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 – 46 – Chapter 25

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Chapter 25 – Experiences – Ups and Downs

Commander Chameakegra met Ron at the airlock as he was ushered in to the massive H-craft by the Marlan pilot. Ron was struck speechless by the enormity of what he was seeing. So much he had not thought about or realised. He had not even begun to imagine where all the armies of Xerces and other aliens had come from. Of course, they had come from here, from the Ness, where else? It had to be large to accommodate such a vast number.

Chameakegra led him through the corridors to her private quarters where she proudly regaled him with her collection of Hydran creativity. Not that Ron was at all impressed. The familiarity of the Hydran art and culture robbed it of worth; it was the H-craft and its denizens that had impacted on him. The colossal ship was a mobile city. He could not imagine the propulsion system necessary to propel it or the way this number of people could be catered for. How did they feed and support this vast number of people?

Chameakegra quickly realised that she was wasting her time trying to impress him with her indulgence in Hydran culture. Following a brief set of refreshments she took him on a lightning tour. There were things she wanted him to see.

‘This is one of the nerve centres,’ she said, showing him into what looked like an endless arena of carrel units manned mainly by large Leffs with a liberal number of Minorians and smattering of Solarians, Jerbs, Marlans and Giforians. Ron stood speechless inside the portal, staring in disbelief at the army of aliens, bustling around, talking, exchanging views and working at their terminals.

‘This is where the assessment takes place,’ Chameakegra explained. ‘Neff is scanning the information and collecting data. That is processed and these people are accessing, directing and refining. We have built up a picture of all Hydran cultures as well as individuals.’

‘That is utterly unbelievable,’ Ron replied, open-mouthed, staring around at the enormous room. He could not imagine the number of terminals or aliens he was looking at. The place went on further than he could see. ‘How many of these centres do you have?’

‘We have ten of these centres on different levels,’ Chameakegra explained matter-of-factly. ‘There’s a lot of data to process.’

‘Even so,’ Ron mumbled, having difficulty getting his head around the sheer enormity of the scene in front of him, let alone nine more the same.

‘An assessment is a thorough operation,’ Chameakegra assured him, watching his reaction with some amusement. To her this was mundane. ‘Every detail is scrutinised. We don’t like to leave anything to chance. Not only have they accumulated the information for the assessment but they have the data on individuals that have enabled us to complete the extractions and carry out the rehabilitation.’

‘I thought that was all complete?’

Chameakegra gave her Giforian chuckle. ‘It’s never complete. The pressure’s off now. You can see everybody is relaxed. All this casual interaction you are witnessing today. When we were carrying out the assessment proper everybody was focussed. You could have heard a whisper. Everybody was at their terminal directing Neff and processing and storing data. An assessment is only as good as the data you collect.’

‘Shit in; shit out,’ Ron muttered, staggered by the size of the operation. Seeing the Neff and its crew suddenly put the Federation into perspective. He had not quite grasped the enormity of the Federation. ‘Is Grrndakegra’s Quorma on the same scale as this?’

Chameakegra looked amused. ‘Of course. All H-craft are constructed on the same principles. Grrndakegra’s is not manned or set up for an assessment though. The Quorma was sent to carry out an eradication. That’s why the crew are mainly Giforian and Dref.’

Ron turned to her with a shocked expression.

‘It’s alright,’ Chameakegra said, realising the alarm she had triggered. ‘The eradication’s on hold. The Quorma and its crew have been redeployed to carry out the extractions for the rehabilitation. We provide them with the necessary information.’

Ron studied Chameakegra’s face as she explained this. It was as if she had not registered the impact of what she had said. An eradication. The crew of the Quorma might have been temporarily redeployed but they were there to carry out a more sinister task and that had not gone away.

The Earth was sitting under the Sword of Damocles. There was no way of telling when that blade would arc down. That depended on distant powers and Grrndakegra. That hung on the success of Chameakegra’s experiment and the rehabilitation process. And Chameakegra’s experiment was completely dependent on the success that Ron made of the global government.

‘So, Gillian, you are newly back from a rehabilitation centre?’ The interviewer was a young, attractive blonde who was considered camera-friendly, purred.

Gillian was seated next to her husband on a chintzy sofa.

‘Can you tell us about your experience?’

‘It was terrifying,’ Gillian recalled. ‘These massive giant reptiles burst in and dragged me away.’

‘I was helpless,’ her husband explained. ‘They just brushed me aside.’

‘I was bundled into this craft with a horde of other terrified people and we were whisked away. I honestly thought we were all going to die. It was horrendous. I was absolutely terrified.’

So what happened?’

‘When they had crammed in as many as they could they took us off.’

‘Where exactly?’

‘Well I understand that the facilities were on the moon but it could have been anywhere. The journey certainly wasn’t very long. All we saw was the inside of the craft. People were whimpering and wailing the whole time. Some were so scared they’d actually soiled themselves. The most terrifying time of my life. We really thought they were taking us off to murder us.’

‘What about on the moon?’

‘Could have been anywhere,’ Gillian gripped her husband’s hand. ‘Just white corridors and rooms.’

‘What happened next?’

‘We were assigned rooms…’

‘What were they like?’

‘Well, basic really, not uncomfortable, places to eat and sleep, good food.’

‘But you didn’t know you were on the moon?’

‘No. Strangely the gravity felt normal. Everything felt normal, except we were caged up.’

‘What happened next?’

‘After a while the treatment began.’

‘Treatment?’

‘Yes, we were given some medication and made to sit in these special chairs. I remember lights and voices. It was all very vague and weird.’

‘How did it make you feel?’

‘Well, the medication may me feel all woozy, not unpleasant though and to start with I was relieved. If they were doing this I figured that they weren’t about to bump me off. Then I began to panic a little. I thought they might blank my mind or something. That was scary.’

‘How long did this last?’

‘I’ve no idea. There was no sense of time. I had three sessions. They could have been minutes, hours or days. No way of telling.’

‘And did it make you feel different?’

‘No, not at all,’ Gillian’s husband hugged her to him. She laughed. ‘I’m still the same Gillian I’ve always been.’ She glanced to her husband for confirmation. He smiled and nodded.

‘I’m just glad to have her back whole and unharmed.’

‘I see,’ the pretty interviewer added, looking very grave, ‘that must have been a relief. But Gillian can I ask you what it was that you did that might have made these aliens single you out for this terrifying process?’

‘I was what you might call a vulture capitalist. The Deutsche Bank employed me to strip assets out of failing companies and pay off the workers.’

‘A lucrative career?’

‘Oh yes,’ Gillian replied. ‘It has bought us this mansion in the suburbs and that Porsche in the drive but it had a downside. All that anguish. It took its toll. You became hardened to it. All that anguish and despair. Some people committed suicide you know. I had to shut my mind to the misery they were experiencing. It wasn’t just their jobs; it was their mortgages, cars and whole life. People lost everything. It was so heart-breaking.’

‘But you did it?’

‘Yes. If I hadn’t done it somebody else would. I just had to blot all that out. Like I put it in a compartment.’

‘So what do you think the therapy that they gave you did?’

‘It opened that box, made me look at the reality of what I had been doing.’

‘I see, and what are you going to do now? Are you going back to work?’

‘Oh no,’ Gillian replied with a shudder, ‘I’ve started a fast-track training into teaching.’

‘Do you feel terrible about it all now?’

Gillian looked thoughtful. ‘You know, in a way I feel glad. That job brought us a lot of money but the cost was enormous. It feels like it deadened part of me. Nothing felt fulfilling. I think teaching will make me feel more content.’

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

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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 Time Traveller – now available in 3 formats

Posted on by Opher

I wanted to put a different slant on a hackneyed Sci-fi theme. I think I achieved that. A fast-paced novel that focusses on human nature and is packed with adventure. Thanks to Brian Beck for the superb editing and proof reading!!

Here it is! Indulge yourself! Cheap at half the price. A bargain!

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.

The Time Traveller: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798251951394: Books

The Time Traveller eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

The Time Traveller – New Sci-fi novel by Ron Forsythe – Out on Kindle

Posted on by Opher

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.

The Time Traveller eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

The Cleansing – 41 – Chapter 21

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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 – 39 – Chapter 20

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

Trying to talk rationally with populists is similar to arguing with a newt.

Chapter 20 – Reactions

‘I don’t know what the hell this is,’ John muttered as he dug into his dinner, but I like it.’

‘It’s that new stuff they’ve brought in,’ Debbie explained. ‘Virtually giving it away down at the supermarket. Meant to provide everything a body needs.’

‘That alien stuff then?’

‘Probably. Nobody seems to know.’

John shrugged. It tasted alright to him. ‘I’ve been given a big pay hike,’ John remarked. ‘Seems the busses are getting big subsidies.’ He looked up from his plate. Alright with me. We’ll probably be able to afford a lot of those things we’ve had on hold.’

‘Particularly as the energy prices are through the floor. Our electricity charges are almost non-existent.’

‘They trying to buy us off?’

‘Who cares?’ Debbie replied. ‘As long as we’re doing OK.’

The door bell sounded.

‘Don’t worry!’ Charlene shouted, ‘I’ve got it.’

She opened the door to find a man standing on the doorstep. She looked him up and down. ‘You know, you look the spitting image of that guy the lizards have brought in to run the government, Ron something or other.’

‘That’s because I am him – Ron Forsythe,’ he held out his hand.

Charlene stood completely flummoxed. It’s not every day that you get a world leader turning up at your front door; even if they are some bogus puppet put in place by an alien invasion. She was flummoxed.

Ron allowed his extended hand to slowly return to his side. ‘I was wondering if I might have a word with Billy, Billy Smythe?’

Charly finally managed to get her brain back into gear, shut her mouth, all agitated, she nervously brushed herself down with both hands, not taking her eyes off him. It was quite one thing to see someone on the telly and something else when they unexpectedly turn up on your doorstep. Her natural hospitality kicked in. ‘Of course. Of course, do come in er Mr Forsythe. I’ll, er, I’ll get him.’ With that she stood aside and ushered him into the house.

Charly hustled him through to the front room and sat him down. ‘Would you like a drink Mr Forsythe,’ she simpered.

‘Cup of tea would be nice. Milk two sugars.’ He smiled. It was a tactic well-used by salesmen. If you were nursing a drink they couldn’t throw you out.

Charly rushed off. He heard her shout up the stairs: ‘Billy! Billy! Someone to see you!’ Then there were sounds from the kitchen. He heard Billy tramp down the stairs followed by voices in the kitchen, a few expletive-ridden exclamations and clattering.

A simpering Charly reappeared carrying a tray with three cups, a jug of milk, a teapot and small plate of chocolate bourbons. ‘The biscuits were all we had, I’m afraid.’

Billy trailed in behind her and  scowled at Ron as if this was some kind of a joke.

Charly placed the tray on the coffee table. She poured Ron a cup of tea in a china cup on a flowery saucer, adding the milk and sugar as requested. Then she pushed the plate of biscuits towards him and sat down next to Billy.

Billy had sat himself on the sofa opposite not taking his eyes off Ron, a suspicious frown on his face. He wasn’t sure it was really Ron Forsythe not that it really mattered. He was not going to be fazed by that stooge.

Ron rose from the armchair he’d been directed to and extended his hand to Billy. ‘Ron Forsythe.’

Billy regarded the hand with a tight-lipped grimace  but half rose from the settee to give him a cursory shake. ‘Billy.’

The two men studied each other. ‘Charlene said you wanted to see me?’

‘That’s right,’ Ron lifted his teacup and took a sip. ‘I think we need to talk.’ He carefully placed the cup back on its saucer.

‘What have we got to talk about?’ Billy asked belligerently, not anywhere near as unsettled by Ron’s presence as Charlene had been.

Ron took a slow measured sip from the tea again, never taking his eyes off Billy, and then deliberately placed the teacup and saucer back on the coffee table and leaned forward, lacing his hands together. ‘I think we’ve got lots to talk about.’

‘Is that some kind of threat?’ Billy had turned bright red.

Charlene was sitting nervously watching this confrontation not sure which way it might go. She could see Billy was all riled up. He didn’t like being bossed around.

Ron sat back and smiled. ‘No threat Billy. I haven’t come here with threats. I’ve come to talk things through. To ask you to give us some time.’

‘Some time?’ Billy looked like a giant squib that someone had just lit the blue touch paper. It was his turn to lean forward and look menacing. He poked his finger at Ron. ‘I’m not having a bunch of lizards taking my country off me! If they think they can waltz in and send some fucking lackey round to get me off their backs, they’ve got another think coming.’

Charlene watched wide-eyed, half horrified and half really proud of her Billy. He was standing up to the newly appointed world leader. Who would have believed that? Good for her Billy.

Ron sat back and pursed his lips deep in thought as to how he was going to defuse this. It was no surprise. He’d expected it. He could see that Billy was a fiery, combative character. He knew this was not going to be a picnic. It was a forlorn hope but he’d figured that it couldn’t do any harm.

Ron spread his hands in surrender. ‘I haven’t come here to have an argument, Billy. I was hoping we could have a talk and reach some kind of compromise.’

‘You can’t compromise. There isn’t a compromise when it comes to giving up your country.’

Charlene was looking from one to the other.

‘Can’t you just give me a few minutes of your time and listen to what I have to say?’ Ron spoke in a quiet conciliatory tone.

Charlene was fixed on Billy, waiting for him to decide. The tea was untouched. A pregnant pause hung in the air.

‘Alright,’ Billy muttered grudgingly, finally leaning back, ‘I’ll hear you out. But I’m telling you right from the start; I’m not going to give an inch to these fucking lizards.’

Ron nodded. ‘Thank you Billy,’ he said in a soft voice. ‘I’ll try to keep it short.’ He lent forward in a conspiratorial manner, elbows on knees and hands together, fingers interlaced in a non-confrontational stance. His eyes sought out Billy’s. ‘I know you think I’m some kind of tool appointed by the lizards.’ He shrugged. ‘In truth I’m just a writer. I don’t know how the hell I’ve found myself in this position.’ A little smile creased his lips. ‘But this has put me into very close contact with Commander Chameakegra who is head of this occupation.’  He paused to check Billy was still focussed on what he was saying. ‘And I don’t shy from calling it an occupation. That’s what it is.’

Billy made a tight-lipped grimace.

‘The thing is Billy, you have to know what you’re up against,’ he pressed on despite seeing Billy’s expression darkening. ‘These aliens are from a massive galactic Federation. They have powers we can’t imagine. Their technology is incredibly advanced. They make us look primitive. As you put it – they simply waltzed in and took over without a shot being fired. They nullified all our military capability just like that.’

‘If you think that…’

Ron raised his hand. ‘No. Please hear me out. This is too serious. There are things you should know and consider.’

He could see Charlene’s eyes flash Billy a signal. Billy took a deep breath and controlled himself, subsiding back into his seat.

‘This Federation seek out intelligent life around the galaxy,’ Ron explained. ‘They assess it and either incorporate it into their Federation or,’ he paused for effect, seeking out Billy’s eye, ‘or… they exterminate it.’ He watched for Ron’s reaction and could see Charlene looking startled in the background.

‘That’s right. We were and are being assessed. They will wipe us out if we are considered too violent.’

‘Are you really saying…’ Billy blustered.

‘That’s right,’ Ron interrupted. ‘They have the power to wipe us off the face of the planet as easily as removing a smudge from a window pane. With ease. Nothing we can do about it. They are here trying to make a decision. There are those among them who already think we are too violent. They’d do away with us just like that. There are others, like Commander Chameakegra, who want to give us a chance.’

‘How do you know this?’ Charlene asked, a startled look on her face. Looking from one to the other.

‘How do you know this?’ Billy asked aggressively, leaning forward. ‘I don’t believe you.’  Charlene touched him on the arm.

‘I know this because I have been meeting regularly with Commander Chameakegra,’ Ron explained. ‘That’s the way it is.’

‘You would say that,’ Billy blustered. ‘She picked you. She put you in place. She’s using you. Spinning you a yarn.’

Ron nodded. ‘Yes she did put me in place. But she’s not using me.’ He held Billy’s eyes with an intense stare that he hoped came across as sincerity. ‘And I believe her.’

Billy glowered at him. Charlene looked scared.

‘You’ve seen their power. You’ve seen what they can do.’ He left that hanging. ‘What is dangling in the air is our whole future. If they find us ‘worthy’ they will take us into their Federation and help us to develop. They offer us a future where everybody has a great life; there’s no poverty, no wars, we have clean energy and new incredible technology.’

‘They won’t give us our country though, will they?’ Billy spat the words.

‘We will be free to govern ourselves and take an equal place in the Federation and we will be at liberty to exercise our cultural values.’

Billy made a silent sneer.

Ron ignored that. ‘If we are deemed too violent then they will simply eradicate us all.’ Ron sighed deeply. ‘We have a clear choice. It’s on the edge of a knife. What we do in the next days and weeks will determine whether we live or die.’

Charlene was staring at Billy with a terrified expression on her face.

‘Billy, I’m imploring you,’ Ron leaned forward and fixed Billy with an intense glare. ‘That violence at Clacton played right into the hands of those who want to get rid of us. We have a delicate situation. Commander Chameakegra is running an experiment that has never been attempted before. She believes in us. She wants to give us a chance.’ He saw Charlene’s fingers tighten on Billy’s arm. He pressed on. ‘She has initiated an experiment. The people who are responsible for the terrible state of our world have been removed. Chameakegra is trying to see if the violent, greedy and power-mad can be reprogrammed and rehabilitated. She believes they can. She wants to prove that with good education, sound government and a new positive philosophy we are capable of being much better than we have been. She believes that humanity has a good side – a side that is empathetic and compassionate – a side that is creative and worth saving.’

Billy did not look convinced by Charlene looked like a frightened rabbit.

Ron sighed and slumped back in his seat, spreading his hands. ‘All I am asking is that we give her a chance. We give her some time. That we judge her by the fruits of her efforts.’ His pleading eyes were meeting a stony resistance. ‘Let us see if the rehabilitation process works and those violent and greedy people come back changed for the better. Let us see if the new energy system, the technology and education bring real improvements. Let’s look to a bright future and see if we can’t banish war and poverty.’

‘So we sit back while they consolidate their control? That’s what you’re asking?’ Billy growled. ‘So they can take our country away.’

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…’