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Simon broke in. Mahree saw that his forehead was beaded with sweat.
    "Do you realize how rich we'd be when we got back to Earth after confirming a First Contact? Media contracts, advertising, interviews ... we'd never have to work again!" The speaker was a portly, balding black man Mahree had never seen before. Raoul must have ordered the sleeping crew members awakened. "We can't ignore this! We'd be throwing away a bottomless credit balance!"
    Mahree leaned over to Yuriko Masuto, the Cargo Chief, who was sitting next to her on top of one of the galley tables. "Who's that, Yoki?"
    "Ray Drummond," the short, plump, almond-eyed woman with the waist-length ebony hair whispered back. "Paul Monteleon's assistant. This is his first trip with us."
    "But we're just a freighter crew," Paul was protesting in his quiet voice.
    "We're not diplomats, or ambassadors. We're not qualified to handle this."
    "If you leave it to the bureaucrats back on Earth, they'll really screw it up,"
    Rob called out, his baritone carrying easily over
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    the babble. "Besides, what if they don't believe us? Even if we decide not to pursue a contact"--he was fighting to sound calm--"we need more proof that we've actual y found something."
    "Who's the new kid, Raoul?" yelled the older woman.
    For a moment Mahree thought the speaker was talking about her, but then she saw Rob's face reddening as he stiffened resentfully.
    "With all the confusion, I forgot," Raoul said. "This is our new ship's physician, Dr. Robert Gable."
    Gable nodded, formally, from his perch atop another table.
    "That guy's a doctor?" Yoki whispered to Mahree.
    "Yeah," Mahree returned. "He's only twenty-four, but my dad said he's really good."
    "I'll bet," Yoki murmured, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "I can hardly wait for my next physical."
    "I say we keep our noses out of what doesn't concern us!" It was Evelyn Maitland, the older woman from engineering again. "Let the proper authorities deal with this!"
    "Hey!" yelled another woman from the back. "Where's your sense of adventure? Dammit, aren't you people curious?"
    A chorus of "I am!"s and "Let's go!"s followed her words.
    Raoul had to pound the bulkhead for order.
    "Okay, I've heard some very good points both for and against. Does anyone have anything further to say before I make my decision?"
    Mahree's hand shot up before she was aware that she'd made a decision to speak. Her uncle pointed at her. "This is my niece, Mahree Burroughs. Yes, Mahree?"
    The girl wet her lips as she stood up on top of the table, clutching the two computer flimsies she'd brought. "Uh," she began, only to have it emerge as a squeak. She cleared her throat, trying to look only at her uncle, not at all those eyes. "I just wanted to say that I think we have a ... responsibility, I guess, to investigate this. We can't just sail on by. Does anyone recognize these? I looked them up in my history files this afternoon."
    She let the flimsies unroll and held them up, one in each hand. From the murmurs and head shakings, it was clear that nobody did. "Well, this one here, the golden plate with the picture of the naked man and woman on it, that's a picture of the plaque
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    that was attached to the Pioneer 10 and 11 space probes. They were launched in 1970. This thing here"--she pointed--"that looks like a starburst is really a map showing the location of Earth in relation to a bunch of local pulsars."
    She dropped that flimsy and pointed to the other. "This one, the golden circle, is a container. Inside is a disk they called a 'phonograph record' with music, pictures, sounds, and greetings from Earth recorded on it. It was attached to Voyager 1 and 2, which were launched in 1977. Yoki is going to read you one of the messages, which was recorded in Mandarin Chinese."
    The Asian woman's voice was distinct in the silence as she haltingly spoke in liquid syllables. "That means," she translated, her voice not quite steady, "
    'Hope everyone's well. We are thinking