You take refuge behind your desk. "You there, voice?"
"Am."
It's beyond odd to be talking to a voice in your head who sounds like you. "You're the intelligence that forced Gabriel's conduit to stay open, aren't you?" You have a moment of anger that it settled in your mind instead of his, followed by a moment of guilt that you'd think that.
"Gabriel is your offspring?"
"No! He's my advisee. I advise him." You sense the alien's confusion. "I teach. He learns."
"But you teach many."
Oh, good grief, how to explain the structure of higher education to an intelligence from another dimension? "Think of him as my apprentice."
"But your offspring you do not teach?"
"I don't have any—" You give up. Whether or not you have kids is unimportant given, you know, the alien currently camped out in your brain.