by Don Cook
“Toni made us sign the contracts to dissolve the band legally and properly. Then, even though she did not actually evict us, Toni told us in no-bull uncertain terms she was through with us, and asked us to leave after we had done school. And so, we all helped to clean up and fix up Toni’s place, paid her the money we still owed her, and then we all moved out.”
“Why did you two want to live in the same house in the first place,” Mike asked, confused, “let alone be in a rock band together?”
“It started out alright between Ronnie and me. We became fast friends, even the oddest of besties. But eventually, we grew to despise each other totally. Ronnie and I haven’t spoken to each other since.”
“I’ve heard of nasty breakups,” Mike said, “but yours sounds like it was an ongoing catfight-apocalypse!”
“What real catfight isn’t?!” Khraa/Astra said. “Anyway, all this took its toll on my health. A few months before I graduated, I found out I had Crohn’s Disease.”
“Wow…” Mike said. “That must have hit you hard.”
“You could say it was literally a blow to the gut! Still, with careful medical supervision, I managed to complete my Advanced Filmmaking program and made my capstone short sci-fi comedy film titled Visit to a Surly Planet. I graduated with honors, and was admitted to hospital the day after graduation.
“After college, I was ordered to rest and not do too much, even though I wrote some awesome feature film scripts,” Khraa/Astra said, “but I couldn’t sell one alphanumeric character’s worth of screenplay. I couldn’t get any work in my chosen field, so I did the only thing I knew I could do. My Mom and Dad, knowing my condition, helped me get moved back to Canapaq. I got a job at the town’s meat-packing plant in sales. At least, I had a job…” Khraa/Astra paused, waxing somber. “…until one day, when I went out of town on company business — Canapaq Double-Whammy Day.”
Khraa/Astra became sadder than she was sour, as she related the day of tragedy that changed Astra Downey’s life forever.
“That day, a fire destroyed the Canapaq plant at the same time a local chemical train derailment occurred. Both disasters combined killed most of the townspeople, including my parents, ended the town’s existence, and resulted in the arrests and conviction of the plant’s owners and most of the town’s government officials.”
“And where does The Bull-Free Truth with Astra Downey come in?”
“Since Canapaq’s double-disaster, Mike, I used the money I inherited from my folks, bought a small Winnebago RV, equipped it with a satellite dish and other media equipment, and I’ve used it ever since as my media mobile. The RV is where I often record my Bull-Free Truth with Astra Downey podcasts for upload to the Internet.”
“So,” Mike said, “you really get around. No wonder you’re practically on top of a story either just as it breaks or just before it does.”
“The RV’s my edge,” Khraa/Astra said. “And it sure costs less.”
“I get it.”
Khraa/Astra and Mike finished their meal. Mike looked at his watch and asked, “Enjoy your dinner?”
“Yes, Mike,” Khraa/Astra said, “it was super! Now, about that movie theater that runs all science fiction films?”
“I recalled from some of your past podcasts that you’re a sci-fi lover. Still interested?”
“Sure. Why?”
“If we leave now, we’ll get to the theater I had in mind on time and catch the double feature,” Mike said. “It’s all a matter of time.”
“How so?” a puzzled Khraa/Astra asked.
THE SPACE OPERA MOVIE THEATER
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
10:53 PM CENTRAL TIME
“I still can’t believe it!” Mike said, as he and Khraa/Astra left The Space Opera, a large, old single-screen local theater that played classic and recent science fiction films every night. They headed for Mike’s mid-sized late model car, talking with each other as if they had just left a date movie.
“What can’t you believe?” Khraa/Astra asked, her curiosity brimming over about what Mike had just told her.
“Here I thought women craved chick-flicks like Pretty Woman, or anything else with Julia Roberts, Jennifer Aniston, or any of those Sex and the City stars, not sci-fi! What makes you love sci-fi so much?”
“Well, Mike, I’m a big sci-fi fan because sci-fi says a lot about our world in ways other genres just can’t” Khraa/Astra said. “And besides, I’m ‘Ms. Not-Like-The-Others.’ Pleased to meet you.”
Both laughed as they continued their post-movie romantic stroll.
“Seriously, Astra. I love what I see in you, but I don’t get you. Oh, well, guys usually don’t get women anyway.”
“You know, Mike,” Khraa/Astra quipped, “the reverse is true, as well — whether women deny it or not.”
They stopped talking as they looked lovingly into each other’s eyes as they strolled.
“Still, I don’t think I ever met a woman quite like you, Astra. A lovely young lady with the wisdom of the ages.”
“I know. And it’s made me lonelier than Hades among my spoiled-brat, air-headed generation.”
Mike, who had encountered many women of Astra’s generation in his travels and found Khraa/Astra a refreshing change, kindly understood her plight of uniqueness among generational peers who were often unimaginative conformists.
Out of kindness, he asked, “Care to talk about it, Astra?”
“Well, Mom and Dad taught me that wisdom doesn’t come from mere words on dead tree pulp” Khraa/Astra said, speaking from both her own unearthly viewpoint and the one she acquired from Astra as she died. She found Mike’s understanding honest and reassuring as she continued, “It’s their meaning that counts.”
Khraa/Astra paused and gradually waxed sadder and sighed before she continued, “You know what bites like a king cobra, Mike?! That wisdom you see in me had made me sooo unpopular among nearly all the girls and most of the guys back in high school and college. Only God-fearing geek-guys who refused to go atheist, and several older guys who were smart and decent enough to women, they were good to me. They thought I was awesome.”
“You were blessed that way.”
“Yeah, but every gift has its price. Many of the older guys complained ad-nauseum about their exes. Those that didn’t usually were still single, and just plain lonely. Still, give an older guy half a chance, he could be awesome. But that’s me. As an FBI guy, I’m sure you see tons of the worst of guys of all ages.”
“And I usually have to slap the cuffs on some of those worst guys. But I’m not one to deny the validity of any woman’s experiences, bad or good. By the way, how old was your oldest beau?”
“Umm…” Khraa/Astra said, looking back into the memories she acquired from Astra. “I think that guy was a London, Ontario resident, who was actually slightly older than you.”
Khraa/Astra picked up on Mike’s sensitive hesitancy.
“And yes, Mike, I love older guys for them, not their gold.”
“Wow!” Mike said, in reassured astonishment. “You are different.”
“I mean it! If someone you loved was rich, but suddenly lost all their riches… Mike, it’s the gold in a man’s heart that counts with me, not how much he’s got in his financial portfolio.”
Mike was touched and felt that his love for “Astra” might be good and right, after all, as he and Khraa/Astra arrived at his car, and he opened the front passenger door for his younger date.
“You are truly a special lady,” Mike said, before he and Khraa/Astra shared another long, romantic silence. Khraa/Astra got into the front passenger seat and Mike walked to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.
As Mike closed the door, he said, “Seatbelts!”
“You don’t need to tell me,” Khraa/Astra said. “I’ve covered too many accidents where the victims didn’t buckle up, but would have been alive if they had.”
“I most heartily agree.”
Mike started the car and drove h
is date back to —
BELLA VILLA APARTMENT COMPLEX
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
11:43 PM CENTRAL TIME
“I was wondering, Astra,” Mike said with trepidation, as he escorted Khraa/Astra back to her apartment, “would you like to see me again?”
“Yeah!” Khraa/Astra said ecstatically. “Despite the age difference, we connect as if we were literally made for each other. You’ll call?”
“How about 7 AM?”
“Call me at 7:30, and it’s a deal. I record my daily podcasts and then upload them before 7:15.”
“I’ll give you a ring at 7:30, then” Mike said. “Good night, Astra, and sweetest dreams.”
“Bonne nuit, mon cher” Khraa/Astra said with romantic sweetness, as she entered her hotel room.
Once Khraa/Astra entered her hotel suite and closed the door, Mike looking up as he said quietly yet aloud in pastorally prayerful gratitude.
“Thank You, Lord, for the lovely date I had with Astra. I pray, despite the age difference, for more lovely dates with her. I humbly ask for this in the name of the Father… And of the Son… And of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Mike walked towards the elevator, with a more youthful spring in his step.
APARTMENT 1214, BELLA VILLA APARTMENT COMPLEX
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
11:50 PM CENTRAL TIME
“Survival Log, Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem recording” Khraa/Astra began her daily survival-log entry as she sat at her laptop. “When someone finds something wonderful in the midst of the chaos, unrest and upheaval that characterize Earth at this time, one should embrace and cherish it to the full. And the love between a man and a woman is definitely no exception.
“And from this scientist’s standpoint, in addition to that of a woman pleasantly in the bliss of new love, what I experienced with the new man in my life, FBI Agent Mike Bonhoeffer, has pleasantly proved the following:
“(Alph) Earth’s alleged human populace and our own humankind are indeed of the exact same familial and genetic stock, descended from Adam and Aevaa, or Adam and Eve, as they are commonly called on this planet, despite secular ridiculing denunciation and deception to the popularized Darwinist-Socialist-Atheistic-propagated lie. The lovers’ attraction Mike and I experienced could never happen naturally between two beings of different species, as it did with us;
“(Bett) Mike and I inspired hope within each other. He and I are both widowed persons. He had been trying to deal with the loss of not one but two spouses by burying himself in his work and his family, unable, as Earthers too old to be major fans of The Matrix franchise might say, to ‘stop and smell the roses.’ (Oft-technophilic members of ‘Generation Matrix’ tend to be unable to appreciate life’s simpler things.) I was widowed recently with the murder of Isokk, along with the rest of my family and expedition back on Rubiaar IV, so (albeit with my keeping quiet about my true self) Mike and I could relate; and:
“(Gamm) Mike and I share so many of the same interests, values and so vastly much more, that I am still trying arduously to believe it, but I love it! No further details for Point Gamm are needed.
“As for life on Earth,” Khraa/Astra said, waxing more realistic, “yes, there are still escalating tensions between nations, especially in relation to that classic national cup of trembling known as Israel. If the nations of the Earth realized it would be better to leave Israel undivided and let its capital city of Jerusalem alone, peace would get a better chance, John Lennon or no John Lennon.
“People have been driven into a frenzy that they cannot get out of, it seems, from the standpoint of this theolenvironanthropsociopsychologist. Life on planet Earth is such a nightmare that even a certain piece of jokey yet still semi-sage advice — to maintain one’s sanity in an insane situation, one has to be crazy — is now a questionable tactic. Today, the Biblical man called Job would have gone postal, to use a recently common Earth-phrase. A real-life Johnny Fever would be crying his head off with a Peter Finch-style rant of outrage like his anchorman-character had shouted in the video-play Network! It will take a mega-miracle for humanity to survive its current troubles.
“But as to my own future, rescue or no rescue, Mike is quite the love-prospect. I would love to be his love-lady, and he my love-lord. But it is still best not to take things too quickly. Thankfully, Mike and I share that value, as well. Love, faith and hope arise eternally. For now, I will say just this one thing: End of entry, date-time stamp — subjective timing.”
Khraa/Astra ended her log entry, and in a pleasured dreamy state, readied herself for bed.
Once she lay in bed, Khraa/Astra, like Mike, also said in romantically dreamy prayerfulness, “Dear Redeemer-King, I know not whether you, Yeshvah, and this Jesus Christ of Earth’s Holy Bible are one the same god, but whether you are or not, I ask you, my Divine King, as well as you, Father-Creator, and you, Spirit Supreme, to bless my life and Mike’s by uniting he and I as love-lord and love-lady, and that my new name will soon become… Khraa-Veh ven-Bonhoeffer.”
Khraa realized her situation that involved Mephistula and knew she could never free herself completely from that.
“And dear Deo…” Khraa/Astra concluded her prayer, “Please… help me to learn whether or not Mephistula and Mallory Stanton are one the same. In the name of the Father-Creator, and of the Redeemer-King, and of the Spirit Supreme — Sobyit!”
Khraa/Astra slipped off into her nocturnal slumbers, feeling less secure than she did a moment before.
Chapter 6
TREACHERY NEVER TAKES A HOLIDAY
As stated in previous chapters, psychonautics (a telepath’s ability to travel beyond the body through spacetime) is a unique, exhilarating experience. Telepaths who practice psychonautics in out-of-body spaceflight have often made invaluable discoveries in astrography [i.e.; astronomy], astrophysics, astrobiology and similarly key discoveries within and beneath the rocky crust-surfaces of planets and within their oceans, lakes and other water bodies. Psychonautics has also been used in the treatment of post-traumatic stress disorders common among victims of sexual and non-sexual assault, various forms of child abuse, military and police combat, and so on…
As is a matter of course (and on progressive worlds, in accordance with their laws), to ensure that persons so gifted use those gifts to prevent them from endangering themselves, other persons or creatures, a telepath must receive, with the utmost kindness and understanding, the proper telepathic ethics counselling and training in the use of their abilities from the moment they are discovered to be telepathic.
However, such an amazing god-gift has been exploited by intelligence-gathering agencies from all governments of all realms for espionage. And also, ironically, in some cases, such psycho-overhearing has also saved many a telepath’s very life...
Dr. Khraa-Veh, Sub-Lieutenant, KERC
Understanding Telepaths: A Clinical Guide for Kannatikans (University-level textbook, excerpts)*
She saw the vast expanse of the Andromeda galaxy before her, as Khraa/Astra swam-flew across spacetime in an out-of-body experience that was common among her own people, but would alarm those on Earth.
Sadly, Khraa/Astra thought to herself, my Earthly neighbors will just have to be kept ignorant of such a thrilling talent. And I must, as many Earthly Christians would say, keep it hidden under a bushel, (or, as many Terrans, Christian and non-Christian alike, would say, “keep it under wraps.”) She knew that if she revealed this gift, she would be put in a “madman’s wraps” or straightjacket. Or worse.
Khraa/Astra thought-swam her way back into the Milky Way galaxy, home of the Earth where her body peacefully rested in bed. Oh, well, as the Earthman Shakespeare would have said, all good things must come to an end.
As she swam-flew back towards Earth, Khraa/Astra psych-probed the lives of the Native American teenagers she had helped out back in Cloquet, Minnesota. To her delight, she saw that each of them was, bit by bit, building a good future for him/herself. Each of
them was actually not doing well for him/herself, but were also paying it forward by helping other people from other demographics do well for themselves, too.
“That’s paying it forward!” Khraa/Astra thought to herself. “Way to go, kids!”
Khraa/Astra’s soul then approached the red supergiant star the Earthlings called Betelgeuse. What she saw in that star system terrified her. She noticed that a very large “super-Earth” planet, kept deftly hidden from Earth’s astronomers, was, weirdly enough, dotted with towers that would dwarf Earth’s tallest skyscrapers ten times over, and that this hell-like world was inhabited by a bat-winged race of beings that strongly resembled both the aliens in fantastic fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke’s novel Childhood’s End and the ultra-dreaded yet semi-fabled Mephistulian Shrions birthed entirely by Mephistula.
Is this where the Shrion capital planet existed in the vastness of spacetime —?
Without warning or explanation, Khraa/Astra suddenly found herself in the den of Stanton’s posh Washington home, listening to Stanton speak with Eggers over her speaker phone, hearing both sides of their conversation across the ethers of telephony.
The clock on the wall of Stanton’s home read 8:30 PM Eastern Time the night before, when she and Mike were out on their dinner-and-movie date. Stanton was seated in her office swivel-chair.
Then and there, Khraa/Astra saw that Eggers was Stanton’s mole, planted within the FBI to spy and gather intelligence for Stanton, and that the terrible twosome appeared to be plotting and planning something nefarious, as Stanton rose from her chair and paced about furiously like a panicky executive. But what brought her here to see what they were up to? Was this chat all about —?!
“Astra Downey!” Stanton shouted angrily at Eggers as she paced in a mad huff. “That monkeying wench threw a monkey wrench into my strategy during the press conference and with that man-on-the-street poll earlier today! Even snakes aren’t that sneaky!”
