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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

Their Darkest Hour (31 page)

BOOK: Their Darkest Hour
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“In the long term, we expect that the humans will eventually be ground under and reshaped into proper servants of the State,”
Va’tro
Nak’tak said.  “However, we may always have to make allowances for their alien natures.  The State may have to devise new rules for them.”

 

There was a pause.  “The human sexual nature rears its head whenever male and female humans are put together.  It even appears when some humans have a sexual attraction to their own sex, something unknown among us, but very common to the Paklet.  Indeed, some human sects appear to consider females useless for anything other than breeding more humans, even though it is clearly inaccurate.  The Paklet, however, do not have intelligent males.  Their emotional connections are forged with other females.

 

“For humanity, we will need to create new rules.  We have already started segregating humans in our detention camps by sex.  It is quite likely that we will have to rein in our collaborators, if only to prevent us being tarred by the same brush – as the humans would put it...”

 

Tul’ma
Jophuzu snorted.  “We can make concessions to their nature once they have submitted,” he said, flatly.  “We have crushed their defences and raid where we will, yet they do not submit in large numbers.  How do we force them to submit?”

 

“In the long term, they will submit,”
Va’tro
Nak’tak said, flatly.  “We must simply continue to hold our ground and refuse to abandon territory on Earth.  They need to be constantly reminded that all of their attacks have not forced us to withdraw – and that we will never withdraw.  They’ll submit in the long run.”

 

“The longer we wage war on this planet, the greater the chance that one of the other powers will intervene,”
A’tar
Esuxam said.  The Space Forces Commander lifted one clawed hand to stroke his leathery chin.  “We may have claimed this system by right of conquest, but we don’t have the firepower to keep a raiding force out if they wanted to hit us – or the coverage to prevent them slipping help to the humans on the surface.  And if they realise what a treasure trove we’ve found here, they will be very tempted to intervene.”

 

Oheghizh couldn't disagree.  Humanity
was
a treasure trove, even if some of their decisions made little sense to a properly rational race.  Their imaginations suggested all kinds of interesting weapons and tactics – and their computers would go a long way towards evening the balance between the State and several of its peer powers.  Those powers wouldn't hesitate to intervene on Earth if they realised the danger – and the humans would certainly seek to make deals with them if they could.  The enemy of my enemy, they said, is my friend. 

 

“We need to tighten our grip on their planet,”
Tul’ma
Jophuzu said.  “I want all resistance crushed before they have a chance to find help from outside the system.”

 

That, Oheghizh thought in the privacy of his own head, would be easier said than done.  Humanity just didn't respond like a rational race, which raised the question of how they’d ever managed to develop atomic weapons without blowing themselves and their world into radioactive debris.  Some of the observers had seen human claims of alien contact and wondered if someone might have been covertly assisting humanity’s development, but the starships hadn't picked up any signs that anyone else might have visited the system.  But how else could one explain a development that defied all of the understood rules?

 

They’re alien
, he reminded himself. 
They might play by different rules
.

 

***

The Land Force Base near the human city of London was immense.  It had been built on top of a human air force base, once the ground had been swept for hidden surprises, and simply expanded outwards.  Three fences prevented human insurgents from getting into the base itself, while the outer edge was patrolled regularly by elite infantry units.  A series of drones floated high overhead, backed up by attack helicopters and strike fighters.  It should have been impregnable.

 

Tra’tro
The’Stig walked across the human runway and up to the prefabricated building.  Two guards checked his identity before allowing him to proceed, even though no human could have disguised himself to look like an Eridiani.  The very thought was absurd, but the humans were full of nasty surprises.  It was better to be paranoid than dead. 

 

The interior of the building felt pleasantly warm and damp to his skin, a change from the cold breezes outside.  There were parts of Britain where it never seemed to stop raining, but the rain was always cold and uncomfortable.  Even the humans seemed to find it unpleasant, which didn't stop them from using the rain to cover their movements.  The interior was also large enough for him to move freely, without needing to worry about holes torn in human walls or tiny humans lurking in holes too small for an adult Eridiani.  It was definitely better than staying in one of the human buildings that had been adapted for their purposes.  He saw a pair of females and concealed a wry smile.  The seniors were making sure that they were in the right place when the females entered their mating seasons.  If he’d smelt the scent that marked a female in heat, he would have fought any other male – superior or not – who tried to prevent him from mating with her.  Outside mating season, it was a matter of amusement rather than irritation.

 

He stepped into the office and thumped his chest with one hand, claws sheathed. 
Ju’tro
Oheghizh was far superior to his lowly position, which made the summons rather more than a bit worrying.  He hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as he knew, but it wasn't always necessary to screw up before being raked over the coals.  And yet...he had found himself in command of a scratch Assault Unit made from the remains of several other Assault Units that had been ripped apart by the humans.  Had he exceeded his authority badly enough to warrant punishment?

 

The State demanded nothing, but obedience from low-ranking officers and males.  In the privacy of his own head,
Tra’tro
The’Stig wondered if that was the best way to handle fighting a war.  It took time to call for orders from higher authority, time that the humans used to good advantage.  How many human insurgents had escaped death because the KEW bombardments had to be ordered by superior officers, rather than the ones on the ground?  But if he’d vocalised any of those thoughts...the best outcome would be remaining forever frozen at his current rank.  At worst, he would be sent to a punishment unit or a re-education camp.

 

He waited for his superior to speak, as was proper.  “You have served well during the course of the invasion,”
Ju’tro
Oheghizh said.  His superior officer didn't seem angry.  “You fought well and survived the experience.”

 

The’Stig wondered, just for a moment, if he was being mocked.  Yes, he’d survived – and he’d learned never to take anything for granted.  The humans had plenty of skill at concealing IEDs in apparently harmless positions, while they were learning how to hurt unwary Assault Units with simpler weapons and tactics.  Officers fresh from suspension on the starships, assuming that the war was already over because the human cities had been occupied and their militaries hammered from orbit, had been caught by surprise.  Many of them hadn't survived their first encounter with human insurgents.

 

“You are promoted to
U’tra
,”
Ju’tro
Oheghizh said, almost casually.  The’Stig forgot himself and stared at his commanding officer.  He was being jumped up two grades...?  It had to be a mistake.  But then, hadn’t he been serving as an
U’tra
even without the rank?  “You will take command of the reformed Assault Units and commence sweeps for enemy insurgents.  I expect you to find them and destroy them.  Do you understand me?”

 

The’Stig saluted, hastily.  Yes, he understood all right.  The reformed units wouldn't be neat and orderly, certainly not as orderly as a more conventional commander would have expected.  And if he failed in his mission, he could be demoted just as easily.  He almost started to laugh at himself.  Hadn’t he been sure that he could do better, if he’d been in command?  And now he
was
in command.  Failure wasn't an option.

 

“I understand,” he said.  “I will not fail the State.”

 

***

The alien helicopter touched down in the centre of their base and one of his guards half-pushed Alan Beresford towards the hatch.  He scrambled out with as much dignity as he could muster, unable to prevent himself from staring at the massive shuttles and other aircraft scattered over the base.  The alien buildings seemed dauntingly large, as if they’d been put together by designers without a sense of proportion.  He winced at the sound of a jumbo jet coming into land, wondering if it was being piloted by humans or aliens.  It seemed unlikely that aliens could fly a human craft, but they’d have to be insane to allow humans to land on their bases.  9/11 had proved just how much damage a crashing jumbo jet could do.

 

His escort marched him up to one of the alien buildings and into a network of corridors that looked large enough to hold hundreds of aliens at once.  The smell was all around him, a scent that reminded him of mucking out a barn on his grandfather’s estate.  He’d never realised that the aliens smelled before, but then he’d never been in a building that had housed so many of them at one time.  Human buildings probably smelled rank to them too.

 

He shuddered as they pulled him through a door and into an office.  The aliens couldn't have been very happy with the recent riots in London, or the fact that part of the city had become a no-go area for the police.  Their system for controlling the city – and the human population – was breaking down sharply.  God alone knew how they planned to respond.  He looked up at the oversized desk and saw one of the aliens crouching behind it.  They didn't seem to need chairs, unlike humanity.  Or perhaps it was a way to tell him that he wasn't important to them any longer.

 

“Your people have proved most disruptive,” the alien said.  Was it the one he normally dealt with, or was it another one?  There was no way to
easily tell them apart.  “We are not pleased.  We will be launching sweeps to catch human insurgents and we expect you and your people to cooperate fully with us.  Failure to cooperate will have the most disastrous consequences.”

 

Alan didn't need to be a politician to realise that that was a threat.   “I will be honoured to cooperate,” he said, quickly.  “Perhaps if you could outline what you wish us to do...”

 

“We will carry out the sweeps without your assistance,” the alien informed him.  “We wish you to round up a number of humans and their families.  We have a use for them.”

 

“But of course,” Alan said.  There was no point in refusing now.  The aliens would simply kill him and move on to another collaborator.  “Might I enquire as to the purpose you have in mind for them...?”

 

“You will do as you are told,” the alien said, flatly.  “If you are incapable of carrying out your orders, we will find someone who is more capable.”

 

Alan hesitated.  If he started rounding people up without explanation, there would be resistance.  People would start thinking that the aliens intended to
eat
them or something equally stupid, which would naturally provoke more resistance.  And then his police force, already demoralised, would find itself unable to proceed further.  But how could he explain that to the aliens?

 

“I will carry out your orders,” he said, finally.  “I await your command.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Near Dereham

United Kingdom, Day 32

 

Alex lay on her belly and considered the town below her.  The aliens had arrived in force, coming up at Dereham from Norwich and surrounding the town before anyone quite realised that they were there.  Dereham had been ignored by the aliens after the population had been registered, leaving the people to try to get on with their own lives in a world turned upside down, perhaps even to pretend that the world hadn't really changed.  Their delusion, if they’d indulged themselves, had come to an end.  The town was surrounded and the aliens were moving in.

 

“We can't just stay here and do nothing,” Henry hissed.  He was too young – but then, there had been younger soldiers fighting and dying in Afghanistan.  “What are they going to do to the people down there?”

 

Alex shrugged.  The aliens had been alarmingly active over the last few days, sweeping through parts of the countryside without anything that looked like a clear plan of action.  Alex’s best guess was that they were looking for insurgents – the internet noted hundreds of attacks carried out against the aliens – but she wasn’t sure why they had returned to Dereham, or why they hadn't attempted to track her down.  Perhaps they were following a doctrine formed on another world.  Or perhaps they believed that there was a centre of resistance in the town and they intended to destroy it.  There was no way to know.

BOOK: Their Darkest Hour
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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