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“The animals do not like me,” Kell said as Brooks came in.
“They’re called dogs,” Brooks supplied.
“I do not care,” Kell replied.
Brooks was caught off-guard by that, but there was no vehemence in the Ambassador’s voice; just a factual statement. He honestly did not care.
“Do animals often react like that to you?” he asked. “I have heard stories, but I was not sure.”
“Sometimes,” Kell answered. “If I am not paying attention.”
“Does that mean you can suppress . . . whatever it is about yourself that bothers them?”
Kell seemed more dour to be answering questions. “If I wish to.”
“Can you do that with humans as well?”
“It is more difficult,” Kell replied.
But it implied a yes. Brooks was thinking on that, when Kell spoke.
“I have a question for you, Captain. I do not trust anyone else’s answer.”
That piqued his curiosity. “Go ahead, Ambassador. If I can answer it, I will be happy to.”
“You have told me that we are heading into a potential battle.”
“I wouldn’t say we expect it,” Brooks said. “But it is possible. The Mopu System is a warzone between two Hev factions.”
“I was under the impression that such a hypothetical battle would be of a nature of . . . this vessel against other vessels.”
“That is also true,” Brooks said. “Over the vast distances of space-“
“Why, then, are practices for combat on the ship taking place?” Kell demanded.
As he was interrupted, Brooks felt annoyed. The Ambassador was going to be particularly difficult today, it seemed.
“There is a possibility,” he explained. “That we could be boarded. In which case the Response Teams and Citizen Volunteers will serve to repel them.”
Kell leaned forward, his eyes piercing, and Brooks found his own stinging. As if he had more of the being’s attention than he normally did. It was intense and uncomfortable.
“Then may I kill?”
Brooks stared at Kell for a long moment.
“Ambassador, I am not sure that I understand your question,” he said. “You . . . are aware that murder is a crime, yes?”
“Yes,” Kell said. “But given that I am a diplomat, if my life – or others around me – have their lives threatened, am I permitted to kill? If, perchance, a boarding took place? For I understand that we are going under a flag of diplomacy. But if we are attacked, this is broken, yes?”
“Are you seriously asking me this?” Brooks asked.
“I am.”
“If your life is threatened, then you may defend yourself.”
“And others around me?”
“. . . I recall that you said you were a soldier of some sort, Kell. But I do not wish you to be involved in any combat if the ship should be attacked, unless you have no other choice.”
“But under the right circumstances it is permissible, despite my diplomatic rank?”
“. . . Yes, it is,” Brooks conceded. “But you are an ambassador, and it is of great importance that we keep you safe-“
Kell nodded. “That is all I needed to understand. Thank you for your time.”
He rose, turning.
“Wait, Ambassador,” Brooks said, standing up as well. “I have to impress upon you just how serious a matter this is.”
Kell gave him a look that nearly had contempt in it. “I feel that I understand life and death in a more meaningful way than you do, Captain.”
“Nevertheless,” Brooks continued. “I am telling you directly to avoid any and all dangerous situations if at all possible. I do not want to hear that you walked into a live-fire situation.”
Another expression went over Kell’s face, and Brooks had to wonder if the Shoggoth always truly controlled them with intent, or if sometimes his true feelings showed.
Because Kell looked amused.
“Is that an order, Captain?” Kell asked. His voice had no mocking in it, it was only a serious question.
“Do I need to make it one?” Brooks asked in return.
“I will tell you this, Captain; I will do my duty,” Kell said, his eyes narrowing, focusing on Brooks.
And again, the Captain felt he actually, truly, had the attention of the being. That at most other times, he was getting the equivalent of an absent-minded answer.
Kell’s words could be taken as an agreement, Brooks thought. He could say as much on a report, at least, and without context it might be accepted as that.
But he knew it was not.
He should tell the being to clarify the statement, to order him to avoid danger if it was possible. But Brooks knew, on some level, that Kell would not do so, and if pressed he would not lie, either.
So they’d be at an impasse that dictated very clear actions on Brooks’s part.
Was this where he wanted to dig in and have it out with the Ambassador on orders and chain of command? To bring him to heel – if he could even do that.
He took a deep breath.
It was not.
“Ambassador, I know that you are used to doing things in your own time, in your own way, without the input of others – and that you still wish to behave this way.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at the Ambassador. “But if you disregard what I have said, you face the real danger of dying.”
Kell’s face changed subtly, but Brooks could not read it. At least – it made no sense. If anything, Kell looked excited.
“Very well,” he replied.
He turned to leave, but Brooks spoke again.
“Kell, have you killed a human before?”
He recalled Pirra’s report of Kell’s arrival when she and Cenz were surrounded by a kill squad on New Vitriol. She had seen nothing but corpses after the fact; but Kell had been the only being there alive afterward.
It seemed obvious. Yet he did not know how Kell could have killed a dozen men . . .
Kell turned back and studied him. “You wonder if I have taken a human life in the millions of years I have existed alongside your kind?”
“Let me re-phrase; have you killed a human since you became a diplomat?”
Kell smiled then, and it chilled Brooks to the bone. He felt a sweat break out on his brow.
“Good day, Captain,” Kell said simply, and stepped out the door.
Other Terrestrial 