T’Shawn’s eyes widened. She’d been so enthralled by her guests she’d forgotten Makkani, who was at the kitchen counter, rubbing spices into the meat, oblivious. She hissed, three times, until he looked over his shoulder. The boy stiffened when he saw them.

‘Come here!’

He ran to his mother’s side, head down. The tem’ondri laughed.

‘Really, no need,’ Vrawn said, and the others chattered, no need, no need.

‘He must learn,’ T’Shawn told them.

Ula felt his eyes narrow.

‘Go on then.’

The boy crossed his arms, bowing. The rapid click of mandibles filled the room. Their whispers were loud; learn, learn.

‘A fine spawn,’ Vrax said, nodding. ‘Two segments, yes?’

‘Nearly three,’ Ula said, and he turned to his wife. ‘This is Vrawn, Vrax and Goll. They’ve come from Daar Orr. They’ve brought herb.’

‘Oh, good,’ T’shawn said, her voice dew-neutral. She took the offered bag. ‘We’ll boil a pot. You can all make yourselves comfortable.’

His wife and son went into the kitchen to make tea. Ula guided their visitors to the seats, where they sat arranging their lower limbs into positions of comfort. Ula took his own seat, shifting. The dip in his hard-backed chair, shaped to cater for the overly large abdomen of the host species, was awkward, but they were all made that way. The temon’dri were arthropods, as it was said in Earth-speak, Mon’dra’s dominant life form. Everything on the planet was created for their needs. Sofas, houses, even humans.

Vrawn sat forward, gesturing at the large living space.

‘You have done well. Your farm is looking fine. How do things fare with the crops and cattle?’

‘Grell, grell,’ Ula said, against a soft clatter of mandibles, quiet appreciation for his use of their language. ‘The landcane harvest was better than last term, and we sold a record amount of baa’dra produce.’

‘Your success has brought you fame,’ Groll said, speaking at last. ‘Your name is heard far over the mountains.’

‘We’re a simple operation; we simply try,’ Ula told them. The soft clatter returned.

T’Shawn and Makkani entered with a pot of tea surrounded by five cups balanced on a tray. Their son poured for the visitors while his wife joined Ula on a chair beside him.

‘Now go and play,’ T’Shawn told the boy as he filled the last cup. Ula caught her eye, saw fear.

‘But Mum—’

‘You heard me.’

‘Do as your mother tells you,’ Ula said. Makkani bowed to the arthropods and his parents, and ran upstairs, his mi’owa clattering with every step.

‘Fine, fine spawn …’ Vrawn said. T’Shawn forced a smile, while Ula felt himself flinch. ‘You must be wondering why we are here?’

‘We are curious,’ T’Shawn said, and looked at Ula. ‘Aren’t we?’

‘Very.’