Ringing In Year Six

“Happy Orbit.”

The voice was familiar. He turned, found himself face-to-face with Polly, who he hadn’t seen since landing day. Not ‘Landing Day’, the anniversary, which was six weeks ago, but the landing day, the first one. She’d been loading canvas bags onto a rollaround, one of the biggest ones, and had winked at him as he passed with his stake-partners. “Hi. Hi.”

She grinned. “You look different. Tanned. More muscular. I often wondered if you’d tone up.”

He nodded. “I spent year three walking with a Fwolp super-family. I toned up. Since I got back I exercise just enough to stay that way. You look great.”

“I like to prettify for parties. And the dress…” she twirled, did a little shimmy. “Cathy made it. Fits nice. How much Fwol did you learn?”

“I can pray. I can I can ask for food; I can ask for seconds. I can describe land formations for the purposes of scouting. I can ask where the humans are.”

“Most of what I know is about trading.” She sipped her drink. “We get a small group three, four times a year that brings in that grey cotton to exchange for food, textiles. Tools. You know.”

“Sure.”

“I also know, umm, ‘gway eh gwai, pwo yommo’.”

He flushed. “They taught you that?”

“Well, they apparently taught you, didn’t they?”

“They caught Ian and Sarah sneaking off one night. They had to explain themselves”

“Sure. So, do you want to?”

“Do I—”

“Want to sneak off?”