The Barbliic translation of "And the next piece of celestum / is the cold cold cold ring / a sunken saucer / underneath Antarctica. / The funnel shape connects to the core / and when we make our new low homes / we'll make them far below it!  Hey!" rhymes and scans and is set to a little tune.

"Ah. Well, I guess I could just pick a lower cavern to start in."

"As I said I would not have landed here on purpose."

"Understandable." He turns around and flies out of the cave. "Anything you want to see about retrieving from the wreckage of the crash, given I don't know if I can replicate luck, or nah?"

"No, I got everything mine."

"Alrighty. Let us seek a more hospitable cave so the climate control isn't fighting celestum." Out and down.

Isaac produces a fiddly protractor-looking thing from his duffel bag and announces, "I can tell how far down is safely warm!"  He checks his wristwatch and adjusts some slidey mechanisms on the device before holding it at arm's length and lining it up with the sun and squinting.

"...is this the mystical exotic power of trigonometry or is it straight up magic," Cam murmurs to Felicity.

"I think it's just trigonometry."

"Also, is he going to wreck his vision staring at the sun, or is this sun friendlier?"

"I'm not sure; I think we're closer to it than most places one would generally go on the surface."

"If it would be in question on the surface then your sun is friendlier."

"Stots.  Well I'll ask if he knows," says phone-Felicity as Tangerine presumably does that.

"The sun is safe to view from above when it's the apparent size of a fist at arm's length and from below or at height when matching a thumb!" he declares.  "Or smaller."

(They're currently still above it and it looks between fist- and thumb-sized.)

"If you say so! I don't personally need this information because I am indestructible but I wanted to know if I should be scheduling you an eyeball transplant."

" - An eyeball transplant!!  You're indestructible??  Can I have indestructible eyes?  Or anything else?  I'll trade for it if there's anything I could do that you want."

"I can't make parts of you indestructible, sorry, even if I transplant them."

"Aw."

"Sorry."

"Thanks."  Gadget squint fiddle fiddle point.  "That cave and below should be safe in terms of cold."  Cough cough.

"Do you want an expectorant? - uh, or whatever's recommended locally for smoke inhalation, I shouldn't give out the drugs I know -"

"I predictably kind of want to try the probably-poison indestructible people medicine - " coughity cough cough " - but I have some more honey and will start with that."  He rifles through the duffel and produces a mostly empty little screwtop jar with a crack running through it and sets to slowly drinking the honey out of it.

"The issue isn't actually that I'm indestructible, I'm trained to work on people who are not, but the medical paradigm is otherwise different."

"Why?"

"The kinda people I'm trained to work on are biologically more robust and stuff."