The War for Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 4)

by Daniel Arenson

  Tom and Leona returned fire. Several Aelonians fell. One of the enemy bullets grazed Tom's arm, slicing off a bit of skin and muscle. He grunted but kept firing. The last alien fell.

  Behind them, Xerka's shrieks were getting closer.

  "Our ship is Ra damn toast," Leona said, staring in disgust at the ravaged engine. "It would take hours to repair."

  Clutching his wound, Tom ran toward the capsule and grabbed their spacesuits.

  "We'll jump." He tossed Leona her helmet. "Like in the old days."

  Leona tilted her head, then grinned. "I mucking love you, Tom Shepherd."

  Even with the horror, the blood, the pain, he managed to smile and wink.

  The hangar door tore open, and Xerka burst into the room, howling for death.

  Tom and Leona kicked open the airlock door—and jumped.

  They dived toward the ocean world below. Their jetpacks roared, leaving trails of fire. Tom looked up once, and he saw Xerka standing in the airlock, staring down at him. Even from this distance, he could feel her eyes boring into him.

  He looked away.

  They glided into the atmosphere and flew over the water, heading toward a distant island.

  The Council was gathering, and Tom's chest tightened. Once more, iron encased his heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The Galactic Hall was under construction, but flying toward it, Leona could still see its beauty.

  It rose atop an island, shaped like a tulip blossom with four petals. She could judge its size by the shuttles circling it. The hall was colossal, larger than the greatest buildings from ancient Earth. Shimmering blue tiles covered one of the petals. Scaffoldings covered the other three wings, and robots were busy laying down more tiles. When completed, the building would shine like a beacon, visible to all horizons.

  Yes, it's a beautiful hall, on a beautiful world, Leona thought. And this beautiful place might soon doom humanity.

  She and Tom glided down and landed on the island. The Galactic Hall loomed above them, its four petals rising toward the sun. Shuttles kept landing around them, delivering ambassadors from thousands of motherships. Every alien that crawled, slithered, walked, flew, or swam was here. For the first time since the great war, the species of the galaxy were coming together.

  Leona stood for a moment on the shore, looking around her. She still held Arondight, her trusty rifle. Tom stood with her, his own gun raised. Many of the aliens were giving them the hairy eyeball—a few quite literally. A few muttered under their breath about the filthy apes. One spat at them.

  But Xerka wasn't here. Nobody was attacking. For now, that battle was over.

  And the true battle begins, Leona knew.

  They walked up the beach. Several aliens emerged from the water and crawled over the rocks. Other aliens flew above, flapping leathern wings. A towering alien stepped over Tom and Leona, his limbs like stilts. Other aliens buzzed between them, no larger than bumblebees but sentient enough to be Council members. A few aliens were robotic; they had abandoned their physical bodies long ago, and today traveled the galaxy inside their mechanical avatars.

  "They're all looking at us funny," Leona said. "They hate us. Even after everything, they hate us."

  Tom nodded. "Let them look. Let them laugh. All we can do is show them our nobility. Our pride. So we walk tall. And we'll tell our tale. We'll set the best example we can for humanity. And someday maybe we'll walk here as equals."

  Leona sighed. "It's hard to be optimistic. Especially without Melitar here to speak for us. We fought in the great war. We saved the galaxy. If our courage in battle wasn't enough, what will be?"

  Tom looked at her, seemed ready to speak, but closed his mouth. And Leona realized he was lost for words.

  Finally, he said, "I don't know. But your father chose us. He believed in us. And Emet Ben-Ari is the finest man I know. So I'll face these aliens, and I'll talk to them. I'll try to make our people back home proud. That's all we can do. Even without Melitar here, we have to try."

  "And if we fail?" Leona whispered.

  Tom said nothing. They both knew the answer.

  If they failed, if the Council awarded Earth to the basilisks …

  Then we're all dead, Leona thought.

  They continued walking in silence, climbing the hill toward the Galactic Hall.

  The doorway was enormous. It had to accommodate aliens the size of whales, after all. Several Peacekeepers stood guard. They wore heavy red armor and helmets; it was impossible to determine their species. When the Peacekeepers saw Tom and Leona, they drew their stun guns.

  The armored aliens glared.

  "Surrender your weapons, scum," a Peacekeeper said.

  Reluctantly, the pair handed over their guns. The Peacekeepers added them to a pile. The guards let Tom and Leona enter the hall, but kept their weapons trained on them.

  "Your old friends?" Leona whispered to Tom.

  The former Peacekeeper winced. "A time in my life I prefer to forget."

  Leaving the guards behind, they entered a grand foyer. Robots were still bustling in some areas, putting the final touches on the building. One wall already featured huge murals that spread from floor to ceiling. As they walked down the corridor, Tom and Leona gazed at these towering frescoes.

  At first, their eyes widened in wonder at the vibrant colors and sweeping compositions.

  But very soon, their hearts sank.

  "It's … about us," Leona whispered.

  Tom stared, silent, eyes dark. She saw his hands form fists.

  The first mural they passed featured human figures. They were painted hunched over, hook-nosed, with horns. They stood atop a pile of dead aliens. A second mural featured humans holding alien babies, sucking their blood. In a third mural, humans were bombarding planet Aeolis, capital of the Concord, the previous alliance of alien life. There were no scorpions depicted in that last painting; the humans were portrayed as the villains of the Galactic War, the destroyers of civilization.

  "Why?" Leona whispered, eyes stinging.

  Tom was silent, fuming.

  They continued passing by the murals. Every single one was about humans. Every one portrayed humans as monsters. No murals about the scorpion gulocks. Nothing about the basilisks butchering refugees. Nothing about any other tragedy in the galaxy. Fictionalized evil. Humans are monsters. It was the only theme, mural after mural.

  The last mural showed a hideous human, more like a goblin, clutching planet Earth in his claws. The planet was bleeding while the deformed human licked his bloody lips.

  There were plaques beneath the murals, providing information on humanity. Leona read some of the signs with burning eyes.

  Beware the human! He seeks to control the galaxy. A secret cabal of the apes plots to sink their claws into every star. To drink the blood of our young. They already devoured many worlds. Is your world next?

  Other plaques featured similar rhetoric, warning that humans were diseased, vampiric, the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

  Leona stood, staring, fists shaking. She wanted to point her jetpack's exhaust at the murals and burn the whole place down.

  "Why?" She forced the words past stiff lips. "How could they do this? We fought the scorpions! We saved the galaxy! And they still do this to us. They still hate us so much." She lowered her head, and her tears stung. "They've already made up their minds."

  "Leona." Tom placed a hand on her shoulder, and his voice was kind. "Do you know what separated Melitar from these aliens?"

  She turned to look at him, tears in her eyes. "What?"

  Tom smiled softly. "He met humans." He gestured at the murals. "Whoever painted these had never seen a human. They painted what they heard in tales. We're the galaxy's bogeyman. We've been the galaxy's bogeyman for thousands of years. A mythical monster. But once they actually meet us? Hear us speak? They'll see we're not monsters. Melitar saw. These aliens will too. Hatred stems from ignorance. You don't banish hatred with a fist. Y
ou banish it with a handshake. And that's what we're here to do. To shake hands." He glanced at a few aliens walking by. "Or hoofs. Or tentacles. It's all good."

  Leona couldn't help it. She laughed. She wiped away her tears and nodded. "All right. Let's go shake some hoofs."

  The corridor led them to the assembly hall. It was actually four halls—each visible from outside the building as a petal—all facing a central podium.

  Two of these towering chambers were filled with water. One with salt water, the other with fresh water. Thousands of aliens of Type A1 filled these aquariums. Type A1 aliens were the most common in the galaxy. They were biological, usually carbon based, and breathed water. Leona recognized a few of these species. There were the Gouramis, a race of benevolent fish with beautiful fins like rippling banners. She saw the Menorians too, sentient octopuses who communicated by changing color. Some of the aquatic aliens didn't even have solid forms; they swirled through the water like blobs of ink. A few were like the Harmonians; colonies of many tiny organisms who formed a hive intelligence. Both these watery halls, the salty and fresh, brimmed with alien lifeforms. Here swam ambassadors from thousands of ocean worlds.

  The third hall was filled with a fog of hydrogen and helium. Inside floated aliens who had evolved on gas giants. Here were the Type A3 aliens. Most reminded Leona of living balloons. Their bodies were puffy and lightweight, made for floating through thick atmospheres. Their worlds had no solid surfaces. These creatures could not walk, crawl, or slither. They hovered in their hall, mouths opening and closing, their tentacles streaming like ribbons. Some were tiny, barely larger than Leona's hand. Others were huge beings that looked like floating tents.

  The fourth hall, where Leona and Tom stood, had a stone floor and air composed of oxygen and nitrogen, an environment familiar to most terrestrial species. This hall included two main categories of aliens.

  The more advanced were of Type B. They had evolved as biological beings, but had abandoned their physical bodies. They now lived as consciousness inside machines. Some still had physical bodies that languished far away, attached to machinery with cables, remote-controlling their robotic avatars. Some had biological brains in their mechanical bodies. Others had no biological components at all; they had uploaded their brains into the matrix.

  Some might eventually become Type C aliens. At that stage, they would move beyond physical bodies altogether, biological or mechanical. They would then exist as beings of pure thought. The ancients, those mystical beings who had built the Tree of Light and given the weavers their power, were aliens of Type C. But such advanced lifeforms did not care for the lives of lower beings. They had no presence in this hall. At least, not that anyone knew of.

  Sharing the room with the Type Bs were the Type A2 aliens. Here was a broad category that included humans. There was no agreement on what exactly a Type A2 alien was. If you didn't belong to the other groups, they stuck you here. Most Type A2s breathed air and lived on land. Some lived underground in tunnels. Most were mobile. They could walk, crawl, slither, or fly. But some were sessile, possessing no self-locomotion. They were sentient mushrooms or plants, and they rode on motorized devices. Most Type A2s were carbon based, but some were silicon based.

  This group was arguably the most diverse. It not only included humans but most of their enemies. An ambassador from the defeated scorpion empire was here. So were ambassadors from other species humanity had fought throughout the ages. There was a delegation of Scolopendra Titania centipedes, the aliens who had invaded Earth two thousand years ago. The marauders were here too, giant spiders whom Leona's ancestors had fought.

  Among these aliens stood Xerka.

  When Leona saw the basilisk queen, she inhaled sharply and reached for her rifle. But the guards at the door had confiscated all weapons. Leona clenched her fists, ready to charge across the hall and fight the queen with tooth and nail. Tom had to put a hand on her shoulder, to calm her.

  "In this hall, we battle with words," Tom said. "If we attack her physically, we'd be doing her a favor."

  Xerka noticed them. Across the hall, the hybrid turned to stare, her human body balanced upon her serpent tail. Several other basilisks coiled around her. The queen blew Leona a mocking kiss, then grinned wickedly, her red eyes taunting.

  "One day I'm going to kill that bitch," Leona muttered.

  "I'll help you," Tom said. "But not today. Not here. Remember the murals in the corridor?"

  Leona snorted. "How could I forget?"

  "Our task here is to prove them wrong. Let's set an example. During the war, we showed these aliens that we're skilled warriors. Now let's show them that we can be peaceful too."

  Leona grunted. "You're peaceful. You're the flute player. I'm more about bashing things."

  Tom nodded. "Yes, I was only a cop for decade, then a rebel for another decade, then a soldier for the past couple of years. But we can't solve our problems by fighting forever. We have to make peace. You don't make peace with friends. You make peace with evil bastards who hate your guts."

  "Well, we've certainly come to the right place then," Leona muttered, glaring at a group of snickering aliens.

  Trumpets sounded. Peacekeepers arranged themselves around the central podium. The lights dimmed.

  An alien fluttered up to the podium. He reminded Leona of a drum. His skin was stretched tightly over a bony frame, and he communicated by vibrating that skin, producing hums and bangs. Leona's minicom translated the drumming.

  "Welcome, beings of the Milky Way galaxy!" said the alien. "From the ashes of war, we rise again. Old empires have crumbled. New empires rise. Much of the galaxy lies in ruins. The survivors, heroes of the war, look up to the stars, seeking to claim new homes. And so, we have gathered here, on this neutral world, to assign every star to its rightful owner. To set new borders. To create a new galactic order. And may peace reign forever!" The alien paused for cheers, then continued. "Every species will have a chance to speak, to lay claim to their territory. Let the great council begin!"

  One by one, aliens approached the podium.

  The first was a naked, birdlike being with a heavy beak. It reminded Leona of a plucked toucan. Its species inhabited a single star system, where it had colonized two planets and several moons. It lay claim to these worlds, and the Council voted. Leona and Tom voted too, using their minicoms. The vote passed nearly unanimously; the only objection came from a species of large worm that shared the same system. The naked bird returned to its perch, ownership of its system granted. The worm crawled away, defeated. The first worlds were drawn onto the new galactic map.

  Water flooded the podium, and a gilled alien swam up. It lay claim to its ocean world. This time, the vote passed unanimously.

  One by one, the aliens swam, walked, floated, or flew to the podium. Most asked for a single star system. Some asked for larger areas. A few of the more ambitious species claimed hundreds of stars, and disputes over fringe worlds lasted for what seemed like hours.

  Leona found herself dozing off. When she could take it no more, she sneaked out to the bathroom, then grabbed a bite at the local cantina. When she returned, she gave Tom a break. And still the aliens kept talking, bickering, sometimes shouting.

  The discussions continued for a day.

  Then two days. Then three.

  Tom and Leona napped in their seats. Ate in the cantina. Listened to hour after hour of aliens argue over who owned which star.

  There were a lot of stars in this galaxy. And a lot of aliens. And a lot of talking.

  But Leona tried to listen to them all. To vote when she understood the issues. She wanted to take part in this new galactic order. Not merely to claim her world and run back home. But to be part of something grander.

  We must be members of the galaxy, Leona thought, accepted among the other species. Like we were under the rule of Einav Ben-Ari long ago.

  Finally, on the fourth day, the Council decided to discuss Earth.

  Leona and Tom were dozin
g off when it was announced. They perked up at once. Both rose to their feet. Leona wasn't sure about Tom, but her heart was pounding.

  Yet the Council host did not call Tom and Leona to the podium.

  It was not humans summoned to speak for Earth.

  It was Xerka.

  As the twisting basilisk slithered toward the podium, she passed Tom and Leona. She paused to hiss words for their ears only.

  "Don't forget to vote." She scoffed. "It will amuse me to see a single vote for filthy apes."

  Xerka took the stage.

  She balanced atop the podium. For a long moment, she was silent. Thousands of aliens, from all four halls, stared.

  Finally Xerka pulled out a skull. A small, serpentine skull.

  She held it up, and tears filled her eyes.

  "This was my son."

  Silence filled the assembly hall.

  Xerka wiped her tears away.

  "He was a precious child," she said, voice choked. "I loved him. With the full love only a parent can know. How many of you have children?" She looked across the hall. "You know how much you love them."

  Leona inhaled sharply. She couldn't help but think of her own child who had died.

  Xerka's voice rose louder, trembling, torn with pain. "He was my son! And the humans murdered him!"

  Leona leaped to her feet. "Bullshit!" she cried.

  Her voice rang across the hall. Aliens glared at her, hissing. Several Peacekeepers placed their paws on their guns. Grumbling, Leona sat down, fists clenched in her lap.

  Xerka continued. "See how the humans mock my pain!" Her voice was hoarse, and she let out a sob. "They attacked our peaceful world. A beautiful world called Earth. It is not the only world in my empire. But it is the most precious. It is precious to me … Because it was where I was raising my child. Where so many basilisk mothers were raising their children." She pointed at Leona. "And then the humans attacked! Brutally, without mercy! Laughing as they slaughtered! They made me watch as they murdered my child—and they laughed! They laughed as I wept! I watched it all. How they suffocated him. How they drank his blood in their demonic rituals. How they tossed the bones at me in mockery."