Peace Army

by Steven L. Hawk

  While the rest of society grew to accept and embrace the concept of “Peace,” the members of this group did not. Outwardly, they recited the Council line. In private, they resisted most of Earth’s new norms and quietly, but actively, planned their separation from the rest of the world.

  Resistance and planning took many forms. They gathered weapons and stashed them away. They accumulated land and farms in a centralized area in S’merca that would be their homeland. They selected leaders and took steps to promote their members to key posts and public offices.

  The most important step their members took was to volunteer for assignments at the re-training centers. After decades of effort, they controlled ninety percent of all re-training efforts around the globe. Once they gained control of the centers, identifying, protecting, and recruiting others like themselves was easy.

  The final component of their century-long plan fell into place when they put a Culture Leader on the Leadership Council.

  The group was only weeks from announcing their succession from the rest of the world’s Peaceful society when the Minith landed on Earth. That was eighteen years ago and caused them to put their plans on hold as all of humanity struggled against the alien invaders. Instead of announcing their separation from the world and setting up a homeland in S’merca, they shifted their focus to defeating the Minith.

  Grant and all of Earth knew the rest. It was already recorded in the annals of human history. The efforts of the Senior Scientist had saved the world from the Minith.

  What the citizens of Earth did not know was that Tane and his fellow homosexuals were again ready to come out of the closet. The fact that the Minith were interfering with those plans a second time was too much to bear. Instead of waiting, as they had years ago, they decided to take a different, more “cooperative” approach. In exchange for open acceptance of homosexuality by the Leadership Council, the secret organization would offer their assistance in any future fight with the Minith.

  Tane and Randalyn were offering the Council a good bargain, in Grant’s opinion.

  As Tane had so eloquently put it only minutes earlier, they had done their duty—now they wanted their reward. And they were unwilling to wait for the current emergency to sort itself out before getting it.

  If they did not gain acceptance and recognition, they would move forward with their plans to separate themselves from the rest of the world. Tane had made it clear to Grant that nearly two thousand of those fighters currently in the armed forces would go with them. And those who weren’t already in the army would join their side and take up arms if necessary.

  While Grant had no reason to deny Tane and his people their coming-out party, he had a very good reason to help them achieve it. If the scientist and the Culture Leader were correct, a lifting of the law against gays would result in more than fifty thousand new recruits. That excited him a great deal. The thought that those fifty thousand might form their own army excited him much less.

  Grant did what any sane man would do. He offered his full support. If they were ready to take up arms as soldiers in his Peace Army, he would do whatever he could do to make it so. Sending Mouse to speak with the Leadership Council on their behalf was the least he could do.

  Chapter 9

  Touchdown in under an hour. Glad he made it.

  That was Grant’s thought when Mouse pushed through the crowd of officers surrounding the command carrier.

  Grant raised a hand in acknowledgment of Mouse’s arrival, issued final orders to his assembled commanders, and sent them on their way. When the last one departed, he beckoned to Mouse and entered the carrier he used as his mobile command center.

  Grant flopped unceremoniously onto the nearest cushioned bench. He had not slept in more than twenty-four hours and wanted to rest a bit before the mothership landed.

  “You look tired, General,” Mouse observed as he performed a similar flop onto the bench seat opposite Grant.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t look all that fresh either.” Grant kicked his feet out, laid his head back, and closed his eyes. “But I don’t suppose flying across the Atlantic twice in as many days allows for much rest, huh?”

  “You got that right. I take it you haven’t slept since I left?” Mouse knew his commander well enough to know that Grant had spent the last two days preparing for the Minith mothership’s arrival.

  “Yeah, well, that’s why we get paid the big bucks.”

  Mouse kicked out his own feet and slouched down in his seat. “Whatever that means.”

  “So,” Grant opened with what they both were thinking about. “How did it go?”

  “I am the greatest of all time. How do you think it went?”

  “There was a boxer who fought fifty years before I was born. He was the greatest of all time,” Grant chided. “At best, you’re a close second.”

  “Yeah, well. Whatever a ‘boxer’ is, he must have been very good at it. Because I got the Council to agree to what you asked.”

  Grant opened his left eye just a crack and saw the slight smile pasted to Mouse’s face. He suddenly felt less tired. “Yeah?”

  “It wasn’t easy. But Culture Leader Randalyn Trevino helped push the vote our way. She can be very persuasive.”

  “I suppose it helps when you have a vested interest,” Grant added. “Plus, she didn’t get to be a Culture Leader because she lacks political skill.”

  “There is that,” Mouse agreed. “So, what do we do next?”

  Grant sighed and looked at his watch.

  “Well, with luck, we get to find out what Titan’s been up to for the past six years.” Grant pushed his body out of the seat and exited the carrier. “It’s almost time.”

  Mouse groaned and followed reluctantly.

  * * *

  Grant deployed his forces in a large ring around where the Minith craft was set to land. His subordinate commanders were instructed to stay a mile outside the scorched area that marked the landing spot. The five-mile radius of blackened earth was twice scarred; first, by the Minith ship’s arrival on Earth some eighteen years before, then again by its departure twelve years later.

  A little more than six years had passed since Grant had been carried off the ship by Mouse. Six years since Titan had knocked Grant unconscious and taken his place on a suicide mission to blow up the alien’s home planet using their own planet-killing device.

  Grant was anxious to discover what had happened on that trip. He looked up into the afternoon sky, watched in wonder as the Minith ship grew larger, brighter. Over the last six years, he had forgotten how large the mothership truly was, but those memories came rushing back as the vessel grew closer and closer. It was still a mile or more off the ground when Grant was forced to look away. The light from the burners was like looking into the sun, and the sound was an ever-expanding explosion of white noise. The intense heat grew—as did the smell of the newly burned landscape. Grant turned and shaded his eyes with his right hand.

  The brightness and sound continued to expand. The temperature continued to rise with each passing second, becoming almost unbearable. He suddenly worried that posting his men a mile outside the burn path might not have been sufficient.

  The overbearing disharmony of light, sound, and heat vanished without preamble. The resulting vacuum of normalcy washed over Grant like a cool wave. He turned to find the Minith mothership in its former place; a scab of alien technology sitting upon a freshly scorched circle of Earth.

  He keyed his communication device. “All units, move forward. Be careful—that ground will still be hot.”

  He waited for confirmation that his forces were moving up as they had planned. The circle around the ship began to tighten from a six-mile ring to a two-mile ring. He waited several minutes for a response from the alien mothership, but none was forthcoming.

  So far, so good, he thought.

  He entered the command carrier, closed the hatch, and gave a signal to the pilot to move out before settling in for the short hop to the
ship. Grant knew that Mouse would be circling closely by in his fight carrier, alert for any danger. He searched the sky outside, but couldn’t see the fighter. The gigantic Minith vessel was easy to spot, though, so Grant turned his attention to that. He grabbed the set of binoculars he kept close by and focused them on the ship.

  The carrier cautiously closed the distance and Grant watched as an opening appeared on the left side of the ship. It looked to be the ship’s launch bay—the one Grant and his team had used to enter the ship six years previously. He instructed the pilot to maintain a holding pattern two miles from the ship, then watched and waited.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  Titan calmly stepped onto the deck of the opening and waved at the military vehicles he saw circling the ship. Through the binoculars, Grant saw a tired smile on the large man’s face. He looked older than Grant remembered, but appeared healthy, strong, and vibrant. Grant lowered the binoculars.

  “Everyone, hold your positions,” Grant spoke into his communication device. He turned to the pilot.

  “Take us in.”

  Chapter 10

  The carrier touched down a hundred meters from the alien ship. When the skids hit the ground, Grant was out the door. The craft immediately lifted off and retreated to a point behind the military forces circling the alien ship. Grant did not want anyone else approaching the ship just yet. Despite the initial assurance from Titan, foul play was still a possibility.

  Grant moved quickly across the newly blackened ground. His eyes darted across the ship’s exterior, which filled his vision from side-to-side, and towered above him. If pressed, he would have estimated the ship’s height as equal to that of a six-story building. He tried to peer into the large, gaping entrance where Titan stood waiting, but the darkened interior gave up no secrets. There could be a thousand Minith soldiers and scores of Minith aircraft waiting inside.

  But there was nothing he could do about that now. It was what it was.

  As Grant drew within thirty meters of the ship, he focused his attention on the man he had known for less than a month, six years ago.

  Titan was just as massive as Grant remembered. He stood just a shade more than seven feet tall; his chest and shoulder muscles strained the seams of his shirt. The shirt appeared to be a made from some type of heavily grained, orange-tinted leather. Titan’s pants and knee-high, soft-soled boots were made from a similar, though lighter, shade of leather. Grant assumed the material was dyed, as no animal that he knew had such strange skin. Then again, Titan had spent the last six years somewhere other than Earth.

  Grant made a mental note to ask Titan about the material. But first, there were more important things to discuss.

  He raised his hand in welcome. Titan was smiling broadly—almost to the point of laughing, Grant thought.

  “Ah. Little man, how have you been?” Titan’s deep voice rumbled. He jumped down from the bay entrance—a drop of just over a meter—and strode forward with his right arm outstretched.

  “Don’t make me kick your ass again,” Grant replied tersely, closing the final few steps. He ignored the offered hand and wrapped his arms around the giant man’s shoulders instead.

  Titan tensed, then relaxed and returned the embrace.

  “Ha. I can see that you missed me.”

  Grant released the big man, then stepped back and looked up into Titan’s pleased countenance.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I’ve got a lot to thank you for.”

  Grant thought about the past six years and everything he had enjoyed with Avery and Eli. It was all because of this man. He was supposed to have been on the alien ship when it left Earth.

  “So what you are saying is that you owe me a debt,” Titan replied. The glint in his eyes and the smile on his face told Grant he was being set up for something. He realized he didn’t care.

  “I believe you are correct. I—and the rest of Earth—seem to owe you a great deal.”

  Titan’s laughed echoed back from the open bay, which Grant now saw was empty. His right arm snaked out and draped itself across Grant’s shoulders. He turned them toward the Minith mothership and, without warning and using very little effort, lifted Grant and tossed him onto the deck of the bay.

  “That is wonderful, little man, because I’ve got a story to tell.” He jumped onto the deck beside Grant. “And some favors to ask.”

  Grant tried to shake the feeling of a toddler being tossed around by a large baboon. He failed, but pretended that being manhandled didn’t bother him. He put his hand out to stop Titan from walking into the ship.

  “Before we go any further, I have to ask. Are you alone?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Yeah?”

  Titan must have noticed Grant’s sudden unease. “Don’t worry, Grant. There are no Minith here.”

  * * *

  The further they passed into the bowels of the alien ship, the more relaxed Grant felt. He was fairly certain any alien trap would have already been sprung if it were coming. If capture was the goal, there was no reason to allow him to proceed deeper into the ship.

  The metallic hallways looked both familiar to him and foreign at the same time. He had been inside a Minith mothership exactly three times before. All three of those visits were of his own accord and all were six years in the past. Grant’s unspoken question was answered when they reached the corridor that led to the ship’s command center. The blackened, pockmarked walls clearly showed the truth.

  This was the same ship. As if there had been any doubt.

  A strange sense of déjà vu engulfed Grant. He recalled the battle that had been waged in these hallways and in the command center itself. The alien bodies had been removed from the corridors and the purple blood had long been cleaned away. No trace of the dead Minith remained.

  “Here we are.” Titan paused outside the battle-scarred doorway to the ship’s control center. With a slight wave, he indicated Grant should precede him into the room. Grant nodded and obliged.

  He pulled up short upon entering the control room and looked at the three individuals in the room. Two were human.

  The third was not.

  Titan entered the room and stood next to Grant. He placed a hand on the ancient soldier’s right shoulder.

  “Have I got a story for you.”

  Part II

  Titan’s Story – Six Years Earlier

  Chapter 11

  Titan watched as Mouse carried Grant’s unconscious form out of the alien command center. He then flopped into one of the cushy purple chairs. He was careful to select one not wet with alien blood. His right hand hurt from hitting Grant in the side of the head, but it felt good at the same time.

  He owed the man a beating for what he had done to him in Violent’s Prison.

  At least he had gotten out of that godforsaken place. After spending the last eight years confined to those stone walls, the fact that he would soon be leaving Earth was a lot to think about—too much to think about. He studied the device he held instead.

  Strong enough to blow up a planet?

  Perhaps, but Titan had his doubts. He worried that Grant might have given the aliens more credit than they deserved. The Minith had never seemed especially smart.

  But what else could he do? Titan couldn’t let Grant leave Avery. Not after his promise to her that he would keep Grant safe. He hadn’t thought his promise would come to anything, but he had found himself in exactly that position. When Grant told Mouse what he planned—leaving Earth on the ship and blowing up the Minith planet when the ship arrived—he had to act. So he had clobbered the soldier when his back was turned and taken his place.

  A promise kept, a debt repaid, and a problem solved.

  The problem, as Titan saw it, was that he did not belong on Earth. He knew he would never fit into the society that existed outside the walls of Violent’s Prison. He wondered briefly how Grant would survive. He also knew that he would never willingly go back to
that prison. Ever.

  Getting off the planet was the best thing he could do. Therefore, problem solved.

  Using the edge of his tattered shirt, Titan wiped the remnants of purple blood from the device. He set it carefully on the console, next to the readout that counted down the time until the ship lifted off. Titan could not decipher the alien markings, but knew there could only be a few minutes left. He hoped Mouse and Grant made it to a carrier and away from the mothership in time. The miles of scorched earth surrounding the giant craft were evidence that its departure would be very dangerous. Distance was the only hope for any bystanders when it lifted off.

  Unable to control events outside the ship, Titan refused to think about them further. Instead, he took in the chaos and damage on display around him. The battle that had been waged in the ship was evident. Blackened, pockmarked walls, tattered alien bodies, and liberal splashes of purple blood marked the corridors outside. Inside the command center, half a dozen alien bodies littered the floor. Much of the bright purple blood those bodies once held pooled at his feet and spread across the floor. The human boots that had so recently waded through the pools left scattered tracks throughout the corridors on their way to the escape carriers.

  He would clean up the mess and get rid of the bodies right away. He wasn’t going to spend months in a ship with dried purple blood and decaying Minith soldiers scattered about.

  Titan felt the first tremble as the ship’s engines powered up.

  From side-to-side and floor-to-ceiling, the entire expanse of walls flickered as previously darkened screens flashed to life. Most of the screens on the left revealed dizzying bursts of alien writing and numbers. He assumed they provided information and data about the liftoff, but had no way to know. A few showed camera shots of internal corridors and rooms. The screens on the right wall, however, displayed live camera views of the outside of the ship. His eyes searched those urgently.