Something of the situation clicked into place for Iona.

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” said Iona gently. “That’s the native life of this planet.” She didn’t know this for certain but none of the creatures looked familiar; she didn’t get that flash of recognition she usually did when encountering something from the old world.

The figure shut off the images (it had shown at least a dozen by this time) and pointed the recording device back in her direction. “Yes. Protocol for preparation of a new planet. The terrain and atmosphere are to be made suitable where necessary. Prior to this, examples of native organic life are to be preserved.”

“Yes, yes—” Iona felt sure she was right about this now. “And that’s why you said you couldn’t let us die. I understand all that but we’re not part of the native organic life.”

“You were here when we arrived.”

“But we came here for the same reason as you, to set up a colony. We were both looking for life-supporting planets in this area—if we had similar criteria of course we’d both choose the same one. You’ve colonized our colony!”

The figure didn’t confirm or deny any of it. Iona wasn’t sure if it was still processing what she’d said or just had nothing to say.

“You see,” she continued, “you just swept us up with everything else. And the ship was in there—you probably built it around us, didn’t you—” Iona stopped and looked around. “But if you can do all this, if you’re so advanced . . . why didn’t you realize we’re not native to this planet? Wasn’t the spaceship a clue?”

“The presence of the spaceship was noted and reported to the deciders.”

Iona raised her eyebrows. “Deciders?”

“Yes.”

“Who are the deciders?”

“They define the protocols. Everything is clear.”

“They’re like . . . your bosses?”

“Yes. Anomalies are reported to the deciders.”

“So the buck stops with them. Okay. I’d like to see them.”

“You cannot. None of them are here.”

“Where are they then?”

“At home.”

* * *

The figure led Iona up a set of steps that led out of the valley and onto a bleak, dusty plain. A large transparent sphere stood incongruously on the soil. Suspended in the center of the sphere was a loosely humanoid creature that somewhat resembled the figures, but its body seemed more refined, made up of intricate threads in shades of brown and gray. And unlike the figures it wore clothing—a loose-fitting dark green plastic-looking garment. Set into its head, about where a human’s cheekbones would be, were two large black eyes. Iona couldn’t tell if it had a nose or mouth: if it did they were probably concealed under the fronds that made up its skin. The figures looked like what you’d get if you left this being to melt slightly in the sun. Iona and the figure stopped in front of it and looked up.

“This was our assigned decider,” the figure said.