“I will.”

We entered the dome. The entrance area had a carpet: light brown with a tight weave. The oracle stopped and rubbed his bare foot across it. “Is this a gift that your people offer? Or does it come from another village?”

Most likely the carpet came from Earth. I said, “It comes from another village a long way from here.”

“The people on the plain—my folk and Nia’s—make carpets that are softer and that have patterns done in many fine colors. This is nothing much to look at.”

Nia said, “I know you are crazy, but you ought to remember something about good manners. It is not right to criticize the things that other people have.”

“I would have kept quiet, if this had been made by Lixia’s people.”

We went on down the hall. The dining room was empty. I led my companions into the kitchen, which was empty, too. Sunlight came in through high windows and everything gleamed, even the wooden cutting table, which had just been washed. The kitchen people must have left a few minutes before.

I looked around. “There must be food here somewhere.”

Derek pushed through the doors. “They said—I was hoping. Nia, can I embrace you?”

Nia looked surprised, then made the gesture of assent.

He gave her a quick hug.

“But not me,” the oracle said. “I am a man, even if I am crazy. I do not like to be touched.”

“Okay.” Derek looked at me. “Everyone is running around out there shouting, ‘The natives are coming, the natives are coming.’ I told Agopian to find the kitchen team.”

“Good. What about Eddie?”

“We’re looking for him.”

“What are you saying?” asked Nia.

Agopian came in with the little blond man. He was dressed in denim now, and his long hair was down. He wore it clipped at the nape of his neck. From there it flowed most of the way to his waist.

“Glory be to heaven,” he said.

I said, “They’re hungry.”

He nodded. “Sandwiches. And we have a pretty good lentil soup.”

I glanced at Derek. “Do you think it’s safe for them to eat our food?”

“An interesting question, and one I don’t want to answer on my own. I’d better go find a biologist.”

“I’d like to know what you are saying,” Nia said.

“We are trying to decide if you can eat our food.”

“Why not?”

The blond man said, “Could you people get out of my kitchen? We have strict regulations re sanitation.”

“Does that remark indicate prejudice?” I asked.

“It certainly does. I have a strong prejudice against dirt and against many microorganisms. Now, please, out.”

We went back into the dining room. Derek left with Agopian, and I sat down at the table. Nia and the oracle followed my example. They looked nervous. I couldn’t remember seeing a chair in any native house.

“Your people are noisy,” Nia said.

I made the gesture of agreement.

The oracle looked out the window. “They run around a lot.”

“Only when strangers arrive or when something happens that is unusual.”

“Hu!”

The blond man came in, carrying a pitcher and two glasses. “This is local water. It’s been analyzed and then distilled. It ought to be safe for everyone.”

He set the glasses down and filled them. “Here you are.” He handed one to Nia and the other to the oracle.

They frowned. Nia set her glass down. She touched it lightly. “What is this? It looks like ice, but it is not cold.”

“It is called ‘glass.’ It won’t melt, and you can’t eat it. It breaks easily. If it breaks, the edges are sharp.”

There was ice floating in the glass. A cube. She prodded it. “Is this more guh—more of the same thing?”

I made the gesture of disagreement. “That is ice.”

“Why is it shaped like a box? Why does it have a hole in the middle?”

“And why is it in our water?” the oracle asked.

“My people like their water to be cold, that’s why we put ice in it. The ice is like a box because…” I hesitated. “We make it. We cast it like metal in a mold, and the mold is square on all sides.”

“Aiya!” She lifted the glass and tilted it. Water ran over her chin and dripped on her ragged tunic. “This cup is not well made!”

“That may be,” I said.

The oracle tried. Like Nia, he spilled a fair amount of water. They were nervous, both of them. Why, I could not imagine. Here they sat, surrounded by hairless magicians, trying to make conversation while their stomachs made hungry noises.

They finished drinking the water. The oracle pulled an ice cube out of his glass. He held it on his palm, looking at it. Then he poked it with a finger. “It is ice.” He popped it into his mouth. I heard a crunch.

“You can do that with the ice,” I said. “But not with the glass.”

The oracle made the gesture that indicated understanding. Derek returned, a woman with him as tall as he was and as black as coal. She wore a bright yellow coverall and a pair of truly amazing earrings. Two huge disks made of hammered metal. When she got closer, I saw her eyes. The irises were silver, the same color as the earrings. There were no pupils.

Contact lenses, of course. It wasn’t an Earth fashion. She was from one of the L-5 colonies or from Luna or Mars.

She had a bag in one hand. After a moment I realized the bag was moving. Something inside it was alive. She looked at Nia and the oracle. “Well, they certainly are alien. There can be no doubt of that.”

Derek said, “According to Marina, they oughtto be able to eat our food.”

“The trouble isn’t that we are poisonous to one another,” the woman said. “The trouble is the members of one system cannot metabolize the food that comes from the other system. If these people eat our food for any length of time, they are going to end up with some really terrible deficiency diseases. But one or two meals should not hurt them.

“However,” she paused. “Having said all that, I do not recommend that we give them our food. Instead—” She reached into the bag and pulled out a fish. It twisted in her hand. “Ask your friends if this is edible.”

I did. Nia made the gesture of affirmation. Marina gave the fish to the blond man. “Broil it. Add nothing. No butter. No salt.”

“All right,” the man said. He went into the kitchen.

Marina sat down. “There are always allergies, and unpredictable reactions of one kind or another. We don’t want to kill the first aliens we have ever met.”

“No,” I said.

“What is going on?” asked Nia.

“The little man is going to cook the fish,” I said. “The woman who just came in says it is possible that our food might harm you.”

“Aiya!” said the oracle. “This is a strange experience.”

Nia made the gesture of agreement.

The black woman introduced herself. Her name was Marina in Sight of Olympus, and she was from Mars. She was a biologist. Her specialty was taxonomy. She had spent years classifying the fossil life of her home planet.

“It got to be depressing. All those wonderful little creatures! As strange as anything we had on Earth during the Precambrian. And all of them were gone. Everything was gone. The planet was dead except for us. You can see why I jumped at the chance to join the expedition.”

Nia looked irritated. “It is hard to be around people who do not understand the language of gifts.”

I made the gesture of agreement. The blond man came back with two plates of broiled fish.

“It was hard,” he said. “I couldn’t even add a garnish.”

Nia and the oracle ate quickly and neatly with their hands. The rest of us tried not to stare at them.

When they were done, Nia said, “I am going into the forest. If I can find the right kind of wood, I’ll make a trap. I have been afraid to go down by the lake, since your people seemed to be everywhere on it. But now I am less afraid. And if I cannot eat your food, I will have to find food for myself.”

I made the gesture of agreement.

“So many new things! How do I get out of this house?”