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“But mostly because fuck them, that’s why.”
“So it really isn’t as bad as I thought it was at first,” observed Nuncle Lak, after the briefest silence. “It’s worse.”
And suddenly it mattered very much to Ingray how Taucris would look at her, when she turned to face her again.
“And I had never really thought about it that way before. Who are we if our vestiges aren’t real?” “You never thought of it before,” said the deputy chief, “because nobody has ever really questioned your being who you say you are. No one has ever told you your own vestiges are false, or that they mean you’re not really entirely Hwaean.”
“Diplomat does not mean nice,” muttered the spider mech. “Diplomat means tell the aliens to leave us alone.”
“Are you all right?” “I’m scared,” admitted Ingray, and yes her voice was breathy, but it didn’t shake quite as much as she’d feared it would. “I’m not,” said Garal, with the smallest suggestion of a smile. “I’m fucking terrified.”
A hatchling that thinks only of its own survival makes an untrustworthy adult, and if every hatchling behaved so, far too few would survive.
“There’s food here now,” said Garal. “Everything will be going on whether we eat or not. And it’s easier to think things through when you’re not hungry and thirsty.”
Though I guess you don’t need anything like comfort or manners when you’re just shoveling slimy animals into your mouth with your bare hands.” “I can’t imagine why the Geck ambassador doesn’t like you,” Garal said.
Netano looked directly at her but did not change her bland, neutral expression. If Ingray had been younger, with a guiltier conscience, she’d have shivered to see that. Now, older, she knew that expression concealed any strong emotion Netano needed to hide, not just anger and disappointment.
“Please don’t be afraid. There’s no reason this has to be unpleasant.” “I wasn’t afraid, until you said that,” replied Ingray.
She opened her eyes. Took another sip of serbat. It was obviously instant, and it was the best serbat she’d ever tasted.
“Do you still have your job?” Taucris asked. “Yes. Yes, and even if I get my own place I’ll always have my room at home, Mama said.” “Parents always say that,” said Taucris. “Do they?” asked Tic. “Mine didn’t.” “Nor mine,” Garal said, voice dry. “Well,” observed Ingray, with a small hiccup, “but I didn’t get any sea worms.” “Not everyone can be as lucky as I am,” Tic agreed.
