WE LEAP INTO ACTION LIKE only EngiNerds can.
John Henry Knox gathers some supplies from the fridge and then gets to work at the stove.
Mikaela finds a giant thermos and fills it with ice-cold water.
I grab a tube of antibiotic ointment and a few Band-Aids and help Dan cover up the scrape on his shin.
Just a few minutes after he limped through the doorway, Dan’s bandaged up, thoroughly hydrated, and seated at the kitchen table with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.
John Henry Knox forgot to get him a fork. But Dan’s clearly as hungry as one of his robots. He just nudges some of the steam-spewing eggs onto one of the pieces of warm, buttery toast and scarfs it all down at a somewhat alarming speed.
Then he wipes his mouth.
Sits back.
Lets out a little burp.
And says:
“First of all, if any of you ever get a chance to go for a ride in a Plerpian spaceship, take it. That. Was. Rad.”
I don’t know what “Plerpian” means, but hearing Dan say this, the last of the weight on my shoulders—all the worry and guilt I felt about letting him board that ship—drifts away.
But half a second later, the delight disappears from Dan’s face, and a new kind of weight settles on me in the old one’s place.
“Now,” Dan says, “on to the other stuff…” He pauses to take a breath. “I guess I should start by telling you that our alien pal’s name is Bempulthorpemckrackleflackin. But mostly what you need to understand is that it’s all about the beans.”