A little blue world, the third planet from the sun. It’s home to seven billion people—with all manner of faiths, beliefs, and customs, divided by bigotry and misunderstanding—who will soon be told they are not alone in the universe.
Anyone watching from the outside would pass by this fractured and tumultuous world, unless they had no other choice. Todd Landon is one of these people, living and working in a section of the world called the United States of America. His life is similar to those around him: home, family, work, friends, and a husband.
On the cusp of the greatest announcement humankind has ever witnessed, Todd’s personal world is thrown into turmoil when his estranged brother shows up on his front porch with news of ships heading for Earth’s orbit.
The ships are holding the Nentraee, a humanoid race who have come to Earth in need of help after fleeing the destruction of their homeworld. How will one man bridge the gap for both the Humans and Nentraee, amongst mistrust, terrorist attacks, and personal loss?
Will this be the start of a new age of man or will bigotry and miscommunication bring this small world to its knees and final end?
A New World-Contact
M.D. Neu © 2019
All Rights Reserved
The scene is a confrontation scene between one of the alien generals, Gahumed, and the leader of the alien race, Mirtoff. For me this scene is a lot of fun and it shows off these two powerful women who aren’t afraid to stand their ground.
Rádo (RA Doo) – The á is a hard ‘A’ sound.
Gahumed (Gah Mead)
Mirtoff (Mir Toff)
Tuma (Tu ma)
Candra (Can dra)
Dála (DA la) – The á is a hard ‘A’ sound.
J’Veesa (J Vee Sa)
Za’entra (Za En Tra)
Martween (Mar Tween)
U’Zraee (OO Zray)
Nentraee (Nen Tray)
“Madam Speaker, welcome to the Rádo.” The female officer stood and bowed.
“You honor us with your presence. I’ll let the general know you’re here.” The officer returned to her seat and started tapping on her terminal.
Mirtoff examined the reception area; unlike the civilian ships, this place had a claustrophobic feel. It was built for function, nothing more. She remembered when the ship was under construction at the Candra Shipyards. They barely had the drives working prior to the evacuation. It took five additional years to complete, but the end result was worth it.
“Madam Speaker. You can go in.” The officer bowed again.
Mirtoff bowed in return and proceeded into the general’s office.
The office wasn’t nearly as formal and polished as hers or the vice speaker’s, but it was bigger.
Probably needed to be this large for Gahumed’s girth. Or perhaps her ego.
Various monitors mounted on the walls ran status reports for ship-to-fleet control. This one office could manage the majority of the task force. The monitors displayed only the Nentraee Government Seal. The design comprised of seven gold patterns, each a symbol for one of the clans.
A bank of windows on the back wall showed a view of the internal command center. A large workstation loomed nearby, as did chairs and the conference table that could hold all the generals comfortably for any type of meeting. In this large space, the colors were drab.
I’m not a soldier. I could never work in a place like this. There needs to be plants or color. Something.
“Madam Speaker.” Gahumed offered a curt bow as she stood from her desk. She was a big woman, born for the military, with broad shoulders and a tall frame. Mirtoff was always impressed with how the general managed to keep her brown hair in such snug braids and an even tighter bun.
“General Gahumed. You run a remarkable ship. You should be proud.”
“I’m honored to have such a post within our government.” She tapped her workstation. “Dála, please, bring in two chilled cups of tuma.” She turned to Mirtoff. “You enjoy tuma, correct?”
Gahumed pointed to the conference table. “Please, come. Let us sit.”
Taking a seat at the table, Mirtoff waited for Gahumed to join her. “I assume you’re here to talk about my suggested plan for dealing with these humans?” Gahumed almost hissed out the word ‘humans.’
“I am.” Mirtoff pulled out her datapad and loaded the information, then swiped it over to the largest of the monitors on the wall. The image started with the Earth rotating. Once it hit the area of the planet she wanted, she zoomed in on a small island continent. The image moved in closer to a smaller island mass off the island continent’s coast. “Your proposal to occupy the area known to the humans as New Zealand is dangerous.”
“I don’t agree.” Gahumed rested her hands on the table. “I picked that area with defense in mind. It’s remote. The land mass is small enough, and we can easily control the surrounding space. They have a limited population of four point six million that can be relocated to Uztralia—”
“I believe they call it Australia,” Mirtoff interrupted.
“Regardless, they share a similar language and background. I don’t see an issue.” Gahumed brought up demographic information of her own. “New Zealand can be made to become sustainable for our needs and allow us business options with the humans.”
“A forced relocation won’t work.” Mirtoff’s ears started to swell and warm up.
Relax. Don’t let this plan anger you.
Mirtoff took a breath. “How will that help us build a positive enough relationship with them so we can conduct trade?”
“We could offer them helium-3 for the territory,” Gahumed countered.
“And what if the Australians don’t want four point six million new humans?”
“Why not?” Gahumed smirked. “They have the land mass, and from the reports, the two territories have good relations.”
“The issue, as I understand it, is none of Earth’s governments are willing to give up their territory to us—”
“Madam Speaker,” Gahumed interrupted, “they are a barbaric species that fight among themselves for land all the time.”
“And how would we be any different?”
“It’s not the same thing,” Gahumed said.
It’s exactly the same thing. You don’t want to see it. You’re a hypocrite.
“We can’t trust them.” Gahumed swiped her hands over her datapad. “They won’t work with us in peace and certainly we can’t trust them to be truthful with their motives. Despite what you and the vice speaker may think. We can easily go there and use our military to take over the area. Then we move the humans and make reparations.” She picked up her datapad. “Denes and my staff have run the scenario based on the information we’ve gathered. The losses were negligible.” She swiped the data up to the monitor.
“Yes, General Gahumed, I’m sure the work of your son is admirable and perfect.” She rubbed the tips of her ears. “Just like him—”
“Are you mocking the abilities of my son? He is a fine male with a brilliant military mind. He is the type of male that every Nentraee of his gender should strive to be.” Her full lips pulled into a stiff line, and her ears started turning an angry shade of blue.
“Of course, General Gahumed, he’s the perfect male. Unlike all others. We are all aware of this fact.” Mirtoff forced her gaze not to move from the general’s. How poor Denes lived with the pressure for perfection was impressive.
It’s possible, on that fact alone, he may actually be perfect.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, and as a full member of the Speaker’s House, I would expect better.” Gahumed didn’t bother to hide the tips of her ears.
This isn’t going well.
“My apologies.” Mirtoff offered a stiff bow. “You want to go to war with the humans for territory? That is not the way of J’Veesa.”
“Don’t assume to understand J’Veesa’s will. Your people don’t have the relationship with J’Veesa that mine do.” Gahumed’s ears flared.
Mirtoff kept quiet.
Your people. My people. What is the difference? J’Veesa sees us equally.
Gahumed swiped information to the largest monitor. Battle statistics filled the screen. “I don’t consider it a war, more of a forced relocation. We’ll be fine.”
“And if they decide to involve other countries?” Mirtoff rested her datapad on the table. “Then what? It’ll be the Clan Wars all over again. Haven’t—” She stopped and her chin dropped to her chest.
We’ve been through that once on our world. How can we force that on another?
“It’ll be nothing like the Clan Wars.” Gahumed sat taller in the seat. “Once, these humans see our military might, they won’t challenge us. They would lose even if they used their strongest military deterrents. It would be nothing like the slaughter that your clan caused back then.”
Mirtoff’s eyes shot up. “The Za’entra? They were fighting back your clan because they had no choice. Your clan and the Martween and U’Zraee clans were slaughtering them. It was only because of their numbers that they were able to endure. How can you say—”
“I speak the truth.” Gahumed slammed her hands on the table, causing it to shake. “You and your clan have always blamed us for that war. We never started it—”
The soft chirp of the door interrupted them. They both turned as Dála entered, holding a tray with two cups on it. She quietly placed a cup in front of each of them and left the room.
“I’m sorry, General Gahumed.” Mirtoff stood, the tips of her ears on fire. “I appreciate your proposal. However, I came to inform you that your suggested plan for New Zealand has been rejected. We will not risk war with the humans to gain territory.” She glanced at the tuma and then back to Gahumed. “I appreciate the offer of the cup of tuma. However, I’m afraid I can’t stay.”
“This is a mistake, Mirtoff.” Gahumed stood. “You’ll see when they resist the arm of peace that you and others in the Speaker’s House extend to them. My idea is the only one that can guarantee the safety of our people.”
“No, General. I would sooner leave this planet than go in and slaughter them.” Mirtoff headed out of the office, her hands in tight fists.
There is a peaceful solution. I need to find it and keep the military generals from forcing us into an armed confrontation. I won’t be the first speaker general to go to war with an alien race.
Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alfred Hitchcock and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.
Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man, he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.
When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric, his husband of eighteen plus years.
M.D. is giving away a choice of The Called or Conviction in eBook format to five winners during the tour