I meant what I said to Christophe earlier. I just could not imagine that Morhal would sentence her to an exile so complete. While I'm not an expert in the history of the Qitan, I got a pretty good sense of things not only from my HuTA, but my own observances. She was the primary to the throne. No matter what she did or said, that had never changed. I'd seen her defy laws and rules, and get little more than a scolding from Ta'al; offenses that would have gotten others, even her sisters, executed. The very fact that I was never even flogged under her protection spoke of the power she truly had. Often, she even got a look of approval from Morhal, a small nod of pride from one primary to her successor. I can't think of anything she could have possibly done or said to change her status so completely.
The more I thought, the more sure I was. She chose it. Why?
Why!?
There was no answer. As before, my question simply echoed back to me after it bounced on the firmly closed part of her mind I was never allowed to reach. Was Christophe right, then? Did she really come for me? Did she chose the hell she was about to face?
A weight like no other settled on me. Did she really do this for me?
I never felt so guilty in all my life.
Chapter 17
I sat rubbing my aching head and drinking a coffee. Yes. Coffee. It's nasty stuff, but Christophe was right. It does the trick. The Bradley bot had offered me something for the headache, different medicines he assured me would cure whatever caused it. It made me laugh. It made me give a sad, tired laugh.
Ashnahta was three rooms away in the full body scanner. Three rooms away didn't quiet the internal yelling, the constant cursing, and the angered vexation of the entire human race. I begged her to be quiet and just do as they asked. She called me every name in the book, and she had a very big book.
Is it hurting you?I demanded.
It is an injustice! An indecency! They should be flogged with a...
Is it hurting you?
No answer, and I smiled into my mug. Silence. Blissful silence. Oh, I could close her off if I really wanted to. I could make the roar a dull thud, at the very least. I just didn't have it in me to do that to her. Her ranting and raving and silent yelling was only because she was scared. Scared, hurting, alone... I wouldn't close her off. But, I could make her zip it from time to time.
They're just trying to help, I offered. No response, but I could feel the temper ease.
"It's highly unnerving, you know," said Christophe. His voice made me jump. I forgot he was at the table with me.
"What's unnerving?"
"This inspeaking. I can tell when you are doing it. One might call it rude."
"Sorry."
"And now you're lying." He put his holo on the table and sat straighter. "They're getting here today."
They. Them. My people. My team. Ralph and Lynette and even Jillian. Dr. Karl would arrive next week. He was older and even the three day transport took a toll. He insisted on giving me a full physical personally. In all honesty, I think he just wanted to meet Ashnahta. "Oh," was all I could think of to say. I didn't really know how to feel about that. When I ran, I knew they'd follow me back eventually. My goal wasn't to run from them so much as to her. I thought. Now, the idea of seeing all of them again was...confusing. I wanted to. I was eager to introduce Ashnahta to the rest. I wanted them to see her through my eyes, to see such a large part of my life that I missed and...loved. I wanted to share this with them all.
And yet, I didn't.
"It must be hard, the blending of two lives."
At least I had Christophe. He was angry with me. Deeply, truly, and justifiably angry. Even though he would be for a long time to come, at least he understood. "I...yeah."
"I am going to share a little advice with you, as I feel you sorely need it." I looked at him and waited. "Take your lumps, as they say. You've earned them. Don't inspeak."
"I can't..."
He held up a hand to stop me. "I'm just giving you advice. If you choose not to listen, that's your prerogative." I shut up and listened. "I find the concept fascinating. I have sometimes almost felt..." He looked embarrassed. Out of the blue, the great, calm, always composed Christophe looked embarrassed. Interesting. He cleared his throat. "I am open to the concept. That is what I'm trying to say. Others, however, will view it as some secret gift between to intimate friends."
I had to laugh. "I guess that's what it is."
"And other friends do not like being left out of the secret."
Ah.
"Try not to. Or, if you must, try to be as discreet about it as possible." I opened my mouth to object, to tell him that some things couldn't be controlled. "Just try. For yourself."
I could see his point after thinking about it for awhile. "Anything else?"
"Yes. Bradley would appreciate it if you'd stop telling him how to do his job. And I agree."
Now that one was really unfair. "No." Christophe quirked an eyebrow. "If he's going to do things...well...wrong..."
"He's not doing anything 'wrong', Jacob. He is a bot, and with excellent programming."
"For a human. Not for a Qitan. The anatomy is totally different."
He was amused. I could see him fighting a smile. "I am informed that it is actually remarkably similar. At least in ways that matter." Was he picking on me? Joking? I couldn't tell. "I understand what you are saying, but perhaps you should consider a way to approach it more delicately."
I snorted. "He's a bot. By the very definition, I can't offend him."
"He's a dopple-bot, and even if the feelings are synthesized based upon the programmed personality, they are nevertheless an encumbrance to this process. We can't proceed with him in the corner playing out the sulking program commands."
I sighed. "Fine. I'll try not to hurt the bot's artificial feelings. But if he'd listen to me, it would go a lot faster. She's getting more than a little tired of it."
He shrugged his shoulder. "If I had to guess, I'd say she's no more tired of it than your parents are." It felt somehow like a low blow. Honest, maybe. But a low blow anyway. "At least we have an end to our plans."
I sat back. I had intentionally been avoiding that very question the last three days. I wanted to know, and I didn't. I wanted to ask, but childish fear kept me quiet. "What...what's the plan?"
He was honest. I appreciate that at least. "I don't know. We haven't formulated one."
"Then how can you say she won't be as much your prisoner as my parents are theirs?" There. It was out. I said it. My fear, hers.
He took a long time answering. With most people, that's a bad sign. But Christophe is precise, exact. I knew he didn't want to promise anything, but I also knew he wanted to set my mind at ease. Our minds. "Analysis of the data is needed before we can make a plan. How do we even know if she can survive unassisted in our environment? I, for one, would not allow her to go to Earth if it will kill her. And you can take that on every level I mean. I can assure you, though, that I have no intention to allow her to become our prisoner. She may have constraints out of necessity. But we have finally, finally proven that there is life. Not only life, but life so remarkably similar to ours that it...it...well it boggles the mind. And that should be honored, not imprisoned." He was saying exactly what he felt about Mother and Dad's capture without actually saying it. The Christophe way. In a text, the words were nothing but a promise of a fair and open life for a new resident. In actuality, they screamed of his anger and frustration that the other race involved was not at that level.
It surprised me. Christophe is a man of science at heart. He spent as much free time as possible looking over the data Bradley gathered, giving his own opinions, forming complex hypotheses. He is also a man of practicality. I have no doubt he ran through the scenario for himself and decided what would his own call would have been if the tables were turned. Surely he could see the necessity to keep the potential threat from becoming an actual threat. I had more reason to rail against the course the Qitani took than anyone else, and even I could admit their plan was the best for their people. It was odd to me that Christophe saw it differently.