Push by Eve Silver

the Committee says, “for his breach of the rules we set forth to protect all. And so, we offer a choice to you, Miki Jones. Your life, or his.”
    “That’s crazy. Why would you do that? We’re both valuable to the cause. You can’t—” I swallow and try again. “You can’t ask me to choose. That’s either suicide or murder. And it makes no sense—”
    “Choose, or we will choose for you.”
    “No.” I back away, looking around, frantic to catch a glimpse of Jackson, desperate to see a way out. I’m trapped in a place I can’t escape by beings that hold my life in their hands. All our lives in their hands. I feel the same horror and helplessness I felt back in the building in Detroit, Jackson dying in my arms, faced with the choice of letting him bleed out or risking my own life. An impossible choice. “Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to be saving the world. You’re supposed to—” Be the good guys.
    “If our army cannot follow orders, if they cannot adhere to rules, then we have no hope of defeating the Drau. Choose. Now.”
    “This isn’t just about me or him,” I yell. “I have a dad. Friends. Jackson has a mom. A dad. And they’ve already buried one kid. This isn’t just about one life lost. It’s about all the lives touched, ruined , by loss when someone dies.” Hearts broken. Souls shredded.
    “Precisely. And how many will die if we fail to fight off the Drau? All, Miki Jones. All lives on the face of this planet. Think on that.”
    Sweat trickles along my spine. I need to think. I need to—“This is about saving the world? Then let’s use that as our start point. We need Jackson. How does killing him benefit the cause? He can fight like no one else. He knows the Drau like no one else. Don’t tell me that isn’t true. I don’t care how many teams there are, how good they are; we can’t afford to lose Jackson Tate.”
    I’m breathing short and shallow, my thoughts tumbling, terror pushing me closer and closer to the edge. The Committee’s had thousands of years to learn how to twist circumstances and arguments to their advantage. I’ve had sixteen. The scales aren’t exactly even.
    “So you choose to die?”
    “No!” I stumble back, holding up both hands in front of me. “I didn’t say that. This is all about enforcing rules? All about the greater good, the good of team human? Then let’s talk about that. I wouldn’t have been brought into the game if I wasn’t important. I managed to lead my team through two rough missions with little training or knowledge.” Not really. I didn’t so much lead as survive by accident. “I’ll only get better from here. You need me. The war needs me. How does killing me benefit anything or anyone?”
    “Then you choose Jackson—”
    “I’m not done,” I cut them off as I stalk forward, going on the offensive. “A sacrifice needs to be made to satisfy your twisted reasoning? Fine, then it’ll be made.”
    The Committee just sits there, three silent judges, waiting for me to get it wrong, waiting for an excuse to either kill me or cut out my heart by killing Jackson.
    “The one responsible for the whole debacle gets cut from the team. One of you gets terminated,” I say. “You’re the all-knowing, all-seeing ones. You should have stepped in in Detroit. Should have pulled us before Jackson and I needed to make the choice we did. This is all about responsibility? All about laying blame? Then it’s on you .”
    I talk faster, my arguments shaping themselves to a honed point. “You’re the collective consciousness, right? That means everything you know is known by the others. So one of you is way more expendable than Jackson or me.” I take a quick breath and shoot for the kill. “And if you could fight this war without us, you’d be doing exactly that. You’d have won it the first time, back on your own home world.”
    I’m being cruel. I don’t care. They don’t get to do this. I had no control, no say when I