"Come along, Carris. It's time you were in bed."
"But it was just getting interesting!" she protested. Carris of the Saj family(pronounced
'sage'), future Sarah of the Enterprise was wearing Earth pajamas, her hair in two Earth
braids, while watching a human television show called "Nova".
"Good to see you learning some actual facts." said Mrs. Saj, as her husband scooped
Carris up into his arms. "It's amazing the amount of classic fiction you've consumed in
the past week. You could be learning Earth history and geography, which is why we're
here."
"I could learn those things at home." Carris pointed out.
"But they give you a lot more details when you're actually down on Earth."
"Speaking of which," said Mr. Saj. "tomorrow we celebrate this planet's most famous
holiday. Do you remember what that is?"
Carris searched her brain. "Speak-Like-A-Pirate Day?"
He ruffled her hair. "Christmas, Carris!" He plopped her into bed.
"Oh yeah." she said. "Their way of celebrating Christ's birth."
"I believe Santa Claus is more iconic of the twenty-first century."
"I've been meaning to ask," said Carris. "For humans, the answer varies with age
difference. Is Santa real?"
"You'll find out when you're older." Mrs. Saj said, before her husband could speak.
"Everything's when you're older." complained Carris.
"That's because you have a habit of asking for classified information." said Mr. Saj.
"Now get to sleep."
Carris had fallen asleep with a book of Earth history against her ribs. She was behind in
her studies. Now she was awake because of a clatter from downstairs. She dismissed
it, assuming it was her parents getting things ready for tomorrow to surprise her. Then
another thought struck her: This house didn't have a Gallifreyan defense system, and
burglary was common on Earth. She took a sharpened pencil from her bedside table,
and began to walk down the stairs. The pencil was all she would need if they were
hostile.
"Sorry 'bout tha'." said a gruff, old voice.
"It doesn't seem to have waked anyone up, by some miracle." said a tired, somewhat
New-Yorkan voice. "Why don't you let me take that, before you break it?"
"I'm getting out. Hurry up down here. My goats, I must retire soon."
"As you keep telling me, sir."
There was a noise like jello being sucked through a vacuum. She reached the end of
the stairs. There stood an old male (by his height and appearance Carris would've
guessed sixteen, but her instinct told her he was much older), wearing a red and gold
velvet shirt.
"I thought burglars dressed in black." said Carris.
He turned, almost dropping the brightly colored package in his hands. He gave the
pencil an appropriately wary glance, then said with reproach, "You should be in bed."
She ignored this. His hair had shifted away from his ear, which was pointed.
"Are you a Vulcan? Hang on, a Vulcan wouldn't be caught dead in that shirt. What
planet are you from?"
"Would you put down the pencil?"
"Oh, sure." she tossed the pencil away, and sat down on the couch.
"I'm from this planet, as a matter of fact." he said. "Er, I'm with the Midnight Delivery
Service."
"Never heard of you." She settled herself into a more comfortable position.
"Well, you wouldn't have, seeing as how you've just arrived on Earth." he said.
"How did you," Carris yawned. "know that?"
"Goodnight." he said. He snapped his fingers, and she was asleep.
When she awoke, a blanket was over her, a stack of gifts lay under a gleaming tree,
and Bernard was gone.