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Anomaly
Anomaly
Anomaly
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Anomaly

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As Professor Ron Fremont is being interviewed by Ann Hoffman, a Lowell Banner science reporter, two of his doctoral students detect a radio signal seeming to come from or near the dark horizon of the Moon using the radio telescope at the UML observatory. The signal appears to contain intelligent characteristics, but unlike anything of Earth origin. At Ron's urging, Ann agrees that mention of the detected signal in the newspaper will be suspended until Ron determines its nature.

Professor Fremont and his students eliminate the possibility of the signal originating from any satellite or terrestrial source, and verify the existence of intelligent content. They are baffled and curious as to why others around the globe haven't reported this signal. The intelligence embedded on the signal defies all their attempts at decoding. The students continue to detect the signal with the rise of the Moon above Earth's horizon as viewed from the UML observatory. All attempts to subscribe the signals to satellites or Earth launched spacecraft is for naught, firming belief that the signal is being generated by beings not of the Earth...
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateMay 9, 2022
ISBN9781667846774
Anomaly
Author

Bernie Ziegner

Bernie Ziegner grew up in Philadelphia. His career involved work as an electronic engineer for major defense contractors. He lived in Arizona for over two decades and now resides in Massachusetts. He can often be found in western Montana where he enjoys nature, horses, cattle and the local people.

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    Anomaly - Bernie Ziegner

    CHAPTER 1

    ANOMALY

    Present Day

    SO WHAT’D YOU do all weekend? asked Fred as he stared at the green lines of data on the computer screen. He reached up to make some adjustments on the radio telescope he was monitoring.

    Worked on my dissertation. Came in here last night to do some star gazing, replied Jenny, her back to him as she watched the image on the computer screen, the image as seen through the optical telescope.

    You missed your big chance.

    How’s that?

    You coulda spent the evening with me, said Fred, keeping his eyes on the screen.

    What? An evening of baseball and beer and popcorn?

    "Well, not all evening."

    In your dreams.

    Jeezis, look at this, exclaimed Fred Myers. The green trace bobbed up and down out of the noise hash on the bottom of the computer screen. Fred continued to make remote adjustments to the radio telescope positioning. Lemme see if I can strengthen this signal.

    Jenny Grant swiveled her chair away from the controls of the optical telescope to peer over Fred’s shoulder. They had detected strange signals before with the radio telescope; but with this particularly large signal, it was almost certain to be a satellite or even a terrestrial transmitter. The occasional strong signal detracted from their focus on examining the radio emissions of stars.

    Sure is a solid signal. She looked at the control settings and scowled. Gotta be a freaking satellite - signal that strong.

    How ‘bout you swing the optical to my coordinates. I have the position data on the slave RAM.

    Jenny turned back to her control panel. Okay. I’ll take a look.

    Her remote adjustments re-pointed the 14 inch Mead RCX 400 telescope to match the radio telescope orientation. The optical telescope was housed in the spherically roofed shelter just outside the control shack. The radio telescope was at the other end of the Science Building roof in a simple wooden shelter sufficient to provide protection from the elements.

    In a few minutes Jenny had the telescope aligned to Fred’s coordinates. The large computer screen showed a quarter of the Moon.

    Gotta be a satellite. I just can’t see it. I took it from the Moon down to Earth, but I don’t see anything. She ran through the adjustments again.

    Fred turned to look at the image on her screen. "Maybe it’s on the Moon, some kind of probe or something."

    You better give Professor Ron a call. See if he’s in his office.

    RON FREMONT TOOK a sip of his now cold coffee as the phone on his desk rang.

    Hello. Fremont.

    Professor Fremont?

    Yes. This is Ron Fremont

    I’m Ann Hoffman from the Lowell Banner.

    Science and Technology - I read your column.

    Thank you professor, I appreciate the endorsement. I’m calling to ask whether you would allow me an interview and, if possible, a tour of the Science Building.

    Why…What kind of article will you be writing? There was a slight hesitancy in his voice. He hadn’t given an interview in years.

    My editor suggested that a story about the observatory would have some local interest. Maybe a paragraph on the impact of the new equipment installed in the last couple of years.

    She sounded confident and cheerful. Ron found it refreshing. I’m a fan of your column. You research your material well. I’m sure the University and I would view your efforts favorably.

    What’s a good time, professor?

    I’m in the building usually from 9 a.m. ‘till about 6 o’clock. Sometimes I come back in the evening if I have something to do.

    Would today be a possibility?

    You have a deadline?

    Always. I’d like to get it published soon.

    I’m pretty busy today – got the darn 2007 budget to finish. But, I’ll be back in the building tonight before 9 o’clock. I don’t know what hours you keep. Later in the week, I should have some time in the morning.

    Oh, tonight would be perfect. Whatever time you like.

    Okay. Shall we say 9 p.m.? You know where my office is?

    I know where the building is. I’m sure I can find your office. I appreciate your time, Professor.

    See you then.

    He wasn’t sure what he had expected when the reporter knocked on his open office door, certainly not the lovely young lady with flowing auburn hair and infectious smile. She wore dark slacks, a tight fitting white blouse, and a cranberry colored jacket. His heart thumped. Was he staring? Flustered, he got up from his chair, and met her outstretched hand.

    Professor, I’m Ann Hoffman.

    Welcome. They shook hands and he moved a chair to the front of his desk. Not much room in this office. I’m a bit of a pack rat.

    I appreciate you’re taking the time for me. She settled into the chair, opened her large purse and retrieved her notebook and pen.

    He sat again behind his desk, and looked at her as she flipped through pages in her notebook. She had very little makeup, and no eye shadow hardened her features. When she looked up at him, he saw a quiet beauty. He realized that she was waiting for a response. He felt the heat under his collar.

    I’m sorry…

    A smile teased the corners of her mouth. "I’ve always been interested in cosmology – in astrophysics. I’ve got a shelf full of books on the formation of galaxies, black holes, and stars. I read your book a month ago, Gravity and the Universe. Admittedly, it was more than I was prepared for, but I got a lot out of it."

    I’m flattered. I wrote it as a text book for some of my lecture material.

    Ann leaned forward slightly and picked up her pen.

    God, she’s lovely. What, mid-twenties?

    So, Professor, maybe we can start by my asking a few questions, and then branch out from there?

    Please, just call me Ron. You’ll give me a swelled head otherwise.

    She smiled. Okay and I’m just Ann. Let’s start with exactly what you do at the University.

    I’m the head of the Physics Department, but I still do a lot of lectures. I have a handful of kids in a doctoral program as well.

    She looked up from her notebook. You’re awful young to be head of the Physics Department.

    He shrugged. I’ll be forty before long. No chance with her, not at forty.

    She looked down again, but didn’t comment.

    Ron introduced the science curriculum, giving Ann brief overviews of each study course. He described the laboratory facilities that supported each field of study. It was when he described the new course, Introduction to Astrophysics, that Ann became particularly attentive.

    We have a professor that visits us to teach this subject. He works at the Haystack Observatory. In the last several years we’ve partnered with industrial sponsors to be able to construct an optical observatory on the roof of this building, as well as a radio telescope.

    Is this something that I can see? Her voice was hopeful.

    Yes, sure. When he saw her pull a camera out of her purse, he cautioned, I can’t allow any photographs, sorry.

    She nodded, disappointed, and tucked the camera back into her purse.

    It’s just that any photographs have to be approved by the administration. It’s a hassle.

    She smiled, I understand, not a problem. Would you mind e-mailing me some file photos, it’d help a lot.

    Sure, be happy to.

    The roof of the science building is far from an ideal site for observations of the cosmos. The university has been working to minimize light pollution, but with the city lights and the level of humidity humidity, our optical capabilities are rather limited. Sometimes students get invited to a remote dark-site up in the hills of New Hampshire, sponsored by other clubs. Still, the facilities here are useful in demonstrating cosmological principles, and allowing students to explore on their own. I’m an adviser to the Astronomy Club at the University, but we have doctoral students that manage the optical and radio facilities.

    Ann looked up from her notebook. How big is this telescope?

    It is a fourteen inch reflector, a Mead RCX 400. It’s a state of the art design that gives us a sharp wide field of view. It’s popular with photographers using the latest imaging technology. If she’s got makeup on, it can’t be much. Beautiful skin.

    The Hubble Space Telescope, isn’t that a reflector type as well? asked Ann.

    Yep, Ron replied. It’s what they call a Ritchey-Chrétien design. We have a miniature version of it.

    I’m always looking at the NASA web site, at the extraordinary images that come from the Hubble.

    "What we have here is okay for teaching the principles of astrophysics. A doctoral student named Jenny Grant is the manager of the optical telescope. This telescope can be operated manually, but it is usually done by computer from the shack where we also control the radio telescope. A kid named Fred Myers manages the radio facility."

    Ann looked into Ron’s face. I’ve read about radio telescopes, but I’m not quite sure how they work.

    He tried to stay focused, but her voice and beauty distracted him. He caught himself fidgeting with his pencil. He put it down. Could she tell?

    We run the radio telescope independently of the optical one, but we can also synchronize them. The two facilities provide the student with two different windows from which to observe a target in space, whether a planet, a star, or whatever. He paused for a moment as she wrote. "Much can be learned from examining the cosmos through different portals. There are many radio windows, to say nothing of infrared, ultra violet and X-ray which are observed from satellite and space-based facilities."

    Again she gave him a smile that warmed him. How do I describe the radio telescope?

    Ron ran his fingers over his face. Think of it as two radios operating together. They’re tuned to two different frequencies. These are frequencies that coincide with the natural frequency of hydrogen atoms and methanol atoms, stuff that is plentiful in the cosmos; and also, Ron raised his eyebrows, the likely place where ET might be listening or transmitting, if indeed radio was something they were interested in.

    Ann stopped writing and looked at him. The silence was interrupted by Ron’s cell phone ringing.

    Excuse me. He flipped open the phone. He listened intently. Coming right up. I have a guest with me. He closed the phone and slipped it into his pocket. Standing up, he pulled his jacket from the coat rack.

    I have to go up to the roof. The kids need help. You’re welcome to come with me.

    Ann got up quickly. You bet. She grabbed her purse and stuffed the notebook into it. She glanced at him as they left the office. Is there something wrong?

    Don’t think so. Myers observed some anomaly on the radio telescope. We often see things that turn out to be signals from satellites or earth stations. We’ll take a look at this one and see what it is.

    At the end of the hallway, they entered a narrow staircase that led to the roof. On the roof, they went the few steps to the corrugated metal hut that held the control instruments. Before entering, Ron turned to Ann and winked. Hope they got their clothes on.

    Her mouth opened.

    Just kidding.

    She coughed and smiled.

    He reached for the door knob, turning to her for a moment. Appreciate it if you check with me before you put anything on the record.

    She gave him an odd look and then nodded. Okay.

    Farther out on the roof, he pointed, is a wooden shack that contains the radio telescope antenna array. I can show it to you later.

    That would be great. Then she quickly added, I won’t get in the way.

    Ron opened the door, entering a small vestibule designed to keep the weather out. Inside there was equipment arranged along both main walls.

    Ron pointed to the left. Here we have the optical telescope controls. This is Jenny Grant.

    Ann smiled as Jenny gave her a quick greeting, returning her eyes to the monitor screen. Ron turned to the other wall. This is the radio telescope control bay. Fred, this is Ann from the Lowell Banner." Fred gave her a quick smile and turned back to the controls.

    Ron stepped close to listen to Fred explain what he had observed.

    I made my initial observation at the second harmonic of the hydrogen line, at 21:33 hours. He pointed to the monitor screen. A large, old tape recorder was running, capturing the stream of unusual data.

    This is direct from the wideband array?

    "Uh-huh. I’ve been running a monitoring routine every chance I get that scans frequencies at second and third harmonics of hydrogen. This is the first time I ever saw this. It’s not random. Energy level is a good 4 dB above the background noise."

    Jenny, you looked at this on optical?

    Jenny turned around on her chair. I’ve got the same coordinates here.

    Ron turned toward Jenny’s monitor, which remotely displayed the view observed through the optical telescope. A section of the dark Moon-horizon covered the screen.

    I’m unable to distinguish any satellite in this sector. The signal keeps pace with the moon, like it’s coming from there. She looked up at Ron. She said, hesitantly, We don’t have stuff on the Moon, do we?

    I’m not aware of anything. It might be a probe sent up by Russia or China – maybe it crashed on the moon. Ron scratched his chin. "It could be a synchronous satellite, even if you can’t see it. They’re not all that big. Geo-stationary satellites are up around 25,000 miles. But why have one synchronous with the moon?"

    Yeah. More importantly, whose is it?

    Ron shrugged and leaned over Jenny’s shoulder. Don’t know, but that’s a good question.

    He turned back to Fred. Keep taping this as long as it’s there. Double check that we have the right date and time stamp. Take some samples onto a CD. In the meantime, I’m going to ask Dirk to come in and examine the content of this signal. If it’s a satellite, he should be able to figure it out.

    He touched Jenny’s shoulder. Download your stuff onto a CD with date and time.

    Jenny looked up at him. This is so strange. Such a strong signal. It has to be nearby, has to be a satellite.

    Ron grinned. Probably. Someone may have just sent up some spook satellite, and it might not yet be in proper orbit. We’ll keep an eye on it. When he turned to Fred he asked, What kind of signal is it? Any distinguishing features?

    Fred adjusted the receiver, looking at a signal spread on another computer screen. All I can say at this point is that the signal is extremely stable at twice hydrogen. The information seems to come in narrowband bursts. The carrier is only there when information is being sent. Then he added, "What I assume is information, but who the hell knows?"

    Ron turned to leave the hut. Okay, guys. This is fun stuff. We’ve seen similar things before. It’s always a mystery that we end up solving. I’ll give Dirk a call.

    Outside, Ron took out his cell phone. While it was ringing, he turned to Ann. Dirk Watson is one of my doctoral students.

    He looked away as his call was answered. "Ron here. Sorry to call you this late…We’ve got another anomaly here in the shack. Most likely a satellite, but it is pretty strange….I was hoping you could come in and look at the data. Uh-huh, it’s being recorded. Can you…Great, see you around 10:30."

    Ron slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to Ann. Let me show you the actual telescopes since we’re up here. Watch your step, there are cables running all over the roof.

    If you don’t mind, may I stay with you until this other fellow comes? This is wicked interesting.

    Sure. By the way, Fred is a physics doctoral student, but loves electronics and radio. He’s financed by his grandfather’s endowment, but chooses to live in an apartment in Lowell. Go figure. He hangs out with Dirk Watson, another of my doctoral students, when he’s not on campus. Dirk hosts the somewhat off-beat web site, the CyberGuardian.

    Sounds like it might be an anti-establishment thing.

    Uh, yes and no. A few of my doctoral students get together and delve into fringe stuff. Freedom of speech is highly regarded and any government measures infringing on it generally brings on a negative reaction. There’s a lot of links to science sites that are right on the edge, stuff that often hasn’t been published. They crusade against secretive government activities that go against ‘citizen’s right to know.’ You might want to check it out.

    Thanks, I will. What specifically does he rant against?

    He tends to cover a range of topics, covert activities against the citizenry is on top of the list.

    They stopped next to a domed building that contained the optical telescope. Tell me more about Dirk.

    "He’s a computer science whiz and the founder of CyberGuardian. His parents are very well off, so he doesn’t have to worry about actually making a living, and yet he lives in a trailer in Chelmsford. Ron chuckled. He lives right among his racks of computer stuff. Many of the geeks in the Physics Department hang out there."

    She grinned. "Your geeky students."

    Uh-huh. He looked at her and shrugged.

    Arriving at the domed telescope building, he turned toward her. Okay, now watch your footing going in here. The telescope is in operation. Jenny is controlling it from the shack. The inside temperature is the same as out here, so we don’t get any thermal stress in the equipment when we open the roof. It’ll be darker in there, so we’ll stand inside the door and let our eyes get adjusted.

    Ron opened the door and they went inside.

    Professor, I better hang onto your arm for a minute.

    A warm tingle went through him when she put her hand on his arm. He was glad that it was dark.

    The panels on the sliding roof were partially open, and the telescope pointed toward the Moon. It’s a good sized telescope, good for what we can do in this environment. Other clubs have larger ones at dark-sky sites.

    No one sits here to look through it? Ann asked.

    They can, but right now it’s configured for remote viewing on Jenny’s control panel. By the way, if you want to write about the equipment you see, that’s fine. I just ask that you keep all conversations we have off-the-record, at least for now.

    Could I get some pictures?

    Ron nodded, Let me check first. Give me a call in a day or so, but I’ll e-mail you what I have on file.

    Ann stood close to him in the dark looking up at the mechanics of the telescope. An occasional waft of perfume caught his attention. She was wearing a heart ring, the heart pointed away from her hand. Didn’t that mean she was unattached? He hoped that he would see her again. What was she, maybe late twenties?

    We can take a quick look at the radio telescope while we’re up here, if you want to.

    I’d love to, she said and bumped into him as they both moved toward the door.

    Here, I’ll get it. He reached around her to open the door latch. Her hair swept back in the breeze and brushed his face.

    He guided her to the opposite side of the building where a wooden shack had been constructed to protect the antenna from the weather. The entire side of the building could be opened to allow repairs and modifications. They entered through a small door.

    Wow, now this is different. She looked up at the large rectangular antenna array and horn antennas, all mounted on a central pedestal controlled by the computer in the hut. She looked at Ron and smiled.

    Okay, now just what am I looking at?

    He chuckled. "Doesn’t look like a telescope, now does it?"

    She shook her head. Not like any I’ve ever seen.

    This antenna can best be described as a large aperture, wideband phased-array. It can work on several radio frequencies, and has a large field of view. There are some horn antennas at the center for specific frequencies we look at from time to time.

    Ann rolled her eyes. Okay.

    Later on I can give you a sheet I printed up that has all the pertinent details, but for now, let me go through my professorial spiel.

    A grin lit up her face. Okay, she laughed.

    This is what is called a ten by ten logarithmic array, specifically designed for efficient reception at the hydrogen line, 1.419 GHz, and the second and third harmonics. We use liquid nitrogen cooled amplifiers at the antenna – to reduce internally generated noise. In the center are two high gain horn antennas for reception at 1.4 and 5.7 GHz.

    Ann shook her head. God, that hurt.

    Ron smiled. Her humor was infectious. It is all down on the sheet I’ll give you. That way you can include it in your column, and make the Science Department look good."

    I appreciate your spending this much time with me. I know you’re on your own time.

    You’re very welcome. We need to get back to my office; Dirk will be here any minute.

    Ron was offering more explanation of the radio telescope and Ann was jotting in her note book, when Dirk pushed open the door to Ron’s office, hitting the edge of Ann’s chair. Startled, Ann jumped up.

    Ann, this bull-in-the-china-shop is Dirk Watson. Dirk, Ann Hoffman of the Lowell Banner.

    Sorry, he stammered, moving back against the now closed door.

    Dirk, you need to go up to the shack and work with them. There’s a signal we got just now at the second hydrogen harmonic. It is a large signal at 4 dB above noise. Jenny has it coming from the edge of the Moon. Seems it could be a geo-stationary satellite in front of the Moon that we don’t have registered, or it could even be something someone lobbed up there. Who knows? Fred thinks that the signal contains components of intelligence. It might be a new spy satellite. Anyway, it’s 10:30, and if you could take a look and let me know what you think, I’d appreciate it. I’ll be here a while.

    Sounds intriguing. Got to be a spy sat, though. Dirk was smiling now. Check you later.

    In a second, he was gone. Ron looked at Ann. He’s a real genius. He just doesn’t know what he wants to be when he grows up.

    She gave him another smile that made his insides feel like they were melting.

    HE WASN’T WHAT she expected for a university professor. There wasn’t the portly stature, balding pate, and reading glasses perched on his nose. Ron was younger, and when he stood up, she appreciated the narrow waist and tight rear end. His full head of hair and youthful face also pleased her. His composure seemed relaxed. She wanted to get to know him.

    She looked at him, smiled and asked, I wonder if you would tell me a little about yourself. It would be great if I could include a short bio on you and a few lines on the students.

    He bit his lip as he thought over the request. He shrugged. Okay, we can talk about it, but some may be off the record.

    I’ll respect that. She turned to a clean page in her notebook and looked up at him expectantly.

    Okay, here goes, he started. I’m almost forty and a graduate of Cal Tech. I started my physics career at the Air Force Research Lab at Wright Paterson. He took a deep breath. After working there for a few years in the Materials Lab, I was transferred to Hanscom Air Force Base, out here. He emphasized his comment with air quotes.

    Ann looked up. How did you get into education?

    I felt I really wanted to teach and took education courses at night. I taught here at UMass Lowell and after a while this position opened up temporarily, but I’m still here. I have a nice apartment up the road in Tyngsborough, commute here in fifteen minutes.

    Ann continued jotting notes, and without looking up, asked, You’re married?

    We got divorced when I left the Air Force. She stayed in Ohio. Her folks are there and we don’t have any kids.

    I won’t use that.

    Ron smiled. How about you? Tell me about yourself

    Ann blushed, dropped her gaze and fidgeted with her pen. I grew up in Albany, my parents are still there. I’m an only child of twenty seven. I graduated from Boston University. My first real job was as a staff reporter at the Albany Bugle. She smiled and took a breath. I was always interested in science and took some evening courses in basic physics. When this position opened up at the Lowell Banner, I jumped on it. I found a small apartment here in Lowell that I could afford.

    So you prepare the weekly column?

    Uh-huh, gleaned mostly from what I find on the wire services and Internet. Beyond that, I go where they send me.

    I always find the column interesting, so it’s an honor to be the focus of this one.

    Thank you. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get fresh info for the column.

    The telephone rang and he raised his finger. Excuse me.

    Fremont.

    Hey Professor. It’s Fred. We’ve been watching the signal continuously. Amplitude varies some, but we’ve never lost it. The frequency is rock solid. I mean, it is synchronous with exactly twice the hydrogen line. This is really freaky. Gotta be a hydrogen-based signal source.

    Really? Why would anyone use that frequency? International protocol disallows that. What kind of modulation on the signal?

    Pulses of what looks like data are being sent intermittently. It’s a very narrow signal in what looks like a phase-coded modulation technique. We’re recording it; maybe we can make sense of it eventually.

    Fred, do you think if I borrowed a hydrogen maser, that you guys could use it as a decode reference?

    It’s definitely worth doing. Where can we get one?

    I have a friend at MIT. I’m pretty sure I can borrow one.

    That’d be great.

    What’s Jenny say? Is it still tracking the Moon?

    Yeah. Really weird. Here, talk to her yourself, said Fred.

    Hi. Your girlfriend’s pretty, teased Jenny.

    Aren’t you rushing things?

    She likes you. I can tell.

    Frankly, I’m more interested in the signal you guys are getting. I guess we better figure out what it is; otherwise you guys will be distracted from doing your coarse-work, the three star systems I gave you to study.

    I saw how she looks at you, she chuckled. Anyway, I was thinking maybe we ought to send the data over to Dirk’s place. That way club members and Dirk can examine it outside of University resources.

    That’s okay with me so long as we use a secure hookup. Ask Dirk about encoding it. He looked up at Ann, catching her eye. Let’s keep this discovery to ourselves until the source of the signal can be identified. We don’t want to look like bozos if this is just some ordinary satellite.

    We’ll do that. Are you leaving soon? She giggled, Going straight home?

    Uh-huh, leaving soon. You guys do what you can, then close it down. Ask Dirk to look at Air Force and NSA satellite listings, as well as ESA and Japanese sources. We can talk about it tomorrow.

    Okay. We’ll keep recording until the signal goes away. And, I’ll do another optical search in that sector. Uh, huh…she definitely likes you.

    Thanks.

    Ron hung up and turned to Ann. I’d appreciate it if you would keep that conversation off-the-record for the time being.

    How come?

    If this is a new discovery we need to be sure of our facts before we say anything.

    She nodded. Will I get first dibs when you let it loose?

    Yes. I promise.

    She smiled. I sense a story here. It may still be lurking in the shadows. Clandestine satellite? Something on the Moon? ET calling home? There’s something here.

    Remains to be seen. Could be an Earth based landing craft on the surface of the moon. It’d make more sense, to me anyway, than a satellite synchronous with the Moon.

    I get an exclusive, she smiled.

    He nodded, Yep.

    Ann had a few more questions about the overall science program, but as 11:30 neared, he turned the computer monitor off, and stood up.

    I’m gonna call it a day. I’ll walk you to your car. You in the lot?

    Uh-huh. Say, I’m going to stop at the Riverside Diner for a snack. Would you like to join me?

    Ron tried to act nonchalant, nodded his acceptance, Sure. Love to. He wondered if she could tell that his heart was racing.

    The Riverside Diner, an old stainless steel remnant of the ‘50s, was only minutes away, and nearing midnight, the place had few customers. Ann and Ron took a booth along the front windows, near where their cars were parked. The waitress came by with coffee.

    Menus? she asked.

    Ron looked at Ann. A blueberry muffin for me, please, she said.

    I’d like a cheeseburger, medium.

    Comin’ up. She turned in the order and brought place settings and water.

    Ann looked at her as she walked toward the kitchen. They don’t make them too cheerful this time of night.

    Ron nodded. It’s a tough living.

    Ann looked at Ron over her coffee cup. This has been a fascinating evening; staring out into space, listening to strange radio signals.

    Well, we don’t sit around like the SETI folks and listen for ET’s phone calls. These students have specific curriculum activities to accomplish. Right now they have to do radio mapping of certain stars as part of their work. Unidentified radio signals close to where we listen are disruptive, and we have to identify them. Of course, it is also an astronomy club, and in that sense, members can pursue esoteric activities when they wish.

    I’ve heard of SETI, read a little about it. I understand they are searching for optical as well as radio sources that might indicate intelligent life outside our solar system.

    Ron took a sip of coffee, and lowered the cup. There’s an infinite space to search out there. Except for one, non-repeated phenomenon, there hasn’t been any signal observed, and there’s a lot of doubt about that one.

    They discussed the strange signal for a while, thinking that it was most likely a new geo-stationary satellite, although the possibility of a Moon probe also had merit. Both wondered out loud of the extremely remote possibility of an ET signal, but Ron then dismissed it, as it was too strong of a signal to be coming from the far reaches of the cosmos. He promised that they would know more in a day or two, after they examined the nature of the information contained in the signal.

    Would it be alright if I called you in a day or so? Get a follow up?

    Ron smiled, Sure.

    The conversation turned to their lives, and Ron let Ann tug him along. She spoke of her quiet upbringing, the years in school, and of several romantic relationships that withered. Her voice, the beauty in her countenance, the silky luster of her auburn hair falling on her shoulders - he was smitten. He saw her as a sincere, even idealistic person interested in being a good reporter.

    Gradually her subtle coaxing engendered some bits of his story. But when she asked about his earlier work with the Air Force, he was hesitant to say much about it; only that as a physicist, he worked on the study of aerospace materials in the Materials Lab at Wright Patterson. His marriage had already been in trouble when he was forced to transfer to Hanscom, or lose his job with the Air Force. His wife refused to leave Ohio, and a year later they were divorced.

    She looked at him with curiosity. Even though older than her by over ten years, she was attracted to him and felt comfort in his gentle, sincere manner. He had treated her as a professional, and his acceptance of her presence in the events following the discovery of the strange radio signal, and his willingness to accept her word, was something that had made a distinct impression.

    CHAPTER 2

    Search of Sky Section

    IT WAS TWO nights after the initial observation, clear and cold with very low humidity, an ideal atmosphere to search the heavens. Jenny had rushed through her supper, fed her cat, and hurried back to the science building. The mystery of the strange signal was becoming an obsession with her. Astronomy had always been her passion. She had moved to Lowell from her parent’s home in Springfield to attend the University, and now at twenty five was pursuing a PhD in astrophysics. She concentrated on her studies and the astronomy club. She had only shrugged when her boyfriend had tired of her.

    She no sooner had taken her seat at the controls for the 14" telescope, than Fred arrived. Some small talk occurred, but then they were down to business. Fred focused on the radio controls, while Jenny turned her attention to the rising Moon. There had been only a few minutes of signal activity recorded each night. The strange signal was there again; not a steady signal, but one which came infrequently.

    A little after nine, Dirk and Ron joined them in the control hut. With not much room to turn around, they peered at the map depicting the sky section of interest. Dirk pointed out all the known satellites in the sector and their operating radio frequencies, and that there was no satellite operating in the observed sector. Fred’s azimuth scan over two nights picked up no signals at the frequencies of interest from terrestrial sources. They all agreed that the signal source was likely a satellite, possibly in an erroneous geo-stationary orbit, or a clandestine operation by any of several countries. Jenny concentrated her effort on the dark horizon of the Moon as it moved over the night sky.

    ANN PUSHED HER chair back from the computer. It was almost 9:30, too late to politely call anyone. She had thought of him during the day, distracting at times. The column was finished; could she ask him to look at it, see if there was anything to add? Was it so transparent? She wanted to see him again. She couldn’t deny the physical attraction. In her purse she found his business card. She smiled. His home phone number was there also.

    Ron? I’m sorry to call so late. I just finished my column…

    I just got home from MIT. I picked up the hydrogen maser I promised to get. Did you want me to look at it?

    Would you? I thought there might be some last minute additions… I don’t want to impose on your time, though. Would tomorrow be better?

    Well, I don’t think e-mail would be very productive. We’d have to discuss it. How about you buy me dessert at the Riverside Diner?

    Oh, that’d be great. I so much appreciate this. I’ll leave right now.

    Okay. See you there.

    He parked his SUV next to her gray Camry sedan. She smiled as he walked past the window. His heart beat faster.

    Ann looked up as he slid into the booth. I hope that I’m not taking you away from your quiet time. I just thought…

    It’s nice to see you again.

    Ann dropped her gaze, her cheeks reddened. Nice to see you, too.

    Coffee? It was the same waitress, the same tired look, the same underlying sadness.

    He smiled. Sure, and a slice of your lemon meringue pie.

    And you, Miss?

    I’ll just have a bite of his. She smiled at Ron, and then turned to the folder on the table, pulling out two sheets of typed text.

    There are still some things that I’d like to ask about, she said.

    Ron nodded, stealing glances at her face when she looked down at the pages. He went over the details of the optical and radio telescope again with her, elaborating on the computer control of the sky searches.

    The waitress returned with their coffee and pie. Ron laid the papers aside, took a sip and tasted the pie. Ann stabbed the corner of the pie to taste it.

    I could e-mail you a few file pictures of the Science Lab. There’s even one of the optical telescope.

    Ann beamed. I’d love that. She reached into her purse and removed a business card. I forgot to leave this with you the other day. E-mail’s on there for work and home. She felt his touch when their fingers momentarily met.

    He nodded, put the card in his shirt pocket.

    She looked at him, grinned, I think that does it. Thanks.

    I’m sure you’ll make us look good. A little press can’t hurt.

    He looked at her over his coffee cup as she bent over her papers. The softness of her face stirred him. With barely any makeup, her few freckles only added to her charm. Her silky hair, curved into soft curls, draped on her shoulder. The plain white blouse stretched tautly over her breasts, tugging at the buttons as she breathed. He pulled his gaze away as she finished reading.

    So what’s the latest thinking about that strange signal? Are you still hearing it?

    What we know so far is that we detect the signal only when the Moon is above the horizon. It is not a continuous signal, but comes in bursts lasting a few seconds to a minute. The signal is at the second harmonic of hydrogen, and has a very narrow line width.

    Line width?

    Ron smiled and nodded. It’s the bandwidth a signal takes up. This signal is extremely narrow, and is probably generated by something like a hydrogen maser. At least that’s how we would do it. The intelligence, or information if you’d rather, is imposed on the signal with some kind of phase modulation. Tomorrow we’ll set up the maser I borrowed and see if indeed phase modulation is being employed.

    But then what? Can you tell what the signal is saying?

    "Not likely. We won’t know the kind of encoding that is being used. What we will know is whether there is intelligence - information - on the signal, and maybe a clue as to who sent up the satellite."

    So you’re pretty sure it’s a satellite? You didn’t seem so sure the other day.

    He grinned. You were listening to all that?

    Every word. This is fascinating.

    He sipped and put the cup down slowly. "The highest probability is that it is a satellite, maybe in an incorrect high orbit. The next guess would be that either Russia or China or maybe Japan lobbed something up onto the Moon, and what we’re hearing is a data beacon. Hopefully Fred and Dirk will be able to tell us more once we get the maser set up."

    And what about ET? Is that not even on the list?

    Ron shrugged. I wouldn’t rule it out altogether, but damn unlikely.

    You don’t believe in ET?

    Ron didn’t answer for some seconds. Ann picked up her coffee cup and sipped.

    I have an open mind on that. It’s almost impossible to see how it could be, though.

    "Is there anything about that signal that would make you think that ET might be giving us a ring?"

    The slight smile on her face intrigued him. He felt her moving into his being and didn’t want to fight it. He wanted to tell her more, but couldn’t. It was too unbelievable, and too risky. The work he had done at the Air Force could not be mentioned.

    "It is a strange situation. The hydrogen frequency and harmonics aren’t used here on Earth or in satellites by international agreement because cosmologists study the universe using radio signals from gas plasmas of galaxies and stars."

    She looked up, listening, and took another bite of the pie. I read about those agreements somewhere…

    "Well, astronomers look at the cosmos at frequencies of various plasma sources to study the make-up of the stars. But, they always hope to hear something that would suggest intelligent life somewhere."

    That’s what you guys are hearing? she asked.

    Uh-huh. Finding a discernible signal sitting on the hydrogen line or a harmonic is an extremely unlikely event.

    How come no one else has heard it? Or have they?

    There may be others wondering what it is, just like we are. I can’t imagine that the government spooks aren’t looking at this, since I’m sure Haystack Observatory must have notified them. Dirk Watson, whom you met, and Jeremy Wilson, a friend of Dirk’s who works at Mitre, are absolute geniuses when it comes to understanding cryptographic encoding, computer software, getting into secret databases, and you name it. They’ll figure it out.

    Is this that CyberGuardian thing you mentioned the other day? I meant to ask you more about that.

    He grinned. The whole team, including Jenny, hangs out at Dirk’s place where he has a trailer full of equipment and where he publishes the on-line fringe news sheet. Dirk crusades against secretive government activities that infringe on citizen right to know. He and his team will be searching the Internet and trying to access commercial and government sites to find out if anyone else has been receiving this signal. I think in a couple days we’ll know what type of signal we’re receiving, and maybe where it comes from.

    Ann’s face lit up. You suppose I could interview them?

    Ron shook his head. Dirk is paranoid. It took darn near a year before I was invited to his trailer. There probably is some justification for him to be cautious. With his electronic talent and computer savvy, he can hack into places that would boggle your mind. Off the record.

    Yes, of course.

    He’s had difficulties in the past in pursuit of what he thought was the public right to know.

    Like the FBI?

    Uh-huh. He’s been questioned on several occasions about where he got some different pieces of information. Although he’s never been in real serious trouble with his investigations and what he puts in the CyberGuardian newsletter, he feels that he is being watched and monitored. He might be right about that.

    Ann looked at him, lips parted. I haven’t been to that web site, yet. I guess I should get familiar with it.

    The waitress dropped the check on the table. Ann picked it up, while Ron pulled a couple of singles from his wallet. I’ll do the tip.

    Ann smiled, picked up her folder of papers and purse, and they stepped to the cash register. Outside, they stood between their cars.

    I hope your editor likes your column. I think it’s a good piece.

    Ann smiled warmly. Thank you. I’ll look for pictures from you in my e-mail.

    Sure. I’ll send them tonight. You’ll have them in the morning.

    Would it be okay if I followed up with you on what happens with the strange signal? I know it’s all off the record; it’s just that I am really interested.

    Sure. That’d be fine. Why don’t I call you in the next couple days, let you know what’s up?

    I’d like that.

    Her smile warmed him to his toes. God, I feel like a teenager, he thought.

    FRED MYERS LED the group in assembling the additional equipment needed to work with the hydrogen maser. Their initial work, however, didn’t yield useful information. The interrupted nature of the signal made it necessary for them to implement additional components that finally allowed them to obtain the phase modulated data. Now, with many CD recordings of this new data, the team spent hour after hour in the control hut and at Dirk’s trailer trying to find the key to understanding the information. It eluded them.

    CHAPTER 3

    CyberGuardian

    RON DROVE INTO the back of the trailer park and stopped his SUV in front of a nondescript mobile home. Several other vehicles were parked nearby, likely the other students, he thought. Faint light came from the two front windows. He recalled that the converted mobile office building had few windows and those were well shielded to prevent eavesdropping, and

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