Peace World (33 page)

"We can meet all previous agreements," Grant stated.  "And we can do it a lot quicker than the Minith promised."

Oiloo's head spun a full three-hundred-and-sixty degrees to the left.  "That is acceptable."  The mushy replay was accompanied by a return trip of his head to its original starting position.  Grant filed the info away.  "If shipments do not proceed as agreed, we will be required to take action against you.  We will seize the fields and mine the ore directly."

"We can do without the threats, Oiloo."  Grant's voice hardened and he hoped the squid knew enough about human behavior to take it for the warning it was.  Titan had already volunteered to establish a defensive force on the planet.  If they were going to enter the business of interstellar trade, they were going to do it right.  Protecting their resources and their people was a sensible first step.  "Is there anything else?"

"No.  The shipments are the only items of importance to us."

Grant nodded.  He then sent a thought to Aal, who he had asked to wait in the next room.

"Is he telling the truth, Aal?"

Grant bit his tongue to keep from laughing.  Aal had a sense of humor.  Who knew?

"Funny, Aal.  Tell me, do the other two have the ability to negotiate, or is Oiloo the only one with the authority?"

"Perfect, Aal.  Thanks."
  It was great having a mind reader on his side.  No wonder the Waa had been such excellent traders in their day.  It's easy to negotiate when you know what the other guys are thinking.

"Very well." Grant nodded to his guests.  "I only have one condition before we agree to the shipments."

"Another condition?"  If Grant knew the Zrthns better, he might have known that Oiloo stammered.  As it was, he could only assume.

"Yes, but it is a condition I can only request of the two captains.  Will you excuse us?"

"What?  I will do no such thing.  I negotiate for our side, not these two underlings."

Grant looked at one of the "underlings," then the other.  "Well?"

The captain standing to Oiloo's left looked at his counterpart on the other side and nodded.  The Zrthn on the right reached out one of his tentacles, wrapped it tightly around Oiloo's neck, and pulled him toward the door.  Unable to speak for the tentacle around his neck, Oiloo was dragged from the room without another word.

"What is your condition?"  The captain's voice wasn't as mushy as Oiloo's.  Grant immediately liked this alien much better than he had Oiloo.

"We have an issue," he began.

*     *     *

The Zrthn vessels left the planet as quickly as they had arrived.  One moment they were there, hovering high in the sky above the city.  The next, they were gone.

Grant watched them depart with a heavy heart.  He had traveled more than six hundred chronological years and untold number of light years, and there wasn't much difference between where he had started and where he currently stood.  He knew he would never be free of threats, never have a chance to lead a normal life as a husband and a father.  He would always be a soldier first.  There would always be a threat out there somewhere—some race or tyrant who wanted what someone else possessed, and was willing to kill to get it. 

They had dodged the threat this time, but what about the next?  And it wasn't just humanity he had to protect now.  The Telgorans, the Waa—even the Minith—were his responsibility.  He would protect them—prepare them—to the best of his ability.  Hopefully, it would be enough.

Grant still did not fully understand everything there was to know about peace, but there were some things he did know.  Peace can exist for individuals, and peace can exist for the masses.  Achieving and maintaining peace for the masses requires a collective willingness to fight for the goals of harmony and ceasefire.  And though peace is a communal desire,
true
peace can only be achieved by individuals.  True peace exists in those moments when individuals forget the pain and sorrow that surround them and become wholly absorbed by the good and the cherished. 

True peace had always eluded Grant, but that was okay.  The ancient soldier understood and accepted the role into which fate had cast him.  He was content to cede his individual peace in exchange for defending the peace of the masses.  

He turned toward the mothership and sent a mental search for Aal.

"Tell your folks to hurry up with that new mothership.  And beef up production—we're gonna need as many of them as we can get."

  Ah
, the power of mind-speak.  Aal just had to think it and the rest of the Waa were on board.

Grant entered the ship and came face-to-face with Rala.  She was smiling in that strange way that Minith do and Grant couldn't help but return one of his own.  Things had not worked out for her exactly as she had planned, but he didn't think she had it too bad.  She was still governor of her race.

"Thank you, Grant."

"It was my pleasure, Rala.  I shouldn't ask, but what are you going to do with him?"

"I think I will allow Arok to take care of it.  He misses his brother, and he needs more practice with the bow."  Grant just nodded. He knew he shouldn't have asked, but it was his doing after all—his one condition for keeping the agreement with the Zrthns.  As such, he couldn't absolve himself of the responsibility for whatever happened.  Then again, the Zrthn had brought it on himself.  

He moved aside to allow Rala to pass.  She dragged a struggling Oiloo behind her.

EPILOGUE

The two motherships were pulled into the facility by dual green shafts of light.  The Waa operating the landing beams placed the ships quietly and neatly beside Grant's sparkling new behemoth.  In comparison, the older model vessels seemed tiny and insignificant.

The doors on the nearest ship opened, and the gathered crowd waited with great anticipation to see who would be the first to depart.

A shape filled the doorway, then stepped down onto the soil of Waa. 
Treel.
  Grant nodded, appreciative of the choice.  Someone had been thinking.

Treel looked around, spied the group waiting fifty meters away, then raised a hand.  Grant laughed as Rala, trailed tentatively by Arok, split from his group and sprinted for her mate.  They had been separated for far too long, and she had much to tell him about his family, his planet, and his race. 

Grant spotted an unexpected face stepping from the ship behind Treel and frowned.  He had thought only those with family were to be on the first ships.  It should have been expected, though.  Randalyn was a Culture Leader and it was obvious that the Council would want to send one of their own to check up on him.  His frown turned to surprise when Sergeant Becka Conway screamed, waved, and took off across the landing pad.  The surprise became shock when the two crashed into each other's arms.  The feelings they shared were obvious, though, and Grant wondered why it was he'd had no clue.  Randalyn and Conway? It was un-freaking-believable.  But he was happy for them. 

Then he spied Eli.  The boy had gotten bigger in the past year, and he barely recognized him.  When Avery stepped from the ship, Grant was already moving, anxious to meet his family and welcome them to their new home.

For the moment, he was at peace.

The End

From the Author

I finished this book on September 11
^th
, 2011, the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the U.S.  It wasn't my intention to finish the book that day—I didn't wake up and say, "Hey, it's 9/11.  I think I'll finish the trilogy now."  But that's how it worked out, and I'm glad it did.  In a way, much of what I've put into this story is a result of the events of that day, and what has taken place in the world since then. 

Thank you for reading this book.  Hopefully, you enjoyed it.  If you did, please leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, or wherever you purchased it.  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 all I can say is "I did my best." If you want to let me know where it fell short, there will be no bad feelings on my part, I promise.  I will take your feedback to heart, and try to improve—if not on this one, then certainly on the next.  That's a promise.  

I also need to thank those who made this book possible.  Although my name is on the cover, it's a labor that had been touched by many hands, eyes, brains and hearts.  As always, a big thank you goes out to my beta readers.  Without your help, this would be a much lesser effort:  Dave Jenks, L.G. Simmons, Tim Scanlon, Jon Huston, and my wife, Juanita.

A big thank you goes out to my editor, Tristi Pinkston.  Thanks to your help, I now stop and consider if it's
really
helping the story whenever I include an "eff" bomb.  If it doesn't, I quickly replace it with a "damn," or a "hell," or some other equally gratuitous, but marginally less offensive, curse word. 

As usual, I want to thank Sabrina Kleis for her work on the book's cover.  She has done all three covers for the trilogy and I think they are great.  You can see more of her outstanding work on her website: 
www.7-days.net
.

Finally, I need to thank my family for graciously dealing with all the "shushes", the warning looks, and the "I'm trying to write" comments I routinely send their way when trying to complete a scene.  Their willingness to overlook all the family events I've missed and my inability to reach the dinner table on time never ceases to astound me. 

About the Author

Steven L. Hawk spent six years as a Military Intelligence Specialist with the U.S. Army's 82nd Airborne Division before joining the ranks of corporate America. He has a B.S. in Business Management from Western Governor's University and is a certified Project Management Professional (PMP).  He has traveled extensively across the United States and, at various times, has lived in Georgia, North Carolina, West Virginia, Massachusetts, California and Idaho. 

He currently resides in Boise, Idaho with his wife, Juanita.  Together, they have a blended family of five sons:  Paul, Gordo, Aaron, Taylor and Steven Jr.

This is his third published novel.  For more information, you can follow him via the following channels:

Website:           www.SteveHawk.com

Linkedin:         
http://www.linkedin.com/in/stevenhawk

Twitter:            @stevenhawk

Facebook:        http://www.facebook.com/steven.hawk1