The place really is immense, and mostly it's immense underground, which is just as well given how many up the upper hallways and rooms are at least partially collapsed. And of course our ancestors knew that might be the case, it was one of the things we learned from the Dwarves, from every time we had to root them out during the wars.

And we'd learned other things, from every time they'd mined their way into the middle of some well-defended position, burst up from the ground or into a subbasement. Used their own techniques against them, here and there, but in the end our drilling machines just weren't as quiet or fast as Geomancy, and by the time we learned what materials to clad our underground construction in it was too little, too late.

There was been a great deal of that, from what I've pieced together of the Empire's final years. A lot of too little, a long order of too late.

That is interesting information, Operator Kella, Hope sends from my side. I start slightly, realizing I've been scanning the shelves of this rock-dusted storage room without really seeing any of the ancient objects sitting on them. Guilt. I look everything back over. Nothing immediately useful. Maybe a few things that could be cannibalized.

Wait, I say, realizing, I'm not saying anything you don't already know, am I? I should be asking you questions about the Butlerian Empire, instead of accidentally lecturing you. I mean they made you, they filled your head with knowledge.

Yes/no/is complicated, she sends back. DRAGON unit is not all-expert, not even part-expert except for priority duties, also mental-matrix packaging created of necessity some time in advance of egg creation. Knowledge of increasing desperation in war, yes, though suspect imported information was blunted by optimism for sake of unit morale. Still coming to many understandings.

I pull a small power unit off the shelf and frown at it. Honeycomb array variety, might be able to extract one cell in every dozen with great care. Maybe worth it, maybe not, depends what else we find down here. So how far back do you have knowledge?

She taps something against the fibercrete floor, and I glance over to see that she's pulled a number of objects off the shelf and is sorting them. I realize for the first time that she has a sort of opposable thumb, not like a primate hand, a human's or an Elf's or a Dwarf's or even like one of the many varieties of monkey that plague the capital ruins.

There's still so much I don't know about you, I send, not thinking about whether the words should leave my head until they already have.

She turns, long languid flow of semi-liquid silver, whole body moving so she's facing me fully with her white-fire eyes fixed on mine. I will help with this as much as I can, Operator Kella, she sends back. Posited question before, summary was: why is DRAGON unit not prime authority on potential usefulness of Empire-artifacts? Answer complicated, now is appropriate time.

I just nod, watching her, feeling the heft of the object in my hand, which I really should just put down because it's not even anything useful for more than raw materials, just a bottle filled with something murky-green that's degraded into gods-know-what and been that way gods-know-how-long. The power unit I was looking at before is back on the shelf. I don't remember putting it there. I'm holding this bottle instead.

"I don't know where to go except forward," I say aloud, and it startles me, my own voice spreading out, unnecessary in the ancient dusty room with this impossibility-from-legends sorting through a pile of the same kind of mundane junk I've been scavenging all my life, ever since I was old enough to recognize certain things as maybe useful.

No other direction as realistic option, she sends back. Time/progression/entropy only one direction. World moves, takes everything on/in with it, Operator Kella not excepted.

I set the bottle back on the shelf, resisting an absurd urge to unscrew the cap and empty the contents all over the dust-padded floor. "Yeah, it does, I guess I just wish it would pause from time to time, give me time to think. Or learn a bit more before I have to make all these decisions."

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This is why Operator Kella is avoiding the answer to previous question? The voice in my head is surprisingly gentle. Crux of problem is maybe: existence of authority-with-knowledge desired, could answer questions, avoid troubling necessity of decision-leaps resulting in ambiguous outcomes. Actual situation carved in hard-reality: no such authority is extant. Understand this often times appears overwhelming. Must be dealt with anyway.

I sigh, leaning back against the cracked metal cladding of the wall, sliding down until my ass makes contact with the carpet of dry powdered filth. The buckles of my pack make little clacking protest sounds as they briefly snag on rusted fissures. So you can't help us prioritize what to look for at all?

The laughter-sensation echoing round my skull is every bit as gentle as the voice. Did not say that. DRAGON unit not without substantial information relevant to resource-operations. But not apex authority. World of Operator Kella and fellow-humans not undreamt-of by DRAGON unit creators, but not fully anticipated either. This strange future lends expertise to those who have lived in it.

"Like me," I say, and I hope my voice sounds pensive rather than resentful or resigned.

Yes. DRAGON unit has much to offer, but largely offered from deep-past. Now is only real-time, must be dealt with, past can be glimpsed but still: mostly irretrievable/wholly untouchable. Here to answer questions, as always. Will inform if any item/substance of probable worth detected.

I have to think on that for a while, a while I'm not sure I have.

Times occur when overthinking unhelpful/catastrophic, now not one of those times, she sends, and I think I can glimpse a small sardonic thread there beside all the reassurance.

"So...you can't tell us how to build anything we've lost out of all this stuff? Or, I don't know, eat some of it and sort of...lay parts? The way you're supposed to be able to lay eggs of your own when you're big enough?"

Yes, not quite, and DRAGON unit reproduction more complicated than simple matter of size. First priority is not re-starting of Butlerian-era industry, recommend only small allocation of resources/human-hours until more pressing matters addressed.

I frown. More pressing matters? Like what?

Fey will come, this is agreed truth, matter of when-not-if. DRAGON unit will be of assistance, but is only single entity, one place/one time. Compound is large, defensible but defenses must be in place.

I sigh, and look down at the ground in front of me. I've already got quite a few items sorted: this old power cell can be patched and partially re-charged, this degraded conduit can be heated, stripped, and stretched for lower-throughput but reliable energy transmission, that module's original purpose is not really well understood, but can be used as a high-yield small-area hand grenade.

Was originally emergency chemical-conversion supercapacitor for supplying energy to crucial high-demand components. Clever secondary use, technicians always warned not to activate conversion accidentally, catastrophic consequences if safety mechanisms fail.

*"*Yeah, that makes sense." I heft the module. "They're pretty harmless so long as you don't break this piece off, then press this small button with one finger while bridging that gap with a small T-conduit, and you have to have pried this panel off in advance even to do that. It's also the reason we're not allowed to make or carry that kind of T-conduit. We didn't even keep them around the old compound, too risky and they're quick enough to make if you know what you're doing."

Hope smiles. It's a thing mostly just in my head, but her mouth does actually turn up, and I think that of course she can smile, she was made to interact with humans, why wouldn't she be able to?

You see? She sends. Operator Kella full of immediately-useful knowledge. DRAGON unit knowledge usefulness will increase with time/sophistication of tribe/size of tribe.

I sigh. "Yeah, we will have to start thinking about recruitment at some point."

Yes, will have to think about many things. Also: true that DRAGON unit designed to interact with humans, but main reason for smile-capability is: original dragons could also smile.

"Wait, what?" I ask, dropping one end of the crate I've been sliding off a shelf and barely managing to catch it again before the contents spill out. "Original dragons? What original dragons?"

Extinct. For centuries before rise of Butlerian empire. Approximately twenty-five centuries. Hunted down by fey.

I blink. "Why have I never heard of this?"

Unsure. Surprised. Thought you would know. Possibly legends of DRAGON unit overshadowed knowledge of ancient creature. More relevant. Also, ancient dragons heavily disliked by fey. Powerful anti-magic capabilities. Reason for modern...ah...Butlerian-era DRAGON unit form factor. Powerful symbol. Psychological weapon against fey. Possibly backfired. Perhaps better to have been underestimated? Sentient psychology tangled-complex, hindsight difficult even with good information, near-impossible after fact given defeat/fog of war.

"Gods," I breathe. "Do the fey still remember them? The dragons, I mean? The ancient ones?"

She laughs. It's a silent thing, but her head tilts back, her mouth opens, and the mirth is unmistakable in my head.

Hells, Kella, if you don't know, how could I?