Page 63 of Meat

She realized it did not matter.

Moral judgements were a luxury. A luxury that had been stripped of her when her own people had shipped her to this planet like a cow for the slaughter.

If they were going to treat her like an animal, then she would behave like one.

Survival.

That’s what it all came down to now. And if Alyx had learned one thing over the past year, it was that she was a survivor.

She had reasons to survive now. Nine of them, huddled around, looking up at her with their little blinking eyes. Nine, and that was just the beginning. Alyx had no doubt there would be more. Many, many more. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her children. No lengths to which she would not go.

And when it came to survival, she had help as well.

Her three dominant mates drew closer, Krogg, Ravnar, and Jale, walling her in between their protective bodies. She felt so secure and safe in their midst. And she felt so happy surrounded by her little children.

The coming years would not be easy, but they would get through it together, as a family, as a tribe, as a species.

They would survive.

They would thrive.

They would prevail.

EPILOGUE

sixty-five cycles later

The chamber they had prepared for the negotiation was large, rectangular, and cold. Its walls were hung with heavy curtains the color of wine or of blood. The floor was similarly covered with rugs, and the high ceiling disappeared into murky shadows above. Only a handful of the overhead spotlights were turned on, illuminating the round table in the center of the room where the representatives sat and waited. Two factions were present already, the nith and the Earthlings. They were impatiently waiting on the third—the ukkur, who were presently arriving.

The old woman was at the head of the group. She entered the room at an unhurried pace. Her body was draped in simple robes of animal hide, and a hood framed her deeply wrinkled face and iron gray hair. Her only ornament was a weathered necklace with a pendant of raw pink crystal twined in copper.

She looked so tiny amid her entourage of ukkur warriors. Her three old mates—one white-bearded, one stone bald, and one with a silvered mohawk—stuck close to her like protective bodyguards. The other younger warriors followed behind.

As they reached the table, the ukkur delegation fanned out. They did not take their seats immediately. They waited for the old woman. She stood for a moment, surveying the other delegates who were already seated.

The nith seemed nervous. Did they realize what this room was? They should. They were the ones who had built it, after all. But if these nith suspected the trap, they made no move to escape. Perhaps they were resigned to their fate? Who could say?

Or perhaps the nith were merely unsettled by the old woman’s presence. They had many names for her in their language.

Heart Devourer.

Blood Drinker.

Butcher.

The last was her favorite. It carried a certain flavor of irony about it, and that pleased her immensely.

“It’s about time you showed up,” a petulant voice said from the other side of the table.

Now the old woman turned her cold gaze in that direction, where the human delegation was seated.

They were the top leaders of Earth’s global government, the chancellor, vice-chancellor, generals, and other members of the standing politburo, as well as a handful of lesser functionaries, all of them dressed in perfectly tailored blue and black and gray suits, pristine white shirts, silk ties of various hues.

Old men whose time had come, though they did not realize it yet.

They thought they were here to negotiate.

What had started sixty-five cycles earlier as a small ukkur insurrection had rapidly transitioned into an all-out war. By the time Earth’s military became involved in the conflict, the numbers of the ukkur had already grown too great to be contended with. The Earthlings and the nith went from being allies to enemies, which only made things easier for the ukkur. Divide and conquer.