No Plan Survives (Tales from the Protectorate Book 1)

by L. D. Robinson

  She slipped back into her seat. “Come out with me.”

  “What for?”

  Her throat started to close-up again, the way it had when she’d confronted the humans the first time. “To talk.” The words came out in a pitiful squeak.

  He nodded, and she could hear his thought. Just tell me what to say.

  That, more than anything else, gave her the strength to continue. She pushed against the arms of the chair and brought herself to an unsteady standing position. After a few instructions, Trel grabbed the translator and opened the door. The voices outside quickly died down.

  Aahliss stepped out again, this time remaining at the top. Still, the tension from the humans slammed into her. “Do you feel it?” she whispered, barely able to get the breathy words out.

  He stepped out beside her and looked around. “I don’t feel a whole lot of—”

  A sexual thrill shot through Aahliss’s belly, swirling and zapping her in all the places she hadn’t had sensation in many years.

  “I felt that,” Trel said, a note of humor in his voice.

  Aahliss looked in the direction of the arousal. There, a woman stood with her body erect, her eyes locked on Trel, a slight smudge of pink on her otherwise pale cheeks.

  Interesting.

  But not the most important thing. She nudged Trel.

  He brought the public translator to his mouth. “Everyone,” he said, “please stop being afraid.”

  Anger spiked, like the upward thrust of a knife in her belly. She grabbed her gut, leaning forward, while her other hand reached Trel’s arm and squeezed.

  “Oh, and whoever is angry, you either need to stop, or back away. Far away.”

  A man dressed in dark gray nudged the other man. He took a deep breath and bobbed his head up and down. The anger subsided, but it was barely under control.

  The gray-clad man stepped forward. “Why shouldn’t we be afraid?”

  Trel gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before.”

  The man’s brows shot up, and surprise and a little disgust registered in Aahliss’s mind. Of course he would be disgusted. Trel was not doing this right, despite the instructions she had given him. The humans had to think they were completely inept.

  “Well,” Trel said, “all these emotions are making it hard for the counselor to do her job.”

  “Which is?”

  “Talk to you.”

  Aahliss nudged him again and shook her head. He had to feel her disapproval. He wasn’t completely blind to others.

  “Oh,” Trel said, voice brightening, “you don’t have to be afraid because we’re friendly. You can trust us.”

  That got a distinctive reaction. More distrust.

  But the fear had subsided. Aahliss took the translator from Trel. “Thank you for—” She took another deep breath, trying to relax her throat, trying to push away the remainder of the terrible feelings that pressed on her.

  “Do you have a range?” the woman said.

  The man in gray radiated anger. “Colonel Mehta, you’re out of order.”

  “A what?” Aahliss croaked.

  “How far away can you feel the fear? Can you feel it from those soldiers?” She pointed to a wide circle of humans surrounding them.

  Aahliss stared at her. Why did her voice sound familiar?

  “Yes,” Trel answered.

  The woman hurried down the slope and spoke to another man, this one with very dark skin. She was giving him directions. She was in charge of something. Aahliss could feel it. Then the woman returned, and the circle of humans distanced themselves by ten foot-lengths.

  “That’s much better,” Aahliss said. “Thank you.” She redirected her attention to the man in gray, the man who seemed to think he should be the only one to talk. “My name is Aahliss. Counselor Aahliss. And you?”

  “Doctor Westmoreland Brown. People call me Morrie.”

  She could tell he was hoping his announcement would engender some level of friendship, something that would enable the conversation to go his way. And she could also tell that he had made that decision on the spur of the moment, possibly because she had given him only one name.

  Mralans were never given more than one name. Humans, it appeared, had multiples, choices.

  “Which would be the more formal way of address?”

  “Uh.” A moment of awkwardness passed. “Doctor Brown.” He stepped forward and put out his hand in a chopping pose. What was he doing? Oh, of course.

  “This is a greeting in your culture?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps you should find another way. To us, this,” she said, indicating his hand, “is a marriage proposal.”

  Brown’s hand jerked back, then slipped behind him. He smiled awkwardly, and embarrassment radiated from him in waves of distress. She hadn’t intended to do that to him, and his discomfort made her want to fidget, to move away, to hide. Best get on with the discussion, distract him from his mistake. “We are from the planet Mral. It means Earth.”

  Brown smiled, but no friendliness accompanied the expression. “And you’re called Mralans?”

  “That’s how the translator will render the word. And this,” Aahliss said, pointing to the man behind her, “is Trel, the shuttle pilot.”

  “A pleasure,” Trel said.

  “We should get to the point of our visit,” Aahliss said to Brown. “Are you a representative of your government?”

  “I am.” He hadn’t puffed up his chest, but he certainly felt pride in his position.

  “Very well.” She took another step down the ramp. “What we offer you is protection from the Dakh Hhargash—the creatures who attacked your planet. As you should be aware, we are quite capable of driving them off whenever they approach.”

  “Very good,” Brown said, though dissatisfaction radiated from him. So strange how these humans could feel one thing yet act as though they felt the opposite. So alien.

  “What we need from your planet is one of your fighters.”

  “Fighters?”

  Evidently, that wasn’t the word they used. How to explain? She glanced around. “Perhaps like this human.” She pointed at Colonel Mehta as the memory fell into place, the recognition of the voice who had called for their air vessels to stop shooting at Fmedg’s ship.

  Brown looked at Mehta, then his expression went dark. This time, there was complete concurrence between expression and feelings. “You mean soldiers?”

  “Your word doesn’t translate. I mean the fighters your government sends to force its will on others through violence.”

  “And you only want one?” Now he sounded incredulous, as though fighters always came in groups.

  “One. Yes. But it must be a clever one, intelligent and with much knowledge about how you fight.”

  A wave of suspicion passed through him, a deep fear of betrayal that could only come from a species like the humans. Yet he smiled. “That seems like an odd thing to request.”

  Aahliss nodded. “We wish for someone who can teach us how to fight better. Our studies of your planet indicate that you humans have pitted yourselves against each other for thousands of years. Thus, you would have accumulated a great deal of knowledge on how to do it.”

  Brown blinked at her several times, and his confusion washed over her in uncomfortable waves. “But you said you could easily chase off the, uh…”

  “Dakh Hhargash.”

  “Yeah. Those guys.”

  “Their rudimentary technology makes them easy to defeat. But we have another enemy with much greater capability. We call them ‘Species X.’” She took a deep breath and tried to control her physical signs of distress, so as not to alarm the humans. But her fist tightened around the hand rail, and her shoulders tensed.

  If not for Species X, she would not be a widow now. She would be walking the shores of Lake Pdellic, listening to the chirping of the blue gulls and breathing in the fresh air, then walking up a stream barefoot, toes curling over the
rounded stones, all the while holding his weathered, farmer’s hand, feeling the warmth and strength of his body, basking in the calmness of his soul.

  He had been on the first ship Species X destroyed, and her bitterness toward them filled the universe. That was why she had agreed to come to Earth, fought to ensure the plan was carried out, despite how difficult it would be. They had to find a way to stop Species X.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  That there could be aliens more powerful than the Mralans send a spike of fear through Colonel Mehta. She quickly shoved it aside. At least she knew she wasn’t going to be the one Earth sent with the Mralans. She wasn’t one of the true combat leaders, an infantry or armor officer, or even field artillery. She was military police, meaning she was not someone the leadership would think had the requisite knowledge of “how we fight.”

  Besides, she had to finish out her command. She had to get the kind of evaluation report that would catapult her into generalship.

  “It sounds like we have some serious talking to do,” Brown said to Aahliss. “That’s going to take a little more time. So, let’s move you to someplace more secure.”

  “Is there a danger?”

  “Just a random chance, but better safe than sorry, right?”

  Aahliss nodded. “Of course. Humans are regrettably similar to the Dakh Hhargash.”

  Brown smiled, but it looked forced. “We have a helicopter approaching. He’ll lead you to Joint Base Andrews, where we can get everything out of the public eye.”

  The helicopter appeared as a blob in the distance, the sounds of its rotors beating the air still a low-volume thumping, a thrumming of relief for her. Once the alien shuttle arrived at Andrews, Mehta’s mission would probably be over. She and her unit could finally go home, lick their wounds, and get the brigade reconstituted.

  “I suppose,” Aahliss said, “as we follow this… This thing, we might not understand all its instructions.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard,” Brown said.

  “Perhaps not, but just in case, could you lend us a human to help?”

  Mehta frowned. That was a dangerous move, to send someone into that shuttle with aliens who could be lying about their plight, who could be enemies, just waiting to trick them.

  “It’s too early in our relationship to do that,” Brown said, giving the aliens a smarmy smile. “At some other point, I’m sure people would stand in line to be chosen.”

  Aahliss lifted her eyes—almost rolled them—then looked directly at Mehta. “I sense you are clever and bold. Perhaps you would like to join us?”

  Mehta’s throat snapped shut, while her mind went to war with itself. One part kept saying, “Oh, goody, I’ll get to see more of Trel,” while the other part chanted in a robotic voice, “Danger, danger.”

  “I would be delighted,” she said, forcing the words through her constricted airway. “But I’m afraid I can’t. I need to stay with my unit.”

  Now Brown stepped around to stand beside Mehta. “I think we should get more information before we—”

  “I know,” Aahliss said. “You still don’t trust us. Truth is you probably won’t for some time. So why not take the risk?”

  “It’s not justified at this point.”

  Aahliss shook her head in mild disgust. “Really. How else will you learn to trust us?”

  “Well…”

  “You know she’s the best one to choose. She’s experienced enough to not reveal any of your secrets, and clever enough, perhaps, to learn of few of ours.”

  Mehta frowned. Why were they talking about her like she wasn’t even there? Didn’t it matter what she thought, what she felt?

  Brown smiled up at Aahliss. “Let’s just say—”

  “You’re afraid we’ll take control of her mind?” Aahliss chuckled. “You humans have such great imaginations.”

  Mehta opened her mouth, but Brown held out his hand to silence her. Now, this was getting annoying. The son of a bitch seemed to think he was the only one who would know what to say, but he was already blowing it with Aahliss. And his attempts to keep Mehta from having the adventure of her life had gotten under her skin, and her anger overrode all her previous objections. If she could ride with them, she would.

  The helicopter grew louder. Brown glanced at the aircraft, then his smile increased. “Look,” he said, “you’ve already indicated you think she’d be a good person to take into space. So, if she gets on the shuttle, how do we know you won’t just take off with her?”

  “Without your agreement?”

  “Right.”

  Aahliss looked to Mehta with raised brows.

  Mehta smiled. “Because she knows I won’t help them unless I’ve been authorized to do so.”

  The helicopter arrived, hovering several blocks away like an impatient bumble bee.

  “I still think it’s too soon to make a move like that.”

  Great. He couldn’t come up with a counter-argument, so now he’d reverted to delay tactics. There was no dealing with this man.

  Aahliss’s gaze turned icy. “We’re wasting our time.” She turned her head to speak through the shuttle door. “Trel, get ready to return to Fmedg’s ship.” Then she looked back at Brown. “We’ll go now. You can deal with the Dakh Hhargash yourselves. You seem to think you can manage it.” She took a step into the shuttle.

  “Now, wait!” Brown said.

  Mehta’s pulse thumped. Why was it going to be left to this cowardly idiot to make the decision? It sounded the like fate of the human race was hinging on his getting it right, and he had already dug in his heels.

  “You’ve changed your mind?” Aahliss said.

  He looked reluctant, a little angry. “Just… just tell me, why her? Why not…”

  “Would you like to come as well?”

  “No, I’m just puzzled at your choice.”

  “Because of all the people here, she has the fewest unpleasant feelings. Except that she thinks you’re stupid.”

  “Stupid?” Brown glared at her.

  Heat flared on her face so violently that she thought she was going to burst into flames. “No. No, that’s not… oh, geez. Aahliss, where did you get—”

  “Perhaps she was just frustrated with you.”

  “Of course I don’t think that,” Mehta said, unable to stop her embarrassed laugh.

  “My apologies. I sometimes forget that you humans are not as direct as we are. But when the other person can tell what you’re feeling, there’s not much point in trying to hide it, is there?”

  Brown’s eyes smoldered, and the muscle on his left jaw twitched. “Fine. You go ride with them.”

  Mehta took a few steps toward the ramp, and Aahliss chuckled again. “He hopes we melt your brain.”

  “I do not—” Brown said, then sighed. “Just be careful up there.”

  

  The shuttle ride to this “more secure” place was much shorter than Aahliss had expected. They’d barely gotten settled in when the craft began its descent.

  And poor Colonel Mehta. After her brief excitement about being on board, and her sense of wonder at their force-field restraint system, she’d found most everything else disappointing. The passenger compartment was not the exotic place she’d expected, but simply four rows of chairs and an aisle down the center. Aahliss thought briefly about showing her how the seating turned into beds for long trips, but she couldn’t do that on such a short-flight. Even the personal translators, which fit over the ears, seemed less amazing, since she had already seen how the public translators worked.

  The biggest disappointment for the human was that she couldn’t see Trel. Maybe she could see his left arm, but the rest of him was hidden by the wall that separated the cockpit from the passenger area. Aahliss briefly wondered if Mehta’s attraction to him could be used to keep her distracted, because Aahliss was certain Mehta would have a requirement to find out about Mralan technology. And passing on that knowledge was strictly forbidden.

 
; Or perhaps this crush on Trel would keep Mehta too distracted to help them properly. She probed the human’s psyche, as best she could without making physical contact, and thought she sensed a well-disciplined mind, someone who could concentrate on the task at hand and indulge in such distractions only when circumstances allowed—like during the shuttle ride, when there wasn’t much conversation, and she’d already seen all there was to see.

  Maybe she should have let Mehta sit in the co-pilot seat and bring the other crewmember out here. But no, that would embarrass Mehta to openly acknowledge her lust for Trel when she had not admitted it out loud.

  Once they had almost touched the ground, the loud flying machine that had led them here headed back into the sky, while humans on the ground directed them with arm motions into a large building, with doors wide enough to fit at least ten shuttles side-by-side.

  As the shadow of the building overtook the shuttle, Aahliss let out a long breath. There were many fewer humans here, and none of them seemed to have the hyper-fear reaction they’d been having at the grassy area.

  “Oh, this feels so much better,” she said, leaning against the head-rest and closing her eyes.

  “I’m glad it suits you,” Mehta said.

  A slight jolt told her Trel had brought the shuttle into contact with the floor, and the safety restraint system zipped off. When the door opened, Aahliss hopped up and almost bounced to the doorway. “Excellent,” she said. “Lots of space.”

  As soon as the ramp touched the floor, Aahliss put her hands on the sides of the opening and took another deep breath. Not quite as refreshing as she had expected, a little dust in the air, and the smell of petroleum products, a sign that their transportation technology was basic.

  “Who are those men?” Aahliss asked, pointing to several men in matching clothing, standing around the hangar.

  “Those are the Air Force security,” Mehta said. “They’re here to make sure no unauthorized people bother you.”