HOME | DD

Description
It was picked up all over the world in January, but nobody thought anything of it. Six months later, despite the best efforts of the technicians, it was still there, and getting louder, and everyone agreed it was no magnetic storm. Talkback radio overflowed with theories and opinions, from Nobel laureates, paranoid clergymen, fresh-faced children.

It had been a hum, but by July it was a roar. It swelled and wavered. They set up a special channel for the signal. Families listened to it over dinner, terrified and excited all at once.

And, finally...

Finally it exploded into song, the strangest music ever heard on Earth, and the voices of millions. Daily chatter in languages unknown, speaking inconsequential words with no meaning, but it was the most miraculous thing ever heard - that humanity was not alone.

The astronomers jumped up, held hands and drank champagne, for now nobody could say they were foolish old dreamers. The men in suits composed a reply, hoping it would shine out amidst the noise pollution that had been poured into the heavens. The message was a polite expression of interest, a brief introduction, in case they were not ready for us.

Nobody knew whether the answer would come in a lifetime or ten, so a team of experts was set up to monitor the signal. They passed their days in a station by the sea while everyone else drifted back to their daily lives. For many months, people continued to talk about what it could be, what it could mean. There were films, books, a low-budget television series. Some predicted friendship, others saw only doom.

Eventually, with wars and crises and scandals to occupy the public consciousness, the whole episode faded into memory, except for those generations of listeners at their posts.

The signal changed with time. There was more music. Styles came and went; eerie, echoing melodies gave way to tentative rhythms in unfamiliar time-signatures. After that, talking became popular, and a prominent linguist pinned down the aliens' laugh. It sounded nothing like a human's, but the feeling it produced was unmistakable. A single newspaper article was written about it.

But before long, the voices stopped laughing. Though no words could be understood, there was something like urgency coming to the fore. It continued in this way for three months, and the team of listeners felt very uneasy until, one day, it went silent. The experts started to go home, and took menial jobs because they did not know how to do anything else. It was the hottest summer on record.

When only five were left, the ones who were most hopeful and afraid, the signal returned.

The voice that confronted them was a hollow monotone, and it repeated itself exactly every thirty-one minutes and four seconds. They sent a recording to a forensic analyst, who said it bore the hallmarks of synthesised speech. Nobody cared to write about it this time. The voice became steadily quieter.

There was never an answer to the jovial greeting.

Soon after, the listening station had to be evacuated; a freak cyclone blew through and tore apart everything that could not be saved. The ocean had been creeping up the coastline for some decades, swallowing whole the livelihoods of those too poor or too stubborn to move away. The five looked at the outside world for the first time in years, blinked at the harsh glare of the Sun, and saw humanity collapsing.

Description
It was picked up all over the world in January, but nobody thought anything of it. Six months later, despite the best efforts of the technicians, it was still there, and getting louder, and everyone agreed it was no magnetic storm. Talkback radio overflowed with theories and opinions, from Nobel laureates, paranoid clergymen, fresh-faced children.

It had been a hum, but by July it was a roar. It swelled and wavered. They set up a special channel for the signal. Families listened to it over dinner, terrified and excited all at once.

And, finally...

Finally it exploded into song, the strangest music ever heard on Earth, and the voices of millions. Daily chatter in languages unknown, speaking inconsequential words with no meaning, but it was the most miraculous thing ever heard - that humanity was not alone.

The astronomers jumped up, held hands and drank champagne, for now nobody could say they were foolish old dreamers. The men in suits composed a reply, hoping it would shine out amidst the noise pollution that had been poured into the heavens. The message was a polite expression of interest, a brief introduction, in case they were not ready for us.

Nobody knew whether the answer would come in a lifetime or ten, so a team of experts was set up to monitor the signal. They passed their days in a station by the sea while everyone else drifted back to their daily lives. For many months, people continued to talk about what it could be, what it could mean. There were films, books, a low-budget television series. Some predicted friendship, others saw only doom.

Eventually, with wars and crises and scandals to occupy the public consciousness, the whole episode faded into memory, except for those generations of listeners at their posts.

The signal changed with time. There was more music. Styles came and went; eerie, echoing melodies gave way to tentative rhythms in unfamiliar time-signatures. After that, talking became popular, and a prominent linguist pinned down the aliens' laugh. It sounded nothing like a human's, but the feeling it produced was unmistakable. A single newspaper article was written about it.

But before long, the voices stopped laughing. Though no words could be understood, there was something like urgency coming to the fore. It continued in this way for three months, and the team of listeners felt very uneasy until, one day, it went silent. The experts started to go home, and took menial jobs because they did not know how to do anything else. It was the hottest summer on record.

When only five were left, the ones who were most hopeful and afraid, the signal returned.

The voice that confronted them was a hollow monotone, and it repeated itself exactly every thirty-one minutes and four seconds. They sent a recording to a forensic analyst, who said it bore the hallmarks of synthesised speech. Nobody cared to write about it this time. The voice became steadily quieter.

There was never an answer to the jovial greeting.

Soon after, the listening station had to be evacuated; a freak cyclone blew through and tore apart everything that could not be saved. The ocean had been creeping up the coastline for some decades, swallowing whole the livelihoods of those too poor or too stubborn to move away. The five looked at the outside world for the first time in years, blinked at the harsh glare of the Sun, and saw humanity collapsing.