"No plagiarism," Lalita observes. "Well, it had to happen eventually. What's your backup plan?"

"Nothing concrete. I've thought about it, but don't have a general approach for the situation. Could skip this one. Could disguise myself - they're humanoids, if I land in a desert I can wear one of those headwraps and be unidentifiable - and directly offer the plans to someone and disappear. Could hide them somewhere where they'll be found, with a dead scientist's name on them."

"Dead scientist seems like the most plausible way to get it done," he says. "Let's find one who was working on something that mostly seems like the right direction."

Isabella nods and starts translating the new parameters into computer-executable instructions.

He smiles.

"I'll happily read the alien science," he says, grinning. "But we'll have to pick someone who's as recently dead as possible, or it won't make as much sense for them to have undiscovered works..."

"Right. This one only died a month ago," she says, pointing at a name. "Let's find out where he used to haunt..."

It's all very exciting. He is excited.

Eventually they find a place where he was known to visit. "But," Isabella says, "if it's been not found for the last month - one of us should go down in person and tuck it into a nook someplace. Landing it on a desk won't work. Unless you can do the math precise enough to find a place to tuck it all rolled up where it'll still poke out enough to be spotted soon."

"We'd need better scanning equipment for that," he says. "All right. You want to go down or shall I?"

"I think I can pass for a local more easily, if only because I'm female and have an excuse to wear one of those headwraps to disguise the fact that my ears don't touch my shoulders. Of course, if I get caught at all, I hope you will be paying attention to a moment when no one's looking to fetch me up again."

"Of course."

Isabella has headwraps; she doesn't wear them much, shipboard, but they can be part of presenting Vulcan if she feels she needs to do that. With a little work she's all wrapped up like a native. "Suppose this will do?"

"You look very fashionable," he assures her, kissing her nose.

She laughs and kisses his nose. "All right. Let's see if we can find an image of his actual signature instead of just writing his name in our own handwriting."

What if Lalita snuggles her while they wait? What then?

Then snuggling will be accomplished. That is what will happen if he does that.

Excellent. Snuggling should be accomplished as often as possible.

"Good luck!"

And he brings her back, just like that.

It is time to celebrate with kisses!

Mm. Kisses.

"Are you going to tell her about your alien concubine?" he asks mischievously.

"Does my alien concubine wish to meet my mother?"

"Sure," he laughs. "As long as we lie to her about where I came from."

"As long as I tell her how we met, I do not think she'll pry."

"Well, you can let her have that much, then."

"I expect she will think it is cute."

"In that case, I think I think she's cute," he giggles.

"I believe you and Renée will get along."

"Good!"

Isabella plots a course for Earth. "My mother sometimes calls me 'Bella'. I do not prefer it, but I allow it from her; I would prefer you did not adopt the habit."

"Okay," he says agreeably.

There is room for both of those things on a four-day trip.

Perfect.

Very extremely convenient! Look how convenient. This amount of convenience should be celebrated. With hugs.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, smiling.

Renée hugs him too. "Likewise! Now how did you catch my Bella's eye?"

"Oh, the usual," he says. "Distress signal in deep space, she was the first to respond... do you want to tell the rest, darling?"

"It's more fun than it sounds," Lalita says brightly, sliding his arm around Isabella's waist and kissing her on the cheek.

"Yes, and now she's not all alone anymore," says Lalita. "She has her - " he pauses deliberately, then finishes, "boyfriend."

"And I," says Lalita, hugging Isabella again, "said 'I love you'."

Lalita gives his girlfriend a kiss.

"It's beautiful," says Lalita. "I'm glad you like it."

Lalita laughs.

"A lot of it's about people killing each other over power or honour or both," says Lalita. "Sometimes they do it for love instead, just to switch it up."

"Especially the old stuff," says Lalita, nodding.

"I suppose that's true," sighs Renée. "It's so much easier to judge, when it's from somewhere else, isn't it?"

"Always."

"Your house is adorable," Lalita exclaims.

"Thank you!" laughs Renée. "I try to make it, you know, inviting." She pats a rose blossom as they pass through the yard into the building.

"It's cute! It suits you."

Inside, Renée has apparently anticipated guestly hunger; there's a crumb cake and a brewing pot of tea on the coffee table. She picks up the teapot and starts pouring. "I know how Isabella takes hers; Lalita?"

"It varies," he says. "Today, with nothing."

"It was very pretty," says Lalita.

"And there was a ringed planet, but the pictures did not come out very well because of some electromagnetic disturbances."

"That was a shame," he agrees.

"I like ringed planets," says Renée. "There's a teacher's conference coming up that takes place on a cruise around Saturn; I think I'm going to go."

"That sounds lovely," says Lalita. "I hope you have fun."

"I think I will. So now you know what I do with myself, if you didn't already; what about you? Apart from accompanying Isabella on survey and teaching her Klingon."

"Nothing really," he shrugs. "I had a ship for a while and I liked to travel in it, but then it broke down and I had to sell it to a museum, so now I travel with Isabella instead."

"Sightseeing, then?" Renée inquires.

"Sure."

"And come up with a clever pseudonym. I don't think 'polarbear' will blend in here."

"Hah. No. Leave it to me," he says, kissing the top of her head.

"All right then." He can fuss with the language, she can guide the computer to tell her about the salient characteristics of the science networks.

"That was cute," he declares.

"Yes. It was."

"Shall we celebrate?"

Mmm, celebration.