"Wake, Heem," the female jetted peremptorily.

Heem snapped alert.  It was not the female of his memory, but Swoon of Sweetswamp of nowtime.  "You qualified?" he jetted anxiously.

"I did.  You squirted truth.  When I invoked your name, they removed me from forfeit and verified me instantly."

"You took long enough to return," Heem jetted irritably.

"How would you know?  You were unconscious."

"Pain is incorrect," the public spray sprayed.  "Zuum of Zestcloud is out.  Plan is incorrect.  Baas of Basewater is through."

"Give me that data," he sprayed.

"Three is incorrect," the public spray announced.

"Very well," Swoon agreed.  "Here is the list of correct entries.  Hard, Soft, Joy, Dense, Tedium, Ascent, Brittle, Humor, Direction, Sour."

"Diffuse is correct," the public spray announced.  "Diis of Delightfog possesses Ship Eleven."  There was a spray of sheer jubilation nearby as Diis vented his joy.

Heem considered the elements of the puzzle, at last prepared with complete information - but was distracted by another announced wrong guess.  It was hard to concentrate on the growing list while keeping up with all the wrong guesses, yet he knew he could not afford to ignore those errors.  "Swoon, we have reconciled our difference of the moment," he jetted.  "But we both have lost time.  Suppose we cooperate further?"

"This is sensible," she agreed.  "For this stage of the competition only."

"Agreed.  We work together to fathom the key, then derive two answers.  Once we have our ships, our deal is over."

"Agreed," she jetted.  "Are you apt at puzzles?"

"I am.  But I need a ready recall mechanism for the rejects."

"I have an excellent memory.  That makes me an apt space pilot, but a poor riddler.  You cogitate; I will recall."

Heem rolled into it.  Obviously there was a pattern of concepts, no two of which repeated.  Hard, followed by Soft - two extremes of physical properties.  Then a shift to a new variety of concept, Joy, followed by - Dense?  Why not Sadness, or Grief, or Misery?  If one pair of extremes was correct, why not another?

Maybe no one had thought to guess the opposite of Joy, so a new concept had been introduced instead.  He could check that now.  "Swoon, what were the error-guesses for Ship Four?"  He hoped she was correct about her excellent memory.

"Sorrow, Grief, Pleasure," she jetted immediately.

She did indeed have a good memory!  It probably did help her in piloting, for there were many details of fuel economy, energy absorption, and trajectory that were greatly facilitated by ready recall.  Heem's own piloting was excellent, but he depended on experience and intelligent exploitation of momentary realities, rather than on his merely ordinary memory.  He could do with less memory yet, since the illegal juvenile recollections were a constant liability for him.

But he could not afford the liability of that distraction now!  His theory had just been disproven.  Either Sorrow or Grief should have sufficed, but both had been rejected.

Could it be a number sequence, with concept irrelevant?  Every fourth guess was accepted as correct, after three rejections?  That would neatly eliminate three quarters of the contestants, guaranteeing that a sufficient number would remain to fill the available ships.  A very simple formula - but there was no requirement of complexity here.  Any entity who caught on could win his ship, regardless.

"What were the errors for Ship Three?" he jetted.