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.”
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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.”
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“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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