The Alien Way of Life - English Version

5. Small Things

Earth, New York, 05.11.2059

"Wait, please stay still," Lyra rummaged in her makeup bag. Ségouin obediently stood still as Lyra touched up his makeup to ensure no green patches were showing. "Do you do this regularly at school?"

"No worries, Mouse."

Lyra checked to make sure everything was covered, emphasizing how important it was. Her eyes were much too large for makeup to make any difference. Ségouin had it easier. She didn't want little Ségouin to get into the wrong hands.

"Okay, you can go in now, have fun!"

Ségouin hopped off eagerly to his Friday art class at MoMA.

Lyra turned around and strolled through the streets with Brutalism3000 in her ears, heading to the small café where she liked to sit while Ségouin was in class.

The ambiance consisted of many candles, small porcelain cats, and furniture that was so old it would look ancient even in a black-and-white photo with former guest Bayard Rustin. After a long week, this was very relaxing for her synapses.

Golda, the owner, had already expected her and waved to her kindly. Lyra waved back and settled into her cozy regular spot on the couch by the window. There, cocoa and a chocolate sundae were waiting for her.

She spooned away contentedly. She had decided to treat herself to a nice weekend. Darian had disappointed her today... okay, not really disappointed, her expectations weren't that high, but at least he had confused her. While he was chatting nicely with Lukas, Philipp, and the others, he didn't exchange a word with her. After the fun pizza evening, she found that incomprehensible. Her brain was a bit bigger than that of humans, but she had decided not to have any capacity for this kindergarten.

Instead, she wanted to go to the museum with Ségouin and her parents - if they had time, making sure at least one of them had time on the weekend. There was a new Kandinsky exhibition that she was very excited about.

She pulled out her Padd and continued researching the Spanish Civil War. She was looking at a photo of an iron lighter pierced by a cartridge. This lighter was in the breast pocket of a partisan against General Franco's troops - and it saved his life.

Lyra saved the image and considered putting it at the beginning of her presentation. In her mind's eye, she saw the fighter preparing to confront the fascists. He stood in front of the mirror, smoothed his uniform, loaded his weapon, and hoped his mother would be proud of him. Then he left with the others from the assembly point - but he realized he had forgotten his lighter. He said, "Hold on, I'll be right back." The others waited while he quickly went back and grabbed his lighter. You never know.

However it may have been, she found it both shocking and fascinating how such small things could influence the course of history.

Golda went to the window and looked out critically. Lyra also looked out the window. Several police cars raced down the street with their sirens blaring. She took off her headphones. In the distance, she heard very loud chants, "Aliens Go Home." She jumped up, almost knocking over the rest of her cocoa, and wanted to run towards the exit. The small old woman held her back. "Where are you going, girl?" she asked, concerned. "My sibling is in that direction, I need to know what's going on!"

Golda looked into Lyra's eyes and realized that this alien was full of worry but not panicking - and wouldn't be stopped. She reached into her pocket with the card reader and notepad and handed her a pen. "You might need it more urgently."

Lyra looked at Golda and the pen alternately, puzzled. The pen remained silent, but Golda wordlessly removed the cap. A sharp steel tip emerged. Lyra took the pen. "Thank you," and headed towards the door. "Good luck!" Golda called after her as the door closed.