Earth vs Alien

by Ronald D Thompson

  Robert needed to think and quick.

  ‘If I was to give you information that only you, at this moment in time, are privy to, would you release me so that we could discuss a plan, to win over this planet?’

  Qudor wasn’t a being of his word; he could easily agree and then renege. Then again, if the information was of such a nature that this pitiful Earth being could be of use, there was an option – to extract as much information as needed before feeding him his two Drayzaks, eagerly awaiting their next meal.

  ‘Enlighten me,’ said Qudor.

  ‘You are in love with Annaluce, the daughter of Daxzus Zaetsalsae. Furthermore, you have implanted a monitoring device into both her ear and her cranium. This will be your undoing.’

  Qudor was convinced; this wretched man would be an asset, temporarily. His curiosity got the better of him. ‘Tell me, how do you know this?’

  ‘I hail from the future, 2218 Earth time,’ replied Robert.

  ‘Via portal travel?’ asked Qudor. A clever question designed to draw out a reply that would divulge his opponent’s method of time travel.

  Robert was one step ahead. ‘It might be. Release me and find out. What might be more useful are the codes to the portal amplifier.’

  With a nod to the guard standing steadfastly beside Qudor during the interrogation procedure, Robert was released.

  Now the games began.

  ******************************

  Klade returned. He was home, back to the present, 2218.

  Colonel Jacob Adams eagerly awaited his return, if only to validate his story. He had seen enough of the year 2218 to know that he needed to return to 2018.

  Klade, Samuel, Maxius, Dr Laderman and Colonel Adams sat resolutely. The meeting was to establish two things; the validity of Colonel Adams and the whereabouts of Robert Stave. On the plus side, two of the three time capsules had been returned, a major victory in the battle to convince the Council of the Light that the humans were not actually a total liability. Each sat around the table, each looking out of kilter. It was an unprecedented meeting, the first of its kind, the situation becoming increasingly complicated. The humans of the year 2218, desperate to thwart the attempts of a certain Robert Stave to alter the present, whilst endeavouring to somehow administer the safe return of Jacob’s great-great-grandson Lace Adams. Jacob, on the other hand, was simply trying to figure out how to return home safely, to put behind him the nightmare unfolding, a nightmare no one in the 21st century would believe.

  Samuel decided to address the unlikely gathering.

  ‘Klade, let’s get down to business,’ began Samuel. His growth as an individual had been brutal. Gone was the naïve operative who worked at the Time Capsule Centre, enter the new individual, adept in the ways of a conniving manipulator and hellbent on obtaining information that would get the job done. His learning curve had been fierce.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it, Samuel − no disrespect,’ replied Klade. Jacob kept quiet despite the urge to intervene.

  ‘Exactly! That’s exactly what we are looking for from you, the other half of it.’ Samuel matched his sarcasm. He would not have dared question authority in the past, but these were extraordinary times.

  ‘Stave has gone AWOL. We have inherited a newcomer just to complicate matters. Shall I go on?’ replied Klade, equally as sarcastic.

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said Dr Kladerman, sensing that the meeting was rapidly turning into a verbal fist fight. ‘Can we please stick to the matters in hand? I think what Samuel was hinting at, was that we gather as much information as possible on the off chance that we can salvage something from the mess we have created. So, for the purpose of this meeting, could we try to stay professional?’

  ‘Hell, it’s 2218 and as a race we don’t seem to have moved on. Still bickering, still disjointed, but hey, I’m feeling more at home by the minute,’ observed Jacob, breaking the ice with some much needed humour.

  The tension in the room physically changed. This was not a battle; this was an opportunity to rectify matters. The positive – two out of three time capsules were back under their control; Klade had returned safely with important information as to the intentions of Robert Stave, even having acquired extra baggage in the form of Jacob; the only outstanding matter was that of Jacob’s great-great-grandson Lace.

  Dr Laderman continued, following the timely interruption from Jacob, to put this meeting on a more formal footing.

  ‘We have a decision to make, gentlemen. We are somewhat out of favour with the Council of the Light. In hindsight, we should have left well alone when Robert Stave sabotaged the operation, by murdering Colonel Alfred Patterson and come clean with the Council of the Light − damage limitation. However, that is now history, although in some ways history might not be as it was if Stave gets his way. The important thing now is to make the right choices rather than hastily trying to undo our errors. Klade, can we ask, what you believe, based on your journey back to the year 2018, exactly what threat Stave poses, in your opinion?’

  ‘The man’s a blithering idiot, that’s our problem. I mean, he steals a stealth bomber and heads off into the skies like a man deranged. Who knows what his intentions are?’ said Klade.

  ‘Maybe I can shed some light on this matter but, before I do, is there any chance I can look at some footage of my great-great-grandson and perhaps find out some information about the man?’ asked Jacob.

  ‘Of course, Jacob,’ said Dr Kladerman. ‘Samuel will see to that. Now what is it that you feel is important?’

  ‘He’s headed towards Antarctica, we believe. There is an awful lot happening in the pole area. We believe he is in pursuit of an alien craft which we held at the base, but which was stolen,’ replied Jacob.

  ‘Volkan, as expected,’ confirmed Klade. ‘That pretty much confirms our worst fears.’

  ‘One other thing, gentlemen,’ continued Jacob, ‘the tracker.’

  ‘Tracker? What do you mean exactly?’ queried Samuel.

  ‘The stealth bomber Robert Stave stole had a tracker. The tracker became traceless as the stealth neared a location that we believe was occupied by alien beings. It wasn’t the pole but some remote islands near Antarctica,’ said Jacob.

  Silence around the room. Maxius pondered.

  ‘It must be Qudor Volkan. Didn’t he disable the F16s as well as American and Russian stealths? He’s got Stave if you ask me,’ said Maxius.

  ‘Jesus, he’s going to mess with the timeline!’ shouted Samuel. Surprisingly, as technologically advanced as 2218 was, the term ‘Jesus’ was still a term to indicate dismay.

  A commotion erupted; expletives reduced a well-behaved meeting into chaos.

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said Dr Kladerman for the second time, ever the arbitrator. ‘Calm down. Let us think this through. Lace isn’t a problem as yet. Klade, to our knowledge, hasn’t done anything to suggest a major shift in our timeline, so we only have the one problem − Robert Stave. A problem, I might add, which arose the moment he sabotaged the time capsule. We are no worse off and, to some degree, have a chance to redress the situation. What we need to consider now is whether to, a) inform the Council of the Light, or b) try to change the outcome.’

  ‘We’ve screwed up once, sorry, twice,’ said Samuel. ‘I am all for coming clean.’

  ‘I should go back and sort out that freak,’ said Klade. Not a particularly helpful contribution.

  ‘Now, now, Klade, let’s keep this professional, if we can?’ urged Dr Kladerman again.

  ‘We send Jacob back. He will not interfere with the timeline as much as Klade as he belongs to that time and we don’t,’ suggested Samuel.

  ‘Elaborate?’ asked Dr Kladerman as a question.

  ‘Look, if he goes back to 2018, the day after he was transported to 2218, he can relay the outcome of Stave’s mission back to us − at least we will be more informed. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that Stave fails, in which case the timeline may not have been altered othe
r than the fact that Stave dies. Jacob will act as our eyes and ears,’ stated Samuel.

  ‘And I was just getting used to 2218,’ said Jacob.

  ‘Still think I should go back and finish Stave off,’ added Klade.

  ‘You didn’t even get past the military police at Area 51. My money’s on Jacob,’ said Maxius as Klade gave him the look of ‘let’s take this outside’.

  ‘I tend to agree,’ said Dr Kladerman. ‘Jacob is our safest bet. The only obstacle is the Council of the Light. If we send back Jacob, then he must return safely with the time capsule. The bad news, Jacob, is that there will be no return to 2018 once the task is complete. We have to return the time capsules if we have a chance of contesting the rightful ownership of our planet, which means you will have to return with the time capsule.’

  A bow of the head indicated that Jacob knew the enormity of that statement. He would never see his family again, his two young children and his wife. Did he really want to sacrifice his life in 2018 for a different future?

  ‘I’m in,’ confirmed Jacob. ‘Now, will somebody please show me who my great-great-grandson is, what he’s all about? He’s the only family I’ve got in the godforsaken place you call New Manhattan.’

  A hush around the room indicated that they knew his pain, the loved ones he would have to leave behind. Samuel glanced at Dr Kladerman and he nodded.

  ‘Follow me, Jacob. Let’s introduce you to your great-great-grandson, he’s a hell of a man!’

  CHAPTER 29

  SISTERS TORN

  Dane had returned again, triumphant. He rarely tasted defeat. The squalors were on board and he needed to return to Earth to hook up with Oosapeth. Elizan had other ideas. Anchorax returned with Dane. His taste for the high life was too much of a pull; he needed to be alongside Dane to return with him to planet Earth and sort out the logistics of transporting millions of squalors to see out the task ahead. In reality though, he had his eye on one of the waitresses at the previous function. After all, didn’t he deserve a treat? Dane, on the other hand, regretted his close association with Elizan. It was too soon after the charred remains of Annaluce unceremoniously appeared in the square in Larquiston.

  Elizan arranged the ball as dictated during her walk, on the wall, with her trusted second in command, Omalius. She sensed a change in the future of Zarduzian. Earth would be the perfect planet. She would select only a chosen few from the 37 capitals to join her on the mission to establish a footing on a new, rich planet. The trading, so professionally administered by her now deceased sister Annaluce, an obvious advantage to establishing herself as a formidable player; with Dane Vhastek in tow there would be no challenge from other family members to the existing portfolio and no challenge in the quest to claim a foothold on Earth.

  The banquet pretty much went as planned as a carbon copy of the first, only a few days earlier. Dane, this time, was more cautious. His mind was elsewhere, fixed on the task ahead. Anchorax and his human companions all thoroughly enjoyed the festivities, as expected. Dane sat next to Elizan, also as expected, and the topic of conversation? Earth.

  ‘We must prepare,’ said Elizan, without being specific.

  ‘Prepare?’ quizzed Dane.

  ‘Yes, Earth. We must prepare.’

  ‘I’ve said before, it is too dangerous. Look what happened to your sister.’ Dane’s translation headset worked perfectly.

  ‘I gifted you the squalors.’

  ‘Not exactly gifted, more allowed me an opportunity to try to win them over − Zaagans who you have ostracised, I might add.’

  ‘That may be, but without my permission there would be no opportunity. I have to protect my investment. This is an opportunity for the Zaagan elite. It is my duty to explore the opportunities. I can be your ally, side with the humans and offer much needed back-up.’

  ‘I don’t need any more back-up,’ corrected Dane. ‘I need to get the job done.’

  ‘So, how exactly do you intend to move millions of squalors?’

  ‘Haven’t figured that out. That’s why I need to get back. I need to speak with Oosapeth and see how this all fits into the war plan. Anchorax is the only ally I need at the moment.’

  ‘The squalors could turn against you. You need to move them quickly or they may become unsettled. Isn’t it easier if we help? We have the portals right here in the main square. We transport them using our craft, as needed. If I travel to Earth I can orchestrate the mass migration. Using our craft means you are not allocating valuable war ships in the mundane movement of foot soldiers,’ explained Elizan.

  Much to Dane’s dismay, Elizan made sense.

  ‘Tell me, I’m intrigued,’ continued Elizan, ‘why exactly did you think our outcasts, the squalors, would be of any use?’

  ‘The death bait games,’ replied Dane. Elizan had a look of total confusion on her pretty face. Her puckered lips and squinting of the eyes in bemusement caught Dane’s attention.

  ‘They kill death baiters with primitive but effective weapons. Death baiters swoop, just like Drayzaks. Squalors form in packs to bag a death baiter for they have no fear. Humans are too domestic and, with their main military arsenal out of action, courtesy of Qudor Volkan’s electromagnetic waves, primitive is good,’ said Dane.

  ‘Do the humans know your plans?’

  ‘They will do when I’m ready.’

  ‘Think about it,’ said Elizan, gently stroking Dane’s inner thigh. ‘With my father and sister both dead, I am the perfect ambassador to convince the humans that we are now truly an ally, that we are fighting alongside the coalition.’

  Elizan was persuasive. Dane could not risk mutiny amongst the squalors. He contemplated and took a gulp of the wine on offer at the elegant table. Looking around he could see the influence the elite of Larquiston were having upon his squalor ally, Anchorax, the humans − Patrick and Demitri and his crew warriors. Perhaps he did need Elizan by his side, if only to use her craft for transportation. He turned towards her with gold goblet to his lips, took another gulp and, with a heavy hand, put the goblet back on the table.

  ‘We set off first thing,’ said Dane.

  ‘We still have the night’, thought Elizan.

  ********************************

  Dane arrived at the ice caves around 10am Earth time. Oosapeth, who had returned from the space station and eagerly awaited the return of his ally, heard the rumble and asked James Eaton to check it. A long walk down the corridors − expertly sculptured as an ice cream scoop might leave a perfect trail − leading down to the portal bay. The craft instantly recognisable, its occupant predictable.

  Dane Vhastek.

  The under section of the craft descended and there were six figures who emerged, led by Dane. James instantly recognised Dane; that was easy as he was by far the tallest. At his side walked a female who, whilst unrecognisable, seemed oddly familiar. Finally, his two friends Patrick and Demitri were just behind Dane and, at the rear, two Undarthians. Dane walked swiftly towards James, the female struggling to keep up. Dane was in no mood to waste time. James always admired him from that first moment in the killing chambers, the hair a sight to behold, his physique unrivalled; he was always a welcome sight.

  Dane held out his right arm for the ceremonious clasp of the forearms, a sign of respect.

  ‘Has Oosapeth returned?’ asked Dane.

  ‘Arrived back over 24 hours ago. There’s been a development but I’ll let Oosapeth explain. Where have you been?’

  ‘Long story. Let me introduce you. This is Elizan, Annaluce’s sister,’ said Dane matter-of-factly.

  James gave a confused look. Following him a short distance behind was Serenix. Lately, wherever James wandered in the ice caves, Serenix wasn’t far behind. The new arrival would cause friction in James’ opinion; aliens had the same jealous streak as human females.

  The introduction was swift and Dane wasted no time navigating the corridor towards the war room, the rest following like sheep, including James. Serenix, almost caught i
n the wash of bodies, stepped aside, clasped James’ hand and gave him a look.

  ‘Who’s the female?’ she asked.

  ‘Annaluce’s sister by all accounts,’ replied James through his translation helmet, although the past few days together in the ice caves had shown promise in teaching Serenix English as was his observation – aliens catch on quicker − he was convinced that in the next few days he would have no further use of the translator.

  Oosapeth greeted Dane in the same fashion as James, neither wanting to waste time on small talk. Oosapeth didn’t even enquire of the female.

  ‘You were longer than expected,’ said Oosapeth.

  ‘Long story, we need to talk,’ replied Dane. ‘James, could you see to our guest, make sure the troops are fed? We’ll catch up in a while.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ agreed James. Serenix gave her father a look, a clear indication that she disapproved at the snub in the direction of Elizan. Looking directly to Dane, James’ reaction was, ‘Shouldn’t you introduce our new guest?’

  ‘Oosapeth, please meet Annaluce’s sister, Elizan. There are others to follow in another craft. We need to talk privately,’ said Dane, getting back on track to the business in hand.

  The war hologram looked busy, Oosapeth’s men were studying the logistics. This war was messy and Qudor was quickly gaining territory. Dane hadn’t helped with his delayed return. James ensured that the warriors and guests were led away, leaving the two to talk privately.

  Serenix linked with Elizan for a female was welcome in this male-dominated environment.

  ‘Whilst you were away I secured a base,’ said Oosapeth, ‘a space station. It was a prison colony spacecraft. One slight problem, I could only secure it if we took on the prisoners. Can’t be any worse than the squalors though. I assume, of course, that you have secured their services,’ said Oosapeth.

  ‘Done, but there are conditions. Elizan has offered to transport the army of squalors, I couldn’t resist. Frees up our craft to attack from the skies,’ admitted Dane. ‘There haven’t been any specific demands in return for this assistance, but we will deal with that later when the terms are laid out.’