“Not yet, sir—too early. She’s set to sleeper mode and will remain so until the last minute.”
“Very wise Sergei, it’s a good plan. Now these Western dogs won’t be able to hide anything from us about Avendano and we’ll get some valuable data on the workings of the FTL drive. Our Human Intel Directorate has assets working some other angles to get our hands on the FTL design. However, we’ll be issuing some further orders to Cyber Warfare in aid of their efforts in future,” said Demenok, giving his protégé a heads-up.
“Pleasure to serve Mother Russia, pleasure to serve you, sir,” concluded Bekov sycophantically.
“Let’s drink to mission success and the future of Russia among the stars,” Demenok said.
Both men drank down the remaining vodka, satisfied that their plan would work. If it did, they would obtain unfettered access to the FTL-drive and its findings on what could turn out to be a second Earth.
Chapter Five
March 13, 2061 Global News Network Documentary on Avendano-185f
“Tonight we bring you the inside story on Avendano—revelations that shook the scientific community and will shock the world! In this exclusive Newshour special report, GNN science correspondent, Vanessa Bailey, interviews former SETI scientist, Yau Min Chang. You won't believe what has been kept secret until now and what he thinks we'll find later this year when the probe Santa Maria arrives. This is News Hour from GNN!” said the announcer excitedly as the opening sequence did its thing.
A head and shoulders shot of the almost unbelievably beautiful Vanessa Bailey filled the screen, with the Arecibo radio telescope in the background. The fact that none of the three periods of transmissions that Yau Min revealed were actually received there didn't seem to matter to the American news network. It looked dramatic and that was all that counted. Vanessa commentated over some computer-animated artist’s concepts of the pristine and Earth-like paradise everyone was hoping for. No sign of any civilization in this sequence—just plants, forests, oceans and some made up Avendanean birds and the like. There was no way to know what they’d find at this point. Next came scenes of war, suffering and overpopulation on Earth, which the programme gave as the primary driver for reaching out across the stars—that and the innate human instinct to explore, and eventually to make money. After the opening background piece, the camera moved to a studio scene of Vanessa and Yau Min. They were sitting in comfy leather chairs opposite each other with a small glass top table between them. Only two glasses of drinking water atop. In his two-piece suit and tie, the now frail former scientist was the smartest he’d been since he was best man at a friend’s wedding thirty years ago.
Vanessa and Yau Min covered how there were three periods of radio transmissions received in 2022, 2028 and 2033. This was already public knowledge. The first part of the real scoop was covered next. There were not three periods of signal from Avendano but hundreds, all confirmed as non-naturally occurring. Furthermore, the signals dwindled since mid-2040 then stopped completely by 2045. This was not previously public knowledge. Even though Yau Min was under strict orders not to talk, under the US Official Secrets Act 2020, he believed strongly it was in the public interest to do so. What made the decision easy for him was that he’d been diagnosed with an incurable brain tumour a few months earlier. He wanted to tell the world in his own words – to make his legacy known – before he passed away. The US authorities had reluctantly allowed the broadcast as he’d already spilled the beans on the internet making blocking of the TV documentary pointless. It would have come out later that year anyway—or so the official face saving line went.
“What could these radio transmissions be?” asked Vanessa with a slightly exaggerated curiosity and a widening of her large, brown eyes.
“Intelligent life. There’s no other explanation that I have heard that makes any sense. To me it shows intelligent life—civilization. And from what we know of evolution here on Earth, why shouldn't it be? Again, no one can give a good reason.”
“You’ve explained why we didn't receive continuous signals over SETI’s time of operation: at first we simply weren’t looking in the right place and then didn't recognise the signals. But what do you think can explain the sparseness of signals even when we were looking in the right place? And why did they dwindle then stop sixteen years ago?” asked Vanessa, afterwards bending forward slightly to take a sip of water from the glass on the table.
“The answer is: we don't really know. But there are some theories I have and the scientists have. First, it could be that whatever civilization is generating these signals was simply smaller in scale than our own. Remember, our broadcast output started from nothing in the 1890s and steadily grew to the unrestrained cacophony it is today. So why did the output from Avendano lessen? Could have been a war, disease some other reason that civilization went into reverse,” Yau Min theorised.
“But why nothing, absolute silence, Yau Min?” Vanessa pushed.
“Well, that’s what I asked myself too and all I can offer is my theory. We mustn’t assume for a second that if there is intelligent life on Avendano, it is similar to humanity in any way, be it biologically or culturally. There are many cultures here on Earth with many different views of the universe. Even our own, Western, culture has its myths, its cultural biases and so on. What if they developed radio communications but had a myth about invaders from the sky? Humans have comparable myths based on nothing rational. All conjecture, I know, but until we go there, we have no way to know for sure. All I am saying is that there could be all manner of reasons. We don't know what we don’t know I’m afraid.”
“There is another reason you believe could explain the reduction in signals, isn't there, Yau Min?” Vanessa asked. She knew the answer already, but had to guide him down the right path for viewer interest.
“Ah yes, my other theory of dwindling signals: they already know about us,” answered Yau Min matter-of-factly.
“How can that be?” Vanessa asked, seemingly naively, ensuring even the least knowledgeable of her audience got the message.
“As I’ve said, after a century and a half of ever increasing broadcast output, if alien life exists and they can transmit signals then they can receive them too. Perhaps they discovered our broadcasts and started turning down the volume on their own in hopes of our continued ignorance of them. If they could decipher our broadcasts I doubt they’d be reassured by what they would have seen. Our violent nature is lamentable, Vanessa,” Yau Min sighed and took out a piece of folded up paper.
Unfolding it he read, “The great physicist, Stephen Hawking, talked about our own history of first encounters and that they rarely begin with ‘Do take a seat. I’ll pop the kettle on. Milk? Sugar?’ He went on to say, ‘Such advanced aliens would perhaps become nomads, looking to conquer and colonise whatever planets they can reach.’ Hawking, like me, believed long before all this came to light that we should be judicious in our broadcasts that leak into outer space. Of course, that would not be easy for us to achieve.”
“So I understand that the extent of the radio signals has been secret for three years. What have the NSA and others been doing with the data since then? Do you know if they’ve got anywhere on working out what the signals say?” asked Vanessa, her lips pouting slightly as she waited for the old man’s reply.
“I can share what I know. But remember, I have been on the outside for much of this time, so it's not much,” said Yau Min slowly, showing signs of his decline. He paused to take a sip of his water. Vanessa smiled and looked intently at him for his answer, clearly used to conversing quickly, uncomfortable with the extended pause of the elderly scientist.
He continued, “I know they had a team working on it out at Fort Meade, Maryland. But deciphering the language in the broadcasts with no key of any kind and no other knowledge of the aliens will be almost impossible. It's not like we have a Rosetta Stone here,” he said, referring to one of the key artefacts that led to the translation of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.
“Anyway, we don’t know if they use sound to speak like we do. For all we know they could communicate by sign language or in any of a multitude of ways. All I really managed to find out was that the NSA and others were having a hell of a time figuring out anything from the data. What was clear to them was that none of the data we had was intended for us.”
“What do you mean when you say it wasn't intended for us?” asked Vanessa
“I mean the signals were just incidental like ours. Radio, TV, voice calls or whatever else get broadcast and make their way into space. In other words there was no ‘designed-for-aliens’ key that would be universally decipherable; that is, with us being the aliens. If an alien intelligence was trying to establish contact then they could deliberately transmit data in a form that would be universally readable. Our common lexicon would include cosmological objects, phenomena based on physical laws and mathematics. For example, pi*r2 would give you the area of a circle anywhere in the universe regardless of language. But as I say, I’m an NSA outsider, so I don’t have access to privileged information or anything like that.”
Vanessa was becoming a little lost in the eccentric scientist’s explanations and tried to bring the conversation back to the mainstream.
“So have we humans at any time deliberately sent such ‘alien-friendly’ signals into space such that they may have picked them up?” asked Vanessa.
“Yes, we have. On many occasions—the latest being in 2050. But there were such universally decipherable ‘we come in peace’ messages sent throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. And we need to remember that Avendano is in our cosmic backyard being only 15 light years away,” explained Yau Min.
“So that means the signal strength they get is loud and clear being so relatively close, right?” asked Vanessa, cocking her head slightly to one side as she asked.
“Yes, that’s right,” confirmed Yau Min.
“So you’ve said that they know we’re here. You’ve told us that we have sent decipherable messages on many occasions. That would enable them to use the same message language once they’d deciphered it. So why wouldn't they try to send a message back?” questioned Vanessa, with a hint of over-the-top incredulity in her voice.
“I don’t know, Vanessa. The only conclusion I can come to is they are ignoring us. But the reasons why cannot be determined with the evidence we have,” said Yau Min.
As the dialogue continued, Yau Min’s answers became shorter and terser as the octogenarian tired.
“What would you say to policy makers in the US, WGA, China, Russia and so on? What should their take-aways from this be?”
This question seemed to enliven the old man. “Well, I think we need to wait and see what the probe finds. In any case, that probe must go in stealthily and I believe it’s a matter of public knowledge that that is the plan. All those powers you mentioned have access to the probe’s findings and I think that we, the public, need to be trusted with this information too. Governments need to be prepared for panic—hoarding, protests and differences of opinion over what we should do next. But if they find what I am predicting – an alien civilisation at least as advanced as early twentieth century humanity – then I think it will make us aligned and forget many of our differences. It is imperative that we get the first contact right and show our peaceful intentions; it could shape human-alien relations for a long time to come. But we also need to bear in mind that we may find a nuclear or chemical wasteland. What we have so-far managed to avoid may have come to fruition on Avendano,” said Yau Min. He gave out a long sigh as if he was out of energy and beat.
“And one last question for our millions of viewers around the world. Yau Min: what advice do you have for them?”
“Just keep an eye on the news from the probe mission and be prepared for what we find,” concluded Yau Min prophetically. He was clearly tired and relieved to have reached the end of the interview.
The insanely attractive Vanessa Bailey wrapped things up, satisfied that she’d just made the scoop of her career. She hoped she would soon become a global celebrity off the back of it.
***
Yau Min watched the recorded show the day after it was filmed. He sat back on his threadbare couch in his low cost apartment in Sunnydale, San Francisco, relieved his message was out. He was fading fast, his tumour clouding his thoughts now and playing havoc with his memory. Not for the first time he now just hoped he would live to see the probe reach Avendano.
Chapter Six
August 25, 2058 Ritz Moscow Hotel, Moscow, Russia
SVR Director of Cyber Warfare, Sergei Bekov, sat opposite his patron and mentor, Roman Demenok, Minister for State Security. They were enjoying a spot of fine dining at the hotel restaurant of the Moscow Ritz Hotel. It was lunchtime and they had business to discuss. As men near the top of the police state’s security apparatus, they deserved this luxury—to drink vintage wine and to be served by the renowned Michelin chef who worked there, thought Bekov. While ordinary Russians struggled to feed their families, Bekov and Demenok expected opulence. The restaurant was decorated in the Russian Empire style, with an elegant glass and steel cupola, antique vases and luxury fabric tablecloths. As secrecy was always a must, they had insisted the private dining room adjoining the restaurant be reserved for them alone. The restaurant manager knew better than to refuse the order veiled thinly as a request. A security sweep had been completed by the two-member security detail that now lingered outside of the dining room entrance.
“So what is the latest you have for me on the terrorist agitator, Omar Khalilov?” enquired Demenok, keen to hear the confirmation that one of the top ten Enemies of the State had been apprehended. Khalilov was one of the Islamic separatist militants calling for recognition and respect for Muslims and, eventually, autonomy for the small erstwhile republic from where he came. The persecution of Muslims was almost inevitable given the smothering ubiquity of the police state and the competing power base that religion represented.
“My Special Ops 3 boys caught him in a raid on his not-so-safe house in the early hours, sir. The full report has already been lodged,” said Bekov. He saw his patron was pleased by this news and went on. “The report will read that he was arrested in a brothel with two whores,” Bekov chuckled. “A little shaping of the truth can only help our cause. We must undermine their ideology, their faith. Khalilov won’t be leaving the gulag until it’s time for his funeral.”
The almost invisible earpiece that Bekov wore reported a call, the ringing only audible to him.
“May I, sir?” he asked, pointing to his communicator watch. Demenok nodded his assent.
“What do you have for me?” asked Bekov crisply as he brought his comwatch halfway to his mouth.
He listened intently and interrupted the SVR analyst speaking to him on the call. “I’m just patching in Minister Demenok now. Repeat what you just told me for his benefit then continue with your report, Delta-five,” he said, referring to the analyst’s designation.
“Minister Demenok, here. Go on, Delta-five.”
“Director, when you visited Kamkin, the GM of the Gorshkov Works, you were being watched, sir,” reported Delta-five. “We just retrieved the CCTV from the corridor camera outside of Kamkin’s office. I’m transmitting to your comwatches now, sir.”
Bekov and Demenok tapped their communicator watches and the screen rapidly expanded to the size of a playing card as the CCTV footage started to play. A young man, with trendy, gelled hair could be seen creeping into shot. He stood and listened outside what was Kamkin’s office door at the end of the corridor, several metres away from the camera. He turned as if to check over his shoulder, revealing his face to the camera. No sound could be heard, which Bekov found strange—all modern CCTV had sound. The young eavesdropper then abruptly turned and ducked into an office door to the right of the camera shot. Twenty seconds later Bekov and his security guard could be seen leaving Kamkin’s office and passing under the ceiling-mounted camera and out of shot.
“Yes, sir. Facial recognition database tells us he’s one Ethan Robert Marsaud. He’s a French citizen contracted to the probe project from Fusion Dynamics in the US,” reported Delta-five.
“Why no sound, Delta-five?” asked Demenok.
“Faulty CCTV camera, sir,” replied Delta-five apologetically as if it was his fault.
“Send a full dossier of Marsaud to my office terminal. I will review it back at base. That’s all, Delta-five,” instructed Bekov, not wanting his analyst to be privy to what they were to discuss next.
“Very good sir,” Delta-five clicked off. The two spy bosses’ comwatch screens contracted back to their normal size as they lowered their wrists.
“So is there any chance he heard something sensitive, Sergei?” enquired Demenok.
“Let me see…” Bekov paused for a few seconds, eyes up and to the left while he tried to access his threatening conversation with Kamkin. Unable to recall the precise timing and order of that dialogue, he covered his back. “It is possible that he overheard something he should not have. He must be silenced. We cannot allow the Yankees to learn of our plans.”
The First Exoplanet Page 6
