Ktheg!lik woke up a few times during the night, still as vague as if she had heat fog. When she finally woke feeling alert, she checked her throat. It was still a bit sore, but her breathing was about back to normal. Softly she whispered, “When the wind ate the sun, and the moon ate the...” She left off the rest of the poem. So long as I don't push it, I can talk again.

  She paused. Nik!eh, thank you for my life.

  Ktheg!lik got out of the pool and got dressed, then went looking for Odaual. She found him in the kitchen area, counting the food supplies repeatedly and talking to Geh!kin back at the mine shelter. She slapped her hand on the wall to let them know she was there. Odaual still jumped in surprise. “Ktheg!lik! You're awake!”

  I think you said that last time, too, Ktheg!lik noted idly. “Hello,” she said quietly. She walked up to the alien radio and waved to Geh!lik.

  “Ktheg!lik, good! How do you feel?”

  “Like I caught an alien sickness and lived to tell the tale.” She couldn't speak at full volume, but Geh!kin didn't complain. He was beaming at her, ears most of the way back.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Minor. I'm on the mend. How are things there?”

  “Well enough, though we've been held up waiting for you to recover.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Petra won't take my orders.”

  “But, didn't I give you full permission to do anything I could?”

  “It was a translation error. Olabundada doesn't actually mean 'permission' in Galactic.”

  “It doesn't?”

  “No. There's an absurd amount of nuance. You know how the people of the Zenuak!la Islands have all these politeness forms of words that nobody else can figure out?”

  That was an exaggeration, but Ktheg!lik took his meaning. “Yes?”

  “Galactic is built with even more layers than that.”

  “Aliens have deep hierarchy?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “I'm guessing some do, and Galactic is meant for everybody to be able to talk to everybody, so it comes with all the flavors of the wind. Egalitarians probably just ignore most of that, but we're still calibrating Kthufu against Galactic, so we run into trouble sometimes.”

  “And we ran afoul of that?” The image on the board nodded. “Wait, if you don't have permission, how did you figure all this out?”

  “Petra has a standing order from Nik!eh to learn Kthufu, apparently. This fell under the purview of that order.”

  “So, what did...” Ktheg!lik winced and waved to Odaual to bring her some water. After a zeg or two of resting her voice, she tried again. “What did Petra think I said?”

  “You gave me permission to read anything that you have already read.”

  She folded her ears over her eyes a moment. “Guh.”

  “Mirror that.”

  “So, how do I give you equal authority?”

  Geh!kin sighed. “I don't think you can. Petra's not built for it. There's a chain of command—Nik!eh, then you, then me, then everybody else. I can kind of see why it would have to be that way, because Petra can literally command an army of automata and having contradictory orders at the top would be a recipe for disaster.”

  “Like a safety railing,” Ktheg!lik murmured. Petra's creators thought of everything. Well, I suppose they absolutely had to, when creating something with, given enough time, the power of a demigod.

  “So, now that you are awake and can give Petra orders, we should talk about what we want to do. As I see it, the two main options are: either you and Odaual bring Petra here, or the rest of us go there. If the carriage were not wrecked, I'd say for you two to just come back now and bring Petra with you. Since it is wrecked, we're going to have to build a transport either way. What do you think?”

  Ktheg!lik considered. She was heartily sick of that mine shaft. She knew that it would be much improved after some work, but still. There were a lot of unpleasant memories already associated with the silver mine. Against that was the logistical challenge of transporting twenty-four people from the mine shaft to Nik!eh's home, along with their remaining food stores.

  It made more sense to return to the mine shaft, but still she hesitated. She remembered the alien arboretum. On one hand, it was a potential danger and source of alien germs. On the other hand...Nik!eh had obviously cared about the little growths. He mentioned working hard to get them to start. It seemed a bit disrespectful to abandon them to die.

  She thought about the storage rooms on Level 6, too. That was a lot of useful material that would have to be transported or abandoned. Certainly, Petra could recreate it with time, but she would be busy for a while just digging out new rooms and setting up basic amenities in the mine shaft.

  Ktheg!lik was still feeling tired, so she postponed the decision. “Let me think about it. I can see arguments for both plans. Is there anything I need to tell Petra to do before I go back to rest?”

  “So long the golem is printing a steady supply of food in the meantime, everything else can wait one more day.”

  She found that Petra was perfectly willing to show her the production schedules for the three Makers. Sure enough, one Maker was devoted to food, another to medicine, and the third to pieces of a device that apparently would hunt for other survivors. She relayed the information and turned in for the night.

  Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, I will figure out the plan.