The children! The recent images haunted him and he knew they always would. The soldiers had taken down the tents and dismantled the buildings, going so far as to throw away the food and tear the toys from children’s hands.
The screams and tears of the children rode his soul while the desperate faces of the men who were forced to watch sliced his heart. The women of the neighborhood had been in various states of shock and fear, but one in particular stood out in his mind. She had been some distance away from the main action, clutching her crying baby. He had just had a warm bottle, pretty toy and soft blanket snatched from him by the soldiers and screamed in rage.
The look on the mother’s face would be in his dreams—nightmares—for the rest of his life. She didn’t scream or cry. She simply stood there, holding her distraught child while watching the soldiers take everything—an absolute picture of defeat. She had no hope left in her heart, and Whelon felt bad that he had given them hope in the first place.
When the ship docked, he went straight to the main rec room near the med bay.
Grace and Carla stood to embrace him, but he waved them away.
“You have the news on?” He looked for usual screens and found them dark.
“We thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see,” Carla murmured.
“Switch it on!” He knew his voice was too sharp, but he couldn’t temper his tone.
Grace pushed a button on the remote and pictures flashed across the screen. Every channel showed the military taking down his clinic. The crying, angry humans were being painted as victims, led astray by Preor lies. When one cameraman zoomed in on soldiers breaking a pile of colorful toys in front of sobbing children, it was reported that the toys were dangerous or contaminated and had to be destroyed for the children’s own good.
He had no words. He simply stared at the screen in disbelief, never having seen such idiocy in his long lifetime. Just when he began to wonder who had ordered the military into action, the broadcast switched to a press conference at the White House.
A senior politician held down the podium, fielding questions from reporters. Whelon did not know much about human politics, but he had never seen this male before.
“I do not know much about this—is that the President of the United States?”
“No,” Grace scoffed. “He’s a patsy.”
“What?” Whelon honestly wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly.
“She means he’s being set up to take a fall,” Carla explained darkly. “He probably got promoted from a basic position into some department head this morning. The only official statement is that authorities are investigating the situation and that while that is being done, the military has the power to move on any Preor and their equipment until a final solution has been reached. They have announced there will be a proper political meeting of both sides—a fair hearing.”
“Why would they promote him specifically to take him down?” Whelon was truly confused by humans.
“Because whoever held the job before him values their ass,” Grace told him. “They put in a guy like this, who takes the job thinking he can handle things and come out on top. Then he gets up and sways to whatever opinion is popular at the time, so afterward they can throw him to the dogs and say he was confused, misguided, uninformed, acting without authority… blah, blah, blah.” She shrugged.
Whelon was lost for words once more. He could not believe humans used their intelligence and skills for such horrible ends.
The news flashed to a scene in the city, near Preor Tower. Sasha’s mother stood in front of a small crowd and Whelon shuddered at the sight of the hateful female.
“You all know the horrors that have befallen our beloved Sasha.” Jenna shook her head mournfully. “She is still in bed, recovering from this horrible Knowing sickness the Preor use to bend innocent women to their will.”
She is not recovering, he thought furiously. She is dying!
Whelon sensed his own body growing colder by the moment. He was losing touch with the throb of his heart and the flow of air through his body. Until he claimed Sasha, the Knowing would keep stripping him of vitality. At least he had energy to spare, vast reserves that came from the other half of him being a ten-ton dragon.
Sasha has nothing, no one, he thought desperately. She’s dying on the surface while her mother uses the situation to exploit her further!
Before he could think about it anymore, the speakers buzzed and crackled in a way that made him think of someone clearing their throat.
“Penelope,” he murmured dully.
“Whelon, it looks like Melissa is going into labor. She is only having mild contractions, but Chashan is worried.”
“I can’t get there,” he answered helplessly.
“I didn’t want to tell you… Chashan said…”
“Spill it, Penelope!”
“All right. I think it’s only going to piss you off further, but here we go… Ellie is having complications and Charlie won’t let anyone near her. Dawn is capable of calming the little rat, but right now he and Ivoth are in such a state they won’t let anyone in the room.”
“Curse him for his stupidity!” Whelon growled. “Ivoth should know better!”
“He and the Quasti have melded or something, I’m afraid. They bonded over their protective instincts for Ellie and now are working themselves into a highly agitated state. Dawn can’t handle them both. If she distracts Charlie for a second, Chashan can drop Ivoth with a sedative. Then, hopefully, Dawn can calm Charlie…”
“Hopefully?”
“They can’t do this without another healing master, Whelon.”
Grace and Carla both sat quietly, feeling Whelon’s mounting frustration at the situation. They could say nothing that would help him now.
“I have to go down there, military orders be damned to the stars,” he whispered to
