'That's just my point,' retorted Fletcher. 'You're not asking a question of physics, but one of motivation. I submit we're unlikely to fathom any but the most transparent of motives — as you said, peaceful communication or war. The true possibilities are limited only by our imaginations. Suppose they're prospecting? Suppose we're seeing the effect of some probe and our existence here is totally immaterial to them? We could be like an anthill which is accidentally in the way of a geologist's test well as he searches for oil. Your first reaction was to think they must be for us or against us. Maybe they don't give a damn.
'Or maybe it's a test,' Fletcher continued, trying to think of unorthodox possibilities. 'Maybe we're dealing with a bunch of extraterrestrial behavioural psychologists who just want to provoke us in a certain way and study our reactions.' Fletcher looked from man to man, defensive but determined to make his point.
'How can we possibly know what their purpose is? I certainly don't.'
Ellison Gantt then spoke up. 'l. think earl feels backed into a corner. Let me take a different tack. I agree with him that we should at least consider this possibility, and that an attempt to fathom motives may be premature. Suppose we assume for the moment that some influence is being boomed at us from a fixed point in space. Is there any way to determine what that influence is and where it's coming from? Could it be something with which we are basically familiar, like a laser or a particle beam?'
'I can speak to that. In fact, I'd been mulling over that very question,' said Vladimir Zicek, his speech hissing with East European sibilants. 'Any orthodox beam device would have a different signature than what has been described here. That is, one can imagine boring a hole from one side of the earth to the other with an exceedingly powerful beam, but one of the characteristics of the present phenomenon is that for half the cycle it goes from north to south, but on the other half it proceeds in the opposite direction. No external beam can do that. A beam must always propagate away from its source.'
'Hmmm, perhaps not a beam in that sense then,' said Fletcher thoughtfully. 'What if some focusing principle is involved? A diffuse source of energy which is brought to a concentrated focus along a certain path. Maybe the source of energy isn't along the line of the trajectory, but transverse to it.'
Fletcher lifted an imaginary rifle to his shoulder and strafed back and forth a few times. Several of those along his line of sight lunched involuntarily. Fletcher stopped squinting through the sight.
'Maybe a neutrino beam?'
There were several loud voices raised in simultaneous assent and dissent. A general hubbub ensued.
Wayne Plumps sensed that it was necessary to assimilate all that they had heard and called for quiet.
'Perhaps this is a good time to take a break for refreshments, ' he said. 'Let's resume our deliberations in half an hour.'
Against a rising background of chatter, the group stood, filed into the hall and down the stairs to a room where coffee, tea, and some cookies were set out.
Phillips escorted Isaacs and Danielson as they queued up. He made a small ceremony of preparing a cup of coffee for Danielson, ensuring she had the desired ingredients, a couple of cookies, and a napkin. She thanked him and then moved off by herself, motivated partly by a desire to be alone to contemplate the afternoon's developments and partly by a suspicion that Isaacs and Plumps would appreciate a chance to converse privately. She stood by a window looking over the parking lot and the playing field beyond, cradling her cup and saucer and munching on the cookies.
'That's crazy,' she heard Leems's voice rising disdainfully over the chatter. 'All the more reason to look to satellites in orbit, one to fire one direction, and another to fire a return shot in the opposite direction. That would solve Zicek's objection.'
A bit later she made out Runyan in a more conversational tone.
' — good idea, Carl, couldn't hurt to have astronomers look in that direction. Very deep photographs taken with telescopes on Mauna Kea and in Chile. Who knows what we might see. Maybe I'll call some friends, see what they can do.'
Runyan, speaking to earl Fletcher and Ted Noldt, lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level.
'In fact, the first step is to make sure I have the precise coordinates.'
He winked at them and crossed over towards where Danielson was standing, his thongs flapping on the floor.
Fletcher leaned over to whisper to Noldt.
'Doesn't take him long, does it?'
Noldt smiled into his coffee and shook his head.
As Runyan approached her, Danielson finished her last cookie and wiped her fingers awkwardly on the napkin which she held under the saucer. The gesture attracted Runyan's eyes to her waist where she held the cup. Out of habit, his gaze continued down her legs and then back past her breasts to her face which was in profile to him. Taking pleasure from the innocent voyeurism, he stopped at arm's length from her.
'A pretty little problem you've posed for us here.'
Danielson turned, a reflex smile of recognition brightening her face. She took a sip of cooling coffee and glanced out the window before replying.
'I thought we were on to something significant from the beginning, but I have to confess I don't know what to make of some of the ideas we just heard.' She faced him again. 'Beams from outer space. Could that possibly be true?'
'What do you think?'
She laughed lightly, chiding herself.
'I suppose that somewhere in the back of my mind that possibility had been flitting around since I first discovered the fixed orientation in space. I've been refusing to recognize it because it seems so outrageous, but not unthinkable.'
'I suspect most of us feel the same way,' he returned her laugh and laid two fingers on her forearm, a small intimate gesture. 'But we're taking a break here. Tell me about yourself. How did you get into the intelligence game?'
Danielson looked down at his hand. The fingers were those of a craftsman, large and gnarled, ungainly to look at, but capable of deft, intricate movement. She raised her eyes to his face and enjoyed the way his grey-green eyes reflected a sense of humour and well-being.
'Not much to tell -' she began.
While Runyan entertained Danielson with small talk, Isaacs and Plumps discussed the developments of the afternoon and their options for the remainder of the day. Isaacs was not pleased by any of the ideas he had heard. Plumps suggested gently that they should allow the brain— storming to continue until they either ran out of ideas or found one on which there was some consensus. They were interrupted by a woman who announced a phone call for Isaacs. He raised his eyebrows at Plumps and followed the woman out.
He returned several minutes later and headed for Danielson, his face grim. He interrupted Runyan in the middle of a funny story, and addressed Danielson.
'There's an emergency,' he said brusquely. 'We've got to get back to Washington.'
As Danielson looked at Runyan with uncertainty, Isaacs turned to Phillips.
'I'm very sorry, but we must go. Something has come up. I'm grateful for your time today.'
'We're happy to be of service, of course. Your problem has intrigued us, and I'm sure we'll continue to discuss it.' 'I hope you will. I'll be in touch as soon as I can.'
Isaacs hustled Danielson around as they gathered up their things and escorted her to the car.
He drove quickly in great concentration for several minutes until he was sure of his course. Then he glanced at her.