Rocky can’t just spend all day waiting around for me, but why don’t they have someone in the tunnel at all times? If my crewmates were still around, we would definitely rotate a watch or something. Heck, Ilyukhina would probably be camped out here nonstop and only leave when she had to sleep.

What if they are having different people in the tunnel? How do I know Rocky is just one person? I don’t know how to tell Eridians apart. Maybe I’ve been talking to six different people. That’s an unsettling thought.

No… that’s not it. I’m pretty sure Rocky is just Rocky. The ridges on his carapace and rocky protrusions on his hands are unique. I remember there’s an irregular craggy bit sticking up out of one of his fingers… yeah. It’s the same guy.

If you looked at a rock for several hours, and someone replaced it with a very similar, but slightly different rock, you would know.

Okay, so where is the rest of the crew? I’m alone because my crewmates didn’t make it. But Eridians have better technology, space-wise. Bigger ship, nigh-indestructible hull material. There has to be a crew in there.

Ah! I bet Rocky’s the captain! He puts himself at risk by talking to the scary alien. Everyone else stays back on the ship. That’s what Captain Kirk would do. So why not Captain Rocky?

Anyway, I have cool stuff I want to do and I’m impatient.

“Yo! Rocky!” I yell. “Come here!”

I listen for any sounds of movement. “Come on, man! Your entire ranged sensory input is sound—I bet you can hear a pin drop a mile away! You know I’m calling you! Move your… whatever serves as your butt! I want to talk!”

I wait and wait, but no Rocky.

My guess is I’m a pretty high priority to him. So whatever he’s doing must be really important. After all, he’s got a ship to deal with. He probably needs to eat and sleep. Well, he has to eat, anyway—all biological organisms need to get energy somehow. I don’t know if Eridians sleep.

Come to think of it… sleep might not be such a bad idea. Out of the past forty-eight hours I’ve had a two-hour nap and nothing else. Rocky’s clock is still there, wedged between a grab bar and the divider wall. It’s ticking away as normal. It’s interesting that his clock only has five digits. By my math, it’ll roll over back to ℓℓℓℓℓ every five hours or so. Maybe that’s the length of an Eridian day?