Voyagers I Read Free

through.”
    Thompson nodded and clicked a few switches on the console. Stoner heard a whirring screech that quickly rose in pitch until it soared beyond the range of human hearing. Then the low hissing, scratching electronic static of the steady sky background noise—the sound of endless billions of stars and clouds of interstellar gases all mingled together.
    He began to shake his head when it finally came through: a deep rumbling bass note, barely a whisper but unmistakably different from the background noise. Stoner nodded and Thompson turned a dial on the console ever so slightly.
    The heavy sound grew slightly louder, then faded away. In a split second it returned, then faded again. Stoner stood in the middle of the silenced hubbub of the busy room, listening to the pulses of energy throbbing in his ears like the deep, slow breathing of a slumbering giant.
    He closed his eyes and saw the giant—the planet Jupiter.
    The radio telescope was picking up pulses of radio energy streaming out from Jupiter. Pulses that were timed more precisely than a metronome, timed as accurately as the clicks of a quartz watch. Pulses that had no natural explanation.
    Slowly he pulled the heavy earphones off.
    “That’s it,” he said to Thompson over the bustle of the room.
    Thompson bobbed his head up and down. “That’s it.” He took the headset from Stoner and held it up to his ear. “Yep, that’s what it sounds like. Regular as clockwork.”
    “And nobody’s ever heard it before?”
    “No, nothing like it. Not from Jupiter or any other planet.” Thompson unplugged the earphones and tossed them back onto his desk, scattering papers in every direction. “It’s not on the same frequency as the pulsars, or the same periodicity. It’s something brand new.”
    Stoner scratched his thick, dark hair. “What do you think is causing it?”
    Grinning, Thompson answered, “That’s why we brought you here. You tell me.”
    With a slow nod, Stoner said, “You know what I think, Jeff.”
    “Intelligent life.”
    “Right.”
    Thompson puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “That’s a big one.”
    “Yeah.”
    He left Thompson standing there, lost in his own thoughts, and headed for the stairs that led up to his second-floor office. The same young student fell in step alongside him.
    “Dr. Stoner, can I speak with you for a minute?”
    He glanced at her. “Sure, Ms.…?”
    “Camerata. Jo Camerata.”
    He started up the steps without a second look at her. Jo dogged along behind him.
    “It’s about Professor McDermott,” she said.
    “Big Mac? What’s he want?”
    “I think it’s better if we talk in your office, with the door closed.”
    “Well, that’s where I’m heading.”
    “You were out there, weren’t you?” Jo asked, to his back. “You helped build Big Eye, out there in orbit.”
    They reached the top of the stairs and he turned around to take a good look at her. She was young, tall, with the classic kind of face you might find on a Greek vase. Black short-cropped hair curled thickly to frame her strong cheekbones and jawline. Her jeans clung to her full hips, her sweater accentuated her bosom.
    An astronaut groupie? Stoner asked himself as he replied, “Yes, I was part of the design and construction team for the orbital telescope. That’s why Big Mac invited me here, because I can sweet-talk my old buddies into sneaking some shots of Jupiter to us.”
    It was quieter up on the second floor, although the floor still hummed with electric vibrations. Stoner stalked down the narrow hallway, Jo trailing half a step behind him. He opened the door to the tiny office they had given him.
    Two men were inside: one by the window where Jo had been standing earlier; the other beside the door.
    “Dr. Keith Stoner?” asked the one by the window. He was the smaller of the two. Stoner’s desk, with the photographs of Jupiter scattered across it, stood between them.
    Stoner nodded. The man by the window was inches