With thanks to Tim McCleerey and Anita Madson for their continued support and helpful inputs.

In late November, the American City-States celebrate a holiday called "Thanksgiving." (New Toronto celebrates it a month earlier.) Everyone gripes that "It's not REALLY Thanksgiving!" because none of the Original Settlers brought turkeys or cranberries or pumpkins on their transports. Apparently these were foods traditionally eaten on Thanksgiving. This year, because people were just coming out of lockdown at that time, Thanksgiving was kinda ignored.

In December, there are a variety of holidays. Christians decorate (artificial) pine trees, make cookies, sing carols, and give gifts. Jews light candles, spin dreidels, eat latkes and jelly donuts, and give gifts. Everyone else gives gifts, too. If you don't, you run the risk of your children mass converting to a religion that DOES. This year gift giving seems to be reduced. Food seems moderated. Revelries are muted. Some trekkers go to New Chicago to see the lights, but it is not as popular as usual.

I've always felt Lunar holidays were pretty one-dimensional: celebration, fun, food, presents. Uralian holidays, especially Lian ones, tend to be pretty emotionally complex: joy mixed with sorrow, gratitude mixed with resentment, courage mixed with fear. Of course, this means our holidays are not as much FUN.

But probably I am wrong. Lunar holidays are not really one-dimensional; they may be Lunars' way of (as they put it) "whistling in the dark."

***

I enjoy calendars. Most species seem to have ways of splitting time into manageable and recurring units. Humans on Luna have seven-day "weeks" (although the "days" involved are the 24-hour "days" of Earth, their original homeworld, rather than the 29.5-day "days" of Luna.) On my homeworld, Uralia (now lost somewhere inside our expanding star), there were 12-day divisions of time called "Rdwr" (our days were, naturally, not the 24-hour days of Earth either.) These Rdwr were maintained, just like they are on Luna, on our refugee planetoids. But Lians, now the inheritors of our star system, also practice six-day "halfweeks" - "Rdwrt". We work for five days then have a day off. The Lunars do something very similar: they work five days and then have two days off. It's interesting that we both think five days of work is enough before you need a rest.

Of course, the Urans work the full 11 days before having a day off. They believe Lians are lazy.

My duties for the Lian Embassy on Luna are not strenuous. I have to help any Uralian nationals who come to Luna and need help or companionship. I have to attend (a lot) of (useless, boring) meetings of the Luna City Government, the Lunar Government, and (occasionally) the Galactic Government. I have to file two "activities" reports weekly - one every Friday for the Lunar Government and one every day-before-the-twelfth-day-off for the Lian Government. Of course, these periods align periodically, and I have to file both reports on the same day. That alignment happened yesterday, so, for both duties, TODAY IS A HOLIDAY!

I enjoy these aligned holidays a lot! I feel I don't have to be on duty for anybody!

Clmntr sits up from her office com. She is done with her daily paperwork for Botslean Corporation. "Nuggets?" she asks.

I am already on my way to our vehicle.

We had to live for several (Lunar) weeks during lockdown nugget-less. We continue to celebrate the reopening of the FastFood and support their business!

***

Dr. Madison and her three lively children are also at the fast food. They are eating burgers. I am not a fan - too much non-meat content. And I am suspicious of the "meat" anyway.

We get our nuggets then join them at our favorite table. "I've never seen a cow on Luna..." I observe.

Dr. Madison smiles. "No - there are none. Cows were too large to be included in the refugee transports from Earth. This beef is artificial, made from plants."

Hmm. Another reason why I don't like burgers. "How about the nuggets?" I enquire suspiciously.

She laughs. "No worries. Chickens were small enough to be included on the transports. As were fish, shrimp, ducks, even sheep and goats. If those are on the menu, they are really meat."

I am relieved. I would hate to think I loved eating "plant-derived-chicken-flavored" nuggets.

Clmntr is holding a UVC wand over her nuggets. After the NP1 scare, she remains careful about microbes.

Of course... there COULD be microbes in the Universe that actually thrive in UVC light?

I'm not going to mention it to her...

Lt. Forbes drives up in his skimmer. Dr. Madison's looks up cheerfully, but then her greeting smile fades. "Kids, go play on the swings," she suggests. The two older children scamper away. "Problems?" she asks, as her husband joins us. She has obviously detected something concerning in his expression or his manner.

The lieutenant kisses his wife and baby, sighs and hesitates for a moment. "Attempted suicide," he finally informs us.

We all look sad and thoughtful.

"A man whose wife died. They had been together 53 years..."

"It's hard for so many people after NP1," Dr. Madison observes.

"I think it's getting worse," Lt. Forbes says.

"We lost over one in ten," Dr. Madison adds. "And in almost every City-State. Even New Nuuk lost their Ambassador."

"Why did the infection have to occur at a meeting of all the big-wigs?" Lt. Forbes demands of the Universe. "The Ambassadors attending the New Princeton Governor's Palace event brought the infection back to every City-State."

"Except the New DC Ambassador, who was having a baby that day," Dr. Madison reminds him. "Being so far from the other Cities, they escaped it completely."

"Uralians believe the Powers Ruling the Universe have a sick sense of humor..." Clmntr observes.

"They do, indeed," agrees Dr. Madison. Then: "But what can we do to help people?"

The lieutenant is rising to go order his food. "The Lunar Government has formed a Commission," he begins.

"Oh, THAT will help A LOT!" snarls Dr. Madison.

"More evidence of the sick sense of humor ruling the Universe?" queries Clmntr.

"As if more evidence were needed," asserts Dr. Madison.

"It's where they have to start," says the Lieutenant.

"And that in itself is more evidence of the Universe hating us..." insists Dr. Madison.

Everyone nods sadly.

You can't just pass a resolution declaring that everyone will now get over it and be happy.

The Lieutenant's kids are attacking him for hugs. At least they can still be happy in spite of recent events.

***

Sunday. Theoretically I am back on duty for Lia. But for Luna it is still a holiday.

Clmntr is working on her Botslean books.

Lnbršr is finally getting his transport repaired after the damage inflicted during the lockdown panic. He has been trying to get it taken care of for weeks, but repair technicians have been so busy fixing things that were broken or misused during lockdown that his transport, which he hasn't used since he came to Luna and hasn't really needed, has been low on their list of priorities.

Having no Uralian visitors on Luna to shepherd around or stupid meetings to attend, I am lounging in our new basement rec room.

We grew quite fond of playing with our Aides' ping-pong and pool tables during lockdown. With our large hands and even larger claws, we couldn't use the paddles or sticks usually used to play the games, so we just batted the balls around with our hands. We had a lot of fun doing that.

After lockdown, when our Aides were able to return to the Embassy, Juan noticed our problem (probably because of claw damage on the equipment.) He seems to have quite an engineering mind because he has provided re-engineered paddles and sticks (he says they are called "cues" - but that sounds silly to me...) for us with thick, spongy pads on the handles. He tells us he made them using pool noodles. This makes sense to me, and I enquire if he also used "ping-pong noodles" but he clarifies that the "pool" in "pool noodles" refers to the swimming pool, not the pool table.

The Lunar language is so confusing. They have multiple different ways to say "eat" ("dine" "chow down" "sup" "consume" "devour" "ingest") but can't come up with a different word to distinguish pool table vs swimming pool?

By the way, I have never gone to the City swimming pool... Uralians love a good bathe, but I suspect the Lunars would be uncomfortable with me joining them in their pool. I may be underestimating their cultural sensitivity... but probably not...

Who wants to go swimming with raptors?

Anyway, the new ping-pong and pool devices are great.

Clmntr and Lnbršr are getting quite good at ping-pong. I mostly play pool with Kitty. Although Juan tells me the way we are playing (I hit the ball, Kitty chases it until it bumps on the rim edging the table - if she catches it first, she wins) is not really "pool" but rather is more like "pocketless billiards." He showed me how to re-engineer the table blocking the holes for playing billiards. But Kitty rather enjoys it when one of the balls falls down one of the holes. She reaches down and tries to fish it back out. We both enjoy this aspect of our game. So, I guess we are not playing pool or billiards, but maybe something like "Kitty and Ptsgbw bat the balls around."

Maybe a new Lunar Olympics sport?

Anyway, it's a good way to spend a Sunday. Kitty, tired, is now sleeping in the middle of the table amidst the balls. I take a nap on one of the lounge perches we've added to our new "rec room."

***

It's now Monday. My-day-on-Luna 2470. Back to work full-time.

Because of the heavy demand on my Ambassadorial services, my work level is identical to that of a holiday, except that I am sitting on my perch at my desk at my com because I am AT WORK.

Yaeyeia calls. This IS work: she is the Ambassador from Oeyiah. This counts as an Ambassadorial communication. I will include it in my report to the Lian Government.

"Park?" she asks.

"I can't come until 3:00," I tell her. "I have to take Kitty to the vet."

"Is she OK?"

"Just her annual physical."

"Good! See you at 3:00."

This will count in my report to the Lian Government as a meeting with the Oeyian Ambassador. Or maybe as a meeting with the Oeyian Ambassadorial staff, because her Aide will also be there.

I wonder if Ambassadors to other planets and planetoids have such exciting and strenuous schedules...

***

I have Kitty's carrier strategically placed and opened for easy access but hidden in the bathroom.

Kitty doesn't like the carrier: it has never taken her anyplace she enjoyed going to.

I have to sneak up behind her, gently scoop her up (she doesn't actually like to be held), quickly place her in the carrier, and immediately close the door and snap its locks while she squirms and complains bitterly.

I feel like the meanest Kitty-mommy ever. "It's the law on Luna," I tell her. "Pets must have an annual physical and register with the Government."

She is not impressed.

In the vehicle, I am singing to her: "Oh, sweet and lovely Kitty be good!" She is wailing in the back seat. I tell myself she is singing along. "I'm in love with you, Kitty!" "They say, Kitty you're like a dream..."

Kitty thinks it is more like a nightmare...

The cats-only veterinary clinic is a detached part of the hospital complex. There is a separate-but-equal facility for dogs, and another for lizards, birds, guinea pigs, gerbils, hamsters, rabbits, snakes - whatever small pets the Original Settlers brought with them on the refugee transports. Dr. Madison once told me an interesting historical tidbit: the original cats and dogs from Earth had mostly been neutered/spayed to prevent reproduction on the over-populated Earth (just like humans were encouraged to have a maximum of 3 children.) The first generation of Lunar dogs and cats had to be produced clonally (like Yaeyeia!) These clones were, of course, not born neutered/spayed and so could reproduce. On Luna, dogs and cats are encouraged to reproduce for at least one litter to meet demand for pets among residents. (Humans are also encouraged to have large families.)

I think about the sadness being experienced by the Lunars. I adopted Kitty after Tfns was sent back to Uralia, before Clmntr came. She helped cure the loneliness I felt rattling around the vacant Embassy at night. She has become a good buddy. Of course, I was mourning the loss of someone who hated me and tried to frame me for murder. Maybe that's easier to cure.

I ask the vet whether it would help Lunars, depressed after NP1, to adopt pets. She says, "It wouldn't hurt!"

The vet and her assistant are kind and gentle, but Kitty has a strong sense of her own person. Visiting the vet is just one indignity after another! Stick you on a cold, metal pan to weigh you, look at your ears, look at your teeth, stick a metal thing on your chest, and (worst of all) stab you with some sharp thing and inject something into your body!

On the way home, I am singing, but Kitty is silent.

She is mad at me.

I can't blame her.

***

Yaeyeia and her Aide beat me to the Park bench. "We're in trouble!" she greets me.

"How so?"

"Well, maybe not WE'RE in trouble but THEY'RE in trouble."

"Who?" I enquire.

"The Lunars! The humans! So many of them died from NP1, and now they are trying to kill themselves from depression!"

I glance at her Aide. He nods sadly. "My Uncle is the man who tried to commit suicide Friday night."

I make sympathetic noises.

"And a cousin in New Harvard has a friend who is becoming an alcoholic."

"Anti-depressant drug usage is increasing. Visits to physicians, psychiatrists and psychologists are way up. Demand is greater than supply."

"The Lunar Government is creating a Commission," I volunteer.

"Fat lot of good that'll do!"

The Aide nods agreement.

Obviously Lunar Government Commissions don't get a lot of respect.

***

About a week later (a Lunar week, not a Rdwr) Yaeyeia and her Aide are making a presentation before the Lunar Government Commission!

THE Lunar Government Commission - the one no one has any respect for!

Although it is practically unknown for a xeno to speak before a Lunar Government Commission, especially with a recommendation, Yaeyeia assures them she speaking only because her Aide is too shy to do so - it is really HIS idea. The Commissioners would probably resent it as outside interference in Lunar affairs otherwise.

Yaeyeia and her Aide are making a recommendation to have, in each City-State, a series of initially weekly, then maybe monthly open, Government-sponsored "Therapy Meetings" in which attendees can tell their stories, air their sorrow, their anger, their helplessness, whatever is on their minds. The hope is that these meetings will create a sense of community in adversity. A community of support.

The Lunar Government Commission actually likes their idea, but they hate the name "Therapy Meetings."

"The Commission thanks you for your inputs." Scattered applause. Yaeyeia and her Aide leave, not feeling particularly certain that they have made an impression.

***

The Commission really would like to find a silver bullet - some chemical that can be included in the air or the water to make everyone happy again.

Of course, that does not exist. This is a complicated problem and the solution must also be complex.

Veterinary services in many of the City-States are advertising adoption of free pets.

The Commission debates on.

The Relaxation Station announces "Freebie Tuesdays." After a deluge of customers, they spread it out to be: Free Booze Tues! Free drugs Weds! Free Party Thursday! Then it becomes "half-price." "Free" wasn't paying the bills. Similar facilities in other City-States are also trying to cheer customers using lower-price vice.

The Commission churns on.

Yaeyeia and her Aide arrange for a "Town Meeting" (which sounds more neighborly than "City Meeting" and less clinical than "Therapy Meeting") at the Sports Center led by a group of Psychiatrists and Clinical Psychologists where people can say what they want. These are well-attended, and people want them to become weekly events. Other City-States try something similar.

The Commission wrangles on.

A City Choir forms, meeting at the Smedley Center on Tuesdays. Lnbršr joins; he is quite a good singer.

The Smedley Center also offers yoga on Wednesdays, meditation on Fridays and relaxation techniques on Mondays. (Folk dancing already has Thursdays.)

The Commission dithers on.

Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) is being offered on the com as are various religious services. Some sites broadcast soothing sounds.

The Commission stops meeting. The problem is being handled. They declare victory.

I can see why citizens are unimpressed by a Lunar Government Commission...

But I am impressed with the citizens! They have developed numerous ways to handle a complex problem that cannot be solved simply. With so many solutions available, most people will find something that works for them.

***

People's anxiety, sadness, confusion do not go away. They do moderate. Lunars have a saying: "Time is a great healer." We have something similar. Probably most species do.

Maybe not the Gilgot... they probably have something more like: "Iodine is a great healer." They're more practical, not so philosophical.

Lunars, descendants of refugees fleeing oppression on Earth, are both exceptionally resilient and exceptionally vulnerable to being swatted by the giant fly-swatter of the Universe (a Uralian visualization, although we have pests a bit different from Lunar flies.) They are vulnerable because they saw their world deteriorate once before; they fled and built a new, maybe better world. To see that better world "swatted" would be especially painful. And they are resilient because, well, they've seen it all before. And survived.

The Lunar Government (without benefit of a Commission) declares June 4 to be "Recovery Day." It is to be a sort of Thanksgiving, without expectations of (and disappointment over the lack of) turkey, cranberries, and pumpkins.

There are a lot of new pop-up ads on Government com sites encouraging citizens to have large families.

I think the Lunars are surviving and recovering from NP1 and lockdown. Although "recovery" is still an aspiration, not an achievement.

If they can only survive their Government! Ah, well, we must ALL survive our Governments!