The Cleansing – 24 – Chapter 10 continued

Posted on by Opher

Little did I realise what ICE were going to be doing in American cities. I was looking into the future:

The camps were full to bursting. Rows of prefabricated huts extruded from some strange alienplastic-like material extended into the distance like some battery hen egg-producing factories. Inside was just as orderly and mechanised in the most sterile manner imaginable. The huts were crammed full of bunk beds made of the same alloy, each equipped with a mattress, single pillow and sheet. The amenities were shared – toilets and wash basins all made of strange alien fabrics. Everything was very basic and austere. They worked and did the job but that was all.

The lack of a perimeter wire was the camps only redeeming feature. The inmates, all dressed in the same single-piece tunics, were contained by an invisible containing barrier. There were no entrances or exits visible. Nothing could come in and nothing went out through that undetectable partition. The alien craft landed vertically into a central reception area. That was the only commerce.

Each massive block was managed by a single lizard who paid scant attention to what was going on inside their domain. Their function seemed largely ornamental. They were there to register a presence and perhaps record what went on. Their one task was to oversee a delivery of bland untextured alien food three times a day. Otherwise they ignored the inmates and what they got up to. In the event of fights they would appear and wait for it to be over, watching with interest. The injured would be removed without any repercussions for the offenders. Even when horrible weapons were constructed and inmates killed nothing was done about it. Law, rules and regulations were left to the inmates to implement. The inmates were left to organise themselves, no attention was paid to the distribution of food, condition of the toilets and wash areas or any form of entertainment. That was also left to the inmates. Once a week bedding was changed, apart from that it was a free-for-all that rapidly descended into a survival of the fittest. A recipe for disaster.

Almost as if someone had designed the kind of pressure cooker likely to explode.

Most of the guards were nine foot Giforians with a smattering of slightly smaller Drefs. They seemed impervious to physical attack, brushing assailants away like flies, and equally impervious to cries for help. If anything they found the antics of their charges either amusing or repulsive. They made no attempt to indulge in any interplay.

Inside the huts no distinction was made between the inmates – rich, poor, famous, criminal, male, female they were all heaped in together, supplied with the same tunics and left to organise themselves. It proved fertile ground for squabbles, baiting, bullying, rape and intimidation that broke down into regular nasty fights. Some huts were orderly otherswere run by various factions who organised things for the benefit of a ruthless minority. The strongest and meanest prevailed.

Every few minutes more craft would arrive to spill out their cargoes of furious or bewildered people who were crammed in to the over full huts. The strange glassy bunks were pushed closer together and more crammed in. Feeble attempts were made at privacy with sheets pinned up and ‘inmates’ with nothing to do sat listlessly or dozed on their bunks. The basic, tasteless food was picked over and only consumed out of hunger. Entertainment was restricted to a stroll between huts and gossip with fellow inmates. Some tried to keep themselves fit through a fitness regime but most lazed around listlessly and grew increasingly despondent. There were three main topics of conversation: why had they all been singled out? Where were they going? What was going to happen to them?

An air of anger, violence and fear hung over the camps. It was waiting to ignite.

On arrival the newcomers were processed by big lumbering Leff who scanned, cross-checked DNA, chipped, vaccinated and sorted them in a perfunctory manner. They were then roughly led to their new ‘homes’. Most were so stunned by what had happened that they moved through the process in a trance. Occasionally someone would break down into a fit of hysterics or resist, arguing fiercely, shouting, ranting, beating at one of the reptiles or attempting to run away. They were roughly manhandled and brought back into line. It was soon apparent that the lizards were faster and stronger and seemed completely impervious to pleas or attacks. Resistance was futile. The troopers had a job to do and they intended to do it. They carried out their role dispassionately.

The boredom did nothing to lift the air of hostility that gripped the place. There was nobody to turn to for help, nobody to ask, no questions answered. They were left to stew, to wonder why they were here and what was going to happen to them. Conspiracies festered.

The Cleansing 18 (Sci-fi novel)- Chapter 6 continued

Posted on by Opher

I (as Ron Forsythe Sci-fi writer) wanted to create a juxtaposition of a ‘typical’ working class group of friends with that of a professional writer in the setting of an alien invasion. The human race has been judged. Now comes the cleansing – the way to improve the situation. The aliens are bringing in measures to rectify the historical failings of the human race. The locals are watching the alien broadcast in their local pub:

‘Jesus,’ Denby said, his face drawn into a disbelieving sneer, ‘did you see that face.’

‘Ugly buggers, aren’t they,’ Foxy replied.

‘Did you catch that bit about countries,’ Billy said, still staring at the silent TV and shaking his head. ‘Those bastards think they can come along and take our country away from us. They got another fucking think coming. Trying to buy us off with all that guff about how great things are going to be. Pile of fucking horseshit if you ask me!’

‘Countries and democracy!’ Denby scowled. ‘They think they can fucking put their own people in and tell us what to do.’

‘At least they said that they weren’t going to do us any harm,’ Debbie commented whimsically.

‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ Billy sneered. ‘We’ve heard all that before. Every fucking time there’s a coup they fucking tell everyone that it’s all going to be alright – we’re here to put things right’ – next thing you know there’s fucking firing squads, torture chambers and the fucking gestapo.’

‘You saw how they were dragging all those people off,’ Denby threw his weight in behind Billy. ‘Where the fuck do you think they were going – the local beauty parlour?’

‘But they said they’d be right back, they were just er, being er adjusted.’ Debbie replied, looking doubtful but still desperately wanting to believe what the lizard had said.

Billy chuckled. ‘They’re being adjusted alright. Probably their fucking body parts are being ‘adjusted’ into other places.’

‘You don’t need to scare everyone,’ Charlene said sharply. ‘Not in front of the kids.’ Her eyes darted towards the kids, little Billy junior was playing with his cars but it wasn’t hard to see that he was all ears.

Billy grimaced but shut up.

‘Might not be a bad thing if they take all the right people,’ Foxy said with a big grin. ‘There’s a few of them bastards I wouldn’t mind seeing rearranged. I could make a few suggestions about people and parts. That Farage is a dickhead to start with.’

‘First they came for the communists….’ Denby recited solemnly. That was about all he knew.

‘I just hope they open the shops and let the lads get back to work,’ Kathy said miserably. ‘We’ve got to eat, feed the kids and pay the rent. You can’t do that on fresh air.’

‘They said they were going to make everything better,’ Debbie persevered. Everybody looked sideways at her as if she was nuts so she shut up.

‘At least it’s put a stop to all those immigrants crossing the channel,’ John remarked dourly, changing the subject back on to safer ground.

‘Naw,’ Foxy chuckled. ‘We’ve just got ourselves a different bunch of immigrants – Big lunks with scaly bodies!’

‘You’ll be laughing the other side of your head once these fucking reptiles are through with us,’ Billy replied angrily. ‘First they take our bleeding country away…’

Ron was watching the video links carefully. He was weighing it up with what that gaudy lizard had said. It seemed to make sense to him. They were dragging people out of their mansions, not the ones out of ordinary houses. Perhaps they were doing what they said they were and removing the greedy and power-mad. He thought about Jean. He knew she worked in finance and was always crawling with gold. Her Lotus parked in front of their large house shouted something about her income. Then there was George. He lived in the biggest house in the Close. Nobody knew quite what he did for a living but he was never short. Perhaps the lizards were doing exactly what they purported to be doing? Or was this just the start of something more sinister?

Ron wrote about aliens for a living so he was familiar with the usual scenarios. Aliens came in with their massive laser guns and hyperbolic weapons and flattened all opposition. They set up a command post and wiped out all opposition so they could strip the country of everything they desired. That was usually minerals, water, slaves and food – often the inhabitants themselves were the food. That didn’t seem to be the case with this invasion. At least not yet.

If this was an alien invasion it was pretty bloodless. They hadn’t waded in with weapons blazing. They had simply taken over. Even when they were dragging people away they weren’t killing or injuring them. Even their guns were simply stun guns. What was obvious to Ron was that they had the technology to do what they wanted but they weren’t destroying and killing. Despite the fact that we were completely helpless they were spinning us a positive vision for the future. They had no need to do that. Was this just a subtle control mechanism? Were they playing for time in order to consolidate? He could not see it. With their superior technology they were already in complete control. Perhaps he should believe in what they were saying?

Time would tell. So far he was impressed with the rhetoric. Were the actions going to live up to it though?

Grrndakegra patched through directly to the Neff. Her grinning face appeared floating above Chameakegra’s tridee set on her consul in the bridge open to full scrutiny from the rest of Chameakegra’s crew. A deliberate act. She hadn’t bothered to use Chameakegra’s personal connection or give any warning. Chameakegra noted the half-raised crest and blue sheen. Grrndakegra was enjoying herself.

‘Nice speech,’ Grrndakegra remarked as an opening gambit with what could be interpreted as a half sneer. Chameakegra was left not quite knowing if that was meant sarcastically or not. It threw her. But that was the intent. ‘Do you reckon that will do the trick?’ Her face now had evolved into an unmistakeable full sneer.

‘Not for one moment,’ Chameakegra replied evenly, controlling herself with difficulty and not rising to the goading. ‘It’s going to take a lot more than that to win the Hydrans over. But it’s a start.’

‘A start indeed,’ Grrndakegra was openly mocking.

Chameakegra was desperately trying to keep herself from displaying a hint of yellow annoyance. Her eyes narrowed. She needed to take her on and find a suitable retort. She decided to go on the attack and change direction. ‘Can you please ask your troops to try to be less violent with their arrests? Their communications network is alive with disturbing scenes. It’s going to make our task a lot harder.’

Grrndakegra grinned, the blue deepening on her crest. She was loving this. ‘You can’t cook a jebba without cracking shells.’

Chameakegra appeared unfazed. ‘Yes, but you can do it so that it doesn’t look as if you are at least respecting the jebba, not relishing its demise.’

Grrndakegra shrugged. ‘They’re just doing their job. If the Hydrans didn’t struggle and scream so much they wouldn’t have to use force and it’d all be hunky dory.’

‘How long is this operation going to go on for?’ Chameakegra allowed a little yellow annoyance to tinge the tips of her crest.

‘Until we’ve rounded them all up,’ Grrndakegra replied cheerfully. ‘Thanks to your wonderful research we seem to have got around 90% in the first trawl. Pretty good going. But I reckon that tracking down that last ten percent is likely to be a lot trickier. They’ll have gone to ground.’

Chameakegra was not impressed with the false praise. The tone of Grrndakegra’s voice made it quite clear that she was playing with her. It only served to annoy Chameakegra more.

‘The longer the operation takes the more damage it does to our long-term strategy.’

‘It’ll be what it’ll be,’ Grrndakegra grinned infuriatingly.

Chameakegra knew it was pointless continuing down this line. She was just providing Grrndakegra with ammunition. The operation would run its course. No doubt, given time, they wouldn’t track down all the errant Hydrans. Some would have gone to ground or be lost in the system. The raids would throw more fuel on the conflagration but they would just have to ride it and hope that in the long run the Hydrans would see that she was as good as her word and there could be a better future. She just wished that Grrndakegra was on board. She had a distinct feeling that Grrndakegra was actively working against her. But then what could she expect from a Beheggakegri appointment. ‘What is happening to all the Hydrans you are picking up?’ She asked, choosing a different tack. ‘We haven’t completed the lunar installations yet. The installations won’t be ready for weeks.’

‘Holding them in temporary camps,’ Grrndakegra replied almost gleefully. ‘Don’t worry your crest on that one. We’re taking good care of them.’

Chameakegra had her doubts but there was nothing she could say. This joint leadership presented enormous problems. She could not control things. Grrndakegra was a blot on her plans. She made a note to herself to put a jigger up the construction team. The soon the installations were complete the sooner she could prise the errant Hydrans away from Grrndakegra and begin to work on the reprogramming that she had devised. Just by looking at Grrndakegra’s gloating response she could tell she was up to no good. Chameakegra had the distinct feeling that those camps might be counterproductive. A cloud of doubt spread its gloom over her optimism. With hindsight this whole extraction operation seemed rushed. Why had they gone into this prematurely, before everything was fully prepared? That had been Grrndakegra. Was it just that Grrndakegra was a bit gung-ho or was there something more sinister behind it? Too many people wanted this to fail and she had more than a feeling that Grrndakegra was one of them.

‘What’s you next magic step?’ Grrndakegra asked mockingly. ‘Another speech to reassure our compliant Hydrans perhaps?’

‘Normality.’

‘What do you mean normality?’

‘It’s imperative that we get the Hydrans back to work, open the shops and allow normal discourse. Opening the offices and shops will be essential.’

‘Oh yes,’ Grrndakegra actually laughed, her blue deepening and crest rising, ‘I can’t wait to see how they all cope now that their bosses are all taken away and all the hierarchy has collapsed. No government to provide structure. Send them back and it’ll be chaos.’ She seemed delighted by the thought of that prospect.

‘Quite probably,’ Chameakegra replied evenly. ‘We shall see. And not all the bosses are gone – just the corrupt ones. It’ll be a bit of a test to see how the ones who are left handle the situation. Remove the bad loohs and the good loohs rise to the surface. Besides, we’ll lend them a hand.’

‘Or they flounder around and go to pieces without direction.’ Grrndakegra seemed to find that immensely amusing.

‘Some will. Some won’t.’ She was finding this exasperating. ‘They are intelligent and capable you know? They aren’t all corrupt and useless.’

Grrndakegra looked as if she didn’t believe that for one minute.

‘We’ll open up the work, set the transport hub operating and get the media working, under our supervision. We’ll provide support.’

‘That from the Neff then?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’ll work then. You’ve got a massive, well-trained crew and there won’t be too much need for support, will there?’ The tone suggested that Grrndakegra did not expect them to cope.

‘Neff will handle it. We’ll trouble shoot.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Grrndakegra was enjoying herself. ‘Meanwhile we’ll continue mopping up. See how many of the bredlethits we can track down.’

Chameakegra felt herself bridle at the use of the derogatory term but chose to let it ride. ‘We’ll set up an interim Hydran government to reassure the Hydrans that we will eventually leave them to govern themselves.’

A flood of mauve amusement rushed across Grrndakegra’s crest. ‘How you going to form that government given that the bulk of the politicians were among the first on the list?’

‘There were plenty left,’ Chameakegra replied. ‘We have expertise from every government from all over the planet, more than enough to form a global government. Not all of them were corrupt and useless.’

‘And who will lead this wonderful new institution?’

Chameakegra had thought long and hard about this. Who was fit and proper to lead the Hydrans into a new age? Neff had provided lists of well-suited individuals for all government positions. She certainly did not want to set up a similar structure as had failed in the past? Provide fertile ground for greed, nepotism and corruption to flourish? Or was it possible to create something better, built on idealism and altruism? Could she select the right people for the job? She had thoroughly scrutinised the lists Neff had provided her with and made some decisions. ‘We will place a creative in charge; someone who does not seek glory, power or wealth. The very desire to do the job would make them unelectable. We want someone who does not want to do the job.’

Grrndakegra found that highly amusing. She guffawed out loud.  It sounded to her like a sure recipe for failure. ‘Good luck with that.’ She seemed delighted with the way things were going and displayed no interest in involving herself. It filled Chameakegra with a greater determination.

Chameakegra studied the mail with interest. Was it telling her anything she did not already know?

‘Commander Chameakegra, thank you for keeping me in the loop and furnishing me with updates as to your progress. I fully concur with your strategy.  I do wonder if you haven’t started too early. It would have been better to have the facilities set up and rehabilitation started before the extraction. I’m sure those camps will create trauma that will make the process of restoration more difficult. I am intrigued as to whether these violent and avaricious tendencies are genetically ingrained in the species and whether those tendencies can be rectified. The Hydrans are certainly an interesting race and I quite agree with you that the creativity they exude is something that would be valuable to the Federation. I’m certainly enjoying their music and art. Good luck.’

‘One more thing: Beheggakegri seems very anxious to dissociate me from this experiment. I think he’s up to something. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t placed Commander Grrndakegra there to deliberately sabotage your scheme. Watch your back. Do not worry. I am staying on the case. I am here if you need me. Judge Booghramakegra.’

Surely Grrndakegra would not deliberately do anything too underhand? If that could be proved she’d lose everything. But then there were a thousand ways Grrndakegra could make it difficult without crossing any line. She could easily subvert the entire operation while seeming to be fully on board. Grrndakegra was Beheggakegri’s tool and she knew it. Could she do anything about it though? If Grrndakegra was intent on putting sand in the ointment she could jeopardise everything.

Chameakegra thought that it might be a good idea to check out those camps, get the lunar facilities up and running and press ahead with her strategy. The sooner she could get Grrndakegra away from anything she might cause mischief with the better. Chameakegra really wanted this to work. She was certain that the Hydrans could be rehabilitated. She was even more determined to stop Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra putting a puncture in the plasma field.

The Cleansing 14 – Chapter 4 continued

Posted on by Opher

Introducing a little intrigue and dissent can boost the interest.

This Sci-fi novel has a lot of satire and a firm social footing:

Chameakegra had watched the broadcast from the bridge of the Neff with a critical eye, trying to imagine how it might be impacting the Hydran population. No sooner was it over than her communicator buzzed. The image of Grrndakegra appeared floating in the air before her. She was smiling broadly, though not in a manner Chameakegra found particularly pleasant. The tilt of her jaw and set of her eyes seemed to betray a mocking air. The image hung in the air grinning at Chameakegra for long seconds before she deigned to speak.
‘I watched the broadcast,’ she finally sneered. ‘Very reassuring. I am certain the Hydrans found it suitably uplifting.’

Grrndakegra nodded her head slowly, the grin fading into a steely stare.
‘Just to keep you informed; operation extraction begins in one hour.’

The image hung in the air for a second or two more before fading without Chameakegra able to respond.

‘What do you reckon to that then?’ Foxy muttered, nervously glancing round at the others as the screen faded to black.

They’d all assembled at the Ashley Arms to watch the broadcast. As one might expect, there was a strange atmosphere about the place, a tension like the air was full of electricity. Everyone was terrified but attempting to put on a brave face.

Out on the streets the eerie reptiles with their plastic uniforms and stun guns had faded into the background, but they were still there. Many of the craft had landed, though some still hung in the sky. For the Ashley Arms gang it felt as if they were trapped in a scary hiatus. Nobody knew what was going to happen next. The tension was palpable. Something was about to happen. It felt like they were sitting on a heap of gelignite and the slightest movement could set it off. Everybody spoke in hushed tones with sly glances in all directions. There was no getting away from the fact that they had been invaded. What was uncertain was what the lizards’ next move might be. They’d been hoping the broadcast might shed a little light on that.

The Ashley Arms had seemed a good choice for them to get together. At least when they were together they felt more secure. They were thankful that Nobby had opened up for his regulars. They needed a refuge. Nobody wanted to be on their own. No news was coming through the normal channels, which only served to make things worse. The radio and TV had stopped broadcasting. All you could get during the day was static. It was far too frightening a time to be isolated. They’d grabbed the kids, contacted their parents and relatives to reassure them, to let them know where they were, and comfort them with the thought that it would all be OK in the end and they weren’t to worry, and headed for the safety of togetherness at the Ash. All they could do now was wait.

The alien broadcast might tell them more. They had very mixed emotions – hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

‘I don’t know,’ John muttered despondently. The whole world had come to a stop. His bus was no longer running. The shops were all closed. Nobody was going into work. Everything was at a standstill holding its breath. He did not know what he was supposed to do.

‘All bullshit,’ Billy stated angrily. ‘They are trying to keep us fucking quiet while they tighten their control.’

‘Where the fuck’s the army?’ Denby snarled. ‘Why didn’t they at least try to blow those bastards to kingdom come?’

‘They say they’re coming in peace,’ Debbie said rather hopefully.

‘They all say that,’ Denby muttered morbidly, taking a swig. ‘What’s all that stuff about removing people? Who are they removing? And taking away our countries. I tell you, these fuckers are up to no good.’ He waved his glass in the air.

‘Have you seen the size of those fuckers?’ Foxy looked aghast. ‘They’re bloody ginormous.’

Cheryl glanced nervously out the window. ‘There’s not much any of us can do. I reckon we just have to grin and bear it.’

‘That’s all very well,’ Charlene remarked, drawing her shawl tightly around her and sipping her chardonnay, ‘until the friggin’ food runs out.’

‘Maybe everything’ll open up tomorrow?’ John remarked hopefully, looking round at everyone with hopeful eyes. ‘They’ve messaged me from work. Everything’s on standby.’

‘They never said anything about when we’re going back to normality in that fucking broadcast,’ Foxy remarked.

‘Well the shops better be opening soon,’ Charlene remarked, drawing herself up haughtily, clutching her shawl to her and tilting her head. ‘They’ll be nowt to eat.’

‘Stopped serving food here,’ Foxy remarked with a wistful look at the bar.

‘Be grateful that you got your beer,’ Kathy remarked. ‘Might not have that for too much longer.’

They all went quiet, contemplating the future and wondering.

‘We’re bloody English,’ Billy suddenly spouted. ‘You know, never ever ever will be slaves. We shouldn’t be sitting here doing nowt. This is a fucking invasion. We should be out there doing something! Protesting and kicking up hell!’

They all stared at him.

Fortunately Beheggakegri had not mentioned the Judge again. Perhaps he had forgotten? Sang knew he could not be so lucky. Beheggakegri never forgot. It was merely that the Judge had not come to his attention for a while and he’d been focused on other issues. When she did loom back into his attention it would likely elicit another explosion that Sang would find himself in the impact zone of. He searched around for a solution and came up with a possibility.

Probably a long shot, but one that might possibly prove tempting enough.
‘Judge Booghramakegra, we are in grave need of a Judge to preside over an extremely exacting judgement in Extol 3. You may have heard of the complicated situation regarding the conflict between two advanced civilisations, both individually worthy of entry into the Federation but both showing loathing and aggression towards each other – a very complex and difficult judgement. The case has featured very prominently in the galactic media. As it is such an intriguing situation I am certain that you have been following it.’
‘Unfortunately, Judge Forcasi has unexpectedly died leaving the judgement hanging. We require an experienced Judge to pick up the threads and solve the impasse. You appear to be the only available Judge capable of dealing with the issue. – Sang – Deputy Head UFOR.’

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267855549: Books

The Cleansing 13 – Chapter 4 (The Broadcast)

Posted on by Opher

I wanted to use the novel to take a dispassionate view of humanity – our successes and failures – to look at us with an objective eye as a superior alien might do.

Chapter 4 – The Broadcast

‘People of Hydra,’ unlike Grrndakegra’s frightening image of herself, Chameakegra had carefully chosen a shot of the solar system in all its glory as the backdrop to her broadcast. She hoped the beauty of the stars and planets might produce a soothing effect. The last thing she wanted was to scare the life out of the Hydrans.
‘My name is Chameakegra and I am the Commander of the Federation mission to the planet we call Hydra, the water world. The Federation is an intergalactic association of intelligent life. I work for UFOR – the United Federation of Races. Our intention is to find intelligent life, nurture it, and incorporate it into the fraternity of the Federation.’

This was at least partially true. There was no need, at this point, to terrify them by mentioning judgements and the weeding out of unsuitable species.
‘We are aware that this intervention will have caused you great stress. I would like to assure you that we mean you no harm. This is not an invasion. The people of the Federation are peaceful. We are here to assist you to a better future. We want you to prosper and will restore your full autonomy in due course. For the next day or two we would like you to stay at home, stay off the streets, and not go about your usual business. We will inform you when it is time to go back to work and get your lives back to normality. For the time being schools, shops, and offices will be closed. This will only be for a day or two. Do not worry. Things will soon return to how they were.’

Chameakegra paused to allow what she had said to sink in. There was a lot more she wanted to convey, but she did not want to overload them. In their shocked state they were not likely to be receptive, but she figured some explanation was better than none. If nothing else, the positive message and soothing tone might allay fears.

‘For a short time we will be taking control of your planet so that we can improve your institutions, education, manufacturing, science, and technology. We bring many wonderful gifts. You will shortly see that your lives will run on a far better footing. You will be more prosperous. The quality of your lives will greatly improve. When that interim period is over we will return the planet to you and hope that you may wish to voluntarily join our Federation and take your place as equal members of our galactic community.’

She thought it best to confront their fears directly, and Grrndakegra’s broadcast, full on.
‘We are aware that our appearance might seem frightening to you, but I would like to assure you that we are not at all scary. We are people just like you, and our intentions are friendly and peaceful.’

Chameakegra’s voice was so low and smooth it almost purred.
‘In the short term some of the things that will happen may seem frightening, but I would like to reassure you that they are for your benefit. You might not fully understand or appreciate how this will help you, but we are hopeful that in time you will come to see the wisdom of our actions.’

She had decided to tackle the thorny issue of the military and attempt to turn it into a positive.
‘We have already completely nullified all military bases across the entire globe. There will no longer be wars or conflict between nations.’

She allowed that to embed itself into their minds. Surely that had to be a big plus. War was the most terrible scourge. Nobody liked it, yet she could understand how the removal of their defences would leave the Hydrans feeling vulnerable. Could she turn it into a plus?

The next issue was one that had to be addressed – probably the most difficult of all. Hydrans were tribal and, at a stroke, she was telling them their tribalism was over and that they had lost all jurisdiction over their own destiny. That was hard for them to take, but it was best to state the facts and face it head on.
‘We have suspended all governments and political parties. There will no longer be any artificial division into nations. All Hydrans will be united into one global community. In a short while we will enable a world government to be constituted. We know that this will help you to prosper.’

She knew this part of her announcement was a possible negative for many Hydrans, but that goylit had to be grasped. Now she was poised to come up with a proposition that might prove even harder for them to take. She had to prepare them for what was about to happen in the hopes it might soften the blow.
‘In a while we shall be removing those elements we have identified as holding your progress back. I can assure you all that nothing unpleasant will happen to these individuals. They will be removed in order for us to enable their rehabilitation. The overly greedy, the belligerent and violent, those maddened by lust for power, and those with criminal intentions will be re‑educated and returned in a form preferable for themselves and for the good of your world. We aim to leave you with a fairer, friendlier, and more pleasant society based on compassion and equality.’

Chameakegra hoped that sounded suitably vague and positive. She now had to leave things on a positive note. Her purring voice was laden with sincerity.
‘Once again we apologise for the short‑term distress we have caused. I can only reassure you that this will be temporary. We in the Federation look forward to a bright future in which Hydrans are welcomed into our fold. We promise a future of prosperity and the sharing of science and technology that can only be dreamed of. We ask for your cooperation during this difficult transition. We hope that you can understand and bear with the disruption of these early stages. Thank you.’

The vista of planets and stars continued for a short while before fading away.

Chameakegra played back the broadcast and grimaced. It was crap. But at least it was five hundred times better than the one Grrndakegra had made. While it might not win over many Hydrans, at least it was unlikely to send them into fits of terror. She pressed the button to put it out.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books

The Cleansing 10 – end of Chapter 2

Posted on by Opher

As this book is set in the present with the arrival of an alien race with superior technology I wanted to use a group of working class Reform voting characters and their reaction to the arrival of aliens.

The novel deals with the social and political stupidities of human civilisation juxtaposed with the brilliance of our creativity.

This is the end of Chapter 2:

Grrndakegra’s scutes flared yellow with flashes of white. Anger mounted. Chameakegra had outflanked her — inexcusable. ‘Beheggakegri will not like this. Not at all.’

Chameakegra shrugged, sipping her synth with deliberate calm, taking pleasure in Grrndakegra’s discomfort. Petty, perhaps, but satisfying. The Judge held power. Beheggakegri would have to lump it. Yet she knew annoying Grrndakegra could prove costly. The Giforian could wreck things simply by how instructions were carried out.

Grrndakegra sat bolt upright, waves of green and white obvious. ‘You have gone behind our backs.’

‘Not the way I see it,’ Chameakegra simpered, sipping her synth. ‘I have detailed knowledge of these Hydrans. It was necessary to clarify instructions from Beheggakegri. The situation is not black and white.’ She noted Grrndakegra’s disquiet with a degree of pleasure. She had not taken to her at all. The haughtiness was infuriating. But for the mission’s sake she needed control. Annoying Grrndakegra would not help. ‘We must give the Hydrans the best chance of progressing,’ she insisted firmly. ‘Too heavy‑handed and we create predictable failure. Judge Booghramakegra agrees they need all possible assistance. She has decided to retain an active role throughout.’

Chameakegra left that thinly veiled threat dangling.

Grrndakegra’s fangs clicked, tail twitching as white anger coursed through her crest and scales. Beheggakegri would not like this. This was not how it was meant to proceed. She slammed her beaker down so hard half the contents leapt into the air. ‘I will discuss this with Beheggakegri.’

The coming of the aliens was not so much an invasion as a take‑over.

One moment the skies were clear, the next they were full of alien craft. No warning. No sign on even the most sophisticated radar systems. They arrived in an instant, leaving no time to react.

Every military site across the globe was seized at once. All weapons nullified. No shots fired. Government offices, political bodies, media outlets — occupied. The invasion was peaceful and instant, or at least as peaceful as possible.

The shock was profound. In seconds the Hydrans went from ordinary routines to victims of alien occupation. Disbelief collapsed into hysteria. Chaos was far from peaceful.

Grrndakegra found it immensely amusing. Hydrans rushed like headless giffors, cowering, gathering offspring, crashing vehicles in panic. Everyday rules evaporated. Traffic lights, speed limits, even which side of the road to drive on — discarded. Cities gridlocked, screams and wails prevailing.

In full regimental costume, Grrndakegra appeared on every network and device. Speaking via her comulator in every language and dialect, she instructed the population to go home and await further orders. They were now under Federation control. As an afterthought, she reassured them they were safe.

The sight of a huge iridescent reptile giving orders did little to reassure. Panic intensified. Mobs rampaged, buildings burned, vehicles overturned, shops looted. Fear turned to anger, destruction the outlet.

From her vantage on the Quorma, Grrndakegra shook her head. Were these beings truly candidates for Federation entry? She flapped her crest in disbelief and barked orders.

More craft landed, troops spilling onto streets armed with weapons that stunned and immobilised. Order was restored, though the presence of reptilian aliens with guns did little to calm terror.

Grrndakegra announced she would address every parliament and governing institution that evening. Again she reassured them: no harm intended, only assistance toward a better existence. In the meantime, they were to return home and wait. Few were reassured.

Hydrans struggled to believe giant lizards wielding guns meant peace. Where was the army? Where was defence? Why was nobody coming to their rescue? Communications networks flooded with hysteria. It was the end of the world.

By evening, calm returned. No signs of violence, mobs dispersed, alien troops on guard. Rioters had been stunned and carted off, not killed. The aliens weren’t pillaging. They were keeping order.

Escape was impossible. Transport hubs shut down, highways closed. People gathered kin, huddled around media devices, waiting. Politicians silent, news frozen. All they could do was wait.

Many turned to churches, mosques, temples, praying for divine intervention. Most simply went home. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

As time passed, hope flickered. Perhaps these reptiles meant no harm. Not that there was choice. Military forces were no match. The Hydrans had been overpowered without a bullet fired.

There were no choices left. They waited.

Ron sat at his computer, trying to conjure a character, an event, a scene — anything. He was beginning to think he had writer’s block. The synapses weren’t firing. He desperately needed something to spark a chain reaction, the torrent of ideas that usually toppled inside his head like electric dominoes. Not today. Not this week. Not last week. His head was empty.

Perhaps he should give up on a new book and edit one already produced. Desperate. He disliked editing. Unlike the satisfaction of imagination flowing onto the page, editing was a chore.

Worse still, Liz had urged him for years to promote his published books. That idea filled him with horror. Wasting writing time on tedious commercial exercise? No. If nothing happened soon, he would have to send another package to agents and publishers. They could do the promotion. Surely he had proved himself? He was a proven writer. There was a market. All he needed was an agent or publisher to handle the tiresome tasks and leave him to write.

Except nothing was happening. No epic waited to burst out of his chest like a xenomorph. Nothing to write about.

That’s when Ron glanced out the window and saw an armada of alien craft descending from the sky.

‘What the fuck??’ exclaimed Billy Smythe, mouth open, eyes wide, pint spilling over his lap unnoticed. Everyone stared out the pub windows at the strange craft materialising above.

‘Fuck,’ Charlene mumbled.

‘Fuck!’ John, Debbie, Foxy, Kathy, Denby, and Cheryl exclaimed in unison.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Denby gasped, staring at the gigantic craft hovering in the sky directly above them. You could always count on Denby to be more articulate than anyone else.

It had to be some kind of stunt. Surely it had to be a stunt.

But the silence in the Ashley Arms told another story. No laughter, no banter, no clinking of glasses. Just the stunned hush of ordinary people watching the impossible unfold.

Above them, the alien leviathans hung motionless, blotting out the heavens. Hydra had changed forever.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books

The Cleansing (sequel to Judgement) now available in Paperback! Xmas!

Posted on by Opher

Yes!! The Paperback and eBook are both now available! Get yours quick!

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books

Amazon.co.uk : ron forsythe

The Cleansing – A Sci-fi tale of aliens, social justice and political intrigue.

Posted on by Opher

Phew!! Here it is! I’ve been working flat out on this – writing, editing, rewriting – finally – here it is!

Do you like the cover? I was playing around with AI. That’s me! (No – not the lizard!)

I had fun writing this follow up to Judgement. Taking a hackneyed theme and giving it my own spin. Making it relevant and contemporary. Giving it some humour. Making it a fun read.

Here’s the eBook. The Paperback, Hardback and Audio will be out shortly!

Thanks for looking!

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books

The Cleansing – Chapter 1

Posted on by Opher

This is the sequel to Judgement – Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books -I do like writing Sci-fi that is grounded in social context and relevant to life today. I’m an idealist, a dreamer and a critic.

Chapter 1 – The Separation

‘Ron Forsythe, I duly pronounce you ‘Protector of the Planet’.

‘What the fuck??? You gotta be kidding!!’

A ball of blue oceans girdled with cotton wool, clouds in spiralling masses, continents in darker tones, forests of green and deserts of brown; the polar regions stark caps of white reflecting light into the heavens. The thin atmosphere a fragile luminous band that glows in outline against an endless inky blackness speckled with flecks of white sparkling crystal. A delicate biosphere an oasis, suspended in the infinite reaches of a heartless eternity; the intricate chemistry of life sustained only by this narrow band of air and water.

On the dark side of the planet clusters of lights mark the cities, each with diverging tendrils of light, zig-zagging  here and there, indicating  the presence of transport corridors – the most obvious signs of intelligent life.

The intelligent beings that created these cities and thoroughfares, thinking themselves so big, swelled with self-importance, feel themselves to be immune to the vagaries of the cosmos. These tiny beings teem across the surface of the planet like a bacterial infection on the skin of a peach; yet they reach for the stars and sing to the moon. They believe all knowledge and mystery will be theirs for the asking. They tempt the fates and play dice with Armageddon. They are a danger to themselves and every organism that breathes the air of Earth. They know not what they do.

The reality was that life was fragile. It could be snuffed out in an instant. These beings were complacent. They just did not realise how fragile it was. Not just the thinness of that blue line but above it – the ominous presence of the giant H-craft Quorma.

Commander Chameakegra sat in her central position on the bridge of the H-craft Neff, her crest and scutes flowing with blue waves of pleasure. Everything was right with the universe. Ostensibly she was relaxed, surveying the planet Hydra looming through the viewport below them. The Judgement was over and she had been fully vindicated. Once again her assessment had been spot on and her unorthodox methods had proved effective. Much to her satisfaction and to Beheggakegri’s chagrin, and many others in the top echelons at UFOR (the United Federation of Races) the Judge had not only backed her assessment but also agreed with her solution.

On the surface of her coloured integument Commander Chameakegra’s disposition appeared serene. Inside was a different tale. All around her the crew were bustling, gathering evidence. Chameakegra was the eye of the silent hurricane around which everything rotated. Her job was not over yet. Ever since the judgement she had been preparing, working out how to carry out her instructions.

There were many other issues for her to address, battles to be fought. Chameakegra was aware that Beheggakegri and many other elements of UFOR would be more than happy for her ‘crazy’ idea to fail. In their opinion the exercise was complex and unnecessary. It was far simpler to eradicate a suspect race rather than take a risk that they might contaminate the Federation. Chameakegra took a very different view. For her the Hydran culture had immense positive attributes that could greatly enhance the Federation. The risk was worthwhile. She was immensely pleased that Judge Booghramakegra had agreed with her. Now was the test. She had to put her plan into operation and ensure it succeeded. A different vedog of mertles.

They had to invade, take over without bloodshed and set about overhauling the governance and infrastructure of the Hydrans – nothing too hard to handle but none-the-less requiring detailed planning. Then there was the tiny issue of what to do with the Hydrans selected for excision. For Beheggakegri that was simple; they could be removed and painlessly disposed of just as would be the case with any extermination.

Chameakegra felt differently. She was not content with winning the judgement and reprieve for the Hydrans, her thoughts were taking her further down the bojirt hole of wonder. Perhaps these malevolent Hydrans weren’t lost causes? Perhaps, like the rest of the population, they too could be rehabilitated? Weren’t the Federation meant to be compassionate? Shouldn’t they set a higher moral tone than simply going for what was safe and convenient? Beheggakegri did not appear to agree.

For the moment an uneasy truce existed. Chameakegra had been instructed to separate the Hydrans into three distinct categories – Saved, Reprogrammed and Exterminated – hard enough to know where to draw the boundaries. She had to go along with that for now but there was plenty plasma to flow through those tubes. There was plenty of time to mess with those boundaries and outcomes. Further experiments on Hydran psychology might well provide better solutions. Best to keep her laser shielded for now.

Right now Chameakegra alternated between brooding and fuming, taking care to keep her emotions under control so that her crest and scutes flowed with the orange hues of command. The last thing she wanted was for the crew to sense her anger. No hint of white was to be visible on those scales. Chameakegra was resolute. She was aware that Beheggakegri, and probably the majority of the UFOR committee, viewed this whole exercise as a great act of folly. Normally the business would be done and cleansed; the Hydrans would have been quickly and painlessly removed and the biosphere of Hydra left to heal and plug the gap left. In a million years or so evolution might well have produced a superior, more stable intelligence to take the place of these psychotic apes. Nature would restore. In the big scheme of things the Hydrans would be no great loss.

Chameakegra had come to see the established process as a cold, calculated bureaucratic exercise lacking in compassion and totally inflexible. In her mind there had to be a better way. If the Federation was to live up to the values it claimed to uphold there had to be a superior doctrine to this harsh judgement and terrible heartless euthanasia. But, for now, she was a lone voice.

Chameakegra prepared herself for the battles to come. For now she had to be content with the victory she had won. The comulators were programmed and staff assigned to the task they had been presented with. The novelty caused equal amounts of perplexity, amusement and interest. The assessment team had been set to go home; now they were reassigned. A number had been rotated but the core had opted to stay. That indicated a pleasing high morale.

The Hydrans were safe for a while. There was to be no absolute cleansing. The judgement was clear on that. They had a stay of execution and an opportunity to prove themselves worthy.

Normally, following a judgement, her role would be over. Not this time. She had created her own problems. Now she was tasked with solving them. Not that she was unhappy with that. It was what she had wanted. She relished the opportunity. This was something different. It presented numerous intricate assessments that required all the resources of the Neff.

The Hydran culture might, for the time being, be secure due to her efforts but there were repercussions. Elements of Hydran society were to be identified and extracted. Chameakegra had been tasked with dealing with this unusual situation. That felt appropriate, after all, this had been her idea and the Neff, set up as an observation/assessment laboratory was ideally suited for the task. That did not make the problems easy to solve. It was quite one thing to come up with a good sounding solution during the judgement. It was quite another to put it into practice.

She sat on the bridge of the Neff feeling contented. Chameakegra loved solving problems. Inside her head the neural pathways were glowing with electricity. She had turned the mighty resources of the Neff into a different, more detailed, processor of data. They were no longer assessing the worth of a whole culture, now they were doing something that had never been done before – judging the individuals, the whole population. Hydrans were being categorised and placed in various groups according to their nature. It required a more intimate knowledge of their lives.

Instead of one judgement there were to be eight billion judgements. Fortunately, under the guidance of skilled staff, coupled with the immense amount of data available from Hydra’s own media, the comulating skills of Neff’s automated intelligence was able to perform the task.

The Judgement is Here!! Sci-fi with a social edge

Posted on by Opher

The Judgement is coming.
They have arrived—beings from beyond the stars, emissaries of a vast Federation that spans the galaxy. Their mission is not conquest, but assessment. Humanity stands trial.
Will we be welcomed into the Federation as equals… or condemned to extinction?
Our record is damning: centuries of war, cruelty, racism, and hate. Yet there is another side—love, harmony, creativity, and the fragile spark of compassion that refuses to die.
The Judge is on her way. She will weigh our worth. She will decide our fate.
The future of the human race hangs in the balance.

I write to entertain and make people think. After a good read I like to think my readers go away with something worth pondering.

While this book may have a familiar theme it is certainly written in a very different manner. Read, digest and ruminate.

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books

This is my latest novel. I wanted a new slant on a familiar theme. What do you think?

Judgement – New Sci-fi novel

Posted on by Opher

Judgement eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

The Judgement is coming.
They have arrived—beings from beyond the stars, emissaries of a vast Federation that spans the galaxy. Their mission is not conquest, but assessment. Humanity stands trial.
Will we be welcomed into the Federation as equals… or condemned to extinction?
Our record is damning: centuries of war, cruelty, racism, and hate. Yet there is another side—love, harmony, creativity, and the fragile spark of compassion that refuses to die.
The Judge is on her way. She will weigh our worth. She will decide our fate.
The future of the human race hangs in the balance.