She paused to make a few notes on the paper, so it at least looked like she was keeping proper minutes, but writing wasn’t easy when the world felt like it was spinning out of control. Thirst seized her parched throat. Her fingers grasped for a nearby glass of water and she gulped most of it down like she’d just run a marathon. She ignored the inquisitive glares of her fellow council members as she re-entered General Moore’s mind.
She saw him in a huge planetarium filled with military people and politicians. He wore a starched white shirt, black tie and a blue jacket with four gleaming stars on each shoulder. Everyone in the room was watching a presentation that spanned an imitation universe filled with stars and planets.
Wow! She choked on her water when she saw the president of the United States was there in the planetarium; she recognized the faces of several world leaders. They were being addressed by a person unlike anyone she’d ever seen before. His skin was lemon yellow and so translucent that his internal organs were visible. Something like a heart pumped inside his chest. His blue eyes glowed like fiery stars.
General Moore had filed the creature in his mind as a friendly. The friendly warned those in the assembly about the Celeruns, a race of creatures which had set a trajectory through outer space, and how over the course of ten thousand years, every planet they had visited was now completely and entirely dominated by Celeruns. The friendly’s planet, flagged within its own solar system, and Earth within its system, were highlighted on the ceiling of the planetarium. “It’s too late for my world,” the friendly said. “They’re already there; my species has been relegated to one small corner of our planet, and in a few generations we will be gone. Your planet is next.”
“What can we do to stop them?” The President asked.
“The only thing you can do is ensure the survival of your species. Recognize that mankind’s reign is over, but that it’s not too late to start an evacuation. Other worlds are standing by to help. They have offered to transport five hundred thousand humans off Earth to worlds willing to offer them permanent settlement, ensuring the survival of your species.”
After a moment of silence, and a brief consultation among the top leaders, the President spoke.
“We will consider the offer,” the President said, “but leaving millions to die is unacceptable.”
“Not to mention the panic an evacuation would cause.” Elizabeth recognized the man speaking as the leader of Russia. “We’ll have to find another way.”
“Oh, God,” Elizabeth said, losing the link and all the spit in her mouth at the same time. “Someone, get me more water.”
Jerome filled her glass and offered the general a piece of pie, which he accepted.
“General Moore is totally sincere, Red,” Elizabeth whispered aside. “He’s telling us the truth as far as he sees it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure he believes it, but I’m not sure if it’s true.”
“Huh?”
“Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy, but he’s totally sincere. Boy, do I hope he’s totally insane.” She paused only a second. “But he’s not, Red. I’ve never encountered a more rational mind.”
“What brings you to Hewego, General?” Father Bob inquired.
“The destruction of mankind.”
The pen she was holding snapped in half. Ink splattered, but not very far. Elizabeth whimpered, and went to get a tissue.
“Indeed,” Father Bob said, giving her a look of conern. “And by the grace of God those of us that were spared are working to restore what was lost.”
“I am not referring to the carnage left by the plague,” the general said. “I mean the destruction that’s yet to come.”
“I don’t follow,” Father Bob said. “Hewego is just beginning.”
“You will not finish what you have started. There isn’t much time, so this is what needs to happen…”
Doc interjected, his skepticism unhidden by his pronounced accent. “You claim to be a general from a governmental branch we’ve never heard of—and you come without proof of that status—why should we accept anything you say as truth?”
All eyes focused on the general. His lips had disappeared into a tight line. “I will explain myself once, and only once, so kindly refrain from interrupting.”
Doc folded his arms over his chest, but said no more.
“Folks, if you don’t already know by now, we are not alone in the universe. And the government hid that information from you until its own demise. The Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs was so clandestine that for a very long time only the United States Presidents, and those directly involved in the agency’s operation, knew about it. The department didn’t exist in computer files or on paper. Information concerning its presence is…” The general swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. “…was passed around one way, and one way only: verbally—making it nearly impossible for unauthorized agents to steal or download.”
Elizabeth sopped up the ink, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone in the room. The council wasn’t buying the general’s story. They thought the general was a loon. The thing was the general knew they thought he was a loon, but he was banking on one man’s acceptance. And that was Red’s.
“That’s the government for ya.” Farmer Morningside grunted and scratched his stomach. How that man worked so hard, breaking his back from sunup to sundown every single day, yet maintained a massive beer belly, was a complete mystery to Elizabeth.
The general glanced at Farmer Morningside, studied him a moment, and then continued his narration.
“In 1939, a branch devoted to furthering our awareness of extraplanetary races was formed. Its funding has waxed and waned over the years, but it got a big boost in 1969 when intelligence gathered by the friendlies indicated that the Celerun threat was closer than previously thought.”
“What the hell are friendlies?” Farmer Morningside asked.
“Friendlies are what our agents out in the field call helpful alien life forms.”
“If they’re so friendly, why don’t they take care of the Celeruns for us?” Red asked.
“Who says they haven’t tried? The friendlies are aliens who fled their own worlds after the Celeruns took over.”
“If worlds more advanced than ours can’t fight the Celeruns, what can we possibly do?” Red wanted to know.
“I’m glad you asked, but first let me tell you something. It’s undeniably true that the Celeruns have superior technology, but they are only slightly more intelligent than us.
“Never underestimate them though. They’re an old race and have thousands of years of experience to draw upon. But it’s not their technology or intelligence that has conquered superior species, it’s something much more basic.”
The cynical attitude of the council hung in the air like an anvil ready to drop. Farmer Morningside, Veronica, Dr. Patel, and Jerome all leaned back in their seats, arms crossed in front of them. Only curiosity kept them in their seats.
“The Celeruns’ weapon is reproduction,” General Moore said. “They are so prolific, and so completely focused on spreading their DNA across the cosmos, that their sheer numbers have overwhelmed species intellectually and technologically superior to themselves.”
“In other words, they breed like cockroaches,” Red said.
“Or weeds,” said Farmer Morningside.
“You’re both correct,” the general said. “The Celeruns are a mixture of both plant and animal.”
“Bah!” Veronica let out a disgruntled hiss. “I can’t believe any of you can take him seriously. I have better things to do than waste my time talking about little green men from outer space.”
Jerome held up his hands to Veronica, indicating that he shared her sentiment, but that he was helpless to end the meeting.
The general ignored the two of them. When Elizabeth returned to her seat, he locked eyes with her, as if she were the only one in the room.
“You see, Mrs. Wakeland, the p
lague wasn’t the work of any earthly nation, but of the Celeruns. The government has been aware of the Celeruns for decades, but believed them content to observe us from a distance. Then, back in 1969, the friendlies paid Earth a call, mainly just to warn us that the Celeruns had their eyes on us. Some administrations took the warning quite seriously, others brushed it off, so preparations for an invasion have been haphazard. This last administration realized the gravity of the threat, but Congress refused to fund the defense project during the economic downturn. While politicians hemmed and hawed, BAM,” he slapped the piece of pie, sending its contents oozing over the table. “The Celeruns squashed the human race.”
The general scanned the room as he wiped his hand on a napkin, eyes traveling from face to face, gauging their reactions.
Red shifted uncomfortably, wiping a splatter of pie off his cheek with his finger. “Um, what do these Celeruns look like?”
“Information is limited.”
“Do they have green skin, kind of hard and ribbed like celery?”
The general nodded.
“Are their eyes pink like roses suspended in glass paperweights?”
“Apt, Red, but their eye color can change from white to deepest red, depending on the season.”
“Green skin.” Veronica winked at Red, as she flicked a pie crumb off of her blouse. “Of course. Do they have antennas too?”
Water shot out of Professor Linkletter’s nose. “I am sorry, everyone,” she apologized, still giggling. “I just can’t help it.”
Elizabeth didn’t need special mind reading powers to sense her husband’s unease. His jaw was clenched and frustration took the form of sweat beads on his upper lip. She found his hand underneath the table, giving it a squeeze. That’s when she realized her own hand was shaking.
“These Celeruns are responsible for the plague that killed my first husband and our two little boys?” She tried very hard not to lose emotional control in front of the council, but her voice broke in half at the end.
“Yes.”
The information was difficult to wrap her mind around. Aliens had killed everyone she loved with no more emotion than a human might feel when spreading herbicide over crabgrass. Now they wanted to kill her second family as well. If there were any other mind readers in the room, they’d see a woman teetering between a mountain of anger and a valley of tears.
She closed her eyes and lowered her head.
“And they will destroy the rest of you if you refuse to listen.” The general didn’t let up. This was a bombing mission: fly in and drop the news, then continue on his way. She saw his mind drawing maps as he spoke. He was already planning the next leg of his trip.
“You see, ladies and gentlemen, H. G. Wells wasn’t just an author, he was a prophet. It is only the sheer numbers of bacteria and virii extant on Earth that is keeping extraterrestrials off-planet, studying us from afar. Not even the most advanced races can find a way to immunize themselves against all of Earth’s infectious agents.
“Celeruns are an exception; cosmic travelers by nature, they’ve been exposed to every mutant bacterium and virus you can possibly imagine. They’re one of the few species to have a hardier immune system than humans.”
“In War of the Worlds, the common cold stopped the aliens,” Professor Linkletter said. “Why don’t we just sneeze on the Celeruns and end the invasion right here and now?”
General Moore glared at her. “I don’t appreciate your condescension.” Professor Linkletter’s jaw dropped and she gasped in indignation. “If you had listened instead of giggling like a tween girl, you would realize the abysmal depths of stupidity that would give birth to that question. When the Celeruns engineered the plague, they underestimated what it would take to kill every single one of us.”
“Hurrah for us,” Dr. Patel said with an eyeroll.
“After the plague ran its course, the Celerun prep teams were unpleasantly surprised to find remnants of humanity still hanging on. Now they’ve changed tactics.”
“Their tactics entail what?” Red asked.
“Sweep us out with ground troops.”
“Using soldiers with guns?” Elizabeth gasped.
“Possibly guns, but any weapon will do as long as the end result is death.”
“The plague happened a few years ago.” Red inquired. “Why did they wait so long to finish us off?”
“The distance between solar systems with planets upon which the Celerun could live, combined with the vastness of their empire mean that simple communications take time, combined with the time needed to transit between solar systems. True, they’ve been aware of us for nearly one hundred years, but the Celeruns are very cautious about how they do this. First, they sent probes. Once they received data that the Earth could support their life, they sent vessels filled with Celerun observation teams and scientists. Finally, the made contact with Earth’s governments. That did not go so well. That’s when they decided to send us the plague.”
The council grew quiet. Professor Linkletter thought she was too old to entertain the idea of aliens. She’d quit listening a few minutes ago. Right now she was thinking about how to find copies of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for the eighth graders. Farmer Morningside dismissed the general’s claims outright and was mad at him for wasting a perfectly good piece of pie. Veronica and Dr. Patel didn’t buy the alien story for a minute. Jerome still considered it a possibility, but didn’t want to look like a jackass in front of Veronica. Elizabeth knew that Jerome secretly lusted after Veronica. The feeling wasn’t mutual.
“Next,” General Moore said, “When they thought we were nice and dead, they sent prep teams to ready the Earth for Celerun settlement. But that didn’t go so well either, so they sent cleansing teams, which brings us to where we are now.” He paused to take a long swig of water. Wiping his mouth with a fastidiously starched and folded handkerchief, he continued.
“As I speak, the cleansing teams are concentrated in Asia, but they won’t stop there. Soon, an entire fleet will arrive in North America. Their job is to ensure everything is secured before the main attraction sets down—the mother ship.
“It’s a massive vessel, holding ten million or more Celerun settlers, and it’s not the only Celerun mother ship in the universe. The friendlies say the Celeruns have a hundred mother ships, constantly searching for new worlds to settle.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Red said.
“Isn’t it, though?” The general agreed. “Celeruns are a patient and careful species.”
“If they wanted us gone,” Farmer Morningside asked, “why didn’t they blow us up in one shebang?”
“Weapons of that magnitude would kill everything, including essential microorganisms in the soil and air. They despise humans, but they love the Earth and want to make it their own. When civilization failed, our manufacturing, chemical, and nuclear power plants failed.” The general held his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “Our own technology brought us this close to Armageddon, but the Celeruns rushed in to cap the spills, dismantle the plants, and clean up the environment. The Earth hasn’t been this clean since the days of Eden.”
“Why would they try to kill us with biological warfare,” Doc asked, “then save us from disaster?”
“Their goal wasn’t to save us, but rather the planet. The survival of even that remnant of humanity was an unwanted side effect of saving the planet.”
“I’m trying to keep an open mind here,” Father Bob said. “God created a lot of biological diversity just on our own world, so it goes to reason the universe is full of creatures we’ve never imagined. Allowing as how your story is true, General Moore—what is it that you expect us to do?”
“Stop it!” Veronica stood up so fast her chair fell backward. “This conversation is ridiculous. Don’t encourage him.” With a toss of her nose in the air, she announced. “I will not be part of this nonsense. Good day.” With that, she marched out the doors. Jerome followed. So did Professor Linkletter, but sh
e wasn’t as light on her feet and she tripped over a chair. Farmer Morningside caught her, righted her and offered her his arm to escort her out. The only ones left from the council were the Wakelands, Dr. Patel, and Father Bob.
General Moore’s expression crumpled into a scowl. He swept a hand toward the door, indicating the rest of them were free to go as well.
“General Moore, I appreciate your concern for our well-being,” said Dr. Patel. “As a physician, I am equally concerned about yours. I’d like to take you to my office for a thorough evaluation.”
“Do not patronize me, Doctor.” General Moore said the last word with contempt. “I assure you that I am quite sane. So take your phony concern and go bother someone else. You’re dismissed.”
“You can’t order me around like I’m your soldier,” Dr. Patel said. He laid a hypodermic needle on the table for all to see.
Elizabeth felt her face blush with embarrassment. For the first time she felt shame at being part of the council. Her eyes went to the floor as she could barely look General Moore in the eye.
“Don’t think I won’t subdue you if need be,” Dr. Patel warned.
“I’d like to see you try,” General Moore stood to his full height, which was a pretty impressive six-foot-three or so. Even though he was at least twenty years older than Dr. Patel, she felt sure he could grind the smaller man into fine powder.
Dr. Patel didn’t back down.
“Men!” Father Bob moved himself between them. “Please, sit down and hear each other out, and if we disagree, let’s do so like gentlemen.”
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