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  The Alliance

  Book Two

  CONCEPTION

  by

  Lawrence P. White

  www.spiritofempire.com

  CONCEPTION

  (The Alliance, Book Two)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Copyright © 2019 by Lawrence P. White

  Published by Lawrence P. White

  First Edition April 2019

  Cover design by Creative Publishing Book Design

  www.creativepublishingdesign.com

  For more information, email Lawrence P. White at

  [email protected]

  or visit

  www.spiritofempire.com

  The Alliance series

  Ship’s Log

  Conception

  Genesis

  Other books by Lawrence P. White

  The Spirit of Empire series

  Last of the Chosen

  Knights of the Chosen

  Voice of the Chosen

  Sky Knights

  Wisdom of the Chosen

  Havlock

  Farside (coming someday)

  Chapter One

  Greg woke up slowly, so slowly that he had been awake for a while before realizing it. He was lying on his back looking at a pale blue ceiling. He blinked a few times to focus his eyes, then he remembered.

  This ceiling was not on the ship. He closed his eyes and thought hard, but he could not remember any light blue ceilings on the ship. He turned his head to the right and looked across a nightstand to a wall that was also pale blue. White curtains covered a window that was centered in the wall. Shifting his view counterclockwise, he discovered a door near the corner leading into a bathroom. Directly across from the foot of his bed was a picture. His eyes passed it by, then quickly returned when he realized who was in the picture. It was a blow-up of the picture Arlynn had taken in the clearing with him, Nancy, Jim, and Arlynn. The next corner held an open door leading into a hallway, then his eyes met those of a stranger seated beside the bed. The stranger was a big man, at least six and one-half feet tall and heavily built, though he appeared to be in excellent physical condition with no hint of extra pounds at his waist. He made the chair he was sitting on look small.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton,” the stranger said in a gruff voice, the gruffness softened by the look of curiosity in sharp, hazel eyes that peered into Greg’s from beneath thick, brown eyebrows. Greg swallowed, then licked his lips. The man reached for a glass of water and helped him to drink.

  “There, is that better?” the man asked with concern filling his wide-spaced, deep-set eyes.

  “Who are you?” Greg asked. Then looking around the room again, “Where am I?”

  “I am called Kannick. You are on my home world, Ariall. This is a hospital.”

  “How did I get here?”

  “I brought you in your ship,” Kannick replied with a kindly, knowing look.

  “Are you a Harbok?”

  Caught by surprise, the man hesitated, then he chuckled. “Do I look like a giant to you, Mr. Greg Hamilton? I am not exactly small, but I am not a giant either. No, Mr. Hamilton, you made it. You are on Arlynn’s home world. You have nothing to fear here. Your fighting days are over.”

  Greg struggled to a sitting position as Kannick looked on. “How is she?” he asked.

  Kannick instantly sobered. “Her doctors are hopeful, though they have not woken her yet.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Only a few months. The battle in your Asteroid Belt took place five months ago.”

  His jaw dropped open. “Five months!” he exclaimed. “Five months? Arlynn said she could only survive the Cold Sleep for one month.”

  “That was true under the conditions on your ship, but with the proper equipment and care, our doctors can extend that time considerably. Almost indefinitely,” Kannick added as an afterthought. “Arlynn’s condition is more serious than yours, and they need more time to revive her. Unlike you, her body was in an extremely weakened state before she took the Cold Sleep medicine.”

  Greg considered Kannick’s words, then he turned to him with a questioning look. “You said, ‘Unlike me . . .’ Does that mean I was also given the Cold Sleep medicine?”

  “Administered to you by me on board your ship,” Kannick replied, eyeing him carefully.

  He was confused. “But . . .”

  Kannick leaned back in his chair as Greg sputtered. He spread his hands wide, saying, “Mr. Hamilton, we have lots of things to discuss, but there is no hurry. We will answer all your questions. We have nothing to hide from you, there are only a few subjects that are off-limits, and you are a free man. You are our guest. You may remain here for as long as you want, or you may return to Earth this very day. I hope you’ll stay for a while. Your doctors recommend that you remain here for at least a few more weeks of recuperation, to allow your mind and body a chance to, as you say, get on their feet again. But the choice is entirely yours.”

  “Oh.” Kannick’s words surprised Greg, and he took a moment to let them sink in. “That’s not what I meant,” he said eventually. “I’m just surprised that the Cold Sleep medicine would work for me since I’m from Earth, not from here. That makes us, uh . . .” He paused, trying to read Kannick’s expression to see if he would take offense, but he read only openness.

  “How could your medicine work on me?” he blurted out.

  “We are not as different as you think,” Kannick replied, “but that is a subject for later discussion. For the moment, I want to focus on you. A lot has happened since you recorded your story aboard your ship, and we were forced to make decisions about your care without your consent. The choices we made were the choices we believed you would make, and we hope you will not hold our decisions against us.”

  Greg blinked a few times, then said, “Of course I won’t. I’m not exactly sure what decisions you’re talking about, but I’m sorry if it’s been a source of concern. Whatever happened, I’m alive because of your efforts, and I’m grateful. Being alive is certainly better than being dead.” He stopped for a moment, suddenly suspicious, then asked, “Isn’t it?”

  Kannick’s face lit up. “It is, Mr. Hamilton. You are still the same old you with a few refinements you will adjust to. How do you feel by the way?”

  Greg explored himself, testing his arms, legs, fingers and toes. “I feel great! A little sluggish maybe, but that seems reasonable after three months on my back. Mentally, I feel really good, like I just woke up from a good night’s sleep. I’m hungry though.”

  “Your muscle tone will return in a few days. You might have some difficulty with fine motor control during that time, but our doctors have exercised your large muscles on a regular basis while you were asleep.”

  “They did?”

  “Yes. It’s standard practice to stimulate motor activity in comatose patients. It improves the recovery process by keeping your body functioning as normally as possible.”

  “You keep mentioning motors,” Greg responded warily, moving his fingers and toes. “Is this my own body or what?”

  Kannick’s expression grew serious again. “Yes, Mr. Hamilton. You are all you. We have not added or subtracted any parts at all. We have simply made sure your body is healthy. You are probably healthier now than at any time in your life. If I misled you, I apologize. My briefings on this have been intense, and I might have gotten a little carried away with technicalities. I assure you th
at you are occupying the same body with which you left Earth.”

  “You’re not a doctor, then?”

  “Not a medical doctor, no. Let me introduce myself. My name is Thyursan Kannick. My title would be translated as colonel-scientist, or perhaps colonel-doctor would be more fitting, I’m not certain.”

  “And what are you a colonel-scientist-doctor of, Mr. Kannick?”

  “Well, I am first a scientist. On Earth, based on education I would be the equivalent of the Ph.D. However, on Ariall, once we complete our formal education, we are all Ph.D.’s so to speak, and when we elect to go into research we are simply called scientists. The colonel part designates my position within our Exploration Service. I was Jarl’s second in command aboard the baseship studying Earth.”

  Greg suddenly felt uneasy. Was this a military operation then? Were they holding him incommunicado while they decided what to do with him? “Uh, Mr. Kannick . . .” he began hesitantly, then more firmly, “Does your government know I’m here?”

  Kannick looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Of course they do, Mr. Hamilton. In fact, our whole world knows about you. You’re a hero. People from around the globe are clamoring to meet the man who rescued Arlynn.”

  That revelation caught Greg completely off guard. He blinked again, suddenly at a loss for words but still suspicious. “What kind of scientist are you?” he asked.

  “I’m currently specializing in the StarDrive. There’s a lot we don’t understood about the StarDrive. Since the Exploration Service is a primary user of the system, I’ve had excellent opportunities to pursue my research.” Kannick paused in thought as he looked off into the distance, then he added, “Until recently, anyway.” He returned his gaze to Greg. “With the advent of our defense forces, some of us have temporarily set aside our research to fill vacancies as fighter pilots. As disagreeable as the job is, it’s necessary. I do not regret my decision more than a few times each day.”

  Kannick changed the subject. “I’m forgetting my duties here,” he said. “You mentioned you were hungry. Would you like to eat? Or perhaps you are ready to rest again?”

  “I’ve been sleeping for months. I hardly need more of that. I’m hungry though. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. We can talk while we eat, and it’s not necessary that you eat what I do. Where I come from, hospital fare is not something we brag about. I’d like to know how you ended up getting assigned to me.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. I would enjoy a nice big steak. Unfortunately, you will not be so lucky. Your stomach is not accustomed to eating, and you will have to train it slowly. You are stuck with hospital fare for a day or two.”

  Greg smiled, thinking back to the last cold can of beans he had eaten three months ago. He waited for Kannick to order their lunch, but Kannick stayed in his chair, apparently waiting for Greg to continue. The silence grew embarrassing.

  “Yes?” Kannick finally asked.

  “Uh, I thought you said it was lunch time. Don’t you have to put in an order or something?”

  Kannick looked surprised, then thoughtful, then hesitant. “The order has been placed, Mr. Hamilton. I think we just crossed into the diplomatic arena. I need to explain your position here, then my own. I’m certain you can appreciate your importance to us. In fact, my government is treating you as an emissary of Earth, with all the privileges that implies.” He held up a hand as Greg started to object and shook his head. “Consider the disaster we have with the Harbok. I’m sure you can appreciate the lengths to which we are willing to go to prevent similar misunderstandings with the only other alien race we have encountered, namely you, and by extension, all the people of Earth.”

  “Look, Mr. Kannick, I’m no emissary. I’m just good old Greg, common everyday citizen, caught up in events as the saying goes.”

  “You are an emissary of your people whether you like it or not, Mr. Hamilton. It may not be by choice, but you are all we have for the moment.”

  Greg hesitated, unsure of himself. Kannick had a point. He certainly did not feel like a diplomat, nor did he want to deal with these people on diplomatic levels. On the other hand, if he was the only Earthman they knew, then from their viewpoint it made sense. In fact, from their perspective, the situation demanded it. But that did not mean he had to accept things entirely on their terms. He pushed himself up straighter on the bed as he gathered his thoughts, then he focused back on Kannick.

  “Mr. Kannick, I recognize and accept the significance of our two races meeting somewhere besides a tent in the Canadian wilderness. Not only is this important, it’s tremendously exciting to me personally, and I’m sure it would be to the rest of my people if they knew about it. So far, I have every reason to believe our two civilizations can get along together and, hopefully, become friends.

  “But I think it would be a mistake to treat me as an emissary. In many instances on Earth, and they definitely apply here, stupid little mistakes of etiquette have prevented friendships from developing among various cultures. We have people specifically trained to prevent those situations. They’re called diplomats, and they represent some of the most knowledgeable people my race has produced. I am not a diplomat. I’m Greg Hamilton, private citizen, very much out of my depth here.”

  He stopped, looking for signs of agreement, but Kannick just returned his stare. Greg scowled, then he shrugged and said, “If you insist on treating me as a representative of my people, then you will have to accept certain limitations on that representation. Do you understand that my world consists of a wide variety of cultures, of different groups of people, many of whom I know nothing about and others who might consider me their enemy?”

  Kannick nodded. “I am not an expert, but I speak your language, and that language training included an extensive background on your culture and history.”

  “How many other Earth languages do you speak?”

  “I speak no others. My training was a little rushed. I’m not completely comfortable with this one yet.”

  Greg was stunned. “Hmm. If this was a rush job, the real thing must be impressive.” He frowned, then continued. “We probably have a hundred different major languages on Earth and a different culture to go with each one of them. I don’t think you appreciate the impossibility of the situation you’re placing me in. The impression I got from Arlynn is that your world is not at all like Earth in this respect. Kannick, I cannot fairly represent everyone on Earth. I can only represent myself. I cannot make treaties, nor can I negotiate on the behalf of others. What I can do, and what I would very much like to do, is get to know you and your people. When the time comes for formalities, perhaps what we accomplish here will help both our civilizations through the process. For the moment, I suggest that we place little emphasis on formality, but lots of emphasis on forgiving ignorance on both our parts. Can you accept those terms, Mr. Kannick?”

  “I can, and I do. I believe we just concluded our first formal agreement. We will conduct ourselves on an informal basis, and we will learn about each other without worrying about politics,” he said, beaming. “I like it! And please, everyone just calls me Kannick.”

  Greg smiled back. “I’m Greg.”

  “Thank you! But we have to get serious with our informality for another moment. I’m pleased to hear that you understand how easy it is to make mistakes while we get to know one another. That is, perhaps, the single most important lesson we’ve learned from our experiences with the Harbok. Because of that, we are monitoring and recording everything we do with you. If we make mistakes, we will dissect them and determine where we went wrong. I mentioned that our dinner order had already been placed. In fact, it should be ready soon.”

  Greg blinked a few times while his mind mulled over Kannick’s words. Hesitantly, he said, “Uh . . . what happens if it’s me who makes the mistake? Who’s going to analyze things from my perspective?”

  “We are. We selected our specialists carefully. They understand the need to keep an open mind, but we’re mo
nitoring other things, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Are you familiar with how, during experiments, monitoring takes place on as many levels as possible? How, when something goes wrong, those records are carefully analyzed to determine the cause?”

  “Sure.”

  “In your case, we are monitoring you and me on as many different levels as we can, but with one big difference. We are not willing to chance mistakes. We are not interested in going back later to discover what went wrong. We are proceeding as if we have only this one chance with you. Consequently, we are studying everything as it occurs, in real time, to manage mistakes before they get out of control. For example, if you get sick, an extremely unlikely event, we want to know about it before you do. We are studying all your facial nuances for changes to inner feelings. We are studying your breathing patterns, changes in blood pressure, even brain activity. We’ve been doing this since your arrival, Greg. Even while you were asleep, with and without dreams, we watched, just in case. Hundreds of specialists are involved around the clock.”

  Greg felt strange. Then he became uncomfortably hot and started blinking repeatedly, then he stopped blinking in case someone took it wrong. How was he going to go to the bathroom with everyone watching, he wondered? “Come on, Kannick,” he said. “Hundreds? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Definitely not. They’re monitoring me, too. This is important to us. It’s a small price to pay for being in the positions we find ourselves in, is it not?”

  Greg felt distinctly uncomfortable and grew more so by the minute, but he needed to be careful here—the slightest mistake on his part could offend the scientists who were studying him. “I don’t know if this is a problem or not,” he said. “Can’t you and I work out our mistakes by ourselves?”

  “I hope so. I will be open with you, and if I see a problem developing, I will tell you. I hope you will do the same for me.”

  “Well, sure! But there might be a few areas I’m uncomfortable discussing. It probably wouldn’t be right for me to discuss Earth’s military capabilities, for example, even if you don’t consider yourselves a threat to us.”