Commodore Read Free Page B

marched ramrod-erect up and down the slave quarters with it perched atop the rest of my immaculate cadet's uniform. In fact, it was one of the happiest memories of my life. As was the time when, back at my estate, my household staff had taken advantage of the fact that I was such a sound sleeper to paint my nose bright pink. I'd left it that way all day long, pretending not to notice while my fellow Rabbits convulsed over and over again with laughter at the sight. There was nothing innately wrong with having a pink nose, of course. But on me it looked silly indeed, sort of like a clown-nose on a human since it was so clearly a mismatch for the rest of my coloration. That'd been another fine day as well— in fact, I rather suspected that Nestor had been the brushman-in-chief. "No," I had to admit finally. "I can't."
    He nodded again, then turned his reader to face me. He was reading "The Prince", by Machiavelli. "This," he declared, "is sickening. And quintessentially human."
    I nodded back, if a bit reluctantly. The old classic had been required reading for my strategy class. "I agree."
    "Any self-respecting Rabbit would declare it a kind of pornography," he continued. "And yet, I find myself agreeing with the author over and over again, in regards to humans at least." He waved the reader at me. "If you want to understand our masters, this is the best instruction manual I've found so far." His lowered the book and his face fell. "Sir… You and I… We're being dragged into a cesspool."
    I nodded again, remembering how I'd visited the Mast at the Academy one last time before upping ship to take command of Javelin . Yet again, I hadn't been able to find it in my heart to climb it. "I won't argue with you, Nestor," I replied eventually. "The older I've grown and the more responsibilities I've taken on, the worse things I've been forced to do in the name of pursuing worthy goals." I sighed. "King Albert…. He seemed to feel the same way, for what it's worth. He wanted more than anything else to do what was good for humanity, and yet in practice he too was forced to resort to that monstrosity—" I pointed at the reader—"as his guide as well. Why? Because it's accurate."
    Nestor sighed. "You know," he said. "This isn't going at all as I expected. You were supposed to reassure me that humans are good creatures, you see, and that I must be extra-prejudiced against them because of… Of…"
    I nodded and spared my friend the pain of reminding him how badly and for how long he'd been abused by a human. "I fear that I can't do that, old friend. Or at least not in good faith. Instead, I have to offer you an even more depressing thought. For I fear this line of reasoning isn't anything new to me."
    Nestor's ears perked, though he said nothing.
    "Consider this," I said as I rose to return the bridge. "We're part human ourselves, though we and they both tend to carefully ignore the fact. The freer we Rabbits become, and the more power and responsibilities we take on for ourselves, the more powerful the human elements within us seem to grow." I sighed. "Or at least that's been my personal experience so far. Not a happy one either, I'll add."
     

4
    In the end the Hashimotos behaved exactly as Nestor predicted, and perhaps as Machiavelli might've foreseen as well. They did indeed challenge us directly, in a manner worthy of my own double-entendre filled message to them. Only the once, however. And when I faced them down without blinking they folded up like a cheap card table. "Sir," my chief navigator reported a few seconds after my return to the bridge. "We've received permission to orbit. But…"
    I scowled. Lieutenant Clarke had an annoying tendency of not completing his reports without encouragement. He was otherwise highly competent, but needed to be broken of his bad habit before his hesitancy cost lives in a battle. Or, conceivably, cost us the battle itself. "But an African bull elephant wearing a yellow sweater sat on your