by Andy Kasch
“Yes,” Belle-ub said. “Wide enough for us to protect the entire continent from any automated weapons discharge inside our atmosphere.”
“What’s the vertical range?”
“Same as that of the REEP system. As I have already stated, only minor tweaks were needed to adapt the technology for our purposes.”
Olut6 sneered. “So, it’s just as ineffective as the ground-REEP project would have been.”
“It’s been used several times in the last week alone, General, and we have found it to be most satisfactory. We’ve stopped hostile activity in air above us, including putting an end to a rather sizeable battle between the Dirgs and Latians.”
“But you can’t stop a projectile weapon fired from above our atmosphere,” Olut6 said. “And that’s all it would take to destroy your beautiful new arena.” The sarcasm in his voice was unrestrained.
“We have standard tracking devices and coordinated laser weapons mounted on the stadium. When we finish construction, more will be in place.” Belle-ub leaned on a work station and pressed a button. One of the screens showed an illustration of what the completed stadium would look like. In the area currently under construction, two large laser weapons were mounted at the top.
Belle-ub continued. “But to be fair, General, you are correct. We will be somewhat vulnerable here, as are all targets in Tora, and would hope for some protection from you.”
Olut6 shook his head. “Can you not see the absurdity of that request? You hope for protection from military forces you refuse to cooperate with, and, in your own words, do not recognize the authority of. You won’t cancel the tournament when I order you to—at the point of engaging me in battle, no less—and then ask me to protect you? I can’t help you if you refuse to help me.”
“Let us make amends, then.” Belle-ub pushed another button on the station in front of him, and a small metal tube extended from it. He removed it and handed it to Olut6. “Here you have the complete schematic of our defense system, including the blueprints to the bunker and arena. Nothing is being kept from you. You wanted to know how we are capable of disabling weapons systems in our atmosphere, and now you hold in your hands the key, down to the last detail.”
Olut6 accepted the computer drive and said, “For now, why don’t you just explain how it works?” His tone was calm again. Belle-ub’s diplomacy appeared to be working on him.
“Certainly, General. The magnetic repulsion takes the form of—”
“Frequency disturbance rather than particle repulsion,” Olut6 said. “I figured it out. You’re right. It may not be all that useful in the current age, but it’s simple.”
Olut6 turned to Brandon. “You knew about this?”
“No,” Brandon said, looking around. “I didn’t know about this.”
*
“Well that was fast.” Kayla sunk her chin into her palm and stared at the game frame. “Now I remember why I hate this game. It really sucks.”
“Sucks to lose, you mean.” Jumper stood up. “Especially the first few minutes after. Kayla, you had no chance against me.”
“Sucks,” Kayla repeated. She remained motionless.
Jumper came around to her side of the table. Only two other games were still in progress on the field, both between Torian natives. The Sinlo Mountain champ was one of the players still alive.
“Come on.” Jumper extended his hand to her. “Let’s go. I don’t want to leave Alan alone too long. Come to think of it, this was foolish and I shouldn’t have let you irk me into it.”
Kayla surrendered her hand and Jumper pulled her up. A small group of natives in the stadium seats stood and clapped as the two of them made their way back across the field towards the exit. Jumper noticed them, but didn’t mention it to Kayla. She was really dragging along. That wasn’t like her. But Jumper knew what this game could do to a person. As they exited the field, he put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek.
Kayla instantly perked up and smiled enchantingly.
“Made you kiss me!” she said, and bolted up ahead of him on the exit ramp. That little twerp. Jumper ran after her, but was intercepted by a native holding a lightpad.
“You’re the Earth champion?” he said.
“Um …yes.”
“I’m Wot7, the tournament director. Your name?”
“Jumper.”
“No number?”
“No number. Just Jumper. From the Earth colony in the cities.”
He entered something on the lightpad.
“All right. You’re bracketed in. All competitors play in the first heat tomorrow morning. The games must start on time. Latecomers forfeit the match. This is a single-elimination tournament. You’re at table six and will play the Latian champion in the first round. Tulros.”
Kayla was standing behind the tournament director. Her playful smiled vanished completely when Jumper responded, “Okay. See you then.”
“You’re not actually playing in this thing tomorrow, are you?” she said as they began climbing the many steps to get back to Belle-ub’s terrace.
Jumper shrugged. “Let me have my day as the Earth champ, will you? You heard the tournament director. When I don’t show up in the morning, I simply forfeit and the Latians win the match—whoever they are.”
“I know you, Jumper. Are you willing—or even capable—of walking away without playing, and conceding defeat by forfeit?”
“Right now I’m only concerned about Alan. Hol4 too, as it seems he has become my responsibility. I need to talk to Uncle Brandon about both of them. Whatever Uncle Brandon says, that’s what I’ll do.”
“Good,” Kayla said. The relief in her voice was obvious. She obviously calculated the chances of Brandon condoning Jumper playing polwar—in any form, ever—to be zero.
Kayla compensated for her loss at the table by clearly outpacing Jumper on the climb back up the stairs. By the time they reached the terrace level, Jumper was puffing heavily from trying to keep up with her. He stopped, leaned over, placed his hands on his knees, and attempted to recuperate.
“Something’s going on,” Kayla said. She didn’t sound the least bit winded.
Jumper looked up. Belle-ub’s terrace was much more crowded than when they left. At least twenty aliens were now there, different species gathered in groups of three or four.
“Come on,” Jumper said. They ducked into the stadium hallway and hurried to the archway that led to the terrace, but an armed Torian guard stopped them.
“It’s all right,” one of the red Sheen said from under the archway. “Let them through.”
The assortment of aliens on the terrace was every bit as visually diverse as those Jumper and Kayla noticed throughout the village last night. It was hard to imagine intelligent beings coming in so many different shapes, sizes, and colors. Jumper recognized the Dirgs—from when Brandon and Belle-ub left with them in their shuttle two nights ago—but none of the others. The aliens appeared unhappy. Several of them were arguing.
Alan and Hol4 were pushed up against the back railing of the terrace. Jumper and Kayla made their way through the crowd to reach them. Jumper noticed Kayla was extra careful not to brush up against the Dirgs when she squeezed by.
Alan didn’t look good. The color in his face was gone again. He was leaning out over the railing, plainly uncomfortable at being crowded in like this. Neither of the Sheen who were supposed to be watching him was with him. Hol4 didn’t seem thrilled to be there, either.
“Alan, how are you feeling?” Jumper asked.
“Not great,” Alan said. At least that was a coherent answer.
“Did you see Kayla and me playing, down on the field?”
“Saw you on the video.” Alan looked up at one of the screens. “You and Kayla. Saw you on the video. Playing. Playing on the video screen.”
Well, not that coherent. Where were those red Sheen? Jumper looked around the patio and saw one of them mixed in with the aliens two layers away. Jumper tried to wave at him.
“Saw you kiss her, too,” Alan said. “You kissing Kayla. Up on the big video screen.”
Jumper shook his head while Kayla flashed him a smile that betrayed pure delight. She put her hand on Alan’s back.
“You want to go inside and sit down, Alan?” It was the sweetest sounding tone Jumper ever heard come out of Kayla’s mouth.
“No,” Alan responded. “No inside.”
There was a sudden commotion on the terrace and then the aliens all quieted down and faced forward. Jumper stretched his neck up and over, looking for a line of sight to see what was happening through. Finally, his vision found a narrow passage between the oddly-shaped heads and shoulders.
Belle-ub had returned and was standing in front of the entrance to the conference room. Brandon, Olut6, and Olut6’s three soldiers were there with him, but had separated themselves from Belle-ub and were turned sideways facing him.
“I know why you’ve come,” Belle-ub said.
No one spoke. Belle-ub continued.
“Fortunately, the Banorian military commander is here with us. He can address your concerns. I invite you all inside. Soldiers and guards, please stay out here so we’ll have enough room.”
Belle-ub turned and entered the conference room. He was followed by Olut6 and Brandon, and then the aliens filed in behind, the two other red Sheen mixed in with them.
“I’m going in,” Jumper said.
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Of course you are. And you want us to stay out here and take care of Alan.”
“Yes, thanks.” Jumper didn’t wait for more arguing and followed the procession. There wasn’t much room left in the conference room, so he remained standing just inside the doorway. But what he saw from there looked almost comical.
Belle-ub sat in the big throne-chair on top of the steps at the far side of the room. His two companions had made their way there as well, and were now sitting in the smaller throne chairs on either side below him.
“This is the new Amulen seat of government,” Belle-ub announced. “Right here in this room. Its birthplace is here, and here is will it will grow. You are all greatly privileged, but we are also honored by your presence.”
Belle-ub pointed to the table. “These twelve seats are where the representatives will have their voices heard, and where our policies will be drafted. One seat for each continental delegate, although I expect several to remain vacant for a short period. One for the traditional Sheen order, which I expect to remain permanently vacant. One seat for a Banorian representative, one for Cardinal-4, and one each for the other non-native races who reside in Tora.”
Jumper watched Brandon and Olut6 as Belle-ub spoke. Brandon’s face remained unchanged, but Olut6’s was clearly forming a grimace.
Belle-ub continued. “Now, our first assembly has yet to convene, so we will inaugurate this facility with an interstellar council. Considering the occasion, it seems appropriate. Would the one of you—and only the one of you—who speaks for each of your races, please take a seat? Any seat you choose.”
There was some mumbling and jostling, and for a minute Jumper didn’t think the aliens would comply with the request. But then one of the Dirgs sat down. Shortly afterwards, another sat. He was from an incredibly thin species and seemed to know the Dirg representative, as they nodded to each other. Those two set the precedence. One member from each of the remaining four races gradually followed suit and claimed a seat. Jumper found he suddenly had more room and moved inside the doorway a little more.
“General?” Belle-ub motioned to the table.
“I’ll remain standing, thanks,” Olut6 said.
Belle-ub frowned at that remark. Jumper saw Brandon also shoot Olut6 a look of disapproval before Brandon stepped forward, as if to take a seat.
“Jumper,” Belle-ub said. His voice was booming and direct. It stopped Brandon in his tracks.
Jumper looked at Belle-ub and raised his eyebrows. Was he about to be scolded for slipping in here uninvited?
“You may take your proper seat, as the Earthling representative.”
Jumper looked at Brandon, who cocked his head, chuckled, and backed up against the wall again. Olut6 glared at Jumper. Jumper felt his face involuntarily contort. He looked out to the terrace. Kayla, Alan, and Hol4 were still up against the rail. Kayla was pointing down at something while talking to Alan.
Jumper turned back around, stepped forward, and quietly sat down. Brandon was still chuckling. Olut6 had turned his glare back to Belle-ub.
“Now then,” Bell-ub said. “Admiral Hochob of Dirg, since you were first to sit, why don’t you speak first. What is your request?”
“The light weapon,” the Dirg leader replied dryly. It was as if he was placating Belle-ub with his answer, and he hissed slightly afterwards.
“What about the light weapon?” Belle-ub asked.
“If the source and technology is to be disclosed, we will not be excluded from that information.”
“What leads you to suspect such information will be disclosed?”
The Dirg motioned around the table. “It’s why they’re all here. So we came, too. In case you will reveal the technology. We would not be left out.”
Belle-ub then looked at the alien spokesperson with the thin, wide head. “Inquisitor Errshlin of Latia, is this correct?”
So those were the Latians. Their appearance was intriguing, but they didn’t strike Jumper as being particularly formidable polwar opponents. Appearances were not reliably indicative of such things, of course—but often, first impressions were. Jumper caught himself. Why was he thinking about that? He was going to forfeit the match, anyway—wasn’t he?
“We made concessions in your mediated peace negotiations,” the Latian Inquisitor responded, “partially because we did not strongly suspect the light weapon to be something possessed by the Torians. The time has come for straight answers. I’ve witnessed the light weapon twice now. You claimed knowledge of its origin at the peace talks, and vaguely implied responsibility for it. Now we’ve seen it wielded again, this time deployed from your space station. All of us here are more or less in concurrence. This technology of yours must be fully disclosed.”
“Interesting,” Belle-ub said. “You are resolute enough to come here and make demands, even when the weapon you speak of was first discovered as it was coming to your aide? And has only been witnessed thus far in defensive actions? You still view it as a threat?”
“Yes,” the Latian Inquisitor said. “We do.”
Belle-ub calmly went around the table, giving each alien spokesperson a chance to voice their thoughts. The issue was the same. They all agreed that no race in the Erobian Sphere could be allowed sole possession of such an unheard of weapon of mass destruction as was seen defending the Torian space station last night. The technology must be shared, they contended. Two of the alien commanders phrased their demand in a way that sounded close to being a blatant threat. When they finished, Belle–ub looked across the room to Olut6, who was still standing with his back against the wall.
“General? Do wish to address this council?”
Olut6 leaned forward and began walking around the far side of the table. The aliens who were standing stepped out of his way as he came near them. His silence was unsettling and his gait deliberate. As he arrived on Belle-ub’s side, Belle-ub’s two companions looked apprehensive—as though they partly-expected to have to stand and defend Belle-ub physically. But Olut6 passed right by them and continued circling the table, displacing more standing aliens as he moved. The energy he emitted was not something to be spontaneously opposed, and everyone could sense it. When he had made a complete orbit, and was back on the far side of the table directly across from Jumper again, he spoke.
“Who attacked us last night?”
The sitting alien commanders glanced back and forth at each other, but no one responded.
Olut6 continued. “Banor and our space station were ruthlessly attacked by an unidentified race. Early reports place the
casualty count in the thousands, including many innocent civilians. Does no one in this room know the identity of the attackers?”
More silence. The alien commanders stopped looking at each other and only waited on Olut6. He obliged them.
“So—you storm in here with thinly-veiled threats, demanding from us what you can only perceive as classified military intelligence, but offer no information in exchange? This after sitting idly by, watching us murdered in an unprovoked attack, not coming to our aide, and not offering us any manner of help in our current crisis? Do I assess the situation correctly?”
The Dirgs could be heard hissing and their bodies seen rapidly pulsating, but no one spoke.
Finally, the Latian Inquisitor responded. “How can we provide information that we ourselves lack?”
Olut6 made a snorting sound that sounded not much different than Kayla’s. It reminded Jumper to turn around and check on his friends. They were still at the rail on the deck, but Kayla was looking towards the conference room and had her arms folded in front of her.
“There are nineteen different races visiting on this occasion,” Olut6 said. “I find it extremely difficult to believe not one of you is able to identify the attackers.”
“But only six of us are here now,” one of the other alien commanders responded.
“Yes, only six.” Olut6 circled the table again. “If none in this room is able to offer us any information, perhaps one of the others is. Videos of the attackers are posted on the Torian general broadcasting station. You would seek to learn the source of the light weapon? We will disclose nothing while the identity of the attackers remains unknown to us. I suggest you talk with the others. I might find myself in a more agreeable mood if I had some cooperation. Otherwise, I am forced to assume you leave us to our fate, alone. And I will continue to suspect the malice of an enemy alliance lurking somewhere out in this valley.” Olut6 pointed out to the east, where all the alien shuttles were parked.