Space Rocks! (19 page)

“He's right,” said Kalac.

“That means they'll need to come down here and get it,” said Hollins. “If they invade, you can at least fight back.”

“How?” cried Loghoz, bursting into tears. “At least we have better weapons than the humans, but how can we possibly fight . . . that?” It pointed to the battle cruiser in despair. The jagged black ship, thick with guns, looked like death incarnate.

“Permission to address the Council?” I said. “Not as a translator, I mean.”

“Oh, great,” said Sheln. “Let's all hear what the littlest hoo-min lover has to say.”

“I think there is a way for us to fight,” I said. What I was about to say next was a risk, but I had no choice. “In the Unclaimed Tunnels, there are ruins—a place we once called Flowing-Stone—and there we found ships—three armed starfighters. I think we can get them up and running.”

Once more the crowd lost control. The idea of actual starfighters existing on Gelo was incredible. It changed everything. Those who had fainted before fainted again. And a few new fights even erupted.

“Ridian doesn't know that we have them,” I yelled over the uproar. “We can surprise him.”

“Our tunnels are defensible,” said Hudka. “We know them like the back of our thol'grazes, but the Vorem will be stumbling around in the dark. With the starfighters—”

“Look, if these starfighters actually exist—which I severely doubt,” said Sheln, “then we should use them to attack the humans!” More booing from the crowd.

“Aha! So you do know how to say the word correctly!” I yelled.

“I meant ‘hoo-mins'! Whatever! Shut up!”

“But speaking of the humans,” said Dyves, its eyes moist, “doesn't Kalac's previous point about fighting a war hold true here too? Even if, by some miracle, we were able to fight off this awful Vorem attack, now they know where to find us. What's to stop them from coming back until they win? What's the use?”

“I'm not so sure that the rest of the Vorem do know where we are,” said Kalac. “Ridian seemed awfully proud of having found Gelo all by himself. Something tells me he hasn't shared the location with others of his kind, lest someone else steal the credit.”

“Hmm,” said Hudka. “If the old stories are true, then the little ships—the triremes—don't have faster-than-light capability. Only the battle cruiser can generate a hyperdrive field. So if we could just take out the battle cruiser quickly enough—its hyperdrive and communications systems, at least—then word would never get back to the ol' Vorem imperator on the other side of the galaxy. The location of Gelo would remain a secret!”

More noise from the crowd, approving now. They were warming to the idea.

“The point is, we have a chance,” I said. And with that, I explained to the gathered crowd the rest of my plan.

When I was done, Kalac addressed the Conclave. “The time has come for us as a people to make a decision,” said Kalac. “Do we give up the Q-sik and hope to be spared, or do we fight the Vorem knowing full well . . . that we may not prevail?”

And so the Xotonian people chose, by a vote of 5,872 to 217, to fight.

“W
hat happened?” asked Nicki as the Conclave began to disperse.

“We're going to war,” I said.

The crowd in the plaza was thinning. All able-bodied adult Xotonians were to report back in one hour to begin training and preparation for the defense of our tunnels. There was much work to do.

“Though it's impossible to know, I believe we've made the right decision,” said Kalac, walking toward us. “Chorkle, I want to thank you and Hollins for speaking up.”

“You're welcome,” I said.

“You know, I think one day you'll be a better Chief of the Council than I am,” said Kalac. I was shocked. Kalac thought I was capable of leading the Xotonian people?

“But right now, we have our work cut out for us,” said Kalac. “I can't believe we actually have starships—a secret you should not have kept from me, by the way. But I'm not so sure how we'll use them. It's been many ages since the time of Jalasu Jhuk. None of us knows how to fly the things.”

“No,” I said, “but they do.” I pointed to the young humans.

“Are you sure that they want to help us?” asked Kalac. “They'd be risking their lives, and, honestly, we haven't done much to earn their goodwill.”

I sighed. Kalac spoke the truth.

“I can ask,” I said. And I did.

“Chorkle, speaking for myself, I just want to go home,” said Nicki. “Our parents are going to be here so soon.”

“Not soon enough,” said Hollins. “If Ridian keeps his word, the Vorem invasion of Gelo will already be underway by the time they return. The Vorem will attack here, and then they'll move on to Earth.”

“But . . . we're just kids,” said Nicki.

“Yeah,” said Hollins. “And right now we're also the best chance the human race—and the Xotonian race—have got. ‘Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.' That was T.R.'s motto.” He turned to me. “You can count me in, Chorkle. The Vorem need to be stopped.”

“I'm in too,” said Nicki. “I'm ninety percent sure I can bring those ships back online but . . . I'm no great pilot. I don't think I can fly a starfighter.”

“Each ship will need a gunner too,” I said. “And nobody is better than you at shooting down alien spaceships.”

“Chorkle, Xenostryfe III is a video game!” she said.

“Exactly,” I said. “Reality won't stand a chance.”

Nicki sighed and then nodded.

“Well, I, for one, am an excellent pilot,” said Little Gus, attempting to balance Hudka's cane on his outstretched finger as Hudka struggled in vain to get it back. “I'd be happy to fly a super dangerous and technically difficult combat mission.”

Immediately, I thought back to Little Gus wedging his rocket-bike between the two boulders of Jehe Canyon, his 22 percent pilot test score, his uncanny ability to shoot his own teammates in Xenostryfe III.

I said, “Well, maybe you, er—”

“Gus . . . I can't let you go into a war,” Hollins said, placing a hand on Little Gus's shoulder.

“What?” cried Little Gus, shrugging off Hollins's hand. “What are you talking about, dude?”

“I'm sorry,” said Hollins. “But you're only ten years old. If you got hurt, your dad and my mom would fight each other to see who gets to kill me first.”

“But you're just thirteen! Nicki's twelve! Are you telling me twelve is somehow the magic space war cutoff age? I want to help!”

“If we're being honest, there's a big chance that this plan won't work. If the worst happens,” said Hollins, “we can't all be aboard those starfighters. At least one of us needs to survive this for the sake of all our parents and the people watching back on Earth. You have to stay back here, where it's safer. I'm sorry.” Little Gus growled and swung Hudka's cane hard, knocking a stone across the plaza. He looked more dejected than I'd ever seen him.

Last was Becky.

“So you want me to fight the Vorem, risk my life to help the Xotonians so that they can turn around and attack the human race again, like Sheln wants,” said Becky. “Yeah, no thanks. This isn't our war.”

“I know you're still angry about the asteroid-quake,” I said. “I would be too. We made a bad decision because we were afraid.”

“Chorkle, you've been kind to me. Helped us all a lot. I consider you a friend,” said Becky. “But as for the rest of your species, I look at them and I see a clannish, small-minded group that lashes out at anyone different from themselves.”

“But don't you get it?” said Nicki. “We acted the same way toward Chorkle at first. You saw how our parents freaked out when—”

“No, she's right,” I said. “At our worst, we do act this way. But I believe we're capable of doing better. And I'm not the only one. Think of Hudka or Linod or the crowd that carried Little Gus through the streets. All I can tell you is that we're not all bad. Nobody is. Not humans. Not Xotonians.”

“Look, Becky,” said Hollins, “like it or not, the Vorem will be here before our parents. If they succeed in conquering Gelo, then it won't matter anyway. We'll be prisoners . . . or worse. I trust the Xotonians a lot more than I trust the Vorem. And as long as we're on this asteroid, our fate is tied to these aliens.”

“Well, maybe the Xotonians should have thought of that before they tried to kill us.”

“Trust me, sis. I don't want to fight either. But they're going to attack Earth next. And unless we can stop them here, they'll have the Q-sik when they do.”

“Well, maybe the Vorem, at least, will have the courage to attack us with it directly.”

I translated her response back into Xotonian for Kalac. Kalac nodded slowly.

“I understand. And if I were her, I don't know if I'd consider the Xotonians worth helping,” said my originator. “But would you please tell her that, whatever she decides to do . . . I'm sorry.”

I did.

Becky paused for a long moment. “Thank you,” she said at last.

“Look,” said Hollins, “I'm about to say something that I am probably going to regret. Something that I probably won't hear the end of for the rest of my life. Words that are going to cause me physical pain to utter.”

He gulped. We all waited.

“Well?” said Becky.

“Becky,” he said, “there's a small chance that . . . by a certain definition . . . you might be . . .” He trailed off.

“Excuse me?”

“C'mon. Please don't make me repeat it.”

Becky waited again.

“Ugh. Okay. You are a better pilot than me. There! Are you happy? You're a better pilot than me. And I don't think we can do this without you.”

“You know,” said Becky, grinning, “I'd already made my mind up to help after Kalac apologized. But thanks for telling me. Good to know.”

“Yes!” I screamed and turned a triple backflip. With Becky and Hollins, we could at least get two of the starfighters in the air.

“Great. Everyone gets to go but me,” said Little Gus, and he threw Hudka's cane hard at the ground.

“Yo, sorry,” he said as he sullenly picked it up and handed it back to my grand-originator.

We were mostly alone in the plaza now. Along with a few stragglers, only Ydar and the large view-screen remained. On it, the battle cruiser still floated ominously, red lights blinking.

“Okay,” said Kalac. “Shall I inform Ridian of our decision?”

“What?” cried Hudka. “Why in the name of Morool would you tell that monster anything?”

“I've learned my lesson,” said Kalac. “I'm not going to start a war without trying to talk first. I need to give Ridian the chance to back down. The stakes are too high.”

“You know . . . you're right,” said Hudka. For the record, it was the only time in my memory when I'd heard Hudka say this phrase to Kalac.

“High Observer Ydar,” said Kalac, “is it possible to contact Ridian from here?”

“Sure, Chief,” said Ydar. “Just give me a moment.” Ydar plugged in the camera and microphone, fiddled with a few settings on the screen, and pounded the side of the screen once for good measure.

“Okay,” said Ydar. “Calling now.”

There was a moment of static. Then the screen showed the armored general. He was scarcely less frightening than his jagged black ship.

“Hello, General Ridian,” said Kalac.

“Greetings, Kalac, Chief of the Council,” said Ridian. “I take it you have decided to give up the Q-sik.”

“We have decided to do no such thing. I'm contacting you to give you the chance to abandon your current course of action. We don't have to fight. I believe we can have peace.”

“Indeed, it will be most peaceful when all of you are dead. Shall I arm my nuclear missiles and destroy you?” His hands danced across the instrument panel in front of him.

“Perhaps you can do that, but I don't think that you will. I think you want the Q-sik too badly to destroy it. So I guess you'll have to come down here and get it.”

Ridian paused. “You've called my bluff. You are correct. In approximately twenty hours, I will, indeed, land troops on your asteroid, enter your tunnels, and bring the Q-sik back out.”

“I must warn you that will be no easy feat,” said Kalac.

“Good. To be perfectly honest, I hoped you wouldn't give it up without a fight,” laughed Ridian. “There is more glory in an invasion. My son will be leading it, you know. It will give him his first taste of battle, of true command. An opportunity to prove whether he is weak or strong.”

“All the more reason to call this whole thing off,” said Kalac. “No reason for you to risk your son's life. Or to endanger the life of my own offspring. All of our offspring.”

“I disagree. We have a saying on Voryx Prime: My triumph is your blood.”

“I wish you'd reconsider, Ridian. I believe the universe is big enough for Vorem and Xotonian and human too.”

“Wrong,” said Ridian. “There is only one universe. It belongs to us.” And the screen went dark.

“Nice guy,” said Hudka. “We should consider inviting him over for the next Feast of Zhavend.”

“We don't have much time now,” said Kalac. “We need to get our defenses in order and try to bring those starfighters online.”

“Eromu!” Kalac called out, seeing the guard on its usk-lizard across the plaza.

Eromu trotted closer. “Yes, Chief of Council?” It eyed the young humans, especially Hollins—who had once held it at blaster-point—with suspicion.

“Bring more usk-lizards from the guardhouse stables. We need to get to the ruins of Flowing-Stone, fast.”

“Very well, Chief,” said Eromu, and it galloped off.

“Tell the human children to ready themselves,” said Kalac to me.

“Before we go,” I said to Kalac, “there's one more thing we need.” And I pointed to the Vault.