Peace Army (20 page)

“But we do not know if a Telgoran can survive the trip. What will happen when Patahbay is removed from the mass mind? Can he survive that?”

Ceeray was just as frustrated as Gee was. She did not have any more answers than the engineer, but the Telgorans had just nodded that one of their kind would join the humans on the journey to Earth. And she knew that once they nodded, it was done.

“Gee, there’s nothing we can do unless they nod again to reverse the decision,” Titan added. “And that could take months, even if we could convince them to re-nod.”

“Fine.” The engineer threw his hands into the air. “Just fine.”

He pointed his index finger at Ceeray. It would have been considered Peacefully incorrect on Earth, but none of them gave it a second thought.

“But tell the Telgorans that they are responsible for whatever happens.”

“Gee,” Titan stated simply. “They nodded. They always take responsibility for what happens after a nod.”

* * *

Three days later, the three humans and their Telgoran escort closed the outer bay doors for the final time.

When they lifted off, the trio had spent more than five years on Telgora.

Chapter 29

General Soo strode quickly along the covered walkway that led to the governor’s residence. He had been summoned to provide an update, and the update would not be well received.

He, nor his forces, knew where the mothership was.

Regardless of his ignorance, he felt comfortable with his position on the matter. It was only through his planning and foresight that they knew the ship had left Telgora.

When ordered there five years earlier, he had included a sophisticated monitoring system to the inventory of equipment being sent to the planet. The system tracked all inbound and outbound traffic. Normally considered overkill for a minor planet like Telgora, he had added it to the manifest on a whim.

Needless to say, the Minith stationed on Telgora were surprised when the system’s alarms sounded and the data showed that an unknown ship—a mothership, no less—had lifted off from the planet’s surface.

He had immediately been notified, as had Governor Truk. Soo hoped their decision to keep the mothership’s presence on Telgora a secret did not get out. The cries for vengeance had subsided over the past few years. If the link between the ship and the death of the Minith planet was revealed, it could mean disaster.

Soo was as perplexed as he had ever been. The mothership had become a secondary—no, more like a third-rate—problem years ago. When his forces had moved into Telgora to replace the existing Minith fighters on the planet, they had scoured the mines and facilities for anyone who did not belong. No unauthorized Minith had been found.

So who was operating the mothership?

Soo gnawed on the problem as he approached the governor’s front entrance. What had they missed?

He kicked himself for allowing the mystery of the mothership to fall off his priority screen. The only solace he could take in his oversight was that it was also an oversight of Truk. The governor had decreed early in his rule that reestablishment of trade and defense of the race against its trading partners—specifically, the Zrthns—were the key issues facing the race. Everything else, including finding the swine who destroyed the home planet, had been swept aside by the need to protect what was left of the Empire. At least, that’s what Truk would have the populace believe.

Soo knew the governor had actively suppressed knowledge of the mothership’s part in the destruction of Minith. Besides Soo and Truk, the only other Minith he was certain possessed the information was Rala. She knew because he had told her. As Truk’s aide, it was likely that Ghin also knew, but Soo had no evidence of the knowledge, just a suspicion.

The suppression of the mothership’s presence on Telgora had served the governor well, and Soo granted him his due for the action. Just as Truk had predicted, the demands for retribution eventually diminished.

The Minith were an adaptable race, with numerous strengths. As time passed, the most basic of those strengths numbed the initial desire for answers. Greed, aggressiveness, and a drive for personal fulfillment spilled forth and filled the void left by their dead planet. The remaining population scrambled to establish their places in the new social, occupational, and political hierarchies that formed.

Soo entered the residence and was greeted by Ghin.

“Good day, General Soo.”

“Ghin,” Soo answered.

“The Governor is waiting. Go right in.”

Soo nodded and approached the door to Truk’s office. He checked his ears to ensure they gave nothing away before entering. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

Part III

Down to Earth, Then Beyond

Chapter 30

The Leadership Council sat quietly as Titan told his story.

Grant knew it had to be uncomfortable for them. The large, well-spoken man standing before them was not what they expected. After all, he was once the most infamous Violent on the planet—feared by most of the world’s Peaceful population.

But a lot had happened in the years since Titan was sent to Violent’s Prison. The discomfort they felt had to be allayed by the fact that he had played such a key role in ridding the planet of the Minith.

As Grant observed the proceedings, he felt a slight twinge of pleasure at the conflicting emotions that must be going through the minds of the Leadership Council. He knew it wasn’t polite to feel this way over someone else’s discomfort, but he couldn’t help it.

Now that Titan was here, Grant was no longer the most feared person on the planet. Or even the most heroic.

Their worst nightmare had suddenly become their undisputed hero.

Then there was the Telgoran standing next to Titan. Although the tall, thin alien did not speak to the Council, Patahbay’s presence lent Titan’s story a level of credibility and incredulity that was very powerful. Humans and Minith were not the only sentient beings in the universe. Other races and civilizations existed… out there. It struck Grant that a lot could happen in six hundred years.

Grant listened to the story Titan had already shared with him and his staff. He left out few details. The descriptions of the artwork that hung in their underground villages made an impact. So did his descriptions of the valiant, but doomed assaults against the fortified walls of the Minith mining bases. The thousands of bleached-white bones that littered the plains outside the bases earned particularly satisfying responses from the Council members.

In his mind, this meeting was an obligatory one. It allowed the Council to place their stamp of approval on a decision that had already been made. Even if they refused Titan’s request, the die had been cast.

Grant would take the largest force he could fit into the alien ship and haul ass for Telgora.

He hated that he held the Leadership Council in such low regard. He hated that he would ever think of going against their direction. But the past six years of wrangling with them and their misguided views had tarnished his outlook for good.

On one hand, Grant believed the military should answer to the government it served. Otherwise, what prevented the military from advancing its agenda over that of the people they were sworn to protect?

On the other hand, these people did not have the experience or knowledge to make an informed decision. The manner in which they lived—the way of Peace—stunted their judgment. They did not understand how short-term decisions, based on a longing for peace, could so negatively affect the long-term security of their people and their planet.

The ancient soldier waited for Titan to finish his tale so he could present his recommendations to the Council. He hoped they would see that his proposal was in the best interests of the citizens of Earth, but he was prepared to act against their directions, if necessary.

He had not spent the past six years preparing for a showdown with the Minith for nothing. This was the perfect opportunity to act without endangering the citizens of Earth any more than was necessary.

Grant shook off his doubts.

As much as the Council might be able to speak out against his proposal, he doubted that they actually
would
. They would see the benefit and approve.

After all, moving the fight to another planet helped protect them from retaliation.

Grant smiled at the thought that he would be touching down on another planet in the not-too-distant future.

* * *

Grant raced through his checklist.

The military items were completed. Orders had been issued and were being followed. Equipment was being prepped and loaded onto the mothership. Soldiers and pilots had been selected, notified, and instructed to be ready in two days. Last-minute items and issues would crop up as the departure time neared, but those could be addressed as they arose.

With all those things taken care of, it was time to address the hard stuff.

Grant was a veteran of military deployments. He knew more than a few good soldiers who never made it home from one. Though he had never had a family in his previous life, many of his soldiers had. On several occasions, he’d had to deliver the news that one of his men would never be coming home. For Grant, it was the hardest part of military life. It was also one of the primary reasons he had never gotten close to anyone. He never wanted to place someone he loved in such a desperate position. But now here he was—getting ready to place Avery and Eli in exactly that position.

It was time to get his house in order.

His first stop was at Treel’s quarters. He nodded to the two guards stationed outside the Minith’s door and tapped lightly, then entered the room.

Treel was huddled over the chessboard. He glanced up briefly as Grant walked to the table and looked over the pieces. The alien was in the middle of a game. Since no one else was permitted inside the room who could play, Grant surmised that the alien was playing both sides of the board.

“Are you winning or losing?” he asked the former Minith soldier. As he always did when they were alone, Grant addressed Treel in the Minith language.

“I am evenly matched,” Treel replied gruffly. “It is anyone’s war at this point.”

“You know it’s a game, right? It’s not a war.”

“Is there a difference?” the Minith asked.

Grant knew that for Treel and his kind, a game like chess—or any other type of competition—meant expressing their need for domination and aggression. It wasn’t deadly. It was fought over a board with pieces, instead of over a battlefield with weapons. But, for them, it was just another variation of war.

“Actually, yes. There is a difference,” Grant said. “Games are for recreation, sport, and friendly competition. War has nothing to do with any of those things.”

“War is about defeating those who are inferior, Grant. Why do we have these conversations?”

Grant nodded. It was a good question. They had discussed this topic often and each knew where the other stood. But neither conceded the other’s point. It was how they were made and it was foolish to expect anything else.

Minith and humans were different races. Their history, their experiences, their cultures… all combined to imprint different characteristics on their brains and in their genetic structures. While they shared many of the same traits—similar body structure, an ability to think, willingness to fight, and a desire for family connection—there were just as many differences.

That’s why Grant and Treel got together so well. Each understood how and why the differences existed, and neither tried to convert the other to their way of thinking. It would never work. The best they could hope for—and the solution they settled upon—was to understand the other’s culture and to respect it for what it was.

Grant was pleased that part of the Minith’s culture was to concede superiority to another when defeated.

He was also pleased that particular trait was not in his genetic makeup. If the shoe had been on the other foot and he was a prisoner of the Minith, he would never concede to their superiority.

Nevertheless, he was here to take advantage of that trait.

Now that he knew the mothership held no threat of a Minith attack, there was no further reason to keep Treel confined to his quarters. He no longer posed any further threat to the humans on Earth.

Grant felt torn about his feelings over the decision. He was not concerned that it was wrong, or that the change
should
be made. No. He was torn over why he was so glad that the decision
could
be made.

He was glad because—at the very core of his being—he knew that Treel was the best role model Eli could have in his absence, except Avery.

Coming to terms with
that
truth had been about as difficult and conflicting as it could get.

But there was no denying the feeling. Grant had more in common with Treel than with any human on the planet. The exceptions might have included Titan or Mouse. But Mouse would be busy running the armed forces on Earth, and Titan would be leaving on the mothership when it departed.

Tane was a possibility, but—though he loved Eli, and Eli loved him—the scientist was more a Peaceful soul than not. Eli did not need to be raised in Peace—not with the Minith still out there. No, he needed to be raised in a way that allowed him to fight back, should the aliens ever return to Earth. If he could prevent it, his son would never fall into the trap of false Peace—that snare of complacency and servitude in which humanity was trapped when the Minith arrived on Earth.

Allowing Eli unrestricted access to Treel and his beliefs would foster the will to fight.

All these conflicting thoughts and emotions were running through Grant’s mind and body as Treel advanced a black rook down the board. He placed his white king into check. Grant recognized the attack and saw that the game could be over in four more moves.