“Sure.”

“Would there be a way to know whether there are lifeforms on another ship? That is, if we ran into something, but it stayed quiet, do we have sensors that could reach in there and determine somebody’s on board?”

“No,” he said. “Any ship in close to Alnitak would have to be heavily insulated against radiation. The Hunter would have no way of knowing directly whether it had a crew, or whether it was automated. The only way to be sure is to talk to them. And even that wouldn’t tell you definitely because you could be dealing with an AI.” He thought about it some more. “I think you’d have to go over physically and shake hands.” He grinned. “Or shake whatever. Until then it’s strictly guesswork.”

At first she didn’t remember where she was. Hunter was sending again. Blip. Blip. Blip–The pattern now was one-three-five-seven. Inviting the other vessel to send a nine. Did the fact that they’d changed the sequence mean they’d gotten an answer?

She was back on the couch. Solly had thrown a spread over her.

“They’ve been at it for about two hours, I think,” he said.

“You think?”

“There was a break in midsignal. It continued for fourteen minutes. They may have gone behind something. Maybe that gas giant you mentioned.”

It was after four A.M. Four hours since they’d picked up the Hunter signal. “Do you want to go back and get some sleep?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think I’ve had enough of this for one night. How about you?”

“I’m going to stay with it.”

“Okay.” He got up, bent over her, kissed her lightly. “I never would have thought they might actually have discovered something but got ignored. Hey, we found a bona fide celestial out there, but they wouldn’t talk to us. Where’d they go? No idea.”

“Well,” she said, “I hope we get more than this” She looked at the monitor, which was blinking out the new count. “I can see myself sitting in Agostino’s office with a recording that does nothing but produce blips from the Hunter.”

Solly stopped in the hatchway. “If nothing else,” he said, “we can prove beyond any doubt that Kane faked the logs. Whatever these transmissions might really be about, none of them were recorded.” He started to peel off his shirt. “Call me if anything happens—”

Then he was gone and she was yawning, snuggling back under the spread, listening to the radio noises. One, three, five, seven. Over and over.

But she was awake now. She got up and got some coffee. Mission control was always cooler than the rest of the ship.

Life support wasn’t quite correct. “Come on, Valiant,” she said. “Answer up.”

She drank the coffee. The Hunter group kept transmitting.

The bearing on the radio signal pointed directly to Alnitak. They’d come out of hyper somewhere near the star, as she thought, probably in the neighborhood of the gas giant. And there they’d met another sight-seer.

The incoming signal changed.

One. Two. Three. Five.

Five?

Then eight.

Kim flicked on the intercom. “I hear it,” said Solly, from his quarters. “What does it mean?”

The system went silent.

“It’s a new series,” she said. “A little more complicated. Solly, I think they might have got a response.”

“Why?”

“Why else veer from a simple series?” She was conjuring up the scene on board: jumping up and down, clapping one another on the back, screaming congratulations.

“So what’s the next number?”

“Thirteen,” she said. “If it’s really happening, that’s what they’re listening to right now. Thirteen blips from the other ship.”

“It would be nice if we had something a little more concrete to speculate with.” But he came back to mission control in his pajamas and squeezed her hand. “I hope you’re right.” The squeeze developed into an embrace.

She was right. She was sure of it. And in that moment she was supremely happy.

Solly held onto her and rocked her back and forth while they waited for the next series.

When it came, she counted eleven. That was all: eleven blips.

“What is it this time?” asked Solly.

“Who knows?” she said. “Eleven’s a prime number. But it should be a response to something the other ship sent.”

“Such as?”

“One, two, three, five, seven. All primes. Or maybe they sent the first five odd numbers.”

Solly shook his head and eased himself into a chair. “Kim,” he said, “we don’t really have anything here.”

“Well, what did you expect?” she demanded, pushing away from him. “We knew it would be a one-sided conversation. Short of pictures, this is as much as we could have asked.”

Again the system was quiet. They waited and the silence stretched out past fifteen minutes. “Maybe they’re trying to decide what to do next,” she said.

“What would you do?”

“Face-to-face. I’d go visual. If that went okay, I’d try for a physical meeting. Send out the lander.”

Solly nodded. “You think there could be a problem with the visual exchange?”

She thought it over. “Yes.”

“For example?”

“What happens if they’re stomach-churners and they see us reacting? Or if we arouse visceral reactions in them? But at some point you have to try it.”

The AI broke in: “We have video reception,” it said in its mellifluous voice.

Solly’s eyes caught her and a world of emotions passed between them. He switched the feed to the overhead display.

“Enhancing.”

“On-screen,” said Solly.

They were looking at the Hunter seal, the ship and the ringed world. After a moment it dissolved to Emily! She sat in an armchair. Kim felt a pang of regret. How young she looked. And she was radiant with emotion. Her hair was pulled back, she wore a loose-fitting white blouse, and she smiled happily at them. “We know you can’t understand any of this, but (not recoverable) hello anyhow. Greetings from Greenway. Can (not recoverable) you?”

Kim’s heart pumped furiously.

One by one, each of the Hunter’s crew came forward and talked. Tripley gushed. He was, despite the physical resemblance to Benton, quite unlike him. A softer man, more enthusiastic, more alive.

Yoshi was gentle, lovely, with luminous eyes and a ravishing smile. She wished her new friends good fortune, and expressed her hope that this would be the beginning of a new era for both their species.

“I think we’re in business,” said Solly.

Kim shook her head, wondering how the images would be interpreted by the occupants of the other ship. If they could see them at all. What was the likelihood their equipment would be sufficiently compatible to receive visuals?

“That’s fairly straightforward technology,” Solly said. “They’d almost have to have the capability.”

And finally Kane. He spoke from the pilot’s room, and his manner was perfunctory but not gruff. He said he was pleased to meet the occupants of the other ship. That remark sent Kim into another round of celebrating,

“Congratulations,” Solly said.

Kane asked whether the Hunter could assist. He was somehow the only one of the four who managed to keep the pomposity naturally generated by such a moment out of his voice.

Kane gazed out of the picture directly at them for about a minute. And then he was gone. The screen flashed the Hunter seal again, and the picture blinked off.

“End of reception,” said the AI.

Kim was still standing up, far too excited to sit. “I’d do anything to see the answer to that” she said.

“Find the original logs,” said Solly.

She nodded. “We have to do that when we get back. That’s our first priority.”

Solly folded his arms and stared at the screen. “I hope Kane didn’t destroy them.”

“I’m sure he didn’t. This is the most dramatic moment in human history. There’s no way he’d have destroyed the record. None. He’s hidden it somewhere.”