by John Sneeden
“Anyway, apparently the one inside her torso failed to go off. It could have been an accident, although some speculate that it was by design.” He then looked at Keiko with a wry smile. “In any event, the Swiss and the French had no use for her once the investigation was complete, so they allowed us to take her back to Arlington. Brett worked around the clock with some of NASA’s best in order to restore her outer shell and literally bring her back to life.” He patted Keiko’s shoulder. “And here she is.”
“I have been very fortunate,” Keiko said. “Your father was a kind man and was the one who originally gave me life and a purpose. And now I have been brought back to life by another fine man.”
“You know, I never had a sister…” Amanda said.
“And the good thing about a mechanical sister,” Keiko replied, “is that she can be put back together again.”
“Your father’s work is paying dividends, even as we speak,” Zane said. “As of right now, Keiko is an official employee of Delphi. And we’re also going to share pieces of her technology with the DOD. The NASA engineers who examined her feel she is decades ahead of any robot we have in service.”
“Your father was an amazing man,” Carmen said. “You should be proud of the heritage that he left behind.”
“I am. I certainly am.” Amanda kept her arms around Keiko as she looked into the robot’s aqua-blue eyes. “Every time I look at your face, I see my dad.”
Keiko’s eyes blinked. “And what now? What can I do to help you enjoy your vacation?”
Amanda stuck her finger on her lip as if thinking about it. “For now, just having you here is enough. Just keep me company until I get this thing off.” She stuck her booted foot in the air. “Then I’d love for you to show me around the city.”
“Amanda, we’ve made some arrangements in that regard,” Zane said, breaking in. “We obviously can’t allow Keiko to spend too much time in public. There are too many people who would love nothing more than to take her, reprogram her, and then put her to bad use. But, we made some special arrangements.”
Carmen crossed her arms. “My uncle Valente has many connections here. He made a few phone calls, and well, one thing led to another, and he was able to arrange private tours of every major site in Florence.” She gestured toward Keiko. “Which means Keiko will be joining you.”
“Now, how great is that?” Amanda exclaimed.
“And I have another gift for you,” Keiko said. “Mr. Foster has programmed me with a year’s worth of information on this beautiful city. Carmen’s uncle seems to think I know more about Florence than any of the experts.”
Zane raised both of his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner as if he knew a secret. “Yes, it seems our Chief Technology Specialist has taken a sudden interest in archaeology lately,” he announced in a dramatic tone.
“Zane,” Carmen said, shaking her head.
Zane ignored her. “And it seems he now spends a lot of company time worrying over how a certain young lady is going to enjoy her trip. The operative in me says there may be something to that.”
Amanda blushed but didn't stop smiling. She looked at Zane and Carmen, who both gave her mischievous smiles. She then reached down, picked up her orange juice, and held it out in a toast. “First things first!”
EPILOGUE
ALEX MORROW THUMPED his hand on the steering wheel, the music of Fall Out Boy blasting inside his Honda CRV. He knew he’d probably be hard of hearing fifteen or twenty years from now, but he didn’t really care. He was living the dream and wasn’t about to turn back to the boring life his parents had forced upon him in childhood. He was two years out of college and was determined to live life his way.
The software engineer glanced out of his window as he passed through the Mojave hills. There was a large depression on his left, a dry lakebed from years gone by. The scenery was beautiful out in the desert, yet another thing Alex liked about his job.
Realizing he was almost at the office, Alex reached over and lowered the volume of his iPod. A minute later, he rounded the final curve and entered the heart of the Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex, a division of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory. At the end of the road and directly in front of him was a sight that inspired awe among the dozens of tourists that passed through each day: the Mars Antenna. The white seventy-meter dish was the flagship antenna of the Deep Space Network, or DSN, the international network of antennas that provide a variety of functions for space agencies around the globe.
But while tourists were generally awed by the look and monstrous size of the structure, Alex had always been more intrigued by what it could do, directing interplanetary spacecraft and listening for the secrets held by the universe. It was a dream job and one that he hoped he’d never have to leave.
There were a number of buildings clustered around the giant antenna, and Alex pulled into the parking lot of the largest one, a nondescript white structure that screamed old-school bland. After finding an empty space close to the entrance, he wasted no time in getting out of the car and running inside. He didn’t care if someone saw him moving that fast. It was too important. He had recently discovered that Kadyn Grimes, a beautiful grad student from UCLA, always entered the café at eight sharp to get her fix of caffeine, and he had less than a minute to spare.
Pushing his glasses further up his nose and coughing to clear his throat, Alex strode down the main hall and entered the café. He was just in time. Kadyn was at the end of the counter waiting for her usual, a caramel mocha with a double-shot of espresso.
“Oh, hey Alex!” Kadyn said.
Never good with women, Alex always found himself particularly nervous around Kadyn. He was a sucker for straight blond hair, of which she had copious amounts, and her gorgeous smile was the icing on the cake.
“Morning.” He tried to make his voice sound deeper. He couldn’t help but notice that Kadyn was dressed smartly as always, with cream dress pants and a navy cap-sleeve top. Alex gestured toward her drink as he walked to the counter. “I see you have your usual—”
“Morrow, I need you to get back here as soon as possible. Something has come up.”
Alex turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. Standing at the entrance to the café was a man in his early sixties with salt-and-pepper hair, a silver goatee, and wire-rimmed glasses. He was Dr. Stetson Clark, Alex’s supervisor in the Division of Radio Astronomy, or DRA. The DRA was involved in the study of celestial objects using radio waves. Alex’s subgroup, whose mission was not advertised to the public, monitored the universe for sounds and communications. It was the stuff of science fiction, the kind of work that made Alex excited to get out of bed each morning.
“Yes, sir,” replied Alex as Clark disappeared back down the hall. It never failed. Every time he started talking to Kadyn, Clark managed to show up and interrupt the conversation. In fact, it had just happened the Friday before when Alex was talking to Kadyn in the parking lot. Clark had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and immediately steered the subject back to work. It made Alex wonder if the old man had an interest in Kadyn.
Knowing that Clark didn’t like to wait, Alex walked over and asked the well-pierced barista for a regular coffee, cream only. Kadyn, her caramel mocha now in hand, walked over to where Alex was standing. “Whoa, sounds serious.”
Alex was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. She was so close that he could smell her perfume and see the varying shades of blue in her eyes. “Ummm, hard to say.” He laughed nervously. “It may be. Then again, Dr. Clark thinks everything is serious.”
Alex couldn’t think of anything else to say and turned red at the awkward silence.
“Hey,” Kadyn said, “it could turn out to be something juicy, so why don’t we talk about it over lunch today?”
“What?” he asked. “You would… I mean, yeah… that would work.”
“Great.” She smiled. There was another awkward pause. “See you back here around noon then?”
“Sure, that—”
“Morrow!” Clark was standing at the door once again and didn’t appear pleased. “Sorry, but I need you now.”
Kadyn mouthed silently that she would see him later and departed.
Alex paid the barista for his coffee and joined Clark, who was waiting outside in the hallway.
“You know I wouldn’t normally pull you away from such a cute girl,” said Clark, stroking his goatee as they walked. “But I need to get a final report sent to Washington regarding the Geneva event.”
Alex thought it odd that Clark had referred to Kadyn as a “cute girl.” Normally he was all business. Maybe he really did have a thing for her.
“Washington?” Alex asked.
“Yes,” Clark replied. Then he continued in a lower voice, “Apparently, this whole thing has grabbed everyone’s attention. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve been talking to.”
“Like who?”
“Maybe later. I can’t say anything right now.”
“Do we even know what it relates to?”
“Not yet. Let’s look over everything this morning so I can render our final report.”
The two reached a row of elevators. The presence of elevators in a one-story building often surprised visitors, until they learned the bulk of the facility was housed underground, far away from the hot Mojave sun.
After exiting at the bottom, Clark gave Alex some final instructions and disappeared down the hall to the right. Alex continued straight ahead through the cavernous operations center, walking past row after row of signal processing and recording equipment. That was the heart of the Deep Space Network’s listening post, the place where all sounds were processed and recorded.
Alex arrived at his office, set the coffee cup on his desk, and pushed the power button on his computer. While he was waiting, he turned on his iPod, popped in his earbuds, and found the Kings of Leon tracks he had downloaded the night before.
Several minutes later, the computer finished its security protocols, allowing Alex to pull up the previous month’s reports. He entered the date he was looking for and scrolled until he found the specific report Clark had asked him to focus on. It was called the Atmospheric Report, and it contained information on all sounds and signals within the four levels of the earth’s atmosphere, from the troposphere to the thermosphere. Clark had specifically asked Alex to review the sounds that had been generated in and around Geneva, Switzerland, and Prévessin, France, and once he had done that, he was supposed to look for any other anomalies in the audio data. Stetson said he didn’t expect anything beyond what they had already learned from the preliminary reports but still needed to tell Washington that everything had been checked.
Satisfied that he had the right date and was reviewing the right information, Alex turned up the sound on his iPod, settled back in his chair, and began to scroll. Despite the importance of the job at hand, he soon found his thoughts turning back to Kadyn. He was still in shock that she had asked him to meet her for lunch. But then a disturbing question arose: did she want to meet because she was interested in him, or because she was curious about what would make Clark come all the way down to the café? Alex hoped it was the former, but he was smart enough to know that the latter was also possible. Everyone seemed curious about the work they did in DRA, so it wouldn’t be surprising at all if Kadyn simply wanted to gossip.
Which led to another question: should he be telling her anything anyway? Kadyn was a part of the co-operative education program and probably wasn’t technically a NASA employee yet. Not to mention that Washington was involved. On the other hand, Clark hadn’t told him not to say anything, either.
Alex was near the end of the second page when he suddenly stopped and stared at the screen. What on earth is that? Figuring it must be a mistake, he double-clicked on the item. As he examined it again, his eyes widened. He could scarcely believe what he was reading.
He knew he had to get the information to Stetson right away, so he slid his cursor over to the right and selected print. The laser printer on his desk made a few death shrieks before finally depositing a single sheet of paper into the tray.
Alex yanked the earbuds out of his ears and threw them on the desk. He reached for the printed sheet so quickly that he knocked over his coffee. The creamy brown liquid streamed across the desktop, but he paid it no mind. The cleanup would have to wait because the information he had in his hand couldn’t.
After pausing for a brief second to make sure he had printed the right thing, Alex left his office and jogged back through the operations center. He almost ran over two of his co-workers, apologizing profusely each time. Upon reaching the other end of the room, he turned left and began to race down the hallway.
Seconds later, he burst into the office of Dr. Stetson Clark. “Sir, I think you need to take a look at this,” he said, huffing and out of breath. Without waiting for an answer, Alex handed Clark the printout.
“What’s this?” Clark took it from him and looked at it after lifting his glasses a bit.
“It’s from the night of the Geneva event. Look at the characteristics of the wave.”
Clark shook his head. “Yes, we know, Alex. We haven’t been able to identify it yet. I’ve already told Washington—”
“No, look at the location,” Alex said.
“This isn’t Geneva?”
“No, but it happened around the same time.”
“Where?”
Alex walked over and stood beside Clark, pointing at the top of the page.
“Wait a minute,” Clark said, his mouth turning into a concerned frown. “This is the Amazon River basin of Brazil. There must be a—”
“No, there is no mistake,” interrupted Alex, still huffing. “I checked it twice.”
“And it’s coming from the lowest portion of troposphere…” Clark removed his glasses dramatically and looked up at Alex. “That’s ground level.”
“Exactly. It’s the same sound as we picked up in Geneva, and it came just minutes later.” He paused in order for that to sink in. “Sir, that sound we picked up in Geneva…”
“Yes.” Clark looked back down at the paper.
“Sir, that sound we picked up in Geneva was answered.”
“What are you trying to say, Morrow?”
“I’m trying to say that the sound we picked up in Geneva was a signal. And whoever or whatever issued that signal in the troposphere over Geneva received a response from the troposphere of the Amazon River basin. First one and then the other. No different than one bird making a call that is answered by another.”
Clark continued to stare at the report as if he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally, he looked at Alex again. “That will be all for now, Morrow.” He gestured toward the door as a way of saying the meeting was over. “Good work.”
“Do you want me to—”
“That will be all for now.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex said, a look of confusion written on his face. He found it hard to understand why Clark didn’t share his excitement about what had happened. There was no doubt that a signal had been sent and there was also no doubt that someone or something had responded to that signal from somewhere in the Amazon basin. If there ever was an event that the DRA would look into, that was it. But Alex also knew from the look on Clark’s face that it wasn’t the time to push him. For all intents and purposes, the discussion was over.
*
As soon as Alex left the room and shut the door, Clark reached over and picked up the phone. He then used a wrinkled finger to punch out a series of digits that he knew by heart. After two rings, a professional-sounding female voice said, “Central Intelligence. Secure line operator. How may I direct your call?”
Clark leaned back in his chair. “This is Dr. Stetson Clark with NASA, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. I’d like to speak to the Director, please.”
There was a pause on the other end, as if the woman wasn’t used to hearing such a request through that parti
cular line. Finally, she asked, “The Director?”
“Yes, the Director.”
“May I have your security clearance code please?”
Clark gave her nine digits. He heard the woman's keyboard clicking. After a long pause, she finally spoke again in a surprised voice. “Your code has been accepted. Please hold while I connect your call.”
Acknowledgments
It didn’t take me long to understand that I couldn’t write The Signal on my own. While the characters and the story arose from my own imagination, it soon became evident that the totality of producing a full-length novel was going to be a group effort.
In that regard, I was blessed with a wonderful group of friends and family, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. They gave me information when I lacked it, and when I grew weary in the process they were always there to encourage me and to lift me up.
Let me start by thanking my family. My mother Ernestine gave me my love of reading, and if it weren’t for her then I never would’ve even considered a career in writing. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of reading at home with her. She would be in her chair with an Agatha Christie novel, and I would be in mine with a book by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
My siblings—Sara Sneeden, Susan Williford, Lynn Hardison, and Jimmy Sneeden—have also been extremely supportive. Just when I needed encouragement they would always seem to email me or bring up my book in conversation. There were times where they seemed more excited about the book than I was! I would also be remiss if I didn’t thank Susan’s husband Phil Williford, who coached me on the use of firearms.
