"But not impossible."
"Yes. There's a chance. And on the strength of that chance, you want to get rid of the fleet?"
"The fleet is being sent to destroy Lusitania whether we control the descolada virus or not."
"And I say it again--the motive of the senders is irrelevant. No matter what the reason, the destruction of Lusitania may be the only sure protection for all the rest of humanity."
"And I say you're wrong."
"You're Demosthenes, aren't you? Andrew said you were."
"Yes."
"So you thought up the Hierarchy of Foreignness. Utlannings are Strangers from our own world. Framlings are strangers of our own species, but from another world. Ramen are strangers of another species, but capable of communication with us, capable of co-existence with humanity. Last are varelse--and what are they?"
"The pequeninos are not varelse. Neither is the hive queen."
"But the descolada is. Varelse. An alien life form that's capable of destroying all of humanity . . ."
"Unless we can tame it . . ."
". . . Yet which we cannot possibly communicate with, an alien species that we cannot live with. You're the one who said that in that case war is unavoidable. If an alien species seems bent on destroying us and we can't communicate with them, can't understand them, if there's no possibility of turning them away from their course peacefully, then we are justified in any action necessary to save ourselves, including the complete destruction of the other species."
"Yes," said Valentine.
"But what if we must destroy the descolada, and yet we can't destroy the descolada without also destroying every living pequenino, the hive queen, and every human being on Lusitania?"
To Miro's surprise, Valentine's eyes were awash with tears. "So this is what you have become."
Miro was confused. "When did this conversation become a discussion of me?"
"You've done all this thinking, you've seen all the possibilities for the future--good ones and bad ones alike--and yet the only one that you're willing to believe in, the imagined future that you seize upon as the foundation for all your moral judgments, is the only future in which everyone that you and I have ever loved and everything we've ever hoped for must be obliterated."
"I didn't say I liked that future--"
"I didn't say you liked it either," said Valentine. "I said that's the future you choose to prepare for. But I don't. I choose to live in a universe that has some hope in it. I choose to live in a universe where your mother and sister will find a way to contain the descolada, a universe in which Starways Congress can be reformed or replaced, a universe in which there is neither the power nor the will to destroy an entire species."
"What if you're wrong?"
"Then I'll still have plenty of time to despair before I die. But you--do you seek out every opportunity to despair? I can understand the impulse that might lead to that. Andrew tells me you were a handsome man--you still are, you know--and that losing the full use of your body has hurt you deeply. But other people have lost more than you have without getting such a black-hearted vision of the world."
"This is your analysis of me?" asked Miro. "We've known each other half an hour, and now you understand everything about me?"
"I know that this is the most depressing conversation I've ever had in my life."
"And so you assume that it's because I am crippled. Well, let me tell you something, Valentine Wiggin. I hope the same things you hope. I even hope that someday I'll get more of my body back again. If I didn't have hope I'd be dead. The things I told you just now aren't because I despair. I said all that because these things are possible. And because they're possible we have to think of them so they don't surprise us later. We have to think of them so that if the worst does come, we'll already know how to live in that universe."
Valentine seemed to be studying his face; he felt her gaze on him as an almost palpable thing, like a faint tickling under the skin, inside his brain. "Yes," she said.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, my husband and I will move over here and live on your ship." She got up from her seat and started toward the corridor leading back to the tube.
"Why did you decide that?"
"Because it's too crowded on our ship. And because you are definitely worth talking to. And not just to get material for the essays I have to write."
"Oh, so I passed your test?"