Earth.

A picture of Earth.

Just what is this message about?

We all stared at the very blurry image, trying to make sense of its appearance and the meaning of the message. That 30 seconds of audio just didn’t tell enough.

“What the hell are they trying to tell us?” Jake wondered aloud.

“I have no idea,” Christian replied. “If this is really a message from space, what are they trying to say? Why go through all of this effort? What does all of this mean?”

I quietly agreed. If someone was trying to send a message, they should be straight to the point. What’s with the hidden messages? Is it all a metaphor for something?

“They’re telling us something,” I jump in. “Think about it; ‘we wander the wilderness, trapped under a sunless sky, a crystalized sea.’ It’s all pretty metaphoric but they’re obviously trying to tell us where they are.”

“They also said something about ‘we could fly, so we set sail’,” Jake added. “Could that mean that wherever they’re coming from is doomed and they’re trying to get away?”

“I don’t think it’s where they’re coming from that’s doomed,” Christian added. “It sounds like they tried getting away from something but are now stranded. ‘Adrift in an empty sea’ they said.”

Jake chuckled for a minute. “So all this to tell us there’s a ship stranded in space somewhere?”

“‘This is the way to destiny’ followed by a picture of earth,” I add to the confusion. “So are they trying to come here?”

Christian thought for a moment before putting our thoughts together. “So, whoever sent this comes from another world running away from their own world and is trying to come here but got stranded on the way.”

We think about the running theory for a moment. This all sounded like a decent theory; definitely something out of a sci-fi show or book that I would have read in high school. But it all seemed off, wrong even. Why go through this much effort to send a distress call if you’re stranded in space? If you’re stranded and can’t provide an exact location, how could you hope for anyone to get to you in time? Space is big and crossing even the smallest astronomical scales will take a long time for any civilization.

I shake my head, rejecting the theory and relay this thought to the group.

“If you are an advanced enough species capable of interstellar flight, why send out such a message when no one could answer or help you in time?” I conclude my evaluation.

The other guys thought about it for a minute.

“Maybe as a last-ditch effort?” Jake suggested. “People do crazy things for survival, like that guy who cut off his arm when it got trapped in a rock.”

“That’s the difference,” Christian jumped in. “He had a proper chance of survival. Michael’s right; if you’re intelligent enough to be proficient at spaceflight, you would have to know no one else but your own people can help you if you’re lost. You might as well conserve your energy rather than making such a transmission.”

"True," Jake agreed while scratching his head. "But the message sounds like our voice when played and it sounds like it translates for the listener. That sounds like a desperate attempt to get someone, anyone, to listen."

“We still haven’t fully analyzed the Endeavor file,” I suggest. “We could only get some audio from it, but we’ve reached the conclusion that the audio and video data are all just artifacts; the data is meant to be read as one big format that we don’t have right now.”

“That’s the confusing thing,” Christian added while taking a slice of pizza. “It’s close to the right format, but not quite. Almost like someone with a more advanced data structure had to think ‘how do these guys encode data’ and got really close. Like they had to reverse engineer it.”

I took a slice of pizza as well and had a bite. “That’s another nail in the ‘stranded in space’ theory. If you have a completely different data structure, why would you waste so much time and effort to try and encode it in a way we can understand?”

Jake rubbed his chin, trying to formulate a conclusion. “What if they weren’t stranded in space, but trapped on their own planet? They have the time and ability to try and send such a message, but obviously not close enough. It would also explain why the signal was transmitted with such power.”

“That makes more sense,” Christian jumped in. “But only half so. This is all under the assumption that something in space sent a message trying to communicate with us. As fantastic and as awesome that would be, we don’t have enough proof that’s what’s going on.”

We all nod in agreement. Now is not the time to jump to conclusions. The signal only makes sense as a message from space because we’re putting that assumption on it. That does not make a hypothesis; it makes an ass out of you, like the luminiferous aether hypothesis from the 1800’s.

“That’s enough for one day, I think,” Christian concludes.

I nod and wash down the pizza with my drink. “Yeah, we’ve discovered a lot just today alone and there’s plenty of data to analyze. We need to rest and keep our heads clear. I hope you all have enough PTO.”

We all chuckle and put the computers to sleep. Christian spends some time trying to prepare some makeshift beds using his couch and anything else he can find. I decided to shower and brush my teeth while they sort all of that out.

Could it really be a message from some interstellar traveler? Or a civilization on another planet? What if the evidence starts pointing to that conclusion? Who do we talk to? We puny earthlings can barely talk to each other without pointing guns at each other; what happens if we actually talk to an alien race?

I can only hope that it’s not that. If anything, this gives me the drive to find as much evidence to say it’s not from space as possible; keep it on earth and the explanation will stay simple.

I finish washing up and see that Christian prepared a bed on the couch and another as a sleeping bag on the floor. I can see Jake getting ready to blow up that this is all Christian has to offer.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I’ll take the sleeping bag,” I volunteer. I was a Guardsman while going through college so sleeping on the floor is no problem for me.

“Yeah, that sounds about right for you,” Christian chuckled nervously.

“You always could sleep on a pile of rocks and think it’s comfortable,” Jake added as he took a spot on the couch.

It’s not long after we all settle in that I can feel the energy drink begin to wear off. I check my phone and it reads 02:00. I got up at 6 this morning with only 4 hours of sleep so it makes sense that an energy drink is just not enough.

Are we dreaming?

No, shut up. I don’t want to think about that damn signal anymore. I’ll think about it when I wake up. I close my eyes, trying to clear my head.

I try to envision a dream to put myself to sleep. I must have been playing too many games because a fun little dream greeted me. I could only imagine a single hero, a leader of some resistance in a dystopian world. He was handsome like all good resistance heroes and was standing in front of a chanting crowd.

“Can you see how this all ends?” he shouts to the raving audience. “Can’t you all see our destiny? We must stop this! This is the way to destiny!”

The crowd roars in agreement and gunfire fills the air as a fight breaks out between the ragtag resistance and a bunch of men in black suits.

I opened my eyes and noticed that sunlight was filling Christian’s living room as the dream started to fade. I look over and I don’t see Jake on the couch but I see Christian’s outline in the kitchen.

I throw on my glasses and look at my phone.

13:35

Yeah, of course I would sleep away half the day.

“Hey, you’re finally awake!” Christian called out from the kitchen.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I reply, getting the reference. I lift myself out of the sleeping bag. “Did you guys do any work while I was asleep?”

Christian pulled out a can of soda from the fridge and drank some before responding. “Not really. We tried looking at the data again, but it looks like that one video file just doesn’t have any more audio we can pull from it.”

“That’s good to know,” I reply. “Is there just no audio left on the file?”

Christian shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s just too distorted to get any real clear information from.”

I think back to the signal, trying to see if I can think about it in a clear head.

Wait a minute.

“Christian,” I call out. “Can I tell you a theory and promise not to laugh?”

He gave me a quick chuckle before answering. “Any other day I'd definitely laugh. But at this point, I’ll listen to anything.”

“I know we ruled out that it’s a message from space,” I begin as I walk towards the kitchen. “But what if it’s not a message for us?”

“What do you mean?” he asked while taking another drink of soda.

“What if we’re not the intended audience? What if it’s a transmission that we picked up accidentally?” I explained as I reached into the fridge to get myself a can of soda too. “What if it’s some propaganda message or manifesto that was transmitted to the people it was intended for and we just happened to pick it up?”

Christian rubbed his chin as he gave the theory some thought. “That would explain the vague metaphors; they could be idioms that we don’t understand.”

The front door popped open and Jake entered the house, his hands full with boxes of fried chicken. We take the chicken and put it on the kitchen counter to divide up between us as we shared this half-baked hypothesis with Jake.

“That would explain a lot really,” he concluded after hearing the explanation. “It would explain the whole ‘follow me into the breach’ message; maybe the guy who sent the message is telling his fellow people to rise up too.”

“This still follows the idea that it’s a message from space,” Christian concluded. “Maybe it didn’t come from space, but from some country on earth going through a civil war?”

“If there was, I’d like to hope that we’d hear about it by now,” I cut in. "Sure, the world isn’t a safe place but active war is mostly a thing of the past. It’s now mostly smaller countries caught in conflicts; none of them really able to send a signal like this."

“Then let’s put the government conspiracy card back in the deck,” Jake concluded while eating. “Honestly, the theory that the message is from space would fit better and be easier to explain than some big conspiracy or cover up.”

“Then let’s try that theory,” Christian jumped in while taking his box of chicken and walking over to his study with the computers. “It fits better than the others so we can at least work with that.”

“But then why a picture of earth?” I wonder aloud. “Why not their own planet? It’s clearly earth in that blurry photo; you could easily see Africa and where it matches up with South America.”

We all thought for a moment, unable to explain that one detail. Any theory we threw at the signal would always have that one bit stick out.

“It’s the only visual thing worth explaining,” Jake concluded. “We have a good portion of audio, but only that one frame of video besides creepy symbols. So maybe there’s more to the message that we haven’t found yet.”

An idea hits me suddenly. “Hold on. Maybe since we know the background of the signal, we’re unintentionally adding bias?”

Christian thought for a moment before he caught on. “So since I know I got it from a radio dish pointed at Polaris and you saw it keep your servers powered for a moment, we’re setting unrealistic expectations?

“Exactly!” I confirm with a firm clap of my hands. “What if we get someone to examine what we find from an external point of view? Unaware of the signal’s actual origins so they can provide a decent explanation.”

Jake thought about it as well before agreeing. “Yeah, a fresh pair of eyes unaware of the signal’s origins would be best. And if they’re in the dark as to the true nature of the signal, they won’t leak the information until we know what it is.”

“I have someone I can call,” I continue. “We went to mythology and linguistics classes together. She may be able to decipher the idioms and other randomness in the signal.”

“Shit, call her,” Christian said with newfound excitement and rushed to his computer. “We just might get to the bottom of this!”

I dig out my phone and look for the right person. Amelie Spencer, that’s the one. Haven’t spoken with her in years so hopefully she has time. I tap her name and the phone starts ringing.

The phone stops ringing and a woman’s voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hey Amelie, it’s Michael, I was wondering if you had a minute,” I answer, internally glad that all of my old contacts still work.

“Hey! It’s good to hear from you!” she replies in an excited tone. “What’s going on?”

“I’m working on a thing and I need some help,” I explain to her. “If I email you some stuff, would you be able to help us out?”

“Sure! What are you needing?” she replies with no hesitation.

I think of a good way to explain this to her. Sending her the raw files will do no one any good so I decided that I would send her text files of transcriptions. “We have a weird message and I was wondering if you would be able to look at the message and help us figure out what it all means.”

“Like a text message or email?” she asks for clarification.

“Eh, something like that,” I explain. Maybe I should have told her it’s a puzzle in a game or something and not a message. “I can email over the message if you can look at it when you get time.”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “Why not? I’ll text you my email; just let me know when you send it all over. I work late tonight so I won’t be able to get to it immediately.”

“Not a problem,” I answer, glad that she’s on board. “I’ll text you when I email it off; just let me know if you have any questions.”

We get off the phone and I go into the study with the other guys. We’re now four strong. Amelie may not be helping us directly decipher the data, but one thing we all know is that the more input and ideas the better; even the most outlandish ideas should still be considered. That’s the reason we can’t throw out the space hypothesis yet.

A part of me hopes that this isn’t for nothing, but if that’s the case, let’s hope we can actually figure this message out.