“Ten minutes.”

“It has to be more than that.”

“Ten minutes, and then the FBI shows up,” said Rich Christiansen. He opened the Buick’s glove compartment and grabbed two billfolds. 

“No way,” said Samuel Idestam with a shake of his head. He took the billfold Christiansen offered him. Opening it, he scanned over the ID card inside. Idestam snapped it shut and slid it into his coat pocket. “Why do I have to be ‘Jefferson’ again?”

“Because you were Jefferson last time, kiddo. Helps you remember your alias, build a character, not get us caught out, that sort of thing.”

Idestam checked his wristwatch. “Fine, ten minutes. Starting now.” 

“Starting two minutes ago,” said Christiansen as he opened his door and stepped out. Idestam followed his senior as they stepped behind the car. Christiansen popped open the trunk, grabbed the single, black briefcase inside, and slammed the trunk shut. “Let’s go.”

Wind kicked through the parking garage. Debris scattered and danced in the cold air around the men while they walked to an elevator. Few other cars sat on the gray concrete. Yellow lights harshly glared down on the pair.

Idestam eyed a nearby car as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “Is that a Rolls Royce?”

“Who cares?” Christiansen stepped into the elevator without giving the car a look.

Idestam joined him. “Ground floor, right?”

“Ground floor.” 

Idestam keyed the elevator. “I think that was a Rolls Royce. I never figured scientists would make that much.”

“Maybe he’s a Russian spy,” Christiansen muttered. 

Idestam scoffed. “It’s been decades since the Soviet Union. I doubt they can even leave Europe right now, let alone come to the West Coast.”

Christiansen shrugged. “It made things a lot more interesting back when they could.”

The elevator gave a soft ring and slid to a stop. Stepping out, a harsher, quicker wind welcomed the men. This time, it nipped through their dress clothes and bit at anything exposed. The cold of night punished them as they left the relative cover of the parking garage. Above the men, city lights drowned out any possibility of a night sky. 

“Four minutes,” warned Christiansen.

“We didn’t put money on it.”

“We should have,” Christiansen said. A short walk across the street brought them to the brick and glass walls of the Lush River Research Center. A small bronze statue of a space shuttle stood proudly next to the double doors. The entryway welcomed them in with a warm gust of air from vents above the door as they walked inside. A short man waiting by an empty receptionist desk clapped and walked up towards them. A nametag clipped to his tweed sweater vest said ‘Doctor R. Swan.’

“Gentlemen, good to see you’ve made it. Right this way, please,” Dr. Swan motioned to an elevator bank set in the wall beyond the reception area. “I must admit, I’m surprised to hear the Federal Bureau of Investigation has an interest in our findings.”

Christiansen smiled and pulled his billfold out of his jacket. His New England accent slurred into a perfect, Deep South tone of voice without warning.“Actually, Doctor, we’re with the United States Postal Service.” He flashed the badge tucked within the billfold. “Security and Insurance Division. I’m Agent Jensen and this is Agent Jefferson.”

Dr. Swan furrowed his brow and cocked his head to one side. “Oh. Um, okay then. What would the post office do with a radio telescope’s research, if I may ask?”

“Well…” Christiansen put away the billfold and tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. “The broadcast affected a few of our parcel planes’ navigation systems. We just want to be able to troubleshoot this. We take great pride in being able to ship the mail without any problems. Neither snow nor rain, you know.”

Dr. Swan chuckled and shifted on one foot. “Ah, yes. Of course. I’m so sorry to hear that. I didn’t think the signal was that strong. But, that just goes to show what a momentous discovery thi--”

Idestam interrupted. “Do you have the data of the signal here? Telemetry, recordings, anything else that may help us… fix things?”

“No, not here, actually. I tried to explain to the federal agent who called, but she was very excited and merely wanted to meet. It’s all still at the actual telescope. Dr. Calvin is there now. He’s a bit eccentric, but given the news we’re all happy to burn the midnight oil. He left me some rough notes we can go over.”

“No, that’s all right. What’s the address? We’ll go and speak with him.”

Dr. Swan firmed his jaw, glowered, and stalked around to the back of the reception desk. Taking a post-it note, he scribbled down the address and handed it across to the men. Christiansen took it and nodded. 

“Just follow the freeway, and take the third right after the Slick-n-Pick station. It’s a bit of a long road. I always say that right when you feel like you’ve gone up the wrong road, you’ll see the facility. But of course, no one listens to what the museum director says. The one time I allow some after-hours exploration and suddenly the entire Stars and Stripes wants to talk to our resident retiree…” Dr. Swan’s voice trailed off.

“Thank you, really,” said Christiansen. 

Idestam checked over his shoulder. Outside, two figures in black suits crossed the windy street. He leaned over the desk and stuck out his hand to Dr. Swan. “Yes, thank you for your help. We’ll be going.”

Christiansen looked at Idestam for a moment before turning around. Idestam followed him outside. Neither man acknowledged the official-looking pair who tramped past them towards. The newcomers walked with an air of confidence. Their shoes clipped and echoed on the pavement. 

Once past them, Christiansen spoke in a hushed tone. “Told you. Ten minutes.”

“How’d you figure?”

“Been on the job long enough. Every once and a while, some government drone will get overly invested into being a nuisance. It goes on for a little while until their bosses notice the waste of resources or they fall from a tall building. And, we have a man in almost every branch of the FBI. Got a call that their flight was landing just ten minutes after ours.”

“That’s cheating,” protested Idestam as they got in the parking garage elevator. 

“Is not. Besides, that was the same call that gave us the job.”

“Still cheating.”

“Why’d you shake that man’s hand?”

Idestam shrugged. The elevator opened to reveal one more car in the parking garage. He produced the key to the rental car from his pocket. “Just being friendly. He’d remember us more if we were rude.”

“No, he’ll remember you if you are anything. Friendliness is just as memorable as hostility. The point is to be neutral, monotone, baseline. Nothing he can easily recall if asked.”

“He’ll remember us if we speak like robots,” said Idestam.

“Get in the damn car.”

The drive to the telescope proved uneventful. Leaving the city and journeying into the flatlands outside, light waned around them and a soft night sky appeared. Glimmering pinpoints of white sparkled above them. An occasional car broke the monotony of the open road. The headlights flew towards them as two beams before whipping by and disappearing. 

Idestam looked over after a few minutes of silence. “So, what’s the plan? Spill a cup of coffee on the keyboard when we get there or something?”

“Some sort of accident, I suppose,” said Christiansen. “We’ll make polite conversation, you distract whoever is there, and I’ll just see what needs to be done with their discovery.”

“Do we need to get a recording of it?” Asked Idestam.

“We weren’t asked to. I’m going to assume the Office has what it needs already and we’re just on clean up.” 

“But this is definitely a burst?”

Christiansen shrugged. “Potentially. When I took the call, they couldn’t say. But, I’ve seen bursts play out like this before. Something somewhere gets through the fence and plays in our yard for a bit.” 

“What’s the worst one you’ve seen?”

“Dayton, Texas. A good many years back. The Office fucked that one up pretty bad.”

“I think I heard about tha--”

Christiansen pointed over the dashboard. “There’s that gas station. Slick-n-Pick.”

“Yeah, I see it. Only thing around for miles.” Idestam turned the car. The gas station’s neon sign stuck out amongst the dark landscape of trees and lone houses. “No one died at Dayton, though, right? Couldn’t be that bad.”

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“No, but it got plenty of attention. That’s almost worse. A body is in the news for a week. A court case is a journalist’s paycheck for at least half a year.”

“At least there weren’t any deaths.”

“Could have been.” Christiansen shrugged again. “I worked with Artemis on it. Told him and his partner it would have been easier to just off the three witnesses, but he got all moral about it. He had a point, there being a kid and all, but… the forest for the trees.”

Idestam shot raised eyebrows at Christiansen. “Jesus. Is it really that common? Killing anyone in our way?”

Christiansen sneered slightly and stared through his door’s window. “No, but sometimes I think I’m the only one who takes the job seriously. There are times we can’t bribe, trick, or discredit someone. If a burst slips a miracle cure into the mind of a nun, you think we can blackmail her to stay quiet? No, she’s going to think the Big Guy came down and gave it to her personally. People like that often pass away in their sleep. Protecting the American people from the Signal is more important than one person’s livelihood, or life.”

“Even for a ‘miracle cure’? What if it was for cancer?” asked Idestam.

Christiansen reached into his coat and pulled a small cardboard packet out. “Gum?” He held it up to Idestam.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Idestam frowned.

Christiansen produced a silvery tab and tucked the packet away. He cocked his head to one side while unwrapping the gum. “Can’t trust the bursts. Anytime the Signal cuts through into our reality, we don’t know why. Sure, maybe for some reason the cure to cancer gets dropped into Sister Mary’s noggin. Purely at random, she gets the cure and the Catholic Church gets to go on healing people and remaining relevant for at least another century. But, what if the Signal is malignant? Hostile? Her drug or therapy cures the cancer, but in exchange you lose free will or something. Can’t trust the Signal’s bursts.”

“It’s been so long and we still can’t figure out what they are?” asked Idestam.

Christiansen smacked his lips a few times as he started on the gum. “Kid, just what is it they taught you during orientation?”

“It was drinking from a fire hose, to be honest. But that’s why I’m training under you, right?”

“Training is one word for it. You think we missed a turn back there?”

A tall, concrete building appeared on the dark horizon. A wooden signboard next to the parking lot entrance welcomed them to the ‘Lush River Radio Telescope Experience’. As Idestam slowed down and entered, he noticed only one other car parked there. Beyond it, the lit windows cast a yellow glow on the parking lot. 

“All right. We probably have more time here. There’s no telling if the feds will want to come out here late at night.” Christiansen scanned the building with his eyes before exiting the rental car. 

“Yeah, working this late would be crazy,” said Idestam as he followed the senior agent up the path to the front door. 

“Easy, kiddo,” warned Christiansen. He approached the front door and pulled a handkerchief out. Using it, he tried to open the door. It creaked and revealed a softly-lit interior. The doorway opened up to a small lobby with a coat rack and a card table with brochures on it. A few chairs lined the wall opposite of the table. A placard on the wall announced the place’s hours of operation. It should have been closed hours ago. Christiansen took a small step inside and looked around the interior. His head slowly swiveled left and right. “Okay, no cameras. So far, so good. Wood veneer walls, also good. We may need to burn the place down.”

“Okay, that’s plan B. Let me take point on this one.”

“No, you had the last job. Just follow my lead. Training, right?”

“Right.” Idestam rolled his eyes. “Training.”

Christiansen walked past the table. He ignored a little bell set on it with a ‘Ring for Service’ placard. The door beyond the table proved to be unlocked, and he swung it open with ease. Christiansen poked his head through and called out “Hello?”

From inside, Idestam heard a startled “Hello? Who’s there? Agent Kaunis?”

Christiansen smiled at Idestam and waved to him, before entering the room himself. He whipped out his billfold and let it fall open. Light glinted off the badge inside. Christiansen’s voice morphed again into a southern drawl. Vowels stretched in each word as he took up a twang accent. “Ah. No, sir. Postal Inspection Service. We were told you got a radar ping of some kind?”

The room circled around itself. A walkway around the outer wall passed by numerous computers and desks. In the center, a small metal walkway rose up to a platform. An older man with a cheap, ill-fitting toupee stood on the platform in front of a computer desk. “Radio broadcast, gentlemen. I apologize for not meeting you at the door. I wasn’t aware that the… post office would take interest.” He started to descend the stairs, but Christiansen raised a hand.

The agents closed the distance between them and the stairs. Christian braced himself on the railings installed on either side of the stairs. “That’s all right, sir. It’s just your little radio play up there,” Christiansen waved a hand towards the computer behind the scientist. “It’s got our planes and helicopters grounded and making a terrible mess of their electronics.”

“Oh, that’s just a play-by-play. The full thing is being recorded on the computers over there,” the scientist nodded his head towards a bank of computer screens. 

Christiansen followed the man’s motion with raised eyebrows. “Really? That right there is what’s causing all our trouble? What is the thing behind you, then?” He asked with a voice of piqued curiosity. He began to ascend the stairs towards the scientist. The man excitedly welcomed Christiansen up and beckoned him to approach the monitor. 

“Think of it like a window to peer in on whatever signal we’re seeing. Or listening to, rather. I asked them to set the place up like this when we first built the array and the administration got rid of the actual telescope we had here. Makes me feel a bit like the philosophers in the days of old, you know? Watching the stars. Listening, in this case.”

Idestam stood at the foot of the stairway as Christiansen made a point of fawning over the computer screen. Idestam’s hand flew to his holster when the scientist picked up a black object from the table. It was a pair of headphones. He carefully relaxed and hid the weapon holster inside his jacket again. Checking the ceiling, Idestam realized there were no cameras in the observatory anywhere. Part of him felt lucky, but a cold pit began to form in Idestam’s stomach. He kept an eye on the scientist.

“Here, try this on. You can hear what it sounds like through these,” the scientist leaned forward and tried to slide the headphones onto Christiansen. Christiansen ducked back and pushed the headset away. 

“Thank you, Doctor…” Christiansen checked the nametag on the scientist’s jacket. “...Calvin. But I don’t need to do that. So this computer here isn’t recording the broadcast?”

“No, just that one down there. It actually has one of those new CD-ROMs that we can use to save it. I plan to burn several copies for when we arrange a press conference.”

“You haven’t told the news yet?”

Dr. Calvin shook his head. His fingers drummed on the headset slowly. “No, I want the full thing to be ready. There’s no telling how much is left. I called Agent Kaunis after the first transmission, since she’s taken an interest in my past work. But, then it restarted. And it’s all different from the first part. I’m letting it complete before I make any more phone calls. I didn’t think to really call anyone else. Not even the… post office. I apologize.”

“Please, Doctor, we’re happy being the unsung heroes. Well, it’s recording right now.” Christiansen clapped his hands and examined his surroundings. “Down there. And surely you must have written down the coordinates or frequency or what have you?”

“Ah, again, all on the computer. I did write out a brief description of it for my colleagues but everything else is electronic.” Dr. Calvin nodded reassuringly. He glanced between Idestam and Christiansen. 

“Description?” Christiansen slowed his syllables in a questioning tone. He mirrored the doctor’s head nods and shakes while maintaining perfect eye contact.

“Just what the machines told us at first. I’ve never seen a Fourier decomposition quite like this. At this point, it’s all conjecture,” shrugged Dr. Calvin. “I believe there were few patterns in it, and I could not help but hypothesize. This could be a new chapter in history aft--”

“I take it you listened to this thing?” Christiansen interrupted. The faux southern drawl dried out of his words and betrayed a cold, monotone clip. His native Yankee accent didn’t return immediately. 

“It was beautiful. Like a chorus of ang--”

“You listened to it,” nodded Christiansen.

“It’s the first broadcast from out there,” protested Dr. Calvin. “I had to know.”

“Well, it’s fortunate you’re up here,” said Christiansen. The senior agent checked around himself and wiped his palms on the sides of his jacket.

“Anyone would be fortunate enough to hear it. And soon, we can share it with the whole world. You yourselves are fortunate to be here.” The scientist smiled at the men. 

Christiansen’s arm shot up and grabbed the man by the back of the neck. “Yeah, saves the poison we’d normally use, I guess.” Without another word, the senior agent tripped the man with one foot over his leg. He followed through and hurled the researcher over the top of the railing. Idestam flinched as the old man gave a short cry and hit the floor below them. A dark puddle spattered out from underneath Dr. Calvin upon impact.

Idestam slowly turned from the murder scene before him to Christiansen. He turned his palms outwards as he glared at the senior agent. “Goddamnit, he was innocent.”

“No, he wasn’t. You heard him: ‘Entire world will hear’ and bullshit. Can’t have that.”

“I mean… Can’t we call the Office and ask for, I dunno, blackmail or something?”

Christiansen shook his head. “A scientist like that doesn’t go quietly. Blackmail wouldn’t work. Besides, an old man working late in unsafe conditions like this? Accidents happen.”

“There’s a safety rail.” Idestam pointed two fingers at the steel pipe on the edge of the walkway.

“Yeah, that’s why I put my whole body into it. It’s a fluid motion, kid. The trick is to use your foot as an anchor and then push your hip to--”

“No, that’s not-- what the hell?”

“We’ll deal with this later. Those agents are bound to show up at any point. Help me find the computer.”

Idestam looked back down. The scientist weakly twisted in place. His face slowly formed a tortured expression. Words formed on the man’s lips without sound. 

“Kid, come on.” Christiansen walked back down the stairs towards the computer banks. Idestam followed him after one more glance down to Dr. Calvin. The computers whirred and hummed. Lights danced on and off on various panels. Christiansen stopped at a blinking computer screen. A message on it announced the progress of a recording. 

“This looks like it.” Christiansen cracked his knuckles and began typing. “Give me a second. Watch the door.”

“Yeah, sure,” muttered Idestam. He kept an eye on the door for a moment, before giving a side eye to the body on the floor. The scientist shifted uncomfortably in his own blood. The man still said nothing and stared at the ceiling. “So, two FBI agents are going to come here and find a dead man and no recording.”

“And no coordinates,” said Christiansen. He remained hunched 

over the computer while talking. It beeped and chirped in response to the commands the agent gave it. “They’ll find nothing of use.”

“Except a dead man,” repeated Idestam. 

“That’s not enough for the Bureau to open an investigation. It’d have to start locally. These two aren’t on an official case, anyway. Our man in their office said the expense report came through without a case file or justification.”

“I wonder how they’ll get away with that,” said Idestam. 

“Who knows? Friends in high places. Others with eccentric interests. Office politics is a boon and a bane. There we go,” Christiansen stood up. Taking a cloth from his jacket, he wiped down the keyboard. “No recording. No more logs of where the telescope’s been pointing for the past few weeks. And, it’s now going to point elsewhere.” He looked at Idestam and stuck a thumb to a small door in the wall. A neon exit sign cast red hues over its metal frames. “Let’s get going.”

Idestam followed behind Christiansen, mute. The transition from artificial light inside to darkness outside came almost as a relief. Idestam took a deep breath of the crisp night air while they trudged to the car. Still only one other car sat in the parking lot. The buzzing fluorescent light pole on the parking lot’s edge forced the car to cast a long shadow. Idestam could almost make out a bumper sticker on the compact car. My Child is an Honor Student at… He looked away.

“Keys. I’ll drive,” Christiansen said, with a hand outstretched. Idestam fished the rental keys out of his pocket and handed them over. He stared at the entrance of the building. Even as he opened the car door and sat inside, Idestam stared. Part of him wished the scientist, Dr. Calvin, would come walking outside. He knew the doctor wouldn’t be walking any time soon, if at all. 

“Where to now?” Idestam asked quietly as they pulled out of the lot.

“I saw a frozen yogurt place on our way into town earlier. Come on, kid. We’ll get some, call the Office, and then find a place to sleep tonight.”

Idestam nodded. He turned to watch the outside world scrawl past as they drove. The stars dimly blinked from their places in the night sky. An occasional tree eclipsed his view for a moment. No sound came from outside. Idestam’s ears filled with the hum of car tires on the earth below him.