fight back.
Cashlings seldom turned nasty. They were usually too lazy, vain, and petulant to take forceful action against obstacles they met. When something went wrong, they'd complain, complain, complain to other species till somebody bailed them out.
But even a race of useless idlers had some few individuals with sparks of spirit. In Zoonau, some Cashling would eventually be pushed beyond its limits, becoming so angry or upset it would stir into action.
Like trying to set Balrog spores on fire.
Or dousing them with dangerous chemicals.
Or simply smashing them with a rock, over and over and over.
Which would be understandable... but we couldn't let it happen.
Not that I feared for the Balrog's health. If it didn't want to get burned, doused, or smashed, its spores would just avoid the attack. This was a creature that could teleport... and could foresee the actions of lesser beings far in advance. The Balrog wouldn't let itself get hit unless it wanted to.
But the Cashlings of Zoonau didn't know that. Cashlings were bottomless pits of ignorance when it came to most other species. And if some Cashling tried to pummel a clump of moss, the League would regard that action as attempted homicide: deliberately intending to kill sentient Balrog spores. The Cashling responsible would be considered a dangerous nonsentient. Furthermore, the Cashling government might be in trouble for not doing its utmost to avoid such violence; the Technocracy could be accused of negligence for not helping the Cashlings; and I myself might be considered callously indifferent if I saw this mess coming and did nothing to stop it.
"How old is this footage?" I asked. "When did the Balrog attack?"
"About an hour ago."
"Do we have anything more recent?"
Cohen shook his head. "The city's internal cameras aren't broadcasting anymore."
"Probably mossed over," said Li, stating the obvious.
So the Cashlings had been trapped for an hour. And the readouts on the console in front of me said it would take another hour for Pistachio to reach Cashleen. By which time, the people of Zoonau would be getting antsy.
"We have to go in as soon as we achieve orbit," I said. "Before one of those Cashlings does something we'll regret."
"Looks like it," the captain agreed. "We're the only non-Cashling ship in the star system."
"But suppose the Balrog is punishing the Cashlings," Ubatu said. She'd finally turned back to join our conversation. "Suppose the Balrog is punishing Zoonau like it punished those Fasskisters. If the Cashlings have done something to anger the Balrog, we have to think twice about coming in on the wrong side."
Li nodded. "We don't want to get caught in the middle. Otherwise, we might find our own cities covered in moss. This is just the sort of incident that could escalate—"
"Haven't you been listening?" I shouted. "Don't you understand?"
The bridge went silent. I could almost hear the echoes of my own voice ringing from the metal walls. Li looked shocked, like a man who'd never been yelled at before. Ubatu too—as if nineteen-year-olds in her world never felt the urge to scream. Cohen lifted his hand, about to pat my arm... which would only have made me more furious. But he must have realized this was not the time to play patronizing grandfather. He let his hand fall and said, "What?"
I took a shuddering breath. "Captain Cohen. Sir. The Balrog isn't going to misunderstand our presence. The Balrog timed its arrival exactly to catch Pistachio and reel us in. You yourself said we're the only non-Cashling ship in the star system."
I looked around. Nothing but blank faces. "The Balrog wants us to come," I said. "It's been waiting precisely for this moment. It could have hit Zoonau anytime, but it held off until we were near... because it knew the Cashlings would demand help, and we'd have no choice but to get involved."
"It wants us?" Ubatu whispered. "Why?"
"We'll have to go down and ask."
"What if it's... hungry?"
I looked her in the
Cashlings seldom turned nasty. They were usually too lazy, vain, and petulant to take forceful action against obstacles they met. When something went wrong, they'd complain, complain, complain to other species till somebody bailed them out.
But even a race of useless idlers had some few individuals with sparks of spirit. In Zoonau, some Cashling would eventually be pushed beyond its limits, becoming so angry or upset it would stir into action.
Like trying to set Balrog spores on fire.
Or dousing them with dangerous chemicals.
Or simply smashing them with a rock, over and over and over.
Which would be understandable... but we couldn't let it happen.
Not that I feared for the Balrog's health. If it didn't want to get burned, doused, or smashed, its spores would just avoid the attack. This was a creature that could teleport... and could foresee the actions of lesser beings far in advance. The Balrog wouldn't let itself get hit unless it wanted to.
But the Cashlings of Zoonau didn't know that. Cashlings were bottomless pits of ignorance when it came to most other species. And if some Cashling tried to pummel a clump of moss, the League would regard that action as attempted homicide: deliberately intending to kill sentient Balrog spores. The Cashling responsible would be considered a dangerous nonsentient. Furthermore, the Cashling government might be in trouble for not doing its utmost to avoid such violence; the Technocracy could be accused of negligence for not helping the Cashlings; and I myself might be considered callously indifferent if I saw this mess coming and did nothing to stop it.
"How old is this footage?" I asked. "When did the Balrog attack?"
"About an hour ago."
"Do we have anything more recent?"
Cohen shook his head. "The city's internal cameras aren't broadcasting anymore."
"Probably mossed over," said Li, stating the obvious.
So the Cashlings had been trapped for an hour. And the readouts on the console in front of me said it would take another hour for Pistachio to reach Cashleen. By which time, the people of Zoonau would be getting antsy.
"We have to go in as soon as we achieve orbit," I said. "Before one of those Cashlings does something we'll regret."
"Looks like it," the captain agreed. "We're the only non-Cashling ship in the star system."
"But suppose the Balrog is punishing the Cashlings," Ubatu said. She'd finally turned back to join our conversation. "Suppose the Balrog is punishing Zoonau like it punished those Fasskisters. If the Cashlings have done something to anger the Balrog, we have to think twice about coming in on the wrong side."
Li nodded. "We don't want to get caught in the middle. Otherwise, we might find our own cities covered in moss. This is just the sort of incident that could escalate—"
"Haven't you been listening?" I shouted. "Don't you understand?"
The bridge went silent. I could almost hear the echoes of my own voice ringing from the metal walls. Li looked shocked, like a man who'd never been yelled at before. Ubatu too—as if nineteen-year-olds in her world never felt the urge to scream. Cohen lifted his hand, about to pat my arm... which would only have made me more furious. But he must have realized this was not the time to play patronizing grandfather. He let his hand fall and said, "What?"
I took a shuddering breath. "Captain Cohen. Sir. The Balrog isn't going to misunderstand our presence. The Balrog timed its arrival exactly to catch Pistachio and reel us in. You yourself said we're the only non-Cashling ship in the star system."
I looked around. Nothing but blank faces. "The Balrog wants us to come," I said. "It's been waiting precisely for this moment. It could have hit Zoonau anytime, but it held off until we were near... because it knew the Cashlings would demand help, and we'd have no choice but to get involved."
"It wants us?" Ubatu whispered. "Why?"
"We'll have to go down and ask."
"What if it's... hungry?"
I looked her in the
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