Earth Unaware (First Formic War)

always look down on it.
    No, Lem was going to take Father’s greatest achievement and make it his own, and he was going to do it so convincingly that the whole world and even Father himself would realize that Lem deserved it. No coup. No trickery. What would be the point of that? Father needed to be a willing participant. He needed to know that Lem had earned it without a scrap of help from Father. Otherwise Father would always believe that it was his achievement and not Lem’s. No, taking the company was the only way to end it all. Only then would Father realize that there were no more snares to lay, no more games to play or lessons to teach. School was over.
    But what if what Benyawe had said was true? What if Father’s only motivation was love? It was possible, of course, though it felt like such an alien idea to Lem that he couldn’t quite take hold of it. Father was never that transparent. There were always motivations behind motivations, and the deepest ones were usually selfish. Lem didn’t doubt his Father’s love. He doubted the pure, distilled form of it. That was something Lem had never seen.
    Lem smiled to himself. See what you do to me, Father? You always keep me guessing. Just when I think I have you figured out, you make me question you all over again.
    Lem needed to confront Dublin. If Father had given Dublin instructions regarding Lem, then the delays weren’t Dublin’s fault at all. Lem excused Benyawe and made his way to the lab. He found Dublin in the control room adjacent to the cargo bay. Dublin was moving his stylus through a holo of the glaser. Bots in the cargo bay followed Dublin’s commands and performed tiny adjustments to the glaser. Lem watched from a distance, not wanting to interrupt. It was obviously a delicate procedure. Yet despite the sensitivity of it, Dublin’s hands danced through the holo and the touch commands like a concert pianist. Lem watched in fascination, feeling a new sense of wonder for Dublin. The glaser was second nature to him; every component, every circuit, were as known to him as his own hands. Father hadn’t stuck Dublin here to test Lem. Dublin had the job because he deserved it.
    Dublin put aside his stylus, stretched, and noticed Lem. “Mr. Jukes. I didn’t see you come in. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
    “I admire what you’ve accomplished with the glaser, Dr. Dublin.”
    Dublin shrugged sheepishly. “Six years of my life.”
    They were alone. Lem felt comfortable proceeding. “My father placed a lot of trust in you when he asked you to lead this project.”
    Dublin smiled. “Your father has been good to me.”
    “You don’t have to speak well of him just because I’m his son. I know as well as anyone that he can be a little rough around the edges.”
    Dublin laughed. “Oh, he’s not as bad as some say. A tough exterior perhaps, but below the surface a sweet man.”
    Lem had to work hard to keep a straight face. Sweet? He had heard all kinds of colorful words to describe father; “sweet” had never been one of them. Yet Dublin seemed sincere. “Did my father ever mention me in relation to this mission before we set out?”
    “He told me you were going to be the captain of the ship,” said Dublin. “He called you ‘most capable.’”
    A compliment from Father? A sign of the apocalypse. Of course Father was probably just trying to put Dublin at ease about the crew.
    “Did he advise you to take any precautions on my account?” asked Lem. “Did he in any way suggest that you were to take care of me? Look out for me? Keep an eye on me?”
    Dublin looked confused. “Your father cares for your well-being, Mr. Jukes. You can’t fault him for that.”
    “A yes or no, Dr. Dublin. Did he did give you special instructions regarding me?”
    Dublin was taken aback. He fumbled, searching for the right words, trying to remember. “He said I was to make sure nothing happened to you.”
    So there it was. Undercut by Father again. Didn’t Father realize that this would add another layer of anxiety to Dublin’s decisions? Whether Dublin’s conscious mind realized it or not, it dangled the threat of “something happening to Lem” every time Dublin went to fire the glaser. Of course he would be cautious. Everything he did carried the possibility of inciting the fury and disappointment of the CEO. But more importantly: Didn’t Father realize that instructions like this made Lem seem like a child? “Make sure nothing happens to