“What did they die of?”
“An Earth disease. We tried to treat it with our portable med units, but it didn’t do any good.”
“How many Progg are still here alive?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know…not many.”
In the past week, she’d encountered a total of seven humans, but only two Progg. One shouldn’t draw conclusions from such limited data, but what if he was right?
Mixed feelings assailed her. The invincible appeared to have been vanquished, and Rok had beenabandoned by his military. She felt incongruously sorry for him yet filled with vengeful glee. The invaders had gotten what they deserved.We won. We fucking won!The aliens would be outnumbered.We might survive. We could eliminate the remaining Progg and rebuild.
She wondered exactly what had killed them. Had to be something viral, communicable, and airborne, given the limited physical contact between their two species. A cold? The flu? COVID?Maybe China did the world a favor after all.
What if the Progg on the command ship had been infected and carried the disease to their home world?
Oh, Karma, my bitchy friend, I love you.You do such excellent work.
“You’re smiling,” Rok said. “You rejoice in this.”
“Can you blame me?”
From what he’d had shared of his upbringing, the Progg never had a chance to become decent beings. The young were brainwashed into hardened killing machines. It made the invasion understandable, but it did not excuse it. She gave no free passes for genocide.
“I do not rejoice inyourpersonal loss. I can empathize with being left behind on an alien world. But am I happy your people got what they hadcoming? Hell, yes! You—and I mean your people—damn near wiped out the entire human race.”
He might never reunite with his brother, but at least Rokhadfamily. “You think because you lost, we can shake hands and be friends? I don’t think so. What you did was unforgivable.”
“You and I cannot be friends?”
“I don’t know.” Her feelings toward him were complicated, mixed up, fucked up.
If he hadn’t been a Progg, she would have thought him decent and nice. He’d been exceptionally polite and accommodating. He’d never laid a finger on her—he’d given her his weapon! He expressed an almost-childlike wonder in Earth, and she’d never forget his laughter when he’d mastered riding a bicycle. He seemed…sweet, almost vulnerable. She would have enjoyed spending time with him, learning more about him. Fully aware of what his people had done, shestillliked him. She hated the aliens but couldn’t despise him. But she couldn’t bring herself to say, “let’s be friends.”
“I understand,” he said.
She tore her gaze away from the sadness in his eyes and focused on the sign. There seemed to be a lotof writing. “What exactly did your brother say? Can you read his message to me?”
“It says, ‘This is Grav, aide to Admiral Drek. The admiral is dead. GM has aborted the campaign. Progg are to cease engagement. There will be no extraction. We go in peace to water grassland.’”
“We? Who’s we? His regiment?”
“No. They’re all dead. I found his camp.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he’s with another Progg,” she said.
“Or a human,” he suggested.
“What does he mean by water grassland?”
“I was hoping you knew.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” Kevin snuffled around in the tall weeds. She’d need to check him for ticks. Her bike leaned against the trash can; Rok’s lay on the sidewalk. “Here.” She shoved the holster at him.
I must be crazy to give the enemy his weapon back.
