“That was fun,” Sondo said.
“They were all dying anyway,” Raney rationalized.
“And none of them were worth saving,” Sondo replied. “I must admit though, it’d have been more fun if we’d have been able to use some of our favorite ways to extinguish their miserable lives. But, this was still enjoyable.”
Before reaching their destination, they removed their head coverings and entertained themselves with other ways they could have accomplished the murders of the camp humans, had they been permitted. Both were hopeful they could employ their killing prowess on a larger population in the future. After all, there were billions of humans in need of killing that they hadn’t met yet.
Inside the meeting halls, those in the camp were beginning to feel the effects of the drug. Oddly, while there was grunting and mouth-gaping gasping, there were no screams. None of the victims had enough energy left to both cry out and attempt to breathe, too. All of them had the same symptoms of fluid pocketed throughout their bodies, pooling in dependent areas inside the chest cavity and other dependent spaces, inhibiting ambulation and body functions.
The older members went down first. As their organs were dying, the exteriors of their bodies began to rapidly show signs of aging.
The healthiest humans in the meeting rooms rushed to the aid of those who went down around them. Soon, there were more on the floor than were available to help.
Elderly hands clutched caving chests, struggling to pull in oxygen. Life partners tried to help their mates, assisting their bloated bodies gently to the floor. They held their loved one’s head up, speaking soft words of encouragement while pushing strands of graying hair away from their lined faces. Already compromised by the effects of earlier doses of the deadly drug, the once-hardy specimens had no reserves with which to fight the dispensed unit.
After the deaths, a gentle misty fog rose individually from each of the victims, in the image of its human when they were most vibrant. Rising to the corner of the ceiling, each human essence viewed from above, without concern, their respective dead body. Holographic scenes from each person’s life briefly and silently played around them, showing births, deaths and activities both glorious and not. The life reviews faded off into nothingness, without judgement.
Hovering and peaceful, the collective joyous presence drifted blissfully through the roof of the building to their destination of rest in the eternal light of the zero point field.
The sounds remaining at the camp’s meeting room came from the communication boards, aimlessly floating about the space. Public service information droned on with the weekly announcements and schedules. Instructions and postings from the All were broadcast across thousands of bodies. Sensing no life, the board eventually shut down.
When the remains were discovered later, the air system had recovered to its normal setting and the non-traceable Curmonin was gone.
The Homelings congratulated Gessie for her brilliant gaseous concoction. Surely she deserved something special, they all thought, as she is the one whose invention will take them on to victory.
Gessie received their accolades, longing for special favors of housing, food, and freedoms.
Chapter Nineteen
At Flora’s
“The posting board is glowing,” Flora said, touching the screen. She pulled the message up and placed it centrally so the group could hear and see it in the room.
A hologram of their Leader Marva, came through and positioned itself in the middle of the gathering. She adjusted a transport device about her neck as if planning an impending getaway, and spoke plainly. “Something terrible has happened,” was the lead-in. “I’ve been told that the Human Camp population has been wiped out, all at once, without the approval of the All. Officials are investigating the matter and we’ll find those responsible. If you are the killers and are out there listening, know this, we will find you and you will pay for what you’ve done.” She paused. “Believe me. I will find you and bring you to justice.”
The last of the message was read by Jocka, Marva’s aide, explaining that their leader had gone to view the carnage at each of the Meeting Rooms. “Don’t jump to any conclusions nor accuse any group until we know what’s happened,” he said. “Marva demands you refrain from blaming anyone until she finds out who did this.”
Flora’s first thought was of Corona. How would she and the other Hybrids handle this news? Her concerns were interrupted by Bob-Boy.
“The board is glowing again,” Bob-Boy said. “There’s a posting by Gessie.”
Flora touched the board which expanded in size for everyone’s viewing.
Gessie opened her message by showing bodies lying on the floor at one of the Meeting Rooms at the camp.
“A shocking event has taken place at the Human Camp. Someone or something has caused the deaths of the humans in residence there,” Gessie said. “We are saddened to learn of their demise.” She continued, using misnomers, euphemisms and key emotional terms such as “inhumane” and “vulnerable” to present a false impression of kindness and concern. She flicked at a non-existent tear to emphasize feigned sorrow.
“As everyone knows, my group the Homelings, with the help of the Travelers, had never supported passing over to the humans’ space and bringing them here. We always believed that sooner or later, such a disaster would occur.” Gessie hinted about a particular Hybrid living in the other dimension, one more advanced than any of the others, who’d been to In Situ many times and may want to conquer it to establish a colony for her own people.
“This human,” Gessie continued, “May now want to take revenge for the deaths of her fellow human beings. It’s even possible she was responsible for the murders because of her recent visit. Of course, we don’t want to point the finger at any one being or group so early in the investigation, but she could be the guilty one.”
During Gessie’s report, she used her beautiful voice and eloquent speech, ebbing and flowing, for its greatest effect. Along with fluid body movements and posturing, she expressed concerns, punctuating the air with an outstretched hand to make a point. She tilted her head aside, then raised it high in the air when making a difficult statement, utilizing every trick borrowed from successful speakers to make her points.
Gessie emphasized how they should feel afraid that someday the humans could no longer exist in their own space. “They’d come here, plant communities and steal what In Situs had worked so hard to build. They’ll rewrite and retell events to corroborate a twisted tale of migration for the sake of humankind. We will be forgotten.”
The hypocritical projection upon humans, of her own actions, criminality and viewpoint, was a bold but effective tactic.
Gessie’s final points, while presented with concern and empathy, were used in an attempt to end the Passers’ Hybrid agenda.
“In order to prevent a repeat of this terrible death scene, humans should no longer be permitted to come here. I remind you that the humans are not only dangerous, they’re weak. They bring diseases with them that could harm others and they die off from maladies acquired here. The Passers are partly to blame for this and must be denied access to the humans’ dimension. I’m requesting that a committee be formed to determine what should be done with the unfortunate Hybrids in existence in their own world. If the collateral deaths of all the Hybrids would ensure the humans would never again affect us, it may be what’s best for our future.
In closing, be assured that another report will be broadcast soon of our unbiased personal observations and research of the disturbing behaviors of two particular humans. The report is corroborated by one of the Passers who claims to have witnessed similar human actions.”
The propaganda was skillfully presented as if to express sadness and regret for the human victims kept at the camp. Pictures of some of them when alive were ghoulishly posted with melancholy, accompanying music.
When the posting was finished, Flora played it again, and transferred the words to a larger viewing area
for her group to discuss. Flora shared her opinion, a mixture of fact and fiction, bending and tugging the truth.
Fancy, smoothing her shift down to help control her feelings, faced Flora and the Passers. “Our mission and the Hybrids are in danger from an ever-emboldened gang of thugs who are hijacking the Passer’s agenda and the leadership of our dimension.” Looking harshly at her companions, Fancy said, “Because of the posting’s content, it’s clear - one of our group is a traitor.”
Chapter Twenty
Marva’s purple eyeband shimmered. She could not quite grasp what was displayed before her at the camp. Bodies were lined up, one after another in the back yard, decomposing at an alarming rate. Thousands of them. All sizes. Both sexes. Each was outfitted in a pedestrian shift, a style they had worn while living out their captive existence in this foreign space.
The scene reminded Marva of what the camp had looked like after the last deadly altercation her fellow beings had amongst themselves before the newly formed government the All restored peace and confiscated all personal weapons. Her group had to resort to decapitations en masse to force obedience and gain control. It worked.
Private weapon use and ownership anywhere in their dimension had been banned since then. The end result was that any violence occurring since then was against the unarmed and perpetrated by those illegally possessing weapons.
In Situ leaders and their body guards were permitted to legally own any weapons of their choicey for their personal safety. They were more deserving because they were the All.
But now, with the deaths of the humans, a more challenging weapon has emerged that as of now remained unidentified.
The leader moved her slim body from corpse to corpse. With a regal bearing and unique uniform, Marva was a commanding presence. Of the humans who’d been examined, results showed a collapse of their blood vessels. She was certain that tests of the remainder of the deceased, would show similar outcomes.
“Have you viewed Gessie’s posting for the Homelings’ group?” an aide said to his leader.
“Yes, I have,” Marva said. “And despite her boldness she’s making some sense in one area. We must act to keep Hybrids from coming here until we determine how this happened.”
She addressed Jocka, her closest aide. “These bodies must be dealt with.”
“What shall we do with them?” Jocka asked. “Some of us fear having the ashes remain in our dimension. Especially since we don’t know why the Healing Room couldn’t help them. And all of them going at once like this - it doesn’t make sense.” A gray sadness clouded his face for the deceased humans he had come to care about while working with them. He looked to his beloved leader for answers.
“Forward their Healing Room charts to my office board. Make a viewing record of their bodies available to me. Don’t bother to bag any of them. Just incinerate them and transport their ashes to their dimension. Dump them in the Empty Quarter. And be careful. The last time we went there, some human observers started the alien spacecraft scare all over again. Avoid those areas under suspicion of UFO visitations. Here is where I want you to go.” She handed Jocka her orders.
He took what she offered, touched it to a sparkle near the transport and a communication board appeared. Data danced in the air, showing an area of desert wilderness yawning across Yemen to the Persian Gulf and beyond.
“The Arabian Desert?” he said to Marva. He stuck the orders in a recess skin pocket of his arm.
“The Arabian Desert,” she repeated. “Just use a different area from where we’ve toured. Stay away from wells and springs. It’s all in there,” she said, gesturing to the images flashing on the board. “I collected saltbushes and Acacia branches from there many years ago and was impressed with its potential for covert activity.”
“It’s a big desert,” Jocka said
“Although Bedouin herd sizes are increasing, there’s more than enough unoccupied space for your mission.” Marva pointed to a marking of interest. “Stay away from there. Those regions remain contaminated with pools of oil which a tribe released into the desert and surrounding waters to hurt their own. Maybe the Homelings are right. Many warring humans don’t care about people, land or water. The Valers told us that from their experiences and have been talking about it for a long while. We should start listening to them.”
“I see where you want me to go,” Jocka said. He peered hard at the map showing shaded areas where sand dunes lump more than a thousand feet high and the daytime temperature can be greater than 110 degrees. “We can pass over there and deposit the human ashes to blend in with the rest of the ecoregion.”
“That’s what I thought. I want it completed with a single pass. With the crematorium use, thousands of bodies can be reduced to a container you can carry by yourself. You’ll have to have garments to protect your feet and the rest of your body from the extreme weather conditions there.”
Jocka looked down at his foot pads fitted with air sacs for gliding. “If I hurry, the reduced remains can be packaged by tonight and scattered immediately afterwards.”
He was feeling confident and surmised if he was successful and had an uncomplicated mission, Marva would promote him again, and perhaps he could be an even closer adviser to her. Maybe he would meet with the Valers and eventually, affect change. An improved lifestyle sounded good, too.
Aware of his thoughts and feelings Marva said, “You can become even more trusted by me if all goes well with this.” She appreciated being able to sometimes read the minds of her fellow beings even though they couldn’t read hers or each other’s. While what she learned was sometimes upsetting, it gave her an edge in her dealings with them.
Jocka was shocked at her knowledge of his intent. She must have been guessing at what I was thinking. He watched her face to see if she would respond to that.
She retained a flat affect and let his thoughts pass.
“One more thing,” Marva said. “You must support my decision to ban human contact with In Situs in any way unless I order it. I don’t want them coming here or us going there unless I say so.” She knew his answer before he expressed it. He would do anything it takes to rise even higher in her inner pack. Because of her knowledge of his thoughts and motivations, she knew he could be trusted.
“Do you have a mate, Jocka?”
Jocka’s eyeband glowed a rich brown as he swung his head toward his leader’s.
“You heard me. Do you have a mate?” Bright purple glitter stared him down.
“No. My mate disappeared soon after I started working with you. She’s never been found.”
“Plan to stay awhile after our meeting tonight. I find you interesting.” Marva glided around the smaller In Situ, looking him over before sending him off to do her bidding.
Jocka supervised the removal of the human bodies from the camp, hundreds at a time. Under heavy escort, corpses were piled up on a large carrier. They were unceremoniously transported in a steady stream toward the crematory which was pressed into service for reduction of the remains. While the process was ongoing, Jocka was present for assurance that the job was proceeding as ordered. He lingered near the exterior input belt that carried the deceased to their last stop in corporal form. Disposal transports lined up. Bodies were removed and steadily hoisted onto the current. The aide was pleased with what he saw. One after another human remains were propelled toward the crematory maw to become particles of dusty waste.
Before going inside the crematory building, Jocka glanced over at the door leading into the Ward. A small tube carrying a moving belt for disposal of rejected little ones, led from the back of the building. Jocka was glad he’d never made one for himself.
He wondered about Marva.
When the final reduction was accomplished, Jocka prepared for their ultimate disposal in the desert of the other dimension. He preferred solitude for this phase of the assignment. The fewer In Situs’ present in the human space, the less chance of problems. He was only sorry the intended region was without spe
cies of lilies for him to snatch. What vegetation available there was sparse and to be avoided to lessen the possibility of human engagement and interference.
Passing over to the desert with a box of ashes was easily accomplished. Enshrouded, Jocka activated the air control in his garment. In the hundred degree Arabian sands, the unit provided him with the necessary cool comfort for the task at hand amongst the dunes.
Alone in the radiating heat, he thought of the lives of these powdery souls. He touched the smooth box containing the dusty remains of the camp humans. Jocka had known many of them and found them to be as diverse in personality as his own kind and those of other dimensions. He marveled how their love for one another aided their adaptation to the confining, rugged In Situ conditions.
Most humans had been friendly, but many had an undercurrent of anxiety and fearfulness. Their ranks held workers and slackers, intelligence and ignorance, generosity and narcissism. In the end he considered all of it unnecessary. Where did it get them? Here, to be drifting eternally in a foreign space, without thought and without anyone who cared.
An unbeliever in anything remotely spiritual and having never witnessed the death of a human, Jocka was certain this was all there was. No God. No afterlife - just an eventual spreading of the remains. So, disposing of remains held no mystical tone for him, but it didn’t mean he was without feelings for them. This mass murder of innocent humans weighed him down.
Jocka released the latch and overturned the box. Ashes drifted across the sandy terrain, mingling with the hot desert floor as he moved about in a rocking motion. Drifting and blowing, blowing and drifting, the dust was released. Ever so briefly, he felt and heard, a melancholy sigh as the particles dispersed softly, some twirling gracefully before blowing away.
When disembodied whispers and sighs persisted, Jocka became anxious and turned around and around to see if someone was nearby. He fell to the sands and scrambled to right himself. With no one in view, he felt foolish for his concern.
WATCHING CORONA: From Our Dimension to Yours Page 17