The message had been surprisingly unambiguous, considering it came from an alien culture. Of course, they HAD had the 'Voyager' plaque to use as a standard, but what are you supposed to do when the first message you get from outer space resembles graphical IKEA assembly instructions designed to transcend spoken or written languages?
You do what they ask. A 'space station' put into orbit that resembled two shipping containers butted together, with a clear partition in the middle, with two small airlock pass-throughs installed. No life support on one side, whatever you wanted on the other. (And the graphic sequence for THAT one was a doozy.) Whatever you needed for docking on your side, leave the other one plain.
It was built, and launched – on time and amazingly under budget.
The thing was in orbit two weeks when an alien ship dropped in around Mars with a terrific flash, then zipped into place next to the Contact Station at a rate that left the astronomers tracking it dizzy. There was a flurry of EVA activity, and the alien craft grafted itself onto the bare end and the alien half filled with air slightly lower in pressure and higher in oxygen - a very good sign.
Cameras showed three very hairy starfish going in and out. The Russians launched the waiting Soyuz-V with an international delegation, docking with the Contact Station in short order.
And the hatch opened. The play started, all parts pre-scripted.
On the other side of the partition, two starfish were in isolation suits. The third shaved off some of its ‘hair’, put it in a vented container, then put it in one of the airlock chambers. On the human side, a volunteer unsuited, shaved a patch of scalp, stuffed, and stuck the container in the other. Both chambers bled down to hard vacuum for several minutes so atmospheres wouldn't mix. Then the starfish unsealed the human's airlock, and pulled out the container while the human did the same to the alien's airlock.
The alien lifted the container slowly, pivoted to the other two, then opened the container to what appeared to be a breathing orifice and sniffed deeply, paused for a moment…
And screamed a basso profundo note, throwing away the container and stuffing three of five tentacles into the orifice, digging and prying to the point where the flesh ripped and yellowish fluid spurted.
The other two restrained the third, dragging it back into the ship. The opening disappeared; the craft separated and headed off FAST the way it came. Just before it flashed out, one last set of glyphs were sent.
The astronauts looked at the unsuited volunteer, holding his container the way someone would hold a live grenade with the pin pulled. He swallowed audibly, and gingerly placed it back in the partition airlock and closed it - then beat all records getting back into his suit with the helmet on. When done, the container was put into a secure container - and all went back to Earth.
Translated, the glyphs essentially said "Biochemistries completely incompatible - don't call us, we won't answer." Earth scientists were puzzled - proteins spun the right way, test animals exposed to the hair were fine, and another (highly paid) human who sniffed the hair reported a faint minty aroma but had no side effects (other than boredom) over the course of a year in isolation.
The volunteer who's donated hair had such an effect pored over the reports while waiting for his isolation clock to run out. There wasn't anything else to do, there wasn't even cable, much less WiFi. Isolation meant isolation – plain, pure and simple. There WAS a weekly phone call, however.
"Jan, I sure don't see it. All I did was clip some hair and it may have killed him? Her? It? Whatever."
"Come on, Pete - don't worry about it. It's not your fault, we just did what seemed to be their first contact routine."
"Yeah, still.... Anyway, you got the list handy? I want to add a couple more items. Another toothbrush, some dental floss, some toothpaste other than that nasty stuff they've issued. Let's see - oh, some soap and some dandruff shampoo."
"Who ya dressing up for, one of your keepers?"
"Hah, just this stuff they gave me doesn't have selenium, and my dandruff's come back big-time."
A pause. "Oh, good lord... Pete, did you tell them..."
"About the dandruff? Yeah."
"Tell me you weren't using that before..."
"Well, yeah. Been using it for the last decade. Why?"
"Selenium? You DO know that stuff's poisonous, don't you?"
"And he sniffed... Oh, no."
"Yeah. But look on the bright side."
"What bright side? I may have killed the first alien ambassador ever!"
"True... but they didn't find us... tasty."