Little did I realise what ICE were going to be doing in American cities. I was looking into the future:
The camps were full to bursting. Rows of prefabricated huts extruded from some strange alienplastic-like material extended into the distance like some battery hen egg-producing factories. Inside was just as orderly and mechanised in the most sterile manner imaginable. The huts were crammed full of bunk beds made of the same alloy, each equipped with a mattress, single pillow and sheet. The amenities were shared – toilets and wash basins all made of strange alien fabrics. Everything was very basic and austere. They worked and did the job but that was all.
The lack of a perimeter wire was the camps only redeeming feature. The inmates, all dressed in the same single-piece tunics, were contained by an invisible containing barrier. There were no entrances or exits visible. Nothing could come in and nothing went out through that undetectable partition. The alien craft landed vertically into a central reception area. That was the only commerce.
Each massive block was managed by a single lizard who paid scant attention to what was going on inside their domain. Their function seemed largely ornamental. They were there to register a presence and perhaps record what went on. Their one task was to oversee a delivery of bland untextured alien food three times a day. Otherwise they ignored the inmates and what they got up to. In the event of fights they would appear and wait for it to be over, watching with interest. The injured would be removed without any repercussions for the offenders. Even when horrible weapons were constructed and inmates killed nothing was done about it. Law, rules and regulations were left to the inmates to implement. The inmates were left to organise themselves, no attention was paid to the distribution of food, condition of the toilets and wash areas or any form of entertainment. That was also left to the inmates. Once a week bedding was changed, apart from that it was a free-for-all that rapidly descended into a survival of the fittest. A recipe for disaster.
Almost as if someone had designed the kind of pressure cooker likely to explode.
Most of the guards were nine foot Giforians with a smattering of slightly smaller Drefs. They seemed impervious to physical attack, brushing assailants away like flies, and equally impervious to cries for help. If anything they found the antics of their charges either amusing or repulsive. They made no attempt to indulge in any interplay.
Inside the huts no distinction was made between the inmates – rich, poor, famous, criminal, male, female they were all heaped in together, supplied with the same tunics and left to organise themselves. It proved fertile ground for squabbles, baiting, bullying, rape and intimidation that broke down into regular nasty fights. Some huts were orderly otherswere run by various factions who organised things for the benefit of a ruthless minority. The strongest and meanest prevailed.
Every few minutes more craft would arrive to spill out their cargoes of furious or bewildered people who were crammed in to the over full huts. The strange glassy bunks were pushed closer together and more crammed in. Feeble attempts were made at privacy with sheets pinned up and ‘inmates’ with nothing to do sat listlessly or dozed on their bunks. The basic, tasteless food was picked over and only consumed out of hunger. Entertainment was restricted to a stroll between huts and gossip with fellow inmates. Some tried to keep themselves fit through a fitness regime but most lazed around listlessly and grew increasingly despondent. There were three main topics of conversation: why had they all been singled out? Where were they going? What was going to happen to them?
An air of anger, violence and fear hung over the camps. It was waiting to ignite.
On arrival the newcomers were processed by big lumbering Leff who scanned, cross-checked DNA, chipped, vaccinated and sorted them in a perfunctory manner. They were then roughly led to their new ‘homes’. Most were so stunned by what had happened that they moved through the process in a trance. Occasionally someone would break down into a fit of hysterics or resist, arguing fiercely, shouting, ranting, beating at one of the reptiles or attempting to run away. They were roughly manhandled and brought back into line. It was soon apparent that the lizards were faster and stronger and seemed completely impervious to pleas or attacks. Resistance was futile. The troopers had a job to do and they intended to do it. They carried out their role dispassionately.
The boredom did nothing to lift the air of hostility that gripped the place. There was nobody to turn to for help, nobody to ask, no questions answered. They were left to stew, to wonder why they were here and what was going to happen to them. Conspiracies festered.
I wanted to tap into the wave of populism that is sweeping the country and identify some of the nationalistic patriot tropes. I also wanted to explore the emotional and political dynamics of relationships.
Sci-fi for me is about the life we are living. I just create a different setting within which to explore it.
Chapter 9 – The Meeting
‘Bloody hell,’ Denby squawked as they approached the Ashley. There were crowds outside and it was twenty minutes before they were due to start. He turned to Billy with a look of incredulity on his face. ‘They can’t fucking be here for our meeting, can they?’
Billy shook his head in shock. ‘I wish I’d made a few notes.’
‘You’ll be fine, you daft sod,’ Charlene remarked. ‘You never usually have any trouble spouting your head off. Just tell them how it is.’
Billy had turned puce and looked far from convinced.
‘We’ll all be right behind you,’ Cheryl said, frowning as she looked at the milling crowd outside the pub.
‘Yep,’ Foxy added, ‘a long, long way behind!’
They managed to squeeze in through the door and push their way through the crowd to the bar where they were hemmed in and turned to face the crowd. Billy nervously stood at the front flanked by Charlene and Billy with the others pressing in around them. They had no option but to be squeezed together; the crowd was that tightly packed. There was a loud babble of noise with everybody talking at once. You had to shout to be heard.
‘Right Everyone!!’ Billy shouted. Nobody took the slightest bit of notice. ‘Hello! Can I have your attention?’
‘Up on the bar,’ Charlene hissed in his ear, shoving him towards the counter. Nobby reached over and Denby and Foxy gave him a hoist and Billy found himself up on the bar looking down at the crowd below. It did not take long for the people to notice him. The noise died away.
Billy peered round at a sea of faces packed like a bag of jelly beans. A great wave of nausea welled up inside him but he battled it down.
‘Hmmmph,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for coming.’ It came out like a squeak. ‘Thank you. Thank you for coming,’ he stammered, his voice stronger. Then, miraculously the panic inside him subsided and he found his voice. ‘Bloody hell! I didn’t expect so many of you.’ A big cheer went up and he felt himself relax.
‘We’re all here because of the same thing,’ he went on more confidently. ‘We’re here because of these bloody lizards.’ A great roar went up that buoyed him along. ‘They’ve been dragging people away, terrorising families. It’s a bloody tyranny of fear!’
A roar went up. They unanimously agreed. You could see Billy visibly swell as the crowd boosted him.
‘They tell us that it’s for our own good,’ he told them while making it clear that he did not believe a word. A disgruntled boo went around the room. ‘I reckon it’s nothing short of control!’ The crowd liked that. A roar went up around the room. He jabbed his finger accusingly in the air. ‘These bloody lizards are trying to control us! They want us to shut up and for us to roll over!’
By now the crowd were baying. They were lapping this up. This is just what they wanted to hear.
‘I say, enough!’ Billy jabbed.
‘Enough!’ they roared back. ‘Enough! Enough! Enough!’ Punctuating each jab of Billy’s finger.
‘We want our country back!’ Billy shouted.
‘WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK!!’ they roared back at him. Billy looked round at the animated crowd. He couldn’t believe it. In no time at all he’d worked them into a frenzy.
It went on with more of the same. He fed them his gripes in short punchy one-liners and they amplified it back at him tenfold. It flowed out of him like lager out of Nobby’s taps.
‘Bloody Ada!’ Charlene exclaimed as they walked back. She was looking at her phone. She looked across at Billy with a startled face. ‘There’s over two hundred thousand hits on the site I put up!’
‘Might need a bigger venue for the next meeting,’ Foxy jested.
Billy looked across at Denby. What the fuck had they unleashed?
‘I reckon we need to be watching our backs,’ Bob remarked dourly. ‘Those fucking lizards are going to be taking a dim view of all this. They’ll be pulling us in with all them others. We’ll be the ones brainwashed!’
That sent a shiver through all of them. Debbie glanced up at the sky as if expecting an alien craft to swoop down out of the heavens and Charlene flashed Billy a worried look. Bob was right. They were putting themselves in the spotlight.
‘Gotta be done,’ Billy stated resolutely, walking with a defiant swagger.
Chapter 10 – Consolidation
Ron was in a quandary. Being rushed off to New York and told he was running the show had thrown him into a complete daze. He felt like he was awake in some weird dream that he couldn’t fight his way out of. Was any of this real? Had the lizards really come? Were they really putting him in charge? Or was this some strange hallucination? Probably someone had slipped some acid into his drink and all this was some great fiction served up by his overheated brain? Perhaps he was really stuck in some kind of Matrix? He was half expecting Keanu Reeves to walk in at any moment. It was too preposterous for words. Anything was more likely than the scenario he was being served up with right now. Yet it seemed real. It felt real. He found himself sitting down and shaking his head to clear the absurdities out, as if a few shakes of the head might bring everything back the way it was before.
Gradually it felt as if he was emerging from a narcotic haze. It was real. He really was here. As Chameakegra began to prime him on what they were going to do it slowly began to dawn on him that he really was here, it really was happening to him and he was being presented with a programme by a bunch of alien lizards, a programme that he actually approved of, from what he had seen of it. He was being asked to take control of a scheme to improve the world, a vision that weirdly aligned itself with his own ideals. Uncanny. Though it was totally ridiculous he was going to have to go along with it. What else could he do? Go and admit himself to the nearest mental asylum?
‘We are prepared to work with you Hydrans to create a better society,’ Chameakegra was telling him. ‘We will supply the means to enable the alterations – the scientific and technological expertise – but it requires a Hydran government to back and implement the changes.’
‘Whoa,’ Ron said, coming out of his trance and raising his hands to slow her down, ‘what changes? What changes are you after me implementing? All I’ve got to go on is that speech you delivered on the TV. I need details.’
Chameakegra’s iridescent green eyes seemed to glow. Ron got the impression that she was finding this amusing. ‘Right,’ she said slowly as if addressing a child. ‘We are looking to generate a global Hydran culture that is well-adjusted, non-violent, compassionate and tolerant. A single global culture that incorporates the richness of the different cultures that are incorporated but one that operates under an overarching philosophy based on equality, fairness and justice. We want a culture that retains the vibrancy and creativity of your species but is rid of the destructiveness. That global culture would set up a new zeitgeist and alter the way Hydrans develop and think.’
‘All very well,’ Ron remarked sceptically, playing along with the illusion as if it was real. ‘That all seems too good to be true. Very idealistic. I’m not even sure it can be achieved.’
Chameakegra studied him with an unflinching gaze. ‘That is what we are hoping to find out.’
Ron peered back at her, no longer intimidated by her size and ferocious appearance. ‘I’m all in favour of non-violence, equality and the rest.’
‘We know.
Ron peered at her questioningly.
‘We’ve carried out the tests. That’s why you are here. You have the qualities and ethics that we are looking for.’
‘But why me?’ Ron bleated.
The Giforian made a mannerism that Ron recognised as a chuckle. The more he was around these lizards the more he was beginning to understand them At least on a superficial level. He was certain that the lizard was amused.
‘I am concerned that Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra are doing their best to undermine your efforts,’ Judge Booghramakegra messaged.
‘I suspect the same,’ Chameakegra messaged back. ‘In fact I’m certain of it.’
‘I would suggest that you look to take charge of the rehabilitation process as soon as possible and look to have an input on the rounding up of the reprobates.’
‘I have limited power. We have a joint command which means that I cannot greatly influence what Grrndakegra is doing and how she is doing it. The lunar facilities are coming along but will take time. We will have to house millions.’
‘Can’t you at least begin to process some of them?’
‘Not really. I have the team of psychologists and psychiatrists you have sent all ready and prepared. They are fully up to speed on Hydran psychology. As soon as I am able I will initiate the process. But until I get the go-ahead that the facilities are ready to receive a batch, my claws are tied.’
‘From what I am seeing the rounding up process is causing a great deal of animosity.’ Judge Booghramakegra seemed very annoyed.
‘That was always going to be the case in the best of circumstances,’ Chameakegra reflected. ‘But I am sure that Grrndakegra is not making it run as smoothly as it might have.’
‘Some of those scenes look dreadful.’ Booghramakegra asserted. ‘Do you want me to press for you taking overall command? I can put some pressure on Beheggakegri.’
Chameakegra considered this. She knew that, despite the judge’s power, there would be a process and Beheggakegri would certainly throw some flujes in the werbez. By the time they got that through the damage would likely be done. The round-up would likely be over apart from minor mopping up. Open conflict with Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra might prove do more harm than good. ‘No, No, leave it for the moment. I shall see if I can’t sort things out.’
‘If you need help just ask. I think this experiment is of the utmost importance.
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.
I (as Ron Forsythe Sci-fi writer) wanted to create a juxtaposition of a ‘typical’ working class group of friends with that of a professional writer in the setting of an alien invasion. The human race has been judged. Now comes the cleansing – the way to improve the situation. The aliens are bringing in measures to rectify the historical failings of the human race. The locals are watching the alien broadcast in their local pub:
‘Jesus,’ Denby said, his face drawn into a disbelieving sneer, ‘did you see that face.’
‘Ugly buggers, aren’t they,’ Foxy replied.
‘Did you catch that bit about countries,’ Billy said, still staring at the silent TV and shaking his head. ‘Those bastards think they can come along and take our country away from us. They got another fucking think coming. Trying to buy us off with all that guff about how great things are going to be. Pile of fucking horseshit if you ask me!’
‘Countries and democracy!’ Denby scowled. ‘They think they can fucking put their own people in and tell us what to do.’
‘At least they said that they weren’t going to do us any harm,’ Debbie commented whimsically.
‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ Billy sneered. ‘We’ve heard all that before. Every fucking time there’s a coup they fucking tell everyone that it’s all going to be alright – we’re here to put things right’ – next thing you know there’s fucking firing squads, torture chambers and the fucking gestapo.’
‘You saw how they were dragging all those people off,’ Denby threw his weight in behind Billy. ‘Where the fuck do you think they were going – the local beauty parlour?’
‘But they said they’d be right back, they were just er, being er adjusted.’ Debbie replied, looking doubtful but still desperately wanting to believe what the lizard had said.
Billy chuckled. ‘They’re being adjusted alright. Probably their fucking body parts are being ‘adjusted’ into other places.’
‘You don’t need to scare everyone,’ Charlene said sharply. ‘Not in front of the kids.’ Her eyes darted towards the kids, little Billy junior was playing with his cars but it wasn’t hard to see that he was all ears.
Billy grimaced but shut up.
‘Might not be a bad thing if they take all the right people,’ Foxy said with a big grin. ‘There’s a few of them bastards I wouldn’t mind seeing rearranged. I could make a few suggestions about people and parts. That Farage is a dickhead to start with.’
‘First they came for the communists….’ Denby recited solemnly. That was about all he knew.
‘I just hope they open the shops and let the lads get back to work,’ Kathy said miserably. ‘We’ve got to eat, feed the kids and pay the rent. You can’t do that on fresh air.’
‘They said they were going to make everything better,’ Debbie persevered. Everybody looked sideways at her as if she was nuts so she shut up.
‘At least it’s put a stop to all those immigrants crossing the channel,’ John remarked dourly, changing the subject back on to safer ground.
‘Naw,’ Foxy chuckled. ‘We’ve just got ourselves a different bunch of immigrants – Big lunks with scaly bodies!’
‘You’ll be laughing the other side of your head once these fucking reptiles are through with us,’ Billy replied angrily. ‘First they take our bleeding country away…’
Ron was watching the video links carefully. He was weighing it up with what that gaudy lizard had said. It seemed to make sense to him. They were dragging people out of their mansions, not the ones out of ordinary houses. Perhaps they were doing what they said they were and removing the greedy and power-mad. He thought about Jean. He knew she worked in finance and was always crawling with gold. Her Lotus parked in front of their large house shouted something about her income. Then there was George. He lived in the biggest house in the Close. Nobody knew quite what he did for a living but he was never short. Perhaps the lizards were doing exactly what they purported to be doing? Or was this just the start of something more sinister?
Ron wrote about aliens for a living so he was familiar with the usual scenarios. Aliens came in with their massive laser guns and hyperbolic weapons and flattened all opposition. They set up a command post and wiped out all opposition so they could strip the country of everything they desired. That was usually minerals, water, slaves and food – often the inhabitants themselves were the food. That didn’t seem to be the case with this invasion. At least not yet.
If this was an alien invasion it was pretty bloodless. They hadn’t waded in with weapons blazing. They had simply taken over. Even when they were dragging people away they weren’t killing or injuring them. Even their guns were simply stun guns. What was obvious to Ron was that they had the technology to do what they wanted but they weren’t destroying and killing. Despite the fact that we were completely helpless they were spinning us a positive vision for the future. They had no need to do that. Was this just a subtle control mechanism? Were they playing for time in order to consolidate? He could not see it. With their superior technology they were already in complete control. Perhaps he should believe in what they were saying?
Time would tell. So far he was impressed with the rhetoric. Were the actions going to live up to it though?
Grrndakegra patched through directly to the Neff. Her grinning face appeared floating above Chameakegra’s tridee set on her consul in the bridge open to full scrutiny from the rest of Chameakegra’s crew. A deliberate act. She hadn’t bothered to use Chameakegra’s personal connection or give any warning. Chameakegra noted the half-raised crest and blue sheen. Grrndakegra was enjoying herself.
‘Nice speech,’ Grrndakegra remarked as an opening gambit with what could be interpreted as a half sneer. Chameakegra was left not quite knowing if that was meant sarcastically or not. It threw her. But that was the intent. ‘Do you reckon that will do the trick?’ Her face now had evolved into an unmistakeable full sneer.
‘Not for one moment,’ Chameakegra replied evenly, controlling herself with difficulty and not rising to the goading. ‘It’s going to take a lot more than that to win the Hydrans over. But it’s a start.’
‘A start indeed,’ Grrndakegra was openly mocking.
Chameakegra was desperately trying to keep herself from displaying a hint of yellow annoyance. Her eyes narrowed. She needed to take her on and find a suitable retort. She decided to go on the attack and change direction. ‘Can you please ask your troops to try to be less violent with their arrests? Their communications network is alive with disturbing scenes. It’s going to make our task a lot harder.’
Grrndakegra grinned, the blue deepening on her crest. She was loving this. ‘You can’t cook a jebba without cracking shells.’
Chameakegra appeared unfazed. ‘Yes, but you can do it so that it doesn’t look as if you are at least respecting the jebba, not relishing its demise.’
Grrndakegra shrugged. ‘They’re just doing their job. If the Hydrans didn’t struggle and scream so much they wouldn’t have to use force and it’d all be hunky dory.’
‘How long is this operation going to go on for?’ Chameakegra allowed a little yellow annoyance to tinge the tips of her crest.
‘Until we’ve rounded them all up,’ Grrndakegra replied cheerfully. ‘Thanks to your wonderful research we seem to have got around 90% in the first trawl. Pretty good going. But I reckon that tracking down that last ten percent is likely to be a lot trickier. They’ll have gone to ground.’
Chameakegra was not impressed with the false praise. The tone of Grrndakegra’s voice made it quite clear that she was playing with her. It only served to annoy Chameakegra more.
‘The longer the operation takes the more damage it does to our long-term strategy.’
‘It’ll be what it’ll be,’ Grrndakegra grinned infuriatingly.
Chameakegra knew it was pointless continuing down this line. She was just providing Grrndakegra with ammunition. The operation would run its course. No doubt, given time, they wouldn’t track down all the errant Hydrans. Some would have gone to ground or be lost in the system. The raids would throw more fuel on the conflagration but they would just have to ride it and hope that in the long run the Hydrans would see that she was as good as her word and there could be a better future. She just wished that Grrndakegra was on board. She had a distinct feeling that Grrndakegra was actively working against her. But then what could she expect from a Beheggakegri appointment. ‘What is happening to all the Hydrans you are picking up?’ She asked, choosing a different tack. ‘We haven’t completed the lunar installations yet. The installations won’t be ready for weeks.’
‘Holding them in temporary camps,’ Grrndakegra replied almost gleefully. ‘Don’t worry your crest on that one. We’re taking good care of them.’
Chameakegra had her doubts but there was nothing she could say. This joint leadership presented enormous problems. She could not control things. Grrndakegra was a blot on her plans. She made a note to herself to put a jigger up the construction team. The soon the installations were complete the sooner she could prise the errant Hydrans away from Grrndakegra and begin to work on the reprogramming that she had devised. Just by looking at Grrndakegra’s gloating response she could tell she was up to no good. Chameakegra had the distinct feeling that those camps might be counterproductive. A cloud of doubt spread its gloom over her optimism. With hindsight this whole extraction operation seemed rushed. Why had they gone into this prematurely, before everything was fully prepared? That had been Grrndakegra. Was it just that Grrndakegra was a bit gung-ho or was there something more sinister behind it? Too many people wanted this to fail and she had more than a feeling that Grrndakegra was one of them.
‘What’s you next magic step?’ Grrndakegra asked mockingly. ‘Another speech to reassure our compliant Hydrans perhaps?’
‘Normality.’
‘What do you mean normality?’
‘It’s imperative that we get the Hydrans back to work, open the shops and allow normal discourse. Opening the offices and shops will be essential.’
‘Oh yes,’ Grrndakegra actually laughed, her blue deepening and crest rising, ‘I can’t wait to see how they all cope now that their bosses are all taken away and all the hierarchy has collapsed. No government to provide structure. Send them back and it’ll be chaos.’ She seemed delighted by the thought of that prospect.
‘Quite probably,’ Chameakegra replied evenly. ‘We shall see. And not all the bosses are gone – just the corrupt ones. It’ll be a bit of a test to see how the ones who are left handle the situation. Remove the bad loohs and the good loohs rise to the surface. Besides, we’ll lend them a hand.’
‘Or they flounder around and go to pieces without direction.’ Grrndakegra seemed to find that immensely amusing.
‘Some will. Some won’t.’ She was finding this exasperating. ‘They are intelligent and capable you know? They aren’t all corrupt and useless.’
Grrndakegra looked as if she didn’t believe that for one minute.
‘We’ll open up the work, set the transport hub operating and get the media working, under our supervision. We’ll provide support.’
‘That from the Neff then?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’ll work then. You’ve got a massive, well-trained crew and there won’t be too much need for support, will there?’ The tone suggested that Grrndakegra did not expect them to cope.
‘Neff will handle it. We’ll trouble shoot.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Grrndakegra was enjoying herself. ‘Meanwhile we’ll continue mopping up. See how many of the bredlethits we can track down.’
Chameakegra felt herself bridle at the use of the derogatory term but chose to let it ride. ‘We’ll set up an interim Hydran government to reassure the Hydrans that we will eventually leave them to govern themselves.’
A flood of mauve amusement rushed across Grrndakegra’s crest. ‘How you going to form that government given that the bulk of the politicians were among the first on the list?’
‘There were plenty left,’ Chameakegra replied. ‘We have expertise from every government from all over the planet, more than enough to form a global government. Not all of them were corrupt and useless.’
‘And who will lead this wonderful new institution?’
Chameakegra had thought long and hard about this. Who was fit and proper to lead the Hydrans into a new age? Neff had provided lists of well-suited individuals for all government positions. She certainly did not want to set up a similar structure as had failed in the past? Provide fertile ground for greed, nepotism and corruption to flourish? Or was it possible to create something better, built on idealism and altruism? Could she select the right people for the job? She had thoroughly scrutinised the lists Neff had provided her with and made some decisions. ‘We will place a creative in charge; someone who does not seek glory, power or wealth. The very desire to do the job would make them unelectable. We want someone who does not want to do the job.’
Grrndakegra found that highly amusing. She guffawed out loud. It sounded to her like a sure recipe for failure. ‘Good luck with that.’ She seemed delighted with the way things were going and displayed no interest in involving herself. It filled Chameakegra with a greater determination.
Chameakegra studied the mail with interest. Was it telling her anything she did not already know?
‘Commander Chameakegra, thank you for keeping me in the loop and furnishing me with updates as to your progress. I fully concur with your strategy. I do wonder if you haven’t started too early. It would have been better to have the facilities set up and rehabilitation started before the extraction. I’m sure those camps will create trauma that will make the process of restoration more difficult. I am intrigued as to whether these violent and avaricious tendencies are genetically ingrained in the species and whether those tendencies can be rectified. The Hydrans are certainly an interesting race and I quite agree with you that the creativity they exude is something that would be valuable to the Federation. I’m certainly enjoying their music and art. Good luck.’
‘One more thing: Beheggakegri seems very anxious to dissociate me from this experiment. I think he’s up to something. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t placed Commander Grrndakegra there to deliberately sabotage your scheme. Watch your back. Do not worry. I am staying on the case. I am here if you need me. Judge Booghramakegra.’
Surely Grrndakegra would not deliberately do anything too underhand? If that could be proved she’d lose everything. But then there were a thousand ways Grrndakegra could make it difficult without crossing any line. She could easily subvert the entire operation while seeming to be fully on board. Grrndakegra was Beheggakegri’s tool and she knew it. Could she do anything about it though? If Grrndakegra was intent on putting sand in the ointment she could jeopardise everything.
Chameakegra thought that it might be a good idea to check out those camps, get the lunar facilities up and running and press ahead with her strategy. The sooner she could get Grrndakegra away from anything she might cause mischief with the better. Chameakegra really wanted this to work. She was certain that the Hydrans could be rehabilitated. She was even more determined to stop Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra putting a puncture in the plasma field.
The original idea behind Judgement was to provide a vehicle to analyse the good and bad aspects of human civilisation. The idea behind The Cleansing was to suggest how the bad stuff could be remedied.
Chapter 6 – The Plan
Chameakegra sat in her quarters concentrating deep into her mind. How could she undo some of the damage done by the extractions? How could she soften Grrndakegra’s hard style? The Hydrans were now familiar with the look of Federation races, particularly Giforians and Drefs. She knew that their features produced terror. Hydran folklore was full of dragons, serpents and scaly worms. To them they appeared like creatures from their nightmares. Was there any way she could counter that? It seemed impossible.
What had been the effect of her first broadcast? The research seemed to suggest that not much had gone in at all. The Hydrans had been in total shock and were completely unreceptive. Neff’s great mind suggested that she should simply repeat the message. Hydrans found repetition reassuring. Psychologically it would help. But Neff intimated that there was no magic cure, no panacea. Sudden exposure to a superior technology always resulted in psychological turmoil. All that could be done was to keep repeating the same message and demonstrate the veracity of it through actions. That took time – a lot of time. Chameakegra took that on board.
The idea of her second broadcast was to put a little more flesh on the bones. She aimed to pick up the same points as last time and build on them.
‘People of Hydra,’ Commander Chameakegra spoke in her most soothing tone. This time she was allowing a close-up of her face taking care not to show her crest which she thought might still be too frightening for Hydrans to stomach. She was working on the principle that the Hydrans had seen the hordes of Giforian and Dref troopers on the street. The time for pretence was over. The best psychological ploy was to be completely transparent, lay out the reality and all the Hydrans to come to terms with what the situation was then they could start to come to terms with it. ‘I am Commander Chameakegra – the officer in charge of this assistance scheme. I am sure that you have been extremely frightened by what has happened. I can fully understand that. I can only repeat that we mean you no harm. What we are doing is in your best interests.’
Chameakegra peered out from billions of homes with a face that she hoped looked sincere. Hydrans had never seen alien races before so it was a big ask to expect apes to interpret saurian expressions and scaly faces were notoriously difficult to read. It was a risk. She pressed on. There was nothing she could do about that. Her scaly face was something they were going to have to get used to. She just hoped they could adjust quickly.
‘I would like to tell you something about us. We are a Federation of intelligent beings from all over the galaxy. Intelligent life is rare and our aim is to assist it to develop and prosper. This is not an invasion so much as an intervention. We are here to assist you to progress.’
Images of polluted areas and wars filled the screen.
‘Our investigations have concluded that action was necessary. You and your planet are teetering on the brink of catastrophe. Wars, violence, social breakdown and environmental disaster have taken you to the brink of disaster. We had no choice but to intervene.’
Chameakegra was hoping that the Hydrans were savvy enough to at least partially accept the truth of what she was saying. After all, she had heard it expressed all over the planet. Even though many of them turned a blind eye to it, or were in denial, most did recognise that things were hanging by a precarious thread.
‘We are briefly taking control of your planet. We have dismantled your military and suspended all forms of government. We have temporarily closed your media. Please do not be concerned. I will explain what we are going to do.’
This was the crux. Could they accept that it was necessary for the Federation to take over the planet? Could they psychologically come to terms with this invasion? She was projecting a pinky beige colour in order not to appear too outlandish. She guessed that a psychedelic face might just push them over the edge.
‘We have completely undone the tribal idea of nations. They will not be reinstated. In due course we will set up a global government which, in the future, will be run by yourselves for the benefit of all Hydrans. There will never again be the need for armies and military forces. There will never again be any more wars.’
Chameakegra thought that explanation was better. Even if they did not agree maybe they could understand the reasoning.
‘As for the members of this interim government we have assembled; we have replaced your democratic system with one based on ability. Instead of electing individuals into office, based on lies, charisma, promises, lust for power and greed, our supercomputer has studied the qualities of all eight billion Hydrans and selected people best suited to carry out the jobs based on their ability and character. All too often your democratic system has elected self-servers, liars, inept fools and thieves. That is largely why you were in the mess you were in. We have replaced the corrupt and ineffective with those most able and best suited to do a good job.’ Her face seemed to crinkle into a smile as she attempted to come across in a more informal manner. ‘Allow me to point out that if you were appointing anybody into an important role you would study their qualifications, experience and interview them to ascertain their views and character in order to select the most appropriate candidate for the role. Governing is the most important job in the world. You would not appoint them through an election.’
Chameakegra was attempting to look serious but benevolent. She wasn’t really certain how that might come across to Hydrans. This was the crux of her speech.
‘So, citizens of Hydra, we have made two moves that may cause you some consternation but which we believe are essential for your progress. We have given you a global government, unifying you under one overarching system and we have placed people of ability and integrity in charge.’
Here, she knew she was treading on some delicate psychological territory. Her investigations had led her to recognise how deep the tribal traits were embedded. Many Hydrans seemed intrinsically patriotic and nationalistic to the point of rabid xenophobic racism. The idea of their nation being done away with altogether would be utterly abhorrent. Would the prospect of there being no more wars be sufficient to bring them on board? The camera zoomed in to focus on her eyes, eyes that were not dissimilar to that of Hydrans, apart from the brightness of their colour, vulnerable eyes that she hoped might project compassion and verity. She hoped that they could see those emotions.
It was time to grasp another thorny issue and clear the table.
‘You will have seen that we have taken away numerous individuals and I am sure this has caused you a great deal of fear. Do not be concerned. We have identified all the people who, for one reason or another, are responsible for the precarious state of your world. These are the people who have displayed malevolent levels of greed, lust for power or violence, or have obvious psychological, emotional and anti-social behaviour traits. I repeat do not be concerned. They will be returned to you unharmed. It was necessary to remove them so that we could carry out the cleansing. They will come back rehabilitated with their empathy and compassion fully restored so that they can perform positive roles in your society. We aim to leave you with a vibrant, happy, well-adjusted and productive society that no longer takes you to the brink of extinction.’
At least it might allay some of their fears and give them hope. She knew their imaginations were probably conjuring up scenes of torture and murder. This might help allay some of those fears though she was aware that she might be reopening wounds and feeding fires. She allowed a reddish tint to spread over the scales of her face, softening it, providing warmth and indicating a positive emotion. It had to be said.
‘We have a clear vision for the future. One that will make you prosperous and happy and enable your progress into a new age of science and technology. The stars await you. After we have restored your government we will overhaul your other institutions so that they function properly and enable your society and culture to reach its potential and assume a leading role in the Federation.’
Providing hope for the future was essential if they were going to progress. She tried to present a sincere expression that she hoped they might be able to decipher. From her experience Hydrans were good at interpreting facial expressions, though the Giforian features were nowhere near as malleable as those of Hydrans.
‘We will take steps to overhaul our industry and energy production so that it is no longer polluting and damaging to the environment. We will clean up your rivers and seas, improve the quality of your soil and air and restore the biosphere to the dynamic state it should be in.’
Chameakegra was confident that this would appeal to a sizeable number of Hydrans and find a majority in favour. Her investigations had shown the state of the environment to be a major concern. Her big eyes shone out hypnotically as she paused between each element. She wanted them to take in the gist of what she was saying even if, in their present state of turmoil, they were unable to retain the detail. This exercise was all about the long, slow process of building trust. Chameakegra herself had to believe. She had to believe one hundred percent that at the end of this process the Hydrans were both capable and worthy of being saved and Hydra had a great future. She could not allow herself to think for an instant that Beheggakegri might get his way, the Hydrans eradicated and all this in vain. Not for a second. She exuded sincerity.
‘We will make education a priority in order that young minds are nurtured and expanded so they can reach their creative best.’
Everyone cared about their kids. Surely this was another important area to emphasise. She resisted the desire to raise her hands to emphasise the words. The last thing that Hydrans needed was to be shown an image of Giforian claws. Not at this stage.
‘We will enable a care system so that the weak are supported and greatly improve your health systems with all manner of preventative and remedial technology. This will enable you to cure many of your present-day maladies, rectify genetic flaws and prevent many diseases that you presently suffer from so that you can all flourish. We will provide treatments to cure your various addictions, addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex and gambling so that your societies will be healthier.’
This too might help to paint a positive vision of what was to come that might win a number of Hydrans over.
‘We aim to give you the means to improve your infrastructure and housing so that the quality of everyone’s lives will improve greatly. When the resources of your planet are more evenly distributed, far less is wasted on destructive warfare, and the innovations on technology and science have been introduced all your lives will be transformed.’
Chameakegra’s image hung there in all its glory. She could only hope that she had done enough. She had tried to sell them a vision of a glowing future. She had to hope that they could absorb it and see the benefits. Could this vision of a fabulous future compensate for the fears and shock of this encounter and upheaval? Time would tell. At least it was a start. She smiled benignly out at them radiating peace and hope.
The picture faded away.
I like to ground my Sci-fi in the present time. In this novel I introduced myself, under the Ron Forsythe alias, as a character. That was fun.
The novel itself is an objective view of humanity in which I attempt to dissect the good and the bad and delve into the reasons.
Here’s Chapter 5:
Ron lived on a mixed estate. There were people from all walks of life. He liked to associate with creative people and live in a rural environment. Nature and creativity were important to him, but pleasant surrounds were sought after by many different types of people. Down his street there were people from many professions.
The night was one of those clear, bright nights, the type where the stars are visible as a glimmering scattering of glistening salt on a black velvet cloth. The moon, almost full, lit everything up with its blue light, creating pools of inky shadow. The absence of street lamps enabled the beauty of the scene to be appreciated in full. Ron cherished such nights and probably got to appreciate them more than most. He always worked late at night, when it was quiet and inspiration struck, not finishing until tiredness stilled his fingers on the keyboard and his sponge of a brain had been wrung dry. After shutting down his computer he would often get himself a last cup of coffee and take the dog out for a walk. Woody, named after his idol Woody Guthrie, was a loyal, loving border collie who did not like other dogs. He was wont to get his retaliation in first. Thus it was preferable to take him for walks when other dogs were not around. Ron often remarked that Woody thought outside was permanently dark.
Ron’s writer’s block had lifted and a new storyline had magically coalesced in his head. While strolling down the road towards the lane, lost in thought, mulling over the twists in the plot, he was brought up short by Woody’s sudden aggressive reaction. He had frozen, ears back, hackles up and fur bristling, growling and staring straight ahead. Ron immediately shortened the lead and peered ahead at the moonlit street. If there was another dog they’d be in for a loud barking match, which might not please the neighbours any too well, it being close to three in the morning.
There was no dog. What Woody was seeing was a large black shadow rapidly approaching, accompanied by a deep subdued throbbing. Ron pulled Woody in and grabbed him by the collar as the craft silently passed overhead and hovered a little way down the road. He knew exactly what it was: one of those alien ships. He watched as it seemed to make up its mind and arrived at its destination. It rapidly descended. As soon as it hit the ground large doorways dilated open and a number of lizard troopers spilled out. It was as clear as daylight. Woody barked madly and had to be restrained with all of Ron’s might. The lizards ignored Ron and Woody. They split into two contingents, one group making a beeline for George’s place, the other a little further down, focusing on Jean and Dean’s house. Without hesitation the doors were booted in and they disappeared inside. Ron stood agape, frozen, staring at the scene taking place in front of him while absently trying to calm Woody, patting his head as he lunged at his collar.
Screams could be heard from inside both houses. Within seconds the lizards reappeared, dragging George and Jean to their craft while a desperate Dean yelled, screamed, and pulled at them, trying to free Jean from their clutches. They brushed him aside like one might bat away an annoying wasp. The two were bundled into the craft, the doors dilated shut, and the craft lifted off and was gone, leaving a distraught Dean in its wake. Ron couldn’t quite believe what he had just seen. Apart from a hysterical Dean, now crumpled sobbing in the street, and two splintered doors hanging half open, there was nothing to suggest it had really happened. He shook his head to wake himself up and released the now‑submissive Woody.
Coming out of his trance, Ron rushed forward to comfort the stricken Dean, helping him up while Woody stood watching with his tail wagging. He obviously considered this a much more interesting walk than normal.
Back in Ron’s kitchen the two men were seated at the table, mugs of strong tea in their hands, while a satisfied Woody coiled up in his bed contented. As far as he was concerned the fun was over. Dean was still shaking.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ Ron asked.
Dean shook his head and was about to collapse into a blubbering wreck again. Ron patted his hand.
‘They’ve taken Jean,’ he wailed, unable to say anything more.
‘But why have they taken Jean?’ Ron muttered largely rhetorically, utterly bewildered by the events he had witnessed.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know,’ Dean wailed miserably. He turned to Ron with a face creased in anguish. ‘What will they do to her? Will I see her again?’ With that he descended into a whimpering heap.
Ron did his best to console the man. In truth they hardly knew each other. They moved in very different circles. But they were neighbours, and neighbours looked out for each other.
What was going on out there? Why had they taken Jean and George? They were hardly desperate criminals, were they? Was this the start? Would they be coming for everyone else soon? This was all taking a nasty turn. He put an arm around the sobbing Dean’s shoulder and told him it was OK; it was all going to turn out alright.
Despite the clear instructions that they were to stay in their own homes, the Ashley Arms crew broke the curfew and furtively made their way back to the pub. It felt like a refuge. With no TV or radio to provide news bulletins they had nothing to go by. In their part of town the abductions were few. None of them had actually witnessed an abduction, though they had all seen the alien craft flying back and forth overhead but could not see what was happening. Vague screaming could be heard in the distance — enough to scare them silly.
‘Something’s up,’ Billy observed, peering out of the window at the sky as another alien craft shot past.
‘Come away from that bloody window,’ Nobby the landlord ordered. ‘I don’t want you drawing bloody attention to us.’
Reluctantly Billy pulled himself away and rearranged the curtains.
‘They’re up to something,’ he growled, glaring around at the others.
The kids were having a time of it, racing around the pub, giggling and laughing oblivious to what was going on. There was no school and a new playground. What was not to like? Besides, for some reason they were being given unlimited crisps and pop.
‘Seems there are all sorts going on,’ Foxy remarked, trawling through his phone. All the media was down, but the phones were miraculously still working, and people all over the world were finding ways of evading the censorship and putting up snippets of various scenes of abduction, most of which were very disturbing. Doors were being smashed in and lizards emerging with struggling people. ‘They’re dragging people off.’
‘I think we can see that,’ Cheryl observed cuttingly.
The mood was grim as all of them started scrolling through the disturbing scenes that had begun springing up on their phones. Debbie looked to be on the verge of tears and was trying to hold it together.
‘At least we’ve still got power on,’ Kathy remarked, desperately trying to put a positive slant on things and looking to divert attention onto something else.
‘Where do you think they’re taking them?’ John muttered, glancing up from his phone. The abductions seemed to be taking place all over the world.
‘Who fucking knows,’ Billy growled, scrolling from one distressing scene to another as they popped up on his phone.
‘They seem to be focusing on all the wealthy areas,’ Foxy noted, observing the nature of the houses the lizards were targeting.
Everyone started to check that out. Foxy was right.
‘Right,’ Denby acknowledged, ‘they do.’
‘Do you think they’ll be coming for all of us?’ Charlene put into words what they were all thinking.
‘I don’t reckon so,’ Billy muttered, concentrating on his phone. ‘They look to be picking up all the rich bastards.’
‘Might just be the first phase,’ John remarked chillingly.
‘But what are they doing with them?’ Cheryl wondered.
‘What did that lizard say about it in that broadcast of hers?’ Denby asked, trying to think back to the night before. They’d all been so shocked that much of it hadn’t really gone in.
Everyone stared at Denby as they tried to recall what had been said.
‘I think that lizard said something about them taking away the ones responsible for causing the trouble,’ Debbie said thoughtfully. ‘And that we weren’t to worry. They would be returned unharmed.’
‘Yeah,’ Denby said. ‘I’ll take that with a pinch of salt.’
‘Sounds pretty lame if you fucking ask me,’ Billy muttered. ‘How do they know who’s causing trouble? I bet that’s just an excuse.’
‘It’ll be us next,’ Charlene muttered morbidly.
They all turned her way. The same thoughts were going through their heads.
‘Fucking hell,’ Denby growled, ‘this is a right mess.’
Opher Goodwin
Opher Goodwin is a genre‑defying writer whose work blends memoir, cultural history, and visionary fiction. A lifelong explorer of music, counterculture, and the human spirit, he writes with the urgency of someone who has lived inside the scenes he describes — from psychedelic clubs and protest movements to the creative communities that shaped generations. Goodwin’s books move between the personal and the political, the intimate and the mythic, capturing the raw energy of rebellion and the quiet moments of human connection that give it meaning. His fiction and non‑fiction alike are driven by a deep belief in creativity, compassion, and the power of people to reshape their world. For readers who crave stories rooted in lived experience, emotional truth, and the pulse of real cultural change, Goodwin’s work offers a rich, resonant journey through the forces that define us.
I wanted to use the novel to take a dispassionate view of humanity – our successes and failures – to look at us with an objective eye as a superior alien might do.
‘People of Hydra,’ unlike Grrndakegra’s frightening image of herself, Chameakegra had carefully chosen a shot of the solar system in all its glory as the backdrop to her broadcast. She hoped the beauty of the stars and planets might produce a soothing effect. The last thing she wanted was to scare the life out of the Hydrans.
‘My name is Chameakegra and I am the Commander of the Federation mission to the planet we call Hydra, the water world. The Federation is an intergalactic association of intelligent life. I work for UFOR – the United Federation of Races. Our intention is to find intelligent life, nurture it, and incorporate it into the fraternity of the Federation.’
This was at least partially true. There was no need, at this point, to terrify them by mentioning judgements and the weeding out of unsuitable species.
‘We are aware that this intervention will have caused you great stress. I would like to assure you that we mean you no harm. This is not an invasion. The people of the Federation are peaceful. We are here to assist you to a better future. We want you to prosper and will restore your full autonomy in due course. For the next day or two we would like you to stay at home, stay off the streets, and not go about your usual business. We will inform you when it is time to go back to work and get your lives back to normality. For the time being schools, shops, and offices will be closed. This will only be for a day or two. Do not worry. Things will soon return to how they were.’
Chameakegra paused to allow what she had said to sink in. There was a lot more she wanted to convey, but she did not want to overload them. In their shocked state they were not likely to be receptive, but she figured some explanation was better than none. If nothing else, the positive message and soothing tone might allay fears.
‘For a short time we will be taking control of your planet so that we can improve your institutions, education, manufacturing, science, and technology. We bring many wonderful gifts. You will shortly see that your lives will run on a far better footing. You will be more prosperous. The quality of your lives will greatly improve. When that interim period is over we will return the planet to you and hope that you may wish to voluntarily join our Federation and take your place as equal members of our galactic community.’
She thought it best to confront their fears directly, and Grrndakegra’s broadcast, full on.
‘We are aware that our appearance might seem frightening to you, but I would like to assure you that we are not at all scary. We are people just like you, and our intentions are friendly and peaceful.’
Chameakegra’s voice was so low and smooth it almost purred.
‘In the short term some of the things that will happen may seem frightening, but I would like to reassure you that they are for your benefit. You might not fully understand or appreciate how this will help you, but we are hopeful that in time you will come to see the wisdom of our actions.’
She had decided to tackle the thorny issue of the military and attempt to turn it into a positive.
‘We have already completely nullified all military bases across the entire globe. There will no longer be wars or conflict between nations.’
She allowed that to embed itself into their minds. Surely that had to be a big plus. War was the most terrible scourge. Nobody liked it, yet she could understand how the removal of their defences would leave the Hydrans feeling vulnerable. Could she turn it into a plus?
The next issue was one that had to be addressed – probably the most difficult of all. Hydrans were tribal and, at a stroke, she was telling them their tribalism was over and that they had lost all jurisdiction over their own destiny. That was hard for them to take, but it was best to state the facts and face it head on.
‘We have suspended all governments and political parties. There will no longer be any artificial division into nations. All Hydrans will be united into one global community. In a short while we will enable a world government to be constituted. We know that this will help you to prosper.’
She knew this part of her announcement was a possible negative for many Hydrans, but that goylit had to be grasped. Now she was poised to come up with a proposition that might prove even harder for them to take. She had to prepare them for what was about to happen in the hopes it might soften the blow.
‘In a while we shall be removing those elements we have identified as holding your progress back. I can assure you all that nothing unpleasant will happen to these individuals. They will be removed in order for us to enable their rehabilitation. The overly greedy, the belligerent and violent, those maddened by lust for power, and those with criminal intentions will be re‑educated and returned in a form preferable for themselves and for the good of your world. We aim to leave you with a fairer, friendlier, and more pleasant society based on compassion and equality.’
Chameakegra hoped that sounded suitably vague and positive. She now had to leave things on a positive note. Her purring voice was laden with sincerity.
‘Once again we apologise for the short‑term distress we have caused. I can only reassure you that this will be temporary. We in the Federation look forward to a bright future in which Hydrans are welcomed into our fold. We promise a future of prosperity and the sharing of science and technology that can only be dreamed of. We ask for your cooperation during this difficult transition. We hope that you can understand and bear with the disruption of these early stages. Thank you.’
The vista of planets and stars continued for a short while before fading away.
Chameakegra played back the broadcast and grimaced. It was crap. But at least it was five hundred times better than the one Grrndakegra had made. While it might not win over many Hydrans, at least it was unlikely to send them into fits of terror. She pressed the button to put it out.
The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books
In this novel I was using a number of different settings with political intrigue to create tension and interest. There was always an element of where was this heading? What was going to happen? I also had to develop the personalities of the personnel involved.
Sang thought long and hard about the message he was sending to Judge Booghramakegra. It was one thing for Beheggakegri to make his incandescent demands and quite another to deal with a Judge. He could not go in there making demands. He at least knew that, even if Beheggakegri didn’t. Judges were powerful. You didn’t mess with them. It required diplomacy — a concept that didn’t exist in Beheggakegri’s repertoire.
‘Judge Booghramakegra, now that your judgement has been completed regarding the Hydrans, Beheggakegri, Head of UFOR, has requested that I contact you. He is of the opinion that your continued presence might actually impede the operation by deflecting time and attention away from the task of reprogramming the Hydrans so they can be incorporated into the Federation. – Sang – Deputy Leader UFOR.’
He hoped that was respectful enough.
‘Grrndakegra,’ Beheggakegri growled. He dispensed with titles and formalities. ‘Listen, I want that vecal Chameakegra put in her place, you understand? That’s what I’ve put you in there for.’
Commander Grrndakegra bristled. She did not like anybody adopting that superior tone with her. She was used to due deference. She did not need talking to like a child. She knew why she’d been selected for this role. Beheggakegri wanted the Hydrans dispensed with and Chameakegra put back in her box. She worked that out for herself and she could see why. Chameakegra, with her namby‑pamby ways, was an insult to the profession. She’d be glad to take her down with all her highfalutin ideas. What the Federation needed was clear, no‑nonsense policies. They didn’t need crackpot idealism, but the way Beheggakegri was going about this was annoying.
‘I get the message.’ Her reply was terse. Beheggakegri’s overbearing manner was so irritating it put her off wanting to do what he wanted. The less interaction she had with the man the better. She certainly did not need bossing about.
‘As for that drangled Judge, ignore her. We’ll sort her out from this end. This business with these Hydrans should have been settled long ago. They are vermin. You only have to look at what they are doing. They’ve destroyed that planet and they are destroying themselves.’
Commander Grrndakegra did not need telling. She’d spent time scanning through the terrible footage of war and destruction. They were obviously a blight that required eradicating quickly before the disease spread. She really couldn’t see what Chameakegra saw in them. The last thing the Federation needed was a bunch of psychotic apes. She agreed with Beheggakegri even if he was an obnoxious cretin. He just needed to shut the drang up and allow her to get on with the job.
‘Make sure those Hydrans get what they deserve and that vecal fool is made to look the idiot she is,’ Beheggakegri insisted.
‘You can count on me. I’m on the case.’
When the link was broken Grrndakegra had to remain sitting calmly until her equanimity returned to normal and the colours had stopped flowing over her scutes. Beheggakegri always had that effect on her — how that piece of atrbus excrement had got to where he was remained a mystery. Still, there was a job to be done and she was relishing it. She had to put Beheggakegri out of her mind. He might be a pathetic blob of lard but his assessment of Chameakegra and the Hydrans seemed spot on. She did not need commands from the like of him.
‘Sang, please inform Beheggakegri that I have no intention of distancing myself from the fascinating experiment at Hydra. I am intrigued to see how this operation proceeds and feel that it has big implications for future judgements. – Judge Booghramakegra.’ Sang read the reply with a sense of dread. He puffed out his cheeks. Not something he had any desire to pass on to Beheggakegri, but he knew he had to.
The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books