Sigh

Paul stared at Milla.  Just like that, came the announcement that she was joining the Arcadian cause.

It made no sense to him.  None at all.  First off, Q didn't get involved in human political or social causes.  Second, she evidently hated him and humans in general... so why?  What interest could she possibly have?

Paul trusted his instincts.  His were prickling, warning that trouble laid ahead by association with this 'Milla'.

Obviously he could not tell her what to do.  If she 'assisted' the cause in her own way, that was her choice... assuming the rest of the Q Continuum permitted it... but even that was fraught with danger.  No Arcadian would welcome or trust her.  She had to be committed to the cause, yet was plainly committed to her own indulgence.  Arcadians acted out of love for their fellow humans, those who rebelled against the mongrelization of their race: Love for the greater good.  She seemed a powder-keg of conflicting emotions, rife with narcissism and self-hatred... a volatile, dangerous mix, perhaps increasing the liability.  Not only did she apparently lack love for his kind (if she was capable of love at all), she just as apparently downright hated them.  Without those things... trust, loyalty and commitment... it would not work.  To top it off, she completely ignored or missed the point of his efforts to get through to her, making it a waste of time, indeed.

Also inescapable was the fact that she had chosen another race over her own.  She rejected being human.  If she could do it once, she could do it again... and in fact did so: Every moment she remained Q, she remained 'not human'.  Such a person, with the omnipotent powers of Q, posed a major threat.  If she got in a 'mood', what was to keep her from blinking all of the Arcadians out of existence?  Of course, she was capable of doing that anyway, but the variable warranted attention.  It was a curious catch-22: Her Q powers could be the greatest possible asset to the Arcadian cause, if she was allowed to use them to full effect... yet no Arcadian would trust her because of those powers.  (And there remained the question of what the rest of the Q would be doing, while she did all this.)  Milla might have possessed other skills as a 'mere' human; qualities Paul would have been more interested in learning about, though he doubted they would ever be revealed: It seemed unlikely that she'd relinquish the power (not to mention arrogance) of Q... another impasse.

He looked back and forth, from Milla to the motionless Cerina Ringo, realizing the true depth of his error in coming here.  These were not questions for him to answer.  He was an agent, a servant, a soldier... not a policy-maker.  He didn't have the authority to decide alliances.  Nor was he representative of every Arcadian.  He was just one guy... even though he was being judged as representative of all Arcadians.

Worse, he was in deep water... and in peril of drowning: A race of aliens on one side, who hated him and probably hated humans in general... a selfish, ignorant witch on the other, who also hated him and humans in general, intent on lambasting him – all based on that judgment – and did not even show a saving grace, when given the chance afterwards, other than to declare that she was 'helping'.  At least the Bartokians took him in, as Milla pointed out, and pretended to be polite for the most part.  He wondered why Milla bothered, if all she was going to do was give him a hard time... unless, perhaps, that was the point.

He began to think that this was a sick game... to see how long he would stand there and get kicked in the nuts, and keep on taking it.  That was the kind of game played by the enemy, those out to make humans suffer – which was the problem, the reason Humanists existed.  These people could not be enlightened – or if they could, he was going about it the wrong way.

All the while, Arcadia was under attack.  He didn't know if time continued at its normal rate beyond the Dinaqa... if and when he escaped from this (assuming he did) that he'd find a world still possible to save, or in ruins, beyond saving.

He'd wasted enough time.  He needed to get out of here and move on... except there was no way out within reach, by conventional means.