Page 52 of Mutant Mine

I sit down at the navigation panel and begin setting the new course. The Hades may be a little different to the starships that I was trained on, but the fundamentals remain the same. My fingers move confidently over the controls. The calculations flash up on the screen above me in luminous green text.

I am so focused on my task that I do not notice Rory drawing closer and peering over my shoulder.

“Wow, you really know what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks.

I finish punching in the new course, then turn to face her.

“Would you like to know what anything here does?”

Rory cranes her neck to see all the displays. Then she turns back to me. She looks overwhelmed.

“What I want to know is where you learned to do whatever the hell you just did.” Her voice is tight. Why is her voice so tight?

“What?”

“I know that government starships have tech way beyond anything civilian ships have, and I know that the space pilot program is insanely selective. The authorities would never let a political extremist in.

“I also know that you’re not a monster. You’re just not, Roth. I’ve seen you kill people, but never without a good reason. In fact, it turns out I really, really like you.”

I can only stare at her. But she is not done.

“So make it all add up for me, Roth. How did you learn to fly this thing? How can you be a good person, and a trained government pilot, and a terrorist? Whoareyou?”

Is she… crying? Not quite, but tears are gathering in her eyes, swiped briskly away as if she has no time for them.

I feel frozen. I have no idea what to say. My heart has never beaten so fast. It is like panic, like falling. Always falling, since the day I met her. But I have never told anyone…

“You said to me once that I shouldn’t trust the government — that they lied about you,” Rory says. “What did you mean?”

“I should not have told you that.”

“Well, you did.”

I rise to my feet and step towards her. She does not backaway, but looks up at me, unwavering. I know that she will not let me leave without answering her question.

There is still so much that I cannot tell her. Without being certain that we will escape, that she will not be interrogated by the authorities, it is not yet safe for her to know.

But I cannot do her the dishonor of lying to her. Not now. I must give her some piece of the truth.

I speak slowly, measuring my words:

“They were hurting people,” I say. “At Watergap.”

“Who were?”

“The government. I know you believe that it was simply an administrative office, which we targeted for an unprovoked terrorist attack. That is what they said, afterwards. But it was not. The offices were the tip of the iceberg. The real Watergap was underground.”

“Underground?”

“Yes. It was a vast subterranean facility, where prisoners were held. They were hurting people there. Torturing them.”

Rory makes a small sound.

“We just wanted to get them out. No civilians were killed — that is another lie. The only people killed that day were soldiers with guns. They knew that people were suffering inside the facility, but they did not care. They were following orders, without ever asking: is it right to do what I am being told to do?”

“That’s a tough question to ask, I guess,” says Rory. “If you really are innocent, thenIdid something evil by helping to keep you in that cell.”

I nod. “Yes. But you would not follow blindly when your commanding officer wanted you to starve me. You questioned your orders. You spoke up. You are not the same.”

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