Carlton
finished logging the data from the night's addition to the Radio
Astronomy G-type Star Survey. RAGSS wasn't the most glamorous acronym,
but he was glad to be working on a project that helped to characterise
the Sun in comparison to its stellar brethren, and glad to be able to
use the famous Arecibo "chum-bowl in the Jungle".
That nickname needs work - I better not say it out loud.
RAGSS was able to use this prestigious facility by the happy coincidence that they were interested in almost exactly the same set of stars that SETI liked to repeatedly survey, and that they were using a completely different set of electromagnetic frequencies to do so. RAGSS's PI Doctor Ortega would have liked to go star-to-star at a faster clip than SETI, but as a serendipitous alignment of interests between the now-wealthy Alien-Seekers and a tiny, under-funded, but respected graduate school in Philadelphia, they were slaved to SETI's will - and SETI figured ET would need at least 15 minutes-per-star-per-month to let itself be known.
Carlton smiled as he packed up his laptop and breezed out the door. He always liked to drop by the SETI shack when Daisy was on duty and try to cheer her up - she wasn't the most talkative intern, but she was cute and nerdy, and nowhere near as intimidatingly different as the local Puerto Rican girls. He liked to think she enjoyed his visits, despite herself.
The cheesiest grin he could muster plastered his jowly face as he knocked on the door.
"Carlton?! Come in! Look at this!" came the muffled but alert voice from the other side of the door.
That's unusually perky for Daisy...
The door was ripped open by a wide-eyed Daisy. "I think I've actually got a candidate!"
Carlton spread his arms demonstratively and dropped the line he'd been preparing.
"From RAGSS to riches!"
No effect.
That was terrible. Really awful. I mean, accurate, but in-poor-taste, and just terrible. Stop smiling, Carlton.
Luckily, Daisy hadn't seemed to hear him. "LOOK!" she implored, pointing at her laptop.
One half of the screen was a 3D signal attenuation graph, and the left hand side showed the familiar raw detector feed alphanumeric grid on the top half, and a similar drizzle-feed of frequency distributions. Each display was synced, and repeating a 30-second loop of recorded data.
A high-strength signal bubbled onto the upper left of the grid, pulsed rythmically across the field, the counter reset, and the playback started again. The frequency distribution graph showed activity confined to one vertical bar, and the 3D graph... looked pretty provocative.
Carlton's ample jaw succumbed to gravity.
"Is this real-time?"
"yeah."
"A comsat."
"No, look at the slew-rate."
"A geostationary comsat."
"No! look at the pointing!"
"Ok... you need more eyes on this. Have you called your boss?" He looked at her expectantly, totally not thinking about how hot she was when gripped by scientific awe.
She gulped, reaching for her phone. "I really don't want to be wrong."
Part III
That nickname needs work - I better not say it out loud.
RAGSS was able to use this prestigious facility by the happy coincidence that they were interested in almost exactly the same set of stars that SETI liked to repeatedly survey, and that they were using a completely different set of electromagnetic frequencies to do so. RAGSS's PI Doctor Ortega would have liked to go star-to-star at a faster clip than SETI, but as a serendipitous alignment of interests between the now-wealthy Alien-Seekers and a tiny, under-funded, but respected graduate school in Philadelphia, they were slaved to SETI's will - and SETI figured ET would need at least 15 minutes-per-star-per-month to let itself be known.
Carlton smiled as he packed up his laptop and breezed out the door. He always liked to drop by the SETI shack when Daisy was on duty and try to cheer her up - she wasn't the most talkative intern, but she was cute and nerdy, and nowhere near as intimidatingly different as the local Puerto Rican girls. He liked to think she enjoyed his visits, despite herself.
The cheesiest grin he could muster plastered his jowly face as he knocked on the door.
"Carlton?! Come in! Look at this!" came the muffled but alert voice from the other side of the door.
That's unusually perky for Daisy...
The door was ripped open by a wide-eyed Daisy. "I think I've actually got a candidate!"
Carlton spread his arms demonstratively and dropped the line he'd been preparing.
"From RAGSS to riches!"
No effect.
That was terrible. Really awful. I mean, accurate, but in-poor-taste, and just terrible. Stop smiling, Carlton.
Luckily, Daisy hadn't seemed to hear him. "LOOK!" she implored, pointing at her laptop.
One half of the screen was a 3D signal attenuation graph, and the left hand side showed the familiar raw detector feed alphanumeric grid on the top half, and a similar drizzle-feed of frequency distributions. Each display was synced, and repeating a 30-second loop of recorded data.
A high-strength signal bubbled onto the upper left of the grid, pulsed rythmically across the field, the counter reset, and the playback started again. The frequency distribution graph showed activity confined to one vertical bar, and the 3D graph... looked pretty provocative.
Carlton's ample jaw succumbed to gravity.
"Is this real-time?"
"yeah."
"A comsat."
"No, look at the slew-rate."
"A geostationary comsat."
"No! look at the pointing!"
"Ok... you need more eyes on this. Have you called your boss?" He looked at her expectantly, totally not thinking about how hot she was when gripped by scientific awe.
She gulped, reaching for her phone. "I really don't want to be wrong."
Part III
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