There was a great deal about Jake Gorham that Sam didn’t understand. He was as much an enigma to her now as he had been when she had first gone to work for him on SETI based tracking project nine years ago. However, the years working with him had taught her this - Jake was a resourceful man who never wasted valuable time or energy with what he considered meaningless chatter. Sam knew that if Jake had contacted her now, even after all the animosity he knew she held for him, than there could be only one reason for it. Jake was sure he was on to something big.
Precisely at 3:55 Sam was waiting at the ferry terminal. Shading her eyes and squinting across the water she could just make out the Edmund S. Muskie as it steadily glided towards the Island. Right on schedule, as usual.
Sam waved to the men in the nondescript white van, indicating they should follow her. Five minutes later they were unloading the highly sensitive equipment onto her front lawn.
"In here, guys." She said, striding down the foyer. Opening the parlor door, she pointed to the space she had cleared of furniture in one corner of the big room.
After they had gone, Sam wandered back to the parlor and sank down into one of the wing chairs. The jumble of modern, technical computers and equipment looked ridiculous in the old room. It was all so shiny. Sam sighed, knowing she should stop stalling and get busy setting it all up. She knew that Jake would expect her to be online as soon as possible.
Chapter 9
It’s too nice to be stuck inside behind a desk, Sam thought longingly as she gazed out the window. Dutifully, she tried to return her attention to reading the latest batch of print - outs. Carefully checking each column against the previous one, looking for any kind of deviation at all.
Screw it, she muttered, tossing them into a pile.
She grabbed her jacket and headed outside, deciding to take the well trampled cliff path to Hockamock Head. It was one of those pristine days that can happen in Maine only in very late spring when the mud season is finished. The sunlight made dappled patterns through the newly sprouted leaves, which blew sharply in the constant breeze from the Atlantic.
As she got closer to the Head, she was joined by an enthusiastic Spike, who unexpectedly bounded out at her from a clump of bayberry bushes.
"Hello there, good boy," Sam stroked the soft, burnished fur on top of his head,
"where’s your partner hiding himself, huh?"
But even as she asked the question she spotted Happy a short distance away. He was smoking his pipe, perched on top of a faded blue Ford Fairlane that was missing all four of it’s tires.
"Looks like someone’s playing hooky." He commented dryly as Sam settled herself beside him on the sun - baked hood.
"You caught me," Sam grinned, "don’t tell anyone."
They sat looking out at Jericho Bay in a companionable silence, both enjoying this peaceful moment in their own way. Sam could count seven working lobster boats out there pulling traps. She shaded her eyes from the glare of the sun, trying to see if one of them was the Sea Bitch, Kevin Dodge’s boat. But they were all too far out for her to easily decipher any of the lettering on the sides. Giving up, she leaned back lazily on her elbows, raising her face up to the warm sun.
Happy proceeded to pack his pipe with his standard Cherry Blend. "Still eavesdropping on outer space?" He asked as he patted his pockets for a match.
"Yep." Was Sam’s only reply. But in that brief moment, the relaxed, contented expression had left her face to be replaced by .... what? Happy wasn’t sure. He just knew that suddenly she looked worried and tired.
"Do you recall what you kids used to call me when you were back in school?"
Asked Happy, drawing on his pipe. "Crazy Joyce." He finished, nodding his head up and down.
"God, Happy, were we that shity to you?" Sam slipped her hand into his as she tried to remember. "All just because you were a little different."
"Yep," joked Happy, "that’s me ...... just a round peg trying to fit into a square hole and always ending up in splinters."
"Kids can really be cruel, Hap. But you know what I remember the most?" Asked Sam. "I remember when I stopped being afraid of your difference and got to know you. You’re to blame for my obsession with astronomy, you know. >From the first time you pointed out Orion to me when I was ten years old, I was hooked."
"Maybe," he mumbled. "Anyway, Sammy, know what the kids call me now?"
Sam shook her head.
"Crazy Joyce." Happy said with a chuckle. "Some things don’t change. Probably aren’t meant to."
There was a comfortable stillness between them, only broken when Happy spoke once more. "Well, I may or may not be crazy .... damned if I know the answer to that one. But, Sammy, I’m still here for you if you need someone to talk to."
"Just like the old days, Happy." Sam said, reaching over to give him a quick hug, which only served to make his face go deep red with embarrassment.
"Go on with you." He said roughly, pushing her off the Fairlane’s hood. "Don’t you have any work to do?"
The walk had been just what she’d needed. The fresh sea air had helped to jump start her brain. For the remainder of the day, Sam diligently picked away at the immense pile of paper, reducing it to only a small pile of paper.
Finally, sighing with fatigue, she pushed her chair back and did a couple of quick neck rolls, easing the tension in her shoulders. Glancing at the tall clock in the corner, she realized that she had a bit over an hour to shower and change for her big night on the town with Per. Okay, she thought, just enough time for one more sheet.
Sam spotted it almost immediately. She couldn’t have missed it even if she had wanted to. It practically jumped up at her from the paper. A distinct spike. Not only that, but a prolonged and sizable spoke. She marked it with the highlighter, conscientiously noting the day, month and time of occurrence in the margin of the paper.
Despite herself, she was trembling with excitement. Professionally, she knew that all coordinates needed to be checked and triple checked. Nonetheless, Sam instinctively recognized what she had before her spread out on the desktop. A
genuine, Goddamn, cosmic greeting card.
Chapter 10
Her mind totally engrossed in her finding, Sam immediately forgot everything else, including her dinner date with Per.
According to the date on the print-out, the atypical spike had occurred just three days before. Sam couldn’t believe how calm she was acting. Inside she felt as if she were ready to boil over. After all these years of listening, we finally have one, she thought to herself. She had always wondered if it would even be possible to recognize such a message if one were actually received. Back in 1977 a forceful signal had been picked up that couldn’t be explained before it had just as rapidly disappeared. But this time, there was no doubt about the validity of what she had found. This was a planetary message that was so unusual it couldn’t help but stand out against all the natural, every day radio waves that were floating around out there over vast, interstellar distances. This one had made a series of tell-tale blips rather than merely random noise, thus allowing it to be picked out easily from all the garbage.
Quickly glancing at her watch, Sam punched Jake’s private office number into her deskphone. Even though it was well after six PM, she knew he would still be in his office.
"I’ve found it." She flatly stated. "Of course, I’ll double check it with Goldstone, but I’m certain in my findings. I’m faxing it to you now."
"Hold on," Jake practically shouted into his end of the phone, as he dropped the receiver to retrieve the fax. "Christ, Sam ...... it looks damn good. Very possible indeed."