The tides are thoughts

The illusion of dapper civility evaporated as the robot added, “Your carbon came from a class G star.  It is old and stable.  You also have interesting quantities of phosphorus and manganese.  You shall serve well on your world when you die and decompose.”

Tarkos stared.  After a moment, Ki’Ki’Tilish said, “You must understand that Tiklik’al’Takas was not developed in social intercourse, among Galactic citizens.  You must treat it as a child.”

Easier said than done, Tarkos thought.  He had no idea how one treated Kirt children.  “What is a Kirt child like?” he asked Ki’Ki’Tilish.

“As larvae, we drift without purpose on the dark ocean currents while sentience emerges.  It seems to us that the tides are thoughts.”

“Whoa,” Tarkos said quietly in English.  “What a day.”  Then he added in Galactic, “Please, come.  I will show you the ship.”

“Please do so,” Ki’Ki’Tilish said.  “I want to see the place where we shall perish in flame.”

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