Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [178]
The image was being picked up on monitors in both mission control and the pilot’s room, and was also being displayed in the windows.
The creature was supported on a framework, presumably a chair-equivalent. A few gauges were visible on a bulkhead, and the pilot’s room, if that’s what it was, appeared to be normal size. Curious illusion that: anyone receiving the transmission would make some egregiously false assumptions. The butterfly appeared to be of the same general dimensions as a human.
It raised its upper left limb in a gesture that must have been acknowledgment. It maintained that position for one minute, seventeen seconds. Then the screen went blank.
“What happened?” asked Tripley.
Kane shook its head. “Apparently end of transmission,” he said. “I guess they’re not much for small talk.”
“Can we get a picture of the main hatch from outside?” Emily asked Kane. “Our main hatch?”
“Negative. We don’t have anything that can acquire the angle. Why?”
“How about the cargo door?”
“We can do that.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Tripley.
“I think we ought to send them an invitation.” She explained her idea but Tripley, after he’d heard her out, looked uncertain.
“You think it’s wise?”
“What’s to lose? If Markis is right and the ship’s damaged, it might get us all off on exactly the right note.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s try it.”
Kane pointed one of the port imagers at the cargo hatch, opened the air lock and turned its lights on. Emily straightened her blouse and checked her hair. When she was ready, he went to a split screen, putting her on one side and the open door on the other.
“Hello again. Would you like to come on board?”
The image of the miniature ship was back in the windows. It floated serenely against the star-clouds.
Emily waited. And tried again.
And a third time.
“I think I’m insulted,” she said finally.
“What’s the matter with them?” Two hours had passed and Tripley could not begin to conceal his frustration. “You think they saw the open door as a threat?”
“Don’t know. We’re looking at butterflies, for God’s sake. You think they’ve had any experience with spiders?”
“So what do we do now?” asked Emily.
“The open door should be a universal,” Tripley persisted. “All it really implies is that they’re welcome. Why don’t we try it again?”
“Let Yoshi wave at them,” said Emily. “Maybe she’ll have better luck.”
Yoshi took her place in front of the imager, smiled sweetly, looked as unthreatening as she could presumably manage, and made friendly overtures.
There was still no response.
“I just thought of something,” she said. “They probably don’t realize how big we are. As individuals, I mean. They’d expect there are thousands of us here.”
“You’re right,” said Emily.
“Meaning—?”
“A physical meeting might not be a good idea. At least for now.”
“Transmission coming in,” said Kane. “Audio only.” He put it on the speaker.
They were back to blips.
One.
Two. Three.
And fourteen.
“Fourteen?” demanded Tripley.
“It’s not a series,” said Yoshi.
Emily took a long deep breath. “I agree. But what are they trying to tell us?”
The sequence repeated. One. Two. Three.
Fourteen.
And repeated again.
“They’re telling us to go away,” said Emily. “Fourteen doesn’t fit the series. They want to break off.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Tripley.
“Go home,” suggested Kane. “Take the hint and leave. I don’t think you can do anything here except cause damage.”
“We can’t do that, Markis,” said Tripley. “It’s crazy.”
Emily looked tired. “What do you suggest, Kile?”
“Markis, do you still think they’re adrift?”
“Yes. There’s no question about it.”
“Then we can’t just leave.” He was in an agony of indecision. “We don’t know how far they are from home. And we don’t know whether they’ve got help coming.” He looked at Emily. “Would you want to leave them here, have them get sucked into that