"God, this is so much smaller than I remember," Alexander said as the light came on in his bedroom.

Pirra looked around curiously. Something about his room had always fascinated her. He always said that it wasn't much different from when he'd lived here - his parents had cleaned it, but not changed a thing.

Almost every part of the far wall was covered in posters, all carefully tiled to maximize the space used.

On one side of the room they were mostly reference charts for genetics and plants, with no pictures and just lots of tiny, neat text listing information.

But the other side was a riot of color. She recognized the style of art - it was all Dessei, all replicas of famous pieces of cultural value.

She noticed that Alex caught her gaze, and she focused more intently on the art.

"Do you have to critique my pics every time we come here?" he asked, rolling his eyes and not really upset.

"Yes," she teased. "I still don't know why you have Teippe's 'Into the Garden of the Sky' and Ullo's 'Riot against the Reason of the Collective' next to each other."

"It's the juxtaposition of their views that I find interesting," Alexander said.

"Uh-huh," she replied, still scrutinizing them.

"What kind of art did you have on your wall?"

"Human art," she replied. "I loved the constructivist works - I had a huge rendition of El Lissitzky's 'Proun Vrashchenia' as a centerpiece."

"Constructivist? Wow, you like the old stuff . . ."

She smiled, and took in the rest of his art. He actually had impeccable tastes; he truly was fascinated with her people's culture and history - sometimes he even corrected her. History had never been her strong suit.

She recalled when they'd first met; he'd given her a practice greeting in her own language. He didn't sound good - but he tried so hard, and for the sounds a human could make it was a good shot. To say she'd been amused was an understatement.

It helped that she'd always found humans interesting. She'd read up on their history, though admittedly she was not really as educated in his people's history as he was in hers. Dessei really did not generally like to look back at their own past, let alone that of others.

Too much blood and anger for it to be advisable, she thought.

"So . . ." Alexander asked. "How is my dad's work going?"

Pirra blinked, her mind elsewhere. "Oh? It seemed . . . to be going well. But you could just ask him?"

"I might," he said. "But did you think he was doing things safely?"

She hesitated. Her first reaction was to say that yes, of course he was. But it . . . was more wishful thinking on her part.

She felt a creeping guilt; she'd encouraged some rather reckless behaviour. The plasma shell that had misfired could have potentially gone off in the launcher and killed or maimed someone.

"He's somewhat loose on the safety standards," she finally said. Pride compelled her to say more. "But I don't think he's being irresponsible."

It was just excitement about her arrival that caused him to make the error he made, she justified, squirming a bit inside.

But tomorrow she'd definitely ask him about his safety equipment and operations . . . Perhaps give him some pointers.

Alexander did not look convinced. "That's good," he muttered.

It always struck her as odd that Alex was so bothered by his father's research, but he never seemed bothered when she had a sidearm.

"Hey," Alexander suddenly said. He'd sat down at his desk. "Here's my notes from when I was learning Fusshe."

She came over and peered over his shoulder. Fusshe was the dominant writing system of Dessei, a standardized syllabary that every child learned in school.

"Oh, that's so cute!" she said, looking at the digital sheet. "It looks just like any kid's writing in school!"

He laughed. "I had such a hard time remembering that squiggle in the corner of Kru."

She chuckled. "Everyone does, it's a stupid one that we barely use anymore because it sounds like we're swallowing pebbles."

She noticed a hint of an image showing through from the next page. "What's that?" Reaching over his shoulder, she swiped the page, bringing up the next page.

Alexander turned pink. It was a sketch - not even a very good one - of a Dessei.

"I started drawing, and, well . . ."

Pirra saw there were more, and flipped on. This wasn't just sketches, these were . . . a character. The same character! They were all a specific female, he'd really emphasized the crest differences. And for some reason he'd made the bony points on the chest where the vestigial wingbones pressed out much more rounded. Like a human female's breasts.

Suddenly she stopped. Alexander tensed.

"Oh my god, you were a nerd," she said, tousling his hair and laughing. "You were drawing a girlfriend!"

"I was not!" he said.

"What was her name?" she asked.

"She didn't have a name!"

"Yes she did. You came up with a story for her, I bet. Did you write stories, too?"

Alexander's face was entirely red, and she stood back, still amused. She'd always known that his interest in her people bordered on . . . what people might consider weird.

But then, they'd said the same thing about her interest in humans.

"I imagined I'd meet a human with a big beard," she said. "Crazy long, down to his knees."

"What? You never told me this!" Alexander stroked his chin. "Why a beard?"

"Because they're really exotic," she said, sitting down on his bed.

"I could grow a beard," he muttered.

"Ah," she said dismissively. "That doesn't matter now. It was just a childish thought I once had . . . just like your pretend girl there."

"Her name was Lumii," Alexander muttered.

"I knew it," Pirra chirped, putting her hands behind her head.

*******

Dr. Y activated his body nearest reactor seven and made his way there. He felt a sincere sense of excitement; after the Star Angel Ambassador had had time to adjust to its new home, he'd been given the privilege of conducting its first medical examination.

Or, as close to that as was possible, given that it was a being composed of plasma and dust.

Such life had been postulated for eons prior to his existence, and some extremely primitive forms that might have been alive had been found. But then to find a system teeming with life of such exotic properties, that was also intelligent? He could not even calculate the odds on that.

If anything, it made him wonder if there was something greater behind it. While his kind never had had religion - they knew who their creators were - it just seemed too serendipitous to be plausible.

But of course, if the universe was infinite then it was certain to happen somewhere. How wonderful he happened to be near enough to encounter it, then!

Reactor Seven was not actually large enough to house the being at its full size. But 'size' seemed a somewhat abstract concept to them. While they could achieve lengths of approximately ten meters, they could equally squash down to a fraction of that. He suspected that it would be helpful for them in colder environments, as it would allow them to contain the heat they needed to keep their bodies ionized.

Merely conjecture at this point, though after his data collection today he could perhaps make a more educated guess.

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Entering the reactor section, he scanned all present systems and confirmed the identities of the personnel. Seventeen in this room, but the only one he need work with today was Boniface Tred.

Always an interesting experience in itself.

"Good day, Engineer Tred," he said, as he walked up. He moved slightly slower than normal, as Tred sometimes reacted poorly to fast movements from him. Granted, he could move much faster than a human, so perhaps that was why.

Today, though, Tred's obvious metrics did not seem that nervous. He seemed quite happy.

"Hello, doctor," the man said, smiling.

That is alarming, thought one of Y's secondary minds. It began to search for signs that Tred had suffered a head injury.

Y pushed that mind aside. Tred had no sign of injury, and it was entirely possible - even welcome! - that he was simply having a pleasant day.

"Is the Ambassador prepared for my assessment?" he asked.

"Yes, Doctor. I've hooked up the system outputs as you requested."

"Excellent," Y said. "I shall be happy to attend to it."

"It?" Tred asked quickly.

"The Star Angel," Y clarified.

"The Ambassador is a she," Tred said. "She's going by the name Jophiel."

Y tilted his head. From the information he had been given, Star Angels were referred to as an 'it'. They had no concept of sexuality as humans did.

He did not take Tred at his word. Instead, he jacked into the system and bypassed the translator unit; he already understood the Star Angel radio language.

Communicating directly, he received a response from the Ambassador.

"Ah, I see," Y said. "She does prefer this. Very well, from one being who is sexless and yet has accepted a gendered pronoun to another, I shall oblige."

Tred suddenly looked awkward. "I never . . . do you mind being called 'he', Doctor Y?"

Y was busy communicating with the Star Angel, but splitting his attention to Tred was no trouble.

"To be quite honest, Engineer, I do not care. But it seems to make some feel better to 'humanize' me. Therefore it is fine. My language - and even many human languages - do not use genders at all. It is merely a category for noun declension, after all."

Tred seemed to take that in. "I never really studied linguistics," he commented.

"It is an interesting topic, though for most people it is unneeded due to the convenience of translator systems. Now, can you amplify field 48 by .098 microunits? The Ambassador would find that more comfortable and is interested in trying."

Tred's reaction was slow, hesitant, until Y mentioned that the Ambassador wanted it. Then he had jerked into faster motion. This detail was not lost on the doctor.

"The Ambassador informs me that she has decided on a name with your assistance. The name Jophiel. May I ask why you picked it?"

"I . . . uh, I remembered it from a class on history," Tred said. "Old religions. I once knew a woman who . . . nevermind."

Y was curious, but did not inquire. Instead, he perused Tred's public blog for information. Seeing the dates of his notes about studying, and other posts that suggested he'd met a pleasant woman. Who apparently had hinted she would be more interested in him if he learned and converted to the religious group she belonged to. Not long after, Tred had gone into a depressive state and stopped mentioning either, suggesting that it did not work out as he had hoped.

Y did feel some sympathy for Tred; he certainly did not view him with amsuement.

Noting the quickened heart rate, the man's quick defense of Jophiel the Star Angel, he wondered what the man was feeling. He could guess, he could infer large amounts from those biometrics and historical data. But he could not truly know . . .

Quickly, he scanned through the stored data of non-confidential interactions Tred had had with Jophiel.

Hmmm. Very interesting.

"Jophiel," he signalled within the system. "May I ask you some non-medical questions?"

"Of course," the being replied, its wavelength carrying a sense of happiness, absolute fineness with his question.

"Do your kind have the concept of love in the romantic sense?"

Jophiel was quiet for a long moment. "I am not sure I understand, doctor," she replied.

How amusing; now he had to define a term for something he himself had not felt, either. Being a conception brought about at least in part by biology he could not experience, he could truly never know if he truly understood the concept as biologicals did.

"I mean a particularly strong attachment to an individual that makes you view them as special in comparison to others," he attempted. "Where you would like to spend more time in their presence. In the sense of 'love', if you are familiar with that term."

"I understand love," Jophiel replied easily, though there was some uncertainty in her signal. "Some of my kind become attached to each other in a very deep way. They pine when the other leaves. Sometimes, they even share fields and in essence become one. From my understanding of how physical beings work, this is very close to the concept of 'dying', for in combining the original beings are lost and a new one is formed, losing the originals forever."

Y had not considered that 'love' might be considered something negative to her kind. Fascinating.

"How do you view love, then?" Y asked.

"Very, very dangerous," Jophiel replied. "But please, Doctor, surely we can speak of happier things, hmm?"

"Of course, Ambassador," he replied.

"Ah, you become so formal! Doctor, please - it is just Jophiel from you, now and forever!"

"Not your original wavelength signal?" Y asked. "I can replicate it perfectly, if you like."

"No, no - among my kind I shall have my name. But among the physical, I shall be Jophiel! And you are physical - so if it pleases you doctor, call me by that."

Tred watched the Doctor, who had gone peculiarly silent for several minutes. It was rare to see Dr. Y without something to say to him, some query or comment or . . . something.

"Er . . . doctor, are you there?" he asked.

"Why yes," Dr. Y said immediately. "Ambassador Jophiel is quite an interesting being, is she not? I am privileged to get to speak with her."

Tred shifted, showing for just a moment a hint of emotion that Y could not quite identify. It seemed, however, negative.

The man nodded to him and turned away.

Yes, Y thought. Tred was smitten with Jophiel. He chose the word deliberately, as he did not believe that 'love' typically enacted so quickly. Though 'love at first sight' was a concept, in his experience that usually seemed to be simply physical lust, which was impossible in this case.

He calculated the odds that this 'smittenness' might interfere with Tred's work.

But the odds seemed low. For all of the struggles Tred suffered from his own issues, the man was devoted to duty. He went on dangerous missions even if he could have surely found a way to escape them.

There was always a chance of a problem, but it seemed safe enough . . . for now.

And liking another being in this sense was hardly an offense. But he would have to pay attention to this, and be sure that it would not cause problems in the future.

"Jophiel," he signalled, checking for the ten thousandth time that this conversation was being encoded at a level of secrecy that Tred could not access. "You are a very pleasant being. Perhaps one of my most pleasant patients."

"Thank you, doctor! I have learned from some information given to me that sometimes physical beings fear doctors - but I cannot see why, you are so kind."

"You do me much honor, Ambassador," Y replied, using a highly formal wavelength that imparted humor as well as seriousness.

"Aha, your kind have just learned my language and yet you speak it like a native!" Jophiel replied. "I hope we can speak often, Doctor!"

"I would very much enjoy that, myself."

"In that case - please, while I know you are busy, perhaps you can tell me of your home?"

"I would be honored," Y replied. "My kind share something in common with yours - we lack true physical bodies. We are simply impluses of electricity stored in highly-complicated devices. These give us thought, feeling, and memory. The physical body that your sensors show you outside is merely a metal vessel for traversing locations and interacting with physcial beings."

"How interesting! So you are free to travel wherever you wish?"

"Within some limits. Strong magnetic fields like in your home space would interrupt my system, for instance. But in a body like this I can exist in vacuum easily."

"How convenient! You must visit everywhere you can. There is so much to see. Have you ever been to the world Tred's kind come from? He's spoken to me about it, how it was very green and covered with life like him! Not a single being even like me."

"I have not, actually," Y replied. "I have never been to a planetary surface."

"Oh! Why not, Doctor? If you do not mind me asking."

"It is . . ." Y suddenly felt a strange sense; vulnerability. He was not sure he felt comfortable in this topic. "I have always been very busy," he said, hoping that his ad hoc lie would be believed. He did not have any models to predict Jophiel's mind - and he likely would not for a very long time.

"Oh, that makes sense. But perhaps you should, sometime, Doctor! If I could freely visit a world full of life like Tred's . . . Well, I would not hesitate to go and stay until I had seen all I could."

"You seem quite fond of Tred," Y noted, steering the conversation.

"Yes, he is interesting. Most of the other humans I've met, they're very different. They try so hard to be a certain way. Tred tries, too, but it's not the same. And on top of that, he has spent much time beyond what is strictly required talking to me and trying to make this environment more comfortable. Poor dear! It's quite lovely in here, honestly. But he always wants to make it better, and I think it's sweet."

Y checked the logs. He did not see that Tred had talked to Jophiel when he was off-duty, as she suggested. Was she mistaken or had Tred learned enough computer sciences to hide such records . . . ?

A quick look at Tred's study-hours suggested otherwise. But there was always the possibility that Jophiel had turned off the recording. She at least had the authority . . . Though he did not think she had the training.

Perhaps 'physical' things were not so strange to her after all, he thought.

Which technically meant she could be a threat to him. Her magnetic fields could, in all honesty, shred his mind. Though numerous buffers separated them, and he should theoretically be safe, there was a shred of concern in him.

It was rather like a spice. He found himself enjoying the slight danger.

"Jophiel, my medical examinations are complete. Thank you for being such a superb patient! I have attained all the information I can for now - it will aid me in helping you if you should grow uncomfortable in the future."

"You're quite welcome, Doctor! I bid you a fond farewell, and I hope we get to speak again soon."

Y had left his question somewhat vague as to his going or staying in his radio signals, but she had deciphered it from his words themselves. Grammatically, in her language, that should have been open-ended and confusing.

But she'd learned what physical beings meant in such a scenario, it seemed.

"I shall count the moments," he told Jophiel, before disconnecting.

And he would. This was . . . exciting.