“- S-s-s-s-s-s! The pale space marine Redward King turned around at the voice and couldn’t believe his own luck. Five steps away from him, right in the roadside dust, a linguampire was sitting and clearly wanted to communicate.- S- s-s-s! - he repeated and poked his thumb into the middle of his face bandage. Redouard hastily stepped out of the way. - Drink? – he asked and belatedly noted that in his excitement he had forgotten to use the transliterator. However, in this case there was no need for translation. - Drink, drink! - the linguampire responded in pure Russian, even without an accent, and nodded his head a little for greater persuasiveness. “So,” thought Redouard, “my native language is gradually becoming interplanetary...”