Harry's Sacrifice (26 page)

Sure enough, around noon, Ronin guided them to a more secure area. It was the aviator’s mess hall that faced one of the landing ports. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated one entire side of the large room and the vast majority of people present were warriors or those who served the warrior class. They had crossed into one of the clearly military sectors of the city.

Hara seemed in his element among the warriors. He had been one of their greatest leaders during his earlier lifetime and it was clear the military men all around had great respect for the ancient ones in their midst.

All of a sudden, a rumble arose from the side of the room where the windows faced the mountains. Many heads turned to see what was going on. Harry looked at Caleb and the Oracle smiled.

“This is it,” Caleb whispered.

“What is it?”
Harry sent privately.

“Watch and see.
Our Alvian friends are about to get a wakeup call.”

Hara turned in his seat to face the windows. Their party had claimed a table alongside the windows to enjoy their lunch, positioning themselves perfectly to see the fighter jets closing in on them from over the mountains.

“Fighter jets?” Harry marveled aloud. “Human aircraft?”

He’d never seen any in person, but he’d heard about them and seen images at the farm. Uncle Justin had books about the famous military aircraft and even a few precious scale models he’d allowed the kids to look at but not handle unless he was present.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Caleb stood and walked right up to the window. “I think those are old Harriers. See the way they can hover?”

Sure enough, an aircraft rose right in front of the window, its deadly missiles aimed at the gathered crowd, but the Alvians didn’t see the threat at first. Caleb stood and waved to the pilot, who seemed surprised at first, then waved back.

“Bet he didn’t expect to see a human having lunch with all you aliens,” Caleb said aloud for benefit of the cameras. “Those missiles are live, boys. Unless you all want to die in the next few minutes, I suggest you find a way to communicate with them. Do you have a way to receive and send radio transmissions?”

One of the Alvians scrambled to raise a console from the center of the table they’d been sitting at, but Percival waved him aside once the console had popped up. “Allow me,” Percival said with great theatricality.

He input a few codes and a moment later, static sounded through the quiet mess hall. Everyone was watching to see what would happen next.

“Hello, Harrier fleet. My name is Percival. We’re having some excitement in the city today and you are a welcome part of it. Glad you could join us.”

“What?” came the confused reply. “Who is this?”

Percival waved to the man in the cockpit who hovered only a few yards away and smiled. Hara laughed and clapped Percival on the shoulder, moving to take the con.

“Sorry about him. This is Hara, of the First Exploration Fleet. You have my sincerest apologies for what my people have done to yours and your planet in their misguided attempt to take over rather than coexist with the race that was already here. You are welcome in our city, and I hope this day will mark the beginning of the end of hostilities between our two cultures. One of the warriors can give you instructions for landing. Perhaps a small party could join us for a meal to parlay?”

“I’m Major Thomas Rollins, United States Marine Corps,” the pilot closest to them said.
“Any telepaths out there?”
the same voice sounded on the psychic plane, broadcasting to any who might hear him. Harry heard him and realized the man had a very strong psychic talent, similar to his Uncle Mick’s.

“We hear you, Major,”
Caleb said calmly, including Harry in his silent communication.

“Who else is with you?”
the major asked, clearly able to discern a group telepathic response from a singular communication. Impressive.

“I’m here too. My name is Harry. I’m half
-
Alvian and half-human. This is my Uncle Caleb. And that Alvian you just spoke to is the ancient ancestor of our family. He has emotions and always has.”
Harry tried to sum it up, but there was just too much to cover. He was probably confusing the hell out of the poor man.

“Caleb? Are you the one they call the Oracle?”

Harry was impressed his Uncle’s talents had become so widely known.

“I suppose so,”
Caleb answered.
“And if you know my name, then I suppose you’ve dealt with my daughter’s mate, Rick? Or was it Davin? Last I heard, they were supplying the power crystals to convert your aircraft and other equipment.”

“Right you are, sir. I’ve dealt mostly with Rick, but I’ve seen the Alvian a time or two. Downright spooky to see one of them with emotions.”

“Well, there are a few more like that one standing next to me,”
Caleb confirmed.

“Are these guys on the level?”
The human pilot seemed both surprised and suspicious.

“Yes. They want peace among our peoples. They want to stop the idiocy and atrocities that the Alvians have been committing and change things for the better. I’d listen to them before I let any of those missiles loose.”

“Roger that.”
The pilot seemed to come to a decision. “All right. I’ll land and speak with you,” he said aloud over the radio. “But I want you to take a good look at my fleet, as you called it. We represent only a fraction of what we can bring to bear. It took us a while to get back on our feet after the crystal bombardment, but we’re back now and we’re not going to sit quietly and be treated like animals anymore.”

“Understood, Major,” Hara intoned respectfully before turning over the com to a warrior who told the human pilot where to land.

Hara didn’t wait. He left the room, leading the small group of Percival, Caleb, Harry, Cormac, Roshin, Ronan and the ever-present
Zxerah
guards, heading for the landing site. Others followed, as did the little swarm of bots. History was being made here. Everything seemed to be coalescing around Hara, converging as Caleb had often said it would. Harry was impressed. Both by his uncle’s abilities to predict the future and by the amazing things that were happening every moment. It wasn’t often one got to see world-changing events from a ringside seat.

Two Harrier jets landed outside close together. The rest took off for parts unknown and Hara demanded the Alvian aviators let them go without tracking. By the time his group had made it down to the landing pad, the two humans were out of their jets, standing at attention with helmets under their arms.

Hara headed the group that walked forward to meet the waiting humans.

“Be welcome here,” Hara said formally. “I am Hara. It’s nice to meet you, Major Rollins.” Hara held out his hand in warrior fashion, which wasn’t too far from a human handshake, and the gesture seemed to surprise the major. Nevertheless, he took the offered hand and bots whirred around, preserving the moment for posterity as well as beaming it out to anyone who might want to watch the news live.

“Good to meet you too, Hara. This is my second in command, Captain Darcy,” he introduced the other human.

Hara exchanged a handshake with the second man and stepped slightly back. “If I still commanded First Fleet, then the jokester you heard over your coms first would be my second in command, Percival.” He indicated the smiling and unapologetic ancient at his side who stepped forward to shake hands with the humans. “This is Caleb O’Hara and his nephew, Harry.” Hara seemed intent on the order of introductions, not leaving the lone human or half-human in their group until last on purpose, even though Ronin Prime should probably have been introduced before them.

After everyone in Hara’s party had been introduced, he invited the two men up to the mess hall, leaving several
Zxerah
to guard the aircraft. He gave his word that nobody would examine or tamper with the craft while they were away and the humans agreed after Caleb and Harry offered their own silent reassurances.

Hara reclaimed their table by the window, adding more chairs and rearranging the seating order to accommodate their guests. Food was brought to the newcomers and Harry could see the humans begin to relax, if only marginally.

“I am glad to see not all of your technology was lost to the cataclysm.” Hara turned the conversation toward the newcomers after they had all resumed eating.

“It’s taken us some time to recover and regroup, but we’re not going to sit idly by and allow our people to be captured or imprisoned anymore. That’s what we came to say.” The major nodded as he spoke somewhat forcefully.

“Good. It is long past time my race was called to account for what we have done here.” The major and his friend looked surprised by Hara’s words. “I am truly sorry for what has happened and I must take responsibility for a great deal of it. I chose this world, knowing there was life here. I left instructions for my Brethren to follow and colonize this world while I and my crew enjoyed its bounty. I never intended to bring such destruction to a world I loved so well, but it has happened, and I find myself responsible. Please forgive me.”

The humans looked at each other, seeming not really sure how to respond. Finally, the major spoke into the silence of the hall. It felt like all the gathered Alvians were holding their breath to see how this would play out.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not really sure who you are. We’ve developed a great deal of intelligence on your race. We keep files on the genetic lines our people have come into contact with, and they are extensive. But I don’t seem to recall ever hearing about a Hara.”

“No,” Caleb intoned from a few seats away at the table. “Only
O
’Haras.” He let that sink in before continuing. “Hara here stayed on Earth while his people prepared to flee Alvia Prime in much larger, much slower colony ships. It took them hundreds of years to get here, during which time Hara and his crew at first lived among our ancestors, having children with them, before going into stasis for hundreds of years. Their children multiplied and spread Alvian DNA throughout much of the Earth’s population. My brothers and I are O’Haras—descended from this man right here, Hara. Our ancient ancestor only just awakened from a sleep that lasted centuries.”

The humans looked shocked. “That’s a little hard to believe.” Major Rollins looked from Caleb to Hara and back again.

“Nevertheless, it’s true. Every human with psychic abilities—the vast majority of those who survived the cataclysm—has some amount of Alvian DNA. The scientists released a biological agent soon after they landed and realized there were humans with Alvian DNA. The airborne substance turned on a small snippet of the Alvian DNA code inside all of us. It’s why we stopped aging like humans and now age like they do. Or did you just think it was clean living that kept us all in our prime well into what should be our old age?” Caleb smiled to soften his words.

“It’s a lot to take in,” the major finally admitted. Harry could see he was willing to listen, which was a start.

“Every word of it true, I assure you.” Caleb held one hand over his heart, a symbolism that was not lost on the former marines.

Chapter Fourteen

Harry noticed a winged
Zxerah
making his way through the soldiers, nodding to a few as he went. They seemed to know him, but most were shocked by the giant wings now sticking out very obviously behind his shoulders. The man made a beeline for Ronin Prime. He bent to deliver a whispered message, clearly urgent.

Both Alvians appeared to frown as whatever news the winged man brought was delivered.

“Friends,” Ronin said, drawing attention of all gathered. “Sinclair Prime tells me the Council has cut off the direct feed from the bots. The Alvian populace can no longer see or hear what we are saying, though the recorders continue to function to preserve these events for history.” He paused a moment, waiting for everyone to process his words before going on. “It appears you have disclosed information they did not want known by the general population. Though I am no Oracle, I predict their high-handed action will have grave consequences. Our people do not like to be kept in the dark. If there’s one thing we have retained through all our genetic tinkering, it is our desire for knowledge.”

“There is also an expectation of honesty from our government.” The winged man referred to as Sinclair Prime spoke for all to hear as he stood at the Patriarch’s side. “My friends and colleagues…” He turned to address his words to every soldier in the giant mess hall. More had come in until the large hall was standing room only. Sinclair Prime stood on a chair to address the crowd. “I am sorry I was forced to hide my differences from you for so long. I am still the same man now that you all see the wings I was born with. I am the same man now that I was before when my wings were compressed and hidden within baggy flight suits, when I trained and worked with many of you. I am still the Prime of my genetic line. Not all Sinclairs have wings, but a few of us do, and it is time you knew that and more about what the Council has been doing behind your backs.”

Murmuring broke out among the military men gathered all around. They were clearly interested in what Sinclair Prime had to say.

“I am a warrior, of warrior stock, but I am also a lifelong member of the
Zxerah
Brotherhood,” Sinclair Prime went on. “We are the ghost squad you have heard whispers of. We were the Council’s assassins for too long. We will no longer serve the Council in secret. Instead, we declare ourselves to the population at large. We reveal our presence and the experiments that have been done to us and those we have done to ourselves—which includes counting humans among our number—and we serve the Alvian people. For too long, I thought I was serving our race as a whole by serving the Council, but when the Council sent my mentor, Sinclair Prime Past, on a secret mission to assassinate Chief Engineer Davin, I began to question their intentions. Now, by cutting off the bots that would reveal the truth to all Alvians, I believe they have shown themselves to be acting not in our people’s best interest, but in their own best interest.”