This planet has really good soundproofing tech and that's great. He looks at the pictures as they go by.

One of them is a really good vaguely-Impressionist-style portrait of Cassea. There's a photograph of the family together, both children a few years younger than currently. Beside it is what looks like a crayon drawing by a child of - probably also the family? Then there's a watercolour painting of a landscape, a beautiful bluff with a gnarled windswept tree growing on it, overlooking an ocean. 

Cassea notices him looking, and smiles broadly. "Veth painted that. She used to love painting, she's...stopped, lately." The smile dims a little. "Anyway, here's your room." 

The guest room has a door which offers EVEN MORE thorough sound isolation; when Cassea opens it and shuts it behind them, they're suddenly in near-total silence. One wall is almost entirely a window - no, sliding glass doors, opening to a teeny private balcony that overlooks the back yard. It's currently dimly-lit, though, with twilight fading into dusk. Cassea fiddles with a panel beside the door, flicking on various lights - some bright ceiling-light panels that are almost like true daylight, a string of fairy-light-esque globes strung around the perimeter of the ceiling, various lamps that seem to come with sliders for brightness and colour. 

"What's your bed preference?" she asks him. "The mattress is on the firm side but we've got a spare topper, if you like it softer." 

"Firm is fine, thanks. Cool collection of light fixtures in here." He thinks vaguely that he hopes Veth's schedule problem or inspiration problem or whatever her trouble is goes away.

"I'm glad you like them! Spare toiletries here." She pulls open a drawer and shows him a neatly organized and varied spread of everything you would find in a hotel room plus a lot more things like 'sleep mask' and 'lip balm'. "Spare linens and nightclothes in the wardrobe - the clothes are all one-size-fits-all, for unexpected guests, we can take you on a proper shopping trip tomorrow." 

"Thank you so much!"

 . . . Now that he's looking at a bed it's suddenly salient that he's several hours of jet lagged and has mostly been running on nervous excitement and curiosity. "Is it alright if I go to bed now? I'm kind of not used to this time zone yet."

"Of course! That's absolutely fine. Bathroom is down the hall that way, it's the one with the curtain instead of a door, should be easy to find. You're welcome to raid the fridge if you wake up early and want something to eat. Sleep well!" 

She heads out. 

He briefly ponders why you would want a bathroom with a curtain instead of a door (ventilation?) then decides this is a problem for Tomorrow Bruce and goes to bed. He's kind of expecting to lie awake for a while worrying, but instead he passes out immediately and doesn't wake up until the sun rises or someone knocks on his door.

No one bothers knocking on his door! 

There are blackout curtains for the windows, but Bruce didn't close them before going to sleep, and as the sun rises, light seeps into the room through the ordinary curtains. Birds twittering outside the window are just barely audible across the double-paned glass, and if anyone else in the household is awake, it's impossible to tell through all the soundproofing. 

In that case he will figure out the shower controls, discover to his quiet delight that the spare clothes have printed labels rather than itchy tags, and head downstairs to see if anyone else is awake and can help him get set up with a tablet.

Cassea is making breakfast, singing to herself. 

And Elix is at the dining table, doing something on a tablet that might be homework or might be a game of some kind, hard to tell. 

"Bruce! Did you sleep well?" 

"I did, thanks! When one of you has the time, I heard there was a spare computer I could use to look up stuff like when my doctor's appointment is?"

"Oh, right, yes! I'm so sorry, I should have thought of that. Guess we don't exactly have a standard checklist for people arriving from another world! Elix, sweet, can you go get your Dad's spare tablet from the storage area?" 

"Moo-om. Do I have to. I'm practicing." 

"You can put it on pause, can't you? Which I can't do to these eggs." 

"I can go look for it if you don't mind me poking around in there. Or just wait until you're free."

"My son is perfectly available. Elix, you could show him your attic setup?" 

"I guess I could." Apparently this is appealing enough to compete with practicing. Elix pauses his tablet and hops up willingly enough. "Follow me?" 

"Sure. What were you practicing?"

"It's a new game for spatial skills! You need to fold or unfold things in your head in order to solve the puzzles in the maze and know what way your character should go, and it's on a timer, and -" 

Elix chatters about his spatial skills game, almost without pauses for breath, the entire way through bounding up three flights of stairs and swarming up a ladder to a trapdoor in the ceiling. "Here!" 

Sounds like a nifty game! "Ooh, a trapdoor, fun." Into the ceiling with him.

It's an unusually nice attic! It's finished, though not painted with anything more than plain grey primer; there's no exposed insulation-foam or boards or any other hazards for a small child, and it looks like it was probably set up as a playroom at some point. It's currently mostly stacked with boxes on one side. 

The other side has...some sort of complicated bizarre-looking contraption; it resembles a blend between a weightlifting rack, one of those electric massage chairs that show up at airports as a novelty, and an...ergonomic computer workstation? There are gloves hanging from wires, currently draped respectively over two halves of one of those ergonomic keyboards, and a number of other straps and Velcro bits, also dangling wires. All the wires snake together underneath the chairbench part, joining into a sort of umbilical cord that goes...somewhere...probably that box... 

Elix is bouncing with suppressed glee. "Dad and I made it!"

He bends and reaches, tenderly and lovingly, for a box resting at the foot of the chairthing, which, when opened, proves to contain what's recognizably a VR headset. 

"It's for working on the virtual-online Chaosworld! ...There's not very much there yet but it's a work in progress!"