The Embryo of the Star

by Elberto V Badon

  “The space force would compress this cosmic bubble and transmit it toward the center of the Earth. . .. Let’s assume that the elastic property of the Earth failed; still the Earth wouldn't disintegrate because of the exterior forces acting on the space barrier. But this space shield is not a guarantee that the Earth is always indestructible. As I told you, the Earth is a rudderless planet. Only the time element can determine its future. Once it has collided with another body-say Mars-then the space jacket shall be first to be crushed,” Mark explained.

  The doctor rushed forward and took a piece of chalk and said, “Based on the free body diagram of the planet, there are two dominant dynamic forces acting on the Earth; one is the pressure exerted by the spheroid or underneath the Earth crust, and the second is the compressive stress transmitted from space towards the Earth crust. They are acting in equilibrium. The size of the Earth’s shell depends upon the maximum power generated by the spheroid, but once this spheroid fails to deliver the needed energy or becomes completely impotent, then it can be a bad omen for the planet Earth, which could not escape the gravitational collapse! That is, the Earth shall be compressed; water shall evaporate once it comes in contact with the overflowing magmas. There would be disequilibrium of major forces. The Earth shall shrink, considerably disintegrate and shall be transformed into numerous powerless asteroids.”

  “You’re exactly right, Doctor; if this scenario comes first, then it will be much worse than the anticipated collision with Mars. Because our scientists on the Earth can easily determine when the collision will take place, they’ve ample time to abandon Earth. Whereas this gravitational collapse scenario, nobody knows when it will come. It would be a complete disaster.”

  They didn't notice that a parish priest was behind them, listening to their discussion.

  “Don’t be scared, men of science! . . . What was written shall come to pass. Behold! The old Earth shall come to pass, and the younger one will come. The Earth shall be born again!” said Father Fiumicelli. “That's very encouraging, Father. I do hope that what you’ve said shall be fulfilled,” said Mark.

  “Have faith, my son; remember that the Anointed One said he could destroy the temple in a wink of an eye and rebuild it in three days,” the theologian replied.

  “Your religious stories, Father, are fantastically superb and dwarf some of the best science fiction,” remarked Dr. Kazawizki. “Thank you very much, Mark. We don't have time to lose; it’s time to prepare your expedition.” Dr. Kazawizki smiled and shook Mark's cold hand.

  XII

  Nuclear Virus

  The chancellor had ordered that all documents pertaining to the lost planet be made public, including his pocket-size diary written during the last days of the beleaguered planet. While the expedition was being prepared, Lady Khinna gave Mark a newly printed copy of the chancellor’s diary. Mark opened the first page, which read:

  1400 Avenue N

  Apartment 7, Brooklyn,

  NY 11230, USA Time: 6:00 AM.

  Dear Diary,

  I felt dead tired last night after that sleepy anti-nuke demonstration in front of the UN building yesterday afternoon, which drew a sparse crowd of about a thousand peace crusaders and, in my honest-to-goodness opinion, was another dismal setback. The UN chief had boasted about his successfully initiated peace accord among the nuclear-producing nations, banning the productions of all nuclear weapons, effective immediately. He declared to the whole world that the time had come for the Earth to be safe from possible nuclear catastrophe, but our group contested the celebrated agreement. We pressed for the immediate destruction of all nuclear weapons. Unfortunately, only a very few peace-loving souls responded to our call.

  Early this morning while I was sipping from a cup of coffee, my cellular phone rang. It was our energetic leader of the peace crusader, Ruben Caloughsen, who was on holiday was calling from Tulum, Mexico. He asked me if I was aware of the tragic news early this morning. I told him that I know nothing because I’d just woken up from deep sleep. He suggested that I turn on my TV, which I did. What greeted me was the shocking news that millions of people died due to the nuclear explosion in northern China. “God!" I shouted in my room. I felt my heart pounding very fast. Ruben told me to stay calm. I suggested that we encourage the people to pour into the streets and march to the embassies of nuclear-possessing countries. He commended me for my heroic idea. But he had another agenda; he told me to call up all the staffers of our organization to assemble in my pad in the late afternoon.

  At 4:00 P.M.

  One by one the peace crusaders entered my suite. About thirty staff members whose ages ranged from twenty to forty-five, about a quarter female. Each one had different tales to tell. One lady nurse said that many hospitals were jam-packed with hundreds of cardiac patients. And the most common account was of their difficulties in driving through major thoroughfares, which were occupied by protesting mobs. Then Ruben Caloughsen showed up with three large, heavy suitcases, his pale face sweating. He motioned to us to take it easy and urged us to join hand in hand for the continuity of the human race. We would find special people all over the land and persuade these individuals to join the journey, but if they rejected us, he encouraged us to use force. even to the extent of killing any one of the potential candidates if necessary and freezing their brains in liquid nitrogen.

  Everybody faltered regarding this strange plan. But Ruben isn’t the type of guy who is easily discouraged by a cool reception. He was very persistent. He opened the three large suitcases, which to our complete surprise were filled with bundles of green bills, all in hundred-dollar denominations, and announced seriously, “Here . . . this shall be our secret weapon to reach our goal. Unfortunately, this shall become worthless in the next few weeks.” He said further, “It’s a donation from our philanthropic supporters. It takes our individual supreme sacrifices before we reach our goal. Forget your loved ones!” So we started to believe that he meant business. He instructed us regarding our individual assignments. Some were told to go to Europe, the Middle East, Africa, Russia, Asia, Australia, and Latin America, with detailed instructions and the pick-up point, and forewarned that in a few days’ international flights might be canceled, so there was no time to lose, he stressed.

  When most left, only few of us stayed, among us Wilson Luster, Tung Sawmill, Don Zapanta, the pretty lady named Therese King, and, of course, Mr. Ruben Caloughsen.

  Second day

  We flew to Florida by solar-powered chartered plane. At first I got the impression that maybe Ruben had arranged with some military top brass to snatch some of the newly developed highly sophisticated spacecraft the scientists claimed could perform on a par with the saucer-shaped UFOs. But I was wrong, because we boarded a six-seater plane in Miami and flew towards the Azores. I made my guess again: maybe he had an eye on the flashy European spaceships that had successfully made a fortune chartering tourist trips in outer space, or the Russian Cosmo-spaceships, which also roamed into the outer space, and of course the fancy Japanese spaceships that put the Land of the Rising Sun in the forefront of tourism.

  A few hours passed; I noticed that the route indicator showed that we had covered half of the Atlantic Ocean. I informed Ruben regarding our present position. He answered that we were approaching our destination. It made me nervous because there was no sign of habitable land ahead.

  A moment later, Ruben motioned to our pilot, Tung Sawmill, to glide slowly to the shallow saline water. A few hundred yards away, I saw some protruding boulders dotting the calm ocean. Ruben instructed us to attach the oxygen tanks to our back. I changed from my casual pants and shirt into a colorful divers’ spandex bodysuit.

  As soon as the plane made its successful touchdown, Ruben dived first into the crystal-clear water. I saw him sneak to the coral reefs and disappeared. We followed him; then we saw a wide, dark portal surrounded with exquisite ornamental sea polyps. Then we motioned to one another as to whom should enter first, but no one was brave enough to mak
e the first move until finally I decided to go in first, unmindful of the creatures that might make their lair in this weird place. After flapping about a hundred meters down a natural rocky conduit, I ended at the surface, where I found relief when I saw Ruben staring at me and he assisted in removing my oxygen tank. Then the others arrived, catching their breath. We were in a man-made catacomb, I guessed. Then Ruben whispered to us to follow him. We all stood on a well ground quartz slab.

  “All of a sudden the slab moved downward. “It’s an elevator shaft!" we exclaimed in a chorus. Then my doubtful mind worked again. Maybe, this place was a dwelling place of underworld mobsters, the dreaded organized crime syndicate, and in an instant I had made another contradictory thought. Maybe Ruben was doing it right. Mr. Caloughsen had been my close friend since our high school days at West Coast High five years ago. We had played football together, and I admired his stamina and, of course, his outstanding scholastic record. After high school we parted ways. A long time ago he knocked on my door, preaching world peace. I admired his sincerity; he had no difficulty convincing me to join the peace crusade, and we contacted our former classmates and friends and formed the nucleus of the movement. We had no problem with the funding; financial support was pouring in. Our cash on hand was more than enough for people to travel around the globe recruiting new members. Our organization grew until we started to march on the street. Unfortunately, we got lukewarm support from the public.

  I was on this deep thought when the elevator stopped and the rock wall opened; daylight engulfed us. “What a dazzling city!" we exclaimed. “A high-tech civilization under the sea!” We boarded a hovering coaster heading towards the underworld court. I explored the surroundings. I noticed that the people were very pale Caucasians or Polynesians, with a few blacks.

  “What’s the latest development?” an old man asked Mr. Caloughsen. “It’s getting worse, Professor Jurgen Dalgaard,” Ruben responded. “The nuclear war is imminent. In principle this planet is heading towards the abyss."

  Then the old man informed Ruben that the evacuation was being prepared. “The spaceships that you’ve requested are now ready."

  When the old man mentioned the word spaceships we glanced at each other. My heart jumped with joy; it was pounding fast. I now started to feel the excitement. Then Ruben introduced us to the elders, who welcomed us warmly. Finally, Ruben ushered us to the dining salon. Our conversation was on high steam.

  “I believe this place existed a long time ago,” I told Ruben.

  “A very, very long time ago,” Ruben replied. “Maybe before all known civilizations on land--”

  “It's very strange that you were able to construct this high-tech advancement without being noticed from above,” Don Zapanta interrupted.

  “Yes, it’s very strange indeed,” Ruben answered.

  “If you don’t mind, please relate to us the history of your people," Ms. Therese King requested.

  “Maybe . . . we could not classify this as our history, but rather we may consider this as a legend of our people, in the absence of concrete evidence,” Ruben emphasized. He started his story by saying, “A long, long time ago, our kingdom was very prosperous. The people were very intelligent and technologically advanced, occupying a very big, fertile land, gifted with rich natural resources. In spite of this great abundance, King Tuku Zargu became possessive; he colonized all smaller kingdoms within his reach. He also practiced womanizing; he even took the wife of his servant. The worst thing the king did was when he made a decree that all people shall worship his statue and it would mean death for those who defied his orders. Religious authorities were unhappy about this development; one religious authority warned that if the people followed what the king had ordered, the "descending God" would punish the people.

  “The majority of the people dismissed this warning, but instead they obediently followed the king’s desire until one night they were awakened by a strange loud sound originating from afar and they witnessed a very bright light ascending toward the sky, accompanied by spewing hell-stones and shaking of the land. The night turned into an inferno. The houses were flaming, as were the summer-dried grasses and trees. Living creatures were incinerated by the millions. About a quarter of the population survived this great catastrophe. Some artistic survivors painted pictures on the rock wall depicting a major volcanic eruption.

  “Accordingly, the population were divided among different kingdoms; it took a year for the people to notice that the vast land was slowly sinking. This alarmed the populace, so some kingdoms decided to abandon their occupied territories and travelled in the opposite directions toward the setting and rising sun, respectively. But there was one tribe who elected to stay. The leader ordered his people to transfer all the bulky technological manifolds to the large cave situated at the foot of the sacred mountain. Then they started to expand the lime cave down into an underground kingdom, provided with adequate vertical shaft vents. The cave was gifted with underground potable running water. . ..

  “Decades passed; the vast land was being swallowed by the great saline water. The cave dwellers had learned to survive in a hard way, innovating new techniques by simply creating different kinds of machines that met their requirements, and one of their major achievements was the amazing space vehicle powered by a nuclear energy-generating spheroid,” Ruben disclosed.

  “The unidentified flying object?” Ms. Therese King interrupted.

  “It could be the one they've been seeing,” Ruben responded positively. “In a moment, I’ll show it to you.”

  “Oh, how wonderful!” Therese King exulted. “But why is it that all those people who encountered the UFO said that they saw funny terrestrial beings very far from human beings."

  “Ah . . . yes, it’s part of our deception tactics, to sow confusion in the minds of the people of the land. Otherwise if we show real humans, then people shall think that we’re just existing within one corner of the globe, which is no good for us, because sooner or later they will discover our kingdom, which we didn’t want. We didn’t want to confront anybody. Rather, we wanted to live peacefully."

  “Shortly, Ruben briefed us; he designated me as one the team leaders. My pick-up point was Europe. What stunned me was that when Ruben said that he would stay on the Earth together with 300 other spaceships until the outbreak of the nuclear war. We asked him which countries they’d fight. He explained to us that they didn’t want to be fence sitters or lean toward another country, but they would act as a “nuclear virus” by positioning themselves in the strategic places and would shoot down any incoming intercontinental ballistic missiles fired from either side before the harm it shall inflict on the Earth.

  “I myself volunteered to stay with him, but he reasoned we must transport people to outer space and explore for a new habitable planet. . .. Satisfyingly, we congratulated him for his gallant effort to save the Earth. Finally, the moment of the exodus had come. Pardon me if I park my pen, because I saw mushroom like smoke billowing in the sky. I’ll use my video-camera to record this memorable moment. They're starting to blast this rare planet to pieces.”

  Good-bye, Earth, Sgt. Andrie Russell.

  XIII

  Martian Games

  Time passed swiftly. Mars had reached its goal for arms offensive superiority and was ready to tear apart the Earthling defense line. Mars’s arsenal had been bolstered lately, when it received the first delivery of two “omega missiles” from the IPO. An advance party from the IPO High Command came for on-the-spot assessment of the situation.

  The emir invited his guests to view the Martian games. He positioned his visitors near the field. The visitors were served wine and beer. They were having heart-to-heart conversations when the announcer interrupted.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to start the game known as Desert Combat. . .. This game shall be dedicated to our visitors from the Inter-Planetary Organization High Command, led by Gen. Knud Bokolov.”

  The Martians applauded for half a minute.


  “Just for the information of our visitors, this game is composed of two opposing teams; each team has one rubber ball about three inches in diameter. The main purpose is to hit the players of the opposing team by throwing the ball. Anybody who is hit in any part of the body shall be automatically out. A player who has the ball position after his opponents have released their ball must hurl his ball within fifteen seconds.

  “Of course the team that has remaining players shall win the game and receive the flag of the vanquished. The decision of the referee is final. This game shall test the players’ stamina, speed, precise hitting, cleverness, and quick reflexes. This game was originated on the Earth a long time ago, but there’s no record that supported the claim, when and where on the Earth. As a demonstration, we will have an appetizer. The Martian University Junior High will be pitted against the kids from the pool of the Earthling refugees. . .. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome them: The Earthling Leopards and the Martian Vultures!”

  The Leopards paraded with their colorful uniforms with headgear, masks, belly padding, and a green flag, escorted by a beautiful muse. On the other hand, the Vultures displayed their red-and-white uniforms waving their hands to the bannerettes waving crowd. The playing arena was foot-deep sand dunes, measuring about two hundred meters by three hundred meters, with a white painted bisecting line separating the two teams and a five-meter setback with a wire-mesh perimeter fence.

  The two teams entered the sand-dune field together with their coaching staff. A referee called the two team captains and gave them some reminders.