Infinitys end books 7 9, p.45
Infinity's End: Books 7-9, page 45
“And that’s not important?”
“Of course it is. But in the last two thousand years, name a time when the entire Coalition was threatened with annihilation. When every planet was at risk, and you were so outmatched, you didn’t know what you would do to survive.”
Cas ran his hand along the edge of the bed, its soft covers tickling his hand. “There was the Sil incident, about a hundred years ago.”
“An incident you initiated. And that’s not what I’m talking about, because the Sil didn’t retaliate. But if they had—if they’d decided they would invade the Coalition and add it to their own territories, subjugating everyone within, how do you think you would have responded?”
Cas didn’t know what to say.
“You wouldn’t have turned over like the Claxians, I can tell you that,” Esterva said. She seemed to gather her anger and reset herself. “You know her better than I do, will she be okay?”
“She’s as tough as they come,” Cas said. “I don’t know many people as resilient as she is. No matter what happens, she takes the hits and keeps on coming. But this…could be different. I’m not sure she’s ever been cut so deep before.”
“I should go after her.”
Cas put his arm out, stopping her. “Return to your quarters. She needs a break.”
“You dare to order me around? I’m—”
“—on my ship, and I’m the acting captain. So unless you’re going to kill me right here, get back to your quarters before I have you dragged there. I’m not above using whatever means are necessary.”
Her eyes flashed and she pushed past his hand. “Will someone at least inform me my daughter is okay? I…I’m not used to inflicting harm on those I care about.”
“Give her some time. We’ll see what happens.”
Esterva’s large eyes stared at him for a moment, there was no telling what was going on behind there. But for the briefest of seconds, Cas thought he saw something he could only describe as a…humanesque quality. Her eyes upturned and her mouth pulled down into a frown, and she looked like she might cry. But the move was so subtle, only someone practiced in reading expressions would have caught it. He’d never seen any other species do something like that. Up until that moment he thought it had been confined to just his own and he felt a strange kinship with her. “Just…let me know.” She turned and left him alone in Evie’s room, wondering what he’d just seen.
Evie walked along the empty corridor, running her hand across the shallow metal shelf that sat up against the large windows on level two. Beyond the reinforced polycarbonate panes were millions—no, billions of stars with unknown number of species on planets surrounding those stars. What if she could start over somewhere fresh? After all, what was left for her here? The Coalition was gone, any family she’d once had was most likely long-since deceased and she’d lost the only command she’d ever had. It wasn’t as if she could transfer to another ship and start over, not that she would anyway. She wanted to mourn the Coalition, but after learning about its true nature, all its flaws and subterfuge, she wasn’t even sure she was sorry it was gone. Her heart went out to all the lives lost and all those destroyed by what the Athru had done, but the actual Coalition itself with its backdoor deals and corrupt admirals she didn’t miss at all. It had become a decayed, old thing that needed to die. But in its place was…what? A subjugated state where only non-humans were allowed to exist? If she wasn’t allowed here, then why not leave? What if she just pointed a shuttle in a random direction and took off, looking for a new place to live?
More than likely she’d run out of air, fuel and supplies before she found anything. It wasn’t like the shuttles could go as fast as Tempest.
Evie leaned on the shelf with both palms, her head sinking between her arms as she let out a long breath. Well, she’d wanted answers, and she’d gotten them. Her entire upbringing had been a manufactured lie—or at least based on one. She couldn’t decide if Esterva was worse for implementing the procedure or Osborn for agreeing to it, knowing the eventual consequences. Despite knowing what Esterva had done to him, her feelings for him hadn’t changed, and she wasn’t sure they ever would. Regardless if his mind had been fucked with or not, he had still been horrible to her through most of her life. But she mourned the life she could have had. Maybe if she’d had a loving family she wouldn’t have been so eager to get away, to find something else.
“Hey.”
Evie raised her head to see Cas standing at the far end of the corridor, half his face shrouded by the shadows created by the large windows. “I’m fine,” she said, lowering her head again. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I wasn’t worried, I just wanted to come up here for the view,” he said. She smiled but didn’t let him see.
“Did you throw her off the ship yet?”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you haven’t seen her lifeless body go floating by.” He walked over and stopped a few meters away. She glanced up to see him lean against the window, his back to it. “She’s headed back to her room.” When she didn’t reply he continued. “I figured if she was a spy, she’s the worst one I’ve ever met. A spy wouldn’t try to psychologically scar you for life, they’d want you to feel comfortable around them all the time.”
“Yeah, that is definitely not the case,” Evie said. “If I see her again there’s a good chance I’ll shove my fist into her gray, alien face.”
“I’ll make sure the sensors are off. No one will know.”
She turned to him. “Did I ask for this? I mean, what did I do that makes me such a magnet for terrible things? All this time I’ve been thinking my destiny was somehow connected to my heritage, that because I was part Athru it was for a reason. That maybe all the death and destruction I’ve caused wasn’t for nothing and some good would come out of it. But it turns out I’m little more than a mistake that someone couldn’t bring themselves to erase, so instead they just lied to me my entire life.”
He locked eyes with her. “It’s more than one person should have to deal with. But it’s not for nothing.”
“Yeah? How’s that? My entire history was manufactured, and I wasn’t even supposed to exist. My presence has done nothing but make things worse.”
“That’s not true. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now. Box and I would have died along with everyone else when the Athru invaded. Your presence has made a big difference to me. And if it weren’t for your suggestions and advice, we never would have come to Sil space in the first place and found Zenfor. As a result, the entire crew would have died at the Excel Nebula.” She hated to admit he was right, because on some level she liked the self-pity. It wasn’t a place she went very often, but when she did, she liked to indulge. And Cas’s arguments for her value were throwing her off track.
“Plus, the whole heritage thing is bullshit anyway,” Cas said. “You’re your own person, it doesn’t matter where you came from or what your upbringing was. When I met you, you were one of the best officers in the fleet. You did that despite everything you went through. I should know, because I went in the opposite direction. I was born into a military family and ended up being a pirate.”
She chuckled. “You weren’t a pirate. You were a courier.”
“For a corrupt authoritarian dictator who cheated, lied and killed to get her way.”
She shrugged. “A job’s a job. Isn’t that what they used to say in the Sargan Commonwealth?”
He moved a little closer. “Yeah. You did what you needed to survive. We were proud we didn’t need the Coalition watching over our every move, making sure we were being good little boys and girls.” He sighed. “But honestly, I wouldn’t have chosen it. I think part of the reason I came back with you was because I missed all this. I missed at least trying to do something good. Rather than just accumulate wealth and power. Not that I was any good at it anyway.”
“Well, you’re not a pirate now,” she said, pointing to the makeshift rank he’d affixed to his jacket.
He shook his head. “This is only temporary. Until you’re ready to take over again.”
“I’m not sure that day will ever come, Cas. I’ve lost the trust of the crew. Just look at the pilots down in the brig. They’re just the most vocal ones, but I know a lot of them don’t know if they can put their faith in me anymore. My actions had…consequences.”
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to stop you. I haven’t seen anything that could ever do that, yet.”
“I was just thinking,” she said, patting his hand, then holding hers there. “Back when you first came onboard all you wanted to do was get away. To fly off into the void, go find something no one has ever seen before. I’m starting to see the appeal.”
His hand dropped away. “Are you saying you want to leave the ship?”
“Maybe. All of this has taken the wind out of me. I’m not sure I see the point anymore.”
He was silent for a moment. “That’s not where you belong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your place is here, with us. I think if you give the crew a chance, you might find out they’re not as antagonistic as they might seem.”
Evie knew he cared, and he might be the last one on the ship who still did. And she knew he was trying to make her feel better about this whole situation. But if she wasn’t a starship captain, and she wasn’t a human or an Athru, then what was she? How were you supposed to know what to do if you didn’t even know who you were?
She sighed, staring out at the stars flying by, wondering just how far away each of them were.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
He wasn’t making much progress, if any. Cas had come up here to try and help Evie sort all of this out, but it seemed like he was only making things worse. But she wouldn’t really leave, would she? Where could she go? He didn’t want to lose her, not because she had to be there, but because she was his friend. Not to mention going off by herself probably wouldn’t be very good for her psyche. He’d been lucky he’d never had to be completely alone while working for the Sargans. And as much as he complained about Box, he was secretly glad he was around all the time, it made space seem a lot less lonely. Though he could never tell Box that as he’d never hear the end of how much Cas loved his shiny metal body. But he was pretty sure, deep down, the robot already knew.
Time stretched between them, and Cas could sense Evie was about to turn away in search of an answer that didn’t exist. He hated to see her in so much pain, but what could he do? What Esterva had revealed had been horrible. In fact, everything she’d said to both of them had been worse than he could have imagined.
“At least,” he began, testing the waters. “At least you asked. But she seems to have no shortage of free advice for me.”
Evie turned to him and he could see her concentration had been broken. “What?”
“Considering she blames me for the entire war. You know, nothing big.”
Evie scoffed. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? She’s just—”
“What? Angry? Confused?”
Her eyebrows drew down. “No. I don’t know why she seems to have such a problem with you. But you know it doesn’t matter, right? You’re obviously not the cause of the war.”
“I know,” Cas said, and he did. “But I can’t help but think what if she’s right. What if I had never gone against Rutledge and we’d acquired the weapon three seasons sooner than they did. Samiya never would have sabotaged it—probably—and the Coalition would have had a real weapon to use against their enemies.”
“You don’t know that,” she replied. She stiffened, clenching her jaw. “Someone recently told me that it doesn’t matter if you could go back, because you’d always make the same choice again and again. You were who you were then, and you made the best decision you could at the time. Did any part of you think you were wrong when you stood up to Rutledge?”
Cas thought about it. He’d been nervous to do it, and the moment had come so fast he knew he’d had to make a decision and quick. “Well, yeah. A big part of me questioned it. I wasn’t sure at all.”
“So, what pushed you over the edge?”
He squinted, thinking back to those tense moments on the bridge of the Achlys. “Knowing that killing those Sil to take their ship was wrong. It just…was.”
“See? You couldn’t have changed your mind if you wanted to. I’m not even sure if you knew at the time your actions might lead to a war that wiped out the Coalition you still wouldn’t have done it. Because you would have wanted to find another way.” She paused. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Cas shook his head. “No, I don’t think you are.”
“Plus, imagine what might have happened if instead of sending you out there to steal something, the Coalition had tried a diplomatic approach.”
“They tried that already, it was unsucc—”
“Not in the last hundred years. Who knows what might have changed in Sil society?” He arched his eyebrow and stared at her, a skeptical look on his face. “Okay, probably not much, I’ll grant you that. But imagine if you’d met Zenfor’s ship without the history of the Achlys. What might that have led to? We know the Sil are—or were—interested in the Claxians. And if Tempest had approached them instead of your ship, or if any one of a thousand different things had happened, we wouldn’t be standing here talking about it. So, don’t try to shoulder the blame for all of this, because it isn’t your burden to carry.”
“Wow, you’re really passionate about this,” he said.
“I just don’t like it when people are saddled with something that isn’t their fault or their responsibility. You did what you thought was right at the time, that’s all any of us can do. We can’t go through life second-guessing our choices.” She turned to stare back out at the stars zooming past.
He had tried not to let Esterva’s words get to him, and for the most part he’d been successful. Had it been two seasons earlier and he’d just come onboard Tempest and someone had accused him of what she had, he probably would have fallen into the pit of despair and wallowed in grief and remorse for much too long. But Evie was right, some things were beyond his control and he was just a small cog in a much larger clock. The Coalition could have approached it a hundred different ways, and they’d chosen to go with lying, stealing and killing to get what they wanted.
He tried to imagine what a meeting with the Sil would have looked like had there never been an incident with the Achlys. Would the Sil even have paid them any attention? Or would they have still considered the Coalition beneath them, and unwilling to speak or negotiate? He bet if they had come with evidence of the Athru approaching, and an olive branch in the form of Sesster or perhaps another Claxian, they might have been willing to talk. They didn’t hide the fact they thought humanity was well beneath them, but as Zenfor had made clear, that wasn’t the case with all of the Coalition’s races. Had diplomacy even been an option on the table? Or had Admiral Dix or one of the other higher-ups decided it was too much of a risk and approved Rutledge’s plan to attack instead? Cas was sure Rutledge himself had a say in the matter, because at the time he was one of the most decorated captains in the entire fleet. Despite all of his accomplishments, he was a classic “shoot first, ask questions later” kind of captain, which was part of what made him so successful in the field. He was willing to take risks others weren’t, and that often inspired loyalty among those under his command. Cas had almost been persuaded by that blind loyalty, right up until the end.
No, Rutledge never would have suggested they try to speak to the Sil first. He would have regaled the crew of one of the tales of his great-grandfather, a Lieutenant Commander in the brief Sil war a hundred years ago. His argument would have been humanity hadn’t changed enough, that the Sil considered them little more than an annoyance and not to be bothered with. He would have said it wasn’t even worth trying, because to the Sil, humanity would never advance fast enough.
“What are you staring at?” Evie had turned to him again, but her eyes had narrowed.
Cas hadn’t realized it, because as soon as he’d begun thinking about what Rutledge would have told them, an idea had popped into his head. “You,” he said. “You’re the key.”
“Key? To what?” she asked.
Thoughts were forming faster in Cas’s mind than he could articulate. Evie was still human, but yet she was more. “You could be exactly what the Sil are looking for.” If they could convince the Sil she was still human…what had it been that Esterva said? She was stronger than either species by themselves?
“Cas, what are you talking about?” Evie asked, exasperation in her voice. She was clearly done with all of it and her mind wasn’t thinking in terms of strategy. But this might be the thing that would push the Sil over the edge.
“Don’t you see? If you stood in front of the Sil Sanctuary, allowed them to see how far humans could advance…they might be willing to help us.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I think that’s a stretch.”
“Is it? Think about it. The Sil value those life forms they consider advanced enough to approach their level of development. We already know they’ve made a treaty with the Athru, and your mother said that you possessed all the strengths of both Athru and humans with none of the weaknesses. The Sil won’t be able to deny the evidence, because you’ll be standing right there in front of them!”
Her eyes widened and Cas thought they might have brightened as well, though he wasn’t sure. But she remained skeptical. “How am I supposed to get in front of the Sil Sanctuary?”
“The same way I was,” Cas replied. “Zenfor, Samiya and I were going to board one of their ships, and use the space beneath as she calls it, to reach the Sanctuary and make the case in-person. They won’t be able to refute or ignore you.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied. “You’ve already got this planned out?”
