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but Jean's recheck of the present co-ordinates and subsequent frown showed that she too had seen the anomaly.
    "Well?" demanded Dag.  "W hen you two have finished gaping perhaps you would enlighten us poor ignorant souls?"
    "The co-ordinates have changed.  The source has moved ," explained Jean quietly, as though she herself didn't quite believe what she saw.
    "But planets do move, surely that's to be expected ?" suggested Sergio.
    "Yes but not this much in only an hour ," retorted Geoff who was already punching the new co-ordinates into a calculator to establish precisely what movement had in fact occurred.
    Before the result could be given the control room speakers came to life again.  But this time it was not the familiar message that had become a part of control room life.  It began so gently and softly that only Dag Fransson heard it at first.  He slowly cocked his head to one side, unsure of where the sound was coming from.  Gradually Sergio and Jean too allowed their preoccupation to be disturbed.  Only Geoff continued with his calculation, oblivious to his surroundings.  Jean softly put a hand on his forearm and he looked up in surprise.  Then he too became aware of the delicate and beautiful patterns of sound now pervading the control room.  Ripples of sound were merging and separating, coalescing, and bursting in a kaleidoscope of harmony.  Yet there was an underlying consistency, a background of dependability underpinning the dancing chords, a foundation of solidity inspiring trust and confidence.  No-one spoke, or moved, or hardly dared to breath for fear of disturbing this beautiful and intricate composition.
    This was much more tha n music.  It was a completeness, a pure wholeness, each aspect of which perfectly complemented all the others.  Each part was dependent on the rest and the whole was dependent on each part.  The four stood transfixed, enraptured by de light.  Each was touched deeply; the chords stru ck directly at the emotions, by passing all reason and logic.  Each felt the same joy and enchantment, of hopes fulfilled, of fears dissipated, each felt the same sense of peace and happiness and each bathed in the experience.
    Gradually the volume decreased, the patterns melted into each other, slowly and quietly.  So soft was the conclusion that the point at which the transmission stopped could not be defined precisely, and the four stood together in silence for a while.
    Eventually Geoff sat down.
    "That was wonderful ," he said, his voice showing the emotion that he felt.  Jean wiped a tear from her cheek.
    "Never have I heard anything so perfect, so..."
    "Heavenly ?" suggested Sergio, but this time without flippancy.
    "Yes, heavenly, " agreed Jean.
    Dag walked over to the control console of the giant telescope.  T he signal monitor was still faithfully recording the frequency of the last signal received.  The readout was quite specific, one giga hertz.
    Of course , thought Dag, it had to be.
    "That was it, that was the message we've been waiting for ," he said, "and what a message.  What better greeting could there be than that.  I don't know anything about these aliens but I do know that we can trust them, that they want our friendship and mean us no harm."
    Jean added her own feelings.  "Yes, they have spoken to us more directly and clearly by their beautiful music than by any combination of mere words.  The message it contained could not be missed or doubted."
    Their pensive mood continued for over an hour, and would have lasted longer but for the communication console buzzing rudely for attention.
    Dag walked over and a cknowledge d the communication .
    " Mendeleev Observatory receiving, Fransson here, go ahead, over."
    "HQ , Arnold here. Did you get that last transmission?"  It was obvious from his eager voice that he too had been affected.
    "We certainly did, and we're still in a state of euphoria.  We didn't think to check the signal strength, were you able to pick it