“Light blue touch paper! Run like Hell!”
It looked like a cylinder with a cone at one end and a stick at the other. The purpose of the string at the stick end was just as mysterious as the cone. It was painted in toxic stripes, therefore it was dangerous.
“What is this?” said T’reka.
“Humans use it to celebrate,” said Susan. “They’re rockets designed to explode. For art.”
Nobody on Amity could side-eye like a Numidid. T’reka gave her a classic one. “Making rockets explode is an accident, not an art.”
“We use them to paint the night sky in coloured light,” Susan re-explained. She was well used to this after decades of working with T’reka. “They explode on purpose to do this.”
“Loud noises and sudden lights. Of course this is a human entertainment. I think I know the answer, but I must ask. What are you celebrating with these?”
“Uh… the fact that we can make fireworks now…?”
“Called it,” T’reka muttered in her own tongue. “Have you set out a warning for the Numidid population?”
“Sort of? We called it an invitation, but we did say there’d be loud noises and flashing lights. And screaming humans.”
“Many will observe from a safe distance.” She peered at the smudged label on the tube. “What are these words?”
“Light blue touch paper. Run like hell.”
“How very human,” T’reka snarked.
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