"Greetings to all: Catholic, Protestant, humans of other faiths, humans of no faith, and alien visitors.

"I am Father Vernon Mangiano, a Catholic priest. With me is Polla Mastook, a Goldaskian technician aboard the starship New Hope. Ms. Mastook, thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

"Sure, no problem," came the translated reply. "While the ship's in orbit, I don't have as much to do."

"Have you worked on starships for very long?"

"Five years. Didn't expect this promotion, but it's been interesting."

"Promotion?"

"Until about half a year ago, I was a Ship Technician Level Two. Now I'm doing the duties of a Level Four. Don't know if I'm ever going to get paid by the Ooafans, but I've got full meals and a comfortable compartment, and that's better than most of my former shipmates have back on Ooafa. No idea when we'll get back to the greater galaxy, either, so I wouldn't have any place to spend credits anyway."

"Where did you grow up?"

"I was born on Calabax, in Torongo Province near the equator, but we moved to Vedelek Province in the south when I was eight years old."

"Is that eight Goldaskian years?"

"Eight Calabax years. Each year is a bit over 387 days. All of our worlds are fairly close in orbital period, including yours, so I was eight years old by pretty much any measure."

"I see. What was your childhood like?"

Polla half-shrugged. "Nothing special. What in particular did you want to know?"

With the Father's encouragement, she explained that education for children usually consisted of projects with a competitive aspect and a free aspect. Essentially, you were awarded points and privileges for learning something, but what you learned was in large part up to you. There were many kinds of tournament available, but many kids didn't bother to compete, simply racking up enough points following their hobbies to not get in trouble.

Goldaskians generally raised up to four children, and there were credits awarded for having more or fewer, depending on the planet and the current population trends desired by the government. Apparently, the population was maintained within a certain range through social engineering. Their society was advanced enough that no one had to work just to survive, but advancing required effort.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Father Mangiano spent a good while teasing out the story of Polla's life, deliberately "humanizing" her for the audience, though that was clearly the wrong word. The young woman was easy to talk to, and the ship's computer handled translations almost flawlessly. Eventually, he felt that he had enough material, and moved on to the demonstration.

"So, Polla, as you know, I am what we humans call a Catholic priest."

"Mm. Yes?"

"So for the sake of many humans watching this with great curiosity, I wonder if you would indulge me as I perform a few of my holy rituals."

Another half-shrug. "Yes. What do I need to do?"

"Very little. Just be patient with me please, it will only be a few minutes, if that."

"Sounds simple. Go ahead."

"Thank you." The priest reached into a box and pulled out a small stoppered flask. "This, for those of you watching, is holy water, blessed by Pope Benedict XVII himself." He removed the stopper, poured a few drops onto his fingers, and then chanted to himself for a few moments. Then, he made the sign of the cross, finishing a short Latin prayer.

"Please hold out your hand, Polla." Bemused, the Goldaskian did so, and Father Mangiano poured a little of the holy water onto her right palm. She lifted it slightly and inspected it, curious. The Father looked meaningfully into the camera, and back to the alien.

"Now, if you would be so kind, please wet your fingertips of your right hand. Thank you. Now, please touch your forehead with the wet fingers. Yes." He led her through making the sign of the Cross.

Next, he pulled out his Bible and showed it to the camera. "This is my personal copy of the Good Book, the Holy Bible. I have used it at Mass, in court proceedings, at weddings, and swearing in a mayor or two. I read from it regularly and take good care of it."

He held it out. "Ms. Mastook, would you please rest your left hand on the cover of this Book?"

"All right...like this?"

"Yes, exactly." Mangiano made sure the camera had a clear view.

After several moments passed, Polla asked quietly, "Am I doing it correctly?"

"Yes. That was fine. Now, if you will allow me to stand over you and speak some words, I will do that, and then I will touch your forehead lightly with my finger wet with holy water. Is that all right? This is the last part."

Polla half-shrugged. "Do as you like."

"Thank you. I appreciate it greatly."

Father Mangiano pulled out a rolled-up paper. He unrolled it, and proceeded to perform the Rite of Exorcism, in Latin. Polla waited through it patiently. He finished, stepped back, and asked, "how do you feel?"

"Um, fine. Was something supposed to happen?"

"Some people would think so; I did this as a test, for their sakes. Hopefully, this will lay a lot of fears to rest among the faithful."

Polla tilted her head. "Were you checking whether I was an oni?"

Father Mangiano blinked. "A what?"

"A mythical creature from Japan Province. Did I say it right? I watched a show Nick called an 'anime' that had characters that looked a lot like a Goldaskian."

The Father blinked twice. "Um, close. You resemble people described in our fiction as demons. But a real demon would have had a strong reaction to holy water, and would have been harmed by the ritual I performed."

"I...see. Well, I take it I passed the test?"

"Yes."

"And this is a good thing?"

"Yes."

Polla glanced at the camera, and then back at the priest. "You have a really tough job, don't you?"

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