Origin & Earth (The Orris Project Book 1), page 24
“This is why I finally accepted this place. There’s nothing I hate more than having to drive all of my clothing to a laundromat and spending hours there washing and drying everything. I had to do it the whole time I was in college, and when I got out, I promised myself I would never do it again. This is the best feature of the apartment, trust me,” he said, then took two more steps deeper into the hallway, opened the last door and flipped on the light. It was empty. The square footage of the room, like the others, was substantial. It had three windows, two on the long wall and one on the short, and also had a walk-in closet. The entire apartment was painted a dull, off-white color, except for the high-sheen, industrial gray bathroom. “This one is yours. It’s a little smaller than mine, but you have more windows and a much better view. You also have a big closet instead of two small ones.”
Garrett set his bag on the floor and pulled two of the beers free from the six-pack. He opened both and handed one to Mike. “This is fantastic. Cheers,” Garrett said. Mike clinked Garrett’s bottle with his. “Well, now that I’m unpacked, should we retire to the kitchen?” Mike laughed and nodded. The two walked to the kitchen, which had a large central island and four stools. The only thing on the island was a laptop computer and a small pile of unopened mail. Garrett put the remaining four-pack of beer into the refrigerator and sat on a stool. Mike sat on the one in front of the laptop, opened it, and pushed the power button. “I would like to buy one like that. Can you tell me about how much they cost?” Garrett asked.
“The laptop? Oh, this one is ancient. I’ve had this since I was in high school. It was expensive years ago, but they’re much cheaper now. You can get a simple one for four or five hundred bucks. Do you want cheap or good?” Mike asked, sipping on his beer.
“A cheap one now, a good one later. Actually, later on I might need one of the best that money can buy. If I can get the signals I’m after, I’ll need it to process them.” Garrett drank from his bottle and waited for Mike to ask…
“What signals?” Mike asked, as predictable as the sun rising.
“Signals that I’m very interested in studying. Are you familiar with radio signals that originate from deep space?” Garrett asked. He could tell he was getting Mike’s attention.
“Um, yeah, like FRBs? From way out in the universe?”
“Exactly like that, but FRB?” Garrett asked.
“Fast Radio Bursts,” Mike said.
Garrett laughed loudly. “Well, yes, if it’s from a surion, they would be very fast,” Garrett said. He did not know the word in English for quasar, so he substituted the Osan word, surion, which meant the same thing, without realizing it. Thankfully, Mike did not question him about it. “Excellent. Anyway, what if it wasn’t a burst, but a stream? An uninterrupted stream. Would that capture your interest?”
“Hell yes, like a communication?”
Garrett nodded, stood up, and swapped his empty bottle for a new one. “Precisely. Once I can get my hands on one of those,” he pointed to the laptop, “I can get my orientation and figure out the coordinates for the radio stream interception. After that, I will need to embark on the arduous task of finding some people with a powerful enough radio receiver willing to point it at the coordinates I suggest. And once they do, and I have my data, that is when I will need a much more robust computer to process it all.”
“You can use this one whenever you want,” Mike suggested.
“That’s very kind of you, but if they’re as cheap as you say they are, I think I’d like to keep all of my work on one of my own. I’ll probably even purchase one tomorrow, as long as I can sell some coins.”
Mike’s expression brightened, and he muttered an “ah,” sound. He looked down at his computer and started typing. “There’s not much around here, but hang on,” he said, reading. “Yeah. Why don’t you come to work with me tomorrow? There are a few places you can probably sell some coins, and there’s also a store where you can get a laptop for a decent price. If you can get some good money for your coins, we can go get some furniture for your bedroom after I get out of work.”
Garrett was nodding, “Yeah, that sounds great.”
“This weekend, I’ll take you down to the subway and get you set up. Once you have your card, you’ll be able to go anywhere in the city you want.”
8
The following day, Garrett set off on foot from the NASA headquarters building and into D.C. He knew that pricing the Roman coins would be a much more delicate and complicated matter, so he only brought with him the thirty-six gold Napoleons he had remaining after the sale of the two to Joseph Heller. He knew their general value; he did not know the value of the others but could research that once he had his computer. As for the Napoleons, the full retail price was just over three hundred and fifty dollars American, but that was the retail price. He calculated that twenty percent less than retail would bring him about two hundred and eighty-eight dollars each and decided he would accept two hundred and seventy-five for them but would not go lower. Mike had given him three addresses: Duvraise, which was mostly jewelry but also dealt in rare coins; the Jack Cann Pawn shop, which dealt in a lot of gold and silver; and Tim McInnis Coin Exchange, which, of course, dealt exclusively with coins.
He had a lot of time, and the three places were only a fifteen-minute walk from each other. He went to Duvraise first and was told they would purchase all, but only at two hundred and forty dollars each. Garrett kindly declined and moved on to Jack Cann. Jack was not there, but the young man who helped him said he would pay the two hundred and seventy-five that Garrett wanted, but only for five. The clerk thought it too big a risk to take all of them, as he was not sure how long they would take to sell. Garrett asked if the deal would still be good if he came back later and the man assured him it would be, so he left in search of Tim McInnis Coin Exchange.
The storefront and the space inside were tiny. Between the door and the single display case that doubled as the service counter, there may have been enough room for six people to stand comfortably. The merchandise in the display case was lit brightly, but the rest of the room was so dark that Garrett was unsure the lights had even been turned on. The size of the store did not surprise him, but the size of Tim McInnis did. Garrett thought him a giant. The man had to be seven-foot-tall or just under, mostly balding, but with a few gray strands of hair that he still combed over the top of his skull. His eyes were a bright, piercing blue, and although his forehead was smooth, he had deep wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. He wore a black button-down shirt, partially covered by a white apron, which surprised Garrett, not understanding what could be messy about the coin trade.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?” Tim’s voice was so deep it rumbled through the small room, seeming to arrive at Garrett’s ears in a series of sharp pulses as opposed to a smooth tone.
“Good morning to you!” Garrett said, and approached the counter where Tim stood. “I have some coins I wish to part with. A lot of them, actually, but this is a selection of them. May I?” Garrett held the satchel of Napoleons open, above the counter, but thought it appropriate to ask before carelessly dumping them on the man’s glass countertop.
“Sure! Let’s have a look,” Tim said. Garrett slid the thirty-six gold Napoleons onto the glass and Tim put on a pair of reading glasses. “Watch your eyes, this is bright.” Tim yanked on a pull-chain and the counter exploded with bright white light. He leaned over and looked at the four rows of nine coins. He flipped each of them over and a few times shoved his reading glasses out of the way so he could use a magnifying loupe he produced from a shelf behind him. Without speaking, he walked over to a computer and typed in some information. He returned with a small digital scale and placed it next to the coins. First, he gathered all the coins and placed them on the scale. “Hmm,” he muttered. He took them all off and weighed a sampling of them individually. Satisfied, he put the scale away and said, “Well, these are all real. Now that we have that out of the way, what do you want to get for them?”
“I sold two of them earlier this week for three hundred each,” Garrett said.
Tim smiled. “You sold them to a collector. They pay more. You probably could have got more for them. I’m a reseller, so I have to make money on them. I’ll offer you two fifty each for the lot.”
Garrett gave the appearance of thinking it over. “I can’t do that. I know what they’re worth, and it’s just not enough. I will move on my price, but not that far.” Garrett put his hands in his pockets and relaxed, giving the floor back to Tim.
“Ok, well, I can tell you I truly despise shady dealers, and I always do my best not to be one. These particular coins will not be hard for me to sell. But with that said, I will still have to do a lot of work to get them all sold. It needs to be worth my time. Give me a better number.”
“I would do two-ninety each. That leaves you a good amount of room to make some money,” Garrett said. Tim put his phone on the counter and opened the calculator application. He punched in the numbers at two-ninety and shook his head.
“I’ll go up to two-seventy, and that’s a big jump. That’s also a nice little stack of cash you’d be walking out of here with.”
Garrett didn’t just give the appearance of thinking it over this time; he truly was. “I would meet you in the middle, two-eighty each, and you got a deal,” Garrett said.
Tim went back to the calculator again, shook his head again, and punched more numbers in. Finally, he said, “This is my final offer. I’ll give you ten thousand in cash for all of them. That’s almost up to your two-eighty. It’s…” he keyed some more numbers into the calculator. “Two hundred and seventy-seven dollars and seventy-eight cents each.”
Garrett put his right hand out for Tim to shake. “Deal,” Garrett said. Tim shook his hand.
Thirty hours later, Tim had sold all the coins for a profit of $2,510. The profits steeled his positive opinion of Garrett, and the next time they met, Tim was happy to see him.
9
Surprise rose on Mike’s face when Garrett asked him how much his share of the rent was. They sat in the same coffee shop where they had first met the day before.
“Well, rent is twenty-three hundred a month. Can you pay half?” Mike asked.
Garrett nodded and said, “I can, but I thought about it a lot as I was walking. I can give you eleven fifty, and that would be yours. You can keep that and my position in the apartment will be secured. Or, I can give you double that amount, and we can go to the store and spend it furnishing the apartment. That way we’d be spending half of your money, and half of mine.”
Mike’s expression changed as he thought, interested in the idea. “That’s not bad. Will you have enough left to get a laptop too?” Mike asked. A small smile appeared on Garrett’s face. “Oh! Wow, you got paid, then?”
“I sold all the Napoleons, and I got a little more than I had hoped to for them, so yes, you could say that I did well today.” Garrett waited for the questions about his credit and credentials, but they did not come, so he did not bring them up.
“I already paid rent for this month, so what the hell, let’s go shopping!”
Two hours later, they had finished their shopping spree and drove back to their apartment with all of their purchases in Mike’s car, except for the items scheduled for delivery. In addition to furniture and kitchenware, they had purchased Garrett’s brand-new laptop. The one he decided on, with some urging from Mike, was the most expensive of the three he was considering and would be the only one he would need for everything, including signal processing. They spent more money than they had planned to, but Garrett covered the difference.
Once back in their apartment, and with everything unpacked, Garrett opened his laptop and set it up opposite to Mike’s, all while Mike was setting up their new sound system. As Garrett waited for the computer to boot up for the first time, he heard a haunting but pleasant sound coming from the living room, soon after, followed by Mike walking into the kitchen. “Music?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah, it’s a new album. This band hasn’t released an album in thirteen or fourteen years, so I was excited to hear it,” Mike said. Garrett listened to the music, surprised by its complexity but also by how satisfying it was.
“I like it,” Garrett said. “Can you show me how to use this? I have a lot of experience with computers, but none of this type.” Mike showed the basics of computer usage to Garrett, who picked it all up quickly, as this was not dissimilar to the computers he had used growing up on Osa. The doorbell rang, and Mike received the food he had ordered for their dinner.
Garrett ate and perused the internet, asking Mike a lot of questions at first, but fewer and fewer as he got the hang of it. After some time, he searched for the Clotz Ale website, and once he found it, he parroted a colloquial term he had learned from both Bill and Mike, “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked.
Garrett pointed to the screen with the Clotz Ale website spread across it. “It’s in Italian. I don’t speak Italian.” Mike grabbed the mouse and slid the pointer to the upper right corner where the language selections resided and clicked on “English.”
“Better?” He walked back into the living room.
10
Twenty hours later, Garrett had received and staged all the furniture, and Mike was getting home from work. When he walked in, he yelled out with joy and raised his arms up above his head. “This is awesome!”
Garrett got off the stool in the kitchen and joined him in the living room. “Good?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah, man. This is great. I ordered us some Chinese on the way home. You don’t have a phone, so I couldn’t call you, but hopefully you like beef lo mein. If not, I ordered a few other things.” Mike dropped his bag on the floor and marveled at all the fresh additions to the apartment.
“I’m not a picky eater. I’m sure it will be fine,” Garrett said, remembering the threads of dried meat he had eaten upon arriving on Earth. He walked back into the kitchen. “I found the coordinates.”
Mike joined him in the kitchen. “Speaking of the coordinates, I have a gift for you,” Mike said, and dropped a folded piece of paper on the island. “Open it.”
Garrett opened the folded paper and saw the name “Becky Ferris” and a ten-digit number. Garrett did not understand and conveyed his confusion to his roommate.
“Becky is in charge of a massive radio telescope in Alaska. She can get you your signal, if it’s there,” Mike said.
Garrett stood back up at once. “Call her!”
Mike smiled and nodded. “After dinner. It’s impolite to call at this hour, and we have a lot of work to do here. Let’s get as much done as we can before dinner gets here. After we eat, we can call Becky, then hopefully finish with everything before it gets too late.”
They set up the furniture, and the bell rang with their food delivery. Once they finished eating, Mike picked up his phone and dialed Becky’s number. As soon as he pushed “send,” he shook his head and said, “I forgot about the time difference, it’s only…” Garrett heard a faint voice say “hello?” on the other end of Mike’s call. “Hi, is this Becky?” Garrett could hear small sounds from the phone but could only understand Mike’s side of the conversation.
“This is Michael Potaglia, from NASA in D.C. I got your number from a mutual friend of ours, Vanessa Tolland?” Mike smiled. “Yes, she’s great. I’ve only just met her, but she’s already made my life at NASA much easier.” Another pause, and another smile. “Well, thank you. I hope it will. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is that I have a cousin of mine visiting from France. He’s an astrophysicist, and he’s telling me he has high hopes for a radio signal from a set of specific coordinates, and he wanted to know if it would be possible to work them into your rotation?” He walked through the kitchen, listening for almost a full minute. “Ok, sure, well if you would like, I’ll put him on. He’s standing right here next to me, but he is unnaturally shy.” When he said it, he winked at Garrett. “Ok, yes, one moment.” He covered the microphone with his hand and said, “She’s not sure when she can do it, but she wants the coordinates now.” He handed the phone to Garrett. Garrett put it up to his head the same way Mike did, and before he could say a word, Mike laughed and spun the phone a hundred and eighty degrees.
“Hello?” Garrett said.
“Hi! This is Becky Ferris. Michael told me you had coordinates for me?”
Garrett quickly moved over to his computer. “Yes! Yes, I do. I apologize, please bear with me for a second.” Garrett clicked through the different applications he had open until he found the writing pad file he had relied on to store the numbers he did not want to forget.
Once he had read the numbers off to Becky, she thanked him and said that it would probably be four or five weeks before they finished their current scan. Garrett thanked her and handed the phone to Mike, who ended the call. The two men then resumed their efforts to set up the apartment with all the new furniture and gadgets.
