The Cresperian Alliance (26 page)

Waterman nodded in grim understanding.

"Can the debrief wait until tomorrow?” Terhune pressed.

Waterman gazed somberly at Terhune. “You know better than that, Wayne. If we're going to save Cresperia, we have to move soon. It's already almost too late, according to what I've seen."

Terhune slumped. “You're right, of course."

"But what we can do,” Waterman continued, “is to video conference them in from SFREC. Saves them an additional trip, as well as the stress of being face to face with... certain people."

"It's a plan,” Terhune agreed. “I anticipate their arrival in about two hours. Give ‘em an additional half an hour to freshen up, and we'll hold the meeting."

"No,” Waterman countermanded firmly. “I want Sandra to see the hell they went through, on their faces. Bring them straight to the conference."

"Yes SIR."

Sixteen very tired and distressed spacefarers arrived back at the Brider Enclave. Immediately they were met by General Washington's staff and ushered to his video conference room. Washington was there waiting.

"Sorry to do this, ladies and gentlemen,” he apologized softly, seeing the pallid faces. “D.C. wants to see you soonest. We're hoping your personal reactions will help influence... certain parties... to cooperate."

"Gotcha,” Kyle Leverson nodded his tired understanding. “But can we hurry this up? Otherwise you're liable to have a sleeping crew on your hands, and that wouldn't look good at all..."

"Assuming any of us could actually sleep,” Bang muttered.

"Counseling and anything else you need, including medication, is only waiting on the end of this video conference,” Washington offered gently. “Are you all ready?"

Sixteen weary nods.

Washington nodded at the conferencing technician in the corner.

In a secure room in the Pentagon, the Joint Chiefs, the Vice President, the President, and his defense and diplomacy advisors on the Cabinet, met together as the video conference feed came up. “Are our allies here?” Waterman asked.

"United Kingdom."

"Canada."

"Australia."

"Belgium."

"Germany..."

When the roll call had ceased, Waterman nodded. “Is everyone obtaining the video?"

"Yes, President Waterman,” a Belgian official noted. “All allies, NATO and adjunct, report in that they are receiving the feed well."

"Then let me turn this meeting over to my Secretary of Defense.” Waterman took his seat, and the Defense Secretary rose.

"The first thing I'd like to show,” Martin Singletary, chairing the meeting, declared, “is the evidence brought back from Cresperia by the covert team."

Without further preamble, he clicked a button on the remote control in his hand. An image of a beautiful green, gold, and blue world appeared. “This is what Cresperia looked like during the visit of the
Galactic
,” he declared. He hit another button; a scorched and devastated planet appeared, black and brown replacing the serene blues and greens. “This is what it looks like now."

The planet spun at an accelerated rate, allowing those observing to see the entire surface in a matter of mere moments. Several obscenities were murmured beneath the level of hearing of those present, by those present.

"Now let me show you the planet up close and personal,” Singletary said grimly, clicking another button.

A montage of images flickered by: A huge crater, its bottom filled with ruined buildings. Half a mountain range, ravaged of foliage; the other half of the range had been replaced with a series of craters. Once lush fields, now blackened and bare. A dry river bed, full of dead water creatures, its ancient glacial water source obliterated. Ten more cratered remains of cities. Fields strewn with Cresperian bodies beginning to rot.

And the concentration camps. More than a dozen; each depicting some new horror. Mass executions, some swift via laser; some less so, as the indigenous populace were crowded into a tiny, fenced space and left outside in the elements with neither food nor water. A few tiny animals were seen to scurry out through the fencing, and one or two of the audience more knowledgeable of Crispies privately wondered if these were truly animals, or morphed Crispies escaping while they could.

But it was the video of the lab that turned everyone sick. John Tomlinson had managed to spot a surface building with a large skylight in its roof, and used his spy equipment to peer through it. Inside were rows of tables, a Cresperian strapped to each. Snappers with what appeared to be medical implements stood over them.

As they watched, Sandra Fellowes suddenly screamed. “Oh my God!” she cried. “They're dissecting them alive!"

"And conscious,” Singletary pointed out, “with no discernible anesthetic. It's called vivisection, technically."

"Mein Gott,” a soft, horrified German voice came through the audio feed. “The Nazi regime vas bad, but..."

"L'olam lo suv,” another voice responded firmly. “Never again."

"There's one last thing you need to see,” Singletary said, as the video continued to play.

Suddenly it was depicting the fierce battle between a Snapper contingent and a large group of Crispies, backed by Major Bennett's Cresperian deployment of Space Marines. Gradually they beat back the Snappers, eliminating the enemy unit, before disappearing into a lush green forest.

"They are learning to fight, then,” a crisp English voice noted.

"They are,” Singletary agreed, “of necessity. Note that the Cresperian force was twice the size of our Marine force, and was taking the lead in the fighting. It has been dubbed the CRF—Cresperian Resistance Force—by our observation crew. I have been told that one of the Crispy crewmembers remarked on the planet's ‘loss of innocence.’ Here is the proof of that."

"Sad,” Salter shook his head.

"Now,” Singletary said, “I'm going live to the starship crew that risked their lives to slip into the midst of the Snapper fleet to obtain this imagery, as well as tactical data and information that may aid us in freeing Cresperia.” He stared at Secretary of State Fellowes, who flinched under his gaze and dropped her head. “Ladies and gentlemen, are you there?"

The image flickered and changed to the room where the
Starskipper
's former crew sat in the Enclave. “We're here, sir,” General Washington noted. “They're a bit the worse for wear, emotionally as well as physically, but everyone's here and safe."

The camera panned around the room, depicting the weary, pale, disturbed faces.

"Are there any questions for the crew?” Singletary asked.

"What are your feelings right now?” Waterman wondered.

Lieutenant Anderson stood. “Hank Anderson, Lieutenant, White Horse. Sir, I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we're...” His voice cracked, and he broke off for a moment, then resumed. “We're upset, horrified, haunted, and flat dead on our feet. But sleep isn't so good right now...” He stopped, opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it and sat down.

"You're soldiers,” Fellowes pointed out. “Surely you're used to seeing death."

Bang gritted his teeth, then rose. “Gunny Sergeant Edward Bangler, White Horse,” he declared, deliberately allowing his pride to come through in his voice, not caring whether Fellowes recognized him or not. Judging by her blank expression, she didn't, which didn't surprise anyone. “Ma'am, excuse me, but no one ever gets ‘used to’ seeing death. And NO one can deal with seeing it in that magnitude, and with that degree of callousness. In addition to which, about one fourth of our crew were converted Crispies, not soldiers. Watching... feeling... their pain... was almost as bad as what we saw on the planet."

"But surely these are just aliens to you,” Fellowes probed. “It isn't like you were witnessing humans being killed. Why are you humans so perturbed?"

"Says the master diplomat,” Terhune noted sarcastically out of the side of his mouth.

"If I may,” Gordon Stuart broke in, standing, and Bang sat down.

"Yes, Mr. Ambassador,” Singletary said, overriding whatever Fellowes had been about to say. “Please."

"Just before the Snapper invasion of Cresperia, my wife, Dr. Mai Le Trung, and I made an important discovery. We haven't had a chance to follow through on it. But as fully another quarter of the crew are either mates or significant romantic interests of the Cresperians on board... and are enhanced... I would like to ask the crew a question."

"Please, proceed,” Singletary said.

"Jeri, Sira, Piki—when was the last time you had to... ‘update'... the enhancements on your men?” Gordon wondered.

Jeri and Sira both blinked. “Not in a long time,” Jeri realized. “A LONG time."

"Not since well before the wedding,” Sira added.

Piki pondered. “I have not been with Bang-bang as long as the others,” she said, “nor has our... relationship... been as close. But it has been several weeks since I had to ‘fix’ him."

"I submit as a working hypothesis that their genetics have adapted to the new configuration, as we Crispies had originally intended, but which information was evidently never properly passed on to them,” Gordon suggested. “They have, in essence, accepted their new ‘programming’ and are now maintaining it on their own."

Bang raised a hand. “Could it be more than that, at this point?"

"What do you mean?” Gordon asked.

Bang shook his head. “On the
Starskipper
,” he began, “when we first started seeing scenes of the... the slaughter... and you got upset...” He broke off and flushed. “For a few seconds there, it was like I... like I knew what you were feeling."

"Yes,” Piki declared then. “I have noticed it in you of late, Bang-bang. You are a naturally gentle, sensitive man, and I believe you are developing a weak perceptive sense."

"I've... been doing the same thing,” Kyle volunteered a bit reluctantly. “And for... oh, shit, maybe a year or so now. Half the time, Jeri and I don't even need to talk these days."

"Are you sure?” Mai demanded.

Kyle nodded, but Piki shook her head.

"No, not yet,” Piki admitted. “But if Gordon is correct, it would make sense."

"Are you saying these people are no longer HUMAN?!” Fellowes expostulated.

"Waterman,” came a voice over the audio, a decided French lilt in it, “you have an Einstein there, mes ami. And you say this is your Secretary of State? God help you, should you ever need negotiation."

Fellowes flushed.

"We're just as human as you are, Madame Secretary,” Mai responded curtly. “I'll put my DNA up alongside yours any day. Our mates have simply shared their gifts with us. This may be the next stage in the development of humanity—aided by friends."

"That's enough questions from our side,” Singletary cut off the exchange. “Is there anything the
Starskipper
crew has to say?"

Bang stood before anyone else could. “Yes sir,” he declared, with as much—polite—force as he could muster. “Cresperia needs our help, bad. If we don't go help them, I don't see as how we're any better than the Snappers. It makes us just as cold blooded to sit back and watch and do nothing, as it does them for doing it.” He sat down.

"Well said, Sergeant,” Singletary approved. “Anyone else?"

"I think Bang just said it for all of us, sir,” Tomlinson noted firmly. “Nothing much else to add."

"Very well. You lot go see the medics and get some rest. You've earned it twelve times over. Commendations are on the way for each of you."

The video went dark.

As soon as she left the meeting, Sandra Fellowes was immediately hounded by the press—as she had been for the last three days. “Why did you insult the Cresperian ambassador, Ms. Fellowes?” one reporter demanded. “Was there some diplomatic purpose behind it? Are we about to break off relations between Earth and Cresperia? What about the Crispies already here? Rumor has it that some have even married Earth men and women. Will they be expelled from the planet? Will their human spouses be forced to leave, too?"

"I didn't know he was Cresperian!” Fellowes blurted. “We're not breaking off relations with anyone! And there are no HUMANS married to Cresperians!"

"How could you NOT KNOW he was a Crispy?” the reporter fired back. “Green fur, orange eyes, odd shaped head—that's kind of hard to miss, Ms. Fellowes."

"He wasn't...” Fellowes broke off.

"So help me, if you try to defend yourself using classified information, Sandra, I will see to it that you are prosecuted as a spy..."

"...He wasn't there,” she finished lamely. “He was on a teleconference. I couldn't see him."

A medic was waiting for the clipper ship crew outside the conference room. She carefully doled out sleeping pills to each crew member sufficient for the night, then scheduled appointments for them all the next day.

As they departed by ones and twos, Bang grabbed Piki's hand and all but dragged her along back to her apartment. “What is wrong, Bang?” Piki asked, sensing his agitation.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know yet, Piki,” he said, upset and uncertain, as they neared her door. “But we need to talk. And we need to talk in private."

"Come in, then.” She swiped her badge through the lock and entered, holding the door for Bang. He closed it behind them, then led Piki over to the sofa, seating her there. Then he dropped to one knee.

"Piki,” he said in an urgent, soft tone, “I don't have the least notion what you're going to think of this, but I have to. After everything we've just seen, after getting into and out of that hellhole around your home world, I can't wait any longer. I'm afraid of what might happen if I do. Piki, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Wide copper eyes stared at him.

[Back to Table of Contents]

"Marriage,” Piki began slowly. “This is permanent. And very intimate. And involves... touching. Much touching."

Bang nodded, having expected this conversation before getting his answer. “Yes, Piki, it is,” he agreed. “But it isn't like what happened to you in Scotland. Well, it is, in a way. Parts of the intimacy stuff. But I wouldn't hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

"Explain, please."

Bang flushed deeply. “I've wanted you... like that... for several weeks now. But I haven't said anything or done anything because I wanted YOU to want it, too. If a man loves a woman, he's gentle, and patient, and tender, and helps her get ready. And when she's ready, she gets... wet... there. It's a natural lubricant. And once there's enough of that, it doesn't hurt, it feels good."