Page 40 of Alliance
That pulled Roav from his stewing aggravation with the sharp slice of truth. He met Jharim’s five lenses, and not for the first time, Roav wondered what kind of life his partner of six years had lived before him that he could so clearly see men for what they’d lost. Their demons and despair.
His own despair, in fact.
Is that what Jharim was referencing rather than Lokurian?
Jharim broke their line of sight, returning his highest lens to the rear of his skull casing on its track, keeping an eye on the decommissioned Rosy unit still slumped against the wall after days of being in confinement. He sighed air from the vents in his neck slowly and leaned against the bars of their cell with a tilt in his hips that Roav pointedly ignored.
“You are offended,” the older biognostic observed.
Roav resumed watching Roka Lokurian, the commander’s mangled mandible catching the light.
“It must be painful to hrum with an injury like that.”
“You are offended because you think that I—”
The hydraulics in Roav’s chest whirred, the gears meting out their frustration with a metallic growl. “Why would I worry about your judgment when severingmyconnection to Unity spared you this?” Roav interrupted.
“Because I have never been with Unity, and I lied by omission. Because you told the arms master things I told you not to reveal. Brother—” Jharim leaned his head forward, imploring with open facial planes that exposed wires and resistors, silicone actuators and valves. “I absolve you of this guilt. What we are and why we’re here is not villainous. We agreed on this before accepting an invitation to Renata, or does your logic core fail you?”
“I spread lies for Councilwoman Guei.” Roav notched his chin at Roka Lokurian. “I am no different.”
“Do you regret it? Accepting her ultimatum.”
Roav’s lenses flared then went dark as his senses short-circuited. There was no malice in Jharim’s tone. The micro laser that sat at the back of Jharim’s left-most lens pulsed with quantum speech, the biognostic native language, at nearly the speed of light, an undercurrent to Jharim’s spoken words that cut Roav deep.
Do you regret saving me?
Roav could never regret it, but regret and guilt were different beasts. When humans were still an abstract, giving in to Councilwoman Guei’s demands had been easy. Hack Commander Atarian’s ship, plant evidence, volunteer for service on thePalembreto keep an eye on the human ambassador, Olivia Atarian. Easy, passive, little oversight. He had come to terms with his sacrifice and wrongdoing without struggle.
But the things he did afterwards burned his components as if doused in acid. Disposing of the dolls that lumbered into colony territory. Building the Rosy unit that had nearly killed Imani James from scraps and dead units at the crash site…
All so they wouldn’t be exposed and removed. It was self-serving and disgusting. Not because he’d done anything particularly heinous, but because Roav saw the beauty in their human contradictions and convictions now. Something Jharim had tried to convince him of for years.
Roav believed him now.
Believed it all.
Humans truly were the Muru, fertility gods of venandi lore that had the power to heal and balance. Or the power to corrupt and consume. The scale fell one way or the other depending on the forces that swayed them.
After being in Renata, Roav believed him. All these years of simply tolerating the zealous beliefs of his ancient counterpart, and here he was. One of the forces that could sway them towards the gift of healing or pain.
Liar.
Traitor.
It was obvious which fate his presence pushed them towards.
When his vision returned, he recalibrated, staring at the floor, the self-deprecating anger fizzling into a cold shiver up his wires as he remembered Jharim was waiting for an answer.
“Guei would have killed you,” he said in a hollow tone.
Another memory that made Roav wish he had the fallible processing unit of a biological body. It would be as sharp as the day it happened for the rest of his life. Jharim sprawled at the steps of the councilwoman’s office, an auto-garrote cracking through his carbon fiber neck, sawing through his fingers, components whining at a high pitch that made Roav understand what it meant to trulybleed—
Jharim pressed his palm to Roav’s chest, a quantum rhythm pulsating between their components. They synced, bit by bit, and the glitches in his vitals deck evened out.
“You didn’t answer my question, brother.”
“I don’t regret it,” Roav admitted.
