Chapter 20 - Work and Play

   Now that Joe and Ben could eat, sleep, go to the bathroom. There was the matter of getting a bath. These first couple of days recuperating had been mainly relaxing and waiting to feel better. His friend nodded. He understood.

   "Bathe. Swim. Shower. Tub. Hot tub. Beach."

   It was another one of those foreigner conversations. He slowly got across to him, and explained that they didn't really do that. Their skin produced an oil, and it coated their hair. They had a fine, dense hair covering that really seemed more like chamois to the touch. They would occasionally take what he eventually understood to be their man made bulk imitation of the skin oil. Cover in it, rubbing it in. It dried off and left their fine chamois treated. It was fragrant when he let Joe smell a container of it.

   Joe asked if it was safe for him and Ben to try it. His friend didn't know... yet. Apparently his hand held translator was something of a cell phone as well. He was instructed to try a little to see. He rubbed a little on Joe's arm. He sniffed it, it was fragrant. It felt like a fine oil, and it did evaporate quickly. Like Adelaide's skin moisturizer, he thought. When he had no adverse reaction over the next day and night, he was free to try it. He did. The corner of the bathroom, had a rough floor. Footing, for covering in oil and not slipping. A square on the wall was different from the rest of the wall here. Looked kind of like the back of the toilet. He pressed it, ready to jump out at a moment's notice as jets of blue fire came out to clean the little "shower room".

   Just warm air. He got back in when the hot air was done, and oiled up. Then enjoyed the air drying. It reminded him of the blow driers for after washing your hands at a restroom. He smelled nice. His skin felt wonderful and smooth. Wow. Another thing he could "invent" and would benefit the rich and elite back home and he couldn't afford. He laughed internally. The hell was even the point sometimes, in inventing and helping with some things. If he could get the alien to give him a small spaceship at home? No point. The military would seize it. Weaponize it. Want to keep it a secret until they had it perfected and were ready to deploy it when they felt they needed it. Hell, they would probably lock him up somewhere, to keep the secret. Maybe even do away with him, because it was "national security".

   He was beginning to wonder, what the hell was wrong with his own home. Primitive cultures fought over things, and even over nothing. His modern countries weren't so much different. They fought over other resources, but resources all the same. Who had access to the hunting grounds or the fruit trees? Who owned and had access to the mineral rights. The hell was the difference. Advanced civilization wasn't really so advanced and civilized when you peeled back the skin of it and really looked at what was underneath. Human nature. It was sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly.

   After several days of relaxing and talking with his friend and his entourage, he noticed the talk was changing. They were inordinately concerned with certain things. As a mathematician and a physics research professor? He understood.

   Units.

   Any talk of mathematics, the whole point of him being here? Would come down to units. Miles per hour, and kilometers per hour. It was the same calculations, but the results were different. There were different units.

   They understood the concepts he did. A year. A solar year. The time it took the planet you were on, to make exactly one trip around the sun? Was a year. A day. The time it took your planet to spin one time on its axis? Was a complete day. These units were different for both of them. Joe's equations that involved time? Would not relate to their own. Then, it took no small amount of time? To talk about time itself.

   A day, consisted of 24 hours to him. He suddenly realized that was an arbitrary decision somewhere along the line in human development. They could just as easily have decided on 10 hours to a day, or 100 hours to a day. The whole planet simply used it, it was universal. On earth. Year and day to him? Meant nothing here. Well, it meant something? It was just different.

   The arbitrary 24 hours to divide the day was another unit problem. So too were 60 minutes to the hour, and 60 seconds to the minute. 360 degrees to a complete circle or sphere? Another units clash. They used 100 degrees for the same thing. Pi was there? It was a different value, though it was the same thing.

   It was like English traditional measurements, clashing with the European metric system. Science had long ago went with metric as the universal units language? Here it was the same thing but worse. Units, took a while to decide on, then to test that things were working out. The entourage that wouldn't leave his friends or indeed his own side? Were quite happy and excited when these things one by one were out of the way and cataloged.

   Mercifully, they had a base ten mathematics system, even if all the units were different, and all the names and symbols were different. Their variables, for instance? Made obviously no sense to him. But... they slowly kept track and fed everything into what was obviously the computer there.

   As a computer programmer, Joe was inordinately fascinated with it. Large, wraparound desk. Multiple screens. The keyboard and other controls made no sense whatsoever. His friend though, and his entourage? Handled that. It took a couple weeks just to decide they finally had all their units straight, and that the friend, the translator... could relate them back accurately to him.

   They tested things like simple geometry. When things all worked out for Joe? They were getting there. When everyone finally agreed. Everyone being him, his friend and the entourage... and whoever they were in contact with? That units were finally conquered, and math could now be translated effectively? A little celebration. It looked to Joe like any party where academics achieved success in their project.

   They were clearly having a party and having fun. Lots of food, lots of drink. Other entourage members showed up and joined in. Everyone wanted to marvel at him and Ben, naturally. They weren't really dancing, but the obviously elevated mood seemed to call for a lot of jumping and springing around.

   Ben was at his side, watching the proceedings.

   "Joe? How are you getting along."

   "My cracked ribs are about healed. You?"

   "Oh yeah. Not that."

   "What then."

   "You, uh... you seem to really be having fun. Your math class."

   "Hell yeah. You know how exciting this is for me? Its like the teacher picked me out, for advanced classes. This, is going to be the greatest thing ever, we get this done."

   "Well, I'm happy for you, Carp. Honestly."

   "What's the matter, Ben."

   "Joe? I'm... bored. I was just your taxi ride. I crashed the math party. Honestly? Nothing for me to... do. I'm just... sitting around. Waiting to start to die, basically."

   "I'm sorry, Ben. Really. I am. You have no idea. And its not fair. You made this all happen."

   Ben sighed.

   "Its not your fault."

   They sat there until the awkward moment passed somewhat. Then? Ben spoke again.

   "God, what I wouldn't give. For a steak and a beer."

   Joe chuckled with him.

   "Same here. I never ate so many vegetables and salads in my life. Hey. When our ribs are all healed up more? We can jog some, I bet. Pretty sure we can do that."

   "Yeah. It'll be something to do, at least."

   Another pause, watching the elevated mood of what was clearly... a party.

   "Carp?"

   "Hmm."

   "Is it just me, or is this a party."

   "Oh, yeah. Just look at them. All hopping around..."

   "Carp?"

   "Yeah."

   "They never acted like this before. This is new."

   "Well. We're celebrating. I mean, I know it might make no sense to you, but... we're celebrating the breakthrough. We have units straight. A day, a year. Their idea of an hour, a second. Distance, time, weight, pressure, density. All the things we need to make physics equations work, and translate back and forth."

   "No, no. I get that, Carp. I'm just wondering something. I guess you don't see it. I do. You think pilots don't have little parties? Hell yeah. But... where is it."

   "Where's... what."

   "The beer, Carp. Where the hell is the beer. It ain't the food. I tried everything. It ain't the different drinks. But I'm telling you... its something."

   Joe got that. Ben was more practical. Now that Ben brought it up, it begged a good question.

   It took a while to get his point across to his friend, who stopped his party fun to indulge him. It was another of those foreigner conversations, until his host got it. He brought him over a container, and lifted the lid. It looked like dried and pulverized leaves. Like a cook would have oregano but ground finer. His host admitted he hadn't really thought about this. He talked to his group, and they all had a conversation. They consulted someone, somewhere. It was a medical question, basically. Was the stuff they enjoyed safe for Joe and Ben and their own body chemistry and systems. They must have gotten an answer.

   They were using what looked like a small measuring spoon. A human cook might think of it as a teaspoon measure. For them to try it? They went with a much smaller one. They put it in one of the drinks they had, that Ben had tried to see if it was the "beer" he figured had to be somewhere around. They each drank it, and they waited. Nothing.

   Everyone was standing around, observing. Talking to each other, happy the new guys were trying to join in the keg party, basically. After a few more, Joe thought he felt something. Ben did too. They finally got half measures of the teaspoon each in their drink. Down the hatch.

   It started to hit them finally. Joe kept a running commentary up, then Ben laughed and told him it was fine. They were both laughing and talking more, and doing it excitedly. They did seem to have more energy and a great mood elevation. Later on, when it was obviously safe and having the expected effect, they got a full measure each in their drink. That's when it hit them full on.

   They ended up jumping around and laughing and having as much fun as everyone else. The party was happy. Ben said they were the teenagers that finally tried beer at a keg party. Joe said it reminded him more of the first time he ever smoked pot, same difference. In their heightened playful mood? They laughed that they had finally tried "space weed", you just eat it instead of smoked it.

   The found out over the course of the party, that it affected smells and tastes. Things they were used to the scent of? Were interesting and different. Same with tastes. Joe gave up trying to describe and categorize the effects, and just had fun. Ben put his finger on it easier. He felt like a kid again. Boundless energy. Inordinately happy over nothing. Jumping, laughing, fun over nothing. They were toddlers at play again.

   Like any big celebration they had ever known at home, the party finally wound down. The powdered leaves which was what it seemed to be? Slowly lost effect. Taking more, produced less and less effect. Eventually? They were all growing tired, though slowly. They sat and laid in groups, tired and now having quiet conversations in small pairs and groups.

   Body language now showed they were still in an elevated mood, though somewhat tired but not yet sleepy. Little lip touches, and head scratches were common and returned now. Joe giggled and touched Ben's upper lip, then scratched his hair. He chuckled and did it back. When in Rome, and it did seem to fit the mood.

   His friend, his host finally joined them. He sat on the wide flat chair and drew his legs up and curled his long arms around his drawn up legs and rested his chin on his knees contentedly.

   Ben sleepily asked where they kept all the "assholes". Everyone was polite and friendly. Was there a country of assholes somewhere on the other side of the planet? Joe translated for him. He asked where all the mean selfish people were. Didn't they have any. The translated voice told them. That, was a very very long time ago. That had been taken care of way back when. Ancient history, basically.

   Tomorrow? Everyone would be sleeping in, and less energy. Joe got the idea. You sleep in, after a party that lasted half the night. His friend promised to tell him about the ancient history, and to remind him if he forgot.