The Holy Land: Fanatical Earthling planet assassins are spreading chaos through the galaxy. Is there any nice way to stop them?

by Robert Zubrin

  Gripping the bars, she hauled herself to her feet and then looked around. She was inside of an enclosure marked out by bars on three sides and a concrete wall on another. There were two short sides roughly two meters in length, and two longer ones about three meters in length. Inside the enclosure was a wooden platform raised about half a meter above the ground. Apparently she had been sleeping on this until she rolled over and fell. A meter away from the platform was a bowl of the general form that Earthlings used for defecation, except that it was made of steel, not ceramic, the usual toroidal hinged seat-edge cover was absent, and there was no tree-flesh available for self-cleaning. The dim light that filled the cell came from a bare incandescent electrical current bulb in the neighboring cage.

  Aurora looked at herself. Her robe and owl were gone. In their place were dirty loose orange garments made of Earthling fabric of a quality very inferior to those which Sally had lent her. One of the garments was a short-sleeved pullover shirt and the other was a pair of trousers. Both the shirt and pants itched wherever they touched her, and there were no undergarments. Her feet were bare.

  She sat down on the wooden platform and tried to collect her thoughts. This obviously could not be Tartarus. It was much too crude. Instead she was in some kind of Earthling holding pen.

  How had she gotten here? She tried to remember. Where had she been last? The hill. She had taken Hamilton to the hill to try to provoke him to escape. Apparently he had done so. But then had he brought her here? That was unexpected.

  Hamilton had to be freed. That thought had dominated her for the past week. After what he had done for her, after the trust he had placed in her, the HighCouncil’s order to reduce him back to study specimen status was immoral. She would not have been able to live with herself had she allowed it to be enforced. Yet, she could not defy them openly and simply release the man. To do so would have caused her to be branded a traitor, and disgraced her family name for all eternity. No, she had to set it up so it would seem like he escaped through his own effort.

  Obviously Hamilton could not be told the plan, since anyone could read his mind either before his escape, or afterwards, should he ever be retaken. So she had kept him in the dark, and prepared him for his role by enraging him with cruel treatment. It had taken more effort than she had expected to trigger him into violence against her. But faced with the alternative of allowing the death of all his friends, he had been forced to choose action.

  Hamilton was a soldier. He wanted to be human, and he defined his human essence through his commitment to his chosen role as defender of the good. His chances of survival in the combat with Vardt’s lunatics were low, but that was a secondary matter. If he died fighting them in an effort to save Melissa Berger’s children’s hospital, he would at least die as a human. At Anthropo, he would have been denied that right.

  Aurora imagined Hamilton in that first moment after he had achieved his freedom, the full dignity of his restored humanity filling his soul, charging down the hill to save the helpless and defend the right. He was one in spirit with the heroes of ancient lore, like the sons of Theseus, who had fought not from starships but from chariots, and sword in hand had rescued Ariel and the other fair daughters of Penelope from the evil owl hunters. What a man he was. If only hehadn’t been born 20,000 years too late.

  “Fare you well, noble warrior,” Aurora whispered. “May Minerva guide you and protect you. May she reward your courage with victory over evildoers in this life, and a place with the blessed brave in the next.” The thought of the next world brought Aurora back to the present. What was she doing here? When she turned her back on Hamilton that

  last time, she had expected to awaken in the Elysian Fields. She had rep - resented herself to him as an enemy, and as a trained soldier Hamilton certainly knew the folly of leaving disabled enemies to recover. Yet he had done so. After all the cruelty she had directed at him he had still decided to let her live. Not only that, but the feelings that had caused him to do so were so strong that they had been able to kick in within seconds of his first assault and overpower the strong violent instincts which she had willfully provoked.

  There was only one emotion strong enough to do that; love. Infatuation wouldn’t do, only real love could make a man act in such a way. Sally was right. Her brother was the real deal. Aurora brushed a tear from her eye. If only...

  She looked at the cell bars. If love had stopped Hamilton fromkilling her, it certainly would also have prevented him from bringing her here. That meant someone else had.

  A door to the side of the cell block opened and a large husky Earthling with a horrific smell entered and stared at her from outside her cage. He wore a mottled green military uniform similar to the one Hamilton had when he was captured, but instead of three stripes on the shoulder, this man had six silver stars, and was carrying a baton. Aurora tried to scan his mind to learn more about him, but it was futile. There was an antitelepathy device installed in his brain, making him completely unreadable.

  “Well, good morning,” the man said. “I see we are finally wide awake. I hope you found the accommodations suitable.” The man snick- ered. “Your Eminence.”

  “Who are you?” Aurora asked.

  “I am Field Marshall Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander of the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Space Force of the Empire of Kennewick.”

  Aurora rubbed the side of her head.“Huh? I thought Aaron Vardt was the boss of the Kennewickianassassins.”

  The Field Marshall became instantly enraged. He rapped his baton against the cell bars. “You will refer to our glorious leader by his proper title. He is the Premier Imperial Grand Magnificent Emperor, or PIGME for short. And we are not assassins. We are freedom fighters, pledged to liberate first Kennewick, and then the rest of the galaxy from pagan tyranny.”

  Aurora looked a the man. She recalled seeing a picture of an American military leader named Douglas MacArthur at the Hamiltons’ house. This man bore no resemblance.

  “You are not Douglas MacArthur,” she said.

  The man blushed. “No. Technically speaking, I am Herman Witherspoon. However when I became Field Marshall, I felt it would be appropriate to assume a more glorious appellation. I have also renamed all my top officers. Never before in the history of conflict has anyone commanded so many famous generals at the same time.”

  “So you work for the pig-mee?” Aurora inquired, trying to be polite.

  The Field Marshall rapped his baton again. “It’s pig-meh, NOT pigmy! Don’t you dare ever call him the pigmy. He hates that.”

  Aurora scanned her mental archive ofHamilton’s thoughts to find out what a pigmy was. She found a reference. Apparently the word pigmy referred to a small person of inferior civilization. “Why?” she said. “It seems like an appropriatedesignation.”

  Field Marshall MacArthur scowled. “I think Your Eminence will need to learn some respect. From now on, this will happen to you every time you are disobedient.” He shouted towards the door.“GeneralPatton, bring in theowl!”

  Another man in uniform, this one with only four stars, entered the room carrying a tray on which there were some cooked bird parts. Aurora recoiled in horror. They were going to make her eat owl! She would be dammed forever.

  The two men entered the cell. Aurora backed away, but there was nowhere to run. Then Field Marshall MacArthur grabbed her and forced her mouth open. “Give her a piece, General Patton. I’m sure she’s hun- gry.”

  Aurora tried to struggle, but the two men were much too strong for her. The bird part went into her mouth, and she was forced to chew and swallow it to avoid choking. The men chuckled and exited her cell, slamming the door behind them.

  Field Marshall MacArthur looked back at her.“So did you enjoy your owl?” He smiled.

  Aurora, however, had recognized the taste. “I’ve had better turkey,” she said. “But this will do.” She picked up another piece and nibbled on it. “Do you have any sweet potatoes or cranberry sauce to go with it? I believe that
is customary.”

  The Field Marshall’s face turned black with disappointment. “You think you’re very smart, don’t you. Well, we’ll show you.”

  But before he could do anything, another four-star soldier came running in and saluted. “What is it, General Pershing?” the Field Marshall said.

  “Glorious Field Marshall,” General Pershing began. “I bring bad tid- ings. The entire Fifth Division, sent to arrest the heretics at the hospital, has been martyred. Apparently a group ofBerger’s traitors got behind our men and took them bysurprise.”

  Aurora’s heart soared when she heard the news. “Having a little trou- ble with your doctors?” she said.

  Field Marshall MacArthur frowned at her.“I shall return to deal with you later.” He turned to his men. “Generals, defeat is unacceptable. The PIGME will want to know who is to blame. Come, let us look into this and assign responsibility.”

  The three men turned smartly on their heels and left the cell block. Aurora took another bite of the turkey, which suddenly tasted almost as good as that cooked by Mrs. Hamilton.

  Junea said, “I’m so glad you could all spare time from your busy schedules to make it here today. I think this is a historic moment. At last we are all sitting down together to begin a peace process for Kennewick.” Nendra looked at the other occupants of the meeting room in horror. In addition to Junea, there was a hideous Earthling who she recognized as the assassin leader Aaron Vardt. However it was the fourth person whose presence most thoroughly shocked her.

  Junea continued. “Allow me to do the necessary introductions. This is the Premier Imperial Grand Magnificent Emperor, or PIGME, of Kennewick, the most holy reverend Aaron Vardt. PIGME Vardt, meet Her Divine Eminence, High Priestess Nendra, chief executive of New Minervapolis.”

  Vardt said, “I understand that you meant no disrespect, Ambassador, but my title has changed. I am now to be refereed to as the ‘Supreme PIGME.’”

  Junea nodded. “My deep est apologies, Supreme PIGME. I will be certain to avoid inadvertently demeaning you through the use of an inadequate title in the future. Allow me now to introduce to both of you the person who will serve as mediator for these negotiations, Universal League Peace Commissioner, Countess Himla Petana.”

  Himla Petana’s blonde hair and red robe with twined snake insignia marked her out as a high official of the Central Galactic Union. Not that Nendra needed such signs to recognize the woman, as she was well known to history. Fifteen years ago she had been the Governor of the

  Andromeda Province of the Central Galactic Empire, and in that capaci - ty had coordinated aphrodemonic anti-Minervan extermination programs in over a thousand star systems. She had been tried and convicted of war crimes, but had her sentence suspended because she was nobility. Now she had apparently been allowed to reenter political life, and was the Universal League’s chosen representative to serve as Peace Commissioner for the Earthling/Minervan conflict. Nendra shuddered.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” Himla Petana said. “I am so glad to be here to finally initiate the peace process for this poor benighted world, so full of historic and unique archeological treasures, yet until now, so full of despair. I’m sure we all share a common objective in seeking peace. There may be many obstacles in our path, but I’m sure we can transcend them if we keep in mind three simple truths: peace is love, love is peace, and love conquersall.” She smiled at Nendra in a way that made the High Priestess positively sick.

  Himla Petana continued. “Now, since we are all very busy people who have many other things we need to do, I suggest we get right down to business. The Supreme PIGME has put forward an excellent plan for the fair and equitable division of Kennewick. On behalf of the Universal League, its four major interstellar Empires or Confederations, its several thousand insignificant barbaric Queendoms, and its 120 quintillion inhabitants, I endorse his plan. I therefore request that the Minervans accept it aswell.”

  “May I see the plan please?” Nendra said. “I don’t see why that is necessary,” Himla Petana replied. “You’re going to have to accept it, whether you like it or not.”

  “If I am not shown the plan, I will not agree to it,” Nendra said with a determination that surprised even herself.

  There was silence at the table for several seconds. Then Junea said, “I see no problem with that. The plan is quite fair. Please show her the plan, Countess.”

  Himla Petana shook her head. “Really, Ambassador. You indulge these Minervans far too much.” But she handed Nendra a piece of osmo- propylene, on which was inscribed a set of conditions comprising the draft agreement. The terms read:

  1. The territory on the primitive planet Earth, Procyon District, Southern Sector, known variously as New Minervapolis and/or Kennewick is to be split on a 50/50 basis between the Minervan High Council (MHC) and the Imperial Grand Magnificent Empire of Kennewick (IGMEK).

  2. The split will occur as follows: All odd-numbered addresses on

  odd-numbered streets and even-numbered addresses on even-numbered streets will be assigned to the control of the MHC. All even-numbered addresses on odd-numbered streets and all odd-numbered addresses on even-numbered streets will be assigned to the control of the IGMEK.

  3. For purposes of this agreement, all streets which are known by names, rather than numbers, shall be considered odd-numbered if the first letter of their name has a position in the alphabet which is odd-numbered when considered in the standard American Earthling sequence of letters beginning with “A” and ending with “Z.” All other streets shall be con- sidered evennumbered. Thus for example, “Broadway” whose name begins with “B,” the second letter of the American Earthling alphabet, shall be considered an evennumbered street, while “Columbus Street,” which begins with the third letter shall be considered an odd-numbered street. Certain streets, such as “Fourth Avenue,” whose name refers to an even number but whose initial letter holds an odd-numbered position in the American Earthling alphabet, shall have their status determined later by a special arbitration commission to be appointed by the Universal League.

  4. The MHC will be responsible for policing MHC territory, while the IGMEK will be responsible for policing IGMEK territory. Should one of the parties require police actions against individuals operating in the territory of the other, they will refer such complaints to the responsible authorities of the otherparty’s government for appropriate enforcement action. In no case shall law enforcement activities by one party be permitted on the territory of the other party.

  5. Both parties agree to immediately cease and desist from the practice of inflicting injury on children of the other party, including children who may be carrying traditional weapons.

  6. In order to maintain symmetry of power between the two parties, each party will be provided with identical ninth-class weaponry for their law-enforcement agencies by the Universal League. Both parties agree not to seek or accept any military assistance beyond that outlined above.

  7. Both parties agree not to damage Inca artifacts that may be in their possession. Furthermore, both parties agree to transfer custody of all such artifacts that may now, or at any time in the future, come to be in their possession to responsible authorities of the Universal League without any delay whatsoever.

  Nendra looked up. “I can’t sign this.” Himla Petana looked at Junea. “You see? What did I tell you? They are nothing but trouble.”

  “Have patience, Countess Commissioner,” Junea urged. “I’m sure

  whatever minor problems the Minervans may have with the agreement can be worked out.” “Very well,” Himla Petana said. “Let’s deal with each point in the peace plan, starting with the most important. If the Minervans will not agree to that, I see no point in continuing these discussions at all.” She turned to Nendra. “Your Eminence, do you, or do you not agree to point number seven?”

  Nendra glanced at the contract, then faced Himla Petana . “The Minervan High Council has no difficulty accepting point number seven, pr
ovided it is in the context of an overall agreement whose other clauses are also acceptable.”

  Himla Petana scowled. “What is that supposed to mean? Either you accept point number seven, or you do not. Answer carefully, Minervan. The people of the galaxy will not look kindly upon those who willfully place priceless cultural treasures in danger.”

  Nendra shrugged. She had more important concerns to negotiate. “On behalf of the MHC, I agree unilaterally to point number seven. We have no Inca artifacts in our possession, but should we acquire any, we will hand them over to the UL atonce.”

  Junea smiled. “There, Countess Commissioner. I told you they could be reasonable.”

  Himla Petana nodded. “Yes, perhaps they can, when they have a helicannon pointed at their heads.” She turned to Vardt.“Supreme PIGME, will you also agree unconditionally to point numberseven?”

  Vardt cleared his throat, emitting a smell that caused Himla Petana to back away suddenly in thinly-disguised disgust. Apparently she was not used to Earthlings. “Well, Countess Commissioner,” he said. “I certainly would like to. However, unlike the Minervans, we of the Imperial Grand Magnificent Empire of Kennewick are a democracy, and we must take the opinions and feelings of all of our people into account before making a decision of this magnitude. Inca artifacts represent a precious cultural heritage which is deeply valued by all Kennewickians, and while we were prepared to give them up in exchange for an equitable peace agreement, to do so in the absence of such represents a step that many of our people may be unwilling to take. Naturally, however, as a person who is sensitive to the aesthetic demands of galactic public opinion, I will do my best to obtain the agreement of my people to your request. Of course, it would be of great assistance to me in doing so if comparable major concessions could be extracted from the Minervans inreturn.”

  “Thank you, Supreme PIGME,” Himla Petana said. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  Nendra said, “That’s good enough for you? You demand that we give an unconditional answer, but you let the Earthlings get away with mere equivocation?”