Childish Things

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“I think it is time to go,” the humaniform complex prompted itself gently as it floated above the warm green world. “We can’t wait much longer.” The complex contemplated the planet’s attributes in ultraviolet, visible, infrared, and radio bands, wondering with each frequency shift at the beauty revealed. Here was the place of a civilization’s birth. Here was the cradle of science, philosophy, of literature, and art. Here was where a people had learned of their limits and possibilities, of their place in the Universe. It was a lovely place, an empty place, the sweet cradle of knowledge.

“We’ve confirmed that it’s definitely an ordered set of signals, using the protocol that you requested,” the Lunar watch office reported from the Clarke Bank late in the evening, Greenwich time. “We’re recording it on sixteen discrete frequencies, none of which have a common harmonic nor run afoul any of the absorption windows.”

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