First Strike (21 page)

“Warf is prepared to offer an alternate bargain,” Warf said. “Warf’s people will move reinforcements to the border between Warf’s people and the Hegemony. In exchange, Warf’s people will require an undertaking to ship both technical data and samples of Earth’s weaponry to Warf’s people if Earth falls to the Hegemony. Warf’s people will also offer human refugees a place to settle, ensuring that your race will not be exterminated when the Hegemony ranges in on your homeworld.”

“If,” Shan said, quietly. “We do not intend to lose.”

She tossed the idea over and over in her head. On one hand, the Hegemony would have to worry that the Tarn planned to jump them and keep forces deployed along at least one other border. That would limit the forces they could redeploy to meet the human offensive. On the other hand, the Hegemony might decide to call the Tarn’s bluff and pull ships away from the border anyway, trading space for time. They’d certainly realise that if Earth’s weapons got into the hands of their enemies, the Hegemony was doomed. Whatever it took to prevent that was worth the cost.

And yet… there was another possibility. What if the Tarn attacked the Hegemony and then demanded Earth’s weapons? Earth would be in a difficult position; they’d need the Tarn, and yet sharing Earth’s weapons would be the quickest way to ensure that they’d be duplicated. And it was possible that some of the Tarn were working for the Hegemony. There were certainly Funks working for Earth.

“There are other possibilities,” Warf added. “Warf’s people have a considerable number of older starships produced by the Association that are unsuitable for their use. Warf’s people would offer them to Earth, should you accept our bargain. There are also weapons and supplies that we could give you, along with intelligence from recon flights along the borders. You would not lose out if you bargained with Warf’s people.”

“I would have to check with Earth, but I believe that they would definitely accept the second offer,” Shan said. It was a shame that the Tarn weren't one of the races that specialised in offering loans to developing planets, but maybe they had influence Shan could borrow. Earth needed loans to finance the war effort. A single defeat could pull the purse strings tight. “I would certainly recommend to the Federation Council that your bargain be accepted.”

“Warf is gratified to hear it,” Warf informed her. “Perhaps you could inform Warf of their decision soonest? Warf has much to do and so little time.”

“I will contact you as soon as we have a definite answer,” Shan said. She had a lot to pass on to the Federation Council, starting with the fact they’d effectively gotten away with attacking the Hegemony ships at Heavenly Gate. “I thank you for your time.”

“Warf is unworthy of your thanks,” Warf said. “Warf is honoured to offer you the comfort of Warf’s humble home.”

Shan exchanged bows and walked out of the chamber, heading down towards the walkways that led back to the Embassies. It wouldn't take long to walk back to Earth’s Embassy, where she could have a drink and contact Earth. Despite the stimulants she’d taken, she still felt tired. Some of the Galactics somehow managed to spend
 
weeks
 
in the Commune when the more significant proposals were debated. She had no idea how they managed it.

A handful of reporters were waiting outside, holding up scanners to record her image. She managed a confident smile as she passed them and met up with her bodyguards. It was important to stay on the right side of the press. God knew that they would help shape Galactic opinion.

And who knew? Perhaps humanity’s plucky little underdog performance would win it friends and allies. And maybe the horse would learn to sing.

“The entire city is supposed to be in lockdown,” Barbie said, “but we just don’t have the manpower to even begin to police it.”

Adrienne barely heard her. The alien city was strange to her eyes, yet there was something about it that was almost appealing. The Funks might have refused to change their building style since they’d been introduced to space by the Hegemony, if only because they had been determined to remember their past, but they’d had to co-exist with a number of other races on Garston. Their city was a strange blend of styles and proportions, large enough for humanity and almost every other humanoid race. The market street was a melting pot of cultures from all over the galaxy.

Most of the civilians were in their homes, keeping off the streets, but Adrienne had heard reports that a great many scores were being paid off by races that had had to live under the Funks. The alien ghettos had become hostile territory for the Funks, while raiding parties had set out to burn Funk neighbourhoods when the human occupiers weren't looking. There were even rumours that the Funks planned an insurgency, knowing that they had little other choice, but to fight. Even if humanity didn't intend to extract revenge for how they’d treated Terra Nova, their neighbours wanted to ensure that the Funks could never grind them down again.

Armed and armored Marines patrolled the streets in groups of five, watching for trouble and trying to dampen it down when it broke out. According to one of the Marines she’d taken care to cultivate as a source, the humans were caught in the middle – and under attack from all sides. The detention camps outside the city, established for the Funk leadership, had had to be expanded rapidly to hold rioters and insurgents...and were already reaching capacity. No one really grasped how large a planet was until they had to provide ground troops to keep it under control – and there were only seven thousand Marines with the fleet. It was barely enough to keep Garston City under limited control; the remainder of the planet had to fend for itself, once the Marines had secured the planetary defence centers. Some of the reports from outside the city were horrifying.

She looked over at a small group of aliens and smiled inwardly. They were very far from human, but she fancied that she would have recognised them as reporters, if only because of the questions they kept throwing at their human minders. Some of them were clearly hostile to the human race, others seemed more inclined to be friendly – or simply didn't like the Hegemony. Adrienne chafed under the restrictions imposed by the military on what she could and could not report, but at least she had some access. The Galactic reporters received almost none, which didn't stop them sending stories back home that bore only a vague resemblance to the facts. One reporter had filed a story claiming that humanity had over a thousand invincible superdreadnoughts in orbit. Another had seen the plans for the Death Star and reported it as if humanity had actually built it. Adrienne was fairly sure that most of the Galactics wouldn't believe the more exaggerated reports, but rumour seemed to spread rapidly across the Association. The Funks would have some trouble sorting out truth from human disinformation – or stories the reporters had made up out of whole cloth.

The reporters were doing interviews with a handful of community leaders who had emerged out of the shadows to plead their case to the galaxy. Some of them had been appointed by the Funks, others had formed a shadow government, hoping they’d have a chance to declare independence and make their own bids for galactic power. Most of them were expressing their gratitude to the human race, although some of them were complaining that humanity wasn't sharing any of the tolls from Garston’s quantum gate. Adrienne suspected that that issue would be sorted out after the war; for the moment, the tolls gave humanity a nifty additional source of currency. There was no way that Earth would let go of Garston until the end of the war.

Others were worried about the consequences of human starships leaving Garston behind, unoccupied. The Hegemony hadn't been beaten; all things considered, it had barely been scratched. They might come back and reoccupy the planet, or the Funks on the ground might launch their own pogrom against everyone else. Some of them were appealing to their own races to send peacekeeping forces to Garston, even though others were nervous about inviting other powers to intervene. Their ancestors had left their homeworlds to escape their governments centuries ago. It was strange to realise that Garston had been settled longer than the human race had known how to work metal for tools. Garston was effectively a world with its own culture, even under the Funks. Humanity’s occupation wouldn't change that in a hurry.

“We had to put guards on the Funk neighbourhoods,” Barbie said, quietly. “The others wanted a little payback for decades of mistreatment. It feels strange to help Funks, but we can't afford a massacre – or a civil war in our rear.”

Adrienne smiled, although there was little humour in the expression. The Marines had expressed their own doubts about the mission, pointing out that the Funks had been humanity’s tormentors for the last ten years and attempting to save them from the consequences of their own misbehaviour went against the grain. God knew that not all of the Funks were disarmed, or grateful for humanity’s protection. The Marines patrolling the Funk neighbourhoods were exposed to fire from both sides.

The first national contingents had already arrived at Terra Nova, freeing up a couple of thousand Marines to rejoin the fleet, but it would be weeks – if not months – before national contingents could arrive on Garston, assuming they were even sent. Ward, her editor back home, had mentioned that resistance against sending any troops outside the Nine Stars was growing stronger. Politicians were hearing from their constituents, who were adamantly opposed to sending soldiers to keep the Funks on Garston from being slaughtered. Even if they did…

She ran through a brief calculation in her head. Ever since First Contact, when humanity had realised that there
 
were
 
hostile races out there, most Americans had bought guns and had some form of paramilitary training. A handful of promising political careers had been destroyed when some politicians hadn't realised that trying to deny citizens firearms when there was a very real threat of invasion was a sure way to lose votes. And yet… even assuming that every single American was a trained soldier, which they weren’t, there wouldn't be enough manpower to hold down an entire planet. She doubted that the other powers could provide enough men to make up the difference.

And if it’s bad here
, she asked herself,
 
what happens when we take a world occupied solely by Funks
?

Once the briefing was over – the Galactic reporters had insisted on asking all kinds of questions, ranging from the sensible to the near-insane – the reporters were taken on a brief tour of the city. The cityscape seemed to vary wildly from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, even if most of the buildings followed the Funk sense of aesthetics. One building was identified as a Temple of Ra, belonging to a cult that had managed to win a multiracial congregation. Maybe it wasn't surprising that the temple was located in the most peaceful part of the city, even during the occupation. Some humans had also converted to the Temple of Ra, while others had set out to convert the alien infidels to human religions. They hadn't had great success. The Galactics were unlikely to be seriously interested in upstart humanity’s native religions.

There were more people on the streets, despite the lockdown. The sight reminded her of Jeddah in the early years of the multinational occupation, with different tribes and religious factions keeping their distance from one another while pouring scorn and hatred on the occupation force that was trying to keep them from killing each other. Religious genocide wasn't unique to humanity, but that hadn't stopped some of the Galactics from accusing humanity of being a dangerously savage child-race. Some of the Hegemony’s counter-propaganda asserted that humanity intended to exterminate all of the Galactics once they were in a position of power. The thought of one world setting out to destroy the entire galaxy was laughable, but the Battle of Terra Nova, where five superdreadnoughts had been taken down by lighter ships at minimal loss, had concentrated a few minds.

Most of the aliens were humanoid, surprisingly close to humanity. One of her sources had suggested that Garston City was renowned for interracial sex, even though the Funks reacted harshly against the very concept. While cross-species fertilisation was impossible, all kinds of options opened up for the broadminded. Other aliens were so alien that it was hard to believe that they had anything in common with humanity. She caught sight of a floating orb, studded with eyestalks, and shook her head in disbelief. Beauty was quite definitely in the eyes of the beholder.

The reporters insisted on stopping often to interview more people, but many simply refused to talk and hurried onwards. One friendly alien was happy to lecture the reporters on why they should convert to the one true faith, yet despite some of the reporters listening patiently he refused to be drawn on current affairs. Adrienne rolled her eyes as the Galactics stalked off in frustration. How could anyone claim to have the one true faith when Earth alone had produced hundreds of different religions? The Cats had never developed a religion of their own – some of them regarded that as a sign they were superior to the younger races, who needed the comfort of belief in something greater than themselves – but they’d cataloged literally millions of religions as they’d shaped interstellar society. Some human researchers claimed that religions that shared similar messages actually worshipped the same god, if known by different names, and that comparing the different messages would allow them to build a picture of their true faith. So far, as far as Adrienne knew, their research had been inconclusive. Some religions were incomprehensible to human minds. Others had more in common with polytheistic religions than the monotheistic religions that dominated Earth.

They reached one of the Funk neighbourhoods and street activity dropped away to almost nothing. The handful of Funks in the street slipped away from the reporters, hiding in the shadows before they could be seen and interviewed. Adrienne was aware of unblinking red eyes watching them from windows, even though when she looked around she could see nothing. A patrol of Marines were walking down the middle of the street, looking hugely intimidating in their combat armor. Their suits had been set to display images, rather than automatically camouflaging themselves to match the local environment. One Marine looked alarmingly like a creature from Greek mythology. Others looked as if they were tribal warriors marching out to war.

“Most of them are hiding,” Barbie whispered. Even she seemed subdued by their surroundings. “They don’t think that we will protect them if the entire city rises up and comes baying for their blood. I’m not even sure that we have the manpower to protect them if the shit hits the fan.”

Adrienne shivered. Humanity had gotten some good press from saving the Funks from being lynched, but the Hegemony had been spreading stories of human-organised massacres and outright terror strikes mounted against helpless civilians. There was little truth in the stories – and few of them were placed in context – yet some of the Galactics believed them, either because they trusted the Hegemony or because they disliked the upstart humans. A race rebelling against the division of their space by the Commune set an unfortunate precedent for the Galactics. Some of them were likely to hope that the Hegemony won rapidly, cheaply and totally.

The latter, at least, wasn't going to happen. Adrienne had heard rumours that covert operations teams were already preparing humanity’s revenge if Earth should happen to be destroyed. Taking a well-defended planet wasn’t easy, but destroying one was simplicity itself. The Galactics would be horrified if humanity destroyed a life-bearing world, yet if humanity lost the war it was likely that the human race would be beyond caring.

The damage caused by the fighting drew the attention of the reporters, who bombarded their minders with questions. One large city block had been destroyed by a KEW after the Funks had turned it into a firing position to launch HVMs at the oncoming shuttle, killing the missile crews and a number of civilians. Some of the Funks had promptly claimed that over a thousand civilians had been killed in the attack, although few of the reporters believed their statements. Even the dumbest reporter could look at the damage and wonder how a thousand people could have fit into the city block. The bodies had been removed and buried by the Marines, once they’d filmed and cataloged the entire site for future inspection. No one had attempted to claim the bodies for proper treatment, in line with the Funk customs.

Other buildings had been attacked by angry mobs, some of them composed of lesser Funks angry at their superiors. The Funks seemed to jump on any sign of weakness, perhaps driven by their belief that only the toughest deserved to lead. Their Empress, if some of the reports were accurate, had little compunction about ordering mass punishment if she felt that her position was threatened. The Funks did seem to lack the sadism that had infected many human despots, but the ruthlessness of their leaders would have made Stalin blanch. But it was the only way to keep in power.

“And so the tour goes on,” Barbie muttered. “Do you still want to visit another city?”

Ward had insisted that she did, but Adrienne wasn't so sure. Many of the other cities were dangerous, perhaps more dangerous than human cities in the middle of a war zone. Some of the Galactic reporters were trusting in their media credentials to protect them, others – more careful – were demanding Marine escorts as they roamed the streets. So far, the Marines were stalling. They didn't want to expose Marines to insurgent attack and yet they knew that they had to keep on the right side of the Galactic media. If there was a right side...