Tripley suggested they try the radio again. They changed the transmission to one-three-five-seven and put it on automatic. It ran for two hours before they gave up and shut it down.
“We need to start talking,” said Emily, “about what we do when they don’t answer.”
“That’s easy,” said Kane.
Everyone looked at him, surprised. Kane customarily avoided making policy suggestions that concerned the mission, as opposed to technical matters or the operation of the ship. “We take a lot of pictures and go home.”
“No,” said Tripley. “It’s out of the question.”
“Even if there were no other considerations,” Yoshi said, “they seem to be adrift and in a decaying orbit. If there’s anybody in there, and we leave them, they’ll die.”
“If we go back with nothing more than pictures,” said Tripley, “the scientific community would excoriate us.”
“I can think of three possible reasons why they aren’t responding,” said Kane. “One, it is automated. Two, they’re all dead. Three, they’re playing possum. Floating out here in a decaying orbit suggests they’re damaged. They can’t run and they probably can’t put up a fight. They’re looking at a vessel of monumental dimensions, probably by far the biggest they’ve ever seen. So they’re hoping we’ll go away. Or—”
“Or—?”
“That help will arrive.”
“You think they’ve been sending out a distress call?”
“Sure. If they can.”
“Do we have any way of intercepting it?”
“We don’t know enough about their equipment. If it’s hypercomm, which it probably would be, we’d have to be astronomically lucky to pick it up.”
Emily suggested they try the radio again.
“Why would it be any more likely to work this time?” asked Tripley.
“They’ve had time to see we mean no harm. They may feel more willing to take a chance now.”
Kane directed the AI to begin sending, counting to four.
“I never considered the possibility,” said Tripley, “that anything like this could happen. We always assumed that, in the event of contact with celestials, they’d be just like us, curious, anxious to communicate, amicable.”
A new tone sounded in the speaker.
A blip.
And then a pair of blips.
And then three.
“Coming from the turtle,” said Kane.
Four.
Analyze.
Tripley banged a big hand down on the console.
They continued counting through to eight.
Joy reigned. They pumped fists, embraced, shook hands. And there were a few tears.
“My God, they’re really there,” said Tripley.
“Are we getting this?” Emily asked Kane. “For the log?”
The captain looked directly at the imager. “Yes,” he said. “They’ll be watching this in classrooms a thousand years from now.”
Tripley broke out four glasses and a bottle of wine.
And they got another blip.
Then a pair.
“They’re counting again,” said Tripley.
Three. Five.
Eight.
They looked at one another, waiting.
“Eight,” said Tripley. “What comes after eight? They’re waiting for an answer.”
Emily shrugged. “Thirteen,” she said.
“How do you figure?”
“Each number is the total of the two preceding.”
“That’s good enough for me,” said Tripley. He switched the transmitter to manual and tapped out the response.
The signals came again: One, two, three, five, seven.
“Primes,” said Emily.
Tripley grinned, enjoying the game immensely. “Eleven,” he said.
Emily stood near the window, looking out at the tiny craft. “I think it’s time for a visual.”
Tripley agreed. “Good. But what do we show them?”
“What are they most curious about?”
“Us,” saidYoshi.
“Yes.” Tripley was beaming. “Let’s have someone say hello. One of the women—”
“Why one of the women?” asked Emily. “I think everybody should get on the circuit. Let them see what we’ve got.”
“Okay. Let’s do it this way, though. Emily, you’ve been looking for these people a long time. You go first.”
Emily looked genuinely moved. “Sure,” she said. “I can live with that. All right.” She was already jotting down notes.
Kane was obviously vastly pleased. “Their language skills might not be a good fit.”
“This is not for them. It’s for those kids a thousand years from now.”
“—Who are also listening to this setup,” Yoshi reminded her.
“It’s all right. They’ll understand.”
Emily sat down and signaled she was ready. Tripley adjusted her image and hit Transmit. “You’re on,” he told her. She looked directly into the imager and smiled her brightest smile. “We know you can’t understand any of this,” she said, “but we want to say hello to you anyhow. Greetings from Greenway. Can we assist you in any way?”
The others followed. Tripley spoke with warmth of his hopes that this chance encounter would produce long-term benefits for both races. Yoshi wished a good fortune to “our interstellar friends,” and expressed her hope that this marked the beginning of a new era for everyone.
Finally it was Kane’s turn. He didn’t look as if he expected to be called on in this endeavor, but when Yoshi identified him as their captain and reported he had something to say, he rose to the occasion. “We’re happy to meet you. If we can be of assistance, please let us know.”
With that, he switched off.
“Well,” said Tripley, “how’d we do?”
“I thought you guys were outstanding,” said Kane.
“Any sign of a response?” asked Emily.
“Not yet.”
Kane sank back into his seat. Tripley asked whether it was likely the turtle-shell would have compatible equipment to receive a visual image. Kane assured him it would.
They waited. The minutes dragged by. And a white lamp blinked on. “Incoming,” said Kane.
It resembled a butterfly.
In her living room, Kim, expecting to see a misty thing, leaned forward surprised. Her pulse began to race.
The butterfly looked at them out of cool, golden eyes. They were not compound, but were rather quite mammalian. It had a thorax and mandibles and multiple sets of limbs, apparently six altogether, but it was difficult to be certain. Spotted red-gold wings moved slowly.
It wore a surprisingly mundane green blouse. The lower half of the body was not visible.
There was no physiognomy capable of supporting, in human terms, an expression. From somewhere, it was impossible to be certain where, a sound was emanating, a singsong rhythm, almost a chant, interrupted by rapid sets of clicks.