Sarah used the scroller to quickly page through screen after screen of decrypted text; the message was massive. Gunter, of course, could read the screens as fast as they were displayed, and he surprised Sarah at one point by very softly saying, "Wow." After a bit, Sarah jumped back to the beginning, adrenaline surging. Most of the introductory text was displayed as black, but some words and symbols were color-coded, indicating a degree of confidence in the translation — the meanings of some Dracon terms were generally agreed upon; others were still contentious. But the gist was obvious, even if a few subtleties were perhaps being lost, and, as she took it all in, she shook her head slowly in amazement and delight.

Chapter 37

Don woke up a little before 6:00 a.m., some noise or other having disturbed him. He rolled over and saw that Sarah wasn’t there, which was unusual this early in the morning. He rolled the other way, looking into the little en suite, but she wasn’t there, either. Concerned, he got out of bed, headed out into the corridor, and—

And there she was, and Gunter, too, in the study.

"Sweetheart!" Don said, entering the room. "What are you doing up so early?"

"She has been up for two hours and forty-seven minutes," Gunter said helpfully.

"Doing what?" Don asked.

Sarah looked at him, and he could see the wonder on her face. "I did it," she said. "I figured out the decryption key."

Don hurried across the room. He wanted to pull her up out of the chair, hug her, swing her around — but he couldn’t do any of those things. Instead, he bent down and kissed her gently on the top of her head. "That’s fabulous! How’d you do it?"

"The decryption key was my set of answers," she said.

"But I thought you’d tried that."

She told him about the last-minute change she’d made in Arecibo. While she did so, Gunter knelt next to her, and began scrolling rapidly through pages on the screen.

"Ah," Don said. "But wait — wait! If it’s your answers that unlocked it, that means the message is for you personally."

Sarah nodded her head very slowly, as if she herself couldn’t believe it. "That’s right."

"Wow. You really do have a pen pal!"

"So it would seem," she said softly.

"So, what does the message say?"

"It’s a — a blueprint, I guess you could call it."

"You mean for a spaceship? Like in Contact?"

"No. Not for a spaceship." She looked briefly at Gunter, then back at Don. "For a Dracon."

"What?"

"The bulk of the message is the Dracon genome, and related biochemical information."

He frowned. "Well, um, I guess that’ll be fascinating to study."

"We’re not supposed to study it," Sarah said. "Or at least, that’s not all we’re supposed to do."

"What then?"

"We’re supposed to" — she paused, presumably seeking a word — "to actualize it."

"Sorry?"

"The message," she said, "also includes instructions for making an artificial womb and an incubator."

Don felt his eyebrows going up. "You mean they want us to grow one of them?"

"That’s right."

"Here? On Earth?"

She nodded. "You’ve said it yourself. The only thing SETI is good for is the transmission of information. Well, DNA is nothing but that — information! And they’ve sent us all the info we need to make one of them."

"To make a Dracon baby?"

"Initially. But it’ll grow up to be a Dracon adult."

There was only one chair in the room. Don moved so he could perch on the desk, and Sarah swiveled to face him. "But… but it won’t be able to breathe our atmosphere. It won’t be able to eat our food."

Sarah motioned at the screen, although Don could no longer see what was on it.

"They give the composition of the air it will require: needed gases and their acceptable percentages, a list of gases that are poisonous, the tolerable range of air pressure, and so on. You’re right that it won’t be able to breathe our air directly; we’ve got too much CO in our atmosphere, for one thing. But with a filter mask, it 2 should be fine. And they’ve given us the chemical formulas for the various foodstuffs it will need. I’m afraid Atkins didn’t catch on beyond Earth; it’s mostly carbohydrates."

"What about — I don’t know, what about gravity?"

"Sigma Draconis II has a surface gravity about one and a third times our own. It should have no trouble with ours."

Don looked at Gunter, appealing to the robot’s rationality. "This is crazy. This is nuts."

But Gunter’s glass eyes were implacable, and Sarah simply said, "Why?"

"Who would send a baby to another planet?"

"They’re not sending a baby. Nothing is traveling."

"All right, fine. But what’s the point, then?"

"Did you ever read — oh, what was his name, now?"

Don frowned. "Yes?"

"Damn it," said Sarah, softly. She turned to face Gunter. "Who wrote ‘What Is It Like to Be a Bat?’ "

The Mozo, still looking at pages of text, said at once, "Thomas Nagel."

Sarah nodded. "Nagel, exactly! Have you ever read him, Don?"

He shook his head.

"That paper dates back to the 1970s, and—"