"I can zoom out more, get more surroundings - you won't be able to see her if I get the whole planet but nonetheless -" And he's holding a small Earth. Offers it to her.

"Huh. Well. That's Earth."

She cradles her tiny planet in her hands and adds this story to her collection. It's a good story. She smiles at the tiny human again.

" - can I keep her, do you think, is she going to rot?"

"She is mostly plastic, so she should hold up for a while, but I haven't actually investigated the long term storage needs of naively plasticized human models."

"OK. I'll - see how long she holds up for, then."

"Do you want a better one? I can look up how to make a better model of a person that will definitely hold up."

"Maybe? Uh - I might not be around for as long as the model, so I don't know how worth the effort it is."

"Well, let me know if she falls apart, I will be happy to replace her for you anytime. Why would you not be around?"

"Because - I think the way this goes is that you take us down to the Carthon embassy, and that's good and right and sensible, and you talk to them and you learn about the situation and you figure out what all you're going to do with your powers besides make tiny model Liars, and so you help lots of other people, but then it turns out that nobody wants to help you protect your little collection of liberated property, and there's no place for us to escape to that's willing to back you up, and the Alteri are still figuring out how to get their belongings and their pride back, and at some point they decide the best thing they can do is get within killing range and flip the switch, and then - I'm dead."

"Yeah, nah, if I can't figure out how to dig that thing out of you some alternative must be devised, you need to be alive."

"I do?"

"Yes. For reasons. I would prefer to explain sometime when there are fewer people around."

"All right." She doesn't sound very reassured, but she doesn't ask further questions.

"Sorry, just, the psyon probably already knows, I don't know who she'll tell but I don't want it too well known."

"No, it's fine."

And now she's just going to spend the rest of the trip thinking about all the conceivable reasons why it might be imperative to keep her alive. Including all of the terrifying possibilities, plus new terrifying possibilities that have been invented purely for this exercise.

"- here, you know what -" He produces a slip of paper with some written Confederate One. It says If you die I go back home.

"Oh." This is somehow both better and worse than expected. "Well that's not an ideal situation."

"It's really not," he agrees. The paper disintegrates in her hand.

"I'll try not to die then. I guess. Insofar as I have any control over this at all."

"Please," he agrees.

"I - should go check on the others. Since our work crew leader isn't here. But thanks."

"Sure. We'll land in maybe half an hour, longer if they want to stop us for more procedural stuff before then."

She nods. She carefully tucks her tiny plastic planet and her tiny plastic ancestor into one of her biosuit pockets, then goes to check on everyone else.

The Carthons don't, as it turns out, require more procedural stuff. The embassy building broadcasts its location and immediately informs them that the Atriama is clear to land in the back lot.

The Atriama sets down gently in the back lot. Cam runs some atmosphere tests in case the Carthons have done something horrible to the air to make it more comfortable for themselves or something.

Nope. Early 21st century Earth atmosphere, slightly concerning CO2 levels and all.