CROSS FIRE Page 7

  “How long do they live after Hardening?”

  “We estimate a hundred and forty Earth years on average,” Soldier Werth replied. “The younger ones at the front, perhaps twenty or thirty years longer than that. Human exocellular technology continues to improve, as does medical care.”

  Donovan strained to keep listening, but the two Soldiers passed out of his hearing range as they continued their conversation down the aisle. Several minutes passed. Jet nudged Donovan’s foot with his own; the two of them exchanged a sideways glance. Jet’s creased eyebrows asked: What the … ?

  Donovan’s shoulders rose in reply: Hell if I know.

  They faced sharply forward again as the two zhree returned down the center, the visiting Soldier still asking questions. “How do you compare their intelligence to other Class Two species such as the vosnumi, or the delkrans of Sirye?”

  “I have limited prior experience working with delkrans and even less with vosnumi.” The tone of Soldier Werth’s answers was growing increasingly terse. “But by all accounts, and my own observations, humans compare favorably. More aggressive than the vosnumi, perhaps, and shorter-lived than the delkrans, but just as intelligent, arguably more so.” Soldier Werth came to a sudden hard stop a few rows from the end of the aisle, less than ten feet from where Donovan stood. “If you’ll indulge me for asking, Soldier Gur, what is the purpose of these questions? The communication from Kreet left me under the impression that you were here to assess troop levels. Yet you haven’t been to the orbital defense platforms or our surface military facilities. Instead, the first thing you ask to see are the Hardened humans. Why?”

  With his purposeful but slightly off-kilter gait, Soldier Gur took a few steps back toward Werth. “I understand your confusion.” Four of Gur’s eyes slid shut as he focused the nearer two on the other Soldier. “The High Speaker sent me here not merely to evaluate military assets on Earth, but to develop a drawdown schedule.”

  Soldier Werth went still. “Then the Council has already decided.”

  “The High Speaker is communicating the specifics to Administrator Seir as we speak,” Soldier Gur said. “After a considerable amount of deliberation, the Homeworld Council has decided that the Commonwealth shall begin withdrawing its presence from Earth.”

  When Soldier Werth finally spoke again, his voice sounded oddly off-key. “The Council cannot possibly have yet fully evaluated our proposal to maintain the colony with reduced investment.”

  “It is the opinion of the High Speaker and the Homeworld Council that the colonial proposal relies too heavily on human involvement, and as such is an unreliable long-term solution. Given our vulnerability to the Rii in this sector, withdrawal is the most strategically sound option. The reduction in force will be gradual, but will commence as soon as possible. The High Speaker has appointed me to oversee the process.”

  Donovan forgot his earlier instructions to himself and turned his head to stare aghast at the two Soldiers. The only reason he knew he hadn’t misunderstood was the fact that Soldier Werth also appeared to be having a difficult time taking in the news. Werth’s fins began to move in response, then stopped, then moved again as he spoke in a single, flat, heavy note. “I see.”

  “You’re disappointed,” Soldier Gur observed matter-of-factly. “That’s understandable. You’ve devoted the work of your erze to this faraway colony and it will be difficult to transition away from it.” Gur raised a limb to stave off response and his voice took on an encouraging tone. “However, don’t fear that your time and experience here were a waste. I’ve led my erze on deployments to twelve different star systems and twenty-five different planets, and I can assure you: The Mur Commonwealth will have need of you and your Soldiers elsewhere. I even doubt that being hatched out here will be much of a disadvantage to you in the long run.”

  “You haven’t yet answered my question, zun,” Soldier Werth said, his fins moving barely enough to be understood, “regarding your interest in humans.”

  “Humans are the most problematic factor in determining a drawdown schedule,” said Gur. “As a sentient Class Two species on a Mur colonial holding, they’re technically entitled to Commonwealth protection. Theoretically, once the Council reneges claim on the planet, as it presumably will after the withdrawal is complete, then that obligation would cease.” Gur tapped pincer fingers thoughtfully against a leg as he peered at the humans around them. “But humans are not found anywhere else and there’s something about the Hardened ones that makes them seem … almost zhree. Considering the Rii threat in this part of the galaxy, failure to make arrangements for the preservation of a fellow exocel-enabled species would be politically frowned upon on Kreet and, I warrant, unacceptable to Earth-hatched colonists.”

  Soldier Gur was certainly a homeworlder, but he was unlike the High Speaker. Donovan remembered how skeptical and disdainful the High Speaker had been of humans; Gur seemed too worldly and seasoned a Soldier to view them with any particular scorn or esteem. Humans were an operational challenge to be accounted for, as simple as that.

  “When the time comes, we will need to evacuate a population of humans with us. The question is how many, and which ones.” Soldier Gur gestured down the field at the surrounding exos. “Fortunately, I can commend you colonials for having established a selection process already. You’ve already screened for intelligent, healthy, skilled humans to bring into your erze, and the Hardened ones are robust enough for interstellar travel. That is an excellent starting point. It will still be complicated—we will have to consult each erze and optimize across multiple factors to ensure a genetically viable and socially functional population. Your expertise in humans will be invaluable in this regard, Soldier Werth.” Gur’s eyes were still fixed on Werth, and now his fins snapped in firm expectation. “As will your leadership in maintaining erze morale and aiding me in all aspects of the drawdown process.”

  Donovan had always associated three figures in his life with total authority: his father, Soldier Werth, and Commander Tate. He goggled in disbelief now to see both his commander and his erze master struck dumb. Commander Tate’s face was a gathering storm cloud over her clenched jaw. At first, Soldier Werth was like a statue; then his fins cut sharply through the air. “You will have whatever assistance you require, zun. We may be a frontier colony, but we understand erze duty as well as any Soldiers of the Commonwealth.”

  “I expect no less,” said Soldier Gur, dipping his fins in acknowledgment. He began to walk again, all six eyes sliding open once more. “Now I would like to address these humans. Do they understand our language?”

  “Some of them, to varying extents.” For a second, Donovan thought two of Soldier Werth’s eyes rested on him, noticing him standing nearby and realizing that the human had heard and understood all that had been said. Werth followed Soldier Gur. “I’ll have a translation machine brought out.”

  Sweat trickled down Donovan’s neck; he felt it sticking his uniform shirt to his back. His heart was galloping as if he’d run for miles. Was this really happening? Had he just heard the conversation that sealed the fate of Earth and the entire human species? A couple more minutes passed in sweltering silence. It was unbearable. Donovan wanted to move, to look around, to see who else realized the truth. He bit his tongue and held his place silently.

  At last, a portable platform and a translation machine were brought out from the nearest building by a non-Hardened staff member who gaped openly at the foreign zhree and retreated with haste. Soldier Gur ascended the two steps of the platform so that he stood visibly overlooking the entire assembly of exos. “Soldiers-in-erze.” The translation machine relayed Gur’s words in a magnified baritone human voice. “Changes are forthcoming. Do not be anxious about them. Your erze master will explain everything you need to know at such time as you need to know them. What has not changed are your duties; you will continue to perform them as you always have.” Soldier Gur spoke even slower and more deliberately than usual, as if doing so would aid in the
humans’ understanding. “The one change you must be aware of now is this: I will be remaining on Earth along with three hundred of my Soldiers.” He gestured in example to the three standing behind him. “They are of equal authority to the Soldiers you are already accustomed to. Any orders given by myself or by them are to be considered erze orders. Obey them as you would obey instruction from your erze master.” Gur stepped off the platform.

  Visible discontent pervaded the exo ranks now. The officers shifted, expressions of stifled incredulity on every face. Soldier Werth’s fins were flattening in even more severe displeasure. Donovan imagined it was already hard enough for Werth to accept that this homeworlder was taking over; it was a deeper cut still for Gur to claim all the exos wearing Werth’s markings were now under his authority.

  Donovan doubted the foreigner could read unhappy human facial expressions, but if Gur noticed Werth’s simmering anger, he didn’t react to it. “There’s more to discuss regarding the humans, but it can wait until I’ve assessed the other variables.” Gur began striding away toward the skimmercar, expecting the other Soldier to follow. “What percentage of your Soldiers were hatched on Earth?”

  Soldier Werth delayed a beat, just long enough to exchange a wordless glance with Commander Tate. Five of his eyes blinked so that for an instant, only one was staring directly at his highest-ranking exo. One of his fins made a short slash in the air. The line of Commander Tate’s jaw flexed as she jammed her lips together and nodded.

  “Sixty-three percent,” Werth said in answer to his interrogative guest as he strode after Gur. The musical zhree voices faded as they drew away, Gur’s retinue following behind. Commander Tate waited until all the zhree had returned to the skimmercar. Then she turned back to the now excruciatingly stiff and disgruntled exos. “At ease,” she said.

  They broke into motion and shouting at once. “So that homeworld shroom is in charge now?” “Are the zhree really going to leave?” “Can someone tell those of us who were in the back what they were talking about? We couldn’t hear a thing!”

  Tate raised both of her hands, and when that didn’t result in the usual silence she commanded, she bellowed, “Get a grip, stripes!” They quieted sufficiently for her to continue. “We don’t know nearly enough to go bursting our nodes yet. I’ll talk to Soldier Werth and get more clarity around what’s really going on and what we can expect.” Tate had her sharp, energetic authority back but still wore the expression of a person who’d been hit by a bus and was dazedly trying to pick up scattered belongings and remember where she’d been going before the accident. “When I find out more, you’ll hear it. In the meantime, don’t go spreading panic. Keep this to yourselves.”

  “Commander,” Katerina called out, raising a hand. “Is it true, what the homeworlder said? That from now on, he and his Soldiers are the ones in charge, and orders from them are erze orders?”

  Commander Tate’s eyes lit with a cold blaze. “I don’t want any of you disrespecting the foreign Soldiers or giving them the slightest reason to pay attention to us. But you don’t answer to anyone with different stripes.” She looked around. “Let’s get out of this scorching heat already. And back to work, before Sapience realizes we’ve all gone on extended lunch break.”

  They were dismissed, but no one seemed to be leaving. They milled about on the field, speculating anxiously. Before Donovan could take two steps, he was surrounded. Everyone knew how well he understood the Mur language, and they’d seen that he’d been standing near enough to hear most of the conversation between Gur and Werth. “What did they say?” Claudius demanded. “It sounded like they were talking about evacuating. That can’t be right, can it?”

  Cass and Jet were moderately fluent in Mur and had also heard much of what had transpired. They exchanged worried and uncertain glances with each other, then looked to Donovan. “What does this mean?” Cass asked in a near whisper.

  Donovan met the disbelieving gazes of his erze mates. He barely heard the words come out of his own mouth. “The end of the world as we know it.”

  Six days after Soldier Gur’s pronouncement, Donovan and Jet crowded in next to Tennyson and Lucius along a side wall of the packed Comm Hub briefing hall. People were talking in small groups, their voices strained. Tennyson said, “You guys seen the news? The sapes are celebrating. A crowd of them attacked that big protest march in Denver.”

  “Everything’s going to hell,” Lucius muttered.

  The strange thing was, at first glance the world didn’t seem all that different. When Donovan looked out his bedroom window in the mornings, he still saw the sun rising in the east behind the spires of the Towers, which stood as firm and solid as ever. Ships still appeared in the sky over the landing fields, skimmercars sped along the roads, people walked down the streets and went about their daily lives. Yet an unbelievable new reality was rapidly unfolding.

  Administrator Seir and the zhree zun had communicated the Homeworld Council’s decision within each of their erze. People had friends and family outside the Round, so rumors had begun to fly even before the Prime Liaison was informed and the human government and the media became involved. By now the entire world had learned that the seemingly impossible was happening: The Mur Erzen Commonwealth would be withdrawing support from Earth, and the zhree colonists had been ordered to begin evacuation preparations.

  To Donovan, the only real evidence that this wasn’t all a giant hallucination could be found in the streets of the Ring Belt. Earlier that day, he and Jet had responded to reports of a Sapience-related disturbance and found two straw-stuffed zhree effigies burning in a parking lot, along with a nude mannequin with exocel nodes and Soldier’s stripes drawn onto it with black permanent marker. A dozen or so people were cavorting in the street, hollering. When they caught sight of the SecPac skimmercar, they threw bottles and bricks and fled. Jet dealt with the fire while Donovan caught the slowest perpetrator and handcuffed him.

  “Once the shrooms are gone for good, we’re going to deal with you pets and traitors,” the man shouted, twisting on the asphalt. “Earth for proper humans again!”

  Judging by the worried chatter in the briefing hall, that incident had hardly been the only one. Commander Tate came into the room and took the podium. She did not look as if she’d been sleeping well. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I’m not going to be able to answer all of them. But here’s what you need to remember: We’re stripes. It’s our job to project calm out there. If you’re approached by the media or civilians, the one line you should be repeating is that nothing’s changing right now. The drawdown schedule is still being developed and it’s going to be gradual. We’re looking at a five- to ten-year transition plan. Take a page out of DeGarmo’s playbook and stick to the same message that the Liaison Office has been delivering over and over again. No public speculation. Clear?”

  Donovan had seen the new Prime Liaison on the news fielding anxious questions, her reassuring manner strained to the utmost. “The government of West America, along with other nations around the world, will work closely with the representatives of the Mur Commonwealth to ensure a gradual and orderly transition process.” Donovan felt sorry for DeGarmo; she’d barely taken office as Prime Liaison and this was what happened in the first month? Even Donovan’s father had never had to deal with a crisis of such magnitude.

  “Commander,” Sebastian called out from the third row. “What about the Rii? Will they attack Earth once the Mur colonists leave?”

  Murmurs rose from the assembled officers. The nomadic Rii were enemies of the Mur Commonwealth, and Earth was in a strategic location on the frontier of Commonwealth space. Last year, the appearance of Rii scouting ships in the solar system had prompted fears of possible invasion. Tate scowled at the question. “Do I look like a fortune-teller to you? A Rii attack could happen in a year, or a hundred years, or never. We don’t know what planetary defense is going to look like without Soldiers—obviously, that’s going to have to be a big part of the transition
plan that will be jointly developed by the zhree zun and human governments. Until we hear further information, we have more immediate problems to deal with.”

  The commander shoved her glasses onto the bridge of her nose and consulted her screen. “Sapience activity is up. By a lot. We’re seeing major breakouts near Rounds Four, Seven, Eight, Thirteen, and Fifteen, and additional reports coming in from cities all over the country and the world.”

  “The sapes are going to get what they wanted, aren’t they? The zhree gone, squishies in charge,” Tennyson said angrily. “What do they have to fight for anymore?”

  Commander Tate looked up from the podium. “Some of them think they’ve won and they’re celebrating the way sapes do, with high-grade explosives and plenty of ammunition. The more strategic ones know that this is just the beginning, and they see the opportunity to finally topple the government and set themselves up to call the shots. And on top of that, you’ve got some latecomers rushing to join up with Sapience; they figure that once the zhree leave, they’d better be cozy with the people who have the survival skills and the guns.”

  People like Kevin. Where was Anya in all this? With a stab of worry, Donovan imagined her out there somewhere amid the dangerous restiveness. Was she celebrating too? Was she joining in the surge of violence, or trying to steer clear of it?

  “The Prime Liaison has declared that transition talks with the zhree colonists will begin as soon as possible,” Tate told them. “The Round is the only place deemed secure enough to hold those discussions. There are going to be a lot of political leaders in here over the next several weeks, including the President of West America and members of Congress. Which means increased security at all the gates and rotating protection details. Patrol schedules are going to change; you’ll get specifics in the next day or two. SecPac’s primary objectives right now are to quell the surge of Sapience uprisings and ensure the complete security of the transition talks.”