“No,” Panacea’s voice was quiet. “Um. You’re not going to kill me if I argue, are you?”
Probably depends on what you’re arguing about, I suppose.
“I’m liable to kill you if you don’t.”
Right, because then she’d be boring.
“It’s not that you see too clearly. I think your view is warped.”
“Over the course of millions of generations that led to your birth, how many of your ancestors were successful because they were cruel to others, because they lied, cheated, stole from their kin, betrayed their brothers and sisters, warred with their neighbors, killed?
How many of those were happy?
We know about Marquis, so that’s one.”
Ouch.
How many were successful because they cooperated? I wondered.
Probably quite a lot more.
Jack probably had a rebuttal to my question, but I wasn’t about to speak up to hear it, and Panacea didn’t ask. She fell silent.
I was tensed, ready to move and shoot the second an opportunity arose. Anything would suffice. Anything would do.
Careful. Don’t get too trigger happy.
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