"Ah, Mason," he said, with the odious affability of the public figure, "Sit down". Thank God for that, thought Massen, it's not trouble anyway, but what can the old bot want. The old boy came to the point with unusual speed.
"Briefly," he said, "I have just been informed that the B.B.C. research engineers at Malvern claim to have received wireless messages from the direction of the moon. I am advised that we can dismiss the possibility of intelligence indigenou s to our satellite, and assume that we are being approached by a race which has evolved space travel and is using the moon as a "pied-a-terre".
Masssen said nothing, and he went on pompously: "I neeed hardly emphasize the necessity of treating this information as highly confidential. The negotiations have, of course, been put in the hands of my Department. I know there is no precedent, but i t was generally realised that the most suitable Ministry to deal with these alien beings was the Foreign Office: first however we have to find some means of mutual understanding. That will be your job."
Massen swallowed. "But sir," he stammered, "My knowledge of terrestrial languages won't be of much use inn dealing with one that probably belongs to none of the phonetic or ideographical classes known to us."
"Er, quite, quite," said the Foreign Secretary, "but actually I have chosen you less because of your ability as a diplomat, though your experience should have given you the necessary resilience of mind, than on accountof your work with cyph ers, and your knowledge of mathematics." He coughed almost apologetically. "I must explain that the signals so far received apparently consist entirely of groups of morse dots."
"But," said Massen, "if radio communication is possible, why not television?"
"One might have thought so, but the Chief Engineer tells me that is impossible for the present. I do not understand," he said almost proudly, "the technical jargon used by these fellows, but he said something about synchronization, and I ga ther that any alien system of transmission is extremely unlikely to be suited to our present types of receiver. However," he continued boldly, "I have every confidence in your ability, my dear Mason, and do not hesitate to call on any assistence you may require."
It was obviously a matter of urgency to acknowledge the message as soon as possible, and when he reached the room which was being hurredly prepared for him he asked to hear the recordings. While he waited he asked the Engineer for a report.
"Well, Mr. Mason-"
"Massen."
"Sorry. Well, the signals started, or at least were first heard, at 10:30 this morning. They consist of an amplitude modulated transmission on about 75 megacycles, carrying a pure audio-frequency note of 2,400 cycles. Since there is only one A.F. we have been able to use considerable amplification, with audio filters and negative feedback."
"Thanks," said Massen, but-" At that instant the recording came on. The message consisted of 'pips' like those of the Greenwich time signals, but transmitted very rapidly and divided into groups by almost imperceptable pauses. Massen not ed each dot on his pad and counted them carefully:
"And this message is still being transmitted, without change?"
"Yes. At intervals of about 13 minutes. The next is due in a few moments. You will hear it through this speaker. And here is the key of our transmitter, for your reply."
"Good," said Massen, "then would you please answer with a group of 41 dots. They have sent us the first 12 prime numbers, and then by replying with the thirteenth we tell them that they are in touch with someone possessing a knowledge of m athematics."
"As the last dot sped on its journey a tense silence fell on the room. The wait seemed endless, but after only two minutes the alien transmission began again, with what seemed a new eagerness. Massen could hardly control his fingers as he noted the dots. The first human to communicate with extra-terrestrial beings! The message was long and very fast, and he was unable to examine it as he wrote. But when it had ceased he looked at the mass of dots in dismay. He counted them hurriedly:
1, 13, 2, 16, 5, 17, 9, 16, 13, 13, 16, 9,
17, 9, 1, 3, dash, 1, 3, 5
All at once he was attacked by an overwhelming sense of catastrophe. He whirled round, but there was nothing unusual, except that the Engineer had left the room. He stared vacantly at the desk, and the realization struck him like a blow that the signals had stopped. The implications stunned him. The aliens had abandoned their project in disgust at human, at his, obtuseness. The message would prove to be absurdly simple and humanity would revile him for having bungled their greatest opportunity. The-
The phone rang, and he lifted the receiver clumsily. It was the Engineer. "It's all right, the receiver's O.K. The moon has set, and we needn't expect anything more until 7:50 tomorrow morning."
Massen felt better after sandwiches and coffee in the Cafeteria. "I wonder," the Engineer was saying, "why they don't just land on Earth? I suppose they're short of fuel?"
"More likely they want to make sure of a friendly reception."
"Yes," said the Engineeer, "I suppose they might easily land in some barbarous place and be attacked." He eyed Massen sympathetically. "What are you going to do next?"
"God knows," said Massen, "play the recordings again, I suppose."
At 1 a.m. the recordings were still being played, and the Engineer had gone to bed. Massen was lying back in his chair and resting his eyes. His brain was tired too, but he could not afford to sleep. There was no time to waste, he thought, staring at h is watch.
The chair skittered against the wall as he burst into the ante-room, where a weary technician was lifting another disc.
"Can you slow down that turn-table?"
"Sure. How's that?"
"More. Yes, that'll do."
The dots began to resemble fog-horn blasts. Massen took off his watch and set it down before him.
Half an hour passed, and the technician looked up again as Massen flung open the door.
"You can pack up now. Everything's all right."
13,2 16,5 17,9 16,13 13,16 9,17
9,1 3, dash, 1, 3, 5
"Don't you see," Massen exclaimed. The co-ordinates of a graph! Plot these points, connect them, and you will find you have drawn a circle and a diameter. They have sent us a picture! With patience they could draw anything the same way." ;
"And the number at the end?"
"The value of Pi expressed in the 12cale of notation. Presumably they want to know our scale so they can send larger numbers, and thus more complicated pictures. It will be enough to reply '3, dash, 1, 4, 1, 7.'
As they waited beside the transmitter key the Engineer asked, "What do you think they'll send us next?"
"I don't know," said Massen. "Theoretically we could learn one another's language this way, but it would be a slow job. I expect they'll just arrange a landing or a television contact."
"Well, I think the world owes you a vote of thanks, Mr. Mason," said the Engineer.
Earth's first diplomatic representative was much too happy to protest.
Data entry and page scans provided by Judy Bemis
Data entry by Judy Bemis
Updated December 11, 2017. If you have a comment about these web pages please send a note to the Fanac Webmaster. Thank you.