"Don't go, Pehn!" cried Soma. "You're not well! It's nearly breakfast
time, too. Don't go. What will I tell father?"
But the door had closed, and from the window Soma watched Pehn's copter
rise above the rooftops and glide out of sight.
* * * * *
In the signal dome Pehn found the specialists still at work, pale
and tense from lack of sleep. Some still conferred over pages of
mathematical equations, some watched the tape which monotonously
continued to record the symbols.
Bidagha strode forward to meet him.
"We've finally found key to vocabulary, Pehn, and others are at work
now on main body of message. Signals are undoubtedly coming from one of
planets of sun we call Topaz. It has system of nine planets, and waves
are being sent from third. All my life I've believed that there were
other planet systems like ours, and other intelligences in galaxy, but
now that one of them is signalling us, I can hardly make myself believe
it!"
From the top gallery, high in the dome, Nautunal ran down the spiral
ramp.
"We're getting it now, Bidagha! Planet of Topaz, is signalling this
entire sector of galaxy, hoping to find planets with intelligent life
on them. They wish to communicate, to exchange information, and they
offer to visit any planet which would welcome them."
"Then they can travel through space?"
"Yes. They say they are only twenty-seven light-years away."
Bidagha's shoulders drooped in disappointment. "But if these signals
have been twenty-seven years on way, it would take us another
twenty-seven years to answer them. I shall never live to see their
visit!"
"But you don't understand, Bidagha. I forgot this isn't your field.
These waves are coming through phase space, and they go much faster
than speed of light. They reach us almost instantaneously."
Pehn began to laugh. He felt light-headed, and for some reason amused.
"I suppose you all remember my father's Jarlu lecture, in which he
demonstrated mathematically that life or intelligence on any planet
except Zenob was impossible. He pointed out that unique properties of
carbon compounds of which we are composed could never be duplicated on
another planet. And how remarkable circumstance of our having Ice I,
only form of solid water that can float, had allowed life to evolve on
Zenob, alone. Poor father! This will be hard on him. Of course, you are
not going to send answer?"
Bidagha had seemed to be in meditation, but now he spoke in a
commanding tone. "Of course we must reply!"
Nautunal gasped, and stepped away. "But we haven't right! That would
be heresy!"
"I claim right. Centuries ago, Healers dreamed of this day, and as
Healer I dare to claim right. We will reply to these signals and tell
people of Topaz planet that intelligent men do exist on our own world."
Nautunal's eyes had become dreamy and speculative. "I am not certain
that we _could_ reply, even if we dared," he said. He looked
uncertainly at the other microwave technicians, to see fear looking
from their faces, too.
At last one spoke. "_I_ think we could change over to transmission
through phase space in about half hour--if we had orders." He hastily
turned away, afraid of his own thoughts.
"Responsibility is mine," said Bidagha. "I speak with authority of my
calling. We will send same set of mathematical tables we have received,
and then periodic table of elements as they exist here."
Pehn felt confused, battered with warring emotions, and too tired to
think or speak. But Nautunal moved with abrupt decision.
"If you order it, Bidagha, we will try." He turned to his technicians.
"We'll start work immediately."
Nearly an hour had passed before the wave modulator was reported ready.
In the highest level of the dome, they watched nervously as Nautunal
turned up the power and worried the dials.
"All set?" he said.
There was no reply. In a dead silence he touched the button, and
started an impulse driving towards the star Topaz.
The door behind them opened with a crash and Premier Karn strode in,
his face contorted with an anger he had never shown before in his life.
"Despicable traitors!" he shouted. "Turn off that instrument!"
White-faced, one of the technicians obeyed, and the power indicators
dropped.
"Can it be true, what has come to my ears--what I see now with my own
eyes--that you would dare to reply to message that comes from foreign
planet?"
Bidagha's commanding figure grew even taller.
"Premier, I speak now, not as Bidagha man, but as Bidagha Healer, and
I must give you my Warning: Zenob cannot escape contacts with other
worlds!
"In my opinion, Zenob has reached fateful turning point in its history.
We must face fact that our knowledge of physical science is not
adequate. Our fossil fuels are nearly gone, and we must have atomic
power. But frankly, our physicists don't know enough to design safe
atomic reactors. And at rate science progresses on Zenob, they won't
know enough for centuries. All of this could be remedied by exchange of
information with this other world."
As he faced Bidagha, the Premier trembled with rage, and his usually
placid face was contorted. "Bidagha, you could be unfrocked for that!
Zenob would be better off if Healers would confine their opinions and
activities to healing, and leave politics to those whose business it
is. Government will not base its decisions upon visions of dreamers who
have dwelt too long in Cave."
Pehn closed his eyes as a wave of agony broke over him. The voices
receded; dimly he was aware that he was falling. Pain and shouting
together faded away into darkness.
* * * * *
On Earth, at the listening post on Long Island, Joe Weber sat before
his recorder, intent on the noise from space.
The chief anthropologist studied the star map on the wall as he asked
his question. "Have you got anything at all, Joe?"
The technician shook his head. "Nothing but noise. I've only been
beaming them for four days, and our schedule calls for a week on each
sector. I'll keep on as planned, but I'm positive that the star systems
in the Lyra sector are not inhabited in any sense we would recognize,
or, if there is life there, it hasn't developed enough of a science for
them to know they're being signalled."
The anthropologist sighed. "It may be a hopeless task. It may be
several lifetimes before we locate systems similar to ours. I had hoped
to find some in my day."
"Don't be discouraged, professor. I'll start hitting Cygnus for you,
and maybe we can find something there. Yesterday, for a minute,
I thought I had something in Lyra. In the middle of the random
noise, suddenly I came across what looked like 'dot dot, dot dot,
dot-dot-dot-dot, dot dot dot, dot dot dot--' It was clear as crystal,
and much louder than the noise, but then it lapsed into the usual
nonsense. Pure chance at work, of course, but for a minute there, my
hair stood on end. Well, it's all in the day's work. I'll just keep
sending our stuff--"
"Of course," said the anthropologist, "there might be intelligent
people in the sector you're working right now, but they might be like
the Zuni."
"The Zuni?" asked Weber.
"The Zuni are a large village of American Indians who live in New
Mexico. Right next to what used to be a big Indian reservation for the
Navahos. A typical inward-looking culture. Now the Navahos, although
they still keep their own language and religion, are an outward-looking
culture, interested in the rest of the world. The Zuni are not. For
them the boundaries of the world are the walls of Zuni village. They
wouldn't bother to listen to a message from outer space, much less
reply."
"Can't be very bright," said Joe.
"On the contrary. Some of them have made the highest scores on the
Tromovich intelligence test that have ever been recorded. It's not a
matter of intelligence, but the attitude of the culture."
"Well," said Joe, "let's hope most of the worlds of space have
outward-looking cultures." He turned back to his transmitter.
* * * * *
Pehn found himself lying on a couch. He tried to get up, and felt his
father's hands at his shoulders restraining him.
"Don't move, Pehn," said his mother. "You fainted, and they brought you
home." She lifted his head, and let him sip a cup of the hot _akhlai_.
After a time his father addressed him with unusual kindness.
"We cannot delay any longer, Pehn. Your mother and sister and I are all
agreed. You must undergo Ceremony. What is proper thing to do for you,
I don't know, but Bidagha believes he can help you. This crisis in our
world is making us all ill, and it is no wonder that you, being young,
should suffer more acutely than rest of us."