Leviathans of Jupiter

images?”

Andy nodded vigorously. “Don’t you?”

* * *

Linda Vishnevskaya stared at the screen in the center of her control console. Blank. She glanced at the digital clock display to the right of the screen: 0600 hours.

They’re launching the first data capsule, she said to herself. We should pick up its radio beacon in half an hour, as soon as it breaks out of the ocean.

She waited impatiently, fingers fidgeting in her lap. This early in the morning, the mission control center was manned only by Vishnevskaya herself. She didn’t need any of her team simply to monitor the emergence of a data capsule. The capsule was programmed to climb out of Jupiter’s atmosphere and establish itself in a circular equatorial orbit. From there it would beam the contents of its memory core to the communications satellites in stationary orbit around Jupiter, which would relay the data to the receivers aboard station Gold. In less than two minutes after the capsule popped out of the ocean they would begin receiving its signal.

Vishnevskaya sensed someone entering the visitors’ gallery up along the top of the control center’s circular chamber. She didn’t bother to turn around, but instead moved her head slightly so she could see the newcomer’s reflection in the dark screen on her console.

It looked like Katherine Westfall. Vishnevskaya felt surprised. Why would Mrs. Westfall show up this early in the morning for something as routine as a data capsule?

* * *

“The mission time line calls for launching the capsule now,” said Dorn. “If we don’t—”

“You can delay the launch for a few minutes, can’t you?” Deirdre pleaded.

“Why?” Yeager demanded.

“Take out the color from the images the leviathans are showing,” she said.

“Take out—”

“I’m seeing images,” Corvus explained, his voice high with excitement even in the sound-deepening liquid perfluorocarbon.

Yeager frowned at him.

“I can’t see colors, but I’m seeing pictures,” Corvus insisted. “Drawings. Like stick figures, almost.”

Dorn’s face was impassive, but he muttered, “Canceling capsule launch.” His human hand reached for an orange-glowing button on his console.

Deirdre stared at her display screen while Dorn and Yeager leaned toward the central screen on the cyborg’s control console.

Pointing over Deirdre’s shoulder, Corvus said, “See? Can’t you see the images?”

The swaths of color along the leviathans’ flanks were now gray on the display screen. And Deirdre saw … pictures! Shapes. They were crude, almost like stick figures. But definitely shapes.

“That’s the two of them!” she yelped.

“With us in between,” Dorn said. “That round figure must be us.”

“God damn,” Yeager breathed.

“And there,” Corvus said, “that must be a stream of organics coming down from up above.”

Now the displays on both leviathans’ flanks showed many more creatures, a whole herd of them.

“They’re telling us that they eat the organics,” Deirdre said.

“And there’s lots of them!” Corvus added. “Dozens.”

“A hundred or so,” said Dorn.

As they watched, the leviathans’ displays changed so rapidly they couldn’t follow them. It was like watching a speeded-up video.

“The computer can slow it down,” Yeager said.

“Not yet,” Corvus snapped. “Let’s get it in real time first.”

“Is all this being recorded in the data capsule?” Deirdre asked.

“Yes,” Dorn replied. “Automatically.”

Deirdre felt her whole body quivering with excitement. The pain in her chest was still there, she could still feel it, but it was nothing but a minor annoyance now. The leviathans are speaking to us! She could see the meaning in their imagery!

“That looks like those sharks,” Andy said.

“And that’s us, rushing toward them,” Deirdre added.

Yeager muttered, “The charge of the frigging light brigade.”

“They’re replaying our little battle,” Dorn said.

“But they don’t show themselves splitting up, reproducing,” said Corvus.

“They don’t do leviathan porn,” Yeager said, with the barest hint of a chuckle.

It was difficult to make sense of the images, they flickered on and off so rapidly. It looked like the two leviathans charging at the sharks, but it was too swift for Deirdre to be certain, the images of the sharks flicked off so quickly. Then at last she saw the circular image of their own ship and the two leviathans on either side of it. The sharks were gone.

“They’ve replayed our battle, all right,” Corvus said.

The leviathans’ displays went blank. The enormous creatures swam on either side of Faraday in silence.

“What now?” Yeager asked.

“Maybe they’re waiting for us to reply,” Corvus suggested.

“So what do we say?” Yeager demanded, “ ‘Greetings from planet Earth?’ ”

“Replay what they just showed us,” Deirdre said.

“Replay their imagery?” asked Dorn.

Nodding, Deirdre said, “Show them that we received their message and we understand it.”

“We think we understand it,” Yeager corrected.

“At least show them that we received it,” said Deirdre.

“Very well,” Dorn agreed, turning back to his keyboard panel.

Andy’s lopsided grin went from ear to ear. “Well, they’re intelligent, all right. We’ve established that much.”

Dorn glanced at the mission time line displayed on the auxiliary screen on the left side of his console.

“We should have launched the data capsule ten minutes ago,” he said.

“Pop it now,” Yeager urged. “It oughtta make Archer and the rest of the scooters pretty damned happy.”

* * *

Linda Vishnevskaya stared at the digital clock display. Ten minutes, she realized. They should have launched the data capsule ten minutes ago. She felt a cold hollow in the pit of her stomach. Something’s gone wrong, she knew. Something’s gone terribly wrong.

Behind her, up in the otherwise empty visitors’ gallery, Katherine Westfall got to her feet and quietly stole out of the mission control center. She couldn’t suppress the victorious grin that curled her lips, despite the ache in her gut that still gnawed at her.

GRANT ARCHER’S OFFICE