THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION, page 3
General Marks took a deep breath, feeling as if his whole world had just turned upside down despite him trying to hold it down. He took a fresh look at the two, still suspicious. It was in his nature to be, that was what had kept him alive for so long.
“You might be wondering if this is an IMPSEC, or military Intelligence trick of some sort.” Richard spoke out aloud exactly, what Clayborn Marks was thinking. Penn slid the box across the table. “As a gesture of good faith.”
“And this is supposed to prove what?”
“Just that this is only a fraction of what I can get my hands on.” Marks looked at the box for a long moment. “You in the market for several tons…” Penn said. “Sorry, several thousand tons of the stuff?”
“So?” General Marks didn't know what else to say. No one had that much Cg material available, not even the Imperials, it was impossible.
“I have a planet covered in it.”
“Now, I know you're lying. You only get…”
“…contra-gravity material in the photosphere of a brown dwarf. I know. I've heard it all before.” Richard finished for him. Marks felt his mental compass spinning again.
“This is going too fast for me.” He growled. “Just what the hell do you two want?” The young man grinned at him. And that, coupled with his eyes was a scary thing.
“What I want is your help in building an army General.” Penn made it sound as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Now the whole setup in the bar fell into place. This wasn’t just some no account saloon in a rough part of town, this was a military unit. He was betting the barkeep was a senior NCO, maybe even a Gunnery Sergeant. The rest of the patrons were probably Marines, or the remains of the Generals staff. Even Moody and his men, betting Moody was a lieutenant at least and just liked to play the role of an intimidating gunfighter. General Clayborn Marks let out a long sigh.
“Oh hell! You would have to go and say something like that.” Marks grumbled. “Just when I was starting to think I might live to a ripe old age, along come two starry-eyed kids who want to go save the fucking world!” He was too old for this shit, way too old. After a long moment, Mark's let out another long sigh.
“So what do you want me to do first?” He said at last, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Chapter Two
Telluria Prime.
Director Markoff leaned back in his contoured chair, feeling it adjust to his new position as he looked at the balding academic at the other end of his overly large office desk. Anywhere else, the desk would have been a conference table. The psychological aspect of the table was lost on most, suggesting as it did the huge gulf between the people at each end. As the Director of Imperial Security and Intelligence, he sat in the enviable position of being the second most powerful being in the Empire next to the Emperor himself. The smooth, lemony yellow, parchment-like skin of his face showed no emotion and most doubted he had any. Those that did were dead, and told no tales.
“It was good of you to come at such short notice, Professor Veolan.” The balding Professor looked nervous, as most knew that a summons from Director Markoff usually meant they were in trouble, deep trouble, even a low level Var.
“I… I came as quickly as I could, Director.” The Professor wished he hadn’t received the summons at all, resisting the urge to pull out a handkerchief and wipe his brow.
The sensitive detection system buried in the surface of the Tar wood table told the Director all he needed to know about his visitor’s state of mind, and his truthfulness. They were well within the parameters of what he expected, and sufficient for the upcoming interview. Keeping people on the edge had its advantages, but in this case, abject fear wasn’t what he wanted.
“Let me reassure you, Professor Veolan, this is nothing more than a polite discussion, and there is no need for alarm.” His instruments flickered slightly, showing a decrease in tension.
“I’m so glad. I thought for a moment I might have… that is, that I’d done something wrong.”
“Not at all. I merely wanted to discuss certain aspects of your specialty in private.”
“I see.” Not that he did.
To a certain extent, he lived and worked in the rarefied atmosphere of the academic world on social profiling, and psychological motivation that had little to do with the real world around him. It also helped isolate him from the more distasteful aspects of imperial politics and daily life of the capital, and especially IMPSEC and its Director. His main concern in life was surviving the constant jockeying for fellowship grants and ensuring his tenure at the university.
“Would you care for a Kaf, Professor?” It was nothing more than a means to put the Professor a little more at ease.
“Um… yes, I would… if it’s not too much trouble that is.” The Professor answered, a little taken by surprise. Director Markoff wasn’t known for treating his visitors with such social pleasantries.
“No trouble at all, Professor.”
Director Markoff sent the command by mental relay through his computer systems, and a few moments later a door opened and a slave arrived with a tray bearing a carafe of Kaf, cups and sweetener. Director Markoff looked at the slave with a certain degree of distaste, silently cursing Richard Penn for stealing all of the beautiful young Earth slaves the palace had before… Markoff pulled his mind back from going down that thought path again, and brought it back to the interview at hand.
“I read your report to military high command with interest on the assimilation of the Refru collective.”
“Thank you, Director. I try to do my part in helping our glorious military and diplomatic services overcome resistance to our… acquisition of new territory.” He refrained from using the word conquest, preferring to remain with safer words to describe the brutal conquest on an alien culture.
“Yes, understanding the state of mind of any species is key to bringing that culture into line with our more enlightened Imperial… doctrine, shall we say.”
“Yes, Director. I’m sure you found my poor treatise on the subject dry reading for a lay person like yourself.” It was only after the words were out of his mouth that he realized just how condescending that sounded. If the Director took umbrage at the words, nothing showed.
“Not at all. I found it fascinating if somewhat long winded. Could you put your theory into words that a poor lay person like myself would understand?” He said as a not so subtle hint that the Professor should choose his words a little more carefully in future. From the expression on the Professor’s face, he’d taken the words to heart.
“Um… well, simply put, all societies and cultures have certain underlying motives for resisting or accepting Imperial… occupation. Once you understand what that motivation is, it is relatively easy to pacify a species. In the case of the Refru collective, it was simply the understanding of their herd instinct. Individually they will do anything to protect the herd…”
“Quite so…” Director Markoff cut the Professor of as gently as he was able before he launched into a long winded diatribe, which he was noted for, of how and why the Refru collective had finally submitted to the Empires rule. “…and it is in regard for your outstanding work in that department that the Emperor has graciously agreed to raise your Var status.” Hearing this, the Professor paled slightly. The Director’s sensors jumped.
“T… thank… thank you, Director… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing. As of now, you will be permitted to use Var in your title, Professor Var Veolan.” The shadow of something akin to a smile crossed the Director’s lips for a moment. So much for the carrot, now the stick.
“Tell me Professor, have you done any work on what drives humans?” The sensors showed the Professor’s heart rate shoot through the roof, hearing that, and it took a moment for him to calm himself sufficiently to speak.
It was well known, but only whispered, that anyone who had anything to do with the invasion and the attempted conquest of the human planet called Earth had met with an unfortunate ‘accident’. The Professor didn’t want one of them to be him, or his family. Clearly, the Professor was reluctant for the same reason.
“Come - come, Professor. I only ask out of curiosity.” The Director lied.
“Well, yes… I have done some preliminary work… but only after the um… conquest, not before.” He ended with a rush.
“Yes, I understand that.”
“Had I been consulted before the invasion, I might have been able to avert the…”
“…catastrophic repercussions of that event?” The Director finished for him.
“Yes, sir. That is one way to put it.” He could only thank the all-wise Mother that he hadn’t been involved.
For once, Director Markoff sympathized with another being and understood the Professor's reluctance in discussing Earth, or humans for that matter, wishing he didn't have to either. Earth had turned out to be more trouble than any other ten planets combined. The staggering losses in front line troops had surpassed those in major conflicts with the Thrakee, or the Silurians, and yet, to this day, no one had been able to figure out what gave humans to such a fanatical will to fight. Young, old, and even children had refused to submit to the Empire’s rule.
“I have studied other warlike cultures to help our brave military to um… assimilate other races into our greater Galactic Empire, but with so little direct knowledge of Earth and its people, it is difficult to ascertain what drives them, Director. Even with the fragmentary data Imperial Intelligence supplies.” It was nicely phrased, but the Director understood his not wanting to go out on a limb where humans were concerned.
“Please be assured, Professor. Nothing you tell me will in any way affect you, or your family.” Unless he could put the Professor at ease, it was doubtful he could get anything useful out of him, except by more aggressive methods.
“Well, Director.” For a moment, the Professor fiddled with his blue and white academician’s scarf around his neck as if it were too tight. “Humans are a contradiction.”
“How so?”
“Based upon my reading of all available data concerning Earth and its inhabitants, I have concluded that unlike most civilized cultures, they lack a sense of a racial identity.” Director Markoff nodded. This fact had been brought to his attention by others as well.
“In the last ten thousand years of Earth's recorded history, they have only had a few years of peace. That is to say, no major inter-tribal conflicts. This race has been at war with itself on an escalating scale right up to the moment Imperial troops landed.” Even with the same database to examine, the Director knew he’d missed that particular point.
“In the last two hundred years before Earth was…” the Professor coughed, “…added to the Tellurian Empire, ninety percent of the world's population was engaged in two major wars that caused the death of hundreds of millions of humans.” The Professor stopped for a moment and looked the Director in the eyes. “These humans are truly mad… they even dropped nuclear weapons on each other! Over the centuries, they have become experts at killing each other, and now us.”
That was appalling even to the Director. A large rock, or main battery pulse cannon fired from a battleship in orbit, yes. But a nuclear weapon in atmosphere? He could only think of one time that option had been used by the Empire, and that was before he’d become the Director. It was also in the early days of expansion, before his more benevolent attitude had taken over. The contamination levels had hindered mining and administrative operations, as well as the availability and longevity of the available slave labor. Using nuclear weapons to end a war wasn't cost effective to his way of thinking.
“Please continue, Professor. I’d like to learn and understand as much as I can about these humans.” These humans had already taken up more of his time than any other three species combined.
“Yes, Director,” feeling a little more at ease, the Professor continued, “to understand what happened on this planet called Earth, you must first understand that originally, our esteemed Imperial Institute for the psychological study of indigenous species made a terrible error. Their analysis was based on the data from a planetary survey probe, incomplete data I might add.” Rather than interrupt, the Director let the man prattle on, as there was information to be gleamed from the seemingly less important aspects of his narration.
“And what terrible error was that, Professor?”
“Well Director, you have to realize that I had little or no input…”
“Calm yourself. You are not here through any fault of yours. This is merely a conversation to enlighten me about these mad humans.”
“But, that’s just it. They aren’t mad… or at least by any standard I can apply.” That surprised the Director as he and so many others had taken it as an article of faith that all humans were mad.
“Please explain, very carefully Professor, how you came to that conclusion.” The Director leaned forward in his seat as a student would who was interested in a particular tale the Professor was imparting.
“The survey data proposed to show the humans had a class II civilization by imperial standards, denoted by the fact they had space flight, and were on the cusp of taking their first jump into interstellar space.”
“That is correct…” The Professor held up his hand.
“On reviewing the data again, and adding it to that which we accumulated later, that proved not to be the case.”
“But… but…” For once Director Markoff found himself at a loss for words. He quickly accessed the data he had at his disposal through his mind link, and at first glance, there didn’t appear to be anything that contradicted the military’s original conclusion.
“The human race had only recently reached out into the space surrounding their planet, despite having a technologically advanced class II civilization, and only sent out one interstellar probe, which by the way was how we located the planet.”
“That makes no sense at all. Once a civilization reaches class II status, they begin to utilize the resources of their planetary systems. H3 from their moons, heavy metals from…”
“The humans did none of that. They still relied primarily on fossil fuels, oil, coal, some wind and solar generation, and primitive nuclear technology. They seemingly spent most of their most technologically advanced research and resources building bigger and better weapons of war.”
“I see, but that doesn’t explain their madness.”
“True, but that was only the first wrong conclusion the Imperial Institute for psychological study of indigenous races made.” The Professor started to look a little smug.
“There is a point you are desperately trying to make, Professor Var Veolan?” Markoff remarked sharply as a not too subtle reminder of who he was talking to.
“Yes, of course, Director.” The Professor swallowed uncomfortably. A Surl he might be, but the Director had the Emperor’s ear. “I understand that your time is precious. I will endeavor to come to the point as quickly as I can.”
“Thank you, Professor. It is much appreciated.” The Director added dryly.
“It is in the nature of the second mistake the Institute made. The assumption was, that as a class II civilization, they had a world government.”
“Of course. That would be the conclusion I would have come to as well. You don’t become a class II civilization unless you have.”
“But that is the point, Director. They didn’t! When our emissary addressed this… council… organization… this UN or United Nations of theirs, it was nothing of the sort. We assumed they were the governing body of the whole planet. They weren’t!” The Director sat back in his seat, blinking slowly as he viewed his files, his forefinger beating a slow tattoo on the armrest. In hindsight, he could see not only how the Institute, but also the Professor had reached their conclusions. Once reorganized, the data fell into place, yet it still didn’t explain the madness.
“No world government,” He muttered, more to himself than the Professor. “I take it there was something else we overlooked?”
“Oh yes, a number of factors. Beside there being no central government, their planet is broken down by regions called ‘countries’, each competing against its neighbor for resources, dominance, prestige and any number of other things, including financial and religious dominance. It wouldn’t have been as bad if we had simply picked on the most powerful of these countries to um… bring into the Empire. The others would have stood by and done little to help, or hinder our occupation, and would later beg to join us.”
“I see, but that still doesn’t explain the madness.” He said again, hoping to get the Professor to come to the point.
“The last several factors will clear up the misunderstanding. First, unlike most species we have encountered, humans have no naturally occurring submission mechanism in their genetic makeup. They might submit individually, but in a group, if they have a chance to fight, they will, even against a much stronger opponent.” The Director nodded, understanding the vids of humans attacking Imperial positions in suicidal waves. No matter how many they’d killed, they’d kept on coming until there were none left, or the troops ran out of power packs.”
“The one item everyone overlooked was the fact that humans are mostly organized around the protection of the family units. Children first, then parents, grandchildren, grandparents, extended family, social groups, city, state and so on up the scale until they only loosely show allegiance at a national level.”
“And this accounts for their madness?”
“No, Director.” The Professor took a deep breath. “When the sector Governor put Imperial troops on the ground without due restraint, they started killing the adults and enslaving the children per standard imperial doctrine. It was at that point the humans went mad.”
“But… but… they could always have more children…” Then it struck him. Until this moment, he’d never understood why Penn was so willing to work for him. It was his threat to kill, not just a city, but all the children in that city. For a brief moment he understood the glimpse of hell he’d seen in Penn’s Golden Eyes. It was the place where Penn would send him one day if he couldn’t find and kill him first.
