She sent two times three, followed by the green light, a short and a long.

The cloud responded with a steady red light and six blinks. The green signal established itself as a question mark. It was only a short distance from there to I understand. And its reverse.

“So where do we go from here?”

She tried two times two and flashed five. The creature returned a single yellow light. A quick flash. On and off. Three plus one equals five got another yellow flash. So she had no.

She used the strobe. Kept it on for maybe ten seconds. I understand. She did two times two and gave the correct answer.

The creature did its yellow light again, longer this time. Yes.

GRADUALLY, DURING THE day, she built a primitive vocabulary. Plus and minus, up and down, forward and backward. She got inside and outside by sending out the lander, under Phyl’s control, and bringing it back in. Inside. Outside. Or maybe it was launch and recover. Well, let it go for now.

The creature varied its signals by intensity and length of illumination and by a range of hues to equate to Hutch’s terms.

To establish you and me/us, she dispatched the lander again, aimed its lights at the Preston, and sent her signal, three quick whites. Us. Then she directed the lander to spotlight the creature, and sent four. You.

It responded with a yellow-white light, and sent four. Then a puff of gas and dust blew out of the cloud wall, in the general direction of the ship. The yellow-white light blinked three times.

Okay. So we weren’t doing pronouns. It was names. The Preston was three; the creature in the cloud, four.

“Not bad, though,” said Antonio.

UNFORTUNATELY, SHE HADN’T gotten near the questions she wanted to ask. How long have you been here? Are you alone? Do you need help? Where are you from? Why are you sending bombs into the outer galaxy?

A bit too complicated for the language so far.

“I have an idea for alone,” Antonio said.

She tried it. Five. Pause. One. Then the signal she wanted to mean alone. Then seven pause one. And the alone signal again. And a third round. Using four with one and alone. Then one equals and the alone signal again.

When the creature responded nine and one, followed by one equals alone, she sent: You alone question mark.

The patch brightened. Yes.

Antonio gave her a broad smile. “Brilliant,” he said.

“You’re talking about yourself.”

“I know.” The smile got even wider. “We ought to give that thing a name.”

“I thought we had.”

“What?”

“Frank,” she said.

“THERE’S ONLY ONEof the damned things?” asked Jon.

“That’s what it says.”

“Is it responsible for the omega clouds?”

“We haven’t been able to ask that question yet.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to spell omega.”

He had no patience with her sense of humor and let her see it.

“Look, Jon,” she said, “the thing’s about as easy to communicate with as you are.”

“All right,” he said. “Do the best you can.”

“You’re getting as bossy as Matt.”

Matt’s voice broke in: “I heard that.”

“Hi, Matthew.” She had known, of course, he’d be listening. “Just kidding.”

“So you’re talking to the critter now,” Matt said.

“More or less. So far it’s been a limited conversation.”

“All right. I agree with Jon. Find out whatever you can. It would be nice to know what’s going on. What the reason is for the omegas.”

“I’ll ask it when I can think of a way to do it.”

“Okay. Meantime, you’re too close to the damned thing. I wish you’d back off.”

In another age, Dr. Science had bitten his upper lip when he was about to reveal why, say, no matter how strong you were and how well you could fly, you couldn’t support a falling plane in midair. He bit his lip now, while his eyes acquired a distant look.

“What?” she asked.

“It might be stuck here.”

“Stuck? How could it be stuck? I mean, if it can fire off omegas, it should be able to clear out itself.”

“Not necessarily,” said Jon. “You could be stuck in orbit somewhere but still send out, say, projectiles.”

“Wait a minute.” Matt tried to laugh, but couldn’t manage it. “You’re suggesting the omegas might be a cry for help?”

“I’m open to a better explanation.”

“That’s one hell of a way to get people’s attention. Get them to come rescue you by blowing them up.”

“I doubt it thinks in terms of people,” said Jon. “It might be that it would be shocked to discover there were living creatures, people, on planetary surfaces.” For a long time no one spoke. “It feels right,” he said, finally. “I bet that’s exactly what’s been happening.”

“For millions of years?” Matt was laughing now. “I don’t believe it.”

“Why don’t we ask it?” said Hutch.

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“I have an idea, but you’ll have to come in closer and join us first. Do we want to do that?”

AS SHE WATCHED the McAdams approach, Hutch wished she had a term for indigestible.

“We ready to go?” asked Matt.

“Let’s do it.” She opened the cargo hatch, and Phyl took the lander out again. Hutch turned on its lights to draw Frank’s attention, and ran it back and forth several times. Then she directed Phyl to begin the demonstration.

Phyl brought it back toward the Preston. Toward the open cargo door. Very slowly. And bumped it against the hull. Too far to the right. Backed it off and tried again. Too low this time. A third effort went wide left.

The lander hesitated in front of the door, seemingly baffled.

Frank sent a message: You question mark.

Antonio laughed.

Hutch replied no.

Matt asked what it had said.

“It wants to know,” Antonio said, “if Hutch is the lander. If the lander is the intelligence inside the ship.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It has no way to know what’s going on,” said Hutch. “Before it saw the lander earlier today, it probably thought it was talking directly to the ship.” She grinned. “I’m beginning to like him.”

“Frank?”

“Sure. Who else?” She traded amused glances with Antonio, then flashed the strobe. Three short. Three long. Three short. The old SOS signal. “Matt, time to send out yours.”

“Will do.”

The launch door in the McAdams opened, and its lander soared into the night. It crossed to the apparently hapless vehicle still trying to get back into the Preston cargo bay, moved alongside it, nudged it left, pushed it lower, and guided it through the hatch.

Hutch flashed the SOS again, followed by Frank question mark.

Pause. Then the patch brightened.

Yes.

“ALL RIGHT,” MATT said. “We go home and report what we found. We have intelligent plasma out here. Or whatever. They’re going to love that. It got too close to the core, and now we think it’s stuck. You know what’ll happen: They’ll be coming out here to talk to the dragon. And somebody will be crazy enough to try to figure out a way to break it loose.” He was usually easygoing, one of those guys with little respect for authority because of a conviction that people in charge tend to do stupid things. At the moment, Hutch was the suspect. “Well,” he said, “at least we’ll get clear of it. It’ll be somebody else’s call.”

“That’s not what’ll happen,” said Hutch. “Most people will react the way you just did. This place will be declared off-limits. The idiots who thought Jon’s drive was dangerous will be confirmed. And nobody will come near the place.”