He looked across the table at gray-togaed Lorilen and a similarly dressed Grethel. The two Horem women were seated across from him and Colleen, only a meter’s width of table separating them. But now, it felt like light years. Feathery headcrests flickered in a strange body language. Yellow eyes seemed sympathetic—but humans were about to die. Why?
“Lorilen, Grethel, why do you wear gray?” he asked. “I’ve never seen Horem wearing gray.”
Grethel lowered her head, eyes downcast. Ancient Lorilen, her toga adorned with the seven-spoked neuron emblem of the Library, answered him.
“Jack, it is the Horem color of sorrow.” She slowly crossed her short-furred arms, glanced at Colleen, then back to him. “This is not something we do willingly. Do you understand?”
Colleen slammed a fist on the table. “Then stop it!”
Grethel sighed and looked up, her eyes showing that rarity of all in a species evolved on a semi-arid planet—tears. “Colleen, I wish I could. Lorilen wishes she could. Even Sargon does! But it must be this way. We are too few to accept attack with impunity. Those who use violence must die by it. Swiftly. Before they harm others.”
Colleen looked at him, confused. “Jack, you’re the Liaison. Can’t you do anything?”
Could he? Should he? He’d already tried when they first boarded Sarenflex in the hangar. It had only earned him the screeched insults of the Arrik Ruler T’Klose, and the regretful look of Sargon. Before they had turned to preparing for war.
“I tried,” he said, pushing aside the LinkPad he used for his blogging. “No go. The Penitents and the others asked for it. They’re going to get it now. I just pray that innocent people will not be hurt.”
“I too,” Grethel said, laying her head down on her forearms. Waiting.
“We all hope the innocent are not harmed,” Lorilen growled low. “Violence is rarely as precise as one would wish, Jack. I too wish safe voyage to any who might be near our strike targets. But fear of harm to innocents cannot stop justified retribution. Otherwise, it would only encourage future attacks. You know that.”
Colleen sobbed, then buried her face in her arms. He put one arm around her, and looked back to Lorilen. A Horem who was also their friend. “I do know that. I just wish it hadn’t come to pass.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Ten minutes later, the first newslinks came in on the front Imager screen. It was a mix of vidreports from CNN International, BBC, India’s Doordarshan TV, China’s CCTV and Brazil’s Globo. Lorilen, Grethel and Colleen looked up from their somber reflections. He leaned back in the plastic chair and focused on a side wallscreen that carried the feed from the Compact fleet. Images of turquoise-blue waters, bright yellow sunlight and brown coastlines zipped across the screen. Clusters of brown building cubes showed next to the seacoast. He looked back to the front screen.
“Jack, listen to what they’re saying!”
He took her hand in his. “Guess we gotta listen.”
“ALIENS ATTACK LIBYAN PROTECTORATE!” was the headline. His old colleague Lesley Ann Jacobs looked at them from the Imager. She gave voice to the unfolding story.
“NATO and Israeli military sources are now confirming short-wave radio and iPhone reports that ten alien spaceships are attacking the Libyan Protectorate cities of Tripoli, Misurata and Benghazi. Isolated desert camps near to Derna, Sirte, Tobruk, Al Zuetina and Al Kufra are being rocketed. One armored column in the south of the Libyan Protectorate has also been hit,” Jacobs said.
“The cities of Tripoli, Benghazi and Misurata are silent. But satphones in those cities are live and providing us with fragmentary images, although no live person appears in them. There are also brief reports from NATO ships cruising south of Sicily.
Jacobs looked aside to someone, then down at her LinkPad. “Egyptian Air Force F-20 and MIG-30 jets are trying to attack the Strelka Bite and Gosay Teeth ships. Satphone reports say the Egyptian jets are falling from the skies like flies. Apparently the alien ships move so fast that fighter jets, SAMs, manpads and anything else shot at the aliens appears to be standing still compared to the speeds possible in ships with inertial neutralization,” Jacobs said.
“American Air Force Colonel William F. Abrams, reached at Sigonella Naval Air Station in Sicily, said the jihadists who are based in the Libyan Protectorate are now reaping—”
“Jack, look over there at the portside screen,” Colleen said. “It’s a vidreport about the attack on Copenhagen.” He tore his eyes away from the front screen to stare at the other screen. Grethel and Lorilen also looked to the side screen. The imagery appeared to be coming from a BBC reporter.
“Johannes Gedirka is an eyewitness of the assault on Copenhagen,” came the voice of the reporter. “He escaped the effects of the alien sleep gas by use of a civil defense gas mask belonging to his son. Here is his live description of the scene.”
A satphone headshot filled the side screen. “I saw six dagger-shaped Horem ships fly over the city, circle it once, hover at l,000 meters, spit out small saucers about 10 meters in diameter, and then land in the Rijks Park on the outskirts of town. The small saucer craft formed up into three groups of five each and headed off in three different directions. One group headed to the Verdauk Old City section of the town and glided down near me. The top hatches of the five craft opened and two or three dozen Gosay, Strelka, Horem and Zik exited the saucers in blurs of motion. They carried hand weapons. The aliens headed for a waterfront apartment house where they were met by Penitents in gas masks who opened fire on them with automatic assault rifles.” In the side screen, Gedirka’s face showed his wild emotion.
“The Gosay, glistening black in the early morning sunlight, preceded the alien group. It was incredible—they ran through this hail of weapons fire and then clamped their shark-like mouths on the closest Penitents. Other Gosay, with bullets bouncing off them, were followed by Zik, Horem and Strelka in light body armor. When the Gosay hit the Penitent line, bodies and chunks of flesh went flying in all directions. The rest of the group entered the apartment house at a run. Seconds later I began to hear weapons firing, then human voices screaming, then mostly silence. Then I saw one Penitent trapped on the roof—he was being chased by a Zik. He simply ran off the roof into the air in his hurry to escape the crab’s pincers. It was incredibly violent, very bloody and over in a few minutes. I tell you I’ll never do anything to get the Aliens mad at me.”
Colleen pulled on his arm and pointed at the front screen. “It’s Lesley Ann.”
Jack and the others looked forward. On the screen was Jacobs’ head and shoulders, while to the right and left were live satphone images. Overlaid text identified the images as coming from Belo Horizonte, Parnaiba and Montevideo in Brazil and Uruguay.
“Citizens from outside these cities report no one inside them answers their iPhones or satphones. Several people who have seen the reports from Europe and Africa suggest sleeping gas was used to reduce the chances of innocent casualties,” Jacobs said, her hair a bit wild and her expression tired-looking. “Live phone imagery coming from all three cities shows Horem LACs, Strelka Bite ships, Zik Strike-Saucers and Gosay Teeth ships landing at multiple locations in each city. A drone camera flying over Belo Horizonte caught these images of gas-masked people firing RPG rockets at the alien ships. The rockets hit something invisible that protects the ships and exploded in mid-air. The red slash armbands worn by the rocket shooters match the insignia worn by NeoMarxists,” Lesley Ann said as she looked aside to someone off-stage, then faced the camera.
“Similar drone imagery is now coming in from Montevideo and Parnaiba. The imagery shows Gosay carnivores running through a hail of AKM-74 bullets until they reach the houses and trucks manned by NeoMarxists. As you can see, flesh chunks and sprays of blood are the result of any Gosay contact with the people Sargon the Horem says were involved in the attack on his home, the starship Hekar.” She paused and took a drink of water. “While the Horem werewolves and Strelka centipedes have not been seen chewing
into the NeoMarxists, the Gosay and Zik troops seem to relish the physical contact. Brazil’s President Katia Abreu says her air force and army units are not intervening due to the pledge by the aliens to not harm unarmed civilians. However, as can be seen, anyone who shoots at the aliens or tries to run them down with a truck is quickly dispatched.”
Jacobs tapped her desk and new images replaced the South American imagery. “Elsewhere in Tirana, Mogadishu, Niamey, Juba, San’a and Hyderabad, similar attacks on Penitent cells and Libyan jihadists are taking place. The populations of each city were rendered unconscious by a sleep gas dispersed by alien drones, after which their strike craft landed and disgorged ground troops. The alien troops head for specific houses, apartment blocks and some offices. It seems many humans have accepted the alien offer of gold tablets in return for information on the whereabouts of Penitents, NeoMarxists and Libyan Protectorate jihadists.” The woman who had introduced Jack’s vid-interview with Sargon again tapped her desk. Live images of warcraft appeared. “The alien attacks have been assisted in some areas by American fighter jets flying from nearby aircraft carriers, or by missiles fired from B5 bombers and Aurora spaceplanes. President McDonnell earlier announced that American military assistance was being provided to the Compact due to a mutual defense treaty recently established with the Compact leaders. The treaty, McDonnell said, creates a cross-species NATO. When asked about reported attacks on Baton Rouge and Wichita in her own nation, McDonnell said F-35 jets from the American Air Force participated those attacks, after confirming the use of sleeping gas on innocent Americans. She said her FBI had arrested a Penitent cell in Memphis and would put them on trial for the murder of—”
Colleen squeezed his left hand, sharp fingernails cutting into his palm. “Jack, why aren’t the other national governments doing anything?”
He had been wondering the same thing. The fact that humans were as greedy as the Horem couldn’t explain why nearly every national government was either ignoring the attack or excusing it. Then he remembered a statement by President McDonnell after the June attack by France and Israel against the Libyan Protectorate.
“Colleen, I think they’re trapped by their own words,” he said, watching as the center screen showed columns of flame and smoke rising from desert landscapes. “Two months ago McDonnell justified the counterstrike against Libya by citing the UN Charter’s right of self-defense and the pre-emptive anti-terrorist strikes of Israel against Iran in 1981, of the U.S. against Libya in l986 and by the U.S. against Afghanistan and Iraq after the 9/11 attacks.” He paused, wishing he had a fifth of Jack Daniels in front of him, anything to dull the pain. “Now, the aliens are doing the same thing. The civilian populace is being incapacitated with sleeping gas, and they evidently know exactly where to go to find the Penitents, NeoMarxists and jihadists.” Rich aliens, like rich humans, had long ago found out how easy it was to buy intelligence on the black market. There were also cases where the Americans, Japanese, Russians and Chinese had shared intel with the Compact for their own reasons. And sometimes the Compact repaid the favor.
“But this is Earth!” she said, still watching the imagery. “Those are humans being attacked!”
Jack looked at Colleen, loving her for her compassion even when he knew she knew this was the only way to deal with terrorists. He thought she would have guessed the real reason for the government delay by now.
“Colleen, I think we’ve just grown up, in a very bizarre way.” Lorilen looked at him strangely, her headcrest flaring widely. “The Stranger has attacked our home territory and we are refraining from an all-out counterattack.”
“Not the Australians—look!” Colleen yelled, pointing at a side wall.
He looked at the portside screen. Text flashed across it. AUSTRALIANS BATTLE ALIENS it read. The imagery showed air combat. A cluster of alien strike craft now swirled with dark smudges that exploded before contact. From below, milky white pencil-exhausts rose up from the briefly seen ground, reaching toward him, toward Jack, toward the ship carrying the video Imager. Rainbow-colored beams criss-crossed the screen, reaching for the black smudges. They listened as a Kyodo reporter spoke from within a Tokyo high rise.
“Radio and television broadcasts from Melbourne, Sydney and other Australian cities report that alien ships have just appeared over Sydney in an apparent attempt to strike at a Penitent cell in the city. The Australian Prime Minister came on nationwide TV a few minutes ago to announce the Australian Armed Forces would resist the aliens with every resource at hand. He called on all neighboring nations to come to his aid.
“Satphone imagery and broadcasts by Australian TV stations show a massive aerial battle raging over Sydney. Three Strelka Bite ships are moving in a circular pattern over the city while two Horem LACs and four Zik Strike-Saucers are moving about the town’s perimeters seeking out armored columns, SAM emplacements, fortifications and troop concentrations.
“The air over the city is a bizarre tapestry of red carbon dioxide, green hydrogen-fluorine and purple xenon-flouride laser beams, all criss-crossing the sky as they strike down jets, helicopters, ‘smart’ air-to-air missiles, SAMs and anything else appearing above the horizon. There are terrible booms and roars—”
Colleen looked his way, her expression shocked. “Why the Australians, Jack? Why are they fighting the Compact?”
He shook his head. “I knew the Aussies were an independent, cussed group, especially after they left SEATO, kicked out the American ambassador and struck out on their own. But this is crazy. Even the New Zealanders aren’t rushing to help. Listen, there’s more!”
“—as superheated air rushes away from the beam pathways. Burning armored vehicles are exploding wherever the eye looks. Few citizens can be seen since most were disabled by the sleeping gas, but soldiers’ gas-mask-clad bodies litter major intersections and strong points.
“How long the conflict will go on is unknown, but already the smaller saucer craft are heading out toward several spots in Sydney, presumably hunting for Penitents. Other Compact strike craft have appeared over Melbourne. Similar clashes with Australian army and air force units are happening. President McDonnell has appealed to Prime Minister Ricardo to stop fighting the Compact forces. She pledges recovery assistance and—”
Jack turned off his ears even as his eyes stayed glued to the images of other humans dying. He felt saddened by the Aussie bravery. They all have their reasons for what they do. The Australian politicians. The aliens. The Penitents. The NeoMarxists. The Libyan Protectorate jihadists. What was his role now? What could he do?
Lorilen had gotten up and gone to stand beside a wall holo of Horem, its green-glowing planet-wide lichen covering its land surface everywhere except for the white ice-caps of the poles. She reached one hand up to softly trace a finger along its equatorial girdle of high, wind-swept plateaus. Remembering something. Remembering what?
Grethel had moved over to their side of the table, her velvety-furred arms reaching to hug Colleen, doing her best to console, to reassure, to share the hurt. Her yellow eyes caught his.
He stood up and moved off to a Horem couch-seat in one corner of the empty, echoing food hall. He settled down, laid his LinkPad on his lap, recalled his feelings, his emotions, his two years as Liaison to the aliens, and began typing his blog. It would go out to the comsats once he finished. As he typed, he glanced up at the front Imager screen to read the toll of dead, dying and injured, the losses sustained, the ships damaged, the lives altered forever.
“THE DAY OF CONFLICT
by Jack Harrigan
CNN Senior International Correspondent
“Aboard the Dreadnaught Sarenflex, August 31, 2052—Once again I look out upon the face of war, this time between Australians and aliens, and I wonder again at that evolutionary impulse within that prompts us to declare to the Stranger—“You shall not enter our territory!”
“The attack by the Compact aliens against the Libyan Protectorate jihadists, the NeoMarxists and the Penitent c
ells is simply a reflection of their “deeds not words” social policy and the right to self-defense which they declared in my Alien Broadcast two years ago. Leaving behind molten slag heaps of armored vehicles, smoking rubble where barracks once stood, and pillars of fire at air and missile installations in the Libyan Protectorate is the normal end result of war. What is uncommon are the minimal civilian casualties, even among the Libyans.
“It was a surgically precise, blitzkrieg-type of attack which would compare well with anything the Germans of World War II ever mounted. The attempts to harm only those who needed harming went far beyond usual human war standards. It is clear they have read our Geneva Conventions. And the fury meted out upon the terrorist jihadists, political anarchists and religious zealots was worse than anything achieved to date short of Hiroshima or Islamabad. But what was truly sad, truly needless and so disturbing was the Australian attack upon the Compact force and the resulting carnage.
“The Australians, it is reported, lost 342 jets, 30 mobile missile batteries, 174 heavy tanks, 400 APCs and 4,000 troops in 41 minutes of open conflict. After that, there were no more planes left to attack with. No more tanks. No passable roads into or out of Melbourne and Sydney. And shell-shocked exhaustion immobilized the few infantry left alive in the city centers. Forty-eight minutes after arriving, the Compact strike force completed its dismembering of the Penitent cells and jihadist hideaways. They then left Australia for LEO and a rendezvous with this dreadnought. It had taken only seven minutes to destroy the defenses of Sydney, Melbourne and nearby bases. They left behind an outraged Australia, a shocked Earth and somber military establishments. The aliens lost 12 small saucer craft, sustained light damage to two of the Horem LACs, and carried back the bodies of only a few aliens.
Retread Shop 1: First Contact Page 35
