The Sparrow - Mary Doria Russell [45]
But he couldn’t get the sound of them together out of his mind. It was like watching ... Sleep was out of the question. He tried a few pages of the book he was reading but ended up tossing it across the room, unable to concentrate. He rooted around in the cupboards and wished he’d taken Anne up on her offer when she asked him if he wanted to take some leftovers home with him. Finally, he decided to make good on the excuse he’d used to leave early and connected with the dish system. He opened the SETI log, picking up where he’d left off with Sofia on Friday afternoon, deciding to bull his way through the hideously embarrassing prospect of seeing her again by going straight at the topic he’d cover with her on Monday.
AT 3:57 A.M. on Sunday, August 3,2019, James Connor Quinn pulled off his headset and sat back in his chair, sweating and sucking air, sure now, but hardly able to believe what he alone in all his world knew.
"Jesus Christ," Jimmy breathed, meeting the future by turning to the ancient past. "Holy Mother of God."
He rubbed his eyes and combed his fingers through his tangled, scribbly hair and sat, staring blankly, for a few moments longer. Then he called Anne.
11
ARECIBO, PUERTO RICO:
AUGUST 3,2019
"YOU’RE JOKING," ANNE whispered. "Sweet pea, if you have called me at four o’clock in the goddamned morning and this isn’t for real—"
"I’m serious."
"Have you told anyone else yet?"
"No. You’re the first. My mother will kill me, but you’re who I wanted to tell." Anne, standing naked in the dark, smiled and sent a mental apology to Mrs. Quinn. She heard Jimmy’s urgent voice again. "Wake George up and get him on the VR net. I’m going to call Emilio and Sofia, too."
Anne didn’t say anything, but Jimmy understood her silence. "It was the song that did it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and when I looked at the signal, it just reminded me of music. I figured if it was music, I’d recognize it and then I could figure out where it was coming from. So I washed it through a digital sound program. Anne, it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before."
"Jimmy, are you certain it’s not just some kind of music you’re not familiar with—South Ossetian or Norwegian or something? I mean, it’s a big world."
"Anne, I just spent three hours verifying and checking and trying to disprove and it is really, truly, absolutely not local. It’s not a bounce, it’s not a pirate station, it’s not drug ships, it’s not military. It is ET and I got a confirm from Goldstone’s files, but nobody there has looked at it yet. It’s music, Anne, and it’s ET and you know what else?"
"Jesus, Jimmy, don’t tease! What?"
"They’re neighbors. We’re picking up an amazingly loud party near Alpha Centauri. They’re only about four light years from here. That’s practically next door."
"Holy shit. Wow. Jimmy, shouldn’t you tell somebody official?"
"Not yet. Right this minute, it’s mine. I want my friends to know first. So for crying out loud, wake George the hell up and get on the net."
"No, listen. If this is real, then virtual reality isn’t good enough. I want real reality. Tell Emilio to come here to the house. We’ll swing by to pick up Sofia and then go on up to the dish. We’ll be on the road in, say, twenty-five minutes. We should be there by—" She found she couldn’t add. Her mind just went blank. God. Music. Four light years away.
"About six o’clock," Jimmy supplied. "Okay, I’ll be there. And Anne?"
"Yeah, I know, bring food. We’ll hit Senor Donut’s on the way."
"No. Well, that, too. But—thanks. That’s what I wanted to say. For last night."
"Hey, if news like this is the thanks I get for giving you a hug, you are entirely welcome, darling boy. We’ll see you in a couple of hours. And Jimmy? Congratulations. This is fantastic."
IT WAS A clear chilly morning, the light still pale, when the Edwardses and their passengers pulled in. Jimmy’s little Ford was the only car in the dish parking lot besides the guard’s. "Private tour, Mr. Edwards?" he asked as they signed