B00BKLL1XI EBOK (41 page)

“Hmm... Interesting,” acknowledged Ace.

“I’m just saying. Just something to think about.”

The Reaper sighed and stretched.

“Well, I have to be on my way,” he said. “Next time I’ll see you, I’m going for your throat. Be ready.”

Ace respectfully bowed. The Reaper jumped into his sleek pod and took off towards his gunship. His former student watched as he warped out into deep space, taking a slingshot around the nebula on his way back to the eldritch temples of the Dark Gods.

[ chapter _ 039 ]

After a shower, a thorough examination for any tracking devices in his body, and a visit to Leo’s grave, Ace returned to Abydos. Just as the Reaper told him, news from the battlefield were encouraging. An impressive half of occupied territory held steady against the spirited counterattack from the Dark Gods. The Nation’s positions were firm. Dot and Sergio came up with a new tactic to keep the aliens on their toes with random, seemingly senseless attacks, using planet killers and small squadrons of destroyers.

The planet killers would attack outposts with their thunderbolts of raw energy, tearing through planets and rendering them unusable. Destroyers, bombers and fighters didn’t engage their opponents, but simply protected the planet killer as it pierced through countless tons of rock and ice, splintering the planets’ and planetoids’ surfaces and heating their insides into magma which would seep out of the cracks and fault lines stretching for hundreds of miles.

The devastated worlds would be left as they were, often leaving surviving battle cruisers and gunships to tell their superiors exactly what happened. It was an obvious tactic, but the Dark Gods couldn’t see any other choice than to try and defend their outposts with more warships and pushing more and more of their military to the edges of their vast empire. It seemed that an area 21,600 light years across was too much to control without additional help. Their struggles finally answered the question as to why they needed proxies and why they wanted to create the Nation. It was all about securing their space and expanding their armada with the help of other, powerful species who had the industrial capacity to build and maintain large militaries.

“Excellent,” approved Ace as he finished reading the analysis. “I was hoping to see something like this. Now, what about Earth?”

The computer tallied the reports from the Child High Council on a wall sized holographic screen. Very few of them were positive. In the time between the first reports of a slowdown in business and the surge of hostility towards the cyborgs in the media and the attack on the Dark Gods’ capitol world, anti-Nation protests erupted across the globe. Neo-traditionalists organized angry marches in front of nearby embassies, complete with furious slogans and songs which talked of an Earth “made by real humans for real humans.”

Others went even farther, trying to publish the home addresses of Ace, Dot, and Nelson on Earth and hinting that it may be good if the Nation’s emissaries don’t have a place to which to return. Making an alien occupied residence no more, they wrote, would clearly tell the cyborgs that they’re not wanted.

Progressives made the battle of the words even worse by staging counter-protests so they could have an excuse to clash with the neo-conservative demonstrators, declaring that once Ace, Nelson, and Dot came back, humans would be given eternal life in cyborg bodies and publishing the home addresses and contact information of those who tried to encourage assaults on the cyborgs’ properties. They justified their actions by saying that they were only giving the agitators a taste of their own medicine.

Companies, labs and military entities spooked by the chaos, sat on orders to which they committed months in advance and delaying the delivery and payment of fulfilled requests. The Nation’s business on Earth suffered a sharp, 37% drop in volume and was 33% down in order value. Ace looked at the charts, shaking his head. Newman managed to rise from his political grave and wreak enough havoc to warrant the attention of the High Command.

Next day, in a High Command meeting, the Newman problem was the main topic. Dot and Nelson were brought in to consult on a course of action as the Commanders debated how to help the companies taking major hits. They accepted the legal argument that it was their duty to remove political barriers between trading partners and uphold trade agreements. And they needed to keep the cash flowing to fund the war with the Dark Gods. But how to do it was the big question.

“I think that Councilor Grey was on to something,” said Sergio. “If there are a few friendly faces, even remotely, we could reassure the humans and put an end to these nonsense protests.”

“Maybe, but then Newman would just whip them up again with a new talking point,” frowned Alice. “I understand what Grey said to Cynthia and I agree. Because we’re not there to set the story straight with the same people they’re used to seeing on TV, they don’t know what to believe and both Newman and the progressives can spin any story they want and get plenty of people to fall for it.”

“First and foremost, we need to take care of the Newman issue,” chimed in Nelson. “Then we use the same charm offensive as before. Ace and Dot clear things up, I act as an official voice backing them up and reassuring the humans that there’s nothing to worry about. If we put the issue of human to cyborg conversion on the back burner, we could refocus on the war.”

“Ok,” agreed Ace. “But you know what? I’ll take care of the Newman problem myself and we’ll go from there.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Dot. “Remember not to get too crazy now...”

“Don’t worry,” Ace gave Dot an offended, sideways glance. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all.”

A sleek limousine stopped in front a skyscraper housing an embassy of the Nation. Newman stepped out and mentally sized up the tower, wondering just how much of a thorn he became in the cyborgs’ side if they invited him for a meeting with the enigmatic and highly secretive High Command.

As he walked into the lobby, he was greeted by three Children in their traditional uniforms decorated with silver tribals. They lead him to a big, comfortable room on one of the top floors of the building and invited him to relax and make himself at home as the connection to Abydos was being established. On a table next to a beige couch with an asymmetrical back stood several bottles of fine spirits, square edged glasses and a metal tray with crystal clear, perfectly square ice cubes. With a polite bow, the Children left the room and softly closed the door behind them.

Newman settled in for a long wait. He expected that the Nation’s representative would take a long time to contact him and he had very good reasons to think so. After all, at the apex of his power, he made many a person wait for him. Running late with supposed meetings or presenting his time as a great favor was an excellent way to disarm a lobbyist or a rival since it made his time look far more valuable than anything on their calendar.

But the Nation didn’t make him wait long and right on time, Ace appeared on a wide holographic screen. The cyborg sat on a chair, backwards, dressed in human clothes. The sleeves of his aquamarine shirt were rolled up and the shirt itself was not tucked in. It was the way he usually wore human clothes on global TV. His face showed no anger or frustration like Newman hoped. Instead, Ace was smirking with an ominous air around him.

“Evening Mr. Newman,” he said, putting an extra emphasis on the casual salutation.

“Commander Ace,” respectfully nodded Newman in reply.

“Well, well Mr. Newman. You’ve really done it this time. After how you slathered us in shit for a year when we came here to defend your home world, I thought you couldn’t sink any lower than that. In fact, I was sure of it. But somehow, you managed.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Newman shook the glass so the ice cubes clinked as he confidently beamed into Ace’s cold glare and took a sip.

“Mr. Newman, let me ask you something.”

“By all means.”

“Are you out of your mind? I mean there’s a war engulfing a third the galaxy and you’re dedicating your time to stripping the Earth of its technology and defenses. What is wrong with you?”

“No, no Commander. I’m removing your technology from Earth, not ours. I don’t like you and I don’t trust you and I trust those weird machines you sell by the million even less. I’m protecting Earth, not trying to endanger it. You did that already.”

“First of all, you own the technology. You bought it. It’s yours. I don’t think it takes a genius to figure that out. Secondly, I don’t care if you like me or not. Believe it or not, my universe will not collapse in on itself because you don’t like me. You don’t like me? Get in line behind all the other aliens and humans who aren’t that fond of me or my crew. And I have to tell you it’s a long line so keep those drinks up because you’ll be in that line for a long, long time.”

Newman took another sip and put down his glass with a chuckle. He sighed and began his counterattack.

“You know Commander, you should probably think about some kind of a spokesperson. Someone more refined around the edges and who knows how to deal with people. Someone less forgiving would find your approach pretty rude and uncivilized.”

“You talking about civility is an oxymoron Mr. Newman. Please do me a favor and cut the crap. You’re not dealing with the Children, their Council, or their salespeople. You’re dealing with the Nation.”

“How is that any different?”

“I don’t think you get it Mr. Newman. Or should I call you Andy instead? Seems a little more fair since you get to call me Ace?”

“Mr. Newman will work just fine,” growled Newman.

“You see Andy,” winked Ace, “the Children are the nice friendly face of the Nation. They’re the merchants, the politicians, the helpful creatures who come down from the sky and shower you with gifts. If you didn’t understand it by now, that’s their role. Do you know what the High Command’s role happens to be?”

“Let me guess, a shadow government? You send in the Children and manipulate them with the High Command from above, right? Or am I missing something?”

“We don’t need a shadow government. We have one that works, one that does more then make empty promises at election time. What the High Command does is black ops.”

“Say what now?”

Ace bared one of his gleaming fangs as he stretched in his chair, feeding off Newman’s shock.

“Oh yes Andy. Commanders like me do all the dirty, dark things no one wants to talk about. We lie, we cheat, we steal, we kill, and all of it for the sake of survival. All of it necessary. All of it dirty deeds that have to be done by someone to keep a nation safe. I spent over a thousand years doing what you, your cronies, and the slime in a black suit like you always denounced and washed your hands of, because God forbid, you have to get your rosy little palms dirty and do something other than sling shit and take bribes... err... donations.”

Newman was silent.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things Andy,” resumed Ace after a pause. “A lot of people in my place probably wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror anymore. I literally have fangs and claws. Do you know how many creatures I’ve sunk my claws and fangs into? Do you have any idea how many aliens I slaughtered with bombs and lasers? I’ve lost count by now, but I do know that thanks to me, some alien life forms are now extinct. As a scientist, knowing that I caused it hurts. But I had to do it even though the only thing these creatures did wrong is to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, in the crossfire of wars so much bigger than them, they couldn’t even grasp what was going on if they tried.”

“So why kill them if they don’t know better?”

“Because it’s a zoo out there. There is no galactic union or some sort of galactic police force. It’s a primal place where you have to be a killer and where you can’t live in peace until you’re in charge. And even that peace doesn’t last long.”

Newman sighed and took a long swig of his whiskey. He wasn’t expecting Ace to divulge government secrets and he had no idea how to respond. All he could do is watch the melting ice cubes churn and tumble in the amber colored liquid.

“Andy, I’m not going to try and stop you or change your mind, or silence you,” continued Ace after giving Newman a few moments to think. “All I’m asking is that you just hold off for a bit and relax. We can’t handle the biggest war we’ve ever fought and a revolt on Earth against us and our companies. You have to prioritize your fights. I’m going to come back to Earth if I survive and you can fight with me to your heart’s content. You can fight with me until your testicles turn bright purple from the strain. But please, not now. Not with riots and protests.”

“The riots and protests are unfortunate,” purred the ex-Councilor, “but I’m sure you understand that as a commentator I have... particular obligations to my audience. I can’t just stop covering topics they care about because an alien commander tells me to.”

“Ok, here’s an idea. If you really want to regulate trade between the Earth and the Nation, why don’t you take a 3% stake in the Fusion GEC/Advanced Kinetics partnership and the board seat that goes with it? From what I understand, Andrea Gayle announced that she would be retiring in mid-3510 so the board of directors is looking for ways to manage 22% of all technology trade between us. I’m sure that someone with your media and political connections will be much appreciated. And all we ask in return is a little slack until we finish a very brutal and high stakes war. That’s all.”

“And where exactly does that stake come from?”

“A black ops group needs certain resources. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Newman finished his drink in two draws and slammed his glass on the stand next to the couch. He stood up and took a deep breath as he locked eyes with the cyborg on the screen.

“Very well Commander,” he said. “We’ll continue this after you finish your campaign and return safely.”