“Who is she?”
“She’s the politician no one has ever voted for, that runs the UN like her own personal fiefdom and keeps her name out of the press. The fact that she controls your home government and you’ve never heard of her means she’s very, very good.”
“Oh,” Anna said. She was not a political creature. She felt that politics was the second most evil thing humanity had ever invented, just after lutefisk.
There was another long silence. Anna wondered where Tilly was, and if she’d show up and rescue her from the awkwardness of the moment.
“You backed the right horse,” Cortez finally said. “I picked a bad one. I hope you won’t hold that against me. I’ve grown to respect you a great deal, in spite of our differences. I wouldn’t like it if you hated me.”
“I don’t, Hector,” Anna said, taking his hand in both of hers and squeezing it. “Not at all. It was terrible, what we all went through. We all made bad decisions because we were afraid. But you’re a good man. I believe that.”
Cortez gave her a grateful smile and patted her hand. Anna nodded her head at the star field splashed across the wall.
“So many stars,” she said. “Some of them might be ours someday.”
“I wonder,” Hector replied, his voice low and sad. “I wonder if we should have them. God gave man the Earth. He never promised him the stars. I wonder if He’ll follow us out there.”
Anna squeezed his hand again, and then let it go. “The God I believe in is bigger than all of this. Nothing we ever learn can be an attack on Him as long as that’s true.”
Cortez gave a noncommittal grunt.
“I want her to have them,” she said, pointing at the spray of light around her. “My little Nami, I want her to have all of that someday.”
“Whatever she finds out there,” Cortez said, “just remember it’s the future you chose for her.”
His words were full of hope and threat.
Like the stars.