The Solar Sea by David Lee Summers Read Free Book Online Page B

embarrassed about the observation. “You probably think I'm over-interpreting the data."
    Cristof was silent for a time, as though thinking. “You may be onto something."
    Myra snorted a laugh. “Get real, Stir! I called you so I could find an alternative explanation, not have you reinforce my delusions!"
    "No, really. What if whales have figured out a way to talk to humans? Binary encoded messages travel through the atmosphere—and through the water—all the time. There are radio signals to submarines, wireless computer communications, all kinds of signals the whales could, in theory, hear or feel in some way."
    "Okay, let's say I'm not delusional.” Myra sat back and folded her arms. “Why now? Why after all these years? Why speak in code at all? It's not like whales haven't heard English or other languages."
    "True, but maybe it's the language that makes sense to them. Or maybe the message isn't meant for humans."
    Myra laughed, incredulous. “If it's not meant for humans, who is it meant for?"
    "Ask the whales,” said Cristof with a wry grin.
    "Thanks a lot."
    "Seriously, I have a friend who's a philologist at Oxford University. I'll put you in touch with her. Now that you have identified some definite patterns in the whale song, maybe she can help you interpret what you're hearing."
    "If it's binary code, wouldn't I need a computer expert rather than an expert in languages?” Myra inclined her head.
    "Binary's a language.... It's just a mathematical one. In many ways, that makes it easier to sort out.” Cristof shrugged.
    "Stir, this feels like a wild goose chase to me.” Myra leaned forward and peered into the screen.
    "Are there any other geese to chase?"
    Myra sighed and shook her head. “That's the problem. I can't think of any."
    "Well, keep thinking,” said Stir. “Philologists and language experts have looked at whale songs before and come back with nothing. It'll probably happen again. I just think it's worth asking again in light of the new data."
    Myra sat back and closed her eyes for a moment. She had sent the email to her former advisor because she trusted him implicitly. “It's worth a shot, I suppose.” She sighed and opened her eyes. “Send me the info."
    * * * *
    John O'Connell led Jonathan Jefferson from the shuttle through a series of corridors. Jefferson couldn't help but be impressed by the decor. Martin-Intelsoft's facility was very sterile with white corridors connecting large manufacturing chambers and small, utilitarian sleeping quarters. Quinn Corp clearly put more effort into making their facility a comfortable living space. Liquid crystals had been set into the walls creating the effect of living, moving murals.
    In some places, there were scenes of forests back on Earth. In other places, the murals were more imaginative, scenes from classic movies or even fantasy scenes with dragons flying high over dramatic mountain ranges. Once again, an uneasy feeling washed over the one-time astronaut. Even though he had caught just a mere glimpse of the Aristarchus , he was nearly ready to give up his cubicle on Earth to work for the competition.
    O'Connell led Jefferson to a door and sounded the buzzer.
    "Come in,” called a voice from within.
    The two entered the small office together. A thin, lanky man sat behind a desk, typing at a computer. He was much younger than Jefferson expected and he suddenly felt self-conscious about his own gray hair and stomach that stuck further over his belt than he'd like. The lanky young man looked up with a broad smile. “Ah, Colonel Jefferson, pleased to meet you face to face, at last.” He stood slowly, then stepped around the desk. “I'm Alonzo, Pilot Manager of the Aristarchus .” He reached out and shook Jefferson's hand, then indicated a seat.
    "Pilot, if you don't need me anymore, I need to continue checking that solar flux data from last week,” said O'Connell as Jefferson took a seat in a surprisingly comfortable metal chair.
    "Go right