Nate sat around a globular space viewer with Jack and Bradley and marveled at the Colvakeetian ship with it’s intricate instrumentation covering every wall with contrasting splashes of color. He couldn’t imagine what it all must do.
Their oxygenated part of the ship was extremely roomy, the four dudes sharing their own big commons room along with a private one for each of them to withdraw to. The spongy, ropy stuff they slept on was strange, but more comfortable than the average alien bed, and the ‘excretory’ rooms weren’t too bad for adapting to human ablutions. There were plenty of round indentations on the floor and on elevated pedestals, which made sense since the pulsating mass of Colvakeetian muscle was relatively round.
Tim came out of the excretory. “Whew. Do not go in there.”
Nate held up a full plate of boiled pugglesnakes. “Want some?”
Tim’s face turned green, he grabbed his belly, and he went back into the excretory.
“Shouldn’t have eaten all those worms,” said Jack.
“Yeah, it’s hard to make fun of him since he won us passage on this ship,” said Nate.
Bradley sniffed. “I think the Rablonian Scow I’d gotten us had more efficient engines.”
“Who cares?” said Jack. “It would take longer than our lifetimes to get as far as this thing is going to take us in a few days.”
Bradley shrugged. “I’m just saying. The scow’s engineering was superior.”
Tim came out, took a few steps then stopped, his eyes widening. He turned around and went back in.
On one of the pedestals close to the space viewer, a light appeared, formed and grew, turning into a Colvakeetian.
“Holy cow!” said Nate. “They’ve got transporters.”
“BAWK greet you,” said the Colvakeetian. “Call me LomaBAWKlit”
“You can call me JuBAWKack,” said Jack.
“Sounds like Chewbacca,” said Bradley.
“So it does,” said Jack.
“I thought teleportation was impossible,” said Nate. “How do you do that?”
“ColvaBAWKeetians’ physiology BAWK which allows BAWK.” The skinflap with the eyes all over it oozed out, then receded. “BAWK service for BAWK passengers.”
“I’d love some bizzle bread, if you have it, Lomalit,” said Nate.
“Me, too,” said Bradley.
“Me, three,” said Jack.
Lomalit brightened, then contracted into a sharp light that finally disappeared.
Tim came out of the excretory.
“Tim, you wouldn’t believe it,” said Nate. “They’ve got teleporters on the ship.”
“You’re right,” said Tim. “I don’t believe it.”
“You’ll believe it when he comes back,” said Jack.
Tim sat, then got up and went back into the excretory. Lomalit appeared again, this time holding an unevenly shaped bowl full of bizzle bread.
“Funtastic,” said Jack.
Limalit set the bowl on a pedestal next to them.
“Thank you,” said Nate, echoed by Jack and Bradley.
“You know what would be good with this,” said Jack. “How about some Shiraz butter—what was the real name for it?”
“Sherza, I think,” said Nate. “It’s creamed bugs, I forget from where.”
“It was good, though,” said Bradley. “Reminded me of the caviar at Martha Stuart’s.”
Nate scoffed. “You were never—”
“Wow,” said Nate. “I won’t get used to that any time soon.”
Tim came out again.
Nate handed him a piece of bizzle bread. “He teleported again. Here’s your proof.”
“Right.” Tim sat. “Cause the only way to get food is to zap it through the air.”
“He’s not kidding,” said Jack. “He’s bringing Shiraz butter, too.”
“I’m sure. And I’m not kidding that they took the word ‘gullible’ out of the dictionary.” Tim took a bight and chewed. He tossed the piece of bread on the pedestal. “Damn.” He got up and went back into the excretory.
The light appeared, and Tim busted out of the excretory. “Aha!” Lomalit materialized the rest of the way. “Holy shit. You guys weren’t kidding.”
“How can BAWK serve BAWK.”
“Em. You wouldn’t have bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast, would you?”
“BAWK translations bad.”
“Fine.” Tim picked up his partially eaten bread.
“Just bring him a diaper,” said Nate.
Jack looked at Nate sharply.
“What? I said it was hard, not impossible.”