Gennos
The war was over.
It was hard for Tam Chedran to believe, hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that what had been announced on the holo-news was the truth. Part of him was sure it was a trick – that more Genno would come sweeping down out of the sky at any moment, hungry for the blood of civilians. The streets were still littered with broken bodies from their last attack; crews from the clean-up squads couldn't work fast enough to keep ahead of the constant barrage of landing parties.
No one really knew how the war began – months after landing on earth for the first time, the seemingly friendly aliens had opened fire during a routine diplomatic mission. Other races the World Council was on friendly terms with quickly removed their ambassadors from the planet's surface and stated the problem was an “internal matter”, one in which they couldn't take sides. Out-manned and outgunned, the global military had no choice but to dig in and hope that they could hold push the Gennos back.
It hadn't worked out so well.
Stepping around a particularly large pile of bodies, Tam kept his eyes locked on the distant horizon. A medical ship had gone down not three blocks from his house, and it had been his turn to go out and see if there was anything worth salvaging. It seemed like it was always his turn, but whenever he brought it up mother told him he was being too sensitive – he was a middle child, and had always struggled for attention under the potential brilliance of his older brother and the complete idiocy of his younger. Random selection was the only fair way to determine who would brave the torn streets, his mother said, and it wasn't her fault he had been picked again.
Tam smiled. This time, she'd have to be happy when he got back, have to give him praise for what he'd done. The ship had been right where it was supposed to be and filled to the brim with medical equipment and treatment kits. Others in the neighborhood were too scared to send out searching parties anymore, but Tam's mother was convinced that for them to have any chance of survival, they would have to stand up for themselves – his father had told her as much just before he left to fight the Gennos at one of the central defense hubs. There had been no word from him in two years, but Tam wasn't going to give up hope until a well-dressed military man came calling and told them they had Bul Chedran's body in a bag somewhere. As he rounded the last corner to the house, a dark green van came into view and he broke into a run; he should never have had the thought.
Flying through the front door he threw the sack of kits on the ground and started screaming for his mother. He was the quiet one in the family, the one who didn't speak up, but wasn't about to be ignored or put off – if his father was dead, he wanted to know when and how.
Tam found two well-dressed military men in the living room, standing uncomfortably while his mother and two brothers sat. Rel had his hands clasped in front of him and the stern expression on his face that never seemed to disappear. Even when they were children playing, Tam's older brother never seemed happy. Wen looked despondent, and there were obvious tear-tracks on both of his cheeks. The younger Chedran had always been emotional, and typically Tam took it in stride. Not today.
“Tam,” his mother said gently, rising from the couch. “Please, come and sit down.”
“I got the kits!” He announced triumphantly. Terrible words were about to be spoken, and he wanted at least a moment more of happiness, a second longer to enjoy having done something right.
“That's very good, son,” mother said, smiling, “now come here.”
“No.” It was silly, but going into the room would make whatever the two men had to say real, make it something he could not ignore.
“Son,” the larger of the men said, stepping forward “please. This is important.”
The man's voice reminded him of father's – deep-toned but kind – and he moved before he thought about refusal. Mother pulled him close and then pushed him onto the couch beside her.
“The war is over,” the other man announced, removing his white cap. “A treaty has been reached.”
“Did you come all the way here to tell us that?” Rel's voice was critical. “We saw that on the holo!”
“Listen, you -” the man started forward, but his bigger companion cut him off.
“No, son.” He said. “We just needed a starting point. The war is over, but the Gennos didn't leave without getting something out of us in return. We had no hope of throwing 'em off-planet and they knew it. The other races in our quadrant wanted peace and put pressure on the green-skinned bastards to stop what they were doing, so the Gennos finally agreed but demanded the Council agree to a price.”
“Too high, if you ask me,” the other one chimed in, and the big man shot a dark look at his companion.
“We've been tasked with ensuring the Council complies with its part of the bargain.” Tam could see a bit of his father's face in the man's features. The nose especially was familiar.
“I'm sorry,” he went on, pointing at Tam, “but your middle son is going to have to come with us. All middle children are being given to the Gennos in payment for their cessation of hostilities.”
The world exploded, his mother on her feet screaming while Rel tried to rush the white-suited men only to be firmly pushed back. Wen wept openly, and Tam felt a slow smile creep across his face. They did care, after all.
“Let's go,” he said shortly, moving to stand beside the two men. “My family has things to do. Mother, use the kits wisely.” He looked at his brothers. “Rel, Wen – take care of her for me.”
“Son,” the larger man spoke again, “you're doing the right thing.”
“And you're not,” Tam said sharply, “but that's the price of peace. The war is over. Let's go.”
It was hard for Tam Chedran to believe, hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that what had been announced on the holo-news was the truth. Part of him was sure it was a trick – that more Genno would come sweeping down out of the sky at any moment, hungry for the blood of civilians. The streets were still littered with broken bodies from their last attack; crews from the clean-up squads couldn't work fast enough to keep ahead of the constant barrage of landing parties.
No one really knew how the war began – months after landing on earth for the first time, the seemingly friendly aliens had opened fire during a routine diplomatic mission. Other races the World Council was on friendly terms with quickly removed their ambassadors from the planet's surface and stated the problem was an “internal matter”, one in which they couldn't take sides. Out-manned and outgunned, the global military had no choice but to dig in and hope that they could hold push the Gennos back.
It hadn't worked out so well.
Stepping around a particularly large pile of bodies, Tam kept his eyes locked on the distant horizon. A medical ship had gone down not three blocks from his house, and it had been his turn to go out and see if there was anything worth salvaging. It seemed like it was always his turn, but whenever he brought it up mother told him he was being too sensitive – he was a middle child, and had always struggled for attention under the potential brilliance of his older brother and the complete idiocy of his younger. Random selection was the only fair way to determine who would brave the torn streets, his mother said, and it wasn't her fault he had been picked again.
Tam smiled. This time, she'd have to be happy when he got back, have to give him praise for what he'd done. The ship had been right where it was supposed to be and filled to the brim with medical equipment and treatment kits. Others in the neighborhood were too scared to send out searching parties anymore, but Tam's mother was convinced that for them to have any chance of survival, they would have to stand up for themselves – his father had told her as much just before he left to fight the Gennos at one of the central defense hubs. There had been no word from him in two years, but Tam wasn't going to give up hope until a well-dressed military man came calling and told them they had Bul Chedran's body in a bag somewhere. As he rounded the last corner to the house, a dark green van came into view and he broke into a run; he should never have had the thought.
Flying through the front door he threw the sack of kits on the ground and started screaming for his mother. He was the quiet one in the family, the one who didn't speak up, but wasn't about to be ignored or put off – if his father was dead, he wanted to know when and how.
Tam found two well-dressed military men in the living room, standing uncomfortably while his mother and two brothers sat. Rel had his hands clasped in front of him and the stern expression on his face that never seemed to disappear. Even when they were children playing, Tam's older brother never seemed happy. Wen looked despondent, and there were obvious tear-tracks on both of his cheeks. The younger Chedran had always been emotional, and typically Tam took it in stride. Not today.
“Tam,” his mother said gently, rising from the couch. “Please, come and sit down.”
“I got the kits!” He announced triumphantly. Terrible words were about to be spoken, and he wanted at least a moment more of happiness, a second longer to enjoy having done something right.
“That's very good, son,” mother said, smiling, “now come here.”
“No.” It was silly, but going into the room would make whatever the two men had to say real, make it something he could not ignore.
“Son,” the larger of the men said, stepping forward “please. This is important.”
The man's voice reminded him of father's – deep-toned but kind – and he moved before he thought about refusal. Mother pulled him close and then pushed him onto the couch beside her.
“The war is over,” the other man announced, removing his white cap. “A treaty has been reached.”
“Did you come all the way here to tell us that?” Rel's voice was critical. “We saw that on the holo!”
“Listen, you -” the man started forward, but his bigger companion cut him off.
“No, son.” He said. “We just needed a starting point. The war is over, but the Gennos didn't leave without getting something out of us in return. We had no hope of throwing 'em off-planet and they knew it. The other races in our quadrant wanted peace and put pressure on the green-skinned bastards to stop what they were doing, so the Gennos finally agreed but demanded the Council agree to a price.”
“Too high, if you ask me,” the other one chimed in, and the big man shot a dark look at his companion.
“We've been tasked with ensuring the Council complies with its part of the bargain.” Tam could see a bit of his father's face in the man's features. The nose especially was familiar.
“I'm sorry,” he went on, pointing at Tam, “but your middle son is going to have to come with us. All middle children are being given to the Gennos in payment for their cessation of hostilities.”
The world exploded, his mother on her feet screaming while Rel tried to rush the white-suited men only to be firmly pushed back. Wen wept openly, and Tam felt a slow smile creep across his face. They did care, after all.
“Let's go,” he said shortly, moving to stand beside the two men. “My family has things to do. Mother, use the kits wisely.” He looked at his brothers. “Rel, Wen – take care of her for me.”
“Son,” the larger man spoke again, “you're doing the right thing.”
“And you're not,” Tam said sharply, “but that's the price of peace. The war is over. Let's go.”
- D
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