Peace Army (7 page)

Grant laughed. “Nah, these are called roller blades. ‘Cool’ is just something we used to say when I was younger,” he explained. “It means that something is new and exciting.”

“Yeah. As in ‘these roller blades are cool,’” Eli explained. Grant knew Eli was used to his anachronisms and his use of ancient phrases, but it was kind of “cool” to see his son explain them to someone.

“Cool,” the leader agreed.

“What’s your name, son?” Grant asked the leader.

“Jonah.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jonah.” Grant leaned down and held out his hand. Jonah just stared at the proffered appendage.

“You’re supposed to grab it and shake it,” Eli explained. He rolled over to the younger boy who had received a smack from Jonah earlier, grabbed his right hand, and pumped it twice. “Like this.”

The younger boy smiled and returned the handshake. Grant knew that Eli had just made a friend.

All eyes turned to Jonah as he slowly reached up and took Grant’s hand. He imitated the two pumps.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, General Justice.”

Grant grinned at the formal Standard speech. Jonah had good manners, which was a promising sign.

“Great. Now that we’ve got some of the introductions out of the way, I think it might be a good idea for you boys to try roller blading. Would you like that?” Grant asked.

He was met by a chorus of shouts and cheers.

When the initial excitement died down, Grant explained that the only roller blades in existence were the pairs he and Eli wore. However, he promised to talk with Senior Scientist Tane Roland the next day and assured them that they would get their chance to roller blade soon.

The group then spent ten minutes checking out his and Eli’s blades. Eli showed them what he could do after only an hour or so of blading, and they were all hooked. Without exception, the boys seemed excited about the possibility of wearing blades of their own.

While Eli demonstrated his new talents, Grant pulled Jonah aside for a private discussion. It was time to begin Leadership Training 101.

“Respecting your subordinates” was the topic.

* * *

The experience at the orphanage reminded Grant of his teen years. It also gave him something else to worry about.

By the time he and Eli returned to their quarters, he knew it was important that they raise the boys and girls in the orphanages in a more structured manner. They were cared for by competent adults and received formal schooling, but the incident with Jonah was a clear indicator that something was missing. The older kids were already leading their groups. It just wasn’t structured, positive leadership. That would need to change.

From his personal experiences as a young boy, Grant knew the groups needed organized activities to keep them occupied. Hanging around their quarters, with no outlet for their energy, was a powder keg waiting for a match. Fortunately, that problem was a bit more manageable. A large stretch of the Fourth Square was currently unoccupied. It would be a perfect place to set up an area where the orphans, and anyone else who felt so inclined, could rollerblade to their heart’s content.

For the second time in less than two hours, Grant’s entry into his home was met by the sight of fresh blue paint. The colorful walls warmed his heart and stoked the feelings he held for his wife.

The walls also gave him another idea.

Paintball.

Why couldn’t they set up a paintball area as well? The open area in the Fourth Square was large enough. That would give the children an outlet for fun while helping them learn teamwork and develop tactical skills.

Grant’s thoughts ran to other activities they could put together with some help from Tane’s R&D team: bicycling, skateboarding, Frisbee, golf. The possibilities were numerous, and all would help the orphans expend energy, increase physical fitness, and foster competition.

There was only one problem.

Who would want to oversee the program? You couldn’t just toss a bunch of kids into such an area without supervision or direction.

Grant put Eli to bed and joined Avery in their bedroom. He flopped tiredly onto the bed and looked at the walls of the small room. Forest green. It was his favorite color and another surprise from Avery. She never stopped.

He looked to where she sat in front of a small mirror. She ran a brush slowly through her hair—it was a part of her nightly pre-bed ritual.

Grant mentioned his idea about setting aside part of the Fourth Square to Avery. She thought it was an excellent idea. He also mentioned the problem of finding someone to manage it, and she surprised him once again.

“I can do it,” she volunteered.

“Really? Do you have time for that?”

“Grant, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she teased, “but our little boy is not so little anymore.”

“He’s only five.”

“He will be six soon. And if I know Eli, he will want to spend all his time in the Fourth Square. Especially since he can’t visit Treel any longer. He’s going to need another outlet. I think it’s perfect.”

Grant considered her words and recognized that she was correct, as usual.

“You’re going to need help, hon. We have a lot of kids here.”

“We’ll set up a schedule. Rotate the groups in regularly,” Avery said. The brush flowed through her hair slowly. Grant could tell that her mind was already working on the issues, ironing out wrinkles and solving problems.

“I’ll get Sue to help.”

“Sue?” Grant asked. “Won’t her flight training get in the way?”

Sue was Mouse’s wife and a pilot on one of his top carrier fighter teams. She and Mouse were a team in Violent’s Prison and had stayed together after their formal release. They had been married almost as long as Grant and Avery.

“Not now,” Avery said. The beginnings of a smile forced the edges of her mouth upward. She put the brush down and turned toward Grant. He was struck by the full effect of her radiance as her smile turned into a grin. She moved toward the bed and held her hands over her tummy. “She’s going to have other things to focus on for a while now.”

It took Grant a moment, but he suddenly understood and laughed.

Mouse and Sue had been trying to have a baby for years with no luck. Less than a month before, Mouse had confided to Grant that he didn’t know if it would ever happen.

“Oh, that’s great! Does Mouse know yet?”

Avery laughed and lay down beside Grant.

“She’s probably telling him the news right now.”

Chapter 7

The topic of the approaching Minith ship dominated the daily Command Meeting, as usual. The difference between this and previous discussions was now the apparent presence of Titan on the ship. Titan’s single communication with Earth had been short and succinct. He was landing at the previous site of the Minith mothership, and there were no Minith on board.

While it was a relief to most of those in the command meeting that the ship didn’t hold thousands of Minith warriors, there were a lot of unanswered questions. Was Titan alone? Where had he been for the past six years? And most important, had he succeeded in destroying the alien’s home planet?

There were just too many things they did not know.

As a result, Grant was taking a cautious approach. While he hoped the former leader of Violent’s Prison was on board and in control of the alien vessel, he wasn’t going to accept it on blind faith. He knew from his earlier dealings with the Minith, and through his interactions with Treel, that they were an intelligent, aggressive race. They could be pulling a Trojan horse, for all he knew. It wasn’t the smartest play on their part, but it was certainly possible.

Regardless, he planned to arrive at the landing site with a full battle contingent. All would be armed and ready to rock and roll.

He provided the orders to his subordinates, who would set that plan in motion. Several had questions on deployment matters, which he patiently answered. He took no shortcuts in his explanations, issued no reprimands for uncertainty. It was imperative that they understood what was expected of them and their forces.

When their battle plan was in place, Grant moved on to the topic that had kept him awake the night before—the orphans who lived in the Council-run shelters around the world, including the ones here in Violent’s Prison. His interactions with the boys—and with Jonah in particular—had affected him deeply.

Grant knew the issue was not the most pressing matter that should be engaging his attention, especially with the Minith ship only two days away, but he couldn’t deny the pull. For the first time in his life, the portion of his being that was a soldier was overridden by a more powerful portion of his being—the father. Ever cognizant of the internal forces that drove him, Grant realized it, understood it, and accepted it as fact.

“Tane, where do we stand on production of weapons? Any change there?”

The scientist was seated at the far end of the long table.

“No. No change,” the scientist acknowledged. “We are still producing weapons in all our factories. As you know, we do not have enough soldiers to wield them, so we are storing them in secure facilities around the world. Each Culture now has a significant surplus—probably more than they will need for decades to come.”

“Okay.” Grant nodded, swallowed. “Since we have all the weapons we can handle, I’d like to turn our attention to something else.”

He waited for someone to object or question why. Not one of the dozen in the room did. They merely looked at him and waited for them to explain what was needed. It was a sign that they trusted him implicitly and would follow his lead. It was a sign that he held too much control, too much influence, too much power. He knew that if he proposed mass-producing silk flowers, and gave a half-reasonable explanation, they would do just that. It was a dangerous power, and he wondered,
How do none of them see this as a problem
?

He took a breath, rubbed his temples for a few seconds, and refocused on what was needed.

“I want to produce roller blades and paintball guns in those factories.”

A few eyebrows were raised, but no one objected, even though no one besides he and Tane knew what roller blades were. And Tane had no idea what a paintball gun was.

Grant explained his ideas about setting up leadership training for the orphaned youngsters and the need to provide them with outlets for their energy in a safe, controlled environment. They would begin the effort with the children located within the prison, then, as they perfected the equipment and processes, would implement the program at the rest of the orphanages around the world.

When his plan was fully laid out before the group, Randalyn Trevino, who had accepted a seat to the left of Tane, raised her hand. As the N’mercan Culture Leader, she could have commanded the far chair, but refused to displace Tane from his normal seat.

“Yes, Culture Leader Trevino?” Grant recalled Tane’s request to treat Randalyn with the respect due to someone in her position and, since he did respect her a great deal, it wasn’t difficult.

“It sounds like a very good plan, General Justice,” Randalyn stated. “What support do you require of the Leadership Council?”

Grant mentally kicked himself for not thinking to pass the idea by the Leadership Council before announcing it to his staff. He glanced at Mouse seated to his right and saw the barest hint of a smile. The pilot’s unerring sense of political savvy was obviously a step of ahead of Grant’s.

“Leader Trevino, I’m glad you asked,” Grant conceded as he fumbled for a way to save face. “It would be much appreciated if the Council could announce the plans for this effort on a global basis.”

“I am certain that can be arranged. Anything else?”

“Um… just your … uh… continued support, Leader.”

Randalyn dipped her head in agreement. Her smile surpassed the one on Mouse’s face and Grant realized she knew the affect his gaff was having on him. It caused him to smile and dip his head in kind. Grant understood why she had been elected by her Culture as their representative on the Council.

Grant’s stumble, and the way it had been tactfully recognized and handled, made him revise his previous assessment of the danger he posed to the current world. He was powerful, but obviously not capable of performing the political calisthenics that would be required to take over the world. The knowledge widened his smile and helped him gather his composure.

The rest of the command meeting progressed as normal and without further incident. As a group, they settled on the details of producing thousands of pairs of roller blades and Grant made an appointment to get with Tane on the specifications for a workable paint gun.

Despite his initial objections over having any role in arming children with weapons, even the nonlethal type, Mr. Blue agreed to help Avery coordinate the efforts within the prison. Having the approval of his Culture Leader obviously helped.

Blue would also have responsibility for implementing similar programs at the other orphanages across the globe. Grant was glad to have Blue engaged. It would lessen the chance that he would interfere.

* * *

Grant took Mouse aside as the meeting broke up.

“Hey there, buddy.” Grant pulled Mouse’s sleeve and they retreated to a far corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. “How are things?”

Mouse was all dimples and gold teeth.

“Avery told you, huh?”

“It’s true, then? You gonna be a daddy?” Grant felt excited for his friend. Being a father was a feeling unlike any other, and he was anxious for Mouse to feel the joy for himself.

“It appears so, my friend. It does appear so.”

The two men laughed at the news and Grant drew Mouse into a quick embrace, slapping him on the back.

“Well, congratulations! You’re gonna be a great dad. How is Sue doing?”

“She’s very happy. She’s not so happy about being grounded for the next year or so, but that’s no big surprise.” Mouse’s fighter force was made up of a large number of women. They’d had to establish a no-fly policy early on for pregnant women, and Sue would have to comply, for both her health and the baby’s.