Jerry had to remind him that there was another side to the dinner. Tensions between the humans and Nangolani were beyond a breaking point. On Earth, the aliens needed armed escorts to walk the streets, even in Vienna. Violent demonstrations plagued the few embassies that remained, and what had started as silent protests had escalated to a number of executions. The Net was filled with ghastly videos of scientists and physicians captured from their dormitories and murdered, often after hours of sadistic torture. It was worse than xenophobia; there was true malice in the acts. With Arthur’s help, Jerry hoped the event would help build a better rapport between the aliens and the general public, at least in a top-down way.
And the Nangolani royalty were represented in a big way. Magistrates Kadrine, Botont and Flur, as well as their extensive entourages, marched up and down the event floor, shaking hands and chatting away. The dignitaries seemed old hat at chumming with human politicians, and made quick headway at building better relations. Just talking to one of the aliens in such a comfortable if formal event held great sway over the mayors and governors and councilors. Near the head table, chatting with Admiral Gilroy and Vice Chancellor Kristoff, Emperor Anduin stood straight and proud. Even at his diminutive height, his presence demanded attention. He wore a beautifully cut suit with an ankle-length overcoat. Gold lining covered the black fabric, and multicolored medals and icons hung from his collar to his waist. Strangely absent from the Emperor’s side was the Royal Magister, the second-in-command of the alien race.
Nearby, Fleet brass grouped together to attack the buffet. Admiral Gilroy’s uniform was impeccably pressed and clean, with each brass button catching the light at just the right angle. The left side of his jacket bore his military history in row after row of campaign ribbons. On the right half, citations and awards hung down toward his belt. The most impressive, however, was the medal around his neck. Held in place with triple-corded gray fabric laced with crimson threads was a golden coin bearing the soaring falcon of the Colonial Federate. The Medallion of the Unchallenged had been the highest honor a soldier could earn for almost one hundred and fifty years. Gilroy wore the only one in the room.
The Admiral drained the last drop from his third glass of bourbon, placing the drink down on a nearby table with a loud thud. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and ran a hand down his sweaty, red face. He wandered toward the alien Emperor, a sour expression growing.“I hope you at least appreciate the trouble we went to throwing this event.”Gilroy surveyed the room for another drink. He sneered as his eyes fell on a costumed member of the Guard.“Such a disgrace.”
“What is that, Admiral?”Anduin asked. The elder Nangolani had barely spoken a word since boarding Imperion One. He seemed ill at ease, lost in a thought that never ended. His weathered face was stoic, barely creasing into a smile when approached by members of the press.
Gilroy scoffed.“All these blue-blooded pricks dressing up to impress each other, then handing out awards like they’ve earned any of them. Always turns my stomach.”
“Then why attend such a function?”
“As if I have a choice.”He looked down at the alien, eyes glazed.“When you put on this many stars, you have to learn to play the game. It becomes as much politics as knowing how to fight a war. And they’re not even letting me do that. I should be back in Africa dragging that arrogant fuck Von Braun behind my truck.”He caught a passing flute of champagne and threw it back. The glass was back on the waiter’s tray a second later.
Anduin’s lips tightened into a thin smile.“And how does one balance fighting a war with playing a game?”
“Not well.”Gilroy turned as a young woman approached with a new tumbler of scotch. He nodded in appreciation, already bringing the drink to his mouth.“Nowadays it’s the generals and rear admirals running most of the show. Takes the fun out of getting promoted, if you ask me.”
Anduin didn’t answer. He had found a more interesting subject across the room. Jerry and Arthur, lacking their boss, entered the gallery. Gilroy continued his tirade, but the alien paid no attention. He worked through the evening’s schedule in his mind, preparing for what would be the most important speech he would ever deliver. His race had never taken an affection to oration like the humans, but Anduin studied the art. Like all things in his life, he focused his attention on what was important until he had it perfected. Now it was time to test his mettle.
- IV -
Zev found it hard to stand still. Everything about his situation made him extremely uncomfortable. They stood inside a large tent, centered between the Boxti fortress and the siege line. Captain Grahams stood at parade rest, his hands clasped tight behind his back. To his right was General of the Armies Casey, acting strategic commander for New Eden. Seated at the table in the center of the room, her hair just right, sat Ambassador Maria Gutierrez. The rest of their contingent, armed security details, guarded the entrance and hovered in the shadows.
Then there was the other side. Zev knew somewhere in his mind that this was an historic occasion; the first real contact with the Boxti. But all he could feel was fear. Aside from the four-armed giant lumbering in the center of the group, the entire squad seemed comprised of abominations from the darkest nightmares of a horror writer. Two of the creatures, armed with thorn-covered clubs, resembled skinned wolves walking upright. Long, greasy spines covered their backs, trailing down to their legs. Near the door were the heavy muscle, three-eyed ogres with bifurcated jaws and thin sharp teeth. Standing directly behind their leader, and acting as skittish as Zev felt, was an urchin-like being with a furry one-eyed face extending from a veined stalk. It shifted from side to side on its many legs, chittering to itself.
Then there was the smell. Something underneath the layers of sweat and dirt, beyond the reek of gasoline and fire and death that permeated the air. A putrid penetrating aroma drifted out from the alien commander. Zev found it hard to place, but figured it was in the same family as ammonia. He fought to keep his eyes from watering.
“Can we begin?”Maria asked. The soldier had to admit, the politician had stones. She had hardly blinked when the monstrous creatures entered the parlay tent. It had been their request that led to the meeting, but tensions were high nonetheless.
The four-armed creature spoke, its voice a rough baritone. The urchin creature clicked in response and walked to the side of the table, near Maria’s young aide. It raised a long thin arm and wrapped it around the boy’s neck. He seized up, gripping at the appendage. Immediately the soldiers drew their weapons and shouted.
Zev pulled his pistol and pointed it at the alien leader.“Let him go!”
“Do you wish to speak or not,”the aide said in a low whisper.“I do not know your language, and this process could be very lengthy.”The alien whistled and its eye dropped down into the furry body.“I promise, the boy will not be harmed by this process.”
All eyes turned to the Ambassador as the weapons stayed trained on the arrayed host of beasts. No one moved. Zev concentrated on his breathing, trying to keep his pistol steady as his heart pounded in his ribcage. Sweat poured down his face and into his eyes, stinging and burning. Across from him, a lizard-faced alien shifted uneasily. Its golden eyes darted between Zev and the other humans, while its three-fingered hands flexed around a stubby machine pistol. For a moment, Zev shared a look with the creature and felt a strange connection. We both don’t want to be here.
The sergeant felt a hand on his shoulder. Captain Grahams motioned for the soldiers to back off.“OK,”the captain said.“Let’s all just calm down.”He eased his finger off the trigger, raising his pistol toward the ceiling.“You asked us here to talk. So talk.”
“Call me Shix,”the aide said.“I am translator and navigator for the esteemed Warlord Eruk djun Tolan.”At this, the four-armed creature stood and grunted. Its plated skin crackled with each movement.“Our leader does not learn new languages, so it is up to me to communicate with you. Please lower your weapons and we can begin.”
The hu
mans safetied their rifles and backed down, though not without a good amount of posturing and sneering. Maria put a hand over her chest to slow the pounding of her heart, casting a wary eye toward her repurposed assistant. Eruk, the Boxti Warlord, crossed both sets of arms in a familiar fashion, but his face revealed nothing.
“Shix,”Maria said.“What are your demands?”
The aide laughed, the sound so sudden and out of place that half the room jumped.“I want nothing more than a warm pond and an endless supply of drachni. I want to see my sun-spawn, to know the name of my youngest. I want that my sky had never seen the shadow of the Boxti. But that is not what you meant. You ask what Eruk djun Tolan would demand of you, or rather, what our Lord King commands. I will allow him to speak, but understand that this is considered a great honor for an unknown species. Please, for your own sake, do not interrupt.”
Eruk straightened, towering over the humans with his head just inches from the roof of the tent. His face was unreadable, a mask of muscle and bone spurs. To Zev it was the most alien face he had ever seen, despite vague humanoid characteristics. The room went silent as the Warlord began to speak in the Cthanul language, a sound like axes chopping at trees. Shix translated after every few sentences.
“By right of the Ruall, and in accordance with the wishes of our great Lord King, I begin this ritual. I am Eruk djun Tolan, Vanguard of the Tralank Vol, Warlord of the Boxti and honored disciple of His will. I am the right hand of the Horde, ordained by the Cleric Fulk to speak with the voice of the Druuma and carry out the commands of the Sovereign.”He stopped suddenly, looking down at Maria with interest.
Taking her cue, Maria stood and spoke. Shix translated back into the alien dialect.“My name is Maria Gutierrez, Ambassador and keeper of the planet New Eden. I am chair to the Council of Eros, and I speak with the voice of the Human race. I demand to know what brought you to our skies and by what right you seek a war.”
Eruk absorbed the information, seething at the woman’s words. Spines bristled along his muscular back.“The human race chose to accelerate its advancement into the Boxti horde. You had not been contacted by an Acolyte, nor even selected for observation. There is little your species has to offer the Great Conquest, other than planets to use as garrison. But in its infinite wisdom, the Lord King has decided to offer a chance to settle the dispute with little more bloodshed.”
The humans visibly relaxed at hearing this. Maria smiled and sat back down in her chair.“I am more than willing to hear your terms, Eruk djun Tolan. Please, tell me how we can bring this conflict to a peaceful resolution.”
Shix seemed to deflate, shrinking even further into his furry body.“You are given the same choice as thousands of civilizations before you. The recent fighting has proven your warriors worthy of honor. It is therefore offered that you accept conversion to the great conquest, allowing your warriors the right of the thrall, and joining the horde as an Initiate race. In time, if you prove your devotion to the Lord King, you will be afforded the chance to submit candidates to the Clerics to become Ruall.”
“I’m sorry,”Maria said.“I don’t understand.”
The aide spoke, and by the shaking timber of his voice Zev could tell that Shix was speaking freely.“It is the Ultimatum, the command given over to every civilization that has come before, and all that will come after. Join the Boxti, or face complete destruction.”
* * * * *
Sparks flew as metal hit metal. Josh dodged an overhand strike, narrowly avoiding the thin blade aimed at his shoulder. He countered with a low swing and tagged his opponent’s leg. A buzzer sounded as the contact armor activated and Pierre fell to the ground clutching his shin. The assembled crowd roared and cheered. Another foe bested.
They had all questioned the training. Swords did not belong on a modern battlefield. Most warfare took place in the skies over the planet, and ground forces relied on tried and true gun-and-run fighting. Sasha, a veteran of the Martian mines, had persisted and slowly they were all coming around. The swords were light and fast, folded carbonite with a titanium alloy and diamond whiskers. A nearly indestructible weapon, the katanas were now seen as extensions of their fighting tactics. Rifles jam. Ammunition is finite. But in close combat, nothing compared to a trained soldier with a powerful blade.
Josh was the savant of the group, knocking down the competition as quickly as it came up. Sasha often told them that it was a talent he could enforce but not give over and it had proven true. Alexa was fast and capable, but lacked the confidence to overtake her enemy. Fares had agility, but no power. Even Dax struggled, trying too often to muscle past his partner instead of using the techniques they had been taught. All of the Archangels had made definite progress.
“The match goes to the lieutenant,”Sasha said.“That’s it for today. You all need to keep practicing, work through the katas and find your centers of balance. I promise you, this will save your life one day.”
Cho groaned. He was the holdout of the group.“I’m still not getting it, sergeant.”
“You’re just mad because you lost to a girl,”Liane shot back. She had nearly taken his head off with a perfect cross strike, and it didn’t look like she would let that go easily. Fares clapped her on the shoulder and smiled.
“You have the rest of the day to practice. There will be no more formal training until PT tomorrow morning.”Sasha turned to Josh and grinned.“They’re all yours, sir.”He saluted and started back toward the facility.
Winter was ebbing, or at least that’s what the members of the scientific team were saying. It was hard to believe as the temperature only wanted to dip lower and lower, below twenty most mornings. The soldiers huddled together for warmth, blowing into their frozen hands to generate the smallest amount of heat. Dax wore his fleece jacket over his training uniform and still shivered, each shaky breath frosting in front of his face. He jogged over to his friend, his face red from the cold.
“It’s like you were born with one of those grafted to your arm.”
Josh laughed.“I don’t know, it’s just natural. Maybe I was a ninja in a past life.”He twirled the training blade around his wrist.“Joshua-san, the Jewish ninja warrior.”
“You were an idiot in a past life,”Alexa said, skipping over to join them.“Sir.”
Dax nudged Josh’s shoulder. He motioned for him to follow and led his former squad members into the hall.
“What is it?”Josh asked.
Dax and Alexa snickered.“Trust us,”Alexa said.“You’re going to want to be a part of this.”
* * * * *
“Well that went well,”the Ambassador said. She had led the small parlay party back to a secluded tent in the forward operating base. Once security had been posted, the politician kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto a cot, staring up at the canvas ceiling. She’d been silent the entire ride, immersed in her own thoughts.
On the other hand, Captain Grahams and General Casey hadn’t stopped talking since the meeting ended with an ultimatum. They called the rest of the units, mustering in preparation for an attack. Grahams ordered every tank put into fighting pits, while General Casey warned Admiral Walker to prepare Fleet for battle. The pipe dream of ending this war amicably went up in flames, and the mood was sufficiently somber.
Zev rested against a support pole, chewing on his lower lip. He’d thought the horrors of the quarantine zones had been bad enough, but nothing could have prepared him for what just happened. The human race was just given an expiration date.
“General,”Maria said.“I’m open to suggestions.”
General Casey had tried to argue with the alien warlord, but his words fell on deaf ears. After stating their case, the delegation of carnival horrors had left the humans alone in the tent.“We need to contact the High Chancellor and the Pillar leaders. Ground forces should prepare for movement within the week. It’s time to wrap up our actions in the infected cities as well.”
“Sir,”Zev started.“We should evacuate civilians now, whil
e it’s quiet.”
General Casey shook his head.“When we tried that two weeks ago, the Boxti armada nearly started back up. They react to any movement with force.”
“We can’t do nothing, sir.”Captain Grahams stepped closer to the general.“There are billions of lives at stake here. We can at least prep the Arks for launch, have people warned about what’s coming.”
“I don’t want to start a panic.”
“Trust me,”Maria said, sitting up.“People are already panicking.”She stood, pressing out wrinkles in her skirt.“They started when an alien race invaded the Sol System, kept it going while a sovereign colony burned to ashes, and reached a breaking point when the mighty Fleet couldn’t stop a biological attack on their homes.”She stared down each military man in turn.“We need to think about the safety of our citizens right now, not their emotions. But I do agree that evacuation is too hasty, especially if it causes the Boxti to attack outright. We need to prepare for the worst, but remain hopeful.”
Zev turned to his commander.“Captain, what about Paradise Point? We were headed in today to pick up survivors.”
General Casey answered first.“They’ll have to wait a little longer, sergeant.”
“They’ve already been waiting for weeks.”
“And I sympathize,”Casey said.“But we have bigger fish right now. Captain, I need you to relay what you’ve seen with General Kerry on the front. Let him know what the stakes are. I’ll have orders out by the afternoon.”
Captain Grahams lingered a moment.“And if the Boxti attack first?”
“Then hold the line, Captain.”General Casey walked toward the exit, a new energy in his step.“Hold to the last breath.”
When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) Page 41