4

The small jet whisked them north to the border of Nepal, and left them on a windy strip of concrete. The terminal was small but modern—a two-story cube tower combination with a comfortable waiting area that was easily entered through weather-sealed automatic doors.

“I guess we’re the only ones going this way today,” Alek said as they watched the jet take off for its return flight. He turned away from the large picture window and sat down next to Lissa on the cushioned bench.

She smiled. After talking with him during the flight, she had concluded that he wasn’t such a rude person, only nervous and shy, which made him speak without thinking. It only occurred to her vaguely that she made him nervous.

Alek got up again and began to pace the deserted waiting area.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

He stopped and looked at her carefully. “Nervous, I guess. Aren’t you uneasy?”

“A little, I suppose,” she said, turning away from his gaze to the picture window. The Himalayas sat icily on the horizon, superhuman masses asleep under a bright-blue sky. She knew they were very old, unlike the landscaping of Bernal One. They were at least a hundred kilometers away, but it seemed that she could go outside and walk over to them in a few minutes.

“Why is the Institute here?” Alek asked. “Why is any part of it here?” He sat down next to her again. “Don’t you feel that maybe this place isn’t going to be what you thought?”

She turned and looked at him. “Didn’t you read up on the history of the place before you applied?” He was still watching her intently.

“Not much, only about what it does,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug.

“Well,” Lissa began, “the Indian scientist Adri Shastri, who first picked up the alien signals, came from a wealthy family. They owned an ancient monastery and some hillside land above a river, so they made it a center for his research.” She turned and looked out the window again. His gaze was making her uneasy.

“What is it?” he asked with concern.

“It’s so beautiful here, and so big. The Earth seems too big!” She looked back to him. He was watching her thoughtfully, and she wondered how she could have disliked him so much only a few hours ago.

He smiled. “Did you think the Earth was small?”

“I’m not used to planets. Bernal seems just the right size to me. You could get lost on Earth.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He touched her hand, and she felt silly, weak, angry at herself.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, taking her hand away, puzzled by her feelings. Maybe Alek was right. The Institute might not be what she had imagined. Perhaps it was the reality of being among others who would be listening to the alien signals that was making her uneasy; it meant that she wasn’t very special and would have to compete and share her interests. Suddenly she didn’t like her own thoughts. She was going to a wonderful place, she reminded herself, in order to prepare for fascinating work.

“What’s the matter?” Alek asked.

She looked at him, dismissing her doubts. “Just a bit disoriented by the trip, I think.”

“So am I, a little. Let’s hope we like the place when we get there.”

“I’m sure we will,” she said firmly.

He got up. “Here comes the airbus.”

She looked out the window and saw a large copter approaching from the north. It came in fast, hovered, and seemed to set down hard on the concrete.

“It’s an Australian air truck,” Alek said. “Pulse nuke engine, with enough power to maneuver and land in high winds. Just the thing around here, I’d say. My dad builds the engines for them.”

Lissa got up and adjusted her shoulder bag. Alek picked up his suitcase. They went out through the automatic door and hurried across the field. The wind seemed colder, despite the bright afternoon sunlight. Lissa squinted and kept up with Alek’s stride, determined not to show any more uncertainty. It was only the awesome strangeness of Earth that had shaken her up, nothing more.

* * *

In the forested foothills, the copter found a river and followed it upstream. Lissa gazed down at the winding silver-blue ribbon of water, then looked up at the bare peaks standing like aged parents over the green hills. The copter shot over several villages, then left the river and continued north.

“There it is,” Alek said.

She looked ahead through the observation bubble and recognized the monastery. It sat atop a high, stony hill, looking as if the rock itself had been carved into a large, single structure. The tiled roof was angled low, to keep the wind from tearing it off. As the copter came closer, she saw various antennae and satellite reception dishes, and the sight made her feel calmer; they were familiar things.

“Big place,” Alek said, “plenty of dorm space.” She liked the sound of his voice when he spoke softly.

The copter came in over the central courtyard and eased down onto the gray paving stones. The big blades slowed and finally stopped.

“You may get out,” the pilot said over the intercom. “I have to hurry to pick up some supplies.”

The door to the lower passenger cabin slid open. A white-haired man stuck his head inside, looked up, and smiled as Lissa stepped down from the observation deck.

“Oh, my goodness!” he shouted. “There should have been five of you. What have they done with them?”

“We’re the only ones,” Alek said.

“No one else?” the man asked, climbing in. He was an old Indian gentleman, with leathery skin, white hair, and graceful movements. “You’re very certain?” He kept looking around the lower cabin as if the three students might be hiding under the seats.

“We’re very sure, Dr. Shastri,” Alek said, stepping down next to Lissa.

She took a deep breath. Of course. He was younger in the pictures she had seen. And she had almost taken him for a silly administrator.

“I’ve got to go,” the pilot repeated over the com.

Dr. Shastri turned and jumped down to the court yard. Lissa followed. Alek came down carefully next to her, lugging his heavy case.

Lissa shivered. The wind seemed even colder here.

“We’re very warm inside,” Dr. Shastri said, noting her discomfort. “Australian mini-nuke heat-exchanger furnace. Very reliable.”

Lissa smiled at him, thinking how strange it was to have no control over outdoor temperatures. Of course, she realized, there was no outside on Bernal. Everything was inside.

Dr. Shastri led them across the courtyard to a large door. The copter took off behind them, increasing the wind-chill for a moment.

Dr. Shastri opened the big wooden door, and they followed him inside. He might have taken them through a magic portal, Lissa thought, from the past into the future, because suddenly they were in a modern hallway. The ceiling flowed with white light, reflecting in the polished black surface of the floor.

Dr. Shastri turned to Lissa. “You must be Miss Quintana-Green-Wolfe.”

Lissa nodded. “Yes, how do you do?”

He smiled. “You’ll find your room at the end of this passageway. It has your name on it.”

“I’m Alek Calder.”

“Yes, of course, I recall your application. Your door is on the left, about halfway in.”

Lissa was impressed by Dr. Shastri’s personal interest in his students.

“Where is everybody?” Alek asked cheerfully.

Dr. Shastri smiled. “Oh, yes, those who have arrived are down inside the mountain, watching the signal. There seems to have been a change in its pattern.”

“Really?” Lissa said, intrigued.

“It’s probably nothing.” He sighed. “I’ve seen it too often. But my students tend to become very dedicated.” He smiled at her.

Lissa felt a sudden twinge of doubt. Perhaps her father had been right after all, and this whole project was some kind of well-meaning failure. But then she reminded herself that this was only a training place. The Institute’s main work was carried on elsewhere.

“I’m going to have to leave you now,” Dr. Shastri said. “Dinner will be announced.” He smiled at each of them in turn. “Good-bye.” He turned and went back out into the windy courtyard.

Alek looked at Lissa. “What a grand old gentleman!”

“I’m not so sure,” Lissa replied. He was staring at her with interest again, she noticed.

“Well, I’m off for a hot shower,” he said, lugging his case down the hall. He came to his door, pressed his palm to the lock plate, and staggered inside as the door slid open. Lissa started down the hall toward her room.

Alek stuck his head out as she went by. “See you later, beautiful!”

His cheerfulness irritated her, but she smiled as she came to her door.

* * *

The ceiling flowed with white light as she entered the room and looked around. There were a bed, dresser, wall closet, and corner desk. The light-blue walls formed a cube-shaped space. A window looked toward the Himalayas, but when she went up to it she found that she could look down into the valley and see the river and the village nearly two kilometers below. Turning away, she put her shoulder bag down on the tall dresser, lay down on the unmade bed, and stared out at the sky.

There was a physical sharpness to things here, despite the sense of age. The monastery’s insides were modern, but the exterior was old. She listened for sounds from the hallway; other students would be arriving. But she heard nothing; the room was sound proof. After a moment she was listening to her own breathing and pulse beat. . . .

A chirping sound intruded on her feelings of strangeness. After a few moments she realized that it was her phone. She got up and went to the desk. The screen, she noticed as she sat down, was a built-in flat with a slide-away keyboard. She opened the sound channel, but left the picture dark. “Hello?” she asked.

“It’s me,” her father’s voice said after the usual delay from Lunar orbit. “Just wanted to see if you made it safely.”

She turned on the picture and smiled. “I’m fine, Dad. It was an easy trip.” She waited for the delay, watching his youthful face. The screen color made his eyes overly blue, she noticed.

“Good. So what do you think of old Earth?”

“It’s big. Too big.” One, two, three.

He laughed. “You could spend a hundred years and not see it all.”

She didn’t answer.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Just disoriented, I guess.” One, two, three.

“It’ll go away,” he said. “Call you in a few days, okay?”

“Sure, Dad.”

The screen darkened. Her phone shut down automatically. She went back to the bed and lay down.

* * *

“This is Dr. Shastri,” a voice was saying from a great distance. Lissa opened her eyes, realizing that she had fallen asleep. “Dinner will be served in twenty minutes,” he said over the intercom. “I look forward to seeing you all there.”

She got up and went over to the bathroom door. It slid open when she touched it, and she saw a small area containing a sink, toilet, and shower. A warm light went on overhead as she entered.

Five minutes later she came out into the hall.

“Hello, there,” Alek said.

“Where’s the dining area?” she asked sleepily, walking toward him.

“Across the courtyard, I think,” he said, obviously glad to see her. “Took a nap, eh?” he asked, smiling. “The other students arrived while you were out.”

“Let’s go,” she replied, not wanting his attention at the moment.

They came to the end of the hall, opened the heavy door, and stepped outside. The air was chill as evening fell. She looked up and saw stars appearing in the clear, deeply blue sky. She had come from that deep sky, she realized, suddenly not quite believing that she was on Earth. Maybe she was still in her room on Bernal, dreaming.

They crossed the courtyard and came to another large wooden door. Small windows on both sides spilled yellow light onto the stones of the yard.

“This must be the place,” Alek said, opening the door. Lissa shivered as she followed him inside, glad that she had put on warm slacks and a jacket.

They entered a low-ceilinged chamber. The walls were stone, but the ceiling was modern, set with light panels. One long table was laid out for dinner. Five students looked up as Lissa and Alek approached.

“Welcome!” Dr. Shastri called as he came in from a door at the right. “Please sit down.” He pointed to two places at the end of the table as he took his place at the head.

Lissa and Alek sat down nervously. The other students were staring at them. One of the girls was smiling at Alek.

“Let me make the introductions,” Dr. Shastri said, “now that we’re all here. At my right, I’d like to present Maxwell Cater, Cyril Yoseloff, Louis Tyrmand, and Alek Calder.” The first three students were pale and dark-haired. Lissa nodded to them, unable to keep from noticing that Alek was better-looking.

“At my left,” Dr. Shastri continued, “we have Susan Falleta, Emily Bibby, and Lissa Quintana-Green Wolfe.”

Susan Falleta was black-haired and thin. Emily Bibby was a plump redhead. Lissa smiled at them, realizing that she was not quite awake. She wasn’t used to napping during the day, but the trip and the cool mountain air had put her away.

“I’d like to welcome you all to the Institute,” Dr. Shastri said, “and I hope that you will all like it here. Let me say that you were chosen very carefully, which is why your group is so small. But I hope that makes you feel special. You’re here not only to get an education, but to help solve one of the major puzzles of the century.” He smiled in a sickly way. Lissa realized that she was very hungry. “I must admit that our record of solutions has not been a good one, and my own feeling is that you won’t suddenly solve the riddle of the messages either—but you’ll learn what it’s like to go up against something immensely difficult and important. Now, as you know, others are working on this problem elsewhere. They are trained professionals, while you are fresh, young minds, who, it is hoped, will see the problem in new ways once you have prepared yourselves.” He beamed at them, and it seemed to Lissa that he was planning to cook them all for dinner. “Now, doubtless, you are very hungry.” He sat down. A gong sounded. The food was wheeled in on two trucks and served by male waiters. Lissa put her hand over her mouth to hide the sound of her swallowing as she smelled the food.

“I hate curry,” Alek whispered next to her. “Makes me throw up.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for her plate to be filled.

* * *

After dinner, Dr. Shastri took them down into the mountain to see the receiving room. They crowded into the elevator, and Lissa’s stomach jumped as the floor seemed to fall away. There were very few elevators on Bernal One.

“This way,” Dr. Shastri said as the doors slid open and he stepped out. “We’re now a hundred meters down inside the mountain.”

He led them through a short corridor. A door slipped open, and they entered a large chamber filled with computer terminals, small screens, and work stations; a 3-D screen covered the entire wall ahead of them. Two technicians sat watching a green snake play on the giant screen.

Lissa’s eyes opened wide as she realized what she was seeing: this was the signal from the stars, shown visually, accompanied by a low-pitched audio analog. She thrilled to the alien snake’s audiovisual gyrations, and wondered which had come first, the song or the visual dance. Was it just a matter of how humanity’s instruments had been set to receive the message?

“This is it!” Dr. Shastri shouted. “They are speaking to us, and we don’t understand. Think—what might they be saying? Whole galactic encyclopedias of knowledge may be flowing past us as freely as the wind, but we’re too stupid to capture even a small portion.” He was looking at them with great interest, Lissa noticed, enjoying the effect that the screen display and his words were having on the new arrivals. She saw hope in his eyes. Perhaps this was the group that could decipher the alien language, he seemed to be saying, but there was also a touch of sadness in his face.

Lissa glanced at her companions. They seemed a bit put off by Dr. Shastri’s deliberately dramatic style, but there was no denying the real fascination of the alien communication. It was there, something standing outside human history and experience, challenging their ingenuity.

Dr. Shastri pointed to a group of chairs. “Please be comfortable. I might as well give you my orientation talk right now. I imagine that we’re all anxious to start work right away?”

Lissa nodded, but she noticed that her companions made no sign as they all sat down.

“What we do here,” Dr. Shastri began, “is unique. Once every three years we take in a few students with only one purpose in mind—to acquire fresh young viewpoints from a variety of places in Sunspace and set them to the kinds of problems we’re trying to solve.” He paused and looked at them seriously, each in turn. “You are those young minds. Often our chosen students have no background in Artificial Intelligence, languages, math, or codes. But you will complement those of our researchers elsewhere who do. Your job is to play Watson to their Sherlock Holmes, it might be said.”

“I think that’s a bit insulting,” Emily Bibby cut in.

Dr. Shastri smiled. “Not at all. A bit provocative, yes, but we do not mean to be insulting. Holmes needed Watson very much. One of two things will happen to you. You’ll have enough and leave to study a more conventional curriculum at another college, or you’ll develop in wonderful and surprising ways. Some of you may even become Holmeses. Now isn’t that worth a try?”

Lissa felt a thrill at Dr. Shastri’s words. He had described a feeling she had always had—her desire to grow inside. For a moment, as he looked at her, she felt that he could almost see what was waiting inside her to come out.

“One thing,” he continued. “You will not lose, whatever you decide or achieve, because you will be studying enough here to attain the equivalent of any Liberal Arts or Basic Science undergraduate degree in all Sunspace. Our degrees are highly respected, and we have exceptional tutoring.”

Lissa glanced at her companions. Their faces seemed less skeptical of Dr. Shastri’s personal style. He was winning them over with his enthusiasm.

Behind him, on the screen, the green snake was dancing its weird, chaotic pattern. She noticed that the line never broke, however much it twisted, straightened, or bunched up.

“Are there any questions?” Dr. Shastri asked.

Susan Falleta. raised her hand. “What do you think it’s saying? What could it be saying? You must have some idea after all this time.”

Dr. Shastri put his hands together behind his back. “Well, to begin with, it’s saying that they are out there, that they exist, that we’re not alone in the universe.”

“Or existed once,” Cyril Yoseloff said.

“Quite right, young man. It doesn’t necessarily follow that they still exist. This signal may be all that is left of them.”

“Does the signal ever repeat?” Lissa asked.

“No, not ever, not in the time we’ve been receiving it.”

Cyril laughed. “Maybe it’s a very long message.”

“Maybe the signal is chaotic nonsense,” Lissa said, “the point being that they expect a signal back of the same kind, showing that we can understand that much.”

Dr. Shastri smiled and crossed his arms on his chest. “I’m sorry to tell you that you’re at least the hundredth person to suggest that. We get letters every year with that bright idea.”

Lissa felt her face grow warm. “But what if it’s true?” she demanded.

Dr. Shastri gazed at her patiently, and she got the feeling that he wasn’t quite the kindly old gentleman she had thought. “We’ve sent out replies,” he said, “consciously and unconsciously, ever since we discovered broadcasting. But radio is too slow. Even if the nearer stars were inhabited, messages could take a decade and up to go back and forth. The speed of light is not enough. In any case, we don’t think this signal is coming from any of the nearer stars, or from any star that we can detect. It seems to be coming from a blank point beyond Pluto’s Orbit.”

Lissa felt even more embarrassed, wondering how many others of her ideas were old hat. He hadn’t answered her question, but she was too shy to ask it again.

“We tried directing a message at where this one seems to be coming from,” Dr. Shastri added, “but we got no response. We wouldn’t get one if that point were very far away, of course.”

Louis Tyrmand raised his hand. “Lissa’s nonsense message idea,” he said, “assumes that the senders don’t expect us to decipher anything. Maybe we should save ourselves a lot of trouble and try something else.”

Lissa felt a little better. Louis had at least tried to take her idea a step further.

Maxwell Cater laughed. She looked at him, and he stared back at her with his brown eyes. “If the message is nonsense,” he said, “then the work of the Institute has been a waste of time!”

“Not at all,” Dr. Shastri replied. “If we could verify even that much, it would be an achievement. Mr. Tyrmand, getting back to your point, what else would you have us try?”

Louis shrugged and looked shy. “Well, maybe we could go out and try to find the source of the signal, for one thing, if it’s not too far.”

Dr. Shastri nodded, but said nothing.

Lissa glanced at Alek. He seemed amused and not about to say anything. Suddenly, she remembered an idea she had mentioned to her father.

“Yes?” Dr. Shastri asked as she raised her hand.

“Let’s assume that the signal is chaotic, or even partially nonsense—”

“That’s a big assumption.”

“I know, but consider, for the moment—why would it be that way, if it is? And I don’t mean that they simply want us to reply in kind.”

She looked around. No one seemed about to give her an answer.

“You have something to say,” Dr. Shastri said finally, “so please don’t hold us in suspense.”

“Well,” Lissa began, “I think that a chaotic or partially meaningless message would have an important effect in shaping our attitudes toward contact with another civilization. Our failure to decode the messages would give us a chance to live with the idea of contact with aliens, until we took it for granted that it would happen one day, and we would be ready.”

“That’s interesting,” Dr. Shastri said. “Can you elaborate?”

Lissa took a deep breath. “Well, I imagine, if this is true, that the time would come when some part of the signal would suddenly become understandable . . . but we couldn’t really be sure if the nonsense parts had been meant to slow us down, unless we could be sure they were nonsense. . . .” She heard the doubt in her voice as she finished.

Dr. Shastri’s eyebrows went up, but he shook his head, and Lissa was suddenly afraid that he was going to make fun of her.

“Unfortunately,” he said, letting his hands fall to his sides, “some of us have had that hope, that suddenly the signal might change, even though we’ve not given your reason for a nonsensical signal. You’re expressing a kind of faith, I suppose, a blind hope that revelations will come to us. But what do you think we might learn at that point?” He smiled. “I know, my last question is infinitely hard and can’t be answered by anyone right now.”

She felt embarrassed again. Her ideas were amateurish. She struggled to think of something more to say. “They’ve made it hard for us,” she continued, “because they want us to be ready to talk to them when the time comes, so that we won’t be hurt by a sudden contact with an advanced civilization. We’ll have time to get used to the idea, by having this mystery signal around for a while. Look, why didn’t we pick it up in the twentieth century? We were listening. Why did it become so clear recently? It was a silent universe up until less than twenty years ago . . .” Again she felt the doubt creeping into her voice.

“So what are you getting at?” Shastri demanded.

“I don’t know yet,” Lissa replied impatiently, “but I feel there’s something in this.”

“Perhaps. Now I think that’s enough for today. I think this gives you a taste of what we’re up against. For most of your time you’ll follow the reading schedule that you’ll find on your screens. This room will be open to you at all hours, in case you wish to come and study the signal display. The Artificial Intelligence will punch up all past receptions for you, in case you wish to make your own comparisons. And from time to time I will discuss things with you. Students from other Institute centers will visit us occasionally.”

Lissa looked around at the other students as they all got up to leave.

“Sleep well,” Dr. Shastri said. He turned and left by another door.

Alek led the way out to the elevator. They all crowded in.

“So what does anyone think of him?” Max Cater asked loudly as Lissa’s stomach lurched.

“I think he’s very impressive,” Susan Falleta said.

Max laughed. “A bit of a fake, don’t you think?”

Lissa felt that there was some truth in Max’s words, but maybe not all that much. “He digs around in your head nicely,” she said as the doors opened and they came out into the hall that led to the courtyard. She felt suddenly that Shastri had almost pulled out of her what she had been trying to say, but the process had ended too soon. She also suspected that Shastri had been holding things back, as if he didn’t want them to know certain things yet. Excitement filled her mind. More was known than was being revealed. The contact project was about to take a big step forward, and she had arrived just in time. . . .

“After all,” Max continued, “what has he ever done besides discover the signal? Anyone could have picked it up!”

“How did you ever get in here?” Alek asked harshly. “Don’t you know the man’s work in astrophysics?”

Lissa looked at Alek with surprise, and smiled. He obviously knew much more than his casual manner revealed. Max did not reply to him.

They came out into the courtyard. It was dark, and the north wind was blowing hard across the monastery. She looked up at the stars. There weren’t as many as she could see from Bernal, where the view was perfectly clear, but somehow the aura of Earth’s atmosphere gave the stars a strangeness she had not known before. Most of humanity had always seen the stars through atmosphere, twinkling, as if about to catch fire.

“I like it here,” Lissa said as they crossed to the dorm wing.

“So do I,” Emily Bibby added.

“It’s interesting, so far,” Alek added.

Max Cater chuckled to himself. Cyril Yoseloff and Louis Tyrmand said nothing. Lissa noticed that Susan Falleta was staring at Alek. The group reached the door that went inside. Lissa felt a bit of a letdown as they went down the corridor and each of them dropped off at his or her room.

“See you tomorrow,” Alek said. He opened his door and disappeared inside before she could answer.

She came to the end of the hallway, pressed her palm to the ID plate, and went inside as the door opened. As she undressed, she realized tiredly what she would have to do: Her best would have to be even better here. She wouldn’t be able to present just anything that came into her head; too many bright people had hit upon her ideas over the years. She would read and study and listen, and one day the stars would speak to her. . . .