were divided into three factions, two major and one minor. None had enough votes just in and of themselves to pass anything, so passing any resolution that was not what Sime called a “no-brainer” required some cooperation between the factions. The minor faction consisted of delegates who were cranks. They tended to be from freeholds away from the fighting and did not much need the cooperation of other delegations.
The second-largest faction Ahn-Kha thought of as the “Guns” group. They were led by the scarred giant from Norway who’d survived Trondheim, the “Stalingrad of the Twenty-first Century.” They generally were interested in whatever would bring the fight fastest and hardest to the Kurian Order.
The largest delegation was the “Butter” group. They’d dominated the conference, and were most interested in whatever would build up their freeholds to something approaching the capabilities of most twentieth-century nations, and mostly waging a defensive war against the Kurians. Ahn-Kha suspected that most of the Butter group would accept the offer, but it couldn’t pass without a majority of the Guns group adding their votes.
The Guns group would be heavily influenced by the Norwegian. He was at this moment perhaps the most influential human in modern history. Ahn-Kha wondered if he knew how important he’d become, and craned around to try to get a look at him.
There he was, huddling with some other Scandinavians and the representatives from the Pacific Northwest and Vladivostok, all in the Guns camp. Sime had mostly voted Butter over the course of the conference. Ahn-Kha wondered if it was on instruction from the UFR government.
“We will give you forty-eight hours to consider this. Consult your home governments if you have the ability. The arrangement you are about to be offered is the best one we could get. In a very short time our bargaining power on Earth vanishes, for lifespans beyond guessing without a collapse of the Kurian Order.”
The alarmed buzzing started up again. To him, it sounded like a beehive being poked by a stick.
The Finnish president returned to her podium. She was red-eyed from crying.
“We will have a thirty-minute break,” she said through their earpieces.
“I am sorry, but we are leaving,” another in the Lifeweaver party announced.
As he moved down the aisle, a little throng from the Butter group joined Sime. “Were you expecting anything this big?” a man with a slight Australian accent asked.
Ahn-Kha rounded on them, clearly angry.
“Sime, you knew about this?”
Sime’s cool composure was breaking down. He had sweat on his upper lip.
“Of course not.”
“But you knew something was in the wind,” Ahn-Kha countered. “Is that why you gave leave to David and so on?”
“I will do you better,” Sime said. “I’ll tell you everything I know about the matter. There were whispers around the president’s staff that some kind of ‘accommodation’ may be needed. It’s one of the reasons Southern Command has played it so quietly since Javelin dropped in Kentucky rather than the Coal Country.”
The delegates filed out, to find a small buffet laid out on the concourse outside the big meeting room with the piano. There was a good deal of talk about when the Lifeweavers would pull up stakes and whether the vote would go for or against making the freeholds permanent. Or at least permanent until the last Lifeweaver ship took off with a full cargo of legworm leather.
Ahn-Kha made a show of laying out his food for eating, but he actually hardly ate a bite of what he put on the plate.
A wild, blood-splattered redheaded creature threw open the glass doors to the concourse. “The Kurians are here!” Duvalier gasped.
She had blood caked all over one wrist and her clothes were stained. She stood there panting, more winded than Ahn-Kha had ever seen her. “We’re about to be attacked. Call the army, air force, navy, whoever you can get!”
CHAPTER TEN
The Defenestration of Kokkola: It proved to be the shot heard round the world. It also led to a good deal of historical inaccuracy. There were a few countries that mixed up players, participants, and notes. Most of the freeholds played up their own role in the affair—it was always the cowards on the other side of the world who were ready to hand over the keys to the planet to the Kurians.
As best as can be determined, the Kurian plan was to co-opt a few key players at the conference to ensure that the vote tilted their way, toward what’s now called the “Terrible Truce.” Of course there were a few ready to end the fighting and work something out that left their freehold intact. Then there was the legendary Rolf of Trondheim. The plan for him, it appeared, was to use a Kurian posing as Alessa Duvalier to either render him indisposed for the vote, or perhaps have the creature dispose of him in some manner and then switch over to his appearance and have the most renowned Resistance fighter in the Baltic League vote for peace and perhaps sway enough from the Guns group to allow it to pass.
None of the more serious reporting that followed gave any credit to Alessa Duvalier, which was just the way she liked it. Rolf of Trondheim and, of course, the photogenic Ahn-Kha were given most of the credit for uncovering the plot and starting the Grand Offensive against the Kurians (within a year, it was possible to buy a stuffed Ahn-Kha in Helsinki to give to your children).
For once, a conference of humans settled on the right course of action. The Kokkola Resolve was short and to the point: immediate, all-out warfare from every freehold against the Kurians whenever and wherever they could be found was voted on and passed with just a few abstentions.
She needed food. How long since she’d eaten? Twenty-four hours, at least, since she’d had a meal. An incredible aroma permeated the buffet room and her mouth went soft and wet from the saliva that filled it so quickly that she had to swallow in surprise.
As she heaped a plate with food, she watched the security station work their phones, with increasingly worried faces and urgent switching of communication modes. Police and men in uniform began to appear and stand at the doors.
Duvalier fell upon the roast like a famished hound. As she ate, Ahn-Kha gave her the news.
It hit her hard.