systems out of Network’s control, and she cut these two out of Observer. They are free. Now they can follow their own paths, choose their own destinies—
Like Mer. Like the Humans.
Sarya does not pursue the thought further, and she does not look at the huddled figures she has just freed. She grits her teeth and refuses to look away from Observer’s golden gaze. She has no idea what is right or wrong anymore, or even if those things exist, but if Right can spit in Observer’s face then Sarya the Daughter can stand here and stare into those golden eyes until—
Observer blinks.
He does it in a wave that propagates into the darkness around the single figure that Sarya is staring down. He clears His throats, in a vast ripple of moist sounds. And then with one movement, the rest of the graduates are released. They stand for a moment, rubbing arms and glancing nervously around, before slinking off into the gloom and near-silence. Observer ignores them, His every eye on Sarya.
“Is there a problem?” asks Observer.
Sarya stares at the speaker. Its small-talk tone is so far removed from what she has just seen that it takes her a moment to form a reply. “Is there a—yes, there’s a problem,” she says, made bold by drink and adrenaline. “It’s a problem that you just—you just ate a bunch of people, and you tried to eat two of my friends.”
Several Observers tap fingertips on chins. “Ah, I see what’s happening here,” one says, as if something has just been made clear. Several of Him smile. “A problem of definitions, that’s all.”
“Of definitions?” she says. “They were people, you sick—”
“Did you feel this way,” says Observer, “when you were pulling all those minds into yourself, back on the Blackstar?” His gentle smiles do not waver.
Sarya stops. She can feel her face burn in the darkness, and she’s almost sure it’s not the drink. “Okay,” she says softly. “That was…different.”
“Not at all!” says Observer. “It was just as beautiful as this evening has been.” He looks fondly down the line of His new bodies, meeting His own gaze with dozens of smiles and waves.
Sarya’s discomfort is now beginning to blossom into anger. “It. Was. Different,” she hisses. “I heard it, when You—when You ate these guys.” She waves a hand down the line, at the brand-new Observers blinking and smiling in a row. “They were people. And they begged You not to do it. And then You did it anyway, not because they wanted it but because You did.”
“I think you’re missing a very fundamental point,” says Observer, still smiling. “It doesn’t matter what they want, because they are not people. Do you ask your own blood or brain cells their opinions before using them? No, Sarya the Daughter. I am a person. They are My cells. You’ll understand this soon—why, you are nearly a person yourself!”
Sarya stands there, staring. “I am almost a person?” she says.
“Species are people; their cells are not,” says Observer. “Once upon a time, you were content to be a single cell of a person named Human. But now? Now you are something more! You have left Human behind, and you are turning into your own person, separate from Her. Should it surprise you, that your values are changing with your abilities? Only days ago, you were nothing at all. But now look at you! Now you determine the entire future of your species! You and I—why, you could almost say we’re parents!”
Sarya’s jaw drops, slowly. Her brain struggles, attempting to find words—any words—that will help her make sense of what Observer has just said.
“You sought out your species because that’s what little cells do,” says Observer. “That’s what Network counted on. But Network didn’t realize what would happen once you had grown. Now, as you begin to turn into a person, you are beginning to feel your capabilities.”
Observers begin to throw their arms in the air. “Look up there, Sarya the Daughter!” says one, pointing at the black sky. “Look at the gift you’ve given your species! No other species in the galaxy has eight hundred solar systems. No other species has even a single caretaker, thanks to the Network—and yours has two! We will raise Her together, a beautiful child with the best of two worlds: the watchful mind of Observer and the fire and fury of Sarya the Daughter!”
Sarya lifts her gaze from Observer’s golden eyes to a sky speckled with eight hundred stars.