The ducks were all lined up in a row. Allen was just behind Griselda, who glanced back at him.

“Isn’t this fun?!” she cried.

“Ummm,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be a thrill kill,” Griselda scoffed. “I love Follow the Leader.”

“We don’t have this game where I came from,” Allen admitted.

“Whaaaaatt?” asked Tommy, who was snooping. “Are you from another planet or something?”

That gave Allen pause. Again, should he enter into emissary mode and offer his people’s greetings from across the galaxy, or maintain his pose as merely a fellow earthling from another land?

In his last consultation with his advisors, they had suggested he remain cagey but avoid lying out loud. Fortunately, Cupcake intervened.

“What have I told you about making fun of people who are different from you, Tommy?” she asked.

“Awwww, Mom,” Tommy whined. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I apologize for my little boy, Mr. Allen,” Cupcake said. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. No offense.”

“None taken. And just ‘Allen’ will do. That’s my first name.”

“Oh! What’s your last name?”

“Well, you couldn’t pronounce it,” Allen said without thinking.

“Dear me, Mr. Spock!” she laughed, because her family loved Star Trek. “Are you from the planet Vulcan?”

This was getting too close, but luckily it was a specific yes-or-no question.

“No,” he laughed, uneasily, and Tommy noticed he was uncomfortable but decided not to speak.

Allen realized at once that he was not like the others. Would they notice? From the images they’d seen from the starship, it had been clear that these earthlings looked very much like themselves — amazing to discover that life appeared on this planet in a form similar to their own — but the small differences had not been obvious.

He sidled up to another duck who was not quite like the others.

“Hi! I’m Allen,” Allen said. “I’m, um, new around here.”

The other duck looked him over, his eyes lingering on Allen’s antennae and his almond eyes.

“Good to meet you. I’m Duckzilla,” said the other duck, who had spiky scales on his head and down his back. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Now Allen faced a decision. Should he explain that he was an emissary, one of a team of travelers from another star system? Or should he withhold that information until he could ascertain whether this “Earth” had a civilization advanced enough to accept a visitor from outer space?

He chose caution.

“So what’s it like around here?” Allen asked as if he was a newcomer hoping to settle and assimilate.

“Oh, we’re ducks,” Duckzilla said warily. “I’d guess we’re the same everywhere.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Allen. “What do you folks do for fun?”

“We line up in a row a lot,” said another duck nearby. “Hi, I’m Griselda. Where are you from? I don’t recognize the accent.”

“I come from a long way away,” Allen smiled. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Try me,” Griselda said sweetly.

Allen thought of the farthest place he could imagine on the other side of this planet. “It’s near a city called Osaka.”

“I knew it!” Griselda squealed. “I thought you kind of looked Japanese.”

Duckzilla looked at her askance. “Trust me, Griselda, he doesn’t look Japanese at all.”

There was an awkward silence.