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Davies, on the other hand, being only human, had to control the adrenaline that coursed into his body as he prepared for fight or flight. He had learned over the years to harness his adrenaline when he needed it and ignore it when he did not. Still, he found himself wondering what it was about the Thaf’ell makeup–biological or societal–that allowed them to talk about an enemy mere feet away as if they were remarking on the weather.

Thammah had been jumpy when she’d heard–or simply sensed–people following them. But had relaxed when he’d pointed out it was, undoubtedly, the Moturin. They might trust and worship the Pilot, but they were going to verify that the Pilot’s people did nothing down here untoward. But now that Thammah could see their enemy approaching, she was as calm and unruffled as if they were admiring a very sunny sky.

“We hold the line,” Davies answered.

If they retreated, they could lose Gehenna. He couldn’t allow that. She was just too valuable to leave behind. Not to mention that the Pilot needed and wanted her. As much as the Pilot operated at a superior level than a normal human, and definitely different than what his life had prepared him for, Davies knew that Jace needed certain emotional connections to keep him stable. Gehenna like Khoth was one of those. So he would not fail in bringing her back.

So he prepared to spill some more alien guts. It was all in a day’s work after all.

The lift ground up, but the “eyes” did nothing but crane and look at them almost as one. So either, these dozens of glowing red dots were the eyes of a single creature–and my God, how big and what was it if that true–or of dozens of creatures that acted as one was unclear. Davies’ finger rested alongside the trigger. He could have ordered them to open fire. But training for working with alien species was surprisingly kicking in. What had they told him? Oh, yes, not to assume hostility simply because something looked hostile.

Finally, the light on their suits was able to determine what they were seeing. Davies blinked. He blinked again.

“Holy smokes, what are they?” Davies breathed.

The lift reached their level and the “eyes” which were lights on top of black stalks attached to round bodies. They weren’t made of flesh but calcanth. They weren’t eyes per se, but sensors and they were attached–one eye stalk per body–to a single creature. The creatures silently rolled past them. The eye stalks swiveled to watch them as if the creatures–or droids–were curious. They rolled through the doors that Davies and the others had just come through and headed up the stairs on spider-like legs that ejected out of their bodies. There was a faint plink–plink sound as the metal tips struck the stone. One of the creatures paused by Davies’ left leg. It stuck out a little vacuum-like device from its body rather like he’d seen R2-D2 do in the movies, and cleaned up some dust on Davies’ pants.

“I think we know now how the labyrinth is kept so clean,” Davies remarked as he was vacuumed and brushed before the little robot sucked back in its attachment and rolled on.

“Of course! It would have to be something like this!” Thammah laughed. “Jace had the AI make machines to clean up the Khul. These machines are just ones designed to keep the buildings clean. They were probably programmed long ago and they just keep running and doing their assigned tasks. Amazing!”

“Machines like these might also be why the machinery has continued to work so well on Altaeth worlds,” Davies mused as he slung his draagves over his shoulders again. “They likely have droids that service them.”

“Yes! You’re, undoubtedly, right!” Thammah’s blue-on-blue eyes glowed with excitement. “Those that have not just assumed the Altaeth tech is godlike have supposed that something like this must be keeping the machinery running. Some kind of self-repair protocol.”

“But it’s slowly breaking down,” Davies theorized. “The Pilot senses that. It needs resources probably to keep up systems that it’s run out of over time. And, I’m sure that there have been errors introduced that cannot be fixed by the AIs.”

“Strange, we've never seen them before,” Matzen said.

“People likely have. But have ascribed to them other attributes. They seem rather shy,” Davies remarked as the last one disappeared from sight.

“What do you suppose a fully operating Altaeth world would look like?” Thammah asked, looking enthused and curious as to what he thought.

“Shouldn’t you be the ones telling me that?” Davies asked gently, but with a lifted eyebrow.

“The Altaeth were gone long before we discovered Haseon and their other worlds,” Matzen answered. “In the beginning, we attempted to discover how the tech worked, but that just led to many pieces being irretrievably broken. As time went on and working tech became rarer, it became a crime to attempt to take apart or even fix broken tech.”

Davies blinked. “But if it was broken⁠—”

“It was believed that the tech would right itself if it could be fixed. Multiple instances of such things occurring seemed to sustain that view,” Matzen said.

He had put his draagves away as well. That was the only indication that he was feeling anything different than before they had been facing an unknown foe. It was truly fascinating.

“That sounds…” Davies stopped himself from what he wanted to say.

“Strange? Odd? Illogical? Welcome to the Thaf’ell, Davies!” Thammah laughed. “We’re very good at creating random rules and following them. While Matzen is right that there was a reason behind not touching the tech at one point, now there are those who treat it like a religion. There are accounts of people being attacked for even trying to repair something.”

“Attacked?” More eyebrow lifting from him.

“Not on Haseon. But on worlds farther from the core,” Matzen said as if that somehow made it better.

“So in the sticks? I see. Yeah, we say that about our rural cousins.” Davies cracked a smile.

“It is where our ways are not strictly enforced.” Matzen stood at attention.

“You mean the Thaf’ell ways? Or the Alliance ways? Because you’re no longer in the Alliance and, while you’ll always be Thaf’ell and we welcome all different species and opinions aboard, you are crew of the Osiris first and foremost,” Davies reminded him.

Matzen really stood at attention then and nearly saluted. “I understand, Lieutenant-Commander. While I may not have spoken as forcefully as Flight-Commander Pyrrhus about how limiting some of Thaf’ell society can be, I am eager to experience the more open nature of the crew.”