“Mr. Smith, you’re aware there are transmissions coming into this planetary system from outside? From other places?”
There was a pause. Then: “Yes. Of course.”
“Those signals are what brought us here. We’d like to talk with you about them.”
“Look, the joke’s over. I’m too busy for this.”
“My name is Priscilla Hutchins. How can we prove to you that we are what we say?”
Phyl’s voice broke in: “Hutch, I’ll have to make up a name for you. He wouldn’t be able to pronounce yours. Especially Priscilla.”
“Do it, Phyl. Whatever works.”
Rudy and Antonio were watching her. Rudy was acquiring a desperate look. Antonio wore a cynical smile. Things always go wrong.
“Priscilla.” Smith was speaking again. “The only way I can think of would be to bring your starship down, park it on my lawn, and let me walk around it and kick the tires.”
Hutch sank back in her chair. “I may have improvised a bit with the language on that one,” said Phyl.
Rudy stared at the overhead. “Maybe we should try someone else.”
“This guy’s a physicist,” said Antonio. “If you can’t get through to him, what chance do you think you’d have with a plumber?”
“I think,” said Jon, “anyone would be skeptical. How would you react to this kind of situation?”
“Mr. Smith,” said Hutch, “are you willing to concede the possibility that we might be what we say we are?”
“Good-bye.” And suddenly, the line was clear.
“He disconnected,” said Phyl.
Hutch nodded. “Yeah, I got that impression.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Matt.
“I guess we have to get his attention.”
“Are we thinking the same thing?”
“Probably.”
“Do we do it in daylight?”
“No. It’ll be more spectacular at night.”
THE CITY SPREAD out below them. It was on the western coast of Mr. Smith’s continent, mountains behind it, a large developed harbor, ships moving in and out, a busy airport several kilometers to the north, where the mountains were lower. There was lots of ground traffic and a couple of dirigibles.
Everything was laid out in squares, a chessboard city, glowing with lights. It gave the appearance of having been designed rather than simply having expanded from something smaller. A cluster of tall buildings rose near the waterfront area, although large structures were scattered throughout. There were parks, a river, and even a couple of small lakes. The air looked clean.
The moon was in the east. It was a bright, clear night, the sky full of stars.
They came in off the sea, both landers barely two hundred meters off the ground, moving slowly, not quite seventy kph, far slower than a standard aircraft could maintain. They passed over a cluster of piers and buildings that were probably warehouses, and over an avenue filled with traffic. At Hutch’s word, they switched on their navigation lights and turned north.
They flew over rooftops and past illuminated buildings. The architecture had a more liquid flow than cities at home. Maybe it was because she was passing overhead at night, but everything seemed rounded, curved, peeling away into the dark. She picked out the broadest, busiest street she could find and led them there. They moved in just above the traffic, drawing the startled attention of pedestrians.
The creatures resembled hobgoblins. They were small, barely half her height, with slick gray skin, enormous eyes set back where a human’s temples would have been, and thick limbs. There was a lack of definition about them, no jawline, no clearly defined throat, no ears. She tried to persuade herself they were not really repulsive, but her instincts responded differently.
She came to a full stop in front of a transit vehicle, a bus, just starting a turn. The bus jammed on its brakes, and the creatures inside lurched toward the front.
Matt pulled in behind her, back about twenty meters, and the landers simply floated in midair, defying gravity.
A truck banged into a car.
Something jangled. How about that? They even had horns.
Everything was coming to a dead stop.
“Okay, Matt,” she said, “let’s move on.”
THEY CRUISED AROUND the city, creating mayhem. “What would your Academy people have said about this?” asked Matt, as they floated over a broad avenue.
“They wouldn’t have approved.”
“It’s in a good cause.”
“I know. It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Who would have denied permission?”
“I would.”
Phyl broke in: “You’ve made the newscasts.”
“What are they saying?”
“‘Unknown objects create havoc in Baltimore.’ ‘Airborne objects float over Baker Street.’ ‘Apparitions cause traffic jam.’”
“You’re making up the proper nouns.”
“I have to.”
“At least you could have picked a West Coast city.”
“I’ll try to get it right next time, Ms. Hutchins.”
“You think that’ll do it?” asked Matt.
“That should be sufficient. Let’s go home.”
MR. SMITH PICKED up on the first ring. “Was that you in Seattle last night?”
Phyl had apparently taken the hint. “Yes. That was us.”
“All right. You made your point. I’ll talk to you.”
“How do we find you?”
“I live on the outskirts of Denver.”
“Describe the place. We have no familiarity with your world other than what we can see.”
“It’s on the same continent as Seattle. Proceed—” Here the translation garbled.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Smith. We don’t understand your directional terms.”
“Proceed toward the sunrise. Two-thirds of the distance across the continent. And a little bit down—”
“Pardon me. Which way is down?”
Pause. “Toward the (something)—”
“Are you referring to the line around the center of the planet? Probably the hottest area?”
“Yes.”
And so it went. It took a while, but they figured it out. Look for a wide river. Follow the river in the direction of the equator. Pass a city in which the tallest building is shaped, at the top, like a needle. Beyond, east of the city, the river forks. Follow the side that angles back in the direction of Seattle. Find a smaller city nearby. On the far side of the city—
Here, Hutch interrupted him: “Is it remote? Do you have neighbors?”
“Yes.”
“Can you suggest a place where we could have some privacy?”
“Not anyplace that might have a runway.”
“We don’t need a runway.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot.”
“Well?”
“I think I can arrange something.”
MATT WANTED TO go down with the mission. “It’s my turn,” he persisted.
This was a big moment, and he intended to be there when it happened. He didn’t say that, but she knew that was the point. And he also probably thought that if trouble developed—after all, who knew what would really be waiting for them?—it would be better for all if he were there. Hutch, after all, wasn’t young, and she was also a woman.
“Okay, Matt. It’s all yours. You’ll be taking both Antonio and Rudy with you. How about Jon?”
“Of course,” Jon said. “I wouldn’t miss this.”
“Be careful,” she told Matt. “Keep the circuits open. And use Mac’s lander.”
“Sure. But what difference does it make?”
“If I have to come after you, I won’t want to spend time chasing down a lander.”