Chapter 168: (Nemta) (2/2)
Friend Terry nodded, carefully sitting down. He seemed relieved that the chair would hold his weight.
”You had a rough couple of days, kid,” Friend Terry said.
Nemta shrugged, holding his hands up in resignation. ”I do not remember. My body remembers through aches, but my mind does not.”
”Detoxing sucks,” Friend Terry chuckled. When he saw Nemta's confused expression he shook his head and smiled. ”That means that going through what you went through is a terrible experience.”
”Oh, yes,” Nemta said.
Friend Terry sat silent for a long moment then spoke up. ”Listen, kid, I realize you weren't in good shape, which I hadn't noticed, when we talked last time, but we need to talk again.”
”About what?” Nemta asked.
”What you plan on doing when we leave,” Friend Terry said.
”We talked about that?” Nemta frowned, trying to remember. He could kind of remember the conversation, but wasn't it the big mechanical snake asking him if he was going to live with his mother after he rode home on the back of a winged Terran female?
Friend Terry nodded. ”Yeah. I reminded you that you might not want to go back.”
Nemta thought. He couldn't figure out a reason not to go back.
”You took part in a pretty major battle. I pulled your ship's black box to get at the astrogration data and watched the fight. You outnumbered the Terran fleet, which was just a light Strike Force, by the way, at least two hundred to one and still got eaten for lunch,” Friend Terry said. ”Not a good look for your side.”
Nemta nodded. He could vaguely remember the battle.
”I'm going to take it a bit slower this time,” Friend Terry said. ”Do you know what the term 'disappeared' means?” Nemta nodded. ”Do you know of anyone that happened to?”
Nemta thought for a long moment. He pointed at the squeeze bottle and Friend Terry handed it to him, leaning back and waiting.
”Yes. A few times. One of them, well, he should not have been vanished,” Nemta said. When Terry asked shy Nemta looked around, still feeling slightly nervous. ”He had pointed out that the reactors in our superiority craft couldn't support battle-screens at optimum at full throttle and an upgrade would actually be more financially efficient.”
”And what happened to him?” Friend Terry asked.
”They said he washed out and killed himself,” Nemta said. ”A few weeks later there was no clue he had ever existed. At first I thought it was because, you know, Unified Military Fleet is so large and so old that perhaps his records were missing.”
Friend Terry nodded.
”You were present at a battle where more than likely only a handful of your side's ships escaped. A complete defeat where you had geometry, surprise, and numbers on your side,” Friend Terry said. Nemta nodded. ”What will happen when you go back and report on it?”
Nemta opened his mouth then closed it. He thought for a moment. ”I would be disappeared.”
”Yes,” Friend Terry nodded. ”You realize, I am bound by oath to try to protect you.”
”Wha...” Nemta started to say, then stopped. If he turns me over to my own organization and they kill me, does that mean, to his oaths, that he took part in murdering me?
”What would you suggest?” Nemta asked.
”You have friends, family?” Friend Terry asked.
Nemta shook his head. ”My species is not bound by such archaic notions as familial bonds.”
”Mm-hmm,” Friend Terry said. ”No friends?”
”Pilot is highly competitive.”
”Lover?”
Nemta shook his head. ”Authorized pleasure dome workers only.”
Friend Terry sighed. ”My suggestion is either you bail out at a neutral planet and I'll modify the logs to show I dropped you somewhere else,” Friend Terry said.
”Or?” Nemta asked after a moment.
”Or I take you all the way to Confed Space,” Friend Terry said.
Nemta shook his head. ”And be interrogated and vanished?”
Friend Terry laughed. ”I doubt you know anything about your fighter craft that the green boys don't know. I doubt you could tell Mil-Int anything they don't know. Sure, you'd probably be questioned for a couple days, then you'd be assigned a system number and released to do whatever you wanted.”
Nemta stared at him. ”Well, what would I do afterwards? I know nobody.”
Friend Terry shrugged. ”Who knows? I mean, it'd be up to you,” Friend Terry sighed. ”That's the biggest thing, the scariest thing. You can do pretty much whatever you want as long as it doesn't hurt others without their consent.”
A thought suddenly struck Nemta. ”Is that why Terrans ask for consent for them to enter? Our consent holds that much weight?”
Friend Terry nodded. ”Never forget, Friend Nemta, your consent may not be compelled or commanded, it can only be freely given. Never let anyone else tell you different.”
”What if someone does something to me without my consent? What may I do?” Nemta asked, frowning. ”Say, someone touched my genitals without my consent?”
Friend Terry chuckled. ”Then you smash them across the face with your clenched fist and take your boots to their ribs while they're down. They consented to that repercussion the minute they did that.”
”But it was a touch. Why would it consent to a beating?” Nemta asked.
Friend Terry sighed. ”That would not be 'just a touch', Friend Nemta. That would be assault. Sexual assault at that. You are allowed to defend yourself from assault with physical violence.”
Nemta thought for a moment. You must have consent, implied, given, or allowed.
After a moment Nemta nodded. ”Your laws cover consent quite a bit, do they not?”
Friend Terry nodded.
”That seems strange to me. My body is the property of the Unified Military Council and the Unified Military Forces,” Nemta said.
Friend Terry laughed. ”Same with mine. I mean, I still have some autonomy, but by and large, I pretty much traded my consent for quite a bit, but military is different,” he shook his head. ”Aren't you interested in anything?”
Nemta thought for a bit. ”What will I do if I...” he had no word for it.
”Defect,” Friend Terry said.
”If I defect. What will I do?” Nemta asked.
”Want my advice?” Friend Terry said.
Nemta almost yelled at the Terran, anger welling up. Of course I want your advice, you murderous psychopathic lemur! Why else would I ask you?
He felt a sudden pinch between his eyes as he glared at Friend Terry.
”Easy, Friend Nemta. Just relax,” Friend Terry said. ”Just breathe deep.”
It took Nemta a minute to get his anger under control.
”My apologies, I never felt anything like that before,” Nemta said softly.
”It's all right.”
”Then, yes, I would like your advice,” Nemta said.
”Then once you finish being debriefed by military intelligence, go ahead and do the Gee-Eye-Billybob Route. Go to school, get drunk, try not to pass out face down in the bushes,” Friend Terry laughed. ”Although, to be honest, you'll probably be asked to be on every Tri-Vid show ever. You'll have tons of people wanting to hear what your life was like,” Friend Terry paused for a moment. ”Actually, my advice? Hire a Public Relations Manager right as soon as you get there. Ask for... well.. man, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but... well... hire a lawyer and a PR guy.”
Nemta frowned. ”Willingly hire a Terran lawyer? I heard they eat people.”
”Only the ones that lose to them,” Friend Terry laughed.
Nemta thought for a long moment. ”If I go back, I die. If I go to a neutral planet, I'll probably be hunted down and killed. If I run to Terran space, I'm a traitor.”
”That's about it,” Friend Terry said. He pointed outside. ”The ship should be finished in a few days. Enough room for everyone. Shouldn't be more than three weeks to the first stop.”
He stood up and walked to the door. ”You don't have much time to think about it, Friend Nemta. Not as much as it feels like.”
The door whooshed open and Friend Terry stepped out.
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Nemta woke up the next morning from a dream of being told how smart and clever he was as a child by a broodcarrier.
He couldn't understand why he was crying.
Nor could he understand why he was suddenly furious at the entire world.
He was glad when Mother came in to check on him. He felt stupid, but still prayed with her.
Weirdly enough, he felt better.
Friend Terry is marooned on an alien planet and the Mad Arch-Angel TerraSol still loves him, he thought to himself, staring up at the ceiling after Mother left. Everyone else is comforted by her love.
It's just primitive superstition caused by brain damage from Precursor psychic assaults, right?
Right?