The Camper: First Contact and the Planet Tamer (The Stellar Universe Book 0)

by Richard C Holmes

  The Camper – First Contact

  The Stellar Universe

  Era 1 - Book 1

  By Richard C Holmes

  Copyright © 2017 by Richard C Holmes

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Please write to the author below for permission requests,

  richard@richardcholmes.com

  08 Feb 2018. First release

  ---oOo---

  Introduction

  Welcome.

  This book is about first contact between a camper in the remote wilderness and an alien. Interspersed are sub-stores of interaction of the new genus of the human race.

  If you are wanting space battles with rampant technology, or sex and violence, then sorry, this is not the book for you. Mostly.

  Rather, I would hope this is a happy book. After reading, you might wonder a little more, then return every now and then to see where this series leads the human race.

  “For the writer of a tale once dreamed, if you the reader can dream with me, then I would take pleasure from that.”

  Thank you, Richard C Holmes

  08 February 2018

  ---oOo---

  Preface

  In 2018 we can't help but feel nervous for the future of the human race, and this is a good decade. Others have been far worse. Whilst part of the human race lives in an era of peace and plenty compared to any preceding era in our history, significant portions do not and the reasons are ‘normal’ for us.

  We have a rich history of war, famine, civil, racial and religious turmoil, yet with all our modern technology we still have these scourges. There is no denying the human race its ability to be cruel to itself. We give the vast number of horsemen of the apocalypse regular free rein to do their work, to reign supreme over our worst periods.

  For decades we've sought knowledge of the fundamental building blocks of the universe and our understanding improves. We have an ability to disseminate information and create new knowledge as never before. We regularly say to ourselves ‘the science is in’ with vaunted hubris.

  As we look outward the question of 'is there alien life out there' becomes 'where is the alien life and how do we detect it' with myriad associated questions.

  Easily forgotten is that our single little planet is vulnerable. Pandemic, nuclear holocaust or scientific accident all imperil our race. It’s concerning that our survival may depend on our least stable politician, or most clumsy scientist.

  At the same time we are immersed in an environment we regularly find we do not understand as well as, in our arrogance, we thought. The impacts of foods, of so many forms of pollution, of solar radiation, of high density living all have an effect. There are so many aspects of our lives that we cannot say we understand fully. We like to say 'the science is in' but all it takes is time and a little effort to find new research that questions our knowledge.

  So with all these stimuli, is it any wonder we are are evolving.

  So began my thoughts on the Stellar Universe.

  ---oOo---

  Table of Contents

  The Camper. Part 1 7

  Alone in the Mountains? 12

  Friendships 17

  Endless Possibilities 22

  Of Roles and Responsibilities 25

  Moving Into The Future 27

  Kicking back 32

  Extinction 39

  A New Genus? 43

  Last Day Away 47

  First Interlude 50

  Practice 53

  Statecraft 69

  Taming a Region 84

  Diversion 115

  The Camper. Part 2 118

  The New Genus 120

  Second Interlude 125

  A Good Offer 126

  What Matters 145

  Retirement 159

  The Camper. Part 3 160

  The End or A New Beginning? 171

  Memories Old and New 176

  Experience the Wild 178

  A New Day, a Last Day? 182

  Third Interlude 189

  The Usual Suspects 191

  A Punishment Beating 192

  Collecting Nations 197

  The Camper. Part 4 203

  The Night Monster 205

  The Dance 209

  Planet Tamer 213

  Time Gentlemen, Time 216

  Epilogue 219

  Appendix-A. Dream With Me 223

  Appendix-B. Q&A. Kate and Super Powers etc 225

  Appendix-C. Richard’s Ramblings 233

  The Camper. Part 1

  Timeline AK -2 years

  Mike loved his trips away. His soul needed them.

  The trip to a remote valley in the high country was long and tiring, but getting on the road and heading out for a week away camping made any pain and effort seem insignificant.

  As soon as the suburbs were left behind to make way for the lush green paddocks he began to feel the peace and calm. To while away the hours traveling, he often sang along with music streamed from a memory stick through the SUV speakers, blasting out verses he remembered and having a fun guess at those he didn't. He had, in his opinion, a reasonable singing voice but not a great one. In a vehicle with the windows down heading into the bush, singing along with music blasting out was one of life's greater pleasures.

  Something that always came to Mike's mind was 'suburbs are best seen in the rear vision mirror.' He was a city dweller but not a city lover.

  As the time passed in his travel, Mike found himself wishing he was at his destination. He knew impatience was the enemy to enjoying his life as time was for enjoying not for wanting to pass faster, but it was difficult to resist the temptation. Even traveling in his SUV he was 'away' and time away was always best.

  His little four wheel drive was old and tired but every rattle, every creak and every little thing it did, Mike knew well. They were his squeaks and rattles.

  A decade ago he'd bought the little SUV new but now it had traveled a quarter of a million miles with much of it hard miles, down bush tracks or through river crossings. He’d had no idea when he bought it that such a modest vehicle would serve him so well. Indeed, the manufacturer and salesman would have advertised differently had they the imagination and confidence that their modest vehicle would survive such rigors.

  Suburban driving was a luxury for this SUV, asphalt an uncommon pleasure for the little vehicle after the work of a lifetime driving over tough pot holed tracks and fording streams.

  Soon enough the asphalt gave way to the dirt roads that climbed steadily into the high country then those roads peaked to finally deteriorate into rough tracks that fell into valleys below, nestling between ridge lines but still in the high country.

  Sometimes Mike was surprised there were any roads at all but the presence of even the small amounts of gold that had been found accounted for that. The main gold deposits had been hauled out a hundred years ago so only small amounts were left in increasingly hard to find places but after a heavy rain there might be a few pickings to be had, particularly with a gold detector. Now the roads were only used by logging trucks and the occasional park ranger or even a less occasional camper like himself.

  Some people might have called it a lonely place, and to them it would be as there might be no other soul within 50 miles, and if there was another soul present they could be 500 yards away and not know anyone was near.

  Mike was there not
to socialize but to withdraw, to reclaim his inner peace. In his teens he would have felt deeply suspicious of anyone saying they were 'finding themselves' but that was not what Mike was doing in the bush camping. He knew exactly who he was, there was no ambiguity in him. When he thought of it, he was perhaps more accurately 'grounding himself' or maybe even 'detoxing' but that was a bit too new age for his way of thinking. Mike was not a new age person.

  The reality was that after a few months working and living the suburban dream his need for the bush would grow to monumental proportions, dragging his attention away from everything else. As that happened his need to be away grew, festering, sapping his psyche.

  Finally after two slightly difficult river crossings where the water was only shallow, not quite coming up to the bottom of the doors, Mike found the side track to his camping spot mainly because he knew where it was; there were no signposts here. He had been here many times so he knew, or at least he thought he knew every piece of the simple dirt track he was driving on. It all brought back the happy memories of his many prior trips.

  This was the moment he had anticipated most keenly, and also the moment that held his one true fear. Looking carefully at the grass and the tall but thin saplings growing up through the shallow tire ruts, her saw there were no disturbances. He felt immediate relief that no one else had driven that way recently meaning his camping spot was at present unoccupied so he could have it all to himself, just the way he liked it. His one fear unfounded by reality.

  The faint track opened up into the middle of a clearing some 75 yards wide by 20 yards deep with a small creek not far from the edge, a short walk through bracken. He parked slightly to the left of the entrance where he usually did. Stopping the engine, the sudden peace and beauty of his camp site flooded in filling his little vehicle with peace through the window he’d wound down a few hours ago. Exiting the vehicle, stretching, he listened carefully to the bush whispering to him, the gentle sigh of a breeze sighing and moving the tree canopy. Nearby he could hear the gently burbling of water flowing over the rocks.

  It was a beautiful little slow flowing stream, filled with cold clear water that was refreshingly clean by itself but also made excellent coffee. It was free of the chlorination or fluoride taste from the tap water he knew he had become used to, disappointingly used to. His inner anarchist railed against the dulled senses from pervasive and excessive civilization.

  A very active hour later and the campsite was set up, which was pretty much essential as the day was getting into the mid afternoon. With the little valley he was in, nestled between high ridges, the late afternoon yielded quickly to the dark as the sun went below the ridge. When the sun went below the ridge the cold set in rather quickly as Mike knew all too well. Without fire wood he would have a cold night with a cold meal which was not something he had suffered for years.

  Shifting the fridge-freezer out of the four wheel drive, setting up the table and the cook top were all tasks that for many would seem like work but to Mike at the start of a week away it was a pleasure that took little time. As with all parts of this trip, Mike had done it many times on his many visits.

  Soon Mike was back into little vehicle returning along the dirt access track looking for firewood. After a short half hour, and of that only ten minutes with the chainsaw, the rear was filled with logs up to a yard long. A quick trip back to the campsite, then after unloading and starting the fire, Mike was nearly ready for the evening. A happy walk down to the river for some fresh water for the kettle and the washtub meant preparations were nearly complete.

  The final task was to setup the tent and his sleeping bag on a foam mattress which was simple. He had been camping many times and whilst he loved the solitude of remote area camping, he was not so naive as to think it would not be broken one day, and possibly be broken by idiots wanting to make his life difficult. After all this was a secluded place and the law was a long way off.

  Mike always brought a rifle with him he kept loaded and secretly tucked under the side of the foam mattress in the tent ready for use. It was licensed and he was legally entitled to have it with him here, but keep it secreted away he did. In his opinion it was always better to give a surprise than to receive one, especially if pain or death was in the offing. He was mindful of the lawlessness of the 'wild west' and being remote from civilization, a few hours from the nearest town, he was as close to being in the wild west as anyone on the planet.

  He told himself that if push came to shove and some idiot decided to make his life difficult, he would at least make someone’s life interesting for a short while. Hopefully a shovel and some hard digging would make that problem go away properly and remain undiscovered for a few decades hence 'not his problem' when the bones surfaced.

  Most important was the camp chair be positioned near the fire. His evening meal consisted of an already part-cooked stew he put into the camp oven then placed on some hot coals from the fire. This meant Mike's efforts came to an end just as the sun dipped then finally set below the ridge. The evening dark came quickly in the bush, the light faded then the temperature plummeted.

  After his hours on the road and the sudden exercise of setting up the camp Mike sank into the padded camp chair with a contented sigh. As the flames of the fire crackled and licked the dry logs and heated his meal, he felt the heat on his face whilst he sat staring idly into the fire then a contented smile grew. He just could not help blessing his lucky stars. Here lay perfection and his only thought was why he had not come here earlier. He'd been away far too long.

  The meal cooked itself, the heat from the fire and the coals warming it through bringing it to near boiling and then simmering gently for a short while. When asked by friends how he ate when he was camping his answer was 'usually better than most people at home,' which was quite true in his opinion. No chips, no pizza or highly processed fast food. After his hearty serve of beef stew in its delicious rich red wine sauce, cleaned up with a lightly fire-toasted bread roll washed down with a generous glass of dry red wine, Mike felt no pain. However a decidedly heavy set of eyelids did bring home the thought that early to bed tonight might not be a bad idea. That was the only thing wrong with 'first day' in camping, it went far too quickly.

  Tomorrow would come quickly enough so perhaps he could start some prospecting early in the day then later have a lazy afternoon with perhaps a nap in the chair following his light lunch. Then again he could just plain do whatever he wanted and enjoy every minute of it without feeling any guilt at all.

  It was with these thoughts that Mike quickly cleaned up, brushed his teeth, had one last look around his campsite as he slid into the sleeping bag in his tent for the night. What a pleasure, was his last coherent thought as he drifted off looking up at the stars, listening to the stream in the background quietly chuckling to itself as it flowed over the rocky creek bed.

  ---oOo---

  Morning came happily. He woke with a smile. Away in the remote mountain areas with the sound of the stream greeting him as he woke, Mike lay a while and just relaxed letting the sounds and the feeling fill him.

  He smiled some more. No sounds of cars. No neighbors horns tooting as they left for the day. Peace.

  After pushing some small sticks into the fire and kicking it into life with paper and a match, a light breakfast followed. Sitting in the comfy chair smelling the bush, the smoke, he felt the magic. It left him totally at ease, well, almost.

  'Almost' was the problem.

  Something was not quite right and it was irritating him.

  ---oOo---

  Alone in the Mountains?

  Something elusive tugged at his consciousness, nipping at his sub-consciousness and weakened his concentration. It was twisting and turning, not allowing him to bring his focus onto it to define just what it was, and that was frustrating.

  He rationalized it must be something he had forgotten, that was what it felt like. It was that nagging irritating feeling his subconscious brain sent out when it knew he ha
d made a mistake. Or at least, it was something very like that.

  He was a 'list person' and he knew that came with being an engineer.

  When he did a bush trip he worked to a list, checking things off as he packed them which had never failed him. His rational self knew the list had been checked off, everything he needed was packed so therefore these niggling feelings were even more annoying.

  Still, even after concentrating and trying to be as logical about it as he could, the feelings would not leave him.

  Something was wrong.

  A glance at the little four wheel drive confirmed that all the tires were still on it, properly inflated. Nothing silly was happening there. The table, the freezer and cook top with gas bottle were as they should be. No one had come into the camp last night to steal anything or do any damage, or at least not anything he could see. Yet the feeling grew as thoughts of his rifle and safety rose.

  This strange feeling was disturbingly unique for his favorite camping spot, a place of comfort and peace was how he thought of it. Mike knew all too well just how remote this place was, a good few hours from the nearest town. He’d never seen anyone here, the saplings on the access track never looked disturbed when he arrived, so no one had been here before him on any of his visits. A sharp glance at the track now revealed nothing out of the ordinary, with the only evidence of passage being his own wheel tracks. Nevertheless the unease remained, and remained unfocused toward anything in particular.

  Perhaps, Mike thought, it's the male menopause catching up at long last. Then, maybe he'd feel a hot flush later in the day? With a chuckle at the thought he leaned out of the chair to start his day.

  He’d planned some prospecting, some idle walking, a look along the sides of the creek and all the while swinging his fancy metal detector. Sometimes he found a little gold, just enough to keep him interested and he always enjoyed the chase.

  ---oOo---

  It had been a good day and the kind of day he would have looked forward to any day of the week when he was sitting in an office dreaming of doing exactly what he had spent the day on. He hadn't found any gold, but then again, he seldom did. That was not the reason he went camping, he went camping for the peace and the pleasure of being out in the wilderness.