Peace World (18 page)

"Now that you mention it, yes.  It does appear that way, sir.  Would you like for us to engage?"

"Negative at this time, Alpha One.  There are too many of our troops mixed in.  How are you and yours doing on ammunition and fuel?"

"All flight units report good on both, sir.  We can stay up here a while longer."

"Sounds good, Alpha One.  I want half your fighters to take up a watch position over the mothership.  The other half should stand by over the field below in case we need your support."

"Roger that, sir."

"Alpha Two, do you copy those orders?"

"Yes, sir.  Half over the mothership, the other half over the skirmish line."

"That's correct.  Both of your teams did well.  Now it's time for our
earthies
to earn their pay."

CHAPTER 23

Despite the intentions of the Minith, the buildings that made up Violent's Prison were largely unaffected by the landing of the two motherships.  Though blackened, the ten-foot-thick stone walls that formed the outer perimeter of the fortress absorbed most of the intense heat and protected the spaces within. 

Inside the darkened apartment on the southeast corner of the Outer Square, Eli, Adrienne, and Jonah huddled as the two ships landed.  Except for the fear and trepidation each felt, the arrival of the aliens was fairly uneventful for the trio.  The roar of the ships' engines was muted by the thick outer walls and they felt only a slight, but noticeable, increase in room temperature.

"So, what do we do now?"

Jonah's question went unanswered as Eli worked through the problem, sorting out possibilities and scenarios.  Another quick look around the southeast corner of the Outer Square showed an agitated, but still alert, guard outside Treel's room.

"We need a distraction," Eli finally answered.  He looked at Adrienne and explained his plan.  "Here's what we need to do."

Five minutes later, Adrienne—still wearing her blades—rolled around the corner at top speed and headed directly for the guard fifty meters away.  As planned, she was crying and waving her arms.  Eli and Jonah had retreated to the closest apartment to wait.

"Help me! Please!" 

Eli heard Adrienne's voice cut through the empty corridor, and he could imagine the surprise on the guard's face as the nine-year-old suddenly appeared.  Except for a handful of key military personnel, the prison was supposed to be empty.  Except for the four humans and one Minith in this corner of the structure, Eli doubted there was anyone else in the Outer Square.  

Eli could not hear the exchange that must be taking place outside Treel's room.  He looked to Jonah, who shook his head and shrugged, apparently unable to hear anything either.  Eli shrugged in return, sending the message that all they could do was to wait and hope.

The wait seemed to last forever, but at last they heard Adrienne's voice as she came back around the corner with the guard in tow. 

"You have to help them.  Please help them," she cried.

"Of course, lass.  Just lead the way.  We'll find your friends."

As planned, Adrienne continued past the room where the two boys were hidden and led the guard down the corridor, away from them and from Treel.  Eli had counted on the guard's judgment, empathy, and common sense to move him away from his post.  The alien was firmly secured behind a locked door and there was no one in the prison to open that door.  Who wouldn't help a child and her two friends who had been mistakenly left behind?

Eli waited sixty seconds, then quickly poked his head out the apartment door.  Adrienne and her escort were a hundred meters down the corridor and showed no sign of turning around.  He gave Jonah a nod, and then quietly scampered around the corner as fast as his blades would carry him.  He did not look back or wait to see if Jonah followed—he just headed straight for Treel's room.

He skidded to a stop outside the recessed doorway and was immediately joined by the twelve-year-old.  He looked at the older boy and nodded.

"You ready?"

Jonah seemed nervous.  He looked back over his shoulder to the distant corner, then met Eli's gaze.  He nodded in return.

"Let's do it."

Eli grasped the handle of the door and turned.  As expected, it turned without protest.  The door was only secured from the inside.  Treel could not get out, but anyone could get in.  

"Hey, ya big booger.  Wake up."

The words clawed their way through the putty surrounding his tired mind and Treel forced one eye open.  Sure enough, the little human stood inside the doorway to his cage.  He was accompanied by another of the young male humans.  The other boy looked familiar, but most humans looked alike, so he could not be certain they had ever met.

"Eli," he acknowledged through the fuzzy blanket of interrupted slumber.  "What are you doing here?"

Treel knew Eli and his companion should have been removed to a safer location like the rest of the humans who occupied the building.  The fact they were standing before him, combined with the fact that the human soldier posted outside would never allow them into his room, alerted Treel that something unusual was happening.

"I said you could trust me, Treel," Eli explained calmly.  "I'm here to make sure you get to a mothership."

There was that word again.  Trust.  Perhaps it did mean something to humans.

Whatever. 

He gave the human child what he hoped would pass for a smile and pushed himself off the floor.  The short rest had done little to erase the fatigue gripping his mind and body, but the Minith soldier recognized an opportunity when it presented itself.

"Where is the guard?"

"He's gone for now, but he could be back at any time," Grant's son explained.  "We need to go now."

The fake smile Treel had pasted to his face was immediately replaced by a real one.  His ears twitched anxiously.

Trust
. 

He reveled in the naïve lunacy that the human concept fostered in its believers. 

*     *     *

The empty carrier made good time as it passed over the crowded cities and open farms of the N'mercan sub-farms that surrounded them.  Ceeray checked the time and estimated she would shave half an hour from the three hours the trip had taken from the prison with a full load of passengers.

This was her first time piloting one of the airborne carriers—though using the term "piloting" was a bit of a stretch.  The vehicles could be operated manually or via automated entries.  The choice for the former Minith interpreter had been easy—automated flying.  She vocally entered Violent's Prison into the voice recognition system as her destination and instructed the vehicle to proceed at its top speed.  From there, the vehicle did the rest.  Even with such simple controls, she was thankful that she had paid attention to the pilots on each of her dozen or so previous flights. 

Now, an hour after the fact, she felt guilty at having taken the carrier without permission.  But that guilt paled in comparison to the thought that she had failed Avery, Eli, and the other children.  She knew if she had done her job properly, they would be safely tucked away inside the deep caverns of the mine with the rest of the civilians who had been evacuated.  She recalled the large group of children she had helped load and the chaos that had surrounded them as they boarded the carriers.  She also remembered being distracted by a need to take in the panorama that surrounded the prison, and by thoughts of Derk.  Bottom line, it was her fault the three children had missed their flight, and she was determined to set it right. 

Even if it had not been her fault, she could not bear seeing Avery in such distress.  That rekindled friendship was the most important thing in her life.  The other woman was like a sister, and, since losing Derk six years earlier, had become her first real connection to the rest of humanity.  For Ceeray, the years spent on Telgora were a constant battle with depression, loneliness, and—she could now admit to herself—suicide.  She was not always pleasant to be around during those years of exile, but had struggled through each day for the sake of Titan and Gee. 

Now she was struggling through each day for her own sake, and for the future she could now envision.  And that future did not include a scenario where her best friend had to struggle with the loss of her only child. 

To no effect, she willed the carrier to go faster. 

*     *     *

The three passed through the Outer Square without incident.  They arrived at the east exit, crossed the open courtyard to the exterior wall, and gazed across the blackened, smoking ruins that surrounded Violent's Prison.  An hour earlier, the open fields around the giant set of buildings had been filled with tanks, carriers, and soldiers.  Now, only the husks of the destroyed tanks, sitting among the burnt, smoking wreckage of death, were still recognizable.

Treel felt an anxious stir of excitement and pride at what his brothers had accomplished with their landing.  There were no human forces left standing between him and the mothership.

The mothership. 

It stood tall and massive, even from this distance.  Though not as large as the prison, its shiny silhouette commanded the view from the eastern entrance.  It signaled the possibility of freedom for the captured fighter, it signaled the possibility of home and family.  Without conscious thought, Treel stepped out of the shadow of the entranceway and onto the baked ground that went as far as he could see.  The lure of the ship pulled him.

He was yanked back from the siren's call by the small voice at his side.

"I'm going to miss you, Treel," Eli said.  "You were a good chess partner."

Treel pulled his eyes away from the ship and looked at his two companions—the young humans who had released him.  What would become of them?  He tried, but could not summon the ability to care.  The allure of the ship was too strong.  The belief that he was within reach of his dream—the dream of returning to his sons and to his mate—dulled all other desires or feelings.

He did not wish any harm upon the young human.  Even though he was the offspring of the man responsible for his captivity, Treel wished him no ill will.  If he had been capable of such emotions toward a human, he felt he might have even liked Eli in a way.  But their respective species were in a battle for Earth now, and that battle dictated their respective alliances.  Just as in chess, the game was underway, and they sat upon different sides of the board.

Treel turned back to the ship.  He saw no humans anywhere, but heard the sound of distant firing, and the fight was progressing to the south, away from their position and away from the ship. 

He tested the ground ahead of him, felt the heat of the ship's engines still rising from it in hot waves.  But it was passable.  

Now was the time to move.

"Do not move." 

Treel spun on his heel, knowing what he would find.  He had been a fool to delay—a fool to not watch his back.  As expected, the human guard had found them.  He was standing in the courtyard, his weapon pointed convincingly at the small group. 

Without a second's pause, Treel reached out and nimbly snatched the two small humans to his chest.  He gripped them tightly, his large muscular arms easily circling their bodies.

"What—" the older boy managed to squeal before Treel flexed his arms and squeezed the breath from his lungs.  To Eli's credit, he did not cry out.

"Put the boys down!"

"Not likely, human.  Put down your rifle or—" Treel gave the older boy another tight squeeze.  The bulging eyes and weak gasps showed the boy's distress and revealed the Minith warrior's intent.  He was too close to escape now.  If he had to kill the boy to prove his intent, he would do so.

The human soldier wavered, as Treel knew he would.  These humans cared for each other and could not bear to see one of their own in danger.  It was a weakness, and one that he would gladly capitalize on.

"Let him go, Corporal Johnson," Eli yelled to the guard.  "He just wants to go home to his wife and sons!"

"You helped him escape?"

"Yes.  Treel trusts me and I trust him.  He just wants to go home.  That's all."

That
word
again.

"That's General Justice's child in your arms, Minith.  If you hurt him—"

"He's not gonna hurt us.  You can trust him," Eli shouted.  He turned his face upwards and spoke to Treel.  "Tell him he can trust you, Treel."

What
?

"If you want to show trust, alien, then put the boy down.  Put them both down."

Treel was not about to give up his only leverage against continued captivity.  Both boys would be coming with him to the ship.  They would ensure his safe passage across the burnt landscape.  He shook his head like a human.

"When I reach the ship, they will be free to go," he offered the human soldier.  With nothing to lose, he offered the word.  "I offer trust."

"No," Eli corrected.  "Tell him he can trust you."

"You can …
trust
… me."  Treel had no illusions that the human would believe him. 

Until he lowered his weapon.

Unbelievable.

The word had worked.

With the weapon no longer pointed in his direction, Treel turned and ran.  Even carrying the two boys, he soon felt like he was flying.  His legs, stunted by the extended confinement, stretched and loosened as they churned across the ashes covering the plain.  Each footfall kicked up a small geyser of black dust that the wind blew in the direction they traveled.  When they reached the mothership ten minutes later, all three of them were covered in a fine layer of blackened soot.

He set the boys on their feet and slapped his human-provided jumpsuit.  He did not want his first appearance before his people to be marred by a dirty uniform, but the motions were useless, and he quickly gave up. 

"Follow me," he ordered, then set off for the closest portal into the ship. 

"But you said we could go," the older boy, Jonah, reminded him.