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She smiled at him, and began pacing the length of the rec room. "All right, here goes.

The meat of the message is…"

As she was talking, Don ran upstairs and called an overnight news producer at the CBC. By the time he returned to the basement, Sarah was just finishing dictating her report. He watched as Carl posted it to the SETI Institute newsgroup, then Don said, "Okay, hon, I’ve got you booked for a TV interview in one hour, and you’ll be on both The Current and Sounds Like Canada in the morning."

She looked at her watch. "God, it’s almost midnight. Emily, Carl, you should be in bed. And, Don, I don’t want to go downtown this late—"

"You don’t have to. A camera crew is on its way here."

"Really? My God!"

"It pays to know the right people," he said with a grin.

"I — um, well, I look a mess…"

"You look gorgeous."

"Besides, who the hell is watching TV at this hour?"

"Shut-ins, insomniacs, people channel-flipping looking for nudity—"

"Dad!" Emily had her little hands planted on her hips.

"-but they’ll keep repeating the report, and it’ll be picked up all over the world, I’m sure."

"We’d been so wrong," Sarah told Shelagh Rogers the next morning. Don wasn’t the Toronto sound engineer for Sounds Like Canada — Joe Mahoney was doing that these days — but Don stood behind Joe as he operated the board, looking over Joe’s shoulder at Sarah.

And, while doing so, he reflected on the irony. Sarah was in Toronto, but Shelagh was in Vancouver, where Radio One’s signature program originated — two people who couldn’t see each other, communicating over vast distances by radio. It was perfect.

"Wrong in what way?" Shelagh’s voice was rich and velvety, yet full of enthusiasm, an intoxicating combination.

"In every way," Sarah said. "In everything we’d assumed about SETI. What a ridiculous notion, that beings would send messages across the light-years to talk about math!" She shook her head, her brown hair bouncing as she did so. "Math and physics are the same everywhere in the universe. There’s no need to contact an alien race to find out if they agree that one plus three equals four, that seven is a prime number, that the value of pi is 3.14159, et cetera. None of those things are matters of local circumstance, or of opinion. No, the things worth discussing are moral issues — things that are debatable, things that an alien race might have a radically different perspective on."

"And that’s what the message from Sigma Draconis is about?" prodded Shelagh.

"Exactly! Ethics, morality — the big questions. And that’s the other thing, the other way in which we were totally wrong about what to expect from SETI. Carl Sagan used to talk about us receiving an Encyclopaedia Galactica. But no one would bother sending a message across the light-years to tell you things. Rather, they’d send a message to ask you things."

"And so this message from the stars is… what? A questionnaire?"

"Yes, that’s right. A series of questions, most of which are multiple choice, laid out like a three-dimensional spreadsheet, with space for a thousand different people to provide their answers to each question. The aliens clearly want a cross section of our views, and they went to great pains to establish a vocabulary for conveying value judgments and dealing with matters of opinion, with sliding scales for precisely quantifying responses."

"How many questions are there?"

"Eighty-four," said Sarah. "And they’re all over the map."

"For instance?"

Sarah took a sip from the bottle of water she’d been provided with. " ‘Is it acceptable to prevent pregnancy when the population is low?’ ‘Is it acceptable to terminate pregnancy when the population is high?’ ‘Is it all right for the state to execute bad people?’ "

"Birth control, abortion, capital punishment," said Shelagh, sounding amazed. "I guess those are posers even for extraterrestrials."

"So it seems," said Sarah. "And there are lots more, all in one way or another about ethics and acceptable behavior. ‘Should systems be set up to thwart cheaters at all costs?’ ‘If an identifiable population is disproportionately bad, is it permissible to restrict the entire population?’ These are just preliminary translations, of course. I’m sure there’ll be a lot of quibbling over the exact meaning of some of them."

"I’m sure there will be," said Shelagh, affably.

"But I wonder if the aliens aren’t a bit naive, at least by our standards," said Sarah. "I mean, basically, we’re a race of hypocrites. We believe societal norms should be followed by others, and that there are always good reasons for ourselves to be exempt. So, yeah, asking about our morals is interesting, but if they actually expect our espoused beliefs to have any strong relationship to our actual behavior, they could be in for a big surprise. The fact that we even need a platitude ‘practice what you preach’ underscores just how natural it is for us to do exactly the opposite."