It’s okay,Rok mouthed, and gave her hand a squeeze.
No, it wasn’t, but she squeezed back.
“First of all, Grav and Rok are on our side,” Laurel said. “They did not participate in the massacre. They are different. They are contributing members of the community and have made us stronger.”
A reassuring murmur of agreement rumbled through the audience.
“Second, Grav is not a member of the council. He sits at the table as an advisor in the event issues with other Progg should arise.
“Third, with respect to who should vote, the council discussed this very issue before we brought this matter to your attention. Our reason for being here today is to choose ourfuture—not revert to the mistakes of the past. We on the council are unanimous in that we do not wish to begin by disenfranchising anyone.”
“However,Grav suggested, and the council concurred, that he and Rok sit this one out due to the circumstances and the stakes. This vote affects the destiny of Earth and thesurvival of the humanspecies. Grav and Rok are not Earthlings; this decision does not affect their species; it only affects ours. So, they won’t vote.”
That’s notentirelytrue, Chloe thought. The vote did affect the Progg who would be repatriated to a dying empire.
The Progg had attempted to annihilate every single person on Earth—and almost succeeded. That some would continue the mission provided another reason to accept federation assistance—to ensure the threat was stamped out.
Rok and Grav were exceptions. They were as much members of New Springfield as anybody. However, it seemed logical and justified that humans alone should decide their fate. Still, they had to be careful this vote remained a special circumstance and not the beginning of a pattern.
Laurel rubbed her tummy, and Chloe wondered if she was thinking about her mixed-race baby’s future and how well he or she would be accepted. “Does anyone have something to say that wasn’t already addressed?” she asked.
A few nos rang out, and people shook their heads.
“Then we’ll vote. If you wish to abstain, write abstain across your ballot.”
The council had come prepared. They distributed half-sheet written ballots and a box of pens and then placed the banker’s box on a stool. The theater went so silent, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
Do you accept the offer of assistance as presented by the Federation of Alien Beings? Yes or No.
She circled yes, folded her ballot, and joined the throng dropping their votes into the slit on the box top. Most had voted quickly like her, but she noted a few gnawing on their pens. Council members filled out their ballots and exited the stage to deposit them in the box.
“If the Progg are sent home, will you stay?” she asked Rok, her heart pounding. She assumed he would, but maybe he wouldn’t.
“They’d have to drag me off.”
“It’s not safe on your planet.” She soft-pedaled the reality. Anyone who returned faced infection and death.
“I’m staying because I love you. I might still catch the plague on Earth.”
“Don’t say that!” But he was right. They still didn’t know what exactly had killed the Progg—a cold, the flu, COVID, or something else. Maybe the disease had been eradicated when the vast majority of thepopulation got vaporized, but it was also possible that somebody somewhere might have a cold right now. Since he’d gotten sick and survived, hopefully he’d built up antibodies, but there was no way to tell unless he got infected again. And that had to be avoided at all cost.
“Don’t say I love you?” His mouth quirked.
“You know what I mean—and I love you, too.”
When everyone was seated, the cop from Kansas City collected the ballot box and delivered it to Candi. Laurel passed her the mike. The secretary held up a clipboard. From the front row, Laurel could see a single sheet of white paper divided into two columns by a black line. It contained two words. YES and NO. “As I read the votes aloud, I’ll tally them on this sheet. Henry will serve as a second count, tallying on his paper.”
The KC cop waved a duplicate clipboard.
Chloe discovered she was holding her breath.
The secretary reached inside the box and pulled out a ballot. “First vote—no.” She made a tick mark on her sheet, set the ballot aside, and reached for another. “Abstain.”
Next vote: “No.”
Chloe stifled a gasp. It couldn’t go that way, could it? This was their only real chance of recovery!
“Yes.
