"Then what will our people think of us? What will they do to us?"
This is it, the captain told himself. He could feel blood pulsing through his temples like drumbeats. "They won't like us for what we're doing. That's a cinch. But there's no other solution. You wouldn't want the Sirians not to go, would you?"
The lieutenant slowly shook his head. "No. Of course not."
"No," chorused Fox and Garcia weakly.
The lieutenant snapped, almost accusingly, "Then we'd be exiles from our own people. They'd call us traitors."
"Who cares?" said Fox.
"I care," grumbled the lieutenant.
Captain Torkel turned to Garcia. "How do you feel about this? Would you care?"
Garcia wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I wouldn't care about that. To hell with it. But—"
"Yes?"