CRISIS
EARTH
EUGENE ALLEN WILSON
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Crisis Earth
Copyright © 2018 by Eugene Allen Wilson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means; graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations inserted in critical review articles.
This story is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, organizations and dialogue in this novel are purely imaginary or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1Confrontation
Chapter 2Battlestations
Chapter 3Defcon One
Chapter 4Black Star
Chapter 5Meirosian Journey
Author Bio
INTRODUCTION
Millions of people are terrified at witnessing bright flashes of light and the thunderous sound of explosions emanating from high up in earth’s atmosphere. Panic and terror are ensuing in the coastal city of Anonwood and are spreading along the Pacific west coast. Assuming the worse, Russian and American military officials are minutes away from launching a nuclear attack.
Few people realize that these frightening events are the result of two alien forces locked in a fierce battle to obtain the most powerful weapon in the known galaxy. Interestingly enough, an alien female and three earth teenagers have become major players in this military conflict.
In this fifth and final prequel to a major novel release, a 400-year adventure continues.
Chapter 1 Confrontation
The Clark Residence
Saturday, 17 August 1974 (7:06 PM)
Reaching into the top dresser drawer, Tyrone pulls out the extraspatial otivicon. He begins feeling a level of fear and trepidation unlike anything he has felt previously. “Okay, we have a job to do.”
“I wanna come with y’all,” Sylvia pleads.
“No!” David objects.
“Why not?”
“The other selothians,” Nathan argues, “are cold-blooded killers.”
“Quafeira and her group will be there to protect us. I wanna go.” Sylvia eagerly wants to see Quafeira again. In the brief time she has known Quafeira, Sylvia has begun to see Quafeira as a good friend.
David walks up to her. “We are not about to put your life in jeopardy.”
“You’re doing it again,” she protests angrily. “You promised that you would respect me and my feelings. I trusted you!”
“I do respect and trust you. This is altogether different!”
Why?” Sylvia persists.
“Your brothers and I are going into a perilous situation! You helped us solve the time reference problem, along with freeing your brothers.”
“So why can’t I go with y’all and help again?”
“Sylvia, be for real!” Tyrone tells her. “I ain’t letting anyone harm my sister. Despite what Quafeira told us, something could still go wrong!”
As much as she hates to stay behind, Sylvia begrudgingly accepts her brother’s conclusion. The men turn and walk toward the door.
“Suppose one of you does get killed?” Sylvia asks. With a look of fright, she looks at Tyrone.
David turns toward her. “Just pray that nothing like that happens.”
“Dude! Let’s go!” Nathan demands. All three leave the room just as Diane is entering. She looks at the men walking off just before focusing her attention back on her almost tearful sister. “What’s wrong? What’s going on here?”
A few minutes later, Nathan is pulling into the front yard. He drives the car to the front of the house. All three teens exit the car and walk toward the front of the house. “Okay! Where are you?” Tyrone asks aloud. His reply is immediate as four individuals, armed with high-power masor rifles, emerge from around the left side of the old house.
Two selothians take a position in front of the teenagers. Two other selothians position themselves right and left respectively of the teenagers. Each one raises a high-energy masor rifle. David is visibly nervous. “Those weapons are unnecessary,” he tells them respectfully. “We came to talk.”
“You will do more than just talk,” comes a female voice. The teenagers turn around and see two additional selothians emerge from the same side of the house. Tyrone immediately recognizes Ibris and Slovas from the earlier encounter. “David Williams, I presume,” Slovas states. He is dressed in a green semi-reflective outfit.
“Yes, I am.”
“David! You have something that I want.”
“Yes. I know about the extraspatial otivicon.” Tyrone and Nathan keep a serious look on their face. Slovas and Ibris briefly trade glances.
“Do you?” Slovas replies with disbelief. “What do you know of it?”
“The extraspatial otivicon,” David continues, “was used to open an extraspatial conduit to funnel gravitational forces for the Hilexos project.”
“Interesting. What else did Daljik tell you?” Slovas demands as he looks menacingly at Tyrone. Struggling to maintain their composure, all three teens are acutely aware that directed energy weapons are aimed at them.
“Daljik,” Nathan interrupts, “told us about the entire matter dealing with Selvon Jarrak.”
“You are lying just like your friend,” Slovas charges.
“How could we be lying?” Tyrone protests. “That’s why I don’t understand why you told me something different.”
“Besides,” David adds, “how else could we have known any of this?”
Slovas gives them all a sharp look. He is surprised that these aliens bear a remarkable resemblance to thaons. He begins wondering if this planet is a thaon colony world. His hatred for thaons causes him to make the decision that these humans are not fit to live. “Where is Daljik now?” Ibris asks.
“He died a short time ago,” David replies. “After his ship crashed, he kept hoping to be rescued, but no one ever came. We befriended him.”
“That idiot is of no concern to me! Where is the extraspatial otivicon?” Slovas demands.
“It is in the back of my vehicle,” Nathan replies.
“Get it! Now!”
After receiving the keys from Nathan, David walks toward the back of the car. Upon unlocking and raising the trunk door, he removes the extraspatial otivicon. He walks back and hands it to Slovas, who promptly snatches it. For a few seconds, Slovas examines the device. He pulls a small rectangular device out of his upper pocket and activates it.
As he passes the small device over the top portion of the extraspatial otivicon, it emanates a series of high frequency tones. After returning the device to his pocket, he presses five contacts on the extraspatial otivicon. The upper one third of the device rises. Slovas sees a different internal configuration. He presses two additional contacts causing the device to close. “You have done well, considering the lies that you have been told.”
“Now that you have the extraspatial otivicon,” David states, “you can let your people know where Daljik’s ship accidentally crashed.”
Slovas breaks into a cold laugh. “An accident you say? Since you insist. I personally had his ship sabotaged!”
“Sabotaged! Why?” David asks angrily.
“Why not? That rebellious idiot,” Slovas continues, “stood in the way of true scientific progress. He paid the price for his lack of vision. With this, my associates and I will achieve true galactic unity!”
“How thrilling,” David counters with acute sarcasm. “And of course, you will, n
o doubt, be the ruling emperor of this unified galaxy.”
“Brave words for one in your position,” Slovas warns him.
“Daljik,” David boasts, “was a brilliant visionary who created the extraspatial otivicon in the interest of furthering peaceful astronomical and scientific research.”
“David,” Nathan asks nervously, “what are you doing?”
“Nathan, trust me. I have to do this just like I did back at the police station.”
David returns his focus to Slovas. “By your own admission, you and your Tavus-Alverand murderous constituents had Daljik killed. Then, all of you stole his creation, all to achieve your goal for absolute power.”
Enraged, Slovas slaps David across the face. “Insolent Fool! “You dare to insult me with that religious Genari nonsense!”
“Religious?” Nathan thinks to himself. “So these aliens believe in God too?”
“We were building great civilizations while you savages were still living like dogs! I will obtain my rightful position as galactic sovereign!”
Now angrier, David begins comparing Slovas to Adolf Hitler. As he wipes blood from his lip, he recalls the horrific facts from his research of Nazi Germany. As David had earlier learned, Hitler’s aim was to forge an Aryan master race by military conquest. The systematic butchering of an estimated 6 million people, mostly Jews, had proven Hitler’s aim. Yet, this figure is dwarfed by the estimated 60-100 million black Afrikans who had perished during the centuries-long transatlantic slave trade.
“I seriously doubt,” David says defiantly, “that the Anatahn Alliance or other coalition forces will allow you to have that position.”
“David,” Nathan interrupts, “what are you doing?”
Slovas is highly incensed by David’s remark. “I am through with you.”
“Can we go now?” Tyrone asks.
“Yes, you may go…straight to your graves!”
“Now wait a minute! We’re no threat to you,” Nathan yells. Ibris fires a masor. The lethal beam misses Nathan by inches. Two other selothians immediately aim their masor rifles at David and Tyrone. Slovas motions them to lower their weapons. “Do you actually take us for fools such as yourselves?” Ibris interrupts Slovas. “We knew all along that Daljik was long dead and that you had been talking to the others. We anticipated their interference.”
“She is right,” Slovas continues, “I commend you on your ploy. You acted out your part well. Fortunately, my associates are at this moment handling your pitiful friends. Like you, they will soon be dead.”
“We gave you the device! Don’t you have any concern at all?” Tyrone yells, as he begins worrying that the situation is going wrong.
“Not for the likes of you and your war-mongering thaon cohorts!” Slovas replies callously.
“War-mongering thaon cohorts? What are you all talking about?” Nathan asks, as he looks again at David.
“Balor! Kefas! Take these pests into the forest and kill them. Start with the philosopher,” Slovas yells pointing at David.
“Lying dirty ba’athnuk!” David yells. “We’ve done nothing to you! No one will ever be able to trust you to keep your word!” Kefas takes the butt of his masor rifle and strikes David hard in the stomach. David falls to the ground, coughing. Slovas walks over to David and stoops down. He lifts David’s head by the hair. “Human vermin! You will pay with your life for calling me that foul name!”
After pushing David’s head back down, Slovas stands up and walks away. After forcing David up off the ground, Kefas motions the teenagers to walk farther into the woods. Afterward, the teens are ordered to stand in front of a tree. Balor and Kefas raise their masor rifles and aim.
Tyrone closes his eyes. “Dear God in heaven! Help Us! Please!” Nathan screams out in sheer terror just before two intense, blue masor beams are fired in his direction.
“Now, things are going to be done my way!” Slovas tells Ibris as they both continue walking toward their shuttle farther away. As they approach the shuttle, a side hatch opens as the pilot emerges from the shuttle.
“I knew that David Williams was talking nonsense. After you give our superiors the extraspatial otivicon, we can finally complete Project Hilexos,” Ibris concludes, along with a short laugh. “I found your speech about becoming a galactic sovereign amusing.” Her smile vanishes as she notices an angry scowl on Slovas’ face. “Slovas, what is wrong?”
“Wrong? That was no idle speech!” His voice is cold and menacing.
Ibris steps back in shock. “I…I do not understand.”
“How could you not understand? Did you think I would give the extraspatial otivicon back to those other idiots?”
Ibris, on becoming fearful, fights to keep her composure. “Then how will you complete Hilexos? It requires an entire team and massive resources.”
“That will be simple,” Slovas replies laughing. “Thanks to Alos Keroth and that pitifully blind loyalty of his, I secretly acquired 200 billion denara to create and organize my own research team. I have established my base of operations with my new associates on planet Sathias.”
Ibris is shocked even more. “Sathias? Slovas! The Tunarian government is allied with the Kutashia, one of the most brutal terrorist agencies known throughout the region. They have butchered thousands of people.”
“Whom the Tunarian government chooses to ally itself with is none of my concern,” Slovas states. “Tunarian government high officials were far more interested in receiving the thirty billion in Tunarian drachnura that I had given them. In turn, they provided me with my own private island. Project Hilexos is now Project Slovasias, named in honor of me!”
“Project…Slovasias?” Ibris asks fearfully.
“Yes! Project Slovasias! Think of the immense power I can have! Once the extraspatial otivicon is configured properly, I can pulverize any other inhabited planet in the galaxy! Of course, if they surrender control of their planet to me, they can live”
Ibris feels a cold chill as she realizes the ramifications of Slovas’ goal: the deliberate destruction of an entire planet, along with the slaughter of the planet’s billions of inhabitants. Along with the necessary hardware configuration, an ultra-complex software program would be loaded into the extraspatial otivicon’s primary memory. Once activated, the extraspatial otivicon would initiate a self-sustaining power feedback process; a process referred to by some physicists as In-phase Cascading Regenerative Feedback Amplification.
This process would enable the device to use a black hole’s own gravitational field to generate sufficient energy to enlarge the extraspatial conduit. The entry portal would thus become large enough to swallow an entire inhabited planet. For optimum results, this endeavor would necessitate the implementation of additional major hardware that would allow using a complex system of intergalactic spatial coordinates in locating and targeting virtually any planet in the galaxy for obliteration. Slovas is certain that any military force in the entire galaxy would be entirely defenseless against such inconceivable power.
For decades, he had fantasized about possessing one of the most powerful, albeit, the ultimate galactic weapon. He was enraged when his previous attempts in obtaining this goal were interrupted decades previously. He blamed Selvon Jarrak and Daljik Ra’as for keeping him from fulfilling his vision. Slovas reasoned that such a weapon, soon to become one of many, would bring him absolute power, inconceivable wealth and great prestige. Like a deity, he would command strict obedience while instilling fear and dread into his numerous trillions of galactic subjects. Over time, his rulership would encompass a greater number of inhabited galactic regions. The thought of possessing such inconceivable power now has a stranglehold on him.
Yet again, the means to accomplish his “grandiose” vision is now back in his hands. Ibris realizes that Slovas had no intention of allowing the military to use the extraspatial otivicon for offensive or defensive purposes. His grand promises to government and military officials over the years had concealed an ulterior motiv
e. Now, she realizes that David’s charges were true. “What of Roban?”
“What of him? Like Quafeira and all her associates, Roban will also meet with a premature demise, complements of Commander Hoth, whose personal account now holds one billion denara.”
“I see,” she replies with subdued aghast. “Your ambition amazes me.”
“As it should, and I could always use another engineering physicist on my team,” Slovas tells her invitingly.
“You have me!” Ibris replies fearfully, giving him a pretentious smile.
Looking smug, he accepts her answer. “Where are Balor and Kefas?” He asks. “They should be returning by now.” He turns his head back just in time to see several peshon energy packets impact various areas on the shuttle’s wall. The pilot is killed. Four heavily armed security personnel emerge into the opening compelling Slovas and the others run.
One selothian forcibly throws himself against the back door and forces it open. All run up a flight of stairs and split up into two groups. In one room facing the south side, one of the selothians grabs the nearest heavy object and throws it against the window, breaking the glass and window frame. In another room on the north side, Slovas, Ibris and Zurios Nahshor take up defensive positions near two windows. After breaking a window, Zurios carefully looks out. A masor beam nearly misses his head by inches forcing him to fall back. After breaking the glass of an adjoining window, Slovas and Ibris open up with a three-second burst of return masor fire. Two returning masor beams narrowly miss Slovas and Ibris. “Slovas Larian! This is security commander Obbin of the Phesavius! Lay down your weapons and surrender!”
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