"Murray Leinster - Proxima Centauri" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

He saluted, pointedly to the commander. Which was according to
regulations, but Aistair’s eyes snapped.
“Ah, yes,” said the commander. “Gary. It’s about time for more signals,
isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack Gary was very quiet, very businesslike. Only once, when he glanced
at Helen, was there any hint of anything but the formal manner of a man intent
on his job. Then, his eyes told her something, in an infinitely small fraction
of a second, which changed her expression to one of flushed content.
Short as the glance was, Aistair saw it. He said harshly: “Have you made
any progress in. deciphering the signals, Gary?”
Jack was setting the dials of a pan-wave receptor, glancing at penciled
notes on a calculator pad. He continued to set up the reception pattern.
“No, sir. There is still a sequence of sounds at the beginning which
must be a form of call, because a part of the same sequence is used as a
signature at the close. With the commander’s permission I have used the first
part of that call sequence as a signature in our signals in reply. But in
looking over the records of the signals I’ve found something that looks
important.”
The commander said mildly: “What is it, Gary?”
“We’ve been sending signals ahead of us on a tight beam, sir, for some
months. Your idea was to signal ahead, so that if there were any civilized
inhabitants on planets about the sun, they’d get an impression of a peaceful
mission.”
“Of course!” said the commander. “It would be tragic for the first of
interstellar communications to be unfriendly!”
“We’ve been getting answers to our signals for nearly three months.
Always at intervals of a trifle over thirty hours. We assumed, of course, that
a fixed transmitter was sending them, and that it was signaling once a day
when the station was in the most favorable position for transmitting to us.”
“Of course,” said the commander gently. “It gave us the period of
rotation of the planet from which the signals come.”
Jack Gary set the last dial and turned on the switch. A low-pitched hum
arose, which died away. He glanced at the dials again, checking them.
“I’ve been comparing the records, sir, making due allowance for our
approach. Because we cut down the distance between us and the star so rapidly,
our signals today take several seconds less to reach Proxima Centauri than
they did yesteraay. Their signais should show the same shortening of interval,
if they are actually sent out at the same instant of planetary time every
day.”
The commander nodded benevolently.
“They did, at first,” said Jack. “But about three weeks ago the time
interval changed in a brand new fashion. The signal strength changed, and the
wave form altered a little, too, as if a new transmitter was sending. And the
first day of that change the signals came through one second earlier than our
velocity of approach would account for. The second day they were three seconds
earlier, the third day six, the fourth day ten, and so. on. They kept coming
earlier by a period indicating a linear function until one week ago. Then the
rate of change began to decrease again.”
“That’s nonsense!” said Alstair harthly.