Only Human (Themis Files, #3)(52)
I’m a scientist. I find beauty in absolutes. I love the clarity of math, its unwavering dependability. Math will never say one thing and do another one. It will never harm you on purpose because its only purpose is truth. On Esat Ekt, I found that same clarity, that perspicuity, that is so lacking in people on Earth. I found it not because it was there but because I was searching for it. I saw faces in the clouds. I found what I was looking for here because I brought it with me. I know that now. I also know I’m a hypocrite. I marveled at their idealism, applauded them for not wanting to share knowledge with us, but I lied to them to get them to teach me. I lied to them to try to save Eugene. I admired their principles so long as they didn’t apply to me.
Eugene passed away last night, and when he did, there was nothing gained, nothing achieved. He just died. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t mean anything. The universe will go on without him as it would have with him. The Ekt will see his death as nature following its course. They won’t rejoice. They won’t pat themselves on the back for letting him die. There is no malice in them. They watched Eugene die with humility and respect, like we watch the leaves turn to red in the fall. They choose to see the world in a way that gives their life meaning. They choose. It is a choice.
What do I choose?
There was a church across from my apartment in Chicago. In the summer, I would watch through the window while grooms greeted their guests at the door. I watched newlyweds leave while everyone cheered. Some left me indifferent and lost my interest before they made it down the steps. Some didn’t. The way they smiled or looked at each other. That ignorant bliss, or the moment of doubt when they thought no one was watching. I wondered what their life would be like, and I wished with all my heart it would be a good one. It felt…intimate somehow, sharing these precious moments with complete strangers. But it wasn’t. I watched through the window. It never occurred to me to get out of my apartment and wish them luck in person. It would have been presumptuous. It was their wedding. I wasn’t invited, and I didn’t want to be.
That is the way of the Ekt. I only now truly understand it. They watch other worlds through a window. Eugene’s death was unfortunate—the bride falling down the stairs—but it wasn’t their place to save him. It would have been presumptuous. I can’t bring myself to hate them. There is a certain nobility to the way they look at things. Only this time, I was there. I was invited. I couldn’t watch my friend die because there was no window to watch it through, and I couldn’t bear the reality of it. I lost my friend. I hurt, and that hurt is as real as anything I’ve seen or touched. There is no objectivity. Everything is perspective.
What does a man’s life amount to? What does the life of a thousand, a billion? What is an ant’s life worth? I see now that the answer is irrelevant. It’s the question that matters. Should the ant let itself die, crushed under the weight of its own insignificance? Or should it live, fight giants, and build magnificent cities underground?
What do I choose?
FILE NO. EE255—PERSONAL FILE FROM ESAT EKT
Interview between Dr. Rose Franklin and Vincent Couture
Location: Assigned residence, Etyakt region
—Rose! I didn’t expect to see you. How are you holding up?
—I’ll do it.
—Do w—
—Don’t talk, Vincent. Just listen. Six years ago, you told me that the only thing that mattered to you was getting Eva back to Earth.
—I remember that.
—You said you didn’t care what happened to me, or to anyone else— —I—
—I said don’t talk. I just want to know if you meant what you said back then. Because if you did, I’m in. I’ll make that deal with you right now. We get her home, no matter what the cost. I need that part to be very clear.
—Whatever it takes.
—Do we have a deal?
—We do.
—…Vincent?
—What is it, Rose?
—I love you and Eva with all my heart. I hope you know that.
—I do, Rose. We both do.
—Good…
FILE NO. 2171
MISSION LOG—VINCENT COUTURE AND SERGEANT ALEXANDER VASILIEV
Location: One hundred miles north of Chatanga, Siberia, Russia —Where are we?
—In Siberia, Alex. We’re in Siberia.
—It’s cold in Siberia. Why are we here?
—Because it’s your birthday, and there’s absolutely no one anywhere within a hundred miles. There’s nothing but rocks and snow from here on end. Do you know what that means?
—We can shoot at things?
—Yes, Alex. We can!
—We can shoot at things!
—We can have sword fights with giant boulders. We can slide on our shield—I’ve never done that myself. We should definitely try that. But first, we need to practice getting up a few times, so I’m just gonna let myself fall— —Not on our back! No! Not the back again! AAAAGH! I hate you.
—Then let’s get up as fast as we can so we can have some fun.
—We cannot get up lying on our back. You told me fifty times we cannot get up from our back. You said you were never able to do it. We need to roll over first.
—I know what I said, Alex. I’m telling you we can do this. I know we can. Put your hands on the ground. Higher. I’m folding my legs. That’s as far as I can go. Push up with your elbows and move your butt forward. Now bend forward…And PUSH! PUSH! PUSH! And…