The Invader Candidate: From the Adventures of Khraa-Veh, Alien Explorer
Page 34
Jefferson, who sat near the RV’s rear and was at the Chicago convention as a pro-Yippie radical, was floored by Khraa/Astra’s knowledgeability of American history.
“You know, Captain,” Jefferson said out of respect for Khraa/Astra, “I’ve met many younger people who weren’t even born when that took place, but who think and act as if they thought they were. But after hearing you speak, you seem to know more about Earth than most of us older people.”
“Total mental absorption of the Internet and my background as a social scientist will do that” Khraa/Astra said. “Comcorder, please delete Jefferson Stanton’s words and my words that followed, and reset to just after my words ‘his teeth into dust’.”
“Selected audio deleted, Captain” spoke the comcorder. “Please continue.”
“The Lord God Almighty has instilled within most of us who were at the Three-Cross Ranch the necessary instructions and skills for each of us to carry out our plan to take down Mephistula. My courtship-friend and FBI Senior Special Agent Mike Bonhoeffer will fly into outer space in Blue 1 to stop Trudierre’s Shrionized Kannatikan invasion fleet from destroying Earth, singlehandedly if necessary.
“All my man needs to do is miniaturize Blue 1, worm his way through space, enter a service portal, and float his way to the lead starship’s master sensor-computer section. Once there, he’ll plant 12 nuclear charges, each with the destructive power of one Soviet-made Tsar Bomba hydrogen bomb, the most powerful Earth-built nuclear weapon ever to be exploded.”
Monique and Jefferson were silently awed with fear as Khraa/Astra continued her log entry.
“Minneapolis is currently one big war zone, with police versus protesters, and protesters versus each other. At least the anti-Trump protesters, fractious as they were, were on the same page enough to be unified. Now, who’s on whose side? It’s a classic Terran shell-game of destiny. Either way, we have a job to do. If we don’t do it, all is indeed lost. End of entry, date-time stamp.”
“Log entry completed, Captain” spoke the comcorder.
“Thanks” Khraa/Astra said, as she raised the volume on her iPad.
“It’s that serious?” Monique asked, with fear lacing her voice.
“It is, Monique” Khraa/Astra said somberly. “It’s that serious.”
“It can’t be that bad?!” Jefferson said in disbelief.
“It is, Mr. Ex-President!” Khraa/Astra said, slightly riled and holding back her disdain for the scandal-plagued former Commander-In-Chief. Her voice grew slowly louder as the alien RV driver became angrier and angrier, “And don’t you dare think that it can’t happen here!
“Your writer Sinclair Lewis, a man from your side of Earth’s political spectrum, I do believe, would agree that it always had, still can, and will happen here somewhere on your planet! It happened in the Egypt of the Pharaohs. It happened in Babylon. It happened in Medo-Persia. It happened in Greco-Macedonia. It happened in republican and imperial Rome. It happened in the Arab world. It happened in Mongolia. It obviously happened in a Russia that became ‘Sovietized.’”
Khraa/Astra began to dangerously swerve the RV between both northbound lanes as she ranted further, “It definitely happened in Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, Imperialist Japan, Communist China, ALWAYS WITH A NAUSEATINGLY STRONG WHIFF OF ANTI-SEMITISM IN THE AIR! AND IT’S BEEN STEALTHILY HAPPENING IN YOUR UNITED STATES OF AMERICA SO MUCH, MISTER EX-PRESIDENT, THAT IT IF IT WERE POSSIBLE, SINCLAIR LEWIS WOULD RISE FROM HIS GRAVE, MAKE LIKE THE BARD, AND SHOUT, ‘CRY HAVOC, AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!!!’”
“LOOK OUT, DAMNIT!” shouted a frightened Jefferson, as the horn of an 18-wheel Mack truck sounded from behind.
Khraa/Astra quickly got the RV safely back into her own lane, and allowed the Mack truck to pass.
Jefferson paternally scolded the alien, “You may be from outer space, Captain, but as Ex-President of these United States and its Interstate Highway System, I DEMAND THAT YOU OBEY THE RULES OF OUR ROADS AND WATCH THE HELL WHERE YOU’RE GOING!! CAPISCE?!”
“Yes, sir,” a contrite Khraa/Astra said quietly, while she drove on through the night.
APARTMENT 1214, BELLA VILLA APARTMENT COMPLEX
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
12 JULY, 8:15 PM CENTRAL TIME
“Har, you’ll report back to work as Mike” Khraa/Astra said to Har-as-Mike. “Thankfully, Jim gave the Bureau an airtight cover story about the Bonhoeffers’ whereabouts so that no one will suspect anything.”
“And the local coroner’s records will show,” Har-as-Mike said, coming across exactly like Mike, “that our devil-boy Eggers died by misadventure. That’s a relief.”
Jefferson washed his hands in the bathroom, as Velbya-as-Val said, “So far, we’re all medically holding up well. Guys, how about you?”
“No problems here, Doc Koyne” Toccs-as-Glenn said to Velbya-as-Val, whose mannerisms and ways of speech exactly mirrored those of the real Glenn. “So, we’ll sort of get to relive our childhood, right?”
“Nope!” Yordy-as-Donny said, coming across just like the real Donny. “We’ll actually get to live like kids on summer holidays do. Cool!”
“It’s not all fun and games, guys” the real Khraa/Astra said.
“She’s right, you know” Jefferson said, as he came out of the bathroom.
“Everything has its down side” Monique said, as she and Tranxa-as-Astra walked out of the kitchen, with Tranxa-as-Astra carrying four tall glasses of iced tea on a tray.
“In fact, Monique, when I became Khraa’s double,” Tranxa-as-Astra said, “I learned a lot about the horrors of life on Earth that I wish I never had.” Tranxa-as-Astra turned to Jefferson and said, “Mr. Ex-President, I don’t envy your world’s peoples.”
“I don’t envy my kind either, Tranxie” Jefferson said, shaking his head sadly. “I don’t envy them either.”
Jefferson turned to Khraa/Astra and said, “So, Captain, just what is your plan?”
“First,” Khraa/Astra said, holding out two small pill-like implants, “take these, each of you. You, too, Monique.”
“Just what is this ‘pill’?” Jefferson said.
“Think of this ‘pill’ as a lower-level Matrix device” Khraa/Astra said. “When you get to the convention, it’ll work like the Force in Star Wars. It will help you get past those Randy Rae guards because the device in these pills will give you powers over the weaker minded billions of others on your planet.”
Monique and Jefferson each took one “pill” from Khraa/Astra’s hand.
“Can we wash it down with this iced tea?” Monique said.
“That’s why we’re having some right now” Khraa/Astra said.
“What about Tranxie and you?”
“Don’t worry about Captain Veh and me, Jeff” Tranxa-as-Astra said to Jefferson, as her verbal and nonverbal behaviors and mannerisms mirrored those of Khraa/Astra. “We’re already telepaths, and with powers like hers, you could say our good captain’s the grand-mommy of all space-telepaths.”
Monique and Jefferson, clueless at Tranxa-as-Astra’s words, looked stunned.
“An Earthly figure of speech!” a frustrated Khraa/Astra said, throwing up her arms in the air. “Yeesh! Do we ETs have to spell out everything for you Earthlings?!”
LIVING ROOM, RANCH HOUSE, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
8:59 PM CENTRAL TIME
“COMSMOCOM to Earth-base,” Greeze radioed to the makeshift “Earth-base” console that looked like a ham radio set, “COMSMOCOM to Earth-base. Do you read?”
April, knowing that the Amkerians were trying to contact their non-Earthly friends, ran to the console and answered, “Earth-Base to COMSMOCOM, this is Earth-base. I’m April Stock, wife of Three-Cross Ranch-owner James Stock. Over?”
“April,” Greeze said, “Could you get either Jim or Admiral Makarrth —?”
“It won’t be necessary, April” Makarrth said, as he, Jim and Mike ran in from outside rather winded, walked to the console and sat aro
und it. “Makarrth here.”
“Admiral, this is Greeze at COMSMOCOM. This is an encrypted Platinum-Alph priority message. NISA operatives in Kannatika report that Trudierre has ordered an invasion task-fleet to invade Earth on the Earth-date known as July 15th. Repeat, NISA Kannatika-based operatives report that Trudierre’s task-fleet will invade Earth on July 15th. The President orders you commence your battle plan immediately! Repeat, commence battle plan immediately!”
“Will comply” Makarrth said. “Earth-base out!”
He turned to Mike and said, “It’s time, Mike.”
“Trudierre’s about to attack?”
“Yes. Let’s get your gluties up there!”
“With pleasure, Admiral!” Mike said.
PERSONAL HELIPAD, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
12 JULY 11:48 PM CENTRAL TIME
“Are you sure you can fly this thing?!” an apprehensive Dr. Goldshtein said to the real Mike, who was inspecting Blue 1 (which was restored to normal size, uprated to the star-travel-capable “Super Stingfly” configuration with Amkerian markings, standing upright and ready to launch), while the real Glenn, Val, Donny, Jim, April and Abby were also gathered nearby.
“The Good Lord blessed me with His battle plan, Goldy,” the real Mike said, “along with the necessary instructions and skills to do my bit.”
“Here, Mike” Makarrth said slightly winded, as he ran toward Mike, carrying a spacesuit-donning wristband in his right hand. “You’ll need this.”
“Thanks, Admiral” Mike said, as he put on the wristband. “I almost forgot this is how I’ll put on the spacesuit I’ll need with the mere press of a button.”
“Stand aside, people!” spoke Buford, a burly middle-aged silver-haired man with a handlebar moustache who was one of Jim’s ranch hands and an ex-CIA technologist-agent, as he wheeled a red mobile safety steps ladder over to Blue 1.
Everyone made way, as Buford lined up the ladder with Blue 1’s port entry-hatch.
“Thanks, Buford” Mike said.
Mike pressed a button on the alien wristband and in a flash, he was covered from head-to-toe in an Amkerian combat flight-spacesuit, ready to board the fighter-craft.
“Dad…” Donny said. “I love you.”
Donny ran to his spacesuited father, and Mike embraced his youngest son.
“Please come back, okay, Dad?”
“I will, son” Mike said, as he hugged Donny. “I will.”
“Daddy…” Val said, with tears only a daughter could shed for her father, as he was about to off to the strangest war any man had ever gone off to fight. “Don’t die on me, please?”
“Don’t worry, sweetie” Mike told Val, before he kissed her right cheek. “The Lord is with me.”
“Dad,” Glenn said, as he hugged his father, “I know you’ll be back. I’ll just say…” Glenn went Star Wars-gutsy-reverent as he said to Mike while extending his right hand, “May the Lord be with you!”
“And with you” Mike said to Glenn, before he said to the others. “All of you. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got a life-and-death battle to fight.”
Mike put down the visor of his spacesuit’s helmet that instantly activated its life-support mechanisms. He then quickly climbed up the mobile safety steps to Blue 1’s port-hatch and turned the lever that opened the port side hatch, as well as causing a safety bar to slide outward from under the top of the port side hatchway. He grabbed the bar, quickly lifted his legs and butt, and swung himself inward half-way into the left seat.
Mike then turned to face those below him, and gave them a thumbs-up salute. In return, they each gave Mike gave a thumbs-up. Mike then slid himself fully inside Blue 1 and closed the hatch, as Buford speedily moved the mobile safety steps ladder away.
“To the barn, people!” Jim said, motioning his right arm towards the horse stable where the teleport-capsule was, while Buford and Glenn wheeled the ladder back into the same barn as the others followed them.
COCKPIT OF FIGHTER-SPACECRAFT “BLUE 1”
“Blue 1 to Mission Control” Mike said like a gung-ho jet-jock through Blue 1’s radioed to the teleport-capsule inside the horse-barn via his own spacesuit’s radio. “All systems are green for go.”
“Copy that, Blue 1” Makarrth radioed, also sounding like a jet-jock. “Blue 1 liftoff countdown. Thirty Earth-seconds…” Five seconds passed. “Twenty-five seconds…” Another five seconds. “Twenty seconds… Fifteen seconds. Launch in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”
PERSONAL HELIPAD, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
13 JULY 12:00 MIDNIGHT CENTRAL TIME
Blue 1’s rear white-light maglev-panels quickly lit up and shone brightly, and then the ship itself darted spaceward like a missile on its mission to save Earth from the invading Kannatikan Armed Forces starfleet determined to invade Earth and either subjugate the planet or annihilate it — unless Mike stopped the invasion fleet first.
COCKPIT OF FIGHTER-SPACECRAFT “BLUE 1”
“Blue 1 to Mission Control” Mike said with jet-jock enthusiasm, “All systems are still green!”
“How do you feel, Mike?” Makarrth radioed to Mike.
“Awesome! Probably like our spacemen Yuri Gagarin or John Glenn felt during their respective trips around the world!”
“Good to hear that, Blue 1!” Makarrth radioed. “How does your planet look to you?”
“What a view!” Mike said in happy astonishment. “I can see much of the pollution we’ve fouled up the planet with, but otherwise, it’s the best darned-looking blue-white-green-brown marble in the Universe! And our planet’s Flat Earth Society can just go stick itself up where the sun doesn’t shine! YEE-HAH!”
“I can see you really like it, Mike!” Jim radioed.
“Like it?!” Mike said with jet-jock jesting. “I LOVE IT! Ha-HA!!”
“I wish I could be with you, Daddy” Val radioed. “You know how I’ve always wanted to fly in space, right?”
“Say your prayers for Khraavie and me, baby, and you will. Count on it!”
“I will, Daddy.”
“I’m placing myself into stasis-suspended animation,” Mike said, “and will awaken when Potty-head-Trudierre’s banditos enter Solar Systemic space. So, to you, my friends and loved ones back on what Apollo 8 Commander Frank Borman called ‘the Good Earth’ and what Canadian media guru Marshall McLuhan called our ‘global village’, I just want to say good night, and ask that you all pray for our planet like you’ve never prayed before.”
“Marshall McLuhan?” Glenn asked, puzzled. “Who’s he?”
“He was an iconic Canadian media professor” Makarrth said. “Khraavie told me all about him.”
Glenn took Makarrth’s word for it as he sheepishly said, “Oh.”
“Placing myself into stasis-sleep…” Mike radioed, “…now.”
Mike pressed the spacesuit buttons that began the stasis-sleep process, and said, “Nightie-night.”
With those words, Mike went into a deep-sleep for roughly two Earth-days, as Blue 1 transported him outward beyond lunar orbit.
As Blue 1 headed outward, Jesus spoke into Mike’s mind, Remember, Mike, I am with you always, now and forevermore.
As Mike drifted off to sleep, Mike was somewhat reassured as Jesus’ voice said, Mike, trust Me.
MINNEAPOLIS CONVENTION CENTER
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
SAME MOMENT
The week’s rioting had left its “Black-Day-In-July”-style scars on Minneapolis.
As Khraa/Astra, wearing her spacesuit set to invisibility/stealth mode that allowed her to dart through the streets as if she was The Flash, sneakily ran to the Convention Center, she saw a plethora of carnage so brutal that she became nauseated.
As she sped past the scenes of destruction, Khraa/Astra lamented to herself with a caring conscience for Earth’s humanity, “Just like most of Eurasia during Earth’s Second World War, Earth’s Middle East
for many years now, Argentina during much of Earth’s so-called 20th century, not to mention 1967 Detroit. We just can’t seem to get along!”
With her suit’s anti-nausea devices, Khraa/Astra kept herself from vomiting despite her heartache for humanity.
Once she arrived, the invisible spacewoman said in prayer, “Thank you, dear Lord, for keeping me alive”, before darting past the security guards and their systems so swiftly that neither guards nor scanners could detect her presence.
Thwarting the guard dogs by placing speedy, effective telepathic suggestions deep into each canine’s brain, Khraa/Astra sneaked through the pitch-darkness into the Exhibit Hall Theater and deactivated all security detection devices.
“Now for a real triple-cross!” Khraa/Astra said.
She aimed her memcon-gun in her spacesuit at the rear left corner of the hall and fired a beam that materialized into a ten-foot tall bright white light cross that lit up the room. She did the same with the front of the hall where the podium was located, fired her memcon at it, and a second bright white light ten-foot cross lit up from above the podium. She fired a third ten-foot cross of white light at the rear right corner, and the room was bathed in strong white light.
Satisfied that her three light-crosses were in good working order, Khraa/Astra placed them on standby, which turned them off and shrunk them to nanoscopic size to avoid detection. Darkness bathed the Exhibit Hall Theater once again.
Khraa/Astra pressed a button on her suit’s controls that reduced her size down to that of a housefly. She then emitted an invisible grapple-beam aimed at a ceiling fixture fired from a beamer on the right sleeve of her spacesuit, pulled herself up to the fixture speedily, and secured herself to it with a grav-field.
“Those Spider-Man videos I watched paid off!” Khraa/Astra said to herself, just as a hungry female spider quickly crawled towards the miniaturized, spacesuited Khraa/Astra. Despite being invisible, even to the spider, she feared that the oncoming arachnid wanted to make a near-midnight snack out of her. Khraa/Astra telepathically suggested stark terror into the spider’s brain, and the starved arachnid fled away in terror!