Day became night became day, in that weird way BigBall had, going in and out of synch with sunrise back home. Finally, Petra finished printing the second communicator. Before he turned it on, he had Petra print a few cans of the alien food, and then several cans of tuna.

  The alien cans were mostly like cans on Earth but the lip was a little strange. Nick had to use his can opener at a weird angle to get one open. When he managed it, the smell was...kind of gross, actually.

  Ugh, this is food for them? Nick picked up a spoon and scooped out a little bit. The stuff was lots of little oblong bits in some kind of sauce. Are these...beans? I wonder what would happen if I planted them?

  Nick tentatively lifted the spoon towards his lips, and got another whiff of it. Oh, that's vile. Am I sure this stuff hasn't gone bad or something? He pressed his lips together and squinted at the stuff in the spoon. I wonder if...

  “Petra, clean these off, please?” One of Petra's kitchen “monsters” swept over the bowl, leaving it empty. Nick closed his eyes. “Not what I meant, Petra. Never mind, I'll try to do it myself.”

  Nick put a couple of spoonfuls of the alien food into another bowl, then added water. He swirled it around, dumped the water out, and repeated the process. At first the water was coming out yellowish-brown, but the color got fainter with each round of washing. Nick kept going about a dozen times. Once he was pretty sure he had gotten all the sauce off, he took a spoonful again and lifted it to his nose.

  Well, it still smells weird, but it doesn't smell disgusting any more. Nick stared at it a little longer, working up his courage. Finally, he put a few of the little lumps in his mouth and rested them on his tongue for a moment. When nothing really horrible happened, he started chewing the alien beans slowly.

  The taste was...Nick forgot the word. It sounded like, “Yo Mama” or “Yo Mommy” or something like that. The “beans” tasted like little lumps of meat. Greasier than chicken. Duck, maybe? Almost...oily. I would sort of think it's fish, except...Nick gave up. The taste just didn't fit in the boxes he put human food in.

  Nick chewed and swallowed. Then he waited a little while, and his stomach gurgled a bit. At least I'm not vomiting. If these are alien beans, I wonder if they'll make me fart?

  It turned out that they did a little worse than that.

  After his guts settled back down, Nick thought it over. Yeah, this happens even with human food when you go to certain countries. Why did I think it wouldn't happen with alien food? So...it's not as bad as the worst human food? Yay, I guess...

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Nick was hungry, so he had Petra make him some stew. While that was cooking, he got some straight up copies of the food he had dropped off with the aliens. He checked his appearance, then combed his hair and beard. A little bit nervously, Nick said, “Petra, turn on both communicators. It's showtime.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Petra, are the—?”

  There was a very loud squawk of some sort. It kind of sounded like someone asked a chicken to try to bark like a dog and it did its best. There was also a clatter of something metallic. Then, silence. Nick waited a few more moments, then tried again.

  “Hello?”

  There was some kind of thump, much lower in volume. Then footsteps, sounding kind of like boots on stone, if the boots were made of metal. There was still no video. Very faintly, Nick thought he heard an alien calling out something in their language. Calling for the boss, maybe?

  Alien conversation gradually grew louder. There were at least two voices, maybe three. One was higher-pitched. Maybe that's the smart one, the one who threw me the can of Montezuma's Revenge.

  “Flarg, Zozo, Koog,” Nick tried. “One, two, three. Hello?”

  One alien shushed the others. “Eh-oh,” they answered loudly. “Ick?”

  “Nick. Yes. This is Nick. I am Nick.”

  “Uh, oo, fee.” The alien rattled something else off. Nick had no idea what they were saying.

  “Petra, why aren't we getting video?”

  “I don't understand, Nick.”

  Nick blew air out his cheeks. I'm going to get a headache really quickly if I have to fight for words with Petra and with a pack of aliens at the same time. “Petra, I no see communicator number...six,” Nick finished after checking. “Petra, is communicator number six on?”

  “Yes, Nick.”

  “Can you see?”

  “I can see you, Nick.”

  Nick groaned. At least the aliens shut up. They're probably finding this conversation fascinating. “Can communicator six see?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is communicator six seeing?”

  “Lights out,” Petra replied, which Nick had taught her for when he wanted it dark enough to sleep in his room.

  They're standing around in the dark? No. Something is blocking the camera. They probably put the communicator facing the wall on a dark shelf or something.

  “Petra, bring me the biggest light.”

  A minute later, one of the little guys had fetched a big searchlight. Nick turned it on, and pointed it at the communicator. Then, he started turning up the brightness. “You see? You see light? You see biiiig light?” Nick turned the light up to maximum when he said biiiig, then brought it back down again. On the screen, he had briefly gotten a look at a rock wall from extremely close up, and lit from below at an extreme angle. Then he waited.

  After a few scuffing noises, video appeared and the perspective spun dizzyingly for a moment. The room the aliens had put the communicator in was fairly dark, but he could see the triangular outline of an aliens' head, with a flat top, tapering down to a neck. Nick slowly turned up the brightness on the searchlight again until he could finally get his first clear look at a native of BigBall.

  Likewise, the aliens could see the screen at last, and since Nick was lit fairly well, they should be able to see him clearly. The alien in front of the camera said a single word. Nick actually remembered the sound—it was the noise the girl alien had made when her first throw of the can of beans failed miserably. It sounded like a swear word.

  'Shit', indeed, lady.