“This is Captain Greylorn, UNACV Galahad; kindly identify yourself.” I repeated this slowly, half a dozen times. It occurred to me that this was the first known time in history a human being had addressed a non-human intelligence. The last was a guess, but I couldn’t interpret our guest’s purposeful maneuverings as other than intelligent.
I checked with the bridge; no change. Suddenly the clatter stopped, leaving only the carrier hum.
“Can’t you tune that whine out, Joyce?” I asked.
“No, sir,” he replied. “That’s a very noisy transmission. Sounds like maybe their equipment is on the blink.”
We listened to the hum, waiting. Then the clatter began again.
“This is different,” Mannion said. “It’s longer.”
I went back to the bridge, and waited for the next move from the stranger, or for word from Mannion. Every half hour I transmitted a call identifying us, followed by a sample of our language. I gave them English, Russian, and Standard Interlingua. I didn’t know why, but somehow I had a faint hope they might understand some of it.
I stayed on the bridge when the watch changed. I had some food sent up, and slept a few hours on the OD’s bunk.
Fine replaced Kramer on his watch when it rolled around. Apparently Kramer was out of circulation. At this point I did not feel inclined to pursue the point.
We had been at General Quarters for twenty-one hours when the wall annunciator hummed.