The War of Pawns (The Human Chronicles -- Book Three)

by T. R. Harris

  He then left the room and proceeded further into the building. The CO had to know what he knew. Contingency plans had to be made.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Riyad Tarazi had the unique ability to make himself at home just about anywhere he went, and their new prison was no exception. He lay on a cot, his hands clasped behind his head with a pillow stuffed up against the wall, and absently watching the WAVY-TV 10 News on the flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Adam, for his part, still paced the floor.

  Finally, Riyad looked over at his roommate and smiled. “I supposed you wish you were back among the aliens now, where all your superman abilities could be utilized? They’re not of much use on a planet full of supermen.”

  “I don’t know how you can stay so calm, Riyad. There’s a whole lot of shit about to come down, and we’re being blamed for it.”

  “True, but what can we do about it? You tried to explain what we know, and your people had us locked away. Pretty soon they will learn that the Klin are not going to let anything, or anyone, get in the way of their plans. You and I are only tiny cogs in their overall scheme. At the moment, we just happen to be convenient scapegoats. Besides, even if we had convinced the men in that room that the Klin were manipulating both the Juireans and us into a war, what could they do? We are defenseless against the Juireans. They need the Klin.”

  “But the Klin could stop the destruction.”

  “That would not serve their purpose. They need us to be hurt, really hurt, so our hatred will carry us forward into this coming war.”

  “I realize all that, Riyad. It just pisses me off that there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

  “Then accept it, my friend. After all, we probably won’t be alive this time next week. What’s going to happen is going to happen, with or without us.”

  Adam stopped his pacing and stared hard at Riyad. “You don’t have any family left, do you?”

  The smile suddenly vanished from Riyad’s face, and his dark eyes grew even darker. “That may be true, Adam, but I’m simply being more pragmatic. I will be seeking peace with my god in the time I have left. I suggest you do the same.”

  “I just might do that, if I knew my wife and child would be safe after I’m gone, but they’re only seven miles from here. If the Juireans decide to take out the military bases in the area, this whole region will be cinders when they’re through. And Maria and Cassie won’t even know what hit them.”

  “Count that as a blessing, my friend. It’s much worse when you can see the bullet heading straight for your eye.”

  Adam sat down heavily on the other cot. He was exhausted. Nothing he had done or said since setting foot back on Earth had made a difference. Riyad was right. What’s going to happen will happen, and there was nothing he could do to change it. He lay back on the cot and closed his eyes, while Riyad went back to watching the news.

  Everyone in the world went about their business that day, living their lives as if nothing was about to change. Everyone that is except for the President of the United States…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Daniel ‘Danny’ Ryan had come into the Office of the Presidency only eight months earlier. His election had been a landslide, in part because of the universal acknowledgement that the previous administration was a complete and utter failure, but also because of his gutsy selection of Senator Emilio Adame as his running mate. The Latino Senator from South Florida, had excited an often-overlooked segment of the U.S. population, and they had rewarded Ryan with 82% of their vote.

  Ryan had easily carried both strong Republican and Independent majorities, and ended with a 332 Electoral College tally at the end of election night. The victory had been decisive, and his mandate genuine.

  With enthusiasm – as well as strong congressional majorities in both houses – President Ryan set about doing his best to set the country back on the path to pride and prosperity. Already he had passed several strong, business-friendly bills that had set a new tone for Washington, and unemployment had just recently dipped under 7% for the first time in six years.

  Things were looking up for the country, and for their new and exciting governing team of Ryan and Adame. Indeed, the future for America was looking very bright.

  And then Adam Cain returned to the planet…

  The President sat at the Resolute Desk, his head in his hands, slowing rocking back and forth. The four other men in the Oval Office sat silently and awkwardly in chairs placed in front of the desk, waiting for the President to regain his composure. The Secretary of State had just finished informing him of the contents of the meeting held a few hours earlier in the depths of the Pentagon. Now the President was digesting the most significant information any President had ever received.

  Ryan could vividly remember the day, a little over eight months before, when the Secretary of Homeland Security, along with the President’s National Science Advisor, Jerrod Llewellyn, had informed him that aliens really did exist, and that the government had been secretly working with them for many years already. It seemed funny now, but at the time Ryan’s first reaction had been that of disbelief, not in the existence of aliens, but rather disbelief that the prior administration had been able to keep it a secret.

  He just couldn’t believe the prior administration would have had that much discipline. That was unless they had not been informed! At the time, Ryan had snickered at the thought. Did even his own Homeland Security chief doubt that the president and his staff could be trusted with knowledge this important? If that had actually been the case, Ryan figured there was a treasonable offense in there somewhere, but he wasn’t about to question their reasoning.

  Yes, the shocking revelation had been disclosed to President Danny Ryan on the day of his inauguration, and he had been surprising calm about the whole affair. As an avid science fiction fan, as well as a strong supporter of scientific research of all stripes, Ryan had always believed in the existence of extraterrestrial life. He just had no idea he would live long enough to actually have it confirmed. But it had gone even beyond simple confirmation; Ryan had actually met with the Klin Ambassador on three separate occasions already, and had found the alien to be a polite and professional gentle- ‘man.’

  Yet at this very moment, President Ryan was feeling something completely different than awe and wonderment at the reality of alien life in the universe.

  Ryan raised his head, and his gaze took in the other men in the room. Then gathering his thoughts, he began, “So what have the Klin been doing for us all these years, if not to provide us with the means to defend ourselves against these other aliens – the Juireans?”

  Jerrod Llewellyn, the National Science Advisor was a Caltech alumnus, and had worked at JPL for a dozen years before entering the political side of science lobbying. He had met Danny Ryan eight years before, and Ryan had been immediately drawn to the energetic and brainy scientist. Recently, the two of them had begun to share many an evening together in the East Wing of the White House, watching special preview copies of some of the latest science fiction blockbusters, of which a whole new set was about to hit the theaters. Llewellyn was also always quick to point out the many fallacies in their plots and special effects. Still, Ryan had always enjoyed Llewellyn’s company – that is up until this very moment…

  “The Klin have told us all along that they did not come here just to hand over advanced technology to us.” Llewellyn began. “They are here more to guide us in the right directions. We have made great strides in electronics and miniaturization, along with battery technology, thanks to them. The new hybrid cars are a good example.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Jerrod,” the President said. “The Klin have known about the Juireans for thousands of years, and they knew there was a possibility of an attack from them. I read the report.”

  The report he was referring to was the accompanying documentation he’d received on January 20th of that year, regarding the existence of alien life. It had been prepared by the Klin, and went into co
nsiderable detail describing all the various players in the galactic game of chess, as well as the potential role the Human race could play. The report also spoke of the uniqueness of Humans as compared to the other intelligent races in the galaxy, of which he’d learned there were literally thousands – including the Juireans and their empire called The Expansion.

  Also in the report, Ryan had learned the truth about what had happened to the Klin at the hands of the Juireans. The report went on to extrapolate what the Juireans might do to the Humans, if they learned of their existence. It was not a pretty picture. The Juireans were a jealous and vengeful race, bent on eradicating any species they felt could be a threat to them.

  The Klin report had strongly recommended that the Humans keep their existence a secret for as long as possible, which was one of the reasons the Klin were reluctant to give Earth the technology for star travel. However, the report did highlight that at the normal rate of growth for The Expansion, the Juireans probably would not reach the planet for several hundred years.

  Apparently, the Klin estimate had been way off.

  “Mr. President, the Klin could not have anticipated the damage Adam Cain has done to their timetable. They had no reason to believe that defense of the planet would become a priority.”

  “Is there any a possibility their forces can get here in time to prevent the attack?” his question came across more as a desperate plea, rather than a legitimate inquiry.

  “Unfortunately, they are very apologetic, but equally adamant in saying no. The Earth will suffer an attack by the Juireans.”

  The mood in the room dropped to a new low.

  “Unless our mission is successful, Mr. President.” Matthew St. Claire leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on the edge of the President’s desk. “I just can’t believe a civilized race such as the Juireans would want to exterminate a race of people of which they’ve had no real contact.”

  “According to the Klin, the Juireans are not that civilized,” said the National Science Advisor.

  St. Claire looked over at him. “The Klin have a grudge against them. The Juireans may not be saints, but they do control an empire of several thousand worlds, and they didn’t exterminate all those races in order to control them.”

  “Yes,” Ryan said, nodding, “your mission must succeed. Matt, you must do everything possible to make sure it does. And I mean everything.”

  “Could you clarify that, Mr. President?”

  Ryan hesitated for a moment, locking his gaze on General Daniels. “You know what I mean. If the only way to prevent this attack is our unconditional surrender, then you have to take it.”

  “Mr. President!” General Daniels spoke up.

  “I know, General. This goes against every tenet of the military. But I’d rather see the Human race survive as slaves, rather than see it destroyed completely and forever.”

  “But the Klin may still get here in time so some of us can survive,” the Secretary of State pointed out.

  “And if they do, then maybe they can liberate us from the Juireans at that time, if it comes down to that. What’s important now is to stop the attack from ever happening in the first place. Again, gentlemen, you must do what you have to so that our race can survive.”

  The room was quiet for a long, solemn moment, until the President spoke again. “So the Klin will arrange for you to meet the Juirean fleet.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes, they will provide a ship and a crew,” said the Secretary of State. “They’ve already pinpointed a location near the outer boundary of the solar system for us to wait, and we will be broadcasting a continuous signal asking for a truce. There is no guarantee that the Juireans will honor it, but the broadcast will be in the Juirean language. Hopefully, they will be curious enough to stop.”

  “Of course, God willing,” said the President. He then rose from his seat and came around the desk. The first man he came to was Matt St. Claire. The SecDef reached out his hand to the President, yet to his surprise, Ryan instead hugged the man strongly. He then hugged the other three in turn.

  “Good luck, gentlemen. I know it sounds corny, but the hopes of the entire Human race go with you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Captain Nathaniel Allen had been with the SEALs since the mid-nineties. He was also a Mustang, starting out enlisted, and then converting to the officer corps through OCS in 2002. As such, he related well with all the men under his command, even if he demanded nothing but perfection out of each and every one of them.

  Nate Allen was also as tough as they came. He was an unquestioned patriot, a fitness expert, and a man with a purported IQ in the high 150’s. His name had already been published for advancement, and he was currently just awaiting Senate approval before putting on his star. Soon he would be Rear Admiral (Lower) Nathaniel Allen, United States Navy.

  Lt. Andy Tobias watched the distinctive vein on the captain’s left temple pulse rhythmically, literally mirroring the senior officer’s heartbeat. All the men in the command had come to recognize the vein as a warning signal when the CO was about to lose his temper – which was often. Tobias had come to accept the CO’s outbursts as simply training exercises. SEALs were expected to operate under the most stressful of situations, and what was more stressful than being dressed down by a superior officer? But this was no training exercise.

  “This is some bullshit, Andy,” the CO finally said after taking at least a minute to digest the information Tobias had just relayed to him. ‘Do you believe Cain?”

  “He has no reason to lie. He didn’t ask to be beamed up to an alien spaceship, or whatever happened to him in Afghanistan. And the others around him seem just as sincere.”

  “So, according to him, these aliens – the Juireans – are going to attack, and then these other aliens – the Klin – will stop them before we’re completely wiped out? Is that about right?”

  “Yes, sir.” Tobias said. “And I have to say, sir, you’re taking this news about aliens pretty calmly.”

  “I watch the movies, Andy. I never believed we were unique anyway. But now we’re caught up in some fucking power struggle, and about to be sacrificed like pawns in a chess game.”

  “I hope Adam is right about the Klin stopping the attack.”

  “And if he is, we have to be ready.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Allen leaned forward and picked up a pencil off his desk. He always had a yellow legal pad nearby which he would quickly sketch out strategies, maps, or just doodles. It helped him organize his thoughts. He began to scribble on the pad. “We have to assure that our men survive the initial attack,” he began. “You say these aliens – the Klin – believe the attack will be concentrated on population centers, and more-than-likely, military installations, airstrips and the like. Things they can easily see from space.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What we need to be prepared for is if the diplomacy fails.” Tobias knew Allen shared his same belief about the effectiveness of negotiations. “Andy, I want you to contact all the other CO’s of the Teams and get their men on standby. If the notice comes, I want as many of them as possible to beat feet for the nearest desert, mountain, wilderness or even ocean, that they can get to and to lie low until after the attack. Then arrange for a recall signal and rendezvous points for the Teams. Also, arrange for supplies to be transported out of the population areas and to these points.” He was scribbling on the pad, drawing lines and circles helter skelter on the page.

  “Aye aye, Captain. And what about Cain?”

  While devising the first plan, Allen’s disciplined mind had also been formulating a second. “After you contact the CO’s, I have another mission for you and your Team. In the meantime, I will be heading for D.C. I want to be front and center when these negotiations start. Be ready for my signal, go or no-go.”

  And then he started detailing the special mission he had for Tobias and his men.

  Chapter Twenty-One


  If it weren’t for the dire seriousness of the situation, Matt St. Claire would have been jumping for joy at the prospect of going aboard an alien flying saucer. Like most American males, he had spent a lot of his boyhood days dreaming of being an astronaut, or fighting aliens like Buck Rogers. And even when the practicalities of life and talent led him to his current occupation, he still enjoyed all the science programs he managed to catch. He was also an avid fan of blockbuster science fiction movies, as well as the Sci/Fi ebooks he was constantly downloading into his Kindle Fire.

  But now he sat in what was being referred to as the common room aboard an actual alien spaceship, accompanied by his three Human companions, along with a short gray thing with large black eyes, smelling like wet-dog and serving them drinks.

  Even though St. Claire had grown accustomed to being around aliens, it had only been the Klin that he had direct experience with, and the Klin were very human–like in their appearance. These other things, the Jakreans they were called, were entirely different. While the image of Jakreans was probably the most common depiction of aliens in Human culture, actually seeing one in the flesh was still a creepy experience – and St. Claire was having a hard time taking his eyes off the creature.

  The delegation had boarded the spacecraft in an isolated section of the base commonly referred to as Area 51. They had flown there aboard a military 757, and been hustled aboard the spacecraft almost immediately.

  The Klin Ambassador had been there initially to welcome them, and to tell them that the Juirean forces were now only a day away. The Jakrean crew would take them to a position located just outside the Kuiper Belt, approximately one light year from Earth. There would be a second ship on station to monitor the communications, if any, between the Juireans and the Humans, and to relay information back to Earth. Since traditional transmissions would not allow for the real-time display of information, this second ship would be linked to the Klin communication relays so that the President, along with all the other leaders of the world who had been brought into the loop, would know instantly whether the negotiations had succeeded or not.