Chapter 26: CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The wind had picked up, the thick clouds obliterating what was left of the sun as Westwood made his way back to the village. He had taken a long walk through the forest, contemplating his next moves. His mind was on that RCMP constable or sergeant or whatever his rank was. He had no business telling him what he could and couldn’t do. Did these Canadians think they had exclusive rights to these aliens? The spacecraft may have landed in Canadian territory, but the occupants belonged to the world. And who better to take care of them than the United States of America?

The airstrip outside the village was too small for large military aircraft. He thought of contacting General Wittenberg, and requesting a crew to help him with the removal of the aliens. The logistics might be rather overwhelming, considering the number of aliens in this village. A hundred and sixty something, plus the same number of those animals they called whistling dragons. Everyone would be long gone from here, if it wasn’t for Daniel de Montelier. A thorn in his side that had to be pulled and tossed away.

A number of cubs were playing at the back of one of the houses. They seemed so much at home here, as if they had lived here all their lives. Considering how long they had been here, some of the younger cubs must have been born here. Not where they should be. They should be in an underground facility in Colorado. General Wittenberg ruled over that facility like an emperor. It reminded him of that old commercial: The aliens go in, but they don’t come out.

The public would be the problem. These aliens had become so popular they couldn’t simply disappear. A spacecraft with one or two of those critters could be taken care of without any problem, providing you knew what to say and how to say it, but over one hundred and fifty... no, make that over three hundred if you count both species, that would prove a daunting task.

The cubs were playing with a large ball that rolled toward him. He made no move to pick it up. The cubs – four of them – stood, and watched him, and he could see them shivering. It wasn’t that cold yet, despite October. They were used to cold, so this was fear. He forced himself to smile, but they stayed where they were. The ball near his feet moved with the help of the wind.

He kicked the ball, but it didn’t reach them. They made no move to retrieve it. He walked on, not bothering to look behind him. They yelled, sounding like human children with their shouts and laughter. A moment later, the ball bounced into his field of vision. He didn’t care about them. They couldn’t tell him anything worthwhile. Like human children, they were the innocents, living in a world of joy and love and play. Youngsters, whether human children or alien cubs, adapted so much better to new situations than adults. And adults was what he wanted, adults who could tell him so much more.

It they had come here, where were the others? There had to be others.

He walked to the back of the diner, to Montelier’s office, expecting to see the RCMP officer behind the desk, but no one was there. He wanted to confront him, tell him he had no intention of leaving the aliens alone. He was going to go ahead with the evacuation of the aliens, and Canadian government, Canadian military be damned.

He went behind the desk, sat down. He reached for the phone, placed a call to Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base in Colorado. He had a direct line to General Albert Wittenberg, and the General answered, voice gruff and throaty. Westwood pictured him puffing on a long brown cigar.

“Better not be wasting my time,” Wittenberg growled.

“I need men,” he said.

“Why?”

“I want to bring the aliens to Colorado.”

“What? Are you crazy? They’re up there in Canada, and that’s where they’re going to stay.”

“But, sir, the Canadians aren’t doing anything with them. They’re living in a village up here in northern Ontario, and you’d think they belonged here.”

“I’ve talked with the Prime Minister three days ago, and we came to an agreement that the best place for these aliens is right up there where they are now.”

Westwood sighed. “They need to be studied, examined...”

“No, Colonel. We’re not paranoid. They’re here, they haven’t done anything, they haven’t harmed anyone... They’re known throughout the world, so if you try anything, heads will roll.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, sir.”

“Anything happens to them, any attempt to remove them from the village, and you will find yourself facing a court martial. Do you understand, Colonel Westwood?”

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t understand. If there was one man he thought he could rely on that man was General Albert Wittenberg. What had the Prime Minister and Wittenberg talked about? If those aliens looked like butt-ugly reptilians there’d be no hesitation in removing them from the village. Appearance meant everything, didn’t it?

The door opened, and one of the aliens walked in. She stopped, her tail making little movements behind her back. Her whistling dragon stood beside her, making little growling noises in the back of his throat.

“Where is Sen Montelier?” she asked.

“How would I know?”

“How are you going to accomplish it all by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He wasn’t going to tell her about his conversation with General Wittenberg.

She moved closer, and he took a step back. “Are you afraid of me, Colonel?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She could tell he was lying, but he didn’t care.

“You’re not welcome here,” she said. “If you do anything that harms any of us, we have the power to place you under arrest.”

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He laughed. “You’re aliens, you don’t have any rights.”

Another alien entered the room, and behind him, two smaller ones, all accompanied by their whistling dragons. The tall one, about the same size as the female who had entered first, leaned close to the female, but remained silent.

“Colonel Westwood,” the female said, “we’ve talked before. My name is Chandrha, and this is my mate Rheôvhan, and our cubs. I don’t know what your plan is, but it better not involve removing us from this village. If you want to know the truth, we have been told by the Canadian government to remain here, and that’s what we intend to do. When the Prime Minister visited us, he told us it was for our own safety. If you want to bring scientists up here to examine us, they’re welcome to do so, and they can report back to your government. During the time we have been here we have had humans from several different countries visit us, ask us questions...”

Westwood held up his forefinger. “Who the hell do you think you are? You come here, land your ship on our planet, and you make yourself right at home, like you own this world.”

“Don’t put words in my mate’s mouth,” Rheôvhan said.

“I can do with you what I want,” he said. “I intend to remove you from this village, and I’m going to do it as soon as my men get here. A whole shitload of soldiers are going to come here, and they’re going to kick your butt all the way to Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base in Colorado. And... and we’re going to locate that spaceship of yours, and we’re going to take it to the States and...”

“You won’t be taking that ship anywhere,” Chandrha said. “It cannot be moved, it will not be moved. If you try anything, Colonel Westwood, you can wave good bye to your military career.” She wasn’t going to tell him that the ship had the capability to defend itself. It had no intention of leaving its location in the forest, and if it meant death for those who attempted it, so be it.

He had had enough. He wasn’t going to be dictated by these furry fox-like aliens who had no business on this planet. If a hundred and sixty or more had come, there had to be others on the way. What then? What would happen to humanity if spaceship after spaceship of furry aliens showed up in Earth’s orbit?

The end of humanity.

He couldn’t let that happen. He had to save the planet from a possible invasion.

He walked around the aliens and their whistling dragons, giving them a wide berth as if they were rabid dogs ready to attack at any moment.

“Where are you going?” Rheôvhan asked.

“None of your business.”

Chandrha moved to the door, blocking Westwood’s path. “What are you planning, Colonel?”

He said nothing. Any words out of his mouth, and they’d be able to tell he was lying. No matter how carefully he concealed his body language.

They knew, they always knew.

“You’re under arrest, Colonel Westwood,” Rheôvhan said. “It’s obvious we can’t trust you. You’re plotting to remove the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons from this village. That is against the law, against the agreement we have reached with the Canadian government.”

“Fuck you,” Westwood growled. He wanted to rush the male, yank open the door, and run somewhere, anywhere, get away from them so he could plan.

The poison in the adult’s claws made him stop, and back away. Looking at the cub, an idea formed in his mind. A risky venture, but maybe he could pull it off.

“All right,” he said, raising his hands, “you’ve got me.”

“We don’t have a jail,” Chandrha said, “but we can place you under house arrest, with a guard, until Sen Montelier can figure out what to do with you.”

Westwood reached out, grabbed the older cub’s arm, yanked her in front of him. He twisted her arm behind her back, and she cried out. His other hand squeezed her throat, just enough to show her and the two adults he meant business.

“I’m walking out of here,” he said, “and I’m taking her with me.” The door pushed against his back.

“You’re not going anywhere, Sen Westwood,” Rheôvhan said.

Westwood released his hold on the cub’s throat, fumbled for the door knob, trying to keep his eyes on the cub and the adults. If he didn’t get out of here now, he’d never get out alive.

Just as he turned the knob, the door opened from the other side, and he had no choice but to go back inside. He lost his balance, had to let go of the cub. The moment he did Chandrha was on him, and in the brief moment left in his life he realized what would happen. He tried to scramble to his feet, slipped, went down hard on his side. Chandrha bared her claws, thrust them into his leg.

Death was instantaneous.

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