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was going to happen to, or on, the moon, then the origin of the message was probably extraterrestrial. The list of earthbound countries that could make something happen on the moon was drastically short, and none were likely to be coy about it—they would either tell the world what they were doing, or keep it entirely to themselves. So most likely, the human race had been contacted by an alien intelligence. But what was that alien intelligence saying?
    Peo recruited one of her Washington lobbyists to quietly ask around and see whether anyone she had access to in the government had received the animation—starting with the Senate Science and Space Subcommittee. From there, the lobbyist was to try NASA.
    A few days later, the lobbyist reported in. Yes, he was almost sure the government had another copy of the animation. His sources spoke obliquely about a “puzzle” sent to them by NASA that they weren’t allowed to talk about. It sounded like what Peo had described to the lobbyist—as much information as she would give him.
    Peo was right: it was with the Senate subcommittee with oversight of NASA and science funding. What threw Peo was that NASA was the original recipient of the animation. “NASA got it, and turned it over to the Senate subcommittee,” Peo said. “Why would they do that?”
    “I’m sure they kept a copy,” Conn said.
    “I’m sure they did. Look, the people at NASA, a lot of them—too many of them—are bureaucrats, but to a man and woman, if you asked one of them what they should do with a possible message from an alien intelligence, not one of them would say ‘Send it to the Senate subcommittee. They’ll know what to do.’”
    “Ask Gale who in the Chinese government actually received the animation,” Conn suggested. Peo did, but Gale didn’t know.
    “What about ‘FALCON?’” Gale asked.
    “We don’t know what ‘FALCON’ means,” Peo said.
    “Put your heads together,” Gale said. “Bring in others if you need to.”
    They showed Grant the animation next. Now they had three bright minds working the problem. But a solution still eluded them.

# # #
    Some nights later, there was a late winter chill in the air outside, and Conn was enduring restless sleep, She was just dozing back off when suddenly she gasped and sat bolt upright in bed. She knew the answer, knew it. With shaking hands she swiped away at her Wear and double checked.
    It was three thirty in the morning. She called Peo and Grant anyway. They grumbled about it, but agreed to meet at Peo’s office. Conn and a sleepy Grant were at Peo’s office door when she arrived. Conn had a moment of uncertainty. Her life may actually be in danger if this was a false alarm—Peo would kill her. But no, she had it, and it was big. She hustled Peo and Grant inside and shut the door behind them.
    “It’s an invitation,” Conn said, gooseflesh blooming as she said it out loud. “September second, 2034 is the time. FALCON is the place.”
    “And where is FALCON?”
    Conn swiped at her Wear. “Apollo 11 left a plaque at their landing site that said, ‘Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the moon.’ Apollo 17 left one that said, ‘Here man completed his first explorations of the moon.’” Peo nodded impatiently. “Except for Apollo 12, all the Apollo missions in the middle left plaques that were similar.” Conn showed Peo a picture on her Wear. “Apollo 14’s says
     
    APOLLO 14
    ANTARES
    FEBRUARY 1971
     
    “Followed by the astronauts’ signatures.
    “Antares was the name of their lander. Look, here’s Apollo 13’s, the one they didn’t get to put on the moon:”
     
    APOLLO 13
    AQUARIUS
    APRIL 1970
     
    “We had a plaque made up along those lines,” Peo said. For her moonshot, she meant.
    “Right.” Conn swiped to a ready picture of Peo’s plaque, a replica of the Apollo markers, which likewise didn’t end up on the moon:
     
    DYNAMIC AEROSPACE TECHNOLOGIES
    HIPPEIA
    NOVEMBER 2022
     
    Conn