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achieved certain cultural and technological milestones. From each species we identify four young beings who possess skills or attributes admired in our culture and request that they spend a standard year with us so we may evaluate them and determine if their culture is a good fit for our own, and if ours is a good fitfor them. The honorable members of the selection committee have picked four beings from your planet, and you, Ezekiel, are one of them.”
    I said nothing for a long time. Ms. Price stared at me like I was an idiot, which, coincidentally, I felt like. Dr. Roop widened his big yellow eyes slightly as the clock ticked on.
    Finally, I thought of something to say. “Is this a joke?” As soon as I said it, I realized this question might not suggest I was the absolute best the human race had to offer.
    Ms. Price breathed in sharply through her nose, as if my question caused her pain. “Ezekiel, I assure you that the president is far too busy to play pranks on an irrelevant twelve-year-old.”
    I realized the joke theory was not holding up under scrutiny. For now, I was willing to run with the idea that this giraffe guy was an alien. Even so, I had some questions.
    â€œDr. Roop,” I started.
    â€œPlease,” he said, waving a furry hand. “There’s no need to be so formal. Call me Klhkkkloplkkkuiv.”
    â€œUh, no,” I said. “I’m not going to do that.” His name sounded like he was choking on a fish bone. “Look, I’m confused. Also freaked out, but we’ll deal with confusion first. I mean, this Confederation of United Planets sounds an awful lot like the United Federation of Planets, which is from a TV show. You can see why I have a hard time buying it.”
    â€œCertainly,” he said, spreading his fingers in the Vulcan salute. “ Star Trek. I find it charming. You see, Zeke, for many decades we’ve known Earth to be a strong candidate for Confederation membership, and in accordance with our long-standing practice, we have used certain back channels tofilter facts about the wider galaxy into your speculative narratives.”
    â€œYou’re telling me that sci-fi is influenced by actual fact?”
    â€œSome of it, yes.”
    â€œAnd there really is a government of peaceful and benevolent aliens out there?”
    â€œYes,” he said.
    â€œAnd ships that can travel between stars without being limited by the laws of physics?”
    â€œAs you understand those laws, absolutely.”
    â€œAnd we’re talking, and your mouth doesn’t really seem suited to make words in our language, so there must be some kind of universal translator?”
    â€œMs. Price injected you with the appropriate nanites before our meeting. They are able to process and interpret virtually any language, spoken or written, and in most cases do so instantaneously.”
    â€œThen why do you sound like you have a French accent?”
    â€œDutch,” Ms. Price said. “He sounds Dutch.”
    â€œOn occasion, the translator will find analogues from your own linguistic experiences to help convey certain cultural inflections.”
    â€œBut,” I said, “it looks like you’re speaking English. I could read your lips.”
    â€œIt’s an illusion created by the nanites. Otherwise the discontinuity between a being’s words and its movements might prove jarring. The translator function will also provide equivalents of nonlinguistic noises, such as laughter and sighs. Body language you will have to work out on your own.”
    â€œWow. Okay.”
    â€œYou may also, on occasion, detect a slight delay in the translation when the system attempts to find a familiar equivalent in your language and then opts, instead, to provide explanatory wording. So, if I mention a type of food native to my planet, such as [ spiny leaves with dried fruit ], or perhaps an unfamiliar alien custom such as [ the ritualistic