The Human Division #10: This Must Be the Place Read Online Free Page B

Isabel, Hart, Catherine, Wes and Brandt and their spouses. The children were sequestered away in the next room, on low tables, and were busy throwing peas and rolls at one another while the nannies vainly tried to keep control.
    “I’ll give the toast,” Alastair said.
    “You give the toast every year,” Isabel said. “And your toasts are boring, dear. Too long and too full of politics.”
    “It’s the family business,” Alastair said. “It’s a family dinner. What else should we talk about?”
    “And besides which, you’re still bitter about the election, and I don’t want hear about it tonight,” Isabel said. “So no toast from you.”
    “I’ll give the toast,” Brandt said.
    “Oh, hell, no,” Alastair said.
    “Alastair,” Isabel said, admonishingly.
    “You thought my toast was going to be long and boring and full of politics,” Alastair said. “The gloater in chief here will positively outstrip your expectations of me.”
    “Dad does have a point,” Catherine said.
    “Then you say it, dear,” Isabel said to her.
    “Indeed,” Brandt said, clearly a little hurt at having his toast proposal rebuffed. “Regale us with tales of the people you’ve met and crushed in the last year.”
    “The hell with this,” Wes said, and reached for the mashed potatoes.
    “Wes,” Isabel said.
    “What?” Wes said, spooning out a heap of potatoes. “By the time you figure out who’s toasting what, everything will be dry and cold. I have too much respect for Madga’s work for that.”
    “I’ll make the toast,” Hart said.
    “Ho!” Brandt said. “This is a first.”
    “Quiet, Brandt,” Isabel said, and turned her attention to her youngest. “Go ahead, dear.”
    Hart stood, picked up his glass of wine and looked over the table.
    “Every year, whoever makes the toast gets to talk about the events in their life from the last year,” Hart said. “Well, I have to say this has been an eventful year. I got spit on by aliens as part of a diplomatic negotiation. My ship was attacked with a missile and almost blew up around me. I got a human head delivered to me by an alien as part of another, entirely different negotiation. And, as you all recently learned, I helped zap a dog into unconsciousness as part of a third negotiation. All the while living day to day in a ship that’s the oldest one in service, sleeping in a bunk that’s barely wide enough for me, rooming with a guy who is either snoring or passing gas most of the night.
    “If you think about it, it’s a ridiculous way to live. It really is. And, as has also been pointed out to me recently, it’s a way that doesn’t seem to hold much of a future for me, assigned as I am to a low-ranking ambassador who has had to fight her way to the sorts of missions that more exalted diplomats would turn down as a waste of their talents and abilities. It does make you wonder why I do it. Why I have done it.
    “And then I remember why I do it. Because as strange, and exhausting, and enervating, and, yes, even humiliating as it can be, at the end of the day, when everything goes right, it’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. Ever. I stand there and I can’t believe that I’ve been part of a group who meets with people who are not human but can still reason, and that we’ve reasoned together, and through that reason have agreed to live together, without killing each other or demanding more of the other than what each of us needs from the other.
    “And it’s happening at a time in our history that’s never been more critical to humanity. We are out here, all of us, without the sort of protection and growth that Earth has always provided us before. And because of that, every negotiation, every agreement, every action we take—even those of us on the bottom rung of the diplomatic service—makes a difference for the future of humanity. For the future of this planet and every planet like it. For the future of everyone at this table.
    “I love