"Certainly. Didn't the first man tell how he instructed us?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Ingomar said, confused. "But I didn't remem ... that is.... Well, I didn't believe it."
The birds eyed each other again. "I like him," one said. "If there's anything I hate, it's a completely honest person."
The other gave him a vicious peck on his back. "Shut up!" it said, "Do you want him to think we condone dishonesty?"
"Of course not," the other retorted hotly, "I just meant that, considering social protocol, it is sometimes kind to tell a very small lie."
Ingomar was speechless. He looked back at his ship, standing tall and straight, ready to blast itself into the sky again. He glanced around at the lonely landscape. Finally he said, "It is difficult to see a difference between you two. Do you have names that I might be able to use?"
"Oh, yes. We beg your pardon. How uncivil of us. Our name, translated into your tongue, is Pisces."
"The fish?"
"Well," they said, "from our home planet the constellation does not look like a fish."