Defy the Worlds (Defy the Stars #2)(92)



“Mechs with full personhood remain rare,” Abel explains. “I’m almost certainly unique at this time, though I expect others to follow. If it takes you some time to adjust to this, I fully understand—but I hope you’ll both remain crew members and friends.”

Zayan and Harriet share a bewildered look, one that lasts long enough for Abel to wonder whether they’ll abandon ship at their next opportunity. Slowly, however, Harriet begins to nod. “You’re a good captain. That’s the main thing. We’ll figure out the rest.”

“We’re still on board,” Zayan promises. He doesn’t hold out his hand to shake; instead, he gets back to work, the best proof he could offer that the two of them intend to stay with the Persephone—and to learn to understand just what and who Abel really is.

Docking keeps most of them occupied during the next 4.9 minutes. As Zayan brings the ship toward the Katara’s massive bay, Abel’s sharp ears cannot help picking up the quiet conversation between Ephraim and Noemi, when she tells him what became of Riko Watanabe.

“It didn’t have to end like that,” he whispers, more to himself than to Noemi. “I tried to tell her there were other ways to fight. Other ways to live. She wouldn’t listen. No—that’s not right. Riko listened, but she couldn’t hear me, not really.”

This would be a natural segue for Noemi to mention Riko’s doubts at the very end of her life. But she doesn’t. She says only, “She wasn’t in pain for long, and she died bravely.”

From what Abel can see via his peripheral vision, this information comforts Ephraim. Learning of Riko’s doubts would probably have had the opposite effect. Is Noemi’s omission kindness or dishonesty? The two are not as different as Abel has often assumed.

The Katara is shaped much like its namesake, an ancient push-dagger of South Asia: a long, pointed prow in front of a squared-off stern. Its decoration is modest for a Vagabond ship, with only a few black and brown stripes painted along the sides of its dark gold hull. Its grandeur is in its scale, which becomes even more apparent when they enter its docking bay. This space alone is larger than the average spacedock on a planet, much less anything Abel would have anticipated within another ship.

The meeting room isn’t much smaller. It appears to be a cargo hold, one with a catwalk high above the floor. While the majority of the attendees crowd in down below, a handful of individuals have taken their place above. These will be the ones most interested in asserting power. Abel, Noemi, and Ephraim exchange glances before climbing the ladder, claiming their own positions of authority.

Body language alone tells Abel who the captain is, but they walk up to her for introductions anyway: female-presenting, of Northern European ancestry, with a weak chin, shoulder-length blond hair, and exceptionally wide-set green eyes. She seems to recognize them as well, or at least their right to present themselves to her.

“Dagmar Krall,” she says. “Captain of the Katara, leader of the Krall Consortium. And… your host.”

“Any Vagabond knows of Dagmar Krall,” Abel replies, an answer crafted to sound more complimentary than it actually is. He respects this woman’s intelligence, but remains aware of her potential viciousness. “I am Abel, captain of the Persephone, and this is Noemi Vidal, a soldier of Genesis and the person most responsible for calling us together.”

Krall nods, gesturing for a sound module. Noemi leans closer to Abel. “What do you mean, ‘most responsible’? You called Ephraim and Remedy. Harriet and Zayan called the Vagabonds—I was either trapped in a force field or in a shipwreck the whole time.”

“During your captivity, you used your few moments of communication to summon help for Genesis,” Abel points out. “You thought you were sacrificing your life by doing so. Everything else that has happened flows from your action in that moment. The rest of us have done our parts, but you’re the one who set this in motion.”

His gesture takes in the crowds beneath them, the armada around them.

“Hear and obey!” Dagmar Krall calls through the module. This is a standard Consortium greeting from a captain, not quite as severe as it first sounds. An expectant hush falls. “We have gathered in response to biological warfare against planet Genesis. We’ve accepted Earth’s injustice and tyranny for decades—near on a century, now—but a crime like this cannot go unpunished. If it does, we can never again expect safety, or freedom.”

The speech is stirring. Krall’s rhetorical skills are strong. But Abel doesn’t lose sight of the fact that Krall has never shown herself to be a protector of the innocent. Her hatred of Earth is honest, but she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t also have something to gain.

“What proof do we have that any of this is really happening?” calls someone from below.

Krall swivels the sound module over to Noemi, who doesn’t hesitate. “I’m a soldier of Genesis, sent through the Gate to help my world. That this is Earth’s work was verified by Burton Mansfield himself, shortly before his death.”

Someone on the catwalk mutters, almost below Abel’s range of hearing, “When did he die? Thought it was a long time ago—”

“If you’re asking for solid evidence,” Noemi continues, “no, I can’t show you that right now. Genesis sent me to negotiate with people on Earth who knew exactly what they’d done; I didn’t know I’d have to offer evidence. But if you’ll come through the Genesis Gate—either with a few scouts or as an entire fleet—you’ll have all the proof you need.”

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