“But, sir—”
He whirled on her, surprisingly fast for one of his bulk. “Did you say ‘but’?”
Relniv lowered her elongated head. “No, sir.”
“Of course you didn’t.” The fat male stepped inside, the door closing behind them. “Greetings. I am Cerou Gamrios, and on behalf of the Ziov Union I formally apologize for your cold welcome to Renziov. We would be happy to compensate you for your inconvenience. However, the ... proper avenue for such compensation is not as, ah, public as you suggest.”
“What the hell?” Nashira asked. “We just found a Hubpoint, mister. One practically right next to your planet.”
“No, Scout Wing, you did not.”
“Yes, we did! Don’t you understand what this discovery means for your people?”
“I understand better than you, Scout Wing. And I assure you, you have not discovered a Hubpoint.”
“Look, stop it, Ballpeenhead! I’m sick of the bureaucratic doublespeak!”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “And rest assured you will be richly rewarded for that non-discovery.”
She blinked. “I’m listening.”
“Nashira!” David cried.
“Why would you reward us for not helping your people?” Rynyan asked. “And more importantly, why didn’t you compensate me the last time you stole credit for my aid?!”
“But you would be helping our people,” Gamrios said. “You saw how distraught Commander Relniv was at the very suggestion of a new Hubpoint. Can you imagine that multiplied across our entire population?”
“But with a more convenient Hubpoint,” Rynyan said, “you’d have no more of those nasty long commutes, those pathetic cubbyholes you call homes ...”
“And you wouldn’t need to waste all those resources on the move,” David put in before Rynyan could make things any worse.
“Waste?” Gamrios asked. “The Union has spent a generation organizing the most efficient, streamlined relocation of a planetary population in the history of the Network. Every move has been precisely calculated to optimize resources and energy. An entire planetary economy, infrastructure, and social order all completely devoted to a single massive undertaking, all executed with a discipline and commitment that makes the Ziovris the envy of the Network! Our people have dedicated their lives, not to mention their resources, to that undertaking. To systematically pack away an entire planet’s wealth, technology, architecture, art, historical documents, flora, fauna, even the occasional natural wonder, and smoothly, economically relocate it all to our new world.
“If that great flow were interrupted, if we tried to halt or reverse its momentum, the waste would be unconscionable! Not only the waste of energy, the waste of time, the waste of resources—but the waste of our people’s pride and dedication! Imagine the despair that would bring! To leave the great work unfinished—just because we don’t need to do it? Unconscionable!”
“So you just keep on living in a police state for no reason?” David asked.
“Our discipline and self-sacrifice are reason in themselves. They give every one of us a purpose, a role to play in the great work. If a closer Hubpoint were found, then all of that meaning and structure, that sense of higher purpose, would be torn away, and what would be left to believe in?”
“How about the truth?” David said.
“Now, David,” Nashira said. “The way I see it, everyone’s entitled to their own belief systems.”
“Nashira, they’re trying to bribe us into lying!”
“There’s no lie and no bribe,” Gamrios said cheerfully. “You did not discover that Hubpoint, and you will do our people a great service by not claiming its discovery.” He went on before David could formulate a protest. “Just as I did them a service when I did not claim its discovery.”
Nashira stared. “What?”
The fat Ziovris sighed. “As a youth, I chafed against the disciplines of our society and left home for the Hub in search of a new life. But thanks to my limited means, there was no place for me there save the role of Hub scout. Maybe it was before your time, or maybe our paths simply never crossed; yours is such a minor species, no offense.” David fumed, but Nashira ignored it. “And one day, I took a dive through the Hub and found myself ... home. Oh, Renziov was at a different point in its orbit, so I didn’t arrive right above it as you did, but I knew my own sun, my own starscape.”
“Wait.” Nashira frowned. “They wouldn’t send me on a known vector.”
“Oh, they didn’t.” Gamrios trundled toward the window, gazing out at the gorgeous, sunlit oceanscape beyond. “I was filled with excitement at first. A convenient Hubpoint for Renziov! It would change everything. It would make me rich enough to get out of the life, famous enough to write my own ticket back home. I went back to the quantelope tank to report ... and on the way, it hit me.”
“What did?”
“Why, the sheer unlikelihood that I would emerge next to my own homeworld. That of all the scouts in the Hub, it was a Ziovris who found the Hubpoint near Renziov. That couldn’t be random chance. That was order. Of all the scouts who could have discovered such a Hubpoint, the Universe chose the one scout who would understand the importance of keeping it undiscovered. I couldn’t deny the synchronicity of that. I, Cerou Gamrios, had my own special role to play within the Great Migration. Even in my attempt at defiance, I had served the cause without knowing it.
“And once I recognized that, I understood how wrong it would be to disrupt that order. I realized how much our society depended on this grand, organized project in which every citizen, myself included, had a part to play. What is the Hub compared to that? The Network is too big, too expansive, too chaotic. The individual is lost in the shuffle. But here, everything fits together, everything makes sense, and everyone is needed in the great work. I couldn’t take that away from my people by reporting what I’d found.”
“Didn’t you think your people deserved a say in that?” David pressed.
“Oh, they did. The Hubpoint beam on my arrival was detected by a nearby mining vessel and a regulatory enforcer. Independently, they both hailed me and begged me to tell them they hadn’t seen what they thought they’d seen—that the commitment and sacrifices we’ve made still had meaning. I was happy to confirm that it was merely a glitch in my comm laser.”
Gamrios straightened, insofar as his bulbous frame allowed. “Of course, this left me with a dilemma, for I could never return to the Hub. But as you can see,” he went on, gesturing at the suite around them, “patriotism can have very tangible rewards. Those who became aware of my service to the Great Migration were happy to compensate me for my loss of employment. I was given a new identity and a, ah, position commensurate with the value of my service. I finally advanced,” he said proudly, “but within the system, not despite it. Though I still have the Hub to thank.”
“Oh my God,” Nashira said. “Kred! That diu puk gai! He knew! He gave me a dead vector! He bloody tried to kill us!” She’d known a second discovery of this magnitude was too good to be true. It figured that it wasn’t her discovery after all.
“Yes, I was surprised to see another scout so soon,” Gamrios said. “That is my position in the system: to help ensure the continued non-discovery of the Hubpoint. It’s an easy job, true, given the, ah, years between attempts, but you can’t deny it’s an essential one. The second scout came through at roughly the expected time, so my department was able to intercept him before he could alert the Hub. Yes, we weren’t just sitting around earning a lavish state subsidy for nothing, we were ready.” He fidgeted. “True, we, ah, weren’t expecting the third for much longer, so no one can blame us for being a little slow on the response this time around. It’s, ah, quite fortunate that you happened to materialize in our orbital space so you could be intercepted promptly.”
“Fortunate for you, you mean,” Nashira said.
“And for you as well, if you have the sense to follow my lead.” He gestured out the window. “Look
at it. All that vast, open beauty. Eventually there will be no one left on Renziov except for a very few who choose to remain isolated from the galaxy. And those few will have the resources of a whole world to divide among them. They will all be incredibly wealthy.”
“So we stay here where nobody will ever find us, and live in luxury for the rest of our lives?”
“Exactly. Your predecessor scout was offered the same arrangement and wisely accepted. We’ve had no complaints.”
Gamrios moved closer to her. “And why wouldn’t he? You know what the life of a scout is like as well as I do. The constant danger ... the endless tedium ... the meager rewards. Who wouldn’t give up that life in a heartbeat if offered something better? What loyalty do you owe to someone who tried sending you to your death?”
As her fellow scout held her eyes, Nashira found she couldn’t dismiss his words. Find a paradise planet and retire there without ever telling the boss? It was every Hub scout’s secret fantasy.
She smiled at Gamrios. “Why don’t you let me think about it for a while?” she said. Just because it was her fantasy, that didn’t mean she couldn’t milk it for all the Ziovris were worth.
The suite’s facilities were indeed luxurious. Rynyan wasted no time sampling the food printer and the bar, while Nashira availed herself of a bathtub big enough to qualify as an Olympic pool. David left them to it. He needed to think for a while.
When Nashira came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—a rather small one, since most Ziovris had slimmer frames than humans—she was indignant to find David leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom door. “What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, tightening her grip on the towel.
“Keeping watch,” he said. “In case Rynyan tried to peek at you or something.”
“Oh.” Her gaze softened. “That’s ... really sweet.” She seemed to mean it, but she also seemed vaguely disappointed for some reason David couldn’t figure. Maybe she was just disappointed not to have something to yell about. She couldn’t let herself be happy or optimistic about anything. David liked to think he’d taught her a thing or two about hope over the past month, though. She smiled more these days than when they’d first met.
But David wasn’t in the mood to smile. For once, he felt he had to be the skeptical one. As she headed for her room, he stepped in her path. “Nashira, we have to talk.”
She held his gaze. “I’m listening.”
She was breathing heavily, her stare intense. David realized he was standing awfully close, probably making her nervous. He stepped back, looking away. “I ... I mean after you get dressed.”
“Oh. Of course.” There was that weird sense of disappointment again. It was like she’d have been happier if he stayed in her personal space so she could be mad at him. She swept past him and into her room. She let the scant towel fall a little too soon, and he quickly looked away. He’d be a poor friend and partner if he let himself notice her in that way. And she’d probably kill him if she knew he’d seen her butt. He tried not to think about it.
But boy, she sure was fit.
Luckily, he had his concerns to keep him distracted. “Are you really going to go along with this?” he asked Nashira once she emerged, attired in a fetching blue dress that the suite’s fabricator must have made for her.
“Look around, kid,” she said with a laugh. “This is the good life! Everything I could ever want at my fingertips, a whole planet to wander around in without a lot of people to bother me, and best of all, no more daily risk of instant death or terminal boredom. No more Kred looking down his little rat nose at me.”
“But what about our quest? What about humanity?”
She fell back onto an enormous couch. “Your quest was a fantasy. Humanity’s got nothing new to offer the Network, and we’re lucky to get the charity we do. Things are decent now for folks back home; why make waves?”
“Because decent isn’t good enough. Because there’s a whole galaxy of wonders we deserve to be a part of.”
“Even so, you and I weren’t going to change things. You don’t know what you’re doing, and I don’t ruddy care.”
David sighed. “Do you care about the Ziovris? Is it really okay with you to get this kind of luxury in exchange for helping a government keep lying to its people?”
“That’s what governments do. They’re all scams to keep people in line.”
“No, they aren’t. Look at the Sosyryn. Everyone’s free and equal there.”
“That just means everyone’s in on the scam. They scam themselves into thinking their condescending charity gives meaning to their empty lives, and they scam rubes like you into thinking it makes them nobler than the rest of us.” She shook her head. “Do-gooders are just as self-serving as everyone else. They just get rewarded in ego points.” She leaned back and stroked the couch’s velvety contours. “Me, I’d rather get more tangible rewards.”
“Hmph,” said Rynyan, who’d wandered over after hearing his people mentioned. “You call this a reward? The minibar only serves eighty kinds of liquor. And I checked—they only have ten masseuses on call and only six will take their clothes off!”
“Oh, learn to rough it.”
“I ‘rough it’ quite enough slumming in your squalid little Hubstation. I want to go home!”
“And how are you going to arrange that, hmm?”
“Didn’t you see the way that female guard was looking at me?” Rynyan preened his feathery mane. “Leave it to me, I’ll persuade her to let us out of here.”
Nashira stood to face him, having some difficulty getting off the pillowy couch. “Try it and you’ll get us all in trouble!”
“Exactly,” David said. “We have to be united in this. We need you with us, Nashira. Please.”
“David, it’s okay. Just immerse yourself in the luxury and let it wash those pesky ideals away. You’ll be happier.”
“Would you really be happy here? What about ... companionship? Human ... companionship?”
She looked at him through lowered lashes, a rakish tilt to one brow. “That could be arranged.”
“How? By having the suite fabricate a man for you? Get real, Nashira!”
“Oh, the hell with you!” she cried, turning to stride away. “Go on, try to escape, get your arse thrown in prison for all I care.”
“We’re already in prison.” That froze her in her tracks. David went to her, turning her around and gripping her bare shoulders. “Look, you’re the one always complaining about a Hub scout’s life. How oppressed and hopeless you are. This whole world’s like that. Every Ziovris is living the life you want to get away from. Worse—a life that people would take up Hub scouting to escape.”
“It’s what they’ve chosen. It matters to them.”
“It what they’ve learned to settle for,” David countered. “Because they’ve lost hope that things can change. Because they’re afraid to let themselves believe there can be a better life.”
He clasped her hands, looking deep into her eyes. “Do you really want to be like them, Nashira? At least in the Hub, you have a chance. You have something to strive for. To hope for. Are you really ready to give that up?”
After a moment, she turned away, storming over to the picture window to gaze out at the blazing, gorgeous sunset. “You are so ... damn ... selfless. Didn’t say a word about what you wanted, didn’t try to get me to do it for you.” She whirled. “It’s not fair, you know. Makes me feel inadequate for being selfish.”
“You’re not selfish, Nashira. You just want a better life. We all do. Including the Ziovris.”
She winced and clenched her fists, letting out a shriek. “Okay, then. Let’s do this before I bloody change my mind. Or just strangle you.”
“Great!” David cried. “On to freedom!”
She rolled her eyes. “But I’m keeping the damn dress.”
Rynyan’s plan to seduce the guard proved disturbingly successful. Nashira couldn’t understand why a self-respecting female of any spec
ies would fall for his bald advances. But it didn’t take Rynyan long at all to talk the guard into trying out the bathtub with him while allowing the humans to slip away. Maybe the Ziovris were just too accustomed to being submissive, and the guard had responded to the Sosyryn’s air of superiority and entitlement. Not that Rynyan would see it that way; to him, he was doing the guard a favor. Better her than me, Nashira thought. And then she tried very hard not to think about it anymore.
Which just led her to think about her own sexual prospects. “That could be arranged?” What was I thinking? A lifetime here with David as my only possible lover? Okay, he was reasonably cute in a lost-puppy kind of way ... and sweet ... and generous ... and kind ... and sometimes when he gazed into her eyes and made those passionate, idealistic speeches, it stirred something inside her that she thought she’d lost a long time ago ... but no. He was pure man-child. Completely immature, and not even in the fun way. Her flirtations had gone right over his head; even flashing her bum hadn’t gotten a rise. She must’ve been desperate even to try it—so blinded by the wealth and luxury Gamrios offered that she forgot how much she’d miss the company of real men. The hell with the plight of the Ziovris people—she was escaping in the name of getting well and properly laid ever again.
Not to mention the reward for finding the new Hubpoint. It might not be wealth as endless as what Gamrios had been peddling, but she could still come out of this a rich woman.
And, okay, helping the Ziovris throw off the yoke of oppression would be nice too. It wasn’t like she had anything against them.
Though when they reached the door to the quantelope shack and Commander Relniv emerged with her firearm pointed right at Nashira’s chest, she began to rethink that opinion.
“Why are you here?” Relniv asked.
“Us? Oh, nothing, we were just ... looking for the gym.” Nashira shut herself up before she said anything stupider.
So naturally David did it for her. “We’re trying to escape, Commander. Holding us here is wrong.”
“No,” Relniv said. “I mean, why are you here?” She gestured around at the luxurious facility. “Why would they take you to this place?” Nashira belatedly recognized the dismay and confusion in the commander’s alien features. “If you were lying about a new Hubpoint, why would they reward you?”
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