Uncategorized

Unlikely heroes and alien political intrigue emerge as the tale unfolds:

Fresh from her encounter with Grrndakegra Chameakegra sat herself at her station to send a message. The rage still flowed through her and she needed to expunge it.

She sat in front of her comulator and pressed record. Her image hung in the air above the tridee. She studied her angry white scutes and began:

‘Beheggakegri, you slimy piece of dreyfus shit, I have the evidence of what you and Grrndakegra have been up to.’ She waved her communicator in the air. ‘I have an interview with Commander Loj at lunar and more from Minorian commanders at various camps. It’s all here.’ She tapped her communicator with a claw and allowed the camera to linger on her bleached face. ‘You two have been actively undermining my plan and I have the evidence.’ She glared into the camera. ‘I’m sending a full report of your sabotage through to Judge Booghramakegra.’ She leaned into the camera so that her face loomed menacingly out with fluorescent green eyes flashing spears of venom. ‘You are mince!’ Then she flicked the record off.

Chameakegra thought about all the advice she’d ever been given. Never do anything in haste. Never send a message to anyone when consumed by anger. Then she calmly and deliberately pressed send.

For a minute she stared at the tridee, her mind racing. Was this the moment to go nuclear and actually send the evidence through to Booghramakegra? Was it enough? Should she gather more?

At least it was all out in the open. Her claw hovered above the keypad. She hesitated.

By the time Ron was prepared for his first address to the new assembly the media was back up and running. Getting TV back was considered essential by Chameakegra. She saw it as a calming influence.

Ron mounted the podium and calmly surveyed the delegates spread out before him. There wasn’t one he recognised. They had all been appointed by Chameakegra and the combined computer power of the Neff, wherever that was. Somehow he had to put his faith in that. And, despite a few residual qualms he thought he had. This was certainly no time for doubt. Not when he was facing thousands of delegates and a world-wide audience of billions.

For a moment Ron froze. The fears rose up in him. What if the words did not come?

He was not used to public speaking; a few dozen in a hall at a book signing was his limit if you didn’t count a wedding speech or two. Yet here he was standing in front of a couple of thousand delegates in the old UN building in New York. At the front were all the department heads responsible for managing the various branches of government. Behind them a mass of delegates of all shapes, sizes, colours and cultures. He looked down the aisle. There were the camera crews with their equipment all trained on him. Nobody knew who he was. This was their first look at the new boy on the block. This speech was going live right round the globe. Every word he uttered would be analysed. Billions of people were probably going to judge him on what happened in the next hour. He had no notes and decided against the autocue.

There was complete silence. All eyes were on Ron. They were already weighing up this strange little man who had come out of nowhere – studying his straggly hair and grey beard, his podgy frame and slightly crumpled cheap suit. He hadn’t even tightened his tie. Was this really the man who was going to lead everybody to a new future? It didn’t look very likely.

The pressure on Ron was immense.

Strangely he felt completely calm and confident. He knew exactly what he was going to say. He turned to face the world.

Chapter 13 – Deception and Vision

Beheggakegri was incensed. He kept rereading the short message from Chameakegra as if he couldn’t quite believe it. His crest was fully raised but a multitude of colours raged across his scutes as he attempted to think of a way forward. That infernal Giforian would be the death of him. He could feel is twin hearts labouring as his blood pressure rose dangerously high. His medikit kicked in with a shot to calm him down, but that didn’t do too much. His confidence had evaporated. Had he overreached? His anxiety levels were dangerously high.

What could that Judge actually do? She didn’t actually have jurisdiction over UFOR. What if Chameakegra or Judge Booghramakegra did send out there evidence? Had that stupid Minorian implicated him? Couldn’t he just push the blame on to Grrndakegra? What had the stupid fool told her? Did they have enough to call it a conspiracy or could he get away with blaming it all on Grrndakegra? The questions buzzed around in his head like maddened zubby flies.

How should he respond? The rudeness of the message was such that any formal response should involve a severe reprimand, probably sufficient to warrant a demotion or sacking. But if he went down that path and she had evidence of conspiracy that could rebound on him. But if he chose to ignore it then he was displaying guilt and weakness. Which was worse?

For once Beheggakegri felt conflicted.

Then he made a decision: he would go the middle way, reply with a severe rebuke, tell her she is being stupid and warn her not to be so rude?

‘My fellow delegates, new governors,’ he looked directly into the cameras, ‘and citizens of the new world, my name is Ron Forsythe and I have been appointed President and Planetary Steward.’ He paused, looking resolute, projecting more authority than he had ever done in the whole of his life. A huge burst of confidence welled up inside him sweeping all doubts aside. He knew the words would find him. There was no need to search for them. He was the President and he aimed to make them know it. It was essential that he did – so much depended on him coming through. He had to trust in Chameakegra and sell her vision to the world. There was no room for doubt. He had to be 100%.

‘We stand on the brink of a new age. We have pulled back from complete disaster. Our alien friends have arrived to assist us to escape that horrible fate and move forward into a new age.’ The silence was thunderous. The delegates were watchful and sceptical. Most of them, just like him, felt they were impostors, brought in to do what the Federation wanted them to do. He leaned forward and peered out at the world. His audience extended far beyond the delegates in the hall and all of them were far from sure. His job was to convince them. ‘I aim to ensure that we grab this lifeline with both hands.’

Unfazed by the lack of response Ron pressed on. He knew exactly what he needed to do; his mind was crystal clear. ‘Together with our Federation friends I have been working through an exciting vision for the future.’

Ron looked round and gestured to Chameakegra who was lurking in the background. He waved her forward. A murmur ran around the silent hall. All the delegates had been appointed by their new overlords but that did not mean that they trusted them yet. They certainly had not had the close daily contact that Ron had. The Giforian was still viewed with great suspicion by most people. The horrible scenes of the abductions were fuelling distrust. Even many of these delegates saw them as invaders who were pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. If the delegates didn’t believe then how could anybody else?

Ron reached for Chameakegra’s claw and held it aloft. He could only raise it to Chameakegra’s shoulder height but it achieved its aim. ‘This is Chameakegra. She is the Commander of a spacecraft that travels through the depths of hyperspace – something that we can only speculate about. Chameakegra is one of two commanders who have been given the task of helping us save ourselves.’

Chameakegra stood awkwardly by his side not knowing quite where this was going. They certainly hadn’t rehearsed this. She had to trust Ron. A yellow awkwardness flowed over her scutes as she stood beside this little Hydran. Neff had selected him. Now she had to give him her trust. ‘When I first met Chameakegra I saw her as an alien lizard, part of a conquering set of invaders. She talked to me and shared a vision of the future. I watched her talking in her broadcasts and I could not bring myself to believe her. But she persevered. She told me she’d seen something in me and that was why she thought I was suited to this role. She continued to share that vision, putting flesh on the bone, until I could see it too. She spent time with me until I learnt to understand her mannerisms and feelings; until I came to realise that she really meant what she said. She had a vision for how we humans could be and she is trying to make it come true.’

He let go of Chameakegra’s claw, stepped forward and gripped both sides of the podium ignoring the cameras and peering round at the massed delegates.

‘I am a writer; a nobody. Everyone can see that. I am no politician let alone President. But I am here. I see myself as a bridge to the future. Just a bridge. When you have all made that journey to the other side I will no longer be of any use. But I can get you across.’

Ron stared the silence into defeat.

‘To understand where we need to go we have to first understand where we’ve been and where we were going. We have to recognise it and accept the reality of it. We have to change the path we were going down because that way spelt disaster. We have to find a better way.’ He gestured towards Chameakegra. ‘This is our crossroads. This is the better way.’

They might not have been applauding but they were listening. Ron had more charisma than anybody had expected and what he said made sense.

‘The world was in a death loop,’ Ron asserted, ‘a repeating cycle of escalating catastrophe – a cycle of uglier and uglier wars with nastier and nastier weapons – a cycle of endless ravaging of nature producing greater pollution and a climate change that would have been catastrophic – a loop of endless unrestrained greed in which we spawned billionaires and trillionaires while condemning billions to terrible poverty – a loop of tribal racism, violence and hatred, of gangs, drug abuse, sectarian extremism and crime. It doesn’t take a genius to follow that to its conclusion. We were steadily, inexorably heading towards the exit.’

Ron stood centre stage and dared anybody to contradict him. Rapt silence. But it was a positive silence. At least they were listening to him.

‘We had lost faith in all political parties, institutions and the media. We were being fed a daily diet of lies, conspiracy and propaganda. The billionaires controlled the media and ran things to benefit themselves, electing useless buffoons and populist self-servers. We were being led by narcissists, psychopaths and sociopaths and could not catch a glimpse of a competent leader capable of leading us out of this quagmire.’

Ron stopped again. He reached once again for Chameakegra’s claw and raised her arm once more, drawing her forward, up to the lectern.

He looked up at Chameakegra admiringly as she stood beside him. ‘It took an objective outsider with intelligence, a clear understanding, the scientific and technological means coupled with a clear vision, to help us crawl out of the grave we were digging for ourselves.’ He looked directly into the cameras and addressed the whole world. ‘Chameakegra provided that objectivity and vision.’

Slowly and deliberately he pronounced each syllable: ‘I    trust    her.’

‘This, ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not, is our only hope for the future.’ He shook Chameakegra’s claw in a sign of unity and victory. ‘I urge you to trust her too; to give her your backing and work hard to make her vision real.’

‘Together, Federation and Earth, can forge a better future. We can banish the scourges that have crippled us throughout our history. I say to you – back Commander Chameakegra and fight for a world without war and division, without violence and hate, without cruelty and pollution, without poverty and unrestricted greed, a world with a future.’

There was actually a ripple of applause.

‘The Federation offers us the science and technology to create that better future. They have temporarily removed the minority who were responsible for creating much of our misery. They will be rehabilitated and returned as wholesome, well-adjusted citizens. This isn’t an invasion, a take-over or a bid for control; this is our last chance… our last chance.’

‘Let’s not blow it.’

Ron stepped back from the podium. For a moment the silence remained then, first as a dribble, then a dam burst, and a surge spread around the hall, soon every member was on their feet clapping.

Ron smiled and nodded.

He’d passed the audition.