“Okay.”
She listened to the wind and the insects. Then Antonio was back: “The flatbed’s gone. They’re both gone.”
And she thought, so were the people who’d sent out the interstellars.
SHE RETURNED TO the roadside clearing. It didn’t provide a lot of protection, but as long as no one stopped and put a light into it, the lander was reasonably out of sight. She put the knife in her harness, and the link designed by Phyl, and climbed out. There was grass. It was stiff and spiny, and it crackled underfoot.
Another car passed. When it was gone she tied one end of the cable around her waist, wrapped the other end around a thick tree branch, and gave it to Antonio. In the low gravity, her weight was lower by a quarter. “I’m going to try to walk up the pole,” she said.
He looked at the overhead wires. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
She didn’t feel especially confident either. How long had it been since she’d tried anything remotely like this? Her original idea had been that Antonio would help haul her to the top. But there was a good chance he’d lose his grip on the cable and drop her on her head.
“I just need you to keep me from falling.”
“Okay,” he said. “I think I can manage that.” He pulled the line tight, and she went up a few steps. She was in good physical condition, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t used to anything like this. Her shoulders began to ache, and the pole was round, so she couldn’t get her feet planted. Meantime, Antonio already had his hands full. “Have to find a better way,” she said.
“I’d agree with that. You can’t work from the lander?”
She looked again at the vehicle, and at the overhead lines. “Maybe we can.”
She took the end of the cable from Antonio, removed it from the branch, and carried it to the lander, where she tied it to one of the skids. Then she returned to the base of the pole, secured the other end to her harness, and called Phyl.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the AI.
“You can see where we are?”
“Yes, Hutch. I have a clear picture of the surroundings.”
“When I tell you, I want you to take the lander up just above the trees. Do it slowly. And keep in mind there’s a line tied to one of the skids, and I’m on the other end of the line.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Good. Okay, take her up.”
Phyl switched on the power, and the lander began to rise. Hutch watched the other end of the cable go up with it. Gradually it lost all slack.
“Now, when I tell you, take it away from the pole. Take it fifteen meters toward the east.” That would prevent the cable from coming loose at the top. “Do it slowly, Phyl.”
The lander hovered above her for a moment. Then it began to move away. The cable tightened and dragged her into the air.
Not very graceful.
She suddenly realized Antonio was taking pictures. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Priscilla, you look great.”
It hauled her steadily up. She made an effort to walk on the pole, as she’d seen actors do, and athletes. But it was impossible, and in the end she just allowed herself to be carried along and tried to keep herself from turning upside down.
She heard Matt’s laughter from the McAdams. “Smooth,” he said.
WHEN SHE GOT to the level of the wires, she told Phyl to stop, planted the grip shoes as firmly as she could against the side of the pole, and used the knife to remove enough of the sheath from one of the wires so that she could see metal. Then she took the link Phyl had devised and clipped it to the line. “Okay,” she told Phyl. “It’s done.”
The link was equipped with a transmitter, so Phyl could listen. “Good,” she said. “We were right. It’s a comm line.”
“Okay. What do we do now?”
“Unless you’re comfortable up there, you might come down. Once you’ve done that, we’ll try to talk to our physicist.”
Matt congratulated her, and she said thanks and wondered why she’d insisted on doing this. Two vehicles rolled by, both going in the same direction, but neither slowed down.
Phyl moved the lander in close, lowering Hutch to the ground, then returned it to the clearing. And they were ready for the great experiment.
“Now, you have the physicist’s code, right?”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll be able to talk to you without his hearing me. Right?”
“Yes, that’s the way I have it set up.”
“Okay. Let’s call him. If he answers, tell him we’re visitors from another place, that we’ve encountered one of their starships, and that we’ve come in response. And tell him hello.”
“Hutch,” said Jon, “I doubt they’ll know what Phyl is talking about. The starships are too long ago. You’re talking tens of thousands of years. They’ll have forgotten. There might even have been a different species in charge here then.”
“I don’t think it matters, Jon. As long as we’re able to get him interested.”
“He’ll think we’re crazy.”
“I suppose we could tell him we want to talk over a new quantum development.”
“Okay,” said Phyl, “I’ve punched in his code. The signal on the other end is sounding.”
Hutch and Antonio got back into the lander. She switched on the speaker and they could hear a singsong tone. “Waiting for him to answer.”
“Phyl, block off his comments. All we’ll want to hear are the translations.”
“Okay. You understand I’m not fluent.”
“Of course.”
“I will have to improvise.”
“Just do the best you can, Phyl.”
The singsong tone continued. Hutch sat in the dark, thinking once again how history was about to be made. First contact via landline. Who would have thought?
“Hello?” That was the translation. It was still Phyllis’s voice, but she modulated it, gave it a deeper sound, so they’d have no trouble distinguishing who was talking.
“Mr. Smith?” The creature’s name was, of course, a jaw breaker. So she simply substituted.
“Yes?” said the alien. “Who is this, please?”
“Mr. Smith, I’m calling you from a starship, which is currently in orbit around your world.”
Hutch listened to the distant hum of electronics. They weren’t from the ship.
“Margie,” the creature said, “is that you?”
“Tell him it’s not a joke, Phyl.”
“Mr. Smith,” said Phyl, “it’s not Margie, and not a joke.”
“All right, look: Whoever you are, I’ve got better things to do. Please stop tying up the line and go away.” He disconnected.
“That went well,” said Antonio.
“Hutch,” said Phyl, “should we try again?”
“Yes. But let’s use a different tack.” Hutch gave her instructions, and Phyl called.
“Hello,” said Smith. Hutch wondered what his tone sounded like.
“Mr. Smith, this is the same caller. I understand your skepticism. But please give me a moment and I’ll get out of your way. Please.”
Long pause. Another car went by. “Say your piece and go away.”
“Can you see the moon?”
“What?”
“Can you see the moon? From where you are now?”
“What does it matter?”
“We’ll use it to prove who we are.”
Phyl said, “I think he just used an expletive. Not sure. But the tone—”
“Okay, Phyl. Try to stay with him.”
Mr. Smith was back: “One moment.” Hutch could picture him,—it—striding irritably around his windows, looking out. Then: “Yes, I can see it.”