Getting My Space Co-op Term

I should have paid better attention to the directions, I know, but I was busy thinking about my strengths and weaknesses and how to convince the space agency to hire me in spite of my B- in Astrophysics, so, I had only heard “second floor, turn right.”

Now I was facing two doors. 

I paused, considering. I was still three minutes early. The stories about the agency’s epic interviews were legendary, so a pause at the last minute to consider and take a deep breath or two wasn’t a bad idea. One classmate said he’d been asked to do a flight simulation test for his admin co-op placement. Another said she’d been quizzed by a panel of 15 and then asked to do a series of vector determination equations on a blackboard while they watched. 

What weird test awaited me? And behind which door? 

One was probably a janitor’s closet, or a locked office, I thought, impressed with my own logic. Assuming I would guess right or eliminate one possibility, I grasped the lever handle of the door on the left and pushed down. 

Behind the door was a crowded desk, stacked with files, positioned in front of a large work area. I spotted microscopes and terminals, and what seemed to be a metal model of the solar system. A woman with grey curly hair sat behind the desk, and beside the desk, a younger man in a suit. The man straightened his tie, rose and warmly shook my hand. The woman gestured to a seat, barely smiling. 

Okay. I took a deep breath. Let’s do this, Neal. Lead with charisma.

“Hello,” I said, showing lots of teeth in what Ben in Career Services called the “opening gambit friendly smile.”

“I’m glad you could make it. Let’s get right to it,” started the lady behind the desk but the man made a slight gesture.

“Welcome, O’Neill.”

“Uh, it’s just Neal sir.”

The man’s eyebrows crept up a millimetre and he slowly nodded. “That’s fine, thank you for coming in, Neal. I know you have lots of questions, but I wonder if you mind listening to us talk for a bit first?”

I thought about this. Would there be a test? 

“Of course,” I replied, “May I take notes?” The woman frowned, but the man nodded warmly. “Naturally, naturally.”

“The agency takes this, and all contact matters, very seriously, of course. By the way, my name is Ryan Volker and this is of course Dr. Lana Corben.” 

“And which departments are you with, if you don’t mind?”

Contact with co-op students -- I suspected the fellow might be with HR. I had applied to three positions. For which was I being considered? I had expected a gang of interviewers, who would then parcel out the co-op interns after the interviews. Was this a good or bad sign, that there were only two? 

They both barely perceptibly straightened in their seats. “I am, uh, with central administration’s external communications division and Dr. Corben is the second in command of Project Epsilon Tango.” 

Epsilon Tango? I didn’t remember that from any of the job descriptions. Damn it! I should have read them more carefully. I wrote down “Epsilon Tango”. External communications… weird. Maybe that was part of HR? Or their human resources people were tied up. There were lots of co-op positions being interviewed for. 

I hoped to get a job like my buddy Alf had last year. He had spent four months idly monitoring a telescope at the observatory and noting star positions hourly. It had been the most relaxing job he’d ever had. Amie had worked here too, but her job had been rewriting technical reports and it was way more work. External communications… damn. Maybe I was being considered for a job like that? 

No way. My writing wasn’t that good.

I realized they were watching me jot notes expectantly, as if waiting for permission to keep talking. 

“Sorry, uh, go on.” Ben in Career Services had not exactly prepared me for this kind of interview, but he’d been adamant that projecting confidence above all else was key. I sat back in my chair, shoulders back and met Dr. Corben’s eyes. 

She practically gritted her teeth, glanced sidewise at her colleague, and set her jaw. “We have been monitoring the radio emissions from what we now know as the Perseus arm of the galaxy since the early 1990s. An amateur astronomer at the time had reported what seemed to be a pattern embedded in emissions. We expected it would be an oscillation in electrons, similar to what we have experienced from Jupiter. It does not appear to be.”

“Radio emissions - Perseus - 1990s - oscillation electrons,” I noted. My physics marks were really good. I could do things with oscillation electrons. Cool.

“Over time, this patterned emission has gotten stronger, as if it is approaching. It is early to say for sure but current indications are that these emissions comprise a -- uh, could comprise a coded message.”

“Coded message” I scratched down. Coded message? What? From space? There was a pause and I felt like they were waiting for a response. 

Maybe this was the test. Gulp.

“Perseus is a densely packed region, generally, right?” I hesitantly offered. That B-minus was haunting me, but I did remember most of the general geography of the galaxy. 

“Precisely.” Dr. Corben sounded relieved. She must want me to succeed. 

“With all the noise coming from the arm, it could easily not be a coded message. The human mind loves to search for patterns, and sometimes what appears to be a pattern is just a coincidence.” She now sounded triumphant. 

“But you said, it could be a coded message. Any idea what it says, or what might have caused it?” I took a chance that this was a logic test and she was trying to see if I could follow an argument through diversions. Our Philosophy of Logic professor had drilled us in this.

Corben and Volker both shifted uncomfortably. 

“The person who leaked this document has put us at considerable risk, you understand,” Volker stated. 

Leaked what now? I was confused. I kind of wish they would just ask me a standard STAR question. Ben had prepared me for those. “Tell me about a time when you…” My answers were ready.

“Uh, what kind of risk?” 

Corben talked over Volker now. “Risk of being wrong. We’ll look like fools. Risk of being right!  What if something is coming? How on earth do we prepare for that? We aren’t ready for a first contact episode! Do the Russians know about this?” 

As I struggled to understand exactly what was happening, a knock sounded behind me. 

A timid head popped in. “Sorry to bother, Dr. Corben, but we seem to have lost our co-op interviewee." She checked her clipboard. "Uh -- Neal, is that you?”

Corben and Volker’s mouths hung open as the efficient spectacled lady took my arm and pulled me to a standing position. 

“Oh, uh…’ I stammered. 

“Meanwhile,” the woman continued, “there is a Stanley O’Neill here from CNN who says he has a meeting with you?” 

A giant mustache entered the room, attached to a nattily dressed short man. “Corben, I hope you’re prepared to be transparent!” 

Volker looked like his head might explode. 

The woman pulled me from the room as I stuffed my interview notes into my cheap briefcase. I waved at the two I’d been speaking with.

First contact. FIRST CONTACT. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get to the observatory and tell Alf. I needed… I needed a summer job. Here. And with this ammo… maybe I now had an even better shot. After all, they would want to keep an eye on me, right? 

In the hallway, the woman pulled off her glasses and kept pushing me past the next door. “Wha-- my interview… but… where...?” I was unprepared for this. 

“Keep walking,” she intoned, with a slight accent. She pushed me into a stairwell. At ground level, she pulled me out the door and into a waiting car. 

“Now you know, Neal Jones.” 

The woman’s skin faded to a dusky purple, and her features melted slightly. She looked decidedly inhuman. I had gone from not being sure what was happening to being absolutely certain that I had no idea what was going on.

I just heard First Contact was coming and now… I was experiencing it?

“We have a job for you.”

The car drove down a dirt road I hadn’t noticed, and then accelerated and began climbing a hill. I looked out the window and saw the ground drop away. 

“It was easiest to let Dr. Corben tell you the start. The Tlairuwan are coming. Earth is not prepared. We are the Bjarnois. We need help. Our plant in agency HR tells us you are the best candidate.” 

Looked like my first co-op might actually be in space. Cool. 

“My strengths are I am self-motivated, detail-oriented and very responsible. You will not regret this decision!” 

I stretched out my hand to shake.