Zoe's Tale

The Consu turned back to me. “Then all you need to do is give the order.”

 

 

“No,” I said.

 

“Don’t be stupid, human,” the Consu said. “You have been assured by me that I will assist you. You have been assured by this Obin that your pets here will gladly sacrifice themselves for your benefit, without delay or complaint. You will be assured of helping your family and friends survive imminent attack. And you have done it before. You thought nothing of sending hundred to their death to speak to me. It should not be a difficult decision now.”

 

He waved again toward the floor. “Tell me honestly, human. Look at your pets, and then look at the Consu. Do you think your pets will be the ones left standing when this is over? Do you want to risk the safety of your friends and family on them?

 

“I offer you an alternative. It carries no risk. It costs you nothing but your assent. Your pets will not object. They will be happy to do this for you. Simply say that you require this of them. That you demand it of them. And if it makes you feel any better, you can tell them to turn off their consciousness before they kill themselves. Then they will not fear their sacrifice. They will simply do it. They will do it for you. They will do it for what you are to them.”

 

I considered what the Consu had said.

 

I turned to Dock. “You have no doubt that those Obin would do this for me,” I said.

 

“There is no doubt,” Dock said. “They are there to fight at your request, Zo?. They know they may die. They have already accepted that possibility, just as the Obin who sacrificed themselves to bring you this Consu knew what was required of them.”

 

“And what about you,” I said to Hickory. “Your friend and partner is down there, Hickory. For ten years, at least, you’ve spent your life with Dickory. What do you say?”

 

Hickory’s trembling was so slight that I almost doubted that I saw it. “Dickory will do as you ask, Zo?,” Hickory said. “You should know this already.” It turned away after that.

 

I looked at General Gau. “I have no advice to offer you,” he said. “But I am very interested to find out what you choose.”

 

I closed my eyes and I thought of my family. Of John and Jane. Of Savitri, who traveled to a new world with us. I thought of Gretchen and Magdy and the future they could have together. I thought of Enzo and his family and everything that was taken from them. I thought of Roanoke, my home.

 

And I knew what I had to do.

 

I opened my eyes.

 

“The choice is obvious,” the Consu said.

 

I looked at the Consu and nodded. “I think you’re right,” I said. “And I think I need to go down and tell them.”

 

I walked to the door of the operations room. As I did, General Gau lightly took my arm.

 

“Think about what you’re doing, Zo?,” Gau said. “Your choice here matters.”

 

I looked up at the general. “I know it does,” I said. “And it’s my choice to make.”

 

The general let go of my arm. “Do what you have to do,” he said.

 

“Thank you,” I said. “I think I will.”

 

I left the room and for the next minute tried very hard not to fall down the stairs as I walked down them. I’m happy to say I succeeded. But it was a close thing.

 

I walked toward the group of Obin, who were milling about, some doing exercises, some talking quietly to another or to a small group. As I got closer I tried to locate Dickory and could not. There were too many Obin, and Dickory wasn’t somewhere I could easily see him.

 

Eventually the Obin noticed I was walking to them. They quieted and equally quietly formed ranks.

 

I stood there in front of them for a few seconds, trying to see each of the Obin for itself, and not just one of a hundred. I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing would come. My mouth was so dry I could not make words. I closed my mouth, swallowed a couple of times, and tried again.

 

“You know who I am,” I said. “I’m pretty sure about that. I only know one of you personally, and I’m sorry about that. I wish I could have known each of you, before you were asked…before I asked…”

 

I stopped. I was saying stupid things. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. Not now.

 

“Look,” I said. “I’m going to tell you some things, and I can’t promise it’s going to make any kind of sense. But I need to say them to you before…” I gestured at the cargo bay. “Before all of this.”

 

The Obin all looked at me, whether politely or patiently, I can’t say.

 

John Scalzi's books