Ten minutes later, Hayato's team is on the road again. They have refueled, and taken as many provisions as possible from the bullet riddled truck. The soldiers will later have trouble answering any details about their assailants, as none of attackers spoke and all wore camouflaged combat gear. With some fifteen men tied up, and twenty dead, the reports that there were only four attackers do not go over well. Fortunately, for these survivors, an unexpected turn of events will keep them safe.
During this time in another part of North Korea, events are unfolding fast. At first, horrified at seeing his younger half-brother, the ruler of his country, dead, he quickly realizes that this presents him with a unique opportunity. Being the half-brother made Chul an outcast, but now, if he acts swiftly, he could become the supreme ruler of what will soon be a larger North Korea.
Chul orders his helicopter repainted white with a giant red cross on its side. As no civilian aircraft have been harmed, he is feeling confident, and within thirty minutes, boards the helicopter heading for the capital. The elder half-brother wants to solidify his right to control the country quickly, lest others step in. As the ground falls away, and they remain unscathed, the pilot starts to breathe a little easier.
Hayato's team does not head for the border; instead, they head north, to hole up and await further instructions.
Location:
Manhattan Island
New York
As news of the war in Korea makes its way around the world, people express their concerns to politicians, media, and to each other. With the North Korean leader dead, the forces of the North stop their advance to await instructions from his successor. Leaders of the world send messages to the Gamin in hopes of mediating a peace.
Regent Voknor, having studied many of the different cultures below, ponders how to best use this conflict to his own advantage. He relishes the complexities involved as he decides on a course of action.
It is only when many of the workers helping the Gamin stop showing up, that the aliens react. George is the only one to show this morning; he gets into a bodysuit and awaits instructions. When none are forthcoming, he heads to the practice area and starts to absorb and create rocks and other small objects, all the while monitoring the numerous symbols and numbers that scroll down his screen.
After a while, a single Gamin wanders by, and motions for George to come over. The alien points at him with one of those powerful looking clawed hands, and asks, “Human, what is your title?”
“Uh, I am George. George Stanton.” He replies with a small gulp, not sure of what is going on. George is quite perplexed by this Gamin talking with him. The alien has the same features he has come to expect; mottled green skin, bone spikes on his forearms and near his knees. It is the snout full of teeth and the off-yellow eyes that send a shiver down George’s spine.
“George, my title is Sharz. Make a chair for me.” The vertical irises within those yellowy eyes stare at George, their expression unreadable.
George makes a chair; it is metallic and hard. If George did not know any better, it would seem this Sharz is rather unimpressed.
“George, make a soft area to sit on.” The creature motions with his three-clawed hand.
George again points at the chair, and thinks, foam. He succeeds in spraying foam all over the place. Hearing a horrendous noise, and, fearing the worse, he stops and looks at Sharz. His long snout is open revealing a lot more teeth, and his ear flaps are bouncing up and down as he stands there shaking. Sharz has his eye slits closed and is holding his arms strangely. With a start, George realizes that Sharz is laughing. With the tension suddenly gone, he looks at the mess he has caused, and laughs as well.
Sharz chats with George for a long time about the Gamin coming, the war in Korea, repairs, and the resupply mission the Gamin are here for. George wants to so badly to ask about Manhattan, but does not get a chance to broach the subject of the asteroid strike. George does get to tell Sharz that the war in Korea needs to be stopped.
After a short pause, Sharz surprises George even more, as he starts to explain the bodysuit, totally ignoring the comment about Korea. By the end of the afternoon, George is able to craft items as small as a pin, or as large as a person, and even ends up being able to craft things with multiple textures at once. Sharz finally gets up off his now-comfortable chair, then, looking around, tells George to absorb everything.
Sharz then surprises George even further by bringing the conversation back to the war in Korea. “George, we are a good race who only wish to survive; killing innocents is not something we do easily. Watching your people fight each other has brought a mixture of fascination and sadness. We are quite familiar with war, as well as defending one’s right to exist.”
With that, Sharz leaves. George does as requested and absorbs everything he created. He then heads to where he was working the previous day, and continues working for a while. The rail line is taking shape, and will soon meet up with the New York Metro. Suddenly, a buzzer sounds in his helmet, his visor goes dark; the entire bodysuit suddenly feels very heavy and gets stuffy. A thud is felt through the helmet at almost the same instant. The screen now displays a lot of information, including a trajectory and identifies a possible source. George realizes with a start, that he has just been shot at. With all his effort, he wills the bodysuit to move, then run, toward the safety of the spacecraft. Once inside, he gets out and inspects the suit. Sure enough, there is a small dent in the helmet. Feeling very shaky, George is unsure about heading home. He is the only one in the area, and again feels odd about the apparent trust these Gamin seem to be showing.
Just as he is walking down the ramp, an odd-looking vehicle pulls up. Emitting a low hum, it seems to float on a shimmering haze about one foot off the ground. George does not recall ever seeing such a craft. A panel slowly opens up in its side. At about sixty feet wide and over one hundred fifty long, the hovering craft has stubby wings and the narrow nose he has come to expect from Gamin vehicles.
A metallic sounding voice comes from inside the vehicle, “George, get in.”
George steps inside, and immediately notices that he, and one alien are the only occupants. The forward section has a number of controls, and a narrow-looking view screen that hugs the hull around the two of them, allowing one hundred eighty degrees of visibility.
“Sharz, is that you?” Asks a rather timid George, hoping he is not in some trouble. The few Gamin he has seen all look alike.
“It is. It’s time to show your people that some of us do care about the fate of your planet. Put this in your ear, and then speak a few words.” A small object is handed to George; it's very light and looks fragile.
With that, the craft lurches forward, but inside, George does not feel any acceleration. Seeing movement without feeling it is quite disconcerting for a moment. The object in his hand is very small indeed, and has an odd shape; he finds that it fits well enough in his ear. Thinking back, he does recall these craft now. They are the same as those suspended inside the spaceship along its interior walls.
“What is this device, a communicator?” George is a little afraid of what is about to happen.
Sharz starts to make some unintelligible noises, and, within a few moments, George is able to understand him, without the metallic sounds that he had gotten quite used to.
“Not all of us carry translators. That earpiece will do it for you. I hope you understand that you are about to experience a very rare privilege, one that many Gamin never even get.” Sharz sounds even less frightening without the metallic-sounding voice.
George is not sure how they converse in English, but he hopes to find out.
With that, the craft angles upward, blue skies give way to a star-filled view as it heads ever upward. Soon, a speck is visible ahead. It grows and shows itself to be a massive spacecraft. At the press of some control, more of the front section opens up, allowing even greater visibility. Sharz performs a slow roll with the craft, and the view is simply breathtaking. Earth is
below and numerous ships are visible; some are laying satellites, others are just hovering in orbit. Some are quite small, and seem to be travelling from one larger spacecraft to another, or going to and from the planet.
“Why me, Sharz, and what am I supposed to do?” George is now quite curious, and his fear is diminishing.
“Even though your home was destroyed, and some of your people were killed, rather than do nothing and accept your fate, you are taking action. Thus, you are determining your own future. As for what to do, you will bow before our leader, Regent Voknor. You will stand when he orders, answer when he orders, and do not ask questions unless invited to do so. Your very life is at stake, should you offend him.”
The tiny craft travels along the underside of the huge spaceship; this ship is easily twice the size of the one in New York. George is very surprised to see that it, too, shows dents and scorch marks along its flanks and underside. What is really going on here? He wonders to himself.
“Were you folks in a space battle or something?” asks George out of curiosity, more than anything else.
“Never speak of it. To do so is to ask for certain death. I have shared a little of our culture with you, and am willing to share more, but not yet.” Sharz seems almost angry, so George does not ask any more questions. He merely looks up at the massive spacecraft that now dominates the view.
They continue in silence as Sharz maneuvers the tiny craft toward a ramp that extends out. Flying up the ramp, they land inside the enormous spaceship. With many hand gestures on a flat screen, the faint hum fades, and the doorway opens in the little craft’s side.
Almost stumbling out, George finds that his feet feel heavier. The air is thicker, more humid, and it carries with it an unpleasant odor. Sharz takes in a deep breath as he steps out onto the deck and stretches. Taking a few tentative steps, George acclimates quickly. Taking carefully measured breaths, he tries not to gag on the foul, soupy air. Feeling steadier, he lifts, then carefully places his feet one at a time, as he adjusts to the slightly heavier gravity. He wonders how they entered this ship from space without an obvious dock, or other method of separating the inside atmosphere from space.
Sharz gazes about the massive deck area. Many Gamin are visible, and they stop what they are doing to stare at George. “Follow me. Do not make eye contact with anyone, and do not speak unless spoken to.”
The Gamin George can see, are of different heights, have differing shades of green skin, and some are even slightly mottled in color. Feeling a little fearful and woozy at the same time, he quietly nods. Casting his eyes downward, he follows Sharz through a maze of walkways, tunnels, and elevators. On the way, George can hear, and clearly understand, the comments made by nearby Gamin. They are either disgusted or fascinated by his presence. Some wonder why their leader is bothering with this lesser life form. They wonder if perhaps he is bored.
Finally, after a seemingly never ending walk, George finds himself looking upon a familiar scene. This is the bridge that was featured in the alien leader’s first contact with the people of Earth, but it is so much more impressive in person. The dominating feature of the expansive bridge is a centrally located, raised platform upon which resides a most impressive chair. It appears to be more of a throne than a command chair, made of an unusual material that seems to be either a petrified tree or perhaps a chunk of solid rock. Presiding over his subjects, Regent Voknor regally occupies this seat, wearing the very same robes he was wearing during his speech.
Glancing through the windows, George finds the view quite breathtaking. Earth, with its swirling cloud cover, lies seemingly at their very feet. As they stop walking, he sees his planet in a new light. Indeed, for the very first time he sees his home from a completely fresh perspective. Here in space he can see no borders, no distinctions; it is just one planet, albeit a planet in trouble.
The Gamin leader motions them forward. Moving to a position in front of the seated alien, Sharz lowers his head as he says. “I present to you, Regent Voknor, a most helpful individual, George of Earth.”
Sharz steps away, leaving George with his eyes cast downward, and wondering what the hell he has gotten himself into. This is their leader. Am I really before the one responsible for everything that has happened?
The Regent stands, and heads toward George, “Walk with me, George of Earth.” He says in a firm, demanding tone.
Keeping his gaze down, George keeps his steps short, so as not to outpace the slow-moving Regent. They stop at the massive window area. From here, the front of the spacecraft can be seen from above. The enormous vessel is even larger than George imagined, as it stretches off into the distance. George notices with surprise that the upper side is also pitted and scored. Long gouges in the ship’s hull are evident in many places. In the distance, an area of damage catches George’s attention and stops his breath. A long, wide scar travels across the top, then down the side of this monstrous spacecraft. What could have done this? He wonders. The damage is so great that even from this distance, George can see a deep canyon disappearing into the side of this great ship. His thoughts are quickly interrupted by the Regent.
“I am told you feel that we should interfere with the disturbance, here.” The Regent states as he motions to the view of the planet. Suddenly Earth seems to rush at them, and rotate. As the planet appears to get closer, George can discern the Korean peninsula. The view keeps zooming in quickly, and is now so detailed that land features can be made out, as wells as signs of a battle. Hundreds of tanks, artillery, and other vehicles litter the landscape, along with bodies. There are thousands of bodies scattered everywhere.
“Is this the conflict you wish me to interfere with, George?” The Regent states bluntly.
Fearfully, George can barely make his voice say, “Yes, Regent.”
The Regent stands over him before continuing. George is suddenly aware of how long and menacing the bone spikes on the underside of the Regent’s forearms seem to be.
“Look at me, and tell me why we should interfere. Be truthful; your fate and the fate of many below depend upon your answer.” The Regents stares down and waits for an answer.
George looks up, in what he believes is a respectful manner, and immediately notices how long the Regent’s teeth are. The alien is close to him, closer than he ever has been to Sharz. He can smell him now, it is a musty smell, like the smell of old leather. He looks into the Regent’s yellow eye slits and clears his throat.
Recalling some of his wife's wise words, George begins. “Regent Voknor of the Gamin, prior to your arrival, the armies of North Korea were kept at bay for fear of an air attack by the allies of the South. Thus, an uneasy peace was maintained. Some rulers have a cultural heritage that has little, to no regard, for the lives of others or for the consequences of their actions. Some cultures believe that all humans have a right to be free. These freedoms include the right to work, travel, live where they please, marry who they want, and to have a say in the way their government rules. Our planet has many petty wars, but I belong to a culture that loves freedom and peace above all else.”
With that long discourse over, George lowers his eyes, hoping that his comments have not angered this alien.
The Regent snorts, looks across at Sharz, and then retires to his chair. His cloak swirls behind him as he walks away, his demeanor unreadable. Once seated, Regent Voknor examines and measures the human before him. His three, claw-like fingers lift then drop, one at a time, on the ends of his armrests, making little tapping sounds as they drop over and over.
Finally, the Regent responds. “George, you belong to a culture that is always at war, yet you profess peace. I can see that you have a fanciful ideology. Your leaders have failed you. They are at this very moment trading away those freedoms of which you speak. You are a better speaker than most I have had to listen to. I sense truth through your fear. I will tell you that we are not here to enslave, or eliminate your people, but we will have what we need.”
George can almos
t feel the Regent’s eyes staring through him as he asks, “So, George, shall I destroy your enemies for you?”
George immediately jerks as he looks up and states, “No! More death is not what I am asking for, uh, Regent.”
The Regent sits forward, his fingers grip the end of his arm rests firmly. Sharz suddenly glances up at George, as he realizes that he has just said no to a creature who could do unimaginable things to him, and his planet.
“No!” The Regent repeats, as he stands again and heads to the view screen. It now shows Earth from a high orbit. Looking out, the Regent seems to be deep in thought for a moment.
“I can tell you George, that I do not hear that word very often, especially here.” The Regent’s tone is impossible to gauge as he motions around the room with a sweep of his arm. At this, George notices the half dozen Gamin that sit at various consoles; they are all looking at him.
With his back to George, a silence descends upon the room while the Regent continues to gaze at the planet below him. George can only hope that he did the right thing, as he is now quite nervous.
“Sharz, take George back, and then return to me.” The Regent issues his orders as he continues to gaze out the window.
Returning with Sharz, George can hear more of the Gamin crew’s comments. Some are surprised that he is still alive, while others still wonder what their leader wanted with an alien.
It is not until the tiny spacecraft has left the massive vessel, and is descending, that George dares speak. “I hope I did not make things difficult for you Sharz.”
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 15