she pouted, doing her best to look genuinely hurt around the playful gleam in her eyes. “No-one likes a sore loser, big brother.” Matakh’s only reply was to stick his tongue out at her playfully, which set them both to giggling.
As they opened the door, the sounds of the fountain and the soft scent of warmed fragrance oil washed over them like a cooling wave. Matakh breathed in deeply, letting the therapeutic scent fill his nose, before striding over to his desk. Opening one of the drawers, he hefted a blue binder from the many others stored inside and began leafing through the clear plastic sleeves, each of which contained a sparkling silver, gold, or bronze-colored coin.
Finally, he found a page with a vacant spot still available, looking bare against the shine of the coins around it. He smiled and placed a finger on the spot, then held up the Peace Commemorative to the light. It really was quite beautiful, pure silver, with a dove carrying a rose and olive branch on one side, and a planet orbiting a peace sign on the reverse. Engraved in small but clear letters were the words ‘Peace and Unity are the True Sources of Strength’. “That’s very true,” he thought to himself, slipping the coin into its new home. “A rare coin and a new friend. It really has been an interesting day.”
“And it’s only just beginning,” Meea said in response, locking eyes with her brother and giving him a warm smile. Matakh nodded and replaced the binder in its appropriate drawer before taking his sister’s hand. Together, they walked from his room and strode down the steps, unaware that their lives were about to be changed forever.
“This isn’t good,” Matakh’s father said solemnly. “Not good at all.”
Matakh looked up at his father with concern. “What do you mean, Dad?”
Kotaho sighed deeply and adjusted his reading glasses. “I’m afraid that we may be losing our unity.” He slid the paper across the table’s polished surface, and Matakh quickly reached out his hand to catch it. “Read the headlines.”
Matakh picked up the printed sheet and did as he was told. As soon as he saw the bold letters, his eyes widened in shock. Blaring from the page were the words ‘Race Tensions Heighten: Threats Exchanged!’
Looking up, he stared at his father in disbelief. “I don’t understand. How is this possible? We’ve sworn ourselves to peace!”
“Read on,” his father stated in answer. Matakh turned back to the page, reading the story below the headline. With every sentence he felt a cold pit growing in his stomach, and he slipped into an empty chair as his legs began to tremble.
‘For the first time in a century, Filius may be teetering on the edge of war. Disagreements over territory are heightening into threats of violence. Now a world devoted to peace may be on the verge of losing everything it has worked for.
Two weeks ago, the Tigers seized control of several mines of ovaritanium, which have proved to hold some of the richest deposits on the planet. In doing so, they threaten to corner the market on the mineral. Worse still, a number of these mines are in territories owned by other races, making their seizure an act that directly violates agreements between our peoples.
Negotiations between races have begun in an attempt to retake the mines controlled by the Tigers. However, they are unwilling to release their grip on them. In the words of their leader, Lucama Dario, “We have uncovered a valuable asset, and have taken it for ourselves. We were the ones who first discovered the deposits, and we therefore have a right to them. The fact that they are in the territories of others is irrelevant. They did not take advantage of the bounty, and we have therefore seen fit to take control of a prize they did not claim.”
The first serious threats were exchanged yesterday in a meeting between leaders and representatives of all races, including Cheetah Ezrachi Saticol, Leopard Jugo Makilla, Lions Ozmari Dafili and Galika Lukanol, Puma Omali Tuthur, and Lucama Dario. The delegates’ originally professional conversation grew heated after Lucama Dario commented, “If all you other kitty-cats are just going to sit around and complain, why don’t you just leave the business matters to the real felines? Namely us tigers.”
He then responded to an accusation hurled by Ezrachi Saticol by saying, “Why don’t you just take your spotted coat and hang it out to dry after you’re done mewling like a newborn kitten? You spotties are all the same.” This quickly flared tempers to the point where it seemed blows were to be exchanged.
Lucama continued hurling insults at the other delegates for quite some time, gradually raising the tension in the room. But the pressure reached a critical point with Galika Lukanol’s chilling words. “It seems as though diplomacy is once again failing. But why are we all sitting on our fat behinds and gabbing when we could be acting? It would be a simple matter to take what is ours back by armed force. If that is what it takes to end this fracas, I would not hesitate to rearm. After all, all we ever really gained we gained by action, not squabbling in a council chamber.” It was the first war threat to have been heard for a century.
As yet, is does not appear that any side is taking serious action against the other. However, as tensions rise, it is possible that conflicts of a physical nature could begin. Now a world devoted to peace holds its breath for what could become war.’
“It can’t be…” Matakh whispered in horror as he gazed at the last sentence. He shut his eyes and slammed the paper onto the table so hard that the salt and pepper shakers leapt a few inches from the surface before clattering back down. “They can’t just throw away our ideals over petty stones!” he blurted hysterically. “Why can’t they just resolve this diplomatically?”
Kotaho shook his head sadly. “I’m not sure, but I guess that it’s pride. The Tigers, Dario in particular, are too focused on wealth and power to see the folly of what they’re doing. And the other delegates are so embroiled in political jargon and policy that they fail to see the big picture. Whenever two rigid parties press against each other, something eventually snaps.”
“But war…” Matakh shivered. “Could it really happen, after so long?”
Kotaho just sighed. “I’m not sure. If our leaders can’t put their grievances aside and solve this peacefully, it’s a possibility. Frankly, it’s hard to say; I don’t know the future. All we can do is hope and pray that God will grant our world peace and strength.”
“But the Conglomerate,” Meea spoke up. “They’d never allow this, would they? Not after the mess that the Rival War caused.”
“Not to mention the Schism,” Matakh added, recalling the last great intergalactic conflict fought against the Milky Way. “There’s no way they’ll let another war break out.”
Kotaho looked at them sadly. “I wouldn’t hold out too much hope for an intervention from the U.C.,” he told them. “I doubt they’ll get involved.”
“But why?” Meea pressed.
“The Conglomerate has the entire civilized universe to worry about, thousands of systems and worlds. If war does start here, it will be considered an internal affair, outside of their jurisdiction. Unless the fighting spreads or other worlds get involved, they won’t be willing to intervene.” He sat back in his chair. “At least if war does break out, our family will stay together. I’m too old to be drafted, and Matakh is too young.”
“Let’s just pray that all of this goes away quietly,” Meea said.
Galika Lukanol sat in his office in the Filian Supreme Senate Building, leaning back in his leather armchair. “No appointments left for the
