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Crap. Why couldn’t he just let me leave it at ‘so close?’ “Not just yet, but once I get there?—”
“It’ll happen at lightning speed,” he says, quoting me from the last several times we’ve spoken about my AI project I lovingly call Frank after Frank Drake, the father of SETI.
“I know I keep saying that, but seriously, it will go really, really fast, and Frank is getting so much better at detecting repeated signals.”
Nodding, Keenan says, “What’s he detected so far?”
“A lighthouse off the coast of Finland.”
Keenan purses his lips and makes a little hmph sound. “That’s definitely some real progress, Allie.”
“Thanks. I know it’s not what we were hoping for at this point, but trust me, now that Frank’s done it once, the sky is the limit.” (That’s the astronomy equivalent of a dad joke, by the way.)
“Unfortunately, you’re still quite far from getting results you can test and verify,” Keenan says. “Whereas, aside from a few tweaks, Chad’s project is basically done.”
No, no, no, no, no. Not Chad. Anyone but Chad. Chad’s the assistant director. Think Dwight Schrute from The Office, only without the charm or sense of style.
Before I can protest, Keenan continues. “I’ve spoken to the organizers of the forum, and, unfortunately, we can only have one speaker. With the influx of programs around the globe since the last summit, we’d be there for several weeks if everyone got a chance to present.”
Crap. He’s saying no, isn’t he?
“I’m truly sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call it. I’m submitting Chad’s name as our team’s speaker.”
Don’t cry. Do not cry, whatever you do. I dig my nails into my palms and blink quickly while trying to smile. “Are you sure you can’t give me a few more weeks?”
“I’m positive. I know you were really hoping to make your mark this year and I’m sorry it’s not going to happen. Four years feels like a very long time when you’re young, but believe me, it’ll zip by,” he says with a knowing smile.
Four years feels like a very long time because it is a very long time. “It’s really not just about presenting at the forum. It’s about sharing my research and changing the entire way SETI researchers do our work.”
“And you’ll still be able to share it. Just not at the forum.”
“But if the Virginia team gets to present, everyone is going to use their system instead of mine, and I know for a fact, mine is going to outperform theirs.” Sitting forward in my chair, I say, “Can you just give me one more month, Keenan? One more. I’ll work literally around the clock. I’m so close. I know I can get there in time.”
“I don’t want you running yourself into the ground,” he says. “Remember, good science is not done in a hurry.”
“Yeah, but … in this case, it’s just so vital to me that I get a shot at it at least,” I tell him.
“Why’s it so important to you?” he asks.
Because this is my one chance to beat a lying sack of crap. “Because I truly believe that if implemented on a global scale, Frank is going to advance our project exponentially. We’ve always thought contact could take another four hundred years, but what if it could actually be achieved in our lifetime?”
He stares at me just long enough for hope to build in my chest. Then he shakes his head. “In that case, rushing it is most definitely a mistake. Take your time. If your system truly is superior, once you publish your results, people will switch over, even if they’ve already adopted the Virginia team’s system.”
“But—”
“For your own sake, the answer is no.”
Five minutes later, I’m back at my desk stewing about being given a hard no. My best friend, Gwen, floats into our office with Starbucks for both of us. “Good morning,” she says, just shy of actually singing. Gwen is madly in love with Ty Sterling, the billionaire who backs our program. She smiles down at me as she sets my latte on my desk, reminding me very much of Snow White as she bats her eyelashes. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d totally hate her.
“Thank you,” I say, picking up my drink and having a sip of the warm, frothy liquid. “Is there booze in this? Because I could definitely use some alcohol right now.”
“I take it your meeting with Keenan didn’t go well?” she asks, flopping down onto her chair.
I shake my head, tears pricking the backs of my eyes.
Gwen scrunches up her face. “Please tell me he’s not picking Chad.”
“That’s exactly what he’s doing.”
