First Strike

by Christopher Nuttall

  Chapter Twelve

  The streets of Center’s floating city looked normal, even though the universe had just turned upside down. Hundreds of thousands of people, from a hundred different races, thronged the streets, coming together in an association supervised by the Association. The Cats had dreamed of a universe where every race worked together for the common good, but the way they’d gone about it had been largely counterproductive. And now they were losing interest in maintaining the edifice they’d created.

  Ambassador Li Shan walked through the streets, badly shaken. She'd known, of course, that both Federation Intelligence and ONI operated out of the human embassy on Center. It was still the heart of the explored galaxy, still a place where humans could learn about the Galactics and dig through records that stretched back over thousands of years. But to be told that there was a set of intelligence operators that she’d never known about, until one of them had been ordered to reveal himself, was shocking – and the discovery that Earth was embarking on a war was terrifying. No one had told her, not until the first strikes had already been launched. Logic told her that they couldn't have sent a message until the war actually began, for fear of interception and decryption, but it was hard not to resent their decision.

  Four men from the embassy walked behind her, all trained and experienced Federation Marines. The Cats didn't permit others to carry weapons on their world – it was meant to be a place of harmony – but the Marines had a few surprises up their sleeves. It was quite possible that the Funks would attempt to assassinate Earth’s Ambassador, once they realised that the war had begun. They’d probably have to disown the assassin and pay reparations – after all, they wouldn't want the Association to wake up until it was too late – but it would pay off handsomely. Earth wouldn't be able to get another accredited Ambassador out to Center for years and her deputy wouldn't be accepted by the Galactics. Just another convention that the Galactics couldn't be bothered to change.

  The streets looked busy, with market sellers trying to sell their wares, but it was easy to see what was missing. There were no Cats within the crowd, and indeed few of them within the city itself. The terminal ennui that was wearing away at their determination to tame the universe and bend it to their will was slowly killing them, even though no Cat had died naturally for thousands of years. No one was entirely sure just how many were still inclined to take an interest in galactic affairs or were even alive, out of a population that once numbered in the hundreds of trillions. There was no demographic data available on their population these days. Shan was inclined to believe that some Cats realised the danger and were doing their best to hide their weakness from the rest of the galaxy, but there was no way to know for sure. Even her sources on Center couldn't find out everything.

  She tensed as she saw a pair of Funks heading across the street. Neither of them seemed aware that they were at war with the human race, but it wouldn't be long before the news reached Center. Some of the hypothetical war plans she’d seen had suggested blowing up the relay stations, before the diplomats had seen the plans and vetoed them. The relay stations were linked to the quantum gates and nothing would be more likely to bring the entire galaxy down on Earth’s head. Destroying a gate was regarded as the ultimate crime, because it threatened the very foundations of civilization. Even mass-producing and deploying subversion nanites was less dangerous.

  Like all races, the Hegemony maintained its own embassy on Center. It had been built in the style they’d used before they’d been contacted by the Association, a weird building that reminded her of a cross between a castle and a tent. Their homeworld had had few permanent cities, not unlike Earth in the years before humans had moved from hunter-gatherers to farmers. Indeed, the Funk culture – such as it was – had disdained the city-folk before they’d gained access to advanced technology. Maybe they would have evolved away from the demands of their homeworld if they’d been allowed to develop naturally. But the Association had never given them that chance.

  And yet they’d adapted to the existence of more powerful races better than humanity…

  By custom, any Ambassador could call upon another Ambassador at any time, without warning. The Association’s traditions for a declaration of war were rather less detailed, if only because the brushfire wars were really nothing more than minor skirmishes. When the Cats had been strong and determined, they'd been able to keep younger races from fighting each other. Now… even without humanity starting a war with the Hegemony, no one expected the uneasy peace to last more than a few decades. Scrabbling over the division of the Association’s space had already begun.

  She stepped up in front of the forcefield and held up the pendant that certified that she was an accredited Ambassador, appointed by Earth and accepted by the Association Commune. The guard – an unarmored Funk, with no visible weapons – looked at it, make a motion that reminded her of a shrug, and pushed a button. Oddly, she realised as the forcefield flickered out of existence, the guard was female. It was rare to see Funk women in menial jobs, unless they were being punished. Of course, keeping one’s temper was essential on Center and a Funk male might have started a fight by now. Maybe it was a more important position than she’d realised.

  The Funk’s voice was almost atonal, save for a hissing sound that seemed to underlie her Galactic Three. “The Ambassador is eating,” she said. Galactic Three wasn't a particularly polite language, reducing messages to their bare essentials. The guard didn't mean to be rude. Probably. “She will see you after she has dined.”

  Shan smiled and pushed forward. “The Ambassador will see me now,” she said. She took a breath, puffing out her chest. The Funks didn't take males seriously, but if they recognised that she was female… of course, all humans looked alike to them, just as many humans had difficulties telling the difference between different Funks. “This matter is too important to be left to wait.”

  There was one thing about the Funks that reminded her of her old tutor’s comment about the Russians. They saw the universe in terms of superiors and inferiors. Convince them that you were superior and they would genuflect and obey; fail to convince them and they would happily take advantage of you. But it was often harder than it sounded. The guard would have had her orders from a known superior and might not break them for another, particularly a human.

  The Funk bowed her head, slowly. “I will escort you to the Ambassador,” she said. “Your guards may wait outside.”

  “Of course,” Shan said, coolly. The thought of not having her bodyguards was terrifying, but she knew better than to let them see it. Besides, four guards might not be able to get her out safely if the Funks went against thousands of years of tradition and murdered an Ambassador in their own Embassy. That would seriously annoy all of their neighbours. “Lead the way.”

  The guard scurried ahead of her as Shan strode into the Embassy as if she owned the place, passing through a security scanner that informed her hosts that she carried nothing more dangerous than a datapad, a single datachip and a secure terminal. Not that that would reassure them. There might be a general consensus that murdering Ambassadors was not civilised, but there was no law against spying – and plenty of ways to carry surveillance tools into a secure building. She could be carrying a handful of nanotech bugs with her, or something even smaller. But they had to see her. She was Earth’s Ambassador.

  She’d never visited the Funk Embassy before and part of her was curious. The interior of the building smelt faintly of rotting meat, reminding her that the Funks liked to eat their meals raw. Rumour had it that they dined on alien flesh in a perverse form of cannibalism, although she doubted that that was true. Humanity had been quite prepared to believe the worst of them after they’d taken Terra Nova and stories of them devouring human children had spread widely. Who knew? Maybe they would convince one of the other Galactics to intervene.

  In the dim light, she could make out the plain stone walls, decorated by remarkably fine carved letters. Like humanity, the
Funks had kept their own languages after learning the various Galactic tongues, but they’d never had a written language until they’d adapted one from the Association. Reading it was tricky; some words were comprehensible, probably taken straight from Galactic Three, others were new to her. The Association would have been wiser to note what the Funks had done and realise that absorbing and dominating was part of their nature. But the Cats had probably just seen it as another primitive race copying technology from their betters.

  A handful of other Funks glanced at her as they passed her in the corridor. Most were female, but a couple of males hissed at her when they saw her. They’d probably smelled her first – their noses were sharper than human noses – and recognised that she was alien. Her escort eyed the males until they were gone, almost as if she’d expected them to lose control and attack Shan. It would have been disastrous if they had, even if Shan survived without serious injury. The Hegemony’s reputation would have taken a terrible blow.

  The Funk Ambassador was seated at a table that had been hastily cleared of raw animal flesh and the jugs of strong wine the Funks brewed and sold to the rest of the galaxy. Meeting her in the dining hall was a subtle insult, which she pretended to ignore. She had demanded an immediate meeting, after all, and could hardly complain when they pretended to take her at her word. The Ambassador was older than the average Funk, almost certainly – although it was hard to tell – a close relative of the Empress. Nepotism was how the Funks operated, which had the added bonus that anyone without family loyalty wouldn't be able to rise to a senior position they could use to mount a coup. The pendent around her neck glowed as it recognised the presence of Shan’s pendant. No-one else would be able to wear it until they received accreditation in their own right.

  “Great Lady,” Shan said, with a slight bow. Galactic protocol could be very complex at times, with hundreds of different races adding their own spin on events. “I thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “I thank you for visiting,” Great Lady Vanla said. It was always difficult to read emotions behind alien words, but Shan was sure that she was lying through her sharp teeth. The Great Lady hadn't missed any opportunities to remind humanity of its lowly place in the galaxy, or to intimidate or bribe potential allies into staying away from Earth. “I am sure that your urgent request represents an urgent matter.”

  Shan took a breath. “Over the past ten years, ever since our races first encountered each other, your race has pushed us hard,” she said. Part of her had wanted to simply deliver the declaration of war and get out, but her terminal was recording the entire meeting. It would be necessary to show it to the other Galactics when humanity started looking for allies… assuming that the war went as planned. She couldn't remember if any war had ever gone according to plan, but she doubted one had. “You have demanded concession after concession from us, impeded our efforts to move into the wider galaxy and taken a whole population of humans captive. Now you are attempting to claim our worlds, to end our independence. We can no longer tolerate your dishonourable interference in our affairs.”

  The Great Lady cocked her head slightly, a Funk smile. “The world you call Terra Nova was transferred to us legally, from the race that originally claimed it,” she said, with some clear amusement. “The fact that a number of… squatters landed on the world, without permission from the owners, is of no consequence to us. We were happy to invite them to join the Hegemony, with the same rights and duties as any other client race.”

  And those rights were very thin on the ground, Shan knew. The Association’s founders had patronised the younger races for years, but they hadn’t acted out of malice. But the Funks believed themselves superior to everyone who couldn't stand up for themselves. Humans would never be anything more than second-class citizens under their rule, denied even the hope of freedom.

  The hell of it was that they did have a point, under Galactic law. Terra Nova had been claimed by the Association, although the Cats had never raised any objection to humans settling on the planet – or, for that matter, the countless other worlds in similar positions. But the Cats had never given up the settlement rights to humanity, and when the Association had convinced them to sign the rights over to the Hegemony, it had all been perfectly legal. It just hadn't been particularly ethical. Who would have thought that, among all the races humanity would encounter, there would be hundreds of fanatical lawyers?

  But human visions of the universe outside Earth’s atmosphere had always been limited. Aliens had been depicted as unified cultures, either benevolent federations who would give humanity the keys to the stars or implacably hostile empires that would destroy humanity if humanity didn't destroy them first. But real aliens were people, even the ones so alien that holding a conversation was almost impossible. And in the snake pit the Association had accidentally created, the rules were more important than any concept of ethics, particularly human ethics. Might made right and the Hegemony simply had a bigger stick than Earth.

  “And our homeworld?” Shan asked, meeting the bright red eyes. How could anyone escape realising that the Funks were predators first and foremost? Just because they were matriarchal rather than patriarchal didn't make them any less determined to cling onto their own culture than any number of human tribes on Earth. “What claim do you have on Earth?”

  “The Association claimed your world as well,” the Great Lady said. “Why should we not seek settlement rights from them?”

  Several arguments rose in Shan’s mind, but she pushed them down. The Great Lady would either laugh at them, or regard them as proof of human weakness. And maybe she’d be right.

  “You have been attempting to prepare us for the kill,” Shan said, coldly. It had been clear ever since Terra Nova had been awarded to the Hegemony. They were gradually weakening and isolating Earth, before moving in to take the human race for slaves. It was a slow process, but what did the Funks have to fear from Earth? “We can no longer allow you to weaken us into insignificance.”

  She produced a standard datachip from her pocket and dropped it on the table. “While we enter this course of action reluctantly, regrettably” – a piece of fluff for the Galactics who would hear the recording, later – “we see no other choice, but to push you back as hard as we can. Earth is formally declaring war on the Hegemony. We will drive you out of our territory, liberate Terra Nova and prove that while you may have the law on your side, we have the determination.”

  For the first time, she saw the Great Lady surprised. Her jaw hung open, revealing teeth sharp enough to rend and tear at human flesh. Male Funks were supposed to be as strong as humans, perhaps stronger, but there was little data on how strong their females were, just speculation. The thought that the inferior would turn on the superior was outside their comprehension. Sun Tzu had known better, all those years ago. And yet she was closer in time to Master Sun than she was to the founders of the Association.

  “You are insane,” the Great Lady managed, finally. “The entire combined tonnage of Earth’s puny fleet is nothing compared to a single task force of our navy. You will be obliterated. Your worlds will become ours without the necessity of convincing the Association to give us settlement rights. You…”

  “Will not go down quietly,” Shan said. If nothing else, at least they would be taking action. “We will not let you take us down without a fight.”

  She bowed again, walked backwards to the door, and smiled. Her escort hadn't heard the discussion and merely escorted her out of the building, rather than trying to do anything to impede her departure. Shan allowed herself another smile as she stepped out into the bright sunlight and left the Embassy behind her. She couldn't escape the feeling that she’d barely escaped with her life.

  “Back home,” she said, shortly. Earth’s embassy was two kilometres away, on the outskirts of the floating city. Tradition demanded that everyone walk from place to place, except in life-threatening emergencies. “We have work to do.”

  And they did, she
reflected as they began the long walk. She had to get humanity’s side of the story out into the galactic news networks and begin using all of her contacts to start pressuring the other Galactics to support Earth. Galactic reporters would probably want to start setting out for the war zone, hoping to watch one fleet beating the other. The brushfire wars had been one thing, but an outright war launched by a minor power against a major power was something different. Once they got over their shock, the Hegemony would be doing the same. Convincing the other Galactics to support Earth might be just as important as actually winning battles in space and liberating Terra Nova.

  Now, all they needed was some victories to convince the Galactics that humanity wasn't about to be crushed. And that wouldn't be easy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fires were still burning throughout Gagarin City and the Funk settlement beyond as the shuttle swooped down towards Heinlein Spaceport. Most of the Funks had surrendered, but a handful of males – crazed with battle lust – had carried on the fight, forcing the Marines to hunt them down and take them out one by one. The human population had savagely turned on their former masters as soon as they realised that liberation was at hand, slaughtering dozens of Funks before the Marines could take them into custody. They’d also assaulted members of the Funk client races, creating potential problems for the future. Humanity needed allies among the enemy’s slaves.

  Heinlein Spaceport had expanded during the years the Funks had ruled Terra Nova, apparently one of the few installations to have seen any growth during their rule. They’d added prefabricated hangars, runways and a series of guard posts that prevented humans from entering or leaving the spaceport except under controlled conditions. It reminded Tobias of the bases the various militaries had established in what remained of the Middle East, the zones where the population could move in seconds from friendly compliance to fanatic hostility. No one could be permitted to enter without supervision, for fear of suicide bombers or terrorist gunmen. The precautions created additional enemies for the troops, something that was regrettable, but unavoidable. No doubt the Funks had had the same problem.