Even the ship design varied so much that most of the team had initially worried they had encountered a new alien race altogether. Lunar Y-Fighters—”Hornets,”as the pilots called them—had smooth curves at each intersection of metal, whereas at Tallus the ships were more angular and the material more dense. The carriers present in the first battle seemed hollow and frail, a stark contrast to the devastating capital ship from the month after.
Mara scribbled down notes in her small tablet. The stylus traced glowing yellow lines on the screen. Ray marveled at the intricate script. It was unlike any written language he’d ever seen, a fantastic collage of spirals and geometric shapes. She must have noticed him staring, because she suddenly stopped and looked up.
“Is something wrong, doctor?”Her voice was light compared to the rest of the Nangolani in the room. She smiled, taking the time to form the expression correctly.
Ray stammered.“No. No, I’m sorry. I was just,”he struggled to find his words.“I was admiring your penmanship.”
Mara looked down at the device in her hand. She frowned.“I’m not holding a pen.”
“Your use of a stylus then.”
She laughed.“Your people seem incapable of holding a single thought for more than a few minutes. You realize we have at least another sixty-four hours left to watch?”
“Sixty-four hours and nineteen minutes,”Ray said.“I’m used to boredom. I was an observatory babysitter for two years.”
“Then shouldn’t you want to speed up the process?”
He sighed.“Doesn’t matter how fast we go. We keep getting more data. And the more they give us, the more questions we’re going to be able to ask.”
“And the more questions,”a voice said,“the longer it will take to find all the answers.”
Ray looked up at Director Chavez. The tall, gaunt man placed a hand on each scientists’shoulder. He noticeably jerked his fingers when they touched the alien’s skin. Mara, for her part, didn’t show any reaction.
“Sorry, director,”Ray said.“We were just talking.”
“Raymond, you were brought on this project to help us learn more about our enemy.”Chavez paced around their table.“We have so much to learn about the Boxti before we’ll be ready to truly fight them. As it is, we’re still finding out new and exciting things about the Grays.”He stressed the last word, his throat tight, as he looked at the alien.“Needless to say, we have our work cut out for us. I need you to stay on task. Save the talking for after your shift ends.”
Ray’s face grew red.“Yes, sir.”
“Good sport. Now, let me know if you find anything useful.”Chavez looked at Mara, a flash of distaste passing over his face. He turned toward the far end of the room and strode off, greeting the other groups as he passed.
Ray faced Mara.“I’m sorry, he shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine,”she said, waving her hand.“It takes more than being called a color to offend me.”
“Even so, it’s not right of him.”
She put a small hand on his wrist.“Ray, you’re a very sensitive man. And I do appreciate the gesture. But honestly, If I don’t concentrate I often miss what people are saying. If they’re using some sort of subliminal hate speech, it never enters my head.”She grinned.“I guess I’m lucky in that respect.”
“So it doesn’t bother you?”
“Not as much as it worries me.”She looked at Chavez as he exited the room.“I don’t understand the trust issues your people have with mine. It’s been months, and we’ve been nothing but cooperative.”
Ray shrugged.“We’re human. It’s part of our nature to be curious. Makes it hard for us to take anything at face value.”He wiped his face with his hands.“Jesus, this is boring.”
Mara pushed her tablet over toward him. She had drawn a fairly accurate caricature of Chavez. The director’s face was pinched in the middle, making him look like an angry mole. Ray laughed.
“That’s really good. I didn’t know you could draw.”
She blushed, her cheeks turning a darker shade of gray.“We’re not supposed to. It’s against the teachings of the Ambra Dowan.”She quickly erased the display.“Emperor Anduin wouldn’t approve.”
Ray cocked his head to the side, admiring the alien scientist.“What is your religion like?”
Mara sighed, her brow pulled in a decidedly human expression.“While most Nangolani follow the Ambra Dowan, we try to keep our personal beliefs to ourselves. Every species has an opinion about faith and the gods and how it all fits together. In our collective experience, we found that religious debate never ends well.”
“Please,”Ray said.“I’m not much for church talk, but I’d love to learn more about you.”
She looked at him, her large eyes warm and hopeful.“I’ll tell you a story, but that’s all.”She collected herself, pushing her notes aside so she could illustrate the tale on her tablet.“Back in the Second Era, long before my birth, her Eminence Darna Wo walked the silver lakes of Nai’Lanei with a group of the smartest minds of her time. Scientists and doctors, emperors and scholars all walked alongside the Star Child and asked questions about the path of Guiding Light.
“Now most of the people who met Darna Wo treated her as royalty. In the first pages of her journal, she often wrote about the other worlds she had visited. In each case, emissaries would rush to bring her gifts, to welcome her to their homes. She was never treated ill or in any danger along her travels.
“But on this day, the pride of the Nangolani caused them to forgo manners in search of answers. They pestered her for hours, trying to trick her into admitting she was a fraud. Even though she had already proven so much to the people of our world, the leaders of that ancient civilization refused to believe that a higher power could exist. But Darna Wo, in her grace and patience, took each insult without pause. After enduring their pestering all morning, Darna Wo asked the King of the Ten Continents to deliver his final request before she would retire for the noon meal. The King was considered by many to the wisest leader to ever have lived. He thought for a long time before asking his question:‘How can you prove any of what you have taught?’
“Darna Wo answered immediately.‘Belief is a gamble you will always win. The path of the Guiding Light asks not for money or power. It asks that you treat others with respect, that you love your fellow, and that you seek peace and understanding above all. If you live your life this way, and in the end come to dust alone, have you lost anything? If you walk the righteous path and find light at the end, haven’t you gained all? So you see,’she said.‘It is not for me to prove to you, but for you to wager for yourself.’”
Ray let out a breath.“That was beautiful.”He checked over his shoulder, making sure no one was sneaking up on them.“I guess we’re not too different in that either. Humans, at least in the last hundred or so years, have started to separate religion from everything else. It wasn’t always like that. Some of the worst acts ever committed were in the name of one god or another. I think, once we started getting more and more people into space, they realized just how small and insignificant our planet really was.”
“Why do you think that mattered?”
“If there is a God, and he created all of this, then he couldn’t possibly want you to kill each other over something as silly as how you organize your prayers. He’d be too busy running the universe.”
“What do you believe?”she asked.
Ray shrugged.“I was raised Baptist, but our preacher was a little more forward thinking. I always remember something he told me a few years before I graduated. He said that using religion to build a box around knowledge keeps us ignorant and cruel. As the universe is ever expanding, so must our understanding of God continuously grow. The point of our lives isn’t to find God and pin him down. It’s to find our path to him, and have the courage to walk it.”
“Thank you, Ray.”Mara brushed aside a lock of hair, pulling her scattered notes back together. Their eyes locked and, for a brief mom
ent, lingered. Then Mara turned away quickly and switched her monitor to a new feed.“We should get back to work.”
- IX -
“And then you destroyed their world.”It was not a question, but an accusation. With each syllable, the words of the Cleric grew more and more intense. Their meeting was only just beginning, but was off to a terrible start. Standing at attention before the tribunal, Eruk djun Tolan put on a brave face.
They were aboard the Ma’Arak’s vessel, the flagship of the entire armada. Though his high commander was not present, Eruk still felt a sense of dread at being summoned before the Enclave. As a Cthanul, he was used to towering over the heads of his subordinates. Yet here, in the presence of the true Boxti, he could only stare up into the faces of his former conquerers.
Like all natives of Boxt, the elder Cleric looked chiseled from stone. Having evolved under intense radiation, all members of the race borne of the Homeworld grew thick carapaces that covered their bodies from head to toe. Even though the ceiling stood ten feet overhead, the Boxti had to stoop as it paced before the warlord. Under its flowing multicolored robe, three sets of hands clasped behind a thin and spiny back.
“You were given orders, were you not?”The Cleric’s questions seemed rhetorical.“I can assume you understood the Enclaves intent?”It blinked, its six sets of eyes going through the motion one after another.
Eruk stood his ground, though he sensed the Druuma trembling.“A mining vessel was attacked by a new species. They found a nearby world inhabited by the creatures and reported it to me.”He swallowed, trying in vain to moisten his pallet.“The Lord King’s decree on such an attack is well known. An example had to be made.”
“And it was,”the Cleric said. One seven-fingered hand appeared, fingers tapping the side of its face. Eruk knew that all Cleric’s were without gender, having sacrificed such wonton things in their purification rituals. He wondered if this specimen had been born male or female. The Druuma chastised him for such thoughts.
The Boxti continued.“Narakoffwas dispatched, along with a flight of destroyers and frigates. The planet was to be bombarded and used as an initial point-of-contact.”
“They outnumbered us,”Eruk started.“We had no choice.”
The Cleric spat.“You were reckless and endangered the Horde.”It turned away, clucking impatiently.“No matter. Your fate is not to be decided today.”
“No?”Eruk asked. He clenched his jaw.
“We are sending you back to the human system. Our presence is known to them now, for good or not. We will proceed with the introduction in the usual way.”
The warlord could hardly believe his luck. No punishment, and a chance at redemption.“And what message shall I bring to them?”
With a groan, the Cleric settled into a tall chair at the center of the wall.“Peace, young warlord. Let them know we come in peace.”
- X -
January 31, 2237
Jonah stood at the edge of the landing pad, looking straight down toward the ground. The fog completely blocked any sign of the streets below. From everything the news reported, one would think no one still lived down there. Crime had increased to an astronomical level, and pollution had raised the risk of lung disease by one hundred percent. But he had been in the ghettos with the other forgotten of society. He had smelled the raw sewage that oozed up from the overfilled waste lines under the massive towers. He’d seen the emaciated bodies of women and children, no longer starving but just waiting for death. He’d been a part of that grimy, unwanted life and relished in every moment. Those were his people.
Mars had been a chance to change the hand fate had laid out. That had been the slogan written in bold letters on the posters they’d plastered all over the slums. The walls of buildings became bulletin boards for the different unions. No experience necessary, just a willingness to work hard and accept a challenge. The learning curve wasn’t so steep that it precluded any particular person. Even the age limit had been lowered to allow younger and younger citizens to sign up for mining or tower jumping or line duty. If you had a sense for danger and wanted better pay, positions at the poles paid triple.
Jonah had been a child then, not yet fifteen, when he’d put down his name on the charter form. He closed his eyes and remembered the day. The sun had barely been able to trickle down to the ground, even with the array of mirrors the city government had emplaced. He’d stood there with his best friend, waiting patiently for the line to move forward, and listened to the sales pitch be delivered again and again as more people arrived. When his turn had come, he’d put down his mark without hesitation. Anything had to be better.
“Sir?”The sound stole Jonah from his reverie. He looked up and saw a young soldier standing at the edge of the platform. From his wavering stance and wide eyes, it was plain to see the boy wasn’t a fan of heights. The ride over must have been hell for him. Jonah smiled. Just to be here, the young man had overcome fear.
“What is it?”Jonah asked, stepping away from the ledge.
The soldier peered over the edge, swallowing back a wave of vertigo.“It’s the reporter, sir. He wants an audience.”
“Oh, does he, now?”
He nodded.“Yes, sir. He said he needed to speak with you right away.”
Jonah pursed his lips, mulling over the request.“Send him in. And call Victor.”He walked to the center of the platform and clasped his hands behind his back. Jonah heard the reporter walk up from behind, shoes clacking on the concrete. Greg had on the same suit he wore to the New Year’s party. Jonah grimaced. The outfit was intentionally gaudy and struck him as being in poor taste.
“Mr. Kent, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The reporter stormed forward, coming within a half foot of the rebel leader.“Cut the bullshit, Blightman. I’m not in the fucking mood.”
Jonah’s eyes grew wide and his face flushed red.“Oh really? Well then, straight to business.”
“I thought we had an arrangement, Jonah. What the fuck?”
“Calm down, Kent,”Jonah warned.“What seems to be the problem?”
Greg paced around the pad. Droplets of water began falling from the sky, starting a drum beat that grew faster and faster as the storm swelled. The overcast clouds sent down a chilling rain that bit through clothing. Jonah barely felt the change in weather, so focused was he on the other man.
Greg grinned, but there was no humor behind it.“You’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“You asked me to tell the truth to the people of Earth. Your truth,”he said, pointing his finger.“And they believe it. They believe me, and that’s because they trust me. I’m your ace-in-the-hole, Jonah.”
“I’m still not hearing a point, Kent.”Jonah looked back toward the office and saw Victor standing at the window. The rain bore down in thicker sheets as thunder clapped overhead.
Greg stopped near the edge a few paces from Jonah.“Where would you be without me? Huh? I made this all possible for you. The siege ended because of me. Earth is on your side now because of me. Hell, if I wanted I could make you the next Governor of America. I could make you the fucking Ambassador of Earth. I have this planet eating out of my hand.”He turned to face the rebel.“And you have me treated like I’m still a fucking hostage. I can’t leave the tower. Your fucking goons have every exit blocked off, even though the rest of these peons come and go as they please.”
“If you wanted to get out, all you had to do was ask.”
Greg scoffed.“Like it’s that easy. You’d just let me go.”
Jonah kept his voice metered, but inside he urged to lash out.“You’ve become very useful to me, a resource I would never let go of easily. I needed to make sure you were on the same page before letting you out into the world with only your word that you were coming back.”
The reporter placed his face an inch from Jonah’s.“So how about some fucking respect for a change?”
He moved so quickly Greg never saw it co
ming. In one instant Jonah grabbed the man by the collar and spun him around, throwing him toward the edge of the pad. At the last second he caught Kent’s tie. The reporter’s heels dug into the concrete lip as he hung precariously over the unfathomable drop. The knot closed in around his throat like a noose, choking him.
“No,”he coughed out.“Please!”Greg held his tie with both hands, his knuckles white.
Victor appeared at Jonah’s side in an instant. His face was stoic. He took the tie from his leader’s hands, keeping Greg a second from death. Jonah paced around the two men, his face dark and angry.
“I think we’ve reached a turning point in our relationship,”he said.“You seem to have forgotten the path that led us here. Allow me, then, to remind you of our terms.”He stepped forward, placing a finger on Greg’s chest. The reporter whimpered.“I run this planet not because of your silver tongue, not because I have truth on my side, but because I possess the will to do so. I used you because you were in the building. If it had been your day off, I would have found some other idiot in a nice suit to sit down and read what I gave him. You owe me everything that you’ve become.”
Victor smiled malevolently.“It takes a seriously stupid man to piss off Jonah Blightman, Kent. Not that I’m that surprised at you.”
“Please, you can’t kill me.”Greg struggled to breathe.“You need me.”
Jonah shook his head.“Not anymore. I can get anyone to be the voice of Galactic Media. This was only one phase of the operation, and we’re just about done.”
Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the pouring rain.“But you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) Page 31