Don't Panic

I woke up alone this morning.

I hadn't really expected Sini, Kiva or Pax to be in the room, but I hadn't anticipated Skyla being gone too. Concluding that Sini must've come in at some point and got her, my next thought was to wonder why Sini hadn't awakened me. Had I been sleeping so soundly that she didn't want to disturb me, or was it that she simply hadn't bothered to consider I might want to know where Skyla was? I honestly did try to give Sini the benefit of the doubt – I mean, I am a really sound sleeper – but I have to confess that my feelings were still raw from the night before and, even though I tried not to be upset, I still experienced some nebulous bad emotions that I couldn't quite name.

When I discovered Skyla wasn't there, I crawled into bed again and attempted to go back to sleep. I should have known that would be impossible. I really wasn't tired enough to sleep any more, and lying awake in bed really isn't any fun unless you've got someone to snuggle with. Reaching across the space between the bed and bedside table, I touched the button on the top of my alarm clock. The clock's little synthesized voice announced that it was 6:13 a.m. Damn! Why had I awakened so early? And it was the rarest of days too; a Saturday when I wasn't scheduled to work at the store. I groaned.

My phone was next to the clock. I picked it up and, yet again, touched a button to call a synthesized voice to life. My iPhone cheerfully asked, “How may I help you?”

“Call Michael Brightman,” I said.

Michael would be pissed at me for phoning him so early, I suspected, but I needed to talk with someone and he was the only one I really wanted to talk to just then. In response to my command, my phone initiated the call. I could hear it ringing as I waited for my brother to answer. At least my phone pays attention to what I say, I thought bitterly and then immediately felt guilty for such a self-absorbed sentiment.

Michael answered on the fourth ring. I imagined a groggy-sounding greeting. What I got was, “Tyler! Are you okay?”

“What?” I said, caught off guard at the unexpected note of concern in my brother's voice. “I'm fine. I mean...not really, but ...how did you even know it was me?”

“Caller ID,” Michael said. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“More or less,” I said. “I'm not sick or anything.”

“Oh,” he said, all the worry draining instantly from his tone. “Okay. So, if nothing's wrong, then why the hell are you calling me at this god-awful hour?”

“I didn't say nothing was wrong. A lot of things are wrong. It's just not an emergency.”

“So, it could have waited?”

I sighed. “I guess, but I was awake and I needed to talk, so...”

“So you decided to wake me up too.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Anyway, now that we're both awake, do you want to go for breakfast?”

“What? No...hell, no. Josh and I were out last night and I'm totally trashed. I'm pretty sure eating right now would be a really bad idea.”

“Coffee,” I said. “You could meet me for coffee.”

“I could,” Michael conceded, “But that would require dragging my ass out of bed and putting on clothes and...you know, leaving the apartment.”

“I have to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Me and Sini, and...other stuff.”

“Trouble in Paradise?” said my brother in his most snarky tone. “I can't help with that. I suck at relationships, remember?”

“Look, Michael, I'm sorry I said that. You know I didn't mean it.”

“Sure you did, and it's true anyway.”

“I need to see you,” I said. “It's really important.”

“Why can't you just tell me on the phone?” Michael said. “That way, neither one of us has to get up. I know you're still in bed, too.”

“How could you know that?”

“It's six o'clock on a Saturday, isn't it?”

I sighed and rolled onto my back. “Okay, yeah, I'm still in bed. I'd rather talk in person, but if you don't want to get up, I guess we can do this on the phone.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “So, tell me what's so important that you had to call me this early on a Saturday.”

“I slept alone last night,” I said. I just blurted that out and I have no idea why. It was hardly the way I'd intended to start.

To my utter astonishment, Michael laughed. “Oh my God...really? Is that it?”

“What do you mean, is that it?”

“You slept alone. Big deal.”

“It is a big deal and it's not funny!”

“Tyler, are you listening to yourself right now?” Michael said. “Can you hear how freaked out you sound?”

“Maybe I sound freaked out because I am freaked out.”

“Why? Did you and Sini have a fight or something?”

“No,” I said.

“Is there another guy?”

“No.”

“You're not seeing another woman, are you? No, wait...dumb question. Forget I asked that. Is Sini seeing another woman?”

“No!” I said. “If you're not going to take this seriously, I'm hanging up.”

“Hey, I'm taking it seriously. Besides, you called me, remember? I don't care if you hang up. I'm not the one who's apparently desperate to talk.”

“There's a lot going on around here. I need an objective opinion.”

“Because I'm so objective, right?” Michael said, but then he seemed to soften up a little bit and amended, “Listen, why don't you take a deep breath and start over? Tell me what's really going on over there.”

I did take a deep breath. In fact, I had to take a few of them before I tried to continue. Sadly, my second attempt at an explanation of the cause of my distress wasn't any better than my first one. “There are aliens sleeping in our living room!”

“Sini?”

“Yes...but other aliens,” I said. “Sini's brother and Pax's family. They showed up yesterday and the whole place is in a state of chaos...and I...I think Sini is going to leave with them.”

“Oh,” said Michael.

“I don't know what to do.”

“When are they leaving?”

“I don't know.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “I was planning to come over there this evening to see the kids anyway. Can you wait till then for us to talk? Like, they're not going to beam up to their spaceship right after lunch or something, are they?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“Just...don't panic,” Michael said. “I'll see you later, I promise.”

“Okay,” I said.

I didn't feel all that much better after my conversation with my brother. 'Don't panic' wasn't exactly the advice I'd wanted from him. I'd expected something a bit more substantial. I mean, I could've gotten 'Don't panic' by reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Now that I'm thinking about it, Hitchhiker's Guide might've been the more appropriate source of wisdom in that particular situation anyway. Just then, I thought I could appreciate how Arthur Dent must have felt during his adventures with Ford Prefect. Most of what was happening around me clashed violently with my concept of normalcy, yet the situation was too intimate and tangible for me to deny that it was real.

People from another planet were sleeping in our living room.

It was definitely one of those moments in which I had to decide between going crazy or going with the flow. Go with the flow...for now, said the part of my consciousness that struggles to keep me sane. You can think about losing your mind after you've taken your medication and had breakfast.

Good old voice of reason...what would I do without it?

Concluding that it was pointless to stay in bed any longer and that I'd probably cope better with the day ahead if I had a healthy dose of caffeine coursing through my bloodstream along with my usual cocktail of doctor-prescribed chemicals, I got out from under the blankets and headed for the kitchen.

It was strangely quiet downstairs. I didn't hear any sounds at all from the living room, which could only mean the Erisans were already up and moving...but where were they? The only voices I detected as I approached the kitchen belonged to Pax and Dylan. That didn't surprise me. Dylan is often in charge of breakfast because he's one of our household's habitual early risers. Pax usually gets up early too. He's the quintessential morning person who wakes up fully alert and ready to go.

I am not a morning person. I shuffled into the kitchen and announced my presence with “Coffee, please.”

Dylan laughed. “A little early for you to be out of hibernation, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing at the kinked muscles in the back of my neck. “Look at me, out of bed before nine o'clock on my day off, and it isn't even because of a screaming baby demanding a diaper change. Ironic, huh?”

Pax made a noise like, “Eeeww!” and fell dramatically to the floor. “Diapers! Gross!”

“I hope you don't do that when you grow up and have kids, Pax,” Dylan said.

“I not going to have any kids,” Pax informed us, and hopped up from his 'faint'. “Or maybe I have kids, but my partners take care of them because I going to fly into space.”

“The man with the plan, eh?” Dylan said.

“Yes,” Pax said. “I the man. That what Xander always says. I the man.”

“I'm not sure Xander is the best role model for your future, Pax,” I said.

“I don't need a model,” Pax said. “I know how to roll already. See?” He dropped to the floor again and, presumably, began to tumble around. “This the way I roll!”

“Nice,” I said.

Dylan was still laughing. “You've got to give him points for effort.”

“Where are Sini and the girls?” I said, deciding it was probably best not to make too much fuss about Pax's obvious showing off.

“Sini and Rommie decided to go out for breakfast,” Dylan said. “They packed up all the kids and went downtown. Rommie said something about Sini needing to have a girl talk, whatever that means. They left around six o'clock.”

At least somebody's having a meaningful conversation with Sini, I thought. I said, “Sini got Skyla up before six o'clock?”

“Depends on what you mean by 'up'. Skyla was pretty much asleep on her feet from what I could tell. Cleo and Jack were ready to go, though. Seriously, those kids take after Rommie. I swear that woman gets up before the crack of dawn every day.”

“Says the guy who's wide awake at this horrendous hour on a Saturday,” I said. “So, where's everybody else?”

“I right here!” Pax said.

Dylan said, “You mean our everybody, or...?”

It being 6:45 on a Saturday morning, I could pretty much predict where 'our everybody' would be. Most of our roommates would be asleep, or at least lying around in bed. Beau would be on Dylan's computer, fighting his dyslexia to write an email to his little brother before going to his job at the supermarket. Hunter would be creeping home from wherever she'd been last night, and should soon be making an appearance in the kitchen to eat up any meat that might be left over from last night's dinner.

I said to Dylan, “Our alien visitors.”

“They're outside,” he said.

“Outside?” If I could have stared at him in shock, I probably would have. As it was, I felt my eyes widen and I think my jaw muscles might've gone a bit slack. “Are you saying we've got four Erisans outside...on Prince Edward Island in the middle of March?”

“Yeah.”

“Are they naked?”

“I'm pretty sure their only flavour is plain. I don't think they've ever heard of all-dressed.”

“You're a real comedian, Dylan,” I said. “Let's just hope none of our neighbours looks out the window and sees them out there. What are they doing, anyway?”

“Playing, I think,” said Dylan.

I crossed the kitchen and went over to the back door. Opening the door a bit, I stuck my head out so I could hear our friends in the yard. I didn't have to strain my ears. Immediately I opened the door I could hear them playing. They were laughing and chirping and making all kinds of other sounds I'd never observed before. Judging by where all the noises were coming from, it sounded as if one of them might be up a tree or maybe on the roof of the garden shed. Another one was squeaking frantically. The squeaks were high-pitched, so I thought that one was probably Suvi, or possibly Jex. The other two seemed to be running around.

I tried to picture the scene; four tall, naked aliens cavorting in the snow, the sharp March breeze making their long hair fly around their heads like flags. I imagined their blue or green skin would be bright – and highly noticeable – against the white snow. Part of me was desperate to be able to see them, but another part of me just wished they'd hustle their green and blue asses back into the house before somebody on our street called the police.

Then, as I stood there listening, it suddenly occurred to me. There was something not quite right about the noises they were making.

Now, before you all start to suggest there's no possible way I could know what are the right noises for Erisans to make, let me try to clarify this. It's not that I thought the noises themselves were wrong, but it was the way they were making them that seemed off. All the sounds were extremely high-pitched, even the ones made by Piri, who I presumed was the one up in the tree or wherever. It might have been my imagination, but I got the impression that our visitors weren't merely excited to see snow. They were frenetic. They seemed agitated, as if they had more energy than they knew what to do with and they had to burn it off as fast and as wildly as they could.

I came back inside and shut the door. Turning toward Dylan, I said, “What's wrong with them?”

“You noticed that.”

“Noticed it? Four grown-up people from a tropical planet are out there running around bare-ass naked in the snow and screaming like little kids who just found out school's cancelled. I'm sure that's not normal.”

Dylan was quiet for several seconds, but finally he said, “They got into the coffee.”

“Sini drinks coffee, but it doesn't make her act like that.”

'Yeah, she drinks it,” Dylan said. “These guys just ate the coffee beans without bothering to grind them and brew them first.”

“Should I be afraid to ask how many coffee beans they ate?”

“Uh...probably,” Dylan said. He placed something in my hand. “This was full yesterday.”

I examined the object Dylan had given me and realized it was a plastic bag. I guessed this was the remains of the large packet of coffee beans Sapphire had bought only last week which, when it was full, had weighed a couple of kilograms. I held the bag out to Dylan. “They ate all these?”

“I said not to!” Pax exclaimed. “I said they supposed to make a drink out of it, but Kiro say he the expert on Earth stuff.”

“Some expert,” Dylan said.

“I tell him that I the expert because I live here,” Pax insisted. “I said if they eat the coffee, they get sick, but nobody listen! Then Dylan came in and nobody listen to him either.”

“Do you think they'll get sick?” I said.

“Probably Jex get sick. He get sick all the time,” Pax said. “Piri says Jex delicate, but Suvi call it something else.”

I didn't really want to explore the dynamics of Pax's parents' relationship, so I said, “If they do get sick, what should we do?”

“Suvi a Healer,” Pax said. “She know what to do.”

“A Healer? Your mother's a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“For people?”

Pax giggled. “That a silly question, Tyler. Of course she a doctor for people.”

“Well, she could be a doctor for animals, like your Grandpa is. I just thought I'd better check.”

“She definitely a doctor for people. She work in a medical centre, and if you have an emergency, you go there. Like, if you fall out of a tree or if you accidentally swallow a rock, she know what to do to fix you.”

“I...see,” I said, making a mighty effort not to laugh.

Dylan wasn't nearly as successful at keeping his amusement to himself. “Pax, how did you accidentally swallow a rock?”

“It was a small rock,” Pax said.

“Yeah...but how?”

Pax sighed. “It a very long story.”

That response only caused Dylan to laugh harder. For my part, I could easily imagine numerous scenarios in which a young child accidentally swallows a rock. If the child in question happened to be anything like my nephew Jack, who is constantly playing in the dirt, swallowing a small rock by accident wouldn't really be outside the realm of possibility.

Neither Dylan nor I asked Pax to elaborate on his rock-swallowing incident. We turned our attention to preparing something for breakfast. I was highly dissatisfied that I had to drink tea with my scrambled eggs and toast but, circumstances being what they were, it wasn't like there was much of a choice.

Our wayward alien visitors found their way inside just as we were clearing the dishes from the table. They were all very cold, and Kiro asked if we could give them some hot water to drink. That seemed like an easy enough request. All of us should know by now, however, that 'simple situation' and 'alien visitor' do not belong in the same sentence.

While I was washing the dishes, and Dylan was boiling water in the kettle and attempting to explain to Kiro where our electricity comes from, Piri got into the cabinets. He discovered Pop-Tarts, which he promptly determined to be “good Earth food!” He shared them with his spouses, who seemed to agree with his assessment of the inherent goodness of toaster pastry. This would have been perfectly okay if they'd each eaten one Pop-Tart, but they didn't limit themselves to one each. Even Pax's frantic decree that, “Too much sugar is bad for you!” – a truly unexpected statement from him – was not enough to deter them. By the time they were done, not only were we a coffee-less household, but we suffered from a distinct lack of Pop-Tarts as well.

I don't think I need to tell you that the end result of our visitors' feasting on coffee beans and Pop-Tarts was not pretty. The crash after a caffeine and sugar high of that magnitude was horrible, to say the least. As Pax had predicted, they got sick. 

 

Suvi and Piri endured it stoically enough, but Kiro and Jex didn't. Kiro moaned and groaned theatrically and, in between bouts of nausea, declared loudly and repeatedly in English that Earth people had tried to kill him. He was getting no sympathy from his sister. When Sini got home and discovered what had happened, she told Kiro in no uncertain terms that it was his own fault he was sick and that he was stupid for not listening to Pax's warning about eating the coffee beans. Kiro responded by groaning, then he announced that he was going to throw up and dashed outside without another word.

For most of the morning Jex lay on the couch, whimpering pitifully. Pax's assessment of the situation was that Jex was in pain and that he was cold, unhappy and scared. This, Pax said, was not an unusual state of affairs as Jex was often ill and always behaved as if he were dying, no matter the mildness or severity of the illness.

“Suvi say Jex not that sick. She say it all just a big game,” Pax concluded. “She say Jex do it for attention.”

If that was Jex's strategy, it was working splendidly. Despite Piri's own obvious discomfort he fussed incessantly over Jex, a fact which seemed to annoy Suvi quite a lot. At one point, as I was passing through the living room, I overheard her talking to them and I certainly didn't need a translator to know she was mad. If the tone of her words wasn't convincing enough, her intimidation noise confirmed it. I don't think her fit of temper had the desired result, though, because Jex started crying and Piri immediately went to comfort him. Suvi let out a growl of frustration and stomped away from them. She commented irritably to me, “They bad. Husbands very bad.”

I wanted to say, Ever ask them how they feel about wives?

I have to admit, I was with Jex and Piri on this one. Sure, they were carrying on a bit melodramatically, but I didn't see any good reason for her to yell at them. They were sick, and everyone knows yelling is not good for sick men. They had each other for moral support in dealing with their wife, though, which was more than I could say for myself. I'm completely on my own in dealing with mine.

What I actually said to Suvi was, “Do you need anything? Can I help you?”

“Help?” she echoed, sounding incredulous. “You make husbands sick. You no help.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “I wasn't the rocket scientist who told them it was okay to eat two kilograms of coffee beans and then roll around naked in the snow. You can blame Kiro for that.”

“Kiro bad,” Suvi judged. “Earth bad. It all bad. We go ship. It all good.”

“You didn't have to come here, you know. You can go back to your ship any time you want.”

She didn't reply for several seconds, and I wondered if she'd understood even half my words. At length she said, “Pax here. We come.”

“Yeah. Well, as long as you don't–” I began, but stopped just short of saying aloud what had sprung into my mind. Yeah, it's fine that you're here, and it'll continue to be fine as long as you don't fly off with Pax and Sini and my girls.

It was unfair of me to think that, I know. Pax really belongs with his parents, among his own people. He needs things that we can't give him, and it would be totally selfish for me to expect his parents to leave him here just because I love him and would miss him if he left. Still, the idea of letting Pax go is just as awful for me as the thought of Sini leaving.

The silence between Suvi and I became a little awkward as it stretched into several seconds. I'd almost made up my mind to excuse myself and walk away when she spoke.

“I feel...you afraid,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said.

Then she touched me, something she'd declined to do yesterday even though I'd given my permission for her to do it. She traced her fingertips gently down the side of my face, and her skin against mine felt dry and cool, just like like Pax's and Sini's. “Your mind like Erisan mind.”

“I don't understand,” I said.

“I feel you,” she said. “No feel others.”

“You can feel me, but you can't feel other Earth people?”

“Yes. Sini and Kiro same.”

“Pax and Piri can feel me too,” I said. “And Jex can feel me, can't he?”

“You different,” she said. “Piri and Pax strong. They feel all people. Erisan people only feel Erisan, but you different.”

“Pax and Piri can feel all Earth people but you can only feel me, and you're saying most Erisans are like you?” I struggled to interpret what she was trying to tell me. “You're saying that you and Kiro and Sini can feel me because it is me who's different?”

“Yes,” Suvi said, although I'm not sure she fully comprehended what she was saying 'yes' to.

“How am I different than other Earth people?” I asked.

She made a sound of frustration. “I no words,” she said. “Ask Sini. She tell.”

“Okay,” I said.

I have to say, I was highly intrigued by the notion that it was something unusual about me that made Sini able to sense my feelings. I'd never imagined myself as someone with an unusual mind, and I couldn't even begin to guess what actually made my mind different from the mind of any other average Earth person, but I was definitely curious to find out. Hopefully, Sini would be able to tell me. She'd never mentioned anything about it before, and I'd always assumed she could read my emotions by virtue of our close bond. I'll confess I felt just a little let down to learn that wasn't the case, because I really like the idea of our relationship being unique and special, but my disappointment did not in any way outmatch my desire to understand what was really going on.

It was only after the sound of Suvi shuffling her bare feet on the hardwood floor alerted me to the fact she was still standing in front of me that I realized I'd gotten lost in my own thoughts. I wondered if Suvi was waiting for me to continue our conversation or if perhaps she needed something.

Taking a guess that she wasn't really interested in talking with me any more, I said. “Suvi, what do you need?”

She seemed to be deliberating for several seconds, but then she replied. “Water.”

“You want water? Okay. I can do that. Come with me.”

She followed me out to the kitchen and hovered at my elbow while I filled a large glass with water. She was fascinated by the process, although I couldn't imagine why. Eris is a technologically advanced world, and I know from what Sini has told me that indoor plumbing is just as commonplace for them as it is for us. I wanted to ask Suvi why she was so curious about my filling a glass with tap water, but I knew I'd just confuse her if I did, so I kept my own curiosity to myself.

I put one of Pax's bendy straws in the glass. Piri had been pretty excited about those at dinner last night, and had demanded to know the English word for them. He'd repeated it over and over until he got it right. It was a challenge for him because the Erisan language doesn't have blended consonants and Piri, by his own admission, hasn't got much aptitude for languages. His explanation of this – “I learn bad words” – lost a lot in translation, but Pax helped me figure out what his father had been trying to say. Piri learned quite a few new words last night despite his linguistic shortcomings, including the names of most of the vegetables that we served, the names of various articles of clothing and, most notably, how to say piano.

I have to grin when I think about Piri's reaction to my piano. At first he seemed a little afraid of it, but once Pax helped me explain to him that it's a musical instrument, he became very animated and insisted that I show him how it works. I played a few scales for him and he was able to repeat what I'd done with little effort. Then, he wanted me to play an Earth song for him. The song I chose isn't particularly difficult, but I think it's lovely, and it reminds me of the first time Sini described the sunrise for me.

When I was done, Pax clapped appreciatively. He said Piri should have a turn at the keyboard, and I agreed, mostly because I wanted to see what would happen. To my utter astonishment, Piri began to play something that sounded remarkably close to In The Morning Light, the song I'd just finished. After that, no one could get him away from the piano. His aptitude for languages may not be great but his ear for music is totally off the charts. Once he'd gone up and down the keyboard a few times and worked out which keys produce which notes, he was able to play very simple but nevertheless lovely renditions of several melodies from his world. Most of them were unfamiliar to me but I did recognize a few, including Kiva Anoa, the Erisan love song for which my younger daughter is named.

At one point Piri had started singing along with his own accompaniment, which occasioned much chirping on the part of Suvi and Pax. With his wife and son beside him Piri started the song over again, and the three of them sang together in exquisite three-part harmony. I didn't understand any of the words, but the sound was beautiful.

By the time they were done, Sini and Kiro were crying. Even Jex, who could not hear the music, was weeping. Jex must've been signing something because I overheard Kiro comment to somebody, “Jex says they are overflowing with love and joy. He says they have not only found the missing part of their trio but they have also found the missing piece of their souls.”

That should've made me happy, but it didn't. All it did was make me feel even more miserable as I thought about how much Pax has woven his way into the metaphorical fabric of my soul. Suvi and Piri may have regained the third part of their trio, but where did that leave me? I tried not to think about it, but you know how that goes. The harder you try not to think about something, the more you think about it.

But, I digress. I was telling you about my encounter with Suvi.

I gave her the glass of water and then followed her back to the living room. Suvi spoke to Piri and Jex in their language and it sounded like maybe she was apologizing to them. It was kind of hard to tell, but Piri's reply sounded contrite. Maybe he was apologizing too. I imagined the conversation consisted of her saying that she was sorry for losing her temper and that he was sorry for being a pain in the ass, but she had to understand that he wasn't feeling well and she must know by now how he gets when he's ill. She responded with some variation of the non-word sound that I refer to as 'comfort clicks'. Maybe that was, I know. Let me see if I can make it better.

It was apparent Suvi couldn't get Jex to drink anything but, after a little coaxing, Piri drank some water. I could hear him slurping it, and I guessed he must've placed the straw just beneath the surface of the water to produce that noise. Obviously, he'd learned that trick from Pax last night. One of Pax's favourite ways to get a rise out of people at the dinner table is to make slurping noises with his straw. We've stopped asking him not to do it. The only way to make him stop is to pretend it doesn't annoy us at all. Reverse psychology, you know?

Suvi finished off the water herself and gave the empty glass back to me. She said, “Thank you,” and Piri echoed the sentiment.

Sometime after noon they all fell asleep, Jex and Piri on the couch, Suvi curled into a beanbag chair nearby and Kiro sprawled in the middle of the living room floor with one of the throw pillows from the couch under his head. Sini described the whole scene to me in a tone of disgust. She finished off by saying that her compatriots looked like a bunch of students passed out after attending an all-night party and having chewed too much of something called hazha root. When I asked her what that was, she said it's a plant-based intoxicant. According to her, hazha is a recreational drug used by pretty much all adult Erisans and, from what she told me, I gathered that it makes people feel uninhibited and overly confident and just plain awesome. She explained that if it's overused, however, users can hallucinate or become ill. The aftereffects of too much hazha make you feel like you've been bashed over the head with a big stick, your eyeballs enlarged to the point where they no longer comfortably fit your eye sockets, and your mouth filled with ashes from the previous night's bonfire.

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” I said.

She didn't seem amused and told me that it was none of my business. That sounded to me like the response of someone who'd suffered one too many hazha-induced hangovers and was none too proud of her youthful indiscretions. I didn't pursue the topic any further but, in some weird way, it was kind of reassuring to know that Erisans are prone to the same weaknesses as we are. I could just picture that wild Erisan party, beautiful blue and green bodies dancing next to a roaring fire, everyone high on hazha root and ready to do unspeakably reckless and pleasurable things. Sex and drugs and...it suddenly occurred to me that I've never asked Sini if Eris has a version of rock-n-roll.

When they woke up in the late afternoon, our guests all seemed to have recovered to varying degrees. Kiro crept out to the kitchen and asked for water. It was Remi's night to cook dinner, and I was hanging out with him while he worked at it. Remi got a glass of water for Kiro and he sat down on the floor to drink it. He volunteered that he didn't have an upset stomach any more, but that he was sore all over. I wasn't surprised.

The next one to turn up in the kitchen was Piri. He seemed pretty much fully recovered and even told us that he was hungry. Okay, what he actually said was, “I eat?” but we got the general idea. Remi gave him a carrot and a potato, and slowly articulated the name of each. Piri got pretty excited over the potato and even managed a small chirp. When I asked Kiro about that, he explained that the potato looks like a common Erisan staple vegetable called, coincidentally enough, pato. Apparently, pato is much larger than our potatoes, but Kiro's description of it gave me the impression the two vegetables are more or less the same, at least in shape and colour.

With Kiro's help, Piri asked us if we could cook the potato for him. I poked some holes in it with a fork and put it in the microwave which, predictably, became another focal point of fascination. Unfortunately, I couldn't really explain how the microwave works. I said he'd have to ask Sini about it later.

Piri sat on the floor next to Kiro and nibbled his carrot while his potato was baking. It wasn't hard to tell from which parent Pax had inherited his insatiable curiosity and his enthusiasm for life. I listened to Piri chattering away in the tone of a small boy at Canada's Wonderland and found myself amazed that he seemed none the worse for wear after that morning's adventure. Not for the first time, I wished that I shared the Erisans' empathic sense. I would've loved to know what was going though Piri's mind.

Knowing what was going on in Kiro's head wasn't difficult to figure out. The more Piri talked, the more irritated Kiro became.  In the middle of Piri's monologue, Kiro exclaimed in English, “Shut up! I do not care about stupid Earth technology!”

“What's the matter, Kiro?” I said, even though it was fairly obvious at that point.

“He is acting like a child at his first street market, and it is annoying me.”

“Now, there's some irony for you,” I said.

“I do not recall asking for your input.”

“I didn't ask for yours yesterday, but I got it anyway, didn't I? Now you know how it feels.”

“It feels like you are enjoying it.”

“Possibly,” I said. “Come on. Cut the guy some slack. He's excited about being on a new planet. I seem to recall you were excited yesterday.”

“That was before you tried to kill us with your dangerous Earth food.”

“Coffee beans are not food,” I reminded him. “And Pax did try to warn you.”

“Details,” Kiro said.

“Important details. If a stranger was visiting your world and you told him not to eat a poisonous plant, would you expect him to do it anyway?”

“That is ridiculous. I would expect him to trust my experience.”

“Pax has been here a while and he knows that eating two kilograms of coffee beans is dangerous.”

Kiro made a disgruntled noise. “You reason like an Interpreter of the Law.”

“A lawyer?” Remi said from his place at the counter. “Check it out, Tyler. He's only been here one day and he's already got you pegged.”

I said, “Guilty as charged.”

“You are an Interpreter of the Law?” Kiro asked. “A...lawyer?”

“Not until I finish school, but yeah. That's what I'm going to be.”

“My condolences.”

Remi laughed at that, and so did I. Remi said, “I guess there are some universal constants.”

“I guess so,” I agreed. “Lawyers: reviled everywhere in the known universe.”

Piri interjected then, with what was clearly a question delivered in a tone that had a distinct whine in it. My off-the-cuff interpretation was, What's so funny? I hoped he didn't think we were laughing at him. Fortunately, Kiro intervened with a translation of what we'd been saying and, once Piri understood, he laughed too.  

Piri started to say something in response to Kiro, but in the middle of his sentence he got distracted by the beeping of the microwave announcing that his potato was done.  He let out a chirp that could've rivalled one of Pax's in his most hyper moment.  I heard him scramble to his feet and trot across the room.  He got to the microwave before Remi did, and he must have snatched his potato from the oven with his bare hands because the next thing I heard was a yelp of pain and then something hitting the floor.  

Kiro sighed.  “It is difficult to believe they let him be in charge of an entire starship.

“Is Piri really in charge of your starship?” I asked.

“Not this time,” Kiro said. “He is a captain, but I think our government believed it would not be good for him to be in charge this time. Taro Vik commands this mission. He is Piri's friend.”

“And he's okay with you guys being down here for over twenty-four hours?”

“What is the Earth phrase? We have...checked in. Captain Taro knows we will come back to the ship tomorrow at this time.”

And there it was.  Just like that, I learned that in twenty-four hours I'd more than likely be saying goodbye to Pax.   Would I also be saying it to Sini and my daughters?  Michael's advice from that morning echoed in my head: Don't panic.  

Yeah.  Easier said than done.