介绍:
Gary and I entered the prefab building containing the center of operations for the looking glass site. Inside
it looked like they were planning an invasion, or perhaps an evacuation: crew-cut soldiers worked around
a large map of the area, or sat in front of burly electronic gear while speaking into headsets. We were
shown into Colonel Weber's office, a room in the back that was cool from air conditioning.
We briefed the colonel on our first day's results. “Doesn't sound like you got very far,” he said.
“I have an idea as to how we can make faster progress,” I said. “But you'll have to approve the use of
more equipment.”
“What more do you need?”
“A digital camera, and a big video screen.” I showed him a drawing of the setup I imagined. “I want to try
conducting the discovery procedure using writing; I'd display words on the screen, and use the camera to
record the words they write. I'm hoping the heptapods will do the same.”
Weber looked at the drawing dubiously. “What would be the advantage of that?”
“So far I've been proceeding the way I would with speakers of an unwritten language. Then it occurred to
me that the heptapods must have writing, too.”
“So?”
“If the heptapods have a mechanical way of producing writing, then their writing ought to be very regular,
very consistent. That would make it easier for us to identify graphemes instead of phonemes. It's like
picking out the letters in a printed sentence instead of trying to hear them when the sentence is spoken
aloud.”
“I take your point,” he admitted. “And how would you respond to them? Show them the words they
displayed to you?”
“Basically. And if they put spaces between words, any sentences we write would be a lot more intelligible
than any spoken sentence we might splice together from recordings.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You know we want to show as little of our technology as possible.”
“I understand, but we're using machines as intermediaries already. If we can get them to use writing, I
believe progress will go much faster than if we're restricted to the sound spectrographs.”
The colonel turned to Gary. “Your opinion?”
“It sounds like a good idea to me. I'm curious whether the heptapods might have difficulty reading our
monitors. Their looking glasses are based on a completely different technology than our video screens. As
far as we can tell, they don't use pixels or scan lines, and they don't refresh on a frame-by-frame basis.”
“You think the scan lines on our video screens might render them unreadable to the heptapods?”
“It's possible,” said Gary. “We'll just have to try it and see.”
Weber considered it. For me it wasn't even a question, but from his point of view it was a difficult one; like
a soldier, though, he made it quickly. “Request granted. Talk to the sergeant outside about bringing in
what you need. Have it ready for tomorrow.”I remember one day during the summer when you're sixteen. For once, the person waiting for her date to
arrive is me. Of course, you'll be waiting around too, curious to see what he looks like. You'll have a friend
of yours, a blond girl with the unlikely name of Roxie, hanging out with you, giggling.
“You may feel the urge to make comments about him,” I'll say, checking myself in the hallway mirror. “Just
restrain yourselves until we leave.”
“Don't worry, Mom,” you'll say. “We'll do it so that he won't know. Roxie, you ask me what I think the
weather will be like tonight. Then I'll say what I think of Mom's date.”
“Right,” Roxie will say.
“No, you most definitely will not,” I'll say.
“Relax, Mom. He'll never know; we do this all the time.”
“What a comfort that is.”
A little later on, Nelson will arrive to pick me up. I'll do the introductions, and we'll all engage in a little small
talk on the front porch. Nelson is ruggedly handsome, to your evident approval. Just as we're about to
leave, Roxie will say to you casually, “So what do you think the weather will be like tonight?”
“I think it's going to be really hot,” you'll answer.
Roxie will nod in agreement. Nelson will say, “Really? I thought they said it was going to be cool.”
“I have a sixth sense about these things,” you'll say. Your face will give nothing away. “I get the feeling it's
going to be a scorcher. Good thing you're dressed for it, Mom.”
I'll glare at you, and say good night.
As I lead Nelson toward his car, he'll ask me, amused, “I'm missing something here, aren't I?”
“A private joke,” I'll mutter. “Don't ask me to explain it.”
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