8 Gelid

We were all peering at the surface of Gelid either through binoculars or watching the monitor which was now attached to the Celestron. We’d reduced its huge magnification as it made it difficult to watch the surface without feeling dizzy. Nevertheless, it showed a lot of detail of the surface. Sadly, it appeared to be either ice or rocky surfaces, primarily the former. There was certainly no sign of life so far.

The radio signals had long disappeared over the horizon and it was both surprising and disappointing that we heard none from this side of the planet.

‘It could be that they have just one outpost here?’ said Tosh.

‘How long ago do we think Quietus died?’ I asked.

‘Judging by the buildings and the state of the corpses,’ said Mary, ‘I’d have thought it was possibly thousands of years. Almost certainly hundreds. How long would it take a city on Earth to deteriorate if abandoned?’

‘A couple of hundred years maybe,’ said Bill.

‘At least,’ I agreed.

‘Could people live in some sort of underground outpost for hundreds of years?’ asked Anna.

No one answered her.

I broke the extending silence. ‘When does the radio source come over the horizon?’

Tosh looked at his monitor and made some adjustments. ‘Imminent.’

The word was still hanging in the air when we heard a crackling sound, followed by some noises.

‘They’re rhythmic,’ said Anna.

‘Music?’ Bill asked.

‘Good grief,’ said Tosh. ‘I think you’re right. It’s some sort of music.’

‘Amazing!’ said Mary. ‘Real alien music.’

‘Are you still transmitting the numbers?’ I asked.

‘Yes. It’ll be causing interference on the planet,’ he replied.

‘But why are they using radio?’ asked Mary. ‘It must mean they are occupying more than one location on the planet.’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘When I was stationed in Antarctica, we didn’t broadcast music – we played it over a PA system which you could listen to or cut out depending on what you were doing or where you were. There’d be no point in using radio within the research base.’

‘You’re right,’ said Tosh. ‘Then there must be another base or more bases somewhere, receiving the broadcast.’

The strange melodic noise finished and we heard voices again. Two deep voices this time.

‘That other voice we heard could have been female,’ said Tosh.

‘Only if the females had smaller voice boxes. We must be careful not to anthropomorphise them,’ I said.

‘If they are Quietusians then I’d bet the females are smaller,’ said Bill.

‘You’ve no basis for saying that,’ said Tosh. ‘We need to keep an open mind.’

‘Most mammals have smaller females,’ said Bill.

‘That might be so,’ Tosh said, ‘but we still have no justification for assuming the same here. I would accept that it makes it more likely that there are at least two sexes though.’

We listened to the two voices, which suddenly stopped talking as a new rhythmic noise replaced them. It might be music to them, but it was more of a mechanical sound to me, but then I’d never enjoyed classical music either. It did rise and fall in tone, so I supposed we must accept that it was a form of music.

‘Why are we getting no reply to our signals?’ asked Mary.

‘Search me,’ said Tosh. ‘I suppose they might be puzzling over what the interference is. If this were Earth, a local DJ would hardly start alarm bells ringing for an alien invasion. Give them time.’

‘The source is approaching the horizon again,’ I said.

Our search of the surface had shown nothing unnatural. No domed city, not even tracks across the frozen ground and certainly none of the Quietusians moving around on the surface. The Celestron would definitely have shown a person on this magnification.

The radio broadcast ended.

‘You’re still transmitting, Tosh?’ I asked.

‘Of course. Got to give them time.’

‘Can’t understand why we can’t see anything on the surface,’ said Anna.

‘It’s a big planet,’ I said. ‘Keep looking through binoculars.’

‘I’m reducing the Celestron magnification to fifty,’ said Tosh. ‘It’ll give us a bigger field of view. I might be able to pin down the location of the broadcast on the next orbit.’

‘I still can’t believe we’ve been hearing alien music. It’s incredible,’ said Mary.

‘Pretty awesome,’ said Bill.

‘Mary, me and Bill – coffee break,’ I said and flew through to the common area.

By the time the radio source came over the horizon again, we’d all had time for a break and were ready to scour the surface with the Celestron and our binoculars, each with our own latitudes to observe and all watching the fifteen degrees north and south of the equator. It didn’t seem reasonable for there to be a base on this world any further north or south.

There was still no change in the broadcast. More music when first received then voices again. I was watching the monitor on this pass, so seeing the actual equator. Initially, a mountain range slid over the horizon to accompany the radio broadcast. That was followed by a sea of ice, which Tosh told us was more than two thousand metres deep and the surface frozen to a depth of seven metres, give or take.

‘There!’ shouted Bill, reaching over to zero the Celestron in on the area he’d been observing. ‘Definite rectangle!’

The monitor image centred on the object, Tosh kicked in the motor so that it would remain fixed on the same position, and then increased the magnification.

‘Looks artificial,’ he said.

It was maybe half a degree north of the equator, set on a hillside just above the northern shore of the sea, where a spur of land jutted southwards. We could see three walls protruding from the hillside plus a flat roof. Towards the back corner, an antenna protruded. On the southern side, there was a dark rectangle indicating a door with two squares either side. Could they be windows?

‘No mistaking that,’ said Tosh. ‘Definitely a constructed building. I’ll intensify our broadcast so that they can’t fail to notice it.’ I watched him manipulate controls on his console.

‘Keep searching, guys,’ I said. ‘Remember, if they’re broadcasting then there must be other locations receiving.’

‘Trouble is,’ said Bill, ‘it was sheer luck I saw the geometric shape. This is very much like looking for a dove in a snowstorm.’

‘Well, stick with it, everyone,’ I encouraged. ‘One found, keep searching.’

All too soon, the structure reached the horizon and the strange music and alien conversations were lost to us.

‘I take it you’ve checked for other electromagnetic signals, Tosh?’ Anna asked.

‘Course I bloody have,’ he snapped. ‘No TV, if that’s what you’re wondering. Just the equivalent of a pop radio station.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘What do we do if we get a reply? How do we respond? We don’t have the luxury of landing, although we do have one probe remaining. How do we communicate? What’s the plan? Ideas, please.’

‘I’ve not been twiddling my thumbs here,’ said Tosh. ‘If we get a response, I already have the next broadcast ready to go. NASA was prepared for this situation, even if we weren’t.’