by Don Cook
YUKANOOK TERRITORY, KANNATIKA (LIGHT-EONS FROM EARTH)
SAME MOMENT
The incoming signal alert flashed red and sounded with a blaring klaxon.
“Look at this!” shouted platinum short-haired Level-2 Warrant Officer Makk-Mikk with a chuckle to hard-boiled bald Master Warrant Officer Syam-Lekree. “It’s a distress-signal, obviously coded.”
“Mackie,” Lekree sneered in disbelief, “did you say, a coded distress-signal?”
“That’s how it checks.”
Lekree snarled loudly, “NOW THAT’S THE MOST PERDITIA-KHRUNG-FLINGING PIECE OF STUPIDITY I’VE HEARD COME FROM A SUBORDINATE! ARE YOU SURE IT’S A CODED DISTRESS-SIGNAL?!”
“Heavily-coded,” Mikk said, “but with a security prefix-slate.”
“Put it up on the Big Board!” Lekree shouted.
“Yes, sir!”
Mikk sent the distress-signal to the main screen. The slate read as follows:
WHICH REALM WAS THE VICTOR IN THE NORTH AMKERIC BORDER WAR OF 1742?
(ALPH) KANNATIKA
(BETT) AMKERIA
(GAMM) NEITHER — IT ENDED IN A STALEMATE
(DELT) ALTERNATE ANSWER (PLEASE VOCALIZE IN DETAIL)
“This has gotta be a sick joke!” Lekree said, in snorting disbelief.
“I doubt it” Mikk said. “I know of only one person —”
“IF YOU MEAN KHRAA-VEH VEN-ELHEEM,” Lekree shouted like an angry drill sergeant at Mikk, “THEN STUFF IT DOWN YOURSELF AND NEVER SAY HER DAMN NAME AGAIN! SHE’S AN UNMENTIONABLE! DO YOU WANT TRUDIERRE’S SHRIONS TO COME AND CROP OFF YOUR HEAD AND GLUTIES?!”
“Yes, sir!” Mikk said with a salute. “But what about the signal?”
“Yes, that!” Lekree said. “I think it calls for a response. Press option ‘Alph.’”
“Yes, sir!” Mikk said, as he pressed the “Alph” key on the Base computer’s master keyboard — and unleashed a catastrophic massive cyber-attack on all systems on base, which caused the room to fill with a constellation of sparks, fire and smoke!
As Warning Base 3-Gamm’s systems were neutralized and destroyed by the cyber-virus, the same cybernetic malady was transmitted immediately across the entire newly-Shrionized Kannatikan Defense Communications network. It also caused massive severe pan-Kannatikan damage and the complete deactivation of Kannatika’s entire civilian and military government cyber-infrastructure… all because of an incorrect response to the defensive cyber-protocol embedded in the distress-signal sent across light-eons of intergalactic space by the “unmentionable” Khraa/Astra.
Meanwhile, back at the darkened base where the massive cyber-attack had inadvertently originated, Lekree said angrily at Mikk, “Smooth move, laxxer-man!”
Lekree clobbered Mikk over the head with his duty-cap.
Survival Log, Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem recording using telepathic deep-sleep mind-speech, Khraa/Astra spoke telepathically into Blue 1’s computer, allegedly asleep as the Aircrane helicopter ferried her, Mike, his family and Bambi to an uncertain destination.
Am now in transit to the unknown ranch of Mike’s friend and ex-CIA Director Jim Stock, Khraa/Astra mentally continued, or at least, I presume he is the man to whose ranch we are being transported by heavy-lift helicopter. If Mike and Jim can help me fight Mephistula, Earth may be saved along with the rest of the Universe. If not… End of entry, date-time stamp, subjective timing.
* * *
* Also printed as a sub-chapter of Shades of the QLO Crisis: How Pot-Trudierre Murdered Kannatikan Democracy in One Night, Printing #1, by kindly joint-permission of Lady Veh ven-Bonhoeffer and the publishers.
Chapter 10
NEW ALLIANCES FORGED
FROM: Konnall-Trombart, President of the United Star-systems of Amkeria
TO:Patt-Makarrth, Admiral, Gold-Class, AMKEXPRA/Sixth Starfleet
DATE:09-04-1949 [N.U.E.]
RE: Proposed Rescue Party/Combat Taskforce Earth for the rescue of KERC Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem:
Since the reception and successful decoding of the distress-signal sent by KERC Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem, much controversy and excitement has been generated within Amkerian governmental circles, despite successful efforts to suppress the news of the signal’s reception.
However, one day ago, it has been learned by our intelligence operatives in Kannatika from signals transmitted just before Kannatikan Wheeled Police Emergency Tactics officers had murdered them, that despite the utterly destructive cyber-attack as a result of their improper attempts to decode the distress-signal recently auto-transmitted by Captain Veh to Known Universal space, the Kannatikan Armed Forces, heavily aided by the Shrion Empire, are mounting a very small yet effective invasion fleet for either Alph) the full conquest of planet Earth, or Bett) total annihilation of said Earth and its planetary system.
And that while the cyber-attack has thoroughly incapacitated Kannatika’s ability to mount such a small invasion starfleet, Trudierre has reactivated older, outdated, yet still effective techno-protocols to implement such an invasion. All that would be needed to send a Kannatikan starfleet to Earth and arrive there before we or any of our allies could send such a rescue party/combat taskforce would be an order from my office to deploy such a taskforce. As it can be imagined, the results would be disastrous.
Because of these developments, an alternate plan must be created and enacted. Since we have a lock on the signal, which, thankfully, our Kannatikan neighbors still do not, one possible solution to this matter is the ultra-long-range teleportation of a small Advisory Taskforce of eight persons (including yourself, Admiral) in a teleport-capsule to Earth after the establishment of either neutrino-radio or neutrino-video contact with Captain Veh, and arrangements for the covert teleportation of said team to Earth.
Would like to discuss this matter with you and your aides as soon as possible...
Excerpts from Platinum-Alph Secret Memorandum
From the Office of The President of the
United Star-systems of Amkeria
PERSONAL HELIPAD, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
26 JUNE 5:12 AM CENTRAL TIME
The dawn of another Texas day slowly broke, as the Aircrane helicopter that was ferrying Khraa/Astra, Mike, his children and Bambi slowly and ominously came in for a landing on the oversized helipad of rancher James “Jim” Stock’s heavy electronic security-ringed Three-Cross Ranch, a 1,000-square-mile spread roughly equal to that of the fictional Ponderosa Ranch in the TV series Bonanza.
Jim Stock, a cultured, tall, thin bearded man often fondly spoken of as the “American James Bond” in intelligent circles worldwide, awaited the Bonhoeffers and their friends in a shed near the helipad. More correctly and affectionately spoken of within the UK’s MI5 and MI6 as “Danger Yank” (after the main character in the British 1960s TV series Danger Man, which aired in the USA as Secret Agent), Jim’s personality and morality was more like that of Danger Man’s lead character, John Drake, than that of James Bond. Ever a staunch Christian, Jim even detested the fictional Bond, and came to utterly dislike any actor who played him. Even UNICEF-charitable Roger Moore was in Jim’s “lesser books.”
As a result of the Watergate scandal, Stock, an altruistic pragmatist from a conservative pro-Republican Texas family of old oil and cattle wealth, decided at that time to help any higher-level US government security employee who had been betrayed by their own government, as well as certain non-American security agency people betrayed by theirs, as well as foreign defectors-at-risk.
Jim had also been a father-figure of sorts to Mike throughout his career. Now, as Jim knew, and as the Aircrane was landing, Mike pulled in a favor that was right up Jim’s alley, although at a much higher level of challenge.
The Aircrane slowly descended onto the helipad, and once it touched down, its rotors slowly ceased their coordinated mechanically furious rotation. The rear of the trailer opened as Jim went to greet Mike and his fellow guests, especially to greet the alien Khraa/Astra with an anticipation s
trongly akin to that of a child awakening on Christmas morning to open his or her presents.
Gently cerebral long gray-haired, horn rim-bespectacled Jewish-Russian physicist-defector/ranch hand Dr. Immanuel Yosef Goldshtein, whom Jim helped to defect from the former Soviet Union because of his “religious heritage”, walked alongside Jim to meet Mike and entourage, also eager to meet the comely cosmic visitor Mike mentioned. Also walking with them were Jim’s amicable full-figured redhead wife April (also an ex-CIA agent), and graying Black Panther radical-turned-matronly devout charismatic Christian and grandmotherly horse trainer Abby “Grandma Hades” Marley.
“Mike!” Jim said with a smile.
“Jim!” Mike said with a grin as he and Jim shook hands. “How’s Jack High?”
“He and his family are safe, Mike” Jim said. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Mike!” Dr. Goldshtein said in his normal semi-thick Russian accent, as Mike approached him and shook his hand. “Mike, old friend!”
“Glad to see you’re in good health, Goldy!” Mike said to Dr. Goldshtein.
“All this living in the Texas wide open spaces does me lots of good!”
“I’ll bet it does!”
“Uncle Jim!” Donny said. “Am I glad to see you!”
“Glad to see you guys, too!” Jim said to Mike’s offspring.
“So, where’s the space-girl you told me about?” Dr. Goldshtein said, before he noticed Khraa/Astra’s uncomfortable facial expression.
“So, Jim,” Khraa/Astra asked, “just how secure is this ranch?”
“Don’t worry, dear truther” Jim said. “This whole spread is ringed with a security system that would make Big Brother drool.”
“I think it would be best if we talked it all in your living room, Jim” Mike said, not wanting Glenn, Val and Donny to be unprepared for the truth about Khraa/Astra.
“Good idea, Mike. Yawls came a long way by chopper, and you must be mighty tired. How about we get you all set and ready for a power snooze?”
“I’m all for that. How about the rest of you?”
“You think?!” Donny said, which made everyone else laugh.
“Thank God!” Glenn said. “I need some shut-eye!”
“We all need it!” Val said.
“Amen to that!” Bambi said. “Us California girls need our beauty sleep!”
Everyone chuckled.
Khraa/Astra said, “But first, this Astra needs to make another podcast. Even on vacation, news never takes a vacation. Could you set it up so I could go back to my RV to record and upload my daily Bull-Free Truth podcast?”
“Sure, Astra. Just drive your RV out of the trailer next to the horse stable over there, and you connect your RV’s electronics to the barn’s systems so you can record and upload your podcast from there. No one will detect where it’s coming from because my ranch’s security system is that advanced.”
“Really?”
“I love your podcasts, and I’d hate for the world to miss out on them.”
ASTRA DOWNEY’S RV, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
6:59 AM CENTRAL TIME
“That’s right, people!” Khraa/Astra said as she recorded her daily Bull-Free Truth podcast from her RV. “An FBI Agent tried to get me on completely bogus charges under the so-called ‘Bumstead-Sheen’ Act! But there is no Bumstead-Sheen Act!
“This FBI Agent, whose name was Austin Eggers, tried that fast one on me, counting on an assumption of my ignorance! This ‘Agent Eggers,’” Khraa/Astra said, making quote-unquote hand gestures, “wanted to frame me and hang me out to dry! He died later that night under circumstances unknown, and so, I have gone into seclusion-on-the-road as I’ve often had to do lately, people!
“This kind of false arrest under bogus laws is the kind of dirty tactic Stanton and her New World Orderlies pull every day! But the wall of bull-crap is coming down brick by brick! Keep up the pressure! That’s the only way for America to take back its freedom from these business-suited Establishment thugs who have practically turned the once-respectable blazer-and-tie suit into the new black leather biker-gang jacket! Keep exposing the layers of liars and their packs of lies. That’s the only way to keep ourselves free. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance!
“That’ll wrap it up for now. And remember to pick up or order some Freedom Tea from Frank Ben’s Patriotic Foods among other survival stores you’ll need for when the manure hits the fan mega-big-time, as well as their helping to pay the shot for these podcasts. Until next time, this is Astra Downey saying, be well, keep safe, stay free and God Bless!”
Khraa/Astra uploaded the podcast to the Internet, using Jim’s special communications and surveillance system. She then left the RV and went outside to the innocent-looking radio-barn where her RV was parked and connected by thick cable to the barn that, despite its on-the-surface use as a horse stable, also served as the central building for Jim’s extensive telecommunications, security, and surveillance system underneath the structure.
Jim operated the system that allowed Khraa/Astra to upload her podcast from a small side-shed attached to the barn. When the upload was complete, Jim walked out to greet Khraa/Astra.
“That should do it” Jim said. “Whenever you want to upload a Bull-Free Truth podcast, just let me know.”
“Thanks, Mr. Stock” Khraa/Astra said.
“Please, call me Jim. Besides, do I look like some pointy-eared hob-goblin from Star Trek to you?”
“What do you —” Khraa/Astra quickly saw that “Mr. Stock” and Mr. Spock” sounded eerily alike, and thus, understanding Jim’s quip, laughed as she said, “I get it! Okay, Jim. And thanks again. I’ll let you know when I’ll be uploading again.”
“Patty,” Trombart said to Makarrth and his team of aides as they conferred in the Oval Chamber, “I have considered your request for the deployment of a combined Rescue Party and Combat Taskforce Starfleet to Earth. After careful consideration, I have opted to put that plan on delay.”
“But why?!” Makarrth asked in exasperation.
“There are many things to think about, Patty. If we went to Earth with an armed-to-the-full Taskforce, the repercussions would be disastrous.”
“But Lord President —”
“First, there is the threat we’d face from Kannatika. Trudierre is waiting for us to make a move like sending a Taskforce to Earth. When they do, they will pounce, possibly even before we could reach Earth-space. And then there is the matter of Earth itself.
“From Captain Veh’s assessment, Earthlings are a highly paranoid and all-too xenophobic people at this time. You do recall, Admiral, the panic caused by that radio-casted audio-play titled… uh, The Battle of the Worlds?”
“You mean, The War of the Worlds,” Makarrth said, “with Orson Welles as The Mercury Theatre on the Air’s lead performer and driving force behind the audio-play.”
“Thank you. You do recall from the data embedded within the distress-signal sent by Veh, the massive panic that the people of the American nation-state became caught up in because of this dramatic radio-cast, despite ample promotional disclaimers and advertisements ahead of time stating that it was merely fictional?”
“I do, Lord President.”
“And that almost four Earth-decades later, British video-casters placed on their video-air a docudramatic video-play of a New World Order-type conspiracy called Science Report: Alternative 3?”
“The TV successor to radio’s War of the Worlds” Makarrth said.
“The premise of that video-play was so scary, Patty,” Trombart said, “that enough Britishers actually believed that there was such a sinister backup human community on Mars. Consequently, the originating media outlet’s telecom system was bombarded with paranoid viewers’ calls — all over a video-drama?!
“For that reason, Patty, American media outlets chose not to air the Alternative 3 video-drama on their broadcast-airs because, especially after the Watergate Scandal, the Vietnam War, the corrupt Johnso
n and Nixon Presidencies, and other national problems in Earth’s USA. American media outlets feared that such a newscast-like video-drama would have Americans believing that hoax far more so than their British fellow humans did! With Earth in that kind of paranoid mass mind set, we cannot afford to send a combat Taskforce to Earth at this moment. But I have an alternate plan in mind.”
“And that is?”
“We have pinpointed Captain Veh’s astrographical position and can establish contact with her fairly soon. Since a full rescue-combat force might be too risky now, I would like to teleport a teleport-capsule over to planet Earth with an eight-member scout-team to assess the planet and the situation, and to determine the best course of action.”
“Yes” Makarrth said. “We can do that.”
“How soon can you have a teleport-capsule and a scout-team ready?”
Makarrth was delighted as he informed Trombart, “I’ve taken the liberty of making such preparations, and we can have a teleport-capsule ready in no time, ready to be warped over to Earth-space at a moment’s notice. All we have to do is to establish contact with Veh herself, send such a team to assess the situation, and make our next move.”
“You’ve got a deal, Admiral!” Trombart said. As Makarrth walked towards the door, Trombart told him, “You know, Patty, you are a risker!”
Makarrth stopped just short of the door and said, “I know.”
“And Patty… if I was in your uniform, I’d have done the same thing.”
“Why, thank you, sir!”
“The god bless” Trombart said.
“Likewise to you, Lord President!” Makarrth said, as the door slid open.
At COMSMOCOM’s Strategic Monitoring Center one Earth-hour later, a young, 20-something-seeming female COMSMOCOM operative, radioed towards Earth, “This is COMSMOCOM to Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem, COMSMOCOM to Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem. We have received and acknowledge your distress-signal. Contact COMSMOCOM immediately! I repeat to Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem, CONTACT COMSMOCOM IMMEDIATELY —”
RANCH HOUSE, THREE-CROSS RANCH
