[ The Resolute is not something you name your harmless observational vessel, but then—he pulls his thoughts back before they go off that cliff. He crosses his arms—almost a self-hug—as she starts moving again, watching her pull on a bathrobe and telling himself it'd be stupid to count the ways she's not a fucking alien. One: she is breathing. Two: she is wearing a bathrobe.

He snaps out of it in time for her question. ] Jupiter's Claim is the... [ —bestest darn California Gold Rush theme park in the Santa Clarita/Lancaster area, perfect for family outings. ] It's just a little park, out in the desert. Wild West, we have a petting zoo, horse shows. Great for kids. [ He finishes unconvincingly, his tone bright and false as a gold tooth. ] You were saying about the sky?