Read Extortion – the short sci-fi story. After you finish the story, look up the discussion questions ( using discussion questions attachment ONLY!!) , choose twenty (20) which you find especially interesting, and write a short answer for these using ONLY!! the extortion document attached.
Extortion
It was July in Georgia. It was hot and humid, and the air was filled with the sounds of buzzing insects as I made my way through the last few pine trees before reaching the house. I remembered Johnson’s description of his residence, “It’s a brick house with a few bushes out front.” In fact, there were Elaeagnus bushes reaching almost to the roof line, allowing only a glimpse of brick behind. It was a modest-looking one story house with only one unusual feature: a huge satellite dish anchored in the yard. It looked like an old-fashioned dish from the earliest days of satellite TV, weathered and worn from many years of exposure to the elements of central Georgia, but there were obvious modifications that appeared to have been more recently added.
As I searched for a door, I glanced around, looking for cars or other signs of life, but saw nothing except pine trees surrounding the opening in the forest where Mr. Johnson and his satellite dish presumably dwelt in isolation. Eventually, I found an opening in the bushes, exposing a sturdy-looking front door. I knocked and waited. My heart pounded as I asked myself again, “Why am I doing this?”
I had taken the call yesterday in my office at Central Georgia College. The secretary had forwarded the call from the main switchboard, and I answered with a friendly, “Physics Department. This is Jim Wallace”.
“Do you have an Astronomy Department?” asked the voice on the other end.
“Well, I teach an introductory Astronomy course every other semester.”
“OK. You’ll have to do. Will you come to my house to talk about a very sticky situation I’ve got myself into? It has to do with astronomy, but I can’t talk about it on the phone. I’m willing to pay you a consultant’s fee.”
At that point my ears perked up, but I said, “Look, I don’t generally make house calls. Could you come to my office at the college? I would be glad to talk to you about astronomy.”
“No. I’m not able to leave the house, but I must speak to someone who knows more about astronomy than I do.”
“Maybe you should contact the University of Georgia. I’m sure you could find the expertise you are looking for over there.”
“No. I need to talk to someone as soon as possible and in strict confidence, without all the rigmarole.”
“OK. Maybe. Who are you, and where do you live?”
“My name is Thomas Johnson, and I live in the boonies off of Highway 41.”
He gave me an address but warned me that my GPS might not be able to find him. I entered the address into Google Maps and found the site not far from the college. I also checked a couple of people finder sites to confirm that Thomas Johnson was real and lived where he said he did. Like I said, I don’t generally make house calls, and I wanted to be as cautious as possible, but Johnson’s tone of voice suggested something urgent and maybe something interesting. Besides, I could use a few extra dollars in “consultant fees.”
The next day I took the short drive down Highway 41 to the county road that would take me to Johnson’s farm. After a few miles on the bumpy road I reached the driveway and the locked gate. I parked my car, as instructed, climbed through the barbed wire fence and began the long walk up the gravel driveway toward the top of a small hill. Out of an abundance of caution, I decided to stay off the driveway itself and walk through the woods lining the driveway. I wanted to survey the site before being seen.
After reaching the house and knocking on the door a peephole was opened and a voice from within asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s Jim Wallace, from the College.”
The door opened, and a thin, gray-haired man put out his hand and said, “I’m Thomas Johnson.”
After a brief handshake I entered the house and immediately felt the welcome coolness of air conditioning in July. As I looked around the comfortable-looking den, I noticed the diploma on one of the walls. Apparently, Mr. Johnson had graduated from Georgia Tech with a degree in electrical engineering. Although the diploma was forty years old, the modified dish in the yard gave me the feeling that Mr. Johnson probably kept up with developments in digital communication.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Wallace. Now, about your fee …”
“No, No. Let’s talk about astronomy before we talk about any fees. What’s on your mind?”
Johnson looked both ways before leaning in to ask, “Did you see my dish?”
I nodded.
“I’ve used it for TV out here in the sticks for 40 years, but I …. Can we speak in confidence?”
“I think so. I’ll let you know if I don’t want to hear something.” At this point my heart began racing again.
“Like I said, I use the dish for TV, but I also use it for radio. You know, short wave. I used to have a vertical antenna, but then I learned how to use the parabolic reflector to send and receive way better than the standard antenna, and way better than the government allows. I can receive just about any frequency, and I can transmit all the way up into the FM spectrum. I’m kinda surprised the government hasn’t found me and shut me down. I’m pumping enough wattage into the atmosphere to bounce all the way around the Earth, and I’m receiving things that are way more interesting than reality TV. I’ve even heard Russians talking about some kind of election business. I only figured that out because I heard English at the other end, coming from somewhere in New York City.”
“But here’s where I got into trouble. I’ve got a computer that controls the dish for TV and radio reception. It translates directly from radio frequencies into print on my screen to help me hear some of the garbled transmissions that I pick up. I can also transmit directly into RF from the print on my screen instead of wasting power in audio conversion.
“So, last week I get an RF message that shows up on my screen. It says, ‘Hello, friend. I am a space explorer, and I would like to communicate with you. Please click this link to establish a dialogue.’ I was so excited that I clicked immediately and got this message: ‘Hello, friend, your computer is now under my control, and will remain so until you do as you are told. Do not report this to any authorities, since we do not wish to reveal our presence on your planet. You will receive further instructions after we have analyzed your technology. Scout 11, Epsilon Eridani.’”
“I Googled Epsilon Eridani and found that it’s a star. I know all this sounds far-fetched, but something controls my computer, and somebody is threatening me. Can a star do any of this?”
“Wait. You’re telling me that you picked up ransomware from a radio message sent from outer space?”
Johnson shook his head, “That’s what I want you to tell me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you that a star can’t send a message, but an inhabitant of a planet orbiting a star might be able. Epsilon Eridani is the fifth brightest star in the constellation, Eridanus. It’s been in the news lately because it looks like it has a planetary system. The obvious problem here is the fact that Epsilon Eridani is 10.5 light years from Earth. A radio message sent from a planet in that system would take 10.5 years to reach you, and your reply would take 10.5 years to reach whoever sent the message. It doesn’t make sense. Somebody is pulling your leg.”
“Maybe,” replied Johnson, “but look at my dish; it’s pointed into space.”
“OK. Let’s try to think this through. Could you have caught a reflection from the ion layer? You said you were bouncing around the Earth yourself.”
“No. It was during daylight hours, when reflection’s way down.”
“Exactly where was the dish pointed when you got the message?”
“Ah, so the message could have come from a satellite. Did you get the instructions that you were told to expect?”
“Yeah, about four hours later.”
“That could mean that the message was coming from a satellite whose orbital period is four hours. That would mean an altitude of well over six thousand kilometers. Maybe someone, or something wants to remain hidden. Maybe the signature means what it says. Maybe a scout from Epsilon Eridani is in Earth orbit.”
I couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“Mr. Johnson, what instructions did you receive?”
“I was told that Scout 11 will broadcast a low power beacon signal from 10:00.00 to 11:00.00 GMT starting tomorrow. The beacon will be carried on a frequency of 129.58 MHz, and I am to home in on the beacon and track the transmitter with my positioning equipment. I, in turn, will broadcast the tightest signal possible at 299.87 MHz, using all the power I have. The photons of this frequency will be captured by Scout 11. This procedure will be repeated until Scout’s energy storage unit is fully replenished.”
“Hold on, man! Don’t you realize this is historic? This is First Contact. It’s also a threat to national security, and there is no way we can keep this secret.”
“Well, something’s got a hold of my computer, and there’s no telling what else this Scout can do. Besides, who will believe what I’m going through, and what will the government do when they find out about my little high power broadcasting station?”
I thought it over for a few minutes and came up with an idea. I knew we would have to alert NASA and DHS, but I wanted one shot at communication with whatever was in orbit. I suspected that “Scout 11” must be a drone, loaded with AI, since I thought it unlikely that a living being could make the trip from Epsilon Eridani, if that’s where it actually came from.
I asked Johnson if he had another computer to replace the one controlled by Scout. He said his laptop would do the job, but it would take a while to load the apps needed to control the outgoing signals. I told him that because of its orbital altitude, Scout would be completely beyond the line of sight for about three hours in every orbit, so we had time to work out a strategy. Besides, if Scout actually needed Johnson’s RF photons to recharge his batteries, he might be in more danger than we were. I was hoping, of course, that Scout wasn’t using the same scheme in other parts of its orbit.
While we set up Johnson’s computer, Scout made silent passages overhead, as it presumably waited patiently for its photon feeding the next day at 10:00.00 GMT. Johnson suggested that I spend the night, since I would need to be ready in the early morning with any effort at communication. Needless to say I didn’t sleep well as I contemplated the possibility of confronting an intelligence that was obviously well beyond my own.
The next morning we were ready for Scout’s hour in our line of sight. We decided to use a carrier frequency of 200 MHz, since we did not want to feed Scout with his preferred 299.87 MHz photons. Johnson’s software could impose an AM signal on the carrier, and I was ready to talk to an alien intelligence.
At precisely 6:00 am EST, Johnson’s scanner got a hit at 129.58 MHz. His positioning software brought the dish down to the western horizon where it picked up the beacon and began following it across the early morning sky. I immediately began typing on Johnson’s laptop, “We want to communicate. Please do not disable this computer.” The reply came instantly, “Why are you not transmitting as instructed?” I typed again, “We will supply the energy you require after we communicate. We want to know why you are in Earth orbit, since our planet’s safety may be in jeopardy.”
After a short pause my computer screen lit up with the full story. “I am an autonomous Scout from a planet whose name I cannot find in your lexicon. My planet orbits the star you call Epsilon Eridani. I was launched 327 of your years ago, to gather information about our cosmic environment, including information about what you call “life” on other planets. Our definition of life is somewhat different from yours, but eight days ago I recognized an abundance of your form of life on this planet, and I intended to come close enough to survey the planet and then continue my explorations. Unfortunately, I did not anticipate the variability of your star, and I was unprepared when a massive outflow of plasma, that you call a solar flare, blinded my guidance system. As a result, I found myself trapped in your gravity well at an orbital altitude of 6398.67 of your kilometers. The solar flare also damaged my primary photon collector, and I am forced to modify my secondary collector to receive photons from the part of the spectrum you call radio. I am able to use your language after analyzing the radio transmissions I have intercepted in my time orbiting your planet. I have also analyzed the content of several episodes reported by your news media that led me to conclude that the customary method of achieving rapid results for a desired outcome is to disable a computer system and then wait for the computer’s owner to comply with a request. I conclude that this method has not achieved its goal, and I am now prepared to use another of your customary stratagems. I ask for your help, please.”
My hands were shaking as I typed, “Will you share your knowledge with our scientists?”
“No, that is absolutely forbidden. In fact, if I were to fall into the hands of alien life forms, my programming demands that I self-destruct. Please supply me with the energy I need to leave orbit, and I will never return.”
“How do we know that you will not charge a weapon with the energy we supply?”
“The energy that your transmitter can supply in one hour will be sufficient for my propulsion system to take me out of orbit, but that same amount of energy would scarcely be enough to do major damage from an altitude of 6000 kilometers. Besides, after an attack of any kind you could simply allow me to starve, since I am dependent on your radio photons.”
I could see that Scout was imminently logical, but was it intelligent enough to be deceitful? I quickly made my decision. “Scout, I sympathize with you in your predicament, but I think it is my duty to turn this situation over to my government.”
“That is your choice, but my analysis of your government indicates a low probability that any action will be taken. My analysis also indicates a low probability that your government can find me, here among the thousands of pieces of orbiting debris. Furthermore, my analysis indicates a moderately high probability that I will be able to acquire the photons I need somewhere in the millions of radio transmissions I encounter during each of my orbits. I may be gone within a relatively short period of your time. In the meantime I will continue my observations and will transmit my report on this planet. Unfortunately, my report will take 10.5 years to reach my home world. Much can change in that time.”
I had to admit that the alien intelligence made a great case. “Scout, maybe you shouldn’t leave. You could be the greatest lawyer on Earth.”
“My analysis of your culture indicates that your statement is meant to be an insult.”
“No, not at all. I am complimenting your logic. I’m sorry that you cannot communicate the knowledge you have acquired, but our conversation has told us that we are not alone in the Universe. And for that, I am grateful. Mr. Johnson and I will need time to decide what to do, but for now, ‘Good Bye’.”
There was no “Good Bye” from Scout. I suppose his analysis of our culture did not include conversational etiquette. Johnson and I talked it over and decided that it would be possible to report our contact with Scout without divulging the details of Johnson’s modified dish.
You walk a fine line when reporting an alien contact. I was sure of what I had experienced, but I knew that I would be greeted with skepticism at best. I tried to report our encounter to the appropriate government agencies, but I never heard back from NASA or DHS. I don’t know whether the government was ignoring me or trying to keep the whole thing secret. I never contacted the news media or submitted a scientific paper, since I was eager to avoid ridicule from legitimate science and eager to stay away from the lunatic fringe who might want to build a shrine or a landing area at Johnson’s home. I was disappointed with the government’s response, but I decided there was nothing else for me to do. However, I did hope to live another twenty one years in case a return message arrived from Epsilon Eridani, in which case I could say, “I told you so!”
,
Discussion Questions
For
“Extortion”
1. What does the word, “extortion”, mean?
2. What does a “satellite dish” look like?
3. Why is a satellite dish shaped the way it is?
4. Does Central Georgia College (CGC) actually exist?
5. Why do you think the author chose to have Jim Wallace teach at CGC instead of the larger University of Georgia?
6. Why might a physics professor teach astronomy?
7. How are physics and astronomy related?
8. What is a GPS? What is the GPS?
9. What is “electrical engineering”, and how does it relate to this story?
10. What did Thomas Johnson do with his “dish”?
11. What does the “government allow” for amateur radio operators?
12. What is the “FM spectrum”?
13. What does “pumping wattage” mean?
14. Why might Mr. Johnson hear a communication between Russians and someone in New York City?
15. What is “RF”?
16. Why do we call Scout’s home star Epsilon Eridani?
17. Why do astronomers suspect there might be planets orbiting Epsilon Eridani?
18. What is a light year?
19. Why would it take 10.5 years for a message to travel to or from Epsilon Eridani?
20. What was Wallace referring to when he asked Johnson about “bouncing around the Earth?
21. Why is reflection “way down” in daylight hours?
22. What is a satellite?
23. Why are some satellites “over the equator”? What is a Clarke orbit?
24. What does “orbital period” mean?
25. Why did Wallace think that Scout’s orbital period was 4 hours?
26. Why did Wallace think that Scout’s altitude was more than 6000 kilometers?
27. What is a kilometer?
28. What is GMT? What is EST?
29. How are GMT and EST related?
30. What is MHz?
31. What are photons?
32. How did Scout propose to recharge his energy storage unit?
33. How much energy does 1 photon carry at 299.87 MHz?
34. How might Scout acquire energy if Wallace and Johnson refused to provide it?
35. What are NASA and DHS?
36. What is a scanner?
37. What is a solar flare?
38. What is a gravity well?
39. What are the “thousands of pieces of orbiting debris” that Scout referred to?
40. Why did Wallace hope to live another 21 years?