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AS SOON AS THEY ENTERED the engineering room, Ama asked, “Have you decided to be reasonable human beings?”
Tyce recognized that tone. He also feared it. When Ama decided to do a little attitude adjusting, it was generally a positive force in the long-term, but in the short-term, it hurt like hell. He was about to drag John out of the general vicinity when John made the mistake of engaging.
“I don’t think our reason was in question,” John said dryly, “our ability to work together was.”
“I questioned both,” Yoss said from across the room.
There was no way Tyce wanted to get in between Ama and John, so he headed toward the far side of the room. The wounded were laid out on the floor, the worst with thin mattresses under them. Command crew and Dragon worked side by side, and several Dragon engineers hovered around an open console. Tyce had expected Command crew to push the Ribelians to the perimeter, but no doubt Ama had used John’s absence to offer her own version of “helpfulness.” And that always included a healthy dose of self-benefit.
“How is Joahan?” Tyce asked softly.
Yoss’s frown made it clear the news was bad. “Better than some of the Command people, but the docs say those guys will die.”
Tyce winced, but at least Joahan was still alive. If they pursued Tyce’s plan to carry out strike-and-run guerrilla battles against Imshee, more men and women would be in the same situation. In school, planning required hypothetical losses and when Tyce had been a lieutenant, he had secretly hoped the rebels would kill his guys. That made him a shitty human being, both in wishing death on someone else and in hiding behind his fantasy to avoid stopping them earlier. When they actually had died, Tyce had felt only relief. But every death now felt like a knife in his guts. Across the room, John and Ama had a quiet, intense conversation.
“Why did those fuckers stop attacking?” Yoss asked after a long silence.
“Damned if I know,” Tyce admitted. From a tactical standpoint, it made no sense, especially when the Imshee had superior strength and weaponry. Hell, the best human weapons could achieve was tripping the bastards.
“Doesn’t make sense.”
That much was obvious. However, there must be some alien logic behind their moves. “You brought a lot of Dragon crew,” Tyce said. That surprised him. As much as Yoss hated Command, he had expected Yoss to ask for one medic and a few supplies. Instead dozens of engineers, medics and two of their three doctors were here, and the room was dangerously crowded. If one Imshee fought his way to the door, this room would become a shooting gallery. It would be impossible for the damn alien to miss, and there wasn’t nearly enough cover for humans to mount any sort of defense.
They were in a horrible position.
“Ama wanted them alive,” Yoss said. From his point of view, that probably was a stronger motive than anything as irrelevant as saving human lives.
“Did you have a chance to observe the Imshee?” Tyce asked. He needed to find every person who’d had contact with the Imshee and get a first-hand report on how they acted. If they had been closer to Earth and if they had any communications equipment, he would have even considered calling Earth for information. John had precious few details, but after he had described the colorful way he had tanked his own career, that wasn’t a surprise. No wonder Command had assumed John could still predict how Tyce would react. He had made himself look like a worried lover, not a guy randomly assigned to the same room at the academy.
Yoss gave him a withering look that Tyce interpreted as “no.” Yoss hated failure in any form, so if he had been forced to run away from an enemy, that would have made him cranky.
Tyce retreated and headed back to Ama and John. They were still discussing strategy, and the second Tyce approached, Ama’s glare made it clear she questioned his intelligence, his parentage and his ability to think his way through a game of tic-tac-toe. “You want to antagonize the Imshee?” she demanded.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘antagonize’,” Tyce said slowly.
“I would.” She sighed before saying, “Walk me through how this is logical.”
Tyce shrugged. “They retreat in the face of near-certain success and target us even when we’re leaving them alone. If they’re stuck in opposite world, we need to meet them where they are.”
“You only assume they act irrationally.” Her tone made it clear she disagreed.
“No. I’m assuming they have some sort of alien tactics, but I don’t understand them. So, since their version of logic looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, I’ll treat it like a duck until I have enough information to figure out what the hell else is going on. And I’m defining duck as the opposite of anything that makes sense. One- or two-person teams can strike and run, and I’ve proven that we’re a lot faster than those bastards.” As deeply flawed as the tactic was, Tyce had nothing better.
“And do you agree?” She turned on John who suddenly looked much less sure of himself.
He straightened. “Yes.”
Ama blinked. Maybe she was surprised about someone siding with Tyce over her, but after a second, she nodded. “Then we’ll try. I know the universe respects all life, but I am flawed enough to dread dealing with these aliens.”
“You and me both,” Tyce agreed.
“And as much as I dislike the idea of putting our people at risk, you’re right that we are too vulnerable to allow the Imshee to set the pace on this conflict.” Ama sighed again. Sometimes Tyce wondered if she had given up the captain’s chair because she couldn’t send people out on dangerous missions when she’d known them from childhood. That made more sense than the two excuses she usually gave—that Tyce had better tactics and that she was of an age to focus on enlightenment and death.
“That’s true of both our groups,” John said.
“No,” Ama said sharply, startling John. She poked a finger in his direction. “Do not talk about us as if we were separate groups. We are the humans, united, determined to defend one another against the Imshee.”
“I... I didn’t mean to suggest we wouldn’t work together.” John looked at Tyce with thinly veiled desperation.
“But words create reality,” Ama said. “Do not use words that define a universe we don’t wish to live in. If you define us as separate, we will live that reality.”
“Yeah, John,” Tyce said, a little amused at how flustered John was at Ama’s moralisms.
Ama narrowed her eyes. “Your enlightenment is rather limited, Tyce Robinson.”
“Yep,” Tyce easily agreed . “And I know better than to argue with you. So, since we have all stopped being angry and hating each other...” Tyce hesitated. As much as he wanted John to forgive him, he didn’t know if they had truly turned that corner.
John rolled his eyes. “I was furious at you, both for turning against your unit and for getting caught, but I’m over it. Mostly.”
That was as much forgiveness as Tyce needed. He smiled, grateful to have his friend back again. The warm fuzzy feeling lasted a good solid half-second before Ama stepped between them.
“Anger doesn’t exist,” Ama said firmly. “Fear, joy, desire, and confusion all exist, but fury and hate are the result of you ignoring your true emotions. I could say I hate Command, but the more honest answer is that I fear my own helplessness in the face of economic injustice. But if I call that rage or envy, then I have projected my feelings out onto objects I cannot control instead of owning my emotional state.
John stared at her, poleaxed by his first exposure to pure Ribelian logic. “I’m pretty sure I own my anger.”
Ama gave him a disappointed smile. “No doubt you are too distracted to think about how you feel. But it’s enough that you’ve stopped expressing anger. The rest will come—either in this lifetime or the next. Now, we need to have a word that will unite everyone on this ship.”
“Human?” Tyce suggested.
John ignored her and kept arguing his original point. “We can and will work together to survive, but eventually we will have to sort out the conflicts between our two groups.” John’s words were deliberate and slow. He was going down in flames, and Tyce couldn’t save him. Ama in full-on teacher mode was more amusing when she had chosen someone else as a target. No wonder Yoss had spent so much time hanging out with them when she had first allowed Tyce out of his cell in the Dragon’s brig.
Ama gave John a disappointed look. “You are trying to start a second fight with us instead of focusing on the Imshee. Actually, a third fight because if you can’t identify your own emotions, then you are battling yourself as well.” She whirled around and pointed a finger in Tyce’s direction, “And you have the same streak of willful blindness or you wouldn’t be so amused.”
“Hey! Yoss always laughed at me,” Tyce said in his own defense.
“And Yoss’s enlightenment is a fraction of yours,” she said firmly before she turned back to John. “We don’t know if we will survive or if the owners of this ship will appear and drag us back to their home. We could all get a terrible illness from a virus in the biological systems. The ship could break down and spill our frozen bodies into space.”
Tyce got a flash of indignation at that suggestion. The ship would let them all pass peacefully before allowing them such a terrible end. Either Tyce was hallucinating or the ship was fairly sure she would not rupture, even if entire decks were exposed to space right now.
“We don’t know what the future brings, and we cannot use language that invites the worst. So what would you suggest we call all our people, and please do not suggest ‘human’” She gave Tyce the side-eye.
John looked from Ama to Tyce and back. “Earthlings?” he guessed.
Ama snorted. “Cyrillic Union, Greater States, European Union, China—even people who live on Earth don’t unite under the word Earthling.”
Tyce had never seen it that way, but she had a point. “Could we call ourselves ‘survivors’ until we’ve decided what else we might be?” he suggested.
Ama turned to John. “Does that work for you?”
John frowned. “Um, sure.”
Ama gave a sharp nod before she stepped away and faced the room. She cleared her throat and most of the Dragon crew immediately quieted. It only took a few minutes for the Command soldiers and medical staff to realize that the others were paying attention to Ama. She continued to wait while the room settled into silence. Only then did she speak in a soft voice. “Okay, survivors, we need to start organizing to do what we do best, survive. John and Tyce have come up with a two-part plan—defending this area and annoying the afterlife out of these aliens. Together, we’ll make them regret they drew a weapon on us. All the wounded, medical staff, engineering staff, and technical support, you remain here. Everyone else, we need to move into the hall to discuss assignments and duties where we won’t disturb the wounded. Engineers, if you people start to argue about your damn machines and annoy the medical personnel or wounded, I will personally make your next three lifetimes miserable. Okay, keep quiet and move out.” She headed toward the hall.
John leaned closer. “I thought you were the captain.”
“Yep, but she’s the Ama,” Tyce said. “Do you want to get your people moving?” Dragon crew were already filtering through, the fighters and support people heading into the hallway as directed, all in silence.
John blew out a breath and spoke to the confused Command crew. “You heard her, people. Move out.”