Signals

Dark clouds blanketed the skies above the Mariner One Observatory. After three days, the telescope was down, and teams were out checking the dish array. As the sun finally pushed through the thick layer of gloomy weather, the Mariner One survey teams could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The worst tropical depression to hit the station was over.

Jim Hargrave stood in the command center, staring at the ocean like its master. All he could see before him was the open sea and the marvel of the tech he protected. Jim was happiest on the waters, and even the days of storms didn't dampen his enthusiasm.

Standing on the observation platform, Jim Hargrave peered through a telescope and watched the survey team checking out the south array. Grabbing a radio, Jim called to one of the survey team.

"Survey team one, how's it looking?"

Jim''s radio squawked a response. The survey team leader, an astronomer named Palo, replied.

"Everything's good here, boss. We'll be heading back soon," advised Palo.

"Good job guys," Jim commended them. "Beers are on me tonight."

Palo smiled. El' Heffe was buying, so he was drinking. He raised a fist, yelling it would be a good night for his team.

From the station, Jim Hargrave could see the excitement in the team on the water. He liked to keep the guys motivated. A night to celebrate their hard work felt deserved. They'd kept the dish array and the station operating at capacity, even during the category three storm.

More than anything, Palo and his team kept the eggheads at NASA off of Jim's back. Building an observatory in the middle of the South Pacific was a feat of engineering, but to Jim, it was a stupid idea. He took the job because of the pay, but it wasn't a secret that he was more at home when at sea.

"Boss," one of the techs called out. "You might want to take a look at this."

Jim turned to Carol, seeing a look of concern she wasn't known for. He walked over to her station and stared at her screen. Carol was tracking something. Without being on the science team, Jim could see it was setting off alarms.

"What is it?" asked Jim.

"A signal, but its origin is what's puzzling," explained Carol.

"It's another dammed FRB," sighed Jim.

After six months on the station and countless hours of monitoring, the Mariner One frequently detected FRB signals. Most were from transient events such as energized collisions between celestial bodies in space. Jim called that the "egghead" theory.

"Log it and move on. These things are so frequent now we could spend a lifetime chasing them," ordered Jim.

"Sure, boss," answered Carol. "I can do that."

"Good," smiled Jim. "And I expect to see you at the nest tonight. We've all earned some laughs."

Carol smiled at her boss. Scoring an invite to the nest was huge. The technicians never got to the boy's nights at the nest. There wasn't any room for the science team to mix with the roughnecks and soldiers. It was usually a testosterone-fueled frenzy of stories about war and old loves, occasionally broken up by a right cross.

Carol liked the boss, however. She'd been looking for a chance to get to know him better. His charm, his smile, and his commanding presence intrigued Carol. She felt a stir in her loins whenever he walked into the room in his blue combat trousers and uniform shirt.

A few hours later, The Nest was full of people laughing, drinking, and having a good time. The music blared from an old jukebox. The kitchen staff was hopping, serving up dinners and assorted bar foods. A wall-to-wall party atmosphere filled the below-sea cantina.

Palo and the boys were enjoying the drinks and the food. They'd been working non-stop for days, trying to stay ahead of the storm damage done to the dish array during intense weather. For Jim, there was a bonus to keeping the station going through bad weather, heat, attacks, and anything else he could imagine. With each bonus came one of these parties.

"Well," Jim smiled as he walked toward the men. "You did it again."

Palo worried he'd done something he shouldn't as he looked up at Jim. The entire table froze until Jim cracked a smile.

"You kept this place going!" Jim exclaimed. "You and your guys did everything I could have hoped for."

Breathing easier, Palo smiled, stood up, and shook Jim's hand. The two men were friendly, but as Jim thanked the entire team, Palo looked at him differently. Palo made trips to the command center and to Jim's office. He knew the man the rest of the team called Big Jim, and he had a trust level developing that the roughnecks were missing out on. Palo hoped his guys would get to see this from the station chief.

Palo thanked Jim for the praise and turned it all to his guys. The one thing that the two men shared was a belief that they didn't look good without good people backing them up. Jim had admitted to it being his belief when he took over the station.

As Jim and the boys reveled in their accomplishments, a voice over the radio crackled loudly.

"One from base," the caller repeated.

Jim replied and then excused himself. He waived off Palo's offer to come with him. Jim assured the guys everything would be alright and told them to enjoy. Tomorrow was coming, he liked to think. Jim wanted the guys to enjoy today.

As Jim walked from The Nest, hearing a pair of boots catching up to him, he stopped in the corridor and smiled. He knew it would happen. Palo caught him before he could get to the turbo lifts.

"Let me guess,' sighed Jim. "You felt like visiting the command deck?"

Palo smiled as the two men moved toward the lifts, Jim patting his friend on the back as he laughed to himself. With every problem he'd faced since coming aboard the station, Jim could always depend on Palo.

It took them minutes to get from 30 feet below sea level to the command deck. Jim went to the communications station. Standing there, Jim read something that was handed to him by the technician. He looked at the young African lady and asked if she'd confirmed the validity.

"Yes, sir," she stated. "Authentication codes were a match."

"Did they say why?"

"Negative," she answered. "Just to pull you from whatever you were doing and have you make contact."

"Good job, Shawnee."

As usual, his communications officer was nervously ahead of the game. Jim picked Shawnee for the assignment because of her language skills and travel. It took a while to get her up to speed on the technology aboard the Mariner One, but it had proven worth it. The only issue with Shawnee was Jim wanted her to feel more confident about her role.

"You should have stayed with the party," Jim told Palo.

"Is everything alright, boss?"

Jim showed him the orders. He was to attend a video conference with higher-ups from NASA, The NSA, Planetary Defense, and other agencies. It was nothing new, considering they were on the world's most expensive listening post.

"Jesus, boss. Do you think the president will be there?"

Jim laughed. He hoped not. After meeting the president, Jim was happy to be three thousand miles from D.C.

"Let's hope not," he told Palo, "The guy's an asshole."

Palo laughed as the two went to Jim's office. There was a bottle of top-shelf scotch awaiting the two friends. Palo poured as Jim checked his computer. While he stared down the line of emails that had come in, nearly two hundred in the past few hours, he sensed something was wrong. The string of messages was too active for it to be a randomly unscheduled meeting.

You look worried, thought Jim as he looked at the concerned face of his trusted subordinate.

"Everything will be fine."

"You're sure?" asked Palo.

"I'm sure," answered Jim. "But you can see for yourself, the meeting requires me and my number two to be present. That's you brother."

Palo couldn't contain the excitement of hearing he was moving up. He was a roughneck at heart and none of the stations he'd served on promoted roughnecks to that high a position. Looking at Jim, unable to contain the smile, he told his friend he better not be joking.

"No," laughed Jim. "You're the hardest working guy on this station. You definitely are the guy to be my number two."

"Thank you, boss. I promise..."

"Promise me you'll stop calling me boss. It's Jim, my friend. You've earned that too," Jim told him, his hand extended.

The two men shook hands before heading to the conference room. Whatever they were going to face, Jim felt a sense of relief knowing Palo would be there to back him up. After seeing the other members, Jim moved forward with the anxious trepidation of a first-year operator.

From across the world, Jim stared at a screen with Bill Jones's image. His was the only one, so far. Bill greeted Jim as he signed on, then asked about Palo.

"I wasn't aware you picked a number two," admitted Bill.

"It took me a lot longer than it should have, but he's trustworthy and has proven himself more than once."

"I trust you, so that's good enough for me," commented Bill. "Palo, welcome aboard. That's high praise you're getting. I'm glad you're out there with Jim and the Mariner One."

"Thank you, sir," replied Palo.

"Listen, guys, the reason I'm speaking to you before the rest of the group is there's been a development," explained the senior member of the JPL.

Bill switched the screen so they could see the information he was looking at. The monitor indicated a large explosion in space. The reaction let off more energy than one hundred million nuclear weapons.

"Imagine enough dynamite to blow our moon in half," explained Bill.

"Is this the source of the last FRB?" asked Jim.

It wasn't wasn't the source. The last Fast Radio Burst the station detected had come from another point. It came from a point much closer than the explosion Bill was briefing them on. As Jim looked at the data, turning to Palo and then back to the screen, he asked Bill to confirm he saw the numbers correctly.

The explosion was from months before the FRB Carol picked up. The explosion and the source of the FRB were of similar origins. As Bill explained the JPL theory, Jim stood up and looked at the data on the screen. It was clear to him what their concern was.

"You guys think that the event at .249420-1 is what pushed the origin of this signal from there to just beyond our outer rim," theorized Jim.

"You are pretty smart for an old sailor," said Bill, "but, yes.."

"Has anyone else seen this?" asked Palo.

Bill promised that the only people who knew were on the Mariner One or from the Taciter Observatory in New Mexico. That was the problem that worried Bill. He looked at the screen and somberly told them to listen.

"How many on your rig saw the last signal?"

"Just the two of us and a technician," Jim answered.

"Good," admitted Bill.

Bill asked if Jim remembered Mark Stevens from the Taciter. Dr. Stevens was the lead astrophysics man at Taciter. He also detected the signal and filed a report with NASA.

"So, that's following proper procedure for the observatories. Our funding is from the private sector. It leaves us outside of the chain of command. It gives us a little more discretion on how many bullshit reports we have to file," Jim reminded his old friend.

"Guys, keep it that way."

"Bill," sighed Jim. "What aren't you saying?"

The truth was that Dr. Stevens was dead. Bill didn't trust the timing, and the way the accident happened didn't make sense.

"Why would anyone have him taken out?" asked Jim.

"I don't know," admitted Bill. "But there is something about that last signal to hit the planet that has changed the tone of a lot of people."

Jim sat in his chair as Bill signed off. The meeting with the others would be mostly ceremonial for the Mariner One. The reason Bill summoned them was obviously because he was warning them to watch their backs. Who was coming after them was the mystery. The bigger question was why.

"Palo, alert security," instructed Jim. "Tell them to double the patrols and have communications and sonar start monitoring the perimeter to the two-mile range."

"Yes, sir," Palo replied.

Jim gave him one last instruction. Tell the security team to start carrying side arms and issue rifles to the gangway watch posts. Whatever was coming, Jim intended to defend the Mariner.