the skirmish below as attacks and weapon discharges repeated several times over the next few minutes. The hicays seemed to have adjusted to the soldier weapons, using nearby brush for cover until they attacked, and then retreating quickly, before the soldiers could take proper aim.
The mass attacks ended as quickly as they began. Soldiers packed up their camp in a hurry. They chirped excitedly, but he had no idea what they were saying.
The scouts disappeared into the jungle in the same direction from which they had come. Deep-throated growls followed them and grew distant as the beasts stalked the soldiers.
Even though the hicay sounds were gone, Simon was afraid to descend. He filled his water pouches with condensation from the morning mist and stored them while he waited for some indication that it was safe to leave.
A small fern at the far edge of the clearing brushed aside and out waddled several baby chukkas, rooting under jungle mulch in search of food. Moments later, adults joined them, and the usual jungle sounds returned.
Taking his cue from the jungle creatures, Simon dropped into the midst of the chukka pack, sending startled animals scurrying in every direction. He ignored their snorts and hurtled a scampering animal as he ran in the direction of the rocky peak.
His pace carried new urgency. It was no longer enough for him to survive the jungle. Soldiers were hunting him.
Chapter 9
Dr. Hadje’s fear came to pass only two days later. The Governing Council met in emergency session, and General Tragge’s impassioned words rang out with greater impact than ever before.
“How many times must I come before you?” He pounded the podium with his fist. “How many times must I beg this assembly of learned governors to exercise the strength of will and good judgment to put the interests of our people above our noble experiment with humans? For three hundred years, we acted in good faith. For three hundred years, we lived by higher standards than any other race in the galaxy,” he paused for effect, “and, for those three hundred years, our people suffered. Why? To protect human s from extinction. Yes, we honored our moral code,” the general emphasized each word, “for three . . . hundred . . . years.”
General Tragge took a sip of water. The skilled military-politician knew there were growing numbers of pragmatists in government who were deeply concerned about the price Tanarac paid for living by higher principles.
The human attack at Quarry 33 seemed clear. Three hundred years of sacrifice might have been in vain. Humans were still violent. The wily general believed if he allowed time for his peers to wrestle with the dilemma, they would be more receptive to his solution. After a carefully planned delay, the general cleared his throat into his microphone. Discussion subsided.
“My fellow Tanaracs, I would never violate any of our deeply held principles, nor would I ask any of you to do so. We are a peace-loving race.”
He knew this was exactly what moderate politicians needed to hear.
“I submit to you my proposal for debate. The Human Solution Act is quite simple and remains consistent with Tanarac principles. No harm will come to a single human living under our protection. They will continue to live in peace, enjoying all the benefits they presently have, until the end of their natural life spans. My bill simply directs that we cease human reproduction at our Human Genetics Institute. Let the experiment end. In less than half of a Tanarac lifetime, we will be free of the burdens we have endured for three centuries. It is ethical. It is necessary.”
General Tragge aimed a clicker at a large screen nearby and a picture of Simon appeared before the council.
“As evidence to support the necessity for my Human Solution Act, I submit my report on a recent incident at Quarry 33. This violence illustrates the failure of our present human policies better than any words I can offer. Read it. Read it,
The mass attacks ended as quickly as they began. Soldiers packed up their camp in a hurry. They chirped excitedly, but he had no idea what they were saying.
The scouts disappeared into the jungle in the same direction from which they had come. Deep-throated growls followed them and grew distant as the beasts stalked the soldiers.
Even though the hicay sounds were gone, Simon was afraid to descend. He filled his water pouches with condensation from the morning mist and stored them while he waited for some indication that it was safe to leave.
A small fern at the far edge of the clearing brushed aside and out waddled several baby chukkas, rooting under jungle mulch in search of food. Moments later, adults joined them, and the usual jungle sounds returned.
Taking his cue from the jungle creatures, Simon dropped into the midst of the chukka pack, sending startled animals scurrying in every direction. He ignored their snorts and hurtled a scampering animal as he ran in the direction of the rocky peak.
His pace carried new urgency. It was no longer enough for him to survive the jungle. Soldiers were hunting him.
Chapter 9
Dr. Hadje’s fear came to pass only two days later. The Governing Council met in emergency session, and General Tragge’s impassioned words rang out with greater impact than ever before.
“How many times must I come before you?” He pounded the podium with his fist. “How many times must I beg this assembly of learned governors to exercise the strength of will and good judgment to put the interests of our people above our noble experiment with humans? For three hundred years, we acted in good faith. For three hundred years, we lived by higher standards than any other race in the galaxy,” he paused for effect, “and, for those three hundred years, our people suffered. Why? To protect human s from extinction. Yes, we honored our moral code,” the general emphasized each word, “for three . . . hundred . . . years.”
General Tragge took a sip of water. The skilled military-politician knew there were growing numbers of pragmatists in government who were deeply concerned about the price Tanarac paid for living by higher principles.
The human attack at Quarry 33 seemed clear. Three hundred years of sacrifice might have been in vain. Humans were still violent. The wily general believed if he allowed time for his peers to wrestle with the dilemma, they would be more receptive to his solution. After a carefully planned delay, the general cleared his throat into his microphone. Discussion subsided.
“My fellow Tanaracs, I would never violate any of our deeply held principles, nor would I ask any of you to do so. We are a peace-loving race.”
He knew this was exactly what moderate politicians needed to hear.
“I submit to you my proposal for debate. The Human Solution Act is quite simple and remains consistent with Tanarac principles. No harm will come to a single human living under our protection. They will continue to live in peace, enjoying all the benefits they presently have, until the end of their natural life spans. My bill simply directs that we cease human reproduction at our Human Genetics Institute. Let the experiment end. In less than half of a Tanarac lifetime, we will be free of the burdens we have endured for three centuries. It is ethical. It is necessary.”
General Tragge aimed a clicker at a large screen nearby and a picture of Simon appeared before the council.
“As evidence to support the necessity for my Human Solution Act, I submit my report on a recent incident at Quarry 33. This violence illustrates the failure of our present human policies better than any words I can offer. Read it. Read it,
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