"Apparently so, and he's being held not too far from here," Grant replied. He was glad to be able to deliver the news to t.i.tan. The large ex-Violent and the chunky engineer had formed a tight bond-one that had been apparent from the first time Grant saw them together. They were an unlikely duo, but he could understand how being stranded together on a strange planet for years might have that affect.

"Grant, that's the best news I've heard in a long time. What about the others?"

"Aal and his buddies are going to help us get Gee back. Helping the others is going to be a tad more difficult. They're being held inside a large military compound near the governor's quarters. According to the Waa, they have a few hundred soldiers surrounding them at all times."

"So we're just going to leave them there?" Conway asked, her voice quivering with emotion. Quiet until now, she was suddenly very interested with the conversation. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side.

"Hold on a minute, Sergeant." Grant put up a hand to try to calm her. "No one's leaving them there. But we can only do one thing at a time."

"And this Violent's engineer-buddy takes priority? That's-that's bulls.h.i.t!"

t.i.tan sprang from the chair he had dropped into and advanced on the soldier. The scowl on his face matched the anger in her voice, and Grant quickly leaped between the two.

"Knock it off," he snarled, looking at each in turn. "We've got enough ... stuff ... to deal with already. It's not a matter of anyone taking priority. It's about our chances of success. There's no way we can take on several hundred Minith without getting ourselves killed in the process, and I'm tired of getting folks killed. This is about taking an action that has a reasonable chance of success."

The large man and the relatively small woman glared at each other, but neither tried to fight their way past Grant. He caught t.i.tan's eye and nodded his chin toward the chair. With a grunt, the big man turned his back and resumed his previous position.

"And you," Grant tipped his head toward Conway. "Where did you learn the word 'bulls.h.i.t?'"

"I wonder."

Grant wished he had never brought any of his words or mannerisms to the future. They could only cause damage to the Peaceful citizens of Earth if they became widespread. Despite arguments to the contrary, it wasn't only sticks and stones that could cause hurt. How many past a.s.saults, murders, and wars could be attributed to words? Too many. For the thousandth time, he reminded himself to watch his language more carefully.

"Well, it's not a Peaceful word, so stop using it."

"Since when have you cared about Peace? General." Her tone did not pa.s.s unnoticed, but Grant ignored it, released a heavy sigh. He was so tired.

"I've always cared about peace, Conway, just a different kind. The peace I care about is not capitalized," he explained. "And it's certainly not forced on everyone through societal law. The peace I care about can be defined in very simple terms: the absence of war."

"Forgive me for saying so, General, but your response is ... bulls.h.i.t. One moment you tell me that saying a word is not Peaceful. In the next breath, you tell me that Peace means nothing more than 'the absence of war.' You can't have it both ways."

"The woman has a point, Grant," t.i.tan added.

But Grant's conscious had already processed the point-recognized it as having merit. In fact, Conway's response highlighted the real issue of peace, regardless of whether it was spelled with a capital "P" or not. It was an epiphany for the ancient warrior-a moment of enlightenment that he had felt only a few times in his life, and he looked inward. He gave himself over to a pressing need-a desire to uncover as much of the answer gnawing at the fringes of his mind as he could before it disappeared.

Peace is a concept that seems simple only on the surface. Plat.i.tudes, cliches, and ba.n.a.l considerations are whitewash behind which the true complexities of peace hide. Peace is not merely the absence of a negative force. To be real, peace must also include the presence of a positive force. A cease-fire alone does not const.i.tute peace. To be real, peace must include genuine amity and goodwill. Otherwise, it is merely a lull in the conflict-a brief pause before the next bullet flies.

The concept of Peace, as practiced by the current citizens of Earth, was false. But for the first time in his life, Grant understood that his concept of peace was just as false. Peace is not merely the absence of war. There are too many other factors and conditions that contribute to the concept. Unrest, turmoil, disorder, conflict, strife. None of these are "war," but all affect the ability to achieve and maintain peace.

Grant resurfaced to find t.i.tan and Conway staring at him. He did not know how long he had been under, but he had definitely been s.p.a.cing out. He still did not have the answer to peace-the complexities were simply beyond his ability to decipher. But he did possess a new awareness.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Just thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself, Little Man," t.i.tan taunted. "But I hope you were thinking about how we're going to get Gee."

"No," Grant admitted with an embarra.s.sed smile. "But that's next on my list."

CHAPTER 29.

Patahbay and one of his warriors led the way; the other two Telgorans tailed behind. Grant simply followed along as the Waa sent mind-directions that would take them to the stairwell which would eventually take them up to the surface. He could not help but marvel at the extent of the underground labyrinth they pa.s.sed through as they made their way to the eventual exit point. He had thought the underground caverns of Patahbay and his people were impressive, but even those were nothing like this. Even though they saw none of them, more than a hundred million Waa lived in these pa.s.sageways, if Aal was telling him the truth.

And the Minith believed fewer than three hundred of the planet's natives remained. Incredible.

An hour after they started, Patahbay halted before a nondescript door and looked at Grant.

"We are here."

Grant nodded.

"Everyone, check your weapons. According to Aal, Gee's thoughts don't indicate any presence of soldiers," he informed the others. "On the other hand, the Waa have not made direct, formal contact with Gee, so they can't be certain. We need to be ready for anything."

"How far do we have to climb?" t.i.tan asked his Telgoran friend. "I remember it being a long climb down to get here."

"Still a long climb," Patahbay replied, his words accompanied by the now-familiar nods of the four dindin warriors.

"Just great."

"It didn't seem that bad to me," Grant chided. They all knew he had been unconscious for most of the journey down from the surface.

"General, you're gonna need those legs of yours before we're through," Conway said, indicating the scientifically modified appendages he had been given. She then pointed to t.i.tan. "h.e.l.l, you'll probably have to carry this guy most of the way up."

"Ha," t.i.tan replied. "I'm twice your size. I'll be carrying you before we're through."

"Not likely. I remember your wheezing and coughing after that little run we had a few months back. I don't think your endurance has improved since then."

"Let's save our breaths for topside, shall we?" Grant asked, interrupting their back-and-forth. "We'll know soon enough who's in shape and who isn't."

An hour and more than three thousand steps later, Grant and the Telgorans reached the top. Grant was winded and his legs ached; the Telgorans looked ready to go another three thousand steps. The veteran soldier sat on the top step and waited for the other two humans.

Conway arrived ten minutes later, gasping for breath and with sweat pouring down her face. She collapsed to the landing with a groan and lay unmoving.

When t.i.tan showed up twenty minutes later, Conway was leaning lazily against the side of the landing with her arms crossed. She nonchalantly whistled a tune Grant did not recognize, but that obviously wasn't the point.

t.i.tan spared only a moment to glare daggers at the sergeant before collapsing to the deck. It was the same thing Conway had done when she reached the landing, but Grant wasn't going to tell t.i.tan that. She had earned her small victory.

"Twenty minutes to let 'Mr. Big' here regain his legs and wind. Then we move out," Grant announced.

Gee was bored. It was a growing problem for the engineer, who was used to having too much to do, not too little. After nearly three months of captivity, his only real activities involved spending time with his warden's sons, Arok and Teng, and eating.

Of those two activities, he had to admit that being with the two young Minith was the preferred. Although Minith and humans are both omnivorous and can usually digest similar foods, finding a suitable meal that was pleasing to all his senses had proven a challenge. Fortunately, Rala had been patient, and seemed to care enough about his well-being to be concerned with his needs. After a week of trying various foods, he had settled on his top three or four choices-all vegetables native to Waa-and had learned to enjoy them almost as much as his Earth favorites. Through the course of the effort, he had somehow managed to lose the extra ring of pounds that had always fleshed out his waistline. For the first time in his life, he was actually slim.

As for the young Minith, Gee was surprised to find them interesting companions, as well as likeable. His previous experiences with the alien soldiers posted to Earth had only shown him one side of the race-and it had not been their best side. The boys were compet.i.tive in almost everything they did, but that was to be expected. They were Minith, after all. What was not expected were the regular displays of humor, intelligence, and tolerance. Neither boy, nor their mother, fit the previous vision he had held of the Minith. In those rare instances when he dropped his guard and the thought crept up on him, he wondered how many 'good' Minith he had killed when his engineering handiwork helped destroyed their home planet.

Soon after his capture, he was released from his room-he preferred calling it a room versus a cell-to observe Arok and Teng take part in combat training. He found the activity excessively violent, but there was a certain rush of excitement that came with the violence when he realized they were not trying to hurt each other. He expressed his pleasure to Rala, and after that was often allowed to watch the boys take their lessons. On each occasion, he was asked to offer feedback and constructive criticism on how each lesson went and whether he felt each boy performed up to his best. Because of his inability and his personal lack of desire to fight, he rarely had anything to offer.

What he did have to offer was his own knowledge and experience, and he looked for ways to use his abilities to help ease the boredom-filled days. As the weeks pa.s.sed, his attention turned to the problems of weapons and fighting. He still considered himself a Peace-loving human, but the aggressive habitat in which he found himself understandably caused him to begin thinking in those terms.

The boys sparred primarily with their bodies, staffs, and dulled blades to minimize injury. The boys' mother had made it clear that neither would be allowed to pick up a Minith pulse weapon until they were sufficiently trained in the manual arts of combat. According to Rala, their father had once told her that training with a pulse weapon gave a fighter a false sense of power, and he declared that his sons would learn to defend themselves with nothing more than their hands and the tools they could find in any Minith home. She had taken that to heart, and in his absence was putting his declaration into reality with their training regimen.

As any good engineer would, Gee put his mind to thinking about weapons that could be created using simple items. He didn't begin with the notion of needing a weapon, just with a question of "what are the possibilities?" It did not take him long to come up with an idea, and he requested some simple items be delivered to his room. Thirty minutes later, Gee had turned them into pa.s.sable versions of what he envisioned. Pleased that the idea was sound, Gee waited anxiously for the next sparring session. The following morning, he got his chance.

He sat quietly as Arok and Teng went through their daily training rituals. This morning's cla.s.s was on the use of their feet as weapons. After an hour of back-and-forth sparring, with oversight provided by their mother, the boys finally finished. Satisfied that their session was concluded, Gee politely asked Rala if he could show them what he had been working on. The Minith mother quickly agreed.

As the three aliens watched with attentive silence, Gee laid out a long, thin, flexible staff made up of a native wood. Beside the long staff, he laid out three shorter, slimmer versions. When the staffs were arranged, he drew a thin cord from his pocket and attached it to one end of the long staff. Once the cord was attached, Gee placed the tied end on the ground and bent the staff as far as the flexibility in the wood would allow. He then attached the cord to the other end. In this manner, he created a crude, but effective, bow.

Gee then pointed to one of the cactus-like plants that surrounded the sparring field and notched one of the shorter staffs onto the cord of the bow. He pulled the cord back and aimed carefully at the plant. When he released the cord, the makeshift arrow flew quickly in the direction of the plant. It missed the mark by several feet, but the show impressed his audience. Teng and Arok stomped their feet and shouted.

Rala, however, was less than happy, and when Gee picked up a second arrow, she interceded.

"Stop!"

After years serving the Minith as a slave on a mothership, Gee was familiar with the tone they used to convey an order. He immediately ceased nocking the bow and turned to the alien mother. Despite the boys' apparent glee at his demonstration, Rala's body language showed anger, worry, and a hint of fear.

His initial moment of confusion was suddenly overpowered by a touch of clarity. He was a human. He had a weapon in his hands. A Minith mother and her two offspring were within striking distance. He dropped the bow and arrow as if scalded.

The arrows weren't sharpened; they were basically just sticks that could be fired from the bow. And his attempt at shooting the plant showed how inaccurate they were. On top of that, the thought of shooting at the Minith had never occurred to him. The idea, now that it had been put into his head, both appalled and frightened him. But Rala could not know that.

She had quickly dismissed him, but demanded he leave the bow and arrows behind. He had slouched away, certain that his actions had just committed him to never leaving his room-his cell-again.

That had been ten days ago, and to his disbelief, he had been invited to practice the very next day. The surprises continued when, at the conclusion of the practice, Rala asked him to work on the weapon, perfect it for her sons' use.

A week later, the improved bow was finished and both boys had incorporated it into their personal a.r.s.enals and their training. Unfortunately for Gee, the boredom returned with the weapon's completion.

Now, waiting in his room to be summoned to the day's lesson, he wondered what else he could do to fill the empty hours.

Rala marched confidently down the corridor to the outer courtyard. This was the best part of her day-being with her sons as they trained to become warriors. Planning how to wrest control of their race from the incompetence of Governor Truk and his cronies took ninety-five percent of her concentration and focus. The remaining five percent she dedicated to her sons, and that time together did more than cement their family bond. It also cleansed her mind of the detritus that accompanied the political manipulations required of her position, and prepared her palate for the next round. These few hours with Arok and Teng made the rest of her day bearable.

The training periods also gave her an opportunity to observe and study the human male. Like most Minith, she had heard the stories-humans were meek, easily controlled animals, with no will to determine their own destiny. But those stories did not fit with what she had seen from her office window as the human attackers fought their way through thousands of trained soldiers. The stories did not explain their willingness to destroy an entire planet of sentient beings. She wondered if others recognized this dichotomy. From her discussions with Truk and most of the military with whom she interacted, she knew most of her kind did not fully comprehend what the humans were capable of accomplishing. They were not merely sheep, satisfied with their place as slaves in service to a superior race. No, they were able and willing to rise up against their superiors when given an opportunity.

The need to understand humans was what kept Rala from turning the male over to Truk. Gee was an intriguing being. He seemed genuinely afraid of showing any form of self-aggression, which conformed to what she had always heard about humans. The incident with the bow was a good example. He had held the weapon and could have easily turned its use toward her or her sons, but he had not. His hiding in the closet of her building while his fellow warriors fought was another example. On the other hand, he'd had no objection to creating the weapon, or observing her sons as they practiced their fighting. If anything, he proved that humans were complex beings who could not be neatly placed into a single descriptive bucket.

She stopped at the human's cell and rapped lightly.

"Yes," came the muted reply.

"It is time for the boys' training. Your presence is required in the courtyard."

"Of course."

Rala turned and walked away, confident that he would allow her to reach the courtyard first, and then follow shortly behind. The male's a.s.signment to the mothership on Earth had its advantages. His knowledge of Minith customs and language made his absorption into her household much easier. He understood that she ruled here, and his only role was to obey her commands. His intelligence, and the knowledge that he was under her protection, helped solidify their relationship.

Despite the fact that his cell was never locked, the male understood his situation. He was trapped on a planet of Minith-all who hated humans. Where could he possibly go?

CHAPTER 30.

The small group waited patiently just inside one of the see-through viewing doors that the Waa-and now the Minith-used in most of their buildings. There were only a couple of Minith visible on the street outside, and they were moving away in opposite directions. As soon as the street was clear, they would move across the wide street and over the ten-foot wall on the other side. With luck, they would not be seen. As the sole force against an entire world of hostile enemies, stealth and invisibility were requirements-not only for their own survival, but for the survival of Gee and the other humans being held by the Minith. Any slip-up here would lead to a quick and certain capture, or death.

None of them knew what waited on the other side of the far wall, but the Waa told them that was where Gee was being held. So, that's where they were going. They would just have to deal with whatever they found. Not ideal, but neither was leaving the engineer where he was.

They were short on firepower and ammunition, having only what they were carrying when they fled the Minith attack. Conway and t.i.tan each held the standard rifles they had carried into the initial battle. Combined, they had less than three hundred rounds of ammunition left. Grant, having lost his weapon when he was wounded, carried Patahbay's pulse weapon, which retained a little more than half its full charge-which was still substantial. Patahbay had insisted on giving the general the weapon, and Grant had not argued. The Telgorans, while fearsome warriors at hand-to-hand, had not proven themselves very effective with the rifles they had been issued. During the previous battle, he had watched more than one of the warriors use the weapon as little more than a club against the Minith.

Patahbay now carried only his agsel staff, and Grant felt that the master dindin fighter was pleased to be rid of the human weapon. The four other Telgorans wielded similar agsel staffs, but at Grant's insistence, still toted their pulse rifles. Even if they did nothing more than use them as bludgeons, the weapons would be good to have on hand if-when-he, Conway, or t.i.tan ran out of ammo.

Grant watched the last alien turn a far corner and did a final scan. No Minith were in sight. Now was as good a time as any.

"Let's go," he said and pushed through the door.

The much-quicker Telgorans reached the wall first and set up according to Grant's instructions. Two of the rifle-bearing warriors trained their weapons toward opposite ends of the road while two others crouched down and faced each other, their hands held low. As Grant watched, Patahbay jumped into the waiting hands and was launched skyward. The two Telgorans scuttled a meter to the right and crouched again. He didn't wait to see if the alien fighter made it over the wall because it was suddenly his turn. Without breaking stride, he jumped into the waiting hands-one booted foot for each set. He had time to bend his knees slightly, then, like Patahbay before him, he was launched up and over the ten-foot wall.

At the pinnacle of his brief flight, he scanned the other side while also preparing his body for the upcoming landing.

Open courtyard.

Hard-packed dirt.

Gee.

Three Minith-one pointing a bow and arrow at Patahbay.

His mind processed the last just as he struck the ground and began moving into his PLF, or parachute landing fall. Although he hadn't jumped from a plane in more than six hundred years, the landing technique was ingrained into his body and brain. With his legs together and knees bent, he counted off the steps as he rolled sideways: b.a.l.l.s of the feet, calf, thigh, b.u.t.tocks, push-up muscle.

He swung his legs around, completing the move, and raised his weapon. But he was too late.

The arrow was already in flight.

To say that the unexpected appearance of a Telgoran dropping over the wall surprised Rala would be an understatement. This was her home and refuge-the place where she felt most secure. Her imagination, at its wildest, could never have come up with this scenario. Before she had an opportunity to recognize the situation for what it was, it got even wilder.

A human had also popped up from the other side of the outer wall, and as she watched in stunned silence, began dropping into her courtyard as well.

Though it seemed like much longer, her inability to comprehend what was taking place lasted less than two seconds. When she was finally able to react to the threat, her first coherent thought was for the safety of Teng and Arok.