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“That does seem to be the only topic of the moment.” Prince Hyg walked farther into the room and folded his hands in front of him. “Time ticks away for my people, but settlement negotiations come to a stand-still because a single human child has caused an incident.”
Sazahk turned to track Prince Hyg’s progress around the room. “Dominic Turner is quite a bit more than a child.”
“Indeed.” Prince Hyg nodded and continued in a tone too calm to be scathing, though the words left little doubt to his opinions. “He is also the inventor of the weapons that punch through my people’s armor and dissolve them in their own acid, as well as the architect of a poison unleashed upon the population of half a planet inhabited mostly by individuals of his own species.”
“And he developed the technology to clear that poison from the atmosphere.” Sazahk had expected an indifference from the Insects easily overcome by rational arguments illuminating the potential usefulness of a live Dominic Turner. He hadn’t expected active disdain. “And he created the bullets to protect our sector from you when we thought you posed only a threat. He meant it as an act of defense.”
“I’m sure he did.” Prince Hyg stopped across the table that no one sat at and faced Sazahk. He swept his purple eyes over him and softened his stance. “Nam Drone informed me it was you that convinced your squad to spare my people. We owe you our lives, and for that, I will hear what you have to say about Dominic Turner.”
Sazahk licked his lips, feeling the weight of Garin’s fate on his shoulders. “I have investigated the region of Qesha known as the Dead Zone as a possible settlement location for your colony.”
“I am aware.” Prince Hyg nodded for him to continue.
“And I believe it has great potential.” Sazahk hurried on when hope glinted in Prince Hyg’s dark eyes. “But that it requires expertise and genius to realize that potential before your people succumb to whatever time pressure you’ve alluded to.”
Nam Drone gnashed her mandibles. “Is that a threat?”
Prince Hyg held up a hand. “No, Nam. It was a plea.”
Sazahk wrapped his loose thread around a finger and pulled. It was a plea, but it was more than that, too. “It was information shared to elucidate why the survival of your people and the survival of Dominic Turner?—”
“We’re here.” Patrick’s voice spoken through his tablet and into Sazahk’s implant, gave Sazahk enough warning to turn to the door on the room’s left, opposite the Insects, as Tar and Fal’ran frog marched Alistair Turner into the room with Bar’in holding a handgun to his lower back.
The Soldier hissed and opened his huge mandibles wide as acid pooled on their tips.
Prince Hyg held up a hand again to quiet his man and nodded to Patrick as he walked in the door after them. “Patrick Smith. Battalion Four. Squad M. You bring an unexpected guest.”
“‘Guest’ is hardly the correct word.” Alistair Turner tore himself free of Fal’ran and Tar’s grips when they loosened. “Victim would be more appropriate.”
While he had just been abducted from his quarters by a Klah’Eel squad, Alistair Turner still looked worse than Sazahk had expected, given his reputation. Bags hung under his hazel eyes and age lines carved through the sallow skin of his cheeks and forehead.
“Yeah, well, the victim is free to leave if he’s not interested in saving his son from being blown halfway across the sector.” Bar’in holstered his gun and waved at the door they’d come through.
“My son is a traitor who’s destroyed everything of value he’s ever built, crippled his own family, and put himself in his current situation,” Alistair spat. But he didn’t take the opening to the door.
“My, my, humans are quite cavalier about the survival of their offspring for a species that only births a handful per individual.” Prince Hyg raised an eyebrow, and Alistair scowled at him.
“What good are offspring that turn their back on their families?” Alistair lifted his chin and his upper lip.
“Well, we’ll leave you to discuss that.” Patrick jerked his head at the door, motioning for Tar, Bar’in, and Fal’ran to follow him out of it. He gave Sazahk an encouraging smile as they filed out, but it did nothing to raise Sazahk’s spirits.
The hope Prince Hyg had brought with him when he’d entered the room, then bled dry as he’d talked, dropped dead in the face of Alistair’s callousness. Sazahk had expected ambivalence from the Insects and desperation from Alistair. Instead, he was confronted with hostility from both.
Sazahk balled his fists. This wasn’t acceptable. This wasn’t rational. This was thoughtless cruelty that endangered people’s lives. He’d thought dispassionate logic was the answer to his problem, but the emotions on either side choked it out. The emotions choked even him, and he found himself shaking.
He rounded on Alistair Turner. “Does your son’s life mean nothing to you? Has he only ever been a corporate asset? Did you never see him as anything more than his intellect?”
Alistair crossed his arms. “Some corporate asset. He’s destroyed everything he’s ever done or ever was.”
Prince Hyg made an unimpressed sound in the back of his throat. “And yet here we are, discussing him at length, as, I understand, have all the other Human dignitaries here to decide upon my people’s future.” Prince Hyg motioned elegantly to the door Squad M had dragged Alistair through. “As the soldier put it, you’re free to leave if you’re not interested in saving him. But here you are.”
“As are you.” Alistair didn’t glance at the door. “You have an interest in him?”
Prince Hyg’s wings fluttered as he lifted his lip. “Not in the slightest.”
“But you should if you really prioritize the survival of your colony as you’ve claimed you do,” Sazahk jumped in, seizing on his opening. “You need him to rehabilitate the Dead Zone for habitation.”
“My people need no such thing.” Prince Hyg lifted his chin. “Our scientists are more than capable.”
