Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(52)

—So you’re afraid you’ve jeopardized the lives of the other kids.

—Even if they don’t intend to hurt anybody, as soon as you start shooting things up, people can die. Anybody might die. They might compromise life support, they might blow out a wall, entirely by accident but if it kills you, you don’t care if it was on purpose.

—An excellent analysis. You did this to save your mother. One life, important to you. Unthinkable not to try to protect her.

—Except she’s not my biological mother.

—Biological mothers lay their eggs and swim away and die. She’s your primate mother, you don’t let her get killed by the hyenas.

—But I’m still responsible for whatever happens when these raiders arrive.

—First, whoever set you this task may already be out of power in whatever country they thought they served. So absolutely nothing might happen. Right?

—é, but I’m not going to bet on that.

—Second, when they come, station security may drive them off right from the start. There’s no way to secretly approach a space station at one of the Lagrange points. There’s a lot of empty space but it’s totally watched, so you’ll get pinged even if you come in quiet and dark.

—Unless they think you’re something else that’s safe and expected.

—Deception might work. But if deception was a tool they were prepared to use, what would they need you for? They’d get in through the cargo ports, the entry bay, the docking tubes.

—So what they need me for is to take the blame. Look, this kid signaled us, he opened the door for us, he’s the traitor.

—As if spaceships obeyed the commands of nine-year-olds.

—Eleven almost twelve, but that’s right. They blamed you, though.

—They didn’t court-martial me.

—You weren’t allowed to go home to Earth.

—We children of the Fleet have all the universe before us, and only one place that we can’t go.

—You’re not a “child of the Fleet,” technically speaking.

—I’m a child, and the Fleet owns me. Dabeet, what is your main concern here? To absolve yourself of any blame, no matter what happens?

—I want to keep anybody from being hurt. Not my mother, not any of the kids here, not the teachers, not even the corrupt administration.

—And not you, either.

—If possible.

—Minimize risk.

—As much as I can.

—Go to the commandant and tell her everything you’ve told me.

—As if she’d believe me. As if she’d even let me talk to her.

—You’re talking by ansible to an unidentified person, Dabeet. That’s making her insane even as we converse. You want to meet with her? Tell a teacher—tell whatever adult is talking to you—that the person you talked to by ansible told you to fully inform the commandant of everything you told me.

—And never tell her whom I talked to?

—She’ll assume it’s MinCol, and that serves your purpose better than invoking my famous but powerless name.

—What do you think will happen? She’ll treble security and fight off the bad guys, then give me a medal?

—Oh, I think the likeliest thing is that she’s the most corrupt person at the station, and the bad guys you met with have already bought their way past security in exchange for allowing her smuggling to continue. They’ll promise not to hurt anybody, and then they’ll kill her first thing. If you were those would-be raiders, wouldn’t you do it that way?

—So what will I have accomplished?

—Moved responsibility to the adults, where it belongs. It’s not supposed to be your job.

—But you’re right, she probably won’t do anything useful. Whether she believes me or not, she’s probably committed to—

—You don’t know what she’s committed to. Maybe she will fight off the bad guys, and give you a medal when it’s done. Or a court-martial. Does it matter, as long as the station is safe?

—Even if she fights them, there’s still a good chance of kids dying or being injured as collateral damage. Or the whole station getting blown to smithereens. Same thing if she’s in cahoots with them.

—I’ve always wondered what a cahoot is, and how many people can fit in one.

—You’re playing language games?

—Why not? Our whole conversation is about games.

—No it’s not. It’s about a real threat to Fleet School.

—Oh, you remembered that.

—That’s all I care about!

—I thought you were playing a game, Dabeet. The game of shifting the blame away from yourself, then hiding your head and hoping it all goes away.

—I told you it isn’t about the blame!

—Isn’t it? Because you don’t seem interested in taking responsibility for what you’ve done, signaling people on Earth who want to attack Fleet School Station.

—I’ll take responsibility! That’s why I’m talking to you!

—No, no. You’re still talking about blame. You’ll take the blame when everything turns to kuso, very brave of you, but you’re not taking responsibility for the invitation you just sent to the would-be invaders.

—I don’t see what the difference is between—