The End of All Things: The Third Instalment

The End of All Things: The Third Instalment by John Scalzi

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Authors: John Scalzi
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shot. I dealt with it.
    You missed one, I sent to her.
    I knew he was there, she sent back. I knew you were there too.
    A Rraey appeared out the door of the command truck’s cabin. Powell shot it in the leg; it went down squawking.
    Keep a couple alive, I said.
    That depends on them, Powell sent back. She reached the truck, grabbed the squawking Rraey, and pushed it in front of her as she went through the cabin door.
    Things were quiet, at least from my point of view, for a couple of minutes afterward.
    I left a couple alive, Powell said, after those couple of minutes had passed. But you might want to hurry.
    I hurried down.
    The inside of the command truck was a mess. There were three dead Rraey in it, including the one Powell had shot in the leg. Two more Rraey were at the back of the cabin, keening. From what little I knew of Rraey physiology, they were both sporting broken limbs. Powell had stripped them of their personal electronics; the rest of the cabin’s electronics were down. Light in the cabin consisted of a couple of small emergency lights.
    “Any trouble?” I asked Powell as she entered.
    “No,” she said. “They’re not very good at close quarters.”
    “Well, that’s something,” I said.
    Powell nodded and pointed to one of the survivors. “I think that’s the one in charge,” she said. “At least that’s the one everyone tried to keep me from getting at.”
    I went over to the Rraey, who was looking up at me. I accessed my BrainPal, which had translation modules for the couple hundred species we humans had encountered the most often; the Rraey were in there. Their language contained sounds that we can’t make, but the BrainPal would pick words that suited our mouths and throats. I’d tell the BrainPal what I wanted to say and it would offer me a suitable translation.
    “Are you in charge here?” I asked the Rraey Powell had pointed out to me.
    “I will not answer your questions,” the Rraey said to me, in its language, which my BrainPal translated for me.
    “I could break something else,” Powell said. She was listening in.
    “Torture isn’t useful to get information,” I said.
    “I didn’t say anything about getting information.”
    I looked back to her. “Give me a minute here, please,” I said. Powell snorted.
    I turned back to the Rraey. “You are hurt,” I said, in its language. “Let us help you get better.”
    “We’re hurt because of that animal over there,” the Rraey said, jerking its head to Powell.
    “You are hurt because you attacked us,” I said. “You cannot attack us and expect nothing to happen in return.”
    The creature said nothing to this.
    “You are here on a planet you should not be,” I said. “Helping humans, which you should not do. You need to tell me why.”
    “I will not.”
    “We can help you. We will help you and your soldier here,” I said, pointing to the other injured Rraey. “You will not survive if you do not get help.”
    “I will gladly die.”
    “But will you ask this soldier to die too?” I said. “Have you asked this soldier what it wants?”
    “You’re doing that thing where you’re trying to be nice to someone you were just trying to kill,” Powell said. “It doesn’t work, because they remember you were trying to kill them five minutes ago.”
    “Ilse.”
    “I’m just pointing this out. Someone needs to say it.”
    I ignored her and turned back to the Rraey. “I am Lieutenant Heather Lee of the Colonial Defense Forces,” I said. “I promise you that from this point forward you will not be harmed. It’s a promise whether you help me or not. But if you help me, then I may say to my superiors that you have been useful. And they will treat you better.”
    “We know how you treat your prisoners,” the Rraey said.
    “And we know how you treat yours,” I said. “We can change things now.”
    “Kill me and get it over with,” the Rraey said.
    “I don’t want to die,” said the other Rraey.
    The first

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