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You know something I definitely don't miss about working on Earth? Budget constraints.
I actually don't know if this is a problem for normal Eridian teachers (I mean, it has to be, right?) but it's not one for me.
Squishy alien privilege (SAP) means that I get basically any classroom supplies I want dropped off by my own personal enrichment team the moment I so much mention that a new audio display system or Eridian friendly white board might be fun to have. Completely free of charge.
Which is a good thing, because I'm not actually sure if I have any money, or how much I have.
I don't really understand Eridian currency at all, to be honest. It's a system designed with the assumption that anyone using it would have a photographic memory, sensitivity to the slightest changes in the texture of the little tokens they use and the ability to do lightning fast mental arithmetic. It's not the most human friendly, is the point, especially for humans who already have existing memory problems.
Rocky had a go at teaching me on the journey to Erid, but we both ended up getting frustrated. It's not like I'm able to go shopping on my own anyway, or like I have to pay rent (another thing I don't miss from Earth) so it's pretty low on my list of 'things to learn about on this cool alien planet'.
But yeah, point is, now I have the kind of resources that even private school teachers back on Earth could only dream of. Which is why, as I listen to my students coming into class, I can hear a lot of excited tapping and whistling as they try to echolocate as much of the room as possible.
My classroom has been transformed.
Gone are the ascending shelves for the kids to sit on that I've been calling 'the bleachers'. Instead there's a patch of floor left bare right in front of my xenonite barrier, and then the rest of the room is full of sculptures. Rocky's work.
To be clear! I did not go up to my bestest friend in the whole wide Erid, who also happens to be an incredibly busy person, and ask him to make me a bunch of custom xenonite sculptures in varying sizes and materials. I am not yet that spoiled.
My exact words were, as we wrapped up one of our regular movie nights: “hey Rock, do you have any old junk lying around your workshop that I could borrow? Something safe for the kids to interact with, I want to use it for a class.”
Rocky was the one who, entirely without my input, interpreted this to mean: “build me an incredibly detailed xenonite sculpture park”.
Credit where it's due, it's impressive.
There are several Eridians in various poses. A few life-sized statues of me, embarrassingly enough, including one in my EVA suit. A couple of creatures that I don't recognise but that, judging from the pentagonal symmetry and stony-looking texture, I'm guessing are examples of cool Erid wildlife that I'm definitely going to bug Rocky for information about after.
The rest are Earth animals that I've shown him on the laptop: a fox, a dog, a velociraptor (Rocky was disappointed when I explained that Jurassic Park was not based on real human technology), an oversized tarantula.
Also a lot of ants in various sizes, because they're by far Rocky's favourite Earth creature. Possibly even including humans… Their Eridian name translates directly to something like “cute Earth engineer animal” because Rocky is even worse at naming things than I am.
Despite his usual fanaticism about making sure that I get a good night's sleep, he actually woke me an hour early to give me the grand tour. Complete with detailed explanations as to how he went about designing, building and arranging everything. It's possible that me and Adrian need to get together and talk about getting him more practical projects to work on outside of his work as Erid's Resident Human Expert.
Maybe I'm not the only Saviour in need of an enrichment team.
I let the kids wander for a bit. There's no point trying to get their attention with all this brand new stimuli to distract them, and honestly the chance to look close up at sculptures of Earth wildlife is educational in its own right. Even if it's not the official lesson objective.
A few of them come bounding up to the barrier anyway, hopping and skittering around in their excitement.
“Teacher Grace, Teacher Grace!” Robby chirps. “Classroom is different. Is like this forever now question?”
“Not forever,” I say, playing out the notes on my keyboard as I speak. “The bleachers will be back next week.”
There's a chorus of annoyed hums and several carapaces lower. Of course they all heard me. Naomi, who has managed to climb up the sculpture of me in my EVA suit and is currently wobbling atop my head, calls out: “we could have models and bleachers both. Or could sit on models instead of bleachers.”
“Be careful if you're climbing,” I play, although experience has taught me that Eridian middle schoolers are significantly sturdier than their Earth counterparts. “Don't fall.” I pause. “Maybe we can keep one or two sculptures. I'll think about it.”
I quite like the fox, and some of Rocky's ants. “If you all do good work today. Speaking of which…” I clap my hands. “Everybody come sit by the barrier. Yeah, yeah, I know, but I promise you're gonna get to explore the sculptures more later.”
There are a few complaints, but they all come over pretty quickly. Places in Teacher Grace's science class are, as I understand it, a pretty hot commodity. We're essentially a very exclusive gifted and talented program at the moment, and the kids' behaviour reflects their knowledge of how lucky they are to be here.
Honestly I'd be happy to teach more classes if it meant more kids could have the opportunity to learn, but Dr McCoy (director of my medical team and regular dictator) put all five of his feet down on that one. Apparently I have a habit of neglecting self-care and overworking myself until I crash.
My protests that this wasn't true would have been more convincing if I hadn't fallen asleep at my desk the previous night, halfway through lesson planning.
(Adrian had found me and snitched to Rocky, who in turn snitched to McCoy. I am surrounded by traitors on all sides.)
The kids' chitters and whistles quieten down as they come to sit in front of the barrier. I know better than to think that their conversations have stopped, but they've at least slipped out of my range of hearing. Eridians are incredible multi-taskers and suck, comparatively, at trying to focus on one thing, so I've learned to relax my rules about classroom chatter.
“Hi everyone!” I play. “Today we have a very special guest, the one and only Saviour Rocky!”
I clap. The kids, who are used to me by now, bang their claws together or tap them against the ground or their own carapaces in imitation of human applause. I think Rocky would be glaring at me if he had a face, as it is I just get an annoyed hum.
“Is Engineer Rocky,” he corrects. “Unless we're saying is Saviour Gra-“
“Engineer Rocky it is!” I say quickly. It took forever to train the pebbles out of calling me 'Saviour'. Neither me nor Rocky are particularly comfortable with that title.
“Apology, Engineer Rocky has built us some lovely sculptures to put in our classroom today, because today we are going to be playing a very popular human children's game.”
Curious chittering. From Rocky as well as from the kids, I didn't tell him exactly what the sculptures were for.
“See, unlike Eridians, humans weren't always the apex predators of our planet. We evolved alongside much larger meat eating animals that would like nothing better than to have a nice tasty human for lunch.”
I pause for the inevitable laughter— the teacher is talking about eating! The middle school sense of humour transcends species and solar systems.
“Anyway, before we learned how to make weapons and settlements to defend ourselves from these predators, ancient humans had to be very good at hiding from them. Hide and seek is a game where children have to practice concealing themselves from another creature's light sense.”
A pause. Sounds of confusion. Tamara raises a claw. “How can we play this game, question? We don't have a light sense.”
“Nope!” I smile and stroke my chin like I'm thinking hard. “You're right, to play properly I guess we'd need a creature with light sense for you guys to hide from…”
They're smart kids. They get it pretty quickly.
“Teacher Grace!” “We hide from Teacher Grace!” “Teacher Grace is predator!”
(I stifle a wince at that last one. Phrasing, man!)
“Alright, alright!” I put my hand in the air. “My hand is up!” The kids quieten down.
“Yep, you got it guys! Today you're gonna be practicing hiding in amongst these beautiful sculptures— everybody say ‘thank you engineer Rocky!’—“
The kids enthusiastically obey. Rocky whistles annoyance at me. I smirk at him and continue.
“– and I am gonna be trying to see how many of you I can spot from behind the barrier. But, before we begin,” predictably a couple of kids have already gotten up off the floor, raring to go. They sit down again hastily. “Who can tell me what you're gonna have to remember in order to avoid me seeing you? Hands up. Yeah, Michaela?”
“Teacher Grace cannot light sense through objects,” Michaela chirps proudly. “So need to make sure object is between us and Teacher Grace.”
“Good!”
I mean it. It's a concept that most human kids can understand before they hit kindergarten, but for a species who can 'see' basically every detail in a room the moment they walk into it, it's a lot less intuitive. Their language doesn't even have words for “behind” or “in front of” when referring to stationary objects. The closest is “chaser” and “chased”.
“What else? Jeff?”
“If we make it dark dark dark, Teacher Grace will not light sense anything and we will win!” Jeff is so excited about this supposed hide and seek cheat code that he's hopping up and down and squeaking. I suppress a smile. It's adorable.
“No messing with light sources in room,” Rocky says from behind me. “Is dangerous and also cheating.” There's a chorus of groans.
“Good idea though, Jeff,” I say consolingly. “Well remembered about the darkness thing. Okay… Angel?”
“Stay still still still. Teacher Grace eyes work better when sensing movement. Like Earth dead bird ancestor monster!”
Yeah, the kids have also seen Jurassic Park. The first and last time I let Rocky cover a class while I was sick.
“That's right Angel! And remember, I have ears too.” I give one of them a flick with my finger. “If you're moving around or talking, I'll probably be able to hear you.”
“Grace cannot hear anything.”
“Rocky, I know I explained to you about hands up.”
“… apology.” The kids giggle again.
“Anyone else?” I scan the group. “Violet?”
“Be close to Teacher Grace, question? Because Teacher Grace not see things close up.”
I pause. It takes me a moment to realise what she's talking about.
Violet is one of the quieter kids in class. Her carapace is covered in shiny xenonite patches. Apparently they're meant to correct a carapace malformation that affects her hearing, and I think she's shy about them. She was very attentive when I told the class about why I wear glasses and what it means to be farsighted.
Unfortunately, before I can explain the difference between not being able to see things up close in detail and not being able to see things up close at all, Jeff decides to contribute his two cents.
“Is obvious Teacher Grace can see us when we are close. Otherwise he would not see us now.”
Michaela, who seems to have adopted Violet into her little gang recently, trills indignantly. “Rude rude rude. Is not obvious, Teacher Grace wears eye shields to see close.”
“If Teacher Grace wears eye shields then does not matter if cannot see close,” Tamara points out. More out of a desire to be right than anything else, I think. She and Jeff aren't particularly friendly. “Will wear eye-shields during game.”
“Could take them off,” Teddy, Michaela's sibling, butts in. I begin to raise my hand. “Is better idea than turning lights off to cheat. That was stupid idea.”
“Guys, my hand is—“
Jeff clenches his claw into a fist. “Is not stupid idea! Violet's idea is stupid! Violet is stupid stupid stupid for saying!”
And there it is.
I lower my hand, stick two fingers into my mouth and give a shrill, sharp whistle.
It's a trick they taught me in Eridian teacher training: basically the equivalent of a teacher glare for a species that doesn't have anything to glare with. The kids all instinctively freeze in place and sit down.
Hilariously, so does Rocky. I make a mental note to tease him about that later.
In the mean time…
“Thank you. Glad we've finally remembered how to behave.” I pause, putting my hands on my hips.
“I know that things are a bit different today, and that you're all excited, but that is no excuse to start calling out and especially no excuse,” I frown at Teddy and Jeff, “for name calling.” There's some shuffling of claws and a few apologetic clicks.
“Teddy,” I say, “we do not call other people's ideas stupid in this class. If you disagree with another person, you can respectfully and politely tell them so. After you raise your hand.”
Teddy clicks miserably. “Apology, Teacher Grace.”
“I'm not the one you should be apologising to.”
“Apology Jeff.”
“And Jeff,” I continue, before he can start looking to pleased with himself. “We never, ever call another person stupid for sharing their ideas. We're all scientists here, and we respect our fellow scientists for being brave enough to share their theories. If I hear you do that again, I'm gonna have to talk to your parents.” Jeff looks suitably guilty. One of his parents works on the biodome team, so he knows I'm not bluffing. “Apologise to Violet.”
“Apology Violet.”
“Alright.” I clap my hands together, deciding to move on before any more conflicts can arise. Even with a normally well-behaved class like this, a bunch of new distractions and changes to the normal routine is bound to cause trouble. These kids need to work off some of that excess energy, stat.
“Rules of hide and seek, Teacher Grace special edition. Rule one!” I hold up a finger on one hand whilst playing my speech organ with the other. “You have to hide inside the room. No going outside. Engineer Rocky is observing, and he's gonna let me know if anyone tries to go through that door.”
A few of the kids jazz hands to show their understanding.
“Rule two! No fighting over hiding spots. If your classmate gets there first, they have first dibs.”
I'd had to explain 'dibs' to Rocky on our journey to Erid, during one of our arguments about what to watch on movie night. He'd insisted that it was a “dumb Earth thing” and that Eridian methods of choosing things were far more logical.
He later guiltily confessed that “dibs” actually translates directly, and he just really hadn't wanted to watch Jaws that night. He still hasn't lived that one down.
“If more than one of you gets there first, then you either sort it out politely and respectfully, or you both go find a new spot. Rule Three! Don't ruin the game for anyone else. If you get found, don't tell me where anyone else is hiding. Even if you think you're helping me! The fun for me is in trying to find you guys.”
More jazz hands. Some excited squeaks and chitters.
“So, in a moment I'm gonna cover my eyes and count down from one hundred. During that time, you guys are gonna spread out and try and find hiding places. When I open my eyes, I'm going to call out the names of the people I can see. If I call your name, you leave your hiding place and come stand to the side. When I can't see anybody else, I'm going to make this noise-”
I take my hand off the keyboard. There's no Eridian translation for this. “Olly olly oxen free!”
Back to the keyboard. “And that means whoever is still hiding has won and can come out. Everyone understand?”
Jazz hands.
“Okay!” I cover my eyes with a hand and lean against the barrier. “One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven-“
Fortunately we covered human numbers pretty early on. There's a lot of frantic scuffling and skittering coming from behind the barrier.
“Seventy-eight, seventy-seven, seventy-six-“
I hear what sounds suspiciously like tiny Eridian threat growls, and the sound of somebody getting pushed. Rocky gives a low warning note and the noises stop, so I decide to let it be for now.
“Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven, forty-six-“
More skittering. Some chitters of laughter. It goes against basically every teacher instinct I have to leave myself blind in a room full of kids for so long. Probably a good thing Rocky volunteered to come by.
“Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen-“
It's quieter now. I think most of them are hidden and just waiting out the clock.
“Five, four, three, two… one.“ I reach again for my keyboard. “Ready or not, here I come!”
A few kids get found out immediately, which is to be expected. Either they've confused 'behind' with 'under', or they've just hidden behind something that isn't wide enough to full conceal them.
“Don't worry guys,” I say as they disappointedly make their way to the side. “You'll get your chance again in round two.”
Next I scan the room, looking for the slightest hint of a limb or carapace poking out from behind the xenonite. I narrate what I'm doing as I search. Some more kids join their peers on the sidelines.
Angel actually hid really well, ducking behind one of the many segments of some kind of Eridian snake/centipede looking creature that I imaginatively nickname a 'rocksnake'. Unfortunately, they burst out laughing when Robby, who had been standing on two legs to try and better fit behind a fox's tail, finally lost his balance and went toppling over. In fact Angel is still giggling as the two of them troop over to the side.
I scan the room again. “Okay, I don't know who it is, but there’s definitely somebody behind the… octopus but with ten tentacles and its mouth is on the top of its carapace.”
“🎵🎶🎵🎶” Rocky helpfully chimes.
“Yeah I can't pronounce that bud. There's somebody hiding behind the rocktapus.”
“How question?” Michaela pokes her carapace out from behind the mass of tentacles. “Was completely behind the xenonite. How can Teacher Grace sense, question?”
“Shadow,” I say. The Eridian word is a combination of the words for 'light', 'block' and 'texture'. “The rocktapus's shadow was a different shape to how it should be, which meant that something had to be behind it casting a different shadow. And that something was Eridian shaped.”
Michaela jumps up and down in excitement. “Amaze amaze amaze. Teacher Grace is good good good at light sensing!”
I go back to scanning the room while she scampers off to sit with her friends. “And I think that's everyone I can see,” I say at last. “So let's have a round of applause for our winners! Olly Olly Oxen Free!”
The remaining few kids emerge triumphantly to the sound of claws being banged together.
Naomi scampers down from halfway up one of the me-statues, where she'd apparently been perched on top of the EVA suit's life-support backpack. Of course she had to have another go at climbing.
Tamara rises up from behind a section of the raptor's tail that I thought would have been too low to the ground to properly conceal her. Her legs are paler than before. Dusty.
“Did you bury yourself in the ground?” I ask.
“Yes yes yes!” she chirps. “Dug with legs. Knew Teacher Grace would not think Tamara could be behind xenonite if xenonite smaller than Tamara!”
I raise my eyebrows. “That's really clever, Tamara.”
She trills happily.
I look over at the class and do a quick mental headcount. “Hmm, we're missing one… Violet!” I look back at the sculpture park. Did I somehow miss her coming out from her hiding place? “Violet? Olly olly oxen free means come out, remember? You gotta show me where you are.”
No movement. Huh. She isn't usually one to disobey direct instructions. “Violet? I still can't see you. Can you wave your arms for me?”
Several of the kids start to laugh. More suspiciously, so does Rocky. I turn on him accusingly. “You know where she's hiding!”
He nods, the human way. “Yes yes yes. Is good good good hiding place!”
“Rock, you gotta tell me where she is.”
“Grace look.” He points a claw in the direction of the sculpture garden.
“I did look! I can't see her! She's behind one of those sculptures,” I'm getting mildly frustrated now.
“Not behind sculptures,” Rocky says, with maddening patience. “Grace look again.”
“Wait, what do you mean she's not behind the sculptures? Did she leave the-“
He grabs my arm and pulls. “Grace look from far away. Too close.”
Obediently, not that I have much choice when being dragged along by a megaton of rock spider, I take a few steps back.
“Rocky I still can't— oh.”
There she is. Waving a claw, light glinting off the xenonite patches on her carapace… sitting right in front of the barrier. Literally right by where my feet were when I was looking over the sculptures. Visible to everyone in the room, except for me. Because I was too close.
I move forward and crouch down beside her. “Okay, this deserves a fist bump.”
Violet trills excitedly and taps her claw against the xenonite. “Violet said idea,” she says. “People said idea is stupid. So Violet tests idea. Violet proves idea.”
“You absolutely did!” Gosh, I'm grinning so wide my cheeks are hurting. This is my favourite part of being a teacher, hands down. “You did proper science Violet! Proving a hypothesis!”
There are some appreciative whistles and chirps from the audiences, and a couple of hushed “amaze amaze amaze”s.
Violet happily skitters off to sit next to Michaela. I stand up.
“Alright guys, now you've got the basic idea, who's ready for round two?”
Every kid in the class cheers. Gosh darn it, I love my job.