"Nothing, uh-could we change the subject?" There was a hard burning sensation growing in my chest.
"No, we cannot change the subject. I'm your commanding officer. I might also be carrying your baby. You and I made some promises to each other last night. No more bullshit."
I couldn't look at her. My eyes were watering. I lowered my gaze to the floor and tried to wipe them surreptitiously. She reached over with one soft hand and tilted my face upward again. "What is it?"
I shook my head, but I still managed to get the words out. "I can't-I can't order anybody else to their deaths. I never had to do it before. I won't do it again."
"I see." After a moment, Lizard got up and walked to the window. She stood there staring out of it, watching the land pass by below. I studied my boots. They needed a shine. When I looked up, she was still gazing out the window, but she was wiping at her eyes too.
"What's the matter?" I said.
Her voice was quiet, but strained. "I don't want to give you the speech," she whispered. It was obviously hard for her to speak. She turned and looked back at me. Her eyes were starting to redden. She put her hand up against her cheek so the heel of her palm almost covered her mouth. She shook her head, almost in helplessness. "It isn't fair. It's nasty and it's manipulative, and I'm sure you've already heard it a million times. Oh, hell." She came back and sat down opposite me again.
"It's part of the job of command," she began slowly, "to make those kinds of decisions. It's a terrible burden, and if you didn't feel every death as a personal blow, you couldn't be trusted with the responsibility-"
I opened my mouth to object. "That sentiment is putrid. It guarantees you'll have nothing but crazy commanders. No, find some single-minded psychopath who doesn't feel the pain and point him at the enemy. He'll be a much better hero than I could ever be."
"Shut up, sweetheart. Listen to me." She laid a fingertip across my lips. "I've never had to order anyone to their deaths. Not like that. I've never had to sacrifice some of my troops to protect the rest. I hope to God I never have to. It's the worst kind of command decision an officer ever has to make.
"I-I saw the pictures of your mission. Your rescue-I watched it live. I was so mad at you, but I watched it anyway. No, don't ask how we tapped into the feed; there's still a lot that you don't know. Anyway-" She took a breath and tried again. "When the shambler tenants went off, part of me was hoping that you'd be killed-because then that way, at least, there would be finality. I could stop worrying about you. And at the same time, the rest of me was praying to God that you'd survive so that I could wring your neck for being so goddamn stupid as to go out there in the first place. And when those three soldiers were killed, I didn't care. Not in my heart of hearts, I honestly didn't care, because I was so glad that you were all right. I told myself it was a small enough price to pay. That's when I knew how much I wanted you back.
"And when I yelled at you-I tried to tell myself that I was mad at you for walking out on me, for being stubborn and pigheaded, for not reopening the channel, and most of all, for losing those lives-but I wasn't. I was mad at you for risking yours. Anger is a good cover, but it isn't always the truth. I was yelling at me too, for being so stupid as to want you so badly that I would willingly except the sacrifice of three other human beings in exchange for you. And then I felt even worse for feeling that way, and for a while I thought I had to get you out of my life any way I could hecause we couldn't possibly be good for each other, and then I didn't know what I felt. But even while I wanted to kill you, I still felt bad for you because I knew how awful you must be feeling-"
"You couldn't know what I was feeling. If you've never had to give that kind of order-"
"I know," she admitted. "I know. You're right about that. But now it's your turn to listen to me, sweetheart. You wouldn't have been trusted with the responsibility of those lives, except that somebody above you, some officer, thought that you were able to handle it. I'm that somebody. I'm the officer who authorized it. Every time you went out, I stood behind you. I still do. So it was my order too. I share the responsibility."
I didn't know what to say to that. I looked away from her for a moment. Was she trying to make me feel better? Of course she was. But was she telling the truth? God! Why did I doubt everything that anybody said to me? I had to believe her. If our relationship meant anything at all
Besides, I wanted to believe her. I took a deep breath. It still hurt. "I don't think you can forgive me, Lizard. Because I can't forgive myself."
"There's nothing to forgive. You did your job."
"I'm not suited for this job."
"That's where you're wrong."
"Huh?" There was something about the way she'd said it. I looked up sharply.
She nodded. "You need to know this. Your aptitudes and abilities are constantly being monitored and analyzed. That's so the military can know how best to place you."
"Well, sure-everybody knows about the Personnel Placement Policy. There's a lot of LI processing involved in it. But I never put much faith in it. After all, look where they put Dannenfelser."
She made a face. "Believe it or not, Dannenfelser is exactly what General Wainright needs. No, listen to me. The process is much more sophisticated and thorough than you suspect. It's not just a question of matching skills to tasks. It's also a matter of matching emotional suitability as well. If someone can't handle stress, you surround him with people who can-he's protected, so is the job. Here's why I upped your clearance. You are what the psych section calls an 'alpha personality.' That means that you're able to handle large responsibilities. You're not afraid to make difficult decisions. Yes, you agonize about them-but you do it afterward. That's your way of double-checking yourself that you made the right decision at the time.
"That's why you keep getting promotions. You produce results. And that's why you keep getting sent into impossible situations. Because you discover things that other people don't. There aren't a lot of people in the world who can do what you do. You walk into dangerous places, you look around, and you come out again and report not just what you saw, but what you noticed. You're a natural synthesist-you learn, you theorize, you teach, you make a difference. And that's why you can be forgiven the deaths of those three soldiers. That was their job-to protect you and whatever it is you realized by being there."
I considered her words. I'd always known that I was good at what I did. I'd never realized that anybody else had noticed, or even cared. I got up and crossed to the window. It was my turn to look out at the dark green roof of the forest below. Amapa was already visible on the horizon, a splash of white carved into the distant hills. We'd be docking in less than an hour.
I took a breath. What I was about to say would not be easy. "If what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt you, then I can't do the job anymore, Lizard. Because that would mean other people are going to have to risk their lives to protect me in the future. I can't have any more deaths on my conscience. Three is already too many. Of all the deaths I've ever caused, I don't know why, but these three are the worst."
She followed me to the window and put her arms around me from behind. She hugged me gently, then released me and began gently massaging my shoulders. She did that when she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. I didn't object, I liked the attention, but I also knew that she was monitoring my mental state by the tension in my shoulders and neck.
"Turn around," she said. I did so.
She took my hand and placed it on her belly. "Feel that," she commanded.
"Feels good," I said. I slid my hand lower.
She moved my hand back up to her belly. "Don't start. At least not until I finish saying what I have to. I might be pregnant, Jim. I hope I am. And if I am, then we're going to be responsible for bringing a new life into the world and raising it to be the best kind of person we can. But what happens if Dr. Meier tells us that this child is damaged or defective somehow? What if amniocentesis shows that it's a Down's syndrome baby or-I don't know. But what if it's not perfect?"