The Friendly Ambassador: The Beginning of the End
Chapter One
Diplomatic Relations
The Embassy was in a quiet, residential part of the city, not far from the Edenite Ring Network Portal. It was built on a slight hill, and the best view of the distant and busy centre of the city could be seen from the window of the Ambassador’s office.
Jutlam City was a beautiful city, a modern city built in a time of understanding, when ecology and economy strode hand in hand. The streets were wide and straight. A grand square seemed to mark each intersection and the trees and grassed areas that filled the squares spilled down the edges of each street. Fountains and statues abounded, and on either side of the wide streets were elegant and decorative buildings in light brown stone.
None of the buildings were very high. At the outset the decision had been to build wide and large. The nature of the world with its higher gravity reinforced the plan, and the city was grand and imposing. Everything was built in the brown stone of the Brok Ridge Mountains to the north. Office and apartment buildings were no more than ten or twelve stories high, and each block was no more than four buildings wide. The city was built on a radiating plan, with Government Square at the centre. Here was the Senate. It was an impressive building, with large columns and a high, vaulted ceiling.
It was the middle of the day, bright and warm as usual, and even with the news reports at their most bleak, people were still rushing about their everyday business as normal. The wide pavements and squares were crammed with people, and the streets were busy with noisy traffic. There were private vehicles and buses, delivery vans and taxis. And in the blue skies above were air transports, buzzing back and forth, or hovering over the landing pads in one of the squares. Even at this distance, the clean, fresh air was filled with noise.
Li-Sen-Tot sighed and shook his head. The ignorance of the Edenites was amazing. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, they still carried on as if nothing had happened and nothing was going to happen. But, of course, they didn’t know what he knew.
A noise behind him caused him to turn. Gusta, his personal secretary, had entered quietly and coughed politely.
Li-Sen-Tot closed the window and went back to his desk. “Yes, Gusta,” he said in a high-pitched and very female voice.
Gusta closed the door and came forward. That she and Li-Sen-Tot were of different races was instantly apparent. He was small in stature, barely five-foot in height, his body willowy and light boned. His skin was yellow and his head bald. In fact there appeared to be no hair on his body at all. He wore a long gown of gold that was sparsely decorated with delicate stitching. His appearance was ambiguous and deceptive. Despite the bald head, his delicate facial features and blue eyes looked female. Even his voice sounded female. But he was most definitely male.
The contrast with Gusta was complete as she stood before his desk. She was over two feet taller than Li-Sen-Tot, and her body was muscular, square and heavy boned. Her head was large and her features well pronounced. She had a wide mouth set in a square jaw. Her nose was large, but well shaped and regular; her eyes were green, and her skin was light brown from her days in the sun. Her light brown hair was bleached blonde in places for the same reason. Although her voice was deeper than his, her appearance proclaimed her female sexuality. She was dressed in clothes that were fashionable for a female Edenite with a career in the city: neat jacket and skirt, white blouse and comfortable shoes. Her make-up was delicately applied, highlighting the beauty of her soulful eyes and sensual mouth.
Gusta smiled. It was pleasant and attractive. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Ambassador, but Deputy Leader Alther has arrived and he would like to see you.”
As she finished her sentence, Gusta’s expression took on an apologetic look. Li-Sen-Tot understood why. He had been the Tun-Sho-Lok Ambassador to Eden for twenty-nine years. He had lived here all that time, and he was sad that it was now going to end. But he wasn’t sad for himself, he was sad for the Edenites.
“Then you had better show him in, Gusta,” he said as he sat down at his desk.
Gusta nodded and went out.
Li-Sen-Tot rearranged some of the papers on his desk and pulled his slim desktop computer toward him. He cleared the most recent and sensitive correspondence with his government from the display, retrieving an old and unimportant message in its place. He picked up the earpiece and put it in his ear. Then he gazed at the screen intently. He was in this position when Gusta returned and knocked on the door.
Without looking up, Li-Sen-Tot called out, “Enter!”
Gusta opened the door wide. “The Deputy Leader, sir.”
Prili Alther hurried into the room. He was even larger than Gusta, nearly eight feet in height. His body was proportionately broader, too. If the doors and the whole building hadn’t been designed to Edenite standards, he would probably have gone through the floor. Big boned and big limbed, his hands were immense and his features were strong and stern. He had short, fair hair and he wore a dark suit with a high collar. He nodded curtly.
“Ambassador. Glad you could see me at such short notice.” His voice was deep and loud. He seemed to fill the entire room.
Li-Sen-Tot removed the earpiece and pushed his desktop computer aside. He indicated the large chair in front of his desk. “You know my door is always open.”
As Prili Alther sat down, Li-Sen-Tot spoke quickly to Gusta.
“Coffee, Gusta. And those sugared cakes you know Prili likes.”
She nodded and couldn’t help smiling as she left.
Prili made himself comfortable in the chair. He was a giant facing an elf with only a desk separating them. “You are always gracious and understanding, Ambassador. Some people may think your attention to our needs to be trifling, but I know they have a deeper reason. I wish we could all be the same in the circumstances.”
Li-Sen-Tot nodded in acceptance of the praise. “I have lived here for a generation. It would have been difficult not to become familiar with your customs, and ignorant to ignore them. Besides, eating while talking is far more civilised. Some might say it even takes away the need for war.”
“I wish that were so, but the events on Klysanthia would indicate that the talking has ended.”
Li-Sen-Tot sat back in his chair. There was genuine surprise in his eyes. “You are aware that Klysanthia has fallen?”
Prili nodded. “The news came to us this morning. The Keruh have taken the capital city of Realamabad. All resistance has ceased.”
Li-Sen-Tot remained silent. In the pause that followed, Gusta returned with coffee and the sugared cakes. Prili quickly ate one of the cakes and thanked her while she poured his coffee.
Li-Sen-Tot waited for her to leave before he finally spoke.
“And what does this news mean for your government?”
Prili sipped his coffee. “You know what it means. We cannot delay any longer.”
“It seems that you have been delaying for an eternity. Why the hurry now?”
Prili spoke bluntly. “With the fall of Klysanthia only the Atlantians stand at your side! You cannot hope to defeat the Keruh now!”
Li-Sen-Tot held his fingertips together as he replied, “There was a time when things could have been easier. When I, on behalf of my government, asked you to ally yourselves with us against the Keruh, to combine our forces in a joint venture.”
Prili dismissively waved away his remarks. “I know, I know! You asked us many times and we refused. We valued our neutrality. Our position in the quadrant is not strategic, and the technology of our civilisation poses no threat. There was no need to ally ourselves with either side. That cannot be said of many others who also refused your approach for an alliance.”
“True. But their neutrality was not honoured. Each was attacked and perished in isolation when combined they could have survived.”
Prili hesitated. It was true, of course.
The Tun-Sho-Lok were the oldest race in the Ring, but they were far from the most advanced. Even the Keruh would not have
been considered to be the strongest race. But their society was bred around the concept that war was a glorious and honourable purpose, that life had no meaning unless it was laid down for the good of the Host. Everything they did, their customs, their beliefs, their whole way of life, was based on the need for war and conquest. The Ring gave them quick and open access to all. They had been victorious when many had dismissed them as primitive.
“I cannot argue with you, Ambassador. Maybe you are right. Perhaps we should have allied ourselves with you and sent a force to fight alongside those from Atlantis and Klysanthia. But many others made the same mistake. That time has now passed. We must do what is best now.”
“And what is best for Eden now that Klysanthia has fallen?”
Prili sighed. “We have always heeded your advice and held off from signing a treaty with the Keruh even when they pressed us many times. Now they demand that we sign the treaty or accept that we are at war. They have opened a Ring Network Portal at Elengrad and their Host is waiting to enter. Already far too many in the Ring have perished. We have to sign the treaty. We have no choice now!”
“Those who signed treaties with the Keruh have faired no better than those who sought to be neutral. Their worlds are subjugated and enslaved by the Keruh, their people killed in vast numbers. Is this what you wish for Eden?”
Prili smacked the arm of his chair, rattling his cup. “The Keruh are going to win this war!”
Li-Sen-Tot smiled. He remained calm as he answered, “They will not. And if you ally yourselves with them, even at this late stage, you will perish as they will.”
Prili stared at Li-Sen-Tot. He couldn’t believe how calm and sincere the Ambassador appeared. Either he knew something that Prili himself was unaware of, or he was a fool. Prili decided it was the latter.
“We have to do what’s best for Eden. I’m sorry.”
Li-Sen-Tot nodded. “So am I. Your allegiance with the Keruh is a declaration of war against the Tun-Sho-Lok and her allies.”
It was a final statement, a statement of intent on both sides. They were now no longer friends. Li-Sen-Tot had already returned to reading his papers. Prili didn’t outstay his welcome. He popped one last cake into his mouth before getting to his feet, and then he left.
Li-Sen-Tot looked up as the door closed. He felt very sad but not too surprised at the outcome of the discussion. He pulled his desktop computer toward him again and cleared the unimportant message from the screen. He quickly retrieved the message he had cleared before. He put his earpiece back in and ran the message again. It was the sixth time he would view it. It hadn’t changed.
The first thing that came up on screen was a silent worded message:
GRADE: MOST SECRET
(DE-SCRAMBLE IN ISOLATION)
FROM: GOVERNMENT IN EXILE, METROPOLIS
TO: AMBASSADOR TO EDEN, JUTLAM CITY
The words stayed on the screen for a few seconds, and then faded. They were replaced by a dark image that suddenly sprang into life. It was a close up view of a woman’s head and shoulders, a woman that appeared more like a nymph from a children’s fantasy. Her face was angelic, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Every tiny feature was delicate and beautiful. She was wearing a black uniform and a battered dark grey helmet that was fitted with headphones. A microphone that came out of the side of the helmet was suspended in front of her small mouth. It all seemed too brutal for her exquisite and childlike features. She seemed to be inside some sort of cramped vehicle that moved constantly, causing her to shake about. In fact she moved about so much that she often left the field of view. It was as if the vehicle she was in was pitching up and down and from side to side. The picture constantly sparked with static and blurred with movement. Behind the woman was a high angled view of a burning city, a city with tall and elegant spires that seemed to reach all the way up to the distant clouds. It was night, or it was as dark as night. Only the fires that burned in the distance gave any light.
It quickly became obvious from the wheeling and moving view of the city behind the woman that she was in some sort of air transport, one that was constantly buffeting and shaking. But it wasn’t only the image that was dynamic and confusing. Through the earpiece Li-Sen-Tot heard the sound of screaming engines and the constant thumps of maser blasts. And always there was a violent clattering that accompanied every shake and stagger of the picture.
The woman grabbed hold of part of the metalwork nearby to steady herself, gritting her teeth. She shouted above the din, her light and delicate voice breaking as she tried to make herself heard. She spoke hurriedly in a language Li-Sen-Tot knew so well.
“First offensives with Androktones have been successful! Keruh ground forces in Sectors Nine, Seven and Fourteen have been destroyed! The advance of fleets in Sectors Four, Twelve and Fifteen are presently halted! Fighting on captured worlds in Sector Twelve is most heavy! Keruh ground forces are most susceptible to Androktone attack! Fleet engagements have again proved inconclusive—Ugh!”
There was another loud thump and clatter, and the image shook violently. The woman banged her helmet against the metalwork and almost fell from view. Behind her a bright orange explosion marked the base of one of the tall spires. It quickly began to topple, its final crashing impact lost from sight as the air transport wheeled around. The woman again grabbed on to something to steady herself, the long fingers on her tiny hand curling around a stanchion. She resumed her report.
“Despite success, we have been unable to prevent loss of Klysanthia due to all RNPs being offline! Attempts to land Androktones by conventional means have been unsuccessful! Atlantian forces on Klysanthia have evacuated to Atlantis with all known—Arrgh!”
There was a bright flash and flames flew across the screen. The woman was swallowed up and the picture vibrated violently. Li-Sen-Tot heard the woman scream at the same time as he heard the explosion. The image went dark and the static faded in his ears. All became silent and still. A few seconds passed before a final worded message appeared on the screen.
ANDROKTONE FORCES ARE EXPECTED IN YOUR AREA IMMINENTLY. THEY HAVE BEEN ADVISED THAT EDEN GOVERNMENT MAY CAPITULATE PRIOR TO KERUH INVASION. EDENITE FORCES WILL BE CONSIDERED HOSTILE IN SUCH AN EVENT. SUGGEST YOU RETURN HERE SOONEST.
Li-Sen-Tot sighed and pulled the earpiece from his ear. He switched off his desktop computer and sat back in his chair. He told himself that nothing had changed, that the only surprise was that Prili Alther had been aware of the loss of Klysanthia.
But there had been a change.
Li-Sen-Tot could not remember a time when the Ring was not completely controlled by his people. They gave access to all, but they had kept the intricacies of the technology behind the Ring Network a closely guarded secret. And part of that technology was the encryption codes that allowed access. Each Ring Network Portal had its own code, like an address, and only the Tun-Sho-Lok knew how to program them.
Until now.
The Keruh had learned how to by-pass the encryption system. It was the only way that they could open a separate portal on Eden so easily. That it might eventually happen had never been in doubt. It had only been a matter of time. The Keruh had rudimentary skills, but they were organised, logical and determined. And where one portal could be opened, others would soon follow. But the Keruh had gone beyond even that. By adding a genetic descriptor to the ring network protocols they had denied access to Klysanthia as easily as they denied access to their own home world.
And no one had noticed.
The fact that the Tun-Sho-Lok and their allies had themselves been able to block access to all the worlds involved in the war for so long was neither a surprise nor was it questioned. Who would want instant access to armies and refugees in flight from war? Who would wish the fighting to spill through the portals into their peaceful worlds? When the Tun-Sho-Lok had stated that access was denied to prevent the spread of the conflict, none had questioned it. Li-Sen-Tot knew why. No one wished to become i
nvolved. They wanted to carry on as normal, ignoring the deaths of so many. They wanted to distance themselves from the agonies that existed just beyond the threshold of the next portal.
Selfish.
Now that had all changed. Now the Keruh would be able to proclaim themselves victorious, to tell all of the fall of Lokana and Klysanthia. It should have been a dangerous time, a time when all would have learned just how badly the war had gone.
But there had been a change.
Prili Alther had known about Klysanthia but not about Lokana. There could only be one reason for that.
When the Keruh Dominant had made his demands that morning, he must have only told the Edenites about Klysanthia. His reasoning would be simple. If the Edenites had known the truth about Lokana, they would have been shocked. They may even have resisted. But the fall of Klysanthia was just another piece of bad news in a long line of bad news. It was just enough to get them to acquiesce.
The Keruh Dominant was cunning. He must know that they were losing. He must know that the tide had turned. Now he would drag the Edenites into the final conflict at the very moment when they could have escaped.
If the Androktones considered the Edenites to be hostile, as they most surely would, they would kill them without thought.
And Li-Sen-Tot could have avoided it.
He should have argued more strongly. He should have tried his best to convince Prili not to give in, even now, at this late stage. He should have told him the truth. He should have revealed what he knew about the Androktones. Prili was an honest man, he would have believed him, and there was no other man on Eden who could have convinced the Eden Government to defy the Keruh.
So why did he keep silent?
Ever since the fall of Lokana, Li-Sen-Tot had felt a growing bitterness. The reason was simple. None of the civilisations that had thrived on their link with the Ring had come to their aid when it mattered. The Tun-Sho-Lok had given them everything, and had received nothing.
The Keruh had seen the Tun-Sho-Lok for what they were, the bringers of civilisation and the controllers of the Ring. They had wanted that control. They had attacked Lokana and their colony worlds without warning, pouring through the portals and bringing war and destruction to each in turn. Lokana was reduced to a cinder, its once beautiful cities and landscape just fields of ash. And one by one their colonies fell, their populations slaughtered. The Tun-Sho-Lok had hid the truth and pleaded for support. They had lost the heart for war, and there were many more races more skilled and prepared for this industry than they. Surely they would help?
None answered their call, none save the Klysanthians and Atlantians. And they were less prepared for war than the Tun-Sho-Lok. The Atlantians were loyal, eager and warlike. They offered to help without hesitation, but they lacked technology. In return for giving their blood, the Tun-Sho-Lok armed them and gave them all they needed.
The Klysanthians were such an elegant and delicate race. They were technologically advanced but committed to higher morals. They fought and had died for the simple and pure reason that it was right to do so and wrong to stand aside.
Li-Sen-Tot had spent many years of his childhood on Klysanthia when his mother worked at the Embassy there. And it was while he was there that he had decided to become male, simply because he enjoyed the sexual experience he shared with Klysanthian females. They were so delicate, so slender, and so sensual. How he mourned their loss. They were such beautiful creatures.
It was the fall of Klysanthia even more than the fall of his own home world of Lokana that hurt Li-Sen-Tot. At the moment he learned of it, his heart had snapped.
Li-Sen-Tot got to his feet and went back over to the window. He stared out at the busy streets once more. He imagined the teaming streets to be still and silent. He imagined all the busy people lying still, dead, butchered. He imagined the fire and the smoke and the grotesquely swollen forms moving among the dead and dying. So it must have been in Realamabad. So it must have been all over Klysanthia.
As it was on Lokana.
Li-Sen-Tot turned away. He felt no remorse.