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Authors: Stephanie Osborn

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BOOK: The Cresperian Alliance
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The surgical team acted swiftly after that, locating the largest perforations and essentially tacking them closed. Meanwhile the Crispy team carefully healed the smaller injuries: the cuts, scrapes, abrasions, and smaller perforations and blood vessel leaks. By the time Honeywell's team had the major internal injuries held closed, the smaller injuries were healed. Then the Crispies set to work on the large perforations, including the severed section of small intestine and the large laceration in the ascending colon.

This took longer, and while the Crispies worked, the surgical team maintained lavage and suction, keeping the abdominal cavity clean. Chuck, the anesthesiologist, added a unit of blood to the drip; the mixture of blood, saline, anesthetic, and antibiotic that flowed into Bangler's neck became a deep pink.

When that was done, Honeywell began stitching closed the peritoneum, various layers of muscle and tendon, and finally the skin. As he did so, he watched the tissues seemingly miraculously weld themselves together, leaving only a faint pink line. Not even any sign of scar tissue was visible when they were done. Honeywell sighed in relief.

"He's gonna make it,” he pronounced. “I have to say, when he came in here, I wouldn't have given you a plugged nickel for his chances. He needed a miracle, and that's what I was praying for. I know you guys don't believe in a Supreme Being, and I hope you don't take offense. But you were the answer to my prayer today."

"No offense taken, doctor,” Jeri Leverson said softly, putting an arm around a limp, pale Piki Bangler. “I've seen enough, since choosing to become human, to make me wonder a little if we've been interpreting our proofs correctly all this time, so I won't disparage your beliefs. I know this woman here,” she squeezed Piki's shoulders gently, “is as thankful for you as you are for us."

"Indeed,” Piki murmured. “Thank you so very much, Dr. Honeywell. You are a good man."

"So's your husband,” Honeywell responded gently. “Tomlinson told me, just before I came in here, that Sergeant Bangler deliberately took that shrapnel."

"Wh- what?” Piki stammered, as the others watched.

"I don't think my husband fully realized how badly Bang was injured, but he saw what he did in the last few seconds. He stepped in front of the impact point, Piki,” Sira confirmed. “He blocked the explosion from the rest of you—especially you—so you'd have a chance to get that battery changed, and save the others."

"Oh, dear—” Piki broke off, knees weakening.

"Get a chair!” Jeri exclaimed, holding her friend upright. Peter grabbed the stool the anesthesiologist offered, and shoved it behind Piki. Together, he and Jeri eased Piki onto it, then Jeri unceremoniously shoved her head down to her knees.

Honeywell knelt beside Piki. “It's all right, dear,” he murmured, soothing, “it's all right.” He peeled off bloody rubber gloves and threw them at the contaminated waste bin, then stroked her forehead lightly. “He's fine, and he's going to stay that way. Partly thanks to what you did in enhancing him, and partly thanks to your keeping him from bleeding to death on the way here; and partly thanks to the entire lot of people in this room.” He looked around. “Thank you, all of you. Now, let's get Sergeant Bangler into Intensive Care for awhile. When he comes around, we'll move him into a regular room. If you Crispies could see fit to sit with him in shifts, to keep down the pain, it sure would be good. I've found that the less pain medication I can give my patients, the faster they usually tend to heal. The meds suppress the metabolic rate, which partially governs cell turnover."

"Yes, I can see where that might be,” Jeri agreed. “And I think we can all take turns doing that with all three of our patients. There are enough of us, and we are capable of long enough hours, that it shouldn't be a problem."

"Although,” Dalunith remarked with a Crispy approximation of a smile—he and Frstiminith still had yet to fully complete their conversions, due to the rapid sequence of events—“certain members of the group, most notably Piki and Sira, should probably not be included in the rotation. I strongly suspect they may be partial to staying with certain of the patients."

"Good point,” Karen Townshend agreed with a wide grin. “I think things are back to normal—on Earth, at least."

"Provided we don't have a pandemic developing,” Peggy added, as the rest of the team prepared to move Bang to ICU.

"Well, SHIT,” Waterman said with feeling, gazing at the video of the Chief of Crispy Operations. “You mean those sons of bitches may have gotten us yet?"

"It's possible, Tom,” Caleb Washington noted. “I'm passing it up the chain. I didn't want to just lateral it; I thought it needed to have your stamp on it. But if I may offer some advice, I'd strongly recommend getting the Centers for Disease Control, and the World Health Organization, on it as soon as you can get the word out."

"I'll do that,” Waterman sighed, unutterably tired. “Take it easy, Caleb."

"You too, Tom. You look dead on your feet."

"Not far from it,” Waterman admitted. “Lately I've wondered what the hell ever made me think I wanted to run for President."

"Because you know the ins and outs of the politics, and you're a good man, Tom,” a solemn Caleb said. “We've needed someone like you. Can you imagine if one of Sandra's cronies had gotten the office instead? We'd be Snapper food right now—literally."

"Yeah,” Waterman answered, morose. “I didn't like Sandra, but... damn, Caleb, I didn't know I was sending her to her death. I wouldn't have allowed it if..."

"I don't think you could have stopped her, Tom. They're sneaky, devious little bastards,” Caleb shrugged. “The
Zeng Wu
found that out the hard way, and so did Sandra. Unfortunately, because of her inflexible attitudes, it cost her her life.” He gazed compassionately out of the viewscreen at Waterman. “Don't beat yourself up over it, Tom. By our lights as humans, there WAS a chance it might have worked. We couldn't know until we tried. Now, go call the CDC and the WHO."

"Yes, sir,” Waterman managed a weak smile—but a snappy salute. Then both men laughed.

"There's my old friend back,” Caleb declared. “Let me know if there's anything I can do, Tom. We have teams of Crispies all over the world working on the injured, so if they can help with this, all I have to do is contact them."

"Roger that, Caleb. Thanks."

And Waterman hit the END button on the videoconference.

The WHO and the CDC promptly issued a worldwide alert for a possible pandemic.

As it turned out, however, the Cresperian teams provided the solution to the question of a possible pandemic within a few hours of the alert being issued. Using their perceptive sense, they were able to study the remains of Snappers that had been preserved for study and ascertain what virii, fungi, and bacteria were present, and of what nature.

"Gordon says they're positive,” Dr. Mai Le Trung reported to a joint meeting of the World Health Organization and the Centers for Disease Control. “The Crispies say that the Snapper biology is nothing like ours, hence their bugs are not like ours, either. DNA and RNA are totally different. It's like... it's like if you had quartz crystals and salt crystals. They might exist side by side, but they don't blend. In fact, evidence indicates that, in the absence of anything to ‘feed’ off of, what infectious pathogens the Snappers brought with them are already dying off. Sort of the opposite of the ‘War of the Worlds’ scenario."

"So you are saying, Dr. Trung,” the Italian head of the World Health Organization noted, “that, while they did bring ‘infectious materials’ to Earth, those materials were infectious to them, and them alone..."

"And will not have any repercussions upon Earth's biome,” Mai vouched. “Gordon even went so far as to sketch out the genetic material for me, and I was able to confirm that it's completely incompatible with anything on Earth. It's also our considered opinion that all of the Snappers who ate any, um, Earth tissues, were probably being slowly poisoned by ‘em. Like trying to eat quartz instead of salt."

"And you are absolutely certain?"

Mai gave the woman a friendly glare. “You know as well as I do, Dr. Silvio, that nothing is one hundred percent in science. But I'm as sure as it's possible to be, short of conducting experiments that would be considered not only inhumane but crimes against humanity. And one, I'm not going to go there, and two, I think we've seen enough of that already. God knows I have."

"Agreed,” Dr. Silvio chuckled, a gentle, sympathetic sound. “Very well. I will reduce the alert level to yellow. We will maintain vigilance, as is prudent, and will continue research, but will not unduly concern ourselves with it until further evidence warrants it."

"Sounds like a plan,” Mai agreed.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 21

While the injured recuperated, the well honored their dead and began the process of rebuilding what the Snappers had destroyed. This included repair and refurbishment of Fleet Alpha, and preparation of Fleets Bravo and Charlie.

Within a few days, Jan Wersky and John Tomlinson were back on their feet, even if Tomlinson was still using a cane temporarily. Ed Bangler was a little slower, but two days after Wersky and Tomlinson were released, he too was released into the care of his adoring wife. Piki brought him home, back to their quarters in the Enclave, and continued working on him, helping the last of the soreness to depart and the newly repaired tissues to strengthen.

By the time they were ready, so were the fleets.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Planet Earth,” a somber President Thomas Waterman said in his televised address, “we have stuck together. We have come together as one species in defense of each other and the world that is our home. And we have succeeded. Our world is safe, and it is unlikely that it will be bothered again—at least not by a certain stellar empire.

"However, there is another planet that is in dire straits. A planet whose inhabitants are our allies. A planet which has been taken over by the very species who sought to destroy us, and who IS destroying THEM. I pray it is not too late. It is high past time for us to rescue Cresperia."

He paused, to allow his words to sink into his audience.

"To that end, let me present Space Fleet Commander in Chief, Admiral Wayne Terhune."

Waterman watched as the cameras swung to Terhune.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the world,” Terhune said, in a carefully thought out and worded speech, “were it not for our allies and friends, the Cresperians, our world would be very different today. You and I would be either dead, or literally cattle for the Snapper Empire Unwittingly poisonous cattle, true; nevertheless.

"But we are neither. Why? Because the Crispies willingly shared their technology and skills with us. They worked beside us, taking their own technology, developed over many more millennia than our race has been in existence, and helped us enhance it. Helped us take it the next steps further in its development. Helped us merge it with our own ideas and technology to create something that was better than either of its parent engineering sciences.” He gazed into the camera.

"If we do not, in turn, help them in their time of need, I submit to you that we are no better than the Snappers themselves. If we do not offer aid and succour to them now, we are no longer human—we are inhuman, and inhumane.

"We now have, thanks to this world's ability to work together, not one, but THREE fleets of starships—each with the same capability that the first displayed so very recently. It is my intent to take the United States’ portion of two of those fleets, leaving the third at Earth on high alert, and head for Cresperia. There, we intend to take on the Snappers once again. We shall drive them out of the Cresperian system, or we shall die trying. I will not insist upon any other nation joining us, nor will I order any of my crews to go. This is a dangerous mission. We may not return. We may face forces too great, too numerous, for us to succeed. This is a volunteer mission. But I intend to go, dammit, if I am the only person aboard the
USSS Lady Liberty
! I will not leave Cresperia to torture and destruction.

"I ask you: Who will go with me?"

The red light on the camera in the Oval Office shut off, and the monitor in the corner of the room depicted the Office of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. General Caleb Washington sat temporarily in the place of Admiral Terhune, and Terhune and Waterman watched as several telephones rang and the Joint Chiefs conferred.

Finally General John Salter, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, rose. “Admiral Terhune,” he declared, “not only do we have enough volunteers from the army, navy, marines, air force, and space force to crew every starship the United States has, we have enough to carry major ground assault forces as well. I would especially like to note the following. The Space Force, the Space Marines, the First Air Force, the Fourteenth Air Force, the Naval Special Warfare Command, the First Marine Expeditionary Brigade, the Eleventh Marine Expeditionary Unit, the Big Red One, the 82nd Airborne, and the 101st Air Assault have all established one hundred percent volunteer status."

"Excellent!” Terhune boomed.

The video view next cut to the United Nations.

"Ambassadors of the Earth, what is your response?” Terhune asked.

Every ambassador from North and South America, Australia, Europe, and half of Asia, as well as several Middle Eastern nations—the Islamic Confederacy having experienced some schisms during the Snapper invasion—and African nations stood.

The United Nations Secretary General stood as well. “The vote in the Security Council was unanimous,” she declared. “The UN is firmly behind you. Each of the nations whose representative is standing will provide whatever they have to give—starships, crew, supplies, and soldiers. We will not leave our friends and allies to die so cruelly, if it is in our power to help. Those who have not offered to go, HAVE offered to assist in Earth's protection while you are gone."

"Good,” Terhune said gruffly, his tone of voice the only sign of his emotion. “It's already been too long for those who are suffering. We leave in three days."

BOOK: The Cresperian Alliance
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