back to the ship. There was still a lot of work to be done. The ship was slightly damaged externally. The most important thing to be done was seal the leaks in the engine room and get it into the air.
With the crew working together it only took three of the ruined planet’s days to make their ship spaceworthy.
Vicky was behind her controls again, watching the poison gas of a planet fall away behind them. She put her head down and folded her arms.
“What are you thinking?” Carl asked.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You sure about that?”
“I was just thinking that there must have been a time when that place was beautiful, full of life.”
“Yes, I suppose it was. Too bad no ships from our system usually come out this far, but we had no reason to suspect intelligent life until we detected the poison.”
“By then it was too late.”
“Not completely. After all, we did save some of their books, music, pictures, films, beliefs, all of that will live on in us. We won’t be the same after learning their story. Their painting, especially, did you see that one of what looked like their mountains? It looked ancient, they will change us tremendously.”
“True, and the next time we go back there won’t be a droid waiting for us, we’ll be able to collect all the rest of their artifacts.” She smiled at Carl. “You’ll lead the new mission, as a Commander should.”
“Commander?” Carl grinned. “You’ve made your decision then?”
Vicky shrugged.
“Trevor is too indecisive, I think all in all, we prefer you.”
Carl stood straight and tall, “Then let’s go home,” he smiled.
The ship rumbled, opened its wormhole through space and shot off beyond any visible horizon.
Deep below ground, in the center of the ruined planet, a solitary half worn sensor made one piece of a smashed arm on the droid turn towards the exiting ship. The base of the droid caught fire and was grinding against itself trying to rotate. After a few moments an alarm flashed on inside of its destroyed gear works.
Far, far away, hundreds of kilometers underground, another alarm was triggered. The automatic repair stations underground went into action. Machines powered up, gears whined from disuse. On the surface a mile from the droid a ramp appeared from underground.
A minute later a small robot pushing a cart at a furious pace burst onto the surface. The robot and its cart turned in the direction of the droid following an unseen road. A second robot and cart appeared, then a third, a fourth, and into the dozens, each one with gears, wires, gyroscopes, sights, new lenses, and metal to repair the droid. The final robot looked different, it was made to reattach the gravitational debris control magnet and poison expulsion tubes.
All the robots lined up behind the lead robot. Together they followed their coordinates through the blinding poison fog of green, calmly bumping and beeping over the rough, cracked ground.
Moving to repair the last droid.
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