Page 7 of Cozy Prisons
He was burning to ask her questions about what he saw before she fainted, but needed to do it carefully.
They didn’t talk as she ate. When she finally sat back and gave him a satisfied smile, he judged that she was finished.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Much,” she agreed. “I guess I was hungrier than I realized.”
“Do you think that’s why you felt dizzy earlier?” he pressed.
Her smile turned brittle. “Probably. You know us humans, always having fits for all kinds of trivial reasons.”
“I don’t think that’s true at all,” he countered. “I know I’ve only been here for forty rotations, but the humans on Arise are quick to help and slow to complain.”
She gave him a surprised look before covering it with her standard non-committal smile. He noticed she did that a lot. It was the smile she gave many Talins, and it never reached her eyes.
“If you knew what our life was like on Dandilow II you know the work we do here seems easy,” she answered.
“Everyone here knows how dangerous and difficult it was for you and your friends on Dandilow II. Most of the Talins here think that you were lucky to survive.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t think we were lucky?”
“I think you worked and fought for your survival. There was no luck involved."
Her eyes widened briefly before she gave him a genuine smile. “You’re unusual. The others constantly tell us to stop for the day or work only every other day. They think we’re weak.”
“They are mistaking size for strength," Daxus said. “Many Talins do.”
Her smile disappeared, replaced with a look of interest. “Size is strength, isn’t it?”
He reached out slowly to take her hand then curled all the fingers under until only her first finger was extended. She gave him a quizzical look but didn’t stop him or pull away. Her hand felt small and fragile in his grip, but he knew better. These humans had far more grit than most Talins gave them credit for.
“With this finger, you could kill everyone in this room,” he said. “You could destroy fleets, eradicate planets, and even end entire civilizations. With this finger, you have the same power to fire a weapon or launch destruction drones. Size means very little when we look at the bigger picture.”
She snorted. “Sure, I could use tech as well as you, but you’re forgetting one important thing. There is no human empire with stockpiles of weapons or drones. There isn’t even a cohesive human government.”
“That’s true, but you humans did something most species never could,” he countered, reluctantly letting go of her hand when she tugged. “You survived despite overwhelming adversity. When the Niknom homeworld was destroyed, they all died too. They were a species with advanced space flight, like humans, and even more importantly, a fully colonized secondary, self-sustaining planet. But without their homeworld, they sank into chaos, and I don't think any of them survived.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’ve never heard of the Niknom. If they had a colony planet, they should’ve been fine. Well, not fine, but better off than we humans. We only had colonies on planets that couldn’t survive without help from Earth.”
“Without their leadership and access to the sacred sights on their homeworld, they fell apart,” he explained. “Nihilist cults formed that insisted everyone end their lives. Some of the cults told their followers that it would force the universe to restart and bring everyone back. Others said it would transport them to a parallel universe where their planet was still whole. In the end, it didn’t matter because the end result was the same, death.”
“The entire remaining population couldn't have thought that way,” Nataly argued. “There had to be a few who realized the truth.”
“Some didn’t agree, but it was believed they all had to die before anything could renew or restart. Dedicated cult members hunted down every member of their species before ending their own lives. It took about twenty solars, but by the end, there wasn’t a single Niknom alive in the universe. There are a few hybrid individuals who were spared, but that’s it.”
“And why are you telling me this super-depressing story?” she asked, frowning up at him.
“I’m proving a point. Humans lost their homeworld but didn’t let that stop them. Your kind lives scattered among other species, managing to form communities and survive despite the odds. That’s not a trait of the weak.”
“Maybe we’re just stubborn,” she said.
She wasn’t smiling, but he could tell his words pleased her.
“You would need to be stubborn, but also clever, cooperative, and adaptable. You are one of the smallest sapient species in the universe, but that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you triumphant against the odds.”
“Do you really think that?” she asked, her shoulders going back a little as she straightened her spine as if to display all the qualities he’d listed.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it,” he answered, sounding a comforting rumble. “That's why I know there had to be more wrong earlier than what you told Falkilm. When I first saw you, you were standing too stiffly and looked panicked. It was as if you were facing down a fearsome beast.”
