The Cleansing – 52 – Chapter 30

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The alien downfall of corruption and end of the human false hope of populism.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Go on, give it a try!

Chapter 30 – It’s over

The major irony was that the case was being tried in the UFOR headquarters, Beheggakegri’s own back yard.

Judge Booghramakegra presided. The case did not last long.

First Grrndakegra gave evidence, claiming that Beheggakegri had employed her to disrupt Commander Chameakegra’s experiment, disgrace her and bring about the demise of the Hydrans.

Beheggakegri denied it all but Grrndakegra was able to produce the time-stamped messages. That proved conclusive that she was being ordered and manipulated.

Even at that stage there was probably sufficient evidence to convict, but there was more. The members of the committee added their weight to the proceedings with their subjective negative views of Beheggakegri’s performance and his perceived vendetta against Commander Chameakegra. While lacking in the objectivity to be treated as real evidence the similarities in the testimony were sufficient to discredit him.

The conclusive and most damning piece of evidence came from an unexpected source. Ollyx Ce Frolli, the Xerc repair man came forward to provide recordings of Beheggakegri applying pressure on him to deliberately sabotage Chameakegra’s quantum drive – an action that might well have proved fatal for not only Chameakegra but the entire crew of the shuttle. The fact that the scheme was never implemented was irrelevant. The fact that Beheggakegri had even contemplated such an action was sufficient.

The verdict was a foregone conclusion. What happened next was up to Gestor’s chief legislator.

The fall-out from Billy Smythe’s podcast was immense. It split the protest movement into two distinct camps mirrored in the Ashly Arms group of friends.

‘They put you up to that, didn’t they?’ Denby remarked accusingly, sipping his pint and glaring over the top at Billy.

‘No way,’ Billy protested in a lacklustre manner. ‘There are just times when you have to face reality.’

Everybody was staring at him. His turnaround had been quite dramatic. Nobody was really sure what had happened. Had he been altered? Mind blanked? Adjusted?

‘Tell us about it,’ Debbie urged, sipping her gin and tonic.

Billy looked around at them all. He could see the sense of betrayal registering on some faces. ‘Look, it’s not really like that,’ he said rather lamely. Since the podcast he’d been quite deflated. All the bolshiness had evaporated. His fall from grace had been dramatic. One minute he was the poster boy for a whole movement and the next he was being pilloried from post to post, credibility shot to pieces. That was hard for an ego to take. He’d withdrawn into himself.

‘Go on,’ Charly urged. ‘Tell them the whole story.’

Billy looked from one to the other. He could see that he was going to have to go through the whole thing. They weren’t going to allow him to get away with anything. ‘OK,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll tell you what really happened.’

‘It started with that Ron Forsythe and that alien lizard Chameakegra. They more or less forced me to go with them.’

Charlene nodded. She’d been there. She’d witnessed it. ‘Yep, Billy got all feisty and they threatened him.’

Billy flashed her a little smile.

‘So anyway, they take me up in this shuttle. It was scary. I didn’t know where we were going. I thought they might bump me off or wipe my brain or something.’

Denby and Cheryl both looked as if that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing but at least some of the others looked sympathetic.

‘First they take me to their spacecraft, the Neff.’ Billy looked down into his pint as if recalling the scene before looking round at them. ‘I tell you it was enormous. A whole bloody city. I’d never seen anything as massive as that.’ He shook his head and puffed his cheeks. ‘Gigantic. Then they took me inside and showed me the operation they’d been carrying out, assessing us all. It was unbelievable.’

‘They didn’t try anything weird, did they?’ Foxy asked with a big grin. ‘You know, probes up the backside and stuff.’

Kathy punched him on the arm.

‘That’s what these aliens do,’ Foxy protested, rubbing his arm. ‘I’d have changed my mind pretty quick if they showed me a giant probe or two.’

Billy ignored him. ‘Well, that was pretty deflating I can tell you. It gave me a real picture of what we were really up against.’

‘It’s a matter of principle,’ Denby insisted, still glaring at Billy.

‘Did they threaten you?’ John asked.

Billy turned to face John. ‘No. At least not directly.’

‘Not, fucking directly,’ Denby laughed ironically.

Billy flicked him an irritated frown before going on. ‘That was scary enough. But then they took me back in the shuttle and showed me this other gigantic space craft. That was Grrndakegra’s the lizard who’s behind all the abductions.’ He glanced round again, holding his pint in both hands but not drinking. ‘They explained that Grrndakegra and others wanted to wipe us out; that that ship was packed with troopers.’

‘I knew it,’ Denby said, throwing up a hand in disgust. ‘They were trying to put the frighteners on you and you fell for it.’

Billy looked tight-lipped. He glared at Denby. ‘No Denby, it’s not as simple as that. I had to make a decision on who to believe.’ He took a big swig to give himself time.

‘I thought that we could protest and somehow get those lizards to magically go away,’ he looked glum. ‘I realised out there in space that that was never going to happen. We were wasting our time.’

‘Principles,’ Denby muttered sullenly again with a disgusted expression on his face.

‘Well, fucking principles get people killed!’ Billy retorted, showing some fire. ‘It’s easy for you to sneer Denby. You weren’t there having to make decisions.’

Charly put a hand on his arm and he calmed down.

‘So anyway, Ron and this alien Commander took me back to Ron’s office in New York.’ He glanced round again. ‘Now I had a better idea of what we were up against. So, they lead me through what has been going on. How we were being assessed and if they found us too violent they’d do away with us. They showed me images of other exterminations. I tell you, it was horrendous. It was real,’ he looked round imploringly at the group. ‘They really would have done away with us.’

‘And you believed them,’ Denby said caustically.

Billy rounded on Denby. ‘Yes I believed them. Right! I believed them. I could see that they had the power to do what they liked. There was nothing we could do about it. Besides, what did they have to gain from lying?’

‘Apart from us rolling over and making it easy for them,’ Cheryl piped in.

‘You have no idea,’ Billy shook his head and gave her a dirty look. ‘No idea. They don’t need us to roll over. They can do what they like with or without our consent.’

‘Go on,’ John said, listening intently.

‘So anyway, this Commander Chameakegra is in charge and she’s organised this experiment to see if we can’t be changed into something better, something worthy of being taken in to the Federation.’

‘I quite like things as they are,’ Denby remarked, taking another swig and glowering at Billy.

‘Oh,’ Billy directed his scathing reply at Denby, ‘we’re doing so great aren’t we? What with wars all over the place. Half the fucking world starving, global warming and fucking Trump and Musk creaming off the top!’

‘Didn’t say it was perfect,’ Denby replied, meeting his glare defiantly. ‘But at least we are governing ourselves.’

‘No we’re not,’ John stated bluntly. ‘We only appear to be running things ourselves. It’s a sham. You know it as well as I do. It’s all rigged. It’s Trump and Musk who are calling all the shots. Our votes count for nothing.’

All eyes were on him.

‘Come on,’ John said with a nod of exasperation, siding with Billy, ‘we can all see that it’s the rich bastards who are running things. We get to vote for the lesser of two evils and it always comes out that the greedy bastards like Musk get to make more money while we scrape by.’ He took a sip of lager. ‘I for one would like to see what the lizards can do.’

Billy nodded a thanks and cooled down a peg or two. ‘Well, Ron and Chameakegra showed me all these plans – the energy, infrastructure, schools and a much fairer society.’ He nodded to John. ‘It looked pretty good to me. They took me round some of the new developments, power plants and schools.’ He put his pint down and raised both hands. ‘They’re not just saying it; they’re doing it.’

John and Debbie nodded agreement but Denby looked as dark as thunder. ‘So now you’re campaigning on behalf of the lizards?’

‘No,’ Billy protested, ‘No. That’s not how it is. I could see that all this protest is pointless. It won’t get us anywhere.’ He became agitated again. ‘If they are right it could be dangerous. They could decide we are too violent and not worth saving.’

‘If they are right,’ Denby sneered.

John rounded on Denby, eyes flashing. ‘What have we got to lose?’

‘Why take a risk?’ Kathy said with a nervous twitch.

‘The test of the pudding will be in the eating,’ Debbie remarked.

Everybody supped, deep in their own thoughts.

‘Drink up,’ Foxy said, ‘my round.’

The Cleansing – 51 – Chapter 29

Posted on by Opher

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

Chapter 29 – The interruption

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

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

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

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

 Judge Booghramakegra strode into the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here Billy looked apprehensive.

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

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

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

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

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

Billy’s face faded.

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

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

‘It’ll do,’ Chameakegra murmured.

The Cleansing – 49 – Chapter 27

Posted on by Opher

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Chapter 27 – Repercussions

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

Chameakegra looked at Ron.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Billlyyyy…’ Charlene pleaded.

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

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

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

The Hydran experiment was to be terminated immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 48 – Chapter 26

Posted on by Opher

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement) eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

In the aftermath of the march with all its violence and bloodshed, the human President and alien Commander are gloomily discussing if there is anything they could have done. The alien judge points out that the violence was orchestrated by the populist politicians. It had been deliberate.

Chapter 26 – Grim Reality

The mood was gloomy as showers of rain swept the London streets clean of gore. The clean-up crews were out in force, boarding up windows, dousing smoking embers and sweeping up the glass and debris. Burnt out cars were being towed away and the police and stewards were licking their wounds.

Fifty-eight dead – mainly from crushing. It could have been a lot worse.

Ron and Chameakegra were morosely reviewing the aftermath. It was no use pretending that it was not too bad, that it could have been worse. This was every bit as bad as they could have imagined in their worst nightmares – the sight of such hate-filled faces, open mouths and unleashed fury – the blood and death – the hate and pillaging. It could not have been worse.

‘Where do we go from here?’ Ron asked, looking for guidance from the large Giforian Commander.

Chameakegra seemed to have slumped into a swamp of despair, her scutes a dark black. She shook her head. This outburst of violence had undone all the good they had worked so hard on. Just as the infrastructure projects were beginning to bear fruit, the education changes were bedding in and the first batches of abducted were returning with positive outcomes, this had to happen. It was no good looking to throw any blame on Grrndakegra for the heavy-handed ending of the riots; the riots should never have happened in the first place.

Both Ron and Chameakegra were full of recriminations. Could they have stopped it? Should the march have been banned?

Chameakegra racked her brain. Grrndakegra had been adamant – a safety valve. Well that safety valve had failed to prevent a full-blooded explosion. This had gone nuclear and it was out there for all to see. Plain as a supernova, these Hydrans could not be trusted; they were every bit as bad as Beheggakegri made them out to be – crazy, psychotic apes, completely incapable of being fully civilised, not worthy of being admitted into the Federation. Even she had to finally admit that.

The experiment was over.

‘I never even got to speak.’

‘You stupid great fucking lunk!’ Charlene raged. ‘Look at what you’ve fucking done!’

‘It’s not my fault,’ Billy protested irritably. ‘We had to make our voices heard.’ He was adamant.

Charlene was distraught. What if Ron was right? What if they decided that this was the end and decided to wipe everyone off the face of the planet?

What had Billy gone and done?

Judge Booghramakegra stomped through the portal into the atrium on Neff. Commander Chameakegra had been summoned. Ron stood crestfallen to one side. This was it. He could tell from Chameakegra’s sunken crest and ebony black scutes that it was over. This judge was coming to wrap things up. They had failed.

Judge Booghramakegra stood fuming within the great H-craft and haughtily ignored the welcoming committee. Her entire integument was white with anger. Not a word came out. She glared at Commander Chameakegra and Ron, who visibly shrank into himself at the ferocity of her glare, wanting to melt into the wall. A white Giforian with fully raised crest was a terrifying sight for anyone to witness. Ron wanted this fiasco over as quickly as possible but it looked as if they were both going to have to pay. Judge Booghramakegra was here to deliver vengeance in person. Who could blame her? She’d been badly let down. Ron felt distraught as if he was personally to blame. He should never have sanctioned that protest march on the capital.

With barely a glance at anyone the judge strode purposefully past the senior crew gathered there to greet her.

Ron threw Chameakegra a frightened distressed glance before the two of them trailed in her wake.

Judge Booghramakegra knew exactly where she was heading and they had to scurry to keep up. Arriving at Commander Chameakegra’s private quarters she stormed in without waiting to be asked, the portal barely having time to dilate. Chameakegra followed her in and Ron took a deep breath before plunging through the portal. This was it – the final reckoning.

Inside the judge had already ensconced herself at Chameakegra’s mense and was busy concentrating on engaging the comulator. Only when she had linked in the tridee and brought up the files she was after did she finally turn to face the two of them. They stood like naughty schoolchildren in front of the Headteacher waiting for the inevitable.

‘What the drangling hell are you playing at?’ She directed her fire on Chameakegra. The anger in her voice was hot enough to melt lead.

Ron took up a position behind the Giforian Commander. ‘We did our best,’ Chameakegra explained lamely. ‘It appeared to be going well.’ Her multi-coloured scutes clearly displayed her anguish. ‘We thought it was bearing fruit. The infrastructure, the education programme, the rehabilitation. It was all proceeding nicely. We underestimated the depth of Hydran flaws. They are intrinsically violent. It was probably a mistake from the very start. Beheggakegri was right.’

Judge Booghramakegra turned bright green in disgust and outrage. She waggled her crest in impotent frustration.

Ron was just glad that he had the large body of the Giforian Commander between him and the incandescent Judge. His body felt like jelly.

‘I thought you were meant to be a highly competent commander!’

There was nothing that could be said. Ron watched as the ebony colour in Chameakegra’s scutes impossibly deepened. Chameakegra was suffering a unique embarrassment. Everything she had bet her career on had crumbled before her eyes. This was the ultimate humiliation. The Hydrans had proved themselves unworthy. Grrndakegra would shortly be engaged to finish the job. She had let Judge Booghramakegra down. Her career was in ruins. Her reputation impossibly tarnished. She lamely waited for the sword to descend.

Ron watched in horror. In his head he could see the whole scenario playing out. Grrndakegra and her Giforian troops would soon swoop down and that was it. Humanity was doomed. The judgement was over. The brief reprieve had come to a premature end. He had only himself to blame. He should have found a way to deal with Billy Smythe and ban that stupid ‘Freedom March’. He had known it would end in disaster. That was obvious to a fool. All that talk of safety valves was bollocks. He was personally to blame. Judge Booghramakegra was right. He felt embarrassed to be human. They were a disaster of a race.

Judge Booghramakegra was here to deliver the coup de grace. It was over.

The judge cast a withering glare in Ron’s direction before returning her attention to the Giforian Commander. ‘You are an utter fool!’ she snarled. ‘Watch this.’

We stood there like prize idiots as the judge brought up the excruciating images of the terrible rioting. We watched the horrific scenes unfurl with sinking hearts. This was really rubbing it in. Why couldn’t she just make the pronouncement and get it over with? Why put us through this? They both knew the extent of the horror. They’d watched it a hundred times.

‘What do you see?’ she demanded angrily, scutes flaring green. She glared at Ron first.

‘I see the terrible rioting,’ Ron stammered.

Judge Booghramakegra shook her head in despair and turned her vitriolic gaze back to Chameakegra. Ron felt sorry for the chastened Commander. He had let her down. She had gone out on a limb for them, now she was being eviscerated in front of him.

‘I know,’ Chameakegra said firmly, pulling herself into an upright stance with defiant crest and as much decorum as she could muster, her scutes an apologetic yellow. ‘I should have been more objective. I should have realised what their true nature was. I had enough warnings. The flaws run too deep. They are beyond redemption.’

Judge Booghramakegra snorted with deep displeasure and glared. ‘Idiot – look again! Don’t you see what I see?’

They watched again as the horrendous rioting took place. The familiar violent scenes were utterly depressing.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Chameakegra mumbled, staring at the images above the tridee set. ‘It’s just terrible.’

Judge Booghramakegra expelled a lungful of air. ‘I despair of the two of you. Can’t you see? Are you both utter imbeciles?’

The pair of them studied the images of violence and fury completely at a loss to understand what else they could possibly be expected to see. It was awful. Full stop.

‘You fools,’ Judge Booghramakegra muttered, grim-faced, scutes bright yellow. ‘It is obvious, as plain as can be. Look here.’ She indicated a group of balaclavaed youths hurling rocks at the heads of people in the crush. ‘And here,’ more balaclavaed youths smashing in windows. ‘And here,’ another group of balaclavaed youths attacking a line of police. ‘Now what do you see?’

Chameakegra glanced at Ron. ‘I see Hydrans venting their rage in horrendous acts of violence.’

Judge Booghramakegra turned green with disgust. ‘You are both idiots? Look again.’ She flicked through scene after scene. ‘Now what do you see?’

Chameakegra was as totally befuddled as Ron. ‘I see gratuitous violence.’

‘No,’ Judge Booghramakegra replied with an air of exasperation, ‘what you are seeing is an orchestrated campaign. Those violent thugs, the ones with the similar face masks, have been hired to do the dirty work. You have been set up, taken for fools. Someone has deliberately used that demonstration to create a violent disorder. Someone wants the Hydrans disposed of and wants to bring you down. Isn’t that obvious?’

Chameakegra turned to Ron an expression of realisation lighting up their faces as if the sun had just emerged from behind a cloud.

The Cleansing – 47 – Chapter 25 (continued)

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Collaboration between Aliens and humans:

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

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

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

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

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

A flicker of hope raised its head.

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

‘Out Dragons Out!

‘Out Dragons Out’.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beheggakegri received the visual reports.

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

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

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

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

Let the committee contact him and request they reconvene.

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

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The Cleansing – 46 – Chapter 25

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Chapter 25 – Experiences – Ups and Downs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I thought that was all complete?’

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

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

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

Ron turned to her with a shocked expression.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Can you tell us about your experience?’

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

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

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

So what happened?’

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

‘Where exactly?’

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

‘What about on the moon?’

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

‘What happened next?’

‘We were assigned rooms…’

‘What were they like?’

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

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

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

‘What happened next?’

‘After a while the treatment began.’

‘Treatment?’

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

‘How did it make you feel?’

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

‘How long did this last?’

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

‘And did it make you feel different?’

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

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

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

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

‘A lucrative career?’

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

‘But you did it?’

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

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

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

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

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

‘Do you feel terrible about it all now?’

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

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The Cleansing – 44 – Chapter 23

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

Chapter 23 – Action

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

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

The tension was palpable.

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

He sat bolt upright. His brain was whirling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy chewed briefly and swallowed. ‘Oh him.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 43 – Chapter 22

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Doubts and challenges beset the aliens.

Chapter 22 – Musings

Grrndakegra had been told that Chameakegra was a dangerous eccentric who had a few synapses short of a network. Beheggakegri had portrayed her as a maverick fool who had no regard for the process that had kept the Federation safe for hundreds of years. He had depicted the Hydrans as worthless space excrement that required disposing of.

Now Grrndakegra wasn’t quite so sure. She’d been brought in to do a job on both Chameakegra and the Hydrans. Beheggakegri knew she was a stickler for the rules and would do his bidding.

His evening with Chameakegra had left her feeling confused. They were never going to be friends. That was certain. They hadn’t bonded. She found Chameakegra strange. As Beheggakegri had suggested; she was an eccentric. She was a complete maverick too. That was also certain. She hadn’t followed the process, but did that mean she did not believe in the process or was looking to undermine the Federation, as Beheggakegri had indicated? She hadn’t picked up a scent of that. Chameakegra certainly had a different way of working, that was for sure – but she seemed to want the same outcome – a thorough assessment. She couldn’t make her out: she just seemed to have fallen under the spell of Hydran culture which was downright peculiar. But had she learnt anything from the evening that she could use against her? That was questionable.

As for the Hydrans; Beheggakegri had been adamant that they were crying out to be exterminated and Grrndakegra had completely agreed. What she’d seen of them completely backed up Beheggakegri’s assessment. They were everything he’d called them – violent greedy space rats.

That evening of being exposed to the creative side of Hydrans had affected her. Grrndakegra knew that she did not have a single scute that was sensitive to aesthetic awareness. She could not appreciate a masterpiece of a work of art if it came to life and bit her on the tail. But that did not mean that she couldn’t see that others might find certain creations life-affirming. She wasn’t as much of a Philistine to believe that, just because she could not appreciate it, all art had no value. She could at least appreciate that Hydrans did have a rich culture.

Chameakegra had shared the entire gamut of Hydran culture with her and she’d pretty well hated every moment of it – apart from a few things. That whiskey had tasted vile but she’d acquired a little bit of a taste for it. She liked the way it burnt her palate and sent her taste buds crazy. She’d even gone and commandeered a few different bottles of it. There were a lot of subtle nuances of flavour in amongst that first fiery explosion. Certain of the rhythmic noises that Hydrans called music were interesting. She’d found her body jerking around to it. Not that she’d procure any of it. As for the rest; well, she could not find anything good to say – daubings of colour on canvas, anybody could do that – she could ask Quorma to produce artworks that were more pleasing than anything she’d seen the Hydrans come up with. Still – they had a child-like quality that was vaguely interesting. Hydrans did have another side to them. She could see that the spoken word and stories were interesting for some but she found them boring, she couldn’t see the point of any of the sport and while it was interesting to see the way the Hydrans performed complex steps and contorted their bodies into unnatural shapes the dancing just seemed bizarre – either stylised coitus, weird rhythmic moves or peculiar poses. She could not see any purpose for it. Chameakegra had failed to sell it to her even if it had tweaked her interest the tiniest bit.

That wasn’t to suggest that there wasn’t any value to it. She might have hated it but others might have got a lot from it. What had impressed her was that Chameakegra had obviously totally immersed herself in it. Her appreciation of all the Hydran creative arts was genuine. This was no act or subterfuge. Chameakegra one hundred percent believed that this creativity was worthy and worth preserving. Of that there was no doubt.

What Grrndakegra had to decide was whether the creative side of Hydran nature made up for the violence and greed and whether they could ever be acceptable to the Federation. Clearly it didn’t.

But things did not stop there. If it had been as simple as that the judgement would have been clear. The Hydrans would undoubtedly no longer be here. Chameakegra had believed that the Hydrans were redeemable. She had come up with a plan and Judge Booghramakegra had decided, going against normal procedure, to try the experiment out.

That’s where they were.

Beheggakegri had a private vendetta going with Chameakegra, despised the Hydrans, and wanted her to sabotage the operation. That’s what she’d been brought in to do. Beheggakegri was using her to settle his own private vendettas.

Grrndakegra did not like being used. She was beginning to feel conflicted.

‘Was that wise?’

Ron winced and gave Chameakegra a grim look. ‘I don’t know. Liz’s idea. I thought it was worth a risk. I was hoping to at least try to make Billy think.’

‘Is he capable of rational thought?’

Ron chuckled ironically. ‘Yes,’ he looked Chameakegra in the eye. ‘He’s not as stupid as he seems. None of them are. They have their own rational way of looking at things; it’s different to our perspective, that’s all. Billy and his friends are very patriotic and more than a little xenophobic, even racist. Even if they won’t admit it they believe that British people are intrinsically superior to any other breed and that Britain and its culture is worth fighting for. They can’t help that it’s inherent in their upbringing and education. They’ve been taught that everything we’ve done and stand for is better than anything anybody else has done. They have immense pride in Britain.’

‘But surely they can see that this is just shallow tribalism?’ Chameakegra responded, not able to grasp how anybody could think that way. ‘That’s like me saying that Giforians are inherently better than Drefs, Achecs, Marlans or Xercs. That doesn’t make sense. It’s obvious that different races have certain abilities that may be better suited for some tasks but are inferior in other ways. We Giforians understand that all Giforian history is not covered in glory. Our ancestors did not always follow a morally exemplary way of life. We accept that.’

Ron chuckled. ‘That’s not how Billy and his mates think. They’ve been brought up to believe everything British is better. They think the British Empire was the greatest thing that ever happened to the world and that our little island has always been better than any other place on the planet. That makes them think that it is worth fighting for. They want the present to be like some idealised version of the past. The irony is that the past was an absolute nightmare for most people. But they don’t see that. They think they can take you on.’

‘But can’t they see what they are up against? Surely they can see the superiority of our technology. We took over the whole planet and nullified the armoury of every single nation. We can eradicate the whole Hydran race in an instant if we wanted to. There is nothing you can do if we decide to act.’ Chameakegra was mystified.

Ron chuckled again. ‘You might have studied us but that doesn’t mean that you understand us. Billy runs on idealism, not rationality. Humans have an inbuilt desire to fight for what they believe in, even if that is against all the odds, even if that leads to their inevitable demise. It’s called martyrdom and we’ve got a long tradition of self-sacrifice. It’s considered highly honourable.’

‘That’s senseless.’

‘But that has been a factor in human behaviour throughout history. Some of us have always been prepared to face certain death for the sake of a principle or belief.’

Chameakegra struggled with understanding this bizarre concept. ‘So explaining to Billy Smythe that Hydrans are being assessed and if they show signs of violent behaviour they might be eradicated might prove a useless exercise?’

‘Probably,’ Ron conceded, ‘even if he believed me, which I don’t think he did. But there is always the outside chance that something might stick. He might be prepared to give us a little more time. Besides, I could see that Charlene was more pragmatic. Maybe the women might bring some sense to the argument?’

Chameakegra looked confused. The more she learnt about Hydrans the less she understood.

Thursday nights were back to normal now that all restrictions had been lifted. The Ashley Arms bustling with its usual bustling trade. It appeared that everybody wanted to escape the claustrophobia and fear of the alien occupation. Alcohol flowed liberally. Secure in their snug, away from the din, the gang had ensconced themselves safe within their old familiarity.

‘Are you sure it was the Ron Forsythe?’ Denby asked disparagingly. He didn’t believe a word Billy and Charly were feeding him. They were having a laugh.

‘Of course I’m bloody sure,’ Billy replied indignantly. He was getting fed up with Denby’s attitude.

‘It was,’ Charly added. ‘I can vouch for that.’

Everybody still looked a little sceptical, though they gave Charly’s opinion a little more credibility than they did Billy’s. The idea of Ron Forsythe, steward of the planet, dropping in on Billy Smythe, arch big-mouth, seemed a little far-fetched.

‘Anyway,’ Billy pressed on, looking a little hurt and annoyed, ‘he’s only telling me to lay off and give the fucking lizards a chance.’

‘He says that the lizards are assessing us to see if we’re worth saving. If we don’t make the grade they’re going to bump us off,’ Charly informed them.

‘Why’s he siding with them?’ Denby remarked angrily, grudgingly accepting that it might be true that he visited them in person.

‘He says that we should give them a chance to improve things so that we can see that they mean what they say,’ Charly added. ‘He says that we should trust them.’

‘Trust them my arse,’ Denby replied, taking a big gulp of his beer. ‘I’d rather trust a grizzly bear.’

‘Well they’ve done everything they said they were going to do,’ Debbie stated, a little huffily. ‘They’ve introduced cheap electricity and food prices have dived.’

‘If you want to eat that alien muck,’ Denby snarled, rounding on her.

‘There’s nothing wrong with the food they’ve brought in,’ Debbie protested. ‘Me and John like it and it’s supposed to be real healthy.’

‘I like it,’ Foxy chortled. ‘Tastes real good.’

Denby turned and glowered at him as if he was a right old traitor,

‘Perhaps they will make things better?’ Kathy suggested. ‘There hasn’t been a shot fired since they arrived. All them wars. They’ve put a stop to all that.’

‘Taken away our means of fighting back, more like,’ Denby added cynically. ‘Once we’re helpless they’ll change their tune.’

‘Fat lot of good our armies made,’ Debbie pointed out. ‘They took over without any bloody effort. Not a shot fired.’

‘Debbie’s got a point,’ Kathy observed. ‘Even if we had control of all of our armies and airforce and stuff they’d be useless against those bloody lizards. It’d be like slings and arrows against tanks. They brushed us aside as if we didn’t exist.’

‘Resistance is futile,’ Foxy added, doing his best Dalek impression.

‘So what do you think we should do?’ Billy asked, not sounding anywhere near as sure as he had at the beginning.’

‘I think that if we annoy them they’ll probably wipe us out,’ John remarked miserably.

Billy looked nonplussed.

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

Posted on by Opher

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

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

I’d be delighted if you take a look!

The Time Traveller – now available in 3 formats

Posted on by Opher

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

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

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

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

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