Finally it was time for a test flight.

Steve turned to Iona. “I think you should disembark.”

“Why?”

“Because this crate might easily blow up three seconds after we leave the ground.” He turned and addressed the figure. “No disrespect to your workmanship, mate.”

“I’m sure it won’t blow up,” said Iona when the figure failed to mount a defense of the craft it had helped to make.

“Even if it doesn’t,” said Steve, “I might crash it, or the atmospheric pressure system might fail . . . Look, this is the whole point of doing a test flight.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t.” Steve folded his arms and sat back. “I’m not taking off until you get off the ship.”

The figure looked at Steve, then at Iona. It seemed a little distressed, unable to navigate the conflicting desires of two humans it had been instructed to serve. “It seems . . . you must disembark?”

Iona sighed, stood up, and walked toward the door of the craft. “Yes, alright. I’m perfectly confident it won’t blow up, though.”

When the craft took off Iona didn’t turn to look at it. She was walking across the plain, back to the valley, and she had other things on her mind. As she’d predicted the craft did not blow up. She’d watched the figures put the thing together for the past two days and they struck her as a diligent bunch. She needed to go back to the medical facility and prepare for their departure.

* * *

It was late when the craft returned from its test flight.

Steve and the figure who’d instructed him disembarked. They agreed some tests would be run on the craft overnight, just to make sure no flaws had developed during the flight, and then the humans would leave tomorrow morning when it was light. Steve thanked the figure for its help and then walked down the steps that led to the valley and the medical facility.

He sensed something was wrong as he approached. The sun was setting but the lights inside the facility weren’t on. Perhaps the other humans were all elsewhere? Some kind of farewell party thrown by the figures? He couldn’t quite picture them doing that, but then who knew how they might have interpreted the new protocols that had been laid down.

He quietly opened the door to the facility and lingered on the threshold. The entranceway was dark and silent. He wished the figure had come down to the facility with him. He wanted someone else to go inside first. But there was no one else around, not anywhere.

“Steve?” came a voice from within—Iona’s voice. “Is that you?”

“Is everything alright, Iona?” he said. He couldn’t see her. It sounded like she was in the communal area.

“Is anyone with you?”

“No.”

Sounds of movement from inside. Iona appeared in the entranceway, her expression grim, and marched toward Steve. Before he could speak she strode past him and grabbed his wrist. “We need to go.”