I perched outside the paw-cat enclosure, missing Marti. Missing Induan. They would both be alive if it weren’t for me. Induan would still be on Silver’s Home, or maybe somewhere else in this war, doing logistics. That was her skill—planning and making things happen. That was why I had brought her to Lopali—a planner to balance a risk-taker.
I had never expected to love her.
The cat must be near the back. There was no movement except for a desultory swinging of some kind of long, yellow leaves near a fan. What an oddness to have found something I loved from the planet I had hated way out here among the stars.
If I hadn’t begged for wings, neither Marti nor Tsawo would be here. Marti would be alive, flying joyfully beside Amalo. Whether or not I had actually murdered her with a bad shot, I might as well have just shot her in cold blood.
This wasn’t good thinking. I knew it wasn’t, nor was it like me. Surely I would get over it soon.
The warm weight of a hand on my shoulder surprised me. The bangles on her wrists identified Jagruti.
“Sit.” I gestured at one of the human chairs and sighed. “I could use some keeping.”
She sat. “It’s not your fault.”
“How do you know what I was thinking?”
“Regret is written all over your face. So what else can you be thinking? You did not send robots to kill you all.”
“I might have killed her. If I missed the robot.”
She smiled. “All of you could have died. We’re lucky we have you two.”
“Do you know where Tsawo is?”
“Closeted with Cy. They’re trying to decide our next move. The fight isn’t past us yet, but we don’t have a parent ship left. Tsawo still has some idea that he should be greeted like a power of some kind.”
I sat back, staring vacantly at the paw-cat pen. Something moved near the back, dark, hard to see. Squinting, I made out two shapes. The big cat and Romi, walking side by side. The cat’s haunches came almost to Romi’s shoulders. It could turn and rip his throat out in one fast, fluid move.
He didn’t seem worried. He patted the cat on the shoulder, which should have cost him a hand. The cat almost looked sad to see him slide through the gate and out of the pen. It could have been pathetic, except it wasn’t. The cat didn’t appear to be at all afraid of Romi, nor did it appear in any way domesticated.
If the most awesome predator I had ever met could be caged and yet respected, what did that mean for fliers? What, for that matter, did it mean for paw-cats?
Romi, who hardly looked like a man capable of gentling anything big and scary, walked quickly over to us. “I just spoke to Cy. He got a message from Joseph, who suggested we go to a ship called the Peacemaker.”
We had to go somewhere. At least that ship was aptly named. And Joseph was alive!
Romi stepped back a pace, making room for us to stand up easily. “Cy and Tsawo want us to join them.”
Tsawo and I spent the half hour before we started to burn for the Peacemaker in a conference room with Cy, staring at screens that showed what we knew about the trajectories and patterns of the slow-motion battle. The Lily Star had decent enough computers to create a historical re-enactment of the roughly week-old battle from the point the fleets came close enough to each other to matter.
It looked choreographed. “Why are the Islans fighting this way?” I asked. “Why so orderly?”
“Large starships don’t turn quickly,” Cy said. “And every starship in the system is required by law to broadcast its location. The fight couldn’t happen near any of the five planets. This location was negotiated to allow for time—so the fleets had to gather and get here. That was mostly an advantage for Silver’s Home, and what the Port Authority bargained for.”
“That seems so stupid,” I blurted out. “Why have so many rules?”
Cy ignored me. “The Islans wanted a frontal assault battle, since they saw themselves as better able to coordinate. The place and the rules of engagement were decided politically.”
Without including fliers in the discussion, or as far as I knew, anyone from Lopali.
Tsawo raised his drinking bulb, full now of a medicinal tea Romi had promised would help us survive the day we’d spend in bubble crash couches. Lily Star was only designed for fliers to a point, but when Jagruti and Tsawo had fled here from the Sky Anvil, they’d brought the transport ship we’d used the first time we’d come here. That could keep us reasonably comfortable during acceleration. “So,” Tsawo asked, “this battle is like a cage match in a way? Everyone needs to behave, and follow the rules, and the biggest guns win?”
“The smallest guns, I think. Both teams thought their fleets of small ships and drones and the like would win the war. That’s what almost killed you two.”
The chair was uncomfortable, so I stood, hunching over slightly to keep my wingtips from trailing on the ground. Why hadn’t the damned Wingmakers figured out how to design us so we could just sit like normal humans?
Cy swiveled so he faced us both. “Each side planned to overwhelm the other with unexpected feints within the rules, and with sheer volume. The Islans expected their centralized communication would help them win. Up until a few hours ago, I thought the Islans were right. I figured we were on a suicide mission. Even more so after we lost the Sun’s Orbit and the Anvil. I was planning a ‘party before we die’ event.” He looked completely serious. “Because up until a few minutes ago, we were going to die out here.”
I’d rather run us into an Islan ship and kill it than have a good party and wait to be shot out of the sky. A warrior who would give up on survival when the odds were against him bothered me.
As if he knew what I was thinking, Cy said, “There were three Islan ships bearing down on us. Three. They would have been here about two hours from now.”
“How were you going to party?” Tsawo whispered.
“By loading up all the ammunition we could and picking a target.”
That made me feel better.
“But all the targets just stopped heading for us.” Tsawo stared at the simulation, which was slightly less than a day away from our current time.
Cy pointed. “See that? See the two ships headed toward the Maker’s Thorn where Joseph is?”
I blinked.
Cy stood and touched the glowing images, making sure.
“Yes.” I sipped my own drink. It tasted like something Paloma might have fed us, bitter and sweet both, but good for me.
“Watch that ship. See? It flies right past. It could have taken out the Thorn. Now watch these two.”
I pursed my lips. They also flew through the small group of ships that included the Thorn without firing.
Cy stood up, speaking in an exaggerated tone. “Not only did they fly past the Thorn without firing, but it did not fire at them. Neither did the Unicorn, one of the other ships in the same battle group. The other two fired, but only one of them even hit any of the Islan ships.” Cy looked triumphant, like he was showing us a miracle. “And … watch for it … as those three Islan ships continue through the fleet they don’t fire at anything, even once. See here”—he pointed—“they’re changing direction to avoid any other possible battles. If it was one ship, I’d say they lost a major system or something, just couldn’t fire. But it’s not. All three of them acted the same way.” He leaned toward us and grinned. “Watch the last three hours closely.”
I stared as a few Islan ships seemed to bend toward the Maker’s Thorn. Then more. Then more.
None of them fired.
Joseph had done something like it on Fremont, but with one ship. One. A little one at that, a ship that would have fit inside the Lily Star. Which had fit inside the Sun’s Orbit.
Suddenly, I desperately wanted to see him.
“Whoever, whatever,” Cy smiled at us and put both of his hands on the table. “I think the battle is almost over.”
He was so sure of himself a cold dread filled my chest. Joseph was fragile, far more fragile than most people thought. I knew that—I had been able to hurt him easily. Marcus’s disapproval had almost frozen him more than once. Out here, at least one fleet would be fighting every move he made, and more likely, they’d both be fighting him. Hell, every ship out here might be fighting him. “I know Joseph. He gets scared, he gets angry, he feels uncertain. Any of those things could undo him. He’s as human as the rest of us.”
Cy burst out laughing, and it took me a moment to realize that I had said that, and I was no longer considered human, and that was why we were here. I laughed, too, but inside it coiled anger.
Tsawo looked as bitter as I felt. Cy had the same prejudices as everyone else. Why wouldn’t he? Maybe this wasn’t the moment for this battle, but damnit, I wasn’t going to be still. Not now, not ever. I stood as straight as I could with my wings, which meant opening them a little even in the small space. “We are people. Both of us. Tsawo started as a flier, but he was a person then, and he is a person now. My wings are new, and I will tell you that I did not become less when I earned them. I became more.” I leaned toward Cy. “This is reality. This is what is true. And this is what we will prove to all of you.”
He leaned back, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
Tsawo held his hands up as well, toward me, a gentling gesture.
What?! My voice rose in astonished response. “And you! You believe it. That you are less. You …” My voice shook, now, the anger rattling all the way through my wings, unexpected, unwelcome, but righteous. It spread, beyond Tsawo, engulfing those who’d made us. “All the years of being told you are less have stuck to you. That is what you have heard since you were an infant. That you are both more—because you suffer—and less, because you are not fully human and have the rights of an object.”
He stared at me in disbelief; whether at my anger or my words, I couldn't tell.
“You fight it. You have always fought it. You have tried to protect us all, and also yourself from the truth. You are as human as any other fighter out here. You are not less. And neither am I. It’s time to stand up for who we are.”
Disbelief turned to surprise. “Now?”
“No? When? We are about to go represent our race on the Peacemaker. Joseph is creating that for us.” I knew it, beyond all question or doubt. The puzzle of all of us, of how we had been designed, and of our experiences, snapped together in my head. It was what Chelo had taught us, what Marcus had taught us, even what Tsawo had taught us. Joseph did the bidding of his sister, our greatest pacifist, and he was sending us to a place he had sworn we could go. I knew, knew deeply, how he was trying to end this war. He was breaking every one of its rules.
He had become something glorious and inhuman, something greater than himself. I could feel him at the edges of my consciousness, as if something in what I had become let me connect with him in ways I never had. If I wanted to help, I had to become bigger than I had ever been. He needed me. I had always needed him, but right now, he needed me.
More, we needed each other.
I stared at Tsawo.
He stepped back.
The next words I spoke came from the depths of my soul. “You will be my protector, and you will have my back. But I will represent us on the Peacekeeper. This is what the fire of Becoming created, what Induan’s death created, and what Marti died for. This is the fruit of the pain of my childhood, of my adolescence, of my wings.” My voice filled the space around us. Tsawo and Cy looked round-eyed and a little awed. “I will not waste the prices that have been paid for this. We will win.”
Cy didn’t matter. He wasn’t us. But Tsawo did.
I lowered my voice. “This is what you made of me. I am no longer what I was, or who I was, when you met me. If anyone can sculpt a future for us, it will be me.”
I saw the moment the balance of power finished shifting between us. His body shivered. Then he touched the single feather around his neck and said, “I will be your protector. I will make sure that you live, and that you thrive, and I will follow you.”
Cy looked at each of us in turn, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean anything when I laughed. I’m sorry.”
This time, my laugh was genuine.
As soon as I stopped, Cy said, “First, we have to get to the Peacemaker. Joseph appears to be controlling the big fleet, but I’m not at all sure that he has all of the autonomous fleet in his sphere of influence. Go. Get strapped in. I’ll figure out how to get you there safely.”