To The Stars

They had just time enough for a warm embrace before Fryer clattered back up the stairs.

“Here you are,” Fryer said, setting two heavy bottles on the deck. He dropped a metal box next to them and went to get a towel from the galley to wipe them dry. There were glasses ready on the table; Jan unscrewed one of the tops and poured them full.

“Home brew,” Fryer said. “Better than the slops they serve in the pubs.” He drained his glass in a single go and began opening the seals on the box while Jan poured him a second one. When the top came off Fryer lifted two small aluminum foil envelopes out of the box and set them on the table.

“To all appearances these are ordinary TV recordings,” Sara said. “In fact you could play them on your set at home. One is an organ recital, the other a comedy program. Put them in the bag you will be taking with you — along with some recordings of your own. Make no attempt to hide them. Recordings like these are stock in trade with the spacers and there will be plenty about.”

“Why are these so special?” Jan asked.

“Fryer, will you go on deck as a lookout?” Sara asked.

“That’s the way, Queeny. What they don’t know they can’t tell.”

He picked up the full bottle of beer and went out. As soon as the door closed Sara pulled off the face-changer and Jan had her in his arms, kissing her with a passion that surprised both of them.

“Not now, please, there is so little time,” Sara said, trying to push him away.

“When will there be time? Tell me right now or I won’t let you go.”

“Jan — tomorrow then. Pick me up at the club and we’ll go out for dinner.”

“And for afters?”

“You know what you’ll have for afters.” She laughed and pulled away, sitting on the far side of the table from him.

“Maybe my sister is right,” Jan said. “I might be the falling-in-love kind after all…”

“Please don’t talk like that. Not now or ever. There is only ten minutes before your car comes back, we must finish this.”

He opened his mouth to speak — but did not. He nodded instead and she relaxed. But he noticed that she was wringing her fingers together, unknowingly. They would talk tomorrow. She pushed the recordings over to him.

“This is the important one, the organ recital,” she said. “I don’t know how it is done, but a computer memory has been worked into the background noise, the static.”

“Of course! What an interesting idea. Any computer memory is composed of two signals — a yes and a no, that is all you have in binary. So a memory could be stretched out, modulated, changed in frequency, dropped in as apparently random bits of surface noise. And without the key no one else would be able to read it.”

“I’m sure you’re right. This is the way we have communicated in the past. But it is clumsy and slow and many of the recordings go astray. A new system has been worked out — and details are on this disc. This one must get through. The situation out there is ready to blow, and it will go up as soon as we can establish reliable communication. This will be just the beginning. Other planets will follow.”

“All right,” Jan said, putting the envelopes into his shirt pocket and buttoning the flap. “But why two of them?”

“Our contact on the deep spacer is sure he has been spotted, that the recording will be intercepted. So you will give the dummy to the first man that contacts you. Save the second for the real agent.”

“How will I know what to do?”

“You will be watched. As soon as you are used to working in space you will be on your own. You will be contacted then. Whoever approaches you will use the phrase, ‘Have you checked your safety line lately?’ Give him the recording.”

“The dummy?”

“Correct. The real agent will then come to you for the proper recording.”

“It all sounds hideously complicated.”

“It has to be. Just follow orders.”

The cabin door creaked open slightly and Fryer spoke through the crack.

“Car coming in two minutes,” he said. “Let’s go.

Eighteen