The Question

The Radio Astronomer

At least the military was operating efficiently, Brian Martinson thought as he winged at supersonic speed high above the Atlantic. An Air Force sedan had been waiting for him in front of the NSF headquarters; its sergeant driver whisked him quickly through the downtown Washington traffic and out to Andrews Air Force Base, where a sleek swept-wing, twin-jet VIP plane was waiting to fly him to Puerto Rico.

Looking idly through the small window at his side, his mind filled with conflicting ideas about the aliens and The Question, Martinson realized that he could actually see the Gulf Stream slicing through the colder Atlantic waters, a bright blue ribbon of warmth and life against the steely gray of the ocean.

Looking out to the flat horizon he could make out the ghost of a quarter Moon hanging in the bright sky. Somewhere beyond the Moon, far, far beyond it, the aliens in their spacecraft were already on their way out of the Solar System.

What do they want of us? Martinson wondered. Why did they bother to make contact with us at all, if all they’re willing to do is answer one damned question? Maybe they’re not such good guys. Maybe this is all a weird plot to get us to tear ourselves apart. One question. Half the world is arguing with the other half over what The Question should be. With only a few hours left, they still haven’t been able to decide.

Sure, he thought to himself, it could all be a set-up. They tell us we can ask one question, knowing that we might end up fighting a goddamned war over what The Question should be. What better way to divide us, and then walk in and take over the remains?

No, a saner voice in his mind answered. That’s paranoid stupidity. Their spacecraft is already zooming out of the solar system, heading high above the ecliptic. They won’t get within a couple of light-hours of Earth, for God’s sake. They’re not coming to invade us. By this time tomorrow they’ll be on their way to Epsilon Eridani, near as I can figure their trajectory.

But what better way to divide us? he repeated silently. They couldn’t have figured out a more diabolical method of driving us all nuts if they tried.