Transmission

Kevin might have asked if he was joking, but one look at Professor Brewster’s face made it obvious he wasn’t. Kevin’s heart tightened in his chest at the thought. The President was coming here, to see him? Somehow, even the presence of the aliens seemed more possible than that. Kevin suddenly found himself wondering if he’d just done the right thing, nerves rising up through him. It didn’t seem right somehow that he was meeting the President.

He followed Professor Brewster and Dr. Levin to the research institute’s lobby, having to hurry to keep up. It was obvious that they didn’t want to keep the President waiting. As they got closer, Kevin glanced out of the building’s windows, seeing a long motorcade there, full of vehicles with blacked out windows.

By the time they reached the lobby, the President was already in the building, and he wasn’t the only one. Secret Service agents in dark suits spread out as if expecting a threat at any moment. Advisors and assistants trailed him in a huddle, some of them looking a little surprised that they were there. Kevin saw other people too, with badges proclaiming them to be from the military, the NSA, the FBI, and more. It seemed that no one had wanted to miss out on being a part of this.

The President walked over as they arrived, taking Professor Brewster’s hand, then turning his attention to Kevin. Kevin swallowed nervously as the older man stared at him.

 “So this is the boy?” the President said, looking Kevin up and down as if expecting far more.

“Yes, sir,” Professor Brewster said, sounding positively deferential. “This is Kevin.”

“Kevin? All right, Kevin, do you know who I am?”

“You’re the President,” Kevin said. Inside, a small voice was repeating the words you’re talking to the President over and over. He did his best to ignore it, because if he listened too much, he suspected that he might not be able to say anything.

“Good lad. Now, tell me honestly, can you really talk to aliens?”

“No sir,” Kevin said.

“Ha, I knew it!” the President said. “I told them in the emergency contingencies committee that—”

“I can’t talk to them, but I do receive messages from them,” Kevin went on. “They send information about themselves and their planet, and I can translate it.”

The President’s expression changed, as if he didn’t quite know what to say to that. Kevin was getting used to that expression from people by now.

“Well then,” the President said, wagging a finger. “Just you remember that this information was given to us, in America. It was obviously intended for us as the most advanced nation on Earth.”

“Sir,” Professor Brewster said, “the signal hits the whole world. Kevin is just the one who is able to translate it. You should also be aware that we’ve agreed to press conferences so that we can’t be accused of hiding the information.”

Kevin was surprised to find the man sticking up for sharing the information like that. Sticking up for him like that. An advisor came up to the President and whispered something in his ear.

“Well,” the President said, “maybe that’s a good thing. Other countries will see us sharing it and know that they wouldn’t have gotten it without us.”

“Yes, sir,” Professor Brewster said.

“But now, I’d like to see a demonstration. Kevin, can you show me what you can do?”

Kevin looked to the others, who nodded. “We can only do it if there’s a signal,” he said.

But even as he said it, he could feel the pressure in his skull that preceded one. An alarm sounded and they hurried in the direction of the room where he did the translating, sitting and waiting. Kevin sat there, while outside the President and his advisors stood around, looking as though they didn’t know what was happening.

Words filtered into his mind, the translation happening automatically.

Our world was destroyed. The words sounded flat, without emotion. We had to flee. So few survived.

Kevin repeated the words, and he could see the President’s expression changing, first to surprise, and then to something like wonder.

We hid everything we were, the voice said, and Kevin repeated it, as much of ourselves as we could before the fire came. Messages were sent out, so that people would know of us. We sent capsules in every direction, toward all of the inhabited worlds.

Kevin tried to imagine it, spaceships sent in every direction, trying to find safety. How much effort would it have taken to organize that? How would they have been able to organize it with a disaster threatening them?

Each vessel holds a record of our history, the voice continued.