The Cleansing – 51 – Chapter 29

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Approaching the end game. The fate of humans is being determined.

Chapter 29 – The interruption

The order, signed by Beheggakegri, came through to the bridge of the Quorma but Commander Grrndakegra was no longer there to receive it. TThratakegri, Grrndakegra’s Dref second in command, listened to the instructions. They were very clear. The experiment was to be halted. Commander Chameakegra was to be relieved of all duties and the Hydrans were to be eradicated.

TThratakegri was placed in a dilemma. Should he proceed or wait for Grrndakegra to return? The instruction was not open to interpretation. He had been attempting to contact her Commander for many hours now without success. This instruction was clear and marked urgent. He surely had a duty to begin implementation? Beheggakegri was clear that he wanted it acted on straight away. He knew that was what Grrndakegra wanted to do. She would not have hesitated.

Beheggakegri was heading another committee meeting, more of the usual, organising an assessment of a new intelligent race in some far-off reaches of the galaxy – nothing extraordinary – all very straightforward and tedious – more of an administrative task than one requiring any discussion. Normally these tiresome arrangements would have bored him to death but he was feeling particularly buoyant this morning. Rather than leave it all to Sang he’d decided to take an active role. The Hydran conclusion was fresh in his mind and had lifted his brain chemistry no end. Even this dreary mundanity had not deflated his effervescent mood.

After having thrashed out the details he was finally about to pass the business over to Sang to sort the mind-numbing details out when the portal dilated with its customary hiss. Beheggakegri was startled by this unprecedented intrusion. He looked over towards the portal to see who might dare to interrupt their session, ready to give them a blast.

 Judge Booghramakegra strode into the room.

The viewing figures for the latest Billy Smythe podcast continued to go through the ceiling as it was copied and relayed by millions of people. Not many people failed in viewing it. The fall-out was immense.

‘Friends, I have good news to report.’ The familiar smiling face of Billy Smythe peered out from millions of screens. ‘I have been in close discussions with Commander Chameakegra, who is overseeing the operations across the planet. I have impressed upon her the need for us all to keep our national identity and culture. The good news is that Commander Chameakegra accepted this and assures me that she fully means to implement my suggestions.’

Billy looked pleased with himself, though in truth that looked a little forced and his face had lost its normal ruddy glow. ‘I have had the privilege of visiting the starship Neff and looking through the plans that Commander Chameakegra has drawn up. They are extraordinary and I must say they have changed my mind in regard to the nature of this intervention by the Federation.’

Billy was choosing his words carefully, though those words didn’t sound quite like Billy. It was looking as if he might have had a little help.

‘I must admit that I have come to trust Commander Chameakegra. I believe her when she assures me that this is not so much an invasion as assistance.’ Billy tried to put an expression of honesty and trustworthiness on his face, though the features were in danger of rejecting such a foreign set of emotions. It just wasn’t like the Billy Smythe of old to accept anything on face value. ‘The Federation is made up of a large number of intelligent races from all over the galaxy. They work in cooperation with each other.’

Billy looked as if he might be reading from some autocue. The words were a little stilted and lacked the energy and passion of his normal effusive outpourings.

‘We have an opportunity to join this Federation. From what I have seen the technology and science of these advanced races far exceeds the level we have reached so we have much to profit from.’

Here Billy looked apprehensive.

‘Commander Chameakegra is tasked with helping raise us to the level of the other advanced races that make up the Federation. She is sharing new technology and science to enable us to progress. Education and the environment are being targeted to improve our lives.’

‘We can already see signs of improvement. Over the next years I believe there will be much much more. I believe that we will benefit greatly from this relationship.’

The camera zoomed in on Billy’s face. ‘Friends, I have been one of the harshest critics of these aliens,’ Billy stated, the steely gaze of sincerity hanging like a shroud on his features, although those eyes looked tired and dull, ‘but I have come to realise that this could be the best thing that ever happened to us. We are being offered a partnership – a partnership that will benefit us greatly. I believe that if we work closely with these aliens we can enable them to realise and retain the things that are important to us. We can still have our countries as well as all the benefits that come from this relationship. Instead of losing we will be gaining, gaining enormously.’

A jaded, defeated Billy Smythe, valiantly tried to look as trustworthy and sincere as required.

‘Today friends, I am changing my tune. I am asking you to give them a chance. I don’t believe this is a ploy. I have seen their power. If they wanted they could make mincemeat of us.’ Billy put on his best imploring face. ‘Let’s try working with these aliens to make a better world for us all.’

Billy’s face faded.

‘Fuck me,’ Denby remarked, turning to Cheryl. ‘Billy’s changed his tune. That sounded like a party political broadcast on behalf of the Tory Party. They’ve done a fucking job on the guy.’

‘Came over very stilted,’ Ron remarked to Chameakegra as they watched the podcast from Ron’s office in New York.

‘It’ll do,’ Chameakegra murmured.

The Cleansing – 50 – Chapter 28

Posted on by Opher

Getting near the end now. The Judge arrives. It seems that despite all the corruption intergalactic law can be brought to bear.

Chapter 28 – The Judge

When a Judge says jump you fly.

‘Come in,’ Judge Booghramakegra ordered, an icy edge to her voice.

Grrndakegra entered the room, taking note of Chameakegra and Ron who were sitting to one side; she stood before the judge outwardly composed, though her green and black scutes were testimony to the pressure she was feeling inside. She’d been summoned but still retained the cocky assuredness of someone who believed they were immune.

‘Take a seat,’ Judge Booghramakegra said curtly.

Grrndakegra sat.

‘I have brought you here to answer some questions,’ Judge Booghramakegra said sternly, looking at Commander Grrndakegra with a fierceness that was disarming. ‘I must warn you that any incorrect answers or obfuscation would have serious consequences. This is a formal court of law. Do you understand that?’

An involuntary multi-coloured wave signalled Grrndakegra’s distress but she retained her decorum. ‘I do.’ Inside her mind was spinning. Had she and Beheggakegri covered all the weaknesses? She hoped they had.

Judge Booghramakegra laced her wicked claws and began the interrogation. Her eyes sent lasers into the centre of Grrndakegra’s being. ‘Tell me, have you taken the agitator Billy Smythe in for rehabilitation?’

‘No,’ Grrndakegra replied quickly, wondering where this was going. An unexpected twist. Inside a snaking eel of doubt began swimming to the surface.

‘Why is that?’ Judge Booghramakegra asked in a dispassionate manner.

‘Because, as I indicated to Commander Chameakegra, it was felt that the Hydrans needed a safety valve.’

‘Did you have any plans to abduct this Billy Smythe?’

‘No.’ Grrndakegra was floundering but still brazening it out.

‘Did the idea of him being a safety valve come from someone else?’

Grrndakegra hesitated before answering. She had no idea what evidence Judge Booghramakegra had acquired but she suspected it had to be substantial or she would not be here. There was nothing to be gained from prevaricating. ‘Yes.’

‘Was that someone the Head of UFOR Beheggakegri?’

Again, that hesitation. ‘Yes.’

‘Let us go back to the Clacton riots,’ Judge Booghramakegra suggested. ‘Did you apprehend any of the troublemakers directly responsible for the violence?’

‘Yes,’ Grrndakegra felt she was on safe ground here. ‘We extracted over two hundred protestors and placed them in rehabilitation centres.’

‘I repeat,’ Judge Booghramakegra’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the Commander, ‘did you arrest any of the protestors directly responsible for the crimes?’

Grrndakegra looked flummoxed. ‘I’ve already said yes. We…’

‘Allow me to show you a number of clips.’ She proceeded to show tridees of various incidents and scuffles from early on in the violence. She highlighted a number of individuals who could be clearly seen to initiate the violence. ‘Did you apprehend any of these distinctive individuals? Notice that they are all wearing identical armbands.’

‘I have no idea,’ Grrndakegra was becoming more nervous. Her scutes were shimmering. She was beginning to get an inkling of where this was leading. That eel had turned into a giant anaconda and was thrashing around in her head. ‘I’d have to go back and check the records.’

‘No need,’ Judge Booghramakegra informed with breath that was surely approaching absolute zero. ‘I’ve already done a check. We identified all of those with armbands, the ones who can clearly be seen to be orchestrating the violence. Strangely, not a single one of them was detained. Why do you think that was Commander Grrndakegra?’

Grrndakegra’s integument was now doing rainbow impressions.

Judge Booghramakegra stared her down but did not relent. ‘Let us move on to the even more extreme London riots.’ She brought up a series of clips showing the beginning of the violent episodes.’ Can you see all these individuals wearing the beige balaclavas?’

‘Yes,’ Grrndakegra assented, fighting to control the beast in her head. There was no doubt now. She knew exactly what was going on. They had her. But if she was going down she’d take Beheggakegri with her. That piece of slipus filth.

‘Would you agree with me that they are the ones initiating the violence?’

‘I, er, don’t know,’ Grrndakegra hedged, hoping for a miracle, ‘I’d have to study this more closely.’

‘Allow me to put your mind at rest. We have studied the images closely. They are the ones instigating the trouble.’ The Judge’s icy demeanour hardened even more. ‘How many of these distinctive individuals do you think were detained?’

‘I have no idea,’ Grrndakegra blustered pathetically.

‘Aaah but Commander Grrndakegra I believe that you have a very good idea. I believe it was you who gave the orders and when I interrogate the officers charged with keeping order on the streets I believe they will tell me what those orders were.’

Ron and Chameakegra exchanged glances. This was approaching the crux of the matter. What was Grrndakegra going to do? She must be realising by now that the game was up.

‘I will warn you once again – to prevaricate or obfuscate in a court of law is an exceedingly serious matter. It would greatly exacerbate the penalty for any other wrongdoing. I will extract the severest penalty. Do you understand?’

Grrndakegra nodded.

‘Please acknowledge your reply verbally for the record.’

‘I do,’ the cornered Giforian uttered in a hushed whisper.

‘The answer is precisely none.’ The Judge leaned forward menacingly. ‘We have identified all the individuals in both incidents. Some are present at both. We are now bringing all of them in and will follow the trail back to where they came from and who was behind their hire.’ She paused to allow the implications to sink in. ‘Our preliminary enquiries have given us the answers to that. We will confirm this beyond all doubt.’

By now Grrndakegra’s plates were vibrating with iridescence as the panic set in.

‘Commander Grrndakegra, before I proceed any further I would like to give you the opportunity to explain yourself. This is your chance to make things easier for yourself. I shall take into account any admission on your part.’ She waited.

Grrndakegra sat with her head bowed. Inside that head her thoughts were chasing each other in a swirling tempest. They knew. They had the evidence. She looked up and met the Judge’s gaze. ‘I was brought in to do a job.’ Grrndakegra admitted.

Chameakegra and Ron both caught their breath. This was it.

Grrndakegra looked round at Chameakegra. ‘Beheggakegri wanted Commander Chameakegra bringing down and the Hydrans disposed of. He ordered me to facilitate that.’

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I hope some of you might be tempted to purchase a book or two after reading these extracts.

Thank you!

The Cleansing – 49 – Chapter 27

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Chapter 27 – Repercussions

‘Did you see any of those masked individuals being picked up by the Giforian squads?’ Judge Booghramakegra asked with an air of exasperation.

Chameakegra looked at Ron.

Judge Booghramakegra replayed scene after scene of Grrndakegra’s Giforian squads plucking violent Hydrans out of the rioting crowds. Not once did they see one of the youths with the distinctive balaclavas being snatched.

‘What does that tell you about who is involved?’

Ron rang the doorbell and stood on the step impatiently waiting.

Charlene opened the door and had a start to see him standing there. She was about to slam the door but Ron stuck his foot there and held it open.

‘We do it this way or another,’ he snarled. This time he was in no mood to be messed with.

Charly hesitated and then held the door open. Ron strode in. This was a different man to the one who had visited before. The anger was oozing out of him.

Billy was sitting in the living room and rose out of his seat in surprise at the man barging into his house. ‘What the heck!’

Ron stood glaring at him, all the frustrations and anger spilling out. So much made sense now. ‘Billy Smythe,’ he growled menacingly. ‘Which side are you on?’

Billy stood facing him, anger brewing. ‘I’m on our side, you Judas! You…’

‘Billy!’ Charly snapped sharply. ‘Listen to the man!’

‘Fifty-eight dead!’ Ron snarled. ‘That number’s likely to rise! That’s all down to you Billy!’

Billy visibly blanched and Charly gasped, a stifled sob in her throat. She gripped her jumper and grabbed hold of Billy’s arm.

‘You’re lucky it’s me,’ Ron growled, leaving Billy to fill in the alternatives. Charly tightened her grip. She knew.

‘You come with me!’ Ron ordered grim-faced.

‘I’m going nowhere.’ Billy’s jaw jutted out in defiance. ‘You want me you’ll have to drag me out.’

‘Billy, please…’ Charly pleaded, her face screwed up in anguish.

‘Billy,’ Ron said in a furious but controlled voice, his steely eyes fixed on the agitator. He’d only been in post for a short while but he was a different man. The Ron of old would not have had this resolve but he’d been through a lot and developed new facets of himself that he never knew existed. He spoke in an icy measured voice that was as hard as granite. ‘Either you come with me of your own accord and I take you on a little trip that’ll open your eyes and then bring you back to your wife unharmed,’ he nodded towards Charlene. ‘Or I summon up a Giforian or two and have you dragged out of here kicking and screaming, carted off to the rehab centre and open your eyes that way.’ He studied the man with an unflinching stare. ‘I’m easy.’

‘Billlyyyy…’ Charlene pleaded.

Billy considered it for a moment or two before realising that he really had no choice. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he glowered at Ron, ‘but you’ll not get me to change my mind.’

This committee meeting was as smooth as an Alcran’s arse. Beheggakegri was in jovial moody which was totally at odds with the material he was sharing. This time there was no dissenting voices; no calls for the process to be concluded and no objections to a termination. The committee had fallen over themselves to reconvene.

When the viddies of the riots had been dispensed with, without much in the way of a preamble Beheggakegri proposed the motion and it was passed unanimously.

The Hydran experiment was to be terminated immediately.

The Hydrans were to be eradicated. Grrndakegra was to be reallocated as terminator and the Quorma and its crew reassigned to their original brief. Chameakegra was to be stood down and the Neff returned to Gestor.

Beheggakegri hadn’t felt this good for a long while. Job done. Short and sweet.

A contented Beheggakegri sauntered out of the committee room, leaving a disconsolate Sang to tie up the formal ends, and disappeared to reacquaint himself with Lomi.

Chameakegra was waiting at a shuttle when Ron arrived with a sullen and subdued Billy. Without an audience he was a shell of a man probably internally realising how powerless he actually was.

The shuttle ride was not quite the ecstatic experience for Billy that Ron’s trip had been. Despite Ron’s reassurance he still remained anxious about the outcome. His fears were plastered all over his face. He was not certain that he would return or at least not as the man he was. He spent weeks spreading conspiracy theories about blank-minded returnees, now he had to sweat about the veracity of what he had been broadcasting.

The approach to the Neff was hair-raising. Ron watched as Billy took in the immensity of the giant H-craft. The reality of the situation finally hit home. He could see what he was up against.

‘That is what you are dealing with,’ Ron rammed home the message. He could see Billy visibly blanche. His saucer-like eyes scanned the alien craft from end to end. ‘This is the Neff – Commander Chameakegra’s ship. We can’t see the Quorma Commander Grrndkegra’s yet. It’s just as big and that’s packed with Giforian and Dref troopers equipped to carry out a rapid extermination.’ Ron fixed him with a withering glare. There was no need to spell it out further. By now Billy was turning green and his hands were quivering.

They docked and the silent Giforian Commander took Billy Smythe on a quick tour of the working areas with their comulator terminals. This was no congenial demonstration; the silence made it all the more intimidating. Billy stared in horror at the sheer enormity of the operation. His whole body had turned to jelly so that he could hardly stand, looking as if he was about to pass out at any minute.

‘This is where the assessment of Earth was carried out,’ Ron informed him. ‘This is where details on every human being on the planet is being constantly updated. They have everybody’s profile.’ Ron turned to Billy – ‘Including yours.’

After the whistle-stop tour they returned to the shuttle. A subdued Billy sat queasily in his seat looking extremely frightened.

Chameakegra took them close to the Quorma and parked so they were overlooking the second enormous H-craft.

‘This is Commander Grrndakegra’s craft – the Quorma,’ Ron informed Billy. Billy hardly dared look at the gigantic craft. ‘We’re not going in,’ Ron informed him. ‘You’ll just have to take my word that it’s packed full of Giforian troopers. The ones you disparagingly call lizards and dragons.’

Billy gave a terrified glance towards Chameakegra who was studiously ignoring him. Billy had been keeping up a sullen silence throughout the trip but he had no need to speak. His face was an open picture.

‘Commander Grrndakegra and many in the higher ranks of the Federation want to eradicate humans altogether. They call us space vermin. They are looking for an excuse.’ Ron spoke quietly, the anger in his voice making the words more barbed. Ron held his eyes with piercing fury. ‘You made their case for them.’

Ron could see Billy visibly flinch as if struck with a fist. It was one thing being all brave and gung-ho in front of an adoring crowd, putting out podcasts decrying the alien invasion. It was quite another being faced with the physical reality of what they were up against.

Finally the huge Giforian Commander turned to face Billy. Chameakegra studied him with razor-sharp eyes that cut into him like blades. She had no need to say a word. Her face did the talking.

‘Time to make a choice Billy?’ Ron said coldly.

‘Commander Chameakegra here represents a positive future, a future of prosperity and growth, a future where we are offered a lifeline to prove ourselves and flourish. An opportunity you threw back in her face. Commander Grrndakegra offers the extermination of the entire race.’ Ron’s eyes searched for an answer. ‘What have you got to lose?’

‘Our country’ Billy blubbed pathetically, on the verge of tears but still clinging on to his feeble excuse.

‘You’ve already lost your country,’ Ron reminded him bluntly. ‘They took over without a shot being fired. Just look.’ He nodded towards the giant H-craft. ‘Do you, a humble man from the council estate in Hersham, backed up by rent-a-mob, really think you can stand up to the might of the Federation?’

‘It’s a matter of principle,’ Billy squeaked ridiculously, staring down at the floor.

‘No,’ Ron asserted coldly, ‘it’s a matter of stupidity.’ He pulled Billy’s chin up roughly and forced him to look straight in his eyes. ‘You’ve been used by powerful people you have no comprehension of. All those hits on your podcasts were engineered. They used you. You are a silly fool. They are using you. Can’t you see that? Are you too stupid? All that violence on the marches you organised was planned. They want us eradicated and they used you to make their case for them. For fuck’s sake – wake up!’’

Billy looked as if he did not believe it. His eyes kept flicking between Ron, Chameakegra and the huge H-ship blotting out the stars in front of them.

‘It’s true,’ Chameakegra spoke for the first time in a clipped monotone. ‘You’ve been duped.’ She was looking at Billy like he was a piece of bhufes excrement.

Ron gritted his teeth. ‘As I said Billy, it’s time to choose.’

The Cleansing – 47 – Chapter 25 (continued)

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Collaboration between Aliens and humans:

Ron watched the interview with mixed feelings. The coldness of her abduction might well fuel the fears of the protestors but overall the tone felt reassuring. The abducted were beginning to return. While their abductions had been terrifying the process they had been put through did not sound too gruesome and the end result seemed satisfactory, even positive.

Gillian, the cold-hearted vulture capitalist, was no longer following a trajectory that brought her great wealth, albeit at a great emotional cost, and was going to follow a more positive, rewarding career. That felt like a positive outcome.

According to Gillian and her husband she was still much the same as she had been except more empathetic and compassionate. She was a vindication of the rehabilitation process.

Surely the protestors would see that as a positive outcome? Surely they were not in favour of asset stripping leeches who left such misery and despair in their wake?

There was no way of telling. There did not appear to be any rationality behind the protests. It was all high-octane emotion. All Ron could hope for was that the return of the rehabilitated took the wind out of all those conspiracy theories. The abducted weren’t dead of brainwashed. That had to be good.

A flicker of hope raised its head.

The ‘Freedom March’ had its epicentre at Trafalgar Square. People were bussed in from all over Britain and flew in from all over the world. It was estimated that over two million attended the protest. They marched along all the arteries converging on the square carrying their banners, waving placards, with loudhailers leading the chanting:

‘Out Dragons Out!

‘Out Dragons Out’.

Within a short while the square was packed. Then all the roads leading to the square were clogged. London was brought to a seething halt.

Boisterous, noisy and angry, but not violent. The stewards vainly attempted to corral the crowds and the huge police presence provided a huge restraining force. The atmosphere remained charged.

Ron and Chameakegra sat in Ron’s office in New York, watching the mass protest with mounting anxiety. They had done everything they could. There had been no way of banning the protest. The groundswell had been too great. They relied on containing it. Every measure had been taken; every single body they could muster was there. But with two million people the outcome was not predictable. Chameakegra had urged Grrndakegra to keep all aliens out of sight. She had not wanted their presence inflaming the situation. Grrndakegra had readily agreed but informed her that his forces would be poised. If things kicked off they were prepared to go in and sort things out. Violence would not be tolerated and aggressive Hydrans would soon find that out.

Chameakegra did not like the sound of that but this was under Grrndakegra’s jurisdiction. All she could do was watch.

Grrndakegra chose to watch events from the Quorma where she seated herself down for a ringside view and could direct operations. She did not invite Chameakegra to join her so she settled herself nervously on the Neff.

The mass of people were crushed into the square looking towards the giant screens that had been erected, waiting for Billy to deliver his words.

All seemed to be going well right up until the missiles started flying. Little groups of protestors seemed to spring up among the crowds, all dressed in similar balaclavas, and flinging what looked like darts into the crowd. It sparked panic. There were people with darts stuck through their skulls, one with a dart in the eye. What was an orderly crowd rapidly decayed into a hysterical mob. People were crushed as the crowd tried to escape the missiles, pushing shoving, screaming. Then windows started going in. Once the fire had been lit the flames spread like crazy. Fear fed anger, anger transformed into fury and fury looked for a suitable target. The police tried to stem the riot but were soon overwhelmed. Blood-splattered people, frantic to escape, trampled others who had fallen to the ground. Carnage reigned.

The graphic scenes of violence and rampage were relayed to Ron and Chameakegra as police battled with inflamed rioters while first aiders tried to deal with the injured and ambulances carted off the crushed and beaten. Pepper spray hung in the air, glass was strewn over pavements and angry mobs, not knowing what had caused the disturbances hurled abuse and venom at the authorities.

This was the mayhem that Ron and Chameakegra had most feared.

Grrndakegra watched from the Quorma with a grim satisfaction. Even better than Clacton. Anyone would have thought this had all been planned. She sent the order for the Giforian ‘peace keepers’ to go in. Things were about to get a whole lot worse when the fearsome looking Giforians and Drefs started wading in.

Beheggakegri received the visual reports.

A great elation welled up inside him as the insipient frustration receded. He felt his appetite returning. He might not need to call upon that Ollyx Ce Frolli after all. That was a relief.

Grrndakegra had excelled herself. Time for another showdown with the committee. He stuffed a few dainties into his buccal cavity. Perhaps the committee could wait a little while longer. It was so pleasant to bask in the tranquillity of success. Besides, it would allow those Hydran scenes to fester in their crops. Beheggakegri felt elated. He settled back to rerun the tridee reports – stupid inflamed Hydrans hurling themselves at police, properties on fire and valiant Giforians plucking violent Hydrans from the rioting crowds. Gore, glass, missiles, debris and fury. Sure made for compulsive viewing.

So much for intelligence and responsible citizens looking to take their place in the Federation. Everyone could see these feral space vermin for what they were – hopelessly vile demented apes – beyond all hope of redemption.

He helped himself to another tumbler of synth and waved for Limo to keep producing the dainties. No need to send this round to the committee members. They already had their links. Just sit back and savour the fall of drangling Commander Chameakegra.

Let the committee contact him and request they reconvene.

He was loving this. This would completely vindicate him and cement his power.

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The Cleansing – 44 – Chapter 23

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Alien intrigue and populist revolt. The chickens are coming home to roost! I wanted to illustrate human nature in both the actions and thoughts of the aliens and the humans too.

Chapter 23 – Action

Beheggakegri was unable to settle. He was even off his food. The last few committee meetings had been unpleasant. A schism had opened between him and the rest of them, Sang in particular. In a way it had always been there. He’d told them what to do and they’d deferred. This was different. He still told them what to do but he was never certain that they were going to do it. He wasn’t sure if it wasn’t just his imagination but he detected an air of defiance. They were plotting. He could sense it. Biding their time. The lasers were out. When the time was right they’d slice him into lumps. He knew it.

While he was giving out his instructions he found himself studying them one by one. Which one was the ringleader? It had to be Sang. He knew where all the bungles were buried. When would he strike? Were the others all behind him?

The tension was palpable.

In the evening he found himself picking at his food, even rejecting the new dainties Limo was serving up. He could not settle. This was all that Chameakegra’s fault – the drangling slub. If only he could rid himself of her he could decisively do away with the Hydrans with a fine display of power, re-establish control and get back to the way things were. That Chameakegra was the key. She’d made him look weak. If only her drangling shuttle would blow itself up.

He sat bolt upright. His brain was whirling.

Billy was already sitting at the kitchen table waiting. It was Thursday; his favourite day.

Charly was serving up the sausage and mash. The Smythes were not about to try any of that alien muck – even if they were virtually giving it away for nothing. They’d rather die.

She placed his laden plate down on the table and carried her own round to the other side.

Before she’d even sat herself down Billy had banged on the ketchup and was diving in, an intent expression on his face as he carved off a chunk of sausage, scooped up the mash and dipped it in the sauce.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking,’ Charlene remarked thoughtfully, cutting up her sausage in a more genteel manner.

‘What about?’ Billy looked across at her as he crammed a mouthful of best British beef sausage into his mouth.

Charlene paused reflectively, a slice of sausage with a small dollop of mash on the back of her fork. ‘What that Ron Forsythe was saying.’

Billy chewed briefly and swallowed. ‘Oh him.’

‘It’s not every day that you get the leader of the whole world in your front room,’ she replied almost indignantly.

Billy sneered, already cutting more sausage. ‘He’s no more leader of the world than our auntie Ada. He’s a stooge put in place by those aliens.’

‘That’s as maybe,’ Charly stuck her nose in the air, her tasteful forkful suspended in mid-air. ‘What he said made a lot of sense.’

‘What? That we should kow-tow to a bunch of aliens?’ He forked another big mouthful in.

‘He didn’t say that though, did he?’ Charly persisted, finally raising the fork to her mouth and taking the food.

‘He said we’d should stop fucking protesting and do what they say,’ Billy reminded her morosely.

‘He said that they are incredibly powerful; that they are assessing us and could wipe the lot of us out if we don’t watch our step.’ Charly had been very uneasy at that idea. At first it hadn’t seemed real – like the idea of another world war isn’t real – but the things Ron Forsythe had told them seemed more real as she mulled it over more. She couldn’t get it out of her head. What if the lizards were really judging us and decided to wipe us all out? There was probably nothing we could do about it.

‘Pah! Baloney!’ Billy exclaimed, irritably cutting off another chunk of sausage. His face darkened. All this talk of Ron Bloody Forsythe and aliens was spoiling the meal that he’d been looking forward to.

Charly primly sliced another piece of sausage and daubed some mash on to it with her knife. ‘I’m not so sure,’ she muttered, shaking her head worriedly. ‘We’ve seen what they can do. That new hospital the little blue men have put up in no time at all is absolutely amazing. It would have taken us years to build and cost billions.’ She peered across at Billy. ‘They took over without a single shot. Just like that. We’re helpless.’

‘Phhhh!!’ Billy grimaced and forked another mouthful in. He really didn’t want to hear all this defeatist nonsense, especially not coming from Charly.

‘He said that we should back off for a bit and see if they are as good as their word,’ Charly bristled. It was so hard to engage Billy in any kind of discussion. He was so pig-headed.

Billy laid his knife and fork down, face dark and angry. ‘That stupid lackey can say what he likes. If he had his way he’d have us rolling over and inviting them in for a cup of tea. Fucking idiot. They are using his to control us. They want us nice and docile. None of that bollocks was worth the bother!’ He picked his cutlery up. That was the end of it. He wanted to eat.

‘Except he was right,’ Charlene did not know when to stop. ‘That last demo at Clacton was used by a bunch of bully boys. That violence was horrible. And if what Ron Forsythe said is true is playing right into the hands of the people who want to kill us.’

Billy banged his fist down hard on the table causing Charly to jump. ‘Enough!’

He could relax. All the departments were beginning to work. Ron was astounded. How had Chameakegra managed to select the right people to do the job? Then he thought back to what she’d told him about the assessment process. Incredibly, the thousands of crew on the Neff had, using the unbelievable resources of her supercomputer, had somehow analysed the character and abilities of every human on the planet. That’s how they had successfully managed to extract all the ‘bad eggs’. Chameakegra had been able to slot the most capable into place. This world government was as close to perfection as you could get. Each post was carefully selected on their abilities in connection to the role required. Forget democracy and elections. This was obviously a far better process. Except it left him with one unanswered question – how on earth had he slipped through?

Not only were the government departments bedding in to become efficient operations transforming the way government operated with efficiency and resolve that was nothing short of astounding, but the full resources of the Neff had been brought to bear to assist. They all had a supercomputer on tap. Nimble blue Xerces swarmed over construction projects, large lumbering Leff coordinated and manipulated, Giforians, Def, Solarians, Arkers, Marlans, Minorians and Jerb scurried around doing whatever was required. Chameakegra strode around overseeing the project in her intense single-minded manner. This was her baby and she fully intended to see it mature into adulthood.

Of Grrndakegra Ron saw little. The Giforian Commander kept her distance, restricting her operations to the extraction and rehabilitation process. Ron couldn’t tell them apart if he saw them stalking the corridors of New Hope –the name they had given to the World Government building on Turtle Bay that had once been the UN headquarters. But then he couldn’t tell the differences between any of the various races of aliens. It was only when there were a few of the same race together that he was able to discern nuances in facial characteristics. That led to a few embarrassing exchanges in the corridors of New Hope when he thought he had spotted Chameakegra only to discover it was another female Giforian altogether. He’d learn.

The efficiency of government meant that he could relax a little; he did not have to be hands-on with every aspect. He could delegate with a high degree of faith that things would get done properly. In his experience that was remarkable. There was no pulling in different directions. Everyone was on board united behind a shared vision. He’d never worked in an organisation quite like it. All the places he’d worked in had different factions all wanting different things, blaming everything that went wrong on management and doing their best to undermine and place obstacles. Workplaces resembled war zones. This was different. There was a shared vision, trust and efficiency.

With the government working efficiently, even if progress appeared slow because of the immensity of the task, Ron could turn his full attention to countering the protests and attempting to ensure that any ensuing violence did not bring down the wrath of UFOR on them. He could fully focus on Billy Smythe.

The Time Traveller – Out now!! Paperback, Hardback and Kindle!

Posted on by Opher

The Time Traveller: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798251954647: Books

Billionaire Brian Nether wanted someone to build him a time machine. He found a genius, a tormentor, and a friend in the eccentric Clive Hilditch.
Brian steps into the machine expecting nothing more than a glimpse of the past. Instead, he is hurled into a world that should not exist — a Rome reshaped by his own arrival, a Republic trembling on the edge of empire, and a future that is no longer guaranteed.
Lost in a century of war, ambition, and betrayal, Brian discovers that every choice he makes ripples through time. What appeared straightforward reveals itself to be far more intricate than he had ever anticipated.
His insecurities dictate the man he becomes. And the man he becomes may be far more dangerous than the man he left behind.
As timelines fracture and history bends around him, Brian must decide whether he is Rome’s saviour… or the architect of its darkest age.
History can be rewritten. But time always takes its toll.

I’d be delighted if you take a look!

The Cleansing – 41 – Chapter 21

Posted on by Opher

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278914952: Books

A polite confrontation between two rivals with opposing views:

Chapter 21 – Changes

‘Come in,’ Chameakegra said, indicating a seat next to a low mense on which were two tumblers of synth.

Grrndakegra had not been invited into these private quarters on the Neff. She looked round at the room with some curiosity. It was strange, so very strange. The walls had these oblong structures on them with strange shapes and colours. The mense seemed to be made of some natural substance. There was a peculiar noise wailing away.

When Chameakegra had messaged her and invited her for a casual evening of relaxation she had not known what to make of it. What had Chameakegra meant? What ploy was this?

The two of them might have had joint command but they had been operating autonomously with the minimum coordination or contact – particularly following Chameakegra’s outburst. Grrndakegra had been supervising the extraction process, the decommissioning of all military equipment and overseeing the setting up of lunar facilities. Chameakegra had been working on the Hydran government with its various departments. The two of them had been involved with the new energy grid but once the decisions had been made that was running itself. The need for them to work together was minimal. Then this. Out of the blue she’d received this invitation. What was going on?

At first Grrndakegra was going to decline but her curiosity got the better of her. What was Chameakegra up to? It felt as if it might be best to go along and find out. As Beheggakegri had suggested; there might be something to be learnt that she could use against her, something to be found out about her peccadillos. What was there to lose?

Chameakegra looked relaxed, dressed casually with a pleasant blue hue to her scutes. Grrndakegra found herself hoping that her own scutes were suitably friendly. She daren’t look but doubted they were. This visit was making her feel uncomfortable.

‘I call this my Hydran room,’ Chameakegra remarked, seating herself opposite Grrndakegra.

Grrndakegra peered round at the weird room. There was a soft covering underfoot. The walls were coloured and muted lights created a relaxed atmosphere, not that Grrndakegra was at all relaxed; she remained fully on guard.

‘Try the synth,’ Chameakegra suggested.

Grrndakegra took a sip and very nearly spat it out. The stuff certainly wasn’t synth. It tasted like liquid fire.

Chameakegra chuckled at the Giforian’s reaction. ‘Sorry. I should have warned you. Just the barest sip.’

Grrndakegra grimaced and put the tumbler down. Was her host trying to poison her? Was that the plan? She glared at her hostess.

‘It’s Hydran,’ Chameakegra explained. ‘An intoxicating beverage they call whiskey. It certainly has a kick. Probably a bit of an acquired taste. It’s the ethyl alcohol that gives it that kick. I’ve grown to like it. When you get more used to it you can make out all manner of flavours and nuances. Great to relax to.’

Grrndakegra eyed the beaker suspiciously. She did not know if she’d ever want to get used to that burning fluid.

‘I thought it might be an idea to have an evening of Hydran culture,’ Chameakegra explained, sipping her whiskey.

‘So that’s what that noise is,’ Grrndakegra remarked, beginning to twig what this was about.

Chameakegra nodded. ‘You see, I find this culture more fascinating than any other I’ve ever visited. While it is obvious that these Hydrans have some extremely unpleasant attributes I feel it is good to understand that there is another side to them; they are extremely creative.’

‘Well, judging from the taste of that whiskey and this wailing sound I can’t say that this Hydran culture is something I’d be particularly interested in exploring.’

Chameakegra laughed. ‘As with all new things, it takes time to understand something as different and complex as this. I have an advantage. I have been here a long while carrying out the assessment and completely immersed myself in their culture.’

Grrndakegra was impressed with how relaxed and cheerful Chameakegra seemed. She must know that she was in cahoots with Beheggakegri actively working against her, yet here she was being friendly. Nothing made sense. She did not seem to have taken umbrage at his lack of appreciation or derogatory remarks. The past confrontations and harsh words seemed to have been put to one side. This was a complete charm offensive. What was she hoping to achieve? She allowed herself a little smirk. Whatever it was it was doomed to fail.

‘I hoped you might give it a try and come to appreciate a little of what makes them tick.’

‘I doubt that very much,’ Grrndakegra replied. ‘They seem like a bunch of primitives to me; primitives with nasty habits.’ But a little part of her was intrigued. So this was Chameakegra’s ploy. She had invited her round to try to win her over to the Hydran’s side. Well that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

Chameakegra did not seem to be in the least put off. ‘What you are standing on is an Indian rug. It was handwoven by Hydrans from animal fur.

Grrndakegra looked at the rough material with its strange designs. Her eyes went a little funny. The scrolly shapes seemed to draw her in to its rich coloration.

‘The sound you are listening to is called classical music. Hydrans regard it as a sophisticated pinnacle of their culture.

Grrndakegra found herself listening to the sounds. She could distinguish a number of different types of noises blending together. There was a rhythm to it, a distinct flow. ‘Sounds like a noise.’

‘Come, look at these,’ Chameakegra rose from her seat and led Grrndakegra over to the oblong shapes on the wall. ‘These are works of art. The Hydrans use pigments to create representations of other Hydrans, animals, landscapes or scenes.’

Chameakegra’s obvious enthusiasm was wasted on her. She peered at the squiggles of colour. ‘I can’t make out any images what-so-ever.’

Chameakegra chuckled again. ‘That’s because this one is an abstract by a Hydran artist called Miro. He drew out imagery from his subconscious and was famous for his bold use of colour and strange esoteric imagery.’

‘Certainly vivid colours,’ Grrndakegra admitted. ‘Can’t make any sense of it though.’

‘Here,’ Chameakegra pointed, ‘That’s a very stylised bird. Joan Miro was well known for his use of child-like imagery.’

‘I can certainly agree with that. A child could certainly have produced that.’

Chameakegra led her along her collection of art and photography then shared a couple of poems. She summoned up the tridee to show some dance and changed the music to a raw simple sound as they wandered through her large collection. ‘They call this rock ‘n’ roll,’ she explained, and this,’ the music changed to a droning sound ‘Indian classical’. They roamed around the room with Chameakegra picking up artefacts from alcoves, encouraging Grrndakegra to handle them, feel their texture, and appreciate their shape and colour, while providing some commentary on their history and importance.

Despite her misgivings Grrndakegra found some of this fascinating. These Hydrans certainly had a range of artistic creations. She could see that, even though most of it was crude and vulgar, others rather repulsive or strange. Chameakegra explained how each of the hundreds of cultures had created their own styles of music, dress, artefacts, dance and art all resulting in an amazing richness. ‘As imaginative as their multiple ways of killing and maiming,’ Grrndakegra retorted.

They returned to their seats and talked. Chameakegra sipped her whiskey and, after a little while, Grrndakegra picked up her tumbler, sniffed the contents and took a tiny sip.

The Cleansing – 38 – Chapter 19 continued

Posted on by Opher

Detailing the life of a reluctant leader who is giving his all in order to make things work; to make things better. We need more of them.

I write Sci-fi in order to illustrate the human condition.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278914952: Books

That evening Ron took much needed time off. He was burnt out. Sitting in his favourite armchair in front of his favourite log burner, sipping coffee (three sweeteners plenty of his favourite barista oat milk) by the side of his favourite (and only) wife with Woody at his feet he relaxed. Casting a wistful glance over towards his silent computer with its sad looking office chair, all beat up and worn out, he hadn’t realised how contented he had been stringing words together for nobody to read and relaxing in his quiet orderly life.

‘You look knackered, Ron.’

He smiled at Liz. ‘I stopped being knackered a long time ago. I’ve descended into the fiftieth level of total oblivion.’

‘You need to look after myself.’

‘Look after myself. I’m so busy I’ve forgotten who I am.’

Liz looked worried.

‘There are a million things to do. So much going on. I have to check all the new departments are working. We’re overhauling education. You should see the new techniques and equipment the Federation are bringing in. And they’re creating completely new schools. Amazing. The energy plants are starting up. They call it quantum power. Beyond me. But those little blue Xerces swarm over things and wallop a whole new plant is up and running in no time. They are genius at constructing, so nimble and strong. Schools, power plants, factories, homes, bridges. You name it. The changes are phenomenal.’ Ron was rattling off like a machine gun with a glued trigger. ‘Of course it’s causing no end of kickback. People don’t like change. They’re railing about being banned from various areas. Lots of gripes about the military being dismantled. The biggest thing all over the world is the loss of nationality. I just don’t know what we can do about that. You can’t please some people no matter what you do.’

‘They’re worried, that’s all,’ Liz murmured, reaching over to pat him on the arm. ‘You can’t expect this degree of change without some kick back.’

Ron smiled at her. She was always such a calm, rational head. Just sharing things was a relief. He sipped his coffee, nectar of the gods, and stared at the soothing flames in the log fire.

‘Another huge worry is these bloody protests,’ he frowned deeply, staring into the depths of the fire then looked sideways at Liz. ‘This Billy Smythe is really stirring things up. There are millions following him on line. It’s becoming a monster.’

‘People have to have an outlet for their feelings. That’s good – a safety valve.’

‘Not like this it isn’t. Every boot boy in the country is latching on to it.  That last one at Clacton was appalling. There was all manner of violence. It made us look like a bunch of savages. Just shocking. The thing is that these idiots don’t realise that we are still being judged. There are people in the Federation who want to do away with us.’

‘What? This Commander Chameakegra?’ Liz looked shocked. ‘I thought she was friendly?’ Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Ron, beginning to understand what had made him so scared.

‘No, not Chameakegra,’ Ron said with a weary sigh. ‘She’s fine. There are others. And she’s none too sure about this Commander Grrndakegra who’s carrying out the round up. I think she thinks she’s been put in place to do a job on us.’

‘So, what can you do?’

‘Well all this protest is playing into their hands. The violence is proving their case for them. They want to prove that we’re a violent bunch of yobs who deserve to be exterminated.’

Liz sat pensively staring at the fire before looking across at Ron. ‘You could try going round to see this Billy character, explain things to him and see if you can’t make him see sense.’

Ron looked thoughtful.

The Cleansing – 37 – Chapter 19 continued

Posted on by Opher

Is the democratic process the best way to elect leaders or should they be selected via an interview and application process as with every other job? That might ensure that they are not psychopaths, sociopaths and narcissists and have the right skills to do the job!

The world leader appointed by the aliens did not want to do the job, wasn’t motivated by power or greed, and was a good, able man.

‘UFOR?’

Chameakegra chuckled, immediately dissipating some of the tension. She visibly relaxed and that had a similar effect on Ron.  ‘UFOR is the United Federation Of Races’

‘Right.’

‘Beheggakegri is head of UFOR and a stickler for rules and an easy life. He thinks that all Hydrans are psychotic apes who are beyond all hope. In his view you are all an annoying bunch who should have been dealt with long ago. You are wasting valuable eating time. You Hydrans have failed the assessment and he wants to look for any excuse to terminate you all.’

Ron considered this for a number of seconds then he spoke in a hesitant voice. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, this seems to fly in the face of logic. It seems hypocritical to me.’

Chameakegra looked confused. She’d lived with the philosophy all her life and couldn’t see anything wrong with it. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ Ron shrugged, ‘you have a supposedly morally superior race of highly intelligent bods coming along making judgements on other people. This bunch of people at UFOR decides that we’re too violent so they are going to exterminate us. Is that some kind of oxymoron?’

‘How do you mean?’ Chameakegra was at a loss.

‘What I mean is that it is terrible for us to hurt one another but OK for your lot to wade in and exterminate the whole lot of us. That smacks of hypocrisy to me. Which is the more violent?’

‘But,’ Chameakegra replied searching around for the explanation, digging up the standard reply from her training, ‘It’s for the greater good, the good of the whole Federation, trillions of people. If we allow a canker to set in by permitting a devious, aggressive race in to the Federation it would upset everything. It could cause immense strife, even war. We can’t take the risk. All risks have to be eliminated. That’s how we have achieved such a peaceful coalition of very different races. We have eradicated all violence and created a federation of races based on equality.’

‘Yes,’ Ron agreed, ‘I can see that. But,’ he looked Chameakegra right in the eyes, ‘that doesn’t make it right does it? You can’t say you’ve eradicated violence when you go around destroying billions of other people. That is extreme violence.’

‘But it is done painlessly…’ Chameakegra tailed off, thinking about what Ron had said.

Ron shook his head. ‘Never mind. I reckon we’d better put that to one side for later. Right now we have to do a bit of planning to ensure that the worst doesn’t happen.’

Chameakegra pulled her mind back into focus. ‘Right. Let us carry out some strategic planning. Firstly, we have to prevent any further acts of violence.’

Ron sighed and began to wonder how he was possibly going to achieve that.

‘I will make it a priority to get the extraction completed with the minimum fuss,’ Chameakegra promised. ‘That should no longer cause major disruption. We are basically hunting out the stragglers. There won’t be mass round-ups all over the place. That phase is over. I’ll liaise with Grrndakegra and get that done as painlessly as possible.’

Ron knew who Grrndakegra was. They’d talked about the Giforian Commander who was jointly in charge of the operation. ‘Is she a problem?’ Ron questioned how the operation had been carried out. ‘Only it all seemed very confrontational and overly aggressive.’

Chameakegra agreed but was reluctant to say. Grrndakegra was an unknown factor. ‘I think Grrndakegra is alright. She’s a bit like Beheggakegri, overly officious, that’s all.’

Ron looked doubtful. ‘OK.’

‘I’ll sort Grrndakegra out,’ Chameakegra reassured him, wondering to herself if that was possible, ‘and I’ll see if I can’t rush through the lunar facilities so that we get the extractions out of those camps. That’d remove the focus for disquiet.’

‘If we could start getting a few of the extracted ones back so that people can see that all the conspiracy theories are wrong. That they haven’t been bumped off or had their minds wiped clean.’ Ron mused.

‘Yes, I am sure we can do something. We have the counsellors that the Judge has sorted in place now and some of the facilities are fully up and running. I’ll get things moving on that score.’ She was confident that she could force some movement out of Grrndakegra.

‘Doesn’t need to be a huge number to start with,’ Ron remarked, reflecting on the situation. ‘Just so long as they see that some of those who have been extracted are going to be returned and have not been harmed.’

Chameakegra studied him at length. ‘Good. Now the onus of responsibility moves on to you. You need to get all the departments of government up to speed. That is crucial’

Ron nodded, fully knowing how difficult that was going to be – new structures, new people, new systems, new philosophy. It was going to take some organising and setting up. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get them organised. I’ve got some good people in place.’

She smiled. She knew he had good people in place; she’d placed them there. ‘I’d start with security,’ she suggested. ‘Controlling that violent minority is an absolute priority.’

‘On it,’ Ron replied, wondering how he was going to deal with that one. He looked thoughtful. ‘I’ll chase up the education side. I know that’s more long-term but that is crucial. Your guys are putting in the new energy system. That will make a big difference – when everyone starts to receive free energy that’s bound to create a positive response.’ He strained his brain to think of what else might be important. ‘It’s going to be a mixed bag on the environment side, I’m afraid. There will be those who think that helping nature along is a great thing to do and there are those who have lost livelihoods or just object to being restricted. They think they’ve got a right to roam where they like and resent anyone telling them where they can’t go, particularly aliens. There’s bound to be some unrest.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ Chameakegra said. ‘If we are going to restore the ecosystem it has to be done.’

Ron agreed. ‘The decommissioning of all military equipment and bases is proceeding well. Although your lot are carrying it out we have human involvement. That ones more of a short-term loss big long-term gain. The worst is over. The personnel have already been demobbed along with all the personnel from supporting industries. That’s a lot of displaced, highly exasperated people..’

‘We are ensuring that everyone gets a good measure of food and enough of your ‘money’ to have a good quality of life.’

‘That certainly takes a little of the wind out of sails,’ Ron agreed, nodding in appreciation. ‘I was going to ask you about that. What is this food stuff?’

The Giforian chuckled. ‘Do they not like it?’

‘Oh, they like it alright, once they’ve got used to it. In fact it’s delicious. It’s just that nobody knows what it is.’

‘It’s designed to suit your pallets, to taste really good. It has all the nutrients required and the various flavours and textures maintain interest over time.’

‘Yes, but what is it? Plant or animal or both? Some tastes and feels like meat; some like vegetables and the sweet dessert things are simply to die for. But nobody can identify what the flavours actually are. They’re like nothing we have tasted before.’

Once again Chameakegra found it amusing. ‘None of that food has ever been near to a plant or animal. It was designed in a lab and created in food producing plants. Our research has obviously paid off if people are enjoying it.’

‘It’s certainly a bonus for us that nobody is going hungry,’ Ron remarked, looking extremely impressed. ‘For the first time in the whole of history there are no starving people anywhere on the planet. Every bit of good news helps. We’ll win ‘em over.’

‘But back to those displaced workers; giving them food and money on goes part of the way; they want jobs.’

‘We have set up retraining centres,’ Chameakegra reminded him.

‘That’ll help but it’s too slow. There are a lot of furious people out there whose life has been turned upside down.’

‘Can’t move much faster,’ Chameakegra replied looking thoughtful. ‘Education, caring professions, environmentalists, energy workers. There’s no end of opportunities. Big expanding fields.

‘I think it’s making a difference but there’s a real cyber war going on. Some people are deliberately putting out fake news, conspiracy and lies to confuse and enrage. Nobody can believe anything anymore. We need to counter that.’

‘Neff will have some ideas on that,’ Chameakegra chuckled. ‘They’ll not be a match for her.’

‘So,’ Ron reflected, ‘all departments are up and running, Things are beginning to settle and we have a plan. ‘We just have to wait until everything has settled and hope it holds together long enough so no more violent outbursts scupper us.’

Chameakegra frowned at him. ‘All that is great; if it proceeds fast enough. But it skirts around the real issue, the issue that is fanning the flames.’

Ron nodded. ‘Nationalism.’

‘Right, we’ll need to discuss just how we are going to address these cultural values so that we take the sting out of these primitive tribal nationals.’

‘I don’t reckon you should go around calling them primitives, for a start,’ it was Ron’s turn to produce a wry laugh. ‘Though I’d bloody agree with you. They’re a right shower. But if you go calling them primitive that’ll really rile them up.’

The Cleansing – 36 – Chapter 19

Posted on by Opher

I was looking to create an honest, competent Head of State, who wasn’t in it for himself, didn’t want the position, wasn’t interested in wealth or power and was trying to make the world a better place. I’m sure they’re out there!

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278914952: Books

Chapter 19 – Plans

The meeting in Ron’s office seemed more urgent than usual. Chameakegra entered and took her seat at the table, unwrapping a thin laminated sheet that was apparently her computer. She looked over expectantly.

Ron came over and took his place. This was more formal than usual. They had usually relaxed in the more comfortable seating – his a softly cushioned armchair and hers a specially designed seat to accommodate her tail.

Ron gave Chameakegra a quizzical look. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘We have to get things moving fast,’ Chameakegra explained, indicating that they did not have time for niceties.

‘But what you are trying to do is extremely radical,’ Ron protested, taken aback at what he took as implied criticism. ‘You cannot implement changes of this magnitude overnight. Even with your technology and workers it will take time. We are talking about changing peoples’ mind sets. That’s massive.’

Chameakegra regarded him with a cool quizzical expression and sighed deeply. In her opinion these Hydrans seemed worse at accepting change than drangling Drefs.

‘The protests, at camps and on-line, are beginning to build and create a groundswell.’ Chameakegra observed looking concerned.

‘So I noticed,’ Ron had been appalled at the scenes he had witnessed in Clacton. ‘I suggest that it would be a good thing to get the camps emptied and all those people processed and returned,’ he observed, taking an adversarial stance. ‘Those camps are the focus for a lot of this trouble and the missing people are a cause for all manner of conspiracy.’

Chameakegra eyed the Hydran and wondered if it wasn’t time to level with him. Could he be trusted? A lot more information might serve to bring him firmly on board but what might his reaction be? It was so hard to tell with these aliens. All species were different and, despite all her studies, Hydrans remained unpredictable. She made her decision.

‘The things is Ron, you don’t realise how important this is.’

Ron frowned.

‘This is existential.’

Ron raised his eyebrows.

‘I was sent here to carry out an assessment.’

‘I know that.’

‘But I do not believe you fully understand the gravity of the situation; that assessment was to decide whether your race is worthy or not. If they are deemed too violent they will be exterminated.’ She waited for the impact of that stark statement to register. Then she proceeded to explain. ‘The Federation sets out to protect itself. We are a tolerant equal society spread right across the galaxy. We cannot afford to incorporate races that will spread violence and disorder. If we come across a race that is likely to cause the Federation trouble we simply erase it. That’s been our policy.’ She frowned across at Ron, her facial plates taking on a pink, sincere colouration. Not that he could have interpreted that. ‘You Hydrans were very nearly erased and everything is still very much in the balance.’ She did not mention her own part in saving them from annihilation. ‘There are powerful forces out there who would like to terminate this experiment and put an end to all this. That is the process. Time is not on our side. If there is much more of this violence it will tip the balance.’

Chameakegra watched Ron’s reaction. His face had blanched. ‘I thought that assessment had already taken place?’

‘It has,’ Chameakegra stated. ‘You were found wanting. It came very close.’

‘So, if these changes do not result in a drastic improvement you are telling me that all humanity will be wiped out?’ Ron was shocked. He had not contemplated this. He’d thought the assessment was over and they were building for the future. He did not know that future was still in the balance.

Chameakegra did not need to respond.

‘How long have we got?’ Ron’s worried face searched Chameakegra’s scaly face seeking an answer.

‘With every passing protest we have less time.’

Ron’s mind was racing. ‘Re-educating a population takes a long time. We can’t get results overnight. The idea of a global government is bad enough. We can alleviate some of the unrest by promoting cultural differences and giving people their national identities.’

Chameakegra looked sceptical. ‘I’m not against keeping some cultural identity. Perhaps a gradual move to a global identity is alright, as long as we eliminate this tribal culture that is so damaging. But that is by the by. Right now we have to prevent further outbreaks of violence. That is fuelling Beheggakegri’s position. Much more and he will act.’

‘Beheggakegri?’  This was all becoming increasingly hard to comprehend.

‘Beheggakegri is the head of UFOR…’