Peace Talks (Adventures of the Starship Satori Book 12)

by Kevin McLaughlin

  Some of his people argued against an alliance with humanity. What do humans offer, they asked. And it was true that his people had far greater technology than humans. True that one on one, humans were generally smaller and weaker. This element of hope was, as much as anything else, what Garul hoped to bring back to his people.

  Without hope, even the strongest animal might simply lay down and give up. Without the sense that they could overcome whatever obstacles they face, no species could survive, let alone thrive. The Naga were too close to this enemy. It was a nightmare told to threaten their children. Dan had called the Kkiktchikut the Naga “boogeyman”. Garul hadn’t understood what the word meant, at the time. Now that he did, the description was all too apt. His people were terrified by this ancient enemy and already half convinced they couldn’t win.

  But humans had no such barriers holding them back. Humanity faced the Kkiktchikut as just one more threat in a long succession of them. Even the name the humans have given their enemy spoke of how they thought: “Bugs”, named after small, mostly harmless arthropods native to Earth.

  The Naga called the same species Kkiktchikut, which literally meant ‘Living Death’.

  His people needed Earth as much as Earth needed them. Garul only hoped that he could convince the leaders of both worlds to work together as a true alliance before it was too late.

  “I hope so as well,” Garul told Hereford. “May our Christmas be the best either of our races has ever had.”

  Eight

  Owen sweated a bit, sitting there waiting for Eric to return. The guy had to be checking up on him. That was the only reason he would have left right when he did and been gone so long. The good news was that Owen’s background was solidly anti-alien. It wouldn’t be difficult to find his social media posts and see how he felt. The bad news was that the longer Eric was gone, the more thorough his investigation was going to be. After ten minutes had passed, Owen started wondering if he was in trouble. After twenty had gone by with no sign of Eric, he was just about ready to jump out the door.

  This guy was capable of violence. It was in his eyes. Owen wasn’t sure if he’d been the person who fired the shot earlier that day, but if he wasn’t, he certainly could have been. He was definitely a security risk. A quick call to base and Owen could have a team down to the bar to nab Eric for questioning. But if he wasn’t the shooter that would leave the gunman still at large. Blowing his cover with the protesters would make it nearly impossible for Owen to figure out who else might be a risk.

  Sitting tight was nerve-wracking, but it was the best option.

  Owen’s watch said Eric had been gone twenty-two minutes before the man came stalking back over to the table. He reached down toward Owen, hand outstretched. “Sorry that took so long, man. We’ve just got to be sure, y’know? Government would love to get their claws into our movement.”

  Owen took the offered hand and shook it as he rose from his seat. He’d passed their test, then. That was a relief. “Totally understand. I take it I checked out?”

  “Sure did. Flying colors. Got some boys who want to meet you.”

  “When?” Owen asked.

  “Tonight. Things are moving fast. With your help, maybe even faster.”

  “Sounds good to me. We heading out now?” Owen asked.

  Eric nodded and led the way to the door. “You got a vehicle?”

  “Just my motorcycle.”

  “You OK leaving it here? I’ll bring you back once we’re done.”

  No, Owen wasn’t at all thrilled about losing his means of making a quick getaway. But he couldn’t say that, not if he wanted to get in with these people. Instead he just smiled. “Sure.”

  He piled into the passenger side of a beat-up red Ford pickup, but not before noting the large rifle set into a gun rack behind him. Owen couldn’t tell what model it was in the near-darkness, but there was a scope mounted on the weapon. Was it the weapon used to shoot Garul earlier? There was no way to be certain without a ballistics test.

  Owen reminded himself that having a rifle in one’s pickup didn’t mean that person was a terrorist. It was a common practice in more rural areas. But it raised his suspicions another notch.

  Eric started the truck up and they roared off into the night. They’d only gone a mile on the main road before Eric took the truck off-road, out into the desert. Owen’s eyebrows shot up at that. If Eric was looking to kill him and dump the body someplace remote, this would be a good way to start. He fingered the little object in his pocket, making sure it was still there. He might need it after all.

  “Where are we going?” Owen asked. Anything to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “You’ll see. Not far now,” Eric replied.

  A bit of light caught Owen’s eye from somewhere ahead. That had to be their destination. He glanced back the way they’d come. No light from the bar. Whoever it was out there, they were far enough from the road that no one would find them easily without some sort of aerial surveillance. The light turned out to be lanterns hanging from a big camper. Several smaller pop-up campers were nearby, most of them still hitched to a pickup truck. The smoky remains of a small campfire smoldered in the middle of the vehicles.

  “Here we are,” Eric said. “Pop out, I’ll introduce you around.”

  Owen stepped down from the truck and was almost run over by a pair of small kids racing through the camp, laughing and playing. A woman near the lit-up RV called out to them, yelling at them to slow down. Two other men were standing in the shadows near her. A few other folks wandered about the small campground.

  Owen wasn’t sure just what he’d been expecting to find, but this wasn’t it! It looked more like a family camping trip than a group of dangerous terrorists. One of the kids ran whooping past him a second time and banged into his side.

  “Sorry, mister!” the boy hollered as he scampered on.

  “No worries,” Owen replied to the kid’s back, bemused.

  “Ethan, you get right back here and give a proper apology!” The woman stepped away from the RV, wielding a spoon like a battle-axe. The kids paid her no mind, continuing their romp around the camp. She sighed, exasperated, and turned toward Owen. “I am so sorry. Usually those rascals have a bit more manners.”

  “It’s no worry, ma’am,” Owen replied. The manners came quick and easy for him. He’d been raised by a military family. Polite speech and proper manners were drilled into him from an early age. He shrugged. “Kids will be kids. I probably did much the same at that age, and turned out more or less all right.”

  She smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Katrina. Eric bring you back with him?”

  Owen took the proffered hand and shook it. “He did. I’m Owen McInness. Nice to meet you. You’re Eric’s family?”

  “No.” She frowned and looked down. “He didn't tell you? He lost them. In the alien attack. I'm James's wife. And mom to his two hellions.”

  Eric had wandered over to the RV. He stood there with the other two men, their voices low as if they wanted to keep whatever they were discussing to themselves. Hearing his name, Eric stepped into the lamplight. “What’s up, Kat?”

  “You’ve left your guest all by himself. Almost got mowed down by wild animals just a moment ago,” Katrina said.

  Eric laughed, a deep belly laugh that startled Owen and then brought a smile to his lips. He hadn’t seen this side of the man before. Back in the bar he’d seemed menacing and gloomy. But out there with his friends it was like he was an entirely different person!

  “Sorry about the youngsters,” Eric said. He beckoned Owen over. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my friends, eh?”

  “James Lamell,” the older man said.

  “Neil Smith,” added the other.

  Both reached out their hands in welcoming gestures. Owen shook, and replied. “Owen McInness. Good to meet you both.”

  “I ran into Owen over at Starlight. He was chatting with some of the other protesters there. Sat down and had a conversa
tion. He’d like to help us out. Turns out the kid works on the base,” Eric jabbed a thumb in Owen’s direction.

  “Does he, now?” James replied. He rubbed the scraggly beard on his chin. “That could be an opportunity. Or a problem.”

  “I checked him out good before I brought him,” Eric protested. “He’s clean. Even killed a Naga himself.”

  “Oh?” James asked. His eyes bored into Owen’s, challenging.

  Owen felt the old, familiar anger flare up again. This time he didn’t try to tamp it down. He let it come burning out of him. “Yes. With my father’s pistol. Right after the Naga killed both of my parents, I killed it. Listen, if you guys aren’t serious about doing something, maybe I’m in the wrong place.”

  Owen turned halfway toward the truck like he was getting ready to leave. But James spoke before he was more than partway around. “Not so hasty, young man. That’s quite a feat. We’re glad to have a real fighter with us. We have to be sure, you understand? Some elements of the government are working with the aliens. Can’t take the risk of letting in a spy.”

  “I get it,” Owen spat out. Oh, did he ever. After all, that’s what he was. But the anger he’d just demonstrated wasn’t an act. It was still there, just under the surface, ready to explode at any time.

  He’d hoped that he was all better. That the anger wouldn’t come back now that he had fought side by side with Garul. He should have known better. It wasn’t going to leave him, was it? That burning pit in his stomach was going to be his constant companion forever. Maybe he was more like these people than he’d thought.

  Nine

  Garul clicked his tongue against his teeth. They’d been at this for hours. It was already late in the evening. His protege hadn’t radioed in yet, which was a constant niggling worry in the back of the Naga’s mind. But worse was the fact that Hereford had been right about the ‘politicians’. Garul had never met such a worthless heap of flesh in all his life.

  They wanted to talk, talk, talk. He understood there was a point to that, but...they took it to an extreme that he first found amusing and rapidly transitioned into ‘annoying’. The Naga culture was based on action. Those with power had it because they had a history of getting things done and the other Naga respected them. If they stopped getting things done, some other Naga would replace them. It was the way of things.

  This was one of the strengths of the Naga, Garul realized, seeing it for the first time in contrast to the way humans ruled themselves. The Naga way got things done quickly and directly, without much fuss. If a matter was a priority, it was done. There wasn’t much in the way of debate about it. These humans wanted to quibble over every tiny bit like it was actually crucial — even the parts that were ultimately irrelevant to surviving their mutual foe.

  The woman Hereford introduced as Lucinda Bell, the ‘Secretary of State’, was speaking. “We’d want to negotiate a free trade arrangement between our peoples, of course. Is that something you have experience negotiating?”

  “Madame Secretary,” Garul said. “I hope you can forgive me, but what good are trade negotiations going to be if one or both of our planets cease to exist tomorrow?”

  She blinked, mouth open like she was going to reply, but then she closed it without speaking.

  “We face an enemy who can annihilate a planet. Wipe out every single living thing with one blast from a single super-dreadnought. Mutual defense should be our absolute priority,” Garul went on.

  “I see what you mean,” Bell said at last. “I - we’re used to doing things a certain way here. But I can definitely forward those concerns to the Secretary of Defense.”

  Garul looked around. “Where is he? Shouldn’t he be here for this discussion?”

  “He’s arriving tomorrow,” Hereford drawled. He’d been watching the whole thing unfold with an amused expression on his face. Damn the man, he was enjoying Garul’s discomfort! The Naga flashed a toothy smile at the general.

  “Is he? Then perhaps we should continue this discussion when he arrives,” Garul said.

  “Of course. I’m so sorry. You must be tired from travel. And you had a battle on the way here, I was told. Please, consider yourself our honored guest. General Hereford will make any accommodation you request available,” Bell said. She turned off the tablet she’d been using and stood. “We’ll continue this after breakfast in the morning.”

  With that dismissal, Bell and her aides stepped out of the room, leaving Hereford and Garul alone again for the first time in hours. Garul leaned back heavily against his seat as best he could. Human chairs were not made for beings with tails! He’d made do, but wished he had thought to bring seats down with him from the battle cruiser in orbit. Something he could rectify before the morning, perhaps.

  Garul glanced over at the general’s amused eyes. “My dear Hereford, I believe you’ve been enjoying this, yes?”

  “Yes,” Hereford replied. He chuckled, then let loose with a full laugh. “Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do some of what you just did. You certainly controlled the conversation here today.”

  “Did I? I felt rather swept along by the tide of words. Do all your people speak for so long about nothing?”

  “Mostly just the politicians. Maybe writers, too. But definitely politicians,” Hereford said. “No, you did good. You kept them more on track than I ever would have been able to manage.”

  “I find that somewhat hard to believe.”

  “Technically, they’re my bosses. Or my boss’s cohort, something like that. I always hate having to deal with cabinet level people. They tend to think too much of themselves. We got some good progress going today, though,” Hereford said.

  Garul glanced down at his tablet, staring at the notes he’d written during the conference. True enough, they had done quite a bit. But he’d hoped for so much more. “We’re running out of time.”

  “I know.” Hereford’s voice was grim. “This is the down side of our society. We’re incredibly good at some things, but unless a problem is directly in front of us we tend to ignore it.”

  “With luck your Secretary of Defense will be a wiser man.”

  “Bill Lawson? Yeah. He’s ex-Army. Used to be a general himself, before he retired. He’ll take the threat seriously enough, that’s for sure. But these are only the people from the United States you’re dealing with today. Wait until the UN gets a hold of you.”

  Garul blinked. “UN?”

  “United Nations. Reps from almost two hundred nations around the world. You think this is rough, wait until you have to face that mess,” Hereford said.

  Earth wasn’t governed by anything approaching the unity the Naga had. Garul had already known that coming into these negotiations. The United States was powerful, but didn’t rule the world. He’d picked this place to start because he already had contacts within the USA. But the enormity of the task in front of him was beginning to dawn on the Naga. Almost two hundred nations? Multiple days of negotiations with each?

  “We don’t have time for this,” Garul said.

  “You won’t need to work with each nation individually. Not right away, anyway. We’ll get you to meet with a few of the major players, and the rest will fall in line. Don’t worry, we can do this.”

  Garul grumbled. He didn’t want to do this. He’d rather be out there in space hunting down his enemies or defending his home. Instead he was off playing diplomat. This wasn’t his specialty, but he’d been ordered to try anyway because he knew the language and already knew some of the heroes of Earth. He’d do his best, but shards of egg, it wasn’t going to be easy keeping his temper!

  Time to change the subject. “Have you heard from Owen?”

  Hereford frowned. “No, and I think we should have. I’ll check with security and see if he’s called in yet.” The general glanced at his watch. “Getting late.”

  It was late in the day. Darkness had already fallen. If their enemy was going to strike it would probably be under the cover of night, or per
haps at daybreak. Owen was a good warrior and fully capable of caring for himself, but Garul couldn’t help worrying some regardless. Someone outside the fences of the base was willing to kill for his beliefs. Would he stop with killing Naga? Or would he be willing to murder one of his own kind as well, if he deemed it necessary?

  “Let us go see if he has reached out. If not, I will assume it’s good news, that he has infiltrated a group successfully and cannot contact us without being discovered,” Garul said. He hoped he was right. If Owen was harmed, nothing on Earth would stop him from exacting vengeance upon whoever harmed his protege.

  Ten

  Owen struggled with his temper. It took more effort than he liked to get it back under control again. He hated that part of himself, now. But he couldn’t help it. As senseless as he knew his fury was, he seemed to be stuck with it. Several deep breaths later, he had control of himself again.

  “Sorry,” Owen told the men standing with him.

  “No, we understand,” Neil said. “Some of us have lost someone too, you know. Others...well, we all at least know someone directly affected by the day the aliens invaded. Most people do, I figure. Just some more than others.”

  Owen grimaced. “Not all of them have it boil out of them uncontrolled like I do.”

  “Most of them haven’t seen or done what you did either, son,” James replied. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You might be able to do us a favor, and change things for the better. Interested?”

  “Absolutely.” This was why he’d come. These people, this odd little cluster of humanity, was planning to take some sort of action against the base. What, Owen didn’t know yet. But if he could find out he might be able to prevent a lot of lives lost on both sides. Not to mention stop an interstellar incident from taking place if one of them did get lucky and kill Garul.

  “Good! That’s a man,” Eric said, clapping Owen on the back.