“Not saints, but clearly humanity’s natural ally. Our natural friend. A fellow wolf species who was once like we are now. But who managed to conquer their natures and go on to better things, without the need for any sheep species to intervene.
“They’ve been mentoring our group. And once we defeat the Federation, they can reveal themselves to all of us and mentor the entire human race. Bring us together. Instead of turning us into their puppets, they’ll teach us how to tame our destructive impulses, the demons of our nature, as they learned to do. And they’ll provide the science and technology that will create a paradise on Earth.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And beyond.”
I pondered this, but didn’t respond.
“Think about it,” continued Nick. “The Federation makes sure we stay at each other’s throats—and then pretends to be bloody heroes by saving us from ourselves. They could unite us. All they’d have to do is announce themselves. We’d be too in awe of the grand scope of intelligence in our galaxy not to be motivated to mend our fences. And they could tell us of the glorious future they can provide if we turn our swords into plowshares.”
He shook his head. “But human unity is the last thing they want. They need us agitated. They need us to retain our savage natures, not lose them. So we’ll be that much more effective at wiping out the Benefactors.”
I stared deep into his eyes, absorbing everything, but I remained silent.
“And speaking again of the Benefactors,” continued the captain, “notice how willing they’ve been to share technology with my group. Including medical technology. I’m sure Nari went to great lengths to tell you about their Prime Directive. They give Brad and his team as little technology as they can manage, along with plenty of excuses why they can’t give them more. They tell Brad we’ll self-destruct faster. We aren’t mature enough to handle it. And other nonsense.
“Well, my group—still led by Kenneth Kussmann—has been handling it for decades. And the entire world could too.
“Yes, global release of such powerful technology would cause disruption. But so what? The Federation could provide unlimited energy and wealth, eliminate want. Cure cancer and heart disease. Eliminate poverty and starvation. Provide dramatically increased lifespans, with undreamed of quality of life. Save millions of lives.
“Why let us suffer so greatly for so long? The Galactic Federation could have saved hundreds of millions of us from dying horrible deaths. Hell, they were here during World War II. They could have intervened to make sure this war never happened. But they didn’t.”
He paused. “And if they’re so intent on saving us from ourselves, why not give us the key to stasis and interstellar travel so we can spread to the stars? Become a multi-planetary species? Make sure we don’t have all our eggs in one basket? If they did, they’d not only insulate us from self-destruction, but from extinction-level cosmological events.”
I had to admit, he made some great points. Further bolstered by the lies Nari had admitted to telling. And by the Federation factions hell-bent on foiling the Zetas’ plans.
Add in what Tessa had told me in the bunker, and what Nick Nicola—really Jason Barcelo—was telling me now, the case against the Zetas had become overwhelming. Undeniable.
“I don’t blame you if you’re still withholding judgment,” said the captain. “I get that I haven’t shown you the evidence that supports everything I’ve said. But I will. And when I have, you’ll come to the same conclusion we have. That we have to go to war. Now. While we still can.”
“Even if you convince me of that,” I said, knowing that I was all but convinced already, “it still doesn’t mean we have any chance of winning. Their asteroid ship has to be protected a hell of lot better than a deserted island somewhere in the Tasman Sea. And I can’t imagine it doesn’t have offensive capabilities that would boggle the mind.” I shook my head. “It’s a suicide mission.”
Nick smiled. “Actually, you’d have been right last week,” he said. “But not today.”
“What changed?”
“You did,” he replied emphatically. “The Federation’s AI says you’re pivotal. And it’s turning out that you are. Pivotal all around. To the Zetas for reasons unknown. And pivotal to us also. But in our case for reasons that have become very clear, and very actionable.”
“One man can’t possibly have any impact on an outcome this inevitable. What do you think I can do?”
“More than you know. Because you’re still Nari’s golden boy. Neither he nor Brad have any idea that you aren’t still loyal to the Federation. They trust you implicitly, and you have access to their inner sanctum. We can make that work to turn the tide.”
My eyes widened. He might be right. Nari didn’t know I had confronted Tessa about her being born off-planet. He didn’t know that she had told me about the Zetas’ true intentions. Once Michelle’s attack had begun, we’d been unable to contact the Federation leader.
Nick had told me earlier that Brad and Tessa were in custody here. So Nari would remain clueless as long as this remained true.
If I could come up with a good enough story to explain how I had survived, Nari would not only trust me, but continue to see me as a queen in his game of galactic chess.
“All right,” I said. “You have me intrigued. So let me see this evidence of yours. Then, assuming it’s solid, you can tell me what it is you want me to do.”
39
I took a long, hot shower, trying not to think about Tessa Barrett and failing miserably. It was best to keep busy, I decided, keep my mind fully occupied, so I didn’t continuously wallow in misery. I tried to fight it off, but I couldn’t. Going from the ecstasy of being madly in love to the nightmare of losing that love in the most horrific way possible, in basically a single day, was even more brutal than one might imagine.