I tried to figure it out. Brain power, but not mine, not really anyone's, and yet, in a way, someone's. Then I jumped up and faced him, elated.
"The Brain! The composite brain of International Cybernetics!"
Clatclit emitted something that sounded very much like a sigh of relief, and nodded.
I thought back to his head-then-me gesture. "Then you mean I was rescued because I was the man chosen by the Brain?"
Three brisk nods.
Now I was really confused. I shook my head at Clatclit, and said, "I give up, friend. I'm out of questions you can answer."
He gave me a curious look, an expectant look.
"The only question I can think of is 'Why should Mars be interested in me just because I was selected by the Brain back on Earth?' And that's a tough one to do in pantomime."
Clatclit rose up proudly on tiptoe, as if stubbornly denying the slur I'd cast on his miming abilities. He looked hurt, and I felt like a crumb.
"Okay, friend. Try. But I don't guarantee I'll get it."