Birthright: After Earth Read Online Free Page B

“And … what
about
the living? Don’t I have a responsibility to protect them? The citizens of Nova Prime are counting on me. And if I have the ability to ghost now, then don’t I have the responsibility to use it?
    “But … then aren’t I putting the baby at risk? So what if an Ursa can’t see me? It could still get lucky. A random sweep of its stinger … and I die, and your baby dies …
    “It doesn’t even have to be an Ursa. Maybe somewhere there’s an unexploded shell with my name on it …
    “How many lives are supposed to be on my shoulders? How am I supposed to be a good mother, or any kind of mother, if it means abandoning the people who count on the Rangers? But how am I supposed to put my baby at risk? How am I—?”
    She lowered her head, put her hands in her face. Her sides shook, and she heaved agonized sobs, but her cheeks remained dry.
    “Are you all right?”
    She looked up.
    There was another woman a short distance away. Dressed in the gray uniform of someone who worked in one of the tech divisions, she was crouching in front of a grave site and laying down a batch of fresh flowers. The fair-skinned, sad-eyed woman studied Mallory with what appeared to be quiet understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?” She did not ask Mallory what specifically the “it” was. She saw an individual in pain and was clearly prepared to listen.
    Mallory didn’t move from where she was. She didn’t feel comfortable approaching. She did, however, tilt her head slightly and nod toward the grave site where the other woman was standing. “Your husband?”
    “My daughter,” replied the other woman quietly.
    “She was a Ranger?”
    The other woman nodded. “Killed by an Ursa last year.”
    “I’m so sorry.” She paused and then said, “I’m Mallory.”
    “Faia.”
    The name was vaguely familiar to Mallory, but she couldn’t quite place it. “That’s my husband,” Mallory said, pointing at Janus’s grave. “I guess we have something in common.”
    “Members of a club no one wants to belong to,” said Faia. “I’d love to tell you it gets easier as time passes. But I’d be lying. All that happens is that scar tissue builds over it. The wound still cuts just as deep.”
    “I appreciate your honesty.” She was still speaking stiffly and formally, not allowing any of her inner turmoil to show.
    There was an uneasy silence, and then Faia said, “Okay, well … it was a pleasuremeeting y—”
    “I’m pregnant,” Mallory blurted out. “And I don’t know if I should keep doing my job.” She didn’t bring up the fact that the pregnancy apparently enabled her to ghost. She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be classified, plus she wasn’t entirely sure that she herself accepted it yet.
    “Oh … my,” said Faia slowly. “That changes everything, doesn’t it?”
    “Does it?” There was desperate urgency in her voice. “That’s what I keep wondering. Whose needs are more important? This … this stranger”—she gestured angrily toward her stomach. “Or the people I’m sworn to protect? One life versus countless others? What makes this one life more important than all the others?”
    “I don’t know. I wish I knew what to tell you …”
    “This is what you can tell me.” She looked her in the eyes. “You lost a daughter. Is there anyone on this world whose life you wouldn’t trade to get your little girl back? Is there anyone whom you believe was intrinsically more worthy to live than your daughter?”
    Faia looked down, unable to keep her gaze upon Mallory. Very softly, she said, “My daughter died defending the life of her brother. And I can tell you right now: Not a day goes by when my son doesn’t just miss his sister, but also wonders why he got to live while she died. Not a single day. Anyone who tells you there’s any fairness in life is lying to you. And we look for a reason for things, and we look to ourselves and our personal failures to