From a Distant Star (27 page)

I sighed. “It means ‘love,’ okay? That’s just the way I signed everything I wrote to Lucas. Don’t think of it as a number. It stands for love.” I closed my eyes. It seemed like a week had passed since I’d left my house that morning. If I didn’t get some sleep soon, I was going to lapse into a coma of my own.

Still, his voice, uncertain and soft, came drifting toward me. “But how does ‘less than three’ mean love?”

How to explain this? I thought for a moment and then said, “When you put the symbol for ‘less than’ next to the number ‘three,’ it looks like a heart on its side. And love comes from the heart.” Outside, I could hear crickets chirping. If anyone pulled into the driveway, we’d hear it since the bedroom window faced the front.

“But you know, love doesn’t really come from the heart,” he said, eager to educate me. “The heart is a pump for your blood, which carries—”

“Go to sleep!”

“Okay, good-night, Emma.”

“Good-night, Scout.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Scout couldn’t sleep. He had an underlying awareness that the solution to the problem of the locked basement door was within his reach, but he couldn’t quite figure out what that would be. When he finally remembered, he sat up suddenly.

“Emma?” he whispered, leaning over her. But she was sound asleep, one hand curled over her eyes like she was trying to block out the world. She looked so peaceful that he hated to disturb her.

Emma had been through a lot today, and all of it was because of him. His fault. He could feel her stress and worry, and knew it was a heavy load. He decided to let her sleep. He could take care of this problem himself.

When one of the universal keys he’d retrieved from the back of the van actually worked, and he saw the equipment set up in the secret room, he felt a shiver of anticipation, something he’d never felt on his own planet where so much was placid and predictable. The setup was primitive, but logical, and once he got it up and running, he knew how it all worked. The communications device was already sending out signals, a repeating pattern that he overrode with one of his own—a simple numeric language that everyone on his planet learned during their early educational years. Archaic, really, a throwback to earlier times. Communication for infants. He’d balked at having to learn it at the time, never imagining how
useful it would prove to be when he was fully grown and stranded in another galaxy.

He tapped in his message over and over again, and paused between, waiting for a response. When one finally arrived, a smile stretched across his face. And when he discovered exactly who was on the other end, his fist involuntarily pumped upward in a burst of glee. The reaction felt perfect, but was so unlike him. Yes, this planet had definitely affected him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The overhead light flicked on, making the bedroom as bright as day. I blinked and sat up in shock, finding myself staring down the barrel of a gun. My gun, the one Mrs. Kokesh gave me. A woman standing over me had it pointed right at my face.

“What are you doing in my house?” she said through gritted teeth.

I went from sound asleep into adrenaline overdrive in two-and-a-half seconds. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” I raised my hands. “I can explain.”

“You can explain to the police,” she said.

“No, no,” I said, protesting. “Don’t call them.” My mind reeled. “Or did you call them already?”

She hesitated and I saw from the look on her face that she
hadn’t
called them. Yet. My hands still up, I said, “You’re Christy Carversen, right?” My eyes were working well enough now that I could see that the gun’s safety catch was still on. “I’m Emma Garson. We came here—” I glanced behind me and that’s when I realized Scout was gone. “I’m here with a friend. We know about the radio signals you’re sending out to space and we need your help. We were just waiting for you to get home.”

Her face softened; I’d caught her off guard and she was unsure what to do next. The hand holding the gun was shaking and there
was a healthy measure of fear in her eyes. “What makes you think I’m sending radio signals to space?”

“Well, you are, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, she lobbed a question back at me. “How did you get into my house?” Her avoidance of my question about the radio signals confirmed it for me: the big monstrosity in the backyard was for sending messages to other planets.

“Lacey let us in.” I dropped my hands. “Could you put the gun down so we can talk? I promise I’m harmless.”

“Lacey let you in,” she repeated in disbelief, shaking her head. “Great. Just great.”

I was willing to bet Lacey’s cat-sitting days were over. “Lacey said you wouldn’t be back for another day.”

“I came back early to get . . . never mind, I just came back.” Christy lowered the gun but didn’t put it down. Still, I saw it as progress. “How many other people are with you?” Without the gun pointing at me, there was nothing scary about her. Just a skinny woman in her forties with severe features, a ratty T-shirt, and pants that were too short.

“Just one. My boyfriend,” I said. “Well, he was my boyfriend. Now he’s someone else.” I stopped myself before I could go nervously rambling off topic. I took a deep breath. “Listen, I know how this looks, but could you just let us explain before you do anything?”

Her eyes darted to one side, like she was considering what to do, so I jumped in full speed before she could decide something I wasn’t going to like. “My friend desperately needs to send a radio signal to another planet and we need your help.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Who sent you here?”

“We came on our own.” I got up off the bed and faced her, trying not to seem too menacing, which wasn’t hard because she was at least six inches taller than me. “Once you talk to Scout, you’ll understand why we need your help. It’s a matter of life and death.”
I gestured to the door. “He probably just got up to go to the bathroom or something. He wouldn’t have left.” I pushed past her and went for the door.

“He’s not in the bathroom,” Christy said, her voice trailing behind me. “Don’t try anything. I still have the gun.”

Yeah, yeah.
I knew all about the gun. The one with the safety still on. “Scout? Scout!” Where could he have gone? I felt a clutch of fear, wondering if one of the agents could have captured him. No, I’d been sleeping right next to him. I would have woken up if anyone had tried to take him.

“Your friend’s not here,” Christy said. “I’ve already searched the house and you’re the only one I found.”

Could he have gone outside to look at the satellite dish? In the dark?
Now I was starting to worry.
Where could he be?
“Scout?”

“Your boyfriend’s name is Scout?”

“Yes.” I kept going. When I walked past the basement door, I noticed a sliver of light underneath. We’d turned off the lights earlier, I was sure of it. “He must be downstairs,” I said, flinging open the door and bounding down the wooden stairs.

Behind me, I heard Christy say, “You better not be trying something.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said over my shoulder. “Not when you have a gun.”

Downstairs, I was relieved to see the bookcase swung away from the wall. The metal door was now unlocked, and slightly open. I couldn’t see into the room, but I could tell that the light was on. I stopped short in the doorway, stunned to see Scout sitting in a desk chair with his back to the door, headphones on his head. His head was bobbing as if he was listening to music and he was tapping away at a keyboard like he was writing a novel. The cat, Boo, was nestled in his lap. In front of him was the kind of console and semicircle of monitors I knew from the movie famous for the classic line, “Houston, we have a problem.” One of the screens showed
a graph, the line rising and falling like a lie detector; the second displayed an audio line, the kind you’d see in a recording studio; and the third was filled with columns of numbers scrolling at a dizzying speed. On the dashboard were dozens of levers and dials. I had trouble reconciling the one side of the basement, the laundry side, with this hidden room. Who would have guessed that Christy Carversen had her own secret space station under her house?

I went to get Scout’s attention, but before I even got close, I was yanked back by Christy Carversen. “Not so fast,” she said, her voice harsh. She came up behind Scout and ripped the headphones off his head, then stuck the barrel of the gun next to his ear. “Get up. We’re going upstairs
now
.”

Scout turned around and, when he saw me, a smile spread across his face. “Emma,” he said, “I have found a way to email Regina.” His voice rang with happiness.

“Get up
now,”
Christy said, waving the gun.

“Scout, this is Ms. Carversen,” I said. She had a wild-eyed look that worried me. “We need to go upstairs now to talk to her.”

“Hi, Ms. Carversen,” he said, extending his hand.

“It’s
Doctor
Carversen,” she said. “How did you get in this room?” Her voice had such a sharp edge that she scared the cat, who leapt off Scout’s lap and ran past us and up the stairs.

“With a universal key,” Scout said. “There are many possible combinations and one of them worked with this lock.”

His explanation made me want to slap my forehead. Of course! The box in the back of the van labeled “Universal Kit.” The one that held the weird-looking keys. How did that slip my mind? So stupid of me. I could only guess that he couldn’t sleep, remembered the contents of the box and tried the keys, and then, once he got the door open, went straight to work. I wished Scout had come and gotten me. He had either wanted to let me sleep or thought I would slow him down.

Even though she’d asked, Christy didn’t seem all that interested in the answer. She said, “I want both of you to walk in front of me. Slowly. When we get upstairs, sit down at the kitchen table. You’re going to be answering some questions.”

After all of us had trooped upstairs and were seated at the kitchen table, Christy relaxed a bit and actually set the gun down on the table in front of her. “I’ll give you five minutes,” she said, “and I’d better like what I hear.”

“So you’re not going to call the police?” I asked.

“No. Yes. Maybe.”

Scout leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. “She does not want to call the police because she’s afraid they might find out about the satellite dish and the radio signals. And then the people at Erickson Ryder will know about it too. She is only talking to us because she’s worried about what we know.”

One glance at Christy’s face and I knew he’d picked up on her thoughts. She stuttered, “Erickson Ryder? So you’re with them. Did they send you here?”

“No, no, no. Not at all,” I protested. “The opposite really. We’ve been trying to get away from them. Believe me, we’re here on our own.”

A slight smile crossed her face. “Okay, then. You said you needed my help. That it was a matter of life and death. So talk. And make it fast.”

I took a deep breath, thinking about where to begin. A quick look at Scout showed that he wasn’t going to be any help. His lips were pressed firmly together and his gaze was at Dr. Carversen’s forehead. I said, “We need your help sending a radio signal to the planet Erickson Ryder was able to reach. My friend here—” A jolt of pain hit my calf as Scout kicked me under the table. I bit my lip and sucked in to keep from crying out and he took over in that split second.

“We are students of astrophysics,” he said with conviction. “And we are taking part in SETI at home.”

What?
I gave him a questioning look, but he was concentrating on her and didn’t see it.

“SETI at home?” she asked, sounding puzzled.

“It stands for Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence,” he said. “We have been assisting the US government in receiving radio frequencies from space and determining if there is an intelligent pattern.”

My mouth dropped open.
Why was he saying this?

“I know what it stands for.” Christy sounded impatient. “But what does that have to do with you breaking into my house?”

He went on. “I’ve picked up data that shows you’ve made contact and that the alien spacecraft will be landing nearby sometime tonight. It will happen in a clearing that you gave them coordinates for.” His eyes flicked from me to the gun on the table in front of Christy. A message. “We are here because we want to witness this. You will need to take us to the landing area.”

“You’re talking crazy,” Christy said, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t know where you got this so-called information. Alien spacecraft?” She leaned back and laughed theatrically. “That’s rich.”

“Our sources are reliable,” Scout said. “The information is good.”

Christy shook her head. “We’ve all had a good laugh, but I’m done placating you. You kids need to get your van out of my garage and toodle on home. You’re lucky I don’t call the authorities on you.”

Scout gave me a subtle nod of his head, and I grabbed the gun, aiming it right at Christy.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, holding up her hands and pushing her chair back. “What the hell is this?”

“Don’t move,” I said, not sure how to answer the question. My eyes darted to Scout, who calmly stood up.

“We need to leave right away,” he said. “How far is it to the landing area?”

“Is that a real gun?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Of course it’s real,” I said. “And when you release the safety catch, it even shoots.” I made a show of doing just that. I turned to Scout. “What’s the plan?”

“Christy Carversen walked here tonight from the landing site, so it cannot be far. She forgot something and came back to get it.” His forehead furrowed as he spoke; he was listening to her thoughts. “A camera. She and her brother want to blow up this ship like they did the other one and she wants to record it. Her brother is Woodcarver on the message forum.”

I said, “No kidding?”

Scout said, “No, I am not kidding.” His tone was so serious I almost laughed. He continued. “She was fired from Erickson Ryder for stealing company secrets about the radio signals. Erickson Ryder wanted to be the ones to make the first contact because it
would make them famous for history. But she and her brother shot the ship down.”