Loco turned to Straker. “Right up your alley, boss. Put on your Bravo Boy costume and fight for Truth, Justice and the Hundred Worlds. Er, the Republic. Oh, shit, we can’t even use that one anymore.” He mimed wiping away tears.
Jilani glanced around. “Is he like this all the time?”
Engels took a deep breath and let it out in a theatrical sigh. “He grows on you.”
“Like a fungus,” Zaxby added.
Straker stepped forward to command attention. “Captain Jilani, please tell us more about these Eprem. You said, ‘no lying, be truthful.’ Got it. What if I simply make a mistake?”
“They’re not morons, General. No spacefaring race is. They know the difference between lies and mistakes. I’ve found the best way to deal with them is to imagine you’re a witness under oath in a courtroom, in front of a judge and jury with absolutely no sense of humor. Don’t joke, stick to the facts, and always honor the letter of the agreement.”
Straker cocked his head. “What about its spirit?”
Jilani smiled faintly. “That’s something to watch out for. They’re not a bunch of devils bargaining for your souls, but it pays to read the fine print. Make sure you have a good lawyer before you sign anything.”
“We may not have much choice other than to deal with them,” Straker said. “Not if it’s going to take weeks or months to get certified for trade by Crossroads. We’ve been nearly two months in space, our civilians are getting restless, and we’re running low on supplies. Let’s see what these Eprem want from us—and what they’re willing to pay.”
* * *
Two hours later, Straker watched as the Eprem delegation of six landed their shuttle on the Independence’s primary flight deck and disembarked. They wore collars covering their gills, with mechanisms that helped them breathe in the air, and which also translated their gurgling speech into passable Earthan.
At Captain Jilani’s suggestion, flight deck operations had been shut down. A conference table was set up in sight of the Eprem shuttle, along with a suite of displays which Indy controlled. Along one long side, five Eprem sat like dogs with their hindquarters on pads on the deck. The two on each side of the center creature placed small devices on the table in front of themselves—their version of handtabs, perhaps.
The sixth Eprem stood with its back to its fellow in the center, facing away from the table, as if guarding. Jilani had said this was a traditional pose, something to do with their beliefs.
Straker sat opposite, with Engels and Jilani flanking him. Zaxby and Colonel Keller rounded out the mix, and Sergeant Steiner stood in the same position as the sixth Eprem took—behind Straker, back to back.
Loco had been miffed at being left out, but Straker supported Engels’ insistence Loco was the wrong guy for this kind of initial negotiation, and had ordered him to make the rounds of the troops. One smartass remark might screw everything up.
After Straker introduced himself alone—according to local custom, each side would address the other through only one negotiator—his opposite number spoke.
“I am Commodore Wardel, commanding our flotilla. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, and would like to conduct trade. Is this agreeable?”
“It is.” Straker had resolved to keep everything he said simple, straightforward and truthful, no matter what.
“I understand you offer military services. Is this correct?”
“It is.”
“We are in the market for military services.”
“Excellent.”
“What are your capabilities?”
Straker turned his head to the side to indicate he wasn’t speaking to Wardel. “Indy.”
Simplified graphics appeared on the screens nearby, and the Eprem’s heads moved slightly as they adjusted, but not as much as humans would have. Apparently, though the Eprem had binocular vision, they were perfectly comfortable using only one of their widely spaced eyes to look at a screen—or perhaps they could look at two screens, one with each eye, and still comprehend.
“We have the seven warships you see, as well as transports,” Straker said. “We also have approximately six thousand ground troops available for hire, with another fourteen thousand in reserve if needed. They’re equipped with the numbers and types of military vehicles and weaponry you see here.” He gestured at the holoscreens.
Wardel examined the screens for long moments while his fellows waved six-fingered hands over their machines, evidently inputting data. Straker had no problem with that. As long as they didn’t try to hack into Breaker systems, the Eprem could have all the information they could gather.
Straker’s counterpart then conferred with the other Eprem, in their own language. Indy would be listening with directional microphones, ready to translate and warn Straker of anything he needed to know.
“Your mercenary force is acceptable to our preliminary assessment. It is optimized for dry land and atmospheric operations?”
“Yes.” Straker pondered. “As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to amphibious or aquatic operations. I see you have an aquatic, nonhuman associate with you.” Wardel indicated Zaxby, sitting in his water suit, subtentacles patiently interlaced. “What is its role?”
“This is Zaxby, a Ruxin. Ruxins are allies who have chosen to join my military organization.”
“It is under your command?”
“He is.”
“We must be clear, General Straker. If we contract for your services, you are responsible for everyone under your command, and for fulfilling the contract. We are looking for a dry-land force to conduct military operations against a dry-land enemy, an enemy we as a primarily aquatic species find difficult to attack. In contrast, we do not need, nor do we wish to see deployed, aquatic forces, whether human or Ruxin. Any such deployment would constitute a potential threat to our control of the aquatic environment of the world in question.”
“You’re worried the Ruxins would want your territory?”
“Our territory is highly desirable.”
Straker folded his hands. “But it’s you that are attacking your dry-land enemies? Why?”
Wardel’s eyes flickered as nictitating membranes blinked. “Do you need a reason beyond compensation in order to fight on our behalf?”
“No, but I need to be sure I have no reason not to fight on your behalf. I’m not going to do something against my own principles. What’s this fight about?”
“I find it odd that a mercenary force would be concerned about the background of our quarrel...”
“I want to make sure our moral beliefs aren’t violated in doing so.”
“You have religious beliefs?”
Straker wondered about the accuracy of the translation, because it was being provided by the Eprem machines. He couldn’t assume every nuance was correct. He’d have to tread carefully here, at least until he learned more about these people and how they thought. “Individuals among us hold various religious beliefs, or none at all. The Breakers as an organization have a moral and ethical philosophy rather than a religious belief system. We won’t sign a contract or join a fight that violates our philosophy. If this doesn’t make sense to you, we may need to work on improving our mutual ability to clearly communicate subtle concepts.”
The Eprem discussed this pronouncement for almost five minutes while Straker waited patiently. They probably believed their words in their own language were private, but they weren’t, as Indy was recording everything and was already making progress on a complete translation database.
Straker could’ve held his own discussion with his staff, but for the same reason, he didn’t want to give anything away by speaking in front of the Eprem.
Wardel eventually spoke. “We understand. Your ways are different from ours. It is necessary for us to work with atheists and those of unsettled beliefs. I myself have dealt with many species and so have a broader view than most of my people, but you must understand. The common, ordinary Eprems might be quite distressed to
hear there are atheists among you. They might equate atheism with lying, which you probably know is the greatest sin. I suggest that this deficiency in your character not be mentioned in future interactions between the Breakers and the Eprem.”
Engels whispered in Straker’s ear, and he repeated her concern to Wardel. “You do understand humans aren’t as monolithic and unified as the Eprem, right? I speak only for the Breakers. What other humans do or say does not reflect on us, or vice-versa. If other humans lie, I’m not responsible.”
“We comprehend. Most species, unlike the virtuous Eprem, squabble amongst themselves. We understand this. This difference is one of the ways our culture is superior to others. We regret any offense in stating this viewpoint, but it is the truth.”
Straker didn’t bother to argue. At least these people were honest in their arrogance. “Fine. Back to who and why you’re fighting. Please explain.”
Wardel gestured to one of his team, and a hologram appeared above the table, projected from one of the portable machines. It showed a creature with thick, rhinoceros-like skin folded into overlapping flexible plates. It had six limbs like the Eprem, and also walked like a centaur, with four legs on the ground and two arms with hands up in front. Its face was wide and forward-facing like a rhino, though with no horn, and large upstanding ears that made Straker think of a donkey.
“This is our enemy, the Teprem.”
“Eprem and Teprem. That’ll get confusing,” Straker said. “Let’s call these guys Rhinos, and we’ll call you Salamanders, if you don’t mind. No offense meant.”
“None taken. We will adjust our translators.” Wardel paused while one of his assistants manipulated a device. “Adjustment completed.”
“Go on.”
“The Rhinos are dry-land dwelling. We shared our world without difficulty with them from pre-history onward, until approximately sixty years ago. About that time the Rhinos developed a life-lengthening genetic technique, delivered by a retrovirus.”
“A biological technology; a biotech, in other words?” Straker offered.
Wardel blinked one eye, then the other. “Yes. Under political pressure from their idiotic lower classes, they recklessly provided it to their population before it was thoroughly tested. It had unintended side effects, including radically increased fertility, sex drive, and extreme aggression in their males. These characteristics were permanent, and passed on to offspring. In two generations, their population increased more than twelve-fold.”
“Can’t they reverse the genetic change?”
“They might, but they won’t. The change itself makes them more aggressive and unwilling to see reason—a closed circle of cause and effect.”
Straker nodded, seeing the implications. “And they started intruding on your living space.”
“Yes. Once, we shared the coastal wetlands in peace. We need those wetlands for breeding. Our young are amphibious before they mature and become fully aquatic. Since the introduction of their biotech, the Rhinos have drained many wetlands and are using them to grow crops for cheap food. We were forced to build artificial wetlands on far islands at great expense to raise young safely, but this is insufficient even to maintain our population at a stable level. Even worse, a new leader has arisen among the Rhinos, one who has vowed to kill us all. He claims we are the aggressors because we want our wetlands back. He’s ordered the development of chemical weapons to poison the oceans and do away with us once and for all.” Wardel’s face seemed to plead, even as his translated voice remained even. “We beg you, help us win this war—or at least to end it.”
Chapter 9
Straker aboard Independence, in flatspace, edge of the Crossroads system
Straker drummed his fingers on the conference table as he thought over the Salamander negotiator Wardel’s plea to help win their war against the Rhinos—or perhaps he should say the Rhinos’ war against them.
It seemed like the same old story—some strongman—strong-rhino?—encroaching on the possessions of others, taking and taking until the victim was pushed into defending themselves—and then, claiming the victim was the aggressor. What was that technique called? Passive-aggressive? Yeah, that was it. Provoke someone with an ever-rising number of small violations until they fought back, then blame the victim.
He gave Engels, Jilani, Zaxby and Keller each a chance to provide input, and he scribbled down their concerns with a stylus on his old, battered handtab before speaking—but in his heart of hearts, he’d already decided to help… assuming everything was as it seemed.
“What about nuclear weapons? Does either side have them?”
Wardel seemed to shudder. “Yes. They have many—hundreds, we believe. We have fewer than fifty, only for defensive purposes—to stop them from using theirs, we hope.”
“Mutually assured destruction, my ancestors called it.”
“Quite. Until recently, we lived in peace. Now that the Rhinos are contemplating genocide, they rightly believe Salamander-specific poison serves them better. A nuclear exchange will hurt their cities worse than our aquatic populations.”
“We could threaten them with our own nuclear weapons—or simple gravity bombardment. Drop a few asteroids on their cities.” Straker ignored Engels’s fingernails digging into his arm. He wasn’t seriously contemplating wholesale attacks on civilian creatures he didn’t even know, but he wanted to see how the Salamanders would react.
“You would do this?”
Straker almost answered affirmatively, until Jilani kicked him under the table and glared. Belatedly, he recognized the trap—it would be a lie to confirm he would, which might torpedo the negotiations as soon as the Salamanders discovered it. Or, it would force him to follow through, if viewed as a promise.
So, he chose his words carefully. “We might threaten. We might strike military targets… but no, I can’t envision a scenario where we’d wipe out whole cities. I imagine if that were your intent, you could use your own ships to do it yourself. Unless the Rhinos have driven you out of planetary space?”
Wardel seemed to relax. “Your guess is correct. These six ships of ours are the only military force we have in space. Our trading vessels have scattered. The Rhinos seized all orbital facilities and hold the skies above our world, and are building more warships. We must purchase help, or our race is doomed. Our remnant would wander space without a home.”
“We know how you feel,” Engels said to Wardel suddenly.
Wardel turned his head like a turret to stare at Engels. “Your aide breaks protocol. Does she speak for you, General Straker?”
“She’s my mate and my second-in-command, so her words carry weight… but I’m in charge. Is that clear enough?”
“It is. However, her statement sounds very close to a lie, and this we cannot abide.”
Engels opened her mouth to protest when Jilani leaned back and hissed at her across Straker’s back. “You can’t possibly know how another race feels, so technically, that’s a lie. Alien minds are weird. Think before you speak!”
Engels nodded and sat back, silent and brooding.
“So we’ll have to fight our way in and seize orbital space,” Straker said. “Is our force enough?”
“We assess our combined forces have about a ninety percent advantage in combat power. We also assume you have unknown proprietary technology which is likely to increase that advantage. Do you?”
Straker tried to see the Breakers from the Salamanders’ point of view. What tech would the aliens not have detected? “I believe we have more capability than you know,” he replied after a moment. He was starting to get the hang of this not-lying thing. Qualify everything like a lawyer, and always have an out.
“So,” he continued, “We seize orbital space. Then what? How can one brigade of ground troops, or even a division, help win your war? The conflict must be huge at this point, involving at least one whole continent on your world, and populations of billions, right?”
“Billions? No. Salamanders number abo
ut 100 million. Until recently, the Rhinos numbered fewer than that. Now, however, they have grown to over 900 million. According to our projections, within twenty years they will likely number seven billion. Within a generation after that, they will overrun our small planet and either fall into savagery or spread outward to other worlds, carrying their aggression with them.”
Straker flexed his regenerated hand. It still looked younger than the other, lacking the scars of experience. “You haven’t really answered my question. We can probably take the orbital high ground for you, but what then? Other than bombing the Rhinos back the stone age, how can we fight almost a billion enemies? If even one percent of them are military, we’re facing nine million troops. Do you have enough soldiers to fight that many?”
Wardel seemed to consider before answering. “Holding orbital space will be a victory in itself. Afterward, we don’t expect you to win the war on your own, but you are dry-land creatures. You can operate where we cannot. We have certain specific missions for you to undertake, and we’re willing to negotiate payment accordingly.”
“What we really need is—”
Jilani kicked Straker lightly under the table again, causing him to pause.
She leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Don’t negotiate the terms yet, or you end up promising something you don’t intend. This is just an initial session. Tell him you agree in principle to provide military services, subject to the specifics to be negotiated over the next few days. Tell him nothing is binding until it’s in writing and signed by both parties.”
Straker repeated these conditions aloud, and Wardel agreed. “We will retire to our shuttle for two hours for prayer and discussion, and to rest. Your dry environment is stressful to us. During this time, we will open a datalink port and exchange detailed information, if you are agreeable. We will then return to the table for further negotiations.”
Straker's Breakers Page 9