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.

The Cleansing – 20 – Chapter 7 continued

Posted on by Opher

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

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

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

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

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

‘And the shops are open,’ Debbie added.

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

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

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

‘Where?’ Cheryl enquired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I suppose,’ said Denby with a sigh.

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

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

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

‘Are you Ron Forsythe?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ron Forsythe the writer.’

Yes.’

‘I have read all your works.’

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

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

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

‘You have an extraordinary mind.’

‘I do?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 19 – Chapter 7

Posted on by Opher

I thought it might be interesting to bring myself into the story. I always have a liking for a tall tale. I can indulge my creativity and idealism.

Chapter 7 – The Appointment

The craft came to a halt in the road outside Ron Forsythe’s home. He was in the kitchen making himself a coffee before continuing with the next chapter of his latest Sci-fi novel. Even in the midst of an alien invasion life had to go on. All this alien activity seemed to have lubricated some gland in his cerebrum. The ideas were flowing. He was finding it hard to keep up with the flow. That’s what he loved – riding the crest of that wave. It felt like heaven.

For Ron writing was a kind of therapy. He lost himself in deep meditative immersion. The world disappeared and he became completely submerged in his characters, setting and plot. Ideas popped out of nowhere, chasing each other’s tails, and sent him eager to get them turned into scenes. Nothing else mattered. Even the invasion of the planet by a race of alien lizards seemed secondary. There was nothing he could do about the invasion so he might as well write. While the ideas were growing he had to harvest them. If he left them they turned sour.

The kettle turned itself off as Ron watched the craft as it hovered above the tarmac. It seemed smaller than the one that had carted George and Jean off but of similar ilk – sleek, metallic and shape not dissimilar to one of those new-fangled concept cars. He studied it with professional interest. It might just provide the template for one of the craft he was writing about in his latest book. About the size of a city coach with a curved hull with organic curves giving the appearance of a living creature. He liked it. It had bags of character, not just a bland technologically sound spiritless piece of practical technology; it had real character. Ron stared at the metallic hull trying to commit it to memory and thought his eyes might be playing with him as if seemed to be made of a strange alloy that shifted before his gaze, flowing with iridescent greens and silver, almost liquid. He was loving this. Perhaps he should start making some notes before it disappeared?

The kettle was forgotten, his spoon of coffee with three sweeteners sitting in the bottom of his mug waited in vain for the boiling water.

The more he peered at that alloy the craft was made of the stranger it seemed. Ron noticed that while it was perfectly smooth it did not reflect light at all. If anything the sunshine seemed to be absorbed into its substance. The reflection from its surface seemed to emanate from within it. Weird and intriguing. But then it was alien shit wasn’t it? You couldn’t expect it to be mundane.

Having an actual alien craft sitting on the road outside your house for you to study at length was manna from heaven to a Sci-fi writer. Who could have imagined?

His eyes sucked it in like a starving leech on an obese backside.

Ron wondered how they operated the machine. There was no obvious cockpit or clear window at the front. He surmised that there had to be some kind of radar and a screen inside. Interesting.

The propulsion was also a mystery. There were no visible nacelles, rockets or boosters. If he listened intently he could just make out a soft throb. Something was going on but he could not say what. It certainly looked fast and agile and he’d seen the other one zooming straight up into the sky. He hadn’t thought of it at the time, more concerned with what had happened to George and Jean to think about that, but he’d seen no rocket flames or plasma pulses. Whatever powered it had to be some strange new science. Intriguing.

Here it was effortlessly hovering above the tarmac with no visible sign of support, no wheels, struts or tangible structure. It just floated. These aliens were incredibly interesting.

Only then did Ron come out of his reverie to think about what the machine was doing outside his house. Were they coming for him or one of his neighbours? Perhaps they were on some alien tea break? At any moment he expected those openings in the hull to dilate and a bunch of saurian Stormtroopers to pour out.

Eventually an opening did dilate and a solitary lizard did step out. A lone lizard, and it hardly looked like a Stormtrooper. Ron studied the lizard as it looked around taking in its surrounds. It appeared just like the lizard he’d seen on the telly. But then they all looked exactly the same, didn’t they?

Ron turned his full attention on to this new alien character. Another opportunity to study an alien up close. Very handy. It was certainly an impressive creature. The face was flattened and scaly with two holes that were obviously nostrils below the most amazing green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the sunshine. The whole body, or at least all that he could see of it, was covered in large scales although the face seemed to be plated in more flexible skin. They glistened and gleamed in the sunlight as if they had been oiled. Very similar to the alloy of the craft it had emerged from. The scales also seemed fluid, streaming with iridescent colour.

If only he’d had his notebook handy. Perhaps he should rush and get it, but by then the creature and its craft might have gone. Best to study it while he could.

The creature reared upright to a height that seemed more than nine feet but the crest on its head gave it at least another foot and that didn’t seem to be fully erect yet. Wow! He studied the muscular legs and long sinuous tail that was deployed for balance and thought that that ridged tail would probably make a fearsome weapon if it came to a fight, as would the long curved scimitars of claws to be found on all four appendages. He found himself wondering about the nature of the fangs that probably lurked within the thin line of that set mouth. Not something you’d like to encounter on a moonless night down a dark lane. No wonder it seemed confident on its own. You wouldn’t want to mess with it. That alien lizard was a fearsome specimen.

Ron felt Woody press up against his leg. The dog couldn’t see the saurian but he could no doubt sense it and hear that strange pulsing sound from the craft. He hadn’t barked though. That was strange. If the postman had come anywhere near he would have been doing his best impression of Cujo – Stephen King’s rabid hound.

Ron reached down to scratch Woody’s ears reassuringly while watching what was going on outside in a detached manner. The alien orientated itself, leisurely looking around at the houses and then both ways down the avenue, not appearing at all apprehensive.

Seemingly, having ascertained that it was in the right place the reptile strode determinedly towards the front door.

With a start Ron realised that it was coming for him.

Woody, his fearless defender, must have also sensed that the alien lizard was coming to their door as he slunk off back to his bed with his tail between his legs, curled himself up and pretended nothing was happening. So much for fearless defender of his master. Ron kind of wished he could do the same. But there was also a tang of curiosity. What did the creature want with him? Or was it after Liz?

Ron looked from the dog to the doorway. Somehow he couldn’t imagine the giant psychedelic lizard ringing the doorbell and, not wanting the door to end up in splinters like had happened to George and Jean, hurried off to open it before the lizard got there. Whatever the creature wanted there seemed no point in resisting. He’d stand no chance. He’d go quietly. Though if it wanted to take Liz there’d be harsh words.

Ron flung open the door just as Chameakegra arrived on the step.

The Cleansing 11 – Chapter 3

Posted on by Opher

Sorting the plot for this novel to provide twists and turns was fun. This social/political satire is a reflection on the state of the world we have created but I wanted it to be a good read too!

Chapter 3 – Control and Lack of Control

Beheggakegri called a special meeting of the United Federation of Races committee. The damn time lapse in receiving information from Grrndakegra was proving a major problem. How could he possibly control things with this degree of waiting? By the time he received updates, the situation on Hydra had probably changed. If it hadn’t meant leaving the luxury of his beloved luxoservo Lomi with its unique dainties and quality psychosynth, he might have been tempted to make the trip himself. But he knew he couldn’t justify that. The Federal Administration would start asking questions. Hydra was just a pimple on the backside of the Federation. There were countless other nifts he was meant to be frying. His personal vendetta against Commander Chameakegra and her pet judge was no justification. The central council did not share his views. To them Hydra was a minor problem. Beheggakegri had plenty more issues to oversee than one tiny planet stuck out in the middle of nowhere. He was left frustrated.

‘Why is that drangling Judge getting herself involved?’ Beheggakegri railed, glaring around at the committee as if it were their fault. His eyes locked on Sang.

Sang knew what was coming. He saturated his epidermis in preparation and met Beheggakegri’s gaze. ‘She has sent us a communique stating that this case is so interesting she has decided to take a sabbatical and participate in the experiment.’

‘Participate in the experiment?’ Beheggakegri repeated in disbelief. ‘It’s none of her drangling business. Order her to keep her snout out of our drangling stuff!’

‘Actually,’ the Achec Zenn interceded, ‘she has a right to remain involved. It is enshrined in the constitution. Our claws are entangled.’

Beheggakegri rounded on him with a glare that threatened to melt titanium. ‘What drangling constitution??’ He turned back to Sang. ‘You drangling tell that dull‑scuted apology for a Judge to clear off. We are dealing with this.’

‘I’ll try,’ Sang replied calmly, already formulating the wording of a diplomatic request, ‘but I rather feel she won’t take any notice.’

‘Just order her!’ Beheggakegri bellowed.

‘We might be on more secure ground asking politely,’ the Jerbian Debo suggested tactfully.

‘Yes, we’re on very dodgy legal ground issuing orders to Judges,’ Bark the Marlan added.

Beheggakegri seemed ready to explode. The bulging flesh protruding between his scutes throbbed like an overripe godelberry. Colours raced across his plates in a manic psychedelic rainbow. Somehow he regained speech. ‘I don’t care how you do it. Just get that drangling Judge out of there!’

Grrndakegra thought she looked suitably impressive, decked out in her finest. Her image was beamed through every TV set on Hydra. They had seized every transmitter; the alien broadcast was the only game in town. Everyone wanted to hear what the invaders had to say.

She could not have believed her words would calm and reassure the terrified population. If she had, she was utterly wrong. If she meant to terrify, the Hydran reaction must have pleased her immensely. The sight of a giant gaudily coloured lizard with a crest, fangs, a bright blue forked tongue, and piercing green eyes was enough to send Hydrans into paroxysms of fear. To them she was a nightmare made flesh. Her voice, which she must have thought soothing as ordered by Judge Booghramakegra, barked from receivers like the growl of a rabid grizzly. Far from reassuring, it sent Hydran minds into frenzy. Many fainted outright. The visual impact of an adult Giforian in full regalia was petrifying. Who cared what she said? They had been invaded by dragons. Who knew what might happen? These aliens probably feasted on babies and barbequed people for fun.

Chameakegra watched the performance from the Neff’s bridge. Feeds poured in from across Hydra. This was not going well. She shook her scaly head. If only Grrndakegra had consulted instead of rushing in. This would be hard to recover from. Not the best of starts. But perhaps that was the point. Was Grrndakegra doing Beheggakegri’s bidding?

Commander Chameakegra mailed Grrndakegra to formally inform her of her intention to visit. The response was brief and less than welcoming. Grrndakegra was available for a thirty‑minute window at 10 hundred hours. Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, Chameakegra accepted.

Travelling alone in the shuttle, she was cleared for docking. Her entry onto Quorma was a far cry from the reception Grrndakegra had received on Neff. As the airlock dilated, a young female Dref waited to escort her directly to Grrndakegra’s quarters. Chameakegra struggled to hide her annoyance. No welcoming committee. It felt like an insult. It was an insult.

Grrndakegra’s quarters were Spartan and utilitarian. The Dref was dismissed. Chameakegra gestured to a pexi beside a low mense while Grrndakegra dealt with a ‘pressing’ matter on her comulator. After a few minutes she reluctantly dragged herself away and joined Chameakegra. No refreshments were offered.

Grrndakegra stared questioningly.

‘I thought it important that we liaise and formulate a policy on the best way to proceed,’ Chameakegra opened, keeping her tone neutral. She did not want to suggest Grrndakegra’s opening moves had been a disaster. That was self‑evident.

Grrndakegra looked puzzled. ‘I cannot see what there is to discuss or liaise on,’ she replied. Chameakegra thought she could already detect slight ripples of yellow annoyance in her scutes.
‘I think that the approach we take in dealing with the Hydrans will largely determine whether the mission succeeds or fails,’ Chameakegra insisted.

Grrndakegra looked even more confused. ‘The sequence is laid out. It is clear. We move in, take over all military, political and media institutions, and restore order. We’ve done that. Now we begin the process of moving forward. We dissolve all nations, set up a global government, begin to introduce a suitable education programme, and remove the errant Hydrans. Couldn’t be clearer. That is what I was initiating when you interrupted me.’

Chameakegra was shocked at the abruptness of the response. ‘Surely you can see that unless we actually take the population with us this will be doomed to fail?’

Grrndakegra shrugged. ‘They will either find themselves worthy or not. It’s of no consequence to me either way.’

‘Don’t you want to facilitate some rehabilitation and introduction to the Federation?’

Grrndakegra looked pensive but no pink tinge invaded her scutes. ‘Once we have removed the troublesome element, done away with the absurd archaic tribalism, and introduced a suitable education programme, I think it is largely in the hands of the Hydrans.’

‘But you are overlooking the emotional make‑up of these Hydrans. You are inviting opposition.’

‘It goes without saying that we will overhaul their energy production and industry. We will remove all pollution and cordon off areas of the natural habitat so that the ecosystems can mend. That will soon create a great improvement in their living conditions. No Hydrans will be starving or living in poverty. The air and water will be uncontaminated. The planet will replenish itself.’ Grrndakegra looked genuinely perplexed. If she was acting she was doing a good job. She appeared as if she really could not see what the problem was. ‘They will soon understand that things are far better under our control. Then we will see what they are made of.’

For a number of seconds Chameakegra sat and stared at Grrndakegra, not quite knowing how to respond. Was she really so ignorant or was she deliberately trying to sabotage the whole experiment? She had to at least assume that she was genuine. ‘We need to work together. I know the Hydrans. I’ve studied them, moved around in their societies. I understand what makes them tick. Take last night. That could have gone much more smoothly if you had consulted with me.’

The yellow ripple of annoyance gave way to a clear burst of green displeasure, though Chameakegra could see a slight pink of thoughtful consideration. ‘Yesterday proceeded very smoothly,’ Grrndakegra responded, an edge of anger and defiance dominating the clipped tones. ‘We successfully took over all strategic sites without opposition. We placed ourselves firmly in control and restored order. The first phase was completed without incident.’

‘That is as maybe,’ Chameakegra was attempting to find a conciliatory way forward. ‘But your subsequent broadcast failed to reduce Hydran fears and establish a way forward. It frightened the life out of them. Surely you can see that?’

Grrndakegra bristled, deep waves of green rippled over her scutes and her crest reared with a distinct warning white. ‘The broadcast was necessary to establish our control.’

‘Yes, but it did not need to be as frightening for the Hydrans. So frightening that they did not listen to what you had to say.’

Grrndakegra looked genuinely confused. Waves of black bewilderment began marching over her crest. If this was an act she deserved an award.

Chameakegra had to give her the benefit of doubt. ‘For Hydrans the sight of a large Giforian is a terrifying spectacle.’

Grrndakegra raised her palms. ‘But they have to get used to the sight of Giforians, Drefs, Achecs and the rest. We are here. We have taken over.’

‘But that could be done gradually. For that first broadcast, if you had kept what is to them a terrifying image out of the way, you might have had a calming effect. You could have talked to them and they would have listened. It was an opportunity to explain the benefits and reassure them that we are benevolent and mean them no harm. It was an opportunity to set a tone and allay their fears. They might not all have been won over, but it would not have exacerbated the problem.’

Grrndakegra shrugged again and slumped back with a grim look on her face. She regarded Chameakegra sternly. ‘We have invaded their planet and taken over. Do you really expect them to welcome us with open claws? They have to get used to it.’

‘No, I don’t expect them to welcome us, but I don’t believe we have to terrify them into submission,’ Chameakegra asserted, meeting Grrndakegra’s disparaging stare. ‘I am not thinking about the immediate situation. I’m projecting further into the future. If we handle this right and they come to see our take‑over as beneficial and short‑term, then I think we have a good chance of creating what I would consider to be a good outcome.’

Grrndakegra glared at her, daring her to put that outcome into words.

‘I want them developing their positive side and shucking off the negative attributes so that they can legitimately find a place in the Federation.’

‘Why?’ Grrndakegra seemed genuinely bemused.

Chameakegra gathered her thoughts. ‘Because I believe that at their best they are more than worthy. They are vibrant and creative and have a great deal to bring to the Federation.’

Grrndakegra seemed to consider that. ‘Hmmm, you are truly an idealist,’ she muttered. ‘I can’t say that I’ve seen any of those positive attributes that you speak of. They seem rather a weak, craven race to me, but I’ll take your word for it.’

Chameakegra took that as a step forward. ‘All I am suggesting is that we work closely together and you allow me an opinion in how things are carried out. I think that’s important.’

A distinct wave of mauve amusement flowed across Grrndakegra’s scutes as she smiled across at Chameakegra. ‘Alright then. What’s there to lose?’ They rattled claws.

‘I am sorting the arrangements for the separation. The techs have nearly completed the lunar facilities. I am going to start the process of extraction. Any suggestion on how that should proceed?’

Chameakegra ignored the condescending tone. The process of extracting the abhorrent elements was going to be ugly. She knew that but could see no way around it. They had to extract the poison before the wounds could heal. She had no advice to offer.
‘No. I don’t see any way of carrying out that operation painlessly. We have identified the individuals for extraction. We have furnished you with them. We just have to do it as quickly and painlessly as possible.’

Grrndakegra looked surprised. She had been expecting some kind of namby‑pamby protest.
‘I would like to draft a broadcast though. Something that will set out clearly what we intend to do and lay the groundwork for a future relationship,’ Chameakegra added.
‘I’ve no objection to that,’ Grrndakegra smiled.