ARIA (4 page)

He couldn’t understand why Derek and Teresa weren’t excited about a probable alien artefact. Maybe it was his overactive imagination, fuelled by his early-years’ indulgence in Sci-Fi. It could be that NASA had deliberately played down the discovery so as not to be alarmist, or they might have believed it originated on Earth, left behind by a negligent astronaut.

He had to wait for Manuel to finish his breakfast before pumping him, again.

“It’s going to be opened today, Ryder, so—”

“Patch me into it, Manny.”

“The security’s hellish tight, but I’ll see. You’d better keep this channel open in case I can only feed you intermittently. Gotta go, buddy. Ciao.”

It was just as well that communications were ultra-broadband and multi-channel, even so, Ryder thought he’d better let Teresa know, in case she shut off the link. He was writing her a Post-It note when she arrived home.

“Look at this place. It’s filthy,” she said, trawling a finger along a sideboard.

“Really? Look, Teresa, I’m waiting for a call—”

“We’re going to have to sack Elsie. It’s no good.”

“—only they’re opening the case today.”

“I suppose she told you that she had to leave early to sort out her daughter’s marital problems again. I hope we don’t produce offspring like Loopy Lisa.” She draped herself over his shoulders as he sat at the computer.

“’Course not...What?”

“You’re not listening to me, are you? Ryder?”

“What was it? Something more important than mankind discovering we’re not alone in the universe? Sorry, I shouldn’t be sarcastic.”

“Oh, were you? Even if little green men burst out of the case, we would still need our flat cleaned.”

“Elsie did ring,” said Ryder. “Lisa is having problems, again. I would’ve mentioned it as soon as you came in, only—”

“You were watching out for E.T.”

“You’re a biologist, Teresa. Aren’t you enthralled by the idea of extra-terrestrial life, which must exist if that case isn’t from Earth? And there might be microbes, bacteria, even small life forms in the case.”

“My uni teaching job is complicated enough. Stuffing the heads of hung-over students with a fraction of what there is to know about life on Earth.”

Ryder didn’t want to take his eyes off the screen in case he missed something. “Good point. But how would you like to be head of a new department? You could call it—”

“Faculty of Little Green Men and Other Mental Disorders. Hey, is that your computer?” said Teresa.

“Great. It’s the patch into the Dryden Lab at Edwards. Look, there’s the case.”

“There are some like it on special offer in Lo-Cost.”

“Funny girl. But can you see that logo?”

“No. You see, Ryder, there’s a known condition where the part of your brain that interprets signals from the optic nerve is overridden by wishful thinking. Oh...I see it now. It’s holographic yet looks solid. I assume you’re referring to the chevron symbol that appears to hover just above the lid—if that’s a lid.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He was relieved she was interested at last. Apart from needing a fellow human to share ideas and wonderment, Teresa’s biological expertise could be useful.

“I assume that the lab’s glove-box will prevent back-contamination in the event of putative organisms getting into the atmosphere?” she asked.

“Manuel says they’re using sterile nitrogen.”

“Not a vacuum?”

“Back in the late sixties, when they built the first NASA lab to handle moon rocks, the technicians found a vacuum glove-box unworkable. And the gloves leaked. In fact, no one’s been able to make a completely leak-proof containment lab. They concentrate on attempting to prevent the escape of infectious diseases.”

“Yes, Ryder, the best place for doing this opening-the-case stuff is out in space.”

“Can you guess why they didn’t?”

“It has to be politics.”

“No flies on you, kid. The US government doesn’t want anyone else to know what’s in it.”

“That begs two questions, Ryder. Aren’t they going to be a bit peeved at us, in London, being able to watch it being opened?”

“What they don’t know...and the second?” he asked.

“Are they so naïve as to think aliens have put blueprints in the case? Maybe to end all diseases, a perfect weapon and a mass hypnosis machine so that mad woman, Caroline Diazem, can stay president forever.”

“You’re right, Teresa. Look, they’re using a robotic probe to open it.”

“Looks like they’re trying the knock-three-times method.”

“I think they’ve already tried sending it
please open
messages, using all the frequencies in the electromagnetic spectrum. Usual codes. Prime numbers, pi, Fibonacci series, our DNA sequence—everything.”

“Have they tried human speech with open sesame?”

“As if the residents of Alpha Centauri or wherever would be conversant in English and—”

“D’oh! Listen up, Homer. If an intelligent alien species left a package for us to find on our doorstep, deliberately, on one of our most sophisticated pieces of technology, they must have researched us. They’d know our languages, history, and legends. What would be the point of using non-human means of opening it?”

Ryder threw apart his hands. “As a test?”

“Haven’t you been listening? They already know how dumb we are. So it should be easy to open the case.” When Teresa used logic, it was always impeccable.

They watched the futile attempts to use the robotic arm until boredom won. Even so, long after Teresa called it a night, he stayed up.

In spite of the swallowed double espressos and Pro-Plus intake, Ryder drifted in and out of sleep in the lounge while a static screen washed his face in fluorescent pale blue.

He sat bolt upright. A technician must have gone into the containment lab beyond the gloves. He wore a protective suit, complete with helmet and air supply. He placed his gloved hand on the case.

“No vibrations,” the technician’s voice came through.

Ryder grabbed both sides of the screen, desperate not to miss a single pixel. It would’ve been eleven p.m. at the American lab. Maybe they chose this time because management would not be around. Such political complications flitted through Ryder’s head as he concentrated on the technician.

“My hand passes through the chevron logo with no effect. I’m going to lift the case...It’s about ten kilograms. There doesn’t appear to be a seam or a handle. I can’t feel any lumps.”

Ryder was surprised at the speed the technician was handling and manipulating the case. It struck him that the idiot was either an exasperated maverick or being paid by an outside agency to get a quick result. He had to wake Teresa. If anything was going to happen, it would happen soon.

“This had better be worth it,” she said.

They both returned in time to see the technician remove his gloves.

“No. The idiot,” Teresa said.

“It had to happen sooner or later,” said Ryder, excited and defensive at the same time.

Teresa banged the table. “But there could be contaminants.”

“All the tests have been done. Anyway, there might have been a time limit of some sort. What’s he saying?”

“There is a vibration when I stroke my finger on the case. It feels warmer yet we know the temperature is the same as the air in here.”

Teresa’s hand covered her mouth. “My God, he’s handling it with no gloves.”

“I’m curious about the vibration, so I’m putting the movement sensor back on the case. No...Like before, it’s not picking up anything even though I can sense it with my hand. What does that mean, guys?”

“Who’s he talking to, Ryder?”

“Other techies, I suppose. Do you think the vibration is generated somehow in his hand because he’s organic unlike the movement sensor?”

“What? Ryder, he’s going to pass his hand through the logo. Ah, that did it. A seam has appeared in a red colour.”

“Shush.”

“The vibrations have increased and a dark orange medial line has appeared around the sides of the case. I’m going to lift my hand. Yes, the line disappears. I’m putting it back. Yes, the line has reappeared. I’m putting my fingers on either side of the case to see if it will lift—hey!”

And so, at last, the case split. It appeared to be animated, opening as if triggered and now under its own volition.

The mouths of Teresa and Ryder opened in time with the case.

The technician had taken his hand away and stepped back, but the case continued to open. The screen opened another window displaying digital readouts, but none of them indicated any emissions from the case.

The technician manoeuvred. “There are solid blocks...green-lilac colour...Trying to remember where I’ve seen a colour like it. I know, it’s like the supernumerary rainbow colours you sometimes get inside a primary bow. I’m going to pass the mobile sensor array over them.”

“At least the idiot’s not going to grab them with his bare hands,” said Teresa, clenching her fist.

“Give him another minute and he will,” said Ryder, alarmed but pleased that the quarantine period had been circumvented.

“No reaction,” reported the technician. It wasn’t quite accurate: a suited security man appeared on-screen and manhandled him away.

Teresa slumped back in a chair. “Well, that’s that.”

“The case is still open. Ah.”

The security man reappeared then closed the case.

After another hour, the screen went blank.

Saturday 18 April 2015:

London.

M
ANUEL
’
S
ID
SHOWED
ON
R
YDER
’
S
SCREEN
.”Are we connected again, buddy?”

“So relieved to be in touch, Manny. What happened?” Ryder tweaked to transmute the screen snow to a meaningful image.

“You weren’t the only one watching our renegade techie unwrapping the present.”

“Stop teasing. I guessed he wasn’t doing it just out of scientific curiosity.”

“The man, Second Engineer Tipless, had a supplementary income from
The New Fortean Times
, and he’s still being debriefed.”

“I bet he is. I’m not getting a picture, Manuel.”

“Well, this Tipless guy infringed a billion procedural regs–”

“I mean I’m getting voice—no images.”

“—so, no info is supposed to get out at all, Ryder, buddy. I’m doing a spot of infringing with this audio uplink.”

“I get it, Manny. No visuals for fear of getting your neck stretched. Tipless opened the case and breached containment forty-eight hours ago. Where’s the case now?”

“The incident sent shivers down NASA’s straight backs, so it’s been shifted, by jet, to Goddard. It’s in a more secure lab. Say, Ryder, isn’t your sister big at Goddard.”

“You know how to pick your words. I blame your damn American donuts.”

“Ha. What I meant was that the pressure’s off me to sneak these feeds to you.”

“And I’m hellish grateful. Before you go, Manny, what’s going to happen to Tipless? Besides interrogation?”

“Went with the case to Goddard.”

“Changing tack, are you and Sheila back on an even keel?”

“Sheila ran off to her mother’s. Two witches in one cauldron. Signing off, Ryder, before I change my mind and let her back in.”

“Sorry to hear you’ve split up, Manny. Take care.”

Eager to see what Goddard Space Flight Centre was doing with the case, Ryder buzzed his sister, even though she’d deny knowing anything, except what the space crew was eating.

“I’m really busy, Ryder.”

“Custard gone lumpy?”

“It’s the best way in space or as a gel. Is that it?”

“I wondered if you could get me patched through to the alien-case investigation, Karen, dear sister.”

“On your bike, Ryder. You’re always trying to get me sacked.”

“It’s about time you had a holiday.”

“The directorate is remarkably relaxed about that case. Tipless is still in detention. One of my staff has seen him to fill out a diet-need e-form.”

Ryder smiled. “Do you mean a menu?”

“He was bewildered.”

“As in couldn’t decide between mash and fries or didn’t know his name?”

“He knew his name, job, history all right, but he had no idea why he’s in custody. He even thought he was still at the Dryden labs in Edwards and expected to return to his own lab-bench routine this morning.”

“Shock does strange things,” Ryder said.

“True. Maybe he’s blocked the recent truth to keep his sanity.”

“Or, if I was a cynical copper, Karen, I’d suggest he’s playing dumb to protect someone else.”

“His entire motive was greed; his bank account overflows with newspaper money. But he might’ve flipped. Gotta go, bro. Love to Teresa.”

“Yep, and to yours, Karen.”

R
YDER
FLICKED
THROUGH
recent NASA photographs while he waited for the web-cam window to leap into life. Teresa had wanted them to go for a pub dinner but, because Ryder wouldn’t leave, had to cook instead. He’d hoped she’d have been understanding, but the cacophony from the kitchen denied it.