War of the Innocents

by Michelle Breon

  After a pause, she quietly asked. “Is it that bad?”

  “Actually, it’s that good. Trust me Miranda. I’ve never steered you wrong.”

  “I will be there as soon as I can.”

  “Great. I’ll keep them here until you arrive.” The connection was severed and he replaced the handset. Looking up at his assistant, he started listing actions to take.

  Inside the briefing room, the delegates began discussing their culture, happy to share with the others. Lunch arrived within an hour and they continued their conversation over soup and sandwiches.

  Over two hours later, the briefing room door opened again. The assistant entered and held the door, announcing the Secretary as he entered. Two security agents entered behind Phil and quickly surveyed the room. Joel stood immediately, indicating that the others should as well. The assistant then announced the president as she entered the room followed by her assistant and two more security agents.

  Earth Federation President Miranda Liacomo exuded the power and confidence of one who knew her mind and abilities. From her tailored dark blue suit to her perfect hair, she was poised and sophisticated, ready to tackle any challenge. As the Secretary made the introductions, she assessed each person in the room with a practiced eye, noting the varying degrees of respect, desperation, fear, and hope in each person.

  She took her spot at the head of the table, flanked by the security agents, her assistant to her right and the Secretary to her left. “So the Secretary tells me you have important information that affects Earth security. Please explain.” She sat down, indicating for the others to do so.

  Joel stood, nodding to the Secretary’s assistant and the vidphone. “Madame President, we need to get the final member of the meeting on the vidphone.”

  She looked at Phil who nodded, then back to Joel. “Fine.”

  The room waited quietly until Gillian appeared. The Secretary introduced Gillian to the President.

  “Madame President, would you like the short or long story?” Phil asked, deliberately using Joel’s words as they would pique her interest.

  “The short, if you please,” she said relaxing back.

  Joel smothered a grin and replied, “Madame President, you are currently sitting here with the diplomatic delegations from two of The Seven Lost Colonies.”

  One elegant brow raised in surprise. “You have my undivided attention. The long story, if you would please.”

  Joel smiled and began the tale, with Jason and Gillian telling their parts. However, as they talked Phil began setting information before the President. Star charts showing Parrhesia, Llanelyn, Earth, and Drotz. A datapad with Jason’s paper displayed. Another pad with the current headlines regarding the Parrhesian’s Sleeping Sickness. A third pad with the treaty between Earth and Llanelyn.

  Gillian noted the information being passed to the President and held Bethanae’s diary up to the screen. Phil crossed to the screen and scanned the text, pointing to Captain Llane Lyn’s name.

  When the tale was completed, the President leaned forward. “If everything you just told me is true, then we are discussing the discovery of a lifetime. However, I need proof.” Her assistant began typing furiously on her datapad as the President continued. “Phil, please send someone to Llanelyn, Parrhesia, and Drotz to assess their military capabilities. I want details. Have another doctor corroborate Dr. DeWitt’s findings, no offense doctor.”

  “None taken.”

  “I want to see those books.”

  Gillian did not flinch. “With all due respect Madame President, these books cannot leave the planet. I’m sure you understand that if they did, someone could claim they are forgeries. You are welcome to come here or to send a translator to work alongside the one provided by Dr. DeWitt.”

  “Understood. Expect a translator to arrive with the military.”

  Gillian nodded. “Might I request no uniforms? They will be less conspicuous that way.”

  Miranda nodded once in agreement. “I want to see the files Dr. DeWitt mentioned that detailed the Seven Lost Colonies.”

  “I already have those for you,” Phil said as he handed over another pad. “By the logs, he retrieved the files from the old NASA archives and it took the techs months to figure out how to translate the old data into something modern technology could read.”

  Nodding thoughtfully, she turned to her assistant. “Set up a press conference for tomorrow at dinnertime, seven pm. I want all the media present with enough importance suggested to get this onto every restaurant, bar, and other public screen. Do not give any information out about the nature, just stress the importance.” With that, her assistant nodded, gathered her datapad and left, surrounded by two security agents.

  The President turned back to the delegates. “You have indicated that this affects the lives of an entire planet of people. In this, you are wrong. If I choose to support Parrhesia, this affects the lives of everyone here on Earth, our colonies, and all our allies.” She shook her head in disbelief. “To have two of the Lost Seven found is astounding. Any ideas on the other five?”

  “No ma’am,” Joel volunteered. “It’s too early. They might show up after the press conference.”

  As the President spoke, she made eye contact with each delegate. “Please understand that this is a difficult decision. I do not have enough information to make a decision at this time that could affect trillions of lives. I recommend that we all meet back here at four tomorrow afternoon to review the information that I have requested. I will have a decision for you then. That should give us sufficient time to plan for the press conference as well.” She paused, then looked directly at the Chancellor. “Chancellor, in my position, what would you do?”

  The Chancellor cleared his throat. “I realize that I’m asking much, but I risk much either way. I risk death to my people if I do not ask for aid and I risk losing my culture if this is known. I must do what I can to keep my people safe. A show of force may be sufficient, as the Drotz are cowards. In your position, I would help save a planet.” His voice strengthened as he made his declaration.

  The President looked confused. “What do you mean lose your culture?”

  Joel spoke. “If I may?” he asked looking first to the Chancellor then to Angel. Both nodded. “Both Parrhesia and Llanelyn are agricultural, free societies. Everyone works and everything is free. They do not use money and trade off world for things they need that they cannot make. There is no crime, no poverty, no rich. When the other worlds hear about this, you can imagine how they will be bombarded by the lazy and the criminal elements.”

  She nodded. “I see.” She turned to the Chancellors attaché. “What would you do?”

  Younger, braver, and less reserved, Pieter spoke boldly. “I will do what I must to save my people. I will fight a war if need be. But I’m not foolish. The Drotz have better weapons. We need help to protect ourselves.”

  The President turned to Angel. “Cerato, what would you do?”

  “We are here to support our sister planet. However, we hope a peaceful solution can be found with the assistance of Earth.”

  The President then turned to Mischka. “And you?”

  “I experienced the Sleeping Sickness thirty years ago on Llanelyn, a condition that takes the eldest and youngest first and wears on the body and the heart. While I do not like war, I will not sit idly by while such a condition is deliberately inflicted on an innocent people.”

  She nodded once, then turned to Gillian. “And you?”

  “I was the Cerato on Llanelyn during the Sleeping Sickness that my husband just spoke of and I agree with him. During my thirty-year tenure, I prepared Llanelyn for this day and we are ready. While I do not want war, I will help the Parrhesians.”

  The President looked at the treaty pad and quickly accessed the signatures to confirm what she suspected. She looked at Joel, who nodded once, then turned to Nik. “And you?”

  Quietly, Nik said, “The Cerato speaks for all of Llanelyn.”


  The President turned to Jason. “Doctor?”

  “I took an oath to save lives, not lose them in war. But this weapon kills, first those who are not strong and then those who would be conquered while they slept. Llanelyn is ready. We can help Parrhesia be ready. A treaty and public awareness, coupled with a military show of support may be enough to prevent a war.”

  Last she turned to Joel. “General?”

  “As the Chancellor said, the Drotz are cowards, but I don’t think a simple show of force will be enough. They are aggressive and have many allies. War may be necessary, but short lived. My greatest fear is that if we do not act, the Drotz will win, Parrhesia will fall, and the weapon will be turned on the next unsuspecting planet, possibly even Earth itself. By stepping in now, we may avoid a significantly worse situation later.”

  The President showed no emotion. “But the doctor has a cure.”

  Jason spoke up. “Yes, ma’am. As this is a pulse weapon, there is a nanochip that can protect someone, but only for about a year. The best cure is to use a planetary defense shield, modulated to block the pulse wave. However, that would have to be effected on every Earth colony and ally. But such a shield is ineffective if the pulse weapon is enabled inside the shield.”

  “What chance do you think the Drotz will attack another planet?”

  Joel spoke. “Based on what I know of the Drotz, eighty percent.”

  She nodded once, then rose. “I appreciate your honesty and trust. After the press conference tomorrow, please accept my hospitality and join me for dinner. Until four tomorrow.” She left the room, with the security agents, the Secretary, and his assistant.

  “So is that it?” the Chancellor asked.

  Joel sighed. “Unfortunately for today, yes. I wasn’t sure what she would do, but she has a right to verify our claims.”

  Mischka smiled grimly. “From past experience tis normal. Tis but one day until we have answers.”

  Jason nodded. “Anything I should tell Ryan?”

  “Call him and let him be the first to announce the press conference. You could give him enough of the information to have a scoop over the others.”

  “That’s what I had thought of as well. I just wanted to be sure you knew.”

  “Thanks.”

  The door opened and the Secretary’s assistant entered. “The Secretary wondered if you needed any assistance with accommodations due to the delay.”

  Joel looked around and everyone shook their head. “We’re fine. How is the press outside?”

  “The usual reporters and cameras. Let me see if you can use the Secretary’s private transporter.”

  Gillian yawned. “Joel, I’ll sign off now. Jason, call me when you all get home please.”

  “I will.” The vidphone went blank and Gillian crossed the room and fell into bed, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before the military delegation arrived.

  The Secretary’s assistant returned and escorted them to a private transporter. “This will get you home, but you’ll need to find your own way back tomorrow.”

  They all agreed, shook hands with Joel, and headed out. Before Joel could turn around, the assistant said contemptuously, “They are waiting for you.”

  Ignoring the assistant as he would an annoying fly, Joel walked back to the Secretary’s office and knocked. At Phil’s call from inside, he opened the door and entered.

  After leaving the briefing room, Phil led the way to his office, gallantly holding the door for the President. He poured her a glass of water and handed it to her.

  “I trust that you have already verified their claims.”

  “As much as I could in the two hours between meetings. Everything fits. I believe they are telling the truth.” Phil hung his long coat over the back of his chair.

  “The last thing we need is another war right now. We have barely recovered from the last one. But when the press gets wind of this, there will be no stopping them.”

  “I know. One of my assistants made a quick call to some of the doctors who went with Dr. DeWitt and they confirmed Llanelyn’s culture. Joel is right about those who will take advantage of that society.”

  At a quiet knock, Phil called the door was open. Joel entered, closing the door quietly behind him.

  “General Peterson, would you stake your career that everything claimed in the briefing room is one hundred percent truthful?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Everything was true.”

  “What I do not understand is why all the ceremony? If you knew, you could have just told us at any point in time.” Miranda set her water glass aside.

  Joel settled into a chair. “You’re right, I could have. However, if I used our friendship in that manner, the press would eventually find out. That would not look good for any of us. By working through the proper channels to reach you, everything appears legitimate.”

  “But you knew I would be interested. Especially after that cryptic email you sent Phil and I two days ago that the rumors we were about to hear were true.”

  “Yes, Miranda, I knew.”

  “So how long have you known about all of this?”

  “I suspected something back when I first visited Llanelyn. Jason, Gillian, and Mischka have been my friends since then, so I never wanted to pry any further than my friends were willing to tell me. But when Jason asked me to dinner a few nights ago, I never suspected the full tale he told me. Even Jason didn’t know about Parrhesia until about two months ago when they contacted him regarding his paper.”

  “Why didn’t Dr. DeWitt bring this all out thirty years ago?” Phil asked. “Why did he wait until now? He could have made a fortune with the talk show circuit.”

  “Simple, his friendship with Mischka and Gillian. He spent time on Llanelyn and understood the damage to their society this would have been back then. He’s not after fame or fortune, but would rather protect his friends.”

  “Their worlds are completely without money?”

  “Yes, Phil. They have a very simple system. Everyone has a job and everyone reports to someone who signs their work record each day. Everything else, food, shelter, clothes, health care, everything, is free. There are no entertainment centers, a village square instead of a shopping mall in each village where their products are available for whoever needs them, and no large governing body. Each village has Elders for each guild and a single Elder to coordinate the others.”

  “Where does the Cerato fit in?”

  “A Cerato is chosen by the Gods when they detect a struggle in the near future. That’s all I know. If you want to know anything else, you will need to ask Gillian.”

  “Understood. If you were there when Dr. DeWitt cured the Sleeping Sickness then you know the cure.”

  “Yes, I was there. As we said, this is a pulse wave. The cure is to block the wave. The nanochips available back then were only good for six months and were not commercially available.”

  “Then how did . . .” Phil paused as the realization sank in on him. “You cured the Sickness.”

  “I know Llanelyn’s defense grid inside and out. I had to in order to modulate the shield to block the wave.”

  “So where do your loyalties lie?”

  Joel turned to the President. “With Earth Gov, always. But I won’t betray the trust of my friends. Llanelyn is no threat to Earth.”

  Miranda smiled. “I just wanted to be sure we understood one another.” She paused, then changed the subject. “So what do the Drotz want with Parrhesia?”

  “No one knows for sure. I’m hoping that the data you asked for turns up something. I’ve been checking but the Drotz have made no demands on Parrhesia.”

  Phil loosened cuffs, and began rolling up his sleeves. “Miranda, I think we should have a treaty ready for them. Hopefully it will ease their concerns and get them to trust us more.”

  “Agreed. Where is Llanelyn’s treaty?”

  While Phil passed the datapad to her, Joel removed his dress jacket. Knowing Miranda and Phil as he did, they had many h
ours ahead of them to have everything ready for the meeting tomorrow and the press conference.

  Much later that evening, Phil sent an encoded, encrypted message to his best agent. The short message conveyed everything he intended. “Need info – Drotz, Parrhesia, Llanelyn.”

  Once they arrived home, Jason contacted Ryan. After the usual pleasantries, Jason said, “There is a press conference tomorrow at seven pm. The President will be announcing something important with regard to the recent rumors.”

  Ryan whistled. “I don’t think I want to know how you managed that.” Jason grinned. “How much can I say without stealing her thunder?”

  “When is your evening print deadline?”

  “In a half hour.”

  “Keep it simple for now. Let’s meet tomorrow morning and continue our interview. I would like the full story out just after the press conference.”

  Ryan nodded and fell silent except for the taps on the datapad. He held up the brief statements for Jason’s approval. “Late Breaking: Earth Federation President Miranda Liacomo to address the press tomorrow night regarding a significant development on the situation with the Parrhesians that also concerns Llanelyn. Delegates from both worlds are in conference with the President. Stand by for an exclusive interview with someone close to the source.”

  Jason scanned the terse message and grinned again. “I’d love to see the look on your editor’s face when he reads this.”

  “I can get my cameraman to record it if you want.”

  Jason laughed but shook his head. “Just let me know.”

  Ryan promised and then severed the connection.

  Several hours later, Jason called Gillian. The military delegation and translator had arrived. Tashi showed the military around while Ian led the translator to Doug.

  “I’m coming back with them. I want to be there for the press conference.”

  “You need sleep.”

  “I’ll catnap. I’ll be fine. Adrenaline will keep me going.”

  The next day, Jason let Angel, Mischka, and Nik sleep late, while he chatted with Ryan. “The first announcement about the press conference aired last night. We will have to avoid the press no matter when we leave. Joel has it all arranged for us.”