The Cleansing – 24 – Chapter 10 continued

Posted on by Opher

Little did I realise what ICE were going to be doing in American cities. I was looking into the future:

The camps were full to bursting. Rows of prefabricated huts extruded from some strange alienplastic-like material extended into the distance like some battery hen egg-producing factories. Inside was just as orderly and mechanised in the most sterile manner imaginable. The huts were crammed full of bunk beds made of the same alloy, each equipped with a mattress, single pillow and sheet. The amenities were shared – toilets and wash basins all made of strange alien fabrics. Everything was very basic and austere. They worked and did the job but that was all.

The lack of a perimeter wire was the camps only redeeming feature. The inmates, all dressed in the same single-piece tunics, were contained by an invisible containing barrier. There were no entrances or exits visible. Nothing could come in and nothing went out through that undetectable partition. The alien craft landed vertically into a central reception area. That was the only commerce.

Each massive block was managed by a single lizard who paid scant attention to what was going on inside their domain. Their function seemed largely ornamental. They were there to register a presence and perhaps record what went on. Their one task was to oversee a delivery of bland untextured alien food three times a day. Otherwise they ignored the inmates and what they got up to. In the event of fights they would appear and wait for it to be over, watching with interest. The injured would be removed without any repercussions for the offenders. Even when horrible weapons were constructed and inmates killed nothing was done about it. Law, rules and regulations were left to the inmates to implement. The inmates were left to organise themselves, no attention was paid to the distribution of food, condition of the toilets and wash areas or any form of entertainment. That was also left to the inmates. Once a week bedding was changed, apart from that it was a free-for-all that rapidly descended into a survival of the fittest. A recipe for disaster.

Almost as if someone had designed the kind of pressure cooker likely to explode.

Most of the guards were nine foot Giforians with a smattering of slightly smaller Drefs. They seemed impervious to physical attack, brushing assailants away like flies, and equally impervious to cries for help. If anything they found the antics of their charges either amusing or repulsive. They made no attempt to indulge in any interplay.

Inside the huts no distinction was made between the inmates – rich, poor, famous, criminal, male, female they were all heaped in together, supplied with the same tunics and left to organise themselves. It proved fertile ground for squabbles, baiting, bullying, rape and intimidation that broke down into regular nasty fights. Some huts were orderly otherswere run by various factions who organised things for the benefit of a ruthless minority. The strongest and meanest prevailed.

Every few minutes more craft would arrive to spill out their cargoes of furious or bewildered people who were crammed in to the over full huts. The strange glassy bunks were pushed closer together and more crammed in. Feeble attempts were made at privacy with sheets pinned up and ‘inmates’ with nothing to do sat listlessly or dozed on their bunks. The basic, tasteless food was picked over and only consumed out of hunger. Entertainment was restricted to a stroll between huts and gossip with fellow inmates. Some tried to keep themselves fit through a fitness regime but most lazed around listlessly and grew increasingly despondent. There were three main topics of conversation: why had they all been singled out? Where were they going? What was going to happen to them?

An air of anger, violence and fear hung over the camps. It was waiting to ignite.

On arrival the newcomers were processed by big lumbering Leff who scanned, cross-checked DNA, chipped, vaccinated and sorted them in a perfunctory manner. They were then roughly led to their new ‘homes’. Most were so stunned by what had happened that they moved through the process in a trance. Occasionally someone would break down into a fit of hysterics or resist, arguing fiercely, shouting, ranting, beating at one of the reptiles or attempting to run away. They were roughly manhandled and brought back into line. It was soon apparent that the lizards were faster and stronger and seemed completely impervious to pleas or attacks. Resistance was futile. The troopers had a job to do and they intended to do it. They carried out their role dispassionately.

The boredom did nothing to lift the air of hostility that gripped the place. There was nobody to turn to for help, nobody to ask, no questions answered. They were left to stew, to wonder why they were here and what was going to happen to them. Conspiracies festered.

The Cleansing – 23 – Chapter 9

Posted on by Opher

I wanted to tap into the wave of populism that is sweeping the country and identify some of the nationalistic patriot tropes. I also wanted to explore the emotional and political dynamics of relationships.

Sci-fi for me is about the life we are living. I just create a different setting within which to explore it.

Chapter 9 – The Meeting

‘Bloody hell,’ Denby squawked as they approached the Ashley. There were crowds outside and it was twenty minutes before they were due to start. He turned to Billy with a look of incredulity on his face. ‘They can’t fucking be here for our meeting, can they?’

Billy shook his head in shock. ‘I wish I’d made a few notes.’

‘You’ll be fine, you daft sod,’ Charlene remarked. ‘You never usually have any trouble spouting your head off. Just tell them how it is.’

Billy had turned puce and looked far from convinced.

‘We’ll all be right behind you,’ Cheryl said, frowning as she looked at the milling crowd outside the pub.

‘Yep,’ Foxy added, ‘a long, long way behind!’

They managed to squeeze in through the door and push their way through the crowd to the bar where they were hemmed in and turned to face the crowd. Billy nervously stood at the front flanked by Charlene and Billy with the others pressing in around them. They had no option but to be squeezed together; the crowd was that tightly packed. There was a loud babble of noise with everybody talking at once. You had to shout to be heard.

‘Right Everyone!!’ Billy shouted. Nobody took the slightest bit of notice. ‘Hello! Can I have your attention?’

‘Up on the bar,’ Charlene hissed in his ear, shoving him towards the counter. Nobby reached over and Denby and Foxy gave him a hoist and Billy found himself up on the bar looking down at the crowd below. It did not take long for the people to notice him. The noise died away.

Billy peered round at a sea of faces packed like a bag of jelly beans. A great wave of nausea welled up inside him but he battled it down.

‘Hmmmph,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for coming.’ It came out like a squeak. ‘Thank you. Thank you for coming,’ he stammered, his voice stronger. Then, miraculously the panic inside him subsided and he found his voice.  ‘Bloody hell! I didn’t expect so many of you.’ A big cheer went up and he felt himself relax.

‘We’re all here because of the same thing,’ he went on more confidently. ‘We’re here because of these bloody lizards.’ A great roar went up that buoyed him along. ‘They’ve been dragging people away, terrorising families. It’s a bloody tyranny of fear!’

A roar went up. They unanimously agreed. You could see Billy visibly swell as the crowd boosted him.

‘They tell us that it’s for our own good,’ he told them while making it clear that he did not believe a word. A disgruntled boo went around the room. ‘I reckon it’s nothing short of control!’ The crowd liked that. A roar went up around the room. He jabbed his finger accusingly in the air. ‘These bloody lizards are trying to control us! They want us to shut up and for us to roll over!’

By now the crowd were baying. They were lapping this up. This is just what they wanted to hear.

‘I say, enough!’ Billy jabbed.

‘Enough!’ they roared back. ‘Enough! Enough! Enough!’ Punctuating each jab of Billy’s finger.

‘We want our country back!’ Billy shouted.

‘WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK!!’ they roared back at him. Billy looked round at the animated crowd. He couldn’t believe it. In no time at all he’d worked them into a frenzy.

It went on with more of the same. He fed them his gripes in short punchy one-liners and they amplified it back at him tenfold. It flowed out of him like lager out of Nobby’s taps.

‘Bloody Ada!’ Charlene exclaimed as they walked back. She was looking at her phone. She looked across at Billy with a startled face. ‘There’s over two hundred thousand hits on the site I put up!’

‘Might need a bigger venue for the next meeting,’ Foxy jested.

Billy looked across at Denby. What the fuck had they unleashed?

‘I reckon we need to be watching our backs,’ Bob remarked dourly. ‘Those fucking lizards are going to be taking a dim view of all this. They’ll be pulling us in with all them others. We’ll be the ones brainwashed!’

That sent a shiver through all of them. Debbie glanced up at the sky as if expecting an alien craft to swoop down out of the heavens and Charlene flashed Billy a worried look. Bob was right. They were putting themselves in the spotlight.

‘Gotta be done,’ Billy stated resolutely, walking with a defiant swagger.

Chapter 10 – Consolidation

Ron was in a quandary. Being rushed off to New York and told he was running the show had thrown him into a complete daze. He felt like he was awake in some weird dream that he couldn’t fight his way out of. Was any of this real? Had the lizards really come? Were they really putting him in charge? Or was this some strange hallucination? Probably someone had slipped some acid into his drink and all this was some great fiction served up by his overheated brain? Perhaps he was really stuck in some kind of Matrix? He was half expecting Keanu Reeves to walk in at any moment. It was too preposterous for words. Anything was more likely than the scenario he was being served up with right now. Yet it seemed real. It felt real. He found himself sitting down and shaking his head to clear the absurdities out, as if a few shakes of the head might bring everything back the way it was before.

Gradually it felt as if he was emerging from a narcotic haze. It was real. He really was here. As Chameakegra began to prime him on what they were going to do it slowly began to dawn on him that he really was here, it really was happening to him and he was being presented with a programme by a bunch of alien lizards, a programme that he actually approved of, from what he had seen of it. He was being asked to take control of a scheme to improve the world, a vision that weirdly aligned itself with his own ideals. Uncanny. Though it was totally ridiculous he was going to have to go along with it. What else could he do? Go and admit himself to the nearest mental asylum?

‘We are prepared to work with you Hydrans to create a better society,’ Chameakegra was telling him. ‘We will supply the means to enable the alterations – the scientific and technological expertise – but it requires a Hydran government to back and implement the changes.’

‘Whoa,’ Ron said, coming out of his trance and raising his hands to slow her down, ‘what changes? What changes are you after me implementing? All I’ve got to go on is that speech you delivered on the TV. I need details.’

Chameakegra’s iridescent green eyes seemed to glow. Ron got the impression that she was finding this amusing. ‘Right,’ she said slowly as if addressing a child. ‘We are looking to generate a global Hydran culture that is well-adjusted, non-violent, compassionate and tolerant. A single global culture that incorporates the richness of the different cultures that are incorporated but one that operates under an overarching philosophy based on equality, fairness and justice. We want a culture that retains the vibrancy and creativity of your species but is rid of the destructiveness. That global culture would set up a new zeitgeist and alter the way Hydrans develop and think.’

‘All very well,’ Ron remarked sceptically, playing along with the illusion as if it was real. ‘That all seems too good to be true. Very idealistic. I’m not even sure it can be achieved.’

Chameakegra studied him with an unflinching gaze. ‘That is what we are hoping to find out.’

Ron peered back at her, no longer intimidated by her size and ferocious appearance. ‘I’m all in favour of non-violence, equality and the rest.’

‘We know.

Ron peered at her questioningly.

‘We’ve carried out the tests. That’s why you are here. You have the qualities and ethics that we are looking for.’

‘But why me?’ Ron bleated.

The Giforian made a mannerism that Ron recognised as a chuckle. The more he was around these lizards the more he was beginning to understand them At least on a superficial level. He was certain that the lizard was amused.

‘I am concerned that Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra are doing their best to undermine your efforts,’ Judge Booghramakegra messaged.

‘I suspect the same,’ Chameakegra messaged back. ‘In fact I’m certain of it.’

‘I would suggest that you look to take charge of the rehabilitation process as soon as possible and look to have an input on the rounding up of the reprobates.’

‘I have limited power. We have a joint command which means that I cannot greatly influence what Grrndakegra is doing and how she is doing it. The lunar facilities are coming along but will take time. We will have to house millions.’

‘Can’t you at least begin to process some of them?’

‘Not really. I have the team of psychologists and psychiatrists you have sent all ready and prepared. They are fully up to speed on Hydran psychology. As soon as I am able I will initiate the process. But until I get the go-ahead that the facilities are ready to receive a batch, my claws are tied.’

‘From what I am seeing the rounding up process is causing a great deal of animosity.’ Judge Booghramakegra seemed very annoyed.

‘That was always going to be the case in the best of circumstances,’ Chameakegra reflected. ‘But I am sure that Grrndakegra is not making it run as smoothly as it might have.’

‘Some of those scenes look dreadful.’ Booghramakegra asserted. ‘Do you want me to press for you taking overall command? I can put some pressure on Beheggakegri.’

Chameakegra considered this. She knew that, despite the judge’s power, there would be a process and Beheggakegri would certainly throw some flujes in the werbez. By the time they got that through the damage would likely be done. The round-up would likely be over apart from minor mopping up. Open conflict with Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra might prove do more harm than good. ‘No, No, leave it for the moment. I shall see if I can’t sort things out.’

‘If you need help just ask. I think this experiment is of the utmost importance.

The Cleansing – 21 – Chapter 8

Posted on by Opher

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

Chapter 8 – The Mechanics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here she wanted to mollify some of the concerns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleansing – 20 – Chapter 7 continued

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 18 (Sci-fi novel)- Chapter 6 continued

Posted on by Opher

I (as Ron Forsythe Sci-fi writer) wanted to create a juxtaposition of a ‘typical’ working class group of friends with that of a professional writer in the setting of an alien invasion. The human race has been judged. Now comes the cleansing – the way to improve the situation. The aliens are bringing in measures to rectify the historical failings of the human race. The locals are watching the alien broadcast in their local pub:

‘Jesus,’ Denby said, his face drawn into a disbelieving sneer, ‘did you see that face.’

‘Ugly buggers, aren’t they,’ Foxy replied.

‘Did you catch that bit about countries,’ Billy said, still staring at the silent TV and shaking his head. ‘Those bastards think they can come along and take our country away from us. They got another fucking think coming. Trying to buy us off with all that guff about how great things are going to be. Pile of fucking horseshit if you ask me!’

‘Countries and democracy!’ Denby scowled. ‘They think they can fucking put their own people in and tell us what to do.’

‘At least they said that they weren’t going to do us any harm,’ Debbie commented whimsically.

‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ Billy sneered. ‘We’ve heard all that before. Every fucking time there’s a coup they fucking tell everyone that it’s all going to be alright – we’re here to put things right’ – next thing you know there’s fucking firing squads, torture chambers and the fucking gestapo.’

‘You saw how they were dragging all those people off,’ Denby threw his weight in behind Billy. ‘Where the fuck do you think they were going – the local beauty parlour?’

‘But they said they’d be right back, they were just er, being er adjusted.’ Debbie replied, looking doubtful but still desperately wanting to believe what the lizard had said.

Billy chuckled. ‘They’re being adjusted alright. Probably their fucking body parts are being ‘adjusted’ into other places.’

‘You don’t need to scare everyone,’ Charlene said sharply. ‘Not in front of the kids.’ Her eyes darted towards the kids, little Billy junior was playing with his cars but it wasn’t hard to see that he was all ears.

Billy grimaced but shut up.

‘Might not be a bad thing if they take all the right people,’ Foxy said with a big grin. ‘There’s a few of them bastards I wouldn’t mind seeing rearranged. I could make a few suggestions about people and parts. That Farage is a dickhead to start with.’

‘First they came for the communists….’ Denby recited solemnly. That was about all he knew.

‘I just hope they open the shops and let the lads get back to work,’ Kathy said miserably. ‘We’ve got to eat, feed the kids and pay the rent. You can’t do that on fresh air.’

‘They said they were going to make everything better,’ Debbie persevered. Everybody looked sideways at her as if she was nuts so she shut up.

‘At least it’s put a stop to all those immigrants crossing the channel,’ John remarked dourly, changing the subject back on to safer ground.

‘Naw,’ Foxy chuckled. ‘We’ve just got ourselves a different bunch of immigrants – Big lunks with scaly bodies!’

‘You’ll be laughing the other side of your head once these fucking reptiles are through with us,’ Billy replied angrily. ‘First they take our bleeding country away…’

Ron was watching the video links carefully. He was weighing it up with what that gaudy lizard had said. It seemed to make sense to him. They were dragging people out of their mansions, not the ones out of ordinary houses. Perhaps they were doing what they said they were and removing the greedy and power-mad. He thought about Jean. He knew she worked in finance and was always crawling with gold. Her Lotus parked in front of their large house shouted something about her income. Then there was George. He lived in the biggest house in the Close. Nobody knew quite what he did for a living but he was never short. Perhaps the lizards were doing exactly what they purported to be doing? Or was this just the start of something more sinister?

Ron wrote about aliens for a living so he was familiar with the usual scenarios. Aliens came in with their massive laser guns and hyperbolic weapons and flattened all opposition. They set up a command post and wiped out all opposition so they could strip the country of everything they desired. That was usually minerals, water, slaves and food – often the inhabitants themselves were the food. That didn’t seem to be the case with this invasion. At least not yet.

If this was an alien invasion it was pretty bloodless. They hadn’t waded in with weapons blazing. They had simply taken over. Even when they were dragging people away they weren’t killing or injuring them. Even their guns were simply stun guns. What was obvious to Ron was that they had the technology to do what they wanted but they weren’t destroying and killing. Despite the fact that we were completely helpless they were spinning us a positive vision for the future. They had no need to do that. Was this just a subtle control mechanism? Were they playing for time in order to consolidate? He could not see it. With their superior technology they were already in complete control. Perhaps he should believe in what they were saying?

Time would tell. So far he was impressed with the rhetoric. Were the actions going to live up to it though?

Grrndakegra patched through directly to the Neff. Her grinning face appeared floating above Chameakegra’s tridee set on her consul in the bridge open to full scrutiny from the rest of Chameakegra’s crew. A deliberate act. She hadn’t bothered to use Chameakegra’s personal connection or give any warning. Chameakegra noted the half-raised crest and blue sheen. Grrndakegra was enjoying herself.

‘Nice speech,’ Grrndakegra remarked as an opening gambit with what could be interpreted as a half sneer. Chameakegra was left not quite knowing if that was meant sarcastically or not. It threw her. But that was the intent. ‘Do you reckon that will do the trick?’ Her face now had evolved into an unmistakeable full sneer.

‘Not for one moment,’ Chameakegra replied evenly, controlling herself with difficulty and not rising to the goading. ‘It’s going to take a lot more than that to win the Hydrans over. But it’s a start.’

‘A start indeed,’ Grrndakegra was openly mocking.

Chameakegra was desperately trying to keep herself from displaying a hint of yellow annoyance. Her eyes narrowed. She needed to take her on and find a suitable retort. She decided to go on the attack and change direction. ‘Can you please ask your troops to try to be less violent with their arrests? Their communications network is alive with disturbing scenes. It’s going to make our task a lot harder.’

Grrndakegra grinned, the blue deepening on her crest. She was loving this. ‘You can’t cook a jebba without cracking shells.’

Chameakegra appeared unfazed. ‘Yes, but you can do it so that it doesn’t look as if you are at least respecting the jebba, not relishing its demise.’

Grrndakegra shrugged. ‘They’re just doing their job. If the Hydrans didn’t struggle and scream so much they wouldn’t have to use force and it’d all be hunky dory.’

‘How long is this operation going to go on for?’ Chameakegra allowed a little yellow annoyance to tinge the tips of her crest.

‘Until we’ve rounded them all up,’ Grrndakegra replied cheerfully. ‘Thanks to your wonderful research we seem to have got around 90% in the first trawl. Pretty good going. But I reckon that tracking down that last ten percent is likely to be a lot trickier. They’ll have gone to ground.’

Chameakegra was not impressed with the false praise. The tone of Grrndakegra’s voice made it quite clear that she was playing with her. It only served to annoy Chameakegra more.

‘The longer the operation takes the more damage it does to our long-term strategy.’

‘It’ll be what it’ll be,’ Grrndakegra grinned infuriatingly.

Chameakegra knew it was pointless continuing down this line. She was just providing Grrndakegra with ammunition. The operation would run its course. No doubt, given time, they wouldn’t track down all the errant Hydrans. Some would have gone to ground or be lost in the system. The raids would throw more fuel on the conflagration but they would just have to ride it and hope that in the long run the Hydrans would see that she was as good as her word and there could be a better future. She just wished that Grrndakegra was on board. She had a distinct feeling that Grrndakegra was actively working against her. But then what could she expect from a Beheggakegri appointment. ‘What is happening to all the Hydrans you are picking up?’ She asked, choosing a different tack. ‘We haven’t completed the lunar installations yet. The installations won’t be ready for weeks.’

‘Holding them in temporary camps,’ Grrndakegra replied almost gleefully. ‘Don’t worry your crest on that one. We’re taking good care of them.’

Chameakegra had her doubts but there was nothing she could say. This joint leadership presented enormous problems. She could not control things. Grrndakegra was a blot on her plans. She made a note to herself to put a jigger up the construction team. The soon the installations were complete the sooner she could prise the errant Hydrans away from Grrndakegra and begin to work on the reprogramming that she had devised. Just by looking at Grrndakegra’s gloating response she could tell she was up to no good. Chameakegra had the distinct feeling that those camps might be counterproductive. A cloud of doubt spread its gloom over her optimism. With hindsight this whole extraction operation seemed rushed. Why had they gone into this prematurely, before everything was fully prepared? That had been Grrndakegra. Was it just that Grrndakegra was a bit gung-ho or was there something more sinister behind it? Too many people wanted this to fail and she had more than a feeling that Grrndakegra was one of them.

‘What’s you next magic step?’ Grrndakegra asked mockingly. ‘Another speech to reassure our compliant Hydrans perhaps?’

‘Normality.’

‘What do you mean normality?’

‘It’s imperative that we get the Hydrans back to work, open the shops and allow normal discourse. Opening the offices and shops will be essential.’

‘Oh yes,’ Grrndakegra actually laughed, her blue deepening and crest rising, ‘I can’t wait to see how they all cope now that their bosses are all taken away and all the hierarchy has collapsed. No government to provide structure. Send them back and it’ll be chaos.’ She seemed delighted by the thought of that prospect.

‘Quite probably,’ Chameakegra replied evenly. ‘We shall see. And not all the bosses are gone – just the corrupt ones. It’ll be a bit of a test to see how the ones who are left handle the situation. Remove the bad loohs and the good loohs rise to the surface. Besides, we’ll lend them a hand.’

‘Or they flounder around and go to pieces without direction.’ Grrndakegra seemed to find that immensely amusing.

‘Some will. Some won’t.’ She was finding this exasperating. ‘They are intelligent and capable you know? They aren’t all corrupt and useless.’

Grrndakegra looked as if she didn’t believe that for one minute.

‘We’ll open up the work, set the transport hub operating and get the media working, under our supervision. We’ll provide support.’

‘That from the Neff then?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’ll work then. You’ve got a massive, well-trained crew and there won’t be too much need for support, will there?’ The tone suggested that Grrndakegra did not expect them to cope.

‘Neff will handle it. We’ll trouble shoot.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Grrndakegra was enjoying herself. ‘Meanwhile we’ll continue mopping up. See how many of the bredlethits we can track down.’

Chameakegra felt herself bridle at the use of the derogatory term but chose to let it ride. ‘We’ll set up an interim Hydran government to reassure the Hydrans that we will eventually leave them to govern themselves.’

A flood of mauve amusement rushed across Grrndakegra’s crest. ‘How you going to form that government given that the bulk of the politicians were among the first on the list?’

‘There were plenty left,’ Chameakegra replied. ‘We have expertise from every government from all over the planet, more than enough to form a global government. Not all of them were corrupt and useless.’

‘And who will lead this wonderful new institution?’

Chameakegra had thought long and hard about this. Who was fit and proper to lead the Hydrans into a new age? Neff had provided lists of well-suited individuals for all government positions. She certainly did not want to set up a similar structure as had failed in the past? Provide fertile ground for greed, nepotism and corruption to flourish? Or was it possible to create something better, built on idealism and altruism? Could she select the right people for the job? She had thoroughly scrutinised the lists Neff had provided her with and made some decisions. ‘We will place a creative in charge; someone who does not seek glory, power or wealth. The very desire to do the job would make them unelectable. We want someone who does not want to do the job.’

Grrndakegra found that highly amusing. She guffawed out loud.  It sounded to her like a sure recipe for failure. ‘Good luck with that.’ She seemed delighted with the way things were going and displayed no interest in involving herself. It filled Chameakegra with a greater determination.

Chameakegra studied the mail with interest. Was it telling her anything she did not already know?

‘Commander Chameakegra, thank you for keeping me in the loop and furnishing me with updates as to your progress. I fully concur with your strategy.  I do wonder if you haven’t started too early. It would have been better to have the facilities set up and rehabilitation started before the extraction. I’m sure those camps will create trauma that will make the process of restoration more difficult. I am intrigued as to whether these violent and avaricious tendencies are genetically ingrained in the species and whether those tendencies can be rectified. The Hydrans are certainly an interesting race and I quite agree with you that the creativity they exude is something that would be valuable to the Federation. I’m certainly enjoying their music and art. Good luck.’

‘One more thing: Beheggakegri seems very anxious to dissociate me from this experiment. I think he’s up to something. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t placed Commander Grrndakegra there to deliberately sabotage your scheme. Watch your back. Do not worry. I am staying on the case. I am here if you need me. Judge Booghramakegra.’

Surely Grrndakegra would not deliberately do anything too underhand? If that could be proved she’d lose everything. But then there were a thousand ways Grrndakegra could make it difficult without crossing any line. She could easily subvert the entire operation while seeming to be fully on board. Grrndakegra was Beheggakegri’s tool and she knew it. Could she do anything about it though? If Grrndakegra was intent on putting sand in the ointment she could jeopardise everything.

Chameakegra thought that it might be a good idea to check out those camps, get the lunar facilities up and running and press ahead with her strategy. The sooner she could get Grrndakegra away from anything she might cause mischief with the better. Chameakegra really wanted this to work. She was certain that the Hydrans could be rehabilitated. She was even more determined to stop Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra putting a puncture in the plasma field.

The Cleansing 16 – Chapter 6

Posted on by Opher

The original idea behind Judgement was to provide a vehicle to analyse the good and bad aspects of human civilisation. The idea behind The Cleansing was to suggest how the bad stuff could be remedied.

Chapter 6 – The Plan

Chameakegra sat in her quarters concentrating deep into her mind. How could she undo some of the damage done by the extractions? How could she soften Grrndakegra’s hard style? The Hydrans were now familiar with the look of Federation races, particularly Giforians and Drefs. She knew that their features produced terror. Hydran folklore was full of dragons, serpents and scaly worms. To them they appeared like creatures from their nightmares. Was there any way she could counter that? It seemed impossible.

What had been the effect of her first broadcast? The research seemed to suggest that not much had gone in at all. The Hydrans had been in total shock and were completely unreceptive. Neff’s great mind suggested that she should simply repeat the message. Hydrans found repetition reassuring. Psychologically it would help. But Neff intimated that there was no magic cure, no panacea. Sudden exposure to a superior technology always resulted in psychological turmoil. All that could be done was to keep repeating the same message and demonstrate the veracity of it through actions. That took time – a lot of time. Chameakegra took that on board.

The idea of her second broadcast was to put a little more flesh on the bones. She aimed to pick up the same points as last time and build on them.

‘People of Hydra,’ Commander Chameakegra spoke in her most soothing tone. This time she was allowing a close-up of her face taking care not to show her crest which she thought might still be too frightening for Hydrans to stomach. She was working on the principle that the Hydrans had seen the hordes of Giforian and Dref troopers on the street. The time for pretence was over. The best psychological ploy was to be completely transparent, lay out the reality and all the Hydrans to come to terms with what the situation was then they could start to come to terms with it. ‘I am Commander Chameakegra – the officer in charge of this assistance scheme. I am sure that you have been extremely frightened by what has happened. I can fully understand that. I can only repeat that we mean you no harm. What we are doing is in your best interests.’

Chameakegra peered out from billions of homes with a face that she hoped looked sincere. Hydrans had never seen alien races before so it was a big ask to expect apes to interpret saurian expressions and scaly faces were notoriously difficult to read. It was a risk. She pressed on. There was nothing she could do about that. Her scaly face was something they were going to have to get used to. She just hoped they could adjust quickly.

‘I would like to tell you something about us. We are a Federation of intelligent beings from all over the galaxy. Intelligent life is rare and our aim is to assist it to develop and prosper. This is not an invasion so much as an intervention. We are here to assist you to progress.’

Images of polluted areas and wars filled the screen.

‘Our investigations have concluded that action was necessary. You and your planet are teetering on the brink of catastrophe. Wars, violence, social breakdown and environmental disaster have taken you to the brink of disaster. We had no choice but to intervene.’

Chameakegra was hoping that the Hydrans were savvy enough to at least partially accept the truth of what she was saying. After all, she had heard it expressed all over the planet. Even though many of them turned a blind eye to it, or were in denial, most did recognise that things were hanging by a precarious thread.

‘We are briefly taking control of your planet. We have dismantled your military and suspended all forms of government. We have temporarily closed your media. Please do not be concerned. I will explain what we are going to do.’

This was the crux. Could they accept that it was necessary for the Federation to take over the planet? Could they psychologically come to terms with this invasion? She was projecting a pinky beige colour in order not to appear too outlandish. She guessed that a psychedelic face might just push them over the edge.

‘We have completely undone the tribal idea of nations. They will not be reinstated. In due course we will set up a global government which, in the future, will be run by yourselves for the benefit of all Hydrans. There will never again be the need for armies and military forces. There will never again be any more wars.’

Chameakegra thought that explanation was better. Even if they did not agree maybe they could understand the reasoning.

‘As for the members of this interim government we have assembled; we have replaced your democratic system with one based on ability. Instead of electing individuals into office, based on lies, charisma, promises, lust for power and greed, our supercomputer has studied the qualities of all eight billion Hydrans and selected people best suited to carry out the jobs based on their ability and character. All too often your democratic system has elected self-servers, liars, inept fools and thieves. That is largely why you were in the mess you were in. We have replaced the corrupt and ineffective with those most able and best suited to do a good job.’ Her face seemed to crinkle into a smile as she attempted to come across in a more informal manner. ‘Allow me to point out that if you were appointing anybody into an important role you would study their qualifications, experience and interview them to ascertain their views and character in order to select the most appropriate candidate for the role. Governing is the most important job in the world. You would not appoint them through an election.’

Chameakegra was attempting to look serious but benevolent. She wasn’t really certain how that might come across to Hydrans. This was the crux of her speech.

‘So, citizens of Hydra, we have made two moves that may cause you some consternation but which we believe are essential for your progress. We have given you a global government, unifying you under one overarching system and we have placed people of ability and integrity in charge.’

Here, she knew she was treading on some delicate psychological territory. Her investigations had led her to recognise how deep the tribal traits were embedded. Many Hydrans seemed intrinsically patriotic and nationalistic to the point of rabid xenophobic racism. The idea of their nation being done away with altogether would be utterly abhorrent. Would the prospect of there being no more wars be sufficient to bring them on board? The camera zoomed in to focus on her eyes, eyes that were not dissimilar to that of Hydrans, apart from the brightness of their colour, vulnerable eyes that she hoped might project compassion and verity. She hoped that they could see those emotions.

It was time to grasp another thorny issue and clear the table.

‘You will have seen that we have taken away numerous individuals and I am sure this has caused you a great deal of fear. Do not be concerned. We have identified all the people who, for one reason or another, are responsible for the precarious state of your world. These are the people who have displayed malevolent levels of greed, lust for power or violence, or have obvious psychological, emotional and anti-social behaviour traits. I repeat do not be concerned. They will be returned to you unharmed. It was necessary to remove them so that we could carry out the cleansing. They will come back rehabilitated with their empathy and compassion fully restored so that they can perform positive roles in your society. We aim to leave you with a vibrant, happy, well-adjusted and productive society that no longer takes you to the brink of extinction.’

At least it might allay some of their fears and give them hope. She knew their imaginations were probably conjuring up scenes of torture and murder. This might help allay some of those fears though she was aware that she might be reopening wounds and feeding fires. She allowed a reddish tint to spread over the scales of her face, softening it, providing warmth and indicating a positive emotion. It had to be said.

‘We have a clear vision for the future. One that will make you prosperous and happy and enable your progress into a new age of science and technology. The stars await you. After we have restored your government we will overhaul your other institutions so that they function properly and enable your society and culture to reach its potential and assume a leading role in the Federation.’

Providing hope for the future was essential if they were going to progress. She tried to present a sincere expression that she hoped they might be able to decipher. From her experience Hydrans were good at interpreting facial expressions, though the Giforian features were nowhere near as malleable as those of Hydrans.

‘We will take steps to overhaul our industry and energy production so that it is no longer polluting and damaging to the environment. We will clean up your rivers and seas, improve the quality of your soil and air and restore the biosphere to the dynamic state it should be in.’

Chameakegra was confident that this would appeal to a sizeable number of Hydrans and find a majority in favour. Her investigations had shown the state of the environment to be a major concern. Her big eyes shone out hypnotically as she paused between each element. She wanted them to take in the gist of what she was saying even if, in their present state of turmoil, they were unable to retain the detail. This exercise was all about the long, slow process of building trust. Chameakegra herself had to believe. She had to believe one hundred percent that at the end of this process the Hydrans were both capable and worthy of being saved and Hydra had a great future. She could not allow herself to think for an instant that Beheggakegri might get his way, the Hydrans eradicated and all this in vain. Not for a second. She exuded sincerity.

‘We will make education a priority in order that young minds are nurtured and expanded so they can reach their creative best.’

Everyone cared about their kids. Surely this was another important area to emphasise. She resisted the desire to raise her hands to emphasise the words. The last thing that Hydrans needed was to be shown an image of Giforian claws. Not at this stage.

‘We will enable a care system so that the weak are supported and greatly improve your health systems with all manner of preventative and remedial technology. This will enable you to cure many of your present-day maladies, rectify genetic flaws and prevent many diseases that you presently suffer from so that you can all flourish. We will provide treatments to cure your various addictions, addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex and gambling so that your societies will be healthier.’

This too might help to paint a positive vision of what was to come that might win a number of Hydrans over.

‘We aim to give you the means to improve your infrastructure and housing so that the quality of everyone’s lives will improve greatly. When the resources of your planet are more evenly distributed, far less is wasted on destructive warfare, and the innovations on technology and science have been introduced all your lives will be transformed.’

Chameakegra’s image hung there in all its glory. She could only hope that she had done enough. She had tried to sell them a vision of a glowing future. She had to hope that they could absorb it and see the benefits. Could this vision of a fabulous future compensate for the fears and shock of this encounter and upheaval? Time would tell. At least it was a start. She smiled benignly out at them radiating peace and hope.

The picture faded away.

The Cleansing 16 – Chapter 5 continued

Posted on by Opher

I like to ground my Sci-fi in the present time. In this novel I introduced myself, under the Ron Forsythe alias, as a character. That was fun.

The novel itself is an objective view of humanity in which I attempt to dissect the good and the bad and delve into the reasons.

Here’s Chapter 5:

Ron lived on a mixed estate. There were people from all walks of life. He liked to associate with creative people and live in a rural environment. Nature and creativity were important to him, but pleasant surrounds were sought after by many different types of people. Down his street there were people from many professions.

The night was one of those clear, bright nights, the type where the stars are visible as a glimmering scattering of glistening salt on a black velvet cloth. The moon, almost full, lit everything up with its blue light, creating pools of inky shadow. The absence of street lamps enabled the beauty of the scene to be appreciated in full. Ron cherished such nights and probably got to appreciate them more than most. He always worked late at night, when it was quiet and inspiration struck, not finishing until tiredness stilled his fingers on the keyboard and his sponge of a brain had been wrung dry. After shutting down his computer he would often get himself a last cup of coffee and take the dog out for a walk. Woody, named after his idol Woody Guthrie, was a loyal, loving border collie who did not like other dogs. He was wont to get his retaliation in first. Thus it was preferable to take him for walks when other dogs were not around. Ron often remarked that Woody thought outside was permanently dark.

Ron’s writer’s block had lifted and a new storyline had magically coalesced in his head. While strolling down the road towards the lane, lost in thought, mulling over the twists in the plot, he was brought up short by Woody’s sudden aggressive reaction. He had frozen, ears back, hackles up and fur bristling, growling and staring straight ahead. Ron immediately shortened the lead and peered ahead at the moonlit street. If there was another dog they’d be in for a loud barking match, which might not please the neighbours any too well, it being close to three in the morning.

There was no dog. What Woody was seeing was a large black shadow rapidly approaching, accompanied by a deep subdued throbbing. Ron pulled Woody in and grabbed him by the collar as the craft silently passed overhead and hovered a little way down the road. He knew exactly what it was: one of those alien ships. He watched as it seemed to make up its mind and arrived at its destination. It rapidly descended. As soon as it hit the ground large doorways dilated open and a number of lizard troopers spilled out. It was as clear as daylight. Woody barked madly and had to be restrained with all of Ron’s might. The lizards ignored Ron and Woody. They split into two contingents, one group making a beeline for George’s place, the other a little further down, focusing on Jean and Dean’s house. Without hesitation the doors were booted in and they disappeared inside. Ron stood agape, frozen, staring at the scene taking place in front of him while absently trying to calm Woody, patting his head as he lunged at his collar.

Screams could be heard from inside both houses. Within seconds the lizards reappeared, dragging George and Jean to their craft while a desperate Dean yelled, screamed, and pulled at them, trying to free Jean from their clutches. They brushed him aside like one might bat away an annoying wasp. The two were bundled into the craft, the doors dilated shut, and the craft lifted off and was gone, leaving a distraught Dean in its wake. Ron couldn’t quite believe what he had just seen. Apart from a hysterical Dean, now crumpled sobbing in the street, and two splintered doors hanging half open, there was nothing to suggest it had really happened. He shook his head to wake himself up and released the now‑submissive Woody.

Coming out of his trance, Ron rushed forward to comfort the stricken Dean, helping him up while Woody stood watching with his tail wagging. He obviously considered this a much more interesting walk than normal.

Back in Ron’s kitchen the two men were seated at the table, mugs of strong tea in their hands, while a satisfied Woody coiled up in his bed contented. As far as he was concerned the fun was over. Dean was still shaking.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ Ron asked.
Dean shook his head and was about to collapse into a blubbering wreck again. Ron patted his hand.
‘They’ve taken Jean,’ he wailed, unable to say anything more.
‘But why have they taken Jean?’ Ron muttered largely rhetorically, utterly bewildered by the events he had witnessed.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know,’ Dean wailed miserably. He turned to Ron with a face creased in anguish. ‘What will they do to her? Will I see her again?’ With that he descended into a whimpering heap.

Ron did his best to console the man. In truth they hardly knew each other. They moved in very different circles. But they were neighbours, and neighbours looked out for each other.

What was going on out there? Why had they taken Jean and George? They were hardly desperate criminals, were they? Was this the start? Would they be coming for everyone else soon? This was all taking a nasty turn. He put an arm around the sobbing Dean’s shoulder and told him it was OK; it was all going to turn out alright.

Despite the clear instructions that they were to stay in their own homes, the Ashley Arms crew broke the curfew and furtively made their way back to the pub. It felt like a refuge. With no TV or radio to provide news bulletins they had nothing to go by. In their part of town the abductions were few. None of them had actually witnessed an abduction, though they had all seen the alien craft flying back and forth overhead but could not see what was happening. Vague screaming could be heard in the distance — enough to scare them silly.

‘Something’s up,’ Billy observed, peering out of the window at the sky as another alien craft shot past.
‘Come away from that bloody window,’ Nobby the landlord ordered. ‘I don’t want you drawing bloody attention to us.’
Reluctantly Billy pulled himself away and rearranged the curtains.
‘They’re up to something,’ he growled, glaring around at the others.

The kids were having a time of it, racing around the pub, giggling and laughing oblivious to what was going on. There was no school and a new playground. What was not to like? Besides, for some reason they were being given unlimited crisps and pop.

‘Seems there are all sorts going on,’ Foxy remarked, trawling through his phone. All the media was down, but the phones were miraculously still working, and people all over the world were finding ways of evading the censorship and putting up snippets of various scenes of abduction, most of which were very disturbing. Doors were being smashed in and lizards emerging with struggling people. ‘They’re dragging people off.’
‘I think we can see that,’ Cheryl observed cuttingly.

The mood was grim as all of them started scrolling through the disturbing scenes that had begun springing up on their phones. Debbie looked to be on the verge of tears and was trying to hold it together.
‘At least we’ve still got power on,’ Kathy remarked, desperately trying to put a positive slant on things and looking to divert attention onto something else.
‘Where do you think they’re taking them?’ John muttered, glancing up from his phone. The abductions seemed to be taking place all over the world.

‘Who fucking knows,’ Billy growled, scrolling from one distressing scene to another as they popped up on his phone.
‘They seem to be focusing on all the wealthy areas,’ Foxy noted, observing the nature of the houses the lizards were targeting.

Everyone started to check that out. Foxy was right.
‘Right,’ Denby acknowledged, ‘they do.’

‘Do you think they’ll be coming for all of us?’ Charlene put into words what they were all thinking.
‘I don’t reckon so,’ Billy muttered, concentrating on his phone. ‘They look to be picking up all the rich bastards.’
‘Might just be the first phase,’ John remarked chillingly.
‘But what are they doing with them?’ Cheryl wondered.

‘What did that lizard say about it in that broadcast of hers?’ Denby asked, trying to think back to the night before. They’d all been so shocked that much of it hadn’t really gone in.

Everyone stared at Denby as they tried to recall what had been said.
‘I think that lizard said something about them taking away the ones responsible for causing the trouble,’ Debbie said thoughtfully. ‘And that we weren’t to worry. They would be returned unharmed.’
‘Yeah,’ Denby said. ‘I’ll take that with a pinch of salt.’

‘Sounds pretty lame if you fucking ask me,’ Billy muttered. ‘How do they know who’s causing trouble? I bet that’s just an excuse.’
‘It’ll be us next,’ Charlene muttered morbidly.

They all turned her way. The same thoughts were going through their heads.
‘Fucking hell,’ Denby growled, ‘this is a right mess.’

The Cleansing 12 – Chapter 3 continued

Posted on by Opher

In this novel I was using a number of different settings with political intrigue to create tension and interest. There was always an element of where was this heading? What was going to happen? I also had to develop the personalities of the personnel involved.

Sang thought long and hard about the message he was sending to Judge Booghramakegra. It was one thing for Beheggakegri to make his incandescent demands and quite another to deal with a Judge. He could not go in there making demands. He at least knew that, even if Beheggakegri didn’t. Judges were powerful. You didn’t mess with them. It required diplomacy — a concept that didn’t exist in Beheggakegri’s repertoire.
‘Judge Booghramakegra, now that your judgement has been completed regarding the Hydrans, Beheggakegri, Head of UFOR, has requested that I contact you. He is of the opinion that your continued presence might actually impede the operation by deflecting time and attention away from the task of reprogramming the Hydrans so they can be incorporated into the Federation. – Sang – Deputy Leader UFOR.’
He hoped that was respectful enough.

‘Grrndakegra,’ Beheggakegri growled. He dispensed with titles and formalities. ‘Listen, I want that vecal Chameakegra put in her place, you understand? That’s what I’ve put you in there for.’

Commander Grrndakegra bristled. She did not like anybody adopting that superior tone with her. She was used to due deference. She did not need talking to like a child. She knew why she’d been selected for this role. Beheggakegri wanted the Hydrans dispensed with and Chameakegra put back in her box. She worked that out for herself and she could see why. Chameakegra, with her namby‑pamby ways, was an insult to the profession. She’d be glad to take her down with all her highfalutin ideas. What the Federation needed was clear, no‑nonsense policies. They didn’t need crackpot idealism, but the way Beheggakegri was going about this was annoying.
‘I get the message.’ Her reply was terse. Beheggakegri’s overbearing manner was so irritating it put her off wanting to do what he wanted. The less interaction she had with the man the better. She certainly did not need bossing about.

‘As for that drangled Judge, ignore her. We’ll sort her out from this end. This business with these Hydrans should have been settled long ago. They are vermin. You only have to look at what they are doing. They’ve destroyed that planet and they are destroying themselves.’

Commander Grrndakegra did not need telling. She’d spent time scanning through the terrible footage of war and destruction. They were obviously a blight that required eradicating quickly before the disease spread. She really couldn’t see what Chameakegra saw in them. The last thing the Federation needed was a bunch of psychotic apes. She agreed with Beheggakegri even if he was an obnoxious cretin. He just needed to shut the drang up and allow her to get on with the job.

‘Make sure those Hydrans get what they deserve and that vecal fool is made to look the idiot she is,’ Beheggakegri insisted.
‘You can count on me. I’m on the case.’

When the link was broken Grrndakegra had to remain sitting calmly until her equanimity returned to normal and the colours had stopped flowing over her scutes. Beheggakegri always had that effect on her — how that piece of atrbus excrement had got to where he was remained a mystery. Still, there was a job to be done and she was relishing it. She had to put Beheggakegri out of her mind. He might be a pathetic blob of lard but his assessment of Chameakegra and the Hydrans seemed spot on. She did not need commands from the like of him.

‘Sang, please inform Beheggakegri that I have no intention of distancing myself from the fascinating experiment at Hydra. I am intrigued to see how this operation proceeds and feel that it has big implications for future judgements. – Judge Booghramakegra.’ Sang read the reply with a sense of dread. He puffed out his cheeks. Not something he had any desire to pass on to Beheggakegri, but he knew he had to.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books

The Cleansing 10 – end of Chapter 2

Posted on by Opher

As this book is set in the present with the arrival of an alien race with superior technology I wanted to use a group of working class Reform voting characters and their reaction to the arrival of aliens.

The novel deals with the social and political stupidities of human civilisation juxtaposed with the brilliance of our creativity.

This is the end of Chapter 2:

Grrndakegra’s scutes flared yellow with flashes of white. Anger mounted. Chameakegra had outflanked her — inexcusable. ‘Beheggakegri will not like this. Not at all.’

Chameakegra shrugged, sipping her synth with deliberate calm, taking pleasure in Grrndakegra’s discomfort. Petty, perhaps, but satisfying. The Judge held power. Beheggakegri would have to lump it. Yet she knew annoying Grrndakegra could prove costly. The Giforian could wreck things simply by how instructions were carried out.

Grrndakegra sat bolt upright, waves of green and white obvious. ‘You have gone behind our backs.’

‘Not the way I see it,’ Chameakegra simpered, sipping her synth. ‘I have detailed knowledge of these Hydrans. It was necessary to clarify instructions from Beheggakegri. The situation is not black and white.’ She noted Grrndakegra’s disquiet with a degree of pleasure. She had not taken to her at all. The haughtiness was infuriating. But for the mission’s sake she needed control. Annoying Grrndakegra would not help. ‘We must give the Hydrans the best chance of progressing,’ she insisted firmly. ‘Too heavy‑handed and we create predictable failure. Judge Booghramakegra agrees they need all possible assistance. She has decided to retain an active role throughout.’

Chameakegra left that thinly veiled threat dangling.

Grrndakegra’s fangs clicked, tail twitching as white anger coursed through her crest and scales. Beheggakegri would not like this. This was not how it was meant to proceed. She slammed her beaker down so hard half the contents leapt into the air. ‘I will discuss this with Beheggakegri.’

The coming of the aliens was not so much an invasion as a take‑over.

One moment the skies were clear, the next they were full of alien craft. No warning. No sign on even the most sophisticated radar systems. They arrived in an instant, leaving no time to react.

Every military site across the globe was seized at once. All weapons nullified. No shots fired. Government offices, political bodies, media outlets — occupied. The invasion was peaceful and instant, or at least as peaceful as possible.

The shock was profound. In seconds the Hydrans went from ordinary routines to victims of alien occupation. Disbelief collapsed into hysteria. Chaos was far from peaceful.

Grrndakegra found it immensely amusing. Hydrans rushed like headless giffors, cowering, gathering offspring, crashing vehicles in panic. Everyday rules evaporated. Traffic lights, speed limits, even which side of the road to drive on — discarded. Cities gridlocked, screams and wails prevailing.

In full regimental costume, Grrndakegra appeared on every network and device. Speaking via her comulator in every language and dialect, she instructed the population to go home and await further orders. They were now under Federation control. As an afterthought, she reassured them they were safe.

The sight of a huge iridescent reptile giving orders did little to reassure. Panic intensified. Mobs rampaged, buildings burned, vehicles overturned, shops looted. Fear turned to anger, destruction the outlet.

From her vantage on the Quorma, Grrndakegra shook her head. Were these beings truly candidates for Federation entry? She flapped her crest in disbelief and barked orders.

More craft landed, troops spilling onto streets armed with weapons that stunned and immobilised. Order was restored, though the presence of reptilian aliens with guns did little to calm terror.

Grrndakegra announced she would address every parliament and governing institution that evening. Again she reassured them: no harm intended, only assistance toward a better existence. In the meantime, they were to return home and wait. Few were reassured.

Hydrans struggled to believe giant lizards wielding guns meant peace. Where was the army? Where was defence? Why was nobody coming to their rescue? Communications networks flooded with hysteria. It was the end of the world.

By evening, calm returned. No signs of violence, mobs dispersed, alien troops on guard. Rioters had been stunned and carted off, not killed. The aliens weren’t pillaging. They were keeping order.

Escape was impossible. Transport hubs shut down, highways closed. People gathered kin, huddled around media devices, waiting. Politicians silent, news frozen. All they could do was wait.

Many turned to churches, mosques, temples, praying for divine intervention. Most simply went home. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

As time passed, hope flickered. Perhaps these reptiles meant no harm. Not that there was choice. Military forces were no match. The Hydrans had been overpowered without a bullet fired.

There were no choices left. They waited.

Ron sat at his computer, trying to conjure a character, an event, a scene — anything. He was beginning to think he had writer’s block. The synapses weren’t firing. He desperately needed something to spark a chain reaction, the torrent of ideas that usually toppled inside his head like electric dominoes. Not today. Not this week. Not last week. His head was empty.

Perhaps he should give up on a new book and edit one already produced. Desperate. He disliked editing. Unlike the satisfaction of imagination flowing onto the page, editing was a chore.

Worse still, Liz had urged him for years to promote his published books. That idea filled him with horror. Wasting writing time on tedious commercial exercise? No. If nothing happened soon, he would have to send another package to agents and publishers. They could do the promotion. Surely he had proved himself? He was a proven writer. There was a market. All he needed was an agent or publisher to handle the tiresome tasks and leave him to write.

Except nothing was happening. No epic waited to burst out of his chest like a xenomorph. Nothing to write about.

That’s when Ron glanced out the window and saw an armada of alien craft descending from the sky.

‘What the fuck??’ exclaimed Billy Smythe, mouth open, eyes wide, pint spilling over his lap unnoticed. Everyone stared out the pub windows at the strange craft materialising above.

‘Fuck,’ Charlene mumbled.

‘Fuck!’ John, Debbie, Foxy, Kathy, Denby, and Cheryl exclaimed in unison.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Denby gasped, staring at the gigantic craft hovering in the sky directly above them. You could always count on Denby to be more articulate than anyone else.

It had to be some kind of stunt. Surely it had to be a stunt.

But the silence in the Ashley Arms told another story. No laughter, no banter, no clinking of glasses. Just the stunned hush of ordinary people watching the impossible unfold.

Above them, the alien leviathans hung motionless, blotting out the heavens. Hydra had changed forever.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278910817: Books

Judgement: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798267858489: Books

The Cleansing 9 – Chapter 2 continued

Posted on by Opher

This novel provided me with the opportunity to examine human society and the crazy way we have been behaving. Questions we have to ask ourselves are whether violence, greed and lust for power are embedded in our DNA or learnt behaviour. Can we become civilised or must we always have Trumps, war and Musks?

Chapter 2 continued:

Chameakegra reread the judge’s mail with mixed emotions as her initial elation receded. She was retained. She still had a role. She could oversee the operation. That was the best news, particularly as she knew it would not sit well with Beheggakegri. She allowed herself a chuckle.

But a joint command? Could that work? She found it hard at the best of times to work with others. Graffa would attest to that. Her second‑in‑command was the most even‑tempered Minorian in existence, yet even he had found it nigh impossible at times to work with her. She knew it. That posed the question: could she work with another commander on a joint project — particularly one in which she had been so deeply involved and fully responsible? What if they did not agree? Who took control? Did either have a veto? She had severe reservations. Even so, a blue wave of satisfaction flowed across her scutes. She was staying on Hydra. That could not be bad.

Then she thought about her crew, the ones who had chosen to remain. She was exhausted, and she knew they were too. The extended assessment had drained them all. She was buoyed by emotional involvement, but what about them? Could they summon the energy and enthusiasm required? Many had families and commitments. They had already given far more than intended. The expedition was far longer than planned, and they were psychologically prepared for return. The news they were staying on for another indeterminate period had gone down like a greffotum’s bum. Could they pick themselves up to do a good job? She thought not. That needed addressing.

Judge Booghramakegra, I am delighted to assume a joint leadership role in this venture and am sure my knowledge will be of use. However, my crew are exhausted. Many have chosen to stay on out of loyalty. However, they have been away from home for an extended period due to the burden of the added assessment. I would suggest we arrange a shuttle to send home all those who wish to return and replenish the crew. — Commander Chameakegra

Chameakegra pasted Beheggakegri into the exchange but refrained from informing the crew until she heard back. There was no need to unsettle them. Graffa was the only one she took into her confidence. They discussed the situation at length. He too was torn. His larvae were nearing metamorphosis back on Gestor, and she knew he wanted to be with his partner for that enormously important transition. Yet he wanted to stay.

Two messages arrived in quick succession:
That sounds like a sound proposition. I will inform the Head of UFOR that you will assume joint leadership on the execution of the project and I will ask him to arrange replacements for the crew who wish to return. — Judge Booghramakegra
This is preposterous. We cannot have two commanders on a mission like this. We require clear leadership. — Beheggakegri, UFOR

Chameakegra regarded the two messages with satisfaction. In matters such as these the Judge held sway. This was a fait accompli. A wave of blue satisfaction ran over her scutes at the thought of how irate this must have made Beheggakegri, but it quickly faded to green and yellow as she considered the implications of upsetting him further. He was a powerful enemy. There was no telling what trouble he could cause.

Her claws clicked across the comulator:
I am pleased to assume joint command and look forward to working with the Commander the Head of UFOR appoints. I am certain we can bring it to a suitable conclusion. — Commander Chameakegra

She pasted Beheggakegri into her reply, then set her mind to informing the crew of the changes in plans and providing them with options. She urged them to take up the offer of leave to be with their families, thanked them for a job well done, and wished them well.

Another thought occurred. Perhaps this was the moment to broach her other idea. She quickly rattled off another message to Judge Booghramakegra:
As the nature of Hydran minds is yet to be fully understood and the positive effects of the rehabilitation programmes have yet to be assessed, I would suggest we hold back on the extermination programme. It is possible we might rehabilitate them too.

She paused before sending. This time she refrained from pasting Beheggakegri in. She did not want him clawing into this nest of kiddgers.

Everything had been buffed to perfection. Cleaning bots had worked overtime, staff likewise. All immaculate in full dress regalia, assembled in a welcoming committee.

Commander Chameakegra presided, standing to the fore ready to greet her counterpart. In bytes the two commanders were on a par. In practice, parity would be hard to achieve. First impressions mattered.

As host on her own turf, Chameakegra was fully prepared. Her best dress uniform, usually reserved for the highest ceremonial events, accentuated her physique — a Giforian female in her prime. Extended shoulder pads broadened her frame, the low‑cut back revealed vertebral spurs, and the cut‑away front flaunted her large ventral scutes. With crest fully extended, insignia on display, and scutes flowing with iridescent sheen, she presented an impressive figure. Her forked iridescent blue tongue flicked over her scaly lips in anticipation. She was ready for Grrndakegra.

The massive H‑craft, the size of a city, emerged through the maw of hyperspace precisely to the nanosecond. Even with shields deployed, it was perfectly visible to Neff’s surveillance equipment. The vast sister ship slid close, Commander Grrndakegra’s Quorma drawing alongside so airlocks aligned — a masterclass in docking. The two monster craft dwarfed the shuttle craft lurking nearby. A sinuous connecting tunnel deployed, and within seconds they had docked.

The portal dilated. Commander Grrndakegra strode through with her entourage in tow. Once inside the Neff she halted, haughtily surveying the crew. She too cut an impressive figure, matching Chameakegra in every respect. The deep orange of authority cloaked her crest and scutes. Her eyes roved up and down Chameakegra with arrogant air.

Chameakegra thought she detected a faint tinge of mauve amusement on the Commander’s plates, as if she saw the charade as a game, as if she were above it all.

Chameakegra stepped forward to rattle talons, her eyes taking in the stern‑faced entourage of reptilian Achec and Giforian, with the odd Dref and Jerb. She began the formalities, welcoming them to the Neff, introducing her second, Graffa the Minorian amphibian, then proceeding through the department heads. She noted that the presence of mammalian Jerbs, Marlan avians, and Solarian amphibia seemed to spark more waves of mauve. It made her keenly aware that the Quorma’s denizens were predominantly reptilian. Was that chance?

With formalities complete, the Quorma crew dispersed to be entertained by their counterparts, and Chameakegra took Grrndakegra to her quarters.

Grrndakegra took a pexi without being offered and declined a beaker of synth, commandeering the servo to choose an aromatic juice instead.

Chameakegra sipped her synth and took the initiative. Alone now, the vying for position was inevitable. As host she had the upper hand. She detailed their assessment and findings on Hydra, expounding on the many creative virtues of the Hydrans. Grrndakegra sat back, perfectly relaxed, studying her intently but not engaging with the issues raised. She let Chameakegra proceed without interruption. Only when the report concluded did she deign to speak.

‘My mission is quite clear,’ Grrndakegra fixed Chameakegra with crystal green eyes. ‘I have been charged to take control of the planet. There are Hydrans allocated for extermination, others for rehabilitation. The remainder are to be reorganised into a more harmonious system. When those under rehabilitation are deemed suitable for reintroduction — or irredeemable — they will be reintroduced or exterminated. Once the planet has settled into its improved arrangement, there will be a period of embedding followed by further judgement. On that basis the Hydrans will either be granted probation before Federation entry or eradicated as pests. Isn’t that the essence of the orders we have both received?’

Chameakegra listened with mounting alarm at the emotionless exposition. Yes, it was precisely what they had been ordered to do. It followed Judge Booghramakegra’s instructions and came directly from Beheggakegri. But the way Grrndakegra presented it — as a sequence of cold facts — seemed to predict inevitable failure.

She sipped her synth and met Grrndakegra’s gaze full on, determined not to be intimidated. ‘Yes, that is what we have been instructed to do,’ she replied coolly. ‘But I have worked with these Hydrans for some time. They are highly emotional creatures. The way we approach this will determine whether we succeed or fail. Judge Booghramakegra has appointed us joint commanders and asked that the process be carried out with minimum trauma for Hydra’s inhabitants.’

Grrndakegra shrugged, scutes tinged yellow with annoyance. ‘We’ll see what Beheggakegri has to say about that.’

Chameakegra ignored the jibe. Judge Booghramakegra was in charge. Enough said.

Grrndakegra eyed her with a calculating stare, sipping her juice. She had not come all this way to play second flubert. ‘I do not view this exercise as one of success or failure,’ she remarked calmly, lounging back in her pexi. ‘Either outcome is acceptable. It is up to the Hydrans. They are either worthy of incorporation or not. If they cannot progress, they deserve eradication. That is not success or failure. That is genetics and psychology.’

‘No,’ Chameakegra protested, involuntary flashes of white crossing her scutes, ‘the way we approach this will determine how the Hydrans react.’ This was not beginning well.

Grrndakegra sipped her juice, mauve amusement more evident now. She studied Chameakegra’s emotions with detached smugness, seeing weakness. ‘I shall require a base for a rehabilitation unit,’ she stated, ignoring Chameakegra’s words. ‘My experts suggest we set up the facility within the lunar satellite. I have brought specialists to handle that.’

Chameakegra nodded, eyes fixed on the Giforian.

‘I trust you have the details of the Hydrans selected for extermination and rehabilitation. We shall need to extract them. I have the military means for that.’

‘We have the lists and the whereabouts of the individuals,’ Chameakegra reassured her. She calmly sipped her synth, scutes distinctly green. This was not going as she had hoped. She could see Beheggakegri’s claw in it, setting her up to fail. ‘I will assist in setting up the rehabilitation facilities in the lunar satellite.’ She paused to compose herself. ‘However, I have been in contact with Judge Booghramakegra. She has agreed we should pause regarding the group earmarked for extermination. They are to be afforded a stay of execution pending psychological tests. I will forward the protocols to your team. She wants a report on whether this group, despite extreme symptoms, might also be receptive to rehabilitation.’