I passed the time by reviewing my archived surveillance vids of the Deltans. A primitive race of humanoids, the Deltans resembled a sort of bipedal pig/bat mashup. I’d more or less adopted them and become the great sky god for a generation or two, before joining the tribe in android form. It had been 63 years since I’d walked out of Camelot for the last time, after Archimedes’s funeral. I desperately missed my friends and the feeling of family that I got from living among them. Bill had scolded me on more than one occasion about the dangers of transferring my affections to a bunch of alien primitives. Well, tough.