The beginning of an new science fiction short story:
Radio telescope time on the Coordinated Hemispheric Array cost four hundred euros per minute, so it was a good idea to double-check your coordinates before realigning the array.
But there were two reason why Ted Sarbanes didn’t bother to do so. One was that he was not exactly rigorous when it came to the practice of actual science, and the other was that he didn’t think it really mattered where the array was pointed, because he had no realistic expectation that any signals from an extra-terrestrial intelligence would ever be found. After all, mankind had been searching the heavens for radio signals for a hundred and fifty years without spotting anything.
Because he liked to hear the various random warbles superimposed on the background hum of the universe, he had the signal routed through the speakers. Because the signals received by the CHA were from so far away, they were very faint, and Ted had turned the volume up all the way.
So as the various dishes of the array began to lock in on the coordinates he had entered, all he noticed at first was a crescendo in the otherwise random sounds. As more dishes locked in, he was puzzled by what appeared to be a staccato rhythm to the growing sound. Then, before he could turn down the volume, a roar of static set the room vibrating before it blew out the speakers.