IGMS Issue 5 (19 page)

We sat there in silence for some time. It was a lot to take in. I had never expected to find myself in a situation like this one, but then again who ever does.

"So what now?" I asked.

"Let's go look at them again." As excited as I was about the possible discovery of other intelligent life in the universe, it didn't measure up to the possibility of once again being alone with Audrey in the observatory. That could bring us closer. We could talk, get to know each other better. But there was one problem.

"You seem to forget the reason I'm sitting in this cell in the first place is because I went out there without a permit."

Audrey brushed my concern away. "You've been granted a waiver," she said. "You're famous now, Danny. It's all over the news!"

When I was younger, I often imagined what it might be like to be elected to some high office, and hold my first press conference. In my imagination, it was anything but the cliché repartee between speaker and press. I would dazzle them with my skillful answers, I would impress them with my all-encompassing knowledge, and I would have them rolling in the aisles with my humor and wit.

It should come as no surprise, therefore, that when Audrey and I stepped out into the main city concourse to make our way back to the observation station and the press hounded us with questions, I said I would be glad to answer a few.

It should come as even less of a surprise that most of the questions were far over my head and Audrey had to handle them.

"If this all happened 300 years ago, why is it we didn't discover these aliens sooner?" one reporter asked.

"Because the light from this starship's propulsion system is just reaching us now," Audrey said, "The star from which it appears to be leaving is 300 light years away from us. That star could be its home star and it's possible that the starship is leaving its solar system. But until it turned on its engines, so to speak, there was nothing to detect."

"Do we know where it's going?"

"Based on its current vector and assuming that doesn't change, it appears to be heading toward another star, several light years away from the home star. Keep in mind," she continued, "that because what we are seeing actually happened centuries ago, it is possible that the star ship is well underway by now. It may have reached its final destination. We have no way of knowing."

There was a murmur among the throng and then one of the reporters asked, "What are you calling these aliens?"

Feeling that I could handle this one, I said, "To be honest, I haven't thought of a name yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do."

"Would you like to see the starship for yourself?" Audrey said, before another question could be squeezed in. The press must have liked that idea because they grew even rowdier. "We're heading back to the observatory now. Anyone who'd like to come along is welcome to join us."

So much for the quiet alone time together. Alien starship or not, I wanted to be with Audrey. But she clearly had other interests. And though gravity on the moon is one-sixth that of Earth, I felt crushed.

The station was like a completely different place when we got there. Aside from the ungainly pack of reporters that followed us out, the observatory was buzzing with other people, most of whom I assumed were astronomers like Audrey. They took holographs of me and Audrey together, and they took more when each of us peered into the eyepiece of the great telescope. When it was my turn, the scene looked no different to me, but it suddenly took on new meaning. That wasn't a star I was seeing; it was a ship (or the exhaust thereof) and some life form had been curious enough, and talented enough to build it and head out for the stars. We humans had not come close to doing that yet.

"It hardly looks like they're moving at all," I said.

"Believe me, they are. One tenth the speed of light is about 108 million kilometers per hour. The fastest drone ships that we've sent out can't do much better than 100,000 kilometers per hour."

"Still, to me it just looks like they're drifting."

"Maybe that's what you should call them, " Audrey said.

"Drifters?"

"Why not?"

"Do you think we'll ever get to meet them?" I asked. It was hard to hear with all of the commotion and I desperately wished for some privacy.

Audrey's face darkened a bit. "Probably not. That's the irony of the whole thing. We have what seems to be irrefutable evidence of intelligent alien life, and we will probably never know more about them than we do today."

"Why not?"

"That starship was on its way before we'd even colonized the moon! So it's not like we can go and catch it, even if we had the technology to do so, which we don't."

"And so that's it?"

"It's a lot Danny. It answers a question that we've wondered about for ages. Not only that, but we can see from the ship itself that they've developed a working antimatter propulsion technology capable of boosting them to a measurable percentage of light speed -- which means that it can be done."

"But we'll never know who they are or why they're drifting between the stars?" It was sad in its own way.

"Never say never," Audrey said. In the light she looked as she did the last time we were here, dancing across the catwalk. "In a way, we're lucky that they're so far away. Their existence is much less of a threat now than it would be if people felt that they could come here. And we can still attempt to learn about them. It'll be a tough job, but it's also the discovery of a lifetime, worthy of every effort."

We sat down in front of the telescope and I was steadily nerving myself to the task of talking to Audrey about us, about learning more about one another, about our future. It was hard to tune out all of the activity going on around us.

"There's something I need to tell you, Danny," Audrey said.

Maybe she was about to say the same thing to me?

"I'm leaving the moon," she said. She looked down at the grating of the catwalk lattice. "Professor Cauldwell is forming a commission that will explore the possibility of building a large-scale detection system. The idea is to focus it on the region of the Drifters and see if they send anymore ships. "

"And he wants you? Even with all of these other astronomers?"

"He needs me for PR purposes. Co-discoverer of the Drifters. Good for fund-raising. But the truth is, I want to help. This is what I have been preparing for my whole life."

"So you're leaving?" I said. I could feel my heart beating within my chest and something about it didn't feel right. "For how long?"

"The commission is just the beginning, Danny. The real work comes afterward. A detection system like this will be most efficient if we build it in the outer part of the solar system. This could take twenty years," she said, and the words echoed with the sound of a stone door sealing a tomb. My heart fluttered, and I chewed on my lip, and told myself that I wasn't in love, that I'd never been in love. But nothing I could do seemed to prevent the tears from coming.

I blinked repeatedly and said, "I think I managed to get some of that moon dust in my eye." I rubbed away the tears.

"I know this is happening so fast," Audrey said, "And I won't be leaving right away. But just knowing the amount of work involved, the travel. I can't --"

I gathered my composure as best as possible and said, "I was going to tell you that I was heading back to Earth, too. All this excitement and publicity is a little too much for me." I forced a laugh.

"What will you do?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something. You know, lobby some cause, run for office maybe, discover more alien life forms in the universe. The usual."

Audrey laughed. She stood up, put her arms around me and we were soon hugging and kissing. Another holograph was taken. Champagne was being passed around. My face was wet once again, but this time I realized it was her tears, not mine. "Good luck to you, Mr. President," she said.

"Good luck to you, oh learned astronomer."

When I kissed the learned astronomer, I never expected to fall in love, discover intelligent alien life in the universe, and end up in jail. But it's what you don't expect that makes life interesting. I never did get to see the Intrepid, yet I discovered the Drifters. Go figure.

When I returned to Earth, I was something of a celebrity and that was something I could handle -- for a while. I was interviewed by news agencies the world over. I received messages from scientists, politicians, clergy, sports and movie stars. Several years after I returned to earth, Audrey left on an expedition to the outer solar system to do preliminary testing of a new detection system. I imagine she is still there today, working on the detection system she was so eager to be a part of.

I told my story far and wide, in much the same way that I have told it here. And this is where the story ended, and slowly my life returned to its (relatively) quiet ways and I faded out of public view.

After I returned to Earth, I never saw Audrey again. Not once.

That's not to say that I never look for her. Even today, after the kids have been put to bed and the wife is busy working on her next book, I head out into the big corn field behind my house, listening to Bing Crosby sing "Far Away Places." And when the sun has set, and the Milky Way spills its dusty light across the sky, I turn off the music, tilt my head back, and look up in perfect silence at the stars.