Peace Warrior (22 page)

EPILOGUE

Grant soaked up the sunshine. Their picnic finished, he and Avery had laid out a blanket. They were snuggled together, her head nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm. The crest of this grass covered hill was a favorite spot and they visited it often. Grant marveled at the joy he had found in this new world as his wife slept.

His thoughts and the quiet that surrounded them were interrupted as a carrier rushed overhead. He opened one eye and watched the vehicle settle at the bottom of the hill.

Two figures got out.

One began the short trek to the top. The other hung back.

Grant waited a few moments before gently removing his arm from under Avery’s sleeping form. He sat up and waited for Tane to reach the summit.

The scientist stopped fifteen feet from the blanket and nodded his head. Grant got the impression that Tane felt he was intruding and was unwilling to close the remaining distance. Tane’s thoughtfulness was one of the things Grant loved about his best friend.

“Hello, Grant.” Tane eyes met Grant’s for the briefest moment before settling on a patch of ground midway between them. Having become attuned to Tane’s mannerisms, Grant knew that something very important was on the scientist’s mind.

“Hi, Tane. What’s up?”

“I’ve just received word from the Leadership Council.” Grant waited for his friend to continue, but had to prod him to go on.

“And? What did our gracious Council have to say that’s got you so nervous, Tane?”

Tane squatted down. He pulled several blades of grass from the ground and tossed them into the air where they were caught by a slight breeze. Grant noticed that the wind was blowing from its usual direction of west to east. He also recognized that Tane was delaying what he needed to say for as long as possible. He decided to wait. Tane would speak when he was ready.

“They have received word from one of the deep space telescopes we had installed in S’merca.”

That got Grant’s full attention.

“And?”

“They have detected a large object headed toward our solar system.”

“A large object? You mean a ship?” Grant tried to sound calm, but could not keep the sudden, tight tension from creeping into his voice.

Avery must have detected the change, because she stirred beside him. Sat up. Her secondary eyelids blinked down to cut the glare of the mid-day sun and she looked down the hill. Waved to the figure walking there.

Tane held up his hands. He was asking Grant to remain calm, at Peace.

“We do not know that. It could be an asteroid or a meteor. It is too soon to tell for sure.”

“Right, Tane. It could be. But it could also be them right?” Grant didn’t need Tane to answer. He already knew that the Minith’s return was a possibility. Perhaps even a probability.

“That has not been ruled out.”

“Well then, I guess I have work to do.” Grant stood up and stretched. He looked down the hill at the second visitor, who was now running towards them.

Avery was fully awake now and having heard the last few exchanges, knew what to expect. She packed up their blanket and the remains of the picnic without another word.

They had planned for this day. Hoped it wouldn’t come, but planned for it nonetheless. If the object hurtling toward Earth was an asteroid or a meteor, great. If it was the Minith, then they were ready.

The running figure reached the top of the hill. Did not slow down. Launched himself into the air toward Grant.

“Daaadddy!”

Grant timed the jump perfectly, as he always did. Plucked the five year old cleanly out of the air and swung him around and around. His son stuck out his arms and made plane noises.

All three adults laughed. They knew the child wanted to be a jet fighter pilot when he grew up.

Just like his Uncle Mouse.

Not a boring old general like his dad.

The End

Read on for a preview of:

PEACE ARMY

Book 2 of the Peace Warrior Trilogy

PEACE ARMY

Chapter 1

Grant strode purposefully down the half-mile length of the First Square hallway, slowing only as he neared the door to Treel’s room. He wondered how Treel would take the news.

He had delayed informing the alien about the object headed toward Earth until they were positive what it was. Just that morning, the probes they had placed on Mars two years previously had sent back very clear images. The visual identification confirmed their worst fears.

The approaching object was a Minith mothership.

They had suspected it for weeks, ever since the fast-moving object suddenly appeared. Their search efforts scanned the sky at all times, looking for anomalies, blips, and motherships. A third of their systems detected the object at the same moment. One second, nothing. The next, a tiny blip marked the presence of a new object on the outer boundary of the solar system.

Senior Scientist Tane Rolan surmised the ship had slowed from faster-than-light speed at, or just before, the moment it was detected, but no one knew for certain. What they did know was, at its current speed, the ship would reach Earth in less than a week.

Treel was the sole survivor of the previous Minith occupation force. He had been captured by the men and women of Violent’s Prison after a failed raid of the prison by the alien force. The other Minith on the planet had been killed, many by Grant.

Over the past six years, Grant had come to trust the former Minith soldier. Somehow, he could relate to Treel in ways other humans could not—and in ways that he could not relate to other humans. As an ancient soldier, forged by the norms of a society six hundred years in the past, Grant was just as much an anomaly in present-day Earth as was the alien. They were both trained soldiers. Neither feared killing or showing violence when the need arose. Both were driven by a need for discipline, accountability, and an ingrained code of honor.

Over the first year after Treel’s capture, Grant had spent at least two hours each day talking with the alien. His reasons for doing so were protective and proactive in nature. He needed information that would help protect Earth from a possible future attack. And he did not want to wait until the day the information was needed to get it.

There was no torture; it wasn’t needed. The alien was forthcoming with every detail requested. He answered Grant’s questions about Minith capabilities, tactics, and weapons promptly and efficiently. Because of the ease with which it was gained, Grant was initially suspicious of the information provided. It took him nearly a year to realize that Treel was just responding as he had been conditioned by Minith culture. Upon losing his entire force and being captured, Treel had simply conceded superiority to the humans who defeated him.

For the Minith, defeat by a superior opponent meant a complete and immediate shift in loyalty to the victor.

Once Grant understood that key detail of the Minith psyche, he proceeded differently. He fostered a relationship with the alien based on mutual trust and understanding. They discussed more than just tactics of warfare. They ventured into areas of Minith culture—family life and children. It was during these discussions that Treel announced to Grant that he had a family. A spouse and two children resided on a planet that had been captured and claimed outside the Minith’s home solar system.

It was soon after learning of Treel’s family that Grant introduced the alien to his own son.

Eli was three when Grant first took the boy to visit Treel, and Grant was amazed at the bond Eli and the alien formed. Within weeks, Eli was asking to visit Treel daily. It took more than a little convincing to get Avery to relent to regular visits, but after agreeing only on the condition that they visit as a family, she too was soon swayed by Treel’s interactions with the boy. Eli’s lack of fear and obvious affection for Treel helped seal the deal. After six months of family visits, neither she nor Grant had any concern about Eli’s safety and soon permitted Eli unrestricted visits.

Despite his own convictions, it took two years for Grant to convince the Leadership Council that the Minith soldier was no longer a threat to humans. He eventually succeeded, though. Although Treel was still technically a prisoner, he was not confined to a room or a cell. He was free to roam as he wished—for now. Grant had no idea if that freedom would be allowed to continue.

The approaching ship changed things.

* * *

“Check.”

Eli scanned the board. The pieces were in their appointed places. But he always made sure. His dad taught him that lesson the first time they ever played.

Always make sure.

Satisfied everything was in order, he moved his knight two spots down and one spot over. It settled neatly into its appointed place. To the place he had planned for it to settle a dozen moves back. He smiled at his latest opponent, the only person—well, not really a person—other than his dad who played chess.

“Checkmate.”

“Ah! I thought I had you that time, little one,” Treel conceded. He leaned back from the table and glared at the five-year-old across the board.

Eli grinned at Treel’s menacing sneer. He knew it was a “tactic”—his dad’s word—the alien used to intimidate him. But it never worked. Treel was a Minith, but he was nice. That was Treel’s big secret around most humans. Almost everyone was scared to be around him. Not his dad or his mom, or even his uncle Tane or his uncle Mouse. They knew Treel well enough. But everyone else left the room quickly when the alien entered. They weren’t used to his size, his large ears, or his green leathery hide.

Eli knew that was the reason Treel kept to his room. He did not like how most humans acted when they were around him.

“Again, little one?” The best thing about Treel, though, was he liked to play chess. He was also getting better with each game, which was great.

“Sure,” the boy eagerly accepted. He loved the game and would play all day if he could. His dad was busy and didn’t have a lot of time to play. His uncle Tane tried playing a few times, but Eli knew he did it just to spend time with him. Uncle Tane wasn’t very good, and that was boring.

They gathered the pieces and settled them into their places. Eli rocked with anticipation of the next match.

Treel curled his top lip and snarled. Eli laughed.

“Don’t even try that tactic, Treel. You’re goin’ down, clown.” He quoted one of his dad’s favorite phrases whenever they started a new game. He didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded funny.

Treel snarled again. Gave Eli the Minith version of a smile. Led out with knight to F3.

* * *

Grant stopped, peered into the window set into the door, and nodded. As expected, Treel and Eli were well into a game of chess. A surge of regret at not having more time to spend with Eli flashed painfully through his core. He shrugged it off, consciously denying it the power to deter him from his duties.

Grant pulled the door open and entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb the game.

Eli would have none of it, though. When he saw his dad, the game was forgotten. He erupted from his chair and quickly wrapped himself around his dad’s legs.

“Dad!”

“Hey, son. You kicking some Minith butt?” He smiled and ruffled his son’s reddish-brown hair, a gift from his mother’s gene pool.

Treel stood from the game. Stretched. “Yes. Your little one is unusually good at this game of strategy. He will make a fine soldier one day.”

“Don’t tell his mother that, or she’ll never let him play chess again,” Grant only half joked. Avery knew the need for soldiers, but she was adamant that her son would not be among them.

“Aw. C’mon, dad. It’s just a game.” Eli knew when his dad wasn’t being completely serious. “Besides, I’m gonna be a pilot.”

“Yes, yes. A pilot, just like your uncle Mouse.” Grant knew where his son’s allegiance resided. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure your mom sees the distinction between a person who fights on the ground and one who fights in the air.”

Grant picked the boy up and squeezed him in a tight hug. “You know how much I love you?”

Eli spread his right thumb and forefinger a quarter of an inch apart and held his hand up to his eye. He squinted through the tiny space. “About this much?”

“Ha. Even less.” They laughed, both familiar with the game they played. The smaller the gap, the more love there was between them.

Grant put the boy down and pointed him toward the door. “Go see what your mom is doing. I need to talk to Treel for a bit.”

“But Dad, we’re right in the middle of a game!”

Grant sighed. Surveyed the board quickly. Shook his head. “Little buddy, looks like you’ve got him set up for checkmate in three more moves.”

“What?” Treel growled as he scanned the pieces arranged on the table. “I’m ahead on this one.”

“Ha! That’s funny,” Eli teased as he headed for the door. “Told you you were goin’ down, clown!”

Acknowledgements

I wrote the first draft of this book more than ten years ago. It languished in a drawer for all of those years simply because I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t have an agent. I didn’t know anyone in the publishing world. For me, the purpose and drive behind the book was in the writing, not in the publishing. Then I bought a Kindle from Amazon and downloaded Edward C. Patterson’s title,
Are You Still Submitting Your Work to a Traditional Publisher?
That short e-book gave me a roadmap for publishing my book – in a format that I enjoyed. I would encourage other authors who may have a book stashed away to grab a copy of Patterson’s book and follow his roadmap. It’s not easy, but it may be worth it. It was for me – the result is in your hands. I hope you enjoy it, but if you don’t, it’s entirely my fault and none of Patterson’s.

If you feel inclined, a review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, or wherever you purchased this book would be most appreciated. More than anything, reviews help struggling authors get their books in front of more readers. If for any reason, this book missed the mark for you, please accept my apologies. Hundreds (perhaps thousands) of hours went into its creation and I continue to insert improvements on a regular basis. Let me know where it fell short and I will take your feedback to heart – if not on this one, then certainly on the next. That’s a promise.

I need to thank some great Brother’s of the Leaf. Dan Lockhart (MrWolf) helped by reading the draft and offering suggestions. Jimmy Rodriguez (eljimmy) and Keith Norek (shamrocker) assisted me over a couple of technical hurdles. All were a great help en route to finishing this book. Thanks, guys!

Thanks also to Sabrina Kleis for her work on the book’s cover. You can see more of her outstanding work on her website:
www.7-days.net
.