“My kind don’t keep track of age like yours does. We live far too long for that.” “Oh. So… you’re saying you’re old.” He chuckles. “Very.” “Are we talking centuries or millennia here? In Earth years.” I can’t help myself, the questions keep coming, like I’m a human toddler meeting a real-life fireman for the first time. He pauses, and I nearly walk into him, stopping short, my nose inches from one of his shoulder blades. Then, in a low tone, he says, “Millennia.”
