One Fell Sweep
Page 80
We were in the middle of the yard, far enough from the house.
Gertrude Hunt leaned against my barrier. The seed stirred. Weak, hesitant tendrils of its magic slipped out, seeking the connection.
I’m here. Don’t be frightened.
The seed touched my magic and calmed. Just like a baby with a lullaby.
“The Hiru are an abomination,” Mrak said from the screen. “They are revolting. They are everything that is wrong with life. Life is beautiful, like this girl in front of you. Like the seed she carries. The Hiru must die.”
“Do you actually believe that?”
“It is enough that my people believe it.”
“You’ve destroyed their planet,” I said. “There are only a handful of them left, those who were out in space away from their home world. They are not fighting you. They just want to live in peace.”
“So does my mother,” Mrak said. “She wants to die in peace, knowing that she and all of her clansmen will find paradise.”
“Where did you even get it?” I asked. “The seeds are very rare.”
“I have connections.”
“Was the dark creature that stalked me at Baha-char also yours?”
He took a fraction of a second to answer. “Yes.”
He lied. He hadn’t known about it. I saw the surprise in his eyes.
“Did your connection become proactive and send it to chase me?”
“As I said, the creature was mine.”
“That creature is a living darkness. It is death and corruption. Whoever made it has dark designs and they won’t let you live.”
“You’re a remarkable creature,” Mrak said. “Here I am, offering you that which you hold most dear, and you’re trying to get information out of me. You would make such an interesting pet.”
“In your dreams.”
He leaned on his elbow. “What would you let me do to you for the sake of this seed?”
And this conversation went sideways.
“You don’t have to answer. You would do anything. You would debase yourself, but you don’t have to. Give me the Hiru.”
“There is something wrong with you,” I said.
“The time for insults has passed.”
“I don’t mean it as an insult. There is truly something deeply wrong with you. How is it that you never learned to be a person?”
He stared at me. “I am a person.”
“You flew across countless light-years to a neutral, peaceful planet to kill two creatures that haven’t harmed you in any way. For that purpose, you threw away dozens of your people, and now you sit here and make nasty comments about torturing me as if it somehow fixes everything and makes you victorious. What kind of a person does that?”
He looked taken aback.
“Staying here isn’t going to bring your dead to life. Killing defenseless beings who just want to be left alone won’t win you any absolution. Think about it. What kind of religion mandates that? Why would anyone want to be part of it?”
“Give me the Hiru.”
“Your mother is dying and that’s tragic. But all things die. If you had a choice to save a child or an elderly person, you would save the child, wouldn’t you? Children are the future. They are what carries us forward as people. You’re throwing away your young fighters. Look at this girl you sent in here. She’s terrified. You’re the head of her clan. She trusts you and obeys you. Shouldn’t she get something in return?”
“She knows her duty,” he said.
“Let’s say you kill the Hiru. Where would that leave you? You still will have lost the future of your clan. It will be generations before Flock Wraith will recover. It’s your responsibility as a leader to keep your people safe and take care of them so they can prosper.”
Doubt crept into his eyes. “What’s a few short years in this world compared with an eternity in paradise?”
“You don’t believe that. If you believed in paradise, you wouldn’t have killed an onizeri. What if there is no paradise, Kiran? What if it’s a lie?”
He knew. I saw it in his face. He knew their paradise was a lie, but he had come too far. “You are a heretic,” he said, his voice calm. “An unbeliever.”
I lost him. For a tiny moment, I got through, but now I lost him. “So are you. Why don’t you just leave? Leave and live your life the way you want to. You’re free to make your own choices.”
“No,” he said. “Freedom is an illusion. We are bound by restraints on every turn. Family, clan, religion, morals, duties; all those are restraints. For someone on the crossroads of worlds, you’re naive.”
“If you can’t have your freedom, then what’s the point of all this?”
“Give me the Hiru. Nobody has to know. We can do this in a way that leaves you blameless. I promise their deaths will be swift and painless.”
I wanted the seed. It called to me. I’d been playing for time, but I thought of nothing. No brilliant plans. No elaborate ruses. I felt so helpless.
“There is nothing to think about, innkeeper,” Mrak’s voice floated from the screen, soft, seductive. “The seed for two lives which are lost anyway. They have no planet. Their technology is dying. They can barely keep themselves alive. Death is a mercy. Make your decision.”
“Please give him what he wants,” the Draziri girl whispered. “Please.”
Gertrude Hunt leaned against my barrier. The seed stirred. Weak, hesitant tendrils of its magic slipped out, seeking the connection.
I’m here. Don’t be frightened.
The seed touched my magic and calmed. Just like a baby with a lullaby.
“The Hiru are an abomination,” Mrak said from the screen. “They are revolting. They are everything that is wrong with life. Life is beautiful, like this girl in front of you. Like the seed she carries. The Hiru must die.”
“Do you actually believe that?”
“It is enough that my people believe it.”
“You’ve destroyed their planet,” I said. “There are only a handful of them left, those who were out in space away from their home world. They are not fighting you. They just want to live in peace.”
“So does my mother,” Mrak said. “She wants to die in peace, knowing that she and all of her clansmen will find paradise.”
“Where did you even get it?” I asked. “The seeds are very rare.”
“I have connections.”
“Was the dark creature that stalked me at Baha-char also yours?”
He took a fraction of a second to answer. “Yes.”
He lied. He hadn’t known about it. I saw the surprise in his eyes.
“Did your connection become proactive and send it to chase me?”
“As I said, the creature was mine.”
“That creature is a living darkness. It is death and corruption. Whoever made it has dark designs and they won’t let you live.”
“You’re a remarkable creature,” Mrak said. “Here I am, offering you that which you hold most dear, and you’re trying to get information out of me. You would make such an interesting pet.”
“In your dreams.”
He leaned on his elbow. “What would you let me do to you for the sake of this seed?”
And this conversation went sideways.
“You don’t have to answer. You would do anything. You would debase yourself, but you don’t have to. Give me the Hiru.”
“There is something wrong with you,” I said.
“The time for insults has passed.”
“I don’t mean it as an insult. There is truly something deeply wrong with you. How is it that you never learned to be a person?”
He stared at me. “I am a person.”
“You flew across countless light-years to a neutral, peaceful planet to kill two creatures that haven’t harmed you in any way. For that purpose, you threw away dozens of your people, and now you sit here and make nasty comments about torturing me as if it somehow fixes everything and makes you victorious. What kind of a person does that?”
He looked taken aback.
“Staying here isn’t going to bring your dead to life. Killing defenseless beings who just want to be left alone won’t win you any absolution. Think about it. What kind of religion mandates that? Why would anyone want to be part of it?”
“Give me the Hiru.”
“Your mother is dying and that’s tragic. But all things die. If you had a choice to save a child or an elderly person, you would save the child, wouldn’t you? Children are the future. They are what carries us forward as people. You’re throwing away your young fighters. Look at this girl you sent in here. She’s terrified. You’re the head of her clan. She trusts you and obeys you. Shouldn’t she get something in return?”
“She knows her duty,” he said.
“Let’s say you kill the Hiru. Where would that leave you? You still will have lost the future of your clan. It will be generations before Flock Wraith will recover. It’s your responsibility as a leader to keep your people safe and take care of them so they can prosper.”
Doubt crept into his eyes. “What’s a few short years in this world compared with an eternity in paradise?”
“You don’t believe that. If you believed in paradise, you wouldn’t have killed an onizeri. What if there is no paradise, Kiran? What if it’s a lie?”
He knew. I saw it in his face. He knew their paradise was a lie, but he had come too far. “You are a heretic,” he said, his voice calm. “An unbeliever.”
I lost him. For a tiny moment, I got through, but now I lost him. “So are you. Why don’t you just leave? Leave and live your life the way you want to. You’re free to make your own choices.”
“No,” he said. “Freedom is an illusion. We are bound by restraints on every turn. Family, clan, religion, morals, duties; all those are restraints. For someone on the crossroads of worlds, you’re naive.”
“If you can’t have your freedom, then what’s the point of all this?”
“Give me the Hiru. Nobody has to know. We can do this in a way that leaves you blameless. I promise their deaths will be swift and painless.”
I wanted the seed. It called to me. I’d been playing for time, but I thought of nothing. No brilliant plans. No elaborate ruses. I felt so helpless.
“There is nothing to think about, innkeeper,” Mrak’s voice floated from the screen, soft, seductive. “The seed for two lives which are lost anyway. They have no planet. Their technology is dying. They can barely keep themselves alive. Death is a mercy. Make your decision.”
“Please give him what he wants,” the Draziri girl whispered. “Please.”
