Other teams played just the opposite. Instead of being tentative or cautious, they used a dash attack. They gave up all forms of defense and went straight for the opposing team's flag. Stopping at the forty-meter mark gave Eli and his team time to seek cover and set up defensive positions. If a team used a dash attack, the initial trio could pick off the opposing team as they tried to speed past. The few that made it past the advance line ran into Eli, Suze, and Edward sitting ten meters behind. Stragglers were quickly given chase by the entire team and easily eliminated. Since they had been playing, those matches where opposing teams implemented a dash attack went the quickest.

The matches that lasted the longest and were the most difficult to win were those in which their opponents used an even mix of aggression and caution. So, that's the approach that Eli's team used.

After setting up their initial line at the forty-mark point, the team waited. Eli had instructed his team to be ready for the dash attack. Jonah's comments earlier in the day hinted that the older crew might be overly confident. In fact, Eli hoped they were. He wanted to end this as quickly as possible. If the older crew was going to make a dash for the purple flag, they would know within the next thirty seconds-the length of time it took most teams to cover twenty meters of course.

Eli had silently counted to the twelve-second mark when the first red player flashed past Adrienne. The blader was moving so quickly that none of the three in the advance line got a shot off.

Although the red player moved fast, Eli did not hesitate. He added a splash of bright purple to the player's back as he sped past. He noticed, with some satisfaction, that the player he painted was Jonah.

A slight dinging tone from an overhead speaker announced to all that one of the players from the older team had just been eliminated from the match. A different, buzzing note would indicate an elimination from Eli's team.

The initial "ding" was quickly followed by five more as Adrienne and the advance line took out the following bladers. After that, it was a simple matter to hunt down the remaining red player and capture the opposing flag.

When the final bell signaled the end of the match, Eli was somewhat disappointed. He had hoped for a better contest against the older team. Instead, it was the easiest match they had played in weeks. He knew that future matches against older teams would not be so easy. They would not take the purple team lightly again.

But for now, their winning streak was still alive.

"Your young one has a good squad," Treel stated.

The observation room had been set up so the controllers could monitor and run the contests with minimal interference. The vid screens had displayed the actions of both teams from the time they entered their side of the area until the final bell.

"They got lucky that time," Avery replied. "And they are called a 'team,' not a squad."

She was making notes on the performance of each partic.i.p.ant. At the end of the week, she would meet with each captain and go over their team and individual performances. The captains would then relay the feedback to their respective team members. The idea was to foster leadership and encourage performance improvements among the orphans.

"You humans and your games. This is just a form of war."

Avery was uncomfortable with the knowledge that he might be right, so she ignored the comment. Instead, she focused on the single most important issue she had noticed with the older team.

"The red team was overconfident. They thought they could surprise the younger team."

"Didn't they know Eli's team would set up a defense against that type of attack?"

"Probably not. The two age groups have never met, and that type of attack still works quite well for Jonah and his team when they compete in their own age group. For some reason, the older groups have not figured out how to defend against it."

"But Eli has? Interesting."

"Not just Eli's team," she explained. "All the younger teams can defeat a rush attack now. Once they saw the defense work so well, the other captains asked Eli's team to teach them."

"And he did? Why would he share that knowledge with his enemies?"

Avery shook her head. She had given up trying to explain that Eli was just one member of his team. Or that Adrienne was the team's captain. As far as Treel was concerned, Eli was running the show for the purple team. "They are not his enemies, Treel. They are his friends."

"They meet on a field of battle. Their goals are to outmaneuver, fire upon, and declare victory over the other squad. They are enemies."

Avery sighed. It was useless to debate the issue or explain the nuances of human interactions with the Minith soldier. He was programmed for aggression. For him, any game or activity that resulted in a winner and a loser-regardless of the reason for activity or the partic.i.p.ants involved-was akin to a battle.

CHAPTER 16.

All of Treel's furniture and possessions had been pushed to the center to allow the maximum path upon which to tread. It was a habit of his people. When anxious or nervous, a crisp, measured pacing helped soothe one's consciousness and clear the mind. Many great Minith leaders credited their most important accomplishments and achievements to a well-timed pace about their environs.

Treel had never been one for pacing on a regular basis, but when he did give into the need, it was his normal habit to count laps. A brisk stride, along with the routine of the count, helped center and calm his being. Unfortunately, the confused blur of emotions and thoughts that fueled his steps now was so great, his tendency for tracking laps had given way to the primal need to just move. The last count he remembered was well over a thousand and that had been hours before. No matter how many laps he made around the room, he was still reeling at the news.

Motherships are approaching.

Multiple motherships.

Although he could not fathom the naivete that would allow these humans to provide him with that information, he was glad to possess it. It meant he could prepare for opportunities and consider the potential scenarios that might arise.

He could plan his escape.

There was no doubt that he would side with his race if they were approaching Earth for the purpose of war. Ceding superiority to a conqueror only lasted until the start of the next conflict. Once the fight was rejoined by his side, his allegiance was reestablished, and superiority of the combatants was once again at stake. If the Minith were coming to battle, he would lend his fists and his skills to their success. Their success was the only way for him to get back to Waa.

And while he had come to respect-perhaps even like-these humans, more than anything else, he wanted to go home. He wanted to get back to his wife and sons.

He had never wanted anything so badly.

Mouse dropped to his seat and kicked his feet out. It felt good to be sitting for a change. The preparations for the Minith arrival, both civilian and military, had been going non-stop for the past two weeks. Over that course of time, he averaged less than four hours of sleep a night. The demands of commanding Earth's armies seemed never-ending. No matter how much he delegated, the details that required his attention only grew and grew. With the Minith vessels less than a week out, that trend became exponential.

Tane and Randalyn shared his fatigue and seemed content to sit quietly at the other side of the table, if only for a few moments. Each of them had been putting in just as much time as he was in getting their home planet ready for what they were to face. If anything, they got less rest than he did. Blue, on the other hand, had different ideas.

"Are we just going to sit here, or are we going to begin?"

Mouse was tempted to bark at the administrator, but swallowed his reply for two reasons. First, there was no reason to express violence against the other man. Blue was correct; they did not have time to waste. Second, the administrator had to be just as tired as the rest of the small group. He had not slacked off in his duties over the past two weeks. Instead, he had worked tirelessly, preparing for the upcoming relocation of the civilian workers and families out of the former prison.

Mouse sighed, sat up straight, and caught the hint of a smile Randalyn sent his way. The Culture Leader was the most astute person he had ever met when it came to understanding others' thoughts and motivations. She had no doubt recognized Mouse's desire to snap at Blue. He returned the smile and gave a wink.

"Yes, Administrator Blue. You are correct. We should begin," he said with a nod toward the man seated to his left. "How are the preparations to relocate our civilians coming along?"

"The relocation facility is nearly ready," Blue replied. As he spoke, Mouse noticed that the man had lost weight over the past two weeks. He was glad someone was receiving some positive benefit of the increased workload and stress they were all under. "We will begin moving groups out to the facility tomorrow. It will be tight, but we should have everyone relocated before the... um..."

"Before the Minith arrive?" Tane offered. They all knew that-despite the reality of their situation-Blue still had problems acknowledging that the aliens' return was imminent.

"Yes. The facility support personnel will be relocated first so they can finish the preparations and begin receiving the remainder of the support staff, military family personnel, and orphans. The civilians affected by the council's order have already begun moving toward the mine."

"Excellent," Mouse said. "How are the mining facilities working out?"

"Very well. That was an excellent suggestion, Tane. The mines are large enough to hold everyone in this facility, as well as all the civilians living within the designated area."

One of the preparations Mouse had ordered was an evacuation of the non-military personnel from Violent's Prison. He had also requested, and received, council approval to relocate every civilian within a two-hundred-kilometer radius of the prison. The problem had been finding a place for more than five hundred thousand refugees.

Tane's idea had been to use the large mining chasms that dotted the N'mercn landscape. Although they had been virtually abandoned since the Minith had been defeated, their size and manner of construction made them perfect for their objective. The one they selected was more than three kilometers wide, thirty kilometers long, and more than a kilometer deep at its lowest point. The roads that began at the rim of the man-made canyon and wound down into the earth led to hundreds of tunnels. The tunnels spider-webbed underground in all directions. While not the most comfortable lodging, it was large enough and would probably be the safest place on Earth when the Minith landed. Regardless of whether or not it was comfortable, it was all they had. And it was almost ready to begin accepting its first inhabitants.

"How are our armies doing, General Mouse?" Randalyn asked.

"Um. Fine." Mouse still had trouble getting his mind around the fact that he was now a general. That had been Grant's t.i.tle. It had been two weeks since the council had named him Earth's new general, and he still felt like an imposter. "All of our forces are equipped and ready. We don't know for sure where the Minith will land, but the obvious locations are here and near the Leadership Council facility in Urop. So, that's where the bulk of the N'mercan and Urop'n forces are stationed. I've allowed the other cultures to position their units where they feel they can be most effective. Those units are on orders to be ready to support the forces here and in Urop if needed, though."

"Is there anything you'd like for me to convey to the council?"

"Just that I'd wish you would reconsider your decision to remain in the council building. I don't see why you, and the rest of the council, insist on staying there."

"We understand the risks, General. But we have each decided that our place is there. We will not cower from the aliens any longer. I cannot speak for any of my fellow council members, but I will be armed and ready for the Minith, should they visit."

Her cool blue eyes did not leave Mouse's and he knew she would stand up to the aliens if needed. Now that he possessed a better understanding of her background, he knew she had not always been a slave to Peace as he had previously thought. She, and hundreds of thousands like her, including Tane, operated under a different set of beliefs-beliefs that were hidden away for years out of necessity. That necessity had been lifted when the council agreed to remove the laws that had required their secrecy.

"Okay, then. When do you leave?"

"As soon as we are finished here. My carrier is already prepared."

"Fine. Tane? How are things with your group?"

The scientist provided his updates with the crisp, precise eloquence Mouse had come to expect. Weapons systems had been updated where necessary, equipment and ammunition were stocked and ready for use. Tane and his scientific teams would be ready to depart for their a.s.signed area inside the mine in two days. Until then, they were at Mouse's and the council's disposal for any last-minute needs. Neither Mouse nor Randalyn could think of anything further, and the meeting adjourned.

Next for Mouse was a meeting with his unit commanders. The defensive plan was being drafted and he was anxious to see what his subordinates had come up with.

Randalyn intercepted Blue at the door as he prepared to leave. She took his left hand in both of hers and thanked the administrator warmly for all his work and his support over the years. It was apparent the large man was moved by the gesture, but seemed unsure how to respond. He muttered a simple "thank you" and made a hasty retreat.

"I know Blue can be difficult at times, but he really is a good man at heart. He is just insecure," she told Mouse and Tane.

"Well, I'm not," Mouse said. "Give me a goodbye hug. None of that hand-shaking c.r.a.p."

"Really, General. c.r.a.p? You have obviously spent too much time with General Justice."

The comment landed like a brick between the three friends. The warmth that had begun to fill the room quickly escaped. Although it had never been vocalized between them, the man they had relied on for so many years was most likely dead. The appearance of the four motherships was proof that he and his small force had failed at whatever they had matched themselves against. It pained each of them to know that they would never see Grant, t.i.tan, or any of the others on the ship again.

Mouse hugged Randalyn and tried to regain some of the warmth that had been lost. He thanked the Culture Leader and stepped back to let Tane take his turn. This might be the last time either of them saw her.

Tane embraced his friend and his leader. Mouse understood the depth of feeling the two shared. They had been partners in bringing about the changes that had taken place on Earth over the past seven years. None of the advances that humanity had realized in that short time would have been possible without their direct influence and commitment.

The scientist muttered soft words to Randalyn just before releasing her. Mouse could only hear bits and pieces, but he thought he picked out, "we don't know for sure...," and "...may be fine." Whatever he said, the words caused the Culture Leader's eyes to water. She promptly turned to leave without another look in Mouse's direction * * *

"But why do I have to go with the orphans?" Eli asked.

"Because I have to take care of some things here," his mom explained. Eli watched as she bustled about their apartment. He could tell she wasn't really listening to him. She was too busy packing clothes and inventorying items he would take with him. "And I don't want to wait until the last minute to get you evacuated."

"So, that means you're going to be here until the last minute?"

"No, that's not what it means. I evacuate a day before the last group of support staff departs," she explained. She stopped folding the shirt in her hands and sat beside him. Now she was listening. "But I'm going to be busy in the meantime and can't look after you. We will only be apart for two days, Eli. I need you to do this."

"But I've got a mom and a dad! I'm not an orphan." He had heard some of the other kids talking about the people who had left on the alien ship. Jonah had come right out and said that General Justice and the others who left were not coming back, but Eli did not believe it. The Minith could never beat his dad. His dad was too good at everything.

His mom stood up and put the now-folded shirt into the bag she was preparing. She was done listening.

"No, Eli, you are not an orphan. But you will be joining them when they get evacuated in two days."

Eli knew the "mother" voice. It would do no good to argue with her about this. She had made up her mind, even if it didn't make any sense.

"Fine," he agreed. For now. He would try again later. "Can I visit Treel?"

She stopped packing and looked at him. He knew she wanted to tell him no. They had already discussed why Treel had once again been returned to his room and locked inside.

"I'm leaving in two days, and I want to see him before then," he whined. Like most six-year-olds, Eli had learned the b.u.t.tons he could push to get his way. She was forcing him to leave with the orphan's group, and he was offering up something that looked like a compromise.

He knew she would not say no.

CHAPTER 17.

"Why do you keep walking around and around the room?"

Treel paused his pacing. Looked over to the small human seated among the furnishings he had moved to the center of the room. Eli was setting up the pieces for another battle of chess, even though he had been informed there would be no game. Although they had discussed the incoming ships and the seemingly unavoidable threat of war, the boy seemed calmly immune to the forces building around them.

"Movement helps me to think, Little One. I need to be ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I need to be ready to... to leave this planet when the time comes."

Treel almost said "be ready to fight" but checked his tongue. He could not confess his thoughts to the young human, regardless how close they had become. Within days, Grant's offspring-this small human who had helped ease his loneliness over the past few years-would be just as much an enemy as any other human of Earth.

"Do you think the ships are here to take you back?"

"I hope so, Eli. I hope so."

"So do I, Treel," the child responded. The matter-of-fact admission surprised Treel. "I'd miss you, but you've got two sons waiting for you at home. They need you more than I do."

The revelation that Eli understood his pain was a surprise to the Minith warrior, though in retrospect, it should not have been. The child's father was away at war now. Or dead. Either way, he knew what separation was like and, at such a young age, was better able to relate his feelings and motivations to others much better than most Minith ever would. Treel knew it was his race's manner to consider one's individual needs and desires before anyone else's. Consideration of how others felt or what others needed was not one of their strengths. In fact, most of his kind would view that as a very real weakness. Even after so many years with these humans, they continued to show him new ways to think-gave him new ideas to contemplate. Rala would enjoy these beings, he thought.

Eli's comment gave Treel an idea and he set off around the room again. Perhaps he could use the boy's understanding of his goals to his benefit.

"Do you miss your father?"

Eli stopped playing with the pieces on the board and looked up.