* "They're made out of meat."*

* "Meat?"*

* "Meat. They're made out of meat."*

* "Meat?"*

* "There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts
of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all
the way through. They're completely meat." *

* "That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the
stars?"*

* "They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from
them. The signals come from machines."*

* "So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."*

* "_They_ made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat
made the machines." *

* "That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to
believe in sentient meat."*

* "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only
sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."*

* "Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence
that goes through a meat stage."*

* "Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for
several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any
idea what's the life span of meat?"*

* "Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the
weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."*

* "Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the
weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way
through."*

* "No brain?"*

* "Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is _made out
of meat_! That's what I've been trying to tell you."*

* "So ... what does the thinking?" *

* "You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what
I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."*

* "Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"*

* "Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The
meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I
have to start all over?"*

* "Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."*

* "Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And
they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of
their years."*

* "Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"*

* "First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the
Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."*

* "We're supposed to talk to meat."*

* "That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio.
'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."*

* "They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."*

* "I thought you just told me they used radio."*

* "They do, but what do you think is _on_ the radio? Meat sounds. You
know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by
flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air
through their meat." *

* "Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you
advise?"*

* "Officially or unofficially?" *

* "Both."*

* "Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and
all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe,
without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase
the records and forget the whole thing."*

* "I was hoping you would say that."*

* "It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make
contact with meat?"*

* "I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's
it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"*

* "Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat
containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only
travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and
makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim.
Infinitesimal, in fact."*

* "So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."*

* "That's it." *

* "Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones
who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they
won't remember?"*

* "They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads
and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."*

* "A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's
dream." *

* "And we marked the entire sector _unoccupied_."*

* "Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others?
Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"*
* "Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a
class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago,
wants to be friendly again." *

* "They always come around."*

* "And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the
Universe would be if one were all alone ..."*