Peace Talks (Adventures of the Starship Satori Book 12)

Home > Other > Peace Talks (Adventures of the Starship Satori Book 12) > Page 11
Peace Talks (Adventures of the Starship Satori Book 12) Page 11

by Kevin McLaughlin


  Maybe Garul understood humans well enough to actually make a difference out there, too.

  “We're doing this, Captain,” Hereford said. “I want everyone on the lookout for trouble. Anyone pulls a weapon, take them down with one of the Naga rifles. Otherwise we don't fire for anything short of the entire mob rushing us. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jenkins replied. He looked frustrated, but he was also a damned fine soldier. He'd been given orders. Even if he didn't like them, he'd do everything he could to see the task set before him accomplished.

  “It's on you, now,” Hereford told Garul. “You really think you can say anything that will make a difference to that lot?”

  The Naga warlord stepped from the car into the bright sunlight. “I can only try, General.”

  “Do or do not, damn it,” Hereford snapped. “Don't screw around out there. If things get hostile, we're pulling you out, understood?”

  Garul nodded. He beckoned for Owen to follow him. The kid did so without complaint. Hereford had to hand it to McInness, he was willing to stick his neck out. Hell, he had to give credit to Garul for building that sort of trust, too. If he could talk McInness around, as far gone as the kid had been, maybe he really could do something to quell the mob outside the gate.

  It was time to find out. Flanked by six of Jenkins' men, Garul stepped out from behind the shelter of the gate shack and into the view of over a thousand angry humans.

  Twenty-Five

  The crowd went from a roar to less than a whisper in half a heartbeat. It wasn’t the still quiet of outer space that met Garul as he rounded the corner of the building and came into full view of the crowd. This was a hesitant yet angry stillness like the one immediately before a storm struck. These people were furious and the object of their fury had appeared in front of them. They might be taken aback for a brief time, but it wouldn’t last.

  He needed to act quickly.

  “People of Earth,” Garul said. He noted that there were cameras from at least three news crews broadcasting the protest. All three had swung to face him the moment he arrived. That might be good or terrible news, depending on how the next few minutes went. If he succeeded in calming these people, his words would be broadcast across the planet and might do even more good.

  Of course, if he failed, that too would be broadcast. No pressure.

  Garul sucked in a deep breath before speaking again. “People of Earth. I am Garul, an envoy from my people to yours. I am here to meet with some of your leaders, but I am also here to send a message to all of you.”

  “That message is a simple one. We were wrong, and we are sorry for the harm we have caused.”

  Garul paused to take the measure of the crowd. They stirred somewhat at his words. A few whispers passed among them. But they weren’t lashing out. It was a hopeful start. He decided to continue on. “No words can compensate you for the harm we did. So we will instead show our remorse and resolve with actions. We have done you wrong; we will take whatever measures we can to make reparations for that.”

  “Why?” A man in the crowd shouted out. “Why bother? Just leave us the hell alone!”

  “Do your people not also believe in taking responsibility for doing wrong?” Garul asked. The man who’d shouted out before hesitated, then nodded. “As do we. The truth is, even after we had attacked you and killed many of your people, in our moment of greatest need, some of your heroes came to our aid. When the real foe was at our doorstep, planning to destroy our world, Earth did not hesitate. Your ship commanders flew to our assistance and in doing so saved my people.”

  “Those operations are still classified,” Hereford remarked beside him in a soft voice.

  Garul glanced at him, smiled, and went on speaking. “The Naga are in your debt. Your world saved ours, when you had no cause to do so and every reason to celebrate our destruction. We do not know if this debt can ever be replayed, but we will do all we can.”

  Then he took a step forward toward the crowd. They backed away. He took another step and then knelt before them, head facing the pavement below their feet, arms splayed out at his sides. It was a posture of submission; not something a warlord did lightly. Garul couldn't see the soldiers behind him, but he could feel their tension climb as he knelt there motionless before the mob. If one of them had a weapon, they could use it on him now and there would be little anyone could do. He was helpless before them.

  But none of them stirred. They all stood, signs in hand, eyes wide. Garul heard motion from somewhere within the crowd and lifted his eyes to look. It was a small human, one of their young. A girl, unless he missed his guess; it was sometimes difficult for him to tell the human genders apart, especially with their young.

  An older human tried to restrain her, but the girl struggled free from her mother's hands and dashed forward to stand directly in front of Garul. Hands on hips, she glared at him.

  “Are you the Grinch?” she asked. “Because you're green like the Grinch, and mom says you're bad like him.”

  The crowd was ready to lunge forward. Garul sensed that they would fight to protect the child if they thought he would harm her. They'd rush him, even though he had frightening claws and teeth. He saw the resolve in their eyes. Best to keep his movements slow and deliberate. He did all he could to carefully avoid anything that might be interpreted as hostile. But kneeling in full armor was becoming painful, so Garul instead slid backward away from the girl into a sitting position.

  “I do not know who that is, child,” Garul told her.

  Owen leaned in behind him, grinning ear to ear. “A story character. Tall green bad guy who hates Christmas.”

  Garul nodded to him, then turned back to the girl. “Then I am not he. I think your Christmas celebration is much like our own Davali. It is a celebration of life and light, is it not?”

  The girl nodded. “Mom says it's Jesus's birthday. But...” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It's also when Santa brings me presents!”

  “Then who is this Grinch?” Garul asked her.

  “Oh, he doesn't like presents or singing or toys or fun. He tried to steal everyone's Christmas but then changed his mind,” she explained. “He turned into a good guy in the end.”

  “Then perhaps I am something like this person,” Garul replied.

  The girl backed away a step when he said that. “Why?”

  “Because like your Grinch, my people did bad things to your people. But also like him, we have realized that we did wrong, and we hope to make amends,” Garul said. He stood and addressed the entire crowd again. “I cannot bring back your loved ones. I cannot undo the terrible things my people did. But we are dedicated to doing all we can to try. You have no reason to trust my words; I know this. But I swear to you by my blood that I will not rest until our debt to Earth is repaid in full.”

  The protesters murmured to one another again, quietly discussing what he'd said. Garul wasn't sure if any of his words had changed the minds of those listeners, but if he had even made a beginning toward something new, then he counted it worth the risk.

  The girls's mother rushed forward and took the child by the shoulders, trying to guide her back into the crowd. The little girl stomped her foot on the ground. “I'm talking with him, mom!”

  “You should go with your parent, small one,” Garul rumbled, trying not to laugh. He met the mother's eyes. “Our children are also sometimes trouble.”

  She rewarded his words with a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes. “I don't know what to make of you. I came here because my home was blown to bits by one of your ships. But...it's hard to stay angry with you after what you've said. And like Christie pointed out, it is almost Christmas. If we're going to start healing and forgiving, it seems like a good time for it.”

  Garul returned her smile, careful not to show his teeth. He knew that could be unnerving for most humans. One heart turned. That was something. Even if he reached not one person more from this crowd, that would be a beginning. But
as he cast his gaze over the crowd, he saw more heads nodding in agreement with what the woman said. Garul wanted to weep with relief. The pain of what his people had done to this world, coupled with their willingness to sacrifice themselves to save his people anyway, was a burden he carried with him daily. Heavy as a mountain, it rested squarely on his shoulders to find ways to make amends. He alone was authorized by his people to find a way forward with Earth.

  Was that burden now the tiniest bit lighter? He wasn't sure, but he thought so.

  A man's voice burst from somewhere deep within the crowd. “Oh, HELL no! We are not buying this lizard's bullshit. They killed my whole family. Burned them alive inside our home. I say, kill 'em all!”

  Garul took half a step back, ready to pop his head armor up. Behind him he heard soldiers readying weapons. The crowd parted, letting the speaker through to the front. Garul knew him at once. It was the man who'd shot him, the night before. The one Owen called 'Eric'. He was back, a pistol in one hand. But worse, he had what appeared to be a bomb strapped to his chest.

  Twenty-Six

  Eric had heard just about all he could stomach of the lizard's posturing. He was sorry? Sorry??

  That didn't cut it, not in his book. Sorry was nowhere near good enough to make up for the loss of his wife and children. He felt every word the Naga spoke like it was a dagger being plunged into his gut. Every line of bullshit that monster said was a reminder of all that these aliens had taken from him. He shouted and shoved his way through the crowd of sheep. That's all most of these people were, it turned out. Sheep-people. Sheeple. Just willing to believe any lie they were told. He could see it in most of their eyes. They were ready to be led to the slaughter.

  He reached the front row and stood there in plain sight of all the soldiers, daring them to do something to him. He whipped out his pistol but held it loose at his side. The bigger threat was what he had strapped to his chest. He'd kept the bomb hidden under a light jacket, so the drones wouldn't spot it. But the time for staying out on the sidelines was over. He needed to act now, before the lizard had everyone eating out of his hand.

  “Yeah, it's a bomb,” Eric told the soldiers aiming weapons at him, tapping the device strapped to his chest. “Shoot me. Go ahead. I dare you.”

  He heard gasps from the crowd behind him. People took several steps back. Some took a lot more than that. He heard the sound of pounding feet as a few people dashed away, but the mass of human beings was just too densely packed. It would take a good minute for word of the bomb to even reach the back of this mob.

  The woman who'd allowed her child to talk to the alien backed away from him, too. But she backed up toward the soldiers. The lizard took a single step that placed him partway between Eric and the little girl he'd been chatting up.

  That girl looked an awful lot like his own Lisa, a thought which caused Eric a pang of guilt. He was frightening her, even putting her in danger. That wasn’t something he’d wanted to do. But then, Lisa was gone, wasn’t she? KIlled by the Naga. Eric snarled at the memory of his daughter and why she was lost to him. There could be no mercy for these creatures. He had to strike a blow against them. Fight back. If it cost his life, what was wrong with that? He'd be with his family, and at least he'd have done something to avenge them.

  “Yo, Jim,” Eric called over his shoulder. “You with me?”

  The big man who'd given him a light earlier was right there at the front of the crowd. He shook his head, eyes wide. “No way. You crazy, man.”

  Damn it. Weak-minded shitheads, all of them. Eric called out to the woman he'd met earlier. “Jill?”

  If she was close enough to hear, she didn't reply.

  “Paul? Graham?” Eric rattled off the names of others he'd spoken with during his long wait. All of these people had agreed to help him kill lizards, damn it! They'd gone through the crowd, spreading the word and pumping up the mob's anger. They'd lit the spark for him, gotten all of these people riled up to the point of open fighting. But now that the time had come for real action, where were they?

  Anyplace else, that was where. He was alone again. No one was going to have his back on this. Eric's head sagged as the realization that no help was coming sunk in. He'd figured that with the bomb and a few armed protesters, maybe they could make some demands. At least get his people out. Ideally, kill the damned alien too. Although it seemed like they were hard to kill... Unless he was way off, that looked like the same one he'd shot the night before. It was hard to tell; they all looked like talking dinosaurs to him.

  There was a general standing near the alien. Eric couldn’t count the stars on his shoulders from where he stood, but there were more than two. Someone high up, then. The general took a step forward and spoke. “Son, I think you’re all alone out there on that limb. Time to climb down.”

  “That’s fine by me. If I’m the last real patriot standing here, then I’ll stand alone,” Eric snarled. “I want my friends released right now!”

  The general shook his head. “Not going to happen. They tried to break into a military base while armed. Some of them shot or damned near blew up a few of my people. They’re going to be seeing the inside of a cell for quite a while, I think.”

  The words were unspoken, but Eric knew that was what the man had in mind for him, too. He wasn’t going to let that happen, though. If it came down to it, he’d just run straight at the Naga and blow his bomb. Surely that would do the trick, even if a bullet hadn’t been enough!

  He scanned the soldiers facing him. One on his right moved a little closer, so Eric raised the hand that held his detonator where everyone could see it. The crowd behind him continued pushing back as quickly as they could, but they were all still well within the blast radius. The bomb he’d rigged used up everything Larissa had left. One really big boom with a few thousand small ball bearings firing off in every direction at once.

  The general waved his man back. The soldier complied, so Eric lowered his hand again. “Smart move. We don’t want anyone getting hurt, right? So let’s just get my friends out of whatever hole you shoved them in and then we’ll talk.”

  The general nodded to a guy wearing captain’s rank who stood next to him. The captain took a few steps back and got on his radio. Eric couldn’t make out everything he was saying, but he caught the words ‘prisoners’ and ‘bring them’. It was working! He knew it. They couldn’t risk losing their precious alien visitor.

  That was reinforced when the general put a hand on the Naga’s shoulder. “Time to go.”

  Eric shook his head. “No way. The lizard moves before my friends arrive, I blow the bomb.”

  The general removed his hand and shot Eric a glare that would have struck him dead on the spot, if looks could kill. Oh, he was mad! Good. He wasn’t losing the chance to take out the lizard. Not for anything.

  Movement behind the general caught Eric’s eye. It was the kid, from last night! McInness, his name had been. The kid slipped past the general and took a step toward Eric, who raised the detonator again in response.

  “I’m not kidding!” Eric said. “I’ll blow us all up!”

  McInness raise his hands, palms facing toward Eric. “I know you’re serious. I never doubted your resolve, not for a moment. But I have to show you something important.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Walking toward a bomb-wearing maniac was really low on Owen’s list of preferred activities. In fact, he couldn’t think of many things he’d like to be doing less. Walking down into a Bug nest in his skivvies came to mind, but he was drawing a blank on much else. Each step forward required a massive effort to look calm and collected while his knees told him all they wanted to do was knock into each other.

  The thought about the Bugs gave him an idea, though. Eric was an awful lot like him. Like he had been, anyway. The man had lost family to the Naga attack, same as Owen. Just like him, Eric had used that fury to drive him onward. Owen had funneled his rage into achieving a slot in the Air Force Academy. If he hadn’t let t
he anger slip out one too many times, he might still be there. But he had, and in retrospect that was the best mistake he’d ever made.

  If it hadn’t been kicked out of the Academy, he'd still be just like Eric: so full of anger that it was consuming his entire life. It wasn't that Eric had nothing to be furious over. Owen knew all too well what it was like to lose your entire family to a Naga attack. No, his anger and grief were justified. But they were eating him up from the inside out. Owen saw in the man a reflection of everything that he might have become, had Hereford and Garul not changed the course of his life.

  “Eric. You know my background,” Owen told the man. “You researched me, remember?”

  “Yeah, and it turned out to all be bullshit. You were lying the whole time!”

  Owen shook his head. “I wasn't. Every word I told you about my family was the truth.”

  “And you turned on us anyway?” Eric spat. “Your family must be rolling over in their graves, then.”

  The thought made Owen wince for a moment. His resolve cracked, just the smallest bit. Was making peace with the Naga a betrayal of his family? Then his dad's voice came back to him. There was a day they were out at a corner market. The guy behind the cash register was someone from the Middle East, or thereabouts. Owen never did find out exactly. The customer ahead of them in line had called the man a 'rag-head'.

  Owen's dad slipped forward, grabbed the man in an arm- bar, and rough-walked him out of the store. Owen remained behind while his dad proceeded to dress down the man he'd just hauled off like a sack of potatoes. When his father returned to the store, the clerk tried to thank him by giving his order to him for free, but Colonel McInness wouldn't hear of it. He paid for his stuff and left. On the way home, he explained to Owen why he’d done what he'd done. He'd recognized the man as an Airman from his base, so he'd used the moment to give him a little attitude adjustment.

 

‹ Prev