"But what point are you proving?" He hadn't been trying to offend, he'd simply been curious. "I mean, if you could get it to give up its secrets...what would you do with them? I'm sorry. I'm out of practice with smalltalk, I didn't mean..." He looked away, back to the window and the depths of space outside it, visibly taking a breath.

He smiled a little at the enthusiastic handshake. "It's plain. But I like it. I guess it'd be more exciting to be Barnabas or Alexander or Winston, but Tom isn't a name I have to live up to. It's a name I can grow for myself. No one expects anything from you, I guess it makes things more surprising when you do something. I guess some people go looking for adventure, they want to be great. I don't. I think I'd be perfectly happy staying at home with my parents and my brother and going to med school once I graduate high school."

That was a strange dream to have, a strange thing to wish for. But he had survived so much, going home seemed like the greatest reward he could possibly receive. "You're an alien?" He blinked, eyes flicking unconsciously to his ear before going back to his face. He didn't look like an alien, but...Yeerks didn't look like aliens in the right host. There was nothing saying that somewhere out there, there wasn't another race that looked like humans. "Yeah, it's incredible. I never get tired of it, and the fact that the ship is alive...it's just, it's like a dream, sometimes. Only I don't think my brain is this creative."