A Simple Truth (8 page)

"Good food, good wine, pleasant surroundings, and the company of a lovely wife.  What more can a man ask
?"
pondered Lincoln softly.

"Go on, the wine is going to your head
,"
his wife teased, but she too enjoyed the same feel
ing of contentment and well
being, and lived each moment to the full.

"How long do we have
?"
she asked.  There was no need to be more specific.  The question had been uppermost in her mind since she had learned that her husband was to return to earth.

Lincoln looked at his wife and felt very selfish. 
He knew that she lived her life
ever hoping and waiting, but always trusting in his judgement.  He knew that she longed for them to be together, but would accept whatever he decided.  He had neglected his family.  He only saw the boys for short periods and had irretrievably missed much of their growing up and development.  He knew now that his time had been squandered.  He had considered his project important and so it was.  But how is importance measured?  How can the demands of science be weighed against the needs of a family?  In his heart he knew that all the logic in the world had not made him stay at
Mendeleev
.  What had really counted was his overwhelming preoccupation with space research.  And for that he had denied his own desire to complete his family, and, more importantly, denied the need of his family for his constant support and presence.

"The rest of our lives
,"
he replied simply.  Emma assumed her question had been misunderstood so she quickly rephrased it.  "I mean, how long can you stay on earth?"

"For the rest of our lives
,"
he repeated quietly but firmly.

His wife didn't say more, she just looked at him questioningly.  She wanted him to stay, but more than that she had to be sure that he wanted to stay for his own sake.  She did not want this decision made for her or for the children's sakes.  It had to be for himself or it would certainly come between them.

"This contact has taught me a lot
,"
he explained.  "I've been conducting research for years but what I've really longed for was to find intelligent life out there.  I thought that nothing else could really matter in comparison with that search.  Now we all know it is there, and there's no doubt it's an awe inspiring and wonderful thing.  But do you know, even when I was still full of the initial contact, after George Dent's call when I knew I was to return to earth, the prospect that completely dominated my thoughts was being with you and the children again.  When I think about it, it was at that point that things seemed to take on a clearer perspective.  Now, when you ask that question I know there can only be one answer
.  I can never return on a full-
time basis.  I know now that I need us all to be together.  The children are growing up and will soon have lives away from us.  Life is very short and we shouldn't waste any more of it apart."

Emma did not speak;
she just held his
hands tightly across the table
.  When he looked at her he could see tears running down her cheeks.  She didn't need to speak, her face said it all.

6
   
I
ntoxication

The next few days were hectic in the extreme.  The press reaction had been far swifter than any of the major governments' and in only two days the 'Procyon Group' as they had become known
was
world famous.  Interviews with the major broadcasting networks had brought Lincoln more attention than he had ever dreamed of or wanted.  Everywhere he or the group went the public reaction was favourable.  In over a week there had not been a single hostile voice and Lincoln wondered if things were running a little too smoothly.

Crowds waved and cheered them as if they were the latest idols, as indeed they were.  Lincoln felt overwhelmed by such limelight but Dent thrived on it.  Between serious discussions the various members appeared on the popular chat shows, were invited to open new buildings and roads, and generally took part in all the activities enjoyed or perhaps more accurately suffered by celebrities with more traditional backgrounds.

The group's policies were accepted with enthusiasm.  Dent's feeling that the world would welcome an authority to advise on technical and political aspects of the contact was borne out with a vengeance.

The music continued and was relayed everywhere.  It was received with such universal appreciation that it was difficult to get away from it, not that anyone wanted to.

Emma began to worry about the children.  She feared that the attention and reflected glory might be harmful to them in some way.  The boys were lapping it all up though and didn't seem to be any the worse for their experience.  She hoped that in a few weeks things might settle down again and some manner of normality be regained.  Their
educational arrangements
would be
established
by then
and with luck they would settle into their new school quickly and happily.

The various governments had evidently been waiting for public reaction to become established before officially acknowledging the group's formation.  One by one the major powers gave their stamp of approval and offered assistance, usually in the form of finance but sometimes by the offer of their own facilities and expertise in furthering the group's aims.

"Our little plan has succeeded beyond my wildest expectations
,"
confided Dent to Lincoln on one occasion after a particularly enthusiastic reception.  And with a sly grin added
,
"
We
had more trouble winning over Elango than the rest of the world".

"You wouldn't think the General had ever needed winning over to hear him talk
,"
remarked Lincoln, "I'm sure a lot of people think the group was his idea."

Dent laughed, "I confess I had a few doubts about him at first but now he's worth his weight in gold."

***************

"Not long now
,"
said Geoff North cheerfully
.  He was referring to the long
awaited reappearance of Procyon over the horizon.

He and Dag Fransson were alone in the control room, Geoff manning the
communication
console and Dag preparing some recently collected data for analysis.

Dag checked the clock.  "Mmm
,"
he agreed, "just over four hours."

"I reckon we must be the only people out of contact with the transmissions for any length of time
,"
grumbled Geoff.  "And judging by the news reports we're certainly missing something.  In fact this contact has had a much bigger effect on everyone back home than I ever thought it would.  I didn't think the general public had much interest in aliens, now they can think of little else."

"It'll be a short lived novel
ty.  W
hen people realise that radio waves are the only interchange possible they'll soon lose interest.  Even so, they do seem to have reacted with more fervour than a few bits of alien music would warrant, the world has practically come to a standstill." 

Four hours later all thought of any other research was forgotten.  Almost all
of
the observatory staff
w
ere
either in the control room or outside in th
e corridor waiting for the long
missed signals.  As Lincoln's deputy Jean Forsyth had tried to keep those present down to reasonable numbers but had given up the attempt.  As long as she had room to work at the control console she was content enough. 

"Twenty seconds to go
,"
she announced and then began the count down from ten.  The Big Ear had been accurately lined up for the past fifteen minutes and was fixed at the point on the horizon where the star would shortly appear.

"Five... four... three... two... one... zero
,"
she counted tensely.  The star's background hiss came over clearly but nothing else.  Jean looked perplexed, had she miscalculated?  No, the aliens should be transmitting.  She was about to contact earth
w
hen the long
awaited music flooded the control room.  With relief everyone relaxed and enjoyed the fleeting, dancing chords and the deep reassuring background.  The whole composition created an ultra soothing, tranquillising atmosphere.  Jean looked round the room.  People were standing, eyes
closed, drinking in the soothing
experience.  She had been slightly annoyed at her miscalculation,
thirty seconds
too early in predicting the onset of the signal was a bad error in her opinion.  She liked precision.  But the music soon made her forget, and she enjoyed it with the rest.

Only Geoff looked ill at ease.  He quietly left the control room and made his way to his cabin on the floor below.  No one noticed him leave, and no one would have paid any attention if they had.

He returned a quarter of an hour later with a
sensitive microphone and
sound recorder.  People were sitting and lying around the room in every spare space and he had difficulty in picking his way through.

"Settle down Geoff
,"
whispered Dag, "
e
njoy
the performance."  But Geoff showed no sign of having heard, he just
continued
to
record the transmission.

After about ten minutes he departed again leaving the others exactly as he had found them.  The music lasted another hour and then gently ceased. 
After an early period of gradually increasing duration a
regular
pattern had been established of roughly two hours on and one hour off, day and night, regular as clockwork.  There would be no further transmission for a while so people began to disperse, nerves soothed, tensions eased, and each left with a beautiful sense of calm and peace.

Jean soon remembered the unexpected delay in signal reception.  Surely the planet from which the signal originated could not be so far away from Procyon as to rise a full half minute later than the star.  If anything she had expected it to be a few seconds early, at least that would have been consistent with their earlier source calculation.  She had to find out the truth.  The number three interferometer could pinpoint the signal source accurately but unfortunately it was tied up on
other
work.  If she asked officially to check the source position consent would undoubtedly be withheld until after the current exercise so as not to spoil the data, but that would take at least another two days.  Her curiosity could not be contained that long.

As acting head of the observatory perhaps she had the authority to make the check without reference to headquarters.  It was a debatable point and one that she would rather argue about after the event than before it.  She was resolved to go ahead and so she preset the approximate co-ordinates into the number three control store in readiness for when the transmission resumed.  If headquarters became aware of the change they would ask questions, but by then it would be too late, she only needed a few seconds to make the necessary observations.

Dag Fransson was busily engaged in the
manual
backup
safety checks when Geoff found him.

"Got a minute Dag
?"
h
e
asked
,
a faint note of disquiet in his voice.

Dag continued noting cabin temperatures and pressures on his log sheet.  "I'll be another ten minutes at...
"
he stopped abruptly as he caught the look of urgency in Geoff's eyes.  "What's the matter?"

"I don't know yet, I want to try something out on you."

"OK, give me a hand with these readings and then I'll take a break."  The two finished off the measurements and then Dag followed Geoff to his cabin.

"Right, what next
?"
asked Dag.  Geoff told him to sit down.  "I want you to listen to some of the alien music.  Just sit there and relax."  Dag sat back and waited.  Geoff replay
ed
the piece he had recorded earlier and then sat down himself.  After the piece finished Geoff switched the
recorder
off.

Dag looked up.

"Tell me what your impression was."

"It's very
pleasant;
I find it relaxing and enjoyable."

"OK, now I'll play it again."  Geoff
adjusted the instrument
while Dag grew more and more curious.  He contained his desire to know what it was all about though, he knew Geoff could be very stubborn when he wanted to be and would only reveal the secret when he was good and ready.  Geoff switched on again and left the room.  He returned after the piece had finished.

"What was your impression this time?"