The Wailing Asteroid | Page 4

muscle at the first
of them. The fluting noises were higher and lower in turn. At intervals,
they paused as if between groups of signals constituting a word. The
enigmatic sounds went on for a full minute. Then they stopped. The
voice returned:
"These are the signals from space. What you have heard is apparently a
complete message. It is repeated five times and then ceases. An hour
and nineteen minutes later it is again repeated five times..."
The voice continued, while Burke remained frozen and motionless in
the parked car. Sandy watched him, at first hopefully, and then
bewilderedly. The voice said that the signal strength was very great.
But the power for artificial-satellite broadcasts is only a fraction of a
watt. These signals, considering the minimum distance from which
they could come, had at least thousands of kilowatts behind them.
Somewhere out in space, farther than man's robot rockets had ever gone,
huge amounts of electric energy were controlled to send these signals to
Earth. Scientists were in disagreement about the possible distance the
signals had traveled, whether they were meant solely for Earth or not,

and whether they were an attempt to open communication with
humanity. But nobody doubted that the signals were artificial. They had
been sent by technical means. They could not conceivably be natural
phenomena. Directional fixes said absolutely that they did not come
from Mars or Jupiter or Saturn. Neptune and Uranus and Pluto were not
nearly in the line of the signals' travel. Of course Venus and Mercury
were to sunward of Earth, which ruled them out, since the signals
arrived only on the night side of mankind's world. Nobody could guess,
as yet, where they did originate.
Burke sat utterly still, every muscle tense. He was so pale that even in
the moonlight Sandy saw it. She was alarmed.
"Joe! What's the matter?"
"Did you-- hear that?" he asked thinly. "The signals?"
"Of course. But what..."
"I recognized them," said Burke, in a tone that was somehow
despairing. "I've heard signals like that every so often since I was a
kid." He swallowed. "It was sounds like that, and what went with them,
that has been the-- trouble with me. I was going to tell you about it--
and ask you if you'd marry me anyway."
He began to tremble a little, which was not at all like the Joe Burke that
Sandy knew.
"I don't quite under--"
"I'm afraid I've gone out of my head," he said unsteadily. "Look, Sandy!
I was going to propose to you. Instead, I'm going to take you back to
the office. I'm going to play you a recording I made a year ago. I think
that when you've heard it you'll decide you wouldn't want to marry me
anyhow."
Sandy looked at him with astonished eyes.

"You mean those signals from somewhere mean something special to
you?"
"Very special," said Burke. "They raise the question of whether I've
been crazy, and am suddenly sane, or whether I've been sane up to now,
and have suddenly gone crazy."
The radio switched back to dance music. Burke cut it off. He started the
car's motor. He backed, swung around, and headed for the office and
construction shed of Burke Development, Inc.
Elsewhere, the profoundest minds of the planet gingerly examined the
appalling fact that signals came to Earth from a place where men could
not be. A message came from something which was not human. It was
a suggestion to make cold chills run up and down any educated spine.
But Burke drove tensely, and the road's surface sped toward the car's
wheels and vanished under them. A warm breeze hummed and
thuttered around the windshield. Sandy sat very still.
"The way I'm acting doesn't make sense, does it?" Burke asked. "Do
you feel like you're riding with a lunatic?"
"No," she said. "But I never thought that if you ever did get around to
asking me to marry you, somebody from outer space would forbid the
banns! Can't you tell me what all this is about?"
"I doubt it very much," he told her. "Can you tell me what the signals
are about?"
She shook her head. He drove through the night. Presently he said,
"Aside from my private angle on the matter, there are some queer
things about this business. Why should somebody out in space send us
a broadcast? It's not from a planet, they say. If there's a spaceship on
the way here, why warn us? If they want to be friends, they can't be
sure we'll permit it. If they intend to be enemies, why throw away the
advantage of surprise? In either case, it would be foolish to send cryptic
messages on ahead. And any message would have to be cryptic."

The car