“We will have the rest of our system on alert and ready to fight,” Alexander said. The rest of the Planetary Council nodded. “Our ships can arrive quickly so we can hold them until such time as Earth is prepared for support to arrive.”
“And that is why I like to work with all of you.”
“However, you can’t leave the Alpha Centauri system unguarded,” Chuckie said. “Because the Z’porrah could easily make a detour and take over your system if all of your fighting forces are here, protecting Earth against the Aicirtap.” He jerked. “Oh. Oh no.”
He and I looked at each other. “Crap. That’s exactly what they’re going to do, isn’t it?”
“It’s a sound strategy,” Uncle Mort said. “Meaning that we can’t actually have the backup just discussed. The Z’porrah taking over the Alpha Centauri system is no more desirable than them taking over ours.”
Looked at Wruck and the Turleens. “We need a rundown on all the races that are coming. Full workups, starting with what they look like, what they eat and drink, how they reproduce, what their political structure is, who they like and who they hate in the Greater Galactic Community, and anything else you can think of, specifically which of them can and are willing to fight, and how they do so. John, I don’t care if your data is out of date—it’s still more than any of us on Earth have.”
“Translated into every language we can,” Chuckie added. “Because we’ll need to advise the other world leaders of what’s going on and they’ll need the same information.”
“We can do that,” Dew said. “We have a star manual that already has most of this information in it.”
“There is one issue,” Muddy said. “As soon as the Themnir land they will request to meet with you. And you will not be together.”
“Means we can meet more of them as opposed to less of them, because we know they’re not all going to land in the same place. We call that a win-win. And before you argue that one, Muddy, trust me when I say that I need to get to the Middle East.”
“Will the Themnir have anyone else on their ship?” Chuckie asked Wruck.
“Unlikely.” Wruck sighed. “I’d hoped they wouldn’t be the first ones to arrive.”
That got the room’s attention. “Why?” Jeff asked, Commander in Chief Voice on Full.
“Not for any bad reason,” Wruck said. “Only . . . to humans . . . well . . .” He looked at the Turleens for confirmation.
Muddy nodded. “I agree, but hopefully they can adapt.”
“Well what?” I asked. “And adapt to what, whom, or how?”
Wruck heaved a sigh. “To humans the Themnir will look like giant slugs.”
CHAPTER 48
LET THAT ONE SIT on the air for a bit. “Excuse me?” I asked finally.
“Humanoid slugs with limbs,” Wruck confirmed.
Couldn’t stop myself, I had to ask. “Squishy limbs?”
“Slimy, too,” Muddy said. “They are a very peaceful race dedicated to the arts.”
“Oh. Good.” Risked a look around the room. Sure enough, every human and Earth A-C now looked shocked-to-horrified. We were really batting a thousand on the shockeroonies tonight. “Um, yeah, John. I get why you were hoping they wouldn’t be the first to arrive.”
“The Faradawn resemble willow trees and similar and are quite a lovely race, but the Themnir are very decent people,” Wruck said, sounding like he was about to try to start selling us on why our cousins should consider the Themnirs’ great personalities and overlook that they weren’t pretty on the blind date he was setting them up on.
“I’m sure that we’ll manage to treat them as we treat all races we’ve met,” Jeff said, clearly in agreement that our cousins should marry the nice Themnirs instead of pinning their hopes on the pretty but flighty tree people.
“Well, the giant walking honeybees are coming, too, right? That’s what the Lyssara are, correct?” Risked another look. Apparently honeybees were right up there with slugs in terms of what our assembled folks wanted to get up close and personal with.
“Yes,” Wruck admitted.
“I’m sure they’re great, too,” I said quickly, before he could try to fix up those dead set against dating a giant slug with a giant bee person as their alternative. “The Planetary Council has been met with what I’d be willing to call casual acceptance. I’m sure these others will be, as well.”
“I wouldn’t say that, necessarily,” Alexander said carefully.
“It’s easier for us, we look like giant cats,” Felicia the Feliniad said.
“And giant dogs,” Wahoa the Canus Majorian added.
“And we Iguanadons are like your lizards,” Jareen the Reptilian said. “The Shantanu are penguins and King Benny is an otter, two animals I’ve come to understand humans find completely adorable. Lakin is a Hawkman and so might be considered attractive by humanity. However, not everyone on this planet thinks lizards are great. Trust me when I say that I’ve had my share of people looking at me and then running away.”
“Okay! So sometimes it takes humanity a while to warm up to people who look different from us. But overall, we’ve managed it.”
“With limited exposure and success,” Queen Renata of the Less Pissed Off Daily Amazons said. “I am quite happy that my daughters and I are able to shapeshift into what humans find acceptable.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mom said. She said it in a way I was used to—her “I’m done listening to you whine, you will do what I said and you will do it now” voice. I’d heard this voice a lot growing up, and it was a voice you did not argue with.
Showing their intelligence, the Planetary Council subsided.
Mom glared at the room. “In a few hours humanity is going to be reminded, once again, that we’re not alone in the galaxy. Despite having been attacked by hostile aliens and subsequently saved by other aliens, having a contingent of visiting aliens on the planet for the past several weeks, and learning that we’ve had aliens living here for decades, most of humanity has chosen to do what they always do when faced with something difficult to comprehend or accept—ignore it.”
Chuckie snorted a laugh. “That’s so damn true.”
Mom shot him a fond smile, then turned back to the rest of the room. “The issue isn’t that we have aliens that look like giant garden pests coming. The issue is that only the people in this room are aware of what’s coming. So, we solve that issue by doing exactly what Kitty said to do—get Congress and the rest of the Washington Political Machine to do some damn work for a change, no offense meant to present company.”
“Oh, none taken,” McMillan said with a laugh that was shared by the rest of Jeff’s Cabinet.