Voice in the Ether
“Sir, there it is again,” the Comm officer reported,
hands sprinting across the colored dashboard,
a master of signals and capturing distant echos,
he flicked his fingers across the radial display,
up on the glass array the recognizable peaks
and valleys of someone relaying something
was plain to see, message in a bottle, of a sort,
buoyed on by radiation and waves of light.
“Try it again, but this time, route supplemental
power to reception. Let’s cup our ears, shall we?”
The captain touched a console near her hip,
“Doug, we’re suckling a little more from her teat
than you like, I know, but can you spare us a few
more minutes draw from core? Someone is trying
to say hello, from who knows how long ago,
I’d hate to miss out on what they have to say.”
A momentary pause and a monotone picture
of a smiling face backed by pipes stared back,
“Go for it, Cait, we have plenty in reserves,
let me know if they have the latest Cubs scores.”
A bit of laughter was shared on the bridge floor
at the comment, but ceased as changed polarity
lit up the comm-glass readout with total clarity.
All were staring at the captain, and the screen.
She sat down in the weathered command chair
taking a sip from a ceramic cup of hot coffee, black.