After finishing breakfast, we adjourn to the sitting room. I take a minute to fold my blanket up so we have more space, and then MacWillie and Huckens join me on the sofa, the frame groaning slightly as MacWillie plops down at the end opposite me. Great Grandpa sinks gratefully into his favorite armchair, draping his home quilt - a thick length of crabroach silk embroidered with small yellow flowers - over his lower body. I examine the two engineers.

"So, the plan for today is to search for stuff from the wrecked ship? To build, uhm, an 'infonet receiver?'"

MacWillie nods, Huckens a half second behind her.

"Aye. Me and the lad will accompany you to the crash site, see what components we can scrounge up. Your 'Box' is sure it'll have what we need?"

Tell the person who tried to hunt us down and failed miserably that despite her massive level advantage, I am still 472% more capable than whatever malformed shard of reality is currently infesting her psyche. My creator's ship will contain sufficient materials.