by Rick Partlow
“The humans of Earth may appear similar to the Tevynians, but their history has gone down a different path. Many of you have seen this already. I have heard it said that the fact they are not a unified planet, that they have fought wars against each other, is a negative thing that proves them more violent. But I say to you, the reason for the fanaticism and utter ruthlessness of the Tevynians is because they are unified, and they have been for centuries. They are unified in conviction of the truth of their cause, of the supremacy of their religious and philosophical beliefs, because there has been no one to challenge it. They resort to war so easily because the only wars between them were with primitive weapons that could, at their worst, destroy a village. When we gave them access to weapons which could devastate cities and even whole planets, they didn’t hesitate, because they had no experience of the horrors of modern warfare.”
It was a good speech, at least to my ear, and I had a suspicion Garcia had helped him to write it. Which bothered me a little. Yeah, it sounded good to us, and to the Helta, who, despite their differences from us, were the race most like us in the Alliance. But of the others…the Skrith we could count on, but the Vironians and the Chamblisi weren’t mammalian life, or at least they hadn’t been a few tens of thousands of years ago, no matter what the Elders had done to them. Would this convince them, or would the logic be beyond their grasp?
“The people of Earth, particularly the Americans with whom we have dealt since the beginning, have had their struggles within their own borders and against other nations on their world. They have faced the utter devastation of modern warfare and have chosen to prevent unrestrained war from ever happening again. Without aid from us, they were making advances to explore and populate their own star system, spending great amounts of their limited resources on the desire to learn. Would any of us have been able to do such a thing without the benefit of fusion reactors and the hyperdrive? Would any of us have even tried?”
Eyes turned our way and I couldn’t read them any more than I could have understood the thoughts of a lizard or an octopus, but their attention made me uncomfortable. I was being regarded not as an individual, but as a representative of my whole species, and I was acutely aware that I was not a good sample.
“We took a risk,” Joon-Pah went on. “Perhaps a foolish one, but there is a saying among the humans of Earth. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We were pressed on all sides by the Tevynians, forced out of one system after another, our shipyard seized, our people enslaved. Our entire society was in danger of being overrun, and make no mistake, yours would have followed. We have, so far, taken the brunt of the Tevynian’s wrath, but they are a thorough people and would not leave your worlds unconquered. And then we met the humans, the Americans. The very day we encountered them, they were sending a ship to their world’s moon, and some of the members of that crew are with us here. General Michael Olivera, Colonel Julie Nieves and Major Andy Clanton, three humans I am proud to call my friends.”
We weren’t asked to stand, thank God, but a sort of spotlight settled on each of us as our names were said. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure where it was coming from because I didn’t see the light source, but a halo of light surrounded us, however it was done. At least no one cheered.
“We were followed into the system by a Tevynian cruiser. One on one, Helta ships such as my Truthseeker had never been able to defeat the Tevynians. The Americans took control of our ship and destroyed the Tevynians. And then, they returned control of the ship to us and invited us to visit their world, what we have come to call The Source. For it is the source of all of us, of all life in the galaxy. And yet, it is also the home of a burgeoning population. Some of them do not appreciate its natural beauty and pollute it with their primitive power production and industrial wastes. But they try. Many try to stop this, to put limits in place, but when people would starve otherwise, how can a caring individual abide by such limits? So, we have helped them. We gave them the knowledge they needed to perfect fusion energy, something they might have had on their own very soon anyway. We helped them to develop clean methods of production, helped them to get their raw materials from their moon and asteroids instead of digging them out of the crust of their world. We did this for them, but we also did it for The Source, to preserve it as best we can, so that all may come to appreciate it as we have.”
I don’t know where the holographic projector was, but the image that sprang to life above Joon-Pah’s head was at least five meters across. It showed Earth from orbit, the classic shot I’d first seen as a kid in school, then dove into the atmosphere, buzzing over New York City quickly enough that it made the place seem actually pretty. It skipped about with editorial license, no Cleveland or Detroit, just going straight from the Big Apple to San Francisco and Seattle, to Paris and Rome, Tokyo and Hong Kong before getting to what the Helta knew would be popular.
They started with Yellowstone and Grand Teton, which had been my suggestion. The towering mountains, the rivers, the forests, wolves and elk and bison and pronghorns in the Lamar Valley, grizzlies and black bear and flocks of geese. Then to Yosemite and the waterfalls, up to the Canadian Rockies, to Glacier and Banff, Vancouver Island, to Alaska. Alaska took a good five minutes and I almost forgot where I was, so enthralled was I by the incredible beauty of the place.
From there, the Helta drone traveled to Africa, the Serengeti, to the forests of China, the jungles of India, the Pantanal in Peru and Argentina, skipping over the cities because he’d told them about pollution but we didn’t really want to give them a down and dirty look at it. I scanned the audience and every eye seemed to be fixed on the images, like churchgoers staring at the evidence of a miracle.
“This is what we sought to save, and as well, the Americans have also saved us. They had one ship, a ship they stole from the Tevynians and refitted with our help. Just one cruiser. And with just one ship they have helped to free Helta systems and turned back a Tevynian fleet sent to conquer Helta Prime. And they have asked for nothing of ours in return other than our continued help to improve their planet, to make life better for those who had not enough, had not the luxuries you and I take for granted.
“They understand what the Tevynians do not, because our enemy lacks the perspective, the insight. The Americans realize they do not need to conquer our worlds. They realize that just being able to travel the stars gives them unlimited energy and resources for all, enough that none will want. Their only goal has been to keep our systems and theirs safe from the ravages of the Tevynians, and in this, they have kept their word. I owe them my life and the lives of my people, and I would ask that you grant them the respect and consideration they have earned in these last few months.”
Garcia shot me a smile as Joon-Pah slowly descended the staircase.
“I think that went great,” he gloated.
“He’s quite the speaker,” Olivera agreed, nodding with the appreciation only a Space Force General could have for long-winded oratory.
Colonel Brooks snorted softly, covering her smile with a hand, but I still caught it.
The Vironian ambassador passed Joon-Pah on the way up and barely acknowledged his presence. I knew the Vironians were supposed to be aloof and laconic, but I was getting the impression that the other races were not really that fond of the Helta.
The bipedal saurian could have been any one of the Vironians we’d met—the males, anyway. The males had a multicolored crest on the crown of their heads, which the females lacked, and there was sexual dimorphism as well, but between males…well, maybe if I hung out with them for a year or two, I would have been able to tell the difference between them.
The Vironian stood at the center of the pedestal, hands hanging at his sides, eyes flickering back and forth. I expected his tongue to start darting out from between his lips, but apparently, that was one habit Elder genetic engineering had left behind.
“We disagree,” he said without waiting to be introduced,
“Damn,” Garcia
hissed.
He should have known, I thought. It was never that easy.
Chapter Thirteen
“We Vironians are not known for our public speaking,” the ambassador continued, and I thought there might have been irony in the translation, “and I will keep my remarks short and to the point. Our brothers, the Helta, assure us that they have learned from their previous mistakes, that these new allies of theirs, these humans of Earth, are not like the Tevynians. That they are not as greedy, not as grasping. And I do not doubt their word.” Those lizard eyes speared me with an accusatory glare. “Now.”
He swept a clawed hand around expansively.
“Yet we do not make decisions for only now. In this body, we make decisions that will affect all our species for a thousand years. These Americans may not be of the same mind as the Tevynians, but they share their ephemerality. Their planetary society is evolving, as Joon-Pah himself said. Who is to say what they will evolve into? Who is to say that they will not decide, in ten years or a hundred, that they should be the ones to lead our Alliance? That we should be their servants and do their bidding? How would we oppose them if they are, as Joon-Pah has said, so superior to us and even the Tevynians in the ways of war?”
He made a gesture the translator explained to me was one of equivocation.
“I do not say yet that I reject their bid to join the Alliance, but I do say that I remain to be convinced.”
And with that, he descended the spiral staircase. Something felt off to me, something I couldn’t put a name to, until Garcia leaned over and informed me what it was.
“Strange not to hear applause after a politician gets through making a speech.”
I nodded. The crowd wasn’t the clapping sort. I wondered if the Skrith were given to howling if a speech excited them. I was about to find out, because Anu Neeme Klas was making his way up to take his turn. He stood silent at the center of the platform for a long moment, then raised one hand over his head, fingers curled into claws.
“I am Anu Neeme Klas of the Quarter Moon Clan!” he cried and I will be damned if the Skrith in the hall didn’t howl for him. The sound was haunting, raising the hairs on my arms, reminding me of the one time I had heard wolves howl in the wild.
When the noise died down, Anu Neeme Klas let his hand fall, let his chin lower to his chest. His eyes, yellow and piercing, scanned the audience.
“I, too, once felt as Shaa-San, the ambassador from the Vironians.” Interesting. The saurian hadn’t give his name when he spoke. “I considered the Helta foolish for trusting a race so like our enemies. It is true that the Tevynians have struck the Helta more than the rest of us, but the Skrith are a close second, and as we lack both the cruisers and the experience of our Helta brothers, the damage the enemy has done to us has been incalculable.”
He snorted, a sound my old dog might have made when something upset him.
“When they arrived here, they seemed to me to be arrogant and careless, and I allowed the differences I should have expected from an unknown people who have had little contact with others outside their planet to anger me. I challenged this one…” he inclined his head toward me. “…Andy Clanton, the one who protects their people, to a Blood Hunt. You all know what this means. I expected him to fare as well as any of you might have.” The translator relayed the derision in his words, but I might have been able to figure it out without help.
“Not only did he meet the challenge and beat me to the kill, he saved my life at risk to his own, when he could have easily let me die. And he did not consider this anything of note. It was just his way. Now, I cannot say that all of the humans are like Andy. It may be that he is among the best of them and their worst are even more dangerous than the Tevynians.”
Yeah, that might be exactly right, I agreed silently, remembering Chernobog.
“I cannot see into all of their hearts. I can only say to you that Andy Clanton is my friend, and I will not question his honor.”
They didn’t howl for him at the end, which I hoped was a cultural thing and not a show of disapproval for his speech. Garcia clapped me on the shoulder, beaming.
“Great job,” he told me. “We’ve got two, we just need one more.”
Dani Brooks leaned in, frowning.
“Has no one ever warned you about the dangers of premature celebration, Secretary Garcia?”
The Chamblisi were up last and I watched with a sort of horrified fascination as their delegate climbed the steps, seeming to ooze up them with legs that didn’t walk so much as they undulated. I almost didn’t notice Joon-Pah edging around the tables to drop into a seat between Olivera and Garcia.
“This will tell the tale,” he informed us, indicating the octopus with the long-ass name that I could not, at the moment, remember. “The Vironians are waiting until they see how the others go, as they always do. They are loath to make a unilateral decision. If the Chamblisi approve of you, so will the Vironians, with the weight of three to one against them.”
“Great,” I murmured. I leaned back so my mouth was even with Julie’s ear and whispered even softer. “The fate of humanity rests in the tentacles of a fucking talking octopus.”
“Hey now,” she replied just as quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “given the last few presidents we had, this might be an improvement.”
“What?” I asked, smiling, not necessarily at her joke but just because I was so damned happy to be around her. “You not a fan of Crenshaw?”
“Oh, he’s all right,” she allowed, shrugging. “He’s Navy, so I can’t say too much bad about him, even if he was a SEAL. I guess if the choices were writing a book or going into politics, he chose….” She laughed. “…well, he chose both, but he’s done okay. He’s handled all this a lot better than those morons in the House.”
“It worries me a little,” I admitted, eyeing Garcia. He was having a quiet conversation with Joon-Pah, but I didn’t want him to overhear us. “I mean, Crenshaw is a good man, and he’s done the right thing for the most part with the Helta. But if we were worried about the Executive having too much power before….” I shook my head. “I mean, hell, he got the whole world involved in someone else’s interstellar war, for God’s sake. When we’re spread through multiple star systems, dealing with all these different races and their politics, how much power do you think the President of the US is going to have?”
“I think,” Julie told me, “that there’s going to have to be a lot of pressure, probably is already and thank God we’re not there for it, for some sort of vote to be held by all the nations on Earth to elect a leader who can deal with the aliens. Something like a prime minister.”
“That ain’t gonna happen,” I told her, not even a shred of doubt in the statement. “We control the only starships in the world, all the alien weapons technology, the defense satellites…. Shit, not even the Speaker of the House would be willing to turn over that kind of power to the French or the Germans, much less the Russians or the Chinese.”
“I know.” Her expression was bleak. “That’s what worries me.”
The One Who Stares at Goats, or whatever the damned thing’s name was finally reached the top. His arms were writhing with constant motion, his beaklike mouth opening and closing and my skin crawled. He was, I was certain, a very nice fellow and I was just being speciesist, but it was hard to get over the whole business where he was an octopus!
“I dwell in blissful silence,” the Chamblisi declared, reminding me of his name, “and contemplate the Universe. Some of you think this is merely my designation, something given to me so that you may know me from my fellows. It is not. It is the description of my purpose, the service I provide to my people.”
“Hell of a job if you can get it,” Julie said, just a bit too loud. Garcia shushed her.
“I examine things,” the Chamblisi continued. “I examine the Universe and our place in it. I find perspective. I wonder, as I hear the words of our brothers and sisters, whether they might also benef
it from the gift of perspective. In the long view, the perspective of the cosmos would tell us that our current troubles are less significant than the pulse of a variable star, less permanent than a comet headed toward its primary. We argue and fret and fight and die over control of star systems and of individuals, when all our striving is but an eyeblink. Even our creators, the Elders, are only a fraction of the history of the existence of the Universe.
“And given this long view, this understanding of how little our individual losses and lives matter, the greatest sin would seem to be impatience, haste. We are making haste to this judgment, we are impatient to say whether or not the humans of Earth should be included in our number. Our allies, the Vironians, have said that the people who call themselves Americans may, someday, turn out to be even worse than the Tevynians, and that may be. Our allies, the Helta, have said that the humans will someday be the best of us, everything we aspire to and have not yet attained, and that may be, too.
“What will decide this is time, and I propose we must let more time pass. I would not call the people of the Earth our enemies, would not shut them out of our dealings, but I feel the passage of time must decide whether they should be an equal partner in our Alliance.”
“There is an expression in English,” Joon-Pah said sotto voce, “that I have found deeply eloquent and unmatched in any other language in its brevity. Shit.”
“Not what you were hoping for?” Dani Brooks asked him. She seemed fairly equanimous about the whole thing. Me, I had that feeling like when the Raiders were winning by two with thirty seconds left and they let the other team march down to the thirty yard line.
“Will they vote now?” Garcia asked the Helta, ignoring Brooks’ question.
“There will be a break for the meal,” Joon-Pah said. He was speaking English, so the translator didn’t try to tell me his mood or his tone, but I didn’t need it to. He was as solemn as a Baptist preacher delivering the eulogy at an atheist’s funeral.
