CHAPTER 12
Sunday passed in a daze. Michael couldn’t concentrate on any task. He drifted from room to room, forgetting why. Where his eyes saw walls and doorways, his mind’s eye saw the outpost in the depths of its watery hiding place.
Even without direct language, its message had been clear—the aliens had left Earth long ago, but they would return. If asked. They required an invitation—confirmation that the people of Earth were ready and willing to meet beings from another world. All Michael had to do was to press the sensor pad shaped to accommodate the palms of his hands, a shape that was to ensure that it was a human and no one else who sent the signal. Perhaps the pad would even take a DNA sample from him.
He had no right to make such a decision on his own. The result would affect
