Nothing happened.
Well, that was anticlimactic. Nick frowned, waiting. Nothing continued to happen.
There's got to be a trick to turning it on. Maybe I need to pick a channel or frequency or something. Nick looked at the controls. “Petra? Can I have a tutorial on using the communicator?”
“Tutorial not available.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Petra was good at parroting back like that.
Nick sighed, and thought about how to coax the information he needed out of the literal-minded alien rock. “Petra, how many transmissions are we picking up right now?”
“Zero.”
“How many transmissions can I pick up right now?”
“All.”
Nick rolled his eyes and tried again. “Petra, I am going to change all the settings on the communicator. When I do, how many transmissions will I pick up then?”
“All.”
He suppressed a groan. Come on, think, Nick. He mulled it over for a minute or two, then got another idea. “Petra?”
“Yes, Nick?”
“Which control should I adjust to pick up a transmission?”
“Clock.”
Clock? Why would resetting the clock—oh. Nick laughed silently. She means “wait.” Nobody's transmitting right now.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“You mean I need to wait.”
“Define 'wait'?”
“Let time pass.”
“I do not understand, Nick.”
“Increase my age.”
“Understood. Correct.”
“All right. Petra, let me know as soon as we start picking up a signal from someone else.”
“Exceptions?”
“None.” It had taken a while, but Nick had taught Petra not to wake him up for certain reports. He didn't want to sleep through a signal from potential rescuers, though.
Nick lay down for a minute, thinking. I've got a possibility of being rescued, or at least contacting somebody. But the range on this thing is like, the size of BigBall or so. So unless someone lands a spaceship on this planet, I won't be able to hear them.
Still, it's hope.
* *
It was quite a while later before Nick realized a problem. Uh oh. Suppose I do get someone on the radio. How am I going to talk to them? How do I explain that I need a ride home?
Petra also made a different problem clear by making requests that fighting monsters and traps get made as a high priority. What if I call people and they're hostile? Maybe I should listen to Petra here.
Nick checked on how much of Petra's manufacturing time would be used on the defenses, and decided to set it at 25% of production. Petra immediately sealed off two rooms that were going to become traps, presumably so that he wouldn't wander in there and get killed.
Petra, you might be taking this dungeon game metaphor a little more literally than your creators would have wanted.Nick felt a bit concerned, but there wasn't much he could do about it, so he mentally shrugged and moved on.
He tried to brainstorm. All right, suppose I call aliens and they are hostile. Why are they hostile? Most obvious, they want to kill me and take my stuff, particularly Petra. Only, they might not even know I have Petra. I don't know how tech works out there in the galaxy. Or money, for that matter. Do they even take stuff like gold? Can I pay them off?
For that matter, suppose they're not hostile, but they don't want to rescue me for free. What can I offer them? Is there any element that's valuable to them? Or something Petra can make? Petra herself has got to be incredibly valuable, but I'm not trading Petra away for anything. I wouldn't put it past Petra to be able to build me a starship and fly me home eventually.
Nick tried to figure out how to ask Petra about money. He poked through Argoroth Dragon Hunters 9 and looked at the gold counter, then thought about trying to explain it to Petra. He groaned and put his hands over his face.
How do I explain economics to an alien rock that can literally make anything it wants?