The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission

by Raymond F. Klein

  Entry thrusters fired and the cruiser started to enter the atmosphere. The friction started to build up. The speed increased. Genghis updated their status as they went in.

  “We’re going through the thermosphere, 250 miles from the surface.”

  The top of the cruiser started to glow red, then as the speed increased even more it changed to an orange white.

  “Now traveling through the mesosphere, approximately fifty-three miles from the surface.”

  The top of the cruiser was now glowing white; the heat reflectors doing their job of protecting the occupants. The vibration was minimal and the white glow was visible through the front windows. Then the glow started to fade.

  “We are now in the stratosphere, 31 miles from the surface; speed 18,000. Righting the cruiser.”

  Aft bottom thrusters fired again, sending the stern down and under while the bow came up and over, completing the pivot. Bottom bow thrusters fired, bringing the cruiser back to a level trajectory.

  “Right then,” Trent said. “Now that we’re out of orbit we can go ahead and replicate the exterior and cockpit of the cruiser to resemble an ordinary human wheeled auto-mo-bile.”

  Genghis activated the computer to start the transformation. The outside of the IPF cruiser began to glow in a light blue aura that enveloped the ship. The color of the cruiser changed from a flat gray to a bright white. The length and width began to shorten. Metal alloys morphed into new shapes. The front directional thrusters moved closer and became four round headlights. Underneath the newly formed headlights a chrome grill, resembling the gaping maw of a catfish, materialized within a chrome bumper. Aft thrusters changed from rectangles to four red round tail lights. The bottom became a chassis with a transmission housing, drive shaft, front and rear axles. The top heat reflector slowly morphed into a white canvas top. The ancient Native American symbol of the Thunderbird slowly emerged on the front nose of the newly transformed cruiser, its turquoise body glistening in the sun's light.

  Inside the cockpit, computers became analog dials within a red dashboard. Underneath Jeff Trent and Genghis Khan, the pilot and co-pilot seats became reupholstered from black and gray to a two-toned red and white. In front of Trent, his computer systems formed into a shaft and from the tip of the shaft the steering wheel emerged.

  With the exterior and interior transformation complete, Genghis looked around the newly formed IPF cruiser, “I’m always amazed at how well this thing works,” he said glancing around. “This is a very nice human auto-mo-bile cockpit.”

  “Yes,” Trent replied. “Cozy, isn’t it? This dial in the middle is called a ‘speed-o-meter’ and indicates our speed. This one on the left indicates our fuel consumption. This is a timepiece, and this sphere in front of me is the directional device. You turn it and the front wheels correspond with the turn, pointing the nose in the direction you wish to go.”

  “Very simplistic.” Genghis said, not having as much training with human automobiles as Trent had. “Refresh my memory, what are the pedals for again?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The pedals,” he motioned with his head, “on the floor.”

  “Oh, yes. One accelerates the auto-mo-bile and one stops it.”

  “Which is which?” Genghis asked, trying to remember.

  A moment of hesitation and Trent replied, “The skinny one accelerates, the fat one stops.”

  “Don’t get them confused.”

  “Oh, no that won’t happen,” Trent responded. “I’ve spent a total of forty-five hours in the simulator and have become very proficient in the operations of many human auto-mo-biles.”

  “That’s very good,” Genghis said. “Because I’m sure human canines aren’t allowed to operate auto-mo-biles.” He then turned and spoke to the cruiser. “Mainframe online.” A hologram of the cruiser's computer console appeared around him. Just as it was before the replication. The Doberman started accessing several computer readouts.

  “The navigation computer has given us an approximate entry grid.” Genghis said. “It will get us within several miles of IPPT 964.” He started to input information. “Coordinates are set. The computer has selected a deserted stretch of thoroughfare for us to land on. Speed, still 18,000.” Genghis looked up from the displays and at Trent. “I suggest we land as soon as possible. We can’t be electronically detected, but we are in visual range.”

  “Well, then,” Trent replied. “Let's proceed. Lower the gears.”

  Touching several prompts on the screen, Genghis activated the computer and four shiny black Goodyear tires with white sidewalls unfolded from beneath the cruiser and locked into place.

  “Gears lowered and locked.”

  “Right then,” Trent said as he reached up with his left hand and turned a small silver key.

  The 460 cubic inch human combustion replicated engine roared to life. Trent revved the engine, “This is exhilarating, to operate a real auto-mo-bile and not a simulator.”

  “Well, that’s instilling a lot of confidence,” Genghis said.

  “Not to worry,” Trent said with elation. He reached up with his right hand to the steering column and moved a small lever as he said, “I’m very qualified. My instructor was very pleased with how well I did. And you know, I even made up a joke. See right here, the little human symbol ‘D’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It stands for ‘Dat-A-Way.’ ” He pointed forward, then laughed hysterically.

  Genghis just rolled his eyes and turned back to his computers.

  Trent threw the car into gear and pushed the pedal (the skinny one) to the floor. The little needle on the analog speedometer shot all the way to the right to the number 140. The transmission engaged and the back wheels started to spin rapidly. Aft thrusters disguised as tail lights fired as directed by the navigational computer and the cruiser started to descend.

  “The thoroughfare is coming into view,” Genghis announced. “All systems are normal. Speed has increased to 18,500.” They could feel the g-forces pushing them into the back of their seats.

  “I see it,” Trent said. “Very long and deserted, we should be able to land unnoticed.”

  At one thousand feet above the surface the front thrusters fired automatically in three second bursts, considerably slowing the cruiser's speed.

  “Taking manual control,” Trent announced.

  Genghis Khan made some adjustments to his computers and said, “You have control of the cruiser.”

  Trent placed his hands firmly at nine and two on the steering wheel. “Starting our approach.” He guided the cruiser toward the deserted two lane highway.

  The ground rushed up quickly to meet them. The landscape was going by at such a high rate of speed that trees and telephone poles were but a blur. While Trent concentrated on piloting the cruiser, Genghis kept him apprised of all critical information.

  “Rate of descent looking good. Altitudes, right about on.”

  Trent slightly turned the steering wheel so the nose of the cruiser lined up with the cracked and weather beaten yellow stripes on the road in front of them.

  “200 feet, 4 ½ down.”

  Trent fired the front thrusters, once again decreasing the cruiser's speed. Genghis continued with the updated information.

  “5 ½ down, 9 forward, you're looking good.”

  Trent kept his foot on the pedal thinking that the floor would give away if he pushed any harder. He wanted to make sure that the back spinning tires matched closely to their speed on landing. What they couldn’t hear was the double sonic boom that followed them.

  “40 feet, down 2 ½ ,” Genghis looked out his side window. “Picking up some dust.”

  With a slight bump, the back tires touched down with a squeal and a puff of white blue smoke.

  “Contact light!”

  Trent eased the nose of the cruiser down until the front tires made contact with another squeal and kicked up little bits of asphalt and loose rock as they sped down the cracked and potholed road. Th
ey traveled for several miles while Trent gently applied the brakes, just as he was taught in the simulator. 140, 120, 80, then 40 miles per hour. He finally slowed and brought the cruiser to a stop in the middle of the desolate roadway.

  Exhausted, they both sat quietly for a moment. Trent then put the replicated automobile in park. They both methodically reached up and released the clamps for the convertible top from the header above the front windshield. The canvas top started to fold in an accordion-like fashion, the trunk lid slowly opened. The little electric motor slid the top over the back seat and then quietly tucked it away into the trunk.

  The cool morning air hit them. It was early on Earth, and the sun was three minutes away from its arrival. The eastern sky was aflame in a bright orange and purple hue. To their right, the distant mountains were covered with the colors of autumn. A flock of birds flying high above in a ‘V’ formation could be heard calling to each other. Morning breezes rustled through the branches of the nearby trees sending leaves cascading to the ground. The billowing cumulus clouds on the horizon reflected the yellow and orange shafts of light as the sun started to peek over the horizon.

  The morning light reached Jeff Trent and Genghis Khan as they sat in their human automobile. They sat there taking in the view of this new and interesting world.

  Trent reached into his inside coat pocket and retrieved a pair of black Ray Ban Wayfarers. He put the sunglasses on to shade his eyes from the morning sun. He looked around in wonder then, through his nose, breathed in deep and let the cool morning air fill his lungs. He exhaled, then said, “So, this is Earth.”

  With quiet reverence Genghis replied, “Yes, this is Earth.”

  Trent was silent for a moment. Then blurted out, “Not all that impressive!”

  “No, not really,” Genghis replied.

  Chapter Five

  This was not the first time an Interstellar Police Force vehicle had replicated and landed on Earth.

  Eight months earlier, at the IPF headquarters on Ashlar, the largest of the three populated planets in their solar system, received a garbled message from the Interstellar Police Prison Transfer vehicle 964. There was an incident. Prisoners had escaped from their holding cells. There was an exchange of gunfire. The guards were outnumbered and about to be overrun. Then, the message went dead. They immediately started tracking the prison transfer ship.

  Each transfer ship was equipped with an on-board tracking device just for this reason. When they started tracking IPPT 964 it was far off course and traveling at a high rate of speed away from any known populated world. The call went out and every available cruiser in the force was dispatched to intercept.

  Roughly two and a half hours after they received the garbled message, the tracking device mysteriously and inexplicably stopped transmitting. This was an impossibility. Tracking devices were always hidden somewhere within a transfer vehicle. The only way one could be found was with the ship's schematics. And if this was the way the prisoners on 964 found it, it only meant one thing. Someone on the force had helped them. An immediate investigation was launched. And by the time the first IPF cruiser reached the last known position of Interstellar Police Prison Transfer vehicle 964, it was long gone.

  The massive search went on for months. Photos of the eight escapees were distributed throughout the galaxy. Rewards were posted for their capture. All media outlets flooded the airways with photos, descriptions, and names. Leads came in on the whereabouts of the escapees and that of the missing guards, but to no avail.

  The Interstellar Police Force used every resource available to them. They consulted and studied star charts and utilized computer models, taking into account the fuel supply on IPPT 964, it’s last known direction, and the speed it was traveling. They came to a conclusion that determined approximately where the transfer ship should be, if it had not made any changes to its heading. And if it had, which was most likely, the search area would be staggering; a circumference of trillions of miles.

  They worked around the clock on the investigation. Thirty hours a day, eight days a week. And nothing.

  Cheralet Commons was right out of the university with a degree in criminology. Finding a full-time position at the Interstellar Police Force headquarters on Ashlar was a daunting process, so, to get her foot in the door, she accepted an internship as a researcher.

  She had been on the night shift now for five months. As with everyone else on the force, she threw herself into the investigation of the missing transfer ship. Late one night as she was going over the files of possible routes, she thought back to her History of Planets class in her first year at college. A boring class, but she did remember one particular lecture. The professor was talking about a primitive world in a small galaxy. Unfortunately, he lectured that all information on this world was lost in The Great Fire of 4045.

  So, she thought, what would it hurt? She started inputting as much information as she could remember about this long forgotten planet into her research computer, but got nowhere. Then, with a late night call to her old professor, she was able to add crucial information. And to her surprise her theory held up. She checked and rechecked her calculations. She took everything into consideration – the ship's last known position, it's speed, it's fuel – and theorized that there was a small chance that the escapees could have made it to that particular galaxy.

  That morning, Cheralet stayed after her shift and presented her research to the lead investigators. Many of the investigators had never heard of this galaxy and its one populated planet. But all theories were taken very seriously. So, they took her information and pointed all their long range sensors toward a star-filled pinprick area in space, located the galaxy, then found the small world. And sure enough, they detected the faint signature of ionized particles. Ionized particles way too advanced for this world. The ionized particles from the exhaust system of IPPT 964 as its power plant transitioned from vacuum of space to atmosphere as it entered the planet's orbit.

  They were elated. Finally this long nightmare would soon be over. The mission was planned to enter this new world, find and apprehend the prisoners.

  This was by no means an easy task. The way they had always introduced themselves in the past to other worlds was first with radio transmissions. Then after many months of communications and letting the new world adjust to the fact that there were others out there, they would plan on a meeting.

  This couldn’t be done, because this world was not psychologically ready for the overwhelming reality of other life out there in the Cosmos. And time was of the essence.

  This was hotly debated among principal members of the three main planets. Some thought the Earth should be prepared for such a visit. But others protested, asking how could they even comprehend introducing themselves with a speech like,

  “Greeting humans, we come in peace and have traveled several million miles to bring you technology and hope.

  And, oh! By the by, eight of our worst criminal psychopaths have escaped upon your world. - Sorry about that!”

  So, it was decided that it would be in the best interest of the human race to enter unannounced. They gathered as much information on the human race as possible. Which wasn’t much, since The Great Fire of 4045. The all-volunteer crew of two viewed and studied the one and only folder that they had on this race. And after several weeks, they were ready.

  The vehicle was chosen and well stocked. The coordinates were set, a date of departure picked, and the covert mission was a go.

  And for her brilliant work, Cheralet Commons was awarded the highest commendation available, and a full-time position.

  On the day shift.

  Chapter Six

  Jeff Trent and Genghis Khan surveyed the area for a few moments and then with a verbal command Genghis turned off the holographic image of his computer console.

  “Well then,” Trent announced, “we might as well get going.” Genghis got up and jumped into the back bench seat. Trent opened his door and stepped out, then folded
down the back of his bucket seat so he could enter the back seat easily. Genghis reached up with his paw and pulled down the back cushion of the bench seat to reveal the metallic stairway leading to the lower decks, just as it was before the replication. Genghis descended the stairs followed by Trent.

  They both entered the science lab. Trent walked to the center table and started to gather handheld devices and paperwork into a large duffel bag. Genghis walked to a computer console, hopped up on his hind legs and placed his front paws on the counter. He started to access the computers files.

  “The nav com did an excellent job,” Genghis said. “We’re close. I’m picking up a large reading of plasma. Approximately twenty-five miles northeast of our present position.”

  Trent looked up from what he was doing and asked, “How much plasma?”

  “Much more than the normal output. The transfer ship must have a breach in its power plant.”

  “What’s the percentage of the output?” Trent asked, a little alarmed.

  “Thirty-two percent. Well under the harmful exposure level.” He looked over his shoulder toward Trent, “But, we’ll have to contain that before we scuttle her.”

  “Agreed,” Trent said. “Let's go ahead and load up. We have to be prepared for the fact that some of the escapees are still with the vehicle.”

  “Roger that,” Genghis said, as he hopped off from the console and proceeded to the armory with Trent. The exterior and cockpit of the cruiser were replicated to resemble a human automobile. But the interior decks below were left just as they were.

  The armory door slid open revealing a ten-foot-by-twelve-foot room bristling with weapons of all makes and models mounted to the walls. Weapons such as the MK 101 Auto Laser, a fully automatic weapon equipped with rapidly spinning multi-barrels. When one of the five barrels rotated to the firing position it spewed forth a foot long beam of coherent radiation. With a rechargeable internal power source and a rate of fire of 2,500 laser blasts per minute, the MK was a formidable weapon.