The team has decoded enough of the signal to build out the AI translator Jessa and attempts direct contact.
First Contact Facility
December 2024, Nighttime (Jupiter in Opposition, Closest Approach to Earth)
I shook Kate awake. She’d been pulling long hours and working nights, but tonight she had her presentation to the team. We needed to check Jessa’s progress in making last-minute changes to the first contact script and set up the theater. No rest for the weary.
“Wake up, Katy. There’s coffee out on the counter.” Kate rolled over and pulled the covers over her bare shoulders. “No, Kate. Today’s the big day.” I gave her shoulder a gentle tug.
Kate rolled onto her back and brushed the hair out of her eyes with a free hand. “I know. Sleep was just feeling so good.” Kate slipped out of bed and padded her cute, naked butt into the bathroom. I figured an hour, and we’d be ready to go. The door re-opened a crack, and her arm appeared up to the elbow, her hand waving at nothing. I zipped into the kitchenette and grabbed her coffee. A muffled thank you was just audible as the door closed.
The last two years had been challenging. We’d translated about twenty percent of the intercepted chatter. It was predominantly about us and the need to keep us at bay. But it had proven sufficient to understand and compose simple statements.
With the Earth coming up on its closest approach to Jupiter this year, we needed to be ready. Something was happening with the gas giants. What Jessa called The Conversation had been going on at least since Galileo entered orbit around Jupiter late in 1995. Tonight, Kate was launching the latest upgrades to Jessa, which we expected might let us talk back.
Our analysis of the backlog of data revealed the same harmonics that Kate and Jessa had uncovered back in 2022. We even located radio-astronomy data from the conjunction of May 2000. Just like in 2020, we found data embedded in the carrier wave. For two years, the team had been cataloging and translating these transmissions. Today, we would connect Jessa to the dedicated antenna and see if she could enter The Conversation.
Kate came out of our bedroom dressed in the uniform of the day: blue jeans and a concert t-shirt. In truth, some version of that was the uniform every day. Still, she looked adorable.
“Ok, Jenny. I’m ready to go. We’ll see how Jessa does today.”
I gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure you both will do fine.”
The theater was ready, and Jessa had finished the final script translations. At a worktable at the front of the room, Kate quietly talked to Jessa through her laptop while the team filtered in, nervously chatting with each other as they found seats. Most team members settling into their places had been in the first contact design meetings and knew the script. But truthfully, if we made contact, we didn’t know how the conversation would go.
Colonel Buckley, Mavis, when she’s not being her official self, entered the back of the room and made her way down the aisle, occasionally greeting a team member as she passed.
I drifted over to where Kate and Jessa were chatting.
Mavis finished a conversation with a team member sitting in the front row and joined us. “You three ladies ready?”
Kate had equipped Jessa with a voice synthesizer, and Jessa’s soft contralto emanated from the laptop’s speakers. “Good morning, Colonel. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Jessa’s comment sparked a slight smile from Mavis.
Kate stood and motioned us to move away from the worktable. She turned to face Mavis. Worry flashed across Kate’s expression. “Are you still going to kill the antenna feed? Jessa doesn’t know enough to give away any information.”
“Kate, I’ll only use it if I feel Jessa is talking for herself and doesn’t stay on script. Ok?”
We had talked about this. Space Force was still in charge, and we needed to respect that. I needed to make one more appeal. “We know. We only want some leeway.”
“You’ll get as much as I can give you. We’ve gone over this, and as long as Jessa stays inside the guardrails we’ve established, she’ll be fine. You must admit it’s risky turning first contact over to an AI, no matter how cooperative she is.”
Colonel Buckley turned and took her seat in the front row. She pulled out her tablet and gave Kate the signal to proceed.
With a quick keystroke, Kate projected the interaction with Jessa on the theater’s screen and switched the audio to the theater’s sound system. “We’re about to begin. Jessa, please access the first contact script and proceed with interaction zero.”
Everyone went quiet; the theater screen lit up with the predefined first outgoing message:
Greetings from the third planet, our home we call Earth. We regret any damage caused by our probe. We were not aware of your presence. We welcome the opportunity to share knowledge. We will strive to respect your privacy and avoid conflict and misunderstandings. Please respond.
The “message sent” icon flashed on Kate’s laptop, where she and I sat at the worktable. It would take over an hour for a response to be received.
We waited.
The team members in the theater worked, read, conversed, or fidgeted. Mavis, as usual, was glued to her phone. Kate and I sat and watched the signal feed from the antenna that ran hypnotically across Jessa’s screen below the message text.
The waiting was excruciating. There’s nothing more nerve-wracking than watching a carrier wave jiggle across the screen while you hope for the most important message you could imagine. We knew there would be a delay, but we watched intently for the first blip that signaled an answer.
I tried not to be bored on the one hand and anxious on the other. I was unsuccessful at either, so I layered on some guilt that I couldn’t wait patiently.
Then —
The wave display lit up, and a message scrolled down the screen.
Message received. Do not visit. Do not send more probes. Do not venture past the rocky boundary beyond the fourth planet. You are not welcome. We will contact you if we choose. Message ends.
Silence in the room. We had contacted an alien intelligence and received a response. For a moment, the wonder of that fact overwhelmed us.
But the response was not the one we’d expected. What to do with it? Contact with an alien intelligence, but still, that stay away message. Why?
The room erupted in dozens of conversations, cheers, shouted questions, a cacophony of acclamation, but some cries of disappointment. Mavis stood and faced the group. “Quiet down, everyone. Please, take your seats.” As the team settled, Mavis approached our small worktable. “Kate, are we sure of the message?”
Where she sat next to me, Kate had been quietly talking with Jessa, running validation sub-routines, confirming the message and the translation. “Yes, Colonel. Jessa has confirmed the message.” Kate slumped and failed to blink back the tears. “So that’s it? We’re just shut off. All this work. Jessa’s purpose. All for nothing?”
I put my arm around Kate and held her close. “Katy, we’re not done. We got a response. We know we can talk to them. They might listen even if they don’t answer.”
Mavis faced the team and put a light hand on Kate’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Folks, this was not what we expected. But we’re still in the game. We’ll transmit the rest of the script, clarify our intentions, and listen. Maybe they’ll respond.”
Zak stood at the back of the room. “And we have Saturn coming into closest approach in September next year. We can try again then. We know Jessa got the translations right. Let’s see if we can’t move that up. Let’s get to work.”
The team drifted out singly and in small groups. Dispirited, nobody cheered for Saturn next year or looked like they wanted to get back to work. I was glad Zak hadn’t tried to give us a pep talk. I know I wasn’t in the mood. I just wanted to head back to our quarters and comfort Kate.
There would be time enough tomorrow to regroup.
###
FBI Special Agent Raul Fuentes and his team entered the sterile-looking, unadorned office on the top floor of the Space Systems and Technologies building in Houston. After two years and thousands of hours of investigation, the task force had finally compiled enough evidence to convince a magistrate to issue a warrant to search the SST offices. Fuentes had made his bones on the team, leveraging his knowledge from the original Arizona murder case from 2022. With this arrest, he was one step closer to finding the answers he’d sought: Why kill Raymond? Where were Chandler and Watson? Why was the Space Force involved?
Fuentes approached the woman with the slicked-back bright purple hair in the stylish but severe white suit sitting behind the uncluttered glass desk and flashed his credentials. “Special Agent Fuentes, FBI. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
The woman took the warrant and leaned back in her white leather chair. “And just what does the FBI think I’ve done?”
“You’re being arrested for the murder for hire of Dr. Carl Raymond.”
“Who the hell is Carl Raymond, and what makes you think I wanted him killed?” The woman shifted in her chair and perused the warrant.
Fuentes removed his handcuffs from the case on his belt. “We have a witness. It took a while, but we found the right one; there’s always a satellite looking down. We located the tall man, and he pointed us at you. He said to tell you, you should have paid his full fee.”
Fuentes moved behind the desk. The woman stood, and Fuentes handcuffed her.
“You think arresting me is going to solve anything? You guys are so out of your league. When SST gets to Mars, you won’t be able to touch them. So good luck, FBI man.”
Fuentes flashed the woman a thin smile, grasped her arm, and led her out. They left the team behind to finish the search and headed downstairs to the waiting armored SUV.
As the elevator descended, Fuentes considered the path that had led him to this arrest. Maybe now he’d get some answers to his questions. They’d unraveled Raymond’s murder, but the whereabouts of the two girls remained a mystery. He’d get that answer, too; it was just a matter of time.