The Trafalgar Gambit (Ark Royal) by Christopher Nuttall Page B

could settle a world and develop a colony without further contact from the homeworld.  Maybe they believed in allowing a colony world to build up its population before they started to turn it into an industrial powerhouse.
     
    “We believe that all races start in the waters,” the alien said.  It definitely seemed to have mastered English.  “Did yours not?”
     
    “No,” Henry said.  Technically speaking, humanity’s very distant ancestors had crawled out of the waters, but he had a feeling it would only confuse the aliens if he brought that up.  “We started on the land.”
     
    “But you killed one of our people,” the alien said.  It was impossible to tell if it was speaking of Jill personally or humanity in general.  “That is not the sign of a peaceful race.”
     
    Henry shuddered.  The alien had died ... and its compatriots had mounted an immediate counterattack against what they’d assumed to be a hostile raiding party.  A tragic mistake had rapidly turned into a nightmare, with tempers running high on both sides.  And yet ...
     
    “You didn't attack us at once,” he said.  It was impossible to be sure, but he suspected that Jill had been a prisoner for over a year.  But no one was quite sure when Heinlein had been destroyed.  “Why not?”
     
    There was a long pause, as if the alien was mentally debating what it should say.  “War Faction stated that war was inevitable,” the alien said, slowly.  “Peace Faction outvoted.”
     
    Henry’s eyes narrowed.  There had been no shortage of human political factions that had turned a minor incident into a major crisis just to secure their own power, but he had the odd feeling he was missing something.  The aliens couldn't be that close to humanity, could they?
     
    Jill uncrossed her arms.  “Which faction are you?”
     
    “Peace Faction,” the alien said.  “Further attacks did not come.  Suggested shortage of hostile intent.  War Faction unimpressed.  Found your worlds.  Attacked them.”
     
    Henry considered it, slowly.  “The War Faction believed we were hostile,” he said.  “And so they planned a war against us?”
     
    “Yes,” the alien said.
     
    “And the Peace Faction did ... what?”  Henry asked.  “Why didn't you try to talk to us?”
     
    “Consensus for war,” the alien said.  “No talks until threat removed.  Threat proved harder to defeat than War Faction believed.  Attempted to convince War Faction to talk.  War Faction refused.  Attempted to talk to you directly.  War Faction intervened.”
     
    Henry remembered the alien cruiser, killed by another alien ship, and shivered. 
     
    “War Faction is locked on war,” the alien stated.  “We must talk.”
     
    Henry looked down at his hands.  He might have been intended to serve as nothing more than a figurehead, but he did have a working knowledge of politics and diplomacy.  It was impossible to be sure, once again, yet he thought he understood.  The War Faction had believed humanity to be a threat and convinced the rest of its race to support preparations for a short victorious war.  And the other alien factions, assuming there were more than two, had gone along with it.  They might not have viewed humanity as a lethal threat, but they might have wanted to negotiate from a position of strength or even support the war in exchange for other compromises.  Henry had seen enough backroom dealing in Buckingham Palace to know that votes could be bought, often for the most surprising prices. 
     
    And then the war had gone badly and some of the aliens had started having second thoughts.
     
    Jill frowned.  “How was the decision made?”  She asked.  “Who voted?”
     
    Henry looked at the alien, interested. 
     
    “All voted,” the alien said.  “But voting blocs split.”
     
    Henry puzzled over the statement, then pushed it to one side until he had more data.  The alien clearly thought he understood the underlying