Starsight

Cuna’s eyes bulged practically out of their head as they stared at me. Then they bared their teeth, shying back. “What?” they demanded. “What is this?”

“I was never Alanik,” I said. “I took her place after she crashed on my planet.” Then I stuck out my hand. “My name is Spensa. You said you were waiting to hold out your hand to a human, in peace. Well . . . here I am.”

It might have been the craziest thing I’d ever done. Honestly, I’m not sure I could explain why I did it. I’d just realized that I couldn’t necessarily trust my gut when it came to aliens—their habits, expressions, and mannerisms wouldn’t match my expectations.

This was different though. This wasn’t me reacting by instinct to something an alien did. This was a choice. If there was even a chance that Cuna was sincere, it could mean an end to the war. It could mean safety for my people.

I wasn’t certain if this was what the heroes from Gran-Gran’s stories would have done. But it was what I did. In that moment. Taking that risk.

Accepting that hope.

Cuna—though they leaned back at the same time—took my hand in theirs. I guessed that part of them reviled the idea of touching me. Still, they did force themself to do it. Cuna might use terms like lesser species, but I believed that they were sincerely trying.

They looked at me closer, still holding on to my hand. “How? I don’t understand.”

“Holograms,” I said. “A portable one in my bracelet.”

“We don’t have technology to create a projector so small!” Cuna said. “But it was rumored that . . . that the humans did, during the first war. During their alliance with the figments. Amazing. The communications from Alanik’s home planet . . . Do they know about you?”

“I told them, but I don’t know that they believe me. I’ve mostly been stalling them.”

“Amazing,” Cuna repeated. “You mustn’t show anyone else! It could be a disaster.” They pulled their hand back and—it seemed unconsciously—wiped it on their robes. I tried not to be offended.

“You are from the shell planet?” Cuna asked. “With the defensive platforms?”

“Detritus,” I said. “Yeah.”

“I fought for you until I was hoarse,” Cuna said. “In the closed senate meetings, when there were arguments for extermination. I didn’t believe . . . You’re standing here, talking to me? Amazing! You’ve been on Starsight for weeks! Have you . . . um, have you . . . killed anyone? By accident, I mean?”

“No,” I said. “We’re really not like that. Mostly, I’ve spent my time here trying to figure out which of the seventeen restrooms I’m supposed to use. Do you know how confusing that can be without some instructions?”

Cuna drew their lips to a line. I smiled back.

They walked around me. “Truly spectacular. We have watched you all these years, but know so little. The interference those platforms cause, you see. Still . . . we blasted you into what was practically a stone age, and less than a century later you already have hyperdrives again. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or intimidated.”

“Right now, let’s call it a draw,” I said. I touched my bracelet, turning my hologram back on so I looked like Alanik again. “Cuna, Winzik is crazier than you think. Brade told me some of his plans—they’re trying to recruit Alanik to join some kind of secret cytonic group they have. They think they can control the delvers.”

“Surely you exaggerate,” Cuna said. “The program we’ve developed uses a weapon to distract delvers. Our analysis proves that if they go too long in our realm without consuming a planet, they eventually fade. What we will try to do is not so much control them as keep them distracted from population centers long enough that they leave us.”

“Yeah, well, there’s more,” I said. “You’re not the only one worried about the Superiority losing control once everyone knows about hyperdrive slugs. Winzik plans to use the threat of a delver attack to keep everyone in line.”

Cuna bared their teeth. “If this is true,” they said, “then I have a great deal more work to do. But you needn’t worry. Our program is just in the beginning stages. I will search for the truth, and move to counter Winzik’s political aspirations. He is not so powerful yet that he cannot be stopped.”

“All right. I’ll see what I can do to get the ‘human scourge’ to back down.”

“I can’t let you take that drone.”

“At least let me take the sensor unit I installed,” I said. “My ship needs that.” I looked to Cuna. “Please, let me go, Cuna. I’ll fly back to Detritus and persuade my people that someone among the Krell is willing to talk about peace. I think they’ll listen. What would happen to Winzik’s power if suddenly his department wasn’t needed? What if the human scourge became an ally to the Superiority, instead of an enemy?”

“There is a long way to go for that to happen,” Cuna said. “But . . . yes, I can imagine it. A deal then, between you and me.” Cuna hesitated, then put their hand out toward me again. “Or, a deal to perhaps make a deal.”