by Jimmy Guieu
Right behind him the priest spoke to his servant giving buttered toast to the three children who were still shaken up. “Noemie, go to the police and tell the sergeant that we’re off on a ‘Devil hunt’ in the woods around Charette. If the they want to join in, they’ll know where to find us.”
“Cowards! That’s what you are!” Sergeant Mathieu shouted at the ten farmers recounting their adventure. “You’re not children, by God, who run away from bad jokes! Because you can’t make me believe in the stories of the Devil and such nonsense! We’ll go over there and I guarantee you that the three kids who threw the fear of God in you are going to be in big trouble!’
After speaking all this common sense Sergeant Mathieu jumped on his bicycle and with his three deputies went bravely on the offensive, rifle slung over his shoulder.
Dr. Chabert and the priest stood petrified with horror, paralyzed by a nameless fear, completely still, unable to move a finger. 100 yards away up the road, three nightmarish creatures around six and a half feet tall, looking vaguely human but with their bodies covered in horny scales, were slowly walking in their direction. Their oval heads were softer, topped by a fleshy growth that bobbled a little as they walked. Their dark red eyes stripped with thin bands of yellow were staring straight at them.
The priest clutched his crucifix and mumbled, “Vade… retro… Satanas!”
The doctor’s throat went dry and his stomach suddenly contracted. He lifted his rifle with his finger on the trigger, ready to fire. He whispered, “These… monsters are like the things the government is expecting to come. But are they really them?”
An unsettling event quickly gave them the answer. One of the three Denebians (since it really was these monsters whose cunning matched their thirst for power) raised his arm and in a hoarse, cavernous voice, and in French, said, “We are your friends, Earthlings! See… we have no weapons and are trusting in your wisdom not to attack us.”
He was still walking forward although his two companions stopped. He stopped only when he was less than two feet from the barrel of the gun aimed at his sparkling green chest by Dr. Chabert whose forehead was streaming with sweat.
Holding out his arms, the crucifix at the level of the monster’s face, the priest could not say a word. Horrified, he stared at the repulsive creature—half-man, half-lizard—who just turned his attention to the cross.
Looking long and hard at the crucifix the Denebian finally growled, “Isn’t this a symbol of one of your divinities?”
Both surprised by his knowledge of the religion and shocked by the polytheistic idea, the priest forced himself to speak. “We have only one God and this symbol is that of His Son Jesus…”
“Have I offended you by my mistake?” the creature asked shyly, expertly playing his role of humiliated guest.
Caught off guard by this rather troubling question the priest lowered his arms. “No… No, not at all. The Son of our God, among many other sacred truths, teaches us to forgive those who offend us. But this isn’t the case since you just don’t know.”
The Denebian was honestly pleased. This first contact with these “ugly white creatures” was unfolding under the best conditions.
At the moment that Dr. Chabert was about to lower his rifle, a gunshot was heard and startled him. The Denebian jerked, brought his clawed hand up to his shoulder and wobbled, twisting the two drooping folds that were his lips.
The two men turned around and saw the three policemen jumping off their bikes, the sergeant in the lead, still holding up his smoking gun.
“Stop!” the priest shouted, jumping between the police and the two unharmed Denebians who had just dropped to the ground. “You fool, what have you done!”
Dr. Chabert’s vocabulary was much less bookish, “Jackasses!” he yelled, looking worriedly at the fallen monster with a bullet in its shoulder.
“But they…” the sergeant stammered, dazed and turned pale with fright and disgust before these monstrous creatures. “I… We thought they were attacking you.”
“They’re Denebians. Certainly frightening creatures to look at but their feelings toward us are pure,” the priest explained, chatting away as he knelt next to the wounded.
Cautiously and keeping their weapons in hand, the policemen came forward. The two other Denebians also came up to their companion and examined him thoroughly.
The wounded creature slowly turned his head to the priest and in a weird, gravelly voice that could make anyone shiver, he said, “This… this little accident mustn’t affect the relations that we are counting on establishing between our races.” Lowering his big, red, yellow-striped eyes to the crucifix that the priest had put back in his belt, he added, “We don’t worship the same God but ours also teaches us to pardon,” he lied again. “The Earthling who wounded me certainly had good intentions. He must have thought you were in danger…”
Moved by the great wisdom of this “poor creature,” looking from the police to the doctor, the priest said, “What a grand soul! What good and wonderful beings! If only Earthlings could have a soul as charitable as theirs one day!”
Stupid white monsters, the Denebian thought, whose scaly carapace was only scraped by the bullet. With ideas like that, we’ll be able to conquer them before they even know it! And when they become aware of our true intentions, they won’t be able to do anything about it!
CHAPTER VIII
Less than five hours after this incident, special editions announced the good news to the world. In huge capitals all the newspaper headlines spread the sensational information:
A DENEBIAN FLYING SAUCER LANDS IN A VILLAGE IN VENDEE! THREE PILOTS—GREEN SCALY CREATURES TWO METERS TALL—SPREAD PANIC AMONG THE PEOPLE.
A PRIEST AND A DOCTOR ESTABLISH FIRST CONTACT WITH THE PEACEFUL BEINGS COME TO HELP EARTHLINGS!
More discreet than the deceitful, Men from Outer Space, and so much more human despite their troubling appearance, the Denebians have sent three ambassadors to Earth (see photo below sent by special wirephoto).
After a moving description of the contact and the accident that ensued, the reporter launched into a poetic-realist flight to sing the praises of these “wise ambassadors of an extra-terrestrial people whose altruism toward our race is constantly verified.”
The journalist concluded, “There’s no doubt that this first contact will be the prelude to a closer collaboration between our two races; a prelude that foresees huge benefits for our civilization that, safe from a sneaky Polarian attack, will be able to take huge steps forward with the selfless aide of the good Denebian scientists.”
In an emergency meeting in Paris at the old UN Palace, now the French Department of the USW, the awestruck heads of state were watching the three green creatures from Deneb sitting in the place of honor in front of the President’s seat.
In spite of all efforts made to consider these ambassadors as “brothers” and allies, the VIPs could not help feeling an uncontrollable disgust in their presence. Before these glistening, green, scaly creatures with red eyes, a shiver ran down their spines. From the depths of their being an insurmountable fear rose up, one of those latent fears in every individual, a subconscious relic of ancestral terrors.
If the heads of state reacted like this, what reactions would the people have to these creatures when they started crowding the streets of cities and towns? For, the day was coming since these beings were offering their help and protection. And there was no question—without hurting them deeply—of asking them not to show themselves in public.
The President of the USW, no less uncomfortable than his illustrious colleagues, was making visible efforts to smile kindly at the Denebians. But did they even understand the meaning of a smile?
“Excellencies,” he began his address to the “two-legged lizard” ambassadors. “I am extremely happy to welcome you to our planet in the name of the United States of the World. It is with the utmost sorrow that I learned about the unfortunate accident that befell one of your Excellencies. I can as
sure you that the guilty party of this regrettable attack will suffer the severest penalties…”
M’nag, the Denebian commander specialized in hand-to-hand combat, the bitter enemy of Zimko, playing the bighearted ambassador here, stood up and bowed melodramatically. “I would thank the President of the USW not to be too hard on the Earthling who wounded me. It was an accident. Your brother only did it because he thought the two other Earthlings were in danger. Our desire is to establish friendly and lasting relations with your race. We would be sorry to start off with a disciplinary punishment because of us. Would you do us the favor of pardoning this Earthling for his nervousness and his mistake?”
The President bowed in turn, “We are deeply moved by these honorable sentiments. I will make sure to grant your wish and see to it that the man who dared to shoot at Your Excellency will not be punished.
Then turning to the assembly he continued:
“Gentlemen, our civilization will obviously be proud to ally with people whose ambassadors show such wisdom. The Denebians, as their Excellencies explained to me, have learned several of our languages thanks to the mechano-psychic devices similar to those the Polarians used to spy on us. But where the latter got the collaboration of some Earthlings to assuage our fears and manipulate our imaginations to their favor, the people of Deneb don’t use such tricks. They didn’t use flashy publicity and in poor taste to announce the arrival of their representatives. No, only three ambassadors were sent to our planet, landing timidly near a village in France, Dompierre-sur-Yon, which will become famous for this historic encounter. This discretion immediately won us over. His Excellency M’nag and his Plenipotentiary Ministers R’zog and T’gonk, who presented their credentials translated from Denebian into French, English, Russian and Spanish, are now going to state the offer of their government.”
The President of the USW bowed and invited “His Excellency” M’nag to take the floor.
The Denebian stood up, towering over the frightened Earthlings watching him. Where the bullet had grazed his shoulder was a kind of greenish swelling covered with a clear, anti-septic film. He and his partners were dressed only in a kind of underpants resembling leather with a wide, very thick belt. Around his scaly neck hung a triangular metal plate. Incomprehensible signs were engraved on it in red characters that shined brightly even in broad daylight or under the artificial light.
His hoarse voice boomed forth, making his attentive listeners automatically shiver. “His Majesty K’Wyil II, Emperor of the Omink Solar System called Deneb by Earthlings, Beloved Master of the Seven Solar Protectorates, is very happy to present to the President of the USW, to his brothers and the people, the assurance of his deep feelings of Cosmic Love.”
You could not say that this pompous, grandiloquent greeting was welcomed cheerfully by the heads of state. But they forced themselves not to reveal their thoughts about these ambassadors full of goodwill but with a very eccentric vocabulary. No doubt these grandiose words were allowed if not encouraged in Denebian diplomacy.
“Through our unworthy mouths His Majesty K’Wyil II informs the Earthlings of his intention to offer help and protection against any attempted invasion by the Demons from Outer Space called Polarians on your planet.
“If the Earthlings do us the great honor of accepting our selfless offer, we will report their agreement to our Venerated Master who will immediately order our freedom squadrons to surround Earth. Then our ships will land on the day, time and place of your choosing to set up a strong defensive network on your planet without delay.
“Posts of magnetic detection will be spread over the globe to create a veritable net of protection that no enemy spaceship will be able to slip through without automatically setting off a flood of disintegrating missiles that will destroy it down to the last atom.
“If the Earthlings don’t want our help and refuse our offers of protection, we will do nothing to force them to accept our presence on their soil, staying faithful to our policy of non intervention if it’s considered undesirable. Then we will just set up, with their permission, a simple observation base orbiting 600 miles above Earth. This will allow us to detect any approaching enemy squadron and fend off any attempt to enslave them.
“Thus, President and you Heads of State, without forcing our presence on you—for, we know how much our appearance shocks you—we will still protect you. We will only ask of you in exchange to tolerate a Denebian embassy of ten people in one of your capitals.”
Turning now to the President of the USW in particular he said, “Do you think you can give us an immediate answer to one of these offers or would you rather meet in private to deliberate before telling us you decision?”
Charmed by the deferential tone of this being who was so different from humans… and by the purity of his offers, the President told the assembly, “Gentlemen, it is up to us to decide. All who want a discussion here and now raise your hands.”
Almost everyone raised their hands without a second of hesitation. Only three heads of state did not move: the representative from France, England and Israel. Finally, France and Israel agreed as well.
“Gentlemen, an almost unanimous decision has been made,” the President of the USW observed. “I declare the discussion open to give an immediate answer to Their Excellencies M’nag, R’zog, and T’gonk of the Denebian Empire. Two possibilities lie before us. First, to welcome an expeditionary corps to our planet to build our defense. Second, to simply give the right to this corps to set up a space base orbiting our planet with the creation of an embassy on the ground with only ten people in it. All those in favor of the first option raise your…”
A loud explosion shook the floor and shattered most of the windows of the United Nations of the World Palace.
The President’s question remained unfinished and a wave of anxiety washed over the assembly. In the commotion that followed the inexplicable explosion, His Excellency M’nag raised his thundering voice above the shouting:
“I ask the President to let me leave immediately for a few moments. I believe that the auto-defense system on our spaceship has just been set off by an enemy ship!”
“I… Please,” the President acquiesced in his distress.
M’nag stood up and ran out, leaving his Plenipotentiary Ministers with the Earthlings. His green body glimmered eerily when he crossed the sun-washed courtyard. When he got to the central path looking over the flowerbeds of the Trocadero, M’nag stopped. An expression of complete satisfaction twisted his face—a grimace that an Earthling could not interpret.
The Denebian spaceship sitting in the middle of the esplanade was shooting purple beams into the sky from the top of its dome. A crowd of curious onlookers was running up and gathering at the foot of the Eiffel Tower into which a 50-foot wide flying saucer had crashed.
Everything is going just fine, the green monster snickered to himself. It couldn’t get better than this. I will make sure to make a rave report to our Emperor and suggest X’hug get a promotion. He guided this captured Polarian ship into this ridiculous metal structure at the perfect time, he thought as he sneered at the Eiffel Tower.
He went back to the heads of state who were huddled together on the front steps of the Palace and returned to the assembly room with them.
“Just as I thought, our defense system reacted to the presence of an enemy spaceship. As it came in it caused our automatic detector not to fire our disintegrator missiles so as to protect this magnificent capital from devastation. And we acted rightly. But our explosive missiles still struck it down. Being full of Sh’lang explosives, however, it caused some damage when it crashed. I’m sorry but this is nothing compared to the destruction it could have caused if it had time to drop its atomic payload on your city.”
In an emotionally charged voice the President declared, “We are infinitely indebted to you, Excellencies, for having the foresight to turn on the automatic detectors on your ship. Without this wise precaution we can be sure that this meeting would have ended
in a massacre. Without a doubt these Demons from Space wanted to bomb our assembly where they could kill your Excellencies along with all the heads of state on Earth.
“This vile aggression proves to us, if there were further need, the Polarian wickedness and the urgency of an agreement between your people and ours. Personally I recommend an immediate agreement and ask you, my Earth brothers to accept the first offer of our generous defenders. Namely: authorization for the Denebians to set up a strong defense system covering the surface of the globe as soon as possible.”
Before the President even put the question to a vote, in an assembly that was now completely unanimous, the heads of state raised their hands in acceptance.
“Gentlemen, I thank you for your enthusiasm in accepting this necessity. Before long we will get the security that will allow our civilization to progress on the paths of knowledge and peace. Will we ever be able to return the enormous benefits that we owe to our brave defenders?”
M’nag bowed ceremoniously, “We were sure that you’d come to an agreement with the intelligent and sympathetic race that we are. I leave it to you, Mr. President, to fix the date and location that you want for our first defense installations as well as for the establishment of our permanent base.”
“I propose we welcome the first squadrons in two Earth days at eight o’clock, local time, in the following capital cities to start with: Paris, Washington DC, Moscow and Sydney. After that, depending on how fast the Denebians can set up their defense system, the spaceships can land in the other capitals to cover the whole Earth as soon as possible with an effective detection network.”
“With your permission, Mr. President, we will take your wise decision back to His Majesty K’Wyil II.”
“But,” one head of state objected, “during your trip our planet will be vulnerable to a sudden Polarian attack.”
