Page 62 of Them

“Who can say? Humans used to hurt each other all the time, and we didn’t evolve to be cannibals. Maybe our genetic meddling gave them a taste for Homo sapiens. Maybe they were just pissed off.”

“That’s what I mean! They seem so… alive. Intelligent. But there’s lots of smart animals. Elephants and dolphins. These things are capable of real emotion… of hatred. I’ve seen it. But they talk to each other too. They hurt, cry, scream. They fear. Maybe even love.”

“Dogs can love too.”

Tim thought of the discarded bag of beef jerky and reminded himself to tell Lane about that later. “Sure, but there’s something more to the Scorpions. Don’t you think?”

Lane stared down at the ground in shame. “Yeah, it’s quite the goddamn achievement.”

“What?”

“To fuck over two sentient species at the same time.” The old man looked up, tears in his bronze eyes. “I truly outdid myself.”

“You were doing your job.”

He sniffled. “I should’ve gotten another one.”

“You tried to stop it,” Tim said, picking up the loose pages and flipping through them. “Right here… look! You said all of this would’ve happened, with or without—”

“It doesn’t matter. I was complicit. Think about New York. Your family. Your mother. I shoulder a share of all of it… all that blood.”

A tornado of dueling emotions touched down inside Tim’s chest. His head was spinning. “Maybe you do…” he said. “Maybe you do. But you also stepped up and blew the whistle! You tried. And even if you could’ve stopped what happened to New York… my mom wouldn’t have wanted you to. She didn’t want to be alien food. Nobody wants to die like—”

“None of this happens without me!” Lane barked, startling Tim. “Don’t you understand that? None of it. The efforts to right my wrongs were too little, too late. And even if you’re right… even if only part of this was my fault… I should’ve stopped it! Even today, that’s still my responsibility.”

Tim’s voice was soft, brimming with empathy. Humanity. “There’s a difference between responsibility and blame.”

“No. I’ve already made whatever peace with it the best I could. You don’t have to coddle me. That’s not why I asked you to come here.” Their sunken eyes met in the lantern light. Lane looked much older than he did two hours ago. His wrinkles ran deeper, the discoloration of his flesh more vivid. “I know what awaits me on the other side.”

“And what’s that?”

“What I deserve.”

“How old were you?”

“What?”

“When you enlisted for Vietnam, how old were you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Why’d you go?”

“Huh?”

“Why?”

“Because we had to.”

“You said you enlisted. Why?”

“I would’ve been drafted anyway.”

“Tell me the truth, Lane.”

“The truth?”

“Yeah… why’d you go?”