Peace World (30 page)

Activity halted as the words blared from the speakers set into the walls.  The unexpected question—delivered in Earth Standard—was accompanied by a flash of light from the view screens to Mouse's left.  The flash quickly dissolved into a view of another room just like the one where he stood, and Mouse found himself looking into the command center of another mothership. 

No one spoke; they just stared at each other.  Mouse felt a tug on his arm and looked down to see Eli pulling his sleeve.

"He means you," Grant's son said.

Right.  Me.

"Um.  I'm in charge of Earth's armed forces, Shan.  General Mouse."

"Ah, a general.  Very good.  When I was on Earth some years ago, there were no generals.  No armed fighters, either."

"Well, things have changed."

"Yes, they certainly have, General Mouse," Shan agreed.  "Your forces are very well armed.  They need more training, but their superior equipment makes up for the deficiency."

"Well, we try, Shan.  Do you have a point in contacting us, or are we going to chat all day?"

The Minith's ears twitched and his eyes squinted.  Mouse wondered what the movements meant—thought they probably meant the green guy was a bit irritated.  If he had been on Earth before, he had obviously stepped into a situation he hadn't expected.  Earth had an army now—and as the alien had noted, it was
very
well armed.

"Minith warriors don't 'chat,' General.  We leave that nonsense to our administrators and politicians."

"Well, perhaps we have a different definition for the word, Shan."  Mouse was not about to cower.  He was operating from a position of strength.  His forces had just kicked some serious ass, and
he
was the one standing in General Soo's ship.  "I assume you have a point.  Perhaps you should get to it."

Again with the ear twitch.

"Yes.  I have a
point
.  My warriors have captured your Leadership Council.  How is that for a point?"

"Actually, Shan, it's rather dull for a point," Mouse countered.  "Allow me to provide you with
my
points.  First—your forces, while they do have our Council under guard, are pinned in place.  If they try to leave their current locations, we will shoot them down.

"Second—as you can see, we have taken over one of your motherships.  The second ship on this continent is surrounded, and we anticipate taking it over within the hour."  Mouse looked to Treel, who had been in communication with the commander of the second ship for nearly thirty minutes.  The alien gave a curt nod, and Mouse could not suppress a smile.  "In fact, I've just received word that the Minith on board that vessel have agreed to our claim of dominance.  It's an interesting law you Minith have—defeat the leader to become the leader."

"I assume Soo is dead?"

"Oh, yeah," Mouse confirmed.  He pulled Eli forward so Shan could see him clearly.  "Would you like to meet the human who killed him?" 

"It was us or them," Eli mumbled.

"But let me continue with our 'chat.'  Where was I?  Oh yes, point number three.  Our forces in Urop now have your two ships surrounded—as you already know. 

"The reality of the situation is clear,
Master
Shan.  You thought you could bring a few thousand troops to Earth and beat us back into submission.  What you didn't take into account is that we aren't going to be beaten into submission.  You don't have the personnel, the equipment, the motivation, or the intelligence to defeat us."  Mouse placed his large, dark hands on Eli's shoulders.  "Hell, your general couldn't even defeat a six-year-old boy."

"I'm almost seven."

*     *     *

Shan fumed. 

The humans had defeated them.  He had known it even before opening up the communication with Soo's ship.  The unexpected sight of humans occupying the craft had merely solidified that knowledge into undeniable reality.

The question now was, what to do about it?

He still had the leverage of possessing the human leaders, but how could he use it?  The darkly colored male who led the humans was correct in his assessment.  Shan's forces in the city were pinned, two motherships were already captured, and the remaining two—one of which
he
currently occupied—would soon follow suit.  He had no doubt that the weapons the human employed were capable of blasting holes into the motherships.  The agsel with which they were built was incredibly strong, but it had its limits.

Having the human leaders did him no good.  He could kill them, but what advantage would that offer? 

None
.

That left three options.  Surrender, suicide, or bluff.  Self-preservation ran strong in Shan's veins.  Taking his own life, through use of the planet-destroying weapon on the ship, was not something he would ever do.  Unlike some of his race, he had no desire to die on a distant world to protect Minith honor.  He would rather cede position now, so he lived to regroup and fight at a later date. 

That left surrender and bluff. 

Surrendering to the humans was the most likely option, but he had to avoid it if at all possible, which left…
bluff
.

"General Mouse, you have summed up the situation quite nicely.  Unfortunately, you may not understand all of the factors at play."

"You mean the planet-buster all your motherships carry?" 

Shan tried to retain his composure.  Apparently, the humans knew of the device. 

"Yeah, we know all about it.  What
you
fail to understand is that we are willing to die for our freedom from you and your kind.  We've been under your heel before—and we refuse to go back.  If that means we go 'boom,' then so be it."

*     *     *

It was a total bluff. 

Mouse had neither the authority nor the desire to make such a decision for the
entire
world.  But this green goblin didn't know that.  His only hope was to stall long enough for his ground forces to do their jobs and take over the motherships before the Minith could activate the weapon.

"What do you say, Shan?  No one else needs to die today."

"What are you suggesting, human?"

"The only thing I'm suggesting is that you follow your own law.  We've defeated you.  We've shown our dominance over your forces.  Have your troops release our leaders and put down their weapons."

"And then what?  We become prisoners on your planet?"

"There are worse options.  Death, either by our hands or your own, seems like the most likely."

"Many of my warriors would choose death over capture, general."

Mouse picked up on the fact that Shan had said many of
his warriors
would choose death over capture—not the
he
would make that choice.  It was a small, but important, distinction.  The alien had left an opening and Mouse pushed to take advantage of it.   

"Capture wouldn't be so bad, Shan.  We've treated Treel well since he's been here.  I can offer you similar treatment."

"No!" Eli shouted and turned toward Mouse.  "Treel needs to get home!  Tell him they can
all
go home, Uncle Mouse."

Mouse growled.  He felt the Minith was close to agreeing, and Eli's interruption was a distraction he didn't need right now. 

"Quiet, Eli.  I don't have the authority for that.  That's a decision for the Council."  He glared at the boy, tried to send a silent message to not interfere.  Unfortunately, Eli was having none of it.

"It's not right!  Treel's been away from his family for years and years.  I told him he could trust me.  He needs to get back to them!"

"You don't understand—"

"Yes, I do!  It's the right thing!  Anyway, the Council
can't
decide.  They're captured. 
You
have to do it!"

Mouse had had enough.  He waved over another of his soldiers.  "Take Eli back to Violent's Prison.  Now." 

The young fighter, a corporal, moved quickly to grab Eli by the upper arm.  He tugged slightly, clearly not wanting to hurt the boy.

"You can't keep him here. It's not right!"  Eli shouted and struggled against the soldier, who finally had to lift and carry him from the room.  Mouse continued to hear the shouts for another minute before they finally diminished.

The Minith did not wait long to break the resulting silence.

"The young human makes an interesting point, General."  Shan said.  "I could agree to releasing your leaders and ceasing all fighting.  In exchange, you agree to allow those of us who remain to return to Waa."

Mouse sighed.  Thanks to Eli, the decision before the Minith was no longer a matter of capture or death—Mouse was certain the alien was leaning heavily away from death.  The alien now had another alternative, and had latched onto it quickly. 

The weariness of the past weeks settled into Mouse's bones, made itself comfortable on his tired back and shoulders.  The last several hours of battle had sapped the final dregs of his willpower and strength, and it was all he could do not to flop to the floor and put his head in hands.  More than anything, Mouse just wanted this all to be over. 

He had often counseled Grant not to make decisions before running them past the Council.  But Eli was right.  The human leadership was in the hands of the enemy—they couldn't decide.  It was up to him.  And he decided.

"Okay, Master Shan.  I agree."  Mouse couldn't believe he was making the deal.  Moreover, he couldn't believe that the fight against the Minith—something Earth had spent years preparing for—seemed to finally be over.  There might be future conflicts or battles with the aliens, but
this
one
had been won, and he used that knowledge to make the deal.  "Release our Leadership Council.  Then have your fighters leave their weapons on the ground.  Once my teams are in control of each command center, we can work out how to get your fighters back on board."

"I'll alert my forces at once."  The screen went blank as the video feed was cut.  Mouse debated contacting Shan with a demand to keep the view of his command room on the screen, but dismissed the idea.  If Shan wanted to renege on the deal, Mouse would know soon enough.  Until something made him believe otherwise, he would hold tight to the idea that the battle was over.  For now.

His shoulders slumped as the tension began to ebb from his body.  He thought Grant might have been proud of him for his actions today—for the actions of the entire army he had built from nothing more than a few hundred Violents and the desire to be free from the aliens' control.  But it was likely that his friend was dead.  If he wasn't dead, where was he?

Mouse notice Treel at the console.  The last time he had visited the alien in his quarters, the Minith had been pacing restlessly.  Now, he sat quietly, almost serenely, and the human general thought he understood why.

"Looks like you may be going home soon, Treel."

The alien curled his lips upward and his ears twitched rapidly.

CHAPTER 35

Today is the day
, Truk thought as his vehicle pushed through the crowds surrounding the massive stage.  The armed soldiers surrounding the vehicle did their best to clear a path through which his driver could pass, but the progress was agonizingly slow.  He took the time to rehearse his speech and to consider what his words and actions would mean for him.

He had been governor of his people—the highest-ranking Minith in the galaxy—for six years.  In the eyes of most, he was already a success. 

But not in the eyes of all. 

Truk knew many considered him an unworthy imposter—a poser whose sudden attainment of the supreme position was granted through default.  The position was a prize worthy of his personal greatness, he knew, but one that was tarnished by the notion that it had been won for him by the humans who destroyed the home world. 

But today's events would change all that.  After today, all Minith would recognize him as one of the best leaders—if not
the
best
leader—their people had ever known.  He would be acknowledged as the ruler who crushed the destroyers of the home world. 

The vehicle rode high, and from his seat at the rear, he could see over the heads of the packed masses who had come to view this special remembrance ceremony.  The fact that he had ordered them here did not detract from the pleasure he felt knowing they were waiting for
him
.  He quickly scanned the crowd for weapons and noticed none.  Good.  They were following his orders on that point as well.  The only armed Minith he wanted at the event were those that had been selected to provide him with protection.  Anonymous assassination wasn't common among their kind—it usually came from someone close, someone you knew—but it wasn't a complete impossibility. 

They drew closer to the stage, and Truk, seeing it for the first time, marveled at its beauty and its size.  It was exactly as he'd envisioned.  Located at the far end of the open facility, the three-meter-high platform sat slightly above the tallest Minith in the crowd.  It was ten meters deep and forty meters wide, which would offer more than enough room for the surprises he had in store for the horde.  In the center of the main stage, a five-meter-squared dais was positioned to elevate Truk another meter.  Surrounding the edges of the main stage, a two-meter-deep standing platform had been built to accommodate his armed guards.  The standing platform was a meter lower than the main stage so the guards stationed there would not obstruct the view of the crowd. Around the stage, a ten-meter no-entry area was enforced with metal dividers and another rank of armed soldiers.

Behind the stage, the massive screen showed a video projection of his vehicle as it made its way forward.  Truk smiled.  Everything was just as he had imagined it.  Rala had performed well.

"Ghin, remind me to congratulate Trade Minister Rala on her performance."

"Yes, sir," the aide acknowledged.  He fidgeted with his uniform, and Truk got the impression the younger Minith was primping for the coming events.  As his aide and personal bodyguard, Ghin would be the only other Minith allowed on the stage during the ceremony.  He no doubt wanted to look his best.