It was reasonable, Krelian had always thought, to have certain expectations of computers. There was logic to programming, even if it sometimes transcended his understanding of the moment. Even nature, itself spawned from an ancient, god-like machine, adhered to certain laws.

The SOL9000 was a bitter disappointment.

As a machine it functioned exactly as it should, replicating patterns of mental waves, archiving memories, offering reasonable imitations of sight and sound. But it seemed a computerized existence did not necessarily lend itself to /logic/.

"You brought a /Lamb/ to do the job?"

"How are we to fulfill our purpose in a machine?"

"If he had the skill to revive our minds, why did he not revive our bodies? Miang!"

Krelian pressed his lips together. Quite ungrateful, weren't they? He'd worked weeks without rest to revive them in this machine, when he would have been much happier to let them die. /They/ were the cause of Sophia's death. They were lucky Miang was skilled in persuasion.

"What about Bethalel and Jahal? Where are the others?"

Miang's voice rang loud and firm. "Quiet."

Silence descended almost immediately, broken only by the droning hum of the machine. Each set of eyes, when the screens revolved to face them, were riveted on Miang. Krelian tried to resist the impulse to step out of the circle of light he shared with her, and returned their stares with what he hoped was defiance. He would rather die than let them think he was /afraid/.

"You're alive, aren't you?" Miang certainly seemed to have no qualms about speaking with them. How distasteful, that these were the beings she had to call her children. "Krelian managed to preserve your minds before your bodies died. You should be grateful, /children/. Show a little respect for your savior."