Once Charlie asked Cliff what his real name was. There was a delay from the photo person until it came out. Maybe the translator had had trouble converting it into English sounds. From what Charlie could hear, it sounded like Quidf-al-swzforb-azxef, which Charlie quickly shortened to just Cliff. The photo person did not seem offended by that, but then nothing Charlie had said to him so far had offended him. On the odd occasion, Charlie had even tried, but all with no luck.
From that brief conversation, Charlie had declined to ask him where he was from. There were some things that a person should not know, thought Charlie, and this was one of them. If it helped Irene, then it would all be worth the effort.

Charlie had still not answered Cliff, but Cliff did not seem bothered by this and continued to wait. If he was human he would have asked again, thought Charlie. But maybe I am just looking for things to be wrong.
But that was the only real answer for a photo that talks. It had to be from somewhere with advanced technology, which meant it was not from Earth. That seemed like a logical train of thought to him. The illogical question which continued to nag him was simple – why him?
The never-ending stare finally broke Charlie. He answered, I got the globe. What you said, it should be the right size. The papyrus is also here. So all I need to know is what to do, where it all goes and how to feed the papyrus into it all.
That is very good work, Charles. Can you show me the globe?
Charlie held it up to the photo, and he could see Cliff inspecting it almost as though he had hold of it himself. Strange clicks and clacks came from him, but soon enough nodding ensued.
Yes, very good. You have done well, my friend, mumbled Cliff.

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