"You know I do, Treel."

"What would you do if your father was being held captive by my people on Waa?"

"I'd do anything I could to get to him. To save him."

"I believe you would, Eli. And that is a good thing. It shows you care for him." Treel stopped walking. Turned to face the small human directly. He waved his hand at the room they were in. "And yet here I am. Being kept from my family."

"That's different. You invaded our planet. You're here because of what you did. Not because of what we did."

Treel was surprised again. The boy understood the nuances of the Minith/Human relationship much better than he had thought.

He tried a different tack.

"I'm not here because of what I did, Eli. I'm here because of what my leaders decided. I didn't want to be here-away from my mate and my offspring-they sent me here. I was just doing my job."

"Did you ever kill any humans while doing your job?"

Treel was tempted to lie. Could not.

"Yes."

"Were you protecting yourself or anyone else when you killed them?"

"No."

Eli slammed his hand down on the playing surface. The pieces flew up, then scattered across the floor.

"Well, my dad would never do that!"

The child stomped his foot for emphasis and Treel felt a twinge of shame. He knew Eli was telling the truth. The father would not kill unless forced to do so. He knew the man well enough to know that.

The slight pang of shame he had felt was quickly overshadowed by the aching need to get home. It was accompanied by a sudden flash of anger which he bit down upon. Swallowed forcibly. He took a breath and stilled his ears. Anger was not the way.

He tried a different path.

"Eli, are we friends?"

The young human sat down slowly. He began idly picking up the fallen p.a.w.ns and returning them to their place on the board.

"Yes."

"If you could, would you help me get back home? Back to my sons?"

The human slumped in his seat.

"Yes," he sighed.

Treel's anger was replaced by tentative hope. The hope was followed by a strangely intense curiosity.

"Why?" It was not the thing to ask-he should have pressed his advantage-but he could not stop himself. He needed to know why the boy would ever help him after hearing that he had killed innocent humans.

"You need to get back to your kids. And because I trust you."

Trust.

Such a foreign concept for the Minith.

Trust.

He had heard the word before, but was not certain he understood its meaning. He wondered what the word meant to Eli.

"What does this mean? 'Trust?'"

The human child grew still and thought for a minute before answering.

"Hard to explain. We're friends, so I trust you. But you can trust people who aren't your friends, too. It means we can be safe around each other, no matter what. And that when you say you are going to do something, you have to do it. It's kind of like a promise, but you don't actually say that you promise." The boy shook his head and tossed his hands up. "I can't explain it very well. Sorry."

But Treel thought he had explained it well enough. Trust meant that Eli felt safe around him; and that was more than adequate for him.

Treel wondered if trust really existed among humans. Could it exist? It seemed like such an outlandish concept.

Peace is nothing more than trust taken to an extreme.

The Minith felt his mind expand with a sudden burst of insight at the thought. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of how humans might have come to exist in their current form. For peace to exist, it required trust. Trust on a grand scale.

If you could not trust your neighbor not to steal from you, there could be no peace. If you could not trust those with different thoughts or opinions not to fight you, there could be no peace. For peace to exist on a planet-wide scale like it had existed here on Earth, trust had to be nearly universal among the humans.

Impossible.

How could anyone expect their leaders, bosses, and overlords to act in a manner that instilled trust? How could a male trust that his mate would not leave him for a better choice when the opportunity was presented? How could a world of billions trust that none of their fellow humans would do them harm? Or try to take advantage of them?

At best, peace is a timid house of cards, ready to topple at the first small breath.

No. Without universal trust between each and every single human, peace was not possible. At some point, trusts would be broken. Those breaches would create fear, and those fears would highlight individual ambitions and differences. Eventually, those ambitions and differences would drive a stake into the heart of peace.

But trust.

Trust was a different animal. Trust was a concept Treel could get behind, if only on a limited basis. He could understand trusting his family-his sons and, to a lesser degree, his mate. Perhaps he could even trust friends.

Of one thing he was certain. If Eli's trust could help him get home, he would foster that emotion and use it to his benefit.

The last crate was placed and the workers left the Leadership Council's chambers. When the door was finally closed on the last worker, Quasan Allah, the Musl'n Culture Leader, could not sit still any longer.

"What is in the boxes, Leader Trevino?"

Randalyn waited for a count of five before responding. "They are weapons, Quasan. Rifles, to be exact."

Gasps went up around the table. Peace mantras were whispered. Randalyn ignored the nonsense. The time for Peace had left them years ago, and several of her peers had yet to realize that fact. It was time they grew up, and she had just the thing to help them reach maturity. She waited for the inevitable question; wondered from which of the other Culture Leaders it would come. She guessed either Quasan or Sabatina Sabontay, the Urop'n representative. They were the most vocal holdouts for Peace-a Peace that had once belonged to their world, but no longer.

"Why would you bring weapons into the Council chambers, Randalyn?" The Urop'n Leader remained true to form. The question was tossed onto the table with the clipped, precise tones of Earth Standard language. Randalyn missed the less-formal speech that had become the norm inside the former prison. Grant, Mouse, and their warriors had pulled her own patterns of speech back to an easier, more relaxed cadence, and she had to concentrate on speaking in the manner to which her peers at the table were accustomed.

"It is a simple matter of expediency, Sabatina. When the Minith arrive-and they will-I wish to be prepared. I will not sit by this time while the aliens kill those around us."

Randalyn noticed the faces around the table at the reminder of the last time the Minith had visited their Council chambers. After that visit, the table before them-well, the table that had preceded the table where they now sat-had bodies stacked upon it like cordwood. Sabatina, Quasan, and Suyung Trey, the As'n Leader, closed their eyes at the memory. Primo Esteval, the S'mercan Leader and the Leader Elect of the Council, showed no reaction, good or bad.

The reaction of the Afc'n Culture Leader, Diekela Mamun, was most surprising. She met Randalyn's eyes and nodded in agreement.

"I will also be prepared, should the Minith attempt to enter the building," she stated simply. The announcement got the attention of the other members of the Council and she stared bravely at each of them in turn.

"It is a near certainty that the Minith will come here," Randalyn stated. She and Grant, before he had left, and Mouse since then, had discussed the obvious targets for any Minith invasion force. The two most logical places for the aliens to attack were Violent's Prison and Earth's Leadership Council building. One was the military nerve center of the planet; the other was the cultural and political hub for Earth's population. "That is why General Mouse has moved a large portion of our army to the city. He wishes to be prepared when the alien forces arrive."

"But the soldiers in the armed forces can protect us," Quasan argued. "They are trained for Violence. Normal citizens are not."

"Just what is normal, Leader Allah?" Primo Esteval asked. "Is it normal that we have thousands of troops camped outside the city? Or that four alien motherships are two days away from our planet? Can any of us afford to be 'normal' citizens in such a situation? I think not. I would arm every man, woman, and child who was willing to receive a weapon, if that is what it would take to turn back the Minith."

The depth of feeling the Leader Elect projected surprised everyone at the table, except Randalyn. She had asked for, and received, his approval prior to bringing the weapons into the Council's chambers. He had let her know then that he was willing to fight if needed. To the others, Esteval was normally a centrist voice in their debates, someone who saw the benefits of all sides of a debate and who was unwilling to fall on one side or another unless he was forced to do so. But that had obviously changed.

"But we are a Peaceful race, Esteval," Sabatina said. Her words were spoken calmly, but there was an underlying tone of urgency that struck Randalyn as pleading. She was pleading for the past-for a way of life that had been stolen from them nearly twenty years earlier by the invading aliens. Randalyn's heart went out to her fellow Leader. If only they could turn back the clock.

"We were a Peaceful race, Sabatina," the As'n Leader added. Suyung's normally quiet demeanor lent immediate levity to her words. When she spoke, the table always listened. "But that time has pa.s.sed. If we fight the Minith, we have a chance to regain Peace. If we do not fight, we will certainly lose it forever. I will take up a weapon when the time arrives."

"I have already been trained on the rifle," Diekela announced. "I will be ready."

"Have you all gone Violent?" The undertone of pleading gave way to obvious disbelief. Sabatina Sabontey raised her hands from the table's surface. With her left, she indicated those at the table. With her right, she pointed to the crates stacked next to the door. "We are the Leaders of our respective Cultures. How can we take up weapons and be an example for those whom we lead?"

"No, Sabatina." Quasan, her only ally, spoke up. "How can we be an example for those we lead if we do not take up weapons against the invaders?"

Sabatina slumped in her chair and closed her eyes. Randalyn knew the Urop'n Leader was crushed at being abandoned by her final ally for Peace. She reached across the table and squeezed the other woman's hand. Although Sabatina was alone in her beliefs, the N'mercan Leader wanted her to know she was not alone in her grief or her distress.

After a few moments, the Urop'n representative opened her eyes and nodded her understanding. She was a strong, intelligent woman who knew when she was defeated.

"Fine. I will take up a weapon."

Randalyn gave a final squeeze. Then she stood up, opened the door, and called for the army officer that waited outside.

The officer-a major from the Afc'n Culture-entered, received her nod, and immediately went to the crates. He opened the lid on the top box and removed two rifles. He pa.s.sed them to Randalyn, who pa.s.sed one along to Primo Esteval. The second one she pa.s.sed to Sabatina.

It was time for training.

CHAPTER 18.

The chattering group of children rushed from the east entrance of the prison to the small fleet of waiting carriers. The playful jostling for position was interrupted by periodic squeals of excitement as they fought to board the six vehicles waiting to whisk them to safety. Their gleeful approach to the adventure almost made Ceeray believe this was a day like any other. Unfortunately, it was not. This group of five- to twelve-year-olds was made up of forty-plus evacuees. They were the last group of orphans to be relocated from the place they had called home for the past few years-the large military fort formerly known as Violent's Prison.

The ability to see in daylight was still new to the interpreter after so many years on the alien mothership, and she paused for a few, brief moments to absorb the sights that surrounded her. The exterior of the mammoth structure was a hive of activity. The three-hundred-meter area immediately circling the prison was a canvas in motion as countless carriers touched down or lifted off with no apparent rhythm or reason. Each vehicle was at the mercy of its pilot and the task to which he or she had been a.s.signed. Some delivered equipment or soldiers to the field, while others carried supplies or-like the fleet she was now loading-civilians away from the area. Still others had no objective that Ceeray could discern.

In the distance, beyond the field of harried carriers, the forces of Earth-the so-called Peace Army-a.s.sembled, prepared, and waited. A brown, dusty haze hung over a teeming ma.s.s of tents, vehicles, and warriors. The haze and the ma.s.s grew with each incoming carrier.

Ceeray's attention was inevitably drawn back to the brightly colored jumpsuits of the children dashing around her. She briefly considered what her life might be like if Derk had lived. They had discussed having a child, but life with the Minith had made that impossible. The dream had been rekindled briefly after their escape, but Derk's death on Telgora had snuffed out that glimmer of hope before it had a chance to become real. The best she could do now was to lend her help and protection to these orphans-they were her children now.

She shook off her scattered thoughts and refocused on the task of ushering the young evacuees into the aircraft as quickly and efficiently as possible. The evacuation from the prison to the mine had not gone as quickly or as smoothly as Mister Blue had planned or hoped. Despite the administrator's overwhelming competence, moving thousands of civilians and non-essential personnel from their homes was not as easy as they had antic.i.p.ated. As a result, they were woefully behind schedule. With the Minith craft less than a day from Earth, every able body that could be spared from military preparations was being asked to pitch in and get the remaining civilians moved out. This group of children did not have to worry about being safely nestled into their new quarters when the Minith arrived, but some of the groups scheduled to follow them did. It would be close.

Over a few protests, the interpreter had to re-balance two of the carriers before they could take off. Friends wanted to ride with friends, and breaking up close-knit groups was not accepted as readily as she would have hoped. Finally, she shooed the last of the children onboard.

Eli ducked back inside the empty apartment as Ceeray, his mom's friend, rushed by. She was looking at the papers in her hand, which was good. It meant she wasn't looking for the three runaways. When her footsteps disappeared, he finally released his breath and gave a thumbs-up to the two orphans with him in the darkened room.

Adrienne, his team leader on the purple squad, looked scared, and Eli felt a twinge of guilt. Because of his own fears and doubts, he had convinced her to hide away while the rest of their group boarded the carriers. It was probably the most daring thing she had ever done, and he was responsible. Without his begging her to join him, she would be aboard one of those carriers now-headed for safety.

Jonah was a different story. The twelve-year-old had spied them sneaking away from the group and followed them into the vacant apartment. He'd then refused to leave until Eli and Adrienne told him what they were doing. When they had finally admitted that they were staying behind, he announced his plans to stay with them. It was not a situation that sat well with Eli, but he had no choice but to allow the older boy to stay. It was either that or have the red team leader rat them out to Ceeray and the other adults.

"You'd better not be lying about the Minith, Eli," Jonah threatened. The older boy was excited about the prospect of visiting Treel and helping the alien get back to his family.

"Don't worry. I'm not." Eli was still kicking himself for spilling the entire plan to Jonah. He should have told the boy they were just having some fun and were going to wait for the next flight of carriers. "We're going to help Treel get to one of those motherships."

"How are we going to do that?"

Eli wanted to ignore the question, but knew the other boy would not accept that, so he offered the truth.

"I'm not sure yet. Just put on your blades and get ready to move. We need to get to the south corridor."

The capabilities of the mothership continued to astound. They were still hours away from entering Earth's atmosphere, but the view of the planet's surface was surprisingly clear. General Soo wondered what other wonders the ship might possess and made a mental note to question the alien builders carefully when he returned to Waa. Either his people were incompetent at comprehending and using the technology, or the Waa were purposely hiding things from the Minith. Knowing his people as well as he did, Soo thought either possibility equally as likely as the other. The Minith were not known for their technological contributions. Most of their advancements in the field of science and engineering were stolen, or won in battle.

Regardless of how little they previously knew about the ship's video capabilities, the fact remained that they were taking advantage of it now, and for that, Soo was grateful. The views of Earth easily captured the activity taking place near the population center where the human leadership made its home. That was not entirely unexpected. The humans had obviously advanced in the past several years. Their ability to capture and command their own mothership was proof of that. To think they might also develop advance warning of an invading force's arrival was not a stretch.

It was also not unexpected that, once an invading force was detected, the humans would move forces to protect their leadership. That was happening.

What was unexpected was the amount of activity taking place around the large, strange structure known by the humans as Violent's Prison. The importance of that location had obviously changed since the information in his ship's databanks had been updated. The building was not being used as a place to store errant humans any longer-at least, that was not the only purpose for which it was being used. Soo had been a warrior for nearly all his life. He knew what an army looked like. The humans had a.s.sembled one.

Also unexpected was the size of the force the humans had put together. Though not large by Minith standards, it was larger than he had expected. From all published accounts of Earth, the humans were tied to their concept of "peace"-an ideal that was completely foreign to the Minith. Peace supposedly prevented the humans from fighting or from any other form of violence. Something had caused that to change. The destruction of the home planet, the events on Telgora, and now the forces arrayed on the planet below were all clear signs of the change.

Not that it mattered. Although his forces were outnumbered five to one, Soo did not respect the humans' abilities to fight. War was not learned in the s.p.a.ce of a few short years. Strategy requires intelligence and knowing what to expect from your enemy; sound tactics require training and experience on the battlefield. The humans possessed neither, so he discounted the numbers disadvantage.

His ears twitched at the thought of an army of sheep waiting for his arrival. It was an amusing thought, one that brought him much pleasure.

He quickly did the math in his head and reevaluated his attack plan. Dividing his force was not ideal, but if the human flock wanted to die on two separate continents, he would be pleased to accommodate them.