The Cleansing – 32 – Chapter 16

Taking heed of the effect of the European cultures and their colonisation of the world, with the destruction and disillusionment that followed, the loss of confidence, I transposed that to the alien invasion. I coupled that with the modern populist wave of propaganda and undermining of institutions and media. The resultant instability was open for exploitation. My aliens were at odds with each other. They were seeking different outcomes. Human civilisation was in meltdown.

Chapter 16 – Progress

Beheggakegri was beginning to feel more relaxed. The camps were far less crowded and the amenities improved. He was confident that if they were inspected now they would just about pass. The lunar facilities were coming on apace with some parts already up and running. They had shipped in the expertise from around the Federation and were already beginning to work on the Hydrans. If drangling Booghramakegra started poking her nose in now she couldn’t find too much to blame Beheggakegri with. He could refute all that excrement emanating from Chameakegra. He was in the clear. A great feeling of relief passed through him.

Good luck to all those therapists. He was sure that they could apply their therapies and potions to their hearts content but they’d soon find out that they were wasting their time.  These Hydrans were a lost cause and he would prove it. That Chameakegra was heading for a downfall.

As for Grrndakegra, that Giforian seemed to be coming through. He liked her. She was like him, no nonsense. She could see what these Hydrans were like from the start. If she’d only been in charge of the operation from the very beginning these Hydrans would be gone and forgotten and he wouldn’t have even had to think about drangling Commander Chameakegra. She’d be off doing her mundane work out in the periphery where she belonged, unseen, unnoticed and out of his crest. When this debacle was over he’d have her commission, she’d be gone for good. The sooner he could get back to normal the better. All this business with Chameakegra was upsetting his digestion.

Grrndakegra would sort it out. He felt confident again.

No sooner had Beheggakegri begun to relax when the next problem hit home.

‘What is it?’ Beheggakegri asked abruptly, answering the special encrypted communicator he kept for all commerce with Grrndakegra. When that communicator buzzed it usually meant something was wrong.

‘Have you seen what our darling Commander has just put out?’

‘No,’ Beheggakegri replied with a sinking pair of hearts. What had the drangling guff done now?

‘I suggest you check your mail. She’s pasted you in.’

Beheggakegri fumbled around with his other communicator. Immediately he could see that a colossal file had been sent through to him. ‘What the drang?’

‘She’s only gone and released all the data that Neff had collected about the Hydrans.’

It took a moment for Beheggakegri to take that in. Slowly the implications dawned on him. ‘She wants to justify the extractions.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

‘I’m already on it,’ Grrndakegra replied. ‘I’m flooding their communication network with posts from a large number of reputable sources questioning the facts, contradicting, undermining and claiming it is all fake news. The dissident factions are already claiming it’s a fabrication; a conspiracy put together by the Federation. I’m boosting that view on steroids. I’ll soon have the bulk of the Hydrans believing right is wrong. Doubt and distrust are our weapons. These Hydrans love to believe in conspiracies. They are so incredibly stupid.’

Beheggakegri laughed.

Progress was being made but Chameakegra knew that it was a race against time. Did she have the time to win the Hydrans over before Beheggakegri got his way?

Funding and expertise was being funnelled into education. Long-neglected schools refurbished, a new curriculum put into place that was mind expanding, creative and brought enjoyment to the heart of the process. In developing countries new facilities were under construction. Every youngster over the entire globe, for the first time, was going to receive a first class education. But there were problems emerging. Teachers could not be conjured out of nowhere and the new curriculum and styles of ‘active’ teaching were an anathema to a largely conservative profession. Despite the long-term benefits the short-term issues dominated. There was general disquiet and unrest. The unions became involved. Parents became anxious. Conspiracy theories blossomed – education was being taken over by the lizards. Children were to be brainwashed. Protests ensued. Soldiers were being brought in to fill gaps and soldiers are not renowned for compassion and empathy.

The protection of the environment was warmly received by environmental groups but also generated widespread anger. People were no longer allowed in areas they considered beauty spots. The turning over of whole areas to nature met a furious response. We were being told where we could go and what we could do. This wasn’t right. Restrictions on fishing, trawling, farming, mining and logging, no matter how beneficial they might prove in the long run, were garnishing widespread dissatisfaction. Rewilding became a dirty word. Who were these aliens to barge in and tell everyone what they could and could not do on their own planet?

New quantum energy plants were under construction using alien technology but a new energy grid cannot be constructed overnight even with the amazing resources that the aliens could bring to bear.

The revamping of industry with the incorporation of new technologies required time and expertise. People had to be trained.

The data drop that Chameakegra had instigated had certainly made an impact. The media had delighted in picking over the dubious actions and attributes of their pet politicians, celebrities and business magnates. They were shown up for the horrible selfish people they really were, yet strangely it did not spin the dial as much as Chameakegra had hoped. The campaign claiming that the reports had all been doctored, were fake and created by the lizards greatly undermined the impact. People became confused. What could they believe? Who could they trust?

The most noticeable effect of the aliens’ occupation, apart from the huge impact of the excising of so many people from the upper echelons, was the disbandment of the military. The Federation with the help of the Ministry of Peace under Apsara Amorin, managed the decommissioning of equipment, including nuclear arsenals, warships, planes and missiles but the personnel were suddenly surplus to requirements. All over the world soldiers, sailors and airmen were stood down. The knock on effects were enormous, the whole defence industries, the supply and support along with surveillance, planning and organisation. The mass unemployment created huge problems. People could not simply be retrained overnight.

They were all compensated. The Federation seemed happy to support a large number of unemployed people. That was not an issue. Their resources were unimaginable. That was not the issue. The issue was time. Work filled time. Work gave purpose, status and self-worth. When the work stopped people had time but no drive. They were at a loose end. Time was the enemy. They felt as if they had been robbed. They no longer mattered. They had far too much time.

Then there was religion. All over the world the religious fundamentalists felt that their faith and beliefs were under attack. Attacking or denigrating a person’s deep-felt faith was incendiary. There were no holds barred to a religious fanatic.

People did not like change.

Whenever there had been periods of change there had always been great civil unrest. It took time for change to bed in.

Never in human history had so much change happened so quickly. The whole world had been turned upside down. Not only that, but inside, people were suffering from a demoralising malaise. It was the same psychological collapse that had affected the human cultures following their contacts with the superior technology of the European nations. The arrival of the huge sailing ships with their mystical death-dealing cannons, horses, armour and weapons undermined the very psyche of the cultures they encountered. The tribes, with their canoes, bows and arrows and spears, were suddenly up against people who not only looked different but acted different and brought new religions and weaponry. These tribes could not conceive of how anybody could build a colossal schooner or make a cannon. These strangers appeared like gods. It undermined every belief the endemic people held. Their worth disappeared. They were inferior in every respect. They felt worthless.

Such was the impact of superior technology.

It was the same with the aliens. They left people feeling that their beliefs, culture and lives were worthless. All over the world people were feeling hopeless, floundering and losing the will to live.

Soldiers, miners, fishermen and timber merchants were thrown on the scrap heap, but they were only the tangible symptoms. The very tenets of all religions had been thrown into question and fundamentalists were vainly trying to hold their hands over their ears and eyes. They did not want to hear it or see it. In reality the whole of humanity was now worthless. There was nothing to hold on to anymore. All social cohesion and inner pride had evaporated.

If this was what progress looked like then it was better to live in the past. At least in the old days there was certainty. Now nobody knew what to believe and all beliefs were either discarded or open to question.

The Cleansing – 31 – Chapter 15 continued

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

Sci-fi for me is a way to explore the real world and real people. I don’t write space opera. My heroes are Philip K Dick and Robert Sheckley. I like it grounded in insightful realism.

If you are enjoying these excerpts why not purchase the book. It’s available in 3 formats on Amazon.

Here’s the next snippet:

Billy was also caught up in an inferno. Except his was a joy and he was blossoming. The flames of dissent were igniting in his head and being fanned by millions of followers making him feel energised and indestructible. The momentum was building and Billy found himself gathering dissenters like a mighty avalanche careering down a mountainside building as it went. Billy was caught up in it like a fly trapped on a treacle trap, except he was basking in every minute of it. All his time was devoted to the movement – trawling the net, gathering the latest gossip, theories, gripes and information, distilling it into a series of blogs and rants. He’d purchased software and hardware and harnessed Dom the Geek from down the road to set it up. His and Charlene’s bedroom had been transformed into a studio. Now he ran a daily podcast in which he shared his ‘wisdom’. There was no shortage of help. Donations were flooding in. He could afford to do it right – the best cameras and microphones – a real professional job.

Gone were the days of standing on the bar at the Ashley addressing a measly hundred or so, or even holding a meeting at the community centre to address hundreds; he was now on line with an audience in the millions. There wasn’t a hall big enough to accommodate them. Billy had discovered that he had a knack for this podcasting; he just poured out all the stuff he’d picked up and gave it his ‘Smythe charm’. Everyone was suitably impressed at how natural he was – like he’d always played with microphones. Charly had always said he had the gift of the gab.

‘You’re a dark horse,’ Charly chortled. ‘Who’d have thought that you had it in you?’ She was checking out the hits on Billy’s latest rant. The numbers were going through the ceiling.

‘It needs doing,’ Billy replied, a slight modest blush tinging his cheeks. ‘We can’t let these lizards steal out bloody country, Charly.’

‘There’s a lot of people feel the same,’ Charly observed, looking at the latest figures. ‘The trouble is what can we actually do about it?’

‘I’m working on that,’ Billy replied with a smug look on his face.

‘Billy, what are you up to?’

‘We can’t just sit around and moan, can we?’

Charly looked sideways at him. Billy wasn’t a deep thinker. She knew that. He had trouble booking a restaurant for an anniversary surprise.

‘There’s this guy on the web,’ Billy explained. ‘Likes to keep in the background. Some rich geezer. Chucks in most of the readies. He’s as pissed off with the lizards as I am.’

‘And what’s he going to do with anything?’ Charly enquired doubtfully.

‘He’s full of ideas. Things I’d never have thought off. They’re dragging people off to these camps and wiping their brains, you know? The ones they’re not bumping off. He thinks we have to do something about it’

‘I’ve read all that,’ Charly muttered. ‘Don’t know if it’s really true.’

‘It’s true. This guy is sending me stuff. I’ve got the pictures to prove it. They’re ending up like zombies. Their brains wiped clean. He sent me photos. They look like they’re on fentanyl.’

‘And where’s he getting these photos from?’

‘He has contacts.’

She looked at him questioningly. Billy could be a bit gullible at times.

‘I dunno,’ Charly said thoughtfully. ‘They’ve rounded up a right bunch. I never liked the look of that Musk and Farage and their ilk. Glad to see the back of them.’ She chuckled. ‘I don’t even mind if their brains are turned to mush.’

‘Farage is alright,’ Billy protested. ‘A man of the people.’

‘Man of the people my arse,’ Charly sneered. ‘A fucking merchant banker with the gift of the gab who’s jumped on the bandwagon to easy street.’

Billy kept quiet. Farage was one of the few things they disagreed on.

‘So what are the big ideas then?’

‘Well,’ Billy shifted around, ‘protests and stuff.’

‘Protests and stuff?’

‘You know, marches and protests at the camps.’

‘You don’t even know where the camps are.’

‘Yes I do. He’s sent me the details.’ Billy was indignant. ‘There’s one at Clacton. Used to be an old holiday camp and then army base. They’ve taken it all over and put up these huts. He’s sent me photos.’ Billy was enthusiastic.

Charly looked sceptical. ‘What are you going to do there?’

‘We’re gonna march down and have a protest at the camp.’

‘And you’re organising this.’

‘I am,’ Billy said, looking pleased with himself. ‘I’m putting out the stuff this week. I’ve been preparing it.’ He showed Charlene the material he had stashed away in a file on his computer. There was a lot. She trawled through the headlines, photos, posters and details with a wary eye. This looked professional, not at all like Billy’s work. ‘I tell you Charly, we’re putting England at the centre of the whole fucking world!’

‘Looks really impressive,’ Charly remarked with a hint of doubt. ‘What’s all this about trains and busses?’

‘This guy says he will lay on special trains and coaches to take people to the place, even laying on fucking planes to bring people from abroad. We’re expecting thousands,’ he was excited. ‘He’s doing banners and all sorts. All I’ve got to do is publicise it through my blog, stir up interest. He’ll do the rest. Amazing eh?’

Charly fixed him with a wary eye. ‘You be careful you don’t get yourself brain wiped, Billy.’

Chameakegra was in her quarters checking through the material Neff had sent through to her. There were gigabytes of the stuff – all the details on each and every Hydran who had been extracted. The descriptions were graphic, highlighting their personality defects and crimes against humanity.

Judge Booghramakegra was right. This was nuclear. Surely if all this information was released every Hydran would clearly see that they had ample grounds for excising them from society. These people were sick. What they had been doing was criminal. They were the reason the whole world was in such a grave mess.

By removing them Hydran society had an opportunity to heal. People would be able to see that. This could change the balance of opinion. All Hydrans would see why they were doing it.

All that remained to be done was to decide how to release this massive body of material. There was far too much for anyone to read through. But was that necessary? They could dip in to select certain individuals of interest. By seeing the despicable activities of some characters, and having the whole body of information to back that up, they would surely see that the reasons were valid? The guilty ones had to be dealt with.

Even so there remained nagging doubts. Chameakegra had come to realise that many Hydrans were not rational beings. No matter what evidence they were provided with they tended to stick to their own prejudices. That couldn’t be helped. They believed or they didn’t. She had to put that down to the way Hydran’s minds operated. At least a percentage would be won over. She had to hope it was a large percentage. One thing she was sure of was that it could not do any harm. Let some of them believe that it was all made up. There was little she could do about that.  It was no good worrying about lost causes.

So what was the best way to get the information out to the widest audience? That was easy. She would ask Neff to release it to all media outlets and simultaneously send it out on all social media and communication platforms. Let them pick over it and select the morsels they found most interesting.

She set about producing a short introduction to accompany the release:

Dear Hydrans,

I am releasing the raw data that provides the justification for why we have extracted a large number of your citizens. There are a variety of criteria we have applied. Our investigations have been thorough and in depth. We have identified all those guilty of the following crimes against humanity:

Committing or instigating violence

Corruption and bribery

Greed

Racism, sexism and misogyny

Religious and/or political extremism

Indoctrination and brainwashing

Crime

Wanton destruction of the environment

It is our contention that these people are mentally or emotionally ill. Their illness has detrimentally impacted on your society. By removing these antisocial individuals we are enabling your society to heal.

The individuals that we have removed are not being punished; they are being cured of their various illnesses. When their rehabilitation is complete they will be returned to you unharmed and no longer suffering from their antisocial attitudes.

I hope this clarifies our actions for you.

Chameakegra – Commander of the Hydra Mission

When she had completed everything she had a moment’s reflection; should she involve Grrndakegra or Beheggakegri? Grrndakegra was joint Commander. Surely she needed to be updated? Yes. But not before the material had circulated.

She pasted Grrndakegra, Beheggakegri and Judge Booghramakegra into the release. Her claw hovered over it for a second, then the button was pressed, Neff received her instructions and the massive file of documents was on its way.

Goodreads – Book review – God’s Bolt

Book review: God’s Bolt, by Ron Forsythe

When a novel begins with the total destruction of Earth and everyone on it … where do you go from there?

In God’s Bolt, Ron Forsythe goes to the only survivor: scientist Helen Southcote. Alone on a United Nations sponsored space station, she has to witness the asteroid impact that destroys the world, and live with the knowledge that she’s the only survivor.

She doesn’t handle it well.

Helen’s only companion is an Artificial Intelligence running the station that she doesn’t really like, and her only comfort the knowledge that the search for intelligence elsewhere, her life’s obsession, was successful: There is life out in the rest of the galaxy. Unfortunately, it’s so far away that it’s no hope of rescue, and unlikely to even know of the Earth’s destruction.

God’s Bolt by [Ron Forsythe]

https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Bolt-Ron-…

For the rest of the novel Forsythe flashes back to Helen’s life, the creation of the space station’s A.I., and the discovery of the massive asteroid that sneaks up on Earth, along with efforts to divert it. At the same time we follow Helen’s recovery from despair. She’s seen her friends and family all die, and is now stranded on a space station that can never land. The best she can hope for is to survive, alone, and watch the world burn beneath her.

Not the most upbeat life in the world. Still, God’s Bolt is fascinating in the same way so many disaster stories are, even if the “Who will live?” question seems settled right from the beginning. The writing can be repetitive at times, especially when it comes to Helen’s breakdown and the fight against the asteroid–I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t necessary to say it was huge so many times, for instance. But it was an interesting, optimistic, look at what the world could be in a century and a half or so. Interesting enough that I was sad to see it go!

Helen is the main viewpoint character in God’s Bolt, and I found her well rounded, especially as we get to follow her through her life and dedication to the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. That’s a subject I assumed was an unnecessary side story, but just about everything is tied up at the end.

I also found the efforts to stop the disaster, complete with infighting in the world’s government and the rise of a doomsday cult, to be fascinating, even knowing their efforts would ultimately fail. All in all a fun read, or at least as fun as planetary Armageddon can be.

By the way, improbably … there’s a sequel.

The Cleansing – 28 – Chapter 13 continued

An alien scenario – the same political intrigue. I try to make my sci-fi relevant to the present day:

Beheggakegri was shaken. The reality of Chameakegra’s message continued to hit home. He’d placed himself in a perilous position and he knew it. The Judge had power. This wasn’t something that was going to go away. If Judge Booghramakegra had sufficient evidence in the form of numerous incriminating statements from various departmental heads he might be in trouble. She could take that to the council on Gestor and they could oust him. If she had enough…

He lay on his luxopexi absently shoving dainties down his throat and trying to think. What could he do to remove the damage?

Had they left a trail? Were there any messages, orders that could be laid at his portal? He thought not but he could not be certain. You couldn’t trust people these days. They had an infuriating habit of covering their own backs by surreptitiously recording things. Scandalous!

But, no. He was careful. He might have acted spontaneously but he was too much of an old hand. Even when he was operating on autopilot he was sure that he would have followed a safe procedure. He knew how to cover his trail. They probably had a lot of anecdotal evidence but nothing that would hold up to interrogation. There had been no direct contact. He’d done everything through Grrndakegra. If necessary he’d chuck Grrndakegra down the thruster. When she’d served her purpose that’s what she intended to do anyway. He was in the clear. That is unless Grrndakegra had been canny enough to record their conversations as insurance. Her scutes rippled with multi-coloured fear as the doubts rose up again. She would have done. He knew it. She’d have recorded everything. Grrndakegra was no fool either. She’d try and push the blame on to him. He was certain.

He poured another synth to wash the dainties down.

What could he do?

Silly ideas kept popping into his head. A sign of deperation. He could employ someone to go and steal Grrndakegra’s communicator and comulator. That’s where the kuff would have stored it. But what if she’d stashed it somewhere for safe keeping? Besides, Grrndakegra would have backed up any incriminating evidence in a safe place – probably a copy of all the incriminating messages somewhere out in the comulator cloud.

He could arrange for Grrndakegra to meet with the scene of a nasty accident. But would that guarantee that the evidence would be destroyed? Maybe it would all surface as her things were dispensed with?

He could bribe Grrndakegra to take the fall. But what with?

Could he deal with all the department heads who might squeal? He thought not. He didn’t even know who they all were. Grrndakegra dealt with all that.

It was all that drangling Chameakegra’s fault. If it came to it he would see her go down with him. He’d get his revenge in first!

Dainty followed dainty as his anxieties boiled and a proper solution failed to materialise. She would have to discuss the matter with Grrndakegra.

Grrndakegra’s personal communicator buzzed. It could only be one person and he knew what it would be about. She flicked on record. ‘Grrndakegra, we have a problem.’

‘I know,’ she replied calmly. Beheggakegri sounded agitated and that was not a good sign.

‘What? Chameakegra? You know?’ Beheggakegri blustered as he attempted to process the fact that Grrndakegra already knew.

‘Yes, she came to see me with threats and Booghramakegra and the like. Throwing her weight around. Saying she had evidence.’ Grrndakegra explained. She sounded calm and unconcerned which calmed Beheggakegri down a great deal. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he had imagined? After all, Grrndakegra had been dealing first-hand with the situation. If she wasn’t greatly bothered…

Grrndakegra’s relaxed manner made Beheggakegri think anew; If she really did have enough evidence surely she would have initiated something by now. Was it all a bluff? Was she just using leverage? It was hard to know how that cursed dranglers mind worked. ‘Are you recording this?’

‘Recording this? Why would I be recording this?’ Grrndakegra lied.

‘Never mind. Look, we have to change tack here,’ Beheggakegri said, thinking on his pedal extremities. ‘We can’t be seen to be deliberately sabotaging the operation. Booghramakegra would tear us apart. Are you certain that you haven’t left a trail? Is there anything tangible that could find its way back to us?’

‘Nothing,’ Grrndakegra replied. ‘I’m no fool. Everything has been verbal.’ She smirked at her agitated boss. ‘I’ve covered out scutes.’

A wave of relief flowed through Beheggakegri and his mind started slipping into gear. ‘OK, but we still have to take this seriously. Circumstantial evidence can be damning.’

Grrndakegra waited.

‘OK, this is what we do. Give out some clear instructions – you know, it’s come to your attention that the operation to produce the lunar facilities is proceeding far too slowly. We need to pull out all the stops and get it up and running as soon as possible. That you will be making regular inspections and expecting results. Cover our backs.’

Grrndakegra nodded. ‘I can do that. We can get it completed in no time.’

Beheggakegri nodded pensively. That was good. If the facility was up and running it would tell the lie to anything that Booghramakegra and Chameakegra might cook up.

‘Same with the camps,’ Beheggakegri instructed. ‘Something along the lines that it has come to your attention that some of the arrests have been too rough and that has to stop. All Hydrans are to be treated with the utmost respect and courtesy. A notice to all camp chiefs that even though the camps are only an interim solution they are to build as many facilities as necessary to avoid overcrowding and ensure that the inmates are treated well, we adequate facilities, privacy, good food and recreational facilities. Disorder is to be clamped down on. The camps are not punishment centres and that you will be regularly touring to ensure standards are met – something along those lines.’

‘I can do that.’ Grrndakegra smirked. She was enjoying seeing Beheggakegri squirm but was also quite relieved to hear what seemed like a good sound course of action. She didn’t know Beheggakegri had it in him. She had been worried. That Chameakegra was a threat. Grrndakegra had been concerned and not sure what to do. It seemed like there was some life left in that old frux Beheggakegri after all.

Beheggakegri considered his instructions. Had he covered everything? He thought so. If Grrndakegra got that into motion it would take the plasma out of Booghramakegra’s thrusters.

‘Right. That should cover things. Now, I want that drangling kuff Chameakegra to pay for this. I want this to fail horribly and her to go down.’

Grrndakegra waited. She’d known all along that this was the only thing in Beheggakegri’s head – a personal vendetta. For some reason he had taken a personal dislike of the Giforian Chameakegra. He’d stop at nothing. The fate of 8 billion Hydrans was immaterial. They were pawns in Beheggakegri’s game. Not that Grrndakegra was particularly bothered about the Hydrans. From what she’d seen they were a bunch of psychotic apes, space vermin of the worst kind, they deserved to be terminated. But Chameakegra? What was that about? She was a bit namby-pamby but she’d found her pleasant enough. She certainly had more time for Chameakegra than she had for Beheggakegri. She surmised it was all about control – some psychological flaw in Beheggakegri’s make-up. Whatever, it was not really any of her concern. She just did what she did, what she was instructed.

‘What do you want me to do next?’ Grrndakegra asked.

Beheggakegri was thinking out loud. ‘We can’t be seen to have any role in the failure of her crackpot idea. It has to fail and fail horribly.’

‘So, what’s your big idea?’

‘We use the opposition.’ Beheggakegri replied thoughtfully.

‘What opposition?’

‘All over the planet. There are groups of Hydrans organising against the crazy systems Chameakegra is putting in place. We have to fan those flames into an inferno. Use the Hydran’s propensity towards violence against them. If we can get the Federation to see that these Hydran’s are intrinsically violent and that Chameakegra is trying to introduce space vermin into the Federation she will be utterly discredited. I can take it from there.’

Grrndakegra ran the idea through her head. Yes it could work. ‘OK. Leave it with me.’

Beheggakegri shut down the communication. Why had he mentioned recording? Now he’d put that idea in Grrndakegra’s head. Had they done enough? Covered all the bases? He’d just have to trust Grrndakegra on that one. But at least he felt a lot better about things and had the start of a way forward. That damn Chameakegra was going to pay for all this. He’d make sure of that.

 Beheggakegri turned his attention back to Ron Forsythe’s address to the nation. He had to admit that the Hydran had handled it well. Beheggakegri could already see that he was going to be a problem. There was someone else who might need dealing with.

‘Have we actually got enough to undo Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra?’ Chameakegra asked Judge Booghramakegra.

The Judge looked thoughtful. ‘Probably,’ she replied, ‘but I wouldn’t count on it. Beheggakegri is an experienced politician and the bar is set high. I’ve no doubt that he will have covered his tracks and would be prepared to throw Grrndakegra in front of the shuttle.’

‘My thinking too.’

‘My view is that they’ll cover their tracks. The Lunar facilities and camps will magically begin to function well. We may have blocked the leak in the plasma there.’ The Judge mused. ‘We need to focus more on the issues that are causing most upset with the Hydrans.’

‘The extractions.’

‘Precisely.’

‘I’ve already tackled that with Grrndakegra,’ Chameakegra mused. ‘What else can we do?’

‘What’s done is done,’ the Judge replied pensively. ‘Somehow we have to regain the initiative.’

‘Easier said than done. Those viddies on their communication network are pretty damning. They make us look like a bunch of thugs and have spread terror all around.’

‘We have to justify them,’ the Judge pronounced.

‘I already have,’ Chameakegra protested. ‘I have explained why we are carrying out the extractions in my addresses.’

‘I know you have,’ the Judge smiled. ‘But they don’t believe you. They think you are fooling them and dragging people off to either murder them or brainwash them.’

‘I don’t know what else I can do.’

‘You need to win them over. Make them realise why the extractions were necessary.’

‘How do I do that?’

‘The Neff has all the details on them, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Chameakegra replied beginning to grasp the gist of where this was going.

‘Release the dirt,’ Judge Booghramakegra grinned. ‘Let them see exactly how despicable they all are. Give them the full works.’

The Cleansing – 27 – Chapter 12 into Chapter 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The pressure on Ron was immense.

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

Chapter 13 – Deception and Vision

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

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

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

For once Beheggakegri felt conflicted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ron stared the silence into defeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was actually a ripple of applause.

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

‘Let’s not blow it.’

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

Ron smiled and nodded.

He’d passed the audition.

The Cleansing – 26 – Chapter 11 into Chapter 12

The political intrigue between aliens mirrors that to be found in human societies:

Chameakegra settled for checking the lunar facilities first. Finding time to fit everything in was proving difficult. She needed to be in ten places at once. An army of Xerc engineers were working on the facilities, burrowing deep into the moon’s substrate, creating rooms, facilities and corridors sufficient to house a small city, necessary to house and treat all the excised Hydrans. By the standards of the Federation, this was not too daunting a task. They had all the tools and materials to facilitate the operation. With the technology available this should not have taken too long to get up and running.

An army of psychiatrists were at hand. Behind the scenes Judge Booghramakegra had lubricated the moving parts to assemble the best.

Chameakegra was greeted at the entrance by loj, a large Minorian. She was familiar with species; Graffa, her second in command on the Neff was a Minorian. He’d always impressed with his calm amphibian manner and efficiency. She was expecting the same.

Loj began the tour, leading her through completed corridors, showing off the idle lavish facilities and introducing staff. It was only when Chameakegra enquired about the date for the facility to be up and running that she began to get the highly aromatic reek of a deceased quiw. Loj began to show signs of agitation and Chameakegra noticed her dousing herself from her hydrating glands. Something was up.

Back in Loj’s office Chameakegra cornered her. ‘Right Loj,’ she demanded, ‘what is going on?’ It came spilling out.

That’s when the real tour began. Roughly hewn corridors, empty rooms, no facilities, Xerc’s standing around with little work being carried out.  It did not take too much to piece it together. They were on a go slow. Loj fired excuse after excuse, unexpected rock formations, instability, cracks, and fissures. None of it made sense and Chameakegra could plainly see Loj’s embarrassment. When asked directly if she was acting on orders from Beheggakegri or Grrndakegra she prevaricated.

Chameakegra returned filled with a seething fury. She had got nowhere and could see that her whole project was being deliberately sabotaged and there was little she could do about it.

Next up were the temporary camps, only intended to house the Hydrans for a short while as they were shuttled off to be treated. She toured the cramped, squalid conditions with their listless inmates, squabbling, infighting and sullen resentment boiling up into hate and fury. Hardly conducive to the rehabilitation she had planned. Nobody could tell her anything. The squalid conditions were a hotbed for everything she was fighting against.

This wasn’t disheartening; this was monumentally horrendous.

Back on the Neff she sat for a moment. Something had to be done. First Booghramakegra. She needed putting in the picture. Quickly her claws rattled across the keyboard filing a report of what she had witnessed along with her suspicions. Then the communicator.

‘Grrndakegra, we need to talk.’ With that she shut down and sat back in her pexi her scutes and crest a deep green sign of outrage.

Chapter 12 – A Reckoning

Ron was a writer, a man who was used to studying people, who was familiar with emotions, psychology and all manner of human behaviour. Understanding character was his trade. But dealing with human beings was one thing; dealing with completely unknown alien reptiles was quite another.

His regular meetings with Chameakegra were beginning to pay dividends. Ron felt that he was beginning to get the measure of her. Despite his initial sense of outrage at feeling he was being used he couldn’t help but start to melt. As he grew more familiar with her mannerisms he began to read her more. What he was becoming more and more certain about was that she was sincere. Slowly his anger melted away to be replaced by a grudging respect. He believed her. He was beginning to be able to read the emotions displayed on her scaly face and interpret the colours that flowed across her skin. He still could not figure out why she had chosen him but, though he kept a small element of doubt alive, he was becoming convinced that she believed what she was saying. She wanted that bright future for them.

That left Ron with a dilemma.

He felt torn.

If Chameakegra believed in him and felt he was the man for the task; if she had a viable vision for the future, one that he could buy into, then wasn’t that worth fighting for? What had he got to lose? Despite the violent scenes he was seeing perhaps it was just as she was saying – a necessary means to an end? Ron was at war with himself but maybe, just maybe it was time to put aside his doubts and fears and fully buy into the dream? That’s what his gut was telling him.

Chameakegra was fuming. Her scutes ran with livid green outrage bleeding into white fury.

Grrndakegra sat back looking supremely relaxed in her pexi. Somehow Chameakegra had kept her composure as she led her through the Neff to her private quarters; she’d even offered her a drink of synth, now Grrndakegra’s total lack of concern was needling her. She had been so sure she could hold it together now she wasn’t so certain after all.

Chameakegra sat opposite Grrndakegra and poured herself a sizeable synth from the servo then sat back, took a deep breath and tried to control her feelings.

Grrndakegra continued to watch her closely, her scutes moving between a thoughtful pink and mauve amusement. She was waiting for what was coming.

‘Where’s this coming from?’ Chameakegra finally asked, fixing Grrndakegra with her flashing green eyes while slowly sipping her synth. ‘It’s Beheggakegri behind this, isn’t it?’

Grrndakegra tried to hide it but Chameakegra noticed a hint of red annoyance creep into Grrndakegra’s scutes.

‘Where’s what coming from?’

Chameakegra glared at Grrndakegra a distinct white rage stealing across her crest.

‘Don’t give me that shit. I’m not stupid. I’ve just come back from the lunar facility after an interesting tour with our friendly Minorian. Loj did her best but she couldn’t hide it forever, could she?’

Grrndakegra sipped her synth and tried to brazen it out. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ her beige scutes displaying a lack of concern.

Chameakegra nodded allowing the white rage to settle over her thorax. It did not hurt for Grrndakegra to know how furious she was. ‘You know exactly what I mean.’ The cold, deliberate delivery gave the words a cutting edge.

Grrndakegra shrugged.

‘I did a tour around the camps,’ Chameakegra continued in measured tone. She left it hanging.

Grrndakegra sipped her synth insolently but Chameakegra could plainly see some yellow annoyance or awkwardness displaying on her scutes. She might feign a lack of concern but inside she was feeling something.

‘Is this some underhand ploy that you and Beheggakegri have dreamed up?’

‘Chameakegra,’ Grrndakegra purred, in a condescending tone, ‘you have to be realistic. These Hydrans are space vermin. They can no more be turned from greed and violence than Beheggakegri can forego his dainties. There’s something deep in their DNA. You’re not going to fix it with all your restructuring and namby-pamby therapy. It runs too deep.’

Chameakegra studied her fellow Giforian with an olive burst of contempt. ‘I never figured you as one of Beheggakegri’s cretinous stooges.

Grrndakegra produced a burst of white anger, like a button had been pressed and some dam inside her head had burst. ‘I’m nobody’s fool and I’m nobody’s stooge,’ she snarled rising to her feet in fury.

Chameakegra stared up at the Giforian towering over her with her crest fully raised and waves of white anger flowing over her scutes. She sipped her synth in a show of indifference while showering the Giforian with disdain, the olive green deepening into a brown shade. ‘That’s exactly what you are.’ The contempt in her voice was thick like cold molasses. ‘You are utterly despicable, worse than that heap of blubber whose anus you are busy licking.’

For a moment it looked as if Grrndakegra, who was now incandescent white from toe to crest, was going to strike her with one of her raised claws. Chameakegra met her gaze and leaned forward, daring her to deliver the blow. ‘You and that piece of drewfus excrement Beheggakegri deserve one another.’

For a moment the claw hung in the air then Grrndakegra turned on her heel, flung the beaker of synth at the wall and stormed out, the portal barely dilating sufficiently to allow her through.

The Cleansing – 25 – Chapter 11

Trying to explore the impact of coming face to face with a scientifically/technologically superior culture is difficult. One has to base it on the impact of European cultures on the indigenous populations of South America, Australia and North America.

Chapter 11 – Conflict

Billy Smythe had discovered his forte. His reception at the Ashley Arms had unleashed a force within him. Billy was buoyed up and raring to go. From the moment he had been hoisted up on to that bar he’d felt transformed. A bubble had burst inside him. All his fears and lack of confidence had melted away. The ‘new’ Billy Smythe could take on the world.

Charlene orchestrated from behind the scenes. She put out a stream of messages through social media that miraculously all seemed to go viral. They highlighted a string of grievances that drew attention from right across the world. It was Charly who publicised the date and a time of their next meeting and ensured it received the maximum publicity. She was good with words.

For their next foray they’d hired the community centre. This time they had a proper stage, seats, a table and an actual podium. All very professional. There was even a PA if they wanted it. Billy declined. He was happy projecting to a crowd. The idea of a microphone was scary. He didn’t really know how to use one. How close did you have to be? How loud did you talk? No, he was better off doing what he was familiar with – talking to people.

They aimed to get their early to get set up. There were seats to set out in the hall and a last check that everything was working. Nobby had set up a bar at the back and was hoping to make another killing. Taking on the lizards was thirsty work.

‘How many you expecting?’ Foxy asked, looking to Billy for guidance. The place would hold a few hundred. It looked a little vacuous when empty.

Billy looked nonplussed.

‘I reckon there was about a couple of hundred at the Ashley,’ Charlene chipped in. ‘Probably a few more.’

‘Might be a few more, a few less,’ Denby suggested.

‘The novelty will have worn off,’ Debbie conjectured.

‘I don’t know,’ Cheryl replied. ‘People I’m talking to are all up in arms. They want something done. I’ve had a huge response on line. There might be more than you think. Hell of a buzz on social media. Some people took viddies of Billy and they’ve gone viral.’ She looked up at him admiringly. ‘Our Billy’s quite a celeb!’

Billy blushed. He liked this newfound admiration.

‘I reckon we should lay out all three hundred,’ Charlene suggested. ‘If they’re not needed there’s nothing lost.’

A half hour before the event people started trickling in. The trickle turned into a steady stream and the seats began to fill. Ten minutes off and every seat was taken. Still people came. The aisles, sides and back were full and more and more were coming. The capacity was three hundred but there had to be at least twice that.

Billy peered out from behind the curtains. The whole place was heaving, people pushing and jostling to get to see.

‘Bloody hell,’ Billy muttered to Charlene, ‘what’s the Health and Safety limit on this place?’

‘Never you mind, Billy,’ she grinned, as proud as punch. Her campaign had obviously worked better than any of them could have hoped.

Not only was the hall jam-packed but once again crowds were building up outside. John, who had become increasing paranoid, kept checking through the curtains. ‘No sign of any lizards,’ he reported.

‘I reckon you’ll need that PA,’ Foxy remarked. He and Denby quickly activated the system and Foxy had the idea of directing a speaker through the open window.

It was five minutes late by the time things were ready. The crowd were restless but began to settle in anticipation as if they were at a gig.

At last Billy and the others were ready.

They’d planned it out. Seven of them trouped out on to the stage and took their seats to a lot of clapping and cheers. Then Billy emerged and walked to the podium and the place erupted, stamping, clapping, cheers and whistles. He raised his hands to acknowledge them. This time there was no sign of trepidation on his part.

‘Thank you! Thank you for coming!’ His voice boomed. He backed away from the mic.

Huge cheers greeted him.

‘We need to do something about these overgrown lizards, don’t we?’ Billy asked the question, getting the mic about right.

Rooooaaaarr!! Came the reply.

With that he launched in.

He’d not really planned it but it was all there in his head. Now it came spilling out in a stream of vitriol: How we didn’t need them here lording it over us. How they were trying to keep us quiet and shut us up – taking away our nationality and culture – that we were English and had thousands of years of history – thousands of years without ever being conquered – thousands of years of history and culture that they wanted to steal. We had to stand up and fight just like Saint George had done.

St George – the great English knight who was an example for us all. He’d killed that great fire-breathing scaly dragon.

According to Billy our overgrown lizards were nothing compared with that fearsome dragon. We could trounce them if we wanted!

Then he turned his attention to Ron Forsythe and that Global Government. They were trying to foist some silly, poncy mouthpiece on us to keep us quiet. All this talk of equality and unity. All smoke and mirrors. We didn’t want some poncy writer. What he he know about running the country? It was a ploy. Well, all this talk of unity was just an excuse for tyranny. This talk of global government was just an excuse to take our country away from us. Who needs a bunch of lizards telling us what to do? They could take their wonderful technology and screw themselves with it. We didn’t need it, or them. They should go back to where they came from!

The whole diatribe was punctuated with rapturous cheers. He seemed to hit every button. By the time he finished he had them all singing Jerusalem. ‘And did those feet…..’

If he had said the word he could have had them all marching to the nearest alien base to storm the place. They’d have followed him to hell and back.

When it was over they were inundated with people asking what they could do, looking to Billy and the others for answers, leadership, ideas. Their blood was up. They wanted action. They thought Billy might provide it.

‘You were magnificent Billy,’ Charlene chortled, taking his arm as they walked home. All the way people were coming up to them wanting to shake his hand, wanting selfies. It was like he was a star.

‘Fucking hell!’ Denby said, coming to a dead halt. They all stopped and stared. Denby had his phone in his hand. ‘There’s fucking viddies of you all over the web. It’s going viral, man. You’re a fucking superstar, Billy!’

They all looked. Already snippets of Belly’s performance were trending and going viral.

‘Can I get a selfie with you,’ Foxy asked cheekily.

Once the bewilderment had dissipated and Ron had stop asking ‘why me’ and acceptance slowly set it. Hard on its heels came anger. He was being used. They were setting him up as head of a token human government while, behind the scenes, they orchestrated their take-over. This charade was nothing more than a means of reducing resistance. Cunning and deceitful. They were tightening their grip day by day and wanted it made easy. Ron was their tool. He could see the endless stream of arrests. The internet was full of terrible scenes that made Trump’s ICE arrests look tame. Where were they dragging all those people? Were there mass execution centres? Would he find mass graves if he were to look? A wave of nausea welled up inside him at the thought. They were expecting him to put his name to this sacrilege. It felt like sanctioning Hitler’s extermination policy. What the hell was going on? How the hell was he expected to trust them?

Spending hours in a small room with a nine foot lizard equipped with fangs and titanium-edged claws was intimidating but you got used to it. After a short while he began to glimpse her personality. Soon he was seeing Chameakegra as a person, a real person, with a real personality..

Despite the horrendous scene on the internet he warmed to her. Chameakegra explained how the excision was necessary to cleanse society, that the removals were not as bad as they seemed and the people taken would be rehabilitated. He wanted to believe her but it flew in the face of the repulsive scenes he was seeing on line.

Chameakegra spent time with Ron. She knew it was important to win him over. She shared her vision for the future and the more she talked the more he came to see it. Could he buy into this? Could he even believe it? A world where there was no such thing as racism and violence, no wars and cruelty; a world with free energy, clean rivers and seas and the revival of nature. It sounded too good to be true. Could he believe her?

Ron Forsythe Sci-fi novels available on Amazon – Check ’em out!

Amazon.co.uk : Ron Forsythe

The Cleansing – 21 – Chapter 8

What could an alien say that might diminish the fear levels in the population?:

Chapter 8 – The Mechanics

‘People of Earth,’ Chameakegra was delivering one of her now customary addresses to the nation. She had learnt to use the Hydran name for their planet – Neff had informed her that using the Federation name – Hydra – was creating unnecessary aggravation. She’d learnt. She was there in all her pomp, with raised crest and ceremonial uniform. The premise was that the Hydrans were becoming used to the presents of large numbers of mainly saurian Giforian and Dref. The sight of a Giforian resplendent in full plated glory was not going to produce such a shock. ‘Please allow me to explain the progress we have made.’

She paused to compose herself into her most serious expression, her scutes a reassuring blue, even though she was certain that Hydrans would not yet be able to interpret the expressions and coloration of her and her kin. She began with her customary attempt at reassurance.

‘Your planet is no longer on the brink of disaster. We have put an end to all wars and completely dismantled the terrible weapons you were threatening each other with. We have started the rebuilding of your ecosystem and cleaned up the pollution. You will notice the air is fresher and the water tastes better. Together with the newly created government we have helped you set up the infrastructure, institutions and organisation necessary for you to survive and prosper. That was our stated intent and is happening at pace.’

‘I explained to you before that we are here to help. You can see the fruits of our joint efforts all around you.’ She tried to look solemn and convincing. Hydrans put a lot of stock in appearance, more so than facts and outcomes.  ‘I know that in order to do that, we have had to take over and make some radical changes. That, in the short-term, is unpleasant, even scary. But I know that in time you will come to realise that it was necessary.’

‘I will once again outline our programme so that you can understand what we are doing.’ The camera zoomed in to a close-up of her face. By now they were at least beginning to notice that the coloration reflected some inner emotions even if they could not yet understand what they signified.

Chameakegra was going for complete honesty. The hope was that maybe people would start listening to her words.

‘We have taken over the planet for a short time while we set up the necessary structures and implement the essential changes.’

According to Neff it was necessary to keep reiterating the same points. Some shady Hydran propagandist from their past had said that if you repeated a lie often enough people would come to believe it. Surely the same thing had to be true to an even greater extent for the truth?

‘By now you can see that the tribal nations that were restricting your development have been permanently removed. They are being replaced with global governance. An embryonic Hydran government has been instituted and will operate out of the old UN in New York City. The new government was put together by assembling all the best brains and talents from all across the planet. Our supercomputer on the Neff our hyperspace craft, has used its immense data-bank to select the most worthy and capable Hydrans for the task. They will be headed by the Planetary Steward Ron Forsythe, a highly gifted creative who we value greatly. Instead of elected politicians who are good at talking but not so good when it comes to making things work we have replaced that system with a true meritocracy. I can assure you that things will work a lot better from now on. This team are presently being trained in order to carry out their role in taking this planet forward into a new age. When our job is done we will retreat and leave you to operate autonomously.’

Chameakegra knew that this was not going to go down well. The Hydran’s tribal instincts were proving hard to budge but she also knew that it was essential to force that process through. All the opinion polls said the same thing. Yet if the Hydrans were going to survive and progress they had to move on. Tribal sentiments were far too primitive. There was no room for that primeval ideology in the Federation. Besides, this tribal rivalry diverted resources and hampered progress. She set about putting forward the argument.

‘Having a global system will work far better. It will unify all people and enable things to work more efficiently. Sharing over a whole planet is much more efficient. Pollution and nature are not restricted by national boundaries. Having energy, commerce and transport flowing freely without restriction will make things faster and more efficient. Standardising measurements and materials will make life easier. The same rules and regulations will apply universally and be easier to enforce. A global system works far better than any patchwork of differences. You will see.’

Here she wanted to mollify some of the concerns.

‘Having a global system does not mean that local customs and flavours will be lost. You will still find the same old cultural differences will abound. You will not find things are different. You will still look and feel exactly the same as you did.’ She failed to mention that a number of cultural practices, including the more insane religious practices, would either go or be phased out. Foods, music and dress were one thing, misogyny, genital mutilation and unhealthy bodily harm was quite another.

They would learn in time. The exposure to different galactic civilisations would open eyes. Right now she just had to be reassuring.

As you can see, we have already neutralized the immense military capability and dismantled armouries. The time, energy and resources devoted to killing fellow citizens are already being diverted to better uses.’

The trouble with Hydrans was that they were far too emotional. They had to learn to rein that in. The future demanded rational thinking. If religion and national differences were removed conflict could be averted. The future assured.

‘It was apparent that the system that dominated on the planet evolved out of greed and power madness. The way the world was run was dictated by a small elite who controlled everything through bribery, threats and violence. They orchestrated wars, division and conflict out of self-interest. They controlled the media and, through the use of lies, conspiracy, propaganda and fake news, they controlled the minds of the populace. We have been forced to act. It was essential to remove the rot in order to heal the gaping wounds. Our supercomputer on the Neff has identified these narcissists, psychopaths and sociopaths and they have been removed from their positions of power. They have been replaced with caring, compassionate, altruistic competent people. You should start noticing a fairer world in which everyone can prosper.’

She was only repeating what she had heard so many times. This was what a number of Hydrans had been saying for some time – the billionaires controlled the world and set up the global system to benefit themselves. Things were about to change. The world was about to be run for the people. They needed to know that she meant business. And she meant to address the problems this created head on.

 ‘We know that this has temporarily left a vacuum at the centre of businesses, governments and financial organisations. These people had, over the course of centuries, inveigled their way to the top of the world’s institutions. Their dynasties have spread privilege, discrimination and prejudice throughout the world. Their greed, self-interest and lack of empathy and compassion, has infiltrated the zeitgeist you all survive in. They have selfishly and callously creamed off the wealth for their extravagant lifestyles at the expense of everyone else and the natural environment. Their only motivation has been to accumulate more in an orgy of profit over reason. The whole system is corrupt. The consequences of their actions have not been a consideration. The Neff has identified these people and we have removed them. We are sorry to have caused you all much distress.’

Chameakegra was fully aware of the damaging scenes that were plastered all over the Hydran communications networks; scenes of people being forcibly dragged away from their distraught families. It was not a pretty sight. Somehow she had to justify those unpleasant scenes.

‘I would like to reassure you that we mean these people no harm. They are suffering from a sickness that can be cured. We are holding them temporarily in camps before moving them to facilities where trained staff will address their symptoms and treat their maladies. They will be treated and returned to you, to take up far more positive roles in the future, as soon as they are well.’

She hoped that was sufficient. It would have to do. There was no way anything she said was going to undo the harm that Grrndakegra’s Stormtroopers were doing. She moved on.

‘We wish to leave you with a fully functional planet run by and for, happy, well-adjusted people.’

 ‘To achieve this aim we had to overhaul all your institutions with a view to improving their function. As one of your athletes put it – short term pain – long term gain.’

‘You will have noticed a large number of new education facilities springing up everywhere, equipped with the latest tools to enable learning and expand minds. Education is a major priority. These schools will be properly funded and staffed with highly trained educators so that they can provide an immaculate service and help your children develop their minds, cultivate their sensibilities and reach their potential. Much of the resources from the disbanding of the military will be used to develop a universal education system that will benefit everyone.’

This was a difficult area. Neff’s research indicated that a percentage of the Hydrans saw this as a blatant mechanism for indoctrination or even brainwashing. Nothing she could do about that. Education was key to expanding minds and developing well-adjusted adults. That’s all there was to it. They’d soon see. It was also necessary for the furtherment of science and technology – the tools of a civilised culture.

The Cleansing – 20 – Chapter 7 continued

Juxtaposing the scene with a group of working class friends in an English pub with a middle class writer and the politics of two factions of aliens. The intrigue mounts in Chapter 7:

‘OK lads and lasses,’ Billy announced. ‘I’ve been thinking long and hard…’

‘Don’t strain that brain cell,’ Foxy heckled.

Billy ignored him and pressed on. ‘It’s not good us all sitting around doing nothing while these bloody lizards make us their slaves. We’ve got to get off our arses and do something.’

‘At least they’ve got the busses running and people getting back to work,’ Bob asserted.

‘And the shops are open,’ Debbie added.

Billy gave the pair of them a withering glare. ‘I think we have to carry out some kind of protest. Make our voices heard. We can’t allow them to simply take our country off us without a fight.’

‘We’re not after us putting up flags and painting roundabouts, are you?’ Foxy asked cheekily.

‘No Foxy, I’m not. I think it’s got a bit beyond that. I’ve called a meeting of local residents for this evening.’

‘Where?’ Cheryl enquired.

‘Here,’ Billy said, turning towards her then gestured towards the bar. ‘I’ve checked with Nobby. He thinks it’s a great idea. Might drum up some business.’

‘Bit short notice, isn’t it?’ Foxy retorted.

‘How many do you think will come?’ Kathy asked.

‘If we get a dozen or so it’ll be worth it,’ Billy replied with a shrug. ‘At least it’ll make a point. We’ve got to do something, haven’t we?’

‘Fat lot of good that’ll do,’ Denby muttered morosely. He looked up at Billy. ‘Do you think those fucking lizards are all going to bugger off home because there’s a few dissatisfied customers in the Ashley Arms?’

‘No I don’t,’ Billy turned on him, ‘but we’ve got to do something. What do you suggest, big guy?’

‘I dunno.’ Denby looked flummoxed but then that was easily done.

‘We don’t want to rile them,’ John observed dubiously.

‘An’ we don’t want to allow the buggers to walk all over us, either,’ Charlene jumped to Billy’s defence. ‘At least our Billy is making a stand. He’s doing something. He’s put it out over facebook and the like. Had a lot of attention. There are a lot of people unhappy. We’ve gotta do something.’

‘I suppose,’ said Denby with a sigh.

‘Seven o’clock,’ Billy stated, peering challengingly round at all of them. ‘Right?’

Ron stood facing the giant lizard. His heart was racing but his mind seemed remarkably clear, given the circumstances. ‘What can I do for you?’ The words somehow came out without so much as a tremor despite the rush of panic that seemed to be threatening to overwhelm him.

The huge multi-coloured reptile stared at him and slowly nodded. Then in perfect English it began to speak. Ron found it mesmerising as he watched that bright blue forked tongue swish around helping form the words.

‘Are you Ron Forsythe?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ron Forsythe the writer.’

Yes.’

‘I have read all your works.’

‘You have?’ Ron was astounded. This was the last thing he had expected. Nobody had read all his books.

The more this conversation progressed the more unreal the whole thing seemed. Ron wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t invite the lizard in. It was bizarre for them to be holding a conversation stood here on the doorstep. Odd things started buzzing around in his head. Like would the chairs stand up to the weight of the large saurian? Would it fit under the ceiling? And how could it sit with that huge tail? Did it have to have special furniture? And how was that strange inflexible mouth and forked tongue forming words? What did their own language sound like? A series of clicks and barks? How the hell had this creature read all his hundred and twenty books? Nobody had ever done that. And where the hell was his notebook when he needed it?

Maybe he should ask the lizard to leave some reviews on Amazon?

‘You have an extraordinary mind.’

‘I do?’

‘Yes. I have greatly enjoyed the philosophy you have laid out along with your compassion and empathy. It perfectly aligns with my own.’

‘It does?’ this was becoming weirder and weirder by the minute.  He was beginning to doubt that it was really happening. Could he really be standing on his doorstep having a conversation with an alien lizard that was a fan of his work? You couldn’t write it let alone live it. Where was this heading? Was the bloody lizard going to ask him to sign a few copies? He nearly burst out laughing but it was hardly appropriate.

‘Ron Forsythe, I am Commander Chameakegra the officer in joint charge of this rehabilitation exercise. You may have seen me on your receiving device.’

Ron reached out automatically to shake hands but quickly, after a glimpse of those razor-sharp talons, changed his mind. ‘Yes. Ron Forsythe, writer.’

‘Ron, we are putting together an interim government to run the planet under our auspices until you Hydrans are fully ready to rule yourself. You have to understand that this is largely a titular role at this moment in time although it will give you the ability to discuss policy with us and help shape the actions we are taking. I am here to offer you a role in this administration.’ Chameakegra studied Ron with searching eyes. She could plainly see his horror at the thought of being offered a role in this new government. He did not believe it. She tried to reassure him. ‘The best people to rule are the ones who really don’t want to. They do not think they are wonderful and deserve to rule; they do not think they can do the job brilliantly so they work at it and really try hard, they do it because it needs doing and they care; they want it to work.’ Chameakegra smiled. Ron could see it was a smile. ‘Our H-craft Ness, using the data collected and processing all the information about everyone on your planet, has selected you.’

Ron stared at the lizard in total disbelief. This was definitely a dream. Nobody in the real world would appear out of nowhere and offer some useless failed writer a role in a new global government. That was too silly to be believable.

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

He found his voice, though it seemed to be coming from a long way away. ‘What the fuck??? You gotta be kidding!!’

The government was put together, taking over the UN Headquarters in Turtle Bay New York – an ideal building for governing the world. The UN itself was disbanded, no longer necessary. A number of its delegates had been rounded up, along with the majority of politicians from around the world. No longer would self-serving greed be tolerated. The job of politicians was to serve the people and help the world to develop, not satisfy their urge for power and line their own pockets. This government was going to be different.

There were no longer any nations but the representatives were drawn from the remainder of ‘honest’ politicians along with creatives, scientists, technologists and engineers. It was a cabinet of doers and thinkers, none of which thought they were capable or equipped, but all of which were selected by Neff’s assessment as being ideal for the role.

Nobody knew what they were meant to be doing but that was understandable. They weren’t seasoned politicians. They had no back up system of civil servants. They were floundering in the dark. The lizards were running things anyway. They just had to find their feet. The dazed and confused team began the process of settling in to their environment and trying to come to terms with the presence of their saurian overlords. They were all completely shocked but they set about grappling with the role they had been given. What else could they do?

At the head of the organisation sat Ron Forsythe, a bewildered writer.

Chameakegra and Grrndakegra had fallen into their respective roles. Chameakegra handled the governance and public relations, Grrndakegra handled the excision, temporary housing of the excised and dismantling of the military and unneeded facilities. Chameakegra was eager to complete the facilities on the moon but that had fallen under Grrndakegra’s remit. She had a feeling that the temporary camps in which the errant Hydrans were housed might well be detrimental to the success of the operation but was helpless to do anything about it.

She had already developed an antithesis to Grrndakegra’s high-taloned tactics. The removal exercise seemed mere mechanical to Grrndakegra who really did not seem to grasp the emotional impact of the operation on the Hydrans. Perhaps she just did not care? Or was there a more sinister reason lurking behind the brusque way the Hydrans were being handled? Probably. Chameakegra knew that from what Grrndakegra herself had said. She had made it quite clear that she was not bothered either way about the outcome of the operation, but was it something more than that? If, as Chameakegra suspected, she was carrying out Beheggakegri’s orders she would be doing all in her power to ensure that the operation failed.

Chameakegra had a steely look on her face. She could not allow that to happen.