The Cold War between the Kiiote and the Yown’Hoo has
become a shooting war. On Earth, there
are three Triads one each in Minneapolis, Estados United; Pune, India; and
Harbin, China. Protected by the Triad Corporation, they intend to integrate not
only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and
slaughter Humans and devastate their world.; but to stop the war that consumes
Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. The Yown’Hoo know about the
extra-Universe Braider, aliens whose own “civil war” mirrors the Cold War. The
Braiders accidentally created a resonance wave that will destroy the Milky Way
and the only way to stop it is to physically construct a sort of membrane that
will produce a canceling wave – generated from the rim of the Galaxy inward.
The Braiders don’t DO physical stuff on that scale – the Yown’Hoo-Kiiote-Human
Triads may be their only chance of creating a solution. The merger of
Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society may produce a stability
capable of launching incredible expansion, creativity, longevity and wealth –
and building the Membrane to stop the wave.
The young experimental Triads are made up of the
smallest primate tribe of Humans –two; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote –
six; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven. On nursery
farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and
Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two warring people to reproduce and
grow far from their home worlds. Grendl, Manitoba is one such place. No one but
the Triad Company has ever heard of it and the physical plant goes by the
unobtrusive name of Organic Prairie Dairy.
The Triads never hear of anything they aren’t spoon fed
in their luxury worlds and have heard only rumors of the farms and ranches. Surrounded
by a Humanity that has degenerated into a “duck-and-cover” society as the Big
Boys fight their war, the Triads don’t care about anything but their own lives.
Oblivious, cocooned, manipulated, they have no idea that their privileges are
about to be violently curtailed and all of their biology ransacked for the
correct Membrane pattern. (update: 2/13/2014)
The lieutenant came to my door and said, “What are you
doing?”
“Aren’t you going to drive?”
He swore, spat out the open door, and said, “Who’s gonna
ride shotgun, kid? Someone who doesn’t know a shotgun from a nose hair
scissors, or someone who can kill with a dirty look?”
I shivered down to my shoes at the look he turned on me. For
a second there, I figured he’d have killed me if he was told that’s what his
job was. I took a deep breath and said, “Our meeting you wasn’t chance.”
His head snapped toward me, pinning me under an intense
gaze. He pursed his lips grimaced, then said, “Point, young sir.” He took a
deep breath, adding, “Your escape from the Cities at this time has drawn the
partisanship of more than the Human community – certain Yown’Hoo and Kiiote have
taken an interest in your safety. Unfortunately, other Yown’Hoo, Kiiote and
Humans have planned your kidnapping for some time.”
“Why us?”
“Because the three Triads represent both change where none
is desired, and the very same Triads represent changes long sought. The Triads
are a drastic shift of paradigm for the aliens. Their cultures have been locked
in mutual near-destruction without a care of the damage they cause to those weaker
cultures all around them for nearly a thousand years.”
“They’ve been fighting for a thousand years?”
He turned his attention back to the road and said, “Drive,
boy. Now. Or you and I won’t be alive long enough of to continue this
discussion.”
“Why would we wanna do that?”
He shot me another one of his glances and it felt as if my
IQ had dropped seventy points. He flicked a finger out the door, “Left here and
step on it.”
“This thing’s electric – it only goes so fast! Especially
with Herd and Pack jammed into the rear of this thing like zoo animals.
His fist hit me in the chest so fast, I wasn’t even aware he
moved, only that I slammed against the seat back and couldn’t breathe. The
truck rolled to a stop and before I could get us rolling again, Lieutenant
Commander Patrick Bakhsh (ret) had leaned over to me and breathed in my ears, “Don’t
ever say that again. We act like animals, all of us at times. Any one of us –
Human, Yown’Hoo, or Kiiote – might snap the bonds of civilization and be fit
for nothing but a cage. None of any of us deserve such treatment.” I opened my
mouth, but the Commander’s gaze stopped it. “There are aliens who wish for
nothing but an end to this senseless war.”
“And others who would wish for nothing but the coldness of
the conflict be fanned into all-out war,” I added.
He nodded, gesturing down another street. I turned the truck
and the others variously cursed, yipped or whistled from in back. “Perhaps you’ve
actually learned something in that gilded cage of yours.”
“I know lots of stuff...”
The end of the street we were driving down exploded in a
fireball as a Human helicopter plummeted to the ground.
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