Beside her, Louis made an approving sound as the robots assembled the shed in record time. With glowing red optical sensors mounted at various places in their geometrically shaped headplates and numerous segmented limbs that sprouted from their armored carbon-fiber shells, the Klikiss robots were proficient laborers—powerful, yet capable of delicate manipulations.

Beneath the robots’ main body core, a spherical abdomen was mounted like a trackball at the waist, from which sprouted eight flexible legs like bent millipedes, four on each side. The strange method of locomotion allowed the robots to scuttle over any kind of terrain.

Sirix, the ostensible leader, moved forward. “The assigned labor has been finished, Margaret Colicos. Your camp is prepared.” Sirix drew his six main manipulator limbs back into his body core and closed the openings with protective plates.

Over by the drilling apparatus, Arcas let out a shout as a geyser of cool, clear water sprayed upward. The shower ran over DD’s silvery metal skin.

The priest came to stand near Margaret, his smooth green skin glistening from the spray. “Chemical analysis shows it’s pure drinking water.” He licked his lips. “And it tastes delicious.” Margaret was glad to see the quiet man so excited. Thus far, Arcas had not seemed enthusiastic about being here with two archaeologists, but he had volunteered for the job. “Now that I have water, I can plant my twenty treelings. Enough to make a respectable grove here on this desert world.”

“Go ahead and plant them,” Louis said. They would eventually need the telink ability to send regular reports back to the Hansa.

“DD, would you help him, please?” Margaret said. She had hoped DD would be able to interact with the Klikiss robots, but so far the little compy seemed intimidated by the giant ancient machines. She decided not to rush things.

The compy hurried over like an eager child. “I have never planted treelings before, but I am glad I can assist. Arcas and I are sure to become great friends.” The green priest looked a bit uncertain about the idea, but accepted the offer of help with good grace.

“He’s a Friendly model,” Louis said. “Don’t let his enthusiasm bother you. It’s just his way.”

As Arcas and DD dug holes for the potted treelings behind the green priest’s tent, the three Klikiss robots stood motionless, like mechanical statues, staring at the orange-colored sky as it faded into dusk.

In the canyons and in the shade of the mountains, night shadows fell like guillotine blades as the sun passed over the horizon. Initial surveys had found that temperatures could drop by as much as forty degrees within an hour, but the archaeological team had brought batteries, warm clothes, heated shelters, and exothermic blankets. The archaeologists would be comfortable here in camp, though they would have difficulty sleeping on the first night for entirely different reasons.