His expression did not change, nor his position, but, eventually, he slept. And, while he slept, the thoughts passing through his multi-cameral brain began to escape him, in a low, continuous muttering.
"… help, yes, they may help, they have convinced Siffaith of their good intentions, at least... good intentions... intentions... never work out quite as planned... plans... they have plans, I have plans...."
The muttering paused for a while, then resumed.
"… restore the Land, not an easy job, maybe too much for one person... but with their help, restore the control systems, re-energize the sun... and maybe more... do they need to know about more?... the control runs are broken, the subspace jumpers are inactive... they burned them out, at the control station, the one near the sun... but it is only a thing... the Land was made to move, subspace jump, travel anywhere... controls are broken... but anything can be fixed, given time...."
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