“Face-to-face. I’d go visual. If that went okay, I’d try for a physical meeting. Send out the lander.”
Solly nodded. “You think there could be a problem with the visual exchange?”
She thought it over. “Yes.”
“For example?”
“What happens if they’re stomach-churners and they see us reacting? Or if we arouse visceral reactions in them? But at some point you have to try it.”
The AI broke in: “We have video reception,” it said in its mellifluous voice.
Solly’s eyes caught her and a world of emotions passed between them. He switched the feed to the overhead display.
“Enhancing.”
“On-screen,” said Solly.
They were looking at the Hunter seal, the ship and the ringed world. After a moment it dissolved to Emily! She sat in an armchair. Kim felt a pang of regret. How young she looked. And she was radiant with emotion. Her hair was pulled back, she wore a loose-fitting white blouse, and she smiled happily at them. “We know you can’t understand any of this, but (not recoverable) hello anyhow. Greetings from Greenway. Can (not recoverable) you?”
Kim’s heart pumped furiously.
One by one, each of the Hunter’s crew came forward and talked. Tripley gushed. He was, despite the physical resemblance to Benton, quite unlike him. A softer man, more enthusiastic, more alive.
Yoshi was gentle, lovely, with luminous eyes and a ravishing smile. She wished her new friends good fortune, and expressed her hope that this would be the beginning of a new era for both their species.
“I think we’re in business,” said Solly.
Kim shook her head, wondering how the images would be interpreted by the occupants of the other ship. If they could see them at all. What was the likelihood their equipment would be sufficiently compatible to receive visuals?
“That’s fairly straightforward technology,” Solly said. “They’d almost have to have the capability.”
And finally Kane. He spoke from the pilot’s room, and his manner was perfunctory but not gruff. He said he was pleased to meet the occupants of the other ship. That remark sent Kim into another round of celebrating,
“Congratulations,” Solly said.
Kane asked whether the Hunter could assist. He was somehow the only one of the four who managed to keep the pomposity naturally generated by such a moment out of his voice.
Kane gazed out of the picture directly at them for about a minute. And then he was gone. The screen flashed the Hunter seal again, and the picture blinked off.
“End of reception,” said the AI.
Kim was still standing up, far too excited to sit. “I’d do anything to see the answer to that” she said.
“Find the original logs,” said Solly.
She nodded. “We have to do that when we get back. That’s our first priority.”
Solly folded his arms and stared at the screen. “I hope Kane didn’t destroy them.”
“I’m sure he didn’t. This is the most dramatic moment in human history. There’s no way he’d have destroyed the record. None. He’s hidden it somewhere.”
“But where? Why?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
It was taking a long time for the next transmission to come in. “You know,” said Solly, “one of Kane’s questions keeps coming back to me. Why do you think he asked if Hunter could assist? Is it possible the celestial is disabled? In trouble?”
“Could be. Damn Kane anyhow. We shouldn’t be caught up in all this guesswork.”
“I think you should show more appreciation.”
“Why’s that?”
“If he’d done everything by the book, done what he was supposed to do, this whole matter would have been settled twenty-seven years ago. And you would never have gotten near it. Instead, he’s saved you a juicy puzzle and a chance at immortality. Be thankful.”
“Visuals,” said the AI.
Emily reappeared. “Hello again,” she said. “Would you like to come on board?”
“What’s that all about?” asked Solly. “They don’t expect anybody hanging around out here to speak English, do they?”
“It’s not the words,” said Kim. “It’s the tone. The nonverbals. But I wouldn’t think a truly alien culture would be able to read our nonverbal cues.”
The image went to a split screen and Hunter materialized beside Emily. It floated against a river of stars. A dazzling burnt orange planetary ring arced across the sky behind it. The cargo door opened and lights came on, illuminating the interior. Emily’s side of the split screen vanished, and Yoshi blinked into existence in her place, beckoning to the open door so the occupants of the other vessel couldn’t possibly miss the point.
“That’s not bad,” said Kim.
Solly pursed his lips. “I’m not sure I agree.”
“Why?”
“If we were looking across, say, a few hundred meters of empty space at a ship that was not manned by people, that was in fact operated by God knows what, and they opened a door and invited me in—” He held out his hands to heaven. “Not very likely.”
“Solly,” she said, pretending shock, “where’s your spirit of adventure?”
The Hunter repeated its transmission.
And repeated it again.
“The whatevers are thinking it over,” said Kim.
Solly nodded. “Tripley’s pressing his luck. He should leave it alone. Offer once and drop it.”
A slice of starry sky was visible past the hull of the Hunter. “Solly,” she asked, “how would you think they’re producing those pictures?”
He thought for a moment. “Easiest way would be to use the feed from one of the scopes.” He glanced at the starfield glittering in their windows. “Then do an overlay of the Hunter just as they’ve done with Yoshi.”
“Then that’s the way the stars would actually have looked, on that night, from their position?”
“Probably. Sure.”
“Would you guess the forward view?”
“Maybe. That might be the natural way to do it. Why? What difference does it make?”
“Probably none. But it does give us a course heading during the contact.” She filed the information away in her head.
“What time of day would it have been when all this was going on?” asked Solly.
Kim had been keeping track. The first radio signal had been transmitted from Hunter at 11:42 A.M., February 17, 573, Seabright time. It would now be 4:12 P.M. on the Hunter.
“What they should do,” said Solly, “is just go back to the radio and keep talking. Try to establish a next step.”
The FAULS screen was blank again. “Well,” she said, “I don’t think the invitations are working.”
There was nothing more for almost two hours. Then Hunter transmitted the open-door image again, this time with Tripley. But he merely waved to the viewer and made no effort to point at the cargo area.
“I guess they’re at a standstill,” said Solly.
Kim exhaled. “I’m surprised.”
“In what way?”
“That they’d spent so many years trying to accomplish precisely this and been so little prepared for the event.”
“You mean the open-door pictures?”
“I mean the whole thing has a kind of spontaneous feel, doesn’t it? As if they were all taken by surprise. It makes me think they never really expected to succeed.”