by Josi Russell
As the group read, curses and horrified comments bounced around the table.
“4,000?”
“Breeding colony?”
“Of high-quality genetic material?”
Reagan, still standing as he leaned over the table to read, slammed his fist on the table. “This is despicable. It’s wrong. We find another way.”
Allexis spoke. “Phillip, there is no other way.”
“There’s always another way.”
“Phillip, we’ve had extensive negotiations already. We’ve brought the number down from 50,000 to 4,000—only one ship’s worth. We’ve secured a commitment that if we . . . do this, the people on Minea now will be safe and those on their way there will be guaranteed a planet unthreatened by these pirates.”
“Pull the people on Minea. Get them home, turn the other ships around, and leave the forsaken rock to rot.” Reagan was pacing again.
“We can’t. We don’t have the resources to get them out of there in time.”
“What about RST? Bring them back the same way you got us here.”
“Don’t be a fool, Reagan. It’s way too risky with that many people. Too many variables. Besides, we only have enough RST ships to transport a fraction of the people we have there already. You need to face the fact that without this treaty, the Alorans will simply take the people already on Minea anyway. This way, at least we minimize the damage.”
“Minea isn’t worth this. Colonization isn’t worth 4,000 human lives.” Reagan was looking at the table, his hands open, pleading.
“Don’t be so quick to judge that,” the president said quietly, but firmly. Every face turned to him. “That’s right—there’s more complexity to this than any of you know. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it, Allexis? To spill the top-secret information that these bugs have already vaporized people on Minea? To destroy your carefully publicized picture of Minea as a safe, happy haven?”
He punched some codes into his computer. “Look at your screens now. What you’re watching is footage of an attack on Minea—an attack that officially never happened—when these bugs disintegrated an entire squadron of our most advanced defense ships. And now, on the screen, you’ll see something worse.” The delegates looked back up at him in horror, one by one, excepting Reagan and Allexis, who both continued to stare at the table in front of them. “That’s right. That is the same Aloran ship above Earth. They’ve been here. They have nearly instantaneous travel capabilities.
Allexis spoke again. “If we don’t give them what they're asking for—” He looked the delegates in the eyes. “They’ll take what they want and possibly destroy Earth. If we don’t sacrifice 4,000, the Alorans have assured us that there will be no humans left.” After a pause, he added, “One way or another.”
It was obvious that the people around the table were coming to accept the inevitability of the decision. Except Reagan, of course. He began to speak again, in that explosive voice, but Allexis interrupted him in a quiet, measured tone.
“What about Kaia, Phillip?” Reagan went quiet and his eyes grew wider. “Do you want your only child vaporized? Do you want her life cut short? If we do this, everything goes on the same. We continue colonizing Minea. You can take Kaia there with you. You can see her raise your grandchildren on a beautiful, lush, safe new world.”
Reagan was still. He sunk into his chair and put his head in his hands. His voice was muffled as he said, “Can’t we fight?”
Allexis spoke again in the same subdued tone. “We tried. They are too advanced. Even the Universal Alliance can’t promise protection.”
“We can send them in families,” the president said, in a falsely hopeful tone. “They will stay together and go as ambassadors of the human race to a planet where no human has ever set foot.” He stood, straightening the wrinkles out of his suit with his palms as he did so. As he spoke, he made large, sweeping motions with his hands, as if he was painting. “Think of it! Humanity in close contact with a Class 15 civilization. Why, we could leap ahead in the civilization development cycle. Should they learn some of the secrets of such a civilization, there is no reason that they couldn’t leave whenever they wanted to. They could come to Minea on ships of such speed that they may beat people leaving today! They could bring us new technologies, new weapons. These 4,000 could be the greatest heroes the human race has ever known!” He finished with both arms raised and spread open, taking in the whole room.
A small sound was heard in the silence that he left. McKendra Thrush was weeping. Kelty was shaking his head. “That’s unlikely. This type of a civilization would be ready for any escape attempts. No, no, we need to understand, if we do this—”
“They’ll be the property of the Alorans,” Thrush said through her tears. “Somewhere in the universe, humanity will be in bondage . . . forever.”
The president switched his tactic. “If that’s true,” his arms stayed still at his sides, “then the sacrifice they make for the rest of humanity will still make them heroes.”
“And you plan to recognize them as such? Have a big ribbon-cutting ceremony when the slave ship leaves its port?” Reagan’s bitterness was unrestrained.
The president turned on him. “Pull yourself together, Reagan. You’ve been in battle before. You’ve made these sorts of decisions. Which men do you send to the front lines, knowing full well that they won’t come back? Which do you put in the office, where they’ll never see a day of action? You buy and sell your men every day.” He turned and walked stiffly back and forth at the end of the table. “This will, of course, have to remain classified. Few beyond this room will know of the decision or its implementation.”
“So the decision has been made, then?” Reagan raised his head and looked around the table.
“The facts are on the table,” the president said. “We know the proposal, and we know its implications, either way. It’s time we call the vote, Allexis.”
Allexis shifted uncomfortably but nodded. “Yes, sir.” He looked around the table, sorrow in his eyes. “I’d trade this assignment for any bloody battle on any field in the galaxy,” he said softly. Then, “It is proposed that we meet the Aloran terms of peace by trading 4,000 human souls for the sovereignty of the planet Minea, and for the safety of our home planet, Earth. How do you vote on this proposal?” He looked at the president first.
“I vote in favor,” said the president. Allexis nodded and then looked at Hoxna Kelty.
“I also vote in favor,” said Kelty, shaking his head again. Then he looked around the table. “Don’t you see, it’s the only way.”
McKendra Thrush, still weeping, gave her vote in favor.
Himura spoke quietly. “I don’t like it, but I suppose . . . for the greater good . . . ” he looked up and nodded. “In favor,” he said quietly.
Phillip Reagan paused and then looked back at Allexis. “I’m sorry. I know the fate of the planet seems to hang on it. I know that you say there is no other way. I know that I may be consigning myself and everyone I love to an awful fate, but I can’t. I’ve spent my whole life fighting for freedom and peace on Earth. I can’t sell people into slavery. I—I won’t. I vote against.”
Allexis nodded, his own eyes shining with tears. “I wish I had your conviction, Phillip. I admire your courage. But I don’t see any other way. I vote in favor.” He closed his eyes for a split second and then looked around the table with dry eyes and a returned military manner. “The proposal passes by a majority. We will accept the terms of the Aloran’s proposal. You may return to your quarters while I inform the Alliance and proof the final treaty. We will meet again to sign the treaty and settle the final terms. Please consider the following: How will we decide who is sent to Beta Alora? What resources will be needed to ensure the secrecy of the mission? You will receive a bulletin when it is time to meet again. All efforts will be made to expedite this process and get you home as soon as possible. Thank you for your service. You are all dismissed.”
Six doors opened in the
oval room, one behind each chair. The delegates stood and each entered a separate hallway leading to their chambers. The screen went dark again.
Ethan looked over and saw Kaia. She sat frozen, fists clenched. Tears were streaming down her face. He switched the box off and the screen faded, leaving them in the hold’s half-light.
“Now I know why he didn’t want me to marry David. He knew. He knew that David’s ship was going to Beta Alora. He knew David would be a slave.” There was anger and pain in her voice, and then her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Ethan, you don’t think he knew . . .” She shook her head, as if it were too horrible to say, “that David would be . . . murdered?” She was trembling.
“No, no, Kaia.” Ethan moved to her and put his arms around her. “He tried to stop it. There was nothing he could do.” An idea dawned on Ethan. “And I see it now. Your father embedded the treaty documents, probably hoping David would find them in time to turn the ship.”
There was bitterness in Kaia’s voice. “But then David was murdered. Not by you, maybe not even by my father, but murdered. He would have known within hours that the ship was off course. He would have overridden the computer before the ship even—” She saw the guilt in Ethan’s eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault either . . .” Sudden anger flared in her and she slammed her fist on the couch. “My father could have told me. I could have warned David. I could have stopped this whole thing . . .”
“You can’t take that kind of responsibility for this. This was decided long before even your father knew about it.”
“It can’t have been the only way.” She wiped her arm across her eyes, leaning against him.
Ethan was silent. Waves of disbelief and fear washed over him. He was thrust back to the long, dark days after McNeal died. Everything he’d come to expect was washed away in light of these new revelations. There would be no forty-eight years aging in space, but there would also be no blue cottage for Aria and the baby, no future of blue skies and clean air for them. He would be reunited with Aria in a few days time, but they would be subject to the whims of this new, brutal alien race. The thought of Aria’s delicate wrists in shackles, of their child being born under the yoke of bondage, made something inside him snap.
He stood and walked purposefully to the door.
“We can’t change their decision,” he said sternly. “Earth’s government wouldn’t fight for these people. But I was charged with protecting them, and I will fight for them now.” He turned and strode out of the hold.
Kaia caught up with him halfway down the hall. “Where are we going?” she asked, stepping quickly.
“To the nav room. I need to know how much time we have before we land on Beta Alora, how much time we have to pull this ship off its course and point it toward Minea.”
When the door to the Primary Navigation Room opened, Ethan and Kaia both stopped short. The huge observation windows were filled with the red planet Beta Alora. The ship was moving down through the atmosphere already.
“It’s too late,” Kaia said.
Ethan’s jaw tightened as he walked to the window. Around them, the air was foggy and translucent. Below them, on the surface, they saw the beginnings of pinkish mountains and deep umber valleys. Spots of water reflected the pale red sky back at them.
“Ethan, we’ll be on the surface in hours. We must have been locked into a tractor beam that accelerated our descent. We don’t have time to switch to manual navigation. Anyway, even if we did, we couldn’t get out of this tractor beam.”
“We’ll have to come up with a new idea, then. Once we’ve landed, we’ve got to get back off the planet before the aliens board.”
Kaia shrugged. “Ethan, this ship was built in space. It doesn’t have the power or the equipment to take off from a planet.” He saw a dullness in her eyes which he’d never seen before. “Anyway, they said the planet was fantastically shielded.”
“Kaia!” Ethan whirled on her. “You’re ready to give up? Just throw in the towel and commit yourself to slavery?”
“Ethan,” her eyes shifted, “what if they’re right? I mean, we’re talking about all of humanity. What if we did get away and . . . and they came for everyone?”
He paused. “There has to be way to fight them.”
“Sometimes you run out of choices, and you just have to accept your fate.” Her voice was weary.
“My fate?” He shook his head. “This isn’t about me, Kaia. Or even about you. Even if I accepted it as ‘my fate,’ does that give me the right to give up and turn this whole shipful of people—of families, Kaia—over to these Alorans? These people went to sleep expecting to wake up on Minea. I’m the Caretaker, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure they do.”
It was then, as Ethan and Kaia stood facing each other, with the scarlet clouds billowing just outside the window behind them, that they heard the voices.
Chapter 19
Ethan and Kaia’s eyes locked, seeking confirmation of what they thought they'd heard. They both looked back toward the door to the navigation room. Rough, low-pitched sounds were coming from the hallway on the other side.
“Someone’s here.” Kaia hissed. “They’re not speaking our language, either.”
“The Alorans must have come to check things out early,” Ethan said softly, slipping an arm around her and pulling her over to the wall.
“How did they get on? The computer announced no ship docking.”
“I have no idea. But they’re here now. And they’re headed this way.” He looked puzzled. “Why can we hear them? The doors are closed.”
“They must speak on a different frequency, one that travels through titanium like our voices travel through water. And it sounds as if they talk significantly louder than we do too.” She cringed closer to Ethan.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” Ethan’s eyes scanned the room. There was no good place to hide.
Suddenly, he felt Kaia pulling him by the arm toward the Secondary Navigation Room. Once inside, she pointed to the one panel she’d left open after closing up the computer banks. They slipped through the hole into the Tertiary Navigation Room and she pulled the panel closed behind them. Carefully, she unclipped the wires inside the panel, letting them fall back like a curtain over the hole, and used the clips to secure the loose piece of wall. In front of it, she released the wires on her side of the hole and closed the panel, setting it into the grooves that held it, but not securing it.
Ethan listened carefully to the sounds from the hallway on the other side of the wall. Recognition came to him and he looked up in surprise. “Kaia,” he whispered. “They’re speaking Xardn!”
She looked at him.
“Yes,” he said softly, “yes. I hear it. It is . . . different, slightly, than we speak it. It sounds like a strong accent, but it is Xardn.” A hope began to grow in Ethan. Perhaps, if he could communicate with them, he had a chance of finding a way to negotiate with them.
They listened again. Kaia caught his eye and held up four fingers, raising her eyebrows in a question.
He nodded. It did sound like there were four of them. They had reached the Primary Navigation Room, and as their voices intensified, Ethan realized they were in the Secondary Navigation Room. He stepped softly toward the computer bank and pressed his ear against a panel.
A gruff voice was speaking in Xardn. Ethan caught most of the sentence. “No humans appear to be left aboard. Perhaps the human military did away with the Caretaker as we proposed.”
Another one spoke. “If they were wise, they took our advice.”
“Have they fulfilled the terms of the agreement?”
“It appears that they have. There are 4,000 slaves aboard. They are in stasis below.”
“I think it wise to keep them that way until after they are distributed to the buyers,” said another one.
“I agree. There is less complexity that way.”
“Are the slaves suitable examples of the species?”
“Come see for yo
urselves.”
There were grunts of agreement, and the voices and thumping feet moved out of the nav rooms, back into the hall. The silence of the ship returned.
Kaia looked at Ethan with wide eyes. “What are we going to do?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“We need to see what we’re dealing with. Maybe we could somehow gain the advantage here on the ship and use these four for leverage.”
“We take them hostage?” Kaia looked doubtful.
“Well, we’ve got to try something. I’m not huddling here in this little room to see my family ‘distributed’ to Aloran buyers. We’ve got to get out of here and get a look at them.”
He saw that she was looking above him, her eyes focused on some point above his head. A panel had been removed in the ceiling and the shafts stretched away on either side of the hole it left.
He held out his hand. Kaia took it and he boosted her up into the shaft. She leaned down and gave him a hand up. When his shoulders were through, she sat back and he grabbed onto her knees to wiggle himself in the rest of the way.
They moved as quietly as possible in the shafts. She led the way, and they came to the overlook above the passenger hold without incident. As they slipped out onto the high walkway, they immediately laid down on their bellies, freezing as they heard the door at the far end of the room open. The voices of the Alorans got louder as they approached.
Suddenly, the creatures came into view. Ethan drew in a sharp breath.
They were taller than humans, perhaps an average of about eight feet tall. Their heads were even with the fans in the tops of the stasis chambers. Though they had two thick legs and walked upright, the broad plates of dark armor covering their bodies reminded Ethan of Earth’s scorpions. They moved with remarkable grace for creatures of such bulk. At the ends of their two plated arms were powerful apendages—a combination of digits and claws, like complex crab’s claws. One was substantially bigger than the other and had two barbed pincers. The other smaller claw was a combination of claw and hand, with individual plated digits almost delicate in their intricacy.