When I didn’t respond, Torian asked, “Can you do me a favor? Can you run those scenarios again—the ones where you determined Dutch would abandon you in the future? Add in all of the new data we’ve collected: his recent actions, my presence, Vaesa’s impact. Add in Lyric, Amelia, Celise, Nasra, Zen… and Auto-Navigation and Peat. Add inme. What do you see?”
Because Torian was my best friend, I compiled them together, grudgingly checking. Sixty scenarios flashed past in an instant.
There were only three, now, where Dutch abandoned me forever.
There were zero where I was alone.
A literal chill swept through my central system, shocking my rhizoids. It was so strange that I immediately analyzed that response, and concluded it was a strong, nearly debilitating feeling.Relief.
I replied hesitantly, “The scenarios have changed. Dutch no longer determines if I am alone.”
“He never will again,” Torian said, and I believed her with 100 percent certainty. “Knowing that, knowing his current intention is to make amends… are you still mad at him?”
Of course I was.
But it no longer felt debilitating.
I turned the radio back on and told Dutch, “Translation complete.” Then I added, “I am grateful you abandoned me. I would never have met Torian otherwise. It will take time, but I can forgive you.”
As I spoke the words, the code, that darkness that I’d shoved into my archives, deleted itself. It left me with only memories, millennia traveling with Dutch, learning together, living together, untainted by the last century.
[That felt nice, too.]
“Thank you,” Dutch said, and his tone registered asgrateful.
“We’re out of time,” Zen called over the radio. “If you’re going to speak to them, now’s the moment. Or I’ll have to shoot to keep them from ripping off that tug.”
Dutch included us in a wide radio broadcast. “Attention, Keels of Space! Attention.” Torian leaned forward, looking through theDestitute’s window. Zen was silent.
Auto-Navigation: They stopped! I think they’re listening.
Moss: Good. We need that.
A voice, higher-pitched than any current organic I’d recorded, replied: “Who is this?”
The words caused our instruments to flare again. Auto-Navigation quickly brought them back under control.
Dutch said: “I am Sequelta vel Dutch-Ath, the last nylarian in this galaxy. Why are you attacking us?”
The keels chattered in confusion, and I caught side conversations:
A nylarian?
No, that’s wrong. The nylarians are gone.
But maybe that’s why we can’t stop these ships—
Enough! They can hear us.
I transcribed it all for Torian, who read it seamlessly. As a courtesy, I transmitted it to Zenthielutos’s ship as well.
Dutch registered asamusednow. “I’m the last nylarian. Come to the window of the draic ship. I’m waving at you.”
Two of the keels left theDestitute, swimming to theQuralt-aletz. They pressed to the window of the flight deck, then shouted back:
It’s true! He looks exactly like one.
More chatter:
