good color choice, Donovan thought, remembering his own carpet shopping when he'd set up his apartment last year after the divorce. Doesn't show dirt.
Thinking of his divorce made Donovan recall-with a guilty start-that he hadn't called Sean in almost three days. Since before this thing started. The event of the century, and you haven't phoned to see how your only child is reacting. He made a swift mental promise to call first thing tomorrow morning, and to visit over the weekend. He wondered if Sean had seen him walk up those stairs and enter the alien shuttle-then smiled. He knew he had. Sean was his Dad's biggest cheering section. Even Marjorie's bitterness can't change that.
Kristine Walsh was sitting across the cabin from him, still deep in conversation with John. Donovan wondered what they were talking about-she was smiling that wide, candid grin that Mike knew she reserved for people she really liked. He felt an irrational stab of jealousy. Cut it out, idiot. You're here for a story, not a romantic interlude.
Quickly he panned the camera around the inside, wishing he had more light. The Visitors evidently kept their illumination levels at what most humans would think of as "late-night television" dimness. Donovan could see clearly enough, but reading would have been uncomfortable after more than a few minutes.
But I thought Sirius was a really bright star ... Have to check it out with the observatory when / get back ... I suppose their planet could have a heavy cloud cover or something ...
Two other Visitors, young men about Donovan's age, stuck their heads into the main cabin, and John nodded. Moments later, Donovan felt a slight movement as the craft evidently took off. He wished the windows weren't darkened-what a shot it would make to catch the UN Building rooftop receding, and that giant saucer drawing closer!
The alien craft was silent and seemed nearly motionless. Donovan wondered how the Visitors powered their ships. Jargon from Cosmos episodes and science fiction stories zipped through his mindmatter/antimatter, ion drives, tesseracts, space warps
Tony turned to him. "Scared, Mike?" "Are you?" "Yeah, a little maybe. This is a big day for the whole planet."
"It's funny how you start thinking of this place as a planet-only one of God knows how many-since they came along."
"I've noticed that. What you'd call a cosmic consciousnessraiser, I guess." "Yeah. But to answer your question-yeah, I'm a little scared too."
There was an almost imperceptible bump, then the craft stopped. Donovan gathered up his camera, setting it to compensate as much as possible for the anticipated lack of lighting. "Here we go."
They stepped out into a large, open area. Rows of shuttles like the one they'd arrived in were lined up on either side. The large docking bay looked very similar to those Donovan had seen aboard the biggest of the Navy's aircraft carriers. The white craft gleamed faintly, reflecting a dim blue from the overall lighting and the painted floor. John explained that each docking bay held about three dozen shuttles, and that there were two hundred or more of them scattered through the great Mother Ships that made up the fleet. Donovan heard Kristine relaying this information in her voice-over recording as he wheeled slowly, panning his camera.
The Visitor leader touched Kristine's arm. "This way. I'll take you to see the Main Control Room." Donovan trailed behind them so he could shoot the overhead catwalk with the journalists climbing up to it. Then he hurried to catch up.
As they moved above the docking bay, a dark-haired, extremely attractive woman entered from a side door and stood waiting for them. Donovan zoomed in on her. Even with the low lighting level it was impossible to mistake the authority in her dark eyes, an authority which seemed as much a part of her as her sculpted cheekbones and generous mouth. Kristine's voice reached Donovan as they walked toward the Visitor woman.
"You have both males and
Thinking of his divorce made Donovan recall-with a guilty start-that he hadn't called Sean in almost three days. Since before this thing started. The event of the century, and you haven't phoned to see how your only child is reacting. He made a swift mental promise to call first thing tomorrow morning, and to visit over the weekend. He wondered if Sean had seen him walk up those stairs and enter the alien shuttle-then smiled. He knew he had. Sean was his Dad's biggest cheering section. Even Marjorie's bitterness can't change that.
Kristine Walsh was sitting across the cabin from him, still deep in conversation with John. Donovan wondered what they were talking about-she was smiling that wide, candid grin that Mike knew she reserved for people she really liked. He felt an irrational stab of jealousy. Cut it out, idiot. You're here for a story, not a romantic interlude.
Quickly he panned the camera around the inside, wishing he had more light. The Visitors evidently kept their illumination levels at what most humans would think of as "late-night television" dimness. Donovan could see clearly enough, but reading would have been uncomfortable after more than a few minutes.
But I thought Sirius was a really bright star ... Have to check it out with the observatory when / get back ... I suppose their planet could have a heavy cloud cover or something ...
Two other Visitors, young men about Donovan's age, stuck their heads into the main cabin, and John nodded. Moments later, Donovan felt a slight movement as the craft evidently took off. He wished the windows weren't darkened-what a shot it would make to catch the UN Building rooftop receding, and that giant saucer drawing closer!
The alien craft was silent and seemed nearly motionless. Donovan wondered how the Visitors powered their ships. Jargon from Cosmos episodes and science fiction stories zipped through his mindmatter/antimatter, ion drives, tesseracts, space warps
Tony turned to him. "Scared, Mike?" "Are you?" "Yeah, a little maybe. This is a big day for the whole planet."
"It's funny how you start thinking of this place as a planet-only one of God knows how many-since they came along."
"I've noticed that. What you'd call a cosmic consciousnessraiser, I guess." "Yeah. But to answer your question-yeah, I'm a little scared too."
There was an almost imperceptible bump, then the craft stopped. Donovan gathered up his camera, setting it to compensate as much as possible for the anticipated lack of lighting. "Here we go."
They stepped out into a large, open area. Rows of shuttles like the one they'd arrived in were lined up on either side. The large docking bay looked very similar to those Donovan had seen aboard the biggest of the Navy's aircraft carriers. The white craft gleamed faintly, reflecting a dim blue from the overall lighting and the painted floor. John explained that each docking bay held about three dozen shuttles, and that there were two hundred or more of them scattered through the great Mother Ships that made up the fleet. Donovan heard Kristine relaying this information in her voice-over recording as he wheeled slowly, panning his camera.
The Visitor leader touched Kristine's arm. "This way. I'll take you to see the Main Control Room." Donovan trailed behind them so he could shoot the overhead catwalk with the journalists climbing up to it. Then he hurried to catch up.
As they moved above the docking bay, a dark-haired, extremely attractive woman entered from a side door and stood waiting for them. Donovan zoomed in on her. Even with the low lighting level it was impossible to mistake the authority in her dark eyes, an authority which seemed as much a part of her as her sculpted cheekbones and generous mouth. Kristine's voice reached Donovan as they walked toward the Visitor woman.
"You have both males and
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