The Cleansing – 50 – Chapter 28

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

Chapter 28 – The Judge

When a Judge says jump you fly.

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

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

‘Take a seat,’ Judge Booghramakegra said curtly.

Grrndakegra sat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Was that someone the Head of UFOR Beheggakegri?’

Again, that hesitation. ‘Yes.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grrndakegra’s integument was now doing rainbow impressions.

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

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

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

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

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

‘I have no idea,’ Grrndakegra blustered pathetically.

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

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

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

Grrndakegra nodded.

‘Please acknowledge your reply verbally for the record.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you!

The Cleansing – 46 – Chapter 25

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Chapter 25 – Experiences – Ups and Downs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I thought that was all complete?’

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

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

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

Ron turned to her with a shocked expression.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Can you tell us about your experience?’

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

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

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

So what happened?’

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

‘Where exactly?’

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

‘What about on the moon?’

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

‘What happened next?’

‘We were assigned rooms…’

‘What were they like?’

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

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

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

‘What happened next?’

‘After a while the treatment began.’

‘Treatment?’

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

‘How did it make you feel?’

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

‘How long did this last?’

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

‘And did it make you feel different?’

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

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

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

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

‘A lucrative career?’

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

‘But you did it?’

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

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

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

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

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

‘Do you feel terrible about it all now?’

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

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The Cleansing – 41 – Chapter 21

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A polite confrontation between two rivals with opposing views:

Chapter 21 – Changes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Try the synth,’ Chameakegra suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 40 – Chapter 20 continued

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It seems that the dirty tricks, political scheming and intrigue is almost as bad in aliens as it is in humans.

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With rising annoyance Grrndakegra flicked her communicator on. The image of Beheggakegri consolidated as she prepared herself for another infuriating session.

‘I thought we need to get our heads together to work out some tactics,’ Beheggakegri said in a far more conciliatory tone.

‘I’m open to ideas.’ Grrndakegra noted the more satisfactory blue scutes and lowered crest. Seemingly Beheggakegri was in a better mood.

‘We got some good evidence together out of that last protest action even if it didn’t quite produce the desired effect.’

‘So what do you want me to do? I’m promoting the dissent and enabling protest. I arranged the violence. I can’t do much more.’ Grrndakegra was still angry at the way she had been treated.

‘Well, more of that wouldn’t go amiss,’ Beheggakegri mused, ‘but I was thinking that we need to find a way of undermining Chameakegra.’

Grrndakegra stared at the image above his tridee. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Couldn’t we find a way to demonstrate that she is closely in cahoots with the Hydrans? That she is getting some personal gain?’

‘What profit can she possibly be making from an arrangement with the Hydrans?’

‘I don’t know,’ Beheggakegri seemed to be floating ideas, ‘maybe it would indicate some psychological character flaw that we can exploit. Perhaps she has a predisposition to enjoying violence or has developed some Hydran-like lust for possessions? Anything that would explain her obsession with these vermin?’

Grrndakegra considered Beheggakegri’s suggestions. Was there any mileage in anything like that? She thought not. But then…

The Cleansing – 39 – Chapter 20

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

Chapter 20 – Reactions

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

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

‘That alien stuff then?’

‘Probably. Nobody seems to know.’

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

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

‘They trying to buy us off?’

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

The door bell sounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlene was looking from one to the other.

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

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

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

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

Billy made a tight-lipped grimace.

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

‘If you think that…’

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

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

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

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

‘Are you really saying…’ Billy blustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy glowered at him. Charlene looked scared.

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

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

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

Billy made a silent sneer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 38 – Chapter 19 continued

Posted on by Opher

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

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

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

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

‘You look knackered, Ron.’

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

‘You need to look after myself.’

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

Liz looked worried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘So, what can you do?’

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

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

Ron looked thoughtful.

The Cleansing – 33 – Chapter 16 and into Chapter 17

Posted on by Opher

Addressing things such as populism and nationalism within the context of an alien invasion was an interesting challenge:

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

‘God, King and Country!’ Billy reminded the crowd outside Clacton Town Hall. ‘That’s what we stand for. They are stealing our country, kidnapping people right left and centre and undermining all our values. Who cares about pie in the sky?? We want our country back! WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK!!’

‘WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK!!’ the huge crowd roared back at him.

Grrndakegra watched the antics. She’d selected right. Billy Smythe could certainly rouse a crowd.

‘Incredible,’ Beheggakegri remarked. ‘Who would have believed it. These Hydrans are truly stupid.’

‘I’m not sure it’s just stupidity,’ Grrndakegra reflected. ‘They seem to have an ability to relate to things emotionally instead of rationally.’

‘That’s the definition of stupidity,’ Beheggakegri chortled.

Grrndakegra looked doubtful. ‘I’m not sure what it is. I think it stems back to some kind of tribal allegiance. It overrides logic. They attach themselves to an idea or person and remain loyal to it despite all the evidence.’

Beheggakegri looked baffled. ‘But they were given the whole proof of what those people had been up to. The corruption, greed and violence were laid bare and still they don’t believe it. They had the evidence!’ Beheggakegri looked genuinely nonplussed, his blue forked tongue licking over his scaly lips. He grudgingly shook his head at Grrndakegra in open admiration. ‘That was masterly.’

Grrndakegra couldn’t help feeling a burst of pride. Yes it had been masterly. ‘Easy really,’ she replied modestly. ‘Put out enough stuff contradicting and undermining, foster a climate of distrust, shout conspiracy and fake news loud enough and often enough and you can undermine anything. These Hydrans are remarkably gullible.’

‘I didn’t think it was possible,’ Beheggakegri beamed admiringly. He was so pleased that, even though it went against his nature, he couldn’t help displaying it. ‘When Chameakegra put out all the material that Neff had gathered I thought our glibwort was barbequed.’

‘So did I, so did I,’ Grrndakegra chuckled, ‘but,’ and her mood darkened, ‘we’re not out of the woods yet.’

‘No, indeed,’ Beheggakegri replied. The thoughts of the lunar base and those camps loomed up in his head. ‘But I think we’ve covered our scutes.’

‘I hope so.’

Chapter 17 – Protest

Clacton, despite its ancient history did not have many old buildings to boast of. Apart from a couple of old churches and the pier there was not a lot to attract people to the small seaside town. The population is predominantly a monoculture with a large percentage of white unemployed and single parent families along with a multitude of grey-haired retirees, which rather explains its support for populist politicians and anti-immigrant policies. A walk along the front meant dodging an armada of mobility scooters, having to squint in the dazzling light bouncing off glossy bald heads and trying to walk round waddling blubbery girls pushing pushchairs while trying not to trip over their false eyelashes and gossiping on their mobiles.

On the face of it not an ideal site to place a large detention centre as it was almost certain to stir up local resistance, but perhaps an exceedingly good place to hold a rally against the alien invasion. The local populace were staunchly patriotic, to the point of being nationalistic. If you were talking ‘British Values’, whatever they were, this was the place to go.

Even before the alien invasion every pub, coffee house and queue was a hotbed of gossip concerning how our values were being eroded by bloody immigrants. Now, the immigrants from another star system were truly taking over and those ‘British Values’ were in the process of being discarded altogether. It might appear that the new ‘Universal Values’ of equality, tolerance, empathy, compassion and respect were not very different from the ‘British Values’ that people claimed to espouse. Though, from the heated discussions all over town it was apparent that supporting a set of values associated with your country and cultural and having similar values foisted on us by outsiders were two distinctly different things.

Clacton had been lucky with the weather. A warm sunny day showed off the large paved square overlooked by its two hundred year-old hotel to good effect. The refurbished Royal Hotel made an excellent backdrop combining Victorian charm with modern convenience. The surrounding shops and cafes were looking forward to the event and were hoping to make a killing. The water jets themselves were turned off but by the time the event got underway, with the sun beating down, there would be many who would wish that they’d been left on.

The stage was set early in the morning. A pall of expectation hung in the air. A few children were playing in the square wishing and forlornly hoping that the water jets would start up. The locals, mainly those pensioners and mothers with toddlers in pushchairs, sat around on the seats expectantly waiting for something to start up. Not much ever happened around here. This protest was the biggest thing that had ever happened in years. You could taste the excitement. The square hummed with the chatter of locals with a few buskers already setting up their pitches and rehearsing for when the crowds finally arrived. The locals were waiting, not wanting to miss a second of it.

All through that morning the special coaches and trains flowed into that ancient market town. Clacton hadn’t seen the like of it for many a year. Electricity sang in the air as the crowds rapidly started to grow and the newcomers, all dolled out in their union jacks, flags of St George and assorted regalia gathered in knots discussing what was about to take place. They did not quite know what to do about the cosmopolitan contingents who had flown in from around the world. That was confusing. But they were all united in their opposition to the lizards.

The excitement mounted by the second. They weren’t coming for a day out at the arcades on the pier or strolls along the sandy beaches. They were coming for Billy Smythe. They were coming because the alien lizards were stealing their land; the land they paid homage to. They were angry and were looking to vent their fury. They came with their banners, their flags of St. George and their union jacks to make a statement. They weren’t going to roll over and give away their country. They were going to fight for it.

 Some were even dressed as crusaders ready for battle; some wore full costumes made of their flags. They were ready for battle. As they marched from the train and bus station they chanted:

Out, lizards, out! 

Hear us all shout! 

Out, lizards, out! 

We are British, loud and clear,  
We are British, WE ARE HERE!

Out, lizards, out! 

Hear us all shout! 

Out, lizards, out! 

Country back!  
Country back!  
We want our country back! 

Out, lizards, out! 

Hear us all shout! 

Out, lizards, out! 

Tens of thousands of them snaked through the main street. It seemed as if the whole 53,000 inhabitants had come out to either cheer them on or gawp.  The large stage that had been erected in fountain square in front of the hotel was the focal point and was equipped with a powerful PA. The rumour was that Tommy Robinson was going to speak. Others said Nigel Farage. The two of them seemed to have abandoned their hatred of Muslims and immigrants to focus on alien lizards.

‘More money in it,’ Charly had cynically remarked, scathing of Farage and Robinson who she viewed as opportunists. She found that she had mixed feelings about a number of things as Billy prepared for his big day, but she let them slide. There was something about Farage and Robinson that stuck in her craw. She didn’t like the way they had jumped on the bandwagon. For the most part she kept her thoughts to herself. She agreed with what Billy was doing and was greatly impressed by his rise to prominence. That filled her with pride. The immigrants and aliens both needed dealing with but hypocritical politicians jumping on the bandwagon sickened her. She didn’t want her Billy associated with people she regarded as scum.

They had come down to Clacton the day before. Billy’s unidentified benefactor having provided a luxury suite in the hotel complete with banquet. It felt like being on honeymoon.

On the day neither Farage nor Robinson showed but that didn’t matter. The crowd were content with Billy Smythe. Denby, Cheryl, John, Kathy, Foxy and Debbie had all made the journey down to support their Billy. They took the piss out of him unmercifully but he took it well. He knew they were immensely proud of him.

A few local dignitaries took to the stage to welcome them to Clacton. The dignitaries went down like a bag of sick. The crowd obviously identified them with the reactionary windbags of old. But when Billy took to the stage the crowd went wild.

‘Wow!’ Billy said from the wings, prior to the event, surveying the enormous sea of faces. The square was packed and still people were arriving down the various streets converging on the square. Everywhere was awash with flags like a great field of red and white sunflowers.

When the moment came Billy strode the stage like a veteran showing no signs of nerves. He told the crowd just what they wanted to hear. ‘We have been invaded!! They are trying to destroy our culture – what do we say to that?’

The crowd told him exactly what they said to that. They wanted the alien lizards out! And they expressed that in no uncertain terms: ‘FUCK THE LIZARDS! FUCK THE LIZARDS!’

‘They’re trying to impose foreign control on us! The think that having a global government will solve all our problems. I say their idea of unity is nothing less than tyranny!’

‘FUCK THE LIZARDS! FUCK THE LIZARDS!’

‘They tell us that they are revamping our education system. That they are transforming our schools. Setting up propaganda machines more like! Brainwashing our kids!’

‘FUCK THE LIZARDS! FUCK THE LIZARDS!’

‘They’ve taken our military apart and think we are helpless. They think we are helpless. I ask you – ARE WE HELPLESS??’

‘FUCK THE LIZARDS! FUCK THE LIZARDS!’

By the time Billy had finished winding them up they were ready to tear the lizards apart with their bare hands.

‘Let’s go to the camp and show them that we don’t want them or their ideas here! We’re British! This is our country! We want our country back!’

‘FUCK THE LIZARDS! FUCK THE LIZARDS!’

‘WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK!’

The news was dominated by the massive protest.

The Cleansing – 25 – Chapter 11

Posted on by Opher

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?

The Cleansing – 23 – Chapter 9

Posted on by Opher

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.

The Cleansing – 22 – Chapter 8 continued

Posted on by Opher

Even among superior aliens there is political intrigue and emotional dislike, vying for position and ignoring rules and laws. Even with a benevolent take-over of a planet there is an inevitable backlash and populism is not logical.:

‘We are working with your scientists and technologists to improve your knowledge and understanding so that your horizons can be greatly increased.’ She did not add that this knowledge would be restricted until such time as the species were considered worthy. ‘This will have a huge impact on all walks of life, from energy production, transport and infrastructure, to your appreciation of the universe and how it operates.’

She peered out of their screens with a severe frown and green hue of displeasure. ‘You as a race have badly damaged the ecosystems that create stability in the planet, replenish air, water and soil, and ultimately enable all life to prosper. It is an ecosystem that has been billions of years in the making. Nature is not something apart from yourselves as your modern urban lives seem to suggest; it is a vital element in all your existence. Nature nurtures everything. You are part of it and dependent on it. It cannot be allowed to disintegrate. Even if you could live by artificially producing the necessary elements to live, your lives would lack a vital spiritual ingredient that would prevent you from being whole and living a satisfying life’. Her eyes shone with revolutionary zeal. ‘We will restore your ecosystems. For a while stretches of habitat will be protected and all Hydrans will be excluded from those zones to enable the food webs to rebuild. We will aide that recovery.’

Her face softened.

‘As part of this process we will enable new clean energy production technologies and non-polluting mechanisms to upgrade your industries. This will produce a revolution in manufacturing that will benefit all while also protecting your planet.’

Chameakegra drew herself erect and raised her crest, her scales a shimmering effervescence of blue satisfaction and gold authority. She seemed to speak directly to each and every one of them.

‘Fellow humans, we are poised at the edge of a new future, one that is congenial and prosperous for everyone. By the time we leave you there will be a new age, a new future and better life for everyone. We will go forward together.’

The picture faded away to pleasant views of meadows, sunrises and animal life, families playing in the midst of beauty, majestic landscapes and beautiful scenes; all carefully selected to create a positive vibe.

Grrndakegra’s leering face appeared hovering over her tridee messaging. ‘Another masterpiece,’ she remarked jeeringly. ‘I’m sure that’ll help pacify the brutes, make my job a lot easier. Much more of that and we’ll have all the fugitives handing themselves in for reprogramming.’

‘How’s the round up progressing?’ Chameakegra replied, ignoring the sarcasm.

‘Very well,’ Grrndakegra replied, looking smug.  ‘We’re doing a great job. We’ve now run down ninety-five percent of the despicables. We’re hunting down the rest and are winkling them out of the holes they’ve secreted themselves into. My troopers are getting good at extracting them. We’ve had to deal with a number of conspirators who were deliberately helping the fugitives escape. Perhaps you could have a word with your Hydrans about not hampering the cause, or getting in the way of the operation. After all, you could tell them that handing in the criminals is for the greater good. I’m sure they’ll all take notice of you.’ She chuckled mockingly. ‘Failing that you could warn them that we’ll add them to the list. That might do it.’

Chameakegra thought it best not to enquire too much about what was happening to the conspirators. Presumably they were already being added to the lists of those in need of adjustment for their antisocial ways.

‘How are the camps?’

‘Overcrowded, but we’re cramming them in,’ Grrndakegra replied jovially. ‘Always room for a few more.’

‘I hope to get the Lunar facilities completed soon then be can begin work on housing them properly and rehabilitating them,’ Chameakegra said, still attempting to treat Grrndakegra cordially as if she was trying as hard to get things right as she was.

‘I wouldn’t shut down your respiratory tract,’ Grrndakegra grinned, ignoring the question posed. ‘From what I’ve seen most of these dranglers they are well beyond rehabilitation.’

Chameakegra repressed a shudder. Were they on the same team?

‘We’ll see,’ she replied, trying to appear matter-of-fact and unflustered.

‘While you’re at it, I can see the value in painting an idyllic future for these dranglers but from where I am sitting I’m not seeing it. It appears to me just as Beheggakegri called it, these dranglers are a bunch of violent psychotics. It’s genetic. They can’t be cured. In my opinion they need eradicating and put an end to all this nonsense.’

‘Well thanks for your opinion,’ Chameakegra said coldly before breaking the connection.

‘That lizard’s got a great voice,’ Debbie remarked. ‘She speaks perfectly. How has she learnt English so quick?’

‘I bet it’s all done by technology,’ Denby suggested cynically. ‘I bet if you were to go to any other part of the world you’d hear it speaking in the local dialect.’

‘You reckon?’ Debbie replied, looking amazed. ‘I was wondering how that blue forked tongue and hard scaly lips could form words so perfectly.’

‘Did you hear what the fucking reptile said,’ Billy snarled. ‘She’s not only taking our fucking country off us, she’s banning us from going on our own fucking planet!’

Debbie looked confused.

‘All that shyte about allowing nature to repair so we’re not allowed to go places,’ Billy snarled. ‘Banned by a bunch of scabby lizards from going where we want in our own bleedin’ gaffe!’

‘I quite liked some of it,’ John muttered. ‘Sharing that technology and making life better. Perhaps they will make a difference?’

Billy and Denby both fixed him with withering stares.

‘The world is in a bit of a mess,’ Debbie remarked in a feeble voice, not wanting to bring their wrath down on herself.

‘What’s all that fucking shyte about putting this fucking dimwit writer, Ron Force or whatever his fucking name is, in charge? What the fuck does he know about running the world?’

‘Can’t do a worse job than the bunch we’ve just had in,’ Foxy quipped.

‘He’ll be running nowt,’ Denby asserted. ‘He’s just a face, a puppet. Those lizards’ll be pulling the strings.’

‘Right on,’ Billy nodding his agreement.

‘Well I like the idea of taking the money from the military and bunging it into schools,’ Cheryl asserted, glaring defiantly at Denby, daring him to turn on her. ‘About time the kids got a better deal.’

‘Bloody indoctrination centres, more like,’ Billy didn’t hold back with his glares. ‘They want to indoctrinate them, that’s all. It’s not about fucking education.’

‘If they overhaul production and make it more efficient that might bung a bit more in my pay packet,’ Foxy remarked cheerfully. ‘I could do with enough for a week or two on the Costa Brava.’

‘I for one aren’t going to be pushed around by a bunch of alien lizards,’ Billy asserted vehemently. ‘Just wait until that meeting this evening. I’ll tell it like it is?’

‘Your task will be to bring them together, to create a global community,’ Chameakegra explained. ‘You have to engineer building a society based on fairness and equality, one that works for everyone.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Ron looked aghast. The longer this went on the greater his suspension of belief. ‘Fucking Ada. That’s all? What am I meant to do in the afternoon?’

‘I have received your report,’ Beheggakegri’s image hovered above Grrndakegra’s tridee receiver looking suitably smug. ‘Good stuff. Do your best. This Hydran rehabilitation scheme looks like a recipe for disaster. Your troopers are doing a great job. I’ve been watching the Hydrans on their communications systems. They are becoming more and more irate. The camps are working too. Put a bunch of psychos together, pack them in and they’re bound to feed off each other. Before long they’ll be big trouble.’ He chuckled, scutes flashing blue with pleasure. ‘See if you can’t find a way of delaying those lunar facilities. The longer we have them cramped up in the camps the better. And tell the troopers to be even rougher when they drag them out. It would be good if we can inflame the families and lookers on. Make sure that the most troublesome, violent arrests find their way on to their communication networks. That’ll stir them up.’

Grrndakegra nodded assent, as if she needed telling how to do her job.

‘Make sure that your abduction teams steer well clear of the resistance groups,’ Beheggakegri added. ‘We don’t want any of them getting picked up. If possible we need to allow all that protest to ferment, some more widespread scenes of violence would play into our hands. You could try funding more of those prehistoric thugs that you used at the protests. They really created mayhem.’ Beheggakegri was obviously delighting in all this. His whole demeanour was glowing.

Grrndakegra watched the obese Dref flicking dainties into his buccal cavity with disdain verging on repulsion. He so obviously relished the thought of the Hydrans fighting but was enjoying the thought of Chameakegra’s downfall even more. It was easy to see that Beheggakegri totally despised the Giforian Commander. This business left Grrndakegra feeling disgruntled. That Dref Beheggakegri was incredibly annoying, giving out his instructions like this. She didn’t need telling.

‘I have slowed things down on the lunar facilities,’ Grrndakegra explained with a touch of exasperation. ‘Didn’t take much. I had a word or two with the Minorian in charge. We exchanged a few scenarios. He rapidly came round to my point of view, particularly when I informed him that you were on the case.’

Beheggakegri found that amusing.

‘So, the lunar facilities won’t be available for a long while yet. The camps are as full as a Breffta’s crop and the Hydrans are becoming feisty. We’ll see how lady Chameakegra copes with that. Keep up the good work Grrndakegra.’

‘I’ve already employed more provocateurs and am funding various media agitators, really stirring up the division and hate. That’ll all pay off. My troops have been instructed to leave our agitators alone. I have it all in claws.’ Grrndakegra wanted her obese boss to know that he certainly did not need to keep checking up on her.

Beheggakegri seemed suitably impressed.

Grrndakegra flicked off and stared at the space where Beheggakegri’s obscenely obese form had been. She felt like spraying the tridee with disinfectant.