“This is one of the Aicirtap. They were pleasant and peaceful and friends with every alien race you’ve seen so far and many you haven’t. Until they were uplifted by our enemies, the Z’porrah, and turned into killing machines. They eat their victims. Alive. And every alien whose picture you just saw, along with everyone on Earth, they now consider their food.”
New images came on now. War scenes. Horrible war scenes. Scorched and destroyed earth, any buildings in rubble, half-eaten bodies strewn about, blood everywhere. But no dead Aicirtap. Dead other beings, and lots of them, but no Aicirtap bodies.
“Some of the alien races on the Faradawn and Jewel of the Sky ships have no homes anymore. They’re the last of their races. Some still have home planets they can’t reach or fear for. Every alien race that’s about to land here considers themselves refugees of some kind.”
The Q’vox were possibly the worst, because they were so huge and looked so mighty. And they were so horrifically dead, faces, if there were faces left, twisted in terrible agony. Like our people would be dead if we didn’t get it together.
“Now, it’s up to all of you. Do we offer safe haven to these people who have nothing left and nowhere else to go? Or do we turn them away, like we’ve all done to our own people, our own race, time and time again? Do we let the Aicirtap come destroy us and the people who’ve come to us for protection? Do we keep on squabbling with each other until the Aicirtap arrive and eat us? Or do we act like the warlord, or possibly, like something better, the something better we can be, and protect our world and those who’ve come to us for help?”
Stopped speaking and waited. To see what our world was going to pick.
CHAPTER 65
A MAN IN THE AUDIENCE stood up. He was old and I was pretty sure he was an ayatollah. “Who is their God?” He pointed at the screen. “Who do they follow?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Do they fight a holy war?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Are the others their enemies?”
“At one time they were all friends. And I ask again—why does it matter?”
He and I looked at each other. Another stare-down. Lucky me. Wasn’t confident with someone like this—had to bet he’d won a lot of stare-downs in his day. And there was no way in the world I was intimidating him.
Could see the teleprompter in my peripheral vision. Pictures of what the Aicirtap had done were flashing by. Wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough.
Finally, he nodded. “They will eat us regardless of the God we worship, or the God they worship. Even if it is the same God.”
“Yes.”
“Who will lead?”
Oh, fantastic, another question likely to start the arguments up all over again. Couldn’t give the same response, though, because it definitely mattered.
The picture on my teleprompter changed, to a picture of me and Jeff. Winced inside. I was on a Harley and Jeff was leaning out of a helicopter to pull me off. In other words, it was the scene I knew had broadcast to the world, the scene that pretty much ensured that Hollywood wanted to make Code Name: First Lady. Had no idea what Serene was thinking.
“Have lost control of the feeds,” she said urgently. “I’m not sure who—”
“They will.” The voice that interrupted Serene wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t from someone in the room. It was from someone in the Heads of State room. Hadn’t remembered the audio feed was two-way. The voice was also familiar.
And so was the person who stood up. “I am Gustav Drax, Prince of the planet Vatusus, youngest in the line of our monarchy that has lasted for ten thousand years and will last for ten thousand more. I have met most of you. In this fight there can be only one leader. And it must be the leader who has already successfully repelled the strongest force in the galaxy from this part of the galaxy not once, but twice.”
Drax had his hair pulled back into a high ponytail, showing the organic metal plates in his head. The lights in them were blinking. So he’d used the natural Vata ability to mentally join with electronics to take over the feed. Not a surprise, really. For all I knew, what ACE had done was give the suggestion via subtle means to the Vata here on Earth to control and prevent the nuclear launches worldwide. I hadn’t thought of asking them, either, but maybe Jeff or Chuckie or someone else had.
Of course, if Drax was here, who was flying his ship? And, the other question was, where was his ship parked? In the U.S. or somewhere here in the region?
“They did not work alone,” someone in that room pointed out.
“No,” Drax agreed. “They did not. However, they led, and it was their leadership that ensured victory. I have heard from my father, the King of Vatusus. The Z’porrah fleet is on the move, traveling toward Tau Ceti, Sirius, Yggethnia, Alpha Centauri, and Earth. Spies are certain the Z’porrah plan to overtake this part of the galaxy by force, using the Aicirtap as their shock troops.”
This created a lot of panic in both rooms. Heaved a sigh. “SHUT UP!” My bellow was getting better, practice making perfect and all that. Butler’s was as well and he had to bellow in a variety of languages. He was the android for the job, though. The rooms quieted. “Gustav, you again have the floor.”
“Thank you, My Queen Regent.” Uh oh. Here it came. “Some of you stare at that title, and some of you have already heard it. Because of who the President of the United States is, he and his wife, the First Lady, are considered the King and Queen Regent of Earth by the Alpha Centauri Empire. That makes Earth a part of that empire. And for that, more than anything else, you should be grateful.”
“Why?” the old ayatollah, who was still standing, asked.
“Because this fight cannot be fought alone. And the Vatusan fleet will not come at the request of some mere elected official, or a petty king of a small land. And in comparison to Vatusus, all your lands are small.” Drax got a lot of sneering contempt into those words.
“Why will they come?” the old ayatollah asked.
“They will come if another world leader they respect requests it. And my father respects only two on this world.” Another picture of me and Jeff, this one a little more professional, taken at Jeff’s inauguration party, popped onscreen.
Drax waited for a few long, theatrical moments. Really, he was impressive when he wasn’t trying to be sneaky. “Choose your allegiance. You align with them, you join Centaurion Division as one cohesive fighting force, and I can promise that Vatusus will rally their forces, and the forces of other allies in our part of the galaxy, and they will come and intercept the Z’porrah and drive them away. If you choose your usual human ways, Vatusus will wash their hands of Earth and never offer assistance again. So say I, Prince Gustav of the Vata, for my father, King Varian the Twentieth of Vatusus.”
Drax nodded, then sat down.
“I have control again,” Serene said in my ear. “No idea what picture to put up, if any.”
The old ayatollah was still standing. Looked at him. He was acting as the Voice of the Crowd, meaning whatever he did or said next was probably going to be what the majority agreed with.