At last, Yr'Arl was going to get some medical attention.
With a flick of doctor Kreen's robotic wrist, a heavy clunk came from beneath the floor of the room that we had been in previously.
With a whirring sound and a set of vibrations that rattled the windows, the floor parted and a small camp bed rose out of the ground on a shuddering platform.
"Come, come, place him on the bed," doctor Kreen said, "My machines will see what is wrong with him, and do what they can to repair his damaged components."
The guy was speaking like Yr'Arl was some sort of robot that needed spare parts.
"Uh, there shouldn't be any need for… new components," I said, "For a start, he's completely biological and for a second this is just a case of dehydration with some probable heat stroke thrown in for good measure."
