Peace Warrior (9 page)

Hard.

Human.

Woman.

"Oh, damn," Grant cursed and lifted his two hundred or so pounds from the inert body. He had been expecting an oversized alien and had gotten a human female. What would have been bad for an oversized alien was slightly worse for her.

Seconds passed. She moaned, slightly stirred.

Grant silently thanked whoever might be up in heaven that she was still alive and carefully carried her to the nearby sofa.

He laid the woman down and noted that she was somewhat attractive. He turned her face toward him and changed his assessment. She was very attractive. The oval face possessed a perfectly shaped nose and full lips. Apart from the large purple welt rising quickly over her right eye, it was an unblemished face – framed by short brown hair, still wet from the shower. Her widely spaced eyes had long lashes and Grant wondered what she might look like with those secondary lids – and just as suddenly found himself not caring. A quick check of her body showed pleasant curves clad in a thin robe of silky, purple (what else?) material. The robe did not cover much and he scanned the room for something to cover her with. Nothing. He went to the second door and found a bedroom on the other side.

Grant drew the purple blanket from the small bed. He placed the blanket over her body, covering her with some regret. After all, it had been over six hundred years since his last experience with a female. He had also spent six hundred years recalling each and every one of his previous experiences and that tended to dull those prior recollections.

Grant sat next to the sleeping beauty and felt her forehead. She felt slightly warm and he picked up her wrist gently, found the strong beat within. He looked back to her face and found himself staring into the most beautifully unclouded brown eyes he had ever seen. It took a moment for the fact to register, but it did. Her eyes were unclouded by the secondary eyelids she should have possessed. Then, he noticed her blank stare and he knew.

She was blind.

Her lips moved and she spoke slightly, almost beyond his hearing. As it was, he heard the foreign sounds and recognized the patterns of speech. The language was unknown, but his pulse quickened with the thought that this woman could possibly be speaking Minith. He answered in Standard.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." The woman recoiled in surprise.

"You... you are human?" Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Grant guessed that his act of violence was the cause.

"Yes. Most of me anyway," he said.

"You are human!" The woman smiled and felt out for Grant. He immediately grabbed her hand in his and squeezed reassuringly, somehow knowing that the woman needed his presence.

“But how did you get here? They do not allow humans here unless they are in the interpreter’s group, and I’ve never heard your voice before."

The words 'interpreter's group' made Grant realize his earlier assumption was correct. This woman spoke Minith. His task here was almost finished. He had only to get them back to Bst’n.

"It's a long story. About six hundred years long to be exact, but that can wait until later. Right now, we have to get out of here. Do you feel up to a little walk? The carrier is a distance away."

"What? You mean leave the ship? We cannot!"

"Oh yes, we can. And it's time we got started. Are you coming or do I have to carry you?"

The woman drew back, suddenly frightened, and began lashing out with her hands and feet. She was nearly hysterical and a lucky shot of her right hand caught Grant in the chin.

"We cannot leave the ship! They will hunt us down and kill us!” she shouted, her voice rising dangerously. “We can't leave! We can’t!"

Grant offered a silent apology. Then hit her with a calm right jab.

He caught her before she hit the floor.

"I'm so glad you saw it my way," he offered as he looked about the apartment for her clothes. As before, he noticed the ugly purple tint of the furniture. Now he realized that no human had chosen the stain and wondered what the woman would think of such a loud shade if she could have seen it.

While putting her into her clothes he tried not to stare at the flawless skin and well formed body, but soon gave up the attempt. She wore a bra and panties under the robe, so he maintained her modesty, but it was impossible not to appreciate her body as he worked. He kept his ears alert for any sound of approach, but all was quiet. He quickly had her dressed and tossed over his left shoulder.

He opened the door to the corridor and looked out. No sign of any aliens. He turned right, stepped over his ghillie suit, and grabbed the handle. Then he heard the footsteps echoing down the corridor. Getting closer to this corridor.

Grant quickly stepped back to the woman’s room. He closed the door and listened. He heard two pairs of footsteps nearing his position at a trot, then slowing to a walk, then finally, stopping. They had seen the ghillie suit. He recognized the faint whisperings of the language the woman had first spoken when she thought he was one of the Minith and that cemented his position. There were two Minith in the hallway. They were probably alerted by the woman’s outburst and now were confronted with a dirty bundle of rags that had no reason for being where they were.

Grant lowered the woman to the sofa. He hoped she would stay quiet. Any noise she made would pinpoint their location for the two outside. Grant pulled the knife from his boot, hoping to take out the first Minith quietly if he decided to search this room.

He made out the whisperings of the Minith again and one of the aliens ran off down the corridor. The other was still outside and Grant positioned himself behind the door and waited, thinking of his earlier attempt at this very action just minutes earlier. This time he would make sure that whoever or whatever came through the door was not human before he acted. He did not want the blood of an innocent human on his hands if he was wrong.

That decision almost got him killed.

The door swung quickly inward, catching Grant by surprise. He had not heard the alien approach the door and his initial hesitation gave the Minith guard a chance to spot him. The guard was huge and well trained. As Grant lunged at the alien's neck, the Minith turned away from the blow, catching it on the shoulder instead. Grant cursed his error and was stung by a crushing backhand from the eight foot tall alien. Grant bounced off the wall and back into the waiting arms of the heavy beast.

The Minith gripped Grant with crushing force and he struggled to bring the knife into play. It was no use. Grant's arms were pinned to his side and he was forced to stare into the hideous face of the Minith. It was Grant's first experience with one of the aliens and it was not a good one. The guard's eyes were fierce with rage and the snout of the beast was set in a vicious snarl. The alien squeezed. Grant saw stars and brought his knee up into the alien’s groin with the force of a sledgehammer. Grant dropped like a stone.

So the fucker had balls.

Grant sucked for breath and grabbed the knife. The knee had the same effect on the Minith as it would have had on a man. The Minith was doubled over and Grant wasted no time. A quick stroke of the knife. Dark purple blood spouted from the alien's neck and splashed wetly across Grant's jump suit. The alien fell, dead or dying.

Grant had little time to savor his victory. He heard the other Minith racing his way and jumped into the corridor to face the threat. The other guard came on at a run and his huge bulk nearly took up the passageway. He slowed when he spied Grant and the dark blood of his fellow. The sight of a human covered in Minith blood was obviously an unexpected one.

Grant did not pause in his actions, however, and drew two of the shurikens from his belt. The sharpened metal stars traced a path toward the alien. The Minith stared at the thrown pieces of metal as they whirled toward him. The first buried itself in his chest. The second took him in the throat. He dropped to his knees and gasped. The plum-colored blood from his torn throat cascaded onto the polished steel floor of the ship.

Grant sprinted to the alien and jerked his throwing stars from the alien’s body. He wiped them on the Minith, tucked them into his belt and dragged the alien’s body into the woman’s room. He picked up the interpreter, stepped across the two dead aliens and closed the door on the bloody carnage.

Sixty seconds later he was outside the ship and stealing quietly back toward the carrier vehicle. He wasted little time with concealment. Silence and speed were needed now. His first experience with the Minith had shown him that hearing was indeed one of their strengths. He made good time across the even ground and hoped for luck. If the bodies of the two aliens were not found within the next hour, they had a chance.

They were in the air, still hours from their destination, when the woman stirred and sat up. Grant knew he had some explaining to do.

"My name is Grant. Who are you?"

"Uh… Avery… my name is Avery." Her voice was soft and cool. She stared ahead, seeing nothing of the sky and earth outside the carrier vehicle.

"Nice name. It suits you.”

"Why... thank you." Avery explored the bump above her right eye and winced. “Why did you commit violence upon me?"

Grant felt like an ass. He wasn’t one for hitting women and detested men who did. She rubbed her jaw and he tried to explain.

"Sorry. I had to get you out of the Minith ship. You didn’t want to come." It sounded lame, even to him. He felt like more of an ass.

"And the first time you struck me?"

Grant had hoped she wouldn't bring it up, but there it was. "An accident. I thought you... Well, I didn't know you were human. I thought--"

"You thought I was one of the Minith?" she asked. Her eyebrows lifted. "Well, that is unusual. Not many people would consider committing violence upon a Minith."

"Does it surprise you that I considered it? That I might even enjoy it?" He considered telling her about the aliens in the corridor and immediately dismissed the idea.

"It would concern me none to see them come to harm. The excuse that violence is always wrong is weak where the Minith are concerned." Her voice was strong with conviction and the words rang true to Grant's ears. This woman was not afraid of violence if it was to be used against the Minith.

"You mean you’re not morally opposed to violence?"

Her voice lowered to a whisper and she spoke in an obscure S'mercan language that Grant recognized. "I am against violence that is committed for the sake of committing violence. But violence that is directed toward freedom from the Minith should not be readily forsaken. That is cowardice."

Grant was surprised. Avery was the first person he had met since his 'revival' that shared his view. It was downright refreshing to see that not all humanity had become sheep for the Minith herd.

“Avery, do you speak Minith?”

”Yes. I am in the interpreter’s group.”

"Correction, Avery. You were in the interpreter's group.” Grant watched as she mulled the words. Her understanding was quickly followed by a flood of tears, and Grant reached out for her hand.

CHAPTER NINE

Zal growled at his Earth's Guard Captain. The male was obviously too soft from having served on this world for so many years.

"How can you tell me that this was no human? Who else would have killed two of our brothers, you fool? A rogue Minith? How do you explain the disappearance of the female, our primary interpreter? Did she vanish into the atmosphere?"

"But sir, the humans cannot commit violence. They--"

"Enough!" Zal pointed at the captain accusingly. "Do not deign to tell me what these humans are capable of doing and not doing! Just because they have been obedient in the past does not mean they will always be so. They are a race which is enslaved! Even the most peaceful of beings resist being ruled by a superior race."

"But sir, the humans have never lashed out against us. Why would they enter the Mother Ship and kill two of my guards? It makes no sense."

"You idiot! It makes every sense! They are our slaves and they dislike the position. I have been on-world for only two weeks but I know what subjugation can do to a race! Hear me speak: This is only the beginning. We must retaliate for this affront to our dominance. I do not care if the killing was the act of a single human or a group of them. The entire race will be punished for it. Notify the human leadership of my decision!"

"Yes, sir.”

"And Captain?"

"Sir?"

"Find the female. That is of extreme importance!"

"It will be done, Minister." The captain bowed and left Zal's chamber, intent on accomplishing his orders.

* * *

"How can they do this? We had nothing to do with it!"

Quasan Alla, the Musl'n Culture leader asked at the news that three of their farms were being destroyed in response to the killing of the two Minith guards.

"This had to be the result of a lone Violent! An insane N’mercan," the Urop'n Culture Leader exclaimed. "Probably this woman for whom the Minith are searching." Sabatina Sabontay glanced accusingly at Randalyn Trevino as if she were personally responsible for what had happened within her Culture's boundary.

Randalyn did not deny the silent accusation though she knew the woman Sabatina referenced was not of her Culture but Esteval's. She accepted the reproach because she felt acutely responsible for this situation. She alone among those in the room knew what transpired in the Minith Mother Ship. She had been briefed by Senior Scientist Rolan only an hour after the warrior's return from that place. As much as she wanted to keep the information from the rest of the Council, she could not. They were responsible for leading the earth as a group.

Randalyn nodded her acceptance of Sabatina's indictment. "I am knowledgeable of the circumstances surrounding this incident, Sabatina." The Urop'n gasped in surprise as did the other members of the Council.

Randalyn briefly explained how the deaths of the two Minith occurred.

There were a few moments of stunned silence, before Primo Esteval spoke. The Leader Elect's voice betrayed none of the emotion that Randalyn knew he felt. "This is our doing, fellow Council Members. We balloted the question of Senior Scientist Rolan's experiment. We, the members of this Council, are equally responsible for what has occurred."

"He must be stopped!" Quasan pleaded. "Tane must cease his experiment now! Before more harm is caused, he must cease!" The voices of the Urop'n and Afc’n Culture Leaders rose in agreement but were cut short by an impatient wave of the leader Elect's hand.

"Perhaps, Quasan. But let us not be hasty. We knew this to be a dangerous undertaking and not without a great degree of risk." Esteval's voice was rational and calming and the members were reminded of why they had elected this man to be the Leader Elect. "It would be foolish to expect the Minith to leave Earth willingly. Success will not arrive without sacrifice. What we must decide now is this: what sacrifices are we willing to make? Until we decide this, we will be unable to proceed on any course.

"If we sacrifice our freedom to the Minith, we know what price we will pay. It is the price of slavery and, eventually, the loss of our planet's life.

"If, however, we desire freedom from the Minith, there is also a price to be paid. My question to you, fellow Culture Leaders is this: What price are we willing to pay should we decide upon freedom?"

Randalyn looked carefully around the table. Her mind was made up, had been for some time. "I vote freedom. At any cost."

The silence lay heavy upon the other Council Chambers as they pondered the decisions and choices before them. Each Culture was represented here and each Culture would be required to live or die with their decision. Ante up their share of whatever price they agreed upon.

"Aye," the As'n representative, Suyung agreed.

"Aye," sighed the Afc’n representative, Diekela.

All eyes turned toward Quasan and Sabontay. Almost a minute passed while the Urop'n and Musl'n Leaders pondered their decision. Finally, Quasan spoke.

"Aye."

Sabatina Sabontay sighed heavily. The ballot was already decided regardless of her vote and she knew this. It did not matter if she agreed with them or not. They would sacrifice Peace to rid their world of the Minith.

"Aye. We fight."

"Aye," the S’mercan Culture Leader and Leader Elect, Primo Esteval said, making the ballot unanimous.