Martin began to understand why war and conflict had played a much smaller role in the Brothers’ history. Braids were not robust; their existence as intelligent beings was delicately balanced, and violence quickly reduced them to an animal level. Wars fought between cords could not last long.
So why did the Benefactors send them in the first place?
Because everybody deserves a chance at justice, no matter how slim the chance might be.
“We we congratulate you on survival,” Eye on Sky said.
“We’re sorry to see you leave,” Martin said. He touched Eye on Sky’s broad trunk. The Brother shivered but did not shrink back.
“I’m very sorry,” Paola said.
“You can join us,” Strong Cord said.
“I won’t,” Martin said.
“I haven’t decided,” Paola said.
“You, Paola Birdsong, would be very welcome,” Eye on Sky said. “You as well, Martin.”
“Thank you,” Martin said.
“The destruction is frightening,” Eye on Sky said. “Simply thinking of it risks disassembly. We hold such power now.”
“If the moms let us keep it,” Martin said.
“Will they?”
“I hope not.”
“Where will humans go now?”
“We’ll survey the system. See what evidence we can find.
The ships will scoop up fuel. Then… we’ll explore. Find a planet we can live on.”
“You will not return to your world, to Mars?”
“I don’t think so. We’ll vote on it, but by the time we get back, almost a thousand years will have passed. Nobody we know will be alive… At least, I don’t think they will.”
“Other humans have come to visit we us,” Eye on Sky said. “Have expressed regret. Perhaps more will come with Shrike than go with Greyhound.”
Martin didn’t think, when it came right down to it, that anybody would accompany the Brothers. The mood had changed since the war.
“How many humans can you stand?” Martin asked with a faint grin.
“It is a problem,” Green Cord said. Eye on Sky slapped his flanks with tip of tail—something Martin had never seen a Brother do to another. Green Cord expelled a faint odor of turpentine, then baking bread. Upset, propitiation.
“Martin, your presence would be good, as well,” Eye on Sky said. “I we think of this, and to have you with we all us, that would not cause pain or upset, but linking and harmony.”
Martin shook his head. “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t think I’ll go with you.”
Eye on Sky smelled of licorice and salt air.
“Polite disappointment,” Paola murmured.
“Thank you for asking,” Martin told Eye on Sky.
It was a dangerous time, but Martin could no longer be circumspect. He had survived too much, seen too much, to let certain small things go by.
On the bridge, Hans ate his meal with measured motions, ignoring Martin. Martin crossed his legs and folded his arms, watching Hans toss bits of cake to his mouth and grab them. When he finished, Hans wiped his hands on a towel stuck in a field, pushed himself around with one hand, and faced Martin squarely.
“Well?”
“I’m asking for an investigation,” Martin said.
“Of what?”
“Rosa’s death.”
Hans shook his head. “We know who did it.”
“I don’t think that’s enough.”
“Martin, we’ve done the Job. We’ll finish here and go find someplace to live. That has to be enough.”
Martin’s face flushed. He felt as he had when confronting the moms. “No,” he said. “We need to clear the air.”
“Rex is dead.”
“Rex left a message,” Martin said.
“It’s guilt-crazed shit.”
“The crew… needs to know, one way or the other.”
“You want to be Pan again?” Hans asked, deceptively calm. Martin could read the signs: neck muscles tight, one hand opening and closing slowly, grasping nothing.
“No,” Martin said.
“Who should be Pan?”
“That isn’t my point.”
“If you believe I had something to do with Rosa’s death, then I should be… what? What penalty do you suggest?”
“Did you put Rex up to it?” Martin asked.
“Whoa. Shooting pointblank, Marty. What makes you think I did?”
“Did you?”
Hans kept his eyes focused firmly on Martin’s, said, “No, I did not put Rex up to it. I don’t know what was going on in his head. He was confused. Rosa took him in—made him a part of her group. That was her mistake, not mine.”
“You didn’t tell Rex to attack the Brother?”
“Christ, no. What good would that have done me?”
Martin blinked. Got to keep it up. Can’t give up now.
“You saw Rosa as a real threat, somebody who could divert the whole mission.”
“Yes. Didn’t you?”
“You saw yourself as the only one capable of finishing the mission.”
Hans spread his arms, stretching. “Okay. Not too far wrong.”
“Rex was your friend. He was devoted to you.”
“Bolsh. Rex was his own man.”
“You wanted to make it look that way. You ordered him to attack the Brother, take the blame, isolate himself. He agreed.”
“So now I’m some sort of hypnotist. Why would I isolate him? You think Rex wasn’t smart enough to see through such a crazy scheme? He’d know why I wanted him isolated. He was no idiot. He’d know it would be so I could jump clear if he was caught. That’s just plain crazy. Rex was not crazy.”
“Devoted,” Martin suggested.
“I don’t know about that.”
“There’s sufficient question to make an investigation necessary,” Martin said.
Hans wagged his head back and forth, eyes wide, silently mimicking him. “ ‘Sufficient question.’ ‘Investigation necessary.’ Christ, you’re an intellectual giant. Do you think the crew would have followed you into something like Leviathan? We were pissing in our pants, Marty.”
Martin could feel the nastiness building. “Will you agree to an investigation?”
“Is this revenge for my not telling you when we’d attack?”
“No,” Martin said.
“I think it is. You know why I did it that way. You were in the middle of things. There could have been little ears everywhere. Did you think I would drop all our plans right in their laps?”
“This is beside the point, Hans, and you know it.”
“Sure,” Hans said, lifting his hands. “Anything for you.” He leaned forward, one hand pushing on a field, the other pulling, and released his grip to jab a finger at Martin. “They wouldn’t have followed you, Martin, because you get people killed. You’re a regular goddamn McClellan—did you read about him, Martin? American Civil War. Made an army but refused to really go out and fight. Your instincts are bad. You think leadership is a game with justice and rules. It isn’t. Leadership is getting the most people through a hell of a time, and doing the slicking Job!”
He called up images of Leviathan’s ruined worlds until they filled his quarters like hanging sheets. “My parents didn’t make it onto the Ark. Nobody I knew made it. They were all blown to atoms. Everybody I knew!
“The Killers had thousands of years. They sent out their clever machines, then they sat back. They built their pretty castles and made their pretty creatures, they laid their traps. They defended themselves to the max because they were afraid, they were guilty, they knew we’d come for them, and someday we’d get them. How many like us failed? We didn’t fail!”