“Not good ones,” I admitted. “So thank you.”
Arturo’s expression grew serious. “You shot down that other cytonic,” he said. “You knew him?”
I could still see Quilan’s face as he bore down on me, destructors firing.
“I did,” I said. “He was going to kill me, and I got him first.”
“Right,” Arturo said. “That seems like it should make it easier, doesn’t it? But I’ve never had to shoot down someone I talked to. Someone I knew.”
I wanted to say the world was better off without Quilan in it, but I wasn’t sure that was true. My people had so few cytonics. We needed every one.
Maybe Rinakin was right. There was a place for persuasion. Quilan’s death was a waste, of a leader as well as a cytonic. Killing him had been necessary, but everyone would have been better off if we could have persuaded him to change his mind to fight for our side.
Now he could never change his mind, and there was a kind of tragedy to that.
“I’m not glad he’s dead,” I said, “but I’m glad I’m still alive. I wish it had all gone differently, but I don’t know what I would have changed, or if I even had the power to change it.”
“You had the power to do something really good for your people and ours,” Arturo said. “Does that make it feel better?”
I thought about that. “I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t regret it, I know that.”
Arturo nodded. “Yeah. Neither do I.”
He held my gaze for a moment, and something about the way he looked at me was thrilling and terrifying all at once. I followed after Jorgen into the control room.
Rinakin was finishing his broadcast. He slumped against the control panel, looking exhausted. His daughter stood by his side, urging him to come rest in one of the bunk rooms.
“We need to get him medical attention,” she told me.
“I know,” I said. “If the Independence medic can’t care for him, we’ll take him to a hospital soon.” Rinakin’s injuries didn’t look life threatening, but he should still receive treatment.
Jorgen leaned against the wall by the hypercomm. The purple and orange slug from his ship was now in there, and he tapped his fingers on the control panel, waiting.
“Admiral Cobb will speak to you now,” someone said, and then Cobb spoke through the hypercomm.
“Jorgen,” he said. “It’s about time you reported in.”
Jorgen frowned. Cobb had told him not to call, hadn’t he? Because he was trying to stay in good with the politicians, and not let anyone know he was involved in Skyward Flight’s desertion.
“We’ve been successful here,” Jorgen said. “We were able to save Alanik’s people and establish an alliance with them.”
FM and Rig appeared in the doorway. Rig’s hair was a bit messier than normal, probably due to some human mating ritual. I was still fuzzy on the details of all that, but humans were clearly uncomfortable discussing these things, so I wasn’t going to ask.
Arturo at least had been open to talking about his former girlfriend when we spoke before. Though the idea of asking him about human mating rituals felt…disorienting.
“That’s good,” Cobb said. “I’d like you to return as soon as possible for a full report. And bring some representatives of the UrDail with you, if you would. We’d like to begin official talks with them.”
Jorgen looked over at me. “Is it safe, sir?”
“Of course. It’s perfectly safe. The shield is holding fine. You have nothing to worry about. I have new orders for you as soon as you can get your people back here.”
FM and Rig exchanged a glance.
“You said before that the UrDail should stay away,” Jorgen said. “Because you worried they might become a bargaining chip in the negotiations with the Superiority.”
“Oh,” Cobb said. He sounded surprised, like he’d wanted to pretend he’d never said that. “No, the negotiations are at an impasse. If you return immediately, I can—”
Jorgen pushed the mute button on the hypercomm. “Something’s up with Cobb,” he said.
“Is your mother in the room with him?” FM asked.
“Maybe,” Jorgen said. “But why would he respond to my call if my mother was right there?”
“Maybe he got the message that you’d tried to reach him in front of her,” Rig said. “So he didn’t have a choice.”