ReDawn (Skyward, #2.2)

I didn’t like the implication that the UrDail were at fault for that.

“We were allies for generations, not only in the last human war. And now my people are in trouble,” I said. Unity tried to suppress the history, but I’d read the books Rinakin had on the subject. “A rival faction is rounding up those who want to maintain independence from the Superiority, and they’re going to use us as leverage. If we first work together to rescue my allies, we can then build a coalition to fight back against the Superiority together.”

“So you’re asking for help,” Jeshua said. “Not offering help to us.”

“I think Alanik is saying that an alliance between your peoples would be mutually beneficial,” Cuna said. “And I concur. The UrDail are still somewhat aggressive, but if that aggression can be properly channeled—”

    That was enough. “We aren’t aggressive,” I said. “We are defending ourselves, same as you are. And together we have more resources—”

“We are using all our resources to help ourselves,” Jeshua said.

“It seems like a good offer,” Cobb cut in. “If we share knowledge and resources, we’ll all be better positioned to fight back.”

“Maybe,” Jeshua said. “But if we align ourselves with rebels, we might lose the opportunity to bargain with the Superiority. They are the ones with the real power.”

FM and Jorgen both looked at me. The last time they’d talked about bargaining with the Superiority, I’d reacted poorly. That clearly had been the wrong tactic. Finis said a good spy was levelheaded, measuring her reactions.

“If you bargain with them,” I said, “you will always find that your wood returns to you rotten.”

“Regardless,” Jeshua said, mostly to Cobb, “We can’t send our starships away. We need them to defend Detritus.”

“The shield is defending us now,” Cobb said. “This might be the best time to send some of our ships away, to strike out instead of hunkering down here and waiting for the Superiority to devise a new way to come at us.”

“This isn’t our decision,” Jeshua snapped. “An interplanetary alliance should be voted on by the National Assembly.”

“That depends,” Cobb said. “If it’s a military operation, then the DDF should make the call.”

I didn’t know enough about human politics to know who was correct, but I did know enough about politics in general to guess that everyone would interpret the law in the way that best suited themselves.

    I reached out to Jorgen’s mind, hoping he wouldn’t react visibly. Do you agree with them? I asked him.

Jorgen stared at his unruly taynix, who was lying on the table just out of his reach, fluting softly.

I don’t know, Jorgen said. It isn’t my call.

I know it isn’t your call, I responded. I’m asking what you think.

We don’t have a policy for this. There’s no precedent.

That wasn’t an opinion either. Were these humans not even allowed to think for themselves? How had they managed to outlaw that?

“Perhaps you could offer Alanik some quarters while you discuss it,” Cuna said.

“Yes,” Jeshua said. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

I didn’t. “My people are in danger,” I said. “I don’t know how long they have before they’re turned over to the Superiority.”

Aside from FM and Jorgen, only Cobb looked sympathetic. The rest merely stared at me like my problems were none of their concern.

Still, my only choices were to wait them out or return home empty-handed, with nowhere to run and no way to help my brother, or Rinakin, or the rest of the resistance.

“But I would appreciate that,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

If they took too long, I’d have to come up with another plan. I couldn’t leave my people in Unity’s hands for long.

But I couldn’t save any of my people on my own.





Six


Because Cuna professed to be some sort of ambassador to “lesser species,” the humans allowed them to escort me to a low-ceilinged room with strange rectangular furniture. At home we carved our furniture from wood, and even basic inexpensive pieces would have designs carved into them. The more upscale furniture would be soaked and bent, the chair arms and headboards molded into swirling shapes. I stood in front of an armchair that consisted of a fabric cushion stretched over a metal frame, every piece forming a square angle.

I sat down on it. It was more comfortable than it looked, I would grant them that.

Cuna assured me that they would speak to the humans about my offer and then left me alone in the room. They weren’t gone more than a minute before there was a soft knock on the door. I could feel a congregation of cytonic resonances on the other side.

Jorgen and his slugs. “Come in,” I called, and Jorgen opened the door. FM stood on the other side with him, holding a basket of something green and flaky. They both stepped in and shut the door behind them.

“Cobb said we could bring you food,” FM said. “But we didn’t know what your people eat. Cuna said that algae wasn’t toxic for your people, so we brought some for you to try.” She pushed the basket into my hands. I knew what algae was, but I’d never thought to eat it. It grew beneath the surface bark sometimes, and could form in our atmospheric water generators if we weren’t careful to keep them clean. “Cuna also told us that you were more likely to eat fruits and tree nuts. We don’t have any nuts, and this was the only fruit we could find.” She shoved a small object into my hand. “Detritus isn’t the best place to grow things.” The fruit was red and roughly round and had a small brown stem at the top. It was much smaller than the fruits that grew on the trees at home, more similar to one that might grow on a vine on one of the farming branches.

    “Thank you,” I said. I moved over to a small table—also square, with straight-angled legs. The conference table had been the same. These humans were very fond of right angles.

“I’m sorry about my mother,” Jorgen said.

“Your mother?”