God's Dogs Book 2
Chapter 18

One of the great insights coming from the domain of developmental psychology has been an understanding of human development through various stages of consciousness or our ability to observe and deal with complexity. A common theme throughout these studies has been a transition from an egocentric to an ethnocentric to a global centric worldview. Each stage of development does not replace previous stages rather… each stage transcends and includes the previous stages. Rather than there being right and wrong worldviews, the earlier one was adequate and the new one is more adequate.

Chris Chittenden

The Galactic Congress spanned the galaxy. Dozens of regional centers oversaw areas thousands of light years wide. These regional centers collaborated with one another to maintain consistency in the administration of policy. Because of the complexity of that task, artificial super-intelligences (ASIs, of which there were fewer than a thousand) managed the information traffic flow. The races that worked at these regional centers were rotated periodically, similar to a citizen’s responsibility to show up for jury duty. Working at a regional center was a civic duty that each member world participated in.

As such, there was no need for a central government. Over the centuries, the advanced races discovered centralized governments fostered a zero-sum-game type of thinking among the government officials. They protected their cronies and helped them get rich – special interests were elevated over the general welfare.

Consequently, policies to support the general welfare came into being, regional centers supported those policies, and collaboration among the regional centers allowed the evolution of procedures to continue to support those policies as the Congress grew. ASIs oversaw the regional centers as they were considered incorruptible. The main policy the Congress advanced was to promote harmony through free trade.

Another policy was the patronage system. Younger races needed to evolve through a series of known developmental stages before they gained a ‘galaxy-centric’ worldview. This was more easily accomplished with tutors to point the way – just as it was easier for a child to learn to walk if an adult helped the child maintain his balance.

Humankind, it was feared, was either too far down the ladder of development to be considered for membership in the Congress, or too genetically programmed for domination to ever be considered for membership.

The latter was the view of some in the special operations communities, which included both the clandestine services and elite military units. However, the current conversations with the Coyotes threw that thinking out the window. The people of Penglai had not only climbed the developmental ladder further than most worlds in the Congress, they had also presented a solution for an alliance with the Congress that was in line with the core policy of harmony. The solution, though, was at odds with the accepted procedures of the patronage system.

Two days later, the Congress representatives engaged the Coyotes on that issue. The venue was the same, and the six questioners were apparently the same. It was hard to tell the aliens apart.

A Sentic asked them, “From what you told us, and from our other discussions with League representatives, you don’t think the patronage system is how you should join the Congress. We don’t fully comprehend your reluctance. The patronage system has worked well for a variety of species, some of whom are more warlike than your species.”

They were all sitting in chairs on the platform in the break-out room. The audience was full and included some renegade SpecOps leaders.

Quinn answered, “We do not value anything that is given to us. Paradoxically, we resent those who have risen above us through their own efforts. So my first answer is we would resent the civilization that sponsored us for those two reasons.”

Sensing the committee’s confusion, Moss elaborated, “If you gave us advanced technology, we would slide into dependency and resent you. If you coached us to invent advanced technology, we would feel like you were treating us like children, and we would resent you. If you stood back and let us figure it out on our own, we would feel that you were lording your superiority over us and resent you.”

“I see,” the Sentic said. “You cannot gracefully receive help or instruction.”

Quinn half-smiled at that assessment and answered, “Not past the age of majority. Once we are adults, we strive to achieve the goals our education prepared us for. It’s a narrow scope at that point, and we will learn as we work, but our focus is to achieve our goals. But contact with the Congress will be a paradigm shift in itself. Being assigned a patron would be unacceptable for many worlds for the reasons we listed, but other reasons as well.”

An elf said, “Your scientists enjoyed the conference here. Are they different?”

“Very much so,” Quinn replied. “Their job is the expansion of knowledge. The job for the majority of humans is in the practical application of knowledge – building houses, maintaining power grids, and so on. Radical change is not something we adapt easily to. Change that comes slowly and built on known principles we can adapt to.”

The elf carried the thought forward, “And if we introduce principles outside those parameters, the resentments begin.”

“Except for the scientists.”

“Those we could coach?”

“Yes.”

One of the reptilian members said, “We could have certain linkages with specific human institutions, rather than a broad and encompassing patronage for your entire race.”

“I think that would work,” Quinn said lightly. “What I hope for is one of those linkages is higher education, where our young people could attend your universities.”

“So that,” the elf went on, “over a few generations the resentment potential would lessen and perhaps fade altogether.”

Moss snickered. “We are good at gathering and hanging onto resentments, but it would lessen overall as our children adapted to your culture.”

“And what about the Coyote Program?” the bear asked. “We have already employed you. What do you see as your role in our society?”

“The same role we play in the League,” Quinn answered. “We are unique tools for unique problems.”

“You do not wish to compete with our existing special operations cadres?”

“No. We couldn’t compete, to begin with, because we will always be few in number. Secondly, we are a force multiplier for the existing efforts to solve the problem we are assigned. We prefer cooperation to competition. Even so, we are also independent of the chain-of-command once we are deployed.”

“That last assertion is what has bothered the SpecOps community.”

“We are results oriented,” Quinn replied. “However, we determine our strategy through a creative process and don’t know what we will do in any given situation until it’s time to do it. In both contracts we fulfilled for the Congress, the results were indicative of our normal way of doing things.”

“It’s that unpredictability that concerns many,” the bear said. Then the six beings looked to one another and seemed to come to an agreement.

The elf spoke, “We have determined the consequences for the renegade force that attacked you. With your agreement, you will be deployed with them – all of them – and deal with a problem. How that turns out will inform us on what our next steps might be.”

“In the meantime,” the bear said, “we will continue to engage with your theoretical scientists, and we will find a path for your graduate students to attend our universities.”

The lights came up and everyone headed for the exits.

Moss muttered, “I suppose they cleared this mission with Coyote central.”

“I suppose so,” Quinn said.

“This puts a while new spin on the idea of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer,” Moss commented as they left.

‘All of them’ turned out to be a platoon – three twelve-man fire teams, a five-man headquarters unit, and a six-man covert ops team. The Coyotes met up with them at the mission briefing that was held in the same break-out room they used for the investigation. This time the team sat in the audience section – notably by themselves behind the rows where the platoon sat.

The briefing officer was an elf. He was alone on the stage with a holo-projector.

“Good morning everyone,” the elf greeted them. “The royal family of the planet Masul is being held hostage. The hostage takers are from Berndt, with whom Masul is at war. The first part of the mission is to rescue the royal family.

“The second part is the Masul people have been trying to unseat the royal family and institute instead a limited constitutional monarchy. The royals have successfully resisted this change in government by various means, including declaring war on Berndt.

“We need an end to the war, as well as an answer for the constitutional crisis on Masul.”

The holo-projector fired up images of each race. They were hominids. The Masul race was lithe and graceful; the Berndt were thicker and more stable looking. Both wore colorful outfits and distinctive hats.

“The races have different patronage systems, and their immediate sponsors have a history of conflict but not recently. However, there is enough animosity between them where they have so far been unable to mediate the war between Berndt and Masul. Indeed, they may be prosecuting a surrogate war through them.

“The regional council feels the royal family is key to the final resolution to this persistent problem. The royal family carries symbolic importance to all four races, because their histories have all included a monarchy at some point. We don’t know how that symbolism can be manipulated for a positive outcome. That is for you to determine.

“Briefing packets are now available for download to your implants. The chain of command is as usual, except the Coyote team is independent and will be responsible for a mission you jointly decide upon.”

The elf shut off the holo-projector and stood for a moment facing them.

Then he said, “This complicated op is a chance for the platoon to redeem itself. It is also an opportunity for the Coyotes to prove themselves trustworthy to their staunchest critics. Furthermore, it is high time for this region of space to enjoy peaceful relations among its neighbors.”

The elf walked off-stage and left the room. A Sentic rose from the crowd and stepped onto the stage. He wore a shoulder pauldron of scarlet attached to his harness.

“I’m now ‘commander’ Charvo,” he spoke, “as I have been demoted. Also demoted to senior lieutenant is Ikel, my second-in-command.

“Review the briefing packets and be ready to board ship this afternoon. We will be using jump gate four. Travel time to Masul is three days. We will meet aboard ship for a strategy session tomorrow after breakfast. Dismissed.”

The lights came up and the platoon began filing out. Each squad was of the same species: Sentic, Silvertonae (elf), and bear. The team didn’t know the name of the bear-like race, and they only resembled bears superficially – rounded heads with ears on top, thick chest and arms. They walked upright with an easy gait and wore harnesses like the Sentic, replete with pauldrons of different colors. The elves were more fully dressed in tunics and pants. They stood just over five feet tall, whereas the Sentics and bears were over six feet tall.

Many of the exiting troops stared at the still seated Coyotes. It was hard to discern whether they were dirty looks or not, but the energy coming off the majority of them was hostile.

Eventually, the team left the building. Waiting outside were the two Guardians, still wearing their ivory-white bishop mantles.

“You guys going with us?” Moss called out.

“The council can’t make up its mind,” Barry answered with his version of laughter. “They left it up to you.”

“Do you think you could be an asset?” Quinn asked.

“Maybe by answering questions about you,” Barry said, “but not much else.”

“Then, no,” Quinn decided. “We need to do this on our own.”

“Understood,” Barry said “Good luck.”

Then they wandered off in a different direction as the team headed back to their rooms.

Their combat gear fit into two large containers that fit onto gravity sleds. Their personal gear fit in barracks bags they slung over their shoulders. After lunch, they hiked the short distance to the spaceport and waited a few hours for a shuttle to show up that transported them to a waiting destroyer.

Once aboard the destroyer, a rating showed them to the cramped cabin they would all share and helped them stow the two containers in the armory.

The ship was similar to the one they captured. Long passageways skirted the inner hull, both port and starboard, and a bulbous bow housed command and control, weapons, and the bridge. Stairs headed up and down to the three decks in the spine of the ship, and engineering was behind a firewall in the stern.

Down one level and not far from their cabin was a training room. They met up there to go over the details of the mission.

“Any ideas?” Quinn asked as they spread out on the hard-matted floor to engage in yoga stretches.

Pax answered first, “If the royal family is the key, we need to secure them and find out why they are the key.”

“And secure them away from both sides,” Moss said. “Neither side seems to like them.”

River added, “While, at the same time, guarding against friendly fire.”

“You think that’s likely?” Quinn wondered.

She looked at Pax, who shrugged and replied after a moment's hesitation, “There was animosity, but also curiosity and apprehension in the platoon when it exited the briefing. I think the guy I killed was one of their buddies.”

“Okay,” Quinn said, “we’ll factor that into the plan. How do we assault the palace, or whatever it’s called?”

“Use the grunts to attack,” Moss answered, “and we drop in from above and secure the family. Then we exfil in the confusion to a safe house.”

Quinn looked to the others, who nodded agreement.

Moss grinned. “It’s not rocket science.”

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.