"Either," Bohr said.
I suddenly realized that none of the five other members of the table had even picked up their forks to eat. The rest of the mess hall, which had been alive with the telegraph-tapping sounds of utensils hitting trays, had also gone largely quiet. I recalled Jane's comment about everyone being interested in me. Apparently, she was right.
"I liked my life," I said. "I don't know that it was exciting or even interesting to anyone who didn't live it. But for me, it was a good life. As for the idea of having a life before this one, I didn't really think about it at the time. I never really thought about what this life would be like before I was in it."
"Why did you choose it, then?" Bohr asked. "You had to have some idea of what it was like."
"No, I didn't," I said. "I don't think any of us did. Most of us had never been in a war or in the military. None of us knew that they would take who we were and put it into a new body that was only partially what we were before."
"That seems kind of stupid, sir," Bohr said, and I was reminded that being two or whatever age he was, was not conducive to tact. "I don't know why anyone would choose to sign up for something when he really had no idea of what he was getting into."
"Well," I said, "you've also never been old. An unmodified person at seventy-five is a lot more willing to take a leap of faith than you might be."
"How different can it be?" Bohr asked.
"Spoken like a two-year-old who will never age," I said.
"I'm three," Bohr said, a little defensively.
I held up my hand. "Look," I said. "Let's turn this around for a minute. I'm seventy-six, and I did make a leap of faith when I joined the CDF. On the other hand, it was my choice. I didn't have to go. If you have a hard time imagining what it must be like for me, think about it on my end." I pointed to Mendel. "When I was five, I hardly knew how to tie my own shoes. If you can't imagine what it's like to be my age and joining up, imagine how hard it is for me to imagine being an adult at five years of age and knowing nothing but war. If nothing else, I have an idea of what life is like outside the CDF. What is it like for you?"
Mendel looked at his companions, who looked back at him. "It's not anything we usually think about, sir," Mendel said. "We don't know that there's anything unusual about it at first. Everyone we know was 'born' the same way. It's you who are the unusual ones, from our perspective. Having a childhood and living an entire other life before you get into this one. It just seems like an inefficient way to do things."
"Don't you ever wonder about what it would be like not to be in the Special Forces?" I asked.
"I can't imagine it," Bohr said, and the others nodded. "We're all soldiers together. It's what we do. It's who we are."
"That's why we find you so interesting," Mendel said. "This idea that this life would be a choice. The idea that there's another way to live. It's alien."
"What did you do, sir?" asked Bohr. "In your other life?"
"I was a writer," I said. They all looked at each other. "What?" I asked.
"Strange way to live, sir," Mendel said. "To get paid for stringing words together."
"There were worse jobs," I said.
"We don't mean to offend you, sir," Bohr said.
"I'm not offended," I said. "You just have a different perspective on things. But it does make me wonder why you do it."
"Do what?" Bohr said.
"Fight," I said. "You know, most people in the CDF are like me. And most people in the colonies are even more different from you than I am. Why would you fight for them? And with us?"
"We're human, sir," Mendel said. "No less than you are."
"Given the current state of my DNA, that's not saying much," I said.
"You know you're human, sir," Mendel said. "And so do we. You and we are closer than you think. We know about how the CDF picks its recruits. You're fighting for colonists you've never met—colonists who were your country's enemy at one point. Why do you fight for them?"
"Because they're human and because I said I would," I said. "At least, that's why I did at the start. Now I don't fight for the colonists. I mean, I do, but when it comes down to it, I fight—or did fight—for my platoon and my squad. I looked out for them, and they looked out for me. I fought because doing any less would have been letting them down."
Mendel nodded. "That's why we fight, too, sir," he said. "So that's one thing makes us all human together. That's good to know."
"It is," I agreed. Mendel grinned and picked up his fork to eat, and as he did, the room came alive with the clattering utensils. I looked up at the noise, and from a far corner saw Jane staring back at me.