by Grant, Peter
She stopped walking and looked around. “Clearly, this is a longer-term proposition. Our main focus will be on Bactria in the short term. However, if we can parlay that into something that will help other planets besides Laredo, we’ll be helping ourselves as much as we help them – and I’d hate to see another planet suffer the way ours did.”
Sergeant Higgs asked, “Ma’am, what if we don’t want to make a career in the military? I’m a reservist, even though I’ve been full-time since the war began. I don’t mind fighting Bactria, but I’d like to get back to civilian life sometime. I don’t want to spend the next twenty years training others and supporting a deterrent force in which I don’t have a personal stake.”
“Dave’s already said we’ll be free to make new lives for ourselves,” she pointed out. “We really mean that. This is going to take a lot of commitment, and anyone feeling burned out after Laredo should consider their options very carefully. We won’t blame you in the least if you decide to do that. We’ll still have work for you in our Embassy as a civilian, or you can do something on your own – even move to another planet and start afresh there. It’s up to you.”
Dave stood up beside her and took the attaché case from behind his chair. Its leather still bore several dark crusted streaks and stains, standing out starkly against its tan color. He pointed to them as he said, “Let me tell you where Tamsin and I stand. That’s Vice-President Johns’ blood from yesterday. I’m not going to clean it off; in fact, I’m going to spray sealant over it to preserve it. After this morning’s news conference, I’m going to mount this in a glass display case in the foyer of our Embassy. It’ll be a permanent reminder to us and everyone who visits us of why we’re doing this – as if we needed another one!
“It doesn’t matter to me whether a Bactrian thug acted on his own initiative, or whether he was ordered to kill her. We’re going to make Bactria pay for her murder as much as for their invasion of Laredo. Both Tamsin and I were slowly coming to the conclusion that we couldn’t do much as individuals, or with such a small group of soldiers, and asking ourselves whether we should end hostilities. Not anymore. From now on, whether we stand alone or with others, it’s going to be war to the knife.”
There was a savage yell of agreement as most of those around the table thrust themselves to their feet. “WAR TO THE KNIFE!”
Manuel bent to whisper in his sister’s ear where they sat at the foot of the table. “It may sound stupid when we’re talking about so few people, but I think Bactria just made the worst mistake of its life.”
“Me too,” she murmured. “They won’t give up. They’re fighting mad now. Bactria has no idea of the passions it’s aroused.”
“Not yet… but it’ll learn. Oh, how it’ll learn!”
About The Author
Peter Grant was born and raised in Cape Town, South Africa. Between military service, the IT industry and humanitarian involvement, he traveled throughout sub-Saharan Africa before being ordained as a pastor. He later immigrated to the USA, where he worked as a pastor and prison chaplain until an injury forced his retirement. He is now a full-time writer, and married to a pilot from Alaska. They currently live in Tennessee.
See all of Peter’s books at his Amazon.com author page, or visit him at his blog, Bayou Renaissance Man, where you can also sign up for his mailing list to receive a monthly newsletter and be kept informed of upcoming books.
