Kaelyn shut off the television.
"Bullshit!" she said.
Lizzy looked out the window at the crowds below, at the streets of New York, at this planet she loved. In the distance, she could see Central Park and the palace that rose in its center. President Hale's palace.
"I survived the war on Bahay," Lizzy said. "Here is a new war. A war for Earth. I love this world with all my heart. I know that most Earthlings are good. I know that people like me, like you, like Jon and George and Etty—that we outnumber the Clays a hundred to one. I have to believe that. There is so much evil in human hearts. But I have to believe there is goodness too, that it's more powerful than evil, and that it's worth fighting for. We will keep fighting. Maybe we will lose. But we will never surrender."
Kaelyn clasped her hand. "We will never surrender."
Chapter Sixteen
Stranglehold
The helicopter rose from Little Earth, and Maria gazed out with wide eyes. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Her head spun. Yet she could not stop looking down. She had never flown before.
The general placed a hand on her knee. "Be careful, little one. Don't fall out."
She had been acting a lot around the general, feigning adoration, coyness, innocence. But now, flying above the city, her wonder was real.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
He laughed. Of course he did. He was a mighty general, and his empire commanded thousands of starships. He had flown across the galaxy, traveled through wormholes, walked on a thousand planets. Not only had Maria never left Bahay, she had never even left the ground.
As the helicopter rose higher, she could see the entire city. The buildings sprawled below like toys. She felt like she could reach out, pluck a few jeepneys, and play with them. This made even the view from her penthouse seem dull.
I can see millions of people like ants, she thought. To the generals of Earth, that's how we must seem. Just a big hive of ants, while they are swooping eagles.
Of course, some Bahayans had flown in spaceships too. Centuries ago, the Santelmo aliens had taken Filipino refugees into their starships, had ferried them here to this beautiful world, a planet of pristine islands orbiting a warm star. Here they had become Bahayans, a new nation of humanity many light-years from Earth. The Santelmos had never shared their technology. On their own, the Bahayans had discovered electricity, combustion engines, radio. Over three hundred years here, separated from the rest of humanity, they had advanced rapidly.
But not as rapidly as Earth.
The two groups—Earth and Bahay—had separated in 1898. And since then, Earth had moved much faster.
It was to be expected, of course. After all, Bahay had begun with just a few colonists from the war-torn Philippines, farmers and fishermen. For the first few generations, they had concerned themselves with farming, hunting, surviving in the jungles. Meanwhile, Earth's empires had roared forth.
By now, three hundred years later? Yes, Bahay had made progress. They had radios. Electricity. Cars. They had even begun to fly simple planes.
And then Earth had arrived here with a fleet of starships and tossed Bahay into the dark ages.
Now Maria gazed down upon her world from this flying Earth machine, and she wept for the lost beauty. As they rose higher and flew farther, she could see the wilderness beyond the city. The fields had withered, and the rainforests had burned. Her tears fell upon the ashy fields.
Yet past the haze, Maria saw one mountain that was still verdant, cloaked with lush rainforest. It rose above the coast like a green monk overlooking the water. As the helicopter flew closer, Maria saw a colossal statue of Christ upon the mountaintop, arms outstretched as if to embrace the ocean.
A grand villa clung to the mountainside, facing the ocean. The morning light bathed the mansion and its gardens. But Maria imagined that in the evening, Christ's shadow fell upon it.
She stared curiously. Flags of South Bahay fluttered in the villa's gardens—not flags of Earth. She saw no sign of Earth here at all. No Earth soldiers. No Earth tanks or armacars. And the villa itself was built in upper class Bahayan style—stucco walls, red-tiled roofs, rounded arches, terracotta ornaments, all hinting at the Spanish Colonial style of the Philippines.
A Bahayan lives here, Maria knew.
Indeed, when the helicopter landed on the lawn, a Bahayan man greeted them. He was about sixty years old, stocky, with a bright grin. He wore a white suit, a golden chain, and an unconvincing black toupee.
"General!" he said, arms opened wide. "Welcome, welcome!"
Maria recognized him. She had seen his face on television many times. Here stood Juan Santiago, president of South Bahay.
The general's puppet, Maria thought. That golden chain around his neck is a collar, same as the choker around mine.
The rotund president hugged the towering general. Ward was not a man of much emotion, and he seemed to barely tolerate the embrace.
"Good morning, Juan," the general said, awkwardly extricating himself from the embrace. "Are the weekly briefings ready?"
The president laughed. "Always business with you, Chuck! War briefings are so dull. Let us dine first! I've laid out a feast for you and your men. I hope you're all hungry!"
They had flown here in a large helicopter. Along with Maria, the general had brought several other people in his entourage: security guards, officers, and clerks. The others were all Earthlings, all male. Maria stood out, and the president noticed.
He approached her, took her hand in his, and kissed it. He switched to speaking Tagalog.
"Good morning, daughter of Bahay. You must be the fabled rose of the general. All in Bahay sing of your beauty, but the songs do you no justice."
"Thank you, sir, you flatter me. Though surely I'm less beautiful than your daughter, and I pray she finds a good husband soon."
The story had been all over the news. The president's daughter, her homely countenance widely mocked in the media, had been arranged to marry an Earth colonel, only for the officer to leave her at the altar.
The president stared into her eyes, still holding her hand, perhaps seeking some mockery. His grip tightened just the slightest. "We're not all so lucky in love. But you're most fortunate, rose of Bahay. The general is a powerful man."
She nodded. "And a kind master, as you know."
His eyes hardened for just a moment. And from the corner of her eye, Maria could swear she noticed the general stifling a smile.
Yes, I'm slinging some barbs his way, Maria thought. And I hope they sting.
She saw wealth here. A palace. Meticulous gardens. All paid for with Earth gold. She wondered how many refugees could live here.
They entered the villa, where they sat on a balcony overlooking the ocean. They dined on fried shrimp and ginger, succulent lechon pork, tangy pancit noodles, crunchy lumpia rolls, and fried plantains drizzled with honey. Actual Bahayan cuisine—the best Maria had ever tasted. Far superior to Earth food, if you asked her. Yet every bite, delicious as it was, tasted of guilt.
Finally, on the third course, she could not help it.
"Mister Santiago," she blurted out, "when I lived in Mindao, I had to eat from trash to survive. So do millions of refugees in the city. You are a kind and just president. Would you allow me to fill our helicopter with food, to deliver it to the people?"
President Santiago dropped his pork roll. He stared at her, eyes wide.
"You want to what—?" he blustered.
"And we could raise tents on your villa's lawns," Maria said. "There's plenty of space here. A thousand refugees could easily live here."
Santiago almost choked. He coughed for long moments, holding a handkerchief to his mouth.
"To hell with the refugees!" he finally spat out. "It's the damn Red Cardinal who sent them flooding the south. He should be the one to feed them! That rat. Why am I to blame? I didn't cause this war. He did!" Santiago pounded the tabletop. "I'm the one fighting him. If anyone saves Bahay, it will be
me! With Earth's help of course." He glanced nervously at the general.
"But don't you care about the hungry refugees?" Maria said.
"Care? Of course I care!" Santiago's face turned red. "Why do you think I'm leading South Bahay in war against the cardinal and those damn aliens? I'm fighting for humanity! Somebody has to. The Red Cardinal is half alien, did you know that? It's true! Someday I'll meet him in battle myself, and then people will stop complaining about my palace, and talking about how I depend on Earth, and I'll show the damn media how…"
Maria let him rant on. As Santiago kept blustering, she touched the diamond necklace around her neck. The fake diamond. She glanced at the general, then quickly looked away.
She thought he might have noticed. She did not touch the fake diamond again.
We play a game of chess, she thought. I just touched a piece, but raised my hand without moving it. I'm not yet ready to move. Did he see?
"I'm sorry, Mister Santiago," Maria said, interrupting the rant. "I didn't realize how mighty a warrior you were. Your tales of battle are truly astounding! I realize now that the true heroes are not the soldiers on the field, but the unflappable leaders who inspire them. Thank you for educating a silly girl."
His face softened. He clearly missed her sarcasm. "Don't worry, my darling. I'm not only a warrior but also a teacher. You have a keen mind for learning. An open mind. That is admirable." He looked at the general. "She is as intelligent as she is beautiful."
General Ward looked at Maria. His eyes flicked down to her choker, then into her eyes again.
Her heart pounded.
He knows! she thought. He knows the diamond is fake! That I swapped his gift with a zirconia!
But he merely smiled, looked away, and under the table he placed a hand on her thigh.
"You know, Juan," the general said to the president, "Maria had a good idea. Maybe we should feed some refugees. It's good PR for you. Tomorrow, I'll have helicopters ship some refugees to your home. Along with tents for the yard. They won't sleep in your bed, don't worry, Juan! But I'm sure you would love to host some in your splendid gardens."
The president spat out his drink. He gulped, patted at his face clumsily with a napkin, and began to protest. Something about how the lawns weren't even mowed yet, and the wind was nasty this time of year, and—
"Oh don't be modest, Juan!" Ward interrupted. "Your palace might have weeds in the yard, but it's certainly an upgrade from a rusty shanty by the train tracks. So it's settled! Tomorrow morning for the first shipment of refugees, yes? How about 6 o'clock?" The general's eyes glittered with amusement and just the hint of a threat. "Or do you have any objections to my lovely Maria's plan?"
The president seemed ready to explode. But he managed to hiss, "No objections, sir. It's a splendid plan." He looked at Maria, eyes dripping malice. "She has a heart of gold. Especially when it comes to my home."
* * * * *
They spent the rest of the day talking business. Analyzing the war. Moving pins across the map. With every pin moved, Maria saw fear grow in President Santiago's eyes.
The Red Cardinal is gaining ground, she thought. He's coming for Santiago.
All this time, Maria had prayed and fought for this war to end. For the Earthlings to leave and never come back. Yet what about the day after tomorrow? Should Earth leave, who would rule Bahay? Fat, corrupt Santiago, feasting on the planet's wealth as his people starved? Or the mysterious Red Cardinal, a religious fanatic, the creature some believed an alien hybrid and others called a vampire?
Neither option seemed pretty.
Should Earth ever leave this planet, we will descend into chaos and civil war, she thought. But that will be our chaos. That will be our war. It will still be better than suffering Earth.
That night, the helicopter returned the general and Maria to Little Earth. And like he did every night, the general took Maria into his bedroom, lay on his bed, and ordered her to pleasure him.
"Wait," he said as Maria was undressing. "Leave the choker on."
Maria had already removed her dress, and she stood naked before him—aside from the choker. She nervously touched the fake jewel, the hollow zirconia masquerading as Mother Mary's Tear.
"Are you sure, sir?" she whispered, unable to hide the tremble from her voice. "The diamond can cut you."
"I bought you that diamond at great expense, Maria," said the general, lying on his back. "And you look so beautiful wearing it. Leave it on. I insist. In fact, come closer. I want to admire the jewel."
Maria struggled not to wince.
He knows! He knows it's a fake!
Reluctantly, she lay on the bed beside him, choker around her neck, and she serviced him. She had studied his body every night. She knew how to make his blood boil. She did her duty, and she satisfied him, but again she did not let him penetrate her. She was pregnant, and her heart belonged to Jon, and she would not allow it. But oh, she had become quite good at pleasuring him in other ways.
Know your enemy, she thought. And I know every part of him.
When her work was done, she curled up beside him. They lay in the sweaty darkness, and he held her in his arms, and she felt trapped.
The general touched the fake diamond.
"Look how it shines," he said. "Like a star."
The gemcutter had told Maria that nobody could tell the difference. She forced a deep breath.
"Have you traveled to many stars, sir? Can you tell me about them?"
He brushed back a strand of her hair. "How quick you are to change the topic. You are a crafty little thing, aren't you? I quite enjoyed hearing you sling those barbs at Santiago. How he squirmed!"
"I merely wanted to help the hungry," Maria said.
"You have a kind heart," said the general. "I admire that. We come here, Maria, like the conquistadors. We don't try to understand, only to conquer. To enslave." He shook his head sadly. "It's a terrible thing. To see the poverty, the suffering, the dead… it's a heavy weight upon the heart."
Maria curled against him, naked, her body pressing against his. She could hear his heartbeat, and she wondered if there was some goodness in that heart after all.
"Sir, is it worth it? All this suffering. All this pain. Must we truly fight this war?"
The general stared up at the dark ceiling. "Maria, my father fought in the Alien Wars. He was a tough old sonuvabitch. I loved him. And he taught me something. He taught me that Earth is never safe. That we must never grow complacent. That we must never trust aliens. That only through sheer strength can we protect our species. Last century, aliens slaughtered billions of us. We were like lambs to the wolves. President Einav Ben-Ari built a grand empire for humanity. It us, the warriors who follow, who must protect what she built."
"Sir, would Ben-Ari approve of this war? She only fought aliens, not humans." She knew she was daring too much. Asking dangerous questions. During the day, she would have never dared utter those words. But in the shadows of night, in the softness of his bed, she dared.
General Ward thought for a long moment.
"We cannot know," he finally said. "Einav Ben-Ari disappeared. Some say she flew to explore another galaxy, to retire beyond the frontier. I don't know how she would see this war. But I know this. The Red Cardinal forged an alliance with aliens. And if aliens take one world from humanity, they will crave more. Our empire among the stars is fragile. If one world defies us, a hundred will rebel, and humanity will shatter into isolated worlds, lost in the darkness, prey for alien marauders. We must remain together. We must remain strong. We must welcome Bahay into the Human Commonwealth. That is where this world belongs. Where most of its people want to belong. I know it's hard. I know that many have died. I know that it makes Earthlings and Bahayans seem like enemies. But we are all humans. And in generations to come, this world will look back and be grateful that Earthlings and Bahayans worked together to free this world from alien claws."
Maria placed a hand on Ward's chest, raised her head from
the pillow, and looked into his eyes.
He's earnest, she thought. He truly cares. About humanity. About his legacy.
And she dared again. She said words she had not thought herself brave enough to utter.
"But sir, Earth killed millions of Bahayans. So many villages destroyed. My own village was bombed. How can you justify so much death when—"
He flipped over in bed, gripped her throat, and glared down at her.
Maria gasped.
His hand tightened, wrapped around the choker, crushing her neck.
"Do you feel this, Maria?"
She tried to suck in air, found none. She tried to kick, to squirm. But his body pinned her down. He was twice her size, so much stronger. She gave a raspy groan.
"Do you feel it tighten?"
He squeezed her neck even tighter. Her eyes were rolling back. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird. She began to panic. She clawed at him, drew blood from his shoulder. He barely noticed.
"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" He nodded, still gripping her neck. "The stranglehold. The terror. The looming death. That is how Earth felt for generations, Maria. The aliens caught us in such a stranglehold. They squeezed and squeezed until we nearly perished."
She floundered. She could barely see. Darkness was spreading, and stars floated.
My baby, she thought. He's killing my baby.
"My job is to break the stranglehold," Ward said. "To give Earth air."
He finally released her.
Maria sucked in air. She trembled, wept, breathing deeply again and again.
Earthling's War (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 3) Page 14
