“Yes, Admiral, they are quite excellent. But I’m afraid you are dead wrong about him becoming interested in his mission. Or rather, yes, he’s interested now-but not for the reasons you think.”
“Oh?”
“Admiral, Hap intends to betray us. At the very first opportunity he has to do so.”
“What? You mean this is all a conceit?”
Pyragy seemed ready to rub the admiral’s arm soothingly. “Dr. Navarre is exaggerating, at best, or prevaricating, at worst. She is just trying to diminish the new opportunities which have arisen from the unfortunate incident involving the female-”
“No, I’m quite serious. And I know my subject: Hap means to betray us.”
In the nine years she had known him, this was the first time Admiral Coelho-Chase had ever sputtered. “This is outrageous, if it’s true. After we’ve cared for him all these years-why, if he wasn’t a kzin, it would be treason, pure and simple.”
“But,” Selena explained levelly, “he is a kzin and therefore it is not treason. In fact, it is probably not as much a political action as it a developmental action.”
“What?”
“Admiral, look at his age. At this point in his growth phase, it is entirely natural for kzinti, like humans, to buck authority. Buck it hard. In the case of young kzinti, this takes the shape of suiting their actions to their words: when they start to talk the talk, they expect that they will be called upon to walk the walk. It is a phase of high aggression and a need to distinguish themselves from their parental and mentor figures by pursuing opposed paths, by separation, and frequently, by turning upon those who supported them.”
“And that’s natural?”
“Yes, just like rebelliousness in a teenager.”
“But he is almost full-grown and is now, according to you, determined to work as a confidential agent for the natural kzinti.”
Pyragy squared his shoulders dramatically. “Then, if this is true, we must euthanize him. Immediately.”
Selena surprised herself with the speed and vociferousness of her rebuttal. “Why? Because he won’t join hands and sing kumbayah with us? Damn it, he has to go through this if he’s to become an adult. Our own human children do. Or did, until lotus-eating idealists neutered them. But at least that’s over with.”
Pyragy’s upper lip contracted as though he had caught a whiff of dung. “Yes. The Golden Age of Peace is indeed behind us, and we have allowed our children to be raised with the knowledge of war and violence. With terrible results.”
“If speciate survival is a terrible result, then I guess you’re right, Director Pyragy. But this new generation has-thank god-the gumption and aggressiveness that comes from having a few fistfights growing up, and trying cases with their parents.”
“Yes,” Pyragy retorted, “and in all probability, by the time those children are as old as I am, they will no longer need to fight the kzinti, because they will have become as kzinti, themselves.” Pyragy looked as though he might spit. “It is horrific, barbaric.”
“A lot of real-life situations are, Director-horrific and barbaric. And having some familiarity with those realities is necessary if you’re going to have a reasonable chance of surviving a serious encounter with any of them. That’s part of the advantage of having kids, human or kzin, grow up in contention with their own parents, as well as their peers. It teaches kids not only about the limits of change, but also about conflict itself. They learn when it’s appropriate and when it’s not. Which battles to fight, which to avoid, which warrant biding one’s time. And every scrap of evidence we have says that the kzinti need that experience more than humans, much more. So before we declare Hap an irreclaimable turncoat, let’s remember this: we’re all he’s got, which means we’re his only scratching post. So, of course, he’s going to go through this phase. And a valid point of contention like this one-to whom he owes his first loyalties-is a natural lightning rod for those impulses and emotions.”
Associate Executive Chair Dennehy was studying Selena closely, as if he were making several decisions at once. “And what if this isn’t just a teenage phase, Dr. Navarre? After all, Hap has more reason to rebel against authority than any teen ever born.”
Selena nodded soberly. “Now that’s truth, plain and simple, Executive Dennehy. And yes, in turning away from us now, he could be starting down a path that ultimately makes him our permanent, sworn enemy. It might be that he never turns back toward us the way most human kids do when they overcome the tempests of their social and hormonal storm season that we call adolescence. And that’s too bad.
“But it was always a risk, one we knew and articulated right at the outset of this project. And after all, he’s right to feel the way he does. He’s been brought up to be a traitor to his own people, insofar as he is a creature of our making and interests. So we can only hope that, when his wisdom catches up with his intelligence, he will also realize that we were as honest as we could be throughout, eschewed the tactics of coercion, and have always worked not just for own best interests, but for his, and his people’s, as well.”
Pyragy snorted. “You give him entirely too much credit. He will not stop to think about these things. This is why he had to be civilized-fully and effectively civilized-first: by remaining a creature driven by his primal drives rather than thought, he will remain insensate to these higher appeals.”
“Then, Director Pyragy, you should be glad that he is turning away from us, here and now. Because if he’s not smart enough on his own to reflect upon his upbringing in the years to come, then he’s not the right person for the job of being our voice to the kzinti. A person incapable of autonomous reflection or insight would be disastrous to our diplomatic efforts, whatever their end.”
Pyragy grumbled but said nothing loud enough for anyone to hear.
Dennehy was nodding, though. “Dr. Navarre, however else these events might play out, I think you’re absolutely right about one thing: we can’t make a being what he is not. If a kzin, or at least this kzin, is capable-as you posit-of one day seeing our actions in perspective, then this is just a bump in the road, and possibly a necessary one. But if he is not, then you’re right again: he never would have been any good to us as a liaison.”
Selena nodded. “So does this mean that we can start giving Hap increased access to news, to libraries, to-?”
Dennehy nodded back. “Show him our world, Dr. Navarre. Starting today.”
2406 BCE: Subject age-ten years
Selena twisted the strand of silver-grey hair around her finger again and again and again.
“What is that?” Hap’s voice was throaty and deep.
“This? Oh, nothing. This is nothing.”
“You don’t toy obsessively with nothings, Selena.” He sniffed speculatively. “It’s a lock of Dieter’s hair, isn’t it?”
She felt a hot blush rise high on her cheeks, looked away: schoolgirl-stupid, that’s what I am.
Hap’s fur pulsed once, slowly. “Don’t be ashamed. I wish they still allowed Dieter to come in to see me. I miss him, too. A lot.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because Dieter had true strakh, honor.”
“There was a time you couldn’t abide the sight or smell of him.”
Hap swung his head slightly from side to side; an instinctual gesture, not learned, that was the kzin equivalent of a shrug. “It wasn’t as straightforward as that, Selena. I just didn’t know how to deal with what he had done.”
“And now you do?”
Hap’s eyes partially narrowed in easy acquiescence. “Yes. He was a warrior, doing a warrior’s work. But when I was no longer part of his warrior work, he became a friend. He watched over me, even when your rules said he wasn’t supposed to.” And Selena could feel, or at least imagined, the unuttered rebuke: which was more than you ever did for me. Which was, sadly, bitterly, true.