To Soar Amongst the Stars

Ok, so I'm revising a super old story (whose working title was A Temple for the Stars, but I'm switching things up and re-working-titling it). Here's some writing! (About 1500 words)


To Soar Amongst the Stars

CHAPTER ONE

   She checked the view through the telescope again, making minute adjustments to the instrument. She stood from her chair and stretched. She turned towards the door, paused, and rushed back to reset the exposure length on the camera.The photo capture process was automatic, but the system was new and Erica DeVry did not trust it to work. Yet she needed more sleep than she had been getting the past three months, and the automatic system seemed like the solution.
    Unable to think of anything else that needed her immediate attention in the observatory's main room, she retreated to her private office, a tiny room not much larger than a closet. It had a window whose view was mostly obscured by a large oak tree. The office was on the building's fourth floor, which meant a long climb up steep wooden stairs.
    Rika raised the gas light in her office. Her eyes briefly surveyed her home away from home. The door opened opposite the window in front of which sat a saw-horse-turned-table covered in large black and white and false color images of the night sky. Paperclips held extensive notes to each image. Radiographs overflowed boxes beneath the table. A thinly padded chair struggled not to drown in the sea of papers. A bookshelf on either side of the door took up the remaining space in the room. The left shelf was devoted to texts on astrophysics, mathematics, astronomy, and physics. The right shelf held mimeographs and journals covering the same topics.
    Ree breathed in the smell of books and papers and relaxed. She settled into her chair and began to once again try and understand the structure of the Milky Way, especially its crowded center.
    She flipped from radiographs to photographs and back, labeling and sorting as she went. Hours into the night, her mind worrying about the unfamiliar automatic photography process, she saw a set of radio waves that she had casually glanced at dozens of times before. This time, however, a pattern leaped out at her. She turned it around in her mind and began to figure an equation to describe the signal. She rubbed tired eyes and grinned at a silly thought: what if there was a code embedded in the signal? She began with binary as her base, assuming each part of the bi-level wave was a number. For the rest of the night she played with the complex recurrent signal.
    Finally dawn came and Ree blinked owlishly in the light. She turned the gas light down and trudged to the observation chamber to retrieve her negatives for the night. She collected a pile of 45 negatives, suspicious despite receiving the correct number. Hooking a timer to the photographic telescope was straightforward, but assuming nothing would go wrong was not Rika's style.
    Assuming the new method actually worked, the amount of time she had to spend on data collection would be more than halved. But Rika enjoyed the slow, lonely nights staring at the stars. Efficient as it might be, she would rather the automatic process not work.
    The next day, shortly after waking, she sent her film to be developed in the Academy's photographic lab. When it was ready late that evening she was nonplussed to discover that it had worked. This meant she no longer needed to be a night owl during the nights she drew dibs on the telescope. Her long hours to stare at the sky alone were largely gone. She nibbled on a stale roll while she walked from the dark room to her office, both on the Academy's main campus. She settled in at her desk and continued to calculate and correlate data. The longer she worked the more certain she became -- there was a binary code tucked away in the stars glowing fiercely at the center of the galaxy.
    The next evening she went excitedly to her adviser, a stern, no-nonsense woman with iron grey hair and a tendency to stare forbiddingly even when she approved of a student's work.
    "Dr. Snow," Ree began awkwardly, "I think I've found something worth publishing."
    "I don't have time for dithering," Abigail Snow replied with her usual abruptness. "Out with it. What mighty discovery have you made in your first three months of observations?"
    "I found a signal. From outer space," Rika answered.
    "A signal? Saying what?" Dr. Snow asked, repressing a rare smile.
    Rika's lips tightened. "I found a signal coming from the center of the galaxy. It's a binary code. I think that if I could get a cleaner version I could begin deciphering it," she said, trying to ignore her adviser's jocular attitude.
    "You're serious?" Dr. Snow asked, faint smile melting away.
    "Of course!" Rika replied, offended. She was almost always serious.
    "What evidence do you have?" Dr. Snow asked.
    Rika reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. She fanned them out before her adviser and began her argument. An hour later, Dr. Snow leaned back in her chair and pursed her lips in thought.
    "If you portray this as an alien intelligence, it may be the case that no respectable journal will accept your paper. Now, you could get around that by publishing a mimeograph, which you might -- I repeat, might -- be able to find private funding for. Or, you could portray your find as a curious anomaly that needs further investigation and leave the conspiracy theorizing to others. I suggest the curious anomaly path, though I know its indirectness does not appeal to you. However, it has the advantage of not destroying your reputation, which is especially wise as you have no previously published work to reassure the scientific community of your reliability," Dr. Snow said.
    Rika frowned. "But this is clearly a signal sent by someone, and it can't be human in origin! It has to be alien!" she protested.
    "Maybe," Dr. Snow allowed, "But other people will think of other explanations. No need to openly prejudice yourself about your own work. And Ms. DeVry, try not to ignore evidence pointing to other explanations," Dr. Snow cautioned.
    Rika frowned haughtily. "Of course not. That's one of the main principles behind a well researched project," she sniffed.
    Dr. Snow frowned back. "Then remember to follow it."
    Rika's hauteur faded from her face, leaving a faint frown behind. Few spoke to her with such bluntness, and Rika did not appreciate the rare opportunity to hear someone's honest opinion. She had little use for opinions other than her own, feeling that other's slower intellects too often came to erroneous conclusions. Dr. Snow was a highly respected academic, and Rika had personal experience with her keen mind. It was difficult to dismiss Snow's assessment, but Rika's boundless self assurance was up to the task.
    "Of course, Dr. Snow," Ree replied, faint frown still in place. "My essential question remains unanswered, though."
    "You never asked a proper question," Dr. Snow replied sharply. "Be more clear, girl."
    Ree's frown deepened. She loathed encounters with her adamantine adviser. "Will you support my further research of this 'anomaly'?"
    "Save it for later, girl. You'll have plenty of time after you receive your PhD to dabble with your own pet projects. For now, go back to approximating the shape of our galaxy. It's why I selected you as my student, after all."
    "But this is important!" Rika exclaimed, outraged. "I need time, I need resources, I may even need new equipment..."
    "Ms. DeVry, I should not have to say this twice. No, you will not work on this on Academy time or using Academy money. I shouldn't have to listen to you whine like a child," Dr. Snow growled.
    Rika fought back several sharp retorts, ultimately deciding that silence was the best response. She began to gather her things together.
    "No need to act like a spoiled brat that can't get her way," Dr. Snow chided. "You'll have plenty of time to figure out this puzzle later."
    "Later? Later!? What if it's only a brief occurrance? What if I'm missing out on further data right now? What if, in the three or four years that my Master's will take, this signal is gone forever? Later isn't any good. I need to pursue this now if ever," Rika replied.
    Dr. Snow continued to frown. Rika turned away, furious, and left the office. She struck tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand as she pelted down the rickety wooden steps of the Physical Sciences building.
    She would figure this signal out, she decided. She'd put in longer hours and focus more to complete both projects. She could do it, she was certain. The first step was to gather as much information as she could with her current limited resources and publish a mimeograph (that suggestion of Dr. Snow's had merit, even if few of the woman's other ideas did) and then search for funding. Perhaps she could run two projects at once? She was young, and she was fairly sure her body could take the strain.
    She stopped midthought when she noticed a squirrel inches from her foot. She squeaked, the squirrel jumped, and both experienced a sudden adrenaline rush. Time to get inside, she decided. The outside world was for observing, but not much use for living in.