“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She sighed at the transporter. “I still hate these things.”
Morgan laughed as Gillian stepped onto the transporter and disappeared. Mary met her at the transporter on Llanelyn several jumps later and relayed the events of the past few days. Gillian relayed the meeting and the possible events to come as they walked home.
The next morning, Angel and Nik slept late, waking to find only Mischka there. Happy to step out of her forced leader role into a routine task, Angel fixed them a quick breakfast as Mischka scanned the news.
“Please tell me that we are not just going to sit here and wait for something to happen?” she asked.
“You do not wish to relax,” her grandfather teased her.
“No. I haven’t been to Earth in years. I want to get out and see what has changed.”
Mischka chuckled. “So like your grandmadret you are. When your aunt returns from work in a few arns, she wants to take you shopping. So enjoy the time. Once the news breaks, you may not be able to move about so freely.”
Nik volunteered to go with them and Mischka nodded, a current of understanding passing between the men. Nik was expected to keep Angel safe at all times.
Joel called Jason’s home vidphone later that evening. He switched to an encrypted channel before relaying the day’s events. “The capital is definitely buzzing now. The plan is working better than expected.”
“Which part?”
“Depends on who you ask. I’ve only given parts of the info to each person and as they compare notes and try to piece together what I’m not telling them, the story grows. It’s actually funny to watch. Expect the meeting you wanted the day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll let Gillian know so that she can be ready.”
The next day passed quickly for everyone. Joel continued with his plan. Jason and Mischka watched the news media for the snatches of speculation that were flowing. Morgan, Angel, and Nik went shopping. Gillian read everything that the translator, Doug, had worked on so far.
Joel called that evening with another update. Jason conferenced in Gillian to hear the news on the encrypted channel. “Be at the capitol building by 8am tomorrow. It may take time to get you cleared and into the conference room, though I already entered the meeting into the security computer system. The first meeting is scheduled for 9am. Provided that goes as expected, the meeting you requested will occur tomorrow afternoon. I cannot provide a more accurate time.”
The next morning came early for them all. After a quick protein synthesized meal, they headed to the transporter. They transported to the capitol building for Earth Gov, where they were questioned by security before being allow into the corridor that led to the wing for the Secretary of Defense. Joel met them outside the entrance to the wing, easing their way past the next security checkpoint. His full dress uniform was crisply pressed, the emblems and medals gleaming impressively in the morning light, the five-star rank on his collar precisely aligned.
“The Parrhesian Delegation is already here. My assistant met them earlier,” he said as he led them through a maze of hallways. Once inside the antechamber to the Secretary’s office suite, they met the Parrhesian Delegation. Jason quickly introduced everyone, finishing as the Secretary of Defense’s assistant arrived.
“Come this way.” The assistant showed everyone into the SecDef’s briefing room. A long mahogany wood table surrounded by comfortable looking black leather chairs dominated the center of the room. Luminescent pictures hung around the room depicting everything from Earth history to lush green landscapes to motivational phrases. Occasionally the pictures would fade into a new image.
Once the door had closed, the assistant turned to Joel. “General Peterson, what is all this about? Who are all these people?”
Unbothered by the assistant’s behavior, Joel calmly replied, “Once the Secretary gets here, I’ll explain.”
“You can explain it to me and if I think it is worthy, I’ll let the Secretary know you are here.”
Joel paused for a moment, then began advancing on the assistant, his demeanor and vocal tone a perfect replica of his formidable grandfather. “Go ahead and delay if you like, but I’m sure the Secretary will have words for you later and most likely your job. It’s your choice of course to delay a matter of utmost planetary security and create an interplanetary diplomatic scene. I’m sure the President will want to speak with you as well.”
The assistant’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice before he quietly excused himself.
As Joel turned back to the group, Jason commented, “You enjoyed that a little too much.”
“Granddad taught me well.”
Less than five minutes later, the assistant returned with the Secretary of Defense for Earth Gov. Phil Casey had enjoyed his political career, was considered the most influential Secretary of Defense in the past fifty years, and a charismatic leader. He understood the finesse of diplomacy as well as the results that only force could bring. His perfectly tailored long coat and crisply pressed white shirt and black pants engendered an air of confidence and superiority, right down to the red silk pocket blaze in the breast pocket of the coat.
As he entered the room, he quickly assessed each occupant from Joel’s calm acknowledgement, to the nervousness and fear in the other occupants. As he neared the head of the table, his assistant closed the door, stationing himself just inside the door as a sentry.
“General Peterson, would you care to explain why no less than six of my Under Secretaries told me just yesterday that I should ask you about a matter of urgent planetary security? And why four Secretaries asked if I knew about the war you wanted to start?”
“Would you like the long or short of it?”
“The short, if you would please.”
“What would you say if I told you that you are standing here with delegates from two of the Seven Lost Colonies?”
The Secretary sat down, glanced from Angel’s party to the Parrhesians, then back to Joel. “I’d say that you will need to tell me the long story. Please, everyone be seated.”
Joel hid his knowing grin. “Actually, sir, there is one person who could not be here in person and will need to be on the vidphone.”
The Secretary waved to the screen in the wall. “By all means.”
Joel setup an encrypted vidphone link to Gillian. “Now that we are all here, allow me to introduce everyone.” Joel went through the formal introductions with practiced ease, as everyone rose to shake hands. “Mr. Secretary, I’d like to present Chancellor Viktor Berenbaum, the Chancellor of Parrhesia and his attaché, Pieter. Chancellor, this is Earth Gov’s Secretary of Defense, Philip Casey.”
Phil Casey sized up the elderly man. Gray hair topped a portly body, but his firm handshake spoke of someone used to manual labor. His long, belted tunic and leggings were not made from materials found on Earth, the rough looking material soft to the touch. Wise, dark brown eyes and whiskered chin further indicated his years. His assistant was dressed similarly, though the gray eyes and clean-shaven face seemed out of place in the elegant briefing room. The assistant was too young and inexperienced to handle the politics that Phil knew would be thrust upon the two, should their claims be true.
Once the Parrhesians had shaken hands with the Secretary, Joel turned to Angel. “And Mr. Secretary, this is the Cerato of Llanelyn, Angelina Caylen, her grandfather, Elder Mischka Caylen, her grandmother Elder Gillian Caylen, and her bodyguard Nikolatai Landis. Cerato, the Secretary of Defense for Earth Gov.” Mischka shook hands with the Secretary while Angel kept her hands tucked in her sleeves. “No one outside her immediate family may touch the Cerato,” Mischka explained.
Phil assessed this party. The young girl looked fresh out of school, innocent and completely oblivious to the political struggles she surely faced as their leader. The older man emanated strength and a fighting spirit that reminded Phil of a friend. The older woman seemed the calmest of all those in attendance. The robes the trio wore were unusual an
d archaic. A single glance to the bodyguard confirmed the boy was as young as the girl, and almost as innocent, his short tunic and leggings not normal for someone in the security field.
“And our last attendee is Dr. Jason DeWitt, Professor of Medical Studies, University of Chicago.” The logo of the prestigious university stood out distinctly against the light gray blazer Jason wore.
Joel remained standing after Jason and the Secretary shook hands and everyone sat back down. “Mr. Secretary, what I said earlier is true. We have sufficient evidence to prove that Parrhesia and Llanelyn are two of the Seven Lost Colonies. The full information that we are about to tell you is known by no one outside this room on Earth. There are people who know small pieces, but not the full story, including your Under Secretaries.
“Over thirty years ago, my grandfather, General Peterson, met and aided Llanelyn. A treaty was signed between our two worlds at that time, an alliance treaty of non-aggression and non-interference.
“Have you heard of the Sleeping Sickness? It has been recently in the news for Parrhesia.”
At the Secretary’s nod, Joel continued. “Thirty years ago, the Sleeping Sickness affected Llanelyn. That is what caused my grandfather to bequeath to the University the unconditional use of the MF Mercy and led to the signing of the treaty.” He looked to Jason who nodded. “Dr. DeWitt will explain.”
Joel sat down and Jason stood up. “Gillian was the Cerato on Llanelyn at the time,” he said as he indicated the vidphone. “She is my sister-in-law and asked for my help with a medical problem. Long story short, my students, several other professors and doctors and Joel went to Llanelyn to discover a cure for the Sleeping Sickness. We were able to identify the cause and devise a cure. The university published my paper on the mission. Recently, when the same symptoms arose on Parrhesia, they found my old paper and contacted me. I was able to help them solve the problem.” Jason paused then hurried on before the Secretary could interrupt him. “Llanelyn’s problem had been caused by a naturally occurring pulse wave being emitted by a nearby star going super nova. However, the problem on Parrhesia is being caused by a pulse generator on a nearby planet, aimed directly at Parrhesia. The Parrhesian’s neighbor, the Drotz, is the holder of the pulse generator and refuses to turn it off. The Sleeping Sickness affects the oldest and youngest first, putting them into a deep REM like sleep. As the pulse wave builds, the human body loses its capability to withstand the wave. From experience, humans in their thirties have the greatest ability to withstand the pulse.”
“So the wave only affects humans?”
“No sir. It does affect other species.”
“Then how….”
“I’m glad you asked.” At the Secretary’s nod, Jason continued. “As I mentioned, Gillian is my sister-in-law, born here on Earth in Chicago.” The Secretary glanced to Gillian who nodded. “She had only recently became the Cerato of Llanelyn. She had also only recently met Mischka. Being from different worlds, it did not surprise me when Mischka asked me to check genetic compatibility before they married. I thought the computers were wrong or missing an entry in their databases when they declared him human. Mischka was born on Llanelyn as were the past 900 years of his ancestors. I was so concerned that I had a colleague of mine compare samples by hand. The results were the same. We’ve already checked samples of DNA from the Parrhesians and, yes, they are human as well.”
“So you’re telling me that for thirty years you’ve known at least one of the Lost Seven existed?”
“No sir. For thirty years we’ve known an undocumented human colony existed. Only three weeks ago did the final puzzle piece fall into place. That part is Gillian’s tale.”
Everyone turned to the screen. “Mr. Secretary, I was born Gillian Anderson and worked for Earth Gov in the ports of Chicago for several years. I can give you my service number if needed.” When he waved that away, she continued. “When Dr. DeWitt first told Mischka and I about the DNA results we were shocked. The main question we all wanted answered was how that could have happened. I devoted my tenure as the Cerato to investigating the how. What I found in the libraries here confirmed some of what we knew.” She turned to indicate a small stack of books. “In the archives of the libraries here I found ancient books hand written in many languages, several that I could not recognize and some that I could. The librarians had archived the books because no one could read them. These books have never left this planet that I am aware of. Dr. DeWitt found a translator to come here and translate the books. While I could read the passages in English, he recognized others as ancient Spanish, German, French, Italian, and Gaelic.”
“Gaelic? That language has been dead for a thousand years.”
“Yes sir. I know. The passages describe in detail a growing colony of people. Except this one.” Gillian presented Bethanae’s diary. “This one was given to me three weeks ago. It is a family diary, handed down through the generations of her family as a treasured heirloom. The first few passages are written in Gaelic and speak of the murder of Captain Llane Lyn, of the colony ship he was to captain, of its subsequent departure and rechristening. Several passages in, the crew enters cryostasis and emerges 195 years later on a planet that has sufficient natural resources to sustain life. They name the planet Llanelyn after the captain and the first village after his wife, Analisse.” She nodded to Jason and he took back over.
“About three months ago, I finally found the original stories, ships manifests, and crew rosters of the Lost Seven. Captain Llane Lyn’s name stuck out. The diary confirmed what we suspected.”
The Secretary sat back in his chair. “And the Chancellor’s planet?”
“One of the other ships listed was The Parrhesia.” Jason sat down.
“So let me get this straight. For three weeks you’ve known that two of the Lost Seven existed, one of which has a thirty-year-old treaty with us and the other who is having neighbor problems?”
Everyone around the table nodded. Joel gave the last bit. “With one other minor tidbit. Both Parrhesia and Llanelyn are peace loving agricultural planets without weapons to defend themselves against an attack. The pulse wave being generated on Drotz aimed at Parrhesia is nothing short of a weapon, attacking from afar.”
“And they would like our protection?”
“Parrhesia would like Earth’s assistance in finding a diplomatic solution to their problem. However, with what we know of the Drotz, war is more likely. Mr. Secretary, I’ve been to both planets and I know their military capabilities are nil. Llanelyn does have a defense grid surrounding the planet to protect it, but even a concerted attack could bring that down. Without help, Parrhesia will fall, if it comes to war.” The Chancellor nodded grimly.
“So what would you have me do, General?”
“Actually, I figured that would have to be a Presidential decision.” He paused. “If the Drotz win, who’s to say that their weapon might not be turned on Earth or another colony? However, I believe everyone here agrees that there are only two positions for Earth Gov to take. Earth could sign a treaty with the Parrhesians and aid them with the Drotz, hopefully to a peaceful diplomatic solution. Or, everything we just discussed will need to be given to the press to gain popular support for a war to save the Parrhesians.”
“There is a third option – forget this whole conversation ever happened.”
“Which leads back to option two as we go public, only the popular support would become popular outcry to save a defenseless people, who are one of the Lost Seven.”
The Secretary steepled his fingers as he contemplated the options.
Gillian interrupted the charged silence. “If I may add something, both Llanelyn and Parrhesia are thriving, stable, agricultural societies. Option two thrusts both into the public’s eye and will cause the curious to visit. Llanelyn is a peaceful, moneyless society, but we have had thirty years to prepare for just such a situation. When word gets out that everything here is free, the planet could be overrun. We’ve taken steps to prevent that. Ho
wever, I doubt Parrhesia is ready for such an onslaught.”
The Chancellor spoke, his accent thick. “What she says is true. We are not. But I cannot sit by and do nothing while an aggressive people incapacitate and take over my planet.”
The Secretary clapped his hands on the table. “General, you are correct. This is a Presidential decision.” He turned to his gaping assistant. “Arrange for the President to have time to meet with us this afternoon.” He paused to look at his watch. “Better yet, clear her schedule for the afternoon. Oh, and arrange lunch to be delivered here.”
The assistant left hurriedly and the Secretary returned his attention to those at the table. “You will need to tell the President everything you just told me. Only she can commit Earth to a potential war situation.”
His assistant came back. “Mr. Secretary, there is a phone call you need to take out here.”
“Excuse me.” He stood and left the room.
“What now?” asked the Chancellor.
“We wait, then convince the President. I expected it to come to this.” Joel turned to the vidphone. “Gillian, do you want to stay or should we call you back? It could be a couple of hours.”
“Call me back. I’ll catnap until then.”
Outside the briefing room, the Secretary picked up the secure receiver, the outmoded wireline being the only secure line to the president. “Madame President, what can I do for you?”
“Phil, what is going on? Your assistant said this was an urgent matter of planetary security.”
“Yes ma’am. In a way it is. I just met with the diplomatic delegations of two planets. You need to hear what they have to say.”
“Are they threatening us?”
“No, Miranda. But this isn’t something we should discuss over a phone, even this one. You need to meet them, the sooner the better. Oh, and you might want to start the arrangements for a press conference for tomorrow.”
War of the Innocents Page 13