Belatedly, he realized he had no means by which to collect data about this unknown Tiralan who had apparently taken him hostage. He should be able to scan this being and know almost everything. He couldn’t. In fact, just looking around seemed to be the peak of his current abilities.

“Try speaking. Your current form creates sound differently than your prior incarnation. Initiate the words here.”

A touch, one he felt, not with sensors, but through…skin? “I… demand…an explanation.” Once he got the first syllable out, communication became easier, but it carried with it an unusual resonance, vibrations he could feel.

In fact, he became aware of other sensory input–subtleties he had never been able to detect before. The room swelled with a chemical tang. His mechanical avatar could have analyzed the precise ratio of the compounds, but he would not have been able to experience them. Not like this. Helix had no parameters to measure the input he was receiving, and instead of letting the rush overload his inexplicable senses, he closed his eyes, waiting for a response.

“I’m Qalu. And you are?”

“Helix.”

She went on, “This is my home and my workplace. Your ship crashed near here and your mech self was destroyed beyond repair. Fortunately, I noticed the uplink to your ship, and I saved you by copying your neural network to a new host.”

Silently, Helix considered the information imparted. There was a crash. I nearly perished. This Tiralan saved me.

“You…have my gratitude,” he managed to say.

“I’m pleased I could assist. Unlike many worlds, Tiralan has no proscriptions against artificial intelligence. In fact, that’s the crux of my work, and why I had a biosynthetic form awaiting imprint when your vessel plummeted.”

He listened to this explanation with partial attention while frantically searching his unresponsive neural network. Helix could not recall anything after his departure from Barath. He had intended to build a new existence, starting on Gravas Station, but he had no idea whether he’d ever gotten there. In fact, he could not be certain how much time had passed since he parted from Zylar and Beryl.

“What is the date?” he asked.

Qalu supplied the answer.

Six spans had passed, not a full cycle at least, and he had no idea what he had been doing for that time. Suddenly, her words registered fully. Biosynthetic?

“Does that mean I am made of meat?”

“Organic material is much cheaper than high quality inorganic,” Qalu said cheerfully. “I can grow bodies in a vat from a few cells, no need for expensive mining or refining techniques. Otherwise, I’d never be able to afford to continue my research.”

“Meat?” Helix repeated.

This was surely a curse, one he had called down with his subterfuge involving Beryl Bowman. Was there a human deity devoted solely to vengeance? He did not have access to that information, but it seemed probable, considering his current predicament.