Fearless, DD walked across the chamber, holding out his glowpanel. Then the compy said in a delighted voice, “It is only Sirix—in fact, all three Klikiss robots. They have returned!”

The heavy black machines moved into the light, passing one at a time through the stone tunnel opening. Margaret stared in amazement, for she had seen the three robots swept away in the raging flash flood. Clumps of clayish mud coated their exoskeletons. One of Ilkot’s scarlet optical sensors had been smashed and now glinted a dull garnet. Their black carapaces looked battered and dirty, but otherwise undamaged.

“We are … intact,” said Sirix. The trio of grimy robots paused inside the chamber, looking around and scanning, as if recording everything they saw.

“Well, I am impressed at your indestructibility,” Louis said cheerfully. “Come, look what we’ve found. A mummified Klikiss cadaver, the first we’ve ever seen!” He was excited, like a schoolboy anxious for show-and-tell.

Margaret, still uneasy, looked at the immense beetlelike robots. She recalled how difficult it had been for the three humans to scale the cliff wall—even with DD’s ropes and automatic pitons. And that had been before the landslide. “How did you get up here, Sirix? I thought you were incapable of climbing that cliff.”

“We managed,” Sirix said.

Then the robot turned to study the Klikiss body that had nearly fallen to dust on the floor, wedged between the strange machinery. The other two robots stared at the intact trapezoidal stone window, as if searching their scrubbed memory circuits.

85: OTEMA

85OTEMA

Engrossed in her task, the old ambassador from Theroc rarely left her crystal-walled chambers in the Prism Palace. The Saga of Seven Suns transported her farther than any sightseeing journey could have. Otema had everything she needed, except time. The epic was far too long to read in the remaining years of her life.

Filtered light shone around her so that her photosynthetic skin felt drenched with warmth and nourishment. Two potted treelings rested on the table, each one four feet tall and thriving in the bright environment. She read aloud until her scratchy throat forced her to pause. Otema reached for the jug of cool water she kept with her at all times. She took a long drink to soothe her dry vocal cords and sat back to rest for a moment.

At first, after surrendering her ambassadorial work to ambitious Sarein, Otema had felt uncertain about going to Ildira on this task and uncertain about what changes and concessions Sarein might make. She worried that all her careful protective labor might come to naught.

Once here on Ildira, though, after seeing the sheer potential of the Saga of Seven Suns, Otema realized she could contribute more to the overall well-being and knowledge of the world-forest than by engaging in political dances with a transient group of leaders on Earth.