T he cargo drone settled carefully onto the very dead lawn. Or lawn-like flora, anyway. Whatever the plant once was, it had been used by the Quinlans as a lawn-equivalent. I glanced sideways at Bridget’s manny, an action made easy by the Quinlan form’s very mobile and independently movable eyes. The resulting double-image was hard for human minds to handle, but I was figuring out how to pay attention to one eye and ignore the other. It was something the Quinlans did easily and routinely, so it would probably be noticeable if the people in our group never did it. Like a human who never moved his eyes but only swiveled his head.