40
The fecal matter really did hit the air-redistribution system when Kris’s message arrived at the planet.
Within ten minutes of Kris’s message showing up, it was in all the news-distribution media that her squadron could copy. There were also references to something called print media.
Nelly had to look that one up in her archives and was shocked to discover that trees were sacrificed to make paper specifically so that information could be printed on it and sold.
“What a waste of those lovely forests,” she told Kris.
Nelly dug deeper into the media from the locals’ airwaves and found examples of forests being cut and bulldozed. “Why are we even fighting for these people?” Kris’s computer asked. “They’re destroying their own planet.”
Kris sent Nelly to search the ship’s own historical archives of Earth in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. The computer returned much chastened.
“Well, at least it appears to be something that your type can grow out of.”
Most of the new queries aimed at the squadron were more of the maddening same demanding to know who they were and where they were from.
There was even one asking Kris what she used to assure she had a glossy coat.
Kris ignored them all. All except two. One was from the kids. They thanked Kris for answering them and hoped they might meet whoever she was and that she would win the coming fight.
“Children are so innocent,” Penny said.
“Read the other message,” Kris suggested, and handed her friend the one that had come in on a very powerful tight beam.
“How do we know you are what you say you are? How do we know that the other ships are our true enemy?” Penny read aloud.
“Where did this one come from?” Kris asked Nelly.
“It was beamed from a communications satellite. It was on a tight enough beam that we’re pretty sure none of it washed back onto the planet.”
“Can you return a tight beam to catch that satellite?”
“Only at certain times in its orbit. Say, in about seven hours. It’s in a geosynchronous orbit. Sometimes it’s behind the planet. Sometimes it’s right in front of the planet. Twice a day, it’s way out on the side of the planet. We’ll still be outside their moon when we get our next chance to tight beam something to it when it’s out on the edge of the planet.”
“Nelly, get a small summary of what the alien did to the first planet we discovered. Say, five minutes’ worth. Add in a couple of pictures of their trophy room. Send it under the heading of ‘This is what they do.’ Then get a collection of the ships we destroyed, including the first mother ship and one or two of the warships we blew away the last time we visited that wreck. Send it with the heading ‘This is what we do.’ Let’s see how that goes over.”
“I’ve got it ready. I’ll send it as soon as I’m sure it will miss the planet’s general distribution.”
“Thank you, Nelly.”
“So, Kris, do we make contact with only this nation that has the highest tech?” Jack asked.
Kris gave him the “thanks for nothing, husband,” look and reconvened her war council to stew about that question. Both Jacques, Amanda, and Penny were out of their seats before she’d even finished posing Jack’s question.
“No!” “We can’t do that!” and “That is a terrible idea,” seemed to sum up those talking. The others proved less hurried in their need to verbalize but were no less sure that Kris would be making a major mistake.
“I’m glad to see that we have consensus for once,” Kris said. “You can count me in with you.”
“Then why are you sending this message to only one of the many sides?” Amanda demanded.
“Because they have the technology to ask the question and get the answer in private. We’re still well away from them. We’ll toss the mouse into the cat convention and see how they handle it.”
They didn’t have long to wait.
At first, nothing happened. Or at least nothing appeared to happen. Then Nelly started noticing trends.
“Kris, we may have a problem,” she told Kris at supper.
“What problem might we have?” Kris said, as Jack eyed Kris’s collarbone where Nelly rode. A polite, tactful, even pensive computer was turning out to be a bit of a pain at times.
“You remember that one country that could send us a tight-beam question?”
Kris allowed that she did.
“Well, it appears that several senior business executives have canceled meetings and cannot be located. Their legislature has also suddenly recessed, and the president has canceled all appointments and his press offices are not responding to inquiries. Oh, and it is now in the media that their nuclear-weapons carriers, rockets, air vehicles, and submarines, are on a heightened state of alert. This is causing trouble among other atomic powers.”
“I was wondering how the other players were taking this,” Kris said. “Didn’t I read somewhere that this was the kind of thing that happened when one atomic power was about to try for a first strike?”
“Yes, Kris, it’s in the old records from the horrible twentieth century. It looks like they are at risk of something.”
“Just what we need,” Jack said. “Aliens coming down on them and they’re about to have a nice little war tossing atomic weapons around in their own backyard.”
“Not if I can help it,” Kris said, decision made. “Nelly, broadcast to all the planet on a broad beam the report that we sent to that one nation. Back it up with a report on the first ship that attacked us, a more thorough report on the raped planet we found, and more visuals of us destroying the two alien mother ships. Include shots of our fight with the three alien warships at the hulk and the one I fought when we rescued the Hornet. Have I missed anything, Jack?”
“I take it you want to avoid the huge battles and us getting our butts kicked.”
“Yes.”
“You know this is going to cause panic on that planet.”
Kris nodded through a scowl. “I suspect there will be a lot of hasty exits from the large urban areas. I don’t see how we avoid it if we don’t want them to get themselves into their own out-of-control war. A war with atomics, for Christ’s sake.”
“The other two major powers have gone to alert,” Nelly reported. “They are surging their atomic-armed submarines out to sea and launching their air vehicles. Some of their missiles that have to be fueled before launch are being very ostentatiously pumped full of rocket fuel and oxidizers. Messages are being sent both in the clear and with visuals.”
“Then we’d better get our message out right now. Nelly, send out the main message. But I want to talk to the kids. See if you can get them on the radio.”
“Both messages are set. Kris, I’m trying to raise Zeth. His name is longer and means Prancing Hunter. Frodin’s name is also much longer and means Loud Howler, but the kids go by the shortened names. Maybe they have to grow into the longer name.”
“You can translate for me.”
“With 99.99 percent accuracy. My children and I are refining our dictionaries by the minute as we get more data. Oh, here are the two kids, Kris.”
The voices seemed both surprised and maybe a bit scared. “Are you really calling us?” Nelly translated.
“Yes, Zeth and Frodin. I wanted to talk to you. We are sending out a longer message to your planet, telling them about the other aliens coming from the other side of your sun and about to attack you. We will defend you, and we expect to succeed in destroying that attack. However, one of your nations contacted us and is now responding to what we said in a way that is upsetting its neighbors. Your world seems on the edge of war.”
Kris waited while the message went out and the answer returned.
“It’s always on the edge of war,” Frodin said. “My dad thinks we all ought to just chill out and take a nap. My mother says we have to protect the pride. Dad says it’s a guy-gal sort of thing, and things would be a lot more peaceful if the gals would just let the guys run things. Ouch.”
“You guys would just sleep while the herds stampeded through the pride lands.”
“Well,” Kris said, carefully interrupting what, no doubt, was a never-ending debate on roles and priorities, “it would be a shame for nations to destroy themselves just when they are about to be attacked by aliens, now wouldn’t it? Doesn’t the pride face out together when something strange moves into their territory?”
The chatter ended, and, “Always,” came in two-part harmony. Kris had guessed that one right. They paused for her reply.
“What I want you to do is try to let everyone know that you should be alert to the coming attack from the sky and that you are not alone. We will do everything we can to defend you.”
“Can you?” was a while in coming, but only for the speed-of-light delay.
“We’ve beaten them like a drum every time we’ve met. These are the survivors of the first pride that attacked. We beat them once and sent them off with their tails between their legs. We will beat them again.”
“We’ve been recording this message,” Frodin said. “Is that okay with you?”
“I was hoping you would. I want everyone to hear this. I’m also sending on an open channel a report on our experiences fighting these aliens. I hope your commanders will look at it and that it will help them plot their own defense.”
“The pride doesn’t defend, we attack,” Zeth said proudly.
“You might want to be careful attacking these guys the first time,” Kris said. “They have wiped all life from a lot of planets.”
“Wiped out all life?” was one part shock, one part awe.
“That is what they like to do. I will show your leaders these aliens’ trophy room if they ask after they examine the report I’m sending.”
“And you want us to get this message out?” Zeth said.
“As quickly as you can.”
“We’d better be going then. We met a reporter. She’s nice and a really sharp hunter for stories. She says you have to get the story in before a deadline, or you lose it.”
“You go talk to her,” Kris said, and ended the strangest interview she’d ever given, either as the Prime Minister’s brat or that damn Longknife princess.