The kitsen watched me in shock, but not one of them had complained yet that I was speaking out of turn.
I didn’t know if I could convince them, especially after what I’d just done—stars, what had I done?—but I had to try.
“We tried to reason with the Superiority,” I said. “They offered us a treaty, and we sent a delegation to sign the deal.” My throat closed, but I spoke through it. “The Superiority offered us peace and then locked our leaders up in a ship and blew it to pieces. Half our government is gone. I will not fight you, because I have had enough of senseless violence and death. If you want, we will collect our people and go. But before we do, I want to offer you the opportunity to join us. The UrDail already have! The Superiority made a deal with the UrDail—and then visited their planet with a battleship bent on destroying them. This new Superiority government, that’s what they do. And if you try to reason with them, they’re going to come for you, too. And I don’t want to see it happen again. Not what happened to—”
My voice broke.
“—to my people.”
To my parents.
The room was so hot, but my hands felt cold. My vision blurred. I couldn’t stay here anymore. I had to get out.
“Thank you,” I said. And I stood, my neck bent to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling, then moved in a crouch down the aisle and got down on my hands and knees to crawl through the double doors out of the chamber.
The cool air hit my face, and I squinted against the bright sunlight.
I turned toward the beach, careful not to step on anyone or anything, and ran away as quickly as I dared.
Nine
I made it almost to the water before FM caught up to me. My calves burned from moving so quickly across the sand, though I’d been out of breath since before I left the senate.
“Jorgen,” she said.
I didn’t turn around.
“Jorgen!” She caught me by the shoulder, spinning me around. My thoughts raced, and I felt like I could just keep spinning.
What the scud had I just done?
I’d shot a bunch of mindblades at a group of politicians. I’d sat in so many of those kinds of meetings growing up. I knew how to behave, how to hold everything in, how to present a calm front no matter what was going on inside.
Why did I have to go and do that?
“Jorgen,” FM said, “this has to stop.”
She was right, though I wasn’t sure which “this” she meant. The part where I faked being in control, though I didn’t have any idea what I was doing? This charade where we pretended we could put together alliances and fight the Superiority? Even if these people did agree to join us, what did we have to offer them? Was there any victory over an enemy this powerful? The best we could say was that so far we hadn’t been exterminated completely—though until very recently I didn’t think the Superiority had really been trying.
“Say something,” FM said. I didn’t see Alanik behind her. I wondered if she’d gone to tell the others what happened, or stayed to try to reason with the kitsen some more. She couldn’t possibly do a worse job than I’d done—
I swore, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“Okay,” FM said. “That’s a good start.”
I wanted to order her to go away again. I wanted to tell her I had no desire to talk about it.
But I also…didn’t. I was drowning, and I’d brought my whole flight with me, and—
A large wave crashed onto the sand, and I jumped.
“Scud, Jorgen,” FM said. “Sit down.”
That was the only thing I thought myself capable of, so I did.
FM sat next to me and set Boomslug and Snuggles into the sand next to her.
“I messed that up,” I said. Stars, I was the flightleader. I wasn’t supposed to admit weakness. If I had to, I was supposed to go to my superior officer so my flight wouldn’t lose respect for me.
But FM had lost respect for me a long time ago, so I guessed there wasn’t much to lose.
“Actually,” FM said, “I think what you said improved the meeting. I mean, I wouldn’t have suggested that you start throwing around random cytonic powers—”
“I didn’t do that on purpose,” I said.
“I know. But you got their attention, and then you gave them the speech they needed. And now they’re going to have to make a decision. And if they choose to side with the Superiority…” she sighed. “Sometimes people are going to make bad choices, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“That sucks,” I said.
“It’s the worst!” FM said. “But it’s not your fault.”
Scud. “We’re talking about my parents now,” I said.
“Yes, we’re talking about your parents!” FM said. “And don’t even try to order me not to because I’m not going to listen to you this time. You are holding everything in so tightly that it literally exploded. We are doing this now, whether you like it or not.”
I expected to feel angry, but instead I felt…relief. Like I’d been holding up something very heavy and someone else finally saw through my assurances that I had it and took some of the weight.
That didn’t make any sense though. “Talking about it isn’t going to change anything,” I said. “Nothing can change it.”
“That’s true,” FM said. “And trust me, I don’t like talking about these things any more than you do. But it helps, I promise. It doesn’t change what happened, but it changes you.”
I looked over at her. “You know this from experience?”
FM nodded. “Rig taught me that. Sometimes he has to make me talk, but every time I’m glad I did.”
“You guys are really good together,” I said. I would never have guessed it before they got together, but they seemed to balance each other out.
FM smiled. “Rig is my safe place,” she said. “But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you, and the fact that you need to talk or you’re going to explode. Again.”
I ran my hands through the sand. The grains were so tiny, and some of them stuck to my fingers. “I don’t even know what to say,” I said.
“Okay,” FM said. “I’ll go first. I was terrified when that Superiority ship exploded. I thought you had died in there. That’s the second time in a couple of weeks that we all thought you’d died, and it was horrible both times. So I would appreciate it if you’d stop doing that.”