by Fonda Lee
All the Soldiers opened fire at the same time. The Hunter was thrown back into the console, jerking and convulsing, mottled armor spasming as it was torn apart under the onslaught of weapons fire. Two eyes cracked like breaking mirrors. Limbs collapsed like noodles beneath the torso. The gunfire fell silent.
Two Soldiers sprang over the sprawled humans, the monstrous corpses, and the body of the Rii Hunter to reach the central console. One of them tapped and manipulated controls with rapid ease, then let out a whistling sigh of relief. “Standing down orbital weapons.”
Donovan crawled to his knees. He hurt like hell, but he could move after all. Jet collapsed next to him, his face streaked with blood. Their stunned gazes met. The Soldiers were moving around the room purposefully now, dragging the bodies away, examining the displays and reestablishing communications control. One of them came over.
“Humans, if you can, either help or get out of the way.”
“Is it over?” Donovan’s voice sounded numb. “Did we win?”
The Soldier was not one that Donovan recognized. He studied the two exos for a moment, then his fins moved in a slight frown. He seemed to only now be realizing that it had not been Soldiers but humans who had reached and stormed the top of the Towers first.
“Yes, human.” The Soldier’s musical voice softened a fraction. “Earth is ours again.”
Donovan opened his eyes. It took several seconds for him to remember where he was. He was lying on a thin mat on the floor in the Towers. The battle—all of it—came back to him. Afterward, he and Jet had stayed on their feet for several hours past advisable, helping to clear the dead and wounded and to search the entire Towers for any remaining enemy.
At last the pain, adrenaline fallout, and sheer exhaustion had forced Donovan to stagger into this room. Thad and Cass had been evacuated to the medical wing, where the Nurses were already busily restoring operations, but exos who were less severely injured were being directed to temporary first aid rooms. A nurse-in-erze had given him fluids and applied packs of panotin replenishment gel to the damaged sections of his armor, and Donovan had fallen unconscious.
It was dark now. A faint amount of moonlight was coming from somewhere, but whatever power source normally illuminated the Towers was not working. Muffled noises rose distantly from elsewhere. The smell of burned explosives and scorched panotin still lingered unpleasantly in the air. Donovan lifted his head slightly and saw Jet lying on his side, fast asleep, a few feet away. He turned his head in the other direction and found himself staring up at Soldier Werth.
“I have been standing here trying to decide,” Soldier Werth said quietly, “whether to have you stripped of your markings and executed.”
It was not the sort of thing one wanted to hear from one’s erze master after fighting a pitched battle and surviving several near-death experiences. Weakly, Donovan pushed up onto his elbows. “You could’ve let Soldier Gur take care of it for you earlier, zun,” he said.
“No,” Werth said. “You know I could not have.”
Donovan looked around the room of sleeping exos. Some of them moaned or stirred restlessly. “What happens now, zun?” Donovan asked.
“With all the captured Rounds back in our control, Administrator Seir has declared Earth an independent planet. The troops that were moved into orbit to await transfer are being recalled to Earth. Tomorrow, Soldier Gur and all those from his erze will board their ship and be escorted out of the solar system to return to the homeworld.”
“What will Kreet do once they find out?”
“Under other circumstances, they would send warships to reclaim the colony. But I suspect the High Speaker will do nothing. According to the agreement that Soldier Gur negotiated with the Hunters, the Mur Commonwealth already ceded all rights over Earth to the Rii Galaxysweeper Chi’tok. There’s nothing more for the Homeworld Council to do about us.”
Donovan tried to swallow the dryness in his throat, then he sat up fully, and too quickly. “Zun Werth, who were—what were those people, those creatures that were guarding the communications center and the Chief Hunter? In the briefing you gave us, you never warned us to expect anything like that. Are they … human?”
Soldier Werth’s fins leveled in a scowl. “I didn’t warn you because until today I didn’t know they existed. The Rii are raiders; it’s common for them to steal biological resources. They alter and engineer life forms to serve their purposes. They’ve created several augmented servant species, which differ by Galaxysweeper, but this is the first augmented form I’ve seen that bears resemblance to humans.”
Donovan fought a shudder. “How’s that possible?”
“At some point in the past, the Rii must have managed to obtain human genetic material. It might have been from a stolen Mur ship with humans-in-erze on board, or a hijacked science vessel with samples from Earth. It’s even possible that some Hunters scouted this planet hundreds or thousands of years ago and took some specimens of interest with them. I suspect those fabricated creatures you saw are prototypes, brought here in the spore vessels for testing. They are no doubt distantly related to the human species, but they exist nowhere else except in service to the Rii.”
“But why would the Rii make them?”
“Humans are the most successful native species on this planet. When the Rii turned their attention to Earth more recently, they must’ve consulted their available biological stores and designed something they knew would survive well here, that would be useful to them during the period of occupation they expected to enjoy.”
Donovan fell silent. He searched within himself; in the aftermath of the battle he felt no great sense of triumph or joy, only deeply weary relief, and a hollow, nagging dread that wasn’t sharp or specific enough to put into words, but that clung like a film over the weave of his armor.
“So have you decided yet, zun?” he asked. “What you’ll do with me?”
Soldier Werth did not answer at first. Then, with a strain in his strumming voice, he said, “The early colonists took a great but visionary risk. It succeeded beyond their expectations. On no other planet that I know of has a second species become so integrated into the erze.”
Werth’s next words fell hard. “You placed me in a terrible position, Donovan. You, and your commander, and your fellow soldiers-in-erze.”
Donovan said nothing. The terrible position was mutual.
“We’ve gone down a strange and dangerous path. Few colonies in the Commonwealth have ever rebelled against the homeworld. Fewer have ever stood alone against the Rii. I have no regrets about betraying the Hunters, nor sending away Gur and those arrogant homeworlders, but I did far worse than that. Today I enabled and sent humans to kill zhree.” Werth’s fins fell motionless for a long beat before moving with great heaviness. “History, I fear, will judge me harshly.”
Soldier Werth walked away, the solemn gaze of two of his yellow eyes lingering behind. “Rest a little longer, Donovan. We are at war, and I need every good soldier I have.”
The Joint Planetary Defense Agreement was signed six weeks later between the erze zun of the former Mur colonists, human government leaders, and key representatives of Sapience. Commander Tate traveled to Perth to attend as a senior representative of the Global Security and Pacification Forces, and to his surprise, Donovan was granted a special invitation to accompany her to witness the historic event, which was already being referred to unofficially as the Second Accord.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it. You can thank the Prime Liaison for the invite,” Tate told him on the long flight over. Grudgingly, “It’s the least you deserve.”
Donovan hadn’t been sure he wanted to attend. He’d caught the highlights of everything thus far from the news: all over the world, zhree and human leaders were scrambling to deal with the damage to Rounds and human cities, adjusting to the idea of an Earth no longer protected by the Commonwealth, and coming together to strike new bargains. In West America, three months after the first failed nego
tiations in Round Three, Prime Liaison DeGarmo announced that the government had reached an agreement with the Human Action Party and its paramilitary affiliates in Sapience to cease hostilities and work together for the defense of the country and humankind.
Within SecPac, the news caused some stir of derision and skepticism, but there was less surprise than might be expected toward something that would’ve been unthinkable merely a year ago. “They had to do it,” Cass concluded.
Jet agreed. “Sapience has always promised people freedom if they kicked the colonists off Earth and overthrew the government. They can’t promise that anymore. They have to shift gears to maintain support from people, but it’s not as if they’ve changed their views about the zhree or exos. It’s just survival politics.”
The gathering in Perth would be the first global attempt to codify the new rules of the world. It was probably the most historic event Donovan would see in his lifetime. Truth be told, he’d rather watch it on the screen at home with Jet and Cass. The thought of getting on a plane and being separated from his erze mates again, even for a few days, caused Donovan’s chest to tighten with anxiety that made it hard to breathe. A lot of horrible things could happen without warning in a short time. He had a feeling the visceral knowledge of that fact would continue waking him at night for some time to come.
But when the day came, he went. It was where both of his parents would surely be if they’d still been alive, and it seemed important that he honor them in that small way.
He shifted in the airplane seat, trying to stretch his stiff back. “What will happen to Dr. Nakada?” he asked.
Commander Tate turned away from the window, swirling the ice in her glass. “He’s still recovering in the hospital, but he’ll be moved to a medium-security facility next week. We’re arranging to convert some space into a dedicated lab so he can begin the work he’s agreed to as a condition of his sentence. Starting with developing defenses against the weapons he made for Sapience.”
Donovan thought about the vial of experimental nerve agent in Javid’s possession. “And what about Warde?” he asked.
Tate’s expression soured. “Sadly, the execution he deserves won’t happen for a while, not with the political situation as it is right now. The Prime Liaison doesn’t want to risk antagonizing the True Sapience faction just when things are starting to settle down.” Tate turned back to the window, staring out at the clouds, her wiry hair a metallic silver in the sunlight, a preoccupied expression on her lined face.
“Ma’am?” Donovan said tentatively.
Tate turned back from the window. “What is it, Reyes?”
“You told me before that you didn’t think these sorts of talks would ever succeed. That we couldn’t reach a common understanding between humans on Earth.” How long ago that conversation seemed now. “Do you still believe that?”
Tate regarded him with eyes that had aged even beyond her many years. “Common ground isn’t found through talk. It’s what people realize they’re standing on together when it starts to give way under them.” One of Tate’s hands curled around the armrest, the lump of a vein visible under the pattern of stripes. “That’s what you did that day, Reyes. You shook the Earth.”
If he had, few people seemed to know about it. Commander Tate and Jet had been the only human witnesses, and they weren’t spreading the word, which was for the best. Donovan didn’t want or need any more notoriety. The news that he’d captured Kevin Warde was crazy enough.
As for the rest of it: The general story was that after the soldiers-in-erze made a united show of refusing evacuation, other humans-in-erze around the world began to follow suit. Given the emergency situation on Earth, the Mur colonists were forced to reconsider their plans to withdraw military forces. Facing severe pressure for assistance from human governments and growing tension with Kreet, the zhree zun broke from the Mur Commonwealth and sent a joint force of Soldiers and exos to expel the remaining Rii from where they were holding out under seige in the Rounds, thus precipitating the beginning of Earth’s new era of independence.
It was as complete and true a version as it needed to be, the sort of narrative that would make it into the history books. And to be honest, Donovan liked it as well as any other. His father would’ve approved.
Perth was the capital of Australasia and the nearest major human city to Round One, which was located three hundred miles inland to the northeast. Round One had repelled the initial attack by the Rii but had been reoccupied as a condition of Gur’s agreement with the Chief Hunter. A few days later, Soldiers and exos had fought and triumphed again as part of the coordinated counterattack against the invaders. The cost in casualties for all this had been terrible: nearly a thousand Soldiers, soldiers-in-erze, and civilian zhree and humans of various erze had been killed in Round One in one week. Roughly fifteen hundred people in Perth itself had died in the initial Rii missile attack. It was a sad and symbolic honor for all the leaders of the world to be congregating here, near the first established Round. For Donovan, it was strange and sobering to be reminded that others had suffered losses as great as his. Other exos had lost erze mates. Other people had lost family. Other soldiers had lost friends.
The final presentation and ratifying of the agreement took place in a large convention center auditorium. There was not much to do but sit and watch and clap. Donovan sat in a section of the theater with other SecPac representatives from other countries. They were all grim senior soldiers-in-erze who conversed with one another in low, serious voices. Donovan saw Commander Tate standing with Commander Li, engrossed in a long, intense discussion. The President of West America, as well as Prime Liaison DeGarmo, mingled among world leaders at the front of the vast room. Earlier, Donovan had spotted Saul in the hallway, wearing better clothes but still looking like a grizzled revolutionary general as he moved around with a contingent of suspicious-looking followers and bodyguards, greeting people that Donovan suspected had SecPac files to rival Saul’s own.
Strangest of all, though, were all the zhree in the building—more than he’d ever seen in one place outside of the Round. The many ring-patterned hulls of the Administrators blended together in Donovan’s eye so that he couldn’t even pick out Administrator Seir until he spotted Soldier Wylt’s pale eyes and Soldier Wiv’s distinctively notched fins hovering nearby. Translation machines were everywhere, burbling conversations from Mur into a dozen different human languages and vice versa and among the human languages themselves. Over a hundred years ago, the signatories of the Accord of Peace and Governance had hoped that Earth could become a peaceful home planet for both species. Looking around today, seeing humans of all races and nationalities and zhree of all erze, Donovan could almost believe it. Almost.
It was near the end of the day when he saw her. Sitting in a crowd always made Donovan restless and nervous, so he’d slipped out of the auditorium to go to the bathroom and stretch his legs. On his way back, he passed one of the many entrances propped open onto the aisle, and there she was. Standing just outside the door, arms crossed, leaning one shoulder against the wall. Everyone around her was in a suit, but she was in jeans, boots, and a loose gray shirt that draped open partway down her back. Donovan smiled; the dyed blond of her untidy hair was fading, growing out darker at the roots.
For a whole minute, he stood and looked and wondered whether to call out to her, and then, as if sensing him, she turned around. Her expression didn’t change at first. She straightened away from the wall and walked toward him, her steps slowly squeezing the space between them until, like a plastic bubble pressed between hands, it popped. Anya ran the rest of the way and Donovan caught her, and they were hugging each other so tightly they could barely breathe.
When they came apart, neither of them spoke at first. There didn’t seem to be any right way to begin a conversation. Anya said, “Let’s go outside. Get away from here for a while.”
They walked along the road to a green park by the river. It was springtime in this part of
the world and the air was pleasantly warm, the sky a uniform pale blue marred only by the distant vapor trails of zhree fighter craft and the haze that lingered over the parts of the city skyline destroyed in the Rii bombardment.
Anya scoffed, “Look at us. Big-time international diplomats.”
“We’ve come a long way, that’s for sure,” Donovan admitted.
Anya gazed out across the park to the glint of water. “This is supposed to be a nice city. It’s kind of dirty, if you ask me. But that might just be from all the bombs and fires and stuff.” She kicked at a chunk of rubble. “Still, this is the first time I’ve been out of West America. I wish I could stay longer.”
“Saul’s leaving right afterward, then?” Historic agreements or no, Donovan imagined that Saul Strong Winter would never feel comfortable with anything less than a hundred miles between him and the government, SecPac, and any shrooms. “Where will you go, after this?”
“I don’t know yet.” Anya chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe Colorado or Arizona. Somewhere the armies are gathering and organizing. There are lots of refugees fleeing from the bombed cities. I could help out there.”
Donovan nodded. “You’re good at that. Helping people, that is.”
“I’m sure Saul will want me to keep up the communications support too. It’s going to be even more important from now on.”
It wasn’t yet clear what would actually happen on the ground, but Sapience, as part of its agreement to cease hostilities against the government and the zhree colonists, had committed its immediate attention to civilian aid and organizing defense plans in case of further attacks on Earth. In exchange, thousands of moderate- and low-risk Sapience prisoners would be released from SecPac’s detention facilities and penal camps, and hundreds of thousands of names removed from SecPac’s target lists. Commander Tate wouldn’t like it one bit, but the move was as much in SecPac’s interests as Sapience’s. They had other problems to focus on.
