“Oh, our cover’s totally shredded,” Amos said. “I thought that was a gimme.”
“It is,” Naomi said. “We don’t have a lot of options, and what we have got are bad.”
“What do you mean? You hand me over,” Teresa said. “Are we talking about this? Obviously you hand me over.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that, Tiny,” Amos said.
The girl furrowed her brow. “I’m not worth a hundred thousand people.”
Jim raised his hand like a student in a classroom. “Are you saying that you want to go back?”
“No, I don’t. Being there was killing me, but I’m one person and they’re most of a planet. You’re going to hand me over. You have to.”
“I don’t have to,” Amos said with a deceptive mildness. Jim heard the expectation of violence behind it, even if Teresa didn’t.
“Are we thinking that Trejo means what he says?” Alex said. “Just looking at the logistics? I don’t love it. If we did let Teresa go back, that means showing ourselves. Docking with one of their ships, maybe. And I’ve seen their power suits in action. If they decided to board us, they could go through us like tissue paper.”
Teresa’s frown shifted. It was fascinating. Knowing Laconia as well as she did, having seen it from as far inside as anyone could be, her first instinct was still to trust them. If Trejo was making the offer, it must be real. He must be sincere. A part of Jim wondered if that might not be a truer guide than his distrust or Naomi’s. The fresh eyes of the young seeing more clearly, or else the benefit of experience showing where the traps were set.
“Trejo was a Martian before he was Laconian,” Alex went on. “He betrayed his nation. I’m not sure that says a lot in favor of him keeping his word now.”
“My father was Martian too,” Teresa said, but there was no real heat in the words. More like she was thinking something through.
“The question is whether we can trust him to do what he’s promising,” Jim said. “The answer to that is inside Trejo’s skull, and we don’t have access to it. It’s just which side do we bet on?”
“That’s not the only question,” Amos said. “If we hand over Tiny, are we still the good guys? That’s a question too.”
“It is,” Jim agreed.
“If you can choose between one person and a hundred thousand, it’s not a hard call,” Teresa said. “I won’t even die.”
But Naomi’s gaze had turned inward. Something in Teresa’s words had done the trick. Jim saw her understand even before he knew what she’d understood. Naomi lifted her eyebrows and shook her head, just a millimeter back and forth.
“You know what this is?” she said. “This is him making me responsible for what he does. Teresa’s right. She’s got exactly the frame I’m supposed to use. One person for a multitude. But I’m not looking to kill a multitude. That’s him. If I do what he says, I’ll be saving all the people he would kill to punish me if I didn’t.”
Amos’ laugh was almost the same timbre and cadence as Muskrat’s little bark. When he spoke, he was mimicking the soft, threatening whine of an abusive lover. “Look what you made me do, baby. Why do you have to make me so mad?”
“That’s it,” Naomi said. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but that’s why I can’t do this. He’s holding a gun to their heads and then pretending that I’m the only one who can decide whether he pulls the trigger. That’s not a trust exercise. It’s just another threat.”
“Don’t forget the surrender. The amnesty,” Jim said. “There’s a carrot along with the stick.”
“Carrots don’t matter when he still gets to hold the stick,” Naomi said. “I’m done with sticks. Sticks are disqualifying. If he’d led by pulling the Derecho back from Freehold, it would be a different thing. He didn’t. He chose this, and I don’t trust him.”
Jim smiled at her. “Also, he’s asking us to hand over to him a young girl who doesn’t want to go, so fuck him. We don’t do that.”
“Fuck him,” Amos agreed.
The room was silent. Naomi pursed her lips and shook her head almost imperceptibly, continuing the conversation in her head. He wondered what she was saying, and to whom. He had the sense that, whoever they were, they were probably happier not being present for it.