A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Thank you for coming,” she said, once the last bug sweep had been carried out and everyone had taken a seat, along with a glass of water. “I apologise for the informality of these rooms, but right now we don’t have better living spaces for humans.”

  “There is no need to apologise,” Sam Schultz said. The American leaned forward, one hand stroking his flaming red beard. “We quite understand.”

  Joelle nodded in relief. Whatever else they’d done, every interstellar power that had expressed an interest in Vesy had sent a grown-up diplomat, rather than someone who would quite happily delay matters by raising issues with the tables, the food, the staff or anything apart from the issue in question. Such adult children had played a major role in delaying the second mission to Vesy, leading to the chaotic scene in orbit. But then, she reflected morbidly, it might be precisely what they’d wanted all along.

  She took a moment to survey the table. The Americans and French were allies, although the Americans had an election campaign underway and the French tended to look for their own advantage, first and foremost. Every other interstellar power did the same, of course, but the French were refreshingly honest about it. The Indian representative, a dark-skinned woman wearing a pair of white trousers and a tight shirt, might be an opponent, if handled badly; beside her, the Turks and Chinese both looked inscrutable. Joelle had a feeling the Turks and Indians had conferred previously - British Intelligence was sure that the two minor powers had been quietly collaborating for years - while the Chinese could jump either way. And who knew just what the Brazilians, Germans and Japanese had in mind? They’d only sent a single warship apiece.

  “I will come right to the point,” she said, mentally throwing the standard diplomatic rulebook out of the airlock. “There’s no point in trying to quarantine Vesy, not any longer. Quite apart from the damage the Russians caused, by introducing gunpowder to alien warfare, our own people will not let us. I have in my hand” - she held up a datapad, waving it in front of them - “a series of requests from hundreds of private interests, ranging from charities to corporations that believe Vesy is an untapped paradise. It will be impossible to keep them from landing on the planet.”

  “Not least because you set up a base yourself, six months ago,” Louis Barouche pointed out, dryly. The French Ambassador smiled, rather coolly. “It would seem absurd for you to argue for quarantining Vesy now.”

  Translation; you want a share for yourself, Joelle thought.

  She kept her face impassive. As far as she could tell, Vesy had nothing to offer apart from raw knowledge, but knowledge could be quite useful when an enterprising company found a way to use it to make money. It wasn't as if there was any point in strip-mining the entire planet. What could the planet offer that couldn't be extracted, without so many ethical, legal and practical barriers, from the asteroids drifting in orbit around the star?

  “We need to devise a framework for handling such requests in the future, one we can all support,” she continued. “The current situation is unsustainable.”

  “My government’s position is that the Vesy, and the Vesy alone, are masters of their world,” Rani Begum said. “While we recognise that Russia was the first human state to encounter the Vesy, we do not accept that gives them any claim to the planet or the star system. The Vesy got there first.”

  “Now hold on, wait a minute,” the American snapped. “The Russians in question were deserters, not representatives of the Russian Government!”

  Joelle winced. Something had happened between Russia and the other Great Powers, something bad, something that had practically led to Russia’s exclusion from the rest of the world. And yet, she had no idea what. Someone had kept the information so tightly restricted that nothing, not even a peep, had leaked out to the media. She hated to admit it, but that scared her. What could convince so many people, from so many different countries, to keep their mouths firmly closed?

  And, she thought, to hate the Russians at the same time?

  “The point is immaterial,” Barouche said. “We can all agree, I think, that none of us have a pressing claim to own the system.”

  “My government upholds that point,” Rani said.

  “My government would agree,” Joelle said. The public would probably not react well to any attempt to claim Vesy for Britain, not when it was already inhabited by a native non-human race. “However, the fact remains that the Vesy are simply incapable of preventing human factions from meddling on their world. Furthermore” - she held up a hand - “they are already badly contaminated. I do not believe we can prevent it from spreading all over their world.”

  “You make it sound as though they have caught a disease,” the American grumbled.

  “On the face of it, my government would not object to setting up a framework for contacting the Vesy,” Rani said. “However, we insist on maintaining our own contacts with the aliens.”

  “I would tend to agree,” Barouche said.

  “You mean you wish to gain influence over the system,” the German said. “You have already landed a considerable amount of supplies at your base.”

  “That is correct,” Rani said, simply. “How many of you” - her dark eyes swept the room - “really do not intend to gain influence over the aliens?”

  None of us, Joelle thought, ruefully. She’s right.

  “Then let us be careful what we introduce,” Barouche said. “They are simply not mature enough, as a society, to accept what we give them.”

  “They’re not children,” Schultz snapped. The American leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I believe we shouldn't be treating them as children.”

  “Tell me,” Barouche said. “How many of our problems last century came from giving advanced technology to people who were culturally unable to handle the implications?”

  Joelle had to smile. “It wasn't just the Middle East that had problems because of technology’s rapid advancement,” she pointed out. “The rest of the world had problems too.”

  “But everyone else was able to understand and embrace change,” the Frenchman countered. “The Middle East could not ... and eventually, when we found a way to live without them, we cut them out of the global network.”

  “That’s an old argument,” Joelle said. She'd heard it before from Professor Nordstrom and Grace, who’d fought and refought it time and time again. “The problem here is that we are not dealing with humans.”

  “They test out as roughly equal to us,” Schultz said. “They’re not inherently less intelligent than ourselves.”

  “That doesn't mean they have the social experience to cope with new technology,” Barouche snapped. “You might as well give growth hormones to a baby and expect a mature adult at the end!”

  “I believe we are getting away from the point,” Rani said. Her cool voice cut through the air in a manner Joelle could only admire. “I assume there is a proposal in mind for a working framework?”

  Joelle nodded. “First, I believe we should place limits on what sort of weapons we supply to the Vesy,” she said. She glanced briefly at Rani. “It may be too late to keep from supplying some weapons to the locals, but we need to make sure they don’t present a threat to us. In particular, we would like to ban antiaircraft weapons, long-range missiles, tanks and other systems they do not know - yet - exist.”

  “They will,” Schultz pointed out. “I believe 3 Para has a number of LAVs.”

  Light Armoured Vehicles, Joelle translated, inwardly. They were thin-skinned, compared to heavy Wellington tanks, but by local standards they were effectively unstoppable. And he has a point.

  “It will be far easier to keep the arms race from getting out of control if we all agree not to sell tanks,” she said, instead. “And there is a certain risk inherent in providing weapons to forces that may not be entirely under our control. It could lead to a diplomatic nightmare.”

  She watched their faces as the implications sank in. Small arms could come from anywhere, everyone knew i
t. But heavier systems, even simple antiaircraft weapons, could be traced back to their producer. And who knew what would happen then, if one such system was used to shoot down a shuttle? The Indians could get the blame if one of the factions they backed shot down a British shuttle. It could lead to a major diplomatic crisis, perhaps even a war.

  “We will certainly consider the list of banned systems,” Rani said, finally.

  There were nods from around the table. They were experienced enough, after all, to understand the dangers in providing advanced weapons systems to unreliable aliens. Better to work together, at least to some extent, rather than cause a major headache for their superiors back home. Besides, it wouldn't really work against any of them.

  “Second, I believe there should be a flat ban on NGOs supplying weapons to the Vesy,” Joelle continued. “I also think there should be strict limits on what they can and cannot do on the surface. Trying to win Vesy converts to their religions might lead to real trouble.”

  “I don’t think the President would approve a ban on missionaries,” Schultz said. The American looked irked at the mere suggestion. “There is such a thing as religious freedom ...”

  “And what will you do,” Rani asked dryly, “if one of your missionaries gets killed and eaten by the locals, merely for daring to question their religion?”

  Joelle frowned. She knew little about the Vesy religions - the marines hadn't really had a chance to do any proper research - but she did know they worshipped multiple gods. It struck her, suddenly, that the Hindus might have an unfair advantage when it came to talking about religion to the aliens. They shared the concept of multiple gods.

  “Good question,” Schultz said. “I wish I had an answer.”

  “You will need one soon,” Rani said. She looked at Joelle. “I for one would agree to a ban on weapons, but not on anything else.”

  “Then we would need to agree to search ships as they approach Vesy,” Joelle said. She'd talked it through with Captain Naiser and Colonel Mortimer beforehand and they’d both agreed that the only way to make it work was to search any incoming ships ... which would only be possible if all of the powers agreed. “Inform any newcomers that weapons shipments will not be permitted and search the ships to make sure they’re complying?”

  There was a brief argument between several ambassadors. Joelle listened, understanding their concerns. No one would be particularly happy to allow any of the other powers to search their ships, not when no one really owned Vesy. But, on the other hand, they all agreed that the last thing they needed was independent groups and NGOs adding more weapons to the arms race. By the time they hammered out a rough agreement, Joelle felt tired, headachy and desperately in need of a bed.

  “The President may disagree,” Schultz said. “There are several groups that believe we should just give the Vesy everything, in hopes of putting them on the same level as ourselves. If that happens, the agreement will have to be cancelled.”

  “And corporations will be complaining loudly to their representatives, the ones they bribed,” the Chinese Ambassador sniped. “You might find yourself pushed into doing something actively harmful to American interests.”

  Joelle sighed, inwardly. The Chinese Government was a bizarre mix of fascism, communism and capitalism that made no sense to anyone outside China. In some ways, China was the most repressive state amongst the Great Powers ... while, at the same time, it was also the freest. What could one make of a nation that alternatively crushed protest ruthlessly and encouraged its population to take part in government? But then, it was hard to argue that Britain didn't have its own issues too. None of the states that survived the Age of Unrest were quite what they’d been before all hell broke loose.

  “It hardly matters, I suppose,” Schultz sniped back, “when the corporations and the government are practically the same thing.”

  “The NGOs can continue to work through Fort Knight, for the moment,” Joelle said. “It will be our pleasure to allow them to use the facilities.”

  “That raises a different issue,” Barouche said. “Who is in charge of security at Fort Knight?”

  “Us, for the moment,” Joelle said. It wasn't a point she could budge on, not really. “Should you wish to land troops of your own, we can consider sharing command. Until then, we will remain in control of the outer layers of security.”

  The Frenchman nodded, but didn't argue further. Joelle suspected that his government was planning to set up its own base as quickly as possible, even though they hadn’t sent more than a warship and a freighter to Vesy. They’d be more interested in laying the groundwork for crafting long-term influence on the planet than securing Fort Knight.

  But we may have to make concessions later, she thought. Not all NGOs will want to operate through Fort Knight when other nations have their own bases.

  “This leads to yet another issue,” Schultz said. “Who takes action when our people come under threat?”

  “The Indian Government has authorised General Patel to take whatever steps he deems necessary to handle any threats to Indian property or personnel,” Rani said, quickly. “It will be our pleasure to extend that protection to other nationalities as well, should they wish it.”

  “And what,” Schultz asked, “will you want in exchange?”

  Joelle cursed under her breath. “3 Para will attempt to rescue anyone who gets into trouble,” she said, after a moment to gather herself. “However, our forces are very limited.”

  “I believe my government is reluctant to assign ground forces,” Barouche said. “But the marines on our ships will be happy to assist, if necessary.”

  Problematic, Joelle thought. Mortimer had pointed out that it might take far too long to get forces from orbit down to the ground, leaving them dependent on 3 Para. What happens if we wind up dealing with multiple threats at the same time?

  Rani cleared her throat. “I believe we should not allow the Vesy to get the impression they can hurt humans at will,” she said. “If humans come under attack and we can respond, we will. There will be no price for this service.”

  And if you believe that, Joelle added silently, I have a lovely palace in the centre of London to sell you.

  She scowled as the argument raged backwards and forwards. The Indians might not demand a price, up front, for saving people at risk, but there would definitely be a cost. Perhaps they’d demand political support, later on, or perhaps ... she shrugged. There were too many possibilities, none of them good. She would need to talk privately to some of the other ambassadors and plan out a response.

  “We have at least a working framework,” she said, when the argument finally died away. “It will need to be tested, of course, when the next wave of NGOs appear, but we can work on it.”

  “Of course,” Schultz said. “But again, it will need to be confirmed by my government.”

  Joelle nodded, then watched as the other ambassadors rose to their feet and headed out the door. Some of them would take shuttles back to orbit, others would stay at Fort Knight and continue their attempts to make contact with various alien factions. Judging by some of the shuttle flights they’d tracked from orbit, all of the nations were making their own bids for influence.

  And how long will it be, she asked herself silently, before they start landing all over the planet?

  She sighed, then rose herself. A shower, even a weak one, seemed an excellent idea, after which she could write up a report for the Prime Minister and then climb into bed. And then ...

  See what tomorrow brings, she thought. It’s a whole new world out here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Do we really have to walk to the city?”

  “I think we do,” Penny said, ruthlessly pushing down the impulse to slap Grace Scott as hard as she could. “There aren't any roads or railways out here.”

  She glowered at the older woman, then kept walking down the muddy path towards the alien city. Sweat trickled down her back, leaving her feeling hot and sticky; her limbs a
ched, despite all the marching she’d done when she’d been pushed into joining the Combined Cadet Corps. But then, she hadn't really done much work since the refugee camp, even as a young reporter. And there was nowhere in Britain as hot as Vesy.

  Percy must be having a hard time, she thought, as she looked at the marines. It was impossible to separate Percy from the other soldiers, not when they were all wearing the same armour, helmets and jungle camouflage. They had to be sweating even worse than herself, she was sure, but none of them complained. Listening to her is quite bad enough.