“It hardly seems worth the effort.”
“I know it doesn’t. At least it doesn’t seem logical that talking about something makes it better. I told Judith, my counselor, that talking about Eddy being dead or Mother being horrible wouldn’t change anything. She didn’t argue with me, just told me to keep talking, she’d been paid for the whole hour. So I did, and somehow I felt better an hour later.”
“That does not sound rational.”
“Neither does crying.”
“Kris, you almost got killed. I almost got blown into little tiny pieces, too small to put back together.”
“We sure did.”
“And the bomb wasn’t even intended for you!”
“You heard about that?”
“I heard everything. I just could not make myself talk to anyone about it. I didn’t want to do anything about it, so I kept my mouth shut, and I didn’t have to do anything.”
“That’s one way of facing a problem.”
“Catatonia, isn’t that what it’s called?”
“Yep.”
“Kris, why are we doing all this?”
“Nelly, what’s the meaning of life?”
“I don’t know. Well, I do. There’s a lot of different philosophical explanations stuffed into my database, but just now, none of them make any real sense to me.”
“Nor to me, Nelly.”
“So, why not stay in bed tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.”
“And wind down our way to dusty death? Aren’t we misquoting somebody?”
“Yes, but it says what I mean. And I guess what you mean.”
“You can wear out or you can rust out.”
“Or you can get blown out. Don’t forget that one, Kris.”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t you rather be doing something rather than nothing? I got another two of my friends married.”
“But no one married you.”
“We brought peace to another planet.”
“And Grampa Ray will have another nasty job for you as soon as you get back.”
“You are in a grumpy mood, Nelly.”
“Yes, I am, and I want to be grumpy for a while.”
“Is grumpy better than catatonic?”
“I guess so. The company’s better. Kris, why did the chicken cross the road?”
“This is a joke, right?”
“Of course.”
“To get to the other side.”
“Yes, Kris, but why? Why cross to the other side?”
“Let me guess. Because there was a Longknife on the side your chicken is crossing away from, and the chicken doesn’t want to get any closer to one of those damn Longknifes.”
“Oh, Kris. Where’s the humor in that?”
“Okay, okay, why did the chicken cross the road? I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Because there was a fox with a fire axe on the other side.”
“And that’s supposed to be funny, huh?”
“It’s as good as any other reason you humans give for the dumb chicken to cross the road.”
“Okay. Now it’s my turn. Why did the fox with the axe cross the road?”
The inane conversation only got worse from there. Kris would later conclude that this was Nelly’s revenge. She couldn’t have a pillow fight, so she had a really bad joke session. It filled their time, and when Kris awoke next morning, she did not remember any bad dreams.
The gang was happy at breakfast to find Nelly back among them. Their celebration lasted nearly two hours.
It ended when Ron dropped by Kris’s Tac Room and tossed a bomb of his own making.
It so happened that, during the long stay at the lodge, the two Iteeche, Ron and Ted, found themselves with no humans to talk to. Ted stumbled upon a small collection of vids and news items hidden away in the bungalow they occupied. Most concerned local Texarkana issues.
But a couple of old newsmagazines were from the time of the breakup of the Society of Humanity. The whole story, unedited and ugly.
Oops, Kris thought as she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep her mouth from hanging open as he talked.
Ron, not being a dumb bunny, quickly figured out how to use the vid in their cabin to wander what passed for a net on Texarkana. With Kris’s staff distracted, the Iteeche had plenty of time to tap into places like Denver’s main library.
By the time Ron dropped his own bomb on Kris and her staff, he and his crew had a very good handle on recent human history and technological development.
“It seems that you live in interesting times,” Ron said as he finished.
“That is an old Earth curse.”
“It is also an old Iteeche curse.”
Kris let the silence hang there for a moment, then decided there was nothing else to do but play her cards faceup . . . even the ones she usually kept up her sleeve. “You can understand why we did not want to show you how divided we are.”
“You fear that we would attack you in this vulnerability?”
“Some of us do.”
“You?”
Kris shook her head. “No. The surest way for the Iteeche to reunite all humanity would be to start up the old war. There are still a lot of people who hate you. Who want to kill Iteeche.”
“And you didn’t trust me to draw the same conclusion.”
“I was not allowed to apply my own judgment. Are you free to do what you want when you speak for your emperor?”
“You know I am not.”
“And you know I can only speak the words my great-grandfather orders me to speak. For you and for me, our freedom lies in talking about things outside of our orders.”
“A very good thought,” Ron said. He turned. “Will you come with me to the forward lounge? I wish to speak with you alone.”
“I could order everyone out of this room.”
He shook his shoulders, all four of them. “This room is too small.”
It was early; the lounge was empty. Kris locked the door, then followed Ron to the forward window, which looked out on the black of space . . . or the tiny lights of distant suns.
What did Kris see this morning, the darkness or the light? More important, what did Ron see?
“I can understand your not wanting us to know how divided you humans are,” Ron said, his back to Kris. “My chooser gave me specific instructions not to let on how divided the Iteeche Empire has become.”
Kris wanted to yelp “divided Iteeche Empire!” but she bit her tongue. Ron was talking. Better to let him tell it his way. If he didn’t, she was pretty sure she couldn’t get what she wanted out of him.
“I now realize how wrong my chooser was in his own assumptions.” Ron turned to Kris, took her hands in two of his, and went on. “If Ray of the Long-Reaching Knife decides to join with us, he will not bring all of humanity with him. His alliance of one hundred and thirty planets is fragile. Half of them could splinter off from him over us. Am I not right?”
Kris nodded. “If we don’t handle this challenge just right, humanity could go to war with itself.”
“Just as we Iteeche could go to war with ourselves,” Ron said, dropping Kris’s hands and beginning to pace in a circle around the lounge.
“In the very first year in the Palace of Learning, we tell the still-stumbling Iteeche how Brave Harka, the Bold, the Gatherer, the Victorious, demanded double the levee from the Satraps. You must understand, Kris, three out of every four soldiers, warships, supplies are reserved for the defense of the Satrap. Only one out of four may be demanded by the Emperor.
“But that was not enough for Harka the Bold. He demanded and gathered in a double levee after word came of our defeat in Gor’zon. No matter who these strangers who walked on only two feet were, they had to be taught a lesson not to trifle with the Empire.”
“So that is how the third phase of the Iteeche War got started,” Kris said.