On the planet Plug, the young μ%# is bored to death. Metrard, boulard, dodard, the trilogy routinely crimpes him. Tenacious, he has the feeling of having gone around Plug twenty times; his wonders, his pleasures, his horrors, his knowledge and wisdoms, he has seen everything, read everything, known everything, lived everything.
Change of air! It’s the big problem of travel / expatriation: finding the viable world. The ideal world where ‘one changes air without changing air’, where one changes atmosphere without changing oxygen: a different world with a breathable atmosphere.
At the Travel Agency, several catalogs were communicated to him, classified according to the price/ distance / change of scenery / reception infrastructure. There are all the planets, from the quasi-star of first magnitude to the most pathetic asteroid, enjoying an atmosphere and a P-type gravity, that is to say compatible with Plugian morphology.
Then, the client must choose according to their tastes and means, the degree of wisdom, the lifestyle, the stage of technological development that suits them. Without forgetting to inquire about the reception structures!
Ask any Pluguien, ask him: “Before going on a trip, what is the first question to ask?” He will respond to you from start to finish: “The reception!” How many Pluguiens have been tricked on this point by their travel agent? Far too much.
***
After careful consideration, the young μ%# has chosen a fifth-size planet, the third in a system of 112 orders, in the suburb of a Wx-class galaxy, which the Pluguians call “galaxy W.ww” and the locals “the Milky Way“.
The chosen planet is of the PPP type, as possible for Pluguien, it is even the only one in this case of the entire system. System W24/ST161612b, which is called the sol air system over there. Here, it’s spelled ‘solar’! Don’t understand…
This planet is very far away, so very exotic. Given the customs and wisdoms of the place, the young μ%# has every reason to believe that he will not get bored there. Which is better, it’s given. The least expensive trip, given the distance. It unfortunately hides something. The reception?
Alas yes. It is “so to speak prehistoric“. That’s all the catalog announces. Well, μ%# still wants to know more.
— If I understand correctly, Mr. μ%#, the travel agent tells me, your choice was on the Blue Planet, in other words ‘Earth’. It’s up to you.
He worried me.
— Oh really? You advise against it for me?
The travel agent clears her throat.
— On the contrary, on the contrary! he continued. It’s an enriching experience: total change of scenery guaranteed! Oh yes! Sure…
He coughed again.
— On the other hand, question reception…
— Exactly! interrupted him. The leaflet said…
— The leaflet says nothing because these are things that cannot be printed. The welcome on Earth, dear Sir μ%#, is downright… hmm! let’s say, barbaric. But radical!
— Radical?
— Eh yes. You will be immediately in the mood, no one will take you for a tourist…
***
The argument made me bend; it was of weight. Mingle, incognito, with the crowd of Earthlings, initiate yourself without obstacle into their rites… and especially cut off at the inevitable Plug-Hotel where everything is planned to plunge you back into the routines you were trying to escape. Extremely rare assets in our time!
An objection crossed my mind.
— Then, I asked him. What about the language?
— They are a good plenty on Earth, Mr. μ%#. But your welcoming people will teach you the language of the place.
— Against fees?
— Don’t you think! For the traveler, everything is free there!
— You mean… Even the food? The accommodation?
— Everything, I tell you. Everything!
Fabulous! It’s Cocagne! And all that for such a low price! Without hesitation, I signed the form.
— As you wish, the employee sighed. Now you still have to sign me this…
He handed me a Waiver in case of an accident. I signed without flinching.
— And this…
He handed me a Form for the abandonment of my assets to Pluguian’s works in case of disappearance. I signed without hesitation.
— And again that, he said while showing the Declaration of voluntary and unconstrained departure. I signed without discussing.
— And then this…
He slipped me a Promise of non-judicial recourse against the agent in case of discontent.
I raised my head and the pen. Was this Earth so dangerous?
***
— Peeeeeerfect, Mr. μ%# ! Now everything is in order. If you would like to follow me? invited the travel agent as they stood up.
This guy is really a famous salesman, and I can’t help but admire his craftsmanship. Nevertheless, it’s me who pays, and it’s me who will find myself in the depths of the Universe, on a planet with a welcome “as if prehistoric“… No wonder the change of scenery is guaranteed!
Arrived at the departure lounge, the agent made me go through a narrow door, then followed a series of tortuous and difficult corridors. Obviously, there is never a crowd at the boarding in this direction.
An airlock blocked our way. — It’s here I leave you, he said while embracing me. Good luck, Mr. μ%#.
He turned the steering wheel of the airlock and I thought he was going to cry. Then he pushed me. A good kick in the back. I fell.
It lasted for centuries. Normal, it’s so far away, I thought. It lasted even more centuries. It was dark, dark red, it was liquid and it was hot. So I stopped falling, my head, shoulders, arms hurt. I was being pulled, pressed, twisted, I felt dry and cold and I heard a white mountain shouting:
— It’s a boy! How handsome!
And please! The mountain threw me on a Soft Belly. Afterwards, I was calm.
I started to think. The white mountain was not completely stupid. It’s true that I was handsome. In any case, on Plug, that’s what they were saying about me. But still! The mountain had said: A boy! Funny people. Could it be that they have never seen any Pluguians on this lost planet? Other than that, as I just checked, their tourist reception is DECIDEDLY prehistoric.
The weeks that followed left me with only a confused memory. Heaps of mountains came to make me faces, babble at incomprehensible sounds and wave their big dirty fingers under my nose, while the Warm Belly That Feeds them was saying:
— You know, he doesn’t see anything yet… He’s too small.
On the first point, the Belly was mistaken: I could see perfectly. Fortunately, by the way, since I had paid to see and I hadn’t come from so far for plums. But what I saw didn’t please me except half. Everyone except me seemed so huge to me! Vice versa, my pettiness seemed to amuse them.
In a word, I was the curious beast. To say that the travel agent had sworn me that they wouldn’t take me for a tourist! Upon returning, I will talk to him: Earth is really not the planet where newcomers can go unnoticed.
***
Another thing: I quickly discovered that the Earthlings knew how to do lots of things, like walking, talking, kissing, catching objects, using them in a thousand exciting and new ways, in short, they manage rather well, given their possibilities. While I, apparently endowed with the same physical abilities, I am unable to do anything other than scream, sleep, drool, swallow and spit.
First adaptation defect: I have leaks. It’s very unpleasant. From time to time, the Bon Ventre Chaud changes my diaper, it’s always a relief.
Finally I skip over the details, but it was a tough time. Not to mention several particularly stubborn mountains that had the audacity to repeat to me: — Oh sooo cute! No worries, dear lil thing! No worries! Life is good, uh?
No problem! The pedants! And my teeth? They can’t know what I went through when I drilled my teeth! And when I got them, it was the Soft Belly that made me jump:
— Hey well, that’s it! He has all his baby teeth!!
Which implied that one day I will have others. I choked on a sob. Ah, when I hold it, this travel agent!
Little by little (that’s the word!) I learned to walk, talk, kiss, grab objects and use them in a thousand exciting and new ways, much to the despair of the Belly Voice, whom I now knew how to call Mom. On this point, the agency had not deceived me: these multiple learnings did not cost me a rattan.
I was growing too fast for my clothes, too slowly for my liking. I still only saw bribes. Came the fateful day or my mother (they sometimes say Mom and sometimes Mother, as they say Earthlings or Humans, because they are rather complicated overall) so the day when mom told me about school.
— You are going to play with lots of little friends…
Horror! I said to myself. Other tourists! They want to park me!
— And then you will learn lots of exciting things…
Here we are! I thought. My mother no longer wants to teach me anything for free, so she sends me to a specialized center where naturally I will be asked to pay!
But no, I was alarmed for nothing. The travel agent is more honest than I had believed. The school was free, too.
***
Kindergarten, as they say here, is a rather funny place. One can pull the hair of the little ones, but not the big ones. One can paint one’s clothes, play crocheted, in the air and never-say-it-rain, with the deaf ear, with the foot-and-mouth-and-cry, with me-not-him, and with all useful hobbies, which I did not take long to learn by heart, and by reason.
On a Wednesday, Mom introduced me to cinema. The Fox and the Hound, was called the movie. A very realistic story showing the meeting of a Pluguian and an Arcturian, in a setting that unfortunately looked a little too much like Earth, and not enough like my dear planet of origin. Yet this film awakened in me a great nostalgia.
Upon leaving, I took it upon myself to tell everything to my mother. Only she could understand. At least, that’s what I believed.
— Where are you from?! she exclaims after my confession.
— From er… a planet named Plug. It’s pretty well known, I’d be surprised if you’ve never heard of it. It’s true that here, we are so far from everything…
— Where did you read some science fiction nonsense? growls Mom all red.
— Don’t scream, Mom! It’s that movie! It’s Rox! He looks like a friend from over there… But if it makes you angry, I won’t talk about it anymore…
— And you will do well! continue Mom with her voice that hurts. Gee what a nonsense! He’s not five years old and he reads stories for adults… And IDIOTIC stories, on top of that!
Vexed, I am. Plug’s stories are not any dumber than those here. Far from it! And then, it was my mother who chose the movie. I had concluded that she suspected something about my origin. Serious disillusionment, once again…
But I better shut my mouth about Plug. It doesn’t please. Later maybe?
***
Time passes. I realize one beautiful morning that I left Plug because of a single unpleasant routine: metrard, boulard, dodard. And what do I discover on Earth? Subway, work, sleep. Irony of fate! The more it changes, the more it’s the same.
As for that agent of misfortune who guaranteed me the change of scenery, I bet he never set foot on Earth. Pfft! Conscientiousness is no longer what it was. When I think that I admired his know-how! The scammer!
Finally, I get to know someone interesting among the school’s tourists. At his birth, a white mountain shouted: “It’s a girl!” And every time I see her, I am dying to add, like my own white mountain: — How beautiful she is!
No kidding, she is almost as pretty as the Arcturians on my dear Plug. Less the fur, obviously… Well, I got used to it. Humans say: “In Rome, we do like the Romans.” I am with the Earthlings and I better do like them. Just to enjoy my stay. After all, I paid the price.
So I follow her everywhere. In the courtyard at the playground. In the street behind her father. At the square on Wednesday. I know her least habits and I will wait for her at every intersection. If I ever miss her, it’s crazy what she misses me.
All things considered, apart from the fur, she has all the qualities of an Arcturian. For example, I can sit near her for hours without talking to her, without her speaking to me, and we understand each other very well. As on Plug.
This is the second person to whom I revealed the heavy secret of my origin. After all, she is not an Earthling, but a tourist like me. On a Wednesday, at the square, we have been sitting for three good quarters of an hour on a bench without moving, without speaking, and breathing only what is strictly necessary. I’m starting:
— By the way, did I tell you that I’m from Plug?
— No kidding? Her eyes sparkle. Do you know that I’ve always dreamed of going there?
After an eloquent silence, I add: And you? Where are you from?
— Oh me, she said sighing. I come from everywhere, I am everywhere. Because of my work…
— You mean school?
— No, no… I’m talking about my job in general…
— Ah? And what is it?
She stares at the tips of her shoes without responding. And it lasts. I try to read her thoughts. But it’s closed.
— What is your job then?
— To you, I can say it well. I am an employee at the Travel Agency. Exotic sector. And I take care of… after-sales service.
A dead leaf, swirling around, almost falls at her feet. The Earth is so nice in autumn.
The little girl resumes: “In the exotic sector, there are always surprises, you understand… So the tourists need someone on site to help them out, if necessary…
I burst out laughing.
— Say, you took a while to manifest yourself!
— It’s true, she acknowledged.
She blushed.
— But now, I will always be close to you to help you.
The prospect of spending many more long years on Earth before seeing my dear Plug again suddenly seemed much more bearable to me. Upon standing up, the little girl brushed her silky curls over my cheek, and the entire earth began to smell as good as the fur of an Arcturian.
Definitely, the travel agent is becoming quite friendly. How could I misspeak about his services?
Since that time, she and I have not left each other by a single foot. Never farther from each other than the thickness of a hair. I’m starting to wonder if she will have a vacation, afterwards, to go to Plug…
And came the evening when she tells me that there is no outing
— It’s the biggest disadvantage on Earth, she explains to me seriously.
That’s why the trip was so cheap. I was sold a one-way ticket.
Without a word, I take his hand, and we went back to see The Fox and the Hound.
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