“I will not speak in unison with you.”
Dutch heaved a sigh. “Well, fine, then. You go, and we’ll see if we’re contemplating the same thing.”
Now I almost didn’twantto pitch it. But Torian’s happiness and her sister’s survival hinged on Dutch’s help, so I absorbed my pride. “Celise values community, and there are many other humans like herwho cannot survive the human space station colonies. They could, however, survive on Vaesa—an abandoned space station.”
“Yes!” Dutch snapped his fingers. “That was exactly my thought. You’re so smart, Moss.”
“Flattery will not pardon your failure.”
“Worth a try,” Dutch joked.
I did not reply. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Anyway, it makes the most sense. My people—” Dutch swallowed, staring at his mug of ravla. “—well, they’re gone. And like most things, Vaesa needs maintenance. A colony of humans maintaining the biomes would be helpful, at this point.”
“You do not need a colony of humans to repair the biomes.” Even though we were leaning toward the same solution—even though this waswhyI allowed him on the ship in the first place—he was making this too easy. Suspicion flagged at 12 percent and rising, which meant more data was needed. “In fact, you have never expressed interest in protecting Vaesa before. We used to avoid visiting, once the other nylarians left.”
Dutch didn’t immediately respond. He sipped the ravla, staring at the half-finished model of theDestituteleft on the table by Torian. The likeness was obvious, and he picked up the metal sculpture. “The more time passes, the more nostalgic I get. A thousand years since they left. A thousand years that I’ve been alone.”
“You were not alone. Not like I was.”
Dutch’s hair flashed softly, a nylarian emotional signifier ofgrief. He turned the sculpture in his hands. “You’re right.”
He used to say that he only needed me.
I used to agree that I only needed him.
[What was true now?]
Another parallel was drawn in my central system. I tried to ignore it, but it persisted, flashing to gain attention. Reluctantly, I said, “It is not simply nostalgia, Dutch. Your abandonment of Vaesa has left the kerrac tree, Kerracia, alone as well. Regardless of whether Torian accepts this path, you need to ensure Kerracia does not suffocate on that space station.”
The nylarians worshiped the kerrac trees. Kerracia in particular held significance to them, something the tree loved to remind me about. Dutch visibly paled, his heart registering a skipped beat.
“You forgot that, too,” I said. I hoped it sounded accusatory.
Dutch rubbed his forehead. “I… I didn’tforgetabout the kerrac tree. I just—” Dutch drew a breath. “A lot of things became my responsibility when everyone left, didn’t they?”
“Only the things you are responsible for. Me, this ship, that tree. And now Torian.”
“Torian is my responsibility, too?” Dutch sounded exasperated.
Irritation flashed in my central system. “Torian is my responsibility. And I am yours. Celise is hers. Therefore, you have an obligation to all of us.”
I thought Dutch might reject this logic, for a moment. I ran multiple scenarios where he refused this, walked off the ship, and left my life for good. But surprisingly, Dutch simply contemplated it, then nodded agreement. “Okay. Tell me about Torian. What’s she like?”
Sometimes, organics said one thing and meant another entirely. I had a subfunction to identify those moments, and now, an unspoken sentence appeared in my central system:Is she worth what we’re proposing?
I had only known Torian for a few days, but my answer to that was obvious: “Torian exhibits the following qualities: selflessness, determination, attentiveness, and loyalty. I have statistical certainty that she—and any humans she supervises—will care for Vaesa in a manner respecting of the nylarian culture.”
Dutch set down the starship model and looked into one of the cameras. “Moss. What’s shelike?”
“She is my best friend,” I replied instantly.
Everything went quiet as Dutch contemplated that. I added no qualifiers—I did not need to. Torian = my best friend, and Celise = Torian’s best friend. If Celise needed clean air and a space bigger than theDestituteto live her life, Vaesa was the only logical option.
Dutch smiled. “I’ve been neglecting my legacy for some timenow. I think we need to repair that—and it starts with the human who rescued you. Stay with me.”
I replied, “You are inside my ship. I literally cannotnotstay with you.”
