The Cresperian Alliance (30 page)

Tklktk nodded and reached out with one tentacle, taking the device and positioning it around his neck as he noticed Fellowes had done. “There,” he said, the English translation suddenly sounding louder to the humans than his clicking speech. “How is that?"

"Perfect,” Fellowes said, smiling. “Do you understand us, as well?"

"We do,” Tklktk averred, as the rest of Sandra's team handed out translators to Tklktk's team. “What is this place?"

"This is an historical site, a former town,” Fellowes explained. “It is some one hundred planetary orbits old."

"It is... intriguing,” Tklktk decided. “But you are much more advanced than this."

"We are,” Fellowes noted. “Come with me. We'll go into the temporary diplomatic center and share a meal before we begin discussions."

"Very well,” Tklktk agreed. He waved a tentacle at his embassage, and they followed the humans into the hastily erected modern complex.

The Snappers had not bothered to bring any food to share with the humans, and for this Fellowes was somewhat thankful, although she did consider it a distinct breach of etiquette. A banquet table had been set for buffet style eating, and a large plate of steak tartare had been provided for the humans partaking, since most of them didn't relish raw brains of any animal. However, several different varieties had been set out for the Snappers, ranging from beef, pork, and buffalo, to the more exotic monkey and llama. Sandra didn't ask where her staff had gotten it; she'd simply demanded it be acquired. And frankly, she didn't want to know.

She didn't notice that Tklktk was not the first of his team to partake; another, smaller Snapper tasted each item before Tklktk would try it. Carafes of water with goblets sat around the room; this, too, Tklktk's taster tried before bringing his master a goblet of water.

"This is very intriguing,” Tklktk noted, waving a tentacle at the table. “Most delectable foods. You have many varieties of meat. This is a rich planet."

"Oh, this is just a small sample,” Sandra beamed. “We have a lovely diversity of flora and fauna. Some very rare and beautiful."

Tklktk bobbed his head in what Fellowes had concluded was the Snapper equivalent of a nod. “I should be interested in seeing it."

"Perhaps once we've worked out our peace treaty, I can take you on a planetary tour,” she suggested. “Meanwhile, would you like to see the old ghost town outside? Learn more about our histories?"

"Indeed,” Tklktk agreed. “Multiple histories?"

"Yes, there are many peoples, and many cultures, on Earth.” Sandra led the way back outside and both teams, human and Snapper, followed. They headed down the overgrown main street of the formerly thriving town. “This was once the town of Coronado, Kansas,” she explained. “The continent you are on is called North America. The nation is the United States of America, and this nation is divided into fifty states. Kansas is one of those states..."

After a considerable time spent summarizing Earth's history, geography, cultures, and people, it began to get late in the day. “It is time to rest?” Tklktk queried, noting the stars outside in the night sky.

"It is,” Fellowes noted. “We've prepared quarters for you and your diplomatic team—"

"That will not be necessary,” Tklktk interrupted, blunt. “We have quarters aboard our shuttle."

"I... I see,” Sandra said, covering her flusterment. “Then we shall meet in the morning, in about ten hours?"

"We shall be here."

And the Snappers exited the building, headed back to their troop carrier.

When they were well gone, Fellowes turned to her team and huffed. “Well! One thing is certainly true about them—they are rude enough!"

"Ms. Fellowes—they, um, they're not human,” one of her aides, Robert Jameson, pointed out. “Not only don't they know our rules of etiquette, their own may be very different. They may consider US rude."

"Nonsense!” Fellowes waved away the comment. “How could anyone consider us rude, after the lovely way we accommodated them? Even if they do have a...” she choked back a retch with effort, “an unpleasant cuisine.” She turned toward the human quarters. “Now, everyone to bed. We have to be ready for tomorrow."

"Um,” Jameson asked again, “don't you think maybe we should post a guard?"

Fellowes spun on him, glaring. “NO, I DO NOT,” she declared loudly.

"I mean, for their safety, as much as—"

"Are you one of Martin's spies?” Fellowes hissed. “Testosterone! That's what it is! I'll do this without even the hint of guns, young man! You wait and see!” She turned to the others. “I said, GO TO BED!” she ordered.

The commons area cleared immediately.

The next day the negotiations began in earnest.

"Our cease fire terms,” Tklktk stated, “are unconditional surrender."

"Oh, surely not,” Fellowes wheedled, almost saccharine sweet. “Relations would be MUCH better between our peoples if we are on an equal footing. Perhaps an alliance and trade agreements..."

"What kind of trade agreements?” Tklktk wondered. “What can you possibly have that is worth our time?"

"Our delicious meats, for one,” Fellowes suggested. “Technology exchange. Perhaps a few other things."

"She offered them TECHNOLOGY?!” Waterman exploded. “What the HELL is she thinking??"

"I don't know, sir,” Jameson murmured into his cell phone. “She's... I think she really DOES believe she speaks for the whole planet, and doesn't have to consult anyone to do it."

"Son of a bitch,” Waterman cursed. “She's trying to cover over that media debacle when she insulted the Cresperian representative, by scoring a win over the Snappers without firing a shot. And doesn't care what she gives away in the process! Idiot! Keep me posted, Bob."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"I think that would be acceptable,” Fellowes murmured thoughtfully. “We could be a province of the Klkppt Empire, but we would have internal sovereignty, and interplanetary trade agreements. Effectively nothing would change for Earth except we'd have increased trade via off planet transactions. Yes, I think that will do nicely."

"Excellent,” Tklktk said, obviously satisfied.

"Now, one more thing I must bring up..."

"And that would be?"

"The planet of Cresperia,” Fellowes said. “You recently invaded it."

"Oh, the world of the green pacifists?"

"That's the one."

"There is nothing to negotiate. They are a conquered and subjugated planet. The people will be eliminated and processed after they have been studied, and our people will colonize the system."

"Oh dear,” Fellowes murmured, distressed. “You see, they're allies of ours. They're really quite advanced, you know. Wonderful technology, and the ability to manipulate the... the quantum something or other, without any technology at all. They're very nice. I'm sure they'd be willing to work with you if you'd stop harming them."

"Really?” Tklktk said, animalistic eyes opening wide. “This is interesting. Tell me more..."

"Excellent,” Fellowes beamed. “A cessation of all hostilities, the Earth and Cresperia systems become autonomous provinces of your empire, and trade agreements all around. I think it's perfect."

"Indeed,” Tklktk agreed. “Is the... I believe you call it, the ‘paperwork,’ ready?"

"Yes sir, ma'am,” the stenographer noted, sending the document, which she'd prepared as they negotiated, to the printer. “Here you are."

She handed over two copies of the multi-page document, and Tklktk took the pen Fellowes offered him in his tentacled hand equivalent and made a series of symbols on the page on the line Fellowes indicated, on each copy. Then he handed back the pen and Fellowes signed the documents, as flash bulbs went off and cameras whirred.

Tklktk had learned to shake “hands” during the course of the negotiations, and now he and Fellowes did so. He opened his toothed beak in what Sandra assumed to be a smile, and she, too, smiled for the cameras. Then they took the treaty, turned, and disappeared into a private area.

"Dear God, the idiot bitch has signed us away,” Waterman moaned, as he watched the televised treaty signing. “She ignored every message I sent, and did as she pleased. She's turned us into slaves, for certain.” He slumped back into the leather upholstered wing chair in his private study. “What the hell do we do now?"

Later that evening, the Snappers took their leave. Amid much fanfare and goodbyes, the embassage, carrying their copy of the treaty, entered their small ship and lifted off.

Once they were high in the air, Sandra sighed. “That's over,” she said with relief. Then she perked up. “And I DID IT! Without a single damn shot being fired, I singlehandedly brought about peace between the Snappers, the Cresperians, and Earth! NOW who's in the doghouse politically!"

She and her colleagues—minus Robert Jameson, who had gotten his hands on a copy of the treaty and surreptitiously hightailed it to Washington, per Waterman's orders—stood and watched the tiny ship ascend into the heavens. A sun glint reflected off it, and for a moment it shone brightly. Beyond it could be seen the bright artificial “stars” of two fleets of starships, poised for battle. Fellowes waved a hand at them.

"Look at ‘em!” she crowed. “All that firepower, wasted! All the money to build those warships, and all we needed to do was to sit down and have a reasonable talk! It's all about peace! Peace justifies anything!"

The tiny moving star that was the Snapper shuttle disappeared in the larger star of what Sandra assumed was a Snapper carrier ship. A smile of triumph on her face, she turned back toward the diplomatic building.

"WAIT! What's that?” one of her staff members called, pointing into the night sky.

Secretary of State Sandra Fellowes turned and looked up. The triumphant smile promptly became an openmouthed expression of horror as she saw the sky directly overhead fluorescing green, the color growing brighter and brighter.

It was the last thing she ever saw, as the diplomatic facility, the ghost town, and everything around it for a full five mile radius, was obliterated by the Snapper pulsed energy projectile.

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Simultaneously with the destruction of Sandra Fellowes and her vaunted team, the Snapper ships in orbit opened fire on ALL major Earth cities. However, despite their heavy duty weapons, the Snappers’ beams fell short of their targets in most instances. A few cities in Asia, the Middle East, and Africa were destroyed, but the total number was less than half a dozen.

Still,
a horrified Commander in Chief of Earth's Space Fleet thought,
that's several million people, right there. Wiped out with no compunction, and no regard for their word of honor.

"BATTLE STATIONS! Cease fire has been broken!” Admiral Terhune shouted then. “ALL SHIPS, POSITION YOURSELVES TO PROTECT THE CITIES, AND OPEN FIRE!"

Low Earth orbit was suddenly filled with searing energy beams, as Snappers attempted to destroy the population centers of the planet, and humans attempted to stop them.

"Hang on, guys!” Tomlinson cried. “Maneuvering to intercept and block Snapper attacks! Looks like they reneged on their agreement as soon as their people were out of range! Fire when ready!"

Bang was thankful he was strapped in as the
Columbia
executed a hard translational maneuver. He grabbed Piki in one arm and Peggy in the other to keep them from being thrown across the gunnery room. As soon as the ship came to a stop, he released them. “Get back in the MASH room!” he exclaimed, and they ran for the hatch. “All gunners! Target and prepare to open fire on my command!"

"Aye, Gunny!"

"On it!"

"Let ‘er rip, Bang!"

"FIRE!"

The port side gunners of
Columbia
opened up on the nearest Snapper ships, which included three battleships and two carriers. Two battleships were torn apart in seconds. One of the two carriers was severely crippled; it appeared unable to release its cargo of smaller ships. Bang brought it into his sights, scanning carefully; a deliberate sequence of three disintegrator shots took out essential systems, and the huge carrier exploded like some titanic bomb, part of its remains obliterating on the
Columbia
's quantum shielding.

But before the humans could react further, the Snappers turned their weapons on... the satellites orbiting Earth. In seconds entire satellite constellations were so much orbital debris.

"Shit!” Tomlinson cursed. “Word coming down from the flight deck is that comm is down, ‘cause they got our satellites! That must've been the WHOLE POINT of the peace talks and having them televised! They NEVER intended to keep a peace treaty! They were just using it, scoping out which satellites were communications links, which were military, the whole works! We had a blind spot!"

"Do we even know if that was the ‘ambassador's’ signature on the treaty?” Bang grumbled. “It's not like any of us can read Snapper. For all we know, he could have been writing,” he broke off, then finished with a marginally more sedate, “uh, ‘Eff you.’”

"John!” Piki called from the door of the MASH room. “The unreality communications! Are all the ships outfitted?"

"Brilliant, Piki!” Tomlinson replied, keying his mike. “Port gunnery unit to Bridge. Crispy liaison suggests linking via unreality comm. On those ships not so outfitted, recommend using any available unreality link, including tank and personal units, then relaying to the bridge through internal comm. Yes sir. Thank you, sir, I will.” He grinned at Piki. “Good job, liaison."

Piki beamed. Bang shot her a brief grin before returning his attention to firing at Snapper ships. It was just then that the spacecraft carriers opened, releasing tens of thousands of troop ships and fighter craft.

"Aw, dammit,” Tomlinson groaned.

"Hunker down, crew!” Bang ordered. “The more of ‘em we get up here, the less of ‘em get down to the surface!"

On the dark side of Earth, which happened to be the Western Hemisphere, the heavens were bright instead of dark. Brilliant streaks of different colors shot through the heavens, and an aurora filled the sky: So much energy was being released by the weapons that Hawking radiation was being generated. As it impinged on the atmosphere, the skies lit up from pole to pole, with the energy beams visible through the aurora's haze. Occasional explosions added to the light show.