A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Oh, dear,” John said. He shook his head in amused disbelief. Colin and he had made a game out of having sex in odd places, but they’d never even considered doing it while being watched by a bunch of aliens. And the aliens might feel cheated if they did. “Did they try the Ivanova Defence?”

  “I believe they played it straight,” Joelle said, deadpan. “A male and female researcher volunteered - for science! The video has already been sealed.”

  “Good,” John said. “Someone is probably going to go down in history for that one.”

  “Probably,” Joelle said. She ran her hand through her hair. “But compared to everything else they’ve asked us, that one is relatively minor.”

  John had his doubts, but kept them to himself.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Penny was reluctant to admit it, but she was becoming bored.

  It wasn't something she would ever have told Percy - he would only have laughed at her, or told her not to upset Murphy - yet it was true. The Ambassador seemed to do nothing other than hold secret meetings with either the other ambassadors or the aliens, while she was running out of other important people to interview. She’d been able to record hundreds of interviews with other visitors to Vesy, but most of them had been unable to say much that was actually newsworthy. Indeed, the NGOs had expressed a great deal of self-congratulation while the missionaries had expressed their disbelief at certain alien practices.

  She scowled at the thought, then peered towards Great Thinker Kun, a missionary from the Eminent Rationalists, standing on a platform and addressing a group of aliens. Even calling him a missionary was a stretch - he’d insisted on being referred to as a Great Thinker in their brief interview - but Penny honestly found it hard to call him anything else. He clung to his idea of a rational universe, of one that bent to human will, as strongly as any of the religious visitors clung to their god. And he’d hit on her, as soon as the interview was over. Penny still got the giggles when she thought about the chat-up lines he’d tried to use.

  As if there was any universe where it would be rational and logical for me to have sex with him, she thought, dryly. I’d have to keep my eyes closed as I opened my legs.

  She smirked in droll amusement. Kun - she rather doubted that was his original name - was completely bald; he’d admitted, during the pre-interview talk, that he’d had his entire body permanently depilated. His eyes had been replaced by implants that allowed him to see better - or so he claimed - at the cost of pushing his face firmly into the uncanny valley. He looked alarmingly like a pre-space depiction of an alien; indeed, with the formfitting suit he wore, he looked more alien in some ways than either of the two actual alien races mankind had encountered. The Vesy didn't seem to find him strange or sinister, as far as she could tell, but they didn't seem very impressed either.

  And there isn't anything rational about sex either, she added in the privacy of her own mind. A rational woman would use an exowomb rather than carry a child for nine months, particularly if she doesn't want to develop feelings for the brat.

  “And I say to you, there is nothing that we cannot understand, given time,” Kun bellowed, in oddly-accented English. Penny had never been able to determine where he’d been born, although she had a feeling it was one of the asteroid settlements. They tended to be more accepting of rational and objectivist views of the universe. “Once, we knew nothing of what caused thunder and lightning and so we imagined the existence of gods. Now, we understand the process that causes the sky to flash and rain to fall from the clouds. There are no gods.”

  The aliens shifted, their beady eyes flickering with ... something. Penny had watched a dozen missionaries try to talk to the aliens, but none of them had ever outright denied the existence of the alien gods. She honestly wasn't sure if the aliens came to listen because they were curious or because they were ordered to attend, yet ... cold ice tingled down her back as she realised that Kun might have gotten them into trouble.

  “Once, we could not understand how to sail the seas in stormy weather,” Kun continued, although he had to know that the aliens wouldn't understand the reference. Their planet’s surface was eighty-five percent land, not water; their seas were tiny, the largest being smaller than Australia. “Now, we have solved the problem of sailing through even the strongest of storms, without prayers to gods to save us from their wrath. Once, we saw asteroid impacts as the wrath of the gods; now, we have starships that can intercept falling rocks before they hit the ground. There are no big men in the sky protecting us in exchange for prayers. Just a universe that is there for us to bend to our will.”

  Shit, Penny thought. It was hard to read the expressions on alien faces - she had an idea their faces were largely immobile save when they were trying to mimic human expressions - but they didn't seem pleased. Several aliens in purple robes were muttering angrily to the aliens surrounding them ... it took her a moment to recall that purple generally meant priest. Kun had insulted the alien religion - all of their religions - right in front of the aliens who were charged with upholding them. What has he done?

  She glanced at the Paras, who seemed equally unsure what to do. There was no overt threat, nothing they could respond to with force, yet they were aware that the situation was on the verge of turning nasty. One of them was yammering into a mouthpiece, clearly calling in and asking for orders; the others were grasping their weapons, ready to fight to defend themselves. Penny wished, suddenly, that Percy was there.

  No, you want him to live, she thought, as the first stone flew through the air and cracked hard against the alien building behind Kun. The alien who’d thrown it was either a rotten shot or was trying to scare Kun, rather than cause a mass slaughter. Shit ...

  “Get back, you fool,” she shouted, as several more stones flew at Kun. “Get back!”

  “This is irrational,” Kun shouted, using an amplifier to boost his words so they echoed over the square. “There are no gods and ...”

  He staggered backwards as a stone struck him in the chest, then fell off the edge of the platform and plummeted towards the ground, hitting it with a dull thud. The crowd stamped their feet, then moved forward as one of the Paras grabbed Kun, threw him over his shoulder and hastily moved backwards. The sound of chanting from the aliens was growing louder as they advanced forward, moving their feet in a complex dance. Penny’s mind grappled with the problem as she backed away herself, fighting down the urge to draw her pistol from her belt. The aliens could run faster, so why weren't they ...

  It's a ritual, she thought, suddenly. The aliens were picking up speed as their chant echoed over the city, a single repetitive sound that was repeated from every temple in the vicinity. They want to scare us as well as bless their gods.

  A new hail of stones flew towards the handful of humans. One struck a Para on the head, although he was wearing his helmet and it did no harm. Another nearly struck Penny as she turned and ran, two more smashing down around her feet as she passed the Paras, unsure if she should try to carry Kun or not. She knew she was nowhere near as strong as one of the soldiers, but they were the ones with the weapons to defend themselves. But then another crowd of angry aliens appeared, in front of them. They were trapped.

  “This way,” a Para snapped. He kicked open a door, then led the way into a large building and slammed the door closed. Inside, it was decorated in an ornate manner that reminded Penny of Admiral Fitzwilliam’s family home. Her adopted father’s family would probably have been impressed. “Get that door closed and barricaded!”

  “There’s nothing here to use as a barricade,” another Para said. It struck Penny, suddenly, that she’d never learned their names. “Get everyone through the next door.”

  Penny nodded, then followed two of the Paras into the next room. Behind her, she heard the sound of fists beating on the door and one of the Paras swearing in a manner that would have shocked Percy, if he’d heard it. Or maybe not, she reminded herself, as they ran through the second room. It was just as al
ien as the first, but the floor was made of earth rather than stone. She puzzled over it for a moment, then checked her recorder was still functioning, uploading everything to the growing planetary communications network. Whatever happened to her - and she had heard quite a few horror stories about reporters who had come to gristly ends - the story would get out.

  She heard a crashing sound from behind her, followed by gunfire. The Paras had strict orders not to open fire unless there no other choice, not when it could seriously upset the aliens. If they’d held fire earlier, despite the stones, they wouldn't have panicked now. The aliens had to be presenting an overwhelming threat. She heard screams torn from alien throats, then the sound of chanting grew louder, overwhelming the screams. It was almost hypnotic.

  A hand slapped her back, shocking her. “Get up the stairs,” the Para snapped. “Hurry.”

  Penny nodded, then obeyed. The stairwell felt oddly slippery as she ran up it, then stopped dead as she ran into another wooden door. She twisted the knob and practically fell into the next room as an explosion shook the building. There was another burst of firing behind her, then the remaining Paras ran up the stairs and slammed the door behind her.

  “Rigged up a Rupert Bear downstairs,” one of them snapped to the Para carrying Kun. “They’re a little more careful now.”

  “Let’s hope it lasts,” the other Para said. “Ammo check?”

  Penny tuned him out and looked around the strange chamber. It smelt weird to her, like the landscape in Britain after the tidal waves had washed over the country. Watery, moist ... and earthy, in a way she’d never smelled since a visit to a farm as a young girl. The floor was covered with a layer of dirt, while the walls were decorated with carvings of aliens holding hands and prancing around like idiots. It made no sense to her at all.

  “Hey,” a voice said. She almost jumped out of her skin. “Ammo check?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Ammo check,” the Para repeated. It seemed to have gone quiet downstairs. “How many clips do you have for your pistol?”

  “Three,” Penny said. She pulled it out of the holster and held it out to him. “Do you want it?”

  “Keep it,” the Para advised. “If they overwhelm us, make sure you use the last bullet for yourself.”

  Penny shivered. “Is it going to come to that?”

  “I don’t know,” the Para admitted. “We don’t have any way of looking outside, but ... it’s quite likely we’re trapped here until help arrives.”

  “Oh,” Penny said. “And what if help doesn't arrive?”

  “We die,” the Para said, simply. “Or we get taken for sacrifice, which is worse.”

  “Thank you,” Penny said. She swallowed, hard. The darkened chamber was getting to her, more than she cared to admit. It was the creepiest place she’d ever been in, even worse than picking her way through flood-damaged houses in the hopes of finding something to eat, or a place to hide from rioting gangs. “What’s your name?”

  “Hamish,” the Para said. He paused, then smiled. “Buy you a drink after this?”

  Penny surprised herself by laughing. “Maybe,” she said. “If we get out of here without losing everything ...”

  Another explosion shook the building. “That was the Rupert Bear,” the Para said, turning back to his comrades. The sound of chanting started to grow louder again. “They’re coming.”

  “Shit,” Penny said.

  ***

  “Captain,” Howard said, as John surfaced from an uncomfortable sleep. “We have a situation on the surface.”

  “Shit,” John muttered. He tossed the covers aside and stood, silently grateful he had a habit of sleeping in his underclothes. “What’s happening?”

  “A party - one of our parties - that visited City Seven has come under attack,” Howard said. “The Paras escorting them report that they’re currently trapped in an alien building and are requesting help as fast as possible.”

  John gritted his teeth as he sat down in front of the terminal and pulled up the map. City Seven - it had been deemed easier to number the cities, rather than rely on imprecise translations or transliterations of alien names - was a good seventy miles from Fort Knight, far enough from the base that few of the NGOs wanted to visit it without some form of motor transport. Getting there would be a pain unless they used the helicopters ...

  And we don’t really have a choice, he thought, grimly. Colonel Boone will probably see the same thing.

  “Contact Colonel Boone and tell him to proceed as he sees fit,” he ordered. Boone was the commander on the ground, even though John - as the Royal Navy’s senior officer - was in command of the overall mission. “And offer to provide fire support if necessary.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Howard said.

  “And then send a flash message to the Ambassador,” John added. It was unlikely she hadn't already been notified, but it wouldn't be the first time something slipped through the cracks in the system. “And send a duplicate to every other military formation in the system.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Howard said.

  John nodded, then rose and grabbed his uniform jacket. There was nothing he could do, unless Boone called for fire support, but he was damned if he was staying in his quarters when the shit was hitting the fan. Besides, it wasn't impossible that some other powers would have forces on alert, ready to intervene. Some fast talking might be necessary.

  Damn the Indians, he thought. We need a centralised ground command and we needed it yesterday.

  ***

  “Mail call,” Percy carolled, as he stepped into the makeshift barracks. “Get your mail here!”

  His section sat up with varying degrees of eagerness. It was a Royal Marine tradition that the senior officer distributed the mail when on detached service, if only to allow the officer a chance to gauge the morale of his men before they went back into action. Personally, Percy rather wished they’d stolen the American tradition of serving breakfast to the men on the day before deployment instead, but it wasn't something he could change.

  He dug into the bag and removed a handful of physical letters and parcels. There had been hundreds of electronic messages for them on Warspite, including a ‘Dear John’ letter that really should have been held back until the section returned to Earth, but there was nothing quite like receiving a real letter. He held out the first letter, made a show of being unable to read the recipient’s name on the top, then passed it to its owner and handed out the others.

  “Got two letters for you, Sergeant,” he said to Peerce. “They both look important.”

  “Dear Dan,” Peerce said, as he took the letters. “Your account is now overdrawn. Pay up or we will send Fred and George around to break your kneecaps.”

  “I hope not,” Percy said. He frowned; his crash-course in being an officer had included a sharp warning that he needed to set a good example to his men, including not getting into debt or purchasing something he didn't need. He’d never really thought about it, but he knew it could be a problem. “Is that likely?”

  Peerce shrugged. “One’s from my aunt,” he said, “and one from my brother-in-law. Never liked the bastard.”

  Percy allowed himself a moment of relief, then glanced at his letters. One was clearly from Penny, probably dating back to before the moment she’d been assigned to the mission as an embedded reporter, the second was from Admiral Fitzwilliam and the third was definitely from Canella, judging from the perfume. He opened it up and a small datachip dropped out, followed by a handwritten letter. Percy put the chip in his pocket for later viewing - he had a feeling he’d need privacy to see it - and then opened the letter. Canella chatted about nothing in particular, merely telling him that her boss had stopped harassing her after realising just who she was dating. Percy made a mental note to have a few words with the asshole when he returned to Edinburgh, then considered heading to the private booth. There was time, he was sure, to view the chip ...

  His bleeper buzzed, urgently.

 
; “Grab your gear,” he snapped, as half-read letters were hastily dropped into pockets or locked drawers. An urgent alert meant they might have to deploy anywhere on Vesy, given that they were supposed to be the QRF. Luckily, all they really needed to do was don their helmets and grab their rifles. “Move it!”

  His earpiece buzzed as he pulled his helmet over his head. “Lieutenant, there’s a small party trapped in City Seven,” Colonel Boone said. “We’re looking for a diplomatic solution now, but you may have to get them out. You are authorised to use the copters; I say again, you are authorised to use the copters.”

  Percy swore under his breath - ten men weren't much against an entire city - then double-timed it out of the barracks and over to the helipad. The two helicopters were already swinging their rotors, ready to leave as soon as the marines were onboard. Thankfully, they’d practiced deploying in a hurry; Peerce took four men to one helicopter, while Percy led the rest to the other. There shouldn't be any real threat to the aircraft, he’d been assured, but ...