Peace World (32 page)

The first thing he noticed was the breeze.  The evaporation it caused when it passed over his sweat-soaked body cooled him immediately.  The second thing he noticed was the scrap taking place at the front of the stage between Rala and another alien.  Then he saw the large male Minith on a raised portion at the center of the stage pointing a pulse pistol toward Rala and the other fighter. 

Grant's reflexes took over.  The round he sent toward the clown with the pistol struck the alien's upper body and spun him to the right.  The alien's shot went wild and took out a large corner of the screen above Grant's head. 

The armed Minith soldiers situated around the perimeter of the stage—who had appeared to be letting things progress on their own—suddenly seemed interested in the happenings on the stage.  Several of the soldiers' pulse rifles were turned in their direction at once.  Two released bolts of the deadly red pulses—one of which struck a human captive from the first container.  As a group, the remaining captives hit the floor to avoid being targeted. 
Good training
, Grant thought.

Conway opened fire on the armed aliens and was quite effective in her shot selection. 
Very good training
.  But the numbers were on the side of the Minith, and they quickly began returning fire.

It was at this point that Grant remembered the item he had tucked into the sleeve of his shirt.  He hit the ground, slipped the small, button-like device into his palm, and pushed it quickly three times.

CHAPTER 37

The sounds of Minith weapons and those irritating "oooh-ooohs" were immediately replaced by the sounds of hundreds of thousands of Minith bodies dropping to the ground.  After a moment filled by the strange sounds of muted thumping and rustling—and two single blasts from Conway's rifle—complete silence filled the air.

"Hold your fire, Conway."

"No shit, General."

Without exception, the humans and Telgorans stood up and gazed across the strange sight before them.  The massed crowds that had occupied the giant expanse of open area between the large stage and the mothership in the distance were still present.  The only difference was that they now lay in piles everywhere.

Like some type of strange alien puppets, one moment, they were up and active.  The next, their strings were cut and they all collapsed in place.

"What do we do now?" Titan asked. 

"If they aren't dead, I say we kill 'em all," Conway said.

"They aren't dead," Grant replied.  The Waa were clear that they were giving him a non-lethal weapon.  "But we're not killing them.  Patahbay, can you and your people gather the weapons from the soldiers around the stage?  Conway, check on our folks over there and see if any of them need medical attention."

"What about me?"

"Good question, Titan.  I suppose you can check to see if our host, Rala, is hurt.  I think we may need her soon."  Grant looked around, smiled.  "And you might want to check on Gee.  I think he's still in the container.  In the meantime, I'm going to see if I can't find what Aal and his people are up to."

*    *    *

Oiloo watched the humans go about the business of collecting weapons and checking the fallen Minith.  The day's events had not gone well at all.  Fortunately, he had orders that could help put everything right. 

"Captain, send orders out to all ships.  We are heading for Waa at once."

*     *     *

The Minith were out for an hour, more or less, when the first of the crowd began to stir.  Within two minutes of the first one coming to and looking around, every alien in the city seemed to have recovered.  From what the Waa told Grant, and from what he observed himself, none of them showed any negative effects, except for a few bruises caused by their initial collapse.

Once revived, the assembled aliens were visibly pissed.  They had no idea how long they had been out, only that some period of time had passed. 

Grant and his group were ready.  They stood spread out along the length of the stage—a mix of humans, Telgorans, and the Waa.  Aal and two others had relented to Grant's request to join them on the platform.  They provided a united front to the assembly.

The Minith weapons had been taken, and except for the ones handed out to the previously captured humans, were stacked at the center of the raised dais.  In front of the stacked weapons, Grant had laid the body of the former governor.  Truk's purple-splattered corpse was easily visible on the large screen behind the stage.  Bound in position to chairs on each side of the body sat Ghin and Rala.  The guards that had been positioned around the perimeter of the stage were also bound in place.  When they awoke, they struggled against their binds, but Titan had used the tightest knots he could remember from his days on the farm.  They weren't getting loose unless they had help.  On the whole, it was an overly macabre scene—but one which made a statement to the assembled Minith. 

For those who might have missed the statement the humans were trying to make, Grant announced, "We have killed your leader.  His replacement, as well as his former aide and guards, are restrained."  His Minith was perfect, and his declaration had the effect of silencing the growing murmurs and grumbles coming from the awakened aliens.

"We could have killed each of them while they slept," he continued, then pointed to the crowd.  "We could have killed each of you.  But we did not.  Because we are not killers.

"We are humans from the planet Earth.  But then…I'm sure you already knew that."  Grant struggled for the right words.  He had never been a good public speaker—it was why he had relied so heavily on Mouse to speak with the Leadership Council.  He could never find just the right words.  He opted for open honesty with the Minith.  They would either relent to his proposal or not, but he would not hold back.

"Your race came to our planet almost twenty years ago.  You had no consideration for our way of life, our ideals, or our principles.  You simply enslaved our workers, stole our resources, and killed our people.

"Because of your actions, we gave up our way of living—we gave up our Peaceful existence.  We reverted to our old ways—the ways of fighting and war.  We overcame your force, seized your mothership, and destroyed
your
home planet of Minith."

A hum of anger passed through the crowd as the Minith wrestled with the conclusiveness of Grant's statement.

"It makes you angry, doesn't it—to have another race come to your planet and kill your people?  Well, remember, it was you who landed the first blow.  And we will make no apologies for our actions because they were made in self-defense against an evil empire.  That's what you are to the races you have come up against:  humans, Telgorans, the Waa.  You are evil.

"Fortunately for you, we are
not
evil.  We don't want to kill you or enslave you.  We just want to be free to go about our lives without having to wonder when you're coming back to attack us again.  The only way to do that, however, is to dominate you—because that's the only thing you understand.  Your very nature requires that we subjugate you, keep you oppressed.

"As they say where I come from, 'It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.'  Well, that someone is me.  From this moment forward, I'm your new leader.  By your laws, I've earned the right.  I've killed your leader and captured his replacement.  When I pass on—or if, by chance, any of you green clowns manages to kill me—another human, or a Telgoran, or one of the Waa, will take my place." 

Grant paused, certain he would hear grumbling or complaint—if not a full-out rebellion—at the declaration.  But the Minith just watched, without any visible or verbal sign that they agreed, disagreed, or even understood what he was saying.  He was fully prepared to hit the snooze button in his right palm again if needed.  But it wasn't, so he forged on.

"Within your race, you will be free to act as you wish, and select your leaders as you see fit.  But until you've proven that you are capable of leading without fear, intimidation, or threats, you won't ever hold the reins of power outside of your race. 

"That's all I have to say for now.  I hope we understand each other."

Several heartbeats passed before Grant heard any sound.  And when the sound came, it came from behind him.  He turned to see Rala begin the now-familiar grunting.

"Oooh-oooh-oooh.   Oooh-oooh-oooh."

Like a ripple, the chant was picked up by the guards tied to their positions at the perimeter of the stage, then it moved to the front rows of the crowd, then to the Minith standing behind them.  In less than a minute, the strange chant reached the farthest edge of the crowd and it continued to grow as Grant watched, enthralled.

"You silver-tongued devil," Sergeant Conway jibed.  She was all smiles and poked him firmly in the ribs. 

"Release Rala, Conway," he replied, trying his best to keep his game face firmly planted.  He was conscious of still being viewed on the large screen behind them.  The last thing he wanted to show was any sign of the nervous relief pounding through his body.  "She needs to get us out of here, asap."

"You got it, General."

CHAPTER 38

Grant, Rala, and Patahbay waited patiently in Grant's board room on the damaged mothership.  He and the rest of his contingent had decided that taking up residence aboard the vessel made more sense than seeking out new accommodations on Waa.  The governor's mansion was the most likely choice for a residence, but he had quickly ceded that location to Rala.  She was the Minith governor, after all.  Plus, her former quarters only served to remind her of the loss she had experienced there.  She was much more affected by the loss of Teng than he had previously realized.  He now knew that Minith mothers feel just as much pain as their human counterparts—they just do not let it show on the outside.

As a compromise with his team for staying on the old mothership, he had asked Aal and the Waa if they could build them a new vessel.  Grant had requested some unique "variations" over the current designs the Minith had been using.  Grant's version included military upgrades, improved landing capabilities that did not require rocket thrust, and a highly improved communication system.  All of the items he asked for were within the abilities of the Waa to provide, and he could not help but wonder why the Minith had never asked for improved systems and equipment for their vessels.  It probably had something to do with their being only a "five" on the intelligence scale, he decided, but never verbalized.  He wanted the capability to fight potential foes from space, if it ever came to that.

Considering who they were waiting for, it might come to that sooner rather than later.

A week after taking control of Waa, a fleet of Zrthn ships had appeared in the skies above the city.  According to the Waa, they numbered in the dozens, with over twenty more still situated outside the planet's atmosphere.  It was apparent they were not pleased with the turn of events that had placed the largest deposit of pure agsel into the hands of an unknown race and were making a statement.  None of them knew if the statement was a prelude to a planned takeover of Telgora, or if it was a warning that shipments needed to continue.  Either way, Grant bristled at the implications.  Once again, they were being pushed around by a foreign race whose primary concern was only for their own good.

They would know soon enough what the Zrthns' intentions were.  The leader of the Zrthn force and two of the ships' captains were due to arrive at any moment.  The fact that they felt confident enough to have this meeting on Waa spoke volumes.  With the insurance of armed battleships in the sky overhead, they obviously weren't concerned for their safety.

A knock on the door announced the guests' arrival, and Grant stood as the three Zrthns entered the room.  He withheld his surprise at their appearance.  After meeting the Telgorans, Minith, and Waa—all bipeds, with somewhat similar features to humans—he had expected more of the same.  But the Zrthns looked more like walking squids than anything else he could imagine.  He did a quick count and came up with a count of six tentacles—four of which moved them across the floor.  The other two acted as arms and had several mini-tentacles—for lack of a better word—attached, which they used like hands and fingers. 

The three positioned themselves on the far side of the conference table and remained standing.  Grant wondered if they could sit, and, if they could, what their chairs might look like.  Rala introduced the lead squid—Zrthn—to Grant as Oiloo, and the name tweaked a memory.  He had heard the name before, and by the time he recalled when and where, he had already missed the names of the other two Zrthns, the captains.

Grant took a deep breath and waited for the Zrthns to begin.  The language they had agreed to use would be Minith, since the Zrthns had no knowledge of Earth-based languages, and Grant did not yet speak Zrthn.  He already had an appointment for the Zone later in the day to rectify that shortcoming, but for now, he had to keep to what he knew.

"We wish to discuss the deliveries of agsel," Oiloo stated, directing the comment to Rala.  Grant liked how the alien got right to the point.  No political chit-chat for this guy.

"What do you wish to discuss?" Grant asked in return.  He wanted Oiloo to understand with whom he was actually dealing.  He also did not want Rala's emotions entering into the discussions.  If this was the same Oiloo who had ordered Teng's death, they needed to handle the issue carefully.

"We have agreements with the Minith regarding shipments of the ore," Oiloo stated.  His words came out wet and mushy, and the sound reinforced the "squid" likeness in Grant's mind.  "Due to the new… arrangements, we would like to know if previous agreements will be honored."

Prior to the meeting, Rala had brought him up to speed on the agreements the Minith had in place with the Zrthns, as well as the problems they had been encountering as a result of the human interaction on Telgora.  In turn, he had met with Patahbay.  He could not force the race of underground dwellers into any agreement against their will, and wanted to see where the Telgorans stood on the issue.  Remarkably, the Telgorans were extremely receptive—almost to the point of being giddy—over the idea.  There was only one condition: the Waa had to conduct the mining, not the Minith.  Grant quickly closed the loop with Aal, and a deal was struck.  The two races would pick up where they had left off years before.  Grant made one tweak to the previous agreement.  In exchange for their ore, the Waa had to ensure the Telgorans received adequate compensation—not merely the trinkets and comfort items they had been given before.