Eyes of Tomorrow (Duchy of Terra Book 9), Glynn Stewart [reading well .TXT] 📗

the Laians, sirs,” she told them. “They quite accidentally succeeded in starting a war after all—between the Infinite and everyone.

“Fortunately, the Infinite somehow recognized me as the person they’d first encountered…and recognized that they started shooting at me after I’d offered to communicate.”

Morgan remembered those panicked moments all too vividly—especially the one where she’d ordered dozens of her crew killed to eject a failing antimatter core and allow her engineers to fix her hyper emitters.

That nightmare would not fade from her mind anytime soon, therapy or no therapy.

“Despite everything that has come between us, the Infinite recognize that they fired first,” Morgan said quietly. “So, the Queen was prepared to make an offer. She will keep her bioforms inside the Astoroko Nebula for a time and is willing to talk. To negotiate a peace, and terms on which the Infinite could perhaps become valued neighbors.

“Do not forget that these beings lived alongside the Alava,” Morgan said. “They have concepts and science and knowledge we have never even touched upon. They have communications that can leave hyperspace. A reactionless drive unlike anything we’ve seen, with its own advantages over the interface drive.

“They have sensors and mining systems and technology unimaginable to us,” she told the officers. She didn’t even mention that the Taljzi cloner had been based on Infinite biotech. She wasn’t sure that could be duplicated without other parts of Alavan tech—or that duplicating it was remotely moral.

“They don’t need the systems we live in and could, in fact, provide us with entirely new ways to access the resources of systems we’ve regarded as worthless. There are no resources we need to conflict over.

“The entire war has been over fear—their fear of dying out and our fear of the unknown. We need to step away from that fear,” Morgan told the officers she needed to convince. “We need to look at the Infinite not with the eyes of yesterday and what we have lost but with the eyes of tomorrow and what we can gain.”

She exhaled a long breath as she ran out of steam.

“I know all of you have orders that justify moving immediately against the Infinite,” she said. “So, it falls to you to decide to wait. To wait for more information. To wait for confirmation that our governments will negotiate.

“Their only requirement has been that I accompany our first delegation,” Morgan concluded. “I feel…I hope…that the chance of the future is worth the risk.”

She laid her hands on her desk and waited.

The virtual conference was silent for a few seconds, then Tan!Shallegh snapped his beak in laughter.

“Of course, my colleagues, while we have swum the deep waters of hyperspace, my Division Lord has issued her report to the Imperium,” he noted. “My Empress and the Houses are united as one: the Imperium wishes to speak with the Infinite.

“We will not abandon our allies or our sworn oaths, and we will stand with you all to defend your worlds, but we feel that an attempt must be made at peace.”

Koh-Stan shifted, a rippling motion of eight shoulders and faces that sent atavistic shivers through Morgan’s brain.

“We Ren have not yet lost blood or iron against the Infinite,” they noted. “We will follow the desire of the Laians and the Wendira in this; it is our oaths to them that bring us here.”

Morgan wasn’t sure exactly how this conference was going to break down. Did everybody get a vote? In that case, the Imperium had just voted for peace and the Ren had recused themselves.

“I am the Voice of the Republic,” Tidirok finally said after a few seconds of silence. “There is a reason that my juniors are the Swords and Spears and Pincers of the Republic, but that our most senior officers are our Voices. We do not speak only orders, and we are charged to speak before we kill.

“I will consult with my Parliament, but while I do not believe we must always choose peace, I do believe that we must always choose to talk before we choose war.”

Every eye went to Oxtashah, and Morgan was suddenly grimly sure that unanimity was required.

“Two hundred star hives,” the Princess said softly. “Over six hundred star shields and over twelve hundred escorts. Plus the losses in Tohrohsail and in the attempt to blockade them. Twenty million Wendira and Laian dead.

“Do we forget them? Do we allow their deaths to be for nothing?”

“We have killed sentients who have been the Infinite’s brothers and leaders for fifty thousand years,” Morgan said quietly. “The Queen has lost children who have been at her right hand for longer than any of our civilizations have existed, but she offers a chance at peace.

“Please, Princess Oxtashah. We cannot bring back the dead. But we can build a future where no one joins them.”

The conference was silent, and Morgan focused her gaze on the Wendira Royal…and realized that Oxtashah had probably lost more than a cousin at Shokal. She was a Royal—and that meant she’d laid somewhere in the region of twenty thousand eggs before her career as a diplomat had begun.

Oxtashah had almost certainly lost children at Shokal, and while the Wendira Royals didn’t have the same attachment to their children as other races with smaller families, there was a connection there.

“Like you, Princess, the Queen is mother to thousands,” Morgan half-whispered. “She has seen hundreds of them die in this war and wants to save all that remain. Will you send more of your children to their death to kill hers?”

The silence that followed stretched tight. Morgan could feel the tension in the room as she watched the Wendira Princess…until suddenly, Oxtashah’s wings snapped backward in a violent unconscious gesture.

“No,” she finally answered Morgan’s question. “I will not send more children to their deaths. The eyes of the past versus the eyes of tomorrow, as you say.”

“Humans call it the ‘sunk-cost fallacy,’” Morgan told her. “Continuing on a course of action because of what we’ve already spent and lost, rather than assessing whether it’s