That settled the question of human origin of the ship. No human crew would choose to work under six gee’s.
Now, paralleling us at just over two hundred miles, the giant ship spun along, at rest relative to us. It was visible now through the direct observation panel, without magnification.
I left Clay in charge on the bridge, and I went down to the Com Section.
Joyce sat at his board, reading instruments and keying controls. So he was back on the job. Mannion sat, head bent, monitoring his recorder. The room was filled with the keening staccato of the alien transmission.
“Getting anything on video?” I asked. Joyce shook his head. “Nothing, Captain. I’ve checked the whole spectrum, and this is all I get. It’s coming in on about a dozen different frequencies; no FM.”
“Any progress, Mannion?” I said.
He took off his headset. “It’s the same thing, repeated over and over, just a short phrase. I’d have better luck if they’d vary it a little.”
“Try sending,” I said.
Joyce tuned the clatter down to a faint clicking, and switched his transmitter on. “You’re on, Captain,” he said.