"And I think you have the same instinctive desire that we all have, the one that gets us in so damn much trouble all the time," said Peter. "You know that you're going to die, and you want to see it all resolved before you do."
"I'm not old yet!" Quara said.
Miro spoke up. "He's right, Quara. Ever since Marcao died, you've had death looming over you. Think about it, everybody. Humans are the short-lived species. Hive queens think they live forever. Pequeninos have the hope of many centuries in the third life. We're the ones who are in a hurry all the time. We're the ones who are determined to make decisions without getting enough information, because we want to act now, while we still have time."
"So that's it?" said Quara. "That's your decision? Let this grave threat to all life continue to sit here hatching their plans while we watch and watch from the sky?"
"Not we," said Peter.
"No, that's right," said Quara, "you're not part of this project."
"Yes I am," said Peter. "But you're not. You're going back down to Lusitania, and Jane will never bring you back here. Not until you've spent years proving that you've got your personal bugbears under control."
"You arrogant son-of-a-bitch!" Quara cried.
"Everybody here knows that I'm right," said Peter. "You're like Lands. You're too ready to make devastatingly far-reaching decisions and then refuse to let any argument change your mind. There are plenty of people like you, Quara. But we can never let any of them anywhere near this planet until we know more. The day may come when all the sentient species reach the conclusion that the descoladores are in fact varelse who must be destroyed. But I seriously doubt any of us here, with the exception of Jane, will be alive when that day comes."
"What, you think I'll live forever?" said Jane.
"You'd better," said Peter. "Unless you and Miro can figure out how to have children who can launch starships when they grow up." Peter turned to Jane. "Can you take us home now?"
"Even as we speak," said Jane.
They opened the door. They left the ship. They stepped onto the surface of a world that was not going to be destroyed after all.
All except Quara.
"Isn't Quara coming with us?" asked Wang-mu.
"Maybe she needs to be alone for a while," said Peter.
"You go on ahead," said Wang-mu.
"You think you can deal with her?" said Peter.
"I think I can try," said Wang-mu.
He kissed her. "I was hard on her. Tell her I'm sorry."
"Maybe later you can tell her yourself," said Wang-mu.
She went back inside the starship. Quara still sat facing her terminal. The last data she had been looking at before Peter and Wang-mu arrived in the starship still hung in the air over her terminal.
"Quara," said Wang-mu.
"Go away." The husky sound of her voice was ample evidence that she had been crying.
"Everything Peter said was true," said Wang-mu.
"Is that what you came to say? Rub salt in the wound?"
"Except that he gave the human race too much credit for our slight improvement."
Quara snorted. It was almost a yes.
"Because it seems to me that he and everyone else here had already decided you were varelse. To be banished without hope of parole. Without understanding you first."
"Oh, they understand me," said Quara. "Little girl devastated by loss of brutal father whom she nevertheless loved. Still searching for father figure. Still responding to everyone else with the mindless rage she saw her father show. You think I don't know what they've decided?"