Finally, the mechanical stopped, hovering in place. It did not back up nor did it turn to go back the way it had come. As to its destination and whatever intended function Dev had interrupted, it gave no clue. They remained like that for what seemed hours but was probably less than ten minutes. Determined to end the standoff on terms he would dictate, Dev held his ground. He had no idea what he would do if the automaton suddenly decided to simply continue forward. He did not know how heavy it was nor how much motive power it could muster. Even if it eventually did nothing more than push him backward and out of the way, he would have learned something.

It did neither. Instead, a sound issued from within the gleaming body. Gibberish.

“What? I don’t understand,” Dev said.

“Ah. The dominant language of the last inhabited world. Do you perhaps understand me now?”

The mechanical’s accent was oddly familiar. It took Dev a moment to identify its origin. It sounded, he told himself in amazement, exactly like …

Him.

American English with inherited Delhi overtones. Not as thick an accent as that which afflicted his parents’ speech but definitely not Washington-New York. The relevant system on the alien vessel that was in charge of understanding and interpretation had evidently taken its linguistic cue from sounds collected in the course of surface contact with the human species. As he had been the principal talker in the course of such conversations, it had proceeded on the assumption that his accent was the most useful one to imitate. He felt oddly flattered. Standing his ground in a corridor on a starship far from Earth while conversing with an alien mechanical, the last thing he expected was to hear a synthesized voice that sounded much like himself.

“Yes, I can understand you now, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The cylindrical automaton replied with becoming, if disconcerting, politesse. “Will you please move to one side so that I may pass?”

“Sure,” Dev told it, “after you have answered a couple of my questions.”

“General information is not a specialty of mine. Nor is communicating directly with non-crew.”

“Don’t worry if you can’t answer,” Dev replied reassuringly.

“I was not worried,” the automaton stated flatly. “I do not ‘worry.’ You refuse to move?”

Dev held his position. Just because he was not conversing with an intimidating Kaijank did not mean that the mechanical was incapable of causing harm. All science incorporated some degree of risk, he told himself.

“I’ll move after you have answered, as best you can, some of my questions.”

The automaton remained motionless. Paying the odd pair no mind, other mechanicals continued to whizz by in both directions.

“I will try to answer your questions,” it finally declared. “Please be quick or I will be delayed in performing my intended functions.”