01-01-00 by R. J. Pineiro

envelope.” She selected a couple of options from a pull-down menu and the powerful Hewlett-Packard workstation translated the billions of bits of data into an image of the faraway galaxy. She typed in the coordinates and a small red X appeared on the screen. “Right here. ”
    Ishiguro stared at the thousands of stars making up one small fraction of the vast constellation. “Zoom in.”
    Jackie clicked her way through a few more menus, not only directing the radio telescope much closer to the two star systems, but she also used a custom software package to enhance the magnified image, sharply improving its quality.
    Ishiguro stared at the screen long and hard, his mind considering the possibilities. But before he could contact Sagata and claim to have received an artificially generated signal from deep space, he first had to make certain that the signal was real by detecting it consistently from the same star system. “Have you checked our logs from—”
    â€œYes, and the answer is no. These two star systems are each roughly five times the size of ours, that translates to about six days of searching at fifty thousand ten-second hits per star system. We had finished our search in HR4390A and were two-thirds through the search on HR4390B when this signal came along. I’ve checked the logs for the search done to date and there is no indication of this signal ever being present.”
    Ishiguro nodded, staring at the monitor. “Well, let’s extend the search of this system, focusing on this frequency and start hitting around the point of origin.”
    â€œYou know that’s going to require a decision record to deviate from our standard operating procedure, and only Bozo the Jap over there can approve it.” She extended a thumb over her shoulder toward Kuoshi, speaking on a cellular phone at the other side of the room.
    Ishiguro smiled. “He’s probably calling Osaka to complain about your politeness, again.”
    She shrugged. “It’s not my problem that the chauvinistic pig doesn’t know how to treat a woman.”
    â€œHe’s not chauvinistic. He’s just Japanese.”
    She exhaled heavily, extending her lower lip as she did, ruffling the bangs dangling over her forehead. “Thank God Mother married an American. Had it not been for Dad, I would have been raised just like her, submissive, subservient, and spending the rest of my life washing your underwear, pressing your suits, and being your sexual slave.”
    He shrugged. “I like the last part.”
    She made a face. “Lucky me.” She reached for a drawer beneath the workstation and pulled out a blank decision record form. “Too bad right now I have to write a DR.”
    â€œI’ll get it signed off. Kuoshi’s just a rubber stamp around here.”
    â€œFor how long do you want the DR?”
    â€œTwenty-four hours. See if it surfaces again.”
    Ishiguro kissed his wife on the cheek and she patted him on the rear as he headed off to have his chat with Kuoshi Honichi, still blasting Japanese on the phone. Based on the look on the corporate liaison’s face, the scientist knew that it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

Chapter Three
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    1
    December 12, 1999
    There are certain events that have a profound effect on some people’s lives, when things may never be the same again. Marriages, births, divorces, deaths, even new jobs and layoffs become pivot events for many. Susan Garnett considered the untimely deaths of her husband and daughter such a transforming event, when life changed for the worse in a fraction of a second, altering her outlook forever. She began to measure everything according to this new perspective, finding that her world had indeed changed much since awakening from that long coma. The sun shone a little less brightly. The skies didn’t seem quite as blue. Colors appeared bleached, food tasted blander, sounds