Kyeo doesn't remember enough of the fight to know what happened, and his head is killing him, but when he checks he still has his sidearm and also now he's apparently crashlanded on a planet with absolutely awful-looking hostile fauna, wow, and that one's coming his way much too fast and he draws and shoots.
"I don't know who else short of the Glorious Leader himself and if he thinks he's going crazy that could be very bad. There isn't any magic, you understand, it'd just be - hearing voices - does that happen here?"
"Any organ can fail, and that includes the brain, and when the brain fails it can do so in peculiar ways, like hearing voices. I - suspect my father has not gone to a hospital because he is hoping it will go away on its own. The equivalent of a cold rather than a flu."
"I'm not a doctor. Maybe. Failures of the brain are often more complicated than ordinary injuries and infections, and even those are often very complex."
"I'm not sure we have forces that can be usefully committed since this is the wrong galaxy and we don't know how I got here. But it seems possible to work something out."
"Then it is - really important to us, to keep trying. I don't know what the most practicable way to go about that is. Do you think it is talking to your father? To both your parents simultaneously - that would make it seem less likely to be sickness, right - we could perhaps observe the Supreme Leader and learn the name and identity of an advisor, and speak to them..."
"Spying on the Supreme Leader is dubious even if you don't speak the language! I suppose we could try my mother - I didn't realize you could do two of these at the same time -
- could go to someone from another planet -"
"I've met the ambassador from United Kular to Ibyabek. I don't know what he'd do about this either, mind, but..."
"I'm not sure. I mean, the ambassador in particular already has a job - I don't know how much he's paid, the number wouldn't mean anything to me."
Kyeo does NOT watch Ambassador Peng in the shower.
He finishes his ablutions, shrugs on a robe, goes out into a hallway in the little ambassadorial house, kisses his wife good morning, puts a slice of bread in a pan with butter, and the scry is up.