The Asteroid

by M R Cates

  “No. We weren't even sure our eyes weren't playing tricks, but we have the images. I'll stream them over.”

  “Thanks.”

  Françoise, looking thrilled, said suddenly, “Sandra, I changed the gain on the rocks' signal. There was a little, what do you call it, a 'hump,' on each one just as the asteroid signal rose.”

  “Only a bump?” Sandra asked. “No gradual drop, like the asteroid?”

  “No, Sandra.”

  As they continued with the data, an astronomer, Philip DeVries, from Amsterdam, entered and immediately began to be briefed by Sandra and Françoise as to what was going on. Philip was assigned the task of monitoring the spectrograph, while Françoise concentrated on data display and running several calculations Sandra suggested. Sandra began examining the streamed images from the Space Telescope. The dull red streaks seemed indeed to be there. Amazing to see them at such a distance, she thought, reminding herself of the power of that orbiting instrument. There were four short series before the objects returned to quiescence. Sandra examined the image parameters. Each was an average of five seconds of exposure. There would consequently be no possible determination of directionality for the streaks. She wondered if the rocks or the asteroid had been the transmitters, or both. She wondered if there may be some slight Doppler shift in the data. Probably not, she figured, because the relative velocities were two slow, and because there was certainly a mixture of wavelengths in those streaks.

  “Françoise,” she said, an idea arising, look back at the time of the heating. This time, plot the 600 nanometer signal. I think that's about the central color of those streaks.”

  Bromfield, listening, said, “Looks about right, Sandra. But they are so dim.”

  The spectrometer, in order to get discernible signals, was averaging for fifteen seconds, so there was no way to tell which objects began heating or transmitting first. Nonetheless, the orange signal, centered on 600 nanometers, did show a slight rise at the same time as the blips showing heating of the rocks. More interesting, the asteroid signal in the orange showed what seemed to be a wavy line, brighter at the beginning, but continuing up and down in rough correspondence to the four identified bursts. The fluctuations were so tiny, however, that Sandra wasn't certain they were actually above the noise level of the data.

  “When is dawn there?” Bromfield asked. “We'll be losing the asteroid in a few minutes. Bad sun orientation, then screened by Earth. Will have it again in about an hour.”

  “How nice you're above the atmosphere,” Sandra said. “We have only about two or two and half hours till sunup.”

  “And we're out of business soon after that,” interjected Lawrence McMillan, an American on the staff of the South African telescope, who'd come in to replace Derrick Vandermeer.

  “The Kecks will be on it soon enough,” Sandra said, as if all problems would thereby be solved. Then she corrected her tone, adding, “Not that any of us know what in hell is happening.”

  “They're talking to each other,” Bromfield suggested, lightly.

  “Probably,” said Sandra, “but what are they talking about?”

  “Us?” McMillan wondered.

  “Maybe we're paranoid,” said Sandra. “They certainly don't seem to notice that we've been beaming radio at them over and over again.”

  DeVries, across the room, ventured, “Don't understand us, perhaps.”

  “Not surprising,” Sandra murmured, eyes on a screen she was examining. “I don't understand us either. Think of the confusion we'd cause for non-residents of our crazy planet.”

  Françoise, sounding very shy, spoke, “Perhaps, you know, the aliens, well, they will soon speak to us.”

  Sandra glanced over at her. The student looked oddly non-scientific in her skirt and blouse. The sheen of pantyhose reflected occasionally as she moved her legs. But then, Sandra realized that she herself – in dark charcoal slacks and gray pinstripe blouse – was not exactly in her preferred jeans and tee shirt. Responding to the student's comment, she said, “Let's take a poll, colleagues. What will they say first? What's your guess, Philip?”

  “How about 'take us to your leader?'“

  Sandra said, “Fair enough. Larry?”

  The was a pause while the American pondered. DeVries had already used the classic answer. “My guess is that they will say ... 'you Earth people are being held for ransom.'“

  Sandra snickered. “What will we have to pay, then?”

  “Maybe have to send all our children to alien school.”

  “Might be a good thing,” Philip suggested.

  “I think,” Françoise said, “they'll tell us where they have come from.”

  “And why would they tell us?” Sandra asked her.

  “Perhaps.” Then Françoise blushed, not sure she should have entered the conversation, “because ... because they are proud of their home, as we are.”

  Sandra was suddenly more serious. “Whatever they say, if they say something, anything, all our years of isolation on this planet are over.”

  The others were silent. Bromfield, in California, finally said, “Don't you already feel that way? Simply because we know somebody else is out there.”

  “Well put, Aaron,” muttered Sandra. She had traded places with Philip DeVries, and was changing parameters on the spectrograph, increasing the integration time and moving the isolated wavelength back up to 900 nanometers.

  “Lost them for awhile,” announced Bromfield. “Sorry. Too much sun.”

  “Hotter!” Françoise squeaked almost at the same time. “All six are going up!”

  “And moving!” Lawrence McMillan called out. “At least I think so. Yes, they're moving.”

  “Outward, right?” Sandra asked, noticing the locked-in parameters on the ten-meter scope shift a little.

  “Right. Pretty fast actually. Several miles farther out so far.”

  “Just our luck!” Aaron Bromfield said, mournfully.

  Sandra's and Françoise's hands were moving purposefully and quickly. The American had learned most of the details of the spectrometer operation and had taken it over, leaving Françoise with the displays and general monitoring of the telescope operation. The temperature signals had increased. Sandra sent Françoise the entire spectrum, averaging five seconds on each object. The tweaks to the telescope aim were so tiny that the instrument could respond almost instantly, so a complete set of data was generated in little more than half minute, then repeated. Françoise extracted the 900 nanometer data, as before, for the six time-line view, but also plotted the six entire spectra on another screen, one above the other, asteroid on top, updating every half minute. For fifteen minutes the data collecting continued and the five rocks continued moving. Suddenly, the ten-meter telescope view was cut off.

  “Clouds!” Françoise announced. “I knew they were coming. Sorry.”

  Sandra murmured, “Okay. You still have it, Larry?”

  “Yes, we do, but we may have a similar problem soon. Morning clouds are sometimes a mess here.”

  Sandra, now returning to look over DeVries shoulder at the data streamed from California, said, “Nothing to do about that.”

  “Stopped again,” announced McMillan. “Looks like they're around four hundred kilometers out from the asteroid.”

  “Maybe they'll wait till the Kecks and Space Telescope come back on line,” DeVries said. He still sounded a little helpless.

  “I'm sure they'll be thinking about us and clouds,” Sandra said aloud. She looked over at Françoise.

  The student, scanning the weather data from the satellite display, shrugged. “I think we are done for the night, Sandra. And maybe for a least one more day. Probably we were very lucky not to be interrupted until now.”

  “Larry,” Sandra said. “Do you also have weather coming in down there?”

  “Clouds are expected during the day, but we hope to get clearing before nightfall.”

  Sandra sighed. “Françoise and I are about dead on our feet. Aaron, wo
uld you take over coordination?”

  “Yes, I will,” came the answer from California.

  “Philip DeVries, here,” Sandra said aloud to the others listening, and reaching over to shake his hand – having not met him during the earlier tour – “has just come in. Phil, can you take over for us, till the ten-meter shuts down for the night anyway? Just in case the clouds break.”

  DeVries smiled, despite himself. He wasn't used to being called 'Phil.’ “Yes, of course.” His Dutch accent was discernible but not strong.

  Shortly thereafter, the two women exited the building together. Outside, still dark, Françoise paused and said, “I must go this way to the car. When should I return?”

  “If you'll give me your number, I'll call you.”

  The student took a pad from her purse and wrote the number, handing it over. “Thank you for letting me work with you, Sandra.”

  “You were great, as always. Now get some sleep.”

  Sandra turned, about to start the other direction toward the guest house. Françoise, abruptly, leaned over, angling upward to kiss the American's cheek. “It is our French way,” she said, “for friends.” Then she looked away, shyly.

  Sandra was touched but not willing to show it, then started away. “Thanks. I believe we are friends. Good night.”

  Chapter 15

  President McBrand was a man who did rather well on six hours sleep, but he was less than enthusiastic about being awakened before his normal rising time of six in the morning. Consequently, when his sleep was interrupted by the White House staff, he could know it was for good reason. Those on the president's staff were known to say that the only justification for such interruption was a grave emergency relating to survival of Western Civilization. Knowing this, President McBrand took the phone call at four-thirty Washington time with more than a little anxiety, despite the unconquered grogginess of sleep.

  “Mr. President,” said Sandra Hughes, “sorry to call so early, but I felt you should personally know our latest information on Asteroid 1744. And we need your concurrence on issues related to alert status.”

  He could detect no concern in her tone. “Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I gather it is important information.”

  “Yes sir, it is. Three days ago, as you already know, five stone fragments were released from the asteroid and began a spiral down toward the Earth. Each of these fragments, we now know, are about a thousand feet in diameter, in a doughnut shape like the asteroid itself, though with a smaller hole relative to their sizes, with probably a hollow core. Each has a mass of 50 to 75 thousand tons. Our concern – again as you know – has been the possibility that one or more of them might be sent to strike the Earth. The emergency planning coordinated through your office and the United Nations Security Council has moved quickly, as I understand, to be in a position to respond with evacuations and other procedures as needed. I took the liberty of sending a written email report to your Chief of Staff, so that she can send it immediately to those agencies after this conversation, assuming you agree to have it sent. She agreed to do so, with your permission.”

  “Then you have better news than you might have had,” he said.

  “Yes sir.” There was a pause and the sound of rustling paper. Then she continued. “Four of the fragments are now in geosynchronous orbit around the Earth, each up at 22,400 miles. The four are positioned like points of a tetragon. It seems likely that they are in a configuration to allow themselves line-of-sight communication with each other and possibly with the surface of the Earth. As you know, we have satellites in similar orbit for television and other signals.”

  “Yes, Dr. Hughes, I am aware of those satellites. Have any been compromised in any way by the fragments you describe?”

  “Yes and no, sir. The closest one of ours is several thousand miles away. So there is no apparent conflict, but the electromagnetic noise from the fragments has, for the moment, taken the satellite out of action. It seems perfectly intact, but non-functional.”

  “That is disturbing, Dr. Hughes.”

  “Please call me Sandra, sir. None of my friends call me Dr. Hughes.”

  The president laughed. “Very well, Sandra. I had forgotten about your request. I apologize.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. I should also point out that two other geosynchronous satellites, one of ours and a European one are functional but barely so, again from powerful electromagnetic effects. We're hoping, however, that all the satellites, including the one out of action at the moment, can be rehabilitated.”

  “How can that be done, Sandra?”

  “Changing microwave frequencies used, upping the power levels, and doing some very sophisticated filtering, sir. My guess is that all will be back to some reasonable level of functionality in about a week, maybe a little more.”

  “Excellent. But I think you are about to tell me about the fifth fragment.”

  “I am, sir. This fifth one has been of most concern. We surmised the destination of the other four as early as yesterday afternoon, European time.”

  “You are in Spain, I understand, Sandra.”

  “Yes, sir. But I will return to the United States tomorrow.”

  “I take it, however, you are less concerned about the fifth fragment than you were.”

  “Less concerned in the sense that it seems unlikely to have any intention of hitting us. The fragment has moved into an orbit just five hundred miles above Earth.”

  “I see.”

  “Needless to say, we have locked many telescopes onto it, including the twin Kecks in Hawaii and the International Space Telescope. We are learning quite a bit, sir, but I won't burden you with details for the moment. Even at five hundred miles, the electromagnetic effect of this fragment is significant. Interestingly, it seems that the asteroid controllers have made this fifth fragment far less interfering than the other four. It seems actually to have some level of shielding configured within its structure. Possibly there is actually a conducting mesh of some sort buried some depth in the stone. The controllers have put this fragment into a fairly odd orbit, tilted about forty degrees off of polar orbit, or fifty degrees up from the equator. We have very few satellites in similar orbits.”

  “Sandra, is this intentional, in your mind?” McBrand now sounded fully alert, even relaxed. His wife, Jennifer, was also awake, listening to his side of the conversation, lying tilted up, head resting on her elbow. Naturally, a recording was being made, for later evaluation by his staff.

  “Seems to me like it is intentional, Mr. President, but of course we have no assurance of such a thing. The asteroid, in fact, came into Earth orbit in a similar orientation. It's possible the aliens have some preference for such an angle. In any case, they've managed to disturb our communications network as little as possible. If it's good luck, we'll take it.”

  “I should say so. Anything else about the fifth fragment?”

  “The orbit seems very stable, very close to circular. For the moment there is no measurable activity. We are, however, continuing with a detailed spectral and visual analysis of the surface. All of us are very excited to have these objects close enough to examine carefully.”

  “Good luck to you and others in this effort, Sandra.”

  “This is a worldwide project, sir. Our consortium of observatories has now grown to eighteen. And of course there are hundreds of universities and other organizations with telescopes and other instruments that are now able to watch and measure.”

  “I had heard that in earlier reports. Let me tell you we are grateful for your leadership of the consortium. I suppose you never would have thought of being in such a situation.”

  “Indeed not. We astronomers are a stubborn lot, sir. No one of us can do much real leading, if the truth be told. But we certainly will work together in this particular situation. That you can depend on.”

  He laughed again. “I understand.” It was president's turn to pause for a moment, in this case to read a quick message coming into the printer by his bed
. It apparently was routine or unimportant, because he waded it up and tossed it away as he continued, “Is there anything else, Sandra?”

  “One last thing, sir. We have continued sending radio transmissions to the asteroid and now to the five fragments. There have still been no responses. But being quite close to Fragment Five we got an interesting result from the big radio telescope in Puerto Rico. The reflected signal – the one we sent – from the fragment was picked up. In the return pattern there was a time distortion. It was as if the signal we sent had been delayed about eighty microseconds.”

  “I don't quite follow you, Sandra.”

  “Okay, Mr. President. The distance to Fragment Five in its present orbit is 500 miles. The signal out and back would be 1000 miles or about 5.38 milliseconds, that is, 5,380 microseconds. The signal pattern – the pattern we sent – returned in about 5,460 microseconds, too long by about 80 microseconds.”

  “Is that significant, Dr. Hughes ... er, Sandra?”

  “Yes. We can't make that large a mistake in measuring a reflected radio signal. Even if it bounced around inside the fragment it couldn't bounce enough times to make that difference. I'm guessing they reflected it in some way that retarded the process. It was almost as if the fragment swallowed the signal and spit it out again after 80 microseconds. Interestingly, the strength of the return signal is about what we expected for the reflection. In other words, it is consistent with the kinds of silicon and oxygen-rich rock we believe comprise the asteroid and the fragments.”

  “Very peculiar, then,” said the president. “Do you have an opinion as to its significance?”

  “Only one. That these asteroid controllers are doing something to the electromagnetic field that might affect the group velocity of light by a surprisingly large amount.”

  “Group velocity?”

  “Velocity in some kind of medium, sir. Normally we think of light as moving through vacuum.”