"Do not be sorry." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Shall we knock off for the night?"
She put her hand over his, shook her head. "No. Let's look at the latest films from the ship."
"As you wish." Ohashi pulled away, threaded a new film into the projector.
Presently, the screen came alive to a blue-grey alcove filled with pale light: one of the "class" rooms in the spaceship. A squat, green-skinned figure stood in the center of the room. Beside the Galactic was the pedestal-footed projection board that all five used to illustrate their "lectures". The board displayed a scene of a wide blue lake, reeds along the shore stirring to a breeze.
The Galactic swayed. His face moved like a ripple of water. He said: "Ahon'atu'uklah'shoginai'eástruru." The green arms moved up and down, undulating. The webbed hands came out, palms facing and almost touching, began chopping from the wrists: up, down, up, down, up, down....
On the projection board the scene switched to an under-water view: myriad swimming shapes coming closer, closer—large-eyed fish creatures with long ridged tails.
"Five will get you ten," said Ohashi. "Those are the young of this Galactic race. Notice the ridge."