Eto felt uncharacteristically fatalistic. He’d decided in favor of the humans, and yet he felt more certain than ever that they would die.
He would soon go to the LAX airfields and return to the temporary space station, from whence he would eventually return to Spo or perhaps a different base of operations. He might never visit Earth again, and he almost certainly would not meet these people again. They existed on the knife’s edge, and any day could be their last.
Eto stuck out his right hand as he had seen some humans do. “I also am glad to have met you. You have had more influence today than you realize.”
The gesture was excruciatingly human to Eto. The human reached out with his warm, moist hand, weak in itself, and gripped Eto’s clawed hand, although Eto could tear Aaron’s tendons out with a swipe. Eto did not know that he cared for the humans as a species, but they were brave, and the galaxy would be the lesser for their eventual eradication.
“I have a request,” Eto said slowly. “Which I have no right to ask, being neither your kin, instructor, or officer.”
“You can ask,” Aaron said. “I might not do it.”
“Then I ask that, wherever you go, into conflict with my people or with others, live for your cause--don’t die for it.”
Aaron’s lips thinned. “That is a big request. I’ll think it over.”
“I can ask no more than that.”
“I’m sure you’ll do the same.” Aaron nodded once to him, and then to Vanessa. “Firehouse 47, if you want to find me.”
He turned and walked into the dirty street.
Eto felt a shifting sensation in himself that he’d only felt twice before. Both times, it had presaged the realization that he must do something terribly unpleasant, which he had subsequently carried through.
Now, as he pondered Aaron’s parting words, Eto realized he had a choice.
If he truly believed the humans should be sponsored into the Council, that they were not suicidal to the point of insanity, he must be willing to live for that belief, as he’d just told Aaron. He must be willing to take responsibility for his recommendation. Eto suppressed a groan as he realized what that meant.
His life would never be the same if he went through with this. His career, his future… Recovery would be possible, but unlikely. And did they deserve it, these humans? They had changed his mind, but…
The shifting within him settled. He would do this thing. He could do no less and retain his integrity.
“Come. Or don’t. I must return to the communications center.”
Vanessa looked confused, but she trailed him as he went back inside. He had no power of precognition or telepathy, as some of the Crosspoint females claimed to have, but he was sure of what would now happen.
He instructed the techs to reconnect him with the emperor, and after a suitable interval for request and response, the emperor appeared on the screen.
“Eto? You have more to add?” His manner was slightly colder than it had been before, which Eto understood as a response to the pretension he had shown in requesting the emperor’s presence after the appointed time.
“Yes. I wish to add that, as I am confident of the humans’ potential, I deem it necessary to volunteer myself in this undertaking, should you decide to go forward. I believe that as a mentor of one of the cohorts of human children, I might personally ensure that at least some are trained, protected, and ready to represent humanity at their eventual trial.”
The emperor washed a pale color of surprise, and his frigidity relaxed. “A mentor? You? It is not a warrior’s position, and you would not receive any advancement. Indeed, the Council is contemplating a longer probationary period than normal, due to the current social and environmental upheaval on Earth. It may be seven years, Eto.”
Seven years! Eto’s soul shrank within him. The normal duration of sponsorship was one to three years—could he give up seven years of his life? Should he? He could be useful, even pivotal, in another venue. One in which he would advance, no doubt, beyond his current rank. And the humans, they could survive without him. The emperor might have already decided in favor of them. Eto could retract his offer in light of the longer sentence…
“I understand, but I still offer my services as a mentor to the humans. I believe that, after my careful analysis, I understand them in small part. Well enough that I feel obligated to do what I can to ensure their survival.”
“And who will thank you for this?” The emperor’s voice was almost gentle. “The humans surely will not.”
“I know.”
The emperor slowly inclined his head. “You offer a great sacrifice. I have been on the point of declining the sponsorship, but you’ve given me reason to reconsider.”
Eto bowed his head, and the connection was terminated.
In the semi-darkness of the empty communication room, he finally felt a measure of peace. He had done what he had to do.
#
Eto faced a group of one hundred medium-sized human children. They were between the ages of eleven and fourteen, and had tested as sufficiently intelligent and flexible to undertake the training for cross-species diplomats. Some were terrified, some were angry, and all were unappealing.
They were waiting in a large room at the LAX airport. Through the windows, he saw the shuttles that would take them to the orbiting ship. From there they would be conveyed to the Spo home world, to the recently prepared cadet facilities there.
And he would be their mentor. Other groups of children would be leaving in the next weeks from other parts of the Earth with other mentors. His work with these might ultimately be useless—or worse, insufficient. But he was committed.
He raised his hands, and a few quiet murmurs disappeared. “My name is—”
He stopped, seeing their eyes follow his clawed fingers. The nearest girl flinched as his mandibles twitched.
Eto pointed to a boy with shaggy, black hair. “You. What is a common male name?”
The boy gulped. “Uh…”
This was going to be the longest seven years of Eto’s life. “What is your grandfather’s name?”
“Um… Greg?”
“Acceptable. I will be Officer Greg. I am your mentor. I will not leave you or cause you harm.” He looked at the boy’s face, then the others. “And I will teach you how to survive.”
The End
Also By Corrie Garrett
Greg’s trials are far from over. Don’t miss Manipulate, the first book in the Alien Cadet series. (Free for a limited time!)
Sam Locklear is one of Greg’s best cadets – not the smartest or the most obedient – but he has a kind of magnetism that seems to make him a natural leader. Greg is hoping Sam can be groomed to help coalesce the shifting politics and sentiment on Earth before the trial, but it’s not easy to groom a human leader. Despite all his study and time with them, Greg can’t quite define the human qualities that make Sam appealing.
Then there’s Jonathan with his eidetic memory, perfect to be a calm and impressive trial witness. Nat is amazing at languages, she’s a born diplomat. Greg has plans for all his cadets. But there are many interested eyes watching the Earthly probation period… and they’ll do anything to sabotage the cadets before the trial.
If you’d like to be notified of Corrie’s future releases, or get the chance of a free review copy, sign up for her newsletter. You can also find more information at corriegarrett.wordpress.com.
Evaluate
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Also By Corrie Garrett
-ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Evaluate: A Spo novella (Alien Cadets) Page 6
