Iron Mike
Page 29
“It was a clear violation -”
“The human did not react -”
“The harvest will be -”
“Who does he think -”
Researcher-Xenohistorian sighed heavily and intermingled her aura with Scientist-Farmer’s as they listened in grim silence to the disorder around them. After several long moments, the harsh tone of Patriarch-Statesman’s desk signal sounded, indicating his desire the chamber be silent. The silence fell, but much more gradually than was entirely respectful of his position.
“Scientist-Farmer,” Patriarch-Statesman asked, both his tone and his aura marked by fatigue and displeasure, “what, exactly, would you have this body of government do? We have already signed away the agricultural rights of this little garden planet to the Belvian Alliance. Surely, you don’t believe they would discontinue a harvest this close to completion if our situations were reversed, do you?”
Scientist-Farmer’s aura flared an angry orange for a moment before he was able to regain control. When he spoke, each word was deliberate and calculated, punctuated by a cold, cutting tone. “No,” he said, speaking in a quiet voice, compelling each official and visitor to strain to hear his words. “The Belvians wouldn’t, Patriarch-Statesman. You’re right. But you know what? The day we start deciding our actions based on what someone like the Belvians would do is the day we as a people lose whatever integrity makes us different from them. If we do that ... we are just as contemptible as the Belvian Alliance is.”
The chamber burst into chaos again, and for the first time, Scientist-Farmer and Researcher-Xenohistorian noticed the subtle shift in the majority opinion. It was a significant shift. There was an overwhelming greenish-blue hue in the large room as more and more auras shifted away from Patriarch-Statesman’s position.
Patriarch-Statesman was very displeased. His aura was almost black, which was virtually unheard of in a governor. That fact alone created even more division among his supporters. The six governors were universally opposed to him now, their auras clearly siding with the majority of public opinion.
“If it’s of any assistance in making this very difficult decision,” Researcher-Xenohistorian said gently, her voice and aura urging compromise. “I have spent millennia studying this life form’s behavioral patterns, since even before their recorded history. They have an extraordinarily high tenacity factor, and are extremely difficult to eradicate once they are organized. Exterminating them will prove both bothersome and costly, especially considering the Consortium’s limited budget for attack vehicles. These humans have already killed more than forty of the Mothers, Patriarch-Statesman, and that has been mostly within the past week. They have killed dozens of our Belvian ... allies as well. It is perhaps something to consider when you make your determination, Honored One. This will not be a quick, easy war ... it will be another Xian-Fahhr.”
Her words, and the memory of the terrible losses the People suffered at Xian-Fahhr, spread through the Consortium chambers. Chaos broke out again as the debates erupted anew.
March 27.
Kari
“We finally got it!” Mike exclaimed, stepping into the flap of Kari’s tent without knocking. Luckily, that wasn’t a problem. Pvt. Freeman had moved into BEQ a few days ago, and Mike held similar orders in his own hand.
“We got it?!” Kari squealed, jumping up from her cot. She was already in fatigues so she simply tucked and straightened, more than eager to see their new home. Construction of military housing was secondary to housing the civilians adequately, but their two-bedroom apartment was finally ready for them! Kari bounced happily. “I didn’t think they’d be ready with the rest of enlisted housing ‘til the end of the week.”
“Me, either,” Mike grinned. “Grab your duffel, soldier and let’s go check it out! We’ll get the rest of your gear later.”
Mike grabbed the teddy bear that sat on the director’s chair in the middle of the almost-empty tent. He considered, then folded up the chair and brought it along as well, sticking it across the back seat of the jeep.
Ten minutes later, Kari used the shiny new house key Mike gave her to open the door of their housing unit. Empty of furniture, the tiny apartment looked huge! Mike set the director’s chair in the middle of the room and plopped Pookie on top of it with a flourish.
“This is your new home, bear,” he said, and then he walked over to the built-in counter island in the kitchen, and removed a small box from where he’d hidden it earlier. “This is for you, sweetheart,” he told Kari, a soft smile on his face.
Kari looked at the box questioningly, her eyes lighting up at the colorful wrapping and bright bow. “A present!” she exclaimed gleefully. She took it eagerly, and ripped the wrapping paper off. Inside was ...
“Oh, Mike ... ” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “How did you ... I didn't even know. Thank you!”
Kari pulled out the small bottle of Donna Karan's Cashmere Mist, and spritzed her neck lightly. “I can’t believe it didn’t break, after everything it went through,” she said wonderingly.
“It?” Mike asked huffily. “We went through a thing or two ourselves, Corporal.”
“Yes, I know we - what?!”
Mike smiled broadly. “Ricochet’s boyfriend works over in Pass & ID. They’re handling most of the post’s paperwork now, and Steve saw the promotion. He told Shay, Shay told me, and I can’t keep a secret for shit.”
Kari squealed in delight and jumped up into Mike’s waiting hug. The kiss was just beginning to deepen into something that would really prefer furniture when Kari heard a gruff throat clearing. She and Mike jumped apart and turned to face the Old Bear. They offered salutes which he waved away.
“I see you two found your new quarters with no problem,” he observed drily.
“Yes, sir,” Mike agreed and Kari nodded warmly.
Kasoniak nodded. “Hershey is a hell of a dog, Mike. He’s having a ball training that little pisser and the three rescue dogs our patrols brought in. All of them seem to have a nose for Feeders, and we’ve gotten twelve of the bastards just since Monday.”
“Oh, Daddy, that’s awesome!” Kari grinned proudly, completely forgetting she was in uniform. Kasoniak let the infraction slide since there were only the three of them present.
“I was planning to assign -”
They never did find out what the colonel was planning. A shiny, metallic orb floated in from the hallway leading to the smaller bedroom. The three of them stopped and stared at it. Mike hesitated for a long, long moment before reaching out a finger to touch the orb. Kari heard a sharp pop! and everything went black.
Kasoniak, Mike, and Kari regained consciousness almost simultaneously, each of them getting easily to their feet. Kari jumped slightly when she stood beside her father and Mike and saw the three aliens in the room. The avatars standing in front of them could never have been mistaken for human, for all that they had two arms, two legs, a head and eyes. Perhaps it was the eyes ... they were so very alien, almost avian in nature. Or perhaps it was the stiffness with which the aliens stood and moved. In any case, the beings were clearly “other” than human. Two of the avatars were female - one a tall Asian woman, the other a white woman with sandy blonde hair. The male avatar was a light-skinned black man. All three had ordinary features, except for their eyes.
“Welcome to my ship,” the Asian female said. “Her name translates to The Invincible in your language. Please allow me to make introductions. I am Starcaptain-Diplomat. My colleagues are Scientist-Farmer and Researcher-Xenohistorian.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Kasoniak cleared his throat. “Dick Kasoniak,” he said gruffly. “Corporals Sanderlin and Kasoniak.”
The starcaptain looked puzzled, but the other two beings nodded with warm ... warmish? ... smiles.
“Please, let us sit and speak,” Starcaptain-Diplomat finally said, indicating an oval conference table with six chairs. The group moved awkwardly to the table. At a nod from Kasoniak, Mike
and Kari sat to either side of him as the others positioned themselves on the other side of the table.
“We will utilize scissors on the chase,” the being known as Scientist-Farmer said, seeming quite pleased with himself for the turn of phrase.
The three humans glanced at each other. After a moment, Kasoniak nodded. “Please do ”
“Our people have committed a heinous, irreparable harm to your people,” Researcher-Xenohistorian said quietly. Her avian eyes looked troubled and a hint of pink touched her cheeks. “In our defense, we did not realize there was sapient life on this planet, or we would never have claimed it as a garden. On behalf of my people and for as much good as it cannot possibly do, I offer you my apology.”
Kasoniak looked at her for a long, thoughtful moment. “Thank you,” he said, his voice and posture still rigid. “On behalf of my nation I appreciate your contrition.” He spoke slowly, each word carefully measured. “I’m not sure how you intend to redress the issue, though, Researcher ... Xenohistorian. So many billions of people have died.”
Scientist-Farmer nodded his head in acknowledgement. “The genocide of your world will be a shameful blight on our history until the end of time, Dick Kasoniak,” he said somberly.
Col. Kasoniak nodded, equally somber. “I understand, sir,” he said, “and I can appreciate that. My people have one or two shameful blights in our own history. That still doesn’t address my immediate concern, though. We estimate a couple million survivors planet-wide. What’s going to be done to help them? What reparations, if any, are you planning to put into effect to restore our societies, our buildings, our infrastructure?”
There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence before Starcaptain-Diplomat spoke again. “I am truly sorry, Dick Kasoniak, Human-Male and Human-Female,” she said, her voice heavy with genuine regret. “The news is not good. The political machinations we must maneuver are much like your own used to be, before the gardening.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Mike asked, his voice hard. Kasoniak shot him a glance, and Mike flushed, resolving to keep his mouth shut for the duration of the meeting.
“The harvesting of this planet has already begun,” Scientist-Farmer said quietly. “The Mothers are already birthing, and the rich loam is being aerated and fertilized. In some warmer climates, planting has started, and the Mothers and Young are already tending. Our planets ... and our political leaders ... will profit greatly from the sale of the rich foods the soil will grow.”
“It is too late to stop the planting now,” Researcher-Xenohistorian said quietly.
“No, that is not completely accurate,” Starcaptain-Diplomat corrected. “In theory, the planting could be stopped. However, that would require the order of Patriarch-Statesman, and he emphatically will not give that order.”
“He is your ... political leader?" Kasoniak asked. The three aliens nodded. Both Researcher-Xenohistorian and Scientist-Farmer looked fairly miserable about it. “Then, I want to negotiate with him,” Kasoniak said firmly.
Starcaptain-Diplomat shook her head. “He has declined to accept the overwhelming evidence that you are sapient; therefore, he has no legal obligation to meet with you,” she said regretfully. “Unfortunately, he is disregarding his moral obligations in this matter completely. That is the reason my colleagues and I are meeting with you. We would like to salvage whatever we can from the political mess our superiors have made.”
“For whatever cold comfort it offers you,” Scientist-Farmer stated quietly, “the rioting and civil wars have already begun on our worlds. Nine of our planets are in revolt because Patriarch-Statesman’s decision is so abhorrent to our values as a populace. We have not been at war in many millennia, but it has come to our galaxy again.”
There was a long moment of silence before Kasoniak spoke again. “You’re right. It is cold comfort. You’re telling me the one person with the authority to stop the destruction of my world and yours doesn’t want to even talk to us? How can we begin peace negotiations? What exactly is the purpose of this meeting, then, ladies and gentleman? Why bother?”
The three aliens looked at each other. Starcaptain-Diplomat and Researcher-Xenohistorian nodded at Scientist-Farmer. “It was your idea,” Starcaptain-Diplomat said. “It is your place to offer the proposal.”
Scientist-Farmer drew in a deep breath and looked at the three humans, his eyes lingering for a moment on Human-Male, his personal favorite. “There remain two million, seven hundred fifty-three thousand, nine hundred twelve viable human beings on this planet,” he said. “We have the resources to transport seven hundred thousand individuals, plus genetically significant samples of Earth’s wildlife, to a planetoid very similar to your own Earth. It is a pristine, virgin world. It is much too small to garden, but it would be ideal for up to twenty million humans.”
The three humans looked at each other for a long moment, and Mike broke his vow to himself. “It’s a fucking zoo,” he said bitterly.
The aliens looked at each other. Finally, Starcaptain-Diplomat nodded. “That is one way of seeing it,” she agreed slowly. “Another way of seeing it is as a place of rebirth, a means of saving your entire species from certain extinction.”
“And what of the other two million plus humans?” Kari asked quietly. Her eyes were bleak as she looked at the aliens steadily.
Starcaptain-Diplomat steepled her fingers and spoke directly to Kasoniak. “You are the leader of your people, Dick Kasoniak,” she said, her quiet voice steely and uncompromising. “This is genuinely the best I am able to offer. Two million plus of your people will continue to wage a war of resistance against us, and two million plus of your people will die, I promise you. The only reason the ‘Razers,’ as you call them, haven’t returned in force is because of the significant cost involved. When too many Mothers die, they will return, regardless the cost, and the devastation to your people will be incalculable. Bringing some of your people to planetoid L732 is the only way to ensure your species survives at all. I would urge -”
“When do you need an answer?” Kasoniak interrupted. He didn’t give a damn that his words and tone were rude. “It’s a lot to think about.”
Starcaptain-Diplomat hesitated. “This time tomorrow,” she said finally. “It will take several days to coordinate the transportation arrangements if you choose to utilize them.”
Kasoniak nodded sharply and stood to leave. Mike and Kari did the same, and all three of them waited in silence to be sent back to their world.
A shiny, metallic orb floated in from the hallway leading to the smaller bedroom. The three humans stopped and stared. Mike hesitated for a long, long moment before reaching out a finger to touch the orb. Kari heard a sharp pop! and a hiss of pain as Mike jerked his hand back, shaking it sharply. “Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelped, sticking two fingers in his mouth and glaring at the black orb as it simply vanished.
The three soldiers looked at each other, stunned. Col. Kasoniak glanced down at his watch. “0945 tomorrow morning,” he said grimly. “Mike, double time it to my office and tell Lieutenant Simmons I want a meeting of my general staff set for 1300 today. Tell her I’ll be back in the office as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir,” Mike replied, saluting crisply before jogging down the apartment stairs to the jeep he and Kari had driven up in.
Dick Kasoniak looked at his daughter for a moment, and then opened his arms wide. “Come here, baby girl,” he said softly. Kari moved quickly into his embrace, and he hugged her as tightly as the Old Bear he was renowned to be.
March 29.
Kasoniak
Kasoniak looked at his watch again. 1630. Another thirty minutes and he would send soldiers to collect all of the USRF DOD Form PI-279s. The newly created forms had been handed out to everyone on the post. They detailed a brief explanation of the situation and a preference check box with a section for comments. The decision, of course, was still Kasoniak’s, but this would be an all-volunteer mission. He wouldn’t compel an exodus.
Lieutenant Simmons was one of thirty-two NFK soldiers or citizens who declined to make the trip to the new planetoid offered by their conquerors. Most of the thirty-two cited religious reasons or no reason at all in their comments section, but one comment stood out above all the others. “I will not live in a zoo,” the soldier wrote. “I will fight until I’m buried in the fucking garden they want, or until I blow my planet to hell from right under them. Either way, I’m staying.”
Dick Kasoniak sighed, looking at the other Form PI-279 that caught his attention. The form had neither “stay” nor “go” marked. In the comment section, it said, “I stay or leave with Cpl. Mike Sanderlin.” He was going to have to address that particular issue. He knew he couldn’t force Mike to go, but guilt, if nothing else, would damned sure compel Kari.
Kasoniak sighed, turning his eyes up to the ceiling. “It isn’t how you would have wanted things, Carolyn,” he murmured, “and it isn’t how I want them, either. But I can’t lose my baby girl. Not after we’ve come this far.”
The decision was made. The only thing left for the surviving humans to do now was to pack their belongings ... and once again, lose everything to the stupidity and fallacy of war.
Dick Kasoniak placed the file of forms into the filing cabinet and firmly closed the drawer.
April 1.
Kasoniak
Col. Richard Kasoniak stood at parade rest, his Class As starched and perfect, as always. He watched solemnly as groups of soldiers and civilian personnel entered the docking bays of one of the five sleek, black spacecraft encircling the United States Mint. He and Kari would be on the last of the five ships. His face was carefully expressionless as he watched his daughter sob against the boy...the man...she loved, and the old soldier's heart broke as he almost heard Carolyn's chastisement.