A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (30 page)

“The humans attacked Hades,” she said, flatly.  “How do you propose we respond?”

The Varnar looked up at her with big dark eyes.  “As soon as your battleships arrive, launch an immediate attack on Earth,” he said.  “There is little else worth targeting in human space.”

Neola blinked in surprise.  “They only have one system?”

“There are few empty systems within fifty light years of their star,” He’cht reminded her.  “They do not have room to expand, Your Excellency.  There are a number of small human settlements on many worlds, but always as minority groups.  Earth is their sole majority world.”

“And Earth will no longer exist soon,” Neola said.  “How do you propose we attack?”

“Train your people to think and react to surprises,” He’cht said, “then go for their homeworld with your entire fleet.  You will have to expect a hard fight, I think.  The humans will not falter in defence of their world.”

“I imagine not,” Neola agreed.  “And Hades itself?”

“Is immaterial,” the Varnar said.  “Your plan assumed you had all the time in the universe to put your pieces in place.  That is no longer valid.  You have to react to the new situation.  Expect the humans to go for your other bases if you give them the time ...”

Neola grimaced.  The last major interstellar war, four thousand years ago, had been resolved by patiently barricading the enemy into a handful of heavily-fortified star systems, then battering them down one by one.  Putting naval bases in the right locations had been an integral part of the victorious strategy.  But things had been different back then; FTL had been a relatively new concept, while the Tokomak hadn't been anything like as ossified.

“They’ll attack other bases,” she said, slowly.  “Each attack will embarrass us still further.”

“And convince the Coalition that they can hurt you too,” the Varnar added.  “You might find yourself waging war against them before you’re ready.”

“Then the plan will be revised, as you suggest,” Neola said.  “Once the battleships arrive, we will take them straight to Earth.”

She paused.  “You will be assigned to my personal staff,” she added.  “You will have full permission to speak your mind, when we are alone.  I will require your opinion on all matters.”

The Varnar was hard to read, but she had the feeling he was less than pleased.  He was an important person on Varnar, one of their senior commanders; to the Tokomak, he was nothing more than a lesser personage.  His opinions would be discounted, at best, if he made them in public; at worst, he would be considered an uppity inferior and ordered to report for execution.  There was a reason most of her body-servants came from races that practically worshipped the Tokomak as gods.

“Your wish is my command, Your Excellency,” He’cht said, finally.

“Of course it is,” Neola said.  “Report to my Steward.  He will assign you quarters and a staff.  Bring others, if you wish.  They can all be accommodated.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” He’cht said.  “I will serve you faithfully.”

***

The Tokomak were simply not very good at understanding emotions, certainly not those belonging to other races.  It was hard for the Viceroy to comprehend, He’cht suspected, just how much humiliation she had poured on him – and how much was yet to come.  He’d entered the room a proud Admiral, a serving officer in the Varnar Navy; he’d left it a servant, an advisor to someone who would happily take the credit for his victories.  And would she even listen to his advice?

He showed no trace of his feelings as he made his way back to the Naval HQ, thinking hard.  The Tokomak had been beaten; worse, they’d been beaten publicly.  They weren't likely to take it too calmly, which was bad news for the human race.  Once, He’cht would have been pleased; now, he had a feeling that the Varnar would simply be the last race to be crushed into eternal servitude. 

And yet they’d been beaten! 

The humans hadn't been spacefarers when the Varnar had first visited their world, taking biological samples and breeding stock for cyborgs.  They certainly shouldn't have been able to develop FTL on their own.  And that suggested someone had given them the technology and invited them to play with it.  The Coalition?  Or someone else?

But it hardly mattered.  If an upstart race could do so much, against the masters of the universe, what could the Varnar do? They had ships, they had weapons ... and they had experience.  Could they fight the Tokomak and win?

It was a treacherous thought.  It was a dangerous thought.  But it taunted him as he entered the building.  They’d always known the proxy war would go on until everyone was exhausted, at least until the humans entered the war.  Now ... there was a prospect of something else, a chance to unite against the true foe.  But it would be risky ...

We will need to plan carefully
, he thought.  The Tokomak battleships would arrive soon, in staggering numbers.  Thankfully, the Tokomak hadn’t demanded the Varnar Navy provide support to their fleet. 
And then we will need to decide which way to jump
.

Chapter Thirty

In the wake of yet another child-abuse scandal, angry crowds stormed the Vatican in Rome and lynched an as yet undisclosed number of priests and religious figures.  A number of Swiss Guards are reported dead in the attack, but Italian police and military units refused to get involved.  The Italian Government has declared a state of emergency, yet it is unlikely that anyone will be prosecuted for the attack.

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“The entire planet knows,” Sally said, as they sat together in her apartment.  “It won’t be long before the entire sector knows.”

Kevin looked down at the bootleg recording.  Starships – human starships – had attacked Hades, smashing the defenders without taking any losses of their own.  It was the single most one-sided victory the galaxy had seen for over three thousand years.  And it had happened to the Tokomak, the masters of the universe.  It couldn't have been more shocking if a small army of cavemen had killed a hundred heavily-armed Solar Marines.

“It’s good,” he said.  “Everyone knows?”

“The recording leaked onto the datanet,” Sally said.  “They keep taking it down and it keeps popping back up, somehow.”

“The age-old problem with information datanets,” Kevin said.  “How do you censor without the system regarding it as a malfunction and routing around you?”

He smirked.  The Varnar Datanet wasn't
that
different from the human system; there were vast sections that could be deemed to be under supervision, but entire segments that were rogue, completely out of any form of control.  It wasn't easy tending to the needs of an entire planet, even if the Varnar were more homogenous than humans.  And besides, a large percentage of the planet’s population were non-Varnar.

“There are copies everywhere by now,” Sally said.  “I would hazard a guess that over a third of the planet has seen the raw recordings.”

“Good,” Kevin said.  “And how are the Tokomak planning to respond?”

“They’ve said nothing, yet,” Sally said.  “It's only been a couple of days since the news arrived.  They may still be thinking about their response.”

Kevin frowned.  The Tokomak, according to the captured ship’s files, had only one response to any challenge to their power.  They sent a fleet of starships to deal with the challenge swiftly, brutally and effectively.  He’d assumed – and Mongo had done the same – that the Tokomak would try to recover Hades at once, sending a fleet of cruisers to the occupied world.  It was their most likely course of action. 

But they hadn't bothered to react, as far as he could tell.  That worried him.

“It’s possible,” he said.  “But they shouldn't have had to
think
!”

“They must have been shocked by the battle,” Sally pointed out, dryly.  “Even the most ossified system would rethink its priorities after such a nasty shock.”

“I suppose,” Kevin said, doubtfully.

He stood up and started to pace, thinking hard.  On the face of it, the Varnar hadn't even lost a percentage point of their fleet.  There was no reason to think the Battle of Hades altered the balance of power.  But ... their reputation for invincibility was their greatest asset.  Losing it had to sting ... and, more importantly, would encourage anyone else who hated them to go for their throats.  By now, word would be spreading through space, heading towards their empire and countless subject races.  How many of them would rebel when they heard the Tokomak were not invincible after all?

“Mr. Ando had a message for you,” Sally said.  “There are some people he would like you to meet.”

Kevin turned to face her.  “Who?”

“He wouldn’t say,” Sally said.  “But he assured me that you would find it in your best interests to attend.”

“I see,” Kevin said.  He considered it, rapidly.  Who would Mr. Ando want him to meet?  An ally?  Or someone who might be talked into becoming an ally?  “Very well.  Where do we have to go?”

“It’s at 1700, if you want to attend,” Sally said.  “He advised you to wear a disguise.  I brought a couple along, if you are interested.”

She hadn't answered the real question, Kevin noted.  He wondered if she was deliberately keeping something from him – or if she didn't actually know.  Mr. Ando might well have decided to tell her nearer the time, to prevent an accidental betrayal.  Or maybe she hadn't quite understood what he’d asked her, which seemed unlikely.  Sally was one of the sharpest people he’d had to deal with, outside the SIA.

It seemed pointless to ask more questions, so he allowed her to lead him into the bedroom and show him the disguises.  They were nothing more than masks and monkish cloaks, but he understood the moment he saw them.  One of the most prominent galactic religions insisted that all of its adherents wore the same outfits, in the hopes of minimising all differences between them.  They believed, Kevin recalled, that all intelligence was sacred and differences between the races only made it harder for everyone to get along.  The Solar Union would probably have agreed with them, if it had had the chance.  It was astonishing how irrelevant racism became when someone could change their skin colour to green or purple at will.

“Follow close behind me,” Sally ordered, once they were dressed.  “And don’t take off your mask without permission.”

Kevin had – once – worn a
burka
when he’d walked through Mecca, on one of his more covert missions in the Middle East.  It had been exciting, in many ways; Mecca was denied to unbelievers, so discovery would probably have meant certain death.  The thought had amused him at the time – he would not have called the House of Saud
believers
- but now it was just stupid.  All his work had been wasted, thanks to bureaucrats in Washington.

Sally led him unhesitatingly down into the lower regions of the city, where the poor and powerless congregated and begged for alms.  Kevin looked from side to side, feeling growing pity for the inhabitants, even as he kept his distance from anyone who looked dangerous.  A few of them called out to him, offering everything from sex to drugs, but the remainder generally ignored him.  Below them, a handful of dead bodies lay on the ground, waiting for someone to come and turn them into food.  Taboos against cannibalism – not shared by all of the Galactics – would not be enough to stop the poor from tearing into dead flesh.  It might make the difference between life and death.

Sickened, Kevin forced himself to keep his eyes firmly on Sally’s behind as she walked faster and faster.  He’d seen poverty on Earth, poverty that had been unimaginable in America, but this was an order of magnitude worse.  Part of him had always believed that advanced aliens would have solved all their social woes, but the Tokomak hadn't even
tried
.  There had been no attempt to help the poor, even with free food and drink.  He understood the dangers of government charity – Steve hadn't had to convince him of
that
– and yet surely
someone
should try to help.

But there are limits
, he thought. 
We can’t create a post-scarcity society just yet
.

Sally stopped outside an unmarked door and tapped once, loudly.  It opened a moment later, revealing a spider-like alien who glowered at the pair of them through eyes on stalks.  Kevin forced down his instinctive reaction – the spider seemed to trigger every last one of his long-buried phobias – and followed Sally as she stepped past the creature and into a small sitting room.  Most of the furniture looked child-sized; the only exceptions were a pair of chairs, which looked to have been produced for someone much larger than the average human.  But the child-sized furniture was more than enough to tell him who – or rather what – they were going to meet.

“Take off your mask,” Sally ordered.  “They’ll want to see you.”

Kevin nodded and obeyed, then grimaced in disgust.  The air smelled of rotting spice, a stench that made him want to cough.  Somehow, he managed to keep his reaction under control, using his implants to dampen his sense of smell.  Moments later, as he sat down, the door opened, revealing four Varnar.  They all wore the same grey overalls, leaving him completely unable to tell them apart.  Thankfully, they had much the same trouble with humans.

“We greet you,” the lead Varnar said.  Kevin mentally tagged him Number One.  “You are speaking for your race?”

“I am empowered to discuss certain matters, yes,” Kevin said.  The Varnar had always given him the creeps, if only because they bore a certain resemblance to Little Grey Aliens.  There were quite a few people who suspected that wasn't a coincidence.  “And yourselves?”

“We are empowered to speak on behalf of the Varnar Hive,” Number One said.  “But they do not speak for us.”

Kevin sighed, inwardly.  What the hell did that mean?  He’d thought talking with Arabs, Chinese or Japanese could be hard but aliens were ... well, alien.  And the Varnar, despite being humanoid, thought very differently to humans.  They did things that made no sense to any human and, when asked, claimed it was perfectly normal.  And perhaps it was, for them. 

“You requested this meeting,” Kevin said.  “I assume you wish to discuss the war.”

“That is correct,” Number Two said.  “The war has taken a turn we find disadvantageous.”

“Yes,” Kevin agreed.  “If we win, you will have to come to terms with us; if we lose, the Tokomak will seek to control you more thoroughly than they already do.  You can only come out ahead if you talk to us.”

“Which bears the risk of being destroyed by the Tokomak,” Number Three stated.  “Can your race win the war?”

“We believe we can,” Kevin said, flatly.  “I won’t go into details.”

It had crossed his mind that the meeting could be a trap.  Mr. Ando could have been paid through the nose to arrange it, or he might be an innocent dupe.  Kevin knew, without false modesty, that he probably wouldn't have been able to escape a trap ... and Julian and the others had strict orders not to try to save his life.  He would have no option, but immediate suicide.  They couldn't take the risk of him being interrogated and forced to spill everything he knew.

“That is understandable,” Number Four said. 

Kevin smiled to himself.  Did they have to speak in sequence?  Or were they playing games with his mind?

“I would urge you to join us,” Kevin said.  “However, you would not want to take the risk of switching sides before the Tokomak are defeated.”

All four Varnar lowered their heads slowly.  “That is correct,” Number One said.  “We do not want to face the Tokomak alone.”

“I understand,” Kevin said.  “I have seen such reluctance before.”

It had been a common problem, during the War on Terror.  Villages and tribes often hated the terrorists and insurgents more than they hated the Americans, but they were too scared of the terrorists to take a stand against them.  The foreigners would be gone one day, the terrorists taunted, and on that day anyone who helped them would face punishment.  It was hard to blame the locals for refusing to get involved when their sons would be killed and their daughters and wives would be raped, merely for exchanging a few polite words with the foreigners.

He gritted his teeth in bitter memory.  It would have been easier – so much easier – if the intelligence agents had had authority to issue immigration permits at will, but the bureaucrats had put roadblock after roadblock in their path.  Not that it mattered here, he knew; there was no way they could offer asylum to every single Varnar on the planet.  There were billions of the aliens, all at risk if the Tokomak knew they were being betrayed.

“Then we wish to discuss potential future collaboration,” Number Two said.

“And how the Coalition would treat us,” Number Three added.

“I could not make promises on the Coalition’s behalf,” Kevin said, carefully.  “However, I believe they would certainly
want
to end the Proxy War.”

“Such an ending would have to be on reasonable terms,” Number Four stated.  “We do not wish to surrender.”

“There is no need for outright surrender,” Number One said.