Peace World Read online

  Truk had no inkling how often she thought about the target resting on his back. The idea of taking the reins of power from the fool was never far from her consciousness. She just needed the right opportunity. In the meantime, she could easily put up with the tiresome checkpoints.

  Rala passed the third and final screening and entered the governor's office. He was pacing behind his desk, as usual. Without waiting for an invitation, she approached the desk and took a seat on the near side. Truk had stopped noticing the minor slight weeks ago, but it never failed to give her ego a boost that she had come so far. The thought of the listening device still in place under the chair amplified the emotion. Even when she wasn't in the room, she heard what was discussed, and with whom. The conversations she overheard gave her a very clear understanding of Truk's plans and his methods. They also provided her with enough information to build a network of trusted allies from the most important members of Minith military, political, and civilian circles. She could kill Truk now as he paced nervously across the back of the room and take over the role of governor. But the time was not yet right.

  The actions on Earth, and the upcoming spectacle with the remaining human prisoners, dictated that she bide her time a bit longer. But just a bit.

  "So, Rala," Truk said as he suddenly ceased pacing and approached his desk. He settled his large frame in the garish purple throne that doubled as his desk chair. "How are the preparations coming?"

  When Ghin had come to her for help in preparing for the planned remembrance activities, she had latched onto the task as her own. The governor's aide had expressed both surprise and relief that someone of her importance would take on the responsibility for preparing the facility. He had gladly passed the task over to her, and immediately reported the transfer of ownership to Truk. He did not know that controlling all aspects of the event aligned perfectly with her plans.

  "Everything is in order and on schedule. I have some of my best workers managing the effort. We have engaged the Waa to help, since all work on ships has ceased until after the ceremony." She didn't mention that they were the only ones capable of doing the work.

  "Very good. The stage, sound, and video are coming along as I instructed?" The governor wanted the hundreds of thousands in the crowd to easily see and hear his pompous prattle, so had demanded a raised stage. Behind the stage, he had asked for a massive vid screen that would project his enlarged image to the masses. The giant screen would be enhanced by a complex sound system that was spread across the entire city. Even those few who might disobey his orders to attend the event would at least hear what Truk had to say. That was the plan, anyway. Fortunately, the Waa grasped the orders they had been given and were able to work their magic.

  "Yes, Governor. The Waa have set up everything exactly as you requested."

  "It was not a request, Rala," Truk growled, and leaned toward her menacingly.

  "Yes, Governor, I misspoke. Forgive me," she muttered quietly while looking down at the floor. She offered the signal of submission automatically, and bit back on her anger. The anger was aimed not only at Truk, but at herself as well for the simple misstep. She was too close to the end to make such stupid mistakes.

  Truk seemed satisfied with the exchange and switched to another subject.

  "Have you discovered how the humans were able to escape our space fighters and make it to the planet?"

  Rala fidgeted. The Waa explanations seemed flimsy and weak, but she had no technical background with which to refute them. "Yes, Governor. I have spoken with the Waa about the green beams of light I saw. Apparently, it's a safety device used to rescue descending motherships that are in trouble. According to the Waa, our attacks on the ship activated the beam. It has never been used before, and they were just as surprised as we were."

  "Hmm," Truk grunted, but he did not press the issue. Rala was relieved, because she had no additional information on the incident. "Has there been any further word from the Zrthns?"

  "Governor, the aliens have not changed their stance since the last time we spoke." She wanted to remind him that it was only yesterday, but knew that would not be wise. "They are anxious for the agsel shipments to continue, but they understand that we need to resolve the human situation. They were extremely pleased that our forces were successful in retaking one of the mining bases on Telgora."

  "Only one? What about the others?"

  Rala was never more relieved that she was able to hide her emotions so well. She chafed that the male relied on her to oversee the military reports coming back from Telgora. Then again, the fact that he relied on her for the activity confirmed the extent to which her influence had grown.

  "The Telgorans are proving extremely resistant to our forces. The other bases are still in their hands."

  "For how long?"

  Rala shrugged her ears in apology. "I am not a military strategist, Governor."

  "Of course," Truk mumbled, clearly not pleased. "When can we begin shipments from the planet?"

  "Sir, the base we recaptured was severely damaged. From what I have been told, it may be ready in a month."

  "A month. Do we have a month with the Zrthns?"

  "Oiloo, the Zrthn trade representative, understands our situation, Governor. He appears patient. Keep in mind that we are fighting to regain the mines. If the Zrthns are concerned with our progress, their only option is to try to retake the planet themselves," she explained. "I doubt they would have more success, and my instincts tell me they would rather we accomplished the task for them."

  "Yes, there is merit in that. If they are going to step in, it will be after we have expended thousands of Minith soldiers doing the dirty work for them."

  Rala merely nodded. Truk was such a fool. What he did not seem to grasp—for whatever reason—was that the Zrthns would have to battle someone if they wanted to capture the agsel planet. If not the Telgorans, then they would need to face the Minith. His ignorance reconfirmed her decision to replace him as soon as the time was right.

  * * *

  Grant elected to withhold the information about the Waa device from Titan and Conway. There were details he needed to consider before discussing their eventual mission. Although the outlines of a plan had been covered with the Waa, they agreed that the final decision on when, where, and how best to accomplish the goal would be Grant's.

  He did, however, share the news of the others being held captive as soon as they returned to his room.

  "Gee's alive?"

  "Apparently so, and he's being held not too far from here," Grant replied. He was glad to be able to deliver the news to Titan. The large ex-Violent and the chunky engineer had formed a tight bond—one that had been apparent from the first time Grant saw them together. They were an unlikely duo, but he could understand how being stranded together on a strange planet for years might have that affect.

  "Grant, that's the best news I've heard in a long time. What about the others?"

  "Aal and his buddies are going to help us get Gee back. Helping the others is going to be a tad more difficult. They're being held inside a large military compound near the governor's quarters. According to the Waa, they have a few hundred soldiers surrounding them at all times."

  "So we're just going to leave them there?" Conway asked, her voice quivering with emotion. Quiet until now, she was suddenly very interested with the conversation. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side.

  "Hold on a minute, Sergeant." Grant put up a hand to try to calm her. "No one's leaving them there. But we can only do one thing at a time."

  "And this Violent's engineer-buddy takes priority? That's—that's bullshit!"

  Titan sprang from the chair he had dropped into and advanced on the soldier. The scowl on his face matched the anger in her voice, and Grant quickly leaped between the two.

  "Knock it off," he snarled, looking at each in turn. "We've got enough … stuff … to deal with already. It's not a matter of anyone taking priority. It's about our chances of success. There's
no way we can take on several hundred Minith without getting ourselves killed in the process, and I'm tired of getting folks killed. This is about taking an action that has a reasonable chance of success."

  The large man and the relatively small woman glared at each other, but neither tried to fight their way past Grant. He caught Titan's eye and nodded his chin toward the chair. With a grunt, the big man turned his back and resumed his previous position.

  "And you," Grant tipped his head toward Conway. "Where did you learn the word 'bullshit?'"

  "I wonder."

  Grant wished he had never brought any of his words or mannerisms to the future. They could only cause damage to the Peaceful citizens of Earth if they became widespread. Despite arguments to the contrary, it wasn't only sticks and stones that could cause hurt. How many past assaults, murders, and wars could be attributed to words? Too many. For the thousandth time, he reminded himself to watch his language more carefully.

  "Well, it's not a Peaceful word, so stop using it."

  "Since when have you cared about Peace? General." Her tone did not pass unnoticed, but Grant ignored it, released a heavy sigh. He was so tired.

  "I've always cared about peace, Conway, just a different kind. The peace I care about is not capitalized," he explained. "And it's certainly not forced on everyone through societal law. The peace I care about can be defined in very simple terms: the absence of war."

  "Forgive me for saying so, General, but your response is … bullshit. One moment you tell me that saying a word is not Peaceful. In the next breath, you tell me that Peace means nothing more than 'the absence of war.' You can't have it both ways."

  "The woman has a point, Grant," Titan added.

  But Grant's conscious had already processed the point—recognized it as having merit. In fact, Conway's response highlighted the real issue of peace, regardless of whether it was spelled with a capital "P" or not. It was an epiphany for the ancient warrior—a moment of enlightenment that he had felt only a few times in his life, and he looked inward. He gave himself over to a pressing need—a desire to uncover as much of the answer gnawing at the fringes of his mind as he could before it disappeared.

  Peace is a concept that seems simple only on the surface. Platitudes, clichés, and banal considerations are whitewash behind which the true complexities of peace hide. Peace is not merely the absence of a negative force. To be real, peace must also include the presence of a positive force. A cease-fire alone does not constitute peace. To be real, peace must include genuine amity and goodwill. Otherwise, it is merely a lull in the conflict—a brief pause before the next bullet flies.

  The concept of Peace, as practiced by the current citizens of Earth, was false. But for the first time in his life, Grant understood that his concept of peace was just as false. Peace is not merely the absence of war. There are too many other factors and conditions that contribute to the concept. Unrest, turmoil, disorder, conflict, strife. None of these are "war," but all affect the ability to achieve and maintain peace.

  Grant resurfaced to find Titan and Conway staring at him. He did not know how long he had been under, but he had definitely been spacing out. He still did not have the answer to peace—the complexities were simply beyond his ability to decipher. But he did possess a new awareness.

  "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Just thinking."

  "Don't hurt yourself, Little Man," Titan taunted. "But I hope you were thinking about how we're going to get Gee."

  "No," Grant admitted with an embarrassed smile. "But that's next on my list."

  CHAPTER 29

  Patahbay and one of his warriors led the way; the other two Telgorans tailed behind. Grant simply followed along as the Waa sent mind-directions that would take them to the stairwell which would eventually take them up to the surface. He could not help but marvel at the extent of the underground labyrinth they passed through as they made their way to the eventual exit point. He had thought the underground caverns of Patahbay and his people were impressive, but even those were nothing like this. Even though they saw none of them, more than a hundred million Waa lived in these passageways, if Aal was telling him the truth.

  And the Minith believed fewer than three hundred of the planet's natives remained. Incredible.

  An hour after they started, Patahbay halted before a nondescript door and looked at Grant.

  "We are here."

  Grant nodded.

  "Everyone, check your weapons. According to Aal, Gee's thoughts don't indicate any presence of soldiers," he informed the others. "On the other hand, the Waa have not made direct, formal contact with Gee, so they can't be certain. We need to be ready for anything."

  "How far do we have to climb?" Titan asked his Telgoran friend. "I remember it being a long climb down to get here."

  "Still a long climb," Patahbay replied, his words accompanied by the now-familiar nods of the four dindin warriors.

  "Just great."

  "It didn't seem that bad to me," Grant chided. They all knew he had been unconscious for most of the journey down from the surface.

  "General, you're gonna need those legs of yours before we're through," Conway said, indicating the scientifically modified appendages he had been given. She then pointed to Titan. "Hell, you'll probably have to carry this guy most of the way up."

  "Ha," Titan replied. "I'm twice your size. I'll be carrying you before we're through."

  "Not likely. I remember your wheezing and coughing after that little run we had a few months back. I don't think your endurance has improved since then."

  "Let's save our breaths for topside, shall we?" Grant asked, interrupting their back-and-forth. "We'll know soon enough who's in shape and who isn't."

  An hour and more than three thousand steps later, Grant and the Telgorans reached the top. Grant was winded and his legs ached; the Telgorans looked ready to go another three thousand steps. The veteran soldier sat on the top step and waited for the other two humans.

  Conway arrived ten minutes later, gasping for breath and with sweat pouring down her face. She collapsed to the landing with a groan and lay unmoving.

  When Titan showed up twenty minutes later, Conway was leaning lazily against the side of the landing with her arms crossed. She nonchalantly whistled a tune Grant did not recognize, but that obviously wasn't the point.

  Titan spared only a moment to glare daggers at the sergeant before collapsing to the deck. It was the same thing Conway had done when she reached the landing, but Grant wasn't going to tell Titan that. She had earned her small victory.

  "Twenty minutes to let 'Mr. Big' here regain his legs and wind. Then we move out," Grant announced.

  * * *

  Gee was bored. It was a growing problem for the engineer, who was used to having too much to do, not too little. After nearly three months of captivity, his only real activities involved spending time with his warden's sons, Arok and Teng, and eating.

  Of those two activities, he had to admit that being with the two young Minith was the preferred. Although Minith and humans are both omnivorous and can usually digest similar foods, finding a suitable meal that was pleasing to all his senses had proven a challenge. Fortunately, Rala had been patient, and seemed to care enough about his well-being to be concerned with his needs. After a week of trying various foods, he had settled on his top three or four choices—all vegetables native to Waa—and had learned to enjoy them almost as much as his Earth favorites. Through the course of the effort, he had somehow managed to lose the extra ring of pounds that had always fleshed out his waistline. For the first time in his life, he was actually slim.

  As for the young Minith, Gee was surprised to find them interesting companions, as well as likeable. His previous experiences with the alien soldiers posted to Earth had only shown him one side of the race—and it had not been their best side. The boys were competitive in almost everything they did, but that was to be expected. They were Minith, after all. What was not expected were the regular displays of h
umor, intelligence, and tolerance. Neither boy, nor their mother, fit the previous vision he had held of the Minith. In those rare instances when he dropped his guard and the thought crept up on him, he wondered how many 'good' Minith he had killed when his engineering handiwork helped destroyed their home planet.

  Soon after his capture, he was released from his room—he preferred calling it a room versus a cell—to observe Arok and Teng take part in combat training. He found the activity excessively violent, but there was a certain rush of excitement that came with the violence when he realized they were not trying to hurt each other. He expressed his pleasure to Rala, and after that was often allowed to watch the boys take their lessons. On each occasion, he was asked to offer feedback and constructive criticism on how each lesson went and whether he felt each boy performed up to his best. Because of his inability and his personal lack of desire to fight, he rarely had anything to offer.

  What he did have to offer was his own knowledge and experience, and he looked for ways to use his abilities to help ease the boredom-filled days. As the weeks passed, his attention turned to the problems of weapons and fighting. He still considered himself a Peace-loving human, but the aggressive habitat in which he found himself understandably caused him to begin thinking in those terms.

  The boys sparred primarily with their bodies, staffs, and dulled blades to minimize injury. The boys' mother had made it clear that neither would be allowed to pick up a Minith pulse weapon until they were sufficiently trained in the manual arts of combat. According to Rala, their father had once told her that training with a pulse weapon gave a fighter a false sense of power, and he declared that his sons would learn to defend themselves with nothing more than their hands and the tools they could find in any Minith home. She had taken that to heart, and in his absence was putting his declaration into reality with their training regimen.