The applause died down at once, everyone anxious to hear what the alien leader had to say.

"Hello," said Kelkad — or rather, said his pocket translator. Frank assumed the vocabulary database from Hask’s translator must have by now been copied over to those of the other Tosoks. "Nice planet you’ve got nere."

The applause again, with hundreds of cheers mixed in. Frank recognized Clete’s sense of humor in the comment; he’d obviously coached Kelkad on what to say.

Frank found himself clapping so hard his palms were stinging. And so were his eyes, at the beautiful sight of aliens standing in front of the rainbow row of one hundred and eighty-five flags outside of the United Nations of Earth.

"People of planet Earth," said Kelkad later that afternoon, standing at one of the two podiums inside the General Assembly hall, "we come to you as neighbors: our home world is a planet in the Alpha Centauri system."

Frank was sitting in the public gallery above the General Assembly, looking down on the concentric semicircular rows of delegate seating. His eyebrows went up. Although Alpha Centauri A was much like the sun, it was bound gravitationally to two other stars. Offhand, Frank wouldn’t have thought that system capable of having an Earth-like world.

"We came here," continued Kelkad, "to bring you greetings from our people.

But, unexpectedly, it seems we also need your help. Our starship has been damaged, and is in need of repair. We cannot build the required parts ourselves — the damage is beyond the limited resources of our mothership.

But although many of the principles used in building the replacement parts we need will be unfamiliar to you, Dr. Calhoun assures me that you have the technology to manufacture complex items according to our plans. We therefore ask that some of you agree to build the parts we need. In exchange, those who do build the parts will be welcome to keep whatever knowledge and technology they can glean from the process."

Frank could see the rows of ambassadors salivating down below. Of course it would likely only be the technologically sophisticated countries, doubtless led by the U.S. and Japan, that would get contracts with the Tosoks.

Kelkad continued on for another half hour or so, with everyone listening intently. And then:

"And so," said Kelkad, "it is with great pleasure that we extend the front hand of friendship, and the back hand of trust, across the light-years to our closest neighbors, to a race of beings that we hope will also become our closest friends. Men and women of planet Earth, you are no longer alone!"

After the speech, every nation on Earth extended invitations to the Tosoks to visit. There was considerable pressure for them to head east from New York, across the Atlantic — it was felt that the United States had monopolized the alien visitors too much already, and a westward trip across the U.S. would be inappropriate.

And so it came to pass that the aliens toured London, Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Moscow, Jerusalem, Giza, Calcutta, Beijing, Tokyo, Hon-olulu, and Vancouver. An entourage traveled with them, including Frank and Clete, and several other prominent scientists from various nations, along with a security detachment. The Canadian representative turned out to be Packwood Smathers, the same blowhard Clete had argued with on CNN.

One of the highlights of the trip — for Tosoks and humans alike — was observing one of the true wonders of nature. Clete tried to set the stage for it appropriately.

"Even now that I’ve actually been in space," he said to the Tosoks, "the most incredible astronomical sight I’ve ever seen I saw from the ground."

He paused. "A total solar eclipse. There’s nothing like it. And we’re goin’ to get to see one. I wish I could say we planned this for you guys, but we’re jes’ plain lucky. It’s almost two years afore the next one. But this one — well, this one will be visible in lots of highly populated areas. I had to go to the Galapagos for the one in ’98 and to Siberia for the one in ’97 — but it don’t matter; wherever they are, I go. This one, though, will be visible from here in northern France all the way to Turkey — prolly be seen by more people than any eclipse in human history." A pause. "Does your world have a moon, Kelkad?"

The alien captain’s head tuft moved backward in what was now recognized as the Tosok sign of negation. "No. We were surprised to see how big yours is."

"Sure ’nuff," said Clete. "’Fact, Earth and its moon come purty near to bein’ a double planet."

"It is remarkable," agreed Kelkad. "But even though we have no moon, I do know what an eclipse is — the partial or complete obscuring of one celestial body by another."

"That’s true — but our eclipses are somethin’ special," said Clete. "See, our sun is four hundred times wider than our moon — but it’s also four hundred times farther away. That means when things line up jes’ right, the moon precisely covers the sun, completely blockin’ out the photosphere. When that happens you can see the corona — the sun’s atmosphere — and sometimes even see prominences shootin’ out into space."

"Incredible," said Kelkad.

Clete smiled. "That it is."

The eclipse occurred on a Wednesday at noon. The Tosoks and their entourage had just left Strasbourg, where they had toured the famous Gothic cathedral. To get an unobstructed view of the bowl of the sky, their specially modified tour bus had driven out into a vineyard in the French countryside.

The sun was fifty-five degrees above the horizon as the silhouette of the moon slowly bit into its blazing disk. The humans were wearing eclipse-viewing glasses with fluorescent green-and-pink cardboard frames and Mylar lenses; the Tosoks always wore pop-in sunglasses while out-doors during the day, but now were using extra-strength versions so that they, too, could stare up at the spectacle.

Slowly, ponderously, the black circular shadow of the moon covered more and more of the sun. As it did so the sky grew dim. A hush fell over the landscape; even the birds stopped singing to stare up in wonder. When the moon’s disk had almost completely blocked the sun, a row of Bailey’s beads was briefly visible at the disk’s edge — bright spots caused by sunlight passing through irregularities on the moon’s rim.

And then…

Totality.

The temperature dropped noticeably. The sky went dark. Those who were willing to take their eyes off the main attraction for a moment could clearly see bright Venus below and to the left of the sun, and dimmer Mercury above it and to the right, along with a smattering of stars; the sun was halfway between Leo and Cancer.

Around the black disk of the moon, a beautiful pink corona was visible, like wisps of hair, or a wild angel’s halo.

It was absolutely incredible, absolutely breathtaking. Frank was deeply moved, and he saw Clete wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. The head tufts on the Tosoks were waving wildly in excitement.

All too soon it was over, the moon continuing on its way, and the sky brightening.

Kelkad strode over to Clete. "Thank you," he said, his tuft still moving with emotion. "Thank you for letting us see that."

Clete smiled. "Like you said, nice planet we’ve got here."

Finally, the aliens returned to the United States, touring California. They visited Rogers Dry Lake to watch the Shuttle Discovery land (it had been up taking photographs and radar scans of the alien mothership to aid in the repair effort). Next, they came to Los Angeles — which happened to be Clete’s home now; he balanced his time between production of his TV series and teaching astronomy at UCLA. The aliens didn’t know what to make of Disneyland. They understood that Mickey, Goofy, and Donald were supposed to be a mouse, a dog, and a duck, respectively — they’d seen all three types of animals during their tour of Earth. But they were absolutely flummoxed by the idea of portraying them as erect, sentient, articulate beings. They were also amazed by most of the rides — the idea that one could enjoy being frightened struck them as a contradiction in terms. They did rather seem to like the Teacups, though.