The Silka
Chapter Twenty Eight
Marc stood with McGee and M'Nala watching as the cocoons that had been so fragile and the Silka who'd been dying were improving by the moment. He glanced over at Dinah, who was looking as rested and as beautiful as ever. Marc couldn't even be furious with McGee given it had done Dinah so much good.
He spent the time standing there going back over all the pieces they'd already put in place, looking for the flaws, looking for the mistakes in logic, trying to anticipate what the Star Lords would do the moment they discovered that the Rift was back in place and they were this time on the inside of the Asylum with no retreat. If it were him, he'd go head on, and risk everything. He guessed they were probably a lot like him.
M'Nala stroked the cocoon tenderly. "You have saved us from extinction."
Marc looked at her evenly. "I'm not so sure slavery is better than extinction. I do get the whole idea that a job done willingly is not slavery, but when you were engineered for the job at hand, what choice did you have, really?" He sighed. "One day I'll truly free you. This I promise."
She gaped at him. "Free us from what?"
"From a responsibility you had no choice in accepting, nor really understanding the time frame and the necessity of it."
"We are not stupid."
"No, of course you aren't. But the idea that one species must protect all, and none assist..."
She smiled. "On Tuesdays it my turn to fix a meal for my housemates and clean up afterwards. On other days it is someone else's turn. Simultaneity is neither necessary nor sufficient for fairness or justice. Yesterday we protected you. Today you protect us."
Marc threw his hands up in the air. "Who am I to knock a full-blown Savior complex. Let's see if you thank me after we get the Rift back in place and the Star Lords come here to destroy you utterly."
Her eyes flashed sparks, all humor gone. "Now you insult us. There are no perfect choices, nor perfect vacuums in which to make them. We are not the ones playing savior, trying to protect everyone from themselves."
She sighed, forcing her temper down. "Without you we would not be. You needed us but what does that have to say to anything? We have had lives, know joy and happiness and sorrow. We've been able to think, to communicate and learn, reason and imagine. You gave us those things and in giving them to us you also gave us a raison d'etre that has held us to something outside of ourselves, something worth while that forced us to learn selflessness. Don't steal that back from us because you don't know how to exist without guilt."
"Oh, trust me," Marc replied lightly, "I have lots of other things to feel guilty about. If you and yours are happy then I'll leave it alone."
She stroked the cocoon under her hand again considering him, wondering if he knew how arrogant he was. He didn't understand, he'd never understand probably, because then he'd have to see the world around him differently and he wasn't ready for that. "It pleases you to think you have a choice to make about it. It pleases me to allow you to continue to do so."
Marc grinned. "So kind. McGee, I suggest we prepare for the Star Lords. I doubt they'll be hanging out at the Rim once the Rift goes back up. They'll sense the power coming from here and they'll be coming to us."
"You have a plan?"
"I have a plan," Marc replied. "It is complicated by the fact we have to make certain they don't disrupt the dreamers, but I'm thinking, hoping really, that Christopher can reach across time as well as space and hook up with his siblings and give us a metaconcert that we can use to fight them with, as well as your Cephi and our dragons."
"He did it when they triggered the Silka," McGee said.
Marc nodded. "Doing it in the pressure of battle, and for an extended time will be more difficult. But I think the two of us can manage it."
The Margassans and the Guild will follow them here," McGee said. "The news from Pensa is that the Barons and the Syndicate aren't happy with the new competition either."
"No, I imagine they aren't. But I doubt they'll risk their fleet to get involved. They'll sit on the sidelines hoping we cripple each other and they'll have the Rim to themselves afterwards. What we need to do is alert the Margassans and the Guild that we expect the Star Lords to head here for one last attempt to destroy the Rift. If they agree to follow and help, then I think we have a chance."
McGee raised a brow. "We can get word to them. You already know that."
"Yes, but will they risk leaving the Rim on my word alone, that's the question."
"Paxx is with them. And the Darrochs and Chola."
"Let's hope they're persuasive then," Marc replied. "Because they've fought and died for their own worlds. Now we're asking them to fight and die for someone else's. And they may or may not see it as we do."
"Send Kalie."
"Good idea," Marc replied.
"What did Cola say when she got back from seeing the twins?" McGee asked. "Are they going to help?"
"Yes. So we need to hold off the Star Lords until they can all reach us. The Houses, the Warrior Monks, our friends on Earth. They're all coming."
"Then it will be a spectacular battle no matter what happens. And if we lose there won't be much left worth their while." McGee rubbed his chin. "And we still don't know what the First Ones are doing. That worries me."
"Frankly," Marc pointed out dryly, "I've got enough to worry about already. Either they choose to wake up and fight, or.. well, they'll live with the consequences."
"You really are a judgmental bastard, aren't you?" McGee asked.
Marc raised an eyebrow. "Am I? Perhaps it's just that I say what I'm thinking rather than being polite."
"No, it's that there's no middle ground with you. If they do what you think they should they're ok. Otherwise...When this is over go live in their world for a while. Then judge them. Exist in their milieu, live under the same constraints and then decide."
"I'm glad they have a champion," Marc replied, eying McGee. "Let's hope I'm their worst critic." He paused then added, "I realize I've little knowledge of them, but from what I saw, let's just say I'm not the only arrogant son of a bitch around."
Zaf, who'd wandered in to hear the last of the argument snorted. "I'll second that."
"If I were Dinah," McGee said coldly, "I'd call you a jack ass and hit you. But it'd be a waste of time."
"No doubt," Marc replied and sauntered off.
***************
He spent the time standing there going back over all the pieces they'd already put in place, looking for the flaws, looking for the mistakes in logic, trying to anticipate what the Star Lords would do the moment they discovered that the Rift was back in place and they were this time on the inside of the Asylum with no retreat. If it were him, he'd go head on, and risk everything. He guessed they were probably a lot like him.
M'Nala stroked the cocoon tenderly. "You have saved us from extinction."
Marc looked at her evenly. "I'm not so sure slavery is better than extinction. I do get the whole idea that a job done willingly is not slavery, but when you were engineered for the job at hand, what choice did you have, really?" He sighed. "One day I'll truly free you. This I promise."
She gaped at him. "Free us from what?"
"From a responsibility you had no choice in accepting, nor really understanding the time frame and the necessity of it."
"We are not stupid."
"No, of course you aren't. But the idea that one species must protect all, and none assist..."
She smiled. "On Tuesdays it my turn to fix a meal for my housemates and clean up afterwards. On other days it is someone else's turn. Simultaneity is neither necessary nor sufficient for fairness or justice. Yesterday we protected you. Today you protect us."
Marc threw his hands up in the air. "Who am I to knock a full-blown Savior complex. Let's see if you thank me after we get the Rift back in place and the Star Lords come here to destroy you utterly."
Her eyes flashed sparks, all humor gone. "Now you insult us. There are no perfect choices, nor perfect vacuums in which to make them. We are not the ones playing savior, trying to protect everyone from themselves."
She sighed, forcing her temper down. "Without you we would not be. You needed us but what does that have to say to anything? We have had lives, know joy and happiness and sorrow. We've been able to think, to communicate and learn, reason and imagine. You gave us those things and in giving them to us you also gave us a raison d'etre that has held us to something outside of ourselves, something worth while that forced us to learn selflessness. Don't steal that back from us because you don't know how to exist without guilt."
"Oh, trust me," Marc replied lightly, "I have lots of other things to feel guilty about. If you and yours are happy then I'll leave it alone."
She stroked the cocoon under her hand again considering him, wondering if he knew how arrogant he was. He didn't understand, he'd never understand probably, because then he'd have to see the world around him differently and he wasn't ready for that. "It pleases you to think you have a choice to make about it. It pleases me to allow you to continue to do so."
Marc grinned. "So kind. McGee, I suggest we prepare for the Star Lords. I doubt they'll be hanging out at the Rim once the Rift goes back up. They'll sense the power coming from here and they'll be coming to us."
"You have a plan?"
"I have a plan," Marc replied. "It is complicated by the fact we have to make certain they don't disrupt the dreamers, but I'm thinking, hoping really, that Christopher can reach across time as well as space and hook up with his siblings and give us a metaconcert that we can use to fight them with, as well as your Cephi and our dragons."
"He did it when they triggered the Silka," McGee said.
Marc nodded. "Doing it in the pressure of battle, and for an extended time will be more difficult. But I think the two of us can manage it."
The Margassans and the Guild will follow them here," McGee said. "The news from Pensa is that the Barons and the Syndicate aren't happy with the new competition either."
"No, I imagine they aren't. But I doubt they'll risk their fleet to get involved. They'll sit on the sidelines hoping we cripple each other and they'll have the Rim to themselves afterwards. What we need to do is alert the Margassans and the Guild that we expect the Star Lords to head here for one last attempt to destroy the Rift. If they agree to follow and help, then I think we have a chance."
McGee raised a brow. "We can get word to them. You already know that."
"Yes, but will they risk leaving the Rim on my word alone, that's the question."
"Paxx is with them. And the Darrochs and Chola."
"Let's hope they're persuasive then," Marc replied. "Because they've fought and died for their own worlds. Now we're asking them to fight and die for someone else's. And they may or may not see it as we do."
"Send Kalie."
"Good idea," Marc replied.
"What did Cola say when she got back from seeing the twins?" McGee asked. "Are they going to help?"
"Yes. So we need to hold off the Star Lords until they can all reach us. The Houses, the Warrior Monks, our friends on Earth. They're all coming."
"Then it will be a spectacular battle no matter what happens. And if we lose there won't be much left worth their while." McGee rubbed his chin. "And we still don't know what the First Ones are doing. That worries me."
"Frankly," Marc pointed out dryly, "I've got enough to worry about already. Either they choose to wake up and fight, or.. well, they'll live with the consequences."
"You really are a judgmental bastard, aren't you?" McGee asked.
Marc raised an eyebrow. "Am I? Perhaps it's just that I say what I'm thinking rather than being polite."
"No, it's that there's no middle ground with you. If they do what you think they should they're ok. Otherwise...When this is over go live in their world for a while. Then judge them. Exist in their milieu, live under the same constraints and then decide."
"I'm glad they have a champion," Marc replied, eying McGee. "Let's hope I'm their worst critic." He paused then added, "I realize I've little knowledge of them, but from what I saw, let's just say I'm not the only arrogant son of a bitch around."
Zaf, who'd wandered in to hear the last of the argument snorted. "I'll second that."
"If I were Dinah," McGee said coldly, "I'd call you a jack ass and hit you. But it'd be a waste of time."
"No doubt," Marc replied and sauntered off.
***************
