Bright Horizons

by Wilson Harp

  “Correct, General. They had declared it a criminal investigation, not an invasion.”

  Kyle thought for a second. “Correct me if I am wrong, Mister Smith, but if Earth is not a signatory of the treaty, then the treaty does not protect us.”

  “That is true.” said Smith.

  “However, since we have never signed the treaty, we are not constrained by the treaty, either.”

  “An unintended consequence of the Iltia’cor preventing you from being approached by the Council,” Smith replied.

  “I see. Would invading the Iltia’cor system cause problems for us if we were to later decide to sign the treaty?” Kyle asked.

  “That is an answer I cannot give you, but I might be able to let you speak to someone who could answer that, if you would like,” Smith answered.

  “Who?”

  Smith smiled and set a small silver disc on the coffee table. “A’nacal would be glad to speak with you, if you so desire. He is on the Higher Council.”

  “How would I speak with him?” Kyle asked. “Would I have to go to him, or would we meet somewhere neutral?”

  Smith touched the side of the disc and an image sprang up. It looked like a brown length of fabric draped over the back of a chair.

  “A’nacal?” Smith asked.

  A very purple, very alien looking face swung in front of the image. “Earth language? English? Must be my meeting with the Earthmen. What do you mean it’s on? Well turn it off!”

  Kyle heard something, probably an alien language, cut across the words at times and then the image went blank.

  He looked at Smith and pointed at where the image was.

  A few seconds later the image reappeared with the same face now centered in view.

  “I am sorry, I think we had some technically difficulties there. Let’s begin once more. My name is A’nacal and you must be General Kyle Hubert Martin, is that correct?” the image asked.

  “Yes,” said Kyle, clearly at a loss as to what else to say.

  “Well, General Martin. I am glad to speak with you. It seems that you have been busy making a mess around your edge of the galaxy. I appreciate a new neighbor with a sense of passion and adventure.” A’nacal said.

  “Thank you, but I can assure you that it was not our intention to make a mess. We are just trying to protect ourselves.”

  “And others as well. What a breath of fresh air, as you would say. In one of your sacred texts, you have a man asking of his creator ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ It seems that Earth has answered a resounding “yes” to that question, at least when it comes to the Hedali, the Pelod, the Calarians, and the others the Iltia’cor have conquered. Tell me, General Martin, does this come naturally to Earthmen? Because if so, then you must be very successful in suppressing this desire to help one another based on your history of war.”

  “I suppose some men find it an easier impulse to turn off than other men,” Kyle answered.

  “No, General Martin. The fact is that most Earthmen would not answer ‘yes’ to this question, they would answer ‘no’. Your faith in your race is commendable, but it is not adequate. I assume that Smith, as you know him, has told you of the bind that the Iltia’cor have found themselves,” A’nacal continued.

  “Yes, he explained it pretty clearly.”

  “Good, good. The Iltia’cor have asked the Lower Council to interfere. Some of their peers want to, but the Higher Council interceded on your behalf. The Iltia’cor stand alone against Earth. They picked this fight, and you fought back. I personally find it a great irony, and I love a great irony.” A’nacal made a noise that Kyle took to be a laugh.

  “But there are some restrictions we will put on you. Do you understand that these are not negotiable?” A’nacal asked.

  “I’m willing to listen to what you say, but not willing to give my word we will accept it,” Kyle replied.

  “Then listen. First, Earth will sign the Treaty of the Stars after you have dealt with the Iltia’cor. You will be required to learn and follow Galactic Law after that point. Second, non-military targets may not directly or indirectly be in your assault on the Iltia system. The fact that the Iltia’cor targeted some of your non-military facilities in their assault on Earth is the primary reason we have forbidden the Lower Council to interfere. Third, when the Iltia’cor concede in a formal manner to Earth, we will have one more restriction to put into place. I promise it will not be onerous nor in any manner dangerous to Earth, but we must establish precedence in this situation so that no other race decides to follow the actions of the Iltia’cor.” A’nacal settled back into his seat and waited.

  Kyle was concerned that there was something he was missing in what A’nacal said, but he couldn’t seem to find any wiggle room in the straight forward words.

  Kyle finally spoke. “A’nacal, thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. I believe that there is nothing in your restrictions that would not be amenable to our diplomats. We, of course, will need to read the Treaty of the Stars and decide on our own whether to sign it or not. And we will decide in our own interest whether the final restriction is something we can live with. But I think you will find us reasonable and good neighbors.”

  “The Junniji had some very astute observations about you, General. I mean Earthmen in general, but also you General, in specific.” A’nacal paused. “Your language is quite ridiculous, General. Are you aware of this?”

  Kyle nodded. “I have observed that myself on occasion.”

  “The Junniji compiled the report for us on what happened to precipitate the Iltia-Earth conflict. They were able to interview several of the Iltia’cor who were in the room when Kiltao Bregan decided to kill Doctor Emily Troy. Do you know why he did this, General?”

  Kyle had always wondered what happened in the minutes before the Iltia’cor commander picked up the surgical blade, and now he was speechless as he realized he was going to hear the cause of all of this death and destruction.

  “He was sure that the human circulatory system would seal itself when ruptured.”

  Kyle’s legs went out from under him. “So… so he thought she would be fine?” he said as he sat on the floor. He head was spinning with this implication. “So Alex killed him when he…”

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous. Even though he thought she would live, it was still a violent assault. I’m sure he would have let her bleed to death and laughed while doing so. No General, Alex Ramirez did the whole galaxy a favor by killing that over-pompous cretin. I am certainly glad we don’t have to deal with him.”

  Kyle slowly rose, a confused look on his face.

  “You didn’t know? The Hedali didn’t tell you?” A’nacal sighed heavily. “They always leave out details they think are irrelevant, but what is irrelevant to a Hedali is usually the most important matter. Kiltao Bregan was heir to the Iltia throne. They don’t actually have a throne, mind you, but that would be the easiest way to explain it using Earth idioms.”

  Kyle sat back down heavily.

  “Don’t feel responsible, General. None of the Higher Council places blame for this conflict on any Earthman. Blame is place directly on Kiltao Bregan.”

  Kyle shook his head a little as questions started piling up in his head.

  “Did you send us the engines?” Kyle asked.

  “No, nor did any other member of the Higher Council. As to who did send them, that is a secret that only they have a right to reveal.”

  “Why did you decide to talk to me at this time?”

  “Because of your brilliant use of tactics at Helku. I don’t have a military mind, General, but that was amazing! I have watched the transmissions of it multiple times. You Earthmen sure know how to put on a show.”

  “You wanted to speak to me because of our tactics?”

  “Not precisely. I needed to speak with you because of the results of your tactics. Once the Iltia’cor lost the gravity well generator, they became crazed with fear. They started pulling back into their system
and are frantically trying to assign blame on each other. You are on the verge of victory and they know it. Their only hope is that you will decide to abide by a reaty that you have never heard of before today.”

  Kyle nodded as he understood.

  “So General, do the Iltia’cor have any hope?”

  “No,” said Kyle. “They have no hope.”

  “I didn’t think so. But I felt that the Earthmen needed to know all of the facts before you made your assault. I didn’t want ignorance to be an excuse if you felt guilty later. If you destroy the Iltia’cor military, you will do so knowing that this is not acceptable to the civilized races. Are you still willing to do this?”

  “We will sign the Treaty after the Iltia’cor surrender, and not a moment before,” said Kyle.

  A’nacal smiled and his image disappeared.

  Chapter 18

  18 August 2044

  Kyle looked around at his room once again. A long history of writing lists never broke him of the habit of making a visual inspection of his room before he left for a trip.

  “Everything is in the car, Dad,” Sara said from the doorway.

  He turned and smiled at his daughter. “Thanks sweetie, I’ll only be gone for about twelve days this time. Make sure you don’t burn the house down.”

  Since the Iltia’cor invasion, Sara had moved home from college and taken up residence in her old room. While Kyle was certainly glad that she wanted to spend more time at home, he was fully aware that he was, in fact, not around near as much as he should be as a father.

  “The surrender should be soon, then a few days of treaty negotiations, then I will take some time off. Think about what you want to do when I get back,” he said as he hugged her

  “Italy?” She asked. “Or better, Sicily. We could go to Palermo and the ruins at Syracuse.”

  “That sounds incredible! What a great trip. I was thinking Disney World, but I guess you aren’t quite at that age anymore,” Kyle said as his driver, Sergeant Kinsey, started up the car outside.

  “Disney World! I didn’t think about that. Now I have a tough choice”

  Kyle laughed as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You go ahead and think about it and set it up. I’ll go wherever you want. I have to go now, sweetie.”

  “Ok Dad, be safe and come back soon,” she said with the same measured practice she had used since she was old enough to send him off into harm’s way.

  Kyle looked back at his house as he stepped into the car. It was about two years from being paid off. He shook his head at the thought.

  “Kinsey, I’m about to head to a battle 117 light-years away, onboard a ship that costs close to a trillion dollars to construct, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So why am I focused on when I will have my mortgage burning ceremony?”

  “Sounds like you have your priorities in the right place, sir.”

  Kyle smiled at that answer. It sounded to him like advice he frequently gave and rarely took.

  The ride to Dulles was pleasant for Kyle. James Kinsey was an excellent driver, both attentive to the road and to his passenger.

  Kyle pulled out his tablet and scanned the morning’s reports as he chatted with Kinsey. He was happy that everything was going well and that no new problems had popped up overnight.

  The majority of sleds were already hauling some supply scooters into position around the Iltia system in preparation for the attack. The planners had decided on four simultaneous points of entry into the system. Three cruisers and five scooters would be brought in at each point and attempt to hold the drop point as the sleds went back to bring in reinforcements. In all, forty cruisers and two hundred scooters would make up the Earth invasion fleet.

  If reports were correct, the Iltia’cor would have around sixty cruisers to hold their system, but eighty of the Earth’s scooters were essentially just giant railguns that had proved devastating to the Iltia’cor in each engagement. Kyle hoped that the Iltia’cor wouldn’t devise a counter to Earth’s big punch. If they did, Kyle was still convinced that the fact that the mosar based weapons of the Iltia’cor were useless against Earth’s ships would be enough to tip the balance of the fight.

  “We’re here, sir,” Kinsey said as he pulled the car onto a service ramp. A group of armed guards kept a wary watch on their vehicle as an officer approached.

  “I.D.,” the officer stated as Kinsey rolled down the window. Kyle handed Kinsey his I.D. card and waited as the officer checked the names on his list.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Kyle nodded to him and reattached the card to the front of his uniform. The concrete pillars blocking the way forward lowered into the pavement and the guards cleared off the ramp as Kinsey pulled forward into the dark tunnel.

  Kyle’s eyes were just adjusting to the dark when another ramp took the car back towards the surface and daylight.

  “I will never get used to seeing that,” said Kinsey as the small spacecraft came into view. The Hedali had given Earth four atmospheric transport vessels as part of their thanks for Earth liberating their home planet. One vessel had been assigned to Admiral Rider’s office, now headed by General Kitch, and she had made it available for Kyle to use so that he could spend a few extra days at home.

  Kitch and Chancellor Thomas were already on the Enterprise around Jupiter making last minute preparations for the surrender of the Iltia’cor and the signing of the Treaty of the Stars. Kyle would be joining them in around twelve hours and by the end of the week this war would be over.

  Retirement was never something that Kyle longed for or thought much about, but the idea of spending some real time with Sara and not worrying that he would leave her alone was becoming more and more attractive to him as the years bore down on him. Kitch saw that and ordered him to take a few days off and spend some time with his daughter. She couldn’t really order him, not yet anyway, but she had strongly suggested.

  Kyle smiled as he thought about the possibility that Kitch could soon be giving him orders officially. Her handling of Rider’s duties had impressed everyone as the Earth Council hesitated and wavered on who to promote to Supreme Commander of Earth Forces. For a while it was a choice between Kyle and someone who wasn’t the Butcher of Hyderabad. But in the last few weeks it had become more and more a choice between Kyle and General Diane Kitch. The Chancellor had requested they both be present for the surrender and the Treaty signing, and he had demanded that the Council decide whose name should be on the documents before they left Jupiter.

  Kinsey was already unloading Kyle’s luggage from the trunk as Kyle finally put away his tablet and stepped out of the car.

  “Sir?” Kinsey asked as he held up Kyle’s marine saber.

  “Part of my dress uniform,” Kyle said as he smiled back at the young marine. “Chancellor Thomas wanted us in our full regalia, so the saber comes.”

  Kinsey laughed and shut the trunk of the car. Kyle helped him move all of his luggage onto the small Hedali vessel and then shook his hand as he said goodbye.

  “General Martin, glad to meet you sir, I’m Commander Andrews and this is Lieutenant Leonard.”

  Kyle looked over and saw the two naval officers walking towards the space ship.

  “Nice to meet you, Commander. Lieutenant,” Kyle said as he shook both men’s hands.

  “Do you have everything stowed, sir?”

  “Yes Commander, I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

  “Great, let’s get on board and get going to Jupiter,” said Andrews, as they climbed the few steps into the craft.

  Inside, the small transport vehicle was more spacious than the size outside would indicate. It stood a mere twenty-three feet from nose to tail and just over twelve feet wide. At just under ten feet in height, it looked like it would be cramped, but Kyle didn’t feel like he was going to hit his head as he stood upright.

  Andrews and Leonard went to the forward part of the vessel and sat in the pilot seats. Kyle couldn’t call it
a cockpit as the entire vessel was completely open, except for a small sleeping compartment and lavatory. Kyle sat on the comfortable bench seat across from the entry hatch and stretched his legs out in front of him.

  He pulled out his tablet and checked for any news. It felt strange getting reports from several light years away in the space of minutes, but that’s what was happening. After the liberation of Kirtit, the Hedali had made several gifts to Earth; access to some drive and weapons technology, four small transport vessels that had atmospheric and faster than light communications capabilities, and six faster than light transmission rigs that could be set on a larger vessel or station.

  One of the transmitters was set up at Space Station Ellison and four others were set into scooters that traveled to the rendezvous points when an assault was planned, but were never taken into the systems that would see combat. The sixth was in New Mexico being carefully studied and reverse engineered.

  He would love to have one on Earth so that they would have near instant communication with Jupiter, but the delay would be worth it if the guys at Roswell could figure out how Earth could make the transmitters. If they succeed in that assignment, then delayed communication would be something the next generation would never have to consider when they planned trips across the cosmos.

  “Are we really at that point already?” thought Kyle. This morning he was discussing with Sara whether to go to Sicily or Disneyworld. In a few years the discussion would be what planet to visit on a vacation.

  Kyle sighed as he lost his train of thought and looked over to the pilots, barely hearing their chatter while he had been reading and thinking. He was surprised to see the dark sky dotted with the bright canopy of stars.

  “When did we leave Earth?” he asked.

  “We are just breaking through the stratosphere, sir. You were pretty deep in your reading I guess,” Andrews replied.

  Kyle stood and walked over to get a better look out the window. With the advanced artificial gravity adjusters on the Hedali ship, he never felt the acceleration of the takeoff.