“That’s small?” I asked. From how close we were, the lightburst took up a good chunk of the horizon.
“For a star, yes,” M-Bot said. “That sphere, gauging by my best readings, is a fraction of the size of Earth’s moon. It could perhaps be a neutron star if this were the somewhere—which would make Lord Hesho’s metaphor particularly acute. At any rate, it certainly shouldn’t be so cold for how much light it releases.”
I leaned forward and tried to imagine the feeling of sunlight. The vast majority of my ancestors had lived in a place where warmth came from the sky. I’d never felt so distant from them as I did at that moment, sitting before the strange light of the nowhere. Contemplating my cowardice.
I’d learned, in my time with Skyward Flight, that I wasn’t a coward in the traditional sense. I didn’t fear battle. I wouldn’t run from danger. But…here was a different opportunity. A way to run from the war, and even responsibility, in their entirety.
“The delvers told me,” I said softly, “that they’d leave me alone if I agreed not to continue on the Path of Elders. They even implied they’d back out of the deal with Winzik.”
“Curious,” M-Bot said. “Why would they make such an offer?”
“They’re frightened of me,” I said. “They proposed a truce. They hate my presence in here, but they’re willing to tolerate it in order to not escalate our interactions.”
“And if we continue?” M-Bot asked.
“They’ll consider that an act of aggression. They’ll do everything they can to stop us.”
“A dilemma,” M-Bot said.
“Not if I stay,” I whispered. “Chet wants me to join him exploring, and Peg wants me to train her people. Both made me offers earlier.” I leaned forward, my hands clasped, not looking toward his drone.
“How likely are the delvers to keep a deal?” he asked.
That question again.
“Hard to say,” I replied. “They’re frightened now, but who knows? We have no evidence that they’re trustworthy. If Winzik came to me with a similar deal, for example, I’d discard it in a heartbeat.”
“Curious,” M-Bot said. “Spensa…I’ll admit, I’ve been thinking of my own dilemma.”
I glanced at his drone. “What?”
“My old ship,” he explained, “had specific circuitry that let me process in the nowhere. That’s why I could think fast enough to…well, be me. But the drone…well, do you remember how I talked when you first found me in it?”
“Slowly,” I said. “Like you were struggling for each word.”
“I can only assume,” he explained, “that being in the belt lets me process quickly, regardless of the machinery I inhabit. But my old ship, the one that let me think so well in the somewhere, has been destroyed. I no longer blame you for that, by the way. I’m getting pretty mature, I’d say.”
I smiled.
“Anyway,” he said, “if we leave this place, what happens to me? Do I return to thinking like my processors are made of oatmeal?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems…for a little while at least…that would be inevitable.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” he said. “For weeks now. And I’ve decided. I’m willing to go back. We have a war to win. I decided I’d try inhabiting the best computers we had; maybe one on the platforms. I think I’d make a good space station, don’t you?
“If not that, maybe we could steal the schematics that Winzik must have made while disassembling my old ship. Then we could build me a new proper brain. But anyway, I decided that if you went back, I’d go with you. I just…just thought I should tell you.”
Scud. He was braver than I was. I felt ashamed for not noticing the dilemma he faced—this worry must have been bothering him ever since we entered. Some friend I was.
Thinking of friends made me sick again at what I was contemplating. How would I ever face Jorgen if I made the decision to stay?
A part of me, however, knew I couldn’t focus on his needs, or M-Bot’s decision. I had to decide what I wanted. Not choose my future because of what any other person—even Jorgen—would want me to do. For once, I had to think of myself.
I glanced at Hesho, wondering if he’d chime in. For now, he continued sitting in his meditative posture, his eyes closed.
“M-Bot,” I said, “I’ve spent my entire life being indoctrinated into the war for Detritus. I don’t blame anyone—except maybe the Krell—for that. We did what we had to in order to survive. But…I’m tired. Of watching people die. Of giving up my future to a war. Of living my life with my stress at a constant ten. How much do I owe Detritus? How much is one person expected to pay?”