Noncontact race

- They meat.
 - Meat?
 - Yes. They're made of meat.
 - Of meat ?!
 - Error eliminated. We picked up a few copies from different parts of the planet, were taken on board our ship reconnaissance and tested as follows. They're completely meat.
 - But this is incredible! But what about the radio? A message to the stars?
 - To communicate, they use radio waves, but do not send signals themselves. The signals come from machines.
 - But who build these machines? That's who need a contact!
 - They build. What am I to you and interpreted. Meat makes the machine.
 - What nonsense! How can meat make a machine? You want me to believe in the meat with memory and feelings?
 - Nothing, I do not want to. Just tell what is. This - the only intelligent beings in the whole sector, and thus consist of meat.
 - Maybe they are like orfoleev? You know, this carbon intelligence that goes into the development process meat phase?
 - Oh, no. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them in the course of several life cycles - which they, incidentally, is quite short. You are, in general, any idea how many lives meat?
 - Oh, spare me ... Okay. Maybe they're still not completely meat? Well, remember how these ... veddilei. Meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.
 - Oh, no! At first we thought so too. Once they head out of the meat. But then, as I said, each tested. From top to bottom. Everywhere solid meat. What's on the outside, inside.
 - And what about the brain?
 - A mind is there, all right. But also from the meat.
 - Where do ideas come from ?!
 - Do not know, do you? Thoughts produce brain. Meat.
 - Thoughts from the meat? You want me to believe in a reasonable meat?
 - Yes, dammit! Reasonable meat. Meat with feelings. With a conscience. Meat that has dreams. Everything - a real meat. Savvy?
 - Oh, my God ... Are you serious?
 - Absolutely. They earnestly made of meat, and the last one hundred years of its attempt to get in touch.
 - What do they want?
 - To begin with - talk ... Then, apparently, rummage through the universe, scientists go to other worlds and steal their ideas with data. Just like always.
 - So, we will have to talk to meat?
 - That's the thing. So they repeat a message: "Hello! Is there anyone alive? Anybody home? "- And other trash.
 - That is really talking? With the help of words, ideas and concepts?
 - Even as. Especially with the surrounding meat ...
 - But you said that they use the radio!
 - Yes, but ... What do you think, they clog the air? MEAT sounds. You know it plyamkane when slap meat on meat? That's how they pereshlepyvayutsya other sisters. And even sing, passing through the meat streams of compressed air.
 - It's crazy. Singing meat! This is too much ... And what do you advise?
 - Officially or between us?
 - And so, and commercials.
 - Officially, we are supposed to get in touch, to welcome them and to open access to the full register of thinking beings and mnogosuschnostnyh minds in the sector - without prejudice, fear and concessions on our part. But if between us - I would have wiped the hell out of all their data and forget about them forever.
 - I was hoping you'd say that.
 - Measure certainly forced. But there is a limit! Have we so want to get acquainted with the meat?
 - I agree one hundred percent! Well, we say to them: 'Hello, meat! How are you doing? "And then what? How many planets are already inhabited?
 - Only one. They can travel in special metal containers, but to live permanently in a way not. Also, being meat, they can only move in the space C. This gives them the speed of light - and thus the probability of entering the contact they simply negligible. More precisely, the infinitesimal.
 - So, we'd better make it appear that no one in the universe?
 - That's it.
 - Brutally ... On the other hand, you're right: who wants to meet meat? And those who were taken on board for testing - are you sure they do not remember anything?
 - If anyone remembers - still it will take for a psycho. We came to them in the head and smoothed the meat so that they perceive us as dreams.
 - Dreams of the meat ... Just think - we remove the meat!
 - And this whole sector can be noted on the map as a desert.
 - Excellent! I totally agree. Both formally and between us. Case closed. Others do not? What's more fun on the other side of the galaxy?
 - Oh ... One shy but cute individual hydrogen in the constellation of the ninth grade, the zone 445 is in contact a couple of galactic cycles ago, now wants to be friends again.
 - Oh. It seems, do they not get away.
 - Come on! Just imagine how cool would be indescribable universe we inhabit it alone ...




See also

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