[Don crosses his arms lightly over his chest, already feeling the pressure of the alien's denial. He doesn't know how long they have left. He doesn't know whether whatever's happening will affect him, too. All he knows is that something is horribly wrong with this place.]

Check your ship's readings. They're not going to make any sense, trust me. They'll change from minute to minute, or something. Dreams do stuff like that all the time.

[Don also knows for a fact he's asleep, but he doesn't have any way to corroborate that statement for now.]