Defenders (16 page)

Suzanne Ramos, one of the technicians he’d gotten to know a bit, noticed Oliver and smiled. “Hey, the starfish whisperer.”

Oliver had a thing for Suzanne, but she’d never know it. He was utterly incapable of flirting, and usually didn’t know when a woman was flirting with him. He never would have known Vanessa was interested, if his late sister hadn’t told him.

“Hi, Suzanne. What’s the latest? In—” He stepped closer and examined the topography she was working on. “Southwest Africa?”

Suzanne leaned back in her chair. She was petite, her eyes bright. “There’s no defender presence there yet. We’re trying to assess what sort of Luyten presence there is. I still miss high-def satellite imagery; we’re working with these little butterfly cameras that give you grainy images, plus the Luyten have a habit of routinely frying them to ash.”

“What about in our backyard? Any progress since yesterday?”

“I-95 is clear from here to Baltimore. There’s a lot of activity between Wilmington and Philly. We’re guessing the defenders are trying to create a supply corridor from D.C. to New York.”

Oliver couldn’t help grinning. “That’s just wonderful. It’s hard to imagine, being able to walk from here to New York.”

Suzanne leaned her head back until she was looking at Oliver upside down. “Even if there were no starfish, it’s hard to imagine being able to walk from D.C. to New York.”

“True,” he said, wishing he had a witty comeback. One would come to him tonight, while he was watching a video or something.

“Here,” Suzanne said, calling up a map of the area, divided into a green and red grid. Green squares indicated defender- or human-controlled territory; red squares, Luytencontrolled. There was still an awful lot of red—to the west, between D.C. and Richmond, covering the entire Delaware peninsula—but the green area was growing.

Large-scale battles between the Luyten and defenders were rare. Soon after the bloody battles to defend the production facilities, the Luyten went back to their net configuration—three Luyten defending territories of five to ten square miles. After retaking most of the strategically important facilities from the Luyten, such as power plants, factories, and mines, the defenders were now forced to locate and kill millions of Luyten, three at a time. Meanwhile, the Luyten had resumed their early strategy of sabotage and raids on vulnerable human populations.

“Thanks, Suzanne. Sorry to interrupt your work.”

“Not a problem,” she said, restoring the map of southwest Africa.

Back in the hallway, Oliver passed the room housing Five’s holding cell. He hadn’t been there in two months. There was little point, if Five wouldn’t talk to him. He decided to pay Five a visit.

Five was facing the back of his cell. Oliver took a seat and watched Five do nothing for a while.

“When it looked like humans were on the verge of being wiped out, I still spoke to you. I didn’t blame you, personally, for it.”

When the reply came, it startled Oliver, because he wasn’t expecting it.
You spoke to me because you hoped I could provide you an advantage.

“It wasn’t quite that simple, was it? There was more than one reason.”

As usual you give yourself credit for being more complex and inscrutable than you are.

Oliver let it go, not wanting to goad Five into once again hurling the ugliest contents of Oliver’s own mind back at him to prove a point. “If my kind win, I won’t take pleasure in your defeat.” And every day it seemed more likely that they would win. The tide was turning.

Yes, you will. You take great pleasure in dominating and debasing other species. It’s what your kind does best.

“
I
don’t. I wish we could live in peace. I honestly do.”

No, you honestly don’t.

Oliver sighed, then closed his eyes. Five would never allow that what he
thought
—actively, consciously—should be given more weight than what the baser, more primitive, less controllable parts of his mind felt. Yes, he hated the Luyten, and hoped to see them rendered extinct as a species, but he didn’t
want
to hope that.

Yes, you do. You want to believe you’re conflicted, because it makes you feel better. There’s no conflict inside you. Your primitive side and your conscious side feel the same elation at the prospect of our extinction.

“So I have nothing redeeming in my heart or mind. I’m just one big hate pie.”

You don’t want me, personally, to die, if that makes you feel more virtuous.

“No, I don’t want you to die,” Oliver agreed. “And no, it doesn’t make me feel more virtuous.”

Yes, it does.

Laughing at the hopeless absurdity of trying to interact with Five, Oliver stood. He was already tired of this game.

Do you know why we arrived here so unprepared for war?

“You arrived unprepared? You seemed awfully prepared to me.”

If we’d been prepared, you would have lost long ago. Our weapons are adaptations of civilian technologies we brought with us, for heat and power generation. We brought no weapons because we came as settlers, not conquerors.

“You adapted to your new role quickly. And brutally.”

We’re more deserving of existence than you. More will be lost if we’re gone.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit narcissistic?”

No.
Evidently Luyten didn’t possess ugly qualities like narcissism or bigotry. They were perfect, enlightened killing machines.

We have many flaws. Understanding them is beyond you.

“Of course it is.” He should have left well enough alone. Now Five would probably yammer in his head all day, distracting him from his work, feeding him false information about Luyten brain function the way he’d fed him false information about Vanessa. “You can do so many things I can’t, Five. But I can do something you can’t. I can leave.” Oliver spun and headed for the door.

We want you to speak with President Wood on our behalf.

Oliver paused, but didn’t turn around. “About what?”

Conditions for surrender.

Oliver’s heart began to thump, slow and hard. “Is this more psychological warfare? Are you just setting me up to look like an ass.”

There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?

Never a direct answer. “Do you have the authority to negotiate this?”

I won’t be negotiating. I’m in contact with those who make the decisions.

“You’re in contact with them right now?”

Shall I tell them you said hello?

It could be nothing but a big
screw you
Five was orchestrating, but he had to take it seriously. “I’ll contact the president.”

“He’s in a lunch meeting with Secretary of Defense Oteri in the West Wing,” Five said.

“Silly me,” Oliver said as he left Five’s room. He continued as he hurried down the empty hall. “I was on my way to his chief of staff to request a meeting. With your helpful information, now I can barge straight in and interrupt the president of the United States. Unless the Secret Service agents stationed outside his dining room disapprove, of course.”

Oliver hurried toward Chief of Staff Reinman’s office.

Oliver glanced around the Oval Office, took in the burgundy drapes, the ornate woodwork over the doors and on the crown molding, but it was difficult to appreciate where he was, because of what was about to happen. If it actually happened, this might be the most important event in human history, and Oliver was right in the middle of it.

“I’m not sure why I’m here,” he said to Five. “Can’t you speak directly to the president?”

I can, but I don’t want to. You’re the only human who wants at least one Luyten to live. You’re the closest thing we have to an advocate.

Five was in his cage, which had been transported from CIA headquarters to the White House via a closed underground rail system Oliver hadn’t known existed. The triptych of windows behind the president’s desk had swung open to allow Five to be rolled right into the Oval Office. Oliver wondered if the windows had always opened like that, or if the president’s people had installed it in case there was ever a need to meet with Luyten. Whatever the case, they’d gone through a great deal of trouble so Five could come to the president, rather than vice versa. Evidently it was crucial to keep up appearances, even if your opponent knew all of your effort was simply for appearance.

The president’s private door swung open. Wood entered, followed by Secretary of State Nielsen and Secretary of Defense Oteri. Oliver stood, and to his surprise, so did Five.

As they shook hands, the president winked at Oliver, then clapped him on the shoulder. Oliver’s throat tightened with pride at the private attaboy. He swallowed, trying to banish the emotion, which was extremely premature. It was yet to be seen if he’d accomplished anything.

The president turned to face Five. “I understand you wish to discuss terms for surrender?”

Tell him he’s correct.

Relief washed over Oliver as he repeated Five’s words.

“What terms are you requesting?” Wood asked.

President Wood has been authorized by the premier to accept our surrender if we’ll agree to incarceration in an internment camp. We see this as the best terms we will be able to negotiate given our circumstance, so we would, theoretically, accept them.

Everyone in the room jolted visibly, as Five finished his thought aloud: “The problem is, once we enter the camps, we will be killed.”

It took Wood a moment to regain his composure. He’d seen the recordings of Five speaking aloud on Easter Island, but no doubt hearing it live was another matter entirely. “No you wouldn’t,” he said, still facing Five. “If we sign an agreement in good faith, we’ll honor it.”

“Your intention is to honor it,” Five said. “The premier is less certain. Others are certain you should exterminate us.”

“Others such as who?” Wood asked.

“Such as your secretary of defense.”

Scowling, Wood turned to Oteri. “Is this true?”

Oteri nodded tightly. “Yes, sir. That would be my counsel.”

Wood moved a half step closer, pointed at Oteri’s nose. “Another half billion people will die before this war is over. If we can save a half billion innocent lives by commuting a death sentence to life in prison, we’ll take that deal every time. Erase any thoughts of going back on our word once we make an agreement. Wipe them out of your fucking mind right now.”

He turned back to Five. “Is my secretary now on board with this agreement?”

“Yes. It may prove more of a challenge to convince other world leaders, including the premier.”

“I’m supposed to convince
all
of them?”

“Ninety percent will do.”

Wood grunted. “Only ninety percent.”

Oliver couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Somehow he’d imagined they would strike a deal then and there. It was a step in the right direction, though.

Don’t flatter yourself. There are dozens of these meetings being held.

Right now? He thought it, rather than speaking it aloud.

Now, or soon, or they were recently completed. The other meetings were conducted without the drama of face-to-face interactions. Leaders within range were contacted telepathically.

How are the meetings going? Oliver thought.

Mixed.
That was all Five would say on that, or any other topic. He fell back into silence as he was wheeled out of the Oval Office, onto the front lawn of the White House.

Everyone would remember where they were when it happened. Oliver was tossing a football with Kai in their backyard. It was two hours before the news would go public. His comm alerted him to an incoming call from President Wood, indicating that full security was required to take the call.

“Holy crap.” Oliver dropped the football. “I have to take this.” He activated his phone’s security protocol.

“Oliver.” The president stretched his name into three syllables, as if relishing the sound of it. “I have news.”

“Good news?”

“The best news.”

Oliver let out a whoop. “It’s over? Please tell me it’s over.” Kai had come over to stand close to him.

“The terms of surrender were signed ninety minutes ago. If you want to call what the starfish do with a pen ‘signing.’ More like doodling.”

“Oh my God. I can’t tell you.” He fumbled for words, his throat tight with emotion. “Thank you for calling me personally, Mr. President.”

“Are you kidding? I should be driving over to give you a hug. You were an important part of this victory. I won’t forget it. When everything settles down I want to talk about a position.”

“Yes, sir.” Oliver thought he might cry. He took a few deep breaths, tried to keep his emotions from overwhelming him. It was over, the war was over. Things would return to normal.

“Can you be here in an hour? I want to meet with my top advisors. There are things to be worked out.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Kai stood looking at him, waiting expectantly.

“It’s over. The war is over.” And although he felt awkward doing it, Oliver gave Kai a hug.

He had to tell someone. An adult—someone he could absolutely trust. He was busting with the news. He had a few close friends, most of them back in St. Cloud, where he’d grown up. He could trust every one of them, but none seemed quite right.

Then he thought of Vanessa.

“I need to make a call; I’ll be back in a minute.” He went inside.

She answered, but didn’t say hello, didn’t say anything.

“Hi,” he said.

“What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to share something I just heard.”

“Oh? What’s that?” She was clearly trying to control the tinge of anger in her voice.

“President Wood just called me.” He took a deep breath, wanting to relish the moment, relish the words. “The war is over. The Luyten have surrendered.”