Earth vs Alien

by Ronald D Thompson

  Oscar was impressed.

  For the next hour the rebels discussed the plan, raised questions, adjusted the plan slightly if needed − the hologram acting as the blueprint to take back control of Earth.

  Oscar took a moment to check out the underground operation that Zak Lancelot had so expertly built up over the years. Around the room were signs of technology that certainly weren’t of human origin. Scattered around were all sorts of strange hardware, alien hardware depicted by hieroglyphics. Strange metals not of this planet were being scrutinised, squashed in huge presses to test their durability, whilst in other sections these metals were being subjected to immersion in acids − Oscar assumed from the smell that the acid emitted was likely sulphuric, surprisingly, it seemingly had no effect. Other areas had bits of alien craft; Oscar thought to himself that it resembled some kind of retro garage. The news bulletin played out in the background, a screen that split into 20 smaller screens showing various news outlets, both human and alien. Zak obviously kept a keen eye on the activities outside of his hideout.

  Oscar felt strangely proud. The plan was in place and in just three days the plan would be acted out. Oscar considered this event with both excitement and total fear.

  The ‘war of the aliens’ was now a reality.

  CHAPTER 35

  ANCHORAX RETURNS

  Anchorax was faced with a dilemma – does he tell Dane of the back stabbing antics of his so-called ally Oosapeth or does he trust this back stabbing alien enough? Will he simply use him for his military resources whilst secretly planning to make him a victim, as Dane Vhastek?

  Some time had elapsed and all had returned to the ice caves that, due to Dane’s selfishness to try to find Annaluce, had put their hideout in jeopardy. The tension was unbearable. The humans were clearly reliant on the aliens; Serenix was feeling uneasy about James’ involvement in the war games; Scott, Bella and the others were equally perturbed; Oosapeth was playing things cool, if only to disguise his treachery and Dane was feeling ever more guilty that he had been acting inappropriately; all of which made it easy for Anchorax to put into plan his next move.

  ‘I need to return to Zarduzian,’ he stated almost matter-of-factly.

  The look around the war room was almost nonchalant abandon. There had been so much drama; the group of mixed aliens and humans were at a stage where they could no longer handle any internal bickering.

  ‘I’ll come along with you,’ said Dane.

  Anchorax shook his head. ‘I’m returning to secure the support of my people. It seems to me you have more important things to worry about − the destruction of these caves by Qudor Volkan for one thing.’

  ‘He’s right, Dane,’ agreed Oosapeth, who was sure that this was an act of allegiance to his cause by Anchorax, meaning Dane would clearly be a liability. ‘We have to evacuate these caves immediately.’

  Dane knew it made sense; his infatuation with Annaluce had derailed the operation enough.

  ‘I will need a craft. I’m going alone,’ stated Anchorax.

  With a nod, two of Oosapeth’s guards headed towards Anchorax, to escort him towards the portal bay.

  ‘Safer if you return to Colony 7 following your trip,’ said Oosapeth. ‘I’ll ensure the co-ordinates are input into your craft.’ An order acknowledged by the guards escorting Anchorax.

  ‘I’ll need to square things with Elizan.’ Anchorax’s headset perfectly translated his message as it occurred to Anchorax that this technology was special. Each headset of each recipient translated his own words into their specific language. It also occurred to him that only a short time had passed, yet he was becoming accustomed to technology which would have astounded him before and yet now, it was all very normal. Not only had Anchorax embraced the technology, he was also embracing his newly appointed power. He wasn’t just a squalor fighting for survival; he was a player in the fight for a piece of planet Earth.

  **********************

  Omalius walked through the great hall. He had been summoned to a meeting with Elizan. Surrounded by the munika he waltzed into the meeting room, his face beaming. This could only be good news.

  ‘Take a seat,’ insisted Elizan, her somewhat revealing gold and white dress illustrating once again to Omalius that Elizan was a perfect specimen. The five guards escorting Omalius, dressed in their customary black menacing attire, almost couldn’t look at her beauty for fear of being reprimanded. She revelled in the power she possessed, enhanced tenfold by her stunning appearance. ‘By the look on your face I suspect that you might bring good news.’

  ‘Maybe,’ replied Omalius cautiously.

  ‘It’s impolite to keep a female waiting,’ retorted Elizan.

  ‘Your father was quite prolific, as you know. The killing chambers were once full of captured aliens before being horrifically disposed of.’

  ‘Spare me the details, Omalius, and get to the point. I’m having lunch any moment and I would like to maintain an appetite.’

  ‘Quite,’ replied Omalius, realising that this was not the time for an elaborate delivery. ‘Well, we do have quite an extensive dossier on each of the planets your father was hoping to acquire for resources, usually involving the Trollozytes to clean up the mess left behind. What we have found was your father’s obvious desire to assess and possibly ally with, other known warmongering alien species. We believe that he was looking for some insurance should his relationship with Oosapeth break down. Quite ironic in the circumstances.’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes! Could we get to the point?’

  ‘There is a species, a planet, around seven light years away – a remote planet called Ommon and the species are known as Drakonians. A rather primitive species, not dissimilar to humans, maybe a little inferior. Anyway, their planet is in disarray − it seems imminent that annihilation is on the cards. What’s interesting is that they are massively overpopulated. Resources are drying up, which is why Daxzus saw the potential in using their military powers, rather than raping the planet of what was left of their natural minerals.’

  ‘This is all very well and good, Omalius, but have you contacted them?’

  Omalius turned and nodded to one of the munika guards who opened the door. A short, very stocky alien entered the room. His garment represented an inferior species: a red and white dishevelled war-like attire with a red breastplate obviously battle worn, over a short sleeved white undergarment. A kilt, consisting of leathery strips seemingly intertwined with metallic finely woven chains for sturdiness, finished off the look with heavy black boots.

  ‘Let me introduce you to Eugenell Spartok, from the planet Ommon,’ said Omalius who, judging from the initial reaction of Elizan, might need to work a little harder to convince her that he was a genuine contender.

  Donning the technologically advanced headset, the alien dropped on one knee, punched his chest with his right hand and hollered what sounded like a war cry; quite intimidating to those observing.

  ‘Please sit,’ insisted Elizan.

  The warrior sat.

  ‘It seems that your father grew quite fond of this species. Indeed, he withdrew his intention to clone and concentrated on an alliance, which he conveniently kept to himself. This species knows all about our superior technology, gifted by your father. It seems that they hold us in high esteem. Quite refreshing, wouldn’t you say?’ said Omalius.

  ‘Speak,’ insisted Elizan.

  ‘We were promised other worlds, untold riches and resources,’ said Eugenell.

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘Daxzus Zaetsalsae,’ replied Eugenell, as another war cry accompanied a thumping of the chest, an act of which Elizan was already becoming tired.

  ‘This is going to be hard work’, thought Elizan. ‘Perhaps we could discuss this matter over lunch,’ she suggested with a sharp clap of the hands, indicating that she expected the matter to be organised immediately.

  ‘Interestingly, there are far more Drakonians than squalors,’ said Omalius in an attempt to put the importance of t
his alliance in perspective.

  ‘Tell me about the plight of your race, Eugenell,’ asked Elizan.

  ‘We have been at war for decades. We have civil war in many of our regions. The power belongs to the occupants of just two vast landmass we call Tivvalia and Subonia. We have lived under a threat, that the two major powers might destroy our planet. Thankfully, Daxzus introduced technology that could neutralise the threat and the tyranny stopped. We thank your father for saving our planet. We are very sorry to hear of his death and we are here to help in any way we can.’

  ‘Let me paint the picture,’ said Elizan. ‘We have a situation on a planet called Earth, a beautiful planet, rich in resources, where the land is good and plentiful. Like you, my father was trying to help this species, called humans. Also like you, they were on a path of destruction,’ said Elizan, who was delivering such a convincing speech that she almost believed it herself. ‘However, other alien species are trying to move in and take control of the planet; they are aliens who are despicable and have plagued the planet with deadly creatures known as Drayzaks. We need help. We need numbers on the ground.’

  ‘And if we help you, what do we receive in return?’

  ‘Freedom,’ said Elizan. ‘Freedom to move to a lush planet, freedom to rid yourselves of tyranny.’

  The door opened as a parade of Zaagans walked in harbouring the best food and wine Larquiston had to offer. Male and female servants, dressed scantily, almost naked, didn’t go unnoticed as far as the guests were concerned.

  Elizan smiled. ‘Males are so predictable’, she thought.

  ****************************

  The rumble in the square was a familiar sound in Larquiston. The arrival of another portal traveller was always expected. The munika would automatically be notified of the emergence of any new arrival and would gather in their predictable formation, near the portal, as a precautionary measure. Lined in a block, as Romans might formulate their centurions, the munika waited. Junipex was never too far away in case the Larquiston police needed to act. In this case the arrival was from planet Earth. The craft arrived and the indication was that there was only one passenger.

  Anchorax emerged from the craft. Just a short while ago he was a squalor with no rights, fighting to survive. Now he was an honoured guest of the very capital he despised. The fact that he was now feeling comfortable with his new position, for the moment at least, was disconcerting.

  Five munika began to escort Anchorax; this was now a familiar ritual and one that didn’t trouble him in the least. Walking across the square to the great hall was so familiar, it was frightening. He still revelled in his new-found fame and the pure opulence of the city only enhanced his importance. He gazed up at the array of craft travelling to and fro throughout the city, the high-rise buildings being a sight to behold, not to mention the floating cities. If he had been offered this life, before venturing to Earth, it would have been perfect. In a sense, Anchorax was pleased to be back in Larquiston.

  Anchorax arrived at the great hall but was told to wait in reception as Elizan was in talks. A door opened and leaving the room were several servants, having just served up lunch. Anchorax recognised one of the scantily dressed females. She glanced at him, only to gaze at the floor in embarrassment. He immediately figured that it might be a good idea to stay the night and harbour in on his next move in the morning. Judging from the slight embarrassment of the Zaagan, he was sure she would agree entirely that an overnight stay would indeed be a good idea.

  The door opened again. Omalius appeared. He had been given the news by Junipex, as inappropriate as his timing might be, that Omalius could only see as a positive in the arrival of this glorified squalor. The trouble was in keeping the two potential allies separated to the cause, whilst Elizan tied down a much needed alliance with the Drakonian. The terms of that agreement would influence her talks with Anchorax, so Omalius needed to keep Anchorax busy.

  ‘Anchorax,’ said Omalius, greeting the squalor with the same respect as any other dignitary might expect. ‘You must be weary. Let me sort you out a room. Please freshen up. I will arrange food. Is there anything else you might require whilst Elizan prepares herself?’

  ‘Some company would be nice,’ replied Anchorax.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Omalius with subtlety, knowing exactly to whom Anchorax referred.

  Omalius whispered to one of the munika and immediately left the room. Within a minute the guard returned with the female, who only moments ago had blushed. Anchorax smiled. He had all the time in the world and was in no rush to meet with Elizan. Rather, he was revelling in this honourable position, which had completely changed his existence.

  Omalius left the two lovebirds to rekindle their affections for each other and returned to the room where an alliance was being sealed with the new aggressor, to hopefully complement the squalors against the now enemy, Dane Vhastek. ‘A female scorned’ could never have been so apt a description of the treachery that would be served up to the formidable Dane Vhastek. Annaluce was welcome to him. Elizan would decide the fate of Dane’s offspring she carried, at a later date. It would be a delicious irony, should Dane find her sister alive.

  The meeting was progressing just as Elizan had hoped. The body language indicated that the new aggressor, Eugenell Spartok, was completely at ease as he mimicked every pose, sometimes hands clasped together as if praying, sometimes legs crossed in a complete mirror image of the Zaagan beauty, who now had the warrior eating out of her hands. In reality she was far too sophisticated, far too intelligent; this was merely a game. Elizan had the alien beaten when he bent the knee.

  ‘May I propose that our guest retire, freshen up, ready for the evening banquet?’ suggested Omalius.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Elizan. She clapped her hands once more and a munika left the room. It was strange that the same handclap seemed to indicate different commands, yet it was the Zaagans’ telepathic ability that differentiated the order.

  Eugenell arose before purposely, for the second time, bending the knee, as the munika returned with two splendidly gorgeous young female Zaagans. The formula to play to the weakness of her male counterparts was a tactic Elizan was the master at. The alien aggressor left. The telepathic instructions for the two Zaagan offerings were too explicit to be expressed verbally.

  As the door shut firmly behind the trio, Elizan wasted no time getting to the point.

  ‘I assume our other visitor is Anchorax?’

  ‘Astute as always,’ replied Omalius.

  ‘I trust he is being well catered for.’

  A slight twist of the head and a rather subtle smirk said everything that needed to be said.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Elizan, ‘then we have some planning to do. It could be awkward to have both potential war partners meet until we have secured the services of Anchorax. He holds the key to the destruction of Dane’s plan, but it is a very sensitive issue. However, we already know one of his vices.’

  ‘Precisely,’ replied Omalius. ‘I rather suspect that our young squalor is becoming accustomed to the way of life inside the great wall. It is not inconceivable that Anchorax would prefer his rewards here in Larquiston, rather than Earth. Let us consider that we reap the benefits on Earth, once Dane is defeated, rather than offering that prize to our war partner.’

  ‘As usual, Omalius, we see eye to eye. Tonight will be an interesting banquet. I need you to organise the banquet of banquets, the finest delegates Larquiston has to offer, the finest food prepared meticulously and, of course, the finest available young offerings.’

  ‘I will see to it immediately. Perhaps you might wish to retire,’ offered Omalius.

  Elizan arose. The munika stood to attention. Omalius walked steadfastly towards the door, Elizan ten paces behind.

  The stage was now set.

  CHAPTER 36

  THE SERENIX FACTOR

  The ice caves were now a dangerous place. Serenix had seen pandemonium. Dane Vhastek was emotionally challenged and no
w, an evacuation of the only place on Earth she truly felt safe, was under threat. Dane had exposed the caves to the potential onslaught of the enemy.

  Serenix was truly worried about the future, not only the future of the planet but of her future with James. He had almost become surplus to requirements in the riotous brawl of alien activity. In fact, the humans were merely playing lip service to the aliens, now fighting among each other.

  Things needed to change.

  Anchorax had left to obtain more resources in the fight against the Drayzaks and emotions between her father and Dane were frostier than the ice caves. There was one element that all parties were overlooking, the dreadful situation that the native race had been placed in – who was helping the humans?

  Serenix, dressed in a bright yellow Trollozyte garment − one which was designed to withstand both extreme cold or heat – a garment that monitored vital organs, blood pressure and any sign of malnutrition or alien viruses – a garment that would ensure her survival and a garment her father, Oosapeth, insisted she wear even though he had not afforded himself the same protection − walked over to her beloved.

  ‘James, we need to talk,’ said Serenix.

  James took one look at his alien partner, those beautiful sea green eyes and her flawless porcelain-like complexion and immediately knew that all was not right. James afforded one glance over his shoulder, ensuring complete privacy before taking hold of her left upper arm and walking a few paces until they were completely out of sight of her father. He spoke softly:

  ‘Sorry to manhandle you but you know how your father hates seeing us talking quietly. Now, what’s the problem?’

  ‘The problem is that my father and Dane are at loggerheads and no one seems to be concerned about the welfare of your kind,’ said Serenix. The translator, in perfect working order, was almost unnoticeable as far as James was concerned. ‘I mean, you don’t even know whether your family has survived the dreadful invasion, especially the threat of the Drayzaks. Doesn’t that worry you?’