Man of War (Rebellion Book 1)

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Man of War (Rebellion Book 1) Page 11

by M. R. Forbes


  Diaz lifted her right hand to take the knife. Donovan pulled it away. The clone could have used the chance to try to escape, but she didn't. She continued to lay beneath Diaz, sobbing.

  "No," Donovan said. "She might be useful. Yeah, great, we can open a door. We might need a little more than that to get out of here."

  "D-"

  "No. It's my decision. Look at her."

  "It."

  "Her. Genetically, she's a human just like us."

  "No, she isn't. She's a machine. The enemy."

  "She isn't trying to get away, and she's terrified."

  "Oh, please. They're probably programmed to cry crocodile tears in self-defense. Please give me the knife."

  "No. Get off her. That's an order, Lieutenant."

  Diaz and Donovan stared at one another. Then Diaz reluctantly rolled off the clone.

  Donovan held the knife over her. "If you scream, you die." He pointed it at her and then pantomimed cutting his throat.

  "I understand," she said.

  Donovan felt a chill at the shock of her words. "You speak English?"

  "I speak seven human languages. English, Spanish, German, Japanese, Chinese, and Arabic." She stared up at him. "I've never met a human before. Your interaction with one another is intriguing."

  "Who are you?" Diaz said, clearly confused.

  The clone sat up, moving slowly and wiping the tears from her eyes. She seemed much less frightened now that she knew they weren't going to kill her.

  "My name is Ehri," she said, her voice putting an odd emphasis on the 'eh' that sounded more like a growl. "That was Tuhrik. He was my Dahm."

  "Dahm?" Diaz said.

  "It is difficult to describe in your tongues. Not a master because that would suggest I am a slave. Not a partner because he did hold dominion over me." Her face wrinkled slightly. "More like a commanding officer." She looked at Diaz. "You called your husband Major. Is he also your commanding officer?"

  "Husband?" Diaz said.

  "I have read many teachings on the topic of human culture. It was my duty as second-" she paused, trying to think of a suitable word. "Scientist. Tuhrik was a scientist. I was his most senior assistant."

  "I'm not her husband," Donovan said. "What kind of science do you do?"

  "Alien sociology and genetics."

  It took Donovan a second to realize when she said alien, she was talking about them.

  "Why does a geneticist need to read about human culture?"

  "It is one thing to emulate the biology of a thing. It is something else to understand the individuality. By understanding a culture, we can better assimilate it."

  "Individuality?" Diaz said. "You're a clone. One of thousands. All exactly the same."

  "You are wrong in that, Lieutenant," Ehri said. "Yes, there are hundreds who share my identical sequence of DNA, sampled many years earlier from a human that the Domo'dahm - that is something akin to a King, or Prime Minister, or President - found very compelling. However, there is only one Ehri who is second to Tuhrik. I have earned that distinction through the value of my work under him. If we were all the same, there would be no distinction made between us."

  "What about the soldiers?" Donovan asked. "The clones sent out to hunt us?"

  "They are simpler creations, yes. Even they have an individuality. It is only less defined."

  "You said assimilate. Is that what the Dread do? Invade planets, kill billions, and steal their culture?"

  "You have long called us the Dread. We are known as bek'hai. That was not always our way, but like humans, we have evolved to suit our need for self-preservation. Our home planet became uninhabitable. We were forced into scientific reproduction to cover our losses, which were many. These clones of ourselves were flawed, unable to reproduce naturally, and so we continued to make copies. Our genetic diversity was lost, and we needed to find an intelligent species to help us restore it. We found Earth."

  "You could have asked for help," Donovan said. "Instead of destroying our civilization to save your own."

  "It was the Domo'dahm's decision to take it. He rationalized that humankind would not allow such use of its own. Despite your petty differences, you are a species that is very loyal to one another."

  "We are, aren't we? You say that like it's a bad thing."

  "Not at all. Perhaps if we were more alike, our situation would have been avoided."

  "So you screwed up, and we have to pay for it?" Diaz asked.

  "Yes."

  She said it simply and without emotion. Donovan had to move in front of Diaz to keep her back.

  "You bitch," Diaz said.

  "Lieutenant," Donovan said, grabbing her. "Get a grip on yourself."

  It was the perfect opportunity for Ehri to steal his knife and stab him in the back of the neck. She didn't. Instead, she waited while Diaz backed up.

  "You aren't afraid of us," Donovan said. "Why?"

  "You've already expressed your desire to keep me alive, and I have never met humans before. The original collection was completed before I was made. We know much about humankind before we arrived, but little of how you have adapted to our occupation, other than that you have continued to resist it despite your obvious technological inferiority. The Domo'dahm does not find such intellectual endeavors worthwhile, but Tuhrik believed they were invaluable. He might have even spoken with you, had you not killed him."

  "You don't seem too upset that we did," Donovan said.

  "Our future depends on replacing the drumhr, the intermediate genetic splicing of bek'hai and human, with a new, more robust iteration. We are closer than ever to achieving natural reproductive capabilities once more. Tuhrik would be satisfied to know that this conversation occurred as a result of the end of his life."

  Donovan could barely believe it. There was no human alive that would be so willing, no, almost happy to be captured by the enemy. Yet here was this clone telling him that she thought to be here with them was a good thing, and that her CO would have approved. The concept was more alien to him than the corpse on the floor a meter away.

  "You are fortunate that you attacked Tuhrik," Ehri said. "Most of the bek'hai do not share his opinion of humans. They resent that they required you to survive. They resent the physical weaknesses that you have burdened them with, such as the need for oxygen. We had to construct the regeneration chambers to restore them to health on a daily basis."

  Donovan looked back at the clear enclosure. He had been right about its purpose. "Burdened them with?' he said. "They could have picked a different planet."

  "There was no other planet. Intelligent life is not rife throughout the universe. There is one other that we know of, and they would have defended themselves easily against our assault."

  Donovan wasn't that surprised to hear there were other aliens out there. He was surprised to hear that they were even more powerful than these aliens.

  "I don't suppose they'll be dropping by Earth anytime soon?" Diaz asked.

  "No."

  "You aren't worried about telling us all of this?" Donovan asked. "We've been fighting for years to get even the smallest shred of intel, and you've just spilled it all like it's no big deal."

  "We have never sought to hide our nature from humankind, or you would know nothing about us at all. We did what we had to do, as you have done what you must. I don't know what brought you here, or how you got through our walls, and I don't care. That is a question for the military to worry about. I am a scientist, Major. I seek knowledge and understanding that will better the goals of my species. That is what I was made to do. That is my motivation for being. Considering that, how might I best understand you if you have no platform from which to understand me?"

  "Fair enough, I guess," Donovan said, feeling every bit as inferior as Ehri claimed they were.

  Her motives didn't align with the human way of thinking. She was talking to them, the enemy, for no other reason than to use the experience as some kind of scientific study. It was crazy.

>   "Besides, Major, this may be my one and only chance to further my studies and come to a true understanding of current human culture before you are eliminated. The Domo'dahm has decided that the remnants of humankind are to be exterminated within the year. Even if you manage to escape, you will not survive for long."

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Gabriel's eyes swept across the chamber, taking a quick inventory of everyone present. It had been two years since he had last been to a Council meeting.

  That was the time when his father was awarded the Medal of Honor and honorably discharged from active service.

  He could still see the scene in his mind. His father was newly injured, grimacing in pain and cursing up a storm while the Council tried to tell him why it was a good idea for him to retire.

  "I have no intention of retiring until the day my chest stops rising and falling for good," Theodore had said. "Pain ain't nothing but a reminder, and I've been reminded of what those alien bastards did every day since we left Earth."

  The last time, Gabriel had sided with the Council. His father was seventy-eight years old, and to be honest, the accident had been his fault. He didn't have the vision he once did or the mental acuity. He was a danger to himself and those around him. It was sad but true.

  He winced involuntarily as he recalled the way his father had chewed him out for taking the Council's side. Theodore had called him every bit of Cajun slang he had ever heard, and when he was done with that he had switched to English. Gabriel had taken it, sitting and letting his father dump all of his anger and hurt and frustration on his shoulders. He had stayed while the General had bawled into his hands. He had left only once his father was out of energy and asleep.

  It had taken four months for him to work up the nerve to go back.

  Most of the Council was already assembled. He hadn't been in front of them since the last round of elections, and he only recognized half of the faces. The council was always made up of twelve people. Six men. Six women. Two pairs each from Alpha, Beta, and Gamma settlements. Ten of them were present, along with General Cave, Colonel Graham, Major Choi, Captain Sturges, and three people Gabriel didn't know. Well, two. He recognized the younger man as the one from the pod. The scientist. He guessed the other two were scientists as well. A man and woman, young enough to have been born in the Calawan system and old enough to be one of the first.

  "Captain St. Martin," Major Choi said, noticing him at the back of the room. She went back to meet him.

  "Major Choi," Gabriel said, saluting.

  "We're in the Council Chambers," Choi said. "We're all civilians in here. People of the NEA."

  Gabriel smiled. "Right. How have you been, Vivian?"

  "Not bad. I'll be better once this business is done. Are you ready to hit them where it hurts?"

  Gabriel had spent the last three days trying to work out everything he would say. He had written the beginning of a speech and erased it over one hundred times. In the end, he decided he would wing it and just say whatever came to mind.

  "As ready as I'll ever be."

  "I went to see your father before I came here," Choi said. "He isn't looking too good these days. Sabine said they had to increase his dosage to keep him calm."

  "I saw him a few days ago. It's this bull that's killing him. He and General Cave used to be best friends. Now he sees him as a traitor."

  "It's a shame when people wind up on opposite sides of something like this. I have a lot of respect for General Cave, but he's wrong. Plain and simple."

  Gabriel noticed General Cave looking his way at the same time Major Choi said it. He smiled and nodded politely to the General, not making the mistake of saluting him as he had Choi. He would never lose respect for the man, but that didn't mean he was on his side in this particular battle.

  He felt a soft breeze behind him, turning to find the two missing Council members at his back. They were easy to identify by the simple medallions they wore around their necks. He knew them both. Charles Ashford and Lucille Guttmann. They had both been part of the Magellan's maiden flight, and advanced age had left Charles overweight and Lucille walking with a cane, which was the reason for their late arrival.

  "Gabriel," Lucille said, smiling. "I didn't expect to see you here."

  "Hi, Gabe," Charles said.

  "I didn't know you two had been voted onto the Council," Gabriel replied. "It's good to see you both. How long has it been?"

  Charles laughed. "I think you were still in diapers, the last time I saw you."

  "Come on, it can't have been that long."

  "No, but you were Second Lieutenant St. Martin at the time."

  "I didn't realize it had been so long."

  "If you'll excuse us, Gabriel," Lucille said. "We're already running late, thanks to my useless old rear end."

  Gabriel smiled and moved out of their way, taking a seat next to Major Choi. Colonel Graham joined them a few seconds later.

  "Colonel," Gabriel said, giving him a larger nod than he had General Cave. They had taken the BIS down together earlier in the day.

  "Gabriel." Graham's face was grim.

  "Is everything okay, Colonel?" Gabriel asked.

  "I hope so."

  Gabriel didn't like that kind of reaction from someone who was supposed to be his ally in this. "What's going on?"

  "God gave me the answer I was looking for," Graham said. "It wasn't the answer that I wanted."

  Gabriel was about to ask him what he meant when the echoing bang of one of the medallions on the table at the front of the room called the meeting to order.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The Speaker's name was Angela Rouse. She was the youngest person on the Council, the same age as Gabriel and one of the biggest critics of the NEA's military arm. Gabriel knew that no matter what he said, she would never vote in favor of remaining behind. He was okay with that. She wasn't the only person whose vote mattered.

  Of course, Colonel Graham's attitude beside him was leaving him lacking in confidence about their chances. Something had changed since Captain Sturges had dropped them off earlier. Some new information had come to light. What?

  "I am hereby opening the fifth meeting of the twenty-third New Earth Alliance Council," Angela said. "Are all Council members present and in sound mind and body?"

  "We are," they all responded.

  Angela reached down and tapped a key to start recording the meeting. "This is an out of cycle meeting to discuss certain information that has come to light in recent days regarding both the activity of the NEA Space Force and the future of the civilian population of the NEA. The goal of this meeting is to hear from relevant parties and arrive at a decision. Either remain in the Calawan system and continue our surveillance of Earth or recondition the starship Magellan once more to carry all surviving members of the NEA to a newly discovered Earth-type planet, which will be referred to as Eden. Are there any questions before we begin the discussion?"

  There weren't.

  "Okay. I understand we will be hearing from Chief Astronomer Guy Larone, as well as Colonel James Graham to present both sides of the current argument. I'm sure I don't need to remind the Council that your decision should be made from your perspective of what is best for every member of the New Earth Alliance, and not from any past loyalties, friendships, or nostalgia."

  "Angela," Captain Sturge's wife, Siddhu, snapped. "We're well aware of our responsibilities."

  The two women made sour faces at one another, giving Gabriel a feeling this meeting was going to be more contentious than he had expected. It seemed the Council was already well divided on the issue.

  "Colonel Graham, would you like to make your case first?" Angela asked.

  Gabriel glanced over at the Colonel, whose eyes shifted to avoid his. He turned his attention back to Angel as Graham stood and straightened his uniform. She had a pleasant look on her face.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  Major Choi could see it too. She put her hand on his arm, and they
looked at one another.

  "What's going on?" she mouthed.

  He shook his head. He didn't know, and he didn't like it.

  Colonel Graham reached the front of the room.

  "Thank you, Angela," he said. "Members of the Council, assembled guests." He turned to acknowledge them all, his eyes passing over Gabriel again. "I came here today to present an argument about the importance of the work the Space Force is doing, both in continuing the reconnaissance of Earth and in maintaining the status of the Magellan as a starship preparing for war. I came here to today to present Captain Gabriel St. Martin. He is the son of Retired General Theodore St. Martin, the man who saved the lives of everyone in this system, past, present, and future. He came here to present his compelling and impassioned perspective of our responsibilities to those we were forced to leave behind." He paused, his eyes finally finding Gabriel a dozen meters away. "Unfortunately, I can't do that."

  A tense silence followed, with every member of the Council appearing confused except for Angela. Gabriel sought out General Cave. His face was stone. Whatever was happening, he knew about it already. Of course, he did.

  "As you know," Colonel Graham continued, "Captain St. Martin returned from a reconnaissance mission three days ago. While our missions as of late have consistently resulted in an empty data recorder, we did finally receive another transmission from our brothers and sisters on the ground. It contained a recorded message from the Mexico based resistance, created by General Rodriguez based on a transcript he received from General Alan Parker in New York. I'd like to play that message for you now."

  Colonel Graham reached into his pocket and removed his tablet. He tapped it a few times and then placed it on the desk in front of the Council.

  A holographic image rose a foot above the device, spreading into a small but realistic visual of a man in a simple green uniform with a battered, tarnished pin on the chest.

  "My comrades beyond Earth," he said, his face tight. "My name is Colonel Christian Rodriguez. You have seen my face before, in transmissions dating back almost a dozen years. Since the Dread arrived over fifty years ago, we have been fighting the good fight, gathering as much information as we can and passing it on to you in hopes of one day finding a way to defeat their technology."

 

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