Note: This takes place after "Shattered" but before "Amazon". There's nothing to identify Jake Nez as belonging to the Nez Perce, but I like that idea, so he does. The title comes from a speech by the Nez Perce leader Chief Joseph, on his visit to Washington, D.C. to discuss his nation's future. The whole line is quoted below.


"I am tired of talk that comes to nothing. It makes my heart sick when I remember all the good words and all the broken promises."

Chief Joseph, 1879


He sits across the table from her, watching her over their lunch. Lunch, not dinner, because dinner would be too serious. He does not want to be serious. He wants to be casual with her. "Serious" with her, he's learned, is a wound that can kill.

Jake Nez watches her and wonders how Rachel Leeds is going to break his heart this time.

"Congratulations," he says, "on your promotion."

"Congratulations on your promotion - working with the boss' kid, that's some kind of honor, isn't it?"

"I just wish it was under better circumstances," she says. He notices the omission of a "thank you" where once he would have only seen the green sparkle of her eyes, the way the sun paints gold streaks into her hair. She's a beautiful woman, but not necessarily a polite one. "Mairot... Who would have thought?"

"Mm, yes. But really, you know, he's only 'the boss' kid' on the outside. In here it's just Max."

"Either way, he has a good teacher."

He nods slightly, agreeing. "Betrayal's always a surprise - by definition, I guess."

It sounds bitter if you read it the wrong way. Maybe he wants her to. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe his good opinion of her stopped the moment she said, all those months ago, "Jake... We need to talk."

Then again, he's here, so maybe not.

She shifts in her chair, just a little, and looks at the ocean behind them. "Yes, well." She clears her throat and runs out of things to say.

He lets the silence hang, lets her be uncomfortable for a minute or two. Then, because he is not really that cruel, he comes to her rescue. "I've been drafted into the boss' latest project. He wants Sabre II up and running by the end of the fiscal year, and I'll be the lucky one to do the final check-out in orbit."

It's a dream assignment: he loves space, loved the Sabre space station before their enemies brought it down almost on their heads. To wander around a newly-minted station, solo, is one of the greatest joys he can imagine. It still seems impossible. He still feels, sometimes, like that stubborn kid from the Idaho rez, living on pride and ambition and a dream of touching stars.

Rachel used to hate that he went into space. He expects a lukewarm reception, and gets it.

"That's good," she says.

She takes a breath. He's amused, in an odd way: Rachel never struggles to put her thoughts into words. She never censors herself. She just says things and you just have to deal with them. No sugarcoating, no coddling. Blunt honest truth. He liked that about her, a long time ago.

She says now, "I wanted to talk with you about something else, actually."

"Congratulations on your promotion - working with the boss' kid, that's some kind of honor, isn't it?"

"Mm, yes. But really, you know, he's only 'the boss' kid' on the outside. In here it's just Max."

"Either way, he has a good teacher."

"Jake... We need to talk."

"All right," he says. He doesn't really want to hear it. Her promotion puts him below her in the complicated N-Tek hierarchy, and that bothers him. Mostly it's because he's coming up hard on thirty-three and she's still just twenty-six. Mostly that's it, but not all.

She looks down at the table between them. "I'm sorry for what happened. I made an absolute mess of everything, and I know it."

"You're a wonderful man, Jake, but I don't think it's going to work out between us."

An apology. A miracle. The Holy Grail from Agent Leeds.

He's supposed to be awed. He's supposed to say, "No, it was my fault too," take his share of the blame for their fractured relationship - compromise - but he doesn't. She came after him , not the other way around. And she left.

"So that's it? One sentence and we're through."

Now she wants to come back. He reads between her lines and knows it as a fact. Chasing a nineteen-year-old superman wasn't as much fun as she supposed. But maybe, she's been thinking, maybe Jake will want to start over. We were good together. Weren't we?

He says nothing.

Those deadly green eyes flash annoyance. She knows what his response ought to be. He feels a slight twinge of satisfaction at having blocked her plans. Then he feels remorse because it really is his burden of guilt as well.

"Nothing's black and white," he finally says. That's the closest he'll allow himself to admitting that yes, he could've spent less time away and yes, he could've fought more for her heart, and no, he probably shouldn't have a good opinion of Max Steel and shouldn't wish the kid well.

She nods, slowly and precisely. She's watching him with all the intensity she can bring to bear, which is quite a bit. He feels dissected in spite of the zen calm he's hiding behind. "No indeed."

"You're a wonderful man, Jake, but I don't think it's going to work out between us."

"So that's it? One sentence and we're through."

"Would you have preferred a speech? It's the same closing statement either way."

"I don't suppose I get to ask why."

She sits there, looking so lovely and - yes - wounded that he wants to stay, wants to tell her he's sorry, wants to reassure her that any time she's ready to try again, he'll be there. She's a remarkable woman and he'd be an idiot to walk away.

This sophisticated English rose with a razor-sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He was lucky to have her. He was sorry to lose her.

In the end, he thinks, he never really did either.

"I don't suppose I get to ask why."

"No. You don't."

"I have to go," he says. "I have work to do."

She lifts her chin and meets his gaze squarely, unforgiving in her appraisal. "So do I."

"Good," Jake Nez tells Rachel Leeds.

He stands and puts some money on the table. Then he leaves.

He puts his mind on the stars, and he does not look back.