"Kiss me, Benji," Aia said, not taking her palms off his happy face. "Please".

29. 2330th year. Matt.

On the day when Hubble has found alien's ship in the area of the Ophiuchus, Matt just went to school for the first time in his life.

So it was just circumstances that he spent most of the day in ignorance: a large holographic screen in the school foyer told the first-graders only about the location of school buffets, toilets, about the rules of behavior and didn't spin news at all.

Later, in the evening, already lying in bed, Matt has been recrossing the incident in his memory: the cold September dawn, the people fussing around him, the fright in the eyes of the parents, the third time revising the evening news, and Lukasz, to whose reaction the boy was at a loss to find a definition.

Lukasz took the news calmly, even commonly. He grinned only as usual - whether to himself, or to the future, which again turned with the next intricate side - and that was all.

But Matt didn't sleep till very midnight, he looked out the window at the clouded sky and imagined an aliens like the Makers, then like ouzels with arms, then like lemurs in Alfa, and when he, after all, fell asleep, his dreams were bad and restless.

By the morning it was found out that while the mankind excited by the find was discussing the probable fruits of the union and the horrors of the intervention, a alien spaceship was approaching to the Earth, sending ahead of itself a strange lingering sounds.

"What do you think about this?" asked Lukasz at breakfast, digging in the tofu on his plate with his fork.

"Song," the boy shrugged. "It goes without saying."

He finished his meal in a hurry, grabbed a backpack, smiled at winking Lukasz and went to school, no more paying attention to the next news, deeply hidden grownup's alarm and Lukasz's eyes with the sparkles of craftiness.

He really believed that what was sounded in the morning in the news was a song. And taking into account his childhood spent in orbit in the company of the Makers, he didn't see anything extraordinary in all this matter.

Well, guests. Well, from afar. But they in fact warned about the arrival. They even sing songs - quite like whales - about wanderings and space. What else do you need?

The day passed noisily and briskly, and in the evening the UN Security Council reported through the official channel that wherever the alien spaceship entering the Solar system subsequently went, there should be present at least one representative of the community of the Makers and at least one android among the earthlings.

30. 2330th year. Aia.

In the corner in front of the projector, a small, three-dimensional copy of Selin Juti looked up at the invisible front camera:

"Good evening, dear audience. With you France 24 and evening news. That's the second day in a row that the whole Earth is discussing an alien interstellar spaceship discovered near the solar system. Today we have a guest, Director General, Institute of Nanobiology..."

The camera shifted, and next to Selin, a bald little man in an expensive business suit materialized out of nowhere.

Aia reached for the remote control and turned off the holo. The people blinked and melted, and she carefully climbed over Benji, that was lying next to her, get off the couch and went toward the bathroom.

"Do you think their fears about viruses are imagined?" Benji asked without opening his eyes.

"Definitely," came from the bathroom with the sound of running water. "I even think they are not scared. I think they just have nothing to talk about."

"And if there were no Makers on the Earth?"

"Benji, you know even if there were no Makers on the Earth, they still wouldn't have anything to talk about. Let them talk what they want to talk about."

A voice call pinged off, and Benji accepted it without opening his eyes:

"Salute, Lukasz. Do you need Aia?"

"Salute, Benji. I need you both. When this singing tin can stops, we all three should be there."

"Are we going to sing, too?" Benji grinned, opened his eyes and get off the couch. "I want to note I don't practice political cantatas."