“I will.”
“Also, if you say yes, then we’ll be working together,” Wilson said. “You and me and Hart Schmidt. Who is worried about you and quietly furious that he’s not allowed to talk to you yet and that I can’t tell him anything. Let me suggest that you let him in to see you as soon as that’s cleared from above.”
“I will,” I said again.
“You also need to tell us whether you want us to tell your parents about you yet,” Wilson said, gently.
This was something I had been waffling about. I was alive. But I didn’t think my family would be comforted by how I was right now.
“They still think I was lost with the rest of the crew,” I asked.
“Yes,” Wilson said. “We found lifepods and are retrieving the bodies and notifying the families. There was one lifepod that was destroyed. As you know. We can always say to your parents that some bodies haven’t been found. Which happens to be true, as far as it goes.”
“I’ll tell you what to do when I give you my other answer,” I said.
“Fair enough.” Wilson stood up. “One last thing. The State Department asked me to ask you if you’d do a write-up of your experience. A personal history.”
“You’ve already debriefed me.”
“I did,” Wilson agreed. “I got all the facts. I think they’re wanting to know everything else, too. You’re not the only person they’ve done this to, Rafe. I know that for a fact. At the end of this we’re going to have to put other people back together too. You telling us what it’s been like for you might help with that.”
“I’m not a writer,” I said.
“You don’t need to be,” Wilson said. “We’ll get someone to clean it up so it scans. Just talk the whole thing through. We’ll figure it out from there.”
“Okay,” I said.
And that’s what I did.
And that’s what this is.
The life of the mind.
Well, my mind, anyway.
So far.
THIS HOLLOW UNION
To William Dufris and Tavia Gilbert, and any other audiobook narrator who might work in the Old Man’s War universe. Thanks for giving these characters a voice.
PART ONE
“I have to tell you that I am deeply concerned that our union is on the verge of collapse,” Ristin Lause said to me.
It’s been said, and I suspect largely by people who are not terribly fond of me, that I, Hafte Sorvalh, am the second most powerful person in the known universe. It’s certainly true that I am the confidant and closest advisor of General Tarsem Gau, the leader of the Conclave, the largest known political union, with over four hundred constituent member species, none of whom number less than one billion souls. It is also true that in my role as confidant and advisor to Tarsem, I have a great deal of choice in terms of which things to bring to his attention; also that Tarsem chooses to use me strategically to solve a number of problems he would prefer not to be seen involved with, and in those cases I have a wide amount of personal discretion in solving the problem, with the full resources of the Conclave at my disposal.
So yes, it would not be inaccurate to say that I am, indeed, the second most powerful person in the known universe.
Note well, however, that being the second most powerful person in the universe is very much like being the second most of anything, which is to say, not the first, and receiving none of the benefits of being the first. And as my position and status derive entirely from the grace and need of the actual most powerful person in the universe, my ability to exercise the prerogatives of my power are, shall we say, constrained. And now you know why it is said of me by the people who are not terribly fond of me.
However, this suits my personal inclinations. I don’t mind having the power that is given to me, but I have only rarely grasped for it myself. My position has come largely from being usefully competent to others, each more powerful than the next. I have always been the one who stands behind, the one who counts heads, the one who offers advice.