October 30, 2017 | Author: Anonymous | Category: N/A
It most likely was a clasp from my smock, not an “alien”-implanted remote-controlled defibrillator ......
November 12, 2011
FULL E-BOOK AFRICA IS TO 1ST WORLD COUNTRIES ON EARTH, AS EARTH IS TO ALIEN NATIONS This E-book is a collection of all the documents on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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CLICK TO QUICK-JUMP SHORT-STORIES CATALOGUE ..................................................................................... 3 ABDUCTION ............................................................................................................. 25 ABDUCTION SPAM ................................................................................................... 102 AFTER THE “DEAD LIST” – I’M A DEER.......................................................................... 133 DEATHS AT AZCRUK ................................................................................................. 195 DISCLOSURE FROM THE ALIENS’ POINT-OF-VIEW – CHOICE FICTION ..................................... 266 DISCO BALL ............................................................................................................ 333 ESCAPING THE WAR ................................................................................................. 348 GECKO ON TABLE STARING UP AT LIGHT ........................................................................ 370 I LOSE MORE LITTLE BROTHERS, VOLUME 3 .................................................................... 384 MEMOIRES OF A THYLACINE ...................................................................................... 447 PANTHERIZED ......................................................................................................... 494 RACCOON – AWR AWOO .......................................................................................... 601 RED-PANDA NANNY ................................................................................................ 632 SOAP OPERA .......................................................................................................... 704 SUPERWAREHOUSE-MEGAMANSION .......................................................................... 794 TYRANNOSAURS ARE PEEPING-TOMS... AND PRANKSTERS TOO ........................................... 896 THE WHITE WOLF – A ROMANCE ............................................................................... 918 ZOOKEEPER............................................................................................................ 999 A TRAVELER’S GUIDE TO THE ASHTARI EMPIRE: INVIROTH .............................................. 1052 BEHIND THE STORIES, A DUMMY’S GUIDE TO THE 25TH CENTURY ...................... 1460 GEOPOLITICAL RAMIFICATIONS OF UFO/ALIEN DISCLOSURE............................................. 1461 AFRICA IS TO 1ST WORLD COUNTRIES ON EARTH, AS EARTH IS TO ALIEN NATIONS .................. 1501 THE REALLY WEIRD STUFF ....................................................................................... 1665 THE NARRATIVE .................................................................................................... 1805 PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY ........................................................................ 2047 PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY 2 ...................................................................... 2174 PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY 3 ...................................................................... 2834
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SHORT-STORIES CATALOGUE Mike Rozak Copyleft 2010-2011 Revised 17/10/2011
E-BOOK FORMATTED SHORT “STORIES” If you haven’t read any of my stories, I recommend the following…
for UFO/Alien enthusiasts:
Abduction – A narration of my alien abduction in 2009, which started all of this. (This is NOT a fictional story, it happened in real life.) (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbduction.pdf)
Abduction Spam – Do you know anyone on an abduction spam-list? This is a Dadaist short-story about what it’s like to abduct an Earthling… from the alien’s point-of-view. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbductionSpam.pdf)
Disclosure from the aliens’ point-of-view – Choice fiction – This is a “Choose Your Own Adventure”-style book, where you participate in “disclosure” on Earth-Sol as an alien. You decide what your alien character does. See if you can help “disclosure” to happen smoothly. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDisclosureChoiceFiction.pdf)
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for Science-fiction readers:
Pantherized – Follow a Golden Panther as she is drafted into the military, trained as a crewmember aboard a battleship, and then ultimately partakes in a space-battle against a Hominid “death-star”. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakPantherized.pdf)
Tyrannosaurs are peeping-Toms… and pranksters too – “They’re monsters when they’re little [children].” This is a short-story about a Tyrannosaur-girl and her best friend, their pranks, and their pranks get their house blown up. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakTyrannosaur.pdf)
for Furries:
After the “dead list” – I’m a deer – A short story about life immediately after death. This is a cross between “Beetlejuice” and Steven Spielberg’s “Amazing Stories”. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDeadListDeer.pdf)
The White Wolf – A Romance – Wolfen (Wolf-evolved people) romances are very strange, especially when one of them stands on two legs, and the other-one is four-legged. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakTheWhiteWolf.pdf)
Feel free to E-mail these stories (or their links) to your friends.
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ABDUCTION February 2010
A narration of my alien abduction in 2009, which started all of this. (This is NOT a fictional story, it happened in real life.)
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbduction.pdf)
For back-story details helpful for understanding some of the short stories, take a look at the “Behind the stories” section in http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullEBook.pdf.
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ABDUCTION SPAM July 2011
Do you know anyone on an abduction spam-list? This is a Dadaist short-story about what it’s like to abduct an Earthling… from an alien’s point-of-view.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbductionSpam.pdf)
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AFTER THE “DEAD LIST” – I’M A DEER September 2010
A short story about life immediately after death. This is a cross between “Beetlejuice” and Steven Spielberg’s “Amazing Stories”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beetlejuice, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazing_Stories_(TV_series) )
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDeadListDeer.pdf)
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DEATHS AT AZCRUK June 2011
WARNING: This story is emotionally disturbing, at least for me as an author. In my humble opinion, while it is not as well written as Shirley Jackson’s, “The Lottery”, it is MUCH more macabre. The story is also sexually explicit. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Jackson, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery)
I thought I was going to spend a year monitoring and helping “primitive” Cheetah-evolved people. Half-way through my work-study-volunteer program, I was enslaved by the Hominids and transported to the planet Azcruk, where I was kept locked in an atticstoreroom by a battle-axe Hominid woman… and my only friend there asked me to help her commit suicide.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDeathsAtAzcruk.p df)
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DISCLOSURE FROM THE ALIENS’ POINT-OF-VIEW – CHOICE FICTION May 2011
This is a “Choose Your Own Adventure” style book, where you participate in “disclosure” on Earth-Sol as an alien. You decide what your alien character does. See if you can help “disclosure” to happen smoothly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_Your_Own_Adventure)
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDisclosureChoiceFiction.pdf)
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DISCO BALL August 2010
Humorous science-fiction short-story about a slaver sphere.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDiscoBall.pdf)
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ESCAPING THE WAR May 2011
I can’t get away from the war. I first experienced the war as infantry, fighting the Alotians. After I died there, I became an apprentice-medic, but was evacuated/relocated. During my relocation spaceplane-journey, my transport was attacked by a Hominid battleship. Once-again killed, I am now sharing a body on Earth, watching the war approach.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakEscapingTheWarNor.p df)
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GECKO ON TABLE STARING UP AT LIGHT August 2010
A semi-poem about a gecko-evolved woman depressed about her best -friend’s death.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakGeckoTableLight.pdf)
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I LOSE MORE LITTLE BOTHERS, VOLUME 3 August 2010
Life for a small village of low-tech Raccoon-evolved people.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakLoseBrothersThree.pdf)
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MEMOIRES OF A THYLACINE April 2010
A short-story memoire of a Zeen involved with “disclosure” on Earth-Sol.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakMemoires OfAThylacine.pdf)
For back-story details helpful for understanding some of the short stories, take a look at the “Behind the stories” section in http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullE Book.pdf.
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PANTHERIZED July 2011
Follow a Golden Panther as she is drafted into the military, trained as a crewmember aboard a battleship, and then ultimately partakes in a space-battle against a fourhundred-kilometer-diameter Hominid “core-ship”.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakPant herized.pdf)
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RED-PANDA NANNY May 2011
A Red-Panda university-student takes a summer-break job as “clever-pet” nanny to an Alotian family. It’s a humorous cross between Marry Poppins and The Sound of Music. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_poppins, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sound_of_Music_(film) )
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakPandaNanny.pdf)
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SOAP OPERA April 2011
A Saurian, and an Elk-evolved person, are taken hostage by Hominids to appear as supporting cast-members in a Hominid science-fiction soap-opera. (Mature content.)
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakSoapOpera.pdf)
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TYRANNOSAURS ARE PEEPING-TOMS… AND PRANKSTERS TOO June 2011
“They’re monsters when they’re little [children].” This is a short-story about a Tyrannosaur-girl and her best friend, their pranks, and their pranks get their house blown up.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakTyrannosaur. pdf)
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THE WHITE WOLF – A ROMANCE June 2011
Wolfen (Wolf-evolved people) romances are very strange, especially when one of them stands on two legs, and the other-one is four-legged.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakTheWhiteWolf.pdf)
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RACCOON – AWR AWOO July 2011
(Not yet finished) I was a scholastically-underperforming Raccoon, trying to scam a free summer-camp weekend away from university.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakRaccoonAwrAwoo.pdf)
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SUPERWAREHOUSE-MEGAMANSION September 2011
(Not yet finished) Imagine a mansion six-hundred meters by three-hundred meters, by nine floors. One-thousand staff. One-thousand exotic Animal-people slaves. And all the blue-water you can drink. (Mature content.)
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakSuperWarehouseMegaMansion.pdf)
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ZOOKEEPER August 2011
(Not yet finished) Have you ever wanted to be a zookeeper on a “wilderness planet”? Do you enjoy giving birth to endangered species after having their embryos artificially implanted in your womb? How about discarding your zookeeper body and “going bush” as a wild animal-Cheetah?
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakZookeeper.pdf)
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A TRAVELER’S GUIDE TO THE ASHTARI EMPIRE: INVIROTH (Unfinished) A full-length fantasy novel about a group of friends who try to imitate a famous historical explorer, Derek Halfstar, and track down a murderer in “modern” times. They find themselves caught in a paramilitary conflict between the Human “Brotherhood” and Ferazi “Aliari”, and a power-struggle between the Wizards and Technological Unification Organization.
(http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakTravelersGuideAshtariEmpire.pdf)
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FOR MORE READING If you want to learn more about my thoughts on people from other planets (“aliens”), take a look at the “Behind the stories” section in my E-book:
http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullEBook.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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November 12, 2011
ABDUCTION Mike Rozak Copyleft 2010
JOURNAL ENTRY (8 DECEMBER, 2002) Modifications to the journal entry are italicized. I was volunteering at the zoo. Person-A drove me out to a backup property where they were keeping some antelope. They had a house by a river. I think Person-B was also there. In a previous dream (that I don't remember now, but I remembered when I was dreaming) I stayed there for a week watching the place. It was raining hard and there were storm clouds outside. I looked out the window and saw something strange... it looked like a large building amidst the cloud. PersonA and Person-B saw it too. (The scene kind of reminded me of Close Encounters of the 3d kind - with clouds all around the space ship) I ran outside and started waving towards the UFO. It landed near me, coming so close it almost hit me. A door (like you'd find on a flying skyscraper made of glass) was in front of me. I opened it and entered. I walked into something that reminded me of a diner. (It was actually the kitchenette of the UFO.) I waited in line and talked to someone that came to great me. They said they had been looking for me and were glad to find me. (They were human looking, but I kept trying to see through any illusion. I couldn't. I would later remember that they were black-and-white lemur-evolved.) They also mentioned that they had sent a diversionary ship to keep the RAF busy (actually, the off-planet Homo Sapiens) while they came down. 25 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 While waiting in line I noticed that stars were flying past the window and we must be in space. (No stars were flying past.) Someone came up to me and said they'd have to do a mind blank so I wouldn't remember any of this. I said OK. I was thinking about having them look at the damaged area on my retina that I've always had, but which seems to be annoying me over the last few weeks. Interestingly, I didn't see any aliens on the ship. Also interesting: I was very eager to take a ride on the UFO. Most people wouldn't be so eager.
Some interesting observations about the “dream”:
The lemur-evolved woman was more afraid of me than I was of her.
I showed this text to a number of people, whom I had previously shown some UFO photographs I had taken. None of them put 2 +2 together and asked if I had been “abducted” any other times, which I had.
THE NIGHT BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) NO BRAIN, THE DRIVE DOWN THE HILL, AND WONDERLAND A combination of swine flu, kill bots, venom bots, and some other factors really damages one’s brain. I awoke after sunset, feeling like I was in a dream.
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November 12, 2011 Earlier in the day, I was told that a UFO would pick me up that night. All I had to do was drive down my hill and crash my car into a tree. I later discovered that the plan was to get me into a non-lethal accident so that someone would drive me to the hospital, where I would receive medical care. Having enough sense NOT to get in a car accident, I drove to the base of the hill, park on the side of the road, and began walking to the nearest open field where a UFO could use a claw to (extradimensionally) pick me up. On the way there, someone telepathically suggested that I pull off my pants and walk in the middle of the road in order to look crazy (or drunk). I had so little brain left that this sounded like a good idea, and I complied. While wandering insanely/drunkenly down the middle of the road, a car drove past me and didn’t stop. Without being rescued, I reached an open field. I stood there, waiting to get picked up. (I think) that while I was waiting, my baryons were rotated, pushing me half-way into a close layer that I call “wonderland”. Colours are slightly different – more purple and more grey. It’s difficult to breathe due to low oxygen. Insect noises are louder, and different insects are audible. I was no longer sure if I was dead or alive.
“YOU’RE DEAD, MIKE. YOU’RE DEAD.” After waiting a few minutes in the empty field, I heard a telepathic voice: “You’re dead, Mike. You’re dead.” By that point, my mind had gone from a dream-like daze into one where I actually believed I could be dead. I didn’t know where I was. I looked around for my body but didn’t see one. I vaguely doubted my own death.
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November 12, 2011 In front of me, a dotted black line began to appear in the darkness of a wonderland night... or at least I think it began to appear. Someone said, “That’s the black line of death. Turn around and walk away from it.” Though I didn’t know it at the time, I would later learn that the dotted line was a ramp gateway materializing in front of me. If the gateway fully materialized, which it hadn’t, and I walked up it, I would have entered someone’s ship... No one knew if it was a crewed by friendlies or enemies. I walked away from the line, and a few minutes later the black-line of death appeared in front of my path. Once again, a “voice” said, “Go back. Do not walk on the black line of death.” Not wishing to die, while thinking that I could very well be dead, I veered away from the line and walked into the middle of a paddock. I had no idea where I was. It was nearly pitch black. Around this time, a voice said that “shade adders” were around. They existed in a reality between my own and the land of death. If I stepped on them, they would bite me and kill me instantly. I imagined I could barely see them in the wonderland night. I’m not certain if they were visible. While wandering aimlessly for the next thirty minutes, I was occasionally informed when “shade adders” were nearby so I could avoid them. At some point I was told they were following me, ensuring that I couldn’t turn around and walk back into the world of the living. I could see the lights of a few UFOs flying overhead, searching for me. The ships were unable to materialize, and their pilots couldn’t find me because my “energy” was so low.
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NEVER PLAY AN ARTHROPOD-INVENTED REAL-LIFE ADVENTURE GAME WHILE BRAIN DEAD “You are in the Elysium fields. You can walk straight ahead to a road, turn left on the road, and make it to Paradise, where you can return back to reality. Or, you can cross between the second and third wires of the barbed-wire fence to your right, and into Hades, where you can then cross the river Styx and return back to life.” Huh? I walked to the right, carefully counted to the proper gap between wires, and slid between them, puncturing my hands and back on the barbs. “Now that you are in Hades, all statements are negated. No “nots” is now a “not”, one “not” is a “not not”, and “not not” is “no nots”.” “To cross the river Styx, you should not not find Chiron near those bushes.” My brain found the double-negative adventure-game puzzle to be extremely taxing. I walked to the bushes but couldn’t find Chiron, or a boat. The river Styx was just a dry creek bed. It dawned on me that there should be water in the “river”, but that thought lasted around eight seconds, and I decided to wander up the dry creek bed for Chiron. “In front of you is a stick that you can not not push branches away with. To see the stick, open your third eye horizontally wide, and vertically narrow.” How do I do that? “Just think it to yourself.” I did so, and in front of me, I could see a dim blue-purple light over a stick. I picked up the adventure-game object.
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November 12, 2011 “You can not not use the stick to push aside the branches. You are only allowed to use any tool two times before you need to find a different tool.” I spent several hours wandering around trying to play the adventure game. The hints became easier and more numerous, but my brain failed so much that I couldn’t remember the telepathic sentence spoken only ten seconds before. After I wandered up and down the “river” Styx a few times, I asked about the lack of water. “Oh. [There’s no water? We can’t really tell.] You need to climb up the hill to open up the dam and let the river’s water flow, or you need to cast a magic spell to summon the water.” My brain began to think... Can I have see some documentation about how to play this game? “Uh, no. [We’re making it up as we go along, to try and get you back to civilization without getting in trouble with the Homo Sapiens empire.]” Eventually, I decided to stop playing the game and forge my own path. At the top of the hill, I saw a house, shed, and farming machinery. I now thought I was 20-70 years in the future and that everyone had died in a nuclear war. It only took a few days of my time to make it out of Hades though. I stumbled up the hill. My foot had been sprained (actually broken) a few days before, but I didn’t feel the injury. Up top, I discovered a post-apocalyptic demountable walk-in chiller, entered, found a bottle of water, and drank thirstily. My neighbour walked out of his house and saw me come out of his chiller, without pants or shoes (which I had traded in for extra hint points). “Mike? What are you doing?” He looked awfully good for twenty to seventy years later. Huh? 30 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Are you all right?” Huh? “Get in my ute. I’ll take you home.”
PLAYING ADMINISTRATOR Ten minutes later I was sitting on the steps of my house. My neighbour had returned home. In my mind, I was still playing an adventure game. “We can’t pick you up. The rules won’t allow it?” said Clarke (a person formerly known as a “grey”). Can I change the rules? No answer. I wish to change access privileges to “administrator”. “You have been changed to an administrator.” Change the rule that prevents me from being picked up by a UFO so that I can be picked up now. “You can now be picked up,” said an administrator. “I can’t pick you up,” said Clarke. “I’m not allowed to get close enough to the ground.” Change the rule that prevents Clarke from getting close to the ground. “I still can’t pick you up.” 31 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 An administrator said, “Your rule changes have been overridden.” Make a rule to promote me to a second-level administrator. “A tenth-level administrator? Sure.” As a tenth-level administrator, I have higher administrator rights, and override the previous overriding of my rules. “We have just changed ourselves to eleventh-level administrators and overridden your changes.” I continued to try and verbally outmanoeuvre the other administrators of the “game” by inventing more complex and obscure rules. I quickly proved incapable, especially when someone used five “nots” in a row and rules expanded from five to thirty-word sentences. Clarke joined in, but he couldn’t make headway either. After half an hour of this, I gave up, deciding that I must be in real life, and went to bed. I shivered with cold (or infection) for a few minutes before I fell asleep.
OOPS I would later learn that I had caused a bit of an “incident” that night while trying to get “abducted” as ships of the Homo Sapiens empire(?) prevented anyone from picking me up. People began to wonder why the empire (or someone else) was so intent on preventing contactees from leaving.
DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009)
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THE WAITING ROOM I woke soon after sunrise. My right foot wouldn’t bear weight. It was swollen (from a break), black-and-blue (from internal bleeding), with infected blisters (from the barefoot wanderings the night before). I couldn’t walk. I crawled to the door. My neighbour, who had driven me home the night before, arrived before I reached the door. I’m not sure if I crawled out of bed when I heard him drive up, or if he arrived after I crawled to the door. He saw my condition and rushed to fetch the local doctor, who lived a few houses away. (Rural living has its advantages.) Both returned, along with some other concerned neighbours. They helped be out of the house and into a car, where I was driven to Darwin Hospital. I recall filling in some basic emergency-room paperwork. I was asked to sign some sort of waver, but I couldn’t understand even a single sentence of legalese; so I didn’t sign. After I sat in a hair to wait, Clarke (or perhaps someone else) telepathically warned: “They are looking for you.” “Keep your shields up.” (I had no idea what my shields were, so I tried to think about blocking my brain.) “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself,” was Clarke’s response to my attempt. I felt a short chill, and shivered slightly. “They just scanned you.” Some time passed. “They’re scanning you again.” Again, I shivered. 33 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 More time passed. To occupy my brain, I looked around at the other waiting people, wondering if their injury was more severe than mine... if they’d get called first... and how long I’d have to wait. There wasn’t much else to do in a waiting room. I certainly wasn’t going to tell my neighbour about the previous nights’ alien-originated adventure game. “Don’t look at anyone. They’ll scan them.” Huh? “See that person who you just looked at. They just scanned him.” “Put your shields up again. They’re about to scan you.” I shivered briefly again.
NO CAST, NO ANTIBIOT ICS, MENTAL TEST Within an hour, a doctor called me in. He did some routine checks, looking at my eyes, feet, etc. Nothing unexpected. I thought he’d send me on to the plasterers for a cast on my foot... which was either badly sprained or broken. I pointed to my barbed-wire impaled hands, scrapes on my arms, and infected blisters on my feet: “I need some antibiotics,” I said. “Not now. Antibiotics are dangerous in your current state of health.” Huh? Disregarding the antibiotics, the doctor asked, “What year is it?” 2009.
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November 12, 2011 “What month?” July. “What day” I don’t know. What about my cast? And I need antibiotics. “Can you count backwards from 97 by 7’s.” 97. 90. 82. 75. 68. I couldn’t pass the counting test. “That’s good enough. I’m going to send you for a CAT scan.” Having entered the hospital for a broken (or sprained foot) and antibiotics, I received a CAT scan, and returned to my curtained alcove.
WAVY SUIT It was around 7:00 as far as I could tell; no sun reached the baby-blue-painted hospital ward. My brain was numb; I could hardly think. I was given a tasteless sandwich, allowed to lie back, and the alcove curtains were closed for my privacy. I closed my eyes for a few minutes, opened them, and noticed a pitch-black “shadow” standing just left of me. I didn’t dare move, so I only observed the “shadow” out of the corner of my left eye. The “shadow” that stood by my hospital bed looked like the black silhouette of a four-foot tall person. The edges of the shadow where wavy and rippling.
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November 12, 2011 I still didn’t move. With thumb and index finger positioned to pick up a small object, like an insect, the shadow extended its arm towards me. It (most likely a she) slid her fingers a few centimetres into my abdomen, and pulled something out. I didn’t feel anything. I closed my eyes and (I think) fell asleep.
A week later, while at Darwin’s mental institution, I was visited in the middle of the night by someone else in a wavy-suit.
POTENTIAL CONFLICT IMAGINED When I next awoke I had a sense of déjà vu, or, a feeling that I had dreamt (or lived) the next fifteen minutes of my life before. I was still in my curtained alcove. My brain was dysfunctional. I “knew” that UFOs were hovering above the hospital. I “knew” that two rival sides, a rivalry I had learned of a few days previously, had people invisibly positioning themselves around the hospital. I couldn’t see them, but I “knew” they were wandering around, eyeing each other off, weapons ready. From my déjà vu, I “knew” that open conflict was moments away. I expected greys, and their rival race, to suddenly appear and begin shooting. “If people start appearing, roll out of your bed and onto the ground. You’re less-likely to be accidently hit (and killed) by our weapons’ beams that way.” 36 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I waited, tension high. “Can you sneak out of your alcove, and out the door to your right?” I considered the idea, but didn’t want to behave any more crazy than I already had. “Don’t sneak out the doors. You may start a war.”... or was it? “If a war erupts, you’ll need to rush out the hallway to your right.” I’m not sure which telepathic message I “heard”. I waited a few more minutes, expecting people to appear at any moment. I fell asleep... Since then, I have learned that falling asleep is an excellent way of resolving problems with “aliens”.
4000 LEVELS OF HELL I woke sometime later, and quickly entered into a bizarre telepathic conversation that caused me to coin the phrase “religious wacko”. Up until this point, my telepathic conversations had obviously been with people (from other planets). They were good-natured, a bit odd, and never accusational. While I don’t remember the details of the “4000 levels of hell” conversation, here’s the gist: I was having a telepathic conversation with a different “alien”, one who had earlier commented on the poor nutrition of my hospital sandwich. I don’t recall the topic; it may have been about what was happening in the hospital, or my health, or something else. Religious voice: “You are evil, you are sentenced to the second level of hell where liars(?) go.”
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November 12, 2011 We kept on talking telepathically about more interesting subjects than hell. Religious voice: “For consorting with the devil [the “alien” I was talking to], you are now sentenced to the seventh level of hell, where you will be buried up to your head. You [the alien] are sentenced to the twelfth level of hell.” Huh? For some reason, the two of us got into a mud-slinging match... or rather, the religious voice read into our conversation, finding fault with everything we said. Within ten minutes of further conversation, the religious voice promoted me to the second level of heaven, while my alien friend was down to the fifteenth level of hell. My “alien” friend tried to get me to shut up at that point so I wouldn’t get into any more trouble... but I couldn’t resist the conversation. Ten minutes of conversation later, we had both been gradually downgraded to the 4000th level of hell for some unremembered and unspeakable sins. 4000 levels of hell, the previous night’s adventure-game in Hades (NOT hell), and my deteriorating brain, led me to worry about my own sanity. For the previous two weeks, I had pleasant and rational telepathic conversations with people (from other planets). All of the sudden, fundamentalist Christian religions (with 4000 levels of hell?) were brought into the fray... which was odd, because I never really believed in heaven or hell. The fundamentalist-Christian voice wouldn’t return until the middle of the next day.
NEAR COMA
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November 12, 2011 Soon after being committed to 4000 levels of hell by a fundamentalist-Christian telepath, I was wheeled off the RAPU unit, where I spent the night. I was nearly in a coma by that point. To keep my mind active and prevent me from falling in a coma, I was jokingly put through “grey training” by a telepathic companion. I won’t repeat the transcript of that night... but all the mental and physical exercises were humorously insulting to “greys”. Some of the tasks involved lifting up my arm to push the “blorple” (blue + purple) “button”, a blorple-coloured decolourization that moved around my field of view. I don’t know how much I slept that night, but the hours passed quickly, and my brain didn’t go into a coma.
HOME VISIT (1997?) I awoke in my Seattle bedroom in the middle of the night. In front of me stood a “grey”. Startled (kind of), I leapt out of bed, ran past the “grey”, and bolted down the hallway leading from my bedroom. I ran into a large, walking, 70’s shag-carpet that gently caught me. I don’t remember any more.
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TRACKING DOWN MY FIRST UFO (MID-JULY 2009) Waking up from a nap, I heard a subsonic hum, almost below my threshold of hearing. For most people, the frequency would be too low to be perceived... or their refrigerator (and other house noises) would mask the sound. Rotating my head back and forth, I tracked the hum outside of my house, where it became quieter. I suspect that all the steel framing, walls, and roofing in my house somehow amplified the sound. Even though the hum was quieter outside, I followed the sound’s direction down into a valley behind my house. Near the floor of the valley, the sound came from all around. I didn’t see anything. I looked up and noticed a cloud directly overhead... ... which was unusual since it was the only cloud in the sky. ... and it was also unusual since it was a 100 meter long cloud, 10 meters wide, (tailshaped) and only a few hundred meters above the ground. The “tail’s” direction was obviously determined by the dry-season’s strong breeze. ... which meant that whatever created the cloud was on the windward side of the cloud. I studied the cloud for a minute. The hum moved to the east. I stubbornly followed the hum half way up a hill, where it once again came from all around me. Once again I looked up. A new cloud had formed above me. 40 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Oddly, this cloud had straight edges, like a cloud-drawn outline of a cube. When the cloud noticed that I noticed this, it bolted southward... or at least small rotoscoped cloud-lets dotted their way southwards. The hum vanished. I trudged up the hill, following the short cloud trail south. The trail disappeared after 100 meters, half way to my house. I had lost. Giving up, I returned home, climbed up on my deck, and looked over the vista to the south. Around a kilometre away, I saw a small cloud, but I was unsure if it was the fleeing cloud. I decided to return back to the valley to see if the cloud had returned. After walking fifty meters from my house, I turned around and saw a blorplecoloured diamond-shaped vapour only a few meters above my house’s steel roof. (No, I didn’t take any photos until months later, after UFO pilots gave me permission to take photos of their ships.) The blorple mist hovered over my steel roof for half a minute, and then evaporated as it flew over me. A trail of dried autumn-like leaves fell in its wake. Following the falling-leaf trail, I tracked the UFO’s path a few hundred meters to the west. I lost track of the UFO when it ran out of leaves. No one will admit to piloting the UFO. Apparently, it got “stuck” on my oddly-shaped steel roof (and electrically well-grounded house). Luckily for the pilot and me, the UFO didn’t crash into my house.
CALTECH (1987-1991) When at Caltech in Pasadena, California, my roommate and I would perk up our ears at night when we heard subsonic hums; no one else heard them. We assumed the sounds were generated from large trucks. 41 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Looking back, the subsonic hums may not have been produced by trucks... The UFOs hovering over my house near Darwin, Australia, produced similar-sounding hums.
FREE MEDICAL AND DENTAL (1998?) I woke up in my bed. Several people dressed in doctor’s gowns were leaning over me. I wasn’t afraid, so I let myself fell back asleep. For a few weeks prior to the experience, my left nipple was inflamed. A week after this dream, I noticed that my left nipple no longer hurt, and was slightly depressed, as though some flesh had been surgically removed.
JOURNAL ENTRY (23/9/2000) I had a dream where Someone was telling me that I had some arterial blockage in one of my ventricles, but that it was old damage. It seemed like the lower left side.
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FIVE NIGHTS BEFORE D AY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MID-JULY 2009) DANCING It was a night… but not dark and stormy. “You are in danger,” announced Clarke. “Some people are planning to take you by force.” “They are going to teleport you, if possible.” I didn’t like the sound of this. I had previously spent several days in telepathic conversation with Clarke, who named himself after Arthur C. Clarke. I spent one night watching “2001: A Space Odyssey” and telepathically discussing the movie with him. I suggested that someone place a monolith in front of the White House for fun. I also pointed out how atrocious the interior decoration of the post-jump-gate apartment was. During the conversation, he mentioned that he had seen the movie when it opened, alongside some US military brass; they didn’t “get it”. “What I need to you do is step to the left.” “Now step forward.” “Step right”. “Step left.” Why am I doing this? “If you keep moving, they’ll find it difficult to get a lock on you, and won’t be able to teleport you.” “Step back.” “Step right.” 43 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Are you following a pattern? “No, I’m just using the random-number generator in my brain.” “Step left.” “Step left.” “If you start feeling light-headed and weird, tell me. They may have a lock on you, and may be teleporting you. I’ll try to interfere in that case.” “And two steps backwards.” This went on for some time. “Time to move to another room. Can you walk quickly to your west bedroom wing?” Yes. I hurried there. Once inside, Clarke began with, “Step forward”. “Left.” “Right.” “Diagonal.” How do you know where I am? “I can track you on my display. You show up as a small dot.” I imagined a glimpse of Clarke’s display. “Forward.” “Step right.” The dance went on for an hour. “I think they have given up teleporting you.” 44 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “You can rest now.” “Be careful. They can come through your fly screen. It’s more difficult for them to pass through walls.” “Sit against your bathroom wall and rest. The wall should provide you some protection.” After fifteen minutes of rest and chat, Clarke said, “I think they’re gone. Head back to your bedroom [west wing] and you can go to sleep after awhile.”
SOMEONE ON MY STEPS I walked to the other side of my house, where my bedroom was located. When I got there, Clarke warned, “They may be here [landed in encounter suits].” I froze and listened. After a few minutes, I heard my deck’s floorboards shift as if someone were walking on it. I could imagine a grey-clad (in a grey encounter suit) person slinking like Gollum (from the Lord of the Rings), up my steps and towards my room. I didn’t move. The sounds ceased. “They’re gone,” said Clarke. I looked outside.
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November 12, 2011 Wait a minute, I don’t want to get caught in the middle of anything. I don’t want to take sides. “They’re dangerous,” warned Clarke. (Or something to that effect.) I walked into my kitchen, grabbed a piece of printer paper, and wrote, “Do you want to talk?” in large letters. I placed the sign on my deck, at the top of my steps, and weighed it down with glass filled with water. Clarke must of thought I was crazy.
A randomly deep thought First contact, lesson #116: Blue ballpoint-pen writing is NOT visible to people in encounter suits. “They” could read my mind though, and they appreciated the offer to talk.
BLORPLE LIGHTS ON MY DRIVEWAY “Your house is too confining. Can you walk somewhere else that is open?” I can dance on my driveway. “Do that. Walk quickly down the pathway to your driveway.” My driveway parking area is quite large so that if/when I have parties there is enough parking space. 46 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “They’re here.” “Be careful, they’re stronger than you think.” Once on my driveway I began to “dance”, moving left, forward, back, right, etc. “If they grab you, don’t fight. We’ll try to get you back.” “And whatever you do, DON’T attack them. If you attack them, they may attack back.” At that moment, I either remembered a dream from a few years previously, or I had premonitional déjà vu, perhaps from someone playing with the timeline. My dream repeated minutes later, but not exactly as I remembered. On my driveway, I saw a blorple-colored spot of light half a meter in diameter. The center of the spotlight was dark, creating a light ring. I could see no source for the light. The light sped along the ground in front of me and then disappeared. Clarke, I remember this from a dream. I don’t think Clarke noticed the comment. “They’re behind you.” I walked forward, turned around, but didn’t see anything. To prevent “them” from grabbing me, I walked to a different location on the driveway and turned around. The light (perhaps one of two) sped right past me. Curious, and stupid, and not knowing if the light was caused by an invisible object or person, I reached out and tried to grab (or touch) whatever was creating the light. My hand swiped though the air, touching nothing.
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A deeply random thought First contact, lesson #117: Listen to Clarke when he says, “Do NOT attack them.” Fist contact, lesson #118: Do NOT try to grab invisible blorple lights. They might shoot you.
I’m not really sure if I was shot, but I was later told that I might have been.
A randomly deep thought [The above is] Not quite correct, we have more accurate records. Your brain was fairly sozzled at the time.
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DAY #2 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) WRONG “REALITY” I awoke, knowing that I was at a hospital in Darwin… although I might have also been in a hospital in Darwin River, 40 years later. I borrowed a phone and called my neighbor so she could pick me up from the RAPU unit. It took me several tries to properly dial the phone. After fifteen minutes, I eventually got through and she said she’d pick me up. “Don’t stay in bed. You don’t want to look ill.” I got out of bed, and put my clothes on, discarding the prison-like uniform of the hospital smock. In the center of the RAPU room was a partially-enclosed room where the staff worked on computers. It was built on a raised platform, about 20 centimeters off ground level. “Stand outside the doorway to the staff area. Look like you’re waiting for someone,” suggested someone, who I thought was a “Grey”. I did. “Feel the air. It’s stuffy here. You are in the wrong “reality”. If you walk over there you’ll get better air.” I walked a few meters away to “over there” and the airflow improved. After a few minutes, the air stilled and became stuffy again. “You are in the wrong reality again. Time to move. Try standing in the staff workarea.” I moved inside the staff work-area and found it easier to breathe. 49 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The stuffiness returned a few minutes later,. “Your reality has changed again. Move half way down the staff area to return to your reality.” Again, after moving the air cleared up. At the time, I had no idea what “reality” meant, and why it was difficult to breathe. I have since experienced this stuffiness when an extradimensional UFO is invisibly occupying the same three-dimensional space as me, but is offset extradimensionally. Airflow is impeded by the extradimensional hull and walls of the UFO. Moving “out” of the area restores airflow… not to mention the oxygen’s baryons rotating so they’re easier to breathe.
JUMPING TIMELINES The telepathic prompting got even weirder. I heard and felt the ground shift slightly. The plywood boards that made up the elevated floor of the staff work-area “popped”. “Hear that. You have just been shifted to a new timeline.” In my state of mind, that statement almost made sense. “You’re now in the wrong timeline though. Your neighbor won’t pick you up in this timeline.” That didn’t sound good. I would be stuck at the hospital without my neighbor. “In about twelve seconds, the timeline will change again. Take a step to the left when you hear it.” On cue, the floor popped; the world moved slightly. 50 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I stepped to the left. “Too late. You missed the proper timeline by 0.4 seconds.” I don’t want to be stuck here. “Don’t worry, another timeline will be along in 64 seconds. Step to forward then… wait… wait… now!” Step forward. “No good. You’re too early.” This repeated for half an hour until I finally managed to step into the proper timeline. I have no idea what this episode meant.
LEFT VERSUS RIGHT-SIDED UNIVERSE The theme of the telepathic prompting shifted. “You are now in the correct timeline.” “Do you know if you are in a left-handed or right-handed universe?” I don’t know. “See that door. Watch for your neighbor to walk through it.” I noticed one of the exit doors for the RAPU room. (I hadn’t noticed the exit doors before this.) “If you are in a right-handed universe, then your neighbor will enter through that door. If you are in a left-handed universe, then she will enter from the door behind you, and touch on the back of your right shoulder.” 51 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That sentence was a bit too much to comprehend, so I just watched the door I was told to watch. “The timelines have shifted again. Turn around, walk forward a bit, and watch the other door.” I did. “If you are in a left-handed universe, your neighbor will enter from the door you’re looking at. You’ll know you’re in a right-handed universe if your neighbor enters from behind, and touches you on your left shoulder.” This repeated a few times until my neighbor arrived. I believe that she entered through the door I was looking at, and that I ended up in a left-handed universe… with left-handed physics. I would later find out that many planets in solar systems are “rotated”. Upon flying into a solar system, most of the solar-system’s planets are invisible. They only become visible when your UFO is “rotated” to the same angle as the planet. However, if your UFO is “rotated” to 0 degrees, then you can also see and land at planets rotated oppositely, at 180 degrees. If you land on planet rotated 180 degrees off, then everything is backwards. All the writing is backwards. The laws of physics are backwards. And… you need to eat different foods, especially different sugars.
HEART ATTACK? I had had very little to eat or drink over the last 36 hours, maybe 48. After my neighbor arrived, she decided to spend fifteen minutes chatting with one of the staff… whom she had never met before. 52 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 During that time, I started to get heart palpitations. I knew I had system infections (which tests would to later show – a value of 247+ where the normal range was 3-5), and half-knew I was dehydrated. I might be having a heart attack, I said. “Sit down and we’ll do an EKG,” said a concerned nurse. By the time the wires were taped onto me, the palpitations stopped. Nothing showed up. I felt quite stupid/ashamed to raise an alarm. My neighbor and I left the RAPU ward, walked out into the hall, and… The heart palpitations started up again, MUCH stronger. Again, I think I’m having a heart attack. At this point, my parents (inconveniently) called from Los Angeles; they had booked an emergency flight out to visit me. Someone wheeled in a hospital stretcher. I laid down on it. They wheeled me into the emergency room. And then things got even weirder… “That man over there. We don’t trust him,” a telepathic voice said. “Move a bit to distract them. We’re going to try and get someone from OUR side into the room.” Two days before, running around half naked didn’t sound like a bad idea. Why not cause a distraction? I slid down the inclined hospital stretcher and delayed things a minute. Different people arrived in the room. 53 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Some people on OUR side have arrived. You’ll be okay.” Someone pointed an X-ray machine at my chest. “Keep your eyes closed. We’re going to push you to a different reality.”, or was it “timeline”, or was it “version of reality”? I opened my eyes a few minutes later and the room color looked different. Different people seemed to be in the room. And I then I closed my eyes and had a very interesting telepathic conversation… A few notes:
I saw the chest X-ray a few days later, though still mentally impaired. I noticed a small metal object near my heart. It most likely was a clasp from my smock, not an “alien”-implanted remote-controlled defibrillator. Apparently, “alien”-implanted defibrillators can come with mini-neutron bombs that kill the heart. The people (from other planets) were concerned about this also. When I had an MRI a few weeks later, the magnetic field of the MRI tugged at something near my heart. Weeks later, I was telepathically informed that the defibrillator had been removed.
At the time, I had no idea what “OUR side” meant. I can now: Imagine two opposing high-tech sides, each with telepathy bots, both trying to control/influence the medical staff with those bots.
NEVER DISCUSS PHILOSOPHY WITH AN “ALIEN” WHILE RELIGIOUS WACKOS ARE TELEPATHICALLY EAVESDROPPING 54 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After closing my eyes, I slid into a semi-conscious state. I began a philosophical telepathic discussion with another “alien”. I won’t go into detail about the conversation. I am inevitably mixing multiple philosophical conversations I had over the upcoming days. The conversation it started out with me stating that I don’t wish to be here… I wish to get off the planet. “There is only Earth,” interrupted a telepathic religious wacko. No there isn’t. There are other planets, and stars with planets around them. “No there isn’t. There is only Earth. Nothing beyond Earth is real.” Or was it, “Everything beyond Earth and the sun is a painting on the celestial heavens”? Not true. We have landed men on the moon and sent probes to other planets. Planets definitely exist. The “alien” listened, amused. “Nothing exists outside the solar system.” It must. I know I’ve met aliens. The religious wacko’s tact changed: “Even if there were aliens, they aren’t allowed here.” That doesn’t make sense. “They can’t land. The only way they can be on Earth is if they transform into Humans.” … which made absolutely no sense to me at the time. It now makes perfect sense. According to the Hominids in control of Earth, Earth was to exclusively Hominids, “whites-only”. Non-Hominid “aliens” would never be allowed to land. The Homo Sapiens living on Earth were to be kept ignorant. 55 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “You will never get off Earth. And… if any aliens arrive from another planet, they will have to look like Humans.” That makes no sense. I don’t want to be here. I want to live someplace with more than just Humans. I want to get off the planet. The “alien” interrupted, “We can create a world for you to live in.” “We can put you in a coma and you can live in the dream world for the rest of your life,” continued the alien. At the time, this made no sense either. “Coma” was correct, followed by an awareness dream that would turn permanent after my body was euthanized a few weeks later, and my awareness was permanently attached to someone off-planet. No, I don’t wish to be in a coma. I blanked out. Select (and misunderstood) portions of this and other philosophical conversations have been used by religious wackos to telepathically call me satanic, evil, etc.
WHAT YEAR IS IT? “Wake up, Mike,” said a nurse. She was pushing her fingers down on my sternum to forcefully wake me. I opened my eyes. I was in another room. I don’t know how much time had passed. “What year is it?” 56 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Um… 2008? No, 2009. “Can you tell me what month it is?” Someone telepathically suggested that I pretend I have the swine flu… which sounded like a reasonable idea, because by now, I suspected that my brain damage was from the swine flu. It’s May. (Wrong!) “What day in May?” I don’t know. The 15th. A telepathic voice suggested, “Cough on them”. Why not? I felt flu-ish. I coughed. “Have you travelled anywhere lately?” Yes, Mexico. I blanked out.
HULU MEDICINE I instantly awoke on a hospital stretcher. In my right arm was a catheter for an IV. Nothing was attached. Despite the protests of the staff, I ripped out the catheter. Don’t give me any of your Hulu (pronounced “Hoo-loo”) medicine!, I stated emphatically. I had no idea what I was saying. 57 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I held out my left arm and pointed it at one of the staff; I’m not sure why. If I had an extradimensional strap-on weapon attached to my harm, the staff member would NOT be happy. (I had no knowledge about such weapons at the time.) “Just relax. We’re going to take you in there.” No, I don’t want to go in there, I declared. I didn’t know why, except that I was afraid someone would kill me if my hospital stretcher was wheeled into the neighboring “pink” room. My experience with being “showered” at CalTech (the university I attended) paid off. If a group of people is about to carry you off (into an awaiting cold showers), the only way to survive is to grab onto something heavy (or fixed to the ground) and don’t let go. I did so. The staff couldn’t move the hospital stretcher. Some security guards appeared. “He’s being a problem.” Can we go anywhere else but there? “Certainly. If you don’t like that we’ll take you to a different room for the night.” I was wheeled to a mostly-empty ward, where I was assigned a bed. My neighbor got me a tasty sandwich from a take-away restaurant below. I ate it. She went home. I stayed in the hospital for another night.
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November 12, 2011 The night was spent pressing more “blorple” buttons to keep me out of a coma. Instead of mocking “greys”, this test had snide comments about the Hulu and Hulu medicine. I noticed that scratches on my arm were raised and purple… I don’t know the signs of septicemia, but I don’t think “purple” is a good color.
DAY #3 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) WAITING TO GET OUT I awoke in the morning, determined not to have a heart attack, and very determined NOT to stay in the hospital another night. My broken foot was STILL not plastered. I HADN’T yet received any antibiotics. I called my neighbor to pick me up… again. I think she has the route to the hospital memorized. A member of the staff led me to an enclosed courtyard, where I waited for my neighbor. He offered to get me a bite to eat. I gave him some money and requested an orange juice. Returning fifteen minutes later with some change, I was handed the juice bottle. I didn’t recognize the coin, thinking it was from another country (on another planet, or from an alternate reality). I didn’t recognize the juice label, although I could read it. It was the best orange juice I ever drank. I wondered why I had never tasted such sugars before. A jet flew overhead. I didn’t recognize it as a Boeing or Airbus jet. The color of the sky, sun, and walls seemed to change slightly every few minutes. 59 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That was the first say that I saw “violet”. Previously, I had only seen “purple” at the end of the rainbow, a combination of red and blue. My neighbor arrived. I had survived my first trip to the hospital.
AT HOME That night, my broken foot not plastered, I got around the house on a swivel chair. I thought I was going to die. I tried writing a will (being of UN-sound mind and UNsound body); I couldn’t remember what year it was.
THREE NIGHTS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MID-JULY 2009) “THEY’RE BACK” On yet another dark, and not-the-least stormy night: “They’re back,” said Clarke telepathically. “Walk to your living wing and start dancing again.” Once there... “Step left.” “And two steps back.” Etcetera. 60 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
“TELEPORTATION” “This isn’t working,” Clarke said after half an hour of evasive dancing. “I will try to teleport you.” “Just stand there while I get a lock on you.” “Stand absolutely still.” Easier said than done. From the comments, “greys” found it easier to stand still than Homo Sapiens. My body began to feel weird. The sound of the room changed slightly. I could almost hear the internal buzz of a UFO. “Try not to move.” I tried. “You’re moving too much. Just stand still for 30 seconds.” Despite trying to stand still, I found myself swaying a bit. “You’re running low on oxygen.” I noticed the air getting a bit stuffy. “Move your thumb to get more air.” (“Stick out your tongue” would have been more appropriate, but “greys” don’t have tongues.) I moved my thumb. It didn’t seem to help with the stuffiness. “Wait, you’re not fitting. Let me push you.” 61 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I felt someone (invisible) gently push me from behind. “Can you slowly move your arms down by your side.” No, I’m holding a jacket. “Try squeezing your arms together tighter.” I did. “Your oxygen is getting low. Stick out your thumb again [to tear a small hole in the baryon bubble]”. The air was still old, despite the fact that I could feel a breeze blowing against me. Clarke noticed: “You can feel the breeze, but it isn’t providing you much oxygen.” “I don’t have much air left for you.” I waited to be teleported. “If you don’t get you teleported soon YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.” “You don’t fit. Drop your jacket. It’s the jacket or your life.” I DROPPED my jacket, and put my hands by my side. Clarke pushed me from behind. “There. I’ll try teleporting you again.” The volume of the buzz increased. “Just stand still.” I’m feeling nauseas. Blank.
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“HE’S NOT DEAD. I THOUGHT WE KILLED HIM.” “He’s not dead. I thought we killed him,” said someone else in telepathic voice. I found myself lying on my living-room floor. I think I was on my side. Clarke spoke, “Mike, I can’t teleport you here. There’s too much metal.” “You have to go outside onto some flat ground. I’ll teleport you from there.” “Hurry. I can’t stop the teleportation process now. You don’t have much oxygen left.” “If you run out of oxygen, YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.” I hurried outside and to my parking-lot area. “Wait there, and I’ll continue the teleportation.” I waited. “I have used up all the oxygen on my ship, by the way.” Not good. “I can’t teleport you here. There are too many stones by the surface.” “Can you climb up on a tree to get away from the stones?” I wandered off into the bush, and climbed up a steeply angled tree until I was a meter off the ground. “YOU HAVE 20 SECONDS LEFT TO LIVE,” warned Clarke. “Are you ready?” Yes. 63 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I waited to be teleported. “I managed to get more oxygen.” I waited. “No good. There are still too many rocks around. Do you have any place with lots of deep soil?” Yes, down by the lake. “Head down there.” In the dark, I jumped off the log... and onto the side of a rock. I sprained (or broke) my right ankle. “Hurry up.” “YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS LEFT TO LIVE.” My brain wasn’t working; By this point, I should have realized that I was “going to die in 20 seconds” of lack of oxygen about ten minutes ago. Despite the sprain, I briskly walked down to the lake’s spillway. Teleportation didn’t work there, “Still too many rocks. Is there anywhere else with more soil?” Yes. I temporarily pilfered someone’s plastic-resin chair, and walked (starting to hobble) half a kilometre to a large dirt pile. I climbed on top the pile, and sat on the chair, exhausted.
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“YOU HAVE NO HEAD” I took off my right shoe and examined my foot by the light the nearby resort’s street lamp. My foot was swollen. Assuming that I was bleeding internally, I put pressure on my ankle so I wouldn’t lose too much blood internally. Clarke, or perhaps a different voice, said, “You don’t have enough energy. You are losing it through your foot. You need to get energy from somewhere.” I didn’t know where, but might as well try. I tried to imagine sucking energy from the ground. At that point, the voice led me down a path that showed I was an idiot. He (or she) got very angry at me... Basically, pissed off. I would later learn this anger was caused by a combination of my stupidity, people (from other planets) thinking that I was in league with the off-planet Hominids, and other events taking place all around Australia that night. Still sitting on the resin chair, on top of a four meter-tall dirt pile, I put my shoe back on. I looked down at the ground and saw my sitting shadow. It was cast by the resort’s street lamps... I think. “You have no head,” rebuked the telepathic voice. My head’s shadow disappeared, though the shadow of my headless body remained. “Look at your precious house.” I looked to the horizon. I couldn’t see my house at night, but I could see the silhouette of the hill it was built on top.
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November 12, 2011 Above my house was a large top-like cone-UFO glowing orange, at least 50 meters in diameter. “We are going to destroy your house.” The UFO rose a bit, with a black column below it. An image appeared in my head: My house, completely steel, was being torn apart and pulled up, like a stream of iron filings attracted to a magnet. While I didn’t want my house to be destroyed, all I could think of was: COOL. Not many people think that their house being vengefully dismantled by a UFO is “cool”. The voice lost its derision, or was now spoken by someone else: “We are going to get you off the planet now.” “Can you contact someone and tell them you will be away?” Yes. I pulled out my mobile phone and typed in a text message to my neighbour. I wrote that I would be gone for a week, and asking her to watch my bird. I didn’t know it at the time, but other people (from other planets) were trying to prevent me from sending the text message. They used technology to “befuddle” my mind. The act of thinking was as difficult as trudging through waist-high mud. I managed to get the message sent though... to my detriment, when my neighbours showed up the next morning thinking I was slightly crazy... and to my benefit, when people (from other planets) realized how stubborn I was. “Go back up your hill and see if your house is still there.” “And don’t forget the return the chair you borrowed.”
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November 12, 2011 I returned the chair and limped up the hill. My house was still there, but my brain wasn’t, so I didn’t particularly notice that my house was supposed to have not been there thirty minutes before.
ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I hobbled up my stairs and followed my elevated walkway to my bedroom wing. Before opening the door to go in, someone telepathically said, “Turn around.” I did so. A very-bright 2-mm UV-light appeared in front of me, about 6’ up. It was so bright that I had retinal burn for a week. (UV lights are used by people in encounter suits to see people in ordinary three-dimensional space. Being raised 6’ high meant the light was held by one of the saurians I had been telepathically chatting with for a few weeks.) “Look up.” I did so and saw a circular UFO, the same one that I photographed (with permission) a few months later. I smiled. This light was gone. I walked inside and fell asleep, still not off the planet.
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DAY #4, NOT AT THE H OSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) Once home from the hospital, I slept well. My neighbour picked me up before lunch and took me to the Batchelor medical clinic, where the doctor gave me crutches and antibiotics. We then drove into Darwin to pick up my parents from the airport. Hearing that I was hospitalized, they had hurriedly purchased some plane tickets from the US to Australia. Throughout the day, my brain was working well, though I was very tired. Once back at my neighbour’s house, (I think) we ate dinner. I must have gone to sleep early. I don’t remember.
DAY #5 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) MORE HADES, ELYSIUM FIELDS, PURGATORY, W EIRDNESS My parents, neighbour, and I returned to the Darwin Hospital so I could get my cast put on. (The rural doctor couldn’t didn’t have the facilities for casts.) Weirdness hit as soon as I entered Darwin, and strengthened while I sat in the hospital waiting room. I felt the full force of the “imperius curse”. My brain numbed. I couldn’t think logically/sequentially. I couldn’t think intuitively. I once-again thought I was dead... because I was told so. 68 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The telepathic “spam” was a competing mix of aliens telling me one thing, and telepathic religious elite telling me I was in hell, or purgatory, or wherever... for the next 200 years. My brain was so far gone that whatever a voice suggested that I should do, I did... Harry Potter references entered the telepathic conversations, and I wandered aimlessly about looking for a “portkey” to take me off the planet. Sometimes the portkeys were day-glow blue. Other times they were identified by black linings. Etcetera. My parents had to chase after me and continually redirect me, kind of like the scene in “Sleeper” where Woody Allen wanders around aimlessly after being defrosted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeper_(film) ) They became concerned about my mental well-being, of course. Hours of telepathic spam later... A hospital worker finally put a temporary plaster cast on. It reduced the movement in my ankle, but didn’t support and immobilize my foot well.
INTERVIEWED BY POLICE OFFICER DRESSED AS A DOCTOR We were about to leave the hospital... when my parents, neighbour, and I were directed into a small meeting room with very comfortable chairs. In the room was a “doctor” that asked my parents questions. He may also have asked me some questions. I don’t remember what the conversation was about. I recognized the “doctor” as a police officer that was acquainted with a lawyer-friend of mine. I had briefly met him a year before, while lunching at a restaurant with my friend. The under-cover(?) police officer didn’t recognize me. When I looked at him, I saw black “clown” diamonds painted around his eyes. I’m not sure if they were really there, or they were telepathically “painted on”. 69 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Meanwhile, I heard telepathic voices of different “aliens”, advising me that he was a police officer, along with other information that still makes little sense to me a year later. By the time we left the room to finally returned home, I didn’t know where, when, or why I was. People with brain-damage should NOT be kept awake for the entire day.
AWARENESS SPLIT BETWEEN TIMELINES? We didn’t drive home until dark. Sitting in the passenger seat, I couldn’t recognize any part of Darwin that we drove through. I felt like I existed in two realities at once... or perhaps my awareness was split between two timelines at once. In one reality, I was in a Honda CRV, being driven through Darwin and towards home, an hour’s drive away. At the same time, my mind’s eye perceived another reality where it was 2080, and spacecraft were rendezvousing for some unremembered reason. On the Stuart Highway, half an hour outside of Darwin, I saw a series blorple flashes illuminate the sky a few kilometres ahead. A flash occurred every few minutes, always far in front of the car. No one in the car mentioned seeing them. A telepathic voice misleadingly commented, “We are re-creating your reality for you. Your world was destroyed while you were in hospital. Those flashes are new sections of the world being recreated.” At the same time, my mind thought I was returning home 70 years later. 70 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 There was very little oxygen, about 5%. Darwin had gone from tropical savannah to a semi-arid desert with only scrub. The city and surrounding rural area were abandoned, except for a few die-hard people who occasionally needed oxygen canisters to supplement the oxygen-weak atmosphere. I didn’t know this at the time, but in the alternate timeline, the Earth had been hit by neutron bombs. Its atmosphere was hydrogenized, and the hydrogen combined with oxygen. The oxygen level in the atmosphere had plummeted from 20% to 5%.
“TEAR OFF THAT CAST” Staying at my neighbour’s house for the night, my parents and neighbours ate dinner. I hobbled into a bedroom to sleep... for a few minutes. “Tear off that cast,” said a saurian woman. My impression was that two saurian women wearing encounter suits were in the room, seeing how I was doing. “It isn’t doing you any good.” Having slept for awhile, my brain could judge whether telepathic commands/suggestions were worth listening to. The cast wasn’t tight enough to set my broken foot. It was pointless. I found some dull children’s scissors and cut off the light plaster cast. Just after I finished removing the cast, my parents entered, shocked that I had cut it off. If they didn’t think I was crazy from my morning’s “Sleeper” walk, they did now. 71 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The doctor, who lived nearby, arrived a few minutes later. Though he knew it wouldn’t do any good, he placed the bisected cast back on my foot and taped it together. Illogically, my parents felt happier about this solution. He also gave me a blue antipsychotic pill. Feeling that I had no choice but to accept the drug, I let it sublimate in my mouth.
THE LAST TIME I SAW A BLACK SKY I awoke a few hours later and silently walked outside to look at the stars. That was the last time I saw a black sky. Since then, even moonless nights are a dark blue-jean colour to my eyes. Despite the moonless night, only a handful of stars were out. Normally, I’d see the Milky Way. “We ran out of processing power rebuilding your world, and don’t have any left for the stars,” commented a telepathic voice.
DAY #6 OF THE HOSPITAL INSANE ASYLUM (EARLY AUGUST 2009) “ACCIO PORTKEY” I awoke at my neighbour’s house, still not off the planet. While my parents were eating a late breakfast, the alien-originated telepathic voices started talking: 72 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “There is a portkey stone around here,” said an alien voice. “To find it, say “Atshio portkey”.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_spells_in_Harry_Potter) I wasn’t crazy enough to speak the incantation aloud, so I telepathically thought, “Atshio portkey”. Unlike Harry Potter’s broom, the portkey didn’t magically fly into my outstretched hand. “Maybe you have to speak it.” I walked about ten meters away, so my parents wouldn’t hear, and said, “Atshio portkey” very quietly. Nothing appeared. “No good. You may need to say it louder.” “Atshio portkey,” I said in a louder voice... perhaps loud enough for my parents to hear. “No, it isn’t working.” “You have to REALLY want the portkey to fly into your hand.” I concentrated... as hard as I could with a walnut-sized brain. “Atshio portkey.” My parents must have heard by then. “No, it’s not working.” “Just a minute.” I waited. “It won’t work because you’re saying it wrong.” 73 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “It’s “ATSIO portkey”.” That made perfect sense... not really. I recalled that the actors in Harry Potter said “Atshio”, but... Oh well. Six days previously, I had walked half-naked the death-adder infested Australian bush, at night, without shoes. “ATSIO portkey,” I said, strongly willing the portkey to appear. It worked in the movie... Nothing happened. My parents definitely heard. Oops.
HOW YOU KNOW YOU’RE CRAZY You know you’re crazy when: 1.
You are incanting magic spells (made up from the Harry Potter series) and speaking them aloud in front of your parents... who have flown all the way from the US because they have been told you are behaving oddly.
2.
You actually expect a portkey stone to come flying out of the Australian bush, in your general direction.
3.
You have a direct connection to J K Rowling’s pronunciation lexicon, via aliens, who tell you that you’re pronouncing the word “accio” incorrectly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J_K_Rowling)
4.
And the really crazy part... IF the spell had worked properly, I would have had a one-ton rock flying at 60 kmph in my general direction.
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If I were a sufficiently high-tech alien, “Accio portkey” might have worked.
Instead of extradimensional strap-on weapons, some people (from other planets) have extradimensional strap-on “Accio” telekinesis bracelets.
Having said that, Newtonian physics still applies. If I were to use my hypothetical telekinesis bracelets to pull a 1.0 ton stone towards me at 60 kmph, weighing 75 kg myself... You do the math: The stone would hover towards me at approximately 4.19 kmph, and I would be hurled towards the stone at 55.81 kmph. (Yoda could never have used his telekinesis bracelets to lift the X-wing fighter out of the Dagobah swamp either. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dagobah)
Some high-tech people have Tardis-like UFOs (without the time travel). Apparently, my “Tardis” was a 1 ton rock, which is slightly cheaper to paint and clean than a 50 year-old blue UK police-box. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis)
Most Tardis-like UFOs don’t actually look like anything, especially not like police boxes. They’re invisible. Their owners merely have to think the right keywords (perhaps “Accio portkey”), and within minutes, they will be extradimensionally transferred into their UFO’s mud-room.
Sadly, I wasn’t a high-tech alien. I had no telepathic bracelets. I had not Tardis.
MORE TELEPATHIC SPAM After my parents finished breakfast, they drove me from my neighbour’s house to my house, half a kilometre away. 75 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My mother kept the car keys. While my parents cleaned up their temporary bedroom, I wandered around my house for awhile, relieved to be home, and happy that my nightmare was over. Within an hour, the telepathic spam started up in full force. All I wanted to do was get away. I wanted to jump in the car and take a ride to someplace distant. Why? I don’t know. “Getting away” sounded like a compelling idea to me... and it worked... Remember, I didn’t have my car keys. “Mom,” I said, “Lets go for a ride. I want to get out of here.” “No, no. We just arrived. Stay here,” she said. “No, I want to take a ride.” “Nope. We aren’t going anywhere.” She had my car keys. I was a child begging for a ride. ... but I had spare car keys! ...which I got a hold of a few minutes later. I drove off without my parents. After twenty minutes drive, I found an empty field and sat down in its centre. The telepathic spam that plagued me at home was (for the most part) gone. I relaxed. Chloe, another “grey” I had been telepathically talking to, found me with her UFO, the blue circular one in the night-time photograph from my first document. I could
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November 12, 2011 barely see the transparent UFO as a deep red. (Some UFOs can extradimensionally displace themselves towards infrared instead of ultraviolet.) “I’ll try to pick you up.” I sat in the field, waiting, hoping. Minutes passed. “I can’t do it. Your soul is too heavy.” (I’m still not sure what “Your soul is too heavy” meant.) Her UFO went invisible. Chloe eventually left. I sat and enjoyed the telepathic silence for awhile. Then I drove back home.
A randomly deep thought At 100 insanity points, you are admitted to the Arkham institution for the insane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cthulhu_Mythos, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arkham) At 0 insanity points, you let a 17-year-old teenager decide your life’s career, have children at 25, retire at 59 ½ when your children leave home, move to Florida, and spend the rest of your life playing golf, smoking, and drinking yourself to death. All things in moderation; An insanity-point score of 30 – 70 is considered healthy. 77 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
100 INSANITY POINTS I returned home to find a police car parked in my driveway. My parents had called the police to begin a search for me. In ten minutes, my bag was packed, and I was driven back to the hospital, but instead of the emergency waiting room, I was taken to an adjoining “mental institution”. I was involuntarily, voluntarily admitted.
THE INSANE ASYLUM (EARLY AUGUST 2009) TELEPATHIC CONVERSATIONS I won’t detail my two-week experience(s) at the mental institution. Bullet points are quicker:
When I first walked through the doors, I thought that the mental institution would be the worst experience in my life. It wasn’t. It was sad though. The staff put a lot of effort into helping the clients. Most of the clients were oblivious to their efforts. I returned a few months later with a care package, including chocolatecovered coffee beans for the night shift.
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November 12, 2011 As friendly as the staff were, I never want to go back to the mental institution, though.
The religious telepathic spam was horrendous.
I have never-ever been afraid to go to sleep. I was terrified of sleeping at night in the insane asylum because the telepathic religious wackos would verbally walk me through 4000 levels of hell. The feeling at night (the cruciatus curse?) was 10 – 100 times as bad as spending a night in a windowless hospital ward with curtained alcoves. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucio#Crucio_.28Cruciatus_Curse.29)
To make matters worse, I had quite a few philosophical discussions with people (from other planets), which were misunderstood and later misquoted by the religious-wacko voices. Simply put, telepathic conservative Christians think that saurians are demons, and anyone talking to saurians (or reptiloids) is in league with the devil.
The first night I arrived, a non-religious telepathic voice philosophically asked me, “Do you want to live in a world with angels and demons, or one with aliens?” I decided to live in a world with aliens.
One of the voices told me not to listen to the telepathic voices in my head... which is a bit of a brain teaser. Should I therefore NOT listen to the voice that was telling me not to listen to the voices?
MEDICAL TREATMENT My medical treatment consisted of:
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November 12, 2011 The staff provided some basic activities to try to keep their clients busy... and from smoking the entire day. I didn’t smoke, so I appreciated the diversion.
My antibiotics were clandestinely confiscated when I arrived. I was too “out of it” to realize that they were missing for a few days. I had only managed to take three pills out of a ten-pill prescription.
One member of the staff kept trying to push antipsychotic medication, while most others were happy that I refused medication.
I FINALLY got a (very good) permanent cast put on four days after being admitted.
A week-and-a-half after being admitted, I received an MRI to look for brain tumours.
o
No tumours were found.
o
MRIs are highly NOT recommended.
o
While the MRI was scanning my head, I felt a piece of metal near my heart being magnetically tugged at. This may have been an alien pacemaker.
Because no-one could determine why I had gone crazy, the doctors considered a Lumbar puncture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lumbar_puncture) Not wishing to undergo invasive surgery, or stay in the hospital any longer, I declined.
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STRANGE EVENTS The strange events that happened at the mental institution were:
One afternoon, I was telepathically informed that a saurian triangle ship was going to land and pick me up. I was asked to wave some palm fronds so I could be identified. I actually saw a large, transparent, violet triangle-ship hovering above the parking lot. The saurians weren’t allowed to land and rescue me from Earth, however. One staff-member found me soon afterwards, and sadly presented me with a blue antipsychotic pill, which I involuntarily voluntarily let sublimate in my mouth.
I was visited (at least once) by someone in a wavy suit. The person in this wavy suit was 5’ 6” – 6’ tall.
At night, the air in the room would get “stuffy”, as is typical when an extradimensional UFO is occupying the same three-dimensional space as you.
AM I INSANE? When I was telepathically chatting with saurians (and others) weeks before, I was 98% certain that I was sane. After three days of hospitalizations and a few days in the nearby mental institution, I questioned my sanity. Two events convinced me that I was (at least partially) sane:
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November 12, 2011 The Northern Territory News (http://www.ntnews.com.au) was provided to read. A few days after my institutionalization the NT News included a photograph of a puff of smoke, which looked like it was floating in the hospital’s suburb. I wondered if (and hoped that) the puff of smoke was UFO related.
One alien woman telepathically told me about mythical “air traders” on another planet. A group of six traders lived in a gondola on top of (or underneath?) a helium balloon. They travelled high-up in a very dense atmosphere, over a low-gravity planet that was mostly rainforest and ocean. The land dwellers below caught large 1-meter-long geckos, cut off their fatty tails for meat, and freed the geckos so they could regrow their tails. Some of the older land-dwellers, past child-bearing age, would take to the air and trade, living permanently in the air at specific elevations so they wouldn’t have to spend weeks repressurizing and depressurizing (aka: “the bends”, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decompression_sickness). The traders floating at the very top trapped (or traded with) large floating ballooncreatures to get the valuable helium, which was then traded downwards. It was high-up that the race saw their first UFOs. The ancient myth was written in a script based on macropod handprints. When I heard the myth, I knew my brain couldn’t be inventing the voices; I wasn’t creative enough to invent such a story.
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PROVING TO MYSELF TH AT I HADN’T GONE INSANE (AUGUST 2009) After three weeks of hospitalization and mental institutions, my brain healthier, I questioned my sanity. Had I really been telepathically talking with “aliens”? Or was my brain malfunctioning and talking to itself? I temporarily assumed that my previous month’s experiences were the result of brain damage, and sought out new evidence that I had “jumped into the deep end” of disclosure. In the weeks following my escape/release from the mental institution, the observable facts were:
Telepathy – Telepathic spam was greatly reduced at home, compared to the hospital and mental institution.
Violet – I was seeing violet as a unique color. I knew I had never seen violet before.
Hearing UFOs – I frequently heard the low hum of UFOs.
Seeing triangular clouds – During the day, I would often look up and see triangular clouds.
Hearing loud white noise – When I would take walks (with crutches for my broken foot), I would hear loud white-noise in my right ear, and a negative sound-field (or nothing) in my left ear. If I turned around 180 degrees, the sound would be in my left ear.
Emergency beeps in my ear –While walking one day, I heard emergency beeps in my ear, kind of like a UK ambulance siren.
Small invisible triangular spy-bots – Inside, and outside, I would hear quiet computer-like fan noises, or buzzing, caused by small, triangular spy-bots. I 83 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 could “chase them around” and the noise source would move away from me.
UFO lights at night – I would occasionally sneak out at night and look up at the stars… and the lights attached to UFOs parked above.
Cloud shapes on moonlit nights – On a few occasions, UFO pilots used their ships’ engines to create cloud shapes that were 100% NOT natural.
PARENTS WON’T LEAVE (AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2009) After my “Sleeper” day at the hospital, trying to cast “Accio portkey”, driving off with my car, and then being committed to a mental institution, I couldn’t tell my parents, “The aliens made me do it.” They would have stuck me right back in the insane asylum. As far as my parents knew, something happened to my brain and I went crazy. They wouldn’t leave. “You don’t need to be here,” I said. “All I do is sleep [to recover from my brain damage], and get driven to the supermarket once a week.” “You are bored here.” “The build-up is coming with 39c temperatures and you’ll do nothing all day but sit under a fan.” “You need to return home and do all the usual chores, like paying bills that would be piling up.” “You are making your relatives go out of their way to maintain your house and deal with your mail, while you just sit around here watching me sleep.” No matter how much I tried to rationalize with them, they wouldn’t leave. 84 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I eventually convinced them to purchase returning plane-tickets for late September, when they finally left. I was “abducted” just over a week after they left.
“ABDUCTION” (OCTOBER 2009) “TELEPORTED” (THE HIGHLY NOT-RECOMMENDED WAY OF B EING ABDUCTED) Just over one week after my parents left, I put some flour, water, and yeast into my bread maker to mix into pizza dough. I had the impression that something would happen that night… “Walk out onto your deck,” requested a telepathic voice. I did so. “Stand still.” “Slowly turn around and face your balustrade.” “Now, take a step forward.” I did so. “Take two more steps.” I was now standing just in front of my deck’s balustrade, overlooking the valley below my house. A triangle-ship was hovering a few hundred meters above in the dark, observing. It was somehow implied to me that the triangle ship was an Aurora spy-plane, but it 85 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 may have been from off planet. I would later learn that if it was an Aurora, it was NOT flown by Americans, but by off-planet Hominids. I heard the gentle clink or two of water glasses inside the kitchen. I remained still and didn’t investigate. “Hold out your left hand,” said Chloe telepathically. I did so. “A bit lower.” I lowered my hand. “Open it up.” Thirty seconds later I felt someone lightly grasp my hand. I turned my head slowly to look, and saw semi-transparent grey fingers holding my hand. “Hold out your right hand.” I did so. I knew, or was informed, that Chloe was standing to my left, invisible but for her hand. Someone was to my right, invisible. And someone tall stood behind me, also invisible. “Seven other people are also here to make sure you’re safe. Four are higher, and three are lower,” said another voice. I didn’t know what that meant at the time. “Stand there.” Chloe didn’t seem to hear the other telepathic voices. I stood still for minutes. “Stand as still as you can.” 86 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My bread-maker beeped, indicating that my pizza dough was mixed and raised. “Keep standing still.” I began to feel nauseous, and then light-headed. I’m going to faint, I said telepathically. I began to lean forward to grasp the balustrade for support. Blank.
WAKING UP, BACK ON MY DECK I woke up, lying on my deck, looking up at my roof. It was telepathically quiet. I could see “blue tinglies” above; I would later learn that they are an indicator of a time-warping field. I felt like crap. After a few moments, I gradually sat up, then crawled over to the kitchen doorway, and sat down against the door. I heard Chloe’s telepathic voice say something, a bit confused. I didn’t hear from her again that night. I found it difficult to breathe, like my mouth was covered with a semi-permeable cling-wrap. I didn’t know what to do, so I opened my mouth wider to breathe. That helped slightly. 87 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It felt like something lightly stretched across my mouth. I cleared it out of my mouth with my hand. I could neither feel it with my hand, see it, nor taste it. My breathing improved as soon as I pulled in invisible cling-wrap away. A minute later, breathing once again became difficult. I cleared my mouth of the invisible cling-wrap again. I later learned that this was a baryonic bubble used to keep people (somewhat) safe during “teleportation”… the same “stuff” that Clarke used a month previously. After sitting for twenty minutes, my strength and wherewithal returned enough that I staggered up, opened the kitchen door, and went in. The telepathic image of Gollum (from the Lord-of-the-Rings movies) flashed through my mind. Abigail, not a “grey”, would show me that image when she was around or involved. I believe she created the time-bending field. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj411At8VRI)
http://www.moviemobsters.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/gollum.jpg
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November 12, 2011 My pizza dough smelled rank and was crusty; it had been sitting in the bread maker for a long time. I looked at the clock, subtracted twenty minutes, and noticed that one hour and thirty minutes had passed. It was telepathically quiet. Thirsty for juice, I downed at least a liter of fruit juice. It was still telepathically quiet. Too ill to be hungry, I put the crusty pizza dough in the freezer and went to sleep in my bed.
MY BUTT HURTS I awoke the next morning. My butt hurt, approximately where my tailbone was. One of the reasons why I DIDN’T get a Lumbar puncture (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lumbar_puncture) at the hospital was because some of the “aliens” I was telepathically talking to at the insane asylum suggested they could perform one more safely, and with a quicker recovery time. My butt only hurt for a week, much less time than it would have taken for me to recover from Lumbar-puncture surgery in the Darwin hospital. And there wasn’t any scar… that I could feel. 89 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A few weeks later, I noticed that my entire tailbone seemed to have gone missing. Someone must have kept it as a keepsake.
AFTERWARDS I later learned that I couldn’t be taken off planet because any attempt to do so would have resulted in the destruction of the ship where the surgery happened, and the deaths of everyone inside. I have yet to receive a complimentary DVD of my abduction from whoever was flying the triangle ship.
ANGBA (FEBRUARY 2010) LANDING “We’re going to attempt another landing tonight.” “Put your shoes on in case we melt the floor; you don’t want to lose the bottom of your feet.” “Remember your torch.” I assembled my gear, exited my bedroom wing, and walked into my star-lit living wing, which also included my kitchen and dining areas. At the far end of the wing, the 90 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 floor was elevated four meters above the ground... perfect for an encounter suit landing... except for the copious amounts of steel in my house. “Turn your torch on.” I pointed my LED torch at my feet and turned it on. “Walk forward slowly.” I took a few steps forward and stopped at the edge of my kitchen section, looking at my ironwood table at the far/elevated end of the living wing. “Just wait there.” Pause. “I’m dematerializing,” said Angba telepathically. I waited and watched. I telepathically “saw” a glimpse from within her encounter suit. I was a grey figure slightly visible against a grey background. “Don’t do that,” she said. “My suit doesn’t like it.” I blanked my mind. A few minutes later, a shadow gradually appeared at the far end of my table. All of the chairs had been cleared away from the table. “Step forward, holding the torch down. Don’t point it at me.” I slowly stepped forward. Angba was nervous; entering someone’s home with an encounter suit while they were awake was dangerous. “Slowly walk up to the table so I can see you better.” 91 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Light pointing down, I approached the table, Angba on the opposite side. “Point the light up at yourself.” I rotated the light up, illuminating my body. “Good. I know where you are.” I re-pointed the light at my feet. “I am melting the floor here. I need to move.” “Can you slowly walk counter-clockwise around the table?” Angba’s semi-shadow faded as I walked around the table to where she had stood. Once on the other side, I looked across the table to where I had been. Her semi-shadow stood there. “I am wearing a silver suit.” “It’s actually quite roomy in here.” “I can pull my arm out of the suit’s arm.” Angba did so, and her shadow’s form changed. While she was demonstrating, Angba continued dematerialization. She put her arm back into her suit’s enclosed sleave. “It’ll take me twenty minutes to dematerialize.” I waited, watching.
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TROUBLE After a few minutes, Angba leaned forward and put her hands on the table to hold her weight. “This isn’t working. I’m [my hands are] melting the table.” Angba sidestepped to the right to reach a bit of unmelted floor and table. Several minutes later: “I’m tired. I can’t stand anymore.” “Dematerializing is very tiring.” “Do you have a metal chair I can sit on?” No. I have a step ladder. “That won’t work. I need a flat piece of steel for my back.” “Any other chairs?” I have a canvas chair. There was a pause. “I think I can adjust my suit so she won’t fall through the chair.” “Position the chair to my left.” Angba’s shadow faded away. I slowly walked to where the chair had been stored, and carried it to a spot near a metal support beam. Angba could grab onto the dense steel if she needed. I oriented the chair towards the outside of the room, and stepped several paces away from the chair. 93 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Angba’s shadow reappeared in front of the chair. In the dark starlight, I couldn’t tell if she turned around. Her hands carefully touched the chair’s ironwood arms, and she sat down. Her butt slid through the fabric. “I need to adjust my suit so it won’t pass through the chair.” She stood up slightly, pulling the fabric with her as it stuck “inside” her shadow field. The canvas eventually lost its grip and fell down. Angba sat down again, this time without sliding through the canvas seat. Angba then gradually leaned back. Her back slid through the canvas back of the chair, swivelling the wood support columns slightly. “Your back went through the back of the chair,” I said. “That explains the proximity alert I just got.” Angba leaned forward and then back again. Her back seemed more solid; the canvas was pushed by her back. And then it went through. The fabric faded to grey and then became transparent. “I’m going to try adjusting the back,” I said. I walked forward slowly and tried to push one of the ironwood support columns that the fabric was tensioned onto. By that point, the support column was grey and turning invisible. My hand went through the wood. 94 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Don’t touch the wood,” said someone. In front of me, Angba sat, with her back juxtaposed through the chair-back’s fabric. She no longer looked like a shadow, but a silvery, semi-transparent form. “Mike, get out of there.” “You’re in danger. Hurry.” “We’ll help her,” said someone else. I received the impression that several people in suits stood on either side of the chair.
AFTERWARDS I walked down my driveway as directed, around half a kilometre from the house. I stood there for half an hour, and was told I could return. Angba wasn’t sitting in the chair anymore. I later learned that Angba had been shot by a bot while she sat and her suit disabled, causing an emergency “freezing” sequence to activate in her encounter suit. She was “thawed” in a spaceplane that was monitoring the landing, and then flown to a hospital... perhaps on Raaka. She died a month later, potentially assassinated.
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November 12, 2011 The landing project was halted.
8 WEEKS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MAY 2009) HOW TO TELL IF YOU’VE BEEN ABDUCTED, THE AUSSIE WAY According to the internet, the usual signs of abduction are bruises, scratches, and triangular dot formations... as well as high hypnotherapist bills. None of these metrics worked for me. Because I volunteered at a zoo, performing physical work like captive animal/plant management, my limbs were regularly covered with scratches and bruises. I never had any triangular marks or hypnotherapists appear though. However... A mob of Northern Wallaroos (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallaroo) lives around my house. They show up at least once a day for a drink and some “horse cubes” to snack on. They sometimes sleep under my house. The only times that the wallaroo regulars aren’t around are when dingos were on the prowl... ... and for a couple days AFTER I was abducted. The hubbub of abduction would scare them off. Oh yes: A few days after being abducted, I would have an abduction dreamlet, and/or spontaneously remember part of the abduction.
REMEMBERING
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November 12, 2011 The abduction eight weeks before my hospital trip took me quite awhile to remember and reconstruct, probably because I was given large quantities of “forget me” drugs to obscure the incident. I first remembered the abduction in a dreamlet of being on a plane, as described below, and then mentally walking forwards and backwards in time from there, asking myself questions like, “What would I have done in that situation? Would I have walked left or right? Would I have stood up then? Etc.” Other techniques include asking myself questions like: “What surface texture was I standing on? What was the ceiling like? Was I holding anything? What did I eat? Were there any seats?” and “Before I noticed that I wasn’t served roasted peanuts, what did I do?”
ARE YOU OKAY? I was sitting in a business-class airplane chair; I’ve had many dreamlets/rememberings of being in business-class airplane flights since arriving in Australia (via affordable steerage in Qantas flights). It took me quite awhile to realize that Australia abduction UFOs are much-better fitted out that ye-olde sterile aluminium UFOs reported by US abductees. Someone approached; I later recalled that she was macropod-evolved. “Are you okay?” she asked telepathically. “You seem depressed.” My airplane chair was at the back of the airplane, in a small alcove all to itself... facing towards the plane’s median. I think the toilet was to my right. The airplane seats weren’t organized properly either: The airplane wasn’t rectilinear. It was mostly triangular, with the pointy end up front walled off. Seats pointed forward and/or inwards.
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AWAKE A few days later, I remembered the following abduction segment with the help of a dreamlet: I woke up in a bed. At first, I thought I was in my childhood home, and was for-somereason sleeping in my brother’s bedroom... except that the room was the wrong size, colour, shape, and the bed had hospital whites. Still thinking I was in my childhood home, I got out of bed, walked through a door, perhaps into a hallway, and then down some stairs. The stairs were actually a ramp. At the bottom of the ramp was a room. At one end was a receptionist’s counter with a receptionist standing behind, perhaps the same person that queried if I was okay. (The receptionist’s counter doubled as a wet bar.) A very-tall man in a blue (or blue-grey) uniform stood in front of the counter, looking directly at me. I didn’t notice his face. My attention was diverted to the woman behind the counter. When my eyes returned to the man, he had turned to look at someone else. I noticed his profile and commented, “Why do you have a dog’s head?” Though he didn’t show it, I may have insulted him; I believe he was also macropod-evolved. Without obvious prompting, I turned to my left and exited the room into a short hallway, heading right. Someone stood in front of me. Beyond them was a narrow elevator door. Thinking I was in a dream, I crouched down and tried to change shape, something I can sometimes do in my dreams. This didn’t work.
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November 12, 2011 Other proofs I was in a dream? I can sometimes fly in my dreams. From my crouched position, in an attempt to fly I leapt up with full force. I hit the ceiling with my hands; this UFO had reduced gravity enabled, to make moving semi-conscious abductees easier, as well as giving the crew an advantage in the event that an abductee brawl. After returning to my feet with no major injuries, I was led through the door.
THE WHITE ROOM (REMEMBERED THREE WEEKS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL) I didn’t remember this section of the abduction until three weeks before I visited the hospital. The dates are correlated. I was in a small, white-painted room, at the pointy end of a triangular UFO. Two people were in the room. One was a 5’ 6” red-haired woman who I frequently saw in UFO dreams; she sometimes sat next to me in whatever spaceplane trip I was on. The other woman was tall, very tall. She was looking straight at me. She looked somewhat green-ish. A thought escaped her mind. I counter-thought, “You’re a saurian. That doesn’t phase me.” 99 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She was relieved and then delighted that I didn’t mind she was a saurian... I knew this telepathically. In a Michael Jackson “Black or White” morphing effect, her face bubbled outwards into a Saurian face as the fields visually flattening her skull into a Hominid shape relaxed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_or_White) I could tell that the red-haired woman wasn’t very happy. Blank.
I drew a quick sketch of her on my computer.
Her facial-features aren’t proportioned correctly... and the art style I used makes her look like a Muppet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muppet) Her feathers have grown in since then, covering most of her face and back.
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November 12, 2011 In late evening, I felt a flu coming on. I awoke the next morning with a very strong flu. By noon I had a fever (and a dead battery for my digital thermometer) and a rapidly beating heart. The fever broke late in the day. I slept for a week, and didn’t fully recover from the flu for a month. I suspected I had the swine flu, but the nurse I called said I couldn’t be tested unless my fever was high enough... which it wouldn’t. She further added that the odds of my having the swine flu were very low. At the time, the Northern Territory of Australia had 64 confirmed cases... which meant the probability of me having the swine flu was around 1 in 500... assuming that only 1/4 of the swine flu cases were detected. Having experienced venom-bots since then, I now wonder if I wasn’t infected with the swine flu (or another virus) as a result of my abduction experience.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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ABDUCTION SPAM by Mike Rozak Copyleft July 2011
Me (Dumeril’s-Monitor-evolved) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumeril's_monitor)
This is a somewhat-fictional story, with a basis in reality.
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SOMETIME IN THE LATE -1980’S I adjusted my spectacles. … You’d think, that after ten-million years of evolution, we would have invented contact lenses, or at least radial keratotomy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radial_keratotomy) I am nearsighted. I am a goanna. Rather, I am a giant walking goanna, with an IQ of 210. And I am technically NOT a Goanna. Mike, the typist, thinks that I am evolved from a Dumeril’s Monitor. For his sake, he hopes he is correct. … Anyway, I adjusted my spectacles. Not-having any ears to hang the spectacle-hooks on, I held the spectacles tight-tomy-head with a bungee-band, strapped around the back of my head. In front of me was some paperwork. Literally, paper. After ten-million years, we still have paper… mostly-used for paper-airplanes, and paper hand-holding dolls. We also use paper-forms when interacting with “more primitive bureaucratic” races. The formwork in front of me was written in English. Kind-of-odd? Why would Goanna-aliens be speaking English?
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November 12, 2011 For my own part, I learned English so that I could fill-out the English formwork… and so that I could watch “Sesame Street” before abducting British people. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sesame_Street, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Britain) Actually, English, or something like it, is widely-spoken throughout the galaxy of galaxies. Basically, there are only a hundred “vocalized” language groups for Hominids. English is one of them. German another. French. Castellan. Chinese. And one that sounds like Chinese, but which isn’t. Pan-galactic English takes the form of American English, Cockney, Middle-English, and a very-difficult-to-understand 1930’s Chicago-gangster English. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cockney, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_english, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organized_crime_in_Chicago) The hundred language-groups are common to Hominids, Alotians, Simians, Chimpanzee-evolved, Gorilla-evolved, and Orangutan-evolved people. The races all have roughly the same vocalization capabilities, so they all speak the same common languages. Consequently, they tend to be allies. Approximately ten language-groups are used by the other side of the mammal branch… Goat-evolved people, Horse-evolved people, Lemurs, Squirrel-evolved people, Rat-evolved people, Rabbit-evolved people, etcetera. Mammal-languages employ fewer phonemes, both vowels and consonants. Words leak-across, from Mammal-languages to fancy-mouth languages, and vice versa. … Rather than actually learn English… I have quite a good “ear” for languages… Rather than actually learn English, my sponsor installed English-translation software into one of my mind-implants. The implant-software shipped with an E-book computer-manual, a one-thousandpage Goanna-Galactic-to-English dictionary. The E-book swapped to an English-toGoanna-Galactic dictionary, when I shook it. You’d think that flipping the E-book upside-down would reverse the translation direction. Instead, that revealed a hidden tome of children’s’ stories, written in English. Oh well. 104 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 … The television was on. It was an old black-and-white television that the Greys had looted from some military base. It even came with a rabbit-ear antennae, mostly for effect. Television-and-radio signals do NOT penetrate a UFO’s shell. We had a VERYsophisticated antennae hanging outside of our UFO. The television and radio signals were re-broadcast into the UFO’s interior so that we could watch British television. Kroo liked the radio, though. She was my roomie. Since Kroo ALWAYS tuned the radio to a 70’s disco-music radio-station, I forbade Kroo from listening to the radio. The music and DJ’s were so utterly distracting, that I could never get any work done. She ignored me, and turned the radio on anyway. I tried hiding the radio from her. She found it two days later, buried underneath some rolls of toilet-paper. I tried being polite once-more, hiding the radio underneath the toilet cistern. Kroo ignored my impoliteness, and once-again turned-on the 70’s disco-station. So, I tossed the Grey’s pilfered radio out of the airlock. Kroo could never quite find it after that. …
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November 12, 2011 Kroo’s ancestral lizard was an Asp. A hundred-million years later, she looked more like a short punk-rocker with peacock feathers. “Lizard + Feathers = Insane”, by the way.
Kroo (Asp-evolved) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viperidae)
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November 12, 2011 (A note from Mike: I was going to write that Kroo’s ancestral lizard was a “Viper”… which sounds cooler… but representatives of her race decided that they like “Asp” better, because they cannot properly-pronounce the word.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asp_(reptile) ) … Without a radio, we both watched television. Black-and-white television! From Britain. As I filled-out the English formwork, I glanced over at the flickering television. A large fluffy bird-like character was sauntering-about the television-screen. HER name was “Big bird”. I had looked her name up in the English-to-Galactic-Goanna dictionary. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Bird) I also liked the character called, “The Count”. Kroo thought him too facile, and always pointed-out that she could count up to pi ( ) by the age of three. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Count) Kroo loved the “Sesame Street” television-show though, despite the lack of irrational numbers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sesame_Street) She was a bit weird. “Weird” is a middle-English word, meaning “To dam-up”. Some creative wordsmithpunks re-defined it to mean “Friday evenings”. People who were FORCED (“dammed up”) to stay sane during the workweek, let their built-up insanity out (“weird”), after getting-off work. …
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November 12, 2011 After “Sesame Street”, came “Gilligan’s Island”. I liked that show better. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilligan%27s_Island) Kroo couldn’t stand “Gilligan’s Island”. She felt that it was-not very realistic, with coconuts and all. Coconuts merely hurt. They could NOT be used to produce two-way radios. And there was no way that drinking too-much berry-juice would cause you to glow in the dark. … After “The Count” finished counting to twelve, I returned my attention to the droll paperwork. I had already filled-in the abductee’s name, her age, her ancestry to ten generations, and a personal bio of her. Twenty pages later, I discovered that I needed to fill-in a minute-by-minute plan for her abduction. That was where the UFO’s word-processor computer became useful… Because it was connected to a printer! … And the combination could be used to automatically fill-out forms. “Kroo, what time is it here?” “4:23,” yelled-back Kroo, as she rummaged through my wardrobe. “Sesame Street” was just-about to end, and Kroo wished to be as far-away from the television as possible, before “Gilligan’s Island” refloated. If it was 4:23 now, then we would send-down a knock-out bot at precisely 8:05. Knock-out bots are invisible flying robots, about the size of a can of lima-beans. They spray knock-out liquid into a person’s brain and spinal-column. The person fallsasleep within ten minutes. I typed the knock-out bot schedule-item into the computer. We DO use an alien alphabet, by the way. It looks an awful-lot like Phoenician writing. Other people use an alphabet that looks an awful-lot like Roman writing. Others have a mixture of the twelve. In case you hadn’t guessed, your languages and 108 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 writing-alphabets are ALL “alien”. Very-few are “invented here”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phoenician_alphabet, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_alphabet) … “By 8:25 – and 32 seconds,” I typed in, “Jenny, our abductee, should be asleep on the couch. She will-have had spent a long-day working at a pizza takeaway.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pizza) Pizza was NOT invented by the Romans, by the way. It was invented by the Simians. “How long to get her up here?” yell-asked Kroo. “We can “pod” her here in ten minutes?” I answered, with a question in mind. “Okay, 12.67 minutes to pod her up here,” replied the expert. I began typing-in the number. “Wait! What do the slinks [Hominid monitors from other planets] call “podding”.” “Abduction! ” I answered. “Hmmm,” mumbled Kroo, as she clambered-up the steps to the main level. “We cannot admit to the Hominids that we have better podding-technology than their own. It-will take 18.92 minutes to physically remove Jenny from her home.” And then Kroo continued, “4 minutes to sit her down in a chair.” I typed in the timing. “What kind of tests are we performing?” I asked. “The Waltz-Wilker test.” Kroo was munching on something she picked-up at an Alotian “Piggly-Wiggly”-clone. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piggly_Wiggly) I looked-over. 109 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Kroo had her hand in an opened bag of synthetic “pork rinds”. “Can I have one of those?” I asked. “Be my guest.” Kroo tipped the bag in my direction. I took a handful. After I munched down a few circles, I asked Kroo, “Are there any other tests?” “Yeah,” Kroo’s mouth was full of food. Crumbs fell-out. “I want to scare the living daylights out-of her! ” I Goanna-smiled, which is a raised left-eyebrow accompanied by a curled-low rightlip. “That’s fine, but we need an OFFICIAL test-name for the paperwork.” “Um. Um. Um. The Zapf-Dingbats Hitchhiker test.” “Okay. Sounds good to me.” At that point, I had never heard of the Zapf-Dingbat font, nor the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” computer adventure-game. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zapf_Dingbats, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy) I typed-in the entries. “I’ll give 18.9342 minutes for the first test, and 32.34 minutes for the second.” The Hominids wanted EVERYTHING down-and-accurate to the MINUTE, so we overcomplied. … On television, Gilligan’s head was impacted by a coconut. A pizza-commercial came on. … “Do we need anything else?” I asked. 110 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yeah, invent another test for sundries.” I began to type-in another fake-test. “Oops,” I thought… My form-filling-out mind-implant had reminded me of Hominid bureaucratic-nonsense. “Sorry, we-are only allowed two tests.” Kroo grimaced. “We need more TIME!” answered Kroo, imitating a British moviescene. “What else can we have her do?” “I know!” I raised my pen in exclamation. Goannas LOVE raising their pen in exclamation. “I’ll take DNA samples of her hair. I always wanted some hair as a souvenir.” “Damn! You-are worse than I am.” “DNA samples… 12 minutes.” I typed. “And don’t forget, six minutes to return her.” “Okay, got that.” I typed in some more form-text. “Anything else?” Kroo had somehow pulled a lollypop out from behind the pork-rind bag. It was already in her mouth. “Nope,” answered Kroo. She had not gotten to the gooey-center yet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tootsie_Pops) Finished! I replied with a, “Krakrakrakra”, which meant “Voila!”, and then pressed the “Print” button on the printer. After two-million years of computers, someone eventually 111 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 realized that a “Print” keyboard-button (Or “Prt Sc” as you call it) was useless. A “Print” menu-item is also useless. A “Print” button on the front of the printer is brilliant! Kroo pulled the now-sticky lollypop out of her mouth. Her species didn’t invent enough saliva to turn lollypops slimy. “Okay, what about Bob? When do we pick him up?” “Don’t worry about Bob. The Greys have offered to abduct him tonight. We only have one abduction.” Kroo’s right-finger was raised in worry, along with her eyebrows. “Yeah, but we-are getting paid for a full eight hours. What do we do with our spare time?” My face emoted a crafty Goanna-emote… “Let’s show ourselves over the Statue of Liberty.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Statue_of_Liberty) Kroo nodded a “No”. “They don’t want us messing with the United States. “Back to the future” already has them riled-up.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Back_to_the_Future) “How about the pyramids?” Kroo’s eyes slowly squinted in deviousness. My eyes sparkled back. “I won’t write that on the list then. ” … The schedule sheets printed out.
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ABDUCTION PREPARATION “Do you want to sit-in the comfy chair tonight?” I asked Kroo. “Sure, I like running the bots.” Kroo leaned-back into the mostly-vertical “comfy” chair. It was a metal arc-chair, with sparkling-red barbershop vinyl-upholstery backrests and butt-cushions. Since the chair was mostly-vertical, Kroo was effectively standing, with a back-lean. Kroo lifted her left foot, and I swiveled the left foot-plate underneath it. She setdown her left foot onto the foot-plate, and “stood up”, raising her body slightly. I swiveled the right foot-plate underneath Kroo’s right-foot, as she lifted her foot. Kroo lowered her right-foot to the foot-rest. With both feet on the arc-chair’s footplates, I swiveled the chair to be more-horizontal. Kroo was rotated to a forty-five degree angle. Her feet held less of her weight. She was now looking up, at the room’s corner. With Kroo “seated”, I pushed the chair’s bot-monitor control-panel in front of Kroo, and adjusted its height. It was a mini-desk with five small embedded-monitors. Kroo angled the mini-desk, so that she could more-easily see the monitor-displays. I handed Kroo her left and right hand-controls, thumb-joysticks with finger-buttons. They were a bit oversized for her, but she managed. I stood two-meters tall; Kroo was only one-point-six – one-point-seven on a good day. I looked at one of the Earth wrist-watches strapped to my left-wrist. Abductees leave-behind all sorts of paraphernalia. “Okay, it’s 7:55.” “Note to dictation machine:” I thought to myself. “Bots deployed.” The bots didn’t take long to find their way to Jenny’s apartment. Technically, we were parked directly-underneath her apartment, in the solid ground.
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November 12, 2011 Kroo thumb-wielded the hand-controls, maneuvering the camera-bots about Jenny’s apartment. Camera-bots are invisible, very quiet, and they can fly through walls. Jenny, the night’s abductee, wouldn’t be able to see them. “I’ve got her on the scope,” observed Kroo. She watched WAY too-much British television. That line must have come from a “World War II” submarine-movie rebroadcast. On one of the small monitors in front of Kroo, I could see an elevated camera angle of Jenny’s apartment-interior. Jenny had just entered her apartment, with a largebut-very-flat box in hand. “What’s that?” asked Kroo, pointing to the flat square box on the monitor. She zoomed-in with the camera-bot’s optics. “Hmmm,” I checked the Earth-Sol-database connected to my thoughts. Ten second later… “It’s a “pizza box”! It contains a food made out of flour, tomatoes, cheese, and pig.” Kroo’s eye lit up. “I’ve always wanted to try that.” “Not tonight.” We watched as Jenny put the pizza-box on the coffee-table in front of her couch. She turned-on the television. Jenny always turned-on the television at this time. She wandered-off for a few minutes, and then returned. “What time is it?” asked Kroo. I checked my watches. “8:06,” I answered.
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November 12, 2011 I only had three mechanical clock-face watches. At some point, I hoped to get an Earth-Sol digital-watch. Sally, two UFOs over, already had a red-LED digital-watch left by an abductee. Kroo looked over-and-up at me, sidetracking my watch-acquisition thoughts. “I gave her Xylaphene while she was up. She should be falling-asleep in about two minutes.” Jenny laid-down on the couch. “Okay. Noted.” I didn’t think to think that Jenny would sleep through her pizza. We both watched Jenny fall-asleep. “8:09:30, Jenny is asleep,” I noted. “You-are masterful. Noted in my log,” replied Kroo. Her facetiousness may have indicated her annoyance at my logging obsession. With Jenny asleep, we next had to “abduct” her. Since Kroo had done the bot work, it was my turn to do some work: “I’ll warm-up the “arm” for the pod.” “No, don’t bother,” said Kroo, with a twinkle in her voice. “I’ll do that. You go downstairs and get your outfit ready.” Ever since the Greys got their costume-party in the book, Communion, every alien in the galaxy had a thing for dressing-up in front of abductees. I had a special costume prepared for the night. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Communion_(book) ) “Fair enough. I’ll be down in the lobby.” For historical purposes, I called the toilet, “The lobby”, since whenever I visited it, someone ran-in complaining-of some form of trouble. While Kroo maneuvered-out of the red-chair, I wandered into the next room, and down the stairs. 115 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Below, I found my costume, a feathery-pink shawl… it went well with Kroo’s blue feathers… and an oversized Hawaiian shirt. I donned the two items. Since I still had at least ten minutes, I decided to relieve myself in the toilet. Abductions were notoriously stressful, and sometimes lasted all night. “Knock her out! NOW! I gotta go pee!” was one of the more quotable lines from an abductionouttake blooper-real, shown at a party two years ago. I locked the toilet-room door. No-one interrupted me. That finished with, I returned upstairs, to see how the pod-work had fared.
PIZZA DELIVERY “That was fast!” I congratulated, when I saw Kroo upstairs, standing next to our abductee, Jenny. Jenny stood a head higher than Kroo, who held onto Jenny’s arm, grandmotherly-like. In Kroo’s other hand was a well-balanced pizza-box. Pizza box… The pizza box was not on the schedule. Should I note that in my log? “Most-likely not”, thought Kroo to me. I didn’t dare ask Kroo how she had gotten the pizza-box. She couldn’t do that with “the pod”. She must have used a different non-sanctioned form of abduction. I was 116 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 comfortable dropping the co-abduction of the pizza-box from the log, but I would have to correct the abduction-log to indicate a different method of “delivery”. Jenny was effectively unconscious… but mobile. Drugged with Xylaphene, Kroo could telepathically walk Jenny anywhere, zombie-like. Xylaphene only affected about half of the potential candidates. We tested all of our abductees for predictable-susceptibility to the narcotic before abducting them. Without full-and-predictable effects, Xylaphene-drugged abductees could wake-up at any time. Many potential abductees were rejected because they didn’t respond properly to any of the approved narcotics. Even though Jenny was moderately susceptible to Xylaphene, she could still wake-up if something frightened her. From now-on, both Kroo and I went “telepathic only”. We didn’t want to make any noises, or sudden moves. Kroo set the pizza-box down on the lab table. Still holding Jenny’s arm, Kroo peeked inside to see exactly what pizza was. None of the food-items appealed to me, except for the pork. Kroo was more of a granivore. She would be able to eat the pizza. “First item,” I telepathed. “What time is it?” I looked my pilfered lost-and-found Earth wristwatches, “8:22”. We weren’t supposed to be that quick nabbing her. I logged the time as 8:46. I continued with the exam. “Patient’s health?” I telepathically asked Kroo. Kroo looked Jenny over. “Plump. Not pregnant. She’s been eating too-much beef.” “Any signs of injury?” “She has a scar underneath her left cheek where I dropped her?” “Dropped her?” I asked astonishingly-blinking. “It’s a short story. I’ll tell you about it later.”
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November 12, 2011 I rocked my shoulders left-and-right in indecision. “Next… What is her skin-condition like?” “Healthy. Not very green… or blue.” Kroo wasn’t taking the abduction very seriously. “Do you have the Waltz-Wilker test prepared?” Kroo asked. “Yes I do.”
“WAKE HER UP, SHE’S HUNGRY !” ALTERNATIVE TITLE: NEVER MIND-PLAY WITH AN INSANE FEATHER-WIELDING ALIEN WITH AN IQ OF 220. I gathered the tools that I needed to perform the Waltz-Wilker test. It is an intelligence-test that we can perform while someone is under Xylaphene hypnosis. Under Xylaphene, a person’s soul is essentially asleep… except for their soul-stem. By the way, souls look something like mulberry bushes that grow out of the back of people’s necks, but they’re invisible, and weasels don’t pop out of them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pop_Goes_the_Weasel) To perform the Waltz-Wilker test, I had installed a “happy” implant in Jenny, to keep her feeling calm and peaceful. We had done this several months before, just to make sure it worked. All I had to do, was telepathically turn-on the preinstalled happy-implant… I did so. I then had a medical-bot spray Erase-a-Xylaphene on one of Jenny’s memory pods, and wake it up. 118 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A minute later, with Jenny’s memory-pod awake, I needed to see how known stimuli affected the memory pod. I pulled out a thirty-centimeter blue stiff-card with an illustration of a housecat. Jenny stared at it. Some of implants that we had preinstalled in Jenny, combined with readings from the medical bot, produced a stimulus rating of two-point-three units in the memorypod. Behind that flash-card was an algebra equation. That generated ten-point-nine points! The next card, my eyes bobbled in anticipation, was a calculus integral-equation. Anyone who had ever taken calculus, should go off-the chart with angst. Jenny’s memory-pod stimulus-rating fell-down to one-point-eight units. She had the equivalent of a typical high-school British-education. An “average” testsubject. Finished with Jenny’s first memory-pod, I had the medical-bot spray Xylaphene-Two on the pod, to put it to sleep. I then had the medical-bot spray Erase-a-Xylaphene on one of Jenny’s logic-pods. I asked Jenny some questions by playing prerecorded British text-to-speech. “The automobile is red,” said the Hominid British-voice emanating from a small audio-player that I held in my hand. Eight-point-twelve. “After much work, the sparrow ate cream cheese.” Nine-point-six. That sentence didn’t make sense. 119 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “My lobotomy uses six insertion points to ambulate the brain cranium,” the machine spoke. Point-one… I didn’t even understand that one. … Thirty minutes later, I had worked through nine of Jenny’s thought-and-logic pods. While the Waltz-Wilker test was authentically used in serious science to determine where someone’s intelligence, abilities, and memories lie, ABDUCTION WAS NOT A SERIOUS SCIENCE. It was more political subterfuge. We had plenty of time. Jenny would remain out-of-it for several hours. Kind of… Kroo was devious. The medical-bot was NOT loaded with Xylaphene-Two! It had been loaded with a placebo… most-likely sugar-water. With the first test finished, it was Kroo’s turn to lead, “I’ll get the soul visible-izer”. And then Kroo continued, “The visible-izer is right-by the pizza box.” Kroo searched-around the pizza-box, but couldn’t find the tool. The countertop HAD been clean when Kroo had put the pizza-box on it. “Oh no, it [the visible-izer] isn’t here. Where did I put it?” As though she knew where the visible-izer was, Kroo looked underneath the pizza box. “Nope.” “Maybe it’s inside the pizza-box?” Kroo telepathed, as she looked inside. 120 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Kroo’s motion was super-fast… before I even noticed, she had a slice of pizza in her hand, and was eating it. “How did you do that?” I telepathically asked. “Oh, just some time slicing,” Kroo said with feigned embarrassment. Eyes left-and-right in dismay. “You guys are all tech, aren’t you?” “Yeah,” answered Kroo, in a very-slow knowing voice. “Want some?” THAT was a command from Kroo. She was going to make me eat a slice. “Okay. Sure. A bit won’t kill me.” I ambled over to the pizza-box. Kroo politely pulled-away a triangle from the circle, and handed it to me. I just-about had the pizza-wedge in my mouth, when Kroo distracted me with a “Look over there!” prompt. Kroo pointed behind me. I turned-around quickly. I didn’t notice it, but my goanna-tail hit Jenny, as I spun-about. Or at least, that’s what Kroo said later-on, when I was logging the incident for our superiors. The form-work that was sent to the Hominids didn’t mention anything that happened after the Waltz-Wilker test. “Watch out, you’ll wake her up,” loudly-whispered Kroo. I return spun-back around. And then played “Quiet”. My eyes ogled about, in watchful-wariness. 121 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I peaked at Jenny with my eyes, my entire body still-stiff with “I’m hiding” vibes. I hadn’t done that since I was a child, hiding in a game of hide-and-seek, in a dark room. Jenny appeared to have woken-up. Oops. She was looking me over. “Stay absolutely stiff-still,” I thought to myself. I expected a panicked scream from Jenny… which is what typically happens when a female abductee wakes-up. But, Jenny stayed calm and quiet. Apparently, two-meter-tall monitor-lizards wearing Hawaiian shirts aren’t very scary. “Jenny,” said Kroo in accented English. “This is Wendy.” Jenny looked me over. She had never seen a goanna with a hairdo. Obviously. “Pizza?” Kroo asked Jenny… or rather commanded… as she handed Jenny a triangle of pizza.
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CAPTAIN’S TOUR “She’s not frightened?” I asked Kroo, telepathically. “No. She isn’t,” Kroo commanded. “Are you sure she’s awake?” “Eat some pizza, and find out.” That sounded like a low-scream experiment… I bit into my slice of pizza. It tasted horrible, even with the abundant pork-circles. Jenny watched, eyes and mouth agape as the Xylaphene wore off. Kroo shoved the open pizza-box in front of Jenny, to see if she wanted any. It was Jenny’s pizza, after all. The girl looked around a bit. She didn’t seem to notice the pizza-box. With one hand, Kroo proffered the box in front of Jenny’s face once-more. Kroo held a pizza-slice in her other hand, occasionally taking a bite. Like a good child, I ate my entire piece of pizza. Kroo, having an IQ of 220, did NOT finish her pizza-slice. Jenny obviously wasn’t interested in the pizza. The pizza-box went back onto the countertop. Jenny continued to watch me. I played “cookie monster”… or was it “big bird”… and waved for Jenny to follow me around the spaceplane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cookie_Monster) Jenny followed, un-screaming. Not even a peep from her. 123 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As I led Jenny on a tour, Kroo grandmother-like pushed Jenny from behind, just to make sure Jenny followed me without any complaint. What kind of tour was I supposed to give? I first showed Jenny the red bot-control chair. Jenny looked at it, and wondered why she was looking at a chair. After Jenny was given two minutes to gaze at the red-chair, I led her to our command-center, as we called it, in the center of the UFO. My UFO was circular. It had two floors. The top floor had a central “command center” surrounded by four arc-rooms… looking something like a circular Mastermind electronic-game. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milton_Bradley_Company) The red-chair was in one of the arc-rooms. The next arc-room over had stairs going down to a storeroom, engine-room, my bedroom, and “The Lobby”. One of the arc-rooms was Kroo’s temporary bedroom. Another had the “in and out bits” that allowed us to enter and leave the UFO. … We were in the command center. Jenny briefly looked-around the circular room. When I hand-prompted for Jenny to look at all of the dials and gizmos on the control-desks attached to the walls of the room, Jenny did-so. They obviously weren’t all-that interesting. Jenny’s gaze wandered-about to see what was going-on elsewhere in the room. 124 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She didn’t seem to notice Kroo. Perhaps Kroo was too short-and-feathery. Or perhaps Kroo had some sort of magic hiding-ability. Jenny eventually returned her gaze towards me. She stared. We monitor-lizards are very self-conscious. Embarrassed by the attention, I pointed at more control-panel gizmos. Weren’t they cool? There really wasn’t much-more in the UFO to show-off. Jenny still wasn’t interested in the buttons. What now? Jenny said something to me. I didn’t understand what she said, though. Her telepathy implants were muted so that she wouldn’t broadcast anything to spying Hominid monitor-bots. Jenny said something else. Nope. Didn’t understand. I swayed my head left-and-right to indicate to Jenny that her words made no sense. She didn’t understand that I didn’t understand. Jenny said something else. Jenny was getting frustrated. That much we could tell. I thought about un-muting Jenny’s telepathy, but decided it would be safer not-to. I did remember the old standby. On one command-center desk was Jenny’s paperwork, and a pen. 125 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I found an empty (or unimportant) sheet, and handed it to her. Along with the pen. Jenny got the point. Standing beside Jenny, I craned my neck sideways so that I could see what Jenny drew on the paper. We monitor-lizards have long necks. She wasn’t a bad artist. Jenny stopped illustrating. She had drawn a small sketch of a Grey’s head. My turn? How should I respond to a “Grey” hieroglyphic noun/verb/adjective? I politely took the paper from Jenny’s hands, and drew an equally-small sketch of a lizard, the same sketch that I had been drawing since I was a three-year-old child. And the with same three-year-old-child ability. It looked like a sausage-tube on rollers, with two dots for eyes.
I wasn’t a very-good artist. Unlike my five-year-old niece, Jenny didn’t laugh at my artwork when I handed the paper back to her. She propped-up her lip with the pen’s back.
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November 12, 2011 Jenny next drew a picture of a planet… it must have been hers. We had no clue what her continent configuration was. “Sesame Street” hadn’t covered that. Jenny handed the paper back to me. Perhaps her planet illustration was asking, “Where are we?” My head nodded back and forth. Our location was difficult to explain. I drew my UFO hovering above the planet. My UFO was two counter-facing semiarcs, with a hemi-arc on top. Technically, we were in the planet at the time, about a kilometer below Jenny’s house. Jenny was satisfied with my illustration. Next question? I handed the paper back to Jenny. Jenny drew a galaxy. Her telepathy was leaking through by now. Kroo was slowly turning it up. I knew that Jenny wanted to know where we were from. I put the sketch-paper with the galaxy-illustration down on the control panel. I pointed to the galaxy icon with my finger, my finger pointing vertically down. With my finger still pointing down, I walked to the edge of the control-room, and stopped. We actually came-from further-away than that, but I would have to walk twenty meters outside of the UFO to be accurate. The relative-distance that I used, would sufficiently hint to Jenny approximately how far we had come. “What was in-between?” telepathed Jenny. “Lots of people,” I thought to her. I was getting all-motherly. 127 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Oh,” she thought. “Telepathy is on again. I vaguely remember this part. They didn’t steal my pizza the last time.” “Shhh,” I telepathically whispered to Jenny. I didn’t want us overheard by “you know who”. Since Jenny was coherent and communicatable, I gave-up on the pictogram discussion, and continued with the UFO-interior tour. I showed her Kroo’s room, which had a small bed and a dresser. Kroo had a photograph of her family on the dresser. Jenny picked-up the photograph, and examined it. She set it down gently. What was next? I opened the store-room door. Jenny peered in at the mess, and eyed the mop hanging on the door’s inside. “It’s like a camper-trailer,” thought Jenny.
“QUICK! PRETEND THAT YOU’RE DEAD!” And THEN, alerts went-off in my head. The Hominids had sent a spaceplane-bot to check us out. We weren’t entirely-legitimately abducting one of THEIR citizens. “Damn!” I thought. Kroo telepath-commanded to Jenny, “Quick! Pretend that you’re dead!” At first, Jenny didn’t comprehend the telepath… But then she became extremely quiet. 128 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 So did Kroo and I. Fortunately, we were all in the command-center. I reached-over to one of the command-consoles, and pressed a few innocuous buttons. Two minutes later, I telepathically informed Jenny, “We are now in another galaxy.” “… just a bit of a hiccup.” “… we had to avoid an… an… an incoming asteroid,” I smudged. “… that looked like Elvis,” lied Kroo with raised eyebrows. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elvis_Presley) We all stood silently… … waiting for an all-clear. Kroo and I listened to telepathic alerts from our spaceplane to be certain that we weren’t followed. Meanwhile, some Wolfen (Wolf-evolved people) in a wedding-spaceplane, began eyeing my UFO suspiciously. It had suddenly appeared near their wedding party. They were unlikely to attack us, I concluded. I didn’t try to signal them. We waited for ten minutes, in near-total silence. And then I spoke to Kroo Jenny… “We-are going to have to return you home before they [the Hominids] suspect anything.” “Unfortunately, you-are not going to remember anything after this…”
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THE UFO-ABDUCTION “SPAM LIST” Jenny got home safely. Unfortunately for us, the Hominid monitor-people saw our evasive maneuver… And, other “alien” people heard of the event. … Let me explain: For the uninitiated abductee… There are three UFO abductee-lists: There is a list of people that you will never-ever abduct again, and that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. These are people who freak-out, scream uncontrollably, throw stuff, and/or who quote verses from holy texts. There is a list of people that you will never-ever abduct again, but who you WOULD wish on your worst enemy. And then there’s a list of people that get abducted. And then there’s the FOURTH list… the list of people that are fun to abduct. Jenny’s name was put onto that fourth list. Now that Jenny was enrolled onto the fourth list… As with Tigger, in the onehundred-acre forest, Jenny had many other abduction experiences over the next six months. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tigger, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundred_Acre_Wood) 130 | P a g e
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POSTMORTEM Unfortunately, Tigger is only a stuffed animal, and stuffed animals are easily tornapart… … Particularly when Christopher Robinson is a greedy Hominid bastard from another planet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Robin) Abductees on the fourth list have a tendency to die. They have fun being abducted. They write down all sorts of stories. Or they draw all sorts of pictures. And they tell all of their friends, or none at all, about their adventures in the onehundred-acre forest. The Hominid minders find out. At first, the friendly-fun abductees are telepathically harassed. And then they get chronic-fatigue syndrome. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronic_fatigue_syndrome) And then someone accidentally euthanizes them while they’re on a UFO… … Where their soul is connected to an alien body. Where they are flown far-far away from Christopher Robinson, by Eeyore, Pooh, Rabbit, and Piglet too. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eeyore, 131 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winnie-the-Pooh, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit_(Winnie_the_Pooh), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piglet_(Winnie_the_Pooh) ) … Their dead body is returned to their pizza-box-filled apartment. No-one finds their body for a week. They may have had a heart attack. Or perhaps a narcotics drug-overdose.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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AFTER THE “DEAD LIST” – I’M A DEER By Mike Rozak and some CalTech Deer and Rodents Copyleft 2010
CHRONIC FATIGUE My alarm clock displayed 10:06, in the morning. Crap. I felt like crap. I rolled over onto my back and stared at my chintzy ceiling light, a few desiccated bug-carcases collected by the frosted glass just underneath the light-bulbs. I noticed the water stain in the corner of the ceiling, for the six-hundred and fortyseventh time. It wasn’t there when I moved in, but whoever lived above me had let their bathroom sink run a bit too long. I occasionally heard the tromping of small feet above, so the culprit must have been their child. Did I want to get up? No. My brain hurt. 133 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I let myself fall asleep again. I woke up again. This time it was 12:18. I had to get up; the toilet called. I rolled out of bed, quite slowly. My clothes were piled in a heap in the corner. That would do. There was no point washing them, or even putting them in a laundry basket. I wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing lately, just my pyjamas. Bathroom time. I brushed my teeth while I was there. My hair was a mess. I hadn’t combed it for a few days. Long hair was a pain in the ass, especially when you spent all day sleeping on it. Food. Cereal worked. It was easy. I had stocked up on five cartons of orange juice the last time I made it to the store, three days ago. Two cartons left, I downed two glasses. My daily chores done, I returned to my bedroom. Should I check my E-mail? No. What was today? Wednesday. 134 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I had another doctor’s appointment on Friday. More blood tests. The lot. I still had two weeks of sick-leave left. Back in bed, I fell asleep again. I awoke sometime in the dark, my brain didn’t hurt. It was numb. I didn’t bother to check my alarm-clock for the time. Back to sleep.
THE HOSPITAL My eyes were open, looking up at a high concrete ceiling. An industrial-looking light hung from the ceiling. The room sounded large. There was motion around me that I couldn’t see. Someone moved to my right. “She’s awake. I’ll go onto the next one.” Did I hear someone say that? Crap, my eyes were bad. I needed glasses for reading normally, but not for distance. The light looked blurry. Did I have some mucus in my eye? 135 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My mouth tasted funny too, like chemicals. Something wasn’t right. I didn’t remember where I had gone to sleep, but I certainly wasn’t in my condo. Was I in a hospital? “Just lie still for a few minutes,” someone said. No; they didn’t “say” it. I just understood that they said it. Someone walked past my feet, perhaps a nurse. To my right, the first voice was talking to someone, something about “Time to wake up.” I licked my lips. They still tasted funny. And they didn’t feel right, a bit numb. Something must have happened. Did I have a car crash? Was there an earthquake? Two people were doing something next to me, perhaps helping another patient. I blinked to clear my eyes. Was I wearing some sort of mask? Perhaps for oxygen? Out of the bottom periphery of my vision, I could see something covering my nose. I heard the two nurses walk away to the right. Other people also moved around. It felt like a triage room. There must have been an earthquake. I decided to sit up and have a look around. I tentatively raised my right knee, hoping nothing was broken. 136 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My foot slid on the stainless-steel table that I was lying on. My knee bent, but my foot didn’t feel right. I must have had been bandaged. My ankle bent though. That was good. It wasn’t broken. “Don’t move your head,” someone told me in a friendly voice. Only they didn’t speak. I let my leg slide back to horizontal. I waited a few more minutes, staring unthinkingly up. My lips still felt weird. The medical taste seemed to be going away. My teeth weren’t right. Were they broken? I probed with my tongue. Crap. Both my eye teeth were missing, maybe some teeth near those. I’d need reconstructive dental surgery. I remembered someone at Caltech who had been mugged. His front teeth were bashed in and broken by a steel pipe. The dentist fixed his teeth after only a few visits... although one of his caps eventually fell off. Would I need my eye-teeth fixed, or could I leave gaps? I thought about this. Missing eye-teeth might look a bit yokelish. I licked my lips again. My saliva was awfully thick. How was my hand?
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November 12, 2011 I raised my hand to look at it, hoping that it wasn’t broken. Hmmm. That’s a weird bandage, I thought. My fingers were bandaged together with some tan gauze. The tips of my fingers had some sort of rubber stoppers on the end.
NURSES “Okay, your turn.” A nurse walked into my field of view, looking down over me. She didn’t look like a nurse. Her head looked like a deer. Hmmm. I must have bumped my head. “Don’t mention that I think I’m seeing a deer,” I thought to myself. I didn’t want to be in the hospital any longer than I needed to. “Let’s help you sit up.” Someone was behind me. The nurse in front of me braced my feet so I wouldn’t slide off the table. The one behind pulled up on my shoulders. I helped by raising my head and back, and pushing myself up with my hands. Both of my hands felt bandaged. 138 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My back felt stiff also. It didn’t hurt. It was just stiff... or just odd. With the nurses’ help, I sat up. Crap. The one in front of me was definitely a deer, except she walked. Or I had serious brain damage. Don’t mention the deer, I reminded myself. She gave me a deriding look. I didn’t know deer could deride. She was a walking deer, of course. She had hands... ... just like mine. I looked down at my hands.
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They weren’t bandaged with tan bandages, and those weren’t rubber finger-tip covers. And I was naked... as a deer... which didn’t really bother me, because I had never actually seen a clothed deer, until now. And my breasts were gone. Was I female? “Yes, you’re a woman,” said the person in front of me. I wasn’t looking at her, but noticed her head tilt slightly in amusement. I looked up at her. 140 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I’m not wearing a mask, am I?” I said. I literally said it. It came out sounding alternately very squeaky and guttural. “No, that’s your new face.” Her lips didn’t move. ... Her lips didn’t move. ... Ah, telepathy I thought. Or very severe brain damage. Maybe I couldn’t perceive people’s lips moving. “She’s brightening up,” said the one behind me. “Her soul seems to be attached well.” What the hell is going on? I thought. The deer in front of me looked down towards me. “I’m an elk, by the way.” I didn’t know there was a difference. “We need to get you out of here. We need this table for another body.” That statement didn’t make much sense. I wasn’t religious. But was I in hell? Her head fell. “No, you’re not in hell.” And at the same time she thought, “I hope you’re not one of those. We’ve had four of them already today. God, I hate them.” “We’ll help you off the table.” “Slide your legs to your right, and we’ll help you step down.” I swivelled to the right, watching my body as I moved.
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November 12, 2011 My hands slid on the stainless steel. They didn’t grip well. I had a deer-tail. I lowered my legs over the right edge of the table. “Just a minute, and we’ll help you to the ground. You’ll find it difficult to walk. Try to walk on your tip-toes.” With their assistance, I slid myself off the table. My feet were soon on the floor. “Remember, walk on tip-toes.” I had already forgotten that advice. I readjusted so that more weight was on my toes. They had very little feeling in them. “Try to stand up.” In front of me was another table with another deer lying on her back. She rolled her head over towards me and gave a shocked look. “Shit, you’re a deer,” she thought as she stared at me. Well so are you! Someone smile-chuckled telepathically. “Now, we’re going to stand you up... ON YOUR TIP-TOES.” I stood up. My muscles were weak. The deer on the table in front of me still stared. She hadn’t noticed her own hands. With both deer... Elk... nurses helping me, I turned left and was guided away from the row of stainless steel tables. Almost all of them had humanoid deer on them. 142 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We’ll lead you to an orientation room.” “Jeng, please help. She isn’t very steady.” With one Elk nurse on each side, I was walked away from the tables. At the end of the triage room, was a door. Shouldn’t I have some clothes on before leaving the hospital ward? I wondered where my clothes had gone. “We’ll get you some clothes in a bit.” “Just let us walk you. It isn’t far.” We were in a long concrete bunker-like hospital ward. We walked through the doorway into a claustrophobic concrete bunker-like hallway, with red-painted symbols indicating directions. When we reached a T intersection, we turned right. I tried to think of a question to ask. “Just wait. I’ll orient you in a bit.”
BEETLEJUICE We turned right into a corridor. And right again a bit further on. We walked into a small, concrete bunker-like room. It had a plastic ficus tree in the corner. 143 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And one lounge-like chair with a red-brown vinyl covering. The nurses helped me sit in the chair. One nurse left the room. The other stayed and glared at me. Where am I? “I can’t tell you that for security reasons, but I can inform you that you died.” Neither of those responses made much sense. I expected something like, “You’re in Gotham-city hospital, and you’re safe now.” How did I die? “I don’t know. The whispers found you and brought you to us.” That didn’t make sense. The room felt even more claustrophobic than the hallway, despite the attempted décor. Why did the hospital feel like a bunker? The deer... Elk!... nurse in front of me looked around. “We are in a war, you know.” War? “With the Hominids. And some monkeys.” (Most of the Simian-evolved races are no longer aligned with the Hominids.) Was I dead? “Yes. You died.”
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November 12, 2011 This didn’t look like heaven. She lowered her head in exasperation. “Am I in hell?” I asked in my squeaky/deep voice. “No. You’re not in hell. You’re on another planet.” War? The United States wasn’t at war with anyone. “Is that where you came from?” That didn’t parse. Pause. “No, we’re not at war with your former nation yet.” Another Elk entered the room and handed my nurse-Elk a piece of paper. She looked at it, frowned (I think), and passed it back. “I hate this crap!” she said to the person showing her the paper. The other humanoid Elk left the room. As she did so, a thought tickled my mind. Beetlejuice, the movie. The civil-servant hag who smoked through her tracheotomy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beetlejuice) That earned me a nasty look. “What was that?” Are you a civil servant? I didn’t speak this time. She thought a moment, and replied, “Yes, I suppose so.” 145 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Do I have to return to my home and haunt it? “No, they might eat you if you did that.” That didn’t make sense. I couldn’t be eaten if I were a ghost. Wait, I wasn’t a ghost. I wasn’t thinking properly. Maybe I was in Beetlejuice, the world... or maybe the movie was somehow inspired by reality. What do I do (if I don’t haunt my home)? Am I a civil servant? I thought both of these questions at the same time. She looked left-up and right-up. “I suppose you are a civil servant also.” And then she added, “We won’t put you to work for a few days though.” “And then it’ll be mostly computer work.” “You should find that easy. You were quite intelligent, with a degree in biochemistry.” How did she know that? Wait, don’t answer that. What is going on here... if I’m not in hell. I certainly wasn’t in heaven. It might be purgatory. “Damn telepathic spam! There are a LOT of people in the ward who think they’ve died and gone to hell. Ignore them.” I looked at my hand. 146 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Deer in hell didn’t make much sense. “Elk. Deer have fingers like this,” she held up her hand and tried to point out the difference to me. Deer, elk. Why were hands/hoofs and fingers important? I didn’t care. I realized that I was tired. “We aren’t going to let you sleep yet.” She thought about kicking me semi-jokingly. “Let me pull out the terminal.” The nurse walked left of me, and wheeled a low table that had been sitting there in front me. I hadn’t noticed it, probably because it was hidden in the corner, by the doorway. On the table was a very-wide flat-screen monitor. It had a black background with blue and green text on it. Lots of blue and green text, all in Excel columns. “We know this is a bit confusing for you, so we’re going to try and get you in contact with some of your friends.” That sounded like a good idea to me. I tried to think of Jenny’s phone number. “No, don’t worry about phone numbers.” “What is her full name?” Jenny Fullwaite. The table also had a keyboard with oversized keys. She typed in into the terminal. I think she typed in “Jenny Fullwaite,” but the font didn’t look correct. 147 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The screen changed. It was now largely blank. “No, she’s not telepathic.” The nurse typed in some more text, and a few rows of entries appeared. “A few of your friends are somewhat telepathic. John, Ben, Mary, and your cousin Wendy.” (By the way, names have been changed to protect the individuals.) “Hmmm,” she thought. “I want to find you some friends who are more telepathic.” “Let me extend the query.” The nurse typed in something else. The user-interface reminded me of the one that bank tellers used. The screen filled with more names, all in a foreign-looking font. She scanned the list with her finger and pointed to a name that was bolded. She scanned the list some more, scrolling it by touching the screen, and dragging the virtual paper up. The nurse dragged the list back down to the one bolded name. “You may not want to talk to him.” She typed some more. “Let me try a wider search.” A longer list appeared, which she scrolled around. “No good. ” The nurse turned around to face me. She had been concentrating on the terminal. “Do you remember Paul from CalTech?”
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November 12, 2011 I thought. Yes. Wait a minute. How did she know about Caltech? How did she know about Paul? “We have a database of millions of people from your planet.” Yeah, but... “No, it’s around 100 million.” How do you know if they’re telepathic? “We have implanted them, or we use other people’s implants.” Implants? “That’s how you’re doing telepathy now and talking to me. We have a telepathic implant in you.” That almost made sense, but how were my friends implanted? “Just a bit of technology. Lots of people are implanted.” Don’t they know it? “No, most of the implants are just monitoring them. They can’t actually use them for telepathy or to access information.” Are you sure? I never heard about that. “You may not have heard because most people on your planet don’t know about telepathy.” If that was the case, then...
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November 12, 2011 My thought was finished by the Elk. “We have people who monitor what’s happening on Earth. It’s their job. They write down what people do, and who they interact with.” I didn’t believe it... but I did. I wasn’t sure why Elk were monitoring Humans though. It sounded like a Far Side cartoon. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Far_Side) “Bummer of a birthmark,” smiled the Elk. Yeah, that was Far Side. “The system is kind of like Facebook, except you don’t have to enter the information yourself.” I had two simultaneous thoughts: You know about Facebook? Won’t they go out of business? And a third... Do I have shares in the company? Maybe I should sell them. “Yes, we know about Facebook.” “We don’t let people add their own personal photos though.” Incredulous pause on my part. “Do you have any problems talking with Paul?” No. Why would I have any problems? How come I can talk to him? “He’s very telepathic.” He never told me. “Probably not. We tell telepathic people not to tell others that they’re telepathic.” So the Earth is crawling with telepathic people and I didn’t know? 150 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Basically.” “Just a minute, I’m trying to ring Paul.” My nurse looked like she was concentrating. She didn’t pull out any phone though. “Telepathic phone-call.” Oh, I got it. She squinted. “Sorry, Paul is busy at the moment.” “We’ll have to try again later.” So I had been living on Earth, and there were telepathic people all around who weren’t letting me in on the secret. Bastards! And I was pissed off when Jane had gotten an iPhone prototype from a friend at Apple. She hadn’t shown it to me until I noticed her nonchalantly using the high-tech phone
CALTECH “DEAD LIST” ALUMNI My eyes drooped. “We can’t let you go to sleep yet.” “Let me see if you have any friends whose Hominid bodies have died recently, and whose souls have been moved to us.” Us? The Elk woman ignored me. 151 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She typed some more on the terminal and looked through a new list. Using her hand as a pointer under one of the names, the nurse went silent for a moment. “No, she’s out on business.” The next one down the line. “Here’s another one from your university. She died a month ago, and is still in orientation.” Who is she? The Elk woman turned around and gave me a sly look. “We’ll let you figure that out. It’ll help keep you alert.” She turned back to the monitor and concentrated. “Okay,” she said. “She’s patched through to you.” Where is she? “Where is who?” came a different telepathic voice. Who am I talking to? “Her,” telepathically whispered the woman. “Dorothy,” answered the other voice. I tried to remember a Dorothy. I don’t know any Dorothy. “I’m not Dorothy!” came the other voice. “They must be doing that name switching stuff.” 152 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “They like doing it just to confuse us.” The Elk woman interrupted, “We do it for security reasons.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” spoke the other voice. This is Andrea. “Karen? I don’t know any Karen.” I said Andrea, I repeated. “The names are switched,” commented the irked Elk. Oh. How do I know who she is? “Ask her if she is from your university?” she answered. “Why am I talking to you?” asked Dorothy... which wasn’t her real name. My name won’t go through. I gave the woman a questioning look. She smiled by rocking her head slightly backand-forth. “How do I know you? I hate these calls. Hold on, I’m picking some berries.” I went to Caltech. “Really?” some friendly surprise. “When did you graduate?” 1992. “2002? That’s not right. I wouldn’t know you. They must have switched some digits.” “Did you go to Lloyd house?” Yes. 153 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Me too.” My hands gestured in a quirky way... automatically. “Did you recognize that hand gesture?” Huh? How did that happen? “I just moved your hands for you. Do you remember anyone who used to do that with their hands?” No. Why are we guessing? Why can’t we say each other’s names? “It’s a game they play. I hate it. I’m told it’s to teach us to be resourceful.” I gave the Elk woman a mistrusting look. I thought... Do you remember Paul? I was told that I could talk to him. “John? You mean with the glass door?” No, not Jack. Two doors down, with the study sessions. “Yeah, where everyone went and did homework.” You have the right person. “Did you come from Texas?” No. I’m from the east coast. I never spent any time in his room. “Me neither.” 154 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How else can I guess your name? “Forget my name. You’re obviously from Lloyd House if you know about the dial-agender bathroom.” Yeah, but I never lived in that hallway. “Ha! I got the dial-a-gender bathroom through! ” Why was that important? My brain obviously wasn’t working. “Where are you?” I don’t know. I just died. I’m an Elk. “Elk? How can you be an Elk?” I DON’T know. The Elk-woman interrupted, “Your soul was attached to a synthesized Elk body.” That made no sense. “How can you pick anything up as an Elk?” asked the Caltech alum. I haven’t tried. I tried to pick up an invisible object. It works, kind-of. “Really?” “I’m Mrs. Tiddlewaite, from Dormouse Lane.” 155 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What? “Seriously. I’m living in some sort of cottage. I look like one of the mouse characters from that stop-motion kids show.” That statement got me. I didn’t know how to respond. The one with Rupert? And the houses in trees? “Yeah. Except I’m Human sized.” I didn’t know what to say. “So what happened to you?” I just died. I think it was an Earthquake. My nurse broke in. “No, not an Earthquake.” “An earthquake? How big?” Sorry. It wasn’t that. I don’t remember why I died. Wait. I might remember. I went to sleep... and then I woke up an Elk. “That’s not bad.” Pause. “I won’t tell you how I died. I’d rather not.” The conversation should have felt morbid, but it didn’t. Pause.
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November 12, 2011 “How come you get to talk to Paul? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone except my mother, and she’s not very telepathic.” I don’t know. The Elk-woman interrupted, “Maybe we can arrange for you both to talk to him later. He’s still busy.” “How long have you been dead?” I don’t know. A day. It’s only been a few hours. “Really? I’ve been here a month at least.” Pause. “Oh yeah, I spend most of my time wandering around and picking berries. And I have a friend who stops by once a day and helps me learn the ropes.” I couldn’t think of anything to say. Have you talked to anyone else from Caltech? “Yeah, I think so. I think I talked to Sam. She’s a Humanoid cat. But I only talked to her long distance.” “Where are you?” Someplace underground. “Oh, I forgot to mention. She clued me in with the words, scaredy cat.” Who did? “Sam.” I didn’t remember any scaredy cat. No-one at Lloyd House had a cat. 157 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “That [not remembering any cats] helps. She must have graduated before you started.” “Or maybe her cat was dead by then.” Pause. I tried to think of another question. Why are you a dormouse and why am I an Elk? It doesn’t make sense. “Technically, I think I’m a hamster. ” “As it turns out, we’re aliens. And the Hominids are bastards.” I thought the Greys were aliens. “No, I haven’t seen them.” The woman interrupted, “The Greys are around too.” “My friend explained it to me. It all has to do with treaties. The Greys were allowed to land on Earth since they look like they evolved on another planet. A Humanoid Hamster would have caused all sorts of problems with our culture.” That almost made sense. Why wasn’t I reborn as a Grey? At least then I could hop in a UFO and fly back to Earth. Can I fly back to Earth? “No,” answered the woman. “We’re at war with the Hominids right now, and Earth is quarantined. No-one can land.” “Really?” Dorothy had heard. “Do some people become Greys?” 158 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Elk-woman answered, “Only sometimes. Mostly the souls of Hominids on Earth go to other Hominids on other planets, but it is different now for some people.” She added, “Attaching your soul to a Grey body would require some adaptors that we don’t have.” I think I’d rather be a Human. “We tried that,” answered the Elk woman, “but you don’t have any living relatives we can attach your soul to, safely. And we didn’t want you given over to the Hominids.” That didn’t make sense to me. Why were we at war with us? “Dorothy has been disconnected by the way. Our signal was being traced.” “We can discuss the war later.” “I’ll take you to your temporary bedroom.”
SLEEP My bedroom wasn’t much of anything. It was a small concrete nub at the end of a few turns of hallway. A futon mattress was on the ground. A dim light hung on the ceiling overhead. The Elk-woman had led me there, picking up a circular object hanging off the wall just before we entered my room. She handed me the object. It was the first time I had tried to hold anything. My hands were awkward. 159 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “This is a flashlight. Click the black button to turn it on.” “That light,” she pointed up, “will dim as soon as you lie down.” What happens after I get some sleep? “We’ll get you some food, or maybe get you to talk to Paul.” What’s going on with the war? “I won’t talk about that yet. You need to orient yourself first.” “If you need to use the toilet, just walk out the hall and to the right.” “Remember, you have to stand up when using the toilet.” Huh? “I’ll leave you alone. If you need me, just think-speak. I’m permanently connected to you for now.” Permanently connected? That didn’t make sense. “I have a permanent telepathic connection to you.” Oh. I get it. “Lie down.” I was just about to follow her instructions and lie down when I thought to myself, why should I lie down? I could wander around some more.
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November 12, 2011 “Yes, you could, but you’ll feel better after some sleep.” I wondered if I should be cantankerous and resist the suggestion. No, I thought. I’ll go along with it. With some manoeuvring difficulties, I kneeled and lay down. Soon after the woman walked out of my room, I fell asleep.
THE CAFETERIA I didn’t dream. I don’t recall how many hours I slept.
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November 12, 2011 When I did wake up, I felt only somewhat rested. I was still tired, more mentally than physically. Nope, I didn’t awake into a dream-world. I was still a deer... Elk! My room lights were dim. I wasn’t sure what time it was. Bambi like, I struggled to get up on my new feet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bambi) Yesterday... or a few hours ago... I had gotten off a table with the assistance of two nurses, and had gotten out of a chair with the assistance of one of those nurses. Doing this on my own, I sat up, sitting on my futon mattress. I reached my arms behind me and tried to push myself up. This didn’t work at all. My arms couldn’t rotate far enough back to get behind me. I didn’t have enough leverage. Since that didn’t work, I lay down on my back, and rolled onto my stomach. From there I got onto my hands and knees, then a crouch, and I finally stood up. The mushy futon made getting up more difficult. Now what do I do? I looked around. The light had automatically brightened. The futon and sheets were all messed up. Was I really an alien now? I thought aliens had all sorts of technology, not concrete bunkers with dingy futon mattresses. “You might want to get some food,” came the telepathic voice of my nurse. “I’m not your nurse. Call me Haa.” 162 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I looked around for Haa. “I’m not there. I’m busy with someone else.” “You can find the cafeteria to your right, and down the hallway, after you walk out of your room.” Thank you. “You’re welcome.” I began to walk out of my room... awkwardly. “Don’t forget to walk on tip-toes.” Yeah. Thanks. No response came. I felt that I should brush my teeth to get rid of the residue chemical taste. I had no toothbrush though. The cafeteria sounded like good idea; I might have been hungry, but I wasn’t sure. Getting used to my feet again after my nap, I walked out of the twisting hallway leading to my room, and into the main corridor. I turned right. It was a wide hallway, with many small hallways branching off. The hallway felt claustrophobic. Other people, mostly Elk, along with an occasional pet-cougar, were walking up and down the hallway.
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November 12, 2011 I staggered down the hallway, towards the cafeteria. Before going far, I stopped and looked back at my room’s entry-hallway. I tried to memorize the symbol in front of my room’s offshoot corridor. Walking towards the cafeteria, I passed a cougar sitting down. It was typing something into a thin terminal that was lying flat on the ground. Thoughts of Beetlejuice were overtaken by Alice in Wonderland. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_in_Wonderland_(2010_film) ) “Did you see the recent movie, by the way?” asked Haa. The one with the mad hatter? “Yes, that one.” No. I didn’t think I’d like it. “Just keep walking until the main corridor twists to your left. You’ll walk straight into the cafeteria. The food is free.” Did YOU see the movie? “Yes and no. We’ve seen clips of it, and we’ve seen it through the eyes of contactees.” Oh. I could see the hallway turn left several hundred meters ahead. Half-way to the turn I passed another Elk, who was staggering even more slowly than I was. She was naked. Shit! I forgot to put my clothes on. It was like of those stress dreams where you show up to a chemistry lab NAKED. 164 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Don’t worry about clothes. We’ll get you some in a bit,” commented Haa. Before long, I rounded the corner and was soon in the cafeteria. It was a large room with tables of various heights, an odd assortment of orange-coloured chairs, and a food buffet at the end. Some people, Elk mostly, were standing around tall tables. A few were sitting. And some cougars were sitting on the floor, with 20-cm high tables in front of them. I walked to the buffet display. It reminded me more of a high-school cafeteria than the clean corporate cafeteria I had at work. For some reason, I remembered that I had to pay my mortgage in a few days. I felt relieved. I had been underwater on the mortgage anyway. The buffet counter contained a small variety of foods. I pulled out a tray and ceramic-looking plate. With a bit of effort, I grabbed some lettuce leaves... I was an Elk after all. I managed to hold a spoon, scoop up some corn kernels, and dump them onto my lettuce. At the end of the track were some strews... or very thick soups. One showed an icon of a cow above, another had an icon of a bird, and the last had vegetable icons. Suspecting that I was vegetarian, I grabbed some of the vegetable stew... which looked just as unappealing as all the other stews. Eggs would have been tasty. I looked around but didn’t see any. At the end of the track... at least the aliens got the cafeteria flow right... was the cutlery. No sporks here. The cutlery was strange, out of a Sharper Image catalogue. Above each tray of cutlery was an icon of an animal head. I grabbed a copy of every piece of Elk cutlery I could find. 165 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “See that person sitting at the table just to your right. She’s new here too. You might sit at the table and talk to her.” How did Haa know what I was doing? I didn’t get a response. I carried my tray over to the table and sat down. Politely, I telepathed, “My name is Andrea.” The Elk stared comatose. I spoke in squeaky/guttural English, “Ma nang uh Undya.” She looked at me, and her head sagged. I waited for more of a response. Are you okay? She looked at me. “No.” What’s your name? She looked up and down at me. “I don’t want to say.” Alright then. I picked up a piece of lettuce and ate it... not bad. I tried a spoon-like utensil, and had a bite of the corn... very good! And then the stew... Yeah.
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November 12, 2011 The cafeteria food-quality reminded me of college cafeteria-food. You ate sparingly if it was bad, which the stew was, and overate when it was palatable. Maybe it’d be burrito-night tonight, and I’d get something to fill my stomach. I had some more corn and lettuce. Where are you from? I asked my table-partner. She didn’t answer. “Are we in hell?” she asked meekly. The question struck me as odd. How do you answer a question like that? Was she looking for comfort? I hoped not. I didn’t think that I could comfort her at the time. I wasn’t that happy and safe-feeling myself. I ate some more lettuce, then some corn, and then some stew. I don’t know [if we are in hell], I telepathed jokingly. The stew is certainly awful enough. She looked at the stew, but didn’t laugh at my attempted humour. Could Elk laugh? What was I supposed to do? “Where were you from?” she asked. California. “I was from Montana, around Billings.” “Do you know how many years we’re going to be here?” No. I hadn’t thought about that. 167 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “You should,” came a silent thought. And then a quick, “What will the cougars do to us?” And then, “I saw a demon walk by earlier.” Her fear was infectious. I once-again began to wonder if I was in hell. Haa interrupted, “Step away from the loony. You might want to finish your food up and return to your room. I’ll be able to patch you on to Paul in about thirty minutes.” Thank you, I telepathed to Haa. I ate some more of the stew. What should I do? I think we’re in space, I telepathed to the dreary-looking Elk from Montana. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told.” “My cousin used to hunt Elk,” she said, looking at her hand. “Why do I have a hoof?” “Am I an Elk because of something he did?” I didn’t see how a cousin’s hunting habits could affect someone’s reincarnation. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t particularly know why I was an Elk either, but I didn’t think it was some sort of punishment. “Did you commit suicide?” No! I answered.
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November 12, 2011 “I didn’t commit suicide either. I don’t know why I’m here.” Pause. “I should be in heaven.” Pause. “I didn’t expect wings, but I expected heaven at a minimum.” I couldn’t figure out how to console her. I finished my meal, stood up, and backed away. Nice talking to you.
PAUL When I returned to my room... I think it was my room... I lay down on my back as instructed. “Paul usually lies on his back when talking telepathically, so it’s easier if you do the same,” I was told. “I will also patch in Dorothy from Caltech. She knows Paul and hasn’t talked to him yet.” Where is Dorothy? “She’s on another planet several hundred galaxies away.” Galaxies? “Yes.” “I’ve got Paul on the line.” 169 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Wait. That doesn’t make sense,” came the telepathic voice of Paul. I listened some more. “No. Crappy Chinese-food sauce tastes the same as the stuff they put on cat food.” Huh? I thought I was talking to Paul. Pause. “Have I connected to a new conversation?” “I must be.” Are you Paul? “No. I’m Paul.” That didn’t make sense. “Oh, they must be name mangling.” My hands moved to cross on my ribs. I felt a man’s hands touch me, not my own. “Have I talked to you before?” Haa interrupted, “You might want to ask him questions to find out who he really is.” Good point. Did Paul play foosball? Dorothy answered on the conference call, “I don’t think so.” “Did someone else from Caltech die?” asked Paul. Crap. How many people have died? 170 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “A lot. Phil is in Medieval-land.” I didn’t know any Phil. This was a bit of a challenge. Was I intentionally misconnected to the wrong person? Or accidentally? “You weren’t into the medieval stuff, were you?” asked Dorothy. “No, I DIDN’T do it occasionally,” came Paul’s answer. I was confused. Wait. I remembered, names might be mangled. Did you do those Japanese wood fighting sticks? “Yes,” answered Paul. So you’re not Paul. Paul once-again answered “No. I’m Paul”. Okay, it’s just some confusion in the signal. “What’s your name?” asked Dorthy. My index finger tried to point at my rib cage. “Lemming man,” responded Not-Paul. “Wait. Wait. Are you trying to get around the moderators?” Yeah, I thought. “Don’t do that,” continued Paul. 171 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “They change names for security reasons.” Dorothy was quicker than me, “Then how do we know you’re from our college?” “Ask me some questions that only someone from Caltech would know.” I remembered one. What happened with that Spanish prof visiting our dorm for dinner? Dorothy answered too quickly, “I missed that one.” “Him. He got a bit drunk.” More like sozzled. Wait. Who is talking? “I can’t tell. It’s like a text chat-room where people don’t type in names,” answered the person who wasn’t Paul. That didn’t make sense. I could kind-of tell who I was talking to. “Crap, the connection is getting worse.” “Don’t worry, it’s the Hominids behind the curtains. They’re always here.” My arm pointed up and to the left. Hominids behind the curtains? Are you an alien? “No, I’m stuck in LA.” And then the telepathic spam began. Disconnect.
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November 12, 2011
PLAYING WITH THE TERMINAL Half an hour later, Haa showed up... I think it was her. They all looked the same to me. “I brought you some clothes.” I had forgotten about the clothes. Too many other things were on my mind. That wasn’t Paul from Caltech? I asked about the conversation. Haa handed me a short red skirt with attached suspenders. “No, he’s someone else you both know.” I looked at the garment. So how do I know he’s him? And how do I know he’s on Earth? Haa almost smiled.
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November 12, 2011 “You need to figure that out. It’ll give you something to think about.” She tilted her head back and up a bit. I awkwardly put the skirt on. Haa adjusted the suspenders, which criss-crossed my ribs instead of travelling vertically up and down. “I’m going to take you to the terminal room now. You can play around there.” The world “play” was NOT condescending. Like a computer lab? Had didn’t respond to that. “Please follow me.” Haa seemed to be in a better mood that the previous day. We walked into the main corridor, and turned right towards the cafeteria. Part-way down the hall, Haa and I walked left down another wide corridor, and left again into another bunker-room with about fifteen computer terminals on tables of various heights. Chairs were in front of some of them. This room had TWO plastic ficus plants. “You know where you are [relative to your room]?” asked Haa. Yes. “Good. I’ll leave you here. Just spend some time playing on the terminals until you get bored.” Oh. “You don’t need instructions. They’re simple enough to understand.” I didn’t know why I was being left there. 174 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Goodbye. Haa may stop by and say hello later. ” The Elk-woman left me alone. (She wasn’t Haa. Oops.) I looked around, wondering which terminal I should sit at. Another Elk was sitting at a terminal, trying to read from it, and occasionally touching the screen. We all looked the same, didn’t we. I sat at a terminal next to her... hoping she wasn’t the loony I had talked to. “No, I’m fine. I get what’s going on.” “Did you work at Reuters?” No. A company in California. “Did you go to MIT?” No, Caltech. Why was she asking these questions? “Sorry, I’m kind of taking a poll to figure out where we all came from.” “Most of us are from Earth. Half from the US.” She definitely wasn’t the loony hell-worried one. I just got here a day ago. “Oh, so you’re being shown the ropes.” Yeah. I decided to ask, how long have you been here? “Do you want to try something fun?” My Elk friend tried to smile; it didn’t work. “I’ve been here three weeks. I’m waiting to get a UFO out of here.” 175 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 UFO? God damn! I was an alien. I had forgotten. Are all aliens just reincarnated Humans? “No. Most are born on other planets.” “Here, let me show you this.” “Touch your computer to turn it on.” Okay. I turned to face my terminal, which was off. I touched the 2:1 aspect-ratio screen and lots of text appeared. I could almost identify the characters, though they weren’t English. “Here, take my keyboard.” She pushed her keyboard over in front of my terminal. “Press this button.” My friend pressed a button on the screen for me. “And this one.” She pressed another one. I couldn’t follow what she was doing. “Now, wait for the terminal to check your identification.” Do I need a password? “No, it’s built into your implant.” The screen flashed a bit.
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November 12, 2011 Pointing at the upper-right side of the screen, she said, “There. Your name is here. It’s kind of a log-on name like in World of Warcraft.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_of_warcraft) It looked like “Greek” to me. “All you have to do is type in someone’s name who you want to look up.” What do you mean look up? “It’s a giant database. You can look up practically anyone on Earth.” Cool. Who should I type in? “Type in his name,” his was emphasized. “Just use characters close to the English ones.” I began typing, “P”, “A”. “Wait!” She clicked on a small box next to an edit field. “I need to set the focus to the box.” “Type in the name again.” “P” “A” “U” “L” “X” “X” “X” “X” (Name hidden to protect his identity.) “Press this button.” My friend pointed at another button; this time though, she let me touch the screen. A few seconds later the screen layout changed, and some text appeared in chunks... like a web page on a slow internet connection. “You can’t read the text, but you kind-of can. I think its part of your implants.” 177 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I looked a large scrolling text field on the left side of the screen. I couldn’t understand the language, but after staring at the text for a few minutes, I understood the basic concepts. Born in West Virginia... Almost had a girlfriend in High School, but some-name used a bot so she wouldn’t like him. I scrolled down. Arrived in Caltech. Spent his first week in Blacker House, until he was moved. There was a lot more detail here. “Yeah. Most of my friends were only occasionally commented on when they were children, but as soon as they went to university, the text density went way up.” I scrolled down some more. Didn’t do well in math. A comment noted, maybe we should redirect him into computers. Crap, it was like The Truman Show. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Truman_Show) “Not quite. Just lots of people sitting around taking notes on “Earthlings” they are interested in watching.” “I haven’t seen that comment before,” she said pointed to “maybe we should redirect him”. “It’s like our life is planned for us.” Mine wasn’t planned very well. “Neither was mine.”
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November 12, 2011 “Did you ever see that Twilight-zone remake where the woman entered a secret library with encyclopaedias of everyone’s lives?” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazing_Stories_(TV_series)) I tried to recall such a show. No. “Oh well, it’s like that, except the notes aren’t very detailed.” “I tried adding text to one of my friends so someone would contact them, but I didn’t have permission.” “Oh. Here’s a really cool thing.” My friend’s hand/hoof pointed at an Excel-like spreadsheet on the right. She touched it and scrolled two-thirds down. “See that,” she said, pointing at a line of text. It was a line with “0051” written. “His sperm is worth $1500 a sperm.” (Actually, it was $20.)
ORIENTATION After another sleep, Haa telepathically woke me up and suggested I attend an orientation meeting in the cafeteria. I kneeled out of bed.
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November 12, 2011 Heading out into the hallway, I realized that I still had no toothbrush, and that I hadn’t taken a shower. I had seen the showers next to the toilet block, but was too tired to worry about showering. I made my way to the cafeteria. The tables at the centre of the cafeteria were pushed aside. An Elk-woman had set up a monitor on a tall table. A cougar-person was sitting on the ground next to her. Several chairs were arranged in front of the display, where a few Elk-people sat, and some people that looked like walking horses. I wondered if the “freshmen” were put into herbivorous bodies on purpose. As soon as I entered the room, the barely-audible thoughts of “We’re working for hell” and “Indoctrination” crept into my mind. I sat in a chair, as far away from other people as possible. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, particularly not people who thought they were in hell. After a few minutes, the Elk-woman turned on the monitor, and spoke: “For those of you who haven’t attended one of these sessions, I will first briefly explain what is happening.” “All of you except for a few came from Earth Sol.” “As far as you were told, there was no life outside of Earth, but that Anamami might have met with your government in top secret conditions.” “What you weren’t told was that there are trillions of Hominids living on other planets and flying spaceplanes around.” (Actually, “trillions” is an understatement.) “Simply put, they are maniacal, despicable bastards.” The cougar spoke up. “That’s a bit harsh.” The Elk presenter resumed, pressing a button on the terminal keyboard.
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November 12, 2011 “Two weeks ago, the Hominids flung a planetoid into one of our planets, killing two billion people.” She pressed another button on the keyboard, and a video played. It showed a planet, half in the dark. The lit side had an ocean, as well as a continent with a green coast, and dust-beige interior. A small moon, which looked like it had water and vegetation, slowly flew into the centre of the planet. The planet didn’t blow up into a million small rocks like in Star Wars. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars_Episode_IV:_A_New_Hope) It just absorbed the planetoid. A minute later, the far side of the planet bulged out. Then the ripples passed around the surface of the planet, before the planet’s entire atmosphere clouded up. “That was time accelerated, by the way,” said the cougar. One of the hell-people thought, “Propaganda.” The Elk presenter pressed another button. “Here is a video of one of our planets being hit by an asteroid attack.” The planet in the new video was different, this time with snow-capped poles. Four or five large asteroids hurled into the planet, impacting over the course of a minute. Wherever they impacted, a plume of rocks and molten lava was thrown up, and then a large cloud formed, obscuring the impact site. Two minutes later, the clouds merged and obscured the planet’s entire surface. Thoughts of 2012 came to mind.
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November 12, 2011 And Bruce Willis’s silly movie. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armageddon_(1998_film)) “Here’s another bit of news that just came in.” She pressed another button. A series of videos and still images played. They looked exactly like Nazi Germany concentration camps, except they were in colour, and they had walking-animal bodies heaped into trenches instead of those of Jewish people.
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November 12, 2011
Nazi concentration camp http://www.bobpiper.co.uk/Belsen01.jpg
Why didn’t we hear about this on Earth? The Cougar spoke up, “We had some treaties, keeping Earth “undisclosed” and ignorant. But then, this war started up.” And then she added, “If you died a year ago, you would have woken up on their side. As it is, we have an arrangement so souls friendly to us either stay on Earth, go to 183 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 another friendly Hominid planet, or get placed in non-Hominid bodies. People that would prefer to be exclusively Hominid are sent in their direction.” Another freshman spoke up, “We don’t want to be here. How do we get to OUR side?” “We’re working on it Milay,” answered the Elk woman. “Unfortunately, as soon as you’re brought here, their database marks you as ‘contaminated”, and they won’t treat you well.” I wondered if I should ask more questions. I decided not to. I didn’t like the position I was put in, being reincarnated into a body that was at war with some Humans. The Elk woman pressed another button. “By the way, this is one of our responses.” The video showed the night-side of a planet, entirely dark. Several enormous nuclear explosions went off. “Those were ten-gigaton bombs, by the way.”
MY BEETLEJUICE CIVIL-SERVANT JOB The next day, Haa found me in my room, thinking. I don’t like being involved in the war.
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November 12, 2011 “We’re trying to keep you out of it.” How is that? “We have a job for you. Do you want to telepathically talk to some of your friends and family?” I thought that I couldn’t because they weren’t telepathic. “You can and you can’t. Some of them have a bit of telepathy. All you’ll get from them are “thumps”, basically feelings and some simple ideas. For the most part, they won’t be conscious of the communication.” My original question wasn’t answered, but I didn’t notice. “I’ll take you to a different computer lab where you can talk to them.” My mind was sharper than it was when I first “woke up” a few days ago, but it didn’t occur to me to ask more about the war. Haa led me to a different computer lab. It was smaller than the first, but filled with the same types of terminals. One other Elk-person sat there. Haa selected a computer, did some typing, and pressed some buttons on the screen. She motioned for me to sit down, which I did. “On the screen,” she pointed, “you’ll find a list of a few of your friends and family. To the right of their name is the approximate Earth-time that they live in, so you can guess what they’re doing.” I saw four entries. Looking at the screen, I could make out the names, “Ben XXXX”, “John XXXX”, “Mary XXXX”, and “Wendy XXXX” written in a non-English font, which was close enough that English-looking characters were used. “Who do you want to talk to?” “Remember, you can’t talk. It’s more like thinking about impressions.” 185 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How about Mary? “Okay. Just press her name.” I touched Mary’s name on the screen. The screen flashed and changed to a display, showing Mary’s most-recent text log, as well as some statistics, and a few buttons. “When you’re done talking with Mary, remember to press the “down arrow” over here.” Haa pointed to the icon. “What would Mary be doing at 5:32 PM?” Making dinner, I think. “Think about the question, “Are you making dinner?”” Are you making dinner? I felt, but didn’t telepathically hear, “Yes”. What else can I ask? “She has two children. Think a question about how her children are doing.” How is Sam? “Worry” was expressed. Does she know I’m asking these questions? “No. It’s subconscious for the most part. You can’t get too much information from them.” “You can spend today talking to your friends.” “Tomorrow, you can try talking to some other people like this. We want to know if they’re alright.” 186 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Why? “The Hominids are attacking a lot of people with venom bots. If they aren’t doing well, we want to know so we can send a medical-bot to check them out and see if they have been attacked.” What does that mean? “Venom bots are small, invisible bots that fly into people’s houses and kill their brains off with chemicals, or give them heart attacks, or destroy their livers. They use them to invisibly kill off hundreds of thousands of people a year.” (Actually, a million plus.) Why do they do that? “Why did they kill you with venom bots over the last nine months?” They killed me with venom bots? “Yes. They must have decided they didn’t like you. Perhaps you had some thoughts they didn’t like.” I don’t think so. Who are THEY? “The Hominids that control your planet.” “Did you ever think about UFOs?” No. “What political party did you align yourself with?” Democrats. “Oh well. Sometimes they just decide to not like you.” Haa was very good at pushing the conversation along. 187 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Try talking to your friends. I’ll be connected to you in case you have any questions.” What is wrong with Sam? I thought to Mary. “Depressed,” came a thump. “Just do this as long as you like. I’ll take off and do some other work. Goodbye.” Haa left the room. What else should I ask? Are you going on a vacation soon? No response. What are you eating tonight? A thump returned “spaghetti”. I didn’t really want to ask Mary anything. I didn’t talk to her much when I was on Earth, so there was no point doing so from another planet. Weird concept. I pressed the “hang up” button and looked through the list. I clicked on “John”. He was my manager at work, and a nice guy. The screen changed to indicate that the call went through. How are you John? “Fine. I’m stuck in traffic.” This telepathic sentence was stronger than Mary’s thump, but not nearly as clear as talking to Elk-people in the bunker. Cool. “What’s happening here?” thought John. 188 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What is your phone number? “Eight three nine...” which was correct. Are there any restaurants on the way home? A loud thump, “Fast food.” That sounded good. How about Wendy’s? “Sounds good. I can take the next exit,” thought John. Cool. And then an idea struck me... I’m not dead. “That’s weird,” was John’s thump response. Pause. “It’s like Ghost Whisperer,” he thought. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost_Whisperer) This is Andrea. Tell my mother that I’m okay. I’m an alien now. “Huh?” I had an idea. Alpha, November, Delta, Romeo, Echo, Alpha. There was a pause while I felt John think. “A. N. D. R. E. A. Andrea? Crap. This is weird.” Shit, it worked! India, Mike, Oscar, Kilo. 189 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “This is weird. Imko? No. I’m OK.” I felt John’s eyes widen. “I have a turnoff coming up.” India, Mike, Alpha, Lima, India, Echo, November. “I’m A. L. I. E. N. I’m Alien?” “No. That doesn’t make sense.” John turned off to Wendy’s. “What the hell? That’s weird.” Just tell my mother I’m okay, and the people at work too. I could tell that John was thinking: “(a) Andrea spoke to me from the dead, (b) She spoke using military text messaging, and worst of all, (c) She is now an alien.” John turned left. “That’s not gonna work. I can never tell anyone this story, unless I’m drunk.”
I JUST WANT TO TALK “I have patched Paul through,” said Haa telepathically. “By now you know that he’s not Paul though.” My hands rested on my ribcage once again. They felt like a man’s hands. “Someone just connected,” commented he-who-was-not-Paul. 190 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Yeah. “How are you doing?” It’s difficult getting used to here. “You don’t seem to be happy.” No. I thought about what Haa had said to me. Not-Paul’s concentration shifted, and became suspicious at my thought. “I’m not a mentor, or at least not a very good mentor.” He read my mind enough to know that I was told off. I got in trouble. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to be a mentor.” Okay, but I tried to contact someone I knew. And I got some information through. Exasperation on the part of Not-Paul. “You shouldn’t try to get past the censors.” “You do,” interrupted someone else. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t try to.” Pause. “Well, yes, unless someone it making it obvious to me that it’s a game.” Telepathically turning towards me, Not-Paul said, “The censorship is for security purposes.” 191 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But I just wanted to get in contact with my mother. “Did it work?” I don’t know. I tried to tell John about my death. (Blocked) Can you Facebook someone for me? “Whenever I’ve been asked to Facebook someone it usually turns out that they’re already dead.” But can you Facebook someone for me? “I can’t because I don’t really know who you are. I think I know who you are, but you might be three other people.” “And I don’t want to cause trouble. I usually only Facebook people when I’m requested to.” What do you send them? “I wrote up a disclosure document.” “And I wrote some short stories [about disclosure].” Someone else added, “Two conniving horny racoons in a canoe has worked well.” What’s that one? “It’s a story about Racoon-evolved people.” That wouldn’t work for the people I know. They’re not furries. How can I tell people that I’m not dead? Dorothy joined in, “You could E-mail everyone at Caltech.”
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November 12, 2011 “It doesn’t work,” commented Not-Paul. “They don’t respond. I already tried. They may be telepathically blocked so they’re not interested.” Could you try again? “I’ll think about it. I need to see what other people say.” Pause. Sadness on the part of Not-Paul. “I wish I were in college.” I didn’t understand. “I feel like I’m in high school. Worse, I feel like I’m forced to retake the last year of high school.” Not-Paul had changed conversation directions too quickly. “I tried to get a UFO ride off the planet a year ago. But I couldn’t, because The Great Hominid Empire prevented it.” “I’m jealous that you made it to college, and I’m stuck in high school.” A metaphor! I understood. I’d rather be on Earth right now. I was happy there. “I understand your point of view. I’d rather be where you are.” It’s ironic. “Not really ironic... but I don’t know the word.” I didn’t know what to say. “It’s weird. I’m being asked to help you understand what’s happening off planet.”
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November 12, 2011 “It’s like me giving a freshman-orientation talk when I have never attended university.” “The only “university” experience I have is that I’ve spent the last year telepathically talking to people.” I thought about this. “In a week, you’ll know more than I do. When I get into space, you’ll have to show me the ropes. ” That sounded wrong to me. I didn’t think I’d ever get the hang of this place. “So, how have your first few days of college been? What did you do?” “I’d really like to know.”
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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DEATHS AT AZCRUK by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
WARNING: This story is emotionally disturbing, at least for me as an author. In my humble opinion, while it is not as well written as Shirley Jackson’s, “The Lottery”, it is MUCH more macabre. The story is also sexually explicit. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Jackson, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery)
“MYEH”- SYNDROME To celebrate my “high-school” graduation, my older half-sister and I picked-up a guy to share for the night. Cheetahs don’t pick-up guys at bars, or in hiking groups. There aren’t enough males in our society to comeacross an acceptable male by chance. Only one in fifty individuals is male, partially because we are malezygote infertile. The Hominid infertility-bots, and antifertility foods that occasionally sneak through our borders, don’t help. We aren’t affected nearly as badly as Cat-evolved people by Hominid chemicals, though. And practically-speaking, being a Cheetah-man has problems. Males are less-intelligent than females due to millions of years of war, where killingoff less-common males is more-strategic than killing-off very-common females. After 195 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 every war, we have to rebuild our male DNA from low-intelligence “primitive” males that weren’t involved in the war, mostly because they were 60-IQ individuals running around naked, trying to kill springboks with blunt arrows. And if you’re one-in-fifty, you don’t have many same-sex piers to socialize with... and the opposite gender thinks of you as sex-meat. So many men swap to women’s bodies after a few years of adulthood, for free. Women that want a new body, unless they wish to become men, need to pay about $20,000 – the price of a small car. Cheetah women pick-up guys in the internet. Every city has at-least half-a-dozen interactive databases, accessible from home. They show a 360-degree rotation of the male, his school permanent records, median skill-and-personality ratings of the women that have gone for him, and median ratings of his “performance”. As I said, males are treated as sex-meat. In my city, there were eleven companies from which to pick-up guys. They all had their own referral-system, working like Amazon.com’s book referrals. The systems collect your ratings of previous guys you have used, and match those ratings against other women’s rating-sets. A list of women with similar-preferences to yours is generated, but not shown. A collection of possible male-names is assembled from the other women’s ratings, along with estimates about how-well you might ratethem. The system identifies which males are currently available, and sorts them into a “Recommended for you!” list. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazon.com) Except for three expensive companies, men are first-come, first-serve. (They also have access to your ratings, by the way. They can refuse to go out with you.) There are no guarantees that the men you have chosen will be there when you show up at the company’s “store”. Consequently, the referral-system has E-mail notification. It waits until three or four acceptable men are all working on the same night, and then E-mails you. Your chance of getting one of them is greatly improved. All of the “stores” allow two or three women to go-in-together at-a-time. Their computer-matching system makes-sure that at least two women have a “Topchoice male, and the third won’t be disappointed either.” 196 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For one of my graduation gifts, my older half-sister and I went-in together. She paid. I paid for the taxi-ride there, and to a second “store”, and then back to our apartment. I’ll censor the rest. Mothers, while having done the same thing when they were young, never condone of such activity “unless you wish to get pregnant.” Normally, it is best to hide such adventures from your mother. Regretfully, my sister and I didn’t have a mother that we could sneak “the deed” past. My mother died when I was in junior-high. Her spaceplane was shot-down by Hominids while she fought as a fighter-pilot in our marines. She never came back. And I was quite dense, but I’ll tell you about that later... My relatives took care of my household finances and shopping for a few months. They then found a distant and unknown-to-me older half-sister to move-in and take care of me. The fact that I had distant-and-unknown half-sisters didn’t surprise me. Cheetahs don’t remember individuals that well. Unless I had met someone fifty times, I wouldn’t remember what they looked like, smelled like, who they were, or even what their name was. My newly-discovered half-sister and I got-along exceptionally well, despite the age difference. She attended high-school while I was in junior-high. I just-missed walking to school with her every morning; the same year I escaped from junior-high, she graduated from high-school and went-on to study physics at university. In junior-high, I’d arrive home at 2:00 PM. She would show up at 5:00 PM with takeaway-food, or we’d walk down to a bistro together. There, we would sit and watch people walk-past, until sunset... Cheetahs are mesmerized by “watching”. Of course, bistro-sitting was only allowed on the nights when I had no homework... or if I managed to finish my homework before dinner-time. “We can’t sit in the cafe all evening [and watch people pass-by]. You have to do your homework,” my half-sister would say, mother-like. By high-school, I was mature-enough to manage my own homework schedule. My sister’s university-classes ended at the same time as my high-school classes. After 197 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 school, we would bypass home, and meet in a bistro or non-alcoholic bar. Bar-sitting was different than cafe-sitting. Bars were indoors and stayed open later. The entertainment was short films, cabaret-style acts, country-western rock-bands, and watching all of the patrons watch all-of-the-patrons. We would typically eat a meal of elk shish-kebobs, followed by an “appetizer” of breadsticks dipped in barbeque sauce, with two-or-three mango drinks or mango lassis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lassi) On weekends, we’d wander the store-strip, to see who else was wandering the storestrip. We never actually knew nor cared who the people were. Seeing an anonymous Cheetah with a particularly-nice black-bead necklace and red high-heeled shoes was enough. During-and-after Cheetah watching, we would sit in street-cafe chairs with accompanying mini-table. And in-between that, we’d go shopping... for particularlynice black-bead necklaces and purple high-heeled shoes. I didn’t limit myself to just purple; I also wore other varieties of high-heeled shoes, including red. I was very-good friends with my half-sister. After our graduation-gift tryst with a male, my half-sister, acting as my mother, got down to harassing me about what I wanted to do after high-school. I had graduated from “high-school” a few months before, at age twenty. I performed well-enough, about the 60% mark. At that point, my sister’s “What will your career be?”-nags really dug into me. I still had a few months before I had to decide on a career. I planned either to enter university, or to learn a trade on-the-job. Joining the (space) marines like my mother did, was out. I never was one to follow orders, or instructions. My mother’s combat-death, and the thought of following her shadow into the military, was foreboding. I imagined that I’d be standing in the military registration-hall, thinking to myself, “This is what my mother did,” followed by a spark of sadness. And then a few months later, I’d enter “boot camp” – a flightsimulator video-arcade with attached dorms – thinking, “This is what my mother did,” with even more sadness. And then everyday thereafter, I’d think, “This is what my mother did,” and the depression would grow. As far as university... myeh. 198 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I could have gone on to business-school... myeh. Mathematics... No way! Engineering ... myeh. Physics ... No. Social-work... less-
myeh.
Writing and journalism ... maybe. Overall... myeh. Acting motherly, which my half-sister occasionally succumbed to, she brought-home several post-high-school work-study-volunteer pamphlets. They included camping holidays on remote planets. A “painting tour” where I would travel to half-a-dozen planets and paint landscapes. A work-study home-construction trip. And a “workholiday” at one of the military branches. All of the programs lasted half-a-year or a full-year. They were inexpensive, only $2000; the painting-tour may have been $4000.
Myeh, and NO to the military work-holidays. I settled on a work-volunteer program that was interesting to me; it combined socialwork with a potential entryway into exotic journalism. Two months later, I packed-up a few crates of clothing... mostly shoes... and a few books. I boarded a spaceplane to a planet-equivalent to one of your small African villages.
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November 12, 2011 And as for the “I was quite dense” remark earlier: My half-sister was my mother. I just found that out, recently. When her body died in a spaceplane “accident”, she decided to give-up on the military, and try-out high-school again. The bastard (my mother) thought it would be fun to play the role of my older sister. And it was fun, for both her and me.
WORK-STUDY-VOLUNTEER WITH “PRIMITIVE” CHEETAHS My final spaceplane on the journey to my work-volunteer program was a small triangle-craft. It looked like it had been shot-down a few too-many times. The seats were coffee-stained hessian, with claw-torn carpet underneath. The meal was a cold rectangle of curried beef... accompanied by an orange-flavoured drink similar to Tang. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tang_(drink) ) We landed on the tarmac, and disembarked. There were no enclosed boarding ramps. I dragged my travelling chests underneath a ratty steel-awning, and sheltered from the drizzle for a few hours. When the bus/minivan/4WD combo arrived, all I noticed was its amazingly-large tires. Cheetahs are city-dwellers. The Simian-driven 4WD drove six of us off the tarmac, and through a large town. When the town ended, so did the road. It turned into a gravelly muddy track, with copious potholes, creek-crossings, and dodgy bridges. Sitting in a 4WD on an off-road trip is bumpy and painful-enough for people who don’t have tails. Cheetahs can sit on their tails, but not for four hours of bumps. Thirty minutes into the trip, I tried sitting with one leg folded underneath me, but the bumps began to eat at my hip and knee. Standing didn’t work. It was too-painful for the back of my head, and neck. The base of my tail was swollen for days afterwards, hurting whenever it wagged. We’d drive through a small village every half hour. The village-centres consisted of a handful of brick buildings, and a dozen wood-built village-houses. The houses were 200 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 built by Hominids a hundred years before, but sold to us about fifty years ago. They were simple one-and-two story boxes with a front porch, similar to the AmericanFoursquare style. I saw many Syn-Cheetahs walking on the sidewalks as we passed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Foursquare) Between the village centres were 5-25 hectare lots, each with their own farm-house, perhaps a barn, and a wooden fence. Dairy-cattle and goats grazed in the paddocks. We travelled through a half-a-dozen villages on the way, eventually stopping at my assigned village. Its central business-district had a few brick shops, a dozen 100-yearold Hominid houses, and a more-recently-built two-story apartment complex. My apartment was on the top floor, at the end of the row. It was located directly over my boss’ apartment, who came out to greet me as I bump-banged my crates up the stairs. The keys for the apartment were in the door. Being an urban cafe-sitting Cheetah, I found my surrounds distinctly-and-completely rural, and un-Cheetah-like hickish. It was only for a year. I could manage.
WORK-STUDY-VOLUNTEER WITH “PRIMITIVE” CHEETAHS The planet, where I would spend the next year, was a shared-but-divided multiracial planet. The section I had been driven through was ours, where we raised our “young”. Most of the Cheetahs where “Syn” Cheetahs, named after the planet where they were found. To us, they looked more animal-like. They were more reddish than us, had a slightly-musty odour, hunched hackles, and they didn’t walk erect. Their personality was different from ours; they didn’t mind living in the boondocks, and they could almost stomach raising dairy cattle, beef cattle, and small livestock like goats. Chickens didn’t work; they always intentionally left the chicken-coop door open so that the chickens would disappear. Their median IQ was about 80. 201 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 With some genetic modifications, we could raise their IQs to 120. That problem was known and solvable, mostly a matter of having their brains synthesize chemicals to produce more white-matter. This would make them more-intelligent, but also “twitchier” – more-likely to go psychotic and/or insane. Adding the chemicals was like accelerating a bicycle from 20-kmph to 100-kmph. Personality flaws, mental illnesses, and neurological autoimmune-diseases not visible at 20-kmph, became lifethreatening at 100-kmph. One personality flaw common to all Cheetahs, especially “primitive” Cheetahs like the Syn-Cheetahs, was “myeh” syndrome. As teenagers, our favourite phrase is, “Myeh”, which means, “I don’t care,” combined with “Leave it until tomorrow,” combined with “I’m bored, so I’ll find something else to entertain myself.” Adult Syn-Cheetahs, especially those below 90-IQ, were completely “myeh”, almost all of the time. This meant that the Syn-Cheetah sub-race hadn’t “baked” enough. They were distinctly unemployable, and would never “function” as part of a technological society. They would certainly survive in a world of automobiles, computers, and televisions, but due to adult “myeh” syndrome, they would never work a day in their lives. For example... More-responsible Syn-Cheetahs were given jobs at the local general store, which sold groceries, pillows, some underwear, a couple shapes of screwdrivers, and other stuff. I once stopped by the store for food, to find it empty of any staff, usually a lone SynCheetah who was supposed to take the money and stock the shelves. She most-likely decided to take a few hours off-work, and wander-up to the local stream, and have a lie-down. The store was left unlocked and unattended. Syn-Cheetahs who visited the unattended store wouldn’t steal anything. They would pick-up the goods they needed, stand by the counter for five minutes, waiting for the missing cashier to step out of the backroom, and then realize that the Syn-Cheetah 202 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 cashier must have gone on walkabout. Obviously, customers weren’t allowed to access the till themselves, since that would invite theft. Like any good citizen, the Syn-Cheetah customer would remember what items they had in hand, and leave without paying for them. They would pay tomorrow or the next day. Despite their intention to pay for the goods the next time they were in the store, the Syn-Cheetah would inevitably forget to pay, merely because Cheetahs are absentminded in odd ways. Another example of adult “ myeh” syndrome... If we boosted the median IQs of Syn-Cheetahs to 120, they might-perhaps decide to work. Such work would be erratic and eccentric. They might decide to paint all of the brick buildings in town a bright pink. Getting bored after painting 11.26% of the buildings’ surfaces, they would leave the other 88.74% natural. What excited us about the Syn-Cheetahs was that at 90-IQ, they could mentallyendure raising dairy-cattle and goats. They could wake themselves up at sunrise, milk the cattle, let them into the paddocks, and clean their stalls. Then the women would revert to pure somewhat-hickish Cheetahs for the day. In the evening, they would remember to fill their barn’s feed-troughs with daisy-grass and grains, and heard the cattle back into their barn for the night. That was two hours of work a day. A Syn-Cheetah with 100-IQ might be able to manage ten cows, three hours of work. And maintain a tractor. A civilized-Cheetah with a 120-IQ can endure six hours of work a day. We won’t go near a farmhouse, let-alone a rural village, or anywhere where high-heeled shoes are inappropriate. We are perfectly-happy with desk-jobs though. The civilized-Cheetahs in my team were tasked with “maturing” the “primitive” SynCheetahs, ultimately allowing the Syn-Cheetahs’ median IQ to be safely raised from 80 to 120. Imagine what sane 120-IQ Syn-Cheetahs could do for our society. Eightycows per 120-IQ Syn-Cheetah, including full farm-equipment. With 120-IQ SynCheetahs, our society might actually be able to raise its own food.
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November 12, 2011 To better-understand the societal craving, imagine what kind of mobile-phones (and televisions) sane Earth-Sol “geeks” could create for you if they had 180-IQs instead of 140-IQs. Not only would the gadgets be ultra-thin and ultra-small (or ultra-large), mere-mortals would be able to use them. Insane Earth-Sol “geeks” create mobilephones (and televisions) with features that only 11.26% of the population can figureout. My job was to monitor the Syn-Cheetahs as individuals, and note which ones seemed most-capable, and most-willing to work reliably. I was specifically instructed to NOT penalize the individuals for myeh -syndrome. Millions of years of experience “maturing” “primitive” Cheetahs has shown that you cannot get rid of myeh -syndrome; you can only divert it. All attempts to eradicate
myeh –syndrome have led to chronic depression in myeh-free cheetahs. My observations would be entered into our stud-book. Top-performing Syn-Cheetahs would be artificially inseminated with sperm from Cheetah males from elsewhere, often from civilized-Cheetah males. There were no male Syn-Cheetahs left, that we could find on any of the Syn-Cheetah planets; they may have combed-and-primped their manes into self-extinction. When a few months old, the embryos would be extradimensionally removed from the top-performing Syn-Cheetahs, and transplanted to under-performing Syn-Cheetahs. The underperforming Syn-Cheetahs would raise the embryos to term, give birth, and raise the children until they were teenagers. Despite adult myeh -syndrome, Syn-Cheetahs had no problems raising children. We once thought about painting all of the dairy cattle yellow-gold with black spots. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breed_registry) To help me observe Syn-Cheetah individuals, I was employed to interact with them. My must-do job was to run the social-room, which had some armchairs, a ping-pong table, and a large television. Nearly every night, I would provide a buffet meal, and some sort of social activity.
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November 12, 2011 Ping-pong nights didn’t work; Syn-Cheetahs like playing ping-pong during the day. Not at night. And they don’t like watching others play ping-pong. Myeh-syndrome Syn-Cheetahs wander-off even before they have eaten the free food. Movie nights worked better, especially Hominid special-effects movies, like Star Wars. Most Syn-Cheetahs would wander-off after eating and watching half-an-hour of the movie. Some would last an hour. I would shut-off the video-player as soon as everyone left. I never saw the end of any of the Star Wars movies. I didn’t know that the orange-clothing guy managed to blow up the Death Star. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_wars, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_star) Once-a-week Cheetah-karaoke to Beatles music kept most Cheetahs interested for an hour, and some stayed for the full two hours. Many would even spend the morning practicing lewd dance-moves to their favourite songs, even learning English so they could understand the meaning of the lyrics. “Yellow submarine” was sexuallysuggestive to Syn-Cheetahs, especially with accompanying dance-moves. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatles, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_Submarine_(song) ) My job also included limited financial-management duties in the general store, such as counting the cash and ordering supplies. I was also supposed to check-up on the local farms, to make sure the cows were still alive, that the houses weren’t trashed, and that the appliances and equipment mostly-worked. Myeh. I never bothered. And, of course, I’d walk the village-streets, and chat with any Syn-Cheetahs I came across. I found the work-volunteer position to be enjoyable and interesting. The job wasn’t all-enjoyable though... Many Syn-Cheetahs would walk north a few kilometres to a picturesque shadystream, where they would lie-about in the grass, and watch the trees sway, as well as 205 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the birds flit between the trees. I only walked to the creek once, to check on my SynCheetahs... Too-much nature. No shops either. Syn-Cheetahs would nightly gather in the parking-lot behind the general-store to inject low-narcotic stims. I often had to round some of them up for an evening shishkebob dinner and activity. I was loath to see them destroying themselves that way. And then there were the Hominid military-men...
HOMINID MILITARY Many of the Syn-Cheetahs would just disappear for the afternoon, or for days at a time. Or they would disappear forever. The Syn-Cheetahs would walk a few-kilometres north to the creek, where they would be picked-up by a Simian-driven taxi-van. The van would free-ride them to the Hominid military-base, half an hour away. The base had been licensed to the Hominids for multiracial purposes, which their legal-department interpreted as “military”. My spaceplane had to land four-hours drive away from the village because of the Hominid military-claims to the airspace around their base. The Hominid-men there looked like the male-lead in the movie, Avatar. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_(2009_film) ) We spent many hours puzzling-out what the Syn-Cheetahs did there; Cheetahs don’t divulge much information, especially when asked questions. As the Syn-Cheetahs told it, the Hominid men were “interesting”. The woman didn’t claim or admit to having sexual relationships with the Hominid men. Nor did we believe that the Syn-Cheetahs engaged in sex with the men, which wouldn’t have mattered, except for sociological studies. 206 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They must have gotten drugs from them. And food. As far as we could tell, the Syn-Cheetahs merely sat around the men’s houses, and perhaps talked to the men. The women admitted to learning the local Hominid language and listening to Hominid music. They would act, to-an-extent, like verylarge house cats, always watching, sometimes interacting, coming-and-going when they wanted. We didn’t particularly object to that either. The problem was that over the last few years, more-and-more Syn-Cheetahs disappeared from their villages. At first, we thought that they had wandered to nearby villages, or caught a bus to more-distant villages. As we grew more concerned, we kept better records. The Syn-Cheetahs weren’t relocating to other villages. The most-likely scenario was that they were being flown-off the planet by the Hominids. Cheetah-staff drove to the Hominid base to investigate. The Hominid men became very cagey, and wouldn’t let us enter the military complex “for security reasons”. Syn-Cheetahs were allowed into the military-base without any apparent concern. We suspected, and now know, that Syn-Cheetahs were lured-off the planet, into slavery, as both an act of capitalism, and as racial vandalism.
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ROUNDED-UP AND ENSLAVED Three months into my work-volunteer project with the Syn-Cheetahs, two large Hominid armoured-vehicles drove into the village. They weren’t supposed to ever drive into our village. The vehicles looked like grey-painted armoured bank cashdelivery trucks. I was standing at the crossroads in town. I had just been to the supermarket to purchase small-goods for the night’s television dinner. My boss was with me. The trucks stopped in front of us. The back-doors opened. Several Hominid-men jumped out. They were wearing navy-blue ablative-armour, helmets, and held truncheons, and most-likely guns. The two of us glared at the men. This was our territory. They were uninvited males... and they were Hominids that were breaking legal agreements. The men approached us. “Get in [the armoured truck],” the men said in their language. Our translatorimplants worked. “On what grounds?” asked-demanded my boss. “Medical tests.” The Hominid military-men weren’t allowed to give us medical tests, and they mostcertainly weren’t allowed to force medical-tests on us. They were liars. We were being detained, most-likely for political reasons. We saw a distant civilized-Cheetah watch the scene, and disappear someplace safe. She would report the incident, and someone would get us out.
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November 12, 2011 Carrying our groceries, both my boss and I climbed into the armoured vehicle’s sealed back-box. A few Syn-Cheetahs were inside, being myeh about the abduction. Cheetah-like, they went-along with reality to see where it took them. Cheetahs tend to accept reality as it is. When reality takes us in interesting directions, we don’t fight reality. Sometimes it’s more-interesting to let reality drive, and see where it takes you, than to try and steer reality in a direction you think you will prefer. Conversely, Hominids will scream bloody-murder whenever reality diverges from their expectation of ordinary existence. We were driven through the village farms for another ten minutes. Two-more SynCheetahs were detained, without much protest. All of us were closed in the back, and then driven north to the base on the unsealed road. Three-quarters of an hour later, the doors opened, and we were led into a small onestory wood building, were we were seated. No medical examination was forthcoming. We were glad for that. After two hours of sitting, we were led onto a shuttle-spaceplane, and seated. Our hands were twist-tied in front of us. We concluded that we had been arrested by the Hominids for political reasons, and were about to be transported to their planet. We watched reality take us for a ride. The shuttle took-off materialized, shifted extradimensionally, and then found a hyperspace entryway. We travelled through the topologically-complex space for perhaps an hour. The shuttle emerged from hyperspace, and entered material space just-above an enormous airport tarmac, perhaps ten-kilometres to a side. The number-and-size of Hominid commercial and military spaceplanes was staggering. We landed. The doors opened. 209 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A pair of Syn-Cheetahs was escorted-off the shuttle, and then disappeared. My boss and I were next. We were directed to an empty van, driven several kilometres, and loaded onto another shuttle. The situation had become more-interesting. We had expected to be thrown into detention at the nearest planet. Instead, we were going to be transferred to a second planet. The passengers in our new spaceplane-shuttle were Canine-evolved and Goat-evolved.
AZCRUK Our second shuttle-flight was shorter. The airport where we landed was small and provincial. A goat-evolved woman and I were led-off the spaceplane first. A Hominid manwoman with a clipboard directed us into a nearby airport-shuttle van, similar to airport shuttles on Earth-Sol. A Malamute-evolved woman, a Fox-evolved woman, and an Antelope-evolved women were aboard. We sat on cushioned aisle-benches, built against the left-and-right walls of the van. During the ride, our heads repeatedly inertia-bumped into the windows behind. The van’s doors closed, and it slowly accelerated up to speed. I was beginning to worry. I had been separated from my fellow Cheetah, and was now alone. This didn’t fit with the typical Hominid “we will arrest and detain you for awhile” scenario that I had heard about.
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November 12, 2011 We were driven-off the airport tarmac, and through a small city with multi-story brick and/or concrete buildings. Cincinnati Ohio would look similar. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cincinnati) Ten minutes later, the buildings gave way to suburbs with Colonial-revival and ranchstyle houses. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colonial_Revival_architecture, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranch-style_house) The suburbs lasted for twenty-minutes, and then we were in semiarid eucalypt farmland. We soon turned-off the sealed road, and onto an unsealed road, which eventually turned into an unsealed track. My original hypothesis was political detention, and perhaps a sham trial. Most-likely, the detention-cells and/or courthouse wouldn’t be this far outside the city-centre. Was there any way I could escape from the situation? My wrists were bound with twist-ties. I was in a locked moving van. And on a Hominid planet. Not likely. After an hour-and-a-half ride total, the van stopped in front of a lone house. The house was set twenty-meters back, and surrounded by a quarter of a hectare of mowed-dried grass. The Malamute-woman was escorted off the airport shuttle-bus, and then heldstanding in front of the house. “Honk. Honk,” went the shuttle-bus’s horn. A man ambled out of the house, and talked with the guard who held onto the Malamute-woman. The man had brought-along stainless-steel handcuffs, which he placed around the woman’s wrists. Her redundant twist-ties were cut, and she was led into the house. 211 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Slavery.
CLOSET MAID The airport shuttle-bus drove a kilometre down the road. This time, I was led off. I was stood in front of a two-story box-house with a gabled roof, and a front porch. The parched lawn was enclosed by a white picket-fence. A ranch-style house was behind me, directly across the road. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Foursquare) The driver didn’t have-to beep his horn. An obese battle-axe of-a-woman shambled out of house, down her aging concrete sidewalk, and through the swinging gate of the short-white picket-fence. Something was in her hand. I was stood about ten meters away. The driver stood by me, while the guard walked up to the woman and spoke to her. I couldn’t understand their language. My telepathy language-translators must-have been blocked. After her brief chat with the guard, the woman looked at me gleefully. The driver held me in position so I was facing the woman’s house. The obese woman and guard walked in a wide arc around me, and then behind me, out of view. I heard the two walk-up to just-behind me. I could acoustically-tell that the guard and the woman were a head shorter than me. 212 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Something was placed around my neck, and then clasped on. I couldn’t see what it was. Someone played with my skirt-buckles, and then dropped my skirt to the ground. They couldn’t completely take it off me though, without my stepping forward. Cheetahs don’t wear underwear. I was naked. This was all part of the humiliation. The woman walked-around into view, holding onto a black leash. The collar they had placed around my neck swivelled with the leash. She was “frabjous”. (Redefined from Jabberwocky, to mean a combination of gloating and happy. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jabberwocky) With a pair of wire-cutters, the guard cut the twist-ties that bound my hands in front of me. I lowered my hands to my side. Dignity. Yeah, well, it was worth an attempt. Some footfalls came from across the road, behind me. They stopped to my rear-left, admiring me as a new possession of their neighbour. A husband and wife approached the frabjous woman, walking into view. Some greetings and comments passed. I didn’t understand them. Enslaved. I decided to see where life took me.
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November 12, 2011 The driver spoke, the woman replied, and then both the driver and guard got into the airport shuttle-bus. It started-up, and drove down the road. The three remaining non-Hominid people in the van would be anticipating their enslavement-stops. After the shuttle-bus had departed, I was collar-led through the woman’s whitepicket-fence gate. The frabjous woman was stocky, obese, had dark curly-hair, and wore a blue floral dress. Her male neighbour was a thin, balding man. His wife was slightly less-obese, with sandy-brown hair. The neighbours were curious about me, as a new-andexpected arrival, but not frabjous. I was led up the front-porch steps, and into a combination living-room and study. It contained an old Persian-like carpet, some embroidered furniture, a radio, a coffeetable, and a desk with a computer-terminal on it. Now what? I followed-along for the ride, merely observing. I was collar-led into the kitchen through a doorway in the living-room. The neighbour-woman spotted a loaded knife-block and an exposed knife on the kitchen counter. She grabbed the knife-block and knife, and placed them out of view. The neighbour-woman mentioned something to the obese battle-axe, who said “Da blah blah blah” in approval. My leash was handed to the neighbour-husband, who held it, not knowing what to do with it. The gloating battle-woman walked all-around my front, surveying me to make sure that I was as advertised, and that I had no on-arrival dings or scratches. She would have walked the full 360-degree visual-survey, but my back was close-enough to the refrigerator that she couldn’t squeeze behind. I stood erect, and stared forward.
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November 12, 2011 “Blah blah blah,” they spoke to one-another. The obese-woman located a dirty dishrag on her kitchen counter. She held in front of me, at stomach height. Was she handing it to me? I slowly took hold of the rag. It was dry. And it reeked of perfume, and of must. My audience watched in anticipation. What did they expect me to do with the rag? Obviously, I was to clean something. I was the woman’s new kitchen appliance. She had just unpacked me. Passing me the dish rag was equivalent to plugging me in, and pressing the “Go” button. I was supposed to show the obese-woman that I worked properly, or I would be returned to the store as a defect. And I was also supposed to show myself off to the neighbours. Perhaps I should have acted broken-like. I walked forward. The gloating-woman stepped-off to the side. I began wiping-down the counter. The rag was dry, and would never clean. I opened-up the tap, and wet the rag. Then I began to wipe. I could feel the woman gloat behind me. Finished wiping-down the counter, I un-scrunched the rag, folded it in half, and hung it over the kitchen faucet to dry. She had left it scrunched. That’s why it had gotten musty. 215 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What else could this wonderful machine do? She must have wondered. Standing in front of the kitchen counter, looking out the sash window, I felt a tug at my collar. It pulled me back, and to the right. I was collar-led into a different living-room. This one was smaller, and had a vacuumtube television in the corner. The television was off. Positioned for television-watching was a felt-like burgundy armchair. The battle-axe handed my collar’s leash to her woman-friend. She was thrilled to be in control, and a bit nervous. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keeping_Up_Appearances) The obese woman then scuttled-out a doorway to the right, into a dining-room. A minute later, I heard her in the kitchen, behind me. A few kitchen drawers opened and closed. Thirty-seconds seconds after the last drawer close-banged, a light-blue dusting rag was suspended over my shoulder, directly in-front of my face. It smelled dusty. I was given another token cleaning assignment. I could operate the woman’s computer-terminal for her if she wanted. I might-even be able to repair it. Oh well. Cleaning was a good use of my skills. I accepted the dusting-rag. And I steadied my tail to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally swing and brush-up against her. Tails are particularly sensitive. What needed dusting? Nothing, really. What would make a good demonstration for her? 216 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I walked over to her television and dusted the top of it. “Blah blah blah.” They spoke to one-another. I already loathed and hated these people. They still watched me whir, appliance like. What else needed dusting? Perhaps something in the next room, to the right. I nonchalantly dusted my way to the right, and into the dining-room. The dining-room table needed dusting... not really. But it was dustable. The three continued to watch. What did they expect me to do? Would they follow me around the entire house as I dusted? The tops of the mahogany chairs looked dusty... but they weren’t. More? I dusted the oak hutch against the wall. It might-perhaps have been slightly dusty. Where had they hidden the knives? I turned around, and glanced at the trio. Still more? If I continued the arc around the house, the entry-foyer was next, with its exit-door. And then back into the woman’s living-room. I headed in that direction. Oops. 217 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The man bolted in front of me, to prevent me from running out the door. I hadn’t even thought about doing that. Escape was not a priority at the moment. Someone’s chubby finger poked me in the back. Grimace. I walked forward. My collar swivelled to the left, and the leash-tugged me, from behind and to the right. I had never ridden a horse, but this must be how a horse felt. A stairway to the upstairs was on my right. From the collar-tug, I understood that I was to turn to my right, perhaps facing the stairs. I did so. My rider, or was she an ox-team driver, stepped immediately behind me, and onceagain poked me with her finger. I steadied my tail. Dusting-rag in hand, I proceeded to slowly walk up the stairs. The obese woman followed a few steps behind. Not only was she lower on the staircase, but she was shorter, and she must have held the collar-leash low at waistheight, and she was further back. And the woman found it difficult to walk up the stairs. When I was half-way up, her slow pace and fumbling arms nearly pulled me over backwards. The leash she had tightly grasped, tugged forcefully at the collar around my neck. I had to grab hold of the stairway railing to prevent me from tumbling back onto her. I was tempted to grab a-hold of my collar with both hands. Both a practical way of balancing myself, and a way to communicate to her that she had nearly toppled me.
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November 12, 2011 Dignity. I continued walking up the stairs, hand grasping the railing. The obese-bitch was puffing by the time she reached the top. I was collar-reigned to the right. A doorway in that direction led into a room with a steeply-angled ceiling. I slowly walked into the room. At its highest, the room’s ceiling was 2.0 meters high, falling down to 1.2 meters at wall, in front of me. The room was empty, except for a sewing-machine against the right wall. The sewing-machine mini-desk sat underneath a curtain-less divided window. The reigns pulled back. I halted. My control-strap was handed to someone else. No-longer afraid of me, the obese woman jostled around me, and ambled to the 1.2meter-high painted wood-panel wall in front of me. She undid a latch, and opened a cupboard doorway into an attic crawlspace. She motioned with her arm for me to enter. She had to be kidding. Grimace. Was that my room? Fuck her. I slowly walked forward, and then encountered an embarrassing problem when my forehead nearly touched the steeply-angled ceiling. I couldn’t crouch and walk. I would have to crawl-in on my hands and knees. 219 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I bent down, and then onto my hands and knees. The trio saw the gesture as somehow fitting of my animal-ness. I crawled forward, my head now inside the dark triangular-cavity. I flicked my tail-up as a rude gesture to them. Inside was a thin and stale mattress. A pillow. And some sheets. I crawled onto the mattress. Before I got all of the way in, my collar tugged me backwards. I stopped. What now? The woman unhooked the leash from the collar... inadvertently touching my tail. Eye-grimace. Still on my hands and knees, the bottom of my right-foot was “gently” prodded by her shoed foot... without reigns to communicate to me, the foot-tap must-have meant that I was to crawl forward. I did so. Once fully inside, the door closed. It was locked. Something heavy was pushed in front of the door, ensuring that I couldn’t kickout the door. I lay on the shallow mattress, in the darkness, a new kitchen-appliance, packedaway into a bitch-Hominid’s cupboard.
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AN UNDER-EMPLOYED KITCHEN APPLIANCE The thick collar around my neck didn’t come off. It was held-on by two small luggagelocks. The attic storeroom was empty except for my bed equipment. Shingle nail-points stuck through the wood sub-roof. If I really tried, I might be able to impale the nails a couple of centimetres into my skull. What was a Cheetah to do in my position? I decided to see where reality led me.
The next morning, an hour after the birds went off, the all-in-one sewing-machine short-desk that weighted my door shut, was pushed aside. A U-lock was unlocked, and clank-deposited on the short-desk. My door was opened. While crawling out forwards on hands and knees – again, I couldn’t walk in a crouched position – the battle-axe bitch clipped the leash onto the collar. She had-to first reach underneath my neck, and swivel the collar so the locks and leash-hole were in back. I think she was nervous that I might bite her. I was forced to embarrassingly crawl half-way into the room before I could stand up. Being naked didn’t bother me. But because the Hominids saw nudity as a degradation, I was angered. When I stood up, my eyes to the battle-axes head-top, I noticed the long iron pry-bar clenched in her right hand. She held it level, intending to use it as a distance-device in case I attacked. Undoubtedly, she’d have no qualms about bashing my head with it. The pry-bar’s swing might be stopped by the low ceiling though.
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November 12, 2011 Using the long pry-bar to ensure that I was kept distant, and the leash to pull me close, the woman walked around, and behind me. I was poked in the back with the iron. Forward, horse! I walked into the second-floor stair-hallway. The woman obviously preferred poking to reigns. A hard tap on my right ribs indicated that I should turn left... I think. The stairway led down that way. I turned left, and walked down the stairs. The woman followed, this time tugged by me. If I really wanted to, I could have lunged down the stairs, perhaps taking her with me. I could then have grabbed her iron pry-bar; it would have fallen out of her hands. No matter. I could grab it at any time I wanted. At the base of the stairs, I was poked into her computer-room. On the walnut coffee-table was a dusting-rag and a feather-duster. For the next hour, I was poked and prodded around the house, dusting. Occasional grunts from the woman, not words, meant that I had missed something, or that I needed to clean higher. The house didn’t need to be dusted at all. Her kitchen-counter had a blotch of spilled raspberry jam. She could have at least left me some dirty dishes. The knives were distinctly missing.
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November 12, 2011 Cleaning took approximately one-hour. It would have taken less-time if I hadn’t been collared, poked, and prodded. It would have taken even less time if I only cleaned the dirty surfaces. After that, I was led upstairs and locked away for the day. The ENTIRE day. And the ENTIRE night. And most of the next morning. This routine continued every day, gradually turning less-and-less restrictive. I was eventually allowed to clean without the woman following me with the iron poker, then without her following me but with the leash tied to some furniture, and then without the leash tied to anything. I was never able to shed the leash, nor the tall-black collar she had locked around my neck. Fleas and ticks would eventually infest underneath it. The moron-bitch eventually gave me water, on the third day... after I boldly grabbed a clean glass, filled it from the tap, and drunk thirstily. I was fed by the fourth or fifth day. A bread-roll with some processed cheese. She once put mayonnaise on it for me, which tasted INCREDIBLY good to me. We Cheetahs are not vegetarians, nor are we granivores. The woman ate when I ate, sitting opposite at a tiny tile-covered kitchen-table. She made herself a sliced roast-beef sandwich on a bread roll, with at least 100-grams of meat. Some days she ate ham. And she’d eat a dessert, such as strawberries with whipped cream. I was only ever fed a bread-roll, completely nutrition-free for me, with processed cheese, 95% nutrition-free. That wasn’t her only neglect. The first time the bitch thought to let me toilet – I had already used the corner of my attic-nook at night since I had no other choice – she took me outside behind her house. She led me to a tree. 223 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Yeah, right. I walked around the tree for some privacy, the leash pulling on my collar as I squatted. I tried to make the experience as unpleasant as possible for her. In time, she allowed me to use the downstairs toilet, when she remembered. This is what really got to me: Not only was I enslaved. But I was sold to an 80-IQ moron. Who didn’t actually have a need for a slave at all. I did, at most, two-hours of work a day... and that was really-really stretching it, as well as pretending that the house was actually dirty. Which meant that I was only taken out of solitary-confinement for, at most, two-hours a day. And, she had me doing under-skilled work. I could have done whatever databasework she was doing on her computer. But all I did was dust. I could have taught her almost anything, and I could have learned her language. But all I ever got from her were grunts, as if I would never be able to learn her language. Near the end of my stay, she once-or-twice said something like “Eigen dune” to me, with an implied meaning of “Up there”, to indicate that I missed some cleaning. For the most part, I was a bread-and-cheese fed electric duster, gradually wastingaway to bones and tattered skin. The moronic-bitch never got any of my hints that I was starving to death. Whenever I opened the refrigerator for more food, she pushed the door shut with her long iron pry-bar. If I had persisted, the pry-bar would have hit my head.
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ESCAPE Escape was impossible. I didn’t know much about implants and tracking, but I knew enough to know that nomatter where I went on the planet, Hominid slave-catchers would be able to fly a helicopter directly to my location. And even if they couldn’t, I’d eventually come-across civilization, where I would be caught. And even if I stayed hidden, I’d need to eat more than the leaves on the trees. At best, I could only catch medium-sized mammals. Perhaps squirrels with a trap, which I didn’t know how to build. The only thing I knew about hunting was from an hourlong documentary filmed with a suave Cheetah-man action-presenter. He tried to catch a springbok with his bare hands. It didn’t work. Neither did a stick-club work. He ended up in hospital before he got to try-out his makeshift bow. I didn’t even consider that I’d need to somehow find water. As far as schmoozing the battle-axe, that’s not something that Cheetahs do, or even think about, or even know that other races do. The psychology-lessons I had in high-school were mostly Cheetah psychology, how to tell if a friend was depressed, how male psychology differed from female psychology, and what to do in the event of combat stress. 80 IQ Hominid women exhibited behaviours off the Cheetah psychology-scale. Cheetahs don’t naturally manipulate other people. I might have been able to manipulate an 80-IQ Cheetah. I had no clue how to manipulate the Hominid woman. The woman tortured me daily. Oddly, she didn’t seem to intend to torture me. She just did-so inadvertently, through neglect and fear. Even 60-IQ Cheetahs fed their children regularly. After escaping from Azruck, I have since learned that her treatment of me was slightly-worse than normal – In that, the complete-lack of nutritious food was much 225 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 worse, so was the all-day solitary-confinement in her attic prison. She never had me mated. Nor did she ever beat me. Most people experience(d) a bit of everything. The husband-neighbour was much-more empathic. I perhaps could have found a way to move in with them. But when I heard what they did to Lilly, I wasn’t so keen. (See below.)
LILLY Three weeks after I was delivered to the battle-axe’s house, and after I finished my unnecessary cleaning for the day, the neighbour-husband stopped by. He knocked on the front door, the first time anyone knocked on the obese-woman’s front-door while I was out of my cupboard. I thought about answering the door like a proper servant; it certainly would prove more-interesting than re-dusting the same furniture every day. “Ch,” she said to me, and motioned for me to walk towards her. The woman grabbed hold of my leash. Pathetic. The door didn’t wait to be opened. The neighbour-man opened the door. “Blah blah,” he announced. “Blah blah blah,” she said back. After a few sentences between them, the battle-axe handed my leash to the balding man. He took it with a worried look on his face. The man led me to the closed front-door, opened it, and collar-led me out. Then he stepped behind me, and closed the door. 226 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The husband-neighbour led me down the woman’s walkway, walking to the left, and just in front of me. The battle-axe always walked in front, or behind with a poker. When we got to the low picket-fence gate, the man stepped forward, opened the gate, let me through, and closed it. Crossing the street, the man walked beside me. I was politely led in an arc around his house to his backyard, a tree-shaded patch of grass. If I had known anything about non-city-life, I would have realized that the neighbour’s property was lower, and sloped down to a stream. Denser and morelush trees would have clued me in. Sitting on an old wood-chopping stump, was a Goat-evolved woman. What was the neighbour-man up to? A stump sat opposite her. I was prompted to sit-down on the opposite stump, and I did. So far, this hadn’t been an unpleasant experience. Other than the issue of the leash, the man treated me like a person. I thought too soon... The man ruined the moment when he tied my leash to the nearby remnants of a wooden cattle/horse fence. Oh well, I shouldn’t have expected much. The Goat-evolved woman who sat in front of me was naked. I still had not been allowed clothes. Nor a shower, for that matter. She looked at me. I could tell she was very sad. She looked at the collar around my neck, and eye-followed the leash down to the cattle fence.
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November 12, 2011 She had no collar. Either her slavers were kinder, which they seemed to be, and/or she was less of a concern. Perhaps she wasn’t expected to run away, or perhaps Goats were not thought to be dangerous. They had no claws, or teeth to bite. The man walked away, and left us alone. What was I supposed to do here? I obviously wasn’t going to clean their house. I had half-expected that. I looked my companion up-and-down. She also might have been delivered recently, most-likely sometime after my airport shuttle-bus arrived. Goats are very sly, or at least she was. She was facing the house, and watched the man intently. As soon as he walked inside and closed the door, she gave a look that could kill... or at least maim sexually. The Goat very-quietly spoke something. I didn’t understand the language. I looked back at the house. They husband and wife were watching through the window. Did they expect us to go on a date? I turned back to the Goat-evolved woman, and nodded downwards, indicating that I didn’t understand her. She next spoke in a language that I did understand. It was used in one of the multiracial zones. “How are you?” she asked. I sly-smiled at her, but didn’t speak back.
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November 12, 2011 Pretending not to see my prey, I looked down, staring at the ground. She wasn’t my prey, by the way. I didn’t answer her question, but she understood that I understood her. My ears twisted back to listen. “What has been happening with you?” she asked. I looked at her and squinted in anger, not at her, but at the Hominids. “Fucking slavery,” I whispered. She looked left-and-right nervously, and behind me to ensure that we weren’t being watched. “I hate this shit-fucking place.” The woman looked at my leash. “Apparently, my fingers aren’t capable of untying that leash,” she continued. The venomous Goat squinted while speaking the line, her left upper-lip raised. I prey-looked at the ground again, clandestinely glancing back. Only the husband was watching. Perhaps he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to eat his Goat slave. I wished telepathy worked. “Did you get an emergency call out?” I whisper-asked. I received a right eye-squint from the Goat woman. She was young, about my age. “I think so.” Grimace on my part. My emergency telepathy call-out had only met with silence. “What am I supposed to do here with you?” Maybe the Goat-woman knew what was up. “I don’t know,” a sly look to see how much we were being observed. “I was led out here half-an-hour ago, and seated. I thought you were going to be a male for me. Some sort of courtship” Why would I be a male? 229 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She continued. “I only got in last week.” Her lower-lip lowered in rage. “Fuck. I hope my parents can ransom me.” I hadn’t thought of that. I wouldn’t be ransomed. My older sister didn’t have the money. Me, “Where are we?” A short snort from the Goat-woman. “Hell if I know. Bum-fuck Hominid-ville.” “I hope I’m not supposed to mate with you,” I joked. A worried-look appeared on her face. “They have a book on the table with photographs of male Goat-evolved men.” Her look became distinctly violent. My eyes closed slowly. Sigh. I waited for her to say something. She didn’t speak for about five minutes. “I think we’re supposed to be friends. Herbivores and carnivores work well together, don’t they?” She quickly exhaled in disgust. “Yeah, well, we can at least not be antagonistic.” Something like a smile crept onto her face. Cheetahs don’t exactly befriend people. They do, and they don’t. For the most part, Cheetah socialization involves selecting a recreation, such as watching a video. They travel to the recreation site, and look-around for someone-else who happens to be there. If anyone non-abhorrent is present, they interact with them in a friendly manner. When a Cheetah bores of the recreation, they leave, usually without any of the other participating Cheetahs being alerted, or even noticing that they have left. 230 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Did I want to play-along with this friendship business? Not really. Cheetahs do make friends, but only a few, and only very gradually. My half-sister was my friend. Cheetahs certainly can’t be forced into friendship. And certainly not by a Hominid slaver. An acquaintanceship was convenient though. I did appreciate the venue. It was certainly nicer than a closet. The Goat-evolved woman obviously felt that befriending someone wasn’t a bad idea. I didn’t answer back. I wouldn’t try to be friends. But I would be mercenary about being sociable, so that I could stay at the venue. And there certainly wasn’t anything objectionable about the Goat-woman. “My name is Lilly, by the way,” she said. I used a pseudonym, “My name is Shinzah.” “Shinzah” meant “Cheetah”, and was also the name of a dashing cartoon-character in one of the children’s televisionseries I had watched when I was an early-teen.
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THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR Locked in my attic triangle, I could hear that the television had been watched until late into the night, volume blaring. I heard recordings of ambulance-sirens every fifteen minutes, along with televised speech that I couldn’t understand. The audio occasionally included panicked yells, something I had never heard on the woman’s television. Her television shows were always staid talk-shows. Sometime in the late night, the television was turned off. The next morning, the television was once-again on, and loud. An occasional explosion and shattering glass, as well as crying, could be heard. I had never heard the television stay on for more than half an hour. And when the television was on, only talk-shows played on it. This sounded like news. Did they actually get news on this planet? The battle-axe was very-speedy when getting me out of the cupboard. And she was irate. She scrambled down the steps way ahead of me. I took my time walking down the stairs. What had happened? Instead of her working in her den with her computer, the woman had moved her computer-terminal and telepathy-headset into her television room. There, she sat on her cranberry armchair. The television was blaring. To my eyes, the house was exceptionally dirty that morning, particularly in the television room, and any parts of the rooms that could see the television room. The woman didn’t notice me. She was oblivious to all but her television and terminal. If I had thought about it, I could have opened the refrigerator and grabbed some meat. 232 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The first video-clip I saw was of a Hominid woman-reporter – she held a microphone in front of her – standing in front of a very-large detonation-field (clearing made by a detonation). The nearest surviving structures were steel warehouses two-hundred meters distant. Then there was a flash of light. And then clips of an after-scene, from another camera. The detonation-field might have been larger. The woman-reporter wasn’t to be seen again, until the video-clip prior to her demise was replayed half-an-hour later. She may have been heat-vaporized. The woman-reporter might have once been famous, she received so much attention. Video of the nuclear detonation that created the detonation-field was shown from different locations in the city. It was a brilliant white, not an efficient nuke, nor a daisy-nuke. The television didn’t show a kiloton number, but the denotation may have been ten kilotons, perhaps one-hundred. I cleaned even-more very-slowly. This was good news. Clips were shown of us – not Cheetahs – being interrogated. We had bloody mouths and swollen eyes. A Tiger-evolved person was shown looking distinctly beaten-up. You never want to hope for war, but I detested the Hominids. The thought of rescueby-war was inviting. The attack was on the planet of Lilac, I would later find out. I had briefly been on Lilac a month before. The nuclear detonation had occurred during an “Al Ari” rescue of enslaved “animal”-people from a warehouse. The warehouse and all of the ones surrounding it had been destroyed by the detonation. The Hominid media blamed the Al Ari for the detonation, though the Al Ari didn’t setoff the nukes. Hominid yahoo-soldiers in a battleship above overreacted to the 233 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “animal” rescue, and decided to 100%-definitely blow-up all of the “animal” spaceplanes, pilots, and Al-Ari rescuers. Half of the Al Ari fleet was destroyed that millisecond. The detonation-field was the size of an entire city block, and the destruction covered nine. The Hominid media and governments blamed the Al Ari. All of us enslaved-people, undoubtedly, were now suspected of belonging to the Al Ari. The battle-axe looked at me with new suspicion, not-only worried that I would run away or bite her, but that I might stab, shoot, or detonate her.
LILLY Never piss-off a Goat-evolved person. They can pretend to be docile and subservient while they plan their revenge. Cheetahs merely get surly. The neighbour-husband wasn’t a bad guy, especially in the grand scheme of things. His wife was a follower. Neither were as bad as the battle-axe. I have since been told that Azcruk, where I was kept enslaved, was worse than 80% of the Hominid planets, as far as slavery and slave-treatment goes. I’d hate to see the other 20%. A week after I met her, Lilly had been “bred” with a Goat-evolved male whose fur had nice coloration. The neighbour-wife had chosen Lilly’s “husband” (the neighbourwife’s word) specifically because of his brown patches on white. Lilly was merely white. Lilly was distraught. That was visually-obvious to me, and it must have also been evident to the neighbour-husband. I could also smell Lilly’s Goat stress-odour.
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November 12, 2011 The neighbour-husband regularly rescued me from solitary confinement, taking me to his backyard for visits with Lilly every day or two. I enjoyed the visits. Lilly absolutely required them. During our visits, I told Lilly a little about myself. I trusted her, but I didn’t trust that spying-Hominids weren’t telepathically eavesdropping on us. Lilly talked about her past. Crap, that made me sad. I had a past also. My past was suspended at the time. It is now gone. I listened like a friend should. Lilly had travelled away from her planet to hide from the war. Her family must have been more-observant than mine. I didn’t even know that a war was looming. On second thought, maybe my half-sister knew; maybe that’s why she encouraged me to leave the planet. Lilly and her brother had been flown to a summer-camp planet, where they could spend half-a-year to a year hiding out. Summer-camp planets were worthless as realestate; the Hominids were unlikely to invade. They did invade. And they took Lilly, her brother, and all her summer-camp friends as hostages... to be used temporarily and/or permanently as slaves and breeders. No-one had expected the Hominids to take hostages. People sent their teenage-children to summer-camps so they wouldn’t be killed in the expected urban bombings. Lilly’s brother had been separated from her when they were led into the spaceplane. He was directed left into the male compartment of the Hominid cargo-become-slaver ship. Female Goat-people were directed right. Lilly hadn’t seen her brother since. She half-hoped she would be “introduced” to her brother for breeding purposes, so she could at least see him.
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LILLY A month later, Lilly was bred-raped again. Her Hominid “family” (their word) watched, just to make sure that insertion occurred. The first time that Lilly was bred-raped, the forced-together couple didn’t know if they were being watched. Lilly and her unwilling concubine whispered to one another. If he were caught not inserting, he would be punished-tortured, and Lilly would eventually be force-inserted. So Lilly told him he could insert, although the anonymous male-teenager tried to insert late. Because Lilly didn’t get pregnant after the first session, the pair was openly watched for their second nuptials. The neighbour-woman stood in the room, coolly observing. The husband found that duty distasteful-enough that he weaselled out. It was about then in Lilly’s retelling, on that particular day, that I was rushed-back to “my” house.
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MORE NUKES The television was on once-again, a month and a half after the first bombings. This time, the battle-axe was so enraged by the news, that she had lugged the heavy tube-television into her computer-room. It sat on her coffee table, which had been pushed against the wall. She had also rotated her desk, so she could watch the newsbroadcast while working. When the man pushed me through the front door – he didn’t dare stay to say “Hello” – the obese-woman was violently watching the television. She clacked-in database entries with vengeance, as if her keystrokes would smite her enemies. She made me sit down on her sofa, and watch the news, with the implication that the news-event was all my fault. I should be contrite and learn from the lesson. The Hominid planet, Lilac, had just been hit by ten nukes. And they were larger than the previous ones, which had only destroyed a few city blocks. I put-off thinking about Lilly’s breeding-rape. The attacks came during the day. Most of the nuke-flashes were visually-diminished by the day’s sunlight. The brilliant light-and-particle flash from each detonation implied that heat-nukes were used. Efficient nukes mostly-produced a concussion, with little light or particle dispersion. One unfortunate city had been experiencing overcast-skies with rain. Its nucleardemise was all-the-more spectacular because of the thick clouds overhead. A weather-cam videoed destruction of the city centre and surrounding suburbs. The same image was repeatedly broadcast over the next few weeks. Television reporters were visibly scrambling to extract information from anyone, something you’re familiar with from Earth’s experience on 9/11. Multiply that by 100-million people. Those were the casualty-figure at the time. But ten city-sized nuclear detonations couldn’t have killed 100-million people. Either the figures were 237 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 inflated by a factor or ten, or the number of cities hit was deflated by a factor of ten. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11) All television-experts instantly blamed the Al Ari, an antislavery “animal”-people rescue-organization that had been blamed for the first bombings. Fewer battered alleged-Al-Ari “animal”-people were shown on television this time. Some battered Simians were shown though. The hysteria continued for weeks on Azcruk. If the Hominids on Azcruk had been flag wavers, they would have all gone out and purchased flags to hang in front of their houses. My telepathy had been disabled for the entire time I was on Azcruk. Two days after the event, I began receiving telepathic thumps about preparing for a nuclear holocaust. People in the post-9/11 United States received similar, but lessperceptible telepathic panics. The community-wide Hominid telepathic signals encouraged me (and all of the Hominids) to prepare for imminent nuclear strikes. Our bomb-shelters had to be readied. We needed to conserve food, particularly tinned food. Anything might happen. The war was finally upon us. Halleluiah! – Literally. I do not joke. The battle-bitch was in a telepathy-induced furore for weeks; she worked at her database-entry all-hours of the day. So did her neighbour-wife, also employed in the same line of work, I learned from Lilly. The neighbour-husband stayed away from both Hominid women. He walked about the house very quietly, and did all of his assigned chores without grumbling.
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HISTORY The Al Ari was NOT responsible for the second set of attacks either. Those attacks were from a Simian nation, as well as an Iguanodon-evolved nation occupied by the Lilac military. In the coming months, the Iguanodon-people were massacred to the point of genocide. The Simian planet was occupied. And the Al Ari were publicly blamed, and hunted down wherever they went. Nukings occurred on the night-side of the planet also, though they were not shown on the television. The Al-Ari warehouse-rescue detonations were from missiles fired by a non-Lilac Hominid military, who took the opportunity to decisively strike the Al Ari. Televised lies blamed the Al Ari for the bombings. The Lilac-military knew that the Al Ari weren’t at fault. They suspected that the Iguanodon-evolved nation and the Simian nation had launched the attack. The two non-Hominid planets/nations already had Lilac military on them. Hominid militaryinvestigators found evidence that both occupied nations had been colluding to produce nuclear weapons, potentially to attack Lilac. It was more complicated than this, but a series of heavy-handed actions by the Lilac (and other) Hominids led to the bombings of Lilac by the Iguanodon-evolved people and the Simians. Slave-rescue begets a nine-block-sized detonation-field, which causes an investigation of occupied nations, which augments tensions, leading to a planet-wide nuclear strike, the genocide/occupation of the Iguanodon-evolved people, and the occupation of the Simians. This causality chain led the Milky-Way Galaxy to become one of the first galaxies to experience the war. In July 2009, the Saurians and the Greys (and others) tried to rescue-abduct me (Mike) and several other contactees. Our attempted rescue was encouraged by the apparent arming-for-war of the Hominids in the Andromeda Galaxy. Rescueabductions would be very-difficult once the war had begun. The Saurian and Grey (and others) rescue spaceplanes were surprise-attacked by much-higher-technology weapons than had previously been used by the Hominids in 239 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the Milky-Way Galaxy, and in neighbouring galaxies. The high-tech attacks amounted to several-thousand points added to a million-point total, which caused the Saurians to further-investigate and prod the Hominid “We All” Empire in the Andromeda Galaxy. Saurian military investigation/incursion missions flown into the “We All” Empire were attacked. Hundreds-of-thousands of new points were added to the million-point total. The “We All” Empire was preparing for war. The Andromeda-Galaxy Saurians encouraged the Andromeda-Galaxy war. The “We All” Empire was destroyed within a year. When the “We All” Empire was proven to be preparing for war, the Iguanodon-nation was alerted. The Milky-Way-Galaxy Hominids were also suspected of belligerency. The Iguanodon-nation began augmenting their nuclear arsenal. This was detected by Lilac, and led to heavy-handed measures from the Milky-Way-Galaxy Hominids, which resulted in the bombings of Lilac. All of the hostage-and-slave taking by Hominids in 2009-2010, of which Lilly was a victim, led to retaliation in The Six [Hominid] Kingdoms, fifteen to one-hundred galaxies distant. The retaliation-attacks for hostage-taking, led to non-Hominid military incursions into The Six Kingdoms. The incursions exposed hidden very-hightech planet-destroying weapons. This caused non-Hominid high-tech nations, who were 98%-likely targets of the planet-destroying weapons, to Pearl-Harbour-like attack the parked planet-destroyers. The Six Kingdoms were brought into the war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearl_Harbor_attack) The abduction-rescues on Earth-Sol were an unintended consequence of preliminary investigations into another “disclosure” attempt on Earth-Sol. Barack Obama’s election as United States president was an encouraging political development that improved the odds of “disclosure”. A “disclosure” initiative in 2001 was aborted because of the 9/11 attacks, and their aftermath. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barack_obama, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11_attacks)
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LILLY I saw Lilly less-often over the next few weeks. With Al Ari sleeper-cells and sympathisers everywhere, I was no-longer trusted to cross the street. Any of us could be a terrorist. Cat-evolved people, especially, were suspect. Many Al-Ari leaders were Cat-evolved... Four-legged Tiger-evolved. To a Hominid, two-legged Cheetahs are practically the same thing. Lilly was “bred” several-times more. She was being impregnated, of course, because any children Lilly would have-had, would be sold for a few-thousand dollars after they were weaned. Her hate was palpable. She informed me that I was also to be raped, as soon as a male Cat was found. Moronic Hominids, I thought. Cheetahs aren’t Cats. At least I wouldn’t get pregnant. Lilly wasn’t sure if she was pregnant or not. Since Lilly was malnourished, her foetus wouldn’t grow as quickly, nor would he/she grow to full size. Lilly’s pregnancy wouldn’t be visible for some months.
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LILLY On a different occasion, Lilly mentioned that her Hominid “family” (their word, not hers) had driven her a kilometre down the road to a dinner party, several times. She wasn’t given any food, but she had met more of us there. One was a Coyote-evolved woman (not Malamute as I wrote earlier), one Weasel-evolved, and another Rabbitevolved. “Your [battle-axe] master”, she said cynically, had been there also. I had been locked in my cupboard while she was gone.
LILLY Lilly mentioned that she had been studying aerospace engineering. Her studies were postponed by her run-and-hide holiday. Her brother was studying to be an architect. I kept my own past quiet.
LILLY The next week, I gave into friendliness and ignored my paranoia about being telepathically listened-to. I described to Lilly what I had been doing with the SynCheetahs. I acutely perceived that Lilly craved our time-together talking. Being a Cheetah, I wasn’t so emotionally-attached to Lilly that I would call her a friend, more of an acquaintance. Unfortunately, this sounds harsh to non-Cheetahs. “Friendship” in Cheetahs is an unusual and strong emotional-attachment. Cheetahs rarely have more than one “friend”, and only a handful of “acquaintances”. Everyone-else is merely everyone else. 242 | P a g e
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THE END OF THE WORLD I have to admit, the end of the world is quite pretty. One morning, the battle-bitch didn’t unlock my cupboard-prison-cell to let me out. I stayed there all day. The birds were awfully quiet that day, though. I didn’t notice this until it was later pointed-out to me. When would she let me out? I spent at least two full days locked away, perhaps three. Then I heard some non-shoed footfalls climb the staircase. There was whispering in the galactic-standard language. The sewing-machine mini-desk that blocked my door was pushed aside. The lock was unlocked. Unbeknownst to me, the keys were daily left on the minidesk. Convenient, but not terribly clever. The door opened. A Coyote-person stared in, and smiled. Where was the battle-bitch? “She’s not here.” Telepathy worked!
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November 12, 2011 “Yes, their blockers have been turned off. Telepathy only has a range of a few meters though.” “Cool,” I thought. A weasel-evolved person poked his head in. “Come on out. Everyone [the Hominids] is hiding.” Had we been rescued by an invasion force? “Not quite. You have to see this to believe it.” The house was dark... ... but slightly blue. I followed the two down the stairs, and then outside, where I met Lilly and a Rabbitevolved teenager. Lilly was happy to see me. She hugged me. And then she pointed up. The sky was navy blue. There was no sun. There were no stars. There might have been very-large spherical “blobs” that were slightly luminescent. Vincent Van Gogh’s, “The Starry Night” could have been painted that night day. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Starry_Night, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vincent_van_Gogh)
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What the fuck had happened? “We think they were attacked. ” “We don’t know,” telepathed someone else. “They’re all hiding in their fallout shelters.” The five of us spent the day, if you could call it a day, wandering around the forest and the creek behind Lilly’s house. How could someone hide the sun? How could they do that to the sky?
What really happened was that Azcruk was time-dunked by the Hominid military. We only spent six days under “The Starry Sky”. Three-quarters of a year passed in the rest of the world. 245 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Television had warned the Azcruk Hominids what would happen. Enough of them had fallout shelters, where they “hid” from the devastating cosmic-rays experienced by people on time-dunked planets. Their fallout shelters weren’t deep enough, but the Azcruk Hominids didn’t know this. They were only 10% less-irradiated than the five of us were. According to the Coyote-woman, the Hominids were told that their planet would emerge from the time-dunk after a few weeks, but fifty-years later to everyone else. The war would be over. The Hominids would have valiantly won the war. And there would be “milk and honey” for all – their words. Azcruk was only under for three-quarters of a year. The planet and its population was time-dunked as an trial, to test-out the planet-dunking process. Lilac, the planet of Azcruk’s parent-nation, was time-dunked a few months later, also for three-quarters of a year.
“YOU’RE MY FRIEND, SHINZAH” We slept outside, near the creek, as far away from the Hominid houses as possible, just in case they came-out of their shelters. I finally got to bathe myself, after three months. Lilly had been allowed to bathe regularly, but she also bathed herself when I did, getting some shampoo from the house. She propped-up her belly with her hand as she bathed. Was she pregnant? After the others had also bathed and dried-off, we wandered-about, talked, and soaked-in our temporary freedom. And then we slept. After three days of “Starry Night” freedom, we nearly had a morning. A sun was barely visible in the sky, yellow-white in colour. Azcruk’s sun had been yellow. The new sun was VERY large. 246 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 During a morning-long discussion, we concluded that the planet we were on had been moved. The Rabbit-evolved teenager had read of such a thing in a sciencefiction story. Once the move was complete, the Hominids would emerge from their bomb shelters. We would be in trouble. They would whip-us (or something similar) for running away. They would know we were in “cahoots”, and we’d never see one-another again. Everyone would be locked-up in solitary confinement like me... Thanks guys. And we’d miss our chance to escape. We discussed running further into the hilly lightly-forested savannah. The herbivores among-us could survive on grass, herbs, and leaves... barely. The foliage wasn’t very nutritious. The three of us carnivores would die without meat, and with only grassand-leaves. And we would be tracked-down by slave-catchers within weeks. What were we going to do? When the sun set a few hours later, which made for a very-short day, I fell asleep. I think the others stayed awake. When I woke up, Lilly stood in front of me. “You’re my friend, Shinzah,” she spoke. That phrase got me nervous. Cheetahs were very-slow to befriend. Lilly held out a long triangular knife. “I want you to kill me.” I squinted. What was up? 247 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I am serious. I want to die. I cannot exist here.” I didn’t want to become a murderer. “Shinzah, I am earnestly serious. You’re the best friend I have here.” She continued. “Please kill me.” “Can’t you kill yourself?” I stated. “I don’t want to become a murderer.” I selfishly briefly thought-about what the Hominids would do to me if they caught me having suicide-killed Lilly. They would know. They would sick a telepath on us to see who had killed her. I would be arrested for murder, imprisoned, and most-likely tortured. “I CAN’T hold the knife myself, and stab myself,” Lilly pleaded. That was certainly true. Lilly’s hands required a different knife-handle. “Please kill me, friend.” And then it got worse. The Coyote-woman approached. “I stole the knife from my family. I went back last night, and got it. They weren’t verygood at hiding it.” Theft. The Hominids would see borrowing a knife as theft. The Coyote-woman continued. “We all want to die. We don’t know about you, but we all want to die.” My muscles tensed with apprehension. “Both Lilly and Casey [the Rabbit-teenager] FEEL that committing suicide is the best way for us to get off Azcruk.” The Coyote-woman was trying to convince me. Suicide was never a good option. You never knew what would happen after you killed yourself. 248 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “The whispers seem to be talking to them, and giving them permission,” she added. The Coyote-woman was obviously the mature-leader of the group. “You have the most-appropriate hands for grasping the knife.” The Coyote-woman’s speech slowed with emphasis, and she selected her words carefully: “After you kill Lilly...” She restarted her sentence. “After you have helped Lilly die, you can kill all of us.” “Let me rephrase that. After you help Lilly die, you can help us die in the same way.” I didn’t like the sound of this at all. It chilled me to the bone. “We know you don’t like it.” The Coyote-woman was reading my mind, of course. “Lilly cannot stab herself with her hooves and that knife.” “Merry [the weasel] cannot grasp the knife either.” “Casey [the Rabbit teenager] doesn’t have what is necessary to kill herself. She definitely doesn’t have the will-strength to kill us.” I didn’t get a chance to think of a response. “You are more mature than they are,” was telepathically whispered to me by the Coyote-woman. “I can stab myself in the heart, but it’ll be difficult. My hands can barely hold the knife. It is even-more difficult for me to hold it in front of me and to stab myself. I have tested this.” Crap. I really didn’t like the sound of this plan. “We might be able to simultaneously stab one-another last.” The Coyote-woman suggested this to make my own self-suicide easier. I would have to kill myself after suicide-killing them, or the Azcruk police would go after me.
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November 12, 2011 “I have a smaller knife that I can hold. I can stab you in the back as you stab me in my back.” For all I knew, stabbing each other might just work. But I didn’t want to do it. “Please,” begged Lilly. “I can’t survive here.” “No one will kill me, unless they themselves die,” she continued. “They don’t want the Hominids charging them with murder and torturing them forever.” My eyes closed slowly. “The spirits here tell me that we’ll be alright,” pleaded Lilly. Fuck. I didn’t like the idea. The mature Coyote-woman stepped in. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You can think about it for an hour.” Fuck. I sat down against a tree, by the creek. As odd as it sounds, I fell asleep.
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MURDER SUICIDE When I awoke an hour later, it was already high-noon. The days were extremely short. The new sun loomed larger in the sky. We could all be fried by the overly-close sun in a few days if we passed near it, evaporated if we flew into it. Lilly approached alone. “Will you help me?” Despite my slavery living-conditions, I hadn’t been hypothesizing or planning for my own suicide. If I killed the four of them, I would have to kill myself also. “Yes,” I answered with regret. Ten minutes later, everyone gathered. I stood, my back against a tree. The sun was overbearing, at least ten-times as large as the sun appears on Earth-Sol. Lilly approached me. “How should we do this?” she asked. “I need to stab you in the heart,” I answered. That was according to the “common knowledge” I had learned from television stories and documentaries, and what little I remembered from organ biology. Lilly held up her arms, to stretch-out and expose her rib-cage. I could see individual rib-lines. The knife, a long pointed kitchen knife, was already in my right hand. I began to lift the knife. Crap. I hated this. 251 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How the hell was I going to stab her? Especially from the front. It would be more-difficult to hit her heart from the front. Her sternum provided protection. Well, that was an excuse to avoid looking into her eyes as she died. “Try turning around,” I requested glumly. Lilly lowered her arms, and turned around, her back to me. “Okay,” she verified when she had spun around. God, I hated this. But what alternatives were there? With my left hand, I grasped Lilly’s left shoulder, to steady her. I had never stabbed anyone before. I had never-even seen it done on a television movie. Theoretically, according to the movies, if I stabbed Lilly in her heart, she would bleed to death. My remembered high-school knowledge of anatomy led me to believe that she might also have a major heart attack. I didn’t even know where her heart was. I felt my own heavy-beating heart to find its location. From there, I gauged where her heart was. “Are you sure?” I asked again. “Yes,” replied Lilly. The other three stood in an arc in front of Lilly, watching her. Lilly was trembling. She smelled of stress. 252 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I placed the point of the knife against her back. Her back-skin flinched upwards. I didn’t want to do this. Crap. I hate this shit. I don’t ever want to remember it. Fuck. She would be feeling the knife point. “How will we know if you’re all right?” I asked, stalling, not for time. Just stalling. “I have been told by the whispers that I will be able to get word to you.” All of my muscles tensed. I would soon be exuding stress-smell. I pushed the knife in harder, perhaps half a centimetre. Lilly gasped a bit. She may have thought I had already stabbed her. I really didn’t want to do this. “Are you absolutely sure?” “Yes.” Lilly leaned back a bit to indicate her readiness. “Once more. Do you want me to kill you?” “Uh huh. Yes I do, Shinzah.” My name wasn’t really Shinzah, but I wasn’t about to tell Lilly that at that point. I stabbed. And I cried. 253 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And I screamed silently. Lilly stood erect. The knife was plunged all of the way into her back, up to the hilt. From the startled looks of her three friends, it must have been poking through the other side. What would happen next? Shouldn’t Lilly die immediately? I waited. She wasn’t dead. Was she in pain? “A little,” Lilly answered. She had read my mind. Obviously, Goats are good liars. How long should I wait? I held Lilly steady with my left hand, the knife still embedded by my right. Nothing happened. This was a bit of an anticlimax, I thought. “Anticlimax? Hmm. The knife-point sticking out of Lilly’s chest certainly wasn’t typical.” One of the others must have telepathed this impression. Lilly, “I feel faint.” The stabbing hadn’t worked. “You should be dead by now,” I said. “Maybe you missed her heart,” spoke the Coyote-woman. Fuck. 254 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I felt awful. I had fucked-up, and now Lilly was in pain. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” said Lilly. What if I couldn’t successfully kill Lilly? She’d have permanent organ-failure of one sort or another. Shit. “Should I stab you in another place?” I asked. “Yes,” answered Lilly. “Please, do it,” she added, with some urgency. “I am going to pull-out the knife,” I told her verbally. “I’ll see how much blood comes out. You might just bleed to death from here.” I pulled-out the knife. It had a sticky-goo of blood on it. Very-little blood trickled out of the five-centimetre gash in her back. I waited twenty seconds to see if more blood flowed out. “Are you anymore faint?” “Maybe,” said Lilly. Time to stab somewhere else. I moved the knife elsewhere (I won’t write where), and poked it into her. “I’m sorry for the pain,” I said. Fuck. I was crying. I was panicked also. 255 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I don’t remember much. I thrust the knife into her again, hoping she wouldn’t feel any more pain. Fuck! Crap! I hate this memory. Lilly lasted maybe, five seconds, and then fell down. My left hand couldn’t hold onto her. Her body slid-off my knife. Panic. “She’s dead,” came someone’s shocked telepathic-impression. Was she alive? I still didn’t see much blood coming out of the wound. Horror films led me to expected gushes of blood. Everyone stared at me as if I was a murderer... or so I thought. I was a murder, in a way. But what do you do? We all rushed to Lilly, and turned her onto her back. Her eyes were still open. “Is she breathing?” We watched her rib-cage for a minute. “No, I don’t think so.” She might have been breathing shallowly. “What about a pulse?” I didn’t know where to feel for a pulse. The Rabbit-teenager felt around Lilly. First her wrist, and then her neck veins. 256 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A happy and sad emotion came from the Rabbit-teenager. “She’s dead.” The teenager side-telepathed that she had taken a few first-aid courses. And then she uncontrollably broadcast a telepathic-impression that she had been with someone when they died from a trauma wound. And then the Rabbit-teenager began to tremble. She was now scared shitless. “How do we know if she’s all-right? What will happen to her soul?” I asked. “Just wait a few minutes,” answered the Coyote-woman, now taking control. We all stared at Lilly’s body. I thought about wiping-off the knife, but where? I had no cloth. I didn’t want to wipe it off on Lilly either. What a fucking-awkward question: “Does anyone have any clothes I can use to wipeoff this knife?” I asked. The Weasel-person took-off his shirt, and handed it to me. I wiped-off the knife. The Rabbit-teenager looked transfixed for a moment, and then meekly said, “Lilly is alright. I think. They have her soul.” She then turned towards the Weasel-person and said, “Merry, you’re next.” Thinking back, that sounds like an odd pronouncement. The Rabbit-teenager should have volunteered to be next if she were so certain. Merry didn’t hesitate much. He didn’t want to die beside the same tree that Lilly had, though. Flies were already buzzing around the blood seeping out of Lilly’s back. 257 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Merry walked me over to another tree. He positioned me so my back was against the tree. He then stood in front of me, and turned around. The Rabbit-teenager and the Coyote-woman stood close to Merry’s front. They propped him up from their side, each holding onto one of Merry’s armpits. I grabbed Merry’s left shoulder with my hand. God-damn-it, I already had a routine! I poked the knife into Merry’s back. “Are you sure you want to be stabbed?” I asked. Merry actually stepped-back into the knife. My arm was pushed back slightly. I got his message. “Sure?” “Yes. I think it’s better to die.” Merry noticed his uncertain statement. “Go for it. Stab me. I want to die.” He turned his head slightly to the right to get a glimpse of me, emphasizing the point. I plunged the knife into Merry’s heart. He went down instantly. The three of us couldn’t hold him up. By this time, we were macabrely and unfortunately, “experts”. We checked Merry’s breathing. Nothing. 258 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Rabbit-woman checked Merry’s pulse, and neck vein. Nothing. I watched her work, since most-likely, the Rabbit-woman would be next. I would have to check for a pulse. Casey telepathically-heard that thought, and looked up at me. Her telepathicimpression was kind-of, “I should expect that,” combined with, “It is my turn, isn’t it. I have to be killed before you two.” Casey was SHAKING. Casey was absolutely terrified. Casey began brooding on the “Rabbit-woman would be next” thought. “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “No, I want to, and I’m supposed to,” she answered. “It’s the only way off this planet. If we don’t get off, we are going to be caught and rounded-up when the handed-scum [Hominids] come out.” Casey continued, this time mumbling. “And then we’ll be stuck here for years more.” Pause. “I can’t live like that.” We found another tree. Casey wanted to die facing me. Again, my back was to a tree. Casey turned towards me, a head shorter. I hated this. Would I see the soul go out of her eyes? 259 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Fuck,” thought Casey. She lifted the knife-point up to her chest, and placed it between her ribs. She got the wrong ribs. I readjusted. Casey nodded yes, and whispered a single-syllable word. “Sure?” I Cheetah-whispered. That whisper would normally freak-out most herbivores. “Yeah.” Pause. “It’s my turn.” I plunged the knife into Casey. I was crying, but I couldn’t cry anymore. I hated the fucking Hominids. Why did they make me do this? Why did they make us do this? Fuck. Casey didn’t fall. She didn’t die right-away. Her eyes glazed over, and rolled-up. It must have been about twenty seconds. I had fucked-up on her too. Then she fell backwards onto Shim, the Coyote-woman. Shim caught Casey underneath her arm-pits, and gradually laid her to the ground. Casey wasn’t breathing. 260 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I checked her pulse. I couldn’t feel any, either in her arm, or her neck. Nor could Shim, when she checked Casey. “I don’t know if she has a pulse. Should I stab her again?” I asked Shim, “Just to make sure?” Shim thought. “She looks dead,” she said with her eyes raised to me. “Yeah,” I paused. “I’m just worried.” “She’s dead. Leave her body.” What a fucking crappy-life. I swore vengeance against the Hominids for making me do this. I was livid. Tears were long-gone. Shim, the Coyote-woman, was not so eager to die. Now that it was her turn, she also began to tremble. No-one knew what would happen after you died, particularly after a suicide. Shim found a tree that leaned slightly. Thoughts about stabbing one-another had gone out of our minds. I had entirely forgotten about the idea. It wouldn’t have worked either. I was now thinking about my own suicide, not about how I would kill Shim. I’d have to stab myself in the chest from the front. Unfortunately, and morosely, Casey having me stab her from the front was practice.
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November 12, 2011 Shim hugged the leaning tree. It would prop her up when she died. It was a good idea. What the fuck was I doing, thinking that Shim’s suicide-invention was a good idea? It showed that we were perfecting the technique. God, I hated the fucking Hominids. Shim readjusted herself, and let me know she was ready. “I’m ready. Stab me. I’ve died before.” I positioned the knife. “Once again. Do you really want me to stab you?” “Yes.” I once-again stabbed. Shim didn’t collapse to the ground. Fuck. I hated this. Was she still alive? Tears welled up. I would remember this forever. “Shim, are you dead?” I asked. No response. “Shim?” Nope. 262 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Nothing. Silence. Shim had propped herself-up so-well that she wouldn’t fall away from the tree, even if she had died. I dropped the knife, and grabbed both of Shim’s shoulders. She fell backwards towards me. I deflected her falling body towards the ground... so that I wouldn’t get blood all-over me. What a selfish thought. Lying on her back, head turned, Shim’s tongue rolled out the side of her open jaw. Her eyes were closed. I’m crying as write this. There was no blood or puncture in Shim’s chest. She wasn’t breathing. I watched for a minute. She still wasn’t breathing. I checked for her pulse. Hell, how would I know if she didn’t have a pulse? I couldn’t feel anything. I waited a few minutes, watching for any sign of life or breath, just to make sure she was dead. Shim was dead. “They’re all-right,” I received a clear telepath. I cried then. 263 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I am crying now. It was my turn. How was I going to commit suicide myself? I hadn’t practiced that one. Before killing myself, I made sure everyone else was dead. I walked around to all four trees. I nudged everyone with my foot just to make sure. I watched each of them for at least a minute. I couldn’t bear to check their pulse. I didn’t want to leave any of them in pain. Nor did I want to leave them to their Azcruk enslavement. Sigh. I wandered aimlessly a short distance. I wiped-off my knife. I had forgotten to wipe it off for Shim. Oh well, I fucked that one up. How would I kill myself? I tried leaning against a tree. And held the knife to my chest. That wouldn’t work. I sat down against a tree. 264 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I poked the knife in a few centimetres, without piercing my heart. It hurt, but not that badly. I plunged the knife in. My heart stop. I felt it stop. I became light-headed. My vision failed. I was sucked into a curling well of darkness.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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DISCLOSURE FROM THE ALIENS’ POINT-OF-VIEW – CHOICE FICTION by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
This is “Choice fiction”, like a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book. Start reading the short-story from the “Begin here” title. When you reach the end of the section, you will be able to decide what your character does. Click on one of the choices to progress further into the story. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_Your_Own_Adventure)
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BEGIN HERE You are an alien who is assigned to work on “disclosure” for Earth-Sol. Regrettably, you are not allowed to role-play a Grey in this choice-fiction story. The Greys are a bit radioactive at the moment, so the task of “disclosing” has been temporarily assigned to other alien races. What alien race do you wish to be? (Remember the race you have selected. It will be important later-on in the story.)
Simian – Homo Sapiens are evolved from Australopithecus. Your race is evolved from monkeys. To read science fiction involving Simian races, see David Brin’s Uplift Universe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australopithecus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Brin, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uplift_Universe)
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November 12, 2011 Two-legged sleek cat – Your ancestors came from “sleek” cats, such as the margay. Science-fiction author Larry Niven wrote science-fiction involving cat-evolved people, called Kzin. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margay, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smilodon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_niven, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kzin)
Canine-evolved – Your race was evolved from canines, including wolves, coyotes, dogs, and foxes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canidae)
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November 12, 2011 Elk-evolved – Now walking on two legs, your ancestors were elk, deer, or caribou.
You begin your “Disclosure” adventure in a drop-ship, on approach to Earth-Sol. Because the Greys’ Earth-disclosure-attempt failed when the U.S. government made them top-secret, this next attempt will land ten-thousand aliens in public locations all over the planet, all at once.
“Why are only mammal-evolved races landing?” you ask your disclosure-buddy, Sam. “With the Greys out of commission, the disclosure task was left up to the Saurians and the Arthropods. Both conveniently claim that after extensively studying Earth-Sol children’s television, the “Aliens” movies, and H. P. Lovecraft, that their races would be too scary-looking,” explained Sam. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_Lovecraft) “Yeah, a likely excuse.” You check your gear over. You have an alien-made GPS, a photocopied map from the 1950’s, a pad of paper, and a text-only mobile-phone. The only weapon you will be 269 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 carrying is a small Taser, in case anyone tries to abduct you. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taser) “So we’ve been chosen because the indigenous Hominids will see us as cute and fluffy?” “Basically. ” The spaceplane’s pilot calls back to you, “Ten minutes until you land!” “Aren’t you going with us?” you yell back. With only three of you on the spaceplane, you assumed that Chris, your pilot, would park the spaceplane in “invisible mode” and tag along. “Hell no,” answers Chris. “After dropping you off, we have three other Hominid planets to disclose to today.” Pause. “Why do I feel like a school-bus driver?” You ignore Chris’ quip. Sam jumps to Chris’ defence, “We’re landing five-thousand teams all at once, just incase the off-planet Hominids activate their defences, and decide to shoot us out of the skies. Chris has two chances be blown up, landing and taking off. We only have one! ” Chris yells back, “Screw you.” “That’s wonderful,” you comment. “How many off-planet Hominids are already living secretly in their society?” “We have no idea. We think maybe forty million.” Bweep. Bweep. Bweep.
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November 12, 2011 “We’re almost there,” yells Chris. “This is an intentional last-minute decision just incase the Hominid militaries are mind-reading us. Where do you want me to land?” “Your choice bud,” Sam says, looking at you.
Select one of the following choices:
“I want to land in a major city. I’ve never seen one before.” (Choice A-1) “An out-of-the-way city would be safer.” (Choice A-2)
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CHOICE A-1 (Go back to the previous choice, “Begin here”.)
“Don’t forget your lunches,” quips Chris, as Sam and you jump out of the spaceplane. You are deposited in Santa Monica, California, part of Los Angeles. The beach is only a few blocks away. The indigenous Hominid population, having never seen a spaceplane (which they call “you eff oh’s”) or an alien, quickly surround you. One Hominid man carrying a satchel, pulls out a small black-box from his pocket. He holds it up in front of him, as if to use it to ward-off evil spirits, and then presses a button on it. You hear a recorded click played from the device. The man looks at the small box and smiles. He rapidly presses about forty small-keys, and steps to the back of the queue. “What the fuck is going on?” you side-whisper to Sam. “I don’t know. Just stay calm, and back up against the building... very slowly.” A woman pulls a camera out of her purse, and photographs the two of you. “Should we smile?” another side-whisper. Sam doesn’t have time to respond. A different Hominid male hands his small black-box to the woman, and walks right up to you, where you both are standing against the wall. “Blah blah,” he says to the woman. Telepathy must be blocked. She nods, holds up his black-box, and you hear another click.
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November 12, 2011 Ignoring you, she walks up to the man and hands him his black box. He eagerly shows you the screen-side of his black box, which is displaying a digital photograph of Sam, you, and him. He says something, most-likely a thank-you, takes a quick close-up photo of your nose, and walks away. You spend the next two-hours posing for photographs in front of various buildings and street-signs.
Choose one of the following:
Something happens. (Choice B-3) Something else happens. (Choice B-4)
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CHOICE A-2 (Go back to the previous choice, “Begin here”.)
“Don’t forget your lunches,” quips Chris, as Sam and you jump out of the spaceplane. It’s night-time. No-one is on the streets. Small out-of-the-way cities are like that at night. Sam pulls out her map, and points to an intersection on it. The streetlamps provide just enough light to see the road-lines on the map. “We’re here,” she says. “I think.” You look at the map, not that the road-lines mean anything to you. “We need to find the nearest television station, and get ourselves interviewed. Military-intelligence thinks this town’s television station is over here.” The map indicates that the television station is two blocks away. “Let’s go,” you say. Sam leads you down a suburban street, lined with houses. Senses heightened, you expect to be accosted by Hominids at any moment. After walking a couple of blocks, and crossing a few silent streets, Sam looks at her map, and then the white concrete-block house in front of you. “No, I don’t think this is the television station.” “Should we knock?” Lost on an alien planet already.
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November 12, 2011 “Fuck. It’s time to cheat.” Sam pulls out her GPS, turns it on, and follows it back to your drop-off point. “This way. Follow me.” Two blocks in the opposite direction, you find yourself on a vacant night-time sidestreet, off of the town’s “Main Street”. The GPS points to a non-descript building. “This is where military-intelligence says the television-studio is.” All the lights are off inside the building. You try to open the door, not expecting anything. “It’s locked. What do we do now?” “I don’t know,” counters Sam. “We’ll just wait here until someone shows up in the morning.”
Choose one of the following:
Something happens. (Choice B-1) Something else happens. (Choice B-2)
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CHOICE B-1 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice A-2.)
The sun doesn’t rise for two hours. Only two cars drive past, neither Hominid driver seems to notice you. Just before dawn, the light turns-on inside the television station, and a Hominid man with keys opens-up the front door from within. He must have parked his automobile in the back. You wave at him. The man looks shocked. Then he looks you up-and-down. And then looks shocked again. Sam opens the door, and lets you in. The Hominid man backs-away as you enter. Recalling that Hominids smile at one-another, you try to smile. He looks shocked. That didn’t work. “What now?” you ask Sam. “He’s a television reporter. He should eventually decide to take out his video-camera and start interviewing us soon.” “Blah blah blah,” says the man. Your telepathic implants translate this to, “Who/what are you?” 276 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We are aliens,” you answer in your own language. Sam is tempted to raise both of her arms at right-angles, wiggle her fingers, and go “Ooo!” in a ghost-scary tone-of-voice. She doesn’t. The Hominid man doesn’t understand your response. He must have been expecting Greys. You pull-out your pad of paper, and draw a “Grey”-alien head. Then you point to yourself. “Blah blah blah,” from the man translates to, “You bear no family resemblance.” “He seems a bit dense,” comments Sam. Sam non-dangerously walks past him, and looks into the building’s rooms. “We’ll find the interview-room ourselves. He’ll get the hint.” The man tags along, wondering what we’re doing. The building only has three rooms, one-of-which is a toilet, the other an office, and the third is divided by a glass partition. Microphones are evident, but no video cameras. “I get it,” realized Sam. “Military INTELLIGENCE sent us to a RADIO station.” Sam pulls out here text-message box, and types a message in. A reply comes back two minutes later. “Only television station in [the] city,” reads Sam from the text-screen. “If [it is a] radio station, be creative.” “How are we supposed to do a radio interview if we don’t know their language?” Sam is exasperated. “I know. Turn on the television. Some of us should already be on the news.”
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November 12, 2011 The room has a small television. You fumble around the buttons and manage to turn it on. The man observes what you’re doing. Some other buttons lets you flip through the channels. Despite what you expect, none of the news channels are covering the disclosure event. An idea comes to you. You hold your paper pad with the sketch of a Grey’s head in front of the television. The Hominid man seems to “get it” and decides to interview you... which isn’t what you mean at all. What you really want to know, is why no television stations are coving the disclosure event. The man pulls out a microphone and audio-memory box. He turns it on. “Blah blah blah,” from him is translated to, “I am here with some strange aliens that look like [insert race-description here]. What are your names?” You speak your name. Sam leans over and speaks her name into the microphone. “Blah blah blah,” is translated into, “And where do you come from?” Sam says the name of your planet, not hers. “Blah blah blah blah,” is translated to, “What message do you have for the people of Earth? No. That sounds corny. Why did you land here? Washington D. C. is on the other side of the planet?” In the unlikely event that he understands your speech, you explain that you thought it would be [personally] safer to land in a small city. The man doesn’t understand a word you say.
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November 12, 2011 He asks three more trite questions before he realizes that he isn’t ever going to understand the two of you. He shuts off his recorder, and sets down his microphone. The radio-reporter abruptly wanders out of the room, and returns with a camera. You don’t comprehend how a digital image can be broadcast over radio, but maybe this planet has adjunct still-images mixed-in with the audio signal. The man gets a quick shot of the two of you sitting. Then he poses you in different locations throughout the building, as well as in different lighting conditions. Half-way through the photo-shoot, he remembers a camera feature. He spends a few minutes pressing buttons and swearing. From telepathic impressions, you deduce that he cannot figure out how to get the video-recording capability of his camera working. The man took charge of the situation when he began photographing you. He leads you into the office, where he sits down at his desk. The man turns on a hinged combination keyboard and computer terminal. He thoughtfully rotates the display in your direction, so you can watch as he works. You had expected to be plunked in front of a live radio-microphone for the interview. The man transfers the interview-audio from his audio-memory device to his computer. The same with the photographs. He E-mails them by pressing an envelope icon on his computer screen. The E-mail takes a minute to send, and then the computer starts beeping. It takes you awhile to understand what is happening. The beeping indicates that new E-mail is arriving. The E-mail must have been cached elsewhere in the planetary computernetwork while the computer-terminal was off. The radio-reporter reads the E-mail and says, “Crikey!” which translates to “Fucking shit!”
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November 12, 2011 As he reads the text of the incoming E-mails, he shows you the attached digital photographs. Fifty-ish E-mails arrive, half of which include photographs of other aliens from the “disclosure” team. “Blah blah blah,” translates to, “Oh well, so much for the scoop.” With his morning E-mail-read finished, the man pulls you two back into the recording studio to watch television. The news is still generic news, talking about the weather and the stock market. The man flips to another news station. It has no news either. “Blah blah,” translates to “What the fuck?” There is no coverage of disclosure in the mass-media. You spend the rest of the day with the news broadcaster. He takes a few more photographs of you. He eventually figures out the video-recording feature, and records a few videos. These, he E-mails, and then surveys the two-hundred new Emails he has received since the morning. The television, on all day, still shows no information about disclosure. Coverage must have been squelched by world governments. His shift over, the man double-checks the automated radio-broadcast feed; the town you’re in isn’t very large. All three of you pile into his car for the four-kilometre drive to his home.
Something happens. (Choice C-3) Something else happens. (Choice C-4)
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CHOICE B-2 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice A-2.)
The sun doesn’t rise for two hours. Only two cars drive past, neither Hominid driver seems to notice you. Sometime after sunrise, you begin expecting someone from the television station to show up and unlock the door. It doesn’t happen. In fact, so few automobiles have driven on the road, that you suspect it’s a holiday. Everyone in town must be sleeping-in. After sunrise, only one automobile drives past. The driver takes no notice of you. Two children in the back of the car wave to you though. You wave back. “Should we walk down to the Main Street and get someone to notice us?” you ask sarcastically. “Not yet,” answers Sam. “I’m not hungry enough. We’ll do that when we need [free] food.” You chuckle. Half an hour later, a Hominid man with keys opens-up the front door from within. He must have parked his automobile in the back. You wave at him. He looks at you, a bit puzzled, and then invites you inside with a wave.
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November 12, 2011 He says, “Blah blah blah,” which is translated by your implants to, “How many of you have landed?” Other landing teams must already have gotten onto the news. You answer, “Ten thousand.” “He won’t understand our language,” commented Sam. She holds-up 4 fingers in front of the Hominid man, digitally-symbolizing a one with 4 zeroes following it. Now he looks puzzled. A telepathic impression from him implies that he suspects that way-more than four aliens have landed. “Blah blah blah” translates to “Can you understand me?” “Yes,” answered Sam, shaking her head left-and-right. He looks puzzled again. “Blah blah,” is telepathically translated to, “Was that a yes or a no?” “Yes,” answers Sam, without shaking her head. “Blah blah blah blah,” translates to “No good. I got it! As a test, raise your right hand.” You raise your right arm. From the sly look on Sam’s face, you can see that she is thinking about raising her left arm. She gives-in to practicality, and also raises her right arm. “Blah blah blah” translates into “You can understand me, but I can’t understand you. I get it.” “Blah blah”... “Follow me.” The television-reporter leads you into a room divided in half by a glass window. He turns on a small television. 283 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The video shows various clips of spaceplanes landing and depositing “disclosure” team-members. Interviews with team-members are also shown, interspersed with talking Hominid-heads. Unhappily, video-clips also show spaceplane crashes in numerous cities, along with some destroyed Hominid buildings. The off-planet Hominids must-have activated their planetary defences. How many had died? The television-news doesn’t say. All of the television channels have news coverage. You watch television for a few hours. Meanwhile, the television-man makes a few phone-calls. After hanging up, the man says, “I am going to drive you to the mayor.” The man turns-off the television, and leads you out the back of the building, to his automobile. You hop in, and get driven eight kilometres to a house. It is one story, made out of cement blocks. A man and woman walk out of the house to greet you. You follow them into their kitchen. Two of their children stare at you, mouth-agape, and then go back to watching television coverage of “disclosure”. “Blah blah blah,” the mayor says to the television reporter. “Can they understand me?” “Blah blah,” ... “Yes, but we can’t understand them.” “Blah blah,” ... “No problems.” The mayor holds up a hand for us to wait. He picks up his phone, and begins making phone-calls. After a few minutes, the mayor’s wife invites you into the living room to watch the news. She, the television reporter, the two children, and both of you spend half-an-hour watching more news coverage. From new statistics shown on the television, you learn that several-dozen spaceplanes were visibly shot-down. The news-reporters think they crashed 284 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 accidentally. You know that invisible spaceplanes that crash might not be included in the preliminary statistics. At least five-hundred teams landed successfully. There is no indication how complete and/or reliable the statistics are. The mayor finishes with his phone-calls and spends another half-an-hour explaining the situation to you. The military doesn’t need any more aliens. They have enough. The politicians wouldn’t mind some more aliens at the capital. But, there are no government airplanes available to fly you to the capital. They’re already all in the air, transporting aliens. So are all of the private airplanes in the region. The locals were all hired-out three hours ago. No airplanes were left in town. Commercial jet aircraft were still flying, but a valid photo-ID would be required to board one. The mayor could get some photo-IDs printed-up, but the airline might not accept them as valid. Government officials in Canberra, the local government seat, suggested that the mayor hop in his car and drive you there. It would be a two-and-a-half day journey by automobile, and then two-and-a-half days back for him. Unless we wanted to camp beside the highway tonight, and the mayor didn’t want to camp, we’d begin our road trip tomorrow... maybe... perhaps... something else might come up. Consequently, the mayor had invited some friends over for an early tea (dinner). They’d be arriving in a few hours. You spend the next few hours watching television and talking with the adults. Sam takes a shower.
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November 12, 2011 Four of the mayor’s friends arrive, and take a few photographs of you two. While you’re talking and sketch-pad-conversing with the mayor’s friends, he and his wife cook-up some snags (hot-dogs). The snags are served on bread slices, with accompanying sliced-up fruit. The neighbours stop-by after dinner. You get to sleep a few hours after dark.
...
A couple of hours before sunrise, the telephone rings. Everyone in the house wakes-up and listens, as the mayor groggily talks to someone for fifteen minutes. The mayor walks into the living-room, where you and Sam were sleeping. “Blah blah blah,” ... “They have an airplane for you. I need to drive you to the airport now.” No road trip? Oh well, you have never been in airplane. That should be an adventure. Sam comments that she was in a biplane when she was a child. You pack-up your gear while the mayor puts on his clothes. You’re in the airport fifteen minutes later. As you board the single-propeller airplane, the mayor takes a parting photograph, just before sunrise.
Something happens. (Choice C-5)
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November 12, 2011 Something else happens. (Choice C-6)
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CHOICE B-3 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice A-1.)
After posing for nearly one-hundred mobile-phone photographs, that’s what the little black-boxes are, the two of you are approached by someone with a really-huge camera. A man with a microphone-on-a-pole tags along, as well as a well-dressed woman. “These are professional television-crew people,” speculates Sam. “We’re supposed to find some and get on television.” Your telepathic translator-implants haven’t worked so far. They certainly don’t work when the Hominid woman walks up to you and says, “Blah blah blah.” The videocamera, resting on the man’s shoulder and pointing directly at you, is obviously recording. “Uh,” you look at Sam, “I don’t understand.” “Bleh bleh bleh,” says the woman. “No, I don’t understand.” Sam pulls out her pad of paper and scribbles something on it. “What are you drawing?” you ask. “Anything... a picture of a disc-spaceplane, I think. It’ll keep them busy so we can get on television.” Sam hands the sketched image to the woman, who says, “Blah blah blah” to the cameraman. She displays the sketch in front of the camera, and then says “Blah blah” back so Sam. “You don’t know what she said, do you?” you verify with Sam. 288 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “No clue. Can you draw anything?” “I used to be obsessed with drawing flowers when I was in the third grade.” Sam smiles. “They have flowers here. That won’t impress them enough.” “How about some mathematical equations?” “Fuck,” says Sam. “I barely remember algebra.” Sam takes the pad back from the woman and writes an important-looking mathematical equation. “I think that’s the equation for the derivative of tangent(x).” The reporter is impressed. She holds the pad vertical for another video-shot, and then motions for Sam and you to follow her. She holds-onto your upper-arm to ensure that you don’t get lost. The news camera-crew leads you half-way down the block to a panel-van. The woman reporter opens the sliding door and motions for you to get in. You both hop in, along with the reporter and cameraman. During the car-ride through town, you are videoed while the woman tries to communicate with you through sketches. Twenty minutes later, you arrive in the underground parking-lot of a tall building. The woman ushers you into an elevator, and up to the fourteenth floor, the cameraman filming the entire time. You are led into the television-studio’s offices, and directly into a cushion-seated waiting-room. Other Hominids in the office clap quietly at the woman as she passes, the two of you in front. A large television is turned-on, watched by three Hominid men and women. They gave you odd looks when you first arrive, and smile “congratulations” to the reporter woman. You are motioned to sit down. Someone brings you sodas and turkey-wrap sandwiches. 289 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 You spend the next few hours watching television news-coverage of “The day that disclosure happened – a special report”, while trying to talk with the Hominids that walk in. Your translator implants still don’t work. You scribble through a ream of paper, and two pens. Television-broadcasts show spaceplanes of all sorts landing. Yours was naturally extradimensional, so anyone watching you land would only have seen a doorway. Several videos of hovering-and-landing pure-silver three-dimensional discs are televised. Only a few still-images of doorway landings are shown. Later in the day, an amateur video of a “disclosure” team-pair jumping out of their fog-producing extradimensional-doorway makes it onto the news. Interviews of “disclosure” team-members are interlaced with spaceplane videos. Located on different parts of the planet, their telepathy translator-implants must not have been blocked. Several times, you are ushered out of the waiting-room and into an official interviewroom. You are videoed pointing at spaceplanes on a television monitor, and redrawing some of your better illustrations. You learn how to say “Yes” and “No” in English when cued; finger-up from the director means that you say “Yes”, finger-left means you say “No”. At the end of the work-day, well into the night, one of the Hominid televisionemployees walks into the lounge. You had dozed off. After fifteen minutes of backand-forth sketches, he manages to ask you the simple question, “Do you want to sleep in the studio here tonight? Or do you want to stay in my nearby apartment? I have a spare bedroom and a spare couch.”
“We want to stay at the studio for the night.” (Choice C-7) “Thanks. We’ll go home with you.” (Choice C-8)
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CHOICE B-4 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice A-1.)
After posing for mobile-phone photographs for an hour – that’s what the little blackboxes are – someone gestures to you that they wish to take you on a tour of the area. “Wait a minute!” you think. The telepathy jammers must have been turned off. If that’s the case, most of the Hominids won’t be able to understand you, but you should be able to get the gist of what they’re speaking. Sam and you follow the woman, why not. You are tired of being photographed. The woman first guides you into a shopping mall. Surprisingly, you aren’t swarmed by camera-phones there. Two other “disclosure” team-pairs are already working the beat, one in the food court, and one in front of a department store. The woman invites you to select whatever food you want from the food-court restaurants. Hopefully she’s paying, because you don’t have any money. Having been on a spaceplane for the last half-year, fighting the war, all of the fast-food meals look good... except the meals with noodles. Space-food engineers are overly-fond of noodle meal-accompaniments. You select a hamburger by pointing to the picture. Sam goes for a doughnut. Everyone gets fresh fruit-juice. The Hominid woman thankfully pays. She seems to anticipate your situation: She purchases your food first. Then the fruitjuice, which is just outside of the food court. And then she’s leading you out of the mall, away from the lunch crowds, and the swarms of cameras. She leads you two blocks to the beach. You eat as you walk. Unfortunately, no “disclosure” aliens seem to be working the beach scene, so photographers swarm you. They alternatively have photographs taken of themselves 291 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 standing along-side you, or holding odd items like Frisbees. Someone even tries to get you photographed wearing their rollerblades, but the shoes don’t fit your feet. You haven’t been to a beach for over a year, not since you were conscripted into the military. Sam has never been on a beach. She wraps-up a handful of sand into your hamburger wrapper, to begin an alien-planet beach-sand collection. It’s about that point that the fun ends. A military truck with soldiers parks by the side of the road. Uh oh. Should you run? No. A few armed soldiers walk up to you, the crowd, and the woman. She begins to protest, but you shoo her away... She gets the point. The two of you are led into the back of a large canvas truck. The two alien-pairs working the mall are also there, burritos and cokes in hand. They wave hello. After picking up a few other “disclosure” team-members, you get a scenic bus-ride out of Los Angeles and into a military facility. After the truck stops, your group is separated into your original pairs. Each pair is led into separate rooms. Yours has two chairs, and a table. A Hominid soldier-man brings you some coffee and prefabricated cookies. Then you wait. Eventually, an officer shows up. His “Blah blah blah” is translated by your implants into “Can you understand me?” “Yes,” you answer in your own language. 292 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 His response of “Blah blah,” is translated to, “Was that a yes or a no?” Hmm. A logic puzzle. If you had answered “No” for the first question, would it be logically-correct to answer “Yes” for the second question? Sam has a simpler solution. She pulls out her sketch-pad and draws a cartoon of the man speaking. Some wavy lines indicating sound waves, with some text over them to indicate words. She redraws the text to indicate a translation, as well as wavy lines going into her skull, instead of into her ear. The man gets it. All that time playing Pictionary has paid off, he thinks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pictionary) “Can you understand me?” telepaths Sam. “Blah blah” ... “Yes, I can.” “Good,” she telepaths. “You have better-quality implants than the other people we have met.” The officer is surprised. “Blah blah”... “How do I have implants? Was I ever abducted?” “Most-likely not. Implants can be invisibly-inserted into your brain when you sleep.” “Blah,” translates to “Oh.” “If you just think hard, we’ll understand you. You don’t have to speak.” “Got it,” he thought. “That cleared up, I have some questions for you.” “They’re not going to like this.” “Oops, was that telepathed?” “I hope not.” “Why are you here?” Sam answers. “We are here to get some photographs of ourselves taken, and to try and contact the public media or government.” The officer, Jake, writes down the answer.
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November 12, 2011 “Where is your UFO?” “Our pilot flew-off with it. He’s doing three other disclosures today.” “On this planet?” “No, some other Hominid planets in the area.” Jake writes some more. “Oh, so we’re not alone.” “No, there are at least 50,000 of you.” Surprise. “Just out of curiosity, what number are we in the cue?” (As I am writing this choicefiction, I (Mike) have been informed that 109 “disclosures” have-been initiated since the beginning of the war.) “I have no idea.” Some more word-scribbles from Jake. “Are you the leader of this operation?” Sam lightens the mood. “No, we’re just grunts here for the free food.” Jake doesn’t believe us... about the being “grunts”. More writing on his pad. “Why did some of your UFOs crash?” “Crash!? We didn’t hear about that.” I interrupted, “Can we watch some television-news to see what happened?” Jake, “No, I’m afraid you’re in [an information/news] blackout.” 294 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Are there any leader-aliens with you?” “I don’t know,” answers Sam. Jake writes down Sam’s answer. “That’s all I need for now. I’ll be back sometime later today.” Jake is thinking that his priority is to find a leader-alien, and to talk to them. Jake walks out the door, forgetting to say goodbye. He closes the door behind him. The two of you finish the packet of prefabricated cookies. An hour later, four military-police with truncheons and guns show up. They are distinctly less-friendly than Jake, who was less-friendly than the people in the shopping mall. The military-police lead you down a few corridors, out the building, and into a holding cell. A dozen other “disclosure” team-members are also there. You are stripped of all of your possessions, including Sam’s beach-sand collection. Something must have gone wrong.
You can be nice to the guards. (Choice C-1) Or, you can demand to be released. (Choice C-2)
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CHOICE C-1 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-4.)
A few hours after you are locked into the holding cell, some staff brings the group sandwiches and cans of liquid. You make sure to telepath a “Thank you” to the people when they hand you the food. You don’t know if they receive the telepathicsentence though. The sandwich isn’t as good as this morning’s fare, but it beats space-station readymeals. The carbonated drink is a bit different. You go to sleep for the night. The next morning, more food is brought in. This time it’s eggs, ham, and fruit-juice on a tray. You hand the server a nicely-folded sandwich wrapper, and crushed can of Coke. Once one bored alien learns how to stand on can of Coke and crush it flat, all of them do. Then you wait. After a lunch of a chicken-and-lettuce salad with ranch dressing (and a bottled water), a guard stops by, and unlocks your cell. You make sure to bring your neatlycleaned plastic salad containers with artistically-enclosed water-bottles. Waterbottles don’t crush neatly like Coke cans. You are led down the hall and into an interrogation room. “Blah blah blah” from the non-Jake interrogator translates to “Are you the ones that said there were 50,000 planets being disclosed to?” “Yes.” “Blah blah blah” ... “What is happening on the other planets?”
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November 12, 2011 “We don’t know. Usually it...” Sam whack-nudges you. “No, I’ll say this. Usually it isn’t good. The off-planet Hominids like causing trouble.” “Blah blah blah”... “Who are the off-planet Hominids?” “You don’t know yet?” The man nods left-and-right in response. That might mean “No.” “They are people that look just like you, except they were born on another planet.” “Blah” ... “And you say they’re here?” “Yes, loads of them. They are ALWAYS present on non-disclosed Hominid and other low-tech planets, pretending to be low-tech people.” The interrogator squints at you. “Blah blah,” ... “And who are they, specifically?” “I don’t know. They look just like you. You could be one, for all I know.” Lip-pucker from the man. “Blah blah,” ... “No, I’d be long-gone from this planet if I weren’t from here.” The man writes some notes. “Blah blah blah blah,” ... “Thank you, that’s all for now. We’ll return you to your cell.” The man walks you back to your holding cell. Later that night, you miss dinner because the two of you are pulled out of your cell, and taken back to the interrogation room. This time, the interrogator is there, along with someone in civilian clothes.
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November 12, 2011 The civilian begins, “Blah blah blah blah” ... “Hello, my name is Bill. I’m sorry for the accommodation. Some of you are complaining about it, I here.” “The food is good,” you add positively. “Blah blah blah blah,” “That’s nice to hear. I have a few questions. Simply put, what the hell is going on?” “We’re here to appear on television.” “Blah blah blah,” ... “No, not that part. All of our communications are down, everywhere on the planet. Fibre is down. Radio doesn’t work. Lasers get blocked within a few minutes. Our radar-encrypted signals don’t work either.” Sam answers, “The off-planet Hominids must be blocking communications.” “Blah blah,” ... “Are you sure it’s not you guys?” “It could be. I wouldn’t expect it though,” answers Sam. “Blah blah blah” ... “Thank you,” he answers. “Unfortunately, you need to return to your cell.” Two days later, after being fed meals of beef burgundy, pizza, and lasagne, you are escorted out of your cell and into an office. The civilian man is sitting there. He resumes the conversation, this time not bothering to speak. “All communications are down. We are having to fly propeller-aircraft between bases with messages written on paper. I am jokingly trying to source some carrier-pigeons.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrier_pigeon) Grimace on Sam’s part. “Some of our aircraft have been shot down.” Surprise. “By whom?” asks Sam. 298 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We don’t know.” “Humans in UFOs have landed everywhere. They claim they are here to help.” The civilian continues, “At the same time, shadow-figures in the shape of giant insects or human-reptiles are seen wandering through Los Angeles at night.” Sam is quick to answer, “Crap. The shadow-figures must be special-forces in military encounter-suits. Has an infantry-war begun yet?” “Infantry war!? Whatever happened to “We come in peace?”” “WE come in peace. The off-planet Hominids don’t want us here, since this is their planet, and you are their civilians.” You add, “Have any of your co-workers been acting funny? Impeding workflow? They could be off-planet Hominids?” This time the “civilian” man grimaces. “No comment.” He thinks a moment. “What do you recommend I do?” he asks.
“Do what you can to impeded the off-planet Hominids.” (Choice D-3) “Do nothing. Take no action against either party. Don’t get involved.” (Choice D-4)
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CHOICE C-2 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-4.)
A few hours after you are locked in the holding cell, some staff brings the group sandwiches and cans of liquid. Your sandwich isn’t as good as this morning’s fare, but it beats space-station readymeals. The carbonated drink is a bit different. You go to sleep for the night. The next morning, more food is brought in. This time it’s eggs, ham, and fruit-juice on a tray. Then you wait. After a lunch of a chicken-and-lettuce salad with ranch dressing (and a bottled water), a guard stops by, and unlocks your cell. You are led down the hall and into an interrogation room. “Blah blah blah” from the non-Jake interrogator translates into “Are you the ones that said there were 50,000 planets being disclosed to?” “Yes” “Blah blah blah” ... “What is happening on the other planets?” “We don’t know. Usually it...” Sam whack-nudges you. “We don’t know.”
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November 12, 2011 Sam interrupts, “Can we have our communication-boxes back so we can contact base?” “Blah blah,” ... “No, I’m afraid not.” “Are we being held as prisoners of war?” “Blah,” ... “No, you’re not.” “Then we’d like our communication-boxes at some point, please.” The man changes subjects. “Blah blah blah”... “Who are the off-planet Hominids?” “They look just like you. For all we know, you might be one.” The man scribbles something down on paper. “Thank you, that’s all.” You are led back to your cell. A week later, you are loaded into a truck, along with other “disclosure” teammembers. Your group is driven through the desert for half a day. When the truck stops, you are escorted into a large building with dormitory-style rooms, a television room, and a cafeteria. Hundreds of “disclosure” team-members are already interred there. You spend several months at the facility. Telepathy is blocked. You have no news from home, nor any news from Earth-Sol television. One morning, some detonations are heard at the compound. For stunning effect, the building’s door is blown open by a small grenade. A platoon of Arthropods shows up, part of the multiracial “disclosure” team. They have a rescue-spaceplane waiting, for you. 301 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As you are boarding the spaceplane, you telepathically hear one of the Arthropods talking to another-one, “This disclosure isn’t going well, obviously. Disclosure-planets #5431 and #5895 aren’t yet at war. Most are worse-off. They [the Hominids] halfnuked #4997 in revenge. “It’s the principle of the matter,” they say.”
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-3 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-1.)
The radio-broadcaster’s home is a single-story cement-block house, with airconditioning running full-bore. The inside is slippery white-tile, with light-lavender walls, and a white stucco-ceiling. The front door enters into a combination livingroom and dining room. As soon as he enters his house, the man turns on his flat-panel television with a remote-control. He flips to a news-station, but it only reports mundane news. Meanwhile, the man’s E-mail inbox is full of person-to-person “disclosure” news. The mass-media is still squelched. You follow the man into the kitchen; Sam wanders around the house. He pulls-out a large pot, fills it with water, and heats the water on a gas-jet cook-top. From his refrigerator emerges a box of yellowish sticks, and a plastic container with a red goo. “This isn’t good,” grumbles Sam from another room. She walks into the kitchen, reading her text-message box. “Yellow-rocks [your planet] received [a] retaliatory nuclear strike because [of our] participation in disclosure on this planet [Earth-Sol]. 100-million estimated dead. [You are needed elsewhere.] We will pick [you] up at 43:23 [sunset]”. What!? You don’t know how you should react. You should feel enraged, worried, and sad, but until you see the damage, the emotions won’t kick in. While your mind spins with the news, Sam keeps her head. She walks outside the front-door to see if there is enough clearance for the spaceplane. You look out from inside. The street is quite wide. There are some trees along-side the road, and behind the houses, but they shouldn’t affect landing. Sam types something into her text-message box, and sends it off. 303 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Just as Sam is returning, the man steps out of his kitchen, and looks to see why Sam went outside. With telepathy disabled, you can’t easily tell him what is about to happen. It might be more fun for him if he’s surprised. You do make sure that he has his camera handy. He left it on the kitchen counter, but you surreptitiously move it to the diningroom table when he sets it up for dinner. Half-way through dinner, you hear the rumble-hum of the spaceplane. You hand the man his camera. He doesn’t know why. Sam heads over to the front door. You follow, and motion to the man. Outside is the materialized doorway of a spaceplane, with fog-effects and all. After entering the spaceplane, you turn around and wave to the man. Hopefully he will get some good photographs. After the spaceplane door closes, you re-recall that you dis-accidentally left your GPS and Taser behind, on the kitchen countertop.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-4 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-1.)
The radio-broadcaster’s home is a single-story cement-block house, with airconditioning running full-bore. The inside is slippery white-tile, with light-lavender walls, and a white stucco-ceiling. The front door enters into a combination livingroom and dining room. As soon as he enters his house, the man turns on his flat-panel television with a remote-control. He flips to a news-station, but it only reports mundane news. Meanwhile, the man’s E-mail inbox is full of person-to-person “disclosure” news. The mass-media is still squelched. You follow the man into his kitchen; Sam wanders around the house. The man pullsout a large pot, fills it with water, and heats the water on a gas-jet cook-top. From his refrigerator emerges a box of yellowish sticks, and a plastic container with a red goo. The toilet flushes. Sam enters the kitchen. Both of you watch the man cook dinner. A quarter of an hour later, the three of you take your plates of pasta into the diningroom, where you watch television until midnight. The man also has his laptop turned-on. Every-time he checks for new mail, he receives more photographs of aliens and their spacecraft. But the television still has no news. You sleep in the living-room, with the television on, but muted. Morning dawns. Neither of you packed a toothbrush – your first waking thought. Your second thought is to glance at the television, which now shows coverage of a spaceplane hovering above a city. 305 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And then shows interviews with some members of the “disclosure” team. That’s a relief. The news-blackout has finally ended. Maybe everything will go well. It didn’t! Two minutes later, the news shows a few detonated skyscrapers. And then amateur video of a small nuke going-off in the middle of a high-rise city. The news slowmotion zooms-in on a pixelated semi-transparent silver disc-spaceplane near the high-rise. The explosion happens. The spaceplane zooms-off at lightning speed, immediately after the explosion. That wasn’t good. Not at all. What happened? You wake up Sam, and tell her the news. She turns up the television volume. Fifteen minutes later, the same scene is rebroadcast. “What happened?” you ask Sam. “Wait. I’ll check my text-message box.” Sam types something into her box. The scene replays, along with some more updates. Interview-video of members of the “disclosure” team includes audio of them speaking, “That wasn’t our spaceplane. We are sorry about your city being attacked.” A quiet beep, and Sam reads her text-message display. “[Off-planet] Hominids attacked [a] city-centre to make it look like we attacked, and are [part of an] invasion fleet. Stay calm.” Your conversation and the un-muted television must have woken-up the radio broadcaster. You still don’t know his name. 306 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He walks in, and watches the television with interest. Sam pulls out her sketch-pad and communicates the “disclosure” team’s point-ofview about the attack. She shows it to the man, who maybe-perhaps comprehends the sketch. He speaks something, “Blah blah blah”... There is no translation! The off-planet Hominids have turned on telepathy blockers. Crap! That makes things more difficult. After fifteen minutes of sketching, Sam visually explains that telepathy translation is now blocked. The three of you exchange sketches for the next few hours. The news-media is saying that the “disclosure” team is an invasion-force, and that the nuking of the city proves it. Several officials from government intelligenceagencies are interviewed on television, explaining the attack. Your host obviously isn’t very happy about his planet being attacked. With many aborted sketches, he eventually sketch-explains that, from his point-of-view, he doesn’t know if he should trust you or not. “You guys show up, and all of the sudden New-York-City is attacked by a UFO.” With even more sketches, you and Sam try to explain that the disc-spaceplane was piloted by Hominids from another planet.
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November 12, 2011 He doesn’t quite believe this. How could Hominids be on other planets? Nor does he believe that they would intentionally be trying to undermine disclosure.
Something happens. (Choice D-5) Something else happens. (Choice D-6)
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-5 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-2.)
The propeller-airplane ride lasts all day. You land and take-off twice for refuelling. As you approach the capital’s airport-runway, you spot a large triangular spaceplane parked off to the side. The airplane lands and taxis to the small-airplane parking area. Soon after stopping, a large four-wheel-drive automobile drives up. A man hops out and invites the two of you in. The airplane pilot, Glen, gets a last photograph of you, and then waves goodbye. Your trip to the triangle spaceplane is a short one. It is manned by Hominids dressed in blue military-uniforms. They have guns. You are escorted onto the spaceplane, where a dozen other “disclosure” teammembers are waiting. Their wrists are twist-tied. Early in the morning, the spaceplane takes off. A few days later, you are notified by a Hominid ombudsmen that you are prisoners of war. Within a month, you are sold into slavery.
– The end – 309 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-6 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-2.)
The propeller-airplane ride lasts all day. You land and take-off twice for refuelling. Your plane lands on the capital’s airport-runway. It taxis to the small-airplane parking area. Soon after stopping, an automobile drives up. A man hops out and invites the two of you in. The airplane pilot, Glen, gets a last photograph of you, and then waves goodbye. You are driven into the city, and to a hotel room. Telepathy translation works. On the way, the talkative driver, Kyle, tells you that he has been shuttling aliens back-and-forth to hotels all day. Unfortunately, you will be confined to your hotel room, for the most-part. The local Hominids working with the aliens, have also taken up the moniker, “the disclosure team”. They see themselves as an impromptu sister-organization. The Hominid team-members have been assigning an alien-pair to every parliamentarian, and two pairs to parliamentarians in the underemployed opposition. So many aliens have shown-up over the past two days, that all of the spare-bedrooms in all the parliamentarians’ houses are full. You are left unassigned. You reach your hotel, and are escorted up to your room. You are provided a card-key for unlocking your hotel door, a high-tech gadget that you have never seen on other planets. Your room has a single bed, unfortunately. There is a toilet, shower, balcony, a small fridge, and “free” food. Oh yes, and a television that you turn on. Guards are posted in the alien-assigned hallways to prevent you from leaving, but you can wander through the hallways and talk to other “disclosure” team311 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 members. Since personal weapons are not allowed in the country, you have to give up your Tasers. The short orientation over-with, you close the room’s door, turn-on the television to 240-hour-a-day coverage of “disclosure”, and fall asleep. The next morning, sixteen of you are woken-up by a delivery of fast-food breakfasts, egg-and-ham on a bread roll, with a coffee or orange-juice. After eating, you wander-out into the hallway and find other “disclosure” team members. Most of them have been here for two days already, having gotten carrides from neighbouring cities. They all report a generally-good experience. One pair actually made it to a television station, and was extensively interviewed. Their interview doesn’t seem to have made it onto television yet... a bit disappointing. Lunch is sandwiches with a choice of meats, and bottled water. In the afternoon, a Hominid woman stops-by and takes you for a driving-tour around the capital. Some of the attractions of the city are pointed out, such as a museum and interesting buildings. She notes that any other major city in the country would have been a more-interesting place to be holed-up. Even the middle-of-nowhere town where you landed. Unfortunately, no-one has enough time to escort you through the city’s attractions, so you’ll have to wait for a few days. You spend several weeks in the hotel. You eventually visit the museum, zoo, and get a tour of the wilderness outside of the city. From watching television, and talking to other team-members, who have their own personal parliamentarians leaking classified information to them, you learn that representatives of all the countries on the planet are in talks with the off-planet Hominids. The world governments didn’t know the off-planet Hominids were on the planet. Now that aliens obviously exist, representatives of the off-planet Hominids are meeting and negotiating with indigenous world-leaders. 312 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The resident off-planet Hominids see the “disclosure” team as an invasion-force, and want you removed from the planet. The same views are expressed by the interplanetary Hominid governments. Since spaceplane traffic on-and-off the planet has been halted by the off-planet Hominid militaries, some of the “disclosure” teammembers are acting as political envoys for the multiracial non-Hominids. Indigenous-Hominid world-leaders have quite a lot to learn, understand, and decide.
Something happens. (Choice D-1) Something else happens. (Choice D-2)
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-7 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-3.)
You spend the night in the news-room’s lounge. It is difficult to sleep with the lights on, but every time you turn the lights off, you are woken by a random news-team member, currently working around-the-clock. They open the door to the lounge to have a rest, turn on the lights, and see you sleeping. Oops, they must think. They turn-off the lights, and silently close the door. Since sunlight never enters the lounge, you awake for the day when someone knocks, and delivers you coffee and bagels. Telepathy is still blocked. Neither you nor Sam have ever been in a news studio. A woman gives you a tour around the studio, where you watch news-feeds coming-in from all-over the planet. Every feed-channel in every satellite is overbooked. From all of the swearwords and gestures directed at computers sending and receiving E-mails, you guess that the planet’s computer-communication network is overloaded also. From surveys of the news-feeds, you conclude that “disclosure” team-members have landed everywhere on the planet, except the frozen continent in the south-pole. You watch a computer-graphics specialist produce eye-candy maps of the planet, using icons to show where “disclosure” team-members landed. You spend a few days helping him make computer-graphics models and animations of spaceplanes, cities you have visited, as well as your sister’s house. The computermodelling people are very interested in technology items, as well maps of the galaxies. Since neither you nor Sam have any clue as to the political and racial layout of the galaxies, you fill in your knowledge-gaps with your imagination. You even invent an alien race, or two.
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November 12, 2011 A few reporters interview you via sketch-pad. Your interviews don’t seem to get aired, though. News-feed interviews are better, because telepathy is not blocked on other parts of the planet. Interviewers there can actually communicate with interviewees. Ultimately, the news-staff use you as test interviewees before they flyoff to not-blocked remote countries. When they arrive, your news-station’s reporters do their alien-interviews, and E-mail the videos back to Los Angeles. Your text-message boxes occasionally work, despite Hominid communicationsblocking. Base asks you to stay-on at the newsroom to answer questions the reporters and staff have, as well as to monitor news-feeds. Over the next few weeks, the news-feeds and sketch-pad Pictionary sessions indicate that world-leaders are meeting independently, and as a group. Many ultra top-secret votes are taken. Their results are leaked to the mass-media an hour after the ultra top-secret votes have been tallied. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pictionary) You hear “the announcement” first, as a news-feed arrives at the news-station. You text-message the announcement to base.
“Earth’s indigenous Human leadership realizes that “disclosure” is a contentious issue between non-Humans, and Humans that live on other planets. We do not wish our planet to be turned into a war-zone. Earth’s governments have collectively decided to abort “disclosure”. All nonHuman aliens are requested to leave until tensions have cooled-down.” You decide not to correct the mixed-metaphor at the end of the official announcement.
Two days later, “disclosure” team-members begin leaving. News-feeds report that a few-thousand indigenous Hominids sneak-out with them. You are not allowed to leave until nearly everyone-else has been evacuated. Your location in the news-room is too-critical. 315 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A month after the announcement, your friends at the television-station film your spaceplane taking-off. Two Hominids from the newsroom somehow manage to stow themselves away. A couple text-message boxes (yours) are left behind, so the stowaways can transmit their reports back to their news-colleagues on Earth.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE C-8 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice B-3.)
You take the elevator down to the parking garage. The man drives you to his apartment. It takes half an hour. The three of you groggily stumble into his apartment, and rapidly fall-asleep. Three hours later, the man’s alarm-clock goes off. He wakes you up, and drives you back to the news-room. Telepathy is still blocked. You spend the day watching television news-feeds, and helping computer-graphics people model and animate spaceplanes. That night, the same staff-member takes you back to his apartment. Not being nearly as exhausted as the previous evening, the man remembers to tell you that his name is Mark. On the way home, he pulls his car up next to a fast-food restaurant-building, and picks up hamburgers and soft-drinks through a small window. Once again, you crash-out in Mark’s apartment. Mark leaves you in his apartment the next day, where you watch television, eat all of his pasta, and play video-games. The television news-room has no real use for you over the next few weeks, so Mark leaves you at home during the day... with an apartment key. You wander around town while he is out. Most people have seen enough aliens by now that they are merely curious. With some of the cash that Mark lends/gives you, you purchase meals, buy supplies for an evening dinner, and pick up souvenirs for friends and relatives. One day, Mark returns home with an official text-announcement from world governments. He spends half-an-hour sketch-translating it for you.
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November 12, 2011 “Earth’s indigenous Human leadership realizes that “disclosure” is a contentious issue between non-Humans, and Humans that live on other planets. We do not wish our planet to be turned into a war-zone. Earth’s governments have collectively decided to abort “disclosure”. All nonHuman aliens are requested to leave until tensions have cooled-down.”
A few days later, your text-message box informs you that you will be flown off the planet in a few weeks. The exact pick-up date is not yet known. Before you are assigned a specific flight out, Mark offers to hide you on Earth-Sol if you wish. Apparently, many of the “disclosure”-team aliens are staying behind, hiding in people’s homes. To emphasize the point, Mark brings home a DVD of “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ET_the_Extra-Terrestrial) You decide to stay. Base cannot condone your decision, but if your text-message device somehow gets lost, you might miss your spaceplane-flight off. Evacuation spaceplane flights are expected to cease in 30 days. Your text-message device is temporarily lost in the bottom of Mark’s underwear drawer whenever base tries to beep you; he’s an alien-gadget kleptomaniac. Oh well.
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November 12, 2011 You spend the next few months hiding in Mark’s Glendale apartment. At night, your get clandestine car-rides to safe-houses for socialization, parties, and pizza. A secret underground network of aliens and alien-hiders slowly emerges. Living near Hollywood, you make some under-the-counter cash-earnings by appearing in movies and television shows, saving computer-animators the effort of animating your race.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-1 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-6.)
Everyone on the planet has seen weeks of 240-hour-a-day news-coverage of the alien “disclosure” effort. News-broadcasts now show video-articles about how Hominids from other planets have been living and hiding on Earth for nearly a century. Some resident off-planet Hominids are interviewed in silhouette, admitting that they have to maintain secrecy for fear of their lives. One afternoon, you hear that the President of the United States is going to make a live broadcast around noon US-time. Midnight Australia-time. World-leaders around the globe will simultaneously live-broadcast their own national announcements, all at the same time. Some of the aliens in the “disclosure” team understand enough English to translate television-shows for everyone else. Normally spending their day translating children’s television shows to your language, they are assigned translation-duties for the Presidential announcement. Everyone watches. The President of the United States walks up to the podium. “Blah blah blah,” spoken by the televised-President is verbally translated by a “disclosure” team-member. “He says lots of words that basically mean, “Hi there!”” “Blah blah blah blah blah blah,” is translated to, “The President of the United States says that we have caused a lot of problems here.” A cheer goes up in your room. Someone from next-door’s television-viewing peeks in, and wonders if their translator-person missed something. 320 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “No, it was only Jen being comedic.” Another five minutes of “Blah blah blah” formalities are translated into new jokes by Jen. Your room begins to fill, as people leave the less-comedic television-room. Jen is too-slow translating the most-important “Blah blah blah.” She begins to speak the translation, “Hominid militaries from other planets...” Booing and hissing from the other room interrupt her. Jen looks irate; her thunder has been stolen. She says sadly, “Hominid militaries from other planets will be allowed to land on Earth-Sol, and be included as part of a multinational peacekeeping force.” Everyone boos and hisses.
The peacekeeping forces prevent large-scale violence, although strong tensions (Weasel-word alert!) exist between the non-Hominids and the off-planet Hominid peacekeepers. Slightly-weaker tensions quickly form in Earth’s indigenous Hominid population.
Within ten years, 10% of Earth-Sol’s population has emigrated off the planet. Approximately, 5% flee to the non-Hominid side, and 5% emigrate to other Hominid planets. Meanwhile, Hominids from other planets migrate to Earth-Sol in increasing numbers. After a few years, nearly everyone who wants to emigrate from Earth-Sol to nonHominid planets has done-so. Non-Hominid “disclosure” team-members do their tourist-rounds to places like the Grand Canyon, and then depart. Only a small spaceport-staff of non-Hominids remains after ten years. They run a few small evacuation-spaceports scattered about the planet, just in case any indigenous EarthSol Hominids wish to leave. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_canyon)
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November 12, 2011 In the long run, approximately 20% of the indigenous Hominids are expected to emigrate, 10% to each “side”. The “spark”-people are the first to leave. They are the people who invent-and-engineer gadgets-and-content, such as music, automobiles, movies, televisions, computers, computer-games, and mobile phones. Without them, the rest of Earth’s population could decide to settle into a comfortable 1950’s lifestyle. Hominids immigrating from other planets might replace the indigenous “spark”-people, and push Earth-Sol’s culture in a different direction.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-2 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-6.)
Interplanetary Hominid governments begin partaking in the international peacekeeping force. They land their spaceplanes and troops on Earth-Sol to “stabilize” the situation. Unbeknownst to the media and public, approximately one-million resident off-planet Hominids silently evacuate Earth-Sol via the temporary military-spaceports maintained by the Hominid peacekeepers. People on the “disclosure” team, working off-of Earth-Sol, watch this happen. They estimate 40 million off-planet Hominids are living on Earth-Sol in total. Only 2.5% of the resident off-planet Hominids leave. Most stay, either because they don’t want to leave, or because they aren’t told they can leave, or because they aren’t allowed to leave. The Hominid nations see “disclosure” as an invasion of their territory. To ensure that no other disclosure-invasions occur, anonymous-and-untraceable Hominids, not affiliated with any Hominid organization, small-nuke the downtowns of one-third of Earth’s major cities. They threaten total destruction if the planet is not returned to the Hominids within two decades.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-3 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-1.)
“Are you sure I should impede them?” asks the “civilian” military-leader. “It’s your decision, but that’s what my leadership suggests.” “I will try it,” he says with foreboding. The state’s military receives orders to become more-obnoxious to off-planet Hominids. US martial-law police detain interplanetary Hominid soldiers when they break the law. Martial-law police also threaten to detain the Hominid soldiers with the same “illegal immigration” laws that are used to detain the “disclosure” teammembers. At this point, ALL “disclosure” team-members are in immigration detention, but no off-planet Hominid soldiers are. Discussions occur about what to do with the suspected off-planet Hominids that have immigrated to the United States over the past forty years. Technically, they are illegal immigrants, and should be shipped off to Mexico. (Only Americans and Mexicans will get that joke.) No-one is prepared to make such a move. But, lists of suspected immigrant Hominids are being made. The martial-law police are prepared to arrest and deport any immigrant Hominids that are acting as subversives, undermining the elected United-States government. One month after the “civilian” military-leader makes his decision, official US militarypolice fly-in, and request that he steps down. You only hear about this confrontation second-hand.
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November 12, 2011 The “civilian” military-leader and his immediate command staff are not seen again. They may have been imprisoned, or forced into retirement. A few months later, off-planet Hominid militaries are everywhere. Already detained by the US military, you are flown-off the planet by a Hominid cargo-plane, and detained in a prisoner-of-war camp on another planet.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-4 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-1.)
“Are you sure I should stay neutral?” asks the “civilian” military-leader. “It’s your decision. My leadership recommends that you do nothing, take no action, and stay neutral.” “I will try it,” he says with foreboding. At this point, ALL “disclosure” team-members are in military detention. No more “disclosure”-team spaceplanes are allowed to land. More-and-more off-planet Hominid militaries land and set up their own military bases next to US military bases. Within a few years, fences that separate the side-byside militaries are torn down. An agreement between the Hominid nations and the non-Hominids is reached. Detained “disclosure” team-members are bussed to a pick-up point in the desert, where they are evacuated to by non-Hominid spaceplanes.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-5 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-4.)
By the evening, one of the news-channels has changed its conclusions. It is now reporting that the bombing of New York City was a deception, and that Hominids from other planets bombed the building to cast doubt on the “disclosure” aliens... which is what you and Sam claimed. The other two channels maintain their story that the aliens bombed the buildings. Your radio-broadcaster host, now provided with a legitimized version similar to your explanation, is much-more willing to believe you. You spend the next few weeks walking around the town and meeting the locals. Though uncertain whether you are “the good guys,” or “the bad guys,” or if “something was messed up”, the locals are friendly. Television reporters don’t bother interviewing you; they have enough aliens elsewhere. Unexpectedly, another group of “aliens” lands small teams in all of the same places where your “disclosure” teams landed. The new group of “aliens” are much-friendlier towards the Hominid Federation, than people in your “disclosure” team. Due to intergalactic political considerations, I (Mike) cannot name or physically describe the hypothetical next group of “aliens” in this choice-story.
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November 12, 2011 Four of them land in the town where you’re posted. The new “aliens” get-along well with the indigenous Hominids in your assigned town. Within a few weeks, a spaceplane picks you up. The second wave of “aliens” remains.
– The end –
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November 12, 2011
CHOICE D-6 (Go back to the previous choice, Choice C-4.)
Television news-coverage continues to report that “the aliens bombed New York City”. The radio-broadcaster doesn’t trust your motivations, despite your sketch-pad discussions. A week after your landing, news-coverage is reinvigorated as thousands of large spaceplanes land in airports around the world. Uniformed Hominids step out of the spaceplanes, and announce that they are from a “Federation of Hominids”, like in Star Trek. They refuse to say anything more until they have met with indigenous political leaders. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek) A week later, the news-services report that the Hominid militaries are here as peacekeepers. There is an enormous war in space; the non-Hominid “disclosure” team is from “the other side”. The Hominid Federation has negotiated a truce with its enemies to keep Earth-Sol out of the war’s path. As an afterthought, television-news announces that all of the non-Hominid aliens will be allowed to board spaceplanes and leave the planet.
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November 12, 2011 One month later, you board a Hominid spaceplane. You and Sam have no idea if you are going to be released to your side, or if you will be interned in a prisoner-of-war camp.
– The end –
OTHER “DISCLOSURE” SCENARIOS
“Disclosure” might not happen, but... Over the past hundred years, many alien abductions have resulted in abductees being voluntarily flown off-of Earth. People’s friends and family would have assumed that the abducted people wandered-off, ran away, or had been murdered. Such rescue-abductions could resume.
Hominids from other planets might “disclose” to the indigenous Earth-Sol population without the involvement of non-Hominid aliens. The off-planet Hominids would most-likely “disclose” to the wealthiest indigenous Hominids first. And then to the top-2% wealthiest within a few decades. By that point, rumour and news of disclosure would slowly filter throughout Earth’s population.
Other “disclosure” scenarios are possible. Anything can happen at any time. For more information see http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullEBook.pdf.
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FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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DISCO BALL Mike Rozak Copyleft 2010
SPARKLES In front of me, about two meters away, spun a sparkling sphere. Wait. Let me think. No, it wasn’t in front of me. It was ABOVE me.
Above me, about two meters away, was a faceted sparkling sphere.
Rephrase that.
Sorry, it takes me forever to wake up.
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November 12, 2011 My eyes had opened. I was lying on my back, and I gradually perceived my UFO’s disco ball as it sparkled above me. I hate hyperspace, by the way. All the tingling and swooshing really gets to you. I continued to stare blankly at the disco ball, numbly hoping that my alarm clock wouldn’t go off yet, and that my mind could rebuild itself in quiet peace without having to squeeze out enough thought to find and smash the snooze button. This being a space-plane, it wasn’t actually called a “snooze button”, probably a chronograph cessation mechanism. It was a faux digital display constructed of little piece of steel that flipped around every ten minutes. At least it didn’t blink 12:00 when it wasn’t set. Below the always-misinformed time display was an identical fliptime-displayer (the technical term) with a push-in pull-out knob for turning on/off the alarm.
What time was it anyway? According to which sun? And which planet? And whose ancient time measurement?
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Might as well get up. I rolled over and knee-ed up. The world felt a bit crooked. I must be in low-gravity. Nearly tripping over a fold in my rolled-out bedroll, I stumbled over to the alarm clock, built into one of the wall-mounted control panels. If the designers had laid the panel flat, instead of cambering it, the alarm-clock panel (including the “door opening button”) would have made an excelling coffee counter. Oh well. At least the lip held escaping pencils. The displays told me that I had thirty minutes until my alarm would go off... or that my alarm went off thirty minutes ago... I wasn’t sure. I pushed the alarm button in to pre-empt the alarm. It didn’t budge. So I pulled it out.
MY BASEMENT Food. There wasn’t any up here. I ate my secondary food cache last night. The wrappers were still someplace around... looking around, pointing... there! 335 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I walked over to the wrappers on the floor, picked them up, and shoved them in my pocket. My main food-cache was stored in my basement. My basement was on the “floor” below. I had to open my central trap door to get to my basement. My unrolled bedroll was on top of the trap door. I had to roll up my bedroll first. Solve the adventure game yourself; fortunately, I didn’t have to make a cheese sandwich and place it on top of a satchel to capture a flying bot... or however that game was solved. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hitchhiker’s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy_(computer_ga me) )
Oops... In the above action walkthrough, I forgot that I had to press “D” to walk down my ladder-stairs. I hate ladder-stairs.
Once down in the storeroom, I threw my rolled-up bedroll onto a shelf. My food wrappers I placed in my treasure display case, technically called a waste basket, and got one adventure-game point. On another shelf was a box of “Wheezit Energy Bars”. I pocketed two bars, climbed up the ladder, and closed the trap door.
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November 12, 2011 Just a minute. The phone is ringing... Not in my story, but in real life.
I’M BACK Sorry, I had to answer that. It was my bank, I think, but I missed the phone call, and when I called back I got a computer, so I hung up.
Back to my story.
To recap the excitement: I pocketed my energy bars, climbed up the ladder, and closed the trap door. (Always remember to close the trap door. If you forget, you’ll always remember.) Damn. I should have taken the disco ball down too... Next time I head down. 337 | P a g e
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By the way, the automatic basement light really does shut off when you close the trap door.
My pellet gun sat on the cambered counter opposite the alarm-clock door-thingy combo. I have a friend who likes old westerns. She had someone on a low-tech planet make me a leather belt and holster for my zip gun. The belt-maker added bullet-holding loops, complete with gunpowder bullets (that wouldn’t fit my gun)... Kind of useless... But they looked really cool, and you never know, they might prove to be as useful as the “Jewel encrusted egg”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zork)
BUZZ The alarm went off. Didn’t I just shut it off? Bother. I ambled to the other side of my small UFO, dragging my holster, and shut off the alarm. I put on my holster. It hung at the proper, 23-degree angle.
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November 12, 2011 While my alarm-clock technology was around 600 years out-of-date, my UFO’s telemetry was not. I thought to my spaceplane that I wished to see what was outside. One of the bots stored in my basement dematerialized, zipped out of my UFO through a hatch, and had a squiz.
A visual panel appeared on the down-angled wall in front of me. I could see the bot’s telemetry (it was working okay, but needed an oil change soon), as well as visuals from one of its eyes.
Two hundred meters from my craft was a slaver sphere, parked dead in space.
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November 12, 2011 My team had requested that I check it out... mostly because they didn’t want to, but partly because I liked caving... and I appreciated the long snooze getting to the site.
REALLY BIG DISCO BALL Simply put, slaver spheres look like really big disco balls in space. They’re spherical because spheres are cheap to build. They’re about one hundred meters in diameter because they’re large. (Some are less large, and some are less small.) They aren’t silver though; they’re kind of a matte gold colour, kind of like titaniumcoated drill bits. Their surface isn’t completely smooth either, not unlike a good disco ball. (Completely smooth disco balls don’t properly distribute the light in cool diamond patterns.) I mentally zoomed my bot towards the slaver sphere, waiting for it to get blown up. Luckily for me, my bot wasn’t attacked, because if it was, my ship would have been sliced about two seconds later. I hate vacuums.
My bird (in the other room) just jumped to the ground. One minute.
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I’M BACK AGAIN I saved her from being euthanized. She was a wild (Galah) teenager when she managed to irrevocably break her wing. The vet was going to euthanize her because she couldn’t be released back into the wild. My bird doesn’t so much as fly, as plummet.
She didn’t want to go back in her cage, or come into this room, so I left her wandering around the living room.
Back to the story...
While I was checking on my real-life bird, my story bot made it to the slaver sphere. When she (my bot) tried to fly into the middle level of the sphere, she was blocked by thick material or defensive fields. I directed her to try one floor up, and she managed to weasel her way through the sphere’s wall, and into the sphere’s “caves”. So as not to ruin the story, I’ll discuss the caves later.
I zoomed by bot through the entire ship over the next hour. I found no-one. I couldn’t find a way into the blocked-off middle level though.
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SLAVER-SPHERE ARCHITECTURE I like caves. My bot returned to home base after I finished the scan. I mentally piloted my extradimensionally-offset ship into the edge of the sphere, my floor level with the sphere’s floor. Not quite level. Never-ever make your spaceplane’s jump-floor exactly level with your destination floor, or your feet will end up being embedded in the floor. I did that once. (Actually, my friend did, but she won’t ever admit it.) For those of you who have never flown a QFA-439.39C, getting in and out of the UFO is easy: You can either open the trap door, climb down, press the red button (not the blue one), and a portion of the floor will ramp down. If you happen to have piles of boxes placed on the ramp, the scene of boxes tumbling out of your UFO onto the airport tarmac is quite embarrassing. (I did that once, my friend points out.) The other way to get out of a QFA-439 series UFO is to stand on the trap door, right above the red-duct-tape X, and think to the ship, “Push me”. Thanks to many safety systems, the spaceplane floor was locked a few centimetres above the slaver-ship floor, so when I was pushed out, I only fell a short distance. A ten centimetre fall is uncomfortable, but not as bad as a negative-two-centimetre fall. Being off by an imaginary distance is distinctly unpleasant. (My friend did this also... and so did I.)
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November 12, 2011 I also admire architecture. Slaver spheres are a maze of twisty cave-like passages, all alike.
Here are some things to remember about slaver spheres:
Slaves being transported are incredibly bored... and panicked. Placing them in a maze of twisty passages provides them something to do, resulting in less panic and violence.
Mazes prevent slaves from congregating in large open areas and then rioting.
Faux-cave mazes have no pointy edges for slaves to hurt themselves with, or others.
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November 12, 2011 The cave architecture-metaphor allows for elevated pools of water that slaves can drink from.
Never drink from the sunken and flowing streams of water around the periphery of the ship.
I appeared three levels above the blocked off centre level. No-one was around, as expected. I wasn’t killed instantly, as unexpected. I looked around: The ceiling lights were all operating properly.
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November 12, 2011 A quick stride to the latrine wall (at the periphery of the sphere) revealed the stream to be clean and flowing with water. Gun holstered, I crept towards the centre of the ship. (Un-holstered guns tend to get one shot.) The elevated drinking-water basins were clean. A bit further on in the maze, I found a foil-packaged energy-bar hidden away in a crevice. Slave “enrichment”, to keep them busy. Its expiry date hadn’t yet been reached. Though I wasn’t willing to eat it (slaver energy-bars are often drugged), I swapped my “Wheezit Energy Bar” for the slaver energy-bar. There was no reason to steal. After ten minutes of wandering through the maze, I found the approximate centre of the ship.
PUSHED If the slaver-ship had no slaves, then standing in an alcove near the centre of the ship should trigger a “push” that would pop me to another level. I stood for a few moments... in an alcove, of course. The tingling began. I felt an invisible “arm” grab me. A few seconds later, I stood in a “white room”.
Someone shot me from behind. 345 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It felt like bullets going through Mythbusters’ ballistics gel. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mythbusters) My body tipped down, face forward. Blank. Dead. Insert quarter to play again.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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ESCAPING THE WAR by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
THE WAR RECON PREP In the orange glow of the camping-tent’s bug-lantern, Shk turned to me and asked: “So, what kind of house are you going to build?” “Um. Non-traditional. It’ll have a flat roof. And a rectangular clover-leaf design,” I answered. “How many bedrooms?” That question was leading. I expected to NOT have children. I smiled at the implication, and then diverted. “Well, I need a room where my friends can stay the night, and an extra one for a pool table.” Shk smiled. “Pass the ammo cartridge.” I took an EEP cartridge (Encapsulated-Explosive Projectile – what you Earthlings call a “bullet”) out of my bag, and handed it to my friend. Shk loaded the EEP cartridge into her black-gun. The cartridge locked-in with a click. 348 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Terracotta?” she asked. (We Nor context-switch quite-often.) I checked the ammo in my zap-gun. “Orange-red tiles, and some blue-teal ones arranged into a chequered-border.” “Cool.” She added, “Barbeque?” “A shish-kebob pit in the kitchen.” I double-checked my 30-centimeter knife. It was pointless in combat, but it looked good. “Yum [shish-kebobs].” Switching subjects, Shk asked, “Are you ready to head out?” “Yep,” I answered glumly. I exhaled a sigh.“Another typical hunt today.” Wr, also in the tent, handed a small steel-cylinder spark-grenade to me. “Here you go. You’re missing one.” I accepted the weapon and gave a shrug-smile. The shrug-smile meant both, “Yeah, you’re right,” and “I don’t really care.” Shk peered outside through our tent’s closed flap. “The sun rises in an hour,” she said.
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RECON Shk lead our group. Four of us followed. A helicopter had dropped us off amidst steep and narrow hills. Rocks littered the ground, Mars-like. Not even grass grew in the chalk-stone landscape. Shk took her recon path from a military GPS. Back at base, it had been encryptionuploaded with a route we were to follow. Along the path were pre-programmed locations where we might set off bunker-blaster bombs. Only the GPS-device knew where we were heading, and when we were to set off detonations. If any of us knew what our path would be more than ten seconds ahead of time, an enemy that had hacked into our implants could read the recon-plans from our minds. If any of us were perceptive-enough to predict our path, the enemy could also pull-out that information. Recon, as exciting as it wasn’t, involved wandering around the barren rocky-hills of Keark (a planet) at the insane whims of a handheld device... made more insane by the bored male techs that remotely pre-programmed it. One female troop had their GPS programmed with a path spelling the word “Love” by a pack of men. Our language’s script looks like Arabic, so the word “Love” kind-of looks like this, “
”ݡﴘ, perfect for hill-country switchbacks.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arabic_alphabet) What else do you do with your spare mental faculties except try and remember if your path spells anything? I once thought one of our paths spelled “Ook”, but that’s a nonsense word. Today’s path wasn’t nearly so “romantic”. We had already doubled-back twice. “Haven’t we been here an hour ago?” “And half-an-hour before that?” The device only displayed a path-history for the last ten-minutes, on purpose. If we knew where 350 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 we were relative to anywhere we had been, enemy telepaths could also use that information against us. We rounded a hill’s ridge to the right. Our elevation was half-way up the hill. “Oh crap,” complained Shk as she shock-stared at the GPS, “The [male] Bitches want us to traipse down the valley and up the other side.” And then, without warning, she fun-yelled, “RUN!” We all ran. I hadn’t yet rounded the corner, so I turned-about and bolted. “Ffffwwwwk” went the bunker-blaster. Some sparkly lights. Radiation blast. Ten seconds later. “Gotcha ,” called-out Shk to us. We set-off a bomb nearly every-other day. Shk’s GPS had detected an invisible extradimensional Alotian-bunker, and silently signalled for her to detonate a bunkerblaster bomb. She had ten seconds to get us away, set the detonator-timer on the soon-to-be deposited box, and bolt-away herself. If any of the Alotians hiding in their extradimensional bunker were mind-reading us, which they would be, then their defences and/or automatic-evacuations would be activated twenty seconds after Shk realized her GPS had signalled her to detonate her bomb. Having pissed-off Alotians suddenly-materializing all-around you wasn’t very fun; that’s how I died the first time. The traipsing-down-the-valley “joke” might have been Shk’s effort to cover her sudden surge of emotional excitement when she saw the blinking bunker-blaster icon on her GPS screen. The bunker-blaster left no visible signs of detonation, other than a slightly-melted box. If an Alotian extradimensional-bunker had been there, it was invisible and ethereal before, and its detonated carcase was still invisible and ethereal. Any 351 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Alotians in the ethereal bunker would have suffocated and/or been extradimensionally-melted when their bunker’s physics-pressurization-field was “popped” by the detonation. We left the carcase of the bomb on the ground, and continued along our preprogrammed trail, still directed by the GPS. It was two hours into our eight-hour shift.
Nor woman (Evolved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thylacoleo)
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THE ALOTIAN ETHER-FAERIES ATTACK One hour later, our GPS hadn’t yet spelled anything meaningful as it meandered us about: “Beep beep beep beep...” went Djen’s proximity-alerter. A brilliant-red zap-bolt (think “Star Wars Blaster”) flew-out from nowhere and into Krft’s back, at heart-level. She fell down instantly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blaster_(Star_Wars) ) “... beep beep beep beep...” continued Djen’s proximity alerter, even after it had hit the ground, discarded for a weapon. I dropped my black-gun and un-holstered my own zap-gun. “... beep beep beep ...” I scanned around. Alotians in faerie-suits could sometimes be seen as watery outlines when they moved. A zap-bolt flew past Shk. “Faerie dust!” yelled Umfk, as she detonated her duster-bomb. Any nearby invisible Alotian faeries would soon be glowing. We’d all have shit-nasty headaches tonight, though. “There’s one!” said Shk, pointing at/behind me. “... beep beep beep beep...” You never want to have your best-friend do that.
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November 12, 2011 Unseen to me, a glowing Alotian faerie stood ten meters behind me. An Alotian zapbullet blew out my heart two beats later. That was the second time that I had died in my half-year of military duty.
LIFE AS A MEDIC (ONE YEAR LATER) NEW FRIENDS We Nor bitch-session about everything. (Notice the self-referential bitch-session statement about us bitch-sessioning.) Welcome to my bitch-session. I think I was infantry in my prior life. Now I was an apprentice medic. I had been in a war, fighting against, I think, Agamidae. (For the record, we weren’t fighting against them, but I didn’t recall this at the time.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agamidae). I was killed enough times that I forgot who I was. My medic apprenticeship centred around paid work, with accompanying online computer-courses. After waking up in my new body, medic-training was one of the occupation choices I was offered. Another was returning to the battlefront – no way. Work in a prefabricated-building construction-factory may have been a fifth option. Life as a medic sounded better than any of the other eight choices. At the time, I was far-too dim/sozzled to inquire about other career alternatives 354 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After four-weeks of reincarnation rehabilitation, I was flown to a podunk town to undertake my medic apprenticeship. The strip-mining town had, maybe, 500 people... or that’s what I thought at the time. The population was closer to 1500. “Big Rock,” I think that’s what the town was called, was built near a 150-meter-wide canyon. The only road-access to the town was via a “steel” arch-bridge that spanned the 300-meter deep canyon. That bridge was all that the town was famous for... Not that the town was famous. While working on my medic apprenticeship over the past year, I had begun befriending new people. My old friends were still in the battlefield, and on a verydistant planet. I’d never see them again. Functionally, they were no-longer friends. We Nor HATE acquiring new friends. Our evolutionary design is to grow up with a group of friends, all of the same age. We remain friends for life. Packs of five-to-eight girl-toddlers grow-up into girls, then girl-teenagers, and then mature into women together. Members of a pack all live in the same town. We either all work in the same business, for camaraderie, or we take separate and intentionally-diverse jobs for economic stability. We usually live in our own single-person apartments. Socialization, which includes meals, is entirely pack-based. My new friends, I was acquiring through work in the clinic. They were the only people I saw regularly, so I naturally bonded with then. Kin was the clinic’s doctor. Her senior medic was Zana. Zana’s younger sister, Leen, also lived in the town. I think she worked at the grocery store. The three had already bonded into a pack. Over the past year, they had gradually included me in their packactivities. It would take another decade before I was fully bonded.
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BEING A MEDIC Life in a community medical-clinic is simple. This is how Nor clinic-medicine works from an apprentice-medic’s point-of-view: People show up for half-an-hour to hour-long visits. Half of the visits are scheduled, the rest are walk-ins with injuries, infections, viruses, and malarias. “Simple” patients were sent in my direction. More-serious ailments were assigned to Kin the doctor, or Zana the senior medic. People requiring surgery would be driven or flown to the hospital, a thousand kilometres away. By default, I gave everyone an extradimensional “MRI”. They’re really cool and lots of fun. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mri) The MRI scanner is a torso-tall clamshell. The patient would stand in front of the back of the open clamshell. I’d close the clamshell, leaving their head and legs exposed. A minute later, a three-dimensional image of their chest would appear on my MRI-display box, a .5m x .25m x .13m display and computer. If a patient’s head looked damaged, I’d raise the MRI clamshell and clamp it around their head... which they really-really hated. Just imagine having the monster-jaws of the clamshell being closed around your vision, your head being cushion-clamped into place, and then spending ten minutes in a field-buzzing difficult-to-breathe darkness. The MRI computer analysed the person’s health based on the scan, their medical records, and a few multiple-choice questions that I’d answer. “Has the patient consumed any recreational drugs recently? (a) No, (b) Yes, (c) They are hesitant to say.” After the scan and questions, the MRI computer would display some instructions for me to relay to the patient, print out more-detailed instructions on thermal paper, and write a prescription. Only once-in-awhile would I have to refer the patient to Zana or Kin. 356 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We had a cool-room in the back. It was filled with glass-faced refrigerators full of glow-stick-like medication-vials. I’d grab the prescription, show the patient how to “crack” and shake the medication-vial, and send them on their way. I’d also get them non-medicine supplies when necessary, such as wet-bandages and joint-braces. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glow_stick) That patient finished, I’d stop by Zana for my next MRI victim. Failing that, I’d watch Kin or Zana while they worked with a patient.
“THE BITCHES” For you to understand “The Bitches”, I should first explain Nor physiology. Nor Women are taller than men. We have shorter tails, half of the men’s tail-length. We have small breasts, a pouch, and a small penis. Nor men have long “luscious” tails. They are extremely proud of their tails, and often extend them with synthetic pink or baby-blue lion-like fake-fur “puffs”. They have “round perky breasts” – their words. And a pouch. And of course, a penis.
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Left – A Nor man. Right – A Nor woman.
When Nor women give birth, their children look like Kangaroo “pinkies”. After half a year in the pouch, the pinkies grow a light-covering of white fur. Their stubs grow into arms and legs. Somewhat mouse-looking, and by-then poking their heads out of the pouch, they look much cuter. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joey_(marsupial) ) We women can raise our pinkie children in our own pouch... if we choose. Most of us women are less-excited about raising children than the men. Men (and boys) LOVE to have their pouches filled. Schoolboys walk around with Troll-like dolls sticking out of their pouches. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troll_doll) 358 | P a g e
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Nor men are fanatical child-raisers. As an overreaching and very-rude statement, the only reason that Nor men need a woman around is to get a pinkie from them. In reality, Nor men think of Nor women as people, but women are people they’d rather not hang-out with. And vice-versa. Nor Women have personalities similar to Earth-Sol alpha-males. The character of Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) in the movies Alien and Aliens could be a Nor woman. Unlike the Alien(s) character, Ripley, Nor women are spontaneous and fun-loving. We hang out in packs, and are NOT loners, like Ripley. While all Hominid-women conversations begin with “How are you doing?” and degrade into “Did you know that Lucy is going out with Mark?”, all of our conversations begin with “Fucking-shit-weird day,” and ultimately degrade into a bitch-sessions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigourney_Weaver, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aliens_(film) ) Nor Men also hang out in packs, up to five men in a group. The “worst” males are very effeminate. Earth-Sol people would think they acted like hyperbolized homosexual men. A pack of men raise their children together. A single Nor woman is selected to be a mother by ALL five men. She is then impregnated by them, either all the men as a group, or one man every two months, depending upon what the men prefer. 359 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Over the course of a year, the men get five pinkie-children from her. A sixth pinkiechild might also be produced, and raised as a twin by a particularly-effeminate male. Once she has given birth, the Nor woman usually stays away from the men, and vice versa. In some societies, Nor women help to raise their children. Similar to divorced husbands on Earth-Sol, Nor women have weekly visits, give their children gifts, and sometimes provide financial assistance. Men stay in town to raise the children. A men-pack will intentionally take different work-shifts so that someone is always at home when the children return from school, or have a school-day off. The men also work in different professions to ensure aggregate income stability. Nor women are expendable. We are more-likely to travel and trade. In times of war, we are the first into battle.
MEDIC/NOR TALES/TAILS If our patients’ ailments were sufficiently noteworthy, we’d bitch-session about them during lunch. “I just had someone come in with...!” The most memorable tale was when a Nor (male) Bitch showed up with a very-short and bloody tail. His sixth tail-vertebra was exposed. We couldn’t do much-more for him than clean-up his wound, and put him on the next commercial flight to the city. At lunch the next day, we had a lengthy debate about him. Legally, we were supposed to report potential assault injuries to the magistrate. As the man told his story, he had accidentally caught his tail in a kitchen food-blender during lunchbreak... which was possible, though unlikely. 360 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As previously mentioned, the Bitches love their tails. The injury could well-have-been “payback”, some sort of male semi-legal vengeance between two packs. We checked for knife marks, but there weren’t any. We suspected that another Bitch-pack managed to get his tail chewed up by an exposed gear in a mining vehicle, or perhaps a wood chipper. We never could understand the men’s zeal to abuse one-another. Or maybe he genuinely-accidentally got it stuck in a mining vehicle’s engine-bits. Or perhaps he had quite-stupidly sat on his kitchen blender. We had no evidence that a kitchen blender wasn’t the cause. Our bitch-session that day was certainly interesting, as we hypothesized all of the ways he could have mangled his tail, including getting it caught in an industrialelevator door. We curled-over laughing at that one... Not funny to you? Yeah, well, you had to be there to find it funny... Being a Nor woman would also make the elevator-door joke more humorous. Other, more-believable tool-injuries were much-more common amongst men. Despite what the movie Lethal Weapon II shows, nail-guns don’t kill, they just embed their nails very deeply into someone’s chest cavity. Reciprocating saws accidently cut through men’s muscles, and/or they accidentally impale their chest cavity. Male bones and muscles were frequently crushed by industrial machinery. Pry-bars had a way of gouging out men’s eyes. Tail-injuries were very rare. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leathal_weapon_2, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reciprocating_saw) The rest of a medic’s work-life was quite boring... We never had to deal with dangerous viral outbreaks, like the flu. They would have been a sign of a biological attack against our race. We had no alcoholism. We had no diabetes. We don’t smoke. 361 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Recreational drugs occasionally caused problems, but the drugs are designed so they won’t harm their users that badly. Unlike Earth-Sol, people weren’t put on a stream of medications as they got older. Part of the reason we didn’t prescribe many ongoing medications, was that we would be given new bodies once we reached the equivalent body-age of 50. Children didn’t go fishing, so they didn’t embed fishhooks in their fingers and other extremities. Broken bones were common, but not terribly interesting. Our entertainment came from the clever industrial “accidents” that afflicted The Bitches.
DINNERS My friends and I would head-over to one of the town’s taverns or bistros after work. They featured dim lights, a smoke-free environment, and booth-action seating. The taverns typically had a couple of pool tables at one end, where competing men-packs would play snooker all-night. Culinary variety is not a Nor-woman’s strong-point. I ate shish-kebabs nearly every night. I might have eaten a handful of nuts occasionally. If the bistros served curries, I never tried one. I don’t recall what my friends ate. I don’t recall thinking to watch what my friends ate. After eating, I would air-inject coloured stim-drugs into my forearm to alter my mood. There were several flavours, all (mostly) non-addictive. Blue would calm me 362 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 down. Green made me feel edgy. Red induced a feeling of camaraderie. Purple just made me forget. Clinic-patient bitch-sessions stayed at work, but we’d bitch-session about The Bitches (men) we were acquainted with. Or we’d bitch-session about work. Or we’d rant about the state of the world. I never mentioned the war. Fuck. I hate the fucking goddamn shit war! The Alotians were in the war... Let me rephrase that: I recalled the Alotians being there, but I wasn’t sure if I had fought against them. I did know that Nor nations fought against Alotian nations, and concluded that I must have also fought the Alotians as part of the Nor military. The Agamidae weren’t in the war. They may have been indigenous civilians living on the planet. Or they may have been on our side. I didn’t remember clearly. Fuck! War! The weapons that people invent to kill one-another. You think nukes are bad. They are KIND. As I write this story, I am crying, as I recall shadows of war memories.
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APARTMENT I hadn’t noticed that I no-longer thought about building a house. Nor had I noticed that I hadn’t noticed. I had an apartment of my own in “Big Rock”. It had a small kitchen, separated from a bedroom/living-room combination by a thin partition wall. Attached to the bedroom/living-room was a small toilet room. Showers in the five-story apartment complex were communal. I didn’t watch television or listen to the radio. The kitchen had a 2-meter by 1-meter E-paper information “wall”. The screen would update every ten seconds, displaying new text, and black-and-white images. There was a channel for men, which I never watched, and one for women, which was mostly news, and a few others. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electronic_paper) My living-room had a couch, which I slept on. I owned very-few clothes. I owned even less of anything else. I may have had some hand-written get-well letters from friends. We never... I don’t know how to put this. We never asked each other how we were feeling emotionally. Nor women do NOT talk emotions. They fun-punch one-another on the shoulder, and get one-another recreationally-drugged when one of the pack is feeling down. The “get well” letters were a monumental touchy-feely breakthrough for us. 364 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t realize this at the time. All I knew was that I cherished them... the letters and my friends. But I didn’t know why. Goddamn shift fucking crap war!
MIGRATION An official letter arrived at the clinic. I had been selected for relocation/evacuation because of my combat and medical skills. Being the only expendable person in the three-person clinic-staff, I would be relocated/evacuated alone. Leen, Zana’s sister, wasn’t relocated/evacuated either. Not only did she not possess appropriate skills for relocation/evacuation, Leen was already bonded to Kin and Zana. My three emerging-friends would stay behind.
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November 12, 2011 Once again, social bonds were cut, and I stood unsupported. Nor can make friends with almost anyone, and with almost any personality... but we need friendship consistency. Kin, Leen, Zana, and I didn’t really say goodbye. We had a last bitch-session in the tavern over shish-kebabs and cashews. The next morning, I was bussed out of town and put onto a large “iron” spaceplane. The ship was fucking huge. My stateroom was a 2.4-meter by 3.6-meter metal box constructed of thick “iron” walls. The entire room was self-contained in the event we were attacked. The room’s door was a World-War-II Navy-vessel pressurized-door, with a hefty latch instead of a wheel. No oxygen vents aerated the room; oxygen got into the room when the door was opened. The room contained a bed, and a fixed porta-toilet suspended over a shallow tub of chemical solution. I could have borrowed books from the library, but I didn’t care to read. I had a video-display with three channels; I kept the news channel on roundthe-clock. My room was welded into a row of twelve rooms. The bloc sat on a track, and could be moved left-and-right like an archival bookcase in a museum, eliminating or creating the hallway in-between. When we were confined to our room, which was most of the time, our row would be slid tight against another row. If we opened our airlock doors then, all we would see would be the rear-wall of another row of rooms. The track-sliding movement of our rooms would alert us of our impending releaseand-recreation. Once our rooms were locked in place, a buzzer would go off, and a light would turn on over our doors. Recreation consisted of a walk, proper toilet facilities, and feeble bitch-sessions in the library. We didn’t know one-another wellenough to get a really good bitch-session going.
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November 12, 2011 Food was microwave dinners in the cantina, mostly curries and wet-grains, like risotto. Two hours later, we’d trudge back to our rooms and be archived. News-reel videos played in our rooms, updated as we travelled along. Every one of our days was twenty days in the real world. We watched the war progress at lightning speed. Our entire sector went-up in flames. Goddamn war! My military friends from the war were most-likely still in the war. My medical friends, who I had been growing into, were almost certainly engulfed by the war. The solar-system where the tiny village of “Big Rock” lived was shaded grey on the television. This time, the war wasn’t embodied by the Alotians. The news-reels kept mentioning Hominids and/or Simians. Astonishingly, the news-reels showed packs of men fighting as infantry. They NEVER fought in infantry or as battleship crew... not unless the war got really bad. Poor Hominids and/or Simians. Nor men are incredibly nasty when they fight... as exampled by tails-in-blenders, eye gougings, reciprocating-saw injuries, and nail-gun chest injuries. Never-ever-ever make The Bitches angry. They go into a furore. Goddamn war! How do I escape this thing? It chased me even into my armoured room. My transport was attacked by a Hominid battleship. Another of my bodies died again. I forgot more of who I was. 367 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WALKING DOWN THE STREETS OF LOS ANGELES I awoke further away from the war. I don’t get my own body this time. I had sustained too-many injuries. The Fleaevolved people (they prefer to humorously be referred to by their diminutivecousin’s name, Fleas) gave me the choice of being merged with a pet-animal, and retaining my personality, or being merged with an existing person, and experiencing radical shifts in my personality. I shared a body with someone else until we merged. Who needs bitch-sessions anyway? I don’t miss the urge to bitch-session. I do miss my playful nature though. Los Angeles isn’t bad for a city. I like the shopping and gadgets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_angeles) I cannot accurately remember what I looked like. Neither can I remember my friends’ names. Thanks to all of the war-inflicted mind-and-soul injuries, I have forgotten most of what I knew. I remembered some of my medic training. And some combat. As well as myself from Los Angeles. The war hasn’t reached here yet. Hominids from other planets are secretly hiding-out here from the impending war. Meanwhile, contracted Hominid botters based on other planets control the LosAngeles indigenous population. Their nosy-neighbour attitude and thought-control
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November 12, 2011 keeps the crime-rate down. They also mould the subconscious thoughts of LA’s residents; I suddenly have the urge to watch movies and stay up until midnight. The war is following me, creeping over the horizon. This time it isn’t embodied by Alotians or Simians. The Hominids on the planet aren’t war-carriers either. But still, the war is there. It hides in the botters. It hides in the invisible spaceplanes smuggling people to Earth-Sol. It even hides in the Hollywood alien-invasion movies, which both frighten the locals, and which can be distributed to other Hominid planets to be shown as anti-Hominid propaganda. Goddamn fucking shit war!
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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November 12, 2011
GECKO ON TABLE STARING UP AT LIGHT Mike Rozak Copyleft 2010
“Gecko-scooter” with pump-action pedals.
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November 12, 2011
BINGO GAMBLING The dangling lamp above me fascinated White light Moths and other night insects flying around Wondered what they tasted like Bitter
Lying on my circular table Staring up at the light
Snare-drumming my fingers against the table Left hand, then right, then left
Peeled off some old skin from my chest Staring up at the light
My remaining “friends” had left an hour before We had gambled using bingo-like cards And plastic chips No-one ate the chips this time 371 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That I saw
They had all left It wasn’t the same Without my friend
FRIEND’S DEATH A couple weeks before My friend had died Lived in my ex-grandmother’s house With me
My house, her house, my ex-grandmother’s house Half fly-screen enclosed patio A large green table in the centre Above which hung a light Against the wall was a sink 372 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Run from water collected by the corrugated iron roof
The other half was into a single room was enclosed My bed was on one side Her bed on the other She was closest to the sink and mirror Her bed was now empty
I stared at the light Lying on the green table It dimmed slightly As my power box faded
Her body I buried two days after she died A shallow grave a ways from the house Her/my friends visited Noted their respects to the grave And went on with their lives
She was perfectly healthy 373 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I’m not sure why she died She was happy in the evening A headache Dead in the morning
THE PARTY CONVERSATION What happened at the party? Was there any conversation? It may have revolved around alcohol (not quite alcohol, but the same effect) Or throwing gambling pieces around Or where to holiday Or who was losing Or who was winning Or “I saw you eat that chip!”
Got eyed by one of the “boys” Nothing mentioned about stars 374 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Nothing about getting off the planet Nothing about our voice-only friends Who didn’t exist to her/my friends, then around the table
HOMINIDS Hominids lived nearby No-one visited them I won’t mention why
On my bicycle I walked it a kilometre down a small track At a T-intersection with a road I bicycled to the left The Hominids were to the right
Reaching the hamlet half an hour later Was a parts store And a part-time restaurant And a few gecko houses 375 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And a food store
When in need of money I worked at the food store It paid for food I couldn’t find in the wild And a few repairs to my house, my friend’s house, and my ex-grandmother’s house
JOB The light no longer lit My power supply had died They normally lasted for years
I returned left to the village Accepted work at the shop Taking money from people Cleaning up Stocking food
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November 12, 2011 In a few weeks I would have enough money I could purchase another power supply And then stop work until I needed more
Nothing mattered much without my friend
I worked Maybe a week
THE OFFER A hominid drove up You’d call it a 1930’s diesel pickup truck In the tray were goods for the shop Brought in by spaceplanes Which they controlled
I unloaded the goods He eyed me off, curious 377 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He liked the look of my eyes I could tell The surrounding skin was exceptionally colourful
“I heard you wanted to get off the planet?”, said the Hominid. Yes “Are you sure?” Yes I was depressed “I’ll stop by in a few days.”
A TUBE Two days later he stopped by He entered the store Asked me to come out This time his truck’s tray had no goods
In the back of his pickup 378 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A glossy black cylinder lay Elliptical A bit taller than me Wider
He pulled it off Stood it vertically Opened it like a oyster shell
“All you have to do to get off the planet is step in.” “I’ll close it around you.” “You’ll be on a spaceplane tonight.” “I don’t know where you’ll go though.”
I stepped in
He closed the oyster shell
THE TRIP 379 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The tube’s inside was dark There were some holes for air, and waste Just above my eyes A scratched-plastic window Lit the interior And showed the sky
The man raised me (and the tube) Pushed me onto his ute I didn’t mind The space was too small The air too stuffy Gecko panic could have arrived But I didn’t mind
I was depressed.
I was going to leave My/her friends I hadn’t told Nor the shopkeeper for whom I was working 380 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
I was depressed
The car door opened The man climbed in The car door closed The engine started And drove us away
My bicycle left behind
Twenty minutes of bumps later The car stopped Its engine ceased
Someone discussed me with the man “A willing gecko”
Two pairs of shoed feet picked up my tube I was carried across some dry ground 381 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Up a clanking metal grate And set down on a metal floor
“Are you alright?” Yes, I said. “We’ll get you food in a bit.”
Two hours later The spaceplane hummed We took off I never was fed Not an issue
The spaceplane was shot down A casualty of war
It may have been for the best I didn’t know it then And wouldn’t have cared I was collectable 382 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Like a pretty pebble Or a shell from the sea
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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I LOSE MORE LITTLE BROTHERS, VOLUME 3 Mike Rozak Copyleft 2010
“THIS COULD BE YOUR LAST CHANCE.” The low, modulated hum of the UFO became deafening as the spaceplane partially materialized into a dim violet. The back of the craft was still invisible. The hovering-UFO’s doorway opened down into a gangway ramp with cyan walking stripes. 384 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Unyah hadn’t met this UFO’s crew, but she had been on many flights before. Unyah walked up to the solidified ramp-way and received a telepathic message. Looking right towards her friend, Shen, she said, “I’m told you can come if you want?” Shen thought briefly about the flight. She had never been on a UFO before, and didn’t really care to. Home was enough for her. The people here were enough also. She didn’t want to travel off to other planets and have to deal with odd sparkling people, strange customs, and danger. “No,” said Shen hesitantly, “I don’t care to.” “Okay then. I don’t know if I’ll be back. We may not be able to land on this planet for too much longer.” Unyah added, “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Hesitantly, “I’m sure.” “Then tell my mother I’m travelling... you know... in another town.” Unyah carefully walked up the ramp, at one quarter walking pace, making sure to place her foot on each glowing line. When Unyah was half way up, Shen saw Unyah begin to become transparent, which really freaked out Shen. Meanwhile, Unyah saw Shen’s world go grey, while the UFO’s interior brightened and people faded in, their skeletons visible just slightly inside their flesh. A walking “animal” with things sticking out of the top of its head stood at the top of the walkway. Unyah would later learn the “things” were antlers. Unyah had never seen an animal Elk, or an Elk-evolved person. She, the Elk-evolved person, was happy and relieved to see Unyah. “Hurry up,” she telepathed to Unyah.
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November 12, 2011 Although the Elk-person could barely see Shen, she telepathically told Unyah, “You should get your friend up here.” “Why?” asked Unyah. “Because we may not be able to come back for a long time.” “She doesn’t want to. I already asked.” Some consternation emitted from the Elk. “Ask her again.” “Okay.” Unyah turned around to see a shadow-Shen still standing there. She yelled, “Shen, are you sure you don’t want to come? This might be your last chance.” Shen hesitated again, but yelled back to her disappearing friend, “No. I’m fine.” Unyah turned her attention back to the ramp and nodded “No” to the Elk, who telepathed exasperation. Unyah continued on up the ramp. As she reached the top, the world behind Unyah dimmed completely, and she saw several people in the spaceplane. She recognized a Hare-evolved woman from before. Everyone on board was happy and relieved that Unyah had made it. The Elk woman stepped past Unyah, just onto the ramp, checking to make sure Shen wasn’t coming up. Again, exasperation. “We need to hurry,” someone said. “Pull in the gangway.” The door pulled up and closed. “We’re out of here!” 386 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Whoosh. Unyah blanked out. She didn’t die.
Shen
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November 12, 2011
LONELY I am Shen, not yet childed, newly an adult, and no longer a teenager. After the UFO door closed and it faded away along with its metallic hum, I returned to our house. Unyah had taken several UFO trips. I watched her board and leave the previous two times also; she was trying to get me to join a spaceplane group... I was clued in enough to realize that. She wouldn’t say what they did though. I wasn’t particularly interested in the adventure or danger either, and especially not the travelling machine. Something about spaceplanes frightened me. Unyah’s rendezvous points with her friends were always different, so that no-one else would see their visits or see her leave. This time, we walked about two kilometres to the southwest of our village to a small clearing amidst the pines. It took me three quarters of an hour to walk back to our empty house. Once home, I turned on a small, yellowing light, and tidied up. Unyah would be back. I made Unyah’s bed; she certainly wouldn’t. I drank a glass of water. With the light still on, I lay down on my own bed and wondered if I should have gone with Unyah. I couldn’t imagine having gone. The thought of “passing up an opportunity” didn’t occur to me, nor did I realize that I had chosen door “A”, the same door which I always had, instead of door “B”, which was Unyah’s door. Turning the light off, I fell asleep.
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November 12, 2011 When I awoke in mid-morning, Unyah hadn’t returned. I hoped she would be back. When I looked in her still-made bed, though, I knew she was still travelling. Once, she arrived very early, napped, and snuck out before I awoke... her messed-up bed giving away her arrival. Unyah did not return the next day. Nor the next. Nor... I didn’t spend the days waiting for Unyah to return. I didn’t really care about her convoluted stories about exotic planets with red sand or talking quolls. I DID enjoy her company. She was my friend. I missed her when she left. My days were occupied doing the usual. I helped Yuln, an older woman with a small child, wash laundry for the Hominids. A ute (pickup truck) would drive up to her house with a load of washing. The Hominid-man driver would offload the laundry under the front-eaves of Yuln’s house, say a friendly “Good day”, and drive away. I would sometimes show up and help Yuln with her washing, especially if she had an extra-large load. She’d pay me a portion of her earnings a week later. Yuln and I would carry the plastic laundry baskets up to a rocky area of the nearby creek, wash them by hand, and then dry them. “I haven’t seen Unyah for awhile,” Yuln asked. “How is she doing?” Yuln was good friends with Unyah’s mother.
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November 12, 2011 “Yeah, the usual,” I answered automatically. I wasn’t even consciously covering-up Unyah’s spaceplane trip. No-one in the village (that I knew of) knew about her adventures. She wished them to be kept secret. So I didn’t tell anyone. I did remember to make up a story, or at least use the default one in case Yuln told Unyah’s mother. “She’s gone over to the next town to do some sketches for their newspaper.” People rarely visited the neighbouring town. And if Unyah wasn’t in that town, she must have been in the one beyond that. I had only ever travelled three towns away, but they supposedly went on forever until you reached the coast. Yuln didn’t note any deceit. Unyah was frequently “off sketching” or doing some other task, so no-one bothered to ask anymore. And Unyah didn’t say much when she got back. Switching subjects, Yuln chided facetiously, “Don’t forget to scrub that for her. She likes everything VERY white.” I had a bar of soap in my hand and was cleaning someone’s clothes. I wasn’t paying attention. Never did. The work was boring. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Whoever this Hominid woman was, I decided that I didn’t like her. I intentionally nicked the fabric’s weave slightly so her underwear wouldn’t last long. She, the Hominid bitch (they weren’t all bad, just most of them), wouldn’t notice the intentional damage, but her clothes would last only half as long as people friendly to us. That set of whites washed and nicked, I grabbed some more underwear and scrubbed. And some blouses. The thread on that button would come lose next time she buttoned up, thanks to a bit of work from my fingernail.
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November 12, 2011 I found it amazing that these people had so many clothes. I had approximately two shirts and three pairs of knee-length shorts, and no underwear. I saved on shirts and underwear by not wearing them. More days passed. No Unyah. After a week, I began to worry. Unyah hadn’t been gone that long before. I didn’t tell Unyah’s mother, or anyone else. I found it difficult to cover up a small hole, which once dug, inevitably became larger.
Shen and Unyah’s house
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November 12, 2011
“D’YOU WANT TO GO IN THE REEDS?” They called themselves “the rangers”, named after some foreign novel. Three of them stopped by one morning. They were males, not men. (Technically they were men, but I didn’t think of them that way.) “The rangers” were from the next town over. Worried about Unyah, I thought I’d ask them if they had seen her; she may have landed near there and authentically stopped by the intermittent newspaper to draw some sketches. “Have you seen Unyah?” I asked. One of them looked surprised. “That’s what we’re here to see you about,” he said. “We haven’t seen her,” he continued. There was a pause while his eyes darted to both friends, and his ears perked up. Theirs did to. “Is Unyah UP to something?” he asked cagily. His head tilted, and his eyes became shifty. “No.” I was very good at not saying anything. He pulled back is left lip in disapproval. “We’re worried about you...” which insulted me. Why would they have cause to worry about me? I didn’t even know them well. “... especially Unyah.” He paused to swivel his ears and listen. Quietly, he said, “The hairs don’t like him.” I had only met “the rangers” a few times previously, and every time they spoke in code. I wasn’t sure why. “Hairs” meant “Hominid men” because they had hair and beards. 392 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t know why the “hairs” would care... kind of. They might not have approved of Unyah’s high-tech adventures. I continued to pretend that Unyah was away sketching. The ranger continued, “They think she’s interfering with their business.” His head inched forward as he eyed me questioningly. Unyah didn’t tell me what she did in any detail. I didn’t ask. I wouldn’t tell. I squeezed my eyes narrower in a “I’m not gonna respond to you” answer. The ranger grimaced a bit at the rebuke. “We’re not pointing a tail at you. We’re just being friendly and here to warn you about danger.” I replied a quietly-polite “Thank you”. I didn’t know how to answer. The ranger turned to leave, followed by the other two. “Stay careful,” he said as he turned back to look at me. “We mean it. Things have happened.” They left. I didn’t know what they were hinting at. The next day, I had a bit of a flu virus, and slept a lot. It persisted for another two days. Oonj, one of the male (not men) “rangers” showed up on the third day, just as I was recovering. He had stood in back when “the ranger” leader had spoken to me a few days earlier. I knew Oonj from school, but not well. While in bed dozing, I heard him walk up my pathway, sticks on the path crackling. 393 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I peered out the window and saw Oonj, a bit dishevelled, carrying a green cap in his hand. Caps are kind of pointless on sunny days, and mostly pointless in the rain also. I walked out my door to greet him. He held his cap in his hands, almost present-like. “Hello Oonj. What can I do for you?” “Have you seen Unyah yet?” he asked. He must have been on “ranger” business. “No,” I answered a bit curtly. “Oh.” Embarrassed. He paused. His eyes shifted. He looked down. He looked at me. “There’ll be a bus by in two days.” I’m dim, but not that dim. My nostrils flared a bit (with a completely different meaning to Hominid nostrils flaring). My head pushed forward. Shyly and slyly Oonj asked, “Do you want to visit the reeds?” His head evasively tilted towards me. I thought for a moment and decided to jump on the opportunity. “Sure,” I answered, “but I can’t go alone. Do you like Kwuu?”
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November 12, 2011 Oonj ducked his head and looked sheepishly to the right. He understood why I couldn’t go alone. And he probably liked Kwuu also. “Yeah.” He eyed to the left. I eye-smiled. “I’ll arrange it. See you there,” I replied. And followed up with a disappointing realization, “I MAY have to take Kwuu’s little brother.” Oonj’s eyes widened, questioning. I buckled up my nose quickly in feigned disgust, “Politics. If he comes, I’ll figure out how to ditch him.” As I said this, my left eyebrow raised, and right lowered in humour. Oonj got the point.
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November 12, 2011
THE BUS TRIP The bus we rode was a 1970’s-style blocky bus, painted yellow-blue. We sat on slabcushion seats upholstered with dingy thick muslin – yellow-green. “Did my pip-brother head to the back?” asked Kwuu, Unyah’s sister, who sat beside me. We were sitting midway up the bus. No-one sat in the seat opposite us. I shifted in my seat, as I momentarily looked towards the back of the bus. Sitting on flat seats was uncomfortable for my tail. “Yeah, I saw him [Kluu] head back just after we got going,” I answered. Kwuu looked behind to verify that Kluu, her brother, was in back. “Do you see Oonj?” I asked. Kwuu kneeled up a bit to get a better view. 396 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Talking away from me, she answered, “No.” She returned to a semi-sitting position. “Did you see him get on?” I asked, because I hadn’t. Kwuu raised her head and looked forward. “No. I think you’re out of luck.” She scanned around the bus some more. “And everyone else is taken,” she added. I fake-grimaced. “Oh well. We’ll make do.” We were the last stop before the billabong, and the bus wasn’t very full. I had only been canoeing there a few times, so I didn’t know how full the bus got. I recalled that more people usually took the trip. Yuln’s daughter, my pip-niece, Shik, took our agitated surveying of the bus’ population as a cue. Sitting just behind us, she got out of her chair and sway-walked to the back of the bus. “That’ll keep Kluu busy,” noted Kwuu. Shik, slightly shorter than Kluu, had tagged along at the recommendation of her “aunt”, Kwuu-and-Kluu’s mother. I was sitting closest to the aisle. I looked past Kwuu to watch the trees fly behind as we drove down the bumpy, dusty road. We had arranged things perfectly... with the help of Kwuu’s mother. Where was Oonj?
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November 12, 2011 Just to double-check, I raised up my head and scanned around the bus for Oonj. He wasn’t there. Kwuu was correct, unfortunately. I disguised my search by taking the opportunity to sit on my knees... so my tail wouldn’t go numb against the flat cushion. “So what are we going to do?” asked Kwuu. “Follow the plan.” “So we ditch them for the day. They get bored. They head back in the afternoon. We stay the night.” I rose once again to look for Oonj. He wasn’t there. Some of the other guys weren’t bad, but they were already part of a couple. The Hominid driver turned his steering wheel right to follow the winding, bumpy road. We passed a village smaller than ours. Since no-one was standing by the road, the driver kept going. “Have you heard anything from Unyah?” asked Kwuu. I didn’t notice... kind of... and I feigned not hearing. “Hear anything form Unyah?” “No,” falling on the default story, “She must be travelling around.” “Oh. So you’re home by yourself still?” “Yeah.” I gave a long, sad blink to myself. 398 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I looked across the aisle, and out at the floodplain to the right. Maybe Kwuu had some news. “Have you heard anything from Unyah?” I asked. Kwuu slid her eyes to her left, knowingly. “No.” An evasive look. “Not much. No letters. Just an impression.” Pause. “I think she’s a bit overwhelmed.” I wasn’t sure how Kwuu knew, but I thought I knew how she knew. Obviously, Unyah hadn’t returned. I waited for more news. Kwuu looked around to make sure no-one was listening. “It’s a bit different up there,” she said. And then she decided not to say anymore. “Have you ever thought about going?” Kwuu asked. This time I looked about. “No. Not that interested.” “I have,” said Kwuu. “Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.” She thought. “I don’t know. I don’t know... I don’t know if anything will hit me here.” She held her hand on her stomach. I eye-smiled. My planning for the future hadn’t looked ahead that far.
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November 12, 2011 I looked around for Oonj again while I shifted, sitting on one crossed-leg, the other hanging off the bus seat. Oonj wasn’t there.
THE ROW BOAT Shik, my pip-niece, stayed on shore, playing around in the grass by the dock. Kluu, unfortunately, tagged along. With three people, we were allowed to take out the rowboat. He sat in back. I was on the right, Kwuu on the left. Both of us had a paddle. We didn’t know how to row, so each of us leaned over our side with our paddle. Oars with proper oar-mounts would have worked better... but we didn’t know they existed, didn’t check for oar mounts, and didn’t notice any oars for the rowboat. Someone else may have snatched the oars for their canoe. Our paddling didn’t move us very rapidly. Paddling away from the dock, we avoided the two-meter tall reeds to the left. Canoe pathways jetted into the reeds. Behind us, a much-speedier couple rowed their canoe into one of the canoe-trails that traversed the reeds. At the end of the trail they would find privacy on a hidden shore. We avoided the reeds, and slowly followed the clear waterway as it looped around to the right. Kwuu turned around and asked her brother, “So Kluu, are you having a good time?” I kept on paddling. Our boat rotated slightly leftwards. 400 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yeah,” said Kluu in quiet voice. He didn’t sound happy. He was typically subdued though. “Is there anything you want to see?” poked Kwuu. Kluu looked at Kwuu, almost dazed. He didn’t answer. Kwuu turned forwards and resumed paddling to straighten out our boat. “The flamingos are usually up here a bit,” she said, turning behind briefly. Kwuu knew what she was doing. Just at the bend, Kwuu “accidentally” leaned over the edge of the boat a bit too far while she was paddling. The rowboat tilted to the left a hand deeper than usual. I happened to notice Kluu, who thinking that he was going to tip out of the boat as it leaned, scuttled himself to the right side of his narrow seat. His eyes were wide... He didn’t like the water. Kwuu didn’t look back quickly enough, and missed the brief panic. But she knew. “Sorry,” she said nonchalantly, as she tilted her head. We continued rowing. “The flamingos are just ahead, Kluu,” I commented with a quick look back. “They’re really interesting to watch,” Kwuu added, seemingly concentrating on paddling. There was no response from the back. Kluu was most-likely chewing on his cap. I never understood the purpose of caps. They were a male thing.
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November 12, 2011 We rounded the bend to where the flamingos usually hid out. Every time I had been at the billabong before, the flamingos were much further up the river, and I never got to see them. They were huge, standing two meters above the shallows, their knees halfway above the water. (I was about 1.6 meters tall.) We raised paddles and slowed to a stop, our boat slowly rotating in the mild current. “Cool,” I exclaimed quietly. Kwuu just sat, soaking in their sight. Thinking. Kluu gazed at them intently, coming out of his hiding shell for a moment. He seemed to spend more time glancing worriedly at the water. I leaned over the side of the boat to grab some water, washing and cool my face. The boat tipped deeply to the right as I did so, but Kluu didn’t notice... or at least the concern on his face didn’t grow. One flamingo dipped his head towards the water, dug into the submerged mud immediately below with his beak, and grabbed something to eat as it swam away. I watched. Kwuu was mesmerized. Kluu’s mouth gaped open a bit. Kwuu interrupted the silence. “I wonder if they bite.” It was a rhetorical question. “What do you think Kluu?” asked Kwuu, looking at him. That worked. Kluu’s eyes widened in realization, as if to say, “They bite?!?” 402 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I hope not,” I added slyly. We watched intently as another giant flamingo scrounged some food. Frogs didn’t taste very good. Maybe the flamingo was flushing out small fish or mud yabbies. Kwuu continued to prod. “You know Kluu, I could look at them all day.” I didn’t perceive the hint about where Kwuu was taking the conversation. Kwuu tapped me on my shoulder. Confused, I momentarily glared at her until I understood what she was up to. “Yeah, we could spend all day watching them, ” I added. Kluu wasn’t paying attention. “I’m into ornithology, you know,” reinforcing the point. “Shen might have to spend an hour or two observing them so she can write a paper.” That didn’t work; Kluu sank into himself. We watched the flamingos some more while Kwuu thought. “Kluu,” she asked, “do you have any idea what happened to Oonj? He was supposed to ride on the bus and meet Shen here.” Something broke through Kluu’s trance. He gave a wary look, “No.” “Shen thinks he’s cute,” added Kwuu, directed at her younger brother. Kluu’s eyes glanced about. His brain was chewing on the hints. “She really liked Oonj’s green cap,” said Kwuu with an eye-smile. Turning towards Kluu again, “Your orange one is much nicer,” and then an eye-smile towards me to ensure I wasn’t insulted by her ploy. 403 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I wasn’t. Kluu looked left and right nervously, and then down at his cap in hand. “We DO like to talk about boys, you know,” I chimed in. I wondered if I should have said “men” instead of “boys”. “And pink ornithology,” eye-smiled Kwuu. Kwuu wasn’t interested in men. She lost momentum. “Oonj has a cute nose, don’t you think,” added Kwuu a moment later, her eyebrows raised and eyes smiling. Kwuu followed up: “He covers it [his nose] with his cap too much.” That would get to Kluu. Kluu slunk his head in embarrassment.
CANOEING With Kluu left on the dock, we ditched the awkward rowboat and grabbed a canoe. Being tipsy, the red canoe took us awhile to board. I first sat in the back, closest to the shore. Kwuu waded out to the front, waist-high, and tried to hop in. That didn’t work. So she swung the canoe around, with me still sitting in it, stepped in without tipping the canoe into the water. We shoved off. Kluu wandered off, probably looking for Shik.
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November 12, 2011 We started out, both rowing on the right, and turned our canoe into the deeper water. Two canoe-lengths away from the dock, we pulled off our shirts; I was first. The sun’s rays felt good, although our fur heated up quickly, being darker than our shirts. We paddled another length, then I yelled out, “Wait” to Kwuu. With some effort, I shimmied my shorts off. Might as well. No children were around. And we were likely to tip the boat and get our clothes wet, so having them off was better. Kwuu’s pants were already wet. She got the idea, and with embarrassing difficulty, pried her shorts off. While we disrobed, our canoe drifted sideways to the left, and sliced into the twometer tall reeds. With reeds mostly on our left, we both rowed on the right... and pushed our canoe further into the reeds. Before long, our inept seamanship led us a boat-length headfirst into the reed forest. “This’ll look bad [if anyone ever sees us],” remarked Kwuu. She tried back-paddling. I followed her lead, but that didn’t work. Paddling forward didn’t get us much headway either. My paddle was pulled from my hand by a reed cluster. “Wait!” I yelled to Kwuu up front. She turned around to see me fishing my paddle out of the water. “This isn’t working,” she said. “Let’s just pull ourselves out of here.” Kwuu grabbed some reeds in front of her and pulled. I did the same. We eventually managed to turn our canoe to the right and pull ourselves outside the reed-bed. 405 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Suffering only the embarrassment of having been seen to row out of the reeds a minute after having accidentally entering, we resumed paddling up the billabong. “Where to?” asked Kwuu “Far enough away to kill some time.” I answered “Past the flamingos then?” We once-again rounded the bend where the flamingos were fish-shopping. Instead of wading along the shore like before, the flock had scattered around the waterway, walking up to their bodies into the deeper water. So THAT was how deep the channel was, I thought. We rowed through the flock. Most of the birds were to our right, in the shallowest area. Three were close by, to our left. One of the birds to our left arched down its normally vertical neck, and clacked at us. This made me nervous. The flamingos had a reputation. Paddles supposedly provided some protection against an angry flamingo. “Faster,” I chirped. Kwuu looked back at me, and then at the approaching angry flamingo, and directed her concentration towards paddling. I too rowed, but my concentration was divided between rowing, looking back at the approaching flamingo, and worrying about my neck. From various tales I heard, flamingo beaks really-really hurt, and they preferred to go for necks. My neck was quite exposed. Kwuu did most of the rowing. My rowing effort was more token, with most of my effort was spent watching my exposed back. We picked up speed and rounded the bend of the river, to the right. The irate flamingo gave up its chase. 406 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When we were well clear, we both pulled up paddles and regained our breath. And looked behind... The grumpy one returned back to the flock. Rest. “Let’s keep going for a bit,” I muttered. I didn’t want to get chased by more alreadyirate flamingos. “Yeah,” Kwuu agreed. “Maybe they won’t be so ornery when we return in a few hours.” While drifting during our rest, I took time to notice the scenery. We were slowly turning on a wide part of the billabong, with around thirty meters of clear water between reedy shores. Finches twitted on the reeds. A kingfisher sat on one of the scraggly trees that overtopped the tall reeds. Ten minutes later, we resumed our paddling. “I hate this place,” muttered Kwuu... I think she said that. I’m not sure. Or I may have said it. Kwuu most-definitely said, “No. I don’t hate this place. I like it. The stress of the flamingo-pursuit was talking.” I gave Kwuu a glum look; I don’t think she noticed. “I don’t know,” she added. “I’m just restless.” She scanned around for danger. Returning to her task, Kwuu took up paddling again. I followed. We rowed half way to the next bend. “Let’s get to shore,” I said. “I gotta pee.” I hadn’t stopped at the grotty and reeking toilets of the restaurant. 407 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Kwuu gave a nod, and pointed forward and right. “See those trees,” fifty meters ahead, and the next rightward bend of the billabong. “Let’s head for there.” Several trees shaded a small peninsula carpeted with short, green grass. “Sounds good.” I resumed paddling on my right, and unskilfully steered the boat to the left before Kwuu had a chance to grab her paddle and push hard on the left.
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November 12, 2011 She eventually heaved us back on course and towards the peninsula.
LUNCH We soon landed the front of our canoe on the shore. Without waiting for Kwuu to get out and stabilize the canoe, I jumped out into the deep end and waded ashore. By the time I climbed up to the land, Kwuu had pulled some lunch out of bag and was preparing to step out of the canoe. I didn’t wait for her. I needed to find some privacy. Underneath the trees, the grass was trampled down by the flamingos. It was a nice spot to rest. I walked to the back, towards some tall grass. On the way, I passed an old campfire. No surprise. Camping out here would be nice at night. Beyond the campfire I found the tall grass, and relieved myself.
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November 12, 2011 Refreshed, I returned back to the canoe and Kwuu. She was sitting down by the bank, four packed sandwiches next to her. “Oops,” Kwuu said when she saw me, “We have small sandwiches for Kluu and Shik.” Eyes rolled cornerwise, expecting a rebuke back home. “Oh well,” Kwuu muttered. Sitting down, I unwrapped my ham sandwich and took a bite. “There’s a campfire back there,” I mentioned, pointing with my fingers. “Really,” Kwuu said. “I suppose it’s a nice place to camp out.” Kwuu grimaced. “I don’t know,” she said to herself. Kwuu had changed the topic of conversation. “I don’t really want to leave this place.” She lost me; I didn’t follow. Kwuu scrunched the left side of her mouth and looked around. She took another bite, and then looked up at the blue sky. I leaned forward, cupped some river water into my left hand, and drank. Kwuu was still looking up when I sat back on my butt. What was up there? I gave a sideways glance up also. The sky was pure blue-grey, with only a single triangular-shaped cloud breaking the sky. I didn’t make anything of it. Kwuu may have. Kwuu returned her attention food-ward, grabbed her sandwich, and bit. 410 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Chewing her sandwich, she looked at me intently. Nodding her head left and right, Kwuu got back to her issue: “It feels wrong now. Yesterday I was fine. Now I’m itching to get out.” She looked up again, this time at the cloud I had spotted. “Interesting how your mind changes when you visit someplace distant,” she added. “Yeah,” I said without understanding or conviction. We sat and finished our meal. “What time does the bus head back?” I asked. “Around three o’clock.” “Then I’ll take a nap so we will miss it,” I said with a verbal smile. Kwuu eye-smiled, and sat contemplatively knee-up. I laid back, looking up at the river-tree’s leaves, enjoying the sunlight twinkling through as the breeze-twiddled the leaves. And then I slept. I didn’t dream. Thoughts may have run through my mind though, as they sometimes did in place of dreams. I remembered that I should check out Unyah’s computer terminal when I got back. I awoke an hour or two later. Kwuu was sleeping on her side, hands between her legs. I got up quietly, and headed back to the tall grass to relieve myself again. Grass was preferable to the grungy toilets at the restaurant. 411 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After watering the grass, I chose to waste time on the way back. I wanted to make sure to miss the return-bus so that Kluu and Shik wouldn’t stay the night with us. The campfire being the only interesting feature in the area, I took a closer look at it. The fire was at least a week old, or older. Inside the fire ring, burnt by the fire, were some old bones, probably deer cooked and discarded by some campers. And then I saw a skull... It was a Racoon skull. I froze. For a second, I morosely wondered if it was Oonj’s skull. I’m not sure why. Kwuu’s glum mood was getting to me. Oonj wouldn’t have died, or been burnt. He just forgot about the trip, or ran out of money, or had some work to do. The skull wasn’t old enough to be bleached white, though it was still fairly clean of “meat”. The local wildlife, maybe some small quolls, had picked it mostly clean. What do you do when you find a person’s skull? And perhaps their bones? I didn’t know. Kwuu should see her skull. I picked up the skull in both hands, somewhat reverently. I certainly didn’t want to pick her up by her eye sockets. Carrying her skull, I returned to where Kwuu was sleeping. “Kwuu,” I said in a gentle “wake up” tone. She stirred. “Kwuu. Look at this.” Blearily, Kwuu looked up at me. 412 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Holding the skull level on top both my flattened hands, I lowered it to her sitting-up height. Her eyes widened in shock. “Where did you find her!?” she asked. Neither Kwuu nor I knew if the skull was from a him or her. Being women, we defaulted to “her”. It was part of our language. “Back there, in the fire circle,” I answered. Kwuu got up, and examined the skull in my hands... from a distance. She wouldn’t touch it. Forgetting me, she then walked warily back to the fire circle. I followed her, carrying the skull. I hadn’t expected her to react so strongly. A meter away from the “deer” bones, she stopped “What should we do?” I asked. Kwuu didn’t answer. I examined the skull to get ideas. “Should we take her back to show people?” Kwuu looked at me and raised her eyebrows to indicate, “I don’t know.” “We could put her in your lunch bag.” Kwuu gave no reply, but looked up with an odd expression. I began to head back with the skull, to place it in her lunch bag. “No,” answered Kwuu. “Leave her here.” “Put her back were you found her.” 413 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Are you sure?” I asked. “No,” she said uncertainly. “What do you think?” “I don’t know.” I examined the skull once again, hoping that some feature of the skull would help me decide. I head bobbed left and right in indecision. After some intuitive thought, I concluded that leaving the skull here sounded reasonable. “Sounds good,” I answered.
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November 12, 2011 I placed her skull back, exactly where I found it. When I stood up and looked at Kwuu, she was gazing skywards at a whiff of cloud.
THAT NIGHT By the time we paddled our canoe back to the dock, Kluu and Shik had returned home. Fortunately, the flamingos didn’t present a problem on the way back. By that time, they had parked themselves on the shore for the night, folding their giant legs underneath them. Picking up our bags from the restaurant, the Hominid man directed us to a three-bed cabin, which we had all to ourselves.
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November 12, 2011 The cabin was a concrete floor with a tar-papered ply roof, walled in, to create a large main room with three beds. A yellow light hung from the central roof beam. A toilet room was partitioned off in the corner. One-third of the cabin was a mosquito-netted veranda, with a light, table, and a few chairs. Another cabin was across the dirt road, and up a bit. Two couples from the bus stayed there, one of whom was Oonj’s ranger friend. Treating ourselves out instead of eating the pips’ sandwiches, we stopped by the restaurant and ordered deep-fried calamari (imported from the ocean) and deepfried onions. I had a soda. Kluu got a beer. Twenty minutes later, the man behind the counter walked out of his small kitchen with our food. As we walked out into the twilight, I asked, “Do you want to eat by the water?” Kwuu thought, and twitched her left lip up. “Naw, let’s eat in our cabin.” We crossed the parking area with our food bundles, walked up the road fifty meters, and into our cabin. I turned on the yellow light above the table. The other cabin was still dark; the two couples must have been off walking somewhere. Our plans ruined, I wondered about Oonj’s friend. We could stop by after eating and ask after Oonj. That question would be enough of an excuse, although it might be seen as a rude insult towards Oonj’s absence... and Oonj’s friend was already part of a couple. Kwuu arranged the steel chairs so that we could lean back with our feet propped up on the table, back to the wall, and look out over the road and restaurant. No-one moved outside. It was quiet except for the crickets. 416 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Could you turn the light off here and turn the one on inside,” requested Kwuu. Less light would be better, letting us see more clearly into the darkness outside our veranda. I flipped the light switches and returned to my chair, propping up my feet next to Kwuu’s. The Hominid restaurant-owner shut off his lights and disappeared into his house behind the restaurant. Darkness descended. Kwuu sipped her beer from the bottle. She looked and “felt” glum. “I’m glad we ditched the pips,” I said awkwardly, trying to spur the conversation. Kwuu’s eye twitched. “Yeah,” she said forlornly. There was an awkward pause. “Who do you think that [skull] was?” asked Kwuu. I didn’t know how to answer. I thought about the times I heard of Racoon people “going travelling”, and never returning. “I don’t know... I don’t know that I want to know.” We both sipped our drinks. I took a few bites of the calamari, dipped in tomato sauce. “Do you think that will happen to us?” pondered Kwuu. That was an odd question.
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November 12, 2011 Sequentially, Kwuu should have asked, “Who do you think killed her?” She didn’t need to ask. Racoons didn’t fight and then kill one another. None of trusted the Hominids though. Automatically grabbing a piece of fried onion, I wondered if the food was drugged. Both our drinks had been sealed... I think. “Deep-fried food can’t contain any drugs, can it?” Kwuu’s eyes slid left. “I don’t think so,” she answered thoughtfully. She sipped her beer and ate some deep-friend onions. Neither of us used the tomato dipping-sauce after that. It could easily have been poisoned. “Just think about where we are,” stated Kwuu. “There are a handful of buildings here,” she went on. “Lots of nothing.” “Our village is way-way that way.” She pointed down the road to her right. “Beyond that are the Hominids.” “What else is here?” I thought Kwuu was changing the subject. Not getting her point, I answered, “We have no idea where any of these roads go.” “True,” answered Kwuu flatly, followed by a handful and a sip. 418 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “But,” she continued, “Where did her skeleton, or his skeleton, come from?” I stepped ahead in the conversation. “Maybe the flamingos rummaged through the bones.” “The quolls must have cleaned him up,” I added. Kwuu thought briefly about Kluu and Shik... or I did. We heard a faint hum to our left. Lore had it that you should change the conversation when hearing an invisible hum. And then you should pretend not to hear the sound. We paused. The conversation was redirected to something innocuous. “They seem to be in, across the street.” I said. “Do you think one of them would be interested?” It was the best I could do at the moment. Kwuu nodded left and right, “Probably not. They’re couples.” “So what do we do now?” “Enjoy the silence,” Kwuu answered, with an ear tilted towards the invisible, quiet hum. I sipped my drink, and then finished up my grease. Kwuu still had some food left. The hum moved to our right. “Do you like doing laundry?” asked Kwuu as her ears tracked the sound. “Nah,” I answered. “Maybe you should get a different job, in the other village.” I didn’t follow. 419 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “What would I do there?” I asked cluelessly. Kwuu’s voice grew louder. “Who knows, maybe something will come up. The [Hominid] women are always looking for help.” “Yuln [Shik’s Aunt] always has plenty for me to do,” I answered without thinking. “Just a thought,” said Kwuu, as she glanced at the invisible sound. We sat silently, slowly finishing our drinks. Kwuu ended up tossing half her food outside.
DON’T MENTION THE SKULL A bus returned us to our village the next morning, dropping us half a kilometre from my house, near an abandoned pub. I could have left Kwuu at that point and walked directly home, but I didn’t wish to return to an empty house; Unyah wouldn’t be there. 420 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I followed Kwuu home without comment from her. Kwuu’s mother, Sharah, opened the house’s door and stepped out before we were halfway up the path. Her eyes were scrunched, head held down. She looked worried. Speaking in her odd distant-village accent, Sharah began the discussion immediately, “Where are Kluu and Shik?” The question didn’t make sense to me. Shik was more-closely related to me. Since Kluu was her brother, Kwuu answered, “They went home yesterday.” “Are you sure?” interrogated Sharah. “Yes,” Kwuu answered. I added, “They took the bus home before we got back.” “Back from where?” more interrogation. Kwuu was quiet, thinking. I didn’t. “When we came back from canoeing.” Kwuu looked worried. “When did you last see them?” Kwuu meekly joined in, “We last saw them just before we went canoeing.” “What time?” “It was before lunch.” “And when did you return?” “An hour before sunset,” I responded this time.
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November 12, 2011 “So you didn’t see them take the bus.” A statement from Sharah, not a question. “No,” replied Kwuu. When I glanced at Kwuu I noticed she was very worried; I had just started to clue in. Sharah was exasperated, and came to an immediate conclusion: “Yuln had word from a whisper,” our term for helper spirit. “She’s heard that Shik is dead.” “Shit,” I muttered. Kwuu was silent in concentration. “They didn’t return home then?” asked Kwuu pointlessly. Her mother reached for some more information. “Who else was on the bus [going out]?” “Three couples besides us,” Kwuu said. “Two of the couples stayed the night.” “Who came back on the bus this morning?” I responded, “Us and a few other people waiting at the restaurant.” Sharah gave a questioning look. “Did the couples that stayed the night return?” “No,” answered Kwuu. A scowl from Sharah. “So of the group that went yesterday, you were the only ones to return?” I thought. 422 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Kwuu was quicker. “Yes”. Sharah started tidying up. “I have to go tell Yuln and the others.” As she closed the door to leave, she added, “We already informed the others to keep an eye out for the two pips.” Sharah walked away down the path intensely. Kwuu forlornly opened the door her mother had just closed. She entered, and I followed. Her bags deposited, Kwuu sat down on her bed, head tilted down, and thought. I sat on the ground, cross-legged. “Do you think we should have kept his skull?” she asked. I didn’t know. “No. He was better left there,” I answered. “Damn,” Kwuu added as her hands bunched up her sheets. I was going to say, “Maybe they’ll turn up.” But then Kwuu would have said, “Maybe, but I don’t think so.”
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November 12, 2011
THE TERMINAL The next few days were sad and worrisome. Neither Shik nor Kluu turned up. The other couples hadn’t returned either. News from the next village informed us that, Oonj had gone travelling “on business”... which meant that he wasn’t expected to return... ever... which meant no one knew what happened to him. Neither of us mentioned the skull to Sharah, Yuln, or the other adults. The skull didn’t seem important at times. And then it seemed important at other times. And then I (at least) was too embarrassed to mention it. And then I forgot about mentioning it. 424 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And then I felt stupid for not mentioning it previously. A small hole, once dug, becomes deeper. I didn’t help Yuln with her laundry work. I couldn’t face her, having lost her child, and the prospect of experiencing her grief. I wouldn’t be able to answer any of her questions. Nor did I wish to answer her questions. Mostly, I moped around inside. I made attempts to clean the house. I pulled some weeds just around my house. Kwuu didn’t stop by either, and I didn’t expect it. I had rarely talked to her before the trip, spending most of my time with her sister, Unyah... who had flown off. I did hope she would visit though. But then again, I didn’t seek her out. Nor did I stop by Sharah to learn more. I merely moped. A few days after returning, I remembered that I should remember to check Unyah’s computer terminal and see if she had sent me any E-mail. Weeds having been pointlessly pulled, I opened the kitchen cupboard and rummaged in the back for the hidden computer terminal. We kept it well out of Hominid sight, just in case the Hominid woman showed up for an inspection. The Hominids weren’t ever to see it. They knew what computers were, we thought, but Unyah’s UFO team didn’t want them to know we had one. The computer terminal was a flat screen about 40 cm x 25 cm. It had a flexible roll-up keyboard that would survive if it got wet. The terminal didn’t do so well when it got wet though. A year before, we had water leak from the sink, onto the counter, down the back wall, and into the terminal. It didn’t survive. Unyah brought back a replacement the next time she went on a trip. 425 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This new terminal was now kept far away from the sink, on the bottom shelf, behind a lot of little-used cups and take-away containers. Red-back spiders sometimes lived there; I didn’t want to reach in. Carefully peering into the shadowy back, I reached in and pulled out the terminal and keyboard. I moved it across to a board (impromptu desk) resting on Unyah’s bed. I plugged the keyboard in. I turned the terminal on. The white and orange screen lit up. A three-by-two grid of large boxes filled the screen, each displaying a large icon, one or two words of text, and a keyboard-letter to select the option. One of the options was for education, which I had occasionally tried. Another was for games. They were boring. I clicked on the key to bring up E-mail. Unyah had showed me how to use the terminal’s E-mail so that I might be able to communicate with her if she were gone a long time. The three-by-two grid disappeared, and the E-mail display lit up. Deciphering the display and non-Racoon language, I could see that there were some old E-mails. And there were three new ones. I pressed a key to read the first one:
Hello. This is a test. Did you get this? 426 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
That was over a week ago.
I am trying again. Why won’t you read this thing. Can’t you remember to read this? I am fine. Stuff is strange here. Hominids are different. People smell weird.
Four days ago.
If you ever read this, say hi to everyone, Kwuu, my mother, Yuln, Staff, and Kwary. Crap this place is weird. Tell them I’m still off on business. Please check this. Press the star button to reply.
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November 12, 2011
The star button was a static image of a twinkling star displayed on the screen. I couldn’t press it, but it had an associated key on the keyboard.
I typed Unyah a return message.
People are missing. Kluu and Shik disappeared.
Should I break the bad news to her over a computer? I thought about the impropriety of it, and wasn’t sure. I decided to leave the text in.
People are missing. Kluu and Shik disappeared. We found a Racoon skull near the flamingos too. How are you doing? How long until I get a reply to this? When do I check for new messages? 428 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
I sent of the E-mail.
DON’T GO BACK THERE AGAIN Most of the food I ate was nature-bought. Occasional work would earn me money for the store, where I could purchase foods like jams and butter. Because I didn’t want to face Yuln and discuss her missing daughter, or even be forced to think about her daughter’s death, I didn’t get any work. So I didn’t have much money, so I spent even more time foraging.
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November 12, 2011 Trees would drop nuts in season. Berries occurred before then. Flowers were even edible. The nearby creek was an excellent place for food. Its trickling course sported a few deep waterholes with rocks. Underneath and around the rocks were yabbies (large crayfish). Every day, I would walk to a different waterhole, wade in, and pull up rocks until I found a decent yabbie. I’d eat the tail, and the claws if they were large enough. Raw was better than cooked, except when tomato sauce was available for dipping. I’d tear the yabbie’s body in half, placing the pieces on either end of the shallow parts of the waterhole. The remains of the tail and claws I’d place in other shallow areas. Sometimes I’d use small stones to hold down the floating meat. Other yabbies would be attracted to the dead meat. All I had to do was wait. All subsequent yabbies that I caught were cannibal yabbies, and therefore moremorally edible... that’s what Unyah had said.
On the other side of the creek was a cyclone fence with barbed wire on top. The hairs (Hominid men) had erected it a few years ago. Before the fence was put up, as a pip, I would wander the floodplain (and mushy field) on the other side. The field didn’t contain much food though, other than the occasional flower. Beyond that was a forest, and more creeks. Now there was a fence. Over a kilometre beyond the fence-line were some buildings that the hairs had erected. I assumed that the Hominids lived there. I didn’t think to think about what they did there though.
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November 12, 2011 1970’s style trucks would enter and leave the distant buildings. They had no gate on our village’s side. It must have been in another fence-line, several kilometres away. Our side had no entrance... kind of. Pine trees grew along both sides of the fence. It would have been easy to climb up one pine tree, leap across to another tree, and the climb down. Some trees touched, and were so close you could practically walk across the boughs. I never tried. Some of the Raccoon men (or boys) had; they didn’t recommend entering the fenced hairs-village since the Hominids tended to shoot anyone in their territory. After eating my fill of yabbies, I returned home, prepared to take an afternoon nap. My fur was wet. Naps were particularly welcome with wet fur. Unyah’s terminal came to mind on my way home. I decided to check it out and see if I had any more E-mail. I washed up when I returned home, and then pulled the terminal out from its hiding spot. After turning it on, I pressed the E-mail button. There were two new messages:
What happened to Kluu and Shik? You can type more than three sentences you idiot!
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November 12, 2011 And there was another one:
I just learned some more. You should tell my mother about the skull. It’s all related. Don’t tell anyone where I am though. I just got into some trouble and won’t be returning for awhile.
I decided a nap was less important than Unyah’s task. Fifteen minutes later, I was at Kwuu’s and Unyah’s mother’s house: “Did Kwuu mention the skull to you?” I asked, trying to hide the hole I had begun digging. I still hadn’t told Sharah about Unyah’s space trip, either. Sharah was hanging her sheets in the sun. She turned around. Her eyes narrowed. “No.” She paused. “What skull?” Damn, I thought. “When we went canoeing, we found a [Racoon] skull.” Her eyes widened. “Where?” 432 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Beyond the flamingos. In a week-old fire circle.” “What did she look like?” I didn’t understand the context of the question. “Was her skull bashed in? Were there other bones?” “No. He was undamaged. A few other bones were in the fire.” Sharah could certainly interrogate. “Were there any clothes?” “I didn’t see any.” “Do you know how she... er he... got there?” “No. The flamingos may have played with his skull and bones.” “The flamingos wouldn’t have carried him though. Nor would they have killed him.” Sharah gave a grumpy look. “How many other people have disappeared there?” How would I know? Sharah was both talking to herself and lecturing me about not telling her about the skull. “It would be impossible to tell, wouldn’t it? Because too many people pass through there to get to other villages.” She squinted at me. “You are too closed-mouth.” “I wouldn’t recommend going back there,” she added. I had thought the same. 433 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I have to go tell everyone else about the skull,” Sharah said with a scowl. “You haven’t seen Kwuu, have you?” Was Kwuu dead? Sharah must have read my facial expression. “She left home just before you arrived. You might have seen her as you were walking here.” As I walked away, Sharah was tidying herself up, planning to walk off and talk to some neighbours about the skull.
DEAD I returned home and, although my fur was mostly dried by then, I lay down for a nap. Waking up a few hours later, the skull forgotten, I visited the sink to get a drink of water. The terminal was still out and left on. A screensaver of bouncing lines had appeared. I shouldn’t have left it out. I checked for new E-mail messages. None had arrived. I hid the terminal back underneath the counter. Being close to dinnertime, I undertook some more nature shopping. I found some berries along the creek. They were bitter, but free. Visiting a different yabbie pool, I waded in and grabbed a few yabbies for a small dinner. I returned home just before sunset. My head had begun to ache... actually, it wasn’t my head. It was my brain that ached. 434 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I fell asleep. I woke up once in the middle of the night, finding it difficult to breathe. And then I went back to sleep. “You’re dead,” indicated a quiet telepathic voice. “We’ll put you with your half-sister for now.”
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THE INJECTION Several weeks before, while Kwuu, Kluu, Shik, and I were at the billabong... Kluu hobbled off the boat, glad to be on the security and motionlessness of land. He had enough of his big sister and her friend... and all their hints. While Shen and his sister hauled the rowboat ashore, Kluu wandered around, and then off... away from the water. The closest way away from the sparkling-blue motion was the dirt road. Kluu thought he’d adventure up it a bit and see if he could find anyone to talk to. He couldn’t. The road was deserted, except for a few “Ta ta” lizards. (Gilbert’s dragons) Kluu took some time to wave at them. They waved back. 436 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When he approached them, they scuttled up some trees. He walked up to one of the trees where a lizard had fled. It climbed around to the other side and then much higher up. Oh well. Kluu walked back towards the restaurant. He briefly walked alongside the billabong to see if anyone was around. He could find no-one. Nothing to do. Kluu sat down, pulled some hairs of grass with his hand, and threw them into the water, or rather, towards it. They fluttered down, not far from his outstretched hand. No one was around. Kluu wondered if he should have stayed on the boat with his sisters... and then what? Watch flamingos all day? And get ill from the rocking of the boat? No. It didn’t matter. Kluu was ashore now. Where to? How long until his sisters returned and took him home? What now? Kluu decided to stop by the restaurant, which was more of a food store. He didn’t have any money, but someone that he could talk to might be inside. Kluu opened the creaking flyscreen door of the store. Inside were a few shelves of preserved food, a counter with a cash register, and a single shellacked wooden table with two benches. 437 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Sitting on one bench was Shik, head resting on her folded arms. Bored. Shik was smaller than Kluu, so he thought he should act older... more mature. He walked up to her. “Hi,” he said. “Hi,” said Shik. Not much of a conversation yet. What was next? Kluu sat down on the bench opposite. “My sister ditched me.” “Yeah.” Pause. “I’m going to take the bus back.” “Sounds good to me,” answered Kluu. Shik eye-smiled and nodded her head playfully. “Do you need to tell them?” asked Shik. Kluu thought. “No, they’ll figure out that I left.” Pause. “Not much to do here,” commented Shik. “No.” Awkward pause. Kluu was going to ask if Shik wanted to go for a walk. The storeowner approached, entering from a room behind the counter. He was a Hominid man wearing brown-blue pants and a white shirt. “Do you pips want anything to eat?” 438 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We don’t have any money,” answered Kluu. “I do!” retorted Shik. “But I just spent most of it on some candy.” The man paused. Kluu couldn’t read his face. “I’ll tell you what,” said the man. “I can get you a bite to eat.” Kluu looked up expectantly. “But first, you have to accept a vaccination.” Kluu couldn’t read the man’s facial expression. “Do you know what a vaccination is?” Kluu knew, and he knew Shik did to. “Sure. One of the women from your village comes around once in awhile and injects them into keep us from getting sick.” “You’re a smart one,” winked the man. That was the only facial expression that Kluu had read. “Are you game?” asked the man. “Yes,” answered Kluu. He didn’t think to bargain in advance for what food he’d get for accepting the vaccination. “And you?” the man looked at Shik. “Sure,” accepted Shik, following Kluu’s lead. “Good. Come on back behind the counter and I’ll get out two vaccines.” Kluu and Shik followed the man behind the counter, and into a small storeroom. The room already had one chair. The man soon brought in another, and both pips sat down, legs dangling.
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November 12, 2011 “Just a minute,” said the man. He walked out of the store room and returned two minutes later, carrying two small 2.0 mm syringes, with short needles. He kneeled down to Kluu’s level. “You’re first, since you’re the bravest.” Kluu held out his left arm, as he had done many times when the village children had been vaccinated. The man slid the needle into Kluu’s arm, and squeezed in the vaccine juice. Shik was next. Kluu’s eyes sleepily shut fifteen seconds later. Blank. Dead. Children’s Racoon jackets sell for A$40.00 in Azcruk.
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DEAD AGAIN I leapt from the branches of one pine tree, to the next. I felt like I was in a dream. I climbed down the other pine, but it wasn’t me who was climbing. In front of me stood a Hominid in a blue uniform, wearing a helmet. I had seen him climb down the tree before me. He was awfully short for a Hominid. And his tail stuck out of his oversized trousers. 441 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For some reason, this didn’t seem odd to me. When my feet touched the moist ground underneath the tree, I noticed that I couldn’t see well. I was wearing a helmet, with a plastic face-piece that was flattening my nose. It was also difficult to breathe. Why was I wearing a helmet? I tried to take it off. My hands headed towards the helmet and then disobeyed me. They returned to my side. Was I dreaming? I followed the short Hominid man in front of me. I wondered about the tail. Did I get drunk? Did someone convince me to do some crazy stunt while I was drunk? I hadn’t gotten drunk before though. I realized that I was walking awkwardly in oversized boots. I didn’t recall putting them on. Nor the blue-grey clothes I was wearing. I don’t know how I knew they were bluegrey. Their colour didn’t show well by starlight. What was happening? I couldn’t control my muscles all the time. Dreamlike, I followed the Hominid man... more likely a Racoon dressed up in one of the Hominid uniforms. 442 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We slunk through a broad field, at night. I occasionally looked up from the ground, towards a few distant buildings lit by small lights. That was our destination. The Hominid women always talked about hell. I wondered if I was there. If this was hell, it didn’t look like what I expected. Forgetting that I was trying to figure out where I was, I forgot to worry about where I was. I think I fell asleep. But my body kept walking. In front the other dressed-up Racoon were some real Hominid-men, also in uniforms. They were about twenty meters away, standing just outside a night-illuminated building. Imitating a Hominid walk in oversized boots and clothing, we walked right past them. They didn’t notice. The male Raccoon in front of me walked towards one tent, and then froze for a second. He nonchalantly pretended that he had made a mistake. Hominids must have been inside. He walked towards another tent. I followed, automatically, dreamlike. None of the Hominid men noticed us. It must have be the uniforms we were wearing. Was this a dream? The Raccoon I followed walked into the tent. 443 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It had a cross on its tent-flap door. After he motioned with his hand, I followed. The tent was dark inside. After he searched around in the dark for a minute, my Racoon companion pulled out a small object that was a flashlight, and turned it on. He pointed it at a chest, which he then opened up. He gleefully danced from foot to foot when he saw what was inside. He didn’t say anything. He was very quiet. Reaching into the chest, my companion grabbed two guns and handed them to me. I put one in each pocket. He did the same with two more guns, while trying to hold a third. He pulled some silvery-opalescent balls out of the chest, and handed five to me. He held about four. Each ball had a small LCD display on it. Below or beside the displays were small grey buttons. Showing instead of telling, my excited companion pressed one of my balls’ buttons a few times. The number on the display increased to 10.0. He shook the sphere like a Coke can, and then handed it back to me. The number was now blinking red. “You do the same,” he said quietly. “Quick!” I didn’t have to think about acting.
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November 12, 2011 My hands worked automatically. They set each bomb to approximately the same number, and then shook them. After all our bombs were set to go off, my Racoon companion rolled one of the bombs into the corner of the tent. We dashed out of the tent! He rolled one of the bombs towards another tent. My brain caught onto his strategy, and I rolled one of my bombs in another direction, towards a building. I was still in a dream. My hands rolled bombs automatically. We ran a bit further. We rolled more bombs towards other buildings, especially those with lights on inside. “Hey,” yelled one the Hominids. “What are you doing?” We ran! I had two bombs remaining, which I chucked behind me as I ran. I may have hit my companion on the head as he followed puffing behind me. I was half way to the fence when I was knocked down to the ground by an explosion. Blank. “You’re dead Kwuu... and Shen. We’ll pick you up in a moment.”
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November 12, 2011 One of the bombs was a ten kiloton efficient nuke. It had gone off, flattened all the buildings, and the Hominid men, and my friend who had been tackled, and me.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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MEMOIRES OF A THYLACINE by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
GROWING UP NOSE-LICKER As a child, I was a “nose-licker”, though I didn’t realize it at the time. The stereotypical nose-licker is a nerd-version of a Me, Thylacine-evolved (Zeen) Zeen, without the Hominid pocket-protector, Dungeons & Dragons, science-fiction, and computer-games. Noselickers are very-curious runts with an AspergerSyndrome-like personality. (All Zeen have mild AspergerSyndrome personalities.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pocket_protector, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_%26_Dragons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome) The worst nose-lickers look through people’s desks at school. I wasn’t that bad. I was a runt though. And I exhibited the stereotypical subconscious/nervous reaction of licking the bottom of the furless-portion of my nose when approached by a larger boy, or even a larger girl. 447 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Nose-lickers aren’t especially popular with their childhood piers. To tell the truth, I didn’t even notice that I was unpopular, or popular, or even think about the concept. With only one-other boy, and seven (or nine?) girls, in my village, popularity was hidden by statistical noise.
THE PLANET WHERE I GREW UP I grew up on a small planet, 4000-kilometers in diameter, approximately 0.7 g’s. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G-force) The planet was in Earth-Sol’s solar system, orbiting at 0.8 AU. People on Earth-Sol couldn’t see the planet because its orbit was NOT coplanar with the other planets in the solar-system... and it was hyper-dimensionally “rotated” so it couldn’t be seen... and we always had a giant several-thousand-kilometre circular-mask placed between the planet and Earth-Sol. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astronomical_unit) My home-planet planet isn’t in Earth-Sol’s solar-system at the moment. It was moved a few years ago, along with our other planets, so that the Hominoids wouldn’t take them over. The planet was mostly flat, as most low-budget planets are. It had no oceans, lakes, rivers, or streams, just a water table 10-100 meters below the surface of the planet. It rained ONCE while I was there. The planet was covered with fast-growing shrubby trees, like acacias and eucalypts. Grasses grew slowly underneath the sparse canopy. I lived about half-way between the equator and the north-pole. The poles and equator would have different flora, but I never visited either extreme.
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November 12, 2011 I never walked more than half-a-kilometre from the village where I grew up. I once visited a small-town elsewhere on the planet. However, I went shopping on the nextplanet-over nearly every week. Planets don’t rotate without a moon. I learned that when I was nine. But I don’t recall ever seeing a moon. We may have used a spare “core” from a battle-sphere. They are very dense, and can act as moons, in a pinch. The core would have been acquired from the previous war, or maybe the war before that. Cores are essentially black, and they blend-in with the night sky. Over time, core-moons fall into the planet because they’re too dense. Once every few years, someone would have-to hire a planetmover and wind-up the moon.
MY VILLAGE My village didn’t have a name, other than its coordinates, “42, 89.6”. One other boy, and seven (or nine) girls, lived in the village... and me and my mother. My teachers flew-in daily. That’s all I knew. The other children must-have had parents, so there would-have been about 40 people altogether, in a village smaller than one square-kilometre. We had a “take what you want” shed with canned food, toilet-paper, pens, and school-paper. It had an empty derelict-freezer. And a cork-board with community notices.
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My house was an arc of corrugated iron roofing/walls. It was 4-meters high, 8-meters wide, and 16-meters long. Vertical walls sealed-off both ends of the arc, one door at each end of the house. My bed was against the front wall, with my mother’s against the arc wall, half-way up. A mostly-dormant kitchenette was in the rear of the house, with a toilet and shower behind it. The backdoor led out to my mother’s spaceplane. People on Earth-Sol would call the interior furnishings “few and Spartan”. And the house, “trailer trash” accommodations. 30-meters in front of my house was a playground, originally a hard-soil sports-field. Further away and to the right was the village’s centre, a small corrugated-iron school. It had a half-hip roof that covered two classrooms and a sizable veranda. Houses similar to mine were placed disorderly-like around the school, some further into the “bush”. Anyone spying on our village’s structures from space, or with invisible cameras, would think we were unemployed waste-people. They never saw our 450 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 extradimensional spaceplanes, and if they did, they’d value them at the low-end of extradimensional.
ZEEN HISTORY Zeen have never been popular. But, we are popular than we were several-million years ago. We had some nice planets not-far from this taurosphere. 400 galactic-years ago (550 Earth-Sol years ago) some Hominoids got it into their heads to genocide us, which explains our rent-a-planet, core-moon, and “trailer trash” accommodations. Most of us were killed by the Hominoids, especially male Zeens. Hominoids ALWAYS think males are the centre of power. (While I’m writing this, some Aussies and Oonks have chimed-in to point-out that this perception-flaw is a Hominid thing.) After the Hominids nearly genocided us, perhaps the tenth-time an enemy has nearly genocided us, we scattered everywhere. It was the only way to hide from Hominoid battleships and assassins. We became so mobile that we began living on demountable “trailer”-planets, like the one I grew-up on. The nearby shopping-planet was also demountable, although it was more-urbanized, with 1920’s-style brick buildings. We intensely-dislike Hominoids.
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WHAT PEOPLE ON OUR PLANET DID Our planet wasn’t even a suburb planet. It was ninety-nine-percent wild, dotted with small rural-villages like mine. People in the villages raised children. They also had other jobs: We protected Earth-Sol... kind-of... We’re not big on protecting. Our hour-to-hour attention span is quite short. We do enjoy blowing-up Hominoid ships though, particularly ones from Azcruk. We also operated labs to genetically-modify the Hominids on Earth-Sol, undoing all of the crap genetic-manipulation that the non-Earth-Sol Hominids did to themselves. Most of the real lab-work was done elsewhere in the galaxy. We didn’t care what the non-Earth-Sol Hominoids did to themselves. We did mind that every few-hundred years, they’d deposit several-hundred million of their crappeople on Earth-Sol. Their war-bred-crap would demolish any improvements we were trying to make to the Earth-Sol population, such as eliminating their propensity for slavery, subjugation, racism, and war. Zeen are quite clever. The Hominoids would dump junk-genetics from all-over the Hominoid Empire onto Earth-Sol. That provided us with a relatively-enormous genetic-diversity... of junk. We’d cut-and-paste and sift-through genetic-junk, producing decent Hominids, who might-be-able to one-day realize that they shouldn’t behave like Mud-Apes with laser-pistols. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gom_jabbar) The regenerated Hominid ovum that we marketed made a bit of money. The genetics of “nice”, genetically-diverse Hominids, are quite valuable. The Earth-Sol project was a challenge: Scientifically, military-defence-wise, and politically.
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SCHOOL School was... well... school. I went to school, listened to lectures, played outdoorgames with the other kids, and did my computer-based schoolwork at home. I wasn’t inspired by school. I wasn’t very bright either, most-likely at the 20%-mark of intelligence. When I was learning algebra at age 13, the girls a few-years older than me were onto simplecalculus and space-geometry. Other subjects were taught, most of which I didn’t bother to remember. Nor did I remember much algebra. An hour every day was spent outside playing group-games, such as tag, fencing, or something-like football. We took a nature walk... once. That was the only time I took a walk into the Australian-like “bush” that surrounded my village.
HOME When school ended in the hot afternoon, I’d hide-out in air-conditioning at home. My homework didn’t take long to finish. Most of it was computer-work. Less of it was written. My old classmates, the girls, tell me that “less” was expected of “the males”. Their homework assignments were less-difficult, because of the Simpson-gene, which Mike mentioned in his “disclosure” document. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simpson_gene)
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November 12, 2011 I’d then squeeze in a chore for the day, which basically amounted to doing the laundry. My mother took the trash out.... back to the other planet. I think I tried dusting/sweeping off the corrugated-iron roof once, but I gave up on that.
My mother would arrive-home a few hours before dark. She would typically bring takeaway from the neighbouring planet. The planet was more-metropolitan than ours, with large towns of 20-40 thousand people. The towns consisted of two-to-three-story brick-buildings, with shops on the ground floor. Taller brick-buildings wouldn’t-have survived when the transportable planet was moved half-way across the galaxy. The planet was rented from the Rabbits. It even came with a few-hundred-thousand of them. They were temporarily-housed elsewhere while the planet was transported, though. My mother had an unimpressive office on the planet. After I left, she installed a 60foot video-screen in a spare storage-room. If the mega-video-screen had been there when I was around, I might have spent a day a week at her office, just like she wanted. As it was, I lost interest in her old office after pulling-out and pushing-in her filing-cabinet drawers a few times. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attention_deficit_disorder)
Back to dinner... The takeaway food was Rabbit-made... which meant it was very-sweet, and had toomany celery-like vegetables. It did come with meat though. The takeaway-shop staff always added extra meat for the carnivores. If my mother didn’t bring home takeaway, we’d have spam from the “take what you want” store. We cooked the spam in a small extradimensional-oven we had in our kitchenette. Rabbit-takeaway tasted better. 454 | P a g e
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My mother didn’t talk much when she first returned home. She was one of the people assigned to dealing with the Hominoids, and their slimy lawyers. She was almost-always too-furious to have a conversation. We’d eat in silence. Then she’d pull out her hookah and smoke some marijuana. Marijuana only has a calming-effect on us. It isn’t a narcotic to us. Lung-cancer doesn’t matter, since we just purchase some replacement lungs. After my mother calmed-herself down, she’d ask me about my homework to make sure I was studying. She would also talk about problems at her work. At some point, she’d try to drag me into a conversation. I was a typical teenager. “What did you do today?” earned a “Not much” one-word response. I hadn’t done anything other than schoolwork and browsing the internet. The concept of answering in a way that provoked more questions didn’t occur to me. I was more-interactive on weekends, when my mother and I had politicalconversations.
Once-in-awhile my mother would show-up exceptionally frustrated. The Hominoids had a habit of sneaking-around where they were told NOT to sneak around. The Azcruk-Hominids were hanging around Mars again. With a bit of a detour, she had blown them up on the way home. It was her turn, since everyone-else at the office was tired of blowing them up. The Hominids had a habit of smuggling weapons onto Earth-Sol in passenger transports... which earned them a “blowing-up”.
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November 12, 2011 Some Azcruk-Hominids even blew-up the Voyager once, so they were blown-up. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voyager_spacecraft) “It’s just a piece of junk,” the Hominids replied. “What would you think if an adult ripped-up your child’s prize piece of artwork?” she retorted. The Azcruk-Hominids wouldn’t care, would they. Fucking Hominids!
We earned a reputation for blowing-up Azcruk Hominids. Our internal-cameras were always shut-off when yelling at Azcruk-Hominids. They were more-frightened of a blank-screen than an “animal” person; they regularly enslaved “animal” people. When Hominid pilots asked what our racial-name was and where our authority came from, our joke name was “Ass shit”, which sounded like “Foong gueh”. The Hominids incorporated the name into “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” as “Ferengi”, a race that had only interacted with the Federation in a camerasoff mode prior to the beginning of the series. Sadly, the Star-Trek writers built the Ferengi out of a bit of Alotian business-drive, lots of sliminess, large ears, and that naked-women-culture bit. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Deep_Space_Nine, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferengi) Other races call us “Hoonda”, which is roughly-interpreted as “Shit person”. Smilodon-evolved people are also called “Hoonda”, but not to their face. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smilodon)
Returning home...
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November 12, 2011 As night set in, my mother and I would watch a few television-movies, typically two half-hour movies a night. One would be multicultural, usually Rabbit, the other would sometimes be Zeen. They were beamed-in from the other planet. Never-ever watch Saurian movies, by the way. After television, I’d go to bed, and wake up for school again.
On weekends, I’d either sit-around and browse the internet, or my mother and I would take a day-trip to the Rabbit planet. We’d shop for necessities, look-around town, and eat at a Wimpy’s clone, run by Alotians. The Alotians tailored their burgers to whatever race ordered them. We always got thinner buns and absolutely no onions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wimpy_(restaurant)) Our Wimpy’s burger-eating conversations were more focused. We talked about relatives, politics, school, more politics, future schooling, and more politics. Because disclosure was a Hominid-supported possibility for 2013, the same Alotian family hauled a small space-station to a solar-system near Earth-Sol, and built “Quark’s Bar” in it, based on the television-series, “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine”. Hominids destroyed the space-station a year-and-a-half ago. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Deep_Space_Nine)
Another party was constructing “Dex’s Diner” on a nearby site, from “Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones”. That didn’t survive Hominid-destruction either. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars_Episode_II:_Attack_of_the_Clones)
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THE PLAYGROUND One autumn-morning (there must have been a glitch in the planet’s orbit, because we shouldn’t have-had an autumn), I awoke, brushed my teeth, and walked the usual 100-meters to school. On-top of the rock-hard “grass” sports-field, was a playground. It consisted of several odd devices that I had never seen before. Not paying much attention, I walked past them into my classroom. At the beginning of class, we learned that some simulated Earth-Sol playground equipment had been given to us by the Greys. We were going to be versed in EarthSol culture.
This will sound quite weird to you...
I was born in 1953, I think. I don’t know if my birth-date was the day I was kicked out of my mother’s pouch, or the significant-date before that. The playground was installed when I was (approximately) 13 years old, in 1966. It couldn’t have been 1966 though, since Kennedy was assassinated in 1963, a year after the playground was installed... which meant I was 9 when I had my first merrygo-round ride. But I know I was older than 9... Oh well. You never know in space. Time progresses differently in different solar-systems, and on different planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_F._Kennedy_assassination)
Learning English from “Leave it to Beaver” is extremely-odd. Our teacher would play a few minutes of an episode on a 1960’s-looking digital-television. She’d then explain the story up to that point. With a very-strong accent, she would repeat a phrase that Wally spoke; Zeen mouths can’t reproduce English well. We’d repeat the phrase back, in even worse-sounding English. And then we’d watch the same segment over 458 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 again, followed by more of the show. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leave_It_To_Beaver) “Leave it to Beaver” was quite boring. Just like everyone-else, we all hated Beaver. He was stupid for loaning that bicycle to the criminal-kid. We were all traumatized for-life by Beaver’s decision. No-one ever stole anything in our village. The concept of theft didn’t exist in our minds. Theft was never-even shown in the multicultural Rabbit-movies I watched at home. “Leave it to Beaver” lowered our estimate of Homo-Sapiens intelligence, and may have reduced the probability of disclosure in the 1960’s and 1970’s by one-percent. Gilligan’s Island would have been more fun, but I didn’t see it until I was living in Tasmania as an Australian Kelpie. If we had seen Gilligan’s Island in 1963, you guys might be flying spaceplanes by now. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilligan%27s_Island, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_kelpie) I believe we also tried to learn English from Casa Blanca. A few years later we were taught a bit of Russian. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casa_Blanca)
We had American-food days. Pizza was flown in from a Rabbit-owned bakery. Bread is inedible. No meat was on the pizza. A meat-lover’s pizza without the crust might-have worked for us. We never tried hot-dogs. Omelette-day was good, especially the ham part. Waffles... no way. We did a hamburger-barbeque a few times. At first, we all tried picking-up the burger with our hands and biting into it, like we saw on television. Our mouths can open
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November 12, 2011 wide-enough to engulf a thick beef-patty with all of the toppings, including a very thick bun... but our hands couldn’t grasp the burger. ... so we used a fork and knife. Burgers don’t work-well with forks and knives, particularly since forks enable the elimination of the less-edible bits. Toss the bun. Toss the lettuce. The raw-onion goes out with the lettuce. Tomatoes are okay. Absolutely no pickles, EVER! Just isolate the beef patty. Cut it in half. Two chomps and the burger is down.
On that first day of the playground, we were led outside, and had the playground explained to us. The playground had a 1950’s vintage titanium (not iron) swing-set with rubber swingseats. One of the seats broke a few months later. Because we didn’t have goodhands for grasping, we couldn’t swing on the dangling seat Monkey-style. We hadn’t seen Tarzan. Someone must have attempted swinging after seeing a multicultural Simian-movie with swinging Simians. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tarzan_the_Ape_Man_(1932_film)) I liked the swings. The feeling of the tip of your tail brushing against the ground backand-forth is kind-of neat. The motion-sickness is not. I got around the motionsickness by closing my eyes, opening my mouth, and occasionally shaking my head.
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November 12, 2011 (I didn’t learn about this until just now, but all of the girls thought I was weird. Some thought I accidently caught a bee in my mouth. My mother was thinking about taking me to the doctor because of the odd behaviour.) We had a merry-go-round. I loved it! The other boy, named “Big one”, wouldn’t go on it. My name was “Little one”, by the way, pronounced “Ka ‘yll”, which translated exactly to “The + diminutive-suffix”. The girls and I would take turns pushing the merry-go-round. What was so fun about the merry-go-round (for me) was that I’d always fall off due to the centrifugal forces. We cannot possibly hold onto authentic 1950’s titanium merry-go-round handrails with our hands. They’re far too-slippery. I’d begin the spin standing-up near the centre of the merry-go-round. When centrifugal forces got too extreme, I’d sit down. Then I’d rapidly lie-down. And then centrifugal forces would FLING me off the merry-go-round at high speeds. I didn’t hit my head too-often. I think my record shot-put distance was about three meters from the merry-go-round. The girls also enjoyed the merry-go-round, but they didn’t willingly do the Kamikaze shot-put.
What I didn’t learn until just now, was... The girls wore blue elasti-fabric shorts. Tight shorts didn’t work for the boys. Elastifabric is WAY too revealing. We wore white pleated-kilts. Unbeknownst to me, while I was having fun with centrifugal forces... The girls were enjoying my kilt. The other boy, “Big one”, would never ride on the merry-go-round. The girls would have preferred to ogle him. He wouldn’t have minded the ogling, but he was clueless about the interaction between kilts and merry-go-rounds and girls. 461 | P a g e
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The slide was a vintage 1950’s titanium-framed slide with a stainless-steel slipperybit. It was always dusty. I tried sliding down it about-twice, and then got into trouble with my mother for dirtying my white kilt. After the second day, no-one tried sliding down it. I think someone nearly broke her tail. We did enjoy trying to climb up the slide from the bottom, though. Bare Zeen-feet on stainless-steel are very slippery. Our hands couldn’t grasp the slide-rails at all. Climbing up was quite a challenge. The girls always challenged me to climb-up the slide. Simply put, they challenged me because “Big One” wouldn’t climb-up the slide, because he didn’t know why they were challenging me.
One weekend morning, when no-one was awake-and-out, and when the stainlesssteel had not-yet been heated to burning-hot by the sun... I walked across the dirt track to the playground, dropped my kilt, and tried to slidedown properly. There is no safe way for a (male) Zeen to slide down a 1950’s slide, particularly when not wearing a kilt.
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THE FIRST MOON-LANDING (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo_11) I wasn’t around for the first moon-landing. I was off visiting relatives for the week. “Disclosure” was supposed to happen as soon as the astronauts returned to EarthSol. To ensure that disclosure happened, some friendly Alotians landed two (or three) of their 200-meter circular-spaceplanes around the landing site. We even cleared some rocks away from the planned Apollo landing-site so the lunar-module wouldn’t crash or tip. We even had evacuation plans for the astronauts if anything failed. At the last moment, the astronauts aborted landing at the site. They landed further along, instead. This prevented the Alotians from getting their spaceplanes on live Earth-Sol television. The United States Military (and NASA) were full of off-planet Hominids. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasa). Even-before the crew returned to Earth-Sol, we were informed by Hominids that disclosure wouldn’t happen. The Hominids in-charge weren’t local to the Orion Spur. They were either from elsewhere in The Milky-Way Galaxy, or from The Six Kingdoms, or Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orion_spur) Recall that the cold war was at its peak in the 1960’s. The Hominids ALWAYS threatened to start a nuclear-war if we ever “disclosed”, Russians versus Americans, or vice versa. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cold_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutually_assured_destruction) After the moon-landing, hope of disclosure sublimated. My mother was furious at the Hominids, which earned them a free “blowing-up”.
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MILITARY SCHOOLING At age 19, I was kicked-out of home, and sent to military-school in another galaxy. This was quite typical and expected. I believe Jimmy Carter was president at the time. Again, my years seem to be off, because if Jimmy Carter were president, I would be 22-years old then, not 19. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimmy_carter)
THE GREYS SAY “GOODBYE” TO GEORGE BUSH IN 1976 I don’t recall how/when I heard about the Greys pissing-off and leaving the United States. Others had left Soviet Russia years before. My mother must have told me. She didn’t hear precisely what transpired, only that the Greys had become furious with the United States’ military and politicians, and decided to not waste their time. My mother was happy to see the Greys leave. “They are stubborn, irascible, and persnickety.” She didn’t get along with them. I later learned that they gave George Bush, then director of the CIA, a long-term goodbye... which is a visually-rude gesture displayed by visually-rude Greys. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_H._W._Bush) As a counterweight to the Greys, we had hired the Nordics to act as monitors for Earth-Sol. They showed up for awhile. Then they flitted away, and we never saw them again. They still owe us a ten-thousand-page report about what was happening on Earth-Sol in the mid-20th century. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordic_aliens)
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November 12, 2011 What I am learning as I write is: The Nordics’ excuse is that, at the time, some Aussies were chasing the Nordics around the universe, trying to arrest/assassinate them.
From the Greys... Kennedy may have used his contacts with the American Mafia to initiate “disclosure”. The American Mafia was controlled by off-planet Hominids, linked to other Hominid nations in the Orion Spur. Kennedy was somehow informed by the offplanet Hominids associated with the American Mafia, that if we landed on the moon, then legally we’d have to be disclosed to. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_F._Kennedy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Mafia) In 1963, John F. Kennedy was assassinated, and his soul was ripped to shreds. Imagine an assassin with “time-bending” arm/leg-bands, bullets that travel extradimensionally for the first-few meters so they don’t break the glass, and a different window in the Texas School-Book Depository. (“Time bending” is the slowmotion time-effect shown in the movie, The Matrix, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Matrix. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_F._Kennedy_assassination) Sometime after Kennedy’s assassination, the American Mafia was decommissioned by anti-disclosure off-planet Hominids. The pro-disclosure off-planet Hominids were removed from the Earth-Sol. Everything “alien” went ultra-black. Johnson, Nixon and Ford didn’t know much of anything. Neither did Carter. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyndon_B_Johnson, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_nixon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerald_ford, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimmy_carter)
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November 12, 2011 George Bush didn’t learn what happened. He sided with the newly-arrived off-planet Hominids, who told him a lie, and promised “disclosure”, but on their own time, and using their own methods. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_H._W._Bush) The Zeen weren’t about to push disclosure after 1969, nor even before that. While Zeen have a short attention-span from hour-to-hour, they enjoy spending hundredsof-years on a project. If “disclosure” didn’t happen in 1969 or 1976, the Zeen would fuck with the Hominoids another way, another time, and over long periods of time.
SUIT TRAINING Before being taught to pilot a spaceplane, I first needed encounter-suit training, taught in another galaxy. For security reasons, suit-training was underground. We weren’t even told what planet we were on, just in-case any Hominoids read our minds. At the time, I was the only Zeen there. Everyone-else was Elk or Wallaby. There is a schism between herbivores and carnivores. No-one wanted to bunk with me, so I had a dorm-room to myself. My teacher was a Wallaby; they can be quite snippy. And Elk are often irate. What do you do when you’re underground, on an unknown planet, training to use encounter-suits, and there’s no-one around to socialize with? Because the data-signals could be traced and decoded by Hominoids, there was no internet. There were books... yeah right. (An irate-Elk just pointed-out that the books that I never tried to read were mostly Wallaby romance-novels.) There was a cantina that served mostly-vegetarian food... Never ask for elk-meat shiskabobs at that cantina. 466 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 There were VERY long hallways to walk.
I’m not allowed to say much about encounter-suit training. Training took place in an X-Men-like obstacle-course. We only trained for an hour a day. The rest of the time, I wandered around the tunnels, and everyone-else read Wallaby romance-novels. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Men)
CLARKE JUMPS IN While I (Mike) am writing this text for Ka ‘yll (the Zeen), Clarke (a Pink-Grey) is saying, “Wait! Wait! What about my part!” After the Grey-Greys said adieu with much fanfare, we (the Pink-Greys and one different-race Grey-Grey) showed up. We were warmly greeted at Edwards Air-Force Base. We enjoyed a lovely panel-van ride into New Mexico, where we were driven directly-into Dulce-base. We never saw the sun again, except for once, when one of us managed to escape. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwards_Air_Force_Base, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dulce_Base, http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Base+near+D ulce,+Deming,+NM,+United+States&aq=0&sll=37.0625,95.677068&sspn=33.572881,86.220703&ie=UTF8&hq=Base&hnear=Dulce,+Deming, +Luna,+New+Mexico+88030&ll=32.468061,107.888489&spn=1.058968,2.694397&t=h&z=9) The previous Grey-Greys received a warm-welcome when they worked with actual Americans. We only encountered off-planet Hominids “on” Earth-Sol. We were 467 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 technically “in” Earth-Sol, since we never got out of the underground Dulce-base. (“I did!” interrupts the different-race Grey-Grey, “But I got shot!”)
TRAINING After completing suit-training, I was flown to a different galaxy for spaceplanetraining. All of the trainees there were Zeen, training for an upcoming war... this one. Basic spaceplane-piloting is easier than driving a car. Spaceplane combat, however, requires enormous skill, much-more than flying EarthSol fighter-jets. (“Don’t forget that Rat-evolved people also have fighter-jets”, chimesin a Rat-evolved person.) I am not allowed to write any details about the training... Except that... well... I sucked. But even though I sucked, I still did better than most of the simulated Hominoidpilots. I couldn’t beat the simulated Zeen-pilots though. I lasted approximately 39.6 seconds against them, sometimes as long as 3 minutes.
At the same facility, I began intermediate suit-training. I was assigned to a learningteam headed by Uwya, one of the older girls from my village. She was a teacher’s assistant. Suit-combat is harrowing. I sucked at it, although less-badly than I sucked at spaceplane combat. 468 | P a g e
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THYLACINES The Thylacines that live(d) in Tasmania are quite small. They are rodent-hunters. Many planets have large, 150-kilogram Thylacine-animals. 150-kilogram female Thylacine-animals are lone hunters. 150-kilogram male Thylacine-animals hunt in packs. You know you’re in trouble when you hear “Hm hm hm hm hm” from them, as they start bouncing up-and-down on their forelegs. They do this when they are about to hunt (you) as a pack. Thylacines have an extremely-short and scattered attention-span, until they decide to hunt. They then leave no rock unturned... literally. Once they have seen and decided to go after prey, they are extremely persistent. Over millions of years of genocide, the males of race tend to be killed-off, to the point where some races have no males whatsoever. Male traits find their way into the female population. For example: Women-Elk sprout small antlers, even-though female animal-elk usually have no antlers. Women-Antelope have small horns, even though female animal-antelope typically have no horns. Women-Zeen often hunt in packs, and they are very-persistent hunters. Zeen have little sense-of -vengeance. Once they kill their prey, the hunt, as well as animosity towards their prey, is forgotten. Animosity is the wrong term; Zeen don’t particularly feel animosity. Zeen have two levels of “dislike”, which they retain until they decide to discard the assigned “dislike”. If more-interesting prey flushes-out during a hunt, Thylacines will chase after the new prey, without emotional-attachment to their previous prey or decisions. 469 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Hominids become emotionally-attached to their previous decisions, which is partially why Hominids cannot accept constructive-criticism. They also hunt in extremely-large packs that inefficiently swarm their target. Aussies hunt differently than Hominids, being small-group hunters. They hunt with emotional vendettas, almost an inverted-Zeen hunting-personality. (Some Catevolved-people chime-in and second the motion.) Hominoids can also “assassinate”, being subtle and/or sneaky about killing their prey. Zeens only “hunt”. Neither Aussies nor Hominids try to understand their prey. The concept of “thinking like their prey” is so foreign that they don’t even know the concept exists. More “primitive” Earth-Sol hunter-gatherers understand the concept, though they don’t execute-well on the intellectual-simulation of their prey.
400 galactic-years ago, many Zeen were commissioned to hunt individuals, including Hominoids. Hunted Hominoids and their families retained vengeance against the Zeen hunters. After the war (and peace treaties), Aussie assassins spent 400 years chasing the Zeens they hated, as well as their Zeen families. Hominids swarmed and/or obliterated the Zeens’ planets.
Zeens were assigned to Earth-Sol’s solar-system because:
Hominids were/are interested in Earth-Sol as a well-defended capital and/or fortress. Zeen dislike-#2 Hominids.
Some Aussies, who wouldn’t call themselves Aussies, want Earth-Sol to be reborn a goliath, and/or used as an anchor-point for their planet-hiding custom-spaces. Zeen dislike-#1 Aussies.
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November 12, 2011 Both Hominids and Aussies LOVE lawyers. Zeen dislike-#1 lawyers.
Hominids solve their problems with weapons, mostly guns, bombs, and hurled-planets. Zeen spacecraft can over-match Hominid (and Aussie) weaponry. Zeen manufacture (and/or are provided) fast spaceplanes, with very-good weaponry and defences. Why are Zeen allowed such weapons? Unlike Aussies, who hunt until the end-of-time, driven-by vengeance, Zeen hunt to achieve a contracted goal. Unlike Hominids, Zeen-goals are not race-greedy.
LIFE AT THE TRAINING BASE Unlike the underground suit-training facility, the Zeen training-facility had internet access, and it was mostly-outdoors. We all had our own dorm-rooms. Toilets and showers were communal though.
When I first arrived, I only-knew Uwya. She was five years older than me, but she recognized me from the merry-go-round. I wasn’t allowed to wear my countrybumpkin white-pleated-kilt at the base. We all wore gender-hiding baggy-trousers. Acting as leader, Uwya would wake us up in the morning, and lead us to class, as a group.
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November 12, 2011 After class, Uwya would lead us to the (non-vegetarian) cantina as a group, and we’d eat as a group. My favourite dish was an omelette with shredded elk-meat. And the beef curry wasn’t bad either. Nor were the buffalo pasties. After lunch, our main meal, Uwya would lead us to paperwork-classes as a group. Once classes were finished for the day, Uwya would return us to our dorm-rooms, where we’d have an hour to ourselves. In the evening, another member of our group (whose name is intentionally anonymous) would arrange group social-activities, such as movies, discussions, and board-games like chess. I was quite-proficient at chess, but not at movies and discussions. (Despite what Mike claims in his document, chess is usually played on an 8 x 8 board.) After socialization, we returned alone to our dorm-rooms.
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RAAKA Raaka is a “time planet” with a heart of molybdenum(?). She is over 12-billion years old. 25-million years ago, she was allied with Arthropods. Then she was allied with the eeoo. Then the Zeen, when we briefly attempted to take over the world 10million years ago. Raaka had extensive tunnels in her rock-skin before she aligned with the Zeen. We added even-more tunnels. After the Zeen decided not to take over the world, we encoded our entire history (and lots of knowledge) onto titanium(?) metal-pages that would last more than a hundred-million years. They were stored in tunnels and libraries throughout Raaka’s rock-skin. An underground library-of-technology, something like the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, was also constructed. It housed historical spaceplanes, including mechanically-disabled time-ships that the Zeen had designed and built. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smithsonian_Air_and_Space_Museum)
I’ll put in a plug for the Dune series here: Raaka is a sand-dune planet. My politicallyastute mother and other Zeen dealt with Hominoid lawyers and nobility all of the time. They helped write Dune. Regrettably, I never got my hands on the translated tomes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dune_(franchise))
I visited Raaka with my mother when I was a teenager. At the time, Raaka was just a planet to me. She was a boring sand-dune desert-planet with a single Al-Ari trainingbase and hospital dotting her surface.
Raaka is sacred to Zeen, like Uluru is sacred to the Australian Aborigines. We often make a pilgrimage to Raaka... more of a meditation-trip... at various-times in our 473 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 lives. (Another Zeen chimes in – “We would pilgrimage to her, you bastard, if we knew you hid her!”) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru) When the Zeen diaspora befell 400 years ago, the now-local-Zeen brought Raaka into The Milky Way. Raaka was orbited around a star, not far away from Earth-Sol. One of the planets orbiting the star has two continents. One continent incubated Zebraevolved people. The other incubated Numbat/Thylacine-evolved people.
Having a valid spaceplane driver’s license, a no-frills extradimensional-spaceplane, and a week off, I decide to wander around Raaka. When I visited Raaka, I didn’t bother looking at the libraries or museums. I wasn’t interested in seeing them. I don’t know if my pre-boredom with the museums was because my mother had previously taken me to them. Most-likely not. She preferred the expanse of the desert dunes. Instead of visiting Raaka’s surface and/or rock-skin tunnels, I flew my spaceplane into Raaka’s skin, and landed in a large cavern near her core. Old derelict-spaceplanes were left behind in the rock-hewn landing-gallery. I didn’t look through them. My spaceplane, being extradimensional, was only briefly-visible as a doorway. I stepped out, and the doorway disappeared. With glow-lights following and preceding me, I walked down a passage, down some stairs, and stood on the heart of Raaka. Raaka looks like a brushed stainless-steel sphere, several thousand kilometres in diameter. Standing in a winding natural-tunnel of ironstone, all I saw of Raaka was a brushed stainless-steel floor. The floor was extremely slippery, both because of my bare feet, and because of the low gravity. Tunnels wandered every-which-way, carved into the rock-skin that encased Raaka. I wandered only a short distance. It would be easy to get lost, and many did.
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November 12, 2011 In one chamber, I found dozens of Zeen skeletons stuck to the roof of the cavern. Their clothes had not-yet completely rotted away. Some mummified-flesh still hung to their bones. They had been killed 400 galactic-years ago, by the Hominoids and Alotians. Millions of Zeen died on the heart of Raaka in that battle. Their souls were absorbed by her. Raaka is a haunted planet. Custom dictates that Zeen sleep on Raaka, as she slowly spins within her rock skin. The floor shifts underneath, as you as sleep. I only stayed an hour.
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RAAKA EPILOGUE The Azcruk Hominids decided to take over Raaka soon-afterwards. They ignored the Al-Ari base on Raaka’s surface until two years ago. They hid their weapons inside Raaka’s rock-skin. They melted down the Zeen histories. The fuck-heads missed the spaceplane-and-technology museums. They nuked Raaka’s surface when non-Hominoid leaders were having a meeting on her. They ate all of the Zebra on the neighbouring planet. They genocided most of the Numbat/Thylacines on the continent opposite the Zebras. Hominid carcases now litter the neighbouring planet, but they continue to land. They even tried to hurl Raaka into another planet.
Raaka had herself moved, and has entered the war against the Hominids.
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IMPULSE DISCUSSING RAAKA After returning to camp from Raaka, I earned a silver-suit.
I didn’t discuss Raaka with anyone for awhile.
One “course” in the military-training I was taking, was to-learn how to out-will chemical agents, as well as to-train my body to withstand them. Uwya spent a full day with every person in the team, injecting “stims” into them so they could get a feel of the chemicals... before the pros in the camp REALLY abused us. The day that Uwya was going to drug me with battle-toxins, she was busy, so we began in the late afternoon. Uwya had me meet her in her room, so that later she could laughingly watch me stagger 100-meters back to my room, with a body full of stims. She first injected my arm with a numbing stim. Movement returned after about an hour. Another stim nearly put me to sleep. I had-to fight to stay awake. I would have fallen asleep standing-up. I only survived by pacing.
At the camp, we never had alone-time with other Zeen. This was the first time I was alone with Uwya. Since I knew Uwya, and felt comfortable with her, I brought up my visit to Raaka. 477 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She hadn’t yet visited Raaka, and thought it odd that I should do so. Visiting Raaka is often a sign of “religious fervour”, something she hadn’t expected of me. “Are you going that way [becoming a religious zealot]?” she asked. More-accurate descriptors than “religious zealot” are “stoic”, “deep”, “very-long-term view”, guided by the elder-elder races as-well-as very-large-rocks, and “Obi-Wan-Kenobi-style Jedi as played by Alec Guinness”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obi-Wan_Kenobi, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alec_Guinness) “No. It was an urge, something to do, and I was thinking about my mother.” Uwya, “What was it like?” “Raaka was quiet”. Pause. I didn’t know how to say the rest... “When you visit Raaka, you often don’t leave the same person,” I hesitantly-stated. I didn’t cue Uwya to take up the conversation. “I’m the same person.” “But...” “I know stuff... that sounds corny [and uneducated]... but I now know things that I didn’t know before.” Uwya looked at me, perhaps expecting me to speak a prophecy. I didn’t. “Are you certain [about the changes]?” asked Uwya. I didn’t answer.
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November 12, 2011 She resumed her role as leader, and eyed a stim. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Ready for your next stim?”
Uwya comments: “By the way, I had my eye on you then. Well, actually not, I had my eye on another male who was bigger, stronger, and more-intelligent... but this quote makes for a better story for you.”
VISIT HOME – 1989 Half-a-year after visiting Raaka, I was home on break, visiting my mother. As usual, she was seething about the Hominoids. They were making more-and-more incursions into Earth-Sol’s solar-system, with better spaceplanes. Some of their spaceplanes could reach our hidden planets. Greater-numbers of Hominids were landing on Earth-Sol. The Nor had left the area, leaving us feeling vulnerable. Hominids were also nosing around Raaka. My mother was worried they would get into the archives and loot them. Flying-planet Aussies were performing reconnaissance on Earth-Sol. The war continued approaching. Wars are like thunderstorms. You hope they never hit, because of all of the damage. But because the atmosphere becomes so hot and humid before the thunderstorm, you also hope they hit soon.
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November 12, 2011 George Bush had been elected president of the United States. The Soviet Union was gone. Global-thermonuclear war was unlikely. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tear_down_this_wall! ) Disclosure wasn’t going to happen though. The original disclosure-plan had been to use the Greys as a sole “alien” contact for 50-ish years while Earth-Sol society adapted, maybe introducing the Alotians lateron. The Greys were timid and unwilling to push disclosure. We didn’t know it at the time, but they had their reasons. We weren’t going to push disclosure either. For one, we didn’t care. For two, Zeens were not allowed to disclose to Earth-Sol Hominids because our existence would disprove fundamentalist-Christian views that the world was created in six days.
BREAK THE TIME-SHIP STALEMATE One way to stop a time-war stalemate is to do something completely unexpected. ... I knew this. I know I knew this. I didn’t know how I knew this. ... Raaka. I don’t remember what I did the day before my visit to Earth-Sol, but people who watched the video-archives say that I was practicing my English political-phrases, such as “I come in peace” and “How do you do mister president?” Video feeds show me stretching-on my silver-suit, and boarding my spaceplane.
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November 12, 2011 I targeted my extradimensional spaceplane for Edwards Air-Force Base. The craft was far-better than any that the Hominoids had. I landed (invisibly) at Edwards Air-Force Base, its extradimensionally-fogged buildings visible on my wall-display. My plan was to walk-out invisibly in my silver-suit, find an office that looked like it belonged to an unarmed general who wasn’t going to shoot me, and pop-out Cheshire-Cat-like. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheshire_Cat)
RED-HEADED BITCHES I died before I finished thinking-about leaving my spaceplane. I woke up briefly, looking up at a Red-headed Hominid-Bitch. They live above the Saurian taurosphere. I wasn’t looking through my own eyes. They were tearing-apart my soul, though I couldn’t feel the damage. Having your soul torn-apart is not painful. You merely forget... and you forget that you’ve forgotten.... and you forget that you used to think.
I blanked out.
The Red-headed Bitches are known for their assassinations and for flying small 4000kilometer planets as warships.
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November 12, 2011 None of us Zeen knew that the Red-headed Bitches were around. We now know that they think they own Earth-Sol. Many other Hominoid metaorganisms, whose goals often conflict with one-another, also think they own Earth-Sol and her populations. We didn’t know that the Hominids planned to use Earth-Sol for their future war. She was supposed to be legally neutral and non-existent.
Tasmanian Tiger (http://www.kidcyber.com.au/IMAGES/thylacine_captive.jpg)
Video of a 2009 Tasmanian-Tiger sighting: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqdFFkabyZk&feature=related)
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KING ISLAND (?), TASMANIA The whispers told me, “This is the best we can do for you.” “You broke a treaty-issue by trying to land on Earth-Sol and disclosing.” “This will keep your soul in-shape for a return to a Hoonda body.” (By that point, I had forgotten what “Hoonda” meant.)
TASMANIAN TIGER I woke up. Where was I? Who was I? That was a weird concept for me. What was?
It was evening. I had taken a nap during the day. Rain was approaching. It was cold.
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November 12, 2011 Where was I going to shelter?
I thought about sheltering in my hollow-log, nearby. Why would I want to go there? I always shelter there. That was dirty. A house would be much nicer.
House? I’m not going near a house. Those things are scary.
Where then?
I remembered a concrete culvert underneath a dirt road. How about there? Sounds good.
I galloped half-a-kilometre to the culvert. I lowered-down and crept inside to hide-out from the rain. The culvert-cave was a bit damp. There was plenty of room though. I was fox-sized.
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November 12, 2011 This may not be the best place to shelter, I thought to myself. Some predator might come from behind. Most-likely not. It didn’t smell-right either.
The culvert worked fairly well. Kind-of. As I would find-out later: Unlike rotting logs, the concrete culvert didn’t cover my scent. I couldn’t catch rats as easily. I don’t recall realizing that I couldn’t catch rats as easily. Fewer rats didn’t matter. I was now brave-enough to find dog-food!
Culverts had another disadvantage. They sometimes turned into rivers. I had to run out of a few, and into the cold pouring-rain.
A week after leaving my log, another Tasmanian-Tiger had claimed it. I couldn’t go back. I never ran-into other Tasmanian-Tigers sheltering in culverts. 485 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Culverts had another problem: They weren’t hidden by a forest. Fallen logs blended-in with the forest. I never found any Tasmanian-Tigers in small-sheds either. I wouldn’t even shelter in them; sheds were scary.
Several days after becoming a culvert Tasmanian-Tiger, I realized that only days before I had been piloting a spaceplane. I didn’t remember that I was going to land at Edwards Air-Force Base. I recalled my culvert-like house. I sometimes wondered if I had been knocked senseless during a suit-training exercise. It didn’t occur to me that someone might come and rescue me. It didn’t occur to me that someone might not rescue me because of treaties. I didn’t know that treaties existed. It didn’t occur to me to telepathically call-out.
It did occur to me to go near Hominid houses.
Pal dog-food tastes like crap. Especially when covered with ants. Dried dog-food, especially some of the dark brands, isn’t bad. 486 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The dogs that you’re stealing the food from don’t really mind. They’re usually asleep, or inside at night. So are their owners. Their owners think you’re a fox.
I don’t recall if I saw any foxes. I don’t recall seeing sheep. It was just grazing cattle. Maybe horses. Cow-shit tastes worse than broccoli.
Part of my roaming region was forested. I never went more than a couple of kilometres from my shelter.
Old discarded Pizza tastes like crap to Tasmanian-Tigers. The boxes are inedible. Large rats, Ratus Ratus, are quite tasty. Snakes bite, and they don’t taste good, and there are too-many bones.
Ground-birds aren’t bad, but they’re difficult to find on the ground. Rats are much easier to hunt, since they always live in the same areas (buildings), and always follow the same runs. 487 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
I don’t recall seeing any macropods. I may have eaten an echidna once, but there was no meat on it.
Tasmanian-Tigers don’t eat carrion unless they’re very-very hungry. The stomach-ache followed by several days of diarrhea ensures that they don’t eat carrion unless they’re very-very-very-very hungry.
I wouldn’t go near houses during the day. I was inherently afraid of them. I was inherently afraid of gunshots. My previous life-experience told me that guns lived in houses, sleeping next to Hominid males. If it weren’t for my previous life-experience, I would have never gone near a house. Or even a road with Hrududu. (“Hrududu” is the rabbit-name for “automobile” from the book, Watership Down.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watership_Down)
I only ever saw one sealed-road in my travelling-range. The sealed-road didn’t seem to exist at night, perhaps because the Hrududu lights were scary, and I never went near it at night. I only ever saw a few Hrududu on the road. In the late evening. 488 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Most Hrududu were parked in the farms.
Female Tasmanian-Tigers seek out males they like. None of them liked me. With all of the males being naked and exposed, and no merry-go-round, I had nothing special to offer. That didn’t really bother me. I didn’t even think about it.
MEANWHILE My mother was trying to find me. She was informed that I had been killed trying to land at Edwards Air-Force Base. “The stupid imbecile.” The Red-Headed Bitches held me prisoner for breaking a treaty. They were only legally-allowed to hold me prisoner for a few years. They were NOT legally-allowed to tear-apart my soul. They ignore the law when it doesn’t suit them. The main-reason for their fury was their vengeful-hatred of my mother and other local Zeen. My mother hoped I had been locked into a zoo-animal in the United Kingdom, and that someone secretly feeding me a Wimpy-burgertm would jog my memory. Sadly, I don’t think King Island(?) had a takeaway-burger place. I may once have-had fishand-chips there, as a Kelpie. 489 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HRUDUDU Life on King Island is quite dull... although I may well-have been on a different equally-dull Tasmanian island. Tasmanian-Tigers don’t read road-signs, so I wouldn’t know. I had long-forgotten that I had forgotten all of my English from “Leave It to Beaver”. I didn’t even know that I had memorized the English phrases, “I come in peace” and “How do you do mister president?” There aren’t any predators on King Island(?) except for drunk-Hominids shooting at “foxes” in the dark. One-percent chance of hitting. The population of Tasmanian-Tigers is limited by hollow-logs to hide out in. Treecaves work better than culverts because the rotting-log odour hides Thylacines’ natural scent. Numbers are also limited by food, chiefly large rats. To me, a “large rat” was any furry thing scurrying on the ground. I expect that dog-food would have been eaten by other Tasmanian-Tigers, but I never watched them to see what they did. I didn’t see many either.
I died about 17 years after beginning. I was hit by a Hrududu, I think. I might have been eating fresh road-kill.
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BLACK-AND-TAN AUSTRALIAN KELPIE “You’re dead.” “Your soul is healthier now, but it isn’t very large.” “We still can’t get you off the planet [for treaty reasons]. We’ll put you into an implant.”
I awoke as an Australian Kelpie. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_Kelpie) Except that I was in an implant. An invisible camera would follow the dog around, tracking his head and eye movements. I could see through the camera. When its battery ran low, or the camera was hacked-into and shut-off, my vision would go blank. I still knew what the dog was looking at. It was like closing my eyes, and remembering what I just saw. I could kind-of feel what the dog felt. I knew what the dog thought about. I could influence the dog’s actions.
He didn’t do much.
He ate dried dog food.
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November 12, 2011 He took rides in his owner’s cars, one a sedan, and the other an old-ute (pickup truck). A few times, he stayed at someone-else’s house. I recall a veterinary visit that wasn’t all-that terrifying. He watched television, kind-of. He listened to a-lot of John Laws on the radio. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Laws)
With other people’s telepathic help, I began remembering (or having memories implanted) of my past-life as a Zeen.
“Just wait and be patient,” whispered the telepathic voices.
STILL TRYING TO GET OFF? “Do you want to be a Hominid?” asked a fellow Zeen telepathically. “We may-have found a sucker in your country who you might be able to merge with.” Apparently, there was a treaty-agreement preventing me from leaving the country that I died in. My soul could only be moved to someone living in Australia. “Make sure to tell him that we don’t pick pansy flowers, or talk philosophy.”
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FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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PANTHERIZED by Mike Rozak Copyleft July 2011
THE DRAFT LETTER My mother and I lived in a long two-story, flat-roofed apartment-building. It was set back about thirty-meters from a major six-lane road, separated from the road by a sidewalk, mailbox-walls, and short scrubgrass. Trucks, large and small, for transport and mining, travelled up-anddown the road all day. The traffic died to a trickle at night, since just beyond our city was wilderness. Herds of nocturnal buffalos crossing nighttime roads don’t mix-well with large trucks. I had just returned-home from school. Since my mother wouldn’t be home for a few hours, it was my job to get the mail from the mailbox. I did so nearly everyday. Our mailbox contained two letters, which I pulled-out. As I walked with them into the shade of our apartment doorway, I checked-out the letters’ recipients, just in-case my aunt had sent me some money as a gift.
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November 12, 2011 I noticed that one letter was addressed to me. It wasn’t from my aunt though. I opened our apartment door, and rushed in… keeping both the burning sunlight and the heat outside. The apartment was small. It had an all-in-one kitchenette and living-room. We didn’t have a table. Behind the small kitchen was a bedroom that doubled as a bathroom, and included a small clothes-washer and dryer. Most people would call it a studio apartment. The living-room had a couch, an armchair, a coffee-table, and a Simian-made threepaneled television. The far end of the living-room was a wall of triple sliding-glass doors, leading to an alleyway that ran behind all of the apartments. We always kept the glass-doors covered by their venetian blinds – to keep-out the bright sunlight. We never opened the doors, because we never cared to use the back-patio. At night, I slept on the couch in the living-room. My mother slept in the bathroom/laundry, on a mattress. We didn’t spend much time at home. My mother spent her day working in her office, or out with her friends. Home was for sleeping, only. I spent only slightly-more time in our apartment. As soon as I arrived-home from school, I would typically change into shopping-mall clothes, pack-up my homework, and head to the shopping-mall. I would return home around dusk. My mother-and-I would eat a quick meal, NOT cooked at home. And then we’d both go to sleep. Having just walked through the front doors, it was now time to leave, and get a taxiride to the shopping-mall. So that my mother would see her letter, I set the letter addressed to “Resident” down on the kitchen-counter island.
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November 12, 2011 I opened the letter addressed to me. It looked like a semi-weekly stipend-check that I now received, because I had turned sixteen years-old. The money was a token amount, mostly intended as a practical education. I had to deposit the money into a bank account, budget from the account, and withdraw cash. I used my fingernail to open the envelope. The letter wasn’t a stipend. My jaw tensed. I hadn’t EVER wanted to receive the letter that I had just pulled-out of the envelope. Our military’s logo is a spread-wing eagle. Technically, it’s not an eagle, since its ancestors weren’t birds. They were pterodactyls. Bird-eagles and pterodactyl-eagles look similar at a distance, both being a feathered flying-predator shape. Bird-eagles are relatively “soft” and “curved” in appearance. Pterodactyl-eagles have verystraight and very-long wings, almost like bomber-aircraft. Pterodactyl-eagles have much-more streamlined-and-angled heads and beaks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pterosaur) I knew what the letter meant… most likely. The text beneath the letterhead was computer-printed in a nasty-looking font. I recognized my name, my identification-number, a few words that meant “draft”, and a date, which translated to:
“Report to your local draft-office branch within two weeks”
I re-read the letter, what little text there was in it. I had been drafted. 496 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What the fu__? Why had I been drafted? I hadn’t done anything illegal. I was doing well in school… And I still had two years left of high-school before I graduated. They weren’t supposed to draft me. I reread the spartan letter. The draft-notice certainly wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t intended for someone else, either. My full-name and identity-number were on the letter. Exasperated sigh. What should I do? What could I do? I would discuss the letter with my mother, later-on, when she returned-home from work. There was no point brooding on the letter, though. I might as well head-off to the shopping-mall, as usual, so I could work on my homework with my friends. But I had been drafted, and in two weeks, my grades wouldn’t matter, would they? “Fuck homework,” I thought angrily. My tail began twitching. I put the letter back in its envelope, and left it on the mini-kitchen-counter for my mother to see. I left my book-bag at home. I forgot to change out of my school uniform. I nearly forgot to lock the apartment door, as I left. 497 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
THE SHOPPING CENTRE In front my apartment-complex was a covered taxi-box, with a teal button, a built-in speaker, and a microphone. I pressed the button, and spoke, “The shopping centre”. I was allowed three free taxi-rides a day. Since one of my friends’ parents gave her and me a ride home from school, I still had three free rides for the day. It would only take one ride to get to the shopping mall, about seven-kilometers away, and another free-ride to return-home at sunset. Having spoken, “The shopping centre,” I de-pressed the button, and waited. I didn’t need to say anything else. “Ten minutes,” the operator responded. She knew exactly where I was, and what shopping-mall I always visited. I waited by the taxi-box, fuming about the draft-letter. Eventually, a dark-blue-purple taxi pulled-up in front of me. The taxi-cab already had a few “shopping-mall” teenagers heading-out. Nearly all teenagers got a ride to the mall after getting out-of school. Theoretically, I had to show my yellow-plastic taxi-ride ring to the driver. It was a two-centimeter diameter by one-centimeter-wide ring connected to my keychain. The plastic-ring had an RFID tag in it, letting the town’s computer keep track of where I went. On my eighteenth’s birthday, I would exchange the yellow ring for a non-restrictive purple-one. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radiofrequency_identification) 498 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Since I was only heading to the mall, the taxi-driver didn’t bother asking for my yellow-ring. I hopped into the front-seat of the taxi. The mall was ten minutes away. I didn’t talk to anyone in the taxi-van, since I didn’t know them. Instead, I stared-out the window… Along both sides of the six-lane road were apartment complexes, fast-food takeaways, and utility stores (grocery, hardware, metal shops, and industrial storefronts). Ten-minutes’ drive past the mall was “wild country”, where the scrub-buffalo (NOT bison) roamed. And then beyond that was a much-nicer suburb (technically a town) where one of my friends lived with her mother and sister. Her mother had droppedme off at home. Way-way past that, was a scenic canyon with green foliage, popular for holidays. I had never been there. Another eight hours drive, and the road entered Simian towns, then cities, and then the coast. I had never been their either. In the other direction was a large military-and-commercial airport. I had never been there. The side of the planet where I lived was permanently sunny, and had “good bedrock” for landing large cargo-ships. Imagine Nevada’s soil, vegetation, and heat, but flat. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nevada) As soon as we were dropped-off in front of the mall, I scattered from the group to find my friends. The other five split-off into two groups. We all had “beepers” attached to our key-chains. They were small white plastic-discs, one-and-a-half centimeters in diameter by one-centimeter. A small loop was attached to the disc’s circular edge, through-which ran the keychain.
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November 12, 2011 A button was inset into one of the beeper-disc’s sides. I pressed it. The beeper began to “ting”, once every few seconds. I could hold-up my beeper, and rotate-around to get a fix on my friends’ locations. The “tings” would get louder if I pointed my beeper in the right direction. My friends and I were on beeper number “118972”. The code-number we used was an in-joke: “8972” was the name of a “rock-band” we all collectively liked… as a group of Golden-Panther friends. You’d call it jazz with cowbell-percussion. “11” was our own unique version number, since lots of teenage-girls liked the band, “8972”. “72” looked like cat-whiskers under eyes, the “7” being a slim “X”, and the “2” looking like a backwards, mostly-closed “3”. “8” and “9” looked virtually the same as your numbers, except that the bottom of the “9” was very straight. “89” had sexual connotations, another attraction for teenage-girls. “Ting, ting, ting, ting,” could be heard from my beeper. It was kind-of-fun tracking-down my friends in the shopping-mall whenever I visited. A larger-mall would have proven more-challenging, and fun… The mall I frequented was only two-hundred stores, lining a few perpendicular corridors. There was a larger mall in the next town, fifteen-kilometers from my home. It was much-more of a maze, but it was too-far away, and cost me-and-my-friends money to get there. My beeper emitted a stronger “ting” as I turned right. I followed the ting. I knew where it led. The shopping-mall stores were ordered by genre. I first passed the shoe-stores, twenty of them, on both my left and right. I didn’t wear shoes. Only adults wore shoes, mostly high-heeled and purple. I did have some halfshoes, which we called “Foot-pads”. They were half-length, and slipped-over over my toes only. They had no heel-support. And they were plasti-rubber, the equivalent of thongs. All they did was keep my feet from getting wet if it rained. Unlike full shoes, they handily fit-inside my purse, so that I wouldn’t have to wear them all day. Past the shoe-stores were thirty clothing-stores, also on both sides. I browsed through them once-in-awhile, but I didn’t care much for fashion, either. Fashion was 500 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 an adult thing. My school-clothes, a white top and skirt, satisfied me. Janet, my friend who had dropped me off at my apartment, had an older-sister who just “turned fashionable”. After shoes and fashion-clothing came the gardening-tool stores. Don’t ask me why they were positioned near the clothing-stores. I have no clue. My beeper had quieted down, and turned itself off. I pressed my beeper-button again, to refresh the signal. Now closer to my friends, its “tings” were louder and sharper-sounding. By this time, I knew where my friends were. Beyond the gardening-and-hardware stores was a large food-court. Beyond that were electronics-stores, and then the mall’s parking-lot. My friends sat at one of the long white-plastic picnic-tables in the centre of the foodcourt. I saw them near the far end, to the right, next to the curly-fries fast-food counter. I waved at them as I approached. “Squeaker” waved-back at me. Everyone had their backpacks with them. Their books and notebooks were on the table in an after-school study-hall session. Several other friend-groups from highschool had claimed their own tables. Shit! I had forgotten my book-bag. I wouldn’t be able to do my homework. Should I get a ride back home to get my homework books? No. Wait… 501 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 On second thought, I hadn’t forgotten my books. I had decided to ditch homework today. I recalled the draft letter. Squeaker kept her attention-gaze on me. When I got within talking range, I casually nodded at Squeaker, and said, “Hello-all”. “Hi Wendy,” answered Squeaker. We called her that because she was the smallest of the group, and was the one-in-ten people that found it difficult to speak without squeaking. “No homework?” asked Sarah, as she saw me without a book-bag. I hadn’t bothered changing either, I recalled. I was still wearing my white school-skirt and top. I sat down. And intentionally looked pissed-off. I noticed Janet, and half-waved to her. When everyone was paying attention to me, I answered Sarah. “I just got drafted.” Shock on everyone’s face. A look of fear on some. “Fuck.” Everyone had heard about the draft on television. Some kids had already “gone missing”. “Does your mother know?” asked Sarah, with a concerned “O”-mouth.
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November 12, 2011 “She hasn’t come home from work yet. I left the letter out for her to see, and hightailed it over here.” “What are you going to do?” asked Squeaker. Someone-else interrupted, “When do you leave?” “I have two weeks to report to the draft office. I don’t know when I get shipped-out though.”
THAT EVENING Just after the mall closed at dusk, I got a tax-ride home. As usual for a closing-van, the taxicab was full. I sat near the window, Squeaker next to me. We were both tired and silent. As I watched the streetlamps glide past, I realized that I had forgotten all-about the draft while at the shopping-mall. Where was my book-bag? Shit! I had left… No, I hadn’t left my book-bag at the mall. It was still at home. We dropped two-people off at the truck repair-garage. That was the halfway point. What was my mother going to say about me being drafted? The van-door closed, and the van accelerated from a stop. What was the point of all that schoolwork, if it was-going to be wasted? 503 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I’d most-likely end-up in infantry, posted on some god-forsaken planet. The sun had set by the time the taxi-van stopped in front our apartment. I got out of the van. “Bye Squeaker.” “Bye”. The taxi-door closed, and the van drove-off. I walked past the mail-boxes, and into my apartment. My mother wasn’t pleased to see me. That statement was an understatement… That statement wasn’t quite correct. She was pissed-off. “How did you get yourself drafted?” she accused. “What?” I sneer-snarled. “I didn’t get myself drafted.” “Are your grades up?” “Yes. Of course. You’ve seen the report cards.” I hadn’t faked them. Plenty of other kids did. “Then why this… dishonor?” “I don’t know.” My mother collapsed onto the couch, her head down. Golden-Panthers cannot cry tears, but she was effectively crying. With her verbal-attack outburst finished, my mother calmed down. “Honestly, did you do anything?” 504 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “No, mother. Honestly.” I wasn’t lying. “Damn!” she said. “Is there any way you can get out of the draft? Did someone explain the process at school?” I rummaged through my memory for information about the draft. “No.” The draft had only been mentioned once at school, and only very lightly. We had heard more about it from television – mostly happy-propaganda newscasts. My mother frowned, exasperated. “What can we do?” “I don’t know,” I nodded. Then her eyes squinted in cleverness. “There might be a way out of the draft.” Pause. “Stop by the draft-office, and ask about that.” “Okay. I will.” I sat down beside my mother. She was still dressed in her nurse’s outfit. “Do you want some dinner?” she asked. I had already eaten at the mall, but I answered, “Sure.” “Come on.” My mother patted me on the leg. “Let’s cross the road.” At night, the road was relatively safe to cross, especially with both of us wearing white. We walked-ran across the six-lane road to the nearest fast-food restaurant. The restaurant’s look-and-feel was like a Jack-in-the-Box restaurant in the United States. The fast-food restaurant served either fish or buffalo, in wraps and burgers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_in_the_Box) 505 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We were the only customers in the fast-food restaurant. A lone teenage-boy worked behind the counter. My mother ordered a full meal. I got a small fruit-box, and deep-fried bready-bits. We sat down, and ate in the fluorescent unhappiness of a fast-food booth. “Did you go to the mall?” My mother tried to return to a non-draft conversation. “Yeah. We did homework… Well, I didn’t do any homework because I didn’t feel like it.” I momentarily worried that I had left my book-bag at the mall, but recalled that I had never taken it there. “And then we played some video-games, and wandered through the maze, and got a bit to eat.” “So you’re not hungry?” Head nod. “A little bit. I already had my meat for the day.” My mother tried to be helpful. “I wonder… If you head to the draft-office early, perhaps you’ll get a jump on the competition.” Pause. She continued, “Perhaps you’ll be able to get out of it easier. Or have more-time to apply for an exemption.” I didn’t want to think about the draft. The morose fast-food night-lighting discouraged thought. “Yeah, that might work,” I said glumly. All I could do was exhale loudly through my nostrils, a sign of being tired. The day had been a long and stressful one. I was tired. So was my mother. The only way that the emotional-stigma/burden of military-service would be made lighter, would be if some of my friends were also drafted… which I didn’t wish on them. I would know within a few days if any of them had received a draft letter. We
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November 12, 2011 could visit the military-offices together, if that happened. I would feel much-better not going alone. I finished my fruit, and only ate half of the bready-bits.
EARLY RISERS GET TH E BIRD Three days later, I arrived home after school, dropped-off by my friend and her mother. I didn’t even go inside. My mother wouldn’t be home yet. I didn’t even bother with the mail. I waited for my friend’s automobile to drive off, and then walked over to the taxi callbox. I pressed the teal taxi-call button. Instead of instantaneously speaking, “The shopping mall”, I paused. An irritated tinny-voice spoke, “Where do you want to go? [I haven’t got all day.]” “Er. Uh. The. Uh. Draft office.” “Oh,” replied the saddened-operator. She was not faking her sadness. “Which one? It’s on the letter.” “Let me see.” I fumbled the letter out of my schoolbag, and scanned through it. “Number 892”.
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November 12, 2011 “Your cab will be there in a moment… Good luck.” The woman hung-up without saying anything more. I had hoped that the taxi would take the usual fifteen-minutes to arrive. Five-minutes later, the taxi arrived. I now had ten fewer-minutes of freedom in my life. I was the only person on the ride, unfortunately. A full taxi-van would have furtherdelayed military service. My heart pounded as I entered the cab. I had never been to the draft office. To me, new places always had a “dangerous” feel, simply because they were new. The draft-office was definitely dangerous. I’d have to be on my toes, ready to mentally-spring into action. Cleverness might help me escape from military-service. The male taxi-driver asked, “Where to?” They NEVER asked, “Where to?” All of that information was on their taxi’s computerscreen. The cab-driver was making me verify my location. “The draft office.” As I sat-down into the front-seat, I pulled the letter out of my schoolbag, and showed it to him. It didn’t have an address, just a draft-office number. “Does your mother know?” “Yes, I’m going early to try and get an exemption.” “Good luck.”
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November 12, 2011 I wished my friends had been drafted so we could go together. None of them had. I even asked them if they had received letters. The draft-office was only five-minutes’ drive away by automobile, two blocks if I had know where to walk to. It wasn’t even an office. It was a large stiff-tent erected in front of a very-large military transport-ship. I had occasionally-seen the military transports land behind my apartment as I walked home from school. As far as I knew, they landed in the “industrial” section, waybehind the apartments. I had never walked back there. My walking-route was limited to school, a friend’s condo, and I once walked to the shopping-mall.
THE MIRRORED HALLWAY Teenage girls were lined-up outside the tent. I didn’t recognize any of them. None of them held book-bags. Some of them held a bag of soft-luggage, already packed with their belongings. It must have been their second time to the site. The queue moved quickly. I was soon inside, standing in front of a folding table. Behind it was a blue-dressed military-woman. She was the grumpy non-talkative type. Everyone in front of me had handed her their draft letter. She then pointed them left or right, without saying much. When I reached her, I handed the woman my letter. 509 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Left,” she said, and pointed to my left. “Um, is there anywhere that I can apply for an exemption?” The woman looked at me with a genuinely-sad look on her face. “No dearie. I’m afraid not.” And then she reiterated. “Just follow the tape-markings on the floor to your left. You’ll be alright.” Crap. My mother would be upset when I told her that I couldn’t get an exemption. “Are you sure?” An exasperated sigh. “Yes. Don’t worry. You’ll be well looked-after.” That last statement didn’t “click” until later. Oh well. “Thank you,” I answered quietly. I didn’t hold-up the line. I proceeded to my left. Within half an hour, I’d have a uniform and military ID. I would then have to get a tax-ride home. I wondered if they had a taxi-button already erected outside of the stiff-tent. The thought of walking-back didn’t occur to me. I followed the red-taped line left, and into a boarding-ramp hallway. The boardingramp led up-and-into the parked military-transport. One teenage girl was in front of me. A military-officer had stopped her at the bottom of the boarding-ramp. The teenage-girl waited. I waited behind her. 510 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A minute later, the military-woman motioned for her to walk-up. I walked forward, and was stopped by the woman. She watched the teenage-girl walk up the ramp. When the woman saw that the girl had gotten to the top of the enclosed ramp, I was motioned forward. “Thank you,” I said very quietly, as I walked-past the military-woman. I climbed-up the enclosed boarding ramp. When I reached the top, I saw the same teenage-girl standing in front of a doorway, stopped by another military officer. The officer’s beeper chimed. She momentarily looked at it, and pressed an “Acknowledged” button. The military-woman prompted the teenager to pass-through the ship’s grey-metal pressure-door. I was next. The woman looked at me, and took my letter. She verified it for authenticity. And then she ran a scanner over my body to verify my identity. We all had identity-chips implanted in us. The woman said nothing. She handed my letter back to me, and waited without looking at me. Two minutes later, her beeper-chime went off again, and I was silently ushered forward. I walked through the pressure-doorway, and into a very-narrow hallway, with foam “carpeting”. The hallway ended in another pressure-door, four-meters in front of me. Walking to the end of the hallway, I entered a four-by-four-meter metal-room. Another blue-clad officer halted me there. 511 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The other teenager had disappeared from view. Perhaps she had been redirected elsewhere. In front of me, at the opposite-end of the room, was a rectangular doorway that led to a narrow hallway. On the left wall of the waiting-room were two doorways, each leading to a hallway. The far left-doorway opened-into a hallway that made a ninetydegree-angle turn to the right. The nearer left-doorway opened-into a hallway with a ninety-degree-angle turn to the left. The narrow hallway, in front of me, was “mirrored” on the left and right, with diffuse mirrors, somewhat like shiny stainless-steel. I didn’t like this. I had recently seen a mirrored-hallway scene in a crime-show drama. I began to get very nervous. A green-dressed officer-woman walked-out of the far-left doorway, closest to the mirrored hallway. At her side was a leashed black-panther animal. I looked down. The cop-show had been on half a year ago, if that. We had all seen it. We had never been told how justice worked on our planet. Criminals that were repeat-offenders were turned into black-panther animals. They had their souls detached from their two-legged Golden-Panther bodies, and put into the bodies of four-legged black-panthers. The cop-show had gone-on to show how a police-officer could have her soul placed into the criminal’s vacant-body, where she could act as an undercover agent.
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I recalled the shaky-cam television-scene. A female drug-addict walked into the hallway. The camera was shaking nervously, and the underwear-clad woman’s rapidbreathing was audible. Half way down the hallway, the video inverted for half a second, white inverted to black. The shaky-camera then swung left-and-right in a woozy motion, and the woman’s body crumpled to the floor. Was that about to happen to me? I was very confused. I hadn’t committed any crimes. Were they sending criminals into the military with us? Or did the criminal black-panther merely act as a guard-dog? I stared at the black-panther animal, ignoring the woman leading it. The black-panther animal was collar-led out of the closer doorway, to my left. “I didn’t do anything,” I began to say. “We know that,” answered the officer-woman sympathetically. “This is part of your military duty.” I felt like I was about to break down. “Just walk through the hallway”, she said nicely. I followed her instructions. Before I entered the hallway, the woman said, “Just leave your book-bag here.” “Oh… Sure.” Was this really happening? 513 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I wouldn’t really be turned into a black-panther, would I? That was all made-up for television… I set my backpack down beside the doorway. I trembled as I stepped into the mirrored hallway. I could see my blurred reflection on both sides. This was going to hurt.
WALKED PAST MYSELF I awoke. I was lying on a large corduroy pet-cushion. It was in the corner of a grey-painted steel room. I didn’t remember who I was, where I was, what I had been doing before I went to sleep, or even that I had gone to sleep. Was I in the shopping mall? A Golden-Leopard woman knelt-down beside me. Was she my mother? In her hand was a curled-up red-leash, which she clipped onto a collar that was around my neck. 514 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “She’s awake,” the woman said. The woman didn’t look like my mother. Her voice didn’t match, either. Nor did it sound right… Her voice sounded muffled, and half-an-octave too-low. And what was I doing with a collar on? I didn’t even think to ask the woman why I was on a pet-bed. Where was I? If I had been shopping, I might now be in one of the shopping-mall back-rooms. What was I doing in a shopping-mall back-room? Maybe that’s what they did to teenagers who fell-asleep in the shopping-mall after closing hours. My collar tugged at my neck, as the woman pulled at the leash. Huh? I was still dazed. What had happened? It felt like I had been out drinking the night before, but without the hangover… and like I was still inebriated. Did I get drunk at the shopping-mall? Shit. That would get me into trouble. The collar tugged again. “Up,” the woman commanded, as if I were a pet. 515 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I tried to stand up. I didn’t think to think why I obeyed her command without questioning. Only later would I deduce that I had a “Friendly-pet™” implant installed that would, “Turn any pet friendly, guaranteed.” I had seen one on-sale for $299.00 at the mall, and jokingly threatened to use it on Squeaker. My feet gave-way as I tried to stand up. Why couldn’t I stand-up properly? Something was wrong. Why were my hands completely black? Had I spilled ink all-over them? Where could I have gotten black-ink from, at the shopping-mall? I tried to stand-up again, but my limbs weren’t working properly. My legs didn’t liftme properly. “Wait,” I muttered in a hoarse voice, while I tried to understand why I couldn’t standup. I had only gotten plastered a few times before. I had never gotten plastered this badly though. The mall-woman stepped-back for a moment, and watched-me struggle to get up. “Let’s help her up…” The woman looked towards the space between my legs. “I think she’s a her.” Was I naked also?!? A man approached from the side, and picked-me up by my stomach. I didn’t like the feel of his hands. With a bit of effort on his part, and some weird acrobatic-coordination on my part, I finally felt my feet put their weight on the ground. 516 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And my hands were on the ground, also. That was odd… The collar tugged again. What was a mall-woman – That’s what we called the mall “hall monitors”, who also undertook the role of weaponless security-guards… What was the mall-woman doing with a leash around my neck? A stern look would have been sufficient for me to obey her. The collar tugged. “Come on.” Now that I was on my hands and knees, I decided to act a bit-more dignified. I tried stand-up on my two legs. Someone’s hands put pressure on my back, to prevent me from standing-up. “Just walk on your hands and knees,” the hall-woman said impatiently. That was an odd comment. Walk on my hands-and-knees out-into a crowded mall? The collar tugged at me again. “I’ll follow,” I thought. I crawled on my hands and knees, led by the collar, and the woman. I was uncoordinated on my hands-and-knees. “Come on…” The woman paused while she looked-up my name on her clipboard. “… Wendy... This way. You’re holding up the group.” I didn’t want to hold up the group, so I made an extra effort to crawl out of the room. Did all of my friends get drunk also? I couldn’t imagine any of them joining in. I was led crawling, towards a doorway. What was odd, was that I was on all fours, but I wasn’t crawling on my hands and knees. 517 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My hangover-crawl reminded me of how I used to walk as a toddler. When my legs weren’t so long, I could walk on all fours. I used my hands as fore-feet, my butt propped-up high. The woman led me out of the room. My eyes were below her skirt height. Her yellow-gold tail, somewhat spotted, slung-out the back-side of her grey-blue skirt. I hadn’t noticed anyone’s tail for awhile. Doing-so was rude. Wait, I thought to myself. Where was I? I needed some answers. I needed to think. I sat down, stubbornly. That was an odd sensation, I thought, as my butt touched the ground. Was I not wearing any underwear? “Just a moment,” I tried to say. I couldn’t remember how to speak. Or, perhaps I couldn’t remember that I could speak. The woman looked-down at me, somewhat exasperated. From behind, the man rushed up. His hands reached underneath my stomach, and pulled-me up, onto all fours, again. The collar tugged at my neck again. The man pushed-on my butt. “This way,” commanded the woman in a business-like tone. “We’ll explain later.” I followed her command without complaint. While crawling behind the woman, I tried to puzzle-out what had happened… 518 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I had been to the mall… And I must have gotten drunk. Hadn’t I come to the same conclusion ten-minutes before? I think that I did. But I didn’t recall-clearly if I had concluded that. The woman led me down a white-lit corridor. My mother would be pissed-off at me. I had promised her never to get drunk again. The woman directed me down another hallway, which jogged left… or perhaps it was right. I was feeling dyslexic. I continued to follow. “Crawling” had gotten easier. The corridor ended in a wall, with a doorway on the left side. The white-coated woman led me out the doorway, and into a small room. In it stood a blue-clothed military-woman, and a teenage Golden-panther. They both looked down at me. This was embarrassing. Shit, my inebriation would be all-over school by the afternoon. Not-to mention everyone knowing that I had to crawl out of the shopping-mall on my hands and knees. I hoped I wasn’t actually naked. The girl looked nonchalantly at me. She hardly noticed me. I hoped that the girl-teenager wouldn’t recognize me. If I ignored her, and acted innocuously, she might not even notice me. While the military-officer and the teenager-girl looked down at me, I stood VERY quietly. 519 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Come,” pet-commanded the woman who led me. The woman led me to the right, out a second doorway. I felt my tail rudely flick-and-arc high as I crawled-out of the room. Shit! That was rude. … I HOPED I wasn’t naked when I did that! Did I have underwear on? I hoped I did. I certainly didn’t have my skirt on. All I needed were “cat-butt” stories of myself running-around school. The new corridor travelled a few meters, and then made a right-angle turn. My mind awoke further, stimulated by the “adrenaline” that surged through my body upon seeing the other teenager. I really should try and stand-up. My hangover-induced leglessness should be wearing off. “Wait,” I spoke, and then stopped. I had remembered how to speak. I tried to stand-up. It wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t get my balance. “I know,” I thought. “I’ll use the wall.” I faced the wall, and climbed up it. My BLACK-FURRED! arms pushing against the wall, helped me balance. I managed to stand all of the way up. My eyes were neck-level with the woman who led me. My legs didn’t work properly though. I could barely stand. I was also out of breath from the effort. 520 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Just a moment while I catch my breath.” My voice didn’t sound at-all right either. It was too-low and growling. I cleared my throat. The woman waited patiently. I took another moment to steady myself. I stared at my black-furred hands. Why were my fingers so short and stubby? “I think I can walk now,” I said. With that, I turned and… “No, wait!” exclaimed the woman. I turned towards the woman, and my rear legs gave out. My body collapsed to the ground. My arms weren’t fast-enough to catch me. My jaw hit the ground with a thump. “Too much to drink last night,” I mumbled. Crap, I was uncoordinated. I tried to get up again. “Just get-up on your hands and knees. You can crawl to your bed,” said the woman kindly. “It isn’t far.” I tasted some blood in my mouth, most-likely from a tooth-cut on my lip. “Okay,” I answered breathlessly, as I began crawling toddler-like again. I thought about the woman’s comment about my bed. 521 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That didn’t make any sense. “Did you call a taxi for me?” “No.” The woman paused. She hadn’t heard that one before, obviously. “No, we have a temporary room for you to rest in.” And then she added, “Don’t worry. You’re not in any trouble.” The woman led me down a few more corridors. I “crawled” behind her. She then led me through another metal pressure-door. What was I doing on a spaceship? The mall didn’t have a new virtual-reality room, did it? I was tugged-into the grey-painted spaceship-hallway. At the far-end were some steps leading-up to a second floor. The mall’s new virtual-reality room was awfully large. I was led to the first door on my left. Two bunks were in the room, both with cushions. One was lower and wider. What if someone came into the dressing room while I was asleep? Crawling on my hands and feet, my head was only as high as the lowest-bunk’s mattress – which was kind-of a pet-bed. “I’ll help you up.” The woman pointed-me to the lower-bed. Which was good, because the other-one was too-high for me to manage. I “crawled” up and onto the bed… barely. I climbed-propped my arms and chest onto the bed. 522 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I next got my upper-torso and stomach onto the bed. I once-again looked at my hands. My fur was still a thick-black, instead of being a thin golden-fur. Displacing the sheets, I scooted forward with my stumpy rear legs. I didn’t think to wonder why my legs were so short. I tried to lift my right rear-leg onto the bed. I couldn’t lift it high-enough. How about the other leg? I tried my left leg and foot. That didn’t work either. The woman grabbed my rear legs, and helped me crawl the rest of the way onto my bed. Once in bed, I turned my head towards the woman. “I have to get home so my mother doesn’t kill me,” I said. “Don’t worry. You have time to rest.” Without saying anything else, the woman walked-out the door. As she was closing the door, she said, “Press the red button to talk to someone, and be let out.” She pointed to a mushroom-shaped red push-button near the door. The door closed. I heard it lock. I thought that I was in a mall changing-room. I hoped no-one would accidently bargein, and see me sleeping naked. Maybe I should cover myself with the sheets I was lying on-top of? I don’t recall doing so. 523 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I fell asleep.
ROOMMATE I bolted-awake when the door opened. Where was I? In walked an adult Golden-panther, wearing fancy shopping-clothes. As adults, we wear different clothes when going shopping, than at school, or at work. Shopping is an event, even-though little is purchased. The woman deposited a duffel-bag on her sleeping-bench, opposite me. “Hello,” she said… nervously. She stooped-down to peer into my eyes, and to make sure I was alright. I was still groggy, and mentally-impacted from my hangover. … but I didn’t have a hangover. I knew that now. I had NOT been-out drinking at the mall last night. I HAD enlisted in the military! Shit. I sat up with the realization. And then instantly flopped back down! 524 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What the fuck? Why couldn’t I sit-up properly? A soft-spot in my bed must have given-way. I took a look at my bed, to see if I had put my hands into some extra-squishy part, perhaps a hole in the spring supports. The view from my eyes reminded me of a cartoon scene I had watched three months before, where a teenage Golden-Panther princess had woken-up as a Black-Leopard after being cursed. My arms were awfully short and stumpy. And they were black. So were my legs. And someone had removed all of my clothes. That hadn’t happened to the girl in the cartoon. She had kept her shirt and skirt. Why was I a Black-Leopard? I looked-up at the military-woman, who I was bunking with. “What happened?” I barely-managed to ask. My voice was throaty and difficult to understand. My eyes must-obviously have shown worry. My roommate’s eyes reciprocated concern. She didn’t know how to answer the question, which was obvious to me, given her minute-long pause. “Are you all-right?” she asked. Am I all-right? That was a direct-question. I should answer it. At the time, I didn’t think to think why I felt compelled to answer it though. 525 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I looked-myself over once again. I wasn’t sure if I should answer the question with, “I’m naked” or “I feel ill.” Thosetwo options came to mind. I paused at least fifteen seconds to make-sure I wanted to answer the question with one of those two options. I didn’t. I tried to ask an intelligent question instead. “Where’s my body?” Worry on my roommate’s face. “You were just transformed?” Was my roommate worried that she would be transformed also? “Yeah,” I replied… automatically. And then, an “And you?” slipped out of my mouth, unbidden. It was that damn Friendly-Pet™ implant, but I didn’t know it at the time. “No,” she nodded. “I’m still me.” What should I ask next? My mind was blank. My roommate solved the problem by avoiding the subject with politeness. “Do you want some food?” “Yes,” replied the Friendly-Pet™ implant using my mouth. As far as I was concerned, I had answered the question honestly and with forethought. I was hungry, after all. “Just let me unpack for a second.” The woman began pulling clothing out of her bag, and stowed the clothing on some open shelving. 526 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What had happened to my clothes? I peered over the side of my bed, looking for my duffel-bag. I didn’t own a duffel-bag! What was I thinking? My school backpack wasn’t here either. Not that the books were going to clothe me. After my roommate had unpacked her clothing, she turned around, and introduced herself, “My name is Sally, by the way.” “I’m Wendy.” “Let’s go get some food.” Sally was already at the door. Hanging on the red mushroom-button was a curled-up red leash. She grabbed it, and clipped it on my collar. “Why did you do that?” I asked incredulously. Sally looked surprised at my surprise, or perhaps she was surprised at her behavior. “I… That was rude… I… I have to have a leash on you for now, to make sure you don’t run away.” I nearly snarled. This was going to be weird. It didn’t occur to me to ask Sally why someone had turned my body from that of a Golden-Panther to an animal Black-Leopard Black-Panther. In the television-cartoon, the Golden-Panther woman had all her bones fluidly morph, and black fur-hairs sprout-out between her old golden fur-hairs. Is that what happened to me? I must have been unconscious when that happened. 527 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The leash-insult fell-away from my mind. Sally began tugging at the leash… … rejuvenating the “leash-insult”. My intuition told me that I should follow the leash’s tug, and hop-down from the bed. No way! I was-not going to hop-down from my bed, no-matter what my intuition told me I should do. Instead, I rolled onto my stomach, and slid my rear-legs onto the ground. Once my weight was supported by them, I backed-up, and eventually slid my forelegs onto the ground. For half a minute before I got both my forelegs down, I held-up my weight with my jaw and thick neck. Once on the ground, I twirled-around towards Sally. I did-NOT think to ask why I had been turned into a Black-Panther. I momentarily completely-forgot about food. My missing duffel-bag suddenly became a priority. I glanced-about the ground underneath my bed to see if my clothes-bag was around. I needed to put some clothes on. It wasn’t there. I caught myself turning my head to look underneath Sally’s bed. Wait! I was being mindless. I didn’t bring a clothes-bag, did I. And I left my schoolbag behind, before I was transformed. I’d have to pay for those books. “What are you looking for?” 528 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Some clothes,” I answered, as I looked-up at Sally. Sally glanced at her stack of clothes, thinking about loaning me something. After a few-seconds of thought, she looked at me, and head-tilted in the negative, “I don’t have anything that will fit you.” How would I get to the food-room if I were naked? “Don’t worry. No-one will notice,” Sally answered. “We’re the only ones here at the moment.” Had Sally read my mind? My school-principle seemed to be able to read minds. Reluctantly, I answered, “Okay. Let’s go.” Sally led me through the door, into the hallway. I slunk-out cautiously, afraid that someone might be waiting outside with a camera, ready to photograph me naked. Yeah, but I was a cat. And this wasn’t my body. Sally tugged at my leash as she walked towards a staircase to the left. Our room was one of ten, on the lower-level of a staircase-cascade.
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Sally closed the door behind us, and led me up some steep steps onto a mezzanine. For some odd reason, perhaps because I was lower to the ground, I noticed that the stair-steps and floor were a crisscrossed low-skid metal-surface. The lower dorm-room hallway was about three meters wide. The mezzanine hallway widened to five meters. The mezzanine walls angled-out, with ramps leading-up to arched-openings near the ceiling. Sally didn’t let me stop to look-around, like I wanted to… I think that I wanted to look-around… She led me through the twenty-meter mezzanine, and up another steep staircase. Immediately to our left, was a plastic door with a lever door-handle. Sally opened-the door and ushered me into a small cafeteria. When I ventured toofar in-front of Sally, my head was pulled-back by the leash that Sally held. 530 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The cafeteria had four small fast-food picnic-tables. Each picnic-table had two arced benches, fixed to the ground. No-one was in the room, but us. Sally closed the door, and led me to a table. “Get up,” she commanded. I obeyed without thinking… or at least I tried to obey. I found it difficult to scrambleup onto the bench. I could get my forefeet on the bench-seat, but I couldn’t easily lift my rear legs-and-feet onto the seat. I nearly managed once, but my rear foot slipped-off. In the end, I walked-onto the bench perpendicularly. I straddled the bench with both my left-and-right fore-legs, and my left-and-right rear-legs. With a bit of elbow-andknee work, I managed to stand on the bench. Sally watched nervously as I struggled to do even a simple maneuver. Once I had seated myself, Sally awkwardly tried to find someplace to tie my leash to. Why? Why did she try to tie me up? Sally found no-place to tie my leash to. She eventually gave-up, and dropped the end of my leash onto the table-top. “I’ll get you some food,” spoke Sally. She walked to the end of the room, where there was a countertop, and a few buttons on the wall. The Friendly-Pet™ implant encouraged me to paw the leash-end as if it were a stunned mouse. My fore-paws didn’t work as well as hands, but I could almost pickup the leash using my claw-tips. “Do you want chicken or cattle?” asked Sally. “Red meat today,” I answered.
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November 12, 2011 I remembered a “Thank you” about a minute later. Something beeped. Sally turned-away from the countertop, carrying two hot microwave-dinners. She placed mine in front of me first, and then set hers down. Sally sat-down beside me. “Fuck…” said Sally. And then she whispered to herself, “I’m nervous.” And she then spoke, “I forgot the forks. I’ll get them.” A minute later, Sally returned with the forks. She was about to hand me mine, when she realized that I couldn’t hold it. “I’ll have to feed you.” Dismay broadcast on Sally’s face. Sally positioned the rectangular microwave-dinner in front of me. Sally used the fork to pick-up some meat, and held it in front of my mouth. I leaned my head forwards and bit, nearly pulling the plastic-steel fork out of Sally’s hand. The meat tasted like beef-burgundy. “Thank you,” I said. Next came a fork-full of risotto, also included in the microwave-meal. Sally alternated meat and risotto. She miscalculated food-balance, and had to feed me four forks of risotto at the end, without any meat in-between. Once I had eaten, Sally put down my fork, and began eating her own meal. She ate in silence. 532 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I stared at the far countertop, mind-numb. The ship hummed.
MORNING A chime went-off in our room, and then a video of a chirpy Golden-Panther told us that it was sunrise, and time to wake-up. My eyes opened half-way through the video. I caught the second-half, as it played on the flat-panel display attached to the door-wall. Sally was still sleeping in her bunk, opposite. She was mostly undressed. I must have fallen-asleep before she took off-her clothes. I only recalled walking-backwards down the steep steps after dinner, and then climbing into my bunk, exhausted. What were my duties for the day? The thought of calling my mother-up didn’t occur to me. It should have. I wondered if anyone-else had arrived in the battleship. Just then, someone knocked on our door. It opened, and a woman’s face peeked in. “Hello, Sally, I’m Karen.” The woman ignored me. Sally must have been my superior officer. How did I know that Sally was my superior officer? Sally sat up, alert. Being undressed was especially-embarrassing for her. 533 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Since you’re the first person here, I’ll show-you around the ship myself. Tomorrow, you can help show the other newcomers around.” Sally looked-around for her top. Karen saw this, and replied embarrassed, “I’ll close the door for a minute.” She stepped back, and closed the door. We were left-alone in the room. Fumbling for her clothes, Sally hurriedly dressed-herself in her military uniform. I noticed the absence of my military uniform. I stood up on my bunk, and turned around to face the door though. I lay-down on my stomach as Sally opened the door herself, and let Karen in. “Sorry about that,” spoke an embarrassed Karen. “I didn’t want to leave you sittingaround with nothing to do.” “That’s okay. The alarm just went off. I hadn’t woken-up yet.” “Before you begin your duties, we need to get your friend situated.” The woman looked at me. Sally noticed. “Karen, this is Wendy.” “Hello Wendy.” “Hello Karen,” I answered back. “Please follow me,” said Karen, as she walked into the hallway. I jumped-down from the bed this morning. My stumble wasn’t that bad. Sally waited for me to walk-out first. She closed the door behind me. “Karen,” asked Sally, “Do you have any clothes for Wendy?”
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November 12, 2011 “Shit, I forgot to mention that. We have some cat-clothes on order. They should be here tonight.” “Thank you,” I answered. Karen nodded to me. “Follow me.” Sally and I followed Karen up the stairs to the mezzanine. Karen bent-down to my level, and looked into my eyes. “Wendy, all you have to do is climb-up ramp number-two… That one… and enter the small doorway up-top.” I sat, waiting for further information. Karen looked at me as if I was a bit dumb. “Go. Go-on up,” urged Karen. “We’ll pull you out at mealtime.” That was it? My first day of military-duty was to climb-up a ramp? I expected calisthenics, running, weapons training, or something else. Oh well, everyone knew that our military wasn’t exactly top-of-the-line, and all-stringent-like. I crept up a switch-back ramp to get to mid-level. And then onto ramp number-two. The arched doorway was just tall-enough for me to climb-through, being four-legged. Inside was a motorcycle body, without the wheels. A holographic display covered all of the walls, which were curved into an ellipsoid. The room looked like a high-quality version of the only-functioning arcade-game at the shopping-mall.
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VIDEO-GAME All of the lights were off in the pod. Upon entering, the “wallpaper” holographic displays gradually illuminated, brightening to a grey. Having played video-games before, it was obvious to me that I should climb-onto the motorcycle seat. Oddly, no-one had yet told me what my military-role was. Perhaps they forgot? I was the first person on-board, and things seemed a bit confused. Maybe I’d learn-about what I was going to do when everyone-else arrived. Or perhaps I was being trained to be a fighter-pilot. That would be cool! Certainly better than being infantry. Better than being a medic, or whatever job I would likely earn in town. Still, it would have been nice if someone had told me what I would do for the next half-year to a year… And why they put me in a four-legged body. I didn’t dwell on my future job, though. I climbed all-of-the-way into the simulator room, and rested my chest and stomach on the motorcycle seat. My forelegs fit into gold-coated hand-holsters up-front. I found it trickier to slide my hind-legs into their rear holsters.
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November 12, 2011 As soon as all my limbs were in-place, a video-game sign appeared on the screen in front of me:
Insert one quarter
to play
The sign didn’t stay-up for long. It faded-away to a video of Golden-Cat woman who introduced me to the system. Only her head and upper-torso were visible. “Welcome to the Devastation-9000, one of the premier battleships in our fleet.” “Before you begin, ensure that you are seated properly on the motorcycle-seat, and that your arms and feet are inserted into their haptic-pneumatic holsters”. The video instantly-flicked to a new segment. “I see that you have already gotten-situated properly.” “You are a new user. I will call you [video interrupt] Chrome.”
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November 12, 2011 With that, a sign with the words, “You are Chrome” zoomed-in.
You are
*** CHROME ***
“Your first task is to make sure that the pneumatic systems are working. Bear in mind, this will feel a bit weird.” “Move your right foreleg to the right.” I did so. The motion was fluid and frictionless. (The combat-systems designer’s words. They’re forcing me to say this. – Mike) After pushing my right foreleg out a few centimeters, the limb-grip took control, and forcefully returned my foreleg to its original location. I heard the door close behind me.
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“Now, kick your right rear-leg out.” I did so. And to my surprise, my left-leg was nearly-simultaneously forced out-and-wide by its pneumatic holster, following the exact-same motion. “Got you. ” Both of my rear legs were forcefully returned to their previous positions. “And now for our first simulated flight.” “What you are feeling now is the pod decompressing, like you would feel if you were to actually launch into space.” “This feeling can be simulated. Or, you might actually be launching into space on your very-first test-run.” 539 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The grey surround-video faded into an image of a rectangular docking-bay. The wall in front of me was open to the stars, the arc of a nearby planet to my lower-left. Cool! I could see that the pod was resting on a dais landing-pad, and that it was gradually taking-off. I actually felt the motion. This was MUCH better than the arcade. The woman’s image had disappeared, but her voice continued. It was echoed by a telepathic message, with the exact-same words. “Your pod is now hovering free of its catch. To launch your pod, tense all four of your legs.” I tensed all of my legs as instructed. In future training sessions, I would be berated for acting without thinking, when I did this. I would be told that I first needed to check my pod’s systems for damage, as well as to spend time pre-investigating the combat status. Seconds after my legs tensed, the pod automatically whizzed-up from its parkingdais, and out of the centre of the docking-bay. I felt a field-transition as my pod passed through the spacecraft’s force-shield. I flew-out into the stars! DEFINITELY better than infantry. What did the spaceship that I launched-from look like? How big was it? I decided to look-behind me (another telepathically-induced thought) to see what kind of ship I had left. Oooh. The docking-bay that I had left was perhaps twenty-meters wide, by ten-meters high. It was tiny compared to the spherical-exterior of the spacecraft. 540 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And then I wondered what the planet looked like. Below me was a blue-water planet, with green continents, and a hazy atmosphere. I could almost feel the planet’s gravity. I heard a “tink” sound just-off to my right. A red “target-box” appeared where the sound came from. The target-box highlighted a space-station a thousand-kilometers above the planet. I didn’t know how I knew that there was a space-station there. I just knew. “Your job is to fly to the space station. You are carrying a payload of toilet paper. Look behind you.” (Cat-humor is very weird.) I craned my neck-around, and saw a large metallic-box floating immediately behind my pod. It even had dents on it. “To begin flying in the direction of the space-station, look at it, concentrate on it, and lick your lips.” I had no-idea why licking my lips was selected as the “get moving” trigger, but I complied. My space-pod began accelerating towards the space-station. I could perceive the launch-spacecraft receding into the distance. “Don’t go too-quickly or you will lose your load.” “To slow down, release your concentration, and un-tense your body.” I did so. I hadn’t realized that my body had tensed-up. “Enjoy the flight.” I flew towards the space-station for about ten minutes. On a whim, I began experimenting with maneuvering. Sliding my body left and right caused my pod to veer in the same direction. 541 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Unexpectedly, an alarm went-off! Before the woman even spoke, I knew that a “zoomer” was spotted on approach, behind my right shoulder. “A zoomer is approaching. They are high-atmosphere animals that will curiously investigate your spacecraft. They are harmless until you crash into them.” An image of a bat-winged green-thing with a sucker-mouth appeared in my mind. “The zoomer will catch-up to you soon. You cannot outrun it while you are towing your current payload.” I tried to outrun the zoomer anyway, accelerating as quickly as I could. I knew that the zoomer was catching up. “Sorry, but you must release your container of toilet-paper, or the zoomer will catch up.” “To release your cargo, pull your rear legs in towards the motorcycle-seat.” I began to pull my rear legs in, but the woman’s voice (and the pneumatics) interrupted me. “Not yet! You must first make a mental note of the location of your transitcontainer.” (Again, weird cat-humor.) I thought about making a mental note. “Bing.” A small text-sign appeared off to my right, with the words, “Transit container” on it. The sign slowly faded into the background. I felt the container of toilet-paper float away. I then more-strongly perceived the zoomer speeding-up on me. “You must take evasive maneuvers. Lean to your right to rotate and dive.” 542 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I did so. Cool! The planet swung underneath me as my pod rotated about its Z-axis. I even felt the momentum-motion of my pod, though when I eventually spun-around upside-down, I still felt like I was flying right-side up. I perceived the transit-container quickly-receding into the distance, and the surprised zoomer hurrying to approach me. All of the sudden, all of the lights turned on. The cushion of my motorcycle seat deflated. The gold grips that had tightly locked around my arms and legs relaxed. I hadn’t even noticed them doing this. The rear-door opened, and I felt the fresh air. The pod telepathed to me, “You are requested on deck.” It didn’t speak this time. Groggy, I stumbled-off the motorcycle-seat, backwards . I thought about turning-around inside the pod, but decided it was too small. Instead, I backed-up, tail-first. I felt my rear right-leg touch air… And then I turned myself so I was walking-back parallel with the wall. Though I nearly fell-off twice, I managed to back-myself down the ramp.
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DINNER Apparently, six hours had passed. It felt like only two hours. Sally and two officers were waiting “on the ground”. One of the officers proudly held-out a bright-red plastic elastic-diaper. “Here’s your stop-sign. You can put it on in the card room. ” I didn’t understand the “stop-sign” reference at first… not for a few days actually. Some planets have stop-signs with the same shape and color as our plastic diapers. The three officers walked-up the stairs first, and I followed. One officer opened the door opposite the cafeteria-door. She set the red piece of plastic down, inside the room, and motioned me in. “Just knock when you want to get out.” I entered a room that was nearly same-size as the cafeteria, but with wooden tables and chairs. A sofa was on the far wall. The room also had a door for a toilet. When the door closed, I investigated the piece of plastic… called a “stop sign”. I suspected that the officer had handed-me my clothes. The “underwear” or “diaper” or “stop-sign” was quite practical. It had an elastic sphincter-hole for my tail, and enough material to cover-up my privates. Two Velcro straps tied the diaper to my upper-legs. Certainly not fashionable, but it was better than nothing. Determined to be independent, I didn’t knock on the door to be let out. I walked-up the wall next to the door using my forelegs. Leaning against the wall, I managed to stand-up on my hind-legs, and pull the door’s level-handle down. The door clicked open, and eventually swung wide-enough that I could squeeze through. An officer was waiting outside for me. She didn’t comment on my bright-red underwear. 544 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I landed-myself back onto four legs, more gracefully than the last-time I had tried this trick. The officer led me into the cafeteria, where a plate of food was already waiting on the table. One of the officers proudly handed me a “Tiger-claw” fork so that I could pick-up my own food. It was a black palm-shaped disc, with a small metal grabbing-talon. The fork strapped onto my hand. When I squeezed buttons on the sides of the palmshaped disc, the small talon would close around a small piece of meat, or a few grains of risotto. I could pick-up the food, and drop it onto my tongue, or into my upturned mouth if I was particularly dexterous. Sally no-longer had to feed me, as if I were a child. I appreciated the officers’ friendliness. Sally and the two officers discussed procedures, as well as how to fill-out different types of paperwork. I didn’t talk at all that night. At first, all my concentration went into learning how to maneuver food into my mouth. And then I was simply tired, and decided to listen. And then dinner was over. Someone took-away my rectangular plate, and I was led to my room. Somehow, someone managed to clip the leash on me again. I was so tired, I wasn’t particularly bothered about the leash. The Friendly-Pet™ implant might have had something to do with it, also.
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MORE TRAINING After we awoke the next morning, Sally directed me to pod number-four. I hadn’t heard anyone radio Sally about my duties that morning. She must have gotten her instructions the night before. Since no-one was around, all I had to do was climb-up, and play video-games all-day. Military service wasn’t sounding all-that bad. Before I enlisted, I was afraid of being drafted into infantry. Here I was, playing video-games all day. I expected my experience to be oppressive. I had never cared for video-games before. They were an occasional entertainment at the shopping-mall… about ten-minutes worth of “fun”. Yesterday’s full day of gameplay was actually engrossing. I found that I enjoyed playing mock-battle video-games, rather than running-around the bush on eight-kilometer jogs, followed by “buffalostalking”… When you are on the desert side of a planet, how ELSE do you train? We only used paintballs, and we weren’t allowed to shoot any Technicolor buffalos. Being four-legged didn’t bother me, especially since it saved me from eight-kilometer jogs. The Friendly-Pet™ installed in me may also have made a difference.
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November 12, 2011 I hopped onto my motorcycle seat. I had no-problem getting my limbs into the holsters. The game knew who I was, and zoomed-in a sign saying:
Welcome back,
*** CHROME ***
Almost all of the day’s communications were telepathic-words, telepathic-sentences, and telepathic thumps. Audible speech was much-less common. After I learned the pod-controls, over the next few days, and after the computer’s artificial-intelligence learned my habits, audible-speech was almost-always omitted. The first mission of the day was to redo the toilet-paper mission that I had-not finished the day before… or at least that’s what I was told. My pod once-again launched from a rectangular hanger. The hangar was subtly different from the previous day’s hanger, but I didn’t pay any attention. I squeezed my legs together to “kick off” my pod from its docking station. A low-beeping alarm went-off immediately, followed by an announcer voice, “System failure. You must first check the flight status of your pod. To listen to a tutorial, twitch your fore-feet.”
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November 12, 2011 Two minutes into the game, I was already engrossed … another Friendly-Pet™ feature. I twitched my hands, and got the tutorial. Before taking-off, I had to look all-around me, to make sure all of my video-displays worked. I did so. “You are now cleared for take-off.” My pod took-off immediately, and “escorted itself” out of the docking bay. Like the toilet-paper simulation from the previous day, this simulation included a planet and a destination. Unlike the previous day’s simulation, space wasn’t empty. It was crowded. Other pods and friendly spacecraft zipped around. I could only see them as small white-dots (most-likely ultraviolet in real-life) flying in the distance. I had a telepathic link to the planet’s “radar”-system. I knew that other spaceplanes were flying-around, approximately how large each one was, and what each one was doing. To know where the spaceplanes were, I didn’t have to see any spaceplane images, nor did I have to read any text on the screen. (Search http://www.youtube.com/ for “space-shuttle UFO” to see what the “small whitedots” look like.) And, by the way, I knew that all the spaceplanes zipping-around were ours, running training missions. Once I… as in me – My pod-and-I were now “me”… Once I got out of the docking bay, I received a request to wait for a cargo-trailer of metal cogs to arrive. While the cargo-container was ejecting-itself from another docking-bay, I felt some space-turbulence. I knew that I had to steady my pod, and keep it in the same location, or the cargo-container wouldn’t properly “attach” to my pod. I counteracted the space-turbulence by leaning left-and-right, and forwards-andbackwards. I knew how far my pod had drifted-away from its ideal pick-up coordinates. 548 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I also knew that space-turbulence was caused by volumetric stretching-and-shrinking of space near large spacecraft, or by active defense-shields. My cargo-trailer arrived behind me. I was instructed to travel very-slowly to another very-large spacecraft in the distance. A red-target mark was already displayed over the location of the too-far-away-to-see spacecraft. To move my pod, I concentrated, leaned forward, and forgot to lick my lips. My pod began accelerating… VERY slowly. Half an hour later, about one third-of the way through the journey, my pod shuttered to the left. My cargo of cogs fell away. Crap! I would have to swing-around and pick it up. The space-turbulence must have knocked my cargo-trailer free. I had been fighting it for the previous half-an-hour. It WASN’T space-turbulence. Someone had shot me… my pod! An enemy. I knew this. I also suddenly became aware that I (my body-and-mind) was mentally lethargic. The lethargy had secretly-and-silently occurred over the past ten minutes. I was almosthalf asleep. I couldn’t wake myself up. Self-releasing my own adrenaline didn’t work. Danger didn’t work. I was almost at the mental-point of thinking, “Enemy? Should I care? This is only a simulation. I want to go back to bed.”
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November 12, 2011 I must have sat motionless for at least half a minute while I tried to figure-out what to do. Oh well. This was a simulation. Yawn. I might as well dog-fight the enemy spaceplane. It might be fun. For some reason, I began to think that I should think about what kind of spacecraft the enemy was flying. I thought about this. The enemy, as my telepathy informed me, was a Hominid pyramid-shaped spear-tip fighter. It was flown by a trainee Hominid who was training for his real missions by killing me, an easy-to-hit slow-moving pod. I was suddenly aware that many of the other “friendlies” that I had felt earlier, were actually combatants. Why didn’t the artificial-intelligence warn me of this before? I had been sent-out to deliver spare-parts to the “aircraft carrier” during the middle of a dog-fight. The initial space-turbulence that I had experienced was from my home-ship’s shields. Once I got away from my home-ship, the occasional-but-strong space-turbulence that I encountered was created by fighter spaceplanes zooming-by extradimensionally. My pod, by the way, had-been programmatically-limited to a “non-combatant” three-dimensional plane in space. My pod was clearly marked, and signaling itself as a non-combatant. All of the combatants knew I that was a non-combatant. Consequently, my pod was trivial to hit, being both incredibly slow, and blinking with a non-combatant beacon. The Hominid trainee was a bastard! 550 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 CHASE THE FUCKER DOWN! My visuals of space instantaneously changed. I was no-longer limited to threedimensional “non-combatant” space. My pod went red inside, indicating that I was no-longer tagged as a non-combatant. The Hominid spear-tip fighter was behind me. He had shot down two of us noncombatants on previous trainee missions, one about an hour ago, and one yesterday. He was twenty-three years old, and had an officer-brother on the Hominid command-ship. I knew all of this without trying to know it. The information seeped in, while I maneuvered around to outflank him. I had never maneuvered ANYWHERE, but I already knew how to perform the action. Meanwhile, I noticed how “space” had changed. Previously, I was flying over a desert-planet, with a star-field above. Behind me was my cargo-ship. Far in-front was the aircraft-carrier. Space had turned a deep orange-purple. Galaxies suddenly materialized into view… along with a second star that I hadn’t seen before… along with hundreds of spacecraft speeding around. Most were unmarked. Only a few were known friendlies or enemies. My target was slow-as shit. I did a loop around, and got behind his engines. One of his engines was already damaged, producing excess volumes of space, as-well as particles that might damage my pod. I fired at his other engine. My pod’s tiny darts did nothing. Meanwhile, I felt the fields in my pod going crazy. It was like being stuck in a medical magnetic-resonating imager (MRI), but worse. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MRI) 551 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Think before you act,” was telepathed into my head. NOT, “Use the force, Luke Wendy,” a famous line from the movie, Star Wars. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_(Star_Wars) ) The pod’s artificial-intelligence thought for me, for now. I knew that I had to zoom in-front of the idiot pilot, do a spin-around, and fire through his windshield. Cool. My pod took a sudden jolt. I felt it tumble, and plunge towards the planet. Everything went dark for fifteen minutes. “You died. You just cost us $82,000 for the pod, and $7200 for a new body. Do not die again.” The real-life oxygen was sucked-out of my pod… not bad for a game simulator. I think that I actually fell unconscious. I awoke in another pod… or at least that’s what I thought. It was actually the same pod… I knew that… but the game pretended that I had died, and that my soul was placed into a new body without me knowing it. My new-body was already loaded into a new pod. Having died only twenty seconds before, I was now once-again ready for spacecombat. I was only barely-awake, when my pod automatically ejected-out into the battle. In game-terms, I died three-more times that day. In real-life, I was knocked unconscious every-time, and most-likely received atmosphere-delivered drugs to bedazzle my mind, so that I was increasingly mentally-incompetent. 552 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
When I was let-out of my pod for dinner, after what seemed like twelve-hours of training, I had no dexterity left to control my tiger-claw fork. Nor did I have any mental energy. I played with my food quite-a-lot that night, like a housecat would. I mindlessly pulled the bits of meat out of the microwave rectangle-dish with my claws. I then scooted the gravy-covered meat to the edge of the table. And with my mouth directly against the table’s edge, I scooted the meat into my mouth. “She had a bit too-much training today,” someone said.
MORE PANTHERS Jamie woke-us up the next morning, five-minutes before our morning alarm-video went off. “We have a job for you two,” Jamie whispered as she opened the door. “Get dressed, and meet them outside.” It took me just-about as long to scoot-into my red-diaper, as it took Sally to fullyclothe herself in her uniform. Despite being a Black-Panther, I found that putting-on my only article of clothing in front of Sally was embarrassing. I was just stepping-off my bed when Sally opened the door. She was greeted by some voices. I followed her out. Sally held the door open for me. In the hallway, newly arrived was another Black-Panther, and another GoldenPanther “rat”, as the two-legged Golden-Panthers who roomed with us were called.
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November 12, 2011 Jamie introduced Sally to Jen, the Golden-Panther recruit. She then introduced Jen to me. “Jen, this is Wendy.” Jen looked down at me, and politely said, “Hello, Wendy.” She followed this up with, “Wendy, this is Spam.” Wendy pointed to the other BlackPanther. “Hello Spam,” I spoke in a Panther-gruff voice. Spam smelled of stress. Her implants emoted furious anger. Spam looked me-over, and glared at me. I got a telepath from her, “They got you too. Huh.” Telepathy? Sally, Jamie, and Jen continued in verbal conversation. Ignoring their conversation, I wondered if the Golden-Panthers had telepathic-communication like ours. They didn’t seem to notice the conversation I was having with Spam. Spam noticed that they didn’t seem to notice. This pleased her. They didn’t seem to notice that this pleased her. “Sally, you show Spam and Wendy around down here. They-are in room numberfive,” Jamie said. “Jen, follow me, and I’ll get you oriented. Sally can put your bag into your room.” Jamie and the new recruit took-off. “What are we going to do?” telepathed Spam. Sally didn’t notice to the telepath. She picked-up Jen’s bag, as well as a second bag, and carried them to room-five. Sally let us enter first. I walked in, followed by Spam. 554 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Which is your bag?” asked Sally to Spam. Spam pointed to the red one with her forepaw, nearly falling over as she unbalanced herself. Sally threw Spam’s bag on the Panther bunk, and the green-one on Jen’s bunk. My thoughts leaked, “She got to keep her bag? Mine disappeared!” Spam answered, “The clothes won’t do us much good, will they?” She was in surly mood. “What do we do now?” asked Spam to me, telepathically. Sally didn’t realize that we were having the conversation. “Do you have any questions?” Sally asked verbally. “No,” verbally-grumbled Spam. Sally was clearly uncomfortable. She paused a moment to think. “Do you need to rest?” Sally verbally-asked. “How should I answer?” Spam telepathically asked me. And then she thought to herself, which was transmitted to me, “So much for my career as an architectural drafts-person.” I then got the impression that spam DID-NOT need to rest. I don’t think Spam consciously telepathed that information to me. Spam thought about my response for a second, and then verbalized. “No, I’m fine Sally. Just not very happy.” “Yeah,” Sally was flummoxed. Golden-Cats are normally extremely-polite to oneanother, and Spam had been distinctly un-polite. “Um, um.” Sally stuttered. “Do you want to see the cafeteria?” “Sure,” answered Spam. The word came-out elongated, like “Shoooor”, which sounded like the beginning of a threat. 555 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Your bright-blue underwear is on your bed,” I telepathed. “Sally,” I TELEPATHED. “Let’s leave Spam alone for a minute.” Sally didn’t hear by telepath. “Oops,” I telepathed. I spoke the same line, “Sally, let’s leave Spam alone for a minute. She needs to change her clothes.” “Oh yeah, right.” Both Sally and I walked-out the door. Ten minutes later, the door-handle jiggled. Sally opened-up the door. Spam nearly fell on top of her, blue-underwear on. “I couldn’t figure-out how to open the door,” Spam telepathed. Sally didn’t hear this. “You’re all done I see. Follow-me up the stairs,” spoke Sally. Sally led. Spam followed next. She had difficulty climbing. Spam had also failed to put her tail through the tail-scrunchie in the underwear. The top of her underwear hung a-bit low. Sally led us straight-past all of the pods, and up to the cafeteria. All three of us were about to go in, when Sally’s collar-radio went-off. “Sally. Could you pick up Sarah at the service entry-way. Thank you.” “Oops. Let’s go back down,” spoke Sally.
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November 12, 2011 Sally moved faster this time. I followed immediately behind her. After two days of practice, I had no problem scooting head-first down the steep stairs. Spam, newly attached to four legs, nearly did a face-plant. At the end of the spacecraft, near my room, was an officer Golden-Panther with a dejected-looking Black-Panther. Sally got there first. “Sally, this is Sarah,” said the officer-woman. “Hello Sarah,” said Sally… now in-charge of three cats. “This is Sarah’s book-bag. She goes in room-three. Her roommate isn’t here yet.” The officer-woman finished with a “Please look after her,” and then the woman disappeared out the door. Sarah still had her leash attached. She sat, unmoving, occasionally blinking mindlessly. Both Spam and I telepathed, “Hello,” to Sarah when we arrived at the bottom. Sarah didn’t reply. She might-perhaps have looked at us. Sally opened room-three, and put Sarah’s bag inside. “Sarah, do you want to see your room?” asked Sally. Sarah slowly-turned her head to look at Sally, but said nothing. Sarah stared again. “Jen,” Sally radioed. “Sarah is a bit out-of-it. What should I do?” Fifteen seconds later. “This is Jen. Continue with the tour. She may perk-up.” 557 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Sally picked-up the end of Sarah’s leash. Both Spam and I leered at Sally because of this… but we didn’t do anything else. Sally tugged Sarah up two flights of steps, and into the cafeteria. We followed, now seasoned veterans. “Does anyone want any food?” asked Sally to the three of us, mainly directed towards Spam and Sarah. No-one answered. Cat blank-faces. “Is anyone interested in a drink?” Sally was reaching. I rarely needed water as a Golden-Panther, and hadn’t yet needed any water as a Black-Panther. Sally stepped forward. She didn’t speak though. Was that a “Yes”? None of us could tell. “I’ll get some tangerine-drink,” responded Sally. She was going to drag Sarah with her to the drink dispenser, but instead tossed her leash-end on the ground. If Sarah had a bit-more sense, she would have run-off at that point. Instead, Sarah merely sat, and stared transfixed at her leash’s end-loop. Sally returned with a very-large cup of tangerine-drink. She held it low, in front of Sarah. Sarah first tried to drink from the edge like a person. She quickly gave-up, and began lapping at the top of the drink. With a bit of orange fluid in her, a familiar taste from high-school physical-education, Sarah began to wake up. 558 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Where’s my mother?” she spoke quietly. Sally nearly cried. Both Spam and I wedged-up against Sarah. No-one answered Sarah. Sarah lapped some more tangerine-drink. Both of us got our first telepath from her, “What the hell happened?” We had no answer. We all sat, or stood, in the cafeteria for half-an-hour, doing nothing. Sarah perked-up enough to stumble around the room. While we all watched Sarah, Jen radioed to Sally in a saddened voice, “Sally. Why don’t you take Sarah, Spam, and Wendy to the pods. We need to see you on the bridge.” Unbeknownst to me, Sally would meet with some of the command-crew ten minutes later. There, she was informed that several of our Devastation-9000 ships had been destroyed in transit to our mission site. A relative of hers was on-board one of them.
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VIDEO-GAMES WITH SPAM AND SARAH Sally pointed me to pod number-two. I impolitely-and-thoughtlessly entered it before I saw what anyone-else did. As I climbed into my seat, I heard Spam verbally complain about having to clamberup to pod number-four. Sarah had to be butt-pushed assisted into pod number-six, which was slightly lower. I didn’t hear about this until a few days later, when Sarah was laughing-off her firstday’s adventures. “Shit. How the fuck do I get in this thing!” complained Spam over the radio as she tried to get her arms and legs into their holsters. Sarah was much quieter. I knew she was there. I knew I had been appointed squadleader for now. I knew Sarah had figured-out how to get into her pod. I could read Sarah’s mind! She was a total wreck. She was totally confused. I won’t reveal private information, but she was even younger than I was, and had done very-well in school. Her mind-link to my mind calmed her down. “Are you alright [Sarah]?” I thought. “Yeah. No. Why am I playing video-games at the mall?” I reinforced that thought. “Don’t worry. We’ll just play some games.” All three-of us ejected from different docking-bays out of an enormous sphericalspaceship. I was the first out. I whirled my pod around to watch the other-two leave. “Crap, these graphics are good. They even have scratches in the paintwork. [I’m lucky if I can get my computer to do a line rendering of a building.]” That was Spam. 560 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Spam got her pod out easily, and began running the mission. I ignored the mission for now. “Just wait Spam. Sarah’s not out yet.” I was telepathically informed that Sarah had been given a neural-boost while she was in her motorbike-seat. Sarah’s pod took fifteen minutes to launch. It actually hit the top of the docking-bay as she tried to fly it out. I laughed. Sarah merely thought, “Shit!” Spam didn’t notice this, because she was already hauling toilet-paper around.
JEWEL ARRIVES… MORE VIDEO-GAMES Half-way through our third mission, the lights went on, and our pod-doors opened. I backed-up, and was on the ground first. Spam nearly fell-off her ramp as she backed out. Sarah, being smaller, somehow turned herself around inside her pod, and walkeddown head-first… which was easier. Sarah was VERY twitchy, and acted like she had drunk six eight sixteen cups of caffeinated soft-drink. “Someone else can get pod-four next,” Spam telepathically-mumbled. I had no-idea what Spam meant. 561 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Also on the mezzanine level was Jen, a Golden-Panther officer, and another BlackPanther. “How was your ride?” asked Jen. I answered. “Good.” “That’s nice to here. Girls [non-pejorative], this is Jewel.” We all looked at Jewel, and said telepathic “Hello’s”. Jen most-likely did-not hear our telepaths. Jewel may not have either. To Jen, the atmosphere appeared frigid. “Right,” she chirpily-said, “It’s time for dinner. For those of you who don’t know, the toilet is opposite the cafeteria, just-off the card-room.” Jen continued with a “Follow me,” and led us into the cafeteria. Several Golden-Panther officers were sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for us to arrive. Jen sat-down in a corner seat. The four of us climbed onto the benches, or sat on the ground near the wall. We all had meals placed in front of us, and were handed tiger-claws. I had enough skill with the techno-fork that I began eating right-away. The three other Panthers watched me eat, to see how it was done. After one of the officers had eaten half her food, she stood-up in front of the cafeteria counter, and began speaking. “The officers have already been briefed on these matters. I will brief you tonight. Spam, you will have to relay this information to all newcomers.” “We will depart in a few days, as soon as all of our crew has boarded.”
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November 12, 2011 “We will be assigned to Alliance space, where we will be helping them fend-off Hominid incursions.” “The trip will take several weeks, at which point we will enter combat immediately. We might see combat on the way there. One of our ships was recently lost on the way.” “Over the next few weeks, you will undertake training in the pod simulators.” “Your roommates will assist you in the mornings and evenings. They will have different positions during the day, relevant to your safety. I cannot go into more detail about their roles.” “Thank you, and welcome to our team.” “After you finish eating, you can return to your pods for a few hours of play.”
Spam was squad-leader that night. A few days later, Wedge took the lead.
THE COMMAND BRIDGE More Black-Panthers, and a few Golden-Panther “rats”, arrived the next day. Rather than training, we were given a tour of “the bridge”. Beyond the cafeteria and card-room doors was an airlock door, which was typically kept closed. Black-Panthers were never allowed beyond the airlock door, except for this one occasion. Our Golden-Panther roommates passed through the airlock-door every day, though. They slept on our side of the airlock, but they worked on the other side.
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November 12, 2011 On the “other side” of the airlock-door was a T-intersection, with a hallway travelling off to the left and right. Off of the hallway, was a nicer cafeteria than ours, some toilets, laundry facilities, as well as an exercise room. The hallway also attached to several command decks, offices, and more dorm rooms. There was a medical-lounge, where medical procedures could be carried out... typical hospital stuff. Stored in a nearby “chiller”-room, were body-bags with replacement Black-Panther and Golden-Panther bodies. These were to be used if any of our current bodies died. There were a LOT of Black-Panther bodies, suspended in suction-wrap clear-plastic, and hanging from the ceiling. The “upstairs” also had three command decks. Each command deck was a rectangular room, six-meters by ten-meters. During our tour, we (the Black-Panthers) were led into one of the command-decks. When I walked into room, I walked into outer-space. The floor, ceiling, and walls were entirely wallpapered with video-displays of a starfield. All of the stars, galaxies, and nebulas that were visible to the ship, were drawn on the walls by computer-graphics, like a planetarium. Planets, space-stations, and spaceplanes were also illustrated. They were visually highlighted with green targetboxes, their names displayed next to them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planetarium) The wallpaper video-displays were three-dimensional volumes, about half-a-meter thick. Staff could reach into the displays and touch a star, or a planet, or a spacecraft. The object would be visually enlarged, and a text-box would appear adjacent to the object, with few paragraphs of information about the object. Putting your hand into the volumetric-display felt like putting your hand into a thin Jell-O. The floor displays, also volumetric, were protected from our feet by a glassfloor suspended above it, which we stood on. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jell-O)
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November 12, 2011 Three control-consoles were positioned in the room, one in front, and two to the sides. Each console had a few monitors, keyboards, and various buttons. When someone would touch an object in the volumetric display, more-detailed information about the object would appear on the control-console monitors. During operational flight, every control-console would have two operators. Six-to-ten “spotters” would wander-around the room, surveying the volumetric displays for interesting objects and anomalies. Many spaceplanes could hide by “wrapping space” around themselves. The ship’s artificial-intelligence was always looking for spatial anomalies, most-of-which were naturally-formed. The Golden-Panther spotters added an extra layer of observation to the ship’s artificial-intelligence. They would watch the anomalies that the artificial-intelligence found interesting, and highlight them. If an anomaly were sufficiently interesting, a spotter would reach into the volumetric display, and poke the object. Information about the object would be forwarded to the control-consoles, where console-operators could view the data, and decide whether to send ping-signals to see how the anomaly behaved. An interesting anomaly might have a probe sent to investigate it. Or, one of us Black-Panthers might be directed to fly our pods to investigate the anomaly. Any information gained from our pod, a probe, or the ping, would be automatically collected-and-analyzed by the ship’s artificial-intelligence, as well as being displayed on the command-consoles. The three command-decks all faced different “directions”, often rotated out-of ordinary three-dimensional space. The crew working in one command-deck might see a radically-different view of the surrounding space, compared to what staff in the other command-decks saw. 565 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 During operation, one-out-of-three of the command-decks was always running a simulation-game. The command-crew often simulated combat scenarios, sometimes the same combat-scenarios that we were running. They played games similar to the ones we played, but instead of one-person per pod, all of them were in the same room. Our pods could move quickly, haul trailers, and fire darts. From the bridge, the officers could fire plasma weapons, shells, darts, and missiles, as well as directing our pods. We all assumed that our roommates worked (and played simulations) on the command-decks, though we were never told that explicitly. For secrecy reasons, we never discussed our work with them, and vice-versa. After the two-hour tour, we were led back to the “Panther-deck” to relax.
PANTHER-PACK We spent several weeks training in the simulator. Most of our days were spent in our pods, training playing… Our training was so-fun and enjoyable that we thought of it as game-play. As a Golden-Panther teenager, video-games had only been something to do once-aweek at the shopping-mall. Now, either because the video-games were morerealistic, or because I was a Black-Panther playing amidst friends, the video-games were authentically fun-and-engrossing. What was most-enjoyable about them was the chaotic chase. And then, eating afterwards. And then sleeping after that. That was our day. 566 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When I was a Golden-Panther, spending time with people was very-important to me. Knowing information about specific individuals was also important. As a Black-Panther in a group, I interacted with, and cared-about the other BlackPanthers in the group. But I didn’t know them as individuals, at all. My existence was as an individual. But, I only knew the other individuals as a group. We communicated to the pack exclusively, and only very-rarely communicated oneon-one. Even if I had a thought that I wanted to transmit to only one person, I would broadcast the thought to everyone in the pack, out of laziness, comradery, and openness. We interacted solely with other Black-Panthers, to the exclusion of our roommate Golden-Panthers. Only a few of our roommates ever felt comfortable-enough around-us to eat in the cafeteria when we did. And often, they were treated as servants, because they had hands. They were continually “on call” to dispense and warm-up our meals. To our roommates, their cafeteria-experience was like walking into a zoo-cage full of wild animal-panthers. They knew that we were intelligent, and that we were NOT animals. They knew they should feel safe amongst us. But they always felt on-edge, and excluded, especially since we never verbally-spoke to other Black-Panthers in the pack. Half-of-us going naked didn’t help either. Nor did our group-messiness during dinner. Risotto would always rudely be left scattered-about the carpet. Our Golden-Panther roommates would have to servantlike vacuum the floor afterwards. Interspecies relations were NOT good.
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November 12, 2011
ACTUAL COMBAT Our video alarm-clock would wake us up every morning. Fifteen minutes later, we would congregate on the mezzanine for the day’s instructions, if there were any. We would then climb into our pods, and chase the day away. This morning, a video-screen in the mezzanine turned on. The ship’s military commander spoke: “Good morning.” “As you all know, we have been travelling towards Alotian space on a mission to help our Cat-evolved comrades.” “We have been in Alotian space for the last four days.” “We are now in the combat zone.” “At ANY time, and I stress ANY time, we might suddenly enter combat, and your skills and prowess will be called-upon to defend us.” “Thank you.”
With the briefing finished, we climbed into our pods. We COMPLETELY forgot that we were potentially in a war-situation. Over the past several-weeks, we had played through fifty different game-scenarios. All of them were very different. This morning’s game scenario was just as different from every other game scenario, as they all had been. In the scenario, our tiny battleship was “anchored” about ten-kilometers from a wrecked battleship, even-smaller than ours. We didn’t know whose it was, or what it looked like. Scans had shown that there were no survivors – most likely. 568 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A week before, we had done a cat-and-mouse hunt in a simulated derelict battleship. There had been no enemies, just lots-of-fun as we pinged one-another with our pods’ darts. We learned to never-trust our initial mission-briefing, though. What happened in the real game-scenario was ALWAYS different than what our mission-briefing told us was going to happen. Unexpected surprises almost-always presented themselves. “There’ll be survivors today,” telepathed someone. “I want to explore the hallways,” added someone else. Our pods were small-enough that we could fly through the hallways of derelict ships. Turning corners was a bitch though… so I was told. We’d have to stand our threemeter-long capsule-shaped pods on-end to make the ninety-degree turns. The entire world would rotate as we did so, with the floor-and-ceiling becoming temporary walls. The hallway we were turning into would become a very-deep-and-scary pit. After making the turn, we would get lost. We accidentally backtracked half the time. It was a LOT of fun… so I was told. But I MISSED that scenario! So far, I was aware that three of us were playing. Our Panther-pack was often randomly-split into two or three different simulations. Most scenarios only required a few people to play. All three of us launched at once. The capsules had momentum-simulators to simulate the feel of an actual launch. Sometimes, the momentum-simulators worked markedly better than other times. Today’s launch was at the eighty-percent mark, as far as “cool”. It actually felt like we were launching. My pod ejected from the port side. As I flew-away from the ship, I saw two greencolored pods off to my left, exiting from the starboard side of the ship. The two pods were directed to approach the battle-damaged wreck using a vineweave formation, just in-case they were being hunted. 569 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My mission, automatically known to me, was to have to look at a “blip” a fewkilometers away from the wreck. The blip’s crosshairs were already displayed on my screen. The blip was closer to our ship than the wreck was. “Fuck,” I thought, “I wanted to wander the tunnels, not chase after yet-another blip.” No-one answered my complaint. The game must have been simulating radio-silence. While the other two slowly vine-weaved, I veered-off to the right, and headed straight for the blip. The sooner I investigated the blip, the sooner I’d be able to get back to the fun part of this scenario, checking-out the derelict-ship’s tunnels. At first, the blip was nothing more than yellow crosshairs on my display. There was no distance measure, intentionally, in case an enemy was reading my mind. Half-way to the blip, and the blip crosshairs disappeared. That had happened before. They would likely reestablish themselves in little-while. I continued on a straight path, heading towards where the crosshairs had been. The computer was most-likely testing me to see if I could mentally lock onto a target. I had completely forgotten about the opportunity to crawl through the tunnels. The yellow crosshairs reappeared. A small green object was barely visible at the crosshair’s center. “Cool,” I thought. I hadn’t seen these graphics before. I visually zoomed-in on the image, using maximum zoom. Centered between the crosshairs was a green-ish field of tiles, surrounded by a fuzziness that faded the tiles into stars. The visuals might have been a bug. The computer-graphics libraries were full of drawing-bugs. The green-tiles surrounded by fuzziness might just have been an 570 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 incorrectly-rendered “sprite” (a computer-graphics term) that would turn-out to be yet-another message-pod. We were all sick of message pods. Half of the scenarios involved investigating a blip, only to discover yet-another message-pod! “Now that you have found this message pod, go collect three trailers of underwear, and deliver them to the waiting battleship.” As I got closer, the fuzzy-border around the tiles expanded. More-and-more blueyellow green-tiles became visible. I could even see a white-ish grout in-between. I noticed that the circular-border was not only fuzzy, but that it refracted light. Light from distant-stars very-noticeably refracted around the edge. I had only-ever seen minor amounts of refraction drawn, when a damaged engine was “spitting out space”. Today’s computer-drawn refraction was ten-times as great. As far as a computer-graphics special-effect, the more-noticeable refraction wasn’t all-that impressive, though. Just in-case this scenario turned-out to be an interesting one, I began to weave a bit. (I hated to lose on interesting scenarios. I didn’t care if I lost when playing the boring ones.) Weaving back-and-forth was supposed to make our pods more-difficult to hit. It never seemed to make a difference though. As I approached the hole in space, it suddenly enlarged, and the tiles suddenly shrunk. The visual changes were all from my point-of-view. Anyone watching the hole would have seen no change to it. My pod might have shrunk in size, though, as it approached the spatial anomaly. Behind the hole was a battleship nearly as large as ours. Cool special-effect! Something bothered me. The computer-graphics had just-gotten a little-bit too-good. Could that hiding battleship be real? I began to get nervous. 571 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What had I done the last time I was all-alone, and had encountered a battleship? It had been hiding behind an asteroid. The rest of the team didn’t notice it until I accidentally spotted the simulated ship, and yelled-out. Think… I twitched my right pinkie to send a very-short very-hard-to-detect emergency blip. At this point in time, it slowly dawned on me that this battleship was real, and that I was actually remotely piloting a drone-pod towards a real battleship. Two thoughts broke into my head: One: If I got the drone-pod blown-up, I’d be charged real money, taken from my salary. Two: If what I saw was actually a real battleship, it might actually really blow us up. Our pods were “weather-tight” and would survive an explosion. We would just drift for a few hours… no-one would bother shooting our pods down… and a friendly ship would pick us up. Everyone-else on-board wouldn’t be so lucky. They would depressurize and die. I didn’t have long to dwell on the matter… The hole suddenly enlarged so-much that it disappeared. I (my remotely-controlled pod) was only fifty-meters away from an enemy battleship. Fuck! My pod was going to get destroyed. Fuck! That would cost me $20,000, at least, of real money! Telepathic alert: “Get 572 | P a g e
the hell out of there!”
November 12, 2011 Instincts and artificial-intelligence kicked in! I veered up, twirled around, and headed straight-back towards our ship… … which I could see, about five kilometers away. The artificial-intelligence began automatically weaving. I had forgotten to weave. “Come on! Come on! Hurry up!” I hated automatic weaving. It slowed me down to a crawl. I had to get back to the ship before I was shot. “Hurry up!” came a telepath. The forefront of our ship began to glow white-hot. Within two seconds, the glow was one-quarter the size of our ship. And then the burst hurled from the side plasma-turret of our ship, white-light half as large as the ship. I hadn’t seen the ship fire before. The spherical burst narrowed as it came towards me. Crap! I was going to be hit by it! Luckily not. The burst passed directly underneath me. I didn’t look-back to see where it went. Fifteen seconds later, an artificial-intelligence telepathic-sentence came through, “The enemy ship has been hit.” I still didn’t look back. Forward! 573 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Concentrate. My pod’s artificial-intelligence changed to “running-scared-home” mode. Ten-seconds later, my visuals and information blacked-out. Everything in the pod was quiet. Absolutely fucking quiet. I was panting. My tail was erect in excitement. I waited in silence. Were we going to be blown-up? How would I know? We hadn’t yet trained on that simulation.
Outside the ship, unbeknownst to me at the time: As I began my “run home”, three other enemy-ships appeared from extradimensional-space. One ship appeared very-close to the wreck. Our ship launched missiles. Meanwhile, the enemy ships fired beams (or darts) in the vicinity of the derelict ship. Two of the enemy ships, furthest-away from the wreck where my two comrades were training, were detonated by two ten-kiloton missiles. Another missile hit the ship that I had scouted out, just in-case the plasma pulse hadn’t damaged-it enough.
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November 12, 2011 Two missile-bots flew out of our battleship, and wove their way towards the last enemy battleship near the wreck. That battleship received two one-kiloton detonations.
A quarter of an hour after my pod docked, I received a telepathic thump that we were still alive. My pod would soon be turned-around so that I could exit it. I wouldn’t be able to exit my pod for at least another quarter of an hour. End of transmission. Utter silence. I may perhaps-have felt my pod turning around. I waited. Half an hour later, a slightly-depressed telepathic message was whispered to me, informing me that I’d be in the dark for awhile longer. Fifteen minutes later, my pod-lights came on, shocking my eyes with their brightness. My pod’s door opened behind-me. My limb-grips released. And I walked-out backwards. Everyone was gathered down-below. “Someone didn’t come back,” was telepathed to me as soon as I had backed-out of my pod. Everyone was assembled “on deck,” including our roommates and the battle-captain. “Wendy, good job,” she said, as I reached the floor. “We sunk four enemy vessels.” 575 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A telepathic cheer. “One took a beam-hit, followed by a missile.” “Two went down by missiles.” “One had remote-controlled land-mines detonate its life-support.” “One of our people didn’t come back. She was destroyed by a plasma-pulse directed at her by the enemy.” Pause. “We don’t have her soul.” A moment of prayer. “We are currently in flight.” “SSSk ships are picking-up the pieces.” Rene didn’t make it back. Spam’s pod had been disabled, and had to be towed-back. The next day, I was publicly berated for not approaching the blip cautiously enough. Spam also received a “commendation”. Spam and Rene had both seen a hole on the other side of the vessel. They also thought it was a bug in the computer software. They had seen such holes before while playing simulations, and had ignored them without ill-effect. We ate after the briefing, but not in the cafeteria. Food was brought down to us on the mezzanine floor. We ate in silence. Oak and Carry were given blue-stims. I didn’t know why. After we finished eating, everyone, the Black-Panthers and the Golden “rats”, returned to their rooms. 576 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As I walked down the stairs, I thought to myself, “Fuck!” My pod had actually been out in the battle… Shit! Now that the meal was over, I was fucking terrified. Sally opened the door to our room. I entered. She followed, and closed the door behind us. I hopped onto my bed. Sally undressed to her underwear, and silently crept into her bed. My bed felt very-cold, very-uninviting, and very-alone. I wasn’t going to sleep-alone tonight. Not with the fear-sense about me. Every “ting” and rumble of the ship made me nervous. I hopped out of my bed, and climbed into bed with Sally.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER REAL COMBAT We were given the next day off. All we did was laze-around near the exit door, just outside of our rooms… in a Panther-pack. I was still mentally “thick” from the day before. We lay-around for at least half a day. It was difficult to tell though, since there were no clocks. Our only cue was the morning alarm-video, and the dimming of the lights. As it turns out, we didn’t actually get the entire day off. At midday, the lights brightened to wake us up from our torpor. Our chasing-instincts began to itch. We watched, as one of the officers quietly entered through the airlock-door, two stairways above. She walked past the cafeteria door, down one clanking set of metal steps, past our pod-caves, and down the next staircase, to our level. We already knew what to expect. “Unfortunately, we need you to do some more training.” The officer must-have expected to be mauled by nine surly Panthers. We didn’t maul her. This time… “The pods will be turned-on in half an hour.” The officer turned-around to walk back up the stairs, but stopped, and looked back at us. “Thank you.” 578 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And, she then made a retreat up the steps. We waited for her to get all of the way up to the cafeteria before acting. I clambered up the steps, and immediately hopped into my pod. I might as well begin playing now, I thought. Other people took their time to visit the toilet. My pod’s door closed, and its screens activated. I was very-specifically informed that my pod was NOT physically launched, and that I was either flying a real but-inexpensive probe, or I was flying a simulated one. I won’t go into the scenario details… All I did was whiz my pod around, looking for anomalies. My pod’s sensors spotted some anomalies. They may have been real anomalies, or they may have been simulated and superimposed on reality, or the entire experience may have been simulated. All of the anomalies disappeared when I got close to them. Many disappeared as soon as I noticed them. I didn’t see any other pods flying around. No-one else seemed to be playing in the same scenario that I was playing in, which made the scenario especially boring. After an hour, I was released. The pod lights went on. The door behind-me opened up. And I walked out. Below was a Golden-Panther officer. She instructed me to get some food from the cafeteria. “That was a short day,” I thought to myself… Sally and other Golden “rats” were in the cafeteria eating. None of the BlackPanthers were there, except me. 579 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One of the officers brought me some food, and I ate alone… in a room full of GoldenPanthers. Just as I was finishing, Spam and Diamond entered. I left with Sally to return to our room. I’m not homosexual, but Black-Panthers like to sleep on-top of one-another when they’re stressed-out. I was stressed out. I jumped onto Sally’s bed for comfort. It felt much safer than my own cold-and-steely bunk. Sleep.
ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! I didn’t know that they had red flashing-lights in our dorm rooms. “Beep-buzz! Beep-buzz! Beep-Buzz!” Red-flashing light. I learned what housecats felt like when the person they were sleeping on suddenly woke-up, and flung them off the bed. I was nearly as heavy as Sally, but we were operating in reduced gravity. Her instant reaction to the alarm, rolled me to the edge of the bed. Ten seconds later, I tumbled-off the bed. “Beep-buzz! Beep-buzz! Beep-Buzz!” 580 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Sally put her clothes on. Red-flashing light. “Beep-buzz! Beep-buzz! Beep-Buzz!” “Come-on!” I ran-naked into my next combat. So did everyone else. Diamond may have had her red-underwear half-on as she ran into her pod. A pack of nine Panthers ran-up and into their pods, knocking-over four of their Golden-Panther roommates. We were loaded and launched before our roommates got past the cafeteria. I was going to be launched into ACTUAL fucking combat! Wait a minute… I had no idea why I was so eager to enter combat. It must have been the FriendlyPet™ implant. But I didn’t get launched… All I got was gunnery. When my pod’s visuals faded onto the wallpaper-display, my pod was NOT already flying into space. Instead, twin gun-turrets graphically faded-into my pod’s fore-screen. I had never done gunnery before. Oh well… so much for training.
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November 12, 2011 Not having ever trained on the guns, I already knew how to operate them. I used my forearms to swivel left-and-right. I leaned forward to arc up-and-down. And my head-movements applied micro-adjustments. Whatever I would concentrate-on, would be automatically targeted, and zoomed-in on. Two seconds after the gun-turrets and star-field faded into view, I began firing. In front of me was a smaller enemy-vessel, about the size of a bus. The ship was fully “uncloaked”, and was no-longer hiding behind a hole. I took aim at the first vessel. I zoomed-in by concentrating. The ship had a window in front… odd. Most battle-ready spaceplanes didn’t have windows. Windows were a liability. Inside, I could see an Aussie (an older-race of Hominid) furiously typing-away at a terminal. I knew that I was in fast-time… He was moving at half the rate I was. I aimed straight for the window. I aimed straight at his head. I could see his eyebrows. I fired. The bolts took three seconds of my time to get there. They flew through the window, and depressurized the cabin. I think I missed his head. With the cabin depressurized, my next thought was to aim for the ship’s engines. I knew exactly where they were.
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November 12, 2011 I re-aimed the turrets to the right-and-below the punctured windows. I was still visually zoomed-in. From my perspective, the guns were rotating extremely slowly. Panning the fivemeters distance to the engine took fifteen seconds of my time. The section of enemy spaceplane that I was looking at, “felt” hot. I fired two volleys of two darts into the engines. The darts moved in slow motion. I didn’t wait for them to hit. Instead, I rapidly zoomed-out, slowly to me, and spotted another bus-sized ship coming out of hiding. Only half of it was visible behind its spatial-distortion weave. Sometime about then, I received a telepathic notification that the bolts had hit the first ship. All I saw of the second spaceplane was a blue-yellow green-fuselage, framed by a circular haze. I had no clear target on the ship. Firing arbitrarily at it would merely puncture holes in the crew quarters, or something equally as ineffective. My artificial-intelligence let me know that I’d be better-off firing. I had plenty of bolts left. I aimed at the upper-right edge of the visible enemy-ship. Its engines might be there. I fired. The bolts flew extremely slowly. I aimed a bit-further towards the centre of the visible circle… … and fired two-more bolts. My first set of bolts were only one-third of the way to their destination. 583 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Now requested by the artificial-intelligence to NOT waste bolts, I waited and watched. The spatial-weave was slowly dissipating, revealing the enemy ship. It looked to be larger than the first bus-sized craft. I glanced-over at the first enemy-spaceplane. Despite having-been punctured by bolts, it fired bolts back at us. They were just leaving the ship’s gun-turrets. They-also moved in slow motion. I looked back at the bolts that I had fired at the second enemy-ship. They were going wide. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but the hide-away spatialweave that the ship used was dissipating. The paths of the momentum-directed bolts were being bent by the spatial changes. I began to take aim at the first ship that I had hit. The first set of bolts that I had fired at the second-ship, were going to miss. They went wide, and to the right. The other bolts veered left. I wondered if I should target the hidden gun-turret on the first ship. I had seen where the bolts had fired from. My pod’s artificial-intelligence alerted-me to glance-back at my first set of bolts. The bolts had completely bypassed the target… … But they impacted something hiding behind. I only saw a small burst of light, as an errant bolt hit some energy-gear on a completely-invisible third enemy-ship, behind the second enemy-ship. I heard someone should “Fuck!” over my intercom, but eight-times as long as normal, and three-octaves lower. The ship’s artificial-intelligence automatically ignited a strobe-pulse, which lit-up all of the surrounding space. 584 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A white silhouette of a fucking-huge cube-shaped battleship was illuminated. It was easily ten-times as long, wide, and deep as ours ship. Which meant it was onethousand-times the mass. Two seconds after the ship’s light-silhouette briefly appeared, “We’re outgunned,” was telepathed to me. We bolted. Space turned inside out. My target-crosshairs faded into points. All the lights went-out in my pod. I got a telepathic blip that I was to stay there for awhile. Ten-minutes later, my pod-lights turned-on to a very-dim glow. I telepathically learned that two Panthers were left marooned when we ran… But we had to run, because a ship that size would vaporize-us in a millisecond. Forty minutes later, my pod doors opened. I backed out, as usual. My legs didn’t work well. It was difficult to breathe. All of my muscles were sore. I must have been given atmospheric stim-drugs while I was firing. Now that they had worn-off, I was suddenly very out-of-it. I nearly fell-off my ramp as I backed out. Sally was on the floor. 585 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She hitched a collar to me. I barely noticed, I was so dazed. Sally led me up to the cafeteria. Everyone-else was eating food in silence. I was led into the cafeteria. I had to be helped onto the bench. Food was already waiting. Sally hand-fed me. I learned that the two marooned people died, but their souls were rescued. They would be deployed with another crew. A serious battle had erupted after we fled. The Aussies had been stalking-us since our victory two days before. Meanwhile, the Golden-Panther “vet” buzzed around-me, injecting me with stims. I hardly noticed her. I wasn’t very hungry. I was hand-fed another bite. I don’t remember going to sleep. Seriously. I know that I ate. And then I remember waking-up in the middle of the night for a few seconds. And then I awoke in the morning.
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As I found out later, my body relaxed. My head slumped-down onto the table. And then, my body fell-off the bench that I sat on. I had died. Everyone just-stared at my collapsed body for half a minute. Someone eventually checked my breathing and heart-rate. My heart had stopped beating. The medical-officer, who had just sat down to eat, rushed upstairs, and returned with a hand ventilator and “resurrection” drugs. The drugs were injected above my heart using a very-long needle. I was ventilated for half an hour before I stabilized. Three officers carried my limp body to my bunk.
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A DAY OF REST I didn’t get out of bed for half the day. I was in a mental fog, kind-of a delirium. Sally brought food into our room, and fed me. And then I slept. And woke-up and ate. And slept again.
HOMINID CORE-SHIPS I won’t use the term “Death-star”, because that name is already taken by the movie, “Star Wars”. People who fight them call them “Death moons”… Not a veryimpressive term. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Star, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars) I prefer “Core-ship”. Hominid core-ships look like they do in the movie, “Star wars”, minus the energybeam dimple. They are spheres, ranging in size from eight-kilometers to four-hundred-kilometers across. They are constructed of a solid sphere-core of fissile material, uranium or higher. The entire surface of the sphere-core is covered with blue-grey-painted buildings of various heights. 588 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A four-hundred-kilometer diameter core-ship can have a population of up to twopoint-five billion people. ( x 400-km x 400 km x 5000 people/km2) Core-ships are used to transport the populations of entire planets. They can also be used as aircraft-carriers, combined with troop-carriers, combined with ice-breakers. They can push their way into any solar-system, destroy a planet’s defenses, and deploy an enormous invasion-force. Meanwhile, anyone attacking a core-ship will find them extremely difficult to destroy, requiring an assault force of approximately half the core-ship’s population.
HOMINID CORE-SHIP We knew that our battleship had been called-in to help fight a core-ship. We were briefed by the Golden-Panther combat-commander about what we should expect. Unfortunately, our simulator didn’t have any core-ship training-sessions. The computer-programmers had never actually fought a core-ship. After the briefing and dinner, we were given time to sleep, helped by stims. Two hours before we reached the core-ship, we were woken-up. An hour before the core-ship battle, we were loaded into our pods. We sat in the dark. Thirty minutes of anticipation. And then… … Whoosh!
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November 12, 2011 All of the sudden, my pod’s visuals came on, and I was flying through the trenches of a core-ship. I knew that there were three core-ships in the area, all hovering around an Alotian planet. The Alotians were neutral. They didn’t want the core-ships around, and they REALLY didn’t want a core-ship battle above their planets. I knew that I was flying through the trenches of the largest core-ship, four-hundredkilometers in diameter. I knew that my mission was to run-around the trenches and map them, directed by my pod’s artificial-intelligence. That’s it. That’s all that I was supposed to do. It would be a boring scenario if it weren’t for the fact that I thought it to be very real. Of course, we could have been lied to… more like deceived. What I saw in front of me wasn’t necessarily real. Despite what our combatcommander said, a core-ship simulation could have been uploaded into our ship’s computer. I might be playing in a computer-simulated combat against a core-ship. There was also a chance that I was remotely-piloting a pod through the core-ship’s building-canyons. And then there was the chance that I was in the pod. All of this information took two minutes to relay. Meanwhile, my artificial-intelligence did most of the flying work. My brain eventually kicked-in. I was flying down the center of vacuum-atmosphere city-street, with buildings up to ten stories high on either side. 590 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A “T”-intersection was coming-up. A dead-end was directly in-front of me. Small alleyways branched to the left and the right. “Did I want to travel left or right?” queried the pod’s artificial-intelligence. “Left.” Zip-zoom. My pod instantaneously zipped-turned left at a one-hundred-degree angle; the Tintersection was more of a crooked-T. The turn was so rapid that I didn’t perceive it happen. Nor did I feel the turn’s angular-momentum. I was telepathically informed that a few wall-guns shot at my pod. They missed. From the previous day’s briefing, I knew that if the wall-guns hit my pod, they would most-likely do nothing. The darts they fired couldn’t be very powerful, or any darts that missed would penetrate the walls of the opposite building, depressurizing whatever buildings were across the street. My job as a pilot was to choose “left” or “right” when my pod came to an intersection. Less-importantly, I was to maneuver my pod within the confines of the street-canyon, which was about ten-meters wide. If I forgot to maneuver, or made a maneuvering mistake, my pod’s artificialintelligence would take control. If I wasn’t fast-enough at deciding left or right, or if I chose the wrong direction, my pod’s artificial-intelligence would make the decision for me. My pod’s artificial-intelligence was tasked with mapping-out the buildings, as well as the locations of gun turrets, energy sources, Hominid populations, and spaceplane hangers. Another “T”-intersection approached at one-hundred kilometers-per-hour. A deadend was once-again looming. 591 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Right or left? “Right”. Crap! I crashed. My pod failed to turn right, and I went straight into a building. I got a momentary glimpse of some very-startled red-headed Hominid-women… before they depressurized. And then the really scary scene happened… The pod that crashed was an unmanned aerial-vehicle. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_aerial_vehicle) My visuals instantaneously changed. I found myself on-approach to the core-ship, perhaps one-hundred kilometers away. “You totaled your only remote-pod. This is for real.” One of the Golden-Panther officers spoke that. “I have been piloting you in. You-are in-control now.” “I have been piloting you in” didn’t boost my confidence. Golden-Panthers were notoriously-bad pod-pilots. On a per-second basis, my life was more in-danger with her piloting my pod, than if I were flying-around the core-ship trenches. Anyway, I was still alive. By that point, two of my group had already been hit and depressurized. Their bodies had died. Their souls were being flown back by soulcatchers. They’d be in new bodies shortly. I needed to orient myself. Spacecraft were everywhere.
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November 12, 2011 They were unlabeled. I didn’t know if they were friendly or not. Nor did they know if I was friendly or not… Their only clue was that I was heading in, towards the core-ship, so I must be part of the assault-team. A few very-large darts flew past me, originating from the core-ship. They most-likely targeted one of the larger ships, not me. No-one was chasing me. Pods were just a nuisance to the enormous battle. My journey-in took fifteen minutes. When I got within a kilometer of the four-hundred-kilometer core-ship, my artificialintelligence warned me to expect darts fired in my direction. I wasn’t alerted if any darts were fired at my pod though, perhaps as a precaution in-case anyone was reading my mind. The artificial-intelligence automatically vectored me into a building-canyon. I felt no momentum-forces as I moved, although I felt an awful-lot of fields. I was being severely irradiated by my pod’s anti-momentum and fast-time fields. Most-likely, my body would die within days. I swooped into a very-wide building-canyon, perhaps one-hundred meters across. To either side were city-blocks of tall buildings, as well as flat runway-like regions. I was soon flying below building-height in the canyon, automatically piloted by my pod’s artificial-intelligence. As I zoomed-along, at what appeared to be fifty kilometers-per-hour, I noticed Hominid military and transport vessels parked on “runway” surfaces adjacent to the canyon. My artificial-intelligence informed me that I would be turning right into an unmapped alleyway. Based on the speed of the buildings flying past, my pod appeared (to me) to-have slowed to twenty kilometers-per-hour. My pod was travelling at fifty kilometers-per-
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November 12, 2011 hour, but I was in a fast-time field, so it only looked-like twenty kilometers-per-hour to me. When the turn came, my pod appeared (to me) to slow-down to five kilometers-perhour. The blue-grey iron-walls of the core-ship buildings changed-color to purple. My pod turned right, into a ten-meter wide canyon. My speed perceptually increased to twenty-kilometers per hour. During the turn, radiation-fields were INCREDIBLY intense. The pod most-likely didn’t slow down. Instead, it entered fast-time for a few seconds. One minute of real-time, lasted ten-minutes for me and the pod. I sped through the building-canyon. I knew that I had to follow the canyon-turns in a stair-step pattern: First left, then make a right, then make another left, and then a right. The first “T”-intersection was coming up. My artificial-intelligence asked me which way I wanted to go. “Left.” Time slowed-down on the outside. From my perspective, my pod once-again slowed to five kilometers-per-hour, so it could successfully turn into the ten-meter alleyway. My pod’s artificial-intelligence ignored my “left” prompt, and gracefully turned my pod right. I could actually feel the momentum-forces this time. If my arms and legs weren’t strapped-in, I would have fallen-off the motorcycle-seat. Just as I turned right, two darts flew in front of my pod, sourcing from the alley I had just left. Fuck! I was being chased! Time sped-up, and I was heading down a long alley. 594 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t do much of anything, except panic. My artificial-intelligence informed me that the alley ended in a left-turn. I was going to bank left. I tried looking behind me to see if anything was chasing. Maybe. I couldn’t tell. I might have seen the extradimensional blur of a Hominid pyramid-shaped spear-tip ship. It would have been four-meters across… … But I only barely saw a motion-blurred outline of a shadow behind me. I returned my gaze forward. The alleyway turn was only twenty-meters away. Time slowed in the outside world again. This time, my pod had to bank-hard to make the corner. The star-field sky was nolonger above me. It was to my right, the ground to my left, and a building above. I REALLY felt the momentum-forces this time. They pulled me hard into my seat. Time sped-up outside. My pod travelled thirty-meters more, to the end of the alleyway. It was just righting-itself. I reached the end of the alleyway. The buildings to my left-and-right disappeared. The canyon opened-out.
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November 12, 2011 My pod began flying-over a large “tarmac” section of the core-ship. Military spaceplanes were parked all-over its surface. While I flew through the channels between the buildings, the Hominids would have only fired small darts at my pod. That way, any darts that missed me would NOT go into the buildings, and depressurize the Hominids working inside their offices. Now that I was over open-ground, the Hominids could fire deadlier darts. I don’t know if I was hit by a dart from a wall-mounted turret, or by the phantom spear-tip that was chasing me. I died. My soul was almost-certainly rescued by the soul-catcher built into my seat. But my soul never made it back to my battleship.
KABOOM! My battleship was destroyed sometime after I took control of my pod. The battle involved three core-ships parked over the Alotian planet. The core-ship I was assigned to was the largest, at four-hundred-kilometers diameter. Two smaller core-ships, about one-hundred kilometers, were on the other side of the planet. Core-ships cannot be blown-up with missiles. They can be slowed, by destroying the momentum-plates installed in the roofs of their buildings, and underneath their landing-pad “tarmacs”. Core-ships can be disabled by nuking their entire surface.
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November 12, 2011 Or, the core of a smaller core-ship can be hurled into the center of the larger coreship, from an extradimensional angle. The impact turns the cores into a HUGEENORMOUS-GIGANTIC nuclear-bomb. The detonation is not as devastating as you might expect from a four-hundredkilometer diameter sphere of plutonium going thermonuclear. Back to the story… The core-ship that I was mapping was extradimensionally impacted by a smaller core. One-eighth of the planet’s surface was lethally irradiated. One-tenth of that area immediately bursts into flames. A billion Alotians might have died. As well as two-point-five billion Hominids on the core-ship. As well as most non-Hominoid military-personnel within four-thousand kilometers of the detonated core-ship… perhaps a half-a-billion people. After the largest core-ship went thermonuclear, one of the smaller one-hundred kilometer core-ships was flung into the planet. The impact would have created a large earthquake, perhaps a tsunami, and left ninety-kilometers of the core-ship exposed on the planet’s surface as a giant monolith. The third core-ship was allowed to escape. At the time of my battleship’s destruction, sixty-percent of my Black-Panther pack had been killed in the core-ship attack. Many of their souls were unrecoverable. Meanwhile, on the ship… The job of a Black-Panther’s Golden-Panther roommate is to keep their roommate alive. While we trained in our pods, our roommates sat in front of flat-screen monitors, and piloted the virtual enemy-ships that attacked us. Or, they secretly acted as our co-pilots, helping us to avoid enemies, stimming us up, etcetera. Once 597 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 in-awhile, they played-piloted their own virtual pods from their flat-panel terminals, without the aid of the pod-simulator’s realism. Enough Black-Panthers had died in the core-ship assault, that the Golden-Panthers whose roommates had died, were being called one-by-one to the medical lounge. There, the Golden-Panther roommates were put to sleep, and their souls were transferred into Black-Panther bodies. “If your roommate dies, you become a Black-Panther. Got it? DON’T – LET – YOUR – ROOMMATE - DIE!”
WHAT REALLY HAPPENED ON MY HOME-PLANET Sally was Janet’s older sister. I was selected by her to be her “co-pilot” because of my good grades, and her sister’s recommendation about my character. In particular, Sally chose me because her sister commented “that I was-not a prat”. Sally didn’t know I would be turned into a Black-Panther until after her decision was finalized. She didn’t like impacting my life that way, but she also knew that I would want to escape from the limited-existence of the outpost-town, where I grew up. Sally didn’t ever expect the two of us to be in combat… Our military was a tiny, low-tech “war-games” military. All we ever did, was participate in war-games. We didn’t have any enemies. And we didn’t want any. When Sally wrote-down my name half a year before I was drafted, the military-post was a cushy one. After half-a-year to a year of duty, I’d get a brand-new GoldenPanther body. I’d be able to return to my home-town if I wished, or travel elsewhere.
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November 12, 2011 A month before I was drafted, Sally learned that the military-post was less-cushy. It involved limited combat alongside other Cat-evolved militaries. What felt like three weeks of space-travel to Sally and I, was nearly half a year. Our section of the battleship was in slow-time, to conserve food and resources. By the time we reached our assigned space, war had erupted.
I didn’t tell my mother that I was going to visit the draft-office that day. When I didn’t show-up at night, she called the police. A search began the next day. It wasn’t until a few days later, that a letter arrived from the military, informing my mother that I had been enlisted immediately. My distraught mother didn’t bother to check her mailbox for another two days.
Some of my high-school friends are in battleships now. I wish them well.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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RACCOON – AWR AWOO by Mike Rozak Copyleft July 2011
This story is UNFINISHED. It is a work in progress.
HISTORY OF THE AWR AWOO Called Al Ari in other stories due to variations in galactic language spoken in “Free people’s” region… and the fact that Raccoon’s cane say the “l” or the “ee” phonemes. 601 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Fifty years ago there was a détente between the Hominids and the “animal” people – mammaloids. Some treaties were signed Hominids stopped arresting and invading most mammaloid planets. Travel became easier. Several “mammaloid” zones, groups of hundreds of galaxies, where mammaloids lived together. These were closely positioned near Hominids and Alotians. Good trade opportunities. Mammaloids did well. Especially those willing to meet with Hominoids… who were always twitch and dangerous to meet with. And dishonest. And slavers of mammaloids. Several mammaloid zones:
Free peoples – Where I came from Xinsing (pronounced Zhin-zeeng) – A more-metropolitan zone than the Free people. Located nearby. Upscale – A less-dense zone, also not far from the Free Peoples. Our land/pasture – Mostly controlled by horse-evolved people. Sand – Aquatic zone, with mostly-ocean planets. Mammaloids living on many of the sandy islands, and some continents. The Collective – Mostly Smilodon-evolved. Less multiracial than the other areas. Near “The Free Peoples”. The Cat/Feline nations – Cat-only (with some canines), not that far away.
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November 12, 2011 “Our land/pasture” was invaded/overrun by the Hominids. They took possession of everyone’s estates. “Sand” was also invaded. The aquatic people had to flee. The mammaloids were allowed to stay. Very-few Hominids stayed in the area, though they used it as a holiday resort area. Enslaved people. Many wealthy people (two-legged and four-legged horses) ran away. They began the “Awr Awoo”, called a different name. It began as a paramilitary organization to retake “Our land/pasture”. Ultimately, retaking the planets was impossible due to the strength of the Hominid Empire. Slowly turned into a slave rescue organization, specializing in run-and-grab rescues. Gained support and contributions from wealthy mammaloids in the region. And Saurians. And wealthy Alotians. And wealthy Simians. Many of the spacecraft were Simian. With some Alotian rescue and monitoring spacecraft. Over twenty years, Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved nations provided moreand-more ships. Two years ago, Awr Awoo improperly blamed for attack on Hominid planet of Lilac. See my short story, “Deaths at Azcruk”, for more details. Awr Awoo leaders and supporters were hunted down, arrested, and tortured by the Hominids. 603 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 To add to that, the emergence of the war made slave rescues impossible. The Hominids began using very-high-tech “radars” that could spot the Awr Awoo ships, as well as much better planetary defenses, and military spacecraft. With slave rescue dampened, Awr Awoo leaders began retooling their mission. And then Hominids invaded, Xinsing, Upscale, Sand, and The Collective. The new mission of the Awr Awoo was immediately obvious. Due to previous treaties, the zones of Xinsing, Upscale, and Sand were prohibited from having militaries. Protection was provided for by the Alotians. Hominid militaries were also illegal in the zone. But they invaded. The Collective was allowed to keep a military for its own defense. Awr Awoo began to turn from a militia into the region’s military.
SISTER My sister graduated from university a year ago. Major in physics. She took a job working for the nation’s merchant navy (BUGBUG – make sure right term) Began by running packages around in small “scooters”, as she called them. Basically, she would sit down on what looked like a motorcycle, and the spaceplane would appear around her.
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November 12, 2011 It wasn’t very large. Her motorcycle pack would hold a few packages, sometimes encrypted “scrolls”. She’d basically press a button and go somewhere. Drop off the package. Pick up another. Deliver that. And eventually end up at a scooter-hostel somewhere. It sounded like a fun job. It hardly needed a physics degree, but physics degrees weren’t too-useful, especially nowadays. I would call her, or she would call me, once a week. That was her beginning job. After three months, she worked up to a solid spaceplane. Basically a flying disc. She could carry larger passengers. They were more difficult to fly, and not nearly as automatic. And she could carry passengers, if she were licensed. She spent another three months working for her passenger license. Like any public transit system, it’s okay if the driver/pilot gets killed, but the passengers aren’t ever allowed to get killed.
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November 12, 2011 Since her passengers would be in the same compartment as her, she wasn’t allowed to get killed either. Mary, my sister, was very determined to get her license. She practiced and travelled quite a bit. Going as far as “Sand”, as well as up into the Alotians. With her scooter, she mostly stuck to “The Free Peoples”. And then, half a year ago, my sister got very weird. She began talking in hushed tones on the telephone… Raccoons speaking in hushed tones are very difficult to understand. She kept asking me if I had watched the news at all. And what was on the news. I hadn’t watched the news, of course. It was boring. So I did. And there wasn’t anything on. “What about the invasion of planet YZW?” she would ask. “Invasion? Are you serious/joking!? I didn’t see anything on the news about that.” Huff. “Just keep your eyes and ears open for that kind of news.” I did, and I heard nothing. What I did hear was that a war might be brewing. My friends and acquaintances talked about it once awhile.
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November 12, 2011 Their parents were more up-to-date on the news, and they would talk to them about the details. And then physical education began training us to run and do other stamina sports, instead of play volleyball. And then the word “military-draft” was mentioned on the news… once only.
HOMEWORK I did my university homework at night, after class, and between classes around lunch-time. The thought of cheating never occurred to me, nor just about anyone else. We had paper books – no multipage E-books. We wrote everything down. We weren’t allowed to use computers because they would solve everything for us. And my computer, just a tablet, couldn’t do much more than show photographs and send E-mails. Calculators weren’t allowed either. And they were pointless. Everything was symbolic. I took a physics class. The 15 homework problems every three days weren’t that difficult. It was mostly recipe-book math. Just look in the book and see how to wind the matrix around, and do the same.
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November 12, 2011 Simplifying-down the estimates was a bit tricky. It was never obvious what terms in the estimates could be discarded, and/or replaced with simplified terms. You needed a calculator for that… and no-one objected. Just try plugging some random numbers into the estimates and see if they produced significant values. Which wasn’t technically the correct way to solve the problems. I had a history class. History didn’t appeal. It was all about what happened when, and why people did things, and what they were thinking at the time. I simply couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. Simplistically, if the history book said, “Jark Lin Woong was happy, so he decided to build a memorial building to Wan Kwoo,”… I couldn’t imagine him being happy. I wasn’t happy at the time, I was studying. I could imagine him studying to build a building. I had never built a building. I had never seen one being built. I had no courses in building building. So I couldn’t imagine a building being built. Now, if this had been filmed and shown on television, I might get that. But then, why did I care that he built a building anyway? My professor didn’t seem to care about the building either. He was Goat-evolved. He mostly cared that the Hominids destroyed the building five years ago. That wasn’t in the book. 608 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “So why not eradicate the building from history also?” I thought. I had a mathematics course that paralleled the physics course. We did basically the same stuff in both, except the mathematics course was a week ahead. And it’s problems didn’t just deal with fields in space. It also had applications to statistics, another course I could have taken but which I didn’t. I also took physical education, like everyone. We played volleyball. No-one would swim. We played Frisbee. And the professor was gradually ramping us up into being able to run a kilometer. The previous term I had taken a cooking course, which wasn’t bad. It didn’t involve matrices. And it provided cheap meals at night. We had a creativity class. It was 10% painting art class. Lots of discussions on how to be creative. Lots of papers being written to create new ideas. And then examples about how the new ideas would work, and how they would fail. It also included some music… drums… as a creativity source. It was taught by an “artsy” Antelope-evolved woman. 609 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It also included poetry. And sculpture. I was looking forward to the assignment in a few weeks when we would begin to play-around on computers and create thee-D models. Every class was attended nearly every day. Except for physical education, which was every-other day. No chemistry… I had taken that last year and started my fur on fire. Next year, I would begin taking one-evening “seminars”… which were like miniclasses on various subjects. They would broaden my education, and help me decide on a major.
SCHOLASTICALLY-UNDERPERFORMING TEENAGERS For Hominids on Earth-Sol, scholastically-underperforming teenagers always have it in the back of their minds that if they don’t do well in school, they won’t get a good job. If they don’t get a good job, they won’t have a nice work environment, won’t be able to buy a nice car, and won’t be able to afford a house. For people in “The Free Peoples”, the concern was different. Scholastically-underperforming teenagers are “merged” together. What that means is that two of you walk into a room. You meet and shake hands. (We have comedy television shows about this.)
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November 12, 2011 You are both gassed into slumber. You both wake up. But both in the same body… like “The Two of Me” movie. (BUGBUG - the two of me) Within a few days you “merge” together and are acting like one person. You simply become one person with two pasts. This means you have two mothers. And two sisters. And you have attended university twice. But seeing as you were obviously scholastically-underperforming and only really attended University half the time you were there, 2 x ½ = 1. So you attended a full course of university. After that, you would get a low-stress job. And raise children, most of whom were embryo-implants from genetically moresuccessful women. No-one wanted to do this. It was seen as a sign of failure. However… With the impending war, this option was unlikely. A more-likely scenario was that you would be drafted into the infantry. Once drafted into the infantry, you would experience military training, lots of boredom, and perhaps some combat. You had a fifty-percent chance of dying, being shot by Hominids or Alotians. (“Alotians” were a theoretical possibility that hasn’t come true.) 611 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 If you die, your soul would be merged in with someone else of similar personality, who also died. You would get a new body, and would have half-a-year off. If the war hadn’t ended by that point, you would be drafted once-again into the infantry, and have a fifty-percent chance of dying.
THE ELECTRONIC BULLETIN BOARD I saw the announcement on one of the “electronic bulletin boards” scattered around campus – basically a large display bolted onto the wall (so it wouldn’t be pilfered). They always listed low-price lunch-specials at different cafeterias And different events, like “raves” (public parties) and weekend trips to other planets. I never had enough money for the weekenders, but I attended quite a few raves. The notice said, “Want to know what the television-news is censoring about the war? Stop by Hergove-Building, room 3245, at 8:00 Tomorrow”. (Electronic bulletin boards don’t need to give dates, since they can display “Today”, “Tomorrow”, “Two days from now”, automatically.) The club was titled the “Awareness club”, as in “News-awareness”. I didn’t watch much news, since it mostly covered local politics, which were quite boring compared to raves. I was interested in the impending war though, since it was likely that I would be drafted and turned into infantry. The news was distinctly quiet about war events. Everyone on campus whispered about them. When I called my sister up, she also talked about the war. 612 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 So I took out my text-messager and photographed the electronic bulletin board. Text-messagers are like your mobile phones, except that they don’t make voice calls. They include a small keypad, a screen, a GPS, a camera, and the ability to play music.
FRIENDS I had four friends, and perhaps ten acquaintances. The difference was that I would walk-up to my friends’ dorm rooms and initiate. (Two of my friends stayed with me in my dorm room.) Acquaintances were friends of friends usually. I saw them enough that I knew who they were, what they were doing, and what their personalities were like. But I wouldn’t text-message them or stop by their dorms. My friends and I would do homework together, in the same room. We weren’t allowed to collaborate on math and physics or history, so we didn’t. We did so on creativity. We went to raves together. We watched television together… sometimes… well, it was in the same room. They didn’t care for the news. We’d sometimes watch porn. We went out to eat together. Campus had four different cafeterias. And different ones that were opened at night… which were more café like. We’d go off-campus by subway once a week.
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November 12, 2011 We’d go shopping… not to actually buy anything. We couldn’t afford anything, and didn’t really want anything. Just to look around and see what was there, and to get away. And we’d eat at the fast-food court in the shopping mall. We took a hike in the forest surrounding our campus, once. We talked about our mothers and sisters. I talked about my sister. My mother had died five years before. We all knew what one-another’s family was doing. Acquaintances, I didn’t know what their family was doing. Nor did I try to remember it. We’d also chip in for furniture items, like a wicker sofa delivered from the mall. We all had a stipend by the way. Some of my friends actually had their own saved money. Parents weren’t allowed to provide them with money while they were at university. University students should be able to survive on a budget.
“AWR AROO”-CLUB I went to the “Awareness club” meeting alone. I didn’t bother talking to any of my friends about it. They weren’t the type to be interested. 614 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was night, after dinner. I think I ate some roast beef… and was feeling sleepy. The room was more of an auditorium. I had never been there. Perhaps fifty students attended. I didn’t recognize any of them immediately. A rabbit-evolved woman walked up to the podium and began speaking. Her language was automatically translated into our Galactic Standard using a speechsynthesizer broadcast throughout the room. (BUGBUG – text to speech) She spent the first half of the talk giving us an overview about what was happening in the war. She showed us our location within “The Free Peoples”. And then another video-slide showed the location of “The Free Peoples” compared to the Hominids and the Alotians. She also marked a region as “Saurian”, though it actually isn’t saurian, it’s Agimadae (BUGBUG – sp). (BUGBUG – Australian dragons) I took a few photos of the slides. Some people were photographing every slide. The next slide showed yellow-lines advancing down from the Alotians into our space… the yellow lines were actually Hominids cohabiting with the Alotians. Alotian yellow-lines travelled from their space into the Agimadae. (BUGBUG – sp) Red lines travelled from the Hominids into the Smilodon zone, not far away. (The Collective) (BUGBUG – Smilodon) Then she showed a map of specific planets in “The Free peoples”. Crap! Yellow planets were essentially occupied by the Hominids. 615 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 There were a few red dots for conflicts. All of our planets had Hominid settlements on them, because we were multiracial. We all knew that. Most of the settlements were distinctly military… a violation of treaty. The yellow dots were everywhere. Why hadn’t our news reported it? We had no news service. News broadcasters were arrested and/or assassinated by the Hominids for broadcasting news they didn’t like. (BUGBUG – assassination of Russian reporter) The Hominids interfered with the transmission of any news they didn’t like… and they could interfere with any news. The rabbit-woman’s job was to bypass this censorship. She then went on to show photographs of Hominid soldiers, their equipment, a few dead Mammaloids, and a list of atrocities they were committing. And then the sell. The woman said she worked for an organization opposing the Hominid occupation. And anyone who didn’t want to remain could leave the room. Hell. We were all raucous university students, especially the Red Pandas. We all stayed. Except a few got up, most-likely because they had to do their homework. I usually didn’t bother with my own homework. The woman began talking about events her organization put on. They gave talks, like this. 616 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They also had weekenders on other planets that were free, or subsidized… That sounded good to me. They were summer-camp like, involving hiking, wilderness survival, and networking sessions. The organization also had larger rallies in the city where they revealed more information, information that the university wouldn’t allow them to reveal. She posted the date, time, and address of a major rally, that would happen in a few weeks. Everyone took a photograph of it. So did I. What about the weekend trips to other planets? Students wishing to sign up for the weekend trips would find the paperwork at the rally… in the city. The woman never said the name of the organization she worked for. Someone later told me that if I had been perceptive enough, I would have seen it spelled one-character at a time, one character per slide.
RAVE School-sponsored party At night In an auditorium No drugs Had something that was somewhat narcotic to drink… gave you a slight “I feel safe/happy” buzz. 617 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That was it. I didn’t go to all of the raves, but I went to most of them. It was a break from my major, which I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was most-likely physics. Being a physics major was the default for people who didn’t know what they wanted to do And it got my sister into flying a spaceplane, which didn’t sound like a bad thing. Walked to the rave, about 1 km away, with one of my friends. Loud techno-pop “music”… more of a beat. Lots of flashing lights. In an auditorium. About 100 people. No dancing. Just chairs. Would pull up a chair and talk to people, all-the-while drinking the buzz drink. Light show on the wall and on us. Sometimes would be sparkling disco lights synced to the music. Other times would actually light-paint something on the wall. Talk centered around class, what the latest homework assignment was, how to solve the differential matrix in 5-space. No-one talked about our history lessons. No-one cared about the 30-years-ago war in “Our land/pasture”. 618 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And then we talked about the idea of a free weekend trip to a planet to do summercamp stuff. There were no boys… the Hominid sterilization war had ensured that we were almost all girls. So sex didn’t come up, not for me at least. I wasn’t oriented that way. And the mild narcotic in the drink was anti-sex anyway. After drinking enough of it, all you wanted to do was go home and stare at the wall for half the night. Which is what I did after the Rave. And the wall colors always seemed a bit faded.
AWR-AWOO RALLY The trip to the rally was by subway. I went with a few acquaintances. We had time to talk to one-another over the weeks in-between. It was expensive, about $50 for the two-way trip, plus the cost of a meal in the subway. The subway was a bus-ride away, costing $10. Once underground, the four of us typed in our destination and ordered a communal subway “tube”. They looked like sleek grey tubes, rounded on the front an back. One arrived for us, and the computer-announcer called us forward. A gull-wing door on the top-half of the tube opened-up. We descended into our own private car. 619 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The door close, and we took off. The ride would take about an hour. During that time we talked about schoolwork, mostly. Events that would be happening. When the next “rave” was. Who had the best curly fries. I asked an older girl what I should expect from next-year’s classes. The hour passed quickly. We arrived, and the door opened up. We got out, and into another underground subway station. There we found some food. I had a hot-dog for $7.50. It was merely subway food – as good as I expected. To get to the rally auditorium, all we had to do was follow a very-long corridor off the subway, and enter a huge underground warehouse. Or perhaps it was a spaceplane landing bay. 100 m x 100m x 30m. Drinks and cookies were available at the entry. We took some. I didn’t eat as many as I’d like because the hot-dog was upsetting my stomach already. There were no seats. At the far end were two huge displays with showing a blue-to-black “horizon” fade. We were some of the first to arrive. We took our Tang-like-drinks and cookies to near the front and sat down. (BUGBUG – tang) 620 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We waiting for three-quarters of an hour, before no-one else showed up. Someone came up to us and asked why we were here. We said we were there for the rally. “Oh, that has been cancelled.” What? We wasted $50 to get here and it was cancelled. “Don’t worry. We have another event that you might like.” We came for this. “Just follow me. I think you’ll like it.” We were lead out a side door in the rally room, and down another very-long corridor. If we had any money, we’d worry that we were going to be mugged. At the end of the corridor, the woman led us through a door, and into an equallylarge auditorium. This one was filled with thousands of people standing and listening to a two-legged horse-evolved woman speak. Text-to-speech translators were blaring. The night suddenly got very surreal. We were falsely led to a fake rally. Once we were investigated, they must have gotten our IDs from body scans, we were shown to the real event, which was already going on. People walking down the first corridor were almost-certainly scanned. Anyone who passed the scan would have had someone step in front of them and shunt them off to the real rally room. I was so excited figuring out the cloak-and-dagger stuff that I didn’t listen to the talk much. 621 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Basically, it was a pep rally. The woman was talking about the Hominid injustices, and how we would crush them. She then showed a more-detailed graph of where the Hominids were in our “The Free Peoples”. And their troop movements. And their expected movements. No-one was taking photos with their cameras, so we didn’t either. We got the hint. She began posting requirements for the “Awr Awoo”… she actually mentioned the name here. We had heard the name on television. Shit, what had we gotten into? It was certainly interesting though. Fighter spaceplane numbers were mentioned. They were looking to recruit pilots. Cool! And they were looking for co-pilots and helpers… more likely. And they had infantry training camps all-over. Some suit training camps, but you had to attend quite a few infantry training-camps before you got suit training. (Suits were “Encounter suits”, kind of a combination of a scuba dry-suit, battle-armor, and an invisibility suit.) University and high-school students could attend summer-camps were they learned outdoor survival skills, networked, roade dirt-bikes, and fired a few BB-guns. Dirtbikes, cool! (BUGBUG – BB-gun) A goat-evolved woman got up and gave a speech about the political situations. 622 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Mammaloid leadership was hampered by the Hominids and treaties. Mostly by the Hominids. Many of them had just disappeared. A photograph of a battered woman on a dusty planet was shown. “Recognizer her? She was the backup prime-minister to planet XYZ. This is a photograph of her, smuggled out off a Hominid planet. She is still a prisoner, and treated as a slave.” The photographs continued. In fact, the talks continued all night. We eventually got tired and decided to leave. We made our way to the back of the hall, where we found a doorway out. All of the cookies were gone, but there were some cups of Tang-like-drink left. From here, we walked down a lot of very-long corridors to the subway, and ordered a subway-tube back to university.
We forgot to sign up for the weekend summer-camp trips. As I found out later, there was a sign-up sheet by the cookies. We missed that. If we had signed-up for the summer-camp weekend, we would have been told that the rally had been cancelled, and escorted back to the subway. We would have been given a free ride back to university, without having attended the real rally. The trip all the way to the fake rally was a test to see how eager we were. Since we waited three-quarters of an hour, we were noted as being especially eager. 623 | P a g e
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A WEEK LATER – ROUNDED-UP FROM UNIVERSITY BUGBUG – more detail Hominids on all of the planets. A small population allowed there by treaty. I didn’t know where they were on my planet. Went into school one day Noticed the Hominids in panel-vans parked near the centre of the main walkway of the University Everyone passed They were in military They had never been allowed at university before. But then again, we knew they were invading us. Walked past them. Went into class. Physics. About 20 people. Knock on door twenty minutes into lecture. Two Hominids, with guns. 624 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They interrupted the teacher, and approached. He looked worried. They handed a sheet to him. He did nothing. We all sat and watched. Then the Hominids pulled out a scanner. Scanned the room. Two men from outside came in and walked up to my desk. They aggressively grabbed me by my shoulder and arm. I said nothing. They basically lifted me up. Meanwhile, another girl was also grabbed. Fox-evolved I think. We were pushed outside the classroom. My hands were forced behind my back. Handcuffs were put on me. I asked in my best Alotian, which they might know, why I was being arrested. I got a rifle-butt in the back of my head. The Fox woman said nothing after that. We were led out the back, and to the next building. There we were loaded in an armored vehicle. 625 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Several other students were there. Some with blood on their mouths and missing teeth, and swollen eyes. We were driven in silence to a spaceplane. Small cargo spaceplane, about 50 meters x 50 meters x 15 meters of cargo space. We were all chained-up to a run along the wall. Couldn’t sit down. Arms behind back. After an hour the doors were closed. Felt physics-laws “pressurization” change. I awoke later. I had fallen unconscious. My arms, behind me and pinned to the wall, held me upright. They ached. I wasn’t able to fall on the floor. Many people were still on the floor. Lots of many-woman guards walked in and unchained us. They led us out into a large underground landing pad. Hundreds of meters across. Concrete. Led through some doors. 626 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Very efficiently. I was lead into a small room with about three other people. And lots of Hominid guards… not people. They cut off my clothes with scissors. Did a body-scan to see if I had any hidden weapons in naked places. They had an automatic tattoo machine, and tattooed a number on my shoulder and the back of my neck. Didn’t trouble me too-much since my fur grew over it. From a pile of clothes, on man-woman selected an orange jumpsuit and tossed it over my shoulder. I couldn’t put it on with my handcuffs. They certainly weren’t going to put it on for me. We were all led naked through a corridor. Filled with him, who were intentionally forced to stand right-up to their bars and watch us walk past naked. The men were all wearing orange. Obviously some sort of psychological torture which affected Hominids… didn’t do too much to us. Neither did the tattoos. Again, that torture/mark was designed to affect Hominids. Led to the right, and into a large service elevator. Taken a long ways down. And then into a long corridor. Where put into a prison cell. 627 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Some Simian guards eventually came and helped me put my orange jumper on. They were clearly dismayed. I didn’t give them any trouble. For a few weeks, were released every day for some recreation. Still had chains on. Common cafeteria. Visit toilets. Even some whispering to ourselves. Didn’t last long. Eventually, we were all isolated into solitary confinement.
HOMINID PRISON Locked in cell Guards than ran prison were Simian In the Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk) galaxy Underground. Wore orange jumpsuit without tail hole. Arms permanently manacled in front. Chained to wall Slept on concrete box that acted as a bed. Toilet break once a day. 628 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Simians would enter and put a bag on head. Lead out down random hallways. Told to spread legs. Told to urinate and defecate. Fed a meal… starvation diet. Water (and food) were drugged. Led back into cell. Simians never spoke. If tried to speak got whacked.
Lawyer? Seeing a judge? Jury? Trial? Nothing like that. Led into a 5m x 5m concrete underground room with a desk. Red-headed Hominid woman and some simian guards. A month after arrived, handed a piece of paper. Written in a Hominid language. Similar to an Alotian language I knew. It was either an explanation for why I was detained, or a sentence, or something else, no-one explained. “What is this?” No-one talked to me, or explained anything. A red-headed woman was in the room. 629 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She pulled the paper out of an accordion folder, double-checked my name, and handed it to a simian guard, who opened it and handed it to me. Fucking Hominids. One year.
A TRIP THROUGH A SUN’S CORONA Didn’t get fed for a few days. Unusual. Didn’t quite get hot. Too far underground. Just got irradiated. And woozy – woozy in the soul Died. Hominid planet was plunged through the corona of a star One of the major “justice” planets Maybe even had courts on it. At least a few billion Hominids died. Perhaps as many at 14 billion.
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The Awr Awoo remember. The Hominids only have databases for their memory. (It’s more of a Haiku in Galactic Standard.)
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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RED-PANDA NANNY by some Alotians and some Red-Pandas and Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
Me, a Red-Panda (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_panda)
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“TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES” We stood hiding behind some thick, shrubby bushes. Choochoon peaked over the leaves to spy on the two picnic tables on the other side. No-one sat at the tables. The previous family that had used the picnic tables, about half an hour before, didn’t meet our requirements. They were a husband and wife. They didn’t look all that wealthy. And their two children were very young; one was a toddler, while the second an infant. “Do you want to live in a house with a toddler and an infant? They’ll be pulling on your ears and tail all of the time,” commented Choochoon. “No,” I answered, still irate at Choochoon. She HAD told me that we were going to be camping-out for a week, not this. “Let them finish breakfast, and we’ll wait for the next family.” The couple finished eating their egg-and-croissant sandwiches. They seemed to rush their meal; their infant was getting cranky.
Half-an-hour later: Choochoon peeked over the bushes to watch as an old station-wagon drove up. I also looked. The station-wagon parked. A business-looking husband and his wife got out of the front seats. Two children opened the passenger car-doors. One was just-about a teenager, and the other was half her age. The father unpacked a blue esky (cooler) from the family station-wagon, and hauled it to a picnic table. He unloaded the food onto the table, some cellophane-wrapped 633 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 sandwiches on rolls, and potato salad. The mother pulled four fruit-coloured drinkbottles out of the esky. “We’ll wait until they’ve eaten a bit,” whispered Choochoon. I was still wary and uncertain about Choochoon’s holiday plan. I crooked my head and pulled my left-lip back. “You’re really going to go through with this?” I whispered. Choochoon nodded her head with a smile, “You bet.” She had done a brief stint as a nanny on another Alotian planet two years before. This was my first time.
Alotian husband
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Choochoon waited for the right moment. Her tongue stuck-out between her lips in anticipation, off-centre and to the left. She rocked her body back-and-forth, getting ready to pounce. Her eyes sparkled. “Okay, it’s time. Let’s go,” whispered a concentrating Choochoon. Her eyes narrowed, ready for the hunt. She turned to me, and whispered flatly. “Take off your clothes.” “What? Now?” Eyes wide-open and nod, “Yes.” I peeked over the bushes, and nervously looked back at Choochoon. “But I’ll be naked!” I whispered less-quietly. Another nod with raised eyebrows, “Yes.” “But...” “That’s the best way to get the job. Page 136 of the guide!” “But there are children there!” exclamation-whisper. “Don’t worry. It won’t phase them,” whispered-stated Choochoon, the expert. I stalled. “What do I do with my clothes?” I asked. “Just leave them here.” By this time, Choochoon was disrobing. “Won’t someone take them?” 635 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Choochoon pouted her lip on non-concern. “It won’t matter. You’ll get new clothes.” I capitulated with a head-tilt right, and a sly “smile”. She was in the lead; I was going to follow her plan. I pulled my shirt off. Choochoon was now baby-skinned. She took another peek, her concentrationtongue sticking out. She turned to me. “Okay. Here’s the plan. I’ll enter the scene from here. You,” Choochoon pointed circular-wise with her hand and finger, “head around there.” My pants dropped. I stepped out of my shoes. “Remember,” whispered Choochoon. “You have-to behave like a wild Red-Panda for this to work. Follow my lead... but from the other side. We don’t want to look like we’re working together.” With that, Choochoon grunted animal-like, stooped-low to make herself appear stockier and shorter, and rumbled through the bushes. “Fuck!” I whispered to myself. Time to walk around to the other side. I began tiptoeing. Crap. The twigs here were prickly. All of my attention was directed to avoiding the spiky pine-twigs on the forest ground. Ouch! And the small pinecones, also. It took me a good five minutes to tiptoe myself around to the other side. I didn’t get to observe Choochoon’s performance at all. Crap, I thought, as I walked behind the bushes to an entryway opposite Choochoon. I was naked on a foreign planet, and I would soon be exposing myself in front of children who I might be a nanny for! 636 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Photo-click. AND THEY HAVE CAMERAS! I looked towards the camera-click, coming from the picnic-table area. Choochoon and the family were hidden from view by the thick bushes. The Alotians couldn’t have photographed me, I realized with relief. Two-thirds through of the way through my travel-arc, I reached the edge of the bushes. Myself and my nakedness were no-longer hidden by shrubbery. I glanced at the activity. The family was paying attention to Choochoon, who was performing rolling summersaults on the ground. I crept around further, using the parked station-wagon as cover. The automobile was a bit beaten-up. I felt like I was in a Lemur cop-show. Photo-click. Someone took another photograph... hopefully of Choochoon, and not me. I checked my visibility. All but my feet were obscured by the station-wagon. I reached the font of the station-wagon. The bumper was dented on my side. I peeked above the bonnet to see what was happening. The Alotian family stood in a line, two children, and mother and father. Beyond them, Choochoon frolicked around. What was she doing that they found so interesting? I had only-ever seen one documentary on wild Red-Pandas. And I hadn’t even seen much of that; I was doing calculus homework at the time. Choochoon’s “wild” Red-Panda antics were obscured behind the family. I needed to learn from her moves.
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November 12, 2011 To see through the gap that existed between the children and the parents, I crept past the station-wagon’s front-engine. My view of Choochoon improved. She seemed to be eating a slice of ham that the family had thrown to her. Choochoon was still mostly-obscured. A large camera that the teenage girl held in her hand blocked my view. I stood-up straight to get a better look at Choochoon’s technique. “There’s another-one!” exclaimed the teenage-girl as she whirled around. Photo-click.
Shit! My eyes opened wide. The girl took a full-frontal nudity-shot of me! What would my university buddies say when they got a-hold of that photo? No time to think about that! 638 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Suddenly, all eyes were on me. Choochoon sat behind my Alotian audience, finishing up her ham-slice. My mouth opened-wide, eyes even wider. Stage-fright. What should I do?
I looked around for something to play with. I slapped the station-wagon’s bonnet a quick double-slap. I looked at the Alotians. Stage-fright. This wasn’t working. Mouth still opened, my eyes rolled-up in nervousness. Think. Think quickly. On the ground! I crouched onto the ground, and rolled to my right. Whack! My foot hit the underside of the auto’s engine. Ouch! No time to hold my foot to soothe the pain. I did a few more rolls. 639 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The prickly pine-twigs and bumpy pine-cones were forgotten. What was I supposed to do now? More stage-fright. Find something to play with. I remembered that-much from the wild Red-Panda documentary. I rolled into a kneeling position. I grabbed a pinecone and began examining it. I sat down, cross-legged with the pinecone in hand. I had seen wild Red-Pandas do that on television. I began mouthing the pinecone. What else did wild Red-Pandas do? Think! “She’s hungry also,” sympathized the teenage Alotian-girl. “Quick mom, throw her some food!” The parents were ready. The Alotian mother frisbeed me a ham-slice, right into my lap. What would a wild Red-Panda do? I picked-up the slice of ham, pretended to sniff it, and nibbled. I pretended to analyse it for flavour. It wasn’t bad, actually. And then I slowly chomped it down while I thought of another antic. The parents chuckled. Photo-click of me. 640 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The teenage-girl turned-around to get another snapshot of Choochoon. With eyes returning to Choochoon, how would I now steal-back the limelight from Choochoon? Did I really want to? No, not really. At least, not yet. I needed to analyse her techniques. And even then, I felt silly sitting naked on the ground pretending to be a wild ancestor. Choochoon was cleaning pine-twigs off the ground, in a curved arc. I didn’t know that wild Red-Pandas drew on the ground with their flattened hand. “Can we keep him?” asked the teenage girl, who was looking at Choochoon. Her father was astute. “I don’t know. Maybe we should think about this first.” He continued. “It’s a big decision. What about that other one over there?” He pointed at me. My jaw opened in shock, left-and-right sides opened wide. Eyes wide-open. Crap! They were looking at me again! I had to figure-out something-else to do. What else do wild Red-Pandas do? I couldn’t steal Choochoon’s trick of drawing on the ground. I licked my nose! That should do it. The lick occupied four seconds. What next? 641 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I rolled to the right, with the plan of ending-up in a sitting position. My limited acrobatics failed me. My roll finished with me on my knees, looking away from the family. Hopefully the girl didn’t photograph a bending-over butt-shot. The last time someone caught me in that pose, my butt-photo was pinned to the dorm-corkboard for months... even when I managed to take-off and tear-up nine copies of the photo. No photo-click yet. I had only seconds to change my pose. Quick action! Think! I spun around on my right foot, and into a sitting position. All those weeks of cheerleading weren’t completely useless. I had dropped “Cheerleading” as soon as I realized that I never-ever-ever wanted to do cheerleading. By the time I had spun around, the girls’ attentions had returned to Choochoon. The Alotian husband gave me a look, and a left-right nod to say... “No, I don’t think you made the cut.” He tossed me some more ham. I sat and ate. A few minutes later mother asked, “So have you decided yet girls? Which one do you want?” “I want him,” said the teenage girl, pointing at Choochoon. The youngest-one only squealed. Mother, “Okay then, let’s corral her into the car.”
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November 12, 2011 Father added, “I’ll start packing up. Maybe we can lure her into our car with some food.”
....
Fifteen minutes later, I had slunk back behind the bushes. Choochoon tongue-curled goodbye to me from the back of the station-wagon as she was driven away. The family had left me a plastic-bag full of sandwich buns to munch on.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. The station-wagon stopped half-a-kilometre down the park road. “Just a minute, dear,” said the husband. He hopped out of the car, and set the time-plank for Picnic Table #47 to “11:00 – 12:00 reserved”. It was only 9:30. The Alotian man pulled out his mobile-phone, and dialled a number. “Hello, Frank.” Blah blah blah, from the phone. “Picnic table forty-seven. You’re already reserved. The one we got came highly recommended. Her friend also should be good.” The Alotian man hopped back into the car. The station-wagon drove off.
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November 12, 2011
THE NIGHT BEFORE Hooh parked the spaceplane. “Are you guys all ready?” asked the Deer-evolved woman. “Yeah, we’re getting there,” telepathically-grumbled Choochoon. Choochoon turned to me and spoke, “What do you have on you Wen?” I checked myself over. “A flashlight, GPS, and a backpack with spare clothes.” Choochoon finger-pointed at Hooh, kind-of a wink. “Put the GPS and backpack down for now,” Choochoon requested. “Um. I want to check through them.” A buddy sanity-check of camping-gear was always handy. I pulled-off my backpack and lay it on the ground in front of Choochoon. She bent over to scrounge through my gear, her heavy backpack nearly toppling her. “Crap! I have too-much gear on me. I can’t even bend over to double-check through your bag. ” Choochoon pulled off her hat, her backpack, and even her shoes. She then opened my backpack, and rummaged through it. “Hurry up guys! The Alotians will detect us soon.” Came Hooh’s telepathic warning. “We’re getting there,” yelled Choochoon. It was getting louder near the exit door. Choochoon rummaged through my pack some more.
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November 12, 2011 “Shit!” That was Hooh. “We’ve been spotted!” She was a terrible liar, but I didn’t notice her lie at the time. “I’m opening the door now. You have ten seconds to get out.” Choochoon, who was a much-better liar/deceiver, “Fuck! There’s the door! Let’s go Wen!” I was so excited and rushed that I nearly leapt out of the spaceplane door without my pack. “Crap. I almost forgot my bag!” “Don’t bother with it. No time! Hooh will drop them off later.” Choochoon was behind me. As she also ran for the door, Choochoon pushed me out. The spaceplane’s door had materialized about 30 centimetres above the ground. As we plunged into the dark, both of us stumbled onto the forest ground. The spaceplane’s light dimmed, and then disappeared. It had departed. It was dark. “Where’s your flashlight?” inquired Choochoon. “I set it down in the spaceplane.” “Crap. We’ll have to wait until sunrise then,” said Choochoon as her silhouette stood up. “It’s only a few hours away.” “Did you manage to bring your pack?” I asked. “No. No time.” Choochoon was lying. She continued, “Don’t worry. We’re right next to a picnic ground. There’s a water bubbler, and if we really need help, some Alotians will be by. Sure we’re here illegally, but they won’t mind.”
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MY OWN “CAPTURE” WAITING FOR ANOTHER ALOTIAN FAMILY By sunrise, Choochoon had explained her plan to me. She had arranged a surpriseHoliday for me. We were supposed to be here for a short hike, but we were actually going to get a play-job. She had explained her plan to me VERY quickly. I didn’t fully-understand all of the small details, mostly because I mostly-thought she was joking about the far-fetched scheme. Now, I was abandoned by her. Her “wild” Red-Panda antics had gotten her a ride with total strangers. I was left alone on a strange planet, with only fragments of her plan floating around my mind. I had no mobile phone. I had no money. I had no friend... for the moment. I was only temporarily pissed-off at her. And I was naked! I tiptoed my way back to where we were hiding. Out clothes were still there. No-one had taken them. Fuck! What was I going to do? I was stuck all-alone in the wilderness, on a foreign planet, without the rascal that got me into this.
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November 12, 2011 We were supposedly going on a weeklong hike in our native country. Alotians now lived there. The allure of hiding from (friendly) Alotians, who wouldn’t have done anything whatsoever to us, only added to the excitement. It was going to be a week of easy camping. No tents were needed because there were no bugs, and it wouldn’t rain. We didn’t take much food because Alotian fast-food restaurants were evenly distributed along our planned-path, and/or our path was selected to evenlydistribute Alotian fast-food restaurants. Alotians prefer to live on Alotian-only planets, without any other races around. Legally we shouldn’t be here. But if we happened to wander into an Alotian fast-food restaurant with some money, they’d feed us and not mention anything to anyone. I didn’t even have my money! I left $400 of my money behind on the spaceplane. It was safely stored in my backpack. Having only $4500 left in my university bank-account, that was a sizable chunk of money for me. This was supposed to be a cheap holiday. 8 days, times $10.89 a day for an Alotian Value Meal #3 ... #5, plus $5.00 a day for snacks, and I’d only spend $128.00 for the trip. Add the $20.00 that Hooh charged me for the flight, and I was going to have a very-inexpensive holiday. Fuck! This trip was all Choochoon’s idea. It was a post-graduation trip for me, at Choochoon’s suggestion. I had just completed my “Social Engineering” bachelor’s degree, which is the equivalent to “Basket Weaving 101” on Earth-Sol. I had a half-a-year break before I would resume my higher education. I still had four-more years before I could get a decent job. Crap!
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November 12, 2011 “Let’s just go for a week-long hike in the wilderness!” Choochoon broached the subject a few months ago. “I did the same thing on a different Alotian planet a few years ago. Alotians are friendly people. They have good food. And their children are lots of fun,” she had said. I didn’t clue in on the “And their children are lots of fun,” addendum until just now. “Yeah, well, fuck you,” I non-angrily grumbled to a virtual Choochoon, as I fumbled through our pile of clothes. I began putting my clothes on. When she first told me her plan this morning, I was sure it was a joke. Even when I was exposing myself near the station-wagon, I one-quarter believed she was pulling a prank on me. “We’re here to get a play-job,” she had told me in the dark. “Alotian laws prevent non-Alotians from being hired. So we have to pretend to be wild Red-Pandas first.” Seriously, doesn’t that sound like a sorority initiation-prank to you? “They’re all in on the gig. Well, most of them usually are.” “Just be careful. Some of them actually think we’re wild Red-Pandas, so we sometimes have to play-along for awhile, and break it to the parents slowly.”
THE SEDAN I had just put my clothes on. 648 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What was I going to do? Hopefully, the Deer would come back to pick me up. But why would she do that? Oh yes, she had to drop our bags off. I widened my eyes. But if Choochoon had her in on the prank... I hoped it was a prank... then the Deer wouldn’t pick me up, would she? And if it weren’t a prank? What if Choochoon was actually serious about being a nanny to Alotian children? How many hours or days should I wait to get picked up? I had the plastic-bag of bread rolls with me. The water bubbler wasn’t far away. Shit. I didn’t even remember where the nearest hamburger place was. Choochoon had shown me on the map, but I had all-of-about ten seconds of attention directed that way while I was putting-on my shoes. And I didn’t even have any money. Maybe the burger restaurant was our meeting place? A car drove up. Crap! What was I going to do? The car was a dark-green sedan. It wasn’t the same car. Choochoon had left in a station-wagon. 649 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Maybe she hadn’t pranked me. I stood behind the bushes and watched. A husband and wife opened the car-doors from either side. They didn’t look like the same people either. A pre-teen girl opened her door and got out. She was younger than the other girl. The mother opened the other door, and released a boy, just-older than a toddler. The husband opened the boot of his car, and pulled out a blue esky. The blue eskies matched. He hauled the heavy container to the table and began unpacking. The boy rubbed his eyes as he child-wobbled to the tables, perhaps tired. What was I going to do? Should I mimic Choochoon’s actions? Was that what I needed to do to get out of this situation? I hoped this was a prank. I was going to KILL her. Fuck. I didn’t want to act like a fool again. I was too embarrassed the first time. I’d stutter all-over with my second attempt. And I didn’t want to get naked again. If I were caught in a prank, Choochoon already had one high-value snapshot of me. But how could Choochoon arrange a prank that included three arbitrary Alotian families? I could believe the Deer was in on the prank, but not three Alotian families. I decided to watch the family and think about things. The father unpacked meat slices, mayonnaise, and a clear-bag of bread rolls. The mother made sandwiches, and the father handed them out to the children. 650 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Meanwhile, he was looking-about. Crap! Duck down! He might have spotted me. Shit! Could they really be in on the joke? What if this were a joke? What if it weren’t? According to the prank hypothesis, if I were to go out and play Red-Panda, I’d have to pull-off my clothes. I’d embarrass myself again. Choochoon would get another photograph. If I wasn’t embroiled in a prank, I’d need to be naked to pretend to be a “wild” RedPanda. That last statement only kind-of made sense. Perhaps the Alotians were real, but Choochoon’s “you need to pretend to be a wild Red-Panda to get a job” was the prank? But if that were the case, then her nakedness seemed to have gotten her a nannyjob. Fuck! What if I didn’t take off my clothes? They’d look at me. I might be fed. 651 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Then what? Then they’d go away and leave me. They wouldn’t report me to the police. Then the Deer would pick me up later. Hopefully. But she would only pick me up if this were a prank! What if this weren’t a prank? What if the Deer didn’t pick me up? I could wait-out this family and think about it. Another family would eventually stop by. I could watch families come-and-go for several days, surviving on the bread-rolls I already had. If the Deer didn’t return after three days, I could still pretend to be a wild Red-Panda. Or, I might be able to get a job at the nearby fast-food restaurant, wherever that was. At the very least, the restaurant employees could call the police and get me deported home. Now, back to the hypothesis that this wasn’t a prank. If I stumbled out of the bushes naked and successfully pretended to be a wild RedPanda, and if the Alotian family was looking for a nanny-pet, or they were just looking for a clever-pet and mistook me for a wild Red-Panda, then I would be driven to some stranger’s house. Shit. With Choochoon’s perhaps-a-prank explanation before sunrise, I half-thought that both Choochoon and I would end-up in the same house together. Why would she involve me in a plan that would leave me all-alone on a strange planet? My confidence was failing.
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November 12, 2011 I peeked over the bushes to watch the family. They were already eating their sandwiches. The boy had mostly-discarded his on the ground. The husband glanced about. Before the children, or wife, or husband had finished their sandwiches, the husband announced, “I’m going to pull out the cake now. What do you think? This is supposed to be a fun day? Eh, kids?” The girl’s sandwich went down immediately. The boy’s was already on the ground. And the mother looked perplexed. From the bottom of the esky, the husband pulled-out a clear-plastic encased chocolate-cake. He placed it on the table with flourish, briefly glancing my way. After removing the hard-plastic top, he cut the cake with a clear-plastic cake-trianglespatula. That-too came from the esky. The husband dished-out the chocolate cake onto several styrofoam tea-plates, and handed them out with a fork-each. Everyone dug in, except the mother, who was looking very perplexed. I continued to watch. After eating half his cake, the husband told his wife, “I drank too much water. I have to go behind the bushes. I’ll be right back.” I hadn’t noticed that they hadn’t actually drunk any water. The man walked to my right, and was obscured by the bushes.
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO GET HIRED AS A WILD RED-PANDA I watched the mother and children eat their cake. From behind me came some rustling. I automatically glanced back. The Alotian husband was ten meters behind me, watching me watch his family. He motioned for me to come over with his finger, and then twitched his head left to indicate a clandestine meeting. I looked at him, and then “eyed” him to ask if he wanted to talk to me. Was I in trouble? Was he going to call the police? He motioned with his hand again. If I were in trouble, I couldn’t run. The safest option for me was to be caught without causing a problem. I ambled up to the man. “Do you understand my language?” he whispered, as he crouched-down to me eyelevel. “Yes,” I answered in a highly-accented Alotian. “Here’s the deal. I promised my two children a clever-pet.” He continued, “Are you here for the pet job?” Surprise hit my face... an open jaw, with open-wide sides of my mouth. Maybe Choochoon was serious.
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November 12, 2011 “Yes,” I said. My eyebrows raised, and I nodded. What else could I say? (My voice sounded like an Alotian with a hoarse throat from a very-bad cold, perhaps half-anoctave lower.) I could have said “No,” but that answer didn’t occur to me at the time. “Good. Here’s the deal.” “All you have to do, is take off your clothes.” A shocked expression came to my face. “Not in front of me though.” “Just head over to the bushes...” “Wait... let me explain the full scenario...” he added professionally before I had a chance to mess it up. “You hide behind the bushes.” “Two, I head back to my family.” “Three, you take-off your clothes and pop out.” “I’ll get the kids interested.” He thought a moment. “You have to get into the boot of the car, unfortunately. We can’t let you ride in the back with our kids.” “We’ll lure you into the boot with some cake.” “By the way, my wife doesn’t know you’re not a wild Red-Panda.” “And my kids don’t know either.” He returned to the plan. “You climb into the boot. I’ll close it on you.” 655 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He did some more on-the-fly planning. “I’ll also put the cake in the boot.” The husband looked-up and thought. “It’s about a twenty minute ride.” “When we get home, pretend to be an animal for a few days.” The man counted on his fingers, double-checking his impromptu list. “Got it?” My face expressed a somewhat-puzzled look. “Yeah,” I answered, and Pandanodded. “Good! See you in ten minutes.” The Alotian looked at his watch.
ACTING Six minutes later, the husband returned to his family. I watched from behind the bushes. “How is the cake, children?” he asked. “Great daddy,” said the boy, who had frosting smeared all-over his lips. The husband looked in my direction to give me a cue. He hadn’t told me he was going to cue me. I pulled-off my clothes. I hoped this worked. 656 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I hoped this wasn’t a graduation prank. Fuck, I was going to be embarrassed. Two minutes later I was naked. Idea! I broke-off a leafy branch, and held it in my right hand. To look more animal-like, I hunched down as I ambled through the bushes, the leafybranch hiding my private. From what I could see, neither of the children had a camera. The mother saw me and exclaimed, “How cute! Where’s the camera?” Shit. “Damn,” responded the father, honestly. “I forgot to bring it.” At least there were no cameras. And now, all I had to do was the embarrassing animal role-playing...
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CAR-RIDE HOME Ten minutes later, I was in the boot of the car. My leafy branch had protected me all of the way. The husband closed the boot gently. Inside was a blanket. And a dog collar, which I didn’t notice. And half the cake.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. The sedan stopped half-a-kilometre down the park road. “Just a minute, dear,” said the husband. He hopped out of the car, and removed the time-plank for Picnic Table #47. It was only 10:45. The Alotian man pulled out his mobile-phone, and dialled a number. “Hello, Bill.” Blah blah blah, from the phone. “Okay, I’ll wait.” A moment of silence. Blah blah blah. “Got her. She’s a bit dense.” Blah blah blah. “No, there aren’t any-more. Sorry. You’ll have to wait for the next drop.” The Alotian man hopped back into the car. The sedan drove off.
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November 12, 2011
PLAYING A WILD (BUT FRIENDLY) ANIMAL SNUCK INTO THE HOUSE Locked into the pitch-black boot of the sedan, I made an effort to monitor which way the car turned. The automobile meandered down a curvy road. It stopped for a few minutes. The engine noise, underneath me, obscured some speech. The car resumed its trip. It then turned right, and followed another winding road. Then we turned and accelerated, most-likely onto a freeway. After ten minutes, the car made several left-and-right turns. It stopped. Would I be let out now? The car started-up again. We may have hit a stop-light. There were more turns. We stopped. The engine shut off. During the twenty-minute car-ride, I decided to ditch the leafy branch, and instead carry the blanket with me. It would provide nudity coverage.
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November 12, 2011 The boot opened. The children were there, staring at me, as I lay curled up in a foetal position. The mother was holding the youngest child. They all smiled at me. Luckily, I had the blanket over my private. The husband, who had opened the boot’s lid, grabbed the blanket. I held onto it. He hadn’t seen I was holding onto the blanket. He tugged even harder, perhaps thinking I was lying on the blanket. His strength won-out. “Ready Sarah? We’ll corral her into the house with the blanket.” Father handed one corner of the blanket to his pre-teen daughter, and grasped the other corner himself. “Ready?” he asked his daughter again. She nodded, too-excited to speak. “We don’t want the Red-Panda running off. We might never see her again if she gets spooked.” Some worry on Sarah’s face. Father didn’t think about luring me out of the boot using food. Nor did I. The blanket was lure-enough, since it was the only clothing I had. Would I be taken-back to the picnic tables to pick up my clothes? Father-and-daughter backed-up with the blanket. 660 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I acted as animal-like as I could, and cautiously climbed out of the trunk. I strategically climbed out tail-butt first. The father may-also have wanted the blanket to keep their neighbours from seeing me. He might not want his neighbours to know that I was living in their house. Rescuing wild Red-Pandas from the wild most-likely wasn’t-exactly legal, but apparently it wasn’t illegal either. Choochoon had implied that it was a tacitlyagreed-to “pet rental-plan”. “Okay, Sarah, let’s heard her this way!” Sarah pushed me lightly, the blanket between her and me. I had to play the part. I crouched down, arms wide, intentionally and unintentionally acting somewhatconfused as I was blanket-corralled through the doorway. The mother held the wooden kitchen-door open. The boy was somewhere else. The companion flyscreen-door, being on springs, had closed itself. My hand went to open the flyscreen-door, but I quickly stopped myself. Wild animals don’t open doors. There was an awkward moment. The door needed opening. Mother was going to step-out from behind her thick wooden-door, and open the flyscreen-door for me. She hesitated, and clearly didn’t feel that standing in-front of a cornered wild-RedPanda was safe. Unprompted, Sarah reached her arm across my “danger zone”, grabbed the doorhandle, and opened the screen door. I crept through the doorway, into the kitchen.
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MY BEDROOM “What do we do with her?” asked Sarah, once they and I were in the kitchen. Father thought for a moment. “Let’s corral her into her bedroom. She can acclimatize there.” “Can I have her in my room?” asked Sarah excitedly. Mother’s jaw dropped. Father thought a moment. “No, let’s put her in the guest bedroom. Pandas smell.” Sarah’s happy-high deflated. Playing the part of “wild Red-Panda corralled into a bedroom” was easy... except for exposing myself in front of the boy. I was nudged from the kitchen into the livingroom, where the young boy watched me wide-eyed. Oops. From there, I was herded into a hallway. Since my bedroom door wasn’t open, I was corralled against the door. Father reached across the blanket-barrier, and twisted the doorknob to open the door. I meandered into the room. Both father and daughter watched from the doorway, holding the blanket half-height to prevent me from running out. Mother also stopped-by for a peek. I pretended to sniff and search-around the room. 662 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was a small guest-bedroom, with a high twin-bed, and wall-to-wall carpeting. It had a closet, which I didn’t open, because wild-animals couldn’t open closets. It also had a dresser that I didn’t open. Strategically hiding my nudity, I put on a show of calmly wandering-about, looking at the objects and knick-knacks in the room. I gently picked some of them up. I inadvertently returned the first-two objects to exactly where I found them. The other knickknacks I handled, I left unharmed, but I returned them to haphazard animalchosen locations. “I think she’s okay,” whispered father. “Let’s close the door and give her some time to calm down. We’ll let her out later and watch her investigate the house.” After the door closed, my first priority was to think: What the hell was I doing? I had let myself be kidnapped as a pet, and corralled into a complete-stranger’s house! My mother would kill me. What was Choochoon doing now? How was I ever going to get in contact with her? How would I get out of this situation and fly-back home? I hadn’t read Choochoon’s copy of the book, “How to pick up an Alotian family.” Choochoon had only spent an hour retelling me important information from the book. And at the time, I mostly-thought she was pranking me. A copy of the book would be handy. Maybe, I thought sarcastically, I’d find a copy in the house. Clothes... I quietly opened the dresser looking for clothes. It was empty. I quietly opened the slatted bi-fold closet-doors.
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November 12, 2011 The closest contained a vacuum cleaner, and a few dress-jackets. They might work as clothing. I couldn’t wear them until I was seen as less-wild as a Red-Panda, though. Maybe I could. Wild Red-Pandas were curious and playful. A wild Red-Panda might be able to figureout how to wear a jacket. Alternatively, the bed had two plumped pillows. I could use them for coverage. Or, I could pull off a pillow case, and tie it around my waist into a skirt. One pillow-case wouldn’t be wide enough; two would work. A friend of mine had done that at a togaparty two years ago. Or, I could use the bed-sheet, and drape it over me like a cape. It would provide enough protection for now. Before anyone had a chance to yank me out of the room and guide me through the house naked, I grabbed the blue sheet off the bed, and wrapped the sheet around me like a cape. The sheet could double as a play-thing if I needed. I could play-hide underneath it. I could even wind it into a tug-of-war rope... but then the sheet wouldn’t provide me any visual protection. Clothing solved. The next problem was a toilet. I hadn’t seen one on the way into the bedroom. I couldn’t get to a toilet until the door was opened. And then, everyone in the family would watch me toilet... which was a definite no-no in my mind. Nor did wild RedPandas know how to use toilets. What was my priority after toilets? My priority was to sit and think. I crawled onto the high bed, and leaned-back against the backboard, my securityblanket covering me. 664 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How could I contact anyone? I had no way of contacting anyone, did I? My GPS had an emergency beacon. It was left on the spaceplane. I didn’t know Choochoon’s new address or her telephone number. She wouldn’t have known them either. I knew her university phone-number. I might be able to leave a message there. Did the Alotian phone-system tie into the interplanetary telephone-network? Choochoon might have selected a really-bad family, and might now be locked in a basement. Hell, I might have selected a really-bad family, though they seemed decent so far. Hmm, I post-realized: Choochoon’s nanny-pet thing wasn’t a prank after all. What a weird fucking day. This morning I was being smuggled onto a planet for a week-long hike. Now, I was a nanny-pet for an unspecified amount of time, and with no way to contact anyone. ... even Choochoon. I was worried about her, despite this being her crazy idea. How long until I heard from Choochoon? How long until she expected to hear from me? How long until someone else noticed I was missing? If I didn’t call my mother in a month, she’d worry. What would my mother do when she found-out I had become a nanny-pet? My mother was going to kill me. Could I get out of here in a month? I didn’t even have money for the airfare. 665 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Or a taxi. Or food.
SNIFFING-OUT THE HOUSE A door-click woke me up. My bleary-eyes cracked-opened. I was still on the Alotian planet. The door was ajar. Peaking through was Sarah. Behind, and a head taller, was father. “She’s awake,” whispered a beaming Sarah. Her father’s eyes widened, “Yes she is. Should we show her around the house?” Sarah nearly jumped up-and-down in glee. “Sure! I’ll get the blanket.” “No,” said father sneakily. “We’ll just leave the door open and let her wander-out on her own.” By that point, I was awake-enough to plan. I waited for the father-daughter-duo to back off. Father required several minutes of me lying undercover and watching them, to get the hint. He half-whispered, “Let’s move back Sarah. Maybe she’s frightened.” When they had hidden on either side of the doorway, I made my move. I was going to be Sarah’s friend, nanny, and tutor, so I decided to ham-it-up for her. I crept off the bed, covered by my blue-sheet cape. 666 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Sarah peeked in. I play-hid under the sheet for a moment. And then walked a few steps with only my eyes and muzzle visible. Sarah enjoyed the game; she thought I looked kooky. “She sure likes that blanket as a toy,” excited-whispered Sarah. Sarah stepped to the left of the doorway so I couldn’t see her. I crept out of the room. I knew exactly where Sarah was. When I was fully in the hallway, I tilted my head from left to right in humour, opened my eyes wide, and stuck my tongue out to the side. Sarah beamed. The hallway behind Sarah ended in a few closed doors. A toilet-room most-likely hid behind one of the doors. Unfortunately, my persona wouldn’t allow me to open all or any of the doors to find the toilet. I certainly wouldn’t be able to say “Excuse me”, and then close the toilet-door for privacy. A toilet-break would have to wait. The hallway in father’s direction led into the main part of the house. I went that way, pretending to be timid. Father backed away into a corner as I approached. I animal-shuffled out into the living-room. What was I interested in seeing? I didn’t need to explore the house now. I just needed to know where the toilet was, and perhaps where I could find some clothing. Hamming-it-up was more-important than learning the lay of the house. Should I roll on the ground? No. I had already rolled on the ground too-many times today. 667 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Was the living-room television on? That might interest a wild me. Unfortunately, it was off. Was anything moving in the room? I scanned around. A desk-doohickie to play with would be helpful. The living-room had a television, plaid couch, rug, armchair, and lots of toys scattered about. Opposite the kitchen entrance, a stairway led up. I decided to avoid going upstairs for now. The stairs would prove tricky if I were followed, and upstairs would most-likely be a private area. A doorway at the base of the stairs led somewhere. And there was the kitchen doorway. Where to? I should figure out which toys were Sarah’s, and play with them. I decided to do that later. Should I chew on anything? Maybe, but not Sarah’s toys. Sarah’s brother’s toys would work. Sarah wouldn’t mind if I chewed-on her brother’s toys. Should I first visit the kitchen, since I knew what was there? I cautiously ambled into the kitchen, pretending to be amazed by everything. Food was cooking on the kitchen cook-top. Mother was cautious about me grabbing the food and burning myself; she guarded the hot items. I noticed and payed attention to a wall-mounted pendulum-clock, pretending to be interested in the swinging pendulum. And then I returned my attention to Sarah, tilting my head at her. 668 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She watched me intently. I walked over to look through the screen door. When I got too close, Sarah bolted in front of the door and blocked the exit. Panda-smile on my part. No bathroom doorway was here. Finished with the kitchen, I meandered my way to the doorway at the base of the staircase. The room it led to was a study. It had several populated bookshelves, and a picture window looking onto a glade. A few chairs were arranged around a desk with a computer on it. I might be able to use the computer to contact someone. Did Alotians use the same E-mail system? The main desk-chair was a swivel chair! Swivel-chairs were fun. Sarah was watching. I sat on the swivel chair, bundling the blue bed-sheet into my lap, and spun around. When the chair stopped, I was swinging my heavy head left-and-right, dizzy like. I spun-around again. The desk had LOTS of playthings on it, but I wasn’t about to touch them. I spun-about slowly for five minutes, getting a lay of the room. There wasn’t any toilet-door here. A potted plant in the corner might work, but not now. My plan was to sneak out at night and find the toilet; it had to be getting dark soon... What was left for me to explore of the house? I couldn’t visit any rooms off the hallway because the doors were closed. 669 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I wouldn’t let myself go upstairs. There might be a games room up there, which would have enough animal-interesting things to entertain me as a wild Red-Panda. There might also be some bedrooms, and most-likely a toilet. What else? Toys would work. After another spin, I slid off the swivel-chair, donned my bed-sheet cape, and waddled-myself into the living room. There, I kneeled down and looked underneath the recliner for something to play with. “At least she’ll clean underneath the furniture,” commented mother. She was obviously nervous about having a large wild-animal in the house. Before I could find any of Sarah’s toys to play gently with, or grab-and-chew on any of her brother’s toys...
DINNER “Let’s corral her into the kitchen so she can eat,” said father. He and Sarah had the blanket out. I could play-along with being corralled into the kitchen, although a toilet would be nicer at this point. I let the father-daughter-pair heard me into the kitchen using the blanket. In the middle of the kitchen floor was a plate and two plastic-glasses of water. On the plate were two pork-chops, some lettuce, and a bread-roll. 670 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No deep-fried grease? I was accustomed to fast-food dorm-food. Nonetheless, the food was very good. The family watched me eat. I sat-down on my butt, with one leg outstretched and the other bent, and the blue bed-sheet over my lap. I picked-up and ate a pork-chop. I grabbed pieces of lettuce and ate those. Rocking my head, I happily looked over at Sarah and father, who were watching me from the doorway. I Panda-smiled. I ate the second pork-chop. I drank from the cup. Should I be able to drink from a cup? I hadn’t thought about that. I should have spilled some of the water first. The bread-roll went down last. To clean my fingers, I dipped them into one of the glasses of water. My wet fingers were easily licked clean of pork-chop gravy. My belly was satisfied. Less-than-wealthy students live on deep-fried meat-sticks for most of semester. Deer don’t carry much meat on their spaceplanes either. What should I do now? Maybe I should wait here while the family ate? Or should I get up and be corralled back into my room? Or should I investigate some more? 671 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t want to get locked-back in my room yet. The bed was comfortable, but the room was quite boring. I lay down in the centre of the kitchen, next to my empty food plate. I covered myself with my bed-sheet, and pretended to start dozing off. What else would a wild RedPanda do after eating? Camera-click. Sarah thought the scene made a cute photograph. I got about five-minutes of rest on the floor before mother commented, “We need to get her out of there so I can feed dinner to all of us.” “Okay dear,” answered father. “Come on Sarah, let’s heard her back into her bedroom.” Damn. Five minutes later I was in my bedroom. On the way there, I noticed that a small dining-table had somehow appeared in the living-room while I was eating.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. Father sat down at his desk. The children were watching television in the living-room. Sitting in front of his computer was a tattered paperback-book which he had been loaned, “How to feed and care for your wild Red-Panda”. He 672 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 leafed through the pages to understand what he had gotten himself into. Someone at work had loaned him the book a few months ago, but he had never read it. He hadn’t had time. Then, this morning, father received a phone-call from a stranger: “If you want a panda, go to picnic-table 47 at the park. Are you in?” Tongue-in-cheek cloak-and-dagger? Father paused to think. He had planned to spend the weekend-day working at home. Oh well, a Red-Panda was worth a try. “Er, yeah, sure.” “All you have to do is take a picnic lunch and your family to table 47. Make sure to write the number down.” The caller added, “Call us at 555-4784 when you get her, or if you can’t find her.” Father wrote down the number. “We have tags on her companion. Her companion was highly recommended by another Alotian planet. This one should be good also.” “Just remember. If anyone asks, we never called you. ” Father would have-to read the rest of the book over the next few days.
A TOILET, FINALLY No-one entered the hallway after dinner, except for a quick peek by Sarah. The house fell silent an hour after night arrived; the family must have all slept upstairs. I opened my door. I found the toilet-room, two doors down. 673 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Relief. Flushing the toilet would make too much noise, and alert the family that I was upand-about. Small boys didn’t flush either; he’d get blamed. I left the door open so that no-one would think that a wild-animal had both opened the door, and properly used the toilet. In the bathroom was a clothes hamper. Bonzai! I rummaged around, and found some red shorts. They must have been Sarah’s. I tried them on. They fit! No more security blanket! I’d have to somehow encourage mother to think that the kids had dressed me up in the shorts. And I’d have to convince the kids, namely Sarah, that father or mother had dressed me up. I carried the shorts into my bedroom, and closed the door for the night. What a weird fucking day. I wondered how Choochoon was doing. I hadn’t done badly myself. Crap, the day could have been incredibly scary. I was still worried about being broke, and pet-like, on a foreign planet. I worried more about Choochoon though.
THE NEXT DAY
From the Alotian point-of-view: 674 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. Father and mother were both eating breakfast when Sarah and Jim rumbled down the staircase. “Can I let my Red-Panda out?” asked Sarah excitedly. “Not now, she’s still settling.” Father had forgotten about his new nanny. “I want a photograph of her to take to school.” “You already have the photograph from last night in your camera. Don’t wake her up.” Father offered some hope for later-on, “You can take some photos tonight, and I can get them developed tomorrow.” He wasn’t sure that taking a photograph to school was a good idea. He had to remember to read up Panda-photography laws in the book. “What should we name her?” asked Sarah. “I don’t know, what do you think?” Sarah, “How about Wendy.” “That sounds like a nice name.” Father then realized that the Red-Panda might already have a name. “Wendy might work, but maybe we should see what her personality is like before we give her a name.” “Okay,” answered Sarah. Sarah ran-off to peak at her pet Red-Panda. “What should I do with the Panda?” asked mother. The Red-Panda was already proving more troublesome than a new employee at work, despite being well-behaved. “You could leave her in her bedroom for the day, if you’re worried.” Father didn’t know what to do; his wife wasn’t in on the deception yet. Mother wondered, “Can she get out [of her room]?” She might be able to drive a car, he thought. Getting out of her room shouldn’t be too difficult. “She hasn’t seemed to have figured-out how to open doors yet.” “What does your book say?” asked Mother. “You have a book on them?” interrupted Sarah as she returned from peeking at her Red-Panda. “Yes, I’m doing my homework.” “Can I read it?” Sarah was keen. “Not yet. I’ll let you read it after I’ve had a refresher.” The book 675 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 might spoil the surprise for Sarah that her clever-pet had at least a highschool education. Father unintentionally forgot to answer his wife’s question. He did remember to take the book to work.
IN THE BEDROOM I woke-up an hour after sunrise, after hearing my bedroom door open. Sarah had opened the door, and was peaking in, her face covered with a smile. I looked at her, and sleepily Panda-smiled. How had I gotten myself into this? What was I in for today? Sarah gave a timid wave before she gently closed the door. I wasn’t to be let-out yet, was I. I heard some discussions from elsewhere in the house. Fifteen minutes later, there was a bit of commotion as the front-door closed. I waited for someone to let me out. Was anyone-else home? Should I get up and open the door myself? 676 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I decided to wait. The toilet was calling again. I decided to wait some more. Maybe the family was doing some chores today. Maybe they forgot about me. Not likely; Sarah certainly wouldn’t forget. Or maybe they went to work and school. Alotian children might visit a classroom for part of the day. A work-day was the most-likely scenario. Everyone might have taken-off. I decided to wait half-an-hour before peeking out the door. Ten-minutes into my wait, I heard someone moving about the house. Oh well, I couldn’t use the toilet yet.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. After her husband and children left, mother did some cleaning. She had a noon lunch-appointment with friends. Mother didn’t like the idea of leaving a wild Red-Panda in the house alone. The Panda seemed quiet so far, but wild-animals could create an awful mess. Mother knew she should feed the Red-Panda before she left for 677 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 lunch, but she didn’t want to feed the Red-Panda on the guest-bedroom carpet. And she didn’t want to let the wild Red-Panda out; she might not be able to get the Red-Panda back into the bedroom without help. She was all-alone at the moment. Mother also wondered if the Red-Panda would damage the bedroom. Opening the door a crack, mother peeked inside. The Red-Panda was sleeping in bed with a sheet over her. The room wasn’t messed-up at all. What should mother do about food and water? No, those could wait a few hours until mother returned home. She didn’t want to see a food-mess scattered all around the room. Besides, the Red-Panda was sleeping. The Red-Panda most-likely slept through the daytime, and wouldn’t be expecting food or water for hours. Mother closed the door quietly. She set the doorknob-lock on, just to make sure the Red-Panda couldn’t get out. She grabbed her shopping-list on the way out, and drove off.
WANDERING AROUND THE HOUSE A few hours after Sarah’s peek-in, mother opened the door a crack. Despite being half-asleep, I managed a Panda-smile. Was mother going to let me out? I mentally prepared to wake up and get out of bed. Mother slowly closed the door. I wasn’t going to get out yet, was I. Ten minutes later, I heard the house-door close. Had mother left also? Was I alone? 678 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The toilet was loudly calling me. I waited for half-an-hour before venturing outside my room. I sat up in bed, and planned. Should I venture-out of my room wearing the red shorts? No. They might cause problems. Not enough time and confusion had passed for plausible-deniability. The children had to think that their parents had provided me with the shorts, and vice-versa. The bed-sheet was still required. The door was closed. What if someone was around? As a wild animal, I shouldn’t be able to open doors yet... but maybe I could. Or maybe one of the family members had left the door unlatched. Were there any other scenarios to plan for? I couldn’t think of any. Time to act. I crept out of bed, hugging my safety blanket, and slowly turned the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn! I tried again. Nope. It wouldn’t turn. Was it broken? I wouldn’t expect it; the house was in good shape. Mother must have locked the door from the outside. If I were locked-in from the outside, how could I unlock the door from the inside? I needed to get out... the bedroom contained no potted-plants to double as a toilet. 679 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I thoroughly examined the door, and found a small button depressed into the doorknob stem. Pressing the button with my fingernail released the lock. I opened the door. Was anyone around? If mother had locked me in, then she might have gone out. All I really wanted was the toilet, but I didn’t want to be caught visiting the toiletroom. If I were caught outside of my room, I wanted whoever-was-here to think I was aimlessly wandering-around animal-like. What was mother’s most-likely location? I made sure to grunt and make lots of shuffling noises. I first wandered into the living-room, then the kitchen, and then the den. No-one was downstairs. I didn’t head upstairs. I didn’t feel comfortable entering the family’s private space. If anyone were up there, they either would hear me grunting and banging about, and come down, or they were soundly asleep. I appeared to be alone. Toilet time! I even dared to flush. The flushing sound wasn’t as loud as I expected. My breath reeked. I needed a toothbrush and toothpaste. Toothpaste-alone would have worked, but none was in the downstairs bedroom. Should I sneak upstairs? No, not until I was invited. I scrubbed my teeth as well as possible with my finger. Still carrying my safety-blanket, I made my way into the kitchen to find food. I needed water. I climbed onto the high kitchen-counter and drank from the faucet. If I had been thinking, I could have drunk from the bathroom sink much-more easily.
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November 12, 2011 Food interested me, perhaps some chocolate cake. I opened the refrigerator door. The cake was missing. (I found out later that it had been damaged when I got out of the sedan’s boot.) Instead, I grabbed a bread-roll and munched on that.
THE CHILDREN RETURN HOME FROM SCHOOL While munching on the roll, I heard a commotion outside. It sounded like Sarah’s voice, and her brother’s. I heard the screen-door open. It must have been a school-day. Crap. I couldn’t let them see me outside my room. I bolted into my bedroom, dragging my safety-blanket. After closing the bedroom door, I jumped into bed and pretended to sleep. Hopefully Sarah would officially let me out.
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SARAH IS HOME Sarah was keen. Two minutes after she opened the kitchen door, Sarah cracked-open my bedroom door. I looked bleary-eyed at Sarah, and pretended to wake up with a full-length stretch, and a yawn. She was still watching, so I Panda-smiled at her. Sarah whispered, “I’ll leave the door open for you in case you want to come out.” Then she backed off slowly. Now was a good time to introduce my red-pants to the family. Sarah would think her mother had given them to me, and vice-versa. I didn’t know if Sarah had hidden around the corner, or had gone-off to do here homework. If Sarah peeked-in and saw me putting the pants on, not-only would I be embarrassed, she might realize that I wasn’t a wild animal.
The whole “pretend to be a wild Red-Panda” thing was interesting. Father already knew, which was helpful. He didn’t seem to want his wife to know right-away, so I wasn’t about to reveal my true identity to her. Obviously, if the family wanted a normal Alotian nanny, they could hire one. Father must be looking for something a bit different for his children. How would Sarah’s and Jim’s experience be different if I were a “wild-animal” nanny instead of an Alotian nanny? I had thought about this while in bed, and over the next few days.
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November 12, 2011 Sarah and Jim could have fun teaching the animal-me new skills, something that children cannot do with Alotian nannies. I could act extra Red-Panda-like, and overemphasize differences between Red-Panda personalities and Alotian personalities. Uniquely, I had begun my relationship with the children as an unintelligent animal. The children would grow into the realization that I was an intelligent person. Most people that they met began as intelligent people, and remained intelligent people. Only infants began as unintelligent animals, and grew into intelligent people, but over over decades. I could accelerate the pace to a few weeks. I could also pretend to be permanently dim, limiting myself to 50 IQ, while maintaining a more-adaptable personality than someone with 50-IQ would have. Sarah’s underestimation of my intelligence would also let me trick her... in ways beneficial to her. I seriously considered maintaining the charade of not being able to speak her language. That would be Panda-fun! I wondered how far I could get with just miming and pointing, without-even using simple Alotian words. Or, I could teach Sarah some simple Red-Panda words and phrases. Anyway, I was formulating a plan.
Back to putting my pants on without Sarah possibly noticing... I crept out of bed, fully covered by my bed-sheet cape. Once on the ground, I took a few steps to stand-over the shorts. My bed-sheet cape completely covered the red shorts. Still no Sarah peeking in. I bent down and grabbed the shorts, the shorts and my hand hidden by the bedsheet. 683 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No Sarah yet. With shorts in hand, I hopped back onto bed and slid the shorts on. My tail fit down one of the legs. Sarah hadn’t yet peeked in. Once dressed, I meandered, wild-like, into the living room. I still carried my security blanket as a cape. I might discard that part of my costume over the next few days if no-one objected to the red shorts. Sarah and her brother were watching television. She kept an eye on the hallway, just in-case I came out. When she saw me shyly creep out of the hallway, she turned to her brother, held her finger vertically to her mouth, and went “Shhh.” Her brother looked. His eyes went wide. I couldn’t imagine what was on his mind. I played shy and mildly frightened. Sarah intently watched me as I wandered around the periphery of the room. I wanted to see what the children were watching on television without getting so close to them that they might get nervous. Scanning the room like a wild Red-Panda, I looked for a pile of toys positioned so that I could both sit and play with them, and watch the television. The foldaway dining-table was in the corner of the living-room, opposite the television. In front of that were some of Jim’s toys. They were large, colourful, plastirubber toys. I could play with them without upsetting Sarah. I ambled to the toy-laden floor-space, and animal sat-down amidst the toys. Sarah watched me; Jim returned his attention to the television. I picked up a plasti-rubber train. I glanced at the television. They were watching a children’s cartoon. Sarah scrutinized my actions. My selection of toy hadn’t alarmed her. 684 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I watched the television program for half-a-minute. It showed cartoon Alotianchildren. Sarah was still watching me. What would a wild Red-Panda do? I had an object in my hand that was soft, but firm. I chewed on the toy, something I hadn’t done since I was three. Sarah gave me a “you’re-a-bad-animal” look. “Don’t do that [silly]!” she remarked. Oops. I hadn’t expected Sarah to object to my chewing. She got up from her television-watching position, and walked over to me. Sarah sat down cross-legged in front of me. I was sitting with one leg out, and one leg bent. Sarah didn’t seem to notice that I was wearing clothes. She grabbed the toy from my hand, not terribly gently. Sarah deposited it behind herself, far-away from me, so that I wouldn’t chew on the plasti-rubber train. Interesting, I thought. What was she going to do now? I stared goofily at her, wobbling my head slightly. Sarah just stared-back curiously. How should I mentally poke her? Which toy was most-opposite the chew-train? There were some wooden blocks. I could arrange them in front of Sarah. And then I saw a thick-paged book. 685 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I picked up the book. And opened it. Sarah watched, and considered my choice of toy. She gave an approving “That’s better” look, and then wandered back to the television. A fairly typical child-response: I don’t want you to play with the toy you selected. You play with that toy instead. Now what should I do? Sarah obviously wasn’t afraid of me. Neither was Jim... he was oblivious to me. Should I get Sarah to read to me? I already had the book in hand. Read-to-me seemed like a decent plan. So that Sarah and her brother wouldn’t be startled, I noisily stood up, grunting and pushing some toys away. They both looked. I hobbled towards them, and plopped myself down an arm’s-length away from Sarah. Neither she nor Jim seemed frightened. Jim was a bit nervous though. He didn’t think of me as an animal, but I was definitely a stranger, and I might-just be a girl. Oops. I realized that I had left my safety-blanket back with the toys. Oh well. I played with the book, unintelligently opening-and-closing the pages. Sarah didn’t mind. I mouthed the book. 686 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She minded slightly more. I handed her the book. Wild Red-Pandas wouldn’t have handed books to children. Oops. Did Sarah notice my role-playing mistake? Sarah accepted the book. “No you silly. I don’t want the book,” she said after looking at it. “Watch television instead.” Sarah placed the book as far-away from me as possible. I watched the television show with the children. It featured some cute bald-headed Alotian children in everyday home-life. Our children’s cartoons were much gorier.
VIDEO GAMES The kitchen-door opened. “Children, I’m home,” called-out mother. We all turned around to watch the kitchen doorway. Mother walked into the living-room. She gasped. I could only imagine what was going through her mind. She almost-certainly forgot that she had left a wild Red-Panda in her house. And then she arrives, to see the wild Red-Panda sitting behind her children... which was dangerous. And the wild Red-Panda was wearing her favourite red shorts. (At the time, I thought they were Sarah’s.) 687 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Mother watched us for a few minutes, even after we went back to watching television. She was mostly watching me, of course. Mother pretended to be interested in the television also, watching for five minutes before she walked into the kitchen and unpacked the groceries. Every few minutes thereafter, I saw her peak her head through the doorway and make sure I hadn’t eaten her children. After Sarah’s show ended, a different cartoon came on. Her brother wanted to watch the new cartoon, but Sarah didn’t. “Move over Jim,” Sarah ordered her brother. “My Red-Panda and I want to play video-games.” There was an implied, “There are now two of us older-girls, and only one of you.” Sarah turned-off the television receiver, and plugged the video-game signal-wire into the back of the television. She took one controller, and handed me the other. Jim obediently wandered-off to play with his toys in the corner. He knew who was boss, Sarah, especially when reinforced with a second girl. Sarah selected a “pink” game for her and me to play. I had absolutely no-clue how to play it. It wasn’t violent or adrenaline-packed like most of the Lemur video-games I had played. Game-play involved moving computer-drawn blocks around the screen using a Lemur-style game-controller. I pretended to not know how to use the game-controller. Sarah easily beat me the first few games... I intentionally pressed all of the wrong buttons on my controller. She then had to spend time showing and teaching me how the game-controller affected the moving-icons on the television. I didn’t play the video-game as a complete idiot, but my skill-level was so low that little-Jim would have won every time.
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November 12, 2011 I didn’t notice Sarah’s mother in the room until she had walked halfway-in. She watched us playing the video-game. She didn’t gasp this time.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. Father read some more of “How to feed and care for your wild RedPanda” during a work-break.
Photographs of Red-Pandas were legal, but photographs of them in houses wearing clothes and sipping Mai Tais might raise suspicions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mai_Tai)
Wild Red-Pandas were not allowed outside in suburbs or anywhere civilized, even with a leash.
People weren’t required to report the “rescue and housing” of sick or injured wild Red-Pandas. They couldn’t legally take healthy ones home.
After work, father stopped by the local discount shop and purchased a video about wild Red-Pandas.
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DINNER Mother pulled out the dining-table, attached the legs, and set plates and cutlery on it. I thought about helping, but didn’t. Sarah’s fun-illusion that I was a clever-pet would be ruined if I already knew how to set a dinner-table. Mother would completely freak-out also. Jim returned to the video-game arena. Since I was such a lousy video-game player, Sarah grabbed the controller from my hands, and gave it to Jim. I sat and watched them play a few games. Father arrived home sometime after the table was set. “Hello. Good evening,” he said to his wife. He didn’t interrupt his game-entranced children. Nor did he seem at-all-amazed that I was watching them play. Over the next half hour, I smelled food cooking. I expected to be called into the kitchen to eat on the floor. Instead, “Sarah, Jim, dinner’s ready”, said Father. Unlike when my friends and I were children, Sarah and Jim promptly shut-off their video-game and seated themselves at the dining-table. No longer interested in the still video-game image on the television screen, I watched the family sit down to eat. Was I going to be fed in the living room? The video-game beeped annoyingly. I was. Father approached with a plate, and set it down a few meters away from me. It held turkey with gravy, and sweet potatoes. Father stood by the food, perhaps training me not to be afraid of him. I stood up, and wobbled over to my meal.
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November 12, 2011 I sat down to eat. Turkey with gravy, and the sweet potatoes, would be messy without a fork. Just after I seated myself, father picked-up the plate and moved it a few meters closer to the dining-table. Interesting. I stood-up slowly, ambled over to the plate, and sat down again. Father picked the plate up yet again, this time holding it in front of my face. I understood what he was doing, I think. Father nose-led me to the table, where he set the plate down on the corner of the table. Father was skilled at pretending to train me. I would have to sit at the dinner-table, of course. In front of me was a yellow elevated-chair. Wild Red-Pandas enjoyed climbing. I was soon seated on the chair. Sitting next to my loaded dinner-plate was a spoon. A fork and knife would have been nice, but perhaps too-dangerous for a wild Red-Panda. How long should it take me to learn how to use a spoon? With gravy-laden turkey and mushy sweet-potatoes, I had incentive to quickly-train my wild-side to use a spoon. Oops. I should have suddenly learned to use a spoon while the rest of the family was busy eating, and not paying attention to me. Mother and Sarah were amazed that I could clumsily-eat with a spoon. “She must have learned how to eat with utensils at the picnic grounds,” commented mother. Hmm... Mother hadn’t figured me out yet.
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From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. “How to feed and care for your wild Red-Panda” noted that RedPandas sometimes lose their wildness within 24 hours of being comfortably housed. Father wondered when his Red-Panda would decided to become civilized. Wild Red-Pandas sometimes lost their wildness when shown a video of real wild Red-Pandas. Authentic “wild” Red-Pandas look almost-exactly like domesticated “wild” Red-Pandas. Alotian nature-documentary video-photographers are never certain if the “wild” Red-Pandas they film are the real thing. One Alotian nature-photographer theorized that there are no wild Red-Pandas left in the universe; all observed “wild” Red-Pandas are merely Red-Panda psychology students studying nature photographers.
WILD RED-PANDA VIDEO After dinner, I was lured in front of the television with a slice of cake. So was everyone else. Father put on a video. It featured wild Red-Pandas. It was the first documentary on wild Red-Pandas that I had watched. I learned that I had no clue how real wild Red-Pandas acted. 692 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Was father teaching me how to be a better wild Red-Panda?
As I went to sleep that night, I wondered how Choochoon was doing. My day had gone well.
THE STORY-DEBATE This is a true story. It’s a situation-comedy, where normal people are thrown into humorous situations. Conversely, United-States situation-comedies extract humour by throwing inane people into normal situations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Situation_comedy) We (the “aliens” and I) selected this story for variety; my recent stories have been distinctly un-funny. Unfortunately, the true-story from here-on-out is much-less funny than what happened in the first three days of my nanny “job”. Over the next couple months, most of the “story action” involved me pretending to be a wild Red-Panda being taught by Sarah. Meanwhile, I used the “wild” part and the “Red-Panda” part to help her learn. I also chipped-in as a family member, though I was limited by my clever-pet role. As a wild Red-Panda, I wasn’t legally allowed to leave the house. I could clean while the children were at school, but Alotians don’t make much of a mess. I mostly cleaned-up cobwebs. If I knew how to cook... which I didn’t... I could have prepared meals during school-hours. I couldn’t have cooked them though, since the children were always around when cooking took place.
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November 12, 2011 Simply, if I continue writing an hour-by-hour account of my activities, the hours become routine and non-comedic. If keeping the story funny were paramount, I could integrate anecdotes from other “wild” Red-Pandas. Apparently, one Red-Panda had a secret “Red-Panda room” in the basement, the family a frequent-Panda employer. Other Red-Panda nannies were taken to “show and tell” sessions at school, with humorous results. Children’s birthday parties provide endless anecdotes. And, a trip to the shopping mall by a Red-Panda wearing a trench-coat and sunglasses would also extend the story’s humour. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Show_and_tell_(education)) Another way we could maintain the comedy level would be to fabricate humorous situations, which I really don’t want to do. Someone else can write invented RedPanda stories. Less-humorous stuff was happening on the planet, and less-humorous stuff has happened to Red-Pandas since. Do I switch the theme/genre of my story from a “humorous” first-half, to a “Red-Panda issues” second-half? I could also switch themes/genres from a “humorous” first-half to a “familyrelationships” second-half, showing how my Red-Pandaness affected the family, particularly Sarah. And how this affected mother’s relationship with her son, Jim. And how father’s attempts to find Choochoon (who did quite-well for herself) led him to decide to take an extended leave of absence. A “family-relationships” second-half could also illustrate how my NON-PANDA presence affected the family. Simply put, what happens when a nanny moves into your house? Any Alotian nanny would have both tutored the children, and helped with homecare. Is there any point including my NON-PANDA activities? We also discussed other story directions. Of course, the discussion over what to write for the second-half of the story leads to the discussion about whether to write the discussion into the story. And it also leads to all sorts of politics, because many of the people helping me write this story, are friendly with one-another as individuals, but their races/nations have disagreements. 694 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Anyway, the rest of THIS telling of story is more of a wrap-up, focusing on the interactions between me as a “Red-Panda” and “pet”, and my Alotian family.
PS – Please feel free to rewrite this story to your own liking.
SARAH Father was only around in the evenings, which was also when the children were present and watching me. I couldn’t plan my pet-to-person transformation with father. Instead, I had to take direction from coded hints that he spoke. Sarah’s mother didn’t need me to be a clever-pet. Jim was too-young to get glee from the clever-pet experience. Most of my focus was on Sarah:
Besides playing videogames and watching television with Sarah, I got her to teach me how to play with cubic-blocks. Alotians don’t imprint letters on their blocks. I began by clumsily arranging the blocks on the floor, and then ineptly laying them on top of one another. Then Sarah would show me “the right way to do it.” Then I’d do a half-assed job, intentionally messing-up what she showed me. And then she’d show me a better way. Sometimes she even instructed me.
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November 12, 2011 I was intentionally never better at building than she was. I allowed myself to be a better builder than her little brother though. That way, he could be nearly as good at blocks as I was, despite being smaller.
I tried to get Sarah to teach me her language (which I already understood) by having her read to me. That didn’t work. She would always discard the book, and move me onto another activity.
Numbers, I could help with. I eventually got Sarah to teach me how to count with blocks. And then she taught me how to write numbers. And then her mother, in on the charade, taught Sarah and me how to add numbers together properly. I intentionally made mistakes to encourage Sarah to double-check my work, not just hers.
How could I teach Sarah something about my culture? That was tricky. I used hyper-accentuated Panda emotes, not Alotian emotes; my facial muscles couldn’t produce most Alotian emotes. Beyond emotes, gestures, and our Red-Panda personality, I couldn’t teach Sarah much. I didn’t possess any books on my culture. None were available on the Alotian internet either. I was cautious about teaching too-much Red-Panda culture. Some of our culture would NOT have been appreciated by Sarah’s parents. For example: Alotians feel that “manners” are very important; we Red-Pandas don’t.
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November 12, 2011 I intentionally didn’t break the language barrier. I could understand Sarah, but I sometimes pretended that I couldn’t. I never spoke to her, even though I could have spoken with a highly-accented version of her Alotian language. I spoke to her mother once or twice, asking questions. I was eventually going to find a non-book way for Sarah to teach me her language, but I ran out of time.
In order to NOT destroy the clever-pet illusion, I didn’t help-out much with housework. Wild Red-Pandas aren’t particularly good with cleaning, neither are domesticated ones. Neither was Sarah. I once moved the dining-chairs to the diningtable, placing them backwards. “No, you don’t arrange chairs like that, silly! Do it this way,” Sarah stated as she reversed the chairs. That trick only worked once.
Dress-up was fun. We did that a few times. Her little-brother would never allow himself to be dressed-up by her. I only permitted her to put makeup on me once... maybe twice. Alotian makeup does NOT come off of fur.
Sarah wanted to invite her friends over to meet me, but her father wouldn’t allow it because, legally, I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was to stay mostly-secret and “wild”, as far as other people were concerned. Once “healthy”, I would be released back into the wild... namely my university dorm. When neighbours and relatives stopped by, I was closed into my bedroom. I was either too dangerous or shy to come out. They were allowed peeks though.
I had a half-planned a Sarah teaching-schedule lasting months, but my clever-pet role was curtailed.
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From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. Father didn’t watch television news. He got his news from the radio, and an equivalent to “The Wall Street Journal”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wall_street_journal) The more he read about the political and war situation in the region, the more nervous he became. He became particularly twitchy when his secret Red-Panda contact at 555-4784 told him there were problems in the Red-Panda multiracialzone.
TELEVISION NEWS Mother and I watched the news during the day, when the children were at school. Alotian news was focused on Alotians, mostly-uninteresting to Red-Pandas acting as clever-pets. Once in-awhile, television news reported that Hominid delegations were having meetings and treaties with the Alotians. Different Hominids, nasty ones, were causing problems for “the wild races”, as the Alotians called us, Red-Pandas and “Animal”-evolved people. As I understood things
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November 12, 2011 from Alotian television-news, Hominids were beginning a war against the multiracialzone that I came from. I worried about how Choochoon fared on the Alotian planet. I was more worried about what was happening to “The Free Lands/Peoples”, the multiracial (non-Hominid) zone was where I came from. I didn’t like being so far away from my friends when they might be in trouble. Even though I would be safer with the Alotians, I still planned to return to “The Free Lands/Peoples”.
From the Alotian point-of-view: For maximum comedic effect, do NOT read this section until your SECOND reading of this story. Father was at the airport ticket-counter, a huge wad of cash in his pocket. The political/war situation was getting scary. Father had arranged an extended-leave holiday for himself. “I’d like a flight to “The empty lands”, preferably Shangrila.” (“Shangrila” is a disguised planet name, changed to protect other people hiding-out there.) The ticket saleswomen knew exactly what father wanted. “And how many will be travelling?” “Two adults, and two children. My oldest is nine.” “That won’t be any problem Mister Smith.” (Names changed.) “And, er, oh yes, I need a plane-ticket for a pet Red-Panda. She’s wildcaught and a family pet, you know. Is that possible?” Many Alotians had “wild” Red-Pandas, or had friends who had them. The ticket salesperson thought. 699 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Your Red-Panda can’t legally have a seat, unfortunately.” She typed something into her computer. “Can you fit her into a pet pack?” “No seat?” “No sir, I’m sorry. Regulations forbid it. She might be able to get out of her pet-pack during the flight.” “Damn. [Pause] Sure. How much is a pet-pack flight?” “No problem, it’s about one-quarter the cost of a normal flight.” “Can I get a pet-pack for my wife also?” There’s a funny Alotian hiding in every Alotian male. The flight salesperson suppressed a smiled laugh. “No sir, I’m afraid you cannot.”
PET-PACK I didn’t learn about our evacuation-flight until a week before we left. That was a couple months after I was found “wild” near the picnic tables. Evacuation was more-important than the charade. I helped my family pack everything into storage boxes, which we carried down into the basement. The packed objects and memories might survive in the basement if the house was bombed. They were also out-of-the-way in-case someone-else needed to move in. Alotians didn’t have looters. On the day of our flight, my family jumped into the sedan. The boot was filled with packed bags. “Hop in the back,” said father. I Panda-smiled. I knew that he was breaking the law by allowing me to ride in the back seat. Alotians hate breaking the law. And I also knew his gesture was a sign of allegiance/respect. When we got to the airport, a pet-pack was waiting for me. 700 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was warned that this would happen. There was no seating for my family anywhere near the pet-pack area. My family chose to not leave me alone. My entire Alotian family stood by my pet-pack, waiting for the flight.
WANT TO TURN THIS INTO A COMPUTER-GRAPHICS MOVIE? One in ten Alotians have had a “clever-pet” for a portion of their childhood. Half of the clever-pets are “wild” Red-Pandas. Alotians have a famous children’s cartoon-movie about a melancholy young girl receiving a Red-Panda as a gift for “Christmas”. The Alotian holiday isn’t technically Christmas, but it is about family and gift-giving. In the story, the “wild” Red-Panda 701 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and girl have all sorts of fun adventures. Unfortunately, after half a year, and after the girl’s sadness has evaporated, the Red-Panda knows it is time to leave; there is always another Alotian child that needs cheering up. In the story epilogue, the girl is visited twice a year by her Red-Panda forever-more. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_poppins, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frosty_the_Snowman_(TV_program)) The Alotians invite an Earth-Sol computer-animation studio to rewrite this story (without the swear words), or to rewrite the original “Christmas” story, for Earth-Sol children.
PS – Tinker Bell, from the book, “Peter and Wendy”, was Deer-evolved; they are not quite as irate as Elk, but don’t ever piss them off. “Tinker Bell” (“Deengya Buh”) means “Wagging tail”, with sexual connotations. As clearly stated in the book, Nana, the Darling-family’s nanny, was a [walking] Dog [person]. The Mermaids were Dolphin-evolved. “Animal”-people spaceplane-pilots who docked over England and the United States in the early twentieth century, used the book as a telepathic indicator to find children who did not wish to be Hominids. Reread the story after reading my description of life off-of Earth-Sol, “Africa is to 1st world countries on Earth, as Earth is to alien nations”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tinker_Bell, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Pan_and_Wendy, http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullEBook.pdf)
I mentioned the “Neverland” planet (not actually called that), as Medieval-Land in my story, “After the “Dead List” – I’m a Deer”. Medieval-Land is a small planet with Cromwell-England-like technology. That planet is now a military outpost for the invading Hominids. A few years ago, it was run by a reasonably-friendly ex-Hominidemperor who helped house “Hominid-Animals”. They are Hominids whose souls were placed into “Animal”-people bodies because they had abused “Animal”-people. The Hominid-Animals were thereafter considered “tainted” and not allowed to 702 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 return to Hominid society. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakDeadListDeer.pdf, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cromwell)
Spoiler alert: Peter Pan was eventually eaten by a giant crocodile; they do exist on other planets. Tinker Bell dumped him.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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SOAP OPERA by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
This story contains sexual references. It is intended for mature audiences only.
ELK AS A HOSTAGE
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PACING I was locked in a metal box, 2.2-meters high, and 4.4-meters square. The box was located in the basement of building. I occasionally heard people talking to oneanother above. The walls, ceiling, floor, and door of the box were an unpainted flat-panel grey“steel”. I paced around the cell. The box’s only-door was offset towards one corner, perfectly flush with the wall. It had a small shiny-steel loop-handle. I had tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. I paced around the cell. Lighting was provided by battery-powered glow-sheets glued to the ceiling. They had motion-sensors attached that dimmed the lights when I didn’t move. The lights never shut off. I paced around the cell. There was no air vent. The air was stale, and reeked from a few days of body, urine, and faecal odours. I sat-down against the wall, my knees bent. In the room was a blue bed-sheet, and a very-thick orange comforter. A urine-bottle, dustpan, and brush were in the other corner. I had scooped my faeces into the dustpan. Also in the corner were an empty plastic water-bottle, and a wax-paper sandwich wrapper from yesterday’s feed. This place was too small. I wondered when the Hominids were going to let me out.
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November 12, 2011 I would have slept to-pass the time more-quickly. Sleeping was difficult though. The box’s air was stale and fetid. The lights never shut-off completely. Despite the thick comforter they gave me to sleep on, I couldn’t rest my head properly. My antlers were too large. If I lay on my back, my head was tilted forward, uncomfortably pinching my neck. If I lay on my side, my head was tilted to the left, and my right antler-base would ache because of the asymmetrical weight put on my right antler. At least the Hominids didn’t cut off my antlers; Hominid slavers sometimes did that.
YESTERDAY Yesterday, sometime that may-have-been morning, afternoon, or evening, someone opened the door to my cell. I was awake, ruminating, when I saw the door slowly-open outwards. A Hominid man, with black hair, looked at me awkwardly as he peaked through the crackeddoor. He might have been nervous, but I couldn’t accurately tell from his Hominid face. I was far-enough away from the door that I would have to stand up to get near him. I decided not to move so that he wouldn’t be frightened by my actions. I was considerably larger than him. The man placed a small wax-paper bundle on the ground by the door, and left a small bottle of water sitting next to it. He quietly closed the door. Food, finally.
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November 12, 2011 I stood up, my antlers nearly touching the 2.2-meter high ceiling. I grabbed the food and water from near the door, and returned to my bundled-up comforter, where I sat-down. Since I was thirsty, I first tried to open the 700-millilitre water container. My hands have two large fingers, a distant thumb, and a smaller pinkie. My fingers didn’t have enough purchase for me to unscrew the small sky-blue water-bottle cap.
I put the water aside out of frustration. I grabbed and unwrapped the wax-paper. Inside was a sandwich made with a whitebread bun. The filling was a thin slice of ham, or maybe some dinosaur-cattle meat. It had mustard, and no greens. Having been starved and dehydrated for the last few days, I quickly-ate the sandwich. The bread-bakery they used produced decent-tasting bread. Their ham was distinctly flavourless.
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November 12, 2011 I returned my attention to the water. I once-again tried to unscrew it. That didn’t work. I rolled my eyes nose-wards in mild-disgust and annoyance. How was I supposed to open the water? I needed to drink now. The Hominids might not check on me for another day or two. Teeth might work. Not my front teeth though. I have a sizable gap between my front teeth and rear ones. I used the water-bottle’s neck to force my left lip-corner as far-back as possible, where I clamped the water-bottle cap between the first of my rear teeth. With two hands, I unscrewed the bottle from the cap. Ten bottle-twists later, the cap fell-off in my mouth, and I drank the water. One small sandwich and 700 millilitres was not enough. I was still hungry and thirsty.
THREE DAYS AGO (MY TIME) Several-thousand years ago, we would have arrived by sailing-ship. Our spaceplane landed at the prearranged location. Its exit-door opened-up in front of us. We had a twenty-centimetre down-step onto the pristinely-cut lawn of the reception mansion. We Elk are very traditional, at least at formal gatherings and ceremonies. Before the door opened, I was already-positioned in front of the meter-wide exitdoor, with the three Elk-women envoys behind me, in a perpendicular line. If the Hominids were going to shoot, they’d hit the largest and front-most object first, 708 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 which was me. My collapse would provide a few-seconds worth of distraction for the Envoys to scatter. The Hominids weren’t going to shoot. Several-thousand years ago, Elk archers mighthave shot me though, as I appeared on the deck of my longship. I was the first to walk-out of the spaceplane. I stopped about four people-spaces in front of the doorway. My role was simply to look tall. The tradition goes back thousands of years, when men were big-and-brawny, and women needed defending. At the time, each Elk-man was allowed three wives because two-thirds of the men had hacked-themselves to death with scimitars. In the thousand-years since, Elk-men became less brawny, and less-interested in being hacked-to-death. We weren’t sure why the Hominids wanted a full ceremony. If it weren’t for their full ceremony, hopefully including a feast later, which there wouldn’t be, then I wouldn’t be required here. I was selected because I was available, and because three-hundred generations ago, my great uncle’s second grandfather was the king’s little-brother. The three envoys walked out of the spaceplane-doorway single-file, and repositioned themselves in a perpendicular-line behind me. All that could be seen of our spaceplane from the outside was a doorway looking into our spaceplane’s reality. But for a faint doorframe-outline and some forming fog, our spaceplane’s exterior was invisible. As expected, when we had all exited onto the lawn, I heard and felt the spaceplane disappear out of our three-dimensional space. We tried to look stately and elegant; we were undoubtedly being filmed by invisible cameras, for a news-segment and for posterity. The Elk-woman to my right stamped her foot, signalling that all was clear... and that all three women were prepared for the slow walk up to the reception-mansion. I began walking at a stately pace, the women following in a line behind me. 709 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Walk a bit faster,” came a telepath. I walked at a slightly less-stately pace. A hundred meters away, stood three red-headed Hominid women at the top of the wide entrance-steps to the reception-mansion. They wore ground-touching white gowns. The woman in the centre held a bouquet of flowers. The bouquet verified that they were being filmed, and so were we. Most of our walk was on the soft grass. Five meters from the stone-step entrance, we stepped onto a bitumen loop-driveway. It would-have allowed chauffeured limousines to drop guests off at the mansion. Two meters before the bottom of the grey-green stone steps, we paused. The centre red-head stood slightly in-front of the other two. The Hominid woman on the left held a scroll, which she unravelled. She began reading a long and lengthy formal greeting, that included a traditional poem, and various translations of “We welcome you” in traditional languages. Every little twitch and blink that I made was being recorded by the cameras. The invisible camera-bots were undoubtedly zooming around us to get the best angles. Half-way through the lengthy welcome, the woman on the right took-up the greeting without missing a beat. She had no scroll to read from. The woman on the left was still reading silently. This was a symbolic gesture to indicate that no telepathyblockers were being used. The woman on the right was speaking what the woman on the left was reading silently to herself. After the formal greeting was finished, the Elk-woman behind me stomped her foot, indicating that I should proceed. We weren’t expected to speak a response here. In our tradition, I would have calledout loudly, using a non-word that sounds vaguely like “Ah-oo-kk”, perhaps spelled “orc”. Our delegation would then-have entered the house for a feast, followed by 710 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 discussions. Since this ceremony was meant for Hominid television, we adhered more to their ancient protocols than ours. My job was to look tall. I didn’t have to say anything. The Elk-women weren’t expected to speak anything until meetings took place inside. I walked slowly and stately up the steps. The three Elk-women followed behind me in a line. The three red-headed women walked backwards as we advanced. I slowed my pace a-little so they wouldn’t trip and fall. The Gothic-arch entryway was wide enough for the three Hominid women to walk backwards, abreast. A minute later, my antlers cleared the top of the arch by a few centimetres. I expected to have to bend down. The three Elk-envoys followed. I hoped that I wouldn’t sneeze. I had done so once before. When we were all inside, the red-headed women turned around, and led us down the centre red-carpet of the great hall. We followed, keeping pace with them. About midway down the unfurnished great-hall (benches were against the walls), I stopped as scripted. The three Elk-women behind me also halted. The red-headed women proceeded to the end of the hall, where they exited via two doors on opposite ends of the far wall. Several formally-dressed Hominid men stood against the left and right sides of the hall, not far from the two doors. As the red-headed women left, the sandy-brownhaired men approached to continue the ceremony. The four men arranged themselves into a line in front of us, with a person-gap directly in front of me.
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November 12, 2011 One of the white-dressed women returned from her doorway hideout. She walked forwards, stopped a length behind the men’s line, and motioned for me to follow her. I stepped through the line of the men, two to either side. The red-headed woman turned around, and I followed her. My role here was finished. I would-be led through one of the doors towards a retiring-room. I’d then be off-camera, and could sneeze without embarrassment. This time, I was led through the right door. I had to duck so that my antlers wouldn’t hit the doorframe. I didn’t want any antler-height misjudgements to appear on Hominid news. Such accidents were photogenic, even for us. Once underneath and through the doorway, I followed the woman to the right, down a carpeted hallway. We must have left soiled hoof-prints on their carpeting, I thought. That’s the problem with disembarking your spaceplane over grass. Oh well, their security-concerns took precedence. I followed slowly behind the woman. She quickly outpaced me, then stopped halfway down the hall. Turning around, the woman held her left hand at forty-five degrees, gesturing for me to enter whatever room was there. I would spend a few hours in the room while the envoys were doing envoy-things.
Meanwhile, all-hell broke loose in the great hall. I didn’t see or hear anything. Nor did I receive a telepathic alert.
Two minutes later, I reached the doorway to the room where I was supposed to wait. I turned to my right, ducked low, and walked into my metal box. The door closed behind me.
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November 12, 2011 The room was distinctly more Spartan than I expected. I thought that I’d at-least be deposited in a small dining-room. Instead, my “room” was the metal-box that I described at the beginning of this story. Some blankets were thrown slapdash against the corner. I didn’t jump to any conclusions though. After half-an-hour, I began suspecting a trap. After about an hour, I tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t let me out. I knocked. An hour later I knocked again. Soon after, I felt the box being extradimensionally moved. I was in for a spaceplaneride to some other planet of the Hominids’ choosing. The urine bottle, dustpan, and dust-brush were hidden underneath the blankets. I have been in this box for the last three days.
The box was almost-certainly loaded onto a deep-time spaceplane. Two days of travel to me, times twenty real-days per day inside the ship, and I could have been transported a thousand galaxies away.
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EIGHT DAYS AGO I trudged exercise-weary up the bitumen-path to my house. I had just finished an hour-long nature-walk along “The Garden Path”. It meandered down the hill from my front door, into a valley near a brook, up to a small ridge, down a bit, and then back up to my house. My house wasn’t at the apex of the path; it was one of many upper middle-class houses along the walk. I was just-about the only person in my neighbourhood that actually used the walk though. My house was co-owned by my sister, and her two nieces. It was a large log-cabin house, three-quarters of the way up a forested hill. The house wasn’t quite a log cabin. It used log-cabin construction techniques, but the logs were milled into mostly-even capped-elliptical lengths. One of the walls in the house was authentically made of whole-logs with white chinking, but that was mostly for effect. I entered the house through the extra-wide front door. The house’s interior was one large void, two-stories high, with a gabled ceiling. The beams were exposed. To my right, a staircase attached to the wall of the trapezoidal building, climbed to a mezzanine. Below the mezzanine, in front of me, was a kitchen, where one of my nieces was preparing some food. Beyond the kitchen was a storeroom and toilet. To the right of the storeroom’s doorway, was a door that led to a separate bedroom pod, where my sister and her two nieces slept. The mezzanine half-floor had a toilet, as well as a television and piano room. I slept up there. My other niece was sitting at our large mahogany-table, in front and to the left of me. My niece’s homework-papers were sprawled-out in front of her. “Good morning,” I greeted semi-formally, since this was the first time I had seen them today. 714 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Both my nieces looked-up briefly and replied, “Hi, |auhh”. (“|auhh” is pronounced with a glottal thump/plosive (the “|”), followed by a highly aspirated “au”, and an expelled breath, “hh”.) Hanging on the wall to the left of the table, was a small dining-room television. The morning news was showing, attracting my attention. The television was too-small for me to see clearly, and the volume was a too-low for understanding, but I could see and hear enough to get the gist: War was upon us. Hominoid militaries had already invaded dozens of our planets. People were being evacuated. A scene of pandemonium was shown, most-likely a queue for an evacuation-spaceplane. Crying children were shown. A clip of menacingly-hovering Hominid battleships was next. A video of a few explosions in the sky was displayed. There were no nukings yet. “Father,” spoke my niece in the kitchen, even though I was her uncle. I was ceremonially shoehorned into the role of father and big-brother, by my elder sister, and her two children, depending on their whims. “Telephone call,” she alerted. “I’m on my way.” In a male-Elk stately pace, I walked into the kitchen, behind the counter. My niece handed me the phone: “Hello, |auhh speaking.” That’s when I learned that I needed to pull-out my ceremonial garb, get a taxi-ride to the local airport, and make my way to the sub-capital. From there, three envoys and I were to-be flown to meet with the Hominids.
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THECO AS A HOSTAGE
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thecodontosaurus)
The illustration is misleading. Thecos’ skin-colour is less saturated than I have painted. Their skin-colour is a “smooth” colour (like moss), while their feathers are spectrographically “sharp” colours (like LEDs). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_spectrum, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Light_emitting_diode)
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November 12, 2011
FAREWELL DINNER The sunken table was set. All of the cutlery, glasses, and plates were arranged. Half of the food was already laid out. Our dining-room, living-room, and kitchen were combined into one large 40-meter by 40-meter one-story room, all open, with no support posts. The room’s ceiling was a pyramidal roof with a 2.14-degree angle. The floors were white marble-like stone. The ceiling and concrete walls were painted white. Arched windows ran along the east wall, looking out onto our vineyard. The west wall (where the sun rose) had double glass-doors looking onto a patio, and six arched-windows looking beyond, to our mandarin-orange orchard. The kitchen was on the north. The south-wall had arched-windows near the corners, and a centred entryway to the sleeping-adjunct. It was night. Fake-candles illuminated the dining-room table. Wall sconces with fake candles highlighted the walls, and provided ambient lighting. The dining-room table was on the east side of the room, somewhat north of centre. It was placed in a marbled sunken-depression, about half a meter deep. The table occupied the entire area of the depression, except for a “run-around” wide enough for leg room, or for a child to stand in. The tabletop stood about half a meter above the floor level. It was “glass”, subdivided into sixteen one-meter sections that could easily be lifted-out and cleaned. Special-occasion kneeling cushions were placed around the table’s depression, ready for our family to kneel-down and dine. I ferried just-out-of-the-oven hot food to the table, a plate full of archaeopteryx legs, about the size of turkey legs. They had been marinated and cooked in vinegar, then glazed with honey, and baked until golden brown.
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November 12, 2011 Our Raptor servants usually did the cooking, dining set-up, and cleaning. Since this was a special occasion, we did all of the work ourselves... Except that Chin, who was (and is) an exceptional cook, prepared the food for us, and left us instructions on how to bake the dishes. (Theco are evolved from thecodontosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thecodontosaurus. Raptors are evolved from velociraptors, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor.) I next laid out the hard-boiled emu-eggs, cut in half, and salted with paprika. A spray of light-oil prevented them from drying-out and turning colour. (We have smaller Emu’s than those on Earth-Sol.) The sticky sweet-potatoes with cumin were already on the table. Just to double-check: The red wine, our own, was already in a carafes. Everything was ready. I walked to the double glass-doors on the west wall, and opened them up. People were outside talking. “The food is ready everyone!” I loudly spoke, with celebration in my voice. Our family and friends walked in. They ogled the food, and took places (kneeled) by the table. My niece hopped-down into the depression. She couldn’t reach the table when kneeling, so she’d eat standing... which was no inconvenience. We often stood for hours on end. Someone put on bird-song “music”: “Finches and Larks, Volume III” We all proceeded to eat, building-up a conversation as dinner progressed. “So, are you ready for your interviews?” asked my mother’s friend. I smiled and squinted, and nodded. “I’m nervous. I don’t know what to expect.” “When we were on the patio, your mother was telling me about your interviews. Do you know why the Horses are going to interview you?” 718 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “No.” Pause. “What are they like?” “We have certain dis-agreements with them. We have been at war with them a few times.” I was going to answer with a question when my niece interrupted with, “Buh-buh,” for the sweet-potatoes. One of my mothers pushed the potatoes towards my niece, and helped her spoon them onto her plate. I returned to the conversation. “What would they expect of me?” “Expect a sharp grilling from them. They will see if you harbour any resentment towards their species.” I mentioned the other races that were supposed to interview me. “The large Tyrannosaurs are also going to interview me.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus) My mother’s friend nodded. “They’re to be expected there.” “And maybe the Eora[ptors].” (Eora are evolved from Eoraptors, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eoraptor.) My two mothers were also paying attention. One commented, “The list is ***flexible***. They will spring surprises on you.” My mother’s friend shifted the conversation. “This conflict seems to be deeper than the news portrays.” My mother didn’t seem to have told her friend everything. “Yes,” I answered, “The work-position I am interviewing for is as a liaison for the wall-formation, which will soon be coming through.”
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November 12, 2011
PROPERTY WALK-AROUND I awoke just after sunrise the next morning, the finches calling to one-another. My hangover wasn’t that bad, just a slight headache. We had talked and dined for two hours. Our guests left. Half-an-hour to clean the table and load the dishwasher, and we all went to bed. My niece would be cranky today.
My bed was a futon mattress, set in a half-meter-deep depression in the room’s white marbled-floor. My bedroom was 5-meters by 5-meters, with the same architectural style as the living room, but with a skillion roof. The bedroom’s eastern wall had double glass-doors leading outside. Opposite the doors was a 5-meter “S” privacy-hallway leading into the foyer-hallway. All of our bedrooms were off-of the foyer-hallway. The house’s massive wooden double-door entryway was on the south wall. The foyer-hallway’s north well led to the main-room. In my bedroom, I rolled onto my stomach and stood up. I stepped up, and out of bed. It was a crisp, sunny morning, about 18-degrees Celsius. The temperature would get up to 25-degrees Celsius today. I walked-out into the foyer-hallway, and entered the bathroom to my right. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and comb-picked my head-feathers and arm-feathers. The previous week, I had my feathers cut into a short business-like style at the salon. I had been growing my feathers longer for fashion reasons, but the testing changed everything. A business-style was necessary. My clothes hung in the bathroom wardrobe. I selected a deep-red vest to compliment my orange-red feathers. If I had been out-of-feather, I might have gone for a blue vest. My skirt was a cool yellow, with cream-coloured floral embroidery. A Raptor servant walked past as I exited the bathroom. 720 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I turned-right from the bathroom door into the main-room. On the way, I glanced at the dried-reed pot-decorations to make sure they were free of cobwebs. A bowl of fruit was placed on the kitchen-counter. I ate two melon-grapes there, and carried one with me as I walked-out onto the patio. The double glass-doors had already been opened by the servants. The yellow sun had just risen above the mandarin-orange trees. I popped the melon-grape into my mouth. A beetle buzzed by my head. One last look-around before my trip. After several weeks of planned interviews, I expected to be assigned directly to a spaceplane, without first returning home. My job would be to travel around with a delegation and smooth-out issues that arose on Saurian planets. Theco are very-good intermediaries, much better in the role than other Saurians. We do our best to understand what people’s issues are, on all levels, and on all sides. I had an “Intermediary” degree from the local university, as well as eight years of experience managing our villa and orchards. Though I didn’t need to inspect and manage the orchards today, I couldn’t NOT manage them out of habit. I only had a few hours left of my old life. I walked towards the western morning-sun, into the mandarin-orange orchard. Ripe-mandarins were already being harvested by Raptor servants. A Raptor-woman was picking mandarins from the tree, and placing them into a diagonal shoulder-bag she was carrying. “Hello,” I politely greeted her. “Morning, ma’am”. I walked past her. 721 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She continued to pick fruit. Another worker was ahead, but since she was in a different row, I didn’t need to greet her. About twenty mandarin-trees further along my walk, and I entered the coffee orchard. Our coffee bushes formed an “L” that hemmed-in the mandarin-orange orchard. The coffee-beans were still green, just ripening. They would be picked after the mandarin-orange season was finished. I wandered around the coffee-bushes for awhile. I usually enjoyed this. The bushes were arranged maze-like to maximize their yield and quality. Because the servants were working on the mandarin trees, the coffee grove was still and quiet. The birds had also quieted-down. I soaked-in the sound of grasshoppers whizzing around. Further along, we had enough grapes to make a few-thousand bottles of wine, as well as grapes for eating: Small red-purple grapes, and lime-green melon-grapes. Beyond the grape-lines were the servants’ housing, small bungalows with communal showers. I never followed the same morning path. As an orchard manager, part of my job was to look for weeds, termite nests, plants that needed pruning, fallen grape-suspension fencing, and any other unnoticed work-items. Today, I didn’t walk all of the way to the grape-lines. I turned-right just before the grape lines. This allowed me to enjoy another half- kilometre of slow meandering inand out of the coffee-shrub maze, until I came to our crushed-rock driveway. On the other side was of the driveway was a mowed lawn. Many people kept sheep on their lawn. We didn’t, because sheep smell too-much, and they continually bleat. We didn’t need the sheep, since we had enough meat to trade. Beyond our servants’ housing were our cattle. Our archaeopteryx shed was in the opposite direction. Looking towards the house, I could just-see the shed’s roof beyond the orchards.
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November 12, 2011 I walked onto the low-cut lawn. My bare-feet enjoyed the feel of the spongy soil. I considered lying down for a last roll in the grass, but that would mess up my clothes. Instead, I stood for a short bask in the sun. I might not get a good sun-bake for awhile. After fifteen minutes of exposing my arms, I turned around so the back of my head would receive some sun. Its skin would be healthier that way.
While I am writing this, Hominids are mind-reading the description of the villa and farm from Mike, trying to locate it on my planet (out of millions), and threatening to spray my orchards with pesticides, or to release pests, or to blow-up the main house. To add to that, the Hominids have suddenly-and-hypocritically become vehemently anti-slavery. Theco have slaves who are treated slightly better than the Aussie slaves. Aussies treat their slaves much better than the Hominids, approximately two Earthstandard-deviations better.
SPACEPLANE TO THE TESTING My taxi arrived at the scheduled time. My two sisters and my niece saw me off to the airport. The 20-kilometer trip wound through orchards and woods. I was driven directly up to a small triangular commuter-plane, sitting on the tarmac. It was about 20-meters long. The spaceplane would take me to the testing building-complex, where I would meet representatives from the other races. After paying my driver, I climbed-up some movable stairs, and boarded the spaceplane via the centre-door on the flat side. The spaceplane was one floor, with 723 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 50-ish business-class seats. Horizontal oval-windows lined the walls at eye-height, providing a view. I stowed my bags in the half-height cabinets built-against the flat side. I was the first person aboard, about half-an-hour before the door would close. I sat, and watched as other people boarded. I might have known them; our community was small. Some of them might be my competitors at the interviews. About twelve other people boarded, most of them Theco, but some of them were Raptors. In the end, I didn’t recognize any of them. Not all of the people would be travelling to “the testing”, either.
From what I knew of the testing, our permanent records were to be scrutinized. Our minds were to be thoroughly read. We were going to be tested against our instantreactions to different races, as well as longer-term reactions. The Four-legged Horses, I heard, were some of the most-abusive interviewers. Unannounced races might also show-up to test us. They would be selected to stir antagonistic-feelings in us. The individuals might-well role-play a hostile persona to test our reactions. I hoped they wouldn’t put me in front of a Raptor male; I hated them. They reeked. And they abhorred the Theco, especially landowners like me. And they were SCARY when they became upset. Some of what I had heard-and-read about the interviews must have been intentional misinformation. Surprise elements would undoubtedly be included, testing our unplanned reactions.
A flight attendant closed the door. The flight would be a short half-hour trip, only travelling a few stars over.
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November 12, 2011
I didn’t expect to be returning home after the interviews. I had enough clothes for a couple-week-long trip. I would purchase whatever clothes I needed. I might be provided a few uniforms made by a seamstress. In a multiracial society, everyone’s shape was completely different. Clothing stores don’t make sense. The work I was interviewing-for was supposed to be as a liaison-officer between the coordinating races, and people (mostly Saurians) on various planets. Some of the coordinating races would be frightening-looking. Or, the coordinating-races might have been in conflict with the planet’s population in the past. As a liaison, I would act as a marionette “video-phone” on behalf of the coordinating races. They would walk, move, gesture, speak, listen, and see through me. If any of the configuration-militaries needed to land on a planet, I might be calledupon to minimize the number of indigenous people who would have to meet (and be frightened by) the militaries. Languages would not be a problem because I would have language-translator implants installed. Theco are very-capable speakers, and can verbalize most languages. Telepathy was expected to work also, though it could be less-reliable than speaking.
Meanwhile, the spaceplane had taken off. Through the windows I could see a brightlit fog. The sky then darkened as we passed into another space. We wouldn’t need to enter hyperspace for this trip.
A weird field-feeling.
Blank. 725 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PRISON CELL Discomfort. Why is my head leaning-against a grey-steel wall? Gravity was also wrong. Was I going to fall-off the wall if I moved? Maybe. I didn’t move.
My tongue was very dry.
Several minutes later...
I rechecked my assumption about falling off the wall by moving my arm. No problem. I didn’t fall off anything.
I slowly propped myself up with my right arm. The wall turned into an angled floor. 726 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Two minutes later...
I looked around. I was lying-on the floor of a prison cell, about 2-meters by 2-meters. The wall by my feet had a 1-meter wide barred prison-door. A grey-steel bench was in the corner.
A few minutes later...
I rolled onto my stomach, kneeled up, and then stood-up. The floor still seemed to be angled.
Across the hallway, I could see another prison-cell like mine. It was empty.
I didn’t think to think who I was.
The barred door didn’t open. To the right, was a third prison cell, also empty. To the left was a long hallway.
Why was I in prison? 727 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This wasn’t a Theco prison. What had happened? I had just boarded the taxi.
“One of them is awake,” telepathed an Aussie. “Don’t worry,” he continued. “We have you in temporary detention. Refreshments will NOT be served on this flight.” “Click,” was a telepathed word.
(I was just informed: One of the other interviewees woke-up soon afterwards, and thought she was being tested as part of the interview. The Aussies verballymockingly-abused her for hours thanks to the misconception.)
How did I get from the taxi to here?
Distraction...
I looked around the room to see what I could find. It was empty of everything except for a grey-steel bench. What was I wearing? I looked over my attire.
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November 12, 2011 I was in my underwear. The thought that I should be embarrassed by being only in my underwear flitted across my mind.
I remembered boarding a spaceplane. I might-have recalled it taking off.
I telepathed a demand to speak to a lawyer. I was thumped with a chuckle, followed by a click.
I checked my telepathy implants to see if anyone-else (non-hostile) was aboard. Some people were above me, but communication was blocked. Communications to the outside were also blocked. I was fairly certain I was in a large spaceplane.
Bastards.
Who had kidnapped me? I vaguely recalled the telepathic message from minutes before: Aussies. Did it make sense that they would kidnap me? Of course it did. They were the same as the Hominids, just a few-hundred-thousand years older. They would be allies, if not co-partners, in this war. I hadn’t heard about them being at our end of the taurosphere though. They were in concentrations up top, and to the north-east. 729 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Why would they kidnap me? They might have been pirating arbitrary spaceplanes to acquire money-valuable hostages. The spaceplane I was in was very low-tech, and easy to grab. I may have specifically been targeted for my ransom value, which might be a fewmillion dollars. We might have been shot down by the Hominids. The Aussies may have salvaged our space-floating bodies. Our group may have been targeted so we couldn’t reach the interviews, costing our side resources. Or we could be taken hostage for interrogation purposes. It was unlikely we would be taken as slaves. Both the Aussies and Hominids preferred mammalian slaves.
I thought through each of these possibilities, and tried to figure out how to minimize the negatives. If I were taken hostage for money, I wouldn’t be ransomed. Ransom-payments weren’t allowed by this war’s agreements. If the Hominoids took me as a prisoner-of-war so I couldn’t act as an envoy for the configuration, then I’d be stuck in some internment camp for years. I would have to make myself useful-enough that I didn’t end up in a chain-gang. The same conclusions held if the Aussies just happened to wander by our destroyed spaceplane and collect our floating bodies.
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November 12, 2011 Would I get rescued? Not likely. The war encompassed the entire Saurian zone at our end of the taurosphere. Shit! I realized that the Aussies could transport me all of the way to the Aussie zone at the far end of the tauro-taurosphere. I could be there for years. What did the Aussies do with Saurians when they caught them? I didn’t know. Hominids were known to torture us, and/or enslave us into hard labour.
What were my other options?
If I were very compliant, the Hominoids might not be too-harsh on me. If I was ornery, they were more-likely to chain-gang me, but they were also morelikely to kill me. If I were killed, I, without my body, would be returned home.
Crap.
I eventually lay-down. The steel bench/bed wasn’t long-enough for me to sleep on, so I laid-down on the floor. I fell asleep, my head next to the door.
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November 12, 2011
THE MANSION
|AUHH: MEASURING UP The door opened timidly. Fresh air entered. I was sitting down opposite the door, my back to the wall, and knees up. I expected to be handed some food, and then to have the door shut again. Instead, the black-haired Hominid-man wedged the door open with a rubber door-wedge. He stepped back, and cautiously motioned for me to step out. I stood up, and walked out slowly so as not to frighten him. I had to duck my head when walking through the doorway. The reception-mansion hallway was gone, as I somewhat expected. The box had been a clever capture-and-transportation trick. I was now in a fluorescent-bulb-lit hallway constructed of foam-concrete walls. The construction was rather cheap. When not a hostage, I was normally a building engineer. Unlike the very-long hallway from before, this new hallway was about 8-meters long, with a stairway going up to the left. The Hominid man was stairwards, a few meters away from me. He motioned for me to follow as he backed up. He was clearly nervous about my size. I followed at a slower pace than my usual gate, slowing down even-more as the man backed his way up the concrete staircase. The staircase didn’t have any handrails. Regulations usually stipulated handrails on both walls. And the steps were too short; it was like walking up a children’s staircase. The man looked as though he thought he were taming a wild beast. 732 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I followed the man up, into a kitchen. A small white-tiled kitchen-counter was on the wall opposite me. Double glass-doors opening onto a very-short brick patio were to my right. The windows were divided, which was unusual for Hominid buildings. We Elk always used divided windows to ensure that people wouldn’t walk through them when they didn’t see their reflection in the glass... which is a character-flaw caused by the laws of reflection, combined with eyes designed more for looking left-andright than forward. A small kitchen-table had been pushed to one side. Three blue-clad guards stood around, holding their truncheons. They must have had guns somewhere behind their backs. The dark-haired man stood out fashion-wise. He was dressed in a whitish buttondown shirt with dark-brown trousers. He wore an oak-leaf-brown vest. All of Hominid men looked VERY nervous. What did they want me to do? The black-haired man stood opposite me. He had obviously been “volunteered” for the task. He very-intentionally looked at his vest and unbuttoned it. He pointed to me. “No telepathy?” I telepathed. No answer. What did he want me to do? I thought about his recent actions for a moment, and then Elk-smiled. I also unbuttoned my vest. I was tempted to point back at him, but decided that the situation wasn’t funny enough to warrant a joke. The dark-haired man took-off his vest, and set it on the kitchen counter.
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November 12, 2011 So, I took-off mine, and set it on the table. If we were playing “undress”, not only was he the wrong gender, but he was cheating. He still had a shirt underneath his vest, and I was now skin-only on-top. I hoped he wasn’t playing “undress”. Sure enough, he was. Looking a bit embarrassed, he undid his pants, and then took them off. Sigh. I wasn’t wearing any underwear like he was. Should I be obstinate and make him expose himself like he was going to do to me? Two-thirds of Elk males, the immature ones, had hacked-themselves to death with scimitars several-thousand years ago. I unlatched my baggy pants, took them off, and stood proudly naked. The black-haired man looked very uncomfortable at this point. He next spread his arms horizontally, and spread-apart his legs a bit. I did the same, as well as my joint-flexibility would allow. Hominids have moreflexible joints. One of the guards cautiously approached with a measuring tape. He nervously measured my arm-length, hand size, chest, and legs... And even my privates. I wasn’t sure why I was being measured, but the last item went a bit too-far. Perhaps they wanted to sew me some new clothes. After I was measured, I was led out the doorway on my left, across a hallway, and into a laundry room.
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November 12, 2011 The men didn’t hand-me my clothes back. My clothes disappeared from the kitchen while I was in the laundry. Inside the laundry-room, I was handed a sandwich and a water-bottle. To emphasize my displeasure, I made sure the Hominids were watching while I unscrewed the blueplastic water-bottle top with my teeth. The men watched nervously as I ate. They led me out of the room when I had finished eating. I tried to hand the empty water-bottle and wax-paper back to a guard, but he backed away. My left lip pulledback in dismay. I set the empty bottle and wax-paper on a shelf in the laundry. Ducking my head a few times, I was led back into my cell. Someone had obviously been a zookeeper. In my cell were two bottles of water and one-more sandwich. They were incentives for me to return to my cage. The urinebottle and dustpan had been emptied. The door closed behind me. I sighed.
WOONG: WAKING UP IN THE MANSION When I awoke after a few days of travel, I at-first thought I was in the same 2-meter by 2-meter cell. I was and I wasn’t. 735 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The cell-shape was exactly the same, except my new cell was made out of concrete. Given the mouldy wet-concrete smell, I must have been underground. Empty prison-cells were in front of me, and to my right. The hallway no-longer travelled west. Instead, concrete steps led up. I must have been extradimensionally pushed from a standard-shape cell in a spaceplane, into a terrestrial cell with the same shape. Where was I? Gravity seemed to be higher than normal. It was mildly humid. And chilly. The prison-door was still locked. My telepathy-signal was different. Telepathy had been muted before. Now telepathy was hostile towards me. When I tried telepathic communication, I was instantly negatively-reinforced with a thump. Should I call out verbally? I had been illegally taken prisoner, and then illegally transported, not-to-mention whatever happened to everyone else on the commuter spaceplane. I hadn’t had anything to drink or eat for days. These people weren’t law-abiding, and they certainly weren’t following the conventions of the war. By now, I should have met face-to-face with someone who would explain why I was detained. I decided to remain quiet. What did I now know about my circumstances? I had been transported to a planet, and imprisoned in a basement. 736 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Whoever did this had sufficient technology to capture the spaceplane I was on... which wouldn’t require much technology. They must have hauled us out of the spaceplane while we were unconscious, and placed us into prison cells. Most-likely, they captured the plane in a multi-level sphere with whole-level extradimensionaldecompression chambers. They had technology that extradimensionally pushed me from their spaceplane into this hostage-cell. How many years would I spend in this cell? I tried to telepathically seek-out other people from the spaceplane, but was rebuked with a telepathic-thump. Nothing happened for an hour. I decided to lie down. Within a few minutes of lying on the floor, I was asleep.
WOONG: MEETING THE HOMINID ACTORS I awoke a half a day later, as a guard’s keys jangled while he unlocked my prison-cell door. He was dressed in navy blue, wearing a helmet with a protective plexiglass visor. The door opened to the right, the guard standing safely behind it. I stood up, and looked at him officially. I tried telepathing to him. 737 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was blocked. What language would he speak? I hadn’t seen any of their writing, so I couldn’t guess. I didn’t know if any of my implants would translate any Hominid languages. They knew some Alotian languages, I think. Many Hominid languages were similar. What were my options? I could try to grab the guard... He winced when I thought this. He must have had telepathy turned on, and had been listening to my thoughts. I could bump up the security-encryption in my implants, but I didn’t bother. If I bumped-up the security too-much and/or too-often, Hominid communicationtechnicians would computer-hack into them and decrypt my thoughts anyway. I could stubbornly stay in the prison-cell. Or, I could go left. I considered the options for a minute, while glaring at the guard. I could even do a ballet twirl. That would confuse him. I decided to go left. I walked up the concrete steps, and entered a library. The library was panelled with plywood stained to look like it came from an entire tree. A dark wood-bookshelf with monochromatic (and dull-coloured) hardcover books was against the far wall. A divided window was to my left, overlooking a grassy-field. The wall to my right had light wood-panelling, a doorway, and a painting of a sailing ship. Two embroidered sofas were in the room, one against the bookshelf, and one to my left. Between the two was a wood-framed coffee-table with a glass top.
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November 12, 2011 Standing in-front of the doorway, just to the right of the bookshelf, was a guard in navy-blue, holding a truncheon. One stood in a doorway located in the right wall. A black-haired Hominid male stood on the opposite side of the coffee-table. He had just stood-up from a seated position. The black-haired man looked like he was in charge. He might not be. The guards were all nervous. What did they want with me? If I were a hostage, and this house was my accommodation, then I fared better than I expected. I might have been taken out of my cell to meet with someone. I certainly would like to know the Hominids’ legal justifications for the act of piracy, my being taken hostage, and prisoner abuse. Was the black-haired man some sort of government official? He motioned with his hand for me to sit down on the sofa. He sat down to emphasize the point. I tried to telepathically communicate with him. A negative thump came across, and then dead telepathic-silence. Theco cannot sit on sofas. Our tail isn’t flexible enough to bend between our legs. We can kneel, but not sit. We can recline, but out strong sternum limits our backbone’s flexibility. Without telepathy, and without knowing what language he spoke, or being able to speak it, how was anything going to be accomplished by this meeting? I thought for-a-moment about what I should do. I made an effort to try and sit down. The sofa cushion was spongy-enough that I could lean my tail against it, and not be in much discomfort. My leg-muscles held me in a Hominid sitting-position. 739 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The guards watched. On the table was a bottle of water, with a sky-blue screw-top cap, and a parcel wrapped with wax-paper. The black-haired man motioned with his hand towards the objects. The water was obviously water. Water went with food. The other package must be food. I hadn’t eaten food for a few days, not since my breakfast walk. I undid the wrappings. Sure enough, in the package was some bread, sliced in half. A thin slice of meat stuck out from between the two slices of bread. I unscrewed the bottle-top, and took a drink. It was water. Wasn’t he going to eat? Apparently not. I didn’t expect him to poison me with the food or water. There was no point in me trying the “both you-and-I eat and swap the food” technique, like I saw on television. I opened up the bread, picked up the meat with my fingers, and ate only the meatslice. The dark-haired man looked at me oddly. I was still hungry. I took minor-control of the situation. On the wax-paper, I drew the shape a grape with my fingernail: A circle with a stem. He might think it was a cherry. Or any sort of fruit. The Hominid man looked puzzled. I drew the grape again, and mimed me picking-up the invisible fruit and eating it. 740 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He seemed to understand my request. Telepathy would be so-much simpler. The man turned towards the guard by the door, and spoke something. The guard responded to the man with, “Niet.” The dark-haired man emoted an exasperated look, I think. I had watched gesturetranscribed Hominoid-television a few months before, to familiarize myself with their behaviours. He slapped his hands on his knees, an expression I didn’t know. The man stood up, and walked out the doorway. A minute later, he came back with an orange, a slice of rock-melon, and some-more slices of meat. I said “Thank-you” in my language, with a slight head-bow. After eating a few bites of the rock-melon, I offered the man some food. He took the opportunity to grab-and-eat a slice of rock-melon. Neither of us offered the guards any food. After finishing our light meal, the black-haired man pulled a small flat-panel videodisplay off the bookshelf behind him. He fiddled with it, pressing buttons to turn it on, and then play some video. I heard it play some tinny speech, before he placed the display on the table, upsidedown to him so I could see it. It was a 20-centimetre display, showing a video of Hominid-television. A television-commercial for laundry-detergent came on ten seconds later. The blackhaired man seemed annoyed with Murphy’s Law. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphy%27s_law) His hands momentarily jerked-forward to press the fast-forward button, so he could skip through the commercial. His hands stopped; he must have decided to let the commercial run its course. 741 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Should I laugh, or should I pretend to be interested in the commercial, or should I be interested in Hominoid laundry detergent, or should I be upset at being kidnapped, flown thousands of galaxies away in a prison ship, and then being sold soap products? I waited. He wouldn’t even know if I were laughing, would he. The Hominoid television-show resumed after two minutes of ads. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do at this point, or what I should understand about the show. The dark-haired man somewhat-answered my questions soon-afterwards. He pointed to a man on the video-display, and then to himself. And then he pointed back to the man on the display. And then the scene cut to a man with long sandy-hair, in a blue uniform, running across some rocks and shooting a gun. Murphy’s Law? A minute later, the dark-haired man reappeared on the television. The dark-haired man in the room pointed at the dark-haired-man in the video, and then back to himself. I got it! The video was of himself. Was he a news broadcaster, covering the war? If he were a news broadcaster, why would he kidnap me to interview me? Why was I chosen as an interview candidate? The dark-haired man left the video on the table, and walked out of the room, towards where the kitchen was.
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November 12, 2011 I alternated between watching the video, and waiting for him to return with more food. The video didn’t look like a news broadcast, since it alternated between the darkhaired man, some other civilian-Hominids, and war scenes. Did the Hominid newschannels spend that much time covering the war here? The video didn’t seem like a news broadcast. Our news was interrupted every five minutes to cover weather conditions on various parts of the planet. I hoped to see a weather report so I could learn what planet I was on. The weather never interrupted. The black-haired man returned a few minutes later. I was watching an interesting commercial about Hominid diapers. Our infants didn’t need diapers. He returned carrying a large black box-like-thing that could have been a weird lasercannon. He held it up, resting it on his shoulder. Our laser cannons were usually held to our sides. He pointed it at me, and clicked some buttons. I was waiting to feel radiation. I MAY have felt some radiation, but I couldn’t tell. He then pressed a button, and dismounted the laser-cannon from his shoulder. I should have been dead... if it were a laser cannon. Why would they drag me thousands of galaxies to test their latest laser-cannon on me? The man rotated the cannon around, and showed me the targeting display. It was playing a video of myself. Dual-function laser-cannons might exist, or the device might just-be a very low-tech video-camera. He must be television reporter, I concluded.
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November 12, 2011 How should I let him know that I understood that he was a television newscaster? I pointed at my own image on the video-camera, and then back at myself, and then back at the video-camera’s display. I tried to smile with my mouth, but that didn’t work. We can’t smile Hominid-style. What was next, the interview? It hadn’t occurred to me that an interview was impossible given the language barriers and lack of telepathy. The Hominid man held up his hand, and twisted his forefinger and thumb into a circle, which was a rude gesture to me. I noticed him simultaneously smile, so I concluded he wasn’t trying insult me. The man stood up, and walked towards the stairs leading to my former prison-cell. He motioned for me to follow. Sigh. I hoped that I wouldn’t be placed back in prison. I stood up, and followed him down the stairs. He pointed to the cell. It now contained a bucket and a blanket. How could I gesture, “Why?” I looked at him a moment, head tilted. He began looking nervous. The guard behind me stepped-forward a pace. Very well. I walked into my prison-cell and stood, facing the prison-cell door, and whoever was going to close the bars on me.
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November 12, 2011 I later concluded that the bucket was a very-small toilet.
|AUHH: FILMING IN THE KITCHEN The next morning, at least that was my guess, the box’s door opened and let-in fresh air. I had heard voices above for a few hours yesterday, and then silence for half a day. The voices returned an hour ago. I expected another sandwich and water, and then a closed door. Instead, I was gestured outside the door by the black-haired man. He must have been the person in-charge of talking to me. I very-slowly followed him up the steps. Maybe I would be fed in the kitchen… er… laundry again. In the kitchen, a T-shirt dressed-man, somewhat bald, was carrying a very-large video-camera, held pointing-down at his side. The kitchen counter had some fruit on it, as well as some green stuff. Several blue-clad guards stood around, looking nervous. Perhaps my naked maleness made them nervous. Clothes would be nice. The dark-haired man walked over to the kitchen counter. He waved me over. I approached slowly, making-sure to stand off to his side, so I wouldn’t frighten him. He cut some celery, into lengths, with a knife. He then backed away, and pointed to the celery. 745 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Should I take the big uncut piece, or one of the smaller pieces? The smaller pieces would be more socially-appropriate, and less rude. I decided to pick up a small piece, and eat it. After munching down the sliver, I looked at the dark-haired man for approval. He stared blankly… as far as I could tell. It sure would be nice if they turned telepathy on. The man didn’t seem to mind, so I grabbed another small piece and ate it. I looked back at him. I couldn’t read his facial gestures. He didn’t seem to disapprove. I took the uncut half-stalk of celery and munched at that, while looking at him. The dark-haired man began waving his hands horizontally back-and-forth at midheight. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Unexpectedly, he walked up to me, and handed me the knife. That was a bit odd. I intentionally hadn’t picked-up the knife because it might frighten him. Oh well, he handed it to me; the instruction was clear. I could barely grasp the knife though. It had the wrong handle on it, for Elk-me. The man then rearranged the celery on the cutting board, and guided my hand to chop up the celery. I was confused. Was I being trained in cooking? I turned towards the counter and began cutting the celery into like-sized lengths. I had done this before, but usually with carrots and parsnips. 746 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The man with the camera spoke something to the black-haired man in a Hominid language, and then gestured at me. The black-haired man walked up to me, as if to hug me, but he then changed his mind. He walked around me, to the cameraman’s side, and pushed me a little bit. Pretend-horse now? I stepped right, as his push directed. Three seconds later, the dark-haired man pushed at my hips to rotate them. Interesting. I rotated where he wanted to rotate me. He seemed pleased with my new orientation. I am right-handed. From my left side, he reached over, and led my right-hand to resume cutting. I resumed cutting, while looking at him quizzically. The black-haired man walked back to the corner of the room, in front of the window. The cameraman, whom I hadn’t paid much attention to before, lifted the camera to his shoulder, and videoed me. Hmm… Maybe they were going to video me cutting celery to prove that I was a valuable slave. When I finished cutting the celery, the cameraman didn’t stop filming me. I turned to the black-haired man, my assigned liaison, to ask if he also wanted the fruit cut. I couldn’t ask though, because telepathy was blocked. I picked up a small orange and showed it to him. 747 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I think he smiled. I don’t know. I began slicing-up the orange. I had never cut-up (or eaten) an orange before. I have since been informed that oranges should be cut into quarters or eighths, not thin slices. I briefly looked at the camera. I could slice another orange for the cameraman, but decided that a banana would provide more variety. I had never eaten a banana before. I cut the banana into thin slices, including its skin. At this point, the cameraman and dark-haired man began laughing. I knew what a laugh was. I chuckled in sympathy, even though I didn’t know why my actions were funny. The men eventually allowed me to eat all of the fruit and celery that I had cut up. And a sandwich. I should have sliced-up more. Once again, I ended up in the box in the basement. With my current caloric-intake, I was going to starve-to-death in a month. Didn’t the Hominids understand that I, weighing 125 kilograms, couldn’t survive with so-little food? A small sandwich, orange slices, orange rind, banana slices (without the rind), and two sticks of celery weren’t enough.
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November 12, 2011
WOONG: FILMING IN THE LIBRARY A small circulation-fan in the basement-dungeon cut into my hearing. After the Hominids locked me back in prison, I could hear speech above, too quiet to identify phonemes. Awhile later, the upstairs lights were turned off, and the house’s front-door closed. I fell asleep. Sometime the next morning, the house’s front-door opened. There were occasional conversations. A bit later, more talking, and then some Hominid laughter. Half an hour later, a guard walked down and handed me a bundle of cloth through the bars. Another blanket? I could use one; it was chilly on the floor last night. I opened up the bundle. Some trousers fell out. I was left holding a shirt. I picked up the trousers and put them on the bench. The guard had left. The shirt was really weird. It had pointy stiff metallic-cloth shoulder-adjuncts. Most of the fabric was a sparkly purple. I checked-out the pants. They were half-height, dark olive-green. Hominids had no dress sense. Did they expect me to wear this for their interview? Sigh.
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November 12, 2011 I put-on the shirt. I might as well be going to a costume party; I dressed-up like a butterfly when I was eight. The pants didn’t fit. They were designed for Hominids. There was no-place for a tail. My tail was quite sizable. I took the pants off, and held them ready to show to whoever was in-charge of clothing. I wasn’t completely naked below; I still had my blue-lycra underwear on, and the long costume-shirt. Half an hour later, the guard returned and opened the barred-door. He, of course, stood safely behind the rightward-swinging door. I was funneled-up the stairway. I walked up the stairs, holding the wrong-species pants in front of me, to make them obvious. The dark-haired man was there, along with a man with long sandy-hair, and a balding man with a camera, and four guards (one behind me). The room wasn’t large enough for all of the people. The dark-haired man saw me holding the pants, and motioned for me to put them on. Still no telepathy. I sarcastically complied with his request. When the pants wouldn’t pull-up over my tail, I turned around and pointed to the problem. That would have been a very-rude gesture in my culture. In this case, it was merely a sarcastic, “You have no clue what you’re doing, don’t you?” When I turned around to face the Hominid man, it was obvious he had gotten the point. (“Point” is a homonym in our language for “tail”, so there’s your first Saurian pun.) I tried putting the pants on backwards, with the zipper underneath my tail, but the pants wouldn’t fit that way either.
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November 12, 2011 The dark-haired man eventually fetched some scissors, and cut a slit into the back of the pants for my tail. The pants now buttoned-up in front, but they kept falling down. I pointed this out to him. The sandy-haired man went to look for more parts-and-pieces, maybe for some string. He returned with empty hands. The dark-haired man had me test my pants to see how long they would stay up. My pants stayed up for at-least ten seconds, sometimes one minute. Apparently, that was good enough. The situation got even more-odd… The dark-haired man looked directly into my eyes, spoke a short phrase very-loudly, in an over-articulated manner. I wasn’t sure what I should do, so I watched and waited for more instructions. He spoke the same phrase again, and pointed his finger at me. I rotated and tilted my head into a question. We were playing a game of “Guess”? He grabbed-hold of his own lips, and pulled them as he reiterated the same phrase. I nearly laughed. This was a strange interview. What did he want me to do? I tried mimicking the phase. It came out about an octave lower than his voice. My voice was more resonant, with fewer formants. I was less-capable of pitch-inflection. The Hominid plosives and phoneme-transition speeds were difficult also. The black-haired man made the rude hole-gesture with his fingers at me. I must have done what he wanted. 751 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The cameraman lifted the video-camera onto his shoulders. It was time for filming. I looked the cameraman up and down, to measure his intentions and personality. The dark-haired man waved at me to attract my attention. He mouthed the words again. It took me a moment to ascertain what was going on. The dark-haired man wanted me to speak something in his language, to be recorded for the interview. A video-editor would later cut back-and-forth between video of him asking a question, and me answering. I had attended interview-class, so I knew what was expected. I looked straight at the camera, and spoke my line. The dark-haired man might be having me speak anything in his Hominid language. For all I knew, I could have repeated a sentence stating that we were all murdering scum. What was I going to do? What I did didn’t matter much, since no-one at home would be offended by a forced videoing. The cameraman continued filming me. The dark-haired man once-again hand-waved to attract my attention. After I turned towards him, he re-annunciated the phrase. I must have spoken the phrase incorrectly. Once again, I turned towards the camera and spoke my line. I then glanced back at the black-haired man for rude-gesture approval. I got the sign. I wondered what the next line was. The dark-haired man held out his arm at a 45-degree angle downwards, and spoke the line again. 752 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I looked at the camera, spoke my line, and performed the same arm motion. That didn’t make the black-haired man happy. He caught my attention and motioned his forefinger in an arc parallel to the ground. Did he want me to turn? I turned in the arc-path directed by his finger, positioning my body straight at him. He mouthed the words again, and held out his arm. They must want different camera angles, I thought. I spoke my line and held out my arm again, but this-time looking at him. When I held out my arm, he grabbed my hand and shook it up-and-down a bit. That was unexpected. I wasn’t sure what the hand clasping-and-shaking meant. The dark-haired man seemed pleased. We repeated the phrase and hand-clasping several times. By the sixth time, the cameraman had wandered around, and taken shots of the same phrase from different angles. After twelve takes, the dark-haired man decided I was finished for the day. He gestured-and-led me back into my prison cell. The pants didn’t fall off as I walked down to the cell. In my cell were two bottles of water, and one sandwich. Sigh. After the door closed, I ate the sandwich meat. I even ate one-quarter of the bread, before I thought about gagging. 753 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What were these people doing? An interview would take forever at this rate, and it would hardly be an interview. With some reflection and thought, I concluded that the team was mostlyincompetent. My thoughts then turned to more-serious matters: When was I going to get out of here? How would I ever be found?
|AUHH: FILMING IN HOEING THE GRASS After I was locked back-in my grey-steel box, I heard more conversations and walkings-about for a few hours. Night happened for the Hominids. My night was merely dimmer grey-ness. The Hominids returned in the morning. My door opened. They led me up, into the kitchen again. This time, I was allowed two bottles of water, but no food. A different cameraman was in the kitchen, along with three blue-clad guards. The cameraman led me outside via the double glass-doors, across the brick patio, and onto the lawn. The lawn was uncut ankle-high grass (for me), 20-centimeters high. I must have proven trustworthy-enough with the knife to be allowed a stroll outside. Besides, Elk can’t run, and the Hominid-slavers would know that. And even if I did 754 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 run, they could still shoot me running away. And if I ran after them to attack them with my MIGHTY bare hands, they could run away from me. The men walked me up to the ridge behind the house. When we reached the top, the cameraman stopped at a pre-planned location, and picked up a hoe. A hoe? My eyes rolled. If they were going to sell me, they could at least let me drive a tractor. Tractordriving Elk were more-valuable then ones with a hoe. I took a quick look around. Beyond the “mansion” stretched an enormous suburb with a city-centre about 20 kilometers away. The suburb swarmed all the way up to a road running in-front of the “mansion”. The mansion’s side of the road was grassland. The side of the ridge facing away from the mansion was un-built grassland. The hillside ran-down into a treed valley. A stream undoubtedly ran through the trees. The grass was permanently green. This planet obviously received plenty of regular rain. It would never have gotten above 22-degrees Celsius, and it would always be drizzly at night, with a slight chance of sun during the day. Perfect Elk country, actually. As requested, I picked up the hoe. Why was I filmed performing mundane, and now-pointless tasks? Under armed guard? Was I being videoed for a documentary on Elk slaves? I was much larger than their typical Elk slaves; I had watched enough Hominid-slavery documentaries to know that Hominids preferred smaller races of Elk. In the documentaries, enslaved Elk in the smuggled-videos always wore at-least loin-cloths. I was still naked… and being filmed naked. 755 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I began to hoe. I found it difficult to effectively grasp the hoe though. It needed special grips for Elk hands. The cameraman took up his camera, and filmed my exercises. I hoped they wouldn’t make me eat the grass I hoed up. By the time I was done for the day, I had hoed ten square-meters.
While being led back to the mansion, a hope arose in me that my implants might be able to more-effectively send an emergency signal while I was outdoors.
WOONG: FILMED REQUESTING ASYLUM The next afternoon, a guard came down to let me out. Noticing that I was still in my underwear, he pointed to the clothes on the bench and made a spinning motion with his hands. The guard walked back upstairs. He wanted me to put the clothes on. Within a few minutes, I had pulled the goofy costume-shirt over my head. I tore the back of the pants to expand the tail-cut. They fit better, but fell-off quicker. A bit of tape would have held the pants onto my waist, or even some safety-pins and yarn. The guard returned fifteen minutes later. Once he was safely on the other side of the right-opening barred-door, he let me walk up the stairs. I had to hold onto my pants so they wouldn’t fall off. 756 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The library coffee-table had been cleared away. A green-painted standing-box, about 50 centimeters-square by 15 centimeters-high was placed near one corner of the room. Three guards were mulling about, along with the black-haired man, and the balding cameraman. The black-haired man pulled his video-display off the shelf. He turned it on, pressed play, and handed it to me. In the video-display, I saw the sandy-haired man running-around a rocky hill. The video cut to the dark-haired man speaking something. Then I was shown speaking my line. The dark-haired man returned with his own line. (I hadn’t seen or heard him record either solo-line.) This was followed by a quick shot of me being led down into the prison cells. A commercial for toothpaste and automobiles followed, which interested me more. A further minute of dark-screen puzzled me. Was that all that I was going to be shown? Then the sandy-haired man returned on video, runningaway as zap-gun blasts flew past him. I filled in more hypothetical details about my situation: I had been kidnapped and flown several-thousand galaxies away to be a supporting cast-member in a C-grade movie.
As I write this, some Arthropod screenwriters are saying that this true-life story puts a new twist on the old twist of a movie being filmed within a movie. It even puts a twist on someone being kidnapped to be filmed in a movie. They are jokingly (I hope) figuring out how they can kidnap some Hominid actors, so the kidnapped Hominidactors can be cajoled into playing the director/actor-kidnappers in a movie about making a movie. The Arthropod screenwriters would themselves play the kidnapped arthropod actors who were supposedly kidnapped by the Hominid actors, who were the ones who would have actually been kidnapped. [Writer’s note – Make sure that clothing-articles on screenwriter-actors do not actually fall off. The kidnapped Hominid-actors pretending to be screenwriters should have their clothing fall off.] 757 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
My kidnapping would have been a tad expensive for these guys, at least a fewhundred thousand dollars. They wouldn’t have commissioned it. Perhaps I was kidnapped because of the interviews I was going to attend, or because I was wealthy. In those situations, the kidnappers would not have given me to a Cgrade movie-team. Maybe the kidnappers decided they weren’t going to get a ransom, and made-up for a loss by selling to me to the movie-team for pennies-onthe-dollar. Neither the black-haired man, nor the sandy-haired man, seemed comfortable with the idea of having kidnapped people on their set. Even at bargain prices, my impression of their personalities was that they wouldn’t ever think of purchasing hostages for their movie. They might have an unseen producer who thought that way, though. Would someone use the movie to embarrass me at home? They might. But, people from my culture would hardly see the forced-videoing to be embarrassing for me. It would be incredibly embarrassing for the Hominids. If embarrassment were the purpose of the movie-making, would the Hominids get me to make a fake confession? Most likely. Should I refuse to speak? If I became uncooperative, the director might replace me. One Theco would look the same as any-other Theco to them, even if we had different feather colors. If I were uncooperative, I would be transported to a rock quarry. Or, the Hominids might change their script, and video my actual torture for true-to-life acting and gore. I didn’t like the concept of torture. Interesting thought: My behavior could affect their script to a point. If I became toouncooperative, I would merely delay filming while they shipped me off, and purchased another Theco. If I acquiesced and did as they said, I should receive better treatment, avoid worse treatment, and eventually take partial-control of the situation. 758 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I decided to do as they told me, but to modify their instructions slightly in a direction of my choosing. The video had finished playing by the time I analyzed my new insights. I tried to Hominid-smile at the man, and handed-back the video player. After placing the video-display on the bookshelf, the dark-haired man stood-upon the box. I now understood the box. I was taller than the Hominid man. The box would enable face-to-face shots. We filmed several scenes that the day. There’s no point going into detail. My pants repeatedly fell-down. The dark-haired man and cameraman didn’t seem to mind as long as my pants stayed-up for the scene. While filming, I glanced out of the library window and noticed a few men on the ridge. Some of them were difficult to see because of their blue clothing. A whiteshirted cameraman was perceptible when he moved. I clearly-perceived a mammalian, with brown fur. He (or she) was bending over, performing some farmwork. The movie-crew must be filming several of us at once. Would I get to meet the other non-Hominid cast? That question led me to another: Were any of the Aussies that captured me involved in the movie? Or were they merely contracted slave-catchers? Which led me to another question: Why was I selected to be a supporting castmember? Did the Hominids have records of my speaking ability? Did the Hominids even know that we Theco were capable of speaking Hominoid languages, while most other Saurians were not? 759 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Did their database have a “cultural-embarrassment points” calculated-field that would determine what race and/or individuals would be most propaganda-effective in a C-grade movie? Was this movie a test for me, to see if I would be placed in a different role? Perhaps a role interacting with Hominid politicians? Perhaps the C-grade movie-filming was a façade intended to test my reactions. Mid-way through filming, the intelligent mammalian was walked down the ridge, and into an unseen part of the house. We stopped filming while door-opening, banging, and grunts were taking place. I think the mammalian was a Cow, and I think he was a he. They didn’t let him wear any clothes. A few hours later, I was led out of the library by the dark-haired man, flanked by the blue-guards. The next-room over was a sitting room. Then we came to the kitchen. It was very small, and cramped. The three rooms I had so-far been allowed to visit were all the same size. They all had doorways running to-and-from the next rooms in the sequence. They all had doors on the right; if the room’s right-door was opened, it revealed a hallway, with more rooms on the other side of the hallway. The hallway most-likely bisected the building. The rooms all had divided-windows on the left, or double glass-doors. The windows and doors overlooked the lawn, which was merely grass grown as long as it would ever grow. No-one had cut the lawn. Rather than a continue-on door, the kitchen had steps going down into a basement. A toilet-room door was left of the basement staircase. The dark-haired man showed me the toilet-room. He allowed me to enter and use it. They thoughtfully gave me privacy. The toilet was the wrong design for me, but I could squat around it if needed. Being a bit spiteful, I decided to not use their toiletgift then. My bucket would work. 760 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A shower would be nice. But requests by slaves cost “friendliness” points, so I’d holdoff on the shower-request for a day or two. The kitchen was bare, except for a table with some meat slices, and fruit on a plate. I was offered a chair. I indicated that I couldn’t sit down on a Hominid-chair properly. I instead stood at the table. The dark-haired man sat anyway, and then decided to stand. He picked-up some meat, and placed it on a sliced bun, which he had grabbed from the countertop. He began eating his conglomeration. I took some meat, rolled the slice up, and ate the roll. I grabbed some fruit, and offered an orange to one of the guards. They looked at the fruit as though I was offering them poison. I unpeeled the orange at ate it. The dark-haired man grabbed a water-bottle from the kitchen-counter, and give it to me. I thanked him, and drank from it. After eating, I was led down to my cell. I concluded that the dark-haired man was trying to be as nice as possible, given the situation. As I was being returned to my cell, the dark-haired man gave me a string that I could tie around my waist as a belt.
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WOONG: LUNCH WITH AN ELK I wasn’t filmed with the black-haired man the next day. He was still there, working as both actor and director. He led me into the kitchen. Sitting on an undersized chair was the mammalian slave from the day before. He was still naked, and he was most-obviously male. Even not naked, he would have-been obviously male. Not having seen many mammalians before, I thought he was Cowevolved, but as it turns out, he was an Elk. Antlers, horns, whatever. He had hooves. I may have seen an illustration of an Elk when I was nine, but I had seen many-more cows. A chair was pointed-out to me. I lifted my eyes up to emote, “Do these people not learn?” I pulled the chair aside, and didn’t sit on it. My thick tail wouldn’t allow me. I stood in-front of the table. There was a chance that my telepathy implants would talk to the Elk’s implants, but not to the Hominids’ implants. The Elk and Saurians might use the same system. I tried telepathing to the Elk, but I once-again received a negative thump. While I was observing the Elk, the cameraman pulled some large plates out of the refrigerator, and placed them strategically on the table. One plate had bread rolls, another held two kinds of meat, perhaps ham and archaeopteryx. A third plate held semi-randomly professionally-arranged fruit, including grapes. I eyed those. The Elk eyed the bread and the meat. We were given two plastic glasses to drink from, both filled with water.
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November 12, 2011 We would obviously be filmed eating today, slave to slave. The (relative) “feast” showed how well us-slaves were treated. After a week of below-minimum-calorie food-intake, I could do with the minor feast. My family fed our slaves much-better food, and we fed them on a daily basis. Actually, we fed them twice-daily. Besides the communal lunch-and-dinner buffets, we had a refrigerator stocked with food. I thought about the Elk-man. The Hominids most-likely fed him only grass-cubes. Using hand motions, the dark-haired man distracted us from gazing at the food. He spoke something to the cameraman, who then began filming. The filming was going to be annoying. We’d have to stop eating while the cameraman switched positions. The dark-haired man signaled-to-us that we could eat. I was quickest on the uptake. I first grabbed some meat, neatly rolled it up to eat – I was on camera after-all – and ate it relatively slowly, like I had seen in processed meat-sheet television-ads. Eyes wide-open, the Elk-male showed surprised at my alacrity. He hadn’t expected me to be so quick. He took a sandwich roll, bit-off a large chunk, and chewed, staring back at me. After my slice of ham, I grabbed a few small green-grapes and ate them slowly. The Elk had already finished his bread roll, and was now thumbing another-one open. The cameraman stopped recording, and lowered the camera to switch filming positions. I had a grape in hand. I popped it into my mouth, and stopped eating until the cameraman switched to the other side of us.
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November 12, 2011 The Elk ignored the cameraman’s side-swap, and placed some processed archaeopteryx and ham meat on his divided bread-roll. He had grabbed half of the meat that was on the plate! He began eating his construction. The Elk-man must not have perceived that the camera wasn’t filming. I kicked the Elk under the table, and puckered my lips to warn him of his faux-pas. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, I think. And then took another bite. With my head, I motioned to the cameraman, who was setting-up his camera on the other side of us. The Elk got it, and sat watching the cameraman, chewing. His construction was onequarter eaten by the time the camera began recording. The Elk took another bite as soon as the camera turned on. Since both the Elk and I desired the limited-resource of sheet-meat, I next grabbed two-more slices of processed-meat before he got-around to making another meatand-bread-roll construction. I didn’t drink my water until the end, the kitchen having less food than water. Given the sink, water was an unlimited resource. I certainly didn’t expect the Elk to drink my water after he had finished his. He had to drink water before I did though; his bread was thirst-inducing. The Elk-man picked up the plastic-glass with both hands. A single hoofed-hand couldn’t grasp the cylindrical glass. He would have preferred a mug-shaped glass, I suspected. After we finished our meal, we both received the rude-sign from the dark-haired man, indicating that we had done well. The Elk was led downstairs. 764 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was offered the toilet. I decided that since I was treated better, I would use their toilet today. I closed the toilet-room door for privacy. The guards were un-paranoid enough to not force the toilet-room door open. The Elk was NOT offered the toilet. With lunch-filming completed, I was led down to my prison-cell. I took off my costume. I tried to figure-out the movie-story so far. I was obviously a visiting envoy; the alienlooking clothing implied that. I wasn’t sure why I was filmed eating with an Elk-servant though. If I were an envoy, I should have been filmed eating with a Hominid. Or was I Saurian slave? Hominids didn’t keep Saurian slaves, except to torture with hard-and-useless work like rock-breaking. I wouldn’t have been given the sparkly-purple costume to wear if I were a slave. Maybe they wanted me to have a love-interest as an ambassador… but an Elk-slave seemed hardly likely. I would have expected a Hominid. Blech! I really didn’t want to entertain either thought. Maybe the Elk was loyal to the Hominids, and was going act as a slave-manager quasi-guard for me. If he was going to be my loyal-buddy, then why would we be filmed eating lunch? I couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together. Perhaps whoever-was-in-charge was trying to confuse me about to the Elk’s real role.
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|AUHH: FILMING A WALK I awoke when someone knocked on my box door. The Hominids were becoming more civil; they hadn’t knocked before. The door slowly-opened. I kneeled and then stood up, ready for another day of videoing. And a few more hours of fresh air. And a fifty-percent chance of being fed. It bothered me that I was still naked. I was intentionally getting ruder about my lack of clothing, as male-Elk can. What could I do as slave? Just comply with their instructions, and mock the Hominids when appropriate. Two blue-guards and a cameraman led me to the top of the ridge. The cameraman motioned for me to walk down the other side, so I did. I hadn’t been on a decent walk for a week. I repeatedly looked at the camera, annoyed. Nieces and sisters with cameras were bad enough. Full-grown men with large video-cameras who have enslaved you, kept you locked in a box, and who were now filming you naked, were even-more obnoxious. I walked down the hill in the direction that the man was pointing. The walk felt good. Maybe I’d get a chance to look at the stream. The Hominids stopped to let me squat on the open grassy-field. They weren’t going to let me use the toilet-room off the kitchen, were they. At least they stopped filming. 766 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Happily, the cameraman didn’t turn me away when I got closer to the trees. I could tell by his filming that he wanted me to walk into the wooded-area that surrounded the stream. I willingly complied. The trees around the stream were deciduous. The ground was covered with leaflitter only. There were no ferns. The entire planet must have once been covered with a similar forest. After a twenty-meter hike on virgin, spongy ground, we came across a gravel path. The cameraman had me follow the path left, as it tracked the small stream. Oddly, I found that walking naked on a public path was more-disturbing that being filmed naked on someone’s uncut lawn. I didn’t see anyone-else on the path. I was filmed walking one-hundred meters down the path. The cameraman motioned for me to veer off the path, back uphill. The two guards were winded by the time I left the path. The cameraman was fine. I didn’t offer to stop and let them rest. I accelerated my walking-pace up the hill, in an attempt to get the cameraman outof-breath also. By the time I got to the ridge, he was 20 meters behind, and the blueguards were 100 meters further back. While waiting for them to catch up, I scanned the suburbs. “Crap, there are a lot of them.” Sigh. Termite infestations came to mind. We Elk love wood houses, and fear termite infestations. When the men reached me at the ridge, they directed me back to the mansion. The mansion, I concluded, was just an expensive-looking but cheaply-constructed house. I took a slower pace returning to my box. Rather than being led directly inside, I was directed to a concrete patio, and underneath a shower. The cameraman handed me a bottle of liquid dishwashingsoap, and turned on the cold-only shower. Shit! That was cold. 767 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 While I appreciated a shower, the selection of soap, location, privacy, and coldness didn’t appeal to me. Of course, I was filmed. By yesterday’s lunch, it dawned on me that I was being filmed for a television show. I made sure to spend a long time carefully washing my rude bits. The show’s editor might want that film for their Elk-showering episode. The water turned off. I expected to be handed a towel. I wasn’t. I looked around for a towel. I didn’t see any. I made a motion that I needed a towel. No-one seemed to care. Crap, it was cold. What was I going to do, shake myself off like a dog? Oh well, I would drip-dry at some point. Angry sigh.
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November 12, 2011
WOONG: FILMING NIBBLES I heard voices and commotion upstairs, so I pre-dressed in my costume. My underwear was getting dingy. Some laundry facilities would be nice. My costume could also use a wash. And I could use a shower. I needed to communicate these points today. I tested telepathy again. It was still blocked. The guard came down. He didn’t expect me to be dressed already. As soon as he saw me in my clothes, he rambled back up the stairs. Two minutes later he returned with the keys. When I was let out, I walked up the stairs to see what today’s movie-making included. On the library coffee-table was a silvered plastic-tray of hors d'oeuvres. The dark-haired man was there, as well as the balding cameraman. The guards looked bored. The dark-haired man raised one finger to signal something, and then walked out the doorway, towards the kitchen. Someplace in the next room, he called out, and someone yell-replied from outside. The dark-haired man returned to the library, and waited. A minute later, a guard entered… the room was getting crowded… followed by a soggy and naked Elk-male, followed by another cameraman, and another guard. The dark-haired man noticed the soggy Elk. The man didn’t seem to mind that Elk was naked. The actor asked the rear-most guard to get something.
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November 12, 2011 The Elk stood sullen, dripping all-over the burnt-sienna Oriental rug, as well as the simulated hardwood-floor. He smelled flowery though. It wasn’t raining outside; the Elk must have been allowed to shower. Two minutes later, the errand-guard returned with a large green towel, which he handed to the cameraman, who handed it to the dark-haired man, who handed it to the Elk. The Elk spent copious-amounts of time drying his balls. He then dried the rest of his fur. Theco have slaves, usually Raptors. My slaves had at least five sets of clothes, without holes. They had towels. They had small bungalows, with two twin-beds, two cabinets, a desk, and a television. The dark-haired man was respectful to me, but none of the Hominids seemed to be respectful of the Elk, even if he weren’t bright-enough to run his own house. What did the Hominids think they were doing? When, not “if”, the Elk-male got pissed-off enough at his treatment, he was going to do serious damage to someone. And a lot more damage to the property and business. These actors, cameramen, and guards didn’t know what they were doing. If this was how Hominids treated slaves and people, neither did their race know what it was doing. The Elk finished drying himself. To emphasize the point, he dried his balls again. The dark-haired man first mimed the scene for us. Filming took thirty takes, or more: I entered the room as a sparkly-purple ambassador, and was greeted by the darkhaired man. He invited me to sit down. I had to fake-sit on the sofa. 770 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The dark-haired man then had a personal-shot where he called out “Mufon!”, or something like that. The irate Elk entered the room carrying the hors d'oeuvres tray. This, of course, required several takes. He set the silvered-tray on the coffee table, which was far-too low for him. The cameraman shot this scene from behind. I suspected that the Elk positioned his butt to maximize the camera’s view of his scrotum. The cameraman filmed the same scene from the front, where the Elk maximized other views. The dark-haired man and I then ate half the hors d’oeuvres over a few takes. Contrary to the mimed script, I offered the Elk-man an hors d'oeuvre while we were videoed. He gently took it in hand, and ate it. I suspect that video-clip never made it into the movie. The dark-haired man dismissed the Elk-male, another shot. The cameraman filmed from front: The Elk-male carefully picked up the tray, the tray intentionally held below his long-bit. The Elk was also filmed lifting the tray, from behind. And he was videoed carrying the half-full tray out. The Elk-man had only been allowed to eat one small nibble. Was he going to be fed grass-cubes in the kitchen? Finished with the mimed script, the dark-haired man signaled for me to get up and follow him out of the room. I was filmed as we exited. Fortunately, my pants stayed on. Women must be the primary target-audience of the movie. Why else would the screenwriters include a naked Elk? The movie’s demographics weren’t that simple though: The combat-scenes would interest Hominid men.
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November 12, 2011
WOONG: FILMING GOING TO SLEEP IN AN ELABORATE BEDROOM The dark-haired man led me into the sitting room, then into the mansion’s dividinghallway. We followed the hallway to the end, past the kitchen, and stopped in front of a closed door, on the left. The cameraman got into position. Several takes were filmed of the dark-haired man opening the door and motioning me in. I was filmed walking into the room, a bedroom. Dark blue-purple plastic covered the outside of the bedroom windows, making it look like I had walked from afternoon-daylight into night. The bedroom had a poster bed, with twirled wood-bits supporting a rug-like canopy. The room, overall, was exceedingly dark. Its walls were the same dark-stained paneling as the library. There was a darkly-stained dresser. There were dark-green curtains. The Oriental rug was a dark burnt-sienna. The bed’s comforter was dark juniper-green. Lighting came from a few dim electric fake-flame lamps. The cameraman filmed me walking into the bedroom. The black-haired man and I were filmed as he showed me the bed… I didn’t like the feel of this. What could be next? 772 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I then had to pull down the comforter, get into bed, pull the blankets over me, and pretend to go to sleep. I did so. That wasn’t good enough though. The dark-haired man gestured me out, and remade the bed. People don’t go to sleep wearing costume clothing. I began feeling irate. I had to undress down to my underwear. My underwear wasn’t terribly clean after a week’s usage. The Hominid men didn’t-even film me undressing from behind, as would be polite. It was a full-frontal shot, including my bulge and my private feathers. Unlike Raptors, we don’t have pouches. I was once-again filmed getting into bed and covering-up. While I lay in bed, my head propped-up by a few pillows, the two Hominids filmed a scene that really-irked me. The dark-haired man left the room, turned out the lights using a light-switch near the door, and gently closed the door. It was reminiscent of saying a bedtime-goodnight to children. Now I was his child… At least he wasn’t going to get in bed with me. This was filmed several times, from different angles. He gently closed the door every time. After the fifth time, the door didn’t reopen. Was the filming over? I didn’t know. I tried to enjoy the bed while I had it. I lay in bed for about an hour. The sheets would smell of feather-oil, by the way. I hadn’t showered for a week. I was beginning to stress out; the sheets would also smell like stressed-out skin-oil.
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November 12, 2011
|AUHH: ALSO MOVED IN TO THE BEDROOM After filming the hors d'oeuvres scene, I was escorted down to my box for the evening. The Hominids had forgotten both my food and water for the day. I lay down to sleep. Sometime later, the door opened up while I was dozing. A Hominid said something to wake me up. They must have wanted me for more filming. I opened my eyes and looked at the Hominid. A guard stood in the doorway, motioning for me to get up. I kneeled, then stood erect. Guessing that he wanted me back upstairs, I walked through the doorway, into the basement hallway. Perhaps they had decided to feed and water me. The guard stood to my right. I gazed-irately at him for a moment, wondering if he wanted me to follow him right, to the end of the basement hallway. Or, if he wanted me to go left, and up the stairs, him following behind. The most-likely response was left. I turned slowly to the left, expecting a truncheon if I guessed wrong. No truncheon. 774 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I slowly ambled up the steps into the kitchen. There, the dark-haired man and a cameraman were sitting at the table. They had finished the hors d'oeuvres, as well as a sandwich each. Their meal was being completed with a cup of coffee each, which they were drinking. When the two men saw me, they gestured to me, and led me into the mansion’s dividing-hallway. I followed them to the end of the hallway. The cameraman began filming. The dark-haired man pointed to the door, and rotated his wrist. I guessed that he wanted me to open the door. I couldn’t grab the faceted-glass doorknob with one hand, like he wanted. Instead, I used both hands to twist the knob, and then gently pushed the door open. Inside was a bed. Sleeping in the bed, and now alert and sitting up in the bed, was the woman Theco. She got a bed. I only got a box. They seem to have treated her better than they treated me. “Close the door and do it again,” I was telepathically thumped. Odd. Telepathy had been dysfunctional before. Should I admit to “hearing” the telepathic command? No, I thought to myself. I’ll play coy. I looked at the man for instructions. He signaled for me to close the door. As I closed the door, I tried to emote embarrassment to the woman whose sleep I had disturbed.
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November 12, 2011 I saw the man gesture for me to open the door again. At the same time, I received a telepathic-thump, “Open the door again.” Maybe the jammer’s battery was getting low. I opened the door for another take, and then looked at the camera inquisitively. The cameraman approached. I backed up. He squeezed inside the room, and positioned himself a few meters from the door. “Close the door and do it again,” was telepathed simultaneously with the dark-haired man’s motions. I closed the door, and reopened it. Surprise! The cameraman was inside. I must have been feeling a bit less-grumpy. Predicting the next take, I repeated the action without prompting. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I should have waited for a gesture. Meanwhile, I understood that a Four-legged Horse was in a hovering spaceplane, not far away. (“Houyhnhnm” from Part IV of Gulliver’s Travels. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulliver%27s_Travels) I looked at the black-haired man for more instructions. He gestured for me to enter. Telepathy seemed to have been re-blocked. I walked into the room, bending my head to avoid antler-hitting-things embarrassment. I was filmed entering the room. Stepping in from behind, the dark-haired man briefly talked to the cameraman, and then curled his fingers at me. 776 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Theco-woman watched intently. She didn’t have breasts, I noticed. The two men walked behind me and out of the room. They closed the door. I heard a locking-mechanism click. What was I supposed to do? My eyes squinted in sadness for the Hominids’ childish and impolite behavior. If I did the wrong thing, the Hominids might find an excuse to beat me. What was the default behavior they expected of me given this circumstance? I stood in front of the bed, waiting further instruction from the Hominids. The Thecowoman didn’t seem to know what I was supposed to do either. I waited for fifteen minutes, and then sat down about a meter from the door, legs up, leaning against the dresser. I waited some more.
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November 12, 2011
WOONG: ELK IN BEDROOM He REALLY shouldn’t sit like that, I thought. What were those two Hominids up to? The Elk-man waited, sitting against the dresser, knees up. I sat-up as much as my tail would allow, and waited for the door to open. After fifteen minutes of sitting, the Elk stood up, and knocked gently on the door, hoping to be let out. He knocked again a few minutes later. Then he tried to open the door. The door wouldn’t open. I didn’t notice, but I was no-longer planning and/or being proactive. We heard voices rummaging about the mansion for an hour, and then the main door closed. The Elk-man began wandering around the room, to see what it held. When I was leftalone in the room, I had first awaited instruction, then I fell asleep. The thought of investigating the room had never occurred to me. Now that the thought was aroused, I consciously decided to NOT investigate at the moment. The Hominid men might-not like the room being searched by us. As the Elk-man wandered about, I thought, “He really should put some clothes on.” In the corner of the room, under a dark-green blanket, the Elk-man found three bottles of water. He offered one to me. I hadn’t noticed the bundle. I opened the light-blue bottle-top with my hands. 778 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He opened his with his mouth, and drank. I leaned-over to see if there was any food underneath the blanket. The Elk-man got the hint and rummaged further into the bundle. There was oneother water-bottle, and some crackers at the bottom of a yellow plastic-bucket. The Elk ate most of the crackers. After we “dined”, the Elk-man paced around the room some-more. He knocked on the door again a few times. And he tried to open it again. He also investigated the windows. Bar-shadows cast by the outside road-lights were visible on the blue-purple plastic taped onto the windows. I tried to think proactively: We could break through the door, but we wouldn’t get far. We would undoubtedly lose “good-behavior points” for the action. Once out of the room, we were unlikely to get out of the house, since a guard was almostcertainly stationed someplace in the mansion. My proactive thinking was interrupted. The Elk-man cautiously and nervously sat on the bed next to me. I lay just off-center of the bed. He looked at me, and expandedand-rolled his eyes. No telepathy. The Elk-male swiveled around, and stretched out his legs on the bed. I slid over. This was my bed! But then again, it wasn’t my bed, because it had only been my bed for a few hours. He certainly deserved a bed as much as I did. The Elk-man leaned-back to lay his head down. His antlers scraped the wood bed-head. Oops. 779 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He sat up, and scooted further down the bed so that his feet were sticking-over, just slightly. His head went down without scraping the wood-paneling behind. His antlers prevented his head from resting on the bed, though. I offered him a pillow. I had taken both. He accepted it, but didn’t try to place it under his head. Instead, he sat up, and swiveled around so his feet touched the bed-head, and his antlers overhung the foot of the bed. He scrunched the pillow underneath his head. I didn’t particularly want to sleep next to him. True, he was dishwashing-soap clean… But he was a stranger, and he was lying on his back. I got off the bed, carrying my pillow with me. I laid on the floor and fell asleep. I woke up once, listening to him quietly snoring.
WOONG: MORE FILMING DURING THE DAY I slept much better on the carpeted floor of the bedroom than the hard concretefloor of the prison-cell. The Elk’s light-snoring may have soothed me. The next day involved more filming, this time in a sitting-room in the front of the house. I saw the infinite suburb-houses for the first time. The mansion-owner wasn’t
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November 12, 2011 all-that-wealthy, after all. The “mansion” was built on an empty piece of land. The next suburb to be built would surround and eat-up all of the “mansion’s” grassland. The Elk played the role of house-servant. Clothes would really have helped. I needed to remember to ask the dark-haired man to use the shower and laundry. I didn’t get a chance during the day, though. We filmed in the morning. For lunch, we were provided sandwiches… again. I didn’t eat the bread. I was losing a lot of weight. More filming occurred after lunch. In the evening, I was offered the use of the indoor toilet. I hadn’t seen the Elk enter the toilet-room at all, ever. He certainly didn’t have an Elks-only toilet. We were locked into our room just before night fell.
WOONG: ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE SAME BEDROOM When the men had closed the mansion’s front-door for the night, I had enough wherewithal to search through the room myself. The dresser was bare. I didn’t dare look underneath the bed in case we were being watched by hidden cameras. The desk was devoid of anything; some paper and a pen would have been nice. The Elk-male also helped in the search. We both explored as thoroughly as possible without arousing too-much suspicion. We even peaked under the carpet. We didn’t find anything interesting. 781 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Elk went to bed first, upside-down, feet at the head of the bed. This time, he covered himself with a sheet. He quite-intentionally occupied only the left side of the bed. I decided to try sleeping on the right side. We slept head to foot though. Having my head near the foot of the bed would-have left me feeling too-exposed to the dooropening. I didn’t want my head near his head, either. I have to admit, his feet were interesting. I examined them to see how his furred skin intersected with his hooves. The undersides of his hooves were an intricate biological construction. The back-side of the Elk’s feet, right next to his hooves, were bare of fur. Saurian feathers always grew from small bumps; the feather-bumps would remain even when the feathers had fallen out. The Elk’s fur-follicles had only very-minor skinindentations, and showed no skin micro-discolorations. His skin didn’t produce much oil either, at least not on his feet.
WOONG: MORE FILMING DURING THE DAY The next day was filled with more filming, this time mostly-with the sandy-haired actor. We worked throughout the day. I still had no idea what my spoken lines meant.
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WOONG: PASSION We ate soon after sunset. The dark-haired man had skipped-out in the afternoon, and returned at sunset with four takeaway meals. I was given beef in a thick gravy, with rice. It tasted a bit sour, which may have been the Hominid cooking style. Overall, the meal was very tasty, even the rice. The Hominids had put me on a starvation diet; I had lost at least five kilograms in the last week. The Elk was given what-looked-like the same beef, but with lettuce instead of rice. His meal also came with a bread-roll. Given his size, he was most-definitely on a starvation diet. After a toilet break for me, we were both locked in the room. I think my Elk companion was forced to toilet outside.
I am fairly-certain the food was drugged. I became very horny. The Elk-man became very horny. There was nothing else to do. I certainly wasn’t going to get pregnant. Nor was he.
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November 12, 2011
WOONG: DETONATIONS I woke-up in the morning, remembering the previous night. We must-have been drugged with sexual stimulants. Why did the Hominids do that? Perhaps the drugs were used as a “positive reinforcement” for good behavior. Drugging people into having sex was an odd-sort of positive-reinforcement though.
We were both awake, waiting for the door to open.
Before the Hominids had a chance to arrive, we heard a distant explosion. Then another, a few seconds later. Then 30-megatons were dropped. The city-center and suburbs were destroyed, including us and the mansion we were locked-in.
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WHAT HAPPENED OUTSIDE OF THE STORY…
THE ELK DELEGATION The Hominids were invading the zone inhabited by the Elk-evolved people, and other non-Hominoids. The delegation-party that |auhh was ceremonial head for, was a capitulation delegation. The Elk-envoys were to meet with the Hominid negotiators and arrange for the evacuation of Elk-evolved civilians. Everything that happened in the reception-mansion was video-recorded. Officials from at least two Hominid zones were involved in the Elk-kidnapping that day. Part of the reason for videoing the hostage-taking was so that all Hominid parties would have incriminating evidence to use against one-another. |auhh was flown several taurospheres away, to The Six Kingdoms. Two of the three women travelling with |auhh have not-yet been rescued.
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WOONG Woong’s spaceplane was captured by Aussies. They were most-likely subcontractedout by the Hominids. Woong was most-likely NOT the specific target of the spaceplane piracy. Woong was flown from the Saurian zone near the bottom of our taurosphere, up to The Six Kingdoms.
SOAP OPERAS Hominids love soap-operas. Soap-operas are the predominant television story-form on other Hominid planets, just like situation-comedies and cop-shows are predominant on Earth-Sol. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Situation_comedy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cop_show) Half of the soap operas only use Hominid actors; non-Hominids are NEVER shown in them. The soap-opera episodes include social backstabbing, and lots of censored romance, just like Earth-Sol soap-operas. The other half are “science-fiction” soap-operas. They employ military themes, exploration themes, space travel, and combat. “Animal-people” slaves and authentic dead-“reptiloid” bodies are commonly shown. Soap-opera scripts are written by professionals, and franchised to small C-grade production-teams on each planet. The C-grade teams localize the soap-opera to the planet’s language and culture, hire the actors, and record-and-edit the episodes. The franchisors transport spaceplane-loads of actors from different franchises to safe 786 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 war-zones, where they are filmed en-masse dodging zap-bullets or walking through fields of “reptiloid” battle-dead. The franchisees are also provided help with marketing and distribution, and access to military technology and videos of combat. Televised-pornography involving Hominid-sex and Hominid-nudity is illegal. “Animal”-people pornography is legal, but only after 10:00 pm. Space-operas, because they involve non-Hominids, often include “animal”-people pornography. Two versions of each soap-opera episode are produced. One version is designed-andedited for all audiences. The late-night version has the same basic content, with some added swearwords, “animal”-person nudity, and an occasional “animal”person sex-scene. Woong and |auhh were drugged. Their sex-act was videoed in the bedroom by invisible extradimensional cameras. They were also telepathically recorded for “feelies”, television “video” that includes emotional telepathy. For the “feely” sex-scene to work well: |aauh and Wong would have to be relatively-compatible personality-wise. They would be drugged with sexual-stimulants to break through their reluctance to have sex. They would have to be ignorant of the clandestine filming. Various non-Hominid organizations maintain psychology personality-vectors on people, everywhere. This information was most-likely acquired by the Hominid “talent-scouts”. When |auhh and Woong were taken hostage in the same week, along with hundreds-of-thousands of other wealthy people, their personalities were run through a dating computer-program. The pair must have matched as compatible personalities, as well as meeting racial-constraints required for the science-fiction soap-opera storyline. Tens-of-thousands of C-grade soap-opera companies exist. Each would be delivered pre-paired hostages over the course of a few months. |auhh was most-likely kept naked on purpose, both for the nudity-content of the space-opera, and to sexually stimulate Woong. 787 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After a few weeks and a few sex scenes, either |auhh or Woong, or both, would be discarded from the show. Saurians, in general, have a tendency to die in the course of filming a science-fiction soap-opera. Woong might have been killed a few weeks or months later, as part of the storyline. |auhh, hopefully, would have become emotionally attached to her by then, providing for more “feely” drama.
“DEALING WITH THE DEVIL” Science-fiction soap-operas are the only mass-media way that Six Kingdoms wardissenters and less-racist-Hominids can propagate their messages. The Hominid actors in this story were less-racist than typical Hominids. The actors seemed surprised to have-received hostages as supporting cast-members. Mostlikely, the team-members were ignorant of the franchisor’s long-term storyline, which would have been revealed to the C-grade soap-opera team bit-by-bit. The actors behaved as though they hadn’t-before included non-Hominids in their show, other than the occasional slave or dead “reptiloid” body. By using hostages in their cast, the soap-opera team was “brought into complicity” with Hominid racist and pro-war norms. The team would have incorporated the Saurian cast-member and sex-scenes with the allure of larger audiences. Franchisor contractual rules might also have encouraged the use of hostages and sex-scenes.
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BROADCAST NEAR |AUHH’S HOME Hominid soap-operas are broadcast in the Hominid zones near the Elk-evolved zone, where |auhh came from. If and/or when the soap-opera featuring |auhh appears on television, the acting, nudity, and pornography will soil the reputation of |auhh’s family and clan.
TREATMENT OF |AUHH AND WOONG BY THE ACTORS AND CAMERAMEN The actors and cameramen in the story, no-matter how less-racist they were than typical Hominids, did NOT “reverse the roles” and imagine what |auhh and Woong were feeling and experiencing. Earth-Sol children and teenagers often have the same problem. Children will “neglect pets”. Woong and |auhh were “neglected pets”. Their sleeping accommodation, bedding, clothing, showering, food, and beverages all illustrate the neglect. The actors and cameramen may not have thought of Woong and |auhh as people deserving respect, an Earth-Sol teenager-problem. The Hominids either didn’t realize that two hostages did not wish to be drugged into sex, nor wish to be filmed for pornography, or the Hominids had teenager-like sociopathic-tendencies and didn’t care that Woong and |auhh were being mistreated. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sociopath, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milgram_experiment)
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ANIMAL TRAINING If Earth-Sol were “disclosed” to, culturally and genetically different Hominids would migrate here, and half-life replace our indigenous culture and genetics within 100 years. Space-faring migrant Hominids are approximately 2 of our standard deviations less-capable animal-trainers than we are on Earth-Sol. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_deviation, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halflife) As a general rule, Hominids on other planets don’t have pets, like our dogs. Most Hominids are incapable of imagining themselves placed in their pet’s role, or with their pet’s knowledge-base, or with their pet’s intelligence, or mimicking their pet’s thinking-processes. Without these abilities, Hominids cannot effectively interact-with and train dog-intelligence pets. To effectively train dog-intelligence pets, the trainer must understand and adapt to the pet’s mental limitations. In a hyperbole, a pet-incapable Hominid might speak a command to his/her dog: “Dog, fetch me a beer-can from the fridge.” The dog doesn’t understand the speech, doesn’t know what a beer-can is, doesn’t know that it can open the fridge door, or that it should close the fridge door after pulling out the beer-can. The hyperbolized pet-incapable migrant space-faring Hominid doesn’t realize that the dog has these limitations. The Hominid’s learned and instinctive response to their dog’s disobedience would be to apply negative reinforcement to the dog until it fetches the beer on command. This leads to dogs that are at-first scolded, then locked in their room, then not-fed, then beaten, and then beaten-to-death. The dog would have no clue why it would be scolded, locked in a room, not fed, or beaten. If a hyperbolized migrant space-faring Hominid notices that you, as a neighbor, haven’t cut your grass for two weeks, you will be subject to simple negative and positive reinforcements.
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November 12, 2011 Neighbor: “You didn’t cut your grass last week, so I won’t invite you to my weekly dinner-party until you cut your grass for two weeks in a row.” Simplistically, “If you’re bad for one week, you must be good for twice-as-long as you were bad.” Reasoning with them doesn’t work well: “I realize that you want me to cut my grass, but I do not wish to comply because I like longer grass… or I am saving petrol… or I don’t have time… etcetera.” If the migrant space-faring Hominid thinks they have “power” over you, their typical reply is either “You will do what I tell you to do,” or “You will never survive in our society [… but you’re stuck in our society, so you must adapt to it, and do what I tell you to do…]”. Failure to comply results in no dinner invites, or candy-wrappers being thrown into your yard, as well as gradually-worse negative reinforcements. Pet-incapable behavior is more-commonly-seen in “war-bred” and half-breeds of “war-bred” people. The progenitors of “war-bred” people are selected by governments to be ideal combatants in a war. Their population is bred-up to sufficient numbers to be of military value. War-bred people are not only petincapable, they also tend to be sociopathic, to follow orders without question, and to work without much pay. Half-breeds between stable-society people and war-bred people are common in regions where war-bred people have been reproduced-anddeployed for centuries. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sociopath) Aussies, a previous generation of Australopithecus-evolved people, do NOT have these problems. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australopithecus)
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ATTACK ON THE CITY The first small explosion was from a piercing-missile designed to test the city’s missile-deflection defenses. The second larger-missile was targeted at war-leadership meeting in the city. The missile should have hit the leadership, but city deflection-defenses were better than expected. After two detonations, the Hominid war-leadership would scatter. A valuable rare-occurrence military-target would dissipate. Non-Hominoid militaries weren’t going to let the war-leadership scatter and escape. Since the larger-missile was deflected by the city’s defenses, a much-larger much-less-deflectable detonation was used to kill the Hominid war-leadership. The suburb’s destruction, and the deaths of the suburb’s inhabitants were undesired casualties of war.
MORE INFORMATION To understand more of the back-story behind this story, read http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarthFullEBook.pdf.
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FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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SUPERWAREHOUSEMEGAMANSION by Mike Rozak Copyleft September 2011
This story is UNFINISHED. It is a work in progress.
Warning: This story is sexually explicit.
BUGBUG – Image of Tahr-evolved woman (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tahr)
THE ESTATE BUGBUG – 600 x 300 meters x 7 above + 2 below. The mansion was a box 500 meters x 300 meters x 5 stories (2 of them underground). Outside was a façade of sandstone and faux windows. Inside the mansion was a maze of thousands of rooms. Literally, a maze.
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November 12, 2011 The entryway was on the second floor just so that people couldn’t find their way out of the building.
Outside was a few-hundred meters of impeccably manicured lawn. Surrounded by trees, as far as the eyes could see.
Hidden behind the trees were: The servant’s building (slave’s quarters) were 250 meters x 150 meters x 2 stories. 1000 slaves lived in the servant’s quarters. Why 1000? Because “The estate is maintained by 952 slaves” was missing a certain ring.
BUGBUG – Servants = slaves x 2. Larger servants quarters. Follow-on through.
The machinery building was also 250 meters x 150 meters x 1 story. Both of these were connected by 2-kilometer underground passageways. One side with bidirectional moving floors, and the other side with bidirectional golf-cart access.
The cost? The mansion:
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November 12, 2011 $3000 per square meter, plus $1000 per square meter for anti-bot and antieavesdropping security, plus $500 per square meter for furnishings. $4500/sqm x 500m x 300m x 5 floors = $3.375 billion. The servant’s quarters: $1000 per square meter plus $150 per square meter for furnishings. $1150/sqm x 250m x 150m x 2 floors = $0.086 billion. The machinery shed: $1000 per square meter, plus $1000 per square meter of equipment. $2000/sqm x 250m x 150m x 1 floor = $0.75 billion. The lands… roughly as much as the buildings: $3.461 billion. $1000 per hectare, $100,000 per square kilometer. 34,000 square kilometers. About 200 km x 200 km. Total value of the estate: About $7 billion
The cost of running the estate: Oh yeah, the slaves were high quality, worth $40,000 each. $0.040 billion in slaves. 1000 slaves x $40,000 per year (burdened cost) = $40 million per year. 1% annual repair costs for the structures and property maintenance = $70 million per year. 0.1% property taxes = $7 million per year About $120 million per year to upkeep. 796 | P a g e
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The owner of the estate would have had five equally-sized estates, scattered over a few galaxies. And they would have twice-as-many personal/private estates. One-quarter the size, but twice the cost per square-meter. Total value of estate properties: 5 x $7 billion + 10 x $3.5 billion = $70 billion. Annual upkeep: 5 x $0.120 billion + 10 x $0.060 billion = $1.2 billion.
The owner’s net worth? The owner’s estates might be 10% of their net worth. $70 billion / 10%= $700 billion net worth. Their annual upkeep might be 50% of the owner’s income. $1.2 billion / 50% = $2.4 billion income.
By the way, there are families worth $700 billion on Earth-Sol. You can find their estates by searching around satellite images from Google Maps. (http://maps.google.com/) These estates don’t appear on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous (BUGBUG – TV show link)
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THE TELEPHONE CALL Ring. Ring. Ring. Long, three-day holiday weekend. Middle of the night. Just finished teaching school six hours before. “Hello?” “Jane Ware Lissen Krim?” “Yes.” “This is Nelly. I am your relocation officer.” “Huh?” “In case you didn’t know, we have been relocating people over all of our planets.” “Huh?” I was dazed. “This is about the looming war.” I had heard plenty about the war on television. The woman continued, “We are ensuring that if any of our planets get invaded or nuked by the Hominids, that our diverse genetics don’t get destroyed.” “Oh.” I didn’t know where the woman was going. “You have been selected to be relocated onto a different planet?” That didn’t sound all-that appealing to me. “Are you serious? Is this a joke?” 798 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yes, we are serious.” “I can’t. I have class to teach. Wait… What if I don’t want to?” “You effectively have no choice.” “What do you mean?” “We can get a court-order to enforce your transport for reasons of national security.” “Fuck. How do I know this isn’t a crank call?” “At ten in the morning, an official government van will pick you up in front of your house. For verification purposes, your address is fifty-two dash eighty-nine Walton Village.” “Yeah.” My voice was dejected. “Wait. Ten in the morning? You mean, ten hours from now?” “Yes.” “How long will this trip last?” “We don’t know. Most likely half a year to a year.” “But…” “Just pack one medium-sized duffle-bag.” The woman’s voice saddened. “That’s all that will fit on your spaceplane. Leave a note out for your neighbors to watch after your pet cat. We know you have one. Don’t worry, we will contact your place of employment and explain.”
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MY FIRST SPACEPLANE RIDE I had never been on a spaceplane before. I had never been off the planet. And to travel to the other cities on the planet, which I had only done on holiday, I took the train.
A government police-van arrived in front of my bungalow at half an hour late. That was official enough for me. The driver got out of the car as I approached. “Jane?” “Yes,” I said, waddling under the weight my large overstuffed bag. The man looked at my bag. “Yeah, well, it’s a bit oversized. I’m not supposed to let that through… but toss it in the back. I can hardly blame you.” The driver helped me carry my very-large bag to behind the van. He opened the doors. And helped me heaved it in. Before he closed the doors, he remembered, “Oh yeah, I have to see some ID.” “Oh, sure.” I pulled out my driver’s license. I had only ever used it to take my driving test. He looked at. “Looks like you.” 800 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The driver closed the door. “Hop in the rear. Since you live so close to the airport, you’re the only one on this van trip.” “Thank you.” I hopped into the rear of the van, and wondered at this strange event. Last night I thought I would spend three days resting and perhaps painting my bathroom charcoal-pink. Hell, now I had a free spaceplane flight to somewhere completely different. I was abandoning my newly-purchased bungalow. My cat… She had a cat-door and could get free food from her neighbors anytime she wanted. My children at school. And my family. I had forgotten to call my family! The van took off. I’d call when I got to whatever planet I was going to. “Hey, mom, guess where I am. I am on another planet. No kidding!” The van didn’t quite arrive at the airport, ever. I had dropped plenty of people off at the airport, and even picked on child up there… just a month ago, in fact. I didn’t think of the similarity to my current situation at that point in time. The van drove behind the usual departure terminal, and straight onto the tarmac. “Why were we doing this?” I wondered. Shouldn’t I be dropped off and handed a ticket by some official government employee, and then board my flight normally? The van approached a small triangle spaceplane. Boarding stairs were already positioned.
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November 12, 2011 Two other vans had already pulled up, and people were boarding. My bag was by-far the largest of the ones I saw people carrying. “We’re here.” The man stopped the van, and turned-around to give me instructions. “Just climb-up the steps with your bag. You don’t have to go through all of that ticket nonsense.” “Thank you.” I added, “Here.” I pulled out a few dollars and handed them to the man as a tip. “Thanks.” I opened the van door. It was drizzling slightly. I’d have to hurry or I would begin to smell musty. The man stayed in the van. I couldn’t blame him. I opened the back of the van myself, slid my bag off the tray and onto the ground. I then closed the van doors. With the very-heavy bag in two hands, I wobbled to the steps. The van-driver double-tooted his horn at me, as a friendly goodbye. I turned around and waved as he drove-off. “You were warned, I see.” Said the woman, as she looked at my bag. “Yeah. Quite a shock.” “Tell me.” Then she added. “Could I see your ID please?” “Certainly.”
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November 12, 2011 I pulled-out my driver’s license. The woman looked at it, ran a scanner over my head, and then said, “Thank you.” Last time with the bag. I lifted the heavy thing, and hobbled up the steps. Inside the triangle spaceplane, I saw a jumble of bags off to my right. I hauled my bag there. A flight-assistant came to meet me. Before she could say anything, I asked, “Where should I sit?” “Anywhere.” “Oh, and. Could you move that bag to the other side. We want to keep the plane balanced.” “Sure.” This time was the last time! I hauled, and occasionally dragged, the bag to the other side. I then sat down mid-way up the plane. The flight-attendant handed me a cup of synthesized tangerine drink as a reward for good behavior. I used it on my school-children all of the time. The flight took an hour to load. It was completely full. I glanced back at the bag pile. It reached to the ceiling on both sides. The plane would be unbalanced. I chatted with the woman who sat next to me, and one who sat opposite. “Do you know where we’re going?” I asked. 803 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “How the hell do I know. I just found out two hours ago. My daughter and her husband packed my bag.” Pause. “You know. I think they were quite happy to send me to another planet for half a year.”
CLEANING AN EMPTY HOUSE THAT MAY HAVE BEEN A SPACEPLANE I was standing in a grey-steel box. About one meter, by one-meter, by two and a half meters high. I didn’t know why I was standing in the box. I didn’t realize that I didn’t know why I wasn’t standing in the box. A door automatically opened in front of me. I think it slid to the left, but I was so out-of-it that I didn’t really notice. Through the open doorway I saw a very-ornate sitting room. Rococo furniture. (BUGBUG – rococo) Room was four meters high. Draped windows, with white-light shining in from the outside. I couldn’t see the outside through the windows, just a white haze. As is turns out, I was actually inside. The white-light was a synthetic white-wall. The floor was an expensive-looking synthetic “granite” with oriental carpeting. 804 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I still didn’t think to think about where I was, or why I was there. I head a buzzer go off. Huh? A buzzer went-off again. I tilted my head to see where the sound came from. It definitely came from outside the closet where I stood. This time, when the buzzer went off, I saw a small red hemisphere, about three centimeters in diameter, illuminate red. It was on a cherry side-table. That was interesting. Perhaps it was an alarm clock. I still stood in the closet. Looking around. The cherry side table, from this distance, looked circular. Its tabletop was about one meter off the ground. It had a box of tissues on it. The buzzer went-off. Then a voice played over some announcement system. It was an Aussie voice, though I couldn’t tell it from Hominids. Aussies are an older version of Hominids. They have better technology, and are known to be nastier, but not as stupid. They are chiefly identified by their wit, and small tail. I didn’t understand what the voice did. Two seconds later, I forgot that I had heard a voice. I stared at the Persian carpet. 805 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Whose house was this? Why was I in some stranger’s house. The announcement-system came on again, and phrase in a different language was spoken. I didn’t understand it. What was the person saying? I didn’t understand… so I decided to ignore the voice. I noticed that there was a clavier at the far-end of the room. They were expensive. I wondered if the keys were large enough for me to play. I had always wanted a keyboard instrument as a girl. “Proceed to the light,” spoken the announcer voice. He must be changing languages. Did I want to obey? I might as well. I hobbled out of the closet, towards the side-table. My legs were stiff. I felt the felt of the carpeting underneath my feet. As I walked-out into the room, I perceived a hallway leaving the room, off to my right. Paintings of wild-animals were everywhere on the walls, by the way. I reached the side-table, with the box of tissues on it.
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November 12, 2011 The buzzer and light went-off again. The buzzer-light was a hemisphere, with longitudinal ribbing. It looked rather low-tech. Opposite the clavier, in the other corner, was a snooker table, up against the wall, like it should be. The light buzzed again. But not this one. I heard the buzz from behind me. “Proceed to the light,” was announced. “Why?” I asked quietly. Near the snooker table was an expensively-embroidered recliner-sofa. The room was absolutely cluttered with furniture. A buzzer went-off behind me. “Proceed to the light,” was announced again. Might as well. It felt like a scavenger hunt. I turned around, and watched-and-waited. On the wall next to the hallway was a small control-panel, installed at shoulder height. The light turned on and buzzer went-off near the control panel. Side-table first, then control panel on the wall. Was there a pattern? I hobbled over to the control panel. My right-foot was injured.
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November 12, 2011 The light-and-buzzer on the control-panel beeped before I reached it. It was a low-tech looking intercom system. There was a button on it. I depressed the button. “Why am I here?” and then let the button up. “Hold on a minute. Let me get my translation book,” answered the voice. A minute later. “You asked, “What am I doing here?”” And then the man continued. “You are here because we rescued you from your spaceship.” What had I been doing in a spaceship? I had never been in a spaceship. If I was in a spaceship, then was I in a satellite… no… they weren’t called that… was I in a personal space-station? “How did I get from my house to here?” I asked, the intercom button depressed while I spoke. I glanced down the hallways while I awaited an answer. “We most-definitely found you in a marooned spaceship.” Why was I in a spaceship? I had never been in a spaceplane before. I looked at my clothes. I was wearing a business suit. It was far too-good for teaching school-children. I had put it on this morning so I would look presentable for the evacuation. Fuck.
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November 12, 2011 I recalled the taxi-ride to the airport, and getting in the spaceplane, and even taking off. I recalled thinking that I should have sat next to a window to see the planet below… but there were no windows. “What happened to the spaceship?” The next response was faster. “Just a minute. I’m busy with someone else.” If my spaceplane had crashed I might not remember it. Wouldn’t I bed dead? I certainly wasn’t dead. Wouldn’t our side be rescuing us instead of the Aussies? Did the Aussies have a rescue service where they recued people? I didn’t recall being in space for long. How could the Aussies, an enemy, have their rescue spaceships so close to our planet? “I’m back. Sorry. Your spaceship malfunctioned.” And then the man continued. “Please, take a look around. Someone will be with you shortly.” My understanding at the time was that someone would show-up in the mansion-like space-station and talk to me. “Thank you,” I buzzed back. That “Thank you,” won me the job. Given leave to wander-around, I decided to walk down the hallway. The sitting-room was full of furniture. I didn’t think they’d want me damaging it. The hallway looked uncluttered… … And there might be a toilet someplace down it. 809 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The hallway was carpeted with Persian decorations. The walls were baby-blue. There weren’t any paintings, just decorative plasters in the shapes of wreaths. Half-way up the hallway on my left was a bathroom. It had white tiles, a shower-and-bathtub, and several shapes of toilets. The door was a banged-up wooden-paneled door, with about six panels. Painted a cream-white. The door-handle was a crystal-glass knob. Very difficult for me to hold or twist. I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Some cream-yellow towels hung on the wall. I pulled-down my skirt and sat on the toilet. The buzzer went-off. Damn. I hurried-up, got my skirt back on, and walked-out the room. But I couldn’t. The buzzer went-off while I used both hands to try-and-grab and try-and-rotate the door-handle. Tahr have small four fingers, without much gripping ability. I made it to the intercom just-after the next beep. The Aussie man was already asking, “Why didn’t you get to the intercom in time?” I didn’t realize until later that he was waiting for me to be stuck on the toilet before beeping me. “I was on the toilet.” 810 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “That explains it then.” Pause. “Did you look around?” “No, sorry, I only got as far as the toilet.” “Too bad.” He continued, “Please take your time to look-around some more. We have no-one who can stop-by and visit you now.” “Thank you. I will check-out the bedroom.” I had seen a bedroom through the doorway at the end of the hall. Pause. “I will meet you there.” I walked down the hall, past the bathroom. Just before the end of the hall was a sliding-door on my right. Not-quite a secret passage. I didn’t try to open it. The bedroom had an open cream-white door. Four paneled. I walked through the doorway. The left space-station “pod” I was in was obviously rectangular. While the bedroom wasn’t nearly as long as the sitting-room, it was just as wide. The left wall of the bedroom was an back-illuminated scene of a rural vineyard. The color reproduction was accurate. I almost could fool myself that my bedroom opened to the outside. The floor was wood-looking, with small elliptical carpets. An extra-king-sized poster bed was in the center. It had a bird-print comforter and draperies. The bed was four pillows across. My bed in my bungalow was only one-and-a-half pillows wide. 811 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This was quite a stylish place to crash-into. Oddly, on my right was a raised wood floor. Cedar. With wood-paneling against the wall. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a horse-stall. A shower-head hung over the stall. I thought it might be some sort of sauna. I had never actually seen a sauna or hot-tub before, except in a magazine. I didn’t think to look for the tub part. I checked-out the horse-stall some more. There was nothing interesting near the outdoor wall. I didn’t want to mess-up the bed. The horse-stall looked reasonably safe. Some thick horse-brushes hung-off the side of the stall. There was a large sink and tap in one corner, not cedar-lined. A large bar of soap was in it. I didn’t know what to make of my surrounds. The Aussies were enemies. If they were, they weren’t treating me badly. I would have expected to be in manacles or something, not in my business suit in posh digs. I didn’t exactly like their accommodation. It was WAY too ornate, cluttered, and weird. I had always thought that Hominids lived in small houses with low ceilings and distinctly-less furniture… but still ugly-looking furniture. A buzzer went-off behind me. 812 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I turned-around and saw a intercom on the wall next to the hallway… this time in the bedroom. I walked up to it. “Hello,” I asked into-it. “Do you like your accommodation?” asked the Aussie. This shocked me. Shouldn’t I be let out so I could catch a spaceplane home? “My accommodation?” “Yes, this is where you will be staying for a few days.” “Can’t I get out of here?” “No, you cannot.” “I want to be returned to my planet.” “We won’t be doing that.” Won’t be returning me to my planet? “How many days will I be in here for?” “I think you will be here about three days.” I thought about a response. Was I locked in here because there was no rescue spaceplane to return me to my planet? Or was I locked in here because I was now a permanent servant… we had no word for slave. We had no permanent servants either… just grandparents. Since I didn’t answer, the Aussies continued the conversation. “Please. Make yourself at home. Feel free to sleep on the bed. There is some food and water in a small refrigerator near the bed.” They were awfully insistent. 813 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Thank you.” The thought of food, and especially water, interested me. I hadn’t seen any refrigerator on the stall-side of the bed. I slowly walked-around to the other side. There was a short-brown refreshment refrigerator. On-top were several plastic bottles of water. I stooped-down and opened the refrigerator. Inside was a salad in a clear-plastic container, a muesli bar, and a sandwich. I unwrapped and ate the muesli bar. Then I drank some water. I sat down on the bed. I must have sat and stared “outside” for an hour, waiting to be paged. I thought about being annoying and paging the Aussie, but decided that my situation was tenuous. It might be better if I didn’t annoy him. Let sleeping-goats nap. I eventually lay-back onto the bed, my legs dangling over the side. I stared-up at the poser-bed fabric ceiling. It was lighter-fabric on the inside than the outside. That must have meant that it wasn’t very-good quality. Fifteen minutes later, still lying on my back, I twisted my legs onto the bed and fell asleep.
LOOKING AROUND 814 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The buzzer went off. “Wake up,” came an Aussie woman over the intercom. The apartment must have had automatic lights, because they dimmed while I slept. Even the vineyard-wall faded into night. It may have even simulated a sunset. As I began stirring, the lights automatically brightened. I didn’t have any motion-sensing lights in my bungalow, but I had seen them on a real-estate show on television. The motion-sensing lights just weren’t available in my city’s hardware store. I had hardly messed up the bed. I hadn’t even slept on one of the pillows. I sat up bleary-eyed and stared at the backlit vineyard-wall as it brightened. I might have heard cows lowing in the distance… recorded cows. I waited for more announcements to be broadcast over the intercom. Meanwhile, I tried to assess my situation. Somehow my spaceplane had crashed or been destroyed in war. (As I would later find out, it actually hadn’t. An Aussie capture-ship can grabbed it and yanked us out.) The Aussies had rescued me from certain death. Now I was either a prisoner or hostage. I didn’t particularly consider that I might be a slave at that point. For a prisoner or hostage, I was being treated quite well. The muesli bar was very tasty.
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November 12, 2011 And the accommodations were generous… but not at all to my liking. What should I do? Should I pester my captors? Most-likely not. I sat-up from bed, and looked at the crumples I had made in the bed-sheet. I straightened them out. Might as well. I took another drink of water. And then visited the toilet-room. I noticed the shower, but decided not to push their hospitality too far. Still no news from the intercom? I half thought about checking-out the horrendous sitting-room, mostly-horrendous because of its décor… but I didn’t want to mess it up. I returned to the bedroom, and walked around a minute. I was already bored. Food? Contact the Aussies and see when they would let me out? I had a polite plan. I wandered to the intercom and pressed the “Talk” button. “Hello?” “One moment.” Thirty seconds later. “How can I help you?” 816 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Is it alright if I eat the salad?” “What salad?” “The salad in the refrigerator.” “Oh. Yes. Certainly. Be my guest. All the food is intended for you.” “Thank you.” I didn’t manage to get any information, but I didn’t really try to. But I let it be known to them that I was being a friendly guest at the moment. The room shuttered briefly. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was a space-station thing. I grabbed the salad out of the fridge. It has iceberg lettuce, with radishes. Not as tasty as the muesli bar. I put the salad container back in the fridge. And then pulled-out the sandwich. I ate half of it, and put the remainder back. I was bored. If I were a captive, I needed to not be a prick to them. I would be treated better if I weren’t. I thought about checking out the knickknacks in the sitting-room. I hadn’t liked any of them, except the clavier. I pressed the “Talk” button. “Is it okay if I wander through your sitting room?” Pause. “Yes. Feel free. Try not to damage anything.” “Certainly. 817 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And a moment later. “And oh, when will I be let out of here?” “Not yet. We’re working on it.” “Thank you.” I waited half a minute in-case there was a response. And then I wandered into the sitting-room. Yesterday, in my previous condition, I only barely noticed that it was overly-ornate and overly-crowded. I had been afraid to move in it for fear of knocking anything over, or leaving “goat-hairs” around. As I wandered into the room this morning, my mind clear, I absolute abhorred the room.
BUGBUG – sketch of the room
There was three-times as much furniture in the room as needed. The furniture had way-too many patterns on it, and way-too-much decoration, and looked way-too uncomfortable. For my own bungalow, which I had just purchased, I had a few cane chairs, a butterfly chair, a trampoline-bed, and I was considering purchasing a hammock for outside. All of the furniture was covered with knickknacks. The tissue dispenser on the sidetable was the least-offensive of them. There were also figurines and small stonecrystals. It was a dusting nightmare. There was also a telephone, which I hadn’t noticed. I walked through the room like walking through a museum.
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November 12, 2011 I didn’t touch anything. Except the clavier. It was embossed wood-veneer with several cuts of wood. Checkerboard pattern on the front. Some tacky knickknacks on top. I opened the keyboard cover. Underneath were piano-sized keys, eight per octave. They were all displaced and broken, as if some children had abused the clavier for a hundred years. I tried pinging one of the keys to get a note out. Nothing. They keys weren’t actually connected to any strings. It was all a façade. The whole room was a façade. No-one could actually live in it, could they? It was some sort of fancy hotel meant for awfully-strange Hominids. They must have liked the décor. Now what? I closed the keyboard lid. Looked around a bit more. I did-not notice that the closet which I had emerged from was no-longer visible. I certainly wasn’t going to sit anywhere in the sitting-room. Not only was it ugly, but I was afraid of messing it up. I returned to the bedroom via the bathroom. 819 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t want to mess up the bed either… the last time I had made-up a bed was never. I dislodged a pillow, and carried it over the stall… although I didn’t know it was a stall at the time. To me, it was a raised striped-cedar floor and walls. It did have a funny smell. I propped the pillow into the corner and sat. Should I harass the Aussies with questions? It might keep me entertained. I fell-asleep in the corner.
SOLD I awoke to hear some vacuuming. Maybe someone was there? I stood up from the stall and crept down the hallway. No-one was around. But a vacuumed-cleaner-sounding robot was slowly making its rounds, vacuuming the carpeting and hard-floor. It seemed to vacuum underneath it, kind-of like a lawnmower cuts underneath itself… I had just purchased a used lawnmower for my bungalow. The robot also had an “arm” with a smaller vacuum. It could get underneath the furniture that way. I watched the machine for awhile and then returned to the stall. Half an hour later, the vacuuming stopped.
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November 12, 2011 I hadn’t noticed the quiet since the robot would start-up its vacuum all of the time. I did hear a metal-door close and a click though. Maybe someone had stopped by to pick it up? I walked into the sitting-room and saw no-one, nor did I see any vacuum. Where did it go? I then noticed the close-panel to the closet where I had entered. And I then recalled the panel in the hallway. It may have left through the hallway panel. It was only half-height. All of the cleaning-supplies for the room could be stored in there, including the vacuum cleaner. “Hello, Miss Krim,” went the intercom. I didn’t think to think that the Aussies had somehow learned my name. I walked to the intercom in the bedroom, and pressed the “Talk” button. “Yes?” “We wish to inform you that regretfully you have been sold.” What? Sold? Sold into slavery? “Please exit the apartment the way you came. You will find a long hallway. Follow the hallway to the end.” I didn’t say “Thank-you” this time.
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November 12, 2011 I heard a click, and then a metal-door sliding. That’s it. I was going to get out of here… and then where? Slavery? For some reason I looked around for my purse. I didn’t have it. Should I stay in the apartment and refuse to leave? Did I have a choice? Should I complain? Not over an intercom. I returned to the sitting-room. The sliding-panel had opened up. I could see a long hallway, gradually sloping downwards. The hallway was all greysteel, with a studded-relief low-slip floor. Oh well, the apartment was getting boring. I walked down the hallway. As I walked, my feet and hands became numb. I didn’t know it at the time, but the effects were due to changes in “physics temperature”. I got half-way down the hallway before I felt nauseous. I began to weaken, grabbing onto a balustrade on the side. And then I collapsed to my knees. And then I blacked out.
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November 12, 2011
THE CITY “We will be landing in about ten minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts.” I began to awake. The same phrase was spoken in another language. I opened my eyes. And then in another language. I sat in a spaceplane chair, looking forward at a video-display showing our descent to our destination. What was I doing on a spaceplane? The same phrase was once-again spoken, this time in a non-Mammaloid language. What happened to the god-awful hotel-room I had been in? I looked around. A Zebra-evolved woman was sitting to the left of me. Her arms were D-shackled to the seat’s armrests. So were my arms. I was wearing muslin clothing… kind of a beige-muslin skirt and a beige-muslin top. The Zebra-woman’s muslin clothing was navy-blue. To my right was a Goat/Sheep-evolved woman. She had yellow muslin skirt and top. Her stomach-breasts were showing through. She was just waking-up. She-too was Dshackled to her chair. The Goat/Sheep-evolved woman looked at me as I looked at her. She asked me something in her language. 823 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t know it. I answered back in my language that I didn’t understand. I suddenly-gradually realized that people were speaking, or trying to converse. To be rude, the sound of the place was like a barnyard, with Sheep-voices, Goat-voices, Horse-voices, Jackal-voices, and Cat-hisses all-going off. The more people that tried to converse with their neighbors, the more people woke up, the louder the room got, the more chaotic the cacophony of languages. I could barely understand some of the questions and answers that people spoke. At least ten different languages were represented on the spaceplane. I only knew oneand-a-half. The conversation were to the effect of: “Where the fuck am I?” “Sorry, I don’t understand?” “Oh, you’re speaking that language.” “Yes. What happened to you?” The Sheep/Goat-evolved woman looked-at me, and asked, “Where am I?”
BUGBUG – image of sheep/goat-evolved woman
“I think we’re on a spaceplane,” I answered. The Zebra-evolved woman chimed-in. “We’ve all been sold as slaves.” She was using the angry-tense, instead of the past-present-tense or the future-tense. The conversation continued across me. 824 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Slaves? I was just on a spaceplane flight to go shopping at Niemen Marcus. What the hell happened?” (BUGBUG – nieman marcus) “Your spaceplane was hijacked. Weren’t you alerted not to travel?” The Zebrawoman calmed-down to informative-tense. Someone from the other-side of the Sheep/Goat-woman chimed-in, but I didn’t understand. She momentarily looked at the other person, decided that the Zebrawoman was better informed, and returned her attention to the Zebra-woman. “No,” answered the Sheep/Goat-evolved woman. “We only had news that there was a war in the cats. That’s a long ways away.” The Zebra-woman gave a knowing look. “There’s war everywhere. Your government mislead you.” “What about my children?” “Where were they?” “At home.” “Don’t worry about them now.” Concern was in her voice. “Someone will take care of them.” “Not bloody likely. They’re terrors.”
Just-then, the spaceplane landed. All of the cabin-lights turned on. The Simian-accented announcer spoke, “We will be unlatching you one-by-one. You will be transferred to another spaceplane. Needless to say, do not cause a problem, and no problems will be caused for you.” “What did she say?” asked the terrified Sheep-Goat woman. 825 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I began to translate. The announcer read the same line in a different language. We must have been near the back. A Simian-person unlocked the Sheep/Goat-evolved woman. She was stood-up, and walked down the aisle. I was unlocked next. I didn’t put up a fight, but I slowed-down to wait for the Zebra-woman. Once unlocked, she stood-up proudly and defiantly. The three of us walked out of the triangular spaceplane. Our wrists had manacles on them, with a self-retracting cord. The small cord had been long-enough for our arms to be locked to the spaceplane-chair armrests. As soon as we were unlocked, and let the cord coil within the wrist-manacles, our wrists came-together. We could not them pull-them apart. The cord only ever wound-up. It did not release its tension. There were no steps going down, just an elevated causeway that we walked on. It was made of plywood, with plasti-steel balustrades. Twenty-meters down, the causeway jogged right. It was then that I realized that our spaceplane had landed on the top of a very-tall building, overlooking an infinitely-huge city. The downtown area was perhaps onehundred the size of New York City. It was dusk. Most of the building’s lights were on. (BUGBUG – new York city) I never learned the name of the city, or of the planet, but at the risk of copyright violation, I will call the city (and planet) “Trantor”. In Isaac Asimov’s “Foundationand-Empire” science-fiction series, Trantor was the capital of the galaxy, with a population of forty-billion. This planet’s population might have been eighteen-billion. 826 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I had never been to anything larger than a large-town, with two small shoppingmalls. The wealth and power of the Hominids awed me. We were low-tech country-bumpkins compared to them. The entire population of my suburb would have fit into one of the high-rises I saw. I saw tens-of-thousands of high-rises from the rooftop airport. “How the fuck are we going to fight that?” asked the Zebra-woman to herself. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to be known as a bad slave, particularly if the Hominids had that much wealth, particularly if that would mean that we would all ultimately be enslaved. We didn’t have too-much time to gawk. The crowd pushed us further. Fifty more-meters down the causeway and we were only half-way down the building’s length. We had another right-turn. And into a smaller shuttle. Not quite… We were stopped by some Simians. We watched the twenty-person shuttle in front take-off. Another one landed within minutes. I didn’t notice where it came from… because we had a force-shield over the top of us… which I didn’t notice either. Nor did I notice that I failed to perceive a starlit sky. The sky was mere grey… or rather… the lack of any color whatsoever. 827 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The door of the newly-landed shuttle opened quickly. We were ushered in. We sat down on bench-seats against the side-walls of the shuttle. The shuttle was similar to the one on “2001: A Space Odyssey”, but larger. (BUGBUG – 2001) Two Simians entered with us. A Hominid flew the shuttle. They ran an efficient operation. Within two minutes of boarding, we were off, and flying through hyperspace. I had never been in hyperspace before, but I had seen it on television. It was distinctly violet-cyan. Within five minutes, Simian flight-attendants came through the cabin with tangerineflavored drink in paper-cups. Most of us could hold the drinks in our hands, despite the handcuffs. If we couldn’t, the Simians very-politely helped us. One at a time, we were led forward to the very-small toilet. A herd of angry enslaved Mammaloids makes a mess of the toilets. Much-worse than any ocean-crossing or continent-crossing airplane flight you have ever been on. After the toilet breaks, we were all fed sandwiches. We had our choice of vegetarian, turkey, spam, or tuna-fish. The Simian flight-attendants offered-us the choices with cute Simian humor. All they could do was make a bad situation decision, better lessbad. None of us spoke. Two seats down, someone actually tried to start-up a conversation, but the Simian flight-attendants gave them a very-nasty look. (Some Simian fight-attendants are telepathically informing me – Mike – that particularly gabby passengers get sandwiches shoved in their open mouths.) The flight took only half an hour. 828 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was the third spaceplane flight I had taken in my life. I wondered how I would be able to call my mother from Hominid space.
WELCOME The shuttle came-out of hyperspace a kilometer above a green landscape of oaks and maples. I could barely see the landscape from the front-window of the shuttle. We soon landed. Within two minutes, the doors opened. The Simian flight-attendants took-up their positions just outside of the shuttle. Two other Simians got us up, and ushered us out the back of the shuttle. They had a particularly difficult time getting the Zebra-woman to stand up. She was quite tall, and couldn’t stand erect in the shuttle. I noticed this as I looked backwards. In an odd sort of way, the Sheep/Goat-evolved woman, in front of me, and the Zebra-woman, behind, were the only friends I had. I stepped down from the shuttle onto a green lawn. Bollards with colored ribbons guided us to an awning-tent. Underneath the awning tent was a table, with two Hominids sat. They weren’t actually Hominids. Animal-people, and one reptilian-person, were queued-up. We were allowed to approach the tent two at a time. It looked like the people were filling out paperwork. The whole scene reminded me of a picnic, or a rural farming-fair. The shuttle took-off. 829 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The tall Zebra-woman had someone gotten in-front of me, by about three people. When I got to the end of the bollards, two people were in-front of me, filling out paperwork at the tent. The Zebra-woman was just being led away. At the edge of the bollards, I first-encountered Hominid dwarves. They prefer to be called VCH’s (vertically-challenged Hominids). They are a separate race of Hominids. They are known for their trustworthiness, good-naturedness, and sense of humor. The first thing they did was say, “Welcome to Flavorhaven,” and then they unlocked my handcuffs. Everything was very surreal for me. I don’t know which direction to explain the surrealness. Four days ago I was painting my bathroom pink. Three days ago, in the middle of the night, I won a free flight off the planet, to ensure that my race’s genetics were preserved. Two days ago I was in a butt-ugly Hominid space-hotel room. Or was that yesterday? This morning, I awoke on a spaceplane, manacled. And then I saw the hugest-city in the universe… not quite the hugest I am told. And then I am warmly greeted as a slave at “Flavorhaven”, whatever that is, by some Hominids that I never knew existed. And then they unlock-me. And then I am ushered to the tent-booth, where a VCH (NOT a dwarf) asks me my name. “Lissen Krim,” I answered. “Just a minute.” He spoke the version of Galactic-language that I understood. 830 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The VCH then fingered through some index cards, and pulled one out. He also pulledout a green packet from underneath the cloth-covered table. “Here is your nametag. You will only need to wear it today during our orientation.” He handed me the nametag. “These are your orientation papers. They tell you about the history of Flavorhaven, your role here, and a guide to your hotel. Included in the back are two free vouchers for lattes.” Meanwhile, I tried to find a pin on the nametag so I got attach it to my muslin top. “No need for a pin, miss. They just stick.” The man reached over… he was sitting on a high-stool… politely took the nametag from my hands, and stuck it to my top, just below my collarbone. “There you go… and here are your papers.” He handed me my papers. “Have a nice day.” I replied with a “Thank you.” What was I saying about surreal?
ORIENTATION A pony-evolved woman led-me away from the registration booth to an orientationtalk tent. There were about eight tents, seven for major language groups, and one for people who had no common language.
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November 12, 2011 My tent was half-full. I saw the Zebra-woman there. I missed the first few minutes of the presentation… … as well as most of it. I was quite tired, and my mind wasn’t working well. (Part of the reason my mind wasn’t working was because of all the “physics temperature” changes I had experienced over the last few days.) The talk was given by a deer-evolved woman in an elegant dress. Slavery was never mentioned. The orientation-talk felt more like a “Welcome employee, to our corporation” talk. But after having listened to the talk, I didn’t understand why I was there. First discussed was the nature of the grounds. Flavorhaven was situated on a hundred-thousand square-kilometers of pristine woodland. Power-point slide-images of brooks, fishing ponds, an old railway, and sugar-maples cycled on a large screen behind the woman. (BUGBUG – power point) Then came the discussion about how guests arrived. They arrived by small spaceplane shuttles. Some would take the old railway in for a novel experience. Photographs flicked in the background of arrivals. No Hominids were shown in the photographs. Only arriving Simian guests. The guests arrived to see, experience, and enjoy the mansion, which was six-hundred meters, by three-hundred meters. It was seven stories high, with two underground basements for facilities.
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November 12, 2011 Ten thousand guests could be housed in a pinch, but five-thousand was morecomfortable. “We like to keep a guest-to-staff ratio of two.” “Three quarters of the staff were Simian. One quarter VCH’s. And half the staff were animal-people.” The incorrect summing is intentional. Seven-hundred-and-fifty of the staff were Simian. Two-hundred-and-fifty were VCHs and/or Hominids and/or Aussies. One-thousand were enslaved animal-people. Slavery was never mentioned. The guests would enter by the main staircase. The photograph was displayed.
BUGBUG – image of main staircase
The guests would then be broken into groups, with escort guides, “Such as myself [the deer-evolved woman].” After a guided-tour they would be handed a brochure of the facilities, and allowed to do whatever they liked. The facilities included lodging, dining halls, discussion rooms, indoor sports, outdoor activities, hideaways, virtual-reality rooms, as well as some fun-courses, like cookingclasses and language-classes. Slides flipped behind the woman as she spoke. Your jobs will almost-certainly be as general concierges. You are there to point guests to activities, help them when they have difficulties, and to look nice. Slides of animalpeople working in Flavorhaven were shown. A tall horse-evolved woman woman stood up and interrupted. “You fucking bitch. Don’t give us the scam. We are slaves here, and you are nothing but a slave-master’s cunt.” “Please calm down. We will explain all of this to you.” “I will not FUCKING calm down! We are FUCKING here FUCKING illegally!” 833 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A Okapi-evolved woman was sitting near the front, watching the crowd. She stood up and in front of the podium, semi-rudely pushing the deer-evolved woman aside. “My name is Krooh. I am the local representative of the Furrow. I will talk to anyone concerned afterwards. Do not harass Chiwah here, for something that she cannot correct. Thank you.” Krooh pointed the abusive Horse-woman to a location outside the tent. They had a heated conversation while Chiwah continued. Chiwah’s slides had advanced too-quickly. She backtracked her slides with a remotecontrol. “Where was I…” She continued. “You will be general concierges. Wait. I did that.” Chiwah was clearly flustered. We would receive training over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, our accommodation, while not as luxurious as the mansion, was quite good. We would have access to a sports room with table-tennis, a swimming pool, a video-arcade, and all-you-can eat cafeteria with all-day service, a beauty salon, a tailor, and a karaoke-room. Slides flicked behind Chiwah. If it weren’t for the slavery, the job sounded better than any summer-camp I had ever attended. “We will now escort you to your rooms. You will all be given free open tour-bus rides to our dormitories. Those of you who are too-large to fit into the transports can wait for a truck, or you can walk. It is only a kilometer away.” “Thank you.” We didn’t hoot, stomp our feet, or clack our chairs, as would be polite for the end of a talk. 834 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Everyone got up, almost at once. Some deer-evolved and goat-evolved people pointed us to the open-air tour-buses. I accidentally left my brochure pack behind, unopened. I didn’t bother going back. A line of tour-buses was parked on a patterned-brick road, about one-and-a-half lanes wide. I got on the third tour-bus to leave. It was packed-full of unhappy people. The ride went up hill. For awhile, I could see the enormous mansion, in the distance, to my left. We continued along the road, through a forest of oaks, elms, maples, and sycamores. Then the roadway descended to below-ground level, and travelled through about one-hundred meters of chasm to what looked-like a posh hotel entryway. We were all ushered through immaculate glass-doorways, and onto ugly airport-style carpeting. For some reason I wondered if I had left my bags behind. Someone pointed us towards the reception desk. A Simian-woman greeted me. “Hello… Can I take a look at your tag?” She craned her neck to look at my identity. Then she typed something into her computer. The Simian woman looked me over, and pronounced, “You look to be about a size eight.” She typed something else in. 835 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “If your clothes are too large, then please ask for smaller ones.” (That was a bit of Simian humor, as you will find out.) The woman rang a hemisphere bell on her desk. A you Simian male walked-up from behind me. “Jake, please take this young woman to room eight-hundred ninety-two. Thank you. She is size eight, class F clothing.” Jake didn’t say much. He was a bit shy. He gently grabbed my hand and led me down a maze of hallways. The further we proceeded into the building, the more-Spartan the linings and carpeting. My room was on the ground floor, half way down a concrete-block hallway with a textured floor. It had a one-person bed, a dresser, and a mirror. And, a barred window looking outside. I actually found it much friendlier than the Aussie space-station hotel-room I had stayed in. Jake held up his finger and said “Wait here” in about five languages. He closed the door. It locked. Two minutes later, he returned with a box of “F” clothing, size eight. “Clothes,” he said. And then he handed me my room key, and left. 836 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WANDERING AROUND THE DORMS I opened my box of clothes. It was three sets of bikinis, one hot-pink, the other sedate-red, and the third sexy-purple. I decided to wear my muslin top and skirt for now. With a key in hand, I decided to wander around. It was obvious enough that I was a slave, but I might as well see what the facilities were like. Food would also be appreciated. After all, I was on holiday… kind of. I was supposed to be missing from my job for at least six months. “Hi mom, I’m a slave… and, oh yea… I’m on another planet.” I wondered if I could find a payphone. And I was embarrassed when I was a teenager and couldn’t get home from summercamp. I walked out of my room, and locked the door behind me. I double-checked the room number, eight ninety-two-A. The hallway ended twenty meters off to my left, so I went right. I soon came to a Y-intersection. I went left. Cool. I wasn’t far from the recreation room. The area was as large as the school gymnasium where I taught. 837 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Other people were in the room, playing ping-pong. There was also a pool table. And a few racing video-games. They seemed awfully happy for slaves. And they were wearing more than bikinis. Maybe I’d be given more-reasonable clothes later. Two sides of the large room had barred windows, like mine. I just noticed some drink dispensers off to my right. And people were waiting in front of the left wall, about fifty meters down. Was that food? I walked down to the queue, veering out so I could see if there were any fast-food signs hanging out. Despite all of the people mulling about, no-one said hello to me. They were all Animal-people. I didn’t see any Simians, VCH’s, or Hominids. A ping-pong ball flew in front of me. A short Mouse-evolved woman ran in front of me and fumbled-it up. A tall Zebra-woman walked past. She was different than the woman from earlier, I think. I realized the two different Deer-species were standing in the food queue… It was obviously a food queue, since there was a large open window, with a counter, and kitchen behind. One of the ping-pong players was a Rat. I looked back and noticed a Lizard driving a racecar video-game. And that was just half of us. We were all different. 838 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 None of us were the same Race. We most-likely couldn’t even speak the same language… which should have been obvious to me given the plane-ride in. Things just got curiouser and curiouser. I got to the fast-food counter. Two Simians manned the cash-registers. But there weren’t any cash-registers. “Do I have to pay?” I asked. A Simian woman looked at me, and noticed my key-ring. She swept her outstretched arm over the menu board. I couldn’t read a word of it. What could I order? Having no clue, I looked behind the counter-people to see if there were any meals waiting to be served. I noticed some lettuce-salads. I pointed to one. The woman pointed at once also, and nodded her head. “Yes, I’ll take that.” She grabbed it. Without asking, she pulled a large paper-plastic cup from a cup-dispenser and filled it with water… or at least I thought it was water.
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November 12, 2011 “Do I need to pay?” I double-checked. The Simian-woman put both items on a tray and pushed the try towards me. “Thank you,” I replied. She waved at me. The woman might have been Chimpanzee-evolved. I wouldn’t have known the difference. I took the tray and walked away slowly, just in case I had to pay. I didn’t find any tables inside. To my left was a doorway with a Simian Chimpanzee-evolved man standing in front. The glass door lead outside, where I could see a green with some circular resin tables. I walked up to the door to go outside. The man looked at my lunch, and then my key and key-ring. I held it up for him. Satisfied, he pressed a button on the door and let me out. Not bad for being a slave… although kind-of like being in prison. I had paid for a “be a prisoner for the afternoon” tour. I had to pay for my food on that tour. Outside was some blacktop in front of the door. A few circular resin tables, with umbrellas, were on the grass. People were throwing Frisbees around on the grass. Again, they were all different. I think one of them was Pine-Martin-evolved. He (or she) was very short. A guard stood on the outside, perhaps Gorilla-evolved. 840 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I sat down at a table, alone. And ate my salad. I didn’t exactly appreciate it. Some nuts and something sweet would be more tasty. Anyhow, I had asked for it, so I ate it. I wondered if there was a fence to keep us in. Most-likely further out of view, beyond the hill. No-one sat with me. I noticed a Gecko-evolved person fetch a landed aerobe, and toss it to the PineMartin. Four days ago, or was it three, I was worrying what color to paint my bathroom. I sipped from the drink. It tasted like crap, despite being clear and water-looking. Having finished my meal, I looked around for a trash can. I couldn’t find any outside, so I walked up to the glass door to be let in. The guard looked at my keychain and let me in. I handed the used tray back at the food counter. Where to now? Even more people had congregated. I needed to check out the other hallway leaving the Y-intersection. I was just-about up to the car-racing arcade-games, seemingly hogged by Geckoevolved people, when a woman stopped me. She was Elk-evolved, wearing non-bikini clothes. She had a tracking device in her hand, and pointed in my direction. 841 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When she approached, she held up the tracking device, so I could see. Displayed on its screen was my photograph, as well as other text that I couldn’t read. The woman motioned for me to follow her. Kind-of rude like, a quick arm-wave, and then she walked down the corridor. She twisted her head back to make sure I was following. The woman led me back up towards my room, unfortunately. Not towards the unexplored hallway. She took me beyond my room, and to the end of the hallway, a dead-end. There we stood for a few minutes. I had no idea why. And then I was motioned to my dorm room, which she unlocked. The woman let me in. She visually inspected my room to make sure everything was there, and then tickedoff an item on her electronic pad. She saw my clothing selection. And then spoke in her language. I think she said, “We will get you some casualclothes when we can.” With that, the woman handed me a beeper, with a text display on it. “Time,” she said as she pointed to an hour-and-minute display in the corner. “Work alarm.” She pointed to another time. “Ten hours,” she said, holding up one hand… which had four fingers on it. “We will pick you up tomorrow morning when the alarm goes off.” She had a verystrong accent. It was very difficult to understand her. 842 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Okay,” I answered. “Be here. Ten hours.” I pointed to the alarm. “Ten hours. Here. Tomorrow.” The Elk-woman huffed, and walked out the door. It closed behind me. I heard the key placed in the door, and the lock being set.
TOUR AROUND THE MEGA-MANSION Knock. Knock. Knock. I woke up. Not wanting to mess-up my only non-risqué clothes, I pulled-off my muslin top and skirt. “Uumf,” someone said outside. Shit. Did I miss the appointment? I got up and unlocked my door. I peeped through. Outside was a walking Goanna. She pointed to her wrist. “One moment,” I said. I didn’t close the door on her because I was, after all, a slave. I did have to put on my clothes. I knew that I should put on my bikini. I walked over to my bed at put my top on, the sedate-red one. I grabbed my bikini-bottom and accidentally turned around. 843 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Goanna woman was already in the room, watching me. A TAD embarrassing. But I pulled-up my bikini-bottom while she was watching. Just then, the alarm on my beeper went off. I had attached it to my keychain last night. I fumbled with the alarm, and eventually pressed enough buttons to turn it off. I returned my attention to the Goanna-woman. She was wearing a super-hero outfit. No mask over the eyes. She had a bright yelloworange tabard, with tights and a smock. And a cherry-red cape. She waved at me. “What should I do?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if she understood me. She turned around, arm bent at the elbow and forming a flipped-L, and she waved me to follow… without looking me in the eye. I grabbed my keys, thought that I should visit the toilet but didn’t have time, and followed her. The Goanna-woman appeared to have sparkling metal star-shapes glued onto her tail. I followed her. She ambled, literally ambled, down the hallway, and went down the right-branch of the Y-intersection… the one I hadn’t visited the night before. We walked onto airport-style obnoxiously-colored carpeting. Fifteen meters down the hallway, and the Goanna unlocked a door on the right wall.
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November 12, 2011 She opened the door and motioned for me to pass through, using a sweep of her right hand. I caught up to her, and walked through. We entered a wide concrete stairwell that went down. The Goanna-person found it difficult to walk down the stairs with her tail, despite the handrail. I followed. The stairs were difficult for me because the treads were toonarrow. I didn’t think to ask any questions. Rather, I didn’t feel that it was my place to ask any questions. I didn’t know it at the time, but my silence was encouraged by some telepathic “mood-music”. Three stories down, and we passed through a glass doorway. The tunnel we entered was painted jet-black, with neon colored lights barelyilluminating the ground. The ceiling was an arch, expanding into a twenty-meter floor. On the right side of the tunnel were two an escalator-walkway, like you find in airports. The right walkway went forward. The left when backwards. An electric airport golf-cart drove past. It had a spinning yellow “alert” light, and beeped continuously. The golf-cart was driven by a Simian person, and had several Animal-people sitting on back. My Goanna-guide stepped onto the walkway, and was carried away by the escalatorwalkway. I hopped on also. I had never been on one. I didn’t bother to walk. The automatic walkway did the work for me. We sped past some more golf-carts, hauling props back-and-forth. 845 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was amazed by the stylish colored lights. Half a kilometer later the automatic walkway came to an end, and I had to step-off and walk by myself. A short thirty-meter walk, past some more doors, and we once-again climbed onto an automatic walkway. Two more automatic walkways, and we came to a twenty-meter wide staircase, at the end of the underground hemi-tube. The Goanna-woman stopped to make sure I was there, and then ambled up the steps. I followed. Three stories up, we arrived at an archway of glass, ten-meters high. Through the glass, I saw a large lobby with ugly airport-style multicolored printed-carpeting. On the other side were Animal-people. And on the other side were Hominid men dressed in blue military uniforms. We were entering enemy territory. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable wearing a bikini. The Goanna-woman opened a door for me, and ushered me through. The other side was a completely different mood. The glass arch-wall and doors that we walked through were mirrored on this side. The Hominid men watched as we came through, like they were picking-up dates. Were they picking-up dates? Was I to be a prostitute? I didn’t like that thought. Not interested in the super-hero Goanna, but perhaps interested in me, the Goannawoman led me to the right. 846 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Just outside the lobby, in a hallway, I was led to a very-tall Elk-evolved woman. She wore an elegant gown. The Goanna-woman waved me goodbye and then disappeared. “Krim,” the Elk-woman said. “My name is Jessel. I will be your guide for the day.” I didn’t say anything. The telepathic “mood music” encouraged me to remain silent. “This is our main entry lobby.” “Follow me.” I followed the woman down the hallway, to a quiet spot. “Those rubes [Hominids] are here to pick up sexy-looking guides. Be careful. They might decide to rape you. If they are in the process of raping you, press any button on your keychain in panic, or just think-aloud that you are in trouble. Someone will come to save you.” “They aren’t that bad at the moment.” Her eyes narrowed. “They will be later-on tonight when they get intoxicated.” “Just remember that no-matter how friendly they appear, they are fucking dangerous.” “With that settled, I’ll explain a bit more about our facilities.” I was walked another twenty meters to a blanked-out wall-screen. “Touch the screen.” I did so. It turned on. “This screen will only turn on for you. The rubes cannot use it. Do not EVER use it in front of them. Got it?” 847 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I nodded yes with my eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.” “Press the emergency call-out button, the blue box with the telephone.” I did so. A video-link of a wolf-evolved person appeared. “How can I help you?” asked the wolf-evolved person, translated into my language using speech-synthesis. Jessel replied. “Just testing the system, Henry. Thank you.” The video shut off. Jessel turned to me. “Remember that one. It may save your life, and ours.” “The yellow button with the phone-book on it will show you a map of the hotel.” “Don’t press it now. It’s more fun if you don’t press it.” I didn’t press the icon. “The green box with the fork and knife will direct YOU to places to eat. Do NOT send the Homi-fucks there.” “We do NOT want them to know where we eat. Ever.” “Last week, they discovered our secret eating locations, and began a brawl, which lead to five of us being killed.” “I will show you around some more.” I followed the Elk-woman further. “Don’t worry about the display. It will shut-off as soon as you walk away.”
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November 12, 2011 We walked right down a hallway, and into a very-long esplanade. (BUGBUG – esplanade name?) The wide gallery-corridor had inset doorways leading-off both sides. “You have no clue why you’re here, do you?” “No,” I answered as we walked. “I will show you.” One of the alcoves off the hallway had no doors. It did have a textured rubber floor, grey in color. Much-nicer than the ugly carpeting. The entire experience so-far felt like a Las Vegas hotel, although slightly less-tacky. (BUGBUG – las vegas, MGM grand) I was facing the wall when I felt the floor moved. I turned around to see that the wide exit to the hallway was frosted-over, looking like a grey glass. Half a minute later, the grey faded to invisibility, and we were on another floor. We walked into a sunny atrium, with an arched green-house-like ceiling above. Hominids were wandering everywhere, looking around as if they were in an art gallery. They clustered into groups for four or five, and were often followed by an Animal-person. Most of them had much-less slinky clothing-on than I did. “This is our main atrium.” It was immense, forty meters high. Forty meters wide. And one-hundred meters long. The flooring was marble. The walls were whiter-marble. Plymphs without statues were scattered-about. “Your job is to do what they’re doing,” said the irate Elk-woman, pointing at the Animal-people following the Hominids around. “You are to look pretty,” which you are to them. 849 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The woman led me to the right, and into an art-gallery room. Paintings hung on the wall. “You need to memorize the layout of this maze. You will over time. They will not. They are only here for a day or two. They are imbeciles.” We walked to a touch-screen, like I had used downstairs. “If you need any information about the displays, do NOT use the touch-panel. Ever. We don’t want the Hom-idiots knowing that they function.” “If any happen to know your language, which they won’t, then pretend that you speak a different language.”
Jessel led me to another room. “Just stand here. If a Hominid-clique comes-along and drags you with them, do what they want. I have to go.” I nodded to Jessel. She took off… although she actually observed me interact with the men. I stood in a sculpture room, with marble sculptures of Hominid heads. I didn’t feel threatened, but I was worried about having to interact with them. Despite Jessel’s warning, they didn’t seem very scary. A few Hominid-only groups walked by and admired the artwork. They ignored me, for the most-part. They perhaps looked-on me with disdain, eying my bra. Thankfully, they didn’t harass me. As I understood it, I was to just stand around until a group picked me up. If none of them picked me up, I was to just stand around. I had no-idea how long I had to stand
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November 12, 2011 around before I got-off work, but I assumed than in about six hours my shift would be over. I would then ask someone (not a Hominid) if my shift was over. A different group of Hominid officers came up to me, and actively stared at me, as if I were one of the sculptures. They walked away. I had to pee. Ten more minutes, and all of the Hominid men left the room. As well as all of the non-Hominids. I really had to pee. Toilet breaks would obviously be allowed. No-one was around. I could always return to the room after the toilet break. Coming out of the elevator, I had noticed what-looked like a toilet sign, of the main atrium. I quietly made my way there, and saw an icon-sign of a person standing upright. It might be a toilet. I walked in. No-one was there. It was a white-tiled room with urinals on the wall. I had never seen a urinal before, but they were obviously toilet facilities. Peeing standing-up wasn’t particularly doable, but I dropped by bikini-bottom and tried to urinate standing up. The urinals had a V-shaped basin at just below crotch height. 851 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I mostly-missed. Half-way through urination, a group of Hominid men walked in. They glanced over at them, and tried to hurry-up my urine stream. They seemed to think the whole scene was funny. I thought it was embarrassing. I hadn’t thought that men might interrupt my toilet-break. I must have chosen the wrong-gender toilets. Oh well, I’d chose-better next time. I was standing in front of a urinal, by then finished urinating. My bikini-bottom was dragged just-above my knees. The five men walked behind me, and surrounded me in an arc. I began to get nervous. They were just gawking and laughing. No big deal. Then one of them pulled my goat-tail. Which was actually a very-rude thing to do. But I knew I was a slave, and they were not. I let the matter pass. Then men chucked. I pulled my bikini-bottom up. And walked out of the bathroom. I quickly made my way back to the sculpture room, and stood by one of the urns.
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November 12, 2011
THAT AFTERNOON I stood in the sculpture room at least an hour. I didn’t look at the sculpture. I concluded that I was supposed to be part of the sculptures, kind of. No-one came in to tell me to go elsewhere. Hominid men wandered in-and-out, some with gowned Deer-woman in front of them… just to make sure they didn’t slink-off. A Fox-evolved man eventually approached me. With a very-strong accent he said, “Krim, they are all preparing for their meal. You should go down there.” And then he guessed that I didn’t know where to go. “Here, let me show you your way.” The man gestured to my pager, which I handed to him. He pressed some buttons, and handed it back to me. “Just follow the pager’s directions.” The Fox-man walked off. I glanced at my pager. On it was a compass arrow, with a number next to it. Arrow? I went in the direction of the arrow, and noticed it change as I wandered off the path. I followed the arrow out of the galleries into the atrium. There, it led me right. 853 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No-one was around. The arrow led me to the end of the atrium, where I got into a very-large elevator. No-one was around. The elevator automatically went down, but only one floor down. The previous elevator that I took had climbed two or three floors up. When the grey-screen faded away, I found myself in a wide-but-low hallway. The carpeting was god-awful, just like before. The hallway had us standing there. I followed my pager’s compass to an empty spot, where it beeped at me. In my language, the words “Stand here” flashed on-and-off for half a minute. So I stood there. Everyone else stood, silent. Looking at one-another. One Deer-woman did her nails. Across the hallway from me were some payphones. I made a note to remember their location. I might-just figure-out how to call my mother tomorrow. One of the dining rooms must have let the Hominid men out. The all came out in a crowd, like what happens after a session at a conference. They knew what they were supposed to do. Three men, this time with sandy-blond hair, came up to me. One of them gently took-hold of my hand and led me down the hallway. Were they going to try to have sex with me? 854 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The man was very gentle. Another man in the group held a multipage brochure with a map. All of them smelled like they had consumed a narcotic drink. They weren’t drunk. It might have had an ecstasy-like effect. (BUGBUG – ecstasy) That bothered me slightly. But they did little more than lead me down a few hallways, and into an elevator. I didn’t know it at the time, but some elevators wouldn’t work unless an animalperson was with the Hominids. Aussies are very-clever psychological manipulators. We emerged from the top of the elevator, overlooking the atrium. It was now night… or at least dusk. The scene was beautiful. The men looked around, mostly-ignoring me. They led me down a staircase into the main atrium. I followed them as they slowly walked through the atrium. They admired the artwork, mostly steel wire sculptures. I felt more at ease with them. We went right, and into another elevator. A few floors down, we emerged into an enormous video arcade. It had video-game machines lining the walls, virtual-reality headsets, and an airhockey table. In the corner were some pool-tables. One of the men said “Thank you” in another language. I didn’t understand the words, but I got the gist. I said “Thank you” back. 855 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He handed me a piece of paper. The three wandered-off and played air-hockey. I stood there for a moment, and then looked at the paper. It was a blue photocopy, about the size of a dollar-bill. On it was some text, and an illustration of a sketch of a cup of coffee. A tip. This wasn’t a bad job. I put the tip in a pouch attached to my bikini-bottom. I also kept my keys in there. What now? I guessed that I should wait-around down in the arcade until someone else picked me up. I waited for at least an hour. I was clueless though. At least five groups of Hominid men arrived with Animal-people docents while I was there. The docents would stand-around for a few minutes, and then wander-off. I didn’t see where they wandered-off to. But they always wandered-off. I was thinking about following the next group that came down when I heard a Hominid man swearing at the elevator behind me. I looked around. The automatic elevator would descent to the floor for him. He was pissed-off at the machine. 856 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But then he saw me. He grabbed my hand, and dragged me in front of the elevator. Within half a minute, the elevator appeared. He swore. Obviously, the elevator would only descent when I was around. The man pulled me by the hand into the elevator. Up we went, back-into a hallway off the atrium. I walked out with the man, expecting to follow him. He held his hands up, indicating that I should stay. And he walked down a hallway, leaving me behind. No-one was in the hallway. Deciding not to return to the arcade, I walked down the atrium to the first elevator I had taken that day. It returned me to the ground floor, where I had entered. I made my was to the room with the window-arch, where I had entered the building. Tired Hominid men were ambling about. I stood there for a few hours, but no-one picked me up. My beeper went off. I looked at the screen. It only showed a compass arrow, no text. I followed the compass-arrow through a door in the mirrored glass-arch, down the wide staircase, and into the tube. I hopped on a moving-walkway, and eventually found my way back to the dorms. 857 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Rather than leading me to the staircase where I had descended from, I was directedoff at an earlier exit. The glass exit-doors unlocked for me, and I climbed up the staircase, my shift ended. I emerged near the main lobby of the dorms, where I had first entered. The wall decorations and carpeting were distinctly nicer here than near my room. I was very tired. My beeper still pointed me to a destination. Rather than pointing me back to my room, it led me down another hall and to a sitdown restaurant. A Simian waiter saw me, gently grabbed my beeper to have a look at it, and led me to a table. A minute later, he poured me a glass of water, and left the beaker on the table. He showed me a picture-menu, and let me look it over. When I returned a few minutes later, the place was empty, I pointed to the greensalad with red-meat strips. The man bowed as he took my menu. The Simian-man may have been Chimpanzee-evolved. I didn’t see a tail. Fifteen minutes later, the man returned with a huge plate of food. It was delicious. The water tasted funny. When I was finished, I got up and found a different waiter. “Do I have to pay?” 858 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He angled his head in a question. “Money?” He got the word then. “No,” he said, and sliced both of his hands outward at waste level. “Really?” “Aguash”, he said. Or something like that. I thought it meant “Free”. “Thank you, then,” I said. I walked slowly out of the room, just in case I really was supposed to pay. I didn’t want to get blamed for running off without paying. My pager beeped. The compass reappeared. I followed it to my room. Looking through the bars on my window, I saw that it was dark outside. And then stripped-off my bikini top and bottom. “What a weird fucking day,” I thought as I sat down on my bed. My job was to act as a biological key that allowed the Hominid men to use the elevators. And, I was supposed to use the elevators. I was too-tired to wander about, despite only having worked for four to six hours. How would I know when to wake up for my next shift? I looked at my pager. 859 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 An alarm was already set for ten-hours from now. I lay down in bed, leaning against my pillow. I thought about my situation. I was a slave. But it wasn’t that bad. If they weren’t that bad, they would eventually free me. So I thought. I’d have to call my mother and tell her about this.
MID-DAY Thump! Not a knock. Someone unlocked my door, and opened it. The short Elk-woman who had found me with the scanner two days before peaked in. “I’m getting up,” I answered. “I need to change.” The woman got the message and closed the door. I put on my hot-pink bikini today. I’d have to figure-out where I could do laundry. I transferred my beeper and keys to the bikini-bottom’s pouch. I glanced at my alarm. I was being woken-up half an hour early. Standing outside my door was the Elk-woman. She didn’t say hello, and didn’t stand around while I closed and locked my dormroom door. 860 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I had to chase after her at a speed-walk. At the Y-intersection, the woman took the right fork, towards the staircase I had walked down yesterday. But then she walked past the staircase doors, to a breakfast-stand. It had been closed last night when I walked past. The short-Elk pointed to a bread-wrapped egg, and showed her key. She began devouring her breakfast. I pointed to the same food-item, while holding my key. The Chimpanzee-evolved person handed me the egg-and-endive breakfast-wrap. “Thank you.” I got a head-nod down from the quiet food-server. I was only two bites into my breakfast wrap by the time the short-Elk dashed-off down the hallway. I followed. We passed the sit-down restaurant I attended the previous night. And then we came to a hallway sharply-angling left. I followed the Elk-woman down that. Through a glass doorway. Down a narrow staircase. And into a narrow underground service corridor. My beeper went off about this point. I shut it off as we walked. The corridor was about one-and-a-half meters wide, made of painted-grey concrete. It went on for a kilometer-and-a-half. 861 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At first, we passed a few staircases going up. Then nothing for most of the journey. And then narrow staircases going-up again. We took the second narrow-staircase on the right. We sped-walked all of the way, by the way. The woman led me up three floors of stairs. She unlocked a solid door, also painted grey. We emerged into an small seedy-looking hallway with ugly-as-shit carpeting… about one-grade more-tacky than the carpeting I saw the previous day. I was led to the right by the petite-Elk. “These,” she said with a strong accent, “are sex rooms.” She opened one of the doors to reveal a bed with a small-refrigerator next to it, and mirrors above. “If man takes you here, have sex. If man takes you here,” she said pointing to the hallway, “urinate.” We walked past two-hundred meters of rooms, and into a circular dome-room. “This is central hub.” I had my beeper in hand. The Elk-woman took it from me, and pressed a few buttons on it. And then she handed it back to me. I looked at the beeper screen but couldn’t see what she had done, other than create a small bell-icon on the screen’s upper right. I didn’t have time check that out, because the woman then sped-walked me out a corridor to the right.
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November 12, 2011 We entered a two-meter wide hallway, and climbed a cascading series of stairs. The hallway was moderately more-pleasant than the previous ones because the granite stair-treads precluded tacky carpeting. Half-way-up the hallway’s elevation-gain, I was led through a door to my right. We entered an enormous library, perhaps twelve meters high, by fifty meters, by a hundred meters. The walls were all shelved, up to twelve meters, and covered with books. Roller-slide ladders allowed access. “If you find a book on the ground, put it on the right shelf.” The woman picked up a paperback book off the ground, there weren’t many. She showed me a numbered-sticker glued onto the binding. She waved her hand to the approximate location of where the book should go, and then tossed the book back on the ground. There were no tables or chairs in the library. Just a huge, antiquated-looking globe. And a smaller globe for a moon. One glass door at the far end of the room looked like it went outside. We didn’t go that way. Half-way up the room, on the left, was a doorway. The bookshelves were built around it. The woman opened the door and walked through. This room was a cube, most-likely twelve meters to a side. It was painted entirely glow-in-the-dark blue. Slowly spinning disco-lights twirled and sparkled across the walls. “This is a sex room. Avoid.” 863 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 In the corner of the room was a hidden door, which blended in with the wall. The door-handle was nothing more than a thin wire-loop. This time, the Elk-woman let me open the door. I pulled on the door-handle, and let the sunshine in. It wasn’t sunshine. We entered a sparsely populated greenhouse, with an antiquated iron scaffolding suspending huge plates of glass that let the sunlight in. But the glass wasn’t glass, and the sunlight was only artificial lights. The “glass” was nothing more than solid-white lights that produced simulated sunlight. “The potted plants can be used as weapons against them.” We reached the far end of the greenhouse, and left via a blue-painted door. We entered a sizable hallway, filled with cliques of blue-clad Hominid men. They were waiting… One group instantly grabbed the short-Elk’s hand. As she was led away, she looked back with a curse on her lower-lip. I had two chevalier sandy-haired men take my hands, one on each hand. Someone stood behind me, grabbed my bra-string, and unclasped it. My bra dropped away, and was tossed behind me. The three men, perhaps four, took me in a direction opposite the Elk woman. She had better and less sexually-suggestive clothing. I was led arm-in-arm down the hallway, other men hooting, smiling, and congratulating the three men as we walked past. Apparently, I was the first breasted woman they found, and there was some sort of masculinity-fraternity issue. 864 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The three men didn’t treat me badly. I was led into a large chandeliered dining-room. A Simian waiter walked us to a large circular table that could seat ten. He looked at my topless clothing, and I could tell, was going to comment that I didn’t comply with dress regulations. He must have decided that silence was the better part of peace. The “gentlemen” seated me first, pulling out my chair, letting me sit down, and pushing it in. The guy who nicked my bikini-top, sat down next to me, and played with my bikini. The two-others sat to either side. The table soon filled up with other blue-suited Hominid men. The man opposite me was obviously a commander. He wore a grey-uniform with lots of brass. Why had he been intentionally seated directly-opposite a topless Tahr? Why had the bikini-wielding man been seated next to me? It was some sort of male-joke thing. A Simian waiter arrived and handed everyone picture-menus. I was handed one, but one of the sandy-haired men took mine away. I actually appreciated the move, because I wasn’t certain if I was allowed to order. I was a slave, after-all. Blue-drinks arrived in large wine-glasses. They were the ecstasy-effect drinks. I was given water in a large wine-glass. 865 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Then men drank and talked, enjoying themselves. I didn’t understand what they spoke about. They didn’t bother me. The bikini-man eventually handed me my bikini-top, underneath the table. I looked at him with a bit of thanks, and tied it to my bikini-bottom so I wouldn’t lose it. Bread arrived with a cooked-garlic spread. I wasn’t offered any, and I didn’t try to take any. I was a slave, after-all. The commander occasionally glowered in my direction. I don’t think he was giving angry/intense looks at me though. I hardly warranted his attention. He must have been looking at the three men who accosted me. Why did they accost me just-outside the sex-wing of the mansion, then quickly remove my bra, and publicly walk me into a Hominid-only dining room? I only saw a few other Animal-people in the very-large dining-room, and they were distinctly wearing gowns. Had someone tried to embarrass the bikini-man? Was he somehow implicated in having had bestial-sex with me because of the charade? I felt sorry for him. The mains arrived. A Simian waiter put a huge lamb shank in front of me, glazed. I was-not vegetarian. The men must-have thought I was vegetarian. They must have thought I was being insulted and/or demeaned by eating meat. Furthermore, they must have concluded that lamb was the closest meat on the menu that would make me a cannibal. Before everyone-else began eating, I was handed a publicly handed sterling-silver fork by the one of the bikini-man’s friends… they may NOT have been friends. They looked at me, and prompted me to eat. 866 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I accepted the fork, and used it to separate a piece of meat from the bone. The meat was VERY tender. I took a bite. A few cameras flashed. The bikini-man was VERY embarrassed. Was I partaking in a mock wedding-dinner photograph? I finished half of my lamb-shank. I was too-full to eat the rest. Meanwhile, all of the Hominid men at the table talked and drank their blue-drinks. The commander on the opposite side of the table didn’t seem to glare in my direction for the rest of the meal. I just sat, watched, and looked around. No-one bothered me. The dining hall had divided windows placed about four meters above the ground, on all four walls. They were faux windows, issuing synthetic light. The walls were a cream-beige. Doors opened onto the dining-hall from all directions. Simian waiters bustled about, carrying trays of food to late-arriving guests. There weren’t very-many animal-people, and they were much-better dressed than I was. I still hadn’t put my bikini-top back on. I realized that I wasn’t going to be abused… much… but until someone told me to put my top on, I wasn’t going to do so. Then, the clinking of glasses erupted everywhere in the room. I was zoned-out by that time. Behind me, I briefly looked, a Hominid man stood-up and spoke. 867 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He was barely visible. His voice was amplified throughout the hall. He spoke for a few minutes, and then passed the microphone. Someone else spoke. And then the microphone was passed again. And then a deer-woman spoke in an odd language. I wasn’t watching the speakers. I turned-around to see her handing the microphone to another Hominid man. She was also wearing an elegant gown. I hadn’t expected an Animal-person to speak. A few-more Hominid words were spoken. This was a fucking-weird vacation. The meal-alone was one-hundred-dollars worth. I had never eaten a one-hundred-dollar meal before. Nor had I been in such a large dining hall. I had always thought that the Hominids lived in cities the same size as ours. And had as much money and technology as we did. But that they were nasty shits who didn’t let anyone play with their toys. I was completely out-of-it. Dazed. Someone gently touched my elbow. One of the sandy-haired men who had accosted me, prodded my elbow, to get me to stand up. I did so, and he lead me outside the dining-hall. Everyone was watching me, bare-breasted. Like a floozy. He walked me out of one of the doors. 868 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And then up one hallway. And then back. He was looking for something. Two more hallways, and he found what he was looking for. A deer dressed in an elegant gown was standing there, sentry. She saw me topless, glared at the man, and went wide-eye in insult. He approached her and spoke something in his language. I stood… Dazed. I wasn’t sleepy, but my mind barely moved. The woman spoke in my own language to me. “Did he do anything to you?” It took me a moment to respond. “Uh, no.” She didn’t believe me. Her Deer-eyes swiveled-over to inspect him. “Please hand me your pager.” I pulled it out of my pouch. I didn’t think to think why. The Deer-woman pressed a few buttons, and handed me a voucher. “You have the rest of the day off. We will talk to you later.” I didn’t even say thank you to her. 869 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t notice if the sandy-haired Hominid man still-stood around. My pager beeped once every two seconds, and pointed an arrow that I was to follow. I followed it through un-perceived corridors, past a few cliques of Hominid men. After I had gotten a few hundred meters away, I remembered by bikini-top. I put it on. As I did so, my pager got more-and-more angry at me. It calmed down once began moving. Half an hour later, I found myself in the mirrored arch-room, where I had begun my first day. I was going to walk through one of the doors when a Simian guard stopped me. He looked at my beeper, and then escorted me down the wide staircase. He very-nicely called me a golf-cart cab. I was given a free ride to the doors underneath our dorm. I had forgotten to say “Thank you,” to the Simian guard, but I thanked the driver. I climbed up the steps the Y-intersection, and the two-second beeping stopped. I looked. I now had fourteen hours before my next day of adventures… I was being Goatsarcastic by that point. My room wasn’t far away. Someone had stopped by to clean it.
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November 12, 2011 Not bad for being a slave… the room cleaning. The topless experience was disturbing… and distinctly weird. I put on my muslin top and skirt. I hated the bikini. Did I want to eat? What did I want to do? I took a walk to see what my dorm-building was like. I made it all of the way to the dorm’s lobby, where the Simian-woman had told me I had “F”-sized clothing. I glanced-around a bit. My mental-fog was lifting. The building wasn’t that large… relatively speaking. I found the hairdressers and walked by it. I found a weight room. I think I found the tailor’s, but the mini-shop was closed. There were more dorm rooms, most larger than mine. They were all closed, so I didn’t manage to see inside. Not many people wandered around the hallways. It was the middle of a shift. I passed by the restaurant I had eaten-at yesterday. It was closed. What a fucking-weird experience.
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November 12, 2011 Vacations were odd. You could be stressed-out completely, and then four days later have completely forgotten about your prior life. I wondered how my cat was doing. Would anyone notice if I were dead? That was an odd thought. My sister would… what would my sister do when I told her what had happened? She always knew what to do. She was a bit moralistic proper. Did I really walk topless into a very-expensive dining hall, in front of thousands of people? Did I want to remember that? What the fuck was I doing? What the fuck was I going to do? I entered the recreation hall. Some people were playing ping-pong, and a few geckos were glued to the racing video-games. I approached the fast-food counter. No-one else was there. On the cook’s “This meal is ready” counter, was a hamburger. A Chimpanzee-woman took my order. I pointed to the hamburger. “No. Not yours.” She spoke my language! “Thank you. I know. One just like that!” 872 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Okay. Certainly.” I automatically showed her my key. She looked at me funny, but wrote-down the order and passed it back to the cook. Ten minutes later, I had a hamburger and shitty-tasting water. The guard let me out the doors. I sat at the table, sharing it with a very-thin Springbok-woman. At least five Goanna-people were sun-baking naked on the grass. I ate in silence. So did the Springbok-woman. The hamburger wasn’t bad. The deep-fried sweet-potato chips were better. After I finished my food, I stood up, and lifted my tray to take it back inside. “[Informal] Goodbye,” I said to the Springbok woman, automatically. She looked at me weird. A Chimpanzee-evolved guard let me in. A naked Goanna followed… I could hardly complain about nudity at this point in time. I dropped of my tray, with a “Thank you.” I returned to my room. And fell asleep.
ABOUT THE OWNERS 873 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The mansion was owned by Aussies. They are an earlier-branch of Australopithecus. The mansion was a combination of residence, hideaway, and business. I will discuss the business later, so as not to ruin the story. The mansion was also a hideaway. One problem with the future, is that everyone can read your mind, if they have a bit of money. They can also befuddle you. I had never thought of this. There are different techniques for running-away the mind readers, just like moviestars have different techniques for not-being seen by curious-and-nosy fans. One approach is to have a lot of homes, and never stay at the same home for very long. Another is to live your life in a spaceplane, always moving. The more-technological the spaceplane, the fewer people that can listen to you. If you live in a one-million dollar spaceplane, all of the Hominid nosy-women in the world listen to you. At ten-million dollars, they suddenly think you’re important. And they purchase more-sophisticated mind-listening technology to get through your ten-million dollar spaceplane’s defenses. A fifty-million-dollar spaceplane can escape the mind-reading Tyrannosaurs. A one-hundred-million-dollar spaceplane-yacht goes far-and-fast enough that the nosy Hominid-women cannot keep up. The Goannas do though. But they aren’t as annoying. At two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollars, the Insects begin prying into your affairs. 874 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A cheaper way is to fly to a very-large city, and wander through a very-large and verystressed-out crowd. After an hour of walking, your thoughts clear, the nosy-women that telepathically trail behind you get left behind. Then you can think for about fifteen minutes. Mega-mansions are another approach. They are armored and protected from signal-snoopers and implant-bots. They are enormous. There are one-thousand staff and one-thousand slaves whose minds can be read. The slaves are always thinking seditious and traitorous thoughts, something that attracts the mind-reading nosy-women. Of course, the mind-reading nosy-women are provided gear and paid-for by someone with a lot of money. But you never know who they are. Add four thousand drunk soldiers, as well as their less-inebriated and schemingcommanders, and no-one bothers to read your mind. A few dozen very-wealthy Aussies can hide-out near the brothel-rooms, and make plans for the future.
PARTY NIGHT A different group of Hominids was in the next day. I awoke before my alarm went off. I dressed in my hot-pink bikini as soon as I awoke… so no-one would open my door while I was naked. 875 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I had approximate an hour… three-quarts of an Earth-Sol hour. What was I going to do today? I liked the first day the best. I hoped the Goanna-male would stop by and get me… irrational. The short-Elk woman had begun yesterday’s awful experience. I needed to get new clothes, ones that were distinctly unsexy and unrevealing. I had never thought that the Hominids would, at the same time, think of me as a walking animal, while simultaneously viewing me as a sex object. That didn’t make sense. I didn’t want to call my mother. I didn’t want to go back to that hallway. Ever. I didn’t want to eat lamb-shanks, ever again. I didn’t want to go to an expensive dining room, ever again. I didn’t want to see the Hominids either. Nor did I like the Deer-woman who spoke a few lines during the Hominid dinner. I didn’t know why. She seemed a traitor to me. Five minutes before my alarm would go off. I opened my door to see if anyone was going to pick me up. No-one. I closed my door. I had found a brush yesterday, and brushed-down my fur-hair. 876 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It felt good. I looked less-disheveled that way. It hadn’t occurred to me to take a shower yet. My beeper went off. Really? It already had the compass-pointer on it, leading me out of the room. No-one had come? I opened the door and looked-out, to see if anyone was going to pick me up. No-one was there. I crept out of my room, and closed-and-locked my door. No-one rounded the corner at the Y-intersection. I saw an Animal-person walk through the Y-intersection, but they didn’t head my way. Was I supposed to head in alone? If I wasn’t, I could blame my beeper. I slowly walked down the hallway, thinking that someone might catch-up and guide me Nope. At the Y-intersection, I followed the beeper’s compass down the right branch. And then through the glass door on the right. The door automatically unlocked for me. I descended the stairs.
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November 12, 2011 I was nervous. What if I wasn’t supposed to be here. At the bottom, I entered the bustle of the colored-light tunnel. Someone stepped off the speed-walkway to my left, walked the twenty meters between walkways, and hopped on the next walkway. A few golf-carts sped past, beeping. Was I supposed to be down here? My compass pointed right, and onto the speed-walkway. I was so mentally disheveled that if the compass pointed me onto the oncoming speed walkway, I would have taken it. Luckily, it had sub-meter accuracy, so I was directed onto the outgoing speed-walkway. I didn’t stand on the walkway. I walked the entire way. I took two walkways, and then got-off, one walkway before the grand staircase. My compass pointed left, across the golf-cart underground road. I had to wait for a four-legged horse to cross my path. He was outgoing. And then I had to dodge some golf-carts. The glass doors on the opposite site automatically unlocked for me. I went through, and then followed the center of three narrow hallways. I paid more attention to my compass than my location in reality. Hallways branched left and right, and the hallway I was in made a few turns. I reached the end of the narrow hallway, a single glass-door. It didn’t automatically-unlock until I grabbed the doorhandle. 878 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I walked through into the arcade. There was a sense of relief in my mind. The place was full of Hominid men. They ALL walked-around with six-hundred milliliter glass-beakers of narcotic bluedrink. Two days ago, they DIDN’T have blue-drink. My beeper led me to the elevator. Some men were waiting there. They didn’t realize that I had to be present for the elevator to land. As soon as I walked-up, the elevator screen opened. They all entered, about fifteen of them. The elevator was full. I thought about waiting for the elevator to take-off, and return empty. They patiently waited for the elevator to take-off. It wasn’t going anywhere without me. In fact, there were NO animal-people in the arcade. If I had been more perceptive, I would have realized that the enslaved Animal-people often ditched the Hominids they didn’t like in the arcade. I didn’t think that the elevator wouldn’t ascend without me. I decided to risk it. I squeezed into the elevator and turned around. The grey-glass appeared directly in front of me. I felt the static-electricity fields. 879 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was paranoid to have the men behind me. In the half-minute it took to rise, they didn’t do anything. I walked left. I had no-idea where my beeper was point me to. I got about thirty meters down the hallway, when some of the Hominid men caught up to me. One of them grabbed my arm. Walking half-a-step behind me, with a strong grip on my arm, he guided me into a room on the right. It was a large library, different than the one I was in yesterday. This one had no globe in the center, nor any simulated windows. All of its walls were covered with shelves and books. Once into the room, he halted me and grabbed onto-me tighter. He said something to two other Hominid officers, and pointed to the far-corner of the library. One man walked out the way we came. The other found a door at the far end, and waved us forward. I was led to the door. The man had an iron-grip on my right arm. He pushed me through the dark-stained wood-paneled door. We entered another hallway. His subordinate looked at a brochure map of the place. Meanwhile, the lead-officer kicked a book underneath the door to keep it open. The subordinate showed the map to the Hominid-man holding-onto me, and pointed to a room. 880 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They spoke to one another. I was swapped for the map. The subordinate held me by the back of my neck, and walked me right down the hallway. He stopped at one room, began to shove me in, and decided it wasn’t the correct one. Two doors later, he found what he was looking for. The room as a very-large very-ornate bedroom, with a very-large king-sized posterbed. Green-felt blankets and curtains. A desk was on the far end, near some faux-sunlight windows. The walls were ivory wood-paneling.
At this point, I have to repeat. This was a different group than the day before. I will explain why, at the end of the story.
18th century Edwardian (Bugbug – date) I was close to terrified. I would be sweating goat-smell soon. I suspected they were going to kill me. The man walked me a few paces into the room. And then we waited. He loosened his grip on the back of my neck, slightly. He had a gun holstered to his belt. 881 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One of the men showed up, said something, and gave a thumbs up. He had a smile on his face. The subordinate who had a grip on my neck walked me over to the bed. They sat me on the bed. He returned to the doorway. I wasn’t about to me. Another Hominid male-officer showed up. Two of them guarded the doorway. They both had guns. I calmed while I sat. It appeared that they were NOT going to shoot me. They were just playing a prank on someone. Ten minutes later, a male-deer was pushed through the doorway. His mouth had blood on it. That wasn’t good. Two men followed. He was physically directed by the men to stand in front of me. Meanwhile, I was physically directed to stand up. I did so. We faced one-another. Then two men that had positioned us, returned to guard the doors. A fifth man arrived. 882 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They closed the double doors. I could see the group just-off to my right. The Deer-male, more of an Deer-teenager, rotated his head slightly, but in Deerfashion, slid-his eyes far left. He looked VERY nervous “The men aren’t supposed to have guns,” telepathed the deer-male to me. One of them yelled something to the deer male. He spoke back to them in their language. A Hominid officer replied, and motioned with his gun. The Deer-boy began unbuttoning his vest, very slowly. Very slowly. Always looking back at the men wide-eyed. They motioned for him to continue And motioned for him to turn around and face me as he did so. He finished unbuttoning his vest, and turned-back for more instructions. The Hominid officers motioned for him to pull-off his vest, when he next turned around to get visual instruction from them “They will kill us,” telepathed the Deer-man, with another emergency-telepath. He removed his vest, and then turned around. They next motioned for him to take-off his shorts, while looking at me He did so. 883 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He had no underwear. He was erect, I noticed. He was VERY worried. So was I. “I don’t want to do this,” he emergency-telepathed to me. “Someone will be by shortly.” He turned around for more instruction. They motioned for him to take off my top. I thought about resisting, but didn’t want to get shot He reached towards my breasts. I began to turn around so he could unclasp my bikini-top from the back. “No,” yelled a Hominid officer. I stopped. The Hominid spun his finger, motioning for me to return to facing the Deer-boy. The Deer-boy looked back for instructions, and had an instruction yelled to him. The Deer looked at me very worried. His hands reached for my breasts. They slowly and gently moved to the clasp between my breasts. He tried to undo the clasp. His hoof-hands weren’t dexterous enough I raised my hands to help. I understood the game. 884 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One of the officers motioned that I was to do nothing. I lowered my arms. Unable to undo the clasp with his hoof-hands, the deer-male quietly pull-down my top, and expose my breasts. He turned around. He was motioned to pull-down my bikin-bottom. He did so. He was working it down to the ground so I could step out of it. “Nein,” commanded an officer. This must have meant stop. The TERRIFIED deer-male looked back at them for more visual instructions The officer made a motion with his hands for us to close-in. The deer-male turned around. Another emergency telepath, “I will try to fake it.” We closed, and touched. The deer-gentleman turned around, awaiting further instruction. The Hominid officer signaled. The deer-gentleman reluctantly, moved up-and-down, touching, but not inserting. “Hrumph,” or something like that came from the Hominid officer. He motioned for the deer-male to back me up to the bed and lay on top of me The gentleman-deer was furious “They will come soon. I hope,” he telepathed. 885 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was backed up very slowly. I had to sit down, and then lie down. My legs bent off the side of the bed. The gentleman deer looked back at the Hominid officer-crap for further instructions “Crup,” I heard. I didn’t see the officer’s emotions. The deer-male obeyed. I will hate the Hominids forever. While I was being raped… and I wasn’t really being raped by the Deer-gentlemen, the Hominid men walked-out They closed the door behind them. I thought I heard the doors lock. We both withdrew from sex. We were in the room alone. We waited to see what the Hominid officers would do. “I am sorry,” the gentleman-Deer said. He put his hand on my hand in comfort. We waited to see if the Hominid men would return. After half an hour, the deer-man timidly stood-up off-of bed, put-in his pants, and crept to the door. Meanwhile, I put my “F”-sized clothes on. He couldn’t open the door. It was locked from the outside. We were locked in here until someone came and opened the door. My beeper went off. 886 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I pulled it out and looked it.
ALERT!
That’s all it said. It beeped a few times. We waited. No-one came. The Deer-gentleman sat by the door, knees bent, head bent-down in sorrow. I didn’t want to fall-asleep on the bed. I crept to the far side of the room. I noticed a door. It was locked. I didn’t want to sit near the door, in case the Hominids came through. I say by the table, knees up, looking at the Deer-man.
I fell-asleep.
I awoke, in a fetal position, my arms clamped around my knees. 887 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A Rabbit-evolved woman was talking to the Elk-man. He left the room. She came-over, and coaxed me up. “Come on. We’ve got to get you out of here. There has been murder.” She walked me out of the room. My mind was near-comatose. The Rabbit-woman had a gun. She walked me to the elevator in the atrium. “You can find your way out from here. I have to look for more people.” I didn’t think to thank her. The elevator took me downstairs, where I was met by two Gorilla-evolved guards. The led me through the mirrored archway, and pointed me to a golf-card waiting below. The mirrored-archway great-room had quite a few armed Simians, Gorilla-evolved guards, some Zebra, and some Aussies. I hadn’t seen the Aussies before then. At the bottom of the steps, I was escorted to a golf-cart and driven back to the dorm rooms. They actually drove outside, and up to the main lobby. Armed Simians were there also. I was let in, but kept in the main lobby for an hour. I didn’t speak to anyone.
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November 12, 2011 I sat, knees up, against a wall. Comatose. A Simian-person bent down and handed me a plasti-paper cub of soft-drink I sipped that. Fifteen minutes later, I was just thinking about getting up and stretching my legs when a pair of armed Simians each-grabbed my upper-arms. They nearly-lifted me to my feet. And the three of us ran outside. They placed me and other Animal-people onto a golf-cart. We were sped up the road, in the pouring rain. Once we came out of the chasm, we stopped. A shuttle was parked immediately next to the road. We were rushed into the shuttle, ushered in by a soaking-wet Aussie. The shuttle was over-loaded with Animal-people, as well as some Gorilla-evolved people. The backdoors closed, and we took-off before I knew it. Two minutes later, the same Hominid battalion that raped me, blew up the shuttle that I was on.
WHAT HAPPENED ELSEWHERE ON PARTY NIGHT The Hominid group that raped me was a different Hominid group than had debased me at the dinner. 889 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The story about the story gets very weird…
The Aussies have telepathically chimed in… The Hominid General and his men began arriving soon-after the dinner finished. The dinner was a thank-you and farewell dinner for the previous contingent. The General got nastier and nastier throughout the day. The Aussies used the mega-mansion as a giant psychology test for Hominid military contingents. Those contingents that behaved themselves and who were less-racist, were given the clear to enter Simian space. People want to enter Simian space because it is not at war with the Animal-people, Lemurs, Saurians, Goannas, Geckos, Crocodile-evolved people, Skink-evolved people, and various “Reptiloids”. Continents that were bastards were sent to “The Death Zone”… THIS Taurosphere. The General knew that his contingent was not selected for the Simian-nations. He knew that his men would most-likely die in combat. Very high-tech enemies lurk in “The Death Zone”. Consequently, he took revenge on the Aussies who owned the mega-mansion. His men tried to burn the place down. That didn’t work. It had been tried many times before. His men were ordered to do as much damage as possible to the Aussies, their staff, and the slaves.
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November 12, 2011 Consequently fifty to one-hundred-and-fifty Animal people were raped that night. Fifty Animal-people died in the mansion. Twenty Simians, Chimpanzee-evolved, and Gorilla-evolved people also died. Forty Aussies died. Twelve VCH’s died. That was INSIDE the mega-mansion. Fourteen emergency-evacuation shuttles were blown-up by the Hominid contingent, overfilled with passengers. Each would have twenty-five passengers.
News from the enslaved Animal-people: The gaming-room has been intentionally locked, by preventing the Hominid officers from using the elevator. An Animal-person woman was “standing guard” in front of the elevator I exited from. I didn’t notice her… because she bolted around the corner when elevator came-up. Basically, the elevator wouldn’t move without an Animal-person being in it. She stood by, to ward-off any Animal-people. Throughout the night, the Animal-people had led groups of Hominid officers down to the arcade, and then snuck-out through the door I had entered. I was unknowingly sent through the arcade, by an automatic system. Regrettably, I let some Hominid officers escape. She fought them rather than being raped. They ended-up shooting the woman “guarding” the elevator. She died fifteen-meters down the other hallway. Her dead-and-dying body was used as a “key” to allow the other Hominid officers to escape the arcade.
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November 12, 2011 From Animal-people in “The Furrow”, a sister organization to the slave-rescue organization, the “Al Ari”, “Al Ara” or “Awr Awroo” – meaning “The path”: The reason why I was purchased for the mega-mansion was that many Animalpeople had been killed a month before, when a different Hominid military-contingent did the same thing. Dead employees had to be replaced. I was particularly interesting to the Aussies because I was an endangered species. It made for good advertising. And there were/are war-incentives for “rescuing” endangered species. Endangered species don’t have children… unless there’s a version of the endangered species with the opposite gender… which can be controlled.
From a later occupant of the Aussie space hotel-room that I stayed in: The Aussie space-hotel that stayed in was for test purposes. We were all monitored to test our reactions A month after my visit, a Four-legged Horse, Hoyhnhnmm (BUGBUG – sp) stayed in there. She kicked the shit out of the place. She verified that the clavier had no actual wires. It was just very-thin veneer. The snooker table was more difficult to destroy. The side-table was quite real. The bathtub was a rubber-plastic that was permanently dented by her hooves. The toilet smashed-to-bits though, which was quite satisfying. The bedroom was mostly indestructible. She never got to the auto-vacuum part of the test; the device will never be able to leave its cave again though, since that door was sealed by hoof-dents. (BUGBUG – hoyuhnhnmn link)
GOING FORWARDS
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November 12, 2011 There are approximately ten-thousand such mega-mansions in the Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk) galaxy.
From the Simians: Nearly one-hundred books have already been written about Flavorhaven, where I was. Several have already been published/distributed. Others are in the process of being published. Other Simians (and Chimpanzee-evolved and Ape-evolved) people have written-andpublished books about Flavorhaven and the other mega-mansions. The Hominid General, and others, may have read these books and decided to take revenge on the Aussie industry. Forty such attacks have occurred in the last two years.
For people in within five-thousand galaxies of this Taurosphere: The Aussies have been recruiting “nice” Hominids for nearly one-hundred years. At first, they migrated the nice-Hominids into the Alotians, and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk). In the last fifteen years, they have migrated them into the Simians, so they wouldn’t take-part in the expected bloodbath of this war. And because many Aussies are military leaders, and seek-out the best Hominids, for a potential war originating from the Simian nations. Furthermore, Hominid leadership doesn’t like this region of the Hominid Empire because it is a major crime capital.
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November 12, 2011 They migrated war-bred to this region, partly to take revenge on the crime-bosses, and partly because they expect a war here anyway. War-bred are people who tend to be sociopathic, follow orders, and are racist. They are excellent soldiers in war, but they destabilize an at-peace society. Their population-numbers are doubled or quadrupled in the fifty-years before a war begins. Which is one of the reasons why the Aussies migrated the nice-Hominids out. They recognized the war-bred arriving. The war began three years ago. In the last three years, the Hominid militaries in the area have behaved particularly egregiously. And they have been using very high-tech weapons. Which is why non-Hominids have taken-up positions in the region… which is why the Hominids have termed the region, “The Death Zone”. Meanwhile, all of the wealthy Hominid-civilians in the region have realized that many old-friends and neighbors have taken jobs elsewhere. Their new neighbors aren’t as pleasant. Many wealthy Hominid-civilians with spaceplane access have fled to the Alotians, and/or the Simians, and/or further away. (A large-chunk of the Hominid population has been recruited into the militaries.) Meanwhile, the wealthy Hominid civilians like household slaves. They also see them as a financial investment. Slaves are illegal in the Alotian Nations… but they are unfortunately tolerated at the moment. Simian slaves are illegal in the Simians, but one-or-two Animal-people slaves are allowed per Hominid household. So, less-wealthy Hominids who have no need for a slave, have purchase one as a financial investment. They can take one slave across the border into the Simians, and then rent them out to wealthy Hominids. 894 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Meanwhile, local laws dictated by Hominid leaders, require many less-wealthy nonmigrating Hominids to have a slave… ESPECIALLY if they are anti-slavery. Which creates a market for enslaved Animal-people. Which attracts bastard slavers to this region. Which makes things even worse.
PS – Many of the nicer space-faring Hominids have hidden-away on “low-tech” nondisclosed Hominid planets, like Earth-Sol. Some Alotians are also doing the same. (Alotians look like round-faced Hominids, but without hair. Their ancestors are NOT Australopithecus, branching-off before Chimpanzees.) (BUGBUG – Australopithecus, Chimpanzee)
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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November 12, 2011
TYRANNOSAURS ARE PEEPINGTOMS... AND PRANKSTERS TOO by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
Tyrannosaur-evolved (Saurian) “They’re monsters when they’re little [children].”
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November 12, 2011
MY HOUSE, AND MY COUSIN-SISTER-FRIEND I am the equivalent of six-years old, but I am really ten Earth-Sol years old. I stand 1.5 metres tall. I live in a one-story house that my Mother had a home-builder build for her and her sister. It sits on a rural five-hectare lot.
The house has white-tile floors, whiter concrete-like walls, and a white ceiling. It is divided into a kitchen, living-room, a toilet-room, and a halfway-upstairs room for my Mother. It also has a few-other rooms that I’m not supposed to enter; their doors are locked. The staircase to my Mother’s bedroom is always locked. I was scolded when I got-in there once. My best-friend Sandy lives in the left side of the same house. She is also my cousin, and my sister. To get to her side, I open-up a large doorway off my living room.
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November 12, 2011 Her side is smaller, but practically the same. She has a kitchen, living-room, toiletroom, and several rooms she’s not allowed to ever enter. Sandy also had her own bedroom; I sleep on some cushions laid-out on my livingroom floor. Sandy’s house is more-ornate. The rooms are painted colours other than white, and populated with more-ornate furniture. Everything on my side of the house is designed to be indestructible. It has to be, I am told, because I am a whirling miniscule agent of destruction. The kitchen is 100% child-safe. There are no lower-kitchen cupboards for me to get into, just a slippery-white wall up to the countertop. I tried to climb onto the countertop but couldn’t. Tyrannosaurs are very-poor climbers. My foot-claws left large noticeable scratches in the slippery-white surface underneath the countertop I was trying to climb onto. My cousin and I tried to build a furniture ladder up to the countertop. We lookedaround the kitchen for chairs to move against the countertop, but we couldn’t find any. There are no mobile chairs in the house. We tried to move the living-room armchair into the kitchen... It’s mobile enough with two of us pushing. It wouldn’t fit through the narrow kitchen doorway though. Nor would the table in Sandy’s house fit through the large doorway dividing our two houses. We couldn’t use that as a furniture ladder either. Sandy didn’t have any mobile chairs in her house either. We don’t sit on chairs to eat meals. We either stand at Sandy’s table – my mother doesn’t have a table – or sit on the ground.
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Prank Sandy once removed all of the doorhandles in her side of the house with a Lshaped hex-screwdriver (Alan wrench). My Aunt couldn’t open any of her doors, nor could my Mother. Then Sandy stuck the Alan-wrench up my nose, and I couldn’t get it out. My Aunt got a special door-opening tool from the door repairman just incase Sandy did this again. My Aunt hid the special-tool in a place where Sandy would never-ever find it.
MY LITTLE BROTHER I share the right side of my house with my little brother. He might be a little sister, but at his age, we can’t tell. I was NOT introduced to my little brother until he was large-enough that he could run-away from me... and Sandy... and both of us together. Before that, he was protected in my Mother’s bedroom, which is ALWAYS kept locked. I have never spent any time with any other children besides Sandy and my little brother. I won’t be introduced to them, until I am large enough that I can run away from them, and their friends. Sandy had no little brother, so she is allowed to abuse mine.
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November 12, 2011
Prank When we go grocery-shopping with my Aunt, Sandy and I rearrange cans of food on the store shelves into checkerboard patterns, and smiley-faces.
PRANK: MOUSTACHE My Mother’s fur-feathers are pink-purple. My Aunt’s fur-feathers are lavender-blue. They once both shaved their feathers-off at the same time. Neither Sandy nor I could tell them apart. My Mother’s skin, without her feathers, is a dark charcoal-grey. My Aunt’s skin is more of a dark forest-green. Sometime about then, Sandy and I decided to paint a moustache on my Aunt. Tyrannosaurs don’t have moustaches, but Hominid-men do. Sandy and I watched a black-and-white Hominid movie on my Mother’s television. We liked the moustache idea as a way to tell my Mother and my Aunt apart. Sandy can get into my locked Aunt’s bedroom, if she really-really wants to. I don’t know how she does it. Both of us approached my sleeping Aunt. Each of us had a small nail-polish brush. Sandy’s was loaded with cream-colour, mine with glittering-white. We approached from opposite sides of Sandy’s back-less couch. 900 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Two seconds later, my Aunt had a nail-polish “pencil” moustache underneath her nostrils. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pencil_moustache) If my Aunt had slept for fifteen seconds more... unfortunately were giggling too much... she would have had eyebrows. Another thirty seconds, and she would have had two nail-polish brushes up her nose. As a counter-prank to our prank, my Aunt and Sandy caught me, and painted my toenails out-of-order ugly-rainbow colours. They threatened to let my little brother have a go with the nail-polish also.
Prank Sandy and I moved all of my Mother’s living-room furniture into one corner of the living-room, so she couldn’t sit on it.
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PRANK: SHOPPING AT THE MALL My Aunt took Sandy and me to the shopping-mall. A bus picked us up in front of our house. Sandy and I sat-together in a bench seat, most of the way to the back. We specifically selected the seat so that my Aunt couldn’t sit on a nearby bench opposite us. Some other people were already sitting there. When we were in a clothes-store, Sandy and I wandered-away from our Aunt, as was typical. We tried playing hide-and-seek from my Aunt in the store, but she was toointerested in clothes. So we played hide-and-seek from my Aunt outside of the clothes store. We watched her leave the store with a worried-walk. We hid behind a granite whale-statue so she wouldn’t see us. She walked to the right, heading towards the food court, where she thought we had gone. The two of us followed behind my Aunt, approximately one-hundred meters back. When she would turn-around to look behind her, we would duck behind a display clothes-rack, or a crowd of people, just so she wouldn’t see us. The food court was at the end of the shopping-mall corridor. My Aunt spent ten minutes looking for us at all of the fast-food counters. Then she visually scanned-over the food-court seating. She was about to call mall security, but we didn’t know that. When we decided that our Aunt would never find us in a million years, we snuck-up behind her, next to the hot-dog place, and waited for her to turn around. 902 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We had to do this twice, because the first time, she didn’t turn around, and just walked forward to another vantage-point. My Aunt, Sandy, and I celebrated with my favourite food, deep-fried crumbed lamb/dog slices, and a milkshake. My Aunt didn’t really celebrate. She had been stressing-out, and was incredibly relieved that she had found us.
Prank Sandy once stuck a Rhinoceros beetle in her Mother’s ear. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhinoceros_beetle)
PRANK: BROTHER Sandy and I once dressed-up my little brother in my Mother’s clothes, which my Mother had left lying around. He didn’t mind, so we didn’t bother dressing him up again. He did mind when we locked him in Sandy’s bedroom-closet for half a day.
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November 12, 2011 Sandy had a large cotton-stuffed fake-fur lion that she carried around when she was young. When she got older, she left it on her bed. I have a thick-and-wiggly-and-long fake-fur anaconda that I carried around, but I now leave it in the living-room. My brother counter-pranked Sandy by tearing-apart her favourite stuffed-lion. No-one saw him do it, so I was secretly blamed. No-one told me I was blamed, or seemed to treat me any differently though.
Prank Sandy and I tried to turn my Aunt’s flat-screen television upside-down, but it was too heavy for us. It dropped onto the floor, but we put it back without anyone noticing.
HOME-SCHOOLING I don’t go to school. I do all of my schoolwork at home, in front of a flat-panel computer-terminal. 904 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My cousin-sister-friend, Sandy, has a slightly-larger one, right next to mine. She does her schoolwork there. My Aunt, who stays home during the day, helps both of us learn from out computer-terminals. She also helps us build school-projects, and then photographs them so we can E-mail the photographs to our art teacher. My Aunt helps us build models out of construction-paper, foam, and pipe-cleaners. Learning from my computer-terminal doesn’t feel like learning, nor does the homework feel like homework, nor do the tests feel like tests. The computer-screen doesn’t display much text, and if it does display text, the text is usually only numbers. A talking-head woman on the lower-right side of the screen speaks everything, so I don’t have to read instructions. The computer skips-around between different subjects, never spending more than ten minutes on a subject at a time, otherwise I get bored. If I get stuck on a math problem, the computer switches to another class, and bothers me about the math problem later. The computer teaches me geography and history. I know all of the continents on my planet. I am lousy at math. I am only up to addition and multiplication. Sandy, who is threeyears older, can do algebra. I am very-good at drawing though, using an attached drawing tablet. My pictures are E-mailed to my art teacher, and my Mother. 905 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We don’t listen to music, so there isn’t a music class. I really enjoy the storytelling class. The teaching-game begins with a blank page, and helps me invent my own story. I can speak a first-sentence into the story, like “Sandy is a jerk [today].” The computer-woman asks me some questions about Sandy, why she is a jerk, and lots of other stuff. She tells me about the five parts of a story, and then makes sure my story has all five parts: Character introduction, problem, first failed attempt at solving the problem, second successful attempt at the problem, and conclusion. Creating a story on the computer is like having a conversation with another person, except that the story-game automatically types up the story, adds pictures, and prints it out. We don’t have spelling lessons. That’s what computers are for. The telepathy games are lots of fun. They’re like Earth-Sol’s avant-garde computer games that use galvanic skin-response sensors and mind-reading headsets. The goal of the game is to move a character around the screen using only your mind. Meanwhile, the game distracts you by playing loud-and-sudden sounds, or by inviting Sandy and my Aunt to scream into my ear, pull at my feathers, and poke me. The second is more fun. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skin_conductance, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electroencephalography) Science class lets me stick molecules together by touching them on the computerscreen, and dragging them near one-another. If I make a mistake, my new molecule blows up. I really-really like the “animal” class, where I learn all-about all sorts of animals. Tyrannosaurs find mammals to be very cute. I like anacondas.
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November 12, 2011
Prank Feather twister – Where you older sister grabs a handful of your back-neck feathers, and twists them as hard as she can. I tried doing this to her, but my grip isn’t strong-enough for her to squeal in pain. (Actually, she pretends not to feel it.) My little brother doesn’t have any feathers yet, so I can’t do this to him. My Mother picks me up by my feet, turns me upside-down, and makes me giggle when I feather-twist her.
TELEVISION I watch a lot of children’s-television shows. A lot of the shows are “animal” shows, where people show-off different animals and talk about them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bindi_the_Jungle_Girl, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kratts'_Creatures) Many television-shows are “adventure” shows, like “Fraggle Rock”, where Muppet characters wander around a weird world and get into trouble. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Muppets, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fraggle_Rock) Sandy and I also like the “action” shows. The television-characters play through the story, and then we get to shoot enemies on the television with fake guns. The story doesn’t resume until both Sandy and I have each killed three. More boring-story is shown. All of the episodes end with a major shootout against more enemies, which ends-up with Sandy and I running around the house play-shooting one-another for half an hour.
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November 12, 2011 We also play video-games built into the television, mostly jet-fighter flightsimulators, racing video-games, and first-person shooters. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Combat_flight_simulator, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Racing_video_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firstperson_shooter)
Mayhem Armchairs pushed across smooth white-tile floors don’t make for veryexciting car-races, unless they hit the television, and the television fallsdown on you.
PRANK: PEEPING-TOM I never knew that my mother had a virtual-reality room. Sandy discovered the room when its door was left unlocked. Her mother DOESN’T have a virtual-reality room. My mother doesn’t have a virtual-reality room either, anymore. When Sandy first found the virtual-reality room, we figured-out how to use it. 908 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When you close the door, the door and all of the walls, and the floor, turn into 3Dtelevisions. In the centre of the room is an exoskeleton. Half of the exoskeleton is like a stairclimbing exercise-machine with leg braces. Sandy stepped onto the foot pedals, and strapped-on the braces. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exercise_machine#Climbing_machines) The top-half of the exoskeleton has arm-braces that you strap-on, and well as metal hand-controls with individual glide-motors/sensors for every finger. Sandy put the arm braces on next, as well as the audio and telepathy headset. A computer information-window appeared on the wall, with all sorts of choices. Because the 3D-video was messed-up by having two of us in the room, Sandy kicked me out of the virtual-reality room while she played. When she was finished, she invited me in, and hooked me up. Over the next few months, I learned how to use the virtual-reality room by myself. My mother only left it unlocked twice, but Sandy was able to unlock the door by herself. She used the same trick to open the virtual-reality-room door as she did to enter her Mother’s room. Sandy isn’t willing to teach me the trick, though. When it was my turn to play in the virtual-reality room, I first selected to play a Rabbit-evolved woman. She was walking down a crowded street. It was really cool. My legs and arms would move as her legs and arms would move. My head would turn as her head turned. Even my eyeballs moved automatically.
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November 12, 2011 The 3D-televisions that entirely-covered the walls, ceiling, and floor showed me what the Rabbit-evolved woman saw. I could hear what she heard. And even read her mind. Which was fun. But then I got bored. So tried walking her. That almost worked. The force-feedback motors in the stair-climber resisted, so I knew she wasn’t following my walk. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haptic_technology) The game then became one to see if I could get her to trip. I did! Game-play wasn’t limited to a Rabbit-evolved woman though. I could select different characters from the information display-window in front of me. Remember the black-and-white Hominid television show Sandy and I watched? One of the characters in the virtual-reality room was a Hominid Lieutenant. From the game-play information displayed, it appeared that he was quite popular to play. I didn’t understand most of what he was doing. He was a boring character; he would just sit in his office and talk to people on the phone, or talk to his woman-secretary. I did manage to take control of his hands though, and push all of his papers off his desk. 910 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And I even made him speak swear-words to his woman-secretary. Apparently, Sandy did worse to him.
Prank Sandy stuck a second Rhinoceros beetle in her Mother’s ear.
PRANK: TYRANNOSAURUS REX We think that palaeontologists on Earth-Sol have played a prank on you. Only on Earth-Sol (and other non-disclosed Hominid planets) do Tyrannosaurs have short stumpy arms that are completely useless, and only on Earth-Sol are they obese. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus)
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November 12, 2011 On all non-Hominid planets, wild-Tyrannosaurs look more-like four-legged Postosuchuses, but without a very-long tail. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Postosuchus)
From http://rainbow.ldeo.columbia.edu/courses/v1001/postosuchus.gif The tail should be wider, and half the length.
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November 12, 2011
From http://www.texas-geology.com/Postosuchus%20skeleton.jpg
Small Tyrannosaur “dog”
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November 12, 2011
Prank Four-legged Tyrannosaurs come in dog sizes. They have the same intelligence-level as Earth-Sol dogs. They are quite friendly. And they are pranksters too. When picnicking with their Tyrannosaur-person extended-family, Tyrannosaur-dogs enjoy stealing a long link-of-sausages. They drag the link around, and run-about with it, attracting the attention of all the other Tyrannosaur-dogs. All of the Tyrannosaur-dogs give chase. They all have a fun time, especially the instigator Tyrannosaur-dog, who often ends-up with no sausage whatsoever. Tyrannosaur-people also enjoy metaphorically “Running with the sausages.”
PRANK: THE HOMINID MILITARY BLEW UP MY H OUSE Apparently, what Sandy and I did to the Hominid Lieutenant wasn’t appreciated by him. The Hominid military traced our mind-and-body-control signal back to my Mother’s virtual-reality room.
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November 12, 2011 They launched a helicopter from a spaceplane, and had it blow-up my mother’s house. At first, I was blamed. But Sandy did much-worse to the Lieutenant than I did.
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November 12, 2011
Epilogue I wrote above, “Sandy discovered the [virtual-reality] room when its door was left unlocked.” – Sandy has threatened to beat me up unless I tell the truth. Sandy did NOT discover my Mother’s virtual-reality room. My Aunt is the one that showed Sandy how to use my Mother’s virtual-reality room.
Epilogue 2 I wrote above, “My Aunt is the one that showed Sandy how to use my Mother’s virtual-reality room.” – My Mother has threatened to turn-me upside-down and tickle-me unless I tell the truth. My Aunt was using my Mother’s virtual-reality room to pick-up Tyrannosaur boyfriends.
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November 12, 2011
Epilogue 3 I wrote above, “My Aunt was using my Mother’s virtual-reality room to pickup Tyrannosaur boyfriends.” – My Aunt has promised to do worse than tickling-me because I have revealed this.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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November 12, 2011
THE WHITE WOLF – A ROMANCE by Mike Rozak Copyleft 2011
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November 12, 2011
A QUIET LIFE After my fighter-spaceplane was shot down, and I was injured, I temporarily “retired” from the air-force to a small, wintry planet. Even though my “take a few years break” cabin was near-enough sea-level, and not all that far from the equator, the scenery was distinctly alpine. The trees were slow-growing pine-trees that normally grow right-below the timbre-line of tall mountains. The top-soil was typically mush, but permafrost wasn’t far below. It had recently been exceptionally cold. We had unusual amounts of snow, perhaps a few centimeters a night. Without a melt, the snow accumulated to twentycentimeters covering the ground. My “it’s dirt-cheap and maintenance-free” house was a wood-cabin, four-by-four meters. The exterior wood was unpainted, and had colored to a dark brown-grey, either due to aging or stain-paint. Inside was honey-colored. I had a small kitchen-counter with a faucet. Underneath the counter were a few drawers with plates and cutlery, as well as a refrigerator-drawer. On the countertop was a small microwave-convection oven (technically, an extradimensional cooker), and a can-opener. The only food I prepared were tins of processed meat, and occasional frozen freshmeat, purchased from a local store. The small convection-oven, bore-pump, aquifer-melter, and minimal-heating were all run off solar-power. I hadn’t noticed the solar-panels, which must have been on the roof. When my convection-oven failed to run once-or-twice, I put that down to it being an old unit. But it could have been due to a few weeks of overcast skies, and low power in the batteries. 919 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Opposite the kitchen-counter was a built-in single-person bed with cabinets below. A heating-pad was built into the bed cabinets. Beyond the foot of my bed, directly opposite the kitchen-counter, was my frontdoor, and snow-boot drying matt. On the corner opposite my bed was a short dresser, where I kept my old fighterspaceplane uniforms and combat-medals. I also had a few changes of clothes in there. I barely remembered my time in the military. Due to my injuries, my recollection was foggy, as was expected. My low-stress “job” on this planet was that of a wilderness-park keeper. I would monitor the trees’ health, and clear the pathways of debris. That was it. I had fought in the war long-enough that I was allowed a recuperation break. Other cabins were also in the area, perhaps occupied by ex-military like me. I didn’t know. The closest one was five kilometers away, I think. But they were Wolfen, and I was Wolfen. Wolfen males are quiet, and Wolfen males are loners. We don’t cross into oneanother’s territories. I didn’t even consider the thought of interfering in their lives by stopping by for a chat. If I had considered such a thing, I would still have decided to not-bother my neighbors, and given them their distance. I may once have seen a Wolfen in the distance, half-a-kilometers away. He may have seen me. We both disappeared from one-another’s view. Besides forestry monitoring and maintenance, all I would do is walk into “town” (a single shop) once a week for food. The walk took about one-third of a day to get there, and one-third to get back. Days on the planet were sixteen Earth-hours long, with eight hours for both daylight and nighttime. I needed the quiet. I needed time to think. 920 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I needed time for my mind to heal.
LIFE AS A FIGHTER-PILOT I had been a fighter-pilot in my previous life. I flew one of our normal-matter fighterspaceplanes. Imagine a pyramid, stretched tall, with the top-point flying forward, and slicing edges on the top-and-bottom, and wing-like ones on the left-and-right. Add lots of bumps and wedges to make the fighter-spaceplane look cool. I was sent on patrols looking for Hominid spaceplanes and cargo-vessels, up to ten stars distant. The Hominid spaceplanes were continually landing colonists on our planets, and then flying monthly food-and-supply shipments to the Hominid colonists. The colonists took-over our land, and enslaved our people. They continually tried to breed-rape us into compliant-and-pretty Wolfen that they could sell abroad.
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November 12, 2011
DAY TWO – FOLLOWED I stepped onto a staircase landing outside my cabin’s front-door, two steps above the ground. I wore boots (the ground and snow were cold), thermal pants, a shirt, and a jacket. And I wore a hat to keep my ears warm. Cold-fog flowed from my mouth as I exhaled. I locked the door, and descended two steps down, onto the snow-crunching pathways. Oddly, the snow melted-off the pathways much-sooner than it left the mulch-like ground. Today’s task was the same as yesterday’s. I was going-to meander about my territory, which was roughly what I defined it to be. And what my distant (fivekilometers away) neighbors defined their forestry-territory to be. The air was chilly, though not as brisk as the previous two days. I headed towards a section of the forest that I hadn’t visited for a few weeks. The crunching of the snow-ice beneath my feet became hypnotic. Whenever I would find fallen branches on the pathway, my job was to chuck them off. All I had to do today was keep the pathway clean. And tomorrow. And the next day. The day after-that, I might check the trees for infestation. Nice and simple. Nice and relaxing. I wouldn’t see much wildlife, except for the chipmunk tracks scurrying across the snow.
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November 12, 2011 Thirty minutes into my pathway-cleaning walk, I came across a decayed tree that had fallen across the path. It was more of a log, with a central trunk, and the stubbyremnants of branches. A saw might be handy. But then, maybe not. Most of the trees were frozen-solid most of the time. It would be like sawing through granite. I hadn’t brought my arc-saw, so brute-force would be required. Figuring-out how to move the tree off the path was as-stressful a problem as I wished to deal with… at least for a few years. Perhaps the tree would just push away. I tried pushing the tree-log. Nope. So I looked to see why it wouldn’t budge; some roots still held it in place. I tried lifting-up the fallen tree. It was twenty-centimeters thick, and far-too heavy. Brute-force had failed. I decided to take my time; I didn’t have anything else to do today. On second thought, I did have something to do. I was out of food. Oh well, the tree first. I began rocking the fallen tree-log back and forth to loosen-up the roots, or perhaps snap them. With enough rocking, I would eventually be able to swing the tree-log off the pathway. With my back tiring from bending-over to rock the fallen tree-log, I stood-erect from my crouch. I noticed a wolf one-hundred meters away. Despite being white, she didn’t blend-in with the snow and trees that well. The wolf watched me.
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November 12, 2011 I didn’t know that wolves were on this planet. I hadn’t seen them here before, but then again, I had only been on the planet half a year. Why couldn’t there be wolves? They might be able to catch the rabbit-sized chipmunks. I could tell from her face, that the white-wolf was a she. Why was she interested in me? I didn’t have a clue. A thought crept into my mind… Perhaps she hadn’t caught much food lately, with all of the snow. She might be hungry. Back to work. I rocked the fallen tree-log back-and-forth again. With a fair amount of back-strain, I managed to swing it one-third off the path. It was once-again time to rest. I looked up. The white-wolf was closer, approaching me. Perhaps she was stalking me. That didn’t phase me. I knew enough about wild wolves to know that she wouldn’t hunt-attack me. She was just playing. When the white-wolf saw that I was looking at her, she redirected her head to the left, in a nervous motion. Crap, I had frightened her. I didn’t want to do that. I returned my gaze downward to the log, and went back to rocking-it loose. 924 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I eventually rocked and pushed the log two-thirds off the path. Huff. I was out of breath. That was as much as I could accomplish today. Tomorrow, I would need to cut the stubborn roots with my arc-saw. They held the fallen tree in place. I now needed to visit the shop for food. I walked back to my cabin, and picked up my sash-bag. I needed it to carry my groceries back. Beginning my walk to the store, I realized that I hadn’t seen the wolf after giving-up on my tree-log. I must have frightened her off by noticing her. Or perhaps she had gotten bored. Maybe I’d see her again. I liked wildlife.
DAY TWO – A TRIP TO THE STORE I headed west to the store, my sash-bag across my shoulder. It was just large enough to hold a week’s worth of food, and some odds-and-ends. The walk took about two hours. Now warmed by the sun, the pathway’s snow-ice nolonger crunched with every step. On the way, I picked-up and threw-off a few fallen branches that I found on the path. 925 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The store was the same simple wood construction-style as used for my cabin, except that the store was sixteen-by-sixteen meters. It was built next to a slush-covered road. A “spaceport” (eh-hem… a natural-clearing in the trees next to the road) was a twohour drive away. I had only been there once, when I landed on the planet. I hadn’t been off the planet, or even in a vehicle, since I arrived. My sister visited me once, four months ago. She had passed through the “spaceport” also. Unlike my cabin, the inside of the store was heated to warmth, perhaps by a nuclear generator. In one corner were jackets, thermal pants, boots, hats, shirts, and socks. Toothpaste, toothbrushes, and medications were near the center of the store. Tins of meats and vegetables, as well as crackers and bags of pork-rinds, were at the far-end of the building, to the right. Of course, there was a cashier counter, where the store-woman worked. I didn’t know her name. She may have told me once, but unfortunately, I had forgotten. My memory didn’t work well after my injury. It would heal in time. And my ability to think-and-react was even worse. Those abilities would also recover. As I opened the store’s glass swing-door, the Wolfen-woman greeted me with a “Hi.” “How are you doing?” I asked politely. “A bit chilly.” That was about as much as I ever spoke to the cashiers. I had been more-chatty before my spaceplane was shot down, but only slightly. Formalities completed, I looked-around the store for supplies.
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November 12, 2011 I grabbed two tins of meat. “You haven’t seen any wild wolves around have you?” she asked. Not concentrating on the conversation, or recalling what had happened in the morning, I answered, “Uh, no.” I checked the shelves for any other food that I might want. Nothing appealed to me. What else did I need? I walked-up to the counter where the woman stood. Behind her was a freezer full of food. “Could I have some real-meat please?” I asked. “Sure. We have caribou this week.” The woman handed me a few slices of frozen caribou-tenderloins from the freezer. “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t have to pay. All of the food and supplies were free. It was one of the perks of being in temporary-retirement from the air-force. As I walked out the store door, I slipped the tins and caribou-meat into my sash-sack. I zipped-up the sack as I headed back home.
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November 12, 2011
DAY TWO – TRACKED When I returned home, the white-wolf was sitting on the landing in front of my door. Odd, I thought. Maybe she was someone’s pet. Or perhaps she was a wild-wolf who had spent a lot of time around people. The second alternative worried me… I approached my stairs slowly and cautiously, giving her time to run. I expected the white-wolf to run-off before I got too close. A slow approach would give her time to retreat, and prevent her from feeling cornered. When I reached about three-meters distant, the wolf perked-up and watched me. She didn’t make any motion to get-up, or run. Crap. Wild animals were scary. You never knew what they would do. But she was most-likely a pet wolf… I hoped. A few paces more, and I stood at the base of the steps leading-up to my door. The wolf remained on my landing, alert. Now what? I moved so slowly and quietly that I practically shuffled. I quietly spoke to her as I approached. She didn’t move. 928 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I reached the first step. She just watched. She must be a pet, I concluded. But she might not be, I worried. The second step, and onto my landing. She didn’t move. I hoped she was a pet. The large white-wolf still blocked my doorway. She hadn’t gotten up. How was I going to get in? I pulled-out my key, and slowly unlocked my door. I was about to step over the white-wolf. Then she bolted up, and into my house, and onto my bed. She snuggled into my blankets. She was pet. Relief on my part. I wasn’t about to try and chase her out now. I entered my house, and closed my door. She obviously didn’t mind being warm. I unpacked the tins of food and real-meat caribou from my sash-sack. I placed the empty sack on the top of my dresser.
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November 12, 2011 I back-glanced at the white-wolf enjoying my warm bed. It was kind-of nice to see someone-else in my house, even if she was only a wolf. I tossed my hat on top of my dresser. I left my jacket on, though. It was cold, even inside. My boots, I slipped-off by the cabin’s door. The white-wolf observed me from the comfort of my bed. No bother. She was happy. I had no problem with her being inside for awhile, or even the night. It was now time to eat. I pried a slice of freshly-frozen caribou-meat from the frozen-together lump I had picked-up from the store. It fit onto a rotisserie element in my convection oven. Three-minutes later, the meat was cooked, juicy, and crispy on the outside. I didn’t bother with a knife and fork. I just used my fingers to eat. The wolf saw me eating food. She clambered off the bed, nearly tripping on my second pair of shoes. She nudged me behind my knee. That was an odd behavior. Should I feed her? I ate some more. The white wolf sat-down on her haunches, and looked up. Begging. Yeah well, I could always get more food. I handed the remaining half of my caribou-tenderloin to the wolf’s mouth. 930 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Rather than gulping the meat down instantly, the white-wolf set the food on the ground beside my feet. She held the meat-strip in-place between her paws, and began chewing-off small bite-sized pieces. Odd behavior, I thought. I had to step over her to get another strip of meat. The white-wolf was very calm about me doing that. Three-minutes later, the timer dinged, and I pulled-out my second caribou-slice. I carried the meat over to my bed, where I sat down. The white-wolf had already claimed the floor in front of the small convection oven where I usually stood-up and ate. I began eating my second piece. The white-wolf finished her first caribou-piece. She looked around for me. When she saw me with more food, the white-wolf boltedup onto my bed, immediately behind me. Her muzzle peaked over my shoulder, and rested on it. I got the hint. The white-wolf received the remaining half of my second piece of caribou-meat. She was a very-friendly wolf-pet. She would have eaten more food, I was sure. But I had eaten enough, and I couldn’t afford to feed her. (That thought didn’t really make sense, seeing as the food was free from the store.) Night was approaching. I opened my door to let the wolf out. She stayed on my bed, and watched.
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November 12, 2011 I motioned for her to leave. Nope. She didn’t even twitch at the thought of getting-up and going outside. No problem. I closed the door. I took-off my jacket, and tossed it on the dresser-top. I climbed into my bed, underneath the sheets. The white-wolf was lying in the middle of the bed. I had to slide my legs underneath her weight. This caused her to stand-up on my bed. And then she walked-up to my end of the bed, and looked down into my face. She wolf-smiled. The white-wolf turned around. For a moment, she straddled me, her forelegs on my left, and hind-legs on my right. Then I got her butt. And then she nosed underneath the comforter with me. Friendly, and obviously cold. In her attempt to slide underneath my comforter and sheets, she completely dislodged them. I got the hint. I pulled-off my blankets. “Where had the blankets gone?” she must have thought. The white-wolf responded by standing-up, and turning around again. This time, she laid-down facing me, her nose to my shoulder. I readjusted the sheets over both of us, and we fell asleep. 932 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MY PRIOR EXISTENCE Before temporarily retiring from the air-force, I lived in a small town nestled amidst Douglas-fir-covered rolling-mountains. My sister and I owned a condo together. It had a few couches to sleep on, a television, radio, refrigerator, kitchen, and bathroom. My sister did office-work. I was a “Defender”, a fighter-spaceplane pilot sent-out to shoot-down Hominid spaceplanes in our territory. My day was nothing but stressful. It began with a relaxing walk half-a-block down the road. Our condo was one of ten in a two-story apartment-building. Five apartment buildings lined the road, each set ten-meters back from the sidewalk. In-front of the apartment buildings was cut grass. Behind the apartments was semi-deciduous forest, though it only-ever snowed a few times a year. My “ride”, half a block away, was at the “Quick-rent” motorbike stand. I ran my prepay card through its card-reader to unlock one of the parked motorbikes. My default preference was red. But today, the computer only had yellow. Swipe. 933 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Click. Cachunk. The yellow bike unlocked. The lean-forward bikes looked very cool, but they couldn’t go faster than 40 kmph. I rode the motorbike to the fighter-spaceplane “hanger”, about ten-minutes away. It was a large steel warehouse. I parked my bike in another “Quick-rent” booth, and opened the warehouse’s corrugated-steel door with my work key. The hanger was empty except for a handful of the pyramidal fighter-spaceplanes we flew. My spaceplane’s name was “Lucy”. I shared her with another pilot, a woman. In the corner was a folding table covered with assorted helmets. I grabbed one, tried it on, and found it to be the wrong size. I put that down, and found one that fit me. I strapped it on. Lucy’s door opened when I walked near her. I clambered up a step ladder, and through the DeLorean-like gull-wing door. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeLorean_DMC-12) Inside Lucy was a shallow lightning-bolt-shaped seat, lying almost horizontal. I sat/lay down into it, and strapped myself in. Above me was a red button for “Engine warm-up” that I pushed. I toggled a metal flip-switch to turn-on the computer and telemetry. And a blue-button to my left, closed the door. I had to wait ten minutes for the ship to warm-up. 934 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 While that was happening, I made sure all of the fighter’s missiles were loaded (some icon-lights showed them in white), and that the spaceplane had enough nonbaryonic-matter liquid-fuel (a simple fuel-gauge). A light quietly beeped-on to indicate that Lucy had warmed up. I depressed the acceleration foot-pedals to release a safety. An armrest attached to the seat had a tricky-to-get-to button that I also pressed. Lucy dematerialized. Outside of my front “window” – more of an array of video-monitors designed to look like a window – I saw grey fade into stars and symbols. Now outside of my planet’s gravity field, my seat rotated so I that I sat vertically, looking straight-out Lucy’s window. An automatic and semi-random flight-path took me away from the docking-station, and the planet. Once I and my spaceplane were sufficiently-far from the docking-station, and potential telepathic spy-devices, Lucy’s computer-screen displayed my orders. A Hominid cube cargo-ship was running supplies to an illegal Hominid colony on one of our planets. The Hominids had seeded their colonies all-over our territory. I was instructed to shoot the cargo-ship down. I accepted the coordinates. A semi-random flight-path was generated to take me there. I watched the stars fly past. The flight took perhaps an hour. When the cube was detected by Lucy’s sensors, I took manual control.
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November 12, 2011 I didn’t particularly sneak-up on the cube. Lucy should be invisible to the cube. And Lucy’s sensors didn’t detect any-other spaceplanes in the area. I saw the cube cargo-ship electronically sketched on my display screen. Sometimes the visuals were real images. Other times, they were 3D-graphics that almost looked real. And sometimes they were red-or-blue wireframe outlines of the objects. The missile icons turned light-blue; I was close-enough to fire at the cargo-vessel. Years ago, we used to first radio the Hominids and warn them that we were about to blow-up their spaceplane. We didn’t warn them anymore. We just fired. The missiles left my spaceplane. I didn’t see them hit. Someone blasted me out of the sky two seconds after I fired. Space is exceptionally quiet, except for a crackling you hear in your ears. My spaceplane was gone. Sitting alone in my ejected seat, I didn’t see the cube cargo-vessel. It must have been extradimensional. My eyeballs began freezing over.
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November 12, 2011 I awoke in a hospital. I had done this before. I would have been placed into a new body. I was groggy from having died, as expected. Body-death recovery typically took a few weeks. This time, I learned, I was going into temporary-retirement. My injuries had been too-severe.
DAY THREE – PLAYFUL When I awoke in the morning, the wolf had managed to prop her fore-body onto my chest. Her head and muzzle rested on my right shoulder. She lightly-licked her lips as she also woke up. I realized that I had somehow earned a pet wolf. That day, I returned to the fallen tree-log that I had been trying to swing off the path. I brought a small arc-saw with me. The white-wolf followed behind and in front of me, and occasionally at my side. Cutting the frozen tree-trunk would be impossible. The frozen roots would be equally as frozen, but one-tenth the cutting-area each. The task took me a few hours. And then it took an extra hour because the white-wolf kept playfully interfering. 937 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t see her for the first hour of tree-root cutting. And then, while I was bent-over and concentrating on sawing a particularly hard-toreach root, the tree shifted down. I looked up. The happy-smiling white-wolf had sat her fore-body on top of the log. That actually made cutting the tough-to-get-to root a bit easier… … for about two minutes. The white-wolf released her weight from the fallen tree; she must have gotten bored. By the time I looked up, I saw her running tail-high towards the north-west. Half an hour later, she approached me silently from the east. And began pawing my hands. She tried to mouth-grab the arc-saw from my hands. I wouldn’t let her do that; she might cut her mouth. I wasn’t worried about her running-off with the saw; that was a dog-thing. I spent five minutes playing keep-away, holding the saw up above my head so she couldn’t get it. She was thinking about jumping. I knew that. But then she got bored and wandered off. Two minutes later, I once-again had to keep the saw away from her. My cutting-progress slowed to nothing, until she tired of her play half an hour later. The white-wolf wandered-off. I got another fifteen minutes of work done.
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November 12, 2011 And then from nowhere, the wolf’s white back interposed itself between my face and the roots I was sawing. I pushed her away a few times. But she kept returning and bodily-blocking my work, almost pretending that she had coincidently decided to stand “right there” and hadn’t noticed that I was also there. By lunch-time, I had ninety-percent of the tree off-of the path. I had cut through ten frozen roots. It was all too-much work, especially with a white-wolf playfully imposing herself. I gave up, and returned home. The white-wolf followed at my side. Both she and I ate the remainder of my caribou real-meat. This time, she ate the entire piece at once. On the first day, she had daintily chewed-off small individual bites from the larger piece she had held between her fore-paws. I didn’t want to go out for the afternoon. The morning’s tree-work tired me out. The fallen branches could wait. I spent the afternoon and evening lying-down in my warm bed, the white-wolf half on-top of me, comforter and sheets over both of us. I wondered if I should stop-by the store tomorrow, and see if she was anyone’s pet. When I got-up briefly for dinner, I almost ripped a few button-loops off-of my shirt. The white-wolf had someone gotten one of her fore-paws inserted chest-high into the split-front of my button-down shirt. Her fore-paw was caught between two button-knots, and tugged at my shirt as both she and I got up.
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November 12, 2011
DAY FOUR – DESSERT IN BED When I awoke in the morning, the white-wolf was sleeping entirely on-top of me, underneath the blankets. She began the warmth-conserving move sometime around midnight. I found it difficult to breath with her weight on my chest and stomach, but she was obviously comfortable, so I didn’t make much of a fuss. I awoke two-hours later with her fore-paw in my mouth. She had moved it in her sleep. I gently moved her fore-paw aside, and returned to sleep. I spent the day tossing sticks off the pathway. The white-wolf followed me around. She couldn’t playfully interfere with that job. I found it easy-enough to walk around her when she perpendicularly imposed herself between me and the sticks. When she first got in the way of a stick that I wanted to toss-off the pathway, I merely thought that she had coincidentally stopped in front of my goal. Three coincidences later, and an intelligence-pattern emerged. The white-wolf ran back-and-forth across the pathway all day. I noticed that she stayed closer to-me than the previous day. We returned home in the evening. She was the first into the cabin, and into bed. Since I was out of real-meat, I opened a tin of processed meat. Rather than peel-off individual slices, and eat one thin slice at a time, I cut-off a wedge of slices. The white-wolf weighed slightly-more than me, perhaps seventy kilograms. If I gave her as much food as I gave myself, that would be fair. 940 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I pried the slices apart, half-way through, and gave the white-wolf one of the meattriangles on the floor. I ate the other, a kind of ham. My triangle of tinned ham turned-out to be distinctly unsatisfying. I grabbed an unopened bag of pork-rinds from the kitchen-counter, and lay down in bed with it. Since the white-wolf was still busy eating her ham-wedge – she had particular difficulty when individual slices of ham stuck to the floor – I covered myself with the blankets. My back was propped-up against the wall with some pillows. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pork_rind) I opened-up the pork-rind bag, and began munching. That got her attention! The white-wolf jumped onto my bed, and walked-up my body.
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November 12, 2011 She lay down on top of me, leg to leg. Every-time I grabbed and ate a pork rind, I had to look into her begging-face, staringup at me. She got every-other pork-rind. Half an hour later, I turned-off the lights. Ten seconds after my room went dark, I got a butt in my face, as the white-wolf climbed underneath my blankets.
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November 12, 2011
DAY FIVE – BACK INTO TOWN About two in the morning, the white-wolf’s body slid part-way off my body. When I awoke several-hours later, only three-quarters of her weight was on me. My task for the day was obvious: I needed more food. With both the white-wolf and me in the house, I was going through twice as much food as normal. And I needed to see if anyone had lost a pet wolf. I put on my sash-bag, and walked out the door with the white-wolf. She ran in front of me, behind me, at my side, left-and-right across the track, and everywhere else. The white-wolf obviously wasn’t going to leave me, I thought. But then, about one-third of the way into “town”, the white-wolf stopped and wouldn’t go any further. I walked five-minutes beyond her stopping-point before I realized that she was no-longer tracking me. I looked back. She was three-hundred meters behind me, standing alert, and watching me from a distance. I called for her to follow. She may have considered running to me. But then she turned-around homewards, and walked ten-meters back towards the cabin. She stopped. And then she turnedabout, and looked at me, perhaps nervously. Did she see a predator of some sort? Was that what she was nervous about?
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November 12, 2011 I scanned-around in all directions, but I couldn’t see any animals except a distant rabbit-sized chipmunk. There couldn’t be a predator; the chipmunk would have disappeared. Nor did the planet have any predators; I was certain that someone told me that. Maybe the white-wolf was tired. I walked back to her. She stayed in place, and waited while I approached, nervously prancing left-andright. When I was within ten meters, I once-again called for her to follow me. I waved her towards me. The white-wolf swayed to her left, and then walked back towards the house another five meters. She stopped, and swung-around to look-back at me. Obviously, she wanted to return home. I couldn’t do that though. I needed food. I walked up to her. The white-wolf waited for me to approach. She had no collar or leash. If she had one, I could lead her to the store. What was I to do? I tried pushing-on her body, and pointing her towards the store. She acquiesced a little-bit. I then tried to push her butt, in an attempt to convince her to move forward. This definitely DID NOT WORK. The white-wolf became evasive after that. How was I going to get her to come to the store with me? (Oddly, two days before, I wasn’t bothered when she disappeared from my sight for an hour at a time.)
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November 12, 2011 If I left the white-wolf on the path here, she might leave me forever. (Another odd thought.) Or she might get herself lost on the way back. (Slightly more-plausible.) Or she might forsake me and decide to befriend someone else. (This thought worried me.) I needed a collar for her, perhaps. Did I have one in my bag? (I knew full-well that I didn’t.) Perhaps I could use the straps from my bag and fashion a collar? I took-off my sash-bag and to see if I had any spare straps in it, or if I could somehow use the entire sash-bag as a collar. One of the sash-bag straps might be looped into a collar. I couldn’t do that. Well, I could… but that wouldn’t be nice for the white-wolf. I put the sash-pack back on. Despite a niggling thought in the back of my mind that I should walk back and fashion a collar for the wolf, I decided not to. She was a free creature. Nor was I going to spend two hours walking-back, fashioning a collar, and returning. I called to the white-wolf to follow. She wouldn’t. Instead, the white-wolf evasively and nervously paced between the left-and-right edges of the path. I walked fifty meters down the path towards the store.
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November 12, 2011 When I turned around, the white-wolf had only followed me a few meters. I called and motioned to her again. She crept backwards. Another fifty meters, and she was now ninety meters away. Then she was one-hundred-and-fifty meters back. And then three-hundred meters. And then I rounded a bend. She was out of sight. I would stop and peer behind me every ten minutes. The white-wolf hadn’t followed. That saddened me. I slowed-downed my pace walking to the shop. But when I reached the shop, I decided not to dally there. I would get my shopping done quickly, and head back home at a quickened pace just in-case the wolf was sitting on my cabin’s steps. A different Wolfen-woman was cashier today. “Hello,” I said. “Oh, hello.” She was doing a crossword puzzle. “Is anyone missing a wolf pet?” I remembered to ask. “No, I haven’t heard of anyone missing one.” “If anyone asks, tell them I found a very friendly wolf-pet.” I was going to say, “She is staying at my house,” but I didn’t. “Sure. If anyone comes in looking for a lost wolf-pet, I’ll mention that you found one.”
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November 12, 2011 I grabbed two more tins of meat, an extra blanket, and twice as much real-meat as usual. The shop-attendant didn’t complain; I was feeding two. With my bag over-full, the blanket dangling-out of the half-zippered sash-pouch, I began a brisk-walk back. I didn’t want to leave the wolf alone for long. She might not come back. To my relief, the white-wolf met me ten-minutes’ walk from the shop. She was very excited to see me, running back-and-forth across the pathway. She even trotted a few circles around me. I pulled-out the new blanket and showed it to her. She danced in front of me. I opened it up, and threw it on her. Smile-laugh. The white-wolf ran covered by the blanket for a few minutes, until the thick-red blanket fell off. Then she grabbed it with her mouth, and ran with it a ways down the path. Fifty-meters later, I pick-it up off the frozen path, and packed the blanket into my sash-bag. The white-wolf was now joyfully meandering one-hundred meters in front of me.
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November 12, 2011
DAY TWO – SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! THIS IS COLD! “Go on sis! Shoo! The house is two-hundred meters that way.” My two-legged sister pointed towards an unseen house, and then nearly kicked me out of our spaceplane. Why did I have to do this? “Because YOU’RE the one who said you didn’t want to fight in combat. If you’re not a fighter, then you’re a breeder, or you help the fighters,” she answered, having read my thought. Fuck you. I was now a four-legged wolf for genetic-diversity reasons. I clambered-out of the spaceplane, onto the frozen ground. I looked back at my sister. She pointed me towards the house. The path upon-which I was ditched, veered off to my left. It would lead to the house, half-a-kilometer away. If I needed help, there was a small village a few-hours walk away. Signs along the frozen path pointed the way. I walked a few meters down the path to get away from the spaceplane’s electromagnetic field, and then turned-around to say goodbye. My sister’s spaceplane was fading-away as it went extradimensional. She had to leave quickly so that the Hominid militaries wouldn’t find her, and shoot her down. And so that the Hominid mind-readers wouldn’t suspect that I was here either. What now? 948 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Onward to the house. Fuck the frozen path though; I was a wolf, wasn’t I. I diverted off-of the path, and into twenty-centimeter-high snow. Fuck! Shit, it was cold. I took a few more four-legged steps into the snow. Shit! Shit! Shit! This is cold!
DAY ONE – “I HAVE A NEW BODY FOR YOU” My sister and I lived in a five-pod extradimensional spaceplane. Inside, it was a sixhundred square-meter house. On the outside, it was just a pie-plate UFO. We had a backup-attachment that could make it look like a blue-painted police-box. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TARDIS) I was lying on our stainless-steel operating-room table. Our operating-room was located next to the laundry and dry storage. Standing next to the operating-room table, my sister grabbed an oxygen-mask, and placed the oxygen-mask over my muzzle. She then stretched the mask’s elastic949 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 headband over my ears, and around the back of my head. That would keep the mask on. Two days before, my sister had told me that “I was in-luck”. A new body had arrived for me. It was specially-designed to withstand chemical and viral attacks expected from the Hominids. We had flown our spaceplane in retreat an enormous distance already, running from the advancing Hominid phalanxes/hoards. When we began our evacuation-journey to here, we were told that the space we were running-to was perfectly safe. By the time we got here, the space was engulfed in war. That changed both of our plans. “I’m going to turn the first gas on,” said my sister, acting as body-swapping doctor. “It [body swapping] was an “easy” medical procedure,” she had claimed. My sister had helped many people swap to new bodies. So she said. I couldn’t talk with the mask on. To let my sister know that I had heard her, I raised my right arm, and signaled with my hand.
Blank.
Five minutes later, I woke-up, without having remembered going to sleep. It was actually thirty-minutes later, but it felt like five to me. “Don’t move much. We still have some work to do,” came someone else’s telepathic voice. I didn’t move. I felt that I was lying on my side, most-likely on the stainless-steel operating table. 950 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My eyes were closed, perhaps taped closed. I had been warned about this. My sister and someone-else were moving around me. “Just a minute,” telepathed the someone-else. The odors were very-strong in here. Lots of medications. Many different peoplesmells. Something must have happened. I was no-longer in my spaceplane’s operating-room. “We’re going to remove the tape from your eyes,” said the someone. I peered-out as the tape-tabs were pulled from my eyes. I was looking at a twolegged Deer… or perhaps an Elk. Behind her stood my sister, smiling nervously. My vision was shaper in this body, I noticed. Color seemed less-saturated though. “Just wait,” joke-commanded the Elk-woman who had removed the eye-tape. The Elk-woman walked out of view. More tape and straps were pulled from my arms, chest, and legs. Three minutes later, I still couldn’t move my head. Perhaps it was strapped down. Yup. The strapping was removed. Someone grabbed my chest from behind. A third person was here. Some hooves took-hold of my legs. “We’re going to help you to the ground. This will be safer for you than if you got-off the operating-table yourself.” Before undergoing the body-swap, I had thought I
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November 12, 2011 would be able to just slide-off the operating-table in my new body, put-on some clothes, and walk back into my television-room. Oh well. Something had happened. Very-strong arms picked me up by my chest. My new body felt a bit strange. Whoever moved me didn’t take much care in my comfort and non-panic. I had been looking horizontally, staring at an empty operating table. When I was effortlessly lifted-up by the unseen giant, my head rolled, and I got a glimpse of the lights hanging-down from the ceiling. I tried to right my head so I could better-discern what was happening. This didn’t help. When your soul is first attached to a new body, you can only see colors, then shapes, and then after a few weeks, your soul (or your new brain) automatically counteracts motion. I was just seeing shapes. As I was moved, the motion of my head translated into my perception that the room was swaying-and-rotating erratically back-and-forth. It was like watching a home-video photographed by someone who quick-rotated the videocamera 360-degrees in five seconds. I didn’t perceive that my head and body stopped moving until ten seconds after they actually had stopped. “We’re going to put you on the ground now,” said another telepathic voice, from the person who had picked me up. I felt my feet touch the cold floor. My torso was horizontal. And then my sister crouched-down near my head, and held my hands to the floor. She nearly-accidentally kneed my jaw. Something was wrong. 952 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How could my torso be horizontal, my legs be straight out, and my feet on the floor? And how could my arms be extended straight out, and my hands on the floor at the same time? And my head was looking horizontally at my sister’s knee. My hands didn’t feel right either. “I’m going to release your weight. Standing will be a bit odd.” The strong person who held-up most of my weight via his grip on my ribcage, relaxed his support. My feet AND HANDS gradually took more-and-more weight. Soon, I was standing using only my own muscles, a pair of hands to either side of my torso to steady me. My sister, still kneeling down, steadied my fore-legs. My hindlegs were propped into place also, but I couldn’t see how. My head was only three-quarters of a meter off the ground. I looked down at the ground. My hands were paws! I looked up and left, at my sister’s face. What the fuck happened? “You’re a wolf,” she said, a joking smile on her face. “Why am I a wolf?” I asked sardonically. I found that I couldn’t vocalize properly. “Fuck,” I swore. That-too came-out sounding weird. I looked-around a bit. My head was three-quarters of a meter off the ground! 953 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I could see the operating-table legs and wheels. I could see the legs of the Deer-woman a few meters distant. “What happened? Did something go wrong with the operation?” The sentences I spoke were blurred and unintelligible, like baby-Wolfen-talk. “Um,” my sister admitted. “You said you didn’t want to be in combat, right?” “Yeah.” That word came-out almost correct. “This is the only way for you to avoid combat.” “Are you serious?” I asked in an indistinguishable babble. “Yup.” “I am going to slowly release your hands,” said my sister, as she let-lose her grip, and stepped away. She stood up. All I saw of her were her knees. I didn’t fall down. The giant had been steadying my hind legs with his feet. He also stepped back. I was a wolf. I was a wolf? Shit. “You’re not going to like this part, ”warned my sister. Someone wrapped a collar around my neck, and then I was leashed.
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November 12, 2011 And then a dog-halter was pulled over my head, just to make sure. Someone buckled-it up. What was going on? “This is just training,” answered the Deer-woman. “Don’t worry.” The Deer-woman walked-up to me and took the leash-end from the giant-person standing behind me. My sister wouldn’t take it. “Come. Follow me,” the Deer-woman said in a jokingly-mocking tone. I looked up at my sister. She was both embarrassed, and relishing in the joke. My collar… MY COLLAR… pulled at my neck. Okay, this was a joke. I hoped. Pulled-on by the collar, I walked a few steps. I could handle walking. I didn’t like this. I hoped my sister was joking. This was only temporary. I’d be put into a new two-legged body soon, not this four-legged one. At least I wasn’t male. Was I male? I looked underneath, but couldn’t. 955 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Elk-woman tugged on my leash, preventing my head from looking anywhere but forward. “No peaking.” “Don’t worry sis, you’re still a sister.” The Elk-woman led me to the end of the long operating-room, and then led me in an arc to turn me around. Turns were a little difficult, especially on the slippery floor. I was collar-led past my operating-table, and out of the operating room. This was not my spaceplane’s operating-room. I had already guessed that. More importantly, my body – My ORIGINAL body – wasn’t on any of the operating tables. “Where is my body?” I asked with child-like unintelligibility. The Deer looked at my sister. “This is your body… sis.” “No. This is a wolf’s body!” “No. This is your body now,” reinforced the Deer. Then my sister told me the bad news. “We already recycled your old body. It went into the protein vats.” Unknown facial-expression from me. “Shit. Are you serious?” “Come,” answered the Deer, as she tugged at my collar. I was collar-led out of the operating room, and to the right. In the new room was an obstacle course. 956 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The first obstacle I was collar-led onto was an artificial sinusoidal-hillock of sandpaper and rocks. And then I had to climb-up some steps. And then down the other side. I hated the collar already. I then had to crawl through a tube… without the collar. And in the corner was a bed that I had to hop onto. This took a few goes. Getting down was even scarier. I needed someone to support and steady me the first few tries. And finally, my sister leash-led me to a yellow rubber chew-toy. I wasn’t going to pick it up. My sister knelt-down, and disconnected the leash. “You tell her,” said the Elk. “Here’s the deal, sis.” A few more pieces of information were given to me. “You won’t fight. We know that. But you can’t sit around and do nothing. We need to keep some of us safe, just in-case we all die.” “Your assignment during the war is to hide-out on a planet. During that time, you will be four-legged.” I nearly growled. Hey! I could actually growl! My sister had read my mind, and laughed. The Deer kicked my hind-leg in humor.
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November 12, 2011 “You obviously cannot maintain yourself four-legged. You cannot brush your teeth, do the dishes, or cook…” My sister had said the same about the two-legged me, the week before. “You will be assigned a two-legged Wolfen to take care of you.” That didn’t make any sense. Why spend a two-legged resource to take-care of a fourlegged resource? “Just wait. It gets better,” jested my sister. “We have specially selected your twolegged Wolfen caretaker to be 100% personality-compatible with you.” That was good news, actually. My sister was only fifteen-percent personalitycompatible with me, especially at the moment. Professional personality-matching services were quite expensive. They worked very well. Unfortunately, your ideal friend would inevitably be five-hundred-and-ninetytwo galaxies away… so far away that you would never-ever meet them. Who had they selected to be my friend and caretaker? “Your caretaker will be a MALE!” My sister emoted her eyes wide, meaning both, “You’re going to like this,” and “This should be fun.” The “male” part didn’t particularly appeal to me at the moment, and not ever in the past. Men weren’t necessary. And neither were children. My sister didn’t mention the arctic conditions until an hour later. The cramped cabin (she had called it a house), the boring stick-moving, and the tinned-ham, I had to find-out for myself.
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November 12, 2011
DAY TWO – THE SCOUTING PORTION OF THE HUNT After walking a dozen steps through the leg-penetrating cold of the snow, I decided to walk on the cleared path instead. One-hundred meters down the path, I saw my future home. It was a cabin. And it was just a TAD smaller than I expected. I thought it would be at least twohundred square-meters, not sixteen. I sat and watched the cabin for a quarter of an hour. Was that really the right house? Maybe it was the house’s garden-shed? Conveniently, out walked my male Wolfen, all bundled-up for the cold. Meanwhile, I was freezing. I slunk-back into the trees, so he wouldn’t see me. It would be fun to try stalking him. “Shit! Cold! Cold! Fuck!” I thought one swear-word per step, as I walked through the snow towards some trees. I would hide behind them. The Wolfen-man walked past me, without noticing. Cool! I could hide. I waited another five minutes to make sure he was completely out of sight. Should I follow?
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November 12, 2011 No, I thought. I’ll just sneak into his house and wait for him. It would be much warmer in there. I walked down the pathway to the house, climbed up two steps, and stood beneath the door. How was I going to open it? It had no door-handle! Just a circular brass lock. Which meant it was locked. How would I open the door even if it had a door-handle? Fuck. Maybe there was a backdoor. I circled around the cabin, finding nothing but stacked sticks behind. What now? I certainly wasn’t going to sit-still in the cold. My sister and our heated media-room were long gone. I decided to follow the man and see what my “best matching-male within fivehundred-and-ninety-six galaxies” was doing. It had only been ten minutes since I last saw him. He should be easy-enough to find. I walked after him. Then I trotted. This was fun! Then I broke into a run. Wheee! 960 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Then I did a face-plant into the snow. Oh well, back to a trot. I eventually found my man trying to push a fallen-log off the pathway. He saw me, but then went back to working on his log. I looked like a wild wolf, so I decided to play a wild wolf. I hid underneath a pine tree, on a patch of ground without snow, and watched the Wolfen-man from a distance. My sister had told me that his name was Jacob. When he finished with his fallen tree, Jacob walked-back to his house. I followed a few-hundred meters behind, just to be safe… and because it was fun. I should have been faster. I could have squeezed inside. I saw Jacob walk into his house, and close the front-door. I began planning to sneak-up to the house, and to paw on the Jacob’s door. That should earn me entry. I was fifty-meters away from my plan, when the door opened. Don’t close that door! The door shut. The Wolfen-man walked-out and to his right, down a different path. So much for warmth and surprises. I followed the man down the path: Out of curiosity, to keep myself warm, and because I had nothing else to do. Walking long-distances on four legs was much easier than on two legs. The man never saw me as I followed behind. He never saw me as he walked into the store. 961 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Nor when he left the store with a full sash-sack. And he didn’t see me on his way back home either! Cool. Two-hundred meters before he reached his house – I recognized the area – I bolted ahead of my future roomie and beat him to the front door. I laid down and waited, pretending that I had been waiting there all day.
DAY THREE – THE UP-CLOSE HUNT While Jacob sawed his fallen-tree, I wandered-about and played wolf for awhile… which was fun. It was fun not to think. It was even more fun to not-worry about the war. But I did need to think. Why was Jacob selected for me? He “felt” like a nice guy… which was always an important quality. His financial circumstances weren’t my dream husband roomie. A four-by-four meter cabin with limited heating, no toilet, and only a toaster-oven wouldn’t normally have appealed to me. … but it was cozy. 962 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Smile. Television would have been nice though. Jacob was quiet-spoken… which I liked… but which I didn’t. It would be a challenge for me to get him to “emerge from his quiet-shell”. I decided I could do that. That effort was in-itself fun. Jacob’s life was BORING so far. Cutting logs wasn’t terribly interesting. What did he do on his more interesting days? Maybe a bit of prodding would get him to drop the boring log-moving task, and jump to his next work-task. Odds were, his other tasks would be more exciting. But then again, whether his work was exciting to me didn’t really matter. I didn’t have to spend all day with him. If he wanted to do boring work, he could do boring work… but I could encourage him to do more-interesting work. Why else would I have been matched-up with him? He was single. So was I. He was two-legged. I was four-legged… That provided a problem. But, I’d be twolegged after the war was over. (Virtual-pillow gets thrown at Mike for writing this. I’m still four-legged.) Oh well, being four-legged for awhile was fun. Getting a two-legged Wolfen to fall in love with a four-legged Wolf was also a fun challenge. What else did we have in common? Given his sixteen square-meter cabin, and his relaxed and low-stress work habits, Jacob was obviously not in a hurry to get anywhere quickly. Neither was I. A good fit. But he was boring as shit… which as I stated before… was a fun activity to work on. Having thought-about Jacob that for an hour, I got bored. 963 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I let my playful wolfish side take over. I never had a playful wolfish side, but now that I was a wolf, I might-as-well. I wandered-back to Jacob. He didn’t notice me. I elbow-leaned on the stump he was cutting. I had experience doing that. When twolegged, I had elbow-leaned against many nightclub bars. My lean said, “Here I am. I’m ready to be picked-up for a date.” Jacob was sawing something at the end of the tree, perhaps a branch. He looked-up soon-after I did my bar-counter lean, and then went back to sawing. I have had many bar-guys pass me over, but none went back to sawing. Oh well, time to wander-around some more. I found some chipmunk-tracks and followed them a ways. Then I returned to Jacob. He was still sawing. I tried to grab his saw with my hands paws. They proved ineffectual. So I tried to grab the saw with my mouth. (I had never thought about grabbing an object with my mouth before, ever.) That didn’t work either. Jacob raised the saw above his head. He was playing! No fair holding the saw above your head! 964 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I wondered if I could jump high-enough to get it. Most-likely not. I’d have to practice jumping. There were plenty of branches to jump-up to and catch. (I had never thought about jumping up and catching branches with my mouth before, ever.) I went away and practiced jumping. When I came back, Jacob once-again held the saw too-high for me to jump. So I went back and practiced some more. Eventually, my jumping height reduced due to weariness… and after I sprained my right rear-ankle. I gave-up on the saw-grabbing method as a way to coax Jacob into doing more-interesting work. I resorted to a trick that I had used many-times with my sister. I learned that if I stood in front of whatever she was doing, she would eventually stop doing it. Lots of Wolfen employ that trick. It’s REALLY annoying, but it works! Body-imposition worked with Jacob also! Jacob abandoned his task for the day, and returned home with me. We had a good meal, and a better snuggle.
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DAY FOUR – MORE BRANCHES Telepathy still didn’t work. If it didn’t work after three days on the planet, it wasn’t likely to ever work. I was almost-certainly signal-blocked so that the Hominid mindlisteners, working from telepathy call-centers on neighboring planets, wouldn’t think I was any more than a pet. Jacob may have been blocked also, hiding his military past from the Hominids. Jacob didn’t return to his tree-stump today! Instead, he spent the day tossing fallen-branches off the pathways in his territory. My “stand in front of someone” approach didn’t halt the branch-tossing. Jacob just walked around me. So I wandered-off to play wolf some-more. My nose was much better than before, particularly when I placed it close to the ground. I could actually smell the snow footfalls of the chipmunk tracks. As well as where they urinated and defecated. And if they were healthy or ill. Such observation-abilities weren’t much use in the real world, but they were fun to try. I returned to Jacob, to keep track of his location… and to harass him a little bit. I didn’t do too-much pestering, since Jacob obviously had work he needed to get done. So I wandered-off again. I practiced running without ending-up in a nose dive. 966 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And I practiced some more jumping. And then I ate some snow because I was thirsty. And then I returned to where Jacob had been, but he had moved-on. I could no-longer see him. I could have just followed the path, or even looked for his footprints, but I had more fun sniffing-out his footfalls. I didn’t like the smell of his boots. His feet smelled much better. Once I found Jacob, I harassed him so that he wouldn’t forget that I was there. And then I found someplace to sit… and think. How would I reveal to Jacob that I was intelligent? I didn’t want to spend my entire life pretending that I was a pet. I would have to speak to Jacob. I hadn’t tried speaking to him yet because I was having too-much fun being a wolf. I did know that I didn’t understand Jacob’s language. I would have to get Jacob to teach me his language. There was no point in me teaching Jacob my language. My wolf-shaped mouth and vocal-tract couldn’t properly annunciate-and-vocalize my language, or his. I got-up from my impromptu thinking-spot, and found Jacob again. And then I found another thinking-spot, one which had no chipmunk urine-odor. What else did I need to think about? I needed to work on our relationship-bonding. I had to do more than taking food from behind his back, and sleeping on top of him at night. More cuddling. More playing. 967 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That would work. And it did! Later that evening, when Jacob pulled-out his bag of junk food, I succeeded wonderfully. He couldn’t resist me staring puppy-like up at him. (Puppy-like stares had never worked with the men I encountered at Wolfen bars.) Approaching from behind, and puppy-like stares, were un-Wolfen. There were very wolf-like though. I didn’t realize it, but my personality was changing.
DAY FIVE – PREDATOR AND ENSLAVE MENT Despite yesterday’s conclusion that telepathy would never work for me on this planet, I tried telepathy once-again. It was still disabled. What would Jacob do today? Hopefully it wasn’t picking-up sticks. When Jacob put-on his sash-sack, I suspected that he was going shopping. I didn’t know what he needed to purchase, though. I didn’t care. My mind could use a walk down a different pathway, one with interesting building-scenery at the end. I followed Jacob for three-quarters of an hour before something worried my intuition. Something felt wrong. Perhaps my wolf-senses sensed a predator in the area. 968 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Who knows. There might be a bear or allosaurus in the area. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allosaurus) I stopped, and scanned around. I couldn’t see anything. What really freaked me out about the event was how I was treated by Jacob. Jacob noticed that I had fallen far-behind and stopped. He called to me. I wanted him by my side for his own safety. I waited. Jacob walked the three-hundred meters back to me. I felt safer now that Jacob was safely under my protection. But then he tried to push me. What an odd way for him to convince me to continue walking forward. Didn’t he try to imagine what I was thinking? He should have reasoned-out that I had sensed danger. I became very nervous after that. Somehow I knew that Jacob decided to put a leash on me. And somehow I knew that he was thinking about taking me to the store, and tying me up there. But those “knews” could just be my imagination. But they weren’t… Jacob pulled-off his sash-sack, and looked to see if he could fashion one of the straps into a collar. Shit. 969 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I didn’t like that. That nearly severed our relationship right there. I don’t know what I would have done if he had collared me. I wouldn’t let him collar me, because then he could have tied me up. I didn’t want to be tied-up and sold-off to someone. (I didn’t think-about where the “sold-off” idea had come from.) Fear in mind, I backed off. I wouldn’t let Jacob get near me. If I would have thought about the incident, I would have realized that perhaps he was being telepathically influenced by Hominid mind-controllers. Perhaps the nearby Hominids, and there were always nearby Hominids, had somehow begun listening to our relationship. But I didn’t think about that at the time. Later that afternoon, after Jacob had left the store, I completely forgot about his transgressions. Though whenever I saw him with his sash-sack, I always thought about being collared. Jacob gave-up on me, and walked to the store alone. I sat and reasoned my situation-out, watching Jacob disappear around a bed. I didn’t trust him (at the moment). I didn’t want to follow him. But my wolf-senses warned me of danger, so I felt it imperative that I protect him. Any sort of wild-animal predator could be out there. Two people could fight-off a predator better than one. So I tagged-along several-hundred meters behind Jacob, not letting him see me.
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November 12, 2011 I waited outside the small general-store for Jacob. He took only five minutes to buy his food. When I glimpsed his silhouette leaving the store, I rushed homeward on the path a few-hundred meters, and waited for Jacob there. I now had a solution to a problem, though. The next time Jacob went to the store, I could tag behind him, and wait outside. He wouldn’t be able to tie-me up then. Wait a minute! That solution didn’t make any sense. I’d have to think about my not-so-brilliant conclusion later-on… Jacob walked into view. When he saw me, Jacob pulled a blanket out of his bag. It was obviously for me. When Jacob got close enough, he tossed the blanket over me. I hated that. But I got the symbolic gesture. I ran down the path with the blanket, hoping Jacob would give chase. (I didn’t notice how wolf-like I was becoming.) Jacob didn’t chase me. But he did pick-up the blanket. There was something satisfying about having someone look-after me.
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DAY SIX – WORDS I awoke before Jacob did. I had spent the night with my fore-body on-top of his chest. I thought-about licking him awake, but then realized I was thinking too wolflike. When Jacob’s eyes opened, I spoke “Hello”. Despite my baby-Wolfen-speak, the word came-out clearly, sounding like “aa-oo” combined with a yawn. Jacob just looked at me funny. I said “Hello” again. He must-have assumed I was yawning. Jacob had not yet spoken more than a few phrases to me. He most-often spoke “Zhie-ey” to me, most-likely meaning “Come [here]”. He still thought I was an animalwolf. If Jacob thought that “Hello” was a yawn from an animal-wolf, I’d try something more-complicated. My spoken “How are you?” (“oo wah-yuh”) was unintelligible due to my wolf-shaped mouth and vocal-tract, even to myself. Jacob heard the phrase though. He propped himself up in bed, quizzical. His arm-muscles had to make an extra effort because my weight was still on his chest. I liked that; I don’t know why. Jacob said something, but I didn’t understand.
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November 12, 2011 I tilted my head in a question. He repeated the phrase. I still couldn’t understand what he said. I tried to remember it. Damn. Jacob must have been speaking a different language. That would make communication more difficult. “I don’t understand you,” I spoke once. My articulation was so muddied that I wouldn’t have understood myself speak. “I don’t understand you,” I spoke a second time, so that Jacob would know I was speaking a language, and not imitating sounds. Quizzical look from Jacob. He was getting it! Jacob spoke a different phrase. What did he say? And then Jacob decided it was time to get-up, and out of bed. Nope. No success. “Getting out of bed” wasn’t the response I expected from him. I thought he would begin talking-his-head-off to me. Instead, it seemed to me that Jacob half got-it. He thought something was unusual about me. Perhaps I was a particularly-intelligent wolf-pet who had been trained to say “Hello” and “How are you?” and “I don’t understand you.” Bastard.
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November 12, 2011 Jacob was intellectually dense, as well as boring. I could fix the boring. The slow-onthe-thought part was trickier. When I got back to my spaceplane, my sister and I would be able to give him some drugs to make him more intelligent. Jacob prepared to go out, as usual. I followed him out the door. Once-again, we he picked-up sticks and fallen logs. To make Jacob’s stick-cleaning task more-interesting to me, and to show Jacob that I was intelligent, I began teaching Jacob my language… though spoken with infantWolfen articulation. I would speak “Stick” whenever Jacob picked up a stick. He heard this word many times during the day. Whenever we came across a fallen log, always pushed-off to the pathway’s side, I would run the far-side of the log. I’d turn-around to face Jacob, and as clearly as possible, annunciate “Log”. What else could I name? “Snow” … It was everywhere. “Sky”… Pointing was difficult. “Tree”… They were everywhere also. And the word was too-difficult to say with my mouth. A Macy’s-like department-store would have been a much-better place to teach Jacob my language. “Shirt”, “Skirt”, “Purse”, “Shish-kebab”, “Chocolate”, “Sofa”. Towards the end of the day, Jacob realized that I could speak a few words. In his mind, my intelligence-estimate would be rising. I was perhaps a talking-wolf, with an IQ of about 40. I wasn’t entirely sure that Jacob had learned my words for “stick” and “log” though. 974 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This was fun, I thought to myself. Within a week, I’d have Jacob convinced that I remembered my aeronauticalengineering courses from twenty years ago.
DAY SEVEN – COOKING Jacob took his own time waking-up. I didn’t want to wait long. So I stood on his stomach. Both of my fore-paws dug in. Standing over him, muzzle-to-muzzle, the morning-lick was getting more-and-more tempting, but I resisted. When Jacob was obviously awake, which occurred about two seconds after I stood on his stomach, I spoke my morning greeting, “How are you?” Jacob looked at me bleary-eyed, not comprehending what I said. Should I say “stick” and “log” again? No. “How are you?” No response from Jacob. He was most-definitely dense. 975 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But very cute. What next? I needed another word. I looked around. I pulled at the blankets with my paws. I spoke the word, “Blanket”. And then I repeated the word, “Blanket”. I pawed the wall, “Wall”. I repeated the word, “Wall”. And then I returned to pawing at the blanket, and I again-spoke, “Blanket”. Another spark in Jacob’s eye. But not-quite a full spark. Jacob thought I was issuing a request. He picked-up the blanket, and tossed it over me. Again, as if I were a pet-wolf. Depressed feeling… This would take time. By the time that I had pawed and stepped-forward enough to yank the blanket off my head and body – I hated the static feeling – Jacob had gotten up, and had already changed his clothing. He was once-again preparing to go outside … … and pick-up sticks. Boring.
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November 12, 2011 I didn’t want to pick-up sticks again. There weren’t enough “words” out there. When Jacob opened-up the door, his boots already on, he expected me to jumpdown out of bed, and follow him out the door. I didn’t. I stayed in bed. Standing in the open doorway, the cold coming in, Jacob asked me a question, and then motioned for me to go outside. I nodded (up-and-down) and spoke, “No.” Jacob spoke a different sentence, and motioned again. I once-again repeated, “No.” Jacob motioned once more. I waited, eyes twinkling. Jacob gave up. He closed the door from the outside. I heard his boots crunchingaway on the path. I waited in his bed for a quarter-of-an-hour to make sure that Jacob had gone. My quest for the day was to find books, to convince Jacob that I was intelligent. Jacob would have books somewhere in the cabin. He had to. I might be able to read the books, or at least learn a few words of his language, such as articles and prepositions. If that didn’t work, I could scatter the books around the room, open, implying that I could read. I had used the “scatter books around” technique many times to convince my sister that I had spent time studying. However… I was now hungry. Jacob didn’t feed me enough. 977 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Well, he fed me almost enough. But if he kept feeding me as little as he did, I would be on the slim side. Not starving. Just thin. I preferred to be a bit weightier, particularly with the snow. Breakfast! I needed breakfast. Jacob never bothered with breakfast, but I would. Wolf paws are absolutely lousy at opening drawers. One of Jacob’s drawers was a small pull-out refrigerator. I managed to pry-open the drawer with my fingernails. It had no front-mounted handle, instead relying on small finger-depressions on the sides of the two-centimeter-thick drawer-front. Wolf “hands” cannot rotate to the sides. I had to apply my fingernails to the top of the drawer, where there were no finger-depressions… and where the countertop overhung the two-centimeter-thick drawer-front to hide it. I noticeably scratched the top of the refrigerator-drawer in the process of opening it. Shit. Oh well. Inside was the tasty fresh-meat. Being raw, the meat would need cooking. I didn’t think I could manage pulling-out the meat strips, unwrapping one, opening the small convection-oven, and cooking the meat-strip. My manual dexterity wasn’t that good. It most-likely would never be that good while I was four-legged. The refrigerator drawer also held the remainder of a block processed-meat, and a wedge of distinctly-unpalatable slightly-off cheese. I could have grabbed the half-full bag of pork-rinds from the counter… but no, they weren’t to my liking. I wanted the block of meat-slices, wrapped in thick cellophane. I pawed-forward the block from the back of refrigerator-drawer. This task was itself challenging. 978 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I briefly considered picking-up the meat-block between both of my paws, but decided that I couldn’t. I was standing on my hind-legs, and already using my front-paws to hold me up. I grabbed the meat-slice block with my mouth, and set it on the ground. Oops. I forgot to close the refrigerator-drawer! I jumped back-up, and applied my weight to close it. My attention returned to the meat-slice block. I pulled-off (and tore-off) the cellophane with my fingernails. Then I impaled my fingernails through the topmost layers of the meat slices. A bit of lateral pull, and I separated them from the heard. The individual slices fell to the floor, next to the meat-slice block. I ate the three separated slices. Or at least tried to. Licking them off the floor didn’t work. My front-teeth couldn’t scrape them off the floor. I had to paw them into a loop, and then bite-grab the raised loop. I ate all three slices. More food? Yup. I pulled-off and ate another four slices. And then to show Jacob that I was intelligent, and that I had eaten, I did my best to rewrap the meat-block with its cellophane. That didn’t work well. 979 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Oh well. I picked-up the meat-slice block with my mouth, and set it on the kitchen-counter. The wolf-slobber would evaporate and/or sink-in; Jacob wouldn’t notice. A poorly-wrapped block of meat-slices would clue Jacob into the fact that I had opened the refrigerator-drawer, pulled-out the meat, and eaten some of it. Pet wolves couldn’t do all that! Breakfast finished, my next task was to explore Jacob’s dresser. It might contain some books to read. (I didn’t realize that Jacob had drawers underneath his bed.) The dresser was infinitely-more difficult to open than the refrigerator-drawer. The dresser drawers were much larger and heavier. They had front-mounted handles though. I couldn’t pull-open the drawers using their handles. My fingers weren’t slenderenough to fit in, nor were my fingers strong-enough to pull-out the heavy wooden drawers. I tried to pull-on the handles with my teeth. The combination of my pointy nose, my desire to not lose any teeth, and the weight of the drawer prevented me from opening the drawers that way. So I pawed-open the top drawer from above. Fifteen minutes later, and with noticeably-scratched woodwork, I opened-up the first of two drawers. Inside were Jacob’s flight uniforms, with his military medals on-top. I paused to think. What had Jacob experienced in the war? How horrible was it? Was that why Jacob only wanted to pick-up sticks? 980 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I would have to ask Jacob about the war someday. I never wanted to go to war. Pause. A moment of silence. What was my sister doing? Pause. Again, pause. I hoped she was okay. Pause, and return to Jacob. I was still curious about Jacob. Should I mess-up his neatly-folded clothes to see what was beneath? I did. I stood on my hind legs, and rummaged through the clothes in his top drawer with my paws. He had two flight-uniforms, with medals on top. And several sets of clothes. And some socks! Using a combination of my stick-dexterity paws, and my mouth, I took-out a pair of Jacob’s socks for myself. My hind-feet were always cold. With the top-drawer explored, and no books found – I had temporarily forgotten that I was looking for books – I pushed-closed the top-drawer with great difficulty. I couldn’t manage to close it all of the way. The right side, I manage to push in all the way, but the left was wedged-out a few centimeters, and wouldn’t budge. Now for the bottom drawer… 981 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The exceptional overhang of unclosed top-drawer made opening the bottom drawer all the more difficult. I couldn’t paw-open the bottom-draw from above. So I lay on my side and pawed. I left noticeable scratches on the sides of the drawer. After quarter of an hour, I abandoned opening the bottom drawer. I was tired. Oh well. I had a new toy to play with, though… I happily picked-up the sock-pair with my mouth, and hopped onto the bed. Wolfen socks have left-and-right red-fabric handles on the cuffs. Using a combination of my stumpy fingers, and my teeth, I managed to put-on one of the socks, half-way. And the other was only a token one-third on. Hmmm. I was feeling distinctly frustrated. No books. No bottom drawer. And I couldn’t properly put-on my socks. Damn. I nosed and pawed my way underneath Jacob’s comforter, and fell asleep.
When Jacob returned for lunch, he was amused by the socks on my feet. After closing the cabin door, Jacob walked straight to the bed, and sat-down on it, behind me. 982 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I turned-around to face him. He gently pushed me onto my stomach. What was he doing? Inquisitive-smile on my part. And he turned me over onto my back. Mmmm. This was interesting. Jacob readjusted his own position. One of his legs was folded on the bed, the other hanging off. With some effort – I was larger than Jacob – Jacob pulled my fore-body onto his lap. He reached over me, his chest uncomfortably pushing on my head and scrunching my neck up, and he pulled-up my socks. I had at-least won one victory today. I licked his muzzle in happiness and affection. I didn’t realize how wolf-like I was becoming. Jacob patted my stomach in response-affection. That felt good. My tail wagged. I didn’t even notice the embarrassment. I wished the moment would last forever. I would have to get Jacob to put my socks on more-often. Unfortunately, Jacob had to prepare lunch. He noticed the meat-slice block on the countertop, including the teeth-marks and poorly-wrapped cellophane. Jacob looked at me. 983 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was no ordinary wolf. I wolf-smiled at Jacob. Jacob said something to me with a smile in his voice. And then he pulled-off some meat-slices, and fed them to me in bed. Tail wag. He handed one meat-slice to my mouth at a time. All I had to do was lay upsidedown, and wait to be fed. After I had finished eating, Jacob pulled several slices off for himself. I didn’t notice, I was so happy. I was still lying upside down. Jacob pushed me over. He got into bed. And floated the blankets down upon us.
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November 12, 2011
DAY EIGHT – BOOKS? I woke-up Jacob with a quick nose-lick. “How are you?” I asked. This time, Jacob looked at me with a smile. By now, Jacob must have realized that I was fairly intelligent. I needed to push the issue. My quest for the day was to find and pull-out Jacob’s books. But my first priority was my socks! Jacob had taken-off my socks the previous night, before we went to bed. I crawled-out from underneath the blankets, accidentally giving Jacob a butt-shot as I turned around, and mouth-picked-up my socks from the end of the bed. I turned around again, and walked-up beside Jacob, who was still lying down. I dropped my socks onto Jacob’s chest. He understood. I winked, and turned myself onto my back, besides Jacob, waiting for him to sit-up and put the socks on my hind-feet. I was wolf-smiling all-the-while. Jacob sat-up, and put my socks on the hard-way. He non-deftly hauled me up against the corner-wall; his bed’s cabinet was built against the wall. Then Jacob leaned over me, and put my socks on, one at a time. 985 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For some reason, I loved the attention. I also realized that I was very NAKED. Normally, I’d be embarrassed by the scene. But I was now a wolf. And I had been naked for the entire week. Jacob slid out of bed. I stayed wedged in the corner, legs up, listening to what he was doing. The refrigerator-drawer opened. Wolf-smile. Jacob returned to bed, carrying a few meat-slices for me. He fed them into my mouth one at a time. Having paid enough attention to me, Jacob got out of bed. He put the meat-block back. While doing so, he spoke something to me, perhaps in a mocking-scolding tone. Jacob prepared-himself to go outside and pick-up sticks. I rolled-over to watch him dress, but Jacob had already changed his clothes by then. Jacob opened the door, and beckoned for me to go outside. I sat still and watched, declining. Realizing that I had decided to stay-in for the day, Jacob closed the door, and crunched down the path. I lay-about in bed for half an hour, making sure that Jacob was really gone. And, oh, did I enjoy the bed, especially the way Jacob’s odor combined with mine. It was glorious. Interesting. I realized that I had never thought-about residue fur-odor like that. After enjoying the scented ambiance of our bed, I hopped out of bed, to begin work on the bottom-drawer of the dresser. Inside I would find books. 986 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 If Jacob had a flat piece of steel around, I could have used it as a pry-bar to pry-open the bottom dresser-drawer. I didn’t see one. My only solution was to try lying-down sideways and scratching-open the bottomdrawer with my fingernails, as I had tried yesterday. That didn’t work. So I applied my front teeth to the upper-right corner of the dresser drawer-front. I succeeded after quarter-of-an-hour of scratching and grabbing at the drawer-front with my teeth. Unfortunately, inside were only shoes. Didn’t this guy have any books? I pushed the bottom-drawer closed so Jacob wouldn’t notice. It closed all of the way. The fingernail scratches, and the teeth marks, and the chewed-off corner, and the splinters of wood on the floor, might alert Jacob that I had looked through his possessions. Unfortunately, the mess couldn’t be helped by this point. It didn’t occur to me that I should push-aside the splinters of wood so Jacob wouldn’t see them. Depressed look. I had failed at my quest to find books. Now what? Back to being bored. No television. 987 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Not enough pillows. Jacob must still be picking-up sticks. What was I going to do? I didn’t want to stay inside. Could I get out of the house, by the way? I hadn’t tried yet. Again, I found myself unknowingly thinking like a wolf, quickly shifting my attention from one object-of-interest to another. The door had a latch handle. I stood up, and pulled the latch down. The door opened inwards. A bit of a nose-nudge, and I was out. I was free! Shit. It was only a door. Opening it wasn’t a major accomplishment. Why was I so excited? Now that I was free, I realized that I couldn’t close the door from the outside. There was no handle, only a circular key-well. Oh well. I left the door open. No-one would break in. On a very unlucky day, a chipmunk might wander in.
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November 12, 2011 I ran down the path to find my… boyfriend… husband… friend… roomie… companion… I had no abstract-name for the male Wolfen thing that had put my socks on. Crap, I had left my rear socks on! Oh well. Jacob could take them off when I found him.
That evening, when we had returned from my outdoor language-lessons – I had finally taught Jacob the words for “stick”, “log”, “tree”, and “sock” – Jacob wasn’t pleased to see his door wide open though. What did he expect? He saw me outside running up to him. Did he think I could close the door by myself? After a tasty meal of elk meat-slivers, we snuggled into bed and slept.
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DAY NINE – NEVER TAKE A WOLF SH OPPING “How are you?” I spoke as I pawed Jacob awake. I was standing on-top of Jacob’s chest. Chest-standing was a bit of a power-trip for me, particularly when I balanced each of my hind-feet on each of his outstretched legs… which I couldn’t do well, because my feet kept sliding-off his shins. I was on top. I was in charge this morning. I had a plan. As soon as Jacob was awake, I leapt off-of the bed, and headed for his dresser. I stood onto my hind legs, my forelegs resting on the top of the dresser. My tail wagged. Crap. Tail wags were embarrassing-enough when I was two-legged. Their arcs were twiceas-large now, and four-times as embarrassing. Oh well. I had more-important things to do. I verbally dragged Jacob’s sash-bag off-of the dresser, and dragged it to the base of his bed. I leapt onto the bed with it. And face-planted myself into his mattress! The bag had caught on something. I managed to not slide off the bed, but the sash-bag slid onto the floor. 990 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Jacob got the message though. He said something to indicate his understanding. I tried to repeat what he spoke. Jacob looked at me quizzically. He said something else. Oh well. That frustrated me. He didn’t realize that I was trying to learn his language. Within ten minutes, we were both out the door. I even got to see Jacob undress this morning, while he changed his clothes. At the beginning of the long-walk to the store, I was quite ebullient. I ran left-andright across the path so I could learn its boundaries. I was always in front of Jacob, though I sometimes fell-back to walk along-side him. But then I ran low on energy. And then Jacob spent half-an-hour moving a heavy log out of the way. No day way perfect. I play-helped him by tugging-on one of the fallen-tree’s branches. It tasted terrible, but it was a fun thing to do for about two minutes. When we finally got to the store, Jacob opened the door and let me in. The store wasn’t much, but it was wolf-accessible. I found a pillow, and mouth-dragged that into the middle of the room. Jacob and the cashier watched. The cashier spoke something to Jacob, who responded.
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November 12, 2011 I discovered a row of books on the bottom of a shelf, and pawed a few off. More than a few, actually. I unloaded one-third of the books that were on the shelf. Wolf’s paws aren’t very-good at angling-out thin books. I was looking for children’s books. Surprisingly, I found a few. With only teeth and stick-like paws, I found the children’s’ books to be difficult to pick-up. I eventually mouth-carried three of them, one at a time, to the pillow. Maybe we’d get a discount due to teeth-damage. I should have thought about a pen and paper, but the idea didn’t occur to me. I also forgot to look for a television. My shopping finished, I sat my butt down, and watch Jacob and the woman watch me. I wondered if he was going out with her. The thought didn’t bother me. Ten minutes later, Jacob had gotten some more meat-strips from the woman, as well as a few new tins of processed meat. Jacob walked back with a full satchel. It contained food, my books, a screwdriver, and more socks for me. I had to mouth-carry the pillow the whole trip back. All of my saliva was gone within an hour.
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Fast-forward to sunset… That night, before we went to bed, Jacob more-deftly propped me onto my back, against the corner. Two pillows were behind my head. I was still naked. He occupied the right side of the bed. He covered both of us up. And read to me a story about a tiny yellow tug-boat.
To be conTinued…
WOLFEN APPEARING IN PEOPLE’S DREAMS If you visit the “furry” forums and read through the anthropomorphic-animal dreams that people post, you’ll notice that half of the dreams include anthropomorphic Canines (wolves, dogs, foxes, and coyotes). Thirty-percent include anthropomorphic Cats. Ten-percent feature “lizards” or “dragons”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom)
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November 12, 2011 Hypothesize that:
1.
“Aliens” exist.
2.
Not all aliens are Greys or Saurians. Some might be Chimpanzee-evolved, or Lemur-evolved, or Simian. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grey_alien, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reptilians)
3.
Hypothesize races of intelligent Canines and Large-Cats.
Australopithecus-animals (our ancestors), Chimpanzee-animals, and Lemuranimals began with grasping hands, which would-have enabled tool-use, which would have encouraged intelligence-formation. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australopithecus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_evolution)
Other races could have been evolved and/or genetically-engineered from other mammals, such as canines (wolves) and large-cats. The species would NOT have begun their evolutionary-climb with the grasping hands necessary to produce tools, so tool-use couldn’t be used to encourage intelligenceformation. Instead, selective-breeding and genetic-engineering by alreadyexisting aliens could sufficiently increase the canine/cat intelligences to “person” levels. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uplift_Universe)
4.
Faster-than-light communications are possible using non-electromagnetic signals. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_radiation)
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November 12, 2011 5. A planet-wide and interplanetary internet already exists for nonelectromagnetic signals.
6.
Hypothesize that “video-capable” mobile-phones can be shrunk to incredibly small sizes, and implanted into the brains of Homo-Sapiens for purposes of monitoring them. The implants also support telepathiccommunication features.
7.
The mobile-phone alien-implants can be implanted invisibly and painlessly while people are sleeping. Small remote-controlled invisible-and-ethereal floating-bots can fly through three-dimensional walls, and install the telepathy-implants into our brains without invasive surgery.
Small remote-controlled invisible-and-ethereal floating-cameras also exist. They can automatically track someone’s location and head movements, and video-transmit the same scene that the person sees.
8.
People with mobile-phone alien-implants can see transmitted video-imagery while they dream.
One application of this technology is “dream sending”:
1.
An invisible-camera follows someone around on another planet, in another galaxy. Audio is recorded along with the video. Emotions and thoughts can also be recorded.
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November 12, 2011 2. The video, audio, emotions, and thoughts are real-time transmitted to Earth via a faster-than-light intergalactic-internet. 3.
Someone on Earth in REM-sleep receives the transmission through their mobile-phone telepathy-implants. They experience a dream, looking through the eyes of someone on another planet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rapid_eye_movement_sleep)
4.
The emotions and thoughts of the person on Earth are real-time transmitted back to the person on the other planet.
5.
The person on the other planet can decide to “listen-to” the thoughts of the dreaming-person from Earth.
Simplistically put, when you dream, implant-technology lets you experience a fewminutes of someone-else’s life, on another planet, in another galaxy. This explains prophetic dreams, or any dreams with meaning. They might be scripted-dreams “sent” (transmitted) to Homo-Sapiens by aliens who wish to warn us of possible futures. (By the way, prophetic dreams are speculations about the future. Prophecies are not destinies.) Implant-transmitted dreams also explain the UFO MILABs people, who have dreams about ultra-top-secret “American” UFO-projects. Those ultra-top-secret UFO-projects are actually occurring on other planets, not on Earth. (http://www.alienjigsaw.com/I%20Forgot/Book%20Page.html) Implant-transmitted dreams also explain the anthropomorphized-animals that appear in the dreams of “furries”. Search the furry-forums for posts about their dreams. (http://forums.furtopia.org, http://furnation.com, http://www.furstralia.com)
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November 12, 2011 Some more comments about “sent” dreams:
Some of your dreams will be more colorful, or have higher resolution, depending-upon what model of floating-camera films your dream-visuals. High-quality dream cameras are 45 frames-per-second , 8000 x 3200 pixels, and 8-chroma (not just red, green, and blue).
Intergalactic agreements, applying to Earth’s Homo-Sapiens, usually limit our dreams to only-include Hominids and terrestrial-looking animals. Consequently, many four-legged animals appearing in our dreams are “dream-acted” by intelligent four-legged animal-evolved people.
Real-time computer-modification of the transmitted dream-visuals can obscure non-Hominid faces so they look like Homo-Sapiens faces. Ape-evolved people, Simians, Alotians, and Nor have faces that can easily be automatically digitally-modified to look like Homo-Sapiens. I once had a dream that included a Saurian helicopter-pilot, whose face was computer-modified to look Hominid. Her modified-face ended-up looking like a flabby melted-wax Hominid face. Her real face was green, feathered in back, and dinosaur-head shaped.
By treaty, some people (many furries) are allowed to see non-Hominid races in their dreams.
If you are having a dream that includes anthropomorphic-animal races, remember to try and look at your hands during the dream. They might not be Hominid hands. Finger-locations might be wrong.
Many Canine-evolved people live in neighboring galaxies. Large populations of Cat-evolved people live ten-ish galaxies away. For purposes of good-will,
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November 12, 2011 both meta-races encourage individuals to participate in “dream acting”, letting Homo-Sapiens on Earth “peek through their eyes during their day-today lives.” Other nearby races, such as Greys, Saurians, Rabbit-evolved people, and Cthulhuoids, do not partake in the good-will dream-acting programs. They are less-frequently seen in people’s dreams.
FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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ZOOKEEPER by Mike Rozak Copyleft August 2011
This story is UNFINISHED. It is a work in progress.
BUGBUG – Image of Leopard-evolved woman. No spots BUGBUG – link to leopard
“MAKE YOURSELF SCARCE” I had graduated from a two-year college a few years ago. Regardless of my limited training as a medical tech, I only found employment in a department store, located in one of the massive underground shopping-malls in our city. The job wasn’t exactly stellar… no retail-store job is. But I wasn’t academically-oriented enough to go onto higher education. My mother came home one evening, with yet another “you had better get a good job” warning. I had the day off. I lazed around home, reading fashion magazines, a news magazine, and watching television coverage about the war with the Hominids.
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November 12, 2011 At that point, the Cat-evolved nations were not yet involved in the war. Watching war from the distance of a television, and from the distance of “it’s THEIR problem” is somewhat addictive. My mother entered our high-rise apartment. We lived on one of the lower floors. “Want some dinner?” “Sure,” I added. I could stand to get out. “The bistro downstairs?” “Yes. Definitely.” My mother didn’t even bother to take-off her coat. I grabbed some shoes, put them on, grabbed my purse, and both of us left the apartment. A few floors down, still above ground, we entered a high-quality “food-court”… which meant that it was an open arcade with small boutique sit-down restaurants hanging off it. We had eaten at a meat-lover’s pizza place last night… it used a high-protein flourlike bread, rather than flour. And something that wasn’t cheese. And not too-much sauce… cherry-sauce I think. With heaps of meat on top the pizza-dough. The bistro served various cuts of meat, all of them good. We were shown to a table by a waiter. Both my mother and I ordered. After the waiter left to lodge our orders, my mother broke into her pre-rehearsed dialogue. “I heard some scuttlebutt at work today.” 1000 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yeah?” I was a bit nervous already. “I can’t say.” My eyebrows raised in a “Then why did you tell me?” expression. “Changing subjects… Have you thought about your career yet?” “No mom,” I whined. “I’m still working at the department-store.” “What about attending university on a remote-planet? You could study physics?” “Not interested.” We had gone-through this discussion before. “Or you could be artificially-inseminated and raise children?” The waiter arrived with some breadsticks. I took the opportunity to not answer that question. I didn’t want to raise children. I knew that my mother didn’t want me to have children either. By this point, I had completely forgotten about my mother’s “scuttlebutt”, but everything was related. “Do you want to join the military? I could point you to a posting on an out-of-the-way planet?” I cringed at that thought. Infantry was thoroughly unappealing. “NO,” with capital letters. “How about an adventure work-study?” That was a new one. “What kind?” I asked with interest. “I don’t know. The almost all cost money. I will pay for up to five-thousand dollars of your adventure holiday, if it lasts is at least a year.” 1001 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
THE PAMPHLETS
Are you an outdoor fanatic? [No – my response] Would you like the taste the career of a park ranger? Or a species manager? For only $14,000, you can spend two years travelling-through and exploring a DOZEN wilderness planets. Spend your time with other interested students, and expert guides. You will be instructed and guided by one new expert a week. Call +435 34583 595837 4756353556 if you’re interested.
Remote-mechanic work-study Spend six months on a remote planet, learning to be a dieselengine mechanic… [This is where I tore the pamphlet in half.]
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Light-military work-study Not interested in the military? [Yes – my answer] Are your parents edging you towards military service? [Yes, again – my response] How about a sampling of military careers duties? This half-year to one-year work-study program includes:
A few weeks of infantry training. Camping Hiking Motorbike riding Hand-gliding (BUGBUG – sp) Jet-skiing Motor-bike riding Tank driving A course in computer hacking Time on a military-spaceplane simulator And a training flight in a jet-fighter!
Are you an outdoor fanatic? [No – my response] 1003 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Are you interested in becoming a medical-technician without being pulled into the military? [Yes, maybe – my answer] How-about training as a wild-animal veterinarian? [Wild animals. I’ve seen them on television – my answer] Spend half a year to a year travelling to up-to eight different planets. On each planet, you will learn new medical-technician skills directed at veterinary employment.
Spend time at a large world-class zoo. Work at a private veterinary-clinic. Work at a genetics-analysis laboratory. Camp-out with the animals in the wild. Attend veterinary-university for a few months to get a taste of academics.
Call +435 36783 8252356 5489437621 now!
THE JOURNEY It took me nearly a month of travel to reach the zoo-planet I first had to get a shuttle from my provincial planet to a major metropolitan planet And then onto an armored civilian transport heading “south”. The trade-rout was known-harassed by the Hominid militaries. 1004 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Third-class accommodation Didn’t expect much because wasn’t paying much Very small stateroom, with a roommate. My roommate seemed to change every night. I was never certain why. The food was high-protein bread sandwiches with preserved meats. Made a stop-over in Civet territory. Civets are extremely wealthy I disembarked in their airport lobby With shopping I couldn’t afford anything… which was mostly food anyway. I ate a kind-of hamburger, costing me three times as much as an expensive hamburger would have cost me at home. Then back on the third-class spaceplane. Some rat-evolved people had boarded. Head further south into Hominid territory No video displays in my room But a common video display showing our location. They showed attack locations along the routes, where the Hominids had attacked. In second and third class, they were confined to their rooms because their rooms had airlock doors. In third class, we did not.
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November 12, 2011 So might as well wander around. If we were depressurized, we’d all die anyway… and jokingly… we’d be fed for dinner for the next week. A few days later, got off at the next stop Rat-evolved small-city Waited around for half a day for my next flight. Food was inexpensive, but Rat-evolved people there were vegetarian. Carrots and lettuce on a “gooey” (still cooked) bread-roll don’t cut it. I had diarrhea for a few days after that. My next transport was another triangle. It was filled with a “zoo” of animal-people. All-different races. Giraffe-evolved, antelope-evolved, no deer/elk, several different races of catevolved, zebra-evolved, donkey-evolved, and a few lizard-races. It was a long-flight. Full day, which meant tried to sleep twice in the seats. Wasn’t easy. Didn’t show a map. Showed a video of flowers. Any other video was either a story, which only ten percent of the people could understand the language, or wildlife/nature videos – which invariably offended someone. That flight stopped at a small output city 1006 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Everyone disembarked Three Cheetahs-evolved women met me as I got out. They weren’t too-excited to see that I wasn’t a cheetah. They rushed me to their spaceplane flight. They were waiting. It was a small cube, about twenty-meters to a side. They were in such a hurry, and I was so “out of it”, that I forgot to pick up my luggage from the flight One month of flying, and I arrived at my new work-study job without ANY luggage.
THE CUBE FLIGHT The cube was sitting on the bitumen tarmac. It was, as its name implied, cube-shaped. It looked like a giant cube, twenty-meters to a side The sides looked like aluminum. They looked like very-flimsy aluminum. I could see ripples and bends in the sides. As well as some rivet seems As well as some patches. We entered the cube through a small zipper door at the base. The “aluminum” was VERY thin. 1007 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Once inside, one of the Cheetahs zipped up the door. Another one turned on a flashlight. We had to bend underneath some scaffolding, and walk towards the center bottom of the cube. There we found a spiral staircase up. And entered the cube control-room. A small toilet room was in one corner. Monitors and chairs were scattered about. I sat in a chair. The three cheetah women, and a fourth Lion-evolved woman manned the controls. We talked during the flight. I was asked what I was going to do. I had no clue. I just paid for the work-study. It seemed like it would be good work experience. “From your dress/clothing, we think you’ll find that it’s an eye-opener.” We landed a few hours later. We had to wait inside the cube half an hour for it to cool off. When we were getting up to leave, everyone picked up their bags from the corner. “Didn’t you bring any bags?” one of the Cheetahs asked me. “Yes. They were checked in. Oops. You mean I had to pick them up?” “Fuck. We’re not going back for them. We’ll loan you something.”
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November 12, 2011 My anxiety levels danced-up.
ARRIVAL – ZOOKEEPERS ARE VERY WEIRD I was the fourth person out of the unzipped cube. Since I had no bags, someone gave be a box of canned-meat to carry. I was dusk when we landed. The “zoo community” was small. I could see half a dozen bungalows, some facility buildings, a cafeteria, and a presentation stage. After noticing how small the community was, and how rustic everything was. A naked Cheetah woman crossed my path. She was VERY pregnant. And VERY naked. Neither of which were acceptable in my culture. The Lion-evolved woman led me to one of the facilities buildings. She must have sensed my discomfort about the nudity. She had been wearing a shirt and spandex leotards. While she walked, and I followed with the box of cans, she stripped-off her shirt, exposing her breasts. They were a bit “wild” here. The Lion-evolved woman, who then introduced herself as Meg, pointed to a stack of can-boxes. “Put that there.” While I set-down and straightened my box, Meg pulled-off her leotards. “We tend to go mostly naked here. It’s a zookeeper thing. You’ll get used to it.” Meg next led me around the buildings to my bungalow. It was unlocked… very rustic. 1009 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Inside was a bed, television, dresser, and a toilet-and-shower in a separate room. The bed was a double. One the dresser was a key and keychain. Meg grabbed it and handed the key to me. “You can stay here for an hour, or you can follow me around.” I decided to follow Meg around. We made several-more trips into the cube. I had to carry-out a few more boxes. And then we got a dolly to help us move supplies. Meanwhile, everyone was mulling about. An open-top four-wheel-drive pulled up with some orange camouflage-wearing Cheetahs. The naked pregnant Cheetah-woman continued to wander around and distract my attention. Perhaps the work-study with the Lemurs would have been more to my liking. Meg led me into the food-block. There were tins of food. And a walk-in refrigerator. And lots and lots of vegitables. A clothed Cheetah-woman was chopping up some food. “Fern [my name], this is Wilma.” 1010 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Hello.” “A new one, eh?” said Wilma. That didn’t bode well. “Don’t worry. You’ll get along just fine.” Meg stood and talked to Wilma about zookeeper stuff for ten minutes. And then, “Oops. It’s time for dinner. Come on.”
MY FIRST DINNER THER E Meg and Wilma walked out of the food-block. I followed. A crowd was gathering by the stage. Where some tables were set-up in front. A buffet was arrange. Plates were at the start of the line. I filled mine with some meat reminiscent of taco-meat, without the taco bits. And a bit of sour-cream. There were a lot of vegetables, all of which I decided that I wanted to believe they should be inedible to me. For drink we had lime drink, or muddy water. The lime drink tasted better. I sat down at a table with Meg and Wilma. A topless Cheetah-woman sat down with us. She had an infant four-legged Cheetah in a slash. While we ate, I caught somewhat-rude glimpses of the topless-Cheetah-woman. That infant couldn’t have been hers. 1011 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It must have been from a wild four-legged Cheetah, which were on the planet. Zookeepers did hand-raise animals, after all. Meanwhile, something cold brushed up against my food. “Whoo” I exclaimed. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s just Fred the Goanna.” Fred the Goanna was a meter-and-a-half-long lizard. Meg got up, got some meat from the dinner buffet on a plate, and deposited the meat in front of Fred. “He stops by every night for some food.” I watched Fred eat, peaking underneath the tablecloth. That wasn’t something you saw every day. And then I noticed some wild four-legged Cheetahs hanging-outside of the picnic area. They were mostly in darkness, the majority of the light flooding the picnic area. Something creepy came to my mind. Some of them were ex-zookeepers. Meg said, “Just stay away from them for now. They’re a bit scary at times.” I stayed at the table and didn’t approach. One of the four-legged wild cheetahs approached and was fed by a tiger-evolved woman. A plate with meat was left on the ground. The tiger-evolved woman stood well back.
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November 12, 2011 The four-legged cheetahs were easy twice our weight. After the first four-legged cheetah had eaten, she left. A second-one showed up. Throughout the night, the showed up one-at-a-time for food. It was creepy. Why didn’t they put ten plates out all at once? I never got around to asking that question. The reason was, that if ten plates were put-out for the ten cheetah-animals that showed, then within two weeks, twenty cheetah-animals would show up for free food. And then it would be thirty. And then someone would be eaten.
YOU’LL BE DOING PAPE RWORK I found my way to my bungalow without being eaten by any one-hundred-and-fifty kilogram wild Cheetahs. And fell asleep almost instantly. I awoke mid-morning. Crap. People were mulling about outside. No-one had bothered to wake me up. It was embarrassing not to be on time to work my first day. But then again, this seemed like a relaxed place. They wouldn’t ding me much. 1013 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I recalled right-away that I had left my luggage on the airport luggage return several galaxies back. I checked in the bathroom for toothpaste, but couldn’t find any. I’d have to borrow someone else’s. Nor did I have any clothes to change into. I’d be going naked-and-wild before long. I did manage a shower though. Someone had left some body-wash in the shower. It was Cheetah-scented body-wash. Male-scented, I think. Having taken a shower, I walked outside. The campus, all ten bungalows and facilities buildings, was busy. People were walking around. Half the Cheetahs were topless. But no-one was naked. I spotted one the large wild Cheetahs hovering about outside the camp. I needed to find my workplace. An open four-wheel drive drove past. I decided to look in the kitchen, where I was with Meg yesterday. I had forgotten the other woman’s name. Inside was a young Cheetah-woman. I said hello and asked her where I was supposed to work today. She looked-up from her vegetable-slicing and stared blankly at me. 1014 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I asked again. Just then, a Leopard-woman entered. The Cheetah-slicer pointed to her. I said thank you, and approached the Leopard-woman. She understood me. “I don’t have time now. Just go ask in the office.” “Thank you.” I had no clue where the office was, but there weren’t too-many buildings to look through. The Leopard-woman began talking to the Cheetah-slicer in pidgin-Cheetah as I walked out of the kitchen. The next official building I came to was empty. It contained an operating theatre. Nope. Not that one. I found a smaller building, where Meg was working, along with several Cheetah women. “Is this the office?” I asked towards Meg, since I knew her. One of the Cheetah-woman, topless, looked at me and said, “Yes”. I noticed the naked pregnant Cheetah working in the backroom filing papers. “My name is Fern. I am a new work-study volunteer.”
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November 12, 2011 “Oh yes,” said the Cheetah woman. “How did you enjoy your flight?” “Long. It took me about a month to get here.” “Fuck. What are the Hominid pirates like?” I hadn’t heard anyone use the term pirates. “They showed their locations as dots on the map as we flew down.” Cheetah-laugh/snort. “I am Amy. I run the office. You’ll be working here. Lelsie is about to have a child any day now, so you’ll have to take on her role.” Lilly was the very-naked very-pregnant Cheetah. Despite here “hippie” appearance, she was quite a nice woman. I learned later-on in the day, that she was giving birth to a wild four-legged Cheetah cub. This was her third birth. Since the Cheetah-cub animals had to be induced, or they would get way-way-too-large, one of her children had died. She would raise the children as her own… kind of. They were never very intelligent, as expected. Very caring. And then they’d be released into the camp. And then gradually shoed-off into the wild. It took about four years to get rid of them. Not as bad as people, who only left home after fifteen or twenty years. My job was simple filing work. There were computers. 1016 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But they always failed. So a LOT of information was also kept on paper. That paper was stored in filing cabinets in the offices. And in people’s bungalows. And then flown back home. Most of the records were zookeeper’s notes about what had happened during the day… “mostly unimportant until you found that they were missing and you needed to reference them.” And then there was studbook information, kept on twenty-centimeter blue-cards, in a card-box. These were observations about individual wild-Cheetahs, who they seemed to be breeding with, and who their children were. The first few days were spent learning how to read and alphabetize the Cheetah alphabet. And to pick up some words of Cheetah. Over half the staff were Cheetah-evolved. We closed-up shop for lunch. All four of us went to the local “restaurant”… which was basically an open building with a countertop. No-one manned it. Someone might at some point, if there were enough people in camp. Several-dozen plastic-wrapped sandwiches were sitting on the countertop ready for us to take. 1017 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As well as a large cooler-tub of lemon-drink. I took a sandwich that Amy assured me that she thought it was roast-beef. It wasn’t it was ham. Still, it wasn’t bad. Nice and rustic. We ate our sandwiches sitting on the edge of the theater floor. Shoeing away very-large bumble-flies that didn’t do much of anything except drown themselves in our lemon-flavored drink. The sun set soon after lunch. I hadn’t realized that our days would be so short. The planet must have had half days, or two-thirds days. After lunch, Amy helped me scrounge up some old zookeepers clothes, toothpaste, and towels. Those I deposited in my bungalow… it was pitch-black by then. I experienced a bit more paperwork. People came-and-went from the office. They were all very friendly. They all told me their names. I forgot them, unfortunately. Dinner came about sunrise. We had something that looked like leg of mutton. It was very tasty.
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November 12, 2011 And risotto – which wasn’t bad. And there were plenty of vegetables, which I ignored. Amy and two other Cheetah woman invited me to dinner. They had me sit closer to the center tonight. They were EXTREMELY wary of the wild Cheetahs. Fred the Goanna showed up to a more-distant table. By the time we had finished eating, the sun was just rising. And the wild Cheetahs showed up. They were even more-enormous today than I remembered them from yesterday. Tomorrow-night was Karaoke night, Amy informed me, during the night’s conversation. It was quite entertaining. All of us were tired. We didn’t say much. I was extremely tired. Amy showed me to my bungalow, and showed me how to set my alarm clock. She mentioned that I should get a different bottle of body-wash. Male Cheetah-scent might send the wrong impression, particularly to the large wild-cheetahs.
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November 12, 2011
KARAOKE NIGHT My alarm went-off the next morning… which was actually the beginning of the night. I had heard about such planets, where a “day” one one-and-a-half revolutions of the planet. I had never been on one before. A tiger-evolved woman was working in the office that day, alone with me. Despite all of grumpy-Tiger cliché-character from the “Cats! Cats! Cats!” children’s television show that I had watched for endless hours, Jessie was actually quite talkative. “Cheetahs don’t talk much…” she commented. Which wasn’t true. The Cheetah-people at the village didn’t need to learn our language as much as we did theirs, so the “cats” found it difficult to talk with the Cheetahs, and vice versa. Jessie had flown in from “down south”. She was here permanently because she much-preferred the zookeeper lifestyle to that of an urban Tiger. And yes, I did ask Jessie if she had ever seen “Cats! Cats! Cats!”. No, she had not. Several other people had asked her the exact same question. In “Cats! Cats! Cats!” there were four costume-wearing cat-evolved people. One was a bubbly “Tabby cat”. The other was a timid “Lion”. The third was “Pan” the BlackPanther… who was actually blue-colored. Pan was always causing mischief. And the fourth was the recalcitrant and grumpy “Tiger”. The show appealed to pre-teens. They were on every day for half an hour. They would enact small plays. Solve problems. Read the time. Meet walk-on characters, and sometimes have zoo animals on. They also had videos, of which I owned many. And music, which I had some. There were no stuffed animals-versions of them; that would be seen as rude in our culture. 1020 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And they did live tours, where they got up on stage and actually performed the show for a few hours. My home-planet was too-minor for them to appear there, but I did see the advertisement on television. I begged my mother to take me, but she said that travelling three planets over was too-much bother for one show. Anyway, that morning it didn’t really matter. I actually met “Tiger”! But she was Jessie… just a girl-hood dream. Jessie explained to me the basic operations of the village. The office staff collated paper, and typed the hand-written text into the computer. I would eventually graduate to computer work. For now, all I had to do was file the formwork. The kitchen staff cut-up food to be taken out “on safari” to augment the wildanimal’s diets. Since some of the wild animals were former zookeepers who “went bush”, we were also doing a service to them. “Going bush” was seen as a retirement package for zookeepers. The other retirement packaged were to die and be merged with someone who liked being around people. Or to get a job as a wildlife presenter. Or to get bored of zoo-keeping and “go city”. Most people in the village cut-out for the day in four-wheel drives to visit the different herds of antelopes, as well as the prides of cheetahs. There, they would feed the herds and prides a bit of food to attract them. And they would take notes. And they would euthanize sick or injured animals. Meanwhile, one or two people were stuck cooking for the village. Lilly, the pregnantnaked Cheetah, was on cooking duty for the day. I had to spend all morning (the dark part) asking Jessie where to file paperwork. She was happy to tell me how and where papers were filed. We skipped-out for lunch, just at sunrise. 1021 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We met Lilly and a small antelope-evolved woman in the kitchen. They had already prepared a salad and some cold-meat to put-out at “the restaurant”. We helped them carry everything out, and then ate. Lilly was quiet. The antelope-evolved woman was even quieter. Jessie didn’t say much either. So neither did I. Fred the Goanna meandered by. We have him meat. Lilly tried to feed him some green salad, which he gently snapped from her hand, but which he didn’t eat. Meanwhile, the bumble-flies buzzed around. I was rather enjoying myself. “Thank you for the meal,” we said. Jessie and I helped take some dirty-dishes back to the kitchen, and then returned to our office. The Antelope-evolved woman was named Zan. She tried to work in the office at first, but unfortunately, she didn’t have the hands to pick-up and file papers. Nor did they keyboards work for her. Zan had also tried going “on safari” to monitor and feed the wild animals, but the wild four-legged Cheetahs kept stalking her. She was also VERY wary about walking to her bungalow after dinner, when the four-legged Cheetahs were still around. About sunset, Jessie sent me home to shower. She found me some female-scented Cougar body-wash, which was more my scent. It wouldn’t send the wrong message for the four-legged Cheetahs. 1022 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 As soon as I had showered, I was to return to the dinner tables. On the way to shower, I was already being watched by one four-legged Cheetah. Three were standing by my door when I walked out. They didn’t attack me. They did glare and angry-meow at me. Then they followed me to the dinner tables, stopping just outside. Meg, the Lion-evolved woman, was sitting at a table. She noticed. “That’s an odd omen. They like you.” I didn’t think anything about that comment until much later… other than “omens” were a bit anachronistic. Zan delivered the last of the food to the food-buffet. People who had been mulling around began queuing for the food. A few people got up. Two tables away from us was the stage, elevated from the grassy ground by about a meter. On top of it walked Lilly, CLOTHED! She had found a maternity-dress to wear. In her hand was a microphone. The sun had just set. She spoke into the microphone. Out came a low-pitched silky-smooth voice speaking in Cheetah. Lilly didn’t have such a voice. I had heard her speak. To your ears, her speech would sound like wild-Cheetah meows with some formant variations, rhythm, and exhaling. That’s exactly what her voice sounded like to me. The microphone and amplifier system had a “vocalizer” built in that lowered her voice two octaves. 1023 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She spoke a few paragraphs that I didn’t understand. The other Cheetah-people, and some of the other staff must have understood. They thumped their silverware on their plates in acknowledgement. And then rotating and ebbing colored disco-lights danced around the stage, highlighting Lilly. Encircling her automatically. Dancing up-and-down her body. And automatically adjusting themselves to the music. The “disco dancing” package, which included invisible disco-lights and a very-good microphone-amplifier-speaker system must have cost $50,000… kind of pricy for a small village of Cheetahs… but then again, the night’s entertainment was VERY Cheetah. Meg got me up in line while the first act came on. One Cheetah-woman was dressed in a black top-hat, black tux-jacket, and white bikini-bottom. She began to dance, while singing using the vocalizer. She was amazingly good. The music was techno-pop crossed with big-band. Her singing style was melodic words, vaguely resembling Frank Sinatra’s music… except she sung only a few words at a time, with long pauses for dance moves. (BUGBUG – techno-pop, big-band, frank Sinatra) Un-thanks to the darkness and the disco-lights, I accidentally took some vegetables with my serving barbeque ribs. Barbeque ribs were also a Cheetah thing. The four-legged wild Cheetahs STAYED AWAY though. The music scared them off. They were hovering near my bungalow when I returned-home later.
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November 12, 2011 The night’s entertainment continued with a pair of Cheetah-women dressed in blackvinyl bikinis. They “danced” a hip-hop/rap dance, to blaringly-loud techno-pop music, with disco lights flying everywhere. During the intermission I got up for seconds, and noticed that deserts were being served. I must have missed them the previous nights. I sat down and asked Meg if that was everything. “No. There’s still some more. People must be taking a breather.” A Cheetah woman who now sat at the table added, “We are looking for volunteers for next week. Are you interested?” I didn’t answer. I merely looked frightened at the thought. I was MUCH more reserved than the Cheetahs. A few minutes later, the top-hat woman returned with her two-octave lower vocalizer. This time, she sung what sounded-like a love ballad. The disco-lights were toned down to an underwater light-ripple. The music was prerecorded synthesized strings, bongo drums, and bass drum. It was very touching. With that, we all clanked the performing artists and helped cleaned up. I returned to my room and fell fast-asleep.
BODY WRAPPING
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November 12, 2011 A few days later, I was pulled out of office work to help at the surgery. The medical expert working there was a Cougar-evolved woman, Selene. I arrived to see Selene and Zan, the Antelope-evolved woman, positioning a dead four-legged Cheetah body on a stainless-steel table in the center of the surgery. Attached to the ceiling was what looked like a large surgery-light on an arm. Selene maneuvered it around to different locations on the dead four-legged Cheetah’s body, and pressed a button. Nothing appeared to happen when the button was pressed. I was going to ask, “What happened?” but as a novice zookeeper, I thought that my ignorance would show through too-much. Zan led me into a storage room where she pulled out a long roll of clear plastic. “We need to wrap her up,” said Selene. She wasn’t happy. Zan unrolled the plastic, separating it into two sheets. All three of us worked together to slide one layer of plastic underneath the dead four-legged Cheetah. Selene positioned the four-legged Cheetah’s legs and head so they were entirely ontop the plastic. The four-legged Cheetah was laying on her side. And then she laid the second sheet of plastic over the body of the four-legged Cheetah. Selene had a tool like a clothes-iron that melted the two pieces of plastic together at the edges. Before she finished sealing the four-legged Cheetah up entirely, she inserted a special vacuum-nozzle insert. That was glued into place. Selene inserted a small vacuum-machine into the nozzle-insert, and sucked the air out of the bag.
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November 12, 2011 The bag was sealed, and air-tight. Selene did another run with the surgical-light arm hung from the ceiling. I didn’t know what she was doing at the time. The “surgical light” was actually an “XRay”-emitter used to disinfect and destroy bacteria colonies in the four-legged Cheetah’s body. With the colonies killed-down, the body would last for weeks in cool-storage. She (the four legged Cheetah) had to be transported back to a planet near my home on the next cube-spaceplane out of the village. Once the four-legged cheetah was disinfected, Selene punched some holes into the sealed-together edge of the wrapping, and melted in some grommets. We wheeled the four-legged Cheetah into the cold storage room, attached to the surgery. There, the three of us committed all of our strength to picking-up her body and suspending the body-wrapper from some specialized hooks mounted in the ceiling. A dead four-legged Gerenuk-body was also hanging in the room. Gerenuks are antelopes. (BUGBUG – Gerenuk)
SAFARI – GERENUK A week later, Selene had arranged for me and two Cheetah woman to travel out bush on a “safari”. It would be a four-wheel drive excursion to look at and survey some of the animals, as well as a picnic lunch by a stream. Selene drove the open-air four-wheel drive from an elevated seat up front. Next to her sat a Cheetah-woman. She may have been the top-hat vocalist from the party, but I wasn’t certain. I sat in back with a younger Cheetah-woman. 1027 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The trip was loud and bouncy. And being an open vehicle, we were pelted with large insects. On the trip, I thought to myself that I should have brought my camera. I had NEVER been out in the wilderness. Sadly, I had left my camera at home… which didn’t matter much, because it would have been lost with luggage, anyway. We didn’t leave until “mid day”… don’t forget, the daylight hours were very short. After an hour and a half of bumpy four-wheel driving through a dry grassy-plain, we reached a slow-flowing stream surrounded by needle-trees. On the ride there, I saw four-legged Cheetahs in the distance. They slunk away as the vehicle neared. I also saw four-legged Gerenuk. And perhaps a giant goanna – five meters long. They run up to forty kilometers per hour, for a short distance. They can take down a Gerenuk or four-legged Cheetah. And they were VERY intelligent. They were also VERY dangerous, so no-one tried to teach them how to speak. Nor did they feed them, like they did Fred the midgetGoanna that lived around camp. No-one told me that the giant goannas spent their evenings by the stream. When we reached the stream, we all jumped out of the four-wheel drive and sat down on some logs. The top-hat Cheetah, Neelah, pulled the food and water out of the back of the fourwheel drive. She handed us our food, and then proceeded to drive the conversation. The conversation began with innocuous stuff, like how nice the day was. She spoke my language with a strong accent, not Cheetah. Selene wasn’t a talkative person. 1028 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Neither was the younger Cheetah-woman who sat next to me on the four-wheel drive trek. Neelah turned the conversation in my direction. To me, it felt like an interrogation. I wasn’t used to being the center of the conversation. “Fern, so why are you here?” interrogated Neelah in a thick clipped accent. “Uh. I came for the work-study.” No-one else chimed in to divert the conversation. “So do you like our village?”asked Neelah, sweeping her hand over the wilderness landscape. “Yes,” I answered uncomfortably. Selene offered the other Cheetah-woman a bottle of water. “Do you get paid much to work here?” “Uh, no. I had to… my mother had to pay for me to come here.” “So are you enjoying it?” “Yeah, quite a lot.” “What do you think about the animals?” “Amazing. I have never seen them [animals] before.” Selene chimed in, warning that the giant goannas might be arriving at some point. We would have to leave before then. “How long are you here for?” Neelah returned to questioning me. “A quarter of a year here, then a quarter of a year at a zoo, and then some time at a veterinary lab.” 1029 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “That sound like an interesting work study.” Selene chimed in. “We had better get moving. I’m worried about the goannas.” The sun would be setting soon. I hadn’t yet finished my sandwich. We all hopped into the four-wheel drive. Selene drove-us away from the creek as the sun set. She drove off the track, about three kilometers and then parked. By that time it was dark, and she was driving by headlights. I felt completely disoriented, and scared. The night was terrifying, although nothing happened. Selene, Neelah, and the younger Cheetah-woman all took control of spotlights. Selene talked to me, ignoring the other two experienced safari-people. “Keep an eye out for [giant] goannas.” “Seriously,” Selene added. “VERY seriously,” she continued. And then, “If you see one, poke me on the shoulder. We will have to start the fourwheel drive, and take-off.” To make matters worse, “Do NOT fall out of the four-wheel drive.” And then she double-added a “Seriously.” The night only lasted a few hours.
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November 12, 2011 Despite having eaten, no-one was at-all eager to hop-out of the four-wheel drive to urinate. … Which made the night last even longer. We spotted at least two giant goannas on separate occasions. Selene started the four-wheel drive and took-off on each time, driving speedily through the meter-tall grass, headlights on. The second time, she drove into a gully. That scared me. It frightened the others even more. If we got bogged in the gully, we would be torn-apart by the giant goannas. In-between driving, while watching for giant-goannas with terrified eyes, we same some wild four-legged Gerenuk. They seemed to approach our vehicle because of the lights, and then decide to graze. Which attracted the goannas. As the sun rose, we calmed down. Giant-goannas were EVERYWHERE. They merely couldn’t be seen at night by our spotlights, or they stayed away from our spotlights. I could see a giant-goanna every few-hundred meters to a side. In-between were Gerenuk, avoiding the goannas if they got too close. Neelah handed me a clipboard with paper, and told me to tick-down head-counts of Gerenuk, as well as write down numbers and errata. I took notes for three hours, about four pages. Neelah would drive the four-wheel drive around from spot to spot, stopping then engine when we were counting. 1031 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The goannas didn’t seem to be as keen to bother us during the day. Neelah pointed to individual Gerenuk that she new. “That one is Jenny’s daughter.” “Over there is the granddaughter of Fissy’s daughter.” “That there. She’s Esmeralda. She died three years ago. [She was a zookeeper here.]” We returned to the village after sunset. We had missed dinner. After taking a shower, I went to bed without food.
HOMINID TELEVISION After work, I would watch television for an hour. I had a laser-tube television in my room, with rabbit-ears antenna. The village had a satellite receiver the rebroadcast a television signal over radiowaves for our televisions. We only received Hominid television. Which was fine with me. I didn’t understand the language. And the video was almost always scratchy, with a lot of noise. That was because of the encryption that the Hominids used. The audio came in clearly. They showed a LOT of soap-operas, with Hominid men and woman in oak-paneled mansions. I tried to understand what the plot was, and the character motivations. 1032 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The television was interesting. I had never seen Hominids on television before, except for occasional news-clips as they met with Cat-evolved leaders. As far as I could tell, every Hominid man had a “relationship” with two Hominid woman. The sexy Hominid men had three women. The single geeky Hominid man only had one girlfriend, and they were monogamous. The women were almost as non-monogamous. I had learned in school that Hominids were monogamous, so the television soapopera was enlightening. In my culture, there were no men. The woman had killed them all off several hundred generations ago. We got the Hominid television because we weren’t that far away from a large Hominid collection of nations, larger than “The Group”, which was near our Catevolved nations. They were only a triangle-spaceplane flight away. We also got half an hour of news broadcasts. They news was almost-exclusively war coverage. It was actually filmed and delivered from a larger-collection of Hominid nations much further “to the east”. The news showed Agimadae-evolved fighter-jets strafing Hominid cities. (BUGBUG – adimadae) An occasional bomb hitting the Hominid cities. Hominid women, men, and children in anguish, with bomb-damage gashes in the foreheads. Soldiers with casts on for broken legs. From space, retaliation attacks against the Agimadae planets, and other enemies of the Hominids. 1033 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They were VERY-large nukes. One scene was of the dark side of a planet. And then there was a pinprick flash of the bomb, and a cherry-red pool of “energy” spread-out from the flash several-hundred kilometers. No prisoners of war were shown. The war was begun when the Hominids, Alotians, and one Simian-nation invaded a section to Agimadae-space as ten-times as large as our taurosphere. And then the business news would come on. And I would fall asleep.
MORE BODIES Over the next few weeks, my workdays were divided between office-paperwork… I had not yet graduated to typing on the computer… and… I’ll talk about that later. Meg left the village to work someplace safer. She was worried about the nearby Hominids. They were threatening invasion of the area. Which is where the sad part of the story begins. Everyone expected the Hominids to take-over our planet. They MIGHT, if they were feeling nice, give us warning before they landed in our village and arrested us as prisoners of war. 1034 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They would almost-certainly shoot all of the wild animals. Hominids HATED any animals larger than a small dog. They hated small housecats even. We had evacuation orders for the department of zoology. Cubes were landing daily to ferry away “genetic samples”. That was a SAD euphemism that we used for dead four-legged Cheetahs… fourlegged Cheetahs that we had shot. Every day, people took the four-wheel drives out and shot their beloved Cheetahs, some of whom were former zookeepers, or children of zookeepers. It was more human that we shot them, than the Hominids. And we needed to preserve the “genetic material”. Over the last fifty thousand years, the Hominids had been slowly eradicating the Cheetah-evolved people by killing them in war and with toxins. And they would finish-off the Cheetah-evolved people by killing-off ALL of the wild four-legged Cheetah-animals, so that no Cheetahevolved people could EVER exist in the future. People in the four-wheel drives would return home with two or thee four-legged Cheetah bodies on the back. I would help other people haul them into one of the two surgery rooms. We would “wrap them up”, as we already described. EVERYONE was very sad. Many of the four-legged Cheetahs had names. Or they were children of four-legged Cheetahs with names. And many were artificially-fertilized children of Cheetah-women who had worked at the village. 1035 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The women were informed of the deaths of their children.
FOUR-LEGGED CHEETAH SHOOTING A few weeks after my Gerenuk safari, I was taken out to depressinglyeuphemistically, “collect genetic material”. A different Cougar-evolved woman drove that safari. Her name was Shasta. I sat in back. A medical-technician Cheetah-woman also sat in back with me. And in front, with a rifle, was a Cheetah-woman. Only Cheetah-evolved people were allowed to shoot the four-legged Cheetahs. To them, they were people, although not bright. And they were ancestors, and should be respected because of that. The act of shooting had very-strong religious/philosophical undertones. (BUGBUG – “Sacred”?) There was a “moment of silence” and most-likely a prayer before the gun was aimed and fired. The Cheetah-people were deadly serious about the event. Normally they were care-free, sarcastic, and fun-loving. (BUGBUG – fun-loving not correct) Their seriousness at the deaths of their ancestors, relatives, and former co-workers was frightening. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand the significance of the act of shooting. I was merely out for a ride… I didn’t know they were actually going to shoot the fourlegged Cheetahs. 1036 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And when the Cheetah-marksman shot the Cheetah, I didn’t think to think of the moral, philosophical, and religious significance. We left the village at dawn, driving for half an hour down a track. And then we veered-off onto a little-used barely-there track. That was slow going. There were no giant-goannas in this direction. They were a competitor to the fourlegged Cheetahs. We drove off the road towards some rock mounds, where the four-legged Cheetahs spent the nights. The giant goannas couldn’t climb on-top the rocks to get to the four-legged Cheetahs, particularly the young. And the four-legged Cheetahs enjoyed “the stage”… standing up high and watching the plains. They also hunted Gerenuk, but more-often they went after large secretary birds. (BUGBUG – secretary birds) Shasta stopped the four-wheel drive. The Cheetah-marksman would stand on top the hot font-hood, hot from the engine heat. She would look around to see where the four-legged Cheetahs were. Rifle held pointup in one hand, the butt resting on the front-hood. The first time we stopped, the Cheetah-marksman saw a few four-legged Cheetahs in the distance. She pointed. We remained quiet while we watched. 1037 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At that point, I thought that she was going to shoot Gerenuk. I was clueless. Not able to visually identify the four-legged Cheetahs, the woman pulled out an identification-gun, and checked the Cheetah’s identities. “No, not these,” she said. The engine was started before the Cheetah-marksman was in her seat. We drove another fifteen minutes to another rock-stand. Shasta halted the engine, and the Cheetah-marksman stood up again. Already uncomfortable with her job, atypically, she swore “Fuck”, when she stepped onto the very-hot font-hood. The next time, she stood on a towel. This time though, she looked-around and spotted a Gerenuk… or so I thought. She pulled-up her rifle. Aimed. Hissed. Aimed again. Waited. And fired. It was a VERY-expensive rifle that made no “bang”… more of a pop. “Okay. I got her,” said the Cheetah-marksman as she sat down. Shasta started-up the engine and drive quickly to the location, scaring-off any curious four-legged Cheetahs.
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November 12, 2011 When she got to the approximately location of the shot four-legged Cheetah, mostlikely dead, she slowed-right down so she wouldn’t run-over her. We found her in a clearing. Lying dead. The Cheetah-marksman was first out of the four-wheel drive. Next was the medical technician, carrying a blue-and-orange box. I followed along with Shasta, would had to shut-off the vehicles engine. The four-legged Cheetah was dead. The medical-technician was holding the “soul box” behind the dead four-legged Cheetah’s neck. “The planet already took her soul.” The Cheetah-marksman was NOT pleased at this. The answered with a curt, “Okay. Let’s take her body. May her soul rest.” The medical-technician requested that I get a tarp from the back of the four-wheel drive. I did so. We slid the tarp underneath the body of the four-legged Cheetah, and then picked her up, one person to a corner. She was very heavy. We hauled her body to the back pickup-tray of the four-wheel drive, and set it down. We covered her body. And then everyone jumped back in the vehicle. I didn’t reflect on the shooting until we were driving away. 1039 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I thought we were hunting Gerenuk. I knew the four-legged Cheetahs had been shot. I didn’t put-it together in my mind that we would be shooting four-legged Cheetahs. The moral and religious significance didn’t impact me either. All three other woman were significantly down-beaten by the act. Shasta drove back onto the main road, and down another track. I thought we were heading back to the village, until we stopped in an open grassy area without any rock-mounds. The Cheetah-marksman called for a halt this time. Shasta shut-off the engine. The Cheetah-marksman set a towel on the hot front-hood and stood on it. She spotted something in the distance. I couldn’t see. “She wants to be shot, I think.” After checking with her identification-gun, the Cheetah-marksman pulled-up her rifle. The aimed. I could just make-out a four-legged Cheetah standing PERFECTLY still, looking at us. Fire. The four-legged Cheetah collapsed to the ground. Shasta restarted the engine, and we took-off towards the four-legged Cheetah, in a rush to get her soul. She was dead.
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November 12, 2011 A couple of four-legged Cheetahs watched us from fifty meters away. The Cheetah-marksman jumped out of the four-wheel drive, grabbing the “soul box” before the medical-tech could take-control of it. By the time I reached the body of the four-legged Cheetah, the Cheetah-woman already had it against the dead four-legged Cheetah’s neck. “Go her!” said an elated Cheetah-woman. She pressed a large and very-hard-to-press button on the box, which was against the back of the dead four-legged Cheetah. A red-orange LED light was illuminated on the box. The soul-box emitted a quiet snap followed by a buzz. Five minutes later, the box still held in place, the LED light turned lime-green. The Cheetah-marksman pulled back the box, looked at it, and thought. The medical-technician went back to the four-wheel drive to get another tarp. Shasta prepared the four-legged body for pickup. Meanwhile, the Cheetah-marksman read the operating instructions on the soul-box. She held it up behind her neck. “Shit! Don’t do that!” yelled-out the medical technician. “Too late,” quipped the Cheetah-marksman. She had already pressed the “Release” button on the soul-box. What happened next was UN-REAL. The Cheetah-marksman staggered backwards as if she had been hit. The medical-technician ran to her in a panic. 1041 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shasta and I had no clue what was going on. The Cheetah-marksman dropped to her knees, the medical-technician bending down to help her. “Wait,” said the Cheetah-marksman. “I’m alright.” “Let me stand up.” She stood-up. Her eyes stared-wide and incredulous at the dead body of the four-legged Cheetah. “Is that me?” said the Cheetah-marksman. “What am I doing there?” She looked around wildly. Saw the two four-legged Cheetahs in the distance. And then looked at her body. Her mouth was agape in astonishment. She stared at the medical-tech and accused, “You shot me!” while pointing at the body of the four-legged Cheetah. The medical-tech was horrified. “Wait. Just a minute,” said the Cheetah-marksman. And then she added, “What? How am I talking?” The Cheetah-marksman put down the gun. “Who is in control of my body?” demanded the Cheetah-marksman. She look wildly about. 1042 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Where the fuck am I?” she asked herself. “We are both in the same body,” she informed herself. “Put me back in my body,” said Cheetah-woman as she pointed defiantly at the dead four-legged Cheetah. The medical-tech stood-back, as if the Cheetah-marksman were about to detonate. “I can’t do that. We had to shoot you,” answered the Cheetah-marksman to herself. She looked uncontrollably down at the rifle. “With that?” the monologue-dialogue continued. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” “What do I do now?” she said looking at her old four-legged body. “We learn to live together in my body.” “Will I get meat?” “Yeah.” “Okay.” Pause. “I don’t want the ants to get my body, like they got my mother’s.” The medical-technician dared to speak, “We will take your body back with us.” “She doesn’t understand. Just wait,” answered the Cheetah-marksman. “Okay. Now she understood.” Shasta had already placed the blue-tarp underneath the body of the four-legged Cheetah. We all lifted her body up.
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November 12, 2011 The Cheetah-marksman was COMPLETELY useless. She couldn’t properly grasp the tarp, nor could stop staring at her old foot, which was dangling next to her end of the tarp. On the ride home, the Cheetah-marksman was distinctly “odd”. She kept trying to stand-up while we were driving. Shasta had to slow down and tell her to sit down. The medical-technician, standing behind, looked for a seatbelt but couldn’t find one. We didn’t have any rope to tie-up the Cheetah-marksman either. Meanwhile, the Cheetah-marksman was staring-about wildly. When we got to the village, she was PETRIFIED. Shasta and the Cheetah medical-tech led the Cheetah-marksman to her bungalow. She was given half a week off. By the end of that time, she was acting more-normally. Though by that point, she was two people merged together.
THE VILLAGE EMPTIES I didn’t notice it until after the Four-legged Cheetah shooting trip I took, but the village was emptying out. Cubes were landing and taking-off every few days. People came and went. Meg had already left. 1044 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Lilly must have left because I hadn’t seen her. Jessie was soon to leave. It wasn’t long before I was packing up the office and loading boxes of keeper-notes cards onto cubes. And then I began wondering when I was going to leave. Would they forget and leave me here? There was only one karaoke night after the first one that I experienced. Eventually, no-one made lunch for us. We just ate the pickings from the previous nights dinner. And then no-one cut-up copious amounts of vegetables for the dinner meal. And then only a handful of us ate dinner. Perhaps five. So we mostly ate refrigerated caribou that we heated-up in the microwave oven. For work, I was doing everything necessary. I attended a few four-legged Cheetah shootings. We ignored the Gerenuk. It was too-dangerous to visit them without any backup from the other four-wheel drive. The goannas were very dangerous there… and the second and third four-wheel drives had broken down. They weren’t going to get repaired. I helped “wrap” more dead four-legged Cheetah-bodies. And then we stopped refrigerating them in the cool-room off the surgery. We carried them directly onto a cube in the center of the village. The cube was refrigerated.
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November 12, 2011 At least fifty dead four-legged Cheetah bodies hung in the cube’s “warehouse” section. The cube was 30-meters to a side. Internally was a 10-meter sub-cube living quarters and cockpit. The warehouse sections were on the sides of the cube. We loaded all of our paperwork out of the base of the cube. The office was empty. The medical-buildings were emptied. We looted the last of the karaoke hardware. That was the most-important element of the village for the Cheetahs.
“SURE, I KNOW HOW TO FLY A CUBE” The cube was nearly filled with dead-Cheetah bodies. There were only five of us left. There were three Cheetah-women, a Cougar-evolved woman, and me. It felt like working late at a department store, and being the last people to turn the lights out. One evening, without warning, one of the Cheetah-evolved woman said, “Let’s go. Everyone in.” I didn’t understand what she meant, at first. And then the Cougar-evolved woman translated for me. 1046 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I went to pack-up my gear… all of the zoo uniforms that I had “borrowed” since my luggage had been left behind. “No. Don’t go back to your room. We’re leaving now.” We had just finished dinner. Everyone climbed through the bottom-door of the cube. This one was large enough that it wasn’t just zippered. Once we were all inside, everyone counted the number of people there, just to make sure we weren’t leaving anyone. We all counted to five, including ourselves. One Cheetah-woman latched-up the door from the inside. We all climbed up the narrow staircase and into the cockpit. “Does anyone know how to fly?” asked one Cheetah jokingly. That concerned me. “Don’t worry. I’ve flown these before,” answered another when she saw my worried expression. “Fern, you sit in that chair.” I sat. “See that computer-monitor,” she said pointed at the display. I took a look at it. It was filled with sonar-looking images. “You get to look out for enemies. Okay?” “Huh?”
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November 12, 2011 “If there is an enemy chasing us, you will see them on this monitor.” I knew she was serious. But I was completely inadequate for the job. “Shouldn’t someone else be doing this?” “Don’t worry.” And then she added, “But, if we all die, we’ll blame you. ” I didn’t know it, but everyone was looking at the “sonar” monitors, but with different information than I had. I examined the screen to ask an interesting question, so I could at least learn. “What does that patch mean?” “That’s the village.” That registered. “What is that colored patch way over there.” “Hmm. I’ll check on that. I don’t know right now.” “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” “When do we actually leave?” The Cheetah-woman looked-at me with an eye-swipe and a tongue-roll. “Leave? We already left.” “We had to distract you. The Hominids seem to have filled you with spy implants. We don’t have any way to remove them from you at the moment. Sorry about the secret.” “Wait… Wait… What do you mean?” 1048 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Everything you have been doing over the last month while you were here has been monitored by the spy implants. The Hominids must have installed them in you while you were flying here, or perhaps at home. Sorry. We couldn’t tell you.” “How do I get them out? Am I dangerous?” “No. You’re not dangerous now. Don’t worry. When we get home, we’ll pull them out.” I was amazed. “Uh, thank you.” “So, just watch this monitor intently. ” We flew all-day until we were exhausted. The cube’s lights were dimmed during flight. We ate in the dim-lights of the cube so that anyone scanning our cube might think we were unmanned. I slept down-below, with a few other people. After two-thirds of a sleep, I was woken-up, and directed back into my chair. We did another shift flying. I occasionally saw fuzzy drawn-spots on the monitor. I asked what they were. “Nothing. Don’t worry.” We didn’t talk. We thought as little as possible in case someone were reading our minds. We had even less to eat after the second shift. I was directed to take another rest after eating. 1049 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The Cheetah-women were going to impregnate me with a lion-embryo while I slept… maybe.
Unfortunately, we never made it home. So I never discovered that I had been impregnated. Some Hominids shot-us down while I slept.
AFTERWARDS Lilly gave birth to a bouncing baby four-legged Cheetah on her flight back home. The resident in-flight-doctor was shocked by the biological differences between Lilly and her child
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FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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A TRAVELER’S GUIDE TO THE ASHTARI EMPIRE: INVIROTH Mike Rozak Copyleft 1989 –2010
Draft 1, 1990 Draft 2, 16 August 2010 Draft 3, 22 August 2010
Draft 4, 30 August 2010 Draft 5, 8 September 2010
I have only made a single proofing pass through this book, the first time in 17 years. If you’re picky about grammar, you should try back in a few months.
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EXCERPT: THE FERAZI Excerpt from: A Traveler’s Guide to the Ashtari Empire. Volume III, West of the Rift. By Derek Halfstar. Published in the year 1026 of the Ashtari Empire.
The Ferazi
The Ferazi are the most unwholesome creatures that I have ever had the opportunity to meet, and believe me, I am not reiterating the rumors which fly around, nor creating imagined tales about these creatures. I have had face-to-face contact with their race on several occasions and have never gotten any method of favorable response. And, as the good reader will know, I am disciple of the undistorted and unadulterated truth, and that I have dedicated my life's work to searching out and proclaiming her. In these pages, I am recording only what I have seen, heard, touched, and tasted through my own senses, which over the years have been masters of the truth, for it is not the senses which lie but the mind controlling them. Despite my impartiality to the events and peoples of the world, I find it extremely difficult not to pass judgment on such loathsome creatures as the Ferazi, and would quickly condemn them if it were not for the oath I took before beginning my sojourns, that I would report only the un-colored truth and not impose any of my own partisan feelings upon it. But since I am so harshly deploring the Ferazi race, let me describe my first encounter with Ferazi, one which was typical of all subsequent meetings, to the kind reader so that he may proclaim his own judgment irrespective of mine. I must admit that the prospect of my first conversation with a group of Ferazi was very exciting to me, and that I had all of the highest hopes.
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November 12, 2011 It was in the west that I first chanced upon a band of Ferazi, while I was travelling on the Great Plains and heading up towards the Great Salt Sea, an amazingly beautiful sight for eyes inexperienced to large distances. The sea isn't technically a sea, but more of a salty lake, or it could even be termed a large salty pond, for the rivers flowed into it but no river escaped. Words are strange, for I would name it a sea by its salt, a lake by its size, and a pond because it has not drainage. The Great Salt Sea is interesting beyond its anomalous naming because of its extreme salinity. As the chief sages tell me, the water is so viscous that anything will easily float upon its surface, even gold. Whenever a strong storm riles up the waters and some unlucky merchant ship, crossing the turmoil, is rent asunder, all of its contents, crates, barrels, crewmen, food, and riches merely float upon the saline water in a large island of miscellany until the currents deposit them on shore. Some wrecks have washed upon shore that disappeared more than a hundred years before. Tales even tell of fish which do not swim under the water, but which flop on top of it, like the small water-skimmer bugs that one seas running atop pond water. The Great Salt Sea region contains many other fascinating truths, but I will cover them later on in this volume, because right now, I must re-converge with the subject of this chapter, the Ferazi. As I have stated before, I was travelling north on a road which had recently been used to carry troops to and from the battle-front, named Reaper's Way, or some other morbid soldier’s moniker. Every soldier that travelled up this now-empty route had experienced ferocious Ferazi beyond every turn, as well as the dark recesses which skulked just beyond the illuminations of their campfires. Likewise, I, along with the several companions and like-minded explorers that travelled with me, were considering the same topic – although I was eagerly awaiting and searching for an encounter. I must say that not all of my companions were so excited by the prospect. They had explicitly detailed that they were very willing to let me take the lead, and proffer as their spokesman with any roving bands of the Ferazi beasts, while they remained a comfortable distance behind me – ten or twenty meters. 1054 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Rather than let the good reader think that I am blood-thirsty, or even begin to imagine that I had plans to combat the Ferazi after the good Emperor had declared an end to the war, I must explain my eagerness. I am a man of exploration and research, and being such, have every fiber of my body devoted to discovering new worlds, artifacts, and creatures. I undertook to uncover more of their personality and motivations. Does anyone know why, for example, the Ferazi began their raid on our cities in the first place? Or, a soldier might ask, why do they rip the skin off the noble Human soldier whom they kill? What god do they attribute war to? What is their pantheon like? How does the philosophy of their sages, if they indeed have any, differ from our own? What is their knowledge of science and mathematics? How do they live? What are the marvels in their own kingdoms? How close do they come to our own architectural, scientific, and political accomplishments? All these questions and more, did I have waiting and ready to ask them. Unfortunately, I was sorely disappointed when I finally did come upon a Ferazi specimen, for their reaction was totally illogical. It is not that I had any outrageously-grand preconceived notion, and that the beasts would be misclothed erudites, but I had expected a minimum of decency and intelligence, neither of which they had. In fact, I have often been derided for being too willing to converse with even the most menial of creatures, and then finish up the dialog by admitting that I had learned much from the supposed simpletons. The Remozsh are a good example. Everyone, from the common man to the most well-read scholar had told me from my earliest years that Remozsh were a worthless and pointless race whose sole ambitions in life were to eat and breed. Having no moral qualms about the Remozsh's supposed life-long goals, and keeping a very open and accepting mind, I decided to approach a band of Remozsh and the garbage-can fire they huddled around. After making introductions and selecting a seat, I was able to enter into an intellectually-stimulating conversation with them. Albeit, most of the verbiage was focused on the pleasures of the Remozsh's two favorite cuisines, but not everything was. Some of them were quite intelligent, not nearly so stupid, obnoxious, or lazy as 1055 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the reputation which had preceded them. Many of them, although a bit short and furry, even had the stuff of adventuring dormant in their bones, and gladly accepted my offer to alight from their current employ, which was none, and travel with me. They did well, and if the last one had not been eaten by a wolf several weeks previous, I would have had a Remozsh among my party when we encountered the Ferazi. Part of the motivation behind a dialog with Ferazi was to convince one or two to band with my party, but my hopes were dashed only a few minutes after meeting members of the race. My trusty companion, Jerry Bulregard, first spotted the Ferazi group on the horizon of the planes, several small white dots, each placed above larger black dots. He had at first surmised that they were men, but his hopes were dashed when I looked through my magnifying scope, which I had discovered in the underground, as the reader will recall from Volume I. It is a curious device: A long wooden tube with two concave pieces of circular glass. Looking through one end causes everything seen through the tube to be enlarged and inverted, and although seeing the sky and the earth swap places is disconcerting, the ability to see as though one were one tenth the distance is well worth the earthly dishevelment. My scope is the only eye-piece which magnifies that I know of, and no sage I've ever shown it too has seen its kind. I once had a glass-smith attempt to duplicate the device for me, in case my present one broke, but his creation, even though it looked fancier and more impressive, failed to magnify as well. What it did enlarge, was done unevenly so that some regions of vision through his copy looked like the reflections of a warped mirror. I still like the original better, and use it in preference to the copy. But I digress again. The magnifying scope clearly showed me five larger white dots riding horses varying between chestnut, black, and a dappled gray. I later learned that most Ferazi have white fur over their entire body, though they aren't albinos because their eyes are colored. Although no one has ever proven this, those Ferazi with non-white fur are rare and are considered noble by the Ferazi culture. I myself have never seen any Ferazi with colored fur, but one... who was a light gray. His demeanor did seem to 1056 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 label him a commander. If humans had hair which reflected their social cast, then many a noble would save a fortune on his pricy clothing. As is common conduct during war, or when approaching a potentially hostile enemy, we erected a white flag to demonstrate our good intentions, and to clearly state that we were not looking for battle. Even though the Emperor had signed a truce with the Ferazi kingdoms a few years prior, we were not willing to chance a friendly approach being misjudged has a charge. With the flag of truce erected, the Ferazi wouldn't be inclined to immediately attack us. My band and I rode towards the group of five Ferazi, and while we were still some distance away, were spotted. Rather than reciprocating the approach, the Ferazi reigned in place to await our arrival, and stood their ground for the twenty minutes we required to ride up to their stubborn stand. The beasts stayed mounted, their weapons drawn, three wrist-swords and two crossbows. We were relieved to see that neither of the archers had yet taken our aim. I was not prepared for the sight before me. All of the descriptions of Ferazi which I had gleaned out of old-time soldiers were only approximations to the real creatures. “They 'z a demonic cross between a man 'n a rab't,” was one soldier's quote, which raced through my mind, and the word “demonic” reverberated about my soul. In all of my imaginings of the beasts, based upon the descriptions by soldiers I had conversed with, I had heard “cross between a man and a rabbit,” and assumed the Ferazi to be some sort of furry Human with a rabbit's head, long feet, and a cotton tail. Somehow, perhaps purposefully, my mind never translated the negative descriptors, such as “demonic” into imagination. No one's description had ever really emphasized that negative characteristic enough, even though soldiers crutched upon to the word continually. Now, I have reached a difficult situation in my authoring; I do not wish to impose the true image and personality of a Ferazi upon the unscathed reader's mind, especially the kind and gentle women who are avid readers of my adventures. However, I have sworn to detail the intricacies of my journeys. The demeanor of the five beasts standing before me at this point in the tale is necessarily described. I only hope, 1057 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 ironically, that my writing abilities will fail to accurately portray the beasts before me. If perchance these descriptions become too horrifying, I will forgive my reader if he, or she, skips forward a page or two. Now for my description:
Ferazi are just slightly shorter than a man when standing upon the balls of their heels, and a head taller when on "tip-toe", which is their normal walking posture. They are, as I have stated previously, a demonic cross between humans and rabbits, or perhaps hares, for those wishing to distinguish the rabbit's faster and leaner cousins. Being partially human, they have two legs, a torso, two arms, and a head. A normal rabbit sports equivalent limbs, but in different portions, which the reader is well 1058 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 familiar with. These Ferazi creatures though, being demonic, look like a rabbit grown and stretched out to imperfectly fit to the human mould, an unnatural form for an animal. Rather than attempt to impose the Ferazi's entire form upon the reader's imagination at once though, I will step through part by part, starting with the head. The Ferazi's head is closest to a jack-rabbit's, thin and pointed, with a flat nose, eyes on opposite sides of the head, and shorter-than-expected ears attached to read of the head. But unlike a rabbit's, the ears are shorter, pointier, and wider at the base. From re-reading my words, I can imagine the reader questioning the ferocity of such a beast, since for the most part, what I have portrayed is a jack-rabbit's head atop a human body. In order to prevent the reader from leaving with such a misconception, let me modify this head. I ask the reader to recall any animal he's seen with rabies, or which is almost starved to death, and to apply the animal's look to the imagined Ferazi's head. Its cheeks are sunken, fur matted, and miscolored, and its eyes speak of desperation. They are black, sinister, and have a glazed stare which continually focuses on emptiness, as though they see another world, unimaginable to us. I realize that even these words have failed to capture the true unnaturalness of the head, but I can summon no others. Failing, perhaps subconsciously, to portray the head completely, I will now attempt the rest of the body. Below the beast's head is its arms, fairly human-like except for the white fur and the creature's claws, which are contorted hands containing an shortened palm, and stubby fingers without thumb. All five digits are pointed in a straight dull-black claw. Many of the creatures’ claws looked like they were meticulously sharpened to a slicing edge, prepared for some vile murder. Happily, only the fur on the Ferazi's head, arms, and legs was exposed, their chest bearing a lengthy shirt of iron chainmail, partially covered by a roughly woven tunic. Their armoring technology is ages behind our own, their mail being of large crudely made links. Our top troops even wear steel breast-plates, something I have never seen on a Ferazi. Likewise, their weaving skills are inferior. I will touch on this somewhat later. 1059 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I was most surprised though to see one of the Ferazi wear chainmail on his bare skin without any padding beneath. Several years back, I had tried this on a dare, and would call it one of my more stupid experiments, almost as inane as licking frozen iron, (which I also did) for the chainmail is so cold that it puts one to shivering within seconds, as the metal cools off the body quicker than water. I considered it impressive that the Ferazi wore chainmail on his bare skin until later one of the members of my group pointed out that he had fur to temper the coldness. As an experiment I later tried wearing chainmail over a fur coat and found it quite comfortable. Natural fur would be very advantageous to every warrior. Removing the chainmail, however, pulled the coat off along with it... so maybe the ferocious Ferazi warrior couldn’t afford a shirt. The sternum on a Ferazi bulges out much more than is usual for a human, making the beast seem barrel chested, the chest being much deeper and less wide than would seem proper. I didn't get any better view of their chest because of their armor and tunic above it. The tunic was odd because, while our soldiers wear the best quality fabrics with brightly needle-worked insignias, the Ferazi's imitation was a tabard of colored muslin, which had all of the appearance of being a grain-sack that had been sitting in the muddy field too long, turned into a wardrobe. Of the five tunics on the Ferazi, two were brown, one black, and two a faded blue. Some of the shirts had embroidered patterns resembling different animals such as birds, lions, and wolves, all running around in circles about the Ferazi's loins. About the waists of each of the Ferazi were belts made of either leather or rope, upon which were hung assorted knives and pouches of unknown contents. I eventually gained enough curiosity to inquire about the pouches' contents but was rudely denied. My description now brings the reader's eyes to the final portion of the Ferazi, their legs and feet, which were also inhuman. Where humans have a leg made of two equal-length bones connected to an ankle, and then a foot, these beasts had a very muscular leg with a shortened thigh-bone, no ankle to speak of, and an elongated foot twice as long as any human's, which appeared to be more of an extension of the leg than a foot, similar to an animal's. Two of their toes were tipped with thick, straight talons, their other toes apparently missing. 1060 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Although these five Ferazi never dismounted, I saw several later which were standing on their feet. They would stand on their double-length foot, their head being slightly lower than a man's, but when they had to walk, they would then rear up and walk as if tip-toeing. I have never seen a Ferazi wear shoes, but I suppose that their craftsmen are unable to make such long and flexible soles. All five of the Ferazi rode horses, not quite as large as those used by our knights, but, I am sorry to say, much finer specimens. Unlike their owners, the horses’ coats were pristine, glossy and well brushed, chestnut and dappled-gray stallions with heads fiercely erect. The Ferazi rode angled-forwards with thick saddles, behind them their lengthy tail lay, not at all like a rabbit’s. They didn't employ any bits, but had a simple leather harness tied around the horse's nose, as well as some machinery around their mounts’ withers. By the time I had finished examining and cataloguing all of the features of the Ferazi so that I could accurately explain them to the reader, the five had ridden near enough to hold a dialogue. I, being the leader of my group, and also the only one near enough to speak with the Ferazi, exuded my most gracious and kind hello. Rather than returning the kindness, all five looked at one another as if confused. Perhaps none of them had ever been greeted so courteously before, or perhaps they didn't understand my words. Using more common and banal words, I asked if any of them understood my language. Again, they pretended as if they didn't understand my meaning, even though my speech was perfectly sysinct. Using my vast experiences with encounters of other strange creatures, I pulled out a parcel of food from my pack and offered it up to the Ferazi. It contained a sliver of cheese preserved by a wax covering, a now-stale roll, and a slice of beef-jerky. I dismounted and slowly walked to a mid-point between my horse and the Ferazi, where I deposited the gift, and then backed up to my original position. One of the Ferazi spurred his horse forward, cautiously dismounted near the food parcel, picked it up, remounted, and then backed his horse up until he had returned to his group's semicircle.
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November 12, 2011 Another Ferazi, the one wearing the black tunic, accepted the package from the scout, opened it slightly, sniffed inside, and as if in disgust, or perhaps in anger, cast it to the ground without having the decency to taste any of it. Frankly, I was shocked at this reaction, since beasts are always eager to eat food, especially quality human food. Having seen my first offer discarded without evincing any friendly or even amicable reaction from the Ferazi, I felt it necessary to offer a more substantial gift, one especially prized by war-like societies, as the Ferazi’s. I very slowly loosened my favorite dagger, and so as not to spread alarm, held it by the scabbard as I approached the half-way mark. Let me note that I was severely loath to remit such a prize because it was a beautiful work of art, freshly come from Edgart only a year before. The blade was of stupendous quality, extracted from the ore in one of the more famous mines in the Ranson Mountains, and the hilt was carved oak. Although my fingers were sad to part, I left the blade as a peace gift so that my knowledge, and the noble reader's curiosity, might be expanded by a conversation with the Ferazi. After I had stepped away from the spot where the blade rested, the same scout rode forward, dismounted, grabbed the booty, and returned with it to his leader. This time, the black-shirted one appeared satisfied with the offer as he examined it, though no smile, nor nod of appreciation escaped. He rode forward. In a rather hoarse, almost whispering voice, he said, “T’ah naiff I.” The quality of his voice shocked me, for I had never head tale of it, most likely because the generations-old war had only recently ended, and very few, if any, soldiers ever conversed with their enemy. After talking with several more Ferazi after this encounter, I have concluded that they all have similarly harsh voices. They put the sentence’s verb first, followed by the subject, and any supporting clauses. I suspect that this artefact is a carryover from their own language, but none of the scholars to whom I've spoken knew the Ferazi language, nor did they ever hear of any non-Ferazi understanding more than a handful of their words. When I have since encountered Ferazi, especially on less volatile terms than my current 1062 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 adventure, I requested that they teach me at least part of the tongue, but all severely rebuked my request. The black-shirted Ferazi approached. Assuming that he was the commander of the other four, I spoke only to him. Rather than taking up the conversation, he merely stared at me with an unbelievably frigid gaze reminiscent of a raven's. As he did not aid in the conversation's progress, I jumped in and fulfilled my part. Ignoring any further introductions, even those of my comrades who had so gallantly volunteered me to be their spokesman 20 meters in front, I proceeded to query questions that were no idle chat. Their answers I was deeply curious of. My first question attempted to discover the black-shirted Ferazi's name. He merely stared coolly at me, rather than volunteer even a word, even after I had pointed to myself and said, “Me Derek Halfstar,” and prompted him by pointing towards him and asking, “And you?” Having heard of some cultures who gave no names, I suspected that this was his case, and brought up another question, even though years I later learned that names were spoken openly. I asked him where he lived. To this he looked west for a brief moment, and then returned his gaze east, past me. After receiving some modest encouragement, I continued my verbal exploration and asked him what his home was like, but received no answer. Not giving up yet, I continued to ask him more. What was his family like? What did he think of Humans? Did he have any noteworthy adventures in battle fields? How was the Ferazi military organized? What did Ferazi society think of valour? He gave essentially no reply to any of these questions, even though I'm certain that he understood their meaning perfectly. It seemed to me that the commander was reserving the right not to answer any questions which offended him, which is customary in conversation. But, every question I asked, no matter how innocent, was somehow considered indecent so much as to warrant a silent response. I asked many other questions, none of which he'd answer with more than a hand wave. He seemed to mock me in the process, 1063 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 even after I had benefacted him two gifts, one of which he had flung away without even any form of gratitude. Since the Ferazi commander was being so close-mouthed, I took it upon myself to describe a brief synopsis of my own history and philosophies. In the course of the biography, I described to him Inviroth, the city which nurtured and raised me, and verbally illustrated the coastal cliff upon which sat the magnificent castle that watched the great city, which lay to the south. Digressing from my history, I went on to tell the Ferazi of the wonderful people of Inviroth who always had time to say hello to a neighbour, but never let their friendliness drag them into slothfulness. Eventually, I came around to describing my adventures in the underground, up north in the Ranson Mountains and Willin Forest, about the battle with trolls and the search for dragons to slay. From there, I informed him of my current trip north to investigate the Great Salt Sea and the barbarian city of Golgoth. His expression and countenance did not change, even with my entertaining anecdotes and descriptions of lands far and wide. Puzzled even further by the Ferazi's behavior, and wondering if perhaps he didn't understand what I was eruditing, I decided to use my map as an aid, hoping that if I were to point out a city or place he would recognize it by its position on the map. I carefully reached into my pack, pulled out a map of The West, covering the regions from the great plains to the Dead Swamps, and unrolled it in front of his eyes. The commander was enthralled by the display and used his finger-claw as a pointer which darted around the map, following his attention. Once his claw had slowed its travels, I began to point out some of the places which I had previously mentioned in my verbal biography, and where we were headed, the Great Salt Sea. Seeing that I had actually broken, or at least cracked, his granite exterior of aloofness, I asked him where his home was, but rather than seeing his finger-claw dart to the western-most edge of the map where the Ferazi kingdoms are, it travelled south from its current position above the Great Salt Sea, down through the Fafar forest, veered east through the Pass of the Teeth, and landed right on Inviroth.
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November 12, 2011 Of course, he couldn't live in Inviroth, since no Ferazi had been there for several thousand years, excepting the occasional Ferazi ambassador. This meant that the Ferazi had understood some of my words, but had severely misinterpreted others, since I had never had seen nor heard of him nor any of his kind in Inviroth, and such a sight would be well remembered. I told him so, insisting that he must be mistaken, and that his home must be someplace on the left side of the map, where the Ferazi kingdoms were, and that I didn't know his home's specific location, and that's why I was asking. Once again I inquired where his home was, but rather than pointing to any section of the map, he rudely glared at me, eyes intense, even more so than before. Once again, he pointed at Inviroth, this time his sharpened claw impaling right through the parchment upon which Inviroth stood. I must have been slightly perturbed at that moment, for I vehemently stated that he was wrong, and had somehow misunderstood the map, not to mention puncturing it. The conversation, stunted as it was, progressed no further. All subsequent enquiries resulted in blank, angry stares. After fifteen or twenty more questions, he returned to his horse. I thought he was preparing to show me something of his own. Rather, he mounted his beast, turned his party away, and rode away with my dagger. Flabbergasted, I began shouting at him to come back at once and explain himself, but he ignored my ranting and rode back west. I do not know why the Ferazi reacted the way he did. I was extremely polite to him and his party, showing him every courtesy imaginable, especially considering his crude mannerisms. Even my men agree with me, and some are quick to raise objections over the tinniest of matters.
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November 12, 2011 I, who have been able to convince the greatest dragons cease their plundering for a chat about the world, was unable to convince the barbaric Ferazi utter more than a few quasi-intelligible words. Inevitably someone will scoff at me and claim that the commander understood nothing of what I said, but this I seriously dispute. Even though such a hypothesis might be feasible given my poorly verbalized anecdote, those employed by me all agreed that my words were clear and that the Ferazi understand everything I said. Since the failed encounter resulted from no error in my socialization, the Ferazi must be a crude people. They threw my first gift into the mud, failed to thank me for my second, hence stealing it, impaled my map, and rode away without the least parting gesture. No one had ever insulted me so severely before, not even the worst of thieves. Mind you, I entered into this meeting of the races with hopefulness and no animosity to the creatures, but I left with disgust and disillusionment.
LLOYD’S In the year 1063 of the Ashtari Empire, nearly one hundred and fifty years after Lloyd Flaven created his sanctuary, Ned sat and leaned his chair back, nestling it snugly into the corner of Lloyd's Pub. Of course, Lloyd Flaven was deceased, and his famous pub had passed onto his children, to their children, grand-children, onto a series of forgettable owners, and finally into the hands of Scott Menen, who was presently tending bar. In the course of one hundred and forty four years of rain, summers, winters, and assorted other weatherings, the sign outside which boldly proclaimed the establishment's name had faded, been repainted several times, rotted, and replaced at least twenty times. Each 1066 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 time, some detail from the original was lost in the reproduction, a lesser paint used, a serif forgotten, the name altered slightly, a filigree border neglected, or an illustration deteriorated into banality over the generations of duplication. Likewise, the world had aged in that time, the war with the Ferazi ended in a dicey peace, trade with cities to the west had diminished, soldiers no longer visited Inviroth, and Lloyd's original clientele slowly drifted off, their seats being quickly occupied by locals who had no aspirations of worldliness, nor did they believe that the Emph Kelzar even existed. The building was now closer to the center of the enlarged Inviroth, swallowed up by its sprawl, and the only adventurers who visited the famous establishment anymore were ghosts living off of the past. With his chair leaned up against the south-west corner of the bar, the setting sunlight of springtime streaming in to the windows from his left, Ned surveyed his domain. His chair, which he had claimed several years ago, was the best in the house, and his seat, in the darkest corner of the pub, allowed him to discretely survey everyone in the room, a conceptually inverted throne. Ned was, after all, a regular at Lloyd's, not one of the fairytale adventurous souls of yore, nor some naive and impressionable boy listening to the hallucinations of soldiers that had passed away a hundred years ago. He was most-likely Scott Menen's best customer, spending practically all his free hours of bachelordom sitting in his corner and hanging out with his friends. The only other places where he spent more time was at work, and sleeping at night in his apartment. After Ned finished his tedious day of work at the docks, he would walk the thirty minute trek back to his shitty apartment to freshen up a bit, spend some quality time cursing the landlord, and then go next door to his parent's house where's Ned would have dinner with his father, mother, and brother, and thank god that he didn't have to follow his father's footsteps as his father and brother would discuss the family trade, shoe-making, , throughout the entire dinner. After dinner, Ned would stroll the two blocks to Lloyd's to hang out with his friends, where he'd have a much more entertaining night than any he'd have with his parents. 1067 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Every night, Ned would retire to the same corner and the same chair in the southwest corner of his room, chat with his friends, play a few hands of cards, have a few drinks, and discretely survey the fifty or so other attendees of the pub. He preferred the corner because in the summer time, the setting sunlight beaming through the western windows blinded anyone looking that way, obscuring his position, and consequently allowing him easily see everyone else in the bar without them glaring back. The anonymity allowed Ned to judge and pass sentence with impunity. Someone sitting anywhere else in the bar would hear some murmurs emit from the corner, followed by the occasional chorus of mocking laughter. When he would look over towards the mockery, the sunlight would blind him, and prevent him from seeing the sight. Such protection enabled Ned and his friends to yell out derogatory comments at particularly timid individuals, who having no proof of the perpetrator, would acquiesce any claims of libel, and walk away frustrated – providing even more entertainment for Ned. Ned's throne, being in the southwest corner of the essentially square room, was also capable of visually inspecting everything and everyone within the room. Ned knew every detail of the room, every chair, every table, every window, and every customer, and even the owner's habits, certainly better than anyone else. He would lean back in his wooden chair, propped snugly against two walls, watching and considering. He knew every action of Scott Menen the owner, knew all of the barmaids for the wenches they were, and everyone who entered and left the tavern. Ned halted his musings for awhile, and returned to the game at hand. He looked over the cards he held, a three and two fours, not exactly a great hand. Curt was still deciding if he wanted another card. The others, Marty, Ron, and Jeth giving Curt all of the time he needed, and Curt was obviously stalling. Ned, tired of waiting. “Come'on. We haven't got all day.” “All right 'll right,” protested Curt. “Give me one,” and he held his hand out to grab the card, which was soon to come from Jeth. 1068 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Jeth flicked a card off the top and slid it across the table to Curt, who slid it over to his side, peaked underneath, and explained, “Oh baby!” adding punctuation with a pumped arm motion. He then slid the card onto his pile, turned to Ned and smiled. Ned couldn't help but smile. “You're shittin’ me. You ain't got nothin’ in your hand.” Curt slipped his lower lip forward, and raised his eyebrows in his unique facial expression, which as far as Ned could ever determine, was made by Curt to mock people. Ned muttered, “Shit-head,” and then turned to Jeth. “Okay Jethy-boy, give me a good one.” Jeth slipped him a card from off the top of the deck. Ned began to peek under it, but saw Curt likewise trying to look under Ned's new card. “Do you mind?!?,” stabbed Ned, and he picked the card up to look at it, making sure that Curt's peeking was thwarted. Ned looked. It was only a two. “Damn! Well Jeth, yer next.” Having lost his stimulus, Ned returned to his musings. Where was he? Contemplating everything that he knew about the bar, probably more than Scott Menen himself knew. Of course, Scott was a poor specimen, well overweight, very-much dumpylooking, with poorly-clipped short-brown hair, a huge nose whose tip seemed to droop downwards. All of his clothes were old brown rags, which he only changed or took off once a week when the grime and sweat accumulated from work had begun to overpower even their owner. Ned had astutely determined that Scott only had two shirts and two pairs of breeches, one jacket, and one pair of well-aged shoes. He spent most of his working time behind the bar on the north side of the room, but would occasionally, when business had died down somewhat, come out from his cage and attempt to mingle with people. Whenever someone would crack a joke, no matter how inane, Scott would crack a twisted smile beneath his dangling nose, and chuckle a laugh that marked him as an oaf, even more than his dress or posture. 1069 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned doubted than Scott had any friends at all, except for the bottles behind his bar. Scott worked all day, from noon ‘til midnight, when the law closed the bar up, long before which he had already begun drinking his own potions, “Just making sure that they're mixed right,” he'd say, repeating this phrase and taste-testing until he was completely smashed by closing time. Ned had watched Scott's post-closing activities from outside several times. The oaf would extinguish all of the lights except for one, grab an arbitrary bottle from the shelf, sit down, and pour himself glasses until he passed out. Waking up with a hangover in the morning, he'd finish off what remained on his table, or begin a second bottle, making himself the first and last customer of the day, every day, and most likely the one with the highest bar tab. Chris had no life. It was a disgusting waste, working all day merely to afford a few glasses of alcohol at night. How could anyone be so pathetic? “Your turn Ned,” said Curt. Obviously no-one had the hand they needed. “What was that ‘Oh baby’ last time? With an exclamation like that, you should've won by now.” “I've got what I need t' win, but I was just givin’ you a chance before I squash you,” smiled Curt. Jeth added his own comment into the fray. “Curt's even been losing all ’ve these times because he’s just giving us a chance.” “Yeah, that's the ticket,” added Marty. “So I'm a nice guy,” shrugged Curt. Ned considered his hand. “Okay Curty-boy, I'll take ya up on your offer. Jeth, another card.” Jeth handed Ned another card, a six this time. “That’s it for me. “Thank you for letting me win this time, Curt,” smiled Ned.
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November 12, 2011 Curt replied, “No prob.” Jeth took a moment to look at his cards, tilted his head in consideration, and passed. “I think I've got enough. Your turn Ron.” Ned looked around and saw Jason Ginson entering the bar. He loped over to a table, upper back bent and arms swinging like some kind of Neanderthal. “Hey everyone, look who's here,” said Ned facetiously. The others turned around to look at whomever Ned was now mocking. “Oh, if it ain't Dopey,” said Ron sarcastically. Jeth added, “I haven't seen him for awhile. I thought he wasn't coming back here.” “He didn't seem to get our message,” said Ron. Jason sat down at a table on the opposite side of the room... after first turning his chair around so that the back rested up against the table. Ned couldn't resist the jab, “Well he's not one of nature's smartest creatures.” “Yer right about that,” verified Jeth. Jason yelled over a drink to Scott, and then pulled out a sack and dumped its contents on the table: some cheese, bread, and something else which Ned couldn't make out. “The scum 'z even brought ‘iz own food,” said Ned disgustingly. “Ya think that Scott 'd toss ‘im out,” said Jeth. “I know I would,” answered Ned, “The bastard hangs out here all night long, but only orders one drink ever. If I were Scott, I'd toss him on the street.” “But Scott is too much of a wuss t’ do that,” added Ron. Ned continued to stare spitefully at Jason, hoping that Scott would have the balls to kick him out. Ned didn’t care about Scott's business, which wasn't much, but Jason's 1071 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 presence disgusted Ned. The oaf wasn't capable of getting a steady job. He had spent the last several years scrounging by on odd jobs, usually hauling heavy loads from one point in the city to another, lacking even the presence of mind to purchase a mule or pony. Even alkie Scott had more dignity than Jason, whose hair was always messed up, chin covered with un-cut stubble, and clothes patched a hundred times over. Ned had a little talk with Jason a few weeks ago, informing Jason of his malodorous personal habits, dopey stance, and rude behavior towards the management. Ned had clearly told him to never come into Lloyd's again. It seemed to have worked for awhile, but now the bastard was back. Ned might eventually use more severe tactics, although Ned hadn't planned those out yet. “God, I hope he doesn't start laughing,” commented Jeth. Ron started guffawing and banging the table in cartoonish mockery of Jason. “Cut it out. It's bad enough in here with one Jason.” “Speaking of Jason,” inserted Marty, “We have to finish this card game. Curt, it's your turn.” Everyone took a few moments to return their attention to the game, and then Curt made his move, “Like I said before, I'm stayin’.” Ned, “Me too.” Jeth, the dealer, chimed in, “Okay, I’ve got fourteen,” as he laid out his cards. Ron revealed his hand, “Fourteen also.” Marty started beaming at this point, as he dropped his cards on the table, “Read ‘em and weep guys. Twenty.” Curt muttered, “Shit” and laid three his cards on the table. Ned said, “Fuck” at the same time, and threw his cards into the center. “No wonders he wanted to resume the game.” 1072 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Marty smiled, separated the cards from the coinage on the table, and pulled all of the money to his corner. “Another game gents?” asked Marty. Just at that moment, a loud uproar came from someplace near the entrance. Ned feared that it was Dopey at first, until he saw the perpetrator, Mike Andersen, almost as bad. Mike, or “the goon”, as Ned referred to him, was a tall scraggly looking guy with reddish hair, a lot of freckles, no muscles, and a grin which stretched the entire length of his face. Those features alone yelled out, “Hit me!” and Ned was sorely tempted to whenever he’d see Mike sitting at the table, always one of the ones closest to the door. He’d be chatting with two or three of his likewise nerdy friends in some sort of heated argument about imaginary things. Mike and his stupid friends would always talk about activities which they would never do, and events which would never happen. They'd talk about leaving Inviroth and travelling north, which wasn't such an outrageous thing in itself. But then they’d add that wanted a life in the image of Derek Half-wit, whose table they must’ve assumed that they were sitting at, and lead a life of adventure, finding treasure, righting evils, and slaying dragons. North wasn’t the only direction they were destined for, and inevitably, each day would bring a new direction, either north, south, east, west, down, or up. Ned never really figured out how Mike and friends intended to go in the later two directions. Once he had hear one of Mike's friends, Myron, suggest a visit to the Emperor – as if the Emperor would give them an audience. The talk wouldn't disgust Ned so much if the goons would ever have the guts to undertake such a journey, but for the most part, they were afraid of even walking beyond their own bedrooms. Ned wasn't sure what was worse, Jason who had no goals and achieved nothing, or the goon-squad which had monumental goals and did nothing. More than the goons’ aspirations sickened Ned; their perception of reality was completely warped. Mike regularly talking to Remozsh, the lowest race ever, and definitely the stupidest and laziest that inhabited Inviroth. Not did Remozsh not gave 1073 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 any goals, and only sporadic employment, they never had houses or apartments. They ate out of garbage cans, and didn't care. Jason, at least, understood his predicament. Mike not only talked with Remozsh, but he’d call Scott over when business was slow and ask the drunken bar-keep to tell the goons stories about the glory day of Lloyd's Pub. They always wanted to hear a different story of the west, of the Emph Kelzar, or of Derek Halfwit, none of which Scott remembered. Hell, the only thing he did remember was where to find his liquor. The goons were pathetic, living in a fantasy world which would never get them anything accepts ridicule from other sane people. “Hey Ned, ya in?” asked Marty. “Sure, why not,” automatically replied Ned, as he returned to the present. “He was lookin’ at Mikey over there,” interjected Curt with a wryly. “They’ve got a thing goin’, ya know.” A chorus of faked “Ooo’s” came from everyone except Ned. Ned, in verbal swordplay, answered Curt. “Well, since you’re so jealous, I’ll let you have him. He’s all yours.” Before Curt could get a word in edge-wise, Marty broke in. “Speaking of fags, I’ve got this great story to tell ya. You see, I was walkin’ alone, mindin’ my own business, when I see these two guys sitting on the side of the road, looking at a dog.” All the while, Marty’s arms and hands were adding to the story. Ron leaned back in his chair and muttered, “Not this one.” Ned, not having heard this joke before, motioned for Ron to stay put. “Don't jump to any hasty decisions. Let’s give the man a chance.” “Thank you,” said Marty, and he gave a slight bow to Ned. “Now, the dog was...” To Ned's surprise, the pub's entryway door opened, and in stepped a Ferazi. 1074 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned to stare a moment in amazement, during which time he instinctually muttered "RABBIT," as a subconscious warning to himself and everyone nearby. He'd never seen a Ferazi in Lloyd's pub before. He doubted that one had ever been inside the building, even when it was a famous enclave from the myths of Derek Halfwit. Everyone at the table, and apparently a few a bit more distant, heard Ned's subconsciously-spoken warning and quickly turned around to verify Ned's utterance... that a roo (Ferazi) had entered the tavern. Ferazi weren’t descended from rabbits, but from wallaroos. Others in the bar stared in amazement, probably wondering the same thing as Ned, what was it doing in here? Since the war ended a few generations ago, the Emperor had allowed Ferazi to enter the Human territories. Several hundred roos lived in Inviroth, obviously doing something nefarious, but still protected by the Emperor's law. None had ever entered Lloyd's before, or any other Human pub to Ned's knowledge, and he would have known such things. Seeing their friends look towards the door and turn white, everyone who was not already staring, turned to see the roo. The room fell silent, quieter than when Bob and Charlie had gotten into a knife fight a few months back. It was absolute silence as everyone watched the white Ferazi. The Ferazi might have heard Ned, and glared in his direction. The roo swiveled its ears towards Ned’s corner. It didn’t swivel both of its ears though, because one of them, the left one, was only a stump. Ned new better than anyone what this ment, having a Ferazi ear which he had acquired while “rabbit hunting” currently sitting on his dresser at home. They made good keyrings. “Fucking rabbit,” muttered Ned again. He wouldn’t give in. Rabbit ears were trophies taken when some rabbit-hunting vigilantes made a kill. This Ferazi obviously hadn't died, which told Ned that it would be a mean one. While Ned was considering this conclusion, the Ferazi turned its head and stared directly at Ned. Ned's heart began beating about twice as quickly as normal. 1075 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned’s hand slowly reached for the eating-knife he had strapped to his belt, and in the mean time, he got a better look at the Ferazi that he had just insulted. It was a typical looking one, with whitish fur and evil eyes, but unlike the roos which Ned usually preferred to encounter, this one wore a shirt of chain-mail and a wrist sword strapped to its left side. Ned tried to formulate his plan of action. If the beast charged him with sword ready to impale, how long it would take to reach Ned? Would anyone luckily (for Ned) get in its way? How would Ned get out of the bar? Ned was not well-liked by the Ferazi community. The beast, at first, stared in the Ned’s corner, causing Ned’s heart to first skip a beat, and then palpitate at unusually high rates in an attempt to make up for lost time, perhaps the rest of Ned’s life. His companions must have done likewise. To Ned’s surprise and relief, the Ferazi’s sinister glare turned from his corner, and slowly scanned the room, examining all of the tables. Perhaps Ned would live. Its attention bounced from Joe’s table, where Tim and Jack had relaxed, to some others whose names Ned had forgotten at the moment, and finally to rest on the goons’ table, where Mike and his buddies Jeff and Will sat. They’d be enjoying some adventures today, real ones too. If the roo mistook them for Ned and thought that they had muttered the insult, their adventure wouldn’t last long. And loh-and-behold, Ned smiled amused, Mike seemed to want to experience the aforementioned adventure. He waved his arm in the air and yelled out “Shaj, over here.” Ned just sat, for the most part relieved, and waited for the roo to draw its sword, charge over to Mike's table, and impale the goon’s neck. While on a hunting trip, Ned had seen one of his companions impaled by a Ferazi sword. Although he could remember that the blood-choked hunter had red hair, somewhat like Mike’s, and was heavily built, Ned’s panicked mind couldn’t come up with his name, other that it began with a “J”. 1076 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Did Mike really say, “Over here?” Mike continued to wave his arm, and again yelled something like, "Shaj, over here," (but he couldn’t have) and the Ferazi began approaching Mike. Ned’s mouth was agape. Stopping his arm waving, the goon pulled out an empty chair next to him and motioned for the Ferazi to sit down. What did he think? That he could invite the beast to a bit of tea and crumpets? And that the creature would have the civility and upbringing to know that it shouldn’t decapitate, maim, or in any way hurt his guest? Mike, his head swimming with Derek Halfwit stories, probably expected the roo to quietly sip its tea, holding the delicate china with two clawed fingers, while keeping the pinky straight and outstretched. Not a chance. About this time, Ned regained enough composure to look about the room and see what everyone else was doing. All eyes were glued on the soon-to-erupt conflict. People were poised, only half sitting, and ready to bolt for an exit at the slightest flash of steel or drip of blood. Ned also, realized that he was ready, with somewhat more cause for alarm. If Mike’s lack of good judgment was about to get himself killed, Ned would kindly step aside though. Ned returned his attention to the roo and goon. He quickly averted his vision towards some nearby windows and wondered how thick the glass was, how far down would he’d fall, and what was beneath. After considering the matter for two seconds, Ned decided that any defenestration was preferable to an enraged Ferazi’s blade. Back to Mike, thought Ned. When Ned’s focus returned to the Roo and Mike, the beast had gotten all of the way to Mikes table without drawing its weapon - Unusual. Ned had expected some bloodshed by this point. Instead, the beast grabbed the back the chair Mike offered, swiveled it around, and sat down.
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November 12, 2011 Ned watched intently as Mike began talking to the Ferazi, and was amazed when the thing replied to Mike in its hoarse, almost whispering voice. Ned couldn’t hear much of the conversation beyond murmurs and the occasional word. Mike must have somehow known the Ferazi, which beyond being incredible, was also seen as treasonous in the eyes of Ned, though the Emperor's laws disagreed. Ned was aware that Mike fraternized with Remozsh, the most worthless and disgusting race he had heard of, but Ned had never suspected that Mike would be treacherous enough to deal with Inviroth's historical enemy. But then again, if Mike were whacked enough to talk to Remozsh, he didn’t have to be too much more crazy to carry on conversation with Roos. The room, which had been absolutely quiet except for the conversation between the traitor and roo, began to murmurs and scuffle as the tension eased, and many of the denizens quietly found the exit, temporarily freezing whenever the Ferazi glanced their way. Others stayed, discussing Mike’s friend amongst themselves, in hushed tones. “Why the fuck did ya do that? “ stated Ron. “Yeah, ya trying ta get us all killed” added Jeth. Ned tried to change the conversation. “Son of a bitch. D’ya see that goon with the ra... [pause] Ferazi?” This time, all eyes on his table were glaring at Ned. Deflecting the subject again, Ned asked, “What the fuck is that thing doing here?” No one had an answer. Pause. After turning around, surveying the traitor and beast talking, Marty produced a joking response, “Just having a spot of tea and biscuit to wile away the afternoon.” Marty picked up an imagined teacup with pinky stretched out
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November 12, 2011 “Shut up,” commanded Ned, being in no mood for Marty’s jokes “Either way Ned, I think you should get out 'ta here cause I think he saw ya.” Ron verified that with a “yeah.” Ned watched the roo and goon for awhile. “Yeah, yer right. I wish I knew what that fucker was doin’ here.” “We’ll find that out later,” answered Jeth. “Just sneak out with the rest of the people. They've been doin’ it for the past few minutes and it ain’t done anything.” Ned watched carefully as two more people, Tom and Frank, edged out the door and escaped. They'd be booking as soon as they got out of sight of the Roo, Ned thought. He hated to follow up such a cowardly act with his own version, but he could see no other choice if he wished to increase his odds of living. But maybe... “Maybe it’s a goon-Roo like its pal there, and it won’t attack,” proposed Ned. Everyone thought. “The chainmail,” pointed out Marty, “says NO.” Jeth added, “If it does still have it out for ya, then we ain’t got no poker or swords. We’ll just get out 'v here and go huntin’ for it later.” “Sounds like a plan,” said Ned. “I'll meet ya at my place in thirty minutes.” Ned found his courage, stood up, quietly pushed back his chair, and wound his way around his corner table, and towards the front door. He decided to walk along the left wall until he got to the bar, and then along the bar, and out the doors to safety. Ned managed to stealth his way to the bar, acting as casual as possible, where he took a quick look at the Ferazi. It was staring directly at him, having stopped speaking to the goon. Ned’s heart jumped, and then beat faster.
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November 12, 2011 Pretending not to notice that he was noticed, Ned slowly strolled down part of the bar before looking at the threat again. Just before passing perpendicular to the Ferazi’s table, he took another peek. His heart rate jumped again. It was still staring at Ned, and must have been for most of Ned’s exit stroll, since everyone else in the bar was doing likewise. Ned stopped, cold, and quickly tried to formulate another plan. It was just at this time that Scott Menen, the oaf bartender, seemingly completely ignorant of the impending situation, asked, "So wha’ d’ya want?" The question seemed to be pointed at Ned even though Ned wasn’t looking at Scott, and could only see Scott on his periphery. “Huh?” was Ned's only response. “What kind ‘v drink d’ya want?” Ned didn’t feel that this was the best time to be sitting down at a bar and drinking, while an enraged Ferazi sat glaring behind him. But it was one of his options. The other was to make for the door, either casually or by bolting. The Roo obviously suspected Ned. Heading out the door at this point might further aggravate it, and cause it to act. Sitting at the bar and cautiously sipping a drink until it got bored, and left, sounded like a safer rout. Ned turned away from the Ferazi and faced Scott. “Hmm,” said Ned trying to act naturally, “I’ll have a dark house-special today.” Scott nonchalantly went about tapping the beer, returning with a stein, only seconds later. “Two dollars,” he said. The first thing that came to Ned’s mind was to yell at Scott about how stupid it was to make him pay right now. In order to not draw attention to himself, Ned pulled out two dollars, and placed them on the counter. Scott deftly slid the money off the countertop into his palm. 1080 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Taking up his stein, Ned began to sip, paying careful attention to any sound that he heard, and any shadow movements. Sip. No sound. Ned began to make plans for dealing with the roo. He would meet his friends at his house. Wait, Ned would first wait until the Roo left, and would then meet then head back to the table, make plans to meet at his house, and everyone would go off to get ready. He had his sword stashed away in his room. Who had the poker? Ned thought for a moment, and then remembered that he had given it to Curt the last time the group had gone Roo hunting. Ned hoped that Curt had purchased some more bolts since then. They'd all meet together, armed and ready for the hunt, and then head off to skin this Ferazi. It'd be dark enough by the time they left, so no-one would bother them. Ned didn’t know where this roo lived, though, not having seen it before. That didn’t matter much, since Ned thought he could quickly bully the location out of Mike-thegoon. Ned would have to do that before he left the bar; just tap mike on the shoulder and ask him to step outside. Once he had Mike alone, Ned would give him a long talk, perhaps threaten him with something, and learn where the Roo lived. Then, Ned would round up everyone and send them off to get weapons. It sounded like a plan. How would Ned get Mike to tell him where the Ferazi lived? What should Ned say to the goon? Although Ned liked to display toughness, he was civilized and wouldn’t do any more violence to Mike than pushing him around. But then again, Mike WAS a traitor who consorted with the enemy, and least in the eyes of Ned. Why mike was hanging out with a Ferazi, Ned couldn’t tell. Even considering Mike’s odd cravings to talk to Remozsh, Ned was unable to comprehend how Mike could deal with anything so loathsome as Ferazi. They had been the enemy of Inviroth since its inception. And had, until sixty years ago, been the enemy in a brutal war 1081 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 with the Empire. To Ned, Ferazi weren’t enemies due to philosophical or political reasons. Nor were they enemies because they weren't human; Remozsh weren’t human and Ned couldn’t care a shit about what they did. Ferazi were the enemy because they attacked Ned's ancestors, and with their occupation of Inviroth, albeit in small numbers, they were once-again threatening Ned’s homeland. While still young, and prone to listening to bedtime stories, Ned’s grandmother had told him many true stories about the Human-Ferazi wars ended fifty years prior. Many of the stories had come Ned’s grandfather and great-grandfathers, who had been on the battlefront, and seen their comrades brutally murdered. One story made an deep impression on Ned, from his great-grandfather, who had been a recon officer in the army near the end of the war. He commanded a group of men who searched out enemy positions. Ned’s great-grandfather was exceptionally good at this, and had gone many years without losing a man, until one fall day. While half of the leaves still clung to the trees, Ned's great-grandfather and his troop were ambushed by the Ferazi. No-one knows exactly when or how the battle occurred, but several days later, another scout found the mutilated bodies of everyone in the troop lying on the ground, and being pecked at and eaten by carrion birds. Ferazi don’t take prisoners. They are merciless with those they attack. Ned's great-grandfather, identified by his clothing and other personal affects, had a gaping spear-hole where his heart had been. His skin and hair were cut from his body, and taken by the Ferazi as a war trophy, along with both of his hands. All of his men were likewise mutilated. Such stories were not rare or even uncommon, but were normal for anyone who had lost to the Ferazi. The only part of a man taken prisoner was his skin. These mutilations were compounded by the Ferazi's thirst for revenge. Ned heard tales of Ferazi commanders hunting down Humans who had fought against them in battles past, but who had not been killed by the Ferazi. Such Ferazi mentality forced the Humans to be similarly bloody, and they in-turn prevented any Ferazi from escaping. An escaped Roo would hold a grudge and hunt down his combatant until one of them died.
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November 12, 2011 That's why Ned considered any Ferazi living in Inviroth to be an enemy. Ferazi never forgot. If someone or some group had crossed it in the past, they would take revenge. Anything that would keep a grudge in battle, would surely bear it into peacetime. Of course, Ned's suspicions alone didn’t lead him into his hatred. He frequently heard whispers about events happening in Inviroth, those not mentioned by the government. No matter what the Emperor said about a Human-Ferazi peace, they were still at war. Just two months ago, several people whom Ned had acquaintances with were found dead in an alley, with their faces torn off, and bloody Ferazi footprints scattered about. The police did nothing about this. Similar murders had happened in the past, along with other strange crimes committed by Ferazi, such as their breaking into buildings, and snooping around the castle. Yet the police did nothing. Ned and a lose network of vigilantes were forced to assume the “vengeance” responsibility of the tethered police and military in order to protect Inviroth from the Ferazi. Occasionally, perhaps once every few months, Ned would gather with some friends, Curt and Marty included, and go on a “Roo hunt”, ridding the city of the worst of them. Once the beast was killed, they would hang up its pelt in a somewhat public spot to spook the other Roos, and give them a serious hint that they should get out of the city, someplace where they didn't belong. Although Ned was frustrated with the police's “truce” policy, the policemen themselves were all on Ned’s side, and cared nothing for the Ferazi. When the police would investigate “the scene of the pelt”, they'd call it a suicide, and shut the case down without asking anyone any questions. Deserving some sort of trophy after the kill, the hunters would often cut off the Roo's ears, stringing their collection together. Ned had four or five accumulated over his hunts, the “ear right” typically going to the person who administered the fatal blow. Ned turned around to make sure that the Ferazi was still there. The Roo, sitting behind Ned, had one ear cut off. Ned assumed that it had been hunted, knocked unconscious, and had one ear cut off, and was somehow rescued by a friend. Or it might not have been dead, and woken up with only one ear missing. A 1083 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 one-eared Ferazi was certainly more dangerous than one who had never been hunted; it was aware of the Brotherhood’s hunting techniques. To rid the streets of such an extraordinarily dangerous Ferazi, and because he feared himself marked for dead by the beast, Ned was determined to hunt it down as quickly as possible. Which left the problem of finding where it lived, or more immediately, of convincing Mike to tell Ned where it lived. Ned returned to planning how to convince Mike to talk. Ned should explain why all Ferazi needed to be killed... Shit! Ned’s head was ripped backwards as his hair was grabbed by a claw. Before he could react, or even understood what happened, he felt another claw creeping along his throat, and tickling his jugular with sharp talons. They felt their way to attack positions before grabbing on and digging in. Now looking straight up, Ned noticed some frescos on the ceiling that he had never seen before. Crap! A harsh voice with accompanying hot breath whispered into his ear, "Call me ra' veet", both claws tightening their grasp at the last word. Ned began to say something, but he couldn't force himself to break the silence that engulfed the room. The under-chin and nose of the Ferazi appeared at the top of Ned’s vision, obscuring the frescos, and turned down so that the Ferazi's two black eyes were stared right through Ned, spiteful and gloating. Shit! thought Ned again. How could Ned get himself away? He had a beer mug in one hand. Smashing it against the Ferazi would only speed up Ned’s death. Alternatively, Ned could reach for his knife, but as soon as he did that, his throat would be impaled by the Ferazi's
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November 12, 2011 knife-like claws, already in position. Ned’s head was immobile, so he couldn’t dodge. Simply, Ned could do nothing. Maybe he could weasel his way out. “No,” said Ned with much effort. “I didn't say it.” His throat was dry. His murderer answered in its harsh voice. “Haf one ear I. Not deaf.” Ned imagined that a malevolent smile appeared on the Roo's mouth. All Ned could do was wait and hope that someone would attack the preoccupied Ferazi from behind. Every second that the wimps in the bar delayed, reduced his odds. Why wasn't anyone attacking the beast? Just then Ned heard the goon's voice, “Wait Shaj. Don't hurt him.” The Ferazi's head disappeared from Ned’s vision. Its grip loosened slightly, perhaps it heeded Mike for some unknown reason. But, before Ned could sigh in relief, his head was propelled forward and into the countertop. Blank. Ned woke up a few minutes later, this time staring up at the ceiling from a new position on the ground. A group of people were huddled around him. They were asking him if he was alright. The Ferazi and goon had left.
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November 12, 2011
Roy
ROY As interesting as bussing tables at Lloyd’s was, Mike had given Roy a much more interesting job. Roy left work early, forfeiting his pay and place to sleep. If Scott, or any Human, could ever identify which Remozsh were which, he'd have fired Roy. All Roy had to do was return a few days later, and restart his job. He didn’t even have to change his name; to Scott and other Humans, Roy was nameless… except for Mike. Today had been an exciting day for Roy, his first adventure beginning early in the morning when he acquired a leg of scrumptious chicken. It had been left on one of the tables at Lloyd's, unattended, for the night. The ensuing good-willed chase 1086 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 around the establishment that his coworkers gave him was a bonus. Roy was allowed to eat his prize in peace. He darted outside, climbed onto the roof, and hid from the other Remozsh long enough to inhale his chicken meat. He jokingly tossed the bone down at his friends. Roy’s next adventure came when Mike introduced Roy to Mike's Ferazi friend, Shaj. Shaj didn’t answer Roy’s greeting, or shake his hand, but Roy had come to expect that from big people, whether human, or as Roy added to his list, Ferazi. After the ruckus with the guy at the bar, Roy followed Mike and Shaj out the door; Scott, the pub’s owner, didn’t notice. As near as Roy could figure out from Mike’s conversation with Shaj, Shaj went on some religious journey or something. Mike went off to his apartment to do some thinking. Roy, as per Mike's instructions, sauntered off to find and watch a warehouse that Mike had showed him. Roy was supposed to watch it and tell Mike if he saw any people going in and out. Some people had stolen something from Mike’s workplace, and he thought their hideout was in the warehouse. No matter who was in the warehouse, the job sounded fun. Roy had never watched a warehouse before, nor had he done any spying. Roy did, however, watch people quite a lot, just for fun. As a bonus, Mike said he’d buy Roy his meals while he was watching the building, and Mike was as good as his word. All in all, it was a pretty sweet deal, and Roy was excited to get to his post. Roy spent around thirty minutes wandering around the city in an attempt to re-find the warehouse. He had somehow lost himself amongst the buildings and alleys of Inviroth, though. When he finally recognized where he was, Roy estimates that the warehouse was only a kilometer or two away. 1087 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy walked past a familiar butcher’s shop. He had sat outside the presently-closed shop for many hours a few weeks before, amusing himself by watching the customers, the food they left with, and the owner, who was, of course, very fat. Roy couldn’t blame him for being fat though, seeing as Roy would himself put on weight if were the sole proprietor of a shop full of meats - lamb, pork, chicken, some cow, and several other unknown muscles. All of them hung defenseless and awaiting a bit of seasoning and a low cooking fire. The obese butcher had would once-in-awhile step through his doors when he had no customers, and preen his moustache. Anyone who walked in front of him would be brought to abrupt halt as they were greeted: “Hello my friend,” he would say. “I have a nice juicy leg here from a very fine beast,” pointing to his collection. If the passerbys would try to get away, he'd say something like, “No? Well then come on inside where I have some fresh lamb-chops. I’ll give you a very good price.” This speech would occasionally convince one of the multitudes of the man’s “friends” into his shop, but often they'd give a polite, “No,” and walk on. In which case, the fat man would grow disappointed, perhaps because his “friend” had let him down. Exacerbated by the sweat dripping down his brow, his face would reveal worries. He'd sulk for a moment, perking up when another person would walk down the meandering road. After having watched the butcher for a good long time, several days, why not, Roy felt that he knew the butcher’s personality well enough. Or, at least as well as one could without actually having talked to him. Roy's stomach began to growl. Hunger crept from its hiding place and into Roy’s stomach, and then up into his thoughts. In an effort to kill two birds with one stone, Roy decided to talk to the man and find out some more about him. After all his observations, Roy figured that he might be able to become the man’s friend also. And the man might provide Roy with some of the juicy meat that he was offering to all his
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November 12, 2011 other friends. If it worked, Roy would find himself a good chat, and maybe subdue his hunger. Roy's curiosity and hunger combined mustered his courage. He approached the man. “Howdy, I'm Roy. What's yours?” asked Roy in a matter-of-fact way. The man, enormous once Roy got close to him, and all stomach from Roy's vantage, bent over somewhat and looked down at Roy with a nasty look. He waved his hand as if to shoo away a fly and commanded, “Scram rat!” Though the pattern was familiar, Roy didn’t quite understand. “But mister,” said Roy politely as possible. “I was just tryin' to be your friend. You seem ta be friendly with everyone.” “I'm not your friend. Now get out 'a here!” Roy's hopes started failing, but his hunger remained strong. It was worth a try: “Well then, could I have some of the lamb chops you've been tryin’ ta give away all day?” At this, the man's scowl morphed into anger, and he answered Roy's friendliness with threats, “Look! If you don’t leave, I'll give you a lot-a chops with this.” From somewhere behind him, the man extracted a large butcher's knife. He briefly eyed it for sharpness, and then made air-drawings along Roy's limbs with its tip. “I think you've got some good meat on you, for my dogs.” He waved the knife at Roy’s shoulder. “Your your tail might be meatier.” Never-ever try and make friends with a grump butcher. Roy didn't let the man catch him by his arm or tail. He quickly turned around, and ran away as quickly as he could, the man's curses and laughter chasing Roy. Roy didn't sleep well for the next several nights, experiencing dreams of knives, butcher's blocks, nursery rhymes about blind mice's tails, and imagining what those exotic meats really were. 1089 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Even now, when the shop was closed for the evening, Roy felt the man's eyes on him. He was perhaps staring at the Remozsh from behind a curtain in an upstairs window, or waiting behind a corner with his knife. Roy’s imagination returned to the present as Roy walked past the angry butcher’s shop. He strolled down the shadowed alleys and streets of the neighborhood. Roy occasionally looked up at the blackened sky, the twinkling of a star occasionally peaked through the encroaching clouds. Those stars not obscured by clouds were hidden by buildings, dark pointed shadows that ate large, black voids into the sky. People’s candle lights occasionally filtered through curtains or shutters to for silhouetted rectangles within the jet-black roof peaks. Inside, looking at the same light, were people huddled around dinner tables, family at hand, and meal in front of them. Of course, they would be having a good meal, including meat ... something which Roy would not rather think about at the moment. Their table might include some yams, lettuce, warm steaming bread with butter or cheese, and most likely a beer to quench their meal’s thirst. Roy imagined all of the foods in front of him as he walked. That’s all he had for now. Mike had forgotten to feed Roy earlier, so Roy wouldn’t get any food until morning. Tonight would be hungry at the warehouse. The Remozsh wandered on, pausing momentarily to decide which alley he needed to go down, to reach the street before the other street, where the warehouse was. Guessing, Roy turned right, then left, and finally wandered into the right street. He recognized a house with bright red-painted shutters lit by a lamp across the street. He had noted the unique shutters the other day when Mike had shown him the warehouse. Roy was to watch the warehouse door for a few days and inform Mike of anyone who came in or out, and well as where they went. The job seemed easy-enough to Roy, especially since Mike would supply him with food. Roy enjoyed nothing better than sitting around and chewing on some bread while watching the city go by. He did so frequently.
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November 12, 2011 Roy, when he wasn’t working… which was quite often… Roy was frequently fired by his bosses for eating food, napping, or some other trifle. Several days later, he was then rehired by the same men without them ever realizing that they had just gotten rid of him a few days earlier. Roy treated firings more mike holidays than punishments. He would spend them lounging around Lloyd's (someplace hidden up in the rafters, or outside), or wander some distant part of the city. Enjoying his wanders, Roy would meander as far as he was willing to walk, as far as he would walk before he tired. With nothing else to do, he’d sit down and watch. Being surrounded by people, Roy was never at a loss for interesting people to watch. He sometimes followed them around town for awhile, staying far enough away that they'd never notice. He’d watch them go about their daily chores of visiting shops, entering unmarked buildings, and stopping and chatting with friends and acquaintances. He’d watch them work as a butcher, baker, leather-worker, merchant, dock hand, sailor, or whatever. While observing their intentional and methodological activities, Roy would attempt to figure out a personality and history for these people. What were they doing? Where were they going? What had then done in the past? How did they feel about doing them? After observing someone long enough, and asking enough hypothetical questions of them, Roy would imagine himself them… as much as he dared. Roy’s Hominid observations and imaginings would produce many interesting characters. Many of the people he saw were wealthy guildsmen with large houses and comfortable beds. Others were sailors who had travelled all over the seas, from one port to another, just as Mike had read to Roy. Some people were heroes, stocking up on supplies from city shops, preparing to journey back into the wilderness where they would slay wild beasts and dragons. Some people, Roy deduced, had come all of the way from O' Sayuh, or from the wizard city of Krothk, up north, where all of the streets and buildings were perfect, and everyone was happy with plenty to eat, provided to them by the wizards through the grace of their magic. Roy had, once or twice, listened in on some people who se suspected as being members of the thieves’ guild. He follow them as they wandered around from one
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November 12, 2011 contact to another, themselves looking for a good spot for a heist or murder that night. People are what Roy liked about the city, each of them like mobile chapters in the book. As Mike had told Roy, every chapter is a small story in itself, somehow related to previous and subsequent chapters, often in mysterious ways. The more mysterious, the more interesting the story. Roy found that people met the definition of chapters. Every knew at least fifty other people, and those people knew others, who knew more, binding all of their stories together into a city. As Roy tagged along behind one person, his friend for the day, that person would meet and talk to others, often people Roy had observed before. As with any book, some chapters were boring. Roy had once sat and watched an old man sit in a chair on a veranda, all day long. The man just stared and laughed to himself occasionally. When Roy approached the self-amused man and tried to talk with him, all Roy received was a blank stare. He wasn’t even threatened. Most people were much more interesting, providing Roy with endless hours of speculation. He once followed two men who, while walking down the city’s maze, talked about how the war with the Ferazi had suddenly ended. They speculated that the cause was when the emperor had discovered that an underground existed. One of the men was doing investigating the matter. Roy was reading a chapter about someone reading a chapter about the Emperor. Roy unfortunately lost track of them when a large dog chased him down the street and around the block. Their words were enough to help Roy's imagination run wild, into thoughts of espionage and a hidden alliances. When he told Mike of the men, Mike and Roy spent several more hours discussing the subject, trying to figure out what exactly the men were discussing. That’s why Roy liked the city so much. Not only was it a book. The city was an endless book, unlike the ones that Mike read to him. In paper books, the hero always dies at the end. Or he returns to his castle. Or he gets married. Or he 1092 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 rides into another journey into a different book, not in the library. Or, the hero would disappear, and his squire would continue on the tale, ultimately becoming a hero in the next book. The city had no end. It couldn’t, because one page didn’t follow another. There were always new avenues, alleys, and sections of town, so many so that Roy had never found the edge of Inviroth. No matter how much he tried, and Roy didn’t really try, Roy couldn’t find his way out of Inviroth’s gates and into the wilderness. Mike led him out once, and Roy had enjoyed the farmland. Roy never managed to find his way back out again though. Roy didn’t really remember where he was in the city. He remembered key scenery in the city, and knew what scenery was next to whatever scenery, roughly. Their exact relationship to one-another was left forgotten to be rediscovered every time. Before Mike had physically led Roy to the edge of the city and spent a few hours walking around the trees and fields, he had only every heard of the mythical place by listening to others. Roy had spent some time searching for the edge of the maze, but couldn’t find it. He could make his way to the city’s docks, at its south-eastern edge. Not being allowed on any ships, Roy could never precede further southeast. The city’s walls to the north, west, and south were completely elusive. The treks there where filled with intertwining chaotic streets and houses forming streets. Since Mike had taken Roy outside the city, Roy had attempted to follow the same route, by the same shops, churches, and houses, but he could never find that final road which led him to the gates. Roy didn’t work too hard at finding the gates. He wasn’t interesting goals, particularly goals that lead to dangerously-open spaces, mass of trees, and occasional birds that were distinctly uninteresting. Without the activities and stories of people around him, Roy found his limited experiences in the farmlands to be suffocating stimulation-wise. If Mike weren’t there to talk to Roy and keep him company, Roy would have run back through the city gates as quickly as possible.
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November 12, 2011 How could farmers survive the doldrums of the fields? Horses didn’t leave very interesting lives. Sparrows certainly didn’t. Ploughing their fields everyday without anyone to talk to, and out in the open without any place to hide from the sun, or any shops to meander by and look at their merchandise, farmers must be very boring people. They lived in emptiness. On his walk to the warehouse, Roy halted once again. He looked about, and then made a left, walked for a few more minutes past a few houses which he knew to be close to the building he was to watch, and then suddenly came upon the warehouse. It was a large building about one story-high at the road. Above that was a thatched roof that sloped up about two more stories. Along the longest side of the building, which Roy currently faced, were ten shuttered windows and a large double-door, large enough to fit a carriage though. The doors were held fast by a large padlock, completely rusted over, and apparently unused for years – or so Mike said. Roy walked around to the right side of the building, and ventured into an alley formed by it and another building. Here there was a closed man-sized door, and four windows, one of them with a dangling shutter. Mike had asked Roy to watch the smaller door because it seemed to have been used, with scrapes on the ground and whatnot. Mike even saw someone enter through it. “But,” Mike had said, “Don’t go in.” Roy had no intention of doing so. He’d just to sit and watch the building. Looking around for a seat, Roy found a comfortable spot in the corner from where he could readily see if anyone came in or out of the door, or if there was any light inside. He sat down, hands holding together his folded knees. Roy stared at the door, waiting for something to happen. He stared so long that his eyes played tricks on him; the door visually disappeared into the looming darkness. Roy blinked and the door reappeared. Roy stared at the entrance until is disappeared once again.
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November 12, 2011 He continuing the blinking and staring process for quite awhile, perhaps several minutes, before he became bored. Rather than look at the door again, Roy took to gazing at the sky. The clouds having completely overshadowed the star's lights, there wasn’t much to see. They alley was especially dark; its only light source coming from an oil street-lamp some distance away. Roy stared up until his neck began to tire. He tried staring at the door again. Then he became bored. Roy began to fidget. He grabbed a stick that was lying around, and drew stuff in the unlit dirt. He had to imagine the lines that he etched into the ground. Roy was really bored, with nothing to watch, except blackness, and no-one to talk to. He wondered how he'd keep himself entertained. Then Roy had an idea. Mike had told Roy to not enter the building, but there wasn’t any not to peek. It was worth a try. Roy stood up, and headed towards the door. He halted for a second to reconsider his situation. Something or someone dangerous might be inside, maybe even a monster. This thought on his mind, Roy began to sit down. Wait… Curiosity was very strong. Boredom was even more powerful.
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November 12, 2011 If Roy didn’t look through the door, he would face complete and utter boredom for the night. With such a fate goading Roy, he crept over to the door and reached up, grabbing onto the door's wooden latch. Roy’s fingers touched the weathered surface. Very slowly, Roy tugged the door, but it failed to move. The door failed to move even when he pulled very hard. Pushing didn't do any good either. Unfortunately, Roy would be bored for the rest of the night. Roy returned to his corner, avoiding the alley garbage cans as he did so. Just before Roy sat down again, he remembered the dangling shutter hanging off a window next to the door. Roy occasionally used unlocked shutters as a means to food, so long as angry women with brooms weren’t waiting on the other side to protect the food. The excitement of being chased down the street by a running rolling-pin while Roy carried a fresh loaf of bread did make for a good story though. Roy was afraid of more than brooms and rolling-pins behind this shutter. Roy crept up to the window, groped a in the darkness, and found the shutter. The panel moved slightly as Roy’s hands found the shutter. It was unlocked. Roy opened the shutter, taking care to not let it creak too loudly and give him away. As he opened it, Roy watched to see if any light turned on inside. The shutter opened without complaining much. As soon as a reasonable crack had been made, Roy stuck his nose and part of his head into the room. He saw nothing. Roy smelled enough to give him the picture. The room was very musty, and smelled like rotting wood. He smelled dust, and a touch of smoke. After sniffing a few more times, Roy determined that some of the smoke odor was recent, carrying with it the aroma of something more interesting… Although not at all strong, Roy scented some cooked meat, probably mutton, but he wasn't sure.
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November 12, 2011 Just to make sure that the odor wasn't coming from outside, Roy stepped back and inhaled. Nope. The smell was coming from inside. Roy’s curiosity rose. He poked his head inside again, found the same smells, and then listened. The room was quiet except for a little patter of rain on the roof. Roy hadn't even noticed the rain start. Beyond that, Roy could hear some clanking, very distant, coming from the center of the building. Roy's heart-rate increased. The clanking went quiet for a few minutes. It was replaced by a scraping sound, something heavy dropping, and then a shout – as if someone had hurt themselves. Roy reacted without thinking. He withdrew his head from the window and booked out of the alley, taking whatever streets would get him away from there the fastest. During his flight, he recalled taking a few different lefts and rights, tripping over some clutter in the middle of the road, staggering to his feet, and ultimately stopping when he ran into a dead-end alley way which prevented his further flight. He stood, panting, cornered at the end, bent over, supporting himself by holding his hands to his knees. Roy stopped gasping for air long enough to wet his dry lips. Was he followed? Roy listened for any sign of pursuit from the warehouse, afraid a chase. Roy’s labored breaths slowed and subsided, and stopped occluding his hearing. With his breathing quieted, Roy heard nothing except an occasional bit of jovial laughter in one of the buildings overlooking the alley, followed by some muted conversation. After he had calmed down, Roy’s thoughts returned to the warehouse. He decided that he should return to his job. Roy cautiously crept out of the alley, peeked around the corner to make sure that no one was waiting, and retraced his frantic path back to his watch position. 1097 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The shutter was still half open, like he left it. The door was still closed. Roy sat down against the wall opposite the door, this time closer to the garbage cans. He resumed the watch that Mike had asked of him. Roy hoped that he hadn’t let mike down by running off. He might have missed someone entering or leaving the building. Maybe he should check the door to see if it was still locked. Roy couldn't muster the courage. He placated his guilt by telling himself he wasn't gone that long. The Remozsh resigned himself to boringly watching the door all night, hoping that the occasionally rain drops that landed on his head wouldn't turn into a torrent. Roy sat and watched the door for a long time, perhaps an hour or more. Probably more. Sleep. The sound of footsteps on the pebbled road woke him up. Roy immediately tensed up and froze, listening as the person approached. Roy hoped the person was no more than a city guard, who would wander by Roy without noticing, assuming Roy was yet another rat sleeping in an alley. Or perhaps the footsteps were from a drunk. They weren’t from either. The footsteps slowed as they approached the alley, stopping just before the corner. Roy's imagination filled in for the man behind the footsteps, the man who Roy couldn't see. Of course, the man was tall, wearing dark clothes, had a scar on the left side of his face, and glared menacingly at everything. The imagined man held a club, ready and poised to whack Roy over the head, if Roy ever peeked around the corner to see who was there. Roy concluded that he was better off sitting absolutely still, holding his breath, and hoping that the imagined character behind the footsteps would tire of the hunt and leave.
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November 12, 2011 Roy heard another step. A dark object appeared around the corner at the height of Roy's head. Roy first mistook the dark shape to be a hand, but then the shape resolved into a Remozsh's head. “Hey,Roy?” querried the other Remozsh. It didn’t click. Roy held his breath rather than say anything. “Roy, its Ted. Are ya there?” asked Ted. “Yeah,” whispered Roy. “Good,” whispered Ted, taking Roy’s hint. Ted’s silhouette stepped completely into view, something in his right hand. Not a club. Ted was one of Roy’s friends, the two having worked on several different jobs together, most recently the one at Lloyd’s. The two would occasionally take a day off and wander around the city together. Ted’s shadow lumbered up to where Roy was sitting. He placed his package on the ground. Roy caught the faint aroma of food. “I’ve got sum food here for ya,” said Ted, as he opened up the bundle. “Great,” answered Roy in appreciation, as his hands grasped for the bundle. He felt muslin cloth, which he moved aside. Feeling with his hands, Roy found himself a chicken leg and some bread. He began to shovel the food in his mouth. “Well don’ t take ‘t all fer yerself,” complained Ted. “I’m hungry too.” Ted good-naturedly grabbed the bread out of Roy's protective hand. The two had their meal devoured in about a minute. His hunger satisfied, Roy wondered where the food came from, and how Ted found his way here. “Uh Ted, how’d ya know I was here?” 1099 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Thought ya’d never ask – too busy stuffin’ yerself. It was that human friend ‘v yers who recognized me – ain’t that unusual – ‘nd he told me whare ya was ‘nd gave me tha food ta give ta’ ya.” “Oh, you mean Mike. I’m here watchin’ this building for him.” Ted’s head looked around, checking out the doors. “Don’ seem ta be doin’ nothin’.” “No,” answered Roy. "If people go in ‘n out of it, I’m to follow them. Mike thinks they might be doing somethin’ bad, so I’m here spying on them.” “’ave ya seen anyone yet?” “Naw, just heard someone in there.” Roy pointed to the window, “but Mike told me not t’ go in, so I didn’t.” Ted exhaled a short laugh. “I bet ya ran shittless when ya heard ‘t.” “Kind of,” Roy answered honestly. “I know ya,” Ted said in a teasing manner. “Ol’ Roy ‘n his imagination. So what’d these guys do?” “I don't know. Something to do with the factory that Mike works at.” “Then why don’t Mike watch tha door. He probably knows who he’s lookin’ fer.” “Yeah, but they’d see him. They’ll ignore a Remozsh ‘nd think nothing’ of us.” “True. Them tall Humans just see straight ov’r our heads ‘n right through us like we didn’t exist. That is ‘ntil they wan’t us ta deliver their drink.” Ted smiled. “Yeah, that's kind’v what Mike said.” “Hmm, odd. I didn’t think Humans realized that.” Ted paused. “This Mike seems kind ‘v odd.”
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November 12, 2011 “Well, he’s not like all the other Humans I met,” answered Roy with a bit of excitement. “We hang out together sometimes. No other Humans will even talk ta me.” “Oh, ya noticed that did yi Roy? And everyone thinks yer clueless.” Ted nudged Roy on the back in humor. “And I always watch Humans talking, but when I try the same thing, I get ignored ‘r told to scram.” Ted frowned. “You are clueless then,” stated Ted, and then he got into one of his preaching modes. “Ya see Roy, Humans don’t like us. They’d rather not have us ‘round cause we make ‘em nervous.” Yes, Roy was clueless. “But why?” “I ken say that I don’t really know, but I’ve got some guesses.” “Oh,” said Roy. The rain had picked up. Roy maneuvered closer to the wall to avoid getting wet. “First,” pontificated Ted. “I think they don’t like tha way we look. Humans don’t like Rats and we look kind ‘a sim’lar, from a Human’s perspective.” “Uh huh.” “Secondly, we don’t do no respectable jobs, as far as a Human is concerned. ‘v course, as far as I’m concerned, it ain’t worth spending tha whole day workin’ just ta pay fer a softer bed.” It began to pour. This time, Roy pushed himself up flat against the wall, eventually standing up to avoid the downpour.
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November 12, 2011 Ted looked around. “Are those garbage cans?” he said, pointing at the shadows in the corner. “Yep,” said Roy. “Well I have a mind ta use one.” He got up, knocked over the can with a crash and clatter, and then sat himself in the mouth of the overturned garbage can. Except for his feet, which stuck out, Ted’s body was shielded from the rain. Roy abandoned his wall and followed suit, knocking over another garbage can, rolling it to face Ted’s, and sat inside. “I wonder if there’s anythin’ interestin’ in these,” pondered Ted. He turned over onto his hands and knees and crawled back to the end of the can. “Nothin,” stated Ted. “What's in yers?” Roy checked around the back of his can, but only found a few stones. “Nope, can’t find anything.” Roy backed up on his hands and knees. He swiveled around, and sat down, looking towards Ted's garbage can. The rain bucketed onto the top of Roy’s impromptu roof. “So where was I,” Ted asked about the conversation. “Oh yeah, griping about Humans. Ya see, Humans are wierd. Did ya ever notice that?” “Not really,” answered a bewildered Roy. “Hmmm, and you watch them all tha time?” Smile. “All right then. Tell me what you do in a typical day. Ya wake up ‘nd then?” Roy realized he was asked a question. “Well, I suppose that I go to work, quit at night, and then go to sleep wherever I can find someplace warm.” “And do ya ever eat?” A silly question. 1102 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Uh huh, when I get hungry, and then I eat whatever I can afford or get.” “That ain’t yer pattern every day. I know that ya don’t work all tha time.” “Yeah,” Roy admitted, “Some days I wake up and don’t need any money, so I just wander around town, and find fun stuff t’ do.” “Yup, that’s exactly what I do,” Ted emphasized the point. “Now, Roy, what d’ ya s’pose a Human does during a typical day?” Ted was in a teaching mood. Roy didn’t mind. “That’s easy. They’ve all got different jobs and they do them.” “But when do they sleep? What do they eat? What do they do fer fun?” “I dunno.” Roy thought. “I know what Mike does,” answered Roy. “He reads book.” “Well Roy, let me tell ya. I’ve worked at so many differn’t jobs that I’ve seen what Humans do durin’ tha whole day. First thing, they get up and eat and have a food they call breakfast. Did ya know that Humans only eat at certain times, and only eat specific food then, and that they’ve got names fer each of these?” “No,” said a clueless mystified Roy. “Well they do. Durin’ breakfast they only eat eggs ‘n bread, and don’t eat eggs ‘t any other of their three meals.” “Oh,” was Roy’s only response. “And if they don’t git breakfast they git very upset, like they were gonna die or somethin’.” Roy didn’t know how to respond to this new trivia. 1103 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Well, after they’ve eaten they start work, and only stop ta eat fer lunch. In fact, they always stop at tha same time, around noon.” “Not really. I watch ‘em plenty then. Sometimes they don’t even eat lunch.” “Really?” pondered Ted. “I also know about dinner," added Roy. “Mike has an apartment.” Ted went on, “Then you can double-check my oberservations. They eat dinner at home. It’s always got some cooked meat and drink. Once they’ve eat’n, they go to sleep in their bed. It’s a large cushion which they can only sleep on, not sit.” Roy mostly agreed. “Mike sits on his.” “The next day they git up and do the exact same thing. Kind’ve boring. Is that about right?” “Sounds right to me.” Pause. “What is this leading?” asked Roy. “Roy, Roy, Roy," chided Ted. “You only eat when yer hungry and ya eat whatever ya can git a hold of, right?” “Right.” “A Human has to eat at specific times ‘ve the day and has ta eat specific foods then. It’s some weird ritual.” “Oh.” “And ya just go to sleep where ever ya can. Ya don’t need a bed.” “Uh huh,” agreed Roy. “And cause ya don’t have a bed, ya don’t need no house.” 1104 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ted could go on and on. “I suppose.” “Did ya notice how Humans work all ‘ve tha time?” “Well, Mike doesn’t have to work every other Sunday.” “You and I, see, we only work a few days out ‘ve tha week. Why? Cause we don’t spend money on beds or houses or ritualistic eating. And we’re paid less than Humans!” “We are?” That was news to Roy. “You bet we are. That’s why Humans are weird. They spend all ‘ve their time working and that’s all they do. They never have any fun. All of the work goes into these weird things which they don’t need.” “But why do they do these if they don’t need to?” “Ah, there’s tha point. I think they’ve got bad memories ‘nd can’t remember anything.” That didn’t make any sense to Roy. “But Mike...” “Whoa, just let me explain. When’s tha last time ya had lobster?” “’bout a year ago. I found it thrown away.” “D’ya remember what it tastes like?” “Yeah, it’s kind ‘a...” “Would ya ever pay twenty dollars ta have some more?” “Twenty dollars?! No way.” 1105 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Why not?” “Well, ‘cause I don’t have twenty dollars.” “If yih had tha money, would you pay?” “No. It wasn’t that good?” Ted was exasperated that Roy couldn’t follow his logic. “If it was good, would you?” “If I had twenty dollars?” “Yeah.” “Sure, why not,” answered Roy. Roy wasn’t following Ted’s lead. “Now, try this. If you had twenty dollars, and could spend that on lobster, OR you could save it and find some bread in the garbage for free, what would you do?” Roy didn’t have to think. “I’d take the bread. I didn’t like the lobster.” Ted gave up. “Never mind. You don’t get it.” Then Ted continued, “My observation is that they ferget what food tastes like. I worked fer a human who had lobster once a week. It’s cause he can’t remember what it tastes like, so he has to have it over ‘nd over.” “Gee.” Roy finally got Ted’s point. Or rather, Roy thought he got Ted’s point.
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November 12, 2011 “And it’s tha same thing with a soft bed. They’ve forgotten the last time they’ve slept on tha ground, and ‘r afraid they might get hurt if they did, ‘cause they forgot. Now, both you and I know that the ground ain’t as comfortable as a cushion, but sleep ‘z sleep, ‘nd when ya wake up ‘n the mornin’ ya don’t really care where ya slept.” “Oh, I get it,” Roy said, perhaps getting it. “So humans can’t remember anything, so they spend all of their time working in order to pay for it again.” “Kind ‘a like that.” Ted seemed satisfied with Roy’s response. “But Mike...” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But he’s not like tha rest of ‘em, is he. Why, he even remembered my name. Has any Human besides Mike ever remembered yer name?” Roy wasn’t thinking about Mike’s memory at all, but his eating habits. Roy answered Ted’s question though, “No.” “See. I bet you can remember their names.” “Sure. I know all of ‘em, and I know what they order when they’re at Lloyd’s.” “I bet that you’d never find two Humans sitting in garbage cans during a rain storm, and ya wouldn’t ever find them sleepin’ in the rain.” Ted seemed to change the subject again. Roy thought for a moment and then concluded that the statement was correct. “Uh huh.” Ted yawned. “Speaking of which, I’m goin’ ta sleep. See ya tomorrow.” “Okay, I gotta stay up and watch the building.” Ted shrugged, and then settled down to sleep, the garbage can rocking slightly as Ted shifted his weight around. Once Ted stopped moving, Roy sat and watched the door, listening to the hypnotic rain drops against his roof. 1107 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He began to doe off himself. Roy woke up a few hours later. The rain had stopped. Roy stared up into the blackness. He hoped that he hadn’t missed anything, but doubted that anyone would be entering or leaving the warehouse during the night. Sleeping until morning sounded like a good idea. Roy didn’t want to let Mike down by letting anyone get past his watch, so Roy got out and rolled his garbage can in front of the door. If anyone came in or out of the warehouse, they’d have to move the garbage can, waking up Roy. Ted woke up briefly, saw Roy rolling his can, and lay his head down. Roy got back into his shelter and let himself nod off.
HISTORY OF THIS BOOK (YES, THIS IS RELEVANT) This is a fantasy book that happens to have races which physically resemble offplanet non-hominid races. It isn’t my best writing, but you might enjoy it.
A historical note:
1989 – While at Caltech, I created this fantasy world to be used for faceto-face role-playing games, like Dungeons & Dragons. I avoided Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and Orcs by using anthro races.
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November 12, 2011 1990 – I took a creative-writing class at Caltech and wrote the first few chapters of this book, based on my game world.
1993 – I finished the book a few years after starting work at Microsoft. I didn’t think it was good enough, so I let it gather dust on my hard drive.
1999 – The Ferazi were originally humanoid rabbits. When I arrived in Australia in 1999. I realized that the Ferazi weren’t rabbit-descended, but were humanoid wallaroos (with a completely different personality to the real ones).
2006 – I decided to use the world as a basis for my currently-unfinished multiplayer interactive-fiction game. I added the Zeen (Tasmania tiger) and Possum races. (http://www.CircumReality.com)
2008-2009 – I was abducted (by aliens) while I was wearing a Zeen promotional T-shirt for my unfinished game. It was a particularly chilly dry-season night, and the T-shirt kept me warm. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbduction.pdf)
2010 – Since I began working on disclosure stories, I undusted the book, edited it, and released it.
THWACK! Ned opened his closet door, and pushed aside his assorted collection of shirts and pants; they were all virtually identical to one another in color and general design. He squeezed into the small room as far as he could go. Someplace in the back of his closet was his hunting gear, buried beneath all of the other junk. Regretfully, Ned hadn't been hunting for at least half a year. Whenever he’d get a tip from John or Bob that a hunt was on, something would always come up. His mother's birthday stopped Ned from joining one hunt, an extra long day at work another, and 1109 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the flu nixed yet another. Ned would finally get to hunt tonight, this one organized by himself. Ned got to make the plans. Groping in the closet corner, Ned’s hand found a sack. It was his dirty laundry. Ned set that aside. He picked up another sack, this time his winder clothing. The next object that his hands fumbled into was something he'd need for the hunt, a large dagger, almost a short-sword. Ned unsheathed it to check its condition. This baby had cost Ned nearly five hundred dollars, and its quality was worth every penny. Too bad he didn’t get enough of a chance to use it. There wasn't any rust – that was good. The bleeding groove had some dried blood in it, left from his last foray – Ned would have to clean it better this time. The blade was still sharp and unchipped; he hadn't used it against armor for awhile. Ned threw the dagger on his bed and groped for another sack. He found what he was looking for; it was big and heavy. Using his feet, Ned pushed the other two bags of clothes back into his closed, and shut the door. Ned hauled the hunting sack over to his bed and dumped its contents in one large clump. A few Ferazi ears fluttered from the bottom of the sack when he shook it clean. Picking up the ears, Ned reminisced about the hunts where he’d earned them, reminiscing on the people in the hunts, some of whom had left town or had been killed by the Roos since then. Damn. He hated the Ferazi for killing his friends. Ned put the ears back into the bag. From the pile of hunting stuff, Ned pulled out his skinning knife. Drawing it halfway from its sheath to inspect it, Ned noticed some blood he hadn’t cleaned up, but it remained in good working condition. Ned sheathed the blade and sat it by his dagger. 1110 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At the bottom of the pile was some rope, which Ned freed from the pile. Using his arm, he coiled up the rope, counting the number of turns as he did so. Six. When he had first purchased the rope, it was a full seventeen, but every hunt shaved a little bit off its length. Ned would have to remember to buy a new rope before the next hunt, or he might not be able to hang up the roo pelt in the Ferazi ghettos, ruining half the fun. All that remained of Ned’s pile, was his leather shirt. He surveyed it for any flaws which might allow a glancing weapon to get though. It had a few gashes and some claw marks, but they only scratched the surface. Nothing had actually penetrated since that time he'd been hunting in the south of town, and he patched hole already. Ned pulled off his shirt and put the armor on. It wasn't comfortable. Just in case the city guard saw him, Ned found a baggy shirt and pulled it shirt over his armor so it wasn’t visible. The guard wouldn't care that he was roo hunting, but they might wrongly suspect him of mugging someone. The shirt-covered armor made Ned look fifteen kilos heavier, and a hell of a lot more muscular than he really was. Ned returned to his bed, and stowed the dagger, skinning knife, and rope back into his sack. He tied up its drawstring, and slung it over his shoulder. The rendezvous with the rest of the gang was at Curt's. His apartment was closer to the one-eared Roo’s place… and Ned’s parents lived only a few doors down. He didn’t want them seeing what he was doing. They would disagree with his ethics, but his mother would worry about him. Ned’s father didn't like to see his wife worrying. Though his father most-certainly suspected something, helping Ned pay for his dagger, Ned doubted that his mother even knew of the hunts. Double-checking that he had his armor, rope, knife, and dagger, Ned walked out of his apartment, and down the stairs into the street. The only major item missing for the hunt was the group's crossbow. Jeth was keeping it to train up on it. His room’s walls probably had hundreds of crossbow-bolt holes in them by now. Ned hoped that most of the holes were well-centered around the bulls-eye Curt had drawn on his wall.
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November 12, 2011 Curt's apartment was only five minutes’ walk away. He lived in a small apartment above a seamstress shop, renting it from an old bat. Ned and Curt often spent their nights playing cards there, or just shooting the breeze. Their visits would end when the hag beat her broomstick handle on her ceiling, chastising Ned and Curt to shut up. They’d occasionally stomp-back a retort, but Curt wasn't willing to give his landlady too much shit. If he really pissed her off, she'd raise the rent, and Curt would be forced to find someplace else, something he wasn't willing to do. The bat was strict about quiet times, but her rent was cheap. The apartment was in fairly good shape, except the staircase which squeaked so much that Ned thought it'd collapse, and the new crossbow-bolt holes in the wall. Ned hoped that curt had remembered to put a light up top so that he could see as he walked up the dark staircase. After taking several left and right turns, Ned arrived at the hag’s shop and opened the door to Curt’s stairwell. Of course, it was pitch black. Curt hadn’t even bothered to leave his apartment’s door open. “Hey curt!” yelled Ned. “I need a light!” No response. “Curt! I know you’re up there. Bring out a god-damn light!” Ned heard the witch yell at him from inside, but didn’t decipher any words. Curt didn't open his door. He must was doing this on purpose, just to piss of Ned. Two could play at that game. Ned started up the stairs, stomping as loudly as he could on the steps, regardless of their rotted strength. By the time Ned had reached the fifth step, Curt's door opened on top of the landing, about six steps above. “Hey, don’t walk up the stairs so hard.” said Curt. “You're gonna get the ha.. landlady pissed.”
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November 12, 2011 “She already is,” joked Ned as he walked up a few more steps. At least now he could see the steps’ edges. He felt them bend under his weight. “Well why didn’t you wait for me to open the door.” “I did fuck-head.” “About ten seconds,” complained Curt. “Jeth and Marty are up here and I can’t just abandon them in mid-sentence.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, asshole.” Ned reached the top. “Hey,” said Jeth. “Howdy Ned,” added Marty. The two were sitting at Curt’s card table and drinking some beer. All three, Curt, Jeth, and Marty looked like they had their armor on; they were a bit buff. A few sacks, obviously containing weapons, sat by the door. “What’re you girls doing,’ asked Ned in good humor. “Having tea? Have ya got everything ready?” “We’re all set,” replied Curt from behind Ned. He closed the door. Ned surveyed the bags, searching for the one with the crossbow. “Where’s the poker?” he asked. Marty gave Jeth a knowing look, as if he had won a bet. Jeth put on a humble look. Pause. Ned began to expect some bad news. He hoped that Jeth hadn't broken the crossbow. “Well Nedy-boy,” answered Jeth, “I loaned it to Garth.” Ned froze, and blinked twice in stunned amazement. “You what?” 1113 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I let Garth borrow it last week.” “But why? No, never mind that. Where's Garth?” “He’s coming.” “But where is he?” “Don’t worry. I talked to him earlier today. He’ll be here.” Ned couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Actually, he could. He just didn’t want to believe it. “You gave the crossbow to that psycho! He’s probably out shooting cats with it.” “Actually,” joked Marty, “he’s wandering the town terrorizing the local kids.” Ned frowned and ignored the joke. “How many bolts did you give him?” “Only two,” answered Jeth. “Were they hunting tips or just for target?” “Target. I’m not that stupid,” Jeth said, eyes glancing at Ned’s feet. “You do realize that without the crossbow we don’t hunt.” Ned was very serious. “Don’t worry,” said Jeth. Jeth was always too calm. “Garth’ll be here within half an hour. I guarantee it.” “He’d better.” punctuated Ned. Ned gave Jeth half a minute of “the silence treatment” before Marty interrupted and attempted to change the subject. “So Ned-buddy, Curt here was gonna tell me about yer con-ver-sa-tion, if you know what I mean, with the goon. But, seeing as you’re here, I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth. What d’ ya say?” Ned was pissed off at the moment, but there wasn’t anything he could do except wait for Garth to show up with the crossbow… intact. Telling Marty about the trouble he had to go through to find the one-eared roo would pass the time. 1114 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Okay,” said Ned. He searched around for a chair to sit on. “I’ll tell you.” Ned grabbed the nearest chair and sat down, with the chair back reversed between his legs. Ned began his story: “You’ve known me for awhile. I'm a nice guy, right?” “Well...” answered Marty jokingly. Hand held forward in meek protestation. “I may talk tough, and I might bully someone around occasionally, but I’m a very religious guy, and wouldn’t hurt anyone.” “True,” pontificated Marty. “Well, now let me tell you. The day after the Roo came into Lloyd’s, I cornered Mike and started up with some idle chat. I told him that my great-grandfather was in the war, and that he was skinned alive by the Roos.” Everyone listened. “I asked him if he had any ancestors who were in the war. He said ‘Yes’. ‘Well, then,’ I asked him, ‘were any of them murdered by Roos?’ He said ‘Yes’ again." Ned applied the appropriate pause. “’Well then, ‘ I said, ‘it appears we have something in common.’ Good natured like, I grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, man to man.” “Oh, how touching,” mocked Marty as he held back a fake tear. “I proceeded to talk to Mike, in all earnestness, about what the Roos were up to, about how we were still at war with them, just like I would to my best friend.” Another dramatic pause. “He’s quiet during this whole speech. When I get done, and think that I’ve got him on my side, I start asking about the one-eared Roo, and saying how dangerous it is, and how it has to be taken care of, just like a dog with rabies. I even told him what kind of
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November 12, 2011 danger he was in. And just when I’m at the pinnacle of my speech, I asked him where it lived.” Ned paused and looked around ominously. “And you know what? The fuckin’ goon wouldn’t tell me. He said, and I quote, ‘Shaj isn’t dangerous.’” “So,” asked Marty, imitating a crime-boss’s accent, “You pushed him around a bit, gave him a few slaps, tied a rock around his neck, and then threw him into the ocean?” “I felt like it,” Ned Paused to think, “but as I said earlier, I’m a nice guy, so very calm and cool, I told him that he could talk to me at any time if he wished, and I walked off without touching a hair.” Ned’s expression hardened. “So how’d you find out where the Roo lives?” asked Marty. “Did he come to you latter and fess up.” “Nope, didn't say a thing. As a matter of fact, I didn't see him at Lloyd’s yesterday or today.” Ned paused while he changed subjects. “I’ve got contacts. Do you remember Bob?” “Yes-sir-ree. He’s the Brotherhood’s Dragon on the west side.” “I stopped by for a visit at Bob’s and asked him if he knew anything about a oneeared Ferazi. D’ you know what he said? He and his guys have been watching that thing for some time now. One-eared Roos stick out, and are dangerous because they’ve been hunted before, and lived. Well, he was making plans to take care of it, and he knew exactly where it lived. I told him that if he’d point me to its warren I’d ferret it out and cut off its other ear, along with its head. Bob entrusted yours-truly with the task of eliminating it, and told me where it lives and what times its home.” “Ned-baby, you’re moving up in the world,” congratulated Marty. “I have plans.” Self-congratulating smirk. “Anyway, I know where the Roo is, and I know that he’s always home at this time of night.” 1116 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned looked around. “So where’s the fucker, Garth?” Ned wondered if Garth would show up. Ned hoped that he wouldn’t have to go find Garth at his house just to get the crossbow from him. Without the crossbow, Ned would have to call off tonight’s hunt. There was no way he was going after a once-hunted Ferazi with nothing but a few knives and clubs. He had to get that crossbow from Garth. Where was the bastard? Ned got up and paced over to the door, opened it, and looked down the stairs. He didn't know what he expected to see in the pitch-black staircase. Dismayed that he hadn’t seen Garth trudging up the stairs with the crossbow, Ned closed the door. Ned wondered how long he should wait before stomping over to Garth’s place and wrenching the bow from Garth’s hands. Ned didn’t have to go anywhere. Ned turned away from the closed door and walked towards the table. He heard the door creak open behind him. It have crept open on its own accord. Not quite. Ned felt a knife-point jab into his back, and heard Garth’s crazed voice behind him. “Thought I was the Roo?” obviously mocking Ned. Garth must have snuck up the stairs. Garth had done this before. Not knowing what knife was jokingly pointed into his back, Ned turned his head slowly around and looked behind to see what Garth’s knife was doing. “Shit!” yelled Ned, when noticed it wasn’t a knife. The group’s loaded crossbow was poking a loaded bolt into his back. Instantaneously, Ned jumped out of the way. 1117 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That made matters worse. Ned now stood facing Garth, whose crossbow was pointed directly at Ned. Garth had a crazed grin on his face, but he lowered the bow. “What tha fuck are you doing!” yelled Ned. Garth shrugged slightly, and raised his eyebrows. “Just havin’ a little fun!” “Fun! You could have fuckin’ shot me!” Garth’s eyebrows lowered. I still can. He smirked. The crossbow began to swerve towards Ned. “Gimme the crossbow,” commanded Ned in a reasonably-nice manner. He held out his hands so that Garth could place the bow right into them. Garth’s grin broadened. “Nooooo.” he annunciated, as he rotated the bow slightly towards Ned. Ned stepped aside to avoid the point. “Hey, look over there!” yelled a shocked-sounding Ned. Everyone looked, including Garth. Suckers! Ned grabbed the crossbow from Garth to wrench it from Garth's hands. Thwack! Clink. Thump! Crash! The crossbow went off. An instant later, the bolt was impaled into the corner-wall to where Ned had pointed… and where everyone was looking. Pete’s beer-mug fell off the table and broke.
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November 12, 2011 As near as Ned could figure, without actually have been able to see the bolt’s path, the bolt had flown right between Pete and Jeth, and then into the wall. Pete and Jeth dropped their jaws and went pale. Garth began giggling. Garth relaxes his grip on the crossbow, allowing Ned to wrench it as far away from Garth. Everyone stared at the half-embedded bolt, except for Garth, who was now giggling and rolling on the floor. “Shut up!” yelled Ned. He kicked Garth in the stomach. Garth stopped laughing instantly, and sat up, painting a dejected look on his face. “What the fuck did you do that for!” yelled Ned at Garth. Not waiting for a response, Ned turned to Jeth, who was still looking at the bolt. “And that’s what you get for letting Garth borrow the frigging crossbow! Target tips my ass!” Everyone was quiet for a good minute. Ned handed the disarmed crossbow to Curt and walked over to the embedded crossbow bolt. He wiggled it around a bit, and then pulled it out along with a clump of plaster. Ned cleared away the debris from the sharpened double-blade, and held it right in front of Jeth’s face. “Fuckin’ hunting tips. Don’t ever give him,” Ned pointed an accusing finger towards Garth, “the crossbow again.” He handed the bolt to Curt, who put it in a bag along with the crossbow. The bolt wouldn’t be much good now. Ned stomped to the door, picked up his bag, and grunted, “Come on. We’ve got ta do some Roo hunting.”
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November 12, 2011 He walked down the dark and creaking stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, Ned could hear the others following. Ned marched out the door and into the street to await them. God damn fucking stupid idiots! His friends’ cautious footsteps made their way down. Ned quickly mapped a route to the Ferazi's place. It didn't live far away, perhaps two kilometers from Curt’s place, in a Ferazi ghetto that the brotherhood called “the small warren”. The few Ferazi who lived in the city, perhaps numbering several hundred, always lived together in ghettos. They were in the worst parts of the city, where the rents were cheapest, and where landlords were willing to rent to the enemy. The largest ghetto, containing about two-thirds of the Roos was at the southern tip of town, and referred to as “The Emperor’s warren”. The other ghetto, where the one-eared roo lived, was much smaller. Ned didn’t know why two ghettos existed, instead of only one. Ned didn’t even know why one ghetto existed. Seriously, why were the Ferazi let in Inviroth? Ned (and Bob) assumed politics, most-likely part of the treaty. As for the Ferazi, they had “nefarious” reasons for being in Inviroth. No one knew exactly why the Ferazi were around, but people had suspicions... Most of the Ferazi in Inviroth were adult males. Almost all of the Ferazi that the Brotherhood had gone after had turned out to be adept fighters, too. Curt, the last one outside, closed the door. 1120 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned led the group towards The Small Warren, first making a right onto Gilbert’s boulevard, left onto Holley, which turned into Maple, and then onto The Old Forest Road. Ned followed the road East for a kilometer, and took a left onto a road whose name he didn't know. He made a few more turns learned from previous hunts, and led the group into the center of The Small Warren. The streets were deserted. The only light came from the moon. Bob had provided Ned instructions to follow from here, leading a street or two to the north, and right to a shop-turned-apartment on the first floor. They reached their destination. Ned slowed down to walk in a group with his four followers. Whispering, “We’re here. Get your gear [weapons] ready.” Garth let out a slight giggle before cupping his mouth with his own hand. He his hand there for a second, closed it into a fist with his forefinger protruding against his lips, and went “Shhhhh”. Ned decided that he wouldn’t bring Garth on the next hunt. He also decided that he never wanted to see Garth again. Psycho. Curt pulled the crossbow from a sack. He leaned it against the ground, bent over it, and pulled the crossbow string back until it locked. Curt loaded one bolt into the crossbow. He then pulled out another four bolts, clasped one with his teeth, and gave the other three to Jeth, Pete, and Garth. With a backup bolt each, any of them could grab the crossbow and fire it. Jeth and Garth pulled out a club. Pete unsheathed his dagger. Ned pulled his dagger out of his bag and superstitiously checked the blade to make sure that it was still sharp. 1121 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned crept over to the Roo’s door, waiting nervously for Curt to follow behind him with the loaded crossbow. Garth and Marty followed. Curt raised the bow and aimed it the center of the door, chest height. All of the group’s members were well-versed in “the hunt”. Ferazi were awake during the morning and evening hours. They slept around noon, and during most of the night. They were usually asleep by midnight, the current time. Once the door was kicked down and the Roo startled awake, it would grab its weapon. They either leapt out the window and attacked the hunters from behind… or ran. Or, they would charge blindly through the door. Being on the first floor, this apartment had no sizable windows. The one-eared roo would have to charge the door. Quickly examining the door, Ned planned on two kicks of the door, and then a second later the beast would be charging out. Ned would have to duck. Curt would have to mortally wound it on the first shot, duck aside, and load another bolt. During this time, Ned, Jeth, Pete, and Garth would keep Curt from being attacked by encircling the Ferazi. When Curt managed to reload the bow, he’d yell. Everyone would back away, and Curt would finish off the Roo. If Curt, for whatever reason, was disabled, one of the others would grab and load the crossbow with their bolt, and fire. The team would ideally have two crossbows, but Ned couldn’t round up another one. Ready. Ned looked at everyone to make sure they were in position. He stepped back and kicked the door at the latch height. It gave way only slightly. Damn! Ned kicked again, pushing the door in a few centimeters. 1122 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It failed to fly open; its bar was still holding. Fuck! Ned imagined the Roo waking up and grabbing its sword. Ned made one final kick and the door burst open. Ned jumped aside, and fell to the ground on his butt. Curt stood motionless in front of the opened doorway, holding his finger against the trigger. He peered inside, simultaneously awaiting the Ferazi’s charge. It never came. Ned got up. Wary of a trap, Ned whispered to Pete to light a candle; he should have left the task to Garth. Pete already had candle and matches in his pockets. He struck a match and lit the candle. Ned took charge of the lit candle, and extended his arm into the doorway so the candle lit the room as much as possible… while most of Ned’s body remained safely outside. The small, windowless room was empty of everything except a straw bed and some rubbish piled in the corner. The Ferazi was gone, or had never been there. Either Ned had been extremely unlucky, or the goon had tipped off his Roo. That could explain why Mike had not been seen. They could have... The floor above Ned creaked. Above, something heavy took another step. Ned heard the jingling of coins. Or was it chainmail? 1123 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shit! Ned turned around. He noticed that several lights inside the surrounding buildings had been lit. Silhouetted heads were looking out the windows. Were they Ferazi? Most likely. Fuck! “C’mon guys, we’ve got ta get out ta here,” commanded Ned. “Huh?” asked Curt, who was still concentrating on the empty room. He hadn’t noticed that the neighborhood was awake. Just then, the door on the landing above squeaked open. Ned didn’t wait to see what came out. He dropped the candle, and ran as fast as he could away from The Small Warren, taking any street and any diversionary turn that he could find. Ned couldn’t sprint for long, loaded down with armor. After a few minutes, he stopped in front of the mouth of an alley. He didn’t know where he was and didn’t particularly care. He waited for rest to catch up. First curt. Then Pete. Followed by Jeth. And after a few more seconds, Garth. “Was anything following you?” asked Ned to Jeth and Garth. “No,” said a breathless Jeth. 1124 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Garth was too winded to giggle. He merely nodded his head, no. “Good. Everyone get in here,” directed Ned as he pushed them all into the alley. He followed them in, and then led them to the back. “Against the wall, and stay quiet,” commanded Ned. Everyone obeyed. Putting away his dagger, Ned took the loaded crossbow from Curt and stationed himself at the mouth of the alley. Standing flat against the wall, he watched the direction from which they had come. Ned had been in this situation before. A group he was with before hadn’t managed to kill a Roo in time. All of the Ferazi knew about the nightly hunts. They were extremely cautious at night, always keeping an ear half-cocked, just in case they heard anything strange outside, as any wild animal would. Beginning with the first door-kick, a hunting team only had about twenty seconds before nearby Roos would wake up, taken up arms, and run out of their apartments prepared to surround and massacre the hunters. Twenty seconds was almost always enough to kill the Roo, with another ten to off its ears. Ideally, the Roo’s skin would be removed and hung, but this only happened if the beast was caught away from the protection of the warren. Something ran around the corner and onto the street which Ned’s alley hung off. It may have come from the same intersecting road they had, but Ned wasn’t sure. He had picked directions at random. The thing ran past Ned and his alley without even stopping, just a blurred shadow. Ned listened to the running footsteps as they travelled past his hiding place. They turned. And then fell silent. 1125 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This time, at a walking pace, the footsteps crunching quietly against the pebbled road with each step, the beast retraced its path... … towards Ned. The steps approached. Ned did his best to quiet is labored breathing. Crap this was fun! The Ferazi shadow, walking down the center of the road, loped into view. It carried a wrist sword in its right hand. Ned slowly lifted up the crossbow. Took aim. He was ready to fire. The roo, ceasing its walk, straightened up. It turned its head towards Ned. Ned pressed the trigger. Thwack! Chink! Thump! A hit? The Roo dropped its sword, took two steps forward, and then fell down. Ned waved to the group, who had already come forward. He forgot to load in a new bolt. Ned crept into the street, ready to finish the animal off if it wasn’t already dead.
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November 12, 2011 When he reached the body, he found himself in front of a prostate Roo, lying on its side. It was facing Ned and moving slightly. Ned circled around to the back of the creature so that he could save a bolt, and use his dagger to make the killing blow from a much saver vantage point, away from the Ferazi’s sword and claws. Just when Ned was about to release double-grip of the crossbow and unsheathe his knife, the creature raised itself with its arms. It grabbed its sword, and stood up, facing Ned. Fuck! Piss! Shit! The Ferazi had a bolt sticking out of its shoulder. Ned took aim. Crap! No bolt! The Roo lifted its sword. Ned, with nothing left to do but bluff, raised his empty crossbow and aimed it right at the roo, pretending to get an accurate aim. Luckily, the beast thought the crossbow was loaded. It swung around, and ran away from Ned at full speed, straight into the alley where Ned’s (former) friends were hiding.
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November 12, 2011 Ned heard a thump as something hit the far wall, hopefully the Roo, and then a few utterances of “Shit!”, “Damn!”, and “Yikes!” before Curt, Jeth, Pete, and Garth tore out of the alley and huddled behind Ned. “Shoot it!” half-screamed Curt. “I can’t,” whispered Ned through his teeth. “Why not?” Curt quieted down. “I don’t have another fuckin’ bolt.” “Oh!” Pete handed Ned a bolt. “Here ya go!” Ned angled the crossbow to the ground, pulled up the string, loaded the bolt, and reaimed it into the darkness. “Where is it?” whispered Ned. “It ran into the wall,” replied Jeth. Just then, Ned heard a garbage can tip over at the end of the alley. Some footsteps. A few more cans got bumped. “I think the alley’s a dead end.” said Pete. “So then it can’t get away from us,” muttered Ned to himself. There was a scraping sound at the end of the alley, and then a loud garbage-can crash. A few second later this repeated. And again. “What the fuck is ’t doing?” asked Curt. 1128 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “I dunno,” said Jeth. “I think it’s trying to jump up and climb out,” said Marty. “Fuck! It’s gonna attract more god-damn Roos. We’ve got ta go in there.” Ned slowly walked into the alley. The roo occasionally fell on a garbage can. Half way down the alley, Ned could see the shadow of the roo crouch down, and jump up towards a window-sill. It was too high for its hands to latch a hold of. “Why aren’t you shooting?” asked Jeth. “Cause it won’t stop moving so that I can aim.” “Here,” said Jeth, ‘give it to me.” Ned gave the crossbow to Jeth, who took aim, waited for the Roo to land, and fired. Thwack! The Ferazi never jumped again. No one moved for a few seconds. “I get an ear,” said Jeth. He took his own bolt out, and loaded it into the crossbow. Jeth walked cautiously up to the body, and shot it again to make sure. This time a bolt punctured the Roo’s skull. Jeth kicked it. Nothing. He kicked it again. 1129 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Nothing. One really-really hard kick. The Roo didn’t move. Jeth put down the crossbow, pulled out his dagger, and cut off an ear. Ned followed up, claiming the other ear as a prize. Keeping a watch for more Ferazi, the group worked in the alley until dawn. They left a headless carcass sitting in the alley. Its pelt hanging above, held by the last of Ned’s rope. Just for kicks, the five hunters passed through The Small Warren on their way home, hands bloodied.
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November 12, 2011
IN DEREK HALFSTAR’S FOOTSTEPS Chris sat on his bed, his back propped up against its headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. A few pillows cushioned his back. John, always the proper one, sat on the room’s only chair, propped up against the closed bedroom door. Dan, having found nowhere to sit when he arrived, leaned against a wall. Mid-way along wall to Dan’s left was the room’s only window, open. The cool nightbreeze entered, circled around the room, and played with the candle’s flame, causing the only light in the room to waver and flicker at key points. The candle rested near the edge of Chris’ impeccably clean desk. A row of thirty or forty books stood propped up on its surface. One of the books was out, illuminated by the candle, ready to be opened and quoted. “What ‘da we do now?” asked Dan, who felt completely frustrated. John’s sarcasm and Chris’ fantasy weren’t helping. “You’ve already got half the bartenders in Inviroth thinking that you’re crazy,” commented John, “so why not just let the other half in on the secret.” “No way,” said Dan, holding up his hands to push away the comment. “I’m not going to any more bars and asking if they know of anyone who needs to hire adventurers. I’ve been doing it for two months and haven’t gotten anything but stares and jokes thrown at me.” “Don’t forget about the damsels in distress,” added John sarcastically. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Dan smiled. No one spoke for a moment. “So what da we do?” asked Dan again, this time looking at Chris to avoid yet another quip from John. “There’s always the posters,” answered Chris, in his usually soft and meek voice. Dan had never heard Chris speak louder than a loud whisper. In all of the years he had known Chris, even when they played together as children, Dan had never heard Chris 1131 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 yell or scream. When Dan was a teenager, he had tried several times to coax Chris into yelling, but Chris was always too shy to yell out. “Get real,” broke in John. “I thought we killed that months ago. Whose gonna read them?” “There’re lots of people that can read,” responded Chris. “No way,” smirk. “Of all the people I know, only you and my cousin can read.” Dan wished John would turn down the cynicism. He tried to stop things before they got worse. “John, we don’t want to get hired by anyone you know.” Dan smiled to show that it was a joke. “It’s those people up on the hill, the rich ones, who we need to get hired by.” “The idea sucks anyhow,” punctuated John. “Then what’s the alternative?” asked Dan. “How the hell should I know,” was the only answer he got back. “Then THINK of something.” “Why? It doesn’t matter anyway.” John’s attention wandered. Dan began to get pissed off. He was tired of John’s apathy and continual goading. “It does to me. I just spent twelve hours today hauling around crates and packages from one shop keeper to another, back and forth along the same routes every day. I did that yesterday, the day before, and have been doing it since I was twelve. If I stay in Inviroth I’m gonna be doing that for the rest of my life, just like my father.” “That sure as hell beats working for Leeland Maplethorp the third, or whatever number his is, and listening to his nagging all day.” “You're right. So why don’t you do something to get away? Or do you want to be yelled at and derided the rest of your life?” John huffed. “When I get sick of him I’ll find another job.” 1132 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan frowned. “I wish I could. My father has been hauling junk his entire life, and if I stay here I’m gonna be doing the exact same stuff. It’s now or never, because every day I get more and more stuck. Jenny’s pushing me to get married, and one of these days I’ll end up with kids. Then I can’t do anything except keep on working to support them. After that I’ll wait sixteen years until they leave home and then I’ll be too old and broken to do anything except kick my mule around and get it to haul my packages. It’s exactly what my father’s doing.” “Calm down, geeze! I was just playing around. Seriously, I don’t know what else we can do.” Chris interrupted, his voice much quieter than Dan and John’s. “There isn’t anything else that we can do. I don’t want to stock shelves for ever either, you know.” Chris added: “We could try joining the military.” “Fuck that,” said John. “You’d get kicked out because of some argument you’d end up having with your commander, Dan had that broken leg, and I don’t meet weight restrictions. So what else is there?” No one answered. “We could just leave Inviroth and hunt as we go up the coast, sleeping outside.” “No way,” said Dan. “We’d get arrested for poaching sooner or later. Some people even hang for that. The world just isn’t like Derik Halfstar wrote.” “Then, if we need money, then we have to earn it.” “Not with my job,” complained John. “It’d take me years to get enough for a horse.” “So we’ve been through the same stuff before.” Dan reiterated other possible solutions: “The only other ways to get money are to steal it – which we aren’t gonna do – or go to work for ourselves. And we’ve tried that, and no one wants to hire us.”
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November 12, 2011 “Look. “ Chris defending his idea. “All we did was talk to some bartenders and ask around to see if they had heard of any investigation jobs. We now know that’s not gonna work.” “Sure has hell didn’t work,” responded Dan. “We’ve gotta advertise. And the only way to do that is by hanging up some notices.” John returned to an old point, “But whose gonna read them? We’re back to the same old problem. Not enough people read.” “But all of the people on the hill can read, or have someone who does their reading,” Chris pointed out. The conversation was circling back on itself. “Fine,” stated john, “but even if we get our messages read, who’s gonna hire some inexperienced ‘adventurers’ and ‘investigators’? Forget that, who’s gonna hire them with experience? The days of Derek Halfwit are gone! Hell, they were never there, just imaginations of a half-baked writer.” “He was real,” Chris said calmly. “There’s plenty of historical documents from the time saying that he existed.” “Yeah, he existed all right, but none of his stories are true. They’re all just made up.” “Quit it!” commanded Dan. “Look, Chris, even if we do put up signs, what are we gonna write? If we say that we’re swords for hire then we’ll have the police on us so fast that we won’t even know we’ve been arrested.” “We can write up the notes so that they say that.” “That we want to be arrested?” added John. “No.” Chris was getting angry. “And what are we gonna say then?” asked Dan.
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November 12, 2011 “How about just saying that we solve mysteries and crimes.” John, cynical as usual, “And we just happen to have swords and leather armor to aid our investigation skills.” “No,” emphasized Chris. “How about just saying that we’re skilled in combat should the need arise.” “Too close to saying that we’re hired mercenaries,” reiterated Dan. “Okay then,” countered Chris. “We are capable of providing for your defense. After all, there are lots of security companies around who provide defense.” “We don’t know about any of those things, by the way.” John went on, “The only reason we’re worth hiring is that we’re so desperate that we’ll do anything.” “Sounds about right,” smiled Dan. Chris continued, “But, we don’t have to tell them that. If we mess up then we just don’t get paid. No one’ll mind.” “Or killed, or arrested,” added Dan. He wasn’t seriously objecting. Potentially being killed or arrested beat hauling crap for the rest of his life. “I still think it’s crazy,” said john. “Yeah, it is. But what’s the choice? If we don’t do this then we're all gonna go crazy.” Dan didn’t want to haul junk for the rest of his life. “So you’re still in then?” asked Chris. Did the subject just change? “Hell, why not,” said John. “I’m in,” chimed-in Dan.
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November 12, 2011 “Good!” exclaimed Chris. He rolled out of bed and opened his desk drawer to pull out a piece of paper, pen, and inkwell. Chris un-stoppered the inkwell. He wrote some lines onto the paper, pausing occasionally to think. “How’s this?" asked Chris. “Brave adventurers for hire. Are you in trouble? Have the police ignored your pleas? Do you need someone to get you out of a tight spot? We’re the ones for you.” “Brave adventurers?” laughed John. “Are you kidding?" Dan had to agree. “John is right. That’s a bit too much to handle. How about, ‘Professional investigators’, and how about using, ‘Are the police too busy to heed your pleas?’. I don’t like the word, ‘ignore’.” Chris crossed some words out, and scribbled new bits in. “Okay then, changes made. It continues on, ‘The New-Star adventure company – changed to investigation company – is a brave group of experts with skills in combat, entry, and investigation.” “Gack!” exclaimed Dan. “Skills in defense, surveillance, and investigation.” Chris made marked up his paper and then continued. “With our professional abilities [John laughed] we are capable of solving any mystery, crime, or dilemma, and can easily provide for your defense.” “Don’t mention ‘defense’,” said Dan. Maybe drawn some weapons in the corners, art-like. John smirked. “If you’re ever in a bind, stop by our headquarters. Signed, ‘New-Star Investigation, 152 Westermen Street’.” “Hey! That’s my address.” quipped a surprised Dan. “I can’t use mine.” Chris pointed out, “My parents wouldn’t let me. You have your own apartment.” 1136 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan was trying to avoid being the first one arrested. He looked at John. “No way Dan. I’m not putting my address on there.” Potentially arrested for promoting an adventure business, or hauling carts FOREVER? “Hell, all of the bartenders think I'm crazy. Why not all of the people that can read too.” “Thanks,” said Chris. “I’ll write up fifty copies of this by tomorrow, and then you can post them up.” “Me?” asked Dan. “You’re the best choice. You already travel everywhere in the city.” “Fine.” Dan wondered what kind of shit he was going to take for this round of insanity. At least it’d be more interesting the hauling packages. “And make sure that you hang one up at Lloyd's.”
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November 12, 2011
Please don’t read any further. I have yet to proof the following text. I haven’t even read it for 17 years.
CHAPTER 8: BUGBUG - REWRITTEN
On morning after Ned had his adventures, Roy and Ted sat outside of the warehouse and watched it for Mike. Since staring blankly at a door was incredibly boring, the two had struck up a conversation. Roy leaned forward. “Wow,” said a thoroughly amazed Roy, “ya mean that you got inta the temple of Thel?” “Yes sir-ee” answered Ted confidently, confidently crossing his arms. “But I tried to get in there an’ the guard at tha entrance just picked me up n’ threw me out. I couldn’t do anything t’ get him t’ let me in.” “Yeah, that guard ‘z a bit of a stickler, but ya just have ta know how ta outwit tha man. I tried a few times ta jist walk right in, but jist like you I wuz grabbed ev’ry time.” “So what’d ya do?” “Welp, I got an idea n’ waited till a whole group o’ pilgrims were comin in ‘n one large bunch, bout twenty ov em. While they were a bit aways from tha gate, and too 1138 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 far for tha guard ta see, I snuck right inta tha middle ov em and walked right in with tha lot. Guard didn’t even stop me,” said Ted ask he acted out the scene with his hands. “But Burt told me that once he ran in past the guy on the outside but he was caught inside while he was wanderin around.” “Yup, and I would’ve been too, except that I noticed that all ‘round tha inside of tha temple’s outer wall ‘r bushes and trees - kind’ve hidin tha wall from the inside. As soon as I git inside, I made straight fer tha bushes and found myself a hidin’ spot. I jist sat right down and ate a bit o’ food which I had and then took a nap until ‘t was night time an’ tha whole place ‘z empty.” “Cool,” said Roy in amazement at the cleverness. He had never thought of doing such a thing. “It’z amazin. There ain’t no one ‘round ‘cept an occasional guard, ‘n he ain’t so hard ta hear. Now ‘t night tha outside ‘z pretty dark ‘n boring, so I didn’t get ta see any of it, but ‘t was jest a lot of trees and fountains as far as I could tell, nothin’ interestin’.” “Trees ‘r boring.” “Sure are, Roy. Anyway, I snuck inta tha temple - all ‘ve the doors - and they’re huge are left open ‘t night an’ tha whole inside ‘z lit up with torches ‘n candles. Well, when I walked inside ‘ve it I was jest amazed. It’s huge! Taller than tha tallest tree or buildin I’ve ever seen, might even be able ta fit tha castle’s keep inside. And it’s wide across, prob’ly bout, hmm, five minutes walk.” “Wow,” was all that Roy could muster. He decided then and there that next week he’d try to get into the temple. “And, it’s not jist long. It’z a perfect circle around inside with entrances ‘n all four sides, doors big enough t’ fit several horses through.” Ted illustrated the circle and doors on the ground with his fingers. “And between tha doors ‘r four smaller turrets branchin off ‘v tha main one like flower pedals, but I didn’t git a chance at em.” “Awe.” 1139 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “But even without em, tha main temple waz worth th’ wait. Tha floor, well, it’z all marble with diff’rent colors all over ta make patterns in it, like huge flower patterns ‘r picters ‘v horses ‘n other animals on tha ground. There were even a lot ov animals ‘n tha floor which I never heard of.” “Did they have an eliphant?” asked Roy with excitement. “Sure did.” “Oooo.” Roy definitely had to sneak in. Maybe he’d even try it tonight. “But tha floor wasn’t even tha most interestin’ point. All tha walls were painted with picters ‘v fancy buildings, hills, and even a castle. It looked kinda like tha one ontop of tha cliff but a lot new’r. And then, in front ‘v tha wall, all ‘round the whole temple, ‘n a circle, were hundreds ‘n hundreds of statues of men.” “Were there any Remozsh?” ask Roy. “Naw. They were all tall.” “How ‘bout any Ferazi?” “Nope, not that I recall, though I can say that I didn’t get a chance ta look at them all, there bein’ so many. Most of ‘em were heroic lookin’, of maybe kings ‘r queens, care’ing swords and shields. They were all marble and standin’ n large blocks with that writing on ‘em. I s’pose that ‘t was their names but I don’t read so I can’t tell ya much.” “I bet they had a statue of Derek Halfstar up there. Mike says that he was real famous. Did they have a statue?” “I don’ know. What’d he look like?” Roy thought for a moment. “I don’t know.” And then after a bit more. “No, wait! I think he was tall and had a mustache and one of those pointy beards.” Ted thought and remembered. “Hmm. I might ‘ve seen one like that but I’m not sure. There was too many statues ta remember.” 1140 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Oh.” “Ya know what else? Some of tha walls had paitin’s of mou’tains on ‘em which rose up onto the wall real high, some ov their peaks even reachin’ tha curved dome part. That’s how high they were, ‘bout as tall as a three story buildin’. And of course, above tha mountains was the blue sky - painted ‘v course, with a few clouds and lots o’ them big birds flyin’ around - eagles ‘r hawks ‘r somethin.” Ted looked up when he mentioned the eagles. “I thought it was all gold.” “Well it aint exactly. Tha outside of th’ dome ‘z all gold ‘ll right, but only tha very top of th’ inside ‘z. Tha gold is a small circle - well I bet it wuz huge but ‘t only seemed small - up ‘t tha very top of the dome, with tongues of fire comin’ out’ve it, kind’ve like the sun.” “Gee.” Roy had never seen fire coming from the sun. “And there was tha damnedest thing in th’ center of tha gold sun. Like I told ya, ‘t was night while I was ‘t tha temple, an’ it was lit by torches. But in th’ center of tha sun was some sort ‘v window, but it weren’t dark like a window lookin’ outside at night would be. ‘Twas bright ‘z day, right smack ‘n tha middle of tha night. Darndest thing.” “Maybe its magic?” “Magic? There ain’t no such thin’. It’z all stories that yer mother tells ya.” “But then how’d tha window have sunlight if it isn’t magic?” “I don’ know. Maybe ‘t jist had a lot o’ torches. Couldn’t ‘v been a mirror. But it aint magic! - That’s children’s stuff.” Ted paused, and then asked, “Or d’ya still believe ‘n magic?” Roy backpedaled. “No. I’m not a kid anymore. I was just wondering what ya thought it was.”
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November 12, 2011 “Well, I’ve bin all over, evin been ‘n a ship for awhile. I ain’t never seen magic, and I ‘spect I would ‘ave by now.” “You were on a ship?” Roy never knew that Ted was on a ship. “Sure was. How’d ya expect I got here from Sudheim over in th’ central empire. Ain’t no other way t’ git over here but ‘n a ship.” “Wow. I always wanted to be on a ship.” Roy imagined the excitement of traveling over the seas, avoiding sea monsters, and visiting new cities. “Well let me tell ya, it ain’t all that fun, and ‘z boring most of th’ time, jist goin up ‘n down on tha waves, and there ain’t nothin’ to look at but ocean.” “But you end up going to different places.” “Yer right about that. That’s how I got here, but I didn’t git much travelin’ in, mostly because Inviroth was tha first place tha ship stopped and by that time I wuz sick’ve travlin’.” “But a ship’s a big place.” “It’z only big from tha outside. Once yih’ve been in it fer a few days ‘t seems a lot smaller. Ya can’t go inta most ‘v a ship, only on tha deck and tha crew quarters up front. Down below ‘z all ‘v tha cargo and there ain’t no room there, and no one is let in tha captains quarters, not even humans - ‘cept the captain ‘v course.” “But then what does everyone do all day?” “Jist work - and boring too. Lloyd’s ‘z a lot more interestin’ than tha ship. Ya wake up ‘n put up tha sails, pull some ropes if th’ captain tells ya to, an’ take down tha sails at night. If there’s a storm - and there was a horrible one when I was on that boat, which was one ‘v tha reasons why I didn’t want ta go back on - then ya work as hard as yi can fer fear ‘v yer life in order ta get tha sails down and pump all tha water out’a tha ship.” “Wow! That sounds fun.” 1142 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Ah, but I forgot t’ tell ya ‘bout tha rest of tha time. Most ‘v th’ time, when it ain’t mornin’ or night or there ain’t no storm, ya spend cleanin’ tha deck ‘r watchin fer land, or somethin’ useless like that.” “Why?” Roy couldn’t understand why anyone would wash the deck. “I’m not really sure but I got ‘n idea. I think tha work ‘z ta keep tha men busy and occupied because whenever they ain’t got nothin’ t’ do they just sit around ‘n drink ‘r gamble. Ya see it’n Lloyd’s all tha time. Men stop by after work ‘n spend tha whole night drinkin’.” “That’s not right.” “Oh?” “Well, we don’t do that.” “But Roy, I was tha only Remozsh on board. Tha rest were humans. They only let me on ‘cause I did a good job’ve convincin’ tha captain that ‘ee should take me ‘n board.” “How’d ya do that?” “I gave ‘im an important tip.” Roy didn’t understand what Ted meant but he pretended to anyway. “Oh.” “Anyway, where wuz I?” “You were saying why humans drink.” “Oh yeah. It all has ta do with their poor memory. They forgit how t’ keep themselves entertained... We don’ ‘cause we’re always doin’ stuff when we’re not working, wanderin’ around and watchin’ things, lookin’ fer new places in tha city, lookin fer some good food, ‘r just plain relaxin’. Humans, they can’t remember any way t’ keep themselves entertained, so they get bored ‘n stay bored, so much so that they drink.” “But you just said that you were bored on a ship.” 1143 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yer quite right about that, but my statement still holds true. Ya see, I was so bored on tha’ ship that I decided t’ never go back. Now all them humans, they were sailors, and that’s all they did fer work, spendin’ most of their time ‘n a boat and even returnin’ t’ it after it’s docked ‘n a city. After a few days on land they forgit how much they were cursin’ while they were out ta sea, so they end up right back on it. How else could ya explain it?” “I can’t. That sounds just about right to me, except Mike. He just goes to Lloyd’s to eat, and goes home afterwards where he reads, and when he gets some time off he likes exploring just like us.” “Well, that’s an new one.” “Yeah, and just a few weeks ago me and him saw the castle up ontop the hill.” “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve been tryin ta get inta that one fer a few years. How’d ya do ‘t?” “I went with Mike. They let Mike in but when I tried to come ‘n the guards stopped me, but then Mike told the guards that I was with him and they let me ‘n.” “I always got turned away by tha guards and niver could find a way t’ sneak past ‘em. Even though the castle ‘z jest used fer show today, them guard’s ‘r a lot more perceptive than th’ ones at tha temple. So what’d ya see? What was inside tha courtyard?” “Well, the walls were really high... I mean really high, and they were made ‘v stone, just like they are in the outside. Inside tha castle ‘r a few small buildings that they wouldn’t let us in and a bunch of stalls containing shops.” “What was ‘n tha shops? Did they have any weapons fer sale or any other castlekind-‘v-things?’ “Naw,” said Roy. “They were just like the market, some clothes sellers, a few people selling food - Mike bought me a sausage-on-a-bun there. They did have some weapons in one of the towers we went into but they weren’t for sale.” 1144 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “What kind?” “I don’t know all of the names but there were swords, some spears, and some crossbows. They even had a full suit of armor and ‘t had a sword hole in it right here,” and Roy pointed to a spot just to the left of his heart. “I’m gonna have ta see that one. When did this happen?” “Supposedly it happened tha last time that tha Ferazi attacked Inviroth, several thousand years ago, and tha knight wearing that armor was the last one to die in the battle. Mike didn’t believe it.” “I didn’t know that the Ferazi ever attacked Inviroth.” “Yeah, they sure did,” said Roy, feeling proud that he knew something that Ted didn’t. “It was a long time ago, but they laid siege to the city when it first started up and was small. That’s why the castle was built, to protect the city.” “But the border ‘z a thousand miles away. There’s no way a Ferazi army ‘d get that far.” “Mike says that all ‘v the west was owned by the Ferazi and that Inviroth was built over one of their cities.” “So then what happened to them?” “I think that they got kicked out by the humans and that’s why there was the war.” “Damn humans. Do ya think they’ll ever kick us out?” “Naw. Why would they?” asked Roy. “I don’ know, but why would they git rid of tha Ferazi? Humans don’t like us very much either.” “How do you know?” asked Roy.
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November 12, 2011 “Cause they treat us diff’rent. They don’ let us go ‘n their special buildin’s like the castle ‘n temple, and they only let’s do certain jobs, and they don’t pay us ‘z much. Have ya ever had a human invite yi into his home?” “Well, Mike...” “Besides Mike?” “Well, no.” “Ya see. Humans get invited into each other’s homes all ‘v tha time. They don’t do that t’ Remozsh ‘r Ferazi... except Mike. They don’t like us and don’t want us around.” “Oh.” Roy didn’t know how to answer the charge against humans. It seemed perfectly correct. “Never mind that. Let’s get back to tha castle story. Were there any catapults?” “Yeah, there was one ontop of one of tha towers. It was so big that I could sit in it. Mike said that it could fling me part way through the city.” “Did ya try?” asked Ted jokingly. “Naw. They wouldn’t let me. Anyhow, the catapult hadn’t been fired for a few hundred years so it prob’ly didn’t work no more.” “Well did ya git inside tha keep?” Scrape. “Hold it, what’s that?” said Roy. He heard some sounds coming from inside the warehouse. Although he couldn’t identify the initial sounds, he heard the familiar footsteps. “I hear ‘em. Let’s hide.”
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November 12, 2011 Both Ted and Roy stood up and left their observation point just opposite the warehouse door They walked out of the alley, stood off to the left, and waited for someone to leave. The two had gone through these maneuvers twice already since starting their watch a few days ago. Each time, the same man with light blond hair and fairly well to-do clothing came out of the warehouse, and went off on an errand. Roy followed the man the first time when he walked down to the market and bought some food and beer, at least a week or two’s worth by Roy’s estimate. The welldressed man then hauled the food back to the warehouse. The second time, Ted wanted to follow, so he trailed the man down towards the dock where the man met with a captain of a ship, went on board, and then several minutes later disembarked and returned right back to the warehouse. He always returned and disappeared into the warehouse. Both times Roy and Ted ventured enough bravery to enter the warehouse a few minutes after the man had disappeared through the door, but they never found him or any trace of where he had gone. They even checked around the entire warehouse for entrances and exits but could not find any that had been used. Roy and Ted told Mike about both of these happenings as soon as he could be found. Mike even had Ted show him which ship the man had visited. Intrigued by the man’s disappearance into the warehouse, Mike asked that the exits and entrances be watched more carefully. He suggested that some sort of mark be put on them to indicate if they had been opened or not, perhaps a stick leaning at an angle against the exit; The stick would fall down if anyone opened the door or window. Roy and Ted did this, monitoring the windows and doors every hour but the sticks had remained in exactly the same position since they were put up. Roy’s belief in magic strengthened more and more as no one ever came out of the warehouse, even though Ted and Mike insisted that magic did not exist and that the man must be getting in and out of the warehouse somehow. The sticks were supposed to show where he entered, but they never did. It must have been magic. This time would show all since it was the first time that someone had come through the door since the sticks were placed. Since it was Roy’s turn to follow him, Roy would get to see where the man went -- if it was the same one -- and Ted would go 1147 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 around the whole building checking all of the sticks to see how the man had entered. Of course, Roy could not understand why the man would enter the building and then leave out another door, but Ted suggested that there must be something important in the warehouse, such as a treasure chest that they had not seen in their hasty search. Unfortunately, neither of them had enough courage to stay too long in the warehouse, Roy fearing some sort of magic -- which Ted and Mike denied -- and Ted worried about what would happen if they found something. Either way, Roy heard the door creak open, heard the garbage can that he had paced in front of it get kicked out of the way, caught a few footsteps, and then saw the same man walking out of the alley. He was wearing different clothes than the two previous times, and now had on a fancy black coat with a light purple shirt underneath, dark blue pants, and slick black boots. His long blond hair was tied back into a pony tail. Underneath his arm he carried a rather large box, almost too large even to be carried single handily. Roy, in his imaginings, had named the man Olivie after he had trailed him the first time, since it seemed to fit perfectly, and as far as Roy could see, the name still fit. The guy seemed like an Olivie -- right out of a Derek Halfstar story which Mike had read to Roy. Olivie stopped and looked around after he stepped out of the alley, his eyes glancing right past Roy and Ted, both of whom where staring right at him and waiting for a move. Once satisfied that no one was watching, Olivie turned right and walked up the street. Roy followed him about twenty paces behind, always keeping a distance and ready to look elsewhere if he ever saw Olivie look around, which Olivie did once in a while. He never seemed to notice that Roy was following though. This time, rather than heading for the market, Olivie wound his way through some familiar streets until he came to the Old Forest Road, which he followed for twenty minutes to Garden Street. He hiked up Garden Street to a small cafe about half way up the hill. All in all, it was about a forty minute walk from the warehouse to the cafe. Olivie took a brief look at the tables outside the cafe and then walked over to one where a red-haired man was sitting. Olivie’s friend had short red hair, a rather nice but conservative suit with leaf-green pants, a white shirt, and a brown jacket. The two exchanged some words that Roy could not hear, and then Olivie placed the box 1148 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 on the ground, underneath the table, and sat down. Roy continued walking on, and stopped just beyond the cafe. He leaned against the wall of the neighboring shop hoping that he could hear something of the conversation. Unfortunately, he could only catch occasional snatches of words and had to fill in the blanks. The red-haired man spoke first. “So [something] today Jim?” Olivie’s name was only Jim? Roy felt disappointed, not so much that he had guessed the wrong name, but because “Jim” was so boring. Jim, no longer Olivie, said something back. Roy could not catch any of this because Jim’s voice was much quieter than the red-haired man’s, whose voice seemed almost boisterous. “I see [something]. Did [something] any problems?” The red-haired man took a sip from his drink. “No,” said Jim, or at least he nodded no when he spoke a word. “Good,” said the red-haired man loudly. “I want to tell you something.” The man leaned closer to Jim and said a few words which Roy could not understand. Jim looked mildly surprised and said something back. Roy could barely hear anything and definitely could not understand any of the conversation. Frustrated, he looked around for someplace closer to get but could not find anywhere better positioned than he already was. “Oh, another thing,” said the man to Jim. “[something] asking [something] your ship. [something] address.” The man handed Jim a slip of paper. “Take [something] him.” He took another sip. Jim looked at the paper and then stuck it in his pocket. He said a few words and then picked the box off the ground and placed it on the table. “Nice. Smaller [something].” said Jim’s partner with a smile, who then pulled out a purse from underneath the table and stuck it on top of the box.
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November 12, 2011 Jim took the purse, smiled, and pushed the box over towards the red-haired man, said something that must have been a good-bye and then got up. Uh oh. Roy felt himself in a quandary. Should he follow Jim or the red-haired man? Mike had told Roy that he should follow people coming out of the warehouse and see where they went, and Roy would certainly be able to show Mike where this cafe was, but Roy also figured that Mike wanted to know more information. In both previous times, Jim headed back to the warehouse, which Ted was watching, while this new man was probably important to whatever Mike was trying to find out. He might even lead Roy into more clues useful to Mike’s investigation, especially since he seemed to be paying Jim. After thinking things over, Roy decided to follow the red-haired man, and sat in place while Jim headed back down Garden street, towards the warehouse. Lacking enough time to come up with a really fitting name, Roy decided to call he red-haired man “Henry.” Henry finished sipping the glass of wine on the table and put down some money for the bill. He got up, standing very erect and aloof, picked up the box under one arm, and strode up Garden Street. Roy followed Henry all the way up Garden street, always about twenty paces behind. When Garden street split into two halves to go around the temple of Thel, Roy took a moment to notice the torches being lit inside the temple walls The sun was setting after all. Henry did not seem to notice the temple at all, and took the right branch of Garden street. Roy followed. Henry then took another right at an alley, and then a left at another street, much smaller than Garden street. Roy continued to tail Henry, becoming lost in the unfamiliar territory but knowing that once he found out where Henry was going, Roy could eventually make it back to the warehouse or Mike’s by just going down hill to the Old Forest Road. Henry continued walking through the back streets, taking occasional turns every few minutes, so often that Roy did not know what direction he headed or where he was. Roy’s leader did this for about half an hour until suddenly, just as night was falling, he disappeared, almost from right in front of Roy. Henry had just turned a corner, and Roy, trailing about ten meters behind, made the turn just a few seconds later and 1150 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 stared into an empty street. Roy immediately looked all around him but did not see anyone in the road. He looked into the nearby doorways but all of them were locked and he had heard neither a door opening nor closing. What had happened? Roy continued searching. But after about fifteen minutes he concluded that Henry must have gone in one of the doorways on the street, probably one of the first ones after the turn, so he just sat down by it and waited. After sitting for several hours, just watching a lifeless door, Roy wanted to return back to the warehouse to see what Ted had found and also to get a bite of food, but by then it was too dark. If he left now Roy would never be able to find this place again. So, instead, Roy just leaned up against he doorway and spent the night there, dosing off occasionally. Roy did not care much if he fell asleep since anyone coming through the door would wake him up. The night passed and Roy awoke up the next morning, still leaning against the door. No one had opened it all night. Roy considered watching the door a bit longer, but he was too hungry and too disappointed that Henry had disappeared. Roy decided to do his best to remember the spot and head back to Ted, who was probably wondering what had happened. Roy took a look around to scope out the general area, noted a tobacco shop with a huge pipe above its doorway, something unique to remember the area by, and started walking down hill, careful to remember the directions that he took. Unfortunately, Roy had to trudge quite a distance before he reached any road that he recognized and did not think it too likely that he would ever find the place where Henry had disappeared again. It took Roy another thirty minutes to walk to the warehouse. When he arrived, he was eager to sit down someplace and eat the food which Ted and he had saved, or at least he hoped Ted had not eaten at all. But when Roy walked into the alley Ted dashed all of Roy’s hopes. “Roy! Yer alive! I thought they got yi too.” “Huh?” said Roy, bewildered. 1151 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “They took Mike, jest dragged him inta the buildin’ ‘n tha middle ‘v tha night! I tried ta stop ‘em but they threw me off and knocked me out.” Roy was shocked. “And when I woke up I went inside tha warehouse and they were gone! Mike too!”
CHAPTER 8: BUGBUG RE WRITTEN ABOVE?
Roy and Ted sat outside of the wharehouse, watching it. "Wow, " said a thouroughly amazed roy, "you mean that you got into the temple of ????" "Yes sir-ee" answered Ted confidently. "But I stried to get in there and the guard at the entrance just picked me up and threw me out. i couldn't do anything t' get him t' let me in." "Yeah, that guard is a bit of a sticklet, but ya just have ta know how ta outwit the man. I tried a few times ta jest walk right in, but jest like you I was grabbed every time." "So what'd ya do?" "Well, I got an idea and waited till a whole group of pilgrim was comin in in one large bunch, bout twenty of em. While they were a bit aways from tha gate, and too far for tha guard ta see, i snuck right into tha middle of em and walked right in with tha lot. guard didn't even stop me." "But Burt told me that once he ran in past the guy on the outside but he was caught inside while he was wanderin around."
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November 12, 2011 "Yup, and I would've been too, except thaat I noticed that all round tha inside of the temple's outer wall are bushes and trees - kind've hidin the wall from tha inside. As soon as I got inside, I made straight for the bushes and found myself a hiding spot. I jest sat right down and ate a bit of food which I had and then took a nap until it was night time and tha whole place 'z empty." "Cool" "It's amazin. There aint no one around except an occasional guard, and he aint so hard to hear. Now at night tha outside is pretty dark 'n boring, so I didn't get to see any of it, but it was jest a lot of trees and fountains as far as I could tell, nothin interesting." "Trees 'r boring." "Sure are. Anyway, I snuck into the temple - all 've the doors - and they're huge - are left open at night and tha whole inside 'z lit up with torches and candles. Well, when I walked inside 've it I was jest amazed. It's huge! Taller than tha tallest tree or buildin I've ever seen, might even be able to fit tha castle's keep inside. And its wide across, prob'ly bout, hmm, five minutes walk." "Wow," was all that roy could muster. "And it's not just long. It's a perfect circle around inside with entrances on all four sides, doors big enough to fit several horses through. And between tha door, are four smaller turrets branchin off the main one like flower pedals, but I didn't git a chance at em." "Awe." "But even without em, the main temple was woth the wait. The floor, well, its all marble with different colors all over ta make patterns in it, like huge flower patters or pictures or horses and other animals on tha ground. There were even a lot of animals in the floor which I never heard of." "Did they have an eliphant?" 1153 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Sure did." "Oooo." "But tha floor wasn't even tha most interestin point. All tha walls were painted with pictures of fancy buildings, hills, and even a castled. It looked kina like tha one ontop of tha cliff but a lot newer. And then in front of tha wall, all around the whole temple, in a circle, were hundreds and hundreds of statues of men." "Were there any Remozsh?" ask roy. "Naw. They were all tall." "How bout any Ferazi?" "Nope, not that I recall, although I can say that I didn't get a chance ta look at them all, there being so many. Most of them were heroic lookin, or maybe kings and queens, carring swords and shields. They were all marbe and standin on large blocks with that writing on them. I suppose that it was there names but I don't read so I can't tell ya much." "I bet they had a statue of Derek Halfstar up there. Mike says that he was real famous. Did they have a stature?" "I don't know. What'd he look like?" Roy thought for a moment. "I don't know." And then after a bit more. "No, wait. I tkink he was tall and had a moustache and one of those pointy beards." Ted thought and remembered. "Hmm. I might have seen one like that but I'm not sure. There was too many statues ta remember." "Oh." "Ya know what else. Some of the walls haid paitin's of mountains on them which rose up onto the wall real high, some of their peaks even reachin the curved dome part. That's how high they were, bout as tall as a three story buildin. And of course, about 1154 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 tha mountians was the blue sky - painted of course, with a few clouds and lots of them big birds flyin around - eagles or hawks or somethin," "I thought it was all gold." "Well it aint exactly. Tha outside of tha dome is all gold all right, but only that very top of tha inside is. Tha gold is a small circle - well I bet it was huge but it only seemed small - up at tha very top of the dome, with toungs of fire comin' out've it, kind've like the sun." "Gee." "And there was tha darndest thing in tha center of the gold sun. Like I told ya, it was night while I was at tha temple, and it was lit by torches. But in tha center of tha sun was some sort of window, but it wasn't dark like a window lookin outside at night would be. It was bright as day, right smack in that middle of tha night. Darndest thing." "Maybe its magic." "Magic? There aint no such thing. It's all stories that yer mother tells ya." "But then how'd tha window have sunlight if it isn't magic?" "I don't know. Maybe it jest had a lot of torches. Couldn't been a mirror. But it aint magic - That's children's stuff. Or d'ya still believe 'n magic?" Roy backpeddled. "No. I'm not a kid anymore. I was just wondering what you thought it was." "Well, I've been all over, even been on a ship for awhile. I aint never seen magic, and I 'spect I would have by now." "You were on a ship?" "Sure was. How'd ya expect I got here from Sudheim over in tha central empire. Aint no other way ta git over here but on a ship." 1155 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Wow. I always wanted to be on a ship." "Well let me tell ya, it aint all that fun, and is boring most of tha time, jest goin up n down on tha waves, and there aint nothin to look at but ocean." "But you end up going to different places." "Yer right about that. That's how I got here, but I didn't get much travellin in, mostly because Inviroth was tha first place tha ship stopped and by that time I was sick've travlin." "But a ship's a big place." "It's only big from tha outside. Once you've been in it fer a few days 't seems a lot smaller. Ya cant go inta most of a ship, only on tha deck and tha crew quarters up front. Down below is all of tha cargo and there aint no room there, and no one is let in tha captains quarters, not even humans - cept the captain 'v course. "But then what does everyone do all day?" "Jest work - and boring too. Lloy'd is a lot more interestin that tha ship. Ya wake up 'n put up the sails, pull some ropes if tha captain tells ya to, and take down tha sails at night. If there's a storm - and there was a horrible one when I was on that boat, which was one of the reasons why I didn't want ta go back on - then ya work as hard as ya can for fear of yer life in order ta get tha sails down and pump all tha water out'a tha ship." "Wow! That sounds fun." "Ah, but I forgot to tell ya about tha rest of tha time. Most of the time, when it aint mornin or night or there aint no storm, ya spend cleanin tha deck 'r watchin fer land, or somethin useless like that." "Why?" "I'm not really sure but I got an idea. I think tha work is ta keep the men busy and occupied because whenever they aint got nothin to do they just sit around 'n drink 'r 1156 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 gamble. Ya see it'n lloyd's all tha time. Men stop by after work 'n spend tha whole night drinkin." "That's not right." "Oh?" "Well, we don't do that." "But Roy, I was tha only Remozsh on board. Tha rest were humans. They only let me on cause I did a good job've convincing the captain that he should take me on board." "How'd you do that?" "I gave him an important tip." Roy didn't understand what Ted meant but he pretended to anyway. "Oh." "Anyway, where was I?" "You were saying why humans drink." "Oh yeah. It all has to do with their poor memory. They forgit how to keep themselves entertained... We don't cause we're always doin stuff when we're not working, wandering around and watchin things, looking for new places in tha city, lookin for some good food, 'r just plain relaxin. Humans, they can't remember any way to keep themselves entertained, so they get bored 'n stay bored, so much so that they drink." "But you just said that you were bored on a ship." "Yer quite right about that, but my statement still holds true. Ya see, I was so bored on that ship that I decided to never go back. Now all them humans, they were sailors, and that's all they did fer work, spendin most of their time on a boat and even returnin to it after its docked in a city. After a few days on land they forgit how much they were cursin while they were out ta sea, so they end up right back on it. How else could ya explain it?" 1157 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I can't. That sounds just about right to me, except mike. He just goes to lloyd's to eat, and goes home afterwards where he reads, and when he gets some time off he likes exploring just like us." "Well, that's an new one." "Yeah, and just a few weeks ago and saw the castle up ontop the hill." "Well, I'll be damned. I've been tryin ta get inta that one for a few years. How'd ya do it?" "I went with Mike. They let Mike in but when I tried to come in the guards stopped me, but the mike told the guards that I was with him and they let me in." "I always got turned away by the guards and never could find a way to sneak past them. Even though the castle 'z jest user der show today, them guard's 'r a lot more perceptive than the ones at tha temple. So what'd ya see? What was inside tha courtyard?" "Well, the walls were really high, I mean really high, and they were mad of stone, just like they are nin the outside. Inside the castle are a few small buildings that they wouldn't let us in and a bunch of stalls containing shops." "What was in the shops? Did they have any weapons fer sale or any other castlekind-'v-things?' "Naw," said Roy. "They were just like the market, some clothes sellers, a few people selling food - mike bought be a sausage-on-a-bun there. They did have some weapons in one of the towers we went into but they we're for sale." "What kind?" "I don't know all of the names but there were swords, some spears, and some crossbows. They even had a full suit of armor and it had a sword hole in it right here," and roy pointed to a spot just to the left of his heart." "I'm gonna have ta see that one. When did this happen?" 1158 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Supposedly it happened the last time that the ferazi attacked inviroth, several thousand years ago, and the knight wearing that armor was the last one to die in the battle. Mike didn't believe it." "I didn't know that the ferazi ever attacked inviroth." "Yeah, they sure did," said Roy, feeling proud that he knew something which ted didn't. "It was a long time ago, but the laid siege to the city when it first started up and was small. That's why the castle was built, to protect the city." "But the border is a thousand miles away. There's no way a ferazi army 'd get that far." "Mike says that all 'v the west was owned by the ferazi and that inviroth was built over one of their cities." "So then what happened to them?" "I think that they kicked out by the humans and that's why there was the war." "Damn humans. Do ya think they'll ever kick us out?" "Naw. Why would they?" asked Roy. "I don' know, but why would they git rid of tha ferazi? Humans don't like us very much either." "How do you know?" asked roy. "Cause they treat us diff'rent. They don' let us go in their special buildin's like the castle 'n temple, and they only let's do certain jobs, and they don't pay us 'z much. Have you ever had a human invite ya into his home?" "Well, Mike..." "Besides Mike?" "Well, no." 1159 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Ya see. Humans get intivted into each other's homes all 'v tha time. They don't do that ta Remozsh 'r Ferazi... except Mike. They don't like us and don't want us around." "Oh." Roy didn't know how to answer the charge against humans. It seemed perfectly correct. "Never mind that. Let's get back to tha castle. Were there any catapults?" "Yeah, there was one ontop of one of the towers. It was so big that I could sit in it. Mike said that it could fling me part way through the city." "Did ya try?" asked Ted jokingly. "Naw. They wouldn't let me. Anyhow, the catapult hadn't been fired for a few hundred years so it probably didn't work anymore." "Well did ya git inside tha keep?" "Hold it, what's that?" said roy. he heard some sounds coming from inside the wharehouse. although he couldn't identify the initial sounds, he heard the familiar footsteps. "Hear 'em. Let's hide." Both Ted and Roy stood up and left their observation point from just oposite the wharehouse door and walked out of the alley, stood off to the left, and waited for someone to leave. They had gone through these maneuvers twice already since starting their watch. Each time a man with light blond hair and fairly well-to-do clothing had come out of the wharehouse, and gone on an errand. The first time, Roy followed him, and he went down to the market and bought some food and beer, at least a week or two's worth by roy's estiamte, and hauled the food back to the wharehouse. The second time, Ted wanted to follow, so he trailed the man down towards the dock where he met with a captain of a ship, went on board, and then several minutes later left and returned right back to the wharehouse. He always returned and disappeared into the wharehouse. Both times Roy and Ted ventured enough bravery to enter the wharehouse a few minutes after the man had 1160 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 disappeared through the door, but they never found him or any trace. They even checked around the entire wharehouse for entrances and exits but couldn't find any which had been used. Mike had been told about both of these happenings as soon as he could be found, and even had Ted show him which ship the man had visited. Mike was also intrigued by the man's disappearence into the wharehouse and asked that the exits and entrances be watched more carefully, and that some sort of mark be put on them to indicate if they'd been opened or not, perhaps a stick leaning at an angle against the opening which would fall down if the door or window were opened. Roy and ted did this, monitoring them every hour but the sticks had remained in exactly the same position. Slowly, Roy began to believe in magic even more even though Ted and Mike insisted that magic didn't exist and that the man must be getting in and out of the wharehouse somehow. The sticks would show where he entered. This time would show all since it was the first time that someone had come through the door since the sticks were placed. Since it was Roy's turn to follow him, Roy would get to see where the man went - if it was the same one - and Ted would go around the whole building checking all of the sticks to see how the man had entered. Of course, if the man had entered the building shortly before he left out the door, Roy couldn't understand why he'd do that, but ted suggested that there must be something important in the wharehouse, such as a hiding spot, which they hadn't seen in their hasty search. Unfortunately, neither of them had enough courage to stay too long in the wharehouse, Roy fearing some sort of magic - which Ted and Mike denied - and Ted worried about what would happen if they found something. Either way, Roy heard the door creak open, heard the garbage can which he had set up get kicked out of the way, caught a few footsteps, and then saw the same man walking out of the alley. He was wearing different clothes than the two previous times, and now had on a fancy black coat with a light purple shirt underneath, dark blue pants, and slick black boots. His long blond hair was tied back into a pony tail. Underneath his arm he carried a rather large box, almost too large even to be carried single handedly. Roy, in his imaginings, had named the man Olivie after he had trailed him the first time, since it seemed to fit perfectly, and the name still fit. The
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November 12, 2011 guy seemed like an Olivie - right out of a Derek Halfstar storiy which Mike had read to Roy. Olivie, stopped and looked around after he stepped out of the alley, his eyes glancing right past Roy and Ted, both of whom where stairing right at him and waiting for a move. Once satisfied, Olivie turned right and walked up the street. Roy followed him once he had gone about twenty paces ahead, always keeping a distance and ready to look elsewhere if he ever saw Olivie look around, which Olivie did once in awhile, but he never seemed to notice that Roy was following. This time, rather than heading for the market, Olivie wound his way through some familiar streets until he came to the Old forest Road, and followed it until he came to Garden Street, hiking up this until he reached a small cafe about half way up the hill. All in all, it was about a forty minute walk from the wharehouse to the cafe. Olivie took a brief look at the tables outtside the cafe and then walked over to one where a dark-red haired man was sitting. They exchanged some words and then Olivie placed the box on the ground, underneath the table, and sat down. Roy continued walking on to just past the cafe and leaned against the wall of the neigboring shop hoping that he could hear soemthing of the conversation. Unfortunately, he could only catch occasional snatches of words and had to fill in the blanks. The red-haired man spoke first. "So [something] today Jim?" His name was only Jim? Roy felt disappointed that he had guessed the wrong name. Jim, no longer Olivie, said something back. Roy couldn't catch any of this because Jim's voice was much quieter than the red-haired man's, whose voice seemed almost boisterous. "I see [something]. Did [something] any problems?" "No," said Jim, or at least he nodded no when he spoke a word. "Good," said the red-haired man loudly. "I want to tell you something." The man leaned closer to Jim and said a few words which roy couldn't pick up. 1162 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Jim looked mildly surprised and said something back. Roy could barely hear anything and defiantely couldn't understand any of the conversation. Frustrated, he looked around for someplace closer to get but couldn't find anywhere better than he already was. "Oh another thing," said the man to Jim. "[something] asking [ something] your ship. [something] address." The man handed jim a slip of paper. "Take [something] him." Jim looked at the paper and then stuck it in his pocket, said a few words and then picked the box off the ground and placed it on the table. "Nice. Smaller [something]." said jim's partner, who then pulled out a purse from underneath the table and stuck it ontop of the box. Jim took the puse, smiled, and pushed the box over towards the red-haired man, said something which must have been a goodbye and then got up. Roy felt himself in a quandry. Should he follow Jim or the red-haired man? Mike had told roy that he should follow people coming out of the wharehouse and see where they went, and roy would certainly be able to show Mike where this cafe was, but Roy also figured that Mike wanted to know more inforamtion. In both times previously, Jim headed back to the wharehouse, which was already being watched by Ted, while this new man was probably important to whatever Mike was trying to find out. He might even lead Roy into more clues useful to Mike's investigation, especially since he seemed to be paying Jim. After thinking things over, Roy decided to follow the red-haired man, and sat in place watching Jim head back from the direction he came. The red-haired man, Roy decided to call him Henry, lacking enough time to come up with a really fitting name, finished sipping a glass of wine which had been on the table and put down some money for the bill. He got up, standing very erect and aloof, picked up the box under one arm, and strode up Garden Street. Roy followed Henry all the way up garden street, always about twenty paces behind, until garden street split into two halves to go around the temple of ???. Roy took a moment to noticedthe torches inside the temple walls being lit because the sun was 1163 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 setting. Henry took the right branch of garden street. Roy followed. He then took another right at an alley, and then a left at another street, much smaller than garden street. Roy continued to tail Henry, getting slightly lost in the unfamiliar territory but knowing that once he found out where Henry was going, Roy could eventually make it back to the wharehouse or Mike's but just going down hill to the Old Forest Road. Henry continued walking through the back streets, taking occasional turns every few minutes, so often that Roy didn't know what direction he was headed or where he was. He did this for about half an hour until suddenly, just as night was falling, he disappeared, almost from right in front of roy. Henry had just turned a corner, and roy, trailing about ten meters behind, made the turn just a few seconds later and stared into an empty street. Roy immediately looked all around him but didn't see anyone in the road. He looked into the nearby doorways but all of them were locked and he had heard neither a door opening nor closing. After about fifteen minutes of seaching, Roy concluded that Henry must have gone in one of the doorways on the street, probably one of the first ones after the turn, so he just sat down by it and waited. After sitting for several hours of watching a lifeless door, Roy wanted to return back to the wharehouse to see what ted had found and also to get a bite of food, but by then it was too dark out and Roy would never be able to find this place again. So, instead, Roy just leaned up against he doorway and spent the night there, occasionally dosing off. Roy didn't care much if he fell asleep since anyone coming through the door would wake him up. Roy woke up the next moring, still leaning against the door. No one had opened it all night. Roy considered watching the door a bit longer, but he was too hungry and too disappointed that Henry had disappeared, that he decided to do his best to remember the spot and head back to Ted, who was probobaly wondering what happened. Roy took a look around and picked out the general area, noted a tobacco shop with a huge pipe above its doorway, something unique to remember the area by, and started walking down hill, careful to remember the directions he took. Unfortunately, Roy had to trudge quite a distance before he reached any road which he recognized and didn't think it too likely that he'd ever find the place where Henry had disappeared.
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November 12, 2011 Roy walked another half an hour to the wharehouse, eager to sit down someplace and eat the food which Ted and he had saved, and hoping that Ted hadn't eaten at all, but as soon as Roy walked into the alley Ted dashed all of Roy's hopes. "Roy! Yer alive! I thought they got ya too." "Huh?" said Roy, bewildered. "They took Mike, jet dragged him inta the buildin in tha middle 'v tha night! I tried ta stop 'em but they threw me off and knocked me out." Roy was shocked. "And when I woke up I went inside tha wharehouse and they're gone! Mike too!"
CHAPTER 9: BUGBUG
Exceprt from: A Traveller's Guide to the Ashtari Empire, Volume VI, Anecdotes. by Derek Halfstar. Published in the year 1035 of the Ashtari Empire.
When I was not much more than a boy, having absolutely no common sense beneath my hair, I took it upon myself to become a great hero and adventurer. Of course, I 1165 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 had no inkling of where the path to adventuring even started or even towards which direction it took. Unfortunately, I was unable to discover any books on it at the time, being forced to do my own exploration though the adventuring wilderness. Since I have begun my authorings, I have endeavored to chart many of my dead-end trails and swamps hidden to the novice adventurer, and the reader should feel himself fortunate that I have written these many tomes which may guide him upon the adventurer's path and enable to avoid all of the pits and snares which I blundered into. Having no path to follow, I treaded straight off into the woods and imaged my own foot-trail, the first leg of which required that I acquire some equipment useful to the adventuring trade. This was by far the easiest part; My great uncle Fathersway was in the army and had earned a vast hoard of weapons and armors from his exploits. He tended to it dearly while he was alive, but when he left the world his prized posessions were thrown into the basement and forgotten. As a small child I had taken an interest in these articles and had spent many hours playing with them, assuming the roles of a great general or knight. I had swordfights with my piers over some young lady who had volunteered to be tied to a tree, although the many of my damsoles tired of the sport and demanded their release long before the battle had been succesfully won by either side. The pleas of the make-believe damsoels for their release provided me with reason to speed the battle to its ultimate course, my victory, which I never failed to win. Of course, being an honest gentleman, I must admit that my youthful foes did not have the armor of my uncle, and would suffer terribly from any blows which I landed. But I have digressed and the good reader is anxiously awaiting the tails of my first foray into adventuring. After exhuming the rusting weapons and armor from the dungeon underneath my parent's house, and spending several days scraping off red flecks and applying oil, I began to search for an employer. My first attempt at advertising, something which every upstart adventurer is in need of, was a sure success, or so I thought. I arranged my uncle's suit of armor into human form and shaped a straw body to go within the shell. This military statue was placed outside my home with a large sign decreeing, "Adventurer for hire." I surmised that the armor would attract large amounts of attention, especially from anyone looking for a knight errant or adventurer. The straw dummy was in substitute for me as I wasn't 1166 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 about to stand outside my paren't door day and night dressed as a cast-iron wood stove. Of course, being a budding gentleman, I would relieve the dummy for a few hours every day and place myself in its role. The armor did attract a lot of attention and was working extremely well, but unfortunately, one moring when I stepped outside with gentlemanly plans to give the straw a rest, I discovered the armor missing. The dummy was still standing there but with a sign saying, "Kick me." I never did find out what happened to my protection. Being without armor I spent many a day devising other plans, but was forced to relinquish them all because of some technicality. However, I did not language for long for I eventually came upon a brilliant idea; I placed signs around town. Being able to read and write, I produced the most elegant language which I could poet and nailed several hundred of these masterpieces about Inviroth. I do believe that I still have one or two of these historic parchments, (they're worth a lot of money now) but I am unable to find their hiding place among my memoirs, or I would print a copy with this book for your enjoyment. After a fortnight of silence from my signs, I was sitting up in my bedroom one night, musing over famous tales, when my father ascended the stairs from his shop and informed me of a guest. Anticipating some vessel of adventure I bolted down the stairs and introduced myself to a most stunning vial of beauty. Shrouded in a flowing white gown was a pristine lady with lovely eyes and hair as black as the night. My eyes were momentarily transfixed, body stunned, and mind numbed by her beauty. Recalling what a gentleman I was, I proffered to give here an elegant kiss on her gloved fingers, but she withdrew them quickly, and in a melodic, almost flute-like voice, entreated me: "Are you the famous Derek Halfstar whose deeds I've heard so much about?" Not knowing why she thought I was yet famous, I answered, "Yes lady. I am he, and he humbly places one of his future deeds at your service." This is the way that one must address all respectable ladies, which surely she was. I finished with an extravgant bow which was only sullied by my missing hat.
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November 12, 2011 "Very well then. My name is Lady Jensley. I require your services to watch my husband. I suspect that he fornicates with a harlot. Bring me her name and I will pay you with this," and has smoothly as she had spoken, her glove revealed a beautiful gemstone worth not less than several years of my previous non-adventuring labor. Being afronted by so much splendor I forgot my tongue and failed to respond in any form of verbal communication. "I will return in a few weeks," said she, and then walked out of the house. Discovering my wits, and my tongue along with them, I ran after the lady in order to accept the job and provide her with a farewell indicative of my gratitude, but could find no carriage nor soul outside the doorway. I concluded that she was so rushed for fear of detection by her husband, and so I resolved to forgive my transgressions. The next morning I eagerly began my adventure. My first obstacle was the location of Lady Jensley's abode, she having exited so suddenly that I hadn't time to request any particulars. After spending several days inquiring for the lady's house, I did finally discover it on Garden Street, that picturesque avenue of mansions flowing into the mawe of Inviroth Castle. The right might like to know that Lady Jensley's mansion was number 520, so that he can see today that it really exists and believe my tale. Surrounding the mansion's grounds were large prickly hedges about twice a man's height, and flush against the shrubery was a stone wall of equal height on the inside, because of which I was incapable of seeing within the grounds. I realized that I would be forced to overcome the barrier since undoubtedly the lady wouldn't wish to be caught aiding me. At sunrise the next day, I approached the leafy wall and climbed the thorns, all the time noting that if my armor had not run away my skin would have been saved many thorny punctures. Once I scaled the bush, I climbed onto the wall and surveyed the estate. It was an enormous parcel with a three-storied mansion presiding in the center, surrounded by exquisite gardens of shapely trees and hued flowers, a truly magnificent sight, and I recommend that the reader delve in for a visit. Seeing as the stone-work upon which I was erected was quite high, I tied my rope to the thorn bush and descended into what appeared the garden of paradise. But, no more than a minutes walk had I gotten when I spyed a group of raging canines racing 1168 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 towards me. Not wwishing to harm any of the hounds, and thus call attention to my presence, and more importantly, damage the lady's property, I reversed direction and only just barely retreated to my lifeline in time. As I was climbing out of hell, which only a minute before had foolishly thought was heaven, my foot was grabbed by one of the fiends and nearly pulled me back into the fray, but lucky it only escaped with my shoe. Half bare-footed I winced down the prickly foliage and found my way home. I returned the next morning with a clever idea stashed away in a sack. Once more I climbed the wall, and after walking for a minute or two, percieve the pack of hellhounds flying towards me. Instead of changing course, I sprinted for the nearest tree, making sure not to lose my bag of creativity. I reached the tree and ascended beyond the teeth of the now-present dogs. From my sack I connived a piece of meat which I dropped for the hounds' stomachs. It was quickly claimed. I removed another piece of flesh and tossed it a few meters away. All of the hounds bolted for it, devoured it, and then returned. Having plenty of carion, I repeated this process and over several pieces, I managed get the hounds' appetites, and their respective jaws, far away. Taking advantage of the opportuinity, I lept down and raced towards the next tree, only to be followed by the guardians. But they were too distant and too slow from eating to capture another of my shoes. Using this method I worked my way from one foliated purgatory to another, slowly reaching the house. Within a few hours I was safely concealed by the window to the master bedroom, just in time to see the master empty his bed for the day. The dogs tired of their chef by mid-morning and wandered away to leave me in unobtrusive solitude. Morning ascended to day and then descended into evening. The stars followed suit, and the master entered his suite, alone. I waited several hours, nodding off while watching my snoring prey; No one entered his room. Around midnight, while in a slumber, I plummeted from the tree and ordained that this was a message from the heavens, and so began my walk to my own bed, beyond the wall. Inevitably, the hounds came charging after only a few foot-falls, and I was forced to escape as I had entered, running from tree to grass to tree, like a squirrel.
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November 12, 2011 After giving myself a a few days of rest, I returned once again to the garden and learnt that the dogs had not tired of their task nor smartened to my ploy. So, after climbing a mere twenty three trees, I reached my avian perch and awaited the lord. That night, Lady Jensley's husband entered with a woman, but being night, could not tell if it were Lady Jensley or the harlot, though I predicted the later. The two ascribed to the usual nightly activites between a man and a woman though such a description not be proper to print. However, for all my attention to their actions, I was unable to glimpse the face of the lady clear enough to mark her as Lord Jensley's wife. While I hung upon the tree, I pondered whether Ladey Jansley would mind my intrustion for such a noble cause. After all, she had bade me to find out the mistresses name. If it were her there she surely wouldn't mind, and if it were an adultress then I would have her name. Once decided upon a result, all that I required was a ploy, and that quickly materialized into my head. I vaulted into and shattered through the window, like a fairy spreading magical dust before himself. The two naked forms had barely time to sit up in bed before I was upon them with my scheme. "Who the bloody hell are you!" exlaimed the man. I calmly stepped forward, "I am Derik Numare of the census beaurau." I whipped out the pad of paper which I happened to possess. "I have been instructed to count ALL of the citizens of this city. The lack of taxes from this domicile implied that it was empty." I gave a most hideous look for effect, but I fear it was stolen by the night. I thought perhaps that I saw him pale. "But," I interjected into my soliloquy, "I do not care for your gold crowns, and if you will but kindly name this domicile's inhabitants, I will remain silent." I took out a pen and prepared to write. "You won't tell anyone about the taxes then?" answered the man. "On my honor. I am a counter of larger heads than those which tax collector seeks." "Very well. My name is Lord Francis Jensley. This is my wife, Lady Jensley." 1170 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My plan deflated at those words, and nearly wilted into silence, but luckily, I was thinking on my feet. "But sir, how do I know that you are telling the truth. You might just be guests of this house; Such a miscount would sorely endanger my integrity. Do you have any proof? Perhaps a painting or servant?" "Oh bother," grumbled Lord Jensley. "Come with me then." He lit a candle, lead me out of the room, through a hallway, down a beatiful set of marble stairs, and into a large hall, where he held up his candle to two exquisite paintings above the fireplace. One was he, and the other the lady in his bed. Attached to the frames were two brass placks with the names, "Lord Francis Jensley" and "Lady Lisa Jensley," etched in an ornate font. Once again, my hopes plummeted, this time too low to rebound. I wrote down the Lord and Lady's names, thanked my host very cordially, and was escorted out of the building. The wolf-pack took over from where their master left off, but at a much more invigorating pace. I, however, escaped the garden unscathed, and when my weary feet returned me home I resolved to forget this case, and should the prankster ever return, I would tell her off, irregardless of her charm. It was not a week before she once again appeared at my door, and without the slightest salutation, she demanded, "Have you found out her name?" My curt response quickly followed, "No!" I then tried to cuntinue with my long planned lecture, but shortened it on the spot, "Lord Francis Jensley says that she's his betrothed. He even produced a painting to prove it, right above the mantle." Surprisingly, the lady had a cogent explanation. "Of course, I forgot to tell you. The servants have told me that he places her painting over mine when I'm gone. If you don't believe me, then get a look behind that painting." Now here I was at wits end, my lecture, which was sure to trap this trickstress, rebounded and snared me. I was forced, not only by her logical explanation, but also by my piqued curiosity, to investiage this matter. I was about to ask of her for a less exhausting entrance to her manor that I had previously used, when I noticed that she had vanished. When I ran down stairs I could find no one.
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November 12, 2011 The next morning I costumed myself and approached the front gates of Lord Jensley's. There I was stopped by a guard and questioned about the purpose of my visit, was Lord Jensley expecting me, and if not why was I there. Being dressed as a judge, with wig, robes, and gavel, I proclaimed, for judges always proclaim, "I am Judge Moffet representing the Inviroth Sculpture and Painting society. It is my duty, enlisted by the before-mentioned party, to examine the sculptures and paintings of the manors of this fore-mentioned city. I therefore submit my entry into Lord Jensley's domicile, which will hencforth be named the manor, in order to rate his artworks, and if they are so deemed exemplary, to award them this badge of excellence," I displayed a beautiful blue ribbon, "and proclaim their masterwork throught the city." Looking rather impressed, the guard sent a runner to the house and several minutes later a stately old gentleman, not Lord Jensley, approached, "Lord Jensley is not in at this time. Would you be so kind as to return tomorrow." Trying to look insulted, I waved the prize ribbon about and spewed forth an excuse. "My good man. I find two reasons for not returning on the morrow to the manor. Firstly, beyond the task of judging the hand of the artists, I am oblidged, nay required, to also judge the hands of crime, and can barely afford the time I spend prattling here. Secondly, I submit that the Lord's presence is not required for my preusals, and that if any of his paintings should merit a ribbon," I waved the ribbon some more, "I would return another day. In conclusion, I will not wait around, but demand to be entered." At that I banged my gavel on anything which I could find, that happenning to be the guard's helmet. Thinking for a moment, the old man requested that the gate be opened and led me into the mansion. All of the while I spent walking to the front door, I also spent scanning for the hell-hounds, but luckily they didn't recognize me, my disguise was so complete. The butler lead me into a large hall in which many a colored canvas were hung. I spent a minute staring at each of them, and since the elderly man was likewise staring at me, I made extreme faces at the paintings, some of disgust and others of 1172 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 enjoyment. Eventually I was led to the twin paintings of Lord Jensley and his "wife." The artworks had not changed since my last peep at them. "So these paintings here represent the Lord and his Lady," I commented, receiving a nod from the gentleman. I thought it odd that he would play the deception to a stranger, but perhaps, I thought, the man was instructed to declare the mistress to be his master's wife. I proceded to investage these carefully, and then without warning proffered, "This painting of the woman is most excellent. Will you turn it around so that I may see it's back?" I believe that the old man began to suspect my fraudulance and artistic ineptitude. "Excuse me sir, but why?" he said snobbishly. "I can see you've no knowledge of painting. The front of the canvas only reveals what the artist instended one to see. The back, my good man, reveals the artist. His choice of canvas, the method of streatching, what gesso he used, and his first sketchings are only revealed from the back," and as an afterthought, "I would not be a proper judge if I did not investigate both sides of a case." The butler, imagining that he had learned something profound that day, produced a stool and removed the artistry so that I could judge the back side, even though my real intentions were to see what was behind it. To my surprise, there was a painting of the real Lady Jensley behind it, with the inscription, "Lady Catherine Jensley." Upon seeing this I querried, "Excuse me sir, but these two paintings are both labelled 'Madame Jensley' but they are clearly of two different women. The facts are amiss here." "You are absolutely correct sir. The one I hold is of his second wife; His first wife, whose painting is on the wall, passed away several years ago." "Ah, " I said. "I'm sorry to hear that." My goal achieved, I wished to exit speedily, but in order not to appear hypocritical, I examined the back of the painting and nodded. "An excellent painting." The gentleman looked at the back but found nothing informative there. "I am very tempted to award the prize to this one, but since I must be impartial, my judgement will have to wait until I've seen all of my other cases." 1173 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 We then closed up the meeting with words of gratitude and I was escorted to the street. With my curiosity run wild, I sought to investigate the butler's claims. Everyone in Invroth knows that the very richest people are burried in the Cliff-End Cemetary, overlooking the sea, so I made straight for that, not even adjourning to shed by judicial garb. After several hours of reading names and epithats, I hadn't found "Lady Catherine Jensley" on any of the tombstones, but by luck, a warden who had seen me fantically searching approached and inquired what I was doing. To this, I used my garb to full advantage, and replied that I was a judge investigating a case and needed to uncover a valuable clue on the tombstone of "Lady Catherine Jensley." He thought a bit and then led me into a corner of the green which I had not yet visited. Sure enough, there was a monument to "Lady Catherine Jensley," who had died some few years previous. The next week was overflowing with anticipation. I waited for Lady Catherine's ghost to show itself, not knowing whether to be frightened or amazed at such a feat. After all, I had always heard of souls sustaining their earthly residence after death, but had never believed it. I leave this anecdote as my testimony to this fact so that the reader will believe. Lady Jensley's etherialness explained her disappeareneces, but what really puzzled me was how she had heard tale of me. Perhaps I had posted a sign close to the graveyard, or maybe one of my pamphlets had been likewise burried in the ground and it's soul, althoug I wonder if a paper has a soul, communicated with hers? Because of all my thoughts, worries, conjectures, and stories, my parents thought me insane from too much imagination. Even I began to believe so, an towards the end I gave up hope of the lady's appearence because I had discovered her secret. But, two weeks after our last encounter, she reappeared and again demanded, "Have you found her name?" "Yes," said I, "She is Lady Lisa Jensley, wife of Lord Frances Jensley." Furiously she retorted, "She certainly is not. I am Lady Jensley."
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November 12, 2011 Becoming like a detective revealing his discoveries to the criminal, I surmised, "Yes, you are indeed Lady Jensley, Lady Catherine Jensley, or shall I say that you were. You were married to Lord Francies Jensley aught by four years ago." "And I am still married to him!" "I'm afraid your not. I know, and I am sure that you share my knowledge, that you are dead." "So, what difference does that make? You are boring me. Have you her name?" "One fact at a time, please, my lady. Firstly, you are no longer married to Lord Jensley. After your death, your claim to wedlock would never hold up in a court of law. I have researched this point in the last week and have a number of tomes to prove so. Nor would it be accepted by any church, since, madame, you are married till, and I quote, 'death do us part.'" "Secondly, " I continued with a certain smugness, "since you have not been married to Lord Jensley for several years, he has had the right to remarry for some time, and in fact, he has. The woman he sleeps with at night is Lady Jensley." She scowled. "But that's not her name. You insult me. I am Lady Jensley. Lady Lisa Jensley is not her real name." "Ah, but it is. She has acquired that title and surname by legally joining Lord Jensley in wedlock, which she had full right to." The law, the church, and all of her acquantainces know her by that name. In fact, she has more right to be named Lady Jensley than you. Both of you acquired the surname through marriage, but she has stronger rights than you because she is still wedded to the name-giver. Because you call yourself Lady Jensley she likewise may be named." A look of frustration overcame her. "Very well. Since you refuse to give me her true name, I shall leave." At that I broke in as quickly as I could before she vaporized. "Just a minute madame. You requested that I find the name of the woman which your husband has been 1175 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 sleeping with. For such services, you stated that you would pay me with a jewel which you displayed before me. Her name is Lady Lisa Jensley. We had a gentleman's agreement, and although I can not take it to a court of law, I demand upon your honor that you pay me according to the agreement." With a blast of wind she vanished. I was going to accept my loss of the stone until I stepped on a small pointy object. It was the gem-stone. Fortunately, only my bare foot was damanged by the collision.
CHAPTER 10: BUGBUG
Dan turned the corner and saw the steps leading up to his apartment a few blocks down the road, verifying that he was into the final stretch of his long work day. He'd been out working since dawn, first walking down to the docks to see if anyone to find someone who needed a package delivered, usually something sent from overseas and to be shipped to one of the inhavitants of invorth. Today, Dan got two packages on his first visit, one was for someone in the manufacturing district, just outside of the wharfs and warehouses, and the other was up the hill for some rich person. Dan dropped off the first one, that only being a ten minute walk, and then hiked up the hill for an hour, through the streets and dropped off his second package for someone living in a row of town-houses at the very north end of the city. He then had to walk all of the way back, get the rest of his pay, and then find another package to deliver. As usual, he had to pass up a lot of jobs because they required a cart and mule. Dan could have gotten a job hauling a wild panther from the jungle to someone's 1176 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 personal zoo if he had only had a cart and mule, generally more interesting then carrying packages of china up the hill. After seeing the cat, Dan found some packages which needed to get to the south end of the city, delivered those in several passed, and got a few more for the hill. By the time he had delivered his last package and limped all of the way back to the dock for pay, he was exhausted, and only had enough energy left to trudge back to his apartment and fall asleep. When dan reached the foot of the outdoor stairs leading up to his apartment he saw something unusal, a brown Remozsh sleeping at the top of the landing, right in front of his door, providing another hassle for the end of the day. Although one had never decided to sleep in front of Dan's door before, Dan had seen plently sleeping in doorways, and sometimes had to get past them in order to deliver his packages. All he need to do was give it a slight tap with his foot - Dan wasn't the cruel sort who'd kick it - and then ask it to leave. They weren't dangerous or nasty, usually, and would just get up and walk away. Dan climbed his stairs, stepping as loudly as possible in hopes that the noise would wake the rat up, so Dan wouldn't have to talk to it. This, however, didn't work because Dan reached the top of the landing and it was still sound asleep. Dan sat and thought for a moment, wondering if he should just leave it sleeping on the stairs and step over it but then realized that he couldn't because as soon as he opened the door, the Remozsh's head would flop down into his apartment and wake it up anyhow. Dan nudged the Remozsh with his foot. "Hey bud," said Dan, "Wake up. I gotta get 'n my apartment." The creature stirrued. "Huh? Wha?" it said sleepily. "Your sleeping in my doorway and I've gotta get in." "Oh," said the rat, and then it suddenly woke and stood up. "Oh, wait right here," commanded the Remozsh and then it ran down the stairs and down the street as quickly as it could.
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November 12, 2011 "Wait right here?" thought Dan. He was amused, and if he weren't so tired, Dan would have chuckled a bit. It was the same kind of ridiculousness as when Dan's fouryear-old nephew would tell Dan to hold some toy for no reason at all, as if Dan were his to play with. Dan was too tired to see if the Remozsh would come back so he just opened his door and walked in. Dan headed straight for his bed and was asleep in no time. Dan heard some knocking and woke up from from his sleep enough to open his eyes. The knocking came again; This time Dan was awake enough to realize that it came from the door. Thinking that it was John, Dan opened his eyes and yelled out, "Hold on. I'm comin." He then forced his sleepy body to sit up in bed, stared for a moment at the wall while the sleepiness subsided, and then stood up, combing his hands through his hair in order to make it presentable. Dan forced his feet to walk, and stumbled his way to the door, taking another moment to stare blankly at in, trying to force his dazed brain to wake up, and then opened the door. Instead of seeing John, Dan expecting him to stop by and get him for dinner, Dan saw a woman in a light blue dress, blond hair, a rather ordinary face, and very tall. Dan blinked to clear his eyes, and then, his sleepy brain not giving him any clues about what he should do, Dan just stared. "Are you from New-Star adventures?" asked the woman. For some reason that question didn't make any sense to Dan, probably because his brain hadn't completely woken up yet. "Beg yer pardon," said Dan. The woman, who was holding a folded piece of paper in her hand, unfolded it and gave it to Dan, who, in his dazed state, didn't know why she did so because Dan couldn't read. But, to be polite, and because he was too sleepy to make any command decisions, Dan took hold of the paper and looked at it. Even though he couldn't read, Dan recognized the form as one of the hundreds of posters which Chris had written and Dan had hung up. This served to wake Dan up. "Oh," said Dan. "Please excuse me. I'm still half alseep. I'm Dan Johnson." Not knowing proper etiquite for doing business with a woman, Dan offered his hand for a hand-shake. She took it, having a firmer grasp than Dan expected. 1178 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I'm Susan Andersen, and this is Roy." She gestured down towards a brown Remozsh which Dan just noticed. "Howdy," it said, and held out its hand. Dan had never shaken a Remozsh's hand, nor had he heard of anyone ever doing so, but seeing as this might result in some business, and since the woman thought the rat of importance, Dan shaked the rat's tiny hand. It felt rather like shaking a child's hand except that it was cold, furry, and had cold finger nails. Dan added a "Hi" while he was shaking the Remozsh's hand. "So what do you need us for?" asked Dan. "My brother," Susan said, "was kidnapped yesterday." "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," responded Dan, not knowing the correct etiquite for such matters, but calling on the answer commonly given when talking to people whose relative had died. Susan didn't offer any more information. "Have you gone to the cops?" "Well yes, but they won't do anything unless he's missing for a week, or there's an eye-witness." The Remozsh interrupted, "Ted saw them take Mike." Susan looked down at the Remozsh and then back at Dan. "Ted is Roy's friend. He's a Remozsh too. The police wouldn't accept him as a witness." "But then how do you know that Mike's been taken." Roy broken in again. "I said that Ted saw 'im." Susan hesitated and then answered, "I stopped by Mike's apartment after Roy came to me. The place was ransacked."
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November 12, 2011 Dan began to think that this was a legitimate case, and that they might get a job out of it, but Dan didn't want to be repsonsible for getting all of the answers alone, so he decided that he needed Chris and John. "Miss. Andersen, I've got several partners which I work with and I feel that they should be here before you tell me any more details." That sounded professional enough. "Would you might if I ran out and got them?" "No," answered Susan. "Not at all." "It'll just be a minute. Please, make youself at home." Dan gestured into his room and waited for Susan to enter the room. The remozsh almost ran inside and made for Dan's bed, while Susan walked calmly and sat herself on Dan's chair. "I'll be right back," said Dan and he walked out the door and down the stairs. He made a brisk walk to John's apartment, half a block away and off of an alley. When he got to John's door, Dan knocked. After a few seconds John the door opened. "Hey Dan. I'm not ready for dinner yet. Can you wait a moment." "Never mind that," said Dan. "Run and get Chris." John gave a nastly look when Dan said "run". "A woman just stopped by and it seems like she wants to hire us." "How much?" "I don't know. I didn't ask yet. Just hurry up and get Chris and bring him back to my place." "Okay." "I'm gonna head back and keep here occupied, so hurry!" Dan left John's apartment but waited just outside the alley entrance until John came out, just to make sure that he was on his way. Chris' house was only a few minute's run away, so it wouldn't take John very long.
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November 12, 2011 Dan hurried back to his apartment, climbed the stairs, and then looked inside. The rat was sitting on the edge of Dan's be, bouncing up and down, while hyper-actively looking around the room. Susan Andersen sat on Dan's chair, hands folded, watching the Remozsh with a blank, un-seeing, stare. She turned to face Dan when he got to the top of the risers, reanimating her face into the pleasant smile she had worn before. "They'll be just a minute," said Dan. "No problem," answered Susan politely. "Is there anything I can get for you?" "No thank you." As far as he could tell, Dan had several more minutes to waste, and he had already come to the end of his hospitality questions. What else could he ask? Dan thought a moment and then thought of something else to ask, "Do you have any questions?" Susan nodded, "No. Not at the moment." "Yeah, I do," said Roy. "Oh?" asked Dan, trying to be polite and answer the rat's question. "Do ya have a sword?" asked Roy. "Yes, I do," said Dan. He wondered if Susan had told Roy to ask the question. Roy put forth another question. "Have ya ever killed anyone with 't?" "No. We don't like to kill people." It seemed a good enough response. "Oh," said Roy. "Have ya every killed any monsters?" Dan decided that Susan hadn't put the Remozsh up to the questions. "Nope. I never met a monster." 1181 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Oh," said Roy again. Dan tried to change the subject. "So Miss Andersen, How did you ever meet a Remozsh." "Actually," she said, "He's Mike's friend." "Yeah," broke in the bouncing rat, "Mike 'n I go way back. D'you know any Remozsh?" "No," said Dan, displaying some irritation. "But why not?" asked Roy. Dan considered this answer too obvious to need speaking. Just then, Dan heard Chris and John walk up the steps, and walked over to the door to greet them, hoping that the Remozsh would shut up when it had no one looking at it. "Who's that?" asked the rat. "My friends." John was the first to arrive, followed by Chris. Dan made the introductions, "Miss Andersen, this is John and Chris," pointing to John and Chris respectively. "Chris, John, this is Susan." "Hi, I'm roy," added Roy. He jumped off the bed, walked straight up to John, and offered his hand to John's, who just gave the gestured a disusted look. After about thirty seconds, Roy got the hint and returned to the bed. "Miss Anderson has told me that her brother, Mike, has been kidnapped," said towards Chris and Dan, but broadcasting it loud enough so that Susan would hear also. "The kidnapping was witnessed by Roy's friend and..." "His name is Ted," said the Remozsh annoyingly. 1182 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Ted, and when Miss Andersen looked in Mike's apartment it will all ransacked." Turning to susan, "Is there anything else Miss Andersen?" "Well," she said, "it's mostly Roy's story, so he should tell it." The rat was obviously pleased by this because he started beaming and bouncing up and down on the bed slighly more vigorously, swhortly before beginning his speech. "Mike 'n I have been friends foir a long time, several years, and we always do stuff ogether like wanderin' round town and talking bout stuff. Well, about two weeks ago, whilke I was on shift at lloyds, he told me that he need a building watch ffor him. Hee took me over to tha building the next day and showed me where it was and asked me to watch it. so, after work the next day, i went over and started ta watch 't." Chris' quiet voice uttered something during the rats speech but sielnced when chris realized that the remozsh wouldnt stop speaking. but, as soon as roy took a breath, chris got his questiom in, "roy, why were you supposed to watch the building." "Well, im not really surea and didnt bother asking because it seemed like it'd be fun enough so it didn't matter why i was doin it. but, i think that mike was doin it fer work in order ta get a proimotion 'r somethin, but i dont really understand that stuff." "Where does mike work?" asked Chris' quiet voice. "Oh, down near tha docks in a large buildin." Susan added to roy's description. "Mike works at a factory though i dont know what he put together, and I dont think he even knows." "How can he not know what he's making?" asked john condescendinly, as usual. "All he does, " said the Susan, "is put one or two pieces of metal together into some sort of ball. He never sees the finished object. He thinks that it's shipped over seas." "Sounds whackd to me," said John.
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November 12, 2011 Chris tried to explain. "It's a new way of organizing labor so that the workers don't have to be skilled, so that don't have to spend year of apprenticeship. With manufacturing a crossbow can be made by people who dont know anything about making bows. I read about it in a recent book by Justin Spline." "Yeah, that's kinda what mike said to me," said roy, and then continued, "I followed this guy around named Jim because he kept on leaving and entering the wherehouse, but tha first two times he didn't go anywhere exciting, just shopping and to a ship. But on the third time he went to meet a red-haired guy in a cafe named Henry." "How do you know their names?" asked John, almost accusingly. "Oh, well at the cafe I heard Henry calling Jim, 'Jim,' and I don't know Henry's name. I just made it up." Roy smiled. John gave Dan a look which was equivalent to saying, "This whole thing is stupid." Roy didn't stop to notice John's silent comment to Dan. "Anyway, Jim gave Henry a box that he was carrying." "What'd the box look like?" said Chris "It was about this big, "said Roy as he held out his hands, "and made of wood." "What happened to the box?" "Well, Jim have it to Henry, and they both got up 'n left. I didn't know who I should follow but decided that Henry was more important, so I followed him but I lost him." "Where?" "Someplace around the temple of the sun." "Do you think you could show us where he disappeared?" "Sure, but I sat and waited there all night and didn't see anything. After that I went back and got the bad news from Ted because some guys had left the wharehouse that night and comeback an hour later with Mike. Ted tried to stop them..." 1184 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Who's Ted?" asked John. "Oh, he's a friend." "Where is he now?" asked Chris. "Well, I think he's still watching the wharehouse." "Where did the men take Mike?" "They took him inside the wharehouse, but Ted was thown against the wall and knocked unconscious, so when he got in they were all gone." John couldn't resist. "Well did you go in the wharehouse?" "Oh yeah, lots 'v times. There isn't anything there except lots of smashed-up crates and boards." "But did you see where the people went when they left the wharehouse?" asked Chris. "No way, they never left or came except from that door. We had all of the windows and doors checked by sticks just restin against them. If they opened then the stick would've falled down, but none of them did." "And there weren't any other exits?" asked Chris. "Uh uh." "We'll have to look at the wherehouse. Roy, where d'you think they went." "Well, Ted doesn't believe this, but I think it's magic." John let out an aborted laugh. "Then what happened?" asked Chris.
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November 12, 2011 This time Susan answered. "After that, Roy came running to me and told me what had happened," and she added, "since Mike had introduced me to him before. I didn't believe him until we walked over to Mike's apartment and found it ransacked." "Was there anything unusual left behind?" asked Chris. "It all looked like Mike's stuff. I did find this, though," and Susan handed Chris a piece of paper which she had stuffed in her purse. Chris opened it. "It's the advertisement that I wrote." "Mike must have been in some sort of trouble and was going to contact you. He must have thought you were good enough to look into, so when I saw that Mike was missing, and the police refused to start investigating for three days, I decided to see you. "We're the right ones to see then. Can we go to Mike's apartment now?" asked Chris. Chris got up, followed by everyone else, and walked out the door. After everyone had left, Dan closed the apartment door and made his way up to the front of the line where Chris, Susan, and the Remozsh were talking. "So why would anyone want to kidnap Mike?" asked Chris. "I don't know," answered Susan. "Well," said Roy, "Just over a week ago, about a day after Mike told me to watch the wharehouse, he got in an arguement with Ned because Mike was talking with Shaj, but Ned didn't do anything 'n just left." "Who's Ned and who's Shaj?" "Ned is a guy who hangs around in the corner of Lloyd's and is real obnoxious. Shaj is a Ferazi." Dan noticed that Chris got really interested when Roy mentioned a Feraz. "What was Mike doing talking to a Ferazi?" 1186 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Well Shaj is Mike's friend. They hang out sometimes." Susan had some information here. "I've met Shaj once or twice. Mike helped him out a few years ago and since then they've become friends. I know that they occasionally go out of the city and explore the countryside, but I don't know too much else. I don't really care to be around Ferazi." Chris continued his probing. "So what happened that night?" "Well Shaj came into Lloyd's and talked to Mike for awhile - that's where I met 'im. When Shaj was done he got up and grabbed Ned's hairs. Ned was sitting at the bar, which is unusual, because he always sits in the corner. Anyway, shaj said something quietly to Ned and slammed Ned's head into the counter-top, and then walked out. Ned was knocked unconscious." "That's unusual," commented Chris. "Do Ferazi usually go into Lloyd's?" "Nope. Never. The time that Shaj was there was the only time I've ever seen one. There's only humans to drink, and Remozsh to do the waiting." "So then d'you know why Shaj went to Lloyd's?" "Well I guess he wanted t'talk t'Mike." "Did you hear anything?" "Just that Mike introduced me to Shaj, and then I had to go wait some more tables. I did hear Shaj telling Mike to do anything until he got back, just before Shaj left." "Do you know when Shaj is getting back?" "Nope." "We'll have to talk to him and Ned." Susan slowed down her walk and stopped in front of a set of stairs leading up to a door on the second floor. "We're here," she said, and walked up the stairs followed by Roy, Chris, Dan, and John. 1187 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When susan got to the top of the landing she walked in and lit a lamp inside. By the time Dan got inside, Roy was already scampering around the room and Chris was searching through papers and books which were scattered around the room. Mike's apartment was fairly similar to Dan's in size and character, containing nothing more than a bed, small fire place, dresser, and chair. On the opposite wall was a locked door which led to the landlord's house, the apartment actually being a room of the house, which was rented out because the owner's need some extra money. The bed, however, was flipped over and had its belly torn apart, scattering stuffing throughout the room. The dresser drawers were all removed from the dresser and their contents were dumped on the floor. The top of the dresser had a number of toppled books on it, looking like they were searched through. Even some pictures which had been hung on the wall scattered about, lying face down. Everything in the room had been gone over. "Hey guys," said John from behind Dan. "Look what I found." Dan turned around and saw John holding a sack with a bit of brown stain on the bottom. "What's in it?" asked Dan. "I don't know. I havne't opened it yet. It was just sitting outside on the landing." "I saw it the first time," said Susan, "but never opened it since I figured that it was left by Roy." "I didn't leave it," replied Roy. "I'll look inside then," said John, and he untied the top and peaked inside. As soon as he got his first glimpse John dropped it onto the ground, making a sound like a heavy object. "What is it?" asked Dan, who went to pick it up. "A roo's head." John backed away from the sack and its contents.
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November 12, 2011 Dan felt that he should look for himself so he opened the sack and looked inside. Sure enough, it was a whie Ferazi's head, blood stained, eyes clouded over, and without any ears. "Uh, Miss Andersen. Does your brother's Ferazi look like this?" Susan walked up to the sack and looked in for just a second before averting her eyes and nose. "I don't know. It might be him. I only met him briefly, and they all look the same to me. Shaj only had one ear though." "Well this guy doesn't have any left," answered Dan. "It looks like they were both cut off." "Wann look, Chris?" "No thank you. Not at the moment." Dan, glad that he had no dinner yet, closed the sack up and put it outside, closing the door behind him so that none of the odor would waft in. "So why would anyone leave a roo head here?" asked Dan. Chris answered while he continued to search around. "Maybe it was Ned. He had some sort of scuffle with the Ferazi." Everyone watched as Chris proceeded to make his way around the room, picking up different pieces of paper, books, and other objects such as a small mirror, mape of the empire, small metal cylinder, and a now-broken vase. He examined each piece and then tried to put them back in their proper place, on the dresser, or hanging on the wall. Chris didn't say anything except when he came across a book, and then he would read its title, and author, "The Foundation of the Empire by George Chancer," "Of the Origin of the Guilds, by Fredrick Flagstan," "A Traveller's Guide to the Ishatri Empire, volume Two, by Deredk Halfstar", "Volume Five by Derek Halfstar," "Volume one by Derek Halfstar," and so on. Dan know that Chris had a lot of the same books on his own shelf. Once Chris had searched through everything he gave his synopsis in a quiet voice. "There isn't too much which immediately useful to the case in here. We're going to have to check out the wharehouse. This is the first priority since we, most of all, need 1189 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 to find Mike. I think that it's too late to do it tonight so I'll go there with Roy the first thing tomorrow morning. We also have to talk with Ned and..." Just then, Dan heard a loud thud on the door behind him and turned around just in time to see half of the door fall onto the floor with a thump, and the other half, still hinged to the wall, swing violently inward, slam into the wall, and bounce back, only to be pushed back open by a white figure entering the room. Dan froze when his mind finally comprehended what his eyes saw. Before him, in the broken doorway, stood a Ferazi, holding a sword in its left hand, pulled back and ready to strike. The beast's ears were laid back, mouth half-open open, and coalblack eyes glaring. It took a step forward, taking aim at Dan. Susan screamed something which sounded like, "No!" The blade swung.
CHAPTER 11: BUGBUG
Roy stopped bouncing on the bed as soon as he heard the door break in two and saw it split. Just behind the shattered portal Roy saw the silhoete step forward into the light and turn into an armored Ferazi wielding a sword as tall as Roy in his left hand. 1190 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy didn't know what to do, except run, and was just standing up when Susan yelled, "No." The Ferazi stopped it's charge and room went silent, everyone staring at the Ferazi and wondering what the one-eared creature would do. One ear? Roy just realized that the Ferazi was Shaj, and the Ferazi head outside which was Shaj now wasn't, which meant that maybe Shaj wouldn't kill them. Shaj spoke, "Vere Mike?" Roy had heard Shaj speak in the same rasping voice when Shaj was talking to Mike, and wondered if the Ferazi's throat were soard. No one said anything. "Vere Mike is!" Roy wasn't sure whether that was a question or command. Susan timidly stepped forward and answered, kind-of. "I'm Mike's sister, Susan." "Know I. Vere Mike?" "Uh," Susan hesitated, "There's been a problem." Roy was glad that he didn't have to explain this to Shaj. "Vut." Susan hesitated a moment and then sai, "Shaj, Mike had been kidnapped." She said this very slowly. "Hoo." "I don't know." People in the room were beginning to relax. "Hoo these?" asked Shaj, pointing at Chris, Dan, and John with his sword. Their shoulders tensed up again. "Oh, this is Chris," said Susan, pointed to each person as she named them, "Dan, John." Shaj said nothing. 1191 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy didn't want himself to be forgotten. "Hey!" "Oh, and bad on the bed is Roy." "Know I." Susan waited. "Vie." "Why are they here?" "Yes." "They're here to help find Mike." "Vare." "I'm sorry, Shaj," said Susan, "but I don't understand." "Vare Mike?" "Oh, we think that he's in a wharehouse." "Vie." "I don't know. We're trying to find that out." Shaj looked around and then relaxed is sword for a moment, but brought his arm up slightly after thinking for a moment. "Vie outside F' Rasi head?" His eyes squinted as he said this. "I... I don't know." anwered Susan. "Hoo murder?" Shaj's ears laid back. "I don't know." "Ven find?" 1192 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Just now when we got in." Shaj continued the glaring for awhile and then seemed to relax. His sword tip lowered to the ground, eyes widened, and ears perked up slightly. No one said anything, everyone waiting for Shaj to react. After an unbearbly long pause for Roy, Chris stepped forward, and in his quiet voice, asked. "Shaj, do you know who would kidnap Mike?" The Ferazi turned his attention from Susan, and stared right at Chris, who flinched slightly when he became the Ferazi's subject. "No." Chris became more comfortable with the Ferazi glaring at him. "May, I ask Shaj, why did you meet Mike at Lloyd's?" Shaj squinted. "Travel I. Zay by I." "Where did you go?" Shaj's sword hand twitched. "No." "When you travelled, where did you go to?" Shaj's eye's squinted. "No tell." Chris backed off half a step. "I'm sorry. Could you tell me why you wanted Mike to wait until you got back then?" "Have danger plans, Mike." "What were those plans?" "Danger vith verk." Shaj relaxed again and his sword drooped. "What kind of plans?" 1193 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Not know." "Who was Mike planning with?" Chris said this slowly, tyring not to upset the Ferazi. "Not know." "It's important. It might help us find Mike." Again, "Not know." This time Shaj stressed it. Chris thought for a moment. "Do you know what Mike did at work?" "Not know." "Do you..." "No questions. Enough." commanded Shaj. "Vare Mike?" "We don't know," said Chris. "We're going to look at the wharehouse tomorrow to see if it's inhabited, or where his captors took him." "Now" said Shaj. "But it's too dangerous now that it's dark outside." "Now!" Shaj almost seamed to be yelling. His ears twitched. Chris backed up. Susan broke into the conversation. "We..." Shaj's head jerked over to glare at her. "...don't know enought about these people. They might be dangerous." "No matter. Now." Shaj's sword tip lifted slightly. Dan turned to Chris and whispered something in Chris' ear. Shaj immediately turned to face the two, this time not only rotating his head, but pivoting his whole body. Dan saw this and stopped whispering to Chris. He held up his hands in attempt to calm the Ferazi and stepped back. 1194 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Shaj," said Susan. The Ferazi's head turned to face her. "Please calm down. These men are professional and know what they're doing." The Ferazi turned back to Chris and Dan, and looked them up and down. Roy wondered if you could tell if someone was professional by just looking at them. He couldn't see anything in Dan that made him so. Shaj straightened up and stated, "Tomorrow." "Good," said Chris. "We'll go tomorrow." Shaj said nothing. "Do you know anything else that might help us find Mike?" "Not know." "Where do you live?" Shaj crouched, and pushed his head closer to Chris'. "No!" head said. "I have to know where you can live so that I can get you when we go to the wharehouse." Shaj's head retreated a bit. "Leetel varren." "What street do you live on?" "Leetel varren. Ask vore Shashevaj. Tell you they." "Who should I ask?" "F' Rasi." "Okay, I'll stop by the Little Warren tomorrow and ask for Shashevaj." "Yes." "Will you be around ten?" 1195 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shaj gave a blank stare. "Will you be around tomorrow morning?" "Yes." "If we need to fight to rescue Mike, will you help us?" Shaj nodded and gave a slight grin. "I keel." Chris was taken back a bit. "Okay, then. Deal." Chris held out his hand to shake it with Shaj. Shaj stared at it but did nothing. Not having any hand to shake, Chris retracted his. Roy thought that anyone would shake a human's hand and was surprised to see that Shaj wouldn't. Chris turned to Susan, "Miss Andersen, I'll check out the wharehouse tomrrow morning as soon as it gets light. After that I'll go and find out where Ned lives." Shaj's ear bolted up straight. "Ned?" he said.' "Yes," said Chris. He returned his attention to Shaj. "We were suspecting him since he had an arguement with Mike." "Hoo he." "He's the guy you had a scuffle with in Lloyd's." "Argue vith Mike, he?" Roy actually knew something about what everyone was talking about, and since he knew the most about it, he decided to break in. "Yeah, Ned was asking where you lived but Mike wouldn't tell him." Shaj turned to look at Roy but didn't say anything.
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November 12, 2011 "Anyway," said Chris, "Roy, why don't you stay at my place tonight? You can show me where the wharehouse is tomorrow morning." That got Roy excited. He'd never slept in any human house except for Mike's apartment. "Sure. That sounds fun." Chris looked around. "Okay then, that's it." Dan took over the conversation. "Well Miss Andersen, I guess we'll be going. We'll see you tomorrow." "Sure," she said. "I'm on Cherry Lan. Roy can show you where it is." "We can just walk you back home now. It's getting late out." "Thank you," said Susan. Everyone walked out, except for Shaj, who refused to leave the apartment.
CHAPTER 12: BUGBUG
Chris was very excited, more excited than he'd been in quite a long while, probably since some point prior to teenager-dome when the listlessness of the world overtook 1197 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 him. But now, Chris was on the doorstep of fulfilling a dream which he'd had since childhood, to become an adcenturer, to become someone who could discover people and places never yet seen, and to right injustices. All that chris had to do was open the door in front of him and his long-awaited journey would begin. Chris stepped up to the wharehouse door, barely able to contain his excitement, grabbed the handle, and slowly opened the door, being careful not to let the door squeak and alert anyone inside of his presence. Roy and Ted stood behind him and watched, wondering why chris was so careful because they themselves had been in the wharehouse several times, undoubtedly making tremendous amounts of noise, and wre never caught. Chris was more cautious. The door opened, whining only slightly. The wharehouse interior was mostly dark except for light creapin in through the cracks in the shudder and a few holes in the roof. "Ted, can you get me my lantern." Ted had been waiting all night for Roy to arrive, and was elated when his friend showed up with Chris and a large supply of food which Chris had picked up on the way over. Nothing had happened all night. "Here ya go," said Ted as he handed Chris the lit lantern. Being careful not to open the door too wide, Chris pushed the lantern in and stuck his head in after it, first checking to see if anyone was standing in some corner and pointing a crossbow at him. No one was. The building was one large shell, framed with large timbers covered with pitch, and filled in with wattle and daub. The thatch roof was supported by a series of huge tresses and columns scattered evenly beneath the beams. On the dirt floor were scattered scraps of wood and crates, some of them half dismantled, but none of them large enough to block a man or obscure Chris' view. Nothing else was there. From Roy and Ted's description, this is abouyt what Chris had expected. To make sure, though, that no one was inside, he had walked around the building and examined all of the other doors and windows, noticing Roy's sticks still leaning up 1198 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 against the shutter's and door frames. Aparently, no one had been in or out since Mike was taken hostage, which meant that he was somewhere inside. Chris could see, though, that he definately wasn't in the building, and his mind started to speculate the possibilites, including some sort of secret room against one of the walls whose interior wall was designed to look like it was the exterior wall. Chris looked down and saw that a worn path of footprints travelled from the doorway to the center of the room. Chris was unable to see any footprints diverge from the path, so he followed it with his lantern straight into the center of the room where it ended with a series of bonded boards, probably the top of a crate. Chris walked all around the crate but saw nothing. "What'd you find?" asked Roy in a voice which was too loud for Chris' comfort. The Remozsh must have just run in. "I didn't think you were going to come in," whispered Chris. "Oh," whispered Roy back. "I wanted to see what was up." "Nothing yet." Chris looked up, wondering if the villians had a rope which they climbed up and outonto the roof with. There wasn't even anything aboce the crate end which they could attach a rope to, and only a small hole up at the top just large enough for a bird. They might have gone underneath the board into a cellar. Chris crouched down to lift up the board but noticed that Roy was standing right in the middle of it. "Hey," whispered Chris, "get off. I need to lift this." "Okay," said Roy and ran over to Chris' side. "Shhh," hissed Chris. Roy took the hunt and started whispering again. "What's under there?" "I don't know." 1199 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Chris slid his finger tips underneath the board and lifted. He knew that there had to be something under there, and he was right. Chris' lantern illuminated the underside of the board and a man-sized hole which it covered. He could see ladder rings on the opposite side. "Look, " whispered Chris, "it's an underground cellar." "No!" said Roy, this time way too loud, and he bolted off back through the door. Chris turned around to see where Roy had gone but then was forced to return his attention to the hole when he heard some voices down below. Had they heard them? Chris didn't know and didn't particularly want to find out. He slowly set down the board, picked up his lantern, and crept out of the wharehouse. Once outside, Chris closed the door behind him and looked around for Roy, who couldn't be seen in the alley. Ted was standing out in the mouth of the alley. "Where'd Roy go?" asked Chris. Ted pointed to Chris' right. "He took off that way." "D'you know why he ran?" "Nope. Jest saw 'im run out'a tha door 'n up tha street." Chris decided that he should chase the remozsh down to see what was the problem. He walked out into the alley and then looked in the portion where Ted was pointing. A few blocks down, Chris saw a short running figure which he assumed was Roy and took of after him with a brisk walk. Chris chased Roy past two more streets, and nearly caught up with him when Roy turned a corner and vanished from Chris' sight. Just as Chris reached the corner he heard a clanking, and when he turned it, saw a garbage can lid mysteriously sliding back onto its can. Roy was no-where to be seen.
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November 12, 2011 Suspect that Roy had hid in the garbage can, Chris walked up to it and lifted the lid. Inside huddled Roy, sitting down at the bottom of the chest, knees against his chest, held tightly by his arms, and his head tucked into those. Roy looked up. "Roy, why'd you run?" asked Chris. "Are they after us?" Ted ran around the corner and stopped by Chris and the agrbage can. "Who 'r you talking about?" "Tha voices underground," said Roy. Chris looked around, just to make sure that no one had followed them out of the wharehouse. "No. No one's after us." They still might have been though, since anyone down there had a good chance of hearing roy's exclamation. "Good," said Roy. He got up and started climbing out of the can. "I don't want 't be taken undergound." "They won't. They don't even know we were listening." "But are you sure the monsters didn't hear us?" "What're you talking about? There aren't any monsters." Roy, unable to climb out, tipped the garbage can over and fell down with it. He came out crawling on his hands and knees. "Yes there are. There 're lots ov 'em. My mother told me all about 'em." "But those are children's stories." "But..." "My mother probably told me the same ones. They're invented to make kids go to sleep." 1201 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "But... My mother told me never to go underground because there are bad things. Even going near a hole is bad." "Why would she tell you anything like that?" asked Chris. "Well, because her mother said so, and so did here grandmother. They know that there 're monsters underground." "I've read a lot of books, Roy, and except for the occasional bear in a cave, there aren't any monsters underground." Chris didn't mention the Derek Halfstar stories which talked about his adventures under the ground, and those were definately populated with monsters. "Then what were those sounds?" "People. They were just people." "But why 're they down there?" Roy had an awful lot of questions. "I don't know," said Chris, feeling like he was being pestered by a child. "They must be hiding out." "Oh." "That's where they took Mike, and that's why they only came in and out of that door, and you couldn't find them after they'd gone in." "Oh." Ted broke in. "What's this talk 'bout underground?" Chris turned to Ted. "Oh, the men have some sort of undergound hideout." "Underground?" "Yeah." "You're not gonna go down there, are you?" Ted even seemed to be afraid. 1202 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I don't know." Chris knew that he'd have to at some point but didn't think admitting it to the Remozsh would do anything but produce more questions. "Ya can't go there. It's bad." "I don't get it. What's so bad about an uinderground cellar?" "Jest is. Somethin bad lives undergound. My mother told me so, jest like Roy's. And so did my grandmother, all that way back." "Don't worry. I won't go alone." "Still, ya shouldn't go." Chris took a deep breath and let it out, preparing a rebuttle. "I have to rescue Mike. What else am I supposed to do?" Neither Roy nor Ted had any answer to that, so they quieted down and stopped asking questions. Chris, on the otherhand, began proffering his own questions to himself. Namely, what was he going to do now that he know where Mike was being kept - or probably kept. Chris could always take a walk down to the police station and tell them that Mike was kidnapped and that Chris knew where Mike was. Of course, that would bring up the whole story, requiring Chris to tell them that he was taking the word of two Remozsh, something which the police had, unsurprisingly, discounted before. But, perhaps an even better reason not to get the police involved, was that Chris would be taken off the case, would lose his life's dream of becoming an explorer, and would lose all payment. That reminded something that Chris had to do, negotiate with Miss Andersen for terms of payment, something which he had completely forgotten to do last night. Either way, seeing the police was out. Chris could get the group together, Dan and John, and maybe even Shaj, to go recapture Mike with force. Carrying weapons and armor around during the daylight wasn't a very good idea though since the cop's didn't like it. Chris would be best to 1203 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 wait until night when fewer cops were around and it was darker. But, such a delay might put Mike into danger. What else could Chris do? Bargaining was always a possiblility, but with how much money? And why would the captors want any ransom if they hadn't left a ransom note when they captured Mike in the first place. Chris wondered if he could smoke the kidnappers out with a fire, but quickly dismissed this because they were down below. Smoke tends to rise. The only choice seemed to be an assault on their hideout and a rescue of Mike. Chris, Dan, and John could all fight, thought they were no-where near seasoned warriors. Shaj, on the other hand, seemed to be very battle trained, almost too much, and would be a good addition to the group if Chris could convince him to come along. John wouldn't like that very much and Dan would be cautious. Hell, Chris didn't like being near the Ferazi when he had his sword out, but at least this time it wouldn't be pointed at him. Deciding upon an assault led to another question. How many kidnappers were there. "Ted, how many people did you see take Mike in?" "Three, I think." If only three people were there, and if they weren't trained fighters with adequate equipemnt, then Dan, John, Shaj, and Chris would have no troubles. Of course, if they were well armed then the odds would be closer. Or, if there were more people then problems would arise. Chris had to know how many people were down in the cellar. "Come on. I'm going back to find out how many people 're down there." "No. Don't do that." begged Roy. "I'm not going down. I'll just listen from above. It'll be perfectly safe." Or so Chris hoped.
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November 12, 2011 Chris walked back to the wharehouse with Ted and Roy trailing behind. The area didn't look like anyone had been there since Chris, so he decided that it was safe and opened the door just a crack to look inside. No one was there. Chris crept into the wharehouse and made his way to the center where he lifted up the board and listened. He heard a few voices drifting up through the portal, and though he couldn't understand what they were saying, their words being very muted, Chris did recognize a few different voices, probably two or three. Since this number corresponded well to Ted's number, and since that's all that had ever been seen entering the building, Chris figured out that it was a reasonable guess, as good as he'd get without going down. Chris slowly lowered the wood and crept out of the building. While Chris was walking out, he wondered if one of the voices was Mike asnwering as he was being interrogated, but he really couldn't say because he'd never heard Mike. Now all that Chris had to do was to get everyone together together tonight. John and Dan would be free at night, but were currently both at work; Chris had only gotten off because he worked for his father in the family store. Although Chris doubted that Susan knew anything about combat, he needed to talk to Susan about the fee. He wondered if he could stop by her house now, but didn't know if she'd be in. The other party to contact was the Ferazi, and Chris had made tentative arrangements to meet him today, and even though Chris wasn't excited about travelling into one of the Ferazi's ghettos, places from which had come horrorible tales of murder, Chris realized that Shaj would be useful for the combat. And, after all, it was an adventure, and that's what Chris was seeking. "I've got 't go to the little warren to talk to Shaj," said Chris. "Ted, can you watch the fort some more." "Sure can, as long as ya feed me." "I'll do that. I'll come by later with some lunch, or if I can't make it I'll send Roy." "Could ya make that 'n order 'v barbequed chicken legs." "Sure. I'll try," said Chris. Turning to Roy, "Roy, do you know how to get to the little warren?" 1205 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Hmm," muttered Roy. "Is that the one on the south end or near the middle of tha city?" "In the center." "Sure, I know right where it is. Just follow me." Roy took off out the alley, followed by Chris, and wound his way through numerous streets which Chris had never seen, only occasionally making a wrong turn into a dead end and being forced to backtrack. Before Chris new it, he followed Roy into a run-down section whose streets were completely devoid of people, merchants, or any other symptom of city life, the little warren. Occasionally Chris would look around and glimpse a white-furred head sticking out of a doorway or window, and staring spitefully at Roy and Chris. Roy didn't seem to notice, but Chris felt like he was in more danger than when he had accidentally walked into the whore-house district a few years ago, where the most menacing looking people sat at their front doors and glared at any passerby's, probably deciding how they would rob or murder their prey. The Ferazi which Chris saw wore the same glare. Chris wanted to get out of the ghetto as quickly as possible, so he stopped to talk to the first Ferazi he saw and asked for Shaj. That happened to be a Ferazi wearing a roughly woven tunic with some sort of animal shapes on, who was packing a horse with several bags. Chris walked up to it. "Hi," said Chris. Luckily, Roy didn't say anything. The Ferazi stared. "I'm looking for a Ferazi." Nothing except a malicious stare. "Uh, his name is Shashevaj. He told me to stop by." It blinked. 1206 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "He told me that I should find someone, a Ferazi I mean, and ask for him. He said you'd know where to find him." The Feazi started to turn away. "Do you know where his is?" I continued it's packing and then led its horse off around the corner. "I guess not." That didn't work very well. Chris looked around and found another Ferazi, this one sitting on a chair just outside a door, about twenty meters away. Chris walked up to it, but before he could get within talking distance, it picked up its char and went inside, closing the door after itself. "So Roy," said Chris. "What do we do now?" "Maybe the first guy went and got Shaj?" "I suppose we could wait awhile." Chris looked around and saw more Ferazi eyes staring at him. "Maybe they don't want t' talk to us." "It sure looks like it." Chris continued to notice new faces popping out. "Maybe we can find Shaj's place ourselves." "How?" There weren't any humans within sight or hearing. "Just go knocking on all the doors." Some of the doors had opened wider. "I don't think so. I think we'd better go." "What about Shaj?"
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November 12, 2011 "No. I think we should go right now." Chris felt as though a whole score of evil eyes were laid upon him and planning his murder. Chris started to walk slowly back the way he had come, attempting to look in every direction as often as possible. When Chris looked behind himself he saw a Ferazi walking up the street towards him, sword strapped by its side. Deciding that he'd make a really big mistake to come to the ghetto, Chris picked up his walk to almost a jog. "Krees," said the voice Ferazi behind him. Chris guessed that it meant, "Get him!" in Ferazi. "Krees!" yelled the voice. Chris looked around for a moment and saw the Ferazi waving to him. It only had one ear. It must be Shaj. Chris turned around and walked cautiously up to the Ferazi, unable to conclusively identify the Ferazi as Shaj. They all looked the same, with mangy white fur, two long, and menacing eyes. How many Ferazi could there possible be with only one ear? "Shaj?" asked Chris.. "Jes. What news?" asked Shaj. "I went to the wharehouse. There's an undergound cellar with some people in it." "See Mike." "No. I only heard some voices." "Hear Mike." "I don't know what he sounds like." "Go I. Listen I. Get Mike I." Chris noticed that the Ferazi heads in the doorways had disappeared. "I think we should wait until tonight when we can go armed." Shaj was quiet for a moment. "Jes. Police bad. Night good." 1208 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That was surprisingly simple. After having to deal with the Ferazi last night, Chris had expected a long and stunted arguement. "How about meeting at my place tonight?" "Don't know where." "It's on Lakely road." "Don't know." "Do you know where Dan's place is then?" "Don't know roads." "How about Mike's place? You've been there before." Shaj nodded. "Eez good. Go vith sword, I." "Good. How about seven o'clock tonight?" Shaj look puzzled. "Don't know." It appeared that Shaj didn't know about time measurement anymore than he knew road names. "At sunset?" "Ah, go then I." "Okay then," said Chris, and just to make sure that Shaj understood, "We'll be waiting for you at Mike's place at sun-down. Come with your sword and armor." "Good," said Shaj. "Bye then." Shaj said nothing. He just walked away. Chris went the opposite direction and headed toward's Miss Andersen's, letting out his breath when he walked past the first human on the road.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 13: BUGBUG
John was relieved as he followed Dan up the stairs and into Mike's already lit apartment, having spent the last fifteen minutes feeling like someone thinking that he was attending a costume party, but walking into a formal, best-dress event in which everyone was nicely attired, except himself, who was dressed as a court jester. Luckily, though, no one had seen Dan or John walk through the streets dressed like outmoded heros of the past, or contemporary crazies escaped from the city's insane asylum. The problem, that is, the embarrasing one which John now wore, started around lunch time when Chris, all excited about something, found John's work place and told John about the wharehouse, and the secret basement underneath. That was, John felt at the moment, a perfectly fine piece of news which meant that the case was over and that they'd get paid, although he'd never heard anyone discussing a fee with the woman... What was her name? Susan. The news made John pretty excited. But then, Chris pulled the rug out from under John. Chis had already volunteered John and Dan to assault the bandit's hideout, as Chris called it, and rescue Dan. John called it breaking and entering with intent to injure, and a very stupid idea if one wanted to live a free man, albeit in a good cause. Of course, John had tried his best to get out of it, but he had been trapped and forced into the stupidity, because not only had Chris already convinced Dan that breaking-and-entering was a good idea that was likely to solve the case, but he had also approached Susan and volunteered 1210 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 his two friends for the task. Chris expected Dan and John to get dressed up in the leather armor which they had purchased, tied on their sword belts, grab their shields, and trapse through half the city, hoping that the city guard would either be absent or would turn na blind eye on the charade. Now when John had chipped in his money with Chris and Dan to buy the equipment, he had never actually considered that it might be used in a real situation. The armaments were cool, made for a good story, and looked good hanging on the wall. Nothing more. In John's mind, they were never to bve used except when Chris would force Dan and John to pull them out in order to do mock combats. Not real ones. Once volunteered John felt trapped, and decided that refusing to follow Chris' crazy idea would make him a weenie. It was pier pressure, John supposed. So, John accepted and promised Chris that he'd be the first one to get blamed if anything went wrong. But then the news got worse. Chris had not only visited Susan and Dan, but he had gotten up enough courage to travel into the little warren, where he almost got himself killed, and asked the roo to join them in the fight. John was a reasonable guy, and he knew that a fighting roo on their side would greatly improve their chanced of success. Hell, Ferazi were mean fighters, and having one on John's side made him feel more comfortable. John's problem hinged on which side the Ferazi actually took though. What if, during the combat, the roo suddenly decided that it didn't care to be fighting and just ran off? Or what if, after the enemy had been subdued, probably all decaptiated by the Ferazi, it still thursted for blood and turned on Dan, Chris, or John? Or even worse, what would the police do if they found Chris, Dan, John, and the roo, fully armored, walking down the dark city streets? If it were only Chris, Dan, and John, they might be able to claim that they were heading for a costume party (with real weapons) and had gotten lost. Even though the real weapons would cause a problem, a good bribe and some lying would get them off. But, with a roo in toe, such an excuse wouldn't work. John could just imagine the conversation: "Ah, so yer goin off ta a costume party, are yeh?" would say the disbelieving cop. "Sure are," is what John would answer, tyring to put on as innocent a voice as possible. "I see. And yer friend here, tha roo. That's a mighty realistic custume." 1211 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Sure is." John would get nervous. "Tha fur work is explicit. Might I take a look at it?" John wouldn't be able to answer this. "Here, come you, mister roo. Take off yer head?" And what was the Ferazi supposed to do? John would be locked up as a traitor so quickly that he wouldn't remember the trip to the castle. The Ferazi was definately not a good idea. As john climbed the final step to Mike's apartment, just before he got a glimpse inside the window, hoped that the roo had gone back on its word and had failed to come. He was wrong. Standing against the far wall was the roo, dressed in armor and wearing a sword at its side. "Don't open the door too quickly," whispered John. "We don't want to startle the ra... Ferazi. It might attack us." "Oh, okay." answered Dan. Dan reached the landing, knocked on the door, waiting to make sure that nothing came chargin out, and then slowly opened it. He peaked in and said, "Hi". "Howdy," came a Remozsh's voice. Damn, thought Dan, the rat is here also. Now the cop would be able to comment on the reality of the rat's costume. We've got a whole barnyard full of costumes. Shit! Dan and John had noticed a horse tied up near the bottom of the staircase, and now he put several facts together and realized that it was the roo's mount. Hell, they had the whole barynard. John reached the door, walked in, and closed it behind him. Everything in the room was just the way they had left it yesterday. "Howdy. Wanna shake?" said the rat to John. 1212 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Why did it have to single out John. It didn't ask Dan if he wasnted to shake hands. "No," said John in an icy voice. The rat retracted its hand. Of course, John knew why. It was some sort of curse which he must have had placed on him, or just bad luck. Whenever John would walk anywhere, even to the corner bar, bums and street urchins would gravitate directly towards him, completely ignoring anyone else with whom he was walking. They'd always be asking for money to be used for some mythical cause, to go for new shoes, for their baby, their family, or so that they could eat for the first time in a week. John suspected that most of them made more money than he did, and would retire to their homes at night to a leg of lamb and a comfortable bed. Eventually, John got so tired of this harassment that he started to toy with the beggers, refusing to given them money, but offering to buy them new shoes or the meal which the cash would supposedly go to. Most of them, hypocritically, refused and came up with some new reason for the money, to pay a doctor or some other debt. However, to John's surprise, a few took up his offer, and John only felt it fair to walk with them to the nearest market and buy them from bread. However, John had no sympathy for rats. From his experience with them at work, they only worked when the whim overtook them and they could never be depended up. If they'd only make an effort to get to work in the morning, they wouldn't ever need to beg. Begging, however, was different for some people who couldn't work because they had children or some injury. John found himself a chair and sat down, waiting for Chris, the final member of the group, to arrive before they could march the custome party off to the wharehouse. No one talked, not even trifling small-chat, and the silence which pervaded the room was uncomfortable. John didn't feel like breaking it, having no wish to speak to either the roo or the rat, and not willing to start up a conversation with Dan because John knew that the roo would only stare coldly at the two and listen to their conversation, probably making some sort of rooish judgements. The Remozsh, of course, being a chatty one, would break in and ramble about something or other which John didn't care about. Staring at each other in silence seemed like the better solution. Once the rat had been deprieved of any sensory diversion for a few seconds longer than its purile brain could withstand, it began pacing around the room looking for 1213 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 some kind of entertainment. Failing to find any in the other three occupants of the room, all of which stared cooly at the rat, following it around the room with their eyes, and unable to discover any hidden trasure underneath the dresser or bed, the Remozsh hopped up on the bed and sat down. At first it complated itself by rotating its head slowly throughout its entire arc, probably hoping that something exciting had magically appeared, and then by slowly swaying its dangling feet back and forth percipice of the bed's edge. A minute or two later, it became bored with that diversion, or so john concluded, when it discovered that it could bounce up and down on the bed. Watching the urchin rat made john immensely grateful that he wasn't one, or even closely related. Sometimes john would play with people, toy with their minds, in order to see how they would react to different stimuli. John wasn't really sure why he cared what other people did, but because he found it amusing, guessed that he did so because he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't at all like the subjects he tortured, pitting off his predicted reactions against the toy's. The rat's was so far below par, walking around, trying to shake stranger's hands, and being oblivious to the tension in the room, that John concluded that if he were the Remozsh, he'd be forced to kill himself out of disgust. Just looking at the creature made john feel ill. Here was this creature, completely clueless, which walked around the city, shoe-less, wearing clothing which must have been taken from a refuse pile several years before the rat was born, and not having been washed since. Hell, the rat's clothes were the same color as its brown fur, matted down with mud and grease, and not washed in an equally long time. John could imagine several colonies of lice and flies, sitting on thheir verandas and enjoying the forst of unwashed hairs, an old, toothless geaser lice rambing on some yarn about the great washing of sixty nine, when half the county was washed off the world and the toxic soap did off most of the rest. Of course, all of this was long before the yound-uns were born, and they couldn't imagine sucha terrible disaster ever befalling their bounteous world. Why did Dan even let the rodent along? The rat stopped bouncing, looked around, sighed, and then stared blankly. Getting some sort of brilliant idea, it lept off the bed and bolted over to the dresser, opening each of the drawers and digging around them with its filty hands. John dared to wonder where those hands had been, trying to count all of the carbage cans they had 1214 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 sifted through, how mnay pieced of ofal they had clutched, and... Disgusting. The rat didn't even have enough sense to clean itself, something which even the high-andmighty cats could handle, although John didn't consider licking oneself too sanitary. This Remozsh, the Hi-I'm-Roy thing, had no pride. Even it's face was soiled, adding to the eyes to make a rather dumb look, saying, "Hi I'm Roy. I'm a rat. I'm stupid." The remozsh got bored of rummaging through dressers so it sulked back to the bed, sat down, and staired blankly at the floor. John stared blankly at it. And thern John got bored and turned his attention to the white Ferazi, or at least yellowed-white. It sat in the same stance which it had assumed all night, erect and staring off into space, thinking about god-new-what, probably some fantastic new form of torturing humans which it had just learned. If the thing could smile, the roo would be giving a great big, maniacle grin. But of course, roos can't smile, not having the personality or even facial disposition for it. The ferazi's head was very much the same as a roo's, glazed black eyes, yellowed buck teeth peaking through a hair-lip mouth, and long pink ears which swivelled around from time to time. This one, though, had one of its cut two thirds of the way down, as though it had been attacked by some good-ole-boy hunters, a few of which John had met. They were just regular guys, John though sarcastically, who had a whooping time of going around the city and doing some roo hunting, cutting themselves a trophy off their kill. Since a lucky roos food would be too big to fit into their pocket, they'd take its ear, or sometimes its fingers, and show them off to their equally idioticc pals. The good-ole-boy network considered it some sort of trophy woth showing around. John thought it was pretty gross, but he wasn't going to do much complaining because if the wackos of the world didn't have the roos to go after, they'd be hunting humans for sport. Why didn't the Ferazi do something about the missing ear? It could make a fake ear or something to hide the unevenness. But, thought John, it undoubtedly considered its missing ear as much of a status symbol as the good-ole-boys enjoyed showing the same ear around to their friends. The two groups lived a symbiotic relationship, each one pissing each other off and giving each other a cause to continue living their own dreams. One dearly wanted to believe that crime and conspiracy were solely created by the Ferazi, and the roos just sulked around and acted opressed. Well, they were 1215 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 both right, as near as John could tell. The bloody Ferazi were always scheming something, doing a few murders because they were opressed. And of course, the roos were forced into ghettos because they were too dangerous to be around people, but not only that. They were opressed because they were so introverted, so strange. John considered the Ferazi which he was staring at to be a perfect example of the race's insanity. Dan and John walked into the room, made a firendly greeting, and got nothing back but an unflinching stare, not even a "How's it going?" from the creature. Last night, the roo had almost killed them, and would have if it hadn't recognized Susan, just because of some sort of territorial instinct it had. Who in their right mind would want to have a neightbor like that, it'd either whack of your head if you happened to greet it while it was in a bad mood, or just stare coldly at you while you gave it your nicest, "Hello." Hell, it was doing it right now, its pupils stairing straight off to the side, glazed over, just like a sick horse which John had seen lying on the street a few years ago, foam dripping from its mouth. When the horse stopped breathing a few minutes lated, its eyes stayed open and continued to stare in the same deathly manner. Now that John was thinking about it, the Ferazi's fur looked an awful like the dead horse's fur, kind of matted down, like a dreanched cat's fur, or one that had been greased with lard, and John had thrown enough cats in water to know what they looked like. The time he attempted to grease up a neighbor's cat wasn't so succesful, so he only managed to get the front half. Judging from his experience, John suspected that the Fereazi's fur was really a fluffy white, but because of the grime which had somehow acquired over the ytears, had been tinted into a sickly yellow shade. John doubted that any flea colonied could survive in its fur, and that any explorers had all died of some mysterious disease when they landed on the new-found territory. Anchoring the Ferazi's glazed eyes, the roo's head was held erect by a large, bull-like, neck covered with the same off-white fur. Unlike all of the humans which John had seen with such huge necks, the roo's shoulders were somehow too small for the neck, and extended forward, along with a rounded rib-cage, to form a barrel chest. This was covered with a shirt of rusting chainmail, through whose links tufts of fur stuck out the idiotic creature not even wearing padding underneath. The roo, John 1216 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 guessed sarcastically, must consider chainmail on bare skin to be very manly, or rather, roo-ly, perhaps in an effor to show off its powerful chest to the does. John felt that it looked more like a starving dog's chest than that of a powerful fighter. John took around to see if anything else exciting had happened in the room, but Dan waas still staring into the middle of the room, and the rat had managed to bounce to the other end of the room. How long till Chris would arrive? John was getting bored. Having nothing else to occupy his time, John returned to the white beast and resumed his in-depth scrutiny. The Ferazi's arms, covered with the same rusting links and spikes of fur, didn't look very muscled, just mis-proportioned, like everything else on the roo was. The length of the arm that attached to the shoulder, John wasn't sure what its name was, was too short for a Human, and the other too long and unusally flat, especially about the wrist. Attached to that was a long hand with stubby fingers, if they could really be called that. At what point does a claw become a finger, when it can grasp object? The roo could do that. Or when it loses talons and acquires finger nails? The roo didn't have finger nails. Everything was wrong about the Ferazi, especially the hands. The "finger-tips" ended in matte black claws, and the thumb was placed incorrectly, too far back from the fingers to make it fully functional. After staring at the hands, which resembed the viscious claws attributed to any of the imaginary demons which John had heard about, he wondered what he was doing cohorting with this thing? When John was older, if he ever lived that long, he would look back and remember tonight as one of the stupidest things which John had ever done, even worse than when he had gotten himself wasted and tried to pick a fight with a city guard. Although sometimes proven wrong, John could extract a personality from a person's appearance, clothing, and initial behaviour. John would play a game with himself, looking over people when he first met them, watching them for a few minutes, and then guess at a personality. Several months later, after having spent some time with the new acquaintance, John would recall his first impressions and make comparisons. Usually he was right. Although John could never pin down exactly what rules he used to guess, there were certain give-aways: a smiling face, a sloping forehead, the way the person slouched, what he did when he was bored, his walk, the color of his skin, how he moved. If the Ferazi had been human and had the same general traits, John 1217 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 would have stayed well away it. Why didn't John listen to his instinct? Because he was stupid. The Ferazi turned it's head and looked out the window into the darkness. Amazing! It actually did something, if looking out a pitch-black window could be considered a rational action. But wwas it really looking out the window? It's nose was pointing that direction, but a roo's eyes didn't look forward, but off to the side, kind of an extended peripheral vison. Considering the action that way, then one of the eyes was looking straight at John. This thing was creepy. John stared back, giving his nastiest look, tensing up his forehead, lowering his eyebrows, and squinting. John returned his own unblinking stare to the roo, and initiated a staring contenst, whether or not the Ferazi was likewise engaged. The furred eyelid blinked several seconds later. John won. His victorious eyes returned to the rest of the defeated roo. Where had he left off? The hands. John couldn't move his gaze away from the hands yet, being amazed by the un-naturalness of them. The finger nails, (or were they claws?) were very odd, with the nails on its left hand, except for the thumb, looking like they were sharpened to a point, while the other hand's fingers were sharpened to a bevelled edge. With one hand having spear-head claws, and the other blades, did the creature use one hand to impale the victim and the other to slit his throat? That sure sounded in character. One of the roo's hand rested on the Ferazi's lap, its waist covered by a kilt of brown woven fabric, almost as rough as sack cloth, with animal shapes of white and black woven into the crude material. John recognized idealized images of birds, turtles, and horses. Below the kilt were the roo's legs, similar to the creature's arms in their misproportioned bones, but much larger. The actual leg part was short, but the roo's feet were twice as long as any humans, and they were very flat, seemingly without a heel. And just like the beast's hands, attached at the end of its legs were large clawed toes spread apart on the ground, neither of which appeared to be sharpened or cleaned. The feet, devoid of shoes, were covered with mud, coloring the sickly white fur brown. John mused that it's feet were even more filthy than a cat's, and wondered if 1218 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 it ever clean them. Of course, cats, and bunny roos too, licked themselves clean. Did the Ferazi?. John could imagine the animal sitting slouched over in its armor, the chainmail rings jingling as the Ferazi's ugly head slid back and forth, licking its greasy fur. John stopped before he had gotten any more disgusting, already have had enough to satisfy his curiosity. John avoided the disgusting thoughts about the roo's hygene, and looked for a new topic of observance, first out the window - It was still dark -, and then to Dan, who was still sitting on his chair and staring down at the ground, not willing to make a move, or perhaps zoned out and hoping he were somewhere else. "Hey," interrupted the rat, "Why is everyone so quiet?" Dan, John, and the roo looked at it, contemplated whether an answer were worth while, and then said nothing. John almost laughed. The rat didn't realize what was right in front of it's twitching nose, maybe even didn't know if it had a nose. John thought about asking it about this but was afraid that it'd start the rat talking. No one said anything in reply, however, and after a while all eyes averted themselves from the rodent except John's, which continued to provide a nasty stare. John decided to start a game with the Remozsh, which, of course, it didn't know that it participated. But, that was the fun, teasing and taunting it until it realized that it was part of the game, or rather it was the game, and that it was being played with? John continued to stare. Roy, standing between the three silent thinkers, turned around, looking from its furry relative in white, getting no sympathy, then to Dan, again no entertainment, and finally to John, which it saw was staring right at itself. "What's goin' on?" it asked John. "Nothing. Shut up," was John's curt reply, who didn't expect the rat to obey him. "But why?" came the clueless response. "Why isn't anyone saying anything?" John put on a dead-pan face, something that would have alerted any of his friends that he was being sarcastic. "I don't know," John said coolly, "What do you think?" 1219 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I don' know," said the rat, and then it paused to think, its finger resting on its lips, as though that somehow turned on its mental faculties. This question had obviously stumped it and John had only started. John had already answered one question with a "What", so he had only four choices now, "Where", "When", "How", or "Why". John waited patiently for the next question. "But how am I s'posed ta find out if ya won't tell me?" That was an easy one to follow. "But why should I tell you?" "Cause." John waited while it thought. "Where's Chris?" it asked, changing the subject slightly. "How come you want to know?" "Well, cause we're waitin' for him." "When?" John knew that it was a weak response, but it'd fly right over the rat's head anyway. "When what?" "When." "Oh, I get it," answered the Rat, but John doubted it. "You wan't to know when Chris' s'posed to arrive." "I might." "But that depend's where Chris is now," said Roy. John wondered if it had caught on and figured out the rules. He still wanted to play around and find out for sure, though. "So where is he?" asked John.
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November 12, 2011 "Coming up the stairs!" The rat joyfully kicked its legs against the bed's edge, jumped off, and opened the door. John lost his chance to play the game. John heard some footsteps climbing up the stairs and then watched Chris walk into the light, all decked out in his armor, sword at his side, and obviously proud of it. Chris was probably comparing himself with Derek Halfwit at the moment, making grand plans of fantasies which were yet to come in future chapters. John wished that he could feel that way, but he knew that this endeavor was pointless and stupid, although it did provide him a diversion to his usually boring nights. John was fealing reasonably good, but then some more foot-steps followed Chris up the stairs and Susan Anderson walked in, her hair tied back into a pony tail, crimson wearing pants, and a black riding cloak, partially occluding a lengthy dagger strapped to her side. The first question which entered into John's mind was, what was she doing here? A woman couldn't do anything in combat, especially being without armor and inexperienced. John's next question, but how did she know to meet here? That wes obvious; Chris stopped by her place and invited here, just like he'd invite some woman to a dance or to meet his parents. Well, here she was, all ready to meet the parents, and all that was here were the family's pets, a roo and an over-friendly rat. Why did Chris bring here? Chris knew all of this, or at least John hoped so, but undoubtedly he had read a similar tale in one of his Derek Halfwit books, perhaps talking about some great, but imaginary, woman fighter who had saved the day. Susan would be luckey if she weren't killed or wounded, going into battle without any kind of armor or weapon. It was stupid, and it put John back in his bad mood. Dan stood up, gave Chris a nasty look - Dan didn't like the woman being here either. and said, "Welp, we're all here. Let's get going." The roo and Remozsh followed Dan's lead and got to thier feet, followed by John who wasn't too excited to go outside dressed in a Haloween costume when it was six months away. He closed the door and descended the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the Ferazi mounted its horse. The whole group headed for the wharehouse, led by the bouncing rat, who walked, sometimes running, in front of of the band. Whenever the Remozsh would get too far in front of the group, it'd stupidly backtrack to until it got within touching distance 1221 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 of the Ferazi's horse, and then turn around and head on towards the wharehouse. John hoped that it was heading that way, anyway, because he certainly didn't know where it was, and doubted that in the darkness anyone did, maybe even the Rat. Behind the rat, riding at an almost majestic pace, was the Ferazi, dressed in a black cloke, covering its entire body from ear-tips to clawed toes, and riding its black horse. Dan walked right behind the horse, followed by Chris and Susan walking next to each other. Of course, John followed along at the rear, cautiously looking around for any cops. Luckily, the costumed group didn't run into any cops, or anyone at all, and made it to the wharehouse without any of the embarassments which John had anticipated. When the rat did finally make a turn into the alley, John heard it yell out, "Hey Ted. We're here!" Another rat stepped out and said something to Roy, but John didn't hear, and wasn't even interested. One rat had enough stupidity to last John for the night, and he certainly didn't need another one to start babbling its clueless questions. The Ferazi reigned up its horse, dismounted, led the horse over to a corner in the alley, and then walked up to the door. "That's the door," said Roy. "Ya just go in 'n there's the hole in the middle 'v tha room." The roo opened the door, stuck its head in, and perked up its ears. Someone lit up a lantern, probably Dan, and held it up, causing the roo's eyes to glow red, exposing its true demonic nature. Opening the door futher, the Ferazi crept into the wharehouse, followed by Dan, who was in fact carrying the lantern, and then Chris and Susan. John, not wishing to appear too much of a jerk, followed up at the end of the line and walked into the wharehouse, a large and very empty building. Roy scuttled in behind John. Chris walked past the roo and over to a large board in the center of the wharehouse, and lifted it up, giving the roo an opportunity to stick its head in the hole and perk up its ears. It stuck its legs into the hole, bent over and grabbed onto something on the opposite end, and starting climbing down. Chris set the board down gently to the ground and followed in after the roo. Dan and Susan were next. 1222 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was John's turn, so he walked up to the hole and looked in. He could see Susan half way down, holding onto some rungs which were embedded in the rock, on the opposite side of Jhon. Dan reach the bottom and his light started to wander away with him. John wondered briefly why no combat had started but seeing as he didn't hear anything, assumed that no-one was really down there and it was just some story of the rat. John sat down, grabbed on to the top-most rung with his hands, and descended a few steps, noticing the tight fit which his shield, strapped to his back, caused. John climbed down into a completely unknown cellar, wearing wax-boiled leather, a sword on his side, a shield strapped to his back, and was entering a situation which might lead into combat. Tonight would live long in John's memory as one of the stupidest things he had ever done. Just before he reached the bottom, John also made a mental note that he was also following a sword-wielding roo, probably the most dangerous thing down here, into its hole. Stupidest thing John had ever done.
CHAPTER 14: BUGBUG
An excerpt from: A Traveller's Guide to the Ashtari Empire. Volume I. The Underground. by Derek Halfstar. Published in the year 1024 of the Ashtari Empire.
The Remozsh Connection
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November 12, 2011 Only two short years ago, while adventuring up around Willinshire, located in the Willin forest, next to the Ranson mounains, and famous for its exquisitely smithed weapons, I discovered a most curious puzzle which led me to an even greater mystery and wonder. However, I must say that I discovered a truth so unbelievable that the reader will assume it to be false, just as I would have if the proof had not been all around me. Before I divulge my secret, though, let me indulge my propensity to expound, and begin my story some weeks before the shocking revelation began. I had been doing adventuring work in Willinshire for quite some time, and I must say, provided with plenty of business, although it was, unfortunately, not to my taste. Now I'm sure that the reader well knows that Willinshire is a small farming hamlet, of such size and character that learned folk find few baubles to exciteme their minds, although the villagers are enthralled by the small village's happenings, and will gossip about endlessly within their circle. Being an adventurous soul myself, living in a hamlet devoid of evil wizards, cunning thieves, and great barbarian hordes, I was forced to more menial labor than my proposed profession, although I must admit that it was no less challenging. While I was employed in Willinshire, it seemed that some whim of nature caused an unusual explosion in the number of farmer's cows which tired of their pastoral dinners, packed up their bags, and wandered off to greener pastures, depriving their legal owner of his much valued property. Having acquired a reputation, I would get a great many contracts to seek out these fugitive bovines and return them to their owners, and although bovine history paints these creatures as incredibly stupid and easier to track than a galloping heard of buffalo, I discovered what every farmer in the region knew, that these escapees were more clever than their heard instinct would imply. Some of these beasts would cross a river or two in order to lose their scent, purposefully travel over rocky ground, and, although I don't believe it myself, leap across wide ravines. Inevitably, being a skilled tracker and of more cunning mind than any bovine, I discovered the fugitive's whereabouts, shackled it, and led it back two its owner. There I was paid for my services, not with money (which the farmer's didn't have), but with a portion of the repossessed cow. Although the rewards were welcome at first, after several of such bovine adventures, I discovered that my little house had enough preserved beef to last me a year or more. 1224 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Having secured my future nourishment for a goodly time, I invested more time searching for a deed to be avenged. Unfortunately, there weren't any to be found. The Trolls in the Ranson Mountains, which for many centuries had plagued the poor inhabitants of my village-in-protection, had, about ten years before my arrival, mysteriously ceased to cause any more problems. While this in itself could form an interesting adventure, no one in the village was willing to pay me even a cent to discover why their nemesis had disappeared, and were happy enough to turn a blind eye to benificial news. Sadly, if I had been alive only fifteen years prior, I would have enough hire to make me a wealthy man, although judging upon previous methods of payment, I suspect that the locals would have paid me with Troll meat, something I do not desire. Even though Willinshire was devoid of excitement, it led me to my most exciting journey to date, to a land where no man has been before, underground. It so happened that in the process of my inquiries for evil dragons and fainting princesses, a queer farmer by the name of John Angus Mattock, and I began a speculative conversation about the curious Remozsh who had appeared suddenly in the land about two millenia before. News exterior to small towns has a tendency to bypass them entirely, leaving them well behind the times. The sudden appearance of a here-to-fore unknown race, two thousand years ago, was just about the most recent topic of discussion of which these people knew. Since villagers use idle chat as a means of communicating vital information, slipping a few unbidden facts in among the chatter, I had become accustom to such modes of conversation and learned to wield them with dexterity. On the particular conversation I had with Mr. Mattock, I chose to talk about Remozsh, and how funny looking they were, like walking rats, half the height of a man, and how, for the most part, the race was of no consequence to the world. This, I was to learned, turned out to be a partially incorrect statement, for their appearance did bear some relevence to the world, although I doubt that their existance has. While I drew on a conversation with the stoic farmer, gaining no support from the silent man, he was remembering something which he had seen while still quite young. By the time I had reached the end of my symposioum on the Remozsh, he asked me a seemingly irrelevent question, "Ver bin cave-in?" Several inquiries later, I deduced that he had asked me if I had ever been caving. Not knowing where his 1225 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 questioning was leading, I answered in the negative, but that I would be interested in learning the art. I must have started some sort of avalance in Angus' mind, for he began to talk up about a storm which lingered on for several hours. Although I personally found his knowledge and stories to be fascinating, I don't wish to risk boring the reader with a full transcription, so I'll summarize Mr. Mattock's conversation with me. While Angus was a young boy, he and his older brothers spent quite a bit of time exploring some caves a few miles away. They get together a lantern, maybe some torches, chalk so they could mark the way to the exit, and seek out some adventure within the maze of caverns. From what I know and have since read, most caverns only go a few hundred meters in any direction before they end, but the passages which John Angus Mattock had explored had passages without any end, or at least none that he and his brothers could discern. One day, after travelling especially deep in the caverns, John and his brothers happened upon a tight crevice which they squeezed through, beyond which was a fairly straigh tunnel which descended at a slight slope. The brothers explored this cavern over the next year and never found its end. However, they happened upon several Remozsh skeletons, all of which must have been centuries old. Anyone who is knowledgable about the past has already realized something unusual about the farmer's story, but for those readers who haven't ever had time to peruse through the great histories of the world, let me set straight some facts about the Remozsh. Up until about two thousand years ago, there wasn't any Remozsh race, or at least one that was known by any of the other races. Suddenly, though, over the span of about a year, thousands of Remozsh wandered out from the wilderness and mountains, in all very different regions of the occupied lands. These strange creatures, as they were at the time, were starving, ragged, and spoke their own language, which they quickly dropped in favour of the vernacular, never using their original language again. Many theorists surmised that some god had spontaneously generated the race, although none could determine a use for them, nor have any since. Over time, the Remozsh abandoned the small towns to which they had appeared, many of them with physical incentives at their backs, and congregated in the cities where they do odd jobs, beg for food, and make a nuscience of themselves. 1226 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One other useful but curious fact about the Remozsh remain, to which not too many are privy because very few care. Remozsh will not ever voluntarily go underground, and if they are questioned as to why, they merely recount stories of subterranean monsters told to them by their mothers, rather much the stuff of fairy tales. I have first hand experience with the race's quirk, since on one occasion, after hearing such an unbelievable story, I undertook to convince a Remozsh to go underground. The Remozsh refused so my friends and I picked him up and proceeded to carry him down the stairs into my uncle's wine cellar, but the creature grew frantic and managed to escape, leaving deep scratches on all of us. Failing to ever get ahold of that Remozsh again, we abducted another one, tied it up, and carried it underground. After its attempts to wriggle out of the knots failed, the Remozsh started to scream hysterically and foam at the mouth. Not being the cruel sort, I cut the Remozsh's bonds and it scurried up the stairs as fast as its legs would take it, never to be seen again. Farmer Mattock discovered Remozsh bones about an hour's journey underground, a place where no Remozsh would go willingly, and could have only been brought there forceibly. This, of course, makes no sense either, since no one would spend the effort to drag a screaming and kicking Remozsh underground so far when bringing it in only half a meter would have the same effect. And, as I was to later find out, it wasn't just one Remozsh who had lain there dead for a few hundred years, but a trail of Remozsh skeletons streatching on for many kilometers. Their bones had not been laying their for centuries, either, but, from my best guess, nearly two millenium, since the bones were nearly submereged by a layer of dust, and, as I will later describe, I found corroborating tales that tell of the Remozsh' passage through the underground two thousand years ago. As my discoveries would later prove to the world, the Remozsh had come from the underground, fleeing in a mass exodous from some sort of real or imagined threat, into our world, and as far as anyone knows, there are no more Remozsh underground. Although this is of academic interest, it is not as earth shattering as the wonders which I discovered, an entire labrynth of tunnels and caverns beneath our feet, extending throughout the entire Empire and beyond, and know one knows why they exist. 1227 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself and the reader, in a state of disbelief at my grandios claim, is preparing to close this volume and place it on his shelf, never to read another page. Please, bear with me, and let me demostrate to you the proofs as I experienced them, so that you too may be convinced. Let me return the story back to Mr. Mattock's house, where I sat dumbfounded, not believing what I was hearing, but knowing that the farmer was telling the truth because he was an honest and sombre man. That night, I returned home, wondering about the significance of the tale, and decided the next morning that I would go exploring in the caves. So, when dawn awoke, I grabbed myself some chalk and a lantern, just like the farmer had said, and stopped by Angus' farmhouse, where I convinced the stoic farmer to assume a new profession, if only for the day, and show me through the tunnels and to the Remozsh skeletons. The farmer gave me a jacket to wear, saying that the caverns were cold, and we hiked two miles up to the cave sight, near the top of a wooded hill. Inside were large caverns big enough to fit a temple in, interconnected by tunnels, chutes, and crevices, some of which were a tight squeeze. By and by we made our way down, and about half an hour in, perhaps four or five caverns, we found the mark which farmer John had left when he was a child, still sharp as ever, next to a crevice which we squeezed through. On the other side was the long, straight tunnel which John had talked about the previous day, with his childhood footprints still preserved in the dusty ground. We followed them for another half hour until we came to the Remozsh skeleton. A few hundred meters beyond that were two more. We would have travelled on the path forever if the good farmer had not pointed out that our light supply was getting low, and we were forced to return to the surface. Within two days my trusty companion Fred, and I had acquired several mules, and a month's supply of food (mostly smoked beef), water, and lantern oil. We donned our shining armor, slid our gilded swords into their respective scabbards, and journeyed into the underground, travelling into the unknown. To the common man, such a trip into the depths would be akin to one into hell, but for us it was a journey for our salvation, glory, and destiny. Before verbally retracing my passage into the underworld, I must make known the oath that I have sworn, and many will attest this, that I will maintain accurate records 1228 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 of my explorations, and that in such letters, I will, by all that is sacred, sustain the truth and unbiased focus of my eye. I need alert the reader to this knowledge so that what follows may be percieved as honest and credible. With the helpful farmer Mattock, Fred and I pushed our mule train through the first stalactites and descended into the Remozsh's ancient home. Although I have not described my journey into the Earth in detail while recounting my first descent, let me convey the underworld's beauty to the reader so that he may better imagine the awe and splendor. Upon first entering the caves they glittered and sparkled with pointy teeth, both above and below, water dripping from one canine to its partner below. The floors were uneven, and lower region became basins for pools of water which mirrored our lamps, occasionally dancing when a stalactite above would release its watery pearl. The water, however, merely higlighted the hued scenery, colored with reds, browns, and greens, forming a forest of tree-rocks, like weeping willows whose branches cried real tears. It was beautiful. Never before had I seen nor read of such a vision, and that is why I so lovingly describe it here, so that the reader may experience the splendor. Travel with the mules was slower, so we didn't reach the crevice for nearly an hour, and then we were forced to coax the cautious mules through. Luckily for us, Angus Mattock was familiar with livestock, or we would have been forced to abandon the mules. Once across to the other side, we gave our thanks to the farmer and continued down the tunnel, while he returned to the surface. The downward sloping passage began as a rough cavern, perhaps formed by some swelling underground river, but as our journey descended, about a day of travelling I would say, the tunnel began to look less natural, and took on distinct traits of having been chiseled, or perhaps chewed, from the earth. The tunnel's shape was circular and about four meters high, devoid of the stalagtites and stalagmites present in the other caves, with only pebbles and stones soiling the smoth floor. As we journeyed down the engineered passage, always at a gradual six degree slope, we realized that our explorations had uncovered more than the origin of the Remozsh, but the existence of some grander race, for the Remozsh would never master such an engineering project.
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November 12, 2011 The anteceding chapters describe my adventures underground, revealing the life beneath your feet, those whose roof you tread daily upon, people and creatures whose names have never seen the sun. Although the truths told here-in may resound more incredible than any drunken mariner's, I swear that these words, these chapters, and this book are wholly correct. And even though I consider myself clever, I do not have the imagination to concoct such fantastic creatures and locales as I will relate in future pages, and most of all, I would not with to deceive the noble reader with any lies animated for my own amusement. For those of you who still grin at my avowed honesty, those who would only peruse these leaflets for entertainment and dismiss all facts as fantasy, I give you a morsel of the truth that is to be exposed: Not too long after entering the passage, Fredsoning. Do crazy people use circular reasoning? John tried to rephrase the question. How could he prove to someone else that he wasn't crazy? Easy. He just wouldn't tell them that he'd seen a ghost and they would never know. However, that wasn't good enough. Perrhaps if he somehow demonstrated the poltergeist's existence to them, meaning everyone else, then he'd be proven sane. So what was adequate proof? John had a handful of broken objects in the garbage, but these could have easily been thrown around by himself in a hysterical fit which was blacked out of his memory. Maybe someone had seen the hauntings happen, such as garbage cans flying at John in the night? John doubted that anyone witnessed the events, and even if they had seen them, the impartial witness would be immediately presumed to be in cahoots with John, or he would be considered equally whacked. To make things worse, the disturbances had stopped when John entered a crowd of people, the only way that he'd be able to conclusively prove the ghost's reality. John was fucked. He couldn't prove that he wasn't crazy, even to himself. John reconsidered telling Dan about the spirit since Dan was his closest friend and also one of the most levelheaded guys he knew. Dan would inevitably consider the possibility of John's insanity but he'd give his friend the benefit of the doubt. Since John had only experienced the ghost on one night, Dan would easily assume that it was all a dream. John, would 1230 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 gladly except this conclusion if it originated from a second source. If the hauntings happened again tonight though, especially if John stayed awake all night, then John's word might have some validity with Dan. Of course, John had no idea what good it would do to tell Dan, but he hoped that his friend would be able to think of something. A floorboard creaked. John's senses abandoned the erudite speculation and focused on reality. He looked around to see where the creak had come from and if there was anything there but couldn't see anything. The room was still empty. John sat absolutely still for about five minutes and then, after nothing else had sounded, passed it off as natural settling. If someone were to knock on the door at that moment, John would have jumped out of bed. Not having any external stimulus, John's mind returned to its self evaluation. If John weren't crazy, which he hoped his wasn't, then what caused the ghost to haunt him, and why did it do so at this point in time? The only logical explanation, if spirits obeyed such laws, was that the wizard was somehow involved, and that he had through some mechanations discovered John's existence, and was taking his revenge upon John. But how did the wizard learn about John and discover where he lived? John's first response was to finger Roy. The rat could have been captured and interrogated, which wouldn't require much more than an attentive listener to ciphen out the blabber from the important information. Roy would have readily given up John's name or address to a complete stranger. The only problem was that Roy, to John's knowledge, didn't know where John lived and only knew John's first name. He had been sure never to take Roy to his own apartment. If Roy had been interrogated and spoken about the group, then it would be more likely that Dan would get the haunting, but Dan didn't mention anything about ghosts; Maybe he was being barraged with supernatural assaults and thought that he was going crazy too. Either that, or the ghosts were somehow attracted to John. This was actually a reasonable hypothesis, since beggars and salesmen could spot John out from a crowd. Were there any more possibilities? Dan, John, and the other rat were followed when they left Caylan's mansion. John had seen the pursuant follow Dan and the rat. What 1231 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 if there was another one? John wasn't too cautious after seeing Dan being followed, so he could have easily been tailed to his apartment. The wizard wouldn't know where Dan was since Dan's spy was thrown off the trail, so if John had been followed, he would bear the entirety of the wizard's malice. Wonderful. But if the wizard wanted to have John killed, why didn't he just send some thugs to kill him? John didn't have an answer to this. And, of course, this assumed that the wizard actually had magical abilities. John had always heard of wizards holding damsels hostage and practicing arcane arts with demons and curses. Ghosts however were never mentioned in the stories, and no one that he knew had ever seen a wizard raise a demon or even cast a succesful curse. Maybe the wizards just fooled everyone into thinking they were powerful magicians and then got wealthy using their clever trickery. Maybe they could only create illusions of deamons and thereby fool people, just like stage magicians practicing card tricks, but more powerful. The poltergeist could have been an illusion and all of the damage was ultimately done by John himself in a magic induced delusion. Which, of course, meant that John was crazy. So, if one were driven to hallucinations by a wizard, was one really insane? Just then John heard the door rattle. He sat upright and listened. Two minutes later a floorboard creaked. Another one creaked in the same vicinity, and then another. It had come. Either that or the wind was blowing outside and John was so worked up that any barely-audible creak was magnified by his paranoia. Regardless of that, John had already prepared his attack plan. Relying on a story which Chris had read to him, John quietly said, "Hello? Who's there?" John didn't say it too loud for feat that his land-lord would hear him. Even though John doubted that talking to the ghost would work, and even questioned its existence, John hoped the 1232 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 plan would work. He never thought that he'd come to this, taking advice from a story written and concocted by Derek Half-wit, but it was the only way which John had heard of to get rid of a ghost. More floorboards gave way and creaked. John continued to follow the story line as he rememberd it. "You're not real! I don't believe in you!" This time he said it loud enough that his landlord would hear it. The volume didn't work, but it did produce a respone. John's dresser slid across the floor about a meter. He pulled out the next trick, "Why are you haunting me? Can you talk?" Who knows. It might work. The dresser continued on its arduous trek across the floor, generating a venemous wailing as its legs scraped groves into the floor. Seeing as intellectual conversation with the spirit had failed, John gave one final try at communication. "Go away! Get out of here! You're not wanted!" If John just wandered around the streets yelling that and perhaps shaking his hands, he'd look just like the psychos he so-much despised. Oddly enough, the poltergeist didn't seem to like being commanded around. John's bed began to shake in a slow rocking motion which gradually accelerated into the rocking of a torrential sea and nearly tipped over a few times. John's chair follow suit and and dumped John onto the floor. The lights flickered out. Fuck! Having tried and failed at all of his previous plans, John grew desperate and pulled out the holy symbol of Thel, a metal circle with short spikes protruding radially out of the circle, and idealized version of the sun. John held up this relic blindly in front of him and waved it around making sure that the ghost would see the symbol and leave. Did ghosts see? Especially in the dark? 1233 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Everything suddenly grew quiet. John waited, still waving the sun-symbol about. Suddenly something, probably a blanket or pillow case, was pulled over John's head and wrapped tightly around his neck. John instantly reacted and started to free himself. He first got his fingers underneath the sheet which was constricting around his neck and tugged outward until he had added up some slack to the noose and was capable of breathing. Something was wrapping itself around John's ankles but he ignored it because of the more pressing business at hand. John loosened the nose even more and then began pulling it up over his head. He got it as far as his mouth before it started tightening again and John was forced to spend more effort loosening the bonds, but once he had done so he threw it off his head. Just as he did so, his feet were yanked from underneath him. John fell backwards and landed on his back. The ghost, having tied something around John's ankles, lifted John's feet off of the ground by the bonds. His hips, back, head, and arms followed one another, until John was suspended from the ceiling. He bent up and tried to untie his feet but failed to loosen the bonds. Having nothing to cut the sheets with but the holy symbol, John used its edges to tear away at the cloth. He released he left foot first, his right, and then fell to the floor. John went unconscious.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 15: BUGBUG
Chris' heart was racing by the time he reached the bottom of the ladder and planted his feet on the cellar floor, on his path to the future. Of course, he was nervous because, even though Chris thought it likely that they could bargain for Mike's released, Chris knew that negotiation might fail and combat would be necessary. However, the danger was still relatively far off in the future, at least a few minutes away. Chris' adrenaline was rushing because he was excited about the change in his lifestyle which this moment represented, and even though the past few days seemed to be filled with branches in life's highway, Chris knew that he stood in front of an enormous and abrupt division of the road which would take him someplace completely new. In only a few minutes he would be irrevocably commited to that path, and his life soon speeding away from dullness. But first, Chris had to attend to the matters at hand, and looked around the room to see what was happening. The room that Chris was in was empty except for his companions. The chute through which Chris had climbed had opened up into a small room, perhaps several meters square, walled with mortared stones, floored with dirt, and its ceiling was supported by some old timbers. A passage left from the wall opposite Chris and took a right turn about five meters down. Some light beyond the hallway's turn was illuminating the corner and part of the room that Chris was in. Shaj had his sword out, and so did Dan, who had set down his lantern and was just attaching his shield to his left arm. Moving away from the ladder in order to let Susan and John down,Chris unstrapped his shield from his back and slid his left arm through the straps. He drew his sword and took up step towards the tunnel, but remembering that Miss Andersen had come down into the cellar, he walked over to the corner where she was standing. Chris whispered to here, "Are you sure you want to do this?" "Yes," she whispered back. She seemed very nervous, but Chris felt just as much so. "Since you don't have armor, you should stay here." 1235 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Okay." "When everything's okay we'll call you." Susan nodded. "Be prepared to climb up the ladder." Miss Andersen nodded again and moved a step closer to the ladder. By the time that Chris was done talking with Susan, the others had already started creeping up the passage. Chris followed behind John and quietly followed until the front of the line stopped, just before the passage's corner. Shaj perked up his ears and peaked around the corner, flattening them a few seconds later, and then charged around the corner. Dan, John, and Chris followed the lead, fogetting all semblences of stealth, and picked up their pace to a run also. Chris followed John and raced towards the corner, his shield gripped snugly on his left side, his sword clenched in his right hand, swinging as he ran, once or twice almost hitting John's legs. Undoubtedly the party was charging into combat, Ferazi being excellent warriors, but Chris hoped that Shaj's descision was the correct one, and that for some reason known only to Shaj, bargaining was out of the question. Chris wondered how many men were at the end of the tunnel, but knew he'd have to wait a few more seconds until he turned the corner. Dan skidded around the bend, his left leg slipping and causing Dan to bounce off the opposite wall slightly before completing the turn. Chris had been excited before with the chance of solving a real mystery and rescuing a kidnapping victim, but now his adrenaline was rushing doubly so. Only a few more seconds. John took his turn at the curve and disappeared behind the wall. Chris was next and followed John around the bend, but his view wasn't much better. Not only did his companions bobbing heads occlude Chris' view, but the passage continued for another ten meters before it opened into a room. Chris thought that he saw someone in the room but someone's head bobbed in the way, and then the enemy was gone. Shaj, however, reached the room and charged in, before being unheroically obscured by Dan's head. After a few more strides the eclipsing heads again 1236 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 revealed the Ferazi, this time in mid-air, leaping over a large pit in the floor, straight towards a stooped-over man in the back of the room. Dan and John's heads again hid the action. In two more strides Dan entered the cavern and veered off to the left. Now that Chris only had John's skull blocking the action, he obtained a much better view of Shaj who had almost reach his target, a crouched man who was aiming a crossbow at the Ferazi. Chris suddenly realized the danger of this adventure, since a crossbow was capable of killing them all without any chance of defense or escape. As Shaj charged towards the crossbowman, Chris expected to see the Ferazi pushed back and fall down dead with an arrow in its chest. But just at the climax, John's head covered the scene, and Chris felt like yelling, "Move your head John!", but the head didn't listen to Chris' thoughts and continued to obscure the action. Chris head a bow string snap, a brief whizzing, and then an impact on the left hand side of the chamber. John thoughtfully moved his head as he took another stride, and Chris saw Shaj tumble towards the ground, dropping his sword a few paces behind him. Another second and the roo's summer-somersault brought him back onto his feet, right in front of his opponent, who dropped the discharged bow. Shaj had managed to dodge the bolt. Chris continued on his battle-ward sprint down the hallway. John cleared the opening and bore to the right, revealing Shaj grappling the crossbow-man to the ground. Another villain was running for the crossbow, and Dan headed towards him, trying to keep the crossbow out of the field. Another two seconds and Chris cleared the tunnel, entering into a larger room with a pit in the center. Shaj was wrestling with one enemy, straight in front of Chris, Dan was about to take his first swing, and John was bolting towards a thug on the right who was reciprocating the charge with an up-raised sword. Seeing only three cutthroats, equally matched by his three companions, Chis slowed down to scan the room more closely for his own opponent. In the books, there were always plenty of enemy soldiers, with a minimum of one per hero. Chris felt that something was wrong and wondered if there were a few sneaking in the shadows preparing for a rear assault. 1237 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Chris slowed to a walk and scanned the room from left to right, his gaze passing over a few odd crates, barrels, and piles of clothes without seeing any hiding thugs. About half way through, Chris saw another enemy, poised against the wall with a sword in hand, and Chris' mind eased knowing that reality wasn't cheating him. The man was holding back, probably saving himself until the right moment when he would be fresh and Chris' companions tired, a fighting style which could be expected of villains. Just to make sure that there were no more thugs in hiding, Chris quickly scanned the rest of the room, but seeing no more enemies, Chris returned his gaze towards his cunning enemy. Chris raised his shieldd, tightened the grip on his sword, and resumed his charge, raing towards the unchallenged enemy. As Chris swerved around the pit in the room, Chris' chosen villain saw the charge and acknowledged it by reticently raising his swordand taking a few meager steps in anticipation of the sword fight. Chris' enemy placed his sword in front of him, ready for a parry while Chris tightened his left hand and raised the sword in his right. Chris stopped only two meters in front of his enemy and waited for the first blow to be delt by his foe, enabling Chris to judge the skill of his enemy. While waiting, Chris noted that his foe was a man of about thirty with greasy, unkempt hair, sun-tanned and wrinkled skin, with black eyes. The enemy likewise waited for Chris to move. Chris stepped closer and jerked his sword, causing his opponent's to twitch and then stop once his opponent realized the feint. The enemy's clothes were soiled and shredded country clothes. Chris waited but his opponent did nothing. The foe's caution made Chris wonder why the villain wasn't doing anything, and made Chris suspect a trap. However, the enemy was always supposed to attack first, and getting impatient, Chris decided that it was time to get the combat going. He swung horizontally from right to left. The enemy shifted his sword left and parried the blow. Chris pulled his sword back into a defensive position in anticipation of a counter attack, but the foe stood defensive, his vertical sword ready to parry. 1238 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Since his enemy wasn't going to react, Chris took another swing, swinging down, but it was parried a hand's width above its target's shoulder. The two blades slid along one another until the pommels met. Chris, feeling relieved that the combat was traversing more to form, continued the cliche, pushing hard against the man and then withdrawing the weapon. At this point, the enemy was supposed to go flying back into the wall, but instead he took the opportunity and took a diagonal swing. Although Chris' last swing pulled his sword too far back to be effective, his shield blocked the swing, getting a chip cut out of it. Chris, relieved that he had a shield, remembered not to leave himself wide open next time. Chris took another lateral swing. The man took a step back and parried, returned a low swipe towards Chris' legs, but is was blocked by Chris' shield. Chris began to experience the flow of combat, as Derek Halfstar had written, attack followed by counter-attack in well-measured sword-clanks. It was Chris' turn again so he took a swing across his shield, from his upper-left. Again it was parried and his sword slid into the hand guard of his enemy's, but his time Chris quickly withdrew it. The foe took a step and made a top-down swing at Chris' left shoulder, unprotected by the shield. Taking advantage of the enemy's unprotected swing, Chis broken the rhythm of combat, kneeeling down while raising his buckler. The sword hit the shield's rim, sliced through a bit, and into Chris' shoulder. The wound, however, didn't hurt and Chris hoped that it didn't get through his armor. At the bottom of his kneel, with his enemy's sword stuck in Chris' shield, Chris stabbed into the man's chest, and felt it slow down as it penetrated. Nothing happened. Chris slowly stood up and lowered his shield, dislodging the enemy's sword, which dropped to the ground and clattered. The man, instead of holding onto his own weapon, staired at Chris in amazement, and without looking down, lightly grabbed onto the blade of Chris' sword with both hands. He looked down onto his stomach where Chris' sword as still impaled, about a quarter of the blade hidden in the man's flesh. He turned white and then both his hands fell to his side, releasing the sword blade. Blood was streaming out of the vertical wound, flowing down the man's 1239 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 stomach and down the right leg where it trickled to the earth, its subterranean course exposed by the blood which was absorbed into the man's clothing. Another portion of the blood, however, trickled down the steel bridge between the man's stomach and Chris' hand, onto the pommel, and down each of Chris' four fingers. When it reached Chis small finger, the lowest point in the chain, the blood congregated and dripped off onto the ground. The man stopped stairing at the steel bridge over which his life was escaping and looked up at Chris with a pitiful begging look, filled with fear and sorrow, imploring Chris to remove the death-weapon. The pleading eyes stared at Chris for a moment and then started to cry. Chris was horrified at what he had done, and removed his blade from the man, whose wound began gushing blood once the cork was released. The man, however, smiled slightly and looked down to the wound. As if the removal of the weapon sewed up the hole and made things better, allowing the man to concluded that the would live, he took a step forward, perhaps to thank Chris. Weakened from blood loss, the man's leg gave way at his first step. He tumbled to the front and right, reaching out for some support from his killer, but unable move his arm fast enough. The dying man landed on his side, almost in a fetal position, allowing him to inspect his wound more clearly. The man groaned and rolled onto his back. His eyebrows knotted up, his eyes wrinkled, and laying on his death-bed, the man began to cry. Everyone has a different method of crying, just like everyone laughs differently, and experiences life differently. The dying man did not give out any audible sobs, but merely wrinkled his eyes, cheeks, and lips into a distorted grimmace and allowed the tears flowed from his eyes. From time to time a sweet memory from his life would cause an extra convulsion of sorrow, and his face would tighten more, his chest would twitch, and the man would let out a sniffle. Chris could do nothing but watch the dying man. Chris' victim continued his crying for some time, occasionally inserting weak coughs into his sorrow pangs. Over time his breathing became sparatic with shallow gulps of air and long motionless periods, making it increasingly difficult for the man to cry. A minute passed and a fit of coughing forced the man was forced to forget his tears, convulsing the entire dying body. After the coughing subsided, the breathing 1240 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 shallowed, and every gasp of air wheezed as it rushed through the narrowing windpipe. The breathing stopped. The man died. Chris stared at the murdered man, moving his eyes from the whitened to face, the blood covered hands, to the fresh pond of blood, turned the body into an island in a sea whose shores were gently lapping upon Chris' boots. Chris wondered if he could see his reflection in the blood. "Hey Chris, are you all right?" asked someone. Chris turned slowly around to see who it was, not wanting to takes his eyes off the body in case it started to breath again, meaning that the man was alive and that Chris wasn't a murderer. "Hey, wake up," added Dan. "Huh?" said Chris, and he looked back at the body to see if it had moved or started breathing. A hand grabbed Chris' shoulder and gently turned him around. "Stop looking at the body," said Dan in a gentle voice. Chris couldn't help it. He tried to turn around but Dan stopped him. "If you hadn't killed him you'd be looking like him now," said Dan. But did that make any difference? The man was still dead and Chris killed him. Dan walked away, but when he saw that Chris wasn't following he motioned to him, "Come over here. We have a prisoner." Chris followed, almost blindly, occasionally peeking back at the man to see if he'd moved an arm or turned his head. Chris had heard of people who had been thought dead by even doctors but who woke up just before they were burried, or sometimes even after they were burried. Maybe the man wasn't really dead, but just looked like it.
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November 12, 2011 Dan walked over to the prisoner, seated about two meters away from the pit, his hands tied behind his back, and head bent in a submissive posture. Except for the prisoner's tied hands, his over-all posture gave Chris the impression of a meditation trance. When Dan got near, the man stared up at Dan. Dan crouched down into order to be at eye level with the prisoner, looked to John, immediately opposite the captive, and then to Shaj, who seemed to be sulking about five meters away, and finally back to the prisoner, who, meanwhile, had twisted his head wildly to find the objects of Dan's gaze. Both captor and captive resumed the watch of each another. "So where's Mike?" Dan asked the prisoner. "Who?" Chris took another glance at the dead man and briefly wondered if he should check the man's pulse. "The guy who you took hostage." The prisoner flinched. "Oh," head said in the quiet voice of someone delivering bad news, "No one ever told me his name.". At that he turned towards the pit and nodded. "He's down there." Dan stood up and walked to the edge of the pit where he looked over and yelled, "Hey Mike. Can you hear me?" The Ferazi walked to the hole and peered in also, but Mike didn't answer. Shaj went off somewhere out of Chris' sight, and Dan returned to the prisoner. The prisoner didn't even need to be asked. "Jim threw him in there two days ago. I haven't heard anything since then." Chris wondered what Shaj was doing and found him at the far end of the room, tying a rope around one of the crates and then amking his way towards the pit, letting out the rope as he went. The Ferazi threw the trailings over the edge of the pit, and grasped a lantern's handle in his mouth. Chris hand't noticed Shaj pick up the lantern. The Ferazi lowered himself down the well and disappeared. 1242 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Chris stole another look at his victim but didn't notice any breathing. Was Dan's reasoning really a good enough excuse, that it was kill or be killed? Chris wasn't so easily swayed, because he had begun the fight with the man - What was his name? and could have tried to talk to him. "Who did you say threw Mike in there?" asked Dan. "Jim... Jim Redlock," answered the man. "Why'd he throw him in?" "I honestly don't know. I think he had orders." Maybe the man would have given up if Chris had given him a chance to talk, or maybe Chris could have just knocked the sword out of the man's hands. Something like that had obviously happened to the captive since Chris couldn't see any wounds. "Where's Jim?" "Over there," said the prisoner and he turned to look at the crossbowman which Shaj had attacked, and from the looks of it, killed. But Chris couldn't have counted on knocking the man's sword away, and once combat started, he couldn't have done anything to change events. "Damn," said Dan. "Well who told Jim to do that?" "I don't know. I asked once, but Jim told me to never mind since it was Jim who paid me, and that's all that should matter." They were all hired mercinaries and had no personal involvement, and no preconceieved animosity towards Chris and his friends. Why did they attack? "Shit," muttered Dan and he stooed silent for awhile. Maybe they didn't attack first, but it was Shaj, charging down the hallway, which put them on the defensive and made them attack. Maybe they would have negotiated if
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November 12, 2011 they weren't attacked first, and they could have just said that Mike was dead and that everything was pointless. "Why did you kidnap him then?" asked Dan. "We were supposed to hold him here until everything was safe, but then Jim came in with orders that he should be killed." Chris took another glance at the body, but it was still motionless. "Did Jim have any conversations with Mike?" "Yeah..." Before he could continue with his answer the rope twitched and a furred hand grasped the well's lip. It had blood all over it. Everyone turned their attention to Shaj as he hoisted himself from the pit, but instead of talking about what he had found, Shaj began pulling up the rope, straining as he pulled. No one help him. After about five minutes of pulling, two upraised arms emerged from the pit. Shaj gave another yank and a rolling red-haired head popped over which tilted backwards and stared blankly at the ceiling, its hair caked blood with blood. Susan gasped. Shaj heaved again and the torso flopped onto the stone floor. Now that the body was firmly on the ground Shaj dropped the rope and pulled the body up by the arms. Susan rushed to her brother, touched his hand, and recoiled from the dead body, another casualty of the battle. Meanwhile the Ferazi walked over to the place where he dropped his sword and grabbed the shining weapon, free of any blood stains. If the Ferazi hadn't used his sword, then how did he kill his enemy? Chris noticed Shaj's bloodied claws again. Shaj returned to Mike's body, his sword lazily dangling from his right (or is this left???) hand, stared over his dead friend for a few moments, walked up to Dan, and then suddenly raised his arm and took a long side swipe. It barely missed Dan, but sliced through the prisoner's neck, trailing a splatter of blood along John's chest. The prisoner had an amazed expression on his face before his head drooped away from the gash. His head tilted back as if purposefully looking at the ceiling. There was a crack and his neck broke. Without any support, the head unnaturally flopped 1244 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 backwards, and for a second it hung by uncut neck muscle, inverted and staring at Chris, it's mouth agape. Another instant and the entire body toppled on top of its head and concealed the stare. The Ferazi sheathed his sword, walked back to Mike and picked up the body with both hands. Shaj walked out of the chamber, carrying Mike's body, followed by Susan. Chris looked around the room and saw bodies laying about. Chris body lay in its pool of blood. Was he still crying? One body seemed to have his throat torn out, but Chris couldn't be sure because of all the glistening red. A third one had a deep cut in his head from which blood was still trickling. The fourth would still be upside down and staring at Chris if its body didn't fall on-top of its dangling head. Battle was not as romanic as Chris' books portrayed it. It was ugly. "Hey Chris, come on," yelled Dan. He was standing in front of the hallway. All the others had left.
CHAPTER 16: BUGBUG
Chris escaped out of the nightmare, unshackling its bonds, and awaking back in reality, lying in his own bed, in his own room, in his parent's house. From Chris' perspective, only able to see the ceiling, part of the window, and to feel his bed, everything seemed correct, but Chris made extra sure to make sure that he was still 1245 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 not living unsuspecting in his nightmare. Chris had experienced too many dreams where he had thought that he woke up, only to find it a feint of his dream, and instead of a structured universe, discover a new layer of the dream's unreality within itself. Chris looked around some more and recognized his desk and door, substantiating that he had returned to reality, most likely. Chris was not yet awake enough to be absolutely sure. What was the nightmare about? Did Chris want to remember? At the moment Chris felt some sort of fear lurking in his subconscious, knawing away at his serenity, but he couldn't identify its source. Remembering the dream would expose the source of the fear and allow Chris to logic the terror, which was only a figment of a dream, away. Chris thought back to recall the beginning of the nightmare, and recalled that it started with Dan's introduction of a woman to Chris, and a search for her missing brother. No, that was real. Where did the dream start? It began last night, as far as Chris could tell, hand must have begun because Chris was thinking about the case too much. Chris had dreamed that Dan, Chris, the woman, and oddly, a Ferazi and Remozsh, had set out last night to find the woman's missing brother. Chris remembered tha the had armor on, the same suit that was hanging in his closet right now. The group had dsicovered a decaying warehouse with a hole in the floor, into which everyone, except for the terrified Remozsh, had gone down. Actually, now that Chris was thinking about that, that part of the dream was rather realistic. Everything had seemed so real, the Remozsh's personality, Chris, Dan, and the smells, making Chris marvel at how some dreams could conform to reality, and then suddenly, take their own distorted path, smashing all bounds or commonality and expectations. When he had entered the underground, Chris remembered, the nightmare phase of the dream had reeally started. The group, led by the Ferazi, had charged into a large chamber to fight the enemy for the lost brother, but when Chris killed his respective enemy, the dream-man had given the most awful look, reciproacted by the bloody carcases of the enemy which were strewn throughout the chamber. Everyone was dressed in their dead's blood, especially the Ferazi, and Mike, the brother which was to be rescued, was starting to rot already. Mike too was bloody. The Ferazi's fur had turned from white into a pink and red fur, evoking almost a festival-like atmosphere. 1246 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 By this point, Chris recalled, the nightmare had reached its peek, and all Chris could remember of it were images of bleeding people and that he and his friends rinsing themselves in the red excrement. They had seemed so excited by the prospect, like a dog rolling in a decayed animal in order to reek of its essence. Chris was wrong earier, because now he distinctly remembered that the nightmare had gotten worse. After the underground scene, Chris found himself in his bed, having just woken up from his previous nightmare, a dream wrapped within a dream. He had noted that last night's dream was a strange one but didn't bother to dwell on it, but was startled by something else. From his position in his dream-bed, Chris noticed that there was some blusigh light coming from the window, probably the moon. Oddly though, even though he was about to enter the most surreal portion of the nightmare, it was at this point that the dream became extremely realistic and detailed, and very scary. Chris was lying in his bed and looking about his moon-lit room, percieving everything in a shade of pale blue. Chris noticed something move at the foot of his bed, and then saw, standing there, the man from Chris' previous dream scene. How did he know that? It must have been some of that dream knowledge, because Chris wasn't capable of identifying a face, being barely able to discern a silhouette. The dream was so realistic and detailed. The man walked up to Chris' bed side, the moon-light producing some highlights on the silohete. When the enemy was but an arm's length distant, Chris noticed sword's shape juxtaposed in a completely incorrect place. Chris remembered that he had put that sword there, and it was still pertruding out of the man's belly, bouncing up and down as the man walked. It was very realistic. Chris remembered seeing the man's eyes, the same pale blue as the rest of the room, but brighter, more so than would have reflected from the moon. They were sad. They were afraid. They were in pain, so much pain.
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November 12, 2011 Chris jumped out from underneath his covers and landed on the other side of the bed, puttin the mattress in-between the impaled man and himself. The man stood still a moment and then walked towards Chris, but something was wrong. How could he walk through the bed? Just like Chris knew the man, Chris' dream knowledge also told him that this wasn't a man but a specter. Again, when the ghost had gotten close to Chris he, or it, stopped and stared. What did he want? The man's eyes begged for Chris to do something. But what could Chris do? Why was this ghost haunting him? Chris tried waking up from the dream, but couldn't. The man's eyes begged. Chris stepped back a few steps and the ghost followed. Chris had never met a ghost in his dream's before. The ghost's eyes were crying. Chris looked away from the eyes and instead focused on the sword, still impaled in the body. Although Chris couldn't see any blood, he knew that it must be puring out of the wound and onto the floor. Chris' gaze returned to the eyes; They were so real. The ghost's eyes looked down at the sword. Chris wondered if he was supposed to remove the sword, and decided that he should, reached out with both hands. His right hand grasped the pommel, which was wet and cold. What was on the sword? Chris retracted his right hand, looked at it, and saw that it was covered with something black. Or was the liquid really red, only appearing black because of the light? Chris looked back at the eyes. The eyes pleaded to Chris, and then looked back at the sword. Once again Chris grabbed the pommel with his right hand, and even though he gripped hard, his hand still slid around somewhat in the slime. He doubled his grip with his left hand, and pulled. The sword came free. Chris looked back at the eyes. The eyes were gone, the man with them. 1248 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Not knowing what to do with the blade, Chris had dropped the sword and it clattered on the ground. Chris woke up and the dream ended. Chris' nightmare had been bad, so horrific that Chris hadn't had one like that ever. The last part, especially, was the worst, and Chris was glad that it was over and he had nothing to fear from it. Outside Chris' window, the sun was shining, and his curtains flapped by the breeze through the opened window. It looked to be a nice day, one cheerful enough to dispell the horror of the dream. Even with the sun's cheer, though, Chris was worried that it might have really happened, the whole dream having seemed to real. Of course, it couldn't have happened, and just to prove it, Chris looked around the room in more detail. The head-board of Chris' bed was against one of the room's walls, a dresser stood on his left with all of the appropriate nick-nacks on top of it, and towards the opposite wall, was the closed door to his room. Chris' bookshelf, supporting the lore of the great writers still stood, and on Chris' right was his desk and the window. Everything was fine. Chris realized that he hadn't looked at the floor, the final disproof of his dream,so he slowly peeked over the left edge of his bed, and looked onto the floor. It was clean, not even a piece of dirty underwear on top of the throw rug. Chris even peeked underneath the bed but saw nothing... except that something was on the floor on the other side of he bed. Chris rolled over to the other side of his bed, looked over, and felt himself pale. On the floor rested a blood covered sword, partially hidden by Chris' leather armor and shield. The shield was nearly cut in half. Chris retreated towards the center of the bed and pulled up the sheets to hide under them, but as he did so, he noticed that his hands were covered with dried blood, now a dark brown color. Likewise the sheets had bloody hand prints. After wondering whose blood was on his hands, Chris leapt out of bed as far away from the contamination as possible. Then the dream was real! At least the part underground had happened, although Chris hoped that the ghost wasn't more than a nightmare, not likeing the idea of being haunted. The ghost coudln't be real because if it were, then the armor wouldn't be ontop of the sword, because the sword, according to Chris' dream, had 1249 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 been dropped on the floor last night. That was a relief, a partial one at least, leaving only murder on Chris' conscience. If he could just dispell that into self defence he'd be fine. Was it self defense? What would people think when they found out? And then a devastating thought crept into Chris' mind, what if his parents found out? What would they do? He could easily imagine his father's "I'm very disappointed in you," talk, and maybe even his father disowning Chris and kicking him out of the house. What would his mother do?Chris was sure that she'd break down and cry for several hours, riling Chris' father up even more. "Look what you've done! You've made your mother cry!" would coninue the lecture. After that, Chris' mother wouldn't talk to him for several days, and she'd never act the same to him again, never hugging him or smiling at him. Chris couldn't allow that, so he had to do something about the evidence, and quickly before his mother would climb upstairs and, as usual, wake Chris up so he'd be ready for breakfast. Chris was lucky that he wasn't caught the night before when he came in, and wondered if he was cautious about climbing up the stairs, but he couldn't remember any of it. How did he get home? Before he could worry about the rest of last night, Chris had to take steps to hide the murder from his parents. He emptied his dresser's lower drawer and stuffed the bloodied bed-sheet into it, and covered the sheet with his armor and sword. Luckily the sword had a sheath so that the blood would never be seen. Chris' knew that his mother would look at the armor and sword, and leave them where they are, including the sheet beneath, not wishing to disturb his things. That would work well. Chris' father would never come up to the room so he'd never discover the secret. Was anything missing? Chris looked around and realized that he needed a new sheet for his bed, got one from the drawer above, and made his bed as neatly as he was able. Luckily, the blood on his hands was now dried and didn't wear off on the new sheet. Chris randomly stuffed refugee clothes from the bottom drawers elsewhere. Chris did one last look-over, looking especially for the tell-tale signs which always give away the murderers in novels. Unfortunately, Chris found what he was looking for, blood splatters on the ground where Chris dropped the sword last night. But that was a dream which Chris didn't have time to worry at the moment. Chris found a rag and tried to wipe up the spots but they were dry and didn't erase. Chris searched 1250 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 around for water but didn't discover any, and he didn't want to leave his room or do anything suspicious. Chris spit on the ground and scrubbed the floor with the rag until the spots fade away to nothing, except for a little blood between the floorboard cracks, but these were difficult to see. Not willing to leave the room with any clues lurking around, Chris cleaned his hands using the only water source available. He spit on them and wiped them, repeating the process until his hands were clean. By the time he finished, his hands werre still unusually brown, but his throat twas too parched to continue. Chris took one final check in the mirror and walked out the door. Chris crept down the stairs, using the knowledge of living twenty years in the house, and avoided all of the creaking steps, and on his way down he induced only a few weak creaks and whines. Chris was glad that he was being so cautious when he noticed, about six steps down, a spot of blood which must have dripped from his sword when he climbed up the stairs last night. Or was it the ghost which dripped the blood? Chris summoned what saliva he could and rubbed the spot clean with his finger, catching several splinters in addition to the blood. Chris considered pulling them out with his teeth but decided not to, realizing that the blood was that of his murdered victim, and tasting it would almost make Chris a cannibal. Every couple of steps held some sort of blood splatter, and for each of these Chris was forced to acquire a finger full of splinters. Finally, with three stinging fingers, Chris made it to the base of the stairs and peaked around the corner, hoping to avoid his mother and father, being unable to face them today. Chris, to say the least, was ashamed of himself, and couldn't stnad in front of his parents, their only child and a murderer. Fortunately, Chris' parent weren't there, but talking in the back room. Chris took a few steps through the front room, quietly unlatched the door, and steeped outside. He had escaped. Chris' top priority was to leave the house as far behind as possible today, since he couldn't bear to have his parents see him the day after he had murdered someone. Chris expected that his demeanor was different today, whether because of his transgression or the guilt of it. His mother, for sure, would spot this discrepancy, and worried, would begin mothering Chris and inquiring about what happened. Of course, Chris wouldn't be able to utter any explanation of the past few days, 1251 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 inflaming his mother's curiosity, and causing her to initiate some investigations of her own, only to uncover the blood soaked armor and sword. She might even, through her awareness, discover some missed blood spots, and in the end she would confront her son with unanswerable questions, forcing Chris succumb to her pleading and divulge the carnage. That would only tear up Chris' mother. Of course, she would not turn him in, but would she ever love him again, her own son who had murdered his brother? No. Chris walked away from his parent's house, the buildings and people sliding past his hurried stride. The sun radiated its light upon the world, unobscured by any clouds, and although on any other day Chris would have enjoyed its warmth and clarity, Chris found himself glancing up and hoping that the sun's prying eyes would be blindfolded. Chris' guit even made the light-blue sky turn uncommonly dark, exhasperated by the brilliant sun, which bleached out the buildings' color. Hiding behind the dwellings, perhaps even clinging on for dear life, were the shadows which, doubtless, the sun never saw. Chris suspected that the mighy illuminance even denied their existence, but he well knew that someday the sun would get a peak, just the slightest glance, of the darkness which hid behind all buildings, mountains, trees, and creatures, and the horror of such a truth would cause then sun to hide its face forever. To Chris, a creature who had seen the sun's denied shadows all of his life and failed to notice them, the shadows now revealed their true identity, and made Chris even dreaded to walk into their cold touch. Chris continued to make his escape although he didn't know where his hiding place would lie, but randomly crept through the alleys and road-ways, affecting turns by any whim that overtook him. Chris realized that he was attempting to get himself lost in the city, lost in the masses, and lost in the world. But, what was trying to find him so badly that he wanted to get lost? His parents? Another turn and Chris walked down a narrow passage, damp laundry hanging on ropes above Chris' head. He even glanced up to see if any of them were bloodstained although he didn't know why. Failing to find any solace in the previous alley, Chris blindly took a turn and ran into a sweating fat man with dark curly hair, and a little mustache, holding a leg of lamb in his hand. Chris bounced off of him. "Hey, watch what you're doing!" yelled the man, and he waved the carion. Chris took a quit 1252 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 look at the man and was amazed at the man's eyes, which dwelled on Chris, displaying the twin emotions, fear and hate. Why was he looking likke that? Was something wrong about Chris clothing or face? Were blood spots, somehow hidden before, now revealing themselves to others? Had this fat man seen him last night before or after the carnage, and suspected the deeds of the previous night? Chris continued to stare into the eyes which had keenly locked on him, but disenaged from the gaze after a few moments and made his flight down a main road,way taking as brisk a pace as possible so not to attract attention, although Chris was obviously attracting attention. People stared and leered at him now, seemingly knowledgable of his deeds and they would look up from their daily chores in anticipation, their eyes following Chris as he walked past. Some may have continued to watch Chris until he would round a corner, but he wasn't willing to look back and risk making them more suspicious. After all, Chris knew that his brain might be distorting reality and imaging the significance of the people's stares which were just wondering why Chris was in a flustered state. But maybe some of his thoughts had escaped his soul and now displayed themselves on his face, or maybe he had the dead-man's blood smeared somewhere on his face. Either way, Chris decided that he must act as normal as possible, but he couldn't remember what his daily routine was, what expression he normally wore, or how he typically walked. One night had erased his old personality and replaced it with a void of a man who didn't know who he was. Chris returned to worrying about his face, which he decided was really the culprit. He had, after all attended many public hanging and intently watched the criminals which were to be executed. He had always noticed a different look on such people, something maddening, which called out danger signs to him. If he had ever met them on the street, even if he had never heard of any of their crimes, he would know them for criminals by their demeanor and gaze. Occasionally, while walking on the street, Chris would pass such a face and remember, so that he would ever see it on the end of a hang-man's nooise he would prove his theory. Perhaps Chris' face had transformed iteself in accordance with his actions, and all of the people which Chris had seen and had marked Chris as a future hang-man. Was Chris really one of these? Would he be hanged?
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November 12, 2011 As Chris continued to zig-zag through the buildings, people continued to stare at him as he passed, and Chris started to believe that he was hallucinating. Such behaviors weren't possible sinc Chris had never seen it done before to anyone, not even the people he had secretly suspected of evil. But then, what could explain the reaction the man he ran into? Chris knew that his mind could play tricks, but Chris was sure of that stare, the fear, and the hatred. What of that man? How could Chris logic him away? Maybe Chris had killed his son, and by some joke of fate Chris had run into him, causing a mysterious instinct within the fat man to precieve his own child's murderer. What would the father think of Chris, who had murdered his son? Could Chris explain that they were in mortal combat fighting to save someone's life, and to do so had to take several others in the process? What if his son was really a good man, but he had been low on money to pay the rent or he had to help his father and mother pay off some creditors? Did such a man deserve to die? Perhaps Chris' enemy would have been his friend during any other time or in any other circumstance. He may not have even wanted to fight Chris at all, but wished to make peaceful amends. After all, it was the victim who was skulking in the back, trying to avoid combat, but Chris had stupidly suspected him of being treacherous one. Who was the blood-thirsty warrior? It was Chris who attacked first. It was Chris who took the first slashes at his enemy's chest. It was Chris who was the beast. Would his parent's ever forgive him if they found out? Would the man's mother ever stop crying? What would Chris' mother do is Chris disappeared? She would spend months worrying, even years, wondering what her son was up to, if he was still alive, if he was hurt, or if he was well. She would sit by the window every evening, and every night would retire with tears streaming because her beloved son had not returned that day, had not returned that month, had not returned that year. She would wonder if he had run away because of her, or her questioning would circle around onto herself, blaming her son's disappearance or death on her own imagined transgressions. She would suffer endlessly because of her own imaginings.
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November 12, 2011 But, what then if Chris' body were returned to her, with a sword impaled through his gut? Throughout the funeral she would lament and question the gods why that had taken her son. Once again she would blame herself for raising her son improperly, for not making him stay home that night, and for a thousand other mistakes she had made. This would be devastating to her and would rend her heart from her still living corpse. And what was worse, she would never know what had happened, or what if she did? What if she knew that her son was killed for no particular reason? What of the murderer? He had attacked her son, who had tried, with his best efforts, to escape the fight. What would this do to her? She would give up her life, and become a walking corpse, all of the love she had seeping from her soul-less cage, and what was left would be the sorrowful reiteration of her son's murder. All of this for a penny. Chris stopped walking and found himself standing at the top of Inviroth, only a few hundred meters south of the castle which metted out justice. He stood at the edge of the cliff staring down out into the sea, the docks below him where men went about their business, oblivious to Chris' pain. Chris turned around and faced west and watched the sun set behind the Ranson Mountains, their shadows trampling over the land obscured from the sun. In a few more minutes the sun would lose sight of Chris, and the icy-cold shadows would consume him. Chris had only to take a few steps backwards and he would escape the shadows forever. Which pain was worse, the momentary impact with the rocks hundreds of meters below, or the prolonged agony of a conscience?
CHAPTER 17: BUGBUG
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November 12, 2011
Roy sat outside of the wharehouse four nights after Susan, Chris, Dan, Shaj, and John had gone down into the underground and found Mike's body. Roy had watched as Shaj carried Mike's body out of the door, strapped Mike to his horse, and ride off into the darkness wwithout a word. No one had seen the Ferazi since then, but no one was willing to go into the little warren and find out any news. Chris might have done so, but he came out of the underground acting strangely and had refused to talk to anyone, even Dan. Roy suspected that some sort of monster got to Chris but no one who was down there admitted seeing anything. Dan had asked Roy to continue watching the wharehouse to see if anyone else stopped by, and for the past three nights Ted and Roy sat outside the silent building without anyone coming or leaving. Roy was once again sitting outside the warehouse tonight, using the over-turned garbage can as a makeshift house with all of the amenities, including a pantry. Unlike the previous nights, Ted had not shown up and Roy was left to himself. Without any diversion to control Roy's thoughts, they inevitably wandered around to Roy's friend, Mike, now dead and gone forever, something which Roy had never experienced before and had not yet grasped. Roy still found hunsekf wandering off toward's Mike's apartment to have a chat, and stopping himself half way there when he realized that Mike's apartment was empty. The last time Roy had seen Mike alive was almost a week ago, in Lloyd's when he had been asked to watch this very same building, and then not one sight of him until Shaj walked out of the warehouse carrying Mike's body. Roy wondered what had happened to both of them, suspecteding, as did Dan, that the police had found the Ferazi carrying a dead human and executed him on the spot. Dan said that Mike would have been burried by the guard in an un-named grave because they wouldn't know who he was. He would be forgotten by the city. Roy wouldn't forget Mike, however, because Mike was very unusual human, one that was so different from the rest as to actually be nice. Mike had orange hair, although human's called it red, and a freaked face which was continually smiling, almost as if some sort of masterful prank had just been pulled, and Mike was wallowing in the joke. He had none of the stern and depressing features common to Humans, nor any of the personality. Everything was a game to him, and if he lost, then the game would 1256 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 begin afresh tomorrow. He was a human who was a hair shy of a Remozsh's personality. Mike and Roy would walk around the city and "investigate", as Mike called it, romping around in search of something which they had never seen before, spending endless hours aimlessly strolling through the alleys and crooked streets in the act. If they walked by any unique shop, Mike and Roy would enter for a look-about, and any shop-keeper which protested Roy's presence would be rebuked by Mike and given a lecture in the Remozsh's defense. Mike would threaten to take his business elsewhere if the keep continued his protestations, and all of the while that Mike was with Roy, he would never enter and establishment without Roy's being capable of doing so also. Once inside these magnificent display cases of the world's artistry, Mike and Roy would look around at all of the items, giving each its time for investigation and conjecture, where it came from, what it was for, and who made it. Roy would find ornate boxes, colorful paintings, books, glass jars, ceramics, clothing, hats, musical instruments, jewelry, and wood contrivances from all over the Empire, and Mike would explain to Roy where these came from and how they were made, and if he didn't have any idea, Mike would inquire with the shop keeper as to their origin. Roy had never heard of such places before, and could never remember the endless list of names afterwards, but Mike knew about all of them. For the most part, though, Mike never bought anything from the stores he perused through, but only took what was free, the sight and knowledge of the places they came from. At most, when Mike and Roy were far from home at dinner time, Mike would buy food for himself and Roy, some bread, cheese, and beer from the stalls lining the streets, sometimes even a sausage or half chicken. The meal would be consumed in transit from one interesting vista to another. Mike's head would swing back and forth from one side of the street to the other, and his food-bearing head would attempt to keep its edibles next to the swaying head. All the while Roy would jog next to Mike's quick stride and trying to maneuver, see which direction Mike was looking at the moment, and spy what he was looking at all at the same time. Often times Roy would fail at one of these operations, either missing something interesting, falling behind Mike, or running into someone. 1257 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 On some of these walks, especially the ones nearby the sea, Mike would discover the most interesting people, none of which would talk to Roy if Mike were alone. But while no humans would condescend to talk to Roy, they were willing to share their stories with Mike and let Roy catch the scraps of the story which were intended his friend. The people whom Mike found had been outside of Inviroth, were born in other cities, some of the in the mountains, or the swamps, or plains. They had traveled to interesting places, foreign cities with roof-tops of gold, or rivers for streets, or marble buildings, or even Ashtar, and they in turn yarned even more extravagant adventures of wars in the desert, battles with Trolls, excursions through mountains higher than the clouds, and one of them had even seen the Ashtar dragon. Roy had never seen any of these, and had difficulty imagining them, but he did hist best. However, some of the stranger's stories were so complex that Roy would have been totally lost if Mike had not reiterated them to Roy when they were alone and explained all of the fine points. After their walks, Roy would sit in Mike's apartment and talk with him, both sitting on the bed, each having his own half, with their heads propped up against the wall. The two would spend hours talking about the world and their daily lives, but mostly it was Mike who would provide the entertainment. He would tell Roy about what he was doing at work and any news which he had discovered, and Roy was listen intentently to every word, although the stories of the factory work usually confuseing to Roy and took some clarification on Mike's part. Mike would also read to his friend from the many books on his shelves, chosin from a selection of stories from distant lands, many of them about famous heroes would saved damsels and won deadly battles. The novels recounted such incredible places, people, and hideous monsters that after the first story Mike had read, Roy took to imagining that the strangers he saw had escaped from the books and were the famous warriors mentioned within them. Roy's imagination would would dub them to be one of these heroes, and then the Remozsh would follow the icons all day to see if they lived up to his expectations, and if they really were the denizens of books. Sometimes Roy's subjects really were interesting figures, and turned out to be sea-farers or army men. Roy told Mike about his explorations whenever he had such good fortunes and Mike eagerly listened to Roy's stories, peppering them with large numbers of questions exploring details which Roy had forgotten to mention. Of course, Roy did the same 1258 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 when Mike was reading a book or explaining some sort of intricacy about the Empire because Mike kept on mentioning people and places which Roy had never heard of, and the story wouldn't be complete without a full sketch of the denizens. Consequently, Mike had said, the stories took about four times as long as they would have if Roy had kept quiet, but had added that the books were too short and curt, and that Roy's questions enabled Mike to lengthen the books and increase their realism. Mike was happy to have the questions asked, and Roy obliged him. But now Mike was dead. Roy, just as he had for several weeks previous, watched the building for Mike, whether Mike were dead or alive. Although Roy didn't understand the reason for the vigilance before, now he was sitting outside the desolate building to discover Mike's murder. Dan had set him to the task of watching and following anyone who entered because the person who entered would know something of Mike's death. Roy hadn't seen a soul enter the building for the past four days. but now, after several more hours of rummaging through old memories, Roy's attentions were alerted. A horse cantered down the street, closer and closer to Roy's hideout alley, the hooves clipping on the cobblestones of the street and upsetting the night-time silence which had pervaded. Roy commonly saw horses during the day, but Roy's nocturnal experiences on the open street told him that the horses weren't ridden at night, and now this unusual sound awoke him out of his trance. Roy leaned forward in his over-turned garbage can and listened, for the most part dearly hoping that the horse would ride past and leave Roy to his brooding and silence, but Roy also longed to find out who had murdered his friend and to do whatever he could to capture the villain. As the hoof beats closed, Roy slid to the back of his garbage-can dwelling, where he could see the wharehouse door and part of the window through the circular portal of his garbage. The rest, including the main road, was obscured by his housing's walls. The horse clipped steadily forward, and just as Roy began to believe that it would canter past the alley, it slowed, seemed to turn, and then took a few steps into the alley. Roy couldn't see anything but couldn't find the courage to leave his garbage can. The horse stopped and the rider dismounted with only a slight rustle, not even 1259 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 his boots making a sound. Roy heard very quiet footsteps and watched a cloaked figure glided into his view, directly towards the door. The man's entire body was covered, with a long, black, hooded cloak which hung to just a hand's width above the road. While the cloaked man walked, he hobbled back and forth, his movements rippling down the cloak's fabric which swayed in counter-rhythm. Not a bit of flesh was left uncovered. The figure glided up to the door and stopped right in front of the door crack with his back to Roy. This must be the murderer, thought Roy, who then decided that he was wisest to just sit, watch, and be absolutely silent. The man's obscured hand opened the door. He stuck his hooded head inot the building, and after he seemed to be satisfied by his look around, the man slid into the building and closed the door behind him. Roy still sat and watched, hoping that the man would leave the wharehouse because Roy didn't want to enter the building, espcecially not at night when there was an exit from the underground world through which monsters could escape. Roy saw that a light flared up from somewhere in the middle of the warehouse and escaped from the window and the door cracks. The escaping beams of light wavered back and forth for a minute before they slowly crept up towards and disappeared and the wharehouse went dark. The man had descended undergound. Roy sat and watched the lights climb skyward, wondering what kind of person who would wear a black cloak. Obviously he was up to some nefarious activities, or he wouldn't be camoflaged and lurking in the night. Perhaps he was an evil sorcerer gone to visit his henchmen in the underground and he had created a magical fire so that he could creep down the hole into the underworld and not be taken away by its inhabitants. Somehow Mike had discovered the monstrous plot and was taken captive by the necromancer, and even tortured but Mikewouldn't give away his secrets, and because of that was murdered. Perhaps instead, the cloaked figure was a member of the Thieves' guild who had come here to check on his mates. Maybe the cloaked figure was the grand dragon himself. Roy suspected so because no other thief would own a horse, walk so quietly, and be entirely robed. Mike had uncovered a great crime which was about to be 1260 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 committed by the guild, maybe even a plotted assassination of the Duke, or a smuggling enterprise. Tonight, the grand dragon came to gloat over Mike and learn what his mates had tortured out of Mike. But Roy knew that Mike never told and expected to hear a scream of frustration come from the grand dragon after his plans were foiled. Or, perhaps - Roy shuddered - perhaps this was some denizen of the under-earth which had been roaming the world above in search of kills, just like Roy's mother had told him. It had come out of the holes and crevices of the ground early in the night and wandered around the earth's moon-lit surface. When the beast would find a lone Remozsh, it would drag him screaming under the ground, and keep him there for ever after. The cloak probably concealed the monster's terrified victim, held immobile by cold white claws which sucked the heat from anything they touched. Mike might have been found by this evil and dragged to this warehouse to be terrorized by the beast, because Mike had discovered the truth about the underground, unlike other humans, and knew how it was sucking the life out from the world above. Roy had dreamed of this before, of monsters prowling underground just like the stories his mother had told him about lurking terrors and creatures whose fearsome howls could be heard for a day's travel. In fact, the tales were so frightening that Roy's mind refused, as best it could in this situation, to ponder the gruesome tales any more. Instead, the Remozsh turned his attention to the present moment and the duty that lay ahead of him. The wharehouse, it seemed, had been quiet for half an hour, although Roy wasn't sure of the time. The robed figure must have gone underground, but what could take it so long? Roy knew that the man should have surfaced once he found his dead comrades. But what if he knew about a back door of some kind? Then he would escape and Roy would never know who murdered Mike. Roy couldn't allow this so he decided to watch the pit until something came out. Roy would be fine as long as he didn't have to go underground. Roy slowly crept out of his house, causing it to sway back and forth as his four limbs redistributed his weight. Roy then snuck up to the door and opened it a crack, 1261 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 peeked in, but couldn't see only darkness. After not hearing anything either, Roy was assured that the wharehouse was empty and slow crept to where the remembered pit was. Something creaked half way to Roy's destination and he halted motionless and quiet, except for his throbbing heart which was pounding loudly enough to wake up anyone within the neighborhood. Roy slowly scanned around the room, expecting a dark figure to rush towards him at any moment, but didn't see or hear anything. What could have caused the sound? It could have been the villain, or maybe it was just the building creaking, or a board giving way under its own weight. Roy forced himself to believe that it been one of the later two since Roy wouldn't allow the first one to be a possibility. Roy returned to his task and slowly crept towards the pit expected position, but just a short distance from where Roy had expected the hole, he placed his probing down and it went below the ground level. Roy quickly recoiled it, not so much for fear of falling, but because he didn't wish any of creatures, whose obscure rules of monsterness kept them always underground and prevented them from reaching even a hand above the surface, from grabbing his foot and wrenching him in. Having reached the edge of the pit, and attained his goal, Roy sat down to await the cloaked figure's climb. After sitting by the chasm for half an hour, wondering every moment if something would climb out and throttle him, no one climbed out of the pit, and Roy began to get nervous. Of course, he didn't really want anything to come out because it might be a demon hunting for warm blood, but he did want to discover who the cloaked man was. Roy couldn't understand how anyone could stay below ground for so long, even Dan, Chris, and the others had only been down for a few minutes, and suspected that the man had taken another way out. Perhaps the underground connected to another building through which the villain could escape and Roy would never be the wiser. The next day Roy would have to explain to Dan how he had lost Mike's murderer and Dan would call Roy stupid because once the villain had discovered that his plans were thwarted he would never return to the underground hide-out. Mike's murderer would never be found and Roy would have to suffer the rest of his life knowing that he grasped the opportunity to help Mike, but let it slip away. 1262 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And why did Roy lose that chance and spend his remaining years in shame, he asked himself. It happened because Roy was too much of a coward to trail the monster more closely, because Roy was only willing to sit by a hole and wait for something to come out. The one time Roy could have really helped Mike, Roy let Mike's murderer escape because of Roy's own selfish fear. He had always accepted gifts and friendship from Mike, and now when he could give something back he was too afraid to risk his own safety and venture into the darkness, from where he had seen his friends descend and then ascend without any harm. But what if there were really monsters down there? Maybe the beasts were frightened off by Dan and his companions, all of them wielding weapons and armor. Roy, without even a knife, would be seen by the demons, wandering all alone and defenseless. They would pounce on Roy, who would only manage a curt scream before being dragged off, and then he wouldn't do any good to Mike. Or what of the robed man had some sort of weapon? Even without monsters, Roy would find the villain but then he might be killed, or even worse, tortured for everything he knew. Eventually Roy would give in, everyone except heroes did eventually, and then tell everything about Dan, Chris, John, Susan, and Shaj. They would all be hunted down and killed, all because Roy thought that he was a hero and chased this villain underground. On the other side, Roy might discover who the perpetrator was or where he lived by following him there, and once Roy had a place, Royt could run and get everyone else. They would be able to get the man, and then Roy really would be a hero, and even more significant, he would have done something for Mike, in adventure which Mike would enjoy. That was it! Roy decided to follow the villain into the depths of the earth for his friend, even if it meant his own death and torture. If he were captured, Roy would never reveal anything, and would manage to resist by thinking about his friendship with Mike, and his obligation to the others. With resolve in hand, Roy peered over the pit's rim and looked strait down into its mouth. It was dark except for a faint glow at the bottom, perhaps from a lantern or fire. Roy crawled around the rim until he found the spot where Dan had found a ladder. Roy laid on his belly with his feet towards the pit, and slowly pushed his feet over the precipice, all the time expecting cold hands to clench his ankles and yank 1263 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 them, along with the rest of Roy's body, down into the darkness. Roy nearly paniced when, about half a meter down, his feet met with something cold and hard. What was it? A claw? Roy was about to spring off it when he realized that the object didn't move because it was a ladder rung embedded in the wall. Letting himself slide down even more, Roy sent his left foot down lower to look for the next rung and found it half a meter below the first. Roy's right foot left its peach and descended below its left to find a new support. Sliding a bit more, Roy grabbed the first rung with his hands, and then he realize thar for the first time in his life, he was wholly underground. Roy's fear rushed back to save him, and this time Roy expected some claws to grab him by the waist, and have their tickling fingers pull him under even further than he had voluntarily come. He swivelled his head to see as far around himself as possible and found it all clear, but an arc of unknown still remained directly behind him, just large enough for the horror to be lurking and watching. After the inevitable grasp of death didn't come, Roy abandoned his fears and continued down, rung by rung, until his left foot met solid earth and Roy had climbed into a barely illuminated room with slightly glowing walls. Roy stepped off the ladder and looked around. He was in a room about the size of Mike's apartment, with stone walls, floors, and ceilings lit by a subtle red light coming from a passage opposite the ladder rungs. The floor was cool, but warmer than the ground outside, and had a layer of dry dirt over it. Roy remembered to start breathing again now that he was out of immediate danger, but when his took his first breath he smelled something putrid in the air. Roy looked around to see what was in the room but it was empty. Concluding that the underground always smelled that bad, Roy felt slightly safer and walked towards the hallway, the only way which the man could have gone. As he got closer, Roy saw that the passage made a bend to the right a ways down and that the light came from beyond the bend. Roy silently walked down the narrow hallway, but stopped just before he reached the bend, wondering if the villain was waiting on the other side of the bend, ready to grab Roy as he walked around. Roy stiffened and listened, but could hear was his heart beating and the faint crackling of a file. Roy's courage peeked around the corner and then Roy followed suit. There was 1264 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 nothing there but another long passage opening into a large cavern, but only a small part of it was visible from the end of the passage. Towards the center of the cavern was a torch and some sort of black object. Roy remembered to take another breath and noted that he air had putrified even more as he ventured further in. When Roy reached the edge of passage he beheld the whole cavern, taller than a building and as large as the warehouse, with roughly carved ceilings and walls. At the opposite end of the circular room were some wooden crates, blankets, and an extinct fire with surrounded by a ring of stones and an iron kettle hanging over it. A large pit, much larger than the the last one which Roy had entered, opened in the center of the room, with a proped-up torch and a bundle of black cloth next to it. Surrounding the pit in odd contortions were four human bodies resting on stained areas of the floor, but nothing moved in the room except the shadows dancing around the torch light. For a moment Roy thought that the cloaked man had killed them, but then realized that they were done in by Dan, Chris, and Shaj. Abandoning the protection of the hallway, his bravery strong, Roy crept up to the well's edge, a hole the width of a man. Propped against a large stones was the burning torch, with a bundle of black cloth, the cloak which the perpetrator was wearing, near by. In between the two was a rope, tied to one of the crates near the edge of the room, and falling over the edge of the pit. Figuring that he'd already risked his life several times and that another shot wouldn't hurt, Roy looked into the well. It was deeper than the torch's light and didn't have any wrungs worked into its side, letting Roy feel a bit relieved that he couldn't climb down, so he wouldn't have to. However, the villain had obviously climbed down the pit with the rope because he was nowhere in the room. Roy didn't know how to climb ropes so he didn't need to feel guilty about not going down. All that Roy had to do was sit and wait for the man to climb out. Roy sat down for awhile and planned to wait the man out, but then he began to wonder why the man would climb down into a very deep well. Thoughts surfaced, thoughts which Roy didn't want to explore, but which continued to knaw at his conscious mind. Maybe the man wasn't human, but was a creature from the under-world and was returning to its home, and if Roy were caught waiting around its front door, it would drag him
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November 12, 2011 down there, just like it had Mike. Hadn't Mike's body been found at the bottom by Shaj? Roy stood up and backed away from the pit and wondered what he could do about his predicament. If the man really was a monster then Roy couldn't kill it, not even the bravest warrior could do so, and Roy would never be able to avenge Mike's murder, at least not alone. The best the Roy could accomplish was to cut the rope trap it underground so it would never get to the surface again. If it were a man, though he wouldn't be able to climb out either and would be stuck in the well until Roy could bring Dan here and capture him. The only problem with the plan was that Roy didn't have a knife, and chewing through the rope would take a long time, maybe too long. Roy could, however, pull the rope up before the person down there would notice since hauling up a rope didn't make much noise. The rope would be high above the villain's hands before the he'd notice and by then he wouldn't be able to grab it. Roy gave the rope a tug, but it didn't budge at all. Roy pulled harder still but it felt like it was tied to a huge boulder. The murderer was too clever, and must have known that trick. Roy sat by the well-side for a few more minutes to consider his plight. He needed a knife or he'd never capture the villain, but where could one be found? Roy looked around for a knife but all he saw were dead bodies, a kettle, and crates. The dead men had fought with Dan, Chris, John, and Shaj; Maybe they had weapons still on them. Breathing as little as possible, Roy walked up the closest body, laying decapitated on the ground, its face buried under its back. The Remozsh first searched around the perimeter of the body for any easy prey, but not finding any knife or sword, he was forced to give the body a closer search. Roy didn't find any knives on the body's belt, neither above, nor below. Where else would a knife be? Roy looked at the body's hands but didn't see any knife or sword in them. In Mike's stories the villains always had a knife in their boot, but the carcase had only a pair of worn shoes too small for any knife. After looking over the other three bodies and not finding any weapons Roy concluded that he was once again foiled by the clever villain since Dan hadn't taken any weapons away. The villain must have taken the swords and kniveds down in the pit with him.
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November 12, 2011 Lacking any way to cut the rope, Roy decided to untie it att the crate. He walked up to the crate which the rope was tied around, found the know, sat down, and started working on the knot, pushing and pulling at random portions of the rope to loosen it. As he worked on the knot, Roy noticed something strange; The rope was moving, ever so slightly, by itself, swaying from left to right by a hair's width, all the while twisting and untwisting just slightly. Roy thought it strange, so he grabbed on to the rope to feel if it was really moving. It was, with a periodic rhythm. What could that mean? Roy answered the question in an instant. The villain was climbing up the well. Roy too late! Roy's eyes followed the taunt rope to the pit where the swaying was much more visible. Something moved at the well. A white claw sprang over the well's lip! Roy didn't wait a second longer, but jumped up and sprinted towards the passage, which had, unfortunately, a pit with a monster inbetween it and Roy. Instead of making a straight line, Roy ran counter clockwise and around the edge of the underground chamber, never daring to look back at the pit. Roy had to trample over one of the bodies half way over, but he figured that, after all, the body was dead and Roy wasn't, yet. Roy could hear some sort of scraping and scrambling behind him by the time he reached the passage. The monster was pulling itself out of the pit and starting the chase! Roy was sure that if he could only get to the surface he would be safe. Roy pushed himself even harder, running as fast as he could down the passage, so fast that he couldn't stop when the tunnel made it's turn, and Roy ran into the wall and fell down. He couldn't even hear the creature chasing him now, just his heart beating. Roy scrambled up and continued scrambling down the passage. He was very close, only a short sprint to the ladder which would lead him up to safety, when Roy heard something close upon him, but he wasn't certain with all the noise his heart, feet, lungs were creating. 1267 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Reaching the end of the room without being mangled by a claw, Roy grabbed onto the second lowest ladder rung and begun climbing. The room suddenly darkened as a shadow passed through the passage. Roy grabbed the third rung and stepped onto the second with his right. He pushed himself up with his left but didn't go anywhere. Something had him! Roy was torn from the ladder by his shirt collar, screamed as loud as he could, and then fainted.
CHAPTER 18: BUGBUG
Roy's collar tore off into the beast's claw, freeing the Remozsh of his noose, and allowed him to bolt up the ladder, his fiendish opponent thwarted. As Roy climbed up through the small tube he could hear the monster's whistling breaths and feel the wind rush as it's claws missed grabbing Roy, but the climb was too small for its gargantuan body and it couldn't squeeze through it. Once at the top he jumped off of the last wrung and towards the wharehouse. door, but the building had changed, and Roy was in another vaulted chamber with a tall buttressed ceiling resembing the inside of a cathedral. Burning torches, held by iron hands protruding from the wall, illuminated mosaics of demons on the floor. Roy was completely confused, having expected to break free and run out of the wharehouse into the safety of the streets. The ground shuddered and dust erupted out of the ladder's hole next to Roy as the monster tore away the stone below, 1268 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 excavating a larger passage for the creature. Roy took a quick glance at the pit just to make sure that nothing was climbing out yet, but all that he could see was a rising cloud. Since nothing had come out yet, Roy took some time to locate the exits, finding eight of them evenly distributes among the four walls. Although Roy had only noticed two doors to the wharehouse, one of them being large enough for a cart to go through, he had never known that there were passages leaving it. The ground jumped again and, Roy suspected, the hole near him widended at its lower end. Not wasting another moment, Roy darted through the closest one of the eight exits to the room, hearing the last remnants of the stone being torn from the ladder's tube as he had reached the tear-drop arched doorway and bolted blindy into the dark passsssage. Even though the corridor was completely dark, Roy ran into it at full speed, fearing the worse fate which was pursuing behind him. Running into a wall was a much friendlier fate that being disembowelled by a steey white claw. Roy's hallway was straight and dark for a long distance, but then the walls acquired a green glow which lit the way. The passage began to spiral to the right and up after a few minutes, and although running up hill was tougher, Roy felt elation because he was escaping the deep holes and any moment he might escape the monster's domain. Of course, that assumed that Roy could manage to run longer and faster than his nemisis, whom Roy had lost track of. Roy stopped and turned around to see if his life was still mortally endangered but the hallway behind him was empty and silent, or at least as much as Roy could hear above his own heavy breathing. He took the pause to catch his breath, and then Roy continued to plod up the slope as it gradually spiralled to the right. Because of the odd scale-like stones used to line the tubular passage, Roy almost felt as if he were climbing up an inverted snake which had coiled in upon iteself. After walking up the same rising helix for what seemed like hours, all of his leg muscles begging to stop, the tunnel began to brighten and Roy heard a familiar clamour of noises and voices, those of a city. Roy began running again, eager to get out of the darkness and back into Inviroth, which he could hear coming from up ahead. But instead of running out into the sunlight of the city, Roy leaped straight into a natural cavern several stories tall and incredibly vast, lit by the same 1269 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 phosphoresent glow which illuminated the tunnel. Scattered among the colored stalgtites were hundreds, if not thousands of chattering Remozsh standing around and talking. Roy, amazed, wandered out of the seclusion of the passage and into the cavern among the other Rmozsh, more than he had ever seen in one place before. A lot of them looked familiar, and Roy was sure that he had seen many of them on the streets of Inviroth. He even stopped to talk to a few, greeting them with, "Hi, I'm Roy," or "Hello," but they all stared oddly at him. Roy progressed towards the center of the cavern, dodging stalagmites and icy pools of water, where he saw a large, flat, open floor of sparkling white sand. "Roy?" A woman spoke from behind him. Roy turned around and looked at an old, female Remozsh wearing a scarf on her head for a hat. She seemed familiar, but Roy couldn't remember where he'd seen her, and wondered if maybe he'd worked with her at Lloyd's. "Roy, don't you recognize me? I'm your mother." And then Roy did remeber, and she was his mother, but Roy couldn't figure out what she was doing here since she had died several years ago. "Mother?" was all that Roy could get out. "Come over here and let me give you a hug," she said and held out her arms. Roy didn't know what else to do so he gave her a hug and unleashed a flood of memories, mostly about how he had left her eight years ago and had never seen her since. She was bigger then, Roy having grown somewhat. His mother disengaged and then called out to someone, "We've found him! He's okay!" The Remozsh which she was yelling to turned around and ran over. "Howdy Roy. We've been lookin fer ya." "Ted? What 'r you doing here?" 1270 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ted looked confused. "Tha same thing yer doin, escapin." "But why aren't we in Inviroth?" "This 'z Inviroth, silly," answered Ted. "Oh." Roy didn't know what else to say. He was too thoroughly confused, since his mother wasn't really dead, and even more so, because Ted knew his mother and didn't even tell Roy. Just then the ground shuddered silently and everyone froze, silenceing the room. Ted swung his head to look around while Roy's mother held her hands flat against her cheeks in a startled expression. "Come on. We've got to go!" said Ted, and he began to turn around. "Why?" "Because it's coming." Ted took off. Roy's mother continued from where Ted left off, "Hurry up boy and lets go." She took his hand and led him across the sand flats, at first at a brisk walk, but after another shudder it turned into a run, tugging on Roy's hand rather than leading him. Roy tried to run with her but could hardly keep up, no matter how fast he moved his legs, and shortly he lost grip of his mother's hand and she sped away without him. Roy kept on running as fast as he could, but the others outpaced him and left him behind in an empty chamber, right in the middle of the sand flats. Roy stopped and looked around, trying to see if anyone was around, but he was alone. From a few meters in front of Roy, the ground warped up and then down, sending a circular ripple out from itself, which jolted Roy when it reached him. Another more powerful disturbance occured and another ripple ensued, followed by a series of other even more powerful waves which rocked Roy at each passing. Roy, worried about sur-reality of the flowing ground, turned around and ran as fast as he could, but the waves always cought up to him and passed him, destabalizing his run as they passed underfoot. After several waves which nearly topped Roy, one was successful and landed Roy on his face. After falling, Roy lay there for awhile and tried to get up 1271 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 but the waves continued to increase in strength and he could barely raise himself up with his hands before being pushed first forward by an oncoming wave and then falling back as it rippled past him. All that Roy could manage to do was to turn himself over and ocasionally gain a glimpse of the waves' source about twenty meters away as Roy's entire body bobbed up and down. At the source of the waves was a gigantic arm which extended out of the floor from a submerged shoulder, with clawed fingers as large as roy's arms, and an arm as thick around as Roy's body. The arm swung around and branced against the ground, and began to pull up the rest of a body, first an indefinite head and then shoulders. Roy tried to scream but his voice refused to let anymore out then a small whisper, and then turned over and crawled away from the claw as quickly as he could. He would barely get a few steps forward before a tremendous wave would knock him off his knees and Roy would be forced to get up. After half a minute failing to make progress crawling, Roy didn't even bother getting up but began to roll his body away from the source, using the oncoming waves to gain speed and distance. All that Roy could see, when he was grabbed, was a spinning world alternating between sand and a black cieling, and he didn't even see the earthen claw which grasped him and choked the life from him. Roy screamed as the air was scqueezed out of his chest. And then Roy awoke. He quickly sat upright and looked around to find out where he was. He was still underneath the wharehouse, sitting next to the hole where the monster had come out from. Everything else seemed to be the same as it was before he had seen the monster. Roy wondered whether he had just had a dream, and whether he was still having a dream or not. "Are good you?" asked a scratchy and familiar voice. Roy looked around and saw Shaj sitting crosslegged behind him. A flood of questions swarmed into Roy's mind, starting out with such simple ones as, Why am I here? Why are you here? Where am I? Roy couldn't figure out which one had happened first. 1272 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Huh," said Roy, "Where am I?" "Oonder varehouse," answered Shaj. "Where 'z everyone else?" "Who," asked Shaj. "Ted, and my mother, and all the other Remozsh." Shaj, apparently puzzled, squinted and retracted his head a bit back. "No Remozsh." Roy didn't understand this response so he waited another moment for Shaj to continue on, but the Ferazi only titled its head and blinked. Failing to get a response to the last question, Roy threw out another, "Where's tha monster?" "Vat monster?" inquired the Ferazi, and he tiled his head the other directon. "You know, the one that chased me. I saw it's claw come out of the pit, and it started running after me, and it... it grabbed me back here." recalled Roy, and he finished by tugging at his collar. "Ach, I monster." The Ferazi moved his head forward and stopped squinting. "Climb I in tha vell and hear you up," explained Shaj. "But... but, what about the weapons and the black robed man? The villain came and took away all the swords so I couldn't cut the ropes," said Roy, stating all of the facts contradicting Shaj's story. The Ferazi's head jumped back again and tilted in thought. "Took weapons fo' Mike, I. Wear b'ack robe I." Shaj nodded to finalize the statement. Although Roy had a difficult time understanding, the Ferazi's broken explanation deflated Roy'ss heretofore insistence that a monster had chased him. "Oh," was Roy's only response. After that Roy was quiet for some minutes considering what had happened when Shaj broken the silence. "Ask kestion to you I?" 1273 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "OK, sure." "You Remosh. Bring you oonderground vut?" "Huh? Oh, you mean, 'What brought me underground?'" Shaj nodded. "Well, I didn't want to, but I thought you were the bad guy, and I couldn't let you, I mean the bad guy, escape. You might have found another way out or something, and then we'd never find out who killed Mike." This apparently satisfied the Ferazi's question because he remained silent until Roy asked the next question. "But what were you doing down in the well? When I asked Mike, he said that there was nothing at the bottom of a well except water, and Dan said that this one was dry." Shaj took a few moments to consider his response. He stood up, grabbed hold of the rope trailing into the pit, and started lowering himself in. "Not well. Come. Show you I." With one free hand the Ferazi motioned for Roy to climb down the rope after him. Roy, naturally, was appalled by this suicidal move, and didn't wish to climb any further away from the surface than he had do. "Hey, stop. Don't go down there! They'll grab you and you'll never come back alive!" A puzzled look came over Shaj's face and then vanished with a semblance of a smile, or at least as much as Roy had ever seen from a Ferazi. "Forget you, I monster. Safe down at bottom." "No, but there might be other things down there. I messed up when I thought you were a monster, but they exist and... and they live underground!" "Safe at bottom. Show you I." At this Shaj, who was hanging on the rope half way submerged in the pit, got out. He gently picked up Roy and put the Remozsh on his back, wrapping Roy's arms around his neck, and before Roy could protest, Shaj had grabbed hold of the rope and was down the well's side. "Hey, what are you doing?" Roy was totally helpless, hanging onto the back of the Ferazi with all his effort and rapidly being carried further from the surface than he had ever wished. But Roy couldn't do anything, because even if Roy had the bravery 1274 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 to grab for the rope and climb up to the surface, the Ferazi was between him and the rope. All Roy could do was hang on and worry about what kind of danger he was being carried down into. The Remozsh did a very good job doing both of these. Shaj had to remind Roy to loosen up his arms so that Shaj could breath. When not doing his best to strangle his ride, Roy was continually darting his head and body from side to side just to make sure that there weren't any beasts or demons hovering just behind Roy in his blind spot. Occasionally Shaj would dislodge a stone, or so Roy hoped, and it would make a thunk when it hit the bottom of th well, causing Roy to peer down in the darkness, dreading to see a pair of glossy eyes staring up. Eventually Shaj requested that Roy would hold on tighter so that the Remozsh wouldn't move around as much an nd throw off his ride's balance. By the time that Roy reached the bottom he so was thouroughly exhausted from his endeavors that he sat on the sandy ground and looked around. Roy looked up first, and saw that far above, perhaps thirty meters, was the chamber from which he had come, represented by only a small disc of light. The torch at the top only illuminated about ten meters down the well's walls, creating a bricktextured corona around well's illuminated entrance. Down below, the circular wall completely encircled their two inhabitants with large bricks, except for an opening next to the dangling rope, through which light shone. About ten meters beyond the doorway Roy could see another torch burning. Roy thought it strange that Mike had never said anything about passages being at the bottom of wells. But then, Shaj had said that this wasn't a well. What was it then? What was through the doorway? And then Roy remembered his dream. Immediately, Roy scrambled for the rope after having thought long enough about the facts and deducted an answer. Roy's hand reached the rope before the Ferazi even realized that Roy was moving. The only thought that ran through Roy's mind was that the well was not a well but a passage to the same underground which Roy had dreamed of! Beyond the doorway was an endless maze of passages twisting in chaotic array, just like Roy's dream. Other large chambers with vault their ceilings and similar pits would be found, leading even deeper into a world of terror, just like 1275 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy's dream. From these caverns and pits would escape the beast and it would pull Roy down with it, just like Roy's mother had said. Roy hoisted himself on the rope up a hands length. But, the Remozsh wasn't quick enough and the Ferazi caught hold of Roy's ankles. For a minute Roy did his best to haul both himself and Shaj up the pit's side but eventually gave up and stopped climbing. Shaj tried to pull Roy away, but the Remozsh continued to grasp onto the rope with both hands and refusing to let go. Roy felt like he was a flag in a steady gale, pulling the tether rope taunt, holding on for dear life, and only prevented from flight by his attachment to the strained rope. All the while Roy screamed, "No, let me go. It'll get us!" Roy continued to clench the rope until his hands were pried from it by the stronger Ferazi. As soon as his life line was separated from him, Roy curled up into a ball. "Like not you unde' grund?" asked Shaj. Roy made no response. "Monster I, but not mean. Live here no one now. It safe." Shaj tried to look into Roy's eyes. Roy buried his head. "This old F' Rasi home. It safe. Look through it already, I. Come, show you, I." Shaj took one of Roy's hands to try to coax him into coming. "But why?" asked Roy. "Because friend Mike you, friend you I." "Huh? No, why do Ferazi live underground? What about the monsters?" The Ferazi thought about this for a moment and then shrugged. "Underground home." Seeing that this answer didn't satisfy Roy, Shaj continued, "F' Rasi home warm. It comfortable. Smell right. No rain. No cold. It safe from monster."
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November 12, 2011 "Oh," answered Roy, not wishing to disagree nor willing to agree. The ground didn't feel particularly warm to Roy, the darkness and confinement was not comforting, and neither was the smell aromatic. Of course no rain got down here and it wasn't very cold. However Roy still wasn't confident that he was safe from any monsters, and he would rather have wide open spaces to run in than narrow corridors to chose from. "Come. Show you I," said Shaj as he tugged on Roy's hand. "But what if a monster comes?" Shaj executed his half-smile again and with his free hand, the one not holding Roy's, he pulled his sword half way out of it's sheath and then slid it back in. "Kill it I." This satisfied Roy enough that he got up and followed Shaj. After all, Roy couldn't get out without Shaj, and if Shaj entered the cave and was killed, Roy would end up just as dead.. The two walked through a short passage into a domed chamber about six meters across carved from stone. In the center of the half-dome was a fire pit about half the size of the room, with a torch propped up in the center of it. Exiting the room were seven dark passages, the smallest of which Roy had entered through. Shaj sat down on the edge of this pit facing the torch, his feet barely touching the bottom of the depression. Roy followed his queue and sat down besides the Ferazi. Roy's feet dangled and kicked the pit's walls. Roy continued his visual inspection. The floor, walls, and ceiling were one piece of solid rock, without any stone and mortar being used anywhere. Furthermore, the walls and ceiling formed one continuous dome of roughly hewn texture except for a few reliefs. The chamber ceiling was a sky populated with soaring birds, their relief wings and talons dancing with the rhythm of the room's fire, with a hole directly above the fire pit surrounded by carved rays eminating from its center. Roy almost could imagine that he was watching the aviary spectacle on a sun-lit plain. "What are those birds?" asked Roy as he turned to Shaj. 1277 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Ferazi, who had been looking at Roy, turned his head up to the roof and tried to explain. "Eagles. Protect the room the eagles." "But why? Who carved them?" "Carved the eagles did F' Rasi. Protector of this family the eagles, so would be safe family." "Oh," said Roy, but he continued, "When were they carved?" "Carved two thousand years past." Shaj scanned the room and took a deep breath. "Wow, that's old." Roy stared around mesmerized, but he quickly thought up another question. "Where do all those tunnels go?" Shaj answered this by pointing to each one in turn and describing it's origin, starting at the tunnel they had entered from. "Big chimney that. Use when no fire pit. Next store room of food. Next tunnel going up and outside, but blocked by stone fall. Sleeping rooms at end of three more tunnel. Last is tunnel going other place. Do not know where it goes, I." "Wow," repeated Roy. He hardly minded the vague descriptions of the tunnels. "Mike never told me about this. Did he know about this? Did you tell him?" Shaj looked at Roy and then down at his chest where his right hand grabbed a white disc through which passed a piece of twine encircling his neck. "No," said Shaj. For several minutes he sat and stared at the dying torch. Just as it gasped its last breath, Shaj took Roy out of the chamber and climbed up the pit.
CHAPTER 19: BUGBUG 1278 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Excerpt from: A Traveler's Guide to the Ashtari Empire, Volume VI, Anecdotes. by Derek Halfstar. Published in the year 1035 of the Ashtari Empire.
A Brief History of the City of Inviroth:
The avid reader of my journeys will have noticed my tendency to boast about the majesty and wonder of my native city, Inviroth. And although boasts abouyt oneself are generally considered rude and unbecoming of a gentleman, I put the weight of my reputation upon the quality of Inviroth, and attest that every shining dome and window of Inviroth deserves the attention which I deliver to it. I act only as a mirror reflecting the light of its gilded edifices in the direction of the reader so that he too may bask in its radiance. Unfortunately, words form but tiny mirrors, and no matter how truly they are positioned or how many shards a glued together, I am only capable of assembling a fragmented image of the true beauty. To wholly understand my sentences, the reader must himself make a pilgrimage to the largest city in the West. Until then even the grandest cathedral of words is naught but a collection of sentences, but once the real cathedral is experienced in life, the cathedral of words transforms from a series of sentences into a hand-held duplicate of the real structure. Since I have so often shown Inviroth through occasional annecdotal fragments, and never through a proper looking glass large enough to reflect the city's scope, I devote this chapter to the construction of a larger mirror, although I fear that even if I were to devote a book towards illuminating Inviorth the constructed mirror of words would still be far too small to experience the aggregate spleandor of the reality. I shall start my construction at the beginning of Inviroth's history. Nearly two thousand years ago, yet a millennium before the foundation of the Empire which so well benefits us, a wise king sat on the throne of Olias, a land which is now part of the central Empire. Under wise king Arsellus' feet sat his three equally foresighted sons, Feneroth, Inviroth, and Amroth. 1279 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At the time of the monarch's reign many thousands of colonists from the tiny preEmpire kingdoms were traveling to the newly discovered Haeth, what we now call the Western Empire, in hope of expanding the reign of humanity. The West was not populated and thriving as it is in modern times, but contained nothing but an unharnessed wilderness whose arable soil was left to rot by the land's only cognizant inhabitants, the Ferazi. It was because of this race that the human colonists did not flourish, for the coloniests were continually besieged by the belligerent Ferazi, and being forced to protect themselves rather than nurture the soil, very little ground was gained. Amroth, the youngest of the king's three sons, perceived the lamenting call of the western lands and persuaded his father to grant Amroth five thousand colonists to lead to the west. With great reluctance, for Arsellus deeply loved his son, Amroth was permitted to sail with five thousand men and women in nearly one hundred ships. With Amroth's skilled leadership the fleet reached an amicable bay and the city of New Olias was founded. Soon a thriving city was born into the new world, surpassing the king's grandest expectations, for extensive trading opportunities in extravagant spices and glistening metals soon appeared. Neither could the belligerent Ferazi tribes tarnish the colony since their disorganized forays were easily destroyed by Amroth's skilled militia. Arsellus' second son, Inviroth, after watching fifteen years of glory go to Amroth, approached his father and requested ten thousand men for a second colony in Haeth, a request which was happily bequeathed. Inviroth, with an the largest armada Olias had ever seen, navigated the population to a site several days north of New Olias. The new city was built at the base of a cliff upon whose height was raised a magnificent castle to defend the territory. Around the city and castle was constructed a great wall to keep out the wild beasts of the new world. When Inviroth first arrived at the destined city's site it was occupied by a tribe of Ferazi who had excavated large warrens in the cliff's stone, and he was forced to wage war upon them. After many fierce battles, both above and below ground, Inviroth defeated the host and repelled them from the land. In order to prevent treachery, which was not uncommon among the Ferazi, the warrens were sealed up
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November 12, 2011 and forgotten. No Ferazi or human has entered them since, and many suspect that over the course of two thousand years they have all collapsed. The new city, Toez, grew and prospered for ten years under Inviroth's rule, the citizenry of both Inviroth and Amroth growing wealthy in their trade partnership, and the two cities behaved as one large metropolis accidentally divided by one hundred and fifty kilometers. Much of the bliss was destroyed when the unethical Ferazi mustered an army eight thousand strong and assaulted the walled city of Amroth. The colonists were driven into the besieged city and would have soon been murdered by the hoards if it were not for its brother city. Inviroth, with an army of seven thousand raced down upon the Ferazi, and Amroth's militia, seeing a distracted enemy, rushed out of the gates and pinned the Ferazi. A bloody battle ensued, but by the end of the next day the field was littered with eight thousand of the enemy. Unfortunately for both cities, both of the king's sons, Amroth and Inviroth lay encircled by a ring of dead Ferazi, the brothers' bodies having rended of life from thrice-mortal wounds. The twin cities grieved their loss for a fortnight and in memorial, the city of New Olias was renamed Amroth, and Toez became Inviroth. Over the next millennium both cities grew in population and gandeur, surpassing the beauty of the old world's cities. And even though the two brothers were no longer alive to lead their people, benevolent rulers continued to maintain amiable relations between the two brother cities, working together to foster trade and protection. Within a few centuries, the brotherly cities in coopreation with other new-world cities, had driven the Ferazi beyond the forest and construct several colonial towns further west, some of which ultimately grew into moderate cities. A trade rout was established starting at Inviroth, leading through Amroth, and running west through the Southern Rift mountains. Along it the populations prospered from mining, fertile farm land, and exotic woods and furs from the Fafar forest west of the mountains. While Haeth, where Inviorth and Amroth are, was relatively quiet, the east struggled under the burden of numerous wars. I will now divert my eyes from Inviroth and gaze into the east, over the inner sea, so that my mirror may reflect the conception of the Empire. Even though this story does not immediately concern Inviroth, it has a significant effect upon the city, and, even more so, is an excellent tale and important for the historian to know. 1281 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A few years prior to the foundation of the Empire an enormous dragon flew into Loeh Thalve, the region now called the Eastern Empire. The belligerent worm scourged the cities and countrysides, relentlessly burning and killing until even the bravest warrior offered the most valueble prizes was loath to charge this monster with a lance. The kings averted their armies from the battlefield and stationed them within their cities to no avail, for the dragon could not be shot down by arrows and it safely incinerated any city which it wished. Ultimately, the dragon settled in the metropolis of Ashtari, and made its den in the kings' palace, a beautiful edifice of marble. The cities denizens escaped just in time and awaited a day's travel outside of the city walls for a savior knight to arrive and slay the beast. Criers were sent throughout the land in search of the bravest chevaliers to slay the worm. Many of the mightiest knights marched into the city of Ashtari and battled the dragon but none ever survived the combat. This dispairing trend continued until one glorious summer day the mighty Jaher Ters braved the icy stare of the beast. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of his infamous history, Sir Jaher was the best knight who ever lived. He fought mightily at the battles of Bathgate and Sudwick, felling hundreds of treacherous enemies before succumbing to the two dozen arrows which had pierced his armor and being carried off to the healer. He, his destrier Falensar, and his enchanted blade Galanthil, impaled fear into the hearts of evil, whether the evil be in the shape of man or beast, for Sir Jaher was the holiest man in the kingdom, and well beloved by the gods. He was the only man who could have evicted the serpent from the city. The people, intimately knowledgeable of my previous revelations about Sir Jaher, cheered as the heroic warrior marched into their deserted city to reclaimed it. The knight did not return for a week, and often times the good citizenry would note the silence and fear that he too had been claimed by the dragon, but then a great roar would echo from the distant buildings registering the knight's constant battle with the lizard, and summoning such a cheer from the people which made the dragon's screams of battle mere whimpers. But, when the victorious hero returned he had accomplished a feat beyond even the people's imaginations.
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November 12, 2011 The knight did not return with the dragon's head dragging behind his war-horse nor did he set a beacon in the city to bring the citizenry running back to their repossessed home. Contrary to expectations, he rode out of the city gates with the enormous dragon in tow behind, a servant dog following his master. Sir Jaher had defeated the fiery serpent in fair combat and elicited an oath of allegiance to the knight and all his heirs. The holy warrior declared himself the king of Ashtari and the dragon the king's servant. The entire populace, except of course the previous king of Ashtari, cheered and immediately crowned Jaher Ters. King Jaher and his progeny subsequently began the Ashtari Empire which embraced hundreds of smaller city states into its bosom, making Emperor Jaher the most powerful man alive. Although at first Inviroth resisted the expansion of the Empire, its rulers ultimately perceived the wisdom of such a bond, and although they lost a degree of self-control, the defense and prosperity brought about by the Empire countered the weight. Fifty nine years after Jaher emerged with a subservient worm and declared his sovereignty, Inviroth bent its gilded knee to the knight's son. Under the Empire's protection of Haeth, the Ferazi threat vanished east of the great rift mountains but the lands of the Farfar and the plains beyond were still in dispute. The malcontented Ferazi warriors lead many forays into the forest villages, turning the houses into their inhabitant's funeral pyres. At the peek of the masacres, in the year four hundred, the benevolent Emperor heard the wailing and declared war upon the Ferazi kingdoms, a conflict which only ceased half a generation ago. Inviroth, being at the birth of the only road passing through the southern rift mountains, and being well favored by the Emperor, was the funnel through which all of the troops passed into the west, benefiting Inviroth immensely through the war's commerce and bravery. The war ended just a few years before the authorship of this book, and Inviroth is rapidly adapting from cargo loads of troops to cargos of trade goods which are sold throughout the Fafar forest. BUGBUG: Could make this longer by talking about the rulers. Now that I have performed a rapid illustration of Inviroth's past, I shall expound upon its contemporary virtues, for I am sure that while sitting in his arm-chair the reader, although desirous of visiting the Inviroth of old, is more interested in the present 1283 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 because of temporal constraints. Therefore, rather than tugging the reader into the past and unkindly chaffing his patience with literary shackles, I bring you Inviroth as is: Inviroth is a metropolis of two levels. From the sky Inviroth would look like a semicircle with it's straight edge against the azure sea to the east. The north end of the city rests upon a high cliff, connected to the southern portion by a gradual slope to sea level. The site is optimal for a city, affording both protection from a castle mounted high upon the northern cliff and a southern port with deep waters. The castle is the most impressive sight of the northern metropolis. Although it is little used today, the Empire having eliminated city-state rivalries, the majesty and power of the castle still bear the mark of Arsellus' son and would buckle the knees of any invader. The castle walls are well placed against the cliff edge, providing protection of the port and excellent sight of incoming vessels. Those not in the warrior profession will appreciate the view from the castle's towers, especially the great east tower from which one can see an azure sea to the east, a glittering city to the south, purple mountains to the west, and extensive fields of green in the north. All of this can be gotten with the aid of a well tipped guardsman. Extending from the castle gates is Garden Street, a lane of opulent mansions and lush foliage. Some of the most beautiful structures in the city line up along the brickcovered lane, including the gilded church of Shoel. I highly recommend a casual stroll along the way, for on this street lies half of the beauty and all of the power of Inviroth. Nowhere else in the Empire will you find such a row of mansions. Ultimately, Garden street meanders down the hill, past the lesser but still magnificent brown-stone domiciles of the merchants, and into lower Inviroth where it ends at the Forest Road. From this intersection the touring man has the enormously difficult selection of heading east towards the port, or west into the heart of the city. I, dear reader, will first lead your intellectual eye towards the ocean's peninsula and then, once there, immediately translate back to the intersection and travel in the contrary direction. As one strolls along the Forest Road towards the sea, turning with the road as it snakes a course through the city, the buildings increasingly reflect the courage and 1284 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 sagacity of the sailors which visit them during their short sojourns on land. By the end of the rout, the inns and shops resemble land-locked vessels with their names proudly bearing some mention of the sea and its inhabitants. Teir construction is akin to that of a ship's belly, and every edifice's unique character is not unlike the variety of freighters which dock a short walk away. Some of the buildings even have a gentle lean, and one can imagine them swaying to and fro over a period of years, in sluggish imitation of their mobile neighbors. The docks themselves are immensely interesting because of the proliferation of heroes, anecdotes, and legends-to-be which exercise their daily labor in the humble disguise of sailors, merchants, and traveling soldiers. A visitor would find it profitable to accost an interesting-looking mate and haul him into a pub. An excellent tale can be gotten only for an ale or two, a far slimmer rate than that of a troubadour or adventurous tome, mine own excepting, of course. While I am discussing pubs, I must take the pulpit and explain why they are such necessary institutions for the community. There are only three places where a community congregates: church, the market-place, and the ale house. Of these, the church is by far the stodgiest, with the worshipers so engrossed in saving their own souls or escaping the verbosity of the preacher as not to utter a word of friendliness to their neighbor. The market, on the other hand, is rather a foil to the holy buildings, consisting of a street where every man is a businessman whose sole concern is to stab his neighbor in the back for the savings or profit of a few pennies. Sometimes even, the market is a scene for a macabre entertainment where one watches a hereto-fore neighbor be stabbed in the back, or perhaps hung from a tree. All in all, it's not a nice place. Ultimately only the pub is left as a communal gathering, and I sorrow for the metropolis without such a building. Nothing is better than a pub, call it ale-house, tavern, bar, or watering hole, for community. It exists as the only structure in a city where people, who just hours ago were contented with undermining one another, are able to join together in a common cause, hearty drink, good talk, and camaraderie. Two enemies may walk into a pub, but once there they are equaled and the business of mutual extinction is waylaid till another time. By now I suspect that my readers are bewildered as to this sophic discussion of structures. I inform you such to aid you in your journeys, especially those in Inviroth, 1285 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 for to truly understand a man, or a neighborhood, or a city, you must talk to him, not in a business context, but as fellow man. No better place has been fashioned than a house of drinking. More can be learned from a mug of beverage than a hundred dollars stuffed into a man's pocket in the market, or a like tribute given in a temple, and above all you will more often than not leave as friends. A man is never far from an ale establishment in Inviroth, the buildings being strategically placed by some higher intelligence so that one's feet never have to walk for more than two minutes, a trip well worth the exercise. As Inviroth is a rather large city, at least a two hours walk in either direction, I deduced that there dwell no fewer than nine hundred such buildings. Since the list is far too long for a chapter, I suggest only that you visit the most interesting pub in Inviroth, Lloyd's. I have expounded upon the virtues of this very house frequently in my travel logs, and while the food is often lacking, one will feast upon the tales within, for no other pub has such noteworthy clientele. Lloyd's is a haven for traders and adventurers from the great forest, and those who have recently departed from their ships and are heading west. Such a worldly assortment of men exists nowhere else. Even though you may be lacking any heroic anecdote, worry not, for there is plenty to spare and men are free with their words. Thus I recommend to you: Drink well and dine heartily at Lloyd's, but do not, under any circumstances, eat the food. I must ask your pardon,m for without your knowledge I have already transported you west of the Garden and Forest road intersection because that is where Lloyd's is found. Besides Lloyd's, the west side of Inviroth contains a respective proportionment of lesser pubs, and idyllic maze of streets, and a new business concept known as a "factory." Although this is still a buzz-word, typically considered meaningless, this noun does have substance and appears as an enormous building where each employee attaches small parts to a contraption. If enough of such parts are pasted and welded together a useful object is created, such as carriage, chair, or crossbow. What is incredible about such manufacture is the worker's requisite skill, about nil. A "factory" eliminates the expensive guild-member from the construction, requiring only a disfigured kind of apprentice. However, you'll only find factories in Inviroth.
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November 12, 2011 Of course, trades guild-members are infuriated by the heretical factories, and they would have thwarted the enterprise before its conception if it were not the Emperor's decree. Unlike every other city in the Empire, perhaps in the world, guilds are illegal in Inviroth, not just the tradesmen, but also the entire cast of higher guilds such as the Wizard's Guild, Technological Unification Organization, and the West Empire Trading Company. Consequently, the guilds are more active in Inviroth than any other city, only they are mutually clandestine with their feuding. The populace is well aware of this feuding and will quickly attribute any suspicious murder to the guild of the day. Inevitably, the most blamed organization for city mishaps is the Thieves' guild. According to the populace they control not only the back alleys and encompassing muggings, but larger thefts such as the disappearance of cargo and the tax code. Old men swear that the guild has the majority of city officials under its hand. And, to add to the conspiracy, the populace preposterously claims that the guild harbors itself in the ancient Ferazi tunnels beneath the city, filled in a millennium ago. Further inquisitions will place the Technological Unification Organization as the owner of the factories. This is not as far fetched, because the guild espouses mechanical devices to be the panacea of the Empire, rather than the magic of the Wizard's guild. However, experts also believe that the Emph Kelzar race control the Technological Unification Organization, and their albino skin has never been seen in Inviroth for several hundred years. I have only ever seen one once while I was exploring a remote castle, and the man was quick to take leave of me. Since I believe the experts, I cannot admit to the guild controlling the factories. Inviroth, as you have read, is an exciting and impressive city and I have only reflected upon some of the more interesting aspects. The thousand or so mirror fragments which I have set before you only reflect a tiny portion of Inviroth's splendor. To comprehend the image which I have placed before you though, you must, unfortunately, put down my writings and make the pilgrimage to the greatest city in the western Empire.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 20: BUGBUG
Shashevaj sat crosslegged on top of a small, grassy hill, and browsed over the scenery, relishing every morsel of nature that he saw, from the flowing grass which waved all about him, to the tall oaks which stood above and sheparaded the grass. Beyond them, about one hundred kilometers to the west, rose the southern rift mountain chain, holding up the sky to umbrella the grasses and trees. Shaj leaned back against a small oak's trunk and yawned lazily while he relaxed. Not a sound could be heard except for the hushed whispers of the trees, and the singing of birds, each to his own tree. Off to Shaj's right was a large oak which held a sparrow, and in front of him was a tree occupied by a gold finch, which would alternate turns at whistling out their respective melodies. Shaj took a second away from the scenery to look around him for a clump of clover, found it, and then started nibbling on it, savouring the taste as much as possible. He hadn't had any for awhile and enjoyed the flavor, both sweet and sour at the same time, an excellent snack for the afternoon. Nothing had tasted so good for a long time. Nothing stirred beyond the murmering tree leaves and singing birds, no squirrels, no deer, and most of all, no humans. After spending so much time in the city, Shaj was nearly exstatic that he didn't hear or see a human, and travelled quite a distance to find a hilltop so secluded that no human was nearby. The closest one was at least several kilometers away because they considered this section of the woods to be haunted, but Shaj knew that wells of life such as the forest couldn't be haunted, only the barren lands of the city had ghosts.
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November 12, 2011 With the city far away, Shaj could actual relax and enjoy the world, perhaps recourperate enough and retain enough serenity so that he could survive a few more weeks amnong the buildings. The city was always dangerous, especially to a Ferazi, and Shaj was fully aware that humans were ready to murder him at any moment for whatever reason, a fact which twitched some Ferazi out so much that they couldn't return to their assignments. Shaj managed though, and although he tensed up while he was in the city, couldn't relax, and could barely sleep, he rejuvinated himself by escaping the clamor of voices. Shaj was safe now and could relax since he could smell or hear any human coming from a long distance, at least as far as the next hilltop over, which was about a kilometer's distance and out of crossbow shot. He even felt so relaxed that he took off his chain-mail armor, unstrapped his sword, and left them by his horse. Actually, there was one flaw to Shaj's senses. Shaj raised his left hand to touched the stump that remained of his left ear, and winced when his fingers contacted. The ear still felt strange to touch, even after two years. Touching his ear produced almost the same feeling as when his tooth was knocked out and he touched the virgin gum, except that his gums quickly hardened and lost all sensation. Shaj didn't miss the tooth like he missed his ear, either. Even though he could hear through it, Shaj could never tell where any sound was coming from with it, and his ear no longer heard any low frequencies, like horses hooves. This didn't matter at the moment, though, becuase if any horse or man approached from the left, Shaj would smell it because it was upwind. However, Shaj still remembered when the men surrounded him, lashed him with their whips, and kick him into unconsciousness when he fell down. Shaj didn't want to think about that night, though, and didn't have to anymore since everything was taken care of. Having finished his last bunch, Shaj looked around and found another handful of clover which he grabbed and began nibbling on. They were far better than any of the food which he had gotten in the city. Everything there was old and rotten, and any food which may have been appetizing was always soiled by the stench of carrion, making it wholly unappetizing. The only reason that Shaj ate any of it was because he was hungry, and not because it had any flavorable taste. The city markets had very few foods to chose from, and so little selection that humans only every classified food, or at least that which wasn't carrion, as either being a vegitable or fruit. Shaj considered both names to be inadequate 1289 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 classifications for the variety of leaves, stems, roots, spices, fruits, and seeds which existed. Shaj was especially confused at how humans could call both leaves and roots as "vegitables" since they tasted completely different. Although, coming from the human's market, all of the different food groups tasted equally as bland and could all be classified under the a single term, lifeless. Fresh food always eminates wonderful aromas when it's shook or broken, but the market's fare was always several days old and already rotting by the time it was sold. No one could live off the city's food, nor survive long in the city without a respite in nature. Shaj loathed the thought of returning to the city, not just because of the hoards of humans which inhabited it, but because the morass of two and three story buildings formed a labrynth which entrapped the soul. How huamns could stand living under such conditions all of their lives, Shaj couldn't tell. He wasn't sure if they had lost their way out and couldn't find the city gates, or if because of some dimented upbringing they didn't want to escape the maze. Sometimes Shashevaj would even swear that the city was designed to be a maze which would capture its inhabitants since it had no straight streets and no way to every get about the labrynth's walls and look down upon the map, except from the nobility's buildings up on the hill. None of the buildings could be seen over, or climbed, and none of the streets travelled for more than a few hundred meters before running into a dead end or turning and obscuring the view. Even the sun, watcher over everything, had a difficult time illuminating all of the roads except for the segments which travelled east-west. Only when the sun was at its peak, during noon, did the streets get direct lighting, and since Ferazi always sleep during the warmest part of the day, Shaj often went a week or more without seeing more than a glimpse of the sun. Shaj though that perhaps likening the city to a maze is improper since it is more like a prison. Every person has his own little cell, called a bedroom or apartment, with locked windows and doors to supposedly keep the criminals out. People keep indoors at night from the mugger-enforced curfew and breath stale air. During the day, everyone is forced to do hard labor from sun-rise to sun-down, most often for someone else's gain. Some humans, Shaj suspected, had never even been outside of the city walls to breath fresh air, see the sun, or run around in a field. Mike had given the same descriptions of a prison, although he denied that the city was a prison and 1290 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 insisted that he was free to do what he wanted. Shaj couldn't convince him otherwise. Another aspect of the city which bothered Shaj were the mass quantities of humans which lived there, producing population densities which were not wholly good, although Shaj lacked a better word. The masses of people in the city reminded Shaj of a colony of locusts which invade a field and crawl all over themselves in their culinary orgy. All they do is devour the land, multiply into even greater numbers, and then devastate any field where they settle, eventually flying off in a swarm to yet another field. They leave nothing in their wake but parched earth and stubble. Shaj couldn't understand why humans overpopulated the land as they did, continually breeding in greater and greater numbers until the land could no longer support them and the vast majority of humans were forced to starve. A Ferazi doe wouldn't, and in fact couldn't, have any babies if the warren were too crowded. Why couldn't humans? When would they feel that there was enough of themselves in the world? Shaj was saddened when he thought that his ancestral home, once a beautiful rolling field of grass on top of a cliff which overlooked the pale blue sea, was desacrated. The humans killed all of the grass and trees, put in mud and cobblestone roads, and then erected tall buildings of tar-covered timbers, twigs, and mud. His ancestral home was being rudely trampled upon by thousands of unwelcome human feet and might not ever completely be restored to its former vivacity. Of course, that's why Shaj was spending the last few years in the city, to find a means of ending the desacration. Shaj had a long task ahead of him, one which wouldn't be completed in Shaj's generation, or even his grand-children's, but it would eventually happen. Someday, the cancer which was behind Shaj, would be either torn or burned down, cleared up, and then reclaimed by its rightful inhabitants. Shaj would see to that, even if he died in the process. Shaj's contemplations about humanity brought his thoughts around to Mike, the only human he had every conversed with, and the only human friend he had ever had, probably the only human friend which a Ferazi had ever head. Shaj looked back and resented his decision of a few weeks ago, to return home during the festival of repayment. As was customary for the holiday, Shaj returned to his family's home for the celebration. He enjoyed the time while he was there, meeting brothers who he 1291 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 had not seen for at least a year because they were off in other human cities up and down the coast, such as Amroth and Fenworth. On his ride back home, he even rendevoued with his brother, Merishevaj, coming from Amroth, upon the same hill which Shaj sat. All of his relatives showed up to the gathering and spent the week enjoying each other's company and repaying old debts of kindness. Shaj and his family talked, enjoyed good music, and savoured excellent foods, such as Haruge, Nelen, and spice balls, probably the best time Shaj had in a year. But Shaj felt guilty for making the trip and failing to help Mike, something which would have saved Mike's life. Shaj had warned Mike that doing anything against the Wizard's guild was dangerous, and had asked Mike that he not do anything until Shaj returned from his journey home, at which point Shaj would help Mike. Mike, however, was so eager to become hero that Shaj should have seen it, and knowing of Mike's danger, opted out of his family celebration and remained in Inviroth. Mike relished the thought of intreague, he had told Shaj so, and Shaj should have remembered. Of course, all humans seemed to like excitement and they would endanger themselves just to find it, probably, Shaj thought, becuase of the broing state of their lives in the prison-style city. Unfortunately, Shaj did not entirely understand the predicament into which Mike had gotten himself, beyond the fact that Mike's death had to do with his work place. Nor did Shaj comprehend Mike's job and all that Shaj could descipher about the "factory" that Mike worked in was that Mike made a small piece of metal, actually several hundred a day, and then passed it onto his co-worker who did something else with it. Everyone at Mike's work made small pieces of metal, cloth, wood, or other materials, and then put them together to form one large object, which as far as Mike could tell, didn't have any reason to be, because it didn't look like any of the familiar objects of the city and didn't do anything. Shaj had only Mike's words to visual the object, but he was confounded by Mike's inability to place the object. Everything in the world can be torn apart, and all of its individual parts hint at what is larger. A wheel obviously goes on a wagon, a link of metal into chain-mail, and clay into a bowl. And futhermore, every object has an obvious use or it wouldn't be constructed. But then again, Shaj always considered humans slightly eccentric with their affinity for gadgets, almost an obsession. Ferazi built only a few different things, a few 1292 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 different tools for cooking, some for farming, a couple more for war-fare, and several for horses, probably no more than a hundred different types of tools, weapons, and other hand-made constructions in totals. Since he'd begun living in the human city, Shaj had seen more tools, clothing articles, and gadgets than he'd ever imagined existed. While a Ferazi chef survived with just one knife, a human cook had dozens of different specialized knives with arcane shapes. They even have knives specially built to cut the skin off of fruit, and a knife made for cutting bread. Shaj couldn't understand how the different in performance offset the work needed to make all of the knives. Humans also had an immense variety of clothing articles, several varieties each of shoes, socks, ankle bracelts, stockings, pants, dresses, underwear, shirts, vests, jackets, rings, necklaces, hats, gloves, cloaks, veils, and many other odd sorts. Shaj couldn't understand why a simple shirt, pants, and cloak didn't satisfy all of their needs in all weather and geographies. Humans didn't have any reason to a lot of what they did and made their lives immensely more complex because of their gadget quirks. He could easily concieve of them making something which didn't have any use at all except to waste time and augment their prison. For whatever reason, Mike was being payed to build a piece of metal which was being used to construct a useless object, and as far as Shaj was concerned, the object was the brain-child of some crazed human who would soon be without his money. Mike didn't think so, but speculated that the "factory" was producing something for the Emph Kelzar, and that it must be some of the technological magic which they performed. This was confirmed, when about a month ago, Mike saw a cloaked figure slink into the factory and pull the manager off into the office. Because Mike's station was close to the office, he was able to peak in and see what was going. What he saw and heard proved his suspicion. The cloaked figure was a tall albino, the same description of Emph Kelzar which Mike had read in his books, and he was telling Mike's manager about a plot by the wizard's guild to steal several of the objects which the factory made - Mike had a name for them but Shaj couldn't remember and use them against the technos. The albino didn't know when the theft was planned for, but told Mike's manager not to let it happen. Mike's thirst for intreague and excitement overtook him, and he decided to become a vigilatie and prevent the burglary himself, wining the respect of his manager, and maybe opening a door to a better future. 1293 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was all magic to Shaj, wizards and technology, and all sorcery was dangerous to get entwined in, especially getting inbetween the feuds of two powerful guilds vying for power. Shaj warned Mike to stay away, at least while Shaj was away, and thought that he had even convinced Mike to wait. All it would have taken was another week and Shaj would have been back. Shaj could have protected Mike if only Mike had waited. But now it was too late and time had decreed its sentance. Mike was dead. Shaj wondered if he should have stayed behind to work with Mike and either to convince him that getting involved inthe guilds was too dangerous or protect Mike from any danger. Although Shaj had an obligation to his family and was expected to show up at the celebration as he had done for his whole life, what Mike had done for him also obligated Shaj. That week was owned by two conflicting interests, his friend and his family, each of which had their own demands for time and fidelity, but Shaj chose his family since it had come first, before Mike, and would remain after Mike. If he had known what would happen, Shaj would have stayed in the city to prevent Mike's death and fail to meet his responbility to family, but Mike was going to stop his activities, or so Shaj thought. It was too late now though. Mike was dead. Shaj's friend was dead. Shaj took another look around to absorb some more scenery, and then searched beside where he was sitting for something to eat. Since there was no clover left within arm's reach, Shaj settled on dandelion and began picking at the leaves. As a kid he had tried eating the whole plant, including the stems, only to get one of the worst stomach aches in memory and since then has limited himself to the spicy leaves and occasional flower. He didn't care for dandelions as much as clover though, but it was a change in flavour and it definately was easier to get to. Once he ran out of dandelions he'd have to move to a different spot because although the grass was still fairly green, it wasn't nearly as good as the other two, and Shaj would only eat it as a last resort. When some of the grasses went into seed, their seeds were good, but they took a lot of work to extract. Once Shaj had freed his hands of several dandelion leaves they ventured to the twine necklace around Shaj's neck, at the bottom of which hung a circular bone, the only part of Mike which was still left. Shaj burned Mike's body a few nights ago, adhering 1294 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 to all of the Ferazi ceremonies, and then burried the ashes and remaining bones on a hilltop not far away, along with all of the weapons of Mike's murderers. Usually the matriarch of the family sung the last rights before the funeral pyre was lit, but because there were none around, and because Shaj didn't think he'd be able to find one who would sing for a human, he did his best to sing them himself, remembering most of the verses and guessing on those he couldn't remember in detail. Shaj wondered if it was proper to sing the last rights for a human, or even provide a funeral pyre, since Shaj had never heard of any Ferazi honoring a human that way. The ceremony was relegated to family, or a fallen comrade, and sometimes even a loyal and exceptional horse, but never a human. Mike, even though he was human, was at the very least a fallen comrade, and certainly more respected than a horse. The only reason Shaj had never heard of anyone giving the last rights to the human was because the Ferazi were at war with the humans from the beginning of the human's arrival, and possibly because there weren't any other humans quite like Mike. In the end, Shaj concluded that giving Mike the full burial rites of a Ferazi was appropraite. Shaj remembered watching the burning funeral pyre which released his friend's spirit. It started in the twigs where Shaj placed the torch and slowly spread onto the logs surrounding Mike, but as soon as it took to them, Mike's body was overrun by flame, starting at his feet and finishing at his head. Shaj could never stomach the smell of burning flesh, even when it pervaded the atmosphere of the city as the humans cooked their carion, but he understood that the flame was requisite to freeing the soul, so he bore the stench. After about a minute Shaj didn't even notice the smell because he was watching the hypnotic flames leap up and down as they fed. Sometimes he saw shapes in the fire, othertimes designs and patterns, and often just tranquility. As was common with large fires, the bright light against the darkness of night consumed Shaj, and all that he could do was stare into the light and be cradled by its brightness. On these occasions Shaj felt like his mind shut off, paralyzing both his thought and actions in comforting warmth. If anyone had even ridden a horse up to the fire Shaj would have been taken unawares, and wouldn't have much cared if he were even attacked at that moment. Shaj wouldn't have been able to move even a muscle to defend himself as he was struck down. He was aware of this just before he lit the fire, but Shaj didn't care, not that night. 1295 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shaj's hand went to his chest and rubbed on the bone again, and then receded. Not having snacked for a few minutes, Shaj groped around and found another dandelion which he chewed on. Wondering if there was anything else to eat within the vicinity, Shaj looked up at the tree he was sitting under. The tree was an oak which didn't have very good tasting leaves, being extremely bitter. He wished that he were sitting beneath a maple because its leaves were much sweeter and were almost as good as clover. The wind stirred up the chattering leaves for a moment and the birds quieted down. Shaj didn't want to return to the city, but he had to. Because of the clamour and danger in the city Shaj could never really sit and think, but now that he was safe, he needed to figure out what to do for the next few weeks he was in the city, until he had another chance to escape the walls. The household beneath the wharehouse needed more exploration than Shaj had given it. Unfortunately, with the Remozsh at the top of the ventilation shaft, Shaj didn't have very much time to do the searching that he'd wished. He only managed to look around the immediate household and find the neighboring rooms, but he didn;t get to check all od the passages, and one of them was partially blocked by stones and rubble. Shaj would have plenty to do moving all of the stones asside to see what was beyond. Hopefully he'd find more tunnels down there, and maybe an unblocked rout to the main artery. Shaj also felt obligated to find out which family the household was for, and could only guess that it belonged to either the eagle or falcon household from the cielings. A bit more exploration would reveal some more carvings or maybe some old clothing. Of course, if Shaj found the arterial tunnel with access to several other homes then he'd be allowed to marry. He supposed that the matriarch would want him to return to the city and continue, but Shaj hoped to convince her to let him stay and to send some other young buck. Shaj's nerves were almost completely frazzled by his current stay in the city and he wouldn't be able to make himself return, unless of course his family required it of him. Shaj also had another puzzle to solve, or at least to contemplate. Shaj was surprised to see the Remozsh - What was his name? Roy - underground and nearly ready to chew the rope apart in order to trap Shaj. Remozsh, so Shaj had heard, never ever 1296 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 went underground for any reason, not even the ones in the Ferazi kingdoms who are continually exposed to Ferazi living underground. Maybe Mike was good friends with Roy also, and the Roy felt compelled enough it risk its life to discover who had murdered him. Shaj never thought that Remozsh had that much courage and drive, or even care about anything enough to risk their lives. Maybe it was because Shaj had never spent the time to befriend one, or even talk to one. Mike, as Shaj knew, was an unusual human who, if he had befriended Shaj, would certainly be inquisitive enough to meet some Remozsh. Shaj wondered if Mike would have tried to befriend the Emph Kelzar had he met him. Mike was one of a kind. Another thing which Shaj had to deal with was the black-haired human who had insulted him in the bar. What was his name? Ned. Shaj had found out, that while he was off with his family, Ned and several of his buddies had come into the little warren, torn apart Shaj's apartment, and then murdered and skinned Filisathanem. Galan had gotten a good identification of the other three and spent the last week findout out where they all lived. The four humans would have to be taken care of and made an example sometime this week, and Shaj was to be one of the participants. However, Mike had begged Shaj not to harm Ned even though he had insulted Shaj, and Shaj still held that rule. He would volunteer to take care of Ned and give Ned a good scare, but nothing that would kill the human. Shaj wasn't entirely sure what he should do, but had been thinking about knocking Ned off and either cutting off an ear or castrating him, maybe both. He may not be guilty for murdering a Ferazi, but Ned had at least participated in hunting one down, which was grounds for retribution. And finally, Shaj had to find out who ordered Mike's murder and deal with him. Unfurtunate, Shaj couldn't act upon his revenge right away because he didn't know enought about who did it, and Shaj was never the smartest one in a group. Shaj didn't know anything about investigating all of the clues to figure out who behind the murder, especially not in a city of enemies. All that Shaj knew was that the murderer was a member of the Wizard's guild, and he didn't know who. Shaj didn't want to pick a fight with a guild, but if Shaj were to mess with the guild, he'd have to make sure that he got he right man, killed him, and got rid of any witnesses. Shaj would wait awhile and see what Susan's investigators could find, and if they led to the 1297 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 murderer, Shaj would participate in the revenge. If they couldn't come up with an answer, Shaj didn't know what he'd do. Despite the fact that the investigators didn't have any known reason for wanting to kill him, Shaj didn't trust them because they were Human. He had to interact with them though since only they'd be able to find out who ordered Mike's death. Shaj especially disliked being near them when they were armored and had weapons, and while he was underneath the wharehouse with them was worried that after finnishing off the enemy, they might turn on him. Luckily they didn't, but Shaj had to make sure to always be on guard around them, especially when they had weapons, and he'd always have to have chainmail and several weapons. Shaj even considered wearing his helmet, but he decided not to because of the impared vision and hearing caused by it. Senses would help him avoid treachery better than a helmet. Of course, if Shaj didn't trust them, they wouldn't trust him either, and Shaj wondered what they'd do when they didn't need him anymore. Would they still let Shaj on all of the information which they acquired or would they just shut him out and not let him revenge Mike's death? Shaj couldn't tell. Shaj's stomach interrupted his thoughts again and he took another look around the grass for some food. Surprisingly, he found a patch of clover behind him which he'd missed so he started chewing on that. While his mouth was busy, Shaj took another look around at the plains, mountains, and trees. He enjoyed and savoured the quiet and solitude. He enjoyed the sparrow's song, even the crow's kaw off in the distant hill. Shaj wished that he could sit on the hill forwever and never have to return to the city. It was too crowded, noisy, and smelly, and whenever Shaj was there he couldn't think clearly or even relax because of all the clamour. Shaj also wished that Mike were here sitting by his side and that he could bounce these ideas and plans off of Mike. Shaj missed Mike, but he couldn't do anything about it but avenge Mike's death. The world was an odd place. All humans were Shaj's sworn enemy, but Mike was his friend.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 21: BUGBUG
Dan and John finally found Cherry Street, after having to ask directions to it from at least four different people, each of which had said that all you had to do was go straight, make a left, then a few more lefts or rights which Dan could never remember, and you'd find it. "Can't miss it," was Dan's quote of the day. Well, Dan did miss it, no matter how obvious the street was supposed to be. Susan Andersen had given Dan general directions to find Cherry street, having been to Mike's "factory" on the street a couple of times, but her directions weren't clear enough. At least she had admitted it. Dan and John had both taken off of work early and gone to Mike's apartment after noon, having no other clues to go on except a few rotting bodies left underground, and neither Dan nor John were especially eager to search them for anything useful. However, Dan and John did find something especially useful in Mike's room, after searching around it for about half and hour, looking for any kind of crevice in which someplace important might be hidden. They even tore about the whole mattress and pryed up one or two lose floor boards, to no avail. About one o'clock John hit on the idea of checking out the dresser for anything hidden and removed all of the drawers, searching the back and undersides. Even though he didn't find anything on them, he did discover a small book beneath the bottom-right drawer which could only be found by removing the entire drawer. It was filled with a hundred or so pages, only about half of which had been scribbled on, with a thin wooden cover overlaid with black cloth, a journal by the looks of it. Dan didn't know why Mike had spent the money to buy the book - usually only rich people did - but he was glad that Mike had left it behind because it might provide some leads. Neither Dan nor John could read so after searching around for a bit more, the two took the book to Chris' house where they hoped that Chris would be well enough to 1299 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 read it for them. Dan had stoped by yesterday to see how Chris was doing, but he was still ill, refusing to see anyone, and rarely even letting his mother see him. He had been like that since the night that Dan, John, and Chris went underground. Today was no different, when Dan knocked on Chris' parents door, his mother opened it: "Hello, is Chris in?" asked Dan. "Yes he is, but he's still sick." "Could we talk to him?" "He hasn't improved since yesterday, but I'll check anyone. One moment." Dan watched Chris' mother walked down the hallway and though a door, the listened to her walk up the stairs, stop, and then knock on a door. She said something in a voice too quiet to hear, and after a moment, walked back down the stairs and out. "I'm sorry, but he doens't want to see anyone." "This is really important," said Dan in despiration. "Could we at least go up and talk to him ourselves." Chris' mother thought awhile and then said, "Sure, it'd be good for him to hear someone else's voice. Just go on up. I've got to get back to my cooking." "Thanks," said Dan. He and John walked up the stairs to Chris' door and knocked. No one answered. "Chris, it's me, Dan." A faint voice came from within the room, "Go away." "We've got to talk to you. It's important." Again, faintly, "About what?" "We've got Mike's diary and need someone to read it." 1300 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No resonse. "Chris?" "No, go away. I won't read it." "Why?" Dan heard some shuffling of sheets. "Chris?" The room was silent. "Chris, are you okay?" Chris gave no response. Dan tried to open the door but it was locked. "Go away," came Chris' meek voice. John began to walk down the stairs. "Okay, we're going." Dan followed John down the stairs and outside, where they stared at each other and what to do about Chris. John's only speculation for Chris' behavior consisted of only four words, "He's finally wigged out." That didn't help their predicament much, especially since they needed Chris to read the diary for them so that they could finish the work they started. Dan almost gave up when John remembered hearing Susan talking about reading. It was worth a shot. Dan and John walked over to Susan's house where they found her weaving for her mother in a back room, surrounded by the machinery used by her and her mother to make some of the cloth which her father sold. Susan's mother let them in the back room. "Here ye are Susan, two nice young gentelmen to see ya," said her mother. Susan stopped working and stood up. "Hello, Dan, John." 1301 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Oh, so ye know them. Would ye like anything to drink, or maybe sum crackers?" asked her mother. "No thank you," said Dan. John just nodded, "No". "I guess I'll be leavin ye then. If ye want anything jest give a holler." "Don't worry mother, we will," answered Susan for Dan and John. Susan's mother walked out of the room and slowly closed the door so that it wouldn't bang. As soon as her mother left, Susan crept up to the door, listened a bit, and then pryed it open a crack. Satisfied that her mother wasn't listening, she turned to Dan and John. "Please excuse my mother. She does that routine whenever she wants to marry me off." Dan pulled out the diary. "So what news do you have?" "We found this," said Dan as he held up the book. "We think it's Mike's diary." "Did you read it?" Dan thought about how to phrase his statement for a moment. "No we didn't. Chris can reaad, but he's not feeling too well yet." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do you need me to do that?" "That would be kind of you. Besides, if it is Mike's then you have more of a right to read it than us." Dan handed the diary to Susan. She opened it, flipped to the beginning, scanned over a few pages, and then answered, "Yes, it's Mike's. He starts out about a year ago when he left home."
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November 12, 2011 She continued to flip through the pages for awhile and then turned to a blank page near the middle, where she flipped backwards until she came to the last entry. Susan scanned through it, flipped back another paged, and scanned some more. After flipping back about three pages she stopped and read more slowly. "I assume that you're interested in stuff related to the wharehouse." "Yes," said Dan. Susan barely even waited for Dan to finish. "This entry here, from about two weeks ago... He talks about sending Roy to wait outside the wharehouse, and that Roy didn't see anything." Without waiting for a response Susan scanned back a few more pages and then stopped again. "Here's an interesting one... I waited outside the factory and watched anyone who came and looked around it at night. One guy did, and I followed him to a wharehouse about fifteen minutes away. He went in and never came out. I took a peak but didn't see anything. This might be the guy they were talking about. I'll have to find some way to watch it." Finishing that page, Susan scanned back several more, until she stopped and raised here eyebrows. "This one is important... I saw an Emph Kelzar come into the factory today. He was all covered but I noticed that he was tall, and seemed to be an albino, at least from a quick glance at his face. The man went into my manager's office and closed the door. I managed to listen in and overheard them talking about someone stealing something, I don't know what, from the wharehouse. They didn't know who would do it but they thought that the thief would be from the wizard's guild. If I can find out who it is, or prevent the theft, then maybe they'll promote me. We'll see." Susan sniffed and then perused back through a about twenty more pages without finding anything. "I can't find anything else. I've got to get back to work but I'll continue looking through for any more information." "That's fine. I think that the information about the factory is enough for now," answered Dan.
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November 12, 2011 Dan and John then proceeded to get directions to the factory from Susan, and after asking several other helpful people, finally found the factory. It was a large building, about two stories high, and large enough to house a wealthy family, which was probably its origin. The windows were all shuttered and the front door closed, just as Susan had described it. There wasn't even any sign to identify it as being a special building. Dan knocked on the door, and while waiting for someone to answer it, listened to the clanking and pounding muted from within, trying to descipher what was going on. After no one answer the door after thirty seconds, Dan knocked again, this time pounding. The door opened shortly, releasing a clamour of clanks, chinks, pounding, and sawing from inside. A tall, curly-haired man stuck his head out, "Yeah, whad-oo-ya-want?" "Hi, could we speak to the manager?" answered Dan. The man gave a distrustful look, "Whud for?" Dan didn't exactly know how to answer this. "We have some business." "Just a moment," said the gate keeper, and the door closed. It opened again just a minute later and a short man with neatly combed black hair, and well dressed with a clean white shirt and blue pants, walked out. "Hello, I'm the manager. What can I do for you?" "I'm Dan X, and this is my partner John Y." "Yes." "Were you Mike Ansdersen's manager." "Yes," said the manager, with a confirming nod. "Did you know him well?" asked Dan. 1304 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The manager's eyes raised slightly and he lifted his chin. "No," he said, "just a good worker." "What was his job here?" Lowering his eyebrows and going on the offensive, the manager began asking this questions. "Before I answer that, tell me what's up. And where has Mike been for the last week?" "I'm aftraid he's..." Dan wasn't sure if he should avoid Mike's murder or pull it out. "Well, he's been murdered." The manager's eyes widened and his head slid back a little. "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Who murdered him? Why?" Dan didn't feel comfortable about talking about this out on the street. "Can we go someplace private?" The superviosor looked around and considered the idea, but then decided against it. "Well, you see, I can't let you into the building, so..." He looked around some more. "We'll have to stay out here. It's not that crowded anyhow." The street wasn't very crowded and there certainly wasn't anyone near enough to hear. "Okay then. Mike was kidnapped, probably tortured, and then murdered." "My god. Who did this? Why?" "We know that they were thugs for hire." "But who hired them?" The manager seemed to be really concerned, and Dan wasn't sure if it was because he cared about Mike or because he knew something else. "Well," said Dan, "we don't exactly know that. Mike thought that some people were going to steel seomthing from this factory and he was trying to find out so that he could stop them." 1305 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The manager's eyes narrowed and he gave a very suspicious look. "From this building? I don't think so. All we make are buggy whips." "Mike overheard you talking with someone. He thought that you were talking to an Emph Kelzar. He heard you talking about a theft." The man, suddenly putting on a calm facade, quickly scanned the street before answering, "I'm sorry, but Mike must have been wrong, becuase I've never even seen an Emph Kelzar." "Regardless, we were wondering if you might know who would want Mike murdered." After looking around again, and checking the door to make sure that it was closed, then man said, "I'm sorry but I can't help you. I've got to get back to work so that I can get to the Red Garter in half and hour." Dan was confused. "The red garter?" "Yes, it's a pub about three blocks to the west." Dan gave a confused look and the manager gave a sigh and pointed to the west. "Oh, okay," said Dan, "We were just going there too." The manager nodded. "Well then, I'm sorry that I couldn't help you." At that he opened the door and disappeared inside. "What the fuck was that about?" asked John. "I think," said Dan, emphasizing the last word, "that he wants to meet us at the Red Garter." "Fuckin wierd." "Yeah, you're right. This whole thing is, but we'd better head on over so that we can meet with him."
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November 12, 2011 The two friends found the nearest east-west street, and then followed it three blocks to the west, where they stopped at the nearest interection and looked around. John saw it first, a tavern-looking building with a sign on which was painted a bare leg wearing a red garter. "That must be it." Dan and John walked through the door into a reasonable nice establishment with about fifteen tables, almost all of which were still empty, dinner not yet having arrived. Dan chose a corner table for the meeting, not because he particularly cared, but because all clandestine meetings were supposed to happen in poorly lit corner tables, or at least that's what Chris' books had said. The two sat down and waited for service. A brunette bar maid dressed in a short red dress, probablu to match the name of the tavern saw Dan and John and made here way to the table. "What can I get for ya?" she asked. "Ale," said Dan. "Get me some mead," answered John. "Would you like a plate of our roast beef?" "No," answered John. She looked over at Dan but he nooded, "No." "I'll be right back then." Dan watched her walk over to the bar and get the drinks poured by the barkeep, who seemed to carefully measure how much drink he alloted to each glass. As the woman headed back, Dan pulled out four dollars and handed her the coins. "Keep the change." She walked off to check on some more customers. "So what do we do now?" asked John. "Wait for him to come." Dan took a sip of his ale. 1307 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Why?" "Why wait? Because he's going to stop by." John shook his head. "No, why are we doing this. I mean, this is rediculous." "So what should we do?" Dan asked as fiddled with his drink. "Give up this stupid business," answered John, "Things aren't going the way we expected. Even Chris admits it." Dan understood John's point well. Chris had been the main proponent of the adventure scheme and was the one who had infected Dan and John with delusions of heroic grandeur. Now, Chris was refusing to be a part of the three and was loathe even to talk to them. "Ah, but he wasn't the only one who supported this. We all agreed to this." John countered, "Yeah but if it weren't for him we'd never have done it." "Okay, but should we give up the job because of that? Even without Chris we can still finish it?" "How," John said rather than asked. He answered his statement, "We cant finish this even with Chris. Look at what we've got, a geeky guy who hangs around with roos and rats. He gets taken hostage, is dragged into a hidden underground cavern, and thrown into a pit. And of course, the stupid roo kills our only lead. Even if I thought this were a good idea, we're stuck, except for some paranoid factory manager who makes buggy whips." "We've got the diary, too." "You're going to trust that thing? This Mike guy hung around with friggin roos! He was even more whacked than Chris. And you want me to believe the story in his journal?" Dan looked up from his drink. "Well, his sister thinks its true. Even though it's fucked, it's possible. Hell, would you write a fictional diary and then hide it under your dresser?" 1308 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I wouldn't write a diary." "Okay, do you think Mike would? Or even Chris? Even though Chris is never wholly in reality, he knows what it is. He's only trying to avoid it. Maybe that's what Mike was trying to do, but he had more courage than Chris?" "Yeah but if Mike is halluicanting then we're wasting our time." "I don't think he was." "Hold on then. What happens if Mike isn't hallucinating, what then?" John asked, and then promtly answered "He seemed to think that some sort of guild was trying to steal a device from the factory he worked at, probably owned by the Technos. That puts us in the middle of a war between the Technos and either the Thieves' or Wizard's guilds, maybe both. We can't win. Either we're turned into toads or find knives in our backs!" Dan had to admit mid that this was true. "I know." He himself thought the whole caper either silly if only chasing after fiction, or dangerous if true. But, what was the alternative? "Let's say that we drop this case. What do we do then?" " I don' know." "Neither of us is stupid enough to try this again. What'll we do?" Dan asked in earnest. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life hauling sacks around the city." John said nothing. "You won't last too long here either. You become more cynical all of the time and if we don't do this we're stuck here forever!" John finally mustered a counter argument. "It's better than being killed. If you want, we can move to another city or try joining the army. They might let you in this time." "Do you really want to sit around and become like your parents? What have they done! Nothing except bitch and moan about how bad things are, and have kids so
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November 12, 2011 that they can continue the moaning. If we hang around here we'll end up just as bad." John had no response. Just as he had the night before, Dan considered his options. If John and he were to quit the case and return to their former professions tghen Dan would inevitably be forced to follow his father's business; That was all that he knew how to do, move large bags and packages around the city from sunrise to sunset. At first he would be forced to drag a mule behind him, and then as he grew more prosperous he would acquire a horse and cart. His house would inevitably be an apartment someplace near the market square so that he could get an early start on his job to feed his wife and several screaming kids. Was it worth living such an existence, a life more predictable and monotonous than poorly conceived fiction? Not even a third of the way through his life's book and Dan knew not only it's ending, but also the middle and all of the chapters inbetween, albeit he didn't know the specifics of who he'd marry, what clothes he'd wear, or what his address would be. Would anyone read a fiction to whose entirety they were already aware and whose chapters were written in such a monotonous voice that it was painful to read even a page? Of course they would, and millions of them did and will. Should Dan? So the question lay before Dan, should he put down the novel in hand and grab a new one, even at the risk that his new fiction would be even more droll than the previous or that it be only a short story? Yes. If this job were as big as the diary suggested, with powerful guilds plotting against the other, then Dan's life necessarily had two alternative outcomes - death or success. Inevitably success was the better alternative and would result in, at minimum, a payment of ten thousand dollars from Susan, allowing Dan to escape Inviroth and undertake some more interesting business than hauling sacks. Better outcomes included being hired by one of the guilds, or discovering some secret worth a lot of money to one of the competing guilds. That was the best Dan could 1310 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 expect, with all of the other conclusions paling. The worst outcome, of course, was death, but Dan knew that he was going to die even if he didn't escape Inviroth because he knew the ending of his book. Amusingly, Dan thought of a Derek Halfwit quote, "Over a million ways to die and only once chance to do it." Although morose, it did have some relevence. Dan, the owner of a horse, cart, and hauling business would die an old man, so weary of life that he would only see a day as another burden to carry. "John, my life is fucked if I don't get out of here. Yours is too, and you know it. I'm going to finish this job and I'd like you to help." Surprisingly, John said, "Sure, why the hell not." Dan and John sat silently at the table until the still un-named manager came in, watching the crowd increase as people got off of work and made their way to the pub to meet with their friends and enjoy life. Unfortunately, neither Dan nor John were relishing their current experience although they both committed to continue on with it. When the manager did walk in, he scanned the room throuroughly, even after he'd already spotted Dan and John, and only approached Dan's table after he had overlooked everyone else in the inn. Dan wondered why the guy was so paranoid, and if it was just a quirk, or if he had reason to be, and then Dan wondered if he should assume the same kind of paranoia just to be safe. The man walked up to the table, and before speaking anything, picked up a chair and moved it between Dan and John, right in the apex of the corner, and the best spot to watch the door from. "So how are you gentlemen involved with this problem?" the manager asked. Since Dan knew that John wasn't willing to play a part in any of this, he answered, "Mike's sister hired us to find Mike after he'd been kidnapped." "I assume, then, that you found him dead." "Yeah, in a wharehouse west of here. He was in a cavern beneath the wharehouse. The building was abandoned." 1311 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Interesting." "We found four people down there hired to capture and interrogate Mike." "What are there names?" "I don't know, but we did find out that one guy was named Jim Redmond... no... Jim Redlock." The manager's eyebrows darted up at the man's name. "Did you find out who hired them?" "Well," Dan grimmaced, "None of them really survived." "Too bad," the manager said with a sign. "I should have liked to deal with them." "What else can you tell me," said the manager, trying to pull out information. Dan tried to be paranoid. "What can you tell us? We want to know who ordered Mike's death." The manager smiled and folded his hands togther. "Jim Redlock, if that is indeed the name you heard, works for a man named Thadeous Caylan." "Do you know where he lives or works?" "He doesn't usually work," said the manager before cracking his knuckles, "He..." The man liften his head a bit and scanned around the room again. "He's a member of the Wizard's guild." Dan whispered a silent, "Fuck," and then continued his questioning. "Where can we find him?" "Oh, I should say that he lives on Garden Street, not too far from the castle. I don't know the number but you'll be able to find that out."
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November 12, 2011 His paranoia finally turning on, Dan wondered if the manager was telling the truth and why he was even bothering to give Dan some information. "So why are you telling us?" "Mike was a good chap. He deserves retribution." Dan waited for the real answer. "And we... And I have reasons for not liking Mr. Thadeous." "Are there any other reasons?" "Not that I can say." The man opened his mouth and slid his jaw from side to side for a moment. "And, may I ask, what do you plan on doing once you meet Mr. Thadeuos?" "I don't really know yet." Dan was telling the truth. "You realize, of course, that you won't be able to get him arrested. Hmmm?" said the manager, and he rested his chin on his hand, waiting for a response. "You're right about that. I never considered what to do if Mike's murderer were so well placed." The man blinked and said with a smile, "Well, he is." "Maybe we'll just leave him be and give up." Dan's opponent looked frustrated and thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. If... and I say if, he should happen to have an accident in the night, I wouldn't be too sad. Maybe a robery gone wrong or a fall down the stairs. Hmmm?" "Oh?" Dan was surprised at this. "In fact, I happen to have some money floating around." Dan realized that he was being offered blood money, but he wasn't sure how to proceed, or even if he wanted to. 1313 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The man stopped supporting his chin with his fist and covered his mouth with it while he said, "Forty thousand dollars. It's for discrensionary expenses, for security that is." "I see," said Dan. Forty thousand dollars was a lot of money and could get Dan and John anywhere in the empire. Suddenly, the manager stood up. "Well, I've got to be going. Remember, if you're ever decide to join the security business then please stop by and I'll pay you." "We'll do that." The man pushed his chair in and walked out the door. "Shit," said John, "That's a lot of money." "I'll say."
CHAPTER 22: BUGBUG
Several hours after leaving the Red Garter, John reclined on Dan's bed, leaning against the wall with his legs straight in front of him, while Dan sat on his dresser staring blankly out the window. Opposite him was the roo, sitting on one of the chairs which Dan had borrowed from his neighbor. Dan had called a meeting tonight in order to inform Susan Andersen, along with the rat and roo, about what he had found out today from the factory. Of course, the roo had failed to measure time accurately and showed up early, providing Dan and John with an uncommunicative and potentially hostile guest who might, for all John knew, decide to masacre the 1314 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 room's inhabitants with the sword which it wore at its side. Susan hadn't shown up yet and Dan was waiting for her before beginning, so both Dan and John were forced to mutely sit and consider their prediucament. The rat wasn't around either, but John didn't care about that. Since the Ferazi had arrived, about fifteen minutes ago, John had engaged into another staring contest with it and won, several times in fact. The herbivore didn't seem to notice though, nor did it really participate, but perpetually stare blankly at the wall, oblivious to the world in which it hopped. John even took a bread in an attempt to discover its object of attention but could find nothing interesting on the wall where it was staring but a thin crack too insignificant even for a cat to find entertainment with. He had then amused himself by guessing the roo's thoughts but gave up on the topic when a disguising thought about carets came to mind. Meanwhile, Dan imitated the roo and likewise stared blankly at a wall, but at least his eyes shifted around from time. John worried that Dan was getting too serious about unearthing the dead guy's murderer, considering it's solution to be some sort of salvation. Inevitably though, a dead end was lurking around the corner, and the two would be stuck without a clue about where to go next, today's revelation only a lucky hapenstance. John didn't believe that too much could be gained by continuing the job, but as long as he didn't have anything else to do, the adventure provided amusement, just as long as it didn't get too serious. Although Dan was gaining too much hope and losing touch with reality, he would be fine as long as he didn't flip like Chris. Even before the "New Star Adventures" idea, John had always considered Chris to be strange, completely engrossed in his fantasy novels, but he'd never expected Chris to be so completely submerged in his litererary universe that he'd believe himself to be a modern Derek Halfwit (who was himself mental institute material). And even after Chris had acquired grandios dreams, John merely thought that Chris would eventually discover that the world was vastly different from the fairy tales which he read, and Chris' feet would settle back on solid ground. No one could have predicted Chris' mental breakdown at the climax of the chapter, when his own dreams sprouted into reality. John wasn't sure if Chris had floated off in his dreamland, or if he had fallen to earth too quickly. Either way, Chris had freaked out so much that he wouldn't even open the door to see Dan, and John 1315 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 wondered how many times Chris had seen or spoken to his beloved mother in the past few days. You could never tell how people would react when they finally acquired the dreams which they sought. John found it better not to dream, that way he was never disappointed. John returned to the present and continued to size up the roo, hoping that if he stared at it long enough he could force some sort of reaction, even a eye twitch. John stared for about thirty seconds and then the roo actually did something. It blinked, raised its ears, once of them only being a stub, and then looked towards the door. Someone knocked on the door, probably Susan, so Dan slid off of his dresser and opened the door for Susan. The Remozsh, unfortunately, was with her. As soon as the door opened it ran around her and Dan, and jumped onto the bed's edge near John's feet. Susan sat down on a chair at the foot of the bed. The rat likewise sat down, dangling its feet over the bed's side and bouncing occasionally, causing John's end of the bed to jump slightly in syncrony with the rat, annoying John to no end. Dan returned to his perch, and began to speak. "We're all here now. I have..." The Remozsh took a few quick looks around the room and interrupted, "Where's Chris? He isn't here yet." Dan graciously replied, "He won't be coming." John would have ignored the rodent or maybe even kicked it, but he missed the opportinity. "But why not?" whined the rat. Dan lifted his eyebrows slightly. "He's not feeling well." "Buy why?" the rat whined again. John gave him a swift kick, partially to shut him up, but mostly because it would provoke a reaction. "Hey!" blurted Roy as it turned around to discover the culprit. Before Roy could put in a word against John, Dan explained, "Chris didn't like the fight we had underground."
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November 12, 2011 "Ohhh." The rat finally understood. It wasn't very good at catching subtle hints. "I don't blame him." It thought a bit and then added, "I don't like it either, but Shaj..." At that Shaj seemed to take up John's initiative and kicked the bed near Roy, whose head immediately whirled around to but the blame on John but then noticed the Ferazi's retreating foot. Even though he despised the roo, John found its reaction amusing, almost Human even. For the first time that night, the roo spoke to Dan, "Vie meet ve?" The focus returned to Dan. Dan looked perplexed while he desciphered the roo's question. "Why are we meeting? I've called this meeting first off to brush up on what we know so far, and secondly to come up with a plan to find Mike's murderer." Roy was squirmed and opened his mouth again as if to speak so John gave him another tap. Evidently, the distraction made Roy forget what he was going to say since Roy shut his mouth. Dan continued. "A week ago Mike was kidnapped by some thugs who dragged Mike into their underground hideout, probably interrogated him, and then threw him in the pit. Susan discovered Mike missing a few days later and hired us. Because of Roy's knowledge and..." John kicked Roy just to make sure that he wouldn't say anything. "...watches we discovered..." Roy turned around and gave John a nasty look. Finally, a reaction! "... the hideout and attempted a rescue. Unfortunately, not only had Mike been murdered, but all of the thugs were killed, leaving no further clues." John turned his stare towards the roo which had killed their only source of information, and glared at it for several seconds. "We were completely stuck until we found this." Dan pulled out the journal. "It's Mike's diary. Basically, Mike thought that the factory that he worked at was run by the Technology guild. One day he overheard his manager and a stranger talk about rumors of a plot to steal one of the contraptions which were made at the factory. Mike was hoping to get a promotion so he decided to catch the thief himself. He started searching around and found out about the warehouse where we found his body. He had Roy watch it for him."
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November 12, 2011 Roy opened his mouth to talk again, but this time John was too slow and Roy burst out, "But the building had an underground room where they hid, but they didn't know..." The Ferazi kicked the bed again, right near Roy, and broke in, "Know this I. Vut new?" Dan gave a surprised look at this news. The roo knew about this all along but didn't bother telling anyone. It probably also knew who the murderer was but didn't think it important to tell anyone. Stupid roo. "John and I went to talk to Mike's manager today. When we tried to ask him what he knew about this plot be became evasive and wouldn't tell us anything. When we were leaving, though, he told us to meet him in a neighboring pub after work. He showed up and told us a bit more, although he was still keeping a lot back. He wouldn't say what was being stolen or why it was important and only told us that the person behind it was Caylan, a member of the Wizard's Guild." Dan neglected to mention the money which Mike's manager had offered if Caylan were found dead. Dan went on. "That leaves Mike caught in a feud between the Wizard's guild and the Technos. The only lead we have at the moment is Caylan, unless anyone else has any more information which they haven't told us?" Dan looked expectantly and the roo along with everyone else, but the Ferazi sat stoically and spoke nothing. John figured that the roo knew about everything, probably even about the Wizard's guild and would, at some later date, reveal it's knowledge and have a silent chuckle at the stupidity of the humans. But, the Ferazi wasn't talking. John returned his attention to Dan who subsequently began to speak. "Caylan is our only lead then." After a pause, most likely considering how to put forth the ideas which he and John had discussed earlier, Dan continued. "Me and John talked about some possible strategies. The cops won't do anything for us since we don't have the money or proof, and Caylan has a lot of it. That means that we have to deal with the wizard ourselves. The best we could come up with was to break into the wizard's mansion at night and find some sort of document incriminating him or try to force it out of him. We checked out the mansion earlier today; It's got a hedge around it and some guard dogs, but we can get around those with some work. We didn't see any guards and only one chamberlain." 1318 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Does anyone have any better ideas?" Dan asked as he looked around the room. Roy jerked the bed and looked like he was about to talk, but the Remozsh halted and turned his head and shoulders quickly around to face John. John was surprised, the rat had finally learned, and after only about four or five kicks. John gave a malicious smile and wiggled his rat-kicking foot, seeing if the rodent would get the hint. Apparently it did because Roy shut his mouth and then turned back around. John was tempted and wondered if he should kick Roy anyway. Why not. John's foot gave Roy another tap and the Remozsh whirled its heaad around and gave a confused glare, mad at John because of the abuse but uncertain why it happened. Gotcha, John thought. Susan spoke up. "Although Mike was killed, I'd like to thank you for finding him, and though I'd like to arrest or punish his murderer, I can't ask you to do it. This has gotten too dangerous and I wouldn't want any of you to end up like Mike, and I would feel very responsible if you did. You don't have to continue working for me; I'll pay you now and you can leave." Everyone was silent for a minute. Dan spoke up. "It's your money, but you're forgetting about Shashevaj and Roy; They were Mike's friends and they probably won't want to stop looking for Mike's murderer. Do you want them to stop also?" John was interested; How would Dan convince Susan to keep them on the job without letting her onto the forty-thousand dollars which Mike's manager had offered? "But I can't afford anymore and you'll need a lot of money for bribes to get to this wizard." Susan pointed out. John's gaze returned to Roy as the rat looked around at John. What was he up to? Suddenly, Roy pushed himself off the bed as far as possible from both John and Shaj. The rat was learning quicker than John expected; John looked somthing to throw in substitute of a kick, a pillow or dirty shirt. "Hey," interrupted Roy, "I can watch the wizard's house just like I watched the warehouse." John's pillow hit Roy squarely in the head but the rat didn't shut up. "Hey, stop that!" Roy commanded turning to 1319 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 John. After a long glare at the culprit, Roy returned his gaze to Dan. "No one will notice that I'm watching so I can see what happens." Roy stood resolutely in place defending his right to speech. The Ferazi did nothing, as usual. Susan acquired a proud, motherly look on her face because of the rodent's speech -- disgusting. Dan rubbed the stubbled on his chin in thought. Roy's proposition had interested him, probably because it had given him an excuse to stay in. Dan thought for a moment. "That's a good idea. Watching can't do any harm since, as Roy says, no one will notice him. John and I could spend some more time checking things out. We might be able to find something out and take it to the cops; If not then we'd give up finding Mike's murderer." Dan then turned to the Ferazi, "Shashevaj, what d' you think we should do?" The roo did nothing for a moment and then spoke, "I vait." John didn't understand the Ferazi's words at all but he wasn't about to ask it to repeat itself. Neither was Dan. "Okay then, John and I will do some more investigating while Roy watches Caylan's mansion. How does that sound?" asked Dan to Susan. "Sure, but I'm not forcing you into this and I can't pay anymore. I'd like to help you also, so keep me informed." "Will do," said Dan. John considered the situation; He was still running around with a roo and a rat, Dan had become so obsessed by escaping the city that he was going to tackle the Wizards' Guild, and John couldn't figure out why he was in all of this.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 23: BUGBUG
Several days after Dan and John had talked to Mike's manager, Roy sat on one of the many reaching limbs of an ancient oak, his back to the tree's massive trunk and each foot dangling off of its own side of a horizontal branch. He chewed on some more of the sausage which Dan had brought him earlier, took a drink out of the likewisesupplied flask, and looked around at the action and scenery once again. The living structure upon which Roy rested was on the west side of an immense north-south brick road, which was nothing to Roy's tree. It had spent several decades disheveling the bricks which had trampled over the tree's entrenched feet, the forms of the roots causing large ripples in the bricklayer's crafted road. The road, Garden Street, was not so much a fertile strip of road, but an impenetrable pavement running between walls of shrubbery and grandiose trees, behind which stood rainbowed flower gardens surroudning heavy Gothic mansions large enough to be castles. From the road however, not a single garden was visible, protected from prying eyes by the walls of vegitation and savage guard dogs. The great Danes which, with aloof stride, paraded the grounds insuring that no creature larger than a mole would taste the fruits of the garden, leaving the flowers to be enjoyed by the birds, gathering bees, and the mansions' protective owners. Facing south, Roy could see the mason's road reach to the edge of a precipice and then plummet off the edge, along with the trees and bushes. If Roy had not walked up the steep hill, he would have surmised that the remnants of the trees and bricks lay broken at the bottom. But instead of dead-fall, however, Roy could see the southern edge of Inviroth in the hazy distance. Looking from atop the tree, Roy's home was an insignificant strip of brown buildings with pitch roofs bordered by a ribbon-thin wall and mostly obscured by the hill's silhoete. There were no trees visible in the strip of Roy's Inviroth. Beyond was wilderness, the sea, and mountains. 1321 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Behind Roy's back, to the north, Garden Street was diverted and arced to the east into the castle's gate, the fortress of stone which was constructed to protect Inviroth from invaders. It now sat idle while only a few guards, merely specks, walked back and forth upon the battlements trying to look alert and ready for battle even though only storms had attacked the city walls for the last thousand years, and the only enemy ever to siege the castle was the ivy which slowly crept up the walls over the centuries, one of Inviroth's stealthy invaders which was sure of its victory. One tower had already been blasted away by nature and another was already being undermined by the vines. No one seemed to notice. Today, however, Roy was more interested in his knarled perch, finding it almost personable. Before sitting on this oak for several days and nights, Roy had believed people when they had stated that trees weren't alive, but now his awareness was causing doubts; The trunk, the branches, the bark, the leaves, and the knot holes all had a personality which appeared to be guided by some chaotic genius. Except for a few accidents, almost every aspect of the tree had well thought out purpose and direction. The roots of this tree were solid and firmly implanted into the soil, their only goal to sustain the rest of the body, and perhaps to trip any transient humans below. From these rose a fairly straight trunk for about one meter, clothed in convoluted bark, after which the straight path became obscured to the onlooker and the designed took a drunken course, even going to far as to split the gigantic pillar into two contrary branches. These, in their pre-ordained quest for the sky, likewise spawned progeny and produced an entangled sculpture of gnarled branches which were forever retreating away from their origin and towards the sky. Roy wondered if, had the great trunk not originally been split asunder, the unified branches have ever reached the dome of the sky rather than spreading out disap\pointingly in failure. Every branch had a group of transitory leaves to be abandoned in the fall, but which now waged shadowy war on their cousin-branch's colony of leaves. Only the very highest leaves acquired all of the sun which they wished, but theirs was a precarious position as new branches were always working higher, ready to foliate at any opportunity. Those leaves cought beneath the shadow of their betters had to satisfy themselves with the occasional ray of light missed by those in elevated positions, and if a leaf couldn't acquire enough light for the tree, it was merely thrown out and allowed to die as it fell towards the ground. The tree's structure was all about the 1322 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 quest for the sun, one which Roy didn't participate with, for he sat on one of the lower branches and enjoyed the higher ones' shade. The branch upon which Roy sat was the lowest one, already presumed a loss, and subsequently not subject to the malice of higher leaves. However, the limb was poised slightly over the neighboring mansion's hedge fence and Roy's menial presence was a threat to the hounds which roamed below. On Roy's first day, his the canine watchers were the Remozsh's constant companion, at first attempting to leap into the tree, but eventually resigning themselves to the more passive entertainments of imagination, hoping that Roy would fall and provide them some entertainment. After a few days they didn't even bother to sit and wait for Roy to fall onto their side but wandered off to their usual beats, only occasionally diverting to verify Roy's presence. At the moment, Roy could see the guardians at the far side of the property, just beyond the mansion and the flower garden, sniffing about for another rodent which had trespassed. Roy finished his sausage and wiped his hands on his shirt. He took a drink and then capped up the flagon. On the other side of the road was the wizard's mansion, having its complimentary thorn-hedge, dogs, garden, and mansion just like the others on the street. Roy was disappointed because the wizard's abode did not include any spiraling towers with burning fires nor an immense moat with crocodiles idly swimming around and looking for dinner. Instead, it was a typical mansion, a sandstone structure with a large rectangular manor speckled with windows and addendum rooms protruding from the design. This building even had curtains in the windows, something which Roy considered to be totally un-wizardly; They were supposed to be bare and fortified with bars, perhaps even highlighted by a Rapunzel weeping behind the irons. The building was a boring environment for a wizard and for a Remozsh. Over the past few days, Roy had seen nothing except the dogs parading, the one servant running errands, and Caylan's lunch-time ceremony of eating outside with his servant standing behind him. Roy had even followed the servant a few times when he left to do chorses outside of the mansion, but inevitably the man's destination was the market. Caylan never left and no one ever visited providing for a very boring 1323 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 existence which was below par for a supposed sorcere. The mansion didn't even look like it had a dungeon filled with torture chambers and cells for the magician's prisoners and beasts. The thought of an underground torture chamber brought Roy's mind to thinking about Shaj. Roy wondered if the Ferazi used their underground dwellings for magic, but didn't think so. Shaj didn't seem like the kind of person to use necromancy or to be sitting over a boiling cauldron of magic stew, but of course, neither did "Wizard" Caylan. What if the wizard was using one of the old Ferazi homes underneath the city, just like the one Shaj found? What would Shaj do if he found out? Roy didn't know, nor could he even begin to guess, not ever having a "home" which he could call his own, or ever caring if he did. As Roy saw it, houses had two purposes, nighttime quarters for sleeping protected of the rain and snow, and a storage room for all of the objects which people own. Roy, not having any possessions, didn't have much of a need for storage, and as for sleeping, on frigid or rainy nights he'd sleep at work or walk around shivering until morning. Mike's need for a house was understandable because Mike had a shelf-load of heavy books and wasn't allowed to stay in the factory past sun-down. Likewise, Roy understood Dan, John, Chris, and Susan, because they all had too many posessions to carry around. But, why did Ferazi need homes, especially ones constructed underground? Shaj didn't have many possessions, just a few clothes, armor, and his sword, and he could sleep where he worked. Well, maybe not, thought Roy. Where did Shaj work? The Ferazi had never talked about it, nor did Mike know what Shaj did. Maybe no-one would hire the Ferazi, requiring Shaj to have a home. But, this still didn't answer why Ferazi lived underground. When Roy was down there it was cold, hard to breathe, dark, and he was continually afraid of subterranean monsters leaping out from the shadows. It was far beyond Roy to comprehend how anyone could live so close to such nefarious monsters. Roy couldn't figure it out. Roy pondered the complexities of life some more and asked another question. Shaj claimed that there were no monsters and that it was safe underground, more so than above. Why had Roy's mother taught him the contrary? All of the other Remozsh 1324 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 which Roy knew had been told similar stories. However, Mike wasn't afraid of the underground and his mother didn't give him any admonitions about it. Mike had even said that Derek Halfstar explored the under-world and was perfectly safe. Whenever Roy thought about the subject, perhaps because of all of the stories told to him while he was still small, he began to imagine the monsters underground. He could imagine some clawed arm working its way towards the surface, towards the roots of Roy's tree... which it would pull underground! Roy tried to change the subject. Instead of monsters and wizards, Roy pondered Chris, who seemed like a nice guy just like Mike, although much quieter and more reserved; He even had hoards of books lined up along his shelves. Roy, however, was disturbed by Chris' disappearance from the group, which Dan had attributed to that night in the warehouse. What had happened down there? Dan had told Roy of the battle, and Shaj implied the same, but why had Chris changed after he returned from the underground? After all, Roy himself had even braved the ladder and returned back. But maybe Chris saw something down there which he didn't tell the others, or maybe Dan was keeping some sort of secret, or maybe the monsters had taken a dislike for Chris and chased him down when he was alone. Roy felt himself being dragged back to the monster subject but was unable to escape the thought's grasp. What if the same monster were to seek out Roy? What then? Roy imagined himself sitting in the tree until the sun set and dusk fell behind the jagged mountains, the same as he had done the past two nights. The tree, which had been asleep all day, would begin swaying in the evening wind but it wouldn't be the gusts which shook the branches, but the tree's own living motion, revealed by accentuated shaking and creaking exceeding the capacity of the evening breeze. Roy would be terrified, unable to climb down because of the swaying of the great trunk, and afraid to jump the distance, which had become even greater at the onset of the tree's animations and the retreat of the sun. Cold, dew-covered branches would scratch him as they waved in the ficticious wind, maybe even trying to grab the writing Remozsh. Perhaps a wooden hand would grab his arm or leg and Roy would shriek as loud as he could, only to be muffled by the oak's own groaning and grating.
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November 12, 2011 Lightning flashed in the blackened night exposing the tree's bony malevolence. Roy grabbed the branches which held him and extracted them from his arm, stood up, and surveyed the ground. The swaying limb upon which he balanced was at least five meters off the ground, much higher than it had been in the daylight. Suddenly, a vine wrapped around his neck but Roy broke free and dodged away from its further attempts. More lightning and Roy spotted the hedge only a few meters below him, the closest place to jump to, and his only chance. He would jump to it, climb down, and escape, but as he leapt another tendril grabbed him by the leg and flung him off course, landing Roy head-first into the thorns. Before he fell, Roy grabbed the branches of the spiky hedge and held on while the branch around his leg pulled him upward, but just when Roy's arms were fully out-stretched and the hedge branches were straining he heard a snap. His leg was released, and Roy flopped stomach first into the prickly bush. Another lightning flashed but all Roy saw were leaves. And then the rain started with a whoosh and sudden downpour. Quickly, Roy shuffled down the hedge, thorns impaling his hands and feet at every step. Something grabbed his arm but he pulled away from it, and then something grabbed onto the other arm. Lighting flashed. Roy saw the branches turned into bony arms and hands with long thorny fingernails. He jumped backwards, not worrying about the harrowing fall, but his feet, just as they were pushing off, were grabbed. Roy's knees bent and his back hit the hedge. Before he could react, Roy's flailing arms were harnessed by some more hands and another limb grabbed his head. Roy, struggling, was slowly lowered towards the ground as he was passed from hand to hand, but a pit opened up just where he was to land and the limbs continued to deliver him into the abyss. More lightning and Roy saw the hole's mouth above him. He screamed. "Hey wake up Roy." Roy looked up and around, the monstrous landscape fading into late afternoon. Roy had dozed off on the tree and was just on the verge of falling. "Roy! Down here," said Ted. Roy looked down. "Oh, hi Ted." "What're ya doin. Yer not s'posed t' fall asleep in a tree!" 1326 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Yeah I know, but I couldn't help it. I was just thinking." "More like jest askin questions t' yerself I bet," said Ted. "Well, how's the watchin goin' this time? Has anything excitin happened since ya followed tha butler?" "No. This guy is boring. I don't even think he's a wizard since he doesn't do anything. I told Dan but he just told me to keep watching. I mean, this guy doesn't even have any towers or guards." "You've been listen'in t' too many stories Roy. Sorcerers don't need guards or towers since they have demons protectin' them. One of them things is worth ten guards. I bet that it's only tha Wizard and his butler living in that big mansion." "Oh," answered the amazed Roy, and he continued with another question. "I haven't even seen the guy do any magic. He just comes out for lunch and eats. He's inside all day and hasn't gone anywhere yet. What d'you suppose he does?" "That's simple. He doesn't stay in his house. He uses magic t' transform himself and leaves with you noticin'." "Huh?" "He changes himself inta a bird or somthin and you don't even know it's him. He jest flies away." "But how can he do that?" Ted, frustrated by Roy, tried to explain, "Don't ya understand? Wizard's know lots've magic. They can do stuff like turn themselves inta animals." "Oh," answered Roy. "D' you think he could turn me into an animal also?" "Sure he can. Heck, he'd probably turn ya into a newt." Roy shivered and his eyes opened in amazement. "Oh... but what's a newt?"
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November 12, 2011 "I don't know, just some sort 've animal which Wizard's turn people inta. Ev'n if he didn't do that, there'z lots 've other bad stuff he could do. You could be hexed, or put in his dungeon, or..." Ted thought a moment, "Or be fed ta his wolves." "Wow," was the only response Roy could give in reply to the roster of ways in which the Wizard could do him harm. Even though Roy was obviously worried and disturbed, Ted continued, "Hmmm, he might just use you for one've his experiments, but I doubt it. He doesn't care nothin' for us and doesn't even know yer here watchin' him. Don't worry, he won't get 'cha." "Good, because I don't wanna be a newt." "By the way Roy, are you gonna stay up there all day. My neck's gettin sore." "Sorry, but Dan told me that I've gotta stay here and watch. Why don't you come up? From up here you can see everything." Ted thought a moment. "Sure, I haven't been in a tree like this before. How do I get up?" "You see these bushes, just climb up to the top of them." Ted walked over to the bushes and was about to grab hold of them when he noticed the thorns. "Hey, there's prickers all over these. D'you expect me to climb up this?" "Yeah, they don't hurt that much if you go slowly." "No way Roy, I'm not climbing no thorn-bush. Don't ya have a rope or somethin?" "Nope." "Well I'm not climbing these and I'm not gonna talk to ya in that tree. I'll find less painful entertainment elsewhere. See ya tomorrow." Ted waved goodbye and started to walk away. "Ok then, bye," and Roy waved as Ted left.
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November 12, 2011 As Ted walked away south down the deserted street Roy noticed three thug-looking humans start running towards Ted. Roy hadn't seen where they came from because he was just sleeping and subsequently engrossed in his conversation with Ted. Roy watched for a few seconds, and when Roy was certain that the two were aimed for his friend he yelled, "Hey Ted! Look out!" At that Ted stopped and spun around, and seeing the pursuants he bolted in the same direction he had been going. One of the thugs picked up speed and chased the Remozsh around a corner beyond Roy's sight. The other two slowed their pace and came towards Roy's tree. As soon as he noticed this, Roy stood up and prepared to climb down since it was too far to jump, but he didn't have time; They'd be at the foot of the tree before Roy got down. Roy took a few seconds to scan the street to see if there was any help on its way, but it was fairly empty and the few people who were passing seemed disinterested. Ted had turned a corner and couldn't be seen. Roy tried to decide upon as escape. He couldn't jump down because he would break his leg or sprain an ankle, making running impossible. If he were to climb down the bush he'd be captured right away. He could scream for help, but there were no Remozsh around and no Humans would listen. What else could Roy do? He could climb higher and wait till help did arrive. If Ted escaped he'd get help and be back within two hours. Roy climbed higher onto a smaller limb as far away as possible from the street. A few moments later the two thugs reached the base of the tree and looked up at Roy, who until then could only see that one had jet-black hair and the other a sandy brown. Both were wearing the usual clothes, including boots, blue pants, and a dingy white shirt. The black-haired one had a bag with something in it draped over his shoulder. The two looked at each other. The black-haired one whispered to the other, "So what do we do now?" He either didn't think that Roy was listening or assumed that Roy couldn't hear. "I don' know. Climb up the tree," whispered back the sandy-haired one. "Well then climb it." 1329 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "No way man. Even if I could get up there the little shit would just go higher." The black-haired thug raised his voice a bit. "Fuck! So here we chased him into a tree and have no way to get him down." "Yeh, it looks like it. We really screwed up." "No, no, no. YOU fucked up. I'm gonna shoot him." Roy didn't like the sound of that and climbed a bit higher. "No man, we're not supposed to do that." "Okay bright boy, if we don't shoot him, what the fuck do we do?" The lighter-haired one though awhile. "Hey, I've got an idea. We'll just pretend to be nice and ask it down. It's stupid." "Won't work," answered the black-haired guy and he emphasized it with a nod. "Sure it will. Just watch." Both of them turned to look back at Roy with smiling faces. The sandy-haired thug spoke up to Roy, "Come on down little rat," and then had an after thought. "We have some candy for ya." Roy was terrified but answered anyway. "Uh uh. I'm not coming down." "See I told you it wouldn't work," whispered the black-haired one to the other. He replied with another whisper, "Just wait man. I'm not done yet," and the returned his conversation to Roy. "Look, we're not gonna hurt ya. We just wanna talk, so come on down and you'll get some free candy." He turned to his companion and whispered, "Just wait man. It'll be down now." Roy climbed even higher and answered. "Go away. I'm not coming down."
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November 12, 2011 The black-haired one yelled in a whisper at his friend. "The little shit is smarter than you are. I told ya it wouldn't work. Now I'm gonna fuck him good." He started to open his bag. "No man. Don't do that. We don't want it dead." "It's better dead than not at all. I'll aim for a leg or somethin." The bag fell down and the black-haired thug pulled out a crossbow. Roy tried to think of another way to escape. "Ok man, but remember that I had no part in this." "Okay, okay," answered the man with the crossbow. He pulled a bolt out of the bag, gripped it in his teeth, and proceeded to cock the crossbow. Roy couldn't stay around anymore. It was useless to climb higher. He had to jump. The ground was too far away but the hedge was only a meter or two below. Not worrying about the prickers below because he had a crossbow being aimed at him, Roy jumped down to the bush and landed on top, stomach first, letting the branches slow his fall. On impact he felt the up-pointing branches poke his body in at least twenty different spots. These were assisted by hundreds of prickers which dug into his skin. Roy painfully climbed down the west side of the hedge on the opposite side of the thugs, thorns embedding in his hands and feet with every rapidly-placed handhold. When he got halfway down he gave up and just fell, anticipating that one hit on the ground would hurt less hundreds of thorns. Roy was correct, finding the fall significantly less painful, but had his breath knocked out of him when he landed. On the other side of the hedge Roy could hear the sandy-haired man yelling at his companion, "Man, you fucked up good! Now we have ta climb this bush and get 'im." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. He would have done the same fuckin thing if we'd have waited. You go first, I have ta pack this fucker away." "Oh man," complained the thug as he began climbing. The bush rustled and then Roy heard, "This thing is full of prickers!" 1331 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Just climb it," commanded the dark-haired guy. "Fuckin job. It aint worth this much money." There was more rustling along with the occasional expletive of "Fuck!", "Shit!", or "Damn!" as the thug climbed up. Roy forced himself up and ran towards the opposite hedge-wall about one hundred meters away. Roy ran as hard as he could, over neatly cut grass, stone pathways, and through a large flower garden with benches symmetrically placed along the pathway. The stone path veered in the wrong direction about the middle of the garden and the Remozsh was forced to tramp through the neatly arranged beds of flowers. Just about this time, when Roy was half way across the yard, Roy heard the thugs, "There's the shit over there." This just made him run all the harder, although he was already out of breath and slowing down. Another thirty meters and Roy heard the men tramping through the garden though he didn't dare to look back. Just then he also heard several other pursuants join the chase, the hounds had found the intruders and started barking as they ran to catch up with them. One of the two thugs yelled, "Shit! The dogs are right behind us!" In another minute Roy reached the western hedge-wall and stared up at it in fear. Roy's hands, legs, and feet were full of thorns already and weren't eager for more. Rather than suffering more prickers, Roy crawled through the dense underbrush at a slow and painful pace, since thorn branches also littered the ground, but he reached the other side after beiung made an honorary thorn bush himself. Every part of his body had thorns protruding from it. Roy got up and then glanced at the street he was on, took a left and then a right at the first obscure alley. This lead to a dead end too high for Roy to climb so the Remozsh looked around for a place to hide and found some garbage cans against the wall. He climbed onto one, opened another's lid, and then jumped in it. With as much dexterity as he could manage, Roy slid the lid onto the can in which he was hiding. There Roy waited.
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November 12, 2011 A few very-long minutes later Roy heard some talking at the mouth of the alley and then some people walking in. To Roy it seemed as though the feet were walking as slow as possible, dragging out the anticipation. Were they the feet of his pursuers? Roy didn't know, but even if they were, there was nothing he could do except hide, so he waited and listened as the footsteps approached the alley's end and stopped right next to his garbage can. There was silence. The lid was lifted. "Gotcha fucker," said the black haired man, A hand reached in and grabbed his shirt collar. Roy fainted.
CHAPTER 24: BUGBUG
Dan awoke from his dream when someone knocked on the door. Dan got out of his bed, navigated around the pitch black room, and headed for the door, barely visible from the light entering the window. The knocking repeated, this time louder and more frenzied. Dan unlatched the door and opened it because it was dark outside. The air was chilly, and being an hour before sun-rise a few stars twinkled alone in the sky abandonded by their dimmer relatives. No one was outside.
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November 12, 2011 Someone must be there since he had just heard knocking on the door. Dan looked around again just to make sure that no one was staring outside and noticed the shadow of a Remozsh as it slipped by Dan and into the room, probably Roy. What was he doing at this hour? Had something important happened? Before Dan turned around to face Roy, now in the apartment, he heard him say, "Come on. Hurry up. Roy's 'n trouble." It didn't sound like Roy's voice, especially since Roy never talked about himself in the third person. "Huh?" asked Dan sleepily. He still wasn't completely awake and his brain was numb. Maybe this was a dream. The voice quickly answered back. "Roy's been captured by some thugs! I saw them take him away." So what was Roy doing, stealing food? He shouldn't be doing that because Dan had been feeding him over the past few days. What else could he have done? Dan couldn't think of anything at this hour. Rather than bending his mind further, Dan searched for his lamp and lit it, the light reflecting off of two squinting rodent's eyes peering at Dan from the bed area. The visitor then moved forward, allowing Dan to see more than his eyes; He was a Remozsh aright, but one which Dan hadn't seen before. "What're ya standin there fer. Get a weapon so tha' we can rescue Roy." Why did he need a weapon? Dan wished that his brain would wake up faster so that he would know what to ask. He did manage to think of something though, "Why?" "'Cause Roy's taken prisoner by tha wizard!" The Remozsh started rummaging around the room, opening and closing drawers. Why? Wake up. What's the next question? "Who are you?" "Oh, I'm Ted," answered the Remozsh. "Where's your sword?" Dan could answer this one, even in his numbed state. "It's under the bed."
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November 12, 2011 Ted squatted down and crawled underneath the bed. "Where did this happen?" Dan's brain was finally thawing. A muffled answer came from underneath the bed. "By the wizard's mansion. Do ya want yer armor also?" There was some dragging, probably the sword, and Ted's tail appeared from underneath the bed. The sword went sliding out from under the bed, and then the rest of Ted emerged dragging the armor and shield. "So what happened?" asked Dan. "I already told ya. Roy was captured." "Yeah, I know." Dan rubbed his eyes. "So what happened exactly?" "Oh, me and Roy were talking when three guys came runnin' towards us. I took off but Roy couldn't go nowhere 'cause he was in tha tree. One of tha guys chased me but I lost him and when I came back ta find Roy I saw him bein' taken inta tha wizard's place." This sounded serious, enough even to wake Dan up some more. Dan double checked. "Do you mean that Caylan had Roy captured?" "Yeah, the wizard did. Come on. Put yer armor on." Ted lifted the armor up part-way. This was a problem, one which Dan didn't exactly want to face, especially this early in the morning. Dan wished that he had Chris here to help him think things through. He could go to Chris' house now and talk to him but Chris would likely be as catatonic as he was before. It wouldn't do any good. "Come on. What're ya waitin for," badgered Ted, trying to pull Dan out the door. "Just wait. I've gotta think about this." Dan sat down on his dresser. Ted lept up beside him. Dan could get John and ask him but inevitably Dan wouldn't get any kind of opinion from him except for some sarcasm. John would probably even be happy that Roy was captured. The Ferazi was definitely out of the question since Dan had never gotten 1335 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 more than three words from him and had never heard an opinion or advice. That left Susan. Could Dan get any advice from her? Maybe. But, could Dan, as a hired "expert", approach her asking for help? She had offered to do so, but was it professional for Dan to ask her to do so? Dan didn't think so. Dan had to make the decision himself, without the aid of anyone else. That sucked. But, being so forced, he attempted to methodically consider the alternatives. The first possibility was Ted's, to charge into the Wizard's mansion, fight through at least three henchmen, several dogs, one butler, and one wizard to find Roy. The dogs would be no problem since Dan would be armored and wielding a sword. The three men could be a problem since they would have weapons whcih they were trained to use. Were they armed? Needing an answer Dan turned to Ted. "Were the men armed?" "Naw" If they weren't armed then he would survive, but even if they had clubs he would be in trouble, and weapons were bound to be scattered about the mansion. The butler wouldn't fight, although he might scream for the police, which wouldn't be near enough to hear. The wizard might cause problems, but Dan didn't know enough about their magic, or if they even had any. Stories related that the wizards had sorceries, but neither Dan nor anyone he knew had ever seen any demonstrated. Dan's opinion had always assumed that the guild maintained its power with wellplaced hoaxes, in which case the wizard would only be cabale of pulling out a few card tricks or a roo (the small fluffy kind) from his hat. Assuming armed men and an huge mansion, Dan didn't have a chance. If he got John and the Ferazi together they would be cabale of handling the known odds, only three of the enemy being capable fighters. Was this the best solution? Dan could contact the police and plead his case. Inevitably they would be insensitive to the plight of a rat allegedly taken prisoner by a wealthy member of the Wizard's guild. Hell, they wouldn't even do anything if a human were taken prisoner. Additionally, the police would want to know who the witness was and as soon as Dan said that their witness was another rat, they'd walk away. Dan might be able to get away claiming that he witnessed the event though. 1336 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What else was there? Were there non-violent solutions? Maybe Caylan would sell Roy's freedom. Although Dan didn't think he had any kind of funds which would be significant to enough to pay off the wizard, they might be enough to put the wizard in a better mood. But, this plan assumed that the wizard didn't suspect that Roy was spying on the wizard. Maybe Roy was merely walking too close to the mage's property or being a nuisance. Dan checked this out. "What were you and Roy doing when the men approached you?" "Nothin. We were just talkin." "Where?" "Roy was 'n tha tree and I was on tha ground." The tree was across the street from the wizard's mansion, not close enough to evoke any response from the wizard, maybe from the sorcerer's neighbor, but not from Caylan. He must have noticed Roy watching and gotten curious. That meant that Roy was captured to get information and would perhaps even be killed. No amount of bribe would pay off Roy. What else could Dan do? Dan could sneak into the mansion and search through it to find Roy. This wasn't a likely scenario because of the barking guard dogs, a large mansion to search through, and who-knows-how-many people patrolling the insides. Dan tried to find another idea. The wizard might just release Roy aftger a few days. Again, this wasn't too likely since Caylan knew that Roy was watching and he'd want to know why. Unless the mage were idiotic enough to believe that Roy were sitting up in a tree for three days just for fun, Roy would never be let out. Of course, Dan could always abandon Roy and leave Inviroth. That might provide some immediate gratification, but he wouldn't have enough money to get anywhere and would feel guilty about leaving the Remozsh. John, on the other hand, would feel perfectly fine leaving Roy. Dan, however, had to face the problem.
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November 12, 2011 Where there any other solutions? Dan thought for a minute or two mroe but couldn't think of any other ideas. Unable to produce any more decisions, Dan reflected on the ones apparent. None of them were very likely to release Roy so Dan isolated the safest alternative with the highest chance of success, and decided that he would try to pay for Roy's release. Perhaps Dan would be able to convince the wizard that Roy was some sort of servant who had been rudely sitting outside the wizard's house for a few days. So, why would Roy be perched on a tree staring at Caylan's house, besides the obvious reason of watching it? Sightseeing? No. Boredom? No. Relaxation? Run away? Bird watching? No. Just because Roy was a Remozsh? Yes. Dan could pass over the reason by merely saying that Roy was a Remozsh and prone to doing strange things. It might work. Dan finally spoke. "C'mon, lets go get Roy." "Sure, but d'ya have an extra sword for me?" It took a second for Dan to fathom why Ted wanted a sword. "No. I'm not going to attack the wizard. I'm gonna try to convince him to let Roy go; Tell him that Roy is crazy or something." "Okay, gotcha." With that settled, Dan walked to the door, followed Ted out, and closed the door behind himself. By this time, the sun was just rising to another day. Most people would be practicing their normal routine, every day being the same as the previous, and every day as safe as the previous. Dan wondered if he were crazy for leaving his apartment and visiting a wizard who, if he wished, could murder Dan in anonymity. All that Dan had to do to escape was open the door, walk in, and go back to sleep. With the aid of a few warm blankets he'd be quickly dreaming of some soothing world, warm, comfortable, predictable, and safe. By leaving the security of his apartment he was casting his die, hoping that he'd win, but perhaps ending up more miserable than he began. Was is worth it? Dan enjoyed the sun for another moment before he trekked off to Garden Street.
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November 12, 2011 Only the late-night stragglers and the timely merchants were about in the quiet city. Feeling alone and exposed, walking through empty streets with only a rat, Dan detoured from his planned path and walked to John's apartment a few doors down. He knocked on John's door, and again after a minute of silence. After the third time Dan heard someone grumble, some sheets swish, and footsteps walk towards the door. John, sleepy and disgruntled, opened the door. He squinted at Dan for a moment and then looked down at Ted, who he promptly ignored. John stared at Dan without saying a word. The question was obvious enough. "Sorry to wake you but it's pretty important." Hopefully that would appease John. John's eyes jumped down to Ted for a second and then returned to his more significant partner. "Another rat? Isn't one enough," John stated sleepily. "Look, this is serious." Dan decided that one day he'd have to stop John's attitude problem. "Roy was captured by Caylan while watching his house. We have to get Roy back; Not only was he working for us, but if Roy talks we're in trouble." John had an odd look on his face which Dan couldn't fully identify. It was either surprise or seriousness. "And I was just starting to like that rat," answered John sarcastically. Dan ignored the statement. "We're going to Caylan's mansion and I'm gonna try to bargain for Roy. Get yer clothes on so we can go." John's eyes wandered as he thought for a moment. "Okay, just a minute." In the promised time John put on some pants and a shirt. "So what's your plan?" "I'll explain on the way." John walked outside and Dan politely closed the door behind John before taking the lead and heading towards Garden Street. The sun was just above the horizon now and illuminated some of the gables. As they walked Dan answered John's question.
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November 12, 2011 "I'm gonna knock on his door and ask for Roy back, making up some sort of excuse if necessary. I've also got money in case a bribe is needed." After a moment of silence John asked, "So what'm I supposed to do?" "Nothing. You're here for moral support; I'm not too excited about facing the wizard alone." John said nothing. After half an hour the group reached Garden street and began to climb up the hill. Dan still didn't have any firm way to convince Caylan to let Roy go. He hoped that the wizard didn't suspect that he was being watched by the Remozsh but only considered Roy a nuisance. Dan would be able to get the Remozsh off easily then since the wizard wouldn't have much use in keeping him. But what if the wizard had seen Dan delivering food to Roy? Dan might himself be captured. Or, what if the wizard hadn't suspected anything, and was merely annoyed by the persistent rat, and then Dan shows up asking for him? Wouldn't Caylan get suspicious? How would Dan be able to answer his questions? Dan worked up some solutions. He figured out why he brought John along; John would wait a short distance from the wizard's mansion. If Dan didn't return in time then John would know that something bad had happened and that he should run for help. But who? Perhaps Shashevaj, if John would "lower" himself to talk the Ferazi. Susan would also be a good choice although she wouldn't be able to do much, but then again, neither would an angry Ferazi. Dan had the first problem solved. If the wizard grew suspicious what could Dan do? Dan didn't have the lying ability necessary to talk his way out, but he'd have to quell the wizard's mistrust anyhow. What would be the best way to do that? If Roy were really just another Remozsh what would Dan do? Leave. So, if Caylan started asking too many questions Dan would just walk away and say that the rat wasn't worth that much. But how would that solve the problem of Roy's captivity? It would probably keep Dan from being killed, and it might even work. Caylan would let Roy go if he weren't useful. Right?
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November 12, 2011 What if Dan's visit permanently ruined Roy's chances of freedom? Dan wondered if he should just wait a few days to see if Caylan released Roy out of boredom. Maybe Roy was free already and wandering around the city having a fun time and not even thinking of stopping by Dan's. Dan hoped so but he didn't believe so. Why not? Because Caylan was intelligent and would question Roy's spying. This left Dan back at an indecision, so he stopped thinking. A little while later the group neared the wizard's house. Dan told Ted and John that he would go see the wizard alone, and that they should wait for up to an hour for him, and if he didn't come back they should get the police. Dan then continued onto the wizard's front gate. It was a tall iron gate with sharpened spikes at the top and a large lock to hold it closed. To either side were the same impenetrable three meter hedges used by every mansion. On Dan's side to the right of the gate was a post, something like a hangman's, with a brass bell suspended from it. Not seeing anyone around, Dan rang the bell and hoped that it would draw some attention. It did, for as soon as the bell had chimed, three barking hounds ran for the gate and took up positions for its protection, standing right on the other side and growling at Dan, who wasn't sure if the gate was meant to keep him out or the dogs in. About a minute later, a butler-looking person emerged from the mansion and snobbishly strolled up the brick road towards the gate, in no hurry to reach Dan. When the servant finally reached the gate he patted one of the dogs on the head, and rather than open the gate hospitably, he began to cross-examine Dan. "Good day sir," said the butler as he surveyed Dan's clothing. "Who might you be?" Even though worded politely the servant's tone was condescending. Should Dan give a name? No, it wouldn't be safe to have an angry wizard knowing his name. A face was bad enough. Dan avoided the question. "I heard that Wizard Caylan... " Dan searched for a good word, "...acquired a Remozsh yesterday. I'm interested in getting him back."
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November 12, 2011 The butler took his time to respond. "Yes," he sneered, "I see that everyone must have their servant. I will get the Wizard." At that, the servant walked away at his unhurried pace and returned into the mansion. The dogs remained behind in order to make sure that Dan didn't try to climb the gate. Dan stood outside pondering what explanation he would give and wondering if he was granted audience too quickly, considering the elitist personalities involved. But, after about five minutes, that train of thought ended as "Wizaard" Caylan walked out of the mansion. He was tall, very erect, and unlike the servant, walked quickly, almost with a mechanical stride. Throughout his entire walk from building to gate, Caylan's hands hung immobile by his side, head kept erect, and his back remained perfectly straight. If his legs did not move as he walked, the wizard would have looked like a stationary guard. Dan noticed the man's clothing, expensive and formal, but nothing like the standard wizard's garb which he had expected; Perhaps his flowing robes with stars and moons were only for his contrived ceremonies meant to awe noble spectators into submission. Just before the wizard reached speaking distance Dan noticed the man's greasy red hair and spiteful face, and knew that the conversation wouldn't go so well, especially since Roy wasn't tagging along by Caylan's side. "Yes?" was the wizard's greeting. He seemed to look Dan over also. "I heard that you acquired..." The wizard smiled slightly when Dan used the nonthreatening term. "...a Remozsh yesterday. I'm interested in getting him released." The smile widened and the mage gave a sarcastic answer, "Oh, and you expect me to give him to you?" His smile stopped. Dan's pre-planned statement just became obsolete because the Wizard suspected too much, so Dan dropped it and made something up. "He did errands for me." "Then what was he doing in a tree for three days?" Dan was being played with but he decided to go on. "I haven't the faintest idea. He disappeared several days ago and I've been looking for him so that I can put him back
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November 12, 2011 to work. One of his friends finally told me after you... found him." Another smile from the wizard. "Oh, you're a xenophile then," the wizard stated. Not knowing what xenophile meant, Dan ignored the wizard's statement and started to heap more shit on his story. "Rats are strange things you know." "Yes the are. Why don't you just get a new one?" The wizard wasn't fooled and was still playing. "Well," Dan thought for a moment, "I'd like to but he knew all the routs." The wizard smiled as he thought momentarily. "I'm not interested," stated Caylan and he started to turn away. "I'll pay." Caylan stopped, smiled, and looked back at Dan. "How much?" "A thousand dollars." "My shirt costs that much. You'll have to do better." The wizard turned and walked back without any polite goodbyes. Dan watched him as he stiffly marched away and wondered what kind of rod he had up his ass. Dan gave up and left when the wizard went inside, disappointing the dogs which were still waiting at the gate as Dan walked away. The first thing that Dan said when he reached the other two was, "He's onto us." He continued on towards home without stopping, leaving it up to John and Ted to catch the meaning and follow. "So how do we get Roy back?" asked John. That was the first time Dan had ever heard John call Roy by his name. "I don' know. We'll have to check with Susan and Shaj."
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November 12, 2011 "Maybe we should give up." "Nope. We need to get out of here." Ted suddenly jumped into the conversation. "Ya can't quit. Whose gonna get Roy out?" Since John didn't answer, Dan felt it his responsibility. "We're not quitting. We'll figure out a way to get Roy." Dan was trying to just that, rehashing his previous list of possibilities and eliminating those which were tried and those which were eliminated by his failed meeting with Caylan. Ted proffered a solution. "We could sneak in at night. Those dogs aren't that hard t' evade." As he did so the Remozsh looked back at the receding mansion. "I've been thinking of that, but it's..." Ted interrupted before Dan could finish. "We're being followed." "What?" "One of the guys who got Roy is following us." John started to look around but stopped when Dan hit him. "Don't look! He'll know we're on to him if we stare." Then, turning to Ted, Dan asked, "What does he look like?" "He's got black hair." At the next opportunity Dan pretended to look at some wares along the street but stole a few glances back, but the street behind him contained several people with black hair. He then led the group around a corner, through an alley, and into another street. A little further along Dan stopped to examine a woman's vegetables and glanced back for a familiar face with black hair a few stalls behind them. Dan bought some carrots and continued on. "Does he have a silver chain around his neck?" 1344 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Yep," answered Ted. "Okay then, we're being followed. Let's split up and try to lose him; He can't follow all of us." "What if he captures one of us?" asked Ted. "Hmmm. He won't get John or me. How about if you keep up with me. John can take a different route. We can meet at John's place in three hours. Okay?" "Sure." At that John took a turn, heading away from Dan, while Dan and Ted headed for the docks in an attempt to lose their tail.
CHAPTER 25: BUGBUG
Several hours after Dan had stoped by the wizard's estate, Thadeous Caylan, officer of the Wizard's Guild of the Ashtari Empire, opened the double oak doors to his study. Today was a very good day for him and he was enjoying it with relish, even taking some time to contemplate his situation and enjoy the moment. The wizard walked over his oriental rug, imported from the south-east empire and around his enormous mahogony desk, whose wood was forested from the Fafar and constructed by a skilled cabinet marker from the Eastern Empire, who had even constucted furniture for the Emperor. Caylan seated himself in front of his desk, pulling up his high-back armchair of cranberry leather, and looked around. Directly in front of the master wizard, symetrically centered upon the opposite wall, were the double doors to his study. On either side, and in fact covering all of the wall 1345 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 space except for that occupied by the curtained windows on the wall bnehind him, were oak bookshelves with glass doors to protect the shelves' contents. Wizard Caylan had one of the largest collections of literature, science, mathematics, and history in Inviroth, which undoubtedly meant that his collection was challenged by few others in the Western Empire. Caylan had just about read every one of them also, which is more than most of the local nobility could say about their fashionable library. Thadeous Caylan's desk had a smoothly finished surface, as slick as glass and shiny enough to see ones reflection. In order to demonstrate such properties, Caylan had done he best to keep it free of clutter, allowing only a pen and ink well to occupy the left, and a servant's bell so sit on the right. In the center, as was usual for this time of day, was a teapot and china cup left there by Jeeves. Thadeous poured out a cup of tea, leaned back in his chair, and took a sip of the tea. It was spearamint, with a touch of camomile, one of Caylan's favorites, just enough to accentuate the already good day. He had just gotten a report from his newly hired idiots, and although they had been an unwanted intrusion, the news which they brought wasn't. The wizard wished that he had better men working for him, and just over a week ago he had some of the best for the work he required, reasonably intelligent, but not enough to cause him problems, and skilled in some of the clandestine arts which he needed without having ever been members of the Thieves' Guild. However, due to some unfortunate circumstances, Caylan had been forced to replace his loyal men and had done the best job he could with only a day or two to react. He wasn't very happy when he went to visit Jim, who hadn't reported back to Caylan for a few days, and not only was there a destitute rat sleeping in front of Jim's doorway, something which Jim Redlock should have never allowed, but when he climbed down the ladder into his henchman's "office", Caylan was attacked by an awful stench. The wizard found all of his men, Jim included, lying scattered about the room, all of them murdered. That was one of the worst days that Caylan had all year, not only because he had lost some loyal servants, but because their deaths meant that the Technological Unification Organization had declared war upon him. He wasn't sure which bothered him more, the work necessary to replace Jim Redlock's intelligence and loyalty, or the unfinished work with the Unfication. 1346 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Several weeks ago Thadeous Caylan had thought himself finished with the Unification problem after he had the nosy freckled-face man killed by Jim. He must have been more important than Caylan had thought for such a reprisal to take place. The man himself had claimed, under torture, that he wasn't working for the Technologists and insisted that he was merely searching around on his own initiative. Caylan didn't believe him then, and was disappointed with himself for not taking the threat more seriously than he did. Caylan knew then that the man was not alone, as he had claimed, but working as part of a larger group, perhaps even a rogue element of the Unfication because they didn't use the standard assasination weapons and techniques. Regardless of what kind of revenge was being hatched by the Unfiication, Caylan was forced to acquire some new goons for his activities. Luckily, the wizard had enough magical protection that he didn't need them to keep him safe, because inevitably the lot he hired - temporarily - would be so incopetent that they'd never even be able to protect Caylan from a child, or even a Remozsh. They had already proved that, and Caylan was already out searching for more. Just yesterday he had sent the three out to catch a measly rat, actually two rats. He didn't know where one of them came from, but one had been sitting up in a tree and watching Caylan for three days, never even moving from its perch. The wizard wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that it had exactly the same clothing as the one sleeping in front of the warehouse door, something more than a coincidence. It was also something very odd, because Caylan had never heard of the technologists using Remozsh as spies. Interested by this fact, Caylan had sent his three goons out to capture the rats, but the gray one got away, and the idots barely even caught the one trapped in the tree. Caylan had an embarrassing time explaining to the neightbor why Caylan's men had tromped through his neighbor's flower garden, causing thousands of dollars damage, all of which had to be remitted. As soon as he had found replacements, Caylan would have to ditch the three oafs he had mistakenly hired, maybe even finding a way to silence them so that they'd never talk about their experience. However, even with the goons' ineptness, they did eventually catch one of the rats, which Caylan now had locked away in his laboratory. He handn't bothered to interrogate the Remozsh because it wouldn't know anything useful since the Unfication was certainly not so stupid as to tell a Remozsh anything strategic. If they 1347 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 did, their secret would be spread across half the city within a week. The one which Caylan had cought was probably supposed to keep quiet about what it was doing, but it had obviously told at least one fellow rat, because the gray one seemed to be stopping by for a chat. Although the wizard didn't expect or even try to learn anything from the rat, he did want to see if anyeone came to find the rat or even try to retrieve it. And they did. That was what made caylan so happy. After the guy left, Thadeous Caylan had his goons follow them, two men and the grey Remozsh as it turns out. Perhaps it wasn't such bad luck that the oafs let one of the rats escape. Of course, the goons' incopetence didn't help them trail the Technologists, who split up into two groups a few streets down the road. The oafs lost the man and the grey Remozsh, but one of them, the sandy haired guy - Caylan remembered his name to be Will - managed to trail the other man without being noticed, and just returned with his address, XXX. Now all that Caylan had to do was to figure out what to do with them. The first thing that Caylan was going to do was have one of the goons watch the Technologists' place, some kind of apartment, find out what he did and who he talked to. Hopefully he'd lead them to the rest of the people in the group, and maybe even to the culpable Unification boss who had ordered the assault. Caylan had his suspicions but wasn't willing to accidentally start a war with a guild as powerful as the Unification Organization. He'd have to capture at least one of the members alive, which would be difficult with the oafs he had working for him, in order to find out what the guild was up to. If necessary he'd have them all killed, although that would have to wait until he got some comptetent men working for him. There were enough people that they took care of Jim and his three men, and since the bodies were scattered rather far apart, there must be at least four of them, certainly more than a match for the incompetents which Caylan had now. The wizard remembered something strange about the battle scene though, which bothered him. Jim wasn't killed by any weapon, but had his throat torn out but a clawed beast, and a pretty rabid one from the looks of the damage. It might have been a trained cat, or maybe even a Ferazi, which would mean that the Unification was working with the Aliari. Caylan didn't understand why either party would do that, but if they were working together, then 1348 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Caylan felt sorry for the Aliari - Well, not really sorry - because the Organization would win out from the deal. The current goons definately wouldn't be able to complete the job and the wizard didn't know how long before he got some could ones. Unfortunately, he couldn't wait around for his agent to find the right men. The wizard's only alternative was sorcery, which was something which he hated using for this kind of business. Magic had a tendency to leave around enough clues to identify its usage, unnatural sounds coming from the victim's chambers, violent destruction of the room's contents, and either a missing body or a mangled corpse which looks like it was mauled by pride of tigers. Everyone in the city would know that magic was used and instantly point a finger at the Wizard's guild which wasn't even legally supposed to have an office in Inviroth. Caylan took another sip of tea and tried to think of some sort of magic he could perform which wouldn't leave such tracable residues. Of course, that's why he stole some artifacts from the Organization's factory, so that at some point in the future he could use the artifacts and make it look like the Organization did the assasination. That started this whole mess in the first place, and he wasn't about to blow his advantage by using some overkill sorcery. Now that he thought about it, though, Thadeous Caylan did have a possible solution to his dilemma. He remembered reading about a demon which didn't leave any obvious trace of its passage, but was clever enough to make it seem like its victim was murdered by a human. As he recalled, the magic wasn't fool proof and the victim might escape alive, which certainly wouldn't happen with any of the less discrete approaches, but it didn't leave any traces. If the members of the Organization were assaulted by a demon, and perchance survived the night, they might be scared enough to think twice, and by that time Caylan would have some better goons. Caylan put down the pen, which his had unconsciously picked up and fingered while he was thinking, sat back and relished the comfort of the arm chair. He took another sip of tea, relishing the sweetness, and then gave a broad smile. He was on the verge of laughing at the thought of his sucess. He wondered if he should go down into the cellar and toy with the Remozsh, ask it a few questions of idle chat, maybe even see if it really knew anything about why it 1349 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 was assigned to its post. It might be fun, watching it squirm, or maybe being awed by Caylan's intellect and perception. But it was most likely a waste of time talking to the creature and Caylan would get nothing more than babble out of its mouth. He decided to wait a day or two and see what else came along, hoping that something more interesting would. The wizard was amused at how well things were going, the acquisition of the Unification's weapons, prominent capture of some of their assasinations, and anticipating the ultimate diminuation of both the Thieves' guild and the Unification from Inviroth. Except for the occasional hitch, such as the death of Jim Redlock, everything was going well, and Thadeous had to admit that he was doing very well in the game of life. His eyes slid over his thousands of books in the study, thinking of the even more precious ones which he kept away from visitors, and down to the mahogony desk. The wizard enjoyed looking at the intricate carvings of cherubs, fruit, and flowers beneath the desk's rim, dancing in a circle around the desk's perimiter. And all of this was in his mansion right off of the best street in town. Caylan was doing very well enough indeed. But the wizard was not doing well enough to satisfy his hunger and still wanted more from life, hopefully the govenorship of Inviroth. That was the current challenge which Thadeous set his sights on, the wrenching of power from the current govenor's hands, Clive Derekson, Inviroth's "esteemed" leader for the past decade. He was not a particulary skilled administrator, but was well placed with the Emperor, although Cayland could see no reason why, because Clive was also a high ranking official of the Thieves' guild, probably a direct report to the guild's evasive leader. Of course, the nefarious guild prefered not to call themselves that, and refused to admit their existence, but everyone who was half awake knew of them, and begrudged the dual tax which they payed to the guild, one through protection payments, and the other through government taxes. Derekson was getting old and Caylan saw signs of the govenors decline, but unfortunately it was a painfully sluggish one for Caylan, who had designs on speeding up Clive's descent so that the wizard could take over the govenorship. Caylan was better suited for it and would actually make something of the city, not just a trading port and hideout for Unification factories.
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November 12, 2011 Of course, just like anything that was worthwhile, other people were aspiring to the prize, but Caylan only had to worry about one particulary aggressive person vying for the seat. Unfortunately, the wizard didn't know the man's name or he could have quickly silenced the other person. He did know that some guild official of the Organization was cozying up to the Emperor for the position, and had been fairly successful in his grovelling, gaining permission from the Emperor to open up several more factories in Inviroth and convincing the Emperor to turn a blind eye to the Unfication's other activities in the city. Caylan smiled, because now he had them trapped, both the mystery man and Derekson. The Wizard's guild headquarters had requested Caylan to acquire several copies of a weaponry device which the Organization was manufacturing in a local factory. Thadeous Caylan did this for his masters, acquiring four of the spheres, but he only gave his superiors two, keeping the others hidden from them. Although the devices were fairly ineffectual compared to sorcery, they were indellably tracable to the Organization's factories, especially if one of them went off and the other just happened to be a dud. Caylan would only have to place them is a strategic location, most likely the govenor's chambers or near some other official of the Thieves' guild. It didn't matter if it killed anyone and was undoubtedly more effectual for Caylan if it didn't. The wizard could claim check-mate then because the Thieves' Guild would be warring with the Organization in no time, allowing Caylan to relax, sit back in his armchair, and watch the battles discredit both of the guilds. When all of the fighting was over and the two guilds will have exhausted their violence, the Unfication Organization would be kicked out of Inviroth by order of the Emperor, including Caylan's opponent in the quest for govenor. Left in a weakened political position, Derekson would be ripe for the ousting with no one else to take the seat by Thadeous Caylan III. Of course, the West Empire Trading Company had some influence, but Weston was too inept and timid to do anything to counteract Caylan's move, and luckily, he wasn't in incompetent that the guild would remove him and find someone bolder. Once the battles had subsided, Caylan would be left with the task of producing a reasonable excuse for the Emperor to remove the thieves. That shouldn't be too hard, and then everything would be going as planned. Caylan wasn't certain about what he would do once he became govenor and didn't exactly know what or why he wanted it. The title was nice, a sort of revenge for the 1351 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 way that he was treated in the past, but more so, the ability to command something and have it carried out really appealed to him. With that power, he'd be able to mold the city in his own image, fix all of the annoying problems with the metroplis and expand its wealth and influence well beyond its current bounds. Of course, Caylan knew that the govenorship wouldn't keep him happy too long because it would get boring after awhile just as everything else which he had achieved did. The wizard knew that the govenorship wasn't what satisfied him, but it was the act of achieving the govenorship which excited him and tested his abilities, proving that he was the best in his field. Once he had attained any of his goals, Caylan had always found their luster to tarnish as the victory wore thin and the monotony of his new position grew. Once the wizard achieved the govenorship he'd have to acquire a new goal, perhaps turning his efforts to becoming titled a duke through his service to the Emperor. Who knows, if Caylan played his cards correctly, he might be able to break the dynasty and become Emperor. It did have a certain ring, "Emperor Caylan." But first things came first. After he had gotten the Organization and Thieve's guild feuding, Caylan would have to begin formulating a plan to discredit Derekson in the eyes of the Emperor. Derekson's violent death by the hands od a deamon would be easy but it was too readily traced to one of the members of the Wizard's guild, of which Caylan was a priminent member. Scandal on the other hand, was not traceable, but unfortunately Derekson was already so full of scandal that if the Emperor didn't care now then a bit more wouldn't make a different. However, the Emperor did care that trade proceed as regular and that nothing stopped it, benigitting greatly from the trade that passed through Inviroth. If Caylan spread some money around to a few well placed civil servants and essentially hired them to screw up the system, create more paperwork, hold up valueable shipments, and cause the trade to dwindle, Caylan was sure that the Emperor would react. Alternatively, the wizard could find out who Derekson's political rival in the Thieve's guild was, and with enough clandestine help, the two cut-throats would pull each other down. Now that was a plan which Caylan appreciated, having been on the other end of table before. And of course, that's where magic came in handy... 1352 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 26: BUGBUG
Marty sat at a small table positioned just off to the side of the fireplace, whose dying fire softly lit the dark room, and thew dancing shadows against the walls. He was all alone tonight in the flat, playing solitaire with himself and luck. The last game had gone well, Marty winning in X moves, but now it was time to deal out another round, probably the fith which he had done tonight. But before he reshuffled the cards and dealt them all, Marty remembered the coolness and his mental notes of just a few minutes ago that he should build up the fire. Marty put down his cards and broke the silence as he got up and pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. Next to the fireplace, on the right side, was a pile of wood from which Marty grabbed a log and placed it gently on burned wood, trying to not squash any of the miniature flames which still eaked a living off of the old log's husk. The fire dimmed as he put the log on, but after he prodded the new log into place the tiny flames returned in order to climb up the new log, devouring as they went. Satisfied that the fire would take, Marty returned to his chair and shuffled the deck. Marty didn't manage to do his work with much relish or flare, not particularly caring about his image tonight, and too bored to even practice it. Even Marty's room mate, Pete, was gone tonight, out with his girlfriend. Ned and Curt both said that they were going out tonight and subtly neglected to invite Marty along. Since Marty didn't care to hang out with anybody else tonight, he was forced to stay home and keep company with a deck of cards and a fire. It was better than sitting around and doing nothing but think. 1353 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Finishing the shuffle, Marty pulled his chair up to the table and dealt out the deck. He looked over the set, considered the alternatives for a moment, and then moved a X up to the top. Marty wished that he could be with his girlfriend too, but Marty and Julie had gotten into a little fight just a few nights before, and as was the way with fights, the two needed a cooling off time before they spend any length of time together. Yesterday, around noon, Marty stopped by to talk to her, and actually had a short conversation mostly consisting of comments about the weather, but when he got around to asking her if she wanted to go out, she flatly said, "No". Obviously, Julie was still upset with him, and Marty was upset with himself for doing what he'd done. He hoped that he'd soon forgot the incident at the party, wished that he hadn't been drunk, or had been so blitzed that he didn't remember anything and could deny all culpability, but he couldn't. It was done and all that Marty could do was wait and let time soothe over the mistake. If it weren't dark out already Marty would stop by Julie's again just to beg her. Maybe tomorrow he'd stop by and bring her seme flowers or a chocolate. That had worked in the past and sounded like a pretty good idea. Marty pulled out another card from the deck, a X. That was a good card. He was about to put the card down when he heard the outside door open behind him, very slowly so not to make any noise. Marty figured that it was Pete trying to sneak in without waking Marty up, just in case Marty was asleep, which he wasn't. After a few seconds Marty heard the floor creaking behind him, very quietly as though Pete were trying to sneak up on Marty. Why was he trying to do that? Marty's roommate should have notiuced that Marty was up and given up the creeping. Marty wondered if Pete was trying to play a prant on Marty. Pete might even be carrying a bucket of water or something to splash at Marty. Not wanting to get wet or have any other joke played on him, Marty turned around. It wasn't Pete. Marty blinked, but the image still didn't change. Marty recognized the Ferazi as it was in mid-air, lunging right for Marty, and all that Marty could think was, "Wow! I never saw one leap right at me before." Marty's conscious mind took over and began wondering what the hell was going on.
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November 12, 2011 But it was too late, the Ferazi landed just an arms lenth away from Marty, taking one broad swing with its sword. Marty's decapitated body fell slumped to the ground along with his head.
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Garth laid on his bed, staring at his cieling and watching the fire's dancing lights bounce around the room. The illuminance would highlight selections of the wall or ceiling for passing moments and then fade before the mind could grasp their presence. The flickers were only to be seen as an after-thought. His mother having gone to bed half and hour ago, Garth enjoyed the calm and solitude of the night, especially in front of a waning fire. He would watch the last lights of the dying flames and enjoy the rhythms and gyrations of the celestial dancers. Through the blurred lights he perceived hundreds of faerie dervishes silently chanting into his ear alone. Their ancient hymns, mostly an indecipherable murmur, were vague and unclear, but they occasionally revealed a spark of wisdom about the world and its strange machinations. During the rest of the dayt, with the business of the dayt and diversions of people, Garth was unable to hear anything clearly enough, but in these final hours of the days his thoughts and voices crystalized. Garth wished he could revel in their dances and chants eternally, but it wouldn't be long before he fell asleep and woke up to find the sun intruding upon his window again. Regardless, the room and world were silent now, and Garth was enjoying it. The bedroom door squeaked open and the whirling faeries fled beind the translucent veil of reality, abandoning Garth to deal with whomever was breaking the silence. Who was it! It was probably his bitch of a mother, coming in to rag on him somre more about some sort of uselss chore which he hadn't finished today. All she did was pester him, so much so that Garth wondered if she had a life or her own. Hell, Garth didn't have any time to worry about the activities of anyone but himself, and wondered how anyone else could have the time either. Well, bitch or not, Garth was too tired to deal with this tonight and refused deal with the problem. 1355 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Just to spite his mother, because he knew that it would, Garth lazily turned his head prepared to stare his intruder down with deep-set eyes and hellish grin. That was usually enough to send his mother into a fluster and have her lament all night about her son. But, rather than enacting his cruelty upon his mother, Garth's eyes saw something which must have been one of his hallucinations. His mother had turned into a demon roo which was preparing to impale a spear through Garth's chest. Shit! Over the endless years of his childhood, Garth's three older brothers had imprinted numerous neurosis and automatic reactions, ranging anywhere from checking every chair for a thumbtack to always catching object flying at him. One of the instincts, always getting away from something large being swung at you, reacted and Garth rolled off the bed, away from the impailing blade. His body was just tumbling off the bed when the spear stabbed into the straw beneath the sheets, but Garth hit floor half a second later, alive. Having landed face down, Garth roleld over and looked up at his brother, or was it a Ferazi. The roo had leapt onto the bed, and was now glaring down at Garth. Relying upon past experience, Garth knew that if he got up now he'd be hit right away. Of course, his brothers had always used pillows, and only once used a stick, but never a spear. Attempting a different tactic, Garth/e rolled under the bed for some protection, but when he was half way across the bed's underside, a spear point ripped through the bedding and embedded itself into the floor next to Garth's arm. Shit! Shit! Shit! Even though his brothers never had spears to terrorize Garth with, he was in this situation before, trapped under a bed with two older brothers standing on top of it, one waiting on each side of the bed, and he did know a trick which worked. Garth rolled onto his stomach, near one end of the bed, and heaved his back up, toppling the bed and the Ferazi away from him. Garth got to his feet in a second and was about to run for the door, but had to glance back to see how surpresied the roo was. Garth couldn't identify any facial expressions, but the roo was slowly excavating itself from the bed. 1356 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Gotcha fucker! Garth bolted for the doorway and was just crossing the threshhold when something sharp hit his back and pushed him forward, after which point Garth seemed to stop moving. What the hell!? Taking a session to asses his situation, Garth felt a tremendous pain cry out from his lower ribs and then looked down to see what was wrong. The spear's pointed tip protruded from the left side of his chest. It was covered in a wash of blood, but luckily he didn't see any blood escaping. Garth felt that he had to cough but when he tried he realized that he couldn't breath. Fuck! Garth felt something else press against his back, right next to where the spear must have gone in. It felt like a bare foot. The foot tried to push Garth forward and it seemed like the spear was pulled backwards. He watched terrified as the point slowly slid back into his body, feeling the pain of his flesh tearing yet a second time and watching the blood flow increase to a floor. By the time that the blade's point disappeared underneath his skin, Garth was weak but he still managed to stand because of its support. That didn't last long because a few seonds later Garth felt the steel slide out his back, and without any support, the foot's pressure pushed Garth forwards. He stumbled and fell face forward onto the floor. Garth tried to take a breath, and this time found out that he could, although as soon as he had gasped he air, he found that he had to cought. Although he wanted the air dearly, Garth couldn't stop the itch and coughed. A bit of blood trickled from his mouth. Garth took another breath but felt like he was breathing in water and was forced to cough again. Unable to move, with his head staring into the corner of the dark living room, Garth tried to see wherre the roo was. The Ferazi was there somewhere in his periphery.
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November 12, 2011 Something stabbed him higher up the chest and then Garth's body went numb. Garth watched the fire faeries dance against the living room walls and then slowly fade away, along with everything else.
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Ned leaned back on his chair, casuing the legs to creak as he tipped it back, and examined his cards once again to verify his move. He needed another card and was willing to risk running over. "Hit me," he informed to the dealer. Curt, the dealer, pulled a card off from the top of the deck, feignted a peek at it just to rile Ned up, and then slid it face down towards Ned. He picked up the card and examined it, carefully shielding all of his cards from his friend. The card was a two of diamonds, not exactly what Ned needed to win, but at least it didn't put him over the top. Just to phase the expectantly watching Curt, Ned interjected a confident, "Yes!" and pumped his arm in confirmation. "So did you win?" asked Curt, fiddling the tooth-pick around in his mouth. "Naw, but I'm close." Ned grinned. "You're just shitting me." "Am not." Ned smirked. He couldn't keep his ruse up too long. Curt obviously saw the smirk. "Yeah you are buddy-boy. You can't lie worth shit. I can tell, you're full 'v it now, just like the time you 'claimed' to have made it with Margaret." Margaret? Curt never would let Ned forget about her. "Now wait-a-minute. If you could detect my lies half as well as you think, you'd know that I did... and man did she have huge..." Ned motioned with his hands.
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November 12, 2011 "Uh uh." Curt nodded his head. "You didn't have a chance, and you lied then just as bad as you're lying now." He pulled a card from the deck's top, looked at it, and sorted it into the cards which he held. "And how would you know pecker head?" "Oh... You might say that word got around about your fee-eeble attempts." Both Ned and Curt were wearing smiles by this point of the game. "You're full of shit. She won't even talk to you." "But her friends will and they told me all." At that Curt got to his knees and began to sing to an imaginary second story window. "Oh my darling..." came out the tune. "Shut up. I know who you talked to. I bet ya talked to Brenda. Ha! I can't believe you'd believe anything she said." Ned then tried to change the subject. "Anyway, get off your knees and give me another hit." Curt complied, got back in his chair, and tossed Ned another card. "Stop grinning Ned. That's not the one you need," predicted Curt. Ned couldn't pass that one up. "Oh, are you so sure?" "Yep. You're just bluffing. As I said earlier, you ain't got shit in your hand." "How much ya willin to bet? Five dollars? No, I'll bet higher. Ten dollars that this card'll win for me." Ned pulled out ten dollars and put it on the table right in front of Curt. "Fine." Curt likewise rummaged through his purse and pulled out ten dollars, leaving him only two dollars left. "Deal." Ned peeked under the card and smiled just to play with Chris. "Okay. I'm not taking any more cards. Just take however many you need for your fee-eeble attempt and then we'll see who's closest to twenty one." Curt examined his cards for awhile and then took another. He grinned after he looked at it and then put down all his cards face up. "Nineteen sucker!" 1359 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ned smiled. He'd lost his bluff, but it was only ten dollars, and it was only money. Unexpectently, Ned heard a loud thud from the door behind him as if something heavy had hit it. Subconsciously, he turned around to see what was happening, and just as he swiveled his head around the door flew off its hinges. The door toppled straight down and the top of the door and hit the back legs of Ned's chair, putting large gouges into the legs but stopping the door before it hit the ground. Ned, terrified of what he saw, stood up, allowing the door to pushed the empty seat aside and slam into the floor with a muted thud. "Fuck!" This wasn't supposed to happen. Ned's mind went blank for a moment before he managed to scrape up with an idea. Without looking back, he yelled to Curt, "Get the poker!" and picked up one of the wooden chairs to defend himself, hoping that lion tamers knew what they were doing. The Ferazi stepped into the room and onto the dismembered door. It was a yellowed white with demonic red eyes and ears laid flat, wearing chain armor and wielding a very long sword in its right hand, more than a match for Ned's chair. Ned backed up a step and held his chair as an impromptu shield, constantly trying to judge where the Ferazi would strike. Ned hear Curt scrambling around behind but wasn't excatly sure what his friend was doing and definately wasn't going to take his eyes off of the looming Ferazi. Hopefully Curt was getting the crossbow, and if he wasn't then they were both damned. Curt must have been doing something because it seemed that the roo took notice and looked beyond Ned. He knew that Curt must be getting the crossbow now, but then a terrible thought hit Ned... What if Curt had loaned it to Garth again? That scenario was so awful that Ned couldn't even consider it. Curt wasn't that moronic! Or so Ned hoped. Ned tried to back up but was blocked by the table after taking half of a step. Without warning, the roo took a high swing at Ned with its sword. Ned raised his chair and blocked the steel, allowing it to sever one of the chair's cross supports rather than his head. 1360 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Ferazi took two steps closer, near enough that Ned could now swing his chair and hit the monster with the chair's legs. The attack might even hit, but Ned doubted that it would do anything effectual. Rather than attacking, Ned tried to push the table back with his butt. It pushed back a bit but then wedged up against a chair and didn't move any further. Shit! He hoped that Curt had found the bow and was cocking it, but whe defiantely wasn't willing to look back. Ned's enemy took another high swing which Ned likewise blocked by raising the chair, but this time the Ferazi kicked underneath the chair and into Ned's stomach. The wind was knocked out of him instantly, but that didn't catch Ned's attention very much because the force of the roo's kick threw Ned into the fair and across the table. As he slid across the surface, Ned's boots caught hold of the table's rim and carried it along with his own momentum. Ned the slid off the table and then hit a chair, which subsequently slide aside and let Ned hit the floor, landing on his back. The table, including the cards, glasses, and beer followed Neda nd took the opportunity to land on top of him. The chair he was holding likewise joined in the punishment and came crashing down on his chest. Ned was so battered and bruished that he couldn't do anything except breath in painful gasps, hoping that the Ferazi would leave him for dead. From his position Ned could only see the Ferazi's hea because the table and chair blocking most of his view. Where was Curt? To Ned's relief, Curt was off to the right of the table, bent down and likewise obscured by the table and part of a chair. Cur stood stood up, and to Ned's relief, he was holding cocked crossbow in one hand with a bolt in the other, wildly fidgeting with the mechanisms to insert the bolt. Did he have enough time? Ned looked back towards the Ferazi but didn't see its head anymore. However, he heard the Ferazi take a few footsteps toward Curt, saw a sword emerge from behind the table and pierce Curt through the chest. The sword went straight through and into the wall behind Ned's friend, blood covering the protruding part. Ned then saw the demonic Ferazi emerge from behind the table and take two steps closer to Curt, who still pinned to the wall. It seemed to gloat over Ned's dying friend for a moment and then glared straight at Ned, who undersGarth the meesage wel. Ned was next.
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November 12, 2011 With its bone-white hand, the Ferazi grabbed Curt's head by his hair, pushed it and the rest of Curt's limp body against the wall, and extruded the sword. Curt's body instantly slumped, dead. Then, holding up Curt' limp body by his hair, the monster dragged Curt towards the door and behind the table, hidden from Ned's eyes, but he heard the sound of Curt's boyd being dragged stop when it was close to the doorway. Expecting to be killed next, Ned sat quietly and awaited his death sentence, not wishing to waste the last few minutes of his life in a futile struggle against a demon. He'd rather relax and savour the time. Fifteen minutes seemed to pass and still the beast hadn't come to get him. Ned would have thought that it had left except for the occasional sound of Curt's body being shuffled around beyond Ned's view, and the odd grunt from the beast. Ned didn't want to imagine what the monster was doing to his friend, and hoped that he'd die before he found out. But, as he waited to die, Ned's strength slowly returned, and when it got strong enough, Ned's morale returned and he decided to fight for his life and kill the roo. Curt had already cocked the crossbow and had almost gotten the bolt in before he was murdered. Curt may have even managed to get the bolt in, but Ned couldn't see. If Ned could stay hidden behind the table, crawl over to the crossbow and grab it, he'd be able to kill the white demon. Acting upon this plan, Ned slowly lifted the chair off of his chest and quietly placed it on the floor next to him, all the while listening for changes in the Ferazi's actions. The roo didn't seem to notice. Ned then sat up so that he could see what shape his legs were in and if they were trapped. Luckily, only the cards and beer mugs had fallen on them, while the table had missed, which meant that Ned didn't have to move the table. Then, very slowly, Ned turned himself onto his hands and knees and painfully crawled towards the last place he'd seen the crossbow, managing to keep the table between him and the Ferazi all of the time. Every time he put weight on his left arm, pain would explode in his shoulder. His back likewise was sore, but Ned forced himself not to scream or grasp for every stab of pain. After about a minute Ned reached the end of the table, still undetected by the Ferazi. From there he could see the crossbow only a meter away. The bolt was half way in 1362 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the glide and only needed a bit of pushing and positioning to get right. Curt had been about three seconds away from killing the damned thing. To make sure that he wasn't spotted, Ned peeked around the edge of the table to see what the roo was up to - It was skinning Ned's friend with a dagger! Curt's skin from an entire arm and half of his chest had already been removed. The fucking Ferazi had done the same thing to Ned's grandfather, and now to Curt. If Ned didn't move he would be next to be skinned. Deciding that the present was the best time for action and throwing caution to the wind, Ned leapt at the crossbow with all his strength, picked it up, and sild the bolt in the rest of the way. By the time he had shouldered the crossbow and pointed it towards the roo, the creature was already on its feet and running towards Ned. Ned fired. The bolt sprung from the crossbow. Ned saw a tuft of fur on the creature's cheek fly off, but the bolt ended up embedded int the wall behind the Ferazi. Ned had fucked up big and now he was going to die. He resigned himself to death. Since Ned no longer had any weapon worth mentioning, the Ferazi slowly approached with its sword in hand. When it was only a short distance away it crouched down to be at eye level with Ned, readied its sword for a lateral swing, and then spoke: "Saved your life did I," it said in a scratchy inhuman voice. "Because Mike ask me." It looked down momentarily and then resumed its stare. "Kill me you try. My," the Ferazi uttered an unintelligible sound, and then followed it with, "done." At that the beast swung. Ned wasn't fast enough to block it.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 27: BUGBUG
On the same night that Shashevaj enacted his revenge, John dreamed. John waked up a flight of creaking wooden stairs, apparently the same flight in his parent's house which he had climbed or run up thousands of times as a child. At the top of the stairs was his bedroom which he hadn't seen for at least five years, not since he had unceremoniously left home. Although he couldn't really remember what his old room looked like nor what was up there, John knew that something important was hidden away upstairs, and he was climbing the stairs to find it. As John walked, every step gave its familiar creak and friendly greeting, just as he had remembered them. Even though a creak in the floor was often unsettling, these were soothing to John because they were inhabitants of his childhood home, along with all of the nostalgic memories which filled the house. Surprisingly, John was glad that he had returned, and almost wished that time had never taken him away from this place. It was amazing, everything was exactly the same as when he had left five years ago, when he had said goodbye to it without understanding what that meant. Even the same illustrations, some of them drawn by John's older brother at John's request, were hung on the wall. The house even smelled the same, fresh and clean with a bit of sawdust smell from his father's shop. John wondered why he ever left, but knew now that he should never have. And now, he came back to find something he needed, located someplace up in his room. What was it? What was so precious? It didn't matter much though, since John knew that it was up there at the top of the stairs. John reached the top of the flight and opened the door on his left, the one which led to his bedroom. Ever since he had left home he had never really lived anywhere, never really had anyplace to call his own, but continually moved between apartments looking for a better deal. None of them were really his. But this bedroom 1364 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 was John's, even though he left it so long ago, and John would gladly give up his current apartment for the smaller room because it was his, and been his since he was born. The door opened just like his door, and when a faint breath of air escaped from the room, it even smelled like his room. All of the apartments that he had ever lived in had an odd smell which was never wholly removed, no matter how much John aired them out. But this was John's room, so he opened the door further, and not knowing what he'd discover, John peeked into his old room. Nothing had changed at all. The bed, dresser, and shelves of baubles were all in the same place where he had abandoned them, sitting there all this time and waiting for his return. John walked into his room and looked around. It seemed smaller now than it had before he left, but he could easily forgive it that. After soakling in the atmosphere, John walked over to his shelves, three rows of pine boards attached to the wall by several L-shaped pieces beneath. John rememberd when his father had put them up for him. John must have been only six years old then and the world seemed like it would never end. The world didn't end, but it soured and all of its color faded, until just now when John returned to his home, one of the few memories of his which was still vibrant. Sitting on the middle shelf was John's old porceline beer mug which his grandfather had given him when he came of age at thirteen - It had a painting of a buck's head on it. Next to the mug was a piece of slate and chalk with a forgotten letter written on it. John that that it might be a "B" but he couldn't remember after all of these years. His eyes teared up because he had let his mother down and never learned how to read or write, and because he had abandoned her with so much hate in his heart. Next to the slate was something even more prescious, the dagger which his father had bestowed upon him when he was a boy. John picked up the knife, stroked the wooden sheath with a tree carned on it, and grabbed onto the finely carved hilt. His father had carved the hilt and scabbard for John after asking his son what design he'd like. The wood was mahogony, imported from the Eastern Empire. How did the dagger get here? John had lost it several years ago, about two years after he had left his home and gone off on his own. Whatever happened, it didn't matter to John how it found it's way back onto his shelf and in perfect condition. John wouldn't lose it again though, and definately wouldn't leave it around for fear that it might get lost again. John took the knife and stuffed it into his belt.
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November 12, 2011 Was the knife what John was looking for? At first he thought that it might have been, since it was the only thing that remained of John's father, but even though it was the most prescious thing which John had seen, he knew that the dagger wasn't it. No, there was something more significant. What was it? John couldn't remember anything about it except that he had the object in his childhood and then it disappeared. It had been around for years, ever since he remembered, but something happened and it just vanished. He could remember having it one day, but then a week later it had gone. Maybe it was someplace in the room. Since John knew that it wasn't anything on that was on the shelf, he took to examining his dresser for any knick knacks or contents. The drawers all had clothes in them, some of which John knew had worn out long ago but which were now new and ready to be worn again. John was tempted to try some on but he knew that he definately wasn't looking for the clothes or shoes which he found, but something much more imporant. There wasn't anything on top of the dresser either, except a doily which his mother had bought and put there one day. He was never really sure why but he didn't care enough to remove it, and in a way, it made the dresser look better. If it wasn't clothes, then what was he looking for? Although John didn't remember what it was, he knew that he'd recognize it instantly when he found it. John looked over the bed next, admiring how neatly made and dressed it was. Although John was fairly fastidious and made his bed every day, he recognized his mother's loving touch on this job. The sheets were far too smoothe, pillows too well fluffled, and lines too straight for him to have made the bed five years ago. His mother must have come into the room and cleaned it up after he had run away, never daring to touch any of his belongings except to make the bed which he left undone. Just for rememberance, John sat down on it and felt the comfort. All of the beds in the apartments were hard. On a whim, he started bouncing up and down on the bed and actually found it kind of fun. Why was he doing that? John had never bounced on his bed before, never. Then why was he doing it? John seemed to remember knowing someone who bounced on beds all of the time but couldn't recall any more than that. It didn't matter at them moment because what John was really here for was it. 1366 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 John remembered taht he had hidden it someplace safe so it wouldn't get damaged or lost. It was in one of the secret hiding places which he had discovered around the house. It was odd, but he had never discovered any hiding places equally as good in the apartments he had stayed in since leaving. It might of been because of the age of John's house, but he suspected that it was because of the homelessness of the apartments.Or maybe he had just forgotten how to find a good hiding spot. He had certainly forgotten where all of the ones in the house were. Where were the hiding places? Where would he hide it? John bent down and peeked underneath his bed. He used to hide, or at least stuff, lots of his toys underneath it so that hey would stay safe, and also that they wouldn't clutter up the room. John saw something small under the bed, but the object was too shadowed to be seen clearly. Maybe that was it? John got onto his stomach, reached underneath the bed, and pulled the object out. It was a red sock. Strange, John had always wondered where that had gone. Although he had been curious about what had happened John knew that he wasn't looking for the sock so he dropped it back under the bed to leave it for another five more year. And then it hit him, it was downstairs! And John knew exactly where it was. John bolted out of the room and ran downstairs to another hiding spot, one which was much better than underneath the bed. When he was young he had discovered a lose floorboard in the corner of the living room and used it for a hiding place of very special treasures, one which his parents would never discover or tresspass on. John took a few seconds of searching to find the correct spot, but when he finally identified the correct board, with the dent in the corner and slightly rounded edges, it was just as he had left it, untouched by anyone else. John pushed on the far end of the board to raise the the opposite end, slipped his fingers underneath the slight crack which was opened up, and lifted out the board. Happy that his father had never noticed the board and nailed it in, John eagerly looked in the darkness of the subfloor for "it" but could see nothing. Thinking that maybe it had slid out of sight, John bent down and put his arm into the hole, all of the way up to his shoulder, and felt around. However, he could only feel dirt. John searched around some more, groping even more wildly but found nothing so he pulled out his arm. As he did so he scraped it against a nail, cutting a skin-deep gash into his left arm. Shit! He didn't remember 1367 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 that being there, but either way, the scrape didn't matter much at the moment since John's search was far more important. Where could it be? John knew absolutely that it was someplace in the house and thought that it was in the bedroom. Just a minute ago he was sure that it was there, but because he didn't find anything there he began to doubt himself. Thinking back to his childhood, John distinctly remembered having it one day and then hiding it because he didn't want it getting broken. Where could it be? And then John remembered another hiding place, one which would never even be found by his father, the dresser! John realized that he had hidden it in the dresser. Forgetting the removed board and hole which it created, John ran up the stairs just as quickly as he had come down. He would finally reclaim what he'd lost and in the process, retrieve something very valuable. But, half way of the stairs, John's foot went through a rotted board and his leg when through up to his knee, scraping it up pretty badly and almost breaking it. Where did that come from? John had always rembered that stair as being perfectly sturdy. In fact, all of them were perfectly sound. An explanation soon came to him though; He hadn't been here in five years and if the house were left unattended then a lot of damage could be caused by a leak. That didn't make sense though, because John had just walked up and down the stairs and nothing had happened at all. John concluded that he had been lucky before and must have missing the rotted are. Ignoring the problem, John pulled his scraped-up leg out and continued up the flight, but this time more slowly because of other potentially bad boards. John took just a few steps up and then noticed something else strange. The illustrations of birds which had just been on the wall were now gone, exposing the unfaded paint which they had protected over the years. John wondered if maybe he had imagined them before, or maybe that they had fallen down when he ran down the stairs. He looked around but didn't see them lying anywhere on the staircase, and now that John was paying attention to his surroundings, he noticed that the light seemed to be dimmer. Strange. 1368 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 John continued up to the top of the stairs without any more incidents. He opened the door to his room - Didn't he leave the door wide open just a minute ago? - and walked cautiously in. He looked around and noticed that something was definately wrong. The bed and dresser, which had been prsitine and perfectly positioned before, were moved to the entirely wrong places. Worried, John looked around to see what else had changed and he noticed that his shelves were empty. As John continued his sweep of the room to see what else had been defiled, he realized that the bedroom door wasn't even there, even though John had just opened it five seconds ago. Where did it go? Then John noticed that it was on the opposite wall. What was going on? Not liking the strange things that were happening, John ran out of his room and down the stairs. Even though he hated to leave it, whatever he had lost would wait untl he sorted out what was happening. As he flew down the steps he made sure to avoid the bad landing but couldn't find it, not even the hole which his foot had created. What was happening to the world? The new surreality causd John to ran even faster, flying down the rest of the stairs and down to the front door through which he enterd. Did he come in the house that way? John tore opened the house's front door and flew outside, seeking some sort of eascape or protection in the open, but only found himself in a dark corridor of stone. Handing fromthe ceiling were a row of four swaying chandeliers made of leaded glass and illuminated by hundreds of burning candles which danced in the wind. John couldn't feel any wind. What was moving the chandeliers then? John took a step forward and the luminations started to sway even more vigorously, so tempestuously that they smashed against the walls and rained shattered glass down upon John. In order to escape the rain-showers, John ran to the end of the hall to where there was a door. As he passed each chandelier he heard it faill behind him and shatter against the ground, feeling little flecks of glass hit him in the back. Although he had never rememebed this hallway being outside his house, the he assumed that the door might lead outside. What was going on? What had happened to his house?
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November 12, 2011 John ripped open the door and ran through it into a large room with suits of armor standing gaurd around the walls, each holding halberds in their iron hands. Not caring what was in this room, John slammed the door behind him and barred it. Then, very slowly, he walked into the middle of the room and looked around. All that he saw were the shells of knights, four to a wall, who were standing around the room's edges. There were no exits from the room, not even the one which he had just come from. Something squeak behind him and and John whirled around. No-one was there. What was it? It had sounded like the sound of a creaking floor board or that of rusted iron pieces rubbing aginst one another. Metal squeaked again, this time to his right and John's head twisted to see what it was, but could find nothing. Then another squeak escaped and John saw it! The armor started to move, first a finger of the gauntet, then an arm, and then a leg. It's initiative was copied by the other knights and before long all of the suits were moving. What was going on? Why were suits of armor moving? What had happened to his house? How did he get in a room without exits? How did he get out? The suits of armors stared to walk towards John in slow, labored stpes, but they converged on him from all angles. As they noisly crept towards John they all lifted their halberds in unison. Once again John searched around for an exist but saw only halberds. The halberds were slowly raised up. John screamed. And then John woke up. John stopped screaming. The apartment was dark, nearly pitch black, but John could catch some light coming in through the windows. He sat up in his bed and tried to relax, since his hearbeat was running along and he was covered with sweat. He kept on telling himself that he 1370 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 only had had a nightmare, which was the truth. Of course, be believed this on an intellectual level, but physically and emotionally his body was claiming it real, just like the nightmare's he'd had before, although he'd never had one this bad. John tried to remember the last time he'd had a nightmare but couldn't come up with anything more recent than two years ago. Even though he didn't have terrifying dreams often, he knew that all he had to do was wait out the panic and he'd soon get back to sleep. Taking his mind off of the dream, John thought about the previous day's events. He, Dan, and the other Remozsh had gone to Caylan's mansion to get Roy. Dan had insisted on going alone and leaving John with a blabbering rat who wasn't nearly as much fun to play with as Roy. Dan returned after a few minutes and told John that they were in trouble because the wizard was onto them. That subsequently turned out to be true because the other rat noticed that they were followed. After the group had split up, John headed up the street a ways and then turned around to see where the wizard's spy was. When John saw him following after Dan and the other rat, he headed straight for home and let Dan deal with the tail. Occasionally, Dan would check to see if anyone followed him but no one was ever there, just to make sure that the guy was following Dan and not John. Once home John waited for a few hours and then headed off to Dan's for the rendevous where... John heard a floor-board squeek. Having just escaped from a nightmare, John instantly became alert and listened for any more sounds. After a minute of silence he convinced himself that his nerves were on edge because of the dream and that the building was just settling.. John returned to the story... He had met with Dan and the rat at Dan's apartment. As it turned out, the two had evaded their pursuant someplace around the docks and then wandered around for another hour just to be safe. It was then that Dan and John then decided... Another squeak. John again pearked up and waited awhile to prove to himself that he was either imagining things or making the sounds louder than they were. It didn't 1371 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 work this time. He heard some small glass object hit the floor and shatter. What was that? John rationalized. He owned a small mirror and may have placed it on the edge of his chair. It could have been teetering all night and waited till this moment to fall off. That was it. That must be it. But John's fears were heightened. What if there was a robber in the apartment? Perhaps the robber was stealthfully sneaking around the room and had accidentally shattered something while John was dreaming. That must have spawned the nightmare. It at least explained the cause of the nightmare, but the thought of a thief wandering around his apartment wasn't any better. "Is anyone there?" John asked in a loud voice hoping that his words would scare off any burgler. No answer came. A small object hit the wall near John's bed and fell onto the ground. John lept out of his bed. Another small object soon pelted him in the chest and clattered on the ground. "Hey," yelled John in subconscious response. Frustrated because he couldn't see anything, John fumbled for his flint and lantern on his dresser. He struck the flint but it didn't take. Something larger hit him in the head and then thudded on the bed. John struck again and the lamp lit up and in a few seconds then flame was large enough to light the whole room. It was empty and John was alone. John wondered if he had been dreaming the last few minutes. This night was too strange. But he wasn't dreaming and someone had been throwing stuff at John, because he saw the objects lying on the bed, his cup and shaving razor. It was then that John noticed his left arm. It had a scratch on it just like the one which he had dreamed, in the exact same place, and although he hadn't noticed before, it hurt. Wondering if anything else in the dream were true, John looked down at his leg and noticed that it was all scraped up! What was going on? John wondered if he was still dreaming but after looking around for a moment decided that he was awake. He must have just been sleepwalking, and had somehow hurt his arm and leg while 1372 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 doing so. A few minutes ago, when he had "woken up", he had really still been alseep, because while he was sleep walking he must have picked up the cup and razor and thrown them on his bed. But, just in case there was a burgler in the apartment, John opened his middle dresser drawer, fumbled underneath some clothes and got his sword out. He drew the blade from its sheath and threw the scabbard onto his bed. Knowing of only one hiding place in his apartment, Jogn then bent down and carefully checked underneath his bed. No-one was under there. John must have been sleep walking. John, holding the sword in hand for protection, waited awhile longer to see if anything happened, but after a few minutes of inactivity John's comb suddenly flew out of nowhere and hit him on his shoulder. John looked at the dresser's top where the comb had been but no one was there to throw the comb. Then, to John's total bewilderment, his pewter plate levitated off of his dresser and then accelerated towards him. John parried the saucer with his sword but it only deflected the object away from his head and into his shoulder. What the hell was going on? John was dreaming! So how do you wake up from a dream? John didn't know but he tried anyway. Nothing happened. Not happy with flinging smaller objects, the dresser began shaking and after a few convulsions it rose off of the ground, tottering back and forth. If the dresser managed to fly through the air and hit John he'd either end up with a broken bone, wind up unconscious, or have his neck broken. Any of the options were unacceptable so John made a dash towards the door, dropped the sword in the process of unlocking the latch, and ran outside into the night. After running a safe distance from his apartment, Dan leaned against a wall to catch his breath and consider the un-reality of what just happened. He seemed to be awake, especially since he had waken up from one dream already. Of course, he could still be dreaming the nightmare since he had dreams within dreams before. John didn't believe it though. This was too real. He didn't even think he was imaginging it, but he couldn't be sure.
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November 12, 2011 Although Dan was nearrby, John decided not to bother his friend and risk the stigma of being called crazy so he decided to just wait out the night. He soon changed his mind when a garbage can flew at him from across the street and knocked him over. Shit! It was following him. John gave up his territory and ran further on down the steet, all the while dodging objects which were picked up off of the street and flew at him. By luck, John ran onto a street which had an open tavern. With as much speed as he could muster, without looking like too much of an idiot, John darted for the lighted door hoping that an inhabitated place would dispell the poltergeist. If anything started to fly at him he would at least know if he were crazy; If he saw objects flying around and no-one else saw anything then John would conclude himself to be insane and commit himself to some sort of asylumn. Just before John reached the door he slowed down to a fast walk so that he'd keep his dignity when he walked through the door. Something heavy whacked John in the back just after he'd opened the door but John jumped into the noisy bar-room and closed the door behind him. He waited there until morning without any incidents.
CHAPTER 28: BUGBUG
The next day, about two hours before sunset, Dan stopped by John's place and knocked on his door. Since no one came to the door after half of a minute, Dan figured that John was out somewhere and that Dan would have to leave. He turned around and walked down the street, but before he was four footsteps away the door behind him opened up.
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November 12, 2011 Dan turned around and saw John standing in the doorway, his hair alternatively messed up and flattened from sleeping, and wearing a very tired look. "Did I wake you up?" asked Dan apologetically. He walked back to John's doorway. John sleepily answered, "Yeah." "Sorry. I didn't think you'd be asleep so early." John hesitated and then replied, "Well I just couldn't get to sleep last night." "Well, I'll be gone in a minute. This won't take long." John stared at Dan, waiting for the rest. "I stopped by Chris' today and actually got him to talk to me. Looks like he's in a world of hurt. He wouldn't tell me why he quit, but when I explained what had happened he got a bit more interested." John didn't have any questions yet, and not even a snide comment. That was unsual. "Chris came up with a way of getting Roy out. He said that tomorrow night is some sort of ceremonial day for wizards and that Caylan should be busy doing his hocus pocus stuff. We might be able to sneak into his mansion and get Roy out." John still said nothing. Dan considered this really odd since he'd expected some sort of remark about Roy from that last sentence. John must really be tired. "Well," continued Dan, "are you in?" "Sure," answered a listless John. He was dfinately tired. "Okay then, be at my apartment with your sword and armor tomorrow night, after sunset. You can go back to sleep now." John closed the door and Dan left for his next stop, the Little Warren, a place which Dan didn't really wan't to visit, ever. To make matters worse, Dan was worried what Shashevaj's reaction would be to the news that Roy had been captured by the wizard. Dan wasn't sure if the Ferazi liked Roy, didn't care, or hated him, so he didn't 1375 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 know whether the Ferazi would join in the rescue mission or not. Dan's past experiences with the Ferazi told him that Shaj was impulsive, and Dan fretted about being on the wrong end of the impulse. Informing him about Roy might do that. But then again, Roy's capture was proof that the wizard was behind Mike's murder, or at the very least hinted at the wizard's culpability. Roy's abduction and the story from Mike's manager seemed to form a solid enough foundation to reply upon. The facts had already convinced Dan, and hopefully they'd convince the Ferazi enough to help in the rescue just in case a fight broke out. Shaj was the best fighter of the three by far, and was extremely intimidating to anyone standing on the other end. Of course, Dan didn't plan on getting into a fight, nor did he plan on assassination Caylan, as was suggested by Mike's manager. But Dan wanted Shaj there just and case, and if he wouldn't help rescue Roy then Dan would have to give up, because he wouldn't break into the wizard's mansion with only John. His friend was good with weapons but not that good. As Dan had been walking down the streets and alleys to get to the little warren, he would check out the shops and roads that he passed in order to get his bearings, and would even catch the scenery behind him with the corner of his eye from time to time. During once of those occasional glances around, Dan thought he saw the man who had followed them yesterday on Garden street, but when he turned around again the spy was gone. Inevitably this changed Dan's worries from dealing with the Ferazi to figuring out what to do with a tail. His first response was to run away and escape, but then he started to think of another one. Maybe Dan could capture his pursuant and find out what the wizard was up to. He'd just have to walk down an alley, hide, and hope that he was followed, jumping on the guy the minute that he walked by. Unfortunately, this last idea was pointless because Dan didn't have any weapon except a knife, while the thug was likely to have something longer. Could Dan win a one-on-one combat, each person having knives? Maybe, but he was sure to be cut up, be arrested by the police, and then get into a whole heap of trouble if any of his other actions were exposed.
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November 12, 2011 Dan decided that it was better to lose his follower rather than capture him, and took a right on the next crowded road. He quickly weaved his way through the populace, horses, and donkeys, crouched low so that he head wouldn't be spotted bobbing among the obstructions. After creeping left down a more deserted street and then another quick left, Dan leaned against the wall and waited for his pursuant to come by, but no one did. After a few minutes of waiting and watching anyone who came by, Dan assumed that he'd escaped and continued his walk to Shaj's place. Every so often Dan would turn around to see if he was followed but never anyone back there that he recognized. But Dan was still not out of problems because as soon as he walked into the ghetto in the fading light, every Ferazi on the street stared at him,full of animosity. Shaj had still not told Dan or John where his house was, so all that Dan could do was find a Ferazi on the open street and ask it. The one which Dan chose happened to be sitting on a chair just outside of a doorway. When it saw Dan approaching it got up and opened the door, but before it had a chance to go in, Dan yelled out, "Wait! I'm here to talk to Shashevaj. Could you get him for me?" It turned around and looked at Dan, lifting its ears slightly. "Shashevaj. Do you know where he lives?" The Ferazi nodded its head, closed the door, and then loped in a semi-circle around Dan, staying at least five meters away. Dan turned to followed the creature, wondering what it was up to and whether it would leave Dan alone. It didn't however, because when it had walked around the semi-circle, it motioned with its hand to follow, or so Dan assumed. Having nothing else to do, Dan followed the creature down the main road and off to a small alley, never attempting to close the distance between himself and the Ferazi. If it wanted to be that far away, Dan was not about to corner it. The Ferazi walked up to a door, knocked on it, and then muttered some words, none of which Dan could understand. The door opened and out stepped Shaj, wearing a crude shirt rather than chainmail, and the other Ferazi wandered off. Shaj didn't say anything. 1377 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Hello," said Dan as he came closer. The Ferazi was still silent. This was not Dan's night for catching people awake, first interrupting John's sleep and then t he Ferazi. Dan could even see some ruffled fur on Shaj's left cheek and elbow. He hoped that Shaj was polite about being woken as John. They day had started out so well too, because when Dan stopped by Susan's house he got a really warm reception, both from Susan and hger mother. He should have left her until last so that he'd have a friendly reaction to look forward to at the end of the day. Instead he had visited her first, and couldn't get more than a few words from his later hosts. So how should Dan break the news to a Ferazi? Bluntly. "I have some bad new for you Shaj," Dan said. The Ferazi's ears perked up. He's interested. "Roy's been captured by Caylan." The ears went back flat against his head. Now he's mad. Dan decided to be very careful. "Ven," stated Shaj. Dan realized that it was supposed to be a question. "Two nights ago. I tried to get you but you weren't around." "Ven," stated Shaj again. When what? When did Dan stop by? "I stopped by about noon." Hopefully that was the right answer. "At work I." So Shaj admitted that he worked. Dan always wondered what Shaj did for employment but decided that this wasn't the best time for such small talk. "Tomorrow night John and me are gonna rescue him. Are you in?" "Come I," stated Shaj. Was that a question or an answer? Answer. "Okay, be at my place at sunset tomorrow. Bring your weapons and armor." "Do I." "Okay, bye." Dan waved good-bye and Shaj closed the door. No wonder no-one liked Ferazi; They were impossible to talk to. 1378 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Not wishing to push his luck further with the Ferazi, Dan headed back in the same direction which he came, hoping that Shaj would have enough common sense to come prepared for combat.
CHAPTER 29: BUGBUG
John had a difficult time keeping awake duriing the seemingly endless day. Luckily, after he entered the bar, Bubba's Pub as he later discovered its name to be, none of the disturbances, flying garbage cans, creaking boards, or moving furniture happened. Although this didn't help John resolve the question of his santity, it did at least allow him a bit of safety from whatever had happened in his apartment. It didn't, however, prevent John from feeling completely inane. John didn't usually sleep in his best clothes, and last night had been no exception. He was wearing a ratty old shirt and pants, just enough to keep him warm at night underneath his sheets. Inevitably, he had no money with him so he was at a loss for how to stay in the bar without being kicked out. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have even walked into "Bubba's Pub", the name being too retarded, but he was there, without cash, and he desperately didn't want to go outside and experience a spiritual assault again. John did something which he despised; He mingled with the low-life. John looked around for someone that was sitting along and from whom he could at least get one free drink, hoping that if the management saw John sitting around with a drink in his hand they wouldn't kick him out. He found just the man, an inebriated1379 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 looking hick sitting at the bar with several glasses lined up in front of him. Empty bar stools were on either side of the man. John walked over and sat to the left of the man. The dunk looked over at John and then went back to staring at his drink. John, desperate, took the initiative. "Hi, my name is Fred," said John, and held out his hand to shake. He didn't want to use his real name just in case he ever accidentally ran into this guy. The man slowly turned his head and looked at John, or rather, right through him, and then blinked. With a dunken smile he answered, "Ello, my name is Bob." Bob took John's hand and shook with a limb handshake. Realizing that Bob's hand was sweaty, John quickly detached his hand and wiped it on his pants. "So," asked John, trying to make some small talk. "What 'cha doing here?" It sounded colloquial enough. "Nuthin," answer Bob, who proceeded to take another sip and then set his drink down. "C'mon, you must be up t' something. Did ya have a fight with yer wife?" It was a reasonable speculation. "Naw, ain't got one. I'm just thinkin." "Oh yeah, about what?" John noticed an empty beer mug which Bob had pushed off to the side but which the bartender hadn't cleaned up yet. He slowly reached for it. "I'm not sure," slurred out Bob. "I'm juse de-ressed 'bout life." John grabbed a hold of the mug and pulled it towards him. Bob continued, "Ya know, all I do all day is work." "Don't we all," answered John. He pulled the mug up to his lips, making sure not to drink from the same side which Bob had, and pretended to take a sip. 1380 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Yeah, you know. You're right. But it's not just that," said the drunk. John pretended to take another sip, making sure that Bob saw him drinking. "I don't do shit when I'm not working. Like now, I'm just sitting here com... comp... very blitzed out of my mind." "Yeah, I know what you mean." John hated this guy. He took a fake sip and then put his drink down on the table, next to Bob's. "God am I wasted. And this is my life, and I'm very good at it." The man laughed to himself. "I'm very good at it an' I get lots 've practice." "You sure do." John had to get away from this guy. "An' this is life. Hell, what's better than gettin' sloshed every night? Nothing I tell you." "I totally agree." John turned his head. "Hey, look over there!" he said enthusiastically, and pointed to the right of Bob. John didn't actually see anything, but he wanted to divert the moron. "Wha?" Bob didn't look and turn. John tried again. "See. Man does she have the hots for you," and accentuated by pointing. This time Bob looked to his right, and away from his drink. John quickly reached, and grabbed the moron's half-full mug, and was taking a sip by the time Bob turned around. "Where?" "Over there." John pointed again. Bob took another look, but failing to see anything, returned to John, who was taking another sip. "I don't see nothin." "You don't? God I must be wasted." John tried to sound credible but couldn't.
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November 12, 2011 "Don't worry, I'm sloshed too. I wish there were a lady there though. Maybe if you wish hard enough she'll come." "Or if I get more ..." John couldn't remember the word for a second, "... biltzed." "Here's to that," answered Bob enthusiastically. He picked up his now-empty stein and clinked it against John's. Bob raised it to his lips, and tiled it back for a moment as if he were taking a big swig, even though there was nothing in there. He put the glass down and then looked at it. "God, I just finished another drink. I've gotta quit doing this." "Naw, what else is there in life?" John tried not to sound sarcastic. Bob drunkenly considered the statment for awhile. "Yeah, you know, you're right. You're absolutely right." He fished two dollars out of his pocket and put them on the table. "Hey, Bubba, get me another drink." Bubba, the bartender, came over and replace Bob's money with some more alchohol. Bob immeidately took a swig and whiped the froth off of his lips with the back of his hand. John took the opportunity to make a break, "You're so profound. Tell you what, I'm gonna go sit alone and think things over." John didn't give Bob any chance to answer or protest, but got up and took his beer over to a small table over in the corner and sat there, flinching every moment that Bob even looked in his general direction. For the next several hours, until John and Bob were both kicked out along with the rest of the crowd, he feared that Bob would take the drinking-buddy ruse too seriously and stumble over to John's table. Luckily, Bob did no such thing, and when Bubba (what a name) closed up the place three hours later, John made a hasty escape from the bar, not knowing which was worse, the ghost or Bob. John didn't even take a sip from the beer for the three hours that he was there. After he was kicked out of the bar, John briefly considered returning to his apartment but then decided that wandering around the city at night would be much safer. The worst that could happen to him in the city was that he'd be mugged, and seeing that 1382 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 he didn't have any money on him, he wouldn't be any worse. Of course, there always was the occasional murder in the city, but it was unlikely that anyone would murder John just for fun, while he knew full well that the poltergeist was out to kill him. Thugs were a safer lot to run into. Even though John wandered around the city for two hours until the sun began to creep over the horizon, he wasn't beset upon by any criminals, no matter what his mother had warned him about. And more to his relief, the ghost didn't reveal itself at all during that time. With the first light of the day appearing, John's courage picked up and he returned to his apartment. The door was slightly ajar, and must have been open all night. Pushing it open, John looked around inside. Besides the ruckus which happened while he was in bed, nothing else seemed to have been disturbed. John crept inside and cautiously looked around, almost relieved to see last-night's witnessed destruction. The dresser had moved several feet and then been toppled over, scattering everything which had been on top of it all over the room. Several small objects, including John's razor, were distributed around his bed, and on the floor. Even though John now faced a disheveled room and a few broken articles, he would rather have this than to return to a completely neat room. At least now he knew that he wasn't crazy, unless of course he had made the mess himself. Because John had to work today, he didn't bother cleaning things up, but instead put off the housework until later on in the evening. He righted the dresser, pulled out some clothes, and exchanged them for the sleeping clothes which he was wearing. John searched around for his comb, found it embedded in the wall, pulled it out, and combed his hair. He finished by cleaning his teeth, picking up his money purse, and walking out the door. He didn't realize that he'd spent five minutes in his apartment without any sign of the ghost until he'd left the place. Maybe it wouldn't come back. John wasn't willing to bet on that though. During the entire day John was exhausted and there were several times when he just wanted to lie down on the ground and sleep for a few hours, but he soon was given another task to do and didn't have any time to consider his predicament. John managed to get off of work early though, and made his way home. He stopped at the market place and found a merchant which sold religious articles, ranging from
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November 12, 2011 statues to holy writings. The man had a brass holy symbol of Thel which John bought for ten dollars and put away in his pocket. It might come on useful. John returned home and forced himself to prepare for any hauntings which might occur tonight, even though his bed was silently calling him to sit down. John was fully aware of the bed's tactics and knew that it would then convince him to abandon his sitting position and lie down, and then he'd close his eyes for just a minute, and fall gently asleep for hours. He was doing just that when Dan's knocking woke him up. Being half asleep during his conversation with Dan, he hardly remembered any of it, except that he volunteered to rescue the rat tomorrow night. Although John wasn't consciously thinking rational thoughts, he realized that he accepted the rescue because he wished to rid himself of the ghost, which he had lately been attributing to the wizard, and perhaps also because he missed teasing Roy. For a brief moment John thought about telling Dan of last night's experiences but decided on the side of caution and wanted to see if anything else would happen tonight. Once Dan left, John immediately started organizing and cleaning his room. He moved all of his furniture to their proper locations and cleaned the broken objects off of the floor. John was determined to be ready for the poltergeist if it came again, so he gathered up any throw-able or extremely lethal objects and locked them inside his closet. He gathered together enough lamp oil and candles to last him the night, sat down in his wooden chair, the most uncomfortable item of furniture in the room, and prepared to wait out the night and see if the ghost came. John spent the first part of the night trying to ascertain the answer to one simple question. Was he crazy? Even aside from last nights unreality, Dan and John were running around the city on a grand adventure which Chris had concocted and subsequently bailed out from. Chis, a person whose life-long hero was the story-book figure Derek Half-wit, had himself had freaked out and gotten smart enough to abandon his own plan. Why didn't Dan and John follow suit and likewise let the ship sink? But even worse than that, John was now being visited by a poltergeist, a creature which only existed in fairy tales. No, that wasn't entirely correct. John had met several people who considered the spirits to be real, but those very same people were inevitably lonely old coots who were obviously becoming senile and crazy. They 1384 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 were the same people who talked to their plants, thought that every natural event was an omen, and who believed that a deck of cards could predict the future. Did that make John one of them? So, a hypothetical question arose in John's mind. How could someone who might be crazy prove that he's not? That was a big problem, especially since most of the insane or "eccentric" people John had met thought that they themselves were perfectly normal, and that if anything, everyone else who didn't believe and act like themselves should be put in the nut house. The question arose again. So then how could John prove that he wasn't crazy? Maybe it was a good sign that John considered the possibility that he might be hallucinating. Crazy people don't think they're crazy. Since John thought that he might be crazy, he obviously wasn't, which meant that he didn't think that he was crazy which meant that he might be. John reconsidered his last statement and found that was circular reasoning. Do crazy people use circular reasoning? John tried to rephrase the question. How could he prove to someone else that he wasn't crazy? Easy. He just wouldn't tell them that he'd seen a ghost and they would never know. However, that wasn't good enough. Perrhaps if he somehow demonstrated the poltergeist's existence to them, meaning everyone else, then he'd be proven sane. So what was adequate proof? John had a handful of broken objects in the garbage, but these could have easily been thrown around by himself in a hysterical fit which was blacked out of his memory. Maybe someone had seen the hauntings happen, such as garbage cans flying at John in the night? John doubted that anyone witnessed the events, and even if they had seen them, the impartial witness would be immediately presumed to be in cahoots with John, or he would be considered equally whacked. To make things worse, the disturbances had stopped when John entered a crowd of people, the only way that he'd be able to conclusively prove the ghost's reality. John was fucked. He couldn't prove that he wasn't crazy, even to himself. John reconsidered telling Dan about the spirit since Dan was his closest friend and also one of the most levelheaded guys he knew. Dan would inevitably consider the possibility of John's insanity 1385 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 but he'd give his friend the benefit of the doubt. Since John had only experienced the ghost on one night, Dan would easily assume that it was all a dream. John, would gladly except this conclusion if it originated from a second source. If the hauntings happened again tonight though, especially if John stayed awake all night, then John's word might have some validity with Dan. Of course, John had no idea what good it would do to tell Dan, but he hoped that his friend would be able to think of something. A floorboard creaked. John's senses abandoned the erudite speculation and focused on reality. He looked around to see where the creak had come from and if there was anything there but couldn't see anything. The room was still empty. John sat absolutely still for about five minutes and then, after nothing else had sounded, passed it off as natural settling. If someone were to knock on the door at that moment, John would have jumped out of bed. Not having any external stimulus, John's mind returned to its self evaluation. If John weren't crazy, which he hoped his wasn't, then what caused the ghost to haunt him, and why did it do so at this point in time? The only logical explanation, if spirits obeyed such laws, was that the wizard was somehow involved, and that he had through some mechanations discovered John's existence, and was taking his revenge upon John. But how did the wizard learn about John and discover where he lived? John's first response was to finger Roy. The rat could have been captured and interrogated, which wouldn't require much more than an attentive listener to ciphen out the blabber from the important information. Roy would have readily given up John's name or address to a complete stranger. The only problem was that Roy, to John's knowledge, didn't know where John lived and only knew John's first name. He had been sure never to take Roy to his own apartment. If Roy had been interrogated and spoken about the group, then it would be more likely that Dan would get the haunting, but Dan didn't mention anything about ghosts; Maybe he was being barraged with supernatural assaults and thought that he was going crazy too. Either that, or the ghosts were somehow attracted to John. This was actually a reasonable hypothesis, since beggars and salesmen could spot John out from a crowd.
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November 12, 2011 Were there any more possibilities? Dan, John, and the other rat were followed when they left Caylan's mansion. John had seen the pursuant follow Dan and the rat. What if there was another one? John wasn't too cautious after seeing Dan being followed, so he could have easily been tailed to his apartment. The wizard wouldn't know where Dan was since Dan's spy was thrown off the trail, so if John had been followed, he would bear the entirety of the wizard's malice. Wonderful. But if the wizard wanted to have John killed, why didn't he just send some thugs to kill him? John didn't have an answer to this. And, of course, this assumed that the wizard actually had magical abilities. John had always heard of wizards holding damsels hostage and practicing arcane arts with demons and curses. Ghosts however were never mentioned in the stories, and no one that he knew had ever seen a wizard raise a demon or even cast a succesful curse. Maybe the wizards just fooled everyone into thinking they were powerful magicians and then got wealthy using their clever trickery. Maybe they could only create illusions of deamons and thereby fool people, just like stage magicians practicing card tricks, but more powerful. The poltergeist could have been an illusion and all of the damage was ultimately done by John himself in a magic induced delusion. Which, of course, meant that John was crazy. So, if one were driven to hallucinations by a wizard, was one really insane? Just then John heard the door rattle. He sat upright and listened. Two minutes later a floorboard creaked. Another one creaked in the same vicinity, and then another. It had come. Either that or the wind was blowing outside and John was so worked up that any barely-audible creak was magnified by his paranoia. Regardless of that, John had already prepared his attack plan. Relying on a story which Chris had read to him, John quietly said, "Hello? Who's there?" John didn't say 1387 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 it too loud for feat that his land-lord would hear him. Even though John doubted that talking to the ghost would work, and even questioned its existence, John hoped the plan would work. He never thought that he'd come to this, taking advice from a story written and concocted by Derek Half-wit, but it was the only way which John had heard of to get rid of a ghost. More floorboards gave way and creaked. John continued to follow the story line as he rememberd it. "You're not real! I don't believe in you!" This time he said it loud enough that his landlord would hear it. The volume didn't work, but it did produce a respone. John's dresser slid across the floor about a meter. He pulled out the next trick, "Why are you haunting me? Can you talk?" Who knows. It might work. The dresser continued on its arduous trek across the floor, generating a venemous wailing as its legs scraped groves into the floor. Seeing as intellectual conversation with the spirit had failed, John gave one final try at communication. "Go away! Get out of here! You're not wanted!" If John just wandered around the streets yelling that and perhaps shaking his hands, he'd look just like the psychos he so-much despised. Oddly enough, the poltergeist didn't seem to like being commanded around. John's bed began to shake in a slow rocking motion which gradually accelerated into the rocking of a torrential sea and nearly tipped over a few times. John's chair follow suit and and dumped John onto the floor. The lights flickered out. Fuck! Having tried and failed at all of his previous plans, John grew desperate and pulled out the holy symbol of Thel, a metal circle with short spikes protruding radially out of the circle, and idealized version of the sun. John held up this relic blindly in front of 1388 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 him and waved it around making sure that the ghost would see the symbol and leave. Did ghosts see? Especially in the dark? Everything suddenly grew quiet. John waited, still waving the sun-symbol about. Suddenly something, probably a blanket or pillow case, was pulled over John's head and wrapped tightly around his neck. John instantly reacted and started to free himself. He first got his fingers underneath the sheet which was constricting around his neck and tugged outward until he had added up some slack to the noose and was capable of breathing. Something was wrapping itself around John's ankles but he ignored it because of the more pressing business at hand. John loosened the nose even more and then began pulling it up over his head. He got it as far as his mouth before it started tightening again and John was forced to spend more effort loosening the bonds, but once he had done so he threw it off his head. Just as he did so, his feet were yanked from underneath him. John fell backwards and landed on his back. The ghost, having tied something around John's ankles, lifted John's feet off of the ground by the bonds. His hips, back, head, and arms followed one another, until John was suspended from the ceiling. He bent up and tried to untie his feet but failed to loosen the bonds. Having nothing to cut the sheets with but the holy symbol, John used its edges to tear away at the cloth. He released he left foot first, his right, and then fell to the floor. John went unconscious.
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November 12, 2011
CHAPTER 30: BUGBUG
Dan was woken up by something, porbably a sound, but he didn't know exactly what. He only remembered the lingering sensation of something happening in his room, captured by his subconscious, and causing him to wake. The room was quiet and dark. Through the moonlight's shadows Dan could decipher the bed's edge, dresser, and window. Nothing seemed to be happening inside, and while some shouting in the street comonly woke him in the night, he didn't hear any lingerings of the yelling. What had awaken him? Dan didn't think it was a sound since he didn't remember any trailing shouting or bumping when he woke up. It definately wasn't a nightmare, since he didn't remeber anything and he hadn't had one of those since he was a child. Dan knew that it wasn't even a bad dream since he almost never had any dreams. What was it then? Probably nothing. Forgetting about the imagined disturbance, Dan let himself nod back asleep, but instantly reawakened when he felt his sheets move. He sat there, absolutely still, and wondered what it was. The sheets moved again a few seconds later, like some small animal had nestled under the sheets and was now crawling to a more comfortable spot. The creature, probably a cat from it's size, moved closer to Dan's legs because he could feel the sheets ripple and pull around his feet. Dan briefly wondered if it was Ted trying to crawl underneath the sheets, but then decided against that because Ted was much larger. However, the Remozsh may have let a cat into the apartment for some unknown reason. Not wishing to sleep with an animal, cat or not, Dan leapt out of bed. Because he could only barely discern a bulge in the sheets with the existing light, Dan fumbled around for a flint and lit a candle. It illuminated a cat-sized bulge which sat in the middle of the bed and which moved slightly when the light turned on. Although he wasn't as inhumane as John, Dan decided to get rid of the cat. He lifted the sheets 1390 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and doubled them over towards the foot of the bed in order to expose the freeloading animal, but nothing was there. Huh? The region of the bed where the bulge had been, now stood empty. Where did it go? Dan pulled the sheets off of his bead and spread them on the floor just in case the creature had somehow hidden within the folds of the fabric. The sheets were both empty and too light to be carrying a sequestered cat. Dan pondering the mysteries of the vanished animal for a moment, staring at the sheets laid out on the floor, and then noticed taht the bulge reappeared and skittered about, never leaving the confines of the sheets and exposing itself. Within a few seconds another bulge popped up and began running back and forth with the first, like two kittens playing tag under a blanket. A third bulge-kitten appeared somewhere amidst the confusion generated by the first two, and then a fourth, fifth, and more materialized until the sheets were boiling with activity. Huh? Dan wondered if he might be dreaming but Dan didn't know what he should do about it. Suddenly, the sheets lifted off the ground and flew at Dan. Failing a sluggish effort to dodge the sheets, Dan resorted to pulling them off himself. While he wrestled with the white sheets, sticking to him as if a fierce wind were pushing them into him, Dan was forced to conclude that he was having a nightmare. This premonition was accentuated when, as soon as Dan pried off one fo the sheets from himself and started on the second, the first would fly back and suction itself to Dan in some new place. Although it was an odd thought, Dan compared this experience to his two younger cousines, who would plague him with the same wrestling techniques. Dan would push one off, deal with the other, and have to returned to the first, who had already redoubled his efforts. While Dan become more frustrated with the sheets, they began to wrap and wind around his body, becoming more twisted and cord-like with each rotation, almost 1391 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 like boa constrictors fashioned from linen. Even though Dan pulled and tugged at the coils, he could never manage to get more than one end of a linen snake free at a time, and with two of them coiling around his trunk, three ends continually remained firmly attached. During Dan's struggles, the coils slowly diverged paths. One made its way for Dan's feet and constricted his legs together as it slithered down. The other, which occupied more of Dan's time, crept up Dan's chest, circumnavigated Dan's shoulders and arms, and ultimately found its home around his neck. As it tightened around his neck, Dan desperately worked at uncoiling the noose but couldn't overwhelm the sheet's strength or gain enough leverage to remove it completely. Breathing became difficult. And the constriction became intense. Dan could feel his face turning red - Or was it purple? - because of the noose. Dan couldn't breath. His vision started to fade, beginning with one dark splotch, and then followed many more which danced around Dan's vision until he lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 31: BUGBUG
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November 12, 2011 Shaj too had a nighmare. He lowered himself down the last of meters of the rope, and when his feet were just dangling above the ground, let go and landed on his feet. Although Shaj had just climbed down the full length of the air shaft, he didn't feel the least bit tired. Of course, having climbed down the shaft so much over the last week, he must be getting used to it by now. His hands didn't even hurt. Shaj looked up at the small hole of light where the air shaft released into the room above and wondered once again why there was a room up there instead of the open sky. Some humans must have climbed down into the warren years ago, decided to use it for their own, and defiled it in the process. Shaj wished that he could kill whomever had touched his ancestral city but suspected that their bones had long ago been eatern bare. But Shaj put aside his anger for now because he still had his task to complete and revenge was not appropriate at the moment. Shashevaj resumed on his search of the acnestral warren and walked through the air shaft's opening into the common room. It had been enlarged by the Humans also. Once in the hemi-spherical room, the seating pit, smells, shapes, and engravings poignantly reminded Shaj of the home which had had left and temporarily forsaken in order to find this place. He had not just given up a house, which was nothing more than a construction, but the family, personalities, and memories which made it a home. Shaj badly longed to return and escape from the maze of buildings, to feel safe and to be among friends. Perhaps soon he'd be able to take the return journey and never agin be forced back into the nest of Humans. After discovering this find, he'd be allowed to claim his wife, settle down in a comfortable hill, and enjoy the natural world. However, he could only morally return after he'd avenged Mike's murder. But tonight, Mike was far removed from Shaj's mind, barred from entry by the homely surroundings of the warren, a place where Mike had never been. Shaj had thought about taking Mike to his home, but every year found plenty of reasons to avoid it, mainly because Shaj didn't think that his family would understand the debt which Shaj owed to Mike. It was too late now. All that Shaj could do was remember.
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November 12, 2011 Trying to push his thoughts about Mike aside for the moment, Shaj examined the entrances to the room for some hint of the arterial passage beyond. From time to time he would glance up at the glowing eagle reliefs and marvel at their artistry, especially how they seemed to rearrange themselves every time that Shaj took another glance. This, in addition to the dim yellow glow which the reliefs emitted was odd, but somehow it all seemed to make sense. Shaj didn't pay any more attention but returned to examining the exits. There were six passages out of the common room, evenly ditributed along the wall. All five would have to be investigated. Five? Shaj thought there were six. He recounted the hallways and found seven. Seven? Concluding that the room was getting more and more unusual all of the time, Shaj decided to ignore the actual number of exits, since the value was imamterial, and determined that he'd have to check them all, no matter how many there were. One of them must lead to the arterial tunnel. The first passage to the left of the air shaft was the obvious starting position, so Shashevaj picked up his torch, passed through the small passage, and walked into a large room with jug-bearing shelves chiseled out of the rock. Larger urns lay around, many of them shattered, probably by humans. Shaj couldn't see any signs of the ancient food which had been stored away in the earthen pots. Unfortunately, this was only a storage room. Shaj returned to the main chamber and tried the next exit, walking down another short passage, this one with a ninety degree turn in the middle, and entered a sleeping chamber. The floor was bowed upwards about a meter so that the center of the room was higheer than the edges, a perfect spot for sleeping. The bed support and mattress were missing, again, stolen by humans. They not only stole the aboveground, but looted what was below. One day, soon, the Ferazi would get their revenge. Again, Shashevaj left the bedroom and tried the next exit. This time his hopes were raised when he was forced to walk down a long ascending hallway, but his hopes fled when the hall made an abrupt turn to the left, went on a bit further, and opened up into another looted bedroom. Still persevering, though, Shaj walked all of the way back to the hemispherical chamber.
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November 12, 2011 The next exit which Shaj entered traveled radially outward for some distance and then branched off into even more passages providing Shashevaj with a baffling array of choices. He wished that he'd learned more about the warrens of the Eagle Tribe and how they were arranged, but unfortunately they had moved further to the north than Shaj's tribe. Perhaps if they hadn't, he'd be able to decipher the unusual maze of hallways, none of which appeared to lead out of the family dwelling. If this were a warren from his own tribe, Shaj would be able to identify which passed lead into the general warren tunnels and then to the surface. One of these even connected between the Eagle clan and others, forming the central roadway which would lead throughout then entire city of the Eagle. But where was it? Shaj abandoned his methodical search pattern and began to enter and leave passages using his intuition, usually a much better way of making a decision. Rather than the entry passage which he sought however, Shaj only found more communal chambers, bedrooms, storage rooms, air vents, and dining chambers, even though many hallways had the allure and signs of an exit, upward sloping and large. But they all recanted their lie once Shaj had travelled some distance up them. After long hours of searching Shaj spotted a light at the end of a passage, something unusual for a warren deserted more than a millennium ago, and a light inevitably created by some human sacriledge. Shaj suspected that one or more humans was using the Ferazi dwelling as a criminal hideout, and had lit a fire or torch down below. He peered at the small spot of light as he crept forward, sneaking as silently as possible. When he got within about twently meters of the light, he realized that it was reflecting off of a wall, and was actually coming from someplace around the bend in the tunnel. Carrying only a torch for his weapon, and without any armor, Shashevaj maneuvered around the bend in order to get a hidden view of the perpetrators and form an attack plan. But when he looked around the corner he only saw one human carrying a lantern and no weapons on his side. The man was walking along the passage and examining the walls, ir-respectful of its rightful owners. The human saw him and Shaj knew that he must react quickly. Shaj's hairs bristled as he prepared to launch himself at the perpetrator. "Hey Shaj!" greeted Mike. The Ferazi froze in a crouched positioned, looked, and listened. It was Mike! But Mike was dead. Shaj himself had carried Mike's broken body away from these tunnels and 1395 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 buried it. He even had proof. Shaj grabbed the bone hanging on the chain around his neck and looked at it. Not knowing what to do, but suspecting that some sort of magic was being used, Shaj turned around and bolted down the hall, or at least tried to. Under normal circumstances, a few heaves of his legs and Shaj would have been propelled forward at blurring velocities, but now Shaj felt the air become as thick as water. Every push of his legs moved him only about a meter forward before he slowed down to a turtle's pace again. Shaj exerted all his effort to move, but the faster that he tried to run, the less effective his effort. Had some spell been cast upon him? Had Shaj escaped? Was he being chased? Shaj didn't dare look back but continued to run through the viscous air as quickly as he could. In time, much longer than he had expected, Shaj slogged his way through the viscous air and re-entered the branching-tunnel passage. He ran, still at a dragging speed, down the hallway into what should have been the common room containing the air shaft which he had climbed down, but he couldn't see the vent shaft. There were now only four exits out of the chamber that he was in, and there had been seven before. Or was it six? Not having time to worry about the inconsistency of tunnels, Shaj made a quick run through the room looking for a viable hallway but found none. Since Shaj had a ghost in pursuit of him, he took the closest one, and ran down it as quickly as the unnatural air would allow him. He ran down any side passages that appeared promising or which might aid his escape. After a time, Shaj got himself completely lost, without any familiar scenery or marks to show him where he was. He didn't even remember how he had gotten into the room. Shaj slowed down to look around to see if the ghost was still following him, but it wasn't. He took a moment to think. If it was Mike's ghost back there then the ghost wouldn't hurt him. But how could Shaj tell? He had never studied shamanism and had no clue. He did know that the apparition might be mimicking Mike's voice and apopearance in order to trick Shashevaj. If it were, for some reason, determined to harm the Ferazi, then Shaj would have to find his way out of the dwelling and outside into the sun to escape, if he could escape. Shaj would have to backtrack and start a more tempered search of the exit rather than wildly bolting around in hope of finding it. 1396 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shaj turned around and started on his way back, or at least the direction which he thought that he had come from, but stopped suddenly when a bright light flared up in front of him. Even though he could see that the brilliance was smaller than himself, the rays seemed to envelope and cradle him. Shaj stood motionless and stared as the fiery orb transformed and sprouted buds from its side, which, through the course of flickering and dancing, slowly grew into the semblances of arms, legs, and a head, although they were not so well defined as to merit joints and fixed lengths. Was this the ghost that was mimicking Mike? Shaj, at an urging welling up from the back of his mind, tried to bolt away from the spirit, but was held enchanted by the light, whose brilliance enshrouded his mind and excluded all thoughts of the exterior world. Only the light existed. The Ferazi couldn't, and wouldn't, try to escape. He merely watched the illumination and studied its brilliantly obscured features. The head was an attached orb of glowing plasma, containing ill-defined and hazy borders which rolled around as if stretching on an overly-flexible neck. The arms and legs likewise had no edges, and existed as an illuminated body of smoke. Once again, Shaj reminded himself that he should run, but he almost enjoyed the light and mind-numbing pleasure which came from the light. Shaj watched the final metamorphasis of the spirit as the arms stretched and waved, and the legs planted themselves firmly on the ground. Once the limbs had ceased to emerge, the light's color changed. It had been slightly pink before, but the hue shifted to a cool blue, and then oddly, Shaj perceived the color shifting to black, even though the light stood brightly before him. How could light be black? It didn't matter. It merely was. The being then seemed to rear up and enlarge. It's demeanor changed, something in its stance, and Shaj sensed malice. His subconscious warning finally got loud enough and Shashevaj shook off the trance. He turned tail and bolted away from the spirit at full speed, never daring to look behind him. Although Shaj's could only run at a water-logged trot, he managed to escape from the spirit by heedlessly running into and through several passages and rooms. The glow from behind the Ferazi slowly faded as he escaped.
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November 12, 2011 Just when Shashevaj thought that he had escaped the spirit though, he ran into another room and stopped dead. Before him stood Mike's ghost. Was it the light creature? Mike pointed past the terrified Ferazi and spoke, "The wizard sent it after you. We've got to kill it." Shaj perceieved that something thing was wrong, and it wasn't just that he was talking to a dead friend in the ancient city of the Eagle, and it wasn't because Shaj was being chanced by a glowing deamon. Mike was speaking in Shaj's native language, something which Shaj had never taught to Mike. In fact, no one ever had since it was forbidden to teach non-Ferazi any part of the language. So how did Mike learn Ferazi? The glow returned as the demon approached from behind. Mike pulled out a sword from somewhere. "Here, take this," he said in Ferazi again, and tossed Shaj the sword. The Ferazi cought the sword by its hilt and marvelled at what he saw. The ivory hilt, which was designed for the Ferazi hand, had a long jadecolored blade. Where did Mike get this sword? It seemed familiar to Shashevaj. Someplace he had either seen or heard of a jade sword, Where? Shaj remembered that had heard of it in Ferazi legend although he couldn't recall whose sword it was. Where did Mike get the sword from? How did he know about the Ferazi mythologies? Shaj's shadow grew as the light approached from behind. Wondering if he was somehow mistaken about Mike's death, Shaj asked, "You're not dead?" He forgot to speak the human language. Mike seemed to ignore the question and pulled his friend back to reality, if this were reality. "We've got t' get this thing. Stand on that side of the passage." Mike pointed to the right side of the room, to which Shaj ran and positioned himself flat against the wall. Mike went to the other side and pulled out a jade dagger. "Remember. Don't look into the light," Mike warned Shaj. 1398 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The two stood, backs against the wall, with the room's entrance between them, and watched. The rectangular entrace to the room stenciled the light emitted from the creature onto the opposite wall. As the demon approached, the light shadow grew in size and bounced with every footstep of the creature. Mike whispered, "Watch the shadows and you'll know where it is. Swing at it when it's close enough. Remember, don't look at it!" Shaj watched as the light gradually crawled across the opposite wall and then spread over the two neighboring walls of the room. Although he was a trained fighter and used to combat, Shaj felt scared, but there was no place to run. He looked down at his sword hand and saw some of his fur illuminated by the demon's daark light. Shaj averted his eyes to the wall to his right, watching as the light slowly crept towards him along the wall, and tensing up when when his own shadow gradually took shape the wall to his right. Shaj's waited until his shadow became well defined, when the deamon had entered the room, and then blindly struck to his left. The sword blade, swung by his left hand, flew into the unseen light, slowed down momentarily as it seemed to pass through the demon's ether, and then continued its course, pulling Shaj's arm into the corner of the doorway. The shock of hitting his arm against the wall caused his hand to loosen its grip and left the sword go flying into the hallway. He heard the sword land with a clatter several meters up the hall. Something behind him grabbed Shashevaj and elevated him off the ground. He could see beams of light wrapped around his wrist and legs, and his floating shadow against the wall. He managed to restrain himself from looking over his shoulder. The demon lifted Shaj a full three meters off of the ground and then threw him into the wall. Shaj hit, slid down, and lay in a heap for a few seconds while he recovered. Stupidly, he took a look around for his sword and ending up staring right into the light. Instantly, as before, Shaj was transfixed by the purity of the light and the way it enveloped his consciousness, releasing, or perhaps rending, his mind from his body. He felt paralysis overtake his body while his mind debated whether it should return to its body. 1399 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shaj didn't manage to overpower the hypnotism. He saw only the approaching light and the darkness against which it was placed. Nothing else existed but it, except what was within it. Or, if there were a universe outside of it, a universe which Shaj had dwelled within until this epiphany, the universe was only a phantasm of smoke upon which light shows were played. The light, although it appeared to be finite, was everywhere and all consuming. The light came closer, but the transfixed Ferazi continued to stare. Shaj continued to stare into the light and glimpsed something beyond or within it. The birlliance escaping from this spirit had only appeared as a solid mass of light because Shaj's senses were too used to the dim candles which had previously illuminated the world. The universe which Shaj now percieved within the light was infintely more profound and copious. Shaj watched, perhaps mournfully, as Mike's shadow entered the scene and crept up behind the light. Shaj didn't know what Mike was doing and didn't really care, but continued to immerse himself in the radiant beauty of the other world, the real one, which was funneled through this savior creature. It was full of peace and quiet, and home. Shaj watched as Mike stabbed the world in the back and gasped as it exploded radially away from the knife-point into splashes of light. The fragments fled in all directions, fading as they sped along. Most of them were gone before they reached the room's wall. Those that still had light enough to be seen retreated into the wall and disappeared. One ray sped directly towards Shashevaj and went through him, leaving a palette of eerie thoughts and memories in his mind which flickered for a second and then fled. Mike walked up to Shaj and extended a hand. Shaj gladly accepted and used it to hoist himself up. Mike smiled and then Ferazi returned one in recognition. As Shaj stared at his friend a flood of questions erupted into his mind, but before he could even release one word, the world began to fade and he felt himself waking up. Shashevaj woke up just before dawn. He was lying in the corner of his room across from his bed, which was now broken in two. The wall above him had a large dent in 1400 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 it. Shaj didn't move for an hour because of the pain in his neck, shoulder, and arm where he guessed that he had hit the wall.
CHAPTER 32: BUGBUG
Dan regained consciousness, and wondered what had happened. The last thing that he could recall was a beserk bedsheet straingling him, and now he was looking up at the ceiling. A light was on somewhere in the room Suddenly, something tugged at his neck. Fuck! They weren't gone. The sheet-snake tugged at his throat as it slithered around it, tightening its hold. With more alacrity than was usual for him, Dan grabbed the creature and tossed it as far as possible. When Dan ripped free the coiled sheet, his head lifted for a moment while the coiling serpent unwound from his neck, but then once released, his head hit the ground with a thud. Ouch! "Hey, watch it," cried out Ted's voice from nearby. Dan, still lying on his back, turned his head and saw Ted kneeling next to him. "I was just pullin' it off ya. Ya didn't need ta tear 't off." "But it was strangling me," was Dan's only excuse.
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November 12, 2011 "One got me too. But it stopped about a minute ago. I got out 've tha closet and saw you lyin' on tha ground with 't 'round yer neck." "Oh," said Dan. Were the sheets still moving? Dan tried to lift his head but gave up. "Are they still moving." Ted looked around. "Nope." "Good. I'm gonna lay here awhile and then find the others." Dan, along with Shashevaj and John didn't get out until after the sun was well above the rooftops.
CHAPTER 33: BUGBUG
Humans, Shaj thought, were a plague of locusts upon the land, an army which flew in from the east two thousand years ago and expelled Shaj's ancestors from their homes. And, just like a plague, they proceeded to ravage and destroy the land, crawling over one another in their frenzy to feast on the most succulent shoots, reproducing in gluttonous ecstasy, and constructing overcrowded hives to hold their progeny. But, one day their appetites would cause them to consume themselves, and Shashevaj's people would return to their city and tear down the maze which the locusts had inflicted upon the land. Such was Shajevaj's mission.
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November 12, 2011 It was four years ago that Shaj arrived in Human Inviroth to rediscover the real city wich lie beneath, the one which had supported and cradled Shaj's ancestors since the beginning of time. With the support of the Aliari, Shashevaj had managed to acquire a dwelling and begin his search for traces of the old city that had been buried when the humans first arrived. He had actually done fairly well, and discovered several residual tunnels but all of them were isolated from the rest of the city by immobile quantities of masonry or fill which would have taken Shaj years to excavate by himself. Shaj had spent his waking hours in his quest to discover the tunnels beneath the city so that the Ferazi could vanquish the humans. But then, two years ago, something happened to alter Shaj's plans. He was assaulted and nearly murdered by human thugs, just like the ones which he had recently taken revenge upon. Unfortunately, two years ago Shaj was without a weapon, so he was quickly overpowered, badly beaten, and then left dying. The humans didn't even consider it worth the effort to kill him, so sure were thay that Shaj would bleed to death. Shaj would have died, and fully expected to while he noticed his body weaklen and his vision faded. However, instead of waking up with his ancestors, Shaj found himself lying on a bed, covered by several warm blankets and with a pillow propped up underneath his head. Seeing a human standing by the bedside, Shaj attempted to get up and either attack his captor or escape, but couldn't do either because of the wounds he had taken, and was instead forced to lie helpless in bed. Shaj spent the next month lying defenseless in the bed, under the care of the enemy. The human, Mike, out of the thousands which the Ferazi must have passed every day, was the only one who had ever been friendly or even helpful to Shaj. Mike was also the only human friend Shaj had ever known, or ever would know. Even his current human compatriots Dan and John would leave Shaj dead if they could thought that they could getaway with it, so ruthless were humans to other races. Shaj eventually learned that Mike had found him bleeding and nearly dead in an alley, only a few blocks from Mike's apartment. Out of both curiosity and compassion, Mike carried Shaj to Mike's room and placed Shaj on his bed. Mike then sewed and bandaged his future friend up, and spent the next month caring for the convalescent Ferazi. During that time the two became friends, Shaj overcoming his 1403 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 mistrust and hatred enough to feel a debt of gratitude, and Mike willing to pass over the Ferazi's peculiarities. But Mike was dead now. Over the two years that he knew him, Shashevaj spent many nights coversing with Mike, usually meeting in seclusion once a week because Shaj was afraid of the racial backlash against Mike, who, of course, shrugged it off and didn't care if he were seen with a "roo." Often the discussions were in Shaj's apartment, but sometimes the two would rendezvous outside of the city and spend the day exploring the countryside. Even though the two travelled fairly far, Shaj never ended up taking Mike to his temporary home near the Southern Rift Mountains because he too was afraid of what his family would say about a Human friendship, about an enemy friendship. He regretted that decision now. While the two were together, either sitting in a room or meanering through the woords, Mike would do most of the talking, asking almost all of the questions. Shaj would answer, and occasionally throw his own question back, but usually ran out of them long before Mike had. Mike would probe into things which Shashevaj had never considered significant, and which he certainly wouldn't have bothered asking to Mike, but which returned surprising replies. Where do you live? What do you do? What do you think of your parents? What do you dream? Where do you want to be? Why do you do what you do? What do you eat? What do you see? That was a good one. When Mike asked, "What do you see?" Shaj didn't know how to respond since the answer was obvious. Shaj answered, "I see what I see, just like everyone else." That, at least, was what Shaj had meant to say. Because of the complexity and exceptions in the human language, it came out sounding like, "Zee vut zee I. Everyone tha zame." Mike usually understood what Shaj meant, regardless of his poor dictation in the foreign langauage. But then, Mike started to probe more and through his questions Shaj began to see the complexity of the problem and the problem of assumptions. "Are your sure?" 1404 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Mike pulled out a black pen from on top of his dresser. He held it up. "Can you see this?" "Yes, of course." "Now hold your head and eyes, perfectly still, looking straight at the bed post." "Why?" "You'll see," said Mike with a grin. Shaj stared at the bed-post. Mike got up and walked around around the room, occasionally holding up the pen and asking, "Can you see it here?" "Yes", answered Shaj most of the time, except when mike walked behind him. "Mike walked back and sat down on the bed. You see, you do see different things than I do. You just saw all around your head except for the very back. You can see about three quarters of the room without turning your head or moving your eyes." "I know that. What's so unusual about that?" "I can only see half. My vision stops right over here..." Mike rotated the pen around his head until his arm was extended all of the way to the right, and said, "It stop's here. I can only see about half of the room without moving my head." Although it now seemed obvious to Shaj, he had never thought of the differences in vision before, and didn't know that humans couldn't see as much. It wasn't a very great leap to make, but he never had any need to consider the problem before, so he never realized the difference and always assumed that Humans saw exactly the same as he did. About a week later, when Mike and Shaj next met, Mike had brought in three small cans of paint, a brush, and a piece of wood. He painted three stripes on the wood, each one using a different color from the paint. Mike then asked, "What colors do you see?" 1405 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 To Shaj it seemed a stupid question, but after the previous weeks revelation he wondered if Mike were able to see the same colors. "I see red, and then yellow, and then blue." "Yep, that's what I see. Now if I mix the red and the yellow together, then what color does it make?" Mike proceeded to mix the red and yellow, and they formed orange. "Orange." "Me to. Now what about the yellow and blue?" "Green" Mike then painted a stripe of red to the right of the blue. He mixed the red and blue together. "And what do you see now?" "Black" "Ah ha! I see purple." Shaj didn't believe him. "No you don't. It's black." Mike was unable to convince Shaj that it was "purple", whatever that color was. Just to prove himself, Mike brought in the same cans of paint next time, along with a can of black. He had painted the piece of wood entirely black. "What color is this wood painted?" "Black." "I've painted it purple. Since you don't believe me, I've brought in black paint." Mike opened up the can and painted a stripe onto the board. It was the same black as was alreaedy painted on the board. The only way that Shaj could tell that Mike had painted anything was because of the gloss of the wet paint. "They're both black," answered Shaj.
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November 12, 2011 "That's what you see. I'm gonna let this dry for a few minutes. I'll see if you can point out where the black line is." The two spent about ten minutes talking about something which Shaj couldn't remember anymore. But he did remember that ten minutes later. "Can you point out the black line which I just painted?" asked Mike. "No, it's all black." "Ah, but it isn't. The black line is here." Mike pointed to a vertical portion of the board which was just as black as the rest. This, however, still didn't convince Shaj. "I can't see it, but that doesn't mean that you can. You could be pointing to anything." "Okay then," answered Mike, "Here's the black paint. You paint some sort of symbol or picture on the board. After ten minutes it'll be dry. If I can't see purple, then I won't be able to tell you what symbol you painted, but if purple exists then I'll be able to tell you." That sounded reasonable to Shaj, but he wanted to make sure that Mike wasn't pulling any kind of prank. "That sounds reasonable. But, you've got to go outside while I paint so that I know that you can't peak." "Sure," Mike walked to the door. "Just call me when I can come in." Mike walked outside and closed the door. Shaj took a second to figure out what to paint, and then decided upon a circle within a circle. He hid the board underneath the bed and then let Mike in. Ten minutes later, he pulled out the board and handed it to Mike. "What do you see?" asked Shaj, who couldn't see anything but black. "Over here's the line that I painted." Mike pointed that out, and then his finger moved to the right. "There are two circles, one inside of the other." Mike's fingers traced the circles onto the black board, in exactly the right place and size. 1407 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Shaj was amazed that there was such a color as purple and was almost frightened by the fact that he couldn't see it. He wondered what else Mike could see which Shaj couldn't? And what could he see that Mike couldn't? The two did several other experiments with vision but didn't come up with any more startling revelations. Looking back, Shaj wondered if there were other differences between what Humans and Ferazi saw, or perceived. If Mike were alive now, Shaj would ask Mike if what Human dreams were like, and if they were any different from Ferazi's. Shaj wished that he'd asked more questions. Once, Shaj actually thought of a question on par with Mike's color "purple". During a rendevous outside of the city, he brought in his Reshev and showed Mike the musical instrument. Mike was instantly enthralled by the instrument and made Shaj play it. When he had finished with a piece or two, Shaj began to ask his questions and played varieties of musical passages to see what Mike heard, and just like the vision question, asked about the differences and combinations of notes. Whereas Shaj couldn't see "purple," his friend was unable to distinguish differences between nearby pitches or hear the quality differences of strings plucked in different points along the finger board. Later on, Shaj continued his musical investigations with Mike by attempting to teach him music, but was unable to succede. Mike couldn't recognize the "colors" of music well enough to play, or even appreciate music. After that demonstration, Shashevaj didn't mind not seeing "purple" so much since he was able to hear vastly more colors than Mike had ever seen. But a few stealthily attained hours locked away in rooms discussing esoteric subjects weren't all that Shaj and Mike would use to share their friendship. Mike, being given a day off from work once a week, would escape from the city and meet Shaj a few miles from the metropolis wall, next to a spring-fed pool surrounded by dense forests which Shaj had discovered. From there, the two would begin their day-long adventure in the wilderness and take any direction which their whims requested, unworried about being seen, much less recognized. While Humans were numerous, they tended to pack themselves tightly onto the small portions of land upon which their cities rested, and only a very few lived outside of Human "civilization", even if it only were two hour's travel from the sprawling hub. Although Shaj still felt that he was too close to the city, he was far enough away that it no longer bore down upon 1408 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 his mind, and as far as Mike was concerned, this was the wilderness. Mike had never been far from the city. Shaj needed to escape from the urban maze in order to maintain his sanity, to prevent the claustrophobia which gradually overtook him as the throngs of Humans surrounded and squelched him, and to release the tension which built up from living within the enemy's walls. Mike too seemed to enjoy the natural settings, though he didn't whole-heatedly agree with Shaj's feelings, but was more inclined to consider his weekend travels a temporary escape, and a prelude to a more permanent escape from the predictable city life. Mike eventually planned to leave Inviroth and see the world. During his escapes, Mike would discuss his plans with Shaj as they hiked through the hills and past the small hamlets hidden within them. He had a thousand unseen places to visit, the Fafar Forest, the Great Rift Mountains, the deserts in the south, the eastern empire, the Wizards' magical city of XXX, the golden temples of XXX, and even the Ferazi kingdoms, all of which were yet stories expounded by merchants and travelers, but which Mike had to prove real to himself. Although the walks nearby Inviroth were but tiny prequils to his great journeys of the future, he always induced the marvels of the future from the surfaces of the local geography and people. "Look at the rocks jutting from that hillside," Mike would point out. "I bet XXX is just like that except hundreds of times larger. Can't you just see it?" No. Shaj couldn't see what Mike did. He saw only a hill. Mike desired to see more than just the hills and rivers of a place, but wanted to meet its inhabitants and talk to them. Shaj, not understanding, asked Mike why he was required to journey all over the world in order to meet people when he had swarms of them in Inviroth. Mike nodded his head, "Because they're all different." "I don't understand," answered Shaj bewildered. All humans seemed to be exactly alike to him, except Mike.
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November 12, 2011 "Come one, haven't you noticed? They all have different personalities... different customs... and ways of dressing. And they all talk differently to... A man from the east might say, 'Haello, how er ya?' Plus, they all have different ways of making a living. Some do fishing, and others mining, or farming." Shaj had never noticed this. "You're making that up." "No, I'm not, honest. Hell, even people living in the cities have difference. Did you ever notice that those from the north end dress and talk differently from their southern people?" "No." "The do. Just watch next time. They even have different answers from the south siders. Like if you ask them, 'How's the weather?' they give a different answer." "But how can they be so different when they live so close to one another?" "You know Shaj, I don't know. But the differences within the city aren't that great, but the further away they get, the more different they are... Hey, I got one, how's this for a cool one, 'Culture forms the subtle hues in an enormous tapestry of humanity.'?" It took Mike several more times to explain that one do Shaj before he finally understood. But of course, as Mike had pointed out, Shaj couldn't notice as many colors as the Humans could. "Hey, but don't you have any differences from place to place? I mean, are all Ferazi the same?" "Yes, there are different clans which all have their own ways of living." Shaj had never considered the possibility that humans would be the same way. He hadn't noticed the subtle variations in humans and perceived all Humans to be identical in appearance and action, Mike excepted. Even now, a year after the revelation, Shashevaj still found it impossible to identify a local Human from a traveler.
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November 12, 2011 One day not too long after, Shashevaj asked Mike why he was still waiting around in Inviroth, and why he didn't begin his future now and leave Inviroth immediately. "Well, I don't make enough at work, so I don't have enough money to pay for my journey." That didn't make any sense to Shaj. "But you said that you wanted to travel around the wilderness and live off your wits. That doesn't require any money and only a needs good knowledge of nature." "But even if I walk, I still need a place to stay and food to eat." "No you don't. All you need to know is what berries and roots are safe to eat. I survived alone for months in the Fafar forest without any forest or person to help." "I'm sorry, but I can't live off of those. I need to eat meat, and that requires a bow and arrows for hunting." "I survive perfectly well without any carion. You can too." "No I can't." "Have you ever tried?" "No, but all humans eat meat." "So then why don't you try?" "I've heard of people starving to death if they haven't eaten any. Humans are different than Ferazi." "I don't believe you. Either way, you can buy a bow and arrows for a few hundred dollars." "But life isn't that simple. I also need clothes and shelter, and if I'm ever going to get across the sea, then I need money to pay for a ship ride."
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November 12, 2011 "Clothes don't need replacement very often. What I'm wearing now is three years old. Shelter is only necessary in the cold of winter. All of the other times you have your fur... well your clothes. And you only have to get across the sea once." "Shaj, it's not that simple. Even if I did have enough money now, I'd eventually run out and then I'd be stuck." "But you can work. How much does it cost for clothes? One hundred dollars? How long will it take you to earn that? How much is a ship? You can spend a few days working for someone and then pay for the ship, no problem." "But..." "If you need shelter while you're travelling, you can sleep under a tree, or hide in a barn. I've done that several times and I'm a Ferazi - The farmer would try to kill me if he found me. Or you can work for a few hours in order to earn shelter. What then?" "It doesn't work that way. If things were that simple then there'd be thousands of people wandering around like that, and there aren't." "How do you know?" "I would've heard of them." So, no matter how much Shaj showed otherwise, Mike continued to insist that he needed money in order to leave the city and travel, even after Shaj had shown Mike all off the edible plants, places to sleep, wood to make bows and arrows from, and ways to build rafts. Since Mike would never travel without money, Shaj changed his tact somewhat and asked, "Why don't you just save the money that you earn from work?" "They don't pay bme enough. I can barely survive on what I get now." "Then why don't you borrow money?" "From who?" Shaj considered that a strange answer, "From your family of course." 1412 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "I can't. My parents don't earn that much money, and even if they did, they'd never approve of my travelling." "What about your friends?" Mike looked puzzled for a moment. "No, I can't do that. You can borrow a few dollars from your friends, but you can't get the money that I need. I don't even think that any of 'em have that much." "But why not borrow money from any cousins or aunts?" asked Shaj. "Yeah right. I haven't seen them 'n years. I'm a stranger t' them." "But they're your family. Family always help one another out," replied Shaj. "Nope, not here. Humans are different. Family doesn't mean 'z much and they aren't 'z close. I don't know about you, but I'm lucky that I can speak with my sister, and that I get along with my parents. Some people I know don't even have that." Shaj didn't understand then, and still didn't now. Stability and safety couldn't exist without a close family. However, if Mike didn't have a familty which he could rely upon, Shaj thought about giving Mike some of his own money but decided against it since the money had been entrusted to him so that he could complete his task in Inviroth. Shaj realized now that he should have given Mike the money back then. But it was too late now. Mike was dead. Coming to a frustrating wall, Shaj let the conversation change course that day, but returned to it indirectly a few months later. "So Mike, " Shaj meant to say, "if you're goal in life is to travel, why aren't you?" "'Cause I don't have enough money." "But will you ever?" "I don' know. Eventually.... Maybe..."
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November 12, 2011 "But if you can't fulfill your obligations to yourself then why do you live?" Unforuntately, this was too complicated for Shaj's human linguistic skills and didn't come out well. "Huh?" Mike didn't understand. Shaj rephrased the question. "If you can't travel... If you can't ever accomplish your own goals... then why do you still live?" Shaj was trying to force Mike to do something more than sitting around and rotting in the city, a situation which clearly Mike didn't even like. "Are you asking why I don't kill myself if I can't accomplish my dreams?" "Yes mostly," answered Shashevaj. Mike had understood the translation this time. "It's common among Ferazi. Those tired of living or those unfulfilled grow emaciated and die." "Nom Shaj, it doesn't work that way with Humans. There's no way that I'm gonna die yet." "But why not? If you think of yourself as a failure then what else is there to do?" "Hmmm.... How can I explain." Mike paused. "Okay, I got it. It's true that I don't like where I am, but I will get there someday. Or at least I expect to, or hope to." Shaj didn't sey anything but let Mike think for a few minutes. "You're right. I'm fed up with what I'm doin, and if I thought I'd be at the same place the rest of my life I'd waste away just like Ferazi. Hell, there are lots 'v people who do it. But," Mike emphasized this with an upraised finger, "I have hope. If I didn't think I'd get to see the world, I'd be dead. But I will." His eyebrow raised to emphasize the point. "You see," Mike continued, "the factory I work at is run by the Technos. I'm sure of it. If I can do something... I don't know what... I think I can get promoted, and then I'm outta this town. I've just gotta keep my eyes open for anything interesting. Just wait, I'll get there." 1414 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Mike was silent for awhile. Preparing to avenge Mike's death a year later, Shaj regretted that he had forced Mike into action, and into a wild attempt to be recognized by his factory and begin his desired life. Now, because Shaj encouraged him to escape from the city, he was dead. After Mike's speech, Shaj's Human friend turned the tables. "Okay. Your turn. What d' you want to do?" Shaj knew the response well. "Honor my family," and then after awhile he added, "and when not doing that, enjoy life." It didn't translate so nobly though but Mike understood. "Well, I know that you're not in Inviroth to enjoy life. That's obvious. So why're you here?" Shashevaj hadn't anticipated this question arising as a reaction to his probing into Mike's motivations, perhaps because Shaj didn't want to answer it and face reality. The Ferazi avoided the question, "I'm here because my family requests it. I'm here to do them the service I owe them." "And what's that?" Shaj had always liked Mike's curiosity before, but now it was putting him in a difficult position. Answering the question might sever his friendship with the human, but lying was an equally abhorrent betrayal of the friendship and Shaj's debt to Mike. So what could Shaj do if he couldn't lie and he couldn't tell the truth? "I can't tell you now," was Shaj's answer, and in an attempt to heal any wounds caused by his blunt refusal to confide in his friend, Shaj added, "But I will someday." Shaj never got around to telling Mike why he was in Inviroth. It was yet another regret solidified by death and permenantly stained on his conscience. But if the Ferazi had told Mike of his dealings in Inviroth, what would Shaj say? His mother had sent him into the human city, in essence, to wage war against its human inhabitants and discover their weaknesses. Shaj had agreed to learn the lay of the city, its defenses, and vulnerabilities. Even more, Shashevaj was instructed to search for any entrances to the ancient Ferazi warrens if given the chance, and from there 1415 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 to learn of the damage done to them, the utility of the warrens in case of war, and whether they were inhabitable after a victory. Ironically, Mike's death led Shaj to the only viable entrance into the warren city which he had found at his stay in Inviroth. In the week of exploration since the entrance's discovery, Shaj had discovered several family dwellings and the main artery which provided access to the almost the entire city, as far as Shaj could tell. A week wasn't enough time to explore the whol warren. Although the underground structures had been tampered with somewhat, and appeared to be occasionally inhabited by thieves, the Ferazi city still existed underneath Inviroth and could be reborn with little difficulty. Except, Shaj wondered, was it right? Was it right for Shashevaj to use the knowledge gained by his human friend's death in order to destroy his friend's own people? Mike had saved Shaj's life. If the sides had been switched Shaj would have let Mike's blood soak into the street and wiould have never worried about it again, but instead a human, an enemy, risked his own life to save Shaj's and spent long hours restoring Shaj's health. But even more than that debt, Mike became a friend and displayed that at least one human in the city was worth saving. Could Shaj wage war upon humans when he had counted one if them a friend? Would he not then be betraying Mike and planning the murder of his own friend? Could he slay his savior? Of course, before any fighting did break out Shaj would rescue Mike and smuggle him out of the city. Wouldn't that be enough? But if Mike's sister were killed during the siege wouldn't that similarly injure Mike? After all, an injury to a family member is an injury to self. Shashevaj would have to get Mike's sister out also. Was that enough? Mike had other friends beside Shaj. They would have to be saved likewise. And does Mike care about his friend's friends? Shaj followed the reasoning to its extreme conclusion. Because Inviroth contained one unique human who had saved a Ferazi, the city must be saved. But then what about Shashevaj's family? Did they not have a right to live in their ancestral home which was brutally stolen by the humans? Did Shaj not have a blood obligation to his ancestors? And wasn't Shaj's debt to them incurred long before his 1416 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 friendship to Mike? The Ferazi felt required to reveal the entrance to the warren and to continue to wage war against the humans. After all, Mike was dead now and Shaj would soon avenge the death. But what if Mike were still alive? Would Shaj betray his friend. He didn't know. It didn't matter. Mike was dead. But what if there were other humans of Mike's qualities, those that would save a dying Ferazi at the risk of their own lives? What then? It didn't matter. Mike was unique. Shaj knew that no other human would rescue a Ferazi, so he would continue to wage the war.
CHAPTER 34: BUGBUG
[BUGBUG - Move this to after Dan stops by Caylan's]
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November 12, 2011 After fainting, Roy awoke in a cage somewhat like those used to haul the circus animals into and about the city. The cage was a boxed shape with vertical iron bars on all four sides, a horizontally barred ceiling and floor, laid upon a short wooden base. It even smelled like it had been occupied by some sort of exotic animal which feasted on carion tossed to it through the iron bars. To prove the point, there were even claw marks on the wood slat underneath the cage. Roy had watched at least half a dozen circuses come into Inviroth and set up tent in the potter's field, and unload the cages of wild beasts onto the ground. People crowded around the cages in order to get a better look at the wild animals locked inside, cougars, lions, wolves, and tigers, safe in the knowledge that the bars were inpenetrable. Although he had spent many hours watching the animals in the cages pace back and forth and continually try to squeeze through the bars, Roy never imagined actually being locked in the cage himself. Now that he was, he didn't like it very much, especially since he didn't know where he was. Next to Roy's prison, about three meters away, was a small oil lamp which enabled Roy to see anything in the cage, but didn't reveal much more of his location beyond that. He could see that the cage was up against a roughly-cut stone wall which rose and spanned beyond the light's illumination, and that the floor upon which the cage rested was of large flag-stones separated by mortar joints, it too expanding beyond the small light's ability to mark its boundary. Roy could only guess that his cage was at an edge of a huge room, but he didn't have any clue where it room was. He didn't even have any idea what the room was used for, although he did suspect that iIt was a dungeon. Roy had never been in a dungeon before, but that was because he never desired the experience enough to get himself locked in one, nor did he know where any were, except for the one underneath the castle. He could well imagine what one of these was like because, after all, Mike had told him many stories where the heros were locked in dungeons. All of the storybook dungeons had prisoners hung up on the wall waiting to be tortured, a hunchback wandering around who would spit at the prisoners or drag them to the rack where he would stretch them with huge heaves of the rack's spindle as the prisoners screamed in pain. All the while he would be saying, "Now tell me what you know," and if the prisoner didn't immediately answer then he'd give another tug on the crank a second 1418 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 or so later, and continue the torture until the victim gave in or was streatched to death. Roy wasn't worried because he was immune from such devices. First of all, he was too short for racks designed for humans... unless they had ones specially made for Remozsh. Also, and more importantly, Roy didn't know anything. Or at least he didn't know anything which he wouldn't divulge freely. The hunchback would easily get all of the information he needed before he could even finish strapping Roy onto the rack, so Roy would eventually be let go without so much as an hair's width of extra height. But if Roy told the hunchback everything that he knew, then what about Dan, John, and Shaj? This was probably the wizard's dungeon, which meant that any torturous activities would be designed for the sole purpose of finding out why Roy was watching the sorcerer's mansion. If Roy said anything then inevitably the wizard would end up getting Dan and Shaj, maybe even John, and Roy couldn't let that happen to any of them, no matter what John had done. So what would Roy do? He would resist. That's it! He'd just resist the pain and spittle, and never tell anything to his one-eyed torturer. He might even die on the rack or in the iron maiden, but he wouldn't give up his friends... Or so Roy hoped. But what if the wizard kept him down in this dungeon forever? Then he'd... Down? Roy remembered something dreadful about dungeons! They were always underground! Roy's cage was on a stone floor with a roughly cut rock wall behind it, something not found in a building. That meant that Roy was underground... Something made a shuffling sound off to Roy's left, about ten meters away. Roy quickly looked in the sound's direction but only saw darkness, although he suspected that he saw a glint of the candle light off of something. The Remozsh stood motionless, and attempted to identify and locate the sound. Nothing moved or stirred from the place for a few moments and then Roy heard a pebble roll over the flagstones to his right. Something had kicked it!
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November 12, 2011 Roy, who had been standing at the edge of the cage, each hand grasping a bar and his nose sticking through, retreated to the back of the cage where there was a solid rock wall through which nothing could come. Roy was safe there. In fact, Roy thought, the iron cage would protect him from any monster lurking underground. Nothing could get through the thick iron bars. But what if something were really small and squeezed through the bars? Tarantulas? Snakes? No problem; Roy could either smush them or theow them out. Tentacles? What about a huge monster with tentacles? Hundreds of green tentacles would first surround the cage and then slip in from all sides. Being locked in the cage, and surrounded by the green tendrils, Roy wouldn't have anywhere to run. At first, he'd feel something around his leg, and then it would slide around his arm, and then around his throat. All of the grasping tentacles would pull at him, each in a different direction. More tentacles would join in the fray. Roy wouldn't be able to hold on, and eventually he'd be pulled apart! Roy decided that had to get out of the cage because while locked inside, he was vulnerable to tentacles! With that thought in mind, Roy searched for an exit. At first he tried to squeeze through the bars but only managed to get himself stuck, making him even more frantic because now the monsters could catching him while he was immobile. Roy pulled himself back in the cage and began looking for the door by finding which bars moved. After some minutes of indiscriminate cage rattling, Roy figured out that the front opened up but it was locked with a padlock on the left hand side. Roy spent several minutes pulling at the padlock but was unable to tear it open. Completely out of options for escape, Roy retreated to the back of his cage and curled up, hoping to avoid the notice of and wandering monsters. Roy sat absolutely still and thought about nothing except the monster stories which his mother had told to him, but fortunately,. none of the foretold beasts noticed Roy sitting alone and trapped in the dark. After several hours of such thought, he heard some clinking off to his right, much louder than any sounds which he had previously heard. He quietly inched his way to the left side of his cage, where he braced himself to be assaulted by some nameless beast. Clink. Clink. Rattle. Screech. 1420 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy shivered and curled up again. Although he couldn't see anything while his head was between his knees, at least he felt safer. The rattling stopped and was replaced by footsteps walking on the stone. Roy continued to keep his head hidden. The footsteps continued for awhile, getting closer all of the while. Still Roy refused to look, and would rather be taken unawares by the monster than watch it creep up on him. But then Roy changed his mind. Unable to maintain his position under the stress, Roy gave way and looked up at the approaching monster. Rather that a hideous creature with tentacles for arms, Roy saw an older man malking towards him, about twenty meters off, and carrying a lantern and a bowl. The man's light illuminated the wall which he walked near, apparently the same one Roy which was caged next to. From the path which the man took, Roy could tell than the man had come from a flight of stairs which remained barely illuminated by the receding light. The man approached Roy and the stairs faded into darkness. The lantern, held in his left hand, cast the man's shadow to the right along the infinite expanse of the floor, dimming to black at the shadow's waist. The wall next to the man seemed to travel along with the light, suspending the gentleman in dark space. Eventually, his man's portion of universe intersected with Roy's space and the two worlds connected. "Hi! I'm Roy," said the Remozsh. He walked towards the man, but the iron bars prevented Roy from running up to him and shaking hands. Roy's visitor said nothing, but continued to walk towards Roy. "Wha' chir name?" Roy received no answer. The man stepped over Roy's lantern and the visitor turned into a silhouette. Roy backed off a bit. "What's up?"
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November 12, 2011 Again, the stoic figure gave no answer. The silhouette stopped about a meter from the cage, bent down and deposited a bowl. Roy could see part of the man's cheek and a thin head of glowing hair illuminated backlit by the lantern. "What's 'n tha bowl?" asked Roy. The man stood up, turned around and walked away. He stopped, maybe to say something, but instead the visitor deposited his own lamp and picked up Roy's. The Remozsh watched as the man walked thirty meters to the far end of the hall, climbed slowly up the stairs and disappeared behind another wall. More clinking and scraping sounded from the man's localtion, and then his lantern's light vanished. Roy sat still for awhile. He didn't know what to do now that the silence and emptiness had been left behind by the visitor. Roy examined the bowl outside the cage. It was wooden, with a spoon and some sort of liquid inside. Roy attempted to pull it into the cage but he couldn't get it through the bars without turning it sideways. After spilling some of the soup, for that's what it smelled like, Roy decided to leave the bowl outside his cage and used the spoon. With a bit of dexterity he managed to get a spoonful of the chicken soup, and then quickly devoured it once he had tasted his first spoonful of the delicious elixer.
CHAPTER 35: BUGBUG
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November 12, 2011 John let his muscles relax when he reached the wizard's gate and got into a position of relative safety, oddly as it seemed. Even though Dan, the Ferazi, and John had been fully cloaked, John was worried that the three would be stopped by some nosy police officer, and would have nothing to explain away the swords strapped to their sides, their armor, and a Ferazi riding a black horse. The cop would first ask them what their place of destination would be? Of course, telling him the truth, that the three were going to rescue a Rat from a wizard's mansion, would cause the officer to role over laughing. Unfortunately, given John's luck, that scenero wouldn't happen, and it would be more likely that at some point during their fabrications to the police, they'd screw up and raise his interest. Inevitably, they'd be locked up so fast that they wouldn't even have time to take off their armor. Dan and John had tried to think of several excuses for their odd dress and companion, and had spent several hours locked in a room discussing them. The best answer which they could invent was that they had a costume party and that the Ferazi really wasn't a roo, but someone with a very good costume which just happened to look excatly like one. Even though the best of the lot, such an excuse was riddled with holes, so much so that Dan and John came up with a fail-safe plane... run. Luckily, the trio wasn't stopped by any probing police, and didn't even pass any on their way through the city. Several people did pass them while they walked through the city, causing John's adrenaline to flow through his body, his heart to beat loud enough to be heard, and his throat to dry up. Although every encounter walked by without any event, passing anyone on the street was a close call. John was crazy for doing this, but luckily the insanity was nearly over, or so he hoped, and he could get back to some semblence of a normal life. Dan was willing to give up after tonight, whether or not they rescued Roy, but John would never believe that a bad thing would end until it actually did. Roy wasn't resuced yet and the sun did rise for another six hours. As soon as the Ferazi dismounted from his horse, John looked the iron gate over with the other two. As far as John could tell, neither Dan nor the Ferazi had any kind of firm plan which would get them into mansion, and John certainly hadn't come up with any ideas because he was hoping that without a way to get into the mansion, 1423 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan would give up right now. The extent of Dan's plan was small; He knew that he'd have to climb over the gate and then find a window to break into, and he knew that climbing over the pricker-lined hedges would be more painful than the climbing over the gate, and also that walking into the front door was a mistake. That was it. Such skilled planning was likely to prevent tonight's episode from ever beginning, and if it ever did, John was carefully watching for ways of getting out of the scene without beingn arrested or killed with the wizard. John wondered how many famous people had ever said, "We'll figure it out when we get there." If they ever did, John had never heard of any, but of course, they'd never admit it. Now that the group was actually faced with the gate, they were forced to figure out what to do about it. The gate was about five meters tall, made of wrought iron poles which were sharpened into spikes up at top, and locked with a very large padlock. John mad himself look busy and checked the padlock, hoping that it really was locked. John jiggled the body of the lock and found out, to his surprise, that it really wasn't locked. Shit! If he told anyone now then they really would have to go in, something which John definately didn't want to do. Dan whispered to John, "Is it open?" "Huh?" John whispered back, not knowing what Dan was refering to. "The padlock." What should John say? "No," John finally pronounced, "it doesn't budge." "Oh well, I knew that our luck wasn't that good." Now that John had lied to his friend, he couldn't let Dan find out, so he stood by the lock and determined not to let anyone else near it. While Dan was busy looking around the bushes, John gently and stealthfully pushed the iron loop back into the body, making sure not to lock it just in case the gate would be useful later on. Since Dan thought that the gate was locked and obviously didn't find anything by the hedges, Dan did exactly what John didn't do, climb up the iron gate, using the horizontal and diagonal crossbars as footings. About half way up, John reconsidered opening then padlack but decided that it would be a bad political move, so he 1424 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 watched Dan climb to the top of the gate and take his time to maneuver around the spikes, being very careful not to get impaled anywhere, especially in vital areas. Once over the razor blades, Dan climbed down a bit and then jumped the rest of the way. He landed and looked around, but everything was still silent and dark. "Okay John, it's your turn," whispered John's ex-friend. If John had merely opened the lock a minute ago then he wouldn't have to climb, but seeing as he had already told Dan that it was locked, he couldn't afford to open it now. Just then, John heard something running on grass, and then a yelp, and then the baying of several hounds. Four large shapes came running from the right and straight towards the gate. Luckily they were on the other side of the bars, and the padlock was still on. The bars rattled and John looked over to see the Ferazi begin his climb. Dan turned around, stared at the charging hounds for a moment, and then drew is sword. John, not really wanting to climb a gate, be impaled by its spikes, and then jump into a pack of hounds, took an extra moment to watch at the charging dogs. They were huge great-danes, black except for the light reflecting from their eyes and dangling toungs which partially obscured their white teeth partially. One dog jumped at Dan but was skewered with a sword, pulling Dan's sword hand down to the ground as the hound fell, dead. Dan was pulling his sword out of the twitching body when another dane jumped onto Dan and knocked him to the ground. The dog great-dane began to bit at Dan's neck. The gate gave a tremendous rattle and John saw the Ferazi land behind the dogs on the other side. Shashevaj pulled out his sword and stabbed a started dog through its back. John's surprise wore off and he once again reconsidered opening the gate in order to go in and help, but he wasn't willing to see Dan's reaction. John began climbing the gate, going as fast as he could, but given the pace of the fight, at an excruciatingly slow pace. When he got half way up, John saw the Ferazi preoccupied with a hound which was unwilling to approach too close to Shaj's sword. Dan was still struggling under his assailant, although John didn't see any blood yet. 1425 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 John reached the spikes, but unlike Dan, he didn't have time to carefully maneuver around them. Rather than carefully supporting all of his weight with his arms while he flipped his legs over, John just flopped his stomach onto the iron spears and hoped that his curboili would keep him from being punctured. It seemed to work, and just like he had done when we was young and climbing over fences, John tried to swivel himself compeletely around, head to feet, but that didn't work because his armor was firmly embedded on the spikes. Dan was still struggling underneath the dog. John grabbed a hold of the top horizontal bar with both hands and went head forward, flipping over and letting go just before his back rammed into the gate. John's feet landed on something soft that proceded to give a snap; He hoped it wasn't Dan. Because of the unevenness of the body which John landed on, his feet gave way and he fell down backwards, absorbing most of the blow with his butt and his stopping the fall with his hands before his head hit the ground. John realized that it would be an appropriate time for a ravenous hound to jump onto him, but nothing ran or jumped at John. Now that he had landed, John looked around. Dan, his first worry, was standing up with a bloody dagger in his left hand and a lot of blood around his neck and all over his armor, but John wasn't sure if it was the dogs' or Dan's. The Ferazi was wiping off his blade off on a dead dog. It appeared that John was too late to help, not that Dan and the Ferazi needed help. However, John was still capable of sharing in their pain as his butt, ankles, and hands began to throb in their dissatisfaction with John's heroic acrobatics. He should have opened the gate. The Ferazi looked around, saw John and then Dan. "See me your neck," muttered the Ferazi. Neither Dan nor John knew exactly what Shaj meant so neither replied. The Ferazi sheathed his sword, walked up to Dan, and began to examine his neck, turning and swiveling Dan's head for him in order to get a better view. John was pretty amazed, having never seen any sympathy come from the creature. Shashevaj finished up his 1426 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 examination with two incomplete sentences, "Dog bite. Not bad." Dan and John stared at each other wondering what they should make of the Ferazi's demonstration of humanity, small that it was. The two didn't have much time to ponder the roo's action because Shaj immediately began to drag a dog away from the gate and shoved it underneath the hedge. Dan followed Shashevaj's example and grabbed his own dog leg, pulling the dog along with it and shoving the hound by its brother. Feeling useless sitting on the ground, John suffered more pain by standing up and hauled away the hound which had cushioned his fall. Shaj finished up with the last dog. Before John could become sarcastic once again, Dan had already initiated the next stage of the rescue plan. "Let's try getting through the second story window," whispered Dan just before he snuck off towards the house. Shaj went after Dan, and John followed Shaj. The three snuck across the grouns, running from tree to tree and occasionally running through the wizard's well-manicured flowers. The Ferazi stopped, perked up its ears, and listened, several times, but each time would continue on towards the house after hearing nothing. When the trio reached the mansion they gathered underneath a dark window. Dan motioned for the two to stay where they were and snuck off around the house while John and Shashevaj stood and waited underneath the window. While standing around and waiting for Dan, John wondered how many people had ever stood alone in the dark next to an armed Ferazi and lived. Not many, he suspected. Even a week ago John would have never let himself be alone with Shaj, but at this rate soon John would be calling the Ferazi a pal and spend the evenings munching on carrots with his furry compatriot. He wasn't sure what to think about this, and didn't know if he should castigate himself for being too trusting, or for not being trusting enough. Shaj's head suddenly whipped around to face the other direction, his ear-and-a-half raised. John followed suit but it was some time before he heard and then saw someone walking towards them. The shadow motioned for them to come; It was Dan. Dan led the two around a quarter of the mansion and to a one story addition of some sort, probably a kitchen. "Here, " Dan said to John, "I'll help you get up. When you 1427 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 get up, tie this rope around the chimney so that Shaj and I can climb up," and Dan gave John a rope which he had stashed away somewhere. John suspected that Dan was getting back at him for being slow to climb the gate. Reluctantly, John took the rope and, using Dan's cupped hands as a foothold, hauled himself onto the top of the roof. Luckily, all of the windows looking onto the addition's roof were dark. John searched around in the dim light and found the chimney, but not finding any loop in the rope, John was forced to make one. Being ignorant of any official knot for such an occasion, he used the same knot he'd been taught when he was four by his father, slipped the loop around the chimney and let the rope down. Of course, back then he only used knots to tie his shoes, not to break into wizards' mansions. Dan climbed up first and was folloed by Shaj. As soon as they were up John pulled the loop off of the chimney and hauled up any rope hanging ocer the edge. He spent a few seconds trying to untie the knot but gave up out of frustration and just coiled up the rope. Not knowing what to do with the rope, John tried to pass if off to Dan but his friend ignored him, so he was forced to hold onto the rope, even though he was tempted to leave it lying somewhere. Suddenly, Shaj hissed and motioned everyone to stop. His ears perked up and swiveled about for a minute but eventually descended. It must have been another false alarm, but John was well aware that those ears heard much better than his own. Just like they had below, the windows up here all had bars. Dan tried to pull a set of bars off of the darkened window but was unable to, so he pulled out a crowbar from somewhere and started to pry. It appeared that Dan was more prepared than John had thought, or hoped. While Dan was busily working at the bars, Shashevaj took the rope from John, backed up to the lowest edge of the shed roof, furthest from the roof level above, and stared intently at the gables a story and a half up. He seemed to consider them for a moment and then unbuckled his sword belt and slipped out of his cape and chainmail, slung the rope around his neck, and looked like a white ghost with nothing on but a short kilt. John had no idea what the Ferazi was doing so he just stood and watched the roo, wondering what the crazy thing was about to do. 1428 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan's prying stopped but John didn't bother to see why, or even if Dan had succeded in opening the window. The Ferazi knelt down, using the fingertips of his hands to aid in his balance, and stared straight up at the eaves, looking like both a runner waiting for "On your marks... Go" to be yelled, and a cat about to make a high leap. The Ferazi recoiled and then all John saw was a white blur as Shaj leapt almost straight upwards. An instant later John heard something rattle up towards the second roof. He looked up and saw the Ferazi hanging a gutter about six meters up, remaining absolutely motionless while the gutter's clatter reverberated. Everyone stood absolutely still, listening for any alarm which might be raised but after a minute of silence, Shaj decided it was safe and lifted himself onto the roof above, swung his feet over the edge, and was gone. John began to think that Shaj was a good person to have along. A minute later, one end of the rope flew over the ledge and landed next to John. The upper torso of Shaj appeared over the eaves and motioned for Dan and John to climb up. Dan was the first to climb, followed by John, who was forced to carry the Ferazi's heavy armor and cape up with him. By the time John reached the top he was exhausted and sat down while Shashevaj put on his armor. The Ferazi then coiled up the rope and gave it to Dan, who accepted it without complaint. Shaj led the group to a dormer with an dark but unbarred window which Dan quickly pried open with his crowbar. Shashevaj entered first, followed by Dan and John. The room was dark without the any of moonlight which had lit the outside, so Dan rummaged through his pack, pulled out a candle, and lit it. The whole attic was one large room interrupted by rafters and support beams, with boxes and old furniture scattered around the edges. The group did a cursory scan of the attic for Roy but failed to find him amidst the old clothing, sofas, and crates. However, Dan did find a set of folding stairs near the center of the attic which led downstairs. He kneeled next to the trap door, opened it a crack, and peered cautiously into the floor below. When he felt it safe, he let the trap door swing further open and slowly let the telescoping steps slide down to the floor below. Not trusting enough of Dan's senses, the Ferazi stuck his head through the hole for a momentary listen, and then climbed down the stairs. Dan and John followed. 1429 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Climbing down the stairs brought the group into a long hallway running through the middle of the second floor with doors symmetrically aligned along the passage. Equally distributed along the walls, one to either side of a door, were extinguished lamps mounted to the wall, so the only light source was Dan's candle and... Shaj's ears sprang up and he motioned for the two humans to stop. After a bit of swiveling, the ears pulled back completely flat, and Shaj turned around. "No hear. Zumthing bad een air." After Shashevaj had mentioned it, John noticed that he too felt something, like the unworldlyness experience which he had when the ghost attacked him, but he didn't see any need to agree with Shaj. The hallway was dark except for some light filtering up from the stairwell whic enetered the middle of the corridore. Dan pulled out two more candles from his pack, lit them from his own, and gave them to John and Shashevaj. "Here," he said as he handed them out, "Let's split up and check all the rooms. John, take that end. Shaj, take those doors." John obeyed Dan's orders, walked over to the two doors at the end of the hall assigned to him and tried opening the one on the left. Holding his candle in his right hand, John slowly turned the doorknob with his left until it stopped, and then slowly pushed the door open. He first peeked in with his head and saw only darkness, and then gradually let the candlelight reveal the room. It was an ornately furnished bedroom with a curtained bed whose sashes were swung aside. Luckily no one was in it, or John would have set off the alarm. John slowly closed the door and then followed the same procedure for the other door. This one also was empty, but it was some sort of study with a large executive desk boarded by shelfloads of books. Not having heard any yells or footsteps running down the hallway, John assumed that everything had gone smothly at the other rooms, so John closed that door and returned to the center of the hall in order to wait for the other two's discoveries. Shaj had already finished his searches by the time that John crept back to the meeting place, but Dan could be seen examining some rooms at the other end. John was tempted to ask the Ferazi what he had found but knew that if it had found anything then it would have attacked it. Instead, John took the moment of respite to 1430 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 wonder why he was spending the night breaking into a mansion when he could be safely sleeping in his bed. He didn't have long to ponder the thought because Dan soon finished and returned to the rendevous. "Anything?" whispered Dan, but neither Shaj nor John had found the Remozsh. "Okay. We head downstairs." John wondered if these were in fact a dream, or rather hoped that it was and that he was really sleeping in his bed. He followed Dan and Shaj as they cautiously snuck down the stairs, all the time expecting to hear a shout of "Burglars!" or like. The downstairs architecture and layout was similar to that on the second floor, a long hallway with doors and lanterns, except that some of the oil lamps along the wall were lit. "Okay, split up again," said Dan, but was interrupted by a scratchy whisper from Shaj, "No... Together." Dan wasn't about to disagree with the experienced Ferazi, and neither was John for that matter. Taking Shashevaj's advice, Dan lead the three to a door opening at the far end of the hall, with Shaj immediately behind and John tagging along to make sure that no one came from behind. The crew moved from one door to another, looking into all of the rooms, and even though John saw nothing of their contents, he assumed that they were empty, with neither Remozsh, Wizard, nor servant. The house was deserted. "What was our plan if the house was deserted?" whispered John. Dan shrugged. Shashevaj though, had an idea. "Come. More house," he said and led them to one of the central rooms which had previously been found empty. The Ferazi grabbed the handle with his clawed hand, and as soon the door swung open, the Ferazi's ears perked up and swiveled around slightly, focusing in on the far end of the room. John looked in this tima and saw that the room was a den containing several plush chairs, a darkly stained coffee table, and a few shelfloads of books. Three doors led out of the room, one which the group has standing in front of, another which seemed to connect with an adjacent room which must have already been searched, and a third opposite to the group. Neither Dan nor Shaj had entered any of the rooms to check them before but this time Shaj did. 1431 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Ferazi walked boldly across the room and opened the opposite door, and from the looks of it, fully expected to find another chamber behind it. But it was only a coat closet, although as soon as Shaj opened the door, a strange humming sound started. It wasn't a humming sound though, but was more of a low rumble which John felt rather than heard. John realized that he had been hearing the same sound all along, ever since he had entered the house, but it was only now, once the closet door had been opened, that the sound became audible. Dan seemed to hear it too because he plugged his ears for a second just to make sure that the sound was real. Shashevaj motioned Dan and John forward and then said, "Zekret door. Look vor button." Shaj began examining the region right around the door, pressing and pulling on anything which he could find. Dan took the left side of the room, and John took the right. Although John didn't know exactly what he was supposed to be doing, he followed Shaj's example and started pushing and pulling everything that might possibly move. John tugged at the molding, tried sliding it, attempted to twist the oil lamp on the wall, stuck his fingers in its crevices and pushed, attempted to find any indentations behind the wallpaper and push those, and then gave up for a moment while he looked for something else to manipulate. Before John could find a new possible trigger however, he heard a click off to his left, a high-pitched swish, and then something slammed into the wall right next to his left ear. Now that the danger was over, John's reflexes finally responded and he turned around. A sharp-looking scythe had imbedded itself horizontally near John's head, right at neck level. Shaj was crouched down to the ground and had a trace of blood on his head. Had he been cut? If so, Shaj wasn't hurt, because he stood up and examined the mecahnical scythe implement for a second, and then turned his attention to a long white thing lying on the floor and picked it up. John got a closer look at it and noticed that it looked just like a Ferazi ear. The roo obviously noticed this too, because Shashevaj felt about the top of his head and then seemed to get really angry. It was then that John noticed that Shaj's left ear, which had previously been the only complete ear, was now half it's height and only slightly less of a stump than Shaj's other ear. Forgetting all other dangers, the Ferazi opened up his pouch and gently placed his severed ear in it. 1432 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 While the Ferazi was mourning the loss of his last ear, John noticed that another thing had also been cut lose when the blade swung. The closet's floor had disappeared and revealed a stone stairway leading down underneath the mansion. The low rumbling sound was now louder and obviously eminating from the stairwell. Shashevaj, who, John guessed, was eager to affect revenge upon whomever sliced his ear off, noticed the stairs and was the first one to walk down them. Dan and John followed.
CHAPTER 36: BUGBUG
Roy spent several days, to the best of his recogning, in the cage, occasionally being paid a visit by the butler, who although he was nice enough to deliver some of the best food which Roy had ever tasted, didn't ever speak a word to the Remozsh. Roy was left in silence to brood and worry about the monsters underground, although after a day or so, he got over the phobia and finally concluded that there were no beasts underground like his mother had said, or at least in this underground room. But Roy never got completely used to the cage though because the silence was incredibly boring and almost nerve racking. He yearned to hear people talking and conducting on normal life, to see the sun, and to feel it upon his skin. None of that happened and Roys days of captivity were extremely boring. Then, one day, instead of the butler, Roy watched someone different enter, a man who was taller and carried a torch, but no food. He wore extravagant robes, with some sort of red robe underneath a purple overcoat which flared out at the arms and the feet. The boarders of the silken coat were embroidered with gold-thread 1433 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 needlework, and around his neck and on top of the robes, the man wore a necklace with a circular gold medallion hanging from its end. The man's hair was red and short. Roy recognized him to be Caylan, and by the look of his garb, Roy believed that he really was a wizard! The wizard, with a torch in his left hand, walked down the stairs and when he reached the bottom, lifted his torch up high and against the wall. After leaving it there a minute he turned completely about and started walking along the far wall. The point where he had set his torch fire was now burning with a light which rested upon an inset oil burner which Roy had missed before. Wizard Caylan walked about five meters along the wall, stopped, turned towards the wall, and once again lifted up his torch. Another flame was lit. He continued this process, slowly, calmly, and almost ceremoniously, walking counter clockwise around the hall and stopping to kindle a light every five meters. As the wizard made his round about the hall, Roy began to realize how immense the chamber was, how it was larger than the largest building he'd ever been allowed in. Only the temples and government buildings were larger. Wow, Roy thought, an entire ship could be placed in the room, more like a fleet, and they would all stand upright in dry-dock except for their masts. The torch light didn't illuminate enough of the ceiling to make it's height discernible, however, and Roy could only see a faint glow where the roof was, not enough detail to get a height. Looking up and around made Roy feel so small, and so very tiny. He was a lone ant, caged, and watching the mantis come round. The mantis moved its way slowly about the edges of the room, counterclockwise, illuminating stonework walls and barren floors, but when the wizard had lit his way to the third corner, opposite to the stairs and closest to Roy's position, the lamps brought a large bookcase and podium into existence, guarded by several surrounding candles. The shelf, at least two meters tall, carried more books than Roy had ever seen, and he had thought Mike's collection enormous; Not only that, these were incredibly huge books and some had heights which could exceed Roy's. While the wizard was slowly working his way down the lights, Roy counted the tomes to be beyond a hundred, giving up at the astronomical number. 1434 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 When the predator, through his prolonged task of lighting the cavern, finally did come near to Roy's cage, Roy courteously introduced himself, "Hi! I'm Roy." He held his hand outside of the cage for his captor to shake. Although not entirely friendly, the sorcerer paid more heed than Roy's previous visitor. Caylan looked at Roy, and at Roy's outstretched hand, gave a pinched smile, and then followed his predecessors actions. He ignored the Remozsh and continued to work at his illumination. Ten or fifteen minutes later the wizard finally completed his circuit around the hall, left the sanctuary of the room's edges, and walked into the center of the room where he began to light some short pedestals scattered about in random positions. Roy couldn't take the boredom of watching even more lamps being lit. "What'cha doin'?" Roy yelled to the wizard. The Wizard Caylan turned around, and for the first time, spoke, "Magic." Roy caught a bit of humor in the voice, as though the word were funny, because Caylan's lips were spasmed into a smile as he spoke. Strange guy thought Roy, and before he could ask another question, the wizard had finished his illuminations and was walking back up the stairs. He had only lit ten pedestals; Roy had expected a hundred or so of them just like there had been on the walls but was disappointed by the small numbers. With the only visitor who had ever spoken to Roy leaving, the Remozsh turned his attention to the lit chamber. It was huge, and its emptiness compounded upon its size to make it additionally so. The only objects within it were Roy, the cage, his bowl, an enormous shelf, a podium, and tens lights scattered about the center of the room. The walls looked like they were cut out of solid stone. The floor was a sea of oddly shaped flagstones separated by a light mortar. Roy wondered why it wasn't solid rock also. Maybe there was a floor underneath this, maybe an even larger room. That could be where the torture chamber was because Roy's current dwelling wasn't much of one. It didn't have any racks, fire pits with hot coals, iron maidens, skeletons, or prisoners. Roy had at least expected to see some manacles in the walls. But the only possible torture devices were the lamps, randomly scattered in the middle of the room, and their flames wouldn't even 1435 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 make Roy scream, although it would hurt to be burned. Maybe Roy wasn't going to be tortured. But then why was he here? Roy heard someone walking down the steps again, looked over, and saw the sorcerer laboriously carry two large glass jars, each cocked against a shoulder. Both seemed to contain a dark brown liquid. "What're those?" yelled Roy across the room. Caylan finished walking down the stairs, managed a few steps into the room and placed the jars on the floor by kneeling and letting them roll off his knees. He stood up and answered, "Jars." That wasn't much of an answer. Roy continued to wonder. "But what's in 'em?" asked Roy. "Oh..." Caylan paused and smiled, "Nothing you need to be concerned about." "Oh" was Roy's only response. The wizard picked up the jars, kneeling down to grab ahold of them, and carried them past Roy and to the podium where he placed the jars down again. Caylan turned his attention towards his bookshelf and began reading the bindings, staring at the upper left hand corner and working to the right. When he reached the end he returned to the left edge and read the bindings on the second shelf from the top. Roy's curiosity forced him to ask another question. "Did ya read all those?" Caylan turned around, this time without any smile. "Yessss." He started to turn back but seemed to think of something else. This time he asked Roy a question, "Do you have anymore questions?" That was nice of him thought Roy. "Yeah, I do." "Well, don't ask them," snapped Caylan. Roy, not getting a very good response from his last question, decided to be quiet for awhile and watch his captor's actions. The wizard took no notice of Roy's injured 1436 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 feelings and continued his perusal of the books. When his index finger guided Caylan to about the center of the shelf, he muttered some sort of, "Ah, here it is," to himself and pulled another smile again. The wizard laboriously pulled the tome from its brothers by first tilting it forward to expose some cover area, and then, with both hands, wiggled the volume out. One of its neighbors, free to relax, slumped to rest its head in the empty space. The book must have been very heavy because it dived towards the ground as soon as Caylan had extracted it from the shelf, but was saved with the wizard's effort. He proceeded to laboriously drag the volume, almost as tall as Roy and as thick as his head, over to the podium. The wizard managed to pull the book up high enough to let it rest upon the podium for a moment while his arms rested. Caylan pushed the tome up onto the stand and opened it. He looked for a moment and then began to leaf through it. Roy, by now, had forgotten the wizard's command, and succumbed to his eagerness to talk. "Mike had a lot of books." The wizard answered in a subconscious and distant voice, like a preoccupied parent does to a child, "That's nice." Caylan continued to thumb through the pages, stopping once every few leafs to let his fore finger peruse it for a few lines before the wizard forced his finger to relent and continue to flip the pages. Roy tried to stand on tip toe to see some of the book's pages but the podium was too high. He only managed to get glimpses of a few brightly colored pages as they were flipped. "What's it about?" asked Roy. "Huh," answered the preoccupied wizard as he continued his search. "The book." Again, another distant answer. "Nothing." "Is't magic?" 1437 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Yessss." The wizard's finger had mental victory again and was sliding down a page. "What kind of magic?" asked Roy. Caylan's finger stopped and the wizard actually turned to glare at Roy. He gave a nasty look and then seemed to relent. Using his right hand as a book mark, Caylan lifted the back cover and looked at the binding, causing half of the pages to slide onto Caylan's hand. The wizard read the title in a teacher-like style, "Demonology, Volume three," and after a bit of searching, "Written by Segarion in six eighty something." The wizard put the back cover down and flipped to the page marked by his right hand. This time Roy got the nasty look. "Now shut [long silence] up." Caylan returned to his reading. Once again the finger started perusing the page, and once satiated, allowed the hand to flip to the next page where it continued its pointing. About half way down the new page, Caylan retracted his hand and walked to the far shelf corner where he picked up a large paint brush. He then made his way to the two jars he brought in, bent down, and picked one up. Roy watched intently. The wizard hauled the heavy jar to somewhere around the center of the room, deposited it near a candle, and opened it up. He righted the brush, dipped it in the jar, and pulled it out, covered with red paint. The wizard then bent over and began to paint in broad strokes what seemed to be line, but Roy's view was obscured by the wizard's robes swishing back in forth in contrary motion to the brush. Roy figured that the "shut up" from Caylan had timed out. "What're ya doin?" he asked. Caylan stood up right and returned a very icy stare. "Making a pentagram. Now shut up or I'll have you killed." He smiled somewhat. "But I didn't do anything," meekly answered Roy. 1438 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This time Caylan raised his voice and gave it a sardonic tone, "You didn't do anything?" Roy nodded a "no." "Oh yes you did. You were spying on me." Upon learning that his captor knew what he had been doing, Roy decided that it was prudent not to say anything more. After Roy hadn't said anything for some seconds Caylan seemed to be satisfied that the Remozsh had shut up, and allowed himself to return to the work of painting lines on the ground. After a few minutes of Roy's silence the wizard straightened up and turned to Roy. "The only reason you're alive now is because you might be useful to me." Roy felt it his right to speak. "You can't kill me 'caiuse I was sitting 'n a tree." "Oh? And who says not?" said the wizard as he looked around the empty room. Caylan had that tight smile on his face. "There're laws against killing." Roy knew it wasn't a very good response but it was all he could come up with. The smile widened but gained no depth. "Oh?" said the wizard with inflection. "The laws won't help you. You're only a rat." "But my friend's 'll get you!" Roy realized that he shouldn't have said that. Caylan tilted his head a moment in thought. "Oh, they may try..." The wizard paused and then finished off his sentence, "...but they'll be dead soon." "But you can't do that!" The smile returned for a moment and then parted to answer. "Why can't I?" Pause, "I can kill you all. And why shouldn't I? You tried to mess with me, and look where you are now. "Caylan pointed to the cage which Roy was locked in. "You've lost the game." "Huh?" Roy didn't know what game Caylan was referring to. "You risked messing with me and I caught you. I'll get your friends too. You lost." The "You lost" was emphasized. 1439 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Roy was still confused. "But I wasn't playing a game." Caylan put on a look of disgust, or perhaps sarcastic sympathy on his face "Come on. You wanted to get me because I had your friend killed. Right?" The wizard didn't wait for an answer. "But, you also knew that I might find out. I found your friend out also, and he lost. He knew that there was a chance I'd find out and that he'd die. He could have stopped anytime but he continued the game. He took the risks." Cayland smiled, and then finished his soliloquy, "and he died." Caylan seemed satisfied with his answer and stooped down to continue his painting. "No! I didn't enter any game and I never knew I might die." Caylan didn't look up, but shouted into the floor. "Then you're stupid and deserve to die." The necromancer painted for about a half hour, dragging the jar about with him as his lines progressed. When he returned to his starting place he capped the jar and straightened up. He carried the mostly-empty jar back to the podium, set the brush on top, and walked up to the edge Roy's cage. Looking down onto Roy, Caylan said, "I'm going to do some magic soon, so if you have any more questions you had better get them out now. Do you have anymore?" "No," answered Roy meekly. "Are you going to be quiet this time?" "Yeah." The wizard was so close and overbearing that Roy felt like running to the other side of the cage. Suddenly, Caylan's hand raced through the cage bars and grabbed Roy by the neck. "If you say anything... or make any noise," the captor said, "I'll cast the spell on you instead." Roy was too terrified to say anything. He just went limp and hoped that Caylan wouldn't break Roy's neck.
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November 12, 2011 The wizard let go of Roy and walked to the podium, where he looked over the tome even more intently than before. After scanning the book for some time the necromancer looked forward towards the center of the room and began speaking in a loud and commanding voice. "
Kaza nah vahn lasaa thu. Kaza neh vahn linea. En tranvitor san luche vizu. Encenerae leen vahn linea. "
Roy had never heard the language before. "
Sahn ver nah ulaxial, Sahn vee serviserai luche, Whar keen vox nah fee ehl, Whers if modestan chae. "
The wizard's voice was so loud that Roy could imagine that he was standing right next to the cage and chanting. "
Achvar en travitor kelias, Achia sahn mole, achia sahn resulta, Tamal lahn fuchie nas, Tekarae seen nah ulaxeeyae meta."
His voiced seemed to surround Roy, coming from everywhere in the room. "
Aseetah naraseth fujiaree lath,
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November 12, 2011 Asiniath kahn nah simieth. " The sorcerer's voice now reverberated around the room as though there were hundreds of Caylans scattered around the chamber, and even in the cage with Roy, each speaking exactly the same words and the same pace with the same intonation. All were in near perfect unison. "
Bachvalius nah en tavitor kelias, Banium shan mole metias. "
Roy felt like he was in a dream. "
Forensian kavitar. Forensia nah metiar. "
Something moved at the edge of Roy's vision to the right, so he took his eyes off of the wizard and looked over towards the center of the room. "
Gefian botimu, Gefius botimus. "
The wizard's voice echoed in a thunderous chorus. Something in the center of the room was moving but Roy couldn't discern what. Was it magic? Roy watched and tried to indentify the movement. "
Kastilian, Keristian!"
The sound was prying Roy's concentration away from his vision, cajoling him to listen and be cradled by the sound. But then Roy saw something. A flagstone bobbed up and down. The one next to it was doing likewise. 1442 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 " Merisiaf! Merisiaf! " Those adjacent to the stones were, although only slightly, were also moving. The central stone gave a sudden lurch downward and then bobbed back up. It's neighbors followed its queue, and in turn, so did their neighbors. "
Asafian! Asafian! "
The central block jumped up above the rest, stretching the mortar as it leaped. When it fell back down the neighbors all leapt, and the wave rippled outward. Although Roy had never seen any magic before, beyond the card tricks of magicians in the street, this all seemed familiar, as though Roy had watched this particular show before. Roy wondered if Mike had read him a story about it. Wouldn't Mike be surprised to find out that it was true. The center leapt again and another ripple raced away, but this time some of the wave managed to find the border of the pentagram before it died, and reflected off in its last bust of energy. Another wave sprang up, this one somewhat distant from the previously active central block. Its circular wave expanded and then first bounced off one wall of the five sided star, and then the other. The ripples intersected and ran over one another. Mike hadn't ever told Roy about this kind of magic. Roy was sure of it. Several more waves originated from various points in the pentagram. But where as before the flagstones seemed to be floating in a pool of mortar, now they themselves had become fluid and flexed with the passing of the waves. If Mike hadn't told Roy about this, then where had Roy found out about it?
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November 12, 2011 The floor-turned-lake began to boil with activity. Roy excepted that he would hear rocks loudly grating upon one another but all he could discern was the wizard's booming voice uttering some incomprehensible phrases. Roy remembered where he had seen the magic. He had dreamt about it. Globules of rock-water attempted to leap away from the chruning ground, but the tenacious surface never let go and the blobs, textuired with brick and mortar, never managed to completely extract themselves from the fluid. They were always pulled back into the churning sea. The dream, Roy remembered, where he had seen this was bad. It was really bad. What happened in the dream? Some of the globules seemed to have assume shapes and colors. Fissures in the liquid stone seemed to form the eyes and mouths of creatures, and Roy imagined that the blobs were captured animals trying to escape from a pit of tar, doing their utmost to keep their head above the black death and occasionally making a futile lunge to escape. What had happened in the dream? Suddenly a pseudopod protruded from the waves. It had five protrusions off of it which bent closed and then flexed open. It was a hand. A hand! And then suddenly Roy remembered his entire dream. He had to get away. The terrified Remozsh rattled the cage but then, decideding that such noise might attract attention from the demon, ran to the opposite end of his prison and as far away from the demon as possible. He looked back at the thing and saw hundreds of forms leaping from the liquid floor, heads, hands, hooves, claws, all attempting one last lunge from the tar before being sucked back into non-existence. Roy crouched down and hid his head. All he could hear, see, smell, taste, and feel were the thunderous words of the wizard. 1444 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 And Roy mercifully blacked out...
CHAPTER 38: BUGBUG
Dan stood over Shaj's twisted body and windered what he should do now that the wizard was dead, and presumably Roy along with him. The Ferazi's body was all twisted, with an obviously broken leg, and bood trickling out of its mouth. Shaj was still alive though; Dan could hear his laboured breathing, but Dan didn't know how long he would live. The Ferazi wasn't moving much, and hadn't made a sound since he had knocked the wizard into the pentagram. The only signs of life were breathing, an occasionally blink of the eyes, and a twitch of the Ferazi's mouth. Dan wondered if he should finish the roo off and put it out of its misery, or if Dan were too much of a coward, maybe leave it to die. But Dan couldn't do either of those, especially not after Shaj had helped them so much, and had even killed the wizard. Although it was odd, Shaj had saved Dan and John's life. But the Ferazi was lying on the ground, probably dying, and Dan didn't know what he could do to help. Perhaps he could do what Mike had done, take the Ferazi home and care for him, and hopefully Shaj wouldn't die in the processes. The thought of caring for a roo somehow seemed repulsive to Dan, proabbly because he had been brought up believing in their sinister nature, and that a dead Ferazi was better than a live one, or perhaps it was the social stigma which might be attached to Dan if he were found harboring an enemy. But he couldn't just let Shaj lie here and die, and the only alternative was to take him home. "John," yelled Dan, "Help me pick Shaj up." John walked over and stared down at the Ferazi along with Dan. 1445 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "We've got to take Shaj with us. Lets pull him away from the... thing." Dan took a very brief glance at the demon when he said this, and for the first time he heard the monster, although Dan had subconsciously registered the demon's cries all along. They were very faint, almost inaudible, and they were diverse, like every shape was shouting a muted scream. He heard faint roars from lions, people silently yelling in terror and pain, and other sounds, like conglomerations of different beast's cries, or even a mix of human and beast. They were awful, and Dan couldn't wait to get away from them. John didn't answer, but he grabbed one of Shaj's arms and Dan got the other. The two pulled Shaj away from the demo, dragging his body over the flagstones. Shaj took a deep gasp of air and gave an inhuman groan of pain, probably from the numerous broken bones shifting around. Once the two had dragged Shaj's body a safe distance from the demon, Dan stopped and decided that it was time to carry it. "Okay, lets pick 'im up and walk him out 've here." Dan and John picked up the Ferazi by his shoulders and that wrapped his furred arms around each of their necks, each one to a side. Dan ended up with his left arm, and John with the Ferazi's right. "C'mon Shaj, lets walk," said Dan, hoping that the Ferazi would gain enough consciousness to walk. John and Dan walked away from the demon with Shaj propped up inbetween them, but the Ferazi didn't help walk them any. It's long feet dragged along the ground behind him, without the slightest attempt to propel himself along, and his head just rolled around from side to side. Dan was relieved, though, that he heard the Ferazi breathing and saw his eyes blink occasionally, proving that Shaj hadn't given up and died yet. With some effor, the two managed to get the comatose Shaj around the pentagram and up the stairs into the wizard's sitting room. Although the Ferazi didn't make any sound, Dan listened to Shaj's breathing and noticed how it took a gasp whenever Shaj's broken leg bounced against the stairway, and then returned to its laboured 1446 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 rasping until the next jar. Getting the Ferazi through the trap door was difficult, but Dan and John eventually managed to get him through and into the sitting room, where they placed Shaj onto one of the wizard's plush chairs. When Shaj was finally sitting down in a normal sitting position, Dan noticed how badly Shaj's leg bone was broken, and although he didn't know anything about doctoring, Dan realized that he had to do the best that he could do with Shaj's injuries. He examined the body for any obvious signs of injury but was hampered by Shaj's chainmail and even his fur, which prevented any bruises from showing. Dan did notice that Shaj's left leg had a bad break just below the knee, with enough damange that the Ferazi's knee had gained an extra hinge. Shaj's left shoulder seemed to have swollen up, but Dan couldn't find any broken bones; Maybe it had been popped out of its joint, or badly twisted. Because of Shaj's breathing, Dan suspected that one or more of Shaj's ribs were broken but any damange was impossible to see underneath the armor and fur, and some cursory probing with his fingers couldn't find anything. The only visible injury which appeared to be serious was the broken leg, and Dan felt that he should do his best to fix it now before they threw Shaj on his horse. The only problem was that Dan didn't exactly know how to set a leg. "John, d 'ya know how to set a broken leg" "No," answered John. "Damn! I wish Chris were here." He'd know what to do. Hell, Shaj probably knew how to set a leg, but he was too dazed to do anything. Not knowing the details of setting a broken bone, Dan did his best to improvize. With his left hand, he grabbed the bone just below Shaj's knee, and then grabbed onto the leg's ankle, if it could properly be called that on a Ferazi, with his right hand. Dan then pulled the bone out and twisted the leg bone around to its proper position. Shaj's breathing increased and he gave a slight moan. Dan found himself saying, "Okay, I know it hurts, but it'll just be a minute." Dan then let the muscles pull the bone in place and looked at his work. The leg looked straight, or at least straight enough for now. 1447 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Now all that Dan had to do was make a splint for the Ferazi's leg, but after looking around the room for a minute, he was unable to find anything. He asked John, "Do you have anything for a splint." John looked around a bit and then answered, "No, but there might be some in another room." Dan didn't feel like exploring the mansion anymore, but only wanted to get out. "Never mind, we'll put a splint on later. Let's go. I don't want t' stary around here." "I agree." Dan moved over to Shaj's left side and picked up he shoulder. "Here, you get Shaj's other shoulder." John complied and the two nestled Shaj in between them once again, supporting all of Shaj's weight. The two walked out of the room, dragging Shaj's legs behind him, and found their way into the manion's feuyer, which they had found in their search earlier tonight. It seemed like a week ago to Dan. With great difficulty, Dan and John managed to lift up the bar which locked the double doors, all of the while doing their best to prevent Shaj from sliding off and landing on the ground. But when they finially got the bar off, they pushed open both doors and walked out of the mansion. They weren't nearly as cautious leaving as they had been when they snuck in, but walked right down the main pathway to the gate. When the group reached the gate, Dan remembered that it had been locked before and that the three had to climb it. Now that Shaj was unconscious and sporting several broken bones, climbing it would be nearly impossible. "Shit! What are we gonna do now? We can't climb that with Shaj." Dan tried to figure out how to pull Shaj underneath one of the bushes. "Uhh," answered John. "Let me go pull at the lock some more. It seemed kind'a loose before." "Why didn't you say so before?"
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November 12, 2011 "You didn't give me a chance, being all heroic and climbing the gate before I could say anything." Dan had to admit that he was pretty eager to climb the gate. "Hell, might as well try." John let go of Shaj and walked over to the gate, grabbed ahold of the padlock, and pulled with all his might. Surprisingly, it opened up! John slid the "U" out of the gate and pushed the gate open. It sequaked a bit but Dan didn't really care. John proceeded out of the gate and walked around the corner, returning just a moment later with Shajshevaj's horse in towe. John brought the horse up to Dan and Shaj. "Okay, let's get him on the horse." The two maneuvered shaj onto the horse, though some complex maneuvering was required to prevent the unconscious Ferazi from sliding off. The two eventually got Shaj sitting upright on the horse, but he flopped forward as soon as Dan and John turned their backs. Rather than fussing with the Ferazi's sitting position, Dan found a leather strap in the saddle bags and tied Shaj's arms to each other so that they were effectively holding onto the horse's neck. Taking a moment to listened to Shaj's laboured breathing, Dan verified that the Ferazi was still alive before he led the horse out of the wizard's estate. John closed the gate behind them, and Dan gave a sigh of relief. While Dan lead Shaj's horse away from the mansion, he listened to the Ferazi's heavy and painful breathing, looking over ocasionally to make sure that Shaj was staying on the horse. Although Dan kept on hoping that Shaj would wake up, he noticed that the Ferazi's eyes were had closed, and was forced to admit that Shaj would not regain consciouness any time soon. This was a problem since now that they had rescued the Ferazi, they had to do something with him. Of course, Shaj's people in the little warren would know how to care for Shaj and would undoubtedly do a better job of it than Dan or John could, but Shaj was unconscious now. If Dan and John showed up with a seemingly-dead Ferazi into the ghetto then the two humans would be quickly murdered by revenging Ferazi. It wouldn't be until after Shaj woke up that the two, now dead, would be exhonerated. That wasn't a good alternative. 1449 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Chris was the next most likely person to take Shaj to, but even if Chris' parents could somehow be kept ignorant of a recourperating Ferazi in their house, Chris' current mental state wasn't very stable. That eliminated Chris. Joghn would never let the creature in his house. That left Dan with only one choice, his own place. He was the only one who ever came into his apartment, he had the room, and he could easily give up his bed for awhile. It was the only alternative. "We'll take him to my place," said Dan John just looked at Dan for a monet but didn't object. At the next road, the group headed off towards Dan's apartment. When the group had hiked down to the bottom of the hill, about half way to Dan's apartment, Dan's weary brain was rudely awakened. He carelessly turned onto a side road with Shaj's horse in towe, and noticed two men carrying a lantern about twenty meters down the road. Although he coudln't make out enough features to know if they were dangerous, Dan didn't want to encounter anyone tonight. He aborted his turn and continued down the street which he had been one. John seemed to notice the queue and followed Dan down the street. Dan's heart-rate skyrocketed and he only hoped that his maneuver hadn't attracted any attention. He continued down the street as natural as he could, considering that adrenaline was screaming through his body and he leading a horse with a wounded Ferazi on it. Dan and John managed to get about ten meters down the road before he heard a commanding voice behind him. "You there! Halt fer tha guard!" directed the voice. "Fuck!" though Dan. Those men must have been the guard, and now he was in trouble. What could he do? Dan looked around to see where the two guardsmen were, hoping that he had enough distance between them so that he could run. Unforuntaly, they were only about ten meters away, and one of them had a crossbow. 1450 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan considered running, but he was armored, tired, and pulling a loaded horse behind him. He wouldn't be able to get away. Of course, he could forgot the horse and left it behind, along with Shaj, Dan might have a chance. But the chance of getting away was still too slim, especially with the crossbow. Maybe he could do the costume party bit, and claim that Shaj's fur was just a really good cotume. Dan pulled the horse around and waited while the guard came forward. The two of them were wearning leather armor. One carried a sword in his right hand and a lantern in his left, and the other had a cocked and aimed crossbow pointing at Dan and John. The two guardsmen slowly walked forward, one of them with his held it up to look over Dan. He seemed to be the more senior one, about forty years old. The one with the crossbow was young and in his tenties. "So what might yi' be up ta?" asked the older guard. "Uh, just... just a costume party." Dan noticed that his mouth was dry. "A costume party is it? Well what's yer costume?" In their hurry to get away from the wizard's mansion, and their mental exhaustion, Dan and John had both forgotten to cover themselves up with their cloaks. "You see, we're dressed as Derek Halfstar, or at least I am," answered Dan. "And who might the other guy be? A second Halfwit?" Dan waited a second for John to answer for himself, but John's silence forced Dan to do the work. "Oh no, he's my trusty companion, George." "No, not that one. The one who's nearly falling of that horse." The officer pointed to the horse. Dan, looked around to find out how much the guardsman could actually see of Shaj's body. Luckily, it wasn't much. "Oh that, that's Fred. He's just trashed. You know..." Dan took a swig out of an imaginary beer mug in order to emphasize the point. 1451 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 "Would yi please move aside from Fred then," stated the cop. Not wishing to get into any more trouble than they already were, both Dan and John obeyed, and moved away from the horse. The guard walked up to the horse, held up his lantern and Dan watched the man's face gain a thoughful expression when he saw the fur. Now they were fucked. "Look 't what we've got here. It seems that Fred 'z a roo." Dan cringed, partially because he fate was sealed, but also because he worried that Shaj might here the insult and bezerkly attack the guard. Fortunately, Shaj didn't move or even twitch, but just continued on with his rasping breathing. He was porbably unconscious, and that was a good thing for Dan. "Oh," said Dan as he tried to hold to his story, "That's just a really good costume." The old guardsman looked up and gave Dan a nasty look. "Yi can cut the crap guys." Dan's heart was racing so loud and fast that he wondered if the guard could here it. His life was essentially over but he was too cowardly to do anything. Shaj would have killed both of the guards by now. Dan stood motionless and watched the older man walk over to Shaj's head, pull open the Ferazi's eyelid, and shine the lantern right in Shaj's eye. Satisfied, he let the eyelid close and then looked over the Ferazi's head. "Yi should be more careful next time. It ain't dead yet." That comment took Dan by surprised. The guard must think that they had attacked Shaj themselves. "Well, we don't want it dead quite yet," answered Dan, playing along with a new story. "Ohhhh, I understand. Yer gonna have some fun with 't." "Yeah," Dan nodded in agreement. 1452 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The guard let out a deep breath through is nose. "I see that yee've cut off its ears already. Yi wouldn't happen ta have one that yi could give me... Fer my kids, ye know." Dan remembered seeing Shaj pick up his severed ear off the gound, but at this moment of tension, couldn't remember were Shaj put it. He briefly considered rummaging though the packs, but decided that it might look odd. Roo hunters didn't put the roo ears back on the dead bodies. "No officer," answered Dan with as penitent a voice as he could muster, "I'm sorry, but the other guys in our group got them. We're kind've tha clean-up." "Oh well, that's too bad." The guard sheathed his sword, and took a few steps closer to Dan. "I jest wanted yi to know... on behalf of me and tha guys at the guard, that we're on yer side." Dan was amazed. "You are?" "Hell, of course. We hate tha roos 'z much as yi do, but we're not allowed to do anythin." "Oh." Dan didn't know what else to say. The guard held out his hand for a handshake. Although it was odd thing to happen, Dan shook the guards hand. "Now be careful, cause its not dead yet, so its still dangerous." "Thank you. We'll be careful." "No, its my pleasure." The guard tipped his hat, turned around, and then walked off, followed by his partner with the crossbow. Dan and John both watched the guard leave and stopped holding their breath when the police rounded the corner and were gone. Neither of 1453 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 them said a word, but they grabbed hold of the horse's reins and headed back to Dan's apartment. On his way back to his apartment, thoughts about the last few weeks began to invade Dan's mind. Now that the job was essentially done, and Mike's murderer was killed, Dan started questioning what he had just accomplished. Dan felt saddened. He had become an adventurer-for-hire, as Chris had called it, to make money, rid the world of evil, and at the very least to do some good. Dan had naively expected to solve some mystery, catch a few criminals for the police, and then escape from the city an honorable man. That was a month ago. The quest to help someone had become a quest for revenge of Mike's death. Because of it, two people, Roy and the wizard, had died. No, that wasn't right. Siz people had died, because four of the wizard's henchmen were killed, one of them by Dan. To make things worse, Chris had a mental breakdown and might never be the same again, and Shashevaj was severely injured. Dan wondered if the Ferazi would live through the night. Instead of becoming bold adventurers, Dan and John had subtly transformed into the hired assassins for a heartless guild. Whether or not they were identified as assasins, tonight's trio were criminals and would soon become fugitives, if only in their own minds. And for what? Dan didn't even know if Caylan was really Mike's murderer. He had never gotten a chance to ask the wizard, and even if Caylan had ordered Mike's death, was it Dan's right to avenge it? What if Mike had been enacting some treachery against Caylan, and like pawns, Chris, John, and Dan had naively believed that Mike was somehow innocent and undeserving of his death. After all, though Dan, it would require an important figure to attract the attention of such a powerful wizard. So what did Dan really accomplish? 1454 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Murder. And if he was lucky, Dan would walk out of Inviroth a rich man. But was it worth it? Dan didn't know.
CHAPTER 39: BUGBUG
Dan, John, and Shaj made it back to Dan's apartment without any further incident, and with John's help, Dan got Shaj up the stairs, into Dan's apartment, and onto his bed. Since Shaj was still unconscious, Dan pulled up a blanket and pillow on the floor and went to sleep. The next morning, when Dan woke up, Shaj was still breathing and seemed to have moved himself during the night, but Dan wasn't sure of Shaj's position on the previous night. After waking up himself, Dan gave Shaj a drink. He held of the Ferazi's head, pryed open Shaj's jaw with his fingers, and then poured a few drops into Shaj's mouth. He set the mug down by the bed in case Shaj woke up and then went off to a long day of work, most of it spent imagining sleep. On his way home Dan picked up some wood for a splint and leather straps, hoping that Shaj had survived the day. The Ferazi had survived, and had even opened his eyes, which stared blankly at the room and blinked occasionally. After giving Shaj some more to drink, Dan re-checked and positioned Shaj's leg and then put the splint on. Shaj recovered over the next few days, and even regained fulled consciousness by the first night. Because Shaj was unable to get out of bed, Dan was forced to nurse him back to health, helping Shaj drink and acquiring food for the Ferazi. This wasn't 1455 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 any easy task since Dan didn't know exactly what to get and Shaj didn't know the names for any of the food, except in his own language. Dan, however, had heard that the small fluffy variety of roos ate carrots and lettus when he was young, so that's what he got. Shaj ate them and didn't complain at all, and over the next few days Dan experimented and brought home different fruits and vegitables, finding out that lettuce and carrots weren't such a bad choice, and that Shaj also seemed to like cucumbers and radishes a lot. He didn't like grapes though, and even told Dan so. After about two weeks and twentry varieties of vegitables, Shaj had recovered enough of his strength to be able to sit up in bed, and even supported himself with his good leg. A few nights after Shaj was good enough to limp around, Dan got Shaj's horse from the stables where he had temporarily borded it, and led it to his apartment. With Dan and John's help, Shaj made it down the stairs and onto his horse. Since Shaj was still weak, Dan and John led the horse to the little warren where they could leave Shaj with someone better able to care for them. As soon as they stepped foot in the warren, the three were quickly surrounded by Ferazi, armed with swords and spears. If Shaj had not been around, Dan and John would have been quickly killed, but Shaj said something in his native tongue which relaxed the sourrounding war-party enough that they put away their weapons. One of the Ferazi broke ranks and walked up to Shaj. The two had a quiet conversation, and then he grabbed the horse's reigns and led Shaj away. Before they had gone too far, the Ferazi stopped, turned around Shaj's horse, and then both he and Shaj gave a slight bow to Dan and John. They turned back around and then disappeared, followed by the other Ferazi which had encircled the humans. Dan and John never saw Shaj again. While Shaj spent two weeks convolescing in Dan's apartment, Dan took some time out to wrap up business. He took one night and visited Susan in order to inform her that the job was done and that there was nothing else that Dan and John could do. Susan agreed, thanked Dan, and then handed him a purse of money. Dan thanked her, and then took leave of Susan. A week after that, only a few days before Shaj returned to the little warren, Dan took another visit to Mike's factory. This time, when he knocked on the door and asked to see the manager, the paranoid man was quicker to appear. He didn't say much to 1456 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Dan though, but curtly told Dan to show up at a wharehouse at the edge of town two days later. Dan showed up at the appointed time and place, and met the nameless manager in a shadowed alley. Dan was handed another purse of money and thanked for a job well done. The manager asked Dan what he was going to do now, and offered Dan a job, saying that he could always use some good people. However, Dan wasn't too eager to hang around Inviroth so he graciously declined, answering that he was heading up north. The meeting ended at that point, and Dan went his way, hurrying on home so that he could count the money that was in the purse. It turned out to be forty thousand dollars exactly. Two weeks later, after Shaj had left and Dan had collected all of his fees, Dan finished packing up all of his stuff onto his new horse. He had moved all of his large belongings, such as furntiture and extra clothing, to his parents house a few days ago. Last night he had informed his landlord that he was leaving and paid him off. John was already waiting outside, sitting on his own horse, when Dan grabbed the last of his belongings and walked down the stairs. Not having had any chance to practive his riding, Dan awkwardly mounted his horse, took one last look at his apartment, and then spurred his horse. Half an hour later, the two left inviroth's gates and headed north. Dan had given Chris the opportunity to come with them, and even though Chris had recovered enough that he was willing to talk to Dan, Chris declined, saying that he wasn't ready to go. Before Dan left, he gave Chris some of the money from the job. Chris moped around his parents house for the next few months and gradually recovered to his normal self, even to his point where his mother thought that homelife would return to normal. The peace didn't last because three months after Chris' breakdown, he received a letter delievered all of the way from XXX. Two days later his mother knocked on his bedroom door to wake him up but after Chris didn't emerge, she opened the door, peeked in, and saw Chris' empty, well-made bed. Sitting on the bed was a good-bye letter from Chris; He had gone off north to find Dan and John. Shashevaj, meanwhile, stayed around the little warren for several months, allowing his wounds to heal, and occasionally making a trip to the wharehouse at night. There, he would wander around the passages for hours at a time and wonder if exposing 1457 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 the entrance to the tunnels would betray Mike. Many times he rebuked himself for thinking that no other human besides Mike would rescue him. Dan and John had saved his life. Maybe not all humans were the enemy. Once Shaj had made up his mind, he returned home to his family as a failure because he claimed that he hadn't found the underground. Eventually, Shaj proved himself in a family dispute with another Ferazi clan and was allowed to marry Hyzanthiya. Over time and further accomplishments, Shaj's mother permitted him to marry several other wives, all of which bore him many grandchilden. Shaj would sit outside underneath a tree outside of his house, nibbling on clover and watching his children play in the fields. Occasionally he would finger the rememberence which hung on the necklace around his neck. Visitors would often notice this quirk and incquire whom Shaj honored so much. Shaj would answer, "Mike." "That's an unusual name," was the stranger's usual reply. And then, Shaj would begin talking about his stay in Inviroth among the humans, how he was ambushed, rescuved by a human, and then how be befriended the human. He continued on with his anectode and told his listeners of Mike's murder, Shaj's revenge upon his killer, and then Shaj's rescue. After listening to the entire tale, the visitor would walk away with a good bit to think about, and maybe even a better impression of humans. And, maybe, just maybe, Shaj's words postponed the next Humand-Ferazi war for a few prescious years.
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FOR MORE STORIES You can download more of my short stories for free from:
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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BEHIND THE STORIES, A DUMMY’S GUIDE TO TH THE 25 CENTURY
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GEOPOLITICAL RAMIFICATIONS OF UFO/ALIEN DISCLOSURE
[email protected]
Circular UFO photographed above my house – http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds2.JPG
EXECUTIVE SUMMARY For now, assume (a) that aliens exist, and (b) that I have been communicating with them. I’ll discuss the evidence for (b) later. 1461 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 NOTE: This document is best read on a computer because you’ll need to click on the thumbnail images to download larger versions of the images off the internet.
TECHNOLOGY ZONES The Earth is currently divided into several technology zones:
Many alien civilizations have better technology than is currently found on Earth, with “galactic standard” (A) level – which includes interplanetary and interstellar transportation, as well as dimensional shifting. Earth’s history, particularly the history of the Americas, Africa, and Australia, provides examples of what can happen when a high-tech society encounters a lowtech society, and doesn’t carefully and morally manage the situation. Aliens do not wish to colonize Earth, just as Europeans no longer wish to colonize other nations.
DIFFERENT DISCLOSURE “PATHS” THAT THE PEOPLE (OF EARTH) AND ALIENS MIGHT CHOOSE
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November 12, 2011 Alien “disclosure” might follow one of four paths:
DISCLOSURE OPTION/PATH: NO DISCLOSURE “No disclosure” is the current “path”, and may continue to be the “path” depending upon what the aliens and people (of Earth) decide. In “no disclosure”, the aliens leave the earth alone and let humans invent their own technology, ramping up to galactic standard over hundreds of thousands of years. This direction has several downsides:
People (from Earth) may not be capable of travelling outside the solar system for a half a century or more. Fifty years from now, when people (of Earth) do make contact with aliens, Earth nations might have more advanced weaponry. If the Earth nations are belligerent, this could result in war.
As per Philip Corso’s book, “The Day after Roswell” (http://www.amazon.com/Day-After-Roswell-PhilipCorso/dp/067101756X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258256300&sr =8-1), alien technology will inevitably be smuggled to Earth and reverseengineered. This technology might include devices and weaponry that destabilized Earth’s societies. Low-tech regions of Africa are similarly destabilized when high-tech nations sell their medium-tech weaponry to despots.
DISCLOSURE OPTION/PATH: TRADE ONLY Earth’s technology is, in general, low-tech compared to the galactic standard. Most of what aliens would wish to trade with the Earth would be commodities. Earth’s silicon-chip industry may be more advanced than many alien societies, though. (Note: I am uncertain of the silicon-chip technology lead due to misinformation commonly used by aliens. I’ll explain alien “misinformation” later.) 1463 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This route also has drawbacks:
Without any technology, Earth’s economy may gradually be turned into a commodity-based economy based on mining and agriculture, and some tourism. Mining resources will eventually be exhausted, leaving Earth with only an agrarian and tourist economy… which sounds a lot like what is happening to Australia.
Brain drain will occur as higher-skilled people (from Earth) leave the Earth for better opportunities elsewhere (just as skilled Australians are moving to the USA and UK). Ultimately, Earth may be left with a low-skilled agrarian population.
DISCLOSURE OPTION/PATH: CULTURAL EXCHANG E Several thousand (or hundred thousand) people (from other planets) could live and work on Earth. A like number of people (from Earth) could live and work on other planets. A cultural exchange program is usually an intermediate step. If it doesn’t work well, then “Trade only” or “No disclosure” options are possible. (See Project Serpo, http://www.serpo.org/, for a cultural exchange that is part of the internet-UFO mythology.) If the cultural exchange is successful, then “Technology transition zones” might be created. (See below.) Cultural exchanges are not required. Earth-based nations might decide to bypass them and immediately open up “technology transition zones”.
DISCLOSURE OPTION/PATH: TECHNOLOGY TRANSITION ZONES
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November 12, 2011 Some regions of Earth could be designated as “technology-transition zones” where aliens would be allowed to live and operate high-tech industries in conjunction with people (of Earth), similar to the high-tech zones along the US/Mexico border. Drawbacks occur here:
The zones will need to be located in pleasant geographic locations where both people (of Earth) and aliens wish to live. Very few people (of Earth) or aliens wish to live in inhospitable deserts or cold climates.
The zones should be located in regions of the world with low violence and minimum amounts of racism or religious intolerance.
Brain drain will occur on Earth as higher-skilled people (of Earth) move to the technology transition zones from low-tech regions of the Earth (“B” technology and below).
Brain drain will occur from Earth nations that do not provide pleasant geographical locations for technology-transition-zones to Earth nations that do provide pleasant geographical locations. Given a choice of living in Siberia or the Australian coast, most people (from Earth) would choose the Australian coast. The same can be said for aliens.
Technology transition zones in currently poor nations may lead to corruption in the governments of the poor nations, much as oil drilling and mining by companies from rich Earth nations currently encourages corruption in poor nations.
Will high-tech products produced in technology transition zones be allowed to be exported to low-tech non-transition zones? How is this enforced?
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WHO BENEFITS MOST FROM “TECHNOLOGY TRANSITION ZONES”? What countries and cities will benefit most from technology transition zones? 1.
The nations and cities that are ideal candidates for technology transition zones are (a) in stable and safe countries, (b) in desirable locations where humans already live, (c) with available land to expand the city, and (d) in cultures with low-levels of racism and religious intolerance.
2.
The nations and cities with “low-levels of racism” are usually immigrant nations, such as Australia, the United States, and to a lesser extent, Europe.
3.
The nations and cities that are best suited for technology transition zones are those willing to “gamble” on allowing aliens to live and become citizens of the nation/city. Such nations/cities are usually small and isolated.
4.
If aliens have their travel and holidays restricted to small portions of a nation, they are less likely to wish to move to the technology transition zone, and may decide to live in a less-restrictive country.
Australia is ideally suited for a technology transition zone:
Australia is a stable and safe country.
Australia is an immigrant society with relatively low-levels of racism and religious intolerance.
Australia is currently a commodity and tourist based economy, and understands that its mining resources won’t last forever.
Australia currently has no substantial high-tech industry and could benefit from a technology transition zone to counter the eventual decline of mining.
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November 12, 2011 Australia, being a small country, may be willing to let aliens live and travel throughout the entire country.
Australia, being an immigrant society, may be willing to let aliens become citizens.
In particular, Darwin is better suited than most Australian cities because it is a small immigrant-based city… which is why many aliens have been exploring the Darwin region. (See below for more details.) As someone who has lived in Darwin for a decade: Darwin is a likely city for a technology-transition zone because if/when the Australian parliament votes on where to let the “aliens” live, 99% of the Australian population will say, “Send them to Darwin”, just as 99% of the Australian population decided to deposit nuclear waste near Katherine, NT (http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200507/s1414995.htm). Conversely, the people of Darwin are going to think, “A high-tech industry is certainly better than oil and gas ruining our pristine coastline.” (http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/09/14/2685394.htm)
http://www.disclosuree.com/DarwinSatellite.png
The west coast of the Unites States may also be suitable, particularly small cities like Portland, Oregon, and Albuquerque, New Mexico, and others. Small, isolated cities in other nations may also be suitable. 1467 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Australia may be competing with the USA, Russia, China, UK, India, etc. to try and set up technology transition zones. How “hungry” is Australia for a high-tech industry?
Would the United States (and other nations) be willing to let aliens travel freely, or would alien travel be restricted to a few small, isolated cities? If the USA or other nations restricted aliens to small, isolated cities, would Australia be “hungry” enough and multicultural enough to let aliens live anywhere in Australia?
Would the USA let aliens become citizens, or just temporary residents? Would Australia be “hungry” enough and multicultural enough to let aliens become citizens and/or permanent residents?
UNDERSTANDING “ALIENS” (PEOPLE FROM OTHER PLANETS) WHY PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) ARE VISITING EARTH Aliens are people, but they come from other planets. People (from other planets) wish to visit Earth for the same reasons that people (from Earth) travel to other nations:
Trade Employment Change of lifestyle and place to live Holidays Research Education Etc.
If people (from other planets) wanted to invade or colonize earth, they would have done so thousands of years ago.
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UNDERSTANDING THE PERSONALITIES OF PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) IMPORTANT: People (from other planets) do not necessarily act or perceive the world in the same way as people (from Earth) do. People (from Earth) are too used to interacting with only other people (from Earth) and don’t quite understand that people (from other planets) may approach life from a different perspective. The best way to understand people from other planets is to interact with them. Failing that, someone (from Earth) could spend several years volunteering or working at a zoo and interacting with various semi-intelligent species such as large parrots, dolphins, elephants, and dinosaurs.
http://www.dolphinsc.com/images/Dolphin.jpg, http://www.curatormagazine.com/wpcontent/uploads/2009/05/dinosaur.jpg - (I have been told by people (from
other planets) that this image of a velociraptor is almost completely wrong.)
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November 12, 2011 Interacting with semi-intelligent placental mammals (such as dogs) does not provide sufficient understanding of different personalities. You might try purchasing and interacting with a pet parrot (large macaw or cockatoo) to understand how differently some people (from other planets) behave. As any parrot owner will tell you, large parrot personalities are significantly different to placental mammal personalities. Parrot owners often have scars on their fingers to prove the point.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Payaso2.JPG
Understanding non-European cultures also helps, such as cultures from the far-east, and Australian-aboriginal cultures.
SOME PERSONALITY “QUIRKS” TO WATCH OUT FOR When interacting with people (from other planets):
Every interaction may be a test of intelligence and/or character.
Every interaction may be a game.
Every interaction may be a lesson.
Lessons might be taught using humor.
Give a person to fish and they eat for a day. Teach a person to fish and they eat for a lifetime. Teach a person to learn to learn to learn how to fish and
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November 12, 2011 they can invent spaceships.
People from other planets often provide misinformation, because of miscommunication and/or the intentional control of information. Misinformation is also provided as a way of testing intelligence/character, as a game, and as a lesson. It also encourages people to think for themselves, and learn how to weed out lies. Misinformation is used to obscure the information in case anyone else is listening in on the conversation.
Don’t assume human emotions.
People (from other planets) don’t use the same facial expressions and body motions to convey emotions as humans. For example, the Anasazi “greys” will tilt their eyes down when they’re happy and tilt them level when they’re angry. People (from Earth) often misread the eyes tilted down as anger instead of happiness, and vice versa.
Don’t assume human gender roles.
Humor works well, but different people (from other planets) have different styles of humor.
Tit-for-tat is common. Never get in a “tit-for-tat” war.
People (from other planets) are people. If treated like automatons or technology vending-machines, they often react negatively, the same as people (from Earth). Unlike people (from Earth), people (from other planets) may show their displeasure in non-human ways that are intentionally designed to show humans that they are acting like humans.
“FIRST CONTACT”
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November 12, 2011 Early encounters with people (from other planets) are particularly difficult and dangerous:
Many people (from other planets) are telepathic. Don’t try to lie to them. Be careful of negative emotions; if the people (from Earth) are afraid, then the people (from other planets) will be afraid, which will cause the people (from Earth) to be more afraid, resulting in even more fear from the people (from other planets), etc.
Don’t assume that people (from other planets) understand languages from Earth or even human thoughts. Misunderstandings easily occur, particularly with the words “left” vs. “right”, and the use of the word “not” vs. the lack of the word “not”.
Don’t carry weapons, and don’t think about using weapons. People (from other planets) can detect weapons, as well as thoughts of violence. This may result in a tit-for-tat wearing of stun weapons by people (from other planets) and increased fear (that is further amplified by telepathic abilities).
Early encounters with people (from other planets) are moderately dangerous because people (from Earth) are afraid, and the people (from other planets) are afraid, and fear quickly amplifies itself due to telepathic people.
People (from other planets) have technologies which let them travel anywhere on earth “invisibly”, both in their UFOs and in “encounter” suits. During a planned encounter with a visible UFO and people (from other planets), cloaked (invisible) UFOs and people (from other planets) may also be present.
Don’t try to negotiate with people (from other planets) at first. Begin trade negotiations with people (from other planets) by freely offering a small amount of a product. See what the person (from another planet) offers in
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November 12, 2011 return. Repeat until a relationship is established.
Many people (from other planets) had bad experiences with the US military in the 1950’s – 1980’s. In particular, they distrust “top secret” projects, and young males in military uniforms (aka: soldiers, or AJ’s (army jerks)) who often quickly become afraid and/or aggressive.
People (from other planets) are wary of meeting with political leaders because (a) they know that early encounters are dangerous and they truly do not wish to see political leaders get hurt, (b) meetings with human political leaders dictate that people (from other planets) send down their equivalent political leaders (which requires even more security), and (c) the more security/military in an encounter, the greater the chances of accidental conflict.
EVIDENCE OF UFOS IN THE TOP-END OF AUSTRALIA I can’t prove that UFOs and/or aliens exist. Why? Because some people still believe that the earth is flat, that men never landed on the moon, and/or that the world was created in six days. I can provide compelling evidence for the existence of UFOs in the top-end of Australia though… The top-end of Australia has many UFOs flying over it because: 1.
People (from other planets) realize that Darwin might make a very good technology transfer zone, for all the stated reasons.
2.
Australia has no anti-UFO weapons (unlike the USA) and its military doesn’t seem to mind the UFOs flying around. If Australia ever acquires anti-UFO weaponry then South America might become more attractive.
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November 12, 2011 3. The unpopulated regions around Darwin provide ample free parking for UFOs… which you can think of as flying camper-vans. 4.
The top-end of Australia has many hard-to-reach tourist sites (aka: waterfalls, swimming holes, and spectacular vistas) that are inaccessible by car, but easily accessed by UFOs.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Litchfield3.jpg
EVIDENCE THAT MANY UFOS ARE “PARKED” IN THE TOP-END OF AUSTRALIA Please take a look at the image, "Satellite shadows 1" of the town of Batchelor, NT, the closest town to my house. Notice the triangular cloud, about 700m long. The Google maps link is: http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=batchelor, +nt&sll=25.335448,135.745076&sspn=41.917163,78.662109&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Batchelo r+NT&ll=-13.057991,131.043291&spn=0.044899,0.076818&t=h&z=14
http://www.disclosuree.com/SatelliteShadows1.jpg
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November 12, 2011 Please look at the image, "Satellite shadows 2". Notice all the oddly-shaped symmetrical clouds. Some of the cloud shadows are actually more-symmetrical than the clouds. Unlike most cloud shadows found elsewhere in Google maps, these cloud shadows have a purple hue. The Google maps link is: http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=batchelor, +nt&sll=25.335448,135.745076&sspn=41.917163,78.662109&ie=UTF8&t=h&hq=&hnear=Bat chelor+NT&ll=-12.880672,131.356058&spn=0.044931,0.076818&z=14
http://www.disclosuree.com/SatelliteShadows2.jpg
Look at the image, "House 40" (a photo of my house). Notice the triangular clouds. The Google maps link for my house is: http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=850+chinn er+road,+lake+bennett,+nt&sll=25.335448,135.745076&sspn=38.591031,86.220703&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=850+Chi nner+Rd,+Lake+Bennett+NT+0822&t=h&z=16
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/House40.JPG
Look at the image, "Moon 4" (a night shot photographed near my house). Notice the triangular cloud with an attached "cloud" at the back of it. This image was taken with a 60-second exposure, causing the cloud to blur as it moved through the sky; the cloud moved contrary to the wind direction.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Moon4.JPG
How many triangular clouds do you see in nature? The simple answer: None. Triangular clouds are not natural. Look at the image "Plane 1". You'll need to zoom into the center of the image to see the plane in detail. Also note the images "Plane 3" and "Plane 4". How many jet airplanes have you seen with no Qantas/airline markings, no windows, no engines, an odd pod underneath the wings, and oddly-shaped wings and fuselage? Also notice the color of the plane; it does not look like aluminum. The underbelly metal reflection is cyan-colored; the underbelly should be green since it should be reflecting the color of the ground.
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November 12, 2011
http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane1.JPG, http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane3.JPG, http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane4.JPG
In the image "Plane 4", notice the contrails. I saw the plane fly from south to north, (unfortunately) didn't see it turn around, and about 60 seconds later saw it flying from north to south along a parallel path. How many jet aircraft can turn around that quickly? Also notice that the contrails aren’t entirely normal – the jet seems to be able to turn the contrails on and off at will.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane4.JPG
Returning back to the clouds, look at "House 37", "House 41", and "House 42”. Notice the non-triangular shaped clouds. Look on "Satellite shadows 2" and you'll see many of the same cloud-shapes repeated. Notice how symmetrical the clouds are.
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/House37.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/House41.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/House42.JPG
http://www.disclosuree.com/SatelliteShadows2.jpg
Look at the image, "homer_lenticular_cloud_small". Lenticular clouds are formed when air is pushed over the peak of a mountain. The air is forced to rise, causing water vapor to cool, and clouds to form. Importantly, the cloud only exists over the peak of the mountain.
http://www.disclosuree.com/homer_lenticular_cloud_small.jpg
All of the clouds in the images that I have E-mailed are "lenticular clouds". (This isn’t technically correct, but a full explanation would require more time.) The symmetrical triangle-shaped (and other-shaped) clouds occur when an object is pushed out of normal 3-dimensional space into a 4th dimension (in the mathematical sense of the word "dimension", not in the science-fiction sense). You can't actually see the object because it is out of the normal 3-dimensional plane, and doesn't react with light or normal matter, but you can see the lenticular cloud 1478 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 formed by the object. (The lenticular clouds are also partially formed by the engines of the UFO.) I can explain the physics in more detail, but my understanding of the physics is only based on conjecture. The photographed lenticular clouds are UFOs, which are parked over my house… or rather, my house was built under their parking lot. The UFOs push themselves out of normal 3-dimensional space so they can't be seen during the day, both by visible light or most radars. Do you know how many UFOs are parked in the "top end" of the Northern Territory of Australia? Look through the Google maps links (see below) and count them yourself. Several more are scattered around the top-end. Small, circular UFOs don't usually generate lenticular clouds. (For an image of a circular UFO, see "Night clouds 1", "Night clouds 2", and "Night clouds 3".)
http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds1.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds2.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds3.JPG
These lenticular clouds aren't just over the rural area of Darwin. I went UFO spotting in Darwin city. "Walk around town 2" is a photo taken of the units in Darwin's new waterfront district; notice the small triangle-shaped cloud in the upper-right corner of the image. "Walk around town 1" is a photograph of the same complex, with a larger symmetrical-shaped cloud in the center of the image, and the large triangularshaped cloud just behind it.
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November 12, 2011
http://www.disclosuree.com/WalkAroundTown1.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/WalkAroundTown2.JPG
MY PERSONAL INTERACTIONS WITH PEOPLE (FR OM OTHER PLANETS) A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL In late June 2009, I came down with a very bad flu (perhaps the swine flu). One month later I was hospitalized for several weeks due to an infection that impaired my thinking, potentially related to the swine flu. I suspect that the infection caused some sort of encephalitis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Encephalitis), but I'm not sure. (I can also point you to at least one paper that links swine flu to encephalitis.) All of the medical tests and brain scans showed that I was perfectly healthy, except for a severe infection. I can get the medical records if required. Coincidentally, a few weeks before I was hospitalized, some people (from other planets) decided to contact me… because my house was conveniently located underneath their parking lot. Fortunately for me, just as the presumed encephalitis became dangerous and my thinking became impaired, the people (from other planets) got me to drive down my 600m driveway and wander along the road (dazed-and-confused by that point) so that some people (from Earth) would see that I was ill, and they would take me to the hospital.
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November 12, 2011
My very-long driveway – http://www.disclosuree.com/GoogleHouse.png
Unfortunately, no people (from Earth) actually saw me wandering by the side of the road that night, so I spent some time wandering dazed-and-confused in the bush before a neighbor found me and took me home for the night. Without prompting from me (but perhaps because of prompting from people from other planets), my neighbors showed up at my house and rushed me to the hospital the next morning. Do you know why I now have even more lenticular clouds over my house? (See "House 37", "House 41", "House 42", "Night clouds 2", and "Moon 4".) Because the people (from other planets) were very worried about me, and started communicating with me.
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/House37.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/House41.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/House42.JPG
http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds2.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/Moon4.JPG
PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) ASK ME TO TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS People (from other planets) have kindly provided me with photo opportunities of the lenticular clouds that their UFOs produce. I have also taken a few night-shots of their safety/signal lights, which look like symmetrical patterns of stars, usually in a triangular configuration. The photos didn't turn out that well so I haven’t included them. "Night clouds 1", "Night clouds 2", and "Night clouds 3" is of a circular UFO (aka: flying saucer). I took the photo because some people (from other planets) suggested that the moon would make a nice photo. I was looking at the 30-second long-exposure timer, and didn’t even realize that I had taken a photo of a UFO until I viewed the images a few days later.
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds1.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds2.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/NightClouds3.JPG
One group of people (form other planets) flew a "plane" ("Plane 1", "Plane 3", "Plane 4") past my house; they asked me to come out with the camera, and as far as I understand, are interested in renting their supersonic passenger plane to the Australian government... which sounds completely bonkers if you think of them as "aliens" but quite obvious if you think of them as "people"... because people do trade goods and services, and people do care about other people, and people do like to talk to other people.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane1.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane3.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/Plane4.JPG
UFOs frequently fly over at night. They have blinking white and red lights that look similar, but not exactly like, jet aircraft. They also emit a sound like that of a jet aircraft (perhaps a recording). Darwin airport has very few flights, especially at night. (http://www.darwinairport.com.au/Flights/Arrivals/tabid/185/Default.aspx) To ensure that people don’t think the blinking lights are jet aircraft, the UFOs fly at times that jet aircraft do not normally fly. I haven’t bothered taking any photos of these UFOs because my camera isn’t sensitive enough at night. All I would photograph is a red and white streak.
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November 12, 2011 Stationary UFOs often turn on a bright light and pretend to be a star or cluster of stars. They simulate scintillation (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scintillation_(astronomy)), but they can’t (or won’t) quite simulate star scintillation accurately. The scintillation often varies between orange, cyan, and white. People (from other planets) have also requested that I come out at night and take photos of my car. See “Test night shot 2”, “Test night shot 3”, and “Test night shot 4”. If you zoom in on my car, you will notice a few semi-transparent faces, barely visible in the digital-camera low-light noise. The faces are of people (from other planets). They are semi-transparent because the people are wearing encounter suits that let them be nearly invisible. The people (from other planets) staged the shot because they would really like to take my car for a drive, particularly on the Northern Territory roads, which have no speed limits.
http://www.disclosuree.com/TestNightShot2.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/TestNightShot3.JPG , http://www.disclosuree.com/TestNightShot4.JPG
PRIOR ENCOUNTERS WIT H PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) And yes, I have been voluntarily visited and abducted. I remember seeing people (from other planets) in my house in Seattle, back in the mid 1990’s. They have also visited me in Australia throughout the decade of 2000. Their triangular craft are quite nice inside, with simulated aircraft interiors, and seats that are much more comfortable than ordinary passenger planes. 1484 | P a g e
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Airplane interior – http://homepage.mac.com/lesposen/iblog/B80495344/C475525321/E20070708125944/Media/787.jpg
RECOMMENDED READING AND VIEWING The best place to research UFOs is on the internet. Unfortunately, 95%-99% of everything written about UFOs and “aliens” on the Internet is wrong, or infested with misinformation.
You may wish to watch these videos:
Visit by Annunaki “greys” – I know enough about computer graphics to know that faking this video would require at least 500 man-hours of work (by skilled CG artists at Pixar or ILM), and even more rendering time. I know enough about people (from other planets) to know that the video wasn’t faked, and I can explain why, in private. From what I have been told (which often contains misinformation), the visit occurred because some Annunaki thought the man wanted to contact them. Notice that the Annunaki in front is not looking at the person (from Earth), but is trying to figure out how to turn off the video camera. (PS – Can you understand what question he is asking?)
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU
UFO splashdown in Spain – This video could be faked with computer graphics and a hired helicopter, but I don’t think so. I think the people in the UFOs wanted to get on TV, and arranged for a contactee fisherman to be filming at the time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LzIfdXLzMxg
You should watch these informational videos and DVDs: 1486 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Disclosure project 2001 press conference – http://www.netro.ca/disclosure/npccmenu.htm (viewable off the internet) Four-hour disclosure project DVD – http://www.disclosureproject.org/shop.htm#Disclosure%204HR%20Video/ DVD
You may wish to read this book:
The Day After Roswell – http://www.amazon.com/Day-After-Roswell-PhilipCorso/dp/067101756X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258321394&sr =8-1-spell
Some interesting (but not entirely accurate) internet reading:
Project Serpo – http://www.serpo.org/ The Presidents UFO Website – http://www.presidentialufo.com/
These are the most active forums that I have found:
Above top secret – http://www.abovetopsecret.com/ Open minds forum – http://www.openmindsforum.com/
Here are some television shows to watch, and computer games to play:
2001 – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001:_A_Space_Odyssey_(film) Babylon 5 – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5 Mass Effect – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mass_effect
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November 12, 2011 Below are some photographs (that I found on the web) of some of the races:
Anasazi “grey”
Annunaki “grey”
Anamami “grey”
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According to Sergeant Clifford Stone (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6uC0CKBWaM) many other races exist, some of which I have communicated with. Most of them don’t look like “greys”. Unfortunately, I can’t find their photographs on the internet. Sketches and paintings exist of many of them, though.
“DISCLOSURE” HOW PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) MIGHT DETERMINE IF IT’S TIME FOR “DISCLOSURE”
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November 12, 2011 Until now, people (from other planets) have been following the “no disclosure” approach (mentioned in the executive summary). Every decade or two, people (from other planets) decide whether a switch to “trade only”, “cultural exchange”, or “technology transfer zones” would be advisable. Some people (from other planets) feel that it may soon be time to “disclose”. The reasons for this are:
Over the last few decades, people (of Earth) seem to be more accepting of UFOs, particularly in Darwin and many South/Central American countries. For example: People don’t panic when they read about UFOs in the NT News (http://www.ntnews.com.au/article/2009/08/11/73991_ntnews.html), nor do they seem to notice the UFOs flying overhead.
A mental cyst seems to have formed around the topic UFOs and “aliens”, and the subject is now taboo. It is so taboo that UFOs and real “aliens” are only mentioned in humor (such as South Park, http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153992). Free-to-air television and newspapers rarely mention UFOs, and usually treat the sightings and their witnesses as jokes. People (from other planets) used to watch free-to-air television to assess whether “disclosure” was advisable, but UFOs and real “aliens” are rarely mentioned nowadays.
Most UFO “public” discussion is now limited to the internet. Most people (from other planets) don’t have access to the internet because they don’t have ADSL installed into their UFOs, or the credit-cards needed to pay for wireless 3G modems.
Anti-UFO weaponization and high-tech militaries in the USA and other nations, hampers the movement of UFOs and impedes data collection. Future radar and military technological advances on Earth will only make data collection more difficult, perhaps impossible.
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November 12, 2011 In the near future, people (from other planets) may no longer be able to measure if “disclosure” is advisable. At the same time, advances in Earth-based weaponry will make the act of “disclosure” increasingly dangerous.
SOME “DISCLOSURE” ISSUES THAT EARTH-BASED GOVERNMENTS SHOULD CONSIDER Of course, Earth-based governments need to partake in the “disclosure” discussion. All “disclosure” options require the cooperation of the nations that will partake in trade, cultural exchanges, and/or technology-transition zones. People (from other planets) have experience with “disclosure” on other planets. Some of the previously-encountered difficulties with “disclosure” are:
ISSUES: MULTIPLE ORGANIZATIONS
People (from other planets) aren’t all from the same organization. Earthbased governments involved in “disclosure” must understand this. o
Some people (from other planets) visit Earth to determine if disclosure is advisable. Others have been attempting to set up black-market trade, which they hope will eventually lead to legitimate trade. Many people (from other planets) are just visiting earth for an adventure holiday.
o
People (from other planets) have nations, often many nations per planet.
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November 12, 2011 o Many planets have planet-wide organization like the United Nations. o
Interplanetary organizations of nations also exist.
If an Earth-based government makes an agreement with some people from other planets, how does the Earth-based government know which organization it has made an agreement with? How can either side enforce a contract and arbitrate disputes?
I’m trying not to use the word “colonization”, because it isn’t colonization, but… Imagine that you’re the leader of European country in the 16th – 18th centuries, and you’re in negotiations with other European leaders discussing how to divide up the “terra-nullius” continents North America, Central America, South America, Africa, India, SE Asia, and Australia. The more powerful nations are going to “claim” the better “allocations of land”, the biggest allocations of land, and the land that most-meets their socioeconomic requirements. If you are leader of a small country, you will only be able to claim the bits and pieces that no-one else wants, like some of the island chains in SE Asia. Imagine that you’re the leader of a nation on another planet, and you are dividing up the Earth, not to colonize, but with future trade in mind. The most powerful nation will have selected North America (the USA, with Canada thrown in for free), followed by the USSR (Russia), Europe, and China. Australia (and New Zealand) weren’t very important then, so they were allocated to several smaller nations. Smaller nations may not have the best technology, but they might make better trading partners for Australia. After all, it would be very difficult for Australia to negotiate a free/fair-trade deal with the United States because the US would think it had the upper hand. Negotiating a free/fair-trade deal with a small nation like Thailand would be much easier.
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ISSUES: FIRST CONTACT
How do people (from other planets) determine which countries and cities might be willing to enter into trade, cultural exchange, or host technologytransfer zones? Maybe Australia (and the world) wishes to stay in the “No disclosure” mode. (This has already been discussed in “How people (from other planets) might determine if it’s time for disclosure”.)
People (from other planets) do not find it easy to contact the legitimate governments of Earth nations: o
Where should a UFO land in order to make contact with the government? The obvious location is a military base, but how do the people inside the UFO know that their UFO won’t be disabled or shot down, or that they won’t themselves be imprisoned or shot?
o
How does a UFO inform the military base that they are about to land? Are telepaths present at every military base? Does anyone believe the telepaths when they say, “Trust me, a UFO is about to land”?
o
Once a UFO lands, how do people (from other planets) communicate with the people (from Earth)? Telepathy works only so well. Speech is preferred, but many people (from other planets) have different vocal tracts and auditory systems compared to humans, and cannot ever speak or hear human languages. Listen to the audio in the video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU) to hear an example of an Annunaki trying to speak English. People from other planets may use computer-based translators and speech
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November 12, 2011 synthesizers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speech_synthesis) that are difficult for humans to understand. To complicate matters, people (from other planets) may have only rudimentary knowledge of written English.
People (from other planets) don’t know if they’re meeting with the legitimate government of the nation: o
According to internet UFO-mythology: In the USA, “top secret” military UFO-organizations have become so top-secret that the military’s own legitimate government didn’t know about the UFO organizations. Many people (from Earth and other planets) intensely dislike and mistrust such secrecy.
o
Once an alien organization makes contact with the military, how do they know if the people they are in contact with actually report to the legitimate leaders of the nation? People (from other planets) would not know what the commander of an air force base might look like, and they certainly couldn’t tell if a military ID was valid or faked.
o
People (from other planets) watch television and know what the prime minister (or president) looks like, but people (from other planets) have rarely ever been allowed to meet a prime minister or president due to security concerns. Even if the meeting took place, how would people (from other planets) identify the prime minister or president? To put it bluntly, “All humans look alike to aliens.” Turning the table: If you watch the video of the Annunaki (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU), can you identify each individual by their facial features and voice? Can you
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November 12, 2011 even determine what gender they are?
People (from other planets) do not want to colonize the earth. Assuming that people (from other planets) determine that they are meeting with legitimate representatives of the government, how do people (from other planets) know that the people of the nation really want people (from other planets) to live and work in their country?
ISSUES: PREPARING FOR DISCLOSURE
What will people (of earth) do and think when disclosure happens? Will they panic?
What will happen to the stock market? How long will it take for the prime minister (or president) to shut down the stock market? Should people (from other planets) first appear on a long weekend or holiday?
If people (from other planets) manage to make contact with the Australian government, how do people (form other planets) use the Australian government to contact the legitimate governments of other nations, such as the USA, China, Russia, India, and the EU?
The more people (from earth) that are assigned to work on disclosure, the more likely that the information will leak to the public. Controlled leaks aren’t bad idea though.
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ISSUES: POST-DISCLOSURE
How do UFOs cooperate with air-traffic control?
Will people currently in conflict around the Earth, such as in the Middle East, be more willing to call a truce when they learn that people (from other planets) have landed? Can peaceful nations use disclosure to encourage peace in warring nations?
What are the legal rights of people (from other planets)? Can people (from other planets) live in the country? Can they travel around the country? Can they get a job? Can they purchase property? Can they marry?
What are the religious implications of disclosure?
How will people (from other planets) living on Earth be protected from racist and religious assaults?
If 10,000 people (from other planets) decide to migrate to the Earth, will 10,000 people (from Earth) be willing to migrate to other planets? What about 100,000? Or 1 million? Remember that many people (from other planets) abide by “tit-for-tat”.
Will Australia (and other countries) sign exclusive contracts with specific organizations (and races)?
Is the United Nations functional enough to provide a human representative to an interplanetary “united nations”? What will the Unites States, the UK, France, China, and Russia do with their veto powers?
Which interplanetary “united nations” will the Earth join, if any?
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WHAT COULD HAPPEN IF “DISCLOSURE” ISN’T CAREFULLY MANAGED BY THE AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT Here is the scary part… Hundreds (perhaps a thousand) of UFOs are currently visiting Earth, all piloted by individuals, many from different organizations. It only takes one UFO pilot or organization with a willingness to break the rules, and a small UFO could land on the lawn of parliament.
http://www.disclosuree.com/Parliament.png
Why the Australian parliament? 1.
Some people (from other planets) see Australia as an ideal country for “disclosure”. (As per previous discussions.)
2.
The Australian parliament building would be a safe place to land, perhaps safer than landing unannounced (or even announced) at a military base. There certainly are fewer weapons around.
3.
Within five minutes of landing, photographs of the UFO and “aliens” would start appearing on the internet.
4.
Video would appear on Australian TV within 30 minutes.
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November 12, 2011 5. Within 60 minutes, all the television stations in the world would be broadcasting the live video. 6.
Many people (of Earth) would not believe the television broadcasts. Consequently, other UFO pilots eager for disclosure might join in, and land in parks and other open spaces in every city in Australia.
7.
Soon after that, UFOs might appear in cities around the world, although maybe not in nations with high-tech militaries and anti-UFO weaponry; Noone wants to get shot down.
8.
What would other nations do if UFOs only landed in Australia? Would the other nations cease all sea and air traffic to Australia? Or, would they send special ambassadors to Australia to meet with the “aliens”?
Individual people (from other planets) and organizations are more likely to land on parliament’s lawn and “disclose” if they feel that no-one (from another planet) has been able to contact the legitimate government of Australia. Is any representative from the Australian government in contact with anyone (from another planet)? Is any legitimate representative of any government on Earth in contact with anyone (from another planet)? Which would you prefer, prime minister (and/or president/premier), some early discussions with people (from other planets), or to have someone run into your office and tell you to turn on CNN? Do you want to be caught unprepared like George Bush?
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November 12, 2011 George Bush hears about the first plane crash on September 11, 2001 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bATjvty5p8k
Two minutes after hearing about the landing, a television news-crew might rush into your office, asking you what is going on and how the people of your country should react. You know what the inevitable question will be: “Are we being invaded?” You must not answer, “I don’t know,” because if you do, people will worry, and their worried demands will force you to launch your fighter jets, and that will cause the people (from other planets) in the UFOs to panic, which may lead to the Earth-based fighter-pilots panicking, which may lead to accidental and unintentional conflict. What will you say to the reporters? How many minutes, hours, days, or weeks before you will be able to call a press conference with representatives of “the aliens” to allay people’s fears? Soon after Australian reporters barge into your office, reporters will asking the exact same question of every leader in the world. What will the prime minister of Russia say? What will the premier of China say? What will the president of the United States say? What will the European leadership say? You don’t want any of them to answer “I don’t know” either, because their frightened people might force them to launch fighter jets into your country!
RECOMMENDED ACTION I TEMS
1.
Please contact me at
[email protected] (or by phone) so that I know that someone in the Australian government has read this. If I am not contacted, I may assume that this memo has ended up in the bit bucket, and I’ll to
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November 12, 2011 continue and find other ways to contact the Australian government. 2.
Have someone from the Australian government contact and meet some people (from other planets).
3.
Discuss disclosure with leaders from other nations.
4.
Discuss disclosure with representatives of people (from other planets).
FUTHER READING You may wish to read my longer document: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf
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ST
AFRICA IS TO 1 WORLD COUNTRIES ON EARTH, AS EARTH IS TO ALIEN NATIONS
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 22 January 2010 Draft 2, 30 January 2010 Draft 3, 3 February 2010 Draft 4, 11 February 2010 Draft 5, 21 February 2010 Draft 6, 16 May 2010
I’ll begin with a conjecture: “Africa is to 1st world countries on Earth, as Earth is to alien nations.”
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November 12, 2011 In other words: For the past five hundred years, many first world nations (now including China) have used their advanced technology to take advantage of and subjugate Africa. Similarly, many “alien” nations have used their advanced technology to do the same to earth. Conversely, other first world nations endeavor to liberate Africa from imperialism, and so do alien nations. You can read this article in several ways:
A theory about how real-life “aliens” (such as “greys”, “nords”, “saurians”, etc.) and their technologies are currently interacting with Earth.
A coherent back-story for a series of science fiction novels; think of it as a science fiction “The Silmarillion” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Silmarillion), but much less boring.
Or,
And/or,
The early parts of the document can be seen as stable conjecture based on what real-life “aliens” are doing, while later parts of the article are more science fiction conjecture, appropriate for a series of novels.
Just a reminder: I can’t prove any of this to skeptics. Nor can I prove that the Earth is round. The most compelling “proof” to skeptics is that what I’m writing here produces a coherent “narrative” that explains much UFO “mythology”.
A deeply random thought Intelligence can be defined in a number of different ways. One approach is to rate intelligence based on evolution:
Intelligence level A-1 – An individual of a species can survive in the environment where the species evolved. In the case of Homo sapiens,
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November 12, 2011 this environment is a hunter-gatherer society, or perhaps a small farming hamlet.
Intelligence level A-2 – An individual of a species can survive in the environment in which he/she was raised. In the case of contemporary Homo sapiens, that is a world with houses, cars, paid employment, and other homo sapiens.
Intelligence level A-3 – An individual can survive in an environment that has changed from the one in which the individual was raised. For contemporary Homo sapiens, this might be a world where advanced technologies, such as antigravity vehicles, are suddenly introduced.
Intelligence level A-4 – An individual can survive in a radically different environment from which they were raised, such as one with extradimensional rooms.
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my article: http://www.disclosuree.com/GeopoliticalAlien.pdf The article is an overview of why “aliens” (aka: people from other planets) are here.
A randomly deep thought Intelligence can be measured based on how much an individual’s 1503 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 comprehension of the world models un-sensable knowledge:
Intelligence level B-1 – Any object that is not immediately sensed is assumed to not exist. For example, if a ball is hidden from an infant, the infant will forget about it, and act as if the ball doesn’t exist.
Intelligence level B-2 – Once perceived, an object is assumed to continue to exist even when it is no longer sensed. A child, who sees a ball, will search for the ball even if it is hidden.
Intelligence level B-3 – An individual can hypothesize the existence of an object without having ever perceived it, so long as the object is adequately described by a trusted authority. Most people understand that the object, “credit card debt”, exists and has negative ramifications even though they haven’t sensed credit card debt or its negative ramifications.
Intelligence level B-4 – An individual can accurately hypothesize the existence of an object even without having ever perceived it, or having the object “approved” and adequately described by a trusted authority. The “trusted authority” of the mass-media no longer believes in UFOs or aliens, despite their logical existence. “Intelligence level B-4” is often called, “reading between the lines.”
A REVISED THEORY OF EVOLUTION (PART 1) – INCLUDING “ALIENS” STATISTICALLY, “ALIENS” FIRST VISITED EARTH MILLIONS OF YEARS AGO If you consider the Drake equation (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drake_equation), and assume that interstellar spaceflight is possible, then statistically, intelligent 1504 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 alien life evolved on another planet and invented space travel 100 million (plus) years ago. If you believe that UFOs (alien spacecraft) exist, then “interstellar spaceflight” is a given, so only the Drake equation matters… and that doesn’t really matter, since the probability of two or more interstellar races existing is nearly 100%. What is the probability of “aliens” first arriving on Earth 60 years ago? What is the probability that they arrived 100 years ago? 1000 years ago? 10,000 years ago? Statistically, the probability of “aliens” first arriving 60 years ago is much-much less than the probability of aliens having visited Earth much more than 60 years ago. Given that the “big bang” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_bang) occurred 13 billion years ago, and that “aliens” almost certainly first visited earth more than 60 years ago, it is reasonable to assume that “aliens” first visited earth 100 million – 1 billion years ago.
WHAT HAPPENED WHEN EUROPEANS FIRST VISITED AUSTRALIA? Europeans first arrived in Australia in the 1770’s. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_cook) Soon after, the following cataclysmic changes occurred in Australia:
Australian Aborigines were massacred. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_aborigines)
Sheep, cattle, and rabbits were introduced intentionally. They have severely damaged the ecology of Australia.
Tasmanian tigers were intentionally exterminated and rendered extinct. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tasmanian_tiger)
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November 12, 2011 Cane toads (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cane_toad) and house cats were intentionally introduced, and decimated native Australian fauna. Cane toads are an important example; they have “evolved” and adapted to Australia since their introduction in 1935. In 90 years, they have evolved longer legs. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cane_toad)
WHAT HAPPENED WHEN “ALIENS” FIRST VISITED EARTH 100+ MILLION YEARS AGO? If Europeans intentionally or unintentionally introduced new species to Australia, then “aliens” must have done the same. Maybe dinosaurs were an introduced species. Or fish. Or even jelly fish. Insects and bacteria are obvious candidates. Bacteria might have even been transported by meteors (stone-age UFOs). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panspermia) “Aliens” may have intentionally or unintentionally caused species extinctions by introducing new species, such as cane-toads equivalents, from other planets. “Extinction events” appear regularly in fossil records, and may have been caused by species introductions from other planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extinction_events) Obviously, “aliens” didn’t introduce themselves to Earth, or they’d still be living here, and we would have been flying around in UFOs 100+ million years ago. The “aliens” may have left some cane toads (or equivalent) behind, though.
LIFE EVOLVED ON THOUSANDS OF PLANETS SIM ULTANEOUSLY
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November 12, 2011 If “aliens” first visited Earth 100+ million years ago, they must have visited other planets too… so it is reasonable to assume that life evolved on thousands of planets simultaneously. As ancient aliens travelled around, they brought species with them and left them on the planets they visited. The species eventually adapted and specialized (aka: “evolved”) to their new planet. This hypothesis explains “missing links” that appear throughout Earth’s evolutionary history. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missing_link) A missing link occurs when a newer or more aggressive “version” of a species is brought to Earth from another planet, and the newer species exterminates or out-breeds the older species.
A HOLE IN THIS THEORY: WHERE DID THE 100+ MILLION YEAR-OLD “ALIEN” CIVILIZATION S GO? “Aliens” depositing cane toads (or equivalents) willy-nilly around planets, like Johnny Appleseed (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_appleseed) makes sense, except for one major flaw: What happened to the 100+ million year-old “alien” civilizations? Shouldn’t they be super-advanced by now? Shouldn’t they be everywhere in the galaxy by now? Shouldn’t every planet be covered in super-advanced alien cities, including Earth? I won’t fill this hole quite yet, except to mention the term: “Elder races” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elder_race), such as in the TV series, Babylon 5. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5)
WHAT ANIMALS MIGHT EVOLVE INTO INTELLIGENT LIFE?
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November 12, 2011 What differentiates Homo sapiens (intelligent life that can potentially travel in space) from animals?
Homo sapiens have large brains (assuming that large brains are required for intelligence) – Large brains can be evolutionarily created by enlarging a species’ brain cavity, and enlarging a species’ body to provide energy for an enlarged brain.
Homo sapiens have flexible communication organs (aka: lips, mouth, vocal cords, and hands) – In general, a need to communicate and an enlarged brain will lead to more flexible communication organs in most species.
Homo sapiens have grasping hands that enable tool use – Grasping hands are more difficult to evolve than large brains or flexible communication organs, since limbs and fingers tend to disappear over evolutionary time, not appear.
In other words, given a large number of planets with the right conditions for a given species, just about any species with fingers can evolve into an intelligent spacefaring race.
SPECIES WITH GRASPING HANDS These species could have evolved into sentient, space-faring races because they have grasping hands:
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Thylacinus .jpg
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Schimpa nse_zoo-leipig.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cebus_ albifrons_edit.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Caerul ea3_crop.jpg
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Portrait _Of_A_Baboon.jpg
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Edmont onia_dinosaur.png
SOME NON-GREY “ALIEN” PHOTOS AND SKETCHES Below are some non-grey “alien” photographs and sketches that I found on the Internet, along with images of their possible terrestrial species of origin: (The “grey” races may have forked off from terrestrial species earlier than the dinosaurs.)
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http://www.godlikeproductions.com/sm/ custom/gjdnctfh.jpeg ... might have evolved from ... http://www.thinkaboutit.com/images/001-M.jpg ... might have evolved from ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Probac trosaurus_v3.jpg
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Buitrera ptor-Deinonychus.jpg
November 12, 2011
http://www.aliendoodles.com/randomdo odles.htm ... might have evolved from ...
... might have evolved from ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Buitrer aptor-Deinonychus.jpg http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Archaeo pteryx_lithographica_(Berlin_specimen).j pg
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http://www.aliendoodles.com/randomd oodles.htm
http://www.aliendoodles.com/randomdo odles.htm ... might have evolved from ...
... might have evolved from ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Goanna. jpg http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mantis -greece-alonisos-0a.jpg
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“GREY” ALIEN RACES The “grey” races may have forked off from terrestrial species earlier than the dinosaurs, and may have no equivalent terrestrial species.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdc asjU
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A deeply random thought I volunteer at a zoo. I often watch the zoo animals and think to myself, “I am much more intelligent than the animals are. They are in a zoo but don’t know it. I am acting as their caretaker.” Is someone more intelligent than me my caretaker? Am I in a zoo, but don’t perceive it?
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AFRICA (PART 1) Technologically advanced nations often exploit and destabilize their low-tech neighbors. The continent of Africa is a “poster child” of exploitation and destabilization on Earth.
HISTORICAL EXPLOITATION BY EUROPEANS AND AMERICANS Historically, the continent of Africa has been exploited by Europeans and Americans:
Slave trade –As is well known, millions of Africans were enslaved and transported to the Americas and Europe until the mid 19th century. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/African_slave_trade)
Colonization – Much of Africa was colonized by European nations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_African_territories_and_states_by_da te_of_colonization)
Settler colonialism – Land was requisitioned by European colonial powers for Europeans. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Settler_colonialism)
CONTEMPORARY EXPLOITATION BY FIRST-WORLD COUNTRIES Africa is still being exploited by first-world countries, although less egregiously than in the past:
Resource exploitation – Africa supplies resources for first-world countries, such as agriculture, woods, minerals, and oil. Inevitably, these resources are
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November 12, 2011 extracted and produced more cheaply in Africa than from 1st world countries. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natural_resources_of_Africa)
o
Low wages – Resources are cheaper in Africa due to low wages.
o
Child labor – Child labor still exists in Africa, enabling the production of cheaper goods and resources. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Children_in_cocoa_production)
o
Lax environmental standards – Resources are cheaper due to lax environmental standards.
o
Corruption – Resources are cheaper to acquire from Africa because of corruption – which results in lower state-imposed taxes on resource acquisition (aka: mining and forestry). (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2265387.stm)
Destabilizing governments and society – Many first-world countries and their corporations destabilize Africa in numerous ways.
Weapon sales – First world nations such as China are selling arms to African nations, destabilizing the region. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Involvement_of_the_People%27s_Republ ic_of_China_in_Africa)
Brain drain – First world countries pay higher salaries to professionals, encouraging skilled Africans to move to first world countries. (http://edition.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/06/22/africa.brain.drain/index.h tml)
Bribery – Bribery by first-world corporations destabilizes African government.
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A randomly deep thought A society’s technology can be categorized by dimensionality:
Two dimensional – Members of the society have access to groundbased transportation only: walking, horseback riding, bicycling, and automobiles.
Three dimensional – Balloons, airplanes, and rockets.
Four dimensional (extradimensional) – UFO technologies. See below.
EXTRADIMENSIONAL TECHNOLOGY (PART 1) People like theorizing endlessly about how UFO antigravity technology works. While antigravity is technically interesting, the ramifications of the technology are reasonably easy to predict… flying vehicles, flying chairs, etc. UFO extradimensional technology has more significant ramifications to Homo sapiens.
PHOTOGRAPHIC AND VIDEO EXAMPLES OF EXTRA DIMENSIONAL TECHNOLOGY
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November 12, 2011 Below is a sequence of three photographs of a UFO hover over my house: A minute before
http://www.disclosuree.c om/NightClouds1.JPG
UFO visible
http://www.disclosuree.c om/NightClouds2.JPG
A minute after
http://www.disclosuree.c om/NightClouds3.JPG
Notice that the UFO isn’t visible “a minute before” (perhaps due to the clouds). It is clearly visible in the center shot, to the right and above the over-exposed moon. A minute later, the UFO has moved to the right of the moon, and is semi-transparent. People who see UFOs often report them appearing and disappearing quickly, sometimes in a flash of light:
http://www.lifedynamix.com/community/videos/id_167/title_anti-gravitytop-secret-tr-3b-aurora/ - This is supposedly a top-secret US spy-plane using “antigravity”, but the extradimensional technology is the same as UFOs.
I have seen other YouTube videos, but can’t find them at the moment.
I also took a photograph of an “alien” wearing an “encounter suit” while jokingly sitting in my car at night. The “alien” is mostly transparent, at the center of the photo. Only two eyes and a mouth are visible in an oval head:
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Encounter suits are like dry-suits. They completely cover someone’s body and let them travel extradimensionally, just like a dry-suit lets divers swim in freezing Arctic oceans. Abductees often report “aliens” being invisible or mostly transparent. Some YouTube videos of interest:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gTH_9qt7yY&feature=related – This is an “alien” in an “encounter-suit”, completely visible.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrirElCsK9M – This is an “alien” wearing an encounter suit, in a mostly-transparent state.
AN SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF EXT RADIMENSIONAL PHYSICS I am uncertain about the exact physics of extradimensional technologies, but here is my best educated guess: Since imagining four-dimensional space is tricky, I’ll simply the physics into three dimensions, with our ordinary three dimensions being flattened into two dimensions:
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November 12, 2011 1. Imagine a tabletop or desktop, which is a two-dimensional surface. The two-dimensional tabletop represents our usual three-dimensional space. 2.
Place some coins on the tabletop to represent atoms. Thicker coins represent denser atoms (usually with a higher atomic mass).
3.
You can push the coins around the table. When you push a coin into another coin, the other coins are pushed aside, just like atoms pushing and interacting with one another.
Atoms are three dimensional, but “flat” in a fourth dimension, just like coins are flat in a third dimension.
4.
If you pick up a coin and hold it horizontally a centimeter above the tabletop, then that coin can be moved or “slid” above the other coins. Atoms that are moved “up” or “down” in a fourth dimension do NOT interact with normal three-dimensional atoms… unless both the lifted atoms and normal atoms are very thick (coins).
That explains matter. Light is only slightly different:
1.
Pick up a coin and hold it vertically on edge (instead of horizontally against the tabletop).
The vertical coin represents light, which can be thought of as fourdimensionally perpendicular “matter”. Smaller vertical coins represent lowfrequency “red” light, while larger vertical coins represent high-frequency “blue” light.
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November 12, 2011 2. You’ll have to imagine that vertical coins can be rolled on-edge, half-way embedded in the tabletop. When a vertical coin (light) rolls into a horizontal coin (matter), the vertical coin touches the horizontal coin. The vertical coin can either push the horizontal coin (matter being moved by light), or the vertical coin can roll back (light bouncing off matter).
Now for the interesting bits: 1.
If you lift up a horizontal coin (matter) several centimeters off the table top, you’ll notice that the vertical coins (light) rolling on the tabletop never touch the lifted horizontal coin.
In other words, if matter is pushed far enough out of ordinary threedimensional space, then (a) it will not interact with any other matter, and (b) it is no longer visible.
2.
If the lifted-up horizontal coin (matter) is lowered to only a centimeter above the tabletop, then larger vertical coins (light) will touch and interact with the lifted horizontal coin, but smaller coins will not.
In terms of matter and light, matter that is lifted only slightly in a fourth dimension will still be visible, but won’t interact with normal matter (except for very dense matter). As it is lifted further, red-light (small vertical coins) passes through the object turning it a bluish color. Lifting matter even further, causes the object to only reflect only ultraviolet light. Lift matter far enough and it is completely invisible.
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SOME RAMIFICATIONS OF EXTRADIMENSIONAL T ECHNOLOGIES Extradimensional technologies have important ramifications:
UFOs and people in encounter suits can “dematerialize” (be lifted in a fourth dimension) and turn invisible to all light, including radar.
People in encounter suits that are dematerialized (semi-transparent) can walk through walls, while still being visible. “Alien” abductees often report this phenomenon. (http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-My-Wildest-DreamsAbductee/dp/1879181258/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1264289237 &sr=8-1)
UFOs can fly through any building and can sometimes even fly through the ground (to underground bases).
People, using encounter suits or extradimensional platforms, can “walk” from an invisible UFO parked inside a building, onto the floor of the building, or vice versa. In other words, “aliens” can appear and disappear anywhere on Earth.
A deeply random thought “There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we now know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns. These are things we do not know we don’t know.” – Donald Rumsfeld
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“ALIEN” BRAIN IMPLANTS (PART 1) “Implants” are another important “alien” technology often noted by abductees and “UFO researchers”. 1.
In their simplest forms, implants are identification tags. Humans have already created electronic identification tags used for pets, called “Microchip implants”. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microchip_implant_(animal) ) These small implants, around 5 mm long, contain no power source, and are inserted underneath the skin of someone’s pet using a large needle. Vets used handheld scanners to read the ID with a range of around 10 cm, limited by the amount of power than can be transmitted into the “microchip’s” induction coil.
2.
Human technology has also produced “Tracking collars” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tracking_collar), that are now small enough to be attached to mice. The collars are powered by small batteries, and emit a radio-signal ping at regular intervals. Larger collars include GPS’s to relay an animal’s exact location without triangulation, or to produce satellite signals.
3.
The book, “Casebook: Alien Implants” (http://www.amazon.com/CasebookImplants-Whitley-StriebersAgendas/dp/044023641X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1264141666& sr=8-1) describes some low-tech implants that have been surgically removed from abductees. The implants could provide identification and tracking information. They are usually implanted in limbs, and their power appears to come from a small magnet that generates power when the limb moves through the earth’s magnetic field.
4.
Early abductees sometimes reported implants being placed in their brains, often through their nostrils. Brain implants are not removed from abductees, because of the dangers surgery. Little is known about them by
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November 12, 2011 “UFO researchers”, but they are the most interesting of the implants due to their socio-political ramifications. (See below.)
HOW COULD A BRAIN IMPLANT BE USED? Brain implants are inserted into an abductee’s brain for a reason… they’re close to the brain’s neurons. Why would an “alien” want to place an implant in someone’s brain?
Identification – Brain implants can be used to identify abductees, just like out pet’s microchip implants.
Location – Implants can provide location information.
Paralysis induction – A brain-located implant might be able to induce paralysis in abductees, perhaps by causing a small seizure or preventing the person from thinking. Paralysis would aid in abductions, reducing the chance of the abductee harming the abductors.
Health monitoring – An implant in a person’s brain could be used to monitor their health. Body temperature is one obvious example.
Brainwave monitoring – Located in someone’s brain, the implant could monitor their brain activity, such as our modern EEGs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EEG). Fear and happiness should be easy to detect. The brainwave patterns could be transmitted to a nearby UFO.
Brainwave thought walkie-talkie – A logical extension of brainwave monitoring is to analyze the brainwaves and create a “brainwave walkietalkie”… in order words, “telepathy”. Telepathy technology would let aliens (a) monitor their abductees thoughts, (b) read the thoughts of abductees when abductees are specifically trying to communicate with the “aliens”, and (c) let the “aliens” communicate thoughts to the abductees. The
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November 12, 2011 implant would need to be placed near the person’s speech/language centers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Language_center)
Brainwave acoustic walkie-talkie – Going one step further, an implant located near an abductee’s ears could (a) induce an audible illusion letting the abductee hear speech or sounds, and (b) transmit the audio that the abductee hears to nearby UFOs.
Vocal-tract motor-neuron walkie-talkie – Rather than monitoring the speech centers of a brain, a brain-based implant could monitor the vocaltract muscles and neurons. This would enable the implant to transmit the muscle movements used to generate speech. If transmitted to a nearby UFO, the “aliens” could “listen in” on what the abductee was saying. Abductees would only have to move their lips slightly and quietly whisper to themselves to communicate with the “aliens”. Conversely, the implant might stimulate vocal-tract neurons and let “aliens” speak through the abductee. This technology could enable “channeling” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mediumship).
TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR BRAIN IMPLA NTS – POWER GENERATION A brain implant would obviously require a sophisticated computer, and non-trivial amounts of power. Some possible power sources are: 1.
Pre-charged battery – The power for the implant could be provided by a pre-charged battery, just like our animal radio collars. The battery might not last long, perhaps a few years.
2.
Induction recharge – If contactees are regularly abducted, the brain implant’s battery could be recharged aboard the UFO.
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November 12, 2011 3. Movement through Earth’s electromagnetic fields – Like the alien implants in, “Casebook: Alien Implants”, motion through the Earth’s electromagnetic fields could produce some energy, but this may not be sufficient. 4.
Temperature differential – A person’s body temperature changes throughout the day. Energy can be generated by a temperature differential… which is essentially the reverse of an air conditioner or heat pump. This energy may not be sufficient.
5.
Electrochemical energy – More-sophisticated implants could generate energy from electrochemicals in the brain, namely sugars. Some abductees report that they drink more orange juice than non-abductees, which could be because of the vitamin C in orange juice, or the fructose sugars.
TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR BRAIN IMPLANTS – NEURON MONITORING How could a brain implant monitor the neurons in someone’s brain?
Direct electrical connection – The implant could have an electrical sensor array on its surface, or linked microfiber wiring (perhaps as a mesh). Such sensors would monitor neural impulses and translate them into thought, sound, or speech. Conversely, generating electrical impulses through the surface sensor array or microfiber wiring could stimulate the neurons and induce thoughts, sound, or speech. The microfiber wiring might be extradimensional.
Beam-forming – A recent development in consumer audio is a “soundbar”. Soundbars use an “array” of 20 to 100 small speakers to produce threedimensional sound in a room without requiring surround-sound speakers be placed everywhere in the room. Conversely, “phased array” microphones (including human ears) can pinpoint and focus in on any sound in a room.
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November 12, 2011 Both technologies use a technique called “beam forming”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beamforming). With considerable computer processing power, the same technique could be used to measure electrical discharges from neurons (to other neurons or muscles). Or, electrical charges could be induced into neurons (linked to other neurons or muscles).
TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR BRAIN IMPLA NTS – POWER CONSUMPTION Power consumption would be an enormous problem for implants:
Transmission distance requires energy – Implants could transmit their information using radio waves, or something more advanced and still undetectable by humans. The further away that a radio receiver (aka: “alien” in a UFO) is from the transmitter (an implant), the more energy that is required by the implant. The amount of energy required is proportional to the square of the distance between the transmitter and receiver.
Data requires energy – The more data that is transmitted (or generated through computation), the more power that is required. Implants would minimize the amount of data transmitted.
Computation requires energy – More-complex computation activities like brainwave and speech monitoring would require more power.
Beam-forming requires energy – Implants that use beam-forming require more power than those that connect to neurons via direct electrical connections.
Inducing electrical impulses requires energy – Monitoring a brain (such as listening to speech) requires less energy than inducing neural impulses (such as causing a person to hear speech or move muscles).
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TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR BRAIN IMPLA NTS – TELEPATHYNET As anyone who uses a walkie-talkie knows, walkie-talkies have limited range, from 100 meters to 10,000 meters. People who use walkie-talkies to communicate at 1+ kilometer ranges often use radio repeaters. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radio_repeater) Brain implants transmitting significant amounts of information (anything more than a locator signal) might require the equivalent of radio repeaters. Such radio repeaters could be located in UFOs… which means that telepathically communicating with someone at a distance would require a “telepathy network” of floating UFOs, similar to our cell-phone tower network. If you are telepathically communicating with people at a distance, a UFO may be hovering overhead. Hint: Using telepathy is just like using a walkie-talkie. Anyone can listen in. The signals might be encrypted, but all signals can be analyzed and decrypted if someone is willing to put in the effort.
TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR BRAIN IMPLA NTS – CALIBRATION AND ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE Everyone’s brain is different. Speech centers, hearing, and muscle-controlling neurons are different for every individual. These differences need to be taken into account by brain implants:
Calibration – Brain implants should need a calibration “phase” where they “watch” a person’s neurons and determine which neurons are “excited” by which activities. Conversely, the calibration phase might require implants to experiment with “exciting” neurons and observing what happens. In other
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November 12, 2011 words, a brain implant might not be fully active for several days, weeks, or months after implanting.
Blood-vessel generation – If a neural implant uses electrochemical energy (burning sugars) then it might need to stimulate the growth of blood vessels around the implant. This might take months to years, limiting the effectiveness of the brain implant for that duration. The implant might not fully activate for several months or years.
Pattern recognition – To learn a person’s neural pathways, the calibration phrase might require significant computational power and complex “pattern recognition” algorithms.
Artificial intelligence (aka: sentience) – The pattern recognition necessary for identifying a person’s neural pathways might be so complicated that the implant would require artificial intelligence… which means that brain implants might be sentient, and self-aware.
A randomly deep thought If someone told you to jump off a building, would you? … conversely … If someone told you to NOT jump off a building, would you think about jumping?
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HOW TO SPOT AND CHASE DOWN A UFO SPOTTING A UFO I wrote about spotting UFOs in http://www.disclosuree.com/GeopoliticalAlien.pdf, but here’s a refresher:
BY DAY
Obviously, if you actually see a UFO (circular or triangular), then you have spotted it.
Some UFOs look like airplanes. Look at this photograph of an “airplane” and you’ll notice that it looks like a jet airplane… except that is isn’t painted with any Qantas logos, the color of the aluminum skin is wrong (since it isn’t made out of aluminum – See “Extradimensional physics” for an explanation of the blue color), there are no engines, and there are no windows.
UFOs can hide by pushing themselves out of normal three-dimensional space, as described previously. To spot a UFO by day, look for symmetrical clouds that are often triangular in shape. The clouds are formed because the UFO is invisible but still interacting with three-dimensional air (kind of like a “lenticular cloud” above a mountain), causing clouds to form, and as a side effect of the UFO’s antigravity engines.
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Two triangular UFOs joined by a “breezeway” (see below), only visible due to the clouds they form.
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November 12, 2011 Lenticular cloud forming above a mountain.
A triangular UFO cloud, as seen from space using Google maps.
Sometimes UFOs are visible by their inverse clouds… looking like triangles cut out of clouds.
Some UFOs generate cloud rings.
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(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-XljlBRF6M)
Bored UFO pilots can use their UFOs to create interesting shaped clouds, called “cloud monsters”.
A “kite” cloud created by a bored UFO pilot.
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A “keyhole” cloud created by a bored UFO pilot using a circular UFO. The UFO travels along a straight path for a few minutes, and is actually located in the center of the image at the time of photographing.
BY NIGHT
Triangular UFOs are often visible due their operating lights. The lights are at the vertices of the triangular UFO, and often equally spaced along the edges. Often, one of the corner lights is brighter than the rest. This is a photograph of a triangular UFO taken with a 60-second exposure, which is why the lights are blurred into lines.
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Triangular UFOs often appear as dark-purple triangles against a black sky, or vice versa. Unfortunately, my camera isn’t good enough to capture the dark-purple color.
Triangular UFOs can disguise themselves as stars or clouds, turning their underbellies into giant television screens (kind of). If you move your head from side-to-side quickly, you might notice the stars, clouds, or moon moving irregularly, as if lagging behind your head movement. Using a longexposure digital-camera photograph might help spot such UFOs. Below is a photograph I took of a quarter-moon. The moon looked like a quarter-moon to my eyes, but looks like a full and yellow-red moon to my digital camera. To my eyes, the moon had mach bands surrounding it (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mach_bands), but the camera’s photo doesn’t show them.
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UFO lights don’t have quite the same color as stars. They look more like LED lights. I can’t visually show the color difference with a digital photograph, because digital photos don’t have enough color-frequency resolution.
UFO lights often “scintillate” from white, to red, to cyan. Scintillating stars do not change colors so rapidly.
Circular UFOs often have a single scintillating light (looking like LED lights) in the center, surrounded by a dark black/purple circular area.
UFOs flying by night may use flashing white and red lights to simulate jet airplane lights. They don’t quite get the color correct, and they don’t “move” like jets. They are not always silent, and sometimes sound like a jet airplane, perhaps using transducers to reproduce the sound.
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November 12, 2011 If you are in a quiet rural area, and can hear ultra-low-frequency sounds generated by UFO engines, then you may hear a very low hum when a UFO is nearby (within a few hundred meters). Most people can’t hear such low frequencies. Being in a steel house or car seems to amplify the sound.
UFOs can produce jet airplane sounds, and are not always silent.
If a UFO materializes or dematerializes quickly, it creates a sound similar to a sonic boom.
OTHER SENSES
When a UFO in extradimensional space flies through you, it feels really weird. It feels like your flesh and bones are being “tugged” slightly. If you have any metal implants, they feel like they’re moving.
When inside an UFO that is NOT materialized, the air feels stationary and soon becomes stale.
CHASING A UFO You have to move awfully fast to chase a UFO, at least 4000 kmph.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought At some point in their lives, children realize that Santa Claus is an imaginary person, that magic does not exist, and that their parents are really purchasing and laying out the presents. (And eating the cookies left out for the reindeer… although “aliens” sometimes take advantage of the free cookies. ) Most children are actually told, “There is no Santa Claus” by their friends or older sibling, soon after their friends/siblings discover the truth from their friends. Who would you rather hear, “There is no Santa Claus” from, someone related/friendly to you, or a complete stranger? PS – I hate to tell you, but there is no Santa Claus… but actually, there is.
AFRICA – SOMALIA – BLACKHAWK HELICOPTER DOWN “The U.S., in December 1992, launched a major coalition operation to assist and protect humanitarian activities, Operation Restore Hope, under which the United States would assume the unified command of the new operation, in accordance with Resolution 794 (1992). The U.S. Marine Corps landed with the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit in Mogadishu…” ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Mogadishu_(1993) ) 3 October, 1993 – “Minutes later, a MH-60 Black Hawk helicopter, Super 61 piloted by CW3 Cliff Wolcott, was shot down by a rocket propelled grenade.” ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Mogadishu_(1993) )
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November 12, 2011 “The Battle of Mogadishu led to a shift in American foreign policy. The Clinton administration became increasingly reluctant to use military intervention in Third World conflicts peripherally related to the national interest or national defense of the United States, such as the Rwandan Genocide, the mass murder of an estimated 800,000 to 1,071,000 ethnic Tutsis and moderate Hutus by Hutu militia groups in Rwanda in 1994.” ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Mogadishu_(1993) ) “President Clinton also refused to mobilize U.S. ground troops in fighting the Bosnian Serb Army in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1995 and the Yugoslav Army in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (specifically, the province of Kosovo) in 1999.” ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Mogadishu_(1993) ) “Piracy off the Somali coast has been a threat to international shipping since the beginning of the Somali Civil War in the early 1990s.[1] Since 2005, many international organizations, including the International Maritime Organization and the World Food Program, have expressed concern over the rise in acts of piracy” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somali_pirates)
A randomly deep thought “A recent Gallup poll put the number of Americans who believe in evolution at 39 percent” (http://www.sfgate.com/cgibin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/01/21/MVNE1BKEBA.DTL&type=science)
“Most Australians (55%) preferred a God-guided or biblical account of the development of human beings over Darwinian evolution.” (http://www.odt.co.nz/news/dunedin/89170/most-people-believe-angels-poll)
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A REVISED THEORY OF EVOLUTION (PART 2) – BUILD YOUR OWN “ALIEN” RACE IN 20,000 YEAR INCREMENTS LABOR-INTENSIVE BREEDING For thousands of years, humans have been creating their own animal sub-species through intensive breeding. Dogs, cats, cattle, horses, pigs, etc. are results of intensive breeding. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domestication_of_animals) In the 1950’s, the Soviet Union began an experiment to domesticate foxes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domesticated_silver_fox) Some royal families in Europe are also the result of intensive breeding. Intensive breeding has a number of drawbacks:
Labor intensive (financially expensive) – Breeding a new sub-species requires kennels, food for the animals, and staff to care for the animals. Experienced staff (often farmers) must be hired to monitor and select desirable offspring.
Genetic defects – Due to expenses, breeding populations are kept low. This inevitably leads to genetic defects in the final population. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_breeding#Genetic_defects)
Moral issues – Due to expenses, non-breeding individuals are often euthanized.
Domestication is inevitable – Intensive breeding often begins by extracting individuals from the wild, and proceeds to raise hundreds of generations under domestic conditions, such as no predation, shelter, and easy food availability. Inevitably, the new sub-species “un-learns” how to survive in the wild on its own, and can only ever survive domestically afterwards. For example, most domestic dogs are incapable of surviving and raising offspring in the wild.
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LOW-LABOR, LAND-INTENSIVE BREEDING ( THE 20,000 YEAR APPROACH) A less-labor intensive method exists for breeding a new sub-species, but takes more time:
Begin with a wild population – Seek out a wild population with 1 million (or more) individuals of a species.
Isolate and capture 20,000 individuals –Select the 20,000 most desirable individuals from the 1+ million population. To create an “alien” race, the selection criteria would almost certainly include intelligence. “Telepathic ability”, the ease with which brain implants could be included, might also be a consideration. Critically, the 20,000 individuals should have a preference to mate with individuals of the opposite sex who have higher intelligence (and telepathic ability.) Of course, isolating and capturing 20,000 individuals is labor intensive.
Move the individuals to another continent, one which is devoid of any other members of the species – If the 20,000 most-intelligent individuals are left in the larger 1+ million population, then a new sub-species won’t be formed. Moving 20,000 individuals is very labor intensive.
Provide an intelligence-inducing competitor species that won’t kill off the target sub-species – As a general rule, a species’ intelligence is determined by its environment, which includes the species’ competitor species. If the 20,000 most-intelligent individuals are placed in a continent where intelligence is unnecessary, then their intelligence will eventually deteriorate to whatever intelligence is needed to survive in that environment… which is usually “animal” intelligence.
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November 12, 2011 Wait 20,000 years – Once all of the individuals have been moved to their new continent, fly off in your UFO and leave the species to “mature” for 20,000 years. Return occasionally to spot-fix any problems that might occur. After 20,000 years, the population will have increased to millions, and sufficient genetic diversity will be added through natural genetic mutations. Natural Darwinism will have killed off inferior genes (and their individuals).
Repeat – Repeat this process as often as you like, moving intelligent individuals from continent to continent, gradually creating an intelligent species.
PROBLEMS ENCOUNTERED IN THE 20,000 YEAR APPROACH Unfortunately, the 20,000 year approach has several drawbacks:
Species often successfully kill off their competitor species – Competitor species are usually introduced to the continent along with the sub-species you wish to enhance. As mentioned above, the competitor species is used to encourage the sub-species to maintain its intelligence (and hopefully to encourage more intelligence). Unfortunately, the sub-species often kills off its competitor species, or vice versa. Cost-saving trick #1 – A competitor species can also be thought of as a second sub-species. Two sub-species can be “raised” in tandem, using their mutual opposition to encourage mutual intelligence gains. Cost-saving trick #2 – A sub-species can be its own competitor species, if individuals of the species form tribes that war with one another.
Planets quickly run out of continents – Populations are most easily separated by oceans. If a population is moved to a new continent every 20,000 years, a typical planet will run out of continents in 20,000 to
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November 12, 2011 100,000 years. When you run out of continents on a planet, move the next batch of 20,000 individuals to a new planet.
Planets are expensive – Unfortunately, planets are expensive, or at least hard to come by. When all available continents on all available planets have been filled with members of the sub-species, then land must be “recycled”. The term, “recycled”, is a euphemism for genocide. The least objectionable way to commit genocide is to (a) introduce a more-intelligent competitor species to a continent and let them kill off an older and lessintelligent version of a sub-species, or (b) introduce a newer and moreintelligent version of the sub-species to the continent, and let them kill off their older and less-intelligent ancestors.
Intelligent sub-species figure out how to build boats – Isolating species by oceans works, up until the point where a species becomes intelligent enough that it builds its own sea-faring boats/ships. Within several hundred years of the invention of ocean-crossing ships (such as the “Mayflower” - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mayflower), the sub-species might migrate to all the other continents on the planet… and commit genocide in the process.
Lots of sub-species – By the time a sub-species is capable of inventing UFOs/spaceships, variations of the sub-species (called sub-sub-species) will be spread over half a dozen (or more) planets with several continents on each planet. In general, the sub-sub-species will have similar intelligence levels (within a standard deviation or two). Many of the sub-sub-species will be visually identical even though they live on different planets.
Less-intelligent sub-species – What happens to all the less-intelligent subspecies that were evolved on the way to creating the “final” and mostintelligent sub-species? How are they dealt with? Are they left on their planet, ignorant of their more intelligent descendants?
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November 12, 2011 No-one will ever admit to using the 20,000 year approach – Because creating sub-species in this way inevitably leads to genocide when planets run out, people rarely admit to using the 20,000 year approach.
HOMO SAPIENS SOL – A HYPOTHESIS “Homo sapiens sol” (Homo sapiens originating from Earth, in the solar system Sol) could have been created using the 20,000 year approach. Some evidence points in this direction:
Lucy (Australopithecus) – Skeletal remains of our ancestors have been found in Africa, dating to 3.2 million years ago. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucy_(Australopithecus) ) As many people like to point out, there are “missing links” in the evolutionary chain between Australopithecus and recent hominids, like Homo Neanderthalensis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missing_link)
Neanderthals (Homo neanderthalensis) – Neanderthals became extinct around 30,000 years ago in Europe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neanderthal) This could have happened when 20,000 Caucasian Homo sapiens were moved from another planet and released into Europe. The Caucasian “Homo sapiens planet-x” could have committed genocide against Homo neanderthalensis.
Nordic “aliens” – UFO mythology refers to an alien race called “Nords”, who look almost exactly like “Homo sapiens sol”. This sub-race of Homo sapiens, perhaps called “Homo sapiens Nordic” could be sub-sub-race (see above) from another planet that has invented or been given UFO technology. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordic_aliens)
4,000 year history – Our history only dates back 4,000 years, and is sketchy for all but the last several hundred years. 4,000 years ago, the 20,000 –
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November 12, 2011 200,000 most-intelligent “Homo sapiens sol” on Earth could have been removed from Earth and transported to another planet. Their descendents (“Homo sapiens Nordic”?) might be returning 4,000 years later to see where their ancestors evolved… kind of like tourists visiting primitive African villages. Or, maybe they are returning to help their primitive ancestors.
Missing persons – Hundreds of thousands of people go missing from Earth every year. Many of them die anonymously, or just want to “disappear”. If several thousand of the most intelligent “Homo sapiens sol” were annually abducted and transported by UFO to another incubator planet, would anyone suspect anything other than the usual reasons for someone missing? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missing_children)
Moving persons – How many people do you know that have moved to another city or country, never to be heard from by you again? Maybe they arranged to be abducted and moved off planet. To keep friends from worrying about them, they might have arranged to move to another city/country, but in reality moved to another planet.
A randomly deep thought Men in black – “Homo sapiens MIB” (from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_in_black) Appearance Early reports of Men in Black often described them as men short in stature with swarthy complexions, as if they were deeply tanned. Some reported them as Gypsies. Sunglasses, black suits and black cars have been a feature for the entire period since modern sightings began in 1947, but according to UFO historian Jerome Clark, "All MIB are not necessarily garbed in dark suits." 1547 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Behavior According to the accounts of those reporting encountering them, Men in Black always seem to have detailed information on the persons they contact, as if the individual had been under surveillance for a long period of time. They have been described as seeming confused by the nature of everyday items such as pens, eating utensils or food, as well as using outdated slang, though accounts on the behavior of Men in Black vary widely. Accounts indicate that they often claim to be from an agency collecting information on the unexplained phenomenon their subject has encountered. In some cases they are said to use unidentifiable instruments to wipe the memories of their subjects clean, which is unlikely because of the very fact the subject remembered it. In other accounts, they seem to be trying to suppress information by, for instance, trying to convince their subject the phenomenon never existed. They have been described as behaving in either an exceedingly furtive manner or a completely outgoing one, with wide grins and disconcerting giggles.[4] In the UFO research community the Men in Black often claim to be from the Air Force or the CIA. Those who have encountered them say they produce identification, but when verification is later sought, the people described either don't exist, have been dead for some time, or do exist but have a different rank.
THE ABDUCTION PROCESS ABDUCTING ANIMALS IN A ZOO The best way to understand abductions is to become an abductor yourself; you can do this by volunteering at your local zoo. I volunteer at a zoo; I abduct quolls.
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Northern spotted quoll juveniles in their “quoll box”. Quolls in the zoo have to be abducted (by zookeepers) for the following reason:
Health checks Giving them medicines Implanting microchip IDs Moving them to a new cage To release some of them back into the wild
The quoll “abduction” process uses the following basic procedure:
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November 12, 2011 1. “Quoll boxes” have a circular opening that the quolls normally enter and leave by. The boxes also have a “secret door” (shown above) that is normally closed. 2.
If the quolls aren’t in their box, you have to chase the quolls around their cage until they flee into their box. They naturally run into their box when they’re frightened because they consider it to be safe.
3.
All of the exits from the box are sealed up, and the box is brought down to the ground. During this time, most of the quolls are terrified.
4.
A cloth sack is placed in front of the circular hole, and a thick towel is shoved through the “secret door”, coaxing the quoll out their normal door (circular hole) and into the bag.
5.
If the quoll refuses to go out their normal door, they’re grabbed (often harshly… because they bite) using the towel.
6.
If the quoll manages to escape, they’re chased around their cage with a net… which they really don’t like… until the quoll is caught and put in a bag.
7.
Once in the bag, quolls calm down (because they’re marsupials).
8.
The quoll is carried to the veterinary facility in their bag.
9.
The medical procedure is done in the veterinary facility. The quoll is never removed from its bag in the veterinary facility because they’re too difficult to catch there.
10. If the quoll escapes from the bag in the veterinary facility then they are very difficult to catch. The “catching an escaped quoll” process terrorizes the quoll.
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November 12, 2011 11. After the vet check, the quoll is returned to its cage and released. They immediately run into their quoll box, and call up their hypnotherapist the next morning.
HUMANO-PHILES People decide to become zookeepers because they really like animals. After all, zoo-keeping doesn’t pay well, the animals often bite, and much of the job involves cleaning up feces. “Aliens” can choose where they’ll work too. Consequently, those “aliens” that like working (and interacting) with Homo sapiens become abductors on Earth, just as people that like animals become zookeepers. The most important thing to remember about “aliens” abducting humans is that they’re usually “humano-philes”… which means that they like humans. Some of them really-really like humans. Abducting doesn’t pay well, humans often fight back, and much of the job involves calming down terrorized humans.
REASONS FOR ABDUCTIONS “Aliens” abduct Homo sapiens for the following reasons:
Implanting IDs Testing that implants are working Monitoring health Free medical and dental checks Taking biopsies Sperm and ovum collection Impregnating women
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November 12, 2011 Performing IQ tests To survey the abductees about what’s happening on Earth or whether “disclosure” would be a good idea Seeing if the abductees would like to leave Earth Because they consider some of the abductees as their friends and wish to talk to them Other, less pleasant reasons not mentioned here…
THE ABDUCTION PROCESS The human abduction process is similar to how zookeepers abduct animals in a zoo: 1.
Hidden observation to make sure the abductee is asleep. Implants and invisible cameras are used.
2.
Opening a “gateway” to the abudctee’s home. (See below.)
3.
Travelling from the UFO to the abuctee’s home. (See below.)
4.
Making sure the abductee is “asleep” and immobile. Various techniques are used, including implants, telepathic immobilization (basically taking control of the abductee’s muscles), and drugs administered by invisible flying robots with needles.
5.
Moving the abductee to the ship. “Aliens” do NOT like obese abductees.
6.
Performing various actions, such as medical tests.
7.
Someone always needs to make sure the abductee is either asleep, in a trance, or is very calm. Drugs and de-neuralizers can be used.
8.
“Forget-me” drugs are often administered so the abductee doesn’t remember the event.
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November 12, 2011 9.
Returning the abductee to their home and making sure they’re safe.
10. Leaving and closing the “gateway”. “Aliens” often leave hints of abduction behind; since as humano-philes the abductors want to make sure the abductees consciously know they have been abducted.
Often, abductees are never removed from their homes. The medical tests are performed in their bedroom, living room, or kitchen, since these locations are often safer and more comfortable for the abductee.
GETTING PEOPLE ONTO AND OFF A UFO – GATEWAYS People can enter and leave UFOs through various methods:
The UFO can materialize (enter ordinary three-dimensional space) and land, open a door, and people can walk in/out.
The UFO can materialize, hovering above a back yard, and people can enter/leave using a zip-line and harness.
The UFO can partially materialize and land, exposing part of the UFO to ordinary three-dimensional space. People can walk in/out. (I have done this.)
Many UFOs have specialized “elevators”. They are lowered “dematerialized” into someone’s house, using a telescoping arm or cable. They materialize into ordinary three-dimensional space. The elevator’s doors are opened. People can walk in/out of the elevator. The doors close, the elevator dematerializes, and is lifted back into the UFO. (I have done this.)
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November 12, 2011 Some UFOs have “eggs”, which are ellipsoidal shells large enough for someone to sit in. They are basically one or two-person “elevators”. A friendly abductee can hop into an egg and be brought into the UFO. (I have done this.)
Some “elevators” are like Willy Wonka’s Glass Elevator (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_and_the_Great_Glass_Elevator). They are essentially mini UFOs that fly between the UFO and people’s houses. They aren’t physically attached to the main UFO.
Some UFOs have a long “walkway” (or “breezeway”) that rotates out of the side of the (usually triangular) UFO. UFO walkways are like the walkways from an airport-terminal gate to parked jet airplanes, except they’re attached to the vehicle. The walkway is extradimensionally angled so the UFO can remain dematerialized while the end of the walkway is materialized in three-dimensional space. As people walk up and down the walkway (at a very slow walk), they leave/enter normal three-dimensional space. (I have used these.) Walkways can be used to connect two UFOs, letting people walk between the UFOs.
“Aliens” can put on encounter suits. The UFO can fly into someone’s house, dematerialized. The UFO floor is leveled with the house floor. The “aliens” then partially dematerialize into the person’s home, physically grab the abductee, and “pull” them out of ordinary three-dimensional space into the UFO. (I have done this, and it is distinctly unpleasant.)
Abductees can be pulled out of ordinary three-dimensional space with a special robotic arm.
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ADVICE TO ABDUCTEES: DON’T PANIC! After reading this section, you should have a better understanding of the abduction process. To simplify things:
Don’t panic! – The more you panic, the more “force” that the “aliens” will be required to use in order to abduct you. The more force used, the more likely you’ll panic. “Aliens” usually avoid feminine women because they tend to panic.
Say calm, don’t struggle, and don’t fight – The more you fight, the more “force” that the “aliens” have to use. “Aliens” usually avoid very masculine men because they tend to fight and are very dangerous.
If you don’t want to be abducted, make sure to tell the “aliens”. Being humano-philes, most of the “aliens” do NOT want to abduct people that don’t want to be abducted. Having said that, they may have to abduct people against their will for the abductee’s health reasons, as described as “Beyond my Wildest Dreams”. (http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-MyWildest-DreamsAbductee/dp/1879181258/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1264289237 &sr=8-1) Unfortunately, the “aliens” may have to abduct unwilling abductees as part of their job description, and panicking or fighting back just makes matters worse for both sides. Struggling and fighting may cause the aliens to avoid you in the future though. Whether you stay calm or struggle/fight is your decision.
Don’t leave your digital camera or mobile phone on board the UFO. They are difficult to return, though much appreciated as thank-you gifts. Hats and sunglasses are less useful since they don’t usually fit the aliens’ heads.
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THE POST-ABDUCTION PROCESS – GETTING DRUNK In one abduction, I wandered down from the top “abduction” floor of a triangular UFO to the bottom “staff” floor. I saw what I thought was a receptionist’s desk with a receptionist behind the desk. The receptionist’s desk was actually a wet-bar. Apparently, abducting is a stressful process for the “aliens”, and they sometimes have the urge to get plastered after a really bad abduction night. They may also take “forget-me” drugs to forget bad abduction experiences.
A deeply random thought I printed up an advertising T-shirt for my game, with the following image printed on the front of the T-shirt. On cold nights, I sometimes wear the T-shirt to bed.
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Apparently, wearing an image of a Tasmanian tiger sparked the interest of some of my abductors.
A deeply random thought Aliens are people, from other planets. From now on, I will use the term, “people (from other planets)” in this document instead of “aliens”.
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SURVIVOR EARTH! INVISIBLE CAMERAS Have you ever wondered how “remote viewing” works? “Invisible cameras” can be created using a combination of extradimensional and brain-implant technologies, as described above: 1.
Begin with a triangle-shaped UFO, approximately 32 meters long. It has extradimensional engines, and can dematerialize, becoming invisible and able to fly through any building.
2.
Remove the pilots and living quarters, producing an “unmanned aerial vehicle” (UAV) version (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_aerial_vehicle) of the triangular UFO.
3.
Shrink the UAV down to the size of a remote-controlled hobbyist airplane (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remote_controlled_airplane), about 23 cm to an edge.
4.
Add a digital camera.
5.
A built-in microphone is optional.
6.
Let people control the “unmanned aerial vehicle” (UAV) through their implants.
7.
For purposes of an invisible camera, the shape of the UAV might be a baseball-sized sphere.
To use an invisible camera: 1558 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 1. Users only have to think about a location or person (with an implant). 2.
The closest invisible camera is automatically found.
3.
A digital photograph is taken.
4.
The image is beamed back to the “remove viewer’s” implant.
5.
The user “sees” the image through their “third eye”. For those of you who think you’re “psychic”, be aware that invisible cameras have a “field of view” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Field_of_view) of around 72 degrees (1/5th of 360 degrees).
6.
“Low-tech” invisible cameras produce monochromatic red or violet images. Higher-tech cameras are full-color, or even full motion.
SOME POSSIBLE USES Invisible cameras have a number of uses:
To observe abductees and make sure they’re asleep before they’re abducted. (As mentioned in “The abduction process”, above.)
To scientifically observe humans in their day-to-day lives, similar to “dungcams”, as used by wildlife film teams (http://www.jdp.co.uk/programmes/Trek-Spy-on-theWildebeest&f=dungcam.flv&n=Dungcam) as used in David Attenborough’s recent wildlife documentaries.
To spy on important people and government officials; it is nearly impossible to keep secrets due to these cameras, especially if the people/officials don’t know that invisible cameras exist.
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November 12, 2011 “Reality TV shows” and ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor_(TV_series) ) could use the cameras, and be viewed by people (from other planets) about Earth and Homo sapiens sol. (See South Park’s “Alien reality TV show” episodes: http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153992/?tag=Reality+TV+show and http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153993).
HOW TO DETECT AN INVISIBLE CAMERA
Try to “remote view” yourself. If you can get an image, then a remote camera is watching you.
At night, some invisible cameras will emit a dim red, violet, or white flash when they photograph an image.
Larger or older invisible cameras (and especially extradimensional UAVs) can sometimes be heard. They sound like mosquitoes, quiet fans, or 50 – 60 hertz hums when you get close to them. They’re so quiet that you usually only hear them in one ear.
Walking through an invisible camera (or having one fly through you) feels really weird… just like having a very-small dematerialized UFO fly through you. See “Spotting a UFO”, above.
A randomly deep thought Coincidentally, J. K. Rowling creating a character named “Rita Skeeter” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rita_Skeeter#Rita_Skeeter) who spied on Harry Potter. Could a mosquito-sounding invisible camera have been spying on J. K. Rowling for an off-planet documentary of reality TV show? 1560 | P a g e
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“ALIEN” BRAIN IMPLANTS (PART 2) PAINLESS BRAIN IMPLANTS Traditional UFO mythology describes brain implants being inserted into people’s brains via their nose. (http://www.crystalinks.com/implants.html, http://truthseekersmidlands.tripod.com/id24.html) Invasive surgery isn’t necessary with extradimensional technology: 1.
A dematerialized UFO flies into someone’s home at night, while they’re sleeping. (See “Extradimensional technology (Part 1)”.)
2.
A skilled “surgeon” wears special goggles then let them see into ordinary three-dimensional space.
3.
Using an extradimensional tool, the surgeon places the implant “on top of” the person’s brain. “On top” is used in an extradimensional sense, not a three-dimensional sense; extradimensionally, someone’s brain can easily be viewed and accessed “through” their skull.
4.
The implant gradually “falls” (or “floats) into normal three-dimensional space (taking around ten minutes), displacing some of the person’s neurons.
5.
The person wakes up in the morning with their brain feeling a bit funny. If you wear contact lenses, a large implant feels “like a contact lens” over your brain.
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November 12, 2011 6. In a few days to a few weeks, after analyzing the person’s neural pathways, the person’s implant activates.
IMPLANT BOTS What if this process were automated? 1.
Imagine an “unmanned aerial vehicle” version (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_aerial_vehicle) of the triangular UFO, 46 cm on a side. (Like the “Invisible cameras”, mentioned above.)
2.
At the beginning of the night, the UAV is loaded up with implants.
3.
The UAV is operated via remote control.
4.
The UAV flies around a city dematerialized, locates people to implant, and uses an extradimensional robotic arm to insert implants in their brains.
5.
People that were implanted wake up with their brain feeling a bit funny, but nothing too noticeable.
6.
In a few days to a few weeks, after analyzing people’s neural pathways, their implants activate.
RAMIFICATIONS Using extradimensional surgery to place implants has many ramifications:
Abductees are spared the pain and trauma of being implanted surgically.
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People don’t know that they’ve been implanted.
People can be implanted before they’re abducted, making the first abduction safer.
Dozens of people can be implanted in a single night by a single implant bot.
Animals (both pets and wild animals) can be cheaply implanted. Implanted animals can be monitored for scientific purposes, or used as spy pets. Implants can also encourage evolutionary behavior in the the “20,000 year evolution plan”.
More to come…
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CULTURE – ROOS (PART 1) The culture of an “alien” race is affected by what species the race evolved from. Most humans are used to interacting with only humans, and don’t realize how “human”-centric their culture is. I volunteer at a zoo, and have experience with wallaroos (similar to kangaroos), so I’ll extrapolate a culture based on the personality of wild wallaroos.
PERSONALITY OF WILD WALLAROOS VS. WILD CHIMPANZEES Wild wallaroos (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallaroo) live in “mobs” (aka: groups) of 10 – 20 individuals. The mob consists of a dominant male, females, sub-adults, and joeys still in the pouch. The dominant male chases all other males away from the mob. Less-dominant males wander around in small groups, until they’re old enough to challenge the dominant male. On the other hand, chimpanzees (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Chimpanzee) live in groups of 20 – 150 individuals. The group is a mixture of males, females, sub-adults, and infants. A small percentage of the males are dominant and allowed to breed with the females. Lessdominant males are prevented from breeding by the dominant males, and sometimes brutally beaten up. The wallaroo dominant male also acts as a protector for the females and young, keeping an eye out and warning of approaching danger. Female wallaroos breed with the dominant male, raise the young, with care for individual young left only to their mother. If a predator approaches, all the wallaroos flee. Male chimpanzees hunt in packs, and are territorial, killing unwelcome chimpanzees (usually male) who enter their territory. Female chimpanzees breed with the dominant males (or friendly non-dominant males in secret), raise the 1564 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 young, and share some of the responsibility for raising young. If a predator approaches, chimpanzees climb into the trees.
DUNBAR’S NUMBER Dunbar’s number (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunbar_number) describes what sized groups primates prefer to live in. If a group becomes larger than the Dunbar number, the group often splits into two. Homo sapiens have a Dunbar number of around 150... which means that “primitive” human cultures would have around 150 members in them. Thus, the typical size for a tribe of hunter-gatherer humans or prehistoric farming hamlet would be 150 people. Chimpanzees have a Dunbar number between 20 and 150, averaging 75. Wild wallaroos have a Dunbar number of around 10 - 20. The Dunbar number of a species (or race) affects a number of social characteristics:
The higher the Dunbar number, the larger the communities.
The higher the Dunbar number, the better-able an individual is to predict how other individuals in the group will behave, and react towards other individuals. In a human tribe of 150 members, each member has social relationships with 149 other members, and might need to remember (or predict) the social relationships that occur between 149 x 148 other individuals. (Example: Mary knows that Fred like Jane, but Fred dislikes Laura.)
Human woman have a higher Dunbar number than human men, because prehistoric human men would go hunting in small groups. Conversely, prehistoric human woman would raise children and gather foods together, requiring them to keep track of more relationships, especially relationships
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November 12, 2011 between women, and relationships between men and women. Relationships between men and men would be less important.
Species that live in larger groups (higher Dunbar number) might be more likely to care for sick and injured individuals than species with low Dunbar numbers, particular if the species is non-migratory.
High Dunbar-number species might be more likely to have “wars” with one another, as opposed to smaller-scale “battles” and “fights”.
HUNTING, GATHERING, PROTECTING, CHILD RAISING Chimpanzee males are hunters, gatherers, and protectors (from other male chimpanzees). Female chimpanzees are gatherers and child raisers. Wild wallaroo males are gatherers and protectors. Wild female wallaroos are gatherers and child raisers. Homo sapiens are descended from chimpanzees, with chimpanzee behaviour being particularly evident in the behaviour of teenagers. Homo sapiens males in prehistoric cultures are hunters, protectors (from other Homo sapiens males), and perform limited child raising. Homo sapiens females in prehistoric cultures are gatherers and child raisers. In a prehistoric society, a race evolved from wallaroos might have males that are gatherers and protectors (from predators). Non-dominant males might wander around and gather for a living, until they become strong enough to challenge a dominant male. Females might be gatherers and child raisers. In a modern society of Homo sapiens:
Men... o Work (instead of hunt). o Play/watch sports (instead of hunt).
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November 12, 2011 o Go to war (protect). o Help in raise children, although not as much as most women.
Women... o Work (instead of gather). o Go shopping (instead of gather). o Raise children.
A modern society of a race descended from wallaroos might divide the labour:
Dominant men... o Work (instead of gathering) o Go shopping (instead of gathering) o Defend their wives (financially and perhaps militarily)
Non-dominant men... o Work (instead of gathering), often with small groups of other nondominant men. o Go shopping (instead of gathering) o Are itinerant (in small groups of non-dominant men) until they have enough money to support several women
Women... o Work (instead of gathering) o Go shopping (instead of gathering) o Raise children
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CHILDREN: WORK TO RAISE TO ADULTHOOD Assume that raising a child of any race (given a certain mean intelligence) is the same amount of work. Less-intelligent species don’t need to spend as much effort raising their young. How easy it is for a woman of a race to “have an abortion” and the “amount of communal care” affects the relationship between men and women of a race:
Abortions – To ensure optimum genes, females are always particular about what males they breed with. Females do NOT like to be raped. Hypothesis: The more (food) energy it takes to raise a child from zygote to birth, the more that females object to rape. A female chimpanzee gives birth after eight months, requiring eight months of additional food, risk to life due to an oversized belly, and risk of death due to childbirth. A female wild wallaroo gives birth after one month, with little additional food, and can easily “abort” her child by not letting it enter her pouch. A female chimpanzee raped by a male chimpanzee (aka: a male chimpanzee with undesirable genes) is much worse off physically (and perhaps emotionally) than a female wild wallaroo.
Communal care – Hypothesis: The more communal care a species/race provides, the less particular a female is about her mate. The issue is similar to abortion: If a female is impregnated with bad genes, and she alone must spend years raising the child with bad genes, she will be more particular about the male she breeds with. Conversely, if the female leaves her offspring in a communal crèche, she isn’t as “picky” about the male she breeds with. (The community might be picky though, but not the individual female.)
Monogamy – Hypothesis: If the relationship between males and females is monogamous, and the males help raise the children, then selecting a quality male becomes more-important for females.
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In a modern Homo sapiens culture, women are very careful when selecting their husband, and view them as integral to their lives. Men are likewise careful about selecting their wife. In a modern wallaroo culture, women might view men as “sperm” banks that come with some financial assistance. As a group, a dominant-male’s wives may “vote” him out and vote-in a new dominant male. Dominant men might be more careful about selecting their wives, ensuring their wives don’t spend too much money or fail to get along with the mens’ other wives.
SOCIETAL VIOLENCE Societal violence issues vary depending on the species that the race evolved from. In a modern Homo sapiens society:
Men... o Men fear groups of other men (called gangs). o A man that is cornered by other men will fight, often to the death. Why? A cornered male cannot run away without being grabbed and pulled to the ground. Groups of chimpanzees are known to attack lone less-dominant chimpanzees, with intent to torture or kill. o Men instigate and go to war.
Women... o Women are afraid of strange single men, due to rape. o A woman cornered by men will fight with the expectation of being raped. o Women (with a higher Dunbar number) use social techniques to control, influence, or chastise women they dislike.
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In a modern wallaroo-evolved society:
Men... o Men often get in fights with other individual men. o A man that is cornered will fight, but not to the death. They are more likely to run than Homo sapiens men because (a) wallarooevolved men do not have grasping hands, and (b) groups of wild wallaroos are not known to attack single wallaroos.
Women... o Women are wary of strange single men, due to rape. o A woman cornered by a man will expect to be raped. o Women (with a lower Dunbar number than Homo sapiens) tend to avoid women that they dislike, instead of using social influence to attack them.
A randomly deep thought If multiple-continent planets like Earth are rare (which they might be), then Earth might be a valuable planet because of the easily-accessible heavy metals on its surface. Mountain ranges, also a feature of a multiple-continent planet, produce rich soils, resulting in fertile plains that are valuable as agricultural land.
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PLANETS – ONE AND TWO-CONTINENT PLANETS (PART 1) EGG-SHAPED PLANETS “Living” planets are spheres of molten rock with thin crusts of solidified rock. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earth%27s_core) Most planets, especially if they have a moon, are NOT perfectly circular; they are egg-shaped.
ONE OR TWO FLAT CONT INENTS If water is added to a planet’s surface, it should form a perfect sphere around the planet’s geography, due to gravity. An egg-shaped planet with water added with either have one or two continents, depending on how much water is present and how egg-shaped the planet is. Being egg-shaped, a two-continent planet usually has each continent on opposite ends of the planet. Being egg-shaped, Earth originally had only one continent, Pangaea. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pangea) If a planet only has one or two continents, then mountain formation is unlikely. Mountain ranges form when continents collide. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mountain_formation) Volcanoes are also formed by continental collisions. Therefore, one or two-continent planets have continents similar to Australia:
The continents are mostly flat. The soils are nutrient poor. The continents are dry in the interior. The continents are wet near the exterior (ocean).
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TWO RACES PER CONTIN ENT If an elder race decides to “build their own race” on a one or two-continent planet they might logically decide to evolve two races at once. One race would be selected to survive well in the (hot/cold and dry) inner deserts of the planet, such as a dinosaur or goanna-based race. The other race would survive well in the (moderate and wet) exterior of the planet, such as a wallaroo or a monkey-evolved race. Under this arrangement, neither race could commit genocide against the other. The dry-land species couldn’t survive in the wet regions, and the wet-land species couldn’t survive in the dry interior. Beneficially, conflicts that promote higher intelligence might occur at the boundaries of the dry and wet regions of the continents. Trade between the dry and wet regions of the continent would be necessary, since each race would have access different resources. Wet regions could provide more food. Dry regions provide easier mining. Small-scale trade of goods would commence soon after the races were introduced. Ideally, when both races became intelligent enough, they would form nations that would sign peace treaties, and cease inter-racial warfare. Both races would be forced to learn to live with one-another to produce a prosperous society.
EARTH Conversely, Earth is effectively populated by one race, Homo sapiens, which can exist anywhere on the planet. Pasty-white people from Ireland can live in equatorial Africa, but with a slightly shorter lifespan due to skin cancer. Africans can live in Ireland, but with vitamin-D deficiency. 1572 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Therefore, the Homo sapiens races DON’T need to learn to live with one another, and a dominant race (Europeans) has no financial disincentive to NOT commit genocide, such as in the Americas or Australia. Conversely, if Europeans could not survive in the Americas or Americas, Europeans would have stayed in Europe and entered into trade negotiations with Native Americans and Aboriginal Australians.
HIGH-TECH AND LOW-TECH CONTINENTS Two-continent planets have another advantage for “building your own race”:
Continents are at opposite ends of the planet and difficult to sail between. That means that the evolving races will take longer to figure out that another continent exists. This reduces the chance of cross-continental genocide.
One continent can be designated as the “stupid continent” while the other is designated as the “smart continent”. The elder race maintaining the racebuilding project can abduct intelligent people from the “stupid” continent and move them to the “smart” continent. Conversely, stupid people can be abducted from the smart continent and moved to the stupid continent.
The end result is that the “smart” continent becomes the “high tech” continent, with industrialization. The “stupid” continent becomes a lowtech agricultural and mining continent, perhaps 100 – 200 years of technology behind the high-tech continent.
If people on the low-tech continent hear about the high-tech continent, they will become jealous of their high-tech neighbours on the opposite side of the planet. This problem can be solved by having visitors from the hightech continent dress in low-tech garb and pretend to be low-tech when they visit the low-tech continent.
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November 12, 2011 When people from the low-tech continent learn about their high-tech neighbours, the low-tech population can be controlled by preventing them from sailing or flying to the high-tech continent. For example: Africans are prevented from flying or sailing to Europe without a visa. Humans (on Earth) find this much more difficult, because the low-tech continents are geographically attached or only separated by small water barriers.
HIGH-TECH CENTRES IN THE MIDDLE OF FLAT CONTINENTS One and two-continent planets usually have flat continents, similar to Australia. The interior of a flat continent is desert, and sparsely inhabited. A race from off-planet can build a high-tech city in the middle (aka: desert) of a flat continent, and (realistically) none of the continent’s inhabitants will ever notice, because most of them will live near the wetter and more-moderate exteriors. Therefore, a two-continent planet could have a low-tech and high-tech continent. Hidden someplace in the centres of each continent might be an off-planet veryhigh-tech city that could be used to export industrial goods from the high-tech planet, and agricultural goods from the low-tech planet.
EARTH A high-tech city run by a race of non-“Homo sapiens sol” could theoretically exist on modern Earth, although it would have to be located on an isolated island. The island would be noticed because all of the goods/resources shipped to the island would attract the interest of the media or people on the Internet.
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MINERAL RESOURCES Logically, heavier metals will sink to the core of a planet, especially a planet without any tectonic movement or volcanism (such as a one or two continent planet). This means that many heavy metals, such as uranium, should be rare on one or two continent planets, since they will have sunk far below the surface.
EARTH Would a planet with fewer heavy metals on its surface be worth less money than a planet, such as Earth, with many heavy metals on its surface? Would one/twocontinent planets be more appropriate as incubators for evolving races due to their “low” price tag? Would multiple-continent planets such as Earth be more appropriate as garden planets?
A deeply random thought How many “Homo sapiens Nordic/MIB” people live on low-tech Earth? They may prefer a low-tech society. Or, could they behave like wealthy white colonist farmers in Africa, controlling the economy, but without being visually identifiable as a different race? Their extradimensionally-hidden UFOs could be parked in their back yards.
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ADVENTURE HOLIDAYS ON LOW-TECH PLANETS People from first-world countries enjoy going on adventure holidays in Africa, South America, and Australia. (http://contiki.com.au/) People (from other planets) are no different.
TRAVEL RESTRICTIONS Imagine that you could catch a UFO from Earth and take an adventure tour. Some restrictions would obviously be in place:
VISITING HIGHER-TECH PLANETS You might not be able to holiday in on a technologically more-advanced planet. Why? You might return to your low-tech planet with:
High-tech “souvenirs” (laser guns, robots, etc.) that could make you very rich, but destabilize your planet.
Ideas (such as “a grand-unified theory of physics” or “How to build a better mouse trap”) could be equally as dangerous.
If you were able to holiday in a more-advanced planet, your tours would be carefully guided, and most-likely limited to low-tech regions of that planet.
VISITING LOWER-TECH PLANETS Conversely, if you visited a low-tech planet:
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November 12, 2011 Upon boarding the UFO, your luggage would be searched to ensure that you wouldn’t leave any high-tech items (computers, digital cameras, etc.) behind on the low-tech world.
Your tour would be guided to ensure that you didn’t let slip any high-tech ideas, such as telling someone in a pre-1940’s technology planet how to make a nuclear bomb, or even that they could be made.
VISITING NON-DISCLOSED PLANETS PHYSICALLY The trickiest tours are those where you holiday on a planet where the planet’s residents don’t believe in “aliens” (aka: you).
If you don’t look like the planet’s residents (aka: you look like a Homo sapiens and the residents look like low-tech “greys”) then you will only be able to land in remote locations (waterfalls, scenic vistas, etc.) that are unpopulated. Or, you may only be able to land at night, when the planet’s residents are asleep. (By the way, Australia has many such locations.)
On some planets, you might look similar to the planet’s residents because (a) you’re an elder race (like “Homo sapiens Nordic” are an elder race to “Homo sapiens sol”), or (b) you are evolved from a parallel evolution path and just happen to look the same from a distance. If that’s the case, then other restrictions might apply:
You will certainly have to dress in an appropriate costume – No wearing jeans in 17th century England.
You may be forced to wear makeup, paint your skin, die/shave your hair, or wear a wig.
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November 12, 2011 You might have to pretend to be a foreigner or a mute so that your inability to speak the native language isn’t noticed.
You may be prevented from getting near the native residents, so they cannot see through your disguise.
OBSERVING “NATURAL” BEHAVIOUR If you cannot land on a not-yet-disclosed planet, you might be able to observe the planet from afar:
View the planet below from the comfort of your UFO... this is similar to watching the scenery drive past as you take a coach tour of Scotland.
Culture and nature lectures might be given on-board the UFO as you hover over their cities or nature reserves.
If the natives have television or radio, you could spend hours watching the television shows with the help of an on-board translator. Similarly, you could read books acquired from the planet, located in the UFO’s library.
Spend an evening “talking” with telepathic locals who either think you’re a telepathic human, an “alien”, or an “angel”.
You can direct invisible cameras (see above), and take a virtual “walking” tour in the streets and shops of the planet. Your camera might be (legally) allowed into private homes, to see how the natives live.
A resident of the planet hired by the tour company could purchase souvenirs that you select via your invisible camera, and leave them in an out-of-the-way place for your UFO to pick them up later. The resident would, of course, never be able to admit they were purchasing goods for “aliens” visiting their planet. 1578 | P a g e
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HIGHER-TECH TOURING OPTIONS If you came from a society with high-enough technology and were unable to land because of your physical appearance, some other options might be available to you:
You could don an encounter suit (like a dry suit), turn invisible, and walk around the planet unobserved, even in cities. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrirElCsK9M) Unfortunately, encounter suits aren’t very comfortable to wear.
You might be able to hack into the planet’s Internet (if it has one) and talk to the local residents via a virtual world, such as Second Life. (http://secondlife.com)
A resident of the planet (mentioned above) might have a brain implant. You could ask/tell the resident where to go on the planet, and follow them around with an invisible camera.
With some advances in brain implants, your muscles and nerves could be remotely linked to the muscles and nerves of a native, controlling them like an avatar. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_(computing) ) You would be able to walk them through the streets and feel what they feel. You might even be able to see through their eyes. For an extra fee, you could partake in cybersex.
Some animals might be capable of supporting brain implants, in which case you could spend a day being/controlling a gorilla in the mountains of Africa.
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POSSIBLE HOLIDAY DESTINATIONS ON EARTH If you were from off planet, and visiting Earth, some possible holiday destinations are:
Take nature walks and visit remote waterfalls in outback Australia. Australia has such a small population that many locations are never visited by Homo sapiens. The same can be said for Canada and parts of north-west America, where Yeti/Sasquatch prefer to holiday.
Fly over virtually any major city on Earth, and take “walking” tours using your invisible camera. With UFOs flying at 4,000 kmph, every city is only hours away.
If you are a “Homo sapiens Nordic” or “Homo sapiens MIB”, you can wander anywhere on the planet where mixed “Homo sapiens sol” races are common, such as New York City and Los Angeles. Night tours of cities are preferred because any racial differences are less noticeable.
Put on your encounter suit and wander around sparely populated cities at night (when you’re less visible), or into the homes of “Homo sapiens sol”.
Using brain implants and a “Homo sapiens sol” native who is working for your tour company, you can explore Earth’s cities and have them purchase souvenirs.
Although illegal, you can partake in an abduction, and talk with residents directly. Perhaps even partake in sex with the abductee. For an additional fee, you might be able to abduct a particular handsome/beautiful native. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_tourism)
And don’t forget about the optional package of being a mountain gorilla for a day.
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LIVING ON LOW-TECH PLANETS Just as some first-world Europeans and Americans prefer to live in “primitive” Africa, some “Homo sapiens Nordic” and “Homo sapiens MIB” might prefer living on Earth. To do this, you need:
Enough makeup to ensure that you’re not visually noticed.
Some fake ID.
A way to launder gold or silver into dollars and deposit them in the bank.
The advantages are similar to why Americans move to Mexico to retire:
A relaxed lifestyle without high-tech hassles like spy-bots (see below).
A friendly local population; Homo sapiens sol can be very friendly.
Your off-planet money will go a long way.
However, restrictions exist:
You can’t tell any of the natives that you’re from off planet.
You aren’t allowed to keep any off-planet technology except (perhaps) an escape UFO.
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November 12, 2011 You can’t reveal any ideas (such as the physics needed to build a UFO) that might affect local technology. Special brain implants might monitor what you speak and report any violations.
You are NEVER allowed to interfere with local politics.
COULD THE WEALTHIEST AMERICANS BE GOING OFF-PLANET FOR ADVENTURE HOLIDAYS? According to UFO mythology, “disclosure” has happened to top-secret military officials in the US. Some US military personnel may have even visited another planet. (http://www.serpo.org) “Disclosure” may have happened to the wealthiest Americans, Russians, and Chinese (aka: billionaires). If you were a billionaire, you might be able to spend a few million dollars (of gold or silver) and:
Take a UFO ride to a low-tech adventure planet, and shoot wild dinosaurs. Or, you might visit a low-tech medieval planet inhabited by other “Homo sapiens Sirius-B”.
Purchase a spacious holiday home (villa) on a secluded planet and escape the stresses of everyday life on Earth.
Is this technologically and theoretically possible? Yes. Is it financially viable for people (from other planets) to run such a tour operation? Yes. The wealthiest Homo sapiens sol are willing to pay millions of dollars for an adventure tour that costs the operators hundreds of thousands of dollars. Why haven’t I (as a native of Earth) heard of this? Maybe this isn’t happening. Or, maybe only the wealthiest 1,000 people have been taken off planet, and they aren’t 1582 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 allowed to take cameras with them, or bring high-tech souvenirs back. Would anyone believe their stories? If they posted their tale (or photos) on http://www.abovetopsecret.com would anyone believe them? No. Could such tours be legally sold to Homo sapiens sol (according to interplanetary law)? Maybe not. Laws are frequently broken though. If “Homo sapiens Nordic” and “Homo sapiens MIB” look like “Homo sapiens sol”, then the converse is true; wealthy “Homo sapiens sol” could be “smuggled” past authorities.
A randomly deep thought Homo sapiens have hair that grows forever, unlike fur, which falls out when it reaches a certain length. If you think about it, how could a Homo sapiens person without a haircut survive? Their long hair would hinder their movement and endanger their lives. Therefore, long hair must not have evolved until AFTER Homo sapiens invented flint knives.
A REVISED THEORY OF EVOLUTION (PART 3) – ELDER RACES THAT LOOK LIKE US “Homo sapiens Nordic” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordic_aliens) and “Homo sapiens MIB” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_in_black) exist according to UFO mythology.
Where and how could they have evolved? (See below.)
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November 12, 2011 How many other “alien” races have equivalent elder races? I suspect most of them do.
INTELLIGENT/TELEPATHIC PEOPLE TAKEN OFF PLANET As mentioned earlier, hundreds of thousands of very intelligent (or highly telepathic) humans could be removed off Earth annually. If they were “released” on another planet, and allowed to breed, they would certainly be statistically more intelligent than Homo sapiens sol, and might have invented or been given better technology than we currently have on Earth. Apart from their technology, they would be visually and genetically indistinguishable from Homo sapiens sol.
“LEFTOVERS” FROM THE 20,000-YEAR “BUILD YOUR OWN RACE” PLAN According to the 20,000 “build your own raced plan”, races are evolved by moving them from planet to planet over hundreds of thousands of years. What if another race moved 20,000 transitional Homo sapiens, such as 20,000 Homo neanderthalensis, from Earth (or another planet) and evolved a separate racial line? The descendants of Homo neanderthalensis might already be more intelligent than us, and might already have achieved space travel. If you saw a Homo neanderthalensis descendant on Earth, they might look like a stocky Arnold Schwarzenegger to you. Would you think that they were an “alien”, or a burly construction worker?
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TRYING TO BUILD A BETTER VERSION OF AN EXISTING RACE FROM SCRATCH Assume that Homo sapiens sol were evolved from Lucy ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucy_(Australopithecus) ), whose skeletal remains date back three million years. One elder race may have taken 20,000 Australopithecus individuals and evolved them into Homo sapiens sol (and maybe Homo sapiens Nordic and Homo sapiens MIB). A different elder race, on the other side of the galaxy, may have also taken 20,000 Australopithecus individuals and evolved them into a different species: Homo-B sapiens. “Homo-B sapiens” might look similar to Homo sapiens in the way that black-andwhite ruffed lemurs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black-and-white_Ruffed_Lemur) look similar to red ruffed lemurs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_ruffed_lemurs). They may (or may not) be able to breed with Homo sapiens sol. Would you notice “Homo-B sapiens” if you saw them walking in New York City? Most likely. Would you notice them if they wore enough makeup, and only stepped out of their UFOs at night?
ELDER RACES WALKING AMONGST US To quote Donald Rumsfeld, “These are things we do not know we don’t know.” Our elder races could be walking amongst us, invisible in plain sight. Why would they do this?
They could be on holiday here. Would you have any problems with this?
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November 12, 2011 They could be living here to get away from the stresses of high-tech life. They might have even fallen in love and married a “Homo sapiens sol” person. Would you object to this?
They could be here, acting as “big brothers” to ensure that we don’t make any fatal mistakes, and protecting us from other high-tech races/individuals. Is this a problem?
They could be purchasing Earth-originated goods (souvenirs, computers, and natural resources) and shipping them off planet. Such purchases might be legal, or they might be illegal, depending on interplanetary law. Would you object to this if you found out?
A worst-case scenario: They could use their identical appearance and technology to accumulate power, effectively “colonizing” the Earth. It would be like the Norman invasion of England, except without the military invasion, and without us knowing that we were invaded. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_conquest_of_England)
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November 12, 2011
AFRICA (PART 2) A LIST OF THIRD-WORLD PETTY DICTATORSHIPS Which third-world countries have petty dictatorships (or are in social upheaval)?
Africa o o o o o
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Ethiopia Somalia Sudan Zimbabwe Etc.
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Asia o o
Burma North Korea
Middle east o Afghanistan (was a petty dictatorship) o Iran o Iraq (was a petty dictatorship)
North America o Haiti
South America o Venezuela
WHAT ARE FIRST WORLD NATIONS DOING ABOUT THEM? Look through the list:
How are first world nations (such as the USA, Europe, Russia, and China) dealing with the petty dictatorships or countries in upheaval? Many first world nations are ignoring problems in their third-world cousin nations. For example: How many European troops and jet fighters would it take to oust the dictatorship in Zimbabwe? Not many, but Europeans refuse to commit troops to Zimbabwe.
How are first-world nations causing the dictatorships or upheaval in thirdworld nations?
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November 12, 2011 When was the last time your country used its military to overthrow a petty dictatorship? If you were a citizen of that petty dictatorship, would you want someone to overthrow your dictator?
WHY AREN’T FIRST WORLD NATIONS OUSTING DICTATORS IN AFRICA? First world nations have avoided sending troops into Africa since the “Blackhawk Down” event. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Mogadishu_(1993) ) Why?
The first-world public doesn’t think their blood and money is well spent helping Africans.
Most first-world nations don’t want to re-colonize Africa. Overthrowing a petty dictator might lead to re-colonization (which the Afghanis and Iraqis, recently invaded by the Americans, worry about).
First-world governments feel that South Africa, the most technologicallyadvanced sub-Saharan country, should send troops in to overthrow petty dictatorships in Africa (like Zimbabwe). This belief used as an excuse by first world nations to avoid Africa: If South Africa won’t commit troops to Zimbabwe, then why should European countries do so?
A deeply random thought Some potential “alien” points of view:
We help those (people in need) who help themselves.
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We help those who help others. – “First world nations: If you are doing nothing to help your poorer and lower-tech cousins, why should we (as your wealthier and higher-tech cousins), help you?”
THE “DEAD” LIST CALTECH I attended university at the California Institute of Technology (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_institute_of_technology), also know as “Caltech”. Caltech is known for a few things:
Caltech attracts the top 1% of engineering and physics students, matching (or rivaling - IMHO) the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massachusetts_institute_of_technology) and Princeton (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princeton_University).
Caltech’s staff boats an exceptionally large number of Nobel-Prize winners.
Leading technology corporations prefer to hire students from Caltech because they (a) are very intelligent, (b) they have an excellent education, and (c) they survived the stresses of a Caltech education. (You might even call Caltech a “Test village”… See below.)
Leading government agencies (such as the CIA and NSA) also hire students from Caltech for similar reasons. I don’t know how many of my classmates
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November 12, 2011 were hired by such agencies, because if they were hired by the CIA or NSA, they legally had to deny to their friends that they were hired.
FACEBOOK Just about all of my classmates at Caltech have enough “geek points” that they should all have Facebook accounts. (http://www.facebook.com) I can find only around half of my Caltech classmates on Facebook, which means:
They haven’t bothered with a Facebook account, or have sworn off computers… unlikely.
They are working for top-secret government agencies and aren’t legally allowed to have Facebook accounts… possible.
They are dead… or disappeared off planet…
70 people lived in my dormitory at any one time. Statistically, how many should have died in the 20 years since I graduated? The CDC shows a death rate of 126.7 per 100,000 individuals (per year) for that age group. (http://www.disastercenter.com/cdc/allcause.html) Which means that (126.7 * 20 * 70 / 100,000 =) 2 of my dormitory classmates should have died in the last 20 years. As someone from a top university, how do I find out how many of my classmates have disappeared or died? I can’t find out, except through hearsay and missing Facebook entries. If you are from a top university, how many of your classmates have gone missing or died? The numbers (theoretical “no Facebook” + theoretical “top secret” + theoretical “dead”) from my dormitory don’t add up. I suspect (but don’t know for sure) that more of my classmates have died (or disappeared) than theoretically should have. I don’t know though. 1591 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Prior to Facebook (and www.Classmates.com), no-one has been able to easily identify how many members of a graduating class have gone missing or died. Even with Facebook, the task is impossible.
A deeply random thought If you were a scientist (from another planet) researching Homo sapiens sol, and you were interested in studying “the best and the brightest” Homo sapiens sol, what university would you spy on with your UFOs and invisible cameras? Would you follow them throughout their life? Like “Seven Up” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Up! ). If you were a person (from another planet) collecting sperm or ovum (see below), how would you determine who to collect them from? If you were a person (from another planet) and interested in taking “the best and brightest” Homo sapiens sol off-planet to work for you, how would you find “the best and the brightest” people? If you were a person (from another planet) who did brain transplants (see below), where would you get the brain-matter from? Very intelligent people are valuable resources. Very intelligent people that attend top-tier universities are easily identifiable valuable resources, and are therefore “low cost” resources to acquire.
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November 12, 2011
PLANETS –CATEGORIZATIONS (PART 2) Below are some possible planet classifications. Be aware that all categories are “vague and fuzzy”.
UNINHABITABLE Most planets (like Mercury) are uninhabitable by all life except for simple multicellular or unintelligent life.
GARDEN PLANETS Garden planets are inhabitable planets marked as “nature reserves” or “for future use”. Garden planets often have animal life whose intelligence is four standard deviations (or more) below that of human intelligence. Such life generally isn’t capable of creating technology. Some configurations of garden planets are:
One or two continent planets – As described above.
Multiple continent planets with mountains – Like Earth. Multiple continents provide an ocean barrier between continents that encourages a diversity of wildlife. Mountains ensure that water reaches the centre of the continent, enabling more-diverse biomes.
Island planets – These are geologically active planets with hundreds of volcanic islands and island chains.
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RACIAL INCUBATORS “Racial incubator” planets are used to host the evolution of intelligent races using the “20,000 year plan”. They are off-limits to higher-tech cultures except for the purpose of scientific study (and the occasional tourist... just like Antarctica is for humans). Some types of racial incubator planets are:
Intelligent but little building/mining – The races are intelligent but don’t have the urge to build permanent structures or mine resources. Once their intelligence-level has evolved high enough, they can be removed from the planet en-masse without a trace of their civilization being left behind. A few such races may have been evolved on Earth and removed millions of years ago.
Provided with technology – As a race becomes more intelligent, it could be provided with sine technology without the race having to invent or manufacture all its own technology. Such races might be provided UFOs before they have constructed road networks, or even rail networks. Africa is an example on Earth, since Africans invent and manufacture little of their technology, but have access to automobiles, mobile phones, and computers.
Self-invented and self-manufactured technology – The race is allowed enough time to invent and manufacture its own technology, like on Earth. Interstellar technologies may be provided later on, once the members of the race achieve a specific goal, like landing on a nearby moon or planet using chemical rockets. The control of interstellar travel is vital for the stability of the galaxy. Providing a race rented interstellar vehicles before they invent their own technology ensures that they can’t “run amok”.
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November 12, 2011 As stated earlier, high-tech cities or continents might exist within racial-incubator planets, with most of the population being unaware of the high-tech portions of the world.
INTERSTELLAR CULTURES Once a society achieves interstellar travel, usually with the aid of higher-tech societies, the societies can take a few directions:
Single or dual-racial planets – The planet retains the same races that evolved on them. Most inhabitants of the planet prefer NOT to interact with other races.
Multiracial planets – Upon disclosure, inhabitants of the planet welcome the migration of other races.
Colonies on garden planets – An interplanetary society colonizes all or part of a garden planet.
Colonies on incubator planets – An interplanetary society colonizes all or part of an incubator planet, often leading to the enslavement or marginalization of the indigenous population.
FAILURES Some planets are classified as “failures”:
“Indian reserves” or “Australian Aboriginal communities” – I’m using two terms from Earth. To be very crude, American “Indian reserves” and Australian “Aboriginal communities” are places on Earth where people who
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November 12, 2011 can’t (or don’t want to) survive in modern society are placed. This could happen to Earth if Homo sapiens sol are unable to integrate into an interstellar community.
Forgotten planets – These planets have been “sealed off” and transportation to/from the planets is severely restricted, often because the governments of the planets are too dangerous to deal with. North Korea is an example of a “Forgotten country” on Earth. This could happen to Earth if humans become belligerent towards “aliens”.
Wastelands – These planets have been devastated by war: Thermonuclear bombs, proto-nuclear bombs, reality bombs, extradimensionally shifted bombs, or core-melted. This may have happened to Mars.
EXTRA-PLANETARY CULTURES Some cultures are extra-planetary, and no-longer “leave footprints” on the planets they inhabit:
Demountable and/or walking cities – The cities wander around garden planets. To minimize their environmental impact, they are either moved from time to time, or move themselves.
Invisible cities – Using extradimensional (or other) technologies, some cultures may live in their own high-tech cities, located on lower-tech racialincubator and interstellar planets, but remain invisible to the lower-tech populations on the planet.
Elder races living among younger races – As stated previously, “Homo sapiens Nordic” could be living on Earth with us, “Homo sapiens sol”, and we would never notice them.
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November 12, 2011 UFO nomads – Just as many retirees live permanently in Winnebagos, some races might live permanently in UFOs.
Other –???
A deeply random thought Nine out of ten “aliens” don’t wear clothes on their UFOs.
EARTH – EXTRADIMENSIONAL SHOPLIFTING WHERE TO SHOPLIFT Extradimensional UFOs can travel anywhere on Earth without being detected. People can be abducted from anywhere on Earth. Just imagine how easy shoplifting would be...
Theft from abductee’s homes – If a bottle of wine went missing from an abductee’s home, would they notice?
Shoplifting from retail stores – According to Wikipedia, 0.6% of all inventories disappears to shoplifters. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoplifting) Some of the shoplifting could be easily done by people (from other planets) at night. Non-“Homo sapiens” wouldn’t care much for our clothing and shoes. Food, digital cameras, and computers might be desirable though.
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November 12, 2011 Stealing from pre-retail warehouses – Before an item is displayed on store shelves, it is often stored in a large warehouse someplace in the city. I can’t find statistics on how much is stolen from pre-retail warehouses, but 1% (or more) wouldn’t be unreasonable. Extradimensional UFOs would make such theft easy also.
Stealing from post-manufacture warehouses – After an item is manufactured, it is stored in a warehouse, ready to be shipped to a preretail warehouse. Theft is also possible here.
Agricultural theft – Many agricultural goods are stored in grain silos, vats, or other poorly-inventoried warehouses. An extradimensional craft could easy displace a ton of wheat from a grain silo without being noticed, visually or by an accountant. Beef cattle and large fish are also easily abducted.
Mining theft – Extradimensional technology could make mineral extraction of heavy metals (such as gold and uranium) from crushed rock very easy. Could UFOs extract valuable minerals from recently-excavated rock/soil on a nightly basis, before it is loaded onto trains and shipped to refineries? What percent of minerals could be extracted without their theft ever being noticed?
OTHER EXTRA-PLANETARY THEFTS What else might people (from other planets) steal?
Trade secrets – Invisible cameras could be used to steal trade secrets, such as how to produce medicines, computers, or military machinery.
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November 12, 2011 Military equipment – Some military equipment could be stolen, such as valuable items like nuclear bombs or their fissile materials. (Don’t assume that uranium and plutonium are common on all planets.)
Entertainment content – Many Americans enjoy watching Japanese anime, despite the culture and language difference. Many people in Southeast Asia enjoy watching pirated American movies. Could people (from other planets) be pirating movies, computer games, music, and books? Can Sony sue someone on another planet for music piracy?
Antiquities – Antiquities are valuable on Earth. Why wouldn’t they be valuable off planet? Could the tombs of the Pharaohs have been raided by people (from other planets)?
Other stuff – I’ll discuss other “thefts” later on.
WHO COULD BE SHOPLIFTING? Shoplifting, particularly of retail food items, could be petty theft by people (from other planets) “living off the land”, so they don’t have to import and store food from another planet. Larger thefts, particularly those of valuable heavy metals and intellectual property, might be accomplished by organized crime, of any “alien” race.
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November 12, 2011 agriculture goods and minerals, some of which could be “skimmed” and stolen by an off-planet mafia.
“UNITED NATIONS” PEACEKEEPING FORCE (OF PEOPLE FROM OTHER PLANETS) PRIME DIRECTIVE If people (from other planets) have been visiting earth for more than 60 years, which is likely, then there must be some interplanetary law preventing them from invading the earth. If there weren’t any law, then someone would have invaded and occupied the Earth long ago. The Star Trek (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek) series hypothesized this concept as the “Prime Directive”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_directive)
PEACEKEEPING FORCE If there is a “Prime Directive”, then someone must be enforcing it:
An empire could be enforcing the prime directive. Or...
A “united nations” of people (from other planets) could be enforcing the prime directive.
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I don’t know what type of organization is enforcing the law, but I hope the enforcers are from a “united nations”. If they are from an Empire, then the Empire seems fairly benevolent/benign... or we’d have been turned into slaves long ago. If the enforcers are part of a “united nations” then the “Africa – Somalia – Blackhawk helicopter down” section is very relevant: If we shoot down a UFO, are we shooting down an “American Blackhawk”, a peacekeeping UFO sent in by “the good guys”?
ORGANIZED CRIME All countries on Earth have crime and organized crime. Why should countries on other planets be any different? Regardless of who is enforcing the “Prime Directive”, criminal acts and organized crime by people (from other planets) are a given. Only the extent of the off-planetoriginating crime and organized crime is in question. Which leads to deeper thoughts about the “Blackhawk helicopter down” incidence in Somalia... If we shoot down a UFO, what is the probability that the UFO is controlled by criminals? Or by peacekeepers? Or by off-planet tourists? To answer the question differently: If you are an African and see an unmarked helicopter overhead, and shoot it down, what is the probability that you shoot down a criminal’s helicopter? A peacekeeping helicopter? Or a tourist helicopter?
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DO THE US, RUSSIAN, AND CHINESE GOVERNMENTS HAVE PROTOCOLS WITH THE INTERSTELLAR “UNITED NATIONS” This leads to another question... Do the US, European, Russian, and Chinese governments have protocols with the interstellar “united nations” that allow them to identify “the good guys” and not shoot them down? UFO mythology describes UFOs being shot down, or at least harassed. Which leads to another question... Could organized criminals be pretending to be “the good guys” to the naive Earth-based governments, and conning the US, European, Russian, and Chinese governments to shoot down UFOs from the interstellar “United nations”. Which leads to another question... Or, would the US, European, Russian, and Chinese militaries knowingly work with the off-planet mafias to acquire illegal hightech military technology which the interstellar “united nations” wouldn’t provide them? Which leads to another question... How many “Blackhawks” did the Somalis have to shoot down before the “good guys” left, and the organized criminals take over? Which leads to another question... If the US, European, Russian, and Chinese governments were cooperating with an interstellar “united nations”, wouldn’t “disclosure” have already have happened? Would there be so many abductions? Conversely... Organized off-planet criminals might find it beneficial to (a) keep the interstellar “united nations” away from Earth (by encouraging the US, Europe, China, and Russia to shoot down UFOs, just as the warlords in Mogadishu found it beneficial to shoot down the US Blackhawk helicopter), and (b) prevent “disclosure”.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought You cannot mention UFOs in the mass media without them ridiculing you. Once you have mentioned UFOs, and have been ridiculed, then the twominute segment ends, and a story about Paris Hilton takes over. Just watch the videos on, http://www.nickpope.net/interviews.htm. All of the reporters are skeptical about the existence of UFOs (perhaps because the reporters fear being ridiculed themselves), and they never get around to asking why UFOs exist. The mass-media cannot overcome the “Do UFOs exist?” question and tackle the more interesting question: “If UFOs exist then why are they here?”
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November 12, 2011 The bright light (upper-left) is the moon, over-exposed. I saw the moon, with “mach bands” around it (the “mach bands” were obviously not natural), a large circle/sphere “clouds”-border around the moon (obviously not natural), and wispy clouds swept around the circle/sphere.
WARNING: The ideas presented in this document are going to get less-andless believable, and diverge furtherand-further from contemporary UFO mythology. You may wish to think of the rest of this document as “very interesting science fiction”.
ANTI-UFO WEAPONS – EXTRADIMENSIONAL GATLING GUNS (PART 1) How do you make a weapon to shoot down dematerialized extradimensional UFOs?
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November 12, 2011 Easy. You make a dematerialized extradimensional Gatling gun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gatling_gun) that shoots dematerialized extradimensional bullets (preferably using a heavy metal like uranium or plutonium) in “perturbed” extra-dimensions. Effectively, a Gatling gun is placed on a platform that vibrates extradimensionally. When the gun is fired: 1.
A few of the very-dense bullets will hit the UFO, and puncture its hull. Most of the bullets will “fly through” the UFO because they “miss” extradimensionally.
2.
Once the hull is punctured, the interior of the UFO “decompresses” (in an extradimensional sense) and the UFO’s occupants die unless they are wearing encounter suits.
3.
To prevent the Earth-based governments from achieving advanced technology, and perhaps to save the potentially-alive occupants the trauma of an impact, the UFO may automatically push itself into a safer extradimensional layer (see below) where the UFO (and potentially its occupants) can be rescued. This could explain why so few UFO wreckages are found by the US and Russia.
A randomly deep thought Gulliver’s Travels, written in 1726, mentions Houyhnhnms, intelligent horses that control Yahoos, unintelligent humans. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulliver%27s_travels, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/829/829-h/829-h.htm)
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TEST VILLAS (PART 1) This section is based on a bit of speculation, so you might treat it as “science fiction”, if you like:
A HOLIDAY HOME (VILLA) If the wealthiest 1000 humans are flown off to off-planet holiday homes (villas) once in awhile, what could the experience be like?
The villa might be located in a secluded but picturesque forest.
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A few servants would maintain the villa and grounds. Many of the servants would be non-“Homo sapiens”; intentionally selected to be “exotic” to the wealthy Homo sapiens, but not dangerous looking. They might be evolved from monkeys, for example.
The villa would include a horse or two for the guests to ride.
A friendly alien dog or large cat might roam around and spend nights sleeping near the guests’ beds.
Wealthy guests would be invited on short “adventure” excursions.
THE TEST (PART 1) As I stated in http://www.disclosuree.com/GeopoliticalAlien.pdf, “Every interaction may be a test of intelligence and/or character.” A savvy guest might guess that the servants are watching and testing them, which all servants do. The wealthy guest might be prudently cautious of speaking in front of them. What the guests wouldn’t know, is that the alien “animals” (horses, and dog or cat) could be more intelligent than the guests. After all, terrestrial horses and dogs aren’t very intelligent, so why should extraterrestrial horses and dogs be? The alien “animals” might have an intelligence several standard deviations above Homo sapiens, and be trained in psychology. They could run various tests on their Homo sapiens:
What do the wealthy guests talk about when they’re in private?
What do they do on Earth? How politically and financially powerful are they? Are they helping or hurting the stability of the planet? 1607 | P a g e
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What do they know about what is happening on Earth that never makes the news? For example: Do the wealthy guests know the mechanisms by which democratic elections are rigged in the favour of the wealthy elite?
What do the guests think about the “aliens”?
How intelligent are the guests?
How honest are the guests?
Do the guests realize that “their” extraterrestrial horses and pet dog/cat are intelligent? How much prompting do the guests require before they realize this?
Why run these intelligence and personality tests? The 1000 wealthiest Homo sapiens are the most financially and politically powerful people on Earth, and they could have undo influence on “disclosure” and/or the stability of Earth-based governments.
THE TEST – ADVENTURE HOLIDAYS ( PART 2) “Adventure” excursions included with the off-planet trip might also be “tests” to psychologically test the guests under different conditions:
How many wild tyrannosaurus dinosaurs do the guests wantonly shoot?
Do the guests try to smuggle goods to/from Earth?
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November 12, 2011 Do the guests intermingle with the “impoverished alien villagers” they meet?
In general, do the guests make “asses” of themselves, or show their better nature?
THE CONSEQUENCES Who would provide the Homo sapiens with access to the off-planet villas? Would such holidays be provided by the mafia? Or by the interstellar “united nations”? Guests who perform well on the tests might:
Be invited on other excursions.
Be “hired” by the off-planet organization to help them on Earth. Wealthy and influential Homo sapiens are important “resources” for any political organization, particularly one run by people that could not intermingle with Homo sapiens on Earth because they don’t look the same.
Guests who don’t perform well on tests may have a habit of:
Suffering a terminal disease a year or two after returning home, perhaps a heart attack or stroke.
Not returning to the Earth. Would a wealthy person who had gone missing, particularly someone who kept out of the media’s spotlight, ever have their disappearance reported in the news?
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A randomly deep thought Apparently, jump-starting your home-made UFO with a lightning bolt (as per Frankenstein) is a bad idea.
TELEPATHY (PART 2) TELEPATHY ISN’T RELIABLE Even though telepathy can be provided by high-tech implants, telepathy isn’t reliable:
A telepath might think they know who they’re “talking” to, but it is very easy to impersonate other people’s “telepathic voice”, easier than impersonating people acoustically using text-to-speech. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Text_to_speech)
Telepathic sentences and conversations can be forwarded anywhere, as well as intercepted and spied upon. Nothing is private. Encryption of the signal is possible, but the more encryption that is used, the more eager other people are to decrypt the signal and understand the conversation.
Telepathic sentences are easily censored (and “didacticed”).
Telepathic sentences can be “reworded”, changing the meaning of the sentence.
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November 12, 2011 Telepathic sentences can be delay-broadcasted, a useful tool for censorship and “rewording”
Telepathic conversations can be recorded and rebroadcast.
TELEPATHIC ATTACKS Telepathy can be used to illegally attack people:
Some people and organizations can “listen in” to telepathy broadcasts and use triangulation, names mentioned in the telepathic conversation, and linked spy-cams to identify telepaths. Similarly, someone walking down the streets of London, talking on their cell-phone, can be located and watched using cell-phone signal triangulation and London’s security-camera network. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Closed-circuit_television)
Skilled telepaths can “silently” ask telepaths questions, such as “Who are you?” or “Are you telling the truth?”, that are automatically answered by the telepathy’s subconscious brain.
As stated in the “Abduction” section, implants can be used to make people tired and keep them asleep during an abduction... or while they’re driving a car or flying a plane.
Telepathy implants might be used to “freeze” a person’s muscles under certain circumstances, also useful for abductions.
Implants can be used to induce psychological depression.
Implants can be used to illegally induce “lust” in an abductee, useful for “sex” abductions.
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November 12, 2011 Telepaths can implant thoughts (conscious or subconscious) in other telepaths. With a controlling telepath’s skill and persistence, and a weak mind on the receiving end, someone’s thoughts can be “adjusted”. People can’t be made to do something they would consciously object to, but a racist person can be telepathically convinced to be slightly more racist, and a religious person can be made slightly more religious. Ironically, someone who is sceptical about the existence of UFOs can be made more sceptical with the help of their implants. J. K. Rowling calls this the Imperius Curse (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperius_curse#Imperio_.28Imperius_Curse.2 9)
A deeply random thought Imagine the possibilities:
A brain implant is implanted into a human author.
Someone in a UFO provides conscious (or subconscious) story suggestions to the author about off-planet life. Some of the ideas may “come to” the author in a dream.
The author writes the story, propagating memes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meme) and knowledge about off-planet life to the story’s Earth-based readers.
How many fantasy and science fiction authors (and script writers) have been influenced by “aliens”? For example: Steven Spielberg (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Spielberg) seems to have an obsession with “greys”.
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TEST VILLAGES (PART 1) CALTECH IS A “TEST VILLAGE” Everyone who attends Caltech (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech), as I did, quickly figures out that Caltech is hell. The purpose of Caltech is to (a) teach, (b) weed out less-intelligent students (usually through the difficult admissions criteria), and (c) weed out students who aren’t willing to work hard. Caltech acts like a sieve: Students apply to enter Caltech. Four (to five) years later, only the “best” students leave with a diploma. Of course, potential employers appreciate the Caltech sieve, saving them effort (money and resources) with their own “interview” sieves.
MY HOME TOWN OF “EAST AURORA” IS A TEST VILLAGE My home town of East Aurora (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Aurora) is also a test village. East Aurora is a somewhat-upper middle-class town that prides itself in looking like a 19th century village. Children are born or move to East Aurora:
They must pass through the elementary, middle, and high-school sieves.
High-school students must pass the “binge drinking” and “drugs” sieves. When I grew up, East Aurora had no shopping mall where teenagers could “hang out” at night. “Concerned” citizens of East Aurora shut down the local arcade (with Pac Man, Galaxian, and whatnot), another teenager
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November 12, 2011 haunt. Consequently, many of my bored and rebellious classmates spent their weekends binge drinking near the railroad tracks or farmer’s field.
High-school graduates must decide if they wish to stay in East Aurora, move to a neighbouring town, move to New York City, move out of state, or move to the opposite side of the planet (aka: Australia).
I am going to offend many people in East Aurora by stating this, but:
My classmates who stayed in East Aurora, are, for the most part: Statistically not risk takers, statistically socially conservative (liking 19th century houses filled with a spouse and 2.2 children), statistically less educated, and statistically less intelligent.
My classmates who escaped East Aurora are: Statistically risk takers, statistically socially liberal, statistically better educated, statistically more intelligent.
If someone were to ask an East Aurora alumni the simple question, “Do you still live in East Aurora?”, the interviewer could guess something about the alumni’s personality.
A deeply random thought Interestingly (and significantly), East Aurora was once (in the early 1900’s) a forward-looking community building modern architecture, because it was the centre of the Roycroft Movement (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roycroft, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elbert_Hubbard). Contemporary East Auroran building designs encourage backwards-looking 19th century pastiche 1614 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 architecture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pastiche)
“INVERSE” TEST VILLAGES Conversely, some test villages attract certain personality types. In Australia, Nimbin (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nimbin) is known for attracting “hippies”. If someone lives in Nimbin, you statistically know something about them.
IS THE EARTH A “TEST PLANET”? Here is an interesting (and profound) question: Is (or was) the Earth a “test planet”?
Have the universities of Earth been used by people (from other planets) to quickly and easily identify the most intelligent Homo sapiens? Are such graduates prime candidates for abduction and migration to other planets?
Even if intelligent Homo sapiens AREN’T being removed from Earth now, were we removed 100+ years ago when “missing persons” lists didn’t exist? Would a forward-looking village like East Aurora have been used to identify potential abductees?
Is part of the “test” of the Earth to figure out that it is a test planet?
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A randomly deep thought I attended university at Caltech. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech) When I first read the Harry Potter series (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_potter), I noticed that the Caltech “house” named “Fleming” had a strong resemblance to J. K. Rowling’s Slytherin house. To a much-lesser extent… Caltech’s Dabney and Ricketts were similar to Hufflepuff. Page was similar to Ravenclaw, and my own house, Lloyd, was similar to Gryffindor. IMHO, at least. I even recall meeting a student who was just as spacey as Luna Lovegood (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luna_Lovegood#Luna_Lovegood), except instead of writing for the Quibbler, she meowed… literally.
EXTRADIMENSIONAL SURGERY (PART 1) Extradimensional technologies (see above) could radically improve surgery.
SCANNERS Contemporary human technology includes various “scanning” techniques: X-rays, CAT scans (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cat_scan), and MRI’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mri). Extradimensional technologies allow for other “scanning” approaches:
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November 12, 2011 Scanning plate – A very thin plate is displaced extradimensionally and dragged “through” a person’s body. The plate only reacts weakly with the matter in the person’s body, but strongly enough to produce a threedimensional image of the person’s body, similar to a MRI, but not as obnoxious. (I have had an MRI, and would not recommend it to anyone.)
Looking “inside” the patient – Either the patient or surgeon can be displaced extradimensionally and the surgeon could literally “look inside” the patient’s body.
SURGERY As mentioned above, if a surgeon can “look inside” the patient’s body, then they can use extradimensional tools to perform surgery without cutting the patient’s skin or muscles, or breaking the patient’s rib cage to perform heart surgery, or cutting through someone’s skull to perform brain surgery. Extradimensional surgery might include:
The addition or removal of implants, as mentioned above.
The removal of bone fragments from broken or fractured bones, including the “gluing” together of fractured bones.
Vascular micro-surgery.
Brain surgery (see below).
Dentistry – Easy tooth removal and cavity filling. Calcium and fluoride can be extradimensionally infused into the teeth interiors instead of “soaked in” from the outside.
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Etcetera. Surgery is revolutionized by extradimensional technologies.
WEAPON BOTS I previously described “invisible cameras”. Similar extradimensional micro-UAVs can be used for more sinister reasons:
Spy bots – This is another name for “invisible cameras”. Invisible cameras can be used to spy on people, particularly political and military people.
Implant bots – I already described “implant bots”. An implant isn’t necessarily beneficial for the person receiving the implant. Implants can be used to spy on people.
Implant-removal bots – Implants are valuable technology. An implant bot could just as easily remove implants to (a) sell them, or (b) analyse the “data” they collect (but don’t broadcast) on the person in whose brain they were located. “Data” might include a university education in physics, or the secrets of an atomic-bomb program.
Telepathic-attack bots – Most of the telepathic attacks can be performed automatically by an invisible extradimensional UAV. For a relatively low cost, large populations of implanted people can be kept depressed or have the “imperius curse” maintained.
Kill bots – Invisible extradimensional UAVs can be equipped with a pellet gun that shoots extradimensional “bullets”. When fired at an extradimensional angle, the bullets can puncture small holes in people’s hearts (causing angina or heart attacks) or brains (causing brain damage, seizures, brain haemorrhages, and even death). Would any post-mortem
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November 12, 2011 performed by a human doctor identify the “cause of death” as being from an “alien” kill-bot?
Parasite/pathogen bots – If a brain implant can be added by an extradimensional bot, why couldn’t a bot implant a genetically-engineered parasite or pathogen into someone’s body? Trichinosis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trichinosis) might be a deadly and undetectable nervous-system parasite that could be weaponized.
A randomly deep thought Land mines (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landmines) are banned by many countries, but seem to find their way into 3rd world countries like Afghanistan (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/2153371.stm). Could weapons like kill bots and parasite/pathogen bots be banned on civilized planets, but be finding their way onto Earth (a 3rd world country)? Would anyone on Earth know if kill bots and parasite/pathogen bots were used to assassinate people?
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EXTRADIMENSIONAL SURGERY – BRAIN SURGERY (PART 2) Obviously, brain surgery would be revolutionized by extradimensional surgical techniques since surgeons wouldn’t have to cut through the person’s skull, and wouldn’t have to “cut through” brain matter to get to the surgical area.
BRAIN TRANSPLANTS Brain-transplants in mice have already been experimentally performed by human scientists. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brain_transplants, http://www.nytimes.com/1982/06/18/us/transplant-success-reported-with-part-ofa-mouse-s-brain.html) Could advances in brain-transplant technology beyond our own skills, combined with extradimensional surgery, enable human-to-human brain transplants? What about human-to-alien brain transplants?
RAMIFICATIONS OF BRAIN TRANSPLANTS What are the ramifications of brain transplants?
People with damaged brains could receive brain transplants from recentlydeceased individuals, just like people with damaged hearts, livers, kidneys, and lungs receive organ transplants. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organ_transplant)
People with partially-damaged brains (perhaps as a result of encephalopathy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Encephalopathy)) could receive brain transplants from deceased brains, or friends and relatives.
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November 12, 2011 People whose brains have been damaged by kill bots (see above) might need partial brain replacements.
Organs for human transplant can be sourced from animals (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xenotransplantation, http://www.nytimes.com/1984/11/11/us/baboon-transplant-testsdescribed.html). Animal brains might be used for brain transplants. Would they be intelligent enough when placed in a human/alien brain?
Organ theft (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organ_theft) exists in many third-world countries, since the organs fetch a high price from first-world patients in need of the organ transplants. Could organized criminals use Earth (a 3rd world country) as a source of organs for their 1st-world offplanet patients? How valuable would “Homo sapiens sol” brains be to “Homo sapiens MIB” and other genetically related races, such as humanoid mice?
Special “brain bots” (or brain boxes) could be sent to “cut out” the brains of recently deceased people, and extradimensionally extract their brain. Would anyone on Earth notice if a deceased-person’s brain were removed? How often are skulls opened up during an autopsy?
If the someone’s brain were entirely or partially removed, and implanted in another person’s brain, would the other person “know” information known by the transplant brain? Would the recipient behave like the person who sourced the brain? Would the source brain be able to “take over”? Could this technology allow someone to outlive their body? How much money would a dying wealthy individual pay in order to live forever? All that is needed is a brain-transplant surgeon and a body (minus one brain) to transplant into. Isn’t that what Lord Voldemort (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voldemort) (from Harry Potter) was trying to do, live forever?
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November 12, 2011 Conversely, if the brain of an intelligent race (such as a Homo sapiens sol) were removed and placed into the body of an animal with a sufficiently large cranial capacity, would the person’s awareness stay alive inside the animal?
A randomly deep thought Jokingly, consult your doctor for proper medical advice: The following foods are recommended for people who have had brain-replacement surgery:
The best dark chocolate you can buy.
Peanut butter.
Omega-3 pills, lots of them.
UNDERGROUND BASES Underground bases are relatively easy to construct using extradimensional UFOs: 1.
A specialized “excavator UFO” is rented from a machine-rental business, similar to renting excavators and bulldozers on Earth. (http://www.nashbros.com.au)
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November 12, 2011 2. Travelling in extradimensional space, the excavator UFO flies underground, pulls several tons of rock out of ordinary three-dimensional space and into the excavator UFO’s bay. 3.
The excavator UFO drops the rock in the ocean or under the carpet... so noone notices. For an extra fee, the excavator UFO will drop the rock on people’s houses.
4.
The tunnels are reinforced and sealed with a water-resistant lining.
5.
Pumps are installed in the tunnels to remove water to a specialized watertransport UFO, which occasionally flies up through the ground and dumps the water.
6.
If the base were idiotically built below the water table, then it would flood, and the base-designer engineers would get fired. Therefore, underground bases tend to be built under deserts, or in hills.
What are the advantages of an underground base?
Living in an extradimensionally hidden UFO is actually very uncomfortable, making people feel nauseous.
Underground bases have more living and storage space.
Underground bases can’t be shot down by anti-UFO Gatling guns.
People (from other planets) who build underground bases don’t possess the technology (or finances) to live in “cubes”. (See below.)
Underground bases are often built underneath “test villages” that are located in deserts, or built on top of hills. People (from other planets) living
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November 12, 2011 in the underground bases monitor the “Homo sapiens sol” in the test villages.
CUBES (ABOVE-GROUND BASES) “Cubes” are:
Cubes are UFOs with weak extradimensional engines that let them stay extradimensionally offset from ordinary three-dimensional space so that they aren’t spotted by Homo sapiens sol.
Cubes have no transportation engines. They can’t move on their own. If UFOs are flying Winnebagos, then cubes are demountable trailers.
Cubes have portals that enable their occupants to enter and leave ordinary three dimensional space, and docked UFOs.
Cubes are often cube-shaped because they’re cheaper to build and more space-efficient than “spheres”.
How are “cubes” used?
They are much nicer to live in than those damp underground Saurian bases.
Cubes are easier to relocate than underground bases.
Cubes often come delivered with plush interiors, including kitchenettes and mini-malls.
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November 12, 2011 Cubes are often placed on hills above “test villages”, similar to the hidden observation buildings in Star Trek Insurrection. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Insurrection)
A deeply random thought How many of the Earth’s wealthiest families own “cubes”? Their cubes wouldn’t be visible. They would provide extra high-security living spaces, somewhat protected from spy-bots and kill-bots, and in which valuable (and/or illegal) possessions could be kept. A UFO docking port might also come in handy.
AFRICA – PETTY DICTATORSHIPS AND “ALIEN” INVOLVEMENT? If you were a criminal gang (from another planet), you might find the following business proposition to be interesting: 1.
Find a 3rd-world African country with valuable resources, such as mineral resources (diamonds, gold, uranium, etc.).
2.
Use bribery, blackmail, and/or brain implants (imperius curse) to “recruit” top government and military officials.
3.
Money is an extremely powerful incentive in small and impoverished 3 rd world countries. A small criminal gang from any extraterrestrial race could work with, and prop up, a petty dictatorship; the race would NOT have to look like Homo sapiens or be fluent in their culture.
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November 12, 2011 4. Use the top government and military officials to oppress the population, creating a petty dictatorship. 5.
Control the news media. All dictatorships do this.
6.
To keep 1st-world nations like the US, Europe, Russia, and China from overthrowing the petty dictatorship, your criminal gang might have the African nation’s military boast about their thermonuclear bomb... which is really your criminal gang’s thermonuclear bomb. An earthquake generated by a small thermonuclear explosion might be necessary as proof.
7.
Exploit the country’s resources without fear of government or UN involvement, shipping the resources off planet.
8.
All dictatorships come to an end; the off-planet criminal gang would have plans to disappear in their UFOs. The “Homo sapiens sol” petty dictators would have money squirreled away in Swiss bank accounts and be prepared retire in anonymity in 1st world countries on Earth.
A randomly deep thought Never accidentally use a de-neuralizer on yourself. It’s like falling asleep in a suntan booth, but worse. Conversely, accidentally neutralizing yourself is lots of fun.
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INDIGENOUS TELEPATHI C FOOT-SOLDIERS WORKING FOR THE OFF-PLANET MAFIA The following scenario is a bit “far-fetched”, but it could happen: An off-planet mafia trying to control an Earth-based government must “employ” indigenous (Homo sapiens sol) foot-soldiers with telepathy. (I’ll explain why in a moment.)
TELEPATHIC FOOT-SOLDIER RESUME The basic requirements for such people are:
Someone who is naturally a “follower” or controllable. Free-thinking people need not apply.
A brain that accepts telepathy implants easily.
A brain that is easily controllable (imperius curse) via implants.
Someone whose ideology is (a) similarly aligned with the mafia’s, and (b) easily perverted to the mafia’s causes.
Someone who has never been oppressed, and is thus willing to oppress other people. (I’ll explain why.)
WHAT TELEPATHIC FOOT-SOLDIERS DO For an off-planet mafia trying to control an Earth-based country, the most important jobs for foot-soldiers are: 1627 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Prevent the general population from believing in UFOs and “aliens” – Although this sounds incredibly ironic, an off-planet mafia can moreeffectively use its extradimensional technology if the general population doesn’t believe that the technology exists. Using a low-tech example: If Afghanis didn’t believe in American UAVs, then Afghan terrorists wouldn’t hide from the UAV’s aerial cameras and missiles, making them easier targets for the UAVs.
Harassing people that believe in and talk about UFOs and “aliens”
Harassing (often violently) people that believe in and talk about the existence of the off-planet mafia.
Wielding political power (such as voting and complaints to the media/government) as directed by the mafia.
Applying for employment in positions of power, usually the government.
Finding and persuading like-minded non-telepathic friends. Friends are encouraged to harass and wield political power as directed by leaders.
RELIGIOUS TELEPATHIC ELITE One source for mafia foot-soldiers is from fundamentalist religious organizations (Christian, Muslim, Hindu, etc.). These people are ideal because:
Almost by definition, fundamentalists (a) eagerly follow the guidance of their religious leaders, and (b) believe completely in the truth of their religious documents. They are excellent followers.
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November 12, 2011 Fundamentalist religions are well organized and can easily (a) find potential telepathic “elites” from their congregations, and (b) instruct the “elites” on how use their telepathy.
Fundamentalist religious people don’t mind talking to “angels”... via their mafia-supplied brain-implants, installed by implant bots. Conversely, most normal people that “hear” voices worry that they’re crazy.
Obviously, the “angels” (played by off-planet mafia members) would provide an individual’s secret orders. The organization’s elite leadership would provide more general orders.
Anyone that the mafia didn’t like would be portrayed as demons or Satanists.
As a general rule, the following people would be classified as “demons” or “Satanists”:
“Aliens” who were not part of the off-planet mafia. In particular, saurians and (people formerly known as) “greys” could easily be portrayed as demons to Christians, Muslims, and Jews. For this to work, members of the off-planet mafia MUST look like Homo sapiens. Perhaps they could be “Homo sapiens MIB”. Saurians and (people formerly known as) “greys” don’t understand our culture, cannot telepathically pretend to be angels, nor can they intermingle with the undisclosed “Homo sapiens sol” population.
Anyone who believed in UFOs and “aliens” would be considered to either be (a) crazy and in need of telepathic “help”, (b) possessed by demons (and in need of telepathic exorcism), or (c) in league with demons (and in need of telepathic harassment).
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Since UFOs and aliens might not actually exist, according to religious doctrine, other minority scapegoats would be included in the “in league with the devil” pantheon: Homosexuals, people that play video games, people that watch science fiction, people that read Harry Potter, blacks, furries, etc.
The religious telepathic elite would:
Monitor local telepathic “airwaves” for telepathic people thinking about forbidden topics, such as UFOs and “aliens”. After all, abductees are provided implants that enable telepathy.
Try to nicely convince abductees (and other minority groups) about the errors of their ways... by consciously or sub-consciously convincing them (using the imperius curse) that aliens don’t exist, that they’re crazy, and maybe they should stop by the nearest mental hospital for some help.
Failing that, a “prayer group” might be called together, where the religious elite telepathically harass/assault abductees (or other minority groups) for hours on end, inducing depression.
Members of the off-planet mafia are ultimately alerted about troublemakers. They can use their spy bots, telepathy bots, implant bots, and kill bots to deal with people that can’t be nicely quieted by ordinary footsoldiers.
Meanwhile, the off-planet mafia’s spy bots and telepathy bots would watch their telepathic foot-soldiers, and use the imperius curse to encourage their adherence to the cause. A few implant-induced nightmares about Saurians taking over the world in 2012 might help, as well as dream-messages from “God”.
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NON-TELEPATHIC FOOT-SOLDIERS Non-telepathic (and telepathic) foot-soldiers might also be tasked with:
Verbally and physically harassing appropriate minorities.
Using political power and complaining power to help ensure that appropriate minorities (such as abductees) are never taken seriously by the general public.
Applying for employment in key positions in society: As politicians, government civil servants, military, media, intelligence (such as the CIA and FBI), etc.
Voting as a bloc, as dictated by their leaders.
A deeply random thought I showed the following photograph to a number of friends and acquaintances in Darwin, Australia, as well as to friends and acquaintances in the US.
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In Australia, around 33% of the people believed the photograph. 33% looked at me funny. 33% said, “No, I don’t believe you. You’re pulling my leg”… even after I insisted the UFO was real. In the US, around 5% of the people believed the photograph. Most people responded with “You’re pulling my leg,” or “You must be mistaken, it’s obviously a speck of dust.” Or they didn’t respond to my E-mail at all. Apparently, in the US, UFOs are no longer weather balloons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_Incident) They’re specks of dust.
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EXTRADIMENSIONAL TECHNOLOGY (PART 2) “FLOATING” MATTER In “Extradimensional technology (Part 1)”, I described matter as coins on a tabletop (three-dimensional space). Lifting the “coins” (matter) allowed matter to pass through ordinary three-dimensional matter (sitting on the tabletop). What causes matter to exist in “ordinary three-dimensional space”? In the coins example, coins resting on the tabletop are in ordinary three-dimensional space. Therefore, gravity, or some other “force” encourages matter to rest on the tabletop instead of floating in mid-air.
LAYERS – MODEL A Instead of a tabletop, imagine a pitcher filled half way with vegetable oil, and the top half filled with water. Given the right density of plastic, some checkers pieces could be dropped into the water and end up floating at the water-oil boundary. From now on, the plastic checkers pieces represent matter, instead of coins, and the water-oil boundary replaces the tabletop. Thinking of extradimensional space like this shows that a vertical force is needed to lift the checkers up (into the water level), or lower the checkers down (into the oil level). When the vertical force is released, the checkers automatically float back to the water-oil boundary.
LAYERS – MODEL B Instead of filling the pitcher half with vegetable oil and half with water, fill the pitcher with one quarter mercury, one quarter with oil, one quarter with water, 1633 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and one quarter with isopropyl alcohol. All four liquids have different density and will form separate layers. Drop the previous checkers pieces in, and they will float at the water-oil boundary. Drop the coins in, and they will float at the oil-mercury boundary. Less-dense rubber discs might float at the alcohol-water boundary. A physics model like this implies that several different types of matter exists, but only one “density” of matter can remain stable at any boundary. If matter which is too “dense” or “un-dense” is created or moved into the boundary, then the improper-density matter quickly floats up or down to a different boundary.
LAYERS – MODEL C An alternative model of boundaries and layers is that the density of the “liquid” changes as a repeating sine curve from the bottom of the pitcher to the top. Such variations in density do not occur naturally in liquids, so you’ll have to use your imagination. The checkers pieces could float someplace near the bottom of the pitcher where the density of the liquid is half way between oil and water. Above that the liquid gradually gets less dense and then denser, returning to a checkers-floating density at mid-pitcher. Moving above that, the liquid once again becomes less dense, and then gradually becomes denser. Checkers float near the top of the pitcher. Similarly, coins and rubber discs might float at several different locations in the pitcher.
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MACH BANDS AROUND THE MOON Any of the models, A, B, or C, could explain extradimensional UFOs. However… In “Spotting a UFO”, I mentioned seeing mach bands (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mach_bands) around the moon when a UFO, or the “field” of a UFO, was in front of the moon. The mach bands could occur as light from the moon passes through several boundaries in model C, just as light would refract as the density of a material changes. I don’t know.
EXTRA-SPHERICAL EARTH? The Earth is a three-dimensional sphere. Is it completely flat in four-dimensional space? Or four-dimensionally spherical? Or a flattened four-dimensional sphere (called an ellipsoid)? If the earth is four-dimensionally spherical (or flattened four-dimensionally), are there mountains on the other boundaries? Could “cubes” (see above) be resting on those mountains? Does any life exist on those boundaries, made of a different density of matter? Under “layers model B”, we could NOT live on any boundaries but our own without cubes, but life composed of different matter might exist. If “layers model C” is true, then we can live on boundaries different than our own.
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EXTRA-EXTRA DIMENSIONS? If the universe has three ordinary dimensions and a fourth dimension with “density” layers, could the universe have five, six, or seven dimension? Perhaps some extra-extra dimensions are more like “layers model B” while others are more like “layers model C”.
EXTRADIMENSIONAL PLANETS If either “layers model B” or “layers model C” are correct, then extradimensional planets could exist in our solar system. They would be invisible to us. Could they be inhabited?
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HOW TO INFLUENCE INFLUENTIAL PEOPLE WITH UFO TECHNOLOGY Off-planet technology can be used to influence influential people (like politicians, corporate executives, military leaders, the very wealthy, and reporters): 1637 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Spy bots and brain implants – Spy on influential people to (a) know and counteract their plans, and (b) find their weak points to blackmail them.
Imperius curse (via brain implants) – Mould the opinions of influential people in subtle ways, such as turning UFO sceptics into UFO disbelievers.
Organized pressure groups – Religious groups are known for their activism and their ability to censor the media through complaints. (See above.)
Control the media – Influence media-moguls control the media. Influential people who watch that media are therefore controlled. Likewise, “organized pressure groups” are also controlled.
Bribes (and stock tips) – Money talks, but bribe money is illegal and easily traced. Spy bots and brain implants can be used to spy on corporate executives, and the insider information gained can be telepathically transmitted to friendly influential people, who then get wealthy from stock trades.
Off-planet perks – As mentioned above, some of the wealthiest people on Earth could be offered off-planet holidays. One “off-planet perk” could be an “escape plan” so the influential people can get off earth if they’re about to be prosecuted.
Live forever – If your brain can be transplanted into someone else, will you live forever?
Kill bots – Influential people are influenced by the “stick” of death (by heart attack or stroke), versus the “carrot” of eternal life.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Did “The Daily Prophet” ever admit that Voldemort had returned? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Daily_Prophet#The_Daily_Prophet)
!#@$ PERMA-CRAP NEWS HOW TO TAKE OVER A CORPORATION How to take over a corporation: Leverage.
Brute force: Purchase the entire corporation.
Less force: Purchase 51% of the voting shares.
Purchase 26% of the voting shares, assuming that only 50% of the shareholders vote.
Purchase 13% of the voting shares, and vote in a block.
Using N holding companies, purchase N x 1% of the voting shares... so noone knows who really owns the corporation.
Purchase 51% of the voting shares in a large mutual fund. Instruct the mutual fund managers how to vote on the companies owned by the mutual fund’s members.
Or,
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Repeat the “How to take over a corporation: Leverage” steps.
And,
Use the steps from, “How to influence influential people using UFO technology”.
HOW TO DUMB-DOWN A NATION’S NEWS A few well-organized wealthy people can “dumb down” a nation’s news by:
Convincing the government to allow news-outlet consolidation.
Taking over the three remaining news outlets using leverage. (See above.)
Claiming that more-sophisticated readers will find their news on the Internet, which they will. Unfortunately, the less-sophisticated news viewers who watch the dumbed-down news still vote and complain to politicians.
Save billions in legal fees by giving into organized protest groups and not showing controversial news items about tobacco causing cancer, Palestine, UFOs, etc.
Conversely, a well-organized group (such as organized religions) can protest and squelch a less well-organized group.
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WHY TO DUMB-DOWN A NATION’S NEWS Why would anyone want to dumb-down the news?
A dumbed-down news dumbs down the nation’s population.
A dumbed-down news is cheaper to produce.
A dumbed-down news supports politicians and political issues that are friendly to the few people who have taken over the news corporations using share-voting leverage. This might include: o
The abolition of the “death tax” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_tax#The_.22Death_Tax.22_ne ologism), which ultimately encourages an aristocracy.
o
Allowing news organizations to consolidate, making it easier for a small group to control the news.
o
A war to gain oil resources.
A deeply random thought In 1518, Hernan Cortes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hern%C3%A1n_Cort%C3%A9s) destroyed the Aztec Empire with 600 men, armed with high-tech weapons and armor.
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HOW TO CONTROL A DEMOCRACY IN TEN EASY STEPS
1.
Declare a permanent state of war, such as the war on terror, focusing the electorate’s concerns on Paris Hilton.
2.
Rig the vote, by controlling news organizations. (See “!#@$ perma-crap news”, above.)
3.
Rig the vote, by rigging electronic voting machines and/or using traditional hanging “chads”.
4.
Rig the politicians. (See “How to influence influential people”, above.)
5.
Keep the general public ill-informed about the rigging. (See “!#@$ permacrap news”, above.)
6.
Spy on the politicians, perhaps by low-ball bidding to out-source the government’s E-mail servers that are theoretically secure. He who controls the E-mail servers and porn lists controls the world. (Frank Herbert – A rephrased quote from dune.)
Backup plans: 1.
Use shareholder leverage to take over the nation’s military industrial complex. (See “How to take over a corporation.”)
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November 12, 2011 2. Privatize some of the nation’s military, particularly the high-tech extradimensional air force. 3.
In an emergency, set off a nuke (from the privately-held military-industrial complex) in the nation’s capitol building and blame terrorists.
4.
Find a way to take over the government using the private army. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julius_Caesar#Civil_war)
A deeply random thought Alien streaker: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIFMxgbDePY Laws broken: Public nudity Jaywalking Running in front of a moving vehicle (most likely a police car) Being an illegal alien
VOLDEMORT Harry Potter’s Voldemort (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voldemort) is :
A telepathic wizard who divided himself into seven parts in order to live forever. (See above.)
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He had a private army of wizards (the Death Eaters (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_eaters) ), with magic weapons and magic transportation (aerial and teleportation).
He controlled “The Daily Prophet”, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daily_Prophet#The_Daily_Prophet) preventing the wizarding world from believing in his return.
He controlled the wizarding government, by controlling “The Daily Prophet”, and using the imperius curse on politicians like Barty Crouch (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barty_Crouch_Senior#Barty_Crouch.2C_Sr).
The muggle governments were inconsequential because they (a) didn’t know of the existence of magic or Voldemort, and (b) couldn’t ever find the wizards, who hid in an invisible Diagon Alley in the middle of London (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagon_alley#Diagon_Alley), 12 Grimmauld Place (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grimmauld_place#Number_12.2C_Grimmauld _Place), Hogwarts (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hogwarts), Hogsmeade (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hogsmeade#Hogsmeade), etc.
J. K. Rowling never mentioned if Voldemort’s followers ever controlled the muggle government.
The general muggle population never-ever knew about magic or Voldemort.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Sturgeon’s Law: “90% of everything is crap.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sturgeon's_Law) Sturgeon’s Law Prime: “90% of all laws are crap.” Surgeon’s Law Prime-prime: “90% of all laws about laws are crap.” Surgeon’s Law Prime-prime-prime: “90% of all crappy laws about laws are crap.”
INSEMINATION BOTS Another potential use for extradimensional bots (also see “Invisible cameras” and “Weapon bots”) is the automated extraction of sperm and ovum, and implantation of fertilized eggs.
AUTOMATED INSEMINATI ON The basic process would be: 1.
An extradimensional bot flies into the home of a genetically-desirable man/woman while they’re sleeping, and extracts their sperm or ovum.
2.
On a UFO, the eggs are fertilized using the sperm.
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November 12, 2011 3. A fertilized egg is extradimensionally implanted in a woman’s womb while she is asleep.
Conversely:
Foetuses can be aborted by having the insemination bots inject abortion drugs.
RAMIFICATIONS
Artificial insemination to “breed” more-intelligent humans –Automated insemination could be used to breed more-intelligent or more-telepathic Homo sapiens sol. This seems unlikely with modern paternity tests showing an estimated nonpaternity match of 4% (http://purplemotes.net/2009/12/13/socialfundamentals), and a worst-case of 30% (http://abcnews.go.com/Health/Health/story?id=1202635&page=1) for men that ordered a paternity test. However, paternity tests have only been available for a couple decades in first-world countries. An artificial insemination program could have existed as recently as a few decades ago. It could still be happening in third-world countries where paternity tests are too expensive. More sophisticated technology could be used to select high-intelligence sperm and ovum from married couples. Having said that: James Flynn has noted an average IQ increase of around three points per decade. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flynn_effect)
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November 12, 2011 Cross-planet insemination from other Homo Sapiens Nordic colonies – Sperm and ovum from the most intelligent off-planet Homo sapiens could be used for artificial insemination, or vice versa.
Sale off-planet – To an off-planet Homo sapiens, how valuable would sperm and ovum be from a “Homo sapiens sol” in the top 99.9% of the population?
A deeply random thought This looks like a person (from another planet) wearing an encounter suit, entering and then quickly existing normal three-dimensional space. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdWrCTMuQ1M&feature=rec-HM-r2
EARTH – A PRISON PLANET? Prior to the American Revolution in 1776, one quarter of British emigrants to the American colonies were convicts. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penal_colony) Soon after the American Revolution, Britain colonized Australia and exported its convicts there. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convicts_in_Australia) This raises some questions: 1647 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Could high-tech off-planet “Homo sapiens” have deposited their convicts on Earth? Prior to the 1950’s, would any “Homo sapiens sol” believe them if they said, “I’m a prisoner from another planet.”
If implants are sentient, would killing (destroying) implants be considered “inhumane”? If so, could “criminal implants” be implanted into the heads of “Homo sapiens sol” as their prison and rehabilitation sentence?
If brain transplants are possible, then “Homo sapiens” bodies might be valuable. After all, a wealthy individual could purchase a brainless off-planet body and have their brain implanted in it. Could off-planet criminals have their brains extracted, and their brainless-body sold to the wealthy offplanet elite? Would that be a death sentence? Maybe the criminal’s brain would be implanted in the “lesser” body of a “Homo sapiens sol”, or even an animal?
A deeply random thought Let me look at your camera screen. Did my photograph come out? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrt41Ziz71c&feature=related
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EARTH – A SLAVE PLANET? Millions of people are reported missing every year. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missing_children) How many of them are abducted and taken off planet to be used as slaves? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/African_slave_trade) Or as sex slaves? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_slaves)
A deeply random thought This looks like someone from a non-“grey” race in an encounter suit. Notice how the leg is bent so it looks like the person is walking on tip-toe: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gTH_9qt7yY&feature=related
DISCLOSURE – DATA COLLECTION Corporations use market analysis, focus groups, and beta tests to design a product and then estimate how well it will sell. How might people (from other planets) collect data that will be used to fine-tune disclosure and predict how well it will work? 1649 | P a g e
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INTERRACIAL COMPATIBILITY TEST VILLAGE As a general rule, cats and dogs don’t get together well. Similarly, some races are more compatible with Homo sapiens than others. Abductees from Earth could be transported to off-planet test villages where they live along-side different races. Their interactions could be monitored and used to determine which races should be allowed to initially trade and interact with Homo sapiens sol, minimizing the chance of personality conflicts.
“THE GRAND TOUR” Similarly, some abductees could be taken for a “grand tour” around the galaxy to see how they interact with different races. Conversely, different races could be brought to Earth, invisibly flown around, and allowed to chat with Homo sapiens sol. Their reactions also help determine which races should first be allowed to interact with Homo sapiens sol.
ROSWELL (ACCIDENTAL), FOLLOWED BY RUSHED OFFICIAL CONTACT The Roswell crash (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_Incident) unintentionally provided more data about how Homo sapiens sol might interact with people (from other planets).
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November 12, 2011 The general lessons were:
Earth-based governments quickly hid the contact from the public.
Control of the relationship was handed over to the military.
The military’s interest in the relationship was to use people (form other planets) as a way to acquire military technology.
Interactions with people (from other planets) became increasingly compartmentalized and more-and-more “top secret”.
Ergo, don’t talk to the military. Be wary of “Homo sapiens sol” governments.
PROJECT SERPO According to Project Serpo (http://www.serpo.org), Homo sapiens sol (from the US military) were flown off-planet to interact with people in a village of one of the “grey” races. Undoubtedly, the US military’s choice of participants and their actions were analyzed.
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ABDUCTIONS AND VISIT ATIONS Abductions are conducted by people of different races; the abductors note how well the Homo sapiens sol abductees interact with the abductors, and whether abductees and abductors become friends, or even fall in love. Anti-UFO weaponry in some countries makes such data collection difficult.
PARTIAL TEST-DISCLOSURE ROLLOUTS On a per-capita basis, south/central America and Australia seem to have the highest number of UFO sightings. Perhaps these less-militarized continents are used as test cases to determine how Homo sapiens sol will react to disclosure?
OBSERVATION OF HOMO SAPIENS “IN THE WILD” Using invisible cameras and telepathy implants, researchers (from other planets) can gauge the intelligence of Homo sapiens sol, determining how well the general population might fare in an interstellar economy. Such data might be skewed by an off-planet mafia that provides implants for their foot-soldiers, just as telephone polling data is skewed by retirees willing to spend twenty minutes on a phone answering polling questions. Budget-conscious off-planet research organizations save money by staying home and watching “Survivor Earth” on their televisions.
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A deeply random thought According to the “prime directive” rules, UFOs are not supposed to appear over major cities with their lights on. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-viHA8j5rwQ No one said they couldn’t park themselves over Red Square though, and take advantage of the lighting below.
DISCLOSURE – SHOULD DISCLOSURE HAPPEN? Whether “disclosure” happens is not a foregone conclusion. Various metrics are used to determine if the time is right for “disclosure”:
The results from “Disclosure – Data collection” are taken into account.
Is Earth’s United Nations a real governing body, or just forum?
Are large-scale wars still taking place on Earth?
How unequal is the wealth distribution of Earth?
How do the wealthier nations on Earth treat their poorer cousins? Are poorer nations colonized by military or economic methods?
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November 12, 2011 Do nations with antigravity and extradimensional technologies use them for civilian (passenger aircraft) or military (fighter planes) purposes?
Are people (from other planets) able to communicate with members of Earth’s governments?
People (from other planets) watch television to determine how much the public knows about UFOs and “aliens”, based on “UFO” television and radio shows (watched by around 0.000001% of the population – hyperbole), and science fiction. This task has become more difficult as television signals are distributed over cable and encoded digitally.
The internet is particularly difficult to monitor due to the amount of data. For example: Alexa.com is useful for watching how many people view the forums of AboveTopSecret.com (http://www.alexa.com/siteinfo/abovetopsecret.com)
People (from other planets) frequently monitor Google Adwords, comparing the popularity of “UFO” vs. “Paris Hilton” searches (http://adwords.google.com)... This month (Feb 2010) is a tie. Interestingly, “UFO” is as popular as “Paris Hilton” on the internet, but Paris Hilton gets
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November 12, 2011 much more television news coverage than UFOs, perhaps 10x to 100x the number of minutes.
Ideally, disclosure should take place BEFORE the planet’s population nukes itself. (After disclosure, people will be able to purchase emergency escape pods that let them evacuate the planet in the event of a global thermonuclear war.)
Does the Earth have any products or services to sell to the interstellar community?
Do “Homo sapiens sol” people get “grey” humor?
Would Homo sapiens sol prefer living in a mono-racial society, and thus be left alone? (Aka: No disclosure.)
Would Homo sapiens sol prefer living in a 19th-century tech world to match their newly-built 19th century-style pastiche-architecture houses?
Some off-planet issues are also important:
Interstellar politics affect disclosure, just like Earth politics affects whether the UN helps Africans nations.
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November 12, 2011 “Survivor Earth” SMS votes from off-planet viewers are included in the mix; there’s no point disclosing if none of the “Survivor Earth” viewers like the reality show’s participants.
DISCLOSURE – HOW COULD IT NOT HAPPEN? Disclosure might not happen:
If too many “Blackhawk helicopters” are shot down then disclosure might be postponed.
Off-planet viewers of “Survivor Earth” might get bored with Earth, turn off their televisions, ratings would plummet, and Earth would be scheduled for demolition. ( http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153992/?tag=Reality+TV+show and http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153993)
Earth could be turned back into a test planet. The top 1% - 10% of intelligent people might be voluntarily taken off planet, leaving the rest of the planet undisclosed.
Earth’s technology level could be rolled back. It’s been done before.
“Every time an adult says, “I don’t believe in greys,” there’s a little grey somewhere that falls down dead.” – J. M. Barrie quote from Peter Pan, with modifications.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought I don’t dust my kitchen counters very often. I discovered the left-most handprint one morning. I added my handprint (to the right) for comparison.
I’m fairly certain that terrestrial wallabies didn’t break into my house to look at my vegetarian Indian cookbook.
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DISCLOSURE – HOW COULD DISCLOSURE HAPPEN? Disclosure won’t necessarily happen with a UFO landing in front of the White House:
A UFO might accidentally crash again.
A UFO might land at a military base… This was attempted in the 1950’s and didn’t seem to work, since the landings were made top secret.
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November 12, 2011 Jet-shaped UFOs could land at airports around the world and disembark; this would difficult in the US after the security put in place because of September 11.
People (from other planets) might appear in cities carrying briefcases, and walk around talking to people.
People (from other planets) might show up at the homes of “telepathy friends” and go for a drive.
Invisible “alien” cities scattered around Earth might turn their lights on and invite tourists in.
Unplanned disclosure might occur in the event of a major disaster where UFOs can help, or in the event of a significant assassination.
Some smaller disclosure steps could include:
Homo sapiens Nordics drive or bike to work on a daily basis. You’ll never notice that they’re “aliens” until they show you their holiday photos.
Science fiction (and fantasy) books, movies, and television shows are already part of disclosure. A creative person (from another planet), can provide creative “Homo sapiens sol” authors with materials to base a world or story off of.
UFOs might be seen more frequently: o
At night and during day. This appears to be happening in central and south America, and to a lesser extent, Australia.
o
UFOs fly over prominent landmarks.
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November 12, 2011 o
UFOs fly over presidential houses.
Abductions and home visits.
Goods from other worlds might start appearing in store shelves on Earth.
Homo sapiens sol might be taken off planet for holidays and allowed to return with photos and souvenirs.
UFOs appear on Google satellite maps.
Bored UFO pilots create “cloud monsters”, which are clouds shaped by UFOs.
UFO pilots try to get their flash UFOs on YouTube.
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November 12, 2011 Photogenic people (form other planets) try to get videos of themselves on YouTube. (9 out of 10 aliens don’t mind streaking.)
People (from other planets) use Homo sapiens sol as “avatars”; you never know if your friend is channeling a friendly Mantis.
Your brain-injured friend might have a partial Saurian brain transplant from a friendly Saurian.
People (from other planets) log onto “Second life”.
People (from other planets) form friendships with Homo sapiens sol using telepathy.
Telepathy friends with politicians.
Sentient brain implants strike up interesting conversations with the people they’re implanted in.
UFO beta testers in south/central America tell their north-American friends about the UFOs they’ve seen.
Free cosmetic surgery offered by skilled off-planet surgeons that make house calls.
People could be sent dreams of every-day life on other planets, such as personal helicopters, jumping planes, trains, Hooroohaloo, and Mars.
People (from other planets) could be hired for cameo roles in Earth-filmed movies.
A movie (from another planet) might be released on Earth via the internet.
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November 12, 2011 Halloween – People (from other planets) have pre-made costumes. Some appreciate the free candy. When tried before, no-one noticed. Nor did any off-planet trick-or-treaters find razor blades in their apples.
Genuine imported “alien” presents might be left under Christmas trees around the world.
People (from other planets) might appear in cities briefly at night.
(People formerly known as) “greys” could dematerialize at screenings of Steven Spielberg movies and hurl popcorn at the screen, particularly the end of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”.
This memo might be part of disclosure. You never know. E-mail this to your friends.
A deeply random thought Homo sapiens “Nordic” vs. “MIB” In reality, there are no “Homo sapiens Nordics” nor “Homo sapiens MIB”… I have been using the terms because the Nordics are mythologically considered to be “the good homo sapiens from off-planet” and the MIB “the bad homo sapiens from off-plant”. A few things to consider:
Not all “swarthy” Homo sapiens MIB from off-planet are “bad” and not all tall blond Homo sapiens from off-planet are “good”.
Many of the Homo sapiens from off-planet may have decided to work
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November 12, 2011 on Earth because they liked the Earth and/or the people on it.
Those people who initially came here for the money may have switched allegiances away from their off-planet mafia, to supporting democracies on Earth, at great risk to themselves and their families back on their home planets… which may be run by dictatorships.
Do not stereotype people based on what they look like or where they came from.
THE REALLY WEIRD STUFF To keep this document (relatively) short, I have split out some stranger memes elsewhere: http://www.disclosuree.com/TheReallyWierdStuff.pdf followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/TheNarrative.pdf followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory.pdf followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory2.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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November 12, 2011 HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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THE REALLY WEIRD STUFF
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 21 February 2010 Draft 2, 25 February 2010 Draft 3, 6 March 2010 Draft 4, 15 March 2010 Draft 5, 26 March 2010 Draft 6, 4 April 2010 Draft 6.1, 4 April 2010 Draft 7, 10 April 2010
Draft 8, 12 April 2010 Draft 9, 15 April 2010 Draft 10, 19 April 2010 Draft 11, 26 April 2010 Draft 12, 1 May 2010 Draft 13, 8 May 2010 Draft 14, 10 May 2010 Draft 15, 17 May 2010
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my article: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf
WARNING: The ideas presented in this document significantly diverge from 1665 | P a g e
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contemporary UFO mythology. You may wish to think of the rest of this document as “very WEIRD science fiction”.
HOW TO MAKE POLITICAL/BUSINESS/MILITARY PLANS IN A WORLD WHERE ANYONE CAN SPY ON YOU (PART 1) UFO technology changes the process of planning and making decisions because:
Anyone who makes “plans” (such as military or strategic plans) can be spied on visually or audibly using spy-bots.
Their thought processes can be spied on using brain implants.
They can be influenced by their brain implants.
Some ramifications:
Individuals (or groups) may be biased by the imperius curse. Be aware that an idea or plan may not “feel right” even though it is “empirically” right... and that an idea or plan that is “empirically” right doesn’t take the important element of “intuition” into account.
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November 12, 2011 If a single plan is being developed, assume that the plan is known by the “enemy”.
If several plans are being developed, assume that they’re all known by the “enemy”.
Create so many plans at once that the “enemy” can’t counteract all of the plans.
Be prepared to execute any single plan (or multiple plans) at any time.
Don’t plan on making plans too far in advance.
Make decisions about which plan will be executed at the last moment.
Be prepared to improvise.
Use varied communication channels, assuming that they are all watched and/or modified by the “enemy”.
Conceptually encode communications so that even if they’re decrypted, the “enemy” fully understand the communications.
The more encrypted or conceptually encoded a message appears, the more effort an “enemy” will put into decrypting it.
A pair of dice is always handy.
A deeply random thought If you gave your children 2” x 4” pieces of wood and let them create whatever 1667 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 they wanted in a woodworking shop, what would you do if they built themselves wooden swords and proceeded to bash each other up? How many years before you would provide them more wood?
EXTRA-DIMENSIONAL UNDERGROUND CITIES (AND VILLAGES) (PART 1) If the Earth is extradimensional, then:
Extradimensional mountains often exist in the same three-dimensional space as ordinary mountains, especially when tectonic-plate folding formed the mountains.
The extradimensional mountains may be slightly larger (taller) or smaller (shorter) than the ordinary-space mountains.
If an ordinary-space mountain has been mined out (perhaps millions of years ago), then extradimensional mountains may sometimes exist where ordinary-space mountains do not.
Extradimensional underground cities can be built in extradimensional mountains:
The “layer” of extradimensional space must be carefully chosen so that the city’s occupants won’t fall ill too quickly. Nauseousness and worse illnesses are a side-effect of an ordinary three-dimensional person living in an extradimensional space.
The rocks/soil are removed in a manner similar to creating underground bases (described previously).
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The walls must be sealed to minimize oxygen leakage. Extradimensional engines are sometimes included in the walls and rooms to minimize the illness-causing effects of extradimensional living.
If possible, cubes are placed on top of the mountain in a “counteracting” layer of extradimensional space, so that people working in the mountain city by day, can “decompress” in their condo cubes by night. Extradimensional elevators connect the workspace and condos. This is difficult to explain, except in terms of thermal temperature: People who work in thermally-hot workplaces like to visit thermally-cool escape rooms (showers or air-conditioning) once in awhile to cool off. If they stay in the thermally-cool escape rooms too long, they become too cold, and need to return to the thermally-hot workplace.
A UFO port is inevitably attached to the extradimensional city.
Several gateways (extradimensional elevators) will also be attached to the city, allowing residents to enter ordinary space when no “Homo sapiens sol” are around. The gateways may even be large enough to transport trucks to/from ordinary space.
Extradimensional underground cities are located all over the Earth. At the moment, they can only be “seen” by extradimensional vehicles travelling in a nearby “layer” of extradimensional space.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Consult your Yellow Pages for businesses providing tours of your local extradimensional underground city.
ENCOUNTER SUITS (PART 1) Encounter suits are like “dry suits” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dry_suit) that allow their wearers to safely enter extradimensional space for short periods of time.
These instructions are ONLY guidelines, and NOT intended to be a complete guide to encounter suits. Encounter suits are very DANGEROUS. Going near or interacting with people in encounter suits is at YOUR OWN RISK.
BASIC ENCOUNTER SUIT S Some notable features are:
Head-to-toe coverage, just like a “dry suit”.
The material is often grey in colour, but not always. They are made from a flexible polymer of metal atoms and atypical atoms (unusual baryons (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_baryons) and/or extradimensional matter).
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The suits include “extra-dense” shoe soles for walking, and hand pads for picking up objects. Thick buttock pads and back pads let the wearer sit down on steel or wood chairs in ordinary three-dimensional space.
Goggles built into the suit provide vision that is extradimensionally shifted. Telemetry is also displayed in the goggles. The combination of grey colour and bug-eyed goggles causes some races wearing encounter-suits to look like (people formerly known as) “greys” from a distance.
Oxygen tanks or generators are included, along with heating and/or cooling.
Weak extradimensional engines allow the wearer to move extradimensionally and, to a lesser extent, fly around three-dimensional space (particularly when the person is extradimensionally shifted, resulting in weaker gravity).
An optional headband allows the wearer’s head to be extradimensionally shifted.
Safety measures include self-healing skins (for small punctures) and automatically pushing the occupant out of ordinary three-dimensional space in the event of an emergency.
MOVING IN AN ENCOUNT ER SUIT Extradimensional suits let their wearers move through solid objects.
When someone in a suit is extradimensionally shifted, they are “melted”:
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November 12, 2011 o Gravity is weak, letting people fly without using much energy from their energy packs.
o
People can fly/float through low-density materials, such as wood and glass. As a general rule, basic encounter suits can only pass through thin steel.
o
You cannot see someone extradimensionally shifted in an encounter suit.
As soon as someone in an encounter suit “touches” a solid object (like a floor), they begin to “un-melt”. As the person un-melts, their suit and body extradimensionally shift towards normal three-dimensional space, while the object they touch extradimensionally shifts away from normal threedimensional space. As an analogy: Someone in an encounter suit is “hot”, while the floor is “cool”. When they touch the floor, people in encounter suits “cool off”, while the floor “heats up”.
As the encounter suit un-melts, the suit goes from invisible to transparent to opaque. Depending on the suit, the person’s skeleton is sometimes visible before their suit is. (This is a useful party trick for Halloween and haunted castles in Scotland.)
Whatever the encounter suit touches (such as the floor) starts to melt. The melting object first loses colour, becoming dark-grey, then becomes transparent, and eventually invisible and untouchable. Never touch a melted encounter suit or object.
Someone unmelting in an encounter suit must continue walking forward or the floor they are standing on will melt, and they may “freeze” to the floor... having their flesh partially embedded in the floor or object.
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November 12, 2011 Once the person is completely unmelted and is standing in ordinary threedimensional space, they must spend time “decompressing” before they unzip the encounter suit. The act of decompressing is often nauseating, so people who are decompressing prefer to sit or lean against a “dense” object, such as a steel chair (without padding).
SPOTTING PEOPLE IN ENCOUNTER SUITS Encounter suits can be spotted using the following methods:
If you walk through someone who is so extradimensionally shifted that they’re invisible, it may feel (a) unpleasant to painful, or (b) like you’re walking through a ghost.
People in encounter suits are semi-transparent while unmelting into ordinary three-dimensional space. Do NOT walk through someone that is semi-transparent and/or unmelting.
Looking through an extradimensionally-shifted encounter suits is similar to looking through a faint “heat shimmer”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heat_shimmer)
If you happen to have a wall of flyscreen, the “heat shimmer” is clearly visible against the flyscreen during the day.
ENCOUNTER SUIT SAFETY
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WARNINGS:
Always follow the telepathic instructions given by someone in an encounter suit. Rephrase and repeat all instructions using telepathy to ensure that there is no miscommunication.
Wearing an encounter suit is a claustrophic experience, particularly because of the limited visibility from the suit. The person in the encounter suit may be more afraid than you are.
Always keep away from someone wearing an encounter suit.
Make sure to keep pets away from people in encounter suits by locking them in a room.
Never touch, walk through, or walk into someone wearing an encounter suit.
Always carry a LED flashlight (not halogen) and shine it at your feet so people in encounter suits can more-easily see you. Never shine a light on someone wearing an encounter suit.
Always wear a white shirt so people in encounter suits can see you more easily.
Always wear thick-soled shoes when near people in encounter suits.
Never approach an encounter suit or you may being melting, which could lead to wooziness, illness, or even death.
Do NOT attack anyone in an encounter suit or throw anything into them.
Do NOT run away or walk quickly unless clearly and REPEATEDLY instructed. Always walk slowly with half steps. Do not panic.
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A deeply random thought Don’t take a walk in a lightning storm with a UFO hovering above you.
HOW TO ARRANGE YOUR FURNITURE FOR EASIER ENTRY BY PEOPLE WEARING ENCOUNTER SUITS (PART 1)
These instructions are ONLY guidelines, and NOT intended to be a complete guide. UFOs and encounter suits are very DANGEROUS. Going near or interacting with UFOs or people in encounter suits is at YOUR OWN RISK.
THE BASICS OF ENTERING A HOUSE USING A UFO AND AN ENCOUNTER SUIT For someone to enter a house using an encounter suit: 1.
A UFO hovers near the wall of the room where the person is to enter. The UFO is extradimensionally shifted and usually not visible. A low-pitched buzzing/hum may be heard.
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November 12, 2011 2. The UFO extradimensionally “melts” the wall and part of the room; it is not melted in the normal sense of “melt”. See below. 3.
The person in the encounter suit flies into the room through the melted wall.
4.
The UFO leaves and lets the wall and room “un-melt”.
5.
The person slowly walks across the floor and un-melts.
6.
People in encounter suits must stand or sit for several minutes to “decompress” into normal three-dimensional space. Since decompressing is often nauseating, people in encounter suits prefer to decompress while sitting and/or leaning against an object.
SELECTING A ROOM WHERE THE UFO ENTERS For someone to enter a house using an encounter suit, a UFO (usually) extradimensionally “melts” an entry wall and part of the room. The external wall doesn’t melt in an ordinary physical sense. Instead, it is pushed out of ordinary three-dimensional space. The external wall (and room) where the UFO enters should generally be:
On the top floor. Extradimensionally melting a wall weakens the structure slightly while the wall is melted. Walls on the top floor must bear less weight.
The external wall (and room) should be as far away from the home’s occupants (humans and pets) as possible. Being melted is not a pleasant sensation.
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The external wall (and room) should be as far away from your neighbours as possible, unless you don’t like them very much.
Wood and sheetrock entry walls are best. They should contain very little metal, such as copper water pipes. Large glass windows and doors work. Walls with steel framing require more melting of the room. Melting stone and/or brick walls isn’t recommended. o
WARNING: Stone and/or brick walls might collapse when melted. Your homeowner’s insurance may not cover this.
o
WARNING: Wood structures may catch fire when melted. Your homeowner’s insurance may not cover this either.
The room’s floor should not be carpeted or have any rugs.
The room’s floor should be made of hardwood (not the fake stuff), concrete, very flat tiles, or flat steel.
“MELTING” SAFETY
Always obey the telepathic instructions of the person in the encounter suit of the UFO pilot. Make sure to repeat instructions in your own telepathic sentences to verify that you understood them.
Never go near a wall or room that is melted. You could become nauseous, fall unconscious, be injured, or die.
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November 12, 2011 To un-melt yourself, slowly walk away from the unmelted portion of the building. You might run in an emergency, but could become nauseous, fall unconscious, be injured, or die if you move too quickly. The signs of moving too quickly are:
Feeling nauseous.
The ground feels slippery. Always wear thick-soled shoes when walking on a melted surface or you may lose the soles of your feet.
Your surroundings lose colour and become semi-transparent.
You find it difficult to breathe.
You fall unconscious and die.
Touching a “grounded” metal or stone object may quickly un-melt yourself. Quickly unmelting yourself can cause you to become nauseous, fall unconscious, be injured, or cause death.
ARRANGING THE ROOM FOR THE SAFETY OF THE PERSON WEARING THE ENCOUNTER SUIT To arrange a room where people in encounter suits can enter:
Always consult your local UFO pilot and encounter-suit specialist about specifics.
The room’s floor should be hardwood (not the fake hardwood), very smooth tile, concrete, or steel.
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Make sure the room isn’t carpeted and doesn’t have any rugs.
All toys and floor clutter should be cleaned up.
Move furniture away from the entry wall, and away from the centre of the room.
A clear un-melting pathway should exist in the room. (See “Encounter suits (part 1)”).
At the end of the un-melting pathway, you should have one of the following, depending on what your local UFO pilot and encounter-suit specialist recommends:
o
An unpadded hardwood chair that the person in the encounter suit can sit in. Softwood doesn’t work well.
o
An unpadded (folding) steel chair that someone can sit in. Unfortunately, these are difficult to purchase nowadays because plastic resin chairs are ubiquitous; plastic resin chairs do NOT work.
o
A 1200 x 1200 x 3 mm piece of steel on the floor at the end of the pathway will let someone un-melt quickly. You should have a thick bar of steel at hand height for them to lean on while decompressing just in case they become nauseous. You could rest the steel on a hardwood table. A heavy steel (not aluminium) step-ladder might work in a pinch.
o
A 2100 x 1200 x 5 mm piece of steel on the floor will let someone un-melting in an encounter suit lie down on the floor.
Make sure all lights are turned off.
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November 12, 2011 Do NOT photograph or shine a flashlight on the person in the encounter suit. The light is very unpleasant to people in encounter suits.
Make sure door is closed (or entry barred) so you, your family, your house gusts, your children, and your pets cannot easily enter the room.
You SHOULDN’T have any weapons in your house, especially guns.
WHAT TO DO WHEN PEOPLE (FROM OTHER PLANETS) VISIT YOUR HOUSE
Having a UFO drop someone off in an encounter suit is very dangerous. Only do so at your own risk.
When someone enters your house with an encounter suit:
Always wear thick-soled shoes; if you walk on a melted or un-melting floor, it is better to lose a few millimetres off the soles of your shoes then a few millimetres of your skin.
Always wear white shirts; people in encounter suits can see you more easily when you wear them.
Always carry a LED (not halogen) flashlight, shining down at your feet. This makes is easier for people in encounter suits to see you. Never shine it at them.
Obey the telepathic instructions of the UFO pilot and/or person in the encounter suit. Repeat all instructions in different telepathic sentences to ensure that there is no miscommunication.
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Make sure your family, children, houseguests, pets, and yourself are in a room as far away from the entry wall as possible. Preferably, you should be alone.
Make sure your children (etc.) stay far away from the entry room and cannot enter it.
Stay in your room while melting, entry, unmelting, and decompression are taking place... unless specifically asked to leave your room.
Be prepared to lie down on your floor to minimize the effects of melting on yourself.
You (and your house’s occupants, and any unruly neighbours) may be knocked unconscious (via a medical bot or other technique) to ensure you don’t interrupt the process.
Be prepared to quickly/rapidly exit your room in a direction away from the UFO and entry wall.
Be prepared to be spied on by unfriendly spy-bots and potentially attacked by kill-bots. UFO activity often attracts unwanted “guests”.
Every house is different. Expect the UFO pilot and people wearing encounter suits to perform many test runs before they successfully un-melt, decompress, and unzip their suits.
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November 12, 2011 Entering a house by using a UFO to melt an entry wall so people can enter using encounter suits is about as safe as hovering a helicopter over a house and having people repel through the skylights. The people who produce “gateways” wish to point out that their products are much safer.
A deeply random thought Quick-quotes quill (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_objects_in_Harry_Potter) A Quick Quotes Quill is a stenographic tool employed by Rita Skeeter to spin the words of her subjects into a more salacious or melodramatic form more to her liking. Rita uses the quill to interview Harry about his participation in the Triwizard Tournament in Goblet of Fire for her column in the newspaper, The Daily Prophet. Harry continually tries to correct the inaccuracy of the quill to Rita. However, she rudely ignores him. Additionally in Deathly Hallows, Rita mentions in her interview concerning Dumbledore's posthumous biography that the Quick Quotes Quill helped her to write the book so quickly after his death.
OFF-PLANET PRESS
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November 12, 2011 Every society has its own press. The off-planet press uses special bots to remotely fly around the Earth and interview people by asking questions telepathically. The bots wield several different cameras, as well as implant capability so “spy implants” can be placed in interviewees’ heads. Press-bots can be used to conduct “subconscious” interviews, where simple telepathic questions are asked to the interviewee’s “quiet” telepathy. When interviewed subconsciously, you’ll notice your mind wandering over various subjects related to the interview, but you won’t actually perceive the questions. See also, legilimency (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_in_Harry_Potter). Some unique aspects of the off-planet press are:
Thanks to telepathy, it is very difficult to lie to the interviewer.
An article needs to be translated into a few Eigen-languages, and then automatically translated into the thousands of languages used throughout the galaxy.
Third-eye news broadcasts are transmitted to subscribers. They “hear” the text of the article telepathically, and “see” it with their third eye (which is also used to look through invisible spy cameras).
A deeply random thought Twinking (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twinking) 1683 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 In computer role-playing games and MMORPGs, twinking refers to outfitting a new character or player with items or other resources that are not normally available to new or low-level characters. A twink in this usage is a type of powergamer and munchkin. The term can also refer to the twinked character itself (e.g., "My twink has all the best gear.") In its most basic definition, a twink is a character with better gear than they could have easily gotten on their own. Twinking is typically done by transferring higher-end equipment from the player's (or his friend's) more experienced characters (who often have excess gear that would be much more useful to the lower-level character). It can also be done by equipping the character with the best possible gear for his level range, and filling them with end-game enchantments. Many new players dislike twinking of other's characters, since it gives a major advantage to established players starting a new character. Some new players do not like to have their own characters twinked, as they prefer to earn the equipment for themselves.
THE “TWINKING” OF EARTH “Twinking” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twinking) is a term invented by players of Massively Multiplayer Online Role-playing Games to describe what happens when a high-level character gives high-level (advanced) technology to low-level characters. The process of “disclosure” inevitably leads to the introduction of new technologies into a society. The level of new technology introduced by disclosure depends on offplanet politics (as well as how Earth governments and populations react to “aliens”).
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November 12, 2011 Earth’s new “level” after twinking Twinked down to level 8
Technology effect Earth’s technology could be rolled back to the 19th century.
Stay at level 10
People (from other planets) stop by to say “Hello” but don’t help us with our technology.
Twinked up to level 15
Earth-based companies are allowed to purchase extradimensional engines to be used in commercial aircraft.
Twinked up to level 20
Advanced medical technology can be purchased by Earth medical institutions, as well as the introduction of personal aerial/extradimensional transport.
Twinked up to level 25
Off-planet holidays for Earth’s middle-class are common. Etcetera.
In other words, if disclosure happens, Homo sapiens sol may become a “twinked” race. Unfortunately, this leads to problems: If half of Earth’s population can’t handle credit cards (a level 9 technology), then how will they cope with the sudden introduction of personal aerial/extradimensional transport (a level 20 technology)?
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Pen-bot – A small extradimensional UAV that abducts people’s ball-point pens and redistributes them to low-tech planets who are still using fountain pens. The existence of pen-bots explains one of the great mysteries of life. Now, we only need to figure out what the “head nacho” is.
HOW TO CONTROL THE INTERNET IN TEN EASY STEPS IT’S EASY Most people do not understand how easy it is to impede and/or control information flow on the Internet: 1.
E-mail servers (auto-forward) – It is trivial to have E-mail servers automatically forward all E-mail to an off-site server. How tempting would it be for a spy-agency to produce a shell company, low-bid an out-sourced E-mail service for a government or important corporation, and spy on all of the government’s/company’s E-mails?
2.
E-mail servers (communal mail storage) – Many governments and corporations store all of their employees’ E-mails on a “master server” instead of their employee’s computers. In general, this is more convenient for both the employees and government/corporation.
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November 12, 2011 Someone with a “master password” could read, delete, or change E-mails without people in the government or corporation noticing... not to mention forwarding the E-mail on, as mentioned above. 3.
E-mail routers – E-mail is sometimes routed through a few different E-mail servers (using SMTP, for example). Any E-mail server in the routing chain could decide to “drop” the E-mail and prevent it from being received.
4.
E-mail encrypting – E-mail is encrypted so that only the intended recipient can read it. Despite encryption, all E-mails can be decrypted, but it might take thousands of years of computation time to decrypt a single E-mail. The NSA might have supercomputers fast enough to decrypt E-mails. Likewise, high-tech “crystals” from off-planet might be able to do the same... which means an off-planet mafia could easily read E-mails to/from government officials and important corporations.
5.
Assistants – Many government and corporate executives have assistants (formerly called secretaries) who manage their schedules and E-mails; assistants could easily read, modify, or delete their E-mails.
6.
Porn lists – Porn lists (and spam filters) can be used to prevent people from reading “pornographic” web pages. Who controls the porn lists? How many “pornographic” web sites are actually political in nature?
7.
Routers – All information transmitted over the internet travels through several “routers” to get to the destination. Information could intentionally be “damaged” at a router, blocking E-mail, as well as causing web pages to become inaccessible.
8.
Fibre into and out of the US (or other countries) – The US (via the NSA), as well as other countries like China, monitors and (potentially) controls internet information entering and leaving the country.
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November 12, 2011 9. Undersea and underground fibre – A high-tech off-planet organization could use extradimensional UFOs to fly underwater or underground, quickly cut the fibre, and place “listening stations” to monitor and control internet traffic.
WHO WOULD WANT TO CONTROL THE INTERNET? Who would want to control the internet?
Numerous Earth-based organizations (nations and corporations)
People (from other planets) who do NOT want disclosure to happen, such as an off-planet mafia.
People (from other planets) who WANT disclosure to happen, but in a controlled manner.
A deeply random thought “Maybe, maybe not” is a commonly-used telepathy phrase. It appears in the game, “Mass Effect 2”.
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BODY WARPING FIELDS (PART 1) An advanced technology that some people (from other planets) use are body warping fields. These fields “stretch” space around specific body parts to change someone’s appearance. They can’t alter small details, but they can make someone look taller or shorter, or flatten their face so they look more like a Homo sapiens; the person may also need to shave off their fur and apply makeup. Such changes work in the dark of night, or when abductees are drugged. They are unconvincing under closer scrutiny.
A deeply random thought Telepathic conversations that you have today may be from today, tomorrow, yesterday, or never.
OTHER INVISIBLE CITI ES (AND VILLAGES) ALTERNATIVES TO DAMP UNDERGROUND CITIES (AND VILLAGES) Invisible cities on Earth aren’t limited to just underground cities: 1689 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Cubes – A city of “cubes” can exist in sparsely-populated areas without many trees. Hills and mountains are preferred.
Underwater cities
Extradimensional space stations
Cities on the moon and other planets
UFO HIGHWAYS UFO “highways” (like the Jetsons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Jetsons) connect the invisible cities, both over land and across Earth’s oceans. Speed limits are strictly enforced.
WHO OCCUPIES THESE CITIES People (from other planets) that look like Homo sapiens sol (such as Homo sapiens Nordics), can live in cities such as New York City without being spotted. People that don’t look like Homo sapiens must live in one of the many invisible cities.
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REASONS FOR INVISIBLE CITIES Earth-based invisible cities (and villages) have varied economies:
People travelling between star systems and tourists rent hotel rooms.
Researchers (such as abductors) and people working on disclosure rent temporary accommodation.
Some people live permanently in the cities. For example: Shark-evolved people enjoy living in their spacious underwater cities, often fitted out with a salt-water spa in every condo. Some Australian aboriginal rock-art bears a striking resemblance to (people formerly known as) “greys” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wondjina), who many have lived in Australia for hundreds of thousands of years.
Trade is important for the economies of invisible cities. Unfortunately, much of the trade is derived from illegally “shoplifted” goods and resources from the Earth.
UFO repair-centres as well as other stores (supermarkets, dentists, fastfood restaurants, and gift shops) are important to any invisible city/village. Particularly popular are T-shirts imprinted with “My sister visited Earth and all I got was this stupid T-shirt.”
Many of the cities act as defence-bases to protect Earth from pirates and other criminals.
Etcetera
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A randomly deep thought Commuter shuttles regularly fly between invisible cities. The commuter craft are either traditional UFOs (circular or triangular) that fly extradimensionally and are invisible to Homo sapiens. Or, jet-plane shaped UFOs are flown between cities by day; from a distance they look like terrestrial jet aircraft.
RACES AND META-RACES (PART 2) Many races and racial groups (meta-races) exist:
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Evolved from Arthropods
Some races and/or meta-races Centipedes, crabs, insects, mantis, spiders, stick insects, etc.
Carbon-free lifeforms Crocodiles
Various meta-races.
Dinosaurs
Saurians (egg layers and marsupials), flying (distantly related to archaeopteryx), cat-like, horse-like, primate-like, etc.
Frogs
Various meta-races.
Arboreal (primate-like) and ground-evolved.
November 12, 2011 Geckos
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Various meta-races.
(People formerly known as) “greys”
Anasazi, Anglasi, Annunaki, Angma, etc.
Lizards
Frilled-necked lizards, goannas, etc.
Marsupial mammals
Gliders, macropods, possums, thylacines, thylacoleo (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thylacoleo), quolls (including flying quolls)
Placental mammals
Antelope, apes, bears, bovines, cats (sabre-tooth tigers, cougars, lions, tigers, cheetahs), canines, coati, elk, Elotians, ferrets, guenon, hares, horses, lemurs, mice, monkeys, racoons, rats, rabbits, tamarins, etc.
Sea urchins
Hooroohaloo, etc.
Sharks and rays
Various meta-races.
Etcetera
Various meta-races.
November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Personally, my experiences with “aliens” has been more like Farscape than Babylon 5 or Star Trek. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Farscape, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_trek)
65 MILLION YEARS AGO THE INTENTIONAL DESTRUCTION OF LIFE ON E ARTH? Dinosaurs went extinct on earth 65 million years ago. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KT_extinction) The current theory is that a large meteor impacted the Earth just north of where the Yucatan peninsula currently resides. As a result of this impact, the dinosaurs went extinct BUT mammals, birds, and other species survived. Some interesting observations are:
The impact crater for the extinction is circular, not an elliptical. This implies that the meteor hit the Earth perpendicular to the surface. What is the probability of a perpendicular strike on the Earth? Around 10%-20%.
A rare earth element, iridium, is distributed in a thin layer around the Earth, coincident with the impact.
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A deeply random thought http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iridium K–T boundary presence The K–T boundary of 65 million years ago, marking the temporal border between the Cretaceous and Tertiary periods of geological time, was identified by a thin stratum of iridium-rich clay.[40] A team led by Luis Alvarez proposed in 1980 an extraterrestrial origin for this iridium, attributing it to an asteroid or comet impact.[40] Their theory, known as the Alvarez hypothesis, is now widely accepted to explain the demise of the dinosaurs. A large buried impact crater structure with an estimated age of about 65 million years was later identified under what is now the Yucatán Peninsula (the Chicxulub crater).[41][42] Dewey M. McLean and others argue that the iridium may have been of volcanic origin instead, as the Earth's core is rich in iridium, and active volcanoes such as Piton de la Fournaise, in the island of Réunion, are still releasing iridium.[43][44]
Iridium is a metal that might be useful in the construction of advancedtechnology buildings. (This is speculation.)
All of the dinosaurs went extinct, even the small ones. What is the probability that no dinosaur species survived the impact?
Here is a hypothetical scenario to consider: 1.
2.
65 million years ago, a large meteor was directed towards the Earth with enough accuracy that it impacted perpendicular to ground.
The impact site may have contained a colony city (or cities), with buildings constructed using an iridium alloy. This could explain the iridium layer. 1695 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 3.
One or more of the following occurred: a.
Dinosaurs were intentionally rendered extinct – The asteroid impact destroyed most life on Earth. Any remaining dinosaurs were exterminated using biological agents (viruses), chemical agents, or by hunting them down.
b.
All life was rendered extinct – The impact was so catastrophic that all sizable flora and fauna were rendered extinct. After the atmosphere recovered, flora and fauna was transplanted from other planets back onto earth. Dinosaurs were intentionally NOT returned to Earth.
WEALTH CREATOR? 1.
According to current theory, Earth’s core is highly-pressurized molten metal, mostly iron. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Structure_of_the_Earth#Core)
2.
Logically, denser metals (aka: heavy metals like uranium) should fall towards the centre of the Earth over hundreds of millions of years. If this is the case, one and two-continent planets should have very few dense metals present on their surfaces.
3.
A large meteor impact could dislodge dense metals from the core and redistribute them on or near the surface of the Earth.
4.
Such easily-accessible dense metals (including iron) would make Earth valuable as a resource centre.
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November 12, 2011 5. Additionally, asteroid impacts encourage plate tectonics, which form mountains, preventing the centers of continents from becoming flat, lifeless, and infertile deserts like Australia’s interior.
In other words, because a large meteor impacted Earth 65 million years ago, Earth is now a valuable planet.
A deeply random thought At the end of Babylon 5, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5) viewers learn that the Vorlons (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vorlon) and Shadows (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_(Babylon_5) ) are working together to “evolve” the younger races. Their differences are philosophical: The Vorlons believe in evolution and growth by nurturing, while the Shadows believe in evolution and growth by conflict. The television series didn’t descibe the full extent of their philosophies:
Conflict is intentionally damped since it, unfortunately, arises naturally. Some elder-elder races dampen/discourage conflict more than others.
A person, nation, or race is best understood when tested under booth ideal conditions (nurture) and disaster (conflict).
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November 12, 2011
EARTH’S LOCATION IN THE GALAXY (PART 1) Earth is located in the Orion Spur/arm: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Local_Spur)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:236084main_MilkyWay-full-annotated.jpg
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November 12, 2011 Earth is located near the centre of the Orion spur/arm:
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6f/Nearest_Nebulae_and_Star_ clusters.gif
Oh, and don’t forget, Earth is a valuable planet because of its resources, multiple continents, and mountains... and made more valuable by being in the centre of the Orion spur.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Viagra-saur
(tm)
, Viagra-saur for women
(tm)
INTELLIGENCE/TELEPATHY POGROMS Dictatorships sometimes carry out pogroms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pogrom) Pogroms are the mass-murder of specific segments of a nation’s population. Pogroms are often targeted at (a) intellectuals, (b) dissidents, and (c) telepaths who can resist the imperius curse. What are the advantages of pogroms to dictatorships?
Intellectuals possess the intelligence required to “outsmart” the intelligent people running a dictatorship.
Dissidents have the will to rebel and cause problems for dictatorships.
Telepaths who can resist the imperius curse cannot be easily controlled by implants.
Eventually, such pogroms weaken the genetics and culture of the population. If the dictatorship’s government is selected from the nation’s population, this leads to the 1700 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 eventual mental decline of the government, and its collapse. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pol_pot) However, if the government is run from outside of the population (such as from an off-planet mafia), then a servile, unintelligent, and imperius-curse-pliable population is easy to control.
A deeply random thought (Tasmanian-tiger-evolved and Thylacoleo-evolved) nachos Salsa o o o o o
1 avocado, diced 1 lime, juice mixed in with avocado 1 tomato, diced 1 chili, diced Cilantro to taste
Corn chips o Cover the plate with corn tortilla chips o Grated quality cheddar-cheese, covering the tortilla chips – Double or triple the amount of cheese for Tasmanian-tiger-evolved or Thylacoleo-evolved people. o Microwave for 30 seconds. o Spread salsa on top o 1 tablespoon of ground pepper “lightly” sprinkled on top of salsa… if you are Tasmanian-tiger-evolved or Thylacoleo-evolved.
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November 12, 2011
BODY WARPING FIELDS (PART 2) Slightly different body-warping fields can be used to permanently alter someone’s skeleton over the course of weeks to months:
Teeth straightening – Sorry, but Earth-based dentistry, like Steve Martin’s in Little Shop of Horrors (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Shop_of_Horrors_(film) ), will (hopefully) be a thing of the past.
Bone lengthening, shortening, and straightening – Fields can be used to alter someone’s skeleton.
Cosmetic surgery – Fields can be used to alter someone’s skeleton so much that they no longer look like their former selves, or even their own race.
A deeply random thought On other planets, a toothbrush is bundled with each tube of toothpaste and sold as “Brush-with-this(tm)”.
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November 12, 2011
HOMO SAPIENS ALIENII EXTRADIMENSIONAL HUMAN BODIES Just like planets, cells are thinly extradimensional and people’s bodies are thinly extradimensional. Bodies aren’t just one-cell thick in three dimensions. Bodies are several cells “thick”, in an extradimensional sense.
“PAINTING ON” STEM-CELLS EXTRADIMENSIONALLY Cancers (and other illnesses) can be repaired at a cellular level by: 1.
Locating and extracting stem-cells from someone’s body.
2.
Replicating them into a thick “paint”.
3.
Using extradimensional tools to “paint” the stem cells onto one extradimensional “side” of someone’s body.
4.
The stem-cells take “direction” from their neighboring and pre-existing differentiated cells. Differentiation-encouraging chemicals are sometimes employed.
5.
Extradimensional tools (and/or natural changes) are employed to kill off a layer of cells on the other extradimensional “side” of the patient’s body.
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November 12, 2011
RESISTANCE TO DISEASES AND POISONS More technologically-advanced societies can genetically modify the DNA of the cells that are painted on: 1.
The person’s original DNA is isolated from their stem cells.
2.
Their DNA is modified, perhaps including genomes for diseases and poison resistance. Prankster geneticians may also include the glow-in-the-dark gene (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bioluminescence) so their patients are more identifiable at black-light parties.
3.
Similarly, faulty genes can be removed.
4.
The “paint on” process proceeds as above.
“COSMETIC SURGERY” “Cosmetic surgery” can also be accomplished by “painting on” stem cells: 1.
The person’s original DNA is isolated from their stem cells.
2.
Target DNA, such as that from a donkey is isolated.
3.
Approximately 1% of the target DNA is used to overwrite the equivalent nucleotides in the person’s original DNA.
4.
The stem-cell with 1% modified DNA is cloned and extradimensionally “painted on” the patient, as above.
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November 12, 2011 5. Repeat, gradually replacing the person’s original DNA with modified DNA until 100% (or less) of the target DNA is incorporated. 6.
Include skeletal modification using body-warping fields (as above) to turn someone into a donkey, or at least a humanoid donkey. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Midsummer_Night%27s_Dream)
7.
Tails require additional surgery.
8.
Gender changes are optional.
LOOKING (AND SMELLING) LIKE A “YOUNGER” RACE Over months to years, a combination of body-warping fields and paint-on stem-cells can be used to:
Transform someone from one sub-race to another, such as Caucasian to African.
Transform someone to a related race, such as Homo sapiens to Pan troglodytes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimpanzee).
Therefore, the following races could walk amongst us unnoticed:
Homo sapiens from other planets.
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November 12, 2011 At night, we wouldn’t notice races that look like Homo sapiens when enough makeup and temporary body-warping fields are applied.
Individuals from genetically-similar races that wish to permanently look like Homo sapiens could walk amongst us unnoticed.
A deeply random thought (Thylacoleo-evolved) omelet o o
2 eggs, scrambled 1 tablespoon milk added to eggs
1. 2.
Heat the frying pan. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in the frying pan, or 4-8 tablespoons of butter for Thylacoleo-evolved people. Cook omelet, as usual.
3.
THE IDEAL SLAVES FOR OFF-PLANET HOMO SAPIENS AFRICAN SLAVERY IN 1850’S AMERICA In 1850’s southern America, Africans were used as slaves by wealthy white landholders. 1706 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 In the eyes of the wealthy white landholders, African slaves had the following problems:
They looked similar to “humans”... causing some overly-moral people to claim that they were in fact, human, and deserved human rights.
Even from the slave-owners’ perspective, Africans looked too “human” and could not morally be treated like the “livestock” (chattel) they were.
Slavers’ wives objected to their husbands “breeding” with the slaves.
Half-breed slaves provided further moral dilemmas. After a few generations they would be bred so “white” they would be indistinguishable from their masters, making it difficult to keep them enslaved.
Due to their grasping hands, Africans were capable of wielding the same weapons that their white masters used.
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November 12, 2011
“ANIMAL”-EVOLVED RACES ARE IDEAL SLAVES Fast-forward to other planets and some off-planet Homo Sapiens with advanced technology. What would the “ideal” slave race be?
The race should NOT look anything like Homo Sapiens. This minimizes the chance of anyone being morally confused and believing that members of the race were anything but semi-intelligent animals.
Preferably, the race should look like livestock: horses, cows, sheep, pigs, and/or geese. Fur is an obvious demarcation of a race being an “animal”. Homo sapiens are used to treating livestock as property. Therefore, races that look like livestock are quickly assumed to be property.
The race should be less intelligent than their Homo Sapiens masters. As with African slaves, lack of an education helps reduce IQ.
The race should be capable of speaking only a few words of a Homo Sapiens language, and should never be fluent in the language. Since most “animal” races don’t have the vocal-cords, tongue, and mouth flexibility of Homo Sapiens, they can never speak Homo-Sapiens languages well.
The race should be humanoid (standing upright with hands) so they can use tools. The race’s hands should be incapable of grasping dangerous weapons, particularly pellet guns.
The race should be docile and unlikely to produce “uppity” individuals who might rebel. Herbivorous races work well. Some races, particularly those evolved from carnivores, are more likely to fight back.
Herbivorous races require no meat, so they’re cheaper to feed.
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November 12, 2011 Races that don’t naturally self-organize into large groups (a high Dunbar number) are less likely to self-organize into rebellions.
Races that are easily controlled by implants and the “imperius curse” are desirable.
To prevent organization, wealthy masters keep slaves from a variety of races. Since all the races speak different languages and are incapable of speaking each-others’ languages, they cannot easily self-organize. Most slaves have implants, but the implants can be censored and monitored to prevent individuals from communicating with one another.
The use of a variety of races on an estate prevents females from breeding.
The race should not look “pornographic” to Homo Sapiens when unclothed. With Homo Sapiens, clothing is symbolic of (a) being above an animal, and (b) social status.
From the wives’ perspective, the race should be sexually unappealing to their husbands. Obviously, the “animal” races cannot bear the children of Homo Sapiens.
If an individual of an “animal” race needs to be “culled”, the skin of furred races can be used for lamp-shades, and leather goods, such as seamless leather jackets.
Animal-races with low odour levels are preferred for domestic servants.
Many individuals from races who would not normally have breasts opt for breast “implants” because their survival-rate is better.
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO ENSLAVE A PLANET OF “ANIMAL”-EVOLVED PEOPLE Enslaving a race of “animal”-evolved people can be accomplished using the following steps: 1.
Locate an incubator planet with an “animal” race. As per the 20,000-year plan, incubator planets are common, especially near Earth.
2.
The race is intelligent enough for enslavement if they are primitive toolusers (like Africans were in the 1700’s), but don’t yet possess firearms and/or machinery.
3.
Watch the planet for a few years to make sure the race doesn’t have a “protector” race/organization. Surveillance can be accomplished by allowing some risk-taking Homo Sapiens to settle on the planet, amidst and AGAINST the primitive race. (As per Jamestown and Plymouth in the American colonies. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamestown_Settlement, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plymouth,_Massachusetts)
4.
Use spy-bots to watch individual members of the race and create Stasi-like files on them. The files on most individuals are limited to, “Mostly harmless. Might work well as a maid.”
5.
Run a pogrom, using kill-bots. Kill off the race’s intellectuals, agitators, landholders, leaders, and individuals who can resist the imperius curse.
6.
Find some way of training members of the race the skills they will need as slaves, perhaps by introducing (religious) schools.
7.
Abduct desirable members of the race (such as potential servants) and transport them to the Homo Sapiens’ planet.
8.
Encourage more Homo Sapiens settlers to move onto the planet.
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November 12, 2011 9.
Hire quiescent members of the “animal” race in local industry. In Australia, Aborigines were hired to work on large cattle stations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cattle_station)
10. Use the spy-bots, Stasi-like files, and kill-bots to deal with individuals who might become agitators or cause a rebellion. Ideally, hire individuals of the race to spy on their own kind. 11. If a rebellion occurs, use pellet guns, armoured vehicles, and military aircraft to quell the rebellion. Don’t forget: Low-tech incubator races without guns and machinery are targeted, so quashing a rebellion is easy.
A deeply random thought Would you trust the Serbs to be peacekeepers in Bosnia? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bosnia_war)
RUSTY UFOS AND GRASS SKIRTS When people from one race first land their UFOs on a planet inhabited by another race, they sometimes intentionally land in old, rusty UFOs, wearing “grass skirts”. Why?
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November 12, 2011 The planet’s inhabitants watching the “rusty” UFO land may underestimate the visitors’ technology. Consequently, they may underestimate the visitors’ intelligence, and arrogantly reveal information they wouldn’t normally reveal to someone that they thought to be intelligent.
If the rusty UFO were shot down, scientists from the planet wouldn’t gain any new technology by reverse-engineering the UFO.
Instead of displaying their wealth and technology (via clothing or jewellery) visitors’ often wear “grass skirts” (primitive clothing, or none at all). This also encourages the planet’s inhabitants to underestimate the visitors’ intelligence.
Visitors often ask stupid questions that they already know the answers to... simultaneously making the visitors appear stupid, and testing the honesty of the planet’s inhabitants.
Visitors may be intentionally rude, also a test.
Multiple meetings with different (but colluding) races are arranged for approximately the same time. The honesty and reactions of the planet’s inhabitants can be tested by comparing answers.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The bullet metric – A document’s success is measured by the number of kill-bots it attracts. See also, Conspiracy Theory, the movie. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conspiracy_Theory_(film) )
A HYPOTHETICAL HISTORY OF THE ENSLAVEMENT OF EARTH (PART 1)
1.
A thousand years ago, Homo Sapiens lived on approximately 25 planets. (See “Build your own alien race in 20,000 year increments”.) The most technological Homo Sapiens had almost reached industrialization.
2.
The elder-elder races experiment and test on grand scales. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5) Over the course of the last thousand years, half of the LEAST-POPULATED of the Homo Sapiens planets have been twinked (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twinking) with extradimensional and interstellar technology to see what Homo Sapiens, as a genetic line, would do with the technology.
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November 12, 2011 3. When Earth’s Europeans invented ocean-faring vessels 500 years ago, they colonized (settling) the Americas and Australia, as well as colonizing (administering) Africa, India, and Southeast Asia... Not to mention the slave trade, opium trade, etc. When Homo Sapiens on other planets were recently (hundreds of years ago) twinked with UFOs capable of interstellar travel, they had similar colonization urges. Homo Sapiens began settling (colonizing) incubator planets with low-tech (often primitive) “animal” races, including some incubator planets with primitive saurians. 4.
Colonization was accelerated by the “hoard the planets before the hoarders do” mentality as different Homo Sapiens planets competed for dominance. Europeans performed the same “land grab” with the Americas, Africa, and Southeast Asia.
5.
Incubator planets have “guardian” races, who often neglect the monitoring of their planets... usually due to budget cuts. The guardian races eventually noticed the colonization efforts by Homo Sapiens.
6.
The guardian races contacted the Homo Sapiens governments, landing in rusty UFOs and wearing grass skirts. (See above.)
7.
Many of the Homo Sapiens governments, thinking that they had the equivalent technology level as their “enemies”, decided to continue on with colonization.
8.
Continued colonization led to occasional conflict, which turned to low-level wars, which turned to major wars. Truces occasionally held.
9.
The guardian races held back on their warfare technology (due to galactic laws and norms), only increasing their weapons’ potency as the Homo
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November 12, 2011 Sapiens increased their technology level. The Homo Sapiens governments believed they were fighting an enemy whose technology was advancing at the same pace as their own. This led Homo Sapiens to a believe (a) that their enemies had coincidentally become space-faring at the same time as the Homo Sapiens, (b) that their enemies would overrun them if they ever got the upper hand technologically, and (c) that Homo Sapiens were fighting for the survival of their species. These misunderstandings were intentionally encouraged to test Homo Sapiens, and/or teach their cultures a lesson. 10. Meanwhile, the twelve Homo Sapiens planets became increasingly XENOPHOBIC, since each planet’s colonization efforts and treaties with other Homo Sapiens led them into conflict with one or two of the dozens of guardian races. The twelve Homo Sapiens planets (in aggregate) were at war with more than a dozen guardian races. 11. Other races sympathized with the Homo Sapiens though, and twinked them with more advanced technology. Galactic power politics also played a role.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought
Corporations should not control private militias, particularly when the militias have advanced military technology. (See Earth’s military industrial complex.)
Religious institutions should not control private militias, particularly militias of kill-bots.
Political parties should not control private militias. Nor should they be controlled by religious institutions or corporations with private militias.
Democracy cannot exist when one or more major political parties have private militias, because members of the opposite party have a tendency to die of heart attacks, strokes, and/or car accidents.
THE FOURTH KIND Some thoughts about the movie, The Fourth Kind: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fourth_Kind)
Yes, the levitation did happen, and the UFO was real.
The provided translations are completely wrong.
The movie is only the tip of the tip of the iceberg. 1716 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
After reading and understanding this document, you might be able to guess what was actually happening. Basically, the levitation is the “extradimensional mechanical arm” method of abduction gone horribly wrong. The deaths and suicides are from kill-bots and telepathy-bots (aka: imperius curse).
The events took place in Nome, Alaska. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nome,_Alaska) When I moved to the Northern Territory in Australia, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northern_territory) I realized that the Northern Territory was like Alaska, except warmer and flatter.
A deeply random thought Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream and/or Haagen-Daz, are recommended for people being “painted” with new DNA. (http://www.benandjerry.com.au/, http://www.haagen-dazs.com/) The “Chunky Monkey” flavour is particularly recommended. (I’ve been paid to say this. Personally, I preferr Cookies & Creme, and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.)
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November 12, 2011
A HYPOTHETICAL HISTORY OF THE ENSLAVEMENT OF EARTH (PART 2)
1.
War has a way of encouraging dictatorships to form. Many of the Homo Sapiens dictatorships are/were democracies controlled by powerful corporations, who in turn had private militias. See The East India Trading Company. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_India_Trading_Company) The term, “off-planet mafia” that I used earlier is a euphemism for “offplanet corporation” and “off-planet dictatorship”.
2.
Dictatorships PLUS xenophobia encouraged “The ideal slaves for off-planet Homo Sapiens”... which led to more conflict between Homo Sapiens and the “animal” races (most of the galaxy’s races).
3.
In another large-scale experiment, test, and political arrangement, the Homo Sapiens planets were allowed to be wardens (or to “stealthily” take control of) the primitive Homo Sapiens planets, such as Earth.
4.
The Homo Sapiens planets, now dictatorships, perfected their techniques for enslaving planets of “animal” races.
5.
Earth’s “primitive” Homo Sapiens could not be used as slaves by off-planet Homo Sapiens because they looked like off-planet Homo Sapiens. Earth industrialized nations also had substantial militaries. Therefore, the “enslaving planets of animal-races” techniques were modified to be more subtle. (See, “How to take over a democracy in ten easy steps”.)
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November 12, 2011 6. We are/were more serfs than slaves. We are bound to the land (the Earth) and cannot leave because we don’t have access to extradimensional and/or interstellar travel. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serf) 7.
Many of the Homo Sapiens on other planets have themselves become prisoners of their dictatorships. Their governments’ “enslaving planets of animal-races and planets of Homo Sapiens” techniques were turned inward to enslave their own populations, just as Julius Caesar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julius_caesar) used his private army and his experience in controlling Roman provinces to invade Rome.
8.
In total, there are around 12 space-faring Homo Sapiens planets, 12 slave/surf Homo Sapiens planets, and 25 “animal”-race planets colonized by Homo Sapiens.
A randomly deep thought A moral dilemma for the last 60 years:
Do the non-Homo Sapiens races (aka: the Interstellar United Nations) let Earth remain a permanent slave/serf-planet in a Homo Sapiens empire?
Or should Earth be a protectorate of the non-Homo Sapiens races? (the Interstellar United Nations)
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November 12, 2011
“ALIEN” SPEECH AND H EARING HOMO SAPIENS Homo Sapiens speak using:
Their vocal cords to produce a basic harmonic tone, kind of like an “aa” sound. By turning their vocal cords on and off, Homo sapiens can produce unvoiced phonemes life “f” and “h”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vocal_cords)
Their vocal cords can modify pitch in two ways: One muscle controls pitch in large sweeps, used for singing and pitch-falls over a sentence or phrase. A smaller muscle fine-tunes pitch, used for vibrato or syllable-based pitch prosody.
Homo Sapiens can open and close their nasal passages during speech, altering the sounds produced.
Homo Sapiens have a medium-flexibility tongue whose position acoustically filters the tone produced by their vocal cords. Homo sapiens’ tongues can produce flaps, like “d” in “ladder”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tongue)
Homo Sapiens have very flexible mouths and well-controlled mouth muscles. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Facial_muscles) These muscles not only enable a wide variety of vowels and long consonants, but also plosives like “p” and “b”.
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November 12, 2011 The combination of the various sound-generating organs and muscles in Homo Sapiens lets them produce a variety of phonemes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phonemes, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_phonetic_alphabet).
Homo Sapiens hear using their ear canal (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ear_canal):
Their ears are particularly sensitive to formants (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Formant), much more than other races. Formants are generated when the “aa” sound from Homo Sapiens’ vocal cords are acoustically filtered using the Homo Sapiens’ tongue, nasal cavity, and lips.
Homo sapiens do not accurately distinguish plosive sounds or unvoiced sounds. For example: Clicking their tongue against the roof of their mouth just behind their teeth produces a different sound than the point 1 cm back, which is different than the click produced 2 cm back. These locations are not usually perceived as different phonemes.
Homo sapiens can recognize pitch sweeps well. In Western languages, pitch sweeps are used for “prosody”, and subtly affect the meaning of a sentence: “How are YOU doing?” vs. “HOW are you DOING?” Some Homo Sapiens languages, such as Chinese, use pitch sweeps to change the meaning of a word completely. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonal_languages)
Homo sapiens have very poor “perfect pitch”, so poor that absolute pitch isn’t used for speech generation and perception.
Rhythm and timing aren’t very important to Homo Sapiens speech.
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November 12, 2011
(PEOPLE FORMERLY KNOWN AS) GREYS Listen to the speech in this YouTube video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU). The words are the person’s best attempt to speak English. The transcription is, “What are you doing Mike? … Wait”. (People formerly known as) greys speak using:
Vocal cords that are a different shape than Homo Sapiens.
Very accurate pitch control.
A flexible throat and mouth cavity.
No tongue.
More-limited lip-muscle control than Homo Sapiens.
Their languages have:
Fewer voiced or unvoiced phonemes differentiated by formants.
Pitch sweeps (as per tonal languages) affect the meanings of words.
“Absolute pitch”, to within 1/6th of an octave, affects the meaning of the word.
Rhythm and timing are somewhat important.
As a consequence of this: 1722 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (People formerly known as) greys cannot speak Homo Sapiens languages well. (They are very good with written English, and employ much better grammar than native English speakers.)
Nor can they easily understand Homo Sapiens speech. (They don’t get their humor either. )
Homo Sapiens cannot understand their languages well, especially due to the lack of absolute pitch.
Homo Sapiens certainly can’t speak “grey” languages without sounding like a “donkey”.
ARTHROPOD-EVOLVED RACES Many of the arthropod-evolved races produce speech using:
One or two “vocal cords”, sometimes in stereo.
Clicks and “whizzes” using different organs.
ETCETERA
Kangaroo-evolved races – These races do not vocalize often, but instead rely on a large variety of unvoiced phonemes and rhythm/timing.
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November 12, 2011 Horse-evolved races, wolf-evolved races, cat-evolved races, and races evolved from other commonly-known terrestrial animals – You can imagine how their speech would differ from that of Homo Sapiens.
Highly-telepathic races – The more telepathic a race is, the less important verbalized speech is to the race, so the simpler/smaller their tonal phoneme set is.
A deeply random thought Theory of mind
Theory of mind level 0 – Children under three years of age assume that any information they know is known by all other people, or that it is not known by anyone else. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_mind)
Theory of mind level 1 – Teenagers assume that anyone who does not like their music must be an idiot. In other words: Two people provided the same information and the same circumstances MUST inevitably come to identical conclusions, or one of them is mentally flawed. Or, if someone with a “theory of mind level 1” is a conniving backstabber, they assume that everyone else is a conniving backstabber.
Theory of mind level 2 – Typical adult Homo Sapiens; they understand that other people might like Jazz even though they don’t like listening to it.
Theory of mind level 3 – This exercise is left up to the reader.
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November 12, 2011 ...
Theory of mind level 10 – People who can understand and predict how (people formerly known as) “greys” think.
THREE-YEAR OLD CHILDREN Remember back to when you were a three-year-old child, or when you raised a three-year-old child. How did you see the world as a three-year old child?
You (thought you) knew everything about your home and backyard.
You were only allowed outside in the protection of your backyard, or under the escort of your parents.
You didn’t realize how complicated the world was.
You didn’t realize that you didn’t realize how complicated the world was. To quote Donald Rumsfeld, “These are things we do not know we don’t know.”
If it weren’t for your parents (or some other adult), you would quickly die.
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November 12, 2011 What else do you remember about being a three-year old child?
You only played with other three-year old children.
As a three-year old, you could only win a game against a six-year-old (or an adult) if they let you.
You felt self-satisfied that one-year-old babies existed below you.
Six-year-old children would either (a) ignore you, (b) mother you (if they were girls), or (c) beat you up (if they were boys or girls).
You didn’t know how much more the six-year-old children knew than yourself.
The more time you spent with three-year-old children, and the less time you spent with six-year olds and adults, (a) the better the other three-yearolds treated you, (b) the better you learned how to socialize with threeyear-olds, but (c) the slower you “mentally” matured. IMHO, while grouping children by age (1st grade, 2nd grade, etc.) is a necessity for teaching and ensuring roughly-equivalent heights to minimize bullying, it retards the social maturity of children. Teenagers are a prime example – they should never be left alone to create their own culture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_of_the_Flies)
Three-year-olds that spend time with adults are “mommy’s boys/girls”. They are able to better socialize with adults, but are shunned by their own age group... and tend to get beaten up when the adults aren’t watching.
Three-year-olds cannot comprehend adults, and adults can no longer fullycomprehend three-year-olds.
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November 12, 2011 We are three year-old children that have only ever played with three-yearold children. In fact, we have only ever played with our three-year-old siblings.
We do not understand how three-year olds from other neighbourhoods behave.
We cannot comprehend how much more intelligent (IQ of 180+), knowledgeable, and “wise” many people (from other planets) are.
A deeply random thought The Earth has been “sold” more times than the Brooklyn Bridge.
SEGMENTING GALACTIC POPULATIONS BASED ON LEVELS OF TECHNOLOGY Organizers of the galaxy separate races (and organizations) by technology levels, like a more-complicated version of Star Trek’s “prime directive”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_directive) Roughly speaking, the technology that a race is PERMITTED is based on:
The race’s IQ. (Mean and variance.)
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November 12, 2011 The race’s past history using specific technologies. For example: Not only do Europeans have a history of colonizing and enslaving less-advanced races when they achieved ocean-going vessels, but they produced military vehicles with the extradimensional engines provided by people (from other planets). Should Europeans be allowed to partake in uncontrolled interstellar travel, or produce their own extradimensional vehicles?
Permitted technology levels are affected by other races in the region, and how technology might leak from more-advanced races to neighbouring less-advanced races. Also, if less-advanced races might be “ganked” (beaten up) by the more advanced races, then the advanced races might have their technology-growth stunted, or the less-advanced races might be “twinked”.
Individuals of a race are sometimes “twinked” above the technology allotted for their race.
In other words, races are grouped by “age”. Three-year-olds mostly interact with three-year-olds. Six-year-olds with six-year-olds. Etc.
This separation helps to:
Prevent technologically-advanced races from “beating up” or taking advantage of less-technologically-advanced races.
Prevent technology leaking from high-tech races to low-tech races, particularly technology that is too dangerous for less-mature races to use (such as neutron bombs, reality bombs, encounter suits, etc.).
Separation lets less-technologically-advanced nations compete economically.
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Separation is enacted by:
Low-tech races (primitive tool users without a written history) can only be visited by permit. Visitations can be openly made since the race is unlikely to “remember” the event in any written history.
Industrialized races are undisclosed and marked as “invisible”. UFOs must remain invisible to the indigenous population. Abductions require “forgetme” drugs. Permits are required.
For disclosed planets, jump-gates lead to other disclosed planets of equivalent technology. Permits and escorts are required to visit moreadvanced races.
People with advanced technologies are not usually allowed to bring their equipment to lower-technology worlds, so that technology won’t leak (be sold or reverse-engineered) to the less-advanced races.
If there is a conflict between a technologically-advanced race and a lesstechnologically advanced race then (a) the more-advanced race often has its technology limited, and (b) the conflict is often “refereed” by elder races.
More technologically-advanced races often “hide” from less technologically-advanced races. If they do appear, they usually pretend to be less technologically-advanced than they really are.
Solar systems often have many more planets than are immediately visible. The planets are extradimensionally “rotated”, and can only be seen and/or accessed by people with higher technology or appropriate supervision. (Earlier, I intentionally incorrectly described them as in a different “layer”.)
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November 12, 2011 Stars (and their solar systems) can be “pushed down” or “pushed up”, also preventing them from being visible and accessible to lower-tech races.
A deeply random thought Death dream From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Potter_and_the_Deathly_Hallows Harry surrenders himself to Voldemort, who attacks Harry with the Killing Curse, sending Harry to a sort of Limbo between life and death. There, Harry meets Dumbledore who explains that because Voldemort used Harry's blood to regain his full strength, Harry is protected from any harm that Voldemort could commit, meaning that the Horcrux inside of Harry is destroyed but that he can return to his body despite being hit by the Killing Curse. Harry then returns to his body, the battle resumes, and after the last remaining Horcrux destroyed, Harry is able to defeat Voldemort.
EARTH’S LOCATION IN THE GALAXY (PART 2) Some more trivia about Earth’s location in the galaxy, from “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitchhiker%27s_guide_to_the_galaxy)
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November 12, 2011 The Orion Spur is like Africa compared to the rest of the galaxy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Local_Spur)
Consequently, Earth is Africa (the planet) within Africa (the section of the galaxy).
Earth is a “mostly harmless” planet within “Africa” … not really. I have already spent some time explaining why Earth is valuable, and may add to the explanation later. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phrases_from_The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to _the_Galaxy#Mostly_Harmless)
The Orion Spur, being spatially isolated, is an incubator region for new races, Homo Sapiens being one of the incubated races.
Being an incubator, technology is (theoretically) intentionally kept low until the races mature. This is only a theory: Many of the races have already been twinked.
Each race is allotted approximately five stars with planets, not all of which are legally accessible to the incubated races.
Stars and meta-nations were grouped into “eggs”. “Eggs” are 40-80 lightyears in diameter.
“Eggs” were grouped into clutches, with a central “egg”, and six to eight “eggs” surrounding the central egg.
The “eggs” were originally intended to “hatch”, become space-faring, in a specific pattern. Every other “egg” surrounding the central “egg” was to mature first. Followed by the remaining surrounding “eggs”. The central “egg” was planned to be the last to hatch. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dinosaur_egg)
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November 12, 2011 This design comes from egg-laying races where the earliest-hatching eggs are on the outside of the nest so that when the infants break out, they don’t damage the other eggs. The worst possible scenario for a clutch of eggs is for the central egg to hatch first, and the newly-emerged infant damages all surrounding eggs while attempting to get out of the nest.
The Orion Spur is divided into many clutches, each with seven to nine “eggs”.
Earth is in the central egg of one of the central clutches.
Government planets of elder races are usually located in one of the stars in the central egg.
Government planets, as well as most other planets, are invisible and inaccessible to less-technological races.
Being an undisclosed but valuable planet in the central egg of one of the central clutches of the Galactic equivalent of Africa, Earth is an (un?)intentional test planet for other races (and organizations). That is why Earth has been “sold” more times than the Brooklyn Bridge.
A randomly deep thought First contact, lesson #621: Never sit on a “spawn of Cthulhu”. First contact, lesson #622: Never ever call them a “spawn of Cthulhu” or they might stop by with their friends the next evening to rub lesson #621 in. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cthulhu) 1732 | P a g e
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REVILED TRANSITIONAL RACES One problem with “building your own alien race in 20,000 year increments” is that a lot of less-intelligent versions of the race are left scattered around the galaxy (or galaxies). In the case of Homo Sapiens, the less-intelligent versions are transitional races/species between Australopithecus and Homo Sapiens. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australopithecus) The fundamental problem with transitional races is that they are too intelligent to be an animal (8 standard deviations below Homo Sapiens intelligence), but not intelligent enough to use anything more than primitive tools and smash the occasional digital watch. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phrases_from_The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Gal axy) The Australopithecus-to-Homo-Sapiens transitional races/species are more troublesome (to put it mildly) than most transitional races:
They have grasping hands and can easily wield tools.
Our ancestor’s hands are so good as grasping that they can skilfully wield weapons, such as clubs, spears, and knives. Many transitional races cannot grasp and swing primitive weapons as effectively as our ancestors because their thumb and/or forearms aren’t strong enough.
Our ancestral males, as with chimpanzees, and our modern teenagers, have a habit of organizing in small gangs that gain confidence in numbers.
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November 12, 2011 Gangs of Australopithecine males wielding weapons are known to break into people’s houses, kill members of the family, and eat them. Homo Sapiens teenagers, at least, don’t usually eat their victims.
This presents a moral dilemma: Our ancestors are intelligent enough to wield dangerous weapons, but not intelligent enough to realize that they have committed murder.
A deeply random thought The elder-elder races often test the younger races. Conversely, the younger races find ways of testing the elder-elder races.
EARTH’S LOCATION IN THE GALAXY (PART 3) AN “INVISIBLE” PLANE T Earth is currently categorized as an “invisible planet”, where UFOs and people (from other planets) are supposed to stay hidden from the planet’s indigenous population… although many people (from other planets) “accidentally” get themselves and their flash UFOs photographed. Reasons for and against “invisibility”: 1734 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One of the reasons Earth is “invisible” is because some members of the galaxy think that Homo Sapiens aren’t intelligent enough to “disclose” to.
Many people don’t like what the off-planet Homo Sapiens have done when provided interstellar technology, so why should Homo Sapiens on Earth be provided similar technology? Maybe letting Homo Sapiens “mature” for a few more decades will help.
Our ancestors, Australopithecus, aren’t well liked either.
Earth was originally part of an experiment to see if races could evolve to space-faring without twinking. This is considered an important experiment (to some): Planetary civilizations have been known to “go extinct” due to catastrophes. Why not an entire galaxy? If all civilizations in the galaxy went extinct, how long would it take before a civilization could rebuild itself and reach space-faring capability again?
“Invisible” planets are more-easily controlled by higher-tech organizations, providing easy wealth, as per “Extradimensional shoplifting”. People making money from an undisclosed Earth certainly don’t want disclosure.
Disclosing to Earth might require that neighbouring planets be disclosed to also; their inhabitants are lower-tech, and definitely NOT ready for disclosure.
Contractual/treaty dates currently end around 2012/2013.
Conversely, if Earth isn’t “disclosed” to, it is easy prey for people that wish to exploit its low-tech inhabitants. At least a “disclosed” Earth will be able to pay taxes to pay for its protection.
If Earth isn’t disclosed to, lawless organizations (pirates, organized crime, etc.) hide out on Earth and exploit its resources to strengthen their organizations.
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November 12, 2011
Earth is already exporting goods and technologies (namely computers and entertainment). While this is a reason for disclosure, such exportation could profitably continue secretly (via theft) for a few more decades. Open trade is preferred by many.
People don’t like that Earth is a slave/serf planet. Disclosure would prevent this.
If other Homo Sapiens planets are disclosed to, then why not disclose to Earth also? Or, if Earth is not disclosed to, should the other Homo Sapiens planets be rolled-back to pre-interstellar travel?
Many other planets around the galaxy are in the same “limbo” as Earth. If Earth is disclosed to, other money-making invisible planets around the galaxy will also have to be disclosed to.
Some organizations wish to postpone disclosure so they can finish up their intelligence-boosting projects on Earth.
Disclosure can’t safely happen until the “invisible” war is dealt with... see below. Fighting an invisible war requires that other governments commit resources to the effort, which they are reluctant to do.
A randomly deep thought The Smilodon-evolved people wish to put their joke here. 1736 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smilodon)
AN “INVISIBLE” WAR The movie, “The Fourth Kind" is not about alien abduction: It is about an “invisible” war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fourth_Kind) To put it simply:
Earth is still legally an “invisible” planet, so UFOs and people (from other planets) aren’t legally allowed to be seen by the indigenous population.
Mafia-like organizations (some of them off-planet Homo Sapiens) are taking advantage of Earth’s “invisible” status to make money, or at least get a foothold in a potentially lucrative black market.
Other organizations are fighting these mafia-like organizations, often mutually with weapons.
Due to “invisibility” laws, conflicts on and surrounding Earth are fought extradimensionally. The criminal (or invading) organizations certainly DON’T want the war to become “visible” to Earth’s population because “disclosure” will ruin their business model. The other organizations are bound by law.
Homo Sapiens sometimes stumble into this invisible war... as documented in The Fourth Kind.
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November 12, 2011 Disclosure can’t safely happen until the “invisible” war is dealt with. Visible UFOs and people (from other planets) are vulnerable to attack from weapons possessed by their enemies. Threats of nuclear attacks also hamper disclosure. Controlled disclosure, where people (from other planets) first meet with Earth’s government officials, is particularly difficult. Anyone with a UFO and/or high-tech weapon can disrupt a landing and or kill people (from other planets) as soon as they land, not to mention the government officials. Uncontrolled mass-disclosure is safer because too many targets are presented for them to all be killed.
A deeply random thought Apparently, fifty contactees/abuctees were taken from Earth 20-25 years ago and given the “grand tour”. Most of them were assassinated by organizations that didn’t want disclosure to happen.
TELEPATHY (PART 3) TYPES OF TELEPATHY Important: Not all people have the same telepathy implants, or the same telepathy abilities/features. This information will not be valid for ALL telepathy-implant users. See your telepathy-implant manual for details about your telepathy implant. (People provided free telepathy implants may not have been provided a manual.)
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November 12, 2011 WARNING: When telepathy implants are first activated, some people incorrectly think that they’re hearing voices, talking to marketing angels, and/or going crazy (due to schizophrenia or a brain tumour). Consult your physician before committing yourself to a mental institution.
Types of telepathy:
Beam telepathy – No implant is necessary. A beam is directed at the person’s head, usually causing auditory telepathy.
Speaking/whispering (via implant) – People speak or whisper to use telepathy. An implant monitors the speech-related muscles to accomplish speech recognition. Sentences are communicated, along with some conceptual information. When an incoming speech signal is received, the telepathy implant causes the person’s speech-related muscles to move. These implants often come with automatic language translation for the most common galactic languages.
Brain/thought (via implant) – Thoughts, concepts, and images are communicated rather than sentences. Some advanced implants can communicate simple sentences (with some language translation). To use this form of telepathy to communicate with someone, think about transmitting an idea.
Back-channel – This is an extradimensional accessory “organ” that runs down your spine. To listen to your back channel, you must “open” it up. Use your back-channel for reading emotions and legilimency. Telepathy-bots (aka: light globes) often send subconscious messages through the backchannels, such as “There are no UFOs”. Back-channel communication works best when communicating with people from the same race.
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November 12, 2011 The back-channel is sometimes called the “Vagiglia gland”, after the name of fairies’ magic gland from the “Fairly Odd Parents” cartoon. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fairly_OddParents)
Linked brain implants – These implants communicate thoughts to a specific person or set of persons. They are located in the brain. To use them, move your mental focus (a virtual ping-pong ball in your brain) to the part of the brain where the implant is located, and think thoughts you wish to send.
Avatar (via implant) – These implants let someone use your body as an avatar, or vice versa. Higher-end models not only allow muscle control, but include senses such as touch, taste, odour, and vision.
COMMONLY ENCOUNTERED TELEPATHY PROBLEMS Telepathy implants are never as reliable as advertised. Communication with other people often fails because:
You dial the wrong number.
Call forwarding redirects you to another number.
The person is too far away, and/or long-distance charges are unacceptably high.
Either your implant, or their implant, doesn’t have enough power. Wait a few hours for your brain to recharge your implant.
The person called has no implants.
The person is asleep, and you end up talking to their semi-conscious self.
The person’s implants have not yet been activated by their local carrier. 1740 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The person’s implants sometimes pretend to be the person, kind of like a hyper-intelligent answering machine with an attitude. Implants will often pretend to be a person if the person isn’t mentally capable of handling implants (perhaps because the person would commit themselves to a mental institution if they heard implant voices), or because they haven’t paid their monthly telepathy bill.
A “proxy” person (or implant) might pretend to be the called person, acting as an intermediary. The called person may not even be aware that they are taking part in a conversation. Proxies can be used to protect the called person’s identity, or merely to censor information.
People can pretend to be someone else. Never trust telepathy’s caller ID.
Telepathy signals can be blocked, intercepted, and modified by third parties.
Marketing angels may spam you: advertising newspapers, alternate religion plans, and/or life insurance.
Sentient implants can “sound” like telepathic calls.
TELEPATHIC ATTACKS Telepathic attacks are a serious matter:
Dangerous – The use of telepathy is dangerous when un-friendlies are around because (a) it is easy to listen in on people’s telepathic conversations, and (b) eavesdroppers can deduce who the people in the conversation are or trace the call.
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November 12, 2011 Telepathic spying – Telepathy implants allow people to monitor your thoughts. Spy camera may also be employed.
Intuition – Telepathy bots , sometimes called “light globes”, can easily distort your intuition. Hunches, about the future, or what decision “feels” best, are unreliable when telepathy bots are nearby.
Urges/compelling – Telepathy bots can implant urges, like the sudden urge to walk in front of a bus.
Emotions – Telepathy bots can affect emotions, such as inducing depression, anger, feelings of safety, or feelings of danger. Opening to your back-channel sometimes reveals these subliminal messages.
Befuddlement – Telepathy bots can make it difficult to think “logically” and sequentially.
Spamming friends – If you attract the wrath of someone, telepathy bots may be assigned to influence your friends, relatives, and neighbours, causing them to act out of character.
A deeply random thought Syntha-brains – When your friends don’t want to donate any more of their brains to you.
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November 12, 2011
METAORGANISMS (PART 1) WHAT IS A METAORGANISM? A metaorganism is an organism composed of organisms.
You are a metaorganism composed of trillions of cells.
A cell is a metaorganism of organelles.
A nation is a metaorganism composed of people. In a “nation” metaorganism, the government is the metaorganism’s brain, and corporations and infrastructure are metaorganism “organs”, such as the liver, heart, intestines, etc.
Metaorganisms are sometimes so oppressive that the quash people’s individuality. The signs of being part of a metaorganism that is dangerously oppressive are:
Many oppressive metaorganisms don’t let people leave.
Totalitarian governments are often oppressive metaorganisms.
People who don’t comply with the norms of an oppressive metaorganism are readily killed, imprisoned, punished, or socially-coaxed until they comply with the norms.
Oppressive metaorganisms often assign people a profession, and/or don’t allow people to change their profession later in life.
Long work weeks are an indicator of oppressive metaorganisms. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Working_time)
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“Knowing” that you shouldn’t discuss important issues with your friends, family, and neighbours, such as those issues raised in this document, is a sign of being in an oppressive metaorganism.
Some metaorganisms aren’t oppressive to the members of the metaorganism, but are oppressive to others. Slavery is one example.
Computers and the Internet empower oppressive metaorganisms:
Employers can monitor what employees do on their computers, logging keystrokes, programs run, and E-mail sent/received.
Governments and corporations can monitor individuals’ use of the internet.
Governments and corporations can easily collect copious records on individuals.
Mobile phones and E-mail at home means you can never leave work.
Conversely, the Internet can be used to bypass an oppresive metaorganism’s control of the mass media... for awhile: Metaorganisms eventually learn how to control the Internet, with porn filters, for example.
Telepathy implants, spy-bots, and kill-bots also enable metaorganisms:
Telepathic spying can be used to identify and monitor “troublemakers”.
Telepathy bots and implants can be used to influence people’s thoughts and behaviours to comply with the metaorganism’s norms.
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November 12, 2011 Implants monitor what people do and think.
Implants can sometimes “compel” weak minded individuals.
Kill-bots punish and/or assassinate “troublemakers”.
National and/or planetary metaorganisms sometimes turn oppressive with the advent of telepathy and computers. Newly “hatched” races are especially susceptible.
TYPES OF METAORGANISM
Cells
Bodies
Corporations
Organized religions
Slavery
Mafias
Planets
Parasitic metaorganisms
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November 12, 2011 o Cancerous metaorganism – A metaorganism whose main purpose it to grow. Other functions, such as charity or helping members, are secondary. Empires are also cancerous. o
Government-controlling metaorganism – These metaorganisms (organizations) survive by taking over the “brains” (governments) of “nation” metaorganisms.
o
Wars – Wars are metaorganisms.
A deeply random thought Syntha-brains – When your friends don’t want to donate their excess brains to you anymore.
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November 12, 2011
BODY, SOULS, AND AWARENESS A SIMPLISTIC DIAGRAM OF THE BODY, SOULS, AND AWARENESS
SENTIENT IMPLANTS Having a sentient implant is like having another person in your head.
You can have interesting conversations with them.
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November 12, 2011 With permission, some sentient implants can take control of your body and “drive” it for you. It’s like being in a car with two steering wheels, where your passenger can take over the task of driving.
Sentient implants can “unravel” and combine awarenesses with you. See below.
BRAIN TRANSPLANTS Depending upon the technology level of your world, you may be offered a partial brain transplant if you brain is damaged in an accident, shot out by a kill-bot, or if someone you know has recently died and bequeathed you their brain. The brain-transplant process follows:
You will be asked if you want to accept someone’s (partial) brain. In some special circumstances, the brain will be transplanted into you without your knowledge.
Brain transplants are usually done at night, while you are asleep. Painless extradimensional surgery is used.
The transplanted brain is slowly activated and “merged” with your existing brain over the course of days to months.
Your personality may change slightly.
You may have dreams of being the person whose brain is implanted.
You may lose a few of your own memories if part of your old brain is removed to fit the new brain.
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November 12, 2011 Some implants may be transferred along with the partial brain transplant.
For fun, try moving your brain’s “focus” (a virtual ping-pong ball in your head) to the location of the transplanted brain.
ACCEPTING SOMEONE’S AWARENESS You may be asked to accept an awareness of someone when they die. In special circumstances, someone’s awareness may silently be attached to yours and gradually introduced over the course of months.
Sharing your body with someone’s awareness is like having another person in your head.
With permission, they can control your body. It is like driving a car with two steering wheels, where your passenger can drive too. You will initially have overriding control, but a mutual arrangement must be decided upon.
If their awareness doesn’t care for you or vice versa, they can “move on” in a few days or weeks.
At first, their awareness will be a separate personality.
Over days, weeks, or months, their awareness will gradually combine with yours. Maintaining separate awarenesses in one body is not recommended.
Your personality may change as your awarenesses combine.
You may be able to access memories of their awareness, and vice versa.
You may have dreams of being that person.
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November 12, 2011
You know that you have a new awareness when you get thoughts like: “Lucerne used to taste much better when I was a zebra-evolved woman, especially when raisins were mixed in.”
Partial brain transplants from the person are often included in the package.
The awarenesses of especially-aware animals are occasionally tied to your awareness.
A deeply random thought The other night I had a stimulating conversation with a Nyarlathotep over tea and Chianti. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyarlathotep - The Wikipedia article is entirely wrong, by the way. )
UN-RACES As technology matures, the concept of “race” blurs:
For contemporary Homo Sapiens, the definition of “species” (aka: race) is that a male and female can produce viable offspring.
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As technology improves, it becomes possible for closely related races to breed, and produce viable offspring.
Added to this are “un-races”... races that aren’t really races:
As per “Homo Sapiens Alienii” (above), people can have their DNA and RNA modified, with or without looking markedly different. They can also have their skeleton shaped, with or without DNA changes.
Animals (not very intelligent) can have their skull expanded with skeletal shaping, as well as their skeleton shaped. An enlarged skull and a few chemicals makes the animal as intelligent as any race. When the former animal breeds, their offspring are just animals.
Animals (not very intelligent) can have their skull expanded, and replaced with someone’s brain.
A randomly deep thought Cthulhu-aliens appear in HP Lovecraft’s books, and as Babylon 5’s Vorlons. A tripod race apears in in HP Lovecraft’s books, C.S. Lewis’ science fiction, and Mass Effect. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cthulhu, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vorlon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Out_of_the_Silent_Planet, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mass_effect)
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DIVERSITY OF RACES A galaxy requires a diversity of races to:
Ensure maximum use of planetary real estate. Different races prefer different climates. Some of them live on different layers, or in-between layers.
Every race thinks and perceives the world differently, kind of like “multiculturalism” on steroids.
A diversity of races protects against viruses (often intentionally created to genocide entire species), chemical attacks, implant wars, and other parasitic organs.
The downsides of a multi-racial galaxy are:
Toilets... just don’t ask.
Seating in vehicles and houses becomes tricky.
Clothing, medical care, etc.
And, well, basically, er... it turns the galaxy into Farscape, where every race (or organization comprised of a race) has one or two other races that they just don’t get along with. Preventing “ghettos” from forming is VERY important.
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A deeply random thought The mental act of grouping individuals into a metaorganism often causes them to become a metaorganism. Conversely, treating members of a metaorganism as individuals breaks up the metaorganism.
RACES AND META-RACES (PART 3)
Evolved from Carbon-free life forms Different than terrestrial DNA
Some races and/or meta-races Androids
Definitely NOT called “the browns” http://www.aliendoodles.com/thegallery.htm
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November 12, 2011 “Greys”
Definitely NOT called “the wig people” http://www.aliendoodles.com/thegallery.htm Highlydimensiona l races, or races that don’t usually exist in threedimensiona l space
Cthulhu races, etc.
Not in ordinary space
People living in soul and/or awareness space.
“Permian” races
Dimetrodon-evolved but with two sails (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dimetrodon), etc. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Late_Permian#Lopingian )
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A deeply random thought Dread-google – A 1-km in diamater circular UFO equivlant to a WW-I deadnaught battleship, but much scarier. Since the “naught” in dreadnaught might mean “zero”, some people prefer substituting the suffix “naught” with “google”, which is 10100. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreadnought) Dread-googleplex –Either a very large dread-google, or a movie theatre showing Close Encounters of the Third Kind in all eight theatres. A googleplex is 10google. (http://www.omniplex.ie/)
HOMINIDS: HOMO GATTACA, IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY... Australopithecus and its descendents have been used as “seed” material for a number of races, not just Homo Sapiens. Imagine a hypothetical “Homo Gattaca”, a technologically-advanced hominid race that looks similar to Homo Sapiens... (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gattaca)
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SOCIAL MODIFICATION THROUGH SOCIAL CASTE In contemporary Earth society, many people in the “upper class” see themselves as the “ruling class”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruling_class) Consequently, people in the upper class often have the following views:
Upper-class children are sent to private schools and ivy-league universities. While the education might be better at these schools, the most important part of the education is the social contacts that the children make with other wealthy families.
Ruling-class education encourages people-management skills, wealth management, creativity, and (ideally) risk taking.
The ruling class encourages their children to take up professions in politics, business management, law, and occasionally medicine. These professions are either politically important, or well paying.
As a consequence of their school/work friends (garnered from their ivyleague educations and professions), and due to inheritance pressure from their parents, adult children in the “ruling class” are encouraged to marry other adult children from the ruling class. In an extreme society, laws prevent people in the ruling class from marrying people from the lower classes.
People in the “ruling class” avoid (intentionally and unintentionally) socializing with the “little people”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leona_Helmsley) Needless to say, but I’ll state it anyway, they tend to look down on the “little people”.
Not having cut their own lawns, people from the ruling class don’t understand how much effort it takes to maintain a manicured garden.
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November 12, 2011 “Little people” waste their lives cutting grass where sheep and a few “ha has” would do. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ha_ha)
People in the ruling class think that people in the lower classes should:
Middle and lower-class children are sent to public schools.
In the extreme, middle and lower-class education should be about apprenticeship, NOT about social contacts to be “milked” later in life. The skills needed to work as a day labourer, electrician, or engineer should be taught. Working in a group, rote learning, and obedience are paramount. People-management, wealth management, creativity, and risk taking are (ideally) discouraged.
After an education, the lower classes should work nine-to-five jobs until they retire at age 60 and move to Florida, where they can play golf, drink, and smoke for the rest of their retirement.
Marriage takes place along caste lines. Middle-class people tend to marry middle-class people, and lower-class people tend to marry lower-class people.
People in the lower classes mistrust the ruling class. Due to circumstances and choice they DON’T socialize with people in the ruling class.
Not ever having worked in management, people in the lower classes don’t understand how management decisions are made; they mistrust and misunderstand their managers’ decisions partly due to justified paranoia and their lack of experience in the role.
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GENETIC MODIFICATION THROUGH BREEDING In the 1800’s, British nobility were concerned with “blue blood” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nobility#.22Blue.22_blood), the concept of eugenics applied to nobility (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eugenics). Wealth inheritance also played its part. By the late 1950’s the concept had been dropped along with the decline of the British aristocracy. Imagine what would happen to a society of “Homo Gattaca” where “Social modification through social caste” (see above) lasted 500 years, or 15 generations:
“Homo Gattaca” might split into “Homo Gattaca Alpha”, the 5% of the population that is the ruling class, and “Homo Gattaca Beta”, the 95% of the population who are the lower classes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brave_new_world)
If people are allowed to be promoted and demoted between the Alphas and Betas, then DNA would be self-selected. Alphas would be genetically disposed to be more-intelligent, people-management capable, creative, and risk takers. Conversely, Betas would be genetically disposed to be lessintelligent, group-workers, rote-learners, and followers.
If the society became obsessed with eugenics, the genetic discrepancy between Alphas and Betas would increase. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gattaca)
GENETIC MODIFICATION THROUGH STERILIZATION A eugenics-based society might sterilize “undesirables”:
Retarded children (and potentially their parents and siblings) would be sterilized. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compulsory_sterilization)
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Children with autism (as well as their parents and siblings) would be sterilized. The same might happen to people with Asperger Syndrome. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autism) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome) Such sterilization might lead to a decline in engineers, mathematicians, and other technical professions. For an inverse example, see this article about the increase in autism in Silicon Valley, a community with a high percentage of engineers. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/2192611.stm)
Criminals and dissidents would be sterilized.
Betas that try to act like alphas (aka: be independent, creative, and risk takers), but who aren’t intelligent enough to be alphas, might be sterilized.
Alphas that aren’t genetically capable of partaking in the ruling class might only be allowed to marry Betas. Or, the Alphas might be sterilized so their genes for intelligence, independences, creativity, and risk taking wouldn’t end up in the Beta population.
GENETIC MODIFICATION THROUGH DNA CUSTOMIZ ATION Technology could accelerate the genetic differentiation, as per Gattaca. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gattaca)
Wealthy ruling-class parents (Alphas) could preselect embryos (or modify their children’s DNA), targeting intelligence, people-management, creativity, and risk taking.
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November 12, 2011 Once Betas have been assigned a profession (through aptitude tests), their DNA might be modified somewhat to improve their efficiency. Modification might include changes to their personality, particularly important for people assigned to the military.
In the extreme, DNA replacement to idealized templates for day labourers, electricians, and engineers could be applied using the “Homo Sapiens Alienii” methodology. For example: All electricians would become genetic clones of “the best electrician ever” as part of their apprenticeship.
PUNISHMENTS, FROM CHILDHOOD THROUGH ADULTHOOD In 1800’s England, “Spare the rod and spoil the child” was the motto. In other words: 1.
The first time a child misbehaved, they would be told to stop it.
2.
The second time, they would be physically prevented from troublesome behaviour.
3.
The third time, the child would be slapped.
4.
And the fourth time, the child would be caned.
Compare this to contemporary first-world techniques for disciplining children: 1.
The first time, the child is told to stop it.
2.
The second time, the child is physically prevented from the troublesome behaviour and receives an explanation about why they shouldn’t do it... “Because if you push Johnny, he won’t like you.”
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November 12, 2011 3.
After that, the child receives a one minute time-out per year of age.
Disciplining theory continues through adulthood:
Contemporary employees who are troublesome receive many warnings before being fired. Two hundred years ago, they might have been fired immediately.
Contemporary criminals receive prison sentences whose duration increases with offenses. Two hundred years ago, criminals were shipped off to Australia for petty theft.
Imagine...
Imagine a society whose disciplining techniques modelled 19th century Britain.
Telepathy bots could read people’s minds and ferret out people with undesirable thoughts.
Spy bots could watch “trouble-makers”.
Telepathy bots could be used to “imperius curse” trouble-makers into submission.
Kill bots could provide more-severe physical punishments.
Kill bots could also “silently” execute trouble-makers that the ruling class dislike.
Imagine 1984. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nineteen_Eighty-Four)
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Combine the punishment regime with social caste, selective breeding, sterilization, and DNA customization.
The net result is an oppressive metaorganism more oppressive than Stalinism and East Germany because of (a) the technology, and (b) people are genetically modified to accept the oppression.
HOW PEOPLE’S THINKING IS CHANGED BY BECOMING HOMO GATTACA In such a society...
No one is going to “make waves” because (a) they’ll be severely punished, and (b) any “wave making” DNA that existed would have been bred/culled out a few generations back.
Artists that try to spread messages or create new ideas are quashed.
People who “invent or understand” by wild experimentation disappear. (See below.)
Betas, designed to be followers and workers, might end up having an impaired “theory of mind”, perhaps to teenager level.
As autism is eliminated from the gene pool, followed by Asperger Syndrome, so are mathematicians and engineers.
No mathematicians means that the population is incapable of “inventing and understanding” based on first principles. (See below.)
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November 12, 2011 No (or few) engineers means that the population finds any technicallyoriented invention to be difficult.
Homo Sapiens who like science fiction and fantasy tend to be “geeks”, who are on the Asperger and engineering side of the autism spectrum. As the “geek” population is reduced, the cultural urge to enter “strange new worlds” disappears.
Contemporary main-stream Homo Sapiens find it difficult to understand people with Asperger/engineering Syndrome, labelling them “geeks” and “nerds”. The opposite end of the autism spectrum, “artsy” people, are labelled “weirdos” and “hippies”. Many non-hominid races have thought processes and behaviours that are radically different than main-stream hominid behaviours. If main-stream hominids aren’t “forced” to learn how to endure “geeks” and “weirdos”, how will strange will they find other races? Xenophobia is inevitable.
I want to comment about “invention” and the ways someone can creatively come up with an invention. As an example: How could the Wright Brothers have invented the airplane?
Assimilation – The invention is copied in its entirety. No creativity is required. The ability to discern a useful invention from a less-useful invention is important... The primary task when assimilating airplanes is: Does existing airplane “A” fly better than existing airplane “B”?
Evolution – An existing invention is modified with an incremental change. If the incrementally-changed invention works better, the increment is kept. In terms of airplanes: If an airplane with two wings flies, does one with three wings fly better? Evolution has a high success rate, but often runs into “dead ends”; you can’t get to a UFO design from an airplane.
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November 12, 2011 Japanese corporations are known users of “evolution” applied to invention; as a cliché, they perfect technology invented elsewhere. 50% (?) of Homo Sapiens use evolution as an invention tool.
Wild experimentation – The inventor puts two completely different ideas together to create the invention. For example: Combine a helicopter and an airplane to produce a gyrocopter, or spoon and a fork to create a spork... the bane of fast-food restaurants everywhere. Wild experimentation has a very-high failure rate. Only 5% (?) of Homo Sapiens try “wild experimentation”.
First principles – The inventor understands the laws of physics and exact requirements for the invention. The invention of flight proceeds from there, without any prior examples of flying machines. Mathematicians rely on “first principles” to prove theorems. “First principles” inventing requires intelligence and knowledge, and is something that only 1% (or fewer) of Homo Sapiens can do well.
Other techniques – Other invention techniques exist.
Someone’s understanding of the world can follow an analogous path:
Assimilation – People are taught that dropped objects fall to the ground. From then on, they assume that all dropped objects fall to the ground under all circumstances. When they find an example of a dropped object not falling, such as an airplane, their world is turned upside down. Similarly, when such people read this document, they will reject any new ideas as utterly false, or just ignore the ideas and get on with their 20 th-century lives.
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Evolution – When someone observes that airplanes don’t plummet to the ground, they modify the “rules” lexicon in their head to deal with airplanes: “All dropped objects fall unless they have wings.”
Wild experimentation – If airplanes don’t fall, “wild experimenters” add many “random” rules to their brain-lexicon: “All dropped objects fall unless they have wings”, “All dropped objects fall unless they have an engine”, “Airplanes defy the laws of gravity because of magic”, and “Airplanes are really UFOs in disguise”. Most rules are eventually eliminated from the person’s rules-lexicon as observation shows them to be true or false.
First principles – If airplanes don’t fall, then the rule, “All dropped objects fall” must be reconsidered and reworded, perhaps by using thoughtexperiments and building new rules from first principles.
Other techniques – Other learning/understanding techniques exist.
Over time, a hypothetical “Homo Gattaca” society produces people who are only capable of assimilation and evolution. In the extreme, they are only capable of assimilation.
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HOMO GATTACA EMPIRE
EXTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism + assimilation + xenophobia (leads to) -> War with other non-Hominid races (leads to) -> Strong military-industrial complex (leads to) -> Homo Gattaca military chaebol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaebol)
EXTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism + time + bad luck (leads to) -> INTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism
thus...
EXTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism + assimilation + xenophobia (leads to) -> INTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism + assimilation + xenophobia = Homo Gattaca empire
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UNRAVELLING THE GORDIAN KNOT Some important concepts to consider:
Sigma function – This is a function whose value flips from 0 to 1 instantly at an x value of 0. Mathematically: sigma(x) = 0 if (x < 0), or 1 if (x >= 0).
Switch “debounce” – Flipping a light switch on is a sigma function, since the light goes from “off” to “on”. If an oscilloscope is connected to the switch, and the power passing through the switch is monitored, you’ll notice that the light never goes instantaneously from “off” to “on”. Instead, when a switch is flipped from “off” to “on”, there is a period of a few milliseconds where the power flow fluctuates “randomly”. During that time, electromagnetic radiation is also produced by the switching mechanism. In other words, sigma functions don’t just go from 0 to 1 instantaneously. For values of x near 0, sigma(x) = “random”. Not only that, for x near 0, sigma(x) = MULTIDIMENSIONALLY random, even though the sigma function is supposed to be a single-dimensional value. For x near 0, sigma(x) * large amounts of energy = an infinite improbability drive. (See the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitchhiker%27s_guide_to_the_galaxy).
“The straw that broke the camel’s back” – This ancient riddle/question states: If a camel is sitting down and loaded with 1000 kg of straw, it will stubbornly stand up and its back will break. Loaded with 100 kg of straw, the camel’s back won’t break. Backs are either broken or not broken. Therefore, there MUST be a point someplace between 100 kg and 1000 kg where the camel’s back suddenly snaps... and therefore, a single 1 gram straw is
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November 12, 2011 responsible for breaking the camel’s back. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Straw_that_broke_the_camel%27s_back) In other words, “The straw that broke the camel’s back” is a sigma(x) function, where x is the number of grams of straw. Which means: No single, incremental straw breaks the camel’s back. Near the sigma(x) jump-up, sigma(x) produces a multidimensional value, so adding more straws might actually fix the camel’s back (as per a chiropractor), not make it worse. Adding a few more straws might turn the camel into a whale or bowl of petunias, a low-probability extradimensional result, as per The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. If a couple more straws are added, sigma(x) returns to a single-dimensional value of 1, and the camel’s back will be broken.
The Gordian Knot – In the legend of the Gordian Knot, some ancient hero is presented with a tangle of a knot that he must untie in order to marry some ancient princess. No-one had ever been able to untie the knot before him. His solution? Take out his sword and slice the knot in half. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordian_knot) Untying the Gordian Knot is a long drawn-out process that would have taken the hero many years, and quite a few tedious stanzas of poetry. Cutting the Gordian Knot is a sigma function, and like any good Infinite Improbability Drive, won him a bride, as well as an extradimensional effect of everlasting fame in ancient mythology. (Fortunately for him, the hero was neither turned into, nor eaten by a whale.)
A randomly deep thought A moral dilemma: 1768 | P a g e
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“Cut” the Gordian Knot of the Homo Gattaca Empire – In other words, “nuke it from orbit” and risk all sorts of strange and violent extradimensional effects like the deaths of billions of people, and the creation of wars 1000 years in the future.
Unravel the oppresive metaogranism of the Homo Gattaca Empire slowly – At the “inconvenience” of sub-empires and planets within those sub-empires.
What are the “cracks” inbetween? – Other solutions exist between these two extremes. Finding better solutions requires time, experience, intelligence, creativity, and knowledge.
THE BORG-IFICATION OF A RACE If the Gordian Knot cannot be unravelled:
INTERNALLY oppressive metaorganism + assimilation + xenophobia + time + bad luck (leads to) -> The Borg (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borg)
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Mythologically, “aliens” usually talk to contactees about peace and love, or terrorize them with anal probes. In my case, they complained about my inadequate house cleaning. And now they’re telling me to do my taxes; God damn aliens.
FOOD AN INTELLIGENCE TEST Some thoughts about food and intelligence:
The next time you stop by the supermarket, look at the person next to you and guess how intelligent/educated they are. Then, look at the contents of their shopping cart. Enough said.
It is well known that long-term malnutrition affects intelligence, or at least the ability for malnourished children to learn.
HOW TO EAT INTELLIGENTLY, SO YOU DON’T BECOME MALNOURISHED AND RED UCE YOUR INTELLIGENCE 1770 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How to eat unintelligently and malnourish yourself:
Purchase (and eat) the cheapest food brands in the supermarket.
Purchase (and eat) pre-made frozen meals.
Eat lots of fast food. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supersize_me)
Conversely, thoughts about food nutrition: (Consult your physician before believing them.)
Eat the highest nutrition foods that have the least amount of carbohydrates, fat, protein, and sugar... unless you specifically have cravings for carbohydrates, fat, protein, and sugar. Carbohydrates, fat, protein, and sugar are necessary and cannot be eliminated from your diet, just reduced. As a general rule: white wheat flour, white rice, white potatoes, massproduced poorly-fed chicken, purified cane sugar, and soft drinks are all questionable. As a general rule: Fresh foods have more nutrition than preserved, canned, and frozen foods.
Imagine breaking a food item up into its constituent parts. Do most of the parts taste good individually? If not, then don’t include the ingredients in the recipe, or cook a different recipe.
For example: Chocolate brownies are made from flour, purified cane sugar, eggs, butter, chocolate, and a small amount of leavening agent. Flour, by itself, is tasteless. A stick of butter and purified cane sugar don’t sound too 1771 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 appetizing either. Perhaps eating a dark-chocolate omelette would be better? (Having said that, chocolate brownies are still one of my favourites.)
Eat (or pick on) what you have a craving for, so long as that craving doesn’t lead to poor nutrition. Only eat when hungry, and only eat to the point of being “satisfied”, not “full” or “stuffed”
Purchase the most expensive brands of a food item that you can, and eat LESS (by weight) of the food. Why? The more expensive brands (usually) have more nutrition per weight. For example: If you have a craving for ice cream, don’t purchase the cheap stuff with 30% cream and 70% sugar and fluff. Buy the spoon-bending 60%cream ice-cream and eat half as much.
Remember Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs) 1.
Above all else, ensure that you don’t find yourself in a neutron star. Your life expectancy will be around a femptosecond.
2.
Never be without oxygen for more than 60 seconds... which means that clean air is very important.
3.
Never go more than 24 hours without sleep.
4.
Never go more than a few days without water... which means that clean water, uncontaminated by soft drinks and alcohol, is important.
5.
Never go more than a few weeks without food... which means quality food is more important than a large-screen TV.
6.
Etcetera
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A randomly deep thought The word “twinking” has been added to the galactic eigen-language.
NIFTY BIOLOGICAL FEATURES (PART 1)
Pouches (macropod and saurian) are handy for carrying pens and pencils. Unfortunately, erasers tend to get lost in them.
The white/light skin on the faces of some lizard-evolved races is a convenient canvas for painted body decorations.
Guenon-evolved races enjoy stringing their beard-hairs with beads. Orange and black are particularly-obnoxious colours.
White fur is good for dyes.
“Wings” (aka: sails) on drunk Dimetrodon-evolved people make excellent laundry racks.
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November 12, 2011 The ability to eat mussels whole, digest them, and regurgitate the shells is convenient. There is no need to boil them, and/or crack the shells open. However, having mussels open and then “bite” your stomach lining is unpleasant.
Some saurians paint their “wings” (the skin between their arms and hips/legs, and legs and tail) with body decorations.
Saurian “wings” combined with antigravity bracelets make for easy skydiving.
Ear-shaping, pointy or rounded.
Self-replacing teeth.
A deeply random thought Revised colors of the rainbow:
Deep red – Somewhat infrared.
Red-orange
Yellow
Cyan
Indigo
Violet
Lemon tart – This color looks like a pale, slightly-greeny version of the
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November 12, 2011 yellow in artificial lemon pudding. (http://bennettsbakery.com/lemon_tart.JPG)
Blorple – This color looks like a combination of blue and purple, but not quite.
Ultraviolet maroon
Ultraviolet teal (?)
UN-NIFTY BIOLOGICAL FEATURES (PART 1)
Saurians often have to shave proto-feathers
Or, Saurians can get their proto-feathers plucked... which uncomfortable for the plucked, and the plucker... who receives several hours of verbal abuse during the process.
Many races need to use an “angle grinder” to grind-down their nails to “the quick”. Homo Sapiens’ “tear off” nails are much more convenient.
Fur requires copious amounts of “body wash”.
Long tails drag on the ground, requiring tail holders.
Some tails are docked on young children so they don’t need tail-holders when they’re older.
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November 12, 2011 Saurian “wings” are often trimmed, enabling more limb mobility and better clothing styles.
Some saurian children have feather-fingers amputated at an end-knuckle.
Fancy-dress parties require that some lizard-evolved races “wax” their “scales”.
Furred people who sit too much have fur worn off their bums.
Diarrhoea from “pinky” children is difficult to clean out of your pouch.
Arthropod-evolved people sometimes have “grumpy” legs.
A deeply random thought Alieny – Someone who prefers to interact with people of substantially different races.
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3-YEAR-OLD HOMINID EMPIRE SIMPLE “BUSINESS MOD EL” FOR A 3-YEAR-OLD’S EMPIRE From earlier, the hypothetical Homo Gattaca empire (in a galaxy far far away) has the following problems:
Little creativity – It is a society based on the assimilation of technology, not invention. The society is xenophobic. The society is a dictatorship. It is a society based on war.
Simplistically put, such an empire would have the following “business model”, similar to Spain’s colonization of the Americas: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_empire) 1.
2.
3.
Invade and control planets of “primitives” (or in the case of Spain, central and south America) o
Kill off many of the “primitives”
o
Control the rest
Extract resources from the conquered territories: o
Extract finite resources (existing wealth such as Aztec gold, mining, forestry, slavery)
o
Extract sustainable resources (some forestry, agriculture, slavery) using settlers and enslaved indigenous peoples.
Sell most of the extracted resources to third parties
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4.
5.
6.
o
Use the funds to purchase (or build) invasion equipment (weapons and spaceships), “primitive”-control equipment (various bots), mining equipment from third parties. Use this equipment to further expand the Empire.
o
Over time, the Empire’s economy might outsource non-core production; towards the end of the empire, mining equipment would certainly be imported, not made. Most weapons and spaceships would be imported. Even some “primitive”-control equipment might be imported.
The empire would not be able to purchase some of the illegal products that it needs, so it would have to invent and manufacture them: o
Telepathy bots and kill bots used to enslave planets and control local populations might be invented and manufactured by the empire.
o
Nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons might also be produced within the empire.
Settlers would move from the Empire’s core planets into the occupied planets. Settlers are more-independent and risk takers, gradually siphoning their genetics and culture from the core Empire. Repeat.
If the Empire were run by 3-year-old children:
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November 12, 2011 1. Invading planets, killing off “primitives”, “controlling” them, stealing resources from the “primitives”, and selling the “primitives” as slaves is is illegal, or at least intensely disliked. A 3-year-old Empire could be conned and/or coaxed into this behaviour because its leaders wouldn’t know any better, particularly if they were already xenophobic and at war with many other races. 2.
4-year-old nations might intentionally (or unintentionally) convince/coax the empire to invade planets. 4-year-old nations would purchase tainted resources from the Empire, as well as some slaves. The tainted resources would be mixed with more-expensively acquired legal resources produced by the 4-year-old trading nations, and “washed” of their taint. (For an example on Earth, see “illegal logging”: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illegal_logging)
3.
Other nations (4 or 5-year-old) would transport the goods, further hiding the taint.
4.
5-year-old nations (and above) would purchase the less-tainted resources without feeling guilty.
5.
Other 4-year-old nations might sell mining and military equipment to the “rogue” 3-year-old Empire, enabling future expansion. Scales of manufacturing, as well as temporary low-balling of equipment pricing, could encourage the 3-year-old Empire to outsource its mining and military equipment, simplifying the 3-year-old’s economy.
6.
If not very bright, the 3-year-old Empire would be left with a bare-bones economy based on illegal endeavours (invasion, enslaving, stealing
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November 12, 2011 resource, selling slaves). The 4-year olds would be less-legally liable, providing the 3-year-old Empire with mining equipment, military equipment, and transportation. The 5-year-olds would benefit from the cheaper resources.
A randomly deep thought First contact, lesson #782: Never taunt a monkey simian-evolved person.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simian
UNTYING THE 3-YEAR-OLD’S GORDIAN KNOT Older nations would try to untie the Empire’s Gordian knot by:
Talking to the metaorganism
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November 12, 2011 o Meet with their leadership and explain to them that they were headed into trouble. This would be a difficult task for a xenophobic empire. Analogous (but still different) are the attempts by Earth nations to convince North Korea (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_korea) to “open up” and stop producing nuclear weapons and missiles. o o
Elder races might attempt mass-media messages, particularly tricky if media were censored. Elder races would meet individually with influential people who could then communicate with other people in the society, which is a lot of work.
Nations would try to “starve” the metaorganism: o
Try to prevent the sale of illegal goods
o
Prevent goods from entering empire (tricky)
o
Prevent further expansion
o
Retake invaded planets
Other approaches would be used to undo the Borg-ification of the race. o
Teach the metaorganism valuable lessons about what it had done (aka: history books)
o
Change the culture (thinking) of the metaorganism
o
Roll-back technology a few hundred years, much as the Roman Empire was “rolled back” to the dark ages.
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November 12, 2011 o Change the genetics of the population.
THE EMPIRE PREVENTS ITSELF FROM COLLAPSING The hypothetical empire would need to find solutions for the following problems:
Counteract a skills and loyal-labour shortage o
Citizens that didn’t wish to partake in Empire-building would move to the provinces (invaded planets), or emigrate to other nations (non-Hominid?).
o
The 3-year-old empire would gradually lose creativity, science skills, and manufacturing skills.
o
The Roman Empire eventually encountered problems when it didn’t have enough Roman citizens (and then “Italians”) to populate the military. The empire eventually recruited people from the provinces, leading to less-loyal troops, and speeding up the Empire’s decline. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_citizenship)
Prevent the Gordian Knot being untied by the elder races in a way that was detrimental to the empire.
To solve the skills and labour shortage: 1782 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The empire would assimilate Hominid populations from other planets:
o
“Disclosed” Hominid planets would be assimilated into the empire using a process of trade agreements, then treaties, and then merging them into the Empire.
o
When the supply of disclosed planets was “used up”, “undisclosed” Hominid planets would be incorporated as serfs. Disclosure would occur over generations, beginning with the wealthiest, and providing time for the Empire’s culture to be imposed on the undisclosed societies.
Non-Hominid populations would be incorporated when Hominid planets were “used up”, preferably with Hominid-looking and Hominid-personality races. This would be analogous to the Roman Empire recruiting Germans from the provinces.
To prevent the Gordian Knot from being detrimentally untied by the elder races:
The Empire would invade more incubator planets. o
When the local supply of incubator planets was used up, planets in neighbouring Galaxies would be invaded.
Attempts would be made to transform the economy: o
In addition to an “invasion and resource extraction” economy, the Empire would try to diversify into invention and manufacturing.
o
On Earth, large corporations prefer to acquire skills and technologies by merging with corporations rather than spending years building their own skill set. Hominid planets with the required skills would be assimilated.
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The Empire would try to go pan-galactic: o
Hominids may have simultaneously been evolved in 5-10 galaxies. Other Hominid planets and empires would be incorporated as they were discovered.
o
Just as Earth’s corporations prefer to be multinational, having an Empire spread out over several galaxies would make the Empire more difficult to regulate by the larger galactic political structures. In other words, being pan-galactic would make it more difficult for elder races to untie the Gordian Knot.
A randomly deep thought Tazzy ice-cream:
Quality New Zealand vanilla ice-cream
Shredded genuine Tasmanian chedder cheese, to taste
Ground cinnamon, to taste
Cracked pepper, to taste
Mix
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EARTH Earth would be an ideal target for a pan-galactic Hominid empire:
Earth has reasonable skills and technology, but is “starved” of space travel because it hasn’t been “disclosed” to. The population has skills not common to an “invasion and resource extraction” Empire, such as manufacturing, invention, etc.
The Earth has a large population: o
The large population would be useful for manufacturing.
o
The large population would provide military recruits loyal to the empire, particularly if the Earth were attacked by the Empire’s enemies.
o
Unfortunately, incorporating such a large population would make Earth a powerful part of the Empire’s political system, weakening the current leadership. Leaving the Earth an “undisclosed” serfplanet would solve this, somewhat similar to the British Empire’s treatment of the American colonies.
Earth is conveniently located at the centre of an incubation site in another galaxy.
Earth is resource rich because it isn’t just a two-continent planet.
Unfortunately, for Earth’s population, this would lead to: 1785 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A delay in disclosure.
Earth’s population being incorporated into the Empire’s oppressive metaorganism.
Potential war as other races tried to prevent the Empire from expanding, and from oppressing Earth’s indigenous inhabitants with an oppressive metaorganism.
A randomly deep thought Bizarre accidents: From http://www.cheapercarinsurance.com/news/neglecting-automobile-safetycould-result-in-bizarre-accidents/: We all know that auto accidents can happen every day. While some accidents are unavoidable, the majority of them can be prevented simply by using automobile safety. You may have heard about the recent incident where a woman caused an accident as a result of shaving her unmentionable areas. Here we find six unusual causes of auto accidents that occurred from not taking precaution on the road. ... 6. UFO Sightings- Believe it or not, some drivers have claimed they crashed as a result of sighting an unidentified flying object. In a few such cases, drivers have actually reported having no control over the vehicle during the paranormal experience. Of course, there has been no substantial evidence to prove this. Automobile safety precautions for such a situation? Be prepared for anything when you are driving, including flying saucers.
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STRANGE THINGS THAT NON-HOMINID CHILDREN DO (PART 1)
Arthropod children impale their heads with pens and pencils. To treat, use an eraser to temporarily plug up the hole. Such incidences are common, and not a problem unless the child’s head becomes infected.
Arthropod children shove small toys in their spiracles. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiracle)
Carnivore-evolved children bite their friend’s tails off for fun. And/or, they intentionally and cooperatively scar their friends with cool patterns that last a lifetime.
Carnivore-evolved children sometimes get into fights and bite through the leg and arm muscles of their friends.
Arthropod children enjoy being painted with brilliant colours. So do their parents. Gluing metallic sparkles onto them is also fun.
Some fly-evolved children “light up” when excited. Night-time hide-andseek is challenging.
“Grey” child have been known to swallow children’s scissors, carefully pilfered from top-secret US military bases.
Luckily, crayons can be washed off of “light walls”.
Shark-evolved children have their teeth dulled so their “love bites” don’t leave scars. 1787 | P a g e
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First feathers are often extra-colourful and good keepsakes.
Smilodon-evolved children have nasty claws/nails, often employing them as pitons to scale your back.
Some arthropod children climb onto parents’ horizontal backs and won’t let go. Parent’s arms can’t reach behind and pull off the children, so dislodging children often require a broom.
Some children eat their diapers.
Little girls often fill their pouches with sand when visiting the beach. This embarrassingly makes them look pregnant.
Ant-evolved children produce a “resin” that can be moulded into a sculpture, left to harden, and given to their grandparents as a present.
Clawed children sometimes climb high into trees and then can’t get down. Naturally, their “friends” encourage them to jump.
Children jump out of pouches, “Alien” like, during important corporate meetings. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film)#Chestburster )
Arthropod-evolved children sometimes pull off their little brother’s legs. A bit of “leg glue” usually works.
Elotians paint their walls white so their children disappear; not to mention all the hidden pantries and cupboards they can hide in... or be locked in.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Imagine a jigsaw puzzle with (a) missing pieces, (b) extra pieces, and (c) the majority of pieces fitting so poorly that if the jigsaw puzzle were put together it would topographically resemble the Hymalayas. Said jigsaw puzzle represents reality.
A typical Homo Sapiens will find the Hymalayan topography and erroneous pieces to be too daunting. They will slowly put together a small corner of the puzzle and give up.
Other Homo Sapiens will try to put the entire jigsaw puzzle together and deal with the cardboard mountains (and missing puzzles) by bashing the puzzle flat with their fists.
I just arrange the puzzle pieces in their approximate locations; I don’t bother putting the puzzle together any further.
(People formerly known as) greys will quickly assemble a mostly-flat corner of the puzzle. When they want to see the image in the centre they will disassemble the corner, and quickly assemble a mostly-flat center of the puzzle.
MORE NASTY WEAPONS (PART 1) PERSONAL WEAPONS
Pellet guns and zip guns – Variations on pistols, rifles, and machine guns, but with an extradimensional twist.
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November 12, 2011 Extradimensional strap-on weapons – These weapons are extradimensionally attached to people’s skeletons. They are invisible, and can fire a variety of projectiles and energy beams. Telekinesis models exist, but are only useful for opening doors; they cannot be used to lift spaceships out of Dagobah. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Empire_strikes_back, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dagobah)
Molecular-disruptor blades (very advanced “tech”) – These “blades” cleanly split molecules apart. Molecular-disruptor blades are not nearly as cool looking as their fictional movie versions, light-sabres. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lightsaber) Disruptor blades are particularly deadly when combined with time bending. (See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrt41Ziz71c&feature=related for a videoed example of time bending.)
BOMBS
Neutron bombs (eyeballs) – Sometimes as small as peas (single-victim neutron bombs), these bombs emit a neutron-like particle that travels 1m – 500m before morphing into a proton. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neutron_bomb) When a neutron-like particle morphs into a proton while in flesh, the proton often breaks apart a protein, lipid, DNA, etc. Bones can turn to pure calcium and crumble. People die within a few hours to weeks, or later develop severe cancers. Being hit by a neutron bomb feels like being sanded (at best), or having severe sunburn inside your entire body.
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November 12, 2011 If enough neutron bombs are detonated on a planet, a chain-reaction may be started that turns much of atmosphere’s hydrogen (in the atmosphere’s water vapour) into helium, killing off life.
Floating neutron bombs – Drop hundreds of them extradimensionally from a bot or UFO, and they float towards targets... detonating when they reach someone’s body.
Efficient nukes – These golf-ball sized nukes don’t produce a fireball (heat) or much radiation. Instead, their energy produces a blast zone and extradimensional displacement. Sizes range from one kiloton and up.
Reality bombs (very advanced “tech”) – They “change” the laws of physics in an area.
Exploding UFOs – Extradimensional shrapnel, particularly extradimensional engine blocks, can slice through or embed in flesh. A detonated power plant might produce a neutron-bomb-like detonation.
MORE BOTS
Industrial bots – Created to build extradimensional UFOs and other large objects, these bots can be used to crush bone and/or rake bits of metal (placed by implant bots) through someone’s flesh/brain, killing them.
Exploding implants – Implant bots can place exploding implants in peoples’ brains and/or hearts; they explode immediately upon extradimensionally settling, or via remote control. Death often follows.
Venom bots – These inject various poisons and toxins, either using small bullets or extradimensional sprays. Toxins that rapidly kill (or “freeze”)
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November 12, 2011 neurons (aka: someone’s brain), as well as those affecting peoples’ cardiovascular system, are popular.
Military bots – Hovering extradimensional bots with an array of weapons.
Crawlers – Remote-controlled extradimensional military robots that “walk”.
CYBORGS
Walkers – An extradimensional robotic framework with an array of weapons. The robot is controlled by a person whose limbs (arms and legs) and lower torso are removed, and “stored” in a hardened encounter suit that is part of the framework. More-advanced walkers can bend time, enabling them to move and attack at incredible speeds.
A randomly deep thought Being of sound mind and body: In the event that my awareness is moved into a new body, I hereby will my estates and monies to said body. Until said body appears to claim the estate and monies, an approved executor shall keep my estate and monies in escrow. The body will take the form of an intelligent wedge of cerulean-blue jello, a humanoid dasyurid, a saurian evolved from a velociraptor, a echidna-pus (humanoid echidna/platypus), or any other race. A perscribed password will be spoken or written by said body to verify my 1792 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 awareness’ presence. The password will definitely NOT be “perrywinkle”. ... Wills get a bit complicated.
STRANGE THINGS THAT NON-HOMINID CHILDREN DO (PART 2)
Velociraptor-evolved children sometimes wake up with cracked-apart pencils in their mouths... their friends claiming that they chewed the pencil to bits while they slept.
Some insect-evolved children paint their faceted eyes with coloured shapes so they see the shapes overlaid on their vision for the next few months; they only do this once.
Saurian children eat the fleshy parts of each other’s proto-feathers; apparently different colours taste slightly different. Children without the fleshy bits are named, “spikes”, for the next few months.
“Grey” children find it very easy to impale pens into their eyeballs.
Never get your tail stuck in a tail hole (a notch on the back seats of school chairs).
Velociraptor-evolved teenagers have venomous toes. Sucking the venom from one’s own toe has little effect. However, if two teenagers have sufficient genetic differences, they can become ill on each other’s venom...
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November 12, 2011 Creating toe-venom contests. Who can withstand their “enemy’s” venom the longest, thereby becoming the most macho?
Velociraptor-evolved mothers tap their venom toe on slate to subtly indicate to their children that their children are in BIG trouble.
A deeply random thought Ever have that strange feeling of having your awareness experience several different timelines at once? Deja vu. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C3%A9j%C3%A0_vu)
METAORGANISMS (PART 2)
Some thoughts about metaorganism from a galaxy-design perspective:
Increasing an individual’s intelligence is a well-known process.
Increasing a species’ intelligence is a well-known process, though more difficult than increasing an individual’s intelligence.
Giving a UFO to an individual is trivial.
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Given one billion years of history, most low-tech technology (like extradimensional UFOs) has been created before. Giving (or hinting) UFO construction technology to a civilization is more difficult than handing out UFOs, but is a well-known process.
What is NOT well-known is:
How to increase the intelligence of “new” species without turning them into bastards.
How to produce civilizations that can invent useful technology that is more beneficial to the galaxy than harmful.
Also challenging is how to cultivate a society’s metaorganism so that the metaorganism doesn’t: o
Turn oppressive.
o
“Dissolve” on contact with the larger galactic society.
o
Go “insane” and completely change character when new technologies like UFOs and genetic manipulation are introduced.
o
Become xenophobic and/or lifelong enemies of another race.
The first two attempts at creating intelligent hominids had major failures in the “not well-known” category. This third attempt, over the last 150,000 years, is presenting its own challenges. Hominids aren’t the only troublesome 3-year-old race. 1795 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Are dreams an artefact of your brain inventing a new reality, your detached soul being temporarily attached to a different body (on another planet), or your awareness being temporarily attached to a different body and/or physics?
TARDIS UFOS (WITHOUT THE TIME TRAVEL) For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis
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November 12, 2011
DREAMS For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
TEST DREAMS WARNING DREAMS DREAMS OF OTHER PLANETS TEACHING DREAMS AWARENESS DREAMS
USING FRIENDSHIPS TO HELP KEEP THE PEACE For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. Reconciliation technique
INTERSTELLAR “UNITED NATIONS” ON EARTH? For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
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November 12, 2011
MARS For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
ROYALTY AND ARISTOCRACIES, DICTATORSHIPS , REPUBLICS/DEMOCRACIE S For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
ENCOUNTER SUITS (PART 2) For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
LEGAL COMPLICATIONS For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. o
UN refugees
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November 12, 2011 o Holiday visas o Citizenship o Marriage o Toilets o Child car seats o Car seats o “Aliens” who have been living invisibly (extradimensionally or incognito) on Earth for long enough to be a citizen o “Aliens” born above the United States of America o Automobile seats o Imported automobiles o UFO licensing o Blurry line between intelligent people and animals o What country is extradimensional land in? o Exporting flora and fauna off planet o Etc.
VISION AUGMENTATION For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
Better colour vision Better night vision Smooth colours – FFT/wavelet of colour spectrum Infrared and ultraviolet “X-ray” vision – not quite Telemetry on extradimensional objects
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BRAIN AUGMENTATION For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
Implants o Communication o Knowledge o Personalities o Speech/language Brain transplants Speed up nerve transmission times Protection from bleeding to death
SENSORY AUGMENTATION For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
Improved smell (Highly NOT recommended, especially for bachelors who don’t do their dishes) Improved taste Poisons/toxins warnings Improved hearing Sense extradimensional objects
MUSCLE AND SKELETON AUGMENTATION 1800 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
Change the shape of skeletons Protection from nerve damage Prevent/minimize heart attacks
WANDERERS AND NON-CORPOREALS For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
Including wanderers that look like animals (half way between croc and alligator, lionlike, horse-like, etc.)
COLOUR THEORY For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. Sharp/smooth colours – Fourier transform of spectrum, kind of 1801 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PLANET FORMATION – NON-ACCRETION THEORY For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. Stellar collisions or super nova?
CROSS-SPECIES BREEDING For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
HOW TO RUN A PAN-GALACTIC HOMINID EMPIRE http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_Roman_Empire
PLANETARY DEFENCE AND MONITORING INFRASTRUCTURE For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. 1802 | P a g e
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DIVERSITY OF GENETICS, PERSONALITIES, AND CULTURES (EXPERIMENT) For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
REJUVENATION TANKS For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up.
BODY SPLITTING For now, this section is left up to the reader to consider. I may eventually write something up. Extradimensionally slicing a three-dimensional body in two, for purposes of cloning or recovery of a not-yet-dead body for rejuvenation tanks.
FURTHER READING 1803 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This document continues in: http://www.disclosuree.com/TheNarrative.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory2.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory3.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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November 12, 2011
THE NARRATIVE
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 17 May 2010 Draft 2, 24 May 2010 Draft 3, 29 May 2010 Draft 4, 4 June 2010 Draft 5, 6 June 2010 Draft 6, 13 June 2010
Draft 7, 22 June 2010 Draft 8, 3 July 2010 Draft 9, 8 July 2010 Draft 10, 17 July 2010 Draft 11, 20 July 2010
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my article: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheReallyWierdStuff.pdf
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This is more of a “typical abductee document” than my previous documents… kind of.
JOURNAL ENTRY (8 DECEMBER, 2002) Modifications to the journal entry are italicized. I was volunteering at the zoo. Person-A drove me out to a backup property where they were keeping some antelope. They had a house by a river. I think Person-B was also there. In a previous dream (that I don't remember now, but I remembered when I was dreaming) I stayed there for a week watching the place. It was raining hard and there were storm clouds outside. I looked out the window and saw something strange... it looked like a large building amidst the cloud. PersonA and Person-B saw it too. (The scene kind of reminded me of Close Encounters of the 3d kind - with clouds all around the space ship) I ran outside and started waving towards the UFO. It landed near me, coming so close it almost hit me. A door (like you'd find on a flying skyscraper made of glass) was in front of me. I opened it and entered. I walked into something that reminded me of a diner. (It was actually the kitchenette of the UFO.) I waited in line and talked to someone that came to great me. They said they had been looking for me and were glad to find me. (They were human looking, but I kept trying to see through any illusion. I couldn't. I would later remember that they were black-and-white lemur-evolved.) They also mentioned that they had sent
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November 12, 2011 a diversionary ship to keep the RAF busy (actually, the off-planet Homo Sapiens) while they came down. While waiting in line I noticed that stars were flying past the window and we must be in space. (No stars were flying past.) Someone came up to me and said they'd have to do a mind blank so I wouldn't remember any of this. I said OK. I was thinking about having them look at the damaged area on my retina that I've always had, but which seems to be annoying me over the last few weeks. Interestingly, I didn't see any aliens on the ship. Also interesting: I was very eager to take a ride on the UFO. Most people wouldn't be so eager.
Some interesting observations about the “dream”:
The lemur-evolved woman was more afraid of me than I was of her.
I showed this text to a number of people, whom I had previously shown some UFO photographs I had taken. None of them put 2 +2 together and asked if I had been “abducted” any other times, which I had.
A deeply random thought “History is written by the victors.” Not quite… it’s also written by the people who manage to survive through at least part of the conflict, such as The Diary of Anne Frank. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Frank) 1807 | P a g e
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THE NIGHT BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) NO BRAIN, THE DRIVE DOWN THE HILL, AND WONDERLAND A combination of swine flu, kill bots, venom bots, and some other factors really damages one’s brain. I awoke after sunset, feeling like I was in a dream. Earlier in the day, I was told that a UFO would pick me up that night. All I had to do was drive down my hill and crash my car into a tree. I later discovered that the plan was to get me into a non-lethal accident so that someone would drive me to the hospital, where I would receive medical care. Having enough sense NOT to get in a car accident, I drove to the base of the hill, park on the side of the road, and began walking to the nearest open field where a UFO could use a claw to (extradimensionally) pick me up. On the way there, someone telepathically suggested that I pull off my pants and walk in the middle of the road in order to look crazy (or drunk). I had so little brain left that this sounded like a good idea, and I complied. While wandering insanely/drunkenly down the middle of the road, a car drove past me and didn’t stop. Without being rescued, I reached an open field. I stood there, waiting to get picked up. (I think) that while I was waiting, my baryons were rotated, pushing me half-way into a close layer that I call “wonderland”. Colours are slightly different – more purple and
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November 12, 2011 more grey. It’s difficult to breathe due to low oxygen. Insect noises are louder, and different insects are audible. I was no longer sure if I was dead or alive.
“YOU’RE DEAD, MIKE. YOU’RE DEAD.” After waiting a few minutes in the empty field, I heard a telepathic voice: “You’re dead, Mike. You’re dead.” By that point, my mind had gone from a dream-like daze into one where I actually believed I could be dead. I didn’t know where I was. I looked around for my body but didn’t see one. I vaguely doubted my own death. In front of me, a dotted black line began to appear in the darkness of a wonderland night... or at least I think it began to appear. Someone said, “That’s the black line of death. Turn around and walk away from it.” Though I didn’t know it at the time, I would later learn that the dotted line was a ramp gateway materializing in front of me. If the gateway fully materialized, which it hadn’t, and I walked up it, I would have entered someone’s ship... No one knew if it was a crewed by friendlies or enemies. I walked away from the line, and a few minutes later the black-line of death appeared in front of my path. Once again, a “voice” said, “Go back. Do not walk on the black line of death.” Not wishing to die, while thinking that I could very well be dead, I veered away from the line and walked into the middle of a paddock. I had no idea where I was. It was nearly pitch black. Around this time, a voice said that “shade adders” were around. They existed in a reality between my own and the land of death. If I stepped on them, they would bite me and kill me instantly. 1809 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I imagined I could barely see them in the wonderland night. I’m not certain if they were visible. While wandering aimlessly for the next thirty minutes, I was occasionally informed when “shade adders” were nearby so I could avoid them. At some point I was told they were following me, ensuring that I couldn’t turn around and walk back into the world of the living. I could see the lights of a few UFOs flying overhead, searching for me. The ships were unable to materialize, and their pilots couldn’t find me because my “energy” was so low.
NEVER PLAY AN ARTHROPOD-INVENTED REAL-LIFE ADVENTURE GAME WHILE BRAIN DEAD “You are in the Elysium fields. You can walk straight ahead to a road, turn left on the road, and make it to Paradise, where you can return back to reality. Or, you can cross between the second and third wires of the barbed-wire fence to your right, and into Hades, where you can then cross the river Styx and return back to life.” Huh? I walked to the right, carefully counted to the proper gap between wires, and slid between them, puncturing my hands and back on the barbs. “Now that you are in Hades, all statements are negated. No “nots” is now a “not”, one “not” is a “not not”, and “not not” is “no nots”.” “To cross the river Styx, you should not not find Chiron near those bushes.” My brain found the double-negative adventure-game puzzle to be extremely taxing.
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November 12, 2011 I walked to the bushes but couldn’t find Chiron, or a boat. The river Styx was just a dry creek bed. It dawned on me that there should be water in the “river”, but that thought lasted around eight seconds, and I decided to wander up the dry creek bed for Chiron. “In front of you is a stick that you can not not push branches away with. To see the stick, open your third eye horizontally wide, and vertically narrow.” How do I do that? “Just think it to yourself.” I did so, and in front of me, I could see a dim blue-purple light over a stick. I picked up the adventure-game object. “You can not not use the stick to push aside the branches. You are only allowed to use any tool two times before you need to find a different tool.” I spent several hours wandering around trying to play the adventure game. The hints became easier and more numerous, but my brain failed so much that I couldn’t remember the telepathic sentence spoken only ten seconds before. After I wandered up and down the “river” Styx a few times, I asked about the lack of water. “Oh. [There’s no water? We can’t really tell.] You need to climb up the hill to open up the dam and let the river’s water flow, or you need to cast a magic spell to summon the water.” My brain began to think... Can I have see some documentation about how to play this game? “Uh, no. [We’re making it up as we go along, to try and get you back to civilization without getting in trouble with the Homo Sapiens empire.]” Eventually, I decided to stop playing the game and forge my own path. 1811 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At the top of the hill, I saw a house, shed, and farming machinery. I now thought I was 20-70 years in the future and that everyone had died in a nuclear war. It only took a few days of my time to make it out of Hades though. I stumbled up the hill. My foot had been sprained (actually broken) a few days before, but I didn’t feel the injury. Up top, I discovered a post-apocalyptic demountable walk-in chiller, entered, found a bottle of water, and drank thirstily. My neighbour walked out of his house and saw me come out of his chiller, without pants or shoes (which I had traded in for extra hint points). “Mike? What are you doing?” He looked awfully good for twenty to seventy years later. Huh? “Are you all right?” Huh? “Get in my ute. I’ll take you home.”
PLAYING ADMINISTRATOR Ten minutes later I was sitting on the steps of my house. My neighbour had returned home. In my mind, I was still playing an adventure game. “We can’t pick you up. The rules won’t allow it?” said Clarke (a person formerly known as a “grey”). Can I change the rules? 1812 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No answer. I wish to change access privileges to “administrator”. “You have been changed to an administrator.” Change the rule that prevents me from being picked up by a UFO so that I can be picked up now. “You can now be picked up,” said an administrator. “I can’t pick you up,” said Clarke. “I’m not allowed to get close enough to the ground.” Change the rule that prevents Clarke from getting close to the ground. “I still can’t pick you up.” An administrator said, “Your rule changes have been overridden.” Make a rule to promote me to a second-level administrator. “A tenth-level administrator? Sure.” As a tenth-level administrator, I have higher administrator rights, and override the previous overriding of my rules. “We have just changed ourselves to eleventh-level administrators and overridden your changes.” I continued to try and verbally outmanoeuvre the other administrators of the “game” by inventing more complex and obscure rules. I quickly proved incapable, especially when someone used five “nots” in a row and rules expanded from five to thirty-word sentences. Clarke joined in, but he couldn’t make headway either. After half an hour of this, I gave up, deciding that I must be in real life, and went to bed. I shivered with cold (or infection) for a few minutes before I fell asleep. 1813 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
OOPS I would later learn that I had caused a bit of an “incident” that night while trying to get “abducted” as ships of the Homo Sapiens empire(?) prevented anyone from picking me up. People began to wonder why the empire (or someone else) was so intent on preventing contactees from leaving.
A deeply random thought Coati-evolved humor: How do you get a cougar to wink? Glue its eye shut.
HOMO GATTACA’S PRELI MINARY INVASION OF THE ORION SPUR (WRITTEN 17/5/2010) The Homo Gattaca Empire’s military sent approximately 200,000 hominid troops and civilians to as a preliminary invasion force for the Orion Spur. The civilians were: some settlers, families of the previous 50,000 preliminary invasion force, simianevolved pilots and crew of the (potentially) co-owned fleet, and sex slaves.
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THE PLAN The trip took 2 - 3 months of travel time. It was planned based on military intelligence collected from the Orion Spur 5 - 8 months previously. The military expected to do the following: 1.
Land on the 10 allied planets of the space-faring Homo Sapiens empire.
2.
Failing that, they might try and land on planets occupied by allied spacefaring races in the Orion Spur: Alotians-lite, Nor-lite (Thylacoleo-evolved primates), Greys, or Simians. About 50 planets in the 40,000(?) Orion Spur stars could be friendly landing sites. Approximately 500 planets in the Orion Spur have Earth technology or above... kind of.
3.
Set up “crowd control” (aka: spy bots, telepathy bots, and kill bots) to tighten their grip on the 10 “allied” Homo Sapiens planets... and potentially set up “crown control” for their allied space-faring races.
4.
Further augment their “crowd control” over Earth, as well as the nine other slave Homo Sapiens planets.
5.
Attack the space stations and underground bases of the “reptiloids” and “animal people” on Earth and nearby planets (and asteroids). The term “animal people” condescendingly refers to people with fur. “Reptiloids” condescendingly refers to people descended from goannas, crocodiles, frilled-necked lizards, dinosaurs, etc.
6.
Have settlers (and military) spread out over “primitive” planets with lowtech reptiloids and animal people. “Primitives” are people who have limited tool-use and basic housing. The settlers would begin “crowd control” and pogroms to kill off the intelligent/agitator individuals.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought
When I was a child, moral decisions were “black and white”.
As a pre-teen I perceived decisions in grey-scale.
As a teen, everything was grey.
By my late teens, all moral decisions became brightly colored.
I now see decisions as all colors at once, with relationships between the colors.
THE COLLAPSE OF THE ECONOMY OF THE OFF-PLANET HOMO SAPIENS Starting August 2009 (approximately), the off-planet Homo Sapiens began to increase their own “crowd control” efforts over Earth and other slave planets. These attacks were mainly in the form of kill-bot assaults on “contactees” and invisible bases In response to these measures, the galactic powers: 1.
Brought more military into the region.
2.
Destroyed the extradimensional defence satellites that the off-planet Homo Sapiens had placed around Earth (and one other Homo Sapiens slave planet).
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November 12, 2011 3. Destroyed much of the “crowd control” infrastructure of the off-planet Homo Sapiens. 4.
As a warning, the sun was “blacked out” for the main planet of the Homo Sapiens empire for a few days. A large “balloon” is opened between the star and the planet causing a total eclipse over the entire planet.
5.
Destroyed many “Ladas”, low-cost UFOs that the off-planet Homo Sapiens used to travel between the stars. The allegedly-civilian spacecraft were also used for kill-bot deliveries.
6.
Harassed off-planet Homo Sapiens living on Earth (and other slave planets).
7.
Prevented resources from being moved from the enslaved planets of Homo Sapiens mini-Empire to the 10 empire planets.
8.
Tried to convince the Homo Sapiens opposition party that they should not enslave planets.
9.
Meanwhile, the “Al Ari”, a slave-freeing organization, enhanced their operations to free “animal people” slaves from the Homo Sapiens empire.
Consequently: 1.
The Homo Sapiens empire’s economy began to collapse.
2.
The opposition took control using their private militia.
3.
The old government used their militia to dethrone the opposition.
4.
Half (approximately) of the Homo Sapiens subservient farming planets separated politically from the main Homo Sapiens empire planet.
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November 12, 2011 5.
The Homo Sapiens empire’s economy mostly collapsed.
A randomly deep thought He who controls the planetary defenses controls the planet... or at least prevents “enemy” ships from landing, and/or taking off.
WHAT 50,000 AJ’S (ARMY JERKS) FROM THE HOMO GATTACA EMPIRE CAN DO All but one of the Homo Sapiens planets are rural, farm-based with 1950’s farming machinery and “animal person” slave labour. Several of them recently separated politically from the main empire planet. The main Homo Sapiens empire planet has two continents, one that is mostly desert but with large cities. The other continent is rural. The military of the Homo Gattaca empire (theoretically “allied” with the Homo Sapiens empire): 1.
Sent a exploratory force of 50,000 military to the allied Homo Sapiens empire.
2.
Landed on the rural continent and set up base, including additional “crowd control” to be used on their Homo Sapiens “allies”.
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November 12, 2011 3. In an attempt to thwart an Al Ari rescue of several hundred slaves from a warehouse in a Homo Sapiens city on the main planet, some Homo Gattaca soldiers (or perhaps otherwise aligned) launched a nuke from a spacecraft, turning the warehouse into a crater, and killing thousands of Homo Sapiens living nearby. 4.
Handed out 1 kiloton (approximately) efficient nukes to Homo Sapiens supporters. Many of these eventually found their way to farmers who were encouraged to use them to attack Al Ari ships that landed to rescue slaves. Many of the slaves eventually broken into the farmers’ strong-boxes and acquired their own nukes.
5.
Many of the Homo Gattaca soldiers wanted to move away from their Empire to escape its oppressive regime. That desire, a high death-toll on their side, and internal vendettas, lead to some of remaining Homo Gattaca soldiers “aligning” themselves more with the Homo Sapiens rulers.
A randomly deep thought “YOU do not take constructive criticism well.” If this statement aggravates you, then you must be a Homo Sapiens.
PROBLEMS WHEN THE FLEET OF 200,000 ARRIVE
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November 12, 2011 1. Military patrols (from throughout the galaxy) made it difficult for the Homo Sapiens and Homo Gattaca to land on any of their allied planets. 2.
Political negotiations and the aggression of 50,000 Homo Gattaca soldiers caused some potential allies to decide not to support the Homo Gattaca invasion.
3.
The Homo Gattaca empire employs 10:1 revenge attacks when their soldiers are killed. 1000 Homo Gattaca soldiers killed requires a revenge attack killing 10,000 civilians (or soldiers). This rule leads to the limited nuking of several settlements and cities, causing previous allies of Homo Gattaca to rethink their alliance.
4.
The simian civilian pilots and flight crew don’t wish their financial investments in some of the transport ships to be blown up. They also value their lives.
5.
Military supplies hidden on the desert planet of Raaka by the Homo Sapiens are discovered. The Homo Sapiens and Homo Gattaca militaries are prevented from accessing these supplies... for the most part.
6.
The engines of many of the Homo Gattaca ships don’t work efficiently in this part of the galaxy.
7.
Because of the galactic militaries, and a weak resistance movement in the Homo sapiens Empire, Homo Gattaca ships find it dangerous to land on the planets of the Homo Sapiens Empire.
8.
Homo Gattaca ships aren’t allowed to land on food-supplying planets.
9.
Consequently, Homo Gattaca “settlers” land on planets of “primitives”. They use implant detectors to easily locate “prey”, who happen to be the mostintelligent of the “primitives” that have been implanted by guardian races.
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November 12, 2011 The people are shot and sold as “monkey meat” to the hungry military. More people are infuriated by this cannibalism of intelligent races. 10. The Homo Gattaca military controls the farming continent on the main planet of the Homo Sapiens empire. Food is rationed, and the populated continent on the other side of the planet begins to go hungry. Food cannot easily be brought in from other planets due to the war. Nor can the farming planets of the Homo Sapiens empire easily get fuel for their farming machinery.
A randomly deep thought The military-terrorist spectrum: Purely military 1.
Attack purely military targets, such as gun placements away from civilians.
2.
Attack military targets, even if they’re near civilians and will result in civilian casualties.
3.
Attack military personnel when they’re off duty, perhaps out at a pub. Civilian casualties are inevitable.
4.
Attack the civilians (family, friends, contractors) associated with military targets.
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November 12, 2011 5. Threaten to attack civilians if the military doesn’t back down. Of course, threats are followed through. 6.
Attack civilians so they ask their government to withdraw military support.
7.
Attack civilians with no objective in mind.
8.
Attack civilians for the purpose of a doomsday scenario where a social chain reaction causes even more civilians die. Purely terrorist
Add easily-available golf-ball-sized nukes to the recipe.
DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) THE WAITING ROOM I woke soon after sunrise. My right foot wouldn’t bear weight. It was swollen (from a break), black-and-blue (from internal bleeding), with infected blisters (from the barefoot wanderings the night before). I couldn’t walk. I crawled to the door. My neighbour, who had driven me home the night before, arrived before I reached the door. I’m not sure if I crawled out of bed when I heard him drive up, or if he arrived after I crawled to the door. He saw my condition and rushed to fetch the local doctor, who lived a few houses away. (Rural living has its advantages.) 1822 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Both returned, along with some other concerned neighbours. They helped be out of the house and into a car, where I was driven to Darwin Hospital. I recall filling in some basic emergency-room paperwork. I was asked to sign some sort of waver, but I couldn’t understand even a single sentence of legalese; so I didn’t sign. After I sat in a hair to wait, Clarke (or perhaps someone else) telepathically warned: “They are looking for you.” “Keep your shields up.” (I had no idea what my shields were, so I tried to think about blocking my brain.) “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself,” was Clarke’s response to my attempt. I felt a short chill, and shivered slightly. “They just scanned you.” Some time passed. “They’re scanning you again.” Again, I shivered. More time passed. To occupy my brain, I looked around at the other waiting people, wondering if their injury was more severe than mine... if they’d get called first... and how long I’d have to wait. There wasn’t much else to do in a waiting room. I certainly wasn’t going to tell my neighbour about the previous nights’ alien-originated adventure game. “Don’t look at anyone. They’ll scan them.” Huh? “See that person who you just looked at. They just scanned him.” 1823 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Put your shields up again. They’re about to scan you.” I shivered briefly again.
NO CAST, NO ANTIBIOT ICS, MENTAL TEST Within an hour, a doctor called me in. He did some routine checks, looking at my eyes, feet, etc. Nothing unexpected. I thought he’d send me on to the plasterers for a cast on my foot... which was either badly sprained or broken. I pointed to my barbed-wire impaled hands, scrapes on my arms, and infected blisters on my feet: “I need some antibiotics,” I said. “Not now. Antibiotics are dangerous in your current state of health.” Huh? Disregarding the antibiotics, the doctor asked, “What year is it?” 2009. “What month?” July. “What day” I don’t know. What about my cast? And I need antibiotics. “Can you count backwards from 97 by 7’s.” 97. 90. 82. 75. 68. I couldn’t pass the counting test. 1824 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “That’s good enough. I’m going to send you for a CAT scan.” Having entered the hospital for a broken (or sprained foot) and antibiotics, I received a CAT scan, and returned to my curtained alcove.
WAVY SUIT It was around 7:00 as far as I could tell; no sun reached the baby-blue-painted hospital ward. My brain was numb; I could hardly think. I was given a tasteless sandwich, allowed to lie back, and the alcove curtains were closed for my privacy. I closed my eyes for a few minutes, opened them, and noticed a pitch-black “shadow” standing just left of me. I didn’t dare move, so I only observed the “shadow” out of the corner of my left eye. The “shadow” that stood by my hospital bed looked like the black silhouette of a four-foot tall person. The edges of the shadow where wavy and rippling. I still didn’t move. With thumb and index finger positioned to pick up a small object, like an insect, the shadow extended its arm towards me. It (most likely a she) slid her fingers a few centimetres into my abdomen, and pulled something out. I didn’t feel anything. I closed my eyes and (I think) fell asleep.
A week later, while at Darwin’s mental institution, I was visited in the middle of the night by someone else in a wavy-suit. 1825 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
POTENTIAL CONFLICT IMAGINED When I next awoke I had a sense of déjà vu, or, a feeling that I had dreamt (or lived) the next fifteen minutes of my life before. I was still in my curtained alcove. My brain was dysfunctional. I “knew” that UFOs were hovering above the hospital. I “knew” that two rival sides, a rivalry I had learned of a few days previously, had people invisibly positioning themselves around the hospital. I couldn’t see them, but I “knew” they were wandering around, eyeing each other off, weapons ready. From my déjà vu, I “knew” that open conflict was moments away. I expected greys, and their rival race, to suddenly appear and begin shooting. “If people start appearing, roll out of your bed and onto the ground. You’re less-likely to be accidently hit (and killed) by our weapons’ beams that way.” I waited, tension high. “Can you sneak out of your alcove, and out the door to your right?” I considered the idea, but didn’t want to behave any more crazy than I already had. “Don’t sneak out the doors. You may start a war.”... or was it? “If a war erupts, you’ll need to rush out the hallway to your right.” I’m not sure which telepathic message I “heard”. I waited a few more minutes, expecting people to appear at any moment. I fell asleep... Since then, I have learned that falling asleep is an excellent way of resolving problems with “aliens”. 1826 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
4000 LEVELS OF HELL I woke sometime later, and quickly entered into a bizarre telepathic conversation that caused me to coin the phrase “religious wacko”. Up until this point, my telepathic conversations had obviously been with people (from other planets). They were good-natured, a bit odd, and never accusational. While I don’t remember the details of the “4000 levels of hell” conversation, here’s the gist: I was having a telepathic conversation with a different “alien”, one who had earlier commented on the poor nutrition of my hospital sandwich. I don’t recall the topic; it may have been about what was happening in the hospital, or my health, or something else. Religious voice: “You are evil, you are sentenced to the second level of hell where liars(?) go.” We kept on talking telepathically about more interesting subjects than hell. Religious voice: “For consorting with the devil [the “alien” I was talking to], you are now sentenced to the seventh level of hell, where you will be buried up to your head. You [the alien] are sentenced to the twelfth level of hell.” Huh? For some reason, the two of us got into a mud-slinging match... or rather, the religious voice read into our conversation, finding fault with everything we said. Within ten minutes of further conversation, the religious voice promoted me to the second level of heaven, while my alien friend was down to the fifteenth level of hell. My “alien” friend tried to get me to shut up at that point so I wouldn’t get into any more trouble... but I couldn’t resist the conversation. 1827 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Ten minutes of conversation later, we had both been gradually downgraded to the 4000th level of hell for some unremembered and unspeakable sins. 4000 levels of hell, the previous night’s adventure-game in Hades (NOT hell), and my deteriorating brain, led me to worry about my own sanity. For the previous two weeks, I had pleasant and rational telepathic conversations with people (from other planets). All of the sudden, fundamentalist Christian religions (with 4000 levels of hell?) were brought into the fray... which was odd, because I never really believed in heaven or hell. The fundamentalist-Christian voice wouldn’t return until the middle of the next day.
A deeply random thought Do you really want to play the harp for a billion years? Vote REINCARNATION.
NEAR COMA Soon after being committed to 4000 levels of hell by a fundamentalist-Christian telepath, I was wheeled off the RAPU unit, where I spent the night. I was nearly in a coma by that point. To keep my mind active and prevent me from falling in a coma, I was jokingly put through “grey training” by a telepathic companion.
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November 12, 2011 I won’t repeat the transcript of that night... but all the mental and physical exercises were humorously insulting to “greys”. Some of the tasks involved lifting up my arm to push the “blorple” (blue + purple) “button”, a blorple-coloured decolourization that moved around my field of view. I don’t know how much I slept that night, but the hours passed quickly, and my brain didn’t go into a coma.
A deeply random thought Anyone who is known (by friends) to be a computer expert is used to getting phone calls from friends saying: “My computer is broken, can you stop by and fix it?” I once had a satellite phone call from Antarctica, from the architect who designed my house. He had taken hundreds of photos of Mawson’s Hut, and then accidentally deleted them, and then accidently emptied the Windows recycle bin. His ship wasn’t due to return to Australia for months, so I had to remotely help him un-lose his photos. That phone call was topped by a recent telepathic conversation with someone in an invisible underground city: “We have a virus/Trojan on our Windows computer [obtained in the black-market trade of Earth technology]. Can you help me find and remove it?” Unlike the voice-only Antarctica call, I received occasional visuals.
HOME VISIT (1997?) I awoke in my Seattle bedroom in the middle of the night. 1829 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 In front of me stood a “grey”. Startled (kind of), I leapt out of bed, ran past the “grey”, and bolted down the hallway leading from my bedroom. I ran into a large, walking, 70’s shag-carpet that gently caught me. I don’t remember any more.
TRACKING DOWN MY FIRST UFO (MID-JULY 2009) Waking up from a nap, I heard a subsonic hum, almost below my threshold of hearing. For most people, the frequency would be too low to be perceived... or their refrigerator (and other house noises) would mask the sound. Rotating my head back and forth, I tracked the hum outside of my house, where it became quieter. I suspect that all the steel framing, walls, and roofing in my house somehow amplified the sound. Even though the hum was quieter outside, I followed the sound’s direction down into a valley behind my house. Near the floor of the valley, the sound came from all around. I didn’t see anything. I looked up and noticed a cloud directly overhead... ... which was unusual since it was the only cloud in the sky. ... and it was also unusual since it was a 100 meter long cloud, 10 meters wide, (tailshaped) and only a few hundred meters above the ground. The “tail’s” direction was obviously determined by the dry-season’s strong breeze.
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November 12, 2011 ... which meant that whatever created the cloud was on the windward side of the cloud. I studied the cloud for a minute. The hum moved to the east. I stubbornly followed the hum half way up a hill, where it once again came from all around me. Once again I looked up. A new cloud had formed above me. Oddly, this cloud had straight edges, like a cloud-drawn outline of a cube. When the cloud noticed that I noticed this, it bolted southward... or at least small rotoscoped cloud-lets dotted their way southwards. The hum vanished. I trudged up the hill, following the short cloud trail south. The trail disappeared after 100 meters, half way to my house. I had lost. Giving up, I returned home, climbed up on my deck, and looked over the vista to the south. Around a kilometre away, I saw a small cloud, but I was unsure if it was the fleeing cloud. I decided to return back to the valley to see if the cloud had returned. After walking fifty meters from my house, I turned around and saw a blorplecoloured diamond-shaped vapour only a few meters above my house’s steel roof. (No, I didn’t take any photos until months later, after UFO pilots gave me permission to take photos of their ships.) The blorple mist hovered over my steel roof for half a minute, and then evaporated as it flew over me. A trail of dried autumn-like leaves fell in its wake.
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November 12, 2011 Following the falling-leaf trail, I tracked the UFO’s path a few hundred meters to the west. I lost track of the UFO when it ran out of leaves. No one will admit to piloting the UFO. Apparently, it got “stuck” on my oddly-shaped steel roof (and electrically well-grounded house). Luckily for the pilot and me, the UFO didn’t crash into my house.
CALTECH (1987-1991) When at Caltech in Pasadena, California, my roommate and I would perk up our ears at night when we heard subsonic hums; no one else heard them. We assumed the sounds were generated from large trucks. Looking back, the subsonic hums may not have been produced by trucks... The UFOs hovering over my house near Darwin, Australia, produced similar-sounding hums.
A randomly deep thought Years ago, I wrote: I am locked in a small room with 3-year old children. There are no doors or windows. The walls are painted pink. I know there must be something beyond the walls, but I can’t find a way out. When I first began talking to people (from other planets) they couldn’t understand why I was so ignorant. Simply put, the only color I had ever seen was pink, and my inability to imagine green and blue baffled and saddened them. Since then, I have added to my aphorism: 1832 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For their own sadistic pleasure, my cousins have kept me locked in their basement since before I can remember. I have known no other world but the pink prison they keep me in.
FREE MEDICAL AND DENTAL (1998?) I woke up in my bed. Several people dressed in doctor’s gowns were leaning over me. I wasn’t afraid, so I let myself fell back asleep. For a few weeks prior to the experience, my left nipple was inflamed. A week after this dream, I noticed that my left nipple no longer hurt, and was slightly depressed, as though some flesh had been surgically removed.
JOURNAL ENTRY (23/9/2000) I had a dream where Someone was telling me that I had some arterial blockage in one of my ventricles, but that it was old damage. It seemed like the lower left side.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Never give magic markers to children evolved from St. Andrews Cross Spiders; they graffiti “X’s” on all the walls and windows. Some genes can’t be removed.
http://www.spiderzrule.com/Argiope_keyserlingi_RF0461.jpg
FIVE NIGHTS BEFORE D AY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MID-JULY 2009) DANCING It was a night… but not dark and stormy. “You are in danger,” announced Clarke. 1834 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Some people are planning to take you by force.” “They are going to teleport you, if possible.” I didn’t like the sound of this. I had previously spent several days in telepathic conversation with Clarke, who named himself after Arthur C. Clarke. I spent one night watching “2001: A Space Odyssey” and telepathically discussing the movie with him. I suggested that someone place a monolith in front of the White House for fun. I also pointed out how atrocious the interior decoration of the post-jump-gate apartment was. During the conversation, he mentioned that he had seen the movie when it opened, alongside some US military brass; they didn’t “get it”. “What I need to you do is step to the left.” “Now step forward.” “Step right”. “Step left.” Why am I doing this? “If you keep moving, they’ll find it difficult to get a lock on you, and won’t be able to teleport you.” “Step back.” “Step right.” Are you following a pattern? “No, I’m just using the random-number generator in my brain.” “Step left.” “Step left.” 1835 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “If you start feeling light-headed and weird, tell me. They may have a lock on you, and may be teleporting you. I’ll try to interfere in that case.” “And two steps backwards.” This went on for some time. “Time to move to another room. Can you walk quickly to your west bedroom wing?” Yes. I hurried there. Once inside, Clarke began with, “Step forward”. “Left.” “Right.” “Diagonal.” How do you know where I am? “I can track you on my display. You show up as a small dot.” I imagined a glimpse of Clarke’s display. “Forward.” “Step right.” The dance went on for an hour. “I think they have given up teleporting you.” “You can rest now.” “Be careful. They can come through your fly screen. It’s more difficult for them to pass through walls.” “Sit against your bathroom wall and rest. The wall should provide you some protection.” 1836 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After fifteen minutes of rest and chat, Clarke said, “I think they’re gone. Head back to your bedroom [west wing] and you can go to sleep after awhile.”
SOMEONE ON MY STEPS I walked to the other side of my house, where my bedroom was located. When I got there, Clarke warned, “They may be here [landed in encounter suits].” I froze and listened. After a few minutes, I heard my deck’s floorboards shift as if someone were walking on it. I could imagine a grey-clad (in a grey encounter suit) person slinking like Gollum (from the Lord of the Rings), up my steps and towards my room. I didn’t move. The sounds ceased. “They’re gone,” said Clarke. I looked outside. Wait a minute, I don’t want to get caught in the middle of anything. I don’t want to take sides. “They’re dangerous,” warned Clarke. (Or something to that effect.) I walked into my kitchen, grabbed a piece of printer paper, and wrote, “Do you want to talk?” in large letters. I placed the sign on my deck, at the top of my steps, and weighed it down with glass filled with water.
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November 12, 2011 Clarke must of thought I was crazy.
A randomly deep thought First contact, lesson #116: Blue ballpoint-pen writing is NOT visible to people in encounter suits. “They” could read my mind though, and they appreciated the offer to talk.
BLORPLE LIGHTS ON MY DRIVEWAY “Your house is too confining. Can you walk somewhere else that is open?” I can dance on my driveway. “Do that. Walk quickly down the pathway to your driveway.” My driveway parking area is quite large so that if/when I have parties there is enough parking space. “They’re here.” “Be careful, they’re stronger than you think.” Once on my driveway I began to “dance”, moving left, forward, back, right, etc. “If they grab you, don’t fight. We’ll try to get you back.” “And whatever you do, DON’T attack them. If you attack them, they may attack back.” 1838 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 At that moment, I either remembered a dream from a few years previously, or I had premonitional déjà vu, perhaps from someone playing with the timeline. My dream repeated minutes later, but not exactly as I remembered. On my driveway, I saw a blorple-colored spot of light half a meter in diameter. The center of the spotlight was dark, creating a light ring. I could see no source for the light. The light sped along the ground in front of me and then disappeared. Clarke, I remember this from a dream. I don’t think Clarke noticed the comment. “They’re behind you.” I walked forward, turned around, but didn’t see anything. To prevent “them” from grabbing me, I walked to a different location on the driveway and turned around. The light (perhaps one of two) sped right past me. Curious, and stupid, and not knowing if the light was caused by an invisible object or person, I reached out and tried to grab (or touch) whatever was creating the light. My hand swiped though the air, touching nothing.
A deeply random thought First contact, lesson #117: Listen to Clarke when he says, “Do NOT attack them.” Fist contact, lesson #118: Do NOT try to grab invisible blorple lights. They might shoot you.
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November 12, 2011 I’m not really sure if I was shot, but I was later told that I might have been.
A randomly deep thought [The above is] Not quite correct, we have more accurate records. Your brain was fairly sozzled at the time.
ACTIVATING EARTH’S PLANETARY DEFENSES (WRITTEN 23/5/2010) Over the last year, the following planetary defenses have been activated:
POLICIES
Proper security codes are required for Earth access.
Low-tech friendly space-planes that are easily spotted and destroyed by enemy space-planes will be diverted away from the solar system.
Partial flight-ban for hominids.
Tourist activities are no longer permitted.
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November 12, 2011
EARTH’S INTELLIGENCE AND COMMUNICATIONS INFRASTRUCTURE
New telepathy software has been uploaded into Earth’s telepathy-net infrastructure.
Communications satellites and the internet and have been hacked and can be controlled if necessary.
Approximately 40,000 off-planet hominids living on Earth are now being monitored.
Due to resource constraints, the effort to evolve a “pink funkadoo” (described in Terry Gilliam’s “Time Bandits” as a 300-foot tall tree with pink flowers that smells awful) has been put on hold.
DEFENSES
Earth has been moved “out” of its normal position in extradimensional space. Some of the ramifications are: o
Earth is difficult to find since it is no longer at the same extradimensional coordinates that it was.
o
Many low-tech spacecraft find it difficult to “reach” earth’s location in extradimensional space.
o
Many spacecraft engines and power-sources no longer function efficiently at Earth’s new location.
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November 12, 2011 o Unintended side effect: Physics constants are slightly different; digital watches may not work as well. o
Unintended side effect: Some stars may be more/less visible.
“Circular shades” automatically open in front of incoming, unregistered spacecraft, preventing them from seeing or detecting the Earth from a distance.
Earth’s layer-scramblers are activated.
Defensive weapons have been installed in invisible cities, space stations, and sites throughout the solar system.
De-hyrdogenization and de-heliumization devices are ready in the event of a nuclear attack.
Some of Earth’s Homo Sapiens politicians are under protection.
Viruses are now monitored, with the expectation of having to release weaker vaccination-viruses to protect Earth’s Homo Sapiens population from weaponized viral attacks. Weaponized viruses may not act like normal viruses; they could result in an unexpected increase in brain hemorrhages, organ deterioration, etcetera.
A randomly deep thought If a group of Homo Sapiens are arbitrarily divided into two groups, and half named as “Group A”, the other being “Group B”, Group A will eventually enter 1842 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 into conflict with Group B. Not all races have this problem.
“AWARENESS DREAM” OF CHINESE-LIKE-HOMINIDS FESTIVAL (5/2010) This is an example of an awareness dream, where I am seeing through someone else’s eyes (and sometimes influencing their decisions). I was walking down a street in a small village of one-story concrete houses next to a river. The people looked Chinese, but were taller than me (because I wasn’t Hominid). I walked up a street, and turned left to where a small market was being held. … I had crossed the border into what I thought was “North Korea”. I realized that I didn’t want to be there, but by this time, I had already passed some customs gate. I was walking down a hallway that would lead me to a place (not really “North Korea”) where I knew I wouldn’t be able to return from. How could I get out? I turned back though a neighboring hallway but couldn’t find an exit out of the “no return” place where I already was. … I was looking out an open window. 250 meters below me was an idealized hamlet, some bonsai-sized farms, and a small orchard. The entire area, around a kilometer wide by 500 meters deep, was shaded 1843 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 by an enormous awning attached to the building where I stood. The idealized, shaded hamlet was a symbolic entry into the world which I was about to enter. … In a modern building ,I stood on a moving footpath that took me down a few floors. When I got to the ground floor, I walked outside onto a large beach. There were no doors between the inside and outside; there may have been one-way turnstiles. Hundreds of Chinese-looking people walked before and behind me. To the right was blue sea water. To the left was a small fence and dune grasses. In front of me stood a temporary long house. The sound of wood chopping emanated from within the long house. Five circular, angled chutes off one side of the building occasionally disgorged wood chips. To the left of the building was a “witch” dressed head-to-toe in rags. Her skin wasn’t visible, and her form was obscured by muslin-like garments. She had a stack of two-meter-long “logs”, about 30 centimetres in diameter... except they weren’t logs; they were the grey-white bark of aspen-like trees, with the wood hollowed out. The “witch” was tying five “logs” of increasing length together into a giant pan flute. She pretended to play them, and I heard a chord of music played from somewhere. Once tied, the giant pan-flute was laid in a pile of other giant pan-flutes. Chinese-looking people walked past. I followed some of the Chinese-looking people, walking to the left of the “witch”. I nonchalantly picked up a single log-bark and dragged it with me; the “witch” didn’t notice. After I had carried it around thirty meters, I tried to blow across the top of the logbark to make the tune I heard the “witch” create. That didn’t work.
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November 12, 2011 The log-bark had holes throughout, formed where too much bark was cut away, or where branches had met the tree wood. I tried blowing into one of these. I couldn’t produce any sound. I then realized that I had pilfered the log, so I carried it back to the “witch”. All I could see under the muslin was her green iguana/dragon-like nose. She opened her mouth and stuck out/down her tongue in disapproval. I noticed that her tongue’s median was angled vertically up, and was a light green... I never thought that skin pigment would translate into tongue pigment. I woke up. I may go into more detail about the ceremony later.
A deeply random thought Captain Stormfield's Visit to Heaven, by Mark Twain (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Stormfield's_Visit_to_Heaven, http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext97/cptsf10h.htm)
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DAY #2 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) WRONG “REALITY” I awoke, knowing that I was at a hospital in Darwin… although I might have also been in a hospital in Darwin River, 40 years later. I borrowed a phone and called my neighbor so she could pick me up from the RAPU unit. It took me several tries to properly dial the phone. After fifteen minutes, I eventually got through and she said she’d pick me up. “Don’t stay in bed. You don’t want to look ill.” I got out of bed, and put my clothes on, discarding the prison-like uniform of the hospital smock. In the center of the RAPU room was a partially-enclosed room where the staff worked on computers. It was built on a raised platform, about 20 centimeters off ground level. “Stand outside the doorway to the staff area. Look like you’re waiting for someone,” suggested someone, who I thought was a “Grey”. I did. “Feel the air. It’s stuffy here. You are in the wrong “reality”. If you walk over there you’ll get better air.” I walked a few meters away to “over there” and the airflow improved. After a few minutes, the air stilled and became stuffy again. “You are in the wrong reality again. Time to move. Try standing in the staff workarea.” I moved inside the staff work-area and found it easier to breathe. 1846 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The stuffiness returned a few minutes later,. “Your reality has changed again. Move half way down the staff area to return to your reality.” Again, after moving the air cleared up. At the time, I had no idea what “reality” meant, and why it was difficult to breathe. I have since experienced this stuffiness when an extradimensional UFO is invisibly occupying the same three-dimensional space as me, but is offset extradimensionally. Airflow is impeded by the extradimensional hull and walls of the UFO. Moving “out” of the area restores airflow… not to mention the oxygen’s baryons rotating so they’re easier to breathe.
JUMPING TIMELINES The telepathic prompting got even weirder. I heard and felt the ground shift slightly. The plywood boards that made up the elevated floor of the staff work-area “popped”. “Hear that. You have just been shifted to a new timeline.” In my state of mind, that statement almost made sense. “You’re now in the wrong timeline though. Your neighbor won’t pick you up in this timeline.” That didn’t sound good. I would be stuck at the hospital without my neighbor. “In about twelve seconds, the timeline will change again. Take a step to the left when you hear it.” On cue, the floor popped; the world moved slightly. 1847 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I stepped to the left. “Too late. You missed the proper timeline by 0.4 seconds.” I don’t want to be stuck here. “Don’t worry, another timeline will be along in 64 seconds. Step to forward then… wait… wait… now!” Step forward. “No good. You’re too early.” This repeated for half an hour until I finally managed to step into the proper timeline. I have no idea what this episode meant.
LEFT VERSUS RIGHT-SIDED UNIVERSE The theme of the telepathic prompting shifted. “You are now in the correct timeline.” “Do you know if you are in a left-handed or right-handed universe?” I don’t know. “See that door. Watch for your neighbor to walk through it.” I noticed one of the exit doors for the RAPU room. (I hadn’t noticed the exit doors before this.) “If you are in a right-handed universe, then your neighbor will enter through that door. If you are in a left-handed universe, then she will enter from the door behind you, and touch on the back of your right shoulder.” 1848 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 That sentence was a bit too much to comprehend, so I just watched the door I was told to watch. “The timelines have shifted again. Turn around, walk forward a bit, and watch the other door.” I did. “If you are in a left-handed universe, your neighbor will enter from the door you’re looking at. You’ll know you’re in a right-handed universe if your neighbor enters from behind, and touches you on your left shoulder.” This repeated a few times until my neighbor arrived. I believe that she entered through the door I was looking at, and that I ended up in a left-handed universe… with left-handed physics. I would later find out that many planets in solar systems are “rotated”. Upon flying into a solar system, most of the solar-system’s planets are invisible. They only become visible when your UFO is “rotated” to the same angle as the planet. However, if your UFO is “rotated” to 0 degrees, then you can also see and land at planets rotated oppositely, at 180 degrees. If you land on planet rotated 180 degrees off, then everything is backwards. All the writing is backwards. The laws of physics are backwards. And… you need to eat different foods, especially different sugars.
A randomly deep thought This document is a vaccination meme. You don’t have to believe it, just understand that it might be true. 1849 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HEART ATTACK? I had had very little to eat or drink over the last 36 hours, maybe 48. After my neighbor arrived, she decided to spend fifteen minutes chatting with one of the staff… whom she had never met before. During that time, I started to get heart palpitations. I knew I had system infections (which tests would to later show – a value of 247+ where the normal range was 3-5), and half-knew I was dehydrated. I might be having a heart attack, I said. “Sit down and we’ll do an EKG,” said a concerned nurse. By the time the wires were taped onto me, the palpitations stopped. Nothing showed up. I felt quite stupid/ashamed to raise an alarm. My neighbor and I left the RAPU ward, walked out into the hall, and… The heart palpitations started up again, MUCH stronger. Again, I think I’m having a heart attack. At this point, my parents (inconveniently) called from Los Angeles; they had booked an emergency flight out to visit me. Someone wheeled in a hospital stretcher. I laid down on it. They wheeled me into the emergency room. And then things got even weirder… 1850 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “That man over there. We don’t trust him,” a telepathic voice said. “Move a bit to distract them. We’re going to try and get someone from OUR side into the room.” Two days before, running around half naked didn’t sound like a bad idea. Why not cause a distraction? I slid down the inclined hospital stretcher and delayed things a minute. Different people arrived in the room. “Some people on OUR side have arrived. You’ll be okay.” Someone pointed an X-ray machine at my chest. “Keep your eyes closed. We’re going to push you to a different reality.”, or was it “timeline”, or was it “version of reality”? I opened my eyes a few minutes later and the room color looked different. Different people seemed to be in the room. And I then I closed my eyes and had a very interesting telepathic conversation… A few notes:
I saw the chest X-ray a few days later, though still mentally impaired. I noticed a small metal object near my heart. It most likely was a clasp from my smock, not an “alien”-implanted remote-controlled defibrillator. Apparently, “alien”-implanted defibrillators can come with mini-neutron bombs that kill the heart. The people (from other planets) were concerned about this also. When I had an MRI a few weeks later, the magnetic field of the MRI tugged at something near my heart.
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November 12, 2011 Weeks later, I was telepathically informed that the defibrillator had been removed.
At the time, I had no idea what “OUR side” meant. I can now: Imagine two opposing high-tech sides, each with telepathy bots, both trying to control/influence the medical staff with those bots.
A randomly deep thought Stick-insect evolved children are very easy to babysit; being shy and attracted to clusters of vertical objects, they conveniently hide behind the furniture.
NEVER DISCUSS PHILOSOPHY WITH AN “ALIEN” WHILE RELIGIOUS WACKOS ARE TELEPATHICALLY EAVESDROPPING After closing my eyes, I slid into a semi-conscious state. I began a philosophical telepathic discussion with another “alien”. I won’t go into detail about the conversation. I am inevitably mixing multiple philosophical conversations I had over the upcoming days. The conversation it started out with me stating that I don’t wish to be here… I wish to get off the planet. 1852 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “There is only Earth,” interrupted a telepathic religious wacko. No there isn’t. There are other planets, and stars with planets around them. “No there isn’t. There is only Earth. Nothing beyond Earth is real.” Or was it, “Everything beyond Earth and the sun is a painting on the celestial heavens”? Not true. We have landed men on the moon and sent probes to other planets. Planets definitely exist. The “alien” listened, amused. “Nothing exists outside the solar system.” It must. I know I’ve met aliens. The religious wacko’s tact changed: “Even if there were aliens, they aren’t allowed here.” That doesn’t make sense. “They can’t land. The only way they can be on Earth is if they transform into Humans.” … which made absolutely no sense to me at the time. It now makes perfect sense. According to the Hominids in control of Earth, Earth was to exclusively Hominids, “whites-only”. Non-Hominid “aliens” would never be allowed to land. The Homo Sapiens living on Earth were to be kept ignorant. “You will never get off Earth. And… if any aliens arrive from another planet, they will have to look like Humans.” That makes no sense. I don’t want to be here. I want to live someplace with more than just Humans. I want to get off the planet. The “alien” interrupted, “We can create a world for you to live in.” 1853 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We can put you in a coma and you can live in the dream world for the rest of your life,” continued the alien. At the time, this made no sense either. “Coma” was correct, followed by an awareness dream that would turn permanent after my body was euthanized a few weeks later, and my awareness was permanently attached to someone off-planet. No, I don’t wish to be in a coma. I blanked out. Select (and misunderstood) portions of this and other philosophical conversations have been used by religious wackos to telepathically call me satanic, evil, etc.
WHAT YEAR IS IT? “Wake up, Mike,” said a nurse. She was pushing her fingers down on my sternum to forcefully wake me. I opened my eyes. I was in another room. I don’t know how much time had passed. “What year is it?” Um… 2008? No, 2009. “Can you tell me what month it is?” Someone telepathically suggested that I pretend I have the swine flu… which sounded like a reasonable idea, because by now, I suspected that my brain damage was from the swine flu. It’s May. (Wrong!) 1854 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “What day in May?” I don’t know. The 15th. A telepathic voice suggested, “Cough on them”. Why not? I felt flu-ish. I coughed. “Have you travelled anywhere lately?” Yes, Mexico. I blanked out.
A deeply random thought No one ever admits to being an “elder-elder” race. The might admit to being an “elder” race. Most prefer calling “eld…” races, or even “e…” races.
HULU MEDICINE I instantly awoke on a hospital stretcher.
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November 12, 2011 In my right arm was a catheter for an IV. Nothing was attached. Despite the protests of the staff, I ripped out the catheter. Don’t give me any of your Hulu (pronounced “Hoo-loo”) medicine!, I stated emphatically. I had no idea what I was saying. I held out my left arm and pointed it at one of the staff; I’m not sure why. If I had an extradimensional strap-on weapon attached to my harm, the staff member would NOT be happy. (I had no knowledge about such weapons at the time.) “Just relax. We’re going to take you in there.” No, I don’t want to go in there, I declared. I didn’t know why, except that I was afraid someone would kill me if my hospital stretcher was wheeled into the neighboring “pink” room. My experience with being “showered” at CalTech (the university I attended) paid off. If a group of people is about to carry you off (into an awaiting cold showers), the only way to survive is to grab onto something heavy (or fixed to the ground) and don’t let go. I did so. The staff couldn’t move the hospital stretcher. Some security guards appeared. “He’s being a problem.” Can we go anywhere else but there? “Certainly. If you don’t like that we’ll take you to a different room for the night.” I was wheeled to a mostly-empty ward, where I was assigned a bed. My neighbor got me a tasty sandwich from a take-away restaurant below. I ate it. She went home. I stayed in the hospital for another night. 1856 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MORE BLORPLE BUTTONS The night was spent pressing more “blorple” buttons to keep me out of a coma. Instead of mocking “greys”, this test had snide comments about the Hulu and Hulu medicine. I noticed that scratches on my arm were raised and purple… I don’t know the signs of septicemia, but I don’t think “purple” is a good color.
A randomly deep thought If you understood more about the Hulu, you’d understand an awful lot more about the Earth. By the way, the new Dr. Who series got it wrong. They’re not cat-evolved; the visual misidentification is understandable. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Earth)
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DAY #3 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) WAITING TO GET OUT I awoke in the morning, determined not to have a heart attack, and very determined NOT to stay in the hospital another night. My broken foot was STILL not plastered. I HADN’T yet received any antibiotics. I called my neighbor to pick me up… again. I think she has the route to the hospital memorized. A member of the staff led me to an enclosed courtyard, where I waited for my neighbor. He offered to get me a bite to eat. I gave him some money and requested an orange juice. Returning fifteen minutes later with some change, I was handed the juice bottle. I didn’t recognize the coin, thinking it was from another country (on another planet, or from an alternate reality). I didn’t recognize the juice label, although I could read it. It was the best orange juice I ever drank. I wondered why I had never tasted such sugars before. A jet flew overhead. I didn’t recognize it as a Boeing or Airbus jet. The color of the sky, sun, and walls seemed to change slightly every few minutes. That was the first say that I saw “violet”. Previously, I had only seen “purple” at the end of the rainbow, a combination of red and blue. My neighbor arrived. I had survived my first trip to the hospital.
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AT HOME That night, my broken foot not plastered, I got around the house on a swivel chair. I thought I was going to die. I tried writing a will (being of UN-sound mind and UNsound body); I couldn’t remember what year it was.
A deeply random thought In Larry Niven’s Ringworld series, a sea on the Ringworld includes flat reproductions of Earth, the Kzin home-world, and a few other planets. The worlds are “test planets” to predict how the different races will interact. Is Earth a test planet to see how different Hominid races will interact? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ringworld)
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HOMINID (AND FRIENDS) INVASION (WRITTEN 29/5/2010)
Map not drawn to scale.
Population of the Milky Way: 1860 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 70t very-high-tech 700t Earth-tech and above 4000t - 7000t hunter-gatherers and above
A randomly deep thought A human is someone who realizes that they are behaving like a chimpanzee, and decides to NOT act like a chimpanzee, were important. (Replace “chimpanzee” with any ancestral animal species.) A sub-human is someone who doesn’t realize that they’re behaving like a 100IQ chimpanzee.
THREE NIGHTS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MID-JULY 2009) “THEY’RE BACK” On yet another dark, and not-the-least stormy night: “They’re back,” said Clarke telepathically. 1861 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Walk to your living wing and start dancing again.” Once there... “Step left.” “And two steps back.” Etcetera.
“TELEPORTATION” “This isn’t working,” Clarke said after half an hour of evasive dancing. “I will try to teleport you.” “Just stand there while I get a lock on you.” “Stand absolutely still.” Easier said than done. From the comments, “greys” found it easier to stand still than Homo Sapiens. My body began to feel weird. The sound of the room changed slightly. I could almost hear the internal buzz of a UFO. “Try not to move.” I tried. “You’re moving too much. Just stand still for 30 seconds.” Despite trying to stand still, I found myself swaying a bit. “You’re running low on oxygen.” 1862 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I noticed the air getting a bit stuffy. “Move your thumb to get more air.” (“Stick out your tongue” would have been more appropriate, but “greys” don’t have tongues.) I moved my thumb. It didn’t seem to help with the stuffiness. “Wait, you’re not fitting. Let me push you.” I felt someone (invisible) gently push me from behind. “Can you slowly move your arms down by your side.” No, I’m holding a jacket. “Try squeezing your arms together tighter.” I did. “Your oxygen is getting low. Stick out your thumb again [to tear a small hole in the baryon bubble]”. The air was still old, despite the fact that I could feel a breeze blowing against me. Clarke noticed: “You can feel the breeze, but it isn’t providing you much oxygen.” “I don’t have much air left for you.” I waited to be teleported. “If you don’t get you teleported soon YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.” “You don’t fit. Drop your jacket. It’s the jacket or your life.” I DROPPED my jacket, and put my hands by my side. Clarke pushed me from behind. “There. I’ll try teleporting you again.” 1863 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The volume of the buzz increased. “Just stand still.” I’m feeling nauseas. Blank.
“HE’S NOT DEAD. I THOUGHT WE KILLED HIM.” “He’s not dead. I thought we killed him,” said someone else in telepathic voice. I found myself lying on my living-room floor. I think I was on my side. Clarke spoke, “Mike, I can’t teleport you here. There’s too much metal.” “You have to go outside onto some flat ground. I’ll teleport you from there.” “Hurry. I can’t stop the teleportation process now. You don’t have much oxygen left.” “If you run out of oxygen, YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.” I hurried outside and to my parking-lot area. “Wait there, and I’ll continue the teleportation.” I waited. “I have used up all the oxygen on my ship, by the way.” Not good. “I can’t teleport you here. There are too many stones by the surface.” “Can you climb up on a tree to get away from the stones?” 1864 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I wandered off into the bush, and climbed up a steeply angled tree until I was a meter off the ground. “YOU HAVE 20 SECONDS LEFT TO LIVE,” warned Clarke. “Are you ready?” Yes. I waited to be teleported. “I managed to get more oxygen.” I waited. “No good. There are still too many rocks around. Do you have any place with lots of deep soil?” Yes, down by the lake. “Head down there.” In the dark, I jumped off the log... and onto the side of a rock. I sprained (or broke) my right ankle. “Hurry up.” “YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS LEFT TO LIVE.” My brain wasn’t working; By this point, I should have realized that I was “going to die in 20 seconds” of lack of oxygen about ten minutes ago. Despite the sprain, I briskly walked down to the lake’s spillway. Teleportation didn’t work there, “Still too many rocks. Is there anywhere else with more soil?” Yes. 1865 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I temporarily pilfered someone’s plastic-resin chair, and walked (starting to hobble) half a kilometre to a large dirt pile. I climbed on top the pile, and sat on the chair, exhausted.
A deeply random thought First contact, lesson #121: Never-ever allow someone (aka: Clarke) to try “teleporting” you, especially when other people are blocking the “teleportation”.
“YOU HAVE NO HEAD” I took off my right shoe and examined my foot by the light the nearby resort’s street lamp. My foot was swollen. Assuming that I was bleeding internally, I put pressure on my ankle so I wouldn’t lose too much blood internally. Clarke, or perhaps a different voice, said, “You don’t have enough energy. You are losing it through your foot. You need to get energy from somewhere.” I didn’t know where, but might as well try. I tried to imagine sucking energy from the ground. At that point, the voice led me down a path that showed I was an idiot. He (or she) got very angry at me... Basically, pissed off. 1866 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I would later learn this anger was caused by a combination of my stupidity, people (from other planets) thinking that I was in league with the off-planet Hominids, and other events taking place all around Australia that night. Still sitting on the resin chair, on top of a four meter-tall dirt pile, I put my shoe back on. I looked down at the ground and saw my sitting shadow. It was cast by the resort’s street lamps... I think. “You have no head,” rebuked the telepathic voice. My head’s shadow disappeared, though the shadow of my headless body remained. “Look at your precious house.” I looked to the horizon. I couldn’t see my house at night, but I could see the silhouette of the hill it was built on top. Above my house was a large top-like cone-UFO glowing orange, at least 50 meters in diameter. “We are going to destroy your house.” The UFO rose a bit, with a black column below it. An image appeared in my head: My house, completely steel, was being torn apart and pulled up, like a stream of iron filings attracted to a magnet. While I didn’t want my house to be destroyed, all I could think of was: COOL. Not many people think that their house being vengefully dismantled by a UFO is “cool”. The voice lost its derision, or was now spoken by someone else: “We are going to get you off the planet now.” “Can you contact someone and tell them you will be away?”
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November 12, 2011 Yes. I pulled out my mobile phone and typed in a text message to my neighbour. I wrote that I would be gone for a week, and asking her to watch my bird. I didn’t know it at the time, but other people (from other planets) were trying to prevent me from sending the text message. They used technology to “befuddle” my mind. The act of thinking was as difficult as trudging through waist-high mud. I managed to get the message sent though... to my detriment, when my neighbours showed up the next morning thinking I was slightly crazy... and to my benefit, when people (from other planets) realized how stubborn I was. “Go back up your hill and see if your house is still there.” “And don’t forget the return the chair you borrowed.” I returned the chair and limped up the hill. My house was still there, but my brain wasn’t, so I didn’t particularly notice that my house was supposed to have not been there thirty minutes before.
ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I hobbled up my stairs and followed my elevated walkway to my bedroom wing. Before opening the door to go in, someone telepathically said, “Turn around.” I did so. A very-bright 2-mm UV-light appeared in front of me, about 6’ up. It was so bright that I had retinal burn for a week. (UV lights are used by people in encounter suits to 1868 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 see people in ordinary three-dimensional space. Being raised 6’ high meant the light was held by one of the saurians I had been telepathically chatting with for a few weeks.) “Look up.” I did so and saw a circular UFO, the same one that I photographed (with permission) a few months later. I smiled. This light was gone. I walked inside and fell asleep, still not off the planet.
DAY #4, NOT AT THE H OSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) Once home from the hospital, I slept well. My neighbour picked me up before lunch and took me to the Batchelor medical clinic, where the doctor gave me crutches and antibiotics. We then drove into Darwin to pick up my parents from the airport. Hearing that I was hospitalized, they had hurriedly purchased some plane tickets from the US to Australia. Throughout the day, my brain was working well, though I was very tired. Once back at my neighbour’s house, (I think) we ate dinner. I must have gone to sleep early. I don’t remember.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought A small percentage of hominids tend to “go terrorist” when they are losing. Multiply a small percentage by large nuclear explosions to produce devastation.
DAY #5 OF THE HOSPITAL (LATE JULY 2009) MORE HADES, ELYSIUM FIELDS, PURGATORY, W EIRDNESS My parents, neighbour, and I returned to the Darwin Hospital so I could get my cast put on. (The rural doctor couldn’t didn’t have the facilities for casts.) Weirdness hit as soon as I entered Darwin, and strengthened while I sat in the hospital waiting room. I felt the full force of the “imperius curse”. My brain numbed. I couldn’t think logically/sequentially. I couldn’t think intuitively. I once-again thought I was dead... because I was told so.
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November 12, 2011 The telepathic “spam” was a competing mix of aliens telling me one thing, and telepathic religious elite telling me I was in hell, or purgatory, or wherever... for the next 200 years. My brain was so far gone that whatever a voice suggested that I should do, I did... Harry Potter references entered the telepathic conversations, and I wandered aimlessly about looking for a “portkey” to take me off the planet. Sometimes the portkeys were day-glow blue. Other times they were identified by black linings. Etcetera. My parents had to chase after me and continually redirect me, kind of like the scene in “Sleeper” where Woody Allen wanders around aimlessly after being defrosted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeper_(film) ) They became concerned about my mental well-being, of course. Hours of telepathic spam later... A hospital worker finally put a temporary plaster cast on. It reduced the movement in my ankle, but didn’t support and immobilize my foot well.
A deeply random thought If telepathic voices suggest you get into a keypad-locked ward of the hospital while you’re brain-dead, just wait by the door. As soon as someone opens the door from the other side and walks though, sneak through the slowly-closing door.
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INTERVIEWED BY POLICE OFFICER DRESSED AS A DOCTOR We were about to leave the hospital... when my parents, neighbour, and I were directed into a small meeting room with very comfortable chairs. In the room was a “doctor” that asked my parents questions. He may also have asked me some questions. I don’t remember what the conversation was about. I recognized the “doctor” as a police officer that was acquainted with a lawyer-friend of mine. I had briefly met him a year before, while lunching at a restaurant with my friend. The under-cover(?) police officer didn’t recognize me. When I looked at him, I saw black “clown” diamonds painted around his eyes. I’m not sure if they were really there, or they were telepathically “painted on”. Meanwhile, I heard telepathic voices of different “aliens”, advising me that he was a police officer, along with other information that still makes little sense to me a year later. By the time we left the room to finally returned home, I didn’t know where, when, or why I was. People with brain-damage should NOT be kept awake for the entire day.
AWARENESS SPLIT BETWEEN TIMELINES? We didn’t drive home until dark. Sitting in the passenger seat, I couldn’t recognize any part of Darwin that we drove through. I felt like I existed in two realities at once... or perhaps my awareness was split between two timelines at once. 1872 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 In one reality, I was in a Honda CRV, being driven through Darwin and towards home, an hour’s drive away. At the same time, my mind’s eye perceived another reality where it was 2080, and spacecraft were rendezvousing for some unremembered reason. On the Stuart Highway, half an hour outside of Darwin, I saw a series blorple flashes illuminate the sky a few kilometres ahead. A flash occurred every few minutes, always far in front of the car. No one in the car mentioned seeing them. A telepathic voice misleadingly commented, “We are re-creating your reality for you. Your world was destroyed while you were in hospital. Those flashes are new sections of the world being recreated.” At the same time, my mind thought I was returning home 70 years later. There was very little oxygen, about 5%. Darwin had gone from tropical savannah to a semi-arid desert with only scrub. The city and surrounding rural area were abandoned, except for a few die-hard people who occasionally needed oxygen canisters to supplement the oxygen-weak atmosphere. I didn’t know this at the time, but in the alternate timeline, the Earth had been hit by neutron bombs. Its atmosphere was hydrogenized, and the hydrogen combined with oxygen. The oxygen level in the atmosphere had plummeted from 20% to 5%.
“TEAR OFF THAT CAST” Staying at my neighbour’s house for the night, my parents and neighbours ate dinner. I hobbled into a bedroom to sleep... for a few minutes. “Tear off that cast,” said a saurian woman. 1873 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My impression was that two saurian women wearing encounter suits were in the room, seeing how I was doing. “It isn’t doing you any good.” Having slept for awhile, my brain could judge whether telepathic commands/suggestions were worth listening to. The cast wasn’t tight enough to set my broken foot. It was pointless. I found some dull children’s scissors and cut off the light plaster cast. Just after I finished removing the cast, my parents entered, shocked that I had cut it off. If they didn’t think I was crazy from my morning’s “Sleeper” walk, they did now. The doctor, who lived nearby, arrived a few minutes later. Though he knew it wouldn’t do any good, he placed the bisected cast back on my foot and taped it together. Illogically, my parents felt happier about this solution. He also gave me a blue antipsychotic pill. Feeling that I had no choice but to accept the drug, I let it sublimate in my mouth.
THE LAST TIME I SAW A BLACK SKY I awoke a few hours later and silently walked outside to look at the stars. That was the last time I saw a black sky. Since then, even moonless nights are a dark blue-jean colour to my eyes. Despite the moonless night, only a handful of stars were out. Normally, I’d see the Milky Way. 1874 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We ran out of processing power rebuilding your world, and don’t have any left for the stars,” commented a telepathic voice.
A randomly deep thought How intelligent (and space-faring) are whales?
WHY THE EARTH IS VALUABLE (WRITTEN 3/6/10) The Earth is valuable to off-planet Hominids for the following reasons:
It has a large Homo Sapiens population in which high-tech Hominids can easily hide. The locals also act like “human shields” in the event of a war.
Because the Homo Sapiens on Earth believe that “they are alone in the universe”, they don’t know about extradimensional and “crowd-control” technologies. Consequently, they are easily controlled by the invisible technologies.
The indigenous Homo Sapiens are technologically-advanced enough that they can manufacture products such as computers (before disclosure), and other products after disclosure. High-tech weapons manufacturing could be introduced in the event of a war between the Hominid Empire(s) and other galactic civilizations... after disclosure.
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The large Homo Sapiens population could be recruited for “cannon fodder” in an imperial army. Obviously, empires are strongest when their military is all recruited from the same race.
The Earth comes with extensive built-in planetary defences.
If not used in war, the Earth’s planetary defences can be removed and sold.
Having more than two continents, the Earth’s crust is resource rich.
Being an ex-garden-planet, Earth has a tremendous biodiversity. Animal ancestors of many races can be found on Earth, enabling easy access to test subjects for the creation of biological and chemical weapons.
Earth is located near the centre of Orion spur, which is (to undiscerning eyes) primarily populated by easily-conquered “primitive” planets. (See “Avatar”. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_(2009_film) )
Hominid populations in the north-west and north-east of the Milky Way, combined with control of the Orion Spur, would create an isosceles triangle, facilitating further expansion into the Milky Way.
Earth is one of few Hominid planets that might be a good centre for a pangalactic Hominid Empire.
Earth is exceptionally “thick” extradimensionally.
Mars is valuable.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Never accidentally use Zebra-scented body wash (for Zebra-evolved people) when you’re a carnivore. Your (carnivore) friends will make jokes like, “You smell tasty,” and then lick their lips.
DAY #6 OF THE HOSPITAL INSANE ASYLUM (EARLY AUGUST 2009) “ACCIO PORTKEY” I awoke at my neighbour’s house, still not off the planet. While my parents were eating a late breakfast, the alien-originated telepathic voices started talking: “There is a portkey stone around here,” said an alien voice. “To find it, say “Atshio portkey”.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_spells_in_Harry_Potter) I wasn’t crazy enough to speak the incantation aloud, so I telepathically thought, “Atshio portkey”. Unlike Harry Potter’s broom, the portkey didn’t magically fly into my outstretched hand. “Maybe you have to speak it.”
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November 12, 2011 I walked about ten meters away, so my parents wouldn’t hear, and said, “Atshio portkey” very quietly. Nothing appeared. “No good. You may need to say it louder.” “Atshio portkey,” I said in a louder voice... perhaps loud enough for my parents to hear. “No, it isn’t working.” “You have to REALLY want the portkey to fly into your hand.” I concentrated... as hard as I could with a walnut-sized brain. “Atshio portkey.” My parents must have heard by then. “No, it’s not working.” “Just a minute.” I waited. “It won’t work because you’re saying it wrong.” “It’s “ATSIO portkey”.” That made perfect sense... not really. I recalled that the actors in Harry Potter said “Atshio”, but... Oh well. Six days previously, I had walked half-naked the death-adder infested Australian bush, at night, without shoes. “ATSIO portkey,” I said, strongly willing the portkey to appear. It worked in the movie... Nothing happened. My parents definitely heard. Oops. 1878 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HOW YOU KNOW YOU’RE CRAZY You know you’re crazy when: 5.
You are incanting magic spells (made up from the Harry Potter series) and speaking them aloud in front of your parents... who have flown all the way from the US because they have been told you are behaving oddly.
6.
You actually expect a portkey stone to come flying out of the Australian bush, in your general direction.
7.
You have a direct connection to J K Rowling’s pronunciation lexicon, via aliens, who tell you that you’re pronouncing the word “accio” incorrectly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J_K_Rowling)
8.
And the really crazy part... IF the spell had worked properly, I would have had a one-ton rock flying at 60 kmph in my general direction.
If I were a sufficiently high-tech alien, “Accio portkey” might have worked.
Instead of extradimensional strap-on weapons, some people (from other planets) have extradimensional strap-on “Accio” telekinesis bracelets.
Having said that, Newtonian physics still applies. If I were to use my hypothetical telekinesis bracelets to pull a 1.0 ton stone towards me at 60 kmph, weighing 75 kg myself... You do the math: The stone would hover towards me at approximately 4.19 kmph, and I would be hurled towards the stone at 55.81 kmph. (Yoda could never have used his telekinesis bracelets
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November 12, 2011 to lift the X-wing fighter out of the Dagobah swamp either. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dagobah)
Some high-tech people have Tardis-like UFOs (without the time travel). Apparently, my “Tardis” was a 1 ton rock, which is slightly cheaper to paint and clean than a 50 year-old blue UK police-box. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis)
Most Tardis-like UFOs don’t actually look like anything, especially not like police boxes. They’re invisible. Their owners merely have to think the right keywords (perhaps “Accio portkey”), and within minutes, they will be extradimensionally transferred into their UFO’s mud-room.
Sadly, I wasn’t a high-tech alien. I had no telepathic bracelets. I had not Tardis.
MORE TELEPATHIC SPAM After my parents finished breakfast, they drove me from my neighbour’s house to my house, half a kilometre away. My mother kept the car keys. While my parents cleaned up their temporary bedroom, I wandered around my house for awhile, relieved to be home, and happy that my nightmare was over. Within an hour, the telepathic spam started up in full force. All I wanted to do was get away. I wanted to jump in the car and take a ride to someplace distant. Why? I don’t know. 1880 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Getting away” sounded like a compelling idea to me... and it worked... Remember, I didn’t have my car keys. “Mom,” I said, “Lets go for a ride. I want to get out of here.” “No, no. We just arrived. Stay here,” she said. “No, I want to take a ride.” “Nope. We aren’t going anywhere.” She had my car keys. I was a child begging for a ride. ... but I had spare car keys! ...which I got a hold of a few minutes later. I drove off without my parents. After twenty minutes drive, I found an empty field and sat down in its centre. The telepathic spam that plagued me at home was (for the most part) gone. I relaxed. Chloe, another “grey” I had been telepathically talking to, found me with her UFO, the blue circular one in the night-time photograph from my first document. I could barely see the transparent UFO as a deep red. (Some UFOs can extradimensionally displace themselves towards infrared instead of ultraviolet.) “I’ll try to pick you up.” I sat in the field, waiting, hoping. Minutes passed. “I can’t do it. Your soul is too heavy.” (I’m still not sure what “Your soul is too heavy” meant.) Her UFO went invisible. Chloe eventually left. 1881 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I sat and enjoyed the telepathic silence for awhile. Then I drove back home.
A randomly deep thought At 100 insanity points, you are admitted to the Arkham institution for the insane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cthulhu_Mythos, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arkham) At 0 insanity points, you let a 17-year-old teenager decide your life’s career, have children at 25, retire at 59 ½ when your children leave home, move to Florida, and spend the rest of your life playing golf, smoking, and drinking yourself to death. All things in moderation; An insanity-point score of 30 – 70 is considered healthy.
100 INSANITY POINTS I returned home to find a police car parked in my driveway. My parents had called the police to begin a search for me. In ten minutes, my bag was packed, and I was driven back to the hospital, but instead of the emergency waiting room, I was taken to an adjoining “mental institution”. I was involuntarily, voluntarily admitted.
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A deeply random thought Does your sun look whiter or more yellow/orange than it used to? If so, your planet may have been “dunked” in an attack, or moved “out” as part of the planet’s defenses.
THE INSANE ASYLUM (EARLY AUGUST 2009) TELEPATHIC CONVERSATIONS I won’t detail my two-week experience(s) at the mental institution. Bullet points are quicker:
When I first walked through the doors, I thought that the mental institution would be the worst experience in my life. It wasn’t. It was sad though. The staff put a lot of effort into helping the clients. Most of the clients were oblivious to their efforts. I returned a few months later with a care package, including chocolatecovered coffee beans for the night shift. As friendly as the staff were, I never want to go back to the mental institution, though.
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November 12, 2011
The religious telepathic spam was horrendous.
I have never-ever been afraid to go to sleep. I was terrified of sleeping at night in the insane asylum because the telepathic religious wackos would verbally walk me through 4000 levels of hell. The feeling at night (the cruciatus curse?) was 10 – 100 times as bad as spending a night in a windowless hospital ward with curtained alcoves. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucio#Crucio_.28Cruciatus_Curse.29)
To make matters worse, I had quite a few philosophical discussions with people (from other planets), which were misunderstood and later misquoted by the religious-wacko voices. Simply put, telepathic conservative Christians think that saurians are demons, and anyone talking to saurians (or reptiloids) is in league with the devil.
The first night I arrived, a non-religious telepathic voice philosophically asked me, “Do you want to live in a world with angels and demons, or one with aliens?” I decided to live in a world with aliens.
One of the voices told me not to listen to the telepathic voices in my head... which is a bit of a brain teaser. Should I therefore NOT listen to the voice that was telling me not to listen to the voices?
MEDICAL TREATMENT My medical treatment consisted of:
The staff provided some basic activities to try to keep their clients busy... and from smoking the entire day. I didn’t smoke, so I appreciated the diversion.
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November 12, 2011 My antibiotics were clandestinely confiscated when I arrived. I was too “out of it” to realize that they were missing for a few days. I had only managed to take three pills out of a ten-pill prescription.
One member of the staff kept trying to push antipsychotic medication, while most others were happy that I refused medication.
I FINALLY got a (very good) permanent cast put on four days after being admitted.
A week-and-a-half after being admitted, I received an MRI to look for brain tumours.
o
No tumours were found.
o
MRIs are highly NOT recommended.
o
While the MRI was scanning my head, I felt a piece of metal near my heart being magnetically tugged at. This may have been an alien pacemaker.
Because no-one could determine why I had gone crazy, the doctors considered a Lumbar puncture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lumbar_puncture) Not wishing to undergo invasive surgery, or stay in the hospital any longer, I declined.
STRANGE EVENTS The strange events that happened at the mental institution were:
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November 12, 2011 One afternoon, I was telepathically informed that a saurian triangle ship was going to land and pick me up. I was asked to wave some palm fronds so I could be identified. I actually saw a large, transparent, violet triangle-ship hovering above the parking lot. The saurians weren’t allowed to land and rescue me from Earth, however. One staff-member found me soon afterwards, and sadly presented me with a blue antipsychotic pill, which I involuntarily voluntarily let sublimate in my mouth.
I was visited (at least once) by someone in a wavy suit. The person in this wavy suit was 5’ 6” – 6’ tall.
At night, the air in the room would get “stuffy”, as is typical when an extradimensional UFO is occupying the same three-dimensional space as you.
AM I INSANE? When I was telepathically chatting with saurians (and others) weeks before, I was 98% certain that I was sane. After three days of hospitalizations and a few days in the nearby mental institution, I questioned my sanity. Two events convinced me that I was (at least partially) sane:
The Northern Territory News (http://www.ntnews.com.au) was provided to read. A few days after my institutionalization the NT News included a photograph of a puff of smoke, which looked like it was floating in the hospital’s suburb. I wondered if (and hoped that) the puff of smoke was UFO related.
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One alien woman telepathically told me about mythical “air traders” on another planet. A group of six traders lived in a gondola on top of (or underneath?) a helium balloon. They travelled high-up in a very dense atmosphere, over a low-gravity planet that was mostly rainforest and ocean. The land dwellers below caught large 1-meter-long geckos, cut off their fatty tails for meat, and freed the geckos so they could regrow their tails. Some of the older land-dwellers, past child-bearing age, would take to the air and trade, living permanently in the air at specific elevations so they wouldn’t have to spend weeks repressurizing and depressurizing (aka: “the bends”, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decompression_sickness). The traders floating at the very top trapped (or traded with) large floating ballooncreatures to get the valuable helium, which was then traded downwards. It was high-up that the race saw their first UFOs. The ancient myth was written in a script based on macropod handprints. When I heard the myth, I knew my brain couldn’t be inventing the voices; I wasn’t creative enough to invent such a story.
A deeply random thought In a world where parents exist, invasion is part of the interview process, to test one’s military ability, determination, and cleverness. The pre-interview process includes an analysis of previous planetary management skills. People without prior successful management of a civilization need not apply. 1887 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MODUS OPERANDI (WRITTEN 6/6/10) The invading Hominid empire(s) spreads its infection by: 1.
Locating valuable planets with sizable industrialized hominid populations, such as the Earth.
2.
If the planet is undisclosed, they secretly infiltrate the society and take it over with their high-tech “crowd control”.
3.
If the planet is disclosed, they land as friendly hominids... and either negotiate positions of power, or clandestinely gain power.
4.
More and more off-planet hominids find their way onto the planet, often without the knowledge of the indigenous population.
5.
Nuclear weapons and planetary defences (ground-to-air and satellites) are smuggled onto the planet and (secretly) installed. Ground-to-air weaponry is often installed on top tall buildings, providing a better firing “field of view”, and using the occupants of the building below as “human shields”.
6.
From their new planetary base, the off-planet hominids begin invading (and/or attacking) other planets.
7.
Non-hominid races inevitably retaliate, blowing up the ground-to-air weaponry on top of the buildings, as well as any concentrations of off-planet hominids.
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November 12, 2011 8.
The off-planet hominids scatter cockroach-like into the local population, making it difficult for non-hominid races to find and hunt them down, and ensuring high indigenous civilian casualties.
9.
If the planet has NOT been disclosed to, the indigenous population wakes up one morning learning about an attack by reptiloids, “animal” people, “greys”, and/or arthropods. The off-planet hominids then “land” and disclose that they have arrived to help their fellow hominids. Public support is ensured.
10. If the planet has been disclosed to, then the indigenous population tends to support the off-planet hominids over the non-hominid attackers. 11. The cities of non-hominid races that attack the hominids are severely nuked in retaliation. 12. By the time the conflict is over, the hominid empire has gained another planet... or abandoned a counter-nuked wasteland.
Some planets with non-hominid “primitives” (hunter gatherers) have small settlements of friendly hominids: 1.
The empire hominids openly join the settlement.
2.
They (secretly) install ground-to-air defences and some defence satellites.
3.
They often “crowd control” the settlers.
4.
They often kill “troublemaker” settlers.
5.
They then “crowd control” the non-hominid “primitives”.
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November 12, 2011 6.
Eventually genocide them.
7.
If any space-faring non-hominid races fight to free the “primitives”, the cities of the attackers are severely nuked in retaliation. Terrorism is policy.
8.
And add yet another planet to the hominid empire(s).
Planets of “primitives” without existing hominid settlements can be taken over with virtually the same recipe.
A deeply random thought Pizza can be made with dozens of different toppings to choose from. Pizza is still pizza, though. After having eaten ONLY pizza my entire life, other foods are a welcome relief.
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PROVING TO MYSELF TH AT I HADN’T GONE INSANE (AUGUST 2009) After three weeks of hospitalization and mental institutions, my brain healthier, I questioned my sanity. Had I really been telepathically talking with “aliens”? Or was my brain malfunctioning and talking to itself? I temporarily assumed that my previous month’s experiences were the result of brain damage, and sought out new evidence that I had “jumped into the deep end” of disclosure. In the weeks following my escape/release from the mental institution, the observable facts were:
Telepathy – Telepathic spam was greatly reduced at home, compared to the hospital and mental institution.
Violet – I was seeing violet as a unique color. I knew I had never seen violet before.
Hearing UFOs – I frequently heard the low hum of UFOs.
Seeing triangular clouds – During the day, I would often look up and see triangular clouds.
Hearing loud white noise – When I would take walks (with crutches for my broken foot), I would hear loud white-noise in my right ear, and a negative sound-field (or nothing) in my left ear. If I turned around 180 degrees, the sound would be in my left ear.
Emergency beeps in my ear –While walking one day, I heard emergency beeps in my ear, kind of like a UK ambulance siren.
Small invisible triangular spy-bots – Inside, and outside, I would hear quiet computer-like fan noises, or buzzing, caused by small, triangular spy-bots. I 1891 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 could “chase them around” and the noise source would move away from me.
UFO lights at night – I would occasionally sneak out at night and look up at the stars… and the lights attached to UFOs parked above.
Cloud shapes on moonlit nights – On a few occasions, UFO pilots used their ships’ engines to create cloud shapes that were 100% NOT natural.
A deeply random thought When telepathic spam is at its worse, telepathy is like watching five television stations at once, all intermixed on one screen… while someone is flipping channels… with lots of religious commercials… and occasional shows from two years ago, or six months in the future.
PARENTS WON’T LEAVE (AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2009) After my “Sleeper” day at the hospital, trying to cast “Accio portkey”, driving off with my car, and then being committed to a mental institution, I couldn’t tell my parents, “The aliens made me do it.” They would have stuck me right back in the insane asylum. As far as my parents knew, something happened to my brain and I went crazy. 1892 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 They wouldn’t leave. “You don’t need to be here,” I said. “All I do is sleep [to recover from my brain damage], and get driven to the supermarket once a week.” “You are bored here.” “The build-up is coming with 39c temperatures and you’ll do nothing all day but sit under a fan.” “You need to return home and do all the usual chores, like paying bills that would be piling up.” “You are making your relatives go out of their way to maintain your house and deal with your mail, while you just sit around here watching me sleep.” No matter how much I tried to rationalize with them, they wouldn’t leave. I eventually convinced them to purchase returning plane-tickets for late September, when they finally left. I was “abducted” just over a week after they left.
A deeply random thought Red-ruffed lemur-evolved parents buy their children cotton candy on bath nights; the sugary strands stick to their children’s’ fur. “Take a bath or you’ll have ants all over you by morning” is NOT a threat.
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PAN-GALACTIC POLITICS, AND WHERE HOMINIDS FI T IN (WRITTEN 11/6/10) HOMINID CONTROL STACK
The Great Hominid Empire is controlled by high-tech Hominids on top, with the lowest-tech non-disclosed Hominids on bottom.
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November 12, 2011 Political control is from the top down, sometimes in the form of “crowd control”.
Hominids (such as Homo Sapiens) at the very bottom of the Empire have no idea that they’re part of an empire, or even that life exists on other planets. Earth is very easy to crowd control because (a) people on Earth don’t know that the technology can exist, (b) people on Earth don’t know that life exists off planet, and (c) people on Earth (in general) don’t “crowd control” other people.
Hominids higher up in the empire have better technology, and are employed to “crowd control” lower-tech Hominids.
Higher-tech hominids require increasingly-sophisticated methods to “crowd control” them.
The high-tech Hominids at the top of the stack are aware of the “crowd control” methods beneath them. They are incredibly paranoid of having someone “crowd control” them from above. If anyone were crowdcontrolling them from above, the high-tech Hominids would have to have crowd-control technology so sophisticated that they would never-ever detect or suspect it… and/or nearly the entire population would need to be controlled.
Since mono-meta-racial empires are the most cohesive, all empire layers should be mostly Hominid.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought How do you explain to someone that you’re talking to UFOs, let alone their occupants?
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WHO INFLUENCES THE G REAT HOMINID EMPIRE?
Hominid control stack – As described above.
Hominid-empire’s “business partners” – These are other races (and nations) that the Hominid Empire has promised rewards, such as colonization planets.
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November 12, 2011 In World War II, Italy would be considered a “business partner”. By the way, Germany eventually invaded Italy.
Hominid-empire supporters – These mostly non-hominid races (and nations) stand to gain from the Hominid Empire’s expansion. For example: They might purchase the lower-cost resources mined from planets occupied by the Hominid Empire. Importantly, they wish the Hominid Empire to succeed, but not so much that the Hominid Empire becomes more powerful/technological than them.
Hominid-empire enemies – These mostly non-hominid races (and nations) wish the Hominid Empire to fail. Importantly, they wish the Hominid Empire to lose and fall apart. For this to happen though, the Hominid Empire must believe that it is winning a tough battle, tough enough to commit a lot of resources and troops, while actually losing spectacularly.
Unknown high-tech nations – If they exist, these races (and nations) don’t care if the Hominid Empire wins or loses, so long as: If it wins, the Hominid Empire is greatly weakened, and if it loses, the Hominid Empire is greatly weakened… … and, they may find the effects of a massive pan-galactic war desirable. For example: If a weakened Nazi Germany were to gain control of Europe (while NOT invading the Soviet Union), Stalin’s Soviet Union could have swept west, taking over a weak German Empire that spanned Europe. The amount that the “unknown high-tech nations” influence the Hominid Empire and the war is unknown.
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A randomly deep thought A race should NOT form a mega-Empire, start a multi-galactic invasion, and kill seven quintillion (or more) people. This really pisses off other races, many of whom have prepared viruses and malarias against said race ahead of time. Unfortunately, members of said race who are NOT in the empire will inevitably be unintentionally infected by the viruses and malarias.
“ABDUCTION” (OCTOBER 2009) “TELEPORTED” (THE HIGHLY NOT-RECOMMENDED WAY OF B EING ABDUCTED) Just over one week after my parents left, I put some flour, water, and yeast into my bread maker to mix into pizza dough. I had the impression that something would happen that night… “Walk out onto your deck,” requested a telepathic voice. I did so. “Stand still.” “Slowly turn around and face your balustrade.” 1899 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Now, take a step forward.” I did so. “Take two more steps.” I was now standing just in front of my deck’s balustrade, overlooking the valley below my house. A triangle-ship was hovering a few hundred meters above in the dark, observing. It was somehow implied to me that the triangle ship was an Aurora spy-plane, but it may have been from off planet. I would later learn that if it was an Aurora, it was NOT flown by Americans, but by off-planet Hominids. I heard the gentle clink or two of water glasses inside the kitchen. I remained still and didn’t investigate. “Hold out your left hand,” said Chloe telepathically. I did so. “A bit lower.” I lowered my hand. “Open it up.” Thirty seconds later I felt someone lightly grasp my hand. I turned my head slowly to look, and saw semi-transparent grey fingers holding my hand. “Hold out your right hand.” I did so.
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November 12, 2011 I knew, or was informed, that Chloe was standing to my left, invisible but for her hand. Someone was to my right, invisible. And someone tall stood behind me, also invisible. “Seven other people are also here to make sure you’re safe. Four are higher, and three are lower,” said another voice. I didn’t know what that meant at the time. “Stand there.” Chloe didn’t seem to hear the other telepathic voices. I stood still for minutes. “Stand as still as you can.” My bread-maker beeped, indicating that my pizza dough was mixed and raised. “Keep standing still.” I began to feel nauseous, and then light-headed. I’m going to faint, I said telepathically. I began to lean forward to grasp the balustrade for support. Blank.
A deeply random thought This is the document I wish I had read BEFORE I went insane.
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WAKING UP, BACK ON MY DECK I woke up, lying on my deck, looking up at my roof. It was telepathically quiet. I could see “blue tinglies” above; I would later learn that they are an indicator of a time-warping field. I felt like crap. After a few moments, I gradually sat up, then crawled over to the kitchen doorway, and sat down against the door. I heard Chloe’s telepathic voice say something, a bit confused. I didn’t hear from her again that night. I found it difficult to breathe, like my mouth was covered with a semi-permeable cling-wrap. I didn’t know what to do, so I opened my mouth wider to breathe. That helped slightly. It felt like something lightly stretched across my mouth. I cleared it out of my mouth with my hand. I could neither feel it with my hand, see it, nor taste it. My breathing improved as soon as I pulled in invisible cling-wrap away. A minute later, breathing once again became difficult. I cleared my mouth of the invisible cling-wrap again. I later learned that this was a baryonic bubble used to keep people (somewhat) safe during “teleportation”… the same “stuff” that Clarke used a month previously.
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November 12, 2011 After sitting for twenty minutes, my strength and wherewithal returned enough that I staggered up, opened the kitchen door, and went in. The telepathic image of Gollum (from the Lord-of-the-Rings movies) flashed through my mind. Abigail, not a “grey”, would show me that image when she was around or involved. I believe she created the time-bending field. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj411At8VRI)
http://www.moviemobsters.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/gollum.jpg
My pizza dough smelled rank and was crusty; it had been sitting in the bread maker for a long time. I looked at the clock, subtracted twenty minutes, and noticed that one hour and thirty minutes had passed. It was telepathically quiet. Thirsty for juice, I downed at least a liter of fruit juice. 1903 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 It was still telepathically quiet. Too ill to be hungry, I put the crusty pizza dough in the freezer and went to sleep in my bed.
A randomly deep thought Now that you know that Lord Voldemort exists, Lord Voldemort knows that you exist. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Voldemort)
MY BUTT HURTS I awoke the next morning. My butt hurt, approximately where my tailbone was. One of the reasons why I DIDN’T get a Lumbar puncture (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lumbar_puncture) at the hospital was because some of the “aliens” I was telepathically talking to at the insane asylum suggested they could perform one more safely, and with a quicker recovery time. My butt only hurt for a week, much less time than it would have taken for me to recover from Lumbar-puncture surgery in the Darwin hospital. And there wasn’t any scar… that I could feel. 1904 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A few weeks later, I noticed that my entire tailbone seemed to have gone missing. Someone must have kept it as a keepsake.
A deeply random thought If I ever get a UFO, I want it to be like Doctor Who’s Tardis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis)
I want a cloister bell, whatever that is… or at least a disco ball in the centre of the UFO. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloister_bell#C)
I want a large lever-knob to close the door.
And I want a big red button labeled, “Take me anywhere interesting… but Earth, or any other Hominid planet… or Mokeyville”
Washing-machine dematerialization sounds are optional.
AFTERWARDS I later learned that I couldn’t be taken off planet because any attempt to do so would have resulted in the destruction of the ship where the surgery happened, and the deaths of everyone inside.
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November 12, 2011 I have yet to receive a complimentary DVD of my abduction from whoever was flying the triangle ship.
A randomly deep thought How many people have Facebook pages (www.facebook.com) with friends from their adult life, but no friends from their high school and/or university? Real friends from high school and university also have lots of real friends, who have lots of other real friends.
MORE PAN-GALACTIC NEWS (WRITTEN 11/6/10) Some more news:
30b – 40b (nearly all non-Hominids) are dead in the Orion Spur.
250b – 350b are dead in the Milky Way.
300t – 450t are dead in the worst war-ravaged galaxies in the local cluster.
7000t are dead in the local cluster... which might actually have 48 galaxies.
The main planet of the local Homo Sapiens Empire had 30m – 60m people die from a nuclear exchange.
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November 12, 2011 The local Homo Sapiens Empire has been “de-civilized”, much like post-war Europe.
The Homo Gattaca Empire is not far behind.
Squadrons of Hominid space-plane “fighters” routinely nuke every major city on target planets.
Half-kilometre-plus spherical ships are part of a preliminary invasion force from a Hominid empire “down below”.
Dozens of planets have been “dunked” in the Milky Way by these ships.
In other galaxies, high-tech Hominids have pushed planets in the way of inhabited planets. Planets owned and occupied by the elder races are often targeted.
Many friendly Hominid planets (such as Earth) are being protected from the Great Hominid Empire, like “nature reserves” protecting endangered species.
A deeply random thought Pika-evolved fashion tip #85 – Never run your buttons down the center of your shirt/blouse. Place them on the right side, a bit further back than mid-way. Place identical but functionless buttons on the left side. Pika-evolved people are fashion experts because they mostly look and smell the 1907 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 same to one another. Fashion lets them easily identify each other… and confuse one another when they swap wardrobes.
PISSED-OFF TRIANGLE UFO (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) After my parents left, I resumed taking walks at night, gazing at the stars and the lights from parked UFOs. One night, I noticed a materialized triangle ship half a kilometre up. A ship-sized triangle-shaped beam of white lite emanated from the top of the ship and pointed diagonally into the sky. The pilots didn’t wish me to take any photos of their display, so I didn’t pull out my camera. After sleeping a few hours, I looked for the triangle ship again; this time, the light was more oblique, travelling at least twenty kilometres. The pilots were aiming their light at a satellite installed by off-planet Hominids. Over the new few months, spy and weapons satellites positioned by off-planet Hominids were destroyed. Such satellites prevent disclosure because they are used to spy on disclosure efforts, shoot down spaceplanes, destroy city blocks, and assassinate people.
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A randomly deep thought The individual defeats the dictator.
DESENSITIZING EARTH’S PHOBIC METAORGANISM (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) If someone is phobic about bees, they may first be handed the tiny leg of a dead bee. After they don’t break into a sweat from holding a 2mm leg, they are handed the abdomen of a dead bee. Then the entire body of a dead bee. Then a live bee without a stinger. Then one with a stinger. Sometimes, it is better to untie a Gordian Knot slowly, rather than cutting it.
A randomly deep thought UFO crashes aren’t always accidental. Sometimes UFOs are shot down by enemies. Sometimes the enemies expect the UFO to disappear into extradimensional space (as they expected to happen at Roswell). Other times, they expect the UFO to be found. If someone is phobic about bees… (see above) 1909 | P a g e
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DESENSITIZATION – VISIBLE UFOS (OCTOBE R 2009 – PRESENT) Earth’s metaorganism is being desensitized to seeing UFOs using:
Cloud monsters.
A “kite” cloud created by a bored UFO pilot.
Jet-airplane-like UFOs clearly visible during the day.
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November 12, 2011
UFO sightings. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuanP2P41_I)
An organization could intentionally “crash” a UFO, delivering it to one or more major countries.
A deeply random thought “Liberals”, in general, don’t like telling other people what to do so long as the other people AREN’T significantly harming others, and/or harming themselves. Liberals don’t like telling people what to do because they DON’T like being told what to do by other people. The most intelligent people (IQ 140+) generally don’t like telling people what to do because most advice they receive from other people (IQ < 140) is crap, and they know it. 90% of all advice is crap. 90% of all advice about advice is crap. 90% of all crappy advice about crap is advice.
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November 12, 2011
DESENSITIZATION – INFORMATION DISCLOSU RE (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) ABDUCTEE BOOKS Relatively few people have been abducted since the late 1980’s. Many abductees are traumatized by their abduction experience. (http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-My-Wildest-DreamsAbductee/dp/1879181258/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1264289237&sr=8-1) Those people not traumatized are often rescued from the planet before they can write a book. Therefore, few non-traumatized abductees write books, let alone coherent books. Books take 18-24 months to write and publish, and only sell tens-of-thousands of copies. Consequently, there ain’t many books that tell the non-traumatized-side of abduction... and even fewer people read them. (The last successful abductee book was Whitley Strieber’s Communion, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Communion_(book)).
MY ABDUCTEE BOOK – WHICH IS NOT A BOOK, AND WHEREIN I COULDN’T MANAGE TO G ET ABDUCTED Welcome to the internet, and .pdf publishing, where anyone can quickly download “books” for free and then virally distribute them to friends. 1912 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I began this series of documents in November 2009, as a letter targeted at 10 –100 politicians. I E-mailed the politicians... but didn’t receive much of a response. This was expected: No politician can admit (via a documented reply E-mail) to reading such bizarre ideas as the existence of extraterrestrial life without ridicule. Neither can politicians admit to hearing voices from cranially embedded cell-phones (aka: telepathy), let alone talking to “aliens”. Noticeably, the amount of telepathy/kill/venom-bot harassment I received suddenly increased after E-mailing the politicians. Having not received any responses, I began writing a more detailed document in January, http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf, intended for 1000 – 10,000 readers. I E-mailed the document to politicians and posted on forums. A month later, I E-mailed several UFO photos to the local TV news station. The TV weather report displays people’s weather photographs (nice sunsets, clouds, etc.) behind the temperature and rain forecast. I labelled the photos “Weather balloons” (after the US military’s cover-up of Roswell) and “weather effects”, and included a link to my documents. A reporter got the irony and responded with a cryptic message; they must have forwarded the viral document to their journalist friends. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_Incident) Not coincidentally, kill/venom-bot activity increased suddenly. Obviously, the metaorganism didn’t like people learning about “weather balloons”. Since then, I have updated the document as advised, and performed occasional Emailings and postings on forums.
ACTION ITEMS
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November 12, 2011 Please forward this document to any friends, enemies, UFO people, politicians, science fiction writers, etc. that you think would be interested. Science fiction writers, feel free to use the ideas from these “copy-left” documents. To avoid “UFO embarrassment”, you could title the E-mail, “The biggest brain f*** ever – UFOs and aliens”, or “A pissed-off [happily-abducted] geek with a typewriter”.
A randomly deep thought The Cauchy’s integral theorem –A closed loop integral around a singularity is a multiple of 2i. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cauchy's_integral_theorem) In other words, if you fly a loop around a black hole, you end up somewhere else. There are no black holes (or pure singularities), but there are really-really big planets, called stars.
DESENSITIZATION – CONTACTEES (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) The people (from other planets) working on disclosure are seeking “contactees” for various tasks, such as being beta-testers for technologies new to Earth.
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November 12, 2011 They are looking for intelligent risk-takers, preferably unemployed; Being a “contactee” is taxing due to physical and mental stresses. If the “alien” disclosure team is interested in your help, they will contact you telepathically soon after jamming a free cell-phone into your head. Don’t E-mail me about this. Beware of “fakes”, particularly marketing angels. Even if you aren’t telepathically contacted, please forward these documents to any friends that might be good contactees, or who might enjoy the read.
A deeply randomly thought You never know… 99% of all visitors reach Australia via airplane on flights so long the travelers are guaranteed to fall asleep. What if the Qantas airplanes were really UFOs, and while all the passengers were asleep (after eating their ice cream), the airplane-UFO hyperspaced its way to another planet, with nothing but crystal-blue oceans and the continent of Australia.
DESENSITIZATION – BETA-TESTING TECHNOLOGIES (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) 1915 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A portion of the “alien” disclosure team has been beta-testing technologies new to earth... on contactees. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beta_testing#Beta_testing) For example:
Beta-testers have helped designers make telepathy implants friendlier for Earth-based homo sapiens.
Various augmentations, such as improved colour vision and enhanced olfactory senses. (PS – Don’t go for the enhanced olfactory senses.)
See Homo Sapiens Alienii. The Smilodon-evolved races are particularly aggressive marketers; contactees living in California are automatically signed up to either the Smilodon or woolly-mammoth plans... and no-one ever wants to be a woolly mammoth.
Other products, such as Viagra-saur™ (for men and women), etc. are being beta-tested.
A randomly deep thought Arthropod children achieve a 360-degree IMAX effect by squashing their faceted eyes against a small TV screen. Unfortunately, this leads to “flat-eye”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imax)
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November 12, 2011
DESENSITIZATION – GETTING PEOPLE OFF THE PLANET (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) Here’s why I couldn’t (and still can’t) be taken off the planet: The blocking technology preventing me from getting off the planet in August through October was higher than the “official” technology-level permitted for this zone of the galaxy. ... which meant that something strange was happening, and that some very hightech organizations didn’t want Homo Sapiens to get off the planet... unless they were part of the Great Hominid Empire’s staff. The “alien” disclosure team is confident that other contactees and I can be taken off planet with the best abduction technologies available to them. However, since the pan-galactic war is intertwined with Earth’s disclosure, a strategic decision was made to try rescuing contactees with low-tech techniques and gradually ramp up to high-tech methods. That way, any war enemies (who were also potentially preventing contactees from getting off planet) wouldn’t learn how good the best “abduction” technology was. Since abduction technology is related to war-effort technology, it is better that the Great Hominid Empire (and friends) not learn how good our best war/abduction technology is. The gradual ramp-up also helps the disclosure team identify who is trying to prevent disclosure. Some contactees were successfully flown off planet a few months ago. After several died in the process of evacuation, the sub-project was temporarily suspended. Part of the problem was that implanted listening, tracking, and explosive/venom devices either prevented the contactees from being secretly rescued, enabled them to be quickly tracked down once off planet, or killed them soon after entering the spaceplane. 1917 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For various reasons, I couldn’t participate in this program.
A deeply random thought Where would you live if you were an off-planet Hominid? You’d find work in Washington DC and/or the high-tech military-industrial complexes. You’d have a weekender in Montana (and nearby states). If you had zero insanity points, Florida would be an attractive place to retire.
DESENSITIZATION – AWARENESSES (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) “Furries”, “otherkin”, and people claiming to have past/concurrent lives have been ridiculed by the metaorganism. Non-hominid (and hominid) awarenesses, from people whose bodies have died, are being introduced and merged with contactees on Earth. The effort is particularly popular with “furries”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furries) 1918 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Seeking volunteers to accept people’s awarenesses. Poor $$$. Lousy hours. Good way to make friends.
LEVELS OF INVISIBILI TY OF RACES AND NATI ONS High-technology races/nations attempt to stay hidden so that they’re not attacked by lower-technology races/nations who wish (a) to be “king of the mountain”, and/or (b) acquire new technology manufacturing abilities before their race is “ready”.
Some methods that a race/nation can use to remain invisible are: 0
The race lives on a completely-visible planet.
1
The race’s planet, and perhaps their star, are extradimensionally offset so low-tech spaceplanes can’t find them.
0a, 1a
2
Planets are hidden by circular shades that obscure the planet from unauthorized spaceplanes. The race’s planet is extradimensionally “rotated” so that is visible to only mid-tech spaceplanes.
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November 12, 2011 4
The race inhabits very deep or tricky-to-get-to layers on exceptionally thick planets.
5? (or more)
The race lives in floating cylinder space-cities that can be hidden. The cities are designed so that they safely “dissemble” into automaticallyhiding sections when they are attacked.
5? (or more) 6? (or more) 6? (or more) 8? (or more) 10 ? (or more)
The race might live permanently on TARDIS-like UFOs. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis) The race’s planets are mobile, with invisibility fields that make the planet difficult to see. The race occupies mobile and hidden solar systems.
The race occupies mobile and hidden mini-galaxies.
The race has its own custom “space” with customized “physics”.
A randomly deep thought Your attached and floating souls can have listening devices attached, as well as be infected with parasites. Some of the parasites are semi-intelligent, and able to act as biological implants, communicators, and control “devices”. (http://sttng.epguides.info/?ID=332)
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DESENSITIZATION – GETTING NON-HOMINIDS ON THE PLANET (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) The converse of getting contactees off planet, is landing non-hominid people on planet. Bearing in mind that the enemy is always watching and to understand technology that is potentially war related, only low-tech methods were attempted. Physically landing a spaceplane, the lowest tech, was too dangerous since they are easily blown up. Encounter suits, the next technology-level up, were tried. Again, the goals of the project were to (a) see how the metaorganism would react, (b) determine what technology level was necessary to land, and (c) determine what organizations wished to prevent landing by non-hominids. If landing was successful, one of the plans was to either land “aliens” directly into politicians’ houses, or in the homes of contactees and have the contactees drive the “aliens” to the politicians. Contactees’ houses are better because they are more trustworthy, and they often live in rural areas. (PS – Never let horse-evolved people drive your car. Thylacine-evolved people complain about motion sickness. And just about everyone complains about the lack of tail holes and cup holders.) I participated in this program. The program has been temporarily halted. I will discuss more about this later.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Who stood to benefit from John F Kennedy’s assassination? Who stood to benefit from Ronal Regan’s assassination?
DESENSITIZATION – FINDING OFF-PLANET HOMINIDS (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) The Great Hominid Empire has been preventing disclosure, while hypocritically travelling to and from Earth using their own spaceplanes. Their efforts include directing spy/kill/venom-bot attacks against contactees, preventing non-hominid landings, contactee rescues, and controlling spy and weapons satellites. As both part of disclosure and the pan-galactic war effort, off-planet Hominids on Earth are being identified and monitored. Dangerous ones, those who control weapons (satellites, nuclear bombs, and guns) and spy/kill/venom-bots are particularly worrisome. Their spaceplanes have also been monitored, and, for the most part, disabled. Importantly, MOST off-planet hominids on Earth are NOT working for the Great Hominid Empire. If you discover any, DO NOT become a vigilante.
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A randomly deep thought The low-tech mongoose-people’s planet has 60m-diameter mining sinkholes left by illegal high-tech mining. If you are one of the illegal miners, never stand on the edge of one of your mining sinkholes to relieve yourself; you might just get pushed from behind by a pissed-off low-tech mongoose.
DESENSITIZATION – THE WAR (OCTOBER 2009 – PRESENT) Oh yeah, did I mention the war? The inability to disclose to the Earth is tied in with the Great Hominid Empire’s invasion and desire to impede disclosure. Disclosure on non-hominid planets has also proven difficult (to impossible) in the last 50 years. These difficulties might be linked to a “pre-war”.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Imagine a shallow stream with exposed stepping-stones peppered around. As any hiker knows, the best way to cross the stream (without getting your shoes soaked) is to step from rock to rock. If you are too slow and cautious, you first test the rock to make sure it’s stable, and then step on the rock with both feet. If the rock isn’t large enough, one foot will inevitably slip off the rock. Or, you may lose your momentum and be unable to reach the next stepping stone. People who cross at a walking-pace only ever place one foot on each stepping stone. If you run across, you can briefly put weight on tipsy stepping stones, leaping off before they pivot into the water. Really fast people can step on semi-submerged stones without water seeping into their shoes. The moral of the story: Do not spend all your time trying to prove the existence of UFOs (let alone their inhabitants) to skeptics.
THE ANCIENT ART OF ENERGY ACQUISITION... AND WAR (WRITTEN 21/6/10) Unlike small spaceplanes and domestic/commercial power supplies, many weapons of war require significant amounts of quickly-releasable energy. A stereotypical method of acquiring such energy sources is: 1.
Uranium, plutonium, and other fissile materials, can be purchased legally (which is tricky) or mined from planets invisibly (which is tricky).
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November 12, 2011 2.
Fissile materials are then used to produce efficient nukes, neutron bombs, and reality bombs.
3.
Efficient nukes are used to invade medium-value planets rich in natural resources... such as those with uranium, plutonium, and other fissile materials.
4.
Occupied medium-value planets are more-easily mined for fissile materials. Repeat, acquiring and producing more nuclear explosives.
5.
Killing off large populations of younger races (often on low and mediumvalue planets) not only disrupts the galaxy’s economy, but forces the elder races to show themselves and their technology.
6.
Large quantities of fissile heavy metals can be turned into large “cores” for military (and/or very large) spaceplanes.
7.
Spaceplanes with large cores have enough energy to “dunk” planets, effectively turning the planet’s sun reddish or bluish. A planet or moon that is dunked far enough is freed from the sun’s (or planet’s) gravitation pull. Dunking a planet or removing its moon severely damages the planet’s war economy.
8.
Large cores that are debris from large destroyed military spaceplanes can be hurled towards a planet, devastating a city and causing large earthquakes.
9.
An enlarged military with copious nuclear explosives can invade high-value planets (with a long-lasting molten cores)... which often means their cores are rich in fissile materials (and other heavy metals).
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November 12, 2011 10. The fissile molten core of the planet can be used to power the planet, turning it into a large spaceship... a mobile/roving planet, with shields and weapons. 11. The power-supply of mobile planets can be used to move planetoids into place, and launch attacks on other planets. Small planetoid (or large meteor) impacts can create massive earthquakes and tidal waves. Attacking planets with planetoids is like “curling”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curling) 12. Elder races hiding on planets quickly flee a surprise planetoid attack in their spaceplanes; they are then attacked by squadrons of fighters as they flee. This disrupts the war economies of elder races, and potentially genocides them. 13. Since elder races often live on valuable planets, attacking elder races with small planetoid attacks leads to the acquisition of valuable planets. Large planetoid attacks render the planet unusable for millions of years. 14. Once enough quickly-releasable energy resources are acquired, suns can be moved or destroyed, rending entire solar systems unusable. 15. Capture enough suns, and an attacker has enough energy to capture a galactic core. 16. Capture the galactic core to take over the galaxy... maybe, maybe not.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought If your sun turns blue, is stolen, or exploded, you can expect:
A few weeks of hurricane-force winds as the planet’s surface temperatures equalize. The winds eventually calm and air stagnates.
Shrubbery will die after around 10 days.
Grass-eating animals will begin to perish after 20 days.
Most people won’t freeze to death for at least 100 days.
Please, do NOT call the authorities if your sun goes out or is stolen. We monitor suns daily and will work to repair or reclaim your sun. In the event that your sun is destroyed, a replacement sun will be mailed to you in 6 – 8 weeks; postage and handling not included.
ANGBA (FEBRUARY 2010) LANDING “We’re going to attempt another landing tonight.” “Put your shoes on in case we melt the floor; you don’t want to lose the bottom of your feet.” “Remember your torch.”
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November 12, 2011 I assembled my gear, exited my bedroom wing, and walked into my star-lit living wing, which also included my kitchen and dining areas. At the far end of the wing, the floor was elevated four meters above the ground... perfect for an encounter suit landing... except for the copious amounts of steel in my house. “Turn your torch on.” I pointed my LED torch at my feet and turned it on. “Walk forward slowly.” I took a few steps forward and stopped at the edge of my kitchen section, looking at my ironwood table at the far/elevated end of the living wing. “Just wait there.” Pause. “I’m dematerializing,” said Angba telepathically. I waited and watched. I telepathically “saw” a glimpse from within her encounter suit. I was a grey figure slightly visible against a grey background. “Don’t do that,” she said. “My suit doesn’t like it.” I blanked my mind. A few minutes later, a shadow gradually appeared at the far end of my table. All of the chairs had been cleared away from the table. “Step forward, holding the torch down. Don’t point it at me.” I slowly stepped forward. Angba was nervous; entering someone’s home with an encounter suit while they were awake was dangerous. 1928 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Slowly walk up to the table so I can see you better.” Light pointing down, I approached the table, Angba on the opposite side. “Point the light up at yourself.” I rotated the light up, illuminating my body. “Good. I know where you are.” I re-pointed the light at my feet. “I am melting the floor here. I need to move.” “Can you slowly walk counter-clockwise around the table?” Angba’s semi-shadow faded as I walked around the table to where she had stood. Once on the other side, I looked across the table to where I had been. Her semi-shadow stood there. “I am wearing a silver suit.” “It’s actually quite roomy in here.” “I can pull my arm out of the suit’s arm.” Angba did so, and her shadow’s form changed. While she was demonstrating, Angba continued dematerialization. She put her arm back into her suit’s enclosed sleave. “It’ll take me twenty minutes to dematerialize.” I waited, watching.
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A randomly deep thought Never watch Steven Spielberg’s mini-series, Taken, with (people formerly known as) “greys”. They will spend the first two hours pointing out historical inaccuracies, such as white light-bulbs (not yellowish-pink) in 1950’s houses, and that the series understates the number of murders that resulted from the crash. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taken_(TV_miniseries) )
TROUBLE After a few minutes, Angba leaned forward and put her hands on the table to hold her weight. “This isn’t working. I’m [my hands are] melting the table.” Angba sidestepped to the right to reach a bit of unmelted floor and table. Several minutes later: “I’m tired. I can’t stand anymore.” “Dematerializing is very tiring.” “Do you have a metal chair I can sit on?” No. I have a step ladder. “That won’t work. I need a flat piece of steel for my back.” “Any other chairs?” I have a canvas chair. 1930 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 There was a pause. “I think I can adjust my suit so she won’t fall through the chair.” “Position the chair to my left.” Angba’s shadow faded away. I slowly walked to where the chair had been stored, and carried it to a spot near a metal support beam. Angba could grab onto the dense steel if she needed. I oriented the chair towards the outside of the room, and stepped several paces away from the chair. Angba’s shadow reappeared in front of the chair. In the dark starlight, I couldn’t tell if she turned around. Her hands carefully touched the chair’s ironwood arms, and she sat down. Her butt slid through the fabric. “I need to adjust my suit so it won’t pass through the chair.” She stood up slightly, pulling the fabric with her as it stuck “inside” her shadow field. The canvas eventually lost its grip and fell down. Angba sat down again, this time without sliding through the canvas seat. Angba then gradually leaned back. Her back slid through the canvas back of the chair, swivelling the wood support columns slightly. “Your back went through the back of the chair,” I said. “That explains the proximity alert I just got.” Angba leaned forward and then back again. 1931 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Her back seemed more solid; the canvas was pushed by her back. And then it went through. The fabric faded to grey and then became transparent. “I’m going to try adjusting the back,” I said. I walked forward slowly and tried to push one of the ironwood support columns that the fabric was tensioned onto. By that point, the support column was grey and turning invisible. My hand went through the wood. “Don’t touch the wood,” said someone. In front of me, Angba sat, with her back juxtaposed through the chair-back’s fabric. She no longer looked like a shadow, but a silvery, semi-transparent form. “Mike, get out of there.” “You’re in danger. Hurry.” “We’ll help her,” said someone else. I received the impression that several people in suits stood on either side of the chair.
AFTERWARDS I walked down my driveway as directed, around half a kilometre from the house. I stood there for half an hour, and was told I could return. 1932 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Angba wasn’t sitting in the chair anymore. I later learned that Angba had been shot by a bot while she sat and her suit disabled, causing an emergency “freezing” sequence to activate in her encounter suit. She was “thawed” in a spaceplane that was monitoring the landing, and then flown to a hospital... perhaps on Raaka. She died a month later, potentially assassinated.
The landing project was halted.
A randomly deep thought A neutron bomb the size of a golf-ball can detonate in the hall of a sitting parliament and kill everyone within weeks. Encourage members of parliament to call sickies (Australian for “sick days”) so that some parliamentarians will be healthy enough to pick up the pieces.
CONTIGUOUS HYPER-DIMENSIONAL MATRICES (CHYMS) And now for some technical stuff that should interest physicists and mathematicians... and put everyone else to sleep. 1933 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
OUR MATRIX MATH Algebra – X = ax + by + cz. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Algebra)
Matrix – (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matrix_(mathematics) )
Vector – (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euclidean_vector)
Matrix multiplication – X = ax + by + cz, Y = dx + et + fz, Z = gx + hy + iz. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matrix_multiplication)
1934 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Eye-drop monster – An invisible medical-bot obsessed with applying eye-drops.
CONTIGUOUS MATRICES Imagine a matrix as a contiguous two-dimensional height field (topography) instead of a two-dimensional array of numbers. (The blue lines are my best impression of a topography based on the numbers.)
Imagine a vector as a contiguous one-dimensional height field (like a light wave) instead of numbers.
1935 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Matrix multiplication is actually the convolution of the matrix height-field against the vector height-field. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convolution)
A deeply random thought Don’t contaminate your drinking water with coffee, either.
ROTATING CONTIGUOUS MATRICES A matrix can be rotated by 90 degrees.
What happens when a matrix is rotated by 45 degrees? (or any scalar/vector angle)
1936 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The calculation is easy to imagine if matrices and vectors are contiguous:
The basic process is: 1.
For now, pad edges of the rotated matrix and vector with “zeros”. Properly estimating the undefined “zeros” beyond the edges of the matrices/vectors is very-very difficult.
2.
Rotation can be numerically calculated using IIR filtering to supersample the matrix values, then rotate them, and return downsample the rotated values. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iir_filter, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supersampling, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Downsampling ) Alternatively, Fourier transforms can be used to supersample and be rotated. Fourier transforms assume that the matrix values are modulo. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourier_transform)
1937 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Or, contiguous values can be numerically rotated using wavelets to supersample. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wavelet) Other methods exist, many not yet invented. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laplace_transform ) 3.
Convolve the rotated data, extending the matrices and vectors to include extra data predicted by “the zeros”.
A randomly deep thought Some Nor, a visual cross between Lucius Malfoy and “the beast”, from the 80’s Beauty and the Beast, have “light-wars” against their neighbor’s houses… ten gigawatts of lights pointed straight through your neighbor’s walls really annoys them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beast_(TV_series))
COOL MATRIX VARIATIONS
Rotated matrices and be multiplied symbolically instead of numerically... but the math gets quite hairy. Standard rotation “functions” exist for rotations of elements of the symbolic matrices.
Symbolic representations of estimated “zeros” beyond the edges of matrices and vectors exist.
1938 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Methodology exists to determine if terms resulting from rotated matrix multiplication can deemed insignificant and dropped.
Methods exist to estimate the rotation and “zeros” terms/functions.
Values in the matrix are not only scalar. They can be imaginary, and/or rotated vectors/matrices. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaternion)
The matrix values might be functions.
Values in the vector might be time-based, where the matrix values change over time, such as an animation of rippling water. (The “rippling water” matrix explains why “zeros” are difficult to estimate.)
More matrix/vector operations exist than just multiplication (convolution) and addition.
A randomly deep thought If the US government were to have another “Roswell crash”, would the government make the same mistake it make 60 years ago and declare the UFO top secret? If live “aliens” were to land today, would the US government make them top secret and “hoard” them? Or would world leaders be magnanimously invited to meet the aliens (and/or the UFO)?
1939 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MAXWELL’S EQUATIONS Maxwell’s equations are used to unify electromagnetism.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maxwell%27s_equations)
Some random thoughts:
Maxwell’s equations are incomplete; they actually have an infinite number of terms.
Electric and magnetic fields can be written as an imaginary number. Other electromagnetic fields, beyond just electric and magnetic, can be written as quaternions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaternion )
Maxwell’s equations can be written as a matrix.
1940 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The equations, once in a matrix, can be “rotated” to uncover new equations of physics... but you can’t rotate the equations until you can semi-accurately estimate “the zeros”.
A randomly deep thought Happy ray – The weaker inverse of the cruciatus curse. This telepathic effect can make you feel that everything is “right with the world”, despite your impending unemployment, dog dying, and the chance that the moon will blow up momentarily. Unfortunately, “happy rays” can only be turned on for a few hours a day or they lose their efficacy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucio#Crucio_.28Cruciatus_Curse.29)
BUILDING YOUR OWN UFO (PART 1) 1.
Experimentally determine more terms for Maxwell’s equations.
2.
Rotate the extended Maxwell’s equations to expose new physics equations.
3.
Before doing this, invent symbolic mathematics for “continuous hyperdimensional matrices”.
1941 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 4.
Produce an electromagnetic field using a field generator.
5.
Physically rotate the field generator fast enough to emulate the rotated matrices... or do something clever with phased-array field generators... or perhaps begin rotation of single atoms and use them to “crystallize” even more atoms into the same rotation.
6.
Somehow tie CHyMs into spaceplane hull design.
7.
Figure out how to produce pure-enough metals to build the hulls. (Hint: Not all nuclei of the same isotope number are the same shape.)
8.
Figure out how to build said spaceplane hulls. (Hint: You’ll need extradimensional manufacturing robots.)
A deeply random thought Some UFOs have “screensavers” to maintain the life of their baryonic matter. When you walk away from them, they turn invisible, but become visible when you approach them.
1942 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
1943 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
META-ORGANISM CAPSULE THE ADVANCING METAORGANISM CAPSULE
The Great Hominid Empire is actually part of a larger multiracial metaorganism... even though most of the hominids, who are xenophobic, in the empire don’t realize this.
1944 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Great Hominid Empire is the advancing “front” of the larger multiracial organism, as shown in green, “Unknown high-tech nations”, and lavender, “Hominid empire supporters”. (See below.)
The metaorganism capsule has been advancing “up” over thousands of years. As it advances, it “burns up” Hominids at the forefront of the capsule. The enflamed/swarming Hominids weaken the non-Hominid indigenous population. The surviving, weakened, indigenous non-Hominid population, and any remaining (xenophobic) Hominids are later overtaken by non-hominids from the metaorganism capsule.
1945 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought People with an IQ of 100 realize that people with a 150 IQ are more intelligent that they are, but they underestimate the 150-IQ person’s IQ at 120. They cannot imagine an IQ of 200. People with an IQ of 150 can, by induction based on their interactions with 100IQ people, imagine how much more intelligent someone with an IQ of 200 is. Many of the people (from other planets) that I have talked with have IQs in excess of 200.
THE PROXY WAR The approaching metaorganism capsule is a proxy war, much like the Vietnamese war was a proxy war between the United States and China. More on this later.
A randomly deep thought Steven Spielberg’s miniseries, Taken, features a computer-rendered Dreadgoogle™ near the end. 1946 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taken_(TV_miniseries) )
HANNA HAMMA #1 (NOVEMBER 2009) ESCAPE I first telepathically talked to Hanna Hamma (number 1) in November 2009. She is thylacine evolved, a Zeen. The name “Hanna Hamma” means “Female [that is somewhat] male”, an anonymous name. Hanna Hamma had been performing contract work for the Hominid Empire in the north-west corner of the Milky Way, near a 5-billion-large (approximately) spacefaring hominid population. Realizing (and/or predicting) that she was going to be hunted down by dogs for sport, Hanna Hamma abandoned her contracted project and fled to the safety of a local Zeen population in the Orion Spur. She managed to escape with some of her “projects”.
A deeply random thought RoombaFO – Some UFOs are like Roombas, except larger. They don’t clean your 1947 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 carpets, but they do automatically return to their “home base”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roomba)
SEX-SLAVE BREEDING AND T RAINING, EVOLVING, A ND DEEVOLVING Hanna Hamma worked in a three story, non-descript building in the middle of a forest. The top-two floors were divided into small prison-like rooms, with solid oak doors. The walls were painted white. The rooms contained simple all-red furniture, if/until the room’s occupant destroyed the furniture... in which case the room had no furniture. Hanna Hamma’s labs, living quarters, and living quarters for her assistants were on the bottom floor. Hanna Hamma’s “projects” were kept in the rooms above. They were non-Hominid individuals, usually of sub-par intelligence. “Projects” that proved intelligent enough were often hired on as assistants. Contracted by one of the Hominid Empires, Hanna Hamma was supposed to train (and/or break) her non-Hominid “projects”, usually “animal people”, to be used as sex slaves. She was also supposed to de-evolve the “animal races” by breeding sub-par intelligence individuals (aka: “projects”) of the races with their near-animalintelligence ancestors. The resulting embryos were secretly implanted into the wombs of prominent and/or intelligent women of the race using fertilization bots; further genetic work ensured that DNA tests would roughly match the woman’s (and husband’s) DNA. 1948 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The women would then give birth to “retarded” and/or four-legged children. Their time and money would be spent raising the defective children, instead of leading or advancing their nation’s culture and science. Furthermore, the woman’s birthing of one “retarded” child meant that she who bear one less intelligent child who could become a future leader/scientist/engineer of the nation. Thylacines are quite elusive. Hanna Hamma, unbeknownst to her Hominid bosses, genetically augmented the embryos’ intelligences, while keeping them four-legged so the Hominids monitoring the project would believe it was working, and continue to fund her project. She used the resources of The Great Hominid Empire to produce intelligent leaders, scientists, and engineers of the “animal races” instead of less-intelligent ones. The Hominid Empire wished to de-evolve the races, but instead evolved them. Any sex slaves trained in the facility were also intellectually augmented... and they were often trained in espionage and assassination. Hanna Hamma concluded that escape was warranted after the Hominid Empire discovered the subterfuge.
A deeply random thought Tyr children, arboreal tyrannosaurs, pull off their head feathers to make their own pens.
1949 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WAR STATISTICS (WRITTEN 24/6/2010)
19 quintillion people are dead in the local cluster, mostly non-Hominid.
Up to 1 quintillion people are dead in many galaxies in the local cluster.
The war has killed 1.7 trillion people in the Milky Way.
A randomly deep thought People with “glass eyes” see an annoying World-of-Warcraft-style heads-up display. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heads_up_display, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_of_warcraft)
8 WEEKS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MAY 2009) HOW TO TELL IF YOU’VE BEEN ABDUCTED, THE AUSSIE WAY According to the internet, the usual signs of abduction are bruises, scratches, and triangular dot formations... as well as high hypnotherapist bills. None of these metrics worked for me. Because I volunteered at a zoo, performing physical work like captive animal/plant management, my limbs were regularly 1950 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 covered with scratches and bruises. I never had any triangular marks or hypnotherapists appear though. However... A mob of Northern Wallaroos (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallaroo) lives around my house. They show up at least once a day for a drink and some “horse cubes” to snack on. They sometimes sleep under my house. The only times that the wallaroo regulars aren’t around are when dingos were on the prowl... ... and for a couple days AFTER I was abducted. The hubbub of abduction would scare them off. Oh yes: A few days after being abducted, I would have an abduction dreamlet, and/or spontaneously remember part of the abduction.
A randomly deep thought The dancing ants, a younger race of the elder-race featured in Babylon 5 as “the shadows”, have a form of square dancing where rhythms and instruments indicate what dance moves to make, instead of hearing the drone of “Turn your partner round and round…” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_(Babylon_5))
1951 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
REMEMBERING The abduction eight weeks before my hospital trip took me quite awhile to remember and reconstruct, probably because I was given large quantities of “forget me” drugs to obscure the incident. I first remembered the abduction in a dreamlet of being on a plane, as described below, and then mentally walking forwards and backwards in time from there, asking myself questions like, “What would I have done in that situation? Would I have walked left or right? Would I have stood up then? Etc.” Other techniques include asking myself questions like: “What surface texture was I standing on? What was the ceiling like? Was I holding anything? What did I eat? Were there any seats?” and “Before I noticed that I wasn’t served roasted peanuts, what did I do?”
A randomly deep thought Moth-evolved children have school plays where they play small, flying moths. Their mothers have to cut out and paint large cardboard wings which they strap onto their children’s backs… and then they video their children as the breeze pushing on their children’s cardboard wings topples their children to the ground.
ARE YOU OKAY? I was sitting in a business-class airplane chair; I’ve had many dreamlets/rememberings of being in business-class airplane flights since arriving in Australia (via affordable steerage in Qantas flights). It took me quite awhile to realize 1952 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 that Australia abduction UFOs are much-better fitted out that ye-olde sterile aluminium UFOs reported by US abductees. Someone approached; I later recalled that she was macropod-evolved. “Are you okay?” she asked telepathically. “You seem depressed.” My airplane chair was at the back of the airplane, in a small alcove all to itself... facing towards the plane’s median. I think the toilet was to my right. The airplane seats weren’t organized properly either: The airplane wasn’t rectilinear. It was mostly triangular, with the pointy end up front walled off. Seats pointed forward and/or inwards.
A randomly deep thought One simian language has a word for “child” and a completely different word for “screaming child.” “Please ignore the screaming child in the center of the room.”
AWAKE A few days later, I remembered the following abduction segment with the help of a dreamlet: 1953 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I woke up in a bed. At first, I thought I was in my childhood home, and was for-somereason sleeping in my brother’s bedroom... except that the room was the wrong size, colour, shape, and the bed had hospital whites. Still thinking I was in my childhood home, I got out of bed, walked through a door, perhaps into a hallway, and then down some stairs. The stairs were actually a ramp. At the bottom of the ramp was a room. At one end was a receptionist’s counter with a receptionist standing behind, perhaps the same person that queried if I was okay. (The receptionist’s counter doubled as a wet bar.) A very-tall man in a blue (or blue-grey) uniform stood in front of the counter, looking directly at me. I didn’t notice his face. My attention was diverted to the woman behind the counter. When my eyes returned to the man, he had turned to look at someone else. I noticed his profile and commented, “Why do you have a dog’s head?” Though he didn’t show it, I may have insulted him; I believe he was also macropod-evolved. Without obvious prompting, I turned to my left and exited the room into a short hallway, heading right. Someone stood in front of me. Beyond them was a narrow elevator door. Thinking I was in a dream, I crouched down and tried to change shape, something I can sometimes do in my dreams. This didn’t work. Other proofs I was in a dream? I can sometimes fly in my dreams. From my crouched position, in an attempt to fly I leapt up with full force. I hit the ceiling with my hands; this UFO had reduced gravity enabled, to make moving semi-conscious abductees easier, as well as giving the crew an advantage in the event that an abductee brawl. 1954 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After returning to my feet with no major injuries, I was led through the door.
A deeply random thought “Universal” symbols for alien meta-races.
THE WHITE ROOM (REMEMBERED THREE WEEKS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL) I didn’t remember this section of the abduction until three weeks before I visited the hospital. The dates are correlated. I was in a small, white-painted room, at the pointy end of a triangular UFO. Two people were in the room. 1955 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One was a 5’ 6” red-haired woman who I frequently saw in UFO dreams; she sometimes sat next to me in whatever spaceplane trip I was on. The other woman was tall, very tall. She was looking straight at me. She looked somewhat green-ish. A thought escaped her mind. I counter-thought, “You’re a saurian. That doesn’t phase me.” She was relieved and then delighted that I didn’t mind she was a saurian... I knew this telepathically. In a Michael Jackson “Black or White” morphing effect, her face bubbled outwards into a Saurian face as the fields visually flattening her skull into a Hominid shape relaxed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bla ck_or_White) I could tell that the red-haired woman wasn’t very happy. Blank.
I drew a quick sketch of her on my computer. Her facial-features aren’t proportioned correctly... and the art style I used makes her look like a Muppet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muppet) Her feathers have grown in since then, covering most of her face and back. 1956 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought
“They’re rude!”… Especially when they’re five feet tall and flying their spaceplanes in heavy traffic.
1957 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
7 WEEKS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MAY 2009) In late evening, I felt a flu coming on. I awoke the next morning with a very strong flu. By noon I had a fever (and a dead battery for my digital thermometer) and a rapidly beating heart. The fever broke late in the day. I slept for a week, and didn’t fully recover from the flu for a month. I suspected I had the swine flu, but the nurse I called said I couldn’t be tested unless my fever was high enough... which it wouldn’t. She further added that the odds of my having the swine flu were very low. At the time, the Northern Territory of Australia had 64 confirmed cases... which meant the probability of me having the swine flu was around 1 in 500... assuming that only 1/4 of the swine flu cases were detected. Having experienced venom-bots since then, I now wonder if I wasn’t infected with the swine flu (or another virus) as a result of my abduction experience.
A randomly deep thought Tazzy cheese dip:
1 to 3 tablespoons of freshly ground pepper evenly spread on a ceramic plate
Quality Tasmanian cheese
Slice a 5mm-thick chunk of cheese, rub it in the ground pepper until enough pepper sticks, and eat.
1958 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
SOUL AND AWARENESS KIDNAPPING WHY DON’T WESTERN CULTURES BELIEVE IN REINCARNATION? Why don’t western cultures believe in reincarnation? Despite the mass-media’s obliviousness, a 20% - 30% of westerners believe in reincarnation, including most Buddhists and some liberal Christians. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reincarnation) An economic explanation exists... Earth is a resource centre for the Great Hominid Empire, including our souls and awarenesses. When we die, a contracted non-Hominid race kidnaps our detached/floating soul(s) and awareness. Hominid morticians kidnap our bodies and hide them underground.
1959 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Our floating soul(s) and awareness are flown to a nearby Hominid planet where they are merged/coalesced into the bodies, soul(s), and awareness of an adult. (The Hominids in the empire, being xenophobic, are not aware of the relationship with non-Hominids soul/awareness movers, but instead assume that soultransference from “primitive” hominid planets is a natural course of events.) Consequently: 1.
As adults, we don’t have our dead relatives merged in with us.
2.
So few westerners remember past lives (because they had none, or because of awareness imprisonment) that they are laughed at when they mention the lives, and quickly learn to shut up. Cultural momentum espouses heaven and hell, further quelling any thought of “reincarnation”.
3.
Because of soul/awareness kidnapping, Earth’s population cannot gain enough ancestral knowledge to realize that we’re serfs on a slave planet, discouraging disclosure.
1960 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 4.
Hominids in the Empire gain a lifetime’s knowledge and experience from Earth (and other “primitive” Hominid planets). Scientists and engineers are particularly valued. Mathematicians need not apply; they can be resurrected back on Earth.
When we die, we (our soul(s) and awareness) are often placed in a similar-looking body on a distant planet... to minimize the shock of waking up dead. Some people wake up to Earth-based product packaging, such as “Crest” toothpaste and “Kraft” peanut butter. Awakening into similar surroundings, it often takes weeks for an Earth-person’s shocked soul/awareness to realize they’re on a different planet, by which point they’re fully merged in with the soul/awareness of the off-planet Hominid and can no longer complain to management.
AWARENESS IMPRISONMENT Conversely, some people’s awareness are imprisoned on Earth, and never allowed to leave. In such cases, their soul is stripped of memories by contacted nonHominids before being coalesced into the bodies of toddlers. Non-hominid awarenesses are often kidnapped and imprisoned into people on Earth. Once on Earth, they either can’t be found and/or rescued. This is a money-making endeavour for the metaorganism.
1961 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The conceptual “leap”, more like a pole-vault:
AWARENESS DREAMS OF EAST AURORA AND HOMES DREAMLANDS For years, I’ve had dreams of:
My childhood home in East Aurora Areas in and around East Aurora (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Aurora) CalTech, the university I attended. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech)
1962 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Microsoft’s campus (http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=micr osoft+campus&sll=37.0625,95.677068&sspn=34.259599,86.220703&ie=UTF8&hq=microsoft+campus&h near=United+States&ll=47.639875,122.12633&spn=0.003376,0.010525&t=h&z=17&iwloc=A) My house in Seattle My house in Darwin
I never analysed this, but whenever I had dreams of Caltech, Microsoft, and my nonEast-Aurora houses, the buildings were only approximately correct. Conversely, my childhood home in East Aurora and dreamland East Aurora were almost always identical to the real thing. Some interesting dreams of East Aurora I have had:
In the real East Aurora house, there is a closet adjacent to my old bedroom. In one of the dreamland houses, the closet contains a stairway up to an attic.
In one of my dreamland East Aurora houses, a long tunnel leads from the basement towards the middle school... not to mention seeing a 60 kg, carnivorous agile-wallaby in the dream basement, along with a 1.5 meter goanna.
I would have stress dreams about fires starting in dreamland East Aurora homes. One of the dreamland houses burnt down.
While in dorm-like bathrooms in one dreamland East Aurora Middle School, I had stress dreams about putting in oversized contact lenses... which seemed to fit my eyes nonetheless. The real East Aurora Middle school doesn’t have dorms.
1963 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&q=middle+school &sll=42.768506,78.618786&sspn=0.001938,0.005262&ie=UTF8&t=h&radius=0.16&split=1&r q=1&ev=zo&hq=middle+school&hnear=&ll=42.768506,78.618786&spn=0.001938,0.005262&z=18)
One dreamland East Aurora Middle School has only a facade for the east wing, enclosing an open-air zoo.
One dreamland version of East Aurora had a small city centre in East Main Street, with multi-storey department stores. The real East Aurora only has a few shops.
I recently asked my parents if they had dreams about their East Aurora house (my childhood home): They mentioned finding hidden rooms and stairways also.
A randomly deep thought A consortium of Red Squirrel and Hedgehog evolved people are now offering UK “Homo Sapiens Alienii” subscribers a default package similar to that offered by Smilodons to Californians. Unfortunately, it is a “combined” package, so participants may end up with red fur, pointy ears, and back full of quills. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_squirrel, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hedgehog)
1964 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
AWARENESS DREAMS OF EAST AURORA Many of my dreams of East Aurora are “awareness dreams”, where I am seeing through someone else’s eyes for the duration of the dream. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dream-Quest_of_Unknown_Kadath) Because of the Roycroft, East Aurora was a progressive and influential place in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roycroft) Consequently, East Aurora was used as a test village, to see how Homo Sapiens would handle disclosure. My childhood home and East Aurora Middle School are older buildings, my house built in the 1850’s. Copies of East Aurora were built in several planets:
Influential people living in East Aurora could easily be sent awareness dreams to influence them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elbert_Hubbard, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seymour_H._Knox,_Jr.)
Souls and awarenesses of people from East Aurora (or similar villages) could first be taken to the copy East Auroras to minimize confusion on death.
People abducted from the Unites States could be brought to one of the East Aurora copies without too much trauma.
People living in the copies of East Aurora could get an idea what rural American life was like at the time, making it easier for them to land and seamlessly enter American culture. Having US abductees live in the EastAurora copies would make the move easier, much as US soldiers trained for the Iraq war in copies of Iraqi villages. (http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/01/world/americas/01insurgency.html)
1965 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
By the 1950’s, East Aurora’s influence had waned, and The Great Hominid Empire invented new ways of achieving the same goals. The off-planet East Auroras were sold/traded to non-Hominids. (The impending approach of the Hominid Empire’s proxy-war may have reduced to price. See below.) The non-Hominids also acquired the right to monitor the real East Aurora. Other villages and city centres are also duplicated on other planets.
A randomly deep thought Zeens (Tasmanian-tiger evolved) living in apartments being sniped by Hominid invaders found a good use for a recent fad in life-size male Zeen mannequins (featuring synthetic fur and built-in body-temperature heaters). They placed the mannequins in front of an open window. After the mannequins were shot by snipers, an attached rope was used to pull the mannequin to the ground. An audible scream was produced. If a second mannequin was available, a bloodied [mannequin] Zeen head would briefly pop its head above the window sill before collapsing. Unfortunately, this had unintended consequences: Hominid attackers would use “body/soul trackers” to identify the body/soul ID of the “dead” Zeen mannequin, in case the Zeen’s body hadn’t died, or the dead Zeen’s non-compliant sould/awareness was reattached to another Zeen. Since the mannequins didn’t feature any body/soul IDs, the IDs of the Zeen prankster hiding under the windowsill were unintentionally recorded instead. After being shot sixteen times and still living, the clever prankster Zeens were tagged as “invincible” in the Hominid Empire’s body/soul ID database. The Hominids came to believe that the prankster Zeens were extremely high-tech, with some technology that made them resistant to bullets. Consequently, they were targeted even more aggressively with larger weapons… until they died.
1966 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
1967 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
META-METAORGANISM
Nearby metaorganism capsules
The light-blue capsules represent areas where 1 in 10,000 people are hominids. According to The Great Hominid Empire, all hominids are considered to be citizens/serfs/slaves of The Great Hominid Empire. 1968 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Our metaorganism capsule is a proxy war on behalf of the other (light-blue) metaorganism capsules, those areas partly “owned” by The Great Hominid Empire. The nearby proxy war, which has just entered our galactic cluster, is used by The Great Hominid Empire (and its controlling meta-metaorganism) to test weaponry and techniques against the non-Hominid races that aren’t part of the metametaorganism.
A deeply random thought Grey-ball – A variant of American baseball, where one of the rules is that the rules change every fifteen minutes, including the rule that the rule changes every fifteen minutes, and that rule too, and… oh, you know what I mean. Apparently, the Americans from the Project Serpo team (http://www.serpo.org/) tried to teach the “greys” baseball. As anyone who has learned a sport from an older brother knows, the older brother starts out by saying, “The rules are simple, just hit the ball with the bat and run to first base.”… Ten minutes later, after you hit the ball with the bat and run to first base, your older brother says, “No, you just hit the ball out of bounds. That’s a foul. Go back.” Twenty minutes later, after missing the ball too many times, your older brother states, “You’re out. My time at bat.” Yet another new rule. (People formerly known as) greys are very good at induction. They quickly concluded that the rules of baseball changed every 15 minutes, on average, and incorporated that observation as a rule. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mathematical_induction)
1969 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
CAT-EVOLVED HOSTAGES FLOAM “Floam” is an illegal drug similar to catnip. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catnip) Cat-evolved people that consume too much floam eventually forget who they are. It is also an aphrodisiac for cat-evolved women. Floam-taking is taboo to cat-evolved cultures, more so than any Hominid-affecting narcotic on Earth.
A randomly deep thought Saurian children often have their feather finger(s) shortened so they don’t look like Edward Scissor Hands. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Scissor_Hands)
1970 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HOSTAGE TAKING The Great Hominid Empire has a long-running antipathy towards cat-evolved people, and vice versa. Part of the Empire’s pre-war assault is to take hostages from prominent and influential cat-evolved families. Several methods have been used:
Influential cat-evolved people (and others) were honoured guests at the “courts” of Hominid governments, such as the Empire Far Far Away. Recently, they became less “honoured” and more captive. (Louis XIV in France, requiring nobles to stay at Versailles, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palace_of_Versailles)
The “Hanna Hamma” Zeens ran a multiracial school. The school was bankrolled by the Hominid Empire. Parents sent their children to the school because of its educational reputation. Unbeknownst to the Empire, the Zeens ran the school so they could enhance the cat-evolved student’s intelligence, and teach them skills important to fighting the Hominid Empire. The Hominid Empire used the school to test drugs, administered through Chinese-like food laden with MSG (highly inappropriate for cat-evolved people). The Empire occasionally brought in Hominid men to rate how “sexy” the cat-evolved students looked... and planned to take the students hostage, flying them to secret locations.
Using shell companies, The Hominid Empire sold and ran holiday packages attractive to wealthy cat-evolved students. These included adventure tours, scenic tours, skiing, wildlife tours, and tours of historical sites.
1971 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The tour packages allowed the Hominid Empire to tag the bodies and detached souls of participants... and recently, kidnap the tour participants, flying them to secret locations.
Conversely, cat-evolved students were hired for other tours. Four-legged students, often discriminated against, could easily get jobs at resorts frequented by non-cats... where they “played” the role of the local wildlife... and also got kidnapped recently.
Some sociologist students, not just cat-evolved, attended education holidays where they could watch indigenous undisclosed Hominids (and other races) in their native habitats, such as Earth... and recently... get taken hostage.
Other cat-evolved students with a liking for floam were recently kidnapped while on floam-forget binges.
A deeply random thought Ubernids – Hominids that think they’re “uber”, and much better than other Hominids. See Ubermensch from Nietzsche. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%9Cbermensch).
1972 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HOSTAGE STORAGE AND DENIGRATION The Empire “stores” hostages in safe places, where they can’t be rescued. Storage comes with built-in denigration:
On many Hominid planets, cat-evolved people (and others) are often forced to walk naked in public.
Hostages are hidden on the personal estate-continents of retired Hominid emperors. They are often kept in dungeons (literally, in the case of “medieval Hominid world”), barns, or used as domestic/farm slaves. Catevolved people don’t work well as domestic/farm slaves, but other races cope.
Some enslaved people are displayed in department-store “windows” where they are “animated” by motor-controlled armature attached to their limbs, Christmas-like.
May cat-evolved people are/were locked in zoos, where they “play” the wildlife. Some of the zoos are “sex zoos”. See below.
Some cat-evolved people are used by some Hominid militaries as floamed sex-slaves. Focus groups studies (see below) have shown that some Hominid men find cat-evolved women to be sexy. Many of the women are muzzled, declawed, and/or tied up.
Some four-legged cat-evolved people were shipped into the local proxywar metaorganism capsule, where they were stored in an underground “cage silo” beneath a coliseum. There they were given floam and bred for de-evolutionary and denigration purposes.
A recent kidnapping plan saw millions of hostages taken from Hominid areas and brought to the local proxy-war metaorganism where they could
1973 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 be safely stored/hidden... and where transportation awaited to carry the hostages into the kidnapping-safety of “the machine”.
Ready-made hostage/slave poly transport-tubes can be purchased for a few thousand dollars. Slave tubes can be readily stacked in transport ships.
A deeply random thought Gecko-evolved children run (poorly) with a wobbling side-to-side gait. They only stop running by performing a baseball belly slide.
IDENTIFY NON-XENOPHOBIC HOMINIDS Focus groups, such as those run at the Hanna Hamma school, have shown that some Hominids find cat-evolved people to be sexy, and vice versa. That, combined with floam and denigration, makes cat-evolved people excellent tools for “disclosure”. When The Great Hominid Empire discloses to non-disclosed planets they bring with them “animal people”, often floamed cats. The “animal people” are used in the following settings: 1974 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Meet the aliens – Hominids are allowed to interact with non-Hominids “animal people” in a safe setting.
Become a settler – Are you tired of city life? Want to live with the wildlife, such as cat-evolved people? Why not become a settler on a “primitive” planet?
Domestic slaves – A bit later on in disclosure, individuals of quiescent races are sold as indentured servants or slaves for domestic and agricultural purposes.
Zoos – Cat-evolved people are placed in zoos, helping The Empire identify non-xenophobic Hominids. Some zoos include private rooms where Hominids can meet the wildlife up close.
Department-store “windows”, mentioned above – Potentially used near the end of disclosure, these displays identify people sympathetic to the living mannequins.
The Great Hominid Empire’s metaorganism biology requires a xenophobic and racist mono-cultural population. Hominids detected interacting with “animal people” in a friendly manner are “culled” from society in a continuous pogrom.
A deeply random thought Cheetah-evolved people prefer bicycling to running. The bike’s “tail swing” pushes their tail to the side; getting one’s tail caught in rotating bicycle spokes is extremely painful. 1975 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WAR STATISTICS (WRITTEN 8/7/2010) SOME NUMBERS
Around 50% of the Hominids in The Great Hominid Empire are disclosed to. The rest are kept in slave/serf planets.
In the light-blue metaorganism capsules (shown a few pages above), Hominids have a density of 1 per 10,000 people. Outside the capsules, the density is 1 per 100,000, or lower. The Milky Way’s Hominid density is approximately 1 per 1,000,000.
In the light-blue metaorganism capsules, Hominids have a planet with a significant population in (approximately) 0.05% of all solar systems. They have small colonies in 0.5% of all solar systems. They believe that 80% of the solar systems are planet-less or uninhabitable. In inhabitable solar systems, they assume that only 1 to 2 planets are significantly occupied.
Every Hominid in an invading force kills 4000 people, on average, most of them “primitives”.
Due to the Empire’s policy of “mutually assured destruction”, a disclosed Hominid population will kill an average of 2000 enemies (mostly “primitives”) per member of the resident disclosed Hominid population in retaliatory nuclear attacks... before the disclosed Hominid population is decivilized and incapable of retaliation.
1976 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For every Hominid that invades a protected non-disclosed Hominid planet, 8 indigenous non-disclosed Hominids are unintended casualties of the effort to eradicate the invading Hominids. As described previously, the invading Hominids hide amongst the indigenous population and/or use them as “human shields”.
For the last 40 years, The Great Hominid Empire has been manoeuvring planetoids into the orbits of future enemy planets, and hiding them extradimensionally. Since the larger conflagration began a few months ago, many planets have recently been impacted by planetoids.
A randomly deep thought My theory: The higher up in the trees that a race evolves, the more insane they are. Douc-langar-evolved people are Tyrs are quite insane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douc) Exceptions exist: Walking ponies and climbing Okapi are also odd, while FlyingFox-evolved people are down-to-earth.
THE “BRILLIANT” STRATEGIC AGITATION OF T HE GREAT HOMINID EMPIRE Using the numbers above: 1977 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 1 Hominid per 10,000 non-Hominids = 0.0001
Half of all Hominids disclosed = 0.0001 * 0.5 = 0.00005
2000 non-Hominid deaths in retaliatory attacks per indigenous disclosed Hominid = 0.00005 * 2000 = 0.1 (Data learned from The Great Hominid Empire’s recent assaults in our local cluster.)
Simply put, when The Great Hominid Empire swarms, a non-Hominid mortality rate of 5% - 10% is expected in the light-blue areas... unless something “brilliant” is done.
Do NOT rely on “mutually assured destruction” to prevent all wars!
As mentioned above, The Great Hominid Empire has recently taken millions of hostages and flown them to safe areas, like the nearby Hominid Empires at the edge of the proxy-war metaorganism. Since the hostage-taking plan was activated long before the local Hominid Empires were de-civilized, the hostage takers have unknowingly flown their hostages into a hostile environment.
In reaction to the hostage taking, the militaries and vengeful families of the hostages chased the hostage takers into our local cluster.
In reaction to the reaction, the militaries of the Hominid Empires in the “non-aggressive” light-blue metaorganism chased the hostages’ militaries and vengeful families... also into our local cluster.
In an improvised reaction to the reaction to the reaction, military geniuses from the hyper-taurosphere military (with an IQ in excess of 200... or was that below 20?) further encouraged the swarm by bombing light-blue
1978 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 factories used to produce armaments for the proxy-war. They left calling cards with our address.
Out of complete stupidity, more militaries of the swarming Hominid Empires, upset that their weapons factories were bombed, launched battle fleets towards our local group.
The swarm 1979 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Why was this move “brilliant”?
Swarming Hominids fleets were rushed into battle without proper provisions.
Swarming Hominid fleets formed a “wagon train” that was easily picked off by “the Indians” (non-Hominids). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wagon_train)
Any swarming Hominids that reached the local cluster, expecting to find friendly Hominid Empires, found only de-civilized Hominid planets. Protection, fuel, and food are lacking.
Swarming Hominids, despite all the calling cards, also attacked nearby nonHominid planets. The previously-peaceful light-blue metaorganism capsules have begun to catch fire. Statistics from the proxy-war are being analysed by non-Hominid governments to determine their course of action.
Swarming Hominid battle fleets headed for our local cluster won’t return, helping to reduce the non-Hominid death-toll that will soon mount in the formerly-peaceful light-blue metaorganisms.
The destruction of weapons factories, and the conflagration of the previously-peaceful light-blue metaorganisms, means that the local proxywar should now winnable. Disclosure might happen on Earth... if it still exists.
The Great Hominid Empire had targeted its swarm 40 years from now, when the disclosed Hominid population would double due to births, and the military might triple or quadruple. (See Appeasement of Nazi Germany, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appeasement). Disclosure of currently nondisclosed Hominid planets would further increase the Hominid war machine.
1980 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A strengthened Hominid Empire would encourage more “business partners”, further strengthening the Hominid Empire.
A randomly deep thought Tyres: “We pervert the course of history.”
THE STATE OF THE WAR (WRITTEN 17/7/10) HOMINIDS What are the Hominids in the nearby galactic clusters up to?
SERFED HOMINIDS ON ENSLAVED PLANETS
Some Hominids are well-enough protected by non-Hominids that they’re oblivious to the war... except for the contactees.
1981 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A few enslaved planets are being increasingly occupied by the Hominid Empire’s forces.
MEMBERS OF THE LOCAL DE-CIVILIZED HOMINID EMPIRES
Many de-civilized Hominids are preoccupied with food, water, and shelter.
Others have fled their planets and are sheltering in other Hominid-empire planets, as well as small settlements (such as holiday homes).
Settlers who were friendly with non-hominids, living in the small settlements, are now hiding from the new wave of xenophile-phobic settlers.
MEMBERS OF THE GREATER HOMINID EMPIRE (METAORGANISM CAPSULES)
Private citizens and people related to military are arriving o
Transporting hostages to the safety of the interior of the proxy war, and/or outdated safety of the local hominid empires, and/or perhaps “the machine”. (Hostages taken into the machine are sometimes flash-frozen and dissected to extract high-tech devices such as extradimensional strap-on “Accio broomstick” devices.)
o
Telepathic religious elite (from other planets) have jobs enforcing “crowd control” on local populations such as Earth and nonHominid planets.
1982 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 o Settlers
o
Slavers
o
Monkey-meat collectors
Militaries are arriving 0.1% - 1% of the military of The Great Hominid Empire may be in this and nearby galactic clusters. o
o
Training
Some militaries are training for a future “personal” war expected in their own metaorganisms. They train by shooting and hunting “primitives”, as well as destroying their villages.
Other militaries are training for how to deal with hominid (and non-hominid) dissenters on non-disclosed planets.
Some militaries are training for future wars against nonHominids in their own metaorganisms by “impaling” planets here.
Revenge
1983 | P a g e
Some militaries are chasing the militaries/families who are chasing the hostages.
November 12, 2011
o
Helping their fellow Hominids
o
Revenge attacks for the “brilliant” agitation are taking place, with assassinations, nuclear attacks, and by “impaling” planets.
Some militaries are rescuing the local de-civilized hominid empires.
Miscellaneous
Assassins are targeting their list of enemies.
Militaries are trying to get non-Hominids protectors off Hominid planets and reacquire the protected planets.
MISCELLANEOUS
The “Congolese”, part of the proxy-war metaorganism capsule, dislike the racist Caucasian Hominids in the Great Hominid Empire. Sporadic fighting is happening between them.
1984 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Pencil eyes –Chameleon-evolved children have their eye-focus corrected by attaching metal “tube braces” to their swiveling eyes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chameleon)
NON-HOMINIDS What are the non-Hominids doing?
NON-MILITARY
Non-Hominids on spaceplane planets are “locked down” and can’t safely travel off planet. (See “Reasons why contactees can’t get off Earth”.)
Non-Hominids on non-disclosed planets haven’t been able to safely be gotten off their planets for the last 10 – 20 years. This has been 40 years for Earth.
Many non-Hominids fled to remote planets (such as their holiday homes) before the lock-down, and are now hiding... hoping that training Hominid militaries don’t hunt them down.
Non-Hominids in space-stations and spaceplanes find it difficult to land on planets, and even more difficult to take off.
1985 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
RELATED TO THE MILITARY
People from other nations are observing the battles to decide on their nation’s course of action.
Medical practitioners are remotely tending to the wounded.
Some policing of Hominids on non-disclosed planets is occurring.
Rent-a-deaths are ferrying souls/awarenesses to either their home planets, or “safe” planets like Earth.
MILITARY
Non-hominid militaries are protecting disclosed and non-disclosed planets.
Teams are continually searching the area to discover where Hominid bases and space-stations have been erected.
A deeply random thought
1986 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Are people who attend UFO conferences at risk of ending up on a “dead list”? Or an “alien” 7-up? Are they more likely to be abducted?
THE MACHINE HYPER-TAUROSPHERE
Our taurosphere (Not drawn to scale)
1987 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought ebi = cos(b) + i sin(b) What is ea + bi + cj + dk? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaternion)
1988 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
THE MACHINE
“The machine”, attacking our taurosphere
A deeply random thought “We I pervert the course of history.” – Sounds good to me.
1989 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
SPORE
Spore (http://www.rockpapershotgun.com/images/may08/spore8big.jpg)
1.
“Ubernids” from inside were and are injected as venom.
2.
Over tens-of-thousands of years, the indigenous Hominid population has had an allergic reaction to the Ubernids, becoming xenophobic and terrorist.
3.
Some other non-Hominids are also involved in the venom/allergy attack.
1990 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 4. The rest of the non-Hominids spend tremendous effort (and a recentlybegun war) to fight the allergic reaction. 5.
Potentially... the taurosphere could be incapacitated by the venom attack (stunned by the venom injection and subsequent allergic reaction), allowing it to be easily consumed.
A randomly deep thought Wacky monkey – A mandrill personality technique similar to Mel Gibson’s personality in Lethal Weapon. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandrill, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lethal_weapon)
SEATTLE (1995 – 1998) HOME VISIT #1 I awoke in the middle of the night, sleeping on my futon mattress... which was on the floor. In front of me was a grey. The grey, being startled by my awaking, I (not the grey) ran out of my bedroom... ... and into what felt like a walking 70’s shag carpet.
1991 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Blank.
A deeply random thought Nor fashion tip #1, #2, #3, …, #822, #823 – Always wear only simulated black leather.
HOME VISIT #2 I awoke in the middle of the night, sleeping on my futon mattress... which was on the floor. In front of me were several people leaning over. They were wearing surgical gear. They were NOT hominid. I didn’t really care. I went back to sleep. For a few weeks prior, my left nipple had been sore. A week after I recalled the visit, I noticed that my nipple, no longer sore, seemed to be missing some internal tissue mass.
1992 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Now that everyone knows that off-planet Hominids have no high-school Facebook friends, all you have to do to play with your workmate’s minds is delete your high-school buddies from your www.Facebook.com list and send them this document… minus this deeply random thought.
WE RECOMMEND YOU LEAVE In 1996, I decided to leave Microsoft. I didn’t need the money, nor the associated stress. I had a dream of looking at a map of Washington State, nothing some “safe” places to move to. Instead, I applied for permanent residency in Australia. My cranial mobile phone was not yet activated to consciousness. Despite that, I “had the impression/intuition” that Australia would be a safe place to move to.
A deeply random thought 1993 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Tyr sports-planes feature two hidden semicircular under-dash iris cup-holders that let you comfortably sip from eight different drinks, anywhere from Big-Gulp to cappuccino sized. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_gulp)
EXTRADIMENSIONAL UND ERGROUND BASE (AND A SSOCIATED TICK) One of the small mountains in the Seattle area has/had an extradimensional underground base. Nearby is/was a “tick”, a base created and operated by the “opposition”; Ticks often clandestinely “suck” their power supply off the larger bases, as well as monitor their opposition’s actions.
A randomly deep thought Aquatic geckos hole-punch the webbing between their fingers for cool effects, when they’re adults very-large children.
1994 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PERSONALITY SHAPES PERSONALITY SHAPES
My personality shape
1995 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Person A’s personality shape
Person B’s personality shape
I try to:
Maintain my personality shape, changing it slowly over time.
Cultivate an interesting personality shape.
Rotate my personality to suit the people I’m interacting with.
1996 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
I rotate my personality to fit Person A’s shape
I rotate my personality to fit Person B’s shape
1997 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
OTHER HOMINID PERSON ALITY INTERACTIONS
Some people refuse to rotate their shapes, so they have violent personality clashes with other people.
Some people have allergic reactions to certain shapes.
1998 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Some people change their shapes to suit the person they’re interacting with at the moment. These people make good politicians, or good liars.
Method actors change their shape for fun, escapism, and relief.
1999 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Some people allow their shape to be changed by other people, over time... particularly when married.
Some people change the shape of other people, over time, preferring that the other people have simple, compliant shapes... particularly when married. How much do metaorganisms create simple, compliant shapes?
2000 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Some people encourage other people to produce more complex personality shapes.
Some people choose friends with identical shapes, and/or morph their shapes to be identical... particularly when married.
2001 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The personality of many hominids changes slightly between day and night, and even more when they’re drunk.
SOME NON-HOMINID PERSONALITY SHAPES Understanding that different races have different personalities, that they rotate their personalities differently, change their personalities differently, and expect others to change their personalities differently, is important.
2002 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
(People formerly known as) “greys” have personalities that I am incapable of describing; they say the same about our personalities.
Some saurian races change their personalities rapidly and radically to suit the occasion, with a different personality being “located” in different quadrants of their brain. A personality only has enough energy to stay awake/active for a few hours, though. Evolutionary-wise, this let their ancestors “sleep while keeping one eye open for danger and opportunity”, as well as to quickly adjust their tactics to an adversary or prey.
2003 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Other races, such as Alotians, are particularly skilled in selecting groups of individuals whose personalities compliment one-another.
A deeply random thought Extradimensional cooking, with Nors – Using an extradimensional “microwave” oven, extradimensionally displace several teaspoons of sage, mustard, and cracked pepper. Insert an uncooked steak into the apparently-empty oven, and allow the herbs to settle into the beef over 10 minutes.
JACKASS JACKAL (JACKASSAL) DISCLOSURE Jackass Jackal, or Jackassal, not her real name, but a self-selected English-derived pseudonym, came from a planet in the Orion Spur... not far from Earth. 2004 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Her race is evolved from golden jackals. They halve high foreheads with flattened muzzles, and walk upright.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Jackal
The jackal planet was successfully disclosed to 150 years ago. Disclosure was accomplished by having individuals from a few races appear just after sunset, and wander around the streets of small cities, talking to people they met.
2005 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One race employed for disclosure was evolved from “dragon” lizards, like the Frilled Neck Lizard and the Fan Throated Lizard. They walk upright, around 5’ tall, and have the annoying habit of furiously waving their left hand (basketball-bouncing) when they’re upset.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Fanthroated_Lizard_(Sitana_ponticeriana)_W_IMG_7530.jpg
A randomly deep thought The act of observing a value changes the value. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncertainty_principle) The act of publishing an observation changes the observation.
2006 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The act of thinking about publishing an observation changes the observation. The act of thinking about an observation changes the observation.
THE DOMAIN OF A RETIRED HOMINID EMPEROR The relationship between the Jackals and off-planet races soured over the next 125 years... much as the relationship between the “Greys” soured with the American military over 25 years. Unbeknownst to the local Jackal population, a retired hominid emperor “bought” the small planet, and moved in. A Hominid population settled on a distant part of the planet not inhabited by the Jackals. It wasn’t visited often by the Jackals since visiting the distant settlement became difficult and dangerous for the Jackals, who had no spaceplane technology of their own. Bored and sadistic in retirement, the ex-emperor took up the hobby of customizing the Jackal race to his likes... turning the Jackal’s upper-class culture into a faux 19th century British aristocracy, including tweed jackets and an obsession with hats. (Neither tweed nor hats work well with fur.) The ex-emperor also began a project of muzzle-flattening for the wealthy, using bone manipulation technology.
THE WASTE-PEOPLE’S LAND 2007 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Some Jackals are highly inquisitive, and worse, they are highly impulsive. Jackassal was from a wealthy family being warped by the ex-emperor. After a few too many insults, rumours, and flung peas, Jackassal was imprisoned by the emperor in the basement of her ancestral mansion. A week later she was secretly shipped off to “the waste-people’s land”. Her parents were lied to, informed that she had run off. The waste-people’s land was a large, 10,000 km-square, fenced in “detention centre”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dingo_fence) It had a few village centres where free (drugged?) food was distributed. Around the centres were old, ownerless, decrepit houses. Drug-addicts, mentally retarded people, criminals, and those who “walked on all fours” were “dumped” in the waste-people’s land and forgotten about. Once there, they never left. Most of the waste population was so ignorant, stupid, and/or drugged, that they never thought or cared about where the food came from. Think, “Escape from New York”, but without the tall buildings... and with much nicer weather. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Escape_from_new_york) Jackassal spent several years in the waste-people’s land before she was rescued by people from off-planet. Housing was strictly: first come, biggest weapon, strongest person, first served. What Jackassal got for the risk of being raped, beaten, or killed, was a leaking roof, kickedin walls, and broken glass. Barring exceptional circumstances, she slept outside, because it was safer. Jackassal often wandered the “rural area” of the waste-people’s land to avoid the telepathic spam, and the danger of the rapists and murderers; they stayed near the village centres where food (double meaning) was plentiful. 2008 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Jackassal was continually watched and harassed by spy-bots, most likely due to her aristocratic birth and the petty-Emperor’s vengeance. If she ever got near the fence, she was harassed by kill/venom-bots or some male thugs that would happen to wander into her path. Nothing helped Jackassal escape the harassment. For awhile, she even tried walking on fours and pretending to be mentally retarded, hoping that the spy-bots would think her someone else.
A deeply random thought (People formerly known as) “Greys” have fast-food restaurants also… and they have to wear silly hats despite their lack of hair. Horned and antlered races working in their fast-food restaurants don’t have to wear silly hats, just silly banners stretched between their antlers/horns… or silly flags. No red noses though; Alotian fast-food teenagers have to wear those.
ESCAPE One lucky evening, the fence-pacing Jackassal found an opening in the fence and ran through. The fence alarms didn’t trigger. Her spy-bot tormenters didn’t notice either; the must have been asleep that night. She ran into the rocky hills to the north. 2009 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 There was no water at that time of year. She would have died of thirst if a spaceplane hadn’t landed and rescued her.
DEATH Jackassal was flown to a rotated planet in our solar system, invisible to us. It was the safest place for her. In captivity once again, but this time in a friendly, protective captivity, Jackassal became bored... and impulsive. She began helping with disclosure on Earth... She invented her nickname as a result of verbally tormenting the telepathic religious elite on Earth, as well as people from the mafia-like Homo Sapiens Empire. Within a few months, assassins from The Great Hominid Empire found her while travelling in a spaceplane, and shot it down.
A randomly deep thought You can guess a race’s propensity for lying based on the number of laws (and lawyers) it has.
2010 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 1) EXTERNAL STAIRWAY BUILDING Unlike our apartment buildings, you can easily walk across, up, or down to your neighbours’ verandas, creating a community instead of isolated apartment cells.
2011 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HIGH-RISE WITH EXTRADIMEN SIONAL KITCHEN This glass tower series featured:
An organic, volcanic shape.
Large parklands around each building.
Apartments that became gradually smaller the higher up they were... until the apartment was occupying the entire floor.
An extradimensional kitchen that materialized when needed, and dematerialized after dinner. Security sensors prevented children hiding in kitchen cupboards from being melted.
2012 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
ROTATING CYLINDER HOMES With a rotating cylinder home, you only kind-of know which room an exit leads to. Finding any room in the house is a challenge. Each cylinder is three stories tall, with four exit doorways. The cylinders randomly rotate clockwise or counter-clockwise every thirty minutes. Doorways to nowhere are automatically blocked to avoid inconvenient plummeting.
2013 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
CAVE HOMES Cave homes can be built underneath the surface of uninhabitable planets. Entry is via extradimensional spaceplane.
They are ideal for subterranean races like…
http://www.aliendoodles.com/randomdoodles. htm
2014 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
RABBIT MEGA-BUILDING Featuring suspended potted trees in the courtyards. The trees are lit at night.
2015 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
TARDIS-UFO ARCHITECTURE
Cloister bell not included.
Spaceplane attachments are invisible when not in use. The invisible living quarters of the Tardis can be towed by either spaceplane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis)
2016 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Hominids understand and live in the following realities:
Work – We much; this leads to escapism in stories and virtual worlds.
Stories – In evenings. Stories are a Hominid thing.
Dreams
Virtual worlds (computer games) – In evenings. Virtual worlds are a Hominid thing.
Some other realities are:
Chess
Music
Telepathic conversations
Remote viewing voyeurism
Controlling other people as avatars
Etcetera
2017 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WHAT TECHNOLOGIES/PRODUCTS PEOPLE ON EARTH “DO WELL”
Stories (and movies) – Because of genetics and the psychological need to escape from overwork, stories are critical to Homo Sapiens. Stories (in the form of television shows and movies) lead to more and bigger (digital) televisions, which lead to cheaper CPUs. Because of our cheap CPUs and the inability to hire non-hominid actors, computer-graphics for characters and special effects lets us produce unique movies.
Virtual worlds – Again, due to overwork and genetically misdirected work, many Homo Sapiens escape into virtual worlds (also called computer games). Virtual worlds are enabled by cheap CPUs, and their prevalence further reduces the costs of CPUs.
Mobile phones – Homo Sapiens have very good mobile phone due to the lack of telepathy, and cheap CPUs. More mobile phones produced leads to cheaper CPUs.
E-book readers and other tablets (iPad) – These devices are encouraged by our desire for entertainment, stories, and enabled by cheap CPUs. iPads are much preferred to mobile phones and digital cameras as thankyou gifts left by abductees. Many “aliens” wish to note that Amazon.com will soon have a gift register for off-planet visitors. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ipad)
Digital cameras – Our cameras are better than expected thanks to cheap CPUs and digital cameras built into every mobile phone.
2018 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Internet – Because of cheap CPUs, democracy, no telepathy, and game/music/movie piracy, the internet is ubiquitous and (relatively) uncensored here.
CPUs and other computer bits – For our technology level, we produce very good computers.
Body medicine – Homo Sapiens’ body medicine isn’t great (partly due to a lack of extradimensional medical technologies), but it above par for Earth’s technology level. Part of the reason for the better-than-expected body medicine is that our culture doesn’t know about floating souls, so we don’t euthanize, and preserve our bodies at all costs. We don’t know about floating souls thanks to soul/awareness theft by the Great Hominid Empire.
A deeply random thought Human coat-racks wanted. Job involves temporarily holding other people’s coats (aka: their floating souls) until the rent-a-deaths can find people that fit the coats. Poor $$$. Meet interesting friends. Make friends with death(s).
2019 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
REASONS WHY CONTACTEES CAN’T GET OFF EARTH (WRITTEN 17/7/10) Contactees still can’t be rescued from Earth, as well as most non-Hominid undisclosed planets. Getting non-military of any planet is also difficult due to military exercises/attacks being conducted by The Great Hominid Empire. Some reasons for the difficulties follow:
MONITORING
Spy and weapons satellites from The Great Hominid Empire are plentiful. Despite efforts to destroy them, visiting Hominid militaries continually replace destroyed satellites around nearly every planet.
Due to the Empire’s Stazi-like spy network where contactees’ minds are read, and their actions remotely watched, any attempt to escape is quickly noticed by the Empire. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stazi)
Automatic triggers, such as the contactee getting excited, being pushed extradimensionally, or spaceplanes in the area are also used.
Off-planet rescuers are also spied on, though not as much as Homo Sapiens on Earth.
PREPARATION
Contactees need to have implants installed for communication and safety.
2020 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The bodies of contactees should be “thickened” so extradimensional transport is safer for them.
The bodies and souls of contactees ideally should to be exposed to different fields so they don’t become as ill when they’re moved into spaceplanes.
Contactees should be genetically modified ahead of time so they’re more resistant to toxins and viruses used by the Empire’s assassins.
Contactees should have and know how to use emergency encounter suits in case the spaceplane they board is depressurized by enemy attacks.
All contactees should own and carry an iPad for safety (and gift) reasons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ipad)
GETTING A SPACEPLANE CLOSE TO THE CONTACT EE
Empire weapon satellites detect (and potentially attack) dematerializing spaceplanes preparing to land or move extradimensionally close to contactees.
Earth’s security fields make it extremely difficult to land a spaceplane.
2021 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
GETTING THE CONTACTEE ON THE SPACEPLANE
Earth’s security fields make it extremely difficult to board contactees to spaceplanes via teleportation or gateways.
“Your soul it too heavy” – I finally learned what Chloe meant by that phrase. Earth’s contactees have too many attack/monitoring implants (aka: bits of metal) in their body, attached soul, and detached souls. The unnatural “metal” greatly slows down extradimensional movement (aka: teleportation), since the “metal” implants take longer to melt and unmelt. Earth contactees have 4x as much “implant junk” as non-Hominid contactees on other non-disclosed planets. Non-hominid contactees have 8x as much “junk” as disclosed non-hominids, who are better-protected from the Empire’s kill/implant-bots.
In the time it takes to get a spaceplane to the contactee and move/rotate them extradimensionally, the Empire can move “physics rotators” to the scene and interrupt the process.
Alternatively, an Empire’s spaceplane (or large bot) can arrive and occupy the space that the rescue spaceplane must occupy. Interfering spaceplanes are often non-Hominid ships (still part of the metaorganism), self-labelled as “war monitors”; they are supposed to be impartial, perhaps deciding if their nations should support either side of the war.
2022 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
ONCE ON THE SPACEPLANE
Attack implants can be triggered to go off at standard pressurization levels, or when pressurization levels rapidly change, causing the contactee to die soon after they board the rescue vehicle. Attack implants include toxins, slicing springs, stabbing devices, explosives, and neutron-bomb-like attacks. They usually attack the contactee’s brain, heart, liver, and floating soul. “Standard pressurizations” are regions of space where certain physics constants are modified to standard values.
Most attack implants are fine-tuned to a specific “standard pressurization level”, and consequently are more deadly there. Again, the contactee dies upon reaching the safety of the spaceplanes.
Some triffids (parasitic extradimensional worms) become deadlier at standard pressurizations
The rescue spaceplane might be shot down or depressurized by the Empire’s satellites or nearby military presence.
To avoid getting shot down, spaceplanes flee at unsafe speeds. To prevent this, contactees often have “speed limiters” pre-implanted by the Empire so that if the spaceplane moves too quickly, the contactee’s floating soul is detached, their body dies, and their soul/awareness is often lost.
2023 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
ONCE SAFELY AWAY
Locator beacons in the contactee’s body, attached soul, and floating souls, prevent contactee from hiding once off planet. The Empire’s satellites and militaries/assassins find the contactees and kill them, perhaps even taking them hostage.
MISCELLANEOUS
A large war is underway. Resources are limited and must be applied to the war. If you were stuck in an apartment in Luxemburg during World War II, the British wouldn’t be able to get you out until the end of the war.
Some treaties, which are gradually falling apart, make it politically difficult to rescue contactees. For example: Now-collapsed treaties with the local Homo Sapiens Empire prevented Earth’s contactees from escaping.
Rescuing contactees requires the use of advanced technologies relevant to the war. With the Hominid Empire constantly monitoring contactees, use of those technologies is inadvisable since their discovery, counteracting, and/or reverse-engineering might result in more deaths. In particular, the same Empire technologies being used to imprison contactees on Earth are slated to be used to lock non-Hominid civilians and militaries to their planets. Getting military off a planet is more important than rescuing contactees.
2024 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Any attempt to get contactees off a planet causes the Great Hominid Empire to assume the contactees are valuable militarily or financially; perhaps they’re hostage awarenesses, and or influential (and technologically-advanced) non-hominids hiding on “primitive” undisclosed non-hominid planets. The more valuable the Empire thinks the contactees are, the more the Empire tries to prevent their escape.
While people desire to rescue contactees for personal/sympathetic reasons, many contactees are more “valuable” on Earth than off, especially during a war.
Earth is being moved to a new pressurization (slightly different physics constants), and isn’t there yet. Once at the new pressurization, it should be easier to get contactees off.
Hominid militaries (and individuals in the militaries) find it a challenge/contest to block the escape of contactees.
Once contactees are off planet, they aren’t likely to return to Earth, either because they don’t want to, or because returning is too difficult.
A randomly deep thought Is your society headless? Or brainless? Who (as a demographic) decides how resources are allocated in your society?
2025 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
BICYCLES (PART 1) Most disclosure documents (on other planets) include sections where authors describe various spaceplanes, their capabilities, and how they work. I won’t do this. I will instead describe various bicycles from other planets...
CHEETAH BICYCLE
“The gazelle” model, super fast
2026 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
GECKO BICYCLE
“Gecko-scooter” with pump-action pedals.
2027 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The carbon-fibre “Flying gecko” with rolling seat and super pump action.
A randomly deep thought While Australians are proud of their ballad, The Man from Snowy River, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Man_from_Snowy_River_(poem) ), only a handful of “Greys” are so respectful of their Dadaist poem, “He died with a gum-nut up his nose.” For the record, “Grey” Dadaist poetry is much more enjoyable, entertaining, plausible, fun, better, and gooder than Vogon poetry. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vogon) (I was forced to write this endorsement.)
2028 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
GECKO ON TABLE STARI NG UP AT LIGHT The following “poem” isn’t nearly as good as “Grey” Dadaist poetry. (I was also forced to write this disendorsement.)
BINGO GAMBLING The dangling lamp above me fascinated White light Moths and other night insects flying around Wondered what they tasted like Bitter
Lying on my circular table Staring up at the light
Snare-drumming my fingers against the table Left hand, then right, then left
Peeled off some old skin from my chest 2029 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Staring up at the light
My remaining “friends” had left an hour before We had gambled using bingo-like cards And plastic chips No-one ate the chips this time That I saw
They had all left It wasn’t the same Without my friend
A randomly deep thought 400 years ago, whether the Earth rotated around the Sun was a religious debate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kepler, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copernicus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galileo) 100 years ago, evolution was a religious debate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evolution, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Genesis) 2030 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 50 years ago, the end of the world was a religious debate… until global thermonuclear war became a possibility. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_Thermonuclear_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armageddon) Until disclosure, the nature of the soul and life after bodily-death is open to religious debate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soul)
FRIEND’S DEATH A couple weeks before My friend had died Lived in my ex-grandmother’s house With me
My house, her house, my ex-grandmother’s house Half fly-screen enclosed patio A large green table in the centre Above which hung a light Against the wall was a sink Run from water collected by the corrugated iron roof 2031 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The other half was into a single room was enclosed My bed was on one side Her bed on the other She was closest to the sink and mirror Her bed was now empty
I stared at the light Lying on the green table It dimmed slightly As my power box faded
Her body I buried two days after she died A shallow grave a ways from the house Her/my friends visited Noted their respects to the grave And went on with their lives
She was perfectly healthy I’m not sure why she died 2032 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 She was happy in the evening A headache Dead in the morning
A deeply random thought In the war metaorganism, it is very easy to turn into your enemy. For example: The allies carpet-bombed Germany. McCarthyism was a reaction to the cold war with Soviet Union. US soldiers destroyed villages in Vietnam. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carpet_bombing, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McCarthyism, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Lai_Massacre) Part of the “trick” of war, is to NOT become nasty as quickly as your enemy.
THE PARTY CONVERSATION What happened at the party? Was there any conversation? It may have revolved around alcohol (not quite alcohol, but the same effect) 2033 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Or throwing gambling pieces around Or where to holiday Or who was losing Or who was winning Or “I saw you eat that chip!”
Got eyed by one of the “boys” Nothing mentioned about stars Nothing about getting off the planet Nothing about our voice-only friends Who didn’t exist to her/my friends, then around the table
A randomly deep thought How many US politicians are listening to market angels? Do marketing angels proxy vote through ministers? Do ministers proxy vote through their flock?
2034 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HOMINIDS Hominids lived nearby No-one visited them I won’t mention why
On my bicycle I walked it a kilometre down a small track At a T-intersection with a road I bicycled to the left The Hominids were to the right
Reaching the hamlet half an hour later Was a parts store And a part-time restaurant And a few gecko houses And a food store
When in need of money 2035 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I worked at the food store It paid for food I couldn’t find in the wild And a few repairs to my house, my friend’s house, and my ex-grandmother’s house
A deeply random thought “If the other side wins, they’re going to do all the nasty stuff to us that we’re thinking about doing to them.” – Teenager theory of mind.
JOB The light no longer lit My power supply had died They normally lasted for years
I returned left to the village Accepted work at the shop 2036 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Taking money from people Cleaning up Stocking food
In a few weeks I would have enough money I could purchase another power supply And then stop work until I needed more
Nothing mattered much without my friend
I worked Maybe a week
A randomly deep thought Prehensile-tailed children have “hand-tail” races where they race with a beachball held between their knees and tail.
2037 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
THE OFFER A hominid drove up You’d call it a 1930’s diesel pickup truck In the tray were goods for the shop Brought in by spaceplanes Which they controlled
I unloaded the goods He eyed me off, curious He liked the look of my eyes I could tell The surrounding skin was exceptionally colourful
“I heard you wanted to get off the planet?”, said the Hominid. Yes “Are you sure?” Yes I was depressed “I’ll stop by in a few days.” 2038 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought On an undisclosed planet recently, the first E-mail spam was sent by someone talking about disclosure issues. Unfortunately, at least one of the thousands of people E-mailed was involved in the local off-planet mafia taking advantage of the planet’s lack of disclosure. The spammer was summarily executed… a good precedent for spam-kind, a bad precedent for disclosure though.
A TUBE Two days later he stopped by He entered the store Asked me to come out This time his truck’s tray had no goods
In the back of his pickup 2039 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A glossy black cylinder lay Elliptical A bit taller than me Wider
He pulled it off Stood it vertically Opened it like a oyster shell
“All you have to do to get off the planet is step in.” “I’ll close it around you.” “You’ll be on a spaceplane tonight.” “I don’t know where you’ll go though.”
I stepped in
He closed the oyster shell
2040 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Many smaller one-man spaceplanes have trailer attachments for luggage, killbot dispensers, and nuclear-sub-equivalent nuclear arsenals.
THE TRIP The tube’s inside was dark There were some holes for air, and waste Just above my eyes A scratched-plastic window Lit the interior And showed the sky
The man raised me (and the tube) Pushed me onto his ute I didn’t mind The space was too small The air too stuffy Gecko panic could have arrived 2041 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But I didn’t mind
I was depressed.
I was going to leave My/her friends I hadn’t told Nor the shopkeeper for whom I was working
I was depressed
The car door opened The man climbed in The car door closed The engine started And drove us away
My bicycle left behind
Twenty minutes of bumps later The car stopped 2042 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Its engine ceased
Someone discussed me with the man “A willing gecko”
Two pairs of shoed feet picked up my tube I was carried across some dry ground Up a clanking metal grate And set down on a metal floor
“Are you alright?” Yes, I said. “We’ll get you food in a bit.”
Two hours later The spaceplane hummed We took off I never was fed Not an issue
2043 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The spaceplane was shot down A casualty of war
It may have been for the best I didn’t know it then And wouldn’t have cared I was collectable Like a pretty pebble Or a shell from the sea
A deeply random thought If Maxwell’s (current) equations describe the link between electric and magnetic forces, and there are an infinite number of forces, and light (as we know it) is an oscillation between electric and magnetic… then are there other forms of non-electromagnetic light?
2044 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
AVOIDING UFO EMBARRASSMENT WITH YOUR FRIENDS If you want to E-mail these documents to your friends, but you’re too embarrassed, then please E-mail them one or more short stories from: (Formatted for E-book readers.)
http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
A deeply random thought Extradimensional people who clean attached and detached souls for both fun and profit often hang out at holiday resorts where stressed-out threedimensional people go to “detox”. Despite their crab-like appearance, they are very friendly.
2045 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
FURTHER READING You can continue reading these articles on: http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory2.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory3.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
2046 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 22 July 2010 Draft 2, 25 July 2010 Draft 3, 1 August 2010 Draft 4, 11 August 2010
Draft 5, 18 August 2010 Draft 6, 24 August 2010 Draft 7, 26 August 2010
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my articles: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheReallyWierdStuff.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheNarrative.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
2047 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
Never-ever prevent a contactee from getting off the planet; they will pervert the course of history.
2048 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
BICYCLES (PART 2) In keeping with my “alien” bicycles theme, instead of describing their spaceplanes, here are some more off-planet bicycles... which aren’t really bicycles:
LEMUR QUAD
Featuring three wheels, and heads-up display built into the helmet
2049 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
SAURIAN HORSEBACK RIDING
Featuring lean-forward saddle and chest-pressure horse controls
2050 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HORSE SAURIAN-BACK RIDING
Featuring a Saurian with a sore back, and a pony with a spiked stomach 2051 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought What would happen if religious wackos from space successfully implanted “the pill” into people in the planet’s top 10% of intelligence? Or a chemical to cause lethargy? Or induce cancer?
PLANETOID AWARENESS DREAM (20/7/10) SKULLS In the awareness dream, I looked through the eyes of a Hominid on a planet several galaxies away. For the next few days, I would be assigned to helping a permanent employee with the task of setting up the displays in a beach-side museum. We were setting up a chariot before the kids arrived. The “hitching neck” of the chariot, where horses or other animals would be tied to, was constructed of two converging wood beams, painted black. My temporary boss handed me a few skulls; I was to place them atop the chariot’s hitching neck. I first placed the smallest skulls at the front of the neck, where the beams converged. They were children’s skulls, I think. Most likely deer or elk evolved. 2052 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Each skull was chain-linked to the skull in front of it, heavy-metal-music style. I was having difficulty connecting some of the skulls together with the cheaply-made eye links. Children were expected to arrive soon; they would climb all over the chariot, tear apart the display (as pre-teens and teens do), and likely smash some of the skulls.
TSUNAMI “Tsunami!” yelled a boy as he ran into the room. The death chariot’s room had a wall entirely glass, with a few glass doors. The view looked out over a harbor, a beach in front, and city surrounding the harbor. The entire class of pre-teens charged in. My boss and I bolted behind a wall, and watched the approaching wave through a doorway. A one-meter wave smashed through the glass windows. Behind it followed a smaller wave. Looking further out, a few kilometres off I saw a 100 meter high wave. Blank. I woke up.
2053 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PLANETOID IMPACT A planetoid was rammed into the Hominid planet because the Hominid military there had rammed several planetoids into non-Hominid planets. The large tsunami wasn’t technically a tsunami. Sound (and hence waves) travels at 1000 kmph in air, 20 – 200 kmph in water, and 4000+ kmph through the ground. The distant wave was an “earth-ripple”, a Z-wave rippling across the planet caused by the planetoid’s distant impact. The smaller one-meter wave was also an earth-ripple, but caused by the sound-wave generated as the planetoid first impacted the planet’s atmosphere. Given the magnitude 12+ earthquake coincident with the 100m earth-ripple, no buildings would have been left standing. The tsunami that followed the earth-ripple would have drowned anyone not killed by collapsing buildings. The volcanism, and dust generated by the volcanism, would kill more people and much of the planet’s plant and animal life.
A randomly deep thought The 240,000 people, 20,000 year plan to build your own race = intelligent design (Editor’s note: I originally wrote that 20,000 people for 20,000 years were required to build your own race. I misplaced a zero several times.)
2054 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
“DISCLOSURE” SCIENCE FICTION WHAT KIND OF FICTION WOULD HELP WITH THE PROCESS OF DISCLOSURE? Provided existing novel market-categories, disclosure literature would either have to be marketed under “science fiction,” or a distant second, “fantasy”.
WHAT WOULD THE THEMES OF DISCLOSURE “FICTION” BE? Typical science fiction employs the following themes:
Cool new technology
How technology affects cultures
Strange new places
Space battles
2055 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Disclosure science-fiction (as I propose) emphasizes different themes:
Disclosure memes – Not just UFOs landing and aliens popping out, but also concepts about metaorganisms, ways of thinking, the extradimensional natures of our bodies, etc.
Racism – Racism is an enormous problem, both after disclosure on Earth, and throughout the taurosphere. Disclosure fiction should elucidate the difference in racial personalities, behaviour, cultures, and appearance, as well as how these engender racism... and how to then minimize racism.
Slavery and serfdom – These ideas tie in with racism.
“Crowd control” – Controlling a population of slaves, serfs, or even ordinary people using light globes (telepathy bots), spy-bots, and kill/venom-bots should be addressed.
War de-glorified – At the end of World War II, most American war movies were about heroism, killing Nazis/Japs, and dying with a bloodless bullet through your heart (with hand held over the bloodless bullet hole). PostVietnam movies were designed to convince viewers to never want to go to war again. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Platoon_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Full_Metal_Jacket, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamburger_Hill, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casualties_of_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saving_Private_Ryan)
2056 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
HOOKS What holds the readers’ interests?
New situations for the readers – Disclosure-fiction readers will enjoy descriptions of other planets, how their culture differs, and the unique social problems faced by a multiracial world.
Wish fulfillment – People who read science fiction (and fantasy) don’t wish to live in a nine-to-five accounting job on Earth. They long to travel to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and NOT kill them.
Based on real events – Though I can’t prove it to skeptics: UFOs and “aliens” do exist. Slavery exists. “Crowd control” exists. The war is happening. Fiction based on real events is more compelling than fiction based on invented times.
Character empathy – Stories should be written so that readers empathize with the main characters.
Conflict/danger – Authors often claim that stories are about “conflict”. While I don’t think that conflict is a requirement for stories, it does hold their attention.
The following hooks, typical to science fiction and fantasy, are NOT a priority:
Character development – For reasons described below, I expect most disclosure fiction to be too short for character development to play a role.
Intertwined storylines – Again, if disclosure-fiction stories are short, intertwined storylines aren’t necessary.
2057 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Cool new technology – Technology plays a role in developing and/or causing the themes. Technology is not the focus of the stories.
OTHER GOALS
E-books – The future of text fiction is with E-books, tablets (like the iPad), and notebook computers. Story-text and images should be oriented towards electronic display and distribution.
Viral distribution – Viral distribution may be preferred. It works well with Ebooks, and greatly reduces advertising costs. Viral distribution also spreads the stories to other planets.
Copyleft – Though not necessary, copyleft enhances viral distribution. Copyleft stories can more-legally be modified for local off-planet cultures, translated, and distributed around the taurosphere. Movie tie-ins are easier with copyleft, though less profitable for the author.
50 pages – On Earth, most books max out at 500 pages. Homo Sapiens have a “story gene” that lets them imbibe incredibly long stories. Most races become bored if a story is more than 50 pages. If you wish your disclosure fiction to reach an off-planet audience, it should be limited to short stories and/or novellas. (Short stories are more easily culturally-customize and translated.)
2058 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PERSONAL GOALS FOR MY STORIES Goals that I have for my own disclosure fiction are:
Internet tie-in with my disclosure documents – People that read my stories might be interested in learning more about disclosure and off-planet life with my more-technical documents.
First person – Instead of currently-popular third person.
Different writing styles for every story
Different characters for every story
Different settings for every story
Occasional humorous stories
Occasional crappy illustrations – My viral stories will most-likely be read using E-books. Unlike printed books, graphics are cheap. I can sketch well enough to underpin the story.
SHAMELESS LINKS To read some of my disclosure “fiction”, see: http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
2059 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought If you: 1.
Write derivates as inverse integrals. is a particularly bad symbol to use, but Microsoft Word won’t let me display the correct symbol, an integral symbol with an X through it.
2.
Write the derivative-based physics equations as inverse integrals. Instead of F=ma, write = .
3.
Inverse integrals cancel out integrals… kind of. Don’t “solve” the (inverse) integrals until the end.
Physics becomes a little bit easier.
2060 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
EXPANDED HOMINID CONTROL STACK (WRITTEN 21/7/2010) THREE-DIMENSIONALS
More-detailed Hominid control stack
2061 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
EVEN MORE TYPES OF PEOPLE ARE INVOLVED
“The machine”
Defending against “The machine”
Three-dimensionals
Unnamed
Most races
Hyper-dimensionals
Unnamed
Cthulhuoids Others
Soul spacers
Unnamed
Unnamed
Space natives
Unnamed
Space squids Others
A randomly deep thought Some Zeen men have a habit of tilting the wall paintings of politicians. The meaning is symbolic; you have to grock why.
2062 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WHY PEOPLE FROM OTHER PLANETS DON’T APPRECIATE SOME FURRY ARTWORK
Deer are particularly irksome at times. Note the antlers in felt.
2063 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Most mammal-evolved “aliens” (particularly deer-evolved “aliens”)...
Do not have hair.
Do not have breasts, though they might have nipples.
Do not have the same upper-arm vs. lower-arm ratios, and upper-leg vs. lower-leg ratios as Hominids.
Many do not have 5 fingers and 5 toes.
They often wear different-style clothing.
Many do not wear shoes.
A randomly deep thought When stock markets go down, “analysts” use the term, “profit taking”. Therefore, when stock markets go up, the correct term is “loss making”.
2064 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
LET’S MOVE TO EARTH! DISSIDENT/REFUGEE IMMIGRATION (Dinking 1950’s music playing in the background.) Imagine, if you will, that you are a dissident/refugee in the disclosed part of The Great Hominid Empire.
WHAT PLANET WOULD YOU MOVE TO? 1.
Your planet of refuge should be one that is being ignored by the Empire.
2.
Your planet of choice should have enough variety in Hominids that you don’t look terribly different.
3.
It should have reasonable technology levels, such as digital watches. It cannot, however, have spaceplanes, because then it would be part of the larger Empire and more-closely watched.
4.
It should be a planet with references… from friends, relatives, and children that have moved and/or studied there.
2065 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
http://rst.gsfc.nasa.gov/Sect19/earth-3d-space-tour-big.jpg
WHAT COUNTRY WOULD YOU MOVE TO? 1.
You would chose to move to a major power in the planet.
2.
The powerful country should be physically large, since faking drivers’ licenses is easy, but faking passports is more difficult.
3.
The nation’s money should be easy to counterfeit… since you’ll be needing money for your retirement/hiding.
4.
Other laws might also prove convenient… such as (a) no requirement to vote, (b) no requirement for proof of citizenship when purchasing property,
2066 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and (c) no “death taxes”… since YOU know that you don’t really die when your body does, but THEY don’t. 5.
If you were a dissident/refugee, you would want a more-democratic country. Non-dissidents might also prefer democracies, but only as long as the democracies did what they (as a group) wanted.
Follow the red arrows.
A deeply random thought The galactic core isn’t really missing until your parents come home and realize that the black-painted wad of paper at the center of the galaxy is mass-less.
2067 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
THE WARDENS (ALSO CALLED THE “OOMS” – IT’S A “GREY” JOKE) Imagine, if you will, that you were part of The Great Hominid Empire and realized that many of your troublemakers (not dissidents to you) were moving to such a planet. What would you do? Hide some “wardens” in the dissident/refugee crowd; they would be tasked with watching, controlling, and killing dissidents/refugees.
A randomly deep thought Disclosure art – Like disclosure literature/fiction, but using artwork as a medium. (http://browse.deviantart.com/anthro/)
2068 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
http://khaosdog.deviantart.com/art/May103472184?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo=23
THE “DACHA” OWNERS Imagine, if you will, that you were very wealthy, knew about the mostly non-violent dissents on the planet, as well as your supporters, and your wardens. It might be nice to have a Dacha (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dacha) of several thousand square meters and a few hundred square kilometers on said planet. Of course, ex (and future) emperors would want something a bit less modest.
2069 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought
Condik http://www.aliendoodles.com/thegalle ry.htm
Tirkit http://www.aliendoodles.com/thegalle ry.htm
HIDING OUT ON EARTH Meanwhile, the original dissidents/refugees are:
Keeping their heads low, so as not to be noticed. They would land with very little technology, and they certainly would never admit to being aliens.
Worried that their E-mail is watched, phones tapped, and any web site they look at has their IP address recorded. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ip_address)
Stuck in the country where they moved to, particularly after 9/11 and the tougher passport laws required for entering and leaving the US from Canada and Mexico.
2070 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
They might even self-censor UFO news and science fiction so that The Empire wouldn’t notice the Earth.
Oops, forgot about no high-school friends in Facebook. The “ooms” really forgot about this.
THREE SIDES
The “Ooms” are out to control and/or kill the off-planet dissidents/refugees. They are also arch-enemies of reptiloids, “animal” people, and “bugs”.
The off-planet dissidents/refugees are terrified of the Ooms. They are enemies of the reptiloids, “animal” people, and “bugs”… because of their prior history.
The reptiloids, “animal” people, and “bugs” are enemies of the three-yearold Hominids because the Hominids have attacked, enslaved, and genocided them and their three-year-olds.
Wars usually force people to choose either Side A, or Side B.
The reptiloids, “animal” people, and “bugs” (and still-friendly “greys”) are now protecting the indigenous Earth population, as well as the off-planet dissidents on Earth.
2071 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought What if my estimate of the number of off-planet Hominids on Earth is off by a factor of a thousand? Off-planet Hominids also experience “UFO embarrassment”.
A randomly deep thought The ideas expressed in this document do NOT represent a new religion, more of an aberrant philosophy.
WHAT IT’S LIKE TO DI E BODY DEATH My body hasn’t died too often, so I’m mostly repeating what I’m told… 1.
“Blank”.
2072 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Alternatively, your body might shut down: Limbs go numb, heart and breathing stop, color fades, the light dims, and you sit in darkness. 2.
You wake up (kind of), looking through the cameras/eyes of one of the many “death’s” ferrying souls around. Some of the deaths are Anthun, sometimes known as “clown people”. They may have worn dark-grey cowls in the middle ages. Some of the deaths don’t have eyes that your soul can readily adjust to, so you see nothing. New consortiums start up all the time… a recently formed soul-ferrying charity has been created by Macropod-evolved people. Since “Qantas” was already taken, they call themselves “The Flying Kangaroos”. “Deaths” get quite irked when they have to pick up a soul from an unnecessary suicide. They may do something nasty.
3.
Your soul may be ferried to some temporary lodging, where you have time to realize that you’re dead. This lodging may be on Earth, in the form of Human coat racks. Or even in “toy worlds” occupied by androids, often shaped like toys, and often enslaved by others.
4.
After you have come to your senses, you may be asked where you wish to go, and/or trialed in several different bodies. Your soul can be attached to a toddler. Or an older, consenting adult, often a relative. Children’s souls are often attached to other children.
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November 12, 2011 You may have the option to be placed in a Hominid body on other planets, or in a non-Hominid race, or even a medium-sized animal. 5.
In the past, you would have been forced into a Hominid body, and your soul(s) might have been stripped. (See “Soul death” below.)
6.
You will eventually merge with the body’s previous occupants after cooccupation period of several days to months … it’s like driving a car with two steering wheels that gradually merge into one. As a new soul/awareness in a body, you remember (for the most part) who you were. Over a few days, you temporarily forget who you were, and only re-remember your old self after your awarenesses have merged. Reremembering sometimes takes the form of often-unnecessary hypnotherapy regression-sessions… or feelings of, “I’ve been here before”… or the desire to eat lucerne with raisins. Knowledge seems to merge more quickly. Personalities merge quickly.
7.
Welcome to your new life!
A randomly deep thought A telepathic 911 (emergency) call – “Requesting medical assistance. My brain (or heart) hurts. Followed by more detail.”
2074 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
SOUL DEATH Think amnesia. Depending upon how much of your soul(s) has/have died…
At first, you feel like you’re living in a dream… in that you cannot remember anything outside the context of the dream.
You forget who you were, including changes to your personality.
You don’t know where and when you are.
You can’t think properly.
You forget that have ever died before.
Temporary amnesia feels like soul death, but is actually soul theft.
A deeply random thought As a contactee, any non-contactee you talk to has:
-15 IQ points because they are light-globed by the light-globes that follow you everywhere; their eyes tend to glaze over when you
2075 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 approach.
-30 IQ points because they only want to talk about shampooing their carpet, while you want to discuss the more philosophical matters of “What is life like off the planet? I want to get off the planet god-damnit! Your carpet doesn’t matter!”
A bonus penalty of -15 IQ points for anyone belonging to an oppressive metaorganism.
At -45 to -60 conversation IQ points, all you can do is comment about the weather.
2076 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
POSSIBLE ECONOMIC RAMIFICATIONS OF DISCLOSURE Below is an approximate graph of the number of hours a day that an adult works throughout history, and where the labour goes.
Economy 10
9
Child Warfare
8
Crime and justice
Welfare (to poor/retired)
7
Debt payment (welfare to rich)
Insurance premium
6
Invention tax 5
Holidays
Entertainment 4
Toys (Televisions, etc.)
Medical 3
Work expenses (like transport) Education
2
Clothing Shelter
1
Food
0 -2000
1
1000
1800
1900
2000
2100A 2100B
http://www.disclosuree.com/Economy.xlsx
“2100A” is a rough estimate of living expenses 90 years from now, without disclosure.
2077 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “2100B” is a rough estimate of living expenses 90 years from now, if disclosure happens. In the 2100B scenario, weorking hours should be reduced, because:
As technology is “twinked” to Homo Sapiens, the “Invention tax” drops. The “Invention tax” is the percentage of the economy devoted to inventing new technology, such as new releases of software or organic-LED displays.
“Twinked” spaceplane-technology reduces travel and transport expenses. Holiday expenses, for example, are reduced.
Earth is overpopulated. The number of children born per adult is expected to drop with or without disclosure. With disclosure, the overpopulation crisis will be emphasized. Fewer children result in the overall cost of raising children to drop.
Shelter expenses drop (per person) as the population drops, because people stop building new houses and only maintain them. With fewer people, populations aggregate around more-economic locations, such as away from cold regions with high-heating bills.
As expenses drop, debt payment (welfare to the rich) drops.
Which means that people work less...
As people work fewer hours, older people can work longer into old-age without having to retire, so “Welfare (to poor/retired)” drops.
As people work less, they spend less on “toys”, “entertainment”, and “holidays”. They spend more time on the activities, but less money... People “spend big” on toys, entertainment, and holidays now to counteract the stress of working 9+ hours a day.
2078 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The US is the 11th state/province of Canada. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canada)
A DIFFERENT WAY TO THINK ABOUT WORK LEMMAS Some important lemmas:
Everyone has to “clean toilets”... which means they need to do work which they’d rather not do. Said work either needs to be a must-do chore (like cleaning toilets) or people must be paid to do the work.
As technology improves, the cost of keeping someone alive on welfare (minimum food, shelter, and clothing) drops to near-zero.
A deeply random thought The Southern Hemisphere Club – Including Australia, South America, Central America, and the honorary member, India. For some unknown reason, Scotland seems to have had a sign flipped, and is also in the Southern Hemisphere.
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November 12, 2011
NON-WORKERS A welfare state, where over half the population DOESN’T do a few hours of work a day for the public benefit, is possible... and already exists in most industrialized Earth nations. What do you do with people who aren’t forced to work, aren’t needed for the economy, and don’t want to work? Our current society deals with non-workers in a few ways:
Retirees are allowed/encouraged to “slouch” because they are expected to never be able to do anything productive for the rest of their lives. What about volunteering? Or part-time work at daycares (aka: babysitting grandchildren)?
“Low-value” workers are forced to work at McDonalds (or some other menial labour) whether or not their activities society. Front-counter people, for example, spend half their time waiting for customers to say, “I want... um... uh... a Big Mac meal... No, change that... um... uh...” A touch-screen would save them time (and/or reduce the number of front-counter employees needed), except that McDonalds would sell fewer Big Macs.
Lazy and unemployable people are hidden away in “waste people’s lands” called slums, where they bear children.
A randomly deep thought “Earth? Earth?! Why did you name your planet after dirt?” 2080 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Yeah, well, we named our galaxy, “Lots of Stars”.” “Ours is “The milky way”.” “Damn mammals, obsessed with mammary glands. Some of your kind named your (and our) galaxy, “The big nipple”.”
MOTIVATED PEOPLE Meanwhile, motivated people (who really don’t need to be paid to work)...
Work very long days. Because they are salaried, they must work 5-6 days a week, 8-10 hours a day. Ironically, “low value” workers, who aren’t motivated, work 3-4 days a week, 4-6 hours a day.
Motivated people have their job description set by the corporation they work for. The corporation sets its goals based on market demand. Market demand is partially influenced by non-workers, who want large televisions because they’re bored, the extremely wealthy, who want superfluous mansions and a yachts, and motivated workers, who are overstressed by working too much and need expensive toys, entertainment, and holidays to detox.
In other words, “motivated people” rarely get to think about and/or act upon the next section...
2081 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought My abduction “story” is a new twist on HP Lovecraft’s short stories, where the protagonist enters the story as an average person, sees some Cthulhuoids, and leaves via an insane asylum. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lovecraft) I started out insane, and gradually become sane throughout the “story”… by distributing my insanity points to others via this document. (http://www.disclosuree.com/RozakAbduction.pdf)
IF YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO WORK, BUT STILL WANTED TO... After leaving Microsoft, I asked myself the question, “I don’t have to work, but I still want to. What do I want to do?”
I wanted to do something that helped society... in ways that I personally thought that society needed to improve, not in ways that a corporate boss thought important.
Being financially independent, there was no point in me doing “a job” that a business would pay someone to do.
As a sub-step, part of “the work” that I did was to think about (and research) what work needed to be done (by me).
One thing I DIDN’T do was self-assign me multiple “jobs” and goals. Doing the same task day-in and day-out, and/or trying to achieve the same goal day-in and day-out, leads to burnout.
2082 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Flip this around to yourself: In most western cultures, you can live on unemployment for the rest of your life, and don’t really have to work for a business. In other words, you are (to an extent) financially impendent. What kind of volunteer work do you want to do?
A deeply random thought An image of the “Far Side” cartoon, “Imbeciles of the world untie [sic – “unite”]” should go here. The image is a heard of imbeciles on a protest march, carrying an upside-down banner with “Imbeciles of the world untie.” I can’t find the image on the internet though. “Geeks (and artsy types) of the world unite… and pervert the course of history!”
WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?
What is your work doing to benefit yourself, beyond money?
How does it benefit your children (and family), beyond money?
How does it benefit people you don’t agree with?
How does it benefit society?
How does it benefit society in ways that you think are important?
2083 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
How does it benefit people off the planet?
How much do telepathy-bots (by influencing people’s intuition) influence your job-selection criteria and your boss’s “we need to do this” decisions?
Do you let the imbeciles of the world influence where your (volunteering) labour is spent? How much do wealthy people influence it? Intelligent people? Philanthropic people?
Are you working for several organizations, only one of whom actually pays your salary?
A deeply random thought To be “ubernided” – To have Ubernids land on your Hominid planet with a semifriendly but enormous military, and then incorporate your much smaller planetary military into their own, offering your generals and politicians either retirement package A (on a sunny planet) or retirement package B (under the ground). As a general and/or politician, it would be political suicide to ask your archenemies, the reptiloids, “animal” people, and/or “bugs” to help prevent the Ubernids from landing.
2084 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
BICYCLES (PART 3) FATHER AND SON RIDING A BICYCLE
2085 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought This is my joke. As you can see, I’m not very funny, nor am I the source of most of the jokes in this document. In fact, most of what I have written here is typed via Avatar remote-control technology TM, so I can’t even admit to typing the document.
2086 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
EXTREME BOBCAT/LYNX SLEDDING
A randomly deep thought Eyeballing – The process of inserting semi-transparent camera bubbles into people’s eyes so you can see exactly what they’re seeing. (My mother’s gift of an LED E-book light-want helped discover 60,000 eyeball implants.)
2087 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
PHYSIOLOGY Here is my “Rain Man” list of physiological changes that I have noticed over the last year. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rain_Man) I am NOT writing this list to prove anything to you. I could care less if people believed me. This is written to alert people of some of the possible signs of genetic augmentation.
ACOUSTIC
After returning from the hospital with neurological damage, I found it somewhat difficult to understand spoken English.
My three-dimensional sound perception is neurologically damaged.
Music sounds “muddy” and is not as enjoyable, again from neurological damage. I don’t perceive formants as accurately.
A deeply random thought (Translated from a now less-used dialect of the Anamami.) Dear Mr. Rozak, Regarding your “Planetoid Awareness Dream”. 2088 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 You forgot to mention the longitudinal waves, and the sixteen-story-high tsunami that followed the Z-wave. When a planetoid impacted us recently, those people whose building didn’t collapse due to the Z-wave, were ping-ponged across their room a minute later, and then drowned by the tsunami… which helpfully doused the fires created by the earthquake. Sincerely, [Unpronounceable name] Former producer of the “Oobs” comedy television show
“The Oobs” television show is a current-affairs cartoon with animation similar to “Ren and Stimpy”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ren_and_stimpy)
DIET
Lots of mixed fruit juices, not just orange juice.
I now prefer dried fruits, like figs, cranberries, and blueberries.
I prefer meats with high-fat content, such as lamb and beef. Turkey is very good. Chicken is pointless.
I prefer cheese and (high-density) ice cream.
Chocolate.
Heaps of ground pepper. I never liked ground pepper before.
2089 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Breads are unappetizing. I used to love multigrain bread.
Daily bowls of cereal are unappetizing.
Nuts (such as cashews) don’t taste as good. (I still like peanut butter though.)
I used to love onions. Not anymore.
Vegetables don’t taste good... except for cheese, which is an honorary vegetable.
Potato chips taste 5x as salty as they did before.
Chillies are 2x-3x as hot.
MSG is completely unappetizing.
A randomly deep thought Some answers to, “What is the meaning of life?”
The number, forty two. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy)
“If I told you, I’d have to shoot you.”
I figured out the meaning of life a few years ago, but I forgot to write it down, and I can’t recall what I forgot to write down.
2090 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
DRIVES
The thought of putting on a light backpack and walking down a winding country road forever is appealing. (Aka: “walkabout”)
I am no longer interested in long stories. I am particularly disinterested in watching television.
I enjoy walking under moonlight more than during the day. Starlight is also enjoyable, though I occasionally employ a flashlight.
A deeply random thought Gecko juice:
Pawpaw, slightly fermented – The “magic” ingredient.
Sweet lime – You can’t get this on Earth. Ordinary lime will do.
Mandarin oranges or tangerines
Guava
Some people recommend mango.
Most people recommend NO pawpaw whatsoever.
Place in a juicer.
2091 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MOUTH
My saliva is thinner.
I have less lip-scum in the morning.
I am thirstier after exertion, although I don’t need to drink more.
A randomly deep thought The US was a neutral country, with respect to Europe, for a hundred years, until World War II forced it to take sides against the Nazis. (World War I did also, but the US returned to neutrality afterwards.) Unfortunately, once a nation decides to take sides against an enemy, it is difficult for them to decide to not take sides in a post-war, potentially-peaceful world. Abhorrent to a pre-1940’s US, the US has taken “sides” since the end of World War II, even forming its own side.
2092 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
MUSCULAR
My hand muscles feel springy-er than before, and like springing into a semiclosed position.
My eyes aren’t as twitchy as before, preferring to rotate to a lookingforward position. I rarely rotate them left/right now, and only sometimes up/down.
My heart feels different, heavier and stronger.
My muscles tend to “fall asleep” more easily when blood-flow is reduced, and their “asleep” feeling is different than before.
A randomly deep thought Major nations on Earth had “patron” off-planet Hominid nations. Canada and Australia (but not New Zealand) had been annexed into the US patronage by the off-planet Hominids. Non-Hominid nations are now helping protect Earth’s nations from their Hominid patrons.
2093 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
NEUROLOGICAL
My memory works differently.
The methods I use to think and analyse are slightly different.
I have tactile nerve damage.
My finger response and accuracy isn’t as good as before.
A deeply random thought Never-ever combine Steve Irwin with a lemur-evolved body… just an idea for the next Men in Black movie. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_in_black_2, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_irwin)
OLFACTORY
Odours are 1.5 x – 2x as powerful, distance-wise.
Odours have more detail. Before, I could recognize one, maybe two, “notes” in an odour. This has expanded to three to four notes.
2094 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I have experienced bot-assisted smellograms. My olfactory capabilities are around 1/10th those of someone with long nasal passages. Most of them can identify individuals by odours, just like we identify individuals by sight. They also have directional odour detection.
A randomly deep thought Old technologies are not entirely superseded by new technologies. Laser printers haven’t entirely replaced dot-matrix printers. People still ride horses and use buggy whips. If “aliens” (hominid or non-hominid) transported their (black) helicopters and (lookalike) jet fighters to Earth, would anyone notice them but www.YouTube.com videos? Helicopters certainly wouldn’t be picked up on radar. Stealth fighter-jets flying at 200 kmph (not 600 kmph), 1000m elevation, with faked Cessna beacons wouldn’t be spotted by radar either. Non-hominid “aliens” could be flying in helicopters and jets around Earth, and you’d never know.
PERSONALITY
My sense of humour is different.
I am more adverse to discussing someone’s carpeting dilemmas.
2095 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Don’t contaminate your water with soft drinks, alcohol, coffee, MSG, or Teflon.
SKELETAL
My lower back has been straightened. I have no photographic evidence of this.
My hands may be a 4 mm longer; see the image of a concrete cast I made in 2001 when I finished building my house. My hand no longer fits.
My tailbone may be missing.
The doctor found a “spur” (technical term?) in my broken foot that hurt whenever I walked, when I had my cast taken off. It no longer hurts.
2096 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 After getting my cast removed, a bone next to my pinkie-toe felt like it was the wrong shape, and walking on it was uncomfortable. I’m not sure if this was due to fat/muscle loss, or bone reshaping while the cast was on.
A randomly deep thought You can live on (dense) ice cream until you are 3 ½ years old.
SKIN
I have slightly more body hair.
My body odour has changed slightly.
My skin pigmentation looks slightly different to me... but my colour perception has also changed, so I’m not certain about this.
Short-term, daily sun-exposure feels very good.
Less acne.
Scratching my limbs feels exceptionally good.
2097 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Rat Jazz – Rat-evolved people have an improvisational form of Jazz poetry: 1.
2.
Someone begins the session by picking a key and singing/chanting out a few bars (a stanza). a.
The bars are always sung in the minor key, with some “off notes”.
b.
Rhythm is very important, containing many rules about what rhythm patters are acceptable, and how often and long certain notes can be used in a stanza.
c.
Half of the notes are scatted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scat_singing)
d.
The other half are sung with words, creating a story or cooking recipe.
Someone else in the song-group takes up the song: a.
They must choose a sequential non-dissonant key.
b.
Their rhythms and melody must complement the existing lines.
c.
They need to continue the story (poetry) in direction that everyone likes. (Otaku-Rats fail miserably at this.)
3.
Repeat.
4.
Rat-Jazz is sometimes combined with a drinking game, alcoholpoisoning the people who are too skilled at Rat Jazz… as opposed to Homo Sapiens karaoke where the bad singers only get more inebriated.
2098 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
SLEEP
I sleep more now, and more deeply.
It takes me longer to wake up.
I fall asleep more quickly.
I used to be a morning person. Now I am an evening and early-night person.
I used to prefer very bright rooms. I now prefer dark rooms.
Hiding under blankets is appealing.
A deeply random thought The act of spending money is an act of wielding power over other people. Power corrupts. Therefore, only spend money when absolutely necessary.
2099 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
VISION
I can read my car’s license plate by starlight at 1 meter distance. I can almost read my Sony E-book by moonlight.
I perceive colours at night.
I see more colours by day, including violet and ultraviolet colours.
Fluorescent lights now look slightly green. Some halogen lights are slightly yellow-orange.
A deeply random thought Fluffified – When your brain feels like compacted cotton balls, usually resulting from chemical protection applied by medical bots.
VOICE
My voice’s cadence has changed.
My voice’s is “smoother”.
2100 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 My implants pick up new words all the time... since they talk to other implants when I’m not watching.
A deeply random thought How many off-planet Hominids would be needed to “crowd control” Earth? 4 x 109 people on Earth (not 6 billion) x 50% in industrialized nations = 2 x 109 x 10% of people monitored max = 2 x 108 / 20 Earth people monitored per off-planet Hominid = 1 x 107 x (3 shifts + 1 holiday) = 4 x 107 = 40,000,000 monitors
MORE WAR NEWS (WRITTEN 1/8/10)
In the Milky Way, 54 planets are being planetoid per day.
The Andromeda and Triangulum galaxies are 0.50 galactic years further “progressed” in the war, as far as casualties and planetoid attacks. (1 MilkyWay galactic year is about 1.28 Earth years.)
The dense galaxy cluster to the south-east is 0.75 – 1.0 galactic years ahead of us.
2101 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Our war is ahead of much of the rest of the taurosphere:
2102 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The most popular “fursona” race on Earth is “Wolfen” (or werewolves) because an incubator planet with wolfen is nearby.
http://khaosdog.deviantart.com/art/Waiting-at-dusk118288846?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo=31
On some Hominid planets, the most popular “fursona” is that of a Chipmunk person, because Chipmunk-evolved people have an incubator planet nearby. Werewolves are cooler than were-Chipmunks.
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November 12, 2011
http://www.jonco48.com/blog/chipmunk_3.jpg
SOME MORE IMAGES OF “ALIEN” RACES The internet has few accurate renditions and photographs of “saurians”, “reptilian aliens”, “reptoids”, “lizard aliens”, and “reptiloids”. A few videos also exist. There are more images of (people formerly known as) “greys”, as well as some completely-unrelated races that look somewhat like “greys”. Videos also exist. A few images of Alotians, Frog-evolved, and Gecko/Salamander-evolved people can be found on the internet, but I have been requested not to display them because the people photographed are obviously dead at the time. 2104 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Furries” have produced copious illustrations of “animal” people though:
http://goldenwolf.deviantart.com/art/VantagePoint3798540?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo=3
http://pearleden.deviantart.com/art/Shinigami89755542?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 19
http://moonsongwolf.deviantart.com/art/Patterns76225132?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 82
http://yellow-eyes.deviantart.com/art/Windy-day79905025?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 161
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November 12, 2011
http://hibbary.deviantart.com/art/Now-you-seeme68707569?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 65 http://jeacn.deviantart.com/art/Sky60585249?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 69
http://lyanti.deviantart.com/art/Keekers87004019?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo= 184
http://qzurr.deviantart.com/art/Son-of-Africa119233645?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro&qo =208
http://darknatasha.deviantart.com/art/Motherfox-and-Kits-
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November 12, 2011 62378794?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=331
http://russellt2070.deviantart.com/art/Elk-Anthro69983670?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+elk& qo=4
http://swandog.deviantart.com/art/Celtic-Kiss6387419?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro &qo=385 http://znuese.deviantart.com/art/Cernunnos159813454?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=362
2107 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
http://art-ofsekhmet.deviantart.com/art/Sapphire147429005?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=408
http://zowolf.deviantart.com/art/June-200986375219?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=460
http://katanimate.deviantart.com/art/NeverReally-Bothers-Me147277359?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+le mur&qo=56 http://lenorekitty.deviantart.com/art/Red-RuffedLemur122247755?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+le mur&qo=78
2108 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
http://ulaa1993.deviantart.com/art/Hey-Sunny88047682?qj=2&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=573
http://bubblewolf.deviantart.com/art/Sultana151924719?qj=2&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o&qo=600
http://quadrackss.deviantart.com/art/Lemur162821533?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+le mur&qo=24
2109 | P a g e
http://nashobahostina.deviantart.com/art/Garden170848870?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=63
November 12, 2011
http://spiritwolf517.deviantart.com/art/MissingYou169620838?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=75
http://blackpassion777.deviantart.com/art/Requie m171514697?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=120
http://kairah-wolf.deviantart.com/art/Rainy-Day169061468?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=138
http://canis-ferox.deviantart.com/art/Ava169304552?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=178
http://nimrais.deviantart.com/art/Last-of-theirKind-
2110 | P a g e
http://ursulav.deviantart.com/art/Millipede-High32605651?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+lem ur&qo=25
November 12, 2011 171924324?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ma x_age%3A744h&qo=187
http://dragon-shark.deviantart.com/art/Think-andsit171241256?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o+max_age%3A744h&qo=256
http://lilangelwings014.deviantart.com/art/Dreamt ime22661721?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+wall aby&qo=24
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http://silverst.deviantart.com/art/CoolbigandyKiriban170700051?qj=1&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthr o+max_age%3A744h&qo=269
http://sumie-dh.deviantart.com/art/portret-ofanthro-horse51557605?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+hors e&qo=76
November 12, 2011
http://skrawl.deviantart.com/art/tree-cheetah66247036?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+chee tah&qo=56 http://felis-catshade.deviantart.com/art/Cheetah121276690?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ch eetah&qo=26
http://seth-desmoen.deviantart.com/art/cheetahstretch31509910?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+che etah&qo=97
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http://wolfsjal.deviantart.com/art/Sitting-Horse3496665?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+horse &qo=69
November 12, 2011
http://artsquish.deviantart.com/art/Cheetah-TaurFamily22242032?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+che etah&qo=109
http://wolfsjal.deviantart.com/art/Deer4281667?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+deer &qo=0
http://v-e-r-a.deviantart.com/art/Cheetah-Sprawl171993799?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+ch eetah&qo=118
http://idess.deviantart.com/art/Happy-Nude-Deer2009108005379?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+de er&qo=14
http://atan.deviantart.com/art/Two-Sketches-Lionand-Deer-
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November 12, 2011 http://tanidareal.deviantart.com/art/GoodMorning-my-deer6929172?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+deer &qo=33
103298174?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+de er&qo=93
http://screwbald.deviantart.com/art/The-GreatElk168227662?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+elk &qo=3 http://jeddibub.deviantart.com/art/Crouchinghorse-colour13651787?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+hors e&qo=66
http://black-wolf-.deviantart.com/art/No-horseplay20475212?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+hors e&qo=26
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http://kesame.deviantart.com/art/FBP-Rose-Quoll63995587?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+quol l&qo=0
November 12, 2011
http://silveryote.deviantart.com/art/Rose-Quoll113291044?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+qu oll&qo=1
http://zethelius.deviantart.com/art/RatchetRaccoon154013799?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+rac coon&qo=52
http://sebastiangreyfox.deviantart.com/art/WereRaccoon1850149?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+racco on&qo=72
http://rosequoll.deviantart.com/art/Raccoon-andLesser-Panda23242958?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+racc oon&qo=96
2115 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
http://shinigamigirl.deviantart.com/art/ScottishPony76998730?q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Aanthro+pon y&qo=22
A randomly deep thought Telepathy-bot (light-globe) controllers often have regions of Earth that they’re responsible for, often divided by language. Travelling to different parts of the world is refreshing, in part, because the telepathy-bot controllers assigned to you can no longer find you in their assigned area. They maintain databases that go back years. Ever feel suddenly guilty of spilling milk when you were 4?
2116 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
OMNI-WAR AN ALTERNATIVE WORLD WAR II Nazi Germany lost, in part, because World War II began as a Blitzkrieg war, and turned into a war of resource attrition. What would have happened if: 1.
Nazi Germany first bombed all the manufacturing sites in France, the UK, and Russia. Perhaps also bombing power stations, dams, and food storage.
2.
Then invaded western and eastern Europe at its leisure, since the Europeans would be incapable of supporting a war effort.
A deeply random thought Disbelief rays, “I don’t believe” rays, “I need to do something else” rays, Bitchy rays, “Something bad is happening” rays, “You’ll be laughed at” rays, “Bad dog!” rays, etc. – Telepathy-bots (aka: light globes) can induce these feelings.
HOW WE TYPICALLY THINK ABOUT WAR 1.
Espionage – To get information.
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November 12, 2011 2. Politics – Political meetings to avert (or accelerate) the war. 3.
Propaganda – Mass-communications to the enemy (and own population).
4.
Infrastructure destruction – Destroy or degrade an enemy’s infrastructure.
5.
Military battle – Combat.
6.
Negotiations – Attempts to halt the military battle.
7.
Policing – Combat troops used to prevent conflict from restarting.
8.
Reconstruction – Rebuilding after the war.
9.
Regime change – New government put in place.
A deeply random thought In the contemporary book-publishing work, authors sell their copyright to book publishers. Which means that a book publisher can get away with printing 2500 UFO books, with minimal advertising, and then sit on the content forever. Once their copyright is sold, UFO-book authors can never legally rewrite their story and get it distributed by another publisher, or give it away for free on the internet.
2118 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
OMNI-WAR Omni-war includes antagonistic conflict on more fronts:
Pre-war – Activities undertaken before a known state of war exists. o
Pre-hacking – Putting Trojans in place long before the war. What would happen if a Microsoft trojan could cause all versions of Windows to format the hard drive and stop working, when signalled over the internet?
o
Population growth – Increase a nation’s population through breeding.
o
Media control – Control the enemy’s media, as well as your own.
o
Population pogroms – Of your enemy, as well as your own people.
o
Etcetera
Legal – Begin the war in courts of law first. This was somewhat attempted by the US against Iraq via the United Nations. Why not take corporations and individuals in an enemy nation to court?
Assassination – Not commonly used by Earth’s industrialized-nations.
Hacking – Hacking into the computer and telecommunications systems of an enemy. This has only been used recently on Earth.
One-to-one talking – Get (often-pacifist) people from your side to telephone people on the enemy’s side and have one-on-one conversations.
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November 12, 2011 Races as specialized elements of the war metaorganism – Some races are better for some elements of a war.
Across several space topographies – Not just two-dimensional, threedimensional, or extra-dimensional. Also include soul-space, hyper-space, etc.
A deeply random thought The intelligence of the average dog is about 7 standard deviations (around 105 IQ points) below Homo Sapiens intelligence… but not for all tasks. Dolphins have an intelligence 5 standard deviations (around 60 IQ points) below Homo Sapiens intelligence… but not for all tasks. Homo Sapiens have brain-supported speech centers. Dogs and dolphins do not. Which means that even a very smart dolphin at the 99% dolphin-intelligence mark, with an IQ of 70, can’t understand speech as well as a Homo Sapiens with an IQ of 70. Learning through teaching is difficult without language. As a very rough rule, every year of education is worth 100 to 1000 years of experience and experimentation. For example: A dolphin with an IQ of 70 would take a long time to invent arithmetic. A Homo Sapiens with an IQ of 70 and brain-supported language skills, can be taught arithmetic in less than a year.
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November 12, 2011
COMPUTER-MODELLING WARS Contemporary Earth militaries predict the outcome of a war using extremely primitive mathematical modelling. Pan-galactic wars are much more sophisticated:
Model and simulate the causes of wars, their progress, and their outcomes in computers, in advance. Re-simulate during the wars.
Simulate the psychology of populations.
Simulate the psychology of important leaders.
Simulate resource usage and gathering.
Etcetera
In other words, it’s like Wargames (the movie), where WOPR says, “Shall we play a game?” and simulated thousands of nuclear conflicts. Combine this with an automatically played (and sometimes person-assisted) real-time strategy computergame, and lots-and-lots of research. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WarGames, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Real-time_strategy)
A randomly deep thought Glass (and glasses) changes a color’s spectrum, (kind of) blurring the color spectrum. This means that color is more intense and sharper when not seen through a window.
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November 12, 2011
MODERATED WARS Many wars are moderated by elder races, to limit the effects of the war, much as parents will prevent fighting 3-year-old children from killing one another with broomsticks:
They get younger races to encourage political discussion in an attempt to avert the war.
Elder races run “subconscious” telepathic scenarios in world-leaders minds.
Use computer models to determine how to moderate and control the war.
Since modern warfare is often “via remote control”, bot (and spaceplane) telemetry can be hacked so that participants think they did more (or less) military damage than they think.
Transportation routes are slowed down (or sped up).
Communications are slowed down (or sped up).
Communications are monitored and modified.
2122 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Some feathered Saurians are embarrassed by their “emu feet” and legs. FeatheredSaurian feet don’t look like those portrayed in Jurassic Park.
http://www.sbs.com.au/news/public/php/resize.php?file=/id/75512/w/300/h/225/si te_1_rand_270067969_emu_feet_generic_1505_b_ap.jpg
http://www.gavinrymill.com/dinosaurs/veloci/JPraptorPeople.gif
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November 12, 2011
SAURIAN WEEKENDER
A randomly deep thought If you were to time-travel back to the 1500’s, what mis-knowledge of the time would you correct? The idea that the world was flat? That the sun rotated around the Earth? How disease was contracted? Etc.
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November 12, 2011
BODY, SOULS, AND AWARENESS (PART 2) MORE COMPLICATED IMAGES OF THE SOUL
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Using bone-shaping to push your rib-cage out has the side-effect of making your stomach look trimmer.
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November 12, 2011
E-RACE SOULS (NO-ONE ADMITS TO BEING AN “ELDER” RACE)
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Nors have iPads with anti-gravity so that if you drop one on you while reading them in bed, they don’t break any bones. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ipad)
DIFFERENT RACES OF SOULS There are different races and meta-races of souls. They operate under a different “paradigm” than three-dimensional races. The concept of race is also different.
A deeply random thought Macropod-evolved grilled sweet potatoes:
Syrupy sweet potato, sliced into 2 cm thick circles – Not available on this planet. They are related to sweet potatos, but are very “sticky”, with a molasses-like, honey-like, marshmallow-like gooey substance in them.
Embedded herbs, such as rosemary and nutmeg
Put on a searing grill until the sweet potato circles are soft. 2128 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A DIFFERENT WAY TO THINK ABOUT WORK (PART 2) TIME != MONEY On an hourly wage: (Time == Money) && (Time != Money). Since hourly-wage jobs are low paying, low-wage workers have to work full time and then spend all their money on food and lodging. On a salary: Time != Money. Money is a token distributed biweekly, which means that people have the incentive to spend all their money, because they cannot forgo money to experience more personal time.
A randomly deep thought What do religions “do” after they no longer philosophize how the world was created, how the planets move in the heavens, and what happens after bodily death? Some religions then focus on predicting the future.
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November 12, 2011
SURPLUS TIME What do civilizations do once they have surplus time?
Work fewer hours... such as France.
Work full time jobs to earn more money (such as gold), which is then saved... such as China.
Spend their time paying the “invention tax”, and continually inventing new gadgets... such as the US and Japan.
Spend their time increasing their population.
Spend their time producing military equipment and inventions, so they can bully and/or invade other societies... somewhat true in the US.
Manufacture, deploy, and pilot bots so they can “crowd control” other planets.
Help other societies.
Etcetera
A deeply random thought Koala-evolved fried-green tomatoes:
Slightly-green (not yet ripe) yellow tomatoes, sliced into 7mm-thick
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November 12, 2011 circles
Thinly sliced bacon fat folded around the tomato slices
Breading with KFC-like spices, applied to the bacon-tomato wraps
Pan-fry in a light oil until golden brown.
HOW TO MOON A PLANET
Also known as: Ramming a small moon into a planet.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The Great Hominid Empire has hostage planets with non-standard physics “pressurizations” so that:
The bodies of rescued hostages tend to die when they’re whisked rapidly away by rescuing spaceplanes… who are fleeing from weapons satellites and other planetary defenses.
The souls of rescued hostages tend to “fall apart” when they’re whisked rapidly away, also.
Toxins are introduced into the prisoners’ bodies and souls so that their souls won’t attach/stick properly to new bodies.
BODY, SOULS, AND AWARENESS (PART 3) SOUL TRANSPLANTING TECHNOLOGY High-tech people (from other planets) can move souls from one body to another. The basic process involved: 1.
Use chemicals to weaken the “cilia” connections between the “base” (or “foot”) of the soul and the central nervous-system.
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November 12, 2011 2. Slowly detach the soul from the central nervous-system using special extradimensional equipment. 3.
Attach the person’s soul into another body, using special equipment and chemicals. The following types of bodies can be attached to:
A live body WITH an existing attached soul. Usually, a friend or relative volunteers to accept someone’s soul and awareness. The person’s soul is attached. The two souls eventually merge, or one of the souls withers away. The two awarenesses eventually merge.
A live body currently WITHOUT an attached soul. This doesn’t happen very often. If it does occur, it’s usually because someone just transferred their soul out of the body.
A recently-dead body can be revived and have a soul attached. If properly refrigerated with sufficient technology, bodies can be revived after several days.
The person’s soul can be attached to an animal body. This sometimes involves the animal’s much-smaller soul first being detached, and then “grafted” (see below) onto the person’s moredominant soul. Animal bodies are often used as temporary bodies of no “people” bodies are available. The person’s soul can be detached from the animal after weeks, months, or years, and attached into a “person’s” body when one becomes available.
Soul-transference is best-done in a high-tech medical facility.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought What is the weight of a soul? 21 grams. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duncan_MacDougall_(doctor) )
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November 12, 2011
KILLING A SOUL WITH HIGH-TECH WEAPONRY
Weapons can be used to damage/kill someone’s soul:
Kill-bots, venom-bots, neutron bombs, efficient nukes, and thermonuclear devices can damage someone’s lower soul, while leaving their upper-soul mostly intact. The effects are memory loss, some personality change, and the person finding difficult to think.
Bots and bombs can likewise be used to cut/tear the connection between the soul’s base (or foot) and the soul. Their soul floats off. If not rescued and reattached in time, the person’s body will die.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Gravity is everywhere. Gravity is a carrier and/or symptom of physics “pressurization”, which affects the laws of physics. Because we are in a gravity well, we misunderstand many of the laws of physics, such as the speed of light.
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November 12, 2011
KILLING A SOUL GRADUALLY
Souls can be damaged (or killed off) gradually: 1.
Using kill/venom-bots or small neutron bomblets, the person’s brain is damaged off from front to back. At the same time, the person’s spinal column is damaged from bottom to top. The damaged brain and spinal column still function, but at markedly reduced efficiency.
2.
Parts of the person’s base (or foot) cannot attach properly to the damaged central-nervous-system, so portions of their base/foot weaken and die off at the top and bottom. This results in a much smaller base (or foot).
3.
If a person’s base/foot shrinks too small, their soul cannot get enough nutrients. It withers away. This leads to the person’s soul thinning out (as per the image in the previous section, “Killing a soul with high-tech weaponry”).
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November 12, 2011 With a diminished base/foot, high-tech implants can be implanted, and someone else can manually run the person’s body, despite their attempts to control their own body. Eyelids and eye-movement are more-easily controlled when the top of a soul’s base is missing. Combine this with implant “eyeballs”, and a controller can cause the person to look around the room. Killing off someone’s lower-base helps the controller override leg control. Arm and hand control are more difficult to override, but can still be overridden. 4.
A small base/foot doesn’t have a firm grip on the body’s central nervoussystem. Chemicals can be administered through a venom-bot that weaken or kill off the base’s cilia, and cause the soul to float away.
Malnutrition and starvation also damage a person’s central-nervous-system, base, and soul.
A randomly deep thought Some Lemur-evolved races grudgingly admit to a “slapstick-comedy” gene. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slapstick_comedy)
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November 12, 2011
SOUL TRANSFERENCE If someone’s body dies, their soul can be detached from their dead body, and attached to the body of an adult. If the adult body already has a soul attached, both souls will control the same body, like a car with two steering wheels. The souls will gradually merge together, or one of the souls will die off. Awarenesses eventually merge. If someone’s soul-base/foot is weakened (as above), and then falls off or is torn off, attaching the base to a (new) body is difficult because the soul’s base/foot doesn’t have enough “grip”. Grip can be further impaired with chemicals that make the soul (and/or body) slippery. One high-tech approach to a weakened base/foot is to “amputate” the weakened base, and graft the soul onto someone else’s soul, such as an adult, toddler, or animal. (See “Soul transference with an amputated base/foot”.)
A deeply random thought To: Mr. Rozak, From: An avid body sledder Regarding your extreme lynx/bobcat sledding image. Tensioned neoprene claw-grips work much better than blue-plastic wristbands.
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November 12, 2011
SOUL TRANSFERENCE WITH AN AMPUTATED BASE /FOOT Souls can be missing their base/foot, either because of an attack or intentional “amputation”. High-tech methods can “graft” a soul (missing a base/foot) onto an existing soul:
Adults can accept another person’s soul and awareness. As described in “Accepting new awarenesses”, their souls are merged together, followed by their awarenesses.
A toddler can have a soul grafted on. The very-weak soul attached to the toddler is subsumed by the more-dominant graft. Awarenesses are merged.
A friendly medium-sized animal, often a pet, can have someone’s soul grafted to theirs. The larger person’s soul ultimately dominates, though personalities and awarenesses are still merged. The person (and combined animal awareness) can live as an augmented animal. Or, the person’s soul (and combined awarenesses) can be detached from the animal’s body and attached to a “person’s” body, when one becomes available. The animal body then dies, unless another soul with a healthy base/foot can be attached to it. If an animal body is permanent, bone-morphing can extend the animalbody’s braincase, and their brain can be augmented. Paws can be bonemorphed to produce very-low-dexterity fingers. See “Un-races”.
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November 12, 2011
SOUL TRANSFERENCE DURING TIMES OF WAR During times of war, people’s bodies die, souls’ bases/feet are damaged, and a lot of soul transference takes place. The battlefield produces many dead bodies, with destroyed brains, backbones, and hearts. Recently-dead bodies can be “sewn together” Frankenstein-like, replacing damaged vital organs, so that the bodied can be “reinvigorated”, and people’s souls can be attached. Many of the bodies also have amputated limbs; new limbs are grafted on with a lower-priority, usually after the war. Someone whose body dies during war has the option of:
Having their soul transferred to the body of a friend or relative, or perhaps the toddler of a friend/relative.
Having their soul transferred to a “reinvigorated” and/or “pre-owned” body from the battlefield... those damn used-car-salespeople double-speak terms. Bodies with amputations and limb-replacements are bargainbasement-priced.
Having their soul attached to an animal, and then having the animal’s body augmented.
Replacement-body priority goes to the military so they can fight the war: 1.
The military gets first priority on battle-hardened (augmented) bodies.
2.
They have priority for “reinvigorated” bodies from their original race.
3.
And then priority for “reinvigorated” bodies from a similar race.
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November 12, 2011 4. Usually, erect-standing and thick-tailed bodies are prioritized to the military since military equipment often required two legs and manual dexterity.
As a general rule:
Four-legged bodies are seen as “primitive” and undesirable to some races/cultures.
Augmented animal bodies are less desirable because: o
Animal bodies are (often) inherently seen as “primitive”.
o
Animal bodies don’t have built-in speech centres, requiring augmentation and/or implants.
o
Animal bodies don’t usually have the necessary finger dexterity to manipulate objects and/or type.
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November 12, 2011 o The brains of animal bodies can’t think as well. Animal-body brains can be augmented over time. However, people who are used to thinking only with their brains get extremely confused when their souls are first transferred to animal bodies. They may be incoherent for weeks or months. o
The smaller brains of animal bodies requires enlargement of the person’s brain, or their soul will eventually wither.
o
People with animal bodies find it difficult to drive cars, go shopping, and have non-animal children.
o
Animal bodies are “difficult to drive” emotionally, with strong urges to eat, sleep, run, hunt, and chase busses. It’s like driving a stick-shift car versus the ease of an automatic transmission.
o
Animal bodies don’t live as long.
o
In some societies, animal bodies are used as punishments, so they bear an associated stigma.
Consequently, wartime non-military casualties often end up in augment animal bodies. Due to high demand of soul-transference specialists, people are kindly asked to postpone dying until after the end of the war.
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November 12, 2011
THINKING WITHOUT A BRAIN People who have grown up with good brains get used to thinking with their brains, and rely heavily on them. When their brain is damaged, people take several weeks to months to retrain themselves to think with their soul. It’s like growing up with legs; when a person’s leg is suddenly amputated, they find it difficult to walk (or run). People can learn how to think without (much of) a brain through special training, or by being thrown into the “deep end”. I won’t discuss the special training here. Thinking without (much of) a brain employs different thought processes: One example of non-brain thinking is “Gaussian thinking”. A person’s soul collects lot of facts, storing them away as a “scatter-graph” of fact “data-points”. The facts aren’t evaluated as true or false at the time they’re learned. No conclusions are reached until the person asks themselves a “question”. Upon asking the question, the data-points are clustered into Gaussians... kind of. The most-prominent Gaussian determines the answer to the “question”. Gaussian-thinking must also take into account mutually-exclusive conclusions – An object cannot be both black and white at the same time... or so they say.
A randomly deep thought Many planets are intelligent and self-aware; their built-in planetary defenses include enormous “crystals”.
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November 12, 2011
BICYCLES (PART 4) RAT-EVOLVED BICYCLE
As illustrated by an Otaku-Rat child.
A deeply random thought Macropods do not often vocalize while speaking, limiting their phoneme set to mostly unvoiced phonemes – no “a”, “e”, “I”, “o”, “u”, “m”, “n”, “r”, etc. To counteract a reduced phoneme set, Macropod languages rely on more unvoiced tongue-generated sounds, most of which are unused by Hominid languages. Tempo is a critical phoneme differentiator, much as the word “too” and “to” are differentiated by duration.
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November 12, 2011 Macropod tempo poetry is a form of poetry where rhyme is secondary to the tempo of the words, as well as the tempo of the phonemes in the words.
EXTRADIMENSIONAL FLYING BICYCLES
A randomly deep thought The “bell is ringing” when you not only have no idea who and when you are, but you have no idea what laws of physics you’re operating under… and are in fact experiencing several “laws of physics” sets at the same time.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 23/8/2010) OOPS
Approximately 400b Hominids live in the Milky Way, not 20b. o
This highly-inaccurate number was published here due to intentional numbers misinformation and the fact that many hominid planets were hidden. Consequently, 40b - 60b Hominids live in the Orion Spur, all several-hours spaceflight from Earth, depending on the traffic.
o
Many Hominid planets were hidden behind “walls” of other planets. Their telecommunications were hidden using their planetary defences, and the planetary defences of the surrounding “wall” planets.
o
Most Hominids in the Milky Way are recent immigrants from The Great Hominid Empire, either the metaorganism capsules or The Machine.
o
Most Hominids have been disclosed to. Around 10b-20b technological Hominids in the Orion spur have NOT been disclosed to.
o
The death-rates for non-Hominids, per indigenous Hominid and per invading Hominid, are more like 100x – 800x.
Unlike what said I before, most Hominids are not starving. Food production is difficult though, since they rely on spaceplane transportation of oil (fuel
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November 12, 2011 for farming equipment), spare parts (for farming equipment), and food (from farming planets to city planets, or from continent to continent). They don’t have any horses or oxen to pull ploughs and carts either – In general, they have no large mammals left on their planets, period.
Some Hominid planets have recently experienced a dozen 1-gigaton bombs after their Hominids have introduced planetoids/moons into nonHominid planets. Planetoids/moons destroy planets for millions of years, while gigaton bombs do so for only thousands. Many non-Hominids plan for the future. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsar_Bomba)
A deeply random thought One type of deneuralizer works by emitting quaternion EMR (electromagnetic radiation) that confuses people’s souls, and interferes with the connection of their souls to their bodies. The EMR waves also causes electret microphones to record an annoying hum/buzz. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaternion , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_radiation, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electret_microphone) See this video for an image of a deneuralizer, held by the person in the back:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU
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November 12, 2011
ON EARTH 40k-80k off-planet Hominids are being monitored by non-Hominids (aka: “aliens”). There may be 40m-80m “Let’s move to Earth” refugees. The Great Hominid Empire is an empire of thousands (to hundreds of thousands) of small empires, many of which are antagonistic towards one-another. They don’t even know/admit they’re part of an empire. The off-planet Hominids (on Earth) being watched by non-Hominids are from many different empires. The off-planet Hominids are “Top secret” to their brother Empires. In the likely-event that they run into one another in Washington DC, military bases, military-industrial-complex corporations, or at UFO conferences, all they know is, “Those people are from another empire. We don’t really know which one. They won’t tell us who they work for. We won’t tell them who we work for either.”
A deeply random thought Are you the same personality you were when you were a teenager?
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November 12, 2011
SPACE HIGHWAYS AND LOW-WAYS Part of the reason Earth is valuable, is because it is at the centre of the Orion spur. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orion_spur) The Orion spur exists because a large mass is at the centre of it (kind of)... not far from Earth. Earth is near the bottom of a gravity well caused by the extradimensionally-offset mass. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravity_well) Some spaceplanes move quickly between equally-deep levels of gravity wells. Other spaceplanes move quickly up and down gravity wells. Conceptually, Earth is at a prime location, near a freeway intersection. It would be a great location for a shopping mall. Hominids also occupy planets at the edge of the Orion Spur, just within the local gravity well. Again, some spaceplanes like to travel between similar depths, hopping from gravity-well edge to gravity-well edge.
A randomly deep thought Some high-tech societies can synthesize and manufacture replacement bodies.
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November 12, 2011
NEVER BUILD AN EMPIRE LIKE A WOODEN PUZZLE-CUBE
Never build an empire like a Gordian knot. Never build an empire like a wooden puzzle-cube, which can only be pulled apart all at once, instead of one piece at a time. Such empires tend to self-destruct, instead of fade away peacefully.
A deeply random thought Oil is an important transportation energy-source for many disclosed societies.
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO GENOCIDE A RACE
Bombs and bullets during war, tsunamis, earthquakes, tornadoes, forestfires, planetary gassings, planetoids, moons, toxic permeating rain, etc.
Concentration camps, as per the Nazis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Concentration_camp#Concentration_camps)
Plagues such as those experienced by Medieval Europe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_death)
Imperceptible pogroms of the leadership and intelligentsia.
Imperceptible de-evolution of a race by fertilization bots that implant lessintelligent embryos. Other less-technological approaches also work.
Using bots to make all/most members of the race infertile. Food additives also work.
Killing off all of the race’s males (or females). With no “Y”-chromosomes remaining in the population, the race must scramble to incorporate “Y”chromosomes from genetically-diverse animal-ancestors, potentially causing de-evolution. During war, “pre-owned” male bodies are particularly rare, so men often need to opt for temporary “augmented animal bodies”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Y_chromosome)
Preventing the race from congregating… Blowing up their home-world is a traditional approach.
Contaminating or interrupting women’s breast milk with venom-bots, while at the same time contaminating or stopping synthetic milk supplies.
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November 12, 2011 Malnutrition and starvation due to lower farming yields and the inability to transport food, caused by de-civilization.
Analogous approaches can be used to genocide races of souls.
A randomly deep thought A neutron bomb the size of gobstoppers can be used to power a house for years. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gobstopper)
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November 12, 2011
BICYCLES (PART 5) GREY DRIVING PORSCHE MAZDA-MIATA
A deeply random thought “Tyrs” are actually evolved from allosaurus, but they don’t feel that the name, “Allos” sounds cool enough. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allosaurus)
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November 12, 2011
LET’S TRY SOME BRAINS! (PART 1) ALLOSAURUS (ANIMAL)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allosaurus
I consider and plan before I act.
I like to understand why someone (or some prey) does what it does, so I can better predict them.
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November 12, 2011 I think of situations as adventure-game-like puzzles, and try to “solve them”.
A randomly deep thought Cheetah-evolved people like to stand on tables… something about overlooking the plains, watching the springbok. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Springbok) Cheetah Karaoke – Let a Cheetah stand on a table, give them a microphone, and they will karaoke. Luckily, Cheetahs realize they cannot sing, so they mostly augment the rhythm section of Hominid Karaoke favorites like “You light up my life” and “Stop in the name of love”. As a bonus, when they’re too drunk to sing, they fall off the table. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/You_Light_Up_My_Life_(song), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop!_in_the_Name_of_Love )
CHEETAH (ANIMAL)
I only act when I have a goal (such as food) or to watch my children. My spare time is spent watching and intuitively-learning the behavior of my prey.
I position myself near my prey, where I can hear them. If I want to watch them, I will find someplace high to sit on.
Bird calls and motions are interesting because they identify where my prey is located, and how it is moving.
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November 12, 2011 I remember landmarks and plants in my territory. I don’t reinvestigate the landmarks and plants once I have memorized them.
I have no urge to leave my territory.
I worry about my children being around, but once they have gone missing for a few days, they are forgotten.
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November 12, 2011
EUDIMORPHODON-PRIMITIVE
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudimorphodon
I am interested in cause and effect. If I hear a sound, I wonder what caused it? What caused the cause? What are the effects of the sound? What are the effects of the effect?
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November 12, 2011 I am interested in real-world objects. Symbols on a computer screen and stories, being contrived, are less interesting.
People are interesting more as cause-and-effect than for unique personalities and “selves”. As generators of cause-and-effect, people are often too difficult to understand.
I hunt small animals because they are more-easily predicted by cause-andeffect.
I don’t investigate until I have question I wish to find the answer to.
I teach my children by introducing them to simple (and often contrived) cause-and-effect situations that I build.
A deeply random thought Mental brick walls – Most people build a brick wall of concepts. The lowest bricks in their wall are fundamental rules/lemmas like, “All things fall to the ground,” “The sky is blue,” “The ground never moves,” and “Non-gaseous matter is always visible.” Above the fundamental rule-bricks are less-weighty observations and conclusions like, “Shopping malls always have shoe stores,” “Automobiles have steering wheels in the front,” and “Jet airplanes are very noisy.” Above the less-weighty-observation bricks are habits, like “Get a haircut once every two months,” “Make sure spring-clean your house,” and “You should watch television every night.” At the very top are things like a list of “Chores I want to do today.” 2159 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Brick-wall thinking – When someone’s fundamental rules are changed, such as a realization that “The ground DOES move” after they experience a major earthquake, this leaves a gap in their “brick wall” that causes them to mistrust all observations, conclusions, and habits above them. After an Earthquake, people suddenly question whether their “shopping mall will really have a shoe store” and whether “they should watch television that night”. Some people require weeks to months to re-evaluate and re-position their mental “bricks”, during which time they are often incoherent, and illogical, and in denial. Brick walls with spacers – Other people put metaphorical poly-spacers between their mental “bricks” so that when a fundamental brick is proven invalid, such as “Non-gaseous matter is always visible”, they rapidly adjust and avoid becoming incoherent, illogical, and denying reality. People with metaphorical poly-spacers are “twitchy” and “expect the really weird to happen”… and they like sciencefiction and fantasy.
FOSSA, LARGE GROUND (ANIMAL) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fossa_(animal)
I pre-plan actions before I act, imagining what I should first do, and then following the plan. I don’t like acting without pre-planning.
I wish to stay in my home/lair most of the time, and do not wish to venture outside often. Intruding into other people’s homes causes me tension.
Sudden sounds are frightening. The dark is frightening.
I get depressed easily.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought People that operate medical bots, as well as some medical bots, appreciate “Thank You’s”.
HOMINID, ASPERGERS SYNDROME
How do you know what clothes are fashionable? Most people just know. Someone with Aspergers Syndrome must carefully examine the clothes that “fashionable” people wear, noting the number of buttons, how large the buttons are, what kind of collar is used, what stitching is used, etc. From that information, they need to formulate a pattern and determine what is fashionable.
How do you know if someone is upset at you? Someone with Aspergers Syndrome doesn’t usually know. They can identify a mouth smile, and maybe a mouth frown. They can’t identify an eye-smile. Very little is automatic.
What are other people thinking? When someone with Aspergers is young, this concept is foreign. As they get older, they create mental models of template personalities based on careful observation and think to themselves, “If I were a jock, how would I respond to this stimuli?”
Stories (science fiction and fantasy) are incredibly absorbing, particularly factoids in the stories that don’t involve characterization and personality. Aspergers people have a strong “suspension of disbelief”. 2161 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Female-with-female egg fertilization is possible, usually producing females.
HORSE-EVOLVED
People are interesting in themselves. I empathize with them and care for their issues. Questions like, “How are you doing?” and “How do you feel?” are part of conversations… and I actually care about the answers.
I have enormous patience when dealing with people. This is partly due to a high Dunbar’s Number, and not leaving members of the troop behind to be eaten by predators. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunbar%27s_number)
I worry about how people are doing when I’m not with them.
Stress, particularly stress from danger, is overwhelming. Driving at speeds is scary and stressful.
Stories are interesting as a way to interact with people, but they are not interesting in themselves.
Objects are uninteresting.
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November 12, 2011
JACKAL-EVOLVED
I am impulsive and quick to act.
I want to grab and touch things.
LIGER (LION-TIGER EVOLUTIONARY BRANCH) (ANIMAL)
I predict the outcomes of actions, weighed by probabilities. Decisions are often based on a cost, benefit, probability analysis.
When I’m not acting, I spend some time observing. Mostly, I problem-solve issues that I have encountered using “fist principles”.
Trust relationships are very important.
Only a few individuals will ever be trusted. “Trust level” is usually “on”, “off”, or “completely off”, not a scalar.
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November 12, 2011
RACCOON-PRIMITIVE
I like investigating, such as looking under rocks. Discovering what lies underneath the rock isn’t very important. I don’t remember what I have already investigated, so re-investigating the same area a few days later is just as interesting to me.
I don’t like being outside at night because it’s dangerous, particularly the giant dingoes and anacondas.
I am motivated by food.
I don’t like to be indoors.
Things are uninteresting. People are somewhat interesting. Doing is interesting.
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November 12, 2011
SIBERIAN HUSKY, OR MALAMUTE (ANIMAL, SEMI-WILD)
I am part of a pack… sometimes. The pack is usually separated, but I have a general idea where members of the pack are.
I anticipate what pack members (and people) will do based on a unified model. I cannot easily model individual personalities differently.
I am not interested in investigating or remembering my territory. My territory is more tied to my dispersed pack’s location, than a piece of land.
I am afraid of the dark.
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November 12, 2011
VELOCIRAPTOR (ANIMAL)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor
My senses quickly determine the locations of people/animals, using vision, sounds, and odor.
My brain contains many small “simulators” that latch onto stimuli originated from nearby people/animals. When a “simulator” properly latches on, it automatically (but simplistically) predicts what the person/animal will do. Several simulators can be “latched on” to a person/animal at a time, automatically de-latching to a single simulator when the person/animal behaves unexpectedly… according to the simulator.
I am always wary/worried about large predators, and looking for small prey. Bird sounds and movements indicate predators.
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November 12, 2011 By the way, my wings, feathers, and arched-toe are for side-to-side maneuverability, helping me dodge predators and follow small prey.
I have a wide-ranging territory, perhaps no territory at all.
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November 12, 2011
VELOCIRAPTOR-EVOLVED
Adapted from: http://www.godlikeproductions.com/sm/custom/gjdnctfh.jpeg
Incompetent people should work in incompetent jobs. And vice versa.
I am quick to anger when someone isn’t performing as competently as they should.
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November 12, 2011 In some individuals, my brain is segmented into different sections, each used for specific circumstances. Each section comes with different personalities and different approaches to thinking.
I appreciate a few close relationships, around whom I can relax.
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November 12, 2011
ZEEN
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tasmanian_tiger
I have the urge to look at (and smell) things. Children obsessed with looking into their schoolmates’ desks are called “nose lickers”, somewhat related to “Otaku” and “Geeks”.
New objects, places, odors, and sounds warrant investigation.
Without planning, I have the urge to take long walks that have no particular destination. Returning home in time for dinner (or bed, or breakfast) is not a consideration.
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November 12, 2011
I cannot easily empathize with people. I do model them, similar to Aspergers Syndrome Hominids.
If I am frightened, I will freeze to not be noticed. If I am approached while frozen, I will run. If I cannot run, I will bluff. If I cannot bluff I will fight.
A deeply random thought The Cheetah Wall – Every top-floor business executive has one wall in their office with Cheetah-skin-patterned wallpaper. If they want to make a directreport (visually) disappear, they stand them in front of the wall while talking to them. That way, the executive doesn’t actually see/perceive her direct report.
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November 12, 2011
FASHION (PART 1) MOUSE FASHION
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November 12, 2011
FURTHER READING You can continue reading these articles on: http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory2.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory3.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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November 12, 2011
PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY 2
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 1 September 2010 Draft 2, 6 September 2010 Draft 3, 12 September 2010 Draft 4, 15 September 2010 Draft 5, 23 September 2010 Draft 6, 27 September 2010 Draft 7, 2 October 2010 Draft 8, 14 October 2010 Draft 9, 21 October 2010 Draft 10, 2 November 2010 Draft 11, 13 November 2010 Draft 12, 23 November 2010 Draft 13, 2 December 2010 Draft 14, 9 December 2010 Draft 15, 14 December 2010 Draft 16, 20 December 2010 Draft 17, 26 December 2010 Draft 18, 3 February 2011 Draft 19, 2 March 2011 Draft 20, 19 March 2011
Draft 21, 8 April 2011 Draft 22, 16 April 2011 Draft 23, 18 April 2011 Draft 24, 28 April 2011 Draft 25, 5 May 2011 Draft 26, 22 May 2011 Draft 27, 26 May 2011 Draft 28, 30 May 2011 Draft 29, 5 June 2011 Draft 30, 9 June 2011 Draft 31, 14 June 2011 Draft 32, 19 June 2011 Draft 33, 30 June 2011 Draft 34, 10 July 2011 Draft 35, 15 July 2011
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my articles: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf 2174 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/TheReallyWierdStuff.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheNarrative.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
Never-ever prevent a contactee from getting off the planet; they will pervert the course of history.
A deeply random thought Hiring keepers and breeders for garden/animal planets. Poor $$$. “All you can eat” buffet. Toilet facilities are lacking. Better pay options (and cheaper food) exist if your 2175 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 soul is tranferred into a large four-legged augmentedanimal. Transferred people enjoy reduced healthinsurance premiums since they are less-likely to be injured by large angry animals, or stepped on by other large four-legged keepers.
CHILDREN’S TOYS (PART 1) HUSKY-CHILD RUNNER
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November 12, 2011
EDIBLE CARD GAME (MACROPOD-EVOLVED)
Including “eating the cards” as part of the card game.
A randomly deep thought Now that crossing the border into Canada and Mexico requiers a passport (due to 9/11 security concerns), how many US citizens can actually leave the US? How onerous is the passport application process? What happens if you can’t find your birth certificate?
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November 12, 2011
WHY FARMS SHOULD BE SUBSIDIZED (WRITTEN 1/9/2010) HOME CONSTRUCTION AN D WAR Causality sequence: 1.
The Great Hominid Empire encourages migration to the Milky Way (and surrounding clusters).
2.
The Hominid population grows 5-10% annually for the last decade.
3.
The population growth rate is top secret, since population growth is used as a way to invade and take over the Milky Way.
4.
House prices on Hominid planets soar.
5.
Food prices on Hominid planets soar as food production can’t be met... partially because no one releases statistics on current and expected-future population growth... because the statistics are of military importance and are top secret.
6.
Primary meat sources for Hominids are cattle and herbivorous dinosaurs, because they are the most cost-efficient per kilogram of meat. Herbivorous dinosaurs taste like a cross between chicken and pork. Therefore, few chickens (or turkeys) are raised.
7.
Cattle and herbivorous dinosaurs take 3 – 5 years to reach optimum eating size, as well as breeding maturity. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cattle)
8.
The price of cattle and herbivorous dinosaurs soar so high that farmers “sell down”, cutting into their core breeding stock... which means their ability to produce meat 3 – 5 years from now is less than their ability to
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November 12, 2011 produce meat now... despite a 20% expected rise in population over that time... which is kept top secret. 9.
The price of cattle/dinosaur-farms rise. Speculators purchase the farms.
10. The price of cattle/dinosaur farms rise because of speculators. To make their farms cheaper, farmers first sell off most of their heard, and then sell the farm with the remaining heard to the speculators. 11. Speculators can’t farm. Production goes down, on top of the reduced production from the “sell down”, on top of an increasing Hominid population. 12. Therefore, there isn’t enough meat for the existing population, let alone the growing population. 13. Cattle and herbivorous dinosaurs eat grass, but are supplemented with rough grains and/or corn. 14. Rough grains and/or corn are now plentiful, since they are no longer being eaten as supplementary food for cattle and dinosaurs. 15. Rough grains, formerly used for cattle and dinosaurs, are sold as mueslilike bars to Hominids who can no-longer purchase meat. 16. Corn is canned as “Creamed corn”, except there is no cream because there are no cattle/dinosaurs to make cream. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Creamed_corn) Canned corn has little nutritional value, and is a laxative when eaten in large quantities. 17. The few chicken farmers out there are going to get filthy rich. Unfortunately, Chicken farms require large sheds, which have to be built.
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November 12, 2011 18. Chickpea farmers also have bright futures... but they need special attachments to their farming machinery to ramp up production, as well as more fields. 19. And fishermen. 20. Most farms are located on farming planets, away from the city planets. Or, they’re located on the same planet, but not connected by road or rail. Food is flown by spaceplanes. Spaceplanes are shot down in times of war. 21. Chickens cannot eat grass. Food for chickens is flown by spaceplanes also. 22. Farm-equipment fuel (such as petroleum or diesel) is flown by spaceplanes from other planets. 23. Spare parts are flown by spaceplanes. One missing spare-part and a farmer’s combine won’t work. 24. Food-quality and quantity are first cut back in the colonies, where there are no reporters. Luckily, many colonists can go fishing. 25. A lure is lost for every ten fish caught. Ten meters of fishing line is lost per lure. One fishing pole lasts 100 – 500 fish. 26. The colonists hunt “monkey meat” (aka: “primitive” animal people), upsetting non-Hominid races. (“Primitive” aquatic people are intentionally netted while fishing, likewise upsetting non-Hominid races.) 27. A helicopter ride to shoot “monkey meat” uses 400 litres of fuel, and 1000 bullets, to net 80 kg of muscle meat. 28. Oh yes, did I mention that fuel and bullets are flown in by spaceplane from other planets? As well as spare-parts for helicopters?
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November 12, 2011 29. Off-road vehicles are more fuel efficient, but without any roads, they are tire inefficient. 30. Off-planet Hominids, upset by “monkey meat” slaughters and cannibalism, as well as the fact that settler Hominids have invaded planets of their “younger races” over the last few hundred years, and genocided their younger races, and crowd-controlled their own planets... provide their younger “primitive” races with guns and missile launchers, shoot down spaceplanes carrying weapons and fuel supplies to settlers, and blow up fuel-storage tanks on settler planets. 31. Fuel-storage tanks must be flown in from other planets. 32. Off-planet Hominids get upset, and use spaceplanes to hand-deliver detonating efficient-nukes to non-Hominid cities. 33. Non-Hominids get more upset and blow up every Hominid spaceplane they see, as well as many Hominid cities. 34. Meanwhile, the Hominid city-planets start feeling the food pinch. 35. The city-planets hire the settler Hominids to collect even more “monkey meat”... causing more conflict. 36. Meanwhile, an army from The Great Hominid Empire arrives in their death-spheres for a multi-year once-a-decade genocide of the nonHominids. This might result in 30 billion military personnel arriving per year. 37. The army assumes it can get enough food from the local Hominids. 38. Which it can’t. Well, it can... The arriving army requisitions all the localHominids’ remaining food.
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November 12, 2011 39. Once well fed, the army (from the main Hominid Empire metaorganism capsules) uses its death-spheres to attack non-Hominid planets, with moons, planetoids, asteroids, and finally, the burnt-out cores from the death-spheres. 40. This further inflames the war. 41. Oh yes, the death-spheres bring in and deposit many army soldiers onto the planets. They require food. They also fly off in small spaceplanes and collect “monkey meat”, as well as go “chipmunk shooting” – killing nonHominids “primitives” for sport and practice. 42. This inflames the war further. 43. Newly arriving death-spheres visit the Hominid planets and are told, “We don’t have enough food. Go get some from our neighbours.” 44. The military, being what it is, drives their death-spheres to the Alotians, Simian-races, and Nor (all granivores and carnivores), and tries to purchase food. “No way, we need our food!” they answer. The army return later and “requisitions” the food... further inflaming the war, as well as creating new enemies. 45. Meanwhile, more death-spheres are arriving. These may contain emergency food shipments, carried across hundreds of galaxies.
A deeply random thought The Whopper Index – Alotians don’t like Big Macs. They do, however, have a Whopper equivalent, with higher-quality beef and bun, but similar-quality cheese. 2182 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 For those Earth-based economists who emply The Big Mac Index: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_mac_index)
A higher-quality Alotian Whopper costs A6.50. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whopper)
The median income for an Alotian couple is A80,000. Alotians work 20% fewer hours than people in the US.
You do the math.
FOOD 1.
Since the Hominids use their spaceplanes to nuke non-Hominids, the nonHominids seek to prevent Hominids from piloting spaceplanes. After the war, Hominids will be allowed to travel, but only on spaceplanes piloted by “known safe” non-Hominids.
2.
Which simplistically means that non-Hominids will deliver food, fuel, and spare parts to Hominid planets after the war.
3.
Hominid planets are surrounded by thousands of military satellites that can shoot spaceplanes down. Every planet is surrounded by satellites from several (sometimes ten) Hominid mini-Empires. Any one of the miniEmpires can shoot a spaceplane down and “veto” the food delivery.
4.
Nearer towards the ground, Hominid individuals have rocket-propelled grenades. Any one of a thousand of Hominids on the planet has veto power over a spaceplane landing.
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November 12, 2011 5. Once on the ground, most Hominids have pistols and rifles. Any of them can shoot the pilot. 6.
Many Hominids posses small (1 ton – 1 kiloton) nukes. They can veto the food delivery also.
7.
Any organized-crime group with guns can accept the food delivery, and decide to keep it for themselves.
8.
Non-Hominid planets will eventually run low on food. Who gets priority for food? Your own citizens, or your enemy?
9.
An armada of 1000 spaceplanes could break through a satellite cordon, but will anyone in a non-Hominid government want to risk so many pilots’ lives and spaceplanes for the enemy?
10. Satellites can be cleared with effort. However, as soon as they’re cleared, a Hominid ship can appear and dump more satellites into orbit. 11. Simplistically, non-Hominids won’t be able to deliver food to Hominid planets until long after the battlefront has left the area. 12. Meanwhile, the war is expected to last at least a few years. Non-Hominids may not be willing to risk many ships on food-delivery to Hominids until after the war. 13. There will be a gap in time between when Hominids can safely deliver food to Hominid planets, and when non-Hominids can safely deliver food. This may be many months to years. 14. During this time, the planet-bound Hominids will need to live off stored food, as well as produce their own food, from fishing (with only ten lures stockpiled), hunting unintelligent animals (with no bullets and/or vehicles left), and growing grains. 2184 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 15. Horses and oxen are particularly useful for growing grains when petrol supplies run out. Unfortunately, horses and oxen don’t exist on most Hominid farming planets anymore.
A randomly deep thought Earth Sol is considering a career change. She may decide return to her old job of being a garden/animal planet in 1000 – 2000 years. If this happens, Homo Sapiens will be relocated to other planets looking for new job opportunties themselves.
EDUCATION Imagine, if you will: 1.
Computer-based education is used to supplement teacher-taught education.
2.
Instead of 6 courses per day in front of a teacher, students spend 4 courses per day in front of a teacher, and 2 “study hall” courses in front of computers. They receive study-hall assistance from TA’s and other students.
3.
Due to changes in the economy, parents only have to work 4 – 6 hours a day at their jobs, instead of 8 – 10 hours a day.
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November 12, 2011 4. Instead of students spending two courses in a school “study hall”, they head home early and do the computer-based courses from their homes… with the help of their parents who are no longer working 8 – 10 hours a day… which improves family socialization and relationships. 5.
If this works well, coursework is increasingly computer based. Schools still exist, but are used more for socialization. (See The Australian School of the Air, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/School_of_the_Air)
A deeply random thought The Nacotchtank didn’t appreciate their land being requisitioned by the US government to create Washington DC. Washington DC was a “treaty city”, built between the North and the South to minimize political squabbles. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nacotchtank) As a general rule, Native Americans would have been better off if the North and South had squabbled a bit more.
OPEN-SOURCE METAORGANISM BRAIN SOFTWARE The Great Hominid Empire uses a comprehensive software package to run its empire. Part of the software is an “expert system” used to decide how to respond to important choices. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expert_system) One advantage of the expert system is that if your manager is out on holiday, uncontactable, or just plain blown up, you can consult the expert system for the answer… which is all your manager really does anyway… 2186 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Computer: “Do you want to (1) order some supplies, (2) hire some new staff, or (3) invade a planet?” User: 3 Computer: “Does the planet have (1) spaceplanes, (2) digital watches but no spaceplanes, (3) automobiles but no digital watches, (4) wheeled carts but no automobiles, or (5) no transportation vehicles at all?” User: 4 … Computer: “After asking you 1,453 questions, we recommend that you invade using 23 100-kiloton efficient nukes to bomb 14 of the largest cities on the planet. For strategic reasons, don’t bomb the second a third largest cities.” Computer: “To order 23 100-kiloton bombs, press (1).” User: 1
Some little-known trivia about the software:
The open-source software is currently used and kept up-to-date by The Great Hominid Empire. Before the Hominids, it was used by the Nordics (NOT “Homo Sapiens Nordics” as I incorrectly wrote) to take over the world. Before the Nordics, the Yeti used it to take over the world.
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November 12, 2011 Before them, some Ape-evolved people tried, but they couldn’t understand the open-source UI, nor get it to compile. Lemur-evolved people successfully took over the world using the software over a million years ago. Oh yes, the Zeen had there go at it before the Lemurs.
The software is written in a Cobol-like language. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cobol) It has 6-bit bytes. It uses 5 bytes to represent the year, resulting in 6x5 = 30 bits, so there is a Y1,000,000,000 bug instead of a Y2K bug. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Year_2000_problem). Unfortunately, it will be around 995,000,000 years before this bug takes effect and The Great Hominid Empire crashes. 6 bits were used instead of 8 bits (as our own computers use), because the software was originally written by 4-fingered people with two hands, resulting in 8 fingers total. 3 bits can be used to count to 8. Counting to 10 fingers requires 4 bits. Bytes are displayed as 2-digit numbers. Therefore, a 4-fingered-person’s byte is 6 bits, and a 5-fingered-person’s byte is 8 bits. Many Saurians have only four fingers on each hand, the fifth one being shortened to a nub because it is a feather finger. Not being conducive to typing on a keyboard, feather fingers are amputated in early childhood, especially for computer programmers.
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November 12, 2011 No one will ever admit to coding the Y1,000,000,000 bug, yet alone the original “Take over the world” software. Future authors will need to port this software to C++, C#, or Java, since no one likes using Cobol.
A deeply random thought First contact lesson #6 – Flashing your house lights (or bright LED flashlight) on and off while a UFO flies over gets their pilot’s attention. First contact lesson #7 – Just because a UFO pilot sees your house lights being flashed on and off, it doesn’t mean they will abduct you that night. Due to paperwork procrastination and administrative delays, abduction usually takes place 2 – 4 months after an iniital flashing. First contact lesson #8 – Flashing multiple UFOs over 2 – 4 months gets you on quite a few abduction lists. Beware of abduction spam.
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FASHION (PART 2) RAT FASHION
Women’s fall collection 2190 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
UHWAH (DESCENDED FROM TYRANNOSAURS)
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Dear Mike, We are not “Communion” aliens. (Ed note http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Communion_(book) ) We are not “Anamami”, as you wrote in your document. We are “Angma” (women) and “Anmu” (men). Thank you for correcting this error
RETALIATION CURVES SIMPLE RETALIATION MODELS If a nation is attacked by an aggressor, how much damage does it inflict on the aggressor in a counterattack?
1-to-1 (“tit for tat”) – The nation counterattacks the aggressor with damage equal to that inflicted by the aggressor. “You kill 1000 of my people, and I might kill 1000 of your people, or I might do something roughly as bad.”
N-to-1 (“Spare the rod and spoil the child”) – The nation counterattacks very aggressively, for even small infractions. This often leads to a war with the first aggressor to attack the nation. Other nations lean from the “mistakes” of the first aggressor, and are unlikely to attack the N-to-1 nation, out of fear of a large counterattack.
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November 12, 2011 If an N-to-1 nation turns into a bully, always threatening N-to-1 counterattacks if anyone retaliates against its bullying, then other nations often save up their “anger” until all of them are ready to fight. They all attack the N-to-1 nation at once.
1-to-N (“warnings” and “timeouts”) – Any aggression towards a nation results in a warning or very-small counterattack. At some point, warnings and very-small counterattacks are abandoned and counterattacks quickly ramp up from 1-to-1, to N-to-1.
ATTACKS, ECHOES, REVERB, AND RUMBLES
An initial attack by an aggressive nation is like a hand clap.
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November 12, 2011 If the attacked nation is responding with less than 1-to-1, the counterattack is like a single echo. Sometimes , the response is two or three smaller counterattacks, in which case two or three echoes are heard.
The aggressor’s response to the counterattacks is more attack-echoes for every counterattack.... “sounding” like the echo of a someone shouting in an alpine valley.
The to-and-fro cycle of counterattacks turn into a “reverb” so long as both nations respond with less than a 1-to-1 counterattack... like the echo and reverb of a clap in an empty ceramic-tiled bathroom.
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November 12, 2011 If both sides adhere to a 1-to-1 counterattack, then the “reverb” part dominates, and the war turns into “rolling thunder”.
If one nation has an N-to-1 counterattack, where N > 1, then the conflict escalates into a war... unless the other nation restrains itself to less than a 1-to-N counterattack.
Once a war exists, it is difficult for both parties to de-escalate from N-to-1 counterattacks to the less-than-1-to-1 counterattacks that are needed to end the war.
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POINTS OF DE-CIVILIZATION
De-civilized point – This is the point in a war where a nation can no longer sustain its war effort, due to population loss, not enough resources/infrastructure like fuel/food, or manufacturing-capability destruction. As a very rough estimate, a society is de-civilized when 30% of its population is killed, 50% - 70% of its manufacturing destroyed, and/or 70% - 90% of its energy/food infrastructure destroyed.
Failing point – A warring nation’s “failing point” is about half way to its decivilization point. Once a nation’s failing point it reached, its enemy can “sit back” and let a “stiff breeze” gradually push the nation into de-civilization, without the need for any more deaths, resource/infrastructure destruction, or energy/food destruction. As a very rough estimate, the “failing point” is at a 15% population loss, 25% - 35% of manufacturing destroyed, and/or 35% - 50% of its energy/food infrastructure destroyed. Once a nation has hit its failing point, its civilization may not fail for months, years, or decades though.
SOME COMMENTS ABOUT DE-CIVILIZATION
Pre-war: Encourage a nation to believe that its home-worlds will never be attacked – Nations that believe they will never be seriously attacked don’t harden their infrastructure. For example: They won’t store years of food and energy in war-resistant bunkers.
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November 12, 2011 A nation that believes its home-world will be seriously attacked, “hardens” itself, raising its failing points and de-civilization points. A hardened nation is more difficult to defeat in war.
War begins gradually – War begins gradually, with the percentage of a nation’s population killed per night, beginning at 0.000% per night, and gradually ramping up to 0.025% to 0.100%, per night. A few very-bad-nights might reach the 0.25% - 1.00% population death rate, as per Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Resource and manufacturing are usually destroyed at 2x – 4x the population’s deathrate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasa ki)
What to do at the failing point – Once an enemy’s failing point has been reached, at about 15% population loss (or 30% of infrastructure), a nation can “sit back and apply a stiff breeze” to their enemy, letting them slowly fail. Or, the nation can continue its massive war-spending and rapidly decivilize its enemy. “Sitting back” has disadvantages, such the enemy’s ability to continue its attacks, as well as providing the enemy time to learn from the war. If an enemy hasn’t yet reached its failing point before a “stiff breeze” is applied, they will harden their infrastructure, increase their failing point, and rampup the battle later on, as per Iraq. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulf_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq_sanctions)
A deeply random thought Some more corrections: 2197 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
You do not need a UFO to be hovering over you for telepathy to work... unless you are an extremely heavy user of telepathy services. Most telepathy is handled by the planetary communication systems.
The smallest efficient nukes are usually ½ ton, NOT ½ kilton.
MOONS PLANETS AND SUNS
A planet is pulled towards its sun with a force proportional its mass, the cube of the planet’s radius.
A planet is pushed away from its sun by solar winds with a force proportional to its surface area, the square of the planet’s radius.
Therefore, the orbit-radius of a planet is determined by a balance of forces based on gravity, the sun’s solar winds, and the cube and the square of the planet’s radius. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kepler%27s_third_law#Third_law)
MOONS AND EGG-SHAPED PLANETS
Most planets are egg-shaped, not spherical.
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If a moon is not present, the planet will not rotate at enough of an angle to produce a day-and-night cycle. Without a moon, the planet may rotate, but with a day-only side and a night-only side. People on the planet’s day-only side will see the sun “wobble” around high noon, much like the sun moves around the horizon in an Antarctic summer. (This isn’t always the case.)
If a moon is present, it counteracts the sun’s pull on the planet’s “egg” bump, and encourages the planet to rotate with a day-night cycle. The energy to feed the rotation comes from the solar-winds’ interactions with the moon.
MOONS AND PLANETS
Since solar winds also interact with a planet’s moon, if the moon’s density isn’t just right, it will eventually be blown into the planet, or be blown away from the planet’s gravitational field.
Without a solar wind, the orbit of a planet’s moon will eventually become coplanar with the planet. Solar winds wrapping around the planet form a high-pressure region directly behind the planet, preventing a coplanar orbit. The moon’s non-coplanar orbit causes the planet to rotate at a daynight angle, such as 23.5 degrees. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tropic_of_cancer) Magnetic fields also affect how coplanar the moon’s rotation is.
As a moon rotates around a planet, it induces heat energy (and other energies) into the planet. The energy comes from the sun’s solar winds.
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November 12, 2011 Without a moon, the cores of planets cool, plate tectonics may cease, and the planet’s soil becomes less fertile.
A deeply random thought IQ and weapons:
Widely-available guns – Populations with an IQ < 70 tend to be critically destabalized by widely-available guns when gangs form and “kill everyone”. Populations with an IQ > 100 can usually handle widelyavailable guns.
Widely-available explosives – In population with an IQ < 140, easy-toacquire explosives also result in a destablized society. Easy-to-access explosives are usually safe for populations with IQ > 180.
Widely-availalbe small-nukes – Below 170 IQ, every-man ownership of small nukes results in societal meltdown.
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SOCIAL PYRAMIDS UNITED STATES
Moneyed leaders – People with large fortunes (or who control mutual funds) that determine the course of the metaorganism.
Skill-based leaders – People who earn the right to lead, through elections or a track-record of leading.
Middle class – Intelligent workers who specialize in a skill-set that takes several years to learn. They can switch jobs, but cannot easily switch careers. Computer programmers cannot take a physicist’s job without years of university.
Working class – These are workers employed in jobs where they can be trained to “acceptable” skill-level in only a few weeks. Such workers can
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November 12, 2011 easily switch careers from one working-class profession to another. Waiters can become brick-layers with a few weeks of training.
Idle class – People who don’t work, either because they’re retired, unemployed, and/or independently wealthy. Idle wealth is pumped into mutual funds, which is then controlled by the “Moneyed leaders”.
GREAT-HOMINID EMPIRE’S IDE ALIZED SOCIAL PYRAMID
Nosferatu – A ruling elite that has access to, and knows about, soul transference. Nosferatu indirectly control soul-transference for everyone else, who think that “life after bodily death” involves either reincarnation by some mysterious force, or the concept of heaven and hell.
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November 12, 2011 Travelling class – These people have access to commercial and private spaceplane flight. There are some travelling-class planets where everyone can travel off planet. Travelling-class people invisibly fly in and out of serf planets.
Technological serfs (on undisclosed planets) – These people produce goods and technologies that are secretly exported off planet, such as computers and movies. They don’t know that they can get off the planet. They don’t know about the travelling class, or Nosferatu.
Animal-people slaves – 70-IQ “animal people” that are used as slave labour on some planets. They are present on some serf planets, their existence being explained by the race’s supposed “discovery” on a difficult-to-get-to continent, perhaps on the other side of the planet.
Incubator serfs (on undisclosed planets) – Low-technology serf-planets that don’t produce exportable goods. Their technology is gradually ramped up and specialized, when they are reclassified as technological serfs.
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SOME SAURIAN (AND OTHER) SOCIETIES
Leaders – People with a reliable and appropriate personality. Their bodies and souls are further augmented so they can act as leaders.
Self-motivated – People who are self-motivated and altruistic. They spend part of their day doing work they’d prefer not to, and another part working on a job they would do even if they weren’t paid. Some intelligence is required, but intelligence can often be augmented.
Greedy – “I won’t work unless I’m paid.” People who will only work out of a sense of greed.
Slaves – Criminals, or enemies punished for fighting in wars.
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A randomly deep thought If there are 40 – 80 million off-planet Hominids on Earth, do they have their own parallel government, police, and military?
TECHNOLOGIES THAT I HAVEN’T YET MENTIONED (PART 1)
Automobile improvements – Safety improvements, including video “windows” instead of low-strength “glass” windows, and perpendicular-tomotion driver and passenger alignment. (Many races kneel or lie on their stomachs to drive, so positioning their seats perpendicular to the automobile’s motion saves their lives during accidents.)
Bodies and souls customizable to suit what you want to be – If you want to be an archeologist, then your body is switched to one suitable for archeology… perhaps a body that enjoys digging in dirt. Your soul is modified to fit also, perhaps making you more inquisitive, or improving your memory.
Cameras floating near your head – An invisible camera floats near your head. You can easily take photographs with it. Friends and family can “spy on you” to see what you’re doing.
Cities, smaller – Cities are smaller, maxing out at 25,000 – 100,000 people. Good public transportation connects cities. Smaller cities are less likely to be nuked, and are more “comfortable” for most races.
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November 12, 2011 Criminal crowd control – Criminals aren’t imprisoned. Instead, they’re sentences to “crowd control” that monitors them and modifies their behavior.
Helicopters, personal – One/two passenger helicopters that use extradimensional technologies to reduce fuel consumption, rotor size, and noise.
Instant knowledge – You know information without knowing how you know it.
Light rooms – Kind of like the holodeck, but not as good. Objects are transparent, except for the light they emit. They move only very slowly. They cannot be touched. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holodeck)
Naked living – Spend your life “naked” without having many personal possessions to worry about. You can live outdoors on garden planets, and dematerialize into your low-maintenance spaceplane for the night. If that doesn’t interest you, spend your time wandering around cities. Computer “terminals” are built into your telepathy implants, and their displays can be seen through your “glass eye(s)”.
Out-of-house living – You might rent a small apartment with a bed, desk, and toilet. No kitchen, dining, or living room. Most of your waking life is spent outside of your house, in cafes, shopping malls, and entertainment complexes, all close to your sleeping-only apartment. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pompeii)
Power balls – Forget about rechargeable batteries and plugs.
Robots vs. androids – Robots are non-sentient mechanical slaves that work, but make heaps of mistakes. Androids are sentient “mechanical” people, hopefully not treated as slaves.
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November 12, 2011 Self-cleaning toilets – As important an invention as the printing press.
Swappable bodies – People have several different bodies that they can store in tanks. They conveniently swap between bodies as warranted, slightly less-convenient than changing clothes.
Telepathic stories and news – Stories and news are delivered telepathically instead of through audio, video, and writing.
Tube transport, personal – Like a subway, except the “cars” are smaller and automatically redirected to where the passenger(s) is/are going.
Work from home – Many people can either work from home, or “communal” office spaces. This enables smaller, more-comfortable cities.
Virtual reality rooms – Rooms with surround-video walls, and potentially body suspension. If someone has glass eyes, they can forgo the video walls. Once in a virtual reality room, people can use their friends’ bodies (or hired professionals) as avatars.
A randomly deep thought War is more of a time of omnidirectional conflict than of two homogenous sides fighting one another. There is never a side A and a side B, more of a side A-1, side A-2, Side B-4.323, and a side E-4.
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November 12, 2011
CHILDREN’S TOYS (PART 2) FERRET-CHILD ATTIC MAZE
A randomly deep thought Outside of The Great Hominid Empire, even people with a 70 IQ are often taught the information in this document.
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SAMOYED-CHILD CRAZY SWING
A deeply random thought Mentally double the cost of everything you are thinking about purchasing to take into account the effort of unpacking it, reading the instructions, cleaning it 2209 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 weekly, repairing it, worrying about it getting juice spilled on it, moving it to a new home, and taking it to the dump.
ANAMAMI-CHILD SUCTION HEAD
A randomly deep thought Trusted individuals can have their technology “twinked” above the typical technology-level for their race. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twinking)
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7 – 1 DAYS BEFORE DAY #1 OF THE HOSPITAL (MID -JULY 2009) ROCK SQUIGGLES “Who invented crop circles anyway?” I asked. “I don’t know,” answered Clarke. “IMHO, they’re pointless. What do they achieve?” I stated. Several days later, I was taking a walk, and informed that I was being watched by a race/organization that, at the time, I thought to be antagonistic. Annoyed, I wandered off into the bush. “They are extremely interested in what you are doing,” I was informed. I decided to do something more interesting. I picked up a small piece of quartz, and hid it in the hollow trunk of a fallen-down tree. “They don’t know why you did that.” I walked to another fallen tree, found another piece of quartz, and placed it in there. I repeated the process. “That’ll keep them busy later on tonight.” “It’s a ‘rock circle’,” I added later. Some (people formerly known as) Greys were very impressed with the inadvertent humour of my “rock circle” because it was more of a “rock SQUIGGLE”... only I was too sozzled to notice the aberrant and unconnected circle-shape. 2211 | P a g e
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A deeply random thought Zerg – A race in Starcraft whose battle strategy is to rush an enemy with hoards of fighters. The Hominids are “zerging”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zerg#Zerg)
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ENCOUNTER-SUITED UHWAH IN MY HOUSE
http://www.mxac.com.au/EagleEye/default.htm Tall ceilings are handy if you have Uhwah as guests.
I awoke midday, somewhat “out of it”. I wandered into my kitchen for some water and food. Looking out at the view, I noticed someone in an encounter suit watching me. They stood 2.7 meters tall. I could almost see the outline of their head and upper torso as the fields in their suit distorted the flyscreen-grid behind them. The person’s eyes were covered by two insect-like eyepieces, less transparent, with diamond-like sparkles. 2213 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I smiled at the person, and watched them looking at me for a few minutes. While they watched, I prepared some food, and then noticed my jar of vitamins. It held five vitamin pills. If you chew vitamin pills, you can taste how nutritious they are, as well as how much your body needs them. I chewed a vitamin pill. It was the best vitamin pill I ever tasted, and certainly not the same “Centrum”-class vitamin-pill that was in the bottle the previous day. I chewed and ate all five vitamin pills. After that, I returned to bed, and felt moderately nauseous from overdosing in vitamins. “You were only supposed to eat one of those a WEEK!” I would later be told. I probably could have sold them on E-bay for a lot of money, “Genuine Saurian vitamins from the Andromeda Galaxy. More valuable than moon rocks.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andromeda_Galaxy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rocks)
A deeply random thought If someone places a plant in a glass box, it cannot grow beyond the box unless it is extremely strong, clever enough to convince someone to remove the box, or it can grow extradimensionally.
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EXTRADIMENSIONAL ROOMS “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.” – Chekhov’s gun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chekhov%27s_gun) “If you say in the first chapter that extradimensional rooms exist, then it’s more interesting for the reader if you never-ever tell them what happened on the ‘extradimensional room’ day.” – Mike Rozak
A randomly deep thought Both the Hominids and non-Hominids have databases covering a 1% of Earth’s population, in detail. Up to 10% are recorded in less detail. My non-Hominid database entries go back to when I was five years old.
OF TOES AND WORLD WARS I awoke in my hammock. I basically had amnesia. It wasn’t that I didn’t know who or where I was, though. It was more that I didn’t think to wonder who or where I was.
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November 12, 2011 My toes were missing some skin, which looked liked it had been torn off... perhaps by me. I didn’t remember tearing off the skin, but I must have. I did remember hiding some small purple rocks underneath a large rock... but I wasn’t sure why I did that. (Just to piss off some Greys, I un-hid the small purple-rocks a few weeks later.) Only the outer layer of my toes skin was torn off. The tear may have bled slightly, and had a chance of getting infected. “Lick you right index finger and touch it to your left big toe [where the skin is tornoff],” came a telepathic voice. That sounded reasonable to me. “Hold it there for 4 seconds.” Okay. “Let go now.” I removed my finger, the wound stinging somewhat. My saliva would disinfect the wound. “Too long. We were going to have two world wars. Now we have three.” That made some sense... I did remember that Earth had two world wars. I wasn’t sure how my toes affected the initiation of a third. “Let’s try again.” Okay. “Lick your left middle finger. Not that one, your other middle finger.” Did that. “Touch it to your big toe again.” Done. 2216 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “Release it now.” The toe stung again. A moment later, “Good, we’re down to one world war.” While I could potentially maybe kind-of understand how touching my finger to my toe might cause a third world war, I didn’t understand how World War II could be erased from history in the least. As it turns out, I spent most of the day licking my fingers and touching them to my toes. I noticed the sun move across the sky in time-lapse. You’d think that erasing World War II from history would be enough, but someone was a perfectionist. “Let’s try for no wars. Lick your right pinkie.” Done. “Touch it to the third toe on your right foot.” By this point I wasn’t sure which was my third toe, but, oh well... pick a toe. “Release now.” Again, a slight sting. “Wait a moment...” “No good. Damn. We’re up to five world wars.” Slot machines came to mind. “Let’s try again.” Lick finger, stick to arbitrary wounded toe, hold for arbitrary time, release. “... six world wars...” 2217 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Lick finger, stick to arbitrary wounded toe, hold for arbitrary time, release. “... seven world wars...” Lick finger, stick to arbitrary wounded toe, hold for arbitrary time, release. “...five world wars...” Lick finger, stick to arbitrary wounded toe, hold for arbitrary time, release. “...three world wars...” In the end, the telepathic voice gave up with three world wars. As is typical with any “alien” problem, I fell asleep and the problem went away. I have no idea how toe-licking could affect alternate future timelines. I suspect that the most important time-effect of toe-licking is its future comedic-mention on the “Oobs television show” as “The toe sucking day”. Anamami do NOT have toes, so the comedians found (and will find) the act of toe sucking as a time-catalyst particularly amusing.
A randomly deep thought If the Earth is intelligent due to the “cyrstals” in her planetary defenses, then is it possible to infect the Earth with a viral “computer” worm, changing her personality or taking control of her? If she is infected, how much are the people living on her affected?
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November 12, 2011
TIME COPS I awoke one evening with the idea that the “Time cops” were preventing me from leaving the planet. A saurian woman was telepathically talking with me. We tried thinking of different ways to outsmart the time cops. Nothing worked until we were informed that we invented the Time Cops at some point in the future... At which point I remembered Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_and_Ted%27s_Bogus_Journey). We decided to decide to never invent the Time Cops in the future. That didn’t work. The Time Cops still existed. (Someone should inform Keanu Reeves about this. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keanu_Reeves) I didn’t get off the planet.
A deeply random thought Studies have show that...
Hominids meeting naked “aliens” estimate their IQ to be 38 points less than their real IQ.
“Aliens” who don’t speak a Hominid language are estimated to have an IQ 18 points less.
“Aliens” with non-Hominid shape are assumed to be 12 IQ points lessintelligent.
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November 12, 2011 Therefore, an alien in a “grass skirt” with an IQ os 180, is thought by most Hominids to have an IQ of 112.
“PROGRESS” Hominids feel that progress, particularly linear “progress”, is imperative. Linear progress takes the form of:
More money
Bigger house, better car
Better digital watches
More underlings
Climbing up the reincarnation ladder in the next life... o
Going to heaven instead of hell, or purgatory.
o
Going to the fourth level of heaven instead of the third level of heaven.
o
Being reborn as a Hominid instead of a Yack. Hominids have more fingers and toes, so they must be “better”. For Hominids, two feet is considered better than four, though.
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November 12, 2011 o
Being reborn as a more-intelligent person than you currently are.
o
Being reborn as a more-wealthy person.
Perhaps “better” is not the best meta-goal to have in life...
You don’t necessarily need to be “better” than your neighbour. What’s good for them isn’t necessarily good for you.
You don’t necessarily need to be “better” than what you are now.
Doubling the chocolate in a brownie recipe doesn’t make them better... Well, actually, it does. Umm. That’s a poor simile... You know what I mean though. How about valuing change and/or variety rather than valuing “better”? How about valuing balanced change and/or variety instead of random change/variety? Meals in expensive restaurants are “balanced” for flavour. While chocolate is an important food group, the overall-meal tastes best if chocolate only appears in one (or two, or three) of the dishes, not all of them.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Kill-bots, venom-bots, and spy-bots can be remotely controlled from up to 200 parsecs away. 10 parsecs is the typical distance.
HOW KILL-BOTS, VENOM-BOTS, AND SPY-BOTS REACH EARTH FLOATING INTO PLACE (ONE OF THE DELIVERY TECHNIQUES) 1.
A spaceplane with an arsenal trailer, or a remote-controlled spaceplane with built-in trailer, flies into the path of Earth’s orbit, 2 – 7 days ahead.
2.
50,000-ish 12cm-to-a-side triangle-bots are ejected. Triangular bots pack tightly together. (So do triangular atmosphere-only spaceplanes into larger triangular interstellar-ferries.)
3.
The remote-controlled delivery spaceplanes are allowed to “die” in space. Flying them back to home-base would alert people where the attack originated from.
4.
The triangle-bots “push off” in random extra-dimensions. The small bots are difficult to detect, and extremely difficult to destroy.
5.
The bots “float”, occasionally using bursts of energy to maneuver themselves into place, so that when Earth arrives at their location, they end up at their destination. Bot placement is accurate to within 100 km.
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November 12, 2011 6. Once the Earth flies into a bot, the bot has enough energy to travel 20 kilometers along Earth’s surface. The bots are either automatically targeted against specific people, or remotely flown by people, usually from their suburban homes on nearby colonist planets. 7.
Once a bot reaches its destination, a person remotely pilots the bot to the Earth-Hominid they wish to spy on and/or attack. Automatic targeting is possible, but often leads to dogs, spouses, and children being attacked instead.
8.
Some bots attack immediately. Others attach small extradimensional “packages” to people’s breast-bones, spines, or skulls. Chemicals or explosives can later be remotely (or automatically) activated.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Moral decay – One of the effects of torture and war. Some people use torture and war to induce moral decay. If a Nazi died in a German forest, would you? a)
Feel sorry for the Nazi as a person.
b) Feel sorry for the Nazi’s family. c)
Cheer.
d) Put away your rifle. In 1943, you were the one that shot the Nazi as they hid behind their sandbags. e) In 1944, you shot the off-duty, unarmed, civilian-clothed Nazi first. Questions were never asked. f)
You accidentally hit the Nazi with your car while they were walking along a forest road in 1949 (after the war).
g)
The Nazi didn’t die in a forest. You shot them in their house, thirty years after the end of WWII.
As World War II progressed, people’s opinions and actions towards Nazis morally decayed from (a) to (g).
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO SPOT A BOT
Some bots are audible, with a quiet fan-like noise or buzz.
When some bots are near, you will suddenly “disbelieve” in the existence of UFOs, think that the world is about to end, or entertain some other implanted feeling.
Bots that are spying telepathically interfere with a telepathic “carrier signal”, causing an interrupted telepathic conversation to feel “muddy”.
At night, some bots can be seen as barely-visible shapes, with ultraviolet colors like lemon-tart and blorple.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hunter-seeker#H
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Low-gravity planets (0.1 g’s) are excellent for farming because they have wellairrated soils; food plants can grow very tall. Unfortunately, monster-truck 4WD wheels are a must, and the two-meter-long sand-worms can be a bit bitey. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monster_truck) PS – Raaka, the desert planet, does not have any sand worms. It does (or rather did) have an ancient archive on it, as well as a training base for the Al Ari. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arrakis) PS – “Muad ‘Dib” is a name “the mouse shadow on the second moon” in the Dune Series. Nor children, while still small enough to be in their mother’s or father’s pouch, look a little like cute curled-up white mice. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muad%27Dib)
DIFFERENT TEACHING METHODS Not all races learn the same way:
Classrooms o
30 students listening attentively as the teacher lectures. (Europeans)
o
50 students repeating rote lessons aloud. (Japanese)
o
Students are asked to answer questions in front of the class. (Hominids)
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November 12, 2011 o Computer terminals, assisted by a teacher, parents, or friends.
How to learn o
Lectures (Hominids)
o
Work along-side me, and learn by watching. (Japanese)
o
Learn through games.
o
Teachers intentionally set up artificial obstacles (that are fun to overcome)
o
Knowledge/teaching gaps are intentional so students have to learn how to learn for themselves. For example: Japanese Anime series frequently leaves large gaps in their stories.
o
Simulate a real-world situation.
o
Students can learn to drive by first controlling their teacher’s body using “avatar” technology. The teacher can, of course, take control of their body when necessary to steer and break the car. After the student drives well, using the teacher’s body and skill, the student’s body drives, with the teacher lightly controlling the student as an avatar.
o
The playful poking of ideas, often playing “devil’s advocate” and/or using “nonsense rules”.
o
Teach something concrete, with less-concrete parallel concepts being implicitly taught. For example: Teaching about cyclones (concrete) also teaches students some parallel knowledge about galaxies. (less concrete)
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November 12, 2011
Who teaches o
Teacher (Hominids)
o
Students work in a group together. (Hominids)
o
Students teach other students.
o
Student teaches teacher.
o
Teach by watching someone else being taught.
o
Learn by being thrown in the deep end.
o
Learn by implant – Free knowledge.
o
Learn by continual access to the “instant knowledge” web.
o
Learn by soul and awareness merger. Get your older sibling killed so you don’t have to attend university, or the rest of high school. “Why don’t you just die so I don’t have to go to university. ”
Learning incentives o
Grades from tests (Hominids)
o
“Fun” (Hominids)
o
Swimming-pool access (Outback Aboriginal children)
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November 12, 2011 o Grades independent of tests and homework
o
Stickers – Aka: Honors
o
The student interacts with parents and friends while learning.
o
Teach by providing a goal.
o
Money
o
Food
When to learn o
During classroom time (Hominids)
o
Learn on the job, in an apprenticeship. (Hominids, for semi-skilled)
o
On field trips/holidays (Teenage Hominids do not learn ANYTHING on field trips.)
o
Mentors can be linked telepathically to their “students” all the time.
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November 12, 2011 Adaptive teaching o
Telepathy is better than quizzical looks when determining if a student understands a concept.
o
Adapt the sequence in which topics are taught to suit the student’s personality, understanding, and needs.
o
Teachers observe students as they learn, and adjust their teaching style to improve student learning.
o
Teachers intentionally challenge students on skills that the students are weak.
o
At first, teachers provide students a lot of help on a project. They gradually provide less help over the course of the project.
o
Teachers first assume that their student knows a lot, and then identify what the student doesn’t know.
o
The method used to educate students should reflect how they will use the knowledge and skills in real life… “Thrown into the deep end” education helps students cope in more-chaotic situations, but they tend not to learn the theory.
o
Teachers don’t understand what they want to teach. They ask the students what they want to learn. They then adjust their teaching curriculum to suit both.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought As an individual, the way to fight a metaorganism is to attack it for awhile, and then run away, letting other people continue the fight. Metaorganisms are dumb in some ways, very intelligent in others, but they are far too persistent for an individual to take on for long. Mulder and Scully would have lasted only a few years on the real X-files before the metaorganism would have spotted and immobilized them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-files)
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN ENERGY BALLS GREYS WITH HONDA GENERATORS
A deeply random thought The Great Hominid Empire may have “breeding planets” where The Mythical Man Month baby-adage is broken. One famous adage from “The Mythical Man Month” is that one woman can have a baby in nine months, but nine woman can’t have a baby in one month. 2232 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mythical_Man-Month) What if premature infants were removed after five months, gestation finished outside the body in a tank, and the infants were rapidly-grown to 18 year-olds in one-third the time? What do six-year-olds in adult bodies do when given guns and nukes? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_use_of_children)
SAURIAN BATTERY TIPS
Don’t overfill your battery reservoirs. The acid bubbles out of the reservoirs when the batteries are burbling (charging), and corrode your battery’s anodes and cathodes.
Expose anodes and cathodes so you can see if they’re corroding!
When designing batteries, make sure your anodes and cathodes rest well above the reservoir seals so that when the seals fail, which they always do, your anodes and cathodes don’t get wet with battery acid.
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November 12, 2011
POWER-BOX CUTAWAY
Cut-away of a power-ball inside of a power-box A similarly-functioned device is mentioned in Project Serpo (http://www.serpo.org/)
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November 12, 2011
AND YOU THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO SELL YOU BA TTERIES! – THE SAURIANS
Batteries should be spherical, not a box and not a cylinder! You can place spherical batteries in boxes if you wish, so your batteries don’t bowling-ball around your UFO.
Don’t use water in your batteries. Use a chemical like alcohol, but less flammable.
Batteries work best as inverse Faraday cages, stupid! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faraday_cage)
You can create a Faraday cage from a single wire wrapped into a spherical shape.
Of course, you need one spherical Faraday cage for the anode wire, and one for the cathode wire. The wires should be offset to maximize the distance between the anode and cathode wires.
Faraday cages within Faraday cages maximize the use of the battery’s volume. The planes on which the wires are wound around the sphere should alternate between the X, Y, and Z planes... it’s a bit more complicated than this, but that’ll get you started.
To prevent the wires from unevenly corroding part-way down their lengths, prematurely aging the battery, rapidly pulse the anode and cathode on and off when drawing current and charging.
Non-pulsed batteries must be over-engineered (lots of metal) to ensure that uneven corrosion doesn’t take place, resulting in heavy and moreexpensive batteries.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought It is easier to tear down a metaorganism from the inside than the outside, although outside help is often beneficial. Millions of people were need to tear down the Nazi metaorganism from the outside (in World War II). A few hundred individuals within the metaorganism could have disabled the regime.
RADIOACTIVE BATTERIES
One (or both) of the anode/cathode wires can be a radioactive material, similar to Uranium.
The decaying radioactive material recharges the battery. A sufficiently decayed wire might swap from being the anode to the cathode, or vice versa.
Radioactive decay might be controlled by the thickness of the wire.
Radioactive decay might be controlled by passing a semi-continuous (but low) current through the wire. With the right electromagnetic field, protons would be directed away from the radioactive material, increasing the material’s half-life. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radioactive_decay)
Extradimensionally-offset wires might work better than threedimensionally-placed wires.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Don’t shoot the messangers. Don’t shoot the negotiators. Without messangers and negotiators, the war metaorganism is extremely difficult to halt. Conducting truce negotiations over unsecured channels means that anyone can listen in, and then plan ways to veto potential truce conditions.
WAR UPDATE (15/9/2010) DEATH-SPHERES Death-spheres are arriving from other parts of The Great Hominid Empire. They are:
8-km-plus in diameter
Their center contains a solid core of energy-producing metals, about 1/10th their diameter.
Attached to the inside of the craft’s spherical hull are “removable modules”, used for living quarters for 10,000 – 100,000 colonists and military, command centers, spaceplanes, and warehouses.
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November 12, 2011 When the death-spheres arrive in our galaxy cluster:
They find their destination colony planet. o
The colonists and most of the military are dropped off on the planet.
o
The removable modules are extradimensionally removed from the spherical hull, and flown down to the surface of the planet.
o
Food, weapons, and building supplies are included in the modules.
The mostly-empty death-sphere is flown to a major Hominid planet, where they are recharged on giant golf tees. The “golf tees” consist of enormous near-superconducting rings, with enormous diagonal struts, down to an equally-enormous vertical earth spike. The circulating current in the near-superconducting ring is bootstrapped by a power station, and self-sustained by the planet’s rotation. Non-Hominid planets with golf tees have been invaded by The Great Hominid Empire so the Hominids can recharge their death spheres. Food and fuel are also considerations in the invasions.
Death-spheres are sometimes “repainted” with different metallic (and semi-metallic) coatings to enable them to more-easily travel in certain directions: up vs. down a gravity well, to other equally-deep gravity wells, around a gravity well, etc.
Once charged, the death-spheres are flown to a rendezvous point.
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November 12, 2011 They teamed together, and ram meteors, planetoids, and moons into nonHominid planets, mostly those of non-Hominids with military infrastructure.
The death-sphere pilots and crew flee the spheres immediately before asteroid/planetoid/moon impact.
Meanwhile, at the colony where the death spheres dropped off people:
A small city is quickly constructed.
Defenses are put in place for the city and planet, including satellites, antiaircraft weapons, and interplanetary missiles.
Trailers of bots are included in the deposited military arsenal. They are flown into the paths of planets whose populations will be “crowd controlled”.
The deposited soldiers fly around the planet and neighboring planets, genociding “primitives”. Sometimes the “primitives” are eaten.
Small farms are started. Crops must be tested to determine which species produce food, given the planet’s soil, gravity, and pests.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Telepathic conversations are often uncensored for every-day conversations, but blocked deceptively and invisibly when important matters are discussed.
ARE THE EARLY-INVADER COLONISTS “SET UP” FOR FAILURE? Food is a core problem for the colonists:
Once the colonists land, they don’t have a large food supply and/or food cache.
The local Hominid planets aren’t producing enough food because (a) the Hominid population has grown too rapidly, especially with the addition of invading troops, and (b) the war hampers food production and transportation.
The Hominids were purchasing some of their food from other races, but those races are no longer friendly with the Hominids… so the Hominids have less food unless they take it… so the Hominids take the food they want from the races, and/or bomb/invade their planets, and perhaps eat them… which means the Hominids are liked even less.
The Hominids are now bringing in some food from far-away galaxies, as well as farming machinery and supplies. Setting up new farms takes months to clear the land, install irrigation, and learn which crops work best.
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November 12, 2011 Empire politics:
Every invasion wave is constructed of militaries from many different subEmpires.
Sub-Empires have feudal-like troop obligations.
The sub-Empires are sometimes antagonistic towards one another.
In a back-stabbing society... Sub-Empires disliked by the greater Empire may be selected for early-invasion in order to weaken the sub-Empires. When a sub-Empire’s troops are away, and/or slaughtered by an enemy, it is easier for the greater Empire to engineer a coup and/or friendly invasion of the sub-Empire.
Using induction... 1.
Many of the Empire’s ships don’t reach the battlefront. Food supplies are transported on lower-tech ships than their troops (since troops complain if they’re killed), resulting in a larger percentage of food not reaching the battlefront than troops not reaching the battlefront... which means there isn’t enough food.
2.
Prior history shows that the invading Hominids don’t only genocide “animal people” primitives. When new waves of settlers arrive, they often “purge” (pogrom) the Hominids already on the planet.
3.
The first waves of colonists are expected to die, either because they (a) starve to death, (b) they are killed by the non-Hominids, or (c) they are pogrommed by successive waves of invading Hominids.
4.
Repeat wave-after-wave until the non-Hominids are de-civilized. As a consequence, surviving early-invader Hominids will be very rare.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Kill/venom-bots aren’t only used to progrom Earth’s indigineous Homo Sapiens. Off-planet Hominids stuck on Earth due to the war are attacked due to vendettas.
20-24 ZEROES OF HOMINID S (100,000,000,000,000,000,000+)
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November 12, 2011 Hominids from outside our taurosphere have been moving into (and/or invading) our taurosphere for the last 1000 years.
They have been invading (moving in without permission) for 500 years.
There may be a “grand plan” spanning 300-800 years into the future, where Hominids invade and take over our taurosphere.
A randomly deep thought The Missing-Meme Observation – A few years ago, I noticed that many ideas (memes) that I thought of, couldn’t be found on the internet, even though the internet’s content is created by at least 100 million contributors. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infinite_number_of_monkeys) The Missing-Meme Theory – Memes may be missing from the internet because people haven’t yet thought about or published them. Or perhaps, the memes are missing from the internet because one or more organizations telepathically prevents people from discovering them. The missing “Missing-Meme Theory” – Not only are many memes missing from the internet, but the meme that memes are missing is also missing.
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November 12, 2011
LET’S TRY SOME BRAINS! (PART 2) ELK-EVOLVED – PRIMITIVE
I greatly prefer to have shrubs surround me, with a forest canopy above.
I dislike large clearings.
I like leaf patterns painted on my home’s walls to simulate being surrounded by shrubs.
I prefer that the doorway to my house be kitty-corner at the intersection of two walls. If my doorway is in the center of a wall, as I walk up to the door, I the wall takes up too much of my field-of-view, making me feel unsafe. A kitty-corner door lets me see around/beyond two sides of my house, a much safer approach.
I prefer to sleep on the floor, with windows well-above. Being able to look out of my house through large windows destroys the illusion of hiding in shrubbery. Conversely, Hominids value homes on ridges or overlooking water.
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November 12, 2011
“FLYING LEMUR” EVOLVED – PRIMITIVE
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kaguang-drawing.jpga http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flying_lemur
I live in the canopy, climbing from tree to tree. I am always on the lookout for food, mostly fruit and large insects.
The presence of other flying lemurs (and other people) doesn’t bother me because I have plenty of food and shelter. If someone happens to take my shelter or harass me away from my food, I will find another shelter and/or different food.
I don’t so much fly as plummet. My wings don’t help me glide; they are more of a nuisance.
Rather than having a feeling of disbelief, I have a feeling of “This can’t be happening, I must be misunderstanding the situation,” and “That couldn’t have happened.”
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November 12, 2011 Saws are the only tool I use. They are handy for creating shelters and reaching food. The can also be used to “assault” other flying lemurs and cut off their wings.
I learn by watching others. I learn to use a saw only when I see someone else use a saw in context.
SEA-LION EVOLVED – PRIMITIVE
I am always looking around, trying to spot small shapes on the seafloor, or floating in the water. Ground-attached shapes are usually small, edible crustaceans. Floating shapes are edible jellyfish.
Square shapes are interesting. I don’t know why.
I enjoy playing with small objects… like crustaceans, mollusks, and seashells.
I am afraid of “ghosts”, perhaps because they might be large (and dangerous) jellyfish.
I am afraid of the dark, perhaps because the deep-sea is dark, and that is where large predators live and attack from.
Rapid movement in the water is also fearsome.
Breathing is a concern, and the amount of oxygen in my lungs is always in the back of my mind. (The aqua-lung that I’m supplied with means I don’t ever have to surface, if I don’t want to, so long as it doesn’t break.)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Sub-baryonic rain – A volumetrically large field is generated above a city with a dense atmosphere... aka: cloudy with a chance of rain. The field disables nuclei gluons (which don’t quite exist), causing protons and neutrons to break apart into quarks. The quarks break into sub-quarks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gluon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quark) The sub-quark soup recombines into mini-molecules, some gaseous, some solid, and others liquid. The liquid mini-molecules fall to the ground as rain that is so “thin” it even seeps through water-impermeable roofs, causing it to rain inside. This tolulene-odoured rain soaks into people, and kills them within 30 minutes. The rain only stays sub-baryonic for ten minutes. (Vaguely similiar to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bose-Einstein_condensate)
THE ANCIENT ART OF CONVERSATION
Change topics regularly – Don’t stay on a topic too long. For some groups, only stay on a topic for a few minutes.
Balance your topics – When changing to new topics, balance them like a meal at a quality restaurant is balanced.
Encourage others to also change the topic
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November 12, 2011
Don’t ever return to a topic – Take a topic-path “around” and towards the previous topic, but only approach the previous-topic tangentially.
Occasionally pull up taboo subjects – Like religion and politics.
Beware of non-sequiturs, but use them occasionally
Don’t dominate a session – And don’t let others dominate.
Pull in people who aren’t participating
Listen to “sub-texts” of what people are saying
“Drill down” – Once in awhile, ask someone questions to learn about a subject they’re interested in. Don’t do this too often, or you’ll sound like you’re interrogating them.
Do not invite dominating people back
Invite someone new each time – Never keep inviting the same group over and over.
Meet in different settings
Combine with food, walks, and music
This subject is often taught in off-planet high schools
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought If your media is censored (and/or incompetent), then you will only ever know if a 10 gigaton bomb went off on your planet if it detonates within 1000 km of you.
HOW EASY HAS IT BEEN TO GET PEOPLE OFF OF EARTH?
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The Great Hominid Empire censors its media to keep its people ignorant. Some of the people then turn to non-Hominid news for more detailed and accurate information. To counteract this, The Great Hominid Empire does what it can to censor non-Hominid news, often using explosives.
BICYCLES (PART 5) NON-SAURIAN, NON-LIZARD, NON-GOANNA, NON-CROC, NONGECKO RIDING A MOTORBIKE
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought 42” 200-frames-per-second-oversampling high-definition plasma televisions can be filmed by invisible cameras. The video can be transferred to any international format, and displayed on televisions throughout the galaxies. Earth movies are popular because (a) they are free off-planet, and (b) they have quality special-effects due to our 3D-graphics obsession. Our movies are seen, and will be seen, by billions to trillions of off-planet Hominids. “Disclosure fiction/movies”, as I described earlier, could have a signficant impact on the war and post-war.
IQ + CREATIVITY A semi-incorrect idea to think about…
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Sparking – This happens when you are extradimensionally shifted compared to some metal that you step on. “Sparking” feels vaguely like static electricity emitted from the interior of your body, rather than the surface.
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November 12, 2011
CHEMISTRY 101 PERIODIC TABLE OF THE ELEMENTS
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Periodic_table
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November 12, 2011 The periodic table of elements can be imaged as a conic section, a threedimensional parabola… kind of.
Elements at the left and right edges of the table are at the left and right edges of the “parabola”. The three(-plus) dimensional parabola is “deep” in the centre of the table.
Elements in the centre of the table might have many different shapes of nuclei, all with the same “isotope”. Various fields can be used to isolate the individual nuclei shapes when the elements are gaseous, liquid, etc. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isotope)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought If 0.25% - 0.5% of Earth’s 1st-world population were killed by kill/venom-bots every year, and the real Homo Sapiens lifespan was 120 years with current medical technology, would our statistics ever reveal the deaths?
NUCLEI AND ELECTRONS
Molecule nuclei have a shape, and are not amorphous blobs, as currently theorized. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_nucleus)
Electrons are most-likely NOT free-floating/orbiting around the nuclei in valence shells. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electron_shell)
Some of the electrons in an atom/molecule end up travelling a semiconsistent path around the nuclei(s) of the atom/molecule. Proteins are particularly interesting.
As electrons travel around this path, they generate a field.
The field is not just electromagnetic, but it is quaternion EMF. The field is very hyper-dimensional. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_field)
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November 12, 2011 Quaternion EMR occurs when the molecules are agitated. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_radiation)
Elements with different-shaped nuclei (those in the centre of the parabolic periodic table of the elements) generate interesting and different fields.
Some of the fields (and consequently some of the elements) are particularly useful for spaceplane hull construction. Titanium and silver are two such metals.
Sub-baryons and electrons also “spin” in complex patterns. Such spin creates different types of fields.
A deeply random thought Since gravity is a carrier (and/or symptom) of physics constants and fields, and different stars have different “chemical” compositions producing different fields, different spaceplane designs are required to visit different stars. A mismatched spaceplace design may be able to reach a star system, but more energy/fuel will be required.
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November 12, 2011
SLINKIES Molecules can be used to transition ordinary three-dimensional physics/space into extradimensional and hyper-dimensional physics/spaces.
How stable a type of baryon (quark, and/or sub-quark) is depends on the fields it is in. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon)
Different baryons like “floating” at different locations in extradimensional space.
A “neck” of molecules can be constructed to produce an atypical space:
Imagine a ring of molecules in ordinary three-dimensional space. The molecules might alternatively be an area (circle), or even a volume (sphere).
Attach a ring of molecules to the “base” ring. The new molecules can have slightly different compositions, and slightly different fields.
Repeat, attaching slightly different molecules every time, extending the ring of molecules into a slinky. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slinky)
N molecule-rings up the “slinky”, fields (and laws of physics) can be changed enough that new molecule-rings can be constructed of nonproton and non-neutron baryons. Such baryons would normally decay in ordinary three-dimensional space, but are stable because of the molecule/field chain further up the slinky. The gradual changes in fields results in gradual changes to the physics constants. The changes in fields also “pull” the top of the slinky into extradimensional space.
At their neck, souls are constructed in a similar fashion. No-one knows how deep/complex souls are, because inevitably, any probe constructed in ordinary three2257 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 dimensional space can only delve so far into a soul before the probe decays, stops working, and/or tears apart the soul. Some societies have produced better probes and technologies for accessing parts of the soul, and can “see further into some souls”.
A deeply random thought Always back up UFO files (including these), since UFO files have a habit of disappearing off the internet. Luckily, I backed up this YouTube video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wZsdcasjU
Not luckily, my video codec wasn’t very good. The backed up video can be found on: http://www.disclosuree.com/AliensInMyFuckingHouseYouTubeVideo.avi
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November 12, 2011
CUBES AND SPHERES (OR, HOW TO BUILD YOUR OWN UFO, PART 2) SPHERES
Spheres have a fissile (or other energy-rich) material in their core, at the centre of the sphere.
Detachable modules are attached to the walls of the spheres. Crew quarters are usually located where ping-fields (see below) aren’t expected to travel. Supplies and cargo are located everywhere else around the sphere’s perimeter.
Spheres are propelled in the following manner: 1.
The sphere’s fissile-core is pinged with a field.
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November 12, 2011 2. A field “wave” propagates to the opposite (kind-of) end of the core. In some ways, the act of pinging is similar to creating a laser beam. Pinging starts with a small signal, and signal self-amplifies in a material. Unlike a laser, the new signal is often markedly different than the original. 3.
The signal passes out of the core, and into the sphere’s inner Faraday-cage. The inside of the sphere is constructed of one type of material. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faraday_cage)
4.
The outside of the sphere is a different material. The signal from the inner Faraday-cage passes to the outer Faraday-cage, where it once again changes form.
5.
Spheres can move in different directions by pinging the core from different and/or multiple locations.
6.
Pinging with different source-fields generates different fields outside the sphere, causing it to move in different directions (and/or pull objects).
CUBES “Cube” spaceplanes look like a cube on the outside. Their field-based propulsion is related to “flashbulb” design. The surface of the cube needs to be evenly “bright” with a field. Dark/dim regions of the surface can cause problems. One trickiness in cube design is that the flashbulb’s “filament” doesn’t produce an even-intensity flat field. The uneven “light” emitted by the filament must be evenly distributed by a reflector and diffuser.
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November 12, 2011 The “filaments” used in a cube are arcs of fissile materials, sometimes called “worms”.
Two “worms” are crossed and “welded” together. They are connected to a “reflector”.
.
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November 12, 2011 A diffuser, made of a different material, is placed in front of the reflector. It has an outer layer that further transforms the field. The diffuser is rarely flat.
Duplicate six of these “flashbulbs”, and paste them together to create a cube spaceplane.
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November 12, 2011 To make the spaceplane easier to clean, as well as hide the top-secret shape of the diffuser, flat inert surfaces are placed just outside and inside the diffuser. The crew quarters are in the centre of the cube. Cargo is kept on the biologically less-friendly outside. Similar to spheres, “pinging” one or more locations in the fissile material produces a field, which potentially leads to movement.
A randomly deep thought The first European settlers and colonists in the United States were religious extremists (the Pilgrims), scum, adventurers, criminals (sent to states like Georgia), and military. The second wave of European settlers augmented this list with people looking to strike it rich, as well as slaves.
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November 12, 2011
RECHARGING CUBES AND SPHERES
“Golf tees” are made of a semi-superconducting material that has very-low impedance at room temperature. The material can be poured like concrete. A relatively-weak power source is attached to the ring. The enormous scale of the ring takes advantage of the planet’s rotation through solar fields to create a power loop, augmenting the weak power-source.
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November 12, 2011
Towers are built over “golf tees” to help recharge spheres, as well as offload materials. The “golf tee” creates a vertical field, pushing a sphere up. The sphere is pulled down by gravity, allowing it to recharge its fissile core. Cores can only be recharged so much before they must be discarded.
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November 12, 2011
Cubes are recharged by parking them over “bent lines”, constructed of similar semisuperconducting materials. Cubes are more-quickly recharged when parked at a diagonal, but then a “cube building” (not shown) is required to prevent the cube from rotating to square.
CITY POWER SUPPLIES “Golf tees” and “bent tees” can also be used to generate power for cities. A “golf tee” needs a small power-planet to keep it spinning. Another power line is attached to extract power.
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November 12, 2011
“Bent lines” are different. An arch is constructed across the two lines. Power is extracted from the arch.
A deeply random thought The only way to educate the “entire” population of Earth is through the nightly-news broadcasts. How can people’s education be kept up to date with a standard highschool curriculum? What if our knowledge of chemistry changes so radically that everyone should know? “Nightly news” broadcasts don’t seem like the right place to educate people on such changes.
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November 12, 2011
CUBE AND SPHERE ATTACKS Spheres can be used to pull asteroids, planetoids, and moons, as previously described. Cubes can be used to disrupt planetary shields. Cubes and spheres can be combined into a “wall of cubes and spheres”:
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November 12, 2011 A “wall” can be used to “beam attack” a planet.
A “wall” can be used to pull a few rocks off the surface of a planet, and lots of rocks off a “dry” orbiting moon. Many of these rocks (the size of small cities) eventually fall into the planet in a meteor storm.
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November 12, 2011 If the “wall” is placed extradimensionally between two planets (that are themselves extradimensionally offset) then other strange attacks can occur.
HOW TO DESTROY RECHARGERS The spheres attacking our galaxy have travelled a long way, using most of their energy in the journey. If a sphere is allowed to recharge on a “golf tee”, they statistically are 4.8 times as deadly, when used in planetoid attacks. Therefore, all “golf tees” on Hominid controlled planets must be disabled (aka: destroyed). “Golf tees” can be disabled/destroyed in the following ways:
The local population can blow up portions of the ring (or “bent lines”) and prevent the ring from being patched.
Half-gigaton nukes produce deep-enough craters to destroy both the rings and bent lines.
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November 12, 2011 Spheres can be destroyed.
Other methods exist.
Cubes either need recharging on “bent lines”, which is slow, or they need to have replacement “worms” installed. Cubes can be prevented from recharging by:
Disabling/destroying the “bent lines”, as described above.
Destroying a planet’s supply of replacement “worms”.
Destroying the facilities used to manufacture replacement “worms”.
Cubes can be destroyed. They are often parked on the ground and used as mobile warehouses.
Other methods exist.
Destroying rechargers results in civilian losses:
The act of destroying rechargers also destroys city power supplies.
City power supplies often run desalinization plants, as well as the city’s water-pressure.
Since cities like to be near power supplies, the act of destroying rechargers often destroys/damages the city, and kills the people living there.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought My UFO-related photos:
http://www.disclosuree.com/PhotoArchive1.zip http://www.disclosuree.com/PhotoArchive2.zip http://www.disclosuree.com/PhotoArchive3.zip http://www.disclosuree.com/PhotoArchive4.zip
THE ANCIENT ART OF CONVERSATION (PART 2)
Don’t talk about friends and family unless everyone in the conversation knows them well.
In general, do not abuse people in conversations. If you verbally backstab someone, then your friends will wonder if they’re verbally backstabbed when they’re not present.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought De-escalation of a war by escalation – Warn the enemy about aggregious actions. Reply militarily with a greater than 1x response mulitple for aggregious actions, and indicate that military reply was because of the aggregious actions. Over time, add more offenses to the “aggregious actions” list. For example: Mistreatment of prisoners of war might be noted as an aggregious action that requires a stern response. “You killed and tortured 100 of our prisoners of war, so we’ll bomb-out one of your city blocks.”
WHAT IT’S LIKE TO RAISE A (KANGAROO/WALLABY-EVOLVED) JOEY PRE-POUCH
Many joeys are conceived after a heavy rain or good thunderstorm.
A week before birth, the mother’s pouch “ripens”. It thickens, moistens, and several teats enflame.
About a day before birth, mothers lose their appetite, as well as their urge to drink liquids.
Half an hour before birth, mothers can feel the pinky wiggling around. When they sit down and lean back for awhile, they feel the pinky crawl down their vagina and out their cloaca. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloaca)
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November 12, 2011 The pinky is embryo-like, 5 cm long, pink, hairless, and blind. Mothers clean it up and check it for birth defects.
They sometimes euthanize the pinky if it is the wrong gender (which is tricky to tell), or if its head and limbs aren’t the desired proportions.
If a mother has an infertile friend, or a friend without a “male”, they can give the pinky to them. Medicines help start their friend lactating.
The mother places the pinky in her pouch, helping it find a teat. Teats in the middle of the pouch are easiest to monitor, so the pinky is encouraged to suck on them.
A deeply random thought Soul grabber/detacher – A handheld device that fits onto the back of someone’s neck. It detaches their soul (if their body is dead), and can re-attach their soul to another body. Sells for $1995.95 at your local hardware store; includes two battery packs.
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November 12, 2011
NATURAL-POUCH STAGE
Once in their mother’s pouch, joeys grab onto a teat. As joeys get larger, teats first itch, and then begin to throb.
Small joeys wriggle around, although they aren’t ticklish. Occasionally, they get an urge to claw lightly at the wall of a mother’s pouch, which is uncomfortable.
Special tools are used to clean the joey’s waste out of the mother’s pouch.
Diarrhea is never good, and happens when a mother is stressed out, or the joey is out of the pouch too long.
Spicy food leads to diarrhea.
Pouches must be kept warm in winter.
Unfortunately, “pouch bashing” sometimes occurs. The joey usually needs to be euthanized after sustaining “pouch bashing” injuries.
Natural pouches are almost always covered by garments. Publicly exposing a natural pouch is considered extremely rude, akin to Hominids being naked in public.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Euthanisation by (heavy) medical-bots is currently not possible due to all the Great-Hominid-Empire bots being flown around Earth. They can easily interrupt the lengthy euthanisation process. Euthanisation is possible if The Great Hominid Empire isn’t watching the person, though.
SYNTHETIC-POUCH STAGE Before an infant is fully furred, he/she is moved into a synthetic pouch.
If a mother keeps the infant in her natural pouch longer, it will grow faster, BUT then her natural pouch will remain saggy forever. Saggy pouches are unsightly.
Automatic pouch-milkers can be purchased or rented. They provide milk, but have the annoying habit of turning on their pneumatic pumps at embarrassing times.
Synthetic milk is much better than what can be purchased on Earth, but not as good as the real milk. Half-synthetic and half-real milk often provides better results than whole-synthetic or whole-real. “Milk embargos and shortages” sometimes happen, causing the deaths of many infants.
A medium-technology synthetic pouch is thick, with a high thermal mass, and feels somewhat like “silicone squishy-balls”. They are slung over a mother’s shoulder. The pouch is flipped every hour to keep both sides of the infant warm. Synthetic teats connected to a milk reservoir are also included.
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November 12, 2011 A plastic zipper prevents the infant from jumping out and breaking their ankle.
Synthetic pouches can be plugged in for heat at night; they’re hung next to the mother.
Infants often have their ear tagged so they don’t get confused with other infants, or stolen. If two mothers aren’t sure if their infants are confused, they’ll find out later that night when both infants get diarrhea; in the event of any possible mix-up, phone-numbers are exchanged.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought I did a quick Facebook (www.Facebook.com) survey of what work my classmates were doing 20 years after graduating. People who attend Caltech have IQs of 140+, and are in the 99.6%+ intelligence range. An informal survey of their employers suggests what “geek-derived technologies” our contemporary society values the most.
The computer industry topped the list.
Followed by industrial/mechaincal/EE design, including aerospace and NASA.
Many should (theoretically) be in “classified” and “top secret” industries, military research and intelligence. They either can’t list their employer, or aren’t allowed to be on Facebook.
Many classmates listed no place of employment... so they may have either neglected the field, or they might be in the “top secret” industries.
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November 12, 2011
CANVAS-CAVE STAGE Once able to walk…
A “canvas cave” is set up next to their synthetic pouch. Canvas caves are similar to “dog tents” here.
When a tired/frightened toddler runs for his or her pouch, they sometimes “miss” and end up in the canvas cave. They feel safe enough in the cave.
Providing snacks and tippy-cup in the cave encourages them to spend their time in there.
The canvas cave must be set up in the mother’s bedroom. Never let anyone else enter the room, or the toddlers will stress out.
Toddlers half-hop, half-walk.
More-technological canvas caves include toddler-terminals.
About this time, technological toddlers are provided talking books that read to them when they touch the words. Children must be read to A LOT. Spoken language does NOT come naturally to them.
Biting is a huge problem.
Floor-based plants must be raised up or they will be eaten.
Carpeting is a horrendous idea. Hardwood floors work, but they’re slippery. Stairs are out.
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November 12, 2011
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES
Never tongue-click out “get in your pouch” in a room full of children. They will all run around madly trying to find their pouch, most of them stressing out when they find someone else already occupying their pouch.
Children must be watched at all times when in a crowd. They frequently follow the wrong mother. Back-leashes are used in public, since wristleashes are either chewed off, or taken off by the child.
Children urinate when their cloaca is stimulated, or when they see someone (like their mother) urinating. This is embarrassing in public toilets, since they don’t realize that they should urinate into the toilet, not next to it.
Children cannot be caught when they don’t want to be caught. Chasing after them in an open back yard will cause them to zigzag around, run into the forest, and hide. You won’t find them until later that night, when they start calling out. Diarrhea results.
Children cannot be caught indoors either. Rooms must have their doors shut to corral children into a catch-easy location.
Children have a habit of running through fly screen and glass doors.
Children run across the road without thinking.
Children like using mothers’ pouches as biological backpacks. Mothers don’t appreciate this.
Some children will bounce up and down on their tip-toes, ALL DAY.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought People participating in a war ALWAYS need to find ways to slow the war down, cool it down, and get their nation (and perhaps themselves) out of the war. If war participants DON’T do this, then the war is likely to escalate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_truce)
AWARENESS(?) DREAM (EARLY-AUGUST 2009) When I was at the mental institution, I had an interesting awareness(?) dream: I was lying on a wheeled hospital bed, facing skyward. I had just been wheeled out of a white-lit doorway (gateway) onto a sunless planet. (People often hide from wars on sunless planets because the planets don’t have much economic or military value.) My hospital bed was pushed down a pea-gravel path that wound its way to a cluster of small cottages. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Microsoft keychain, and a large ring… like a cylindrical metal napkin-ring.
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November 12, 2011 I haven’t been able to determine what the “napkin ring” was until now. It was a “soul limiter”. They can be placed around the neck of people’s soul, and higher up. When someone flies in a spaceplane, or their soul is detached from their dead body and transported on a spaceplane, the soul limiter automatically triggers due to the change in physics-constants pressurization. The soul-limiter tightens and “decapitates” a person’s soul… making them forget who they are, often permanently.
Soul limiters are commonly used on Earth.
A deeply random thought “Glow in the dark” babies are fun, until you grow up and are still “glow in the dark”.
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November 12, 2011
FAILURE TO PERCEIVE THE ELEPHANT (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blind_men_and_an_elephant) People Abductees
What they’re interested in... Why was I abducted? How do I not get abducted in the future, and/or how do I get abducted again? How do I tell my friends I have been abducted without sounding crazy to them.
Conspiracy theorists
Hominids (on Earth, but not from off-planet) are controlling a one-world secret government, or Saurians (from off-planet) are controlling a one-world secret government. Spaceplanes are created by the US military.
Furries
Furred “aliens”, soul/awareness mergers, concurrent lives, and awareness dreams. They don’t like spaceplanes.
Spiritualists
Telepathy, invisible cameras, souls/awarenesses, and awareness dreams. They don’t like any mention of technology.
UFO People
Spaceplanes, Saurians, and Greys, oh my! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wizard_of_Oz_(1939_film) )
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Lower-tech synthesized bodies don’t reproduce well, especially the male bodies.
MORE WAYS OF THINKING DEDUCTIVE PATTERN RECOGNITION #1 Example question: “Do aliens exist? Yes or no.” 1.
The mind is provided a few data points, often erroneous. The data supplied to address the example question: UFO photos on the internet, some of them fake. Lots of contactee and “UFO-ologist” testimony, much of it erroneous or completely incomplete.
2.
These data-points are compared against a handful of “answer” templates. The answer-templates are: “Aliens exist and are visiting Earth with their UFOs,” versus “Aliens don’t exist,” versus “The US military built their own UFOS and is flying them around.”
3.
The mind determines which template is most-likely correct. The numbers returned by the mind: Aliens exist = 80%. Aliens don’t exist = 10%. US military = 10%.
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November 12, 2011 4. The best answer-template is fine-tuned by brainstorming variations. Brainstormed: If aliens exist (80%), then fine-tune hypothesize that “The aliens are visiting and watching us because of a research project,” or “The aliens are thinking about invading.” Oops... I forgot a hypothesis: “There’s a war brewing between non-Hominid and Hominid aliens.”
A deeply random thought Why the space shuttle doesn’t prove the Earth is round – Barring the severalhundred people that have flown in the space shuttle, all WE get are lowresolution black-and-white videos that can be faked with a few plastic models, and 1980’s computer-graphics technology.
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November 12, 2011
DEDUCTIVE PATTERN RECOGNITION #2 Example question: “What is going on?” 1.
Many spurious points of data are observed over time. This deductive pattern recognizer works much better if the data is NOT erroneous. Data: The wild wallaroos near my house disappear for a few days at a time, once every three months. I have strange dreams about flying in oddly-shaped airplanes coincident with the wallaroos’ disappearance. Feral pigs recently wandered by in the middle of the night.
2.
There are no templates… or rather, there are thousands of already-learned templates. Templates: “Dingoes are in the area, scaring the wallaroos away.” “The wild wallaroos’ failure to appear is stochastically bursty.” “People are wandering in the bush behind my house, scaring away the wallaroos.” Etcetera.
3.
The best-matching templates are magically “identified”. The answer: When I’m abducted, the abduction commotion scares away the wallaroos for a few days, and soon after, I have “repressed-memory” dreams.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Illuminati card game – Excellent for conspiracy theorists. The Gnomes of Zurich control everything. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illuminati_(game) )
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 2) GALAGO PALM-TREE HOUSE
Featuring:
Plant palm trees twenty years before building the house
Stucco interior
Curvilinear staircase
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought What if “American-like” English is the language spoken by some off-planet Hominids on their homeworlds? Their immigration into the US over the last hundred years, along with their influence over radio/movies/TV, could have changed the “American” English accent heard in the 1930’s, to the American English of the 1980’s, and into 2010. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Jazz_Singer_(1927_film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honeymooners, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Some_like_it_hot)
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November 12, 2011
“GREY” HOME
Featuring:
Natural materials
Open-plan living
Barbeque
No generator
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A randomly deep thought After people’s souls are tranferred into new bodies, their telepathy may not work well for a few weeks to a few months.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINID “GLASS” APARTMENTS
Featuring:
Frosted-glass bathroom
Right next to a freeway
Right over a parking lot
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Philanthropy to help a community: Rather than build and sell McHouses with the expectation of a 10% profit, build and sell quality architectural houses with an expected 10% loss.
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November 12, 2011
ANCIENT-RED-PLANET FIXER-UPPER BUNGALOW
Featuring:
Steel cabana to keep the rain out – Completely rusted out.
Dust/rain catch-all entrance – Needs shoveling out.
Light strings – Need replacing.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Story mode – A real-life “Choose Your Own Adventure” book where, if you DON’T make a choice, the second-best choice is automatically chosen for you. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_your_own_adventure)
THE PROBLEM WITH “TI ME SPHERES” RUNNING AWAY IN A “TIME SPHERE” Some spaceplanes (often spherical) can extradimensionally push themselves in a way that, for them, outside time travels much more quickly. From the outside, people in the spaceplane move much more slowly. When activated, a “time sphere” spaceplane vanishes for weeks, to years, to decades. It reappears in the same place (relative to a gravity source) much later. To the people inside the spaceplane, little time has passed. This is a time-tested way to “run away”. People that reappear “Rip Van Winkle”-like 20 years later, have usually been forgotten about… hopefully… for them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rip_Van_Winkle) The inverse technology also exists, letting people in spaceplanes and encounter suits move very quickly compared to the rest of the universe. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrt41Ziz71c&feature=related) 2295 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Some walking cats weigh down their tails with jewelry so their flowing tails don’t expose their emotional state.
BACK/FORWARD-PROPAGATING SIGNALS Once in a “time sphere” spaceplane and extradimensionally-pushed into “slow motion”, backward/forward time-propagating signals are easier to reach. Rather than travelling in X, Y, and Z, these signals travel in T… with very little propagation in X, Y, and Z. The further a signal travels in space/time, the less coherent it is (as per quaternion EMR), and the weaker it becomes relative to background noise. Simply put, passengers in a “time sphere” can send messages into the past (and/or future), and receive messages from the future (and/or past). Time spheres are dangerous. People travelling in them often die… particularly since some people intensely dislike time spheres. People can detect the time spheres, and easily destroy them, since their crew must defend against the attack while they are reacting in “slow motion”.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The thinking part of the soul is called “the mind”.
TIME-SPHERE PROBES Small time-sphere probes can also monitor the back/forward time-propagating signals. They can’t go as “deep” into the “slow motion”, so they are often limited to looking forward/backwards a few days.
A deeply random thought What do you WANT to do? What do your WANT to WANT to do? What personality do you have? What personality do you WANT to have?
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November 12, 2011
WANDERING PLANETS Wandering/flying planets can generate an enormous amount of energy. They can be exactly positioned in space, relative to a major gravity source. Their massive energy can be used to send time-propagating signals much further into the past than time-sphere spaceplanes. Their signals are then received several years BEFORE they were sent. This might be as long as a thousand years. War-zones are often littered with backwards time-propagating signals decades before the war happens… which also produces a self-fulfilling prophecy. If a war is prophesized to happen in 2012, then we’re going to make sure to be prepared for the war if it might happen, which in turn causes everyone else to arm themselves, which means those weapons need to be used some-when, perhaps starting in 2009.
A randomly deep thought We do NOT steal brains... very often.
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November 12, 2011
HOW TO PREDICT THE FUTURE (AND LEVERAGE IT TO THE HILT) Predicting the future using wandering planets and time-spheres is akin to purchasing stocks on credit (derivatives) based on hot insider-trading stock-market tips. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derivative_(finance), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Insider_trading) You can make an awful lot of money. Or you can lose everything. If enough people are interested in a future event, someone will inevitably “rig the market” by sending misleading (but true-sounding) backwards time-propagating signals. Losing to a rigged market while playing with derivatives means you lose big-time.
A deeply random thought A pool of methane can trigger an eye of a cyclone. Cyclones can be used as weapons.
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November 12, 2011
A LONG-LONG TIME AGO, IN A TAUROSPHERE NOT FAR AWAY... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars_opening_crawl
A LONG-LONG TIME AGO, IN A TAUROSPHERE NOT FAR AWAY...
200 million years ago – A race of “reptiloids” tried to occupy an entire taurosphere all by themselves, resulting in a mono-racial technological population throughout the taurosphere. Genetic modification and breeding led to variations of the mono-race, such as tall versions, thin versions, brainy versions, etcetera. The results were dangerously-limited racial “ecology” with little diversity.
115 million years ago – As a backlash, no mono-racial taurosphere-sized empires were allowed... which was also a problem. Mono-racial empires spanning a taurosphere have advantages, so long as they are no more than 1% - 10% of the total population. More theoretically: Governments and societies should vary in ideology. Some should be multi-racial, while others are mono-racial. Some should be more authoritarian while others should be more open. Different wealth/power distribution philosophies should also exist. This is called a balanced ecology of metaorganisms.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINIDS LIVING AT T HE TOP OF THE MAP
50,000 – 1000 years ago – The Hominids (from the top of the map) were maltreated by “reptiloids” living there. As a consequence of a prolonged period of conflict, both cultures turned violent, and even sadistic, towards one another. (See my earlier comments about Moral Decay).
1000 years ago – The “reptiloids” intentionally cooled down their attacks on Hominids. They did so with the expectation that the Hominids couldn’t organize well enough to reduce their attacks.
500 years ago – The Hominids didn’t reciprocate the cool-down. The local non-Hominids decided to kick the still-belligerent Hominids out of their taurosphere.
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November 12, 2011 The Hominids were offered a “burnt out” section, where many of the planets had been destroyed (radioactive and/or planetoided) in a war between the Hominids and other races, as well as previous wars not involving Hominids.
2000 – 0 years ago – The Hominids began migrating to this taurosphere. Being more intelligent, and wielding better technology than this taurosphere’s indigenous Hominids, their morally-decayed culture and overmodified genetics dominated. The immigrant Hominids were NOT given permission to enter this taurosphere in large numbers. Feeling set upon, and with little choice (as they saw it), the migrating Hominids entered this taurosphere illegally in large numbers.
A randomly deep thought “Greys” are like Apple Computer. They build their own proprietary technology. Many other races use replaceable standard parts in their spaceplanes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple_computer)
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November 12, 2011
HOMINIDS LIVING AT T HE LOWER-LEFT CORNER OF THE MAP
10,000 years ago – The Hominids, Nor, Alotians, “Greys”, and a few others, succeeded in creating a quad-racial taurosphere.
10,000 – 0 years ago – The quad-racial metaorganism has had serious wars with non-Hominids/Nor/Alotians in nearby taurospheres.
Present – The Hominids are now migrating into this taurosphere. They are teaming up with the beset/fleeing Hominids (from the top of the map), intending to expand their metaorganism into this taurosphere. The invading Hominids may be being chased out of their taurosphere. The metaorganism they are creating in this taurosphere is turning out to be a mono-racial Hominid-only metaorganism.
A deeply random thought Most disclosed Hominids in the Great Hominid Empire are uneducated about much of the information in this document, such as death regimes, the nature of the soul, and about non-Hominid races and cultures.
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November 12, 2011
ALL HOMINIDS Other Hominid centres in distant taurospheres:
Other Hominid civilizations have various levels of friendliness towards nonHominids. Most tend to be mono-racial.
They seem to be taking tentative steps towards co-invading this taurosphere along with the currently-invading Hominids.
Some general comments about all Hominids:
Some “races” have encouraged the Hominids to form a mono-racial society for theoretical/practical metaorganism-ecology reasons.
Hominids (in general) have been taken advantage by the older races, by enslaving them, and/or using them as low-wage manufacturers and manual labourers. They also con the Hominids into doing illegal activities, such as invading planets of “primitives”.
The median IQ of Hominids has dropped (except for indigenous Hominids here) over the millennium. The decline is partially because the Hominids are being “rolled back” externally, and partially because of their own breeding and genetic modifications.
Hominid peak-technology is being rolled-back externally, while at the same time, high-tech Hominids are distributing more of their peak technology to less-intelligent segments of the Hominid population in order to stave off attacks by non-Hominids.
Hominids know that non-Hominids are either taking advantage of them or pushing them around, and consequently the mistrust non-Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINIDS FROM THIS TAUROSPHERE
Hominids in this taurosphere have been on a partially-racist “slow-bake plan” because of prior negative experience with “Nordics”.
4000 years ago – Local saurians (and others) expanded their empires, taking over many primitive Hominid planets. The invasions and atrocities have not been forgotten by the indigenous Hominids.
2000 years ago – When immigrant Hominids from other taurospheres began arriving, indigenous Hominids here were still primitives. The Hominid immigrants took over the indigenous Hominids’ societies, boosted their technology, and either genocided or interbred with them. The diversity of Hominid personalities and cultures has diminished as a consequence.
400 years ago – Non-Hominids had a major war with the Hominids, many of them immigrant-descended.
250 – 150 years ago – The Hominids made plans to invade this section of the taurosphere, as well as tentative plans to take over the entire taurosphere. These plans caused a “land run”, where the right to invade planets was auctioned off, somewhat like a holiday-home “time shares”. Earth, being a valuable planet, has been sold more times than the Brooklyn Bridge. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_share, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooklyn_Bridge)
70 years ago – The “land run” gained momentum. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Land_Run_of_1893)
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November 12, 2011 20 years ago – The Hominid planets in the Orion Spur were warned not to continue importing Hominids and colonizing planets.
17 years ago – Planning of another invasion sweep of the local cluster began.
6 years ago – Just below and to the right of here (on the taurosphere sketch above), war broke out with the Hominids (and a few other races). The section is very war-ravaged.
3 – 0 years ago – Some nearby galaxies have decivilized all of their Hominids.
1 year ago – War erupted in the local cluster of galaxy clusters.
A randomly deep thought Everyone likes the Greys... thanks to Steven Spielberg. Only furries want to talk to the “animal people”. The saurians and arthropods haven’t paid publicists enough money... so they had to settle for me. And only Tim Burton works for the Cthulhuoids. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Spielberg, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Burton)
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November 12, 2011
WAR STATISTICS (WRITTEN 10/10/2010) INVASION
The Main Hominid Zone continues to send militaries to our cluster of galaxy clusters. Approximately 1/2 of the incoming military vessels are destroyed or disabled on the way here. Approximately 2/3 of their already-inadequate food shipments are destroyed. More food shipments than troop-transports are destroyed because (a) food is shipped on slower and less-protected transport, and (b) weapons are included in the food shipments. Troops/armies in the early invasion waves are expected to fail. Approximately 1/4 of the invading Hominid armies are from sub-Empires that the main Empire wishes to fail... because they might break away from the main Empire when/if war erupts in the Main Hominid Zone. Approximately 1/8 of the armies are from “failed” subEmpires that are incompetent or too dictatorial for the Main Hominid Zone. Having these sub-Empires’ troops sent here weakens their governments, enabling a “friendly” invasion from other sub-Empires in the Main Hominid Zone. 2307 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought If you are a public figure and have a predictable personality that is publicly known, then someone will eventually figure out how to control you through your personality. Public figures often have to change their personalities, as well as their geographic locations, to prevent people from seeking them out and controlling them. For example: If you are a public figure and are known to give to children’s charities, someone will invent a fake children’s charity that “calls out to you”.
TIPPING POINT FOR DE-CIVILIZATION 15% of Milky Way’s Hominid population has been killed in the war so far. The Hominid military has planetoided 150 planets in the Milky Way, and seriously nuked 800. 4000 planets have had “millions” nuked. Non-Hominids have planetoided 8 Hominid planets, and seriously nuked 40, in the Milky Way. In Main Hominid Zone, militaries from this cluster of galaxy clusters (approximately) have destroyed 19 solar systems, and 1200 planets, in retaliation for the Hominid’s attacks here. The Milky Way is approximately 1/500th the population of this cluster of galaxy clusters. Attacks to rescue hostages have also taken place.
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November 12, 2011
OCCUPATION OF NON-HOMINID PLANETS BY HOMINIDS Settlers and military have landed and occupied 1600+ planets throughout the nearby Orion Spur. They genocide the local “primitives”, and use the planets for bases to attack other planets, using spaceplanes and/or kill/venom-bots. Attack-aggressiveness and immorality statistics are kept on individual settler/military cities/camps. The most egregious cities/camps are being killed off by non-Hominids, providing others Hominid cities/camps a chance to reduce their war activities. Food shipments (beans and canned meat) are being used by The Great Hominid Empire as an incentive for settler/military cities/camps who perform well militarily. Only Hominid military, usually from the invading Hominids, and occasionally the wealthy, can get on/off settler planets.
A randomly deep thought One Great-Hominid-Empire plan scheduled disclose to Earth’s wealthiest in 2020, after the Milky Way would had been mostly occupied.
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November 12, 2011
MAJOR HOMINID PLANETS
Map of the Milky Way showing some of the major disclosed Hominid planets, plus Earth. 12(?) major disclosed Hominid planets exist, in total.
The most egregious (with overly-aggressive and/or immoral attacks) major Hominid-planets are being seriously attacked first, allowing others time to reduce their war activities. One egregious Hominid planet was recently attacked with four 1-gigaton bombs. Only Hominid military, usually from the invading Hominids, and occasionally the wealthy, can get on/off major planets.
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November 12, 2011
NON-AGGRESSIVE HOMINIDS The Great Hominid Empire is heavy-handed with Hominid planets that don’t participate in the war. A possible consequence not participating is a “friendly invasion” by The Great Hominid Empire... and perhaps a civil war on the planet. Many Hominid planets are trying to “sit on the fence”, not wanting to be attacked by the non-Hominids, nor considered delinquents/traitors by The Great Hominid Empire.
A randomly deep thought Egg and sperm collection from abductees while they’re in UFOs – This abduction trope can be attributed to $$$. Some people’s eggs/sperm are valuable, particularly to galaxies trying to produce friendlier, more-intelligent, more-creative Hominids.
HOSTAGES Hominid militaries have been taking hostages and/or prisoners of war. They often transport them into the main Hominid Zone. A policy seems to be in place where civilian Hominids fleeing to the Main Hominid Zone must arrive with hostages/prisoners for bargaining purposes. Another policy 2311 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 might allow Hominids to exchange non-Hominid hostages/prisoners for members of their family kept “in escrow” by The Great Hominid Empire. People fear the hostages/prisoners will be tortured, or sent to Cut-‘em-up people who analyse their technology and DNA. Fears exist that people might be kept hostage/prisoner for years, to decades, to hundreds of years. They might have their souls memory-wiped, and then forcibly transplanted into Hominid bodies, so that they unknowingly work for The Great Hominid in future lives. Since no-one wants this to happen to themselves, militaries are adamant about hostage/prisoner rescue. Since non-Hominid militaries cannot efficiently rescue the hostages’ living bodies, they are only rescuing their souls. Spaceplanes with hostages/prisoners are chased down and destroyed. The souls of hostages/prisoners are then recovered and placed into new bodies. If hostages are taken all the way into the Main Hominid Zone, militaries sometimes attack the prisoner and concentration camps where the hostages are kept. Such attacks enrage the Hominid planets there, and accelerate the war.
A randomly deep thought Mammalian races with a higher rate of alcoholism are often more creative.
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November 12, 2011
RETAKING HOMINID PLANETS As more Hominid planets are retaken, people are experiencing something similar to what happened when US soldiers retook Germany and Poland. They are discovering atrocities that they didn’t know existed, such as concentration camps. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auschwitz_concentration_camp) The more Hominid-planets that are retaken, the more degeneration the nonHominids uncover:
War (externally-oppressive metaorganism) o o o
Weapons are everywhere. Concentration camps exist. Hominids everywhere are employed in “crowd control” of nonHominids and/or undisclosed Hominid planets.
Internally-oppressive metaorganism o o o
o o o
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Hominids are being kept ignorant, both by the Hominid media and their Hominid education system. Hominids tend to have a highly-stratified caste-based society. Hominids that do not want to be part of The Great Hominid Empire either cannot escape, or they are ignorant of the alternatives. There are mass graves of Hominids... and non-Hominids, indicating pogroms. Non-Hominid slavery is sometimes practiced. Soul slaves (see below) have been found, enslaved for hundreds of years. After the war, non-Hominid governments will wish to evacuate some people from Hominid planets. These include (nonHominid) hostages and slaves, soul hostages, and skilled Hominids wishing to live in a multiracial environment.
November 12, 2011 Mismanagement o o o
Resource overutilization. Environmental destruction. Hominids have genetically-modified and bred themselves to their detriment.
A deeply random thought We are living in Kamchatka. Our cluster of galaxy clusters is at a hyperdimensional crossroads, like Kamchatka is in the game, Risk. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Risk_(game))
WAR FORECAST FIRE-FRONT As Hominid militaries continue to pour into our cluster of galaxy clusters, the war “fire-front” is expected to slowly spread out in all directions (more than threedimensional). Each successive invasion fleet must land further and further away from the core of the invasion site, due to the non-Hominid militaries protecting the clusters, lack of friendly sphere/cube chargers in the clusters, and the lack of food in the area. 2314 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
INVASION “SHOCK TROOPS” Hominids settlers and military personnel from the Main Hominid Zone appear to have been transported to the “Early colonies” (as shown in a previous image) as well as other concentrations in this taurosphere. One hypothesized use for them is that the Hominids from other Taurospheres will fly military spaceplanes and weapons to the “Early colonies” and other Hominid settler concentrations. The spaceplanes could pick up the colonists/military and deposit them on civilized non-Hominid planets, using them as “shock troops”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shock_troops) If this is the case, then the settlers/military in the Hominid colonies in the Milky Way and nearby galaxies might also be given weapons and flown to neighbouring civilized planets to help invade them. Approximately 3-5 billion Hominids are occupying 1600 “primitives” planets in the local Orion Spur.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought “Hybrid” Grey-Hominids are commonly mentioned in abductee tales. While Hybrid Grey-Hominids maybe perhaps could possibly exist, all of the “sightings” are misattributed:
Nordics and some Hominids – Nordics and some Hominids look sufficiently different to Homo Sapiens that they might be mistaken as “hybrids”.
Alotians and Anthune – These mostly-bald races are separated from us by approximately 10 million years, and much genetic modification.
Tikreet – More closely-related to “greys”, they look like “greys” with “hair”. “Greys” are Tikreet are genetically separated from us by approximately 500-million years.
Nor – They have Hominid-like limb proportions, short white fur, often sparse, and an almost-Hominid face (particularly if you’re on abduction memory-loss drugs). Their mane is sometimes cut and combed into a hairlike shape; it is often dyed black, blue, or pink.
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November 12, 2011
FASHION (PART 3) YHM (PRONOUNCE YAH-HEEM) FASHION
Yhm are an earlier offshoot from Australopithecus than Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
SAURIAN-PANTHER (PERSON)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Individuals who fight in a war for more than a year often become vicious. It is in the best interests of an a warring side to let their enemy bring in fresh troops and let the year-old troops leave. Failure to do so accelerates the war... “Hell! Just nuke the entire planet; I haven’t seen my children for two years, and can’t get home to see them until this war is over.”
MORE WAYS OF THINKING... “QUANTUM THINKI NG” According to Quantum Mechanics, you never know where an electron (or particle) is. Rather, you know, at best, the probability of a particle being in a certain location. This effect is derived from the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantum_mechanics, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heisenberg_uncertainty_principle)
In “quantum thinking”, knowledge is uncertain:
You don’t know anything for certain.
The further away something is (in space), the less observable it is, and the less certain it is. For example: If Bob is standing near you and wearing a red shirt, you are 99.9% certain that Bob is wearing a red shirt. But if he is 10 kilometres away
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November 12, 2011 talking to you on a camera-phone, you might see a video image of him wearing a red shirt, but you are less certain of the “red shirt” observation. Video is easier to fake.
The further back in time, the less observable and certain an observation is. For example: 80-million year-old dinosaur bones in Utah imply that a dinosaur died there, but you never know... the bones could have been carefully placed there by someone 80-million years ago, to make it look like a dinosaur died on the spot.
The same can be said about looking forward in time.
Consequences of actions are uncertain:
Your actions cause reasonably-predictable effects on objects near to you in both time and space. For example: If you pick up a glass vase and drop it, the vase is likely to shatter.
Your actions in the present have less measurable and reliable effects over a distance. Dropping the glass vase will scare a nearby cat, but may not measurably and predictably affect the world 1000 meters away. The nearby cat might make a terrified dash for 100 meters, run into another cat’s territory, and get into a fight with it. The other cat might lose, flee to some safety 100 meters further away, only to be chased by a dog sleeping there. The dog might get bored with the chase, and stop by a nearby friendly-Hominid’s house for some apple pie. Etcetera. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butterfly_effect)
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November 12, 2011
Your actions have larger effects on the far future than the near future, but the effects are less predictable. Dropping a glass vase has unknown consequences 100 years from now. Shattered vases end up at the dump, not at an antiques auction, where they could brighten someone’s day, or end up in a museum.
Likewise, your actions have larger effects on the far past. If you destroy the dinosaur bones you found in Utah before anyone sees them, then that species of dinosaur may have never existed on Earth.
Quantum entanglement: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantum_entanglement)
If you cut down one oak tree, then all oak trees (particularly those nearby) are affected, not necessarily in noticeable or predictable ways.
If you cut down one oak tree, then all trees (particularly those nearby) are affected, much less noticeably and predictably.
Simultaneous potentially-conflicting states:
You never know what “state” you’re in. You don’t really know if Bob is wearing a red shirt, or you just mistook the colour, or if he also wears a blue shirt underneath, etc.
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November 12, 2011 The past is NOT linear. The state you’re in has multiple “pasts”, all of which result in a world that matches your currently known state. These form roots of a tree.
The future is NOT linear. There are multiple futures. These form branches of a tree.
As you more-accurately identify what state you’re in, your future-branches and past-roots change. Therefore, two people who appear to be living in the same world but with different knowledge about the world, can be in different states, with different future-branches and past-roots.
Future-branches sometimes droop below the past-root levels, or vice versa. Sometimes the future affects the past, particularly at a distance, where the past and present are intermingled.
Decisions:
To the unintelligent, only one state exists. Bob either is wearing a red shirt or not.
People with more intelligence make decisions based on the most probable state. If Bob has a 99% of wearing a red shirt, then saying, “I like your RED shirt”, is a reasonable decision.
If the likelihood of a state is ambiguous enough, then people often reobserve the state. Re-observing changes the object. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heisenberg_uncertainty_principle)
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November 12, 2011 If the probability of Bob having a red shirt is only 90%, then you might take another look at Bob before commenting on his red shirt. Taking a look at Bob makes him wonder why you took another look, changing your observed state.
Rather than re-observe, you can hedge decisions to maximize the outcome based on the more-likely states. If Bob has a 90% of wearing a red shirt, then say, “I like your shirt,” instead of “I like your RED shirt.”
Decisions can be made to eliminate/marginalize a state, making the state so unlikely that it can be ignored. Simplistically, re-observing accomplishes this... but there are more clever solutions. More cleverly: If you remember to spill ink on Bob’s non-Red shirts a few days ago, then he’s bound to be wearing a red shirt today... unless the Time Cops interfered.
There’s more, but I won’t go into the other issues now.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Another interesting site: http://www.alienjigsaw.com/. One of Kay Wilson’s books is available online: http://www.alienjigsaw.com/The_Books/I_Forgot_What_I_Wasn't_Supposed_to_Re member.pdf
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 3) BUBBLE RESTAURANT
Featuring:
Private dining in a shatterproof “plexiglass” bubble.
Dumbwaiter to deliver food from the kitchen above.
Spiral-staircase access to the dining bubble.
Takeaway kiosk in the arcade below. Elevation of a column
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought If Earth’s leaders were thinking a few generations ahead, they wouldn’t make the most intelligent/creative/hardworking people work 12 hours a day... resulting in only 1.56 children per college-educated couple. To encourage procreation, such couples could have shorter working-hours, and perhaps subsidized nannies. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fertility_and_intelligence)
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November 12, 2011
SOULS (PART 4) TRANSPLANTS
The wiggly/wormlike bits of a soul are called “wands” or “leaves”. Some of the leaves act like digestive/circulatory organs in the body. Others, “mind”-leaves, are used for both thinking and memory storage, to varying proportions. With sufficient technology, soul leaves can be transplanted from one person to another. When a three-dimensional body dies, organs and limbs can be harvested from the dead body and transplanted into/onto living people. Ethical organ donation occurs after someone has died naturally or by accident... not by being murdered by someone working for the organ-bank. Soul leaves can also be harvested.
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November 12, 2011 When someone (on Earth) dies, the following “soul-leaf harvesting” activities have occurred:
Not quite soul-leaf harvesting, but people’s mind-leaves can be severely injured before their soul is re-attached to a toddler. This prevents/hinders them from remembering past lives.
Their mind-leaves can be transplanted into other people (on other planets), boosting those people’s intelligence and knowledge. Mind-leaves often come with the original person’s awareness attached, leading to the merger of the recently-dead person’s awareness with the recipient’s awareness. More ethically, people whose souls are so damaged that their soul cannot survive (by accidental injury or war), have their surviving mind-leaves and awareness grafted onto someone’s healthy soul.
Organ-leaves can likewise be harvested, often partially, similar to transplanting one (out of two) kidneys, or half of a person’s liver. More ethically, if a severely-injured soul is going to have their remaining mind-leaves and awareness grafted into someone else, their surviving organ-leaves can be transplanted into souls whose equivalent organ-leaf is severely injured.
Leaves can be split and allowed to regrow, similar to cloning and propagating tree cuttings. This technique explains why so many people think they were Cleopatra in a past life; her memories could have been divided amongst many people. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cleopatra_VII).
Soul “sperm and eggs” can also be harvested.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought In the 1980’s, US laws requiring a social security number before someone can be legally employed made it more difficult for illegal-immigrant Mexicans to find jobs. They also made it more difficult for newly-arriving off-planet Hominids to find jobs, discouraging off-planet immigration to the US. In the 2000’s, US laws requiring a passport to travel to Canada and Mexico made it more difficult for terrorists to enter the country. They also made it more difficult for newly-arriving off-planet Hominids to leave the US, discouraging offplanet immigration to the US.
SOUL (AND AWARENESS) SLAVES Earth nations and corporations practice “brain drain”, where they actively recruit the most intelligent and most able people from a competitor. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brain_drain) “Soul drain,” resulting in “soul slavery”, is also possible: 1.
Capture/abduct someone who has a valuable soul... intelligent, creative, unusual thinker, etc.
2.
Severely injure their mind-leaves so they forget who they are, but try to leave their “thinking” and “reasoning” intact.
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November 12, 2011 3.
Kill their body.
4.
Transplant their soul into a new body, preferably a toddler.
5.
Grow the person up in your culture. If all goes well, they will become “top performers” who happily work for your society. Since they won’t remember their past life and abduction, they won’t resent their “soul slavery”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery)
6.
When/if people remember who they were, and that they were abducted, euthanize their body and repeat the process. Eventually, they no longer remember who they were, and are happily ignorant of their abduction/slavery.
“Soul slavery” has been practiced on Hominid planets, as well as others. Some soul hostages have been on earth 400 years (or more), the time of the last major conflict, when many non-Hominid hostages were captured and enslaved.
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November 12, 2011
SOUL “LEVELS”
An inaccurate portrayal of “levels” of the soul. Souls are more diverse, have more branches, and spread out a lot more than illustrated.
Simplistically and erroneously, someone’s soul can be thought of as bunches of bananas, each bunch at a different “level”. People that have their souls attacked, by war or assassination, often receive damage to lower portions of their soul. Consequently, they learn to rely more on higher portions of their soul. This causes them to think and remember differently than people with intact lower souls. Someone’s first major attack often kills off their lower soul “level”, producing a period of amnesia, with some permanent memory loss. Their personality also 2331 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 changes. Since communication between someone’s higher “levels” and their body are more distant, their physical reaction times slow. Similar injuries happen if a person is transported too quickly in a spaceplane, especially when littered with soul-limiters. To a skilled telepath, people relying on lower souls “feel” different than those relying on higher souls. In part, this is a consequence of communication and information implants being scattered throughout all levels of people’s soul.
A deeply random thought A “dragon” is (in part) a person with:
An extensive soul, including hundreds-of-thousands of years of memories and reasoning organs.
The term “dragon” is used negatively, with the following connotations:
They secretly changes bodies.
They hide the fact that they’re a dragon.
They use their extensive knowledge and intelligence in a greedy and oppressive manner.
Other negative actions and connotations exist but are not mentioned here.
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November 12, 2011
“BEFRIEND-A-HOMINID” PROGRAM Over a decade ago, a personality “dating service” was contracted to find compatible non-Hominid friends to 500+ people on Earth (as well as other non-disclosed Hominid planets). Non-Hominid biography databases and subconsciously-given personality-tests were used. This program was begun as part of a treaty to prevent a war between Hominids and non-Hominids... this war.
The disclosed Hominids supported the “befriend-a-Hominid” program because:
It was a good-will gesture, potentially leading to the befriended Hominids being flown off Earth at some point; Many non-Hominids like helping friendly Hominids escape from The Great Hominid Empire.
If influential non-Hominids were befriended to some of Earth’s Hominids, non-Hominids would be less-likely to attack/destroy Earth.
Befriended Hominids on Earth could be used as intermediaries with disclosed Hominids.
They could also be used as hostages.
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November 12, 2011 For the non-Hominids this program meant:
They might be able to rescue a Hominid.
They would have close contact with Hominids. Hominid planets (disclosed and non-disclosed) are as opaque as North Korea. No-one really knows what’s happening on them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_korea)
A deeply random thought What happens to the smartest, most creative, and most risk-taking Homo Sapiens on Earth if: a)
“Aliens” move onto Earth in the millions? The brightest Homo Sapiens will move to wherever the “aliens” are living.
b) “Aliens” disclose, but decide not to live on Earth? The brightest Homo Sapiens will leave the planet. c)
“Aliens” are unable to disclose, but wish to “brain drain” the Earth? Many of the brightest Homo Sapiens will be abducted; they might pretend to “move to another city” and disappear off the planet while camping in the desert.
d) “Aliens” are unable to clandestinely abduct people that wish to leave Earth? The bodies of the brightest Homo Sapiens will be euthanized, and their souls will be moved to another planet, most-likely placed in non-Hominid bodies. The “brightest” Homo Sapiens are approximately 10% of Earth’s population, overlapping with the science-fiction and fantasy audiences.
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November 12, 2011
REVISED LIST OF WHY CONTACTEES CAN’T BE TAKEN OFF EARTH Here is a revised list of why contactees can’t be taken off Earth:
Bots – Copious bots, already parked on Earth, can spy on contactees, alerting the Great Hominid Empire of any plans for contactees to escape. The bots can also interfere with spaceplane rescues in various ways.
Best technology – Many people’s best technology can get contactees off the planet, but they don’t wish to use their best technology in front of the Hominids (whom they’re fighting), or even their current allies (who they might fight in the future) unless absolutely necessary.
Best technology – If a contactee is removed from Earth using best technology (or a limo-UFO), then the Hominids (and others) think, “They MUST be important.” This information is entered into their databases, and the “important” contactee is a potential hostage for years.
Don’t attract attention – The Great Hominid Empire is currently busy blowing up someone else’s planets. Bodily taking contactees off Earth might draw the empire’s unwanted attention towards Earth.
Contactees not in dire straits – There is a war going on. Helping contactees escape is dangerous for both the contactees and the people helping them escape. If the contactees aren’t in dire straits, then it’s more convenient to leave them on Earth.
Fairness – A debate amongst neutral non-Hominids: If non-Hominids take contactees off Earth, shouldn’t they also be willing to take stranded offplanet Hominids off? If they take off-planet Hominids off Earth, where do they put them? How much will the off-planet Hominids tell their governments about the technology used to help them off? (The same issues apply to contactees, but less so.)
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November 12, 2011 Interacting with Earth Hominids –Earth is as difficult to “penetrate” as North Korea. Once non-Hominids have a friendly and competent Hominid talking to them from Earth, they don’t really want to take the person away... particularly since contactees come with free E-mail and world-wide-web access.
Non-Hominid “observers” in spaceplanes might be secretly contracted out to The Great Hominid Empire – They could easily interfere any escape attempt.
Proof – Contactees that just disappear (or even die) provide slightly more evidence to counter Earth’s fundamental non-disclosure premise... that it’s impossible to travel to other stars, and that “aliens” can’t exist, because if they did, they would already be here.
Safety after escape – After escaping from the planet, Earth Hominids are still hunted down by The Great Hominid Empire, for assassination or kidnapping. For empire media reasons, people that escape Earth are aggressively hunted down if they still wear their Hominid bodies. Multiracial-friendly Hominids appearing on interplanetary television discussing their society’s ignorance of the larger galactic community are bad press.
Souls are easier to get off – Since someone’s body is likely to die in the process of being taken off Earth, and they’re more likely to be hunted down by the Hominids if they’re in a Hominid body, pulling people’s souls off (and leaving their body behind) is easier and safer, but still dangerous.
Soul injury – Any form of quick or secretive removal can result in contactees’ souls being severely injured.
Treaty, legal action – Parties can take legal action to keep/delay contactees from being legally removed from the planet.
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November 12, 2011 Treaty, multiracial – A treaty may exist amongst non-Hominids about the multiracial status of Earth. Mono-racial planets must make it difficult for citizens to switch to a multiracial world; if they don’t, all of the multiracial people quickly leave, and the mono-racial society eventually becomes extremely racist.
Treaty, process – People are trying to set up a process for getting contactees (and soul slaves) off Hominid planets. Ad hoc one-at-a-time escapes don’t help the creation of the process.
Treaty, soul detaching – A treaty may exist amongst non-Hominids about when it’s legal to euthanize people and disconnect their soul from their body.
Treaty, technology level – Treaties about what technology levels can be used on or Earth exist. Using “best” technology to help a contactee escape might be illegal.
Weapons satellites from the Great Hominid Empire – They can shoot down dematerializing spaceplanes, if they see them. High-tech dematerializing spaceplanes are more difficult to spot and destroy, but many races don’t wish to expose their best technology.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought “Religions” based on evolution – On Earth, conservative Christians espouse a religion where God created man, and evolution played no role. Some off-planet Hominids believe they are superior because they were created by evolution... the slow hand of God. Races created by non-Evolutionary techniques, such as computer-using Elk-evolved people whose hands couldn’t possibly wield primitive weapons and tools, are seen as inferior, and perhaps soul-less. Following this reasoning:
Races that didn’t evolve naturally are essentially slaves and/or henchmen to whomever created them.
Races that could have evolved naturally (like Hominids, Simians, and some “Reptiloids”) are in an evolutionary struggle for “survival of the fittest”. This often means war.
Races can genetically modify themselves, but people whose genetic modifications were made by other races must be “lap dogs”.
AWARENESS DREAM (14/10/2010) I was in a small courtyard with concrete-pave tiles. I was a Hominid on another planet. Two men wearing white pastel-plaid shirts, half a head taller than me, approached. 2338 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 I ran. In the next dream scene, I was walking on a sidewalk in front of the nook an L-shaped department store. Its one-and-a-half story windows were to my right, lit up for the late evening. Half a dozen other people were in the area, either waiting to be picked up in a 1970’s automobile, or entering the store. In front of me, ten glowing blue-cyan silhouettes suddenly materialized, five to a row. I watched frozen as the blue-cyan glows “cooled” down, revealing the men’s faces. Gendarme hats, and matching blue-grey uniforms, along with black-leather gloves, slowly emerged. The whole scene took 30 seconds, maybe a minute. I should have run. They were looking for me. I must have been stunned. That’s why I couldn’t run. One of the men approached and grabbed my right arm. He was threatening to break it. I looked up at his face. He had pronounced, wide cheekbones and a narrow jaw. It was narrow even where it hinged with his skull. His eyebrows were practically nonexistent. He must have been mostly bald, obscured by his hat. His skin was nearly white. After waking, I pinned a similar-face to him... like Grand Moff Tarkin from the first Star Wars, but younger, paler, and much-much more gaunt. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Moff_Tarkin) The bystanders were confused; they had never seen such technology, men walking out of thin air. The man looked sad, or perhaps felt sad. He must have known me. To give me a chance, he pulled out a small pistol, and ripped a plastic cap off the end... some sort of safety. 2339 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 He handed it to me and told me I could shoot him. Why? It wouldn’t make a difference, especially against his heavy blue-grey uniform, which was almost certainly armoured. I tossed it off to the right, and into the bushes. The toy-looking pistol glanced off a stunned bystander who had stood off to the side. “You should have fought.” I was swivelled around and pushed onto my knees. ... Welcome to the Great Hominid Empire!... or “The Consortium”, as they call themselves.
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November 12, 2011
I mischaracterized Zeen in my computer game... Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy. Zeen do not pick flowers. Zeen do not talk philosophy.
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November 12, 2011
SMALL CITY PLANS (PART 1) RABBIT-EVOLVED RURAL VILLAGE
A randomly deep thought Some Alotians have been figuring out how to game/rig the futures market for “time-share” invasions. Lowering/raising the price of the right for Hominids to invade a planet can not only be a profitable market-timing technique, but it might also keep your favorite planet from being attacked. There’s no point invading a low-value planet (based on the open market price) that is welldefended.
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November 12, 2011
CHEETAH-EVOLVED CITY
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Lemon and spinach braised beef (Liger recipe) 1.
3-cm thick slab of beef (or other red meat)
2.
Make several 2 cm deep, 5-cm long slits along the grain.
3.
Place a slice of lemon in a folded piece of spinach leaf into each slit, fold of the spinach down.
4.
In a very-hot thick grill, sear both sides.
5.
Bake on a low heat in the oven until medium or medium-well.
6.
Remove the spinach and lemon after cooking.
RACISM AMONGST OTHER RACES To a greater or lesser extent, racism exists amongst all races.
Races often “stick to themselves”, living on a mono-racial planet, or group of planets interconnected by low-cost transport.
They often trade with similar races, such as herbivores with herbivores. A lengthy chain of trade between semi-unfriendly races often exists, such as
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November 12, 2011 from herbivorous mammals, to omnivorous mammals, to herbivorous Chameleons, to carnivorous Saurians.
The GHE intentionally obstructs trade and contact, “slicing up” and weakening any potential governance competition.
Elder non-Hominid races have designed the system to retain some racism. A completely non-Racist society leads to once society-metaorganism that attracts all of the non-racists, with hundreds of races living together in its cities, and another society which is completely racist, and always at war with the non-racist society.
A deeply random thought Alotian managers recommend that 1 in 8, to 1 in 20, employees be a “funny Alotian”... basically a professional comedian on staff. Too few funny Alotians, and employees get grumpy. Too many, and no work gets done, particularly because funny Alotians don’t do much work themselves.
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 4) ARCH LIBRARY
Children’s books are on bottom floors.
The upper “vertical” floors rely on ladder access.
A randomly deep thought Time vase – Another cool invention if you have the technology. This is a glass box containing a time field. Flower arrangements stay alive for years. The colour effects are really cool, kind of a like a cross between a hologram, a diffractiongrating, and a magic eight-ball. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hologram, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diffraction_grating, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_eight_ball)
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November 12, 2011
HIGH RISES
As a general rule, don’t build high-rises. They’re too easy to blow up.
Cylinders aren’t as efficient at utilizing entire city blocks as box high-rises, but they are cheaper to build for equivalent strength.
Elevators go on the outside, not the inside.
Toilets (and the toilet sewage stack) on the inside.
Apartments are a bit tricky to design when elevators are on the outside and toilets on the inside. Rotating floor-plans, offset entry hallways, and upentry into apartments solves the problems.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought If 20%-30% of Westerners believe in reincarnation, then why do 99% of religious television shows talk about heaven and hell? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reincarnation)
HOW TO EXPLAIN UFOS AND ALIENS TO YOUR NEIGHBOURS I saw a UFO last night. “You’re joking!” No seriously. I have been abducted. “How much have you had to drink tonight? Sure you don’t want some more beef casserole?” Do you believe in aliens? “I might as well believe in Santa Claus. More potatoes?” (If your neighbours are educated, the conversation might continue...) You do believe that aliens could theoretically exist though, and could have evolved on another planet orbiting around another sun? “That’s not likely. Our solar system doesn’t have any other planets with both water and oxygen. [Wrong] What are the odds of other planets being as nice as ours?”
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November 12, 2011 Assuming that other planets like ours existed, then you admit that aliens could exist? “I suppose they could, but everyone knows that it would take them way too long to fly here, so they’d never show up.” But what if they could travel faster than the speed of light? “They can’t. Carl Sagan says so.” (Carl Sagan didn’t actually say this.) What if they spent a hundred years flying here? “Okay, for argument’s sake. They spent 100 years getting here. Where are they?” Maybe they’re watching us. “Why not land any say, “Hello”? If they didn’t say hello, then they’re lurking around and waiting to invade us. If that’s the case, it would be better for us if we never met them. Therefore, I’d rather that aliens didn’t exist.” What if they arrived here a million years ago? “Then they would have taken over the Earth and mined the hell out of it, just like we’re doing. I don’t see any alien civilizations here, do you?” What if they just stopped by for a look and took off? “Would we travel for 100 years to another planet, take some photos of the Grand Canyon, and just leave? I don’t think so. We would have built condos at the edge of the Grand Canyon. So would they.” What if aliens arrived 500 million years ago and terra-formed the planet? “I could imagine that, but... Only microbial life existed 500 million years ago [on Earth], so the aliens couldn’t have evolved [on other planets] as early as then. Even if that were the case, you still haven’t explained why they didn’t show up 10 million years later to reap the benefits.” Maybe they went extinct after the terra-forming. 2349 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “If they went extinct then aliens no longer exist.” So you don’t believe I was abducted then? “No. Aliens don’t exist. And if they did exist, why would they abduct you?”
A randomly deep thought Organic goo + rocks + water = oil over millions of years. Organic goo + silicon-compounds(?) + water + electrolysis = oil?
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November 12, 2011
PERSONALITY-RANGE CONTRACTION
Our personalities have less variation than many races. The GHE has eliminated many undesirable personalities (and personality diseases like autism and “being artsy”). Consequently, on a per-sub-race level, GHE Hominids have less-extreme variations in personality than we do.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Planetary civilizations can be powered by thick (10m x 10m and larger) and extremely long (1000 km plus) semi-superconductors running diagonally across the planet.
THE MEANING/PURPOSE OF LIFE “The meaning/purpose of life” is often described as an N-dimensional matrix. One method to explore the possible meanings/purposes of life is to begin with biological imperatives.
To survive – The purpose of life is to survive. It is to adapt to whatever the world throws at you. It is to adapt to whatever other people/life-forms throw at you.
To help people survive – The purpose of life is to help people survive. To help them learn how to survive. To provide them challenges so they become more resilient.
To help the world survive – The purpose of life is to help the world survive. To help it adapt.
To breed – The purpose of life is to reproduce. It is to impose oneself on the world. It is to impose one’s ideas onto the world. It is to remake the world in one’s image of the world.
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November 12, 2011 To learn – The purpose of life is to learn. To understand the world. To understand the people. To create a small copy/model of the world inside our minds.
To experience – The purpose of life is to experience the world. Try different things. Enjoy the world.
To have the world experience you – The purpose of life is to be a mixing stick. To wander around the world and let it experience you.
To help the world expand – Help it grow. Help people grow. Help the world and people change in ways that they want to change, or in ways they should change. Such ways do not necessarily benefit you.
To help you expand – The world exists to help you expand, not necessarily in ways that are to the world’s benefit, but which are to your benefit.
To create new worlds – The purposes of life is to create new worlds, or help the world create new worlds.
To get out of holes – The purpose of life is to get out of any metaphorical holes you dig yourself into... unless you plan on digging through to the other side of the world.
To help people get out of holes – The purpose of life is to help people get out of metaphorical holes they’ve dug themselves into.
To change how people and the world perceives the world – By changing how people perceive the world (or how it perceives itself), you can change the world.
To extend the world – The purpose of life is to extend the world. You can imagine the world like hessian fabric. You can pull up individual threads in the fabric just by seeking them out and slowly pulling at them. In reality, you
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November 12, 2011 can create new laws of physics, biology, psychology, and science by examining parts of the world in more detail than anyone else has done before.
To find the meaning/purpose of life – The purpose of life is to find the meaning/purpose of life.
To create new meanings/purposes of life – The purpose of life is to create new meanings/purposes of life.
All/none – All of the above are purposes of life. If all of the above are purposes of life, then you might as well say that none of the above are purposes of life.
Etcetera
A randomly deep thought It’s easier not to invade planets. Just blockade them until they’re no longer attacking, particularly if they don’t have any power, food, or spare parts.
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November 12, 2011
CHILDREN’S TOYS (PART 3) CHESS
Use 10 x 10 grid. Only four-fingered Saurians use an 8 x 8 board.
Each side has two shades of pieces. Light pieces start on light squares. Dark pieces start on dark squares.
Basic rules for chess exist. They are modified based on the board, pieces, and for an extra challenge, every time the game is played.
Players move one piece every turn. They can move their piece into an adjacent unoccupied space.
If the space is occupied by an enemy, then:
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Taller pieces defeat shorter pieces.
November 12, 2011 o
If both pieces are the same height, then the attacker can’t possibly win, so his piece isn’t allowed to move into the square.
o
The defender is considered to be one-level taller than the attacker.
o
If the defender’s piece is shaded the same as the square they’re on (light on light, dark on dark), then their piece is treated as one level taller.
o
If attacker’s piece is moved onto a square with same shade as the attacker’s colour (light to light square, dark to dark square), then the attacker is treated as one level taller.
End-game rules prevent run-around-the-board matches.
Variations include: o
Initial board layout.
o
Which pieces are better at attacking which pieces.
o
Special moves for pieces.
o
End-game rules.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Soul zapper/illuminator – A 5 cm long by 2.5 cm diameter tube with a blue laser-like light. Shine it in someone’s eye and activate it to destroy lower portions of their soul, or potentially shock their soul into disconnecting... in which case the person’s body might die. If someone falls unconscious after having their soul zapped/lit, then it’s easy to insert a plastic bag into their mouth, and spray a congestant nasal spray into their nose to plug it up. They’ll be dead in 10 to 20 minutes without any sign of trauma... so long as the plastic bag is removed.
PERSONALITY DIFFERENCES BETWEEN EARTH HOMINIDS AND GHE (GREAT HOMINID EMPIRE) GHE HOMINIDS
Nations
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
Government planning
3 years ahead
20 – 80 years a h e a d
Social safety net (like minimum housing, retirement, healthcare) 2357 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Go to war against other Hominids
All the time
Political manoeuvring
Go to war against non-Hominids
Not possible
Yes
(Native Americans, Armenians, Jews)
Pogroms
A deeply random thought Triffids are extradimensional parasites that live in your extradimensional body. They are semi-intelligent to intelligent. They can implant thoughts, feelings, moods, and emotions, either for their own benefit (cravings for food) or their organization’s benefit. “Request medical help” to get your triffid check-up today!
Economy
Utility value of money
Wealth corresponds to political power, and vice versa. 2358 | P a g e
Earth Hominid
$10b is perceived as 5-times as valuable as $1b
Typical GHE Hominid $10b is perceived as 5-times as valuable as $1b
November 12, 2011 Large percentage of the population unemployed and on welfare.
Does a “poor” class exist?
Slavery
Wage-slaves
often (nonHominids)
A randomly deep thought Reality bombs can evaporate flesh and wood, while leaving bones and steel intact. Etcetera.
Genetics
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
50/50
20/80, due to fertility attacks by non-Hominids
Median IQ
100
100 – 140, depending on the sub-race
IQ variation
+/- 30
+/- 20
Female vs. male
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November 12, 2011 Genetics modified by non-Hominids
Self-modified genetics Personality range
Narrow, compared to ideal race
Very narrow per sub-race
Meat + grains (+ fruit + veggies)
Meat + veggies (+ grains + fruit)
Obesity
(some sub-races)
Alcoholics
Criminals
Autistics and Aspergers Syndrome
Artsy types
Mentally retarded
Diet
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Estimated time for the information in this document to propagate to the wider community:
Furries – 12(?) years
Science-fiction and fantasy enthusiasts – 20 years
The general public, cop-show and sitcom watching – 75 – 150 years
Personality
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
Risk takers
What’s in it for me?
Don’t say what you mean. Listeners must “read between the lines” to get the real message.
Fear of venomous animals/insects, to the point of extermination attempts.
Fear of large predators, to the point of extermination attempts – Leads to the urge to exterminate enemies.
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November 12, 2011 Accept constructive criticism
No
No
Sense of vengeance
No
No
A randomly deep thought Cool “glass eyeball” features:
Some people see a picture-in-picture view of what their eye is looking at.
Underneath the picture-in-picture is a list of the top 4 to 8 thoughts of the person to whom they’re talking, displayed as short sentences.
The eyeball owner has thought-access to a database about the person, and can mentally ask database querries such as, “How old was this person when they got their first bicycle?”
The eyeball owner can also ask subconscious questions, manipulate the person’s thoughts, emotions, and feelings.
You need a very intelligent brain to use such features effectively. As well as morals, so you don’t abuse the technology.
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November 12, 2011 Activities
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
Stories
Television
Shopping
Keep an eye on the neighbours
Card/board games
Playing sports (NOT watching)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Past lives
A few decades ago, I remembered having walked onto a flat-bottomed boat when I was young. It was kind of a house boat, except that inside was a moviescreen and seats. I sat down with other children, and we watched a black-and-white movie.
A decade ago, while driving with my brother, I noticed a hill standing above a Pennsylvanian river. I recalled the hill, and a time when there weren’t any houses built along-side the river, just a few nativeAmerican villages further up.
A decade ago, I visited Thomas Jefferson’s house. A walkway underneath the house, used to access the basement, looked familiar to me, and resurfaced some memories.
Recently, I recalled some memories of Florence, just before the Medici’s took over. I may not have been a Hominid then. I’m not certain about this memory; the problem with “aliens” is that they can implant memories.
I fortunately don’t have any memories of being Cleopatra.
Social relationships
Dunbar’s number
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
150 – 300
500 – 750
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunbar's_number)
Racist 2364 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Support their nation (patriotic)
(Americans)
Respect authority Family bonds are important
Marriage is a contract to do activities together even though you don’t like doing them
Friendship is a contract to do activities together even though you don’t like doing them
Like to have people “under” them, either as direct reports, or socially
How people are treated when they don’t fit in, or who are dissenters
They’re ignored. If too annoying, they’re expelled from the group.
Attempts are made to bring them “into the fold”. Followed by mild, and then severe punishments.
Business negotiations with potential enemies
Usually try to have “win-win” outcome for both sides.
Usually try to have “I win, you lose” contracts.
Social status marked by large houses
Social status marked by expensive cars
Social status marked by clothing
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Another contactee site: http://www.aliendoodles.com
Miscellaneous
Earth Hominid
Typical GHE Hominid
Media is controlled
Propensity to be “top secret”
A randomly deep thought Soul detonator – A small “explosive” device that extradimensionally detonates and destroyes the lower levels of someone’s soul. These are sometimes used in infantry combat where the bodies of dead enemies have soul detonators applied to ensure that their souls cannot be transferred into synthesized/reinvigorated bodies. Someone with a severely damaged soul is a non-combatant for months to years.
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November 12, 2011
PEOPLE INTERACTING WITH EARTH AND HOMO SAPIENS
Migrant off-planet Hominids – The Earth is a nice place to life.
The Great Hominid Empire – The Earth is part of their empire. Earth is their resource. Homo Sapiens are their citizens/chattel.
Nordics (an earlier generation evolved from Australopithecus) – Their involvement is a mystery.
Earlier generations evolved from Australopithecus (Not Nordics) – Earth is THEIR planet.
Earlier generations evolved from Australopithecus (Not Nordics) – Some are working on partial disclosure, encouraging spirituality memes instead of heaven-and-hell memes.
“Greys” – They like Homo Sapiens and dislike what the GHE is doing here. They are trying to walk a fine line between helping Homo Sapiens, but not helping so much that the GHE decides the “Greys” are interfering with “their” planet.
“Animal people” – Working with “furries”, particularly those whose souls have (in part) come from other “animal people”.
Others, including “reptiloids” – They may be legally taking over security and governance of this region of the taurosphere, officially as of 2012-ish. The GHE wouldn’t like this.
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November 12, 2011 Other people living on different layers of Earth, as well as other planets in the solar system – They don’t want the GHE to take notice of Earth, because they don’t want to be caught in the war.
Others – They have been counteracting the GHE Hominid personalityproblems with genetic manipulation.
Others – They’re preparing Mars. It’ll be a big Easter-egg hunt.
Cthulhuoids – Other bits.
Etcetera
As with any endeavour, people are often unaware of others working on tangential goals, or at odds with them.
A deeply random thought You don’t want a pissed-off Liger wandering around your mansion.
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November 12, 2011
FASHION (PART 4) NOR
Most Nor DON’T wear simulated black leather all the time
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Marinated eel salad (Hardrosaur-evolved recipe)
Sliced eel, marinated/cooked for a few days in a lemon/lime-like fruitjuice.
Slice eel further into thin ribbons, 2 – 5 cm long.
Water-lily stems (from under the water), sliced at an angle into 5 cm long pieces.
Water chestnut slices.
Blackberries or other tart fruit, to taste.
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November 12, 2011
SHARK-EVOLVED
Shark-evolved people aren’t into fashion that much. They do like couches though. PS – We don’t wear funny glowing LED-lights on us like that 1990’s movie. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Abyss)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Hadrosaur teaching technique #1 – When teaching information, include erroneous (and hopefully funny) mistakes to see if the student perceives the mistakes. Hadrosaur teaching technique #2 – After teaching the student something, ask them to teach your some of their valuable wisdom in return. This engages them, teaches them how difficult it is to teach, and helps teachers identify what the students know and don’t know.
WAR STATISTICS (WRITTEN 18/10/2010) Many non-Hominids are now counterattacking Hominids at greater than a 1:1 ratio... which means for the war to calm down, Hominids must counterattack with less than a 1:1 ratio.
A randomly deep thought Awareness-dream implants – These soul implants let you see through someone’s eyes (or a camera next to their eyes) when you dream, from up to half a galaxy away. They are installed and controlled by some non-Hominids, as well as wandering-planets Hominids (an earlier branch of Hominids).
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November 12, 2011
RELATIONSHIPS What’s expected from a relationship varies with different cultures and races. NonHominids have different relationship expectations than Homo Sapiens.
I want to wander up to an activity location, such as a pool hall, and find people to play pool with. I don’t need to have known them beforehand.
I want to interact with my friend when I want to do something that they want to do. If we want to go separate ways, we do so.
I want a contractual friendship, where one night I eat my favourite food (and my friend pretends to enjoy it), and the next night my friend eats their favourite food (and I pretend to enjoy it).
I want to spend time with someone I feel comfortable (very safe) around.
I want someone to stimulate my imagination, humour, will to live, etc.
I want sex.
I want someone to tell me what to do, or I want to tell someone else what to do.
I want to help someone, or I want to be helped by someone.
I want to teach/mentor someone, or I want someone to teach/mentor me.
I want to interact with my genetic family and relatives, strengthening those bonds.
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November 12, 2011 I want a friend who is going to agree with all of my opinions, and vice versa.
I want a friend who is going to challenge my opinions.
I want to spend time sitting around with my friends. Cohabitation of the same space, eating the same meal, and talking about the same inconsequential stuff, is most important.
I want a contractual marriage where we go to my favourite holiday spot one week, and then your favourite holiday spot the next.
I want a marriage where we cohabit the same house, and say hello to each other in the morning, and in the evening.
I want a marriage which is “friends first”, whatever “friends” may be.
I want a marriage for the sake of our children.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Earth is at a unique technology epoch:
It is populated by Hominids, and part of the GHE.
Its people are avid TV/movie watchers. Some even read books.
Earth’s movies are special-effects laden due to the unusuallysophisticated computers on Earth.
The media is relatively uncensored.
The internet also encourages the propagation of niche ideas.
Earth herself has signal amplification and transmission.
If a science-fiction or fantasy author can be convinced to write fiction with an appropriate theme, such as warning about 2012, then millions of implanted Homo Sapiens will see it. They in turn relay the movie’s memes to other Hominids off-planet, via telepathic conversations and/or awareness dreams.
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November 12, 2011
DECISIONS You find yourself in a room with 3 doors leaving the room.
Which door do you take? That is a decision.
Do you look for hidden doors in the room? How much time do you spend looking? Those are decisions.
How do you decide which door you want to take? Do you spend a few seconds looking at the colour of each? Do you touch the doors to see if they’re warm? Do you listen to the doors? Do open them a crack and peek? Do you pull out a reference guide? These are decisions.
How do you evaluate which door is “best”? Do you give a door 10 points if it’s red, 5 if it’s blue, and an extra 18 if birds can be heard chirping on the other side? These are decisions.
Does your evaluation of “best” depend on what doors you have tried in previous rooms? Are you looking for variety, or dependability? These are decisions.
If your scoring mechanism always produces one door as “best”, then you no longer have any decisions to make about which door to go through once you have calculated a score. They have been decided by your previous decisions.
When do you decide to change your decision criteria? This is a decision.
How many important decisions do you make in your life? Or are the all relegated to minor choices, like whether to eat chicken or turkey for dinner?
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Another contactee E-book. This one by http://www.karlaturner.org/ at http://www.karlaturner.org/books/Karla%20Turner%20%20Into%20the%20Fringe.pdf.
HOMO SAPIENS FERTILI TY RATE I have 44 Facebook friends from my CalTech graduating class (top 1% of geek-type intelligence). Looking at listed children’s names and family photos, I estimate they have produced 35 children. (http://www.facebook.com, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech) I have 37 Facebook friends from my East Aurora High School graduating class (mostly college educated). They have produced 41 children. Not coincidentally, they are the same age as my CalTech friends. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Aurora_High_School) Assuming that children will be cut in half in the event of a divorce, CalTech grads have produced an average of 0.397 children, while every East Aurora grad has produced an average of 0.554 children. Assuming that 10% of people die before they get a chance to produce children (the median child-bearing age being 30-ish, as far as I can tell), then the top-1% IQ people produce 0.357 children, and mostly-college-grads produce 0.499 children. (A number less than 1.0 means our population is declining.)
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November 12, 2011 According to Wikipedia, college-educated couples have a “fertility rate” of 1.56, or 0.78 children per college-educated grad... which should be close to my East Aurora number of 0.499. The two numbers aren’t close though. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fertility_and_intelligence) Maybe I miscounted children... Scale mostly-college-grad children by 1.56... 0.499 * 1.56 = 0.78... matching Wikipedia’s number. Scale top-1% IQ by 1.56... 0.357 * 1.56 = 0.557. Even with the scaling, our population is declining. People in the top-1% IQ have 28.5% fewer children than college grads... AT least... since most Caltech grads marry spouses NOT in the top 1% of IQ.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Imagine the universe as a two-dimensional histogram/topography. The universe is so complex that the topography isn’t just rolling hills or mountains, but quintillions of spikes of noise, all with random heights and widths. The grand-unified theory of life, the universe, and everything is simple: “Shit happens!” Unfortunately, this motto doesn’t help our understanding of the universe. Any simple rule will flatten out (make predictable) one region of the universe’s topography, while making the rest more complex (and less predictable). “An object is attracted to another object proportional to the product of their masses and the inverse square of the distance”, describes gravity. This rule flattens out one small section of the universe’s topography, making it easier to predict how apples fall. It accentuates the randomness in the rest of the universe though. The law of gravity explains apples a bit better, but apply the same law to psychology or poetry, and you get a mess. Several simple rules can be stitched together to flatten out a larger region of the universe’s topography. The local flattening induces more randomness in the rest of the topography. The laws of mechanical physics can explain mechanical springs and gears well, but apply them to economics and you’ll go broke. The more rules you know that explain how the universe works, the more rules you need to know about how and when to apply the rules.
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November 12, 2011
IDEA WANDERING (BRAI NSTORMING 2.0) Begin with a scene, such as a kitchen Mentally zoom in on an object in the scene, such as a pop-up toaster. Apply some sort of transform to the object, such as converting the plastic parts of the toaster to steel, and vice versa. What is the function/purpose of this new object? Given all of the plastic, the toaster will melt itself. Apply that function/purpose to a sub-component of the toaster... such as the heating coils, producing some Salvador-Dali drooping coils co-melted into a pile of slag. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvador_Dal%C3%AD) Apply a spatial transform to the coils and slag... perhaps imagining a room that has a blob-like curved ceiling (the slag) and some spiral staircases (heating coils) leading up out of it, at odd angles. Change the laws of physics... so you can float up the angled spiral staircases and into a parallel layer on the planet. What happens when a random animal encounters this concept... An elephant might remember the laws of spiral gravity. How can the laws of physics be changed so that falling objects spiral down, instead of falling straight down? What if Newton’s falling-apple hadn’t hit his head, but spiralled around him as it fell? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Issac_Newton#Apple_analogy) Maybe he would have invented the cross-product, a matrix multiplication technique used for fields perpendicular to motion. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cross_product)
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November 12, 2011 Can the idea of a cross-product be used for derivates and integrals? (Derivatives are associated with Isaac Newton.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derivative, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Integral) Etcetera. Don’t repeat the process, but the concept of the process, or the concept of the concept of the process. PS – The amount of energy it takes to lift a 10 g pencil 1 cm, is the same amount of energy that it takes to lower the entire universe (minus 10 g) by 1 cm.
A randomly deep thought Cheetahs often try “experiments” on their friends. Before meeting with their friends, the may decide to be happy, shy, or weird on any given encounter, and see if their friend behaves differently. If you always behave the same way with your friend, they are likely to behave them same way they did the last time you met with them... which is boring.
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November 12, 2011
SOME RANDOM WAR STUFF WHERE CAN HOMINIDS LIVE? Only 1/3 of a galaxy’s solar systems are inhabitable by Hominids... and other races with our type of DNA, such as “animal people”, some Arthropods, some Greys, and many “Reptiloids”. 2/3 of the solar systems are inhabited by races with markedly different genetics, such as some Arthropods, some “Greys”, some “Reptiloids”, and some really-really weird races. This division occurs, in part, because the constants of physics are so different around some stars that our biology won’t function properly. Our soul biologies are also an issue. The uninhabitable solar systems can be visited by our spacecraft, but encountersuits (to customize the constants of physics) must be worn when we visit the planets. Alternatively, people can live in baryonic chambers, and perhaps on different layers of the planet. Hominids cannot live near the galactic core... the rent is far too expensive, not to mention the different constants of physics. Of the 1/3 of the inhabitable stars, one planet (maybe two) planets are optimally habitable by our biology (including Hominids, “animal people”, some “Greys”, some Arthropods, Saurians, some “Reptiloids”, and others). Several other planets are typically marginally habitable, such as Mars. In-between Earth-habitability and Mars-habitability are planets like Australia, with one to two Australia-like continents per planet. Due to budgetary constraints, out Australia planet was co-fitted into Earth, perhaps a billion years ago. About 80% of planets are inhabited by “low-tech” people, with no technology, to simple tools, to pre-industrial-revolution technology. Some of the planets are “garden planets” with no intelligent people. 2382 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Up to 80% of planets in a solar system are “rotated” in various ways, making them inaccessible to low-tech races (such as most Hominids). To low-tech races, only 1/5 of planets are visible, so only 1/2 to 1/3 of solar systems have visible habitable planets. Many solar systems are hidden within nebulas or gas clouds, making them difficult to find and hyperspace to. Planetary defences include circular masking sails that open-up in front of unwelcome spacecraft, visually hiding the planet.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought If you mention UFOs and “aliens” to your neighbours, what do they do? Mild rebukes 1.
They try to switch subjects. “Oops, the tea is just about done boiling.”
2.
They obliquely tell you to change subjects. “No one wants to talk about that, do they?”
3.
They think you’re odd.
4.
They think you’re crazy.
5.
They commit you to a mental institution.
6.
They imprison you.
7.
They put you in a gulag for life.
8.
The law executes you. Severe punishments
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November 12, 2011
NEBULAS
Some nebulas are “man-made” (or at least partially engineered) defensive measures.
A randomly deep thought With 1020 – 1024 people, the Great Hominid Empire controls 1011 – 1015 planets. They undoubtedly have a very-very large recipe book listing multiple ways to convince people that UFOs and aliens don’t exist.
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November 12, 2011
HYDROGENIZED ATMOSPHERES Neutron bombs are really “proton + electron” bombs. They work by generating copious free protons (with associated electrons) and extradimensionally ejecting the proton + electron pair (aka: Hydrogen). Much of the hydrogen quickly “floats” back to ordinary three-dimensional space. If it floats into someone’s body, the protons combine with organic molecules, killing the person over a few hours to a few weeks. If they float into the atmosphere, then the amount of hydrogen in the atmosphere increases. The next time someone lights a match, the hydrogen combines with oxygen, and produces water. People can’t breathe water... they die of suffocation if enough “neutron” bombs are detonated on their planet. If there isn’t enough oxygen, the hydrogen (may) eventually combine into helium. (I have no idea how.) People don’t survive well in atmospheres with significant concentrations of helium either, although helium atmospheres have picturesque green sunsets.
A deeply random thought Compare Aljazeera.net to CNN.com to CNN television. (http://english.aljazeera.net/, http://www.cnn.com/)
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER PLANETOID IMPACT This planetoid attack was against a Hominid planet: 1.
There was a bulls-eye at the equator.
2.
The impact-side of the planetoid was pushed inwards.
3.
The opposite side was pushed outwards.
4.
The centre perpendicular-ring of the planet (a ring perpendicular to the impact direction) was also pushed outwards.
5.
Some of the high-density materials at the planet’s core were pushed offcentre, away from the impact side.
6.
Enormous earthquakes ensued. No building would have been left standing.
7.
And, oh yes, tsunamis.
8.
The ground liquefied due to ground water.
9.
Heavier-than-air toxic gasses in the ground, such as carbon-monoxide (?) were forced out of the ground... killing all animal-life in low-lying areas, and creating a planetary fog.
10. Due to the planet’s reshaping and core displacement, the planet’s centreof-mass changed markedly. The planet’s surface-water adjusted, and the far-side of the impact was soon under water, while the impact site was high-and-dry. So was the planet’s centre-ring.
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November 12, 2011 11. The less-round planet now interacts with its moon differently. Day and night durations will change. Under worse-case conditions, the moon might even fly away from the planet, or even impact the planet. 12. The mis-centred heavy-metals core will eventually realign itself, and the planet’s surface-water will flow back to the impact side.
A randomly deep thought Hunting, gathering, cultivating – Iron-age (wo)man. Sports and Massively-Multiplayer Online games, shopping, and lawn-care – Contemporary (wo)man.
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November 12, 2011
CHESS-BOARD GALAXY
The GHE already has significant populations in the yellow-boxed areas. (We are located in the yellow-box nearest the bottom, in the Orion Spur). The GHE is trying to strengthen its hold over yellow-boxed areas, by invading and populating more planets there. The GHE has been invading and populating planets in pink-boxed areas to gain footholds there. If the GHE occupation succeeds, their “chess board” occupation will put them within quick-and-easy weapons-strike distance of most planets... like the United States installing nuclear missiles in Eastern Europe and Turkey in the 1950’s and 2389 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 1960’s... which sparked the Cuban Missile Crisis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuban_Missile_Crisis) The checkerboard also lets Hominids interfere with trade. By the way, The Milky Way galaxy is a small galaxy, with about 1/16th the number of stars of the Andromeda Galaxy.
A deeply random thought No-one will ever admit to being “dolphin” evolved.
29 OCTOBER, 2010 500 warships (5+ stories tall each) were discovered in underground bunkers on a Hominid planet... which was more of a “moon” revolving around a star. The quickest way to destroy underground facilities is with a very large meteor. Before the warships escaped, a very large meteor was rammed into the planet. 10+ million Hominids were killed on the planet. The nearby major Hominid-planet retaliated by attacking non-Hominid planets. These attacks increased the Hominid planet’s “score” for how belligerent and dangerous they were. Their score surpassed a previously-defined threshold, 2390 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 warranting an attack. The Hominids were attacked with 5 8-gigaton bombs a few hours later, killing 40-million people. That attack led to several retaliatory attacks by the Hominids. One of the retaliatory attacks was against an Earth-technology Nor planet, using 18 missiles with 100-500 kiloton warheads. (The Nor planet had spaceplane travel off the planet via permits.) 12-million people died on that planet. Large (2.1 meter-tall) Hominids had previously landed and occupied a small portion of the southern coast of the planet’s main continent, as well as an island off to the west. Immediately after the bombing, they opportunistically spread inland from the south, as well as landed troops in cities on the west coast. How do you get an invading Hominid force off your planet, and out of your cities? Their size and their body armour make them difficult to kill. If they’re attacked, at the very least many/most of your people in the occupied cities are killed, not to mention the urban destruction. At worst, the Hominids revenge-attack other cities with nuclear-tipped missiles that can travel across-planet in 5 minutes. In retaliation for the attack on the Nor planet (and others), another Hominid planet was attacked in an undisclosed manner.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought A curry recipe that Nors like
“Chicken + pork” flavoured dinosaur (or just chicken)
Butter, perferred over oil
No onions, no tomatoes
Curry spices – Cardoman pods, fenugreek, cinnamon, ground pepper... almost Moroccan flavour. No chillies.
Thickening agent like corn starch
Fruit (added after cooking) – Mangos, semi-dried figs, cumquats, raisins
Avoid vegetables
Avoid noodles and/or rice
COMPUTERS (PART 1) NON-EARTH COMPUTER PROCESSORS Non-Earth computer processors are typically built from lots of very-small minicores.
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November 12, 2011 Each core has built-in memory. Many cores lack floating-point ability. If there is floating-point, it’s seldom more than 32 bit. The cores generally do NOT do out-oforder processing, but are much more RISC-like. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Processor_core, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Math_coprocessor, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outof-order_execution, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RISC) Extradimensional technology can be used to reduce processor size. The sum-total of the mini-cores is often less-powerful than our processors. Graphics coprocessors aren’t used, because (a) simulated-world-based computergames that require 3D-graphics aren’t popular, and (b) multiple mini-cores can perform adequate rendering for most users. Co-processing in the form of “crystals” does exist. “Crystals” are three-plus dimensional lattices. They are self-learning, like our contemporary “neural networks”, but done right. You can’t upload new software and data into crystals; every crystal has to learn on its own. Crystals must also be “fed” with nutrients, and are often stored in a suspended solution of minerals. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neural_network) Different types of crystals exist. Some specialize in processing, some in remembering, some remembering accurately, and others in processing specific patterns. Programming for thousands of mini-cores is very different to our computer programming. Programmers write “functions” with inputs (and input streams), outputs (and output streams), and core-specific variables. The compiler, and runtime core-analysis, determines which cores the “functions” are run on. Crystal “programming” is a completely different exercise.
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November 12, 2011
TIPS FOR EARTH COMPUTER-PEOPLE
Off-planet computer are very easy to use, even simpler than the iPad. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ipad)
Keyboard/touch accessibility is very important. Knobs, buttons, pen interfaces, and touch-screens must support different-shaped hands. Never-ever go shopping for mobile phone with aliens; They ALL complain about the buttons being too small, especially ancylotherium-evolved people. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancylotherium)
Visual accessibility is important. Different characteristics of eyes must be accounted for, including color sensitivity, resolution, eye-candy dislikes, and the ability to read small text. Black and white LCD-ish displays work well.
Water and salt resistance are important, particularly for shark-evolved people and aquatic geckos.
Unicode will work. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unicode)
The operating system needs to work on any planet. Don’t assume 24 hour days, a map of Earth, etc.
Processors must work on any planet. As every planet has different physics’ constants, processors must slow down when they don’t “like” the local laws of physics.
No back doors! Any operating system with magic codes for backdoor entry (or shutdown) won’t be used.
Don’t forget, internet access is NOT ubiquitous. Do NOT require internet access to install and setup the operating system!
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November 12, 2011 Battery life in measured in years of typical usage. We don’t plug in our personal computers.
A deeply random thought Planets keep their own database on people (souls)... which means that if a planet likes you, then other planets that the planet likes, also (potentially) like you... which is another reason why contactees aren’t allowed off Earth. They help the planets communicate with one another.
HOW CIVILIZATIONS ACQUIRE THEIR TECHNOLOGY Civilizations acquire technologies in a number of ways: 1.
They invent technologies themselves.
2.
Someone gives them hints about how to invent technologies. One famous case is how Dmitri Mendeleyev invented the periodic table of the elements after having a dream about how the elements fit together. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dmitri_Mendeleev, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Periodic_table)
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November 12, 2011 3. They acquire more-advanced technology through accidents, and reverse engineer it. Wars, UFO crashes, and ancient dead planets are good sources. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Day_After_Roswell, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars) 4.
They aggressively take/steal more-advanced technology and reverseengineer it.
5.
Soul-slaves are taken hostage, some of their memory is wiped, they are placed in children’s bodies, and grown up in the civilization... with the hopes that the soul-slaves “re-invent” technology that they learned about in prior lives.
6.
Civilizations are given physics equations and manufacturing-technology by an ally, often with the often-false claim of, “Yeah, we invented this technology all by ourselves, so it’s ours to give away.”
7.
Equipment is sold, leased, or given to the civilization.
A randomly deep thought Free stores – These are mini-stores located just outside money-based supermarkets. People can take as much food (within reason) as they want from free stores. Rabbit-evolved populations often have free-stores with cabbage, cucumbers, zucchini (which are WAY too plentiful), some fruits, and some nuts. People can bring their own produce into the free store for money to spend in the supermarket.
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November 12, 2011
POTENTIAL RESULTS OF THE WAR IF A TRUCE IS AGREED TO The last few wars with the Hominids have resulted in truces. Hominids gave up (approximately) half of their planet gains. They released approximately half of the hostages they took before and during the war. Historically, truces with the GHE have resulted in 10 – 20 years of peace. This time around, a truce might be much tougher to negotiate than before.
Non-Hominids have recognized this pattern for centuries, but keep hoping the GHE will “turn around” and decide to become less belligerent. For an Earth example: Should China, South Korea, Japan, and the United States wait for North Korea to collapse under its own failures (or decide to become less belligerent), or should they invade now? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_korea)
If all the hostages aren’t released, families and governments are likely to try to rescue hostages. This leads to assault/rescue teams, who are often trapped and taken hostage... which leads to the less-desirable alternative plan of killing of hostages in order to release their souls... which tends to lead to bombings... which leads to hostages being hidden throughout cities... which leads to cities being bombed... which means that a truce is unlikely to hold unless all the hostages are released.
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November 12, 2011
EARTH A truce might result in:
No disclosure for the foreseeable future... decades to centuries.
Controlled disclosure.
Anything in-between – Such as secret “brain-drain” from Earth.
A deeply random thought Africa is being brain-drained into Europe and South Africa.
IF THERE IS NO TRUCE EARTH
Earth could be destroyed by the GHE. The GHE believes that all Hominids are part of the GHE. Those who try to escape are often forcibly brought back, imprisoned/enslaved, and/or repeatedly assassinated. On the other hand, the GHE doesn’t like “lap dog”
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November 12, 2011 Hominids genetically-modified by non-Hominids, and has a history of pogroming them. The GHE doesn’t like escaping planets either. The destruction of Earth might make for a good “warning” video to be shown to other Hominid planets thinking about breaking away from the GHE. They don’t like non-Hominids trying to help Earth, and have labelled the area as “alien central”. Earth is also desired by Hominids evolved from an earlier split of Australopithecus, who are and are not part of the GHE. Disclosure hasn’t happened on Earth mostly as a consequence of “all of the above”. People have walked a fine line between keeping Earth’s Homo Sapiens from being pogromed by the GHE, and keeping Earth (and the planets of any “aliens” that help with disclosure) from being blown up.
Earth could be invaded by the GHE – The GHE could land troops in a friendly invasion.
Accidental terrestrial war –A nuclear explosion on Earth originating from off-planet could result in one nation believing they were attacked by terrorists... at best. At worst, they might assume that another nation attacked them.
Political assassinations via heart attacks, brain haemorrhages, other diseases, accidental plane crashes, and crazy people are possible.
Invisible pogroms are also possible.
Accidental disclosure – Accidental disclosure could occur if a Hominid or non-Hominid spaceplane is shot down. See Roswell. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_incident)
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November 12, 2011
THE LOCAL AREA The local cluster of galaxy clusters could be greatly harmed by the war. Many planets could be destroyed or severely damaged. 5% - 15% of the non-Hominid population could die.
HOMINIDS REMEMBER THE SAURIANS (AND OTHE RS) FROM 4000 YEARS AGO Local Hominids were “primitives” 4000 years ago, with medieval technology (or worse). They remember the Saurians (and others) invading their planets and enslaving them. 4000 years from now, today’s “primitive” “animal people” will likely remember what the Hominids did to them. Technological “animal people”, “Greys”, and Saurians will certainly remember this war. Importantly for Earth, non-Hominids see non-disclosed Hominids as innocent, enslaved, and definitely NOT part of the problem. Having said that, once off planet, Earth Hominids look exactly the same as GHE Hominids, and they’re not going to be trusted unless under non-Hominid escort.
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November 12, 2011
DIASPORA The Hominids could be forced off their colony planets. The Hominids could be forced off their main quality planets and onto low-value two-continent planets, or even non-rotating planets. If people are very upset, the Hominids might be given only dark planets, with an IR sun.
SLAVERY GHE Hominids are slavers. Many people would have no compunction about enslaving them. Eye for eye. Tooth for tooth. Tit for tat.
TECHNOLOGY ROLL-BACKS AND GENETIC MODIFICATION A 30% death-rate for GHE Hominids is certainly possible. The death-rate could be higher if they are allowed to starve to death. GHE Hominids could be limited to Earth-level technology, perhaps with public spaceplane access. They could be limited to medieval technology. They could be rolled back all the way to cultivators, and perhaps hunter/gatherers. If their technology is rolled-back enough, GHE Hominids could be fertilized with embryos from “friendly” Hominid-stock. Most of their children would be theirs genetically, and some from “friendly” Hominid DNA. Fertilization has been attempted before, but the GHE Hominids have detected it and euthanized the infants... and then gone on to genocide the “friendly” Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
WHO INVADES AFTER THE HOMINIDS? Are non-Hominids pulling the strings of the GHE? Someone might invade after the GHE loses. For example: If the US, UK, and French resistance only barely defeated Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia could have swept through Europe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II)
A VACUUM What happened when Nazi Germany collapsed? The US and Russia divided-up Germany and its occupied territories. Partially as a result of this, a cold war ensued. It could have turned into a full war. A GHE that loses in grand style would leave lots of valuable planets behind. Who is going to get them?
TERRORIST HOMINIDS? Hominids who think they’re unjustly barred from technology, who are being forcebred, and who have been thrown off their historical home-worlds might turn into terrorists. For an Earth example: See the Palestinians. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palestine_Liberation_Organization) 2402 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WHO WANTS TO BE A HOMINID? If Hominids are (a) prevented from travelling except under escort, (b) often enslaved, and (c) are considered terrorists, who would want to be a Hominid? Certainly not the nice, non-extremist, less-racist Hominids. As more “nice”, non-extremist, lessracist people decide not to be Hominid, Hominids will increasingly become not-nice, extremist, and racist. This results in a spiralling feedback loop.
A randomly deep thought Triangle-craft can create a shooting-star-like effect to attract people’s attention... that’s why you “wish upon a shooting star”. No Virginia, trianglecraft pilots cannot produce more Santa Clauses so you get more presents. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yes,_Virginia,_there_is_a_Santa_Claus)
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November 12, 2011
THE ANCIENT ART OF CONVERSATION (PART 3) Here’s another conversation technique:
Discuss 3 – 8 topics at once, rapidly alternating between topics. Any person is allowed to talk about any topic at any time. To the uninitiated, this may appear to be a conversation full of non-sequiturs.
Each topic thread is allowed to wander into other topics. No going back to already-visited topics.
People cannot ask direct questions about the information they seek. They can ask AROUND the information that they seek, and guess the sought-after information by reading between the lines. Consequently, no-one else really knows what kind of information the other person is after.
Questions aren’t always answered with statements. Sometimes they’re answered with questions. Other times with body motions. Statements might be followed by statements, not questions. The rules for what can follow what are changed throughout the conversation, usually without notification that the rules have changed.
Questions and statements are sometimes verbally spoken. Various forms of telepathy are used other times, from ideas, to images, to verbal telepathy. Motions might also be used.
The truth must be told, but it can be avoided.
Masked lies are possible. Someone might tell a verbal lie, but use handmotions to invert the meaning of the lie to a truth. Or, a verbal lie such as, “He went right”, might be overridden by the truth as the person points left.
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November 12, 2011 This can be turned into a computer game.
A deeply random thought Digital cameras are sensitive to different quaternion EMR than our eyes, which are sensitive to different quaternion EMR than film... which is why digital cameras often spot UFOs when our eyes don’t. Retinal-repair film is sensitive to different quaternion EMR than our normal retina cells… producing a temporary X-ray vision effect.
MORE OF MY UFO/ALIEN HISTORY
1974 or 1975 – When I attended kindergarten or 1st grade, a classmate claimed to have seen an alien come out of a giant egg. He drew a picture that looked somewhat like the sketch below. (See below.) He said the alien bit him on the finger. He seemed to believe his story, and so did I, but I was only 4 or 5, so I wasn’t a good judge of what was real. Years later, I assumed that he had seen the movie “Alien”, but “Alien” came out in May 1979. I don’t know who he was. I don’t recall seeing him in any future classes; he may have moved away from East Aurora. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film))
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November 12, 2011
1975-ish – When the lights were turned off in my bedroom at night, I would see “spiders” floating in the dark. They looked like mostly-transparent 1 cm circles with 8 – 12 equally-spaced legs. I have since been told they were lowtech invisible cameras.
1975-ish – I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “I look like a newt.”
1980-ish –Looking out of my bedroom window at night, I thought I saw three white-clad (head to toe) figures by my parent’s raspberry bushes. One was quite short. They were very difficult to see in the dark. I told a friend a few days later, and was mocked. I didn’t tell anyone about aliens until 2009. I am still mocked.
1988 – 1992 – I wrote my fantasy book, “A Traveler’s guide to the Ashtari Empire”.
Early 1990’s – I read some UFO books, and concluded there wasn’t enough information in them.
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November 12, 2011 1996-ish – I had a few alien visits to my home near Seattle, but I was never certain if they were dreams or not. UFO-lore didn’t include alien house-calls.
1998 – I read a few more UFO books, and once-again concluded there wasn’t enough information.
1998 – I moved to outback Australia. Getting books became very difficult and expensive, even with the help of Amazon.com. Therefore, I stopped reading UFO books.
2004 – 2009 – I was abducted more than a few times, but the lack of “Greys” and the business-class seating made me doubt my abductions. I also had at least one home visit by a “Grey”, as well as by Wallaby-evolved people.
2005 – Trying to think of a setting for my game, I decided to use anthropomorphic animals, perhaps starting the game on Mars and having high-level characters explore a destroyed Earth.
2006 – I began looking on the internet for ideas about aliens, partially because of my game, and partially because I was having awareness dreams about non-Grey alien races. Once I eliminated the 90% of UFO/alien lore that was crap, I found that even if the remaining 10% wasn’t true, it was certainly more interesting than any science fiction I could find on television. One pattern that I recognized, was that the aliens had sub-divided Earth by continent. “Greys” and circular UFOs were seen in the US. Different circular UFOs (and different “Greys”, who weren’t really “Greys”) were in Russia. South America had different-shaped UFOs and “reptiloid” chupacabras. I began incorporating these “spheres of influence” into my game setting… Gateways led to alien planets. The aliens were influencing the anthro races in my game world, inducing a simmering proxy-war in my game world.
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November 12, 2011 One of the reasons I wrote my game is because I (incorrectly) assumed that the “aliens” would have hacked into the internet. If you were an alien trying to learn about Earth’s cultures, wouldn’t you try playing some online games? In part, my game was designed to attract the attention of any aliens that played online games (like Second Life) so that I could get in contact with them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_life)
2007 – I photographed the mountains in Banff. I didn’t notice the UFOs in the photographs until two years later, because the UFOs weren’t visible to my eyes, only to my digital camera.
2009 – I learned that the damn aliens were hovering above my house the whole time and watching me write the game! They didn’t do anything, partially because I was marked as someone else’s “project”, partially because they didn’t want to endanger me, and they thought the whole thing quite ironic. (Odd fact – The person whose “project” I was, repeatedly complains that I broke their leg while running while I was controlling them through an awareness dream.)
A randomly deep thought Due to the war, I have seen far fewer UFOs hovering over my house this year.
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November 12, 2011
BIOLOGY (PART 1) Mitochondria aren’t just for processing food. They are part of an organism’s “DNA”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitochondrion, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitochondrial_DNA)
A deeply random thought Four-legged “animal people” are seen as militant by two-legged “animal people”. Many races are still four-legged even after five million years, when a major war broke out and turned them to the “dark four-legged side”.
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November 12, 2011
THEY WANT ME TO ABUSE GEORGE LUCAS (PART 1) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Lucas)
“PERMIAN”-TIME-PERIOD EVOLUTIONARY SPLIT
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Permian, Dex in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars_Episode_II:_Attack_of_the_Clones)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Yum-yaw – A nearby undisclosed Hominid planet with about 2 billion people. They look like African-Egyptians (from ancient Egypt). Their current technology is 1960’s – 1970’s.
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November 12, 2011
SQUIRREL-GLIDER EVOLVED
“We do NOT say “Jub jub”, nor do we live in trees.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squirrel_Glider, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ewok)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Nuclear dampeners – These dampen nuclear explosions so they either don’t detonate, or their effects are an order of magnitude less.
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November 12, 2011
VERY-VERY-VERY DISTANTLY EVOLVED FROM CATFISH
Attn. George Lucas – You haven’t included us in your movies yet. Why not? We’re much easier to computer-render than Saurians because we don’t have feathers.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Raccoon-evolved recipe
Begin with something edible.
Deep-fry it.
Dip it in tomato sauce.
ANIMATION STYLES (PART 1)
Anamami “Grey” animation – Lots of claymation. Occasional computer-pen sketches, somewhat like my sketches of “Greys with generators”, but no colour fill, and much sketchier.
Earth Homo-sapiens animation – Computer animation.
Elk-evolved animation – Some Elk-evolved people coexisted on the same planet as Hominids when they both had medieval technology. The two races were always at war. The Hominids eventually won (due to a technology boost), and from then on, the Elk-people lived on the planet as third-class citizens. Bereft of their own cartoons, the Elk-evolved people would watch the Hominid animations (realistic Disney-like animation) and root for the enemy, who were often Elk-evolved.
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November 12, 2011 Leopard-evolved animation – Romance. Lots of jagged lines, especially during rapid character motions. Like A-Ha’s video, “Take on me’s” rotoscoped portion. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A-ha, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Take_on_Me, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EXxMlIExpo)
Nor-evolved animation – Think Japanese Anime but more violent. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anime)
Rabbit-evolved animation – Rabbit children are easily frightened by everything. No violence is allowed. No danger is allowed. No unhappiness is allowed. Happy/sappy music must be played in the background.
Some Saurians – Think Akira, but weirder… and bloodier… and gorier. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akira_(film))
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Rabbit-evolved advice on baked beans
Squarish tins are more space-efficient than cylindrical tins.
At least three kinds of beans.
No tomato sauce. Tomato chunks are acceptable.
Lots and lots of sugar with lots and lots of varieties of sugar.
In times of expected war, don’t cook the beans. Just put the raw beans in the tin… minus the sugar and sauce. People can use the raw beans to plant their own gardens if necessary.
MORE WAR INFORMATION NOR RESISTANCE (WRIT TEN 9/11/2010) The tall Hominids have invaded deeper into the previously-mentioned Nor continent, performing as high-skilled commando assault teams. They are preparing the way for shorter Hominids, who are currently landing and taking over the coastal cities. The new arrivals have less-advanced military technology. An armed resistance movement has begun. The Nor have discovered that the tall Hominids don’t do well in their body armour during the heat of the desert day, but they have excellent night-vision goggles for a cooler night-time. 2417 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Laws and customs enable previous generations to unintentionally impose themselves on the current generation. Circumstances change. People need to change. Customs need to change. Governments need to change. Constitutions need to change.
ANOTHER WAVE (WRITTEN 10/11/2010) SPOTTY TELEPHONE SAN ITIZERS In the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, Douglas Adams wrote that we were descended from the “spotty telephone sanitizer” rejects from the planet of Golgafrinch. “Spotty telephone sanitizers” are people in society who are considered to be useless and/or burdensome to the society. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_minor_The_Hitchhiker's_Guide_to_the_Galaxy _characters#Telephone_Sanitizer) Many Hominid sub-Empires have shipped their “spotty telephone sanitizers” to our cluster of galaxy clusters as the “lead” invading military and settlers. Their own governments (and/or corporations) expect a high mortality rate. If the people in the initial waves of military and settlers are lucky, they’ll survive the war and earn a lot of money. They may even defoliate the planet, and/or genocide the “primitives”. 2418 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The earliest Australian settlers were “spotty telephone sanitizers”; they nearly starved to death. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Australia_(1788%E2%80%931850))
5 – 15 BILLION ARRIVE 5-15 billion colonists and military have recently arrived in the Milky Way, in yet another wave of the invasion. They are landing on low-tech “primitive” planets, as well as Earth-technology planets. Each invasion-wave originates from a different sub-Empire cluster, this wave from further away than the previously-mentioned “Main Hominid Zone”. Non-Hominids attempt to measure how “friendly” the colonists/military are before they reach their destination. If possible, groups considered to be too hostile have their transports destroyed en-route. Friendlier groups are requested to land at planets designated for Hominids. Those that don’t land at such Hominid-designated planets are considered to be less friendly. Contracts and treaties dictate the invasion. Non-Hominids are determining which sub-Empires and which Empire clusters really wish to invade. Many sub-Empires commit the minimum amount of resources that are required by their contracts/treaties. For example: Some sub-Empires fulfil their obligations for onemillion military personnel by claiming their guard-dogs and house-cats are part of that million. Overly-aggressive sub-Empires, even if very-very distant, are subject to retaliation. The same can be said for sub-Empire clusters.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought A clever opponent encourages their enemy to drink lots of (metaphorical) coffee/caffeine. That way, their enemy doesn’t feel any symptoms of (metaorganism) disease; they won’t know they’re dead until after they have died.
EARTH (WRITTEN 10/11/2010) Off-planet Hominids are once-again being allowed to land on Earth, in small numbers. Non-hominid leaders and military are straddling a fine-line between letting Earth be secretly invaded by off-planet Hominids, having Earth be overtly invaded enmasse via “We’re protecting you from the Reptiloids!” disclosure, or being planetoided. Just as off-planet Hominids have silently infiltrated Earth’s population, hominids from other sub-Empires and sub-Empire clusters follow the same modus operandii, silently infiltrating disclosed planets.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Having www.YouTube.com take down an exceptionally-good video of Greys is concerning. (I have put my low quality-backup on the video on http://www.disclosuree.com/AliensInMyFuckingHouseYouTubeVideo.avi.) Discovering that someone has claimed my web page to be “unsafe” is getting a bit more conspiratorial.
By the way, Microsoft very-quickly fixed the problem.
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November 12, 2011
TYPICAL OFF-PLANET HOMINID TECHNOLOGY LEVEL 0 –REFUGEES, RETIREES, AND DISSIDENTS ON EARTH Nearly all of the off-planet Hominids on Earth DON’T wish to be involved in the war. They’re merely looking for a nice place to live. Their weaponry includes:
“Text-message-only” telepathy package
Golf carts
3G mobile phones
LEVEL A – ESTIMATED “TECH” OF MAFIA/WAR-CAPABLE OFFPLANET HOMINIDS ON EARTH
“Starter” telepathy package
Earth pistols, rifles, and weaponry
City-block nukes – Not that many.
Semi-weapons – Like soul zappers/illuminators, and soul trackers
Various bots, including some military bots
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November 12, 2011
LEVEL B – TYPICAL INFANTRY TECHNOLOGY OF NEARBY HOMINID SUB-EMPIRES
Single and dual-rotor helicopters with limited extradimensional technology. They are very difficult to see, and very quiet.
Jet fighters with limited extradimensional technology.
Spaceplanes
Pistols and rifles with extradimensional bullets – These guns are less deadly than Earth military-rifles, but they are silent. Bullets typically leave no entry or exit wound, nor do they leave a bullet. They are more dangerous against people in encounter suits than our guns.
Much-larger nukes
Ground-to-air missiles
Military bots – Very deadly.
Other weapons – Carbon-grey gas. Viscous white-fog gas. Sub-baryonic rain. 2-5 ton incendiary bombs with 1-km diameter fireballs, carried by dual-rotor helicopters.
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November 12, 2011
LEVEL C - INFANTRY
Small-business telepathy package, with limited database access
Very-good rifles
Extradimensional Wolverine claws (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolverine_(comics))
Planet-range nuclear missiles
Encounter suits that look like our spacesuits, combined with Aliens-2-like walker machines that they stand in. Walker machines can travel extradimensionally. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aliens_(film))
Body armour
Soul detonators
LEVEL D - INFANTRY
Enterprise telepathy package, near-“Jedi” quality (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_(Star_Wars))
Beam weapons
Extradimensional strap-on weapons, including beam weapons and telekinesis
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November 12, 2011 Molecular disruptor blades
Battle-enabled encounter suits –Some include time bending.
Soul grabbers/detachers with two battery packs.
LEVEL E (AND ABOVE) - SOME NON-HOMINID INFANTRY
Jedi-class telepathy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_(Star_Wars))
Multiple replacement-bodies
Soul grabber/detacher, with FOUR battery packs, not just two.
A randomly deep thought During a storm, call on God (and maybe the aliens) but row away from the rocks. Be sure to take some time to place some warning marker-buoys while you’re there. (http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/God, English proverb)
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November 12, 2011
WHY THE HIGHEST-“TECH” HOMINIDS ARE INVOLVED IN THE WAR The highest “tech” Hominids live in sub-Empire clusters many taurospheres away, on the other side of our taurosphere cluster. Most of the sub-Empire clusters are at war with high-tech “reptiloids” and/or others. Our local taurospheres are like South America, during the cold war. Because the United States was fighting a cold war with the Soviet Union (in the Northern Hemisphere), South America experienced discounted weapons and military “advisors” from the two warring parties in the North. Chile is analogy. The United States didn’t like Allende, so they helped Pinochet perform a coup. No-one in the United States would want to live under such a dictatorship, nor would they wish to support one. To the United States government, what was more important, the cold war with the Soviet Union, or imposing authoritarian rule on 15 million Chileans? (The opposing non-Hominids wish to point out that they are nothing like the Soviet Union.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvador_Allende, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinochet, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chile) Unlike the Chile example, many of the highest-tech Hominids wish to colonize our taurosphere, both because of the wealth gained by colonization, and because they are trying to migrate to a defensible position, further from their enemies.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Intelligent life exists within Earth’s planetary defense “crystal” network. Existence there is nothing like the movie, Tron, though. People living within the defense network can communicate with one another and access Earth’s telemetry. They can also “ride” in the bodies of Hominids and animals on the planet via people’s telepathy implants and invisible cameras. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tron_(film))
HIDING CHILDREN During World War II, London-dwelling parents sent their children into the countryside for safety. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evacuations_of_civilians_in_Britain_during_World_Wa r_II) Recently, parents expecting Hominids to attack their planets, shipped their children off to holiday camps on remote planets. Nazis never made it into the British countryside to kidnap London’s children. As the invading Hominids have invaded “primitive” planets, many have kidnapped or killed children in the holiday camps. To make their children less-likely to be taken hostage, parents have disguised their children as less-wealthy children, and/or drug-rehabilitation children:
They ship their children off without any significant possessions.
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November 12, 2011 They send their children to rinky-dink “summer” camps on “primitive” planets, some of them detox oriented.
They remove all body and soul IDs that they can find.
Most painful of all... many parents mind-wipe their children, killing off the lower portions of their souls. This creates immediate amnesia in their children, preventing mind-reading Hominids from gauging how valuable the children are as hostages. Unfortunately, mind-wipes are usually permanent. Parents fear that after the war is over, their children won’t remember them.
A deeply random thought A single Hominid battleship has enough arsenal to kill 500m – 1000m people on Earth. 100m – 250m people on most other planets, which have a much lower population density.
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November 12, 2011
QUATERNION EMF/EMR E
Q U A T E RN I ON
Contemporary physics mathematically imagines light to be an electric-field sinewave in one direction, with a magnetic-field cosine-wave perpendicular to it. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sine) The sine/cosine combination can be imagined as a line rotating clockwise around a centre-point on two-dimensional graph, with one axis being real numbers, and the other imaginary numbers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imaginary_number) The “angular momentum” of the line determines the wavelength/frequency of the light. The more “energy” in the “angular momentum”, the shorter the wavelength and higher the frequency. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angular_momentum) What happens if the line’s rotation is no longer constrained to a two dimensional space (real + imaginary), but is allowed to move over an N-dimensional quaternion space? (real + i + j + k) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaternion) How can an engineer perturb the line’s “angular momentum” off the electromagnetic plane, creating non-electromagnetic EMR? What if the line isn’t really a line? In a two-dimensional electromagnetic space, the line is anchored at (0 + 0i) and extends to a fixed point of (amplitude * (cos (theta) - i * sin (theta))). In quaternion space, limiting the endpoint of the line to a point is oversimplifying. What could the shape/sweep of the line’s “endpoint” be?
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Some extradimensional satellites orbit around planets in freefall. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freefall) Others, called “crawlers”, hover just above the surface, but speed anywhere along the planet’s surface, usually in another layer. Extradimensional missiles rapidly fly in an arc to their destination. Because these devices travel extradimensionally, they find it difficult to reach places on Earth where the ground level is below the surrounding extradimensional landscape. Such areas feel “stuffy” to some people.
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November 12, 2011
THIS WON’T WORK, BUT SOMETHING LIKE IT MIGHT
One continuous cable/pipe filling a beam-constructing volume, using various loop configurations
Has this been tried? How about a DC current with very-low voltage but very-high amperage? How can the conductor be kept from turning into an electric-stove coil and overheating? Some amplitude-modulating tricks might prove interesting. A very-low-frequency DC 2 sawtooth-ish wave modulated by a higher-frequency DC sine -wave, would produce a very-low-frequency “low voltage” DC current, with higher-frequency overtones. What about frequency-modulating the wave? A semi-superconductor might work. Or... different metals have different impedances for very-low voltage vs. very-high voltage. Some gasses might also work. 2431 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 What is the purple liquid/slime reported in a UFO crash mentioned in The Disclosure Project’s 4-hour video? (http://www.disclosureproject.org/)
A deeply random thought I hate having awareness dreams with crocodile-evolved people. They’re always sneaking up on me underwater, and behind me on the ground.
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November 12, 2011
HANDS (PART 1) DEER VS. ELK
Left: Deer hand, right: Elk hand
A randomly deep thought Many moons (or moon-like planets) have their centers hollowed out. Spaceplanes can be hidden inside. A “homing beacon” and a “catch” system lets spaceplanes quickly and stealthily enter the moon’s void. Conversely, spaceplanes leaving can be “sling-shotted” out of the core, much like fighter jets get a boost when taking off from an aircraft carrier.
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November 12, 2011
ONAGER VS. PONY VS. HORSE
Left to right: Onager hand, Pony hand, Horse hand
A deeply random thought The “talking war” is not just useful as a way to stop the war. It helps one side find potential immigrants/employees to be recruited after the war.
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November 12, 2011
HARE VS. RABBIT
Left: Hare hand, right: Rabbit hand
A randomly deep thought CDs and DVDs don’t exist off-planet. Small “media cubes” contain tens-ofthousands of hours of music (or hundreds of hours of video). Yes, there is an inexpensive music cube of “Earth’s Greatest Hits.”
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 5) LEOPARD SHOPPING-CENTRE SUBURB
Conveniently-located shopping
Hidden underground, there are no unsightly shopping-centre buildings.
The shopping centre is conveniently accessed by wealthy lakeside-families via secure underground passageways from their homes. Wealthy Leopardteenagers spend a LOT of money.
People from inland suburbs access the shopping centre via a subway.
Wealthy early-teens can sit on the skylight and moon the people below; it’s a Leopard thing. Troublesome Leopard-teens can be identified by their spots.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Hominids genetically modified by non-Hominids are known as “warts” to GHE Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
SIMIAN SPIRAL RAMP-WAY
Ramp-ways should be fun
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought At night, try waving a white LED light in front of your eyes. White LED lights produce UV. You might be able to see some ultraviolet colors, Lemon Tart (or Ultraviolet Lime, for those of you without a sense of humor), and Blorple (or Ultraviolet blue-purple).
LEADERSHIP (PART 1) HOW TO MAKE AN EARTH-POLITICIAN’S LIFE DIFFICULT
Over centuries, create a bureaucracy and civil-service that is a nightmare to manoeuvre through. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yes_minister)
Encourage politicians to pray to God, which is fine... and then listen to telepathic “thumps” from marketing angels.
Politicians must make “intuitive” decisions all of the time. Intuition is easily modified by telepathic suggestion.
Send awareness dreams to politicians, building on their fears/hopes, and/or predictions of the future. (See the quote about Abraham Lincoln’s death-dream below.)
Have “I almost started a war that would have killed one million people...”, telepathically “thumped” to leaders after particularly bad negotiations with rogue nations. Use bots to harass leaders into inaction and/or toning 2439 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 down their rhetoric... which might be a good thing, but which also leads to inaction.
All of the politician’s advisors are likewise affected.
Many of the voters listen to marketing angels. Their religious leaders certainly do... by definition.
The media is dumbed down to one-liners, not to mention corporatecontrolled.
A mentally-weak opposition hurts a government. Politicians should spend some time thinking 20+ years out. It’s difficult enough to get one’s own party thinking about a long-term vision/plan... For any vision/plan to be instantiated into long-term law, the vision/plan must also be negotiated with the opposition. If the opposition is mentallyweak and can only think three years out, then negotiations will always degenerate into “How can we get you to fail so we win the next election?” Inane issues, like anti-flag-burning constitutional amendments, are the symptoms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flag_burning_amendment) If the opposition is so mentally-weak that don’t win enough seats to be worth negotiating with, then the politician’s party has less impetus to think 20+ years out.
Determine which techniques most-constrain individual leaders, and perfect the techniques over the leaders’ careers.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Abraham Lincoln’s Dream – Quoted from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assassination_of_Abraham_Lincoln. “About ten days ago, I retired very late. I had been up waiting for important dispatches from the front. I could not have been long in bed when I fell into a slumber, for I was weary. I soon began to dream. There seemed to be a deathlike stillness about me. Then I heard subdued sobs, as if a number of people were weeping. I thought I left my bed and wandered downstairs. There the silence was broken by the same pitiful sobbing, but the mourners were invisible. I went from room to room; no living person was in sight, but the same mournful sounds of distress met me as I passed along. I saw light in all the rooms; every object was familiar to me; but where were all the people who were grieving as if their hearts would break? I was puzzled and alarmed. What could be the meaning of all this? Determined to find the cause of a state of things so mysterious and so shocking, I kept on until I arrived at the East Room, which I entered. There I met with a sickening surprise. Before me was a catafalque, on which rested a corpse wrapped in funeral vestments. Around it were stationed soldiers who were acting as guards; and there was a throng of people, gazing mournfully upon the corpse, whose face was covered, others weeping pitifully. 'Who is dead in the White House?' I demanded of one of the soldiers, 'The President,' was his answer; 'he was killed by an assassin.' Then came a loud burst of grief from the crowd, which woke me from my dream. I slept no more that night; and although it was only a dream, I have been strangely annoyed by it ever since.”
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November 12, 2011
EXPERIMENTS IN GOVERNMENT In the GHE (and other empires):
Sub-Empires are intentionally varied. Some are more authoritarian. Some are more multiracial. Some have slavery. Some have public healthcare. Etcetera.
Sub-empires learn from each other’s experiments.
Sub-empires that fail miserably are allowed to be taken over by some of the leadership of successful sub-empires. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_Atreides)
The United States federal government used to allow states to control most of their own affairs. Today, power is wielded by the federal government... which is as expected, because the world has “shrunk”. The Unites States must now learn from experiments conducted in other nations. Unfortunately for the US, many Americans still think that the US is “Number 1”. The “United Statesians” are reluctant to learn from the experiences and experiments of other nations; just because it worked for the Canadians, Europeans, Australians, Russians, Chinese, South Americans, and Indians, doesn’t mean it will work for us. For example: The metric system. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metric_system_in_the_United_States)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Australia is a kinder, gentler democracy.
MUSIC (PART 1)
Ants (two-legged) square-dance – A drone is sung, overlaid by lyrical clicks (and other sounds). A simple repeating pitch-pattern in the drone applies prosodic emphasis to the words. People square-dance to the music. The local group, “Ants in your mouth”, will be playing live at a bunker near you.
Assassin-bug evolved – Rhythmic and melodic music is produced from various body parts, either using innate sound-generation ability, or taps and slaps.
Cheetah music – None. Music distracts them from watching the wildebeest heard.
Earth orchestral music – It’s too harmonically complex, and too rhythmically simple.
Earth pop music – Pop is too rhythmically simple for most races, except the Cheetahs. Everyone likes the cool sounds though.
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November 12, 2011 Leopard new-age plunks – New-age arrhythmic music featuring bells and plucked strings. Long pauses often occur between notes. There is very little melody. No harmony.
Saurian RAGE music – Heavy metal plus punk, combined with a lot of teeth. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heavy_metal_music, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punk_rock, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_Image_Limited)
Unnamed carnivorous marsupial race – Opera/choral music similar to the Farscape theme music, but worse ????? (inoffensive-sounding word goes here). Disclaimer: I haven’t actually heard it, but that’s what all of their (soon-to-be-castrated) males say. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Farscape, http://www.televisiontunes.com/Farscape_-_Full_Version.html)
A randomly deep thought High-tech civilizations often have light (and dark) rooms, which are like holographic versions of Star Trek’s Holodeck. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holodeck) Children enjoy interacting with three-dimensional computer-simulated characters in their family light-room. The light/dark rooms at shopping malls are always better though; they even accept credit cards.
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November 12, 2011
CHILDREN’S/ADULT TOY S (PART 4) HORSE-EVOLVED CARD GAME
Horse-evolved people can’t easily pick up, flip over, and hold cards, so the game is based on NOT holding the cards.
Cards are two sided, with uncorrelated images on each side. One side might be illustrations of leaves, fruits, vegetables, and grains. The other side of animals, cars, houses, and kitchen appliances. Each of these objects has a primary colour and a secondary colour.
When someone is first handed their cards, they are allowed to look at and memorize the cards’ backs, before they must place the card on the table. To do well in the game, players must remember which shape/colour appears on the back of each card.
The cards are placed food-side up... if the players are hungry.
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November 12, 2011 Various Poker-like games exist, scoring based on sequences. Unlike Poker, the ordering of the food-side is LESS important that the ordering of the memorized face-down side. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poker)
Unlike macropods, we do NOT eat our cards.
A deeply random thought The GHE invasion includes embedded reporters, much like the Iraqi war. Invaders also have embedded television shows, reality-based and fiction, that take advantage of the warfare and settlement locales. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Embedded_reporter)
POST-APOCALYPTIC WORLDS (PART 1) Many-many planets have experienced serious wars. All that is left of the civilization are concrete buildings and steel railway lines. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twelve_monkeys, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamma_World) Destroyed planets are sometimes abandoned by the people who lived on them. The people who destroyed the abandoned planet are sometimes deposited there… without technology. Without the need to build new buildings, mine ores, compete 2446 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 with intelligent competitors for land/resources, and defend themselves against previously-genocided animal-predators, the race genetically degrades into hunter/gatherers over a hundred generations. Starting 80,000 years ago, Earth was populated (in part) by Hominids taken off of post-apocalyptic worlds.
A randomly deep thought Leopard-evolved people prefer watching television by daylight. Night-viewed television is scary for genetic reasons. Once in awhile, the television is turned on after sunset for a really-good horror movie accompanies by shiskabobs. Darkened movie theaters aren’t very popular.
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November 12, 2011
ENGINEERING (PART 1) DIGITAL CAMERA
5x5 to 9x9 array of CCDs, reducing the cost of the silicon and lenses. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge-coupled_device)
A digital (and piezoelectric crystal) calibration process counteracts some lens defects.
Lots of processing is required to blend the individual overlapping images of the CCD array.
There is no need to focus.
Close-ups only use the centre CCD and lens.
Overlapping lens information produces better night shots.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought In an education system that simplistically emphasizes “reading, riting, and rithmatic”, there is no room to overtly discuss discussions, ways of thinking, other people’s motivations, etcetera. “English/literature” class should be relabeled so it isn’t about spelling and reading Greek mythology. “Social studies” should do more than linearly narrate history.
SILICON DROPLETS... THIS WON’T WORK, BUT SOMETHING LIKE IT MIGHT
Instead of creating a flat silicon wafer, place 0.01-cc molten silicon droplets on a surface and let them cool. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silicon_wafer)
Print/laser the transistors onto the droplet. Easier said than done.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought When I was 10, a friend chided me: “You always do things the hard way.” I usually like to try to invent the wheel myself, without first consulting any books or people. Inevitably, my wheel doesn’t work well as the real thing. Once I have re-invented the wheel, I then research wheels that other people have invented. From their inventions, I determine how my invented wheel can be tweaked (evolutionary design) by incorporating any ideas presented by other people’s wheels.
LIGHT-TRANSMITTING DIODES Metals easily transmit electrons. Inert gasses easily transmit light. Atoms in-between easily transmit particles between electrons and light. Diodes control the transmission of electrons, using electrons as a switch and power source. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diode) Other kinds of diodes might enable the transmission/passage of light through the diode’s very-thin “metal”, kind of like a liquid-crystal display... resulting in cheaper
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November 12, 2011 42” televisions. Particles in-between electrons and light are somehow relevant. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquid_crystal_display)
A randomly deep thought Soul-icide – Like pesticide or herbicide for the soul. The symptoms and effects are: For a few days…
You feel somewhat like you’re in a dream.
You feel like the whole world is “bad” or “uncomfortable” or “oppressive”. Sunrises and sunsets are no longer enjoyable.
At its worse, you feel like you’re in hell.
Your soul feels “crusty”, like it can’t breathe or flex.
The long term effects are lower-soul injury …
It is difficult to think. You need to find different ways of thinking and solving problems.
You forget memories, and/or they dim.
The ability to remember may also be impaired, and must be re-trained and/or re-exercised.
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November 12, 2011
DIRECTIONALLY-RESISTANT METALS Contemporary conductors (like copper) exhibit the same impedance in all directions, X, Y, and Z. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrical_impedance) Some metals can be purified into different-shaped atoms. Some of those shapes, when slowly cooled into a crystal while under a field, form conductors whose impedance varies depending on the direction of the electric current. The direction of low-impedance ISN’T necessarily in the X, Y, or Z planes, but can be in an extradimensional direction. Doping the pure atoms might enable the production of transistors; doped atoms short-circuit the directional impedance inherent in the pure crystals. Some metal atoms, when shape-purified and crystallized, create directional semisuperconductors at room temperatures. Is the ideal crystallization-cooling field parallel to, or extradimensionally perpendicular to, the desired low-impedance direction?
A deeply random thought There is a four-leg walking, two-leg standing space-faring race that looks almost exactly like Thylacoleo. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thylacoleo)
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November 12, 2011
SEMI-SUPERCONDUCTING COIL (FOR SAMOYED CRAZY SWINGS) 1.
Begin with a molten DR (directionally-resistant) metal, shaped in a helixcoil mould.
2.
Cool the metal slowly under a field, to form a crystal.
3.
Because the direction of low-impedance must follow the helix-coil, the cooling-applied field generator mechanism can be a small loop around the cooling helix-coil wire. While the motel metal cools, rapidly move the fieldgenerator mechanism back-and-forth along a track, following the helix-coil pattern.
A randomly deep thought Pen and paper role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons are very common in both Hominid and non-Hominid civilizations. They are not necessarily popular.
MINI-EXTRADIMENSIONAL ENG INES We don’t have the technology to build these, but here’s the gist. 1.
Begin with a very-good DR metal. (See above.)
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November 12, 2011 2. Line the inside of a 5 mm diameter cup with the molten metal. 3.
Cool the metal under a field, as per the semi-superconducting coil. (See above.) The tricky part is that a field generator on a track doesn’t quite work. Some other mechanism must be used to generate a curved field.
4.
This process produces a helix-coil on a molecular level. Current travels mostly-horizontally, helixing down to the open bottom of the cup. The current DOESN’T travel vertically due to the DR metal’s very-high impedance in that direction.
5.
Potentially loop the coil back up, with some insulation in-between helixes.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Crappy “Chinese” food (Eaten on some Hominid planets)
Chicken or chicken-like dinosaur-cattle pieces on one side of a rectangular takeaway container. Covered in a gloopy semi-transparent translucent sauce laden with MSG and preservatives.
Buckwheat egg-noodles on the other side of the rectangular takeaway container. With token vegetables, including baby corn piece, carrot slice, and zucchini slice.
We seem to be the only planet that uses sporks!
TRIANGLE SPACEPLANE Do NOT use large extradimensional engines for triangle spaceplanes. Large extradimensional engines are meant to be used in pie-plate UFOs. Large engines unevenly melt the hull of a triangle spaceplane. Due to the uneven melting, the engines might even dislodge and “fall out” of the flying spaceplane. 2455 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Triangular spaceplanes can be better-constructed using millions of mini extradimensional-engines aligned into a grid, like bubble wrap. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bubble_wrap)
1.
Cover the inside of the triangle-UFO’s hull with the bubble wrap. Don’t forget to “glue” the engines to the hull. (The triangle-UFO’s skin will need to be constructed of a special metal.)
2.
Lay over a weave of “fibre-optic” cables, and glue-gun the weave onto the engines.
3.
Electrons DON’T move through “fibre-optic” cables. A particle in-between electrons and light does.
4.
The internal cabin lining of the spaceplane must be made of a different metal.
5.
It must be lined with different bubble-wrap engines, counteracting the field created by the external engines. This maintains a constant physics pressurization inside.
6.
The engines not only let the spaceplane fly, they can also be used to create cool effects like a red-brown “meteor” flare from stem to stern. Or even a very bright spotlight. (See Pissed-off triangle UFO)
7.
Triangle spaceplanes are flown with the pointy end in the back!
8.
Consult your local Saurian or Grey engine dealer for engine pricing!
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Hominids (and especially off-planet Hominids) self-select themselves into those who don’t mind living in a metaorganism, and those that do. When Hominids are genetically-modified (or bred through self-selection) so that they don’t mind living in a metaorganism, things become very scary.
SMALL EXTRADIMENSIONAL ENGINES
Cup, 20 mm in diameter.
The helix-coils within the cup are manufactured somewhat-like the helixcoils for the Samoyed Crazy Swing.
They are powered by an electric current, rather than smaller-than-electron particles.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought IQ-70 people that live in a hamlet (population 150) realize that their butcher is a person, has feelings, as well as a personal life. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunbar%27s_number) IQ-70 people that live in New York City see their butchers as vending machines and price gougers.
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November 12, 2011
EXTRADIMENSIONAL PERSONAL HELICOPTER
One-man personal helicopters are quite popular on some planets, especially when computer controlled/assisted.
Titanium (?) outer skin.
Small extradimensional engines scattered all over the inside of the outer skin.
Passenger-compartment skin made of a different metal, with slightlydifferent engines for passenger comfort.
The small extradimensional engines push the helicopter into lower gravity, making it lighter. The helicopter’s rotor can be half the length. Its engine can be ½ the size. Because the heavy engine is ½ the size, the engine no longer needs to lift as much of its own weight, so the final engine only needs to be 1/3 – 1/4 the size.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought In my 20’s…
I decided that I eventually wanted to get off planet… when disclosure happened.
… which made marriage less likely. “I will only marry you if you are willing to move to another planet.” High geek points (20% chance of marriage) x women who don’t think you’re crazy if you believe in aliens (2% of women) x women that want to move off planet if aliens do exist (10% of women) = 0.04% chance of marriage. (I get extra geek points for actually calculating the probability. )
… and children become problematic; it’s difficult to find a school for them.
Moving to a less-populated portion of the world was also beneficial. Not many people get abducted in New York City.
After leaving Microsoft, I very-briefly considered trying to get a “top secret” job and working my way into the “alien program”, but decided not to.
Any students reading this document must also consider:
What major/career is most likely to get one a job on another planet?
Most off-planet Hominids live in the US, Russia, and China.
If non-Hominids decide to live on Earth, island-nations are somewhat safer for non-Hominids, because extremists can be kept off them.
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November 12, 2011
“2 LITRES PER 100 KM” AUTOMOBILE
Attach the engine (0.5 litre) to the centre of the wheel shaft. It rotates the wheel shaft directly.
The engine and the wheel shaft swivel around the mid-point between the wheels.
This results in an abysmal turning angle, until the rear wheels are swivelled in the contrary direction.
The changes save weight, fuel, and automobile construction costs.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Some people distantly related to “Greys” (the “Greys” are also distantly related to them! ) don’t use street numbers, like “52 Pine Street”. Instead, their addresses are either an intersection “Sequoia – Second”, or a section of the street between two intersections, “Ash – Sequoia – Second”. Addresses that spell out swear words are more valuable. (Other words are also valuable.) Enterprising computer programmers have written combinatorial software to name streets in subdivisions to maximize property values based on address names. Additional complexities take into account the fact that swear-word addresses attract loud and obnoxious people, while flower-name addresses are inhabited by sedate artists. Never-ever place a swear-word building next to a flower-building, or one, and then both, will end up being detonated by the other’s occupants.
WHAT DO PEOPLE HOPE FOR?
1900 – Central heating, electricity.
1920 – Automobile, refrigerator, no more wars.
1950 – No mar wars, television, appliances, housing, automobiles for everyone.
1960 – Jet airplanes, space travel, an end to racism, no more poverty.
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November 12, 2011
1990 – Mobile phones, computers.
2000 – 42” flat-screen televisions.
The future – Work less? Travel more? Live longer? An “alien”-based multiracial society? Get off the planet?
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Invading Hominid military personnel and settlers are given personality tests before they are assigned to a team. One such test determines which meta-race they are most likely to hate. “Have you or your family ever been attacked by cat-evolved people?” a)
“My entire family was massacred.” – If you answer yes, you are assigned to a battleship, and are one of the eight people required to simultaneously press “the button” to nuke the cat-evolved planet.
b) “My great-grandfather was killed by them.” – You might be assigned to shock-troops set to invade a cat-evolved planet. A bit of pre-existing animosity, as well as cat-evolved troops shooting at you, will convince you to shoot back. c)
“I rather like cats.” – You will be assigned to the Wolfen planet!
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November 12, 2011
PEACEKEEPING QUELLING-FORCE HOW MANY PEOPLE WORK FOR THE MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX? (MIC) 35% 30% 25% In MIC (low estimate)
20% 15%
In MIC (high estimate)
10% 5% 0% IQ 100
IQ 125
IQ 150
When I attended my 20-year high-school reunion in 2007, I was surprised to find that 2% - 3% of my high-school classmates were working for the military or militaryindustrial-complex. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military-industrial_complex) 7% - 10% of my cousins work for the military industrial complex, and almostcertainly have signed some sort of secrecy agreement. I currently estimate that 20% - 30% of my CalTech classmates (top 1% of geek intelligence) work for the military industrial complex, many most-likely signed secrecy agreements.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought In space-faring non-Hominid races where 80% - 95% of the males have been killed off due to the pre-war, women conceive children from the DNA of “primitive” males that no-one has bothered to kill off. Since some intelligence is stored on the Y chromosome (and other male “genomes”), most non-Hominid males are a little-bit dense… but not quite as bad as Homer Simpson. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simpsons, http://simpsons.wikia.com/wiki/Simpson_Gene)
HOW EARTH IS USEFUL TO THE GHE’S MILITARY-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX The GHE military-industrial complex could use the following Earth resources:
Food resources – Prepared foods. Livestock such as cattle, sheep, turkeys, and chickens. Farming machinery and fishing vessels.
Infantry weaponry – Pistols, rifles, body armour, grenades, etc.
Vehicles – Cars, trucks, helicopters, and fighter jets.
Raw materials – Petroleum, already-purified fissile materials, and alreadymined gold.
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November 12, 2011 People o
Trained military – Our troops are already trained and kept “up to scratch” via peacekeeping operations in Afghanistan, Iraq, Columbia, Africa, etcetera.
o
Colonists
Some of our MIC resources aren’t useful off-planet:
Public air transportation – Spaceplanes work better than 747’s.
Aurora TR-3B spaceplane – Off-planet Hominids have better spaceplanes. According to “the aliens”, the Aurora is useful as a spy-plane, for observing (some) UFOs, and as a silent nuclear-weapons delivery platform. It cannot yet get far into space. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBptSTzqaqo, http://www.disclose.tv/action/viewvideo/58798/UFO___The_TR_3B_Astra_ __The_Aurora_Black_Manta/, http://watch2video.net/ufo-sighting-overparis-france-or-tr-3b-aurora-project-in-night-vision-videoVX0Hu8jrYOv.html)
Satellites – Extradimensional satellites work better.
Large battle ships – They’re too large to be transported.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought This document may well be an intelligence test and/or job interview.
HOW THE GHE COULD USE EARTH’S MIC The GHE’s MIC doesn’t appear to wish to bring Earth into the war:
Earth’s MIC production is not militarily hardened. If Earth were brought into the war, all military production capabilities could easily be destroyed.
Earth’s militaries are unlikely to wish to fight non-Hominids because there is no personal animosity yet. This doesn’t mean that Earth couldn’t sell its weapons to the GHE MIC though.
If a truce is agreed to, the GHE could disclose to Earth, and...
Food and food equipment could be exported.
Military equipment could be exported. This would include training for offplanet Hominids.
Colonists could be recruited.
Earth’s militaries and their equipment could be flown to another planet in less time than it takes them to get to Iraq. 2468 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 With a bit of recruiting, the militaries from the US, Russia, China, and Europe could be used as “peacekeeping” forces on four-ish 250m-population nonHominid Earth-technology planets. Many non-Hominid races are much more quiescent and less-well armed than Earth’s Hominids, such as Iraqis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq)
A deeply random thought Can the Queen/King of England appoint a future retired-president of the United States (man or woman) to the Australian office of the Governor General? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Governor-General_of_Australia)
BEWARE “PEACEKEEPING” VENTURES ON NON -HOMINID PLANETS If Earth corporations and/or troops were to take part in “peacekeeping” on nonHominid planets, the non-Hominids might see the venture as “quelling”. Some consequences to Earth’s MICs participating in “quelling” might be:
The destruction of three Aurora TR-3B spaceplanes on the tarmac.
Blockades
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November 12, 2011 Destruction of military supplies, including jet fighters, helicopters, ground vehicles, and nukes.
Destruction of MIC manufacturing sites.
Destruction of MIC offices.
This could lead to the GHE installing planetary defenses, as well as retaliatory interplanetary-missiles.
Which could lead to a larger attack on the Earth.
If the Earth’s military corporations are working clandestinely with off-planet Hominids without the consent/knowledge of their governments, then “topsecret” divisions of private corporations could lead the Earth into interplanetary war.
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November 12, 2011
MORE WAYS OF THINKING (PART 3) MENTALLY MODELLING PEOPLE AND METAORGANI SMS IN PARALLEL EXAMPLES
Prediction If you say “Hello”, to your friend, what are his five most likely responses? If you say “Let’s go for a walk”, what are his likely reactions and their probabilities? If you say, “Let’s go for a walk” when it is raining, what are his likely reactions and their probabilities? Without looking at your friend’s face for emotional queues, what do you think he is thinking about? What are the probabilities? How much money do you think your friend has in his wallet?
Prediction when not co-located On an arbitrary day, when your friend isn’t around, can you guess what he is doing that day? At that moment? What possible activities could he be doing? If you later ask your friend, “What did you do two days ago?”, and he says, “I went water skiing?” will you change your “mental/prediction model” of him? If so, if in ten days time, when you think, “What is he doing now?”, do you assign a higher probability to “water skiing”? To “packing up the boat”?
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November 12, 2011 If your friend said he went “water skiing” two days ago, do you re-write your hypothetical history of what he did yesterday to be a 50% chance of recovering from sunburn?
Templates If your friend went water skiing, does the probability your other friends going water skiing rise? Do you have “template mental models” you can call on? Bill, one of your other friends, wears football-fan shirts. If you see a stranger wearing a football-fan shirt, do you begin your interaction with the stranger as if he had Bill’s personality? If the football-fan T-shirt stranger expresses and interest in ballet, does that mean that Bill (your friend) might also be interested in the ballet? If Bill cannot answer existential philosophical questions, does that mean that all football-fans are incapable of philosophy? Are you capable of revising your mental model of Bill from (“Football fan” + “Bill’s personal experiences”), to (“Geek” + learned to be a “Football fan” when he grew up because of his father + “Bill’s personal experiences”).
Metaorganisms What is your mental model for what General Motors is doing? Or their CEOs?
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November 12, 2011 If you learn that General Motors lost money, can you revise your mental models of General Motors’ CEOs, as well as back-track your assumedhistories of the CEOs? What is your mental model of the economy? What is your mental model of the Earth’s governments? How does the economy metaorganism affect the government metaorganisms? How do those metaorganisms affect the General Motors metaorganism? General Motors’ CEOs? Bill’s life? Your friend’s ability to water ski? And vice versa.
Identifying missing mental models If your mental-model of Earth’s governments doesn’t sufficiently predict what is happening on Earth, do you wonder if extra-planetary affects like aliens might be interfering with Earth politics?
A deeply random thought If the nations of Earth aren’t willing to form a United Nations, then the corporations will fill in the gap.
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November 12, 2011
HOW MUCH DO YOU MENTALLY MODEL?
Most of my perceived world (IQ 150-ish) is mentally modelled, as described above.
The world of most Homo Sapiens (IQ 100-ish) is a combination of “the colocated present” and memories. If you ask someone how the economy is doing, they will remember the last news-article they read/heard about the economy and quote that. I will consult my mental model of the economy, which is re-calibrated and systematically fine-tuned as I read news-articles.
The world of most animals is visual, audio, olfactory, and tactile stimuli from “the present”. They do not have memories, but they do heave “learnings”. If you ask animals about the economy, they won’t know what it is. If you ask them what they did on their third birthday, they won’t remember. (A bit of a hyperbole.) If you ask them whether they like chocolate birthday cake, which they only ever ate on their third birthday party, they will answer, “Yes”.
At IQs of 200-ish, people’s worlds include the systems behind the mental models. The co-located present isn’t terribly important. (Again, a hyperbole.) The purpose of the co-located present is often a means to acquiring data for the system and mental models, and/or to change the world so it converges with mental models that lead to desired outcomes. If you ask a 200-IQ person how the economy is doing, they will answer “(a) “The economy” is a gross oversimplification”, and “(b) Wouldn’t you rather hear about the systems-models that most-accurately model the economy?”
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The iron law of war in a society with controlled media – You don’t know/believe you’re in a war until the war runs through your village… in which case you’re likely dead or financially ruined. You might be in a war if your friends/relatives had their village flattened. You’re definitely in a war when war is everywhere around you, and there’s no way out.
SELF-ADMINISTERED PAVLOVI AN DINGS (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Classical_conditioning, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Pavlov) If you’re at a dinner party and say something unacceptable to the guests, such as a rude joke, do the people at the dinner table give you disapproving looks? The next time you eat dinner with them, are you AUTOMATICALLY less-likely to say a rude joke? Or do you think of a rude joke, remember that these people don’t like rude jokes, and decide not to speak it? Or, when you return home from the dinner party, do you re-evaluate what happened, determine that the rude joke didn’t go over well, and “mentally kick yourself in the butt” at the thought of saying rude jokes? If you said a joke that went over well, could you “self-congratulate yourself” upon reflection later that night? 2475 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 How many times can you self-congratulate yourself a day? Can your selfcongratulation deceive yourself into thinking you’re the most wonderful person in the world? Animals cannot self-censor and/or self-congratulate themselves. (A hyperbole.) People that self-congratulate themselves too much are narcissistic. Those that selfcensor themselves too much have an inferiority complex (kind of).
A randomly deep thought 70-ish years ago, the elderly became crotchety. Today, they get dementia and senility. The beverages we drink may have something to do with this. Beware caffeine and accompanying chemicals.
DECISION TREES I am going to have a conversation with one of my friends. At the end of the conversation, I want him to be thinking about decision trees. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decision_tree, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_theory) To ensure that he is thinking about decision trees after I leave his home, the last line I am going to say to him is, “Oops. I have an appointment. It’s time for me to go.” What should my second-to-last line be to make him think about decision trees?
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November 12, 2011 I’ll plan on saying: “I hope you realize, I intentionally manipulated the conversion to get you to this point.” He’ll respond to that statement, and then I’ll finish up the conversation with, “Oops. I have an appointment. It’s time for me to go.” If I say “I hope you realize, I intentionally manipulated the conversion to get you to this point,” what are my friend’s most likely reactions? a) “That statement is a mind-bender.” b)
“Manipulating me is a nasty thing for you to do.”
c)
“You’re joking.”
d) Totally oblivious. My statement is ignored.
I WANT my friend to respond to “I hope you realize…” with “That statement is a mind-bender,” after which I’ll respond with, “Oops. Time to go.” Then, after I leave, he’ll spend a few minutes thinking about decision trees. In the conversation leading up to my end statements, how will I ensure that my friend DOESN’T respond with “Manipulating me is a nasty thing for you to do.”? Maybe I’ll be extra-friendly to him. Maybe I’ll only bring up the decision-tree conversation when he’s in a good mood. Maybe I’ll crack some jokes (which might encourage “You’re joking” response, unfortunately). How will I ensure that my friend doesn’t respond with “You’re joking”? I’ll maintain a serious face throughout the discussion. I’ll discuss manipulating people earlier in the conversation so the concept is percolating in my friend’s mind. I’ll avoid jokes. How do I prevent the “Totally oblivious” response from happening? I might first discuss manipulating people. Then, I could switch to a totally different subject, like why tree leaves have serrated edges, or whatever my friend seems interested in. And then I might turn the conversation towards decision trees. He can mentally combine “manipulating people” and “decision trees” together by himself. 2477 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 If I plan-ahead properly, and manage the conversation well, my friend might have a 50% chance of spending some of his own time pondering decision trees. My social IQ is about 50, (hyperbole) so I can’t manage this trick. People with social IQs of 150-ish can control conversations in this manner. Social IQs of 200-ish, augmented with Jedi mind-trick skills/implants, consider this skill to be as basic as addition. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_(Star_Wars)) ) By the way, decision trees can also be used outside of conversations. “I want my opposition to lose the election. What are the ways I can encourage them to lose? How could they respond? How could I counteract their response? Etcetera.”
A randomly deep thought Some “aliens” have invented mechanical pistachio-nutcrackers and larger pistachio nuts… They produce pistachio-nut peanut-butter, and have longrange business-plans to put the US peanut-butter producers out of business. (Yet another reptiloid plot to dominate mankind.)
COULD THIS DOCUMENT REALLY BE REAL? WHY DON’T YOU BELIEVE THE CONTENTS OF THIS DOCUMENT?
I haven’t heard about it on the TV news, so it must not be true. It’s not printed on paper, so it must not be true.
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November 12, 2011 It doesn’t regurgitate standard UFO lore, so it must not be true. My friends don’t believe it, so it must not be true.
40-million off-planet Hominids living on Earth seems to be way too high of a number. Therefore, you must be wrong. Therefore, none of this document is true. If the 40-million number is wrong, then the only number that could be correct is 0 (zero)... not really. If you don’t believe 40 million, could you believe 4 million? (Does my asking you this question about whether 4-million is more appealing than 40million, affect whether you believe me?)
Various numbers, theories, and factoids seem/are wrong. Therefore, the entire document must be wrong? Or, is only part of the document invalidated? Or, are individual claims and conclusions partially invalidated? Hyperbole: If you find a spelling mistake in this document, is the entire document incorrect because of the spelling mistake?
My intuition says this document is wrong. Or, my intuition says that my intuition cannot be modified by off-planet Hominids using telepathy bots, despite what this document claims.
Why hasn’t this information appeared anywhere before? What are the odds that some aerially-enabled aliens would get someone to write this now, and not 50 years ago? Why hasn’t the government published this information? Why hasn’t some accredited UFO-ologist (I hate that name) written about this? The probability of new information being released now
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November 12, 2011 (and in such quantity) is so low that the information in the document must be a fabricated hoax.
This document is wrong, because if it is even partially correct, the world is so scary/complicated that I’d rather live in the pre-document world.
Mike was committed to a mental institution. Therefore, his credibility is suspect. Therefore, this document is the ravings of a lunatic, and is unbelievable.
This document dissolves too many mysteries, combining UFOs, with New World Order conspiracy theories, with spiritualism, and even furries.
I can understand how aliens would care about UFOs, but philosophy and edible card games are unimportant to any aliens that I can imagine.
This document makes claims not substantiated by provable/accepted facts. Therefore, it is built on a shaky foundation, and it all collapses into a heap with the least amount of scrutiny.
Carl Sagan – “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Sagan)
A deeply random thought Wearing an enemy’s uniform is a popular war-time trick to avoid getting shot (by the enemy). When fighting different races, troops may need clip-on tails, rubber face-masks, and wigs.
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November 12, 2011
A SIMPLE “PROOF” FOR THE EXISTENCE OF OFF-PLANET HOMINIDS 1.
What is the probability that aliens exist and are visiting Earth? Call that number “A”. (My pre-abduction number was 95%.)
2.
If aliens exist, what is the probability that 100 – 10,000 years ago they stopped by Earth, abducted a few thousand Homo Sapiens, and bred them off planet? Call that number “B”. (I guessed 95%.)
3.
If Homo Sapiens were bred off planet, what is the probability that aliens have returned them to Earth to help/hinder our civilization? Call this value “R”. (I incorrectly thought that the “Nordics” were such people, with 95%.)
4.
Don’t include the probability that off-planet Hominids are trying to control the planet. Rather, consider what percentage of them would try to control the planet.
5.
What is the probability that Earth isn’t policed well enough that off-planet Hominids are able to organize and control Earth’s governments? This is “P”. (Pre-abduction, I incorrectly assumed this was close to 5%.)
6.
Multiply A x B x R x P. Fill in A, B, R, and P with your own numbers. (My incorrect pre-abduction calculation was a 4.3% chance that off-planet Hominids were negatively influencing Earth’s governments.) Fine tuning...
7.
What technology would be minimally necessary to nudge the planet’s leaders into directions supported by the off-planet Hominids? Money printers and spy equipment! Invisible UFOs and telepathy (mind reading and control) aren’t really necessary.
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November 12, 2011 8.
If you asked someone if they were an alien, and they said, “No”, would you be suspicious that they were lying to you, and that they really were an alien? “No.” If you asked someone if they were an alien and they said “Yes”, how likely is it that you’d think (a) they’re joking, and/or (b) they’re insane. If you did believe them, would anyone else believe you if you told them one of your friends was an alien? “No.”
A deeply random thought Non-Hominids are sending in troops and retaking some of their planets. In the process, they’re finding and caring for Hominid war orphans. The GHE won’t let non-Hominids raise Hominid children, and has a policy of sending in commandos/bots to kill the children… which is quite asymmetrical, since Hominids typically raise non-Hominid war-orphans (and children) as pets and slaves.
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November 12, 2011
FASHION (PART 5) HYACINTHINE-MACAW, EVOLVED
Feather-extenders and jewellery (We also do sofa colour design. )
A randomly deep thought How to calculate the actual “swine flu” mortality rate – How many more people died in the second half of 2009 vs. the second half of 2008?
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November 12, 2011
LLAMA PARTY OUTFIT
Featuring rainbow-dyed dreadlocks, and V-skirt with tail uplift
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November 12, 2011
SAURIAN (FURRED)
Pleated black toga, with high-heeled shoes (Pouch exposed)
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Education-software idea – The fundamental concepts of this document are covered by several hundred pages, two hours of reading. If I could tailor the document to an individual reader, I could eliminate explanations and proofs that the individual would already know or accept, perhaps quartering the document’s length and time-to-read. A simple computer program could do the same. How many educational textbooks waste students’ time by rehashing concepts they already know? Or by not sufficiently describing concepts that confuse them?
CHEMISTRY 101 (PART 2) Molecules can be used to purify atom-shapes – Some molecules will only form from specific atom shapes. When chemically synthesizing such molecules, inappropriatelyshaped atoms often form a “sludge” that can be siphoned off. The correctlysynthesized molecules can then be deconstructed to isolate the more-pure atomshapes. Crystallized molecules can be used to orient atom-shapes, instead of using fields – Slowly-cooled molten molecules sometimes form crystals (organized molecules). Since the atom-shapes are often aligned by the molecule, atom-shapes in the crystals are also aligned. Consequently, some crystallized molecules end up arranging atom-shapes into in meaningful patterns, without the need for an external field during cooling. Rotating baryons – When baryons are “rotated” by fields or extradimensional dislocation, the sub-components of an atom’s nucleus rotate around. Such changes may cause an overall change in the shape of the nucleus. This might cause the molecule to bend into an unusual and dysfunctional shape (especially for organic 2486 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 molecules), or it may cause the molecule to break apart. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon) Planetary atom-shape distributions – Different atom-shapes of the same atom are more common on some planets than others. Small atoms, like hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen don’t have as many shapes as heavier atoms. Consequently, life created from light atoms can more-readily find nutrients (atom-shapes being important) on foreign planets. Life that relies on heavier atoms, such as silicon, has more-limited food sources and cannot be transported as easily from planet to planet.
A deeply random thought Antigravity, type A – This antigravity technology pushes gravity around. The gravity field under the center of the spaceplane might be twice normal gravity, while the gravity field around the amplified-gravity region has less gravity.
THE ANCIENT ART OF CONVERSATION (PART 4) LAYERED MESSAGES People sometimes “speak” one sentence and mean several very-different things.
Two (or three) different ideas/concepts may be conveyed to the listener, often through different channels of telepathy, speech, and gestures.
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Different ideas/concepts can be conveyed using only one channel, by relying on double-meanings and puns.
Other listeners might perceive different information. Good Disney films convey one message to children, and a different message to adults. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disney)
Eavesdroppers could also receive a different message.
GECKO “MIME” Person A, usually a gecko, “mimes” an idea, concept, action, or thing. The “mime” isn’t always illustrated physically. It is sometimes telepathic, auditory, or olfactory. Person B has to: 1.
Realize that person A has actually “mimed” something and begun the game.
2.
Guess what the “mime” is.
3.
If Person B thinks they know what the mime is... a) Person B must guess how person A expects person B to effectively say, “You’re miming X”. Person A might be expecting an oral response, a telepathic one, a gesture, etcetera. b) If person B doesn’t answer the mime using the correct format, then person A somehow indicates that the format of the answer is incorrect.
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November 12, 2011 The game may change from one of guessing the mime, to guessing how to tell person A that the mime has been guessed at. Return to step 2. c)
If person B incorrectly guesses the mime, then person A somehow indicates the improper guess. Depending on which unannounced rules are active, person A might allow person B more guesses or questions, or they might switch to a new mime, or they might change a rule. Return to step 2.
d) If person B guesses correctly, then it’s person B’s turn to mime. Person B has the right to change one rule... which might be the rule that only one rule is ever changed at the end of a mime. Return to step 1, but with person A and person B reversed. 4.
If person B DOESN’T think they know what the mime is... a)
Person B can ask person A a question, or speak a statement.
b) Person A expects a question/statement of a specific form, such as a “Yes” or “No” answer, a direct-on question, a side-on question, etcetera. The form is decided by person A at the start of the mime. c)
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If Person B asks the question properly... I.
Person A answers it. They might answer it in one of several forms, such as speech, telepathic, and/or with an inverted statement.
II.
If Person A makes a mistake answering the question, then they may have consumed too much gecko juice. Person B gets a few free questions. Return to step 2.
November 12, 2011 III.
Person B can only ask five questions, or fewer if they have had any fingers torn off by bullies in their school-age years. Return to step 2.
d) If person B fails to ask the question properly... I.
Person A somehow indicates that the question was answered improperly, perhaps with an answer that appears to be a proper answer... but obviously isn’t because other rules would dictate not. Return to step 2. For example: If person A is expecting a Yes/No question, and person B asks, “What colour is it?”, person A could answer “It might be red” to subtly indicate that a Yes/No response is expected.
II.
After five questions, or more, if person B has lost fingers in their childhood and gets the sympathy vote, person B must “say” what the mime is. Go to step 3.
To redescribe the game, “Gecko mime” is about communicating in a world where people eavesdrop and distort communications. The actual “mime”-message of a “Gecko mime” game-session, might be that communications are being listened to and/or distorted.
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A deeply random thought I E-mailed this document to many high-school classmates, who most-likely are NOT constrained by secrecy agreements. A percentage responded to my E-mail. I also E-mailed this document to university (Caltech) classmates, who are more-likely to be constrained by secrecy agreements. A smaller percentage of them responded to my E-mail. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech) The statistical absence of a response from my Caltech classmates, statistically indicates that many of them are constrained by secrecy agreements.
PROBLEM-SOLVING ANECDOTES (PART 1) TRYING TO TURN ON A COMPUTER, GECKO STYLE 1.
Press the “c” keyboard button to turn the “c”omputer on.
2.
If that doesn’t work, press the “o” button for on, but NOT the “o” button for off.
3.
Failing that, press the “c”, “o”, “m”, “p”, “u”, “t”, “e”, “r” keys all at once.
4.
If that doesn’t work, fling the keyboard across the room. If it happens to hit someone else in the room, and gecko fight does NOT ensue, they might act as a proxy switch to turn the computer on.
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November 12, 2011 5.
Failing that, unplug the computer and plug it in upside down.
6.
Failing that, try to cram crackers in the aeration-cooling vents. The computer might be hungry, or the gecko might just be frustrated.
7.
Failing that, turn the monitor face down; the sleep-standing computer might decide to wake up.
8.
Etcetera.
What would you do? Ask the local computer expert? Find the manual?
TRYING TO TURN ON A COMPUTER, CROCODILE-EVOLVED STYLE 1.
Press “c” button to turn the computer on.
2.
Press every key on the keyboard, sequentially, order N. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_O_notation)
3.
Press every sequential combination of two keys, order N x N.
4.
Simultaneously press every combination of two keys, order N x (N-1).
5.
Unplug the computer (flat-screen monitor), pick it up, and sneak up behind another computer user in the lab. Without making a sound, and from behind, place the computer in front of the person. See if they can turn it on.
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November 12, 2011 6. Failing that, try the same gestural question with every computer-user in the lab. Order N.
INVENTING A NEW RECIPE, HORSE-EVOLVED STYLE 1.
Pull out all of the possible ingredients and arrange them slapdash on the kitchen countertop.
2.
Look at the ingredients. Think about cooking, as well as flavour combinations.
3.
Instantly realize that three possible combinations will work, each a combination of two different ingredients. Problem solved. While recipes with one, three, or four primary ingredients are theoretically possible, horses only ever think of combining two ingredients. (Spices don’t usually count as ingredients.)
What would you do? Look up a recipe in a book?
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HOW TO TEACH HOMINIDS NOT TO BE VIOLENT, CTENOPHORUS(?)EVOLVED From the story “In the Walls of Eryx”, by HP Lovecraft, a synopsis by Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_the_Walls_of_Eryx). The story, written in first-person narrative, depicts the life and death of a prospector on the planet Venus who, while working for a mining company, becomes trapped in an invisible maze. The story takes place in the future, when humanity has developed space travel and begun to explore Venus. There, they discover valuable crystal orbs that can be used as a source of electrical power, as well as a race of primitive lizardmen who guard the crystals fervently and who attack any humans who try to take them. The narrator is one of many explorers employed to collect the crystals. He is equipped with a breathing apparatus fueled by oxygen cubes (as Venus' atmosphere cannot sustain human life) and clad in a leather protective suit, as well as a "flame pistol" to use against lizardmen. While on a routine mission, the narrator encounters a bizarre structure: a maze whose walls are completely invisible, at the entrance of which is a crystal of unusually large size. The prize is held by a dead prospector. The protagonist, feeling confident he can map out the maze, makes his way to the center after collecting the crystal in order to explore the structure. However, he soon discovers that he has misjudged the maze, and is unable to relocate the entrance point. Trapped in the maze, the narrator's oxygen and water supply steadily begins to run out, and lizardmen soon begin to gather at the outside of the maze to observe and mock him. Realizing the futility of his situation, the narrator begins to grasp the religious significance of the crystals to the lizardmen, and also realizes that the maze's nature as a constructed structure, and as a trap, indicates that the lizardmen are actually more intelligent than the 2494 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 humans are willing to admit. In time he realizes that he will face the same fate as the preceding prospector. Dying, the narrator writes down his observations on a futuristic form of recording paper. He describes how in his last moments he has developed a feeling of kinship with the lizardmen, and pleads with his superiors to leave Venus, the lizardmen, and the crystals alone, as they hold mysteries humanity cannot begin to grasp, and mankind does not really need to exploit them. The narrator's testimony, along with his body, are soon recovered by a search party, who discover an additional exit just behind the ground where Stanfield died, which the prospector has missed when attempting to map out the maze. However, his dying pleas for humanity to leave Venus alone are dismissed by his employers as unfortunate dementia caused by his desperate situation, and instead the crystal mining company decides to use draconian measures to annihilate the lizardmen completely.
Here’s what really happened: 1.
The actual event may have taken place in the galaxy, “Lots of stars”, also called “K-tick-tuck” (translated as “Our/of star-star”, translated as “Our/of stars”).
2.
Hominids invaded a planet of lizard-evolved “primitives”. The lizard people might have been evolved from Ctenophorus. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ctenophorus)
3.
An upset, technological parent race set up an “invisible maze” and pretended to be primitives. Such “invisible-maze” kits can be purchased for about $10,000.
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November 12, 2011 4. The “invisible maze” was actually a few invisible walls that hovered about, and positioned themselves in front of the Hominid, pretending to be a maze. 5.
If the Hominid had dropped his weapon, or shown some other sign of nonaggressive non-greedy intelligence, the maze walls would have wandered off to bother someone else.
6.
The referred-to oxygen-cube line was most-likely unnecessary.
PS – I didn’t figure this out myself. “The aliens” told me.
A randomly deep thought Never let your girlfriend paint your spiral horns with ribboned pastel colors. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackbuck)
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SOCIETY-UPGRADE CONTRACTS Disclosure is very complicated process, in part because of society-upgrade contracts. Contracts to upgrade or fix a broken society, such as pre-renaissance Europe, can be purchased. Buyers expect a return either when they sell their contract, or when taxes (in resources or money) can be extracted from the improved society. Buyers seek out sub-investors to divide the risk. They hire a management team, as well as employees. Employees might be stationed in the broken low-tech society, and/or influencing it remotely using telepathy-bots piloted by people on nearby planets. Independent consultants oversee and audit whether improvements to the society are taking place. Such investments might have initiated The RenaissanceTM. Investors would have expected profits from the resale of the more-valuable contract after Europe was successfully upgraded by The RenaissanceTM. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance) People who purchase contracts are not always long-term oriented. Many Earthbased CEOs line their stock-option pockets by making decisions that produce shortterm gains but long-term losses. Of course, at the expected peak, CEOs profitably sell their stock options and retire. Most of Earth’s society-upgrade contracts are ultimately held by non-Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought “[Flying] Sheep are very dim skilled punners.” – A modified version of a Monty Python quote. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_python, http://www.montypython.net/scripts/flysheep.php)
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 28/11/2010) CANNIBALISM Hominids and non-Hominids have killed off each other’s cattle. Hominids have been eating “primitive” non-Hominids for over half a year. Visiting carnivorous “reptiloid” and “mammaloid” navies/armies are fighting Hominids in space. They need food. When they destroy a Hominid spaceplane, they take the dead Hominid bodies for food. Of course, the Hominids protest... which is highly asymmetrical since Hominids are shotting and eating non-combatant non-Hominid “primitives” on the ground.
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November 12, 2011
SLAVERY Hominids spaceplanes are being intercepted before they land on non-Hominid planets. The Hominids are being gassed into sleep, placed on slaver ships, and transported away. Hominid enslavement isn’t very common, yet.
WAR MODELLING (PART 1) Here’s a simplistic way to computationally model a war: 1.
Create a database-world with entries for all of the stars and planets.
2.
For every 1000 real people living on the planets, create a virtual databaseperson.
3.
Use psychology tests, conducted over many years, to determine what values “define” the population. (“Alien” psychologists actually have to know mathematics and matrices.) For Hominids, the defining personality characteristics are: “Wealth/Power”, “Gender”, “How alpha-(fe)male they are”, and “Intelligence”. Other personality traits, quirks, and motivations are also modelled. For example: One value is a number indicating whether the virtual person is married, and different value indicates whether their parents have been massacred by an enemy race.
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November 12, 2011 4. Randomly fill in virtual-personality values based on statistics. Failing that, use Gaussians and standard deviations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaussian_distribution, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_deviation) 5.
Personality values are NOT independent. For example: People with “drug addiction” are less-likely to have a high, “Wealth/Power”. Algorithms like “simulated annealing” and “fuzzy logic” are used to adjust the personality values so peoples’ overall personalities are self-consistent. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simulated_annealing, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fuzzy_logic)
6.
Simulate people’s lives, week by week.
7.
Watch the war progress.
8.
Simulate information (about the war) flowing around the population, via the controlled media, underground newsletters, or from person to person. As information flows around, people’s personalities, motives, goals, and occupations change.
9.
Watch the war progress, continually updating data and models. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychohistory_(fictional))
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LET’S MOVE TO EARTH (PART 2) PEOPLE SMUGGLING When moving to Earth from another planet in neighbouring galaxies: 1.
People must fill out lots of coloured paperwork to get a “permit” / “license” / “deed” from a Hominid government.
2.
They must “purchase” a portion of Earth for $200K - $500K.
3.
They aren’t allowed to bring many possessions. Non-Earth technology and/or proof of being from off-planet aren’t allowed.
4.
The spaceplane flight to Earth involves dodging high-tech non-Hominid spaceplanes that may blow up the Hominids’ spaceplane if the nonHominids have had a moderately bad day. (Weapon-smuggling Hominids tend to sour their mood.)
5.
Immigrants are given a fake driver’s license, as well as a small care package. Earth passports are much more difficult to fake than driver’s licenses because they’re linked into a centralized database.
6.
Immigrants land in middle-of-nowhere US or Canada (or Russia or China). Immigrants that land in Canada cannot cross into the US without a passport... which they don’t have. They are bussed to the border, and must hike across the US-Canadian border, or take a quad, or horseback ride.
7.
It’s like people smuggling. With the outbreak of war, reaching Earth is more expensive, dangerous, and precarious. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/People_smuggling)
8.
Without a social security number, immigrants can’t get a job... kind of.
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November 12, 2011 9. On a monthly or semi-annual basis, some money is deposited into their bank account, and/or they are given some cash, and/or some other “in kind” annuity. 10. If they tell friends they’re an alien, their friends will think they’re either joking, or are crazy. If someone finds out they told their friends, they will be warned, deported, fined, shot, and perhaps become a soul-slave. Misbehaviour might incur negative consequences for relatives on and off the planet. 11. Children born in the US are legal US citizens. They are encouraged to work at McDonalds at a young age.
LET’S MOVE TO THE MILKY WAY, TRIANGULUM, ANDROMEDA GALAXY, LOTS OF STARS (SCULPTOR?), ETCETERA People moving to our cluster of galaxy clusters from a sub-Empire cluster often experience the following scenario: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klondike_Gold_Rush) 1.
They have the “bad luck” of losing “the job lottery” and being laid off from their job during a recession. Chance has little to do with who gets laid off.
2.
Coincidentally, they are mailed a colonist recruitment pamphlet. An uninhabited planet with Bermuda-like islands is advertised. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bermuda)
3.
They have the urge to call the phone number on the pamphlet.
4.
Despite having eleven applicants for every colonist “position”, they are selected in front of 100 other people as a preferred colonist. It’s a “once in a lifetime opportunity.”
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November 12, 2011 5.
Half a year later, after giving away all their furniture and possessions (because many unemployed are also leaving for the colonies), they board their spaceplane to “Bermuda-planet”.
6.
The trip takes 2 ½ weeks for the colonist. To people back home, it takes 2 years.
7.
They land on the “Bermuda” planet. It’s a red desert with sparse eucalypts and walking Koalas. The ocean and palm trees are always “just over the horizon”. “What happened to the palm trees and ocean?” asks the colonist. “We had a change of plan.” “This isn’t what I signed up for. I want to head back.” “No can do. See this hull. It’s thin. We ain’t got nothing left on it; she ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
8.
The colonists believe they’re only 20 to 50 stars away, but they’re actually 300 galaxies away. Back home, most planets lacked galactic views, only seeing a few thousand stars in the sky. Most people were never taught what a galaxy was, though their friends may have told them that galaxies were composed of 5000-ish stars.
9.
The colonists set up their Styrofoam houses, held together with cable ties.
10. A few weeks later... “Tonight we’re having baked beans for dinner.” “Why don’t we have any canned meat?” 2503 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 “We ate it all.” 11. A month after that... “Oh, and by the way, we’re nearly out of baked beans. Creamed corn for mains, anyone?” 12. Two weeks later... “We need food.” “Here are some guns.” The colonists are given disposable guns with 200-ish bullets in a built-in cartridge. “Go shoot some walking Koalas.” “Oh, and here’s a kiloton bomb, and five one-ton bombs.” The guns don’t shoot straight, and their bullets are only slightly more painful than paintball guns, but the colonists shoot the inhabitants of the local walking-Koala village for food. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paintball) 13. The colonists are out of ammo and bombs within weeks. 14. Angry “reptiloids” and/or “mammaloids” show up and attack the colonists because of the Koala massacre, not to mention trespassing. 15. Colonists put imaginary-two (2i) and two (2) together. 2i – “We are only 20 – 50 stars away from our home-world, right?” (Which is wildly incorrect.)
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November 12, 2011 + 2 – “We were just attacked by strange and belligerent “reptiloids” and/or “mammaloids”.” = 2 + 2i, but the colonists think it is 4 – “Therefore, we (on the outskirts of our empire) are at the forefront of an invasion. It won’t be long before our home-world is similarly attacked.” 16. A few weeks into starvation, a large Hominid spaceplane shows up. “We have food! All we need YOU to do is hop in our spaceplane. We’ll land you in an enemy “reptiloid” or “mammaloid” city. You then take it over using the guns and bombs we are about to provide... or you can stay here and starve to death.” 17. A day later, the colonists are marching into a low-tech “mammaloid” city as shock troops. Talk about the “holiday” from hell. We were going to have the easy life on a Bermuda-planet.
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 6) SIAMESE-CAT-EVOLVED STAIRWAY HOUSE
Featuring:
A central spiral staircase. The steps are motorized and rotate around their support column. The steps detect weight. As people walk up the staircase, it “magically” keeps going on up forever. The staircase functions somewhat like an Archimedes’ Screw, except the “blades” (stair steps) of the screw intelligently hide themselves so people don’t bump their heads on the steps above. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archimedes'_screw)
Rooms are curved and “thin”.
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November 12, 2011
The rotating steps include safety features, such as safety balustrades, so people don’t accidentally step into the open staircase and fall down it.
ENGINEERING (PART 2) GENUINE “STAR WARS” LASER PLASMA SPARKLER PISTOL RIFLE/CARBINE
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blaster_(Star_Wars))
The barrel is lined with an internal double or triple helix of small blocks. Each “colour” of block produces a different type of quaternion EMF. The blocks are constructed out of “fissile” materials that aren’t necessarily radioactive. The “fissile” materials can be pinged with a signal (such as an electrical 2507 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 charge), causing a chain reaction. The chain reaction produces an instantaneous high-strength “flare” of a quaternion EMF. To fire a sparkler-dart, the “fissile” blocks are pinged sequentially, using quaternion EMF to pull the sparkler-dart out of the gun. Guns can shoot approximately 1000 sparkler-darts before their “fissile” materials are consumed. The sparkler-darts are constructed from a series of two or three different metals that react to different quaternion EMF. As the “fissile” blocks go off, the bullet is pulled forward. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rail_gun) The sparkler-darts are coated with a material that becomes extremely hot as it is propelled through the barrel. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkler) The darts fly out of the barrel at searing temperatures. If a dart hits someone within the 10m – 20m range, the unburnt remains of the dart embeds itself in the person’s flesh and badly burns them. Little is left of the dart after it has burnt out. Extradimensionally-melted sparkler darts also exist.
LIGHT PAINT 1.
Paint the non-conductive (black) paint on your ceiling. Let it dry at least two hours, preferably overnight.
2.
Paint the “light paint” (electro-illuminescent) over the non-conductive paint. Let this paint dry overnight.
3.
Included in the box is a 5 meter anode ribbon and 5 meter cathode ribbon. They are each 1 cm wide, divided into 1 cm x 1 cm copper conductors. Cut the anode and cathode ribbons to length.
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November 12, 2011 4. Peeling the wax-paper off the self-adhesive side, adhere the anode ribbon to one side of the ceiling, and the cathode ribbon to the other side. The two ribbons should run parallel to one-another. Make sure to pressure-roll the ribbons, ensuring a quality electrical connection. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anode, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cathode) 5.
Pull the wax-paper off the self-adhesive tape on the combination transformer, battery, and motion detector. Adhere it in the corner of the room next to the anode ribbon.
6.
Run the supplied wire from the transformer to the cathode ribbon.
7.
The transformer module sends a pulse of electricity between the first squares of the anode and cathode ribbons. 20 microseconds later, a pulse is sent between the second anode and cathode squares. The electrical pulse walks down the ribbon until it reaches the end, and then restarts from the first squares.
NON-HOMINID STORY FORMS (PART 1)
Back-time – The first chapter of the book begins at the end of the story. Successive chapters walk backwards in time to the temporal beginning of the story.
Choose Your Own Adventure – While unpopular here, “Choose Your Own Adventure” books are more-common for other races. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_Your_Own_Adventure)
Parallel (usually on a computer) – The stories of N characters in a world are written time-forward into N separate narrations.
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November 12, 2011 Readers can display each narration text in its own column on the computer screen, and decide which narration to read. The narrations are displayed time-aligned. The book-application’s user-interface lets readers hide all but one of the narrations, with symbols on the side of the page indicating that another character is doing something. Readers can click on the symbols to view other characters’ narrations. The ability to switch between narrations is sometimes blocked at key junctions in the story. This is particularly useful for murder mysteries. Some stories will only let readers follow one narration at a time, timeforward. If they miss the actions of a character because they were reading the narration of another character, then the only way they learn what the first character did is by re-reading the e-book.
Picaresque (kind of) – An episodic recounting of a single character, always advancing in time, often including many droll segments of a character’s life. This form does exist on Earth, but isn’t common in contemporary literature. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Picaresque)
Verbal – The story is spoken by a person. The audience, usually children, are allowed to interrupt, asking questions, statements, and potentially changing the story.
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November 12, 2011
MORE RACES LOOKING FOR MOVIE ROLES (PART 2) VELVET GECKO
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oedura)
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November 12, 2011
AQUATIC GECKO, DEVOLVED
Enigmatic smile (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mona_Lisa, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmatogecko)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Unlike marsupials and velociraptor-evolved Saurians, the pouches of tyrannosaur-evolved women (and men) don’t have muscles. As a form of body styling, tyrannosaur-evolved people sometimes surgically attach the top of their pouch to their belly, and surgically detach the sides, creating a single tubepocket. By the way, tyrannosaur women lay two eggs maximum. They carry one egg in their pouch, and give the other to their husband… who carries it in his pouch. After their young break out of their eggs, they stay in their parents’ pouches for up to a year.
COMPARING EARTH’S SOCIETY (PART 1) What follows is a comparison of Earth’s “Western” society versus a “typical” nonHominid society with Earth-like technology:
Alcoholism – Alcoholism and drug addiction are typically larger issues than on Earth. Alcoholism is genetically tolerated because removing the “alcoholism” gene reduces people’s creativity.
Apartments – In most civilizations, apartments are smaller and emit less formaldehyde. Kitchens are much smaller because people cook much less often. Bedrooms are smaller, or are hide-away portions of the main living area.
Books – Books are common. E-books are not.
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November 12, 2011
Cities – Cities are smaller and much less common. Large towns are the norm.
Computers – Computers exist as word processors, limited E-mail, and perhaps some information retrieval.
Cooking – Most races don’t cook, either because they pick on foods, they eat raw foods (breads, grains, fruits, and vegetables), and/or they purchase lots of takeaway food. The takeaway food is typically regulated by law for nutrition. Consequently, most houses and apartments don’t have sizable kitchens.
Corporations – Large businesses are often state run, and/or closely monitored.
Crime –In general, crime is less common. Crime is much more common in some societies.
Death regime – On Earth, when people’s bodies die, their souls disappear, so people believe in heaven and hell. On other planets, their souls either are put in toddlers, friends/relatives, or synthesized bodies on highertechnology planets. In an emergency, souls are sometimes placed in large pets, such as domesticated large-cats.
Democracy – One person, one vote is much less common. Voting is often opinion-poll-like, with sample people surveyed for a vote, weighted by wealth, intelligence, and how “moral” someone is considered to be. Oneperson one-vote often leads to jingoism and election by advertising dollars. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opinion_poll, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jingoism)
Education – High-school equivalent education includes classes that would normally appear in the first two years of our university education.
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November 12, 2011
Exercise – Rarely.
Extended family – Extended families don’t usually exist, in part because of cultural/racial norms, and also because of the low birth-rate.
Financial system – Most societies have much simpler and more-regulated financial systems. The Alotians are an exception.
Hive/flocking mentality – Most cultures have much less “patriotism” than people in the United States. In some cultures, educated people will openly question the direction their society is taking.
Holidays – Time-off is more common. Big-splurge holidays are less common. Multiracial summer camps are popular for teenagers.
Houses – Houses range from half to twice the size of ours. They are usually one story. Houses tend to be occupied by families, and/or the middle and upper-middle class.
Interplanetary transportation – About half of the 1900’s – 1980’s technology societies are space-faring. The public has travel access to a handful of planets.
Marriage – Single-parent households are much more common, particularly due to pre-war sterilization by bots.
Medical care – Public medical care is common. Euthanization is much more common due to the different death-regime.
Mobile phones – Mobile phones are less common. Home telephones are common though.
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November 12, 2011 Money – Paper and coin money can be counterfeited. Debit cards are much more common. At some point, electronic money is too easy to instantaneously create/counterfeit. Not to mention people’s electronic fortunes disappearing overnight due to fraud. Wealth (houses and shares) often becomes state-owned. Private electronic money is still used for small items, like food and clothing.
Military – As a percentage of GDP, militaries are usually smaller than that of the United States. Military training is often compulsory.
Multiracial – Most cultures are mono-racial. Unfortunately, they often allow legal discrimination against sub-races... the equivalent of racist laws against African-Americans.
Newspapers – They don’t exist.
Night clubs – Socialization venues are more common.
Obesity – Obesity is uncommon. Our society is overweight due to malnutrition (despite plenty of calories), as well as chemicals in our foods and beverages.
Parent-child relationships – Parent/child relationships are typically closer in other cultures than our Western Earth-culture.
Pets – Most cultures don’t have pets. Some keep 30 – 50 IQ domesticated large-cats and wolves as pets... who are intelligent enough to open doors and refrigerators.
Private apartments and houses – Most cultures do NOT have private apartments and houses. They are assigned, or rented.
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November 12, 2011 Religion – Religions are more philosophies than church services.
Restaurants – Takeaway is common. Sit-down restaurants are very rare.
Retirement – Retirees aren’t allowed to sit idly around; they still work parttime. Due to the death regime, euthanization is practiced before people’s bodies become decrepit.
Schools – Schooldays are shorter, with computer-classes practiced at home. Homework is less common.
Shopping – Shopping is not usually a hobby. Supermarkets are smaller. Clothing stores are less ubiquitous.
Snow – Rare. People live in moderate climates along the coast.
Slavery – Slavery does exist in a fraction of the societies. Legalized secondclass citizens are more common. Wage-slaves (working poor) also exist, though many societies have no working poor.
Sports – Very few cultures play sports. Even fewer watch sports on television.
Television – Television is common, usually 20” to 40”. Story-watching is not. Television broadcasts are usually news, cartoons and stop-motionanimation for children, some educational television, and a few stories.
Television news – News is typically better than CNN... British BBC to Australian SBS equivalent. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC_News_(TV_channel), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SBS_News)
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November 12, 2011 Many planets now have “The War Channel” (not the actual name), with 24hour coverage of war news, like CNN’s initial coverage of the Iraq war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq_War)
Transportation – Private automobiles are common in half of the civilizations. Public transport is much more common.
Unemployment – Unemployment is rare. Some Simian and Ape societies allow 10% unemployment.
University education – University education is free/subsidized, often on other planets, and often multiracial. University education usually includes classes. Some universities rely more on computer-classes than teachers; they are dorms, with computer classes, and lab facilities.
Urbanized – Even though large cities don’t exist, most people live in cities and towns. Only farmers live on rural properties. “Outdoors” people are rare.
Wealthy class – Many civilizations have a wealthy class, though they are usually not as ostentatious as ours.
Wealth distribution – Most societies are more middle-class than ours.
Workweek – Working hours are less.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Some people decided to “go four-legged” five-million years ago because large four-legged people are five times as difficult to take hostage as 70 kg twolegged people… especially if the four-legged people have sharp, nasty teeth and claws.
ENGINEERING (PART 3) VIDEO CUBE, PROJECTION
Projection video cubes are 5 cm on a side. Video-quality is usually quite poor.
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November 12, 2011 If they’re marketed to children, the cubes often have a different letter or animal displayed on each face. One face is semi-transparent, and printed with a different pattern, such as a centred flower. Cubes are held about 40 cm away from the viewer’s eyes. A “laser” (emanating from the flower image) shines into the viewer’s eyes and causes the viewer to perceive an additive-light screen, 20 cm in front of them, 30 cm wide x 20 cm high. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Additive_color) If the cube is moved closer (or further away) than the ideal 40 cm, the image quickly disappears with hyper-perspective effects. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perspective_(graphical)) Cubes are designed to be looked down upon, at a 45 degree angle. If the cube is oriented away from the ideal 45 degree angle, (either left/right or up/down) then the “screen” incurs hyper-perspective effects, eventually disappearing if rotated too far. If the cube is moved more than a centimetre left/right or up/down, the image disappears. The cube doesn’t actually shine a “laser” into the person’s eye. An emitter produces sub-electrons instead. The emitter is somehow constructed from a micro-sparkplug. Electrons are sparked across a small oxygen-less gap, one million to one billion times a second. Upon reaching the other side, the electron surge travels a very short distance (less than 1 cm) to an LED-like emitter. The sudden burst of electrons reaching the “LED” causes the “LED” to release a charged sub-electron particle. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Light-emitting_diode, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkplug) The charged sub-electron particle is directed by two concentric/coexisting coils (wound with very-thin copper(?) wires). Similar to a cathode-ray tube, the coils direct the sub-electron particle by using a quaternion EMF. The directed-particle passes through the membrane, through the person’s lens or iris, and stimulates their retina 2520 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 in a light-like fashion. The sub-electron particles aren’t focused (Snell’s law) by the eye’s lens. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cathode_ray_tube, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snell%27s_law, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye) Gravity-direction sensors in the cube detect its orientation and adjust the beam. An eye-distance sensor is also possible.
A deeply random thought Despite the Earth fossils of Tyrannosaur Rex, wild tyrannosaurs on other planets are four-legged. They do NOT have tiny arms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus_rex) Tyrannosaurs aren’t always blue-black. Dark grey, mottled green, and sandybeige are quite popular. Feather colors also vary, depending on race and climatic season.
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November 12, 2011
VIDEO CUBE, WITH EXTRADIMENSIONAL SCREEN
A different-style video-cube, also 5 cm on a side, acts as a base to a 30 cm x 20 cm extradimensional screen. The extradimensional screen is invisible and cannot be grasped. It contains extradimensional wiring (or “fibre-optic” conduits) and directional “LEDs”... which are not necessarily/technically LEDs. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lightemitting_diode) Unfortunately, small children like holding onto the base and combing their brain with the ethereal extradimensional-screen. This is unhealthy.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought With the release of blu-ray discs, Avatar, the movie, may soon be shown on video screens in the neighboring galaxy, K-tick-tuck. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blu-ray_Disc, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_(2009_film))
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November 12, 2011
VIDEO BLOCK, “THE YELLOW BOOK”
“Greys” see different colours, types of colours, and non-light colours than we do. Projection cubes don’t work well with for them. “Grey” children are particularly dim. When given an extradimensional-screen videocube, “Grey” children never tire of ceaselessly combing their head (and eyes) with the unhealthy ethereal extradimensional-screen. Since both video-cube technologies are unacceptable, the “Greys” invented a yellowish Lucite-like compound that appears to be transparent to them. Within the Lucite, they embedded an extradimensional screen.
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November 12, 2011 From Project Serpo: (http://www.serpo.org/release29.php) The "YELLOW BOOK" - The "Yellow Book" or "Bible" is the alien's history of our universe written by the aliens themselves as well as their interactions and involvement with Earth's development/evolution. It was brought to Earth and presented to the U.S. government at the famous Holloman AFB landing in April 1964 by female Ebe #2 which was also translated by her. ... "The YELLOW BOOK" was provided by the Ebens. It ISN'T exactly a "book." It is a block of material, approximately 2 1/2 inches thick and transparent in nature and appearance. The reader looks at the transparent surface and suddenly words and pictures appear. It is an endless series of historical stories and photographs of our universe, the Eben planet and their former homeworld, and other interesting stories about the universe. It also contains a historical narrative and various accounts about Earth's history and distant past. To this day, I am one of the very few people who has actually SEEN and READ "The YELLOW BOOK." I can assure you that Robert Collins has not ever seen, viewed nor read any part of it. His name does NOT appear on the "Briefing Control Access Roster." As has been commented on by others, it would take a lifetime to read it and another lifetime to understand it. 1) Reference "The YELLOW BOOK": It is an 8 x 11 inch object and approximately 2 1/2 inches thick that is constructed of a clear, heavy fiberglass-type material. The border of the book is a bright yellow, hence "The YELLOW BOOK." When you place the book close to your eyes, you will begin seeing words and images flashing before you. Depending on the particular language you are thinking, that particular language will appear. So far, the USG has identified 80 different languages.
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November 12, 2011 Pictures also appear. "The YELLOW BOOK" tells the story of the Ebens' lives, their exploration of the universe, their planet, their societal life and other spects, including the Eben's longtime relationship with Earth. It tells of their first visit to Earth about 2,000 years ago. It displays Earth as it was in those days. It also shows an Eben, who took the appearance of an Earth Human [Jesus Christ]. According to "The YELLOW BOOK," this Earth Human established religion on Earth [Christianity] and posted the first ALIEN AMBASSADOR on Earth. "The YELLOW BOOK" goes on and on and on and on.... I've spent 12 hours a day for three (3) consecutive days and still NEVER reached the end. I don't think anyone knows how long it goes on or that there is any way to find the "end" of the book. There is NO known end to "The YELLOW BOOK." I understand the record is about 22 straight hours, which was done by the President's Scientific Adviser under the XXXXX administration. Also, there is NO known way to stop reading in one particular place, put down "The YELLOW BOOK" and then resume at the same place. Once you put down "The YELLOW BOOK" and pick it up again later, the book starts from the beginning. Although the book can somehow determine the language of the person who is reading, it canNOT determine the uniqueness of that person. In other words, the "problem" with "reading" "The YELLOW BOOK" is that one must start all over from the very beginning once you put it down. If it took you 12 hours to reach p. 564 [events] and then you put it down, you would have to start all over at the very first words and images displayed during your first read, and only once you passed the 12-hour mark would NEW information you had not seen in the previous sitting would now appear. As I wrote earlier, "The YELLOW BOOK" goes back to around 2,000 years. However, I have NOT viewed the entire "YELLOW BOOK" and don't think anyone else has either. It may have some views/images/history that go back even farther than 2,000 years B.C. 2526 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
The top-secret “yellow book” was one-such video-block, with a built in privatelytuned receiver so that US military generals wouldn’t be shown “Grey” children’s television. Someone on a nearby “Grey” planet was remotely in charge of the device. Whenever the “yellow book” was picked up, the overworked “Grey” would be woken out of sleep with a large electrical shock. They’d have to run to the switchboard and start up introductory video sequences. Meanwhile, they’d try to telepathically read the general’s mind (via the remote link) and select the appropriate video clips to play. Luckily, the off-planet hominids stole the yellow book from the US to analyse it for military secrets. No one has had to wake up in the middle of the night since.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought On any given day, the actual war (bombs and shooting) in a country the size of Iraq only occupies a few hundred square kilometers. People driving through the country could easily miss the war. In four-plus dimensional space, it’s very-very easy to miss the war. It’s so easy that military personnel can be told they’re merely participating in a small skirmish, and be completely oblivious of the 100-billion other combatants in the galaxy. There is a slight chance they’ll run into another military contingent in a pub. Both teams will be mum about specifics and greatly-understate the size of their operations… “We’re just here on training. Quite boring. [No mention of the five planets we just nuked]”.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 8/12/2010) WHY THE MILKY WAY IS LIKE KAMCHATKA (IN RISK)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milky_Way) The black-coloured galaxies are visible to us, at different Z-levels. (K-tick-tuck may only be partially visible.) The coloured galaxies are extradimensionally invisible to us. Each colour represents galaxies from a different overlapping taurosphere. To us, the galaxies may be visible as dwarf galaxies, which look like small clusters of non-swirling stars. Not all nearby galaxies (from this and other taurospheres) are illustrated. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dwarf_galaxy) The Milky Way is like Kamchatka (in the board game, “Risk”) because it provides easy access to several other overlapping galaxies in other taurospheres. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Risk_(game)) All of the galaxies shown are being invaded/colonized by Hominid colonists and militaries. Some specifics: 2529 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Triangulum hadn’t allow any major Hominid planets.
Andromeda allowed major Hominid planets, some of them in the “We all” empire, which was decivilized half a year ago.
“Another visible galaxy” (not the correct name) had an empire with Asianlooking Hominids. It is now occupied by Caucasians, and on the way to decivilization.
The Milky Way has 12-ish major disclosed Caucasian planets, which are now on the path to de-civilization.
K-tick-tuck has many (200+) mostly-Caucasian major Hominid planets.
“Nearby galaxy in overlapping taurosphere A” has 4-ish major Caucasian planets, on the way to de-civilization.
The nearby galaxies in taurospheres B and C didn’t have many major Hominid planets.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The United States “hive/flocking mind” may have collapsed in the late 1960’s, perhaps because of reduced botting. It reasserted itself by 1984, during the Regan years. From this, we can conclude that bot-controllers influence our clothing styles for the better. Ergo, Hominids with atrocious clothing styles cannot be botted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Counterculture_of_the_1960s, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Regan)
LOCAL TAUROSPHERE
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought War is NOT simple, especially this one. At the moment, this war can be viewed as 5 to 10 separate wars involving Hominids, even within the confines of our own galaxy. In the long run, these 5 to 10 wars might resolve/merge into one very-large war.
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November 12, 2011
CLUSTER OF TAUROSPHE RE CLUSTERS
“Current Hominid migration/invasion region”... the local war region (magenta) – Mass Hominid migration/invasion is taking place here, fomenting a war. Portions of this region are militarily “hardened” as they have experienced significant Hominid invasions/migrations for the last 100+ years.
Region “A” – 150-ish years ago, Hominids settled around the borders of “A”, a non-Hominid region. Non-Hominids in “A” are currently retaking Hominidsettled planets without much resistance. The Hominid nations there are intentionally giving way, and shipping some of their dislocated people into the magenta region, often without knowing that a war is taking place.
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November 12, 2011 One of more of following are all hypothesized agendas/scenarios for the war:
Many of the Hominid zones in the cluster of taurosphere clusters are teaming-up to mass-invade and mass-migrate populations to the local-war region (magenta), where we are.
The invasion of the top part of our taurosphere might (mostly) be a practice run. Our portion of the taurosphere is relatively difficult to invade because it is war-ready, having been under invasion/migration for so long. After the Hominid militaries get their migration/invasion flows “running efficiently” by aiming at us, they could redirect the migration/invasion flows into the lower, less-militarized portions of our taurosphere, performing a blitzkrieg (rapid invasion). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blitzkrieg)
The invasion of the local-war region (magenta), where we are, could (mostly) be a practice run. After getting up to speed, the migration/invasion flow could be redirect to the less-militarized region“A”.
The migration/invasion flow could be redirected ANYWHERE, not just here (the local-war region, magenta) or “A”.
Even if the aggregate migration/invasion flows are redirected elsewhere, the local Hominid nation-clusters could still continue to invade/migrate to portions of our taurosphere, either the top or the bottom.
The war might be one of genocide, more than invasion/migration.
Rather than a goal of invasion/migration, the war might be an attempt to bankrupt non-Hominids.
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November 12, 2011 Hominid zones are competing and/or warring (via espionage, skulduggery, and friendly invasions) with one-another.
Hominid nations might be using the war to pogrom portions of their population, via war deaths, without actually pogroming their population.
Nations (sub-Empires) within the Hominid zones are competing and/or warring (via espionage, skulduggery, and friendly invasions) with oneanother.
Some non-Hominid nations are covertly/subconsciously influencing the Hominid nations to achieve their own goals.
Some non-Hominid nations are encouraging a war, with the expectation of a major Hominid loss; they would be planning to take over valuable Hominid real-estate after the war.
Non-Hominid nations could be influencing the Hominid war to further their agenda in a future war against one-another. This war could be a pre-war to a future non-Hominid war.
Other agenda/scenarios are certainly possible.
A truce could come at any time, though the fighting, as well as the invasion/migration flows would be difficult to quickly halt.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Biscuiting – A sport/pastime undertaken by some Hominid cultures whereby raw (and very sticky) pre-manufactured biscuit-dough balls (about 2 cm in diameter) and flung into the windshields of oncoming automobiles. The biscuit balls don’t hurt the automobile, but they do startle the driver, as well as stick to the windshield.
HOMINID NATIONS (SUB -EMPIRES) As an aggregate, Hominid Nations are at war with non-Hominids. Many are losing territory as a result of wars, or agreed-to evacuations of colonies. Hominids are being sterilized. Hominids are be genetically de-evolved and technologically “rolled back”. A fraction (15% to 30%) of Hominid nations are trying to stay out of the war. They are being pressured into a larger coalition of Hominids (The Great Hominid Empire, or the Consortium, or the Organization, etcetera), by their own citizens, as well as the majority of Hominid nations. Within the Hominid nations, people’s opinions are divided. Rulers (elected or aristocratic) all have their own agendas, broadly falling into the following stereotypes:
Stay neutral, out of the war, and heads down.
Pro-war, to gain wealth from invaded non-Hominid planets
Pro-war for ideological reasons, either religious, revenge, and/or territorial.
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November 12, 2011
Pro-war and/or anti-war; they convince other nations (or corporations, rulers, aristocrats) to partake in the war in the hopes that the other nations (or corporations, rulers, aristocrats) fail and/or go bankrupt.
Anti-war, using political manoeuvring.
Anti-war, using skulduggery and espionage.
Anti-war, by promoting peaceful projects.
Etcetera
A deeply random thought How do you explain the non-UFO ideas (such as diet, ways of thinking, educational ideas, architecture, etc.) in this document to average people?
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November 12, 2011
YET ANOTHER REASON WHY DISCLOSURE IS DIFFICULT In the local cluster, the space-faring Hominids have been allowed to disclose to a non-disclosed Hominid planet every 70-ish Earth years (50-ish galactic years). Other races often took part in disclosure. Historically, within 100-ish years of a Hominid disclosure, only half the population on the planet remained indigenous. Sizable pogroms of the indigenous population occurred, as well as population-swelling migration from other Hominid planets, galaxies, and taurospheres. Political, economic, and genetic power are usurped from the indigenous Hominids. The Nordics (an organization) are not racist. Unlike the vast majority of off-planet Hominids, they interact with non-Hominids. The Nordics were brought into the local region 500+ years ago to monitor how well disclosure was working. Being Australopithecus-evolved, they could land on the pre-disclosed and post-disclosed planets, and (nearly) blend in with the local population. This allowed them to watch for pogroms and other illegal activities. The Nordics, well liked on by Earth’s UFO mythology, are “bastard” older brothers and sisters... in a way. They have politically fought against disclosure on Earth and other non-disclosed Hominid planets due to their fear of pogroms and offplanet usurpation. The “Greys” were also involved with Earth, monitoring disclosure, and interacting with the US government... before the “alien program” was privatized. The Nordic and “Grey” pair were selected to ensure independent evaluations, since the Nordics do not get along with the “Greys”.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought There is no anatomically-safe way for a Zeen child to slide down a slide. In the 1950’s, slides and merry-go-rounds were installed on the neighboring Zeen planet with the expectation of disclosure happening on Earth.
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November 12, 2011
ENGINEERING (PART 4) PASSENGER SLIDER (NOT A “CIGAR-SHAPED UFO”)
Pilot crew area – Where the crew who pilots the craft live for the duration of the flight.
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November 12, 2011 This deck contains a central helical corridor, with small rooms off the corridor. Time passes for the crew 4x outside time. This deck has 0.1 times Earth gravity.
2nd class – Dining, recreation, and cabins. This deck is modulo: People can walk all the way around the circular hull, as per the green lines. Quickly walking from stem to stern is uncomfortable due to extradimensional “melting”, also known as “baryon rotation”. Hallways are architected so that, in the event of an accident, passengers won’t hit any perpendicular walls as they “fall” towards the back of the spaceplane. Time passes at 8x outside time. 0.6 times Earth gravity.
1st class – Time passes at 16x outside time. 1.15 times Earth gravity. This is the most extradimensionally and gravitationally comfortable deck.
3rd class – Time passes at 32x outside time. 1.5 times Earth gravity. The nearness to the ship’s hull makes 3rd class very uncomfortable.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Just as Hollywood movies attracted people to move to southern California in the 1930’s – 1970’s, Hollywood movies have attracted people to move to Earth. Some “Grey” children, now adults, really-want to meet Big Bird, but not “Oscard the Grouch”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hollywood, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_bird, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_the_Grouch)
LESS-EASILY-COUNTERFEITED MONEY
Plastic money-cards, about half the size of Earth’s credit cards. They replace paper money, with $1.00, $5.00, $10.00 (and higher) denominations.
Expiry date in the money.
Hundreds of hidden security features.
Money verification sliders/readers are at most store checkouts. Each slider/reader checks only two (to five) of the hundreds of security features. Each checkout-counter, and/or store, and/or store-chain, will have different slider/reader models. Each model checks a different collection of 2-5 security features. For a counterfeiter to verify that their money can fake out sliders/readers, they must possess all hundred-plus different models of sliders/readers... which is very difficult.
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 7) FOUR-LEGGED TIGER-EVOLVED APARTMENTS
Featuring:
Plexiglass living-modules supported by external scaffolding.
Tube climb-ways with claw grips.
Never see, hear, or smell your neighbours.
Viewing balcony.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought There is nothing more disturbing than uncovering memories of watching a Cheetah-trio sync-dancing to “It’s Raining men” (by “The Weather Girls”) in a country-western-like bar/restaurant, including diagonal darkly-stained wood paneling. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%27s_raining_men, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Weather_Girls) Sorry… It’s even more disturbing when you remember having been a Cheetah yourself, where you sync-danced to “I’m Gonna Wash that Man Right Out of My Hair”, also by “The Weather Girls”… Damn aliens. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I%27m_Gonna_Wash_That_Man_Right_Outta_My_Hai r)
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 14/12/2010) Now that war has begun, Hominid and non-Hominid parties with financial and governing “interests” in Earth have discovered that other parties also have financial and governing “interests” in the same planet. There are at least fourteen of them. Unfortunately, they mutually didn’t know of each others’ existence during peacetime. Now that war is happing, they all have representatives (sometimes adversarial) in the galactic neighbourhood, and are now working to resolve “ownership” issues of Earth and other planets. Adding to the difficulties, people from far away didn’t realize that an empire was forming here, nor did they know details of Earth’s (and other planets’) specific 2544 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 circumstances. The usual reasons apply: Travel times can reach half a year... There’s always a war/conflict/snowstorm in the area, or on the way here... and people from so far away don’t look exactly like Homo Sapiens, so they aren’t allowed to land on Earth.
A randomly deep thought Because the Cheetahs’ favorite sync-dancing songs come on a music cube called, “Pop/Jazz (Earth), Volume 3”, they also call sync-dancing, “Pop Jazz”, roughly pronounced “Paa jae”. Sync-dancing is also known air-dancing.
COMPARING EARTH’S SOCIETY (PART 1)
History classes – Students on Earth typically read through 45 centimetres of history books (10,000-ish pages) before they graduate. Most non-Hominid students are only required to read 3000-ish pages of history. History books written for a single planet are rare. They typically cover the events of dozens of geographically-disjoint planets occupied by the race. The history of nearby planets is typically ignored... because not only are there thousands of planets to cover, they are all occupied by other races.
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November 12, 2011 Less history per-capita, per-year, is necessary... Wars are (theoretically) fewer. Technology doesn’t advance as quickly. And people live longer, both in the same bodies, and/or by soul transference, so there aren’t as many kings and queens to remember. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_English_monarchs) Most history books go back only to the last major war, 400 galactic years ago (approximately 550 Earth years ago). People seem to have left their old history and mathematics books behind when a large diaspora occurred after the war. (The current war is already worse than the one 400 years ago, so history books are expected to soon shorten.)
Less-valuable planets – Most planets occupied by other races are a lot more like Australia than northern-hemisphere contents. Their continents are dry in the centre and without mountains. This affects lifestyle in innumerable ways.
Resource usage – Half.
A deeply random thought Ant-evolved parents give their children colored foil-sparkles to masticate so that when their children spit out self-hardening saliva-goo and make blobby figurines out of it, the figurines are at least colorful… and slightly less disgusting.
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November 12, 2011
MORE RACES LOOKING FOR MOVIE ROLES (PART 3) CONDŪK
Condūk can shape their faces when young. This sketch is of a Hominid-shaped face.
Mentioned in “Alien Doodles”, “Beyond my wildest dreams”, and “I forget what I wasn’t supposed to remember”. (http://www.aliendoodles.com/, http://www.alienjigsaw.com/I%20Forgot/Book%20Page.html, http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-My-Wildest-Dreams-Abductee/dp/1879181258)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Even without the war, most off-planet Hominids living on Earth can no longer get off the planet without a large payment.
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November 12, 2011
TIKREET
Mentioned in “Alien Doodles”, “Beyond my wildest dreams”, and “I forget what I wasn’t supposed to remember”. (http://www.aliendoodles.com/, http://www.alienjigsaw.com/I%20Forgot/Book%20Page.html, http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-My-Wildest-Dreams-Abductee/dp/1879181258)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Off-planet, people can purchase “lights” that help them see some extradimensionally-invisible objects. In my own experience, light from nearby lightning-strikes also works. An excerpt from a Wikipedia article about HP Lovecraft’s short story, “From Beyond”: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/From_Beyond_(short_story), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._P._Lovecraft) The story is told from the first person perspective of an unnamed narrator and details his experiences with a scientist named Crawford Tillinghast. Tillinghast creates an electronic device that emits a resonance wave, which stimulates an affected person’s pineal gland, thereby allowing them to perceive planes of existence outside the scope of accepted reality. Sharing the experience with Tillinghast, the narrator becomes cognizant of a translucent, alien environment that overlaps our own recognized reality. From this perspective, he witnesses hordes of strange and horrific creatures that defy description. Tillinghast reveals that he has used his machine to transport two of his house servants into the overlapping plane of reality. He also reveals that the effect works both ways, and allows the denizens of the alternate dimension to perceive humans. Tillinghast's house servants were attacked and killed by one such entity, and Tillinghast informs the narrator that it is right behind him. Terrified beyond measure, the narrator picks up a gun and shoots it at the machine, destroying it. Tillinghast dies immediately thereafter as a result of apoplexy. The police investigate the scene and it is placed on record that Tillinghast murdered the two house servants.
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November 12, 2011
ALOTIAN
A randomly deep thought If a disgruntled Simian is told to hammer in a nail, (s)he will hammer it in backwards, flat-end first. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simian)
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November 12, 2011
DISCOVERING PHYSICS EQUATIONS USING PATTERN RECOGNITION (ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE) What is the equation for gravity? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravitation)
How can you determine the equation for gravity if you don’t know it already? One method is to use unit-type agreement. The law of gravity outputs a force, mass x distance per time per time. Consequently, multiplying all of the units of the inputs, m1, m2, and d, raised to arbitrary powers, should produce approximately the right equation if it ends up with the units, mass1 distance1 time-2. Ignoring the gravitational constant, G, the force of gravity is 2
. The resulting units
-2
are, mass distance . These are NOT the correct units for force! To solve the unit mismatch, the gravitational constant, G, is fudged with counteracting units of, distance3 mass-1 time-2. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravitational_constant) How else would you determine the equation for gravity? 1.
Begin with the fifty years of planetary-location data-points we have collected.
2.
Write down an eigen-equation that is a superset of all possible equations for the force of gravity: F = k1 + k2 m1 + k3 m2 + k4 d + k5 m12 + k6 m22 + k7 d2 + k8 m1 m2 + k9 d-1 + etcetera
3.
Generate all possible values for kn.
4.
Determine which values for [k1 .. kn] most-accurately predict planetary motion over the past 50 years.
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November 12, 2011 Rather than brute-force all kn values, use basic pattern recognition techniques, such as something similar to neural-networks, genetic algorithms, and other “artificial intelligence” techniques. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_neural_network, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetic_algorithm, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baysian_classifier, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beam_search, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viterbi_search, etcetera) 5.
After successfully pattern-recognizing, all values of kn should be 0 (zero), except for k89, appearing in
, which should be the same number as
the gravitational constant. (By the way, the gravitation equation is actually much more complicated than we think, and may involve logarithms.)
The equation for the force of gravity was simple enough that a hundred years ago, a scientist could plot data-points on graph-paper and come up with,
.
Now for something a bit more complicated… What is the equation for the motion of the planets and moons? The equation must take into account:
The force of gravity on each planet from the sun.
The force of gravity on each planet from other planets.
The force of gravity on each planet from its moons, and vice versa.
The force of gravity on each planet from invisible gravitation objects, such as extradimensional suns and “rotated” planets.
The fact that planets are slightly extradimensionally-offset, so the force of gravity on them from the sun is NOT d-2.
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November 12, 2011
Electromagnetic fields.
Unknown masses for planets and moons.
Hollow moons.
Non-spherical planets and moons.
Solar winds pushing planets and moons outwards.
Solar winds causing drag on the orbits of planets.
Solar-wind-pressure behind planets causing the moon’s orbit to be nonplanar, in turn causing the planet’s orbit to be non-planar.
The gravitational spin of the sun and large planets.
Etcetera
Constants can be initialized by a physicist-generated best-guess prediction of the equation, and then fine-tuned by pattern recognizers. After the constants have been statistically fine-tuned by pattern recognizers, skilled anti-mathematicians (which means they’re well-liked by students) can reverseengineer the pattern-recognition-generated equation and identify hidden masses (and other physics features) in the solar system.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought “z” – A mathematical symbol indicating that something is so nothing that it cannot adequately be represented by a zero (“0”).
WHY THERE AREN’T MANY TELEPATHS ON EARTH TELEPATHY IS NOT ALWAYS DESIRABLE ON THE PART OF THE TELEPATH
Telepathy-training takes time and effort on the part of the telepath, especially when the non-disclosure people (see below) hinder the training by sending the person spam text-messages, wake them up in the middle of the night with fears that the world is about to end, and/or get them shipped off to an insane asylum.
Telepathy is useful for talking to “aliens” on nearby planets... Hominid and/or non-Hominid. Telepaths cannot control who they talk to; an “alien” operator/minder controls that.
Telepathy does NOT let telepaths read the minds of arbitrary people, telepathically talk to other people on Earth (unless an “alien” forwards their call), or predict the future. The minds of other implanted people can be read only if (a) their “alien” minders turn on the feature, and (b) their implant is sophisticated enough to hack into the other person’s implant.
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November 12, 2011 Telepathy implants let the “aliens” read the minds of telepaths, as well as alter their moods and thoughts. Security protocols theoretically prevent unfriendly “aliens” from doing this, but implants are often hacked into by unfriendlies.
Some implants provide access to a larger-than-Wikipedia database. Obnoxious-but-friendly “alien” operators/monitors limit access to the database. (http://en.wikipedia.org)
Not many people are willing to admit being telepathic... There is nothing quite-like wandering around the Middle Ages (21stcentury Earth), talking on your Nokia mobile-phone (telepathy implant), and having your friends and neighbours tell you you’re weird, and/or talking to the Devil (or that you are mentally unstable), because they cannot see your phone and/or can’t imagine that it could exist. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_ages) Claims of telepathy also affect future employment opportunities. Consequently, many telepaths are downgraded to less-politicallycontroversial and less-costly “thump”-level telepathy, receiving only impressions and vague ideas. They end up writing science-fiction and fantasy screenplays/novels, and/or doing other work.
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November 12, 2011
THE PEOPLE THAT WANT TO KEEP EARTH NON-DISCLOSED MAKE LIFE VERY UNCOMFORTA BLE FOR TELEPATHS.
Which leads to fewer people wanting to be telepathic.
“Uncomfortable” means that friendly “aliens” must provide protection (in the form of medical bots) for their telepaths.
Which results in agreements to not have many telepaths on Earth.
Which means....
TELEPATHS MUST “PRODUCE” TO BE WORTH TRAINING, MONITORING, AND PROT ECTING...
The more unemployed they are, the more a telepath can “produce”. Spouses and children also affect how much time can be dedicated.
The more intelligent they are, the more a telepath can “produce”.
Writing (or some other communication ability) is desirable.
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November 12, 2011
FROM THE OTHER SIDE... Imagine you’re an “alien” author, architect, philosopher, or humorist that has been drafted into the military to fight in this war. What do you do on your day off? Telepathically “thump” Earth (and other planetary) authors and contactees with stories, building-designs, memes, and jokes.
Consequently, having a war in the area encourages the existence of telepaths on Earth.
Off-planet people like it when their jokes (and other bits of wisdom) appear on the internet, in books, or in movies.
Off-planet people talking to telepaths don’t like it when telepaths try to get filthy rich off their conversations.
Anyone still interested in being a telepath after reading this dis-advertisement, should apply telepathically… which is challenging, since most people don’t have telepathic implants. Many people do have low-cost “thump” implants though.
A randomly deep thought Orangutans are exceptionally-good crooners. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orangutan, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crooner)
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November 12, 2011
OTHER UFO QUIBBLERS Other people have awareness dreams and telepathic conversations with “aliens”, as well as having had been abducted. Finding such people on the internet is not easy. 90% - 99% of all “alien” information on the internet is misinformation, misunderstandings, and/or merely UFO photos. I haven’t read many of the hundreds of UFO books on www.Amazon.com because shipping them to Australia is expensive and slow; any list I provide is incomprehensive:
Alien Doodles (http://www.aliendoodles.com/)
Alien Jigsaw (http://www.alienjigsaw.com/)
Beyond my wildest dreams? (http://www.closeencounterspublishing.com/)
The Day After Roswell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Day_After_Roswell)
The Disclosure Project’s 4-hour DVD (http://www.disclosureproject.org/)
Project Serpo (http://www.serpo.org/)
Whitley Strieber (http://www.unknowncountry.com/)
For discussion, Above Top Secret and Open Minds Forum work, but they have an unusually high percentage of “UFOs-don’t-exist know-it-all” forumtrolls who tend to quash any discussion. (http://www.abovetopsecret.com/, http://www.openmindsforum.com/, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forum_troll)
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November 12, 2011
For anyone wishing to write their own UFO Quibbler (such as Alien Jigsaw) based on their awareness dreams and/or telepathic conversations, I suggest they include the phrase, “UFO Quibbler” in their .pdf E-book or webpage. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Quibbler#The_Quibbler, http://www.alienjigsaw.com/) People wishing to find UFO Quibblers on the internet can do a Google search for the exact-phrase, “UFO Quibbler”, by placing quotes around the phrase. (Google exact-phrase search for “UFO Quibbler”, or http://www.google.com.au/#q=%22ufo+quibbler%22)
A randomly deep thought You can identify “Nordics” by their humor… and by reading certain “intentionally-unnamed because I don’t want to be harassed forever” fantasybooks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordic_aliens)
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November 12, 2011
PLEASE SPAM THESE ID EAS AROUND WORD-OF-MOUTH E-MAIL This information will never get on television, except as gadgets and back-story appearing in science-fiction and fantasy stories. The information is only slightly morelikely to be heard on midnight radio. If you find the ideas in this document to be compelling, please E-mail this document to your friends. If you are experiencing “UFO Embarrassment”, then Email the short stories, or cut-and-paste un-embarrassing sections of the text. If no-one E-mails this document to their friends, then the information will fade away.
A randomly deep thought If you attended a top-5% intelligence university, please spam one randomlyselected alumnus from your university a week with this document. You can use Facebook’s “University Y - Class of XX” list to find people. (http://www.facebook.com, http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=39567324412, http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=89180898079)
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November 12, 2011
E-MAILING TIPS I guesstimate that if you E-mail this document to someone in the top-5% of intelligence (, creativity, and/or inquisitiveness), around 20% - 30% of the people that read this document will “get it”. In my experience, the rest of the population (95%) is very quick to disbelieve and/or dismiss. Unfortunately, most people WON’T read this document because it’s too long... as well as being spammed through E-mail. Only 5% - 10% of people E-mailed might read the document, times the 20% - 30% who “get it”. Only 1% - 3% of the people Emailed will “get it”.
People are more likely to read this document if they know the E-mail sender.
They are more likely to read this document if your E-mail points out personally-compelling elements about the document. For example: E-mail physicists and point out that they have no idea what “e quaternion ” does. Mathematicians might be intrigued by “rotating matrices” by 45 degrees. Palaeontologists might find the “dinosaur” and “saurian” comments to be thought-provoking. (Point out phrases that people can search for.)
Attaching a humorous sketch from this document to your E-mail also helps.
Some professionals/people who might find the document interesting are:
Architects
Economists
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November 12, 2011 Engineers – Computer and aerospace. How many aerospace conventions feature a just-for-fun UFO talk?
Furries – Would a UFO/alien talk at a Furry convention be useful? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom)
Game designers, computer and pencil-and-paper
Journalists – While they can’t sanely partake in any UFO journalism, journalists are always curious.
Military buffs/theorists
Politicians – UFOs are both taboo and uninteresting. Potential-solutions to long-term social-problems, already addressed by societies on other planets, might provide handy “think-week” seed-ideas.
Psychologists
Religious/philosophical people – Spiritualists, liberal Christian/Jewish/Muslim clergy, Buddhists, Hindus, 2012-ers, and Shinto practitioners.
Science fiction and fantasy enthusiasts
Scientists – Archaeologists, astronomers, biochemists, biologists, chemists, materials, palaeontologists, and physicists. Would a just-for-fun UFO/alien talk at a palaeontologist convention be thought provoking?
Screenwriters/authors of science fiction, fantasy, and conspiracy stories – Including screenwriters for often-overlooked children’s television shows.
Teachers and professors
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November 12, 2011 UFO people
Zookeepers
TRANSLATIONS Feel free to translate this document to other languages, and post the translations on the Internet.
A deeply random thought How does one verify that Earth’s population is 4 billion, or less, or more? Look on “Google maps” and count the major cities, small cities, large towns, and villages, particularly in Africa. (http://maps.google.com/)
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November 12, 2011
AUSTRALOPITHECUS This is what the “aliens” have to say about Australopithecus, our ancestor. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australopithecus)
PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS
Their light covering of body-hair (just like our own) helps mud to stick to their skin… which is why they are derogatorily called “mud apes”. The mud keeps them cool (if they have dark skin), protects them from mosquitoes, and acts like SPF-90 sun-block. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunscreen) Australopithecus’ hair does NOT grow forever, unlike our own. Hominids, who can grow body-length ponytails, do not survive well when their bodylength ponytail gets snagged on tree branches. At some point in their evolution, Australopithecus must have become intelligent enough to cut their hair, either by inventing (flint) knives, or by using fire (which isn’t a very good way to “cut” one’s hair). Australopithecus who failed to cut their hair would have been killed off by hair snags… providing evidence that long hair encourages the evolution of intelligence, only the third such occurrence in known history.
Australopithecus has a short tail.
Australopithecus (and apes) are descended from pig-like ancestors. Simians and lemurs are from distinctly-different lineages.
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November 12, 2011
HABITAT
Australopithecus typically live in tropical salt-water estuaries. Such estuaries have reed-filled waist-high water that they walk through. Food is plentiful. Mud, for their skin, is readily available. Australopithecus corner the tropical-estuary market; furred creatures typically dislike water, and vehemently avoid warm salt-water.
PERSONALITY
Australopithecus are often feared. They are intelligent enough to use a stolen knife (and sometimes a stolen gun) to kill, but not intelligent enough to realize that killing is immoral.
Females Australopithecus MUST acquire a friendly male for protection from other males.
Low-ranking males and females are mercilessly hounded.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Pun poetry – Obnoxious Hominids use puns to compact two distinct meanings into one phrase. One of the meanings is usually intended to be humorous. Imagine writing a whole paragraph/stanza with puns. Read without the puns, the paragraph/stanza means one thing. Read with the puns, the paragraph/stanza means something entirely different.
DINOSAUR-EVOLVED PEOPLE COMPLAIN TO COMPUTER-GRAPHICS ARTISTS (AND PALEONTOLOGISTS)… GENERALITIES
“Dinosaurs” are covered with fur-less/feather-less skin, feathers (two different kinds), feather-fur (somewhat like emu feathers, but more furlike), twizzled fur, proto-feathers (shaft with non-fibrous alternating fletching), downy feathers, quills (sometimes with venom), bony plates, and/or feathers turned into small armor-plates.
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November 12, 2011 The long bit in their pelvis is a tail support, and does NOT hang down. Dinosaur-evolved people suggest that paleontologists visit Australia and take a look at wallaby pelvises.
http://www.dundee.ac.uk/museum/_lib/img/zoology/skeletons/2154A.jpg (A wallaby; we know what they look like.)
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November 12, 2011
http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00242/pg-18-DinoPA_242821a.jpg (Compared to the wallaby, the dinosaur pelvis looks like its flipped font-to-back, and rotated.)
Maybe it should be oriented like this, a little-bit more like a wallaby’s pelvis.
Dinosaur ribs typically meet in a wide sternum, and heavy collarbone. Dinosaur ribs have very little cartilage. Their ribs do not hang limply from the dinosaur’s vertebrae.
The spiky-bits in some tail vertebrae are on top (not below), so the tail can be lifted by muscles. Dinosaur tails do not have much downward strength.
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November 12, 2011
Dinosaur mouths/lips do not open all the way back to their jawbone, as per crocodiles.
Female dinosaurs do not have large bulges in their groin.
As much as modern CG artists like painting dinosaurs with stripes and dayglow colors, very few wild dinosaurs have access to body spray-painters. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spray_painting)
Dinosaur verbalization varies from wallaby-like clicks, to clicks with limited staccato vocalizations, to bird-like sounds (dove-like coos, to slowed-down two-octave-lower Brahminy kite calls), to very-good sound imitations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallaby, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dove, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brahminy_Kite)
Some dinosaurs climb trees, particularly arboreal tyrannosaurs.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought A rotating gravitational source creates a “spin” on gravity that breaks our known equation of gravity. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravitation) The speed of light is also affected by the spin. If the speed of light is affected, lensing affects occur. The Andromeda galaxy might be a lot closer than we think. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andromeda_galaxy) So is the nearest star. And, by the way, the Milky Way looks like a cyclone. The spiral arms are linearly-spaced out from the core. Gravitational lensing, and other stuff, distorts our image of the Milky Way. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyclone, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milky_way)
SPECIFICS
Ankylosaurs are not fat. They have spiky-feather-stem pineapple bits on their back attached to some of their “bony studs”. Their smooth “bony studs” are on their chest, not their back. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ankylosauria)
Apatosauruses (formerly known as brontosauruses) are not fat. They do an awful lot of swimming, though they occasionally come to shore for some beer-battered fish and fruit juice. They tend to be colored magenta or beige on their back, and cream-colored underneath. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apatosaurus)
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November 12, 2011
Archaeopteryxes only fly when you kick them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archeopteryx)
Ceratopsia (triceratops) are dinosaur cattle. They eat greens and fruits, as well as the cleaned-off carcasses and (some) bones of mammalian cattle. There are also intelligent walking Ceratopsia. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceratopsia)
Dimetrodon and other Permian “dinosaurs” are brightly colored and have cilia (2mm fur-like) on their back and groin. Mono-sails don’t work. Dimetrodon on other planets have two sails that normally lie flat. Raising and/or pulling out their sails provides balance. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dimetrodon)
Eoraptors do not wish to be hugged by “Greys” who mistake them for “Big Bird”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eoraptor, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_bird)
Some, but not all, Hadrosaurs might be furry, like platypuses. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadrosaurid, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Platypus)
Paleontologists’ illustrations of Pachycephalosauru are atypically accurate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pachycephalosaurus)
Pterodactyls are basically pelicans, and do not have finger “bones” that reach way-way out to form very-long-and-pointy wings. Their tails are wide, not very long. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pteradactyl) Two distantly-related branches of flying dinosaur end up looking similar.
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November 12, 2011 Stegosauruses do not walk with an arched back. They walk fairly low to the ground. They use their long legs to stand up and reach tastier leaves and berries. Their armor plating lies against their body, embedded underneath their day-glow-green skin, not vertically against their backbone. They deny having spikes at the tip of their tail. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stegosaurus)
Tyrannosaur-evolved people are wondering if they shouldn’t change their name to Prostosuchus-evolved… but “Tyrannosaur” sounds MUCH cooler than “Prosto”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Postosuchus) Tyrannosaurs, as well as most other dinosaurs, have very straight teeth, especially with the aid of modern dentistry. Tyrannosaur teeth are actually thin and deep when looked-at face-forward. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosauridae) Some Tyrannosaur-evolved people have informed me that I have illustrated their upper arm-bones (humerus) 30% longer than they actually are. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humerus) Tyrannosaur tails are wide and fluffy. Despite what the movie, “Jurassic Park” claims, Tyrannosaurs can see you when you stand still. I can vouch for that; they saw me take the vitamins… (Just search for “vitamins” in this document for the full story.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jurrasic_park)
Unknown name – Four-legged dinosaurs with feather-like “scales” for protection.
Velociraptors annoyingly knock over garbage cans to scavenge the food inside. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor)
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A randomly deep thought Would you feel more comfortable with this document if I redacted (blackedout) all of the conspiracy-theory elements? (http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/redact)
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ARCHITECTURE (PART 8) QUARTER-COST HOMINID HOUSE
External walls panels:
Honeycomb “studs” are prefabricated out of a solid wood-like material, about 500 mm per hexagon. Electrical cabling and potential outlet-points are pre-installed. They are safe to saw through; wall-wiring uses 24 volts to eliminate fire risks from cabling cut by saws.
Plywood is screwed or glued onto honeycomb studs.
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November 12, 2011
Clapboard-shaped vinyl-siding is attached to the exterior. The clapboard shape, as well as small pits in the surface, ensures that rainwater flows slowly down the side; most water evaporates before it hits the channel. (See below.)
A wallpaper-print interior wall-panel is glued on. Wallpaper-print visually camouflages outlet covers and screws.
Wall sections are small and light enough to be carried by a dual-rotor helicopter, and/or lifted by four men. They fit neatly into a cargo spaceplane.
Floors and roofs panels:
Metal-like trusses are pre-manufactured.
The trusses are screwed onto a plywood support floor.
A plywood subfloor is screwed on top of the metal-like truss.
Vinyl is glued on top, usually parquet-like to camouflage joins and screws.
High-voltage electricity is supplied through raised box-outlets in floor corners.
Floor sections are small and slight enough to be carried by a dual-rotor helicopter, and/or lifted by four men.
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Building construction: 1.
Foundation jacks are drilled and hammered into place. When subsidence occurs, the jacks can be adjusted by the homeowner. Extensions can be inserted if too much subsidence occurs years later.
2.
The rectangular floor is laid and a sturdy channel is attached around the outside of the rectangular floor.
3.
Walls sections are placed into the channel.
4.
The walls are cut to suit the roof… which is always a peaked roof.
5.
Wall-to-roof joins are attached to the top of the walls.
6.
The roof cap is attached.
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November 12, 2011 7. Roof panels are slid into the roof cap, and screwed into the wall-to-roof joins. 8.
Cut out openings for windows and doors. Don’t worry about cutting through honeycomb-studs or electrical cabling.
9.
Insert and screw in prefabricated windows and doors.
10. Insert the pre-fabricated toilet block. Water comes from a 100 liter tank, a pressure pump, and a small bore. Septic systems are a bit more complex; colonists begin with a 3-meter-deep hole lined with a 400 mm PVC pipe. 11. Add the pre-fabricated kitchen unit, including a sink, microwave/convection oven, and refrigerator. The sink drains into the ground underneath the house. 12. Expose relevant electrical outlets. 13. Electrically connect all of the walls and floor outlets. Power is supplied by a private or “camp” generator. 14. The house is finished by evening.
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A deeply random thought Probabilities are not scalar values, like 16.6%. According to Earth’s probability mathematics, if I roll a 6-sided die, I know that there is a 16.6% chance that the number “1” will come up. It is impossible to calculate the exact probability; probabilities are distributions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Histogram) At the very least, the probability of a die rolling a “1” is a Gaussian (not a scalar) with a mean and a variance: Some dice are loaded. Some dice have beveled edges and might stand on edge. Dice rolled in zero-gravity do not tend to stay on any number for long. Etcetera. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaussian_distribution, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Variance)
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WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 20/12/2010) TELEVISION COVERAGE “Rabbit TV”, which is known for its coverage of gore and war, is no longer the only syndicated news with continuous war coverage. Rodent Rat-TV and Cat-TV are now covering the war here, which has spread throughout this taurosphere and into adjacent taurospheres. (Rabbit-TV is still the goriest and most planet-destroyingfilled though.) Planetary leaders outside the war area are not longer limited to untrustworthy topsecret reports about planets being destroyed, invaded, and counter-invaded. They now have three independent television-stations to add to the information mix. As with anywhere, world leaders often cannot act upon “top secret” memos because action requires the cooperation of large portions of the non-top-secret government. Now that the rest of their government knows that a war has begun, military preparations for war can begin on their planets. The “top end” of our taurosphere has already prepared for war. Previously-sleeping non-Hominid governments are now ramping-up for war, in our taurosphere, as well as adjacent ones... and perhaps further.
A randomly deep thought High-tech missiles and bombs can be remotely activated/detonated even if the person that possesses them DOESN’T press any buttons.
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November 12, 2011
EARTH
Food (and Vodka) have been shipped off of Earth for the last few years (decades for Vodka) from remote Canada, Russia, and China. Food shipments have been delivered to the nearby dachas of wealthy families, often on small infrared-dark planets, where they are hiding out for the duration of the war. Some planets come with abandoned houses, buildings, and bunkers. Unfortunately, some of these planets are idled “floating planets”, owned-and-operated by others.
THE ORION SPUR (WHERE EARTH IS LOCATED)
Hominid settlers/colonizers are now occupying pre-industrial (“primitive”) planets in 3000 solar systems, about as many undefended planets as are habitable by Hominids. Most have 1 – 10 million settlers.
Many of the colonists are eventually loaded onto large freighters, flown off the pre-industrialized planets, and employed to colonize/occupy defended industrialized planets. Many freighters are destroyed in transit.
The three nearby disclosed Hominid planets shipped 15% of their population off to colonize pre-industrialized planets over a year ago. They recently shipped another 15% of their population out for colonization. They are expected to ship out another 15% in the next year of two.
One of the nearby disclosed Hominid planets is a retired “Goliath” littered with subterranean bunkers. It was “peppered” with a 15 – 20 smallplanetoids in an attempt to destroy the bunkers. One-third of the planet is now pitted.
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All three nearby disclosed Hominid planets have underground bunkers for air-raid shelters, weapons storage, and spaceplane storage. They also have cube and sphere rechargers camouflaged as downtown buildings.
The nearby disclosed planets are weapons’ warehouses. Their economies also rely on housing for colonists, farming, and revenues from non-disclosed planets.
A web of Hominid “floating planets” extradimensionally-hanging between the Orion Spur (in the Milky Way) and a perpendicular intersecting galaxy, has been cut free. The web (kind of) acts like an antennae array, providing communications for Hominid militaries, as well as blocking non-Hominid communications and telemetry. People expect the Hominids to soon reconstruct the web.
THE MILKY-WAY GALAXY
Twenty-two percent of the Hominid population has been killed. A muchlarger number of non-Hominids (although a smaller percentage) have been killed by the Hominids.
Conditions are analogous to the Orion spur, with virtually all Hominidhabitable pre-industrialized planets having colonists and militaries on them.
Hominids are invading industrialized planets by orbiting battleships over the planet. If their colonists and light military AREN’T allowed to land, the battleships severely bomb the planet. If the colonists and military are allowed to land, they take over several cities on the planet and “dig in”. Attacks on the Hominid colonists leads to other cities on the planet being
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November 12, 2011 nuked. If they are NOT attacked, then even more Hominid settlers and military land to populate the cities.
Counter-invasion forces have landed on pre-industrialized planets. They are hunting down the Hominid militaries and civilians.
A deeply random thought Televisions can be augmented with telepathy, incorporating emotions, feelings, and thoughts into the broadcast. Smell-o-visions also exist.
K-TICK-TUCK GALAXY
When several Hominid “floating planet” webs were recently cut, an enormous armada of military spaceplanes was spotted in K-tick-tuck. The armada consisted of battleships (capable of killing 250-million people on a planet each), enormous cargo-vessels loaded with 35-gigaton bombs, and passenger-sliders (see above) with 130-gigaton bombs. 1.0 “alien” tons of explosives is approximately 0.2 “Earth” tons of explosives. 130 gigatons is
= 7.5 times the diameter of the Tsar Bomba.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsar_Bomba) 2583 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 To take advantage the surprise location information, the armada was immediately set upon. Most of it was destroyed. In retaliation, the Hominids decided to immediately detonate their remaining giga-bombs over non-Hominid planets... Use it or lose it. Determining that the Hominids were “trigger happy”, the non-Hominid militaries decided to destroy all giga-bomb-carrying spaceplanes as soon they were found. Since the Hominids cleverly used enormous (300m across) cargo-ships for their bombs, and/or camouflaged their bomb-carriers as passenger-sliders, many Hominid passenger-sliders and enormous cargoships became targets. Which lead to further retaliation by the Hominids. Someone then discovered that 1 gigaton bombs were hidden on smaller cargo-ships. Approximately half of the Hominids’ large (100m across) cargo-ships are now destroyed. Food delivery is now very difficult.
IN OUR TAUROSPHERE
When K-tick-tuck’s Hominid giga-bomb vessels were found, searches were initiated in other galaxies. Similar-sized battles erupted in a few other galaxies.
35-gigaton Hominid giga-bombs have been used to “ringbark” planets. 35gigaton giga-bombs are detonated in a ring around the planet, one every 1000 km – 2000 km. Differently-flavoured 35-gigaton bombs are detonated in-between. These detonations produce enormous amounts of hydrogen,
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November 12, 2011 which then combine with oxygen to form water, and asphyxiate the planet’s remaining population.
Stealth communications ships have been spotted, and are being hunted down. It is thought that they are used for highest-security communications, as well as to signal the start of military attacks. They can be also used as 10gigaton bombs.
A flotilla-ball of millions of Hominid battleships (and other vessel types) was spotted in a nearby taurosphere, perhaps planning to blitzkrieg (fastinvade) the lower-portions of our taurosphere. In a large battle, one third of the battleships were destroyed.
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November 12, 2011 The nearby “Main Hominid Zone” has four-times the per-capita weapons of K-tick-tuck Hominids. K-tick-tuck Hominids have 1.6 times the per-capita weapons of disclosed Milky-Way Hominids. An incursion into the “Main Hominid Zone” was initiated to (a) test the defences of the Main Hominid Zone, (b) retaliate for some recent attacks, and (c) free billions hostages by killing them. 14 Hominid planets were severely damaged, several by ringbarking them. The Hominids launched an enormous retaliatory-volley of 1-gigaton to 30gigaton stealth missiles at non-Hominid planets in nearby neighbouring galaxies. Stealth missiles are very difficult to spot. Take 1 – 3 weeks to travel between galaxies, most have not yet reached their targets.
In retaliation, non-Hominid nations fired some of their stealth missiles at primary Hominid planets.
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A randomly deep thought What level of “story” abstraction can you exist in? 1.
You and your body are in a real-life situation. (Most non-Hominids are limited to this.)
2.
You watch other people enact the situation… aka: a play or movie.
3.
You read the script of the play or movie… aka: a book.
4.
You are provided with a setting and characters, along with the characters’ personalities, motivations, and some back-story. The actual events are left up to your imagination.
5.
You are provided with a setting, and character templates, such as what “alien” races partake in the setting. (This document.)
6.
You are provided with a physics and psychology textbook. You make up the setting and “alien” races.
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MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS (PART 1) CERATOPSIA ZITHER
With diagonal tension/whammy-bar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceratopsia)
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A deeply random thought π = e1 + 0e0 + e-1 + 0e-2 + e-3 -
e-4 + e-5 +
e-6 + e-7 - 0.000929640170
Some anonymous off-planet mathematics professors gave me the homework assignment of writing an equation for pi (π), in terms of e. Being a computer programmer, I opened up Microsoft Excel, created a spreadsheet with all powers of e, and played around with integers until I came up with a value close to pi (π). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E_(mathematical_constant), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calculating_Pi, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microsoft_excel) I call 0.000929640170, Mike’s constant. Apparently, if I were a mathematician, Mike’s Constant would be 0 (zero). Some hints that I was given (but ignored) were:
= ??? It’s some sort of series, dummy. Maybe a Fibonacci series, since that’s the only named-series that I know the name of. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mathematical_series, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fibonacci_series)
Mathematicians find the concept of expressing pi (π) in terms of e to be very sexy, because it eliminates a mathematical constant. By the way, pi (π) might also be imaginary, or something funky like that.
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November 12, 2011
TECHNOLOGIES THAT I HAVEN’T YET MENTIONED (PART 2)
Ballpoint pen with thin ink – Our ballpoint pens use thick, gluggy ink. A thinink ballpoint pen writes much nicer. The shape of a thin-ink ballpoint pen is a cylinder for the pen grip, beveled to a point, like a feather-quill pen. (Earth pens have a cone at the writingend.) The feather-quill-shape ensures that people always rotate the pen in the same orientation, bevel downwards. The pen’s tip contains a small nylon ball, oriented downwards, with a 0.02 mm ink reservoir. The reservoir is refilled by holding the pen upright (with pen-tip high), and then flipping it back into a writing position. The reservoir has enough ink to write a few lines. The reservoir is necessary to prevent the thin ink from gradually leaking through the gaps between the nylon ball and the pen-casing when the pen is idle.
Bone wraps – Barely visible on X-rays (if at all), these thin bone-shaped tubes of “metal” are extradimensionally firm-enough so that extradimensional strap-on weapons and devices can be attached to people’s bones. They also allow people to be more- safely “ripped” out of ordinary three-dimensional space, and into an extradimensionally-offset spaceplane or room. They are also used as identification devices.
Hologram box/plate – A 10 cm x 10 cm x 1 cm block of “Lucite” with a smoked-mirror on the back. If you look through the “Lucite” and into the mirror, three-dimensional additive-light images can be seen, appearing as if they’re inside the “Lucite”, or deeper… but never in front of the “Lucite”. Behind the “mirror” are directional sub-electron particle generators. The “Lucite” has two transparent field-generator plates in it to direct the subelectron particles. 2590 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Polyester(?) paper – This is a very-thin sheet of paper made out of a polyester-raincoat-like material. The material is mostly white, more brittle than raincoats, and 1/5th the thickness of Earth’s pulp-based paper. The paper has a weave printed on it so the pen-ink grips.
White room – Recall the room from the end of the movie, “2001: A Space Odyssey”. These are rooms in extradimensional environments, often spacestations, with “white (light-emitting)” walls, floors, and ceilings. The walls, floors, and ceilings emit a counteracting field so the room is comfortable to live in. (BUGUG – 2001)
A randomly deep thought What if rare-earth magnets produce a different type of magnetic field than ferrite magnets? Or rather, what if rare-earth magnets produce more than just a magnetic field, perhaps one or more of the quaternion fields? What if rare-earth magnets are important components in the manufacture of “Samoyed-Child Crazy Swings”?… as illustrated earlier.
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November 12, 2011
COMPARING EARTH’S SOCIETY (PART 2)
Grocery-store shelves are NOT filled with 50 versions of the same product, particularly 50 varieties of toilet paper. They usually have fewer (3-5) varieties to select from, but with a broader distribution from low-end to high-end.
A deeply random thought One of the effects of lower-soul damage (often from Soul-icide) is that people’s emotions and their emotional-range changes. For example: “Disdain” might be possible, but not “anger”.
LIFE IN “THE MAIN HOMINID ZONE” NORMAL LIFE Life in The Main Hominid Zone (500-ish galaxies away) is an awful lot like living in Southern Florida. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florida) You watch a FOX-television equivalent, with little news, lots of chat, some religion, some quiz shows, and soap operas. Wealthier people pay extra for documentary channels, and “PBS NewsHour”-like news. 2592 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fox_Television, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Today_show, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PBS_NewsHour http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discovery_Channel) Just as only 10% (?) of Floridians have ever flown to Europe, only 10% of the disclosed Hominid population has ever visited another planet. Even fewer have flown to a planet as exotic as Africa. In Florida, semi-wealthy people hire Cuban/Mexican/African-American “help” to tend their lawns, clean their houses, and make their fast food. Disclosed Hominids have Simian indentured-servants, and/or “animal people” slaves.
RECENT HISTORY About a year ago, 15% of the population was offered “top secret” jobs on some of the “fringe” planets. The scale of the operation never made the news, though. All you know is that a few of your neighbours accepted the offer, and recently flew off. They may have promised to write you a letter... but realistically, you don’t expect to hear from them again.
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001 Imagine that you turn on the television one morning, and learn that the World Trade Centre has been blown up by terrorists. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_trade_center, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/911_attacks)
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November 12, 2011 All television channels suddenly have around-the-clock coverage of the event. The government invents a multicoloured terrorist threat-level. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terorism_threat_level) A month later, someone is shipping anthrax through the mail. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001_anthrax_attacks) Through the news, you learn that some terrorists (who you have never heard of) in a remote third-world nation have been planning to attack your nation for years. When the President proposes “The Patriot Act”, declaring a weak martial-law, you wholeheartedly support him. When the President wants the remote third-world nation invaded, you wholeheartedly support him. Voluntary military enlistments rise markedly. You wholeheartedly support the president when, two years later, he wants another nation invaded, Iraq, based on the fear of terrorism. The United States had already de-civilized Iraq. You never know, but rough invasion-plans must have been prepared, both to keep Iran from over-influencing Iraq, and for crude-oil reasons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patriot_act, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afghanistan_war, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq_War_of_2003, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iran) As an average-person living in Florida, you don’t know that the United States is propping up several dictatorships in the Middle East. While you know that the United States supports Israel, you don’t know why people in the Middle East hate Israel. Israel does a LOT of crap to neighbouring populations, that is severelyunderstated by the mainstream news in the United States. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Israel, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palestinian_people, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaza, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Bank, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jordan, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syria, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lebanon) The terrorist attack on The World Trade Centre was a horrendous act. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if people in the Middle East who were negatively affected 2594 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 by United States’ government and religious policies, were able to discuss their issues with “the masses” through the United States media, in the 1980’s and 1990’s.
WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE MAIN HOMINID ZON E Like the United States, The Main Hominid Zone has an enormous military, and is prepared for war anywhere and at any time. Over the last 40 years, it has radically increased the size of its military, and stockpile of arsenal. As a resident, you think a large military is normal. Within The Main Hominid Zone are non-Hominid planets, partially-occupied and mostly-controlled by Hominids, similar to Gaza and pre-Castro Cuba. As a Hominid resident, you think this situation is normal; after all, “animal people” and Simians are incapable of ruling themselves and/or efficiently using their planets’ resources. Nearby non-Hominids are upset and enraged by the way their “people” are treated. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaza, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Cuba) Unbeknownst to you, people (and/or corporations, and/or nations) have recently abducted trillions of non-Hominids hostages, often from wealthy families. A planet with a billion people might have up to 500,000 hostages. After the war, the hostages will either be ransomed or sold as slaves. Unbeknownst to you, those 15% of your neighbours that took “top secret” jobs in the “fringe” planets, either took part in the invasion of pre-industrialized planets of “primitives”, and/or they are remotely-piloting bots on technological planets to harass, sterilize, and kill non-Hominids. Unbeknownst to you, your planet’s military is partaking in the invasion and destruction of many non-Hominid planets. Unbeknownst to you, this aggression has been going on for 800 Earth years, reciprocated in different ways by the non-Hominids. 2595 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A “World Trade Centre”-equivalent has just been blown up by non-Hominids... but the news-media censored the event by omission. The only hint of the attack is that several male-characters in a popular soap opera had to rush off to military assignments. Unbeknownst to you, your military reacted to the attacks by sending 60-gigaton stealth-bombs towards (and into) the aggressor non-Hominid planets, with a message: “Leave us alone. If you attack us, we will counter-attack you with ten times the fury.”
The United States counter-attacked Afghanistan with 10-times to 100-times the fury of the World Trade Centre destruction. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Cuba) The non-Hominids have responded with (approximately):
“Don’t attack our people, and don’t invade our planets.”
“Release the hostages you took... ALL of them.”
“Release our people that you have enslaved.”
“Don’t subjugate our people in your sphere of influence.”
“Don’t react with a 10-times multiple.”
“Don’t stockpile so many weapons. You’re scaring the shit out us.”
“Don’t have plans to invade us, four months from now.”
“While we’re at it, we want our planets back... which you invaded in the recent past.”
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“And by the way, we don’t like the way you treat your own citizens by under-educating them, botting them, and pogroming them.”
And more...
You hear NONE of this on your news.
WHAT HASN’T HAPPENED YET, BUT COULD... Non-Hominids could increase their attacks on The Main Hominid Zone. Not only do they have all of the previously-mentioned grievances, but they’ve been itching to “deal with their problem-neighbour” for 100-plus years. In half a year, after the attacks have scaled into a full war, the Hominid media could upgrade war-coverage from nil to around-the-clock. Non-Hominid slaves would, at this point, be considered very untrustworthy. They might be shipped off to internment camps, killed or tortured. Those already on majority non-Hominid planets within the Main Hominid Zone’s sphere-of-influence might be further subjugated, starved, and/or gassed. This would aggravate the grievances. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_American_internment, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Nazi-era_ghettos, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_concentration_camps, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarin_gas, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vx_gas) 15% of the incensed Hominid population would (voluntarily) enlist in the military, their future-weapons already waiting in military warehouses. The recruits would be trained within a few months, and shipped off to invade industrialised non-Hominid 2597 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 planets, up to 100-million landing on each planet in D-Day-style invasions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Normandy_landings) About this time, video of the invasion-and-slaughter of innocent Hominids would reach the televisions of distant Hominid-Empire clusters. They would sympathetically ship more spaceplanes and weaponry into our taurosphere, as well as military-advisors (and some regular-military). Distant and sympathetic nonHominid Empires already have military-advisors and regular-military here. They are here both to help out militarily (and with non-combatant support) as a result of treaties and training exercises. They also gain experience fighting Hominids and Hominid military-technologies, in the expectation of war in their region of space. As a general-rule, once wars are in full momentum, they don’t stop until one or both sides run out of people and/or arsenal. a)
Aware of this, the non-Hominids have incentive to blitzkrieg de-civilize The Main Hominid Zone before the Hominids can recruit a full military. The next target-date would be to blitzkrieg-destroy the Hominid civilizations before they receive military aid from distant Empire-clusters.
b) The Hominids know that the non-Hominids know this, and have incentive to blitzkrieg-destroy the non-Hominid civilizations before the non-Hominids blitzkrieg-destroy the Hominid civilizations.
The combination of (a) plus (b) is known as “mutually assured destruction.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutually_assured_destruction) Both sides have computer-modeled the war as thoroughly as possible. The Hominids did so before they began invading our cluster of galaxy clusters, and few times since. The non-Hominids rechecked their models before initiating the recent incursion. Both sides believe they will… not-quite-win… but that their actions will cause them to “lose less”.
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November 12, 2011 It’s more complicated than this: Five months ago, non-Hominid computer-models recommended an indefinite peace with The Main Hominid Zone. As the war has progressed, non-Hominids have discovered more about the Hominids that concerns them:
The Main Hominid Zone nations weren’t invading many planets five months ago. They are invading more now than expected.
Non-Hominids underestimated the number of hostages in The Main Hominid Zone by up to 90%. Small military incursions into The Main Hominid Zone a few months ago provided better statistics.
Non-Hominids underestimated the number of slaves in The Main Hominid Zone by up to 60%. Small military incursions into The Main Hominid Zone a few months ago provided better statistics.
Non-Hominids didn’t realize how much the Hominids subjugated the nonHominids in The Main Hominid Zone.
Non-Hominids underestimated the Hominid weapons-stockpile by up to 70%. Small military incursions into The Main Hominid Zone a few months ago provided better statistics.
Non-Hominids didn’t learn of the Hominids’ plans to invade major nonHominid planets until recently.
The non-Hominid public didn’t realize how poorly Hominids treated their own kind until the non-Hominid press began highlighting this issue. For example: On all public databases, “Earth” was marked as space-faring, Conversely, those few organizations that knew Earth was “un-disclosed”, didn’t realize until-recently how many off-planet Hominids were living on the planet.
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MEANWHILE… The Hominid Empire-clusters are cross-populating each others’ territories. This is intended to strengthen ties by mixing their populations and governments. Crosspopulating should also reduce illegal and egregious activities: such as slavery, hostage taking, maltreatment of non-Hominid populations in their territories, the botting of non-Hominids, and the maltreatment of non-disclosed Hominids. Representatives from other Empire-clusters didn’t know how egregious the illegal activities were until they arrived, along-with their colonists and militaries. Teleconferences with the local non-Hominids underlined the problems. Until the war starts, relevant parties don’t know that the war could have been stopped twenty years ago. Unfortunately, the Hominid Empire-clusters decided that as long as they were crosspopulating one-another, they might as well land their settlers (and militaries) on non-Hominid planets. This doesn’t help the peace-process either.
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A randomly deep thought Despite being the inspiration for the Mona Lisa, the Gecko-races had nothing to do with the Renaissance tm Corporation. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mona_Lisa, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance)
A NOTE ABOUT HOSTAGE-TAKING Electronic-money is not transportable in times of war. “Paper” money is, but it is easily counterfeited. Precious-metals prices are depressed due to a general over-supply and overstocking. In expectation of war, precious metals have been over-mined from Hominid planets, as well as occupied non-Hominid planets, invaded by Hominids over the last few centuries. Precious metals can also be counterfeited. (See the movie, “Avatar”, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_(2009_film)) Hostages are transportable wealth, particularly when they’re from wealthy/powerful families. They can be ransomed back, traded, used as “human shields”, or used as peace-talk intermediaries. Herbivorous hostages are cheaper to feed (and keep quelled) than carnivorous ones. They also become better slaves when they are no-longer valuable as hostages. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_shield)
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November 12, 2011 Per kilogram, hostages are currently worth much-more than gold (and other precious metals), particularly since in war-time, hostages are very-valuable as trades, “human shields”, and peace-talk intermediaries. Some economists have noted the economic irony. The potential for war boosts the price of hostages, which encourages hostage-taking, which increases the likelihood and ferocity of the war, which further boosts the price of hostages. Hostages have decided that they’re less-valuable per kilogram, if they put on more weight. They are also endeavoring to become more carnivorous, more ornery, and more difficult to catch (rifles, grenades, teeth, claws, and being four-legged or a swimmer help). Yelling, waving, and calling out “Nuke me!” to overflying nonHominid spaceplanes makes them undesirable “human shields”. Irate hostages do not make good peace-talk intermediaries, particularly when they intentionally aim to foment war.
A randomly deep thought As part of the pre-war, off-planet Hominid leaders have been botted by nonHominids, and telepathically convinced to make poor decisions, and vice versa. Hominids also bot their leaders to affect the leaders’ decisions. At the very least, they use bots to spy on their own leaders.
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November 12, 2011
REASONS WHY OFF-PLANET HOMINIDS ARE ON EARTH Select from one or more of the following:
Children – Pre-war sterilization of Hominids isn’t occurring on Earth. Hominids often cannot have children on disclosed planets because nonHominids attack them with sterilization bots. After living on Earth for a few years, off-planet Hominids regain their fertility, have a child (a United States citizen if they’re born in the United States), and often decide to stay.
Hiding out
Earth is a nice place to live.
Less botting – By both non-Hominids and Hominids.
Low-cost living – Potentially free if people live below their budgeted stipend.
Mostly-democratic governments
Multicultural
Religious beliefs – Other Hominid societies have the equivalents of conservative Christians/Jews. They do believe in evolution though.
University education
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November 12, 2011 Select zero or more agendas:
American-Revolution-like plans for Earth to form an independent nation, breaking away from the surrounding Hominid nations that control Earth. Those nations ALSO have American-Revolution-like plans to break away from the larger nation that they are part of. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Revolutionary_War) Recall the last few years of the X-files, where the previously-antagonistic “Smoking Man” turns out to be a subversive revolutionary, subtly counteracting people controlled by “the black oil”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Files, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smoking_Man, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_oil#Black_oil)
Export business – Legal: Computers, digital televisions, mobile phones, precious metals, antiquities, and food (Vodka, maple syrup, and Vegemite). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vodka, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maple_syrup, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegemite) Illegal: Pirated computer software, movies, music, and books. Illegal to export, but we don’t want them on the planet: Radioactive materials.
Working for the government of an off-planet nation/sub-Empire
Working for the off-planet mafia
Partial disclosure through science-fiction movies, television, and novels.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Macropod-evolved person: “What food from Earth would we like?” Me: “Sweet potatoes.” Macropod: “We know that [you dummy!]; we have something better. They taste like this.” I receive a telepathic impression of the taste of “sticky” sweet potatoes. Me: “That’s definitely better than our sweet-potato... You might also like peanut butter.” One week later: Macropod: “We managed to get a-hold of some peanut butter.” I get a telepathic impression of what it’s like to stick your (Macropod) finger into an opened plastic Kraft-food jar, thinking that the “Vegemite” label is a brand of peanut butter, and then downing the dollop in one lollipop-lick. Macropods do NOT LIKE large amounts of Vegemite. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kraft_Foods, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peanut_butter, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegemite) I have no idea where they got the food from; they won’t tell me.
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November 12, 2011
PORTRAITS (PART 1) ANT-EVOLVED
Note the really-cool (red-orange) compound-eye within a (white) sphere, within a (black) sphere.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Wolfen, intelligent four/two-legged wolves, look something like this:
http://www.shroudeater.com/bkwerewo.htm
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Aussies – Previously named Australopithecus-evolved, this is an older race than the Hominids. Hominids – The look like us. Oonks – A slightly-earlier branch of Australopithecus-evolved, with 15 cm tails and more Simian-like appearance… even though they’re unrelated to Simians.
Hominidae – The superset of Hominids, Aussies, and Monks.
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 1/2/2010) THE MAIN HOMINID ZONE THE TECHNOLOGY “WIPE” FLEET (THE THIRD WAR) A “technology wipe fleet” is a very-high-tech very-dangerous armada that is designed to attack a much-higher-technology zone with a specific purpose: to acquire technology manufacturing from that zone. A simile war strategy would be for low-technology Africans with rifles to invade Intel Corporation headquarters and processor fabrication plants. They would then dismantle the buildings and machines, move them back to Africa, and produce their own processors there. They might even take Intel staff back as slave workers. 2608 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Following the “standard” wipe plan, once the Africans had acquired Intel’s technology, they would kill everyone in the United States and leave it a smouldering ruin. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intel) A “technology wipe fleet” was discovered in the Main Hominid Zone a few months ago. The wipe fleet is so high-tech, that people are certain the battleships WEREN’T built by Hominidae. The following high-tech civilizations are potential targets for the “technology wipefleet”; they do not wish their civilization to be destroyed:
Cthulhuoids – Hyper-dimensional
eeoo – They live near the center of our tauro-taurosphere. (See their portrait below.)
“Greys” (dark blue-grey) – They live north of our tauro-taurosphere.
Wallaby-evolved and Hulu (furred wallaby-appearing Saurians) – They live far above the nearby aquatic zone, “Region A” in the section “Cluster of taurosphere clusters”.
Shark and dolphin-evolved – They live in the nearby aquatic zone, “Region A” in the section “Cluster of taurosphere clusters”.
Tyrannosaur-evolved and Stegosaurus-evolved – They live in the taurosphere directly above us.
The wipe-fleet’s destruction has precedence over other considerations because: 1.
The wipe-fleet craft are incredibly lethal.
2.
They are lethal to some very-high-tech civilizations.
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November 12, 2011 3. Allowing the Hominidae (and friends) to wipe the high-tech civilizations would allow the Hominidae (and friends) to incorporate the stolen technology-manufacturing into their future arsenal, making them even more bold and dangerous.
Immediate action took place after the discovery of the wipe fleet. In a Pearl Harborlike attack, 30% of the wipe fleet was destroyed while docked. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attack_on_Pearl_Harbor) The Hominidae rushed out and scattered the remaining wipe fleet with minimal crews, and without many of their proper commanders. A month before, the official wipe-fleet commanders had been discovered and land-locked in K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) while they were solidifying their battle plans. An intensive hunt for the scattered wipe fleet continues. Since the discovery of the wipe fleet in the Main Hominid zone, all nearby Hominid Zones within several tauro-taurospheres have been checked. It turns out that the wipe fleet in the Main Hominid Zone is only a portion of a much-larger wipe fleet, scattered amongst other Hominid Zones. Wipe fleets in other Hominid zones are also being attacked, sometimes without warning. Adding to concerns, portions of the wipe fleet may no longer be under centralized military command, but may be controlled by extremist sub-elements of the Hominids. This is very-very scary
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November 12, 2011
WAR AROUND THE MAIN HOMINID ZONE (THE SE COND WAR) The Hominid planets in the Main Hominid zone have enormous amounts of arsenal hidden in underground bunkers, sometimes hundreds of kilometres deep. Neighbouring non-Hominidae nations (often Cat-evolved) have long suspected this. Recent stealth-suit (encounter suit) incursions into Hominid planets in the Milky Way Galaxy (and other galaxies) have verified the Hominids’ arsenal-hiding predilection. Some planets have 10 x 300 gigatons hidden underground, as well as chemical/biological agents, and other arsenal. Some of the fissile materials are defensively-intended for planetary defence shields. Neighbouring-nations believe that the Main Hominid Zone’s plans were to: 1.
Silently move their wipe-fleet out of their territory, three months from now. (The Third and Fourth Wars)
2.
Once the valuable wipe-fleet was safely away, the Main Hominid Zone would commit troops and colonists to partake in the invasion of the taurosphere. (The First War)
3.
A decade from now, when the taurosphere should be largely occupied by Hominids, neighbours expect to be attacked by the Main Hominid Zone. (The Second War)
The surprise attacks on the docked wipe fleet caused problems... Only the most top-secret portions the Hominid military and leadership knows about the wipe fleet. Surprise attacks against the wipe fleet hidden in the Main Hominid Zone infuriated the Hominids there. They thought their ordinary, currentlynon-belligerent fleet was attacked without provocation, somewhat like Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbour. People in The Main Hominid Zone blamed neighbouring nations for the attacks. 2611 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This fanned long-smouldering conflicts between the Hominids and their neighbours, and is very-likely to develop into a full war a decade earlier than expected, “The Second War”.
WAR CONNECTIONS The Main Hominid Zone has been tied into “The Third War” (the technology wipe fleet), and “The Fourth War” (the time-war to acquire the technology wipe fleet; see below). The surprise attacks against the wipe-fleet have also ignited “The Second War”, a likely war between the Main Hominid Zone and its neighbours. The Main Hominid Zone, which was partaking in no-wars half a year ago, is suddenly partaking in FOUR wars.
A randomly deep thought Editorial correction: The sentient non-corporeal people living in “the planetary defenses” wish to be known as “The Stones”.
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November 12, 2011
K-TICK-TUCK (LOTS OF STARS) NON-HOMINIDAE APPROACH T O K-TICK-TUCK K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) has received enormous inflows of Hominid immigrants over the last decade, perhaps doubling their Hominid population. Immigrants have arrived from up to 2 tauro-taurospheres away so far. Within next 15 years, they are expected to come from up to 5 tauro-taurospheres away. Non-Hominidae have been taking advantage of these inflows to foster a nonbelligerent non-slaving Hominid “nations”. They have tried to encourage nonbelligerent non-slaving Hominids to form outposts (entire planets with billions of people) where the non-belligerent Hominids maintain law and order. The nonbelligerent Hominids are encouraged to prevent belligerent and slaving Hominids from settling in their territory. Theoretically and ideally, this separates the immigrants into non-belligerent and belligerent. Non-Hominidae have been extremely nice to the non-belligerent Hominids in Ktick-tuck (Lots of Stars), while taking an aggressive stance towards the belligerent ones.
SLAVE/HOSTAGE PLANETS Major cities on several egregious slave/hostage planets were recently bombed.
Historically, up to 10% of the population on rural Hominidae planets are “animal people” slaves. Up to 2% of urban populations are slaves. Over the last decade, Hominids enslaved quintillions of non-Hominidae from lowtech planets. Over the last couple of years, Hominids took trillions of hostages, 2613 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 often from wealthy families. Hostages are valuable as trade chattel, for their potential political contacts, and to be humiliated and/or tortured. Once they are nolonger valuable as hostages, the hostages can be turned into slaves, breeders, and even food. Some rural planets have been turned into slave/hostage planets, with a slave/hostage density up to 60% of the population. Over the last decade, the slave/hostage planets have also been populated by Hominidae. Hominidae residents are given/assigned slaves/hostages. Up to a third of the Hominidae on the slave/hostage planets are formerly well-todo war-dissenters. Not wishing to participate in the war, they offered the option of “retiring to a rural planet” for the duration of the war. Their political/legal status is tenuous. To taint them, and at the same time put them to use, they are assigned slaves/hostages that they cannot treat as equals.
DISCOVERY OF THE WIPE FLEET The previously-mentioned “technology wipe fleet” was discovered travelling through K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) a week ago, bringing the K-tick-tuck Hominids into “The Third War”. The discovered fleet was (and is) hopping between major Hominid planets. Hominid planets offer military protection and defence shields to hide the ships. When not in motion, the wipe-fleet ships often hide nearby or “inside” the Hominid planets/moons. The races/nations that are wipe-targets swiftly and aggressively reacted to the discovery. They sent high-tech battalions to destroy the wipe ships. The destruction of the wipe ships takes priority over Hominidae casualties and other negotiations/treaties between non-Hominidae and Hominidae. 2614 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A wipe-fleet vessel’s destruction within a planet often results in a side-explosion that destroys the planetary defence sphere, and/or other lower-tech Hominidae ships hiding in the planet. When outside the planet, a wipe-fleet vessel’s destruction is equivalent to at least a 10-gigaton non-explosive detonation in the planet’s atmosphere. The sudden destruction of the hidden ships, as well as side-destructions, has been seen as an aggressive act by the Hominids, many of whom had non-belligerent relations with the non-Hominidae. They now suspect and accuse the local nonHominidae nations of the attacks. Decades of work cultivating non-belligerent Hominids nations/outposts have been undermined.
DISCOVERY OF LEADERSHIP FROM MAIN HOMINID ZONE Side-destruction of the planetary-shield spheres also destroyed/disabled communications blockers. The failure of the communications blockers revealed the presence of many leaders from the Main Hominid Zone. Eavesdropping on them has revealed that they are using non-belligerent K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) nations/outputs to plan and execute operations for “The First War”, the mass-invasion of the taurosphere (and neighbouring taurospheres). First-war arsenal is being cached in non-belligerent Hominid nations. These discoveries tied K-tick-tuck Hominids into “The First War”. In particular, Ktick-tuck (Lots of Stars) Hominids are focusing on the mass-invasion of the Milky Way Galaxy, Andromeda Galaxy, and others nearby galaxies.
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November 12, 2011
WAR CONNECTIONS K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) Hominids were known to be weakly partaking in “The First War”, a mass-invasion of the taurosphere. With the discovery of the technology wipe-fleet, they are now also partaking in “The Third War”, the wipe-fleet, which ultimately pulls them into “The Fourth War”, the time war. K-tick-tuck (Lots of Stars) Hominids, including many of the “non-belligerent” ones, are now suddenly participating in THREE wars.
A randomly deep thought The Cthulhuoids remind me to remind you that they are not blobs with eye stalks (as implied by one of my cartoons). They have tried describing their hyper-dimensional hands to me, but “you might as well try describing a hypercube to a newt, you are that dimensionally inept.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypercube)
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November 12, 2011
INDUSTRIALIZED-PLANET INVASIONS BEG IN (PART OF THE FIRST WAR) A year ago, 1-million to 10-million Hominids were deposited on every low-tech (“primitive”) planet that they could land on. They constructed settlements, and then hunted (and/or enslaved) the low-tech indigenous populations. Half a year ago, the settlers began disappearing. They were picked up by spaceplanes, and have been in time-slowed transport for the last half a year, travelling to neighbouring galaxies. From the settler’s point-of-view: They were offered new work (or just food) and told to hop onto a transport. The journey took three weeks to them, half a year for us. Just before disembarking, they were debriefed and handed a gun. They were told to take over someone’s house, where they should find food and water. Killing a few of the non-Hominidae residents was expected. The mass-invasion is just beginning. Most are just “time-defrosting”. They are now (or soon will be) invading industrialized-technology planets as “shock troops”. Expecting a Hominid invasion of their cities, many non-Hominidae have abandoned their cities. They removed all food from their pantries, and shut of city water. Most nations and cities have been caught unawares though. If all went to plan according to the Hominid invaders, The Milky Way would have 1.9 trillion Hominids by now, many of them in transit. A year ago there were 0.5 trillion, and 0.38 trillion a decade ago. The assault has not gone entirely to plan. Approximately half of the time-slowed transports have been destroyed in transit. Triangulum was one of the first galaxies hit by the Hominid shock-troop invasion, about a month ago. Many of the Milky Way’s cities are being invaded now. This wave is expected to hit most galaxies in this taurosphere within the next few months.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought 2012 warnings/predictions are not just meant for Earth. They’re intended for all Hominid planets.
MILKY WAY GALAXY Stealth-suit incursions into underground bunkers took place on a few secondary Hominid planets, one in the Milky Way. Arsenal stockpiles were found deep underneath cities. The discovered arsenal stockpiles are assumed to be indicative of all secondary and primary/major Hominid planets. Several weeks ago, a Hominid planet north-east of us, and above, was hit with nuclear detonations, destroying half of the major cities. 200 million(?) died. An ex-Goliath west of us was grabbed with a “net” and flung towards her star. She is expected to fly through the corona of the star in the next week. The planet is solid rock, with tunnels and bunkers hundreds of kilometres deep. 1.8 billion commandcentre Hominids are expected to die as the planet they are trapped in passes near the star. To the east, north-east, a Hominid planet with 3 billion people had sizable bunkers. It was just hit by a “Grey” weapon that caused enormous earthquakes, equivalent to a 9.0 earthquake on the surface (3 meter displacement, at least). Most of the buildings are brick and/or wood. 100 million (or perhaps 10 million?) are thought dead. Half of the region’s food reserves were destroyed. Their region’s power 2618 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 infrastructure is destroyed. Their bore water has failed, and the region has no lakes. Being the core farming zone for the planet, no crops can be grown without power and water. 1/3 of the planet is effectively decivilized and uninhabitable – no buildings, no water. When the news reached a major Hominid planet to south-by-southwest, it was reported as a “minor earthquake”. (Very close to The Milky Way...) Another Hominid planet, with a heart of gold, was “activated” and moved into “slow time” so it could better receive messages from the future, as well as send messages into the past. Using a planet as a time transmitter/receiver does massive harm to the planet and its population. According to one of its spied-on time-sphere messages from a potential future, Earth Sol may soon be flooded by off-planet Hominids, different personality-wise than the off-planet Hominids that have already immigrated to Earth. They would be immigrating more for safety than to enjoy Earth’s cultures. They would be very racist, to the point of subjugating Earth’s indigenous population – including Caucasians. If too-many racist Hominids land, non-Hominidae might roll-back Earth’s technology (to pre-industrialized levels) to give them time to geneticallyremove the racism. Rollbacks often take hundreds of years. Don’t let too many offplanet Hominids land.
A randomly deep thought Seal-flipper paddle – Kayak paddles rippled like seal-paddles are more efficient.
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November 12, 2011
THE TIME WAR (THE FOURTH WAR) A time-war is a war to acquire time-technology from higher-technology time-faring races/zones, using a wipe-fleet and a time-fleet. Time-wars can last tens-ofthousands of years. The act of trying to acquire time-technology through an invasion/wipe leads to the use of time-technology in the war, both as a defence by the people being wiped, and offensively by those performing the wipe... and vice versa. Time wars are both wars to acquire time-technology and wars using copious timetechnology. Time-technology works (partially, kind-of) like this:
Time-balls and time-spheres transmit messages forward and backwards in time, as described previously. Entire planets, with “hearts” of gold or molybdenum(?), can be used like “very-large time-spheres”.
Time-ships take to the sky. Each time-ship pilot posits, “I hypothesize that my nation does Xn. I will watch communications to people in the set, Qn, following alternate communications-timelines 1..m, that match the pre-conditions on Xn. The alternate communications timelines produce possible futures, Yn,1 .. Yn,m.” The pilot then selects k timelines to follow from Yn, 1..m, and hypothesis new Xn+1 ... Xn+k . The results are communicated out of deep time-space to normal time-space. When/if the pilot leaves deep-time space, the world has changed by a few days or years, not necessarily as the pilot predicted. They take some time to
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November 12, 2011 read a newspaper, and re-enter deep time-space. n (from Xn) reverts back to 1, and the pilot begins the hypothesis tree/lattice all over again. More-advanced techniques allow pilots to “colour” alternate timelines so that the alternate timelines are more/less likely to occur. (See “Awareness dreams”.)
In a time war, one side inevitably finds itself a “time cone/funnel” where their options are increasingly restricted. The situation is similar to leveraged financial-traders who fall into debt, being forced to make largerand-larger, riskier-and-riskier bets to stay afloat. Their most-likely end is nochoice bankruptcy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Financial_derivatives)
The Hominidae (Hominids, Aussies, and Oonks) are MINOR partners in the wipe fleet. They are also participating in the time war.
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November 12, 2011 Time-faring races that do NOT wish to have their civilizations wiped by the Hominidae (and friends), and/or who are partaking in the time-war against the Hominidae and friends:
Arthropod-evolved
Pike(?)-evolved – They look somewhat like Gollum (from The Lord of the Rings movie), except they’re better looking, don’t have hair, or a nose like that, or ears like that either. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_of_the_Rings_film_trilogy)
http://www.moviemobsters.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/gollum.jpg
“Greys” (dark blue-grey) – North of our tauro-taurosphere.
Hyper-dimensional
TenYOUhuh
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November 12, 2011 eeoo – Their zone is naer the centre of our tauro-taurosphere.
A randomly deep thought Smilodons’ saber-teeth are used as wedges used to crack open small bones and access the marrow. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smilodon) Never get your saber-tooth stuck in a bone’s hollow. It’s REALLY embarrassing. Smilodons are a member of the “sleek” cat family, which include margays. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margay)
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November 12, 2011
MILKY WAY GALAXY (PART 2) All major (disclosed) Hominid planets have enormous integrated computers systems. Part of the computer system is an automated mind-control system to control their population, as well as populations of Hominids (and non-Hominidae) in neighbouring planets. The automated mind-control is fairly crude: It can encourage people to have 2.2 children, stay 20 minutes longer in shopping malls, wear green button-down shirts this year, or purchase larger houses. You know your planet is controlled by an automated mind-control system when at age 59 ½ exactly, people suddenly become obsessed with talking about their diseases and ailments, as well as taking medications. “Golden” people on the controlled planets take mental notes of other people who are conforming, and which people are non-conformists. The mind-control system automatically logs who the persistent non-conformists are. Automatic keyword spotting also exists. Thinking about the “UFO” keyword might lead to you being automatically tagged as a “non-conformist”. Non-conformists are assigned to telepathic “minders”. These “minders” are nosy (and often well-meaning) people living on colonist/settlement planets. Their job is to bring the non-conformists into line using telepathic thumps. Non-conformists that persist are “corrected”, and ultimately attacked with venom bots. They are eventually killed in undetectable ways, such as heart attacks. Non-Hominidae leaders have decided that they must destroy the computer systems on major Hominid planets. The recent severe-damage to The Milky Way’s major Hominid planets has reinforced this belief, as communications between Hominids suddenly improved after the destructions of some of the computers. Unfortunately, the computer systems are well-hidden and/or widely distributed. Destruction of the computer systems will further infuriate the Hominidae (an
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November 12, 2011 undesirable outcome) and cause them internet-failure-like infrastructure problem (an undesirable outcome). The further the war progresses, the more the non-Hominidae leaders realize that the war must progress further. Add “automated mind-control” to the list of grievances, which already includes slavery and pogroms.
THE SCOPE OF THE WAR This war is expected to be approximately 1-million tauro-taurospheres in volume. We are near one edge of the war. The war in our taurosphere is 1 – 3 years more-advanced than the war 5 taurospheres away. It is impossible/inadvisable to say how far the war has progressed 10-plus taurospheres away. The Milky Way has experienced only 2% - 5% of its expected aggregate destruction.
IMMIGRATION In expectation of an enormous war, non-Hominidae are migrating in all directions away from their homelands. Many have headed to our taurosphere. Their current inflows are only 20% of the size of the Hominid invasion-migration to this taurosphere. Their militaries also migrate. 2625 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Just as other races are scattering in preparation for the war, so are the Aussies and Oonks. Some have arrived in this taurosphere, receiving a cool reception from both the non-Hominidae and the Hominids.
A deeply random thought Zebra stripes are cooling systems. Blood is run through the skin underneath either the white and/or black stripes, depending upon the sun and heat. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zebra)
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November 12, 2011
PORTRAITS (PART 2) TENYOUHUH (PRONOUNCE D TEN-YOU-WHO)
Partaking in the time war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Placerias)
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November 12, 2011
EEOO
Partaking in the time war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_salamander)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Whale-songs determine distance (as well as location through triangulation) by employing the fact that the speed-of-sound through water varies based on frequency. One whale “sings” a variety of frequencies. A distant whale repeats the frequencies back, imitating the timings heard by them… kind of. Since frequencies travel at different speeds, the timings change over distance. The first whale hears the “echo”, and can estimate how far away the second whale is. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whale_song)
EX-HOMINID SOULS EX-HOMINIDAE SOULS/AWAR ENESSES Most Hominidae, when they die, have their souls and awarenesses put back in Hominidae bodies. Hominids are only synthesizing two-thirds the bodies they need, giving preference to military personnel. Few children are being born. Most Hominids that die and who wish to remain Hominids have their souls and awarenesses merged with living Hominidae. 2% - 3% of Hominids that die have their souls placed into synthesized nonHominidae bodies provided by e-races (elder-races). These people are selected for non-Hominidae bodies when their personality histories indicate they wouldn’t mind being non-Hominidae.
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November 12, 2011 Given a choice of bodies, Hominidae prefer Apes, Simians, and Alotians. The Apes, Simians, and Alotians have self-imposed limits to how many Hominidae souls/awarenesses they accept. Consequently, they get their pick of the highestquality Hominidae souls/awarenesses... intelligent, applicable skills, hard working, with a good “moral” history, etcetera. The remainder of the Hominidae souls/awarenesses destined to be non-Hominidae are distributed amongst the “animal people”. “Animal people” with grasping hands are greatly preferred by ex-Hominidae. “Animal people” with grasping hands, such as rabbit-evolved and squirrel-evolved, also have queues of intelligent, hard working, moral, ex-Hominids that apply; it’s not an application process though. “Animal people” with non-grasping hands, as well as four-legged “animal people” are seen as least desirable by ex-Hominids... Therefore, quality ex-Hominids are now distributed evenly amongst all body shapes by agreement. Every race has to accept less-desirable ex-Hominids also. Less-valuable ex-Hominid souls/awarenesses, who aren’t very intelligent, who made poor moral decisions, or who were lazy, are often provided the bodies of endangered races... at least they will have children and sustain the endangered races. Ex-Hominids almost universally ABSOLUTELY do NOT wish to be “Reptiloids” or “Insectoids”, so they aren’t forced into those shapes. “Greys” and others are only accepting ex-Hominid souls/awarenesses in special cases.
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November 12, 2011
RECRUITING Earth’s Hominids are one full standard-deviation (approximately two of our standard deviations) less-racist than most Hominids in the tauro-taurosphere, so they work well as non-Hominidae. A higher-percentage of us, more than the typical 2% - 3%, are being placed into non-Hominidae bodies. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_deviation) Ex-Hominids from Earth’s elite universities and corporations (such as Caltech, MIT, Harvard, Microsoft and Apple) are in high demand. Not only are they intelligent and hard-working, but they have social connections. Such social connections can be used to entice their valuable classmates and co-workers into a race/nation once their classmates’/co-workers’ souls/awarenesses have left Earth. Their connections also affect future trust relationships between races and nations. Both Hominidae and non-Hominidae are “recruiting”, and dividing up alumnus equally, by agreement. People from Caltech, MIT, Harvard, Microsoft, and Apple are being scattered throughout the nearby taurospheres. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MIT, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harvard, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microsoft, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple_Inc.)
“We’ll make you a warthog just because there are no other warthogs from Caltech.”
A randomly deep thought Mastodons much-prefer refrigerated carrion to eating leaves. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mastadon)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (2/3/11) I’d rather not write anything.
A deeply random thought A month ago, some devilish Red Pandas turned on my “World of Warcraft” heads-up display. I don’t have “glass” eyeballs, so I merely got 60 x 40 pixel resolution images when I closed my eyes at night, rising to 120 x 80 pixels when half-asleep. They showed me furry party-videos all night, with accompanying techno-pop music. The flashing mini-LEDs in the corners of my eyes got REALLY annoying. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_panda, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Technopop, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_of_warcraft, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heads-up_display)
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November 12, 2011
MORE DIETARY ADVICE FROM “THE ALIENS” OBESITY A fast-food hamburger meal has plenty of calories, but very little nutrition:
Medium-quality food-ingredients are approximately 30% less-nutritious than high-quality food-ingredients. Fast-food beef is less nutritious than butcher-store beef.
Speed-grown chicken has no nutrition. Slow-growth turkey does.
Frozen and canned foods are approximately 30% less-nutritious than fresh foods. This includes frozen beef patties and frozen potatoes.
MSG reduces nutritional uptake by approximately 30%.
Foods with preservatives are approximately 10% less-nutritious.
White bread has almost no nutrition.
Eaten every-other day, the same food (aka: beef and potatoes), is no longer nutritious.
Consuming soft drinks with a meal reduces the digestive-system’s nutritional uptake by approximately 20%. The caffeine isn’t healthy either. Nor if coffee. Consuming coffee reduces different nutrition, sucking nutrition (mostly minerals, such as calcium) out of the body.
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November 12, 2011 If the body doesn’t receive proper nutrition, then it makes its own nutrition.
Fat cells do NOT merely store energy (lipids). They inefficiently produce nutrition-chemicals missing from people’s diets. 20,000-ish nutrition-chemicals are required by the body. 2000-ish of them cannot be efficiently/accurately assembled by fat (and other) cells, and are best acquired through food. The body contains several different types of fat cells in different locations, each type with their own nutrition-creating specializations. Eating muscles and fat from different parts of the animal is important for carnivore nutrition, and perhaps Hominoid nutrition.
Malnourished people who over-consume calories grow excessive fat cells. The extra fat-cells are used to produce missing nutrition-chemicals.
People’s taste-preferences are affected by what nutrition-chemicals are low/missing in the blood stream. (By the way, red blood cells (kind of) also carry nutrition-proteins on their surface.) Obese people do NOT like the taste of anything but high-protein high-fat high-sugar high-salt foods because their abundant fat cells already produce (poor) copies of their other nutritional requirements from their highprotein high-fat high-sugar high-salt diet. Their taste-preferences follow.
Obesity can also be attributed to other factors:
Obese people also have elongated intestines and enlarged livers, enabling them to eat more. Once obese, the tendency is to stay obese.
Habit, convenience, and social pressures encourage overeating.
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November 12, 2011 Etcetera.
A deeply random thought The Alotians have been gently reminding me to remind you that they don’t have ears, just nubs.
ALCOHOL Cells are mostly liquid-filled, not necessarily with water-based liquids. Blood also is mostly liquid, not necessarily water-based. When alcohol is consumed and processed by the body, it produces a liquid that remains in the persons’ cells and blood stream. The alcohol-derived liquid impedes cell-functions for weeks (or months), until the body to get rids of it.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Lion-evolved whipped-cream desert
Thin hard-sugar base at the bottom of a square pan, like Peanut Brittle but without the peanuts. Flour crusts not-only don’t taste good, but they don’t support the weight of the desert when held. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peanut_brittle)
A layer of whipped cream. Fruits can occasionally be hidden in the whipped cream.
Carob bits on top, not chocolate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carob)
Chocolate/cocoa syrup crisscross on top.
THIN WATER AND THICK WATER Not all water molecules are the same.
Tropical rain-water is often “thick”.
Spring-water from colder climates, especially when pumped from certain mineral-rocks, is “thin”.
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November 12, 2011 Other nutritional categorizations of water exist, including heavy water. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heavy_water)
Most Homo Sapiens prefer thin water, most of the time. It’s more refreshing to drink. It may even taste better. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mineral_water) Carbonation in water may swap the “thin” oxygen molecules in CO 2 with the thicker oxygen molecules in H2O, thinning the carbonated water, and making it more refreshing. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seltzer_water) Since carbonated water tastes lousy, manufacturers add inexpensive sugars, flavours, and caffeine, creating soft drinks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soft_drink) Part of the reason why we consume soft-drinks is because of our thin-water preference. Many fruit-juices also contain thinner water because the fruit trees filter the thin water into the fruit.
A deeply random thought “We may have to invade Earth for your Indian vegetarian cookbooks.” – Anonymous Tikreet cook
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November 12, 2011
A MESSAGE FROM SOME EEOO...
We are NOT “time lords”. When we travel into the future and survey Earth-originated movies and television shows, we don’t like it when they title us “time lords”. We don’t technically travel through time, either. Nor do we like flying in TARDISes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_lord, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_Who)
We have very flexible mouths with stereophonic sound generators in our left and right interior-cheeks.
eeoo is pronounced “ee”, as in a balloon squeaking in a high-pitch as it lets out air, followed by a two-octave-lower pan-flute-like-sound for “oo”. The two “phonemes” overlap for half their durations.
We enjoy singing, and listening to music.
We also enjoy wresting and playing in the mud. (eeoo last studied Earth culture in the early 1970’s, and it shows. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dating_Game)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Aussie gyros, as seen in Rivendell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gyros, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rivendell)
Lightly-toasted buttered flat bread. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pita)
Goat (or lamb) cooked rotisserie-style as a kebab, with desired spices. Aussies raise specially-bred 150 kg goats. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kebab)
Feta cheese (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feta_cheese)
Yogurt with desired spices.
Some greens and/or tomatoes.
People in Lothlorien are vegans and only eat lembas. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lothlorien, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lembas#Lembas)
PERSONAL BUBBLE-SPACEPLANES Personal bubble-spaceplanes are very high-tech for Hominids, and low-tech for most other people. They are accessed through a personal garage or small warehouse.
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November 12, 2011 Arrayed inside the small warehouse are a few dozen motorcycles… minus the wheels. The seats are commonly a lean-forward design, since most people have tails, and cannot sit upright. To launch a personal bubble-spaceplane, the pilot sits on the lean-forward motorcycle-seat. They place their feet into the foot-pedal stirrups, and hands into the hand-control units. Handlebars are available for people who prefer to hold onto something. From the pilot’s perspective, a 3-meter diameter bubble appears around them as they and their motorcycle-seat are extradimensionally offset. The bubble displays a 360-degree view of the space they are in. It is computer generated and visually augmented. Pilots fly the spaceplane by thinking about where they want to go… which is typically one of several preprogrammed locations on another planet. The spaceplane doesn’t so much as fly, as “tack” like a sailboat. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tacking_(sailing)) From the inside, pilots see the planet fly-away as their spaceplane launches from the warehouse. They might even get a spectacular (augmented) view of the galaxy. To hop between stars, the spaceplane “rotates” and “offsets” in a non-threedimensional direction. As it does so, the galaxy’s stars fade into different colors, and then disappear. Another galaxy’s stars fade in. The spaceplane may three-dimensionally move a few astronomical-units to a nearby mass, perhaps a gas giant. Rocks and stars rarely fly past. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astronomical_unit) The new mass is used as a “tacking point”, from which the spaceplane rotates and offsets again, into another galaxy. (Or perhaps back to a galaxy the spaceplane was in previously.) When the spaceplane reaches its destination, the spaceplane automatically lands and pressurizes the pilot to the planet’s physics “pressurization”. 2640 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Extensive tutorials, and we mean EXTENSIVE, are built into the spaceplanes. They’re like an automobile with a built in driving simulator, driving instructor, driver’s-license tester, traffic cop, and chauffer (for completely-incompetent pilots). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Driving_simulator)
A deeply random thought When “Greys” (or Grey-oids as they prefer to be called this month) visit holiday scenic sites like the Grand Canyon, they INSIST on seeing the Grand Canyon. If it happens to by foggy, they at least want to see a life-size holographic projection of the Grand Canyon in front of them. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_canyon)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (19/3/2010) REALITY TELEVISION AND THE FIRST WAR VIDEO The Hominid planet directly to east of us (not the one that experienced the 9.0 Earthquake) recently began unknowingly participating in a reality-television show filmed by the non-Hominoids. The Hominid planet was chosen because its defence shields had been severely damaged, making filming easier, and because the planet is a relatively-small military target. (The war in the Milky Way Galaxy being moreadvanced, was also a factor.) The planet had thirty-ish shallow underground-bunkers, from military and staff were assisting with the invasion of the Milky Way and surrounding galaxies. A non-Hominid fleet assembled around the planet. Once every half hour, one bunker was warned of an imminent attack, and then bombed 15 - 30 minutes later with bunker-busting missiles. Meanwhile, a Hominid fleet showed up to counteract the non-Hominoid fleet. And, oh yes, high-tech undetectable television-quality invisible-cameras were flown into the bunkers, where they filmed the behaviours and reactions of the military and staff. For the most part, the behaviour of the Hominids in the bunkers was atrocious:
Cameras filmed normal planning-operations, as well as the botting of people being invaded on other planets... and the botting of people on Earth Sol. The capitalist pay-per-bot-attack system that the Hominids use was particularly distasteful.
When bunker-communications was warned that they would be imminently bombed, not all communications-departments passed the warning on to bunker staff, despite the obvious evidence that bombing was happening.
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November 12, 2011 When missiles were fired, bunker-defences sometimes successfully redirected the missiles away from the underground bunker into local civilian-suburbs, 10-ish kilometres away. To counteract missile-redirection shields, a second larger-detonation (10-plus kilometres in radius) was sometimes employed... destroying the entire city above the bunker.
Only one team fled their bunker when warned of an imminent attack. They took an impromptu lunch break away from the bunker (located underneath the city centre). Their spouses, working in the city centre above, were also invited.
Hominid battleship retaliation took place after the assault. A wipe-fleet ship participated in one such attack, stating their attack to be retaliation. Participating wipe-fleet ships also had high-tech invisible television-quality video-cameras watching their crews. One quote from a member of the ship’s command-crew was, “We need to get this done now. I have to get back to my base. I need to finish my homework assignment.”... and then ended the lives of tens-of-millions of non-Hominoid people.
MISSILE RETALIATION When a bunker was hit by a missile, or shortly before, a bunker-leader would press an alert button, signalling to planet’s military that the bunker had been attacked. If enough bunkers were attacked, a portion of the planet’s retaliation-missiles would be launched. When a retaliatory missile-launch ultimately occurred...
Hidden missiles launched from grain-silos and empty fuel-tanks. A consequence of this is that, for all Hominid planets, it is now assumed that some grain-silos and empty fuel-tanks hide missiles. The silos and tanks are
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November 12, 2011 therefore potential targets in future assaults on Hominid planets... which means that many authentic grain-silos and fuel-tanks will be hit unintentionally, or “just in case”... which means that the Hominids will have less food.
Hidden missiles also launched from tall city buildings. Consequently, tall city buildings are potential future targets. Since tall city buildings are clustered together, it’s easier to nuke the entire city with a 10 – 100 megaton nuke, than to hit individual buildings with dozens of smaller tactical nukes, most of which will miss due to defence shields.
The missiles were cleverly disguised as personal-spaceplanes and yachts. They were programmed to take up to several days to reach their target, masquerading the flight-patterns of personal-spaceplanes and yachts. Consequently, Hominid personal-spaceplanes and yachts are potential missiles, and subject to attack. As stated half a year ago, Hominid (food) cargo-vessels are already potential missiles, and also subject to attack. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RMS_Lusitania... a civilian ocean-liner carrying weapons)
Many of the bunkers were built below city centres, or vice versa. The destruction of a bunker would often lead to the collapse of buildings above it. NEVER place military facilities near (or under) civilian cities and towns. Hiding military structures and weaponry amongst civilians is a VERY common practice for Hominid planets.
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DISTRIBUTION The video feeds were edited into a full-day (24-hour) video, and are being distributed to non-Hominoid world-leaders. To minimize bias, different editing teams from different organizations and races have produced independent edits. Just like everyone else, world-leaders are influenced by television news; classified reports are dull and uninteresting, and boring, and less-exciting than reading a dictionary from start to finish. The full-day video will set the tone of the war for this region. Because the videoed Hominids acted so unprofessionally, and because of highlighted Hominid-military camouflage-tactics (mixing military with civilians), world-leaders will have even-less respect for their Hominoid enemy. World-leaders not-yet-at-war, will be more predisposed to disdain and disrespect the Hominoids. The full-day video is being augmented with follow-on “episodes”, as well as prequels. Because the attacked Hominid-planet is instrumental in the subjugation of the people on Earth Sol, Earth Sol features significantly in the prequels. Non-Hominoid leaders have been surprised that Hominids would subjugate other Hominids. As a consequence of Earth Sol being mentioned in the documentary, Earth Sol has been watched and time-balled/sphered for the past hundred years. Apparently, I get half a sentence mention in one of the cuts. As a consequence of that, I have been time-balled for the last decade. According to some mimetically-mischievous Cthulhuoids, because I mention H. P. Lovecraft so often in this document, he was time-balled nearly one-hundred years ago. Cthulhuoids have a weird sense of humor though, so you never know if they’re telling the truth. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_Lovecraft)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought When the median IQ of a Hominoid (formerly called Hominidae) civilization is below 140, someone eventually comes along and convinces them to take over the world. Above 140, someone convinces them to do something that no-one has ever done before… like genocide specific races.
THE FIRST WAR To date, non-Hominid casualties are about 10-times the number of Hominid casualties.
TELEVISION AND FUROR E Rabbit-news-television and Cat-news-television both broadcast to wide audiences. Because their audience has no common language, or even common telepathy, both news-stations almost-exclusively show charts, graphs, and videos. There are no talking heads. There is no commentary. There is no non-numerical text. Rabbit-news-television displays videos of planets being destroyed, bombs going off, infantry combat, and prisoner-of-war camps. Cat-news-television avoids the video images, and displays copious Football-style invasion-charts as “The Six Kingdoms” military-invades their territory. (“The Six Kingdoms” was formerly known as “The Consortium” or “The Main Hominid Zone”.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Football)
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November 12, 2011 When Rabbit-evolved people get furious, they go Kamikaze. A month before their Kamikaze assault on Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck), Rabbit-news-television broadcast emotion-laden silent-stills of the faces of war-killed children for several hours a day. Rabbit-news-television is once-again showing death-stills. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kamikaze) Cat-evolved people are much-more quickly-enraged by atrocities... which is why Catnews-television normally only-displays unemotional graphs. Cat-news-television has recently begun displaying close-up-pans of war-killed Cat-evolved people, tastefully avoiding any face shots. The best way to describe a Cat-evolved-nation’s emotional-state is to find an Earth-video of a pride of female lions turning against an egregious male... the egregious male being the Hominoids in “The Six Kingdoms”. (http://animal.discovery.com/videos/killer-clips-lion-fight-2.html) Other races are equally furious, Lemurs even more-so. Simply put, “They’re dead [in The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars]. They’re all dead. They are going to die in horrendous and horrible ways.”
REALITY TELEVISION, THE SECOND WAR, AND A LONG WEEKEND One non-Hominoid war-strategy has been to attack the most-egregious cities and nations first, hoping that the more-reasonable Hominoids will decide to stop participating in the war. Such a war requires years-to-decades of (relatively) lowlevel battles to resolve. Statistics, psychological models, past behaviours, and the reality-television show have led many world/military-leaders to conclude that “The Six Kingdoms” war might-possibly turn into “mutually assured destruction”. A slow-war with low-level battles appears to be less-and-less likely. The war with “The Six Kingdoms” could rapidly accelerate, and in a worst-case-scenario, be over in a long-weekend. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutually_assured_destruction) 2647 | P a g e
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A deeply random thought “We will prance on their bones, in the end.” The last line of a Liger children’s book, ostensibly about a fight with a Woolly Mammoth that destroys their village. In reality, the book is about the genocide of the Ligers in K’ Tick Tuck (Lots of Stars) by the Hominids, 80 years ago. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wooly_mammoth) This quote has been prepended with an often-heard Hominid quote: “They will fight to the last weapon. But we will prance on their bones, in the end.”
THE ZEROETH WAR Many of the Hominids invading our taurosphere (and surrounding taurospheres) are break-away revolutionaries. They began planning the taurosphere invasion several-hundred years ago with a side-goal of breaking away from a larger Hominidzone, five tauro-taurospheres to the north. The revolutionaries detested many of the oppressive Hominid Human-rights policies and practices enforced by the distant government... Economic considerations were also important. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Revolution) The distant government didn’t (and doesn’t) like such treachery. 2648 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Consequently, the distant-government seems to have tilted the First and Second wars so that the revolutionaries will ultimately die... but only after the revolutionaries helpfully kill off many of the technological civilizations in this taurosphere. The distant-government then has the option of showing up in 10 – 20 years time, and more-easily taking over this taurosphere. Some hypothesized ways that the distant-government has doomed the revolutionaries are:
The revolutionaries are infiltrated by anti-revolutionary moles/traitors from the distant Hominid-government to the north. Their job is to ensure that the break-away revolutionaries kill-off as many non-Hominoid civilizations as possible, but that in the end, the break-away revolutionaries will be killed off by non-Hominids and/or starvation.
The better-leadership/military of the revolutionaries has been drawn away to take part in wars and invasions north of here. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palace_of_Versailles... controlling the French nobility)
Three times the expected number of Hominid immigrants/invaders have arrived in our taurosphere, creating an administration-nightmare for the revolutionaries. Many of the immigrants/invaders are “War-bred”. See below.
Non-Hominoids have quickly-been incensed by the scale and scope of tripled-invasion. A stealthy invasion would have worked better politically for the Hominoids.
Remotely-dictated policies, such as kidnapping and slavery, have further upset the non-Hominoids.
The Hominid news media is so-controlled that most of the local population STILL doesn’t realize there is a war. If it’s not on the news, then most
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November 12, 2011 Hominid world-leaders don’t know about the war either, nor can they convince their legislatures that there’s a war.
The Hominid government and military intelligence networks are so censored and contorted that Hominid-leaders don’t learn much from their classified briefings. They are making critical decisions without proper information.
A deeply random thought The Grey-oids now wish to be called Grey-iloids because “Grey-oids” is too difficult to say.
WAR-BRED “War-bred” populations are genetic varieties of a race:
They are ideally-suited for one or more functions of war. They tend to be sociopathic. They don’t mind invading, subjugating, enslaving, and/or killing others. They follow orders, and are easily mind-controlled by bots. They don’t ask for much pay. They don’t think about retirement either.
During times of peace, War-bred personalities are extremely undesirable, so undesirable that they must be marginalized, arrested, and/or pogromed.
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When a long-term war is scheduled, populations of war-bred people are cloned into embryos, implanted into women through in-vitro-fertilization, and raised on isolated planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_vitro_fertilisation)
The governments that raised the war-bred hope that most of them will be killed-off by the enemy during the war. Those not killed by the enemy must be sterilized, marginalized, arrested, and/or pogromed after the war. Failure to do so could easily result in the destabilization of the Hominoid society.
Using war-bred people is frowned upon, and very dangerous. Estimates are that 30% of the immigrants/invaders are War-bred. War-bred people have been deposited in “The Six Kingdoms” and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) for 100 – 200 years. If the break-away revolutionaries manage to survive the Zeroeth, First, Second, Third, and Fourth wars, they must then deal with the War-bred population. Warbred people are not easily identified, and must be ferreted out by law enforcement before they destabilize the society, and/or breed with the more-lawful population. If the War-bred get onto Earth, think Vandals, Visigoths, and Huns. They are capable invaders, but incapable rulers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vandals, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Visigoths, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huns)
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THE NEGATIVE-FIRST CONFLICT Five (or more) major Hominoid organizations are partaking in the invasion of our taurosphere:
“The Six Kingdoms” –This organization can be subdivided into, of course, six smaller (but still-large) organizations, each with their own goals and agendas.
Invaders A – From north of us in the tauro-taurosphere.
Invaders B – From below and to the east of us in the tauro-taurosphere. They seem to be coordinating with Invaders A in Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck). Invaders B have come up from below and to the east, through the Apeevolved, Simian-evolved, and Mandrill-evolved galaxies, Barumba and Ayum. They are also partaking in the invasion of the Saurians in our taurosphere, opposite “The Six Kingdoms”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandrill)
Invaders C –are coming up from below and to the west. They seem to be partaking in the invasion of the Saurians opposite “The Six Kingdoms”.
Invaders D – They originate from above and to the west of the Saurian taurosphere.
All of these organizations are in coopetition, cooperative competition. They don’t directly war against one-another, but they do race to take over planets and galaxies. They also partake in political skullduggery. 2652 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 With five (or more) major participants in the formation of the break-away taurosphere, how likely is it that one of them is secretly anti-revolutionary?
A randomly deep thought People from other planets are impressed by out passenger jets. Historically, most of their civilizations invented biplanes, and then went straight on to spaceplanes after a bit of engineering help. By the way, passenger spaceports are BORING; you don’t see the spaceplanes at all, even when they take off. To board a spaceplane, you walk down a 250 meter corridor that is extradimensionally angled. Seating is business-class. Baggage claims are exactly the same.
REDIRECTED HOMINID-INVASION FLOW, HYPOT HESIS The revolutionary Hominids are currently pointing their invasion-fleets towards our taurosphere (and neighbouring taurospheres). Now that the invasion-flow has begun and stabilized into a smooth process, the Hominoid leadership could redirect the invasion-flow at any time. If our taurosphere provides too much resistance, they might redirect the flow further north (deeper into the following map):
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One possible target for a redirected invasion-flow could be the “Wallaby-evolved, Hulu, and others” zone. The zone is located directly underneath Hominoid-friendly Alotian space, providing excellent trading opportunities, as well as a not-necessaryto-defend border above. (The Alotians do NOT condone the war, and many are being negatively impacted by the Hominoids.) One possible scenario is: 1.
High-tech civilizations in the “Wallaby-evolved, Hulu, and others” zone would be cleared out by the high-technology wipe-fleet.
2.
The Hominoid immigration/invasion flows would be redirected into the zone, away from our taurosphere.
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November 12, 2011 3. Hominoids are already invading the “Zone wiped out by war tens-of-millions of years ago.” A corridor of well-defended Hominoid galaxies from the wiped-out zone, to our taurosphere, to the Saurian taurosphere, to the “Wallaby-evolved, Hulu, and others” zone would create a resourcetransportation corridor. 4.
For the resource-corridor to work, high-tech civilizations in the Sauriantaurosphere (above us) would need to be cleared out using the hightechnology wipe-fleet also.
5.
The Aquatic zone would not need to be attacked by the technology wipefleet.
A deeply random thought The three different skin-colors on Clownfish produce three different sets of nutrients. The three “pigments” do not produce the desired nutrients when mixed, or located close to one-another. Our monotone skin produces one set of nutrients, including vitamin-D. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clown_fish, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitamin_d) Coral Snakes are related to Clownfish. Their multi-colored skin also produces nutrients. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coral_snake) (One of) the arch-enemy meta-races of the Hominoids is related to both Clownfish and Coral Snakes. Hominoids and the yet-unnamed-metarace have been at war for 10,000 years, partially because they fill the same mono-racial economic-powerhouse metaorganism-niche.
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November 12, 2011
THE CONSTANTINOPLE HYPOTHESIS From Wikipedia’s article about Constantinople: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantinople) [Year] 306–337 Constantine had altogether more colorful plans. Having restored the unity of the Empire, and, being in course of major governmental reforms as well as of sponsoring the consolidation of the Christian church, he was well aware that Rome was an unsatisfactory capital. Rome was too far from the frontiers, and hence from the armies and the Imperial courts, and it offered an undesirable playground for disaffected politicians. Yet it had been the capital of the state for over a thousand years, and it might have seemed unthinkable to suggest that the capital be moved to a different location. Nevertheless, he identified the site of Byzantium as the right place: a place where an emperor could sit, readily defended, with easy access to the Danube or the Euphrates frontiers, his court supplied from the rich gardens and sophisticated workshops of Roman Asia, his treasuries filled by the wealthiest provinces of the Empire.
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November 12, 2011 Our tauro-taurosphere is at the frontier of The Hominoid Empire.
If the Empire’s current-equivalent to Rome were to be relocated, it could be moved to any frontier in the empire, beginning 20 years from now, and taking 500 – 1000 years to complete the move. The area shaded in light-blue is one possible frontier “province” where a “Constantinople” (“Rome” replacement) could be built. If the Empire were to build a Constantinople here...
They certainly wouldn’t want a break-away rebel Hominoid-zone nearby. The rebel zone would provide an opportunity for non-Hominoids to align with the break-away rebels, and potentially infect Constantinople with moles and traitors.
The founders of Constantinople would want all of the nearby high-tech non-Hominoid civilizations to be killed off, perhaps using the hightechnology wipe fleet.
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November 12, 2011 Most of the non-Hominoids in the region would oppose a Constantinople. They would work to ensure that The Hominoid Empire doesn’t ever consider the option... which means they will fight that-much-more fiercely and aggressively against the invading Hominoids. War plans could be amended to include the destruction of pre-existing Hominoid zones, just to make sure that Constantinople won’t be built here.
One hypothesized (but unlikely) location for a Constantinople might be the “Wallaby-evolved, Hulu, and others” zone, directly underneath the nearby Alotian zone. (See the image in “Redirected Hominid invasion-flow, hypothesis”.) Before a Constantinople would be built there though, the Hominoids would need to retake territory from the Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved regions.
ARRIVAL OF REPTILOID META-RACE, HYPOTHESIS If the hypothesized Hominoid “Rome” is located where some people think it is, then the arch-enemies of the Hominoid “Rome” are “reptiloids” evolved from the clownfish and coral-snake line. They seem to be arriving in our taurosphere, along with other migrants and their militaries. The Romans invaded Byzantium before turning it into Constantinople. What if the leaders of Byzantium discovered that they were going to be invaded and that their city would turned into Constantinople? Would the Byzantium leaders have invited the Carthaginians, arch-enemies of the Romans, to protect/occupy their city? (No analogy is perfect. Carthage was destroyed well-before Byzantium was invaded.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carthage, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byzantium) 2658 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
“STAR DESTRUCTOR” A “star destructor” is an enormous “bomb” the size of a moon. Over the last hundred years, the Hominoid invaders have distributed several star-destructors to each galaxy, for use in this war. A star-destructor bomb, when flung into a star and “detonated”, disrupts the star’s physics and causes part of the star to “explode”. The star’s light temporarily fails for a few minutes. Enormous bits of “star stuff” fly out from the detonation-side of the star. If/when the star-stuff collides with a planet several days later, everyone on the sunny-side of the planet dies. A few days/weeks after that, the star-stuff falls back into the star, potentially killing everyone on the shady side of the planet. Many planets in the solar system are affected. A star-destructor was found near the major Hominoid planet in the northern part of the Milky Way galaxy. The Hominoids were planning on imminently using the stardestructor on someone else’s star. In an act of pre-vengeance, as well as invasion-cost calculations (similar to “Does the World-Word-II United States nuke Japan or invade it?”), the Hominoids’ own stardestructor was set off in their solar system. 2,000,000,000 to 4,000,000,000 people (Hominids) were killed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Some of the genetic “programming” of viruses might be attached to the innerlining of their shells. Mitochondria might be similarly designed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Virus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitochondria) Red blood-cells and malarias might attach some of the genetic “programming” to the inner-lining of their “cell” walls using a different mechanism. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_blood_cell, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malaria).
EARTH, WHERE IT FITS IN Earth Sol is caught in the conflict:
People are hiding out on Earth Sol to avoid the war. Others plan to land and hide out when the war gets too hot.
Families of leaders are held here as quasi-hostages (albeit in verycomfortable conditions) while leaders perform their leadership duties on other planets.
Homo Sapiens on Earth Sol have been genetically modified by nonHominoids over the centuries, to be less-racist and less-expansionist. Offplanet Hominids do not like Hominids genetically modified by nonHominoids, and tend to pogrom them.
The Milky Way Galaxy is the planned capital (like Washington D. C.) of the break-away Hominid government. It is a small galaxy in-between several
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November 12, 2011 larger ones, like Andromeda and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck), which have been allotted to the major Hominid invasion-partners. Because it is so defensible, Earth Sol is a potential future-capital planet of the break-away government. This wouldn’t occur for hundreds of years though, if ever. Since The Hominoid Empire dislikes the break-away rebels, it has potential plans to destroy Earth Sol to get back at the rebels.
The Greyiloids (as they currently wish to be called) have been protecting Earth Sol. Since the Hominids dislike the Greyiloids, some Hominids also wish to destroy Earth Sol to get back at the Greyiloids. The Hominoids have plans to genocide the local Greyiloids. If that happens, then no-one would protect Earth Sol from Hominoid attacks and invasion. This predicament has recently changed however, with several nations/races involved in the defence of Earth Sol. The reality-television video has helped.
Earth Sol is a former “goliath” (flying planet). If billions of Homo Sapiens were killed in a war or natural disaster attributed to the “reptiloids”, then Earth Sol might become a “haunted planet”, like Mars. (Mars is haunted due to a previous war, millions of years ago, where it was ripped out of three-dimensional space. Most of the four-legged (?) people living on the planet were killed.) A haunted Earth Sol could once again reactivate as a Hominid goliath, and be used for a war 500 – 5000 years from now.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Some Horse-evolved races regularly change between two-legged and fourlegged bodies, each body providing an “emotional” counterbalance to the other. Changing to a four-legged Horse body is like wearing casual clothes to work on a “casual Friday”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casual_Friday)
ENGINEERING (PART 5) FIZZ ENGINE Begin with a four-cylinder petrol engine: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_cylinder) 1.
Square pistons work better the circular pistons (cylinders), if engine-blocks can be manufactured with square pistons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piston)
2.
Instead of 4 pistons, build an engine with 100-ish pistons.
3.
A crankshaft with 100-ish pistons mechanically-attached is untenable due to friction and perpendicular forces. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piston) Solve the problem by attaching a “magnet” (not relying on electric or magnetic fields, perhaps a rare-earth magnet) to each piston. The “connecting rod” (which is just a wire) transfers the force magnetically instead of mechanically, to the magnetically-“encoded” crankshaft.
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November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Connecting_rod, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rare_earth_magnet, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crankshaft) 4.
Add a small computer-processor to fire the pistons at the right time based on torque and speed requirements.
5.
The computer-processor also detects and disables malfunctioning pistons. When half the pistons have failed, throw the engine out.
A deeply random thought π is not a number. The length of π, |π|, is a number. π is formed by sweeping a point in a closed-arc. The point is attached to a straight line of constant length. The line is swiveled around a center-point. (This definition is entirely incorrect, by the way, but better than your current definition of π.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi) What this means…
In curved space, |π| != 3.14158.
π cannot necessarily be treated as a constant when derivatives and integrals are used.
If en + iφ = en (cos φ + i sin φ), then,
| e0 + iφ | = 1, | e1 + iφ | = 2.71828.
e is (kind-of) the center-point around which the π -producing line is swiveled. The length of the line is 1.0.
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November 12, 2011
eiφ is a rotation of the swiveled-live, where φ ranges from 0 to 2π.
But if the length of the line from e to the circle is 1.0, then |π| = 6.283185, as it is on every other planet. Oops! No problem, just a definition issue.
It helps to think of e and eiφ as having unique units, akin to mass or distance.
All of this becomes problematical in curved space, as well as when derivatives and integrals are involved.
There is a third constant from with both |e| and |π| can be constructed. The definition of |e|, | π |, e, and π, can be used to create the appropriate “series” for calculating |π| in terms of |e|, |e| in terms of |π|, or |e| and |π| in terms of a third constant. … I’m not a mathematician. This is about as much as I understand.
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November 12, 2011
WHAT IT’S LIKE TO WEAR AN ENCOUNTER SUIT An encounter suit is like a terrestrial dry-suit that lets people survive in extradimensional-space for short periods of time. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dry_suit)
TYPES OF SUITS Several different types of encounter-suits exist:
Emergency suits are available on spaceplanes and space-stations. They come in small packets that are extradimensionally chilled. During an emergency, passengers are handed the baggy suits. The suits are constructed of a very-thin dark-grey material, with a zipper in front.
Low-end suits are stored in chiller boxes. A few minutes before opening, a “thaw” button is pressed on the box. Low-end suits are a very-elastic greymaterial, as thick as terrestrial wetsuits. When put on, the suit has a headcover that seals up around the neck.
Some suits are extradimensionally attached to their owner’s spine, similar to the way that extradimensional strap-on weapons are attached to people’s arms. The suits are activated by telepathic-command and/or limb motions. The suit “inflates” and begins covering the person’s upper body. To put their shoes on, the person slowly lifts their right foot and takes a step; a shoe appears around their right foot. Repeat for the left foot. Within a few steps, the person is entirely encased by the suit.
Combat suits are often stored in chiller boxes. They tend to be blue or purple in colour.
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November 12, 2011
VISION Encounter suits are extremely-uncomfortable and claustrophobic-inducing. People require a lot of exposure before they actually feel (somewhat) comfortable inside them. From inside low-end suits, people look through goggles with limited field-of-view, and no visual telemetry. High-end suits have a full field-of-view, although the visuals are distorted spatially and colour-wise. Visual telemetry is included in the eyepieces. Encounter suits have a battery that provides energy to displace the suit and wearer extradimensionally. The energy pack also provides oxygen concentration, as well as flying ability. As soon as the suit is worn, the suit pushes itself extradimensionally out of ordinary three-dimensional space. From the outside, the colour of the suit changes slightly. Or, some higher-end suits turn silvery and transparent with visible Mach bands. (Like in Predator, the 1987 film.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Predator_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mach_bands) Eyepieces have “lenses” that extradimensionally-move independently of the wearer’s head. This lets wearers see “the normal world” instead of the extradimensional plane/physics their body is in. Because the eyepieces are closer to ordinary three-dimensional space, they are more visible (and touchable) than the person’s body. As the suit extradimensionally-shifts away from ordinary three-dimensional space, the wearer sees: Objects lose their colour. Fabric turns invisible. Then thin materials like wood disappear. The skin and eyeballs of people in three-dimensional space first turn translucent. Then their fatty tissue disappears, then muscles, and finally their skeleton. Further displacement causes stone to disappear, then steel. By the time steel is invisible, the suit is so distant from ordinary matter that the wearer is floating in low-gravity space. 2666 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Using telepathy commands, the eyepiece “lenses” can be extradimensionallypushed in different directions for better/different views. Some suits have headbands that extradimensionally offset the person’s head, expanding the extradimensional range of the eyepieces. Their head becomes more visible as it is pushed towards ordinary three-dimensional space.
WALKING The soles of the suit (as well as the suit’s knee-pads, elbow-pads, and butt-pads) are thicker and denser. Soles are extradimensionally offset towards ordinary threedimensional space, letting the wearer walk on the floor/ground. Meanwhile, their body is extradimensionally offset away from normal three-dimensional space, and doesn’t interact with normal matter. The further the suit’s soles are away from normal three-dimensional space, the more-slippery and more-spongy the floor feels. (Standing in one spot for too long will “melt” the floor and turn it slippery and spongy.) To walk through walls, the wearer first telepaths to the suit, and has it push itself away from ordinary three-dimensional space. To the wearer, the walls disappear. They would begin to float, except the soles of their shoes are extradimensionallyoffset and still touching the ground in ordinary three-dimensional space. As the person slowly walks through the walls, their shoes temporarily glide away from ordinary three-dimensional space so they can also pass through the wall. Walking through metal is uncomfortable, and must be done very slowly. Flying is possible when the suit is extradimensionally-offset. Some suits fly very rapidly.
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November 12, 2011
LARGER ON THE INSIDE Some suits are larger on the inside than the outside. The suits will inflate on request, letting the wearer pull their arms, legs, and head out of the expanded suitskin. Such suits also include a pack where food and water can be stored, accessible from near the person’s stomach.
COMBAT SUITS Combat suits, such as blue suits, have a few extra features:
Rapid body movement is possible.
Combat suits can interact with ordinary three-dimensional matter much more easily that civilian suits.
More energy is available in the suit for extradimensional-offsets and flying.
Weapons are built in.
Telepathic interference is common and expected. Suits are trained to recognize their owner’s telepathic profile, but telepathic commands can still be blocked and/or hacked. Emergency controls, such as mouth, finger, and tail controls are available.
Rapid extradimensional shifting is possible.
Armour and automatic defences are provided.
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November 12, 2011 The heads-up display is combat-oriented.
Extradimensional shifts can be in directions not typically supported by civilian encounter suits.
Three combat-oriented assistant-bots are included in the box.
“Bullet-time” time-bending is sometimes included. Time-bending is very uncomfortable, but useful for combat. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullet_time)
“Rotation” is possible, not just extradimensional shifts.
Extradimensional combat is really-really very super-freaky. Half of the time, suit combatants are operating near ordinary three-dimensional space. They can see denser materials, like steel. (Sometimes they see other metals better, depending on which direction they’re offset.) Combatants can walk, but notquite run. They have gravity. The other half-the-time, the wearer is pushed so far out of ordinary threedimensional space that they can’t see anything. They just have vague telemetry telling them that if they “materialize” now they will be bisected by a floor. Some thoughts are detectable by enemies. All communications are detectable. Any expenditure of energy is detectable. The delta of the expenditure of energy is more detectable. A lot of time is spent waiting and watching. Eyepieces (and assistant bots) can extradimensionally shift, enabling the wearer to see enemies (and ordinary three-dimensional space). Doing so allows enemies to detect and see the eyepieces (and assistant bots) though. Meanwhile, enemies are watching, and perhaps extradimensionally shifting. As a combatant, you might just see their eyepieces flicker into your extradimensional2669 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 plane for a second. Or you might briefly see their gun milliseconds before they shoot you. Or, you might catch a glimmer of their assistant-bot. Meanwhile, hyperdimensional light-bots are hyper-zooming about EVERYWHERE. As soon as your enemy knows they’re spotted, they extradimensionally shift in one of twenty completely-different directions, most of which are no-longer visible to you. Following them is incredibly challenging.
TAKING OFF THE SUIT To get out of a suit, the wearer needs to “position” themselves close to ordinary three-dimensional space. They then telepath to the suit that they want to decompress/exit. The process takes a few minutes. Suits attached to the person’s spine just fade away as the person walks. People wearing suits that need to be removed and placed in a chiller box, must first materialize so the neck-seam can be touched and pulled apart. Because their limbs are extradimensionally-offset from the rest of their body, wearers cannot touch their body when they’re in a powered suit.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The Rabbit-evolved people didn’t attack Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) Kamikazestyle. They fired small missiles into Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) cities from thousands of fighter-spaceplanes, rather than using a few large battleships. The pilots attacked with the expectation of being killed; many died. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kamikaze) Cat-evolved television-news doesn’t show the faces of dead people because the images produce far-too-much furor amongst Cat-evolved people. A few pages ago, I mentioned that Rabbit-television-news was showing faces, and then noted that Cat-television-news does not. Unfortunately, some readers incorrectly concluded that the Cat-evolved people disagree with the Rabbitevolved people’s decisions to show the faces of dead children; they do not.
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November 12, 2011
FASHION (PART 6) CARP(?)-EVOLVED
They have fur on their arms, legs, and back. Breathing holes are on the lower-neck, near the back.
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November 12, 2011
ELAPIDAE IN SPHERE-CHAIR
Elapidae are evolved from the clownfish and coral-snake line. They are NOT related to cobras and taipans. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elapidae, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clownfish, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coral_snake, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cobra, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taipan)
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Gecko sludge: (A variant of Gecko Juice, described earlier.)
Pureed semi-fermented pawpaw
Pureed mango
Pureed cantaloupe
No strawberries
Gecko-sludge should never be consumed by mammaloids, only Geckos and Goannas.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (8/4/2011) MAP THE LOCAL HOMINID-EMPIRE “NUB”
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional
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P
Q
R
November 12, 2011
THE HOMINOID EMPIRE
A deeply random thought Low-technology “naked” living – Some Deer-evolved societies provide their citizens free sleep-anywhere “capsule” hotel-rooms, free clean-clothing swaps, and a free locker to store their few possessions. After work or an evening out, they simply claim a room at the closest “capsule hotel”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capsule_hotel)
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November 12, 2011
THE FIRST WAR (INVADING THE TAUROSPHERE) ATTACKS ON THE GREYILOIDS The Milky Way Galaxy hosts (approximately) three Greyiloid solar-systems, all within a few-thousand parsecs of Earth-Sol. Three Greyiloid planets have been attacked by Hominoids:
One planet has had many of its cities nuked.
Another is occupied by Hominid troops.
A third has experienced a series of attacks: 1.
An attempt was made to pull the planet into the sun; that was stopped.
2.
A “rock-breaker” was brought in to slice-off chunks of the planet and pull it apart. That attack was stopped. (See below for a description of a rock-breaker.)
3.
The planet was then irradiated by Hominoids. (Greyiloids from the planet will never be able to visit Los-Angeles Airport; their “glow” will set-off all radiation-detectors within a one-kilometre radius.)
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November 12, 2011 4. Hominid military landed and blew-up some cities. On that planet, Greyiloid cities resemble small, dusty “wild-west” towns constructed of one-story adobe-like buildings. Text-signs are outlawed, but LED-blue icon-signs, and LED-blue door/window/building outlines, are allowed. (Radioactive) smoking is not permitted inside. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_(genre), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_West)
The attacks on the Greyiloids in the Milky Way Galaxy are connected to the third war (high-technology wipe fleet), the fourth war (time war), and the fifth war (overall Hominoid-assault).
Killing-off the Greyiloids here, as mentioned above, more-easily allows the Hominids to control this section of the Milky Way, including Earth-Sol.
The attacks are training exercises for the Hominoid military, in preparation for a wipe-fleet attack on the Dark-blue Greyiloids a tauro-taurosphere away.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Wallaby-evolved Risotto balls:
Risotto, cooked with vegetable stock, mixed with: o o o o o
Chopped nuts, such as walnuts Diced al-dente-cooked (sticky) sweet-potato Diced al-dente-cooked carrots Al-dente-cooked corn-kernels Raisins or dates
Tear off a large leaf of lettuce or cabbage, fill it with the risotto mix, and bundle it into a ball.
“OUR LAND” GALAXY “Our Land” is a large galaxy that is “underneath” us. Time flows at 1.5-times to 3times our time. (Some other galaxies, “above” us, experience time flowing at 2/3 our time.) Historically, the Hominids from Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) have used “Our Land” for farming... because it is largely unpopulated (as far as they know), and time (and crops) grow 2-times as quickly.
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November 12, 2011 “Our Land” is now a military centre:
25 – 50 trillion Hominids now live in the galaxy. There may be more.
Many are farmers.
Many are botters, people who control the bots. They can bot 2-times as quickly in “Our Land” as in other galaxies, controlling bots up-to severalgalaxies away.
Gulags have been constructed. Non-Hominoid people can be kept in prison for 3-times as long. Food to feed them is cheaper than in other galaxies, where food is scarce.
Trainee military-personnel are stationed in the galaxy because they can train 2-times as quickly.
“Our Land” is very-close to 10-ish other galaxies, including the Milky Way. Hominid militaries can rapidly deploy billions of troops from “Our Land” into neighbouring galaxies.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Cat-evolved children’s television-shows usually feature sleek-cats (who are very thin) wearing fur-suits. The stereotypical characters are Tabby-cat (who is typically bubbly), Tiger (typically grumpy), Leopard (typically outgoing), and Lion (typically cautious). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fursuit, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fimbles, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bear_in_the_Big_Blue_House) Some Cat-evolved children’s fur-suit actors have been put on the Hominoid assassination-list. Apparently, the Hominoid-military think that children will notice if their favorite fur-suit actor is killed. Tabby-cat was recently assassinated during a spaceplane trip to a live-show. None of the children noticed that she was replaced though.
LOTS OF STARS (K’ TICK TUCK) Attacks against the Hominoids in Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) continue. Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) Hominid radio-news incorrectly-announced that they were attacked by Saurians from the Andromeda galaxy. The Hominoids weren’t. Recall/reread the Rabbit-evolved attacks from a few months ago. Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) Hominids are sending their military to the Andromeda Galaxy, often via the Milky Way. Some of the reason for the attack on the Andromeda Galaxy seems to be contractual. The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) have a contract dividing the Milky Way (and Earth-Sol) amongst several parties. The Six Kingdoms gets the Andromeda Galaxy. One (or more) other parties controls Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck). 2681 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The Six Kingdoms has failed to maintain control of the Andromeda Galaxy. If Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) militarily-takes the Andromeda Galaxy, they have a contractual “win”, which pushes The Six Kingdoms further into contractual “failure”. Such “failure” benefits Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck). A few days ago, the Hominid capital-planet, a smallish ex-goliath, was identified and attacked.
A deeply random thought Ligers are two-legged white tigers (with brown-grey stripes). They have a somewhat-opposable thumb AND pinkie.
http://sugarpoultry.deviantart.com/art/Her-Majesty190829135?q=boost%3Apopular%20in%3Aanthro%20white%20tiger&qo=163
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November 12, 2011
DEATH OF THE EMPEROR? The Emperor (from K-2) was assassinated by nukes, along with most of the planet he was on. He might not have been the Emperor. The Emperor has/had many bodydouble clones. The non-Hominoid military/leadership is fairly-certain that he was the Emperor. Soon afterwards, his second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth in-succession were also assassinated. Assassinating the Emperor was difficult; he was extremely well protected. The second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth in-succession were much easier to get to. The question arose: Why did the Hominoid capital (located at K-2 on the map) send their Emperor to our war-enflamed taurosphere, were he was put in danger? One hypothesis: He might have been dethroned like Napoleon, and given Corsica (The Six Kingdoms) to rule. The non-Hominoids don’t know. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napolean, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corsica)
Why this hypothesis:
The Emperor seems to have been gifted 10,000-ish Four-legged Horsepeople as a golden-parachute. To understand why this is odd, see the discussion below about the Four-legged Horse people. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_parachute)
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November 12, 2011 20-ish years ago, the Emperor (and others) proposed a multiracial-zone in this taurosphere. This proposal may not-have have been appreciated by higher-tier Hominoid-governments. A hypothesized power-chart for the proposal follows:
A randomly deep thought How to build the-pyramids-of-Giza on a budget: Cut stones only for the outer two or three courses. Fill the rest of the pyramids with sand. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyramids_of_Giza)
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November 12, 2011
THE “CHICAGO” HYPOTHESIS From 1910 to 1950, someplace-near-Chicago was the criminal capital-city of The United States of America. It was a counterpart “capital” to Washington D. C. Organized crime didn’t actually use Chicago, because Chicago was too seedy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organized_crime_in_Chicago) Some characteristics of organized-crime capital-cities:
Organized-crime capitals must be close-enough to their political-capital so that politicians and civil-servants can be met with.
Organized-crime capitals must be far-enough away from their politicalcapital so that the politicians (and media) don’t notice the organized-crime taking place.
If organized-crime capitals are on the opposite side of the nation, the organized-crime capital often turns respectable, civil-war ensues, and the nation divides into two.
Organized-crime capitals need to be near profitable organized-crime... such as trade-routes, and illegal activities (narcotics, illegal mining, weaponsmanufacturing, and slavery).
Organized-crime capitals lean against the boundaries of other nations, both to encourage illegal-trade, and as a means of escaping law-enforcement. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rum-running) Organized-crime outposts in the adjacent-nations also help.
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November 12, 2011 Organized-crime capitals are privately financed... which often means they purchase a run-down someplace cheaply, and fix it up. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Las_Vegas#1947.E2.80.931963:_p ostwar_boom_and_organized_crime)
OUR problem: 1.
Our taurosphere meets these criteria.
2.
Many Hominoid crime-families seem to be interested in our taurosphere.
Having our taurosphere turned into a Hominoid organized-crime capital is only slightly more-appealing than having Constantinople built here. (See above for the Constantinople hypothesis.)
A deeply random thought When Ant-evolved children find bits of semi-edible food on-the-ground outside, or in the trash, they feed it to their younger siblings.
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November 12, 2011
THE SECOND WAR (INVADING THE CAT-EVOLVED ZONE) RETALIATION The Six Kingdoms retaliated for attacks on their planets, particularly for the Emperor’s assassination. They used bomb-laden automatically-piloted personal-spaceplanes, yachts, and small-freighters as their missiles. Unfortunately for the Alotians, the craft are Alotian-built. Consequently, Alotian-built spaceplanes and transports are being attacked because they might be Hominoid missiles. Even though the Six Kingdoms was mostly-attacked by NON-Saurians, some of the stealthier and more-far-reaching retaliation-missiles were automatically-fired into the Saurian (and others) taurosphere.
A deeply random thought Another hint about writing π in terms of e: What is the square-root of π? Another hint: π might not be scalar. It might be a quaternion.
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November 12, 2011
THE THIRD WAR (HIGH-TECHNOLOGY WIPE-FLEET) WAR-BUBBLE BENEATH THE WALLABY, HULU, AND OT HERS ZONE A “war bubble” appeared beneath the Wallaby, Hulu, and others zone, located at J-9 in the map. The Hominoid fleet includes high-technology wipe-fleet ships heading up into the multiracial zone. Some of the Hominoid vessels are pulling Star Destructors (moon-sized bombs) at the speed of 8-ish galaxies-per-day. Several of the travelling Star Destructors were discovered by non-Hominoids. The Hominoids hauled their Star Destructors to the nearest semi-target planets, and detonated them nearby. The very-very-very-large not-quite-a-nuke explosion obliterates the side of the planet facing the detonation. The other side experiences a very-large Z-wave earthquake when the shockwave propels the planet 10-plus kilometres in seconds. This policy is endemic: If a wipe-fleet-ship is discovered travelling through a solarsystem, the Hominoids’ policy is to attack the solar-system that discovered the ship. High-technology wipe-fleet ships are also positioning themselves above the multiracial zone. They are currently descending into the multiracial zone. Over the last month, the war-bubble has enlarged considerably. It now volumetrically-spans 10-100 tauro-taurospheres. Non-Hominoid people fleeing from J-5 (on the map) to the border (including our taurosphere) are often shot-down as they pass through the blitzkrieg war-bubble. Rather than the usual in-flight movies and “This is your location” screensaver, passengers are show live-video of the space-combat... which is a tad unnerving. Passengers cannot do much besides watch the video feeds, since they are confined to quarters for “airlock” safety-reasons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blitzkrieg) 2688 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 One (intentional?) side-effect of the war-bubble destroying refugee-ships is that wealthy non-Hominoids fleeing from J-5 head in the opposite direction, towards N5. N-5 is supposedly safe to travel to, and not at war. Our tauro-taurosphere is warravaged, and it’s dangerous to get here. Where would you go? The answer funnels the wealthy people (intelligence and knowledge are correlated to wealth) into N-5, where they could later be invaded by Hominoids, taken hostage, enslaved, and/or massacred.
A deeply random thought Gaussians do not accurately represent probability-distributions. Probability-distributions are better-modeled by computationally flipping-andsumming a near-infinite number of coins labeled +1 and -1. Simulating threesided coins, with an extra 0-side, is computationally-faster. Reverse-engineer an explicit function from the statistical model. Hint: sin() modulated by another function might work better than a Gaussian. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaussian_distribution, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_deviation) Oh yes: On most planets, one (full) standard-deviation is about twice-as-much as an Earth-Sol standard-deviation. It would be exactly twice-as-much if EarthSol mathematicians weren’t deriving Gaussians from e.
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November 12, 2011
MORE HIGH-TECHNOLOGY WIPE-FLEET SHIPS More high-technology wipe-fleet ships have been found in The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck), as well as throughout the region.
Aussie gunship – Not a high-technology wipe-fleet ship, these gun-laden ellipsoidal ships can target and shoot down hundreds of small spaceplanes at once.
Impressionist beam – Not from a wipe-fleet ship, this 500-m-wide beam causes brick-buildings to fail as it passes over a city. People hit by the beam see the world go greyish, kind-of impressionist-looking, and everything appears to fall up... and then they die. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impressionism)
Layer crawler/spider – Layer-crawlers are vehicles that walk across a planet’s “layers”. Their long crab-like legs span up to 10-kilometres.
Rock breaker – Rock-breakers are large vessels that slowly cut a “line” into a planet, using a physics-changing beam. Missiles are fired along the beam into the line, slowly cutting into the planet. After several weeks, a section of the planet can be pulled out by Spheres. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_jet_cutter)
Star Destructors – “Star Destructors” are moon-sized “bombs” designed to fling star-stuff towards planets. They come with a free “Star-Destructor hauler” that can haul the Star Destructor at the rate of 8-galaxies per-day.
Transformers – These geometrical wipe-fleet ships look innocent when notcombined. When several of them connected together, they become extremely deadly.
The White Wall – People on the ground see a 2-km-high wall of white approaching them. A wide-beam from the wipe-ship changes physics so that
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November 12, 2011 hydrogen-peroxide is easily formed from the atmosphere. The hydrogenperoxide is not dangerous, and is merely a side-effect. Many people hit by the beam die in minutes as the altered physics-laws corrupt their body and soul biologies. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydrogen_peroxide)
White slabs – These wipe-ships look like tall, white, narrow buildings, with no windows. They are parked in vacant city blocks, and camouflaged to look like buildings. (They are much-more stylish than the flying Vogon-buildings from the movie, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy_(fil m) )
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought
http://www.think-aboutit.com/images/001-M.jpg
I incorrectly-labeled this illustration earlier in the document. These people are evolved from Iguanodons. They don’t have scales, or breasts, or a Hominoid-like collar-bone. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iguanodon)
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November 12, 2011
THE FIFTH WAR (THE LARGER HOMINOID-WAR) OCCUPATION OF NON-HOMINID ZONES Many non-Hominoid zones (or “bubbles”) exist within and throughout the Hominoid Empire. Many non-Hominoid zones are in the process of being occupied, invaded, or wiped-clean. Some of the closer non-Hominoid zones that are being occupied/invaded are:
An aquatic zone (L-4 on the map) was occupied 10-20 years ago. NonHominoid residents were warned of the impending-occupation ahead-oftime, and given the opportunity to leave. Transported on low-tech “slowtime” ships, some are just arriving now. To the passengers, their voyage lasted half-a-year to a year.
5-10 years ago, the Hominoids ran a “wall” through G-5. See below for a description of a “wall”.
The Hominoids swarmed into I-4 over the last few years, in an approach similar to their invasion of our taurosphere.
The non-Hominoids in J-5 have been warned by the neighbouring Hominoids to leave. They are given the choice of fleeing east to a “sunny and tropical” peaceful zone, N-6, or south to a war-ravaged zone (including our tauro-taurosphere). The wealthy (and genetically more-intelligent people) tend to go east... but it may be a trap.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Aussies are approximately 0.75 full-standard-deviations less-nasty as slaveowners than Hominids. (1.6 of our standard-deviations.) The Aussie slavery-situation is similar to the 1850’s pre-Civil-War United States of America, with half of the states opposing slavery, and most of the people in slave-states also against slavery. Many Aussies purchase slaves and set them free in non-Hominoid zones. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Civil_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_deviation) Hominoid-slaves are illegal, for both the Aussies and Hominids. Non-Hominoid slaves are legal. Less-racist Hominids that die are having their souls placed in “animal” people bodies. Recently, Hominids (not Aussies) have begun purchasing ex-Hominids whose souls are placed into “animal” people bodies. Ex-Hominids in “animal” people bodies are legal slaves. They are also moreintelligent than “animal” people slaves from pre-industrialized societies, “know what needs to be done”, and aren’t nearly as rebellious as “pure-bred” “animal” people.
THE WALL Walls are military formations that are incredibly scary. They’re like a wall-of-fire sweeping through a drought-stricken pine-forest. All of the forest-life flees before the wall. Fire-fighters cannot easily put out the inferno; they merely monitor the fireline as it marches forward. The fire-wall only stops when it reaches a fuel-barrier. The Hominoids have formed a wall 5 tauro-taurospheres long, and 1-2 taurotaurospheres high. Its current location is K-7 and L-8. People are fleeing from nonHominoid zone at K-7, many into our tauro-taurosphere. 2694 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A wall is composed of a sequence of specialized spaceplanes and forces/personnel: 1.
Decades before the wall marches, Hominoid-colonies are planted in the wall’s expected path to ensure an adequate fuel-load.
2.
The wall-ships are secretly flown into position. They quickly organize into the “wall” formation.
The wall begins marching: 1.
Hominoids position menacing spaceplanes over non-Hominoid planets, and warn the residents to flee, sometimes using large detonations as exclamation-points. These spaceplanes advance beyond the warned-planets, followed by...
2.
An infinite number of specially-designed battleships follow. They soften-up the planets (and military defences, and cities) for their fighter-spaceplanes. These battleships advance, followed by...
3.
Fighter-spaceplanes arrive, and attack smaller targets.
4.
Infantry drop-ships and infantry arrive, potentially landing 100-million infantry on a planet over two-weeks.
5.
Colonists follow the infantry.
6.
Supply-line infrastructure is installed so the wall can be fed from behind.
7.
Non-Hominoids left on the planet are (a) first marginalized, then (b) placed into ghettos, then (c) moved to concentration camps, then (d) enslaved, and then (e) eaten if they’re tasty. (The Nazis only got up to (c).) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marginalization,
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November 12, 2011 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghetto, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_concentration_camps, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery, http://www.google.com/search?q=venison+recipes) 8.
Civilian-infrastructure follows, such as law enforcements, schools, and manufacturing.
The wall is heading towards us. (Location I-9.) It’ll be here in 5 – 10 years. But it might head in other directions...
A deeply random thought The hand-sized nukes mentioned in my Raccoon story, “I lose more little brothers, Volume 3”, were NOT 10,000 “tons”. They were 100-1000 “tons” of explosives, equivalent to 20-200 tons of TnT. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tons_of_TNT) Explosives detonated on the ground are about half as effective as those detonated at an optimal-height above target-buildings. The radius of the detonation is proportional to the cube-root of the tonnage. A 200-ton explosion has a radius 5.84 times as large as a 1-ton explosion… kind of. The 2.5th root might be more-accurate.
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November 12, 2011
THE WALL AND HOMINOID POLITICS The wall is (currently) heading this way (location I-9), and has been doing-so for half a year. At this point in time, the wall’s generals could alter its direction...
The generals could reverse the wall’s direction and direct it into N-6, a less-protected non-Hominoid zone. That zone has no Hominoid-colony kindling though.
The wall might veer south of us and march into the Gecko and Chameleon nations, towards location I-11. Again, there are no Hominoid-colonies to act as kindling.
The wall might run through our tauro-taurosphere, towards location I-9.
The wall might veer just north of our tauro-taurosphere, towards location I-7. If that happens, the Hominoids taking over this tauro-taurosphere might well-have participated in a “nice to achieve, but not necessary” military goal, like in the movie, A Bridge Too Far. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Bridge_Too_Far_(film))
The wall might travel above us, and into Alotian space.
It might travel below us.
The Hominoids from I-to-K 6-9 desperately need the wall. If the wall travels through our tauro-taurosphere then the Six Kingdoms might survive. If the wall veers justnorth of here, then their survival is less-likely.
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November 12, 2011 If the wall heads in the opposite direction, towards N-6, then all of the HominoidZones in I-to-K 6-9 might be obliterated by the furious non-Hominoids. If you were a leader of a Hominoid zone in I-to-K 6-9, then you’d be very-very polite and obsequious to the wall’s generals. Conversely, a few Aussie-zones in the area view the wall with trepidation. The wall is Hominid-controlled. The Aussies might lose control of their planets as the wall passes through Aussie territory.
THE HOMINOID WALL ATTACKING THE CARP-EVOLVED PEOPLE A Hominoid wall ran through the Carp-evolved zone 5 – 10 years ago, at location G4. The wall stopped after 5-ish years. It may have been a practice-run for this wall. The Carp-evolved people fled, some of them to our tauro-taurosphere. Their slowtime transports are just-arriving now. An Elapidae zone (G-5) that traded with the Carp-evolved zone is threatened by the nearby Hominoid-zone. Due to the threat, as well as a depressed economy resulting from lack-of-trade with the Carp-evolved zone, many invited Elapidae are migrating here.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOIDS ATTACKING GECKO AND CHAMELEON NATIONS Hominoid battle-fleets are bombing (missile-ing) the Gecko and Chameleon nations, around location I-10. Hominoid colonists and infantry have not yet been deployed. A wall may be forming underneath the Geckos, and preparing to go “up”. (Near location J-10) The Geckos and Chameleons are manufacturing and lend-leasing(?) weaponry and spaceplanes for the defence of our tauro-taurosphere (and non-Hominoid space to the north-and-west). If their nations are sufficiently-harassed, or their manufacturing-capacity is destroyed, they won’t be able to help the non-Hominoids as much. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lend-lease)
REPTILOID WALL The reptiloids might be preparing a wall to take-over (from the Hominoid’s point-ofview) the area around I-7, including our tauro-taurosphere. The non-Hominoids in the area would provide anti-Hominoid dry-kindling for the wall, as it passes through. The wall (if it will exist) might pass through our taurosphere in the next few years.
A deeply random thought Ancylotherium are grey, without fur. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancylotherium, http://www.abc.net.au/beasts/evidence/prog4/page4.htm)
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November 12, 2011
THE CONSTANTINOPLE HYPOTHESIS If the Hominoid Empire is building/organizing a Constantinople, it has a guessinggame problem. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantinople) If non-Hominoids think that a Constantinople is being formed, then (simply put) ALL of the Empire’s neighbours will invade the Empire’s periphery to prevent a Constantinople from forming near them. No-one wants a Constantinople near them, especially from an expansionist unfriendly neighbour, whose next expansion might be into their territory. Consequently, the sooner that Constantinople’s location is announced and proven, the less-twitchy the Empire’s neighbours will be... but as soon as Constantinople is announced and proven, it will be invaded and sacked... ...unless Constantinople is located someplace near Rome... in which case the move wouldn’t accomplish much. Another approach is to build several Constantinoples and rapidly-and-randomly flicker the government from one-to-another, eventually settling the government into one of the potential Constantinoples... in which case, all of the potential Constantinoples might be invaded-and-sacked. Or, the Hominoids and another race could set up a joint-Constantinople. The nonHominoid response is less-certain.
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November 12, 2011
FOUR-LEGGED HORSES Many Horse-evolved people have both two-legged bodies, and four-legged bodies. Once every-week, they leave their two-legged bodies in their spaceplanes, and go for a four-legged run on an unpopulated planet. When four-legged, and on the ground, they are especially-vulnerable to being taken hostage/prisoner. A telepathyjamming box, a few Hominoid men, some rope, and a halter do the trick. Horse-evolved people are not well-liked by the Hominoids because they often act as “listeners”. They do signals-spying and some remote-camera spying. Once-in-awhile, they assassinate. Their standard government-provided spaceplane is very-stealthy and very-very fast, with few armaments. Their spaceplanes are specialized for a region of space. Physicsvariations (and computer-programming) prevent their spaceplanes from travelling more than 25-100 tauro-taurospheres away from their “centre”. The high-technology wipe-fleet ships have excellent “radar”. The ships have been turned-on over the last few years, and their “radar” has been used to track the Horse spaceplanes. With the impending war, the Hominoids decided to capture ALL of the Horse “listeners”. When captured four-legged on the ground, the Horse-people are put into corrals and/or stalls on small farms. Thousands are loaded into large livestock-transports and shipped to holding-planets. Their bodies are not killed, because if their bodies die, their souls are released and can then be put into newly-synthesized Horse bodies. They then resume “listening”.
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November 12, 2011 The reasons for the Four-legged Horses’ capture are:
Retribution.
Prevent them from spying on war activities, as well as preventing them from assassinating leaders.
Hostages.
Forced-breeding, for the purposes of humiliation, making more of them, and hand-raising their children.
They, or their children, can be eaten. There is a distinct lack of cattle for 20 tauro-taurospheres around, because the cattle have either been eaten by the Hominoid surge, or imported “inland”.
In the event of total technological-collapse, Four-legged Horses act as onehorse-power tractors.
Four-legged Horses are being traded around, distributed, and forcefullybred with bubble-like eagerness. Two-legged “animal” people are also affected by the slavery-bubble. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tulip_bubble)
Children of Four-legged Horse-people can be used to create a “look-alike” race, in an approach similar to creating a “war-bred” race. “Look-alike” races are snuck into an enemy’s society to disjoin the society.
If the Hominoids have captured any of the Horse-people’s super-fast spaceplanes, and are unable to reverse-engineer them, the Hominoid-raised Horse-children might be able to fly the spaceplanes for the Hominoids.
Horses kept on parked flying-planets (which have plenty of grass), act as Human-shields, deterring the flying planets from being flung into the
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November 12, 2011 mainland-planets they’re orbiting-around. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_shield)
An interesting Hominoid political-note: The-most-primitive societies do not have trade. The next society-complexity-level trades objects, like pieces of flint. More-complex societies trade livestock, where the wealthiest-man in the village is proud to own 54 cows. Next is land-ownership, followed by hard currency, then business-ownership, then corporations, then electronic currency. Hominoid hard-currency (easy to counterfeit) and electronic-currency (easier to counterfeit) are now mostly-worthless in our tauro-taurosphere. The distant Hominoid government may be sending the revolutionaries a message by shipping Four-legged Horses to The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck), telling them, “You are now a primitive society whose wealth is measured in heads of livestock.”
The loyalty of wealthy Hominoid-families can be tested. They’re given several Horse-people to “watch”. Those Hominoids that respect the humanrights of the Horse-people are not trusted.
The Six Kingdoms may have half-a-billion Four-legged Horse-people enslaved, or on the way. They are being transported to The Six Kingdoms in livestock-spaceplanes and 4-8km sphere-prison-ships. Non-Hominoids were letting livestock-spaceplanes transport cattle into The Six Kingdoms and other galaxies. Since the livestock-spaceplanes may now be carrying Four-legged-Horse hostages/prisoners/slaves, they are subject to destruction... which means that The Six-Kingdoms Hominoids will starve that-muchmore quickly.
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November 12, 2011 Other “listening” races, who sometimes have four-legged bodies, are also being taken hostage/prisoner/slaves in enormous numbers.
A randomly deep thought As of ten years ago, Tasmanian Tigers were still living on an island off-of Tasmania. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thylacine)
ELAPIDAE INVADING IN LAND, NEARER THE HOMINOID -CORE (?) Elapidae may be invading the interior of the Hominoid Empire. The invasion, or the rumour of invasion, would cause Hominoids to flee to the outskirts of the Empire. Logically, many Hominoids would flee/migrate to the outskirts of the Empire, such as our taurosphere.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought
http://www.godlikeproductions.com/sm/custom/gjdnctfh.jpeg
Earlier, I incorrectly-labeled this illustration. These people are evolved from someplace between a Compy and a Velociraptor. They don’t have a venom-toe, nor is their inner-toe as high-up as Compies. Their inner-toe curves inwards. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compsognathus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor)
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November 12, 2011
HIGH-TECHNOLOGY WIPE-FLEET Neutral moderator-races have given Hominoids permission to use their hightechnology wipe-fleet to attack the entire-region as a single entity. (At a guess, A-1 to R-11.) Therefore, the use of the wipe-fleet is legal. The wipe-fleet is now positioned, and active everywhere.
A randomly deep thought Krakatoa Bomb – This “bomb”, detonated in the magma of a planet, produces an enormous volume of gas. The gas eventually works its way up to a volcano, with spectacular effects. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krakatoa)
THE SIXTH WAR (THE WAR NOT INVOLVING THE HOMINOIDS) The Sixth War is a collection of wars between non-Hominoid races. The wars are/were either begun to take advantage of the chaos caused by the Hominoid war, and/or the races are using the warring Hominoids to further their own agendas.
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November 12, 2011
CHIMPANZEE-EVOLVED INVADING NON-HOMINOID (AND HOMINOID?) TERRITORY Chimpanzee-evolved people are occupying non-Hominoid space far to the west, around location D-4. The Chimpanzee-evolved people aren’t terribly-belligerent towards the non-Hominoids. People are allowed to flee towards here, as well as in the opposite direction. The Hominoids further along the invasion-path seem to be moving out, around location E-3. We don’t know if the Chimpanzee-evolved military will push into Hominoid space, or if they will just occupy the non-Hominoid space at D-4. We don’t know why the Chimpanzee-evolved nations are taking-over D-4. Other races might be pushing the Chimpanzee-evolved nations out of their space, and into the non-Hominoid space. The move may be intended to prevent the Hominoids from taking over the space (D-4) first. And/or, the Chimpanzee-evolved nations might be allied with the Hominoids. Other reasons undoubtedly exist.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Tasmanian-devil meat pie:
Crust made from flour and lard (or solid vegetable-shortening)
Filling:
Mixed red-muscle meat, from a few of the following: deer, elk, cow, goat, and/or sheep
Diced heart
Diced brain; not too much
No liver, ever
Ground bone-meal as a gravy thickener. Packets of artificial gravy also work.
Finely-diced carrots and peas can be hidden in the filling
SIMIANS MAY BE TAKING-OVER TO THE EAST Simians are moving into R-2. They are providing transport for evacuees, and plenty of warning for people to flee, either north, or to N-6.
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November 12, 2011
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought These are Google satellite-images of rectangular-clouds in Canada, all at the same scale. Same-sized rectangular-clouds are a tad improbable. I would have expected them to be square clouds formed by cube-spaceplanes. Since the clouds are rectangular, they might be formed by stretched-hexagon cargo-vessels, as illustrated earlier.
Size A: About 1.5 km x 1 km
Size B: About 1.8 km x 1.5 km Several spaceports (also known as: large enclosed-sheds/warehouses) might not be far-away (50-100 km). Shuttles from the cargo-vessels would land inside the sheds, where passengers would disembark, and food-for-export would be loaded in. An important safety-tip: STAY AWAY FROM THEIR SHEDS!
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November 12, 2011
Full satellite-images from http://Maps.Google.com.au:
http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=ditch+lake, +canada&aq=&sll=39.639538,94.833984&sspn=31.190232,86.220703&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Ditch+Lake&ll=50.53 1762,-99.874992&spn=0.106498,0.3368&t=h&z=12
http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Gadsby+La ke,+Alberta,+Canada&aq=2&sll=50.733132,111.906736&sspn=0.006628,0.02105&g=Highway+50,+Duchess,+Alberta,+Canada&i e=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Gadsby+Lake&ll=50.184153,98.583755&spn=0.107281,0.3368&t=h&z=12
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November 12, 2011
http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Cypress+Hi lls+Interprovincial+Park&aq=&sll=25.335448,135.745076&sspn=38.199664,86.220703&ie=UTF8&hq=Cypress+Hills+Int erprovincial+Park&hnear=&radius=15000&ll=49.80099,110.277672&spn=0.108139,0.3368&t=h&z=12
http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Bengough +Canada&aq=&sll=43.979773,79.592869&sspn=0.03014,0.0842&g=Happy+Valley+near+Canada&ie=UTF8&hq=&hn ear=Bengough,+Division+No.+2,+Saskatchewan,+Canada&ll=49.422364,105.066376&spn=0.108982,0.3368&t=h&z=12
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOID ALLIES MAY BE INVADING THE GECK O AND CHAMELEON NATIONS Allies(?) of the Hominoids may be attacking/invading the Gecko and Chameleon nations, around location F-12. The Gecko and Chameleon nations are providing some of the weaponry and spaceplanes used to defend non-Hominoid-space in the region. If the nations are sufficiently harassed, they won’t be able to help as much. The allies(?) of the Hominoids that are attacking/invading the Gecko and Chameleon nations may only be “testing the water”. The attacking/invading allies(?) think VERY strategically, and their ultimate policy is too-difficult to discern at this point. They might not be war-allies of the Hominoids either; it’s too early to tell.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Earth/Hominid sculptures are almost exclusively constructed from one homogenous material: stone, metal, plastic, ceramics, or wood. They are simplistically portrayed as solid volumes. Some sculpture ideas:
Use mixed-materials, such as part-ceramic, and part-metal.
Transparent colored-resins are particularly fun to play with. The resins can have smaller objects embedded within, such as small plasticspiders.
Rather than sculpting a solid shape, such as a person’s body, build a mesh/scaffolding/framework/outline around the sculpted shape, and leave the sculpted shape as a void, or partially-occupied by resins.
Use the void interiors of the shape to apply additional messages, like in Aboriginal X-ray art. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Ray_Style)
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November 12, 2011
WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE A FOUR-LEGGED HORSE PRACTICALITIES
Dried hay tastes like diet puffed-rice-cakes does to us. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puffed_rice_cakes) Lucerne is okay for awhile, but it tastes better with raisins. It tastes even better with dried figs... but dried figs taste-better without the lucerne. Oats taste best with brown sugar. When eating oats, remember to eat some lucerne and carrots/apples AFTER the oats, and before your drink, or your water will be covered with oat-scum. Apples, carrots, nuts, and other vegetables and fruits, are excellent. An occasional ham-sandwich is also appreciated... with mustard, if you please.
Fresh grass in paddocks is essential. Lucerne is an inadequate substitute; the reason lucerne stays green so-long is because of toxins not present in the grass. Proper paddock management requires that horses eat the lousy-tasting grass first so that it doesn’t go to seed. After a few years, the paddock will flourish with good-tasting grass. Paddocks need to be half-filled with SHADE-trees for comfort. Shade-trees also encourage different grasses to grow underneath.
Horses enjoy standing in their paddock and watching the world go by, with 300-degree field-of-vision. Their mental-concentration is distributed everywhere. Unlike Hominoids, Horses don’t like mentally-focusing on a visual-spot, or a single sound, or even a single thought.
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November 12, 2011
Stalls are very boring.
Horseback rides should be no longer two-hours without water, preferably only one hour.
Children are the worst horseback-riders; they’re always tugging at the reigns, which pull meaninglessly at the bits. (By the way, we prefer chest pressure-control to bits. Chest-pressure-control hasn’t yet been invented on Earth-Sol though.) Worse than the children, are nervous parents walking beside us as their children ride. We also hate idiots who try to run us into the fence, and then have us turn perpendicular to the fence at the last moment. We don’t like to run unless we want to run. It takes a few minutes to prepare for a gallop. If we don’t prepare our cardiovascular system, we nearly faint.
Horseshoes itch. We don’t like them. They’re generally not necessary.
Hominoid women complain about their unborn babies kicking in the womb. They should be thankful their unborn children don’t have hooves!
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Gecko super-powers: (From Gecko children’s-shows.)
A red cape covering most of the child’s tail is absolutely necessary, or the child feels naked. Leotards and other pants are socially unnecessary for children when a cape is worn.
Bending your wrists vertically-up sends out either a sonic boom, or a heat ray.
Holding your arms in front of you, and twinkling your fingers, turns you invisible.
In other Gecko cultures, holding your arms out and twinkling your fingers initiates super-flight.
Kneeling and scrunching-down shrinks you to the size of a 2-cm ant.
GULLIVER’S TRAVELS Before reading this section, please read the fourth part in Gulliver’s Travels, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulliver%27s_Travels, about the Houyhnhnms.
The word “Houyhnhnm” means “We/us and them”. “Hou” means “we/us”. “hn” is sometimes an “and”. “Hnm” is them. The word is pronounced “hh-OO-nn-nn-ih-mm”. “hh” has a mouth-position halfway between an English “h” and a whistle-pucker, but it is NOT-quite a
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November 12, 2011 whistle. “OO” sounds like “fOOd”, but is strongly aspirated by the “hh”. The “hh-OO” phonemes are hyper-accentuated in volume. Properly spoken, there are two n’s in a row, but no-one ever annunciates them properly, so the two n’s are combined into one long “n”. “ih” is a very-short and quiet co-articulation effect. “m” is quiet and trails off in volume. (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/Houyhnhnm)
400 galactic years ago (approximately 550 of our years) there was a war here against the Hominoids, and a few other races. The Houyhnhnms are an organization of somewhat-militant Four-legged Horses, who switch between two-legged bodies and four-legged bodies. They prefer four-legged bodies. They got into a bit of trouble... er... a lot of trouble... with “management”. As a consequence of this trouble, they were assigned various shit-jobs around the universe.
One of these shit-jobs was on a planet about 15 parsecs away. It is a planet with shallow rolling-hills, wheat-like grass, and a few trees. Approximately 10-million Hominids have since moved onto that planet, some Asianlooking. 300 – 350 years ago, when Gulliver was abducted (perhaps by Alotians), the Hominids hadn’t yet moved in.
Gulliver was dropped off by someone (perhaps an Alotian) as a warning to the Houyhnhnms that Hominids would soon be occupying the planet, allowed by treaty. The Houyhnhnms believe that the aforementioned person just wanted to ditch Gulliver as soon as possible.
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November 12, 2011
http://www.1st-art-gallery.com/thumbnail/244921/1/Gulliver-AddressingThe-Houyhnhnms.jpg
The “Yahoos” were Simians, and not properly described by Gulliver. He may never have seen a monkey (Simian-ancestor) in his life. “Ya” means “back” and “hoo” is “shit”... with connotations of diarrhoea. Being Simians, and only having a 70-median IQ, they didn’t do much of anything properly, except fail-to-work and fail-to-try-to learn anything. We have since been informed that the Yahoos who lived there were transported to “Monkeyville”, where their intelligence was augmented, and they became quite civilized... except that now they’re occupied by Hominids. “Yahoo” is pronounced “yy-aa-hh-oo”, where “yy” and “aa” are more aspirated than voiced. They are both over-emphasized by volume, but their
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November 12, 2011 duration is very quick. “hh” is a quick-and-very-quiet co-articulation effect between “aa” and “oo”. “oo” is somewhat aspirated.
Gulliver explains how we were amazed by his clothing – We were amazed by Gulliver’s clothing because the typical space-faring Hominids wore pants and button-down-shirts. He was obviously from a non-disclosed planet... which as it turned out, wasn’t Earth-Sol. (We inadvertently ditched him on Earth-Sol due to a paperwork mistake; our writing is quite messy... Actually, we thought it safer for him to be on Earth-Sol.)
Jonathan Swift wrote that Gulliver said: “Gentlemen, if you be conjurers, as I have good cause to believe, you can understand my language; therefore I make bold to let your worships know that I am a poor distressed Englishman, driven by his misfortunes upon your coast; and I entreat one of you to let me ride upon his back, as if he were a real horse, to some house or village where I can be relieved. In return of which favour, I will make you a present of this knife and bracelet.” But what Gulliver really thought was, “Holy shit, whatthe-fuck is going on here?” Why he thought we wanted a knife and bracelet was beyond us. For one, they weren’t offered to us until later. And another thing, Four-legged Horses can’t hold small pen-knives, nor can they wear bracelets... except around their tails.
The “striking of each-others hooves” is a way to pass on leadership or control of the situation.
“Having travelled three miles”... it was only three-quarters of a kilometre.
Description of our house – We didn’t build the house. The Yahoos pretended to build it for about five minutes, and then wandered off. Some volunteer Simians from another planet did a good job building it for us.
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November 12, 2011 About the magician crap – Gulliver was quite dense. It took him three or four days before he gave up on the idea of a Hominid master for the house.
Three-hundred years later, the women mentioned in the story have complained that they do not like being called “nags”. They also point out that the males were not “master horses” in the least.
Gulliver mentions cows – There were no cows. There were Deer-evolved (or were they Elk-evolved?) women who occasionally sold their milk to us. Gulliver may not have seen them, because they disliked the Yahoo.
By the way: A lot of the story is incorrect.
“Hlunnh” doesn’t just mean oats. It can also mean wheat grains.
“a good quantity of oats in a sort of wooden tray. These I heated before the fire, as well as I could, and rubbed them till the husks came off, which I made a shift to winnow from the grain. I ground and beat them between two stones; then took water, and made them into a paste or cake, which I toasted at the fire and eat warm”... Gulliver did do this. He insisted on cooking his oats into an unpalatable brick.
“Here I got some straw, and covering myself with my own clothes, slept very sound.” While we may be rude to Hominids, we weren’t that rude to Gulliver. He got a guest-bed in the living-room.
“He took up all my clothes in his pastern, one piece after another, and examined them diligently; he then stroked my body very gently, and looked round me several times; after which, he said, it was plain I must be a perfect _Yahoo_;” – Actually, we were trying to figure out what planet he came from based on his clothing.
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November 12, 2011 “My master, after some expressions of great indignation, wondered “how we dared to venture upon a _Houyhnhnm’s_ back; for he was sure, that the weakest servant in his house would be able to shake off the strongest _Yahoo_” – Recall that off-planet Hominids are slavers. The Houyhnhnm statement is code for, “Do you really think that the Hominid’s slaves will not rise up?”
“I could not forbear shaking my head, and smiling a little at his ignorance.” and preceding paragraphs – Beware of conversations with “aliens” having IQs of 200 – 250.
Lawyer discussion that follows – Most races consider Hominid lawyers to be liars. Some off-planet Hominoids practice the art of “rhetoric”, which in many people’s opinion, amounts to twisting words, sentences, and documents away from their intended meaning. Us: “Your hair is black.” Hominid reply: “No it isn’t, I have a white-streak in this particular strand of hair.” Our reply: “Fair enough. Your hair is not black then.” Hominid-retort ten-minutes later to another statement: “No, my hair is definitely black.”
In most of the transcribed Houyhnhnm conversations, the meaning of the word “Yahoo” wanders between meaning the 70-IQ Simians and Hominoids, and/or both.
“Hnea” is a prefix for “bad”. “Hnea-Yahoo” is “very-bad diarrhoea”.
“By what I could discover, the _Yahoos_ appear to be the most unteachable of all animals: their capacity never reaching higher than to draw or carry
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November 12, 2011 burdens. “ – The 70-IQ Simians would often discard their burdens in the middle of nowhere, and we wouldn’t find them for YEARS.
“Yet I am of opinion, this defect arises chiefly from a perverse, restive disposition; for they are cunning, malicious, treacherous, and revengeful.” – As mentioned previously in this document, a Simian tasked with hammering in flat-head nails, will nail the flat-head nail in backwards if they’re upset with you.
“luhimuh” – This word doesn’t mean “rat”. It means “brush-tailed possum”. Brush-tailed possums don’t swim though.
“Being one day abroad with my protector the sorrel nag, and the weather exceeding hot, I entreated him to let me bathe in a river that was near.” – There was no river, just a small pond about 15m x 30m, that may have been dug by a bulldozer years before.
“In educating the youth of both sexes [of Houyhnhnm], their method is admirable, and highly deserves our imitation.” – Gulliver didn’t notice/comprehend the computer-terminals in the spare bedroom.
“The question to be debated was, “whether the _Yahoos_ [Hominids] should be exterminated from the face of the earth?”” – This issue was being debated 300 years ago, and long before that. The Houyhnhnms leaned towards “extermination” more than many.
“kill and devour their cats” – Remove the word “their” and substitute “cats” with “Cat-evolved people”, whose nations surround The Six Kingdoms. The previous phrase, “they would privately suck the teats of the _Houyhnhnms’_ cows”, has several meanings: The Hominoids grosslyunderpaid “animal” people, they enslaved them, and they used Cat-
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November 12, 2011 evolved people as sex-slaves. (The word “cow” can also mean “nonHouyhnhnm female” and “non-Houyhnhnm herbivorous-person”.)
“hhnm Yahoo” – Those [with negative-connotation] Yahoo.
“whnaholm Yahoo” – Stupid Yahoo.
“ynlhmndwihlma Yahoo” – Stupid-drunk Yahoo.
An ill-contrived house “ynholmhnmrohlnw Yahoo” – The building that falls down, built by the stupid/incompetent Simians. What do you expect from volunteers who have never built a building before? We do/did appreciate the building though.
“In his company, my first business was to go to that part of the coast where my rebellious crew had ordered me to be set on shore.” – There was no coast. The planet has no ocean, although it might have some very-large swamps. We didn’t know. Gulliver was-perhaps knocked-out, thrown into a spaceplane, and deposited someplace in north-western France... where they seemed to speak approximately the same (non-English) language as he did. He was a nice guy, really... which is why we didn’t send him back to his original planet... which was disclosed to a few-hundred years ago, and is now occupied by non-Simian Yahoo.
Meanwhile, the Houyhnhnms telling me [Mike] this stuff, have pointed out that 300 years later, I have had practically the same conversations with non-Hominoids as Gulliver had with the Houyhnhnm... except that Gulliver was quicker to learn new languages.
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November 12, 2011
A deepling random thought People in the more-urbanized section, J-5, call our taurosphere “Butt’s-end”.
HIDING-OUT FROM THE WAR WHERE WOULD YOU HIDE FROM THE WAR? Simplistically speaking, the major (500-million-plus population) “disclosed” spacefaring Hominoid-planets ALL have enormous amounts of arsenal on and in them. They are ALL likely to be destroyed or decivilized because of their arsenal stores. Intelligent/educated/paranoid/wealthy Hominoids either have enough forethought to plan for this eventuality, or they will make plans when de-civilization happens. 90% of the Hominoid population will most-likely be stuck on their planet when it is decivilized. 10% will escape using mass-transport or private spaceplanes. They will try to resettle on a planet with food, shelter, no war, and a few luxuries, such as television.
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November 12, 2011 Simplistically, fleeing Hominoids have a choice of the following types of planets: Type of planet
Pros
Cons
Recentlyinvaded nonHominoid planet, huntergatherer civilization
May not be retaken by nonHominoids for a few years
Recentlyinvaded nonHominoid planet, preindustrialized Recentlyinvaded nonHominoid planet, industrialized
Acceptable living conditions
Non-disclosed Hominoid planet, huntergatherer
Non-disclosed Hominoid planet, preindustrialized
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Second-in-line for nonHominoid infantry to land and retake
First-in-line for nonHominoid infantry to land and retake
Primitive living-conditions War-criminals cannot hide amongst the indigenous population The bombing of warcriminals is likely
Non-Hominoid infantryinvasion and bombing are unlikely
Infantry will eventually land and retake the planet Primitive living-conditions
Primitive living-conditions War-criminals cannot easily-hide amongst the indigenous population
November 12, 2011 Non-disclosed Hominoid planet, industrialized, pre-television
Non-disclosed Hominoid planet, television (Earth Sol)
Hominoid Dacha planet
Non-Hominoid infantryinvasion and bombing are unlikely Acceptable livingconditions, especially for the wealthy War-criminals can easily hide amongst the indigenous population Non-Hominoid infantryinvasion and bombings are unlikely Quality living-conditions, desired by the wealthy War-criminals can easily hide amongst the indigenous population Non-Hominoid infantryinvasion is unlikely Most Dachas are already prepared as war-refuges
Disclosed Hominoid planet
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Non-Hominoid infantryinvasion is unlikely Plenty of underground bunkers War-criminals can easily hide amongst the population
Only the wealthy can afford a Dacha War-criminals cannot hide amongst the small population Bombing of war-criminals is very-likely Bombing is very-likely The planet will most-likely be decivilized, and not a terribly-nice place to live Food will be lacking Populated by pissed-off wretched people
November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought We don’t know if this is true: http://www.google.com/search?q=kennedy+assassination+ufo+alien (Search for “Kennedy Assassination UFO Alien”) Remember, STAY AWAY FROM THEIR SHEDS! (As mentioned previously.)
WHERE EARTH-SOL FITS IN... WHEN THE WAR HEATS UP Examine the table above. When the war heats up, the following scenario is likely for Earth-Sol: 1.
Very-wealthy Hominoid families will hide out here. Some of these families have wealth in excess of $80-quintillion, one-million-times the wealth of the wealthiest Earth-Sol families.
2.
They will have a lot of weapons, small missiles, and estate-scale defences.
3.
Many of them will be war criminals. War-criminals are particularlyattracted to our 4-billion-people population, in which they can hide. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pursuit_of_Nazi_collaborators - See Argentina)
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November 12, 2011 4. If Earth-Sol’s media/governments learn about the hidden wealthy-families, the families may depose the government, or even perform a coup to ensure their safety. Since UFOs and aliens don’t exist, the media is unlikely to learn about the wealthy-families, and/or investigate the issue. Earth-Sol’s governments are less-likely to do anything. 5.
To prevent less-wealthy Hominoid-families from moving onto the planet, the wealthy families will significantly-upgrade Earth-Sol’s defences, almost overnight.
6.
To further-augment their own security, the wealthy families will most-likely land troops on all planets within 100-plus parsecs. The planets will be wellguarded, with defences decreasing the further-away from Earth-Sol a planet is. Most of the surrounding Hominoid-inhabitable planets already have Hominoid colonies. Their indigenous populations have been subjugated or genocided. Many planets within 100-plus parsecs have Insectoid civilizations. Hominoids have not colonized the planets because Hominoids cannot successfully live on the planets. Small contingents of Hominoid militaries are already landing on some of the Insectoid planets. Will the militaries of the wealthy families (planning on living on Earth-Sol) destroy the Insectoid civilizations? The Insectoids feel that this is likely. The Greyiloids have traditionally protected Earth-Sol. Hominoid militaries are attempting to genocide the Greyiloids, more than 500-parsecs away. Part of the reason for the planned-genocide could be so that the wealthiest-families can more-easily take-over Earth-Sol.
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November 12, 2011 7. Less-wealthy people (leaders and families of the military-defenders) will move onto planets near Earth-Sol. 8.
With all of the military and leadership in the area, war-and-retaliation activities will inevitably be organized and sourced from Earth-Sol, and the surrounding planets.
9.
The already-irate non-Hominoids will bomb the newly-militarized region.
10. While the non-Hominoids might desire to land infantry on Earth-Sol to save the enslaved indigenous-population, they won’t be able to. The planet will be too-well protected. If infantry manages to land, the wealthy families will flee, nuking the planet as they fly-off. 11. A long-term STALEMATE is likely, at least for Earth-Sol. The surrounding planets will most-likely be bombed and then retaken by non-Hominoid infantry... in which case, the wealthy-families may nuke the non-Hominoid surrounding planets, and then they may nuke Earth-Sol, as they fly-off.
A deeply random thought Most Mammaloids and Saurians (and animals) do NOT need glasses. They correct their vision using a squint-muscle, which we also have, but which has little-effect on our eyesight due to our skull shape.
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November 12, 2011
AVOIDING THE STALEMATE Here are some ways that a long-term stalemate could be avoided BEFORE IT BEGINS:
The wealthy families controlling Earth-Sol could “disclose” to politicians and the public, and let interested Homo-Sapiens leave now. As a sign of goodwill, and as a trial, they could begin letting some Homo-Sapiens leave immediately, before initiating political/public disclosure. Previous-agreements allowed Homo-Sapiens alien-abductees to be flownoff the planet at the rate of 10-a-day. 50 years ago, it was only-ever 1-aweek, with incredible-amounts of Hominoid interference/sliminess. Emigration declined to 4-a-year over the last decade.
Before Earth-Sol becomes a fortress, non-Hominoids could land en-masse and “disclose”, while simultaneously destroying all nearby militaryequipped Hominoid-colonies. This might lead to Earth-Sol being nuked by the Hominoids.
The fundamental issues could be discussed with the wealthy families: The wealthiest families wish a place to hide (in comfort) for the second-half of the war, and a long-time thereafter. They wish protection from nonHominoid police, as well as protection from other battleship-equipped Hominoids looking for refuge on their planet.
Some complications:
Anti-Hominoid sentiment in the taurosphere will swell as the war progresses. In the extreme, a deadline will be provided for ALL Hominoids to leave Earth-Sol, including the indigenous Homo-Sapiens.
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November 12, 2011 Historical evidence shows that Hominoid planets cannot be disarmed and cordoned-off from other Hominoids. Hominoids from distant galaxies ALWAYS arrive, re-arm, and re-bastardize the population.
Fortress-planets are most-easily disarmed by negotiations, or by nuking the entire surface, running a planetoid into the planet, or attacking the planet with its sun. If Earth-Sol becomes a military-fortress... o
If negotiations succeed (usually after many decades), the Hominoids (and indigenous Homo-Sapiens) could be allowed to flee to distant Hominoid planets. Consenting Homo Sapiens could have their souls transferred into non-Hominoid bodies, and be allowed to remain in the taurosphere (and perhaps on the planet).
o
If negotiations fail, Homo-Sapiens are unlikely to survive any disarmament attempt.
The same issues exists for ALL non-disclosed Hominoid planets, approximately 10 in the Milky Way galaxy, and 10,000-plus in this taurosphere.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought In more-technological societies, medication is almost-always refrigerated. It often comes in “break vials” that work like “glow sticks”. 2-3 chemicals are chemically combined-together by 1-2 “enzymes” when the stick is crimped and then shaken. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glow_stick) Snake and insect venoms are mixed/created on demand in this fashion. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venom) Dried pills are almost never as effective and/or directed.
FROM OUR POINT OF VIEW... From an indigenous Homo-Sapiens’ point-of-view, the following scenarios are possible given current war-climate conditions:
Earth-Sol could be nuked by Hominoids.
The neighbouring Insectoids (along with a less-scary-looking multiracialforce) could land diplomats, and “disclose” to political leaders and the public. They would then land troops on Earth-Sol to prevent it from being turned into a Hominoid military-fortress. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peacekeeping_Force) Earth-Sol might be nuked by Hominoids soon afterwards. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canal_Hotel_bombing - The attack on the United Nations headquarters in Iraq.)
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November 12, 2011 Homo Sapiens and Hominids would most-likely be allowed off Earth. As part of a hypothesized political-settlement, a smaller-number of Hominoids would be allowed to land on Earth to hide-out. Again hypothesized, over the next 50 years, transports would move Hominoids and indigenous Homo-Sapiens to distant galaxies. People consenting to be put into non-Hominoid bodies could stay in the taurosphere, and depending upon negotiations, stay on Earth-Sol.
“Disclosure” could happen as a joint Hominoid and non-Hominoid project. ... And then transportation off Earth-Sol would be arranged over the next 50 years... (as above)
“Disclosure” could happen as 100-million-plus more Hominoids land (on top of the 58-million first and second generation Hominoids already here), and turn Earth-Sol into a military-fortress. This could lead to nuking by nonHominoids, or transportation, or a blockade, or anything else.
Races less-antagonistic towards Hominoids could invade and take-over the taurosphere, in which case, anything could happen.
Pink elephants could fly-in... Anything could happen. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pink_Elephants_on_Parade, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/When_pigs_fly)
Nothing noticeable could happen for fifty years, and then...
Nothing noticeable could happen.
Races less-antagonistic towards Hominoids could invade and takeover the taurosphere, in which case, anything could happen.
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November 12, 2011 Amicable “disclosure” could happen, followed by transportation to distant galaxies.
After 50-ish years of failed negotiations, an invasion by non-Hominoids could happen, followed by transportation to distant galaxies.
After 50-ish years of failed negotiations, Earth-Sol could be severelynuked by the non-Hominoids.
A deeply random thought Saurian “Fat-bites” are like deep-fried chicken-nuggets, except they’re breaded fat-pieces from various body-locations, glued-together. They are dipped in different sauces, including sweet-and-sour, spicy chili, jalapeño, and yoghurt. “Fat-bites” accompany a hearty-meal of barbequed dog-ribs.
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November 12, 2011
ENGINEERING (PART 6) ALOTIAN/GECKO HEMISPHERE CAKE-TIN
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Cat-television-news is now showing infantry-combat scenes. They only show video of Cat-evolved people running, hiding behind-cover, and shooting. They don’t show Hominoids or wounded people. They don’t show dead Cat-evolved people before, during, or after the infantry-combat scenes. Rabbit-evolved and Rat-evolved people are also shown in similar situations.
COMPUTER GAMES (PART 1) Approximately 10% of Homo-Sapiens adults (on Earth-Sol only) are avid computergamers. 50% of children are computer-gamers. Only 10% of other races play as many computer-games as we do. The types of games played are:
A few races prefer short-duration first-person shooters and space-combat games. They often play in virtual-reality rooms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_person_shooter)
Another yet-unnamed race enjoys stealth games, where players avoid getting shot and/or caught. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stealth_game)
Some Carp-evolved people play first-person role-playing games similar to “The Elder scrolls IV: Oblivion”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roleplaying_video_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Elder_Scrolls_IV:_Oblivion)
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November 12, 2011 Crab-evolved people play text adventure-games whose puzzles can actually be solved, thanks to the built-in person-like hint-system. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adventure_game)
Elapidae play point-and-click adventure-games, with simple role-playinggame elements. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adventure_game)
Homo Sapiens on Earth-Sol play sports-simulators, platformers, firstperson-shooters, role-playing games, massively-multiplayer online games, and real-time strategy games. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sports_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Platformer, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_person_shooter, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Role-playing_video_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massively_multiplayer_online_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Real-time_strategy)
Nor play first-person role-playing games similar to “The Elder scrolls IV: Oblivion”, but with more emphasis on combat. Nearly every Nor shoppingmall sells molybdenum(?)-alloy wall-decoration swords. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Role-playing_video_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Elder_Scrolls_IV:_Oblivion)
Ruffed-Lemurs, Sifaka, and Indri enjoy 1980’s arcade-games at home, or in actual arcades, while consuming copious quantities of spicy curly-fries. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arcade_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruffed_lemur, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sifaka, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indri, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curly_fries#Curly_fries)
Many-more races use computers to play non-computer games, such as card-games and tic-tac-toe. Approximately 50% of Homo-Sapiens adults do so also.
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November 12, 2011 Not exactly a game: Some races use virtual-reality rooms (or low-tech videodisplays) to experience life through the eyes, ears, and senses of other people. They occasionally “thump” thoughts into the minds of the people they’re watching – with strict legal-limitations.
A randomly deep thought Alotian cranberry-rice in a butter crust
Cranberry-rice in a butter-crust o
o
Cranberry “rice” filling
Risotto cooked in watered-down cranberry-juice (or perhaps cranberry-apple juice, but the apple-juice may “burn”)
Raisins
Fill pre-cooked 7-cm butter-crust pie-crusts with the risotto filling
Rocket salad with balsamic-vinegar dressing (no oil), on the plate
A small piece of white-cake with sickeningly-sweet icing-sugar frosting, on the plate, eaten with the main meal
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November 12, 2011
I DON’T WANT TO WRITE ANY-MORE WAR-UPDATES (16/4/2011) I don’t want to write the UFO Quibbler. I emphatically do NOT want to write “War Updates”. Here’s why:
An innocuous illustration of a hemispherical cake-tin caused problems. Let me set the record straight for both parties: Gecko hemispherical cake-tins only cook chocolate rice-flour cakes, with orange-marmalade filling, and a yoghurt-like frosting. Alotian hemispherical cake-tins only cook custard white-wheat-flour cakes, with strawberry filling, and a sickeningly-sweet icing-sugar frosting.
Someone keeps chiming-in and telling me that I need to explain “reddwarf stars”. Very well! See the “red-dwarf” section below if you’re an astronomer.
I hate using evasive-wording. I have to use evasive-wording for this document, so I don’t inadvertently [evasive-wording goes here] some races and nations.
“We’re having a massive war over there, and all we get is half a sentence? Drop the cake-tin segment, and put in more news!”
I am trying to limit news and topics to information that make the document more-viral, that alerts indigenous Earth-Sol Homo-Sapiens to the occupation, and to convince off-planet Hominids not to destroy EarthSol’s culture/civilization.
I have learned from previous-employers, that if I perform too-well on a job I don’t wish to do, I get stuck doing the disliked job. I don’t want to get stuck writing news. Hominoids on other planets telepathically-harass me,
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November 12, 2011 complaining that I’m biased, and that this is their planet, and I should get off it, while at the same time, their metaorganism prevents me from leaving.
A deeply random thought Nor prefer hand-drawn animation to computer animation. Nor animators produce animations with special software: 1.
Animators animate computer-model characters, using a threedimensional screen (like we have now). Stereo cameras attached to the screen identify where the animators’ fingers are, as they hold-up their hands in front of the monitor. Animators use their fingers to grab, move, and rotate objects in three-dimensional-space. (We, the Nor, use 2:1 monitors. Why did you guys decide on 16:9?)
2.
The computer renders the animated-scene into a sequence of frames.
3.
A non-photorealistic renderer performs object edge-detection and shading. Edges and shading are converted to splines and fills. Similarlocation/shape splines and fills from adjacent frames are associated with one-another, and converted into time-based splines and fills. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-photorealistic_rendering)
4.
The animators can then grab-and-move the computer-generated timebased splines and fills in a frame, hand-adjusting them so they look better. The hand-modifications to a spline/fill are carried on to subsequent frames, with interpolation between key-frames.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (16/4/2011) TIME-SUNK PLANETS 6 years-ago, 2 years-ago, and 1 year-ago, 4000-km-diameter flying-planets were used to “time-sink” three planets within 15 parsecs of Earth-Sol. To people living on a time-sunk planet, their sun disappears for a week. When it reappears, they have returned to normal-time space 6, 2, or 1 years later. To people living on other planets, the time-sunk planet disappears for years, and then reappears, sometimes in an adjacent solar-system. Planets are time-sunk because:
The enemy is often blamed when the planet disappears; free “I hate the enemy” points.
If a planet is time-sunk in a certain “direction”, the planet acts like a verylarge time-ball. It provides more-accurate prediction of the future... 6, 2, or 1 years into the future, in this case.
Time-sinking keeps the planet’s people and resources in stasis, ready for future use.
The planet is effectively invisible, and cannot (normally) be attacked while time-sunk.
Time-sunk planets can act as large bowling-balls when they float-back to normal-time space, unexpectedly destroying any planet they impact.
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November 12, 2011 A few days ago, a time-sunk Hominid planet popped-up in a nearby non-Hominoid solar-system. 1.
Of course, it had-been used as a giant time-ball.
2.
When the planet resurfaced, it nearly hit the non-Hominoid planet. It mostlikely was supposed-to impact.
3.
The non-Hominoid solar-system was very-well hidden. Now that a Hominid planet has appeared in it, the solar-system is no-longer well-hidden. Hominids on the Hominid-planet are signal-screaming their location, calling for help from Hominoids everywhere.
4.
The Hominid planet must be removed from the non-Hominoid solarsystem so it doesn’t collide with the non-Hominoid planet.
5.
A non-Hominoid planet “net” is being prepared, to move the Hominidplanet out of the solar-system.
6.
Since this particular Hominid planet is poorly defended, non-Hominoids wish to deep-freeze it, and look through its very-deep bunkers to see what kind of arsenal the Hominoids have in-store for them.
7.
Hominids on the planet fired missiles at the nearby non-Hominoid planet.
8.
Hominids on the planet are sending bots to the nearby planets.
9.
The Hominid planet created a hole in the solar-system’s defences, which other Hominoids will exploit.
10. Hominoid “rescuers” are on the way. From experience, they won’t rescue the people on the planet. They will occupy and arm the planet further, and prevent it from being pulled out of the non-Hominoid solar-system.
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November 12, 2011 11. Non-Hominoid battleships are on the way, to prevent the Hominoid “rescuers” from occupying and further-arming the planet. 12. Hominoid militaries will send even-more warships, to counteract the nonHominoid battleships that are on the way. 13. With so-many Hominoid warships in the area, some will take the opportunity to further-occupy and arm planets within 100-200 parsecs of Earth-Sol (as mentioned a few-sections above). 14. Which means that Hominoid-settlements within 100-200 parsecs of EarthSol are more-likely to be attacked, with the intention of dissuading furtheroccupation and arming. The local non-Hominoids do not want Earth-Sol turned into a fortress. 15. Which means more non-Hominoid battleships will be sent here. 16. The Hominoids may redirect their super-high-technology wipe-fleet here. It was en-route to attack the Saurians in the Andromeda Galaxy. 17. Which means that even-more non-Hominoid militaries will show-up. 18. As this war-cyst unexpectedly develops, Hominoid-leaders are alerted by their militaries. The signals are traced, and Hominoid leaders in The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) are being located. When found in-concentration on a planet, (most-likely having a warmeeting) the planet is often immediately blown-up; finding 10,000+ leaders, all on one planet, is a rare occurrence. 19. Hominoid nations enraged by the leadership mass-assassinations will launch retaliation-missiles in all directions. They will hit more nonHominoid planets.
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November 12, 2011 20. Non-Hominoid nations hit by retaliation-missiles will respond. 21. At least two other planets within 15-parsecs of Earth-Sol are resurfacing soon. 22. The Hominoid planet-dunkers may have intentionally-sunk the planets so that they all bob-up now, a date predicted by previously-deployed timespheres. In other words, it’s all a self-fulfilling “prophecy”. 23. Thousands of Hominoid planets have been time-sunk in The Six Kingdoms and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck). They will all have to be dealt with. 24. Some supposedly-neutral very-high-tech Aussies seem to be veryinterested in watching the time-sunk planets. They have goliaths hidden in custom spaces. They are appearing to be less-and-less neutral.
A randomly deep thought When The Six Kingdoms’ planet was assassinated along with the local Hominid-Emperor, 10,000-ish Hominoid leaders were also assassinated.
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November 12, 2011
THE PROBLEM WITH ASSASSINATING-AND-ARRESTING HOMINOID LEADERS Non-Hominoids have been assassinating-and-arresting Hominoid leaders. This has consequences:
Someone’s location in the leadership-hierarchy is correlated to intelligence, skill, and experience. If the highest-ranking officials are assassinated-andarrested as-a-priority, which they are, then overall-leadership gets lessintelligent, more-inept, and less-experienced.
Less-intelligent, more-inept, and less-experienced leaders make worse decisions... which means they’re easier to defeat militarily. Their inability also nixes any chance of a cease-fire, and accelerates the “moral decay” of the war. (An accelerated “moral decay” means that the war gets nastier more -quickly.)
Newly-promoted leaders have no-clue what’s going on. They can’t even find the key to their ex-boss’ desk. Nor do they know who their boss’ boss is. It’s easier for charlatans to gain power: “You just got promoted because your boss was assassinated-and-arrested. I’m in the same boat. My boss, who was your boss’s boss, is now missing after travelling to planet-X. I even purchased a first-class pressurized-cabin for him. I’m now your boss.”
The Hominoid computers store standing-orders, with associated “leadership level”. Those standing-orders can only be overridden by someone who knows they exist, and by someone with a higher leadershiplevel. Newly-promoted leaders don’t get their leadership-level bumped-up for some time, especially if it’s uncertain whether their old boss is still functional as a leader. Consequently, the computer is in more-control of the Hominoids.
As Hominoid-leaders lose the social-connections necessary to coordinate and cooperate, Hominoid governments and militaries are turning into a
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November 12, 2011 “rabble”. If there are 40 Hominoid militaries, any-one of the militaries could scuttle an agreement.
In tit-for-tat, non-Hominoid leaders are more-likely to be assassinated-andarrested by Hominoids... but then again, Hominoids have been doing this for the last 500 galactic years. Aussies enjoy assassinating, as well as holding people hostage.
A deeply random thought Individual countries on Hominoid planets are owned by different Hominoid families. If Family-A has a dispute with Family-B, then Family-B’s countries might experience economic devastation in the form of population insurrection, famine, hurricanes, earthquakes, etc. Whoever owned Biblical-Egypt really pissed-off someone. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plagues_of_Egypt)
AFTER-THE-WAR WARNINGS
With sufficient cultural-rage, some unsanctioned non-Hominoid citizens will go “Hominoid hunting” on their weekends and holidays. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ku_Klux_Klan, reverse the roles)
“Why did you lead us into this mess?” Hominoids will go ex-leader assassinating on their weekends and holidays. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benito_Mussolini)
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November 12, 2011 When the Hominoid-Empire was defeated 80,000 years ago, Hominoids were left on the planets they invaded/settled, and allowed to “go primitive”. When technological-Hominoids returned 60,000 years later, they found agrarian Hominoids on the planets. They quoted a law that said that if Hominoids were on the planet for more than 1000-ish years, the planet belonged to the Hominoids. That precedence will backfire this time. Left-over invading/settling Hominoids will not be left on the planets they invaded/settled. Some Hominoids will not-willingly leave in spaceplane-transports, though. Plans are in the works to release very-large predators on the planets once the Hominoid-remnants use-up their technology. Or, to build-and-release military-bots that automatically-recognize Hominoids, and then automatically kill them.
The Hominoid-Empire has destroyed so-many planets that the Hominoid race may be denied any planets at all, after the war.
A deeply random thought If Hominids migrating to Earth-Sol bring in a non-Hominoid-created not-a-virus like the black death, who on Earth-Sol will be receive the appropriate medication? Since the medication will be researched and synthesized on another Hominoid planet, it may only be available to off-planet Hominids. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Death)
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOID LEGAL-REASONS WHY “DISCLOSURE” ISN’T HAPPENING Hominoid civil-servants periodically inventory the technology-capability of “nondisclosed” planets. If a planet has enough “technology points”, Hominoid law dictates that it must be disclosed to. Off-planet Hominids who “own” Earth-Sol may be keeping Earth-Sol’s technology-points just-below the threshold where disclosure is legally-required.
Our computer-technology is exceptional for our over-all technology-level. Lots of technology-points.
Our space-technology may have been rolled-back after the moon-landing. Fewer technology-points.
Our spaceplane technology is intentionally “not there”, although some unrelated off-planet Hominids sneaked-in the Aurora. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurora_(aircraft))
Our medical-technology misunderstands a lot. (The list of the misunderstandings is intentionally omitted from here.)
Our governance is lacking, especially without a meaningful UnitedNations. Lose technology-points. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Nations)
Our planet has impoverished regions, such as Africa. Lose technologypoints.
Our belief in heaven-and-hell, and the creation-of-the-world in 6 days also loses technology-points. 2749 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
Our exposure to “aliens” has been rolled-back. Many “non-disclosed” Hominid planets have a single race of “animal” people on them, counting towards technology-points. The Greyiloids at Area 51 and Dulce-Base would have counted for more technology-points, but they’re no-longer on the planet.
Our misrepresentation of dinosaurs might-even marginally reduce technology-points.
Etcetera
Why would Earth-Sol’s “technology points” be intentionally-capped?
Hominid migration to “disclosed” planets is mostly-unrestricted. Upon “disclosure”, Earth-Sol would most-likely be populated by war-bred sociopaths.
Some laws on “disclosed” planets are standardized. For example: Major Earth-Sol cities would be illegal, due to population-density and buildingheight limitations.
If Earth-Sol is “disclosed-to” before the war, then it is subject-to-attack during the war. By treaty, “non-disclosed” planets are neutral, and cannot (for-the-most-part) be attacked by non-Hominoid enemies. The war has been impending for the last 60 years.
Some planet-owners like low-tech planets.
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November 12, 2011 The Greyloids and others in the Milky-Way Galaxy have been insisting that Earth-Sol be multiracial, and independent of the Hominoid Empire. The Hominoid Empire won’t accept these terms.
A randomly deep thought What if the people who were frightened by the War of the Worlds radiobroadcast in 1938, were off-planet Hominids? Off-planet Hominids would have been alarmed by the mock news-report, thinking that it might be real coverage of an actual invasion. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_of_the_Worlds_(radio) )
ASTRONOMY (PART 1)
A “red dwarf” is an expired star. They are very-large (10-50 g’s) very-hot molten planets. Red-dwarfs are extradimensionally-thick. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_dwarf)
A star is (kind-of) a conglomeration of “gas” “atoms”. When the combinedmass of “gas” “atoms” is large enough, gravity pushes-out the “gas” “atoms” into a very-hyper-dimensional sphere. Once extradimensionally dislocated, the “atoms” encounter new laws of physics. Some of the laws of physics turn portions of the “atoms” into light. Other physics-laws create heavier “atoms”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star)
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November 12, 2011
A “red dwarf” is formed inside a star as it creates heavy “atoms”. When the “red dwarf” is large enough, it prevents the “gas” “atoms” from experiencing star-like laws-of-physics. The star’s light goes out, and the remaining “gas” dissipates.
As a star ages, its “red dwarf” rotates faster and faster. Exceptionallybright poles are created in the star, typically not in a direction that can be seen. If the star happens to be pointing in exactly the right hyperdimensional direction towards you, you see it as a quasar. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quasar)
A star can be extinguished by flinging a “red-dwarf” into it.
A nebula can be created by extinguishing lots of stars in a region of space. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nebula)
Super-novas are created when two stars collide, especially when their physics (composition) and spin are just right. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernova)
Gas-giants are stars-in-formation. They have a non-baryonic core (stuff that isn’t normal matter), with an empty void around that, surrounded by a gaseous atmosphere. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gas_giant, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon)
If gas-giants are not present in a solar-system, then a solar-wind-created gas-cloud will develop around the star. The size of the star’s atmosphere is correlated to the star’s escape-velocity. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solar_wind, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Escape_velocity)
An object is considered to be “in a solar-system” if is in equilibrium... Gravity combined with the solar-atmosphere’s drag causes the object to fall
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November 12, 2011 towards the sun. Momentum combined with the solar-wind’s outward-push causes the object to fall-away from the sun. (This is not-quite-right.) As a consequence of this definition, Pluto is not officially in Earth-Sol’s solar system. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pluto)
Planets mostly-get their atmosphere and water from the solar winds. The solar-wind gas-molecules that “stick” to the planet’s atmosphere are affected by the planets mass, electromagnetic fields, moon, and distance from its sun. Oxygen and hydrogen in the atmosphere turn into water. Mars will eventually have oceans and an oxygen-rich atmosphere.
Galaxies are much-more complicated than you think they are.
The laws of physics are altered by mass. They are altered more by hot mass. They are also altered more by spinning mass.
All matter decays into smaller (and different) matter.
Stars (and other things) combine smaller (and different) matter into larger matter.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought From “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, by Douglas Adams: (http://www.cgoakley.demon.co.uk/vlhurgs/, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douglas_adams)
Careless Talk It is of course well known that careless talk costs lives, but the full scale of the problem is not always appreciated. For instance, a human (see Earth) named Arthur Dent who, because of a Vogon Constructor Fleet, was one of the last two humans in the Universe at the time, once said "I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle." At the very moment that Arthur said this, a freak wormhole opened up in the fabric of the space-time continuum and carried his words far-far back in time across almost infinite reaches of space to a distant Galaxy where strange and warlike beings were poised on the brink of frightful interstellar battle. The two opposing leaders were meeting for the last time. A dreadful silence fell across the conference table as the commander of the Vl'Hurgs, resplendent in his black jeweled battle shorts, gazed levelly at the G'Gugvuntt leader squatting opposite him in a cloud of green sweet-smelling steam, and, with a million sleek and horribly beweaponed star cruisers poised to unleash electric death at his single word of command, challenged the vile creature to take back what it had said about his mother. The creature stirred in his sickly broiling vapor, and at that very moment the words “I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle” drifted across the conference table. Unfortunately, in the Vl'Hurg tongue this was the most dreadful insult 2754 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 imaginable, and there was nothing for it but to wage terrible war for centuries. Eventually of course, after their Galaxy had been decimated over a few thousand years, it was realized that the whole thing had been a ghastly mistake, and so the two opposing battle fleets settled their few remaining differences in order to launch a joint attack on our own Galaxy - now positively identified as the source of the offending remark. For thousands more years the mighty ships tore across the empty wastes of space and finally dived screaming onto the first planet they came across - which happened to be the Earth - where due to a terrible miscalculation of scale the entire battle fleet was accidentally swallowed by a small dog. Those who study the complex interplay of cause and effect in the history of the Universe say that this sort of thing is going on all the time, but that we are powerless to prevent it. "It's just life," they say.
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November 12, 2011
TIME-WAR MECHANICS (PART 1) CONVERGENT DECISION-POINTS 1993 – 2011 In 1993-ish, I decided that, in the likely-event that aliens existed, I wanted to “travel into space” as-soon-as disclosure happened. In 2005-ish, I decided to use the computer-game I was authoring as a vehicle for “disclosure”. In early 2007, while E-mailing my high-school classmates about our upcoming 20th reunion, I mentioned the “disclosure” computer-game idea to a few of them. Player-characters would begin in an ordinary contemporary-town, slowly discover alien-influences in the town, leading to alien encounters, and the end-game would take place on another planet. In 2007, I attended my 20th high-school reunion. I was going to attend it whether or not I was going to incorporate “disclosure” into my computer-game. In early 2009, I began writing the “disclosure” portion of my computer-game. I planned to have the “disclosure” game-world playable by 2010. I also planned to begin-attending UFO conferences in 2010, and work on “disclosure” for the next decade. Everything went weird in mid-2009, a month before I was going to meet with my parents and travel to the United Kingdom. The “aliens” watching-me knew I was going to travel to the UK, and planned something for me while I was in Scotland. I didn’t know of their plans at the time. I never made it to the United Kingdom. Instead, I ended up in an insane-asylum, and my parents flew here to visit me, and so did the “aliens”.
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November 12, 2011 Convergence #1: a)
I was going to meet my parents in the United Kingdom, and have some sort of “alien” encounter in Scotland. Or...
b) I was going to have an “alien” encounter at home, and meet my parents in the local hospital. (Which happened.)
Convergence #1a: a)
In 2010, I was going to begin working on “disclosure” full-time... assuming that convergence-option (#1-b) did not occur. Or...
b) In 2009, I was going to begin working on “disclosure” full-time... if convergence-option (#1-b) occurred. (Which happened.)
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November 12, 2011 Convergence #2: a)
In 2011, if the “aliens” had not activated my telepathy-implant... I was going to attend my 20-year Caltech (university) reunion. I would have begunworking on disclosure by 2010. Some of my Caltech-classmates would most-likely have whispered-to-me about the “alien projects” they were working on, which would completely-immerse me in “disclosure”. Or...
b) In 2011, if telepathy was activated (which it is)... I was going-to attend my 20-year Caltech (university) reunion, and whisper to my Caltechclassmates about “aliens” and “disclosure”.
Causality-loop #1: a)
Because “disclosure” was rumoured to happen in 2012, along with (or as an alternative to) the end of the world, I began-thinking about working on “disclosure” in 2005.
b) Because I began thinking about working on “disclosure” in 2005, “disclosure” might-be more-likely to occur in 2012. I take not credit for ending the world.
A randomly deep thought The technology and skill used in a time-battle can be estimated based on the “shape” of “convergences” and “causality loops” generated by the time-battle.
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November 12, 2011
20-YEAR REUNION – 2011, ONE MONTH FROM NOW When Convergence #1 and #1a occurred in 2009:
My telepathy-implant was activated.
I got caught in a time-battle.
I had “aliens” walking around my house and yard, wearing encounter suits.
I broke my foot, went insane, wandered through the Australian-bush halfnaked, and ended up in an insane-asylum.
UFOs/spaceplanes were visible above my house for months.
The question is: Were Convergence #1 and #1a a foreshock to Convergence #2, or will Convergence #2 be an aftershock to Convergence #1 and #1a? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foreshock, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aftershock) The second question is: How will the dis-entropy “energy” be released at Convergence #2? Will I once-more go insane, or will someone-else go insane, or will something-else happen? Or will the magnitude be too-small to be noticeable? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy) I take no credit for the destruction of Pasadena, Los-Angeles county, the state of California, or the Earth.
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November 12, 2011
20-YEAR REUNION – ON A LESS-SERIOUS NOTE
Statistically, some of my Caltech-classmates must be working on the “alien projects”. Will their secrecy-agreements keep them from talking to me?
I haven’t met any of my Caltech-classmates for 17 years. I suspect that if I lived in California, I would have had back-of-the-cafe discussions where I would have heard about the “alien projects”. How many of my Caltechclassmates who had back-of-the-cafe discussions about the “alien projects” will talk to me?
My Caltech-classmates who don’t know about the “alien projects” will think I’ve lost it, and they won’t go near me either.
What will Caltech-alum that don’t know me do when they hear my tale? If they’re working on the “alien projects”? If they don’t know about the “alien projects”? Hopefully, a Caltech-alum working on the hypothesized “alien projects” will get this document to his/her off-planet-Hominid manager.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought The Hominoid computer-system is gradually being destroyed by nonHominoids. One side-effect of the computer’s destruction is that Hominoids are increasingly-unable to model the war on their computers… which leads to: Military-tech person: “The military computer is down and won’t tell us what to do. What should we do?” Newly-promoted leader: “Hell! I don’t know. Just nuke that planet over there,” (s)he says pointing. The war gets nastier more-quickly.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY I added another story, Memoires of a Thylacine, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. It’s about a Zeen who lived on the hidden Zeen-planets in Earth-Sol’s solar-system. The story includes some Earth-Sol “disclosure” history.
A deeply random thought Gecko-evolved children don’t carry teddy-bears around. They prefer fake-fur fluff-stuffed bright-green crocodiles.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (28/4/2011) I DON’T WANT TO WRITE THIS I am intentionally omitting most of the news so I don’t get stuck in the role. The Greyiloids are quite unhappy this; they want to report how dizzy they feel after the Hominids’ latest attack.
A KIND-OF DISCLOSURE ATTEMPT NUMBERS Some more numbers:
5,000 Hominid planets in this taurosphere are undisclosed, like Earth-Sol.
500,000 Hominid planets are undisclosed in the larger war-region... which is still a very-small part of the entire war.
Half of the undisclosed Hominid planets are fascist, and genociders. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fascism)
Half of the undisclosed Hominid planets have pre-television technology. They aren’t desirable as places for off-planet Hominids to hide.
Fewer than 10% of the undisclosed Hominid planets have as much Caucasian sub-racial variety as we do on Earth-Sol.
Basically, Earth-Sol is a great place to hide-out the war. 2763 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
A NOT-QUITE-A-DISCLOSURE TEST-CASE In a galaxy in our taurosphere, the Arthropod neighbours of a non-disclosed planet emphasized to the planet’s off-planet Hominids, that the planet should remain neutral, unarmed, and 99% indigenous. The “Hiding-out from the War” scenario, as described 50-ish pages earlier, was beginning to happen. The non-disclosed planet has:
Approximately 1-billion Hominids.
The indigenous African-looking Hominids are unaware of spaceflight.
10% of the Hominid population is from off-planet, first, second, or third generation. Being Caucasian, they are readily spotted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apartheid)
Hominid militaries have been turning the planet and region around the planet into a fortress, just like they have been doing to Earth-Sol and the region around her.
Since the planet is low-valued, Hominid militaries seem to only be arming the region within 50 parsecs. Earth-Sol’s defences are expected to reach 200 parsecs in diameter.
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November 12, 2011 Here is the current timeline of events: Day 0
Arthropod diplomats land and inform the world’s Caucasian leaders that they won’t let the planet arm-up, and that they will deploy troops on the planet if necessary. The Caucasians shoot members of the Arthropod contingent. By war-rules-treaty, non-disclosed planets are NOT to be armed, nor are they to have less than 99% non-indigenous population. (Treaties vary from planet-to-planet.)
Day 7, approximately
The planet’s television media, also watched by the Africanlooking Hominids, squelch rumours of “aliens”. (The United States media was squelched 2 days after Roswell.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_incident)
Day 14, approximately
People are arrested by the off-planet Hominids (and their followers) for having-met the aliens. (13 days after Roswell, United States citizens were arrested without having-even seen the “aliens”.)
Day 28
10-million military Hominids land on the planet, with copious weaponry. They scatter throughout the planet’s cities so they cannot be nuked as a group. To get rid of them, every city on the planet would have to be nuked, or ground-forces would need to deployed... resulting in every city on the planet being destroyed.
Day 33, approximately (Now)
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Discussions continue. Arthropod investigators have learned that the Hominid planetowners have a comitatus agreement and contracts stipulating “We all stand or fall together,” combined with “If we cannot have this planet, we’re going to nuke it along with the nations that prevent us from having this planet.”
November 12, 2011
HOW THIS AFFECTS EARTH-SOL
Earth-Sol’s “disclosure” is now included in a process along-with 50,000 other non-disclosed Hominid planets.
Some Aussies and Alotians are proposing that they be part of a hypothetical peacekeeping force for Earth-Sol. They are NOT at war with the Hominids, and many Aussie and Alotian nations are NOT at war with the non-Hominoids.
Other races are also interested in a partaking in a hypothetical peacekeeping force. (I hate weasel-words.)
The Greyiloids still wish to visit the Grand Canyon.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY I added another story, Soap Opera, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. A Saurian, and an Elk-evolved person, are taken hostage by Hominids to appear as supporting cast-members in a Hominid science-fiction soap-opera. (Mature content.)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (5/5/2011) So I don’t get locked into this job and onto this planet, I am only reporting the mostmajor news items.
THE SIX KINGDOMS Simplistically, there are four technology-levels of weaponry: 1.
Weapons built by a nation – Usually low-tech, these weapons are designed and manufactured by a nation.
2.
Purchased weapons – Higher-tech than weapons built by a nation, these are purchased and (for the most part) can be used without restriction.
3.
Licensed weapons (The high-technology wipe-fleet) – These advanced weapons are legally licensed to nations. Their use is (or should be) strictly monitored by on-site representatives from responsible races.
4.
Stolen or illegal hand-me-down weapons (“Weapons of the Ancients”) – The highest-tech weapons are stolen from very high-tech societies using wipe-fleets. Or, they are illegally-purchased hand-me-downs originating from very high-tech societies. The weapons’ security-lockouts are hacked so they work for whoever stole them.
Not only did The Six Kingdoms harbor a “High-technology wipe-fleet”, The Six Kingdoms has been acting as a “weapons-bank”, storing “Weapons of the Ancients” for themselves and others. So-much and such high-tech weaponry has attracted even higher-tech (more-“ancient”) races into the conflict. They are here to “disable” the “Weapons of the Ancients”. Storing and sheltering “Weapons of the Ancients” on,
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November 12, 2011 in, or near an inhabited planet is not recommended. Neither is their use recommended. The local Greyiloid planets have been attacked by “Weapons of the Ancients”. Other planets have also been attacked. Some “Weapons of the Ancients” currently being used are:
Extradimensional planet-bowling – One collection of spacecraft aims and accelerates a small planet towards a target planet. The small planet ends up travelling very quickly. Impacts are often extradimensional, turning the target planet inside-out. The bullet-planet usually merges into the target planet on impact.
Extradimensional spinners – These war machines start a planet spinning extradimensionally. If the rotation isn’t stopped in time, the planet turns to mush.
Mega planet-dunkers – These weapons time-dunk a planet for 40 (or more) years, though only months pass for the planet’s inhabitants. Signals from the planet can be used to predict possible futures. No-one can get on or off the planet for that amount of time. When the planet resurfaces, it often ends up part-way across a galaxy, usually in a precarious orbit.
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November 12, 2011
THE HOMINID DISTRIBUTED-COMPUTER The Hominid war-effort if often in the “hands of” the Hominid distributedcomputer:
Hominid leadership enters military-standing-orders into the computer. If a leader is killed or captured, their standing-orders are not overridden until the leader is proven dead/captured, or until someone with like or higher leadership-priority discovers the standing-orders.
The distributed computer-system controls all major civilian and military needs. This includes finances, air-traffic control, planetary-invasion valuations, people’s permanent records, people/enemy tracking, and slave/hostage pricing/trading.
The distributed computer-system is regularly hacked into by Hominids for their own gain, and by non-Hominoids as part of the war.
EARTH-SOL EXTRADIMENSIONAL LAYERS Earth-Sol is an extradimensionally-thick planet. As described previously, this means that she has several Hominoid-habitable “layers”. They are like the frosting-part of a layered cake. We live on one of the layers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Layer_cake) Our layer is the most-friendly to Hominids.
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November 12, 2011 Off-planet Hominids are currently living on at least one other layer, about 100 meters away… in extradimensional space. The other-layer’s topography has similar-looking continents and mountain ranges. The laws of physics are different though:
There is breathable oxygen.
There is little rain, so the land is mostly desert.
Water is extremely thick. It is undrinkable. Our plants cannot survive on it.
Hominids must live in extradimensionally “pressurized” buildings or they will die of baryonic-rotation, baryonic-degeneration, and moleculardegeneration in days. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon)
Consequently:
Very-few Hominids live on the other layer(s), perhaps 10 million.
Defensive military-units are stationed there.
Some elite “botters” live co-located (but extradimensionally-offset) with Earth-Sol cities.
Some spaceplanes first “land” on the lightly-inhabited layer, and then “shimmy” to our layer.
Very-very few off-planet Hominids living on our layer of Earth-Sol actually know about the other layer(s).
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November 12, 2011
HYPOTHETICAL EARTH-SOL PEACEKEEPERS I hate weasel words: a) The people most-interested in migrating to Earth-Sol, are refugees. b) The people most-interested in volunteering their militaries and police as peacekeepers on Earth-Sol, are those who are most-interested in migrating here. c)
Refugees are most-likely to be people whose planets have been invaded or destroyed by Hominids, or whose planets have been invaded or destroyed by non-Hominoids.
d) The refugees that are most-likely to migrate here, are those who get-along with both Earth Sol’s indigenous and off-planet Hominids. e) Refugees that don’t get-along with people on other planets, are less-likely to migrate to those planets. f)
Refugees that don’t get along with people elsewhere in the taurosphere, are less-likely to be allowed to migrate here.
Follow classical logic, and other hints included in this document, to decode the weasel words.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY I added another story, Red-Panda Nanny, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. A Red-Panda university-student takes a summer-break job as “clever-pet” nanny to an Alotian family. It’s a humorous cross between Marry Poppins and The Sound of Music. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_poppins, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sound_of_Music_(film) )
WAR UPDATE (22/5/2011) I am not going to write-up a war-update this week.
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November 12, 2011
HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT – CALTECH BEFORE HEADING TO CALTECH Before heading to Caltech, I photographed some more spaceplane clouds, generated by bored spaceplane-pilots:
A cloud generated by a cube spaceplane, from the ground. Previously, I linked to some Google satellite-maps images of “rectangle”-clouds photographed over Canada.
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November 12, 2011
This is a “cloud monster” of a Panther, created by a triangle spaceplane. The right forepaw (to your left) has four fingers. The left forepaw (to your right) has three fingers. You can see the Panther’s head in the centre, jaw opened. Unfortunately, the eyes didn’t come out that well.
You can find all of my new photos archived on http://www.disclosuree.com/PhotoArchive5.zip.
T-SHIRT ADVERTISING I recently attended my 20-year university-reunion at Caltech. The reunion was attended by 300-ish Caltech alumni spanning 60 years, as well as an additional 200ish non-alum for Caltech’s Seminary Day. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caltech, http://alumni.caltech.edu/learning/seminar_day) 2775 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 While there, I wore 8 different custom-printed T-shirts over the 4 reunion-days. Each T-shirt featured a photograph or illustration of an alien (Greyiloid or Saurian) on front, with some interesting text on back. All of the T-shirts clearly displayed my webpage’s URL, www.disclosureE.com.
When sitting down to lunch with people, or when they showed an interest in my Tshirts, I told people that I was wearing the T-shirts to see if anyone else from Caltech had been abducted. This is what I learned:
I didn’t find any other Caltech alumni who had been abducted.
Success: 5% of the people I talked to were interested in talking to me about aliens. Caltech alum are in the top 1% of geek-intelligence. 50% (?) are avid science-fiction fans. I suspect that everyone else (people in the nonelite-“geek” population) will be LESS interested in UFOs and aliens.
30% of the people I talked to were polite when I mentioned “abducted by aliens”. They changed the conversation to a different topic within a few minutes.
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November 12, 2011
30% changed conversation-topic immediately.
35% gave me incredulous looks, and never talked to me again.
A few people stared at my T-shirts and then quietly walked away. I have no idea how many people eyed my T-shirts from behind. This is the type of behavior I expected from people with secrecy agreements.
I came up with a hypothesis: Caltech (and MIT, and other) graduates interested in UFOs and aliens end up working for NASA, JPL, or other space corporations. Many are funneled into military-industrial-complex corporations after 5-10 years of NASA/JPL employment, where they work on classified projects. The most-intelligent most-UFO-enthusiastic “geeks” in the country may now be silenced by secrecy agreements. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massachusetts_Institute_of_Technology, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasa, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/JPL)
There are no mega-bookstores where I live. I stopped by a few megabookstores in Los Angeles. Out of 300-ish books in the “occult/spirituality” section, I only found 3 UFO books. I stopped by a new-age bookstore, and found only 10-ish UFO books, out of 10,000-ish books. Why are there so few UFO books?
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November 12, 2011
PESKY TRIANGLE-CLOUD Some photographs I took at Caltech:
Notice the triangle cloud pointing at the Caltech building. (The “triangle” cloud looks more like an arrowhead with a hole in the center.)
The same pesky triangle-cloud a few hours later. I optically-zoomed in on the cloud for the right photograph.
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November 12, 2011
AN ANNUAL EVENT Apparently, the Caltech reunion is an annual event for “alien” researchers. Hundreds of spy-bots are rented by “alien” PhD students, and flown around the reunion. Not only do the PhD students get a better understanding about what their own 20-year university reunion might be like, but they get to see what Earth-Sol’s brightest “geeks” are up to. The “alien” PhD students can then remotely follow the Caltech grads back to their workplaces on the west-coast, and observe their coworkers. This year’s event was particularly well-attended due to all of the “alien” militaries in the area. Here’s why:
There are 5000 non-disclosed Hominid planets in this taurosphere. There are (potentially) 500,000 non-disclosed Hominid planets in the war zone.
No-one knows what is happening on these planets, not even the Hominids who have ownership-interests in them. This lack-of-knowledge is particularly true for top-secret projects that the indigenous Hominid populations are participating in, such as the Aurora spy-plane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurora_spyplane)
Earth-Sol is one of the easiest non-disclosed planets for “aliens” and remotely-visiting Hominids to watch.
Caltech (and MIT, and others) are Dirac-deltas of both intelligence, and of people involved in top-secret projects. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirac_delta)
Head-hunter employment agencies are also interested in potential hires, in the event of “disclosure”.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY I added another story, Escaping the War, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. I can’t get away from the war. I first experienced the war as infantry, fighting the Alotians. After I died there, I became an apprentice-medic, but was evacuated/relocated. During my relocation spaceplane-journey, my transport was attacked by a Hominid battleship. Once-again killed, I am now sharing a body on Earth, watching the war approach.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (26/5/2011) THE MILKY-WAY GALAXY
Three more Hominid planets have been time-dunked in our third of the Milky-Way Galaxy. These have been used to measure signals from millions of possible futures, 1-to-6 years into the future.
One Hominid planet was in the process of being time-dunked, but a nonHominoid battlefleet attacked the time-dunk fleet. The Hominid planet is now floating in “green-space”. Instead of the night-sky being dark navyblue/violet like ours, their night-sky color is pine-green. No stars are near the misplaced planet; the planet’s population will freeze-to-death unless rescued.
A “Star Ladder” is very close to Earth-Sol, 25-ish parsecs away. It is a spiral of stars through five dimensions, that lets spaceplanes more-easily travel between the Andromeda Galaxy and K’ Tick Tuck (Lots of Stars). The Star Ladder also enables Saurians (and others) from the taurosphere above us, to travel into our taurosphere. Our taurosphere connects to other taurospheres. Our region of the taurosphere, in particular, has several hyper-dimensional connections to other taurospheres. The Star Ladder is a shared and neutral “construct”, by war-treaty. Hominoid militaries are threatening to block, take, and/or destroy the Star Ladder, in part, to impede the ore-transport and battlefleets of Saurians (and others). The Saurian access-way through The Six Kingdoms region has been impeded for hundreds of years. It has been mostly-impassable for the past 2 years due to the war. Access through a Lemur-evolved region on the west-side of our taurosphere is also threatened by war, as Hominoid militaries invade Lemur territory.
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November 12, 2011 Saurian battlefleets may (or may not) be taking-up positions in The MilkyWay Galaxy to defend the Star Ladder. This defense is in-addition-to the augmented defenses of “Arthropod” militaries, who do not wish their MilkyWay Galaxy planets to be destroyed when Earth-Sol and other nearby nondisclosed planets are expected to be fortified by the Hominoids half-way through the war.
PEACEKEEPER DISCUSSIONS FOR EARTH-SOL If the Saurians have decided to defend portions of The Milky-Way Galaxy, then:
Previous potential peacekeepers are no-longer as-acceptable to all parties. Toss-out any preliminary Earth-Sol peacekeeping-discussions.
The entire Milky-Way Galaxy could be held by a combination of “Arthropod” and Saurian forces, both of whom have interests in keeping Hominoids out of The Milky-Way Galaxy. If the Milky-Way Galaxy were fortified by “Arthropod” and Saurian forces, Hominids would not be able to fortify Earth-Sol and the surrounding 300parsecs, half-way through the war, as they have planned. Which means that peacekeepers on Earth-Sol wouldn’t be necessary. Which means that “disclosure” on Earth-Sol would be postponed once-again. But, clandestine UFO/spaceplane rescue-abductions might be able to resume.
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November 12, 2011
THIS TAUROSPHERE
The Six Kingdoms has been reinforced by Hominoid battlefleets.
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November 12, 2011
THE LOCAL HOMINOID-EMPIRE “NUB”
A
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1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
The blacked-crosshatched area is known to have a very-dense concentration of Hominoid battleships. The distribution tends to be vertical.
The grey-crosshatched areas have a lower-density of Hominoid battleships, above and/or below the plane of the map. They are also in the plane of the map.
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November 12, 2011
Alotian space is located over much of the grey-crosshatched and blackcrosshatched areas of the map.
The size of the Hominoid battlefleet lends weight to the Constantinople hypothesis, described earlier. The Hominoid Empire may be creating several Constantinoples to run in parallel, or may not-yet have decided on a specific Constantinople location.
The “wall” battlefleets that were at K-8 no-longer appear to be functioning as a “wall” formation. The “wall” battlefleets have merged into the larger back-crosshatched fleet.
Hominoid militaries are sending their fleets here, H-5 to L-9, to practice battling the non-Hominoid militaries in the area. The non-Hominoid militaries have been defending the area from the Hominoid militaries that began invading 3 years ago. For the last year, distant Non-Hominoid militaries have been practice battling the Hominoid militaries that arrived here 2 years ago. H-5 to L-9 are, to an extent, training-grounds for both Hominoid and non-Hominoid militaries to practice battling one-another. The real war is elsewhere at the moment. The Hominoid militaries may be planning to invade H-5 to L-9.
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November 12, 2011
THE LESS-LOCAL HOMINOID-EMPIRE “NUB”
AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH II
JJ KK LL MM NN OO PP QQ RR
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
The Hominoid battlefleet MAY intend to take our region, the inset box.
And/or, the Hominoid battlefleet MAY be moving-through our region to: o
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To retake territory taken from the Hominoid Empire 4000 galactic years ago.
November 12, 2011 o To attack/take “Reptiloid” and/or “Insectoid” territory nearby. o
To attack/take Simian territory, particularly the Simian Industrial Zone.
If the illustrated “Major Hominoid battlefleet movement-lines” are correct, the size of the Hominoid battlefleet lends credence to the Constantinople hypothesis, described earlier. The Hominoid Empire may be creating several Constantinoples to run in parallel, or may not-yet have decided on a specific Constantinople location.
The war is expected to last AT LEAST 20 years.
MORE STORIES, WORKS IN PROGRESS I am working on three new stories at the moment. I have uploaded them as VERYrough drafts. They are all “Works in progress”. http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY (30/5/ 2011) I added another story, Disclosure from the aliens’ point-of-view – Choice fiction, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. This is a “Choose Your Own Adventure” style book, where you participate in “disclosure” on Earth-Sol as an alien. You decide what your alien character does. See if you can help “disclosure” to happen smoothly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_Your_Own_Adventure)
ANOTHER STORY (5/6/2011) I added another story, Deaths at Azcruk, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. WARNING: This story is emotionally disturbing, at least for me as an author. In my humble opinion, while it is not as well written as Shirley Jackson’s, “The Lottery”, it is MUCH more macabre. The story is also sexually explicit. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Jackson, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery)
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November 12, 2011 I thought I was going to spend a year monitoring and helping “primitive” Cheetahevolved people. Half-way through my work-study-volunteer program, I was enslaved by the Hominids and transported to the planet Azcruk, where I was kept locked in an attic-storeroom by a battle-axe Hominid woman… and my only friend there asked me to help her commit suicide.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (9/6/2011) THE LESS-LOCAL HOMINOID-EMPIRE “NUB”
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1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
Elapidae have been in h-7, i-7 for nearly a thousand years, by previous treaty. 3 years ago, Elapidae began moving eastwards into Hominid space (i-7). There is now a major war at h-7, i-7.
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November 12, 2011
NO NEWS-COVERAGE ON A LOCAL HOMINID-PLANET On a local Hominid planet in the Orion Spur of the Milky-Way Galaxy, the war is NOT covered or mentioned in television news. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orion_Spur) Beginning 6 months ago, a 6-days a week, 2-3 hours-a-day prime-time sciencefiction soap-opera has gone on the “air” (cable television). It appears to be located and filmed in area j-7. The show’s format is:
50-plus Hominid and Aussie main-characters, soap-opera style. Story activities include friendships, romances, tragedies, deaths, and unlikely reincarnations. Unlike Earth-Sol soap-operas, there is no backstabbing amongst the characters. Sexual relationships are only alluded to by innuendo.
80% Caucasian Hominids, 5% non-Caucasian Hominids, and 15% Aussies are shown.
Despite Simian-slavery being common in the j-7 area, no Simian/Chimpanzee-evolved slaves are included in the television-show. Many media-zones have laws preventing slaves from appearing on television, so it’s wiser to produce a syndicated television-show without slaves as cast-members. “Animal”-people slaves are not shown either. Simplistically, “Animal”people slaves are only popular/legal on the fringes of the Hominoid Empire.
Two fighter space-combat scenes per hour, between the Hominoids and the Elapidae (and their allies)… somewhat cheesy special-effects.
Elapidae are shown being interrogated, and as individuals working with the Hominoids as peace-seekers. Twice an hour.
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November 12, 2011 Many scenes take place in Hominoid battleship interiors – which are mostly white, and filled with food dispensers, computer terminals, and microscopes. They do have motorized “swishing” doors.
An Elapidae (or Elapidae-allied) city is bombed every hour… often with cheesy special-effects.
Hominid cities are only bombed off-screen.
The show is one-year delayed in syndication here, approximately.
No infantry combat yet, but producers say that infantry-combat is coming in the next season.
Simplistically, this is the only war-news that the Hominids see on television. In general, local Hominids do NOT believe that the war has begun here yet. They are preparing for war though, expecting the Elapidae. The Elapidae are NOT (at the moment) a major enemy here. They are THE major enemy where the science-fiction soap-opera is filmed. Different races are enemies of the local Hominids, but they do NOT appear in the imported television-series.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY I added another story, Tyrannosaurs are peeping-Toms… and pranksters too, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. “They’re monsters when they’re little [children].” This is a short-story about a Tyrannosaur-girl and her best friend, their pranks, and their pranks get their house blown up.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (14/6/2011) THE LESS-LOCAL HOMINOID-EMPIRE “NUB”
AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH II
JJ KK LL MM NN OO PP QQ RR
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
Attacked by oncoming Hominid phalanxes, Saurian civilians and industries are fleeing from LL-3, and relocating to someplace near HH-8.
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November 12, 2011 Other non-Hominoid races are also mass-evacuating their citizens and industries, relocating to GG-8 to LL-9.
The intent of the Hominoid invasion is still unclear: o
They may be retaking territory lost 4000 galactic years ago.
o
They may be invading the Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved nations, from FF-9 to KK-13.
o
They may be performing a strong-arm “friendly” invasion of the Alotians, HH-1 to RR-7, above the 2D map-slice shown.
o
They may be performing a strong-arm “friendly” invasion of the Simians, KK-5 to RR-13.
o
They may be performing a strong-arm “friendly” invasion of the Ape-evolved nations, AA-3 to DD-13.
o
They may be regrouping from the Elapidae war, located just-above the current map.
o
They may be regrouping from other wars, further inland.
MILKY-WAY GALAXY
50-plus Hominid planets are being towed into the Milky-Way Galaxy as large aircraft-carriers and weapons-platforms (and for war-treaty advantages). The planets mostly-originate from Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck).
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November 12, 2011
THE ORION-SPUR OF THE MILKY-WAY GALAXY (WHERE WE ARE)
At least two previously time-dunked/moved Hominid-planets have resurfaced too-far away from a sun. They are now freezing. One of them is a major Hominid-planet, with a 500-million-plus population.
It appears that the local Hominid-planets have a balance-of-payments account with Hominid militaries. We think the Hominid-planets’ leadership requested that the militaries time-dunk some of their planets. Their planet-governments had enough “war-money” to pay for the time-dunks. The Hominid militaries may dislike the leadership on the local Hominidplanets. Consequently, we think the Hominid militaries recently fulfilled a contract bullet-item by delivering 20-million-plus slaves (per planet?) to the local Hominid-planets. The local Hominid-planets did not want the slaves; they already have too-many. $10,000 per slave x 20-million-plus slaves = $200-billion-plus (per planet?). This would reduce the planets’ surplus war-money balance, forcing the now-less-wealthy local Hominidplanets to accept lower-grade/duration time-dunks. Many of the “war-money” slaves have been taken from Coyote and Foxevolved planets near The Six Kingdoms. Many have been placed on the tobe-time-dunked planets, as well as the Hominid-planets that are currently freezing in sunless-space.
Two more nearby Hominid-planets have been time-dunked. One of them is a major Hominid-planet, with a 500-million-plus population.
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November 12, 2011 Over the past year, the local Hominid-planets have partaken in the destruction and pulverization of non-Hominoid planets in the Milky-Way Galaxy. They also have an incredibly high-percentage of enslaved people, 25% 30% of their population. The enslaved people wish to be freed. The Hominids won’t free the slaves, often due to intentional intra-Hominid legal/financial tangles. In retaliation, and to prevent further aggression, non-Hominoids have flung a small planet into one of the major Hominid-planets in the area. Since the planet has a non-molten core, the two planets are now gravitationally conjoined, with the smaller-planet gradually rolling-around the larger Hominid-planet. Approximately 3-billion Hominids died, as well as 1.2-billion enslaved people. The enslaved people have been given new bodies and are now free.
Recall the discussion “No News-coverage on a local Hominid-planet”, above. A second local Hominid-planet is also relying on a television-series to propagate the war-news. They broadcast a different science-fiction television series, which runs once-a-week for 3-hours. The science-fiction television-series includes Hominids working with Gorilla-evolved actors (most-likely enslaved). The Gorilla-evolved actors have acting-roles depicting them as free-and-equal members of a Hominid-Gorilla military-team based on a moon. The military-team defends the local star-systems from attacking Elapidae. Special-effects are cheesy. The series is believed to be filmed in e7, on the previous map.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINIDS THE NUMBER OF HOMINI DS IN THE MILKY-WAY GALAXY There are approximately 8-million stars in the Milky-Way Galaxy, not including reddwarfs and other less-inhabitable large rotund objects. Approximately 2.5-million stars have a planet that Hominids can inhabit. The other 5.5-million stars have planets that would require Hominids to live in sealed buildings, and to wear “pressure-suits” when they walk outside. The Milky-Way-Galaxy Hominids can be biome-categorized into:
Non-Disclosed – They live on Hominid-only planets. Approximately 10 planets x 1-to-3-billion people = 10-30 billion people. Most-likely 15-billion people.
Space-faring long-term residents – They live on Hominid-only planets, with non-Hominid “animal”-people slaves. Approximately 10 planets x 1-to-3billion people, plus 10-100-planets x 100-million people = 11-40 billion people. Most-likely 20-billion people.
Shipped-in immigrants (typically working as bot-controllers) – They live on non-Hominoid planets: civilized, multiracial, and “primitive”. They have mostly-arrived on the multiracial and “primitive” planets within the last 100 years, and the civilized planets within the last 5 years. They just land on a planet, and refuse to leave. 2.5-million planets x 0.5-to-5-million people = 1.25-12.5 trillion people. Most-likely 3-trillion people.
Invasion-force land-military – They live on non-Hominoid planets: civilized, multiracial, and “primitive”. They have mostly-arrived within the last 10 years. They just land on a planet, and refuse to leave. 2.5-million planets x 0.1-to-1-million = 0.25-2.5 trillion people. Most-likely 0.75 trillion people.
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November 12, 2011 Invasion-force space-military – They live on space-stations and battleships. They have mostly-arrived within the last 5 years. 8 million stars x 1000100,000 people = 8-800 billion people. Most-likely 40-billion people.
Flying planets – 8-million stars x 0.001 flying-planets per star x 0.1-10 million people = 0.8-80 billion people. Most-likely 8-billion people.
Simplistically put, none of the biome-categorized Hominids interact with Hominids from other biomes. Most individuals don’t know that other-biome Hominids exist. And if they know that they exist, they don’t like the other-biome Hominids, because they often feud with one-another. The biome-groups are often under COMPLETELYseparate command-trees. They don’t even know that they are all partaking in the same war.
COMPARING THE TAUROSPHERE-LOCAL HOMINIDS TO ONES FURTHER AWAY
Slavery is reportedly less-obscene further away, by at least 1/2 of a full standard deviation (1 of our standard deviations), perhaps 1 full standarddeviation (2 of our standard deviations). As far as which races are enslaved, local Hominids typical use enslaved “animal”-people, while distant Hominids mostly-use enslaved Simians and/or Ape-Evolved people.
The inland-originating science-fiction soap-opera discussed in “No Newscoverage on a local Hominid-planet”, doesn’t depict slavery or include slave-race actors. The second long-distance-originating science-fiction series, mentioned above, depicts FREE Gorilla-evolved people acting as part of a military team.
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November 12, 2011 The science-fiction soap-operas from The Six Kingdoms (and elsewhere nearby) sometimes include slaves and slave sex-scenes. (See the “Soap Opera” story in http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf).
A deeply random thought The Elapidae are called “SSSk” or “Sisk” by the Hominiods. They don’t like the name because it means “Shut up [rude]” in some Elapidae language.
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ANOTHER STORY (19/6/ 2011) I added another story, The White Wolf – A Romance, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. Wolfen (Wolf-evolved people) romances are very strange, especially when one of them stands on two legs, and the other-one is four-legged.
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WAR UPDATE (30/6/2011) LOOKING “NORTH” TOWARDS THE HOMINOID EMPIRE LAYER -1 – JUST WITHIN THE HOMINOID EMPIRE
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LAYER 0 – THE SURFACE OF THE HOMINOID EMPIRE
The Hominoid phalanxes cover nearly the entire map square.
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November 12, 2011
LAYER +1 – JUST-OUTSIDE OF THE HOMIN OID EMPIRE
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November 12, 2011
FROM THE HOMINOID POINT-OF-VIEW The Hominoid phalanxes could be perceived to be friendly forces by the Alotians, Simians, and Chimpanzee-evolved nations. Hominoid military-reinforcements would help to defend their people and territories from potential invaders: Elapidae, Crocodile-evolved people, Saurians, Goannas, Monitors, Insectoids, etc. Hominoid invasions of the mammaloids, Lemurs, and Nor could be seen as preemptory “neutralization” of potential enemies. “Disclosure” of Hominid planets (such as Earth-Sol) by non-Hominoids could be seen as a way for the non-Hominoids to befriend and occupy non-disclosed Hominid planets. Non-disclosed Hominid planets could also provide non-Hominoids with farmed-foods and mineral-resources. Near the alleged Constantinople, the Hominoid-military buildup could be seen as a defensive-measure, in case non-Hominoids invade.
OUR TAURO-TAUROSPHERE AND SURR OUNDING REGIONS The following races now have significant military-forces in our tauro-taurosphere and the surrounding regions:
Cat-evolved
Crocodile-evolved
Elapidae
Goannas
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November 12, 2011
Hominids (NOT the Aussies)
Horses (four legged) – (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Houyhnhm, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulliver%27s_Travels)
Monitors – Not the same as the Goannas. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumeril%27s_monitor - I think…)
People distantly related to the Greys – To us, they look similar to the Greys.
From http://www.aliendoodles.com
Tyrannosaur-evolved
Coalition of Insectoids – Most living on planets not compatible with our biology.
Cthulhuoids (hyper-dimensional, 4 – 6 dimensional) – Living on planets not compatible with our biology.
Jeweled spiders – Living on planets not compatible with our biology.
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November 12, 2011 Octopus-evolved (mentioned by H. P. Lovecraft) – Living on planets not compatible with our biology. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_Lovecraft)
Others (mentioned by H. P. Lovecraft) – Living on planets not compatible with our biology. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_Lovecraft)
Squid-evolved (mentioned by H. P. Lovecraft?) – Living on planets not compatible with our biology. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_Lovecraft)
The following races have significant forces nearby:
Alotians (perhaps allied with Hominoids)
Aussies (allied with Hominids)
Chimpanzee-evolved (perhaps allied with Hominoids)
Geckos and Chameleons
Simians (perhaps allied with Hominoids)
The following races are providing armaments to embattled mammaloids whose nations have been invaded by Hominoids. The mammaloids are acting like the French Resistance did during World War II. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_Resistance, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II)
Crocodile-evolved
Elapidae
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November 12, 2011 Geckos and Chameleons
Others
THE MILKY-WAY GALAXY
Lilac (1-billion-plus population Hominid planet in the Orion Spur) – Rabbitevolved nations bombarded Lilac with 100-ish 1-megaton to 10-megaton nukes. Lilac was hosting a very-large space and land military, preparing to attack/invade Saurians in the Andromeda Galaxy. The Hominid attack/invasion of the Andromeda-Saurians is in retribution for the destruction of the We-All Empire there, nearly two years ago. Another major Hominid planet in the Orion Spur had an equally-large attack/invasion force being prepared. That attack/invasion force quicklydeparted soon-after Lilac was attacked.
100-million-population Hominid planet – They received a devastating meteor-shower because they partook in the pulverization of someone else’s planet. 25%-ish of their population is enslaved mammaloids. 10% of the planet’s population is estimated to have died. The meteor debris-field in the planet’s orbit will result in annual devastating meteor-showers. The planet is no-longer habitable.
Invading Hominid planet – A small planet was hurled towards an invading Hominid planet, being towed from Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk). The hurled small-planet missed, but it was caught in the larger-planet’s gravity-field. It soon swung-back, and hit the larger planet. The devastating attack was used because the invading planet had extensive tunneling, many tunnels 100kilometers deep. The tunnels could not be easily destroyed any other way.
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November 12, 2011
Central administration planet in Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk) – This planet was extradimensionally flung through a nearby star’s corona. I have been told various numbers for the planet’s Hominid population: 1.9 billion, 14 billion, or 19 billion. The planet was a major war-control center. The devastating attack was used on the planet because of its 100-kilometer-deep tunnels. (See the main government planet, Trantor, from Isaac Asimov’s Foundation Series. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trantor, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Asimov, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Foundation_Series)
WAR UPDATE (10/7/2011) MIGRATION – FLEEING THE WAR Our region is one of the more-anti-Hominoid regions. Anti-Hominoid people (and races) are fleeing to our region (GG-8 to II-9 on the map) from all-around. The migrants include:
Mammaloids o
Cat-evolved people (and Cheetahs) – Both two-legged and fourlegged.
o
Horse-evolved people – Both two-legged and four-legged.
o
People from the occupied multiracial Mammaloid-zones
o
Wolfen – Both two-legged and four-legged.
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November 12, 2011 o
Miscellaneous – Civets, for example.
Nor
Saurians
Aquatics – Shark, Dolphin, Whale, and Dugong evolved.
Elapidae are migrating here as part of their military.
Some Alotians are expected to flee-migrate here.
Some Simians are expected to flee-migrate here.
Some Ape-evolved people are expected to flee-migrate here.
MULTIRACIAL MAMMALOID-ZONES The Hominoids are prodding Mammaloids to flee back-and-forth between the multiracial Mammaloid-zones. Such prodding mostly flushes-out the wealthy Mammaloids, who can afford to flee. When the wealthy Mammaloids flee, they useup their financial and spaceplane resources. Their flight also reveals which individuals have the best spaceplanes; Wealthy Mammaloids flee in very-fast very-stealthy veryexpensive customized spaceplanes. Fleeing Mammaloids are caught as they runthrough Hominoid “surveillance formations”. The Mammaloids’ spaceplanes are investigated and reverse-engineered by the Hominoids. The races/corporations that manufactured the spaceplanes are identified, and targeted for invasion/occupation/destruction. The captured Mammaloids are interrogated, 2810 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and/or taken hostage, and/or enslaved. Many of them keep money in Alotian(?) banks. Apparently, there is an Alotian(?) law that allows the Hominoid slavers to claim the bank-accounts of enslaved-Mammaloids who have links to violent organizations. Non-Hominoids use the same “surveillance formations” against Hominoids, except that they aren’t enslaving Hominoids (for the most part). Occupied people in the multiracial Mammaloid-zones are fighting back. This “insurgency” is causing a war bubble, attracting Hominoid militaries to the multiracial Mammaloid-zones. Since the Hominoids are using the Alotian nations as a base of operations, Mammaloids are now attacking Hominoid military-bases and settlements in the Alotian nations.
SIMIAN-NATIONS AND APE-EVOLVED-NATIONS Hominoid battleships are distributing themselves throughout portions of the Simian-nations and Ape-Evolved-nations.
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November 12, 2011
GECKO-NATIONS AND CROCODILE-NATIONS Hominoid battleships are stealthing into the Gecko-nations and the Crocodileevolved nations. In some cases, the stealthing Hominoid battleships may be originating from Simian-space and Ape-Evolved-space.
I DO NOT WANT TO WRI TE THIS DOCUMENT! I do NOT want to write this document, because no-matter how I write it, I (as an individual) lose-out. This document has three audiences of Hominoid readers:
Indigenous Hominids – 99% of the indigenous Hominids that read this document either ignore me (because it’s best to ignore the crazy-person in the room), deride me, or respond with statements/questions that show they haven’t actually read the document. I suspect that some people don’t send me feedback or ask questions because they may not be legally/safely able to admit to reading the document. For example: Authors cannot admit to reading the document because they are worried that I might sue them if I know they are using “my content” – which is NOT my content. Unfortunately, to reach the 1% of indigenous-Hominids that will perhaps believe me, as well as an audience of off-planet Hominids, I have to spam this message to many indigenous Hominids.
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November 12, 2011
Off-planet Hominids living on Earth-Sol – They will read this document with interest and trepidation, and never admit to anyone (especially me) that they have read it.
Hominids living on other planets – Hominids living on other planets will (potentially) read this document, acquiring the text in one of three ways: 1.
As people on Earth-Sol read this document, telepathy call-centre Hominids on other planets read their minds. (Most Earth-Sol Hominids are NOT monitored so closely.) The telepathy call-centre Hominids then write-up a short report, which goes into the Hominid mind-net (database).
2.
Off-planet Hominids on Earth-Sol who read this document mightperhaps-maybe summarize it, and text-message it to their bosses and relatives using non-terrestrial Men-In-Black devices, perhaps looking like pagers with mini-keypads. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_in_Black_(film) )
3.
As I have been telepathically-informed by the “aliens”… Our internet is wirelessly connected to seven-ish Hominid planets in this part of the Milky-Way Galaxy. Faster-than-light signals send internet data to-andfrom the other planets. There is a very-thorough firewall on the other planets though. At this point in time, the “aliens” believe that the firewall has prevented this document from reaching the space-faring Hominid planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firewall_(computing) )
In response to the mind-net reports, Hominids living on other planets will telepathically abuse me, telling me to keep my head down. Some will send me a barrage a venom-bots to emphasize the point.
So as I said, I lose-out by writing this document. 2813 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 But, if I don’t write this document, then statistically/probabilistically (0.00000000000000000001%), more Hominoids (on other planets) are more-likely to die “horribly and horrendously” as they make significant social and political miscalculations because they do NOT understand the non-Hominoid community. Hopefully, Hominoids that read this document will be less-likely to commit atrocities, such as illegal invasions, slavery, and genocide. I don’t like the war either.
THE PROBLEM THE HOMINID PERSONALITY The Hominid personality is part of “the problem”. The invading Hominids (living off-of Earth-Sol) are similar to the early American colonists. 10%-20% of them are sociopathic, compared to 1.8% of us. They are moreracist than people in the 1850’s deep-South. They are completely xenophobic. They always support the winning side. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_colonization, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sociopathic, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antebellum_Slavery) Most Hominids have roughly the same intelligence as Earth-Sol Hominids. Some are incredibly intelligent though. They are VERY socially-adept, with +30 social-IQ, -10 geek-IQ, and -20 creativity-IQ. The Aussies are MUCH-more intelligent than the Hominids, +30 to +50 IQ in all categories. They do NOT have infravision or ultravision as per Dungeons & Dragons. They are approximately as racist as the “northerners” in the United States in the 2814 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 1850’s. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infravision#Extraordinary_senses, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_%26_Dragons) Non-Hominoids feel that the Aussies should be 1 full-standard-deviation “nicer” than they currently are, if they wish to keep the same weapons-technology-levels. Non-Hominoids consider Aussies to be 0.75-to-1 full-standard-deviation “nicer” than the Hominids. Hominid weapons-technology-levels are slightly-higher than Aussie weaponstechnology-levels. Non-Hominoids feel that the Hominids should be 2 full-standarddeviations “nicer” than they currently are, if they are to maintain the same weapons-technology-levels.
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THE HOMINOID METAORG ANISM The Hominoid metaorganism is similar to the ones depicted in Nineteen-eightyfour, Brazil, Star Wars, and/or Brave New World. It is the complete-opposite of Star Trek. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nineteen_Eighty-Four, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brazil_(movie), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brave_New_World, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek)
The Hominid metaorganism encourages ignorance. Compared to nonHominoids of similar intelligence, Hominoids are poorly educated. Hominoids also have no relevant news-coverage of the war: They are led to believe that they are the offended party in the war, that they are NOT invaders, that they are NOT enslaving Mammaloids, and that the war hasn’t yet begun.
Money equals power, and power equals money.
Hominoid society is thought-controlled.
People do what they’re told, and keep their heads down.
The Hominoid metaorganism is a slaver society.
It is a war-based society.
The Hominoid metaorganism is turning into an invader/marauder society.
The Hominoid metaorganism makes Hominoids 0.5-to-1 full-standarddeviation “nastier” than they would-be living under Earth-Sol governments.
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November 12, 2011 Simplistically put, none of the Hominoids like living in the Hominoid metaorganism – which is why they move to Earth-Sol (or similar planets) when given the opportunity.
THE WAR METAORGANISM Hominids are kindling (dried wood) to the war metaorganism. Other Hominid-like races are Hominid-kindling alternatives, including the Aussies, Alotians, Ape-evolved people, Simians, and (potentially) other two-legged races WITHOUT fur. Races enslaved by Hominoids (Mammaloids, Ape-Evolved people, and Simians) are like oxygen to the metaorganism. In particular, enslaved Mammaloids fill specific needs: They can be permanently dominated/enslaved, they are militarily weak, they can be bred into “pretty” slaves, and they are edible in times of need. (“Pretty” slave comment: Due to “the uncanny-valley effect”, Ape-evolved and Simian-evolved people are ALWAYS perceived as “ugly” by Hominoids, and cannot be bred into “pretty” slaves.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley) The war metaorganism is burning through the Hominoids, and using the slaves as a combustion-gas.
When the war metaorganism finishes with the Hominoids, the warmetaorganism might mutate and burn through the Simians and/or Apeevolved people.
While burning through the Hominoids, the war-metaorganism might send out long tendrils, and begin burning-through similar-looking/thinking races living further away.
The war metaorganism might also produce and distribute “seeds”.
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November 12, 2011
Hominids participating as military in the war are 1-to-1.5 full-standard-deviations “nastier” than non-warring civilians. Hominid civilians in war-participating nations are 0.25-to-0.5 full-standard-deviations “nastier” than they would normally be. Hominids using remotely-controlled bots to kill people, or who kill people using missiles (from spaceplanes and unmanned-aerial vehicles), are 1 full-standarddeviation “nastier” than if they were killing people face-to-face. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_aerial_vehicle) Hominids are 1-to-1.5 full-standard-deviations “nastier” towards Mammaloids and Reptiloids than they are towards Hominoids and Alotians. They are 0.5-to-1 fullstandard-deviation “nastier” towards Simians and Ape-evolved people.
THE HOMINOID BATTLEFLEET The Hominoid battlefleet is part of the problem. It is artificially intelligent. Its artificial-intelligence wants the battlefleet to be used. The battlefleet also has an expiration date, encouraging use. Even without artificial intelligence and an expiration-date, weapons want to be used. Unintelligent rust-free swords eventually stab someone. Most of the high-tech elements of the battlefleet were purchased from nonHominoids. The Hominoids paid a LOT of money for their battlefleet. The Hominoids got the “money” to purchase their battlefleet by selling-off portions (two-thirds?) of the Hominoid Empire… to different non-Hominoids. Those nonHominoids purchased their portion of the Hominoid Empire for their own economic benefit, and so that they could genetically and culturally fix/correct the purchased Hominoid citizens… like they have fixed/corrected the Hominids on Earth-Sol and 2818 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 other non-disclosed planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lousiana_Purchase, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alaskan_Purchase) Hominoids in the sold-off portions of the Hominoid Empire were included in the sale as “semi-slaves”. Due to secret contractual negotiations, no-one knows which portion of the Hominoid-Empire was sold-off. The money was distributed somewhat-evenly to all Hominoid governments. Many used it to pay-off debts. Many Hominoid governments purchased-back some of their planets. A lot of the money went into the pockets of wealthy people. And a lot of the money was paid to non-Hominoids to purchase hightech weapons. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Privatization_in_Russia) Ironically: 1.
Many of the non-Hominoid weapons-sellers thought their weapons would be used by the Hominoids to bolster the defenses of the Hominoid Empire. The Hominoid Empire is under threat from other racial metaorganisms. Disappointingly, many of the weapons (paid for by the sale of portions of the Hominoid Empire) are now being using to invade, subjugate, and enslave the weaker non-Hominoid meta-races… such as the Mammaloids.
2.
The Hominoids who are invading and enslaving non-Hominoids here, might be the ones who were themselves sold into “semi-slavery” by their fellow Hominoids. Slave-taking by semi-slaves is seen as extremely hypocritical.
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November 12, 2011
THE HOMINOID COMPUTER The Hominoid Computer is vast. Every major (and secondary) Hominoid planet has one to thirty computer-cores installed on the planet. The cores are huge. They are buried kilometers underground, and are self-powered. They are practically invulnerable while Hominoids occupy the planet. Earth-moving and mining equipment can reach the cores, but only with the compliance of the Hominoids… and they never allow their Computer-cores to be dismantled. The cores communicate with one-another. They form one gigantic-enormous Computer, with vast artificial-intelligence. The intelligence is NOT sentient. Hominoids make-up most of the “sentient portion” of the Computer. Hominoids act as input/output devices to the Computer, as well as biological coprocessors. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borg_(Star_Trek), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Input/Output_Device, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coprocessor) The Hominoids take the computer-cores wherever they go, either moving entire planets, or implanting cores in new planets they occupy. Smaller cores travel with Hominoid battlefleets. The Hominoid-Computer controls the Hominoids (and non-Hominoids) through various methods, including: Telepathic instructions, subliminal telepathicsuggestions, employees directed by computer-terminals, financial manipulation, and many other methods. The Hominoid Computer has goals. Very-very-very simplistically, it tries to achieve its goals by running beam searches on every Hominoid (and every non-Hominoid) that it knows about. It tries to figure out every way it can potentially manipulate an individual (or group), and then predicts the outcome of the manipulations. The sequence of manipulations with the best-predicted outcome is acted upon. An everyday-life beam-search example: GPS route-finders use beam searches to identify the shortest/quickest route to a destination. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beam_search, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A-star_algorithm, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GPS_navigation_device) 2820 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Non-Hominoids think that the Hominoid Computer is so powerful that it manipulates and/or selects the Hominoid leadership. The Hominoid leadership is supposed to be immune and “invisible” to the Computer. Direct telepathic-control of the leadership is almost-certainly prevented by programmed rules. The Computer is “intelligent”-enough to work around limitations programmed into it. If there is no direct route to a destination only 1-kilometer away, GPS route-finders will invent 100-kilometer detours, if need be. The Hominoid-computer could control Hominoid leaders by controlling the people nearby/around them. If the Computer is programmed to not be able to control the leaders’ friends, relatives, coworkers, and neighbors, the Computer can control people further-away and more-indirectly. The computer could even influence television-news on distant planets in an attempt to influence Hominoid leaders. It might even cause a small war just to get attention. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Laws_of_Robotics) The Hominoid-Computer influences the people that control the people that modify the Computer’s computer-program. Do not let the fox design the chicken coop! No-one knows what the goals of the Hominoid-Computer are. They think that it is either trying to migrate, enlarge itself, propagate itself, or die… which is what any life-form tries to do.
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November 12, 2011
HOW “ALIENS” (AND OFF-PLANET HOMINOIDS) CAN MODIFY YOUR THINKING TELEPATHICALLY (VIA IMPLANTS, WHICH MIGHT BE IMPLANTED IN ONE-QUARTER OF EARTH-SOL’S POPULATION)
Communication, auditory – Auditory-nerves can be stimulated to mimic hearing. Voices are created using automatic language-translation, followed by very-good text-to-speech. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Text-to-speech)
Communication, telepathic thumps – “I think I want to eat at Wendy’s tonight. I don’t know why.” Or “After I prayed to God, I realized that I should vote for that politician.”
Communication, thought-sentences – They’re like thinking to yourself, “I first need to pick up some cheese from the grocery store,” except that they’re not your thoughts.
Creativity enhancement – “I just had an epiphany!”
Creativity suppression – Telepathic “pressure” can hinder creative “brainstorming”. Rather than brainstorming your usual twenty ideas, you might only brainstorm two ideas, neither of which are optimum.
Distractions – Just before you are about to discover/realize a new law of physics, a piece of fluff on your desk suddenly becomes interesting.
Dreams, inspirational – Dreams can inspire science-fiction and fantasy authors. Dmitri Mendeleyev’s dream supposedly inspired the periodic table of the elements. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Periodic_table_of_the_elements)
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November 12, 2011 Dreams, prophetic – “I dreamt I was in plane-crash, so I decided to drive instead.”
Freudian slips – “Why did I just say that? It was just a slip of the tongue.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freudian_slip)
Intuition enhancement – “For some reason, my intuition says that the butler did it.”
Intuition suppression – “My intuition says you’re wrong.”
Knowledge augmentation – “I just recalled. Deer are very-different from elk.”
Knowledge implantation – “I don’t know how I know it, but deer are verydifferent from elk.”
Knowledge suppression – “Damn, I forgot that deer are different than elk.”
Memory augmentation – “Luckily, I remembered to purchase a block of cheese when I was at the grocery store.”
Memory implantation – “For some reason, I remember wearing plaid when I was a child, even though I know that I never did.”
Memory suppression – “Damn, I forgot to purchase a block of cheese from the grocery store.”
Mental “partnering” – Two connected individuals can think as one person.
Mind-net (the database) – Implants can provide access to different organizations’ mid-nets (databases). Mind-nets are very-large onlineencyclopedias that can be “exposed” as artificial memories and knowledge.
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November 12, 2011 Moods, emotions, and feelings – “I don’t believe you,” and “This place freaks me out.”
Perception enhancement – “Oh, look! I just noticed a footprint in the corner!”
Perception suppression – “For some reason, I overlooked the footprint in the corner.”
Personal relationships, like/dislike – “I really like that guy,” or “I hate his guts.”
Puppeteering, physical – Have you ever scratched your nose without consciously deciding to scratch your nose?
Thought reading – Your thoughts can be read, even before you realize that you thought the thoughts. Keyword and key-thought spotting make it easy for an automated computer-system to monitor your thoughts. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keyword_spotting)
Tiredness – Just when you find time to hypothesize a new law of physics, your mind begins to wander, and you realize that you are tired.
Sequential-thought suppression – “If all trees are green, and all green things are edible, then are all trees edible?” “Wait, I didn’t catch that. Could you go over that again? … Never mind. That logic-puzzle is too complicated for me to solve.”
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November 12, 2011
CHEMICAL AND SURGICAL MODIFICATION
Chemical modification, mental – Over time, chemicals invisiblyadministered to people’s brains and souls can affect their intelligence, moods, personalities, and how they think.
Chemical modification, physical – Over time, and especially as children are growing, invisibly-administered chemicals can affect people’s appearances. People’s appearances affect how they’re treated, and how they behave/think.
Genetic manipulation – People’s “genes” can be modified throughout their lifetime. The same goes for their soul’s “genetics”. Both affect people’s thinking and intelligence.
Health, mental and physical – Anyone’s health can be modified. This affects their thinking, as well as how other people treat them.
Surgery, mental – Brain-damage can be mentally repaired. So can souldamage.
Surgery, physical – Holes in hearts can be invisibly repaired. Healthy people have different experiences than unhealthy people, and consequently think differently.
Surgery, soul-organ augmentation/modification – Soul “organs” can be added, removed, and/or chemically modified, making someone more/less intelligent, and/or changing their personality.
Surgery, soul-organ transplants – Portions of someone’s soul can be transplanted into your soul, providing memories, personality changes, and new thinking-abilities. Or vice-versa.
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November 12, 2011 Surgery, soul-organ transplants with awareness merger – People’s awarenesses can be merged-in with your awareness.
THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE
Computers – Computers can be hacked into by off-planet Hominids. NonHominoids can shut down our internet if they wish. Computers control information, and affect our thinking. The off-planet Hominids can access our internet from other planets. Theoretically, there are IP addresses on our internet that send data to other planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IP_address)
Descendents, artificial insemination and/or sterilization – People can be modified from generation to generation. Genes can be selected so that descendants think differently.
Descendents, selecting a mate – Telepathic thumps can encourage people to fall in love (or out of love), ultimately modifying the genetics and thinking of descendents.
Individuals – Even if your thinking isn’t modified by the “aliens” through telepathy and chemicals/surgery, people that interact with you can have their thinking modified. The modified people will affect you.
Infections – Viruses, bacteria, malarias, and “others” can be released into a population. A plague certainly affects people’s thinking. So does ill health.
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November 12, 2011 Institutions – Thought-modify enough individuals, and entire institutions can be modified.
Off-planet Hominids – Off-planet Hominids work in many sectors of our society. They can directly manipulate databases, businesses, and governments. “Alien” sleeper-cells might be doing the same. “Furries” working in the children’s-movie business are daily indoctrinating your children to like Greyiloids and anthropomorphic animals. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvin_the_martian, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ratatouille_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ice_Age_(film) )
Technology – Aliens (and off-planet Hominoids) can control the technology we have access to, which in-turn affects our thinking.
Technology, medical double-blind trials – Medical double-blind trials can be manipulated by venom-bot and medical-bot controllers. They can make cigarette-smoking appear to be healthy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Double-blind#Double-blind_trials)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 15/7/2011) MAJOR ASSAULT ON THE CAT-EVOLVED AND CANINE N ATIONS At the end of World War II, two nuclear-bombs were dropped on Japan. First was Hiroshima, with 70,000-ish dead, then Nagasaki, with 140,000-ish dead. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki) A few days ago, the Hominids in The Six Kingdoms launched a major attack on the Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved nations that border it. Hundreds of billions of people (Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved) died. The attack was approximately as bad as Hiroshima was to World-War-II Japan, where 70,000 out of Japan’s 71-million people died; 0.1% of the population. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II_casualties) The attack was launched, partially, because The Six Kingdoms incorrectly-credited the Cat-evolved nations with the surprise-attack on The Six Kingdom’s “hightechnology wipe-fleet”, mentioned here in January 2011. The “high-technology wipefleet” attack was largely undertaken by different, higher-tech races, who were concerned about their zones being “wiped”. The multi-gigaton “stealth missiles” mentioned in December 2010 were used in the attack. Launched half a year ago, many of them finally reached their targets. For the first time, Six-Kingdoms Hominid-television widely broadcast war-news… of their victorious attack. The Hominid-public in The Six Kingdoms now knows they’re at war. They didn’t know before.
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November 12, 2011
CAT-EVOLVED AND CANINE-EVOLVED NATIONS INIT IAL RESPONSES The Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved nations soon responded by attacking participating Hominid leadership working, living, and meeting in the Alotian nations. Alotian citizens, unfortunately, were the bulk of the casualties. Hominid leadership, governments, and militaries in galaxies neighboring the MilkyWay Galaxy have been warned of possible reprisals. Hominids in nearby galaxies also partook in the attack. The Hominid-military mentioned in June 2011, on Lilac and another nearby Hominid planet, may NOT have been intended to be used against the Saurians in the Andromeda Galaxy. They may have been intended for use against the Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved nations. More Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved military-responses are expected.
CAT-EVOLVED “EVICTION PSYCHOLOGY” The Cat-evolved media has been censoring and toning-down war-news broadcasts to their citizens. As stated previously, graphs and charts (without numbers) are shown to minimize the “emotional impact” of the news. All races have “breaking points” programmed into their personality genetics, where their personalities suddenly change. For example: Hominid individuals will become “angry” when mentally and physically abused. Their personality will significantly rotate-away from their normal personality-matrix. Another “breaking point” example: When Hominids are occupied, individuals (notnecessarily nations) “go terrorist”. Individuals take up arms, usually guns/rifles, and fight the occupiers. This fails. The individuals team-up into independent militias. They also fail, since the occupier is too-well trained, led, and fortified. With no chance of a 2829 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 victory against the occupation, militias often revert to the mass-murder of “enemy” civilians, who are soft targets. Bombs, gas-attacks, and biological-attacks are used. Cat-evolved individuals don’t “go terrorist”. Cat-evolved individuals have a different “breaking point” that leads to violence. When they decide that their neighbor is undesirable, they try to scare/intimidate them away. Failing that, they will, as individuals, kill their neighbors. The best way to describe the emotional-state is to find an Earth-video of a pride of female lions turning against an egregious male. (http://animal.discovery.com/videos/killer-clipslion-fight-2.html) The historically-notable attack a few days ago could not be censored by the Catevolved media. It was too large. As a consequence, Cat-evolved individuals (and militias) are expected to begin scaring/intimidating Hominid cities in The Six Kingdoms, followed by deadly nuclear and biological attacks. This behavior is NOT government sanctioned/supported.
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November 12, 2011
BATTLES FOR THE CORRIDOR
The attacks on the Cat-evolved and Canine-evolved nations, AND the Saurians in the Andromeda Galaxy are not solely for revenge-purposes. They are part of a larger Hominid-effort to control a transit-corridor in our taurosphere.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Many off-planet Hominids DO help with “disclosure”. Many work behind-thescenes, advising science-fiction authors/screenwiters and UFO-forum furumtrolls. Every time forum-trolls slam an “I saw a UFO!” forum-message, it rises to the top of the message list, and more people read it. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forum_troll) The “lets meander through the solar-systems and be friendly” attitude presented on Star Trek, is nothing like real-life Hominid spacefaring society. It is an ideal. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_trek) Television-series like “Firefly” are more-realistic. Star Trek’s scientificexploration and non-interference policy, are NOT the norm. Trade is more important. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firefly_(TV_series), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_Directive)
FURTHER READING You can continue reading these articles on: http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory3.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
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November 12, 2011 HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
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November 12, 2011
PERVERTING THE COURSE OF HISTORY 3
[email protected] [email protected] (Alternate E-mail) PO Box 378, Noonamah, NT 0837 Australia (Physical E-mail) Mike Rozak
Draft 1, 18 July 2011 Draft 2, 24 July 2011 Draft 3, 29 July 2011 Draft 4, 8 August 2011 Draft 5, 18 August 2011 Draft 6, 24 August 2011 Draft 7, 31 August 2011 Draft 8, 5 September 2011 Draft 9, 11 September 2011 Draft 10, 16 September 2011
Draft 11, 21 September 2011 Draft 12, 23 September 2011 Draft 13, 28 September 2011 Draft 14, 6 October 2011 Draft 15, 17 October 2011 Draft 16, 22 October 2011 Draft 17, 12 November 2011
PRELIMINARY READING Before you begin reading this document, you should first read my articles: http://www.disclosuree.com/AfricaEarth.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheReallyWierdStuff.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/TheNarrative.pdf
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November 12, 2011 http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory.pdf http://www.disclosuree.com/PervertingTheCourseOfHistory2.pdf optionally followed by http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf
HTML and Microsoft Word versions are available on http://www.disclosuree.com.
Never-ever prevent a contactee from getting off the planet; they will pervert the course of history.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Many photographs (and videos) of aliens that are leaked onto our internet are photographed on other planets. Our cameras and computers are exported in small numbers (10,000 – 100,000 per year) from Earth-Sol. It’s easy enough (but not necessarily legally-safe) for someone to slip a memory-stick with alienphotographs past Earth-Sol customs. After all, a single memory-stick can contain millions of family photos, to be legally distributed to their family-members living on Earth-Sol.
AWARENESS DREAM (18/7/2011) I had an awareness dream last night: I was standing in a doorway, looking down at a folding table. On the table was a phonebook, opened to the residential phone-numbers. (The residential phone-number pages were yellow, instead of Earth-Sol’s customary white.) I saw my hand, a Rat-evolved hand, looking through last-names beginning with the letter “B”. I couldn’t find the name I was looking for. The phonebook was blood-spattered. So was the table. Explosion debris was everywhere.
After having an awareness dream, I am often put in telepathic contact with the person whose eyes I was looking through. 2836 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 This is the telepathic message that I got: “Tell people that we just did a Twelve-Monkeys.” Which meant that “animal” people had escaped their imprisonment on a Hominid planet. Most-likely, the person’s friend was a Homo-Sapiens form Earth-Sol who had died, and who had their soul placed in an “animal”-person body. (See my short story, “After the “dead list” – I’m a deer”, on http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf.) The Earth-Sol person had been released into a non-Hominid village, and then enslaved by the Hominids. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/12_Monkeys) And then a really-weird telepathic conversation ensued: “Who knows, maybe this [telepathic] message was sent back in time, and caused Twelve-Monkeys to be written and filmed.” “Oh. That’s weird...” “[That can’t happen.] What year is it anyway?” “The present. The movie was filmed about fifteen years ago.” “Cool. Eh. I don’t really understand. But, if this message goes back in time, then tell Bruce Willis to not play the part so weird.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruce_Willis) “Too late for this reality. But there may be an alternative-reality with a more-sane Bruce Willis.” You do not ever want to be caught in a time-war. Nor do you want to make a movie about people caught in a time-war, while you yourself are caught in a time-war. Time-wars encourage self-referential recursive media.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (24/7/2011) CAT/CANINE-EVOLVED NATIONS BEGIN DISABLING THE SIX KINGDOMS
A second Pearl-Harbor attack on The Six Kingdoms – The first Pearl-Harbor attack on The Six Kingdoms occurred just-over half a year ago, initiated by non-Cat/Canine-evolved nations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearl_Harbor_attack) A few days ago, a major Hominoid computer-planet was plunged into a sun. Simultaneous attacks on other Hominoid computer-planets and communications infrastructure occurred at the same time. The subsequent communication-links reshuffle exposed the locations of the Marauder/privateer fleet parked in The Six Kingdoms. (The Six Kingdoms is a known “weapons bank”.) The Marauder/privateer fleet has been badly damaged. The reshuffle also exposed the still-being-deposited “Arm the region around the non-disclosed planets” fleet. They were also parked in The Six Kingdoms. That fleet has been badly damaged.
Hominids in Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) have been attacked – Widespread nuclear-detonation attacks against Hominid leadership have occurred. One planet has been flung through a sun. The Hominids in Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck) still have no mass-media newscoverage of the attacks.
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November 12, 2011
MULTIRACIAL MAMMALOID ZONES
Non-Hominoid paramilitaries are attacking Hominoids occupying (or previously invited-into) the Alotian nations.
Hominoids based in the Alotian nations are launching major nuclear strikes against Mammaloid planets.
Hominoid privateers based in the Alotian nations are demanding “tributes” of teenage girls, to be sold-off as slaves. The Hominoid privateers position battleships over non-Hominoid planets with desirable slave-races. They demand that spaceplanes be launched from the planet, fully-loaded with teenage-girl passengers. Teenage-girl slaves are the mostpreferred, because they are the most-adaptable and least-dangerous demographic of the population. The spaceplanes are escorted to Hominoid planets and death-stars, where the non-Hominoid teenage-girls are sold into slavery. Failure to “pay tribute” results in one or more nuclear detonations, originating from the Hominoid battleships. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tribute)
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November 12, 2011 Many enslaved Mammaloids are now being transported down to a large concentration of Hominoids (the “target centre” illustrated on a previous map) who are migrating into the Simians. Chimpanzee-evolved slaves and Simian-slaves are legally freed when they are brought into the Simian Nations. Consequently, Hominoid-wealthy leave their Chimpanzee-evolved slaves and Simian-slaved behind. They purchase “fresh” Mammaloid slaves at the border. The Simian Nations have imposed a limit of 1-ish slave per family. Since wealthy Hominoid families will want more than one slave, every migrating Hominoid is “investing” in a Mammaloid slave to take into the Simians, and to later sell. Privateers have been demanding “tribute” from some Cat-evolved nations for half a year, and Goat-evolved nations for a year.
ALOTIAN NATIONS
Reptiloid (and Cat-evolved) militaries are attacking Hominoid leadership and militaries in the Alotian nations. “Death stars” are being targeted and destroyed, to encourage them to “move on” and into the Simian Nations.
The Alotian news, once decent, is now censored by the Hominoids. Alotian comedy is not; Alotians now get their subliminal-news from jokes appearing in “Saturday Night Live”-like television-shows. The Hominoids living in Alotian space have even-less news, since they don’t get Alotian humor. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturday_Night_Live)
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought After I wrote-up the awareness-dream about the “Twelve Monkeys” film, I was telepathically informed that… (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twelve_Monkeys) Some Simians have six fingers. A classic Simian tale is called, “The Twelve Small/Tiny Monkeys”... rather than “The Ten Small/Tiny Monkeys”. A Simian Mossad-like intelligence and assassination organization is also called “The Twelve Monkeys”. They assassinate planets. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mossad)
GECKO-EVOLVED AND CHAMELEON-EVOLVED NATIONS
Hominoid militaries are now attacking and invading the Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved nations.
Many “non-disclosed” Hominid planets are located in the Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved nations. The Hominids there are being genetically corrected/fixed, just like the Hominids on Earth-Sol are being corrected/fixed. Hominid souls from deceased Homo-Sapiens on Earth-Sol are often transported to one of these “non-disclosed” Hominid planets.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Reptiloid prison-ships are currently being used as protective-custody housing for Mammaloids being hunted by the Hominoids. At some point, said prisonships will be used as prisons for Hominoids.
DISTANT CAT-EVOLVED ZONES
Simultaneous invasions, attacks, and evictions of distant Cat-evolved Zones are taking place, synchronized with the attacks on the Cat/Canineevolved zone in this taurosphere. This includes attacks on the Snow Leopards, Golden-Cats (distantly related to Lynxes), Golden Panthers, Leopards, and Jaguar/Leopard-zone. The attacks are most-likely simultaneous because Cat-evolved people help one-another out in times of war. Hominoids are zoologically-dim: Zeen (Tasmanian Tigers), Cheetahs, Smilodons, and Civets are also targeted.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Hominoid militaries are blocking Simian food-aid from reaching nonHominoids.
HOW TO BUILD A “DEATH-STAR” Real-life “Death stars” look an awful-lot like they do in the film, Star Wars, except they don’t have the large dimple in them for the planet-destroying beam-weapon. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Star, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars_Episode_IV:_A_New_Hope) They are up-to 400-kilometers in diameter. Their surfaces are covered with buildings, up to ten-stories high. Between the buildings are trenches. The area of a sphere is . So, a 400-kilometer-diameter death-star has a surface area of 500,000 square-kilometers. At approximately 5000 people per square-kilometer, that’s 2.51 BILLION people on a death-star. Militarily, death-stars act like a combination of aircraft-carrier, ice-breaker, and troop-carrier, with a self-destruct equivalent of a very-very-…-very-large nuclearbomb. They can also be used to migrate large populations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aircraft_carrier, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ice_breaker, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troopship) Inside every death-star is a spherical core of plutonium or other fissile material. The core provides the energy and mass for the death-star. Energy-extraction pipes are plunged deep into the core. “Painted” onto the core is a radiation-impermeable material, ten-ish meters thick. The buildings are bolted-on above that. 2843 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 A death-star is entirely covered with buildings, up to ten-stories high. They are used as living-quarters, storage, defense, life-support, and engines. The roofs of the buildings have field-plates on them, used as engines to push the death-star. The sides of the buildings also have field plates, enabling the death-star to rotate. The buildings are crudely built, mostly from very-thick iron. A death-star’s core is extracted from the centre of a planet. Heavy-metals sink to the centre of molten planets. Earth’s core is mostly gold(?). Some planets have mostly uranium, plutonium, etcetera. To make a death-star core, the outside of a planet is pulled/peeled off. The molten planet-core is detonated apart into globules. These are recursively detonated to the proper size, and allowed to cool for a hundred years. Death-stars are destroyed by plunging them into suns, ramming them into planets (in which case someone hauls them off and refurbishes them), or by sending a verylarge “pellet” in their direction to produce a very-very-very-…-very-large fissiondetonation. A slower approach is to destroy every-single building on the surface of the death-star with detonations.
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Hominoid individuals are being activated into war-mode through a combination the following methods:
Hominoids already have a preexisting genetic-propensity for racism. Earth-Sol’s Homo-Sapiens are half as racist as space-faring Hominids. Related to racism: If Earth-Sol is “disclosed to” by Caucasian spacefaring Hominids, and encouraged to enter the war, Non-Caucasian Homo-Sapiens are less-likely to side with the Caucasian space-faring Hominids.
War-propoganda television shows are aired, such as science-fiction soap-operas depicting a war against “the aliens”.
Hominoid thoughts are monitored via their telephathy implants. Hominoids are automatically thought-corrected by the Hominoid computer. A switch in the Hominoid computer-system encourages the masses to both dislike non-Hominoids, and to wish to enter the war. More-independent thinkers are assigned “botters” working in telepathic call-centres.
Botters (and police) harass, chemically-abuse, socially-abuse, and arrest dissenters.
Prions and chemicals in Hominoid food turn-on war-like behaviours, some pre-programmed into Hominoid war-bred genetics. Prions distributed by viruses might also be used. One reason why the Hominoids have taken control of the Alotians, is that the Alotians have historically produced and distributed quality food-items throughout the region, to both Hominoids and non-Hominoids. The food used-to be contaminant-free. Prions are washer-shaped meta-molecules with reaction-sites. They
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November 12, 2011 can be easily replicated within the body. Prions contain some of our genetics. Prions are small-enough and sturdy-enough to travel into people’s souls (their extradimensional bodies). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prion) Earth-Sol’s Homo-Sapiens are NOT war-bred. “Violence” and “sociopathy” prions are expected have one-third the effect on EarthSol’s population as they do on war-bred individuals.
Hominoids are paid to participate in the war.
Asymmetrical news-broadcasts show attacks on Hominoid planets, but not the Hominoid attacks/invasions of non-Hominoid planets.
Retaliation attacks by non-Hominoids further-encourage Hominoid individuals to enter the war.
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November 12, 2011
SPECULATION ABOUT TH E LARGER/FUTURE WAR THE LESS-LOCAL HOMINOID-EMPIRE “NUB”
a
b
c
d
e
f
g
H
I
j
k
l
m
N
o
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
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p
q
r
November 12, 2011
ZOOMING OUT FURTHER (INVASION SPECULATION)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
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November 12, 2011
From the side
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOID MIGRATION/INVASION DEMOGRAPHICS
Military, spacefleet / infantry, 5%
Miltary, botter / infantry, 15% Left behind, Caucasians, 30%
Migrating, Wealthy, 5% Migrating, Religous zealots, 5% Migrating, Marauders / privateers, 5% Migrating, Mafia, 5%
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Migrating, Aussies, 10%
Left behind, NonCaucasians, 20%
November 12, 2011
HYPOTHETICAL HOMINOID WAR-PLAN 1.
Migrating into the Simian Nations, Chimpanzee-evolved Nation, and Apeevolved Nations – The wealthiest Hominoids with the biggest/bestest weapons are migrating to the centre of the Simian, Chimpanzee-evolved, and Ape-evolved nations. This migration might be seen as a “friendly invasion”, similar to what would happen if North-American troops and civilian-adjuncts drove into Mexico to protect the Mexicans from the hypothetically-expansionary Chinese. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexico)
2.
Left behind in our region – Along the way, Hominoid phalanxes are depositing militaries, as well as less-desirable travelers/invaders. (“Oops.. We forgot to leave them a spaceplane so they could get off the planet.”) Hominoids being left behind include the Marauders/privateers, Military (botters and infantry), and the Religious Zealots.
3.
Left behind, Caucasians – They are left on their home-worlds to “guard the fort”, to produce food for the advancing phalanxes, to produce children for the advancing phalanxes, and to repair the advancing phalanxes.
4.
Left behind, Non-Caucasians – Non-Caucasians have been left-behind on their home-worlds, either because (a) they don’t wish to participate, (b) the participating Hominoids are racist and do not wish the non-Caucasians to participate, and/or (c) Hominoid-genetics rejuvenation treaties require/request that a sizable non-Caucasian population be excluded from the war.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought One of the reasons why we may not have been “disclosed” to, is that most of Earth-Sol’s population is non-Caucasian.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 29/7/2011) ZOOMING-OUT FURTHER (INVASION SPECULATION)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 This two-dimensional map should be five-dimensional.
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November 12, 2011
From the side
If the Hominoids do very-well in the war, they could:
Friendly-occupy the Simian Nations and the Chimpanzee-evolved Nations. The Gorilla-evolved Nations are already allied and/or friendly-occupied. The Simians, Chimpanzee-evolved, and Gorilla-evolved people would ultimately be incorporated into a greater multiracial Empire.
Retake the “Formerly part of the Hominoid Empire” region.
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November 12, 2011 Take the region between the Chimpanzee-evolved Nations and the Simian Nations.
This war is merely part of a larger Hominoid war. The Hominoid Empire has other goals beyond the local war.
If the Hominoids do very poorly:
The “dimple” at (3-5) could be turned into a very-large hole.
The land-bridge at ( 1-4) could be taken, isolating another region of the Hominoid Empire.
Our region (, 7) could be taken from the Hominoid Empire.
The Simian Nations, Chimpanzee-evolved Nations, Gorilla-evolved Nations, and the “Allied/occupied non-Hominoid” regions could be forcibly detached from the Hominoid Empire.
ZEEN ZONE Hominoids recently invaded the Zeen multiracial-zone (h, 5). The purposes of the invasion were to expel/subdue an enemy, genocide a race, capture Zeen weapons for Hominoid use, and to take-over Zeen manufacturing-planets. The Hominoid “Time Lords” (and they do call themselves that) stole tens-ofthousands of Zeen time-ships. Time-ships let their pilots monitor signals from possible futures, possible pasts, and alternative presents. Some of the stolen time2855 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 ships are very-good time-ships. Almost all of the time-ships are better/different than the time-ships that the Hominoids can themselves manufacture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_lord) One Zeen planet, with 500-million people, was blockaded by a Hominoid battlefleet. It was a manufacturing planet, with very-high-tech well-protected manufacturing bunkers deep-below the surface. If the Hominoids secured the manufacturing facilities for themselves, they would easily be able to kill tens-ofbillions of people with the weapons they would manufacture. After securing the planet, 500,000 Hominoid technicians, military, and “Time Lords” landed. They threatened that, if they weren’t allowed to land and loot the manufacturing facilities, they would horribly-kill everyone on the planet, and then kill people on a few-other planets. The Zeen allowed the 500,000 Hominoids to land and spread throughout their underground manufacturing-sites. And then the Zeen self-destructed their manufacturing sites… along with many of the 500,000 Hominoids. The Hominoids retaliated, and killed nearly-everyone on the planet… and large populations on some other planets. Before self-destructing, the Zeen issued an emergency-return beacon to their stolen time-ships… being flown by Hominoids. The time-ships returned to the soonto-be self-destructed bunkers on the planet. Many “Time Lords” died in the detonations. The Dalek’s had nothing to do with this. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dalek, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_who)
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November 12, 2011
MORE NON-HOMINOID ZONE-INVASIONS
The Hominoids have invaded the Furred-Saurian zone.
The Hominoids have invaded many Elk/Deer zones.
A randomly deep thought What percentage of UFO-ologists are off-planet Hominids hired to control the UFO “industry”? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ufologist) What percentage of self-alleged alien-abductees are off-planet Hominids (who weren’t actually abducted) hired to misdirect the legitimate UFO-ologists? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_abduction)
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November 12, 2011
WAR HISTORY 2004-2006 In 2004-2006, Hominoids attacked-assassinated Mammaloid political-leadership, military-leadership, and Hominid-relationship envoys. The attacks (a) turned the Mammaloids against the Hominids. Mammaloid political-and-trade envoys that specialized in relationships with the local Hominids were targeted. The envoys’ deaths (b) destroyed any trust-relationship the local Hominids had with the Mammaloids. Here’s why: For the most part, the envoys’ bodies were killed, not their souls. The local Hominids don’t know that bodies are replaceable. To a Hominid, all Deer-evolved-people look and smell the same. The local Hominids verified the identities of trusted Mammaloid envoys using on-the-spot photographic and genetic comparisons. When the assassinated envoys arrived at peace-talk meetings, wearing new bodies, the photographic and genetic tests failed. The local Hominids suspected deception. The trust-relationships were voided.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The Big Book of Monsters – These are published tomes of alien races, similiar to the Dungeons & Dragons “Monster Manual”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_%26_Dragons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monster_Manual) Most BBM-tomes include the 1000 most-popular races, usually sorted by kingdom, phylum, then class. The Hominid “Big Book of Monsters” is sorted by which races they consider to be the most-dangerous, and hence, which races they would-most like to genocide/extinct. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kingdom_(biology), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phylum, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Class_(biology) ) Most race-description entries cover one or two pages. They include a naked full-body photograph from the front. Side-on and dissection photographs are optional. The rest of the page describes “Monster Manual” details, including “Hit Points”, “Armor Class”, “Alignment”, and where the races live. E-book versions include videos, audio, and extended information. By the way, “Dungeons & Dragons”-style games are played in about 20% of all alien non-computer societies. People stop playing pen-and-paper roleplaying games when video-games technology matures. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roleplaying_game)
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN-RACE SKETCHES (PART 1) EDAPHOSAURUS(?)-EVOLVED UNIVERSITY-STUDENT
Her back has two somewhat-parallel sails, NOT one. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edaphosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Permian)
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November 12, 2011
GOAT-EVOLVED
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November 12, 2011
STARGATE UNIVERSE Australian-television airs American television-series a year or two after they appear in the United States. The series are often allotted odd time-slots, with no advertising whatsoever. I only just noticed “Stargate Universe” on television, half-way through the second series. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stargate_Universe) I have only watched a few episodes of the second series, and a few from the fist series (by purchased-DVD). The science-fiction in Stargate-Universe is noteworthy:
The pilot begins with Eli Wallace, who is approached by “top secret” United-States government-officials. Eli Wallace, who is a gamer-geek, had solved an “ancients” encryptionmystery hidden in a computer-game. No (classified) scientist on Earth-Sol had been-able to solve the problem. Eli Wallace’s successful results had been automatically internet-wired to the United-States government, triggering a visit from the top-secret Stargate officials. Within two minutes of their arrival, Eli Wallace is railroaded into a trip aboard the StargateUniverse spaceplane… “You are an IQ asset. We are taking you now, whether you like it or not. We’re sure you’ll like it.” This struck me as odd. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/America's_Army)
Eli Wallace walks-away from the non-disclosure agreement that he is requested to sign. After closing his door on the top-secret officials, Eli Wallace is teleported to the spaceplane while walking up his staircase, to his bedroom. That would be kidnapping, not a good way to hire a hopefullyloyal employee. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-disclosure_agreement) By the way, teleportation while someone is in motion up a staircase is actually quite-difficult to do. Teleportation is easier if the person is standing still on level ground. And it isn’t really teleportation, just extradimensional dislocation into an extradimensionally-offset invisible-and-ethereal spaceplane or spaceplane “elevator”.
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November 12, 2011 Eli Wallace appears on the deck of a spaceplane, where he learns that the United-States military has been travelling in space for years, and has already set up a base on another planet. It’s kind of a, “Welcome to our world. You are now one of the cognoscenti. You should feel privileged. As it turns out, national-security has nothing to do with non-disclosure. We haven’t “disclosed” to the Earthlings because we are elitist snobs.” This struck me as odd.
95% of the team has American (or Canadian) accents. Wouldn’t something as important as a star-gate have an international team? The French would certainly demand a representative, not the mention the Russians, Chinese, and Germans.
Eli Wallace is introduced to a senator. Of course, the senator is part of a “privileged class”, and Eli Wallace is respectful to him. Most Americans (and most American senators) do not think their senators belong to a privileged class, nor do they show them respect. This senator’s presence on the spaceplane, along with his daughter’s presence (nepotism), struck me as odd.
The team-members are VERY military. This struck me as odd.
The show is obviously a science-fiction soap-opera.
The first episode included a sex scene. This struck me as odd.
In the first episode, the enemies attacked without notice or provocation. No-one knew/stated why. Perhaps the Americans had built their base on someone else’s planet? None of the Americans reflected on the reason for the attack. The lack of self-reflection struck me as odd.
Most of the technology in Stargate-Universe is of “alien” and “ancients” origin. Apparently, Hominids are incapable of producing their own valuable technology. The Stargate-Universe Hominids were VERY-good at figuring-out
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November 12, 2011 how to use any alien technology they discover, though. This struck me as odd.
The characters uses an “ancients” device that lets them remotely-control someone else’s body. Search through this document for “Avatar™ technology”, “puppeteering”, and the short-story, “Tyrannosaurs are peeping-Toms… and pranksters too”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_technology_in_Stargate#Communica tion_device_with_stones)
In real-life, the ancients’ camera-balls are ethereal and invisible. They DO come with small throw-away control-panels, though.
Most Earth-Sol science-fiction is targeted at viewers with social-IQ’s of 50. The science-fiction series have few main-characters. The characters do NOT get into realistic personal-conflict with one another. Their personalities and histories are static from episode to episode. All-in-all, the main-characters are boring and soporific to everyone, except people with social-IQ of 50, like me. Stargate-Universe has many-more main-characters, with complex personalities, and complex conflicts, targeting a social-IQ of 110. This struck me as odd for Earth-Sol science-fiction.
The Stargate-Universe Hominids regularly withhold important information from one-another. For example: In an early episode, a “sand” alien is wandering-around the ship. The temporary commander orders everyone to their quarters, but doesn’t say why. Essentially, “There is no need to panic the crew. They are utter morons. And knowing that a sand-alien is marauding-around won’t help solve the problem.” Consequently, poordecisions are made by uniformed crew. This struck me as odd.
The Hominids regularly lie to one-another. This struck me as odd. In times of group-stress, Homo-Sapiens tend to put-aside squabbles with one simple
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November 12, 2011 phase: “Look, we have a problem. We need to work-together to solve this problem.”
The Hominids in Stargate-Universe bicker and backstab throughout every episode. They always pull-together just before every episode’s end, and overcome the episode’s obstacle. Farscape had a similar-level of animosity, but at the 50 social-IQ level. In a way, Farscape crew-animosity was morebelievable. There were only six people on Farscape’s Moya. If any crewmember were forcefully evacuated-out the airlock, someone-else would notice. With 100-ish people on a spaceplane, no-one would notice the airlock victim’s absence for weeks, and it might be a few more weeks before anyone would make a formal report. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Farscape)
Stargate-Universe’s “ancients” look like an attempt at a fish-evolved race, kind-of. (We’re evolved from mudskippers, so technically, we’re fish-evolved also.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mudskipper)
For most science-fiction viewers, one key “feature” of science-fiction is that the protagonists interact with “aliens”. Consequently, in most sciencefiction, 30% of the main-characters are alien. All of the main-characters in Stargate-Universe are Hominid. Later in the series, one is mentally “overtaken” by an alien intelligence/personality. The alien intelligence/personality is seen as dangerous. The “no alien crewmembers” struck me as odd.
The aliens in Stargate-Universe seem to either be neutral or hostile. In most science-fiction, the aliens range from friendly, to neutral, to hostile, tending towards friendly. This struck me as odd.
By the way, the “ancients” who made the spaceplane would be monitoring ALL happenings aboard their “abandoned” ship. They would not pass-up the opportunity to study the Hominid visitors. They would telepathically record the thoughts of all individuals at all times. Locations, movements,
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November 12, 2011 audio, and video would also be archived in detail. They would also manipulate the thoughts of the crewmembers (and television-show screenwriters) to more-fully understand Hominoid personalities.
WHY YOU DON’T WANT TO BUILD HIGH-RISES OR DENSELYPOPULATED CITIES Here’s why you don’t want to build high-rises, build densely-populated cities, or have any-more than a few-hundred million people living on a planet.
Nuclear-bomb area-of-effect (*)
Non-Hominoid cost-and-size (Approximate)
Hominid costand-size (Approximate)
1 ton – Half of a house
2 cm diameter, $25
Unknown. Most-likely, the size and cost of a nonHominoid 10ton bomb.
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November 12, 2011 10 tons – One house
5 cm diameter, $50
Unknown. Most-likely, the size and cost of a nonHominoid 1kiloton bomb.
1 kiloton – One multistory building, or one suburban block.
10 cm diameter, $1000
Unknown. Same as a nonHominoid 10kiloton?
10 kilotons – One non-hardened high-rise, or a few suburban blocks.
15 cm diameter, $10,000
Unknown. Same as a nonHominoid 100kiloton?
100 kilotons – One high-rise city block, or nine suburban blocks
20 cm diameter, $100,000
Unknown
1 megaton – A few high-rise city blocks. (Slightly larger than the air-burst Nagasaki-bomb, 22 kilotons-TnT. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nagasaki_bomb)
25 cm diameter, $1 million
Unknown
10 megatons – Ten high-rise city blocks.
35 cm diameter, Price classified
Unknown
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November 12, 2011 100 megatons – One high-rise business district.
50 cm diameter, Price classified
Unknown
1 gigaton – One large city. (Slightly larger than the air-burst Tsar-Bomba, 60 megatons-TnT. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsar_Bomba)
100 cm diameter, Price classified
Unknown
30 gigatons – A tiny country.
Classified
Unknown
It only costs $1-million to destroy $1-billion of Earth-Sol high-rises. $10-million if you don’t have a permit. Furthermore, arsenal prices fall significantly after a war, when surplus arsenal ends-up on the civilian market. (On higher-technology planets, high-rises and other buildings are significantly-cheaper to build.) Simply-put, one irate billionaire with access to alien technology could either destroy most of Earth-Sol’s downtowns, or half of Earth-Sol’s energy infrastructure. How many billionaires are there on Earth-Sol? (1210 in 2011, according to Wikipedia.) What is the annual-probability that one of the billionaires becomes irateenough to purchase $1-billion worth of arsenal? How many billionaires are there on other planets that might wish to harm Earth-Sol’s population? Non-Hominoid and/or Hominoid. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billionaire) (*) The area-of-effect listed is “massive structural-destruction”. It does NOT include minor structural-damage (where the building is left standing), fire damage, or window breakage. The listed nuclear-bombs do molecular-cohesion and displacement damage, rather than fireball damage. “Alien” tonnage ratings are 5times to 10-times greater than our-own TnT-tonnage rating. Furthermore, explosives detonated on the ground are MUCH-less effective than explosives detonated at an optimal height in the air, like the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinitrotoluene, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki)
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November 12, 2011
THE PROBLEM (PART 2) MAKING HOMINIDS MORE-INTELLIGENT Hominids, as a race, have genetic limitations that prevent the race’s intelligence from being safely augmented above a median 115-IQ. What follows is a very-simple synopsis of the basic problems encountered when raising a race’s IQ:
Raising IQ by preventing less-intelligent Hominids from breeding – If lessintelligent Hominids are prevented from breeding, simple-genetics implies that the median IQ of the race will rise. A sudden intelligence-boost occurs within a few generations. However, two-thirds of the intelligence-boost disappears a few generations later, as counteracting-genes mix to produce less-intelligent children. This genetic pruning-method produces marginal improvements in IQ, at the expense of too-much “character” being eliminated from the Hominid personality. Descendents become “boring” and/or incredibly “nasty”. Successively pruning a population magnifies the “boring” and “nasty” personality-problems, with increasingly-marginal IQ-gains.
How about creating hyper-intelligent Hominids? – A reserve of lessintelligent Hominids can be maintained. The most-intelligent Hominids from the population can be bred, producing hyper-intelligent Hominids. When their descendents become “too nasty” or “too weird” (as noted above), a new “batch” of hyper-intelligent Hominids is created from the reserve of less-intelligent Hominids.
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November 12, 2011 Hominid society (almost?) always decays into one where “intelligence = money”, and “money = power”. On Earth-Sol, we call this “free-market capitalism”. If any Hominids are more than 30 IQ-points more-intelligent than any-other Hominids in the economy, then sociopathy-traits prove to be too-“profitable” to the intelligent individuals. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Free_market) The intelligent sociopathic-Hominids will take-advantage of the lessintelligent Hominids, without the emotional-burden of guilt. They will then use their power over the less-intelligent Hominids to take-control of the intelligent NON-SOCIOPATHIC Hominids. Non-sociopathic Hominids will let sociopathic-Hominids structure a society so that the trodden-upon low-IQ individuals are not seen. For example: “Wage slaves” in China produce clothes and televisions for wealthy people outside of China. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wage_slavery) Hominids cannot safely be-made more intelligent by creating hyperintelligent Hominids.
Direct genetic-modification – A race’s genetic-code can be modified directly to augment their IQ. This is not trivial though. Genes are SO OPTIMIZED and SO INTERRELATED that genetic-modification effects are subtle, and not-noticed for tens of generations. Intelligence “blind-spots” and personality-flaws can only be truly-identified by a “test of reality”, NOT by easily-given synthetic school-like tests. Consequently, after genetic-code modifications occur in a society of Hominids, the Hominid society needs to “rest” for ten-ish generations, to identify significant intelligence “blind-spots” and personality-flaws. Direct genetic-modifications also produce erratic effects when the descendents of the genetically-modified individuals have children, and their children have children. Genetic-modifications to a race must be
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November 12, 2011 “baked” for a few generations, to test the effects of interbreeding the genetic-modifications. Meanwhile, genes of disagreeable individuals must be pruned slowly and regularly. Excessive pruning, the quickest option, ultimately impoverishes the race. Along with the “test of reality” and “baking”, the society’s culture/government must be adapted to deal with “disagreeable individuals”. Every group of Hominids has its own varieties of disagreeable individuals. Earth-Sol has alcoholics, criminals, and sociopathic-CEOs. Conversely, alcoholism and criminal-behavior are rare in space-faring Hominids, but sociopathy is common. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alcoholism, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Criminal_behaviour, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chief_executive_officer) After completing the “test of reality” and “baking”, Hominid-intelligence is once-again augmented, and the whole process is repeated, over-and-over again. Direct genetic-modification only works with isolated small-populations on “incubator” planets. Modifying 1030-plus Hominids all at once, is far-too expensive, and far-too risky.
Skillfully-administered direct-genetic-modification (combined with a few other techniques) can greatly-improve Hominid intelligence… over tens-of-thousands to hundreds-of-thousands of years.
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November 12, 2011
MAKING HOMINIDS LESS-INTELLIGENT 500,000 years ago, Hominids were “quite reasonable”. Unfortunately, Hominids made very-good workers. Other races/metaorganisms allowed and encouraged Hominids to produce enormous populations, so that Hominids could undertake enormous-amounts of work. The enormous Hominid population could NOT be externally-monitored by nonHominoids. The Hominids became numerous-enough that they could clandestinelymodify their own genetics. They didn’t have the intelligence, knowledge, and wisdom necessary to properly accomplish the task, though. The Hominids ended-up turning all-of-themselves into “boring” and “nasty” individuals with a large IQ-variation, encouraging sociopathy. Since Hominids were so populous, they “invisibly” turned very racist. The most-migration-prone, most-nasty, most-intelligent, most-sociopathic Hominids tended to gain power over other Hominids, throughout the galaxies. These “elite” Hominids then encouraged the “production” of low-migration, lessnasty, medium-intelligence, non-sociopathic, racist follower-Hominids. (Highintelligence Hominids tend not to “follow”.) When expecting war, the “elite” Hominids encourage the production of HIGH-MIGRATION, NASTY, mediumintelligence, SOCIOPATHIC, VERY-RACIST, follower-Hominids. To compliment the problems, other races/metaorganisms found it useful to manipulate the Hominids for their own ends, using them as front-line soldiers in proxy-wars between themselves. Proxy-war supporting-races often furtherencouraged the Hominid population to swell, and then provided the Hominids with dangerous weapons-technologies… so that the Hominids could attack the donatorrace’s enemies. Once the Hominids had done their part in the proxy-war, the Hominids used their remaining high-tech donated-weapons to invade the societies of more-advanced races. This pissed-off the invaded races. The Hominids acquired the invaded-
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November 12, 2011 society’s weapons-manufacturing technologies, augmenting the Hominids’ manufacturing abilities, and making the populous Hominids even-more dangerous. The pissed-off races did what they could to “roll-back” both Hominid weaponstechnologies, Hominid population-sizes, and Hominid IQs, so they couldn’t produce and/or use weapons as efficiently.
HOW HOMINID GENETICS RELATES TO THE WAR ( PART 1)
Having become “nastier”, more-sociopathic, more-racist, and lessintelligent over the last 50,000 years, Hominids have become invaders, slavers, and genociders. Many Hominid leaders/individuals wish to partake in the war because they are, quite-simply, “nasty”, sociopathic, and racist. Also, Hominid leaders/individuals are NOT intelligent-enough to comprehensively comprehend-and-predict the consequences of the war, particularly since their racist-isolation prevents them from predicting the reactions of non-Hominoids.
Nastier, more-sociopathic, more-racist, and less-intelligent Hominids make more enemies. Many races/metaorganisms wish to evacuate all Hominids from their local-region, which usually results in a war followed by pogroms of the Hominids. There are LOTS of local regions. Unfortunately, Hominids hold vendettas for thousands of years. Evacuating Hominids, engaging in war with them, or pogroming them inevitably results in the belligerent return of (other?) Hominids within a fewhundred years, with multiplied vengeance. Here’s the scary part: There is no point in evacuating, fighting, or pogroming Hominids unless their belligerent return can be prevented. There’s no point evacuating, fighting, or pogroming Hominids until one’s
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November 12, 2011 neighbors are willing to do the same, creating a buffer-zone. Inductively, there’s no point in one’s neighbors doing the same, until their neighbors are willing to do the same. Ad infinitum.
Metaorganisms will fight. This war is part of that fighting.
The Hominoid Empire may be trying to expand, so that it can betterdefend itself from other large-metaorganisms. This might be a war intended to prevent a future war, or to enable the Hominoid Empire to survive a future war.
The Hominoids are still being used in a proxy-war between moretechnological races/metaorganisms.
MAKING HOMINIDS ONCE -AGAIN MORE-INTELLIGENT Direct genetic-modification efforts were undertaken to make the Hominids lessnasty, less-sociopathic, less-racist, and more-intelligent. Incubator-planets, and tensof-thousands of years, are a MUST for direct genetic-modification. Incubator planets were cordoned-off. The first rule of Hominid incubator-planets is: If an incubator-planet has spaceplanes, all of the high-IQ (and high-exploration) Hominids will migrate away. Consequently, “incubator” Hominid-planets are kept low-tech… at least spaceplanewise. If they’re low-tech spaceplane-wise, they must be low-tech in other areas, for reasons I won’t discuss here. On Earth-Sol, we call incubator-planets “non-disclosed” planets. 2874 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 No-one will tell me what the second rule is. The third rule of Hominid incubator-planets is: Space-faring Hominid populations must be prevented from migrating to the “incubator” Hominid-planets. Some Hominids like migrating to other planets, particularly onto “stay-away-from-here” incubator-planets. Indigenous Hominid-society falls-apart with the mass-arrival of the high-tech migrating Hominids, who usurp political-control almost-immediately. The arriving high-tech Hominids have historically ignorantly-sterilized all of the disagreeable indigenous-Hominids (such as alcoholics and criminals). They then sterilize the low-intelligence indigenous-Hominids. And then all of the indigenousHominids that disagree with the sterilization process. And then they kill-off the veryintelligent indigenous-Hominids who might threaten the migrants’ power-base. The only indigenous-Hominids remaining, are turned into “agricultural engineers” and factory workers. Space-faring Hominids cannot be prevented from migrating to incubator Hominid-planets, particularly when they are provided advancedtechnology by other Hominoids/races, and particularly during a massive war. The Nth rule of Hominid incubator-planets is: Some space-faring Hominids realize that the incubator-planets are creating their replacements. Ideally, old-Hominids (the space-faring ones) will not reproduce their genes, but will have children from artificially-fertilized new-Hominid embryos (from the descendents of “nondisclosed” Hominids). Space-faring Hominids are VERY-VERY family-oriented. They want a nuclear family with two NON-ADOPTED children. Many spacing-faring Hominids see the artificial-fertilization plan as “candy-coated” genocide. Being “nasty” and sociopathic, some have decided to kill-off the “non-disclosed” Hominids on the incubator planets rather than letting themselves disappear. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuclear_family)
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November 12, 2011
HOW HOMINID GENETICS RELATES TO THE WAR ( PART 2)
Some non-Hominoid races/metaorganisms desire the war so that artificial fertilization of new-Hominids can continue. The war will/should weaken the Hominoid Empire. Artificial-fertilization is more-easily-accomplished on Hominid planets removed/isolated from the Hominoid Empire.
Mass-Hominid-casualties during the war, along with lowered war-time birthrates, should hopefully diminish the genes of Hominids attracted to the war.
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November 12, 2011
FURRED-SAURIAN PARTHENOGENE SIS Some high-tech races do NOT give birth. Furred -Saurians “clone” younger versions of themselves by intermixing genes from two-or-more females, and perhaps one-or-more “primitive” males. They do the same for their souls… and their awarenesses. The children of Furred-Saurians are “born” as pre-teens. To make the transition from non-existence to instantteenager easier, knowledge and personality implants are embedded in the Furred-Saurian children. Furred-Saurian children “wake up” already knowing how to walk, speak, read, and solve mathematical equations. They also have an artificial “past”, like the Replicant’s artificial-past in the film, Blade Runner. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blade_Runner) Over time, a child’s implants are “turned-down” and eventually disabled, allowing the child free-will and their own personality.
WAR UPDATE (8/8/2011) Not this week.
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November 12, 2011
TIME-WAR MECHANICS (PART 2) WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE FUTURE? Why do you want to know the future?
For reasons of comfort.
To make your life predictable and boring.
And so that you can change the future. To change the future, you need to be aware of several possible futures, and how you could get to each one. Once you have determined which decisions-and-events lead to desirable and undesirable outcomes, you can change your decisions (or the events) to avoid those outcomes.
TIME-SIGNALS Light is a “signal”. Simplistically, for purposes of this discussion, light is a signal that propagates in three-dimensional space, XYZ, at the speed of light, c. In other words, at a given time, t such that t > 0, light is always the shell of a sphere with radius tc, unless interfered with. Other signals propagate differently. A “time-signal” does not propagate in XYZ. It propagates forwards and backwards in time, T, instantaneously… kind of. Some comments:
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November 12, 2011 The greater the length of T, the lower the time-signal’s “energy” is, and the less-fidelity it maintains, both because of background-noise overwhelming the time-signal, and because it loses coherence/fidelity.
T is not a scalar (one-dimensional number). It is not even a vector.
Time-signals propagate minimally in XYZ. While the “energy” of light attenuates at 1/d2 in XYZ, the “energy” of a time-signal attenuates muchmore severely. The XYZ-location is (mostly) relative to the nearest/largest mass… kind of.
To transmit a time-signal from the future: 1.
“Hold out” a time-signal antenna.
2.
Send the proper particles (NOT tachyons!) through the antenna, and a time-signal will be transmitted. The time-signal can be encoded using “amplitude modulation” (AM radio), “frequency modulation” (FM radio), or other methods. The “radio frequency” must be selected randomly for every timeline, so that time-signals from multiple timelines don’t interfere with one-another. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amplitude_modulation, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frequency_modulation)
To receive time-signals in the past: 1.
“Hold out” the same kind of antenna.
2.
Listen to all frequencies (AM-radio or FM-radio) that you expect to be used. There might be a million frequencies, or more.
3.
Save the time-signals to a database, from the millions of frequencies, corresponding to millions of possible futures.
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November 12, 2011 4.
Employ pattern-recognition to group the million alternative-futures into thousands of predictions. Pay special-attention to the most-likely mostcritical predictions. For example: One future time-signal might predict an earthquake on January 5, at 10:15 PM, while a different-one predicts the earthquake to happen on January 5, at 10:16 PM. Realistically, both predictions are the same, and should be grouped together. Less-critical information is often discarded. The 10:15 PM earthquake also includes a factoid about John (a “time-subject” – see below for a definition) eating a ham sandwich. The 10:16 PM earthquake has him eating a pastrami sandwich. Did John’s sandwich-selection affect the earthquake’s timing?
DATA COLLECTION IN THE FUTURE Before a time-radio signal can be sent from the future, someone must collect data from the future to be rebroadcast. Data is typically sourced from:
Public broadcasts – Television and radio. Cable-TV is much-more difficult to monitor. So are digital broadcasts.
Bots – The signals from remote-controlled bots (similar to unmanned aerialvehicles) can be transmitted back in time. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_aerial_vehicle)
Other time-signals – Other time-signals can be decoded, bundled into a signal-package with other collected signals, and transmitted back in time. An enemy’s time-signals, predictions, and prophecies are often included.
Repeaters – People in the future can monitor and collect signals from their future. These can be sent back in time. However, the time-signals become
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November 12, 2011 less-and-less reliable every-time a message from the future is “copied” and sent backwards in time. Using repeaters is like borrowing money to purchase shares-derivates. Derivatives are themselves leveraged based on a share’s price. The shareprice is leveraged based on the company’s revenues. The company’s revenues are half-leveraged on the company’s physical-and-employee assets. That’s three-and-a-half generations of leveraging. Organizations that employ that much leveraging either win (not earn) a lot of money, or gamble it all away. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derivative_(finance), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leverage_(finance) )
Time-corporation employees – Employees of the time-corporation, in the future, can collect information to be transmitted back in time.
Time-subjects – The thoughts, actions, and locations of specially-selected people can be read through special “time implants”. Such people usually DON’T know they are being tracked-and-monitored. Time-subjects are often influential people, like political and military leaders.
Zigzag – Communications can be sent further-back into the past than the actual past-listener, and then sent-forwards. And then backwards. And then forwards… Zigzagging reveals what is happening in alternative presents. (There are more-efficient ways of learning about what is happening in alternative presents, by the way.)
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought The YouTube video of someone (a Daewoo?) in a time-bending encounter-suit disappeared. I have uploaded a copy here. http://www.disclosuree.com/TimeBendingWithCamera.MOV. Sorry about the large size (340 MB), and the chintzy video-capture job. (Old YouTube link, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrt41Ziz71c&feature=related)
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DATA ANALYSIS IN THE FUTURE There is ALWAYS too-much data to send. Far-more data can be collected than can be transmitted back in time. Someone in the future, perhaps just an automatedcomputer, needs to analyze the data, simplify it, and send the analyzed-data back in time.
The greater the number of alternative-futures observed, the less data there is per alternative future.
The further the signal needs to travel backwards in time, the less data there is per alternative future.
The less-hackable the signal is, the more encryption that is required, and the less data that can be sent per alternative future.
The larger and more-powerful the time-signal transmitter-antenna, the more data there is per alternative future.
The larger and more-powerful the time-signal receiver-antenna, the more data there is per alternative future.
The better the technology, the more data there is per alternative future.
Since resources are always limited, less-than-ideal data-analysis is always used: a)
Least-expensive: A simple automated computer-program in the future sends-back data, unanalyzed.
b) A complex automated computer-program is preprogrammed in the past, specifying what data to analyze, and what type of events to search for. The data is collected and analyzed in the future using “artificial intelligence” and “pattern-matching”. 2883 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_intelligence http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pattern_recognition) c)
A low-skilled employee in the future performs data-entry. They act like speech-recognition and vision-recognition coprocessors to a computer. They type-in what they hear and see on television broadcasts, as well as transcribing telepathy eavesdropping-sessions. Low-skilled employees can also perform “reality verification”. They might eavesdrop, “All of the orange-trees in New York City are in bloom.” Unlike a simple artificial-intelligence, low-skilled employees would realize that this was nonsensical, and perhaps a code-phrase, because there are no orangetrees in cold-climate New York City.
d) A low-skilled employee in the future analyzes the data. They watch television, listen to radio stations, and eavesdrop on people’s minds. Once a day, they fill in a multiple-choice questionnaire. Computer terminal: “What disaster happened today? (a) An earthquake, (b) A war, (c) None of the above, (d) Nothing.” Low-skilled employee: Types-in “b”. Computer terminal: “What race fought in the war? (a) Saurians. (b) Reptiloids. (c) Mammaloids. (d) I don’t know.” Low-skilled employee: What letter would you select if Sharkevolved people were in the war? Half of the future-observers would select (b), half (d), and a small-percentage would select (a).
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November 12, 2011 e) Most-expensive: A skilled employee in the future analyzes the data. Not only do skilled employees do a better-job analyzing the data, but:
Skilled-employees can do more than fill-in multiple-choice questionnaires. They can write essays!
Skilled-employees can seek-out data that they weren’t originally tasked to seek out. Their original “mission statement” might be to listen to television from Planet-X. However, a skilled-employee might realize that Planet-Y is broadcasting more-interesting news, and redirect their attention there.
Skilled employees can poke the timeline, by communicating-with and contacting other people.
Skilled employees have two significant disadvantages over low-skilled employees:
Skilled employees are less-numerous and/or more-expensive.
For reasons not discussed here, skilled-employees are almostalways more-moral. At the very least, low-skilled (less-intelligent and ignorant) employees are unintentionally less-moral; ignorantparents will feed their children soft-drinks instead of water. Lessintelligent employees are often knowingly less-moral.
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MULTIPLE-CHOICE QUESTIONS TO ANSWER Low-skilled employees (and artificial-intelligence computers) are typically provided a list of multiple-choice questions to answer every-day. Skilled-employees not only answer multiple-choice questions, but they have fill-in-the-blank questions, and “essay assignments”. Inventing a list of questions to answer is an art in itself. In the earthquake and hamor-pastrami sandwich example, IS IT important to know what kind of sandwich John eats? If the sandwich question isn’t in the question-list, low-skilled employees won’tever transmit the sandwich-factoid back in time. John’s selection of ham-sandwich versus pastrami-sandwich would most-likely be irrelevant for a natural earthquake. However, his sandwich-selection might cause him to visit the toilet sooner, delaying a terrorist, who walks into the toilet-block a minute later. Such a delay might affect the detonation-time of a “slippery bomb”, detonated near an earthquake fault to induce an earthquake. The future is typically monitored over a period of time, say from 2010 - 2020. The survey-questions can be written-and-rewritten over a preceding period of time, from 2000 - 2010… 1.
Someone in the year-1999 invents 40,000 questions out of the total, 100,000. The first 40,000 questions are answered by the future-observer from 2010 – 2014.
2.
In the year-2002, the question-inventor listens to 2 years of answers from the 2012 future-observer, and then spends 2-more years reformulating new questions, based upon what might have-will-been happening in 2010 – 2012, and what actually happened in the year 2000 – 2002.
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November 12, 2011 3. In 2002, 20,000 new questions are transmitted to the futures. (Emphasis on plural “future”.) The time-observer in the future, split into a million alternative-timelines, will answer the new questions over the course of 2014 – 2016. This procedure can fail:
Time-transmission errors are possible.
From the future-observer’s point-of-view, the future-observer might receive 20,000 new questions from an alternative-past that they have never experienced, perhaps one where the Roman Empire never fell. This gets really weird for them. And even weirder for people in the past, when they receive the future-observer’s answers. Multiple-choice answers are rendered meaningless, and essays become nonsensical but entertaining. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_Empire)
4.
Meanwhile, enemies are intercepting and changing the batches of 20,000questions so that future-observers unknowingly do work for them. Enemies also listen-to the transmitted questions, in an attempt to understand what the future-observer’s organization is looking-for, planning, etcetera.
5.
Repeat for 2016 – 2018, and 2018 – 2020.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought The people formerly known as Greyiloids, who were formerly known as peopley formerly known as Greys, who were formerly knows as Greys, wish to be currently known as Greys. (They NEVER wish to be called “Greylians”, however.) They have not-yet decided on what RGB-colour to use, or the specific trademark font...
Greys
Greys Greys Greys GREYS Greys
INTERFERING WITH DATA-COLLECTION IN THE FUTURE Enemies can interfere with data-collection in the future:
Someone a few-hundred-years before the future can ensure that television/radio news is censored in the society being monitored. This prevents future-observers from getting-access to such easy information.
Signals from bots and individuals can easily be blocked or modified. Even encrypted signals can be hacked-into and modified.
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November 12, 2011 Time-corporation employees in the future can be killed, sometimes before they were born.
Time-subjects can be killed or flown far-far-away. (See below for a description of time-subjects.)
Time-signals broadcast from the future to the past can be jammed, or hacked-into and modified.
The time-pilot in the past can be killed.
Messages from the time-pilot in the past, to their political/military leadership, can be interfered with.
DATA ANALYSIS IN THE PAST Once the time-signals are received in the past, they must be analyzed. 1.
Data from 1,000,000 possible futures might arrive in batch. They are analyzed by pattern recognizers, artificial-intelligence systems, and people. The team looks-for an important end-result (“Did the planet have an earthquake?”). The team also searches for sub-results (“Who won the baseball world-series?”), and predictive-rules (“How does sandwich consumption affect heart-attack rates in the future?”). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_intelligence, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pattern_recognition, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Series)
2.
The more-intelligent the observers are in the future, the more-difficult the data analysis. The future-observer may have been tasked with listening to signals from Planet-X. However, half of the alternative-timeline versions of
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November 12, 2011 the future-observer may have decided upon their own direction, and listened to Planet-Y instead. The two datasets, Planet-X versus Planet-Y, are apples versus oranges, making data analysis more-complicated. AND, there had to will-have-been a damn-good reason why someone decided to disobey directives, and listen to Planet-Y instead. That might mean that Planet-Y’s information is (or will be?) so compelling that anything from Planet-X should be ignored. 3.
Even if 100,000 of the 1,000,000 alternative-futures results in an earthquake, that doesn’t mean that there is a 10% chance (100,000 / 1,000,000 * 100%) of an earthquake. There are ALWAYS inbuilt statistical collection-inaccuracies, as well as enemies intentionally causing statistical inaccuracies.
4.
The more time spent analyzing data, the more-accurate the analysis will be. But it will be less-timely. In war, timely analysis is critical… as well as is accurate analysis.
5.
No-matter how much data is collected, it all gets analyzed into one paragraph that is E-mailed to political/military leaders. That’s it. That’s all they will ever read.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Some annoying time-pilot won’t stop-bothering me until I warn Earth-Sol’s political-leadership that, Israel could be invaded over a long-weekend by its neighbours. This would have dire world-wide economic-effects. Crudelypreventing such an invasion might also have dire world-wide eceonomic-effects. Welcome to the time-war. Oh yeah, and, er... California could “fall into the ocean”... but you already knew that. An 8.5-ish earthquake is possible on the west-coast of the United States.
WHY YOU NEED A REALLY-GOOD RANDOM-NUMBER GENERATOR Future-observers make decisions that affect the data they collect, which affects the timeline that they are on. These decisions might be as innocuous as when to visit the toilet. A toilet-break might cause a future-observer to miss an important remark from someone they’re eavesdropping. Or perhaps the future-observer could answer a multiple-choice question wrong because they were filling-out the questionnaire while watching their favorite science-fiction show. Future-observers also make decisions that affect the timeline they’re in. They aren’t ever in a perfect “bubble” of isolation. They may call a friend. They might stepoutside their time-chamber, visit a restaurant, and abuse a waiter after a particularly bad day. Or, they might intentionally “tweak time”, by telepathing time-subjects, or getting news-stories broadcast. The future-observer’s aggregated-decisions take the person down different branches of a “time tree”. It isn’t really a tree, more of an intertwined vine, and it isn’t really that.
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November 12, 2011 If a future-observer is ENTIRELY predictable, all alternative-time versions of them will visit the toilet at exactly the same time, in every possible future. Which means that all one-million versions of the future-observer will radio-back the exact-same answers. To solve this problem, future-observers are prompted by very-good randomnumber generators. The random-number generators tell the future-observers when to visit the toilet, when to abuse a waiter, and when to get a news-story broadcast.
TIME-BALLS A time-ball is a small sphere-shell, of very-pure gold (or other materials). Their diameters typically range from 10 – 50 centimeters. When “energy” is applied to the sphere-shell, time-balls propel themselves to a “location” (still at the same XYZ-coordinates) where time passes very slowly. While in “slow-time”, time-balls experience 1 year of normal-time as 10 – 40 years of their time. Located in “slow-time” (as well as “fast-time”), time-balls can more-easily, and with less-energy, send-and-receive time-signals. Two time-balls are used to send a message through time.
In the future, a time-ball receives a transmission from normal-time, and verifies its authenticity. It then zooms into slow-time, and transmits the time-signal at a randomly-preselected frequency.
In the past, a time-ball zooms into slow-time, and listens to the time-signal “spectrum” until it has recorded complete-messages from most of the timesignal “frequencies”. The time-ball then returns to normal-time, and broadcasts the same signals (with some processing and encryption) to an antenna in normal-time.
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November 12, 2011 The time-ball in the past MUST be in the exact-same XYZ spatial-location as the time-ball in the future. If not, the past time-ball will miss the pin-pricksized signal.
Time-balls can also zoom into “fast time”, for different uses. They can also zoom in different “time-useful” directions. Time-balls can only be used once, before their gold-molecules fall-apart.
TIME-SPHERES A time-sphere is a spaceplane designed to travel into “slow-time”, where one year of normal-time takes the time-pilot 10 – 40 years of his/her time. Time-spheres move (relatively) very-slowly in XYZ-space. From within a time-sphere: 1.
The pilot monitors time-signals, beamed directly at his/her time-sphere.
2.
The pilot programs-and-deploys time-balls. The time-balls descend deeper into “slow-time”, collect time-signals data, and then return to the timesphere’s “time-depth”.
3.
The pilot analyzes the data from time-signals and time-balls. They have PLENTY of time to analyze signals, as well as play solitaire and computergames. Being a time-sphere pilot is lonely and boring work. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patience_(game) )
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November 12, 2011 4. Transmission time-balls are deployed from the time-sphere, to send timesignal messages back in time or to normal-time. Time-spheres can transmit time-signals directly, but they become easy targets once they have done-so.
TIME-DUNKED PLANETS Planets, along with everyone on them, can be “time-dunked”. To someone on a time-dunked planet, every year of their time is 40 – 160 years of normal-time. As a planet is time-dunked, people on the planet see their sun and nighttime-stars disappear. Glowing sphere-clouds illuminate the dark starless-sky for a week or two. Those slowly disappear over a few nights, and the planet “wakes up”, hopefully orbiting around a new star. A time-dunked night-sky looks like Vincent Van Gogh’s, “The Starry Night”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Starry_Night, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vincent_van_Gogh)
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November 12, 2011 Here’s my impression. Vincent Van Gogh’s is better.
To someone observing a time-dunked planet from normal-time, the planet turns invisible and ethereal for a few years. Planets are time-dunked for the following reasons:
Time-dunked planets are difficult to attack during war. They’re often used as a way to protect civilians. To the civilians, the war begins. The civilians see a glowing night-sky for a few weeks. When a new sun appears one fine morning, it’s a few years later in normal-time, and the war is over.
Time-dunked planets can be used to help predict the future. See below.
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To use a planet to predict possible futures: 1.
Time-dunk the planet into “fast-time”.
2.
At the same time, launch hundreds of time-spheres into “slow-time”. They are positioned opposite the planet, with a star centered between them and the planet. Once time-dunked, the planet disconnects from the star’s gravitational pull. The same happens with the time-spheres. The star will NOT remain centered between the planet and the time-spheres. If it did, time-dunked planets would perform much-better as time-devices.
3.
At the beginning of the time-sphere’s time-journey, the time-sphere pilot answers questions about the current “state of the world”. At the 2%-mark, the information is time-signal transmitted towards the planet. The signal
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November 12, 2011 reaches the planet about 5% of the way through the planet’s time-dunk. A much-weaker version of the signal reaches the planet 95% of the way through the planet’s time-dunk. 4.
Throughout the time-sphere’s time-journey, the time-sphere pilot answers questions about the “state of the world”, as collected from time-signals and time-balls.
5.
At the end of the time-sphere’s time-journey, the 98% mark, the answered-questions are time-signaled to the planet by the time-sphere. Strong versions of the signal reach the planet 95% of the way through the planet’s time-dunk. Much-weaker, but more-important versions of the signal, reach the planet 5% of the way through its time-journey. The planet, being a very-high-quality very-high-energy very-large antenna can accurately receive time-signals from the time-spheres. Due to the planet-antenna’s quality, energy, and size, the time-spheres’ time-signals to the planet are very-difficult for an enemy to jam/hack.
6.
The time-signals received by the planet at the 5%-mark are analyzed, and transmitted to normal-time, predicting what will happen several years in the future. The most-likely most-important prophecies are E-mailed to political-andmilitary leaders.
7.
The planet’s citizens can be used as very-unskilled time-observers. They can help verify that the time-signals received at the 5%-mark aren’t nonsense-data. Throughout the planet’s time-journey, time-dunked citizens can listen to signals rebroadcast from normal-time, acting as speech-and-vision recognizers. At the 95%-mark on the planet, the analysis of the planet’s data-collection effort can be back-transmitted to the time-spheres. They
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November 12, 2011 receive the signal at their 2%-mark, and time-ball transmit the information to normal-time, in the past.
Time-dunking a planet is dangerous:
The planet, at best, ends up in a different solar-system, with an unfavorable orbit.
At worse, it ends-up outside of a solar system (where it will freeze – like Pluto… but Pluto wasn’t time-dunked), or in a sun. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pluto)
People’s bodies and souls on the time-dunked planet are injured by radiation.
Flora and fauna don’t like time-dunking either.
TIME-SHIPS A time-ship is a spaceplane designed to collect and transmit time-signals. In most ways, time-ships are superior to time-spheres. Time-ships are not sphereshaped though. They are always pointy. Time-ships can easily move-about XYZ-space. Time-spheres don’t move much.
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November 12, 2011 As they move, time-ships can “rotate” to point their antenna towards time-signals from different timelines. There are a near-infinite number of “angle-dimensions” that time-ships can “rotate”-and-point towards. Time-spheres are omni-directional antennas. Time-ships are mobile directionalantennas. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omnidirectional_antenna, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Directional_antenna) Pointing a time-ship at a time-signal originating-from a specific timeline is like wandering through a forest (at night) with a directional radio-antenna, and a dead flashlight-battery, trying to track flying bats wearing radio-collars… Except that it’s more-difficult. Time-ships are very-good at “focusing-in” on a small set of alternative-futures, all “close” to one-another. A time-pilot might focus-in on alternative-futures where a February-earthquake is caused by a sub-surface “slippery-bomb”. Any-other significant time-events would be ignored by the time-pilot. When normal spaceplanes move in XYZ, they encounter objects that they must avoid, such as planets, asteroids, and spaced Coke-bottles. Time-ships must avoid similar objects while traveling through XYZABC space. ABC are extra dimensions accessible because the time-ship rotates-and-moves itself outside-of topologically-ordinary XYZspace. Time-ships routinely travel in extradimensional-directions where no-one has gone before. Hence, the “walking through the nighttime-forest” analogy. As time-ships travel outside of ordinary XYZ-space, the laws of physics change, often unpredictably. Time-ships must be built very-tough (like off-road vehicles) and very agile. Since time-ships are inevitably used in time-wars where they are shot-at, timeships must-also be armored. Time-ship pilots stay in their time-ship for 1 – 5 years of their time, but only a few weeks of normal-time. Here’s where the “dark forest” analogy works very-well. Imagine a night-hike (or nighttime off-road drive) through a mountain-forest, crowded with trees, boulders, and ravines. After walking (or off-roading) through the unmapped forest for 1 – 5 years, the time-ship and pilot end-up on-top of an unnamed mountain, “the earthquake event”. The time-plot spends a few hours 2899 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 radio-monitoring all of the radio-collared bats in the area, “what happens AFTER the earthquake.” Loaded with data, the time-pilot time-signals his/her results to normaltime, a rendezvous-restaurant somewhere in the distance. Time-pilots can continue following one of the timelines branching off the earthquake, if they wish. Once they have finished their mission, time-pilots spend a few-more years returning to normal XYZ-space, “the sealed-road”. Figuratively, time-pilots have to walk (or drive) all of the way back to a sealed road, avoiding trees, boulders, and ravines. Only when they return to the rendezvous-restaurant do they learn if they followed a timeline that anyone actually cares about. Hiking and off-roading through a forest is dangerous. It’s best to travel with a few people, just in case you get into trouble. Time-ships are no different… except that time-ship pilots can hike (or off-road) with themselves, from alternate-realities. Time-ship pilots can talk to their “nearby” alternate-reality selves, recommending to themselves the best way to get around obstacles, like fallen-trees, boulders, and ravines. They also keep track of how many alternate-selves are still alive; if too-many of themselves die in a “region” of space, the living-selves slow way-down, and often back-out.
TIME SOUL-SLAVES Time-ship piloting is stressful for the bodies and souls of time-pilots. In particular, if time-ships are attacked, not only is the person’s body likely to die, but their soul is also likely to die… leaving them without intelligence or memory. The technology to “harden” time-pilots’ bodies to the stresses of time-ship piloting is relatively low-tech. Hominoids can do this.
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November 12, 2011 “Time-hardening” souls is more-technological. Hominoids haven’t yet figured-out how to time-harden their souls to the rigors of time-ship piloting, particularly if their time-ship’s hull is breached. Some soul-races, naturally, or through millions of years of genetic modifications, have “time-hardened” souls. To be competitive, Hominoid “Time Lords” implant soul-organs harvested from time-hardened soul-races. (Some elite spaceplane-fighter pilots also do so.) A few types of soul-organs are particularly useful:
Precognition – These organs talk to themselves using biological time-signals. People with this type of soul-organ statistically make the right “snap decision” more-often than not, particularly when being chased-down by predators. Soul-organ time-signal broadcasts only travel back in time a few minutes.
Time fortitude – The ability to withstand the stresses of time-ships.
Time-ship death-resistance (or, soul-freezing resistance) – When a timeship is destroyed or damaged, it (along-with the time-pilot’s soul) quickly returns to normal-time. This return, somewhat like rapid-decompression after diving, is so traumatic to soul biochemistry that the person’s soul may lose all of their memory and intelligence. People with transplanted timesoul-organs are not as severely affected. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decompression_sickness)
Transplanted time soul-organs only survive half a year, to a few years, before they fail or go-necrotic. Time-organs must be regularly harvested-and-transplanted from time-hardened soul-races. Consequently, Hominoid “Time Lords” indirectly keep individuals of time-hardened races as soul-slaves. A generic “slave” is someone kept against their will to do 2901 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 physical and mental work. A “soul slave” is someone kept against their will, for the purpose of harvesting their soul-organs. Time soul-slaves are typically kept for tens of lifetimes, being euthanized every-time their soul-organs are mature enough.
A randomly deep thought Cats purr when valves in their torso-veins open-and-close rapidly. These valves are located before the merger-point of the two leg-veins into the spinal veintrunk. The valves are located just-below the rib cage, on the left and right sides. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purring) The purpose of purring is to break-up viscous “blood-jelly” that sticks to the walls of a cat’s veins. The viscous “blood-jelly” forms only in cats that exercise. To clean-up the “blood-jelly”, a “detach”-chemical is released into the cat’s bloodstream. It loosens the deposits from the vein-walls. Small “blood-jelly” globules/strands commonly detach, and are of no danger. If large “blood-jelly” globules/strands detach, they flow through the rapidly opening-and-closing valves, and are cut-apart into smaller less-dangerous globules/strands. The freefloating smaller-globules/strands are eventually eaten-away by other chemicals. Because the “blood-jelly”-clumps are so dangerous, cats only release the “detach”-chemical when they are relaxed, in good pulmonary health, and not worried about having to do exercise for half-an-hour. Two-legged cat-evolved people cannot purr. Therefore, they do not exercise. It’s a good excuse, isn’t it?
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BOTS CONTROLLED BY T IME-OBSERVERS IN THE FUT URE Time-sphere and time-ship pilots often use specialized bots (telepathy-bots, camera-bots, and spy-bots) designed for timeline monitoring.
The bots can be deployed from time-spheres and time-ships. Or, they can be hauled to the target site by (automatic) spaceplanes in normal-time.
The bots move in slow/fast-time, something most ordinary bots cannot do.
Their signals are very-well encrypted.
The bots are “artificially-intelligent” enough that they only require occasional control time-signals. The bots are also more-miserly with their return time-signals than ordinary bots.
TIME-IMPLANTS Special “time implants” can be placed in time-subjects, people who are of-interest to time-ship pilots. Time-implants typically send-and-receive normal-time signals, but occasionally they use short-distance time-signals. Time-implants are much-more secure than ordinary implants. They send-andreceive signals that are very-well encrypted. Time-implants are very difficult to find. They detect if they are removed from their time-subject. And they detect if they are placed into a “liar” time-subject.
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TIME-WALKING A time-walker is someone who, through virtual-reality technology, walks-around and manipulates an alternative-future. Someone in a time-ship “dials-up” a timeline, a time, and an XYZ-location. The XYZlocation matches the current-location of the time-walker (such as New York City), but in the future (up to 80 years in the future). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_City) A body-bot (or “puppeteered” employee) is somehow delivered to the correct timeline, time, and location. The time-walker, in the past, sees and experiences their contemporary surroundings. They PERCEIVE the future surroundings, though. They might see a currently-vacant lot in front of them, but perceive a yet-to-be-built skyscraper. If the person is sufficiently “sozzled”, as I was, they actually believe that they are somehow 80-years in the future, but viewing the world as it was in the past. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augmented_reality_game) Time-suits are one technology-level more-advanced that time-walking.
The time-walker no-longer needs to be on-site (in a present-day New York City). Instead, they are in a (time-ship) virtual-reality room, with full-video and body-motion sensors.
The time-suit controller can remotely “walk-around” the FUTURE-site. The virtual-reality is as convincing as if they were walking-around the alternative-future wearing an encounter suit.
They have full-vision video from the alternative-future. Telepathy, audio, and touch are also standard.
Time-suit time-walkers can even manipulate the future timeline.
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SOUL TIME-SNAPPING While someone’s awareness is most-strongly attached to their soul-stem, thin threads of awareness seem to be attached to most of their soul-organs. A person’s soul has many-different perception soul-organs, and many different memory soul-organs. A sizable chunk of one of the soul-organs can be cut-off, and placed in a speed-delivery fast-time time-ball. The time-ball includes life-support liquid for the soul-organ fragment. In a week of soul-organ transport time, the soul-organ can be propelled 80-years into the future. Meanwhile, random-number generators in the speedy time-ball send-out randomly-selected messages to change time. When the person’s soul-organ fragment arrives in the future, it is temporarily transplanted onto someone. For a short time, perhaps a few hours, the soul-organ seems to transmit its “awareness-signal” information to the original-owner’s awareness, 80-years in the past. No-one is certain how this works. A more-technological explanation for the effect is that some very-high-tech people may-have implanted very-very-very-advanced implants into all of the person’s soul-organs. When speedily-and-stealthfully yanked into the future, these high-tech implants transmit the soul-organ’s perceptions into the past for a few hours. A high-tech someone in the future eventually realizes that their very-very-very-advanced implants have been hacked into, and shuts-down the transmissions.
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November 12, 2011
PROPHECIES From Dune Messiah, by Frank Herbert. “How can they be put to the test in the face of the unanswered questions? Consider: How much is actual prediction of the "wave form" (as Muad'Dib referred to his vision-image) and how much is the prophet shaping the future to fit the prophecy? What of the harmonics inherent in the act of prophecy? Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife?” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dune_Messiah, http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Dune, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Herbert)
Time-balls, time-spheres, time-ships, and time-dunked planets return millions of possible futures. Several-thousand “prophecies” are distilled out of the millions of possible futures. Prophecies are simple, likely, predictive-statements about a possible future that affects a significant-population in major ways, either positively and/or negatively. Prophecies are not destinies. When governments learn about prophecies (as defined above), they assign investigators to the prophecies. For example: If an alternative-future predicts an asteroid impact, then survey-ships may be assigned to the solar-system, to look for rogue asteroids that might accidentally impact the planet. Prophecies with net-negative outcomes will have resources assigned to counteract them, or deflect them. If a war appears in one of the alternative-timelines, then resources are spent investigating why the war might occur. Potential causes of the 2906 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 war are mitigated, cleaned-up, minimized, etcetera. The causes of peace are encouraged. Conversely, prophecies with net-positive outcomes are encouraged. Time-corporations have a reputation to live up to. If too-many of their prophecies fail, due to bad luck, poor execution, or wily competitors, then their business fails. A time-corporation’s “Prophecy reinsurance division” ensures that prophecies come true, especially if an enemy is attempting to prevent a prophecy. Client: “You prophesized that an asteroid was going to accidentally hit my enemy’s planet. It just missed!” Receptionist: “Er… well… just a minute… (Internal phone-call)… An accidental asteroid will be delivered to your enemy’s planet within three business-days.”
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Another use for time-signals... From “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, by Douglas Adams: The Encyclopedia Galactica copied many of its excerpts from the back of cereal boxes adding footnotes so the companies couldn't sue them. It is ironic that due to time travel the Encyclopedia Galactica went back into time and wrote the passages before the cereal companies, and then went on to sue them for copyright infringement. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douglas_Adams, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy, http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=encyclopedia%20galactica)
BEYOND THE PROPHECY-BUSINESS… Time-corporations aren’t the stodgy institutions that they used to be. Due to a loosening readjusting of time-corporation regulations, modern time-corporations are no-longer limited to droll prophecies:
Alternative presents, or alternative futures/pasts branching off-of alternative presents – “If you had your honeymoon in San Francisco last week, instead of New York City, you would have experienced a wonderful dinner-cruise in the bay. Keep that in mind for your anniversary.”
Alternative presents – Wish yourselves a happy birthday from an alternative present.
Coloring the sides of time – This service highlights particularly-nasty alternative-futures as being very-bad, ensuring that clients DON’T ever want them to come true. Or vice versa.
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November 12, 2011 “You might be offered the chance to try orange-marmalade icecream four weeks from now. Under normal circumstances, you would never try it, because you would expect it to taste bad. When our future time-employee forced you to try it, you discovered that the ice-cream tasted horrible! … and you were ill for weeks. Don’t ever try orange-marmalade ice-cream.” [Time-consultant pulls out a piece of paper.] “And here is a list of seventy-six other alternative futures that you will-wish to have-avoided.”
Prevent a narrowing of options – In politics and war, and life, you don’t want to maneuver yourself into a trap where you have no viable decisions. When tied to a time-war, a lack-of-decisions trap is sometimes called a “time trap”. From Children of Dune, by Frank Herbert “Any path that narrows future possibilities may become a lethal trap. Humans are not threading their way through a maze; they scan a vast horizon filled with unique opportunities. The narrowing viewpoint of the maze should appeal only to creatures with their noses buried in the sand.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Children_of_Dune, http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Dune, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Herbert)
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November 12, 2011
TIME-WAR TELEPATHY Telepathy on Earth-Sol is restricted by treaties. The number of telepaths is limited:
100 – 1000 people on Earth-Sol have speech telepathy, letting them communicate with people off-planet using words.
Many-many more have “thought-sentence” telepathy, where complex thoughts can be communicated… without words.
Perhaps one in fifty people can receive telepathic “thumps”, the equivalent of two-“word” thought-sentences.
At least one in ten people receive awareness-dreams.
One in ten, to one in four, people have implants that allow their minds to be read.
The scope of the telepathy on Earth-Sol is restricted:
On Earth-Sol, the policy seems to be that no valid/reliable information can be passed from one person on Earth-Sol to another. Nor can valid/reliable information be passed about news, events, or activities on Earth-Sol.
My telepathy has been turned-on for the last two years. In that time, I have only occasionally-received verifiably valid-information about someone or something on Earth-Sol. In most of the verifiably valid-information instances, the information was obscured by other information. It wasn’t until I learned the information in real-life, that I recalled that the same 2910 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 information had been conveyed to me through telepathy. On top of that, the information was of low-utility value.
I do get informed about what readers of my document think… kind of… The information is usually vague and obscured, for treaty reasons. An example: “A reader found a spelling-mistake on page 59.” The mistake wasn’t on page 59, and it wasn’t a spelling mistake. Telepathic feedback about my document (from the present) is NOT permitted to be very-reliable. The reader’s identity is almost-always misattributed. Many of the suggestions are intentionally bad. Etcetera.
Communication with non-Hominoids is reliable, but censored by neutral non-Hominoids, as well as interfered-with by Hominoids. It is also intentionally error-filled.
Communication with Hominoids whose technology is several-levels higher than Firefly and Stargate-Universe is reliable. The communications are censored by neutral non-Hominoids, non-neutral non-Hominoids, and interfered-with by Hominoids. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firefly_(TV_series), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stargate_Universe)
Communication with low-tech space-faring Hominoids (like Firefly and Stargate-Universe) doesn’t happen, UNLESS those Hominoids are botters.
“Botters” are, treaty-wise, supposed to be legally-appointed people who monitor the thoughts of their citizens, adjust their thoughts when dangerous to their society, and who can inflict non-lethal harm to “correct” said individuals. At their best, botters encourage alcoholics to stop drinking. When they’re nasty, botters encourage alcoholism, asocial behaviors, social unrest, and much worse.
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November 12, 2011 Communication with Earth-Sol’s ex-Hominids is very-censored, and names are almost-always mangled. I get in trouble if I E-mail the friends-andrelatives of the dead.
Time-telepathy gets a little-bit odd:
I often receive people’s opinion about my document… from alternative timelines. These are Earth-Sol people that have NOT read my document in this timeline. However, they COULD have read my document, if six months before, I had E-mailed them with the exact-right phrasing.
I also receive hints about what Earth-Sol people (in the future) might like to read in my document. Some “aliens” brainstorm topics for me to writeabout, coming-up with a long list. The different me’s, in different timelines, have one-or-two topics suggested to me. Someone then monitors future Earth-Sol document-readers with the assumption that I included a specific topic in my document. The readers’ opinions/thoughts are transmitted-back in time, censored/modified, and telepathically communicated to me.
EARTH-SOL – MANY OF US ARE “TIME-SUBJECTS” “Time-subjects”, typically political and military leaders, are important data-sources used for timeline data-collection. Time-subjects are “in the know” people, who know about an important event or topic a LOT sooner, and a LOT-more accurately, than just-about everyone else.
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November 12, 2011 It’s best if time-subject don’t know that they’re time subjects.
Time-subjects who know they’re time-subjects can intentionally undermine timeline data-collection efforts.
Most time-subjects don’t like being time-subjects because a series of both “lucky” and “unlucky” life-events pushes them in directions they would rather not go. Time-subjects often end-up in “time traps”.
Once time-subjects are discovered by enemies, the enemies either try to disable the time-subjects (by removing their implants, relocating the timesubjects, or killing them), or the enemies usurp the time-subjects to undermine timeline data-collection efforts.
Consequently, time-subjects most-often occur on planets (like Earth-Sol) with the following characteristics:
Planets where time-subjects cannot be warned that they are timesubjects. People who do NOT know they’re time subjects do NOT try to subvert the eavesdropping efforts, nor do they seek-out help from helpful “aliens” who can remove the implants. (This happens on “non-disclosed” planets like Earth-Sol.)
Planets where likely time-subjects cannot detect eavesdropping implants. Most time-subjects are political and military leaders. On technological planets, political and military leaders are ALWAYS routinely-tested for eavesdropping implants. Earth-Sol is so “low-tech”, that its political and military leaders do not schedule-themselves for monthly implant-cleanings … This is not-quite true, since Earth-Sol’s top-ranking leadership is routinely and invisibly cleaned by both Hominid and non-Hominoid implant-bots. Two-or-three direct-reports
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November 12, 2011 down from the leaders, and Earth-Sol government employees are infested with eavesdropping implants.
Planets where time-subjects are land-locked, and cannot be flown far-far away. People flown several galaxies away can no-longer be easily tracked as time-subjects. (Spaceplane travel is not available on “non-disclosed” planets like Earth-Sol, as well as prison planets.)
Neutral planets on the geographical boundaries of warring enemies. (Like Earth-Sol.)
Planets whose suns are in close-orbits around larger gravity-objects. Such planets do NOT move-much relative to the larger gravity-objects. Lowmobility planets are more-easily listened-to by “low-end” time-spheres. (Earth-Sol’s sun closely-orbits around a large gravity-object near the center of the Orion Spur.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orion_Spur)
Planets with uncensored news-coverage of important events, and/or a widely-used uncensored internet. Earth-Sol’s INTRA-planetary news is fair-to-good. Within 15-minutes of a major natural-disaster, Earth-Sol’s uncensored-news will be broadcasting about the event. Most educated people on the planet will know about the event within a day. This is NOT the case on 95% of all space-faring Hominid planets, particularly during a war. Even Roswell was leaked a few days after the event. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_incident) Earth-Sol’s INTER-planetary news is highly-censored, and is limited to science-fiction stories.
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November 12, 2011 However, if something very-newsworthy happens off-planet, and the news manages to find its way to Earth-Sol, then internet E-mail and digital photos/videos will bypass the censored news. EVERYONE “in the know” on Earth-Sol will know of the event within weeks; many of them are timesubjects.
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN-RACE SKETCHES (PART 2) LIONFISH-EVOLVED … I incorrectly classified the meta-race as Angelfish-evolved or stonefish-evolved.
This image is only roughly approximate. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion_fish)
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FOUR-LEGGED SHARK-EVOLVED
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WAR UPDATE (18/8/2011) CAT-EVOLVED POLITICS The Cat-evolved nations surrounding The [Hominoid] Six Kingdoms have been governed by a pacifist party, unwilling to war-against the Hominoids, for good reasons. In many ways, the current Cat-evolved leadership is like the UnitedKingdom’s leadership before World War II, led by Neville Chamberlain… “Peace in our time.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Kingdom, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nevil_Chamberlain, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II) The opposition party is anti-Hominoid, just as Winston Churchill was anti-Nazi. They have not led the parliaments for two-hundred years. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winston_Churchill, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi) The recent attacks on the Cat-evolved nations will inevitably cause an election to be called. Anti-Hominoid parties are now likely to gain power, and institute moreaggressive war-policies against the Hominoids. Elections will take months to arrange, and the power-handoff even-longer. Hominoid militaries will inevitably take-advantage of government change-over delays. Recall World War II:
1 September 1939 – Nazi-Germany invades Poland. Neville Chamberlain is Prime-Minister of the United-Kingdom. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Germany, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poland)
3 September 1939 (+2 days) – Neville Chamberlain reluctantly declares war on Germany.
10 May 1930 (+252 days) – Germany invades France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/France,
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November 12, 2011 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belgium, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherlands, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luxembourg)
26 May 1930 (+268 days) – The British-military evacuates the continent at Dunkirk, France. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunkirk_evacuation)
10 June 1940 (+283 days) – Winston Churchill is appointed Prime-Minister of the United-Kingdom.
Many-months after Winston Churchill becomes Prime-Minister – The United Kingdom stops retreating, and begins efforts to free France.
It takes a long time for a new government to be elected, orient itself, produce new war-policies, and begin implementing them.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOID WAR-REORGANIZATION?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
The Hominoid military seems to have reorganized recently. Our section, (, 7), is now under the command of the military at (, 6). Two-other command-centers are located at (, 6) and (, 2).
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November 12, 2011
As part of the larger Hominoid war-reorganization, The Six Kingdoms now seems to have had their zone-of-influence reduced. They lost Hominoid-legal/political control of the Andromeda Galaxy. The Milky-Way Galaxy and the “Wolfen” Galaxies were formerly neutral-territories between The Andromeda Galaxy and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk). The Milky-Way Galaxy and the “Wolfen” Galaxies now appear to be under the same military-command as and Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk), Barumba, and Ayum. Changes to Earth-Sol’s off-planet-Hominid leadership-and-policies are possible.
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November 12, 2011
GRIEFERS There is a theory that Hominoid-command is sending their “known assholes” to our region (- , 7) so that non-Hominoid militaries here will kill them off. A friendliersounding name for “known assholes” is “griefers”, a term originating from multiplayer online games. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massively_multiplayer_online_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Griefer) Non-Hominoid political-and-military leadership is debating whether to quickly killoff the griefers in (- , 7). If they’re killed off, more griefers might be sent here by Hominoid command. However, if the griefers aren’t killed-off, then the current griefers will do tremendous-amounts of violence. There is no simple/easy solution. Because all of the Hominoid griefers have been posted here, it is thought that there are “nicer” Hominoid-invaders at (-, 6) and (-, 6).
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November 12, 2011
MORE HYPOTHESIZED HOMINOID WAR-PLANS
Hypothesis A – Reinforcing (or occupying) allies
Hypothesis B – Transiting through allies, to invade Lionfish-evolved and Crocodile-evolved territories
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Hypothesis C – Invade Elapidae territory
A randomly deep thought E-paper notebook – Students in some technological-societies take notes on epaper notebooks. The notebooks have about fifty leaves of writable e-paper. Students shake their notebook between classes to load-in the next-class’s notes. E-paper notebook with built-in games – Some e-paper notebooks have built-in “doodle games”. When bored students draw a stick figure, the stick-figure walks-around the page. When the student draws some steps, or a ladder, the stick-figure climbs up them. Different e-notebook versions include spaceship games, or wild-animal games.
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November 12, 2011
EARTH-SOL ECO-POLITICAL-SYSTEM FLAWS FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEMS WITH OUR ECONOMIC-POLITICAL SYSTEMS There are fundamental problems with economic-political systems on Earth-Sol:
Money leads to power. Money enables both political bribes, and votewinning political-advertising. Less-directly, money controls television-news, which influences votes.
The very-wealthy control corporations through shareholder-voting. Lesswealthy shareholders do not vote in an educated manner, if at all. Mutualfunds, who own sizable portions of all corporations, shareholder-vote for the “highest SHORT-TERM returns”… and perhaps “the priorities of the voting-shareholders of the mutual-funds, NOT the mutual-fund contributingmembers”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutual_fund)
One-person one-vote is flawed. More-intelligent, more-informed, and more-“moral/mature” people, should have more influence on society.
“Democratic free-market capitalism” is overly-dominant. Several radicallydifferent eco-political systems should be represented on every planet.
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PROBLEMS THAT RESULT Eco-political flaws encourage the following problems:
Poor leadership, in general – Earth-Sol’s leadership is mostly of poorquality. The wealthy (as well as those controlling idle wealth) inevitably wish to control political leadership. Less-intelligent political-leadership is moreeasily controlled. The wealthy (and those controlling idle wealth) encourage the election of less-than-the-brightest political-candidates. Less-intelligent and less-educated people vote for less-than-the-brightest political-candidates. Uninformed-voters vote for candidates based on intuitive guesses, based only on the information provided by the wealthy-controlled television-news. Intuitive voting also leads to the election of high-social-IQ candidates.
Dysfunctional United-Nations – Powerful corporations do not want strong international regulations, as would be created by a functional UnitedNations. Corporations take-advantage of the lack of internationalregulations to bypass local national-regulations. For example: Manufacturing moved from the United-States to China to bypass minimumwage and environment-protection laws. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Nations)
Shaky financial-system – The current crop of wealthy are self-selected risktakers. Over the past 80 years, those people who have taken risks have earned more money. Risk-taking wealthy control a larger-percentage of the economy now, than they did 80 years ago. The more risks, the greater the chance of a world-wide market-collapse, followed by a depression.
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November 12, 2011 The next worldwide-depression that hits will most-likely obliterate the risktakers, as it did 80 years ago. Financially-conservative wealthy will mostlikely retake control… encouraging depression-years between the changeover.
Misdirection of resources towards excessive luxury-items – Poor leadership lets the wealthy gain undue influence. The wealthy encourage laws that expand their wealth, leading to a larger income-spread. People with excesswealth spend excessively. The wealthiest-10% of the planet’s population purchases overly-large houses, automobiles, and televisions, as well as other luxury goods. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wealth_inequality_in_the_United_States)
Overworked – Employable people aged 20 – 55 are overworked, working 810 hours a day, both husband and wife. After work, a couple must take care of their children, as well fit-in home-maintenance.
Wage-slaves in China – Low-skilled Chinese-workers are wage-slaves hidden-away on a different continent. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wage_slavery)
Unemployed retirees – Retirees are NOT encouraged to work part-time.
Unemployable – A significant portion of the population is so low-skilled and/or so-ornery that they aren’t worth hiring. Many unemployable people can only be motivated to work by building moral-flaws into society. People who work in unskilled-jobs have an abhorrent quality-of-life. Unemployment-income must be less than unskilled-work income, or people will regularly find ways to become unemployed.
Skilled-people cannot-easily change professions, but unskilled people can – A skilled person cannot change their profession without leaving the workforce. For them, changing their profession requires 2-4 full-time years
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November 12, 2011 at university, or 6-8 years at night-university while simultaneously working. Skilled-people are stuck in the profession they chose at age 20. Unfairly, low-skilled people can change their profession whenever they tire of it.
Intelligent people are not having-enough children – More-educated people are having fewer children than less-educated people. This ultimately harms the intelligence-level of Homo-Sapiens. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fertility_and_intelligence)
SUGGESTED POLITICAL CHANGES Listed are some suggestions that directly affect politics:
Demographic legislators – Every voter should vote for a demographicsegment legislator, as well as a legislator for their geographical region. A person could cast one vote for their demographic: “Conservative-Christian party” versus “Economic reform party” versus “Gamer-geek party”. Their second vote would be for the state/county representative.
Weighted voting – Intelligent, politically-informed, and “moral/mature” people should be provided more voting “points”. Intelligence and politicalknowledge tests are fairly reliable. “Morality/maturity” tests are more subjective, and more-commonly abused.
Voting similar to modern opinion-polls – In an “opinion-poll”-like votingsystem, 90% of the population DOESN’T vote in any given election. Voting individuals are randomly-and-secretly selected based on demographic
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November 12, 2011 characteristics, as per contemporary opinion-poll methods. Randomlyselected voters are paid (and/or given time-off from work?) so they can understand the issues. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opinion_poll) To prevent voting-fraud, a randomly-selected, 10% - 30% of the electorates, should require everyone in the electorate to vote in the election. With internet-based voting, sudden “everyone-votes” elections require only a month’s notice.
Independent audits of voting (in ALL countries) should be carried-out by the United-Nations.
Anonymous legislators – The identities of legislators should be kept anonymous while they are in office. Legislators should never meet face-toface – so they stay anonymous. All meetings should be remote and anonymous (with false names). Instituting anonymous-legislators greatlyreduces legislator bribery.
Legislator duplicates – Every legislative-position should have five-ish legislators elected to the position. They all vote, but only one individual’s vote counts. None of the legislators know if they’re the real legislator. Corruption sting-operations are expected by all of them. This greatly reduces legislator bribery. The less-bribable that legislators are as a group, the higher the number of legislator assassinations. And viceversa.
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November 12, 2011
OTHER SUGGESTED CHANGES TO SOCIETY
Africa, impoverished portions – Deal with the mess.
Childbirth of the educated – Perhaps educated people should be legally forced to have-and-raise children? If they don’t wish to raise children, they could be forced to have children and give them up for adoption. Or, they could be forced to pay for another educated-person to have a third child.
Childbirth, population reduction – Population-reduction policies should be created. Earth-Sol’s population is too-large.
Computer operating-systems – Earth-Sol needs more than one dominant operating-system, but not because of anti-monopoly laws. Cyber-attacks can instantaneously destroy an entire society. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operating_system, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyberattack)
Education, teenagers – Do NOT let teenagers spend their entire day with only teenagers, as is common in Earth-Sol high-school. Teenage-societies develop a deviant-and-immature sub-culture, whose traces remain in your adult culture.
Education, retraining – Educated adults need to be-able to change their profession at least once or twice in their life. Apprenticeships and “whileworking” education would let educated adults more-easily switch professions when they become tired of their current profession.
Euthanization – Let people be euthanized if they wish.
Food, healthy restaurants – Food health-laws should encourage healthy restaurant-and-takeaway menus, as well as minimizing low-nutrition foods in supermarkets.
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November 12, 2011 Food, mega-corporations – Destroy food mega-corporations, such as those controlling beverages, meats, and takeaway chains. They are dangerous because one thought-to-be-safe food-additive in a popular food-item can reduce the intelligence of half the planet’s population by 5 – 15 IQ-points.
Money, counterfeiting – Paper money is too-easy to counterfeit.
Television news, non-corporate – Some television news-stations should be government-run, some not-for-profit subsidized by the government, and some corporate-run.
Television news, public education – News-broadcasts should include “public education” segments that update older-people’s education, to contemporary high-school-level information. For example: People over age 30 don’t know what a computer-program looks like. 5 – 10 minutes from a nightly news-broadcast might provide them an overview of computer programming.
Terrorism, high-rises – Make high-rises illegal. They are too-tempting for terrorists.
Terrorism, large passenger-jets – Make large passenger-jets illegal. They are too-tempting for terrorists.
United Nations – Get the United-Nations working.
Workdays – Enforce shorter work-days, and/or fewer work-days per week.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Some high-tech spaceplanes have extradimensional floors. In addition to stairs and elevators (which go up and down), the spaceplanes have “pads” where people stand, and are extradimensionally-offset to another “XD-floor”.
SOIREES Soirees typically are MULTIRACIAL formal-dinners without dancing. They are attended by extremely-wealthy people, or their twenty-something children. Since Hominoid race-relationships have been problematical over the past fewhundred years, targeted “Hominoid meets non-Hominoid” soirees dominate. In such soirees, half of the attendees are Hominoids. Lately, soirees have encountered a few problems:
Extremely-wealthy Hominoids do NOT have household slaves. They have Hominoid servants. Wealthy Hominoids have Simian or Chimpanzeeevolved slaves, often-treated more-like indentured servants. Well-off Hominoids have Mammaloid slaves. Extremely-wealthy people who attend soirees NEVER interact with Mammaloids, except at the soirees. However, as children, they read books (and watch a few television-shows) where Mammaloids were friendly storycharacters (such as nannies), or story-scoundrels. Which lead to…
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November 12, 2011 The Hominoid soiree-attendees often saw soirees as a chance to “meet a Mammaloid character from their childhood literature”. Mammaloidattendees found this to be very-insulting. To accentuate the issue, one wealthy Mammaloid actually dressed-up as a Hominoid cartoon-character.
There are only eight-ish flavors of Hominoid socio-economies, including aristocracy, fascism, representative democracy, and gerontocracy. There are hundreds of distinct Mammaloid, Saurian, Agimade, and Gecko-evolved socio-economies. Non-Hominoid soiree-attendees would know and understand all eight-ish Hominoid socio-economic cultures. The Hominoids would understand nothing about the non-Hominoid socio-economic cultures… One commonly-heard Hominoid-to-a-Mammaloid line: “So, do you work for the Saurians?” The Mammaloid walks away. End of conversation.
Four-legged Mammaloids pretended to be pets when they attended the soirees. This let them leer at the Hominoids.
Other Hominoid attendees saw soirees as a chance to meet their future conquerees. This was-also very-insulting.
Local soirees were 10% “Reptiloid”, a mix of Saurians, with some Agamidae and Gecko-evolved people. Hominoid-attendees avoided interactions with Reptiloids.
Saurians, Agamidae, Gecko-evolved, and Mammaloid soiree-attendees, used the soirees as a way to size-up their future enemies. Skilled nonHominoid mind-readers were chosen to attend.
Hominoid families sent their “third” child to the soirees. Their “first” child was always too-busy being groomed to run the family business, which often involved the conquest of Mammaloids. Their “second” child was too-busy
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November 12, 2011 helping to run the household. Their “third” child would grudgingly attend. They would rather be partying… but NOT with the non-Hominoids.
The Saurians earned a reputation for murdering (a few) Hominoid soireeguests after every soiree. Murders typically took-place a few days after the soiree. The Saurians claim they only murdered half of the alleged victims; the others were most-likely Hominoid-to-Hominoid assassinations.
At the soirees, Hominoid-attendees only ventured near Reptiloidindividuals if the Reptiloids happened to be part of a mostly-Mammaloid conversation-group. Given the after-the-soiree murders, chatting-with Reptiloids was seen as a bit dangerous.
Because there were so-many Hominoid attendees, soirees often took-place on Hominoid outpost-planets. Hominoids arrange the venue and meals. Hominoids would be very catty, arranging meals designed to offend their Saurian guests. In one soiree, a Saurian’s Mammaloid friend-and-partner was accosted, murdered, and served as part of the meal.
Another recent soiree between Nor and Hominoids resulted in the explosive demolition of the eight-story hotel where the soiree was hosted.
No Mammaloids attended the most-recent soiree, because all of their nations were being invaded/threatened by Hominoids. Consequently, only Saurians showed-up. This led Hominoids (in the present, as well as the past, thanks to time-balls) to erroneously believe that the Saurians are the premier races, in-charge of the galaxies. The soiree was exceptionally frigid.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Goanna-evolved people enjoy tubular-bells and triangle-music. They listen more for the “formants” of the triangles than the fundamental pitch. To create different formants, Goannas sequentially cut-down the triangle-shape (“Δ”) until the triangle just-becomes a hanging-and-lopsided “chevron”, (“Λ”). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tubular_bell, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangle_(instrument), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Formant)
WIRING ISN’T JUST FOR ELECTRONS To people on Earth-Sol, a “wire”, or “electrical cable”, is a piece of flexible metal (wrapped in plasti-rubber) with free-electrons flowing through it. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electron) A fiber-optic cable is a silicon-glass “wire” that lets light flow through it. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiber_optic) Electrons are a particle. Light flowing through fiber-optic cables is a collection of very-small particles, with an additional “wave” component. Static-electricity is NOT excess standing-electrons. A portion of a static-electricity shock comes from a sub-electron particle, called a “static-electric” particle. Staticelectric particles can travel through “plastic” and/or “ceramic” cables. Static-electric particles DO NOT travel through metal cables. Static-electric particles are sensitive to quaternion-EMF, but not electromagnetism. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Static_electricity)
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November 12, 2011 The next size down from static-electric particles (kind-of) is a “photo-electric” particle. Photo-electric particles are sensitive of quaternion-EMF, but not electromagnetism. They travel a few meters through air, but are blocked by glass. Photo-electric particles travel though cables similar to fiber-optic cables, but the cables don’t use a silicon (glass) base. When a photo-electric particle is directed towards an eye, it passes through the eye’s cornea and lens without refraction. The eye’s retina detects the particle as light. Photo-electric particles can be generated by sending a small pulse of electrons to a light-emitting diode (perhaps?) and/or a piezoelectric-crystal (perhaps?). The pulse can be generated by a micro-sparkplug. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lightemitting_diode, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piezoelectric_crystal, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkplug) Electro-static particles can be generated by power-turbines that DO NOT USE METAL WIRING and which DO NOT USE METAL “MAGNETS”. The particles can alternatively be generated by batteries that DO NOT USE METAL ANODES AND CATHODES bathed in ACIDS. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turbine, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnet, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battery_(electricity), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anode, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cathode, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acid) Until scientists and engineers on Earth-Sol produce electro-static and photo-electric currents, Earth-Sol chemistry, biochemistry, materials-science, and spaceplaneconstruction will be severely hindered. By the way, proton currents are also possible, but they are very difficult to create under Earth-Sol’s laws of physics. Quark-currents are significantly more-doable. An infinite-number of other currents are also possible. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quark)
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A deeply random thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Yawn – The physical motion of a yawn releases pre-synthesized stimulants into the brain, causing someone to wake-up. Physical-motion of the spinal-column after sleep releases different stimulants. Muscle-motion after sleep also releases stimulants. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yawn) Testing whether one’s brain is falling asleep takes “energy”. If one person in a group is tired, the others are more-likely to be tired. Therefore, if one person yawns, it is statistically-wisest for everyone to yawn. Which is why yawns are contagious.
MOLECULAR, ORGANELLE , AND CELLULAR BIOLOGY (PART 1) Proudly brought to you by the
GREYS. (Well, maybe not proudly, depending-upon
how-many mistakes Mike makes.)
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FUNDAMENTAL CHEMISTRY ATOMS ARE NOT ELECTRON CLOUDS Atoms are more-than 10-dimensional. They are NOT oscillating strings, as per “string theory”… although electrons (and other particles) crawl-around atoms in routes that kind-of perhaps form oscillating strings. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/String_theory) Atoms are composed if smaller particles. Saying that atoms are composed only of “protons” and “neutrons” is like saying that all automobiles are either station-wagons or pickup-trucks… ignoring sedans, minis, sports-cars, soft-road vehicles, four-wheel drives, etcetera. “Protons”, “neutrons”, and “minis [… the automobile]” are composed of evensmaller particles, “quarks”. There are more than six quarks, by the way. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mini, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quark) Quarks are composed of smaller-particles still. Every atom is unique. Every “proton”, “neutron”, and “mini” is unique. Every quark is unique. Every sub-quark is unique. Atoms are not just balls of “protons”, “neutrons”, and “minis”. They are more-like knots, with one-to-four dangling-ends. Atoms attach to one-another, either end-toend, knot-ball to end, and (rarely) knot-ball to knot-ball. When not attached to another atom, knot-ends typically curl-around, and stick to the atom’s core knot-ball.
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Oxygen (http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-1283308/stock-photo-figure-eight-knot-tied-ona-white-rope.html)
Carbon (http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-1283308/stock-photo-figure-eight-knot-tied-ona-white-rope.html)
Somewhat-similar physical-analogies illustrate how quarks form “protons” and “neutrons”. Quarks are more-dimensional than “protons” and “neutrons”. Most atoms do NOT have electrons. Their net electric-charge is zero. Only a few atoms, 1%(?), have a net electric-charge of 1-ish (NOT exactly 1.0). Atoms with a netpositive electric-charge are factory-fitted with a preinstalled electron.
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November 12, 2011 Atoms come factory-fitted with other extras, such as a static-electric particle (if they have a static-electric charge of 1-ish), or a photoelectric particle (with a photoelectric charge of 1-ish), etcetera. The extra-particles that are preinstalled in an atom can be guessed-at by looking at the atom’s quaternion-EMF/EMR (generated when the atom is heated)… as well as by carefully reverse-engineering the atom’s sticker-price (mass). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isotope)
MOLECULES Molecules are glued-together atoms, typically attached to one-another by the atoms’ dangling-ends. By the way, when two molecularly-bonded atoms are separated, small fragments originally from one atom, may stick-and-migrate to the other atom. When bound-together into large molecules, collections of atoms flatten-out into three-dimensional shapes, just like tied-together pinecones floating in water form a two-dimensional shape. When atoms are bound-together into molecules, metaphors mix, and electrons, static-electric particles, and photo-electric particles zip-and-loop-about from atomto-atom, flea-like. Could this be string theory? Or flea-theory? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/String_theory) The existence of the flea-like particles generates quaternion-EMF. The cyclicmovements of the flea-like particles generates quaternion EMR. The cyclic-jiggling of the molecule’s atoms, as well as the jiggling of the “protons”, “neutrons”, and “pickup-trucks”, creates other quaternion-EMF/EMR. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_radiation)
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November 12, 2011 Fleas (previously-known-as leptons???) can also spin-about on their axis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fermions, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lepton)
A randomly deep thought
To quote the
Greys:
“I have a 10,000-page book of physics on my desk. The ONLY physics that the book describes ONE-HUNDRED-PERCENT ACCURATELY, is the physics that CONSTRUCTS the book. THE BOOK’S TEXT, however, INACCURATELY explains quite-a-lot of physics. THERE IS NO GRANDUNIFIED THEORY OF PHYSICS, you idiots! Go back to work!”
ENCOURAGING CHEMICAL-REACTIONS Earth-Sol chemists molecularly bind-together atoms, forming molecules, using the following techniques:
Chemists let atoms bump-together randomly. Molecular-bonds sometimes eventually-form.
Chemists heat-up mixtures of atoms.
Chemists run an electric-current through mixtures of atoms.
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November 12, 2011 Chemists beam a laser into mixtures of atoms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laser)
Optionally, chemists include catalyst-chemicals in the mixture. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catalyst) One of the reasons why catalyst-chemicals enable chemical-reactions is that their molecules produce their own very-small EMF. Catalyst-chemicals also produce small-amounts of EMR, and even small-currents of particles. The quaternion-EMF/EMR generated by catalyst-chemicals encourages molecules with the correct-shapes, and/or the correct quaternionEMF/EMR, to bond together. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein)
Some other ways to create molecular-bonds:
Run a static-electric and/or photoelectric current through the chemical mixture.
Apply electric, static-electric, and/or photoelectric macroscopic-EMF.
Apply electric, static-electric, and/or photoelectric EMR. (Not-necessarily a using a laser.)
There are many-other not-yet-discovered approaches.
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PURIFYING CHEMICAL-MIXTURES All molecules have quaternion-EMF/EMR. Molecules can be coaxed to stand-on-end using quaternion-EMF/EMR, as well as particle-currents. Liquid-crystal displays block light when an electron-current causes the molecules to stand-on-end and hyper-dimensionally reshape. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquid_crystal_display) Quaternion-EMF/EMR and particle-currents can be used to “settle” and separate molecules, instead-of (or in addition-to) using a centrifuge. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centrifuge) Refrigeration isn’t the only way to stabilize molecules that fall-apart. QuaternionEMF/EMR and particle-currents can stabilize molecules. Quaternion-EMF/EMR and particle-currents can also stabilize atoms with a short half-life. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Half-life)
HOW EARTH-SOL’S LIMITED CHEMISTRY/PHYSICS-KNOWLEDGE AFFECTS MEDICATIONS As a general rule:
Earth-Sol-constructed medications are impure. They would be more-pure if they were settled-and-separated using quaternion-EMF/EMR and particlecurrents. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_purification_methods_in_chemistry)
Earth-Sol-constructed medications are built with the wrong atom-shapes (and the wrong atom-personalities). Medication-efficacy would greatlyimprove if the correct atom shapes/personalities were used.
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November 12, 2011 Earth-Sol-constructed medications are less-effective because they are designed to be stored-and-distributed in dry-capsules. Dry-capsule medications, which have long shelf-lives, are almost-always less-effective than liquid-based medications that must be kept cool. The shelf-life of some medications can be extended by storing them under the appropriate quaternion-EMF/EMR, or with appropriate particle-currents flowing through them.
Medications that are mixed on-the-spot are sometimes more-effective than pre-synthesized medications. Unstable molecules are often more medically-active than stable molecules. For example: Snake-venoms are more-deadly because they are mixedtogether seconds before they are injected. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snake_venom)
People on Earth-Sol take too-many medications, partly because medications are so impure, and constructed from the wrong atom shapes/personalities.
COMPUTATIONAL BIOCHEMISTRY Experimental biochemistry is necessary. “Hey! I just found-out that if I mix protein-A with chemical-B and chemical-D, I produce chemical-E and heat-energy.” Another discipline of biochemistry is missing: A cell is a biological computerprogram. Computer-programmers (or people who think like computerprogrammers) need to be hired-away from the software-industry, and tasked with thinking about molecules as assembly-code, prions and proteins and lines of code, and organelles as functions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assembly_code,
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November 12, 2011 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prion, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organelle, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cell_(biology) ) Biochemists currently have no “How to program using molecules, for dummies” text-book, describing the world’s computer-programming language. Consequently, biochemists don’t think of molecules and organelles as lines of code and functions in a computer program. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C_for_Dummies, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/For_dummies)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/For_dummies)
Contemporary computational-biochemistry works-around the lack-of text-book, by training pattern-recognizers based on real-life data, without relying on a theoretical-foundation. Such pattern-recognizers are used to predict protein-folding.
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November 12, 2011 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein_folding, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein_structure_prediction)
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Tonsils – Tonsils test food to see if it is infested with bacteria, paramecium, mould, and amoebas. Theoretically, people whose tonsils have been removed won’t taste (or react-to) microbe-infested meat as quickly. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonsil)
SOME FUNDAMENTAL BIOLOGICAL CHEMICALS SUGARS Sugars can be defined by form: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sugar)
A sugar is a ring of molecules under tension.
As per contemporary Earth-Sol chemistry, sugars are defined by their atomic composition-and-arrangement.
Not all carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen atoms are the same. The shapesand-personalities of the atoms that make-up the sugar are also important.
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Alternatively, sugars can be defined by function:
Sugars conform to internationally-regulated sizes.
The sugar-shape is “colored” with an internationally-regulated quaternionEMF. The color varies from atom-to-atom.
When sugars “snap” (see below) they produce internationally-regulated quaternion-EMF/EMR. Any particles that spring-lose upon snapping are also regulated.
Sugars that DO NOT conform to international-regulations are either not digestible, or they are toxic.
When “fresh”, a sugar molecule is closed-ring of molecules under tension. Sugars “snap-apart” when the correct quaternion-EMF and/or particle-currents are applied to the molecule-ring’s weak-point. The “snap” cuts the ring into a “C”shape. Upon “snapping”, sugars release a quaternion-EMF pulse, and a little-bit of EMR. An electron-like particle (electrons, static-electric particles, and/or photo-electric particles) may-also be dislodged.
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November 12, 2011 A sugar that has been snapped at its weak-point is “old” or “used-up”. “Used-up” sugars look-like split washers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washer_(hardware) )
(http://www.fastfixdirect.co.uk/images/prodimages/0426T.jpg)
“Used-up” sugars can be “rejoined” using proteins (or other chemicals). To rejoin a sugar, proteins hold the “used-up” sugar in place, sometimes squeezing the disconnected-ends closer. The protein joins the disconnected-ends when a particlecurrent is passed through it. The particle-current causes the protein to twitch, and/or generate quaternion-EMF. When the particle-current stops, the protein relaxes, and releases the rejoined (and now-“fresh”) sugar.
Dietary information:
There are LOTS of different sugars, not just glucose and fructose. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glucose, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fructose)
As sugars age, they “snap-apart”. At this point in Earth-Sol technology, only fresh-fruit and fresh-vegetables (and sugars in mild acid solutions?) contain “fresh” sugars.
Frozen sugars also “snap-apart”.
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CARBOHYDRATES Bagged granulated-sugar is NOT sugar, because all of the sugars have already “snapped”-apart by the time the bag reaches the supermarket… and cooking the sugar doesn’t help either. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Granulated_sugar) Complex-sugars, with two or more carbon-loops, are NOT sugars either! They are carbohydrates that taste something-like sugar. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disaccharide, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carbohydrate)
FATTY ACIDS Fatty-acids are strands of carbon-atoms, surrounded by hydrogen-atoms (as well as a few other atoms). Fatty-acids are differentiated by their carbon-chain length, as well as the shapes-and-personalities of their constituent atoms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatty_acid) Fatty-acids look-like long, bendy cypress trees. The carbon-and-hydrogen atoms at the end of the chain are ALWAYS smaller than the atoms at the base of the chain. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupressus) Fatty-acids are sensitive to quaternion-EMF.
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PROTEINS The shapes-and-personalities of a protein’s atoms, greatly-affect the protein’s chemical properties. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein) Therefore, there are more protein-programming nucleobases than A, C, G, and T! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nucleobase)
SLEEP CYCLES & QUATERNION-EMF Chemical reactions are affected by macroscopic quaternion-EMF. In particular, enzyme-proteins are very-sensitive to quaternion-EMF, not just temperature and pH. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protein, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PH) Cells require “sleep” and “rest” cycles. Over the course of a sleep-and-rest cycle, cell organelles generate different quaternion-EMF/EMR “colors”. Proteins are optimized for specific EMF/EMR “colors”. Many chemical-reactions only occur during specific sleep-and-rest cycles: a) For a chemical reaction to occur, both to-be-bound-together molecules must be touching the protein-enzyme. Molecules and enzymes are moved to the proper location in the cell using molecular conveyor-belts, whose movements are often time-linked to sleep-and-rest cycles. b) The cell must illuminate-itself with the proper EMF/EMR “color”. The “color” is time-linked to sleep-and-rest cycles. c)
For many chemical-reactions to take-place, the proper particle-currents must be directed through the enzyme-proteins. Many particle-currents are time-linked to sleep-and-rest cycles.
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November 12, 2011 d) The environment-temperature must be correct. Cell-temperature is timelinked to sleep-and-rest cycles.
Some multistage chemical-reactions require a non-contiguous sequence of sleepand-rest “colors” to complete the multistage reaction-process. A complete reactionprocess might occur over several days. A cell’s sleep-and-rest cycles are somewhat analogous to CPU clock-cycles in a CISC processor. Some chemical-reactions happen at the transition of the clock cycle. Other chemical-reactions occur when the clock-signal is at +3.5 volts. Different chemical-reactions require the clock-signal to be at +0 volts. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CPU, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clock_cycle, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Complex_instruction_set_computing) Earth-Sol biochemists cannot-yet detect when cells enter sleep-and-rest cycles because (a) they don’t know that quaternion-EMF/EMR exists, and (b) they cannot detect the quaternion-EMF/EMR.
A randomly deep thought “The experience of war is ruined by (those) participating in it.” – Frank, the alien.
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ORGANELLES
From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Biological_cell.svg A typical animal cell. Within the cytoplasm, the major organelles and cellular structures include: (1) nucleolus (2) nucleus (3) ribosome (4) vesicle (5) rough endoplasmic reticulum (6) Golgi apparatus (7) cytoskeleton (8) smooth endoplasmic reticulum (9) mitochondria (10) vacuole (11) cytosol (12) lysosome (13) centriole.
CYTOSKELETON(?) – CONVEYOR-BELTS The cytoplasm of a cell is cross-crossed by self-connecting molecule micro-wires. When particle-currents are run through the molecule micro-wires, the micro-wires produce quaternion-EMF/EMR. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cytoplasm, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cytoskeleton) The quaternion-EMF/EMR from the micro-wires pulls certain shapes/personalities of proteins along the micro-wires, where they end-up at chemical reaction-sites, and/or chemical storage-centers. 2952 | P a g e
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CENTRIOLES (???) – FIELD-GENERATORS Cells have EMF/EMR field-generators. I don’t know what they look like. They may be centrioles. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centriole) A centriole is a small organelle that collects, organizes, and “snaps” sugars, or other chemicals that produce the necessary fields. Centrioles are “ignited”, often at the transition of a cell’s sleep-and-rest cycle. They slowly “burn through” their sugars, “snapping” a controlled-percentage of the sugars per second. Snapping the sugars creates sizable EMF/EMR-fields around the centrioles. These EMF/EMR-fields enable different chemical-reactions to take place in the vicinity of the centrioles. “Snapping” also/alternatively releases a particlecurrent. Sugars are sugars because, when they are “snapped”, sugars DO NOT break-apart into two-or-more molecules, so they DO NOT leave pollutants behind… also-knownas chimney-soot.
VACUOLES (?) - NUTRIENT TRANSPORTS Nutrients from the digestive-system (intestines, stomach, and mouth) are packaged into nutrient-transport organelles, vacuoles. Each vacuole is tagged with a chemicalID “flavor”, indicating roughly what kind of nutrients are in the organelle. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vacuole) Nutrient-filled vacuoles are released into the bloodstream.
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November 12, 2011 Cells grab the desired vacuoles from the bloodstream when the cells’ inventories are low. They occasionally experiment with new vacuole-“flavors”. Once vacuoles are consumed, cells eject the empty vacuoles into the bloodstream, marked with an indicator-chemical showing that the vacuoles have already been emptied. The emptied-vacuoles are consumed by the liver. Cells learn what “flavors” of vacuoles they most-often use. Very-very simplistically/theoretically: When an animal’s body is low on a certain “flavor” of vacuole, the animal’s saliva and food-cravings adjust so that the animal seeks-out certain types of food.
LYSOSOMES(?) - WASTE-EXCRETION ORGANELLE Lysosomes store waste-chemicals. They are evacuated into the bloodstream and/or lymphatic-vessels during sleep/rest. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lysosome, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lymphatic_vessels) An animal’s liver cleans-up lysosomes from the bloodstream. Lysomes in the lymphatic-vessels eventually end-up in the small-intestine. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liver, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Small_intestine)
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ORGANELLE REPRODUCTION Organelles are NOT reproduced by DNA. All organelles must be able to reproduce WITHOUT the direct-aid of the cell’s DNA. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organelle) Simply put, ALL organelles contain “genetics”, information used to replicate the organelle. The “genetics” are NOT-necessarily in the form of DNA. They are in often the form of an organelle’s shape and chemical-composition. Various organelle reproduction-schemas exist:
Ellipsoidal organelles sometimes create a reverse-mirror copy of themselves on their insides (or outsides). The ellipsoidal-membrane temporarily splits, and the inside reverse-mirror copy gets pushed outside, where it inflates.
Ellipsoidal organelles with homogenous surfaces can reproduce by enlarging-and-stretching, and then pinching-together in the center.
Flat washer-shaped organelles (what I have been calling prions) reproduce by creating a reverse-mirror copy of themselves, kind-of like CD or record stamping. Prions are not technically organelles because they aren’t complicated-enough. Search the document for other discussions about prions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prion, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compact_Disc_manufacturing)
Tubular organelles can grow in length, and then crack in half.
The nucleus of a cell creates a copy of itself by dividing its DNA in half, mirroring the halves, pulling-apart the DNA copies, and then dividing the nucleus membrane in half. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dna)
A cell is a meta-organelle, which first duplicates its nucleus and a few-other key organelles. It then separates the key organelles, and divides itself by pinching the midpoint cell-membrane together.
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A virus is a meta-organelle. Viruses shells are not replicated based-on DNA instructions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Virus)
Cells maintain metrics about how healthy they are relative to other cells in the body. If a cell is healthier than other cells: 1.
Healthiest-cells cause their organelles to over-reproduce, except for the nucleus, and perhaps the mitochondria. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitochondrion)
2.
Healthiest-cells turn their cell-walls export-permeable, so that overabundant organelles flow-out. This typically occurs during a cell’s sleep-cycle.
3.
Excess organelles flow into the animal’s blood stream, or into adjacent cells.
4.
Unhealthy cells become import-permeable to organelles. This occurs during a cell’s sleep-cycle
INTRA-SPECIES AND INTER-SPECIES ORGANELLE TRANSFERS Viruses, malarias, bacterium, and paramecium pick-up organelles from their source animal. Viruses (and other infectious-agents) deposit the picked-up organelles into the infected animal’s bloodstream and cells. 2956 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The transfer of semi-incompatible organelles from one animal to another by viruses (and other infectious-agents), is often what makes the animal ill. However, the transfer of compatible organelles sometimes improves the animal’s health. If an animal-population spends all of its time around its own species, the “genetic” varieties of organelles in the species declines. The health and personalities of the individuals change. If a population interacts with other species, and is infected with their viruses (and other infectious-agents), new organelles from the other species keep the individuals’ organelle-“genetics” flexible. This also affects the personalities of individuals.
ENDOCYTOSIS Cell sleep-and-rest cycles:
Sleep-and-rest cycles control which organelles are imported/exported from a cell. (Mentioned above.)
Sleep-and-rest cycles control which chemicals are imported/exported from the cells. Some chemicals can only be imported/exported into/from a cell while it is at rest. Other chemical exchanges are sleep-cycle dependent. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Endocytosis)
Exercise-motion and massage forces some chemicals to be squeezed-out of cells.
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CELL TYPES RED/WHITE BLOOD-CELLS Red blood-cells are NOT animal cells. They are “malarias” that have symbiotic relationships with the animal host. The relationship is so symbiotic, that animal fetuses are ALWAYS intentionally-infected with red-blood-cell progenitor-cells. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_blood_cell, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malaria, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hemocytoblast) Fetuses receive transplants of red-blood-cell progenitor-cells through their umbilical cord, from their mother. Even bird-eggs contain red-blood-cell progenitorcells, located near the yolk. By the way, blood-transfusions can be very dangerous, since some red-blood-cell progenitor-cells can be transfused. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hematopoietic_stem_cell) SEVERAL species of red blood-cells live in an individual’s body. Like red blood-cells, many white blood-cells are NOT animal-cells either. White blood-cells are NOT malarias. They come from a completely-different lineage, living symbiotically in out bloodstream.
NERVE CELLS Nerve-cells are VERY-different from other animal cell-types: fat, muscle, connective tissue, etcetera. Being so different, nerve-cells need special nutrition. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neuron) One of the reasons why nerve-cells require different nutrition, is that they are conveyor-cells that move nutrition to our extradimensional bodies (our soul). “Fine” 2958 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and “light” chemical-forms are more-easily and more-rapidly transported-out of our three-dimensional bodies, into our extradimensional bodies. Consequently, nervecells often require “fine” and “light” versions of sugars (complex-carbohydrates are NOT appreciated) and fatty-acids (such as Omega-3). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omega-3_fatty_acid)
FAT-CELLS Fat cells don’t just store fat; they manufacture nutrition chemicals. I discussed fat cells earlier in the document(s). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fat_cell)
EXTRADIMENSIONAL CELLS I might discuss these later.
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ANIMALS WASTE-CHEMICALS Waste-chemicals must be removed from the body. Some body-excretions are better-vehicles for removing some waste-chemicals. Some waste-chemicals are only-ever removed by specific body-excretions. Different body-excretions: Acne, antlers, earwax, exhaling, feathers, feces, fingernails, flaking skin-cells, hair, kidney-stones, perspiration, phlegm, saliva, sexual fluids, skin-oils, tears, urine,
SEXUAL CHEMICAL-DIMORPHISM Females produce chemicals that males cannot, and vice-versa. Females produce quaternion-EMF that males cannot, and vice-versa. Fetuses produces chemicals that females cannot. One of the reasons why sexual chemical-dimorphism exists, is because the efficientproduction of one chemical inhibits the efficient-production of other chemicals. An organism cannot efficiently/skillfully create all of the chemicals it needs. In hyperbole: Herbivorous-mammals do not produce chlorophyll, because herbivorous-mammals cannot efficiently produce-and-use chlorophyll… so herbivorous-mammals get their chlorophyll-originated “energy” by eating plants. Plants do not efficiently produce soil, so they let bacteria do the work. Bacteria do not efficiently produce proteins, so the let dead herbivorous-mammals do the work. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chlorophyll)
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November 12, 2011 Sexual chemical-dimorphism also ensures procreation. For males to remain healthy, females must be around, and vice-versa. For females to remain healthy, females require fetuses and infants to be around, and vice versa. Sexual chemical-dimorphism requires/encourages males and females to exchange bodily fluids, sometimes including skin oils. Males and females sleep next to oneanother for body-EMF reasons. Pets are opposite-gender substitutes.
ENVIRONMENTAL QUATER NION-EMF One reason why animals move-about their environment, is to experience different quaternion-EMF. Stone-ground produces different fields than dark-soil ground. Environmental-EMF affects health.
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November 12, 2011
RANDOM CONCLUSIONS – DIET Earth-Sol scientists test chemical-additives by observing how-quickly rats die after consuming large quantities of the additives. Do they test the rats for lowered intelligence? What kind of intelligence do they test for? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal_testing) According to the aliens, many legal Earth-Sol food-additives reduce our intelligence. They also reduce our fertility, life-span, and quality-of-life.
PRESERVATIVES Preservatives are dangerous. Preservatives preserve because: a)
They make food less-nutritious, particularly for microbes. If a food-item is less-nutritious for a microbe, it is most-likely less-nutritious for us, though perhaps still somewhat nutritious.
b) Preservatives slow-down microbe-reproduction, often by slowing-down the reproduction of organelles. A slow-down in animal-cell reproduction is particularly dangerous to animals’ hearts, because heart-cells are always reproducing themselves. c)
Preservatives cause infertility in animals.
d) Some preservatives kill any microbes that consume them. If a preservative kills microbes, it will most-likely at-least harm animals.
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November 12, 2011
UNHEALTHY FOOD-ITEMS Popular LEGAL food-items contain substances that are unhealthy when consumed regularly:
Soft-drinks
Coffee
Alcohol
Cigarettes
LOW-TOXIN FOODS Our farmers have bred-out yucky-tasting toxins from food-crops. Our food-refiners also chemically-and-physically remove yucky-tasting toxins. Our food-manufacturers produce meals from ingredients devoid of yucky-tasting toxins. Foods with yucky-tasting toxins are often healthier for us, because:
The toxins combat parasites in our bodies, such as bacteria, malarias, and intestinal worms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intestinal_worms)
Engineered low-toxin food-crops are tastier to insect-pests, requiring the crops be sprayed with more pesticides. Pesticides aren’t healthy.
Engineered low-toxin foods are low in trace-nutrients.
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November 12, 2011 People who eat low-nutrition food must eat more of it to stay healthy. They subconsciously-and-automatically eat more food. They gain weight as a consequence.
If our inbuilt food preferences-and-cravings are working properly, we should prefer foods high in nutrition, and high in trace-nutrients, but low in toxins. Low-nutrition foods are eschewed. Food-items that do not have much nutrition must be flavor-enhanced to remain palatable… by deep-frying the food-item, adding artificial flavors, adding fat, adding sugar, adding salt, and/or adding MSG. MSG is a distinctly-unhealthy additive. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monosodium_glutamate) Flavor-enhanced low-toxin LOW-NUTRITION food is more-palatable than high-toxin HIGH-NUTRITION food.
In our society, 50-ish food-items have been engineered to contain very-few toxins. These include white flour, white rice, white potatoes, processed cheese, granulated sugar, white chicken, and non-gamy red-meat. The 50ish food-items contain far-FEWER trace-nutrients. Almost all of our food is constructed from the 50-ish low-toxin food-items. Our diet is low-and-patchy in trace-nutrients thanks the limited food-item selection. The variety of trace-nutrients we consume has diminished over the last 75 years. Since fat-cells produce nutrients and trace-nutrients that we don’t get from our food, our nutrition-starved bodies produce more fat-cells, so they can produce nutrition-chemicals that compensate for our low-nutrition diet. We become obese. Fat-cell-produced nutrients are inferior to those found in fresh foods.
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November 12, 2011
LOW-INTELLIGENCE EATING As a hyperbole: 1.
Low-intelligence people make all of the wrong food-choices. They prefer high-preservative low-toxin foods. They regularly consume soft-drinks, coffee, alcohol, and cigarettes.
2.
Their poor diet lowers their intelligence. Hampered by even lowerintelligence, they make poorer food-choices. Intelligence-diminishment eventually maximize-out.
3.
Low-intelligence parents raise their children on low-quality food. Their children have permanently-reduced IQs.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Controlled earthquake detonation – Governments regularly detonate “slippery bombs” near underground fault-line to induce small earthquakes. They are typically set-off near less-populated regions of the fault, hopefully-minimizing casualties and property damage. Slippery-bombs are detonated when geological stresses indicate a risk of earthquakes, and/or when time-prophecies warn of possible earthquakes. Before a slippery-bomb is detonated, potentially-affected populations are warned of the possibility of an earthquake. People on “non-disclosed” planets cannot be warned of the imminent detonation of a slippery-bomb because the existence of slippery-bombs is either “classified” or not-believed-in. Earthquake activation is still an inexact science art. Earthquakes can rapidly get out-of-hand. And, they can zipper over a number of decades, producing distant follow-on earthquakes that might be more-severe than the earthquake originally produced by the slippery-bomb.
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN-RACE SKETCHES (PART 3) ARCHAEOPTERYX-EVOLVED
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archaeopteryx)
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November 12, 2011
SEA-TURTLE EVOLVED
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea_turtle)
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November 12, 2011
DOLPHIN-EVOLVED
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolphin)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (24/8/2011) HOMINOID EMPIRE #8 ( OUT OF 10?)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
A MAJOR war was fought against the Hominoids, beginning in 1890. A truce halted the war in 1994, though the war still simmers. (-, 7-8) The war-metaorganism has jumped the firebreak at (, 7-8), and ignited our region (, 7). Most of the highest-technology Hominoid military-vessels that are arriving in our region, come from the “1890 – 1994 war”, (-, 7-8). Many of the highest-technology Hominoid military-vessels are provided by non-Hominoids. The weapons were provided to help the Hominoid-Empire survive the “1890 – 1994 war”, 2970 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 and-also so that the Hominoids would/will accomplish military-tasks for some of the non-Hominoid nations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firebreak)
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Why do four-legged deer run-across the road, in-front of oncoming automobiles? (The same question can be asked about kangaroos.) Some answers, from former four-legged deer:
“Most of the times that we run-across the road, there are no automobiles on the road... so you don’t see us do that.”
Automobiles are obvious predators. They are large. They move veryquickly. And they are (relatively) quiet.
Roads are obviously the domain of predator-automobiles. We become very-cautious and skittish when we are about to enter into a predator’s domain. Woodland clearings are equally as dangerous, in our minds.
We typically sleep during the day and darkest-night. We don’t cross the road when automobiles are most-visible.
Two approaching-headlights (at night or dusk) are NOT perceived as an automobile. We rarely look at the lights head-on. Out of the corner of our left-or-right eye, the two approaching-headlights look like two moons on the horizon. “If we were scared-off every-time we saw two moons, we’d never get any work done.”
When those two moons approach closely-enough, they illuminate the road, letting us see all of the way to the other side. How convenient!
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November 12, 2011 cross the road.”
“Vroom,” goes the automobile engine. “Holy shit! An automobile snuck-up while we were paying attention to the moons! Run!”
WATER MOLECULE
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... What do housecats think when they fall-off a bookshelf, or a window-ledge?
Contrary to urban-myth, they do NOT think, “Oops. To save embarrassment, I will pretend that I meant to do that.”
They think: The housecat begins to slide-off the bookshelf, or window-ledge. “Shit... what’s happening? Why am I moving?” They hit the ground, nearly-automatically landing on their feet. Intellectual reorientation-pause. “What am I doing here [on the ground]?” “I have no clue.” “What should I do now?” “Well, I have too-much adrenaline running through my body to goback to catnapping. I think I was doing that.” “Food might be a good alternative, but I have too-much adrenaline to eat.” “I think I’ll find something-else to do.” Housecat walks-off.
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November 12, 2011
WAR HISTORY (PART 2)
1890 – A war against the Hominoids begins at ( , 8). It eventually expands to cover ( - , 7 - 8). (See the above map.)
1947 – A
Grey UFO crashes near Roswell, New Mexico, USA.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_incident)
1955-ish – The local Hominoids (in our region) had been belligerent. In 1955, they greatly-reduce their belligerency. War-tensions reduce. The local Hominoids begin interacting with the Greys and Mammaloids on morefriendly terms.
1968 – Fashion-sense on Earth-Sol begins to plummet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1960s_in_fashion)
1974 – Fashion-sense on Earth-Sol hits an all-time low. The same can be said about popular-music – “disco”. See “The Hominoid “Computer”” section, below. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1970s_in_fashion, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bell-bottoms, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disco_music)
1975 – The period of détente with the local Hominoids ends. They soon begin invading “Our pasture”, a Horse-evolved multiracial-zone at (HH, 7) on the map illustrated in “War update (14/7/2011)”. The “Time of peace” (from 1955 – 1975) may have been a Hominoid ploy to fool the local Mammaloids into “letting their guard down”. It worked.
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November 12, 2011 1984 – Four years of the Regan-presidency restores Earth-Sol’s fashionsense. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Regan, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1980s_in_fashion)
1994 – A truce is reached with the Hominoids. The 1890-war falls to a simmer.
2008 – Despite (or because-of) the 1994 truce, the war-metaorganism from ( - , 7 - 8) jumps the firebreak to our region (, 7).
A randomly deep thought Alotian automobile-manufacturers paint their automobile-hoods a matte charcoal-grey to reduce glare, and save lives. The rest of the automobile-body is a different colour.
THE HOMINOID “COMPUTER”
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November 12, 2011
PERSONAL-INFORMATION-MANAGERS GONE-AWRY Everyone on Earth-Sol has a “Personal-information manager” (PIM) application on their mobile-phone or computer. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Personal_information_manager) Consider the following “advancing” feature-set for your personal-information manager: a)
You can enter meetings into your personal-information manager. When the meeting is about to happen, your phone/computer beeps at you, reminding you to attend the meeting.
b) You enter tasks. Your phone/computer shows you what tasks you have to do, and sorts the list by a priority and due-date. c)
Your personal-information manager supports reoccurring meetings and tasks. It can hypothetically organizing your future, for years to come.
d) Other people can invite you to meetings using their personal-information manager. Meetings-times are arranged automatically by the computersoftware. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microsoft_Outlook) e) If your work-team has a group-assistant, he/she can silently add meetings and tasks to your personal-information manager. You spend your entire work-day in the meeting-rooms that your personal-information manager tells you sit in. Meetings also occur. This is was a manager-position at Microsoft Corporation was like in the 1990’s, when I worked there. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microsoft) f)
(Future) Are you tired of hearing a beep, and then fumbling with your phone/computer to read the personal-information manger’s meeting-alert? What if your personal-information manager used speech-synthesis and spoke, “You have a meeting with George in ten minutes”? You wouldn’t
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November 12, 2011 have to remove the phone from your pocket, or open-up your computer. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speech_synthesis) g)
(Future) What if your personal-information manager tracked your location using your phone’s/computer’s GPS? Path-finding algorithms could walk (or drive) you from your current location, to your meeting’s location. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GPS_navigation_device, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathfinding, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A*_search_algorithm)
h) (Future) Using your GPS, your personal-information manager could recognize that you were near a shopping-mall. If your wardrobe wasn’t upto-date (fashionable), then your personal-information manager could schedule an impromptu “meeting” at the mall’s department-store, pointing you towards the most-fashionable clothing items. i)
(Future) What if your personal-information manager recognized that some of your friends lived in a city that you were visiting? Your personalinformation manager could automatically set-up a get-together “meeting” with your friends.
j)
(Future) What if your personal-information manager kept an audio recording of every phone-call you ever made? Or of every meeting? Or of your entire life?
k)
(Future) Your entire-life could be videoed from your phone’s/computer’s camera.
l)
(Future) What if your personal-information manager could wirelesslyconnect to your telepathy-implants, and telepathically-“thump” you when you were about to have a meeting? Telepathic-thumps could also remind you to pay-attention to tasks you keep putting-off. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bluetooth)
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November 12, 2011 “The Sims” is a computer-game where computer-controlled characters live in a house, apartment-complex, or village. As the computer-game player, one of your tasks is to telepathically-thump computer-controlled characters in “The Sims”. Your telepathic-thumps get them to eat, visit the toilet, study for school, look for jobs, and fall in love. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sims_(series) ) If you DO NOT telepathically-thump the computer-controlled characters, limited computer “artificial intelligence” takes-over. Without your help, the computercontrolled characters in “The Sims” still live their lives, but they don’t perform as well as if you were controlling them. Flip that around. What if a computer “artificial intelligence” took-control of every personalinformation manager (PIM) in the world? Its job would be to get you to eat at the right times, visit the toilet at opportune times between meetings, study for school, look for jobs, and fall in love. I have experience programming computer-game “artificial intelligence”. Each computer-controlled character consumes about 0.1% of a 10-gigahertz computerprocessor. In other words, one computer-processor can run 1000 virtual-people in “The Sims”. Flip THAT around. One computer-processor can run 1000 REAL people in “The PIMs”… not quite.
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November 12, 2011
A COMPUTER CORE Hominoid “computer cores” are cylinders, 10-meters in diameter, by 100-meters deep. They are buried hundreds of meters below the ground. Sometimes they are buried a few kilometers deep. Their depth ensures that aquifer-sourced water is readily available for cooling and wetting an “electrolytic”-concrete. Deeply-positioned, computers are protected them from hacking (via physical access) and enemy/terrorist-attacks. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrolyte) Beneath every computer-core is a fissile-material emergency-backup battery. The batteries are constructed from bomb-grade fissile radioactive-materials. They can power the computer-core for ten years without recharging. The batteries are buried deeper than the cores because the fissile-materials are very-dangerous when detonated by an enemy/terrorist-attack. The computer-cores are normally powered by the planet’s-or-city’s power-grid. Planet-wide power comes from 2000-kilometer-long rivers of solid-metal, which pull energy from the planet’s rotation. City power-plants, much-more common, get their energy from 10-kilometer diameter current-loop rings beneath the city-centre. Since most planets have no planet-wide power, and rely on city power-plants, computer-cores are most-commonly built near city centers… typically underneath them. Computer cores are poured slurry of 3-mm computer-peas, suspended in a “cement” that is water-and-EMF permeable. Surrounding the core-cylinder is a 100-meter-tall tube of EMF-transducers. A tube cross-section is composed of 20-plus EMF-transducer boxes. A pair of diametricallyopposite transducer-boxes generates large EMF-fields, of opposite EMF-charges. The resulting field, and particle-current flows across the core, power the computer-peas. Each diametrically-opposed transducer-pair is only on for a few seconds, before the next clockwise-pair is “lit up”. The transducers cycle-around clockwise (or counterclockwise) a few times a minute. 2979 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
COMPUTER “PEAS” A computer-pea is a sphere, 3-millimeters in diameter. Each computer-pea has:
1 – 10 gigahertz of processing power.
0.1 – 1 gigabytes of RAM.
5 – 50 gigabytes of permanent storage.
A small wireless transmitter, which can communicate with all computerpeas within a 5-centimeters radius.
An “induction coil” to collect energy from the surrounding EMF-ring. Each computer-pea consumes 0.01-ish watts of power. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Induction_coil)
A few seconds of energy storage.
A water-impermeable membrane protects the pea.
Not all computer-peas are the same. Many are specialized processors, just as graphics-coprocessors and DSPs are specialized-processors. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graphics_coprocessor, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digital_signal_processor)
Each computer-pea costs $0.005 - $0.10.
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November 12, 2011 The implants described in the book, “Casebook: Alien implants (Whitley Strieber’s Hidden Agendas)” are most-likely Hominid computer-technology. Computer-peas may use similar underlying technology, though not designed for to be implanted into people’s bodies. (http://www.amazon.com/Casebook-Implants-Whitley-StriebersAgendas/dp/044023641X)
COMPUTER-CORE COSTS A single 10-meter-diameter by 100-meter-deep computer-core:
Has 0.25 * 1000-centimeters x 1000-centimeters x x 10,000-centimeters x 4 peas/square-centimeter = 31-billion computer-peas. The computer-peas cost approximately $0.62-billion. Add the core’s battery, power-supply, EMF-ring, cooling-system, and excavation... Total cost for a core is $1-billion to $4-billion.
The peak-power-consumption of a single-core is approximately 300 megawatts. A typical first-world Earth-Sol house uses 1 kilowatt. A core consumes as much power as 300,000 houses. Power-consumption can fall to one-tenth of peak-power when the compute-resources aren’t in demand.
Heat is dissipated via an underground heat-sync, aquifer, as well as a highrise building built-above the core.
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November 12, 2011
HOW MANY COMPUTER-CORES ARE THERE ON A PLANET? How many computer-cores are there on a planet?
On a war-enabled planet, a guestimate of $100,000 is spent per resident on computer-cores and their infrastructure. A core lasts 200 years. Hominid planets that are not expected to be near a war-zone might have one-tenth the computer-cores.
$1-to-4-billion / $100,000 = 1 core per 10,000 – 40,000 residents.
WHAT IS THE CORE’S COMPUTATIONAL POWER USED FOR? What is the core’s computational power used for?
31-billion computer-peas / 40,000 residents = 775,000 computer-peas per resident.
Our Earth-Sol society has the equivalent of 1 computer-pea per resident. Each per-capita Earth-Sol computer-pea handles telephone-traffic, banking, internet-services, and computer-games.
As discussed in “Personal-information managers gone awry”, 0.1% of 1 computer-pea can micromanage someone’s day. To be on the safe side, I will claim that every Hominid in the Hominoid-Empire has at least 1 computer-pea managing them.
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November 12, 2011 Simplistically, 1 computer-pea per Hominid can ensure that people make no decisions.
8:12 AM – “Wake up.”
8:32 AM – “Begin taking a shower.”
8:44 AM – “Leave your shower, get dressed, and look out your window towards your neighbor’s house.”
8:46 AM, on your neighbor’s task-list – “Say “Hello” to your neighbor when you see him. [You].”
8:47 AM – “Reply with a “Good morning” back to your neighbor.”
8:58 AM – “You will select two pieces of multigrain-bread from your refrigerator, and put them in the toaster.”
9:07 AM – “You will have finished-eating the bread.”
12:15 PM, two days later – “You will be reminded to purchase more multigrain-bread when you go shopping.”
All of the mundane-thoughts of your life are allocated to your computer-pea. Your mind is tasked with vision-recognition, speech-recognition, walking, manipulating tools, working, and occasional socialization with other people.
A second computer-pea per-person could maintain lifetime-long records on the person, collected from telepathy-implant telemetry. Recordsmaintenance would also include personality/mood analysis.
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November 12, 2011 The same amount of compute-resources applied to Hominid citizens could be used to micromanage the lives of non-Hominoids in the region. They could be subliminally telepathically-influenced. At the very-least, a few computer-peas per non-Hominoid could be dedicated to promoting Hominoid fashion-products.
In times of war:
Compute-power could be applied to decrypting and analyzing enemy signals.
Of course, non-Hominoids wouldn’t willingly submit to micromanagement by the Hominid computer. 10-times as-many computer-peas could monitor and then subliminally “cajole” most enemy-individuals into (at-least) being less-effective enemies. For example: An enemy’s computer-peas can easily take-over your threeyear-old child, and turn them into a monster, who is both emotionallydraining and time-consuming.
If enough enemy-individuals are monitored (as well as micromanaged), then the enemy-nation’s actions can be predicted (and influenced).
At any point-in-time, the Hominid computer-system might be modeling 100-possible war-scenarios. For each war-scenario, the Hominid-computer would (roughly) decide how it should “cajole” people to facilitate the war, both Hominoid-citizens and enemy-individuals.
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November 12, 2011
COMPUTER-PLANETS A computer-planet is a planet dedicated to computer-cores. Computer-planets have the equivalent of 10-billion people’s-worth of computer-cores, but only hundreds-ofmillions of citizens. Computer-planets are “closed cities”, keeping them safe from spies, terrorists, and enemies. They are NOT listed on any public map, and are only accessible by employees, and their immediate families. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Closed_city) Computer-planets have planet-moving “handles” built-into the planets, making it easier to haul them long-distances. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luggable)
WAR HISTORY (PART 2-B) It takes 20 – 25 years for a computer-planet to be hauled from the edge of the “1890 – 1994 War” (, 7 - 8), to our taurosphere. It takes even-longer to haul them into the Simian Nations (, 7 - 8) Hominoids began hauling their computer-planets from the edge of the “1890 – 1994 War” to our region ( - , 7) about 40 years ago. Computer-planets continue to be hauled here. Being artificially-intelligent, a computer-planet knows all of the war-tactics up-to the date that it was hauled-away from the war. A computer-planet from the warzone can educate local computer-planets in war-tactics that it knows.
1993 – The first war-computer-planet reaches our region. It was skilled in war-tactics used in 1971.
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November 12, 2011 2011 (Now) – War-computers skilled in the war-tactics from 1989 are nowarriving.
2016 – War-computers skilled in war-tactics through the end of the war willhave arrived here.
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November 12, 2011
HOW TELEVISION AND COMPUTER-GAMES AFFECT THE AFTERLIFE WHERE DO PEOPLE ON EARTH-SOL GO AFTER THEY DIE? In broad strokes, this is what happens to people’s awarenesses (and souls) after they die:
Caucasians who decide to remain Hominids (95% of Caucasians) o
Reborn on Earth-Sol in a three-year-old’s body, without memories (5%)
o
Moved elsewhere in the Hominoid Empire
o
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The Six Kingdoms, Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk), and elsewhere in the Milky-Way Galaxy are most-common.
They are either merged with someone else, given a handme-down body, or a new synthesized-body.
They are almost-always told it is 50 to 3000 years later, and that Earth-Sol was destroyed.
Moved onto non-Disclosed planets controlled-and-protected by Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved people.
Most Christians accept this option.
Typically “reborn” into a three-year-old’s body, with memories of their previous life.
November 12, 2011 Non-Caucasians who decide to remain Hominids (85% of non-Caucasians) o
Reborn on Earth-Sol in a three-year-old’s body, with no memories (5%)
o
Moved elsewhere in the Hominoid Empire
o
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Some non-Caucasians are “granted” Caucasian-bodies by the Hominoid Empire. They end-up in The Six Kingdoms, Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk), and elsewhere in the Milky-Way Galaxy.
Non-Caucasian planets exist. They are often 1900’s – 1960’s technology-levels. Some have spaceplane access.
People are typically merged with someone else, or “reborn” into a three-year-old’s body, without memories of their previous life.
Asians are treated better than others sub-races.
Moved onto non-Disclosed planets controlled-and-protected by Gecko-evolved and Chameleon-evolved people.
As per Caucasians on Gecko-evolved and Chameleonevolved non-disclosed planets.
Non-Caucasians are most-typically provided Caucasian bodies.
November 12, 2011 Earth-Sol people who request to become non-Hominoids (5% of Caucasians, 15% of non-Caucasians) o
Provided a synthesized Simian or Ring-Tailed-Lemur body, and placed on one of several planets in the Orion Spur.
o
Provided a synthesized Simian-body in Barumba-Galaxy or AyumGalaxy.
o
Synthesized Rabbit-evolved body on the “east side” of our taurosphere.
o
Less-commonly: Chimpanzee-evolved, Chipmunk-evolved,
Grey,
Rat-evolved, and Squirrel-evolved. o
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At least one science-fiction comedy-author moved to the aquaticzone.
November 12, 2011
HOW DO THE “RENT-A-DEATHS” KNOW WHERE PEOPLE WANT TO GO AFTER THEY DIE?
If all of your friends “entered the light” after they died (after jumping-off a cliff/bridge), would you? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afterlife, http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/If_All_Your_Friends_Jumped_Off_A_Bri dge)
Earth-Sol society is ignorant about what happens to people after they die. Rent-adeaths find it VERY difficult to place some Earth-Sol people because of this. If someone does-not have a sufficiently-detailed database-entry, they are “asked” to make split-second knee-jerk decisions about their next life. Death: “Where do you want to go in your next life?” Earth-Sol person: “I want to go to heaven.” Death: Exasperated sigh. “Of course you want to go to heaven. Only one in ninety-two people want to go to hell, and they’re just saying that because they’re contrarian prats.” Death: “What do you want to look like in heaven?” Earth-Sol person: “You mean I don’t have to look like myself? Hmm. Let me see. How about 6’ 2”, well-built, and with blond hair?” Death: Another exasperated sigh. “We offer other plans, which you may not have heard about: Would you like to be furred? Or how-about having green skin?” Earth-Sol person: “Fur? Why do angels have fur?”
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November 12, 2011 Death: “You could be an animal [person].” Earth-Sol person: “You mean like a horse?” Death: “You did like horseback-riding on as a teenager. Do you want to be a pony?” (Note that Death suggestive-sells ponies over horses, because someone made a few-billion too-many pony-bodies.) Earth-Sol person: “Sure. Sounds good.” Death: Poof! You’re a pony.
Science-fiction, fantasy, religious, and occult movies (and computer-games) all have an effect on people’s afterlife-decisions. People’s split-second afterlife-decisions are greatly-affected by popular movies and television-series.
Thanks to Steven Spielberg’s movies, every hard-core science-fiction fan wants to either be a Klingon or a
Grey. There are no Klingons, by the way.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Spielberg, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klingon)
Thanks to Steven Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park” film, no-one wants to be a Tyrannosaurus-Rex, because they’re portrayed as stupid and malevolent. One person wanted to be a Brontosaurus. The Brontosaurus-person was a bit peeved when they woke-up, though. They were only two-meters tall, and had a yellow-cream stomach, and a magenta back. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jurassic_Park_(film), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brontosaurus)
The “World of Warcraft” game currently-causes quite-a-few requests for an “undead” race – “The Forsaken”. Unfortunately, we do not have an
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November 12, 2011 “undead” race on offer. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_of_Warcraft http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_of_warcraft_races)
The more alternative-“afterlife” theories that television and computer-games point-out, the more “material” that rent-a-deaths have to work with. If you’re a screenwriter or game-designer, PLEASE depict a variety of “death-regime” theories from the different religions of the world.
A randomly deep thought Four-legged Horse-evolved people look and smell like animal horses. They are major proponents of Horse-accessibility concerns, particularly dealing with staircases, narrow hallways, and toilets – for up-to Clydesdale-sized and Draught-sized horses. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clydesdale_(horse), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draught_horse, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draught_horse) They sometimes pretend to be animal horses, just to test-you, and piss-you off. If you are fooled into thinking that they might be an animal, they continue to pretend to be an animal... occasionally giving you unsubtle hints that they are more-intelligent than you.
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November 12, 2011
ARCHITECTURE (PART 9) GREY VILLAGE-CENTRE
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November 12, 2011
FOUR-LEGGED HORSE VILLAGE
“Simple simplicity”
Village-streets resemble canyons because Horses feel safe-and-cool in canyons. Buildings are red-earth color and tall, all the same height. Visiondistances are limited.
Doorways are accented with artificial “bluffs”. Horse-eyes don’t notice doorways on buildings off-to-their sides, unless the doorways are accented by a “bluff”.
Horse-evolved people DO NOT like signs, with text or images. Four-legged Horses have excellent directional and location memory, not to mention having built-in GPS’s and city-directories. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GPS_navigation_device)
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November 12, 2011 Bluff-accented doorways are rectangular, since arch-doorways accented by bluffs look ungainly. Horses prefer non-bluffed doorways to be large archeddoorways.
Streets, which double as sidewalks, are red rammed-earth.
From above
When buildings fall-back from a street, the roadway remains centered between the buildings. AND, a separate roadway follows along-side the buildings, to the left-and-right. This results in pitch-fork roads.
People ALWAYS congregate in treed grassy-areas. Shops and entertainment buildings surround the treed grassy-areas. A wedge-shaped building typically sits in the center of the grassy-area, to encourage a canyon-feel.
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November 12, 2011
Houses are set-back two or three buildings from the treed grassy-areas. No-one likes their house to be close to commonly-used public-spaces.
House-entrances are often at the end of a canyon-like alleyway. The alley almost-always ends in a wall. During the middle of the day and darkest-night, wild-horses rest at the dead-ends of canyons, called “canyon-tails”. A canyon-tail can be defended by a troop of resting Horses, against predators. Children standand-rest against the canyon-tail’s rear-wall, facing sideways. Adults standand-rest in front of the children, facing the canyon-tail’s entrance.
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November 12, 2011
Horse-house interior
Terracotta-tile floors.
Low-countertops so children can eat-off them.
Children that aren’t toilet-trained sleep standing-up in the bathroom.
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November 12, 2011
RAT PLASTIC-HOUSE
Construction: 1.
Join aluminum “foundation-wall” segments together, just like you would a model-railroad train-track. Segments with various curves are selected from a catalog of exterior wall-foundations, interior wall-foundations, windows, and doorways. Unused segments can be returned to the store for a verysmall surcharge. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Model_railroad)
2.
Pour concrete. Exterior foundation-wall segments double as concrete forms.
3.
Erect a rebar-scaffolding dome. The rebar fits into clamp-slots, pre-formed into the foundation-wall segments. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rebar)
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November 12, 2011 4.
Twist-tie plastic “chicken-wire” to the interior of the rebar-scaffolding dome.
5.
Have one person on the inside, hold an “interior-wall” flexi-sheet against the chicken-wire. A second person approaches from the outside, and pushes an “adhesive flexi-sheet” against the “interior-wall” flexi-sheet. The two sheets are backed with Velcro, and stick-together with a bit of rubbing pressure.
6.
A heat-gun melts the Velcro tines together, welding-together the two flexisheets.
7.
Flexible “plastic” roofing-mats (since they aren’t really tiles) are C-clamped (or twist-tied) onto the rebar-scaffolding dome exterior.
8.
No painting is necessary, ever. Magic-markers and children’s paints wipeoff the interior walls.
A randomly deep thought
GREYS will research and know more about you, and your culture, than you will.
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November 12, 2011
TELEVISION AND COMPU TER-GAME DISTRIBUTION AFTER THE WAR The war will end at some point. Whichever side wins (and most-likely neither side will win), both sides will want to assuage anti-enemy tensions. Assuming that Earth-Sol isn’t destroyed during the war:
Being a movie-and-television centre-of-excellence, people on Earth-Sol may be asked to produce movies (and television shows) to promote reconciliation.
Virtual-world computer-games could also be used to promote reconciliation. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Virtual_world, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massively_multiplayer_online_roleplaying_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First-person_shooter, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Computer_role-playing_game) Tablets and/or net-books can easily be distributed to other Hominidplanets, preinstalled with computer-games (and videos). Unfortunately, Earth-Sol computers are so high-tech that many/most of the tablets and net-books will be immediately-dismantled for reverse-engineering. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tablet_computer, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netbook) Another issue: Neither the computer-games, nor the operating-system, will be-able to rely on internet-access for game-play, copy-protection verification, and/or updates. (By the way, internet software-updates are wide-open hacking-backdoors that will be exploited immediately, particularly on internets set-up on other planets.)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The “Piquit” or “Piqui” (formerly-accidently known at the “Tirkeet”) will know more about you, and your psychology, than the Greys will.
THE ANCIENT ART OF CONVERSATIONS (PART 5 )
Person’s age
Person-originated conversation
Adult-originated Conversation
1 (Infant)
Child: Cry
Adult: Hug
3 (Toddler)
Child: “Milk”, “Donut”
Adult: “Do you want some milk?” Child: “Yes”
6
Child: “Look at the bird, mommy!”
Adult: “Do you want to wear your red shirt or blue shirt today?” Child: “Blue.”
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November 12, 2011 9 Child: “I learned in school that birds lay eggs.” “What kind of eggs do chickens lay?”
Adult: “Do you want to wear your red shirt of blue shirt today?” Child: “Neither. I am going to wear my green pants.”
Child: “They’re brown!” Adult: “Would that be appropriate for the party?” Child: Blank-response. 9
Coordinating session: Child-A: “I am going over there. [Boy points.] You throw me the ball.” Child-B: “Wait. That won’t work. There’s a tree in the way.” Child-A: “Okay. I’ll walk that way then. [Boy points in another direction.]” Child-B: “Sounds good.”
9
Information-relaying that only one person cares-about: Child-A: “I just got past level-ten on the video-game.” Child-B: “Do you want a banana from the fridge?” Child-A: “It was a really-cool level. All I had to do was press “up” twice.” Child-B: “There are two oranges in here if you want.”
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November 12, 2011 12 Social bonding: (Earlyteenager) Teenager-A: “How you doing?” Teenager-B: “Fine.” Teenager-A: “Want to watch television?” Teenager-B: “No.” 12
Clarification: Teenager-A: “What kind of power-figure do you have?” Teenager-B: “I have the green one.” Teenager-A: “Does he have a super-gun or the jump-boosters?” Teenager-B: “My power-figure is a girl.”
12
Information-relaying that both people care-about: Teenager-A: “If you want to get past level ten on the video game, then press “up” twice over there.” Teenager-B: “Okay. Just wait. I’m almost there.” Teenager-A: “Yeah. Now!” Teenager-B: “Cool. Thanks.”
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November 12, 2011 15 Brainstorming session: Teenager-A: “I want to invent a boat.” Teenager-B: “It should have a sail.” Teenager-A: “How about a small steering-wheel in front, so you can see where you are going?” Teenager-B: “No. I want to add wings onto the side of the sailboat.” 15 for girls, 20 for men
Social information-relaying: Teenager-A: “Did you hear that Sandy was going out with Tom?” Teenager-B: “No. Really?” Teenager-A: “Yeah, and Sandy nearly pranged her mother’s automobile.”
20 women, 25 men (Adult)
Problem-solving session: Person-A: “We have a problem. Timmy [our son] isn’t doing well in school. What should we do?” Person-B: “Perhaps we should get him a private tutor?” Person-A: “How do we go-about hiring a tutor?” Person-B: “Alternatively, I could leave-work an hour-early everyday, so I am home for Timmy.”
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November 12, 2011 20 for women, Social information-relaying with intent: 25 for men Person-A: “Have you heard from Sally recently?” [Knowing full-well that she pranged her mother’s automobile.] Person-B: “Yeah. She started-work at a fast-food restaurant.” Person-A: “Really? Does she need the money?” 25 women, ??? men
Social clarification: Person-A: “What do you feel about our relationship?”
(Fully mature) Person-B: “I’m worried that we aren’t taking enough holidays together.” 25 women, ??? men
Subtly point-out limitations: Person-A: “So how is your job at the fast-food restaurant going?” Person-B: “It’s good. They’ve promoted me to manager. I’m now earning a dollar-an-hour more.” Person-A: “That’s nice. So what do your direct-reports think about you?” Person-B: “Uh. They don’t mind.” Person-A: “Have you signed them up for any employee-skills classes?” Person-B: “No. There’s a signup sheet in the back, near the employee lunch-room.” Person-A: “That’s convenient. Have you noticed which of your direct-reports eat lunch with one-another?” Person-B: Blank stare.
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November 12, 2011 ??? Thinking-outside-the-box problem-solving session: (Sophisticated adult) Person-A: “We have a problem. Timmy [our son] isn’t doing well in school. What should we do? Get him a tutor?” Person-B: “Maybe Timmy’s adult-life would be more-enjoyable if he didn’t do well in school. What kind of future career would Timmy want?” Person-A: “What makes for a more-enjoyable life?” Person-B: “I don’t know, but I feel compelled to do accounting-work now that I have an accounting-degree, despite my love of the outdoors. Maybe I would have been happier as a forest-ranger who had flunked-out of school.” Person-A: “I hadn’t thought about that. We can’t exactly ask Timmy what he wants to do, since he’ll just want to be a fireman at his current age. How do we get him to try different things to see what he would like to do?” ???
Meandering-session: (Brainstorming-session 2.0) Person-A: “I know nothing about trees… So here we go: What would happen if we could follow a tree’s growth back in time?” Person-B: “So how would we do that? Video the tree over a hundred years, and play the video in reverse?” Person-A: “No, because we don’t have that information. We could trace its tree-ring stems back, to guess how it grew.” Person-B: “But how do we core a tree that many times without killing it?”
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November 12, 2011 ??? Skilled role-playing of a person whose views you disagree with: Person-A: “How could we improve healthcare?” Person-B: “I like the idea of better healthcare for myself, but… I’ll flip myself around… If I were a conniving-bastard then my response to your question would be: Maybe we don’t want better healthcare for everyone? We could reduce the surplus population that way.” Person-A: “That doesn’t sound conniving to me.” Person-B: “Yeah, you’re right. How about: What if everyone had a healthcare bank-account. But if they wanted to buy a house, they could withdraw their healthcare dollars at a 50% loss, and spend the money on real-estate?” ??? (I haven’t ever heard these conversations)
Relationship coordination-session: Person-A: “Where should we take our relationship in the future, and how should we get there?” Person-B: “I think that in the future, I will want to spend time with someone who is more-spontaneous than you.” Person-A: “Why do you want a more-spontaneous friend?” Person-B: “I feel that my own personality is stagnating, and that a different “flavor” of friend-personality would help my own personality to change.” Person-A: “I don’t know if I want to become more spontaneous, but I might. I’ll have to think about it. … Hey, I have a friend-of-a-friend who is very spontaneous.”
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November 12, 2011 ??? Conversation aimed at improving the other person’s skills, especially if the other person doesn’t realize they’re being educated: Person-A: “So have you thought-about what classes Timmy will take?” Person-B: “Yeah. I think he should take algebra.” Person-A: “Did you like algebra?” Person-B: “No. I barely remember it. I haven’t ever used it.” Person-A: “Will Timmy make the same comment, twenty years from now?” Person-B: “Hmm. I didn’t think about that.” ???
Staged conversation in front of another person: Person-A: “Have you ever thought about taking night-classes?” Person-B: “Why yes, dear, I have.” Timmy: Listens. Person-A: “Let me pull out the class-list, so we can figure-out what you’re interested in.” Person-B: Looking at the night-classes pamphlet. “Cool! I could take woodworking, Asian cooking, or welding.” Person-A: “I think you should take welding.” Person-B: “Why? What if I don’t want to take welding? What can I do once I learn how to weld steel together?” Timmy: Listens.
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November 12, 2011 ??? Conversation aimed at improving skills, where both parties helpone another with different skills. ??? (Beyond my knowledge)
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I don’t know what conversation-schemas lie here.
November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought In J. R. R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” series... (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/JRR_Tolkien, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_of_the_Rings) The Elves did ABSOLUTELY nothing:
Their advice was always cryptic and/or incomplete.
They made a scrawny Hobbit carry the ultimate mind-control weapon all of the way to a volcano, without shoes. They didn’t even tell the Hobbit how to turn-off the extradimensional-invisibility feature.
They didn’t show-up to the battle for Minas Tirith until the battle was nearly over. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minas_tirith)
They then all emigrated away-from Middle-Earth in their flying boats, leaving from the Grey Havens. They left the mess of Middle-Earth to be dealt with by the Hominids and Orcs.
And they could only manage to stow-away two-out-of-five downtrodden Hobbits, and fly them out of Middle-Earth.
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (31/8/2011) REGIONS OF SIGNIFICA NT CONFLICT REGIONS OF SIGNIFICA NT CONFLICT – OUR TAUROSPHERE, FROM ABOVE
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Abloom (“Our Pad”) is a small, nearby, multiracial Mammaloid-zone. It is inhabited by goat-evolved people, two-legged horses, and two-legged “Unicorns”. Two-legged “Unicorns” are evolved from goats without horns, whose four-legged ancestors we do not have on Earth-Sol. Angba, from my February-2010 Abduction narration, is a Unicorn. Faerie, located above Abloom, is a low-tech multiracial Mammaloid-zone. “Faerie” is NOT the zone’s proper name.
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November 12, 2011
REGIONS OF SIGNIFICA NT CONFLICT – ZOOMED-OUT
AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH II 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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JJ KK LL MM NN OO PP QQ RR
November 12, 2011
Looking front-on
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November 12, 2011
REGIONS OF SIGNIFICA NT CONFLICT – ZOOMED FURTHER-OUT
a
B
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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C
D
e
f
g
h
I
J
k
L
m
n
o
p
q
r
November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Depending-upon the composition of a core-ship’s (Death-Star’s) 100-to-400 kilometre diameter fissile-material core, and depending-upon the planet’s fields, some core-ships go thermonuclear when they are flung into planets. This often creates an ENORMOUS crater. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Star)
YOU ARE IN A ERA OF DATA-LOSS
Data storage Your magnetic-media and memory-sticks do not store information long.
Your DVDs are only marginally more long-lasting.
Information encoding Your data-encoding and data-compression algorithms will result in undecipherable data-bits in a hundred years.
Your music is acoustically encoded in a VERY-lossy format. Your videoencoding less-lossy.
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November 12, 2011 Playback devices Your data-playback equipment (computers, e-book readers, and DVDs) have a lifetime of only a decade.
Many of your buggy computer-software applications don’t crash because of error-detection flaws in the current version of the operating-system, and/or the computer processor, and/or the current memory configuration. Computer-software applications will crash severely on future computeremulators.
Many of your computer games are designed to only be played online. They will be unplayable on future computer-emulators because the servercomponent will have been lost. Many internet-applications will similarly be unusable in the future.
Copy protection Your E-books and music-recordings are encrypted to prevent piracy, and their data is NEVER transferrable to permanent storage, like DVDs. E-books and music-recordings will all be lost. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digital_rights_management)
Many of your computer-software applications will intentionally stop working if they cannot reach valid computer-codes via the internet. They will not work in the future, without a lot of copy-protection hacking.
Public libraries Your public libraries only archive books. They do not try to archive music, videos, computer-games, computer-software source-code, internet pages, and databases.
Your libraries don’t archive enough information.
Your large public-libraries are located in large cities, where they will be looted/destroyed in times of war.
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought Elapidae (Sssk) personalities are nearly as un-describable and uncharacterizable and un-labelable as Grey personalities, but in a different direction.
HOW MANY OFF-PLANET HOMINIDS LIVE ON EARTH-SOL?
3-to-7 million first-generation, arriving as adults.
3-to-7 million first-generation, arriving as children.
7-to-14 million second-generation, born here.
Up to 1-million first-generation, living 400-meters away, on a parallel extradimensional-layer.
Nearly half of the off-planet Hominids live in China. The next-largest population lives in Russia, followed by the United States, and then Europe. Relatively few offplanet Hominids live in the southern hemisphere. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_of_America, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Europe).
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought Music-appreciation implants help you understand and enjoy music better.
HOW MIND-READING IMPLANTS WORK Mind-reading (and thought-modifying) implants are almost always placed in someone’s soul. The thinking-part of a person’s soul is called their mind. A person’s soul can (very-simplistically) be envisioned as a soul-stem with attached soul-“leaves”. Unlike tree-leaves, soul-leaves are thick, like floppy water-filled balloons. A person’s soul-leaf is monitored by a collection of embedded implants. The implants construct an MRI-like image of the soul-leaf. Using the MRI-like image, pattern-recognizers can guess what the person’s soul-leaf is doing/thinking. Earth-Sol physicians similarly-monitor a subject’s brain to determine which regions of their brain are most-active while the subject thinks about strawberry ice-cream, versus driving a car. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electromagnetic_field, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnetic_resonance_imaging) The MRI-like images of the person’s soul-leaves, along with a transcription of their activities and spoken words, are fed into pattern-recognition software. The patternrecognition software identifies links between soul-leaf MRI-like images, and specific stimuli, actions, and ultimately, specific thoughts. Our primitive “mind reading” 3019 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 computer input-devices do something similar, although much-much moresimplistically. Other implant sensors watch “nerve impulses” as they travel from soul-leaves into the person’s soul-stem. The pattern-recognition software runs on a powerful computer, the size of a pea. The computer is often located and/or scattered throughout the person’s soul. Lowerquality telepathy requires a less-accurate soul-MRI, and a less-powerful computer. Very-few people on Earth-Sol have medium-quality telepathy implants. No-one on Earth-Sol has high-quality telepathy implants because they are stolen by implantbots. A person’s raw “MRI” telemetry is sometimes transmitted to a distant computer, where processing takes place. The person’s soul-computer wirelessly-transmits the pattern-recognized thoughts to nearby implants, as well as the planet’s telepathy-grid. The thoughts are always encrypted with varying levels of encryption. If encryption is too-good, people wishing to spy on someone’s thoughts merely implant their own mind-reading implants throughout the person’s soul. In the extreme, some people’s soul-leaves look like podiums full of microphones, one from every news-agency.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Has anyone on Earth-Sol ever tried creating a very-narrow (40-centimeter) hallway between two very-thick lead (or better) walls? You might find it uncomfortable to walk between the walls, as your extradimensional-soul is squeezed.
MORALITY (PART 1) Morality is a complicated subject. I am about to describe to you what-little I understand about “Morality – The university degree”, based-upon recent telepathic conversations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morality, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethics, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meta-ethics) I am undoubtedly mis-describing important aspects about morality.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought
Is it moral for me to accidentally/unintentionally mis-describe to you “Morality theory”?
Is it moral for “aliens” to tell me about morality-theory, so that I can accidentally/unintentionally mis-describe it to you?
Am I being immoral by describing to you how impoverished Earth-Sol’s morality-systems are?
MORALITY-SYSTEM SCAFFOLDING Morality-system “scaffoldings” are like political-constitutions for morality-systems. They are the simple-and-fundamental precepts that the morality-systems are based on. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constitution_(political) ) Listed are some morality-system scaffoldings, not-exactly “in order” of sophistication: a)
“I am the only person in the universe” – Morality only exists for my own convenience. I can do anything to anyone. (This is the morality-scaffolding of a 3-year-old child.)
b) Anarchy – Morality does not exist. I can do anything to anyone, as per above. AND, they can likewise do anything to me. (This is the moralityscaffolding of a 4-year-old child.) c)
“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” – This very-primitive moralityscaffolding is based on the expectation that one negative action deserves an
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November 12, 2011 equal and identical negative counter-action. It is Newton’s third-law of motion applied to morality. (6-year-old child.) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newton%27s_Third_Law#Newton.27s_third_l aw, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_for_an_eye) d) Role reversal – Some moral-systems ask the fundamental-question, “If the roles were reversed, and I were in that situation, what would I think?” EarthSol’s morality-systems are roughly/simplistically based on role-reversal. (16years-old?) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Golden_Rule) e) Utilitarianism – A utilitarian morality-system is fundamentally-designed to maximize “the greater good”. The Hominoid-Empire’s morality-system is roughly/approximately based on “the greater [Hominid] good”, role-reversal being omitted. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utilitarianism) f)
Utilitarianism with individual-safeguards – When utilitarianism maximizes for the greater-good, some individuals will always-and-repeatedly have netnegative life-experiences as a result of the greater-good maximization. Slaves, for example. “Utilitarianism with individual-safeguards” eliminates the possibility of individuals being continually downtrodden-upon, for the benefit of the group.
g)
Vector utilitarianism (with individual-safeguards) – “The greater good” cannot be described by a scalar number. It can be described by a multidimensional number, a vector. The direction to be maximized is rotated over all reasonable-directions, over the course of time, and in different locales. For example: For a period of time, “The greater good” is defined by how happy everyone is. A few decades later, “The greater good” morphs to how wealthy everyone is. A few decades after that, “The greater good” is basedupon how much spare-time people have. Etcetera.
h) Some scaffolding-systems are missing here. 3023 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 i)
“I am everyone” – This morality-system’s core-philosophy is that moralitylaws must take the life-experience of everyone into account, even the tinylittle insects that populate your kitchen-cupboard. This morality-scaffolding is a step beyond “Vector utilitarianism with individual-safeguards”.
j)
“What kind of world do you want to live in?” – Do you want to live in a world with slavery? If you were enslaved, would you want to be a slave? Some people actually want to be slaves.
k)
Some scaffolding-systems are missing here.
Scaffolding-systems cannot trivially be ordered from simple (and less-intelligent) to complex (and most-intelligent), as I have listed them. If the scaffolding-systems were ordered properly, they would form a shape that was more tree-like. Within a society, some people may be expected to adhere to different moralityscaffolding. Obviously, tiny-little insects adhere to scaffolding (a). Small-children have a morality-system built on scaffolding (b).
MORAL-RESPONSIBILITY FRAMEWORKS Who is morally responsible if something bad happens? a)
No moral responsibility – No-one is morally responsible for their actions.
b) Direct moral-responsibility – The person that directly caused the mishap/event is morally responsible. If a person shoots another person with a gun, they are morally responsible for the shooting.
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November 12, 2011 c) Command hierarchy – A manager is responsible for the actions of their “direct reports” when the manager orders/commands their direct-reports to do something. If a child is given a gun and ordered to shoot someone, the parent is morally-responsible. d) Education-and-control of direct-reports – A manager is morally-responsible for educating their “direct reports” about what actions are immoral. They are also morally-responsible for preventing their “direct reports” from committing immoral acts. If a teenager takes their parent’s unlocked-gun from their parent’s dresser-top, and then shoots someone without knowing that they were committing a moral act, then the parent is held responsible. e)
“You knew it was likely to happen” – A person is held responsible if they are knowingly negligent. If an adult gives their friend’s child a gun to shoot chipmunks, and their friend’s child ends-up shooting another person despite knowing that it is immoral, the adult is responsible.
f)
The moral-responsibility to educate – If you know that parents give guns to children, and you know the children might shoot someone with the guns, are you morally-responsible for educating ALL parents not to give their guns to children? Are you held morally-responsible if some child in another city shoots someone, simply because you didn’t spend four-years of your life convincing your nation’s politicians to make gun-owning illegal?
g)
The moral-responsibility to produce educateable-people – If you know that stupid parents give their children guns, then is it your responsibility to ensure that only intelligent parents exist?
h) There are other moral-responsibility frameworks. They are not-necessarily a sequence from low-intelligence (simplest) to high-intelligence (complex).
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November 12, 2011 In more-advanced societies than ours, moral-responsibility is NOT just about negative-responsibility. Is the child that pushed a four-year-old Albert Einstein into a rain-puddle, which caused young-Albert to run home and do his homework, morallyresponsible for general-relativity? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Einstein, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_relativity) Morality systems are often based on several moral-responsibility frameworks. Ignorant people are typically held to be less morally-responsible. Contentions always arise: If a very-ignorant parent does-not know that guns kill, and they give a gun to a child, are they morally responsible?
MORALITY CODES A morality-code is a set of rules, laws, guidelines, heuristics, and algorithms, based on a morality-scaffolding, and a moral-responsibility framework: a)
None – The simplest morality-code is that there are no morality rules/laws.
b) Power/money – People with power/money impose a morality-code on people without power/money. People with power/money are subject to a less-restrictive morality-code than those without power/money. This could take the form of “wergild”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wergild) c)
Morality-rules – One of the simplest forms of morality-code is a smallcollection of rules that are never to be disobeyed, such as “The Ten Commandments”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ten_Commandments)
d) Earth-Sol morality-law collections – Morality-laws are more-sophisticated than morality-rules. There are many-more laws than rules, thousands versus a dozen. Unlike rules, laws can be broken, but with possible penalties, often arbitrated by a judiciary. 3026 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 e) Morality-laws with penalty-points – Morality-laws are different than legallaws, but since we have no codified morality-laws with penalty-points, I cannot do anymore than say, “They’re something like our legal-laws with penalty points, but not quite the same.” Earth-Sol societies have legal-laws with penalty-points, although crudely implemented. If someone is caught speeding in an automobile, their first speeding-offence is forgiven. Their second-offence is mildly punished. Subsequent offences receive more-severe penalties. f)
Morality-laws with REWARD-and-penalty points – Morality-laws are different than legal-laws, but since we have no codified morality-laws with reward-and-penalty points, I cannot do anymore than say, “They’re something like our legal-laws with reward-and-penalty points, but not quite the same.” We have VERY-FEW legal-laws that penalize illegal behavior, but which also maintain a tally of reward-points for consistent legal behavior. Speeding-infractions almost have a “reward-points” system. If someone hasnot been caught speeding for the last five years, their speeding-infraction “record” is forgotten. A more complicated reward-points system would be to give a person 1.0 good-driver points for every kilometer they drive, and penalize them 10,000 good-driver points every-time they are caught speeding. Even with the good-driver point-system, if someone is a legally-impeccable everywhere but in their automobile, they are NOT given leeway for additional speeding-tickets… except at the discretion of a judge and jury. Perhaps they should be.
g)
Programmed morality-algorithms – I will use legal-laws as an example. Our legal laws are 1,000,000-pages of vernacular-text, mostly “bullet-items”. All 1,000,000 pages of vernacular-text can be programmed into a computer-
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November 12, 2011 application. (Tax-form software like TurboTax, is a simple example.) The computer-software advises people if they have broken the law, or are if they about to break the law, and what the penalty might/should be. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TurboTax) h) Computer-learned morality-heuristics – Again, I will use legal-laws as an example, instead of moral-laws, because it is easier to imagine implementing legal-laws as heuristics. From the citizen’s point-of-view, computer-learned morality-heuristics behave like “Programmed morality-algorithms”. A computer-application advises people if they have broken the law, or if they are about to break the law, and what the penalty might/should be. The laws, particularly the penalties, are NOT fine-tuned by politicians and civil-servants, however. An artificial-intelligence monitors the society, and its laws. The artificial-intelligence uses crime-metrics, economic-metrics, and opinion-polls to fine-tune laws, constrained by a morality-scaffolding. How many people think they are excessively-fined when they receive a $250 fine for driving 20-kmph over the speed limit? How much societydirected angst is created by the excessive fines? Encouraging people to drive more-slowly saves lives. How many lives are saved because people drive more-slowly thanks to the $250 fine? Conversely, how much is “the greater good” hampered by people wasting their time driving too-slowly to work? What are the tradeoffs? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pattern_recognition)
Within a society, some people may be expected to adhere to different sets of morality-laws. Obviously, tiny-little insects adhere to morality-laws (a). Morality-laws are different than legal-laws. It is illegal to drive on the wrong-side of the road, even if no-one is around. It is NOT immoral, though.
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MORALITY EXCUSES In any morality-system, people have excuses for not acting morally: (This list isn’t easily sorted from low-intelligence morality-excuses to high-intelligence moralityexcuses. It is more of a tree.) a)
Ignorance – People who are ignorant are held to lower moral-standards.
b) Orders – People who receive legitimate war-time orders to commit immoral acts, are not-typically labeled immoral. c)
Strict morals – People that follow morals to the letter-of-the-law are held to lower moral-standards. Someone who believes that it is immoral to do work on the Sabbath, is not morally-guilty if their cow dies after falling in a pit on the Sabbath. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gospel_of_Luke 14:5)
d) Well-intentioned – Unintentionally breaking a moral-law, while being wellintentioned about one’s actions, is a moral-excuse. e) “Have you thought-through the possible consequences of your actions?” – Have you produced a list of possible consequences of your actions? Have you determined if the aggregate net-positives of the consequences outweigh the aggregate net-negatives of the consequences? Are the consequences most-likely to be “beneficial” to “most people”, with as-fewas-possible individuals being overly-harmed or repeatedly-harmed? It gets much-more intricate than this. f)
“Have your produced a consequence tree?” – Consequences are tree-like, because other people will make decisions based-upon your decisions. Their
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November 12, 2011 decisions might be immoral, and intentionally designed to thwart your decisions’ morality. During World War II, the United-States military sped-up its invasion of parts of Germany to save Jews in concentration-camps from starving-to-death. However, the Nazis took the American soldiers’ good-intentions, and turned them immoral. When the Nazis heard about the advancing troops, they hurriedly shot and/or gassed many Jews so that the Jews couldn’t be rescued. Should the American soldiers have taken into account the possible immoral-actions of the Nazis, when deciding if they should speed-up their invasion to rescue imprisoned Jews? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_Germany, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_concentration_camps) g)
Lack of predictive tools/knowledge – If the likelihoods and outcomes of a “consequence tree” cannot be accurately predicted, is it immoral to not spend time-and-resources to produce a more-accurate prediction of the outcomes?
MORALITY-SYSTEMS A “morality sub-system” is (very-very simplistically) a collection of moralitylaws/algorithms, based on a morality-scaffolding. The morality-laws/algorithms take moral-responsibility into account.
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November 12, 2011 A “morality system” is a functional collection of coexisting morality sub-systems. Different demographics of society have different morality sub-systems applied to them.
Do wealthy people have a different morality sub-system than middle-class people? I will use Earth-Sol’s legal-system as an example: On Earth-Sol, wealthy people exist under a slightly-different legal-system, because can they hire better lawyers to defend themselves in court. They are less-likely to be convicted of a crime, and they spend less time in prison.
Do government-officials have a different morality sub-system? On EarthSol, public-scrutiny holds government-officials to a higher morality than average people.
Is law-enforcement held to a different morality sub-system? I will use Earth-Sol’s legal system as an example: Police-officers cannot walkpast a criminal-action without having-to legally do something to help. Average citizens often can.
Do military personnel comply with a different morality sub-system? If someone shoots at you in your home town, morality-guidelines indicate that you should run. If someone shoots at you during a war, you are more-moral if you shoot back.
Do children have a different morality sub-system? Obviously, yes.
Do stupid animals have a different morality sub-system? Obviously, yes.
Do more-intelligent people have a different morality sub-system? Not really. Should they?
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MORALITY PRIVILEGES Does someone’s compliance to a specialized (more-rigid) morality sub-system provide them benefits?
Employment, public transportation – Are convicted-felons allowed to drive automobiles? Are they allowed to fly personal aircraft? Are they allowed to fly passenger-jets with passengers?
Employment, teaching – Are teachers required to be more-moral because they influence the minds-and-futures of children?
Political office – Are politicians required to be more-moral than ordinary citizens? Media-attention is supposed to ensure the morality of political candidates.
Telepathy – Telepathy is a “power” that can be abused, particularly mindreading and thought-control. Should mind-reading and thought-control be limited to moral people?
Voting – Are less-moral people excluded from voting in political elections? In some places, convicted-felons are not allowed to vote.
Wealth – Are the wealthy required to be more-moral than ordinary citizens since they wield more eco-political power? They also spend LOTS of money on luxury items, which forces less-wealthy people to work more.
Weapons – Should the right to own weapons be limited to moral people? Convicted-felons are not-allowed to own weapons.
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INTERACTIONS OF MORALITY-SYSTEMS According to space-faring-Hominoid society-morals, I am acting immorally (and illegally) by warning you about the existence of aliens. According to moralitysystems ABOVE the Hominoid-Empire, I am acting both morally and legally by warning you about the existence of aliens. Most people on Earth-Sol would conclude that the moral and legal systems of space-faring Hominoid-society are morally-and-legally corrupt. The same opinions are held by non-Hominoids in the region, including those whose morality-systems and legal-systems supersede the Hominoid moral-and-legal systems. By whose moral (and legal) system am I to be judged? By whose moral (and legal) system are you to be judged? How does a higher moral-court (and/or a higher legal-court) decide which moralitysystem (and which legal-system) you and I fall under?
MORALITY-DISCUSSION CONSEQUEN CES Here’s a brain-twist: Is it morally responsible for me to discuss how complex morality actually is? Having read-through this section, you now are less-ignorant about moral responsibility. Therefore, you are now more morally-culpable. As the person that informed you about moral responsibility, am I now morally-responsible for your actions? Are the “aliens” that informed-me 3033 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 about moral responsibility, morally-responsible for your actions, through me?
And another brain-twist: Now that YOU know that Earth-Sol’s moral (and religious, and legal) systems are woefully inadequate, YOU are now morally responsible to (at least attempt to) improve the systems. However, you most-likely cannot realistically improve the systems.
Earth-Sol’s general-population isn’t intelligent-enough to accept the improved systems.
Educating Earth-Sol’s population will take more than decades.
The Hominoid-Empire that governs/hinders Earth-Sol, makes such improvements impossible.
Morality is one of the reasons why some “aliens” don’t mind that people on EarthSol no-longer believe that “aliens” exist: Metaphorically, you are now in the position where you know that stupid parents give guns to their children, and that children kill other children with said guns. You can do nothing about guns-and-children, because every adult has guns, and half the adults are stupid. Would it be morally-and-emotionally healthier if you remained ignorant, and believed that no-one had guns? Likewise, perhaps it is best for indigenous-Hominids on Earth-Sol to believe that “aliens” do NOT exist. Indigenous-Hominids can do nothing that will practically-and-reliably-and-safely enable the “aliens” to land, and 3034 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 ultimately help the indigenous-Hominids. Only the “aliens” can decide to land. But, if some indigenous Hominids do not believe that “aliens” exist, then said “aliens” are less-likely to try and solve the problems that prevent them from landing on Earth-Sol.
A deeply random thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Meteorites fall-apart as they speed through the atmosphere because they ultimately spin at incredibly-high speeds. Centrifugal forces pull them apart, especially since meteorites almost-always contain a marbling material that weakens when heated. The weaker marbling-material is interspersed between the harder materials in the meteorite, like iron. Hard materials in meteorites do NOT sublimate into the atmosphere. A pure iron-meteorite will spin, go mushy, but still impact the ground intact.
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MORE ALIEN-RACE SKETCHES (PART 4) CROCODILE-EVOLVED
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GOANNA-EVOLVED (THE ORIGINAL MODEL )
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N-DIM (HOLDING HOMINID-SHAPED “ATTACHMENT”)
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RABBIT-EVOLVED
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WAR UPDATE (5/9/2011) CORE-SHIPS LEAVING FROM A LOTIAN-SPACE Previously parked-and-recharging in Alotian space, Hominid core-ships (formerly known as “Death Stars”) are being deployed into war. They have transited through a nearby Hominid zone, (HH, 8) as well as “Our Pasture,” a Hominid-occupied Mammaloid zone. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Star) Core-ships take approximately two-weeks to travel from (HH, 8) to our taurosphere (HH, 9). Some are towing “Star destructors”, ENORMOUS bombs designed to blow-up stars. Towed star-destructors are often hidden in custom-spaces located behind the coreships. Core-ships and their star-destructors often park above Hominid planets. As a general policy, star destructors are considered so dangerous, that they are attack-detonated by non-Hominoids when they are discovered. In battle, core-ships could be flung into any Hominoid planet they orbit.
CORE-SHIPS IN FAERIE “Faerie” (not its real name) is a nearby low-tech multiracial Mammaloid zone. One of the Faerie solar-systems contains a large 18,000-kilometer-plus diameter planet, with continents and oceans. The planet is largely populated by Raccoonevolved people. Nearly a billion Mammaloid war-refugees recently migrated to the planet. The planet’s population stands at nine-billion. 3040 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Also in the solar-system is Hulu “planet”. Hulu are furred dinosaur-evolved people, perhaps Dryosaurus-evolved. (See their image in the “More alien sketches (Part 5)” section, below.) Hulu are an elder-race that has shared-responsibility for the management of Faerie. Part of their mission is to reinvigorate the genetics of Mammaloids, as well as the people on Earth-Sol. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dryosaurus) Their “planet” is protected by a blue energy-sphere. There may not actually be a planet inside the blue energy-sphere. It might be a gateway to a custom space. Noone of any low-tech nature actually knows. Nearly one-hundred 100-kilometer core-ships began surrounding the Raccoonpopulated planet a few months ago. Some of the crew and pilots of the core-ships are from space-faring Hominoid-planets in the Milky-Way Galaxy, AndromedaGalaxy, Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuck), the Hominid-zone at (HH, 8), and The Six Kingdoms. The core-ships soon blockaded food shipments, as well as spaceplane entry-andexit. Last week, core-ships began pulling the Raccoon-populated planet towards, and then hypothetically into, the Hulu “planet”. The Hominoids intended to use one planet, and nine-billion people, as a giant bullet to kill billions more. There was a massive battle. Six core-ships had-to be flung into planet, killing at least 100-million people, instantly. The cores are in meltdown, and will take one-thousand years to burn through the planet’s upper-crust. During this time, they will produce large-amounts of hydrogen and helium. The hydrogen will combine with the planet’s oxygen to produce water. The low-oxygen levels might kill-off oxygen-breathing life. Plutonium/uranium-salts might toxify the planet’s surface for ten-thousand-plus years. Yellowstone-National-Park-like magma-craters will form where the cores have melted through the planet’s upper-crust. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellowstone_National_Park) 3041 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 The remaining core-ships, and core-ship evacuees, are being hunted down. Counter-attacks will be undertaken.
CORE-SHIPS ELSEWHERE IN T HE TAUROSPHERE Hominoid core-ships are expected to be everywhere soon.
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REVISED HOMINOID-EMPIRE #8 MAP
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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WAR HISTORY (PART 3)
700 (900 galactic-years ago) – Hominids in this taurosphere invade and enslave “Abloom” (Our pad), which is populated by both Goat-evolved and Two-legged Horse-evolved people. (See “Regions of significant conflict – Our taurosphere, from above”, in a previous “War Update (31/8/2011)”). The Goat-evolved people develop and release “The Black Death” to kill Hominoid slave-owners. The Black Death of 1347-to-1351 is a malaria that is harmless to most Mammaloids, but lethal to Caucasian Hominoids. New strains are refreshed bi-annually. Probes infect fleas living on/near poorly-housed and ill-fed enslaved-Mammaloids. The fleas bite the enslaved Mammaloids, and infect the Mammaloids with the malaria. The malaria does nothing to the Mammaloids except create a reservoir for the disease. The fleas also bite the Mammaloid’s slave-owners. 10% of the Hominoid population on slaveowning planets dies. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Death) The “Dark Ages” continues on Earth-Sol’s Europe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Ages_(historiography), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Europe)
1340 (460-ish galactic-years ago) – A war breaks-out in our taurosphere between the Hominoids and an anonymous local Mammaloid meta-race. The “Black death” is “unfrozen”, updated, and re-released to infect the slaving local Hominoids. Wealthy space-faring Hominids might-have fled to the neutral Earth-Sol, and caused epidemics of the “Black death”. 30% - 60% of low-tech Europeans died between 1347 and 1351. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Death)
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November 12, 2011 1350 to 1390 – After the end of hostilities with the Hominoids in the taurosphere, a new consortium may have purchased Earth-Sol’s “Societyupgrade contract” from a previous consortium. (See the “Society-upgrade contracts” section, earlier.)
1382 (438-ish galactic-years ago) – The Renaissance begins in Florence, Italy, with the Albizzi family. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florence, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albizzi)
1400 (430-ish galactic-years ago) – The Hominoids in our taurosphere enter into a war against the Cat-evolved people, Chimpanzee-evolved people, and some Simians. Other races are also involved in the war.
1450 to 1480 – After the wars with Hominoids in our taurosphere end, a new consortium may have purchased Earth-Sol’s “Society-upgrade contract”, from the previous consortium.
1492 – “The Age of Exploration Colonization” begins on Earth-Sol. It leads to the conquest of North America and South America by the Europeans. Eastern Russia, Africa, India, and China also are colonized/subjugated by the Europeans. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_Exploration, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_america, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_america, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Europe, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China)
1710 (210-ish galactic-years ago) – In 1726, Gulliver’s Travels is published by Jonathan Swift, potentially from an abductee’s experience 15-years earlier. In the book, the Houyhnhnms, a militant-faction of four-legged Horseevolved people, discuss-with-Gulliver the sterilization of the Yahoos (Hominids, and perhaps some Simians). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulliver%27s_Travels, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Swift)
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November 12, 2011 1850 to the present-day – Non-Hominoids begin an invasion of the Hominoid-Empire’s “Rome”. The war is still being battled. ( - , 2 - 5)
1890 to 1994, still “simmering” – A second invasion of the Hominoid-Empire occurs. ( - , 7 - 8)
1947 – With the independence of India from the United Kingdom, “The Age of Colonization” ends on Earth-Sol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_kingdom)
1955 to 1975 – “The time of peace” occurs in this region. (See the “War History (Part 2)” section, above.) During this period, a consortium may have purchased Earth-Sol’s “Society-upgrade contract” from the previous consortium.
STORYTELLING TOOLS Storytellers on Earth-Sol write their stories with a word-processor. And perhaps a specialized script-writing tool, that isn’t much-more than a word-processor. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Word_processor) Storytellers on other planets have specialized story-telling computer-tools, whose feature-set is optimized to produce enjoyable stories, not just correctly-spelled stories. The functionality includes:
Word-processor functionality – You already know what word processors do: Text-entry, text-display, spell-checking, grammar-checking, a dictionary, and a thesaurus.
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November 12, 2011 Automatic sentence-and-paragraph rewording – With the click of a button, sentences and paragraphs can be randomly reworded to use different tenses, different subject-verb-object ordering, and different cadences.
Automatic language-translation – Sentences are automatically translated to other languages. The source-text from the original language is maintained to make review-and-modification easier-and-safer.
Back-story knowledge-base – A knowledge-base of the back-story is stored along-with the story-book file. Within the story, sentence-phrases that expose back-story information-points are tagged by the author.
Character-schedule/location monitoring – The schedules and locations of all characters are monitored throughout the story, as well as the in-between unwritten-story, the back-story, and the after-story. Since alternative versions of the story are maintained, alternative characterschedules/locations are also maintained.
Character-emotion/personality consistency – A database keeps track of the character’s personality and state-of-mind throughout the story. Consistency-checking “logic” detects if a character unrealistically switches their emotional state, or suddenly behaves differently.
Storyline monitoring – The storyline is documented and monitored. Plotpoints are addressed.
Theme monitoring – A story can competently support one-to-two themes. When writing a story, authors note which themes are reinforced, on a perparagraph basis. The story-tool detects a dominant theme, and encourages authors to minimize aspects of the story that emphasize tertiary (lessdominant) themes.
Information-points monitoring – Every story needs to relay certain information-points about the plot, scene, and characters. This sub-tool lets
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November 12, 2011 authors tag story-and-dialogue sentence-phrases that reveal informationpoints, and how-much emphasis is placed on the information-points. If an information-point isn’t emphasized strongly-enough or often-enough by the end of the story, then the author is warned. If precursor information-points aren’t revealed ahead-of information-points that rely on the precursors, then alerts go-off.
Mysteries – Mysteries (and other questions) that should arise in readers’ minds are tagged on a per-paragraph basis. As per “Information-points monitoring”, the story-tool ensures that the mysteries and questions are ultimately answered (or not).
Comedy – Auto-pun. Auto-humorous-words. Auto-scatological-humor. More advanced systems include comedy-pacing based on computerlearning.
Customizing the story for specific target audiences – A single story can have several variations that are custom-targeted towards different demographics. A child’s version of the story would reduce the words, remove complex plot elements, and eliminate romance.
Cultural-references and cultural-mores monitoring – Cultural-references and culturally-sensitive topics, such as nudity, are tagged. Authors are warned-about what percentage of their readers won’t understand the cultural references, and/or who will be offended. Different non-offending versions of the story can be produced.
Essays about what hypothetical-readers are thinking at any point in the story – Hypothetical readers are presented to authors, such as “an educated adult with two young-children, who votes for the Green-party”. Authors write a per-paragraph “essay” about what the reader’s emotional-state is, what the reader expects from the story at that point, how they perceive the paragraph, and the experience so far.
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November 12, 2011 Psychological modeling – Readers’ (and/or movie-viewers’) reactions to the story are simulated using psychological modeling. Tools recommend sentence/dialogue rewording, as well as sub-chapter reordering. This only works so well.
Multiple story-versions – Completely-different versions of the story are maintained. This lets authors experiment with different versions of the story when beta-testing the story.
Story sub-versions – Several sub-versions of the story are stored as “treed” delta-variations off-of the main story.
Beta-testing people’s reactions to the stories – Different sub-versions of the story can be distributed to beta-testers’ E-book readers, which are augmented with telepathic monitoring, logging, and reporting. The story can be fine-tuned based-upon the readers’ recorded reactions-and-behaviors.
Shipped-product feedback, and version 1.1 modifications – Different versions of the story can be shipped to different cities. Sales and recordedreactions can be used to select optimum versions for a 1.1 publication.
STARGATE UNIVERSE (PART 2) I have been watching more of Stargate Universe. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stargate_Universe) In a later episode, the “minds” of two dead crewmembers are uploaded into the computer of the Ancients’ spaceship.
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November 12, 2011 This is possible in reality… kind-of. People’s “consciousnesses” can be “uploaded” into some high-tech non-Hominoid battleships. A person’s soul can be detached from their body by invisible-and-ethereal medicalbots, and grafted onto a porous-and-lightweight “soul stone”. A soul-stone is a halfellipsoid, about ten-centimeters by thirty-centimeters. Soul-stones contain electronics to simulate vision, hearing, touch, taste, odor, and other senses. The soul-stone’s electronic-senses are synthesized by the ship’s computer. The person (whose soul is attached to the soul-stone) lives in a virtual-reality. Their soul is fed with a nutrient-bath that travels through the porous soul-stone. A nutrient-rich atmosphere is also provided. Many elder-race battleships are, in part, piloted by people who live in a virtualworld simulated by the battleship’s computer. The job is usually temporary, and considered part of someone’s piloting military-duty. As per the Stargate Universe episodes, romances get a bit-odd when one or both people are disconnected from their bodies, and connected to soul-stones. Soulstone people can actually appear as a hologram, or even a screensaver. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Dwarf, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnold_Rimmer) Soul-stone people “living in” battleship-computers are only one way that militaries augment their personnel: 10. Battleship bodies – As per above, using soul-stones. 9.
Robotic bodies – A technique similar to soul-stones can clothe people in robotic bodies, instead of their original biological bodies.
8.
Special-form bodies – Some body-shapes are better-able to accomplish some military duties. Two-legged Cat-evolved people sometimes assign four-legged Cat bodies to their mini-spaceplane pilots. See the Pantherized short-story that I wrote. (http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf)
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November 12, 2011 7. Specialized bodies, the same form – Combat-ready bodies are moreresistant to combat-stresses. Someone’s soul can be removed from their civilian body, and placed into a combat-ready body. 6.
Genetic augmentation – A person’s original body can be genetically augmented.
5.
Implants – Implants provide automatic combat experience and knowledge.
4.
Extradimensional weapons – Extradimensional weapons can be grafted onto people’s bones.
3.
Vaccinations – Military personnel are given vaccinations against infectious agents and gasses.
2.
Drugs – People can be administered drugs to enhance their combat performance.
1.
Training – People are trained with military skills.
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN SKETCHES (PART 5) ANKYLOSAUR-EVOLVED
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ankylosauridae)
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CHIMPANZEE-EVOLVED Many Chimpanzee-evolved people wear 1960’s-like denim-fashion. Some listen to reggae-like music. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reggae, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1960s_in_fashion)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimpanzee)
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HULU (DRYOSAURUS-EVOLVED?)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dryosaurus)
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WAR UPDATE (11/9/2011) TROOP MOVEMENTS
From the front
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A randomly deep thought The two-hours-per-day science-fiction soap-opera described in “War update (9/6/2011)” might be filmed on a core-ship heading this way, or perhaps a flotilla of core-ships.
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YET-ANOTHER HYPOTHETICAL WAR-SCENARIO The following maps illustrate yet-another hypothetical war-scenario, covering a decade or two of the war.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
eeoo territory – Not many Hominoids live in, or near, the center. (- , 3-5) The planets there have “thick” water, and are uninhabitable by Hominoids, Saurians, and Mammaloids. Consequently, in this hypothetical war-scenario, even though much of (-, 2-6) could be contested, the Hominoids mostlikely would only defend the periphery, ( -, 7), (, 2-5), and (-, 2-3).
Bridges – If eeoo territory is contested, then the periphery, ( -, 7), (, 2-5), and (-, 2-3), forms bridges between large-sections of the Hominoid Empire. The bridges would be VERY-strategic supply-lines for the Hominoid-
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November 12, 2011 Empire. Consequently, non-Hominoids warring against the Hominoid-Empire might very-much desire to control the bridges. We are in one of the bridges.
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Despite what Mel Brooks claims in the comedy-movie, “History of the World, Part I”, there were NOT in-fact fifteen commandments. Moses did NOT drop the third tablet. There were only two tablets. And they were made of wood. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mel_Brooks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_World,_Part_I)
GLUONS ARE NUTRITIOUS Gluons are elementary-particles that allow atoms to bind-together into molecules. Some chemical-reactions WILL NOT take-place unless enough gluons are present. Gluons are an important part of a healthy diet. “Easy to dislodge” gluons can be found in the following foods: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gluon)
The burnt-bits of toast.
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November 12, 2011 The seared portions of meat.
The crispy-bit of deep-fried foods.
This crispy-bit of crème brulee. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cr%C3%A8me_br%C3%BBl%C3%A9e)
Chocolate
Coffee
A deeply random thought Which race would you expect to be wiser, one that is two-million years old, or one that is eighty-two-million years old?
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN SKETCHES (PART 6) SQUIRREL-EVOLVED
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_squirrel)
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A randomly deep thought If your country needed peacekeeping troops... Peacekeeping troops from a super-power (the United States) would be desirable, because they would be well-organized and effective. However, they might decide to not-leave your country. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_of_America) Peacekeeping troops from a coalition (the United Nations) would be desirable, because they would most-likely eventually leave your country. They might not be as well-organized and effective, though. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Nations)
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 16/9/2011) Not this week.
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HOMINID TELEVISION Proletariat Hominid television is broadcasting the following news-shows:
Nightly news – If they are reported at all, nuclear-missile attacks on Hominid cities, by non-Hominoids, are blamed on Hominid terrorists. The news also covers veneer-politics, equivalent to “Flag burning”, but no substantial issues. Other regular news-segments include: Sports, a travel segment, and a real-estate segment. Weather is not covered. Local crime is not covered. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flag_Desecration_Amendment)
Core-ship science-fiction soap-opera – The plot of the core-ship sciencefiction soap-opera has advanced. In the story, it appears that the Saurians are now behind the Elapidae (S SSk). This may mean that the core-ships where the series is filmed, are now closer to the Saurian space at (LL, 2), in the map under “Regions of significant conflict – Zoomed-out”.
Science-fiction soap-opera “Moon-base” – A few months ago, the small team on the moon-base were fighting the Elapidae (SSSk). The Elapidae appear to no-longer be an important enemy. Their new enemies are Geckoevolved people. Some Gecko-evolved slaves (or prisoners of war) play the enemies.
Mini-Star-Trek – A small shuttle of Hominoids (three Hominids and two Aussies) travels around, from planet-to-planet, and gets into Star-Trek-like trouble. One of the crew-members is a Heloderma-evolved person, who is, in real life, a slave (or prisoner of war). Because the Heloderma-person might run-away during filming, their character is always left-behind on the shuttle, with the story-excuse that they are too physically-weak to walk anywhere due to an injury. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_The_Original_Series, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heloderma)
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November 12, 2011 Teenage-boy action-adventure cartoon with a Gecko-buddy – This cartoon features a teenage-boy, his little sister, and occasional parents. He has plenty of speedboats and quads, and explores an ancient wildernessplanet… Where he finds old pyramids, marooned Hominids that need helping, and evil Goanna-evolved people. He has a Gecko-evolved character as a follower-sidekick.
ENGINEERING (PART 7) ALOTIAN MEAT-PIE PLATE
1.
The top stainless-steel dish, with aeration holes, inserts snuggly into the bottom dish.
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November 12, 2011 2. Place a circular piece of uncooked pie-crust into the combined dish, and shape. Because the bottom dish is a shape-negative of the top dish, the combined-together dish is perfectly-smooth inside. 3.
Insert the filling, pre-cooked meats in gravy.
4.
Attach the top of the pie-crust.
5.
Remove the bottom dish from the aerated top-dish, exposing most of the sides of the pie-crust, and divot-holes on the bottom of the pie-crust.
6.
Cook. The pie-crust will be golden-brown on top. The sides will be goldenbrown, with a lovely crenellation-pattern. The bottom of the crust will also be browned by the exposed divots.
UPPER-CLASS “BODY-SWAPPING SAURIAN” CULTURE (PART 1) ABOUT THE INDIVIDUALS There is a “race” of Saurians that “body-swaps”. Each individual has severaldifferent bodies that they can choose to “wear” for the day, typically three bodies. Some of the body-races they can wear, are Tyrannosaur-evolved, Allosaurus-evolved, Velociraptor-evolved, and another body-race that looks like Velociraptors to us, but which has upper fore-teeth and is non-venomous. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor) Their bodies are outfitted with high-tech gear, including synthetic-eyes (see “Glass eyeballs”), and extradimensional strap-on defenses. So that their bodies can be body3065 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 swapped, they include soul-stem “sockets”. Using soul-stem sockets, a person’s soulstem can be mechanically detached from one body, and reattached to another body. Body-swapping Saurians can augment their souls with “knowledge” implants, letting them know just-about anything, without first having to learn the knowledge. “Intelligence” implants provide artificial-intelligence augmentations, such as a variety of pattern-recognizers, encryption/decryption modules, language understanding-and-speaking modules, and mathematical equation-solvers . While many races are avid-users of such implants, Body-swapping Saurians typically avoid knowledge-and-intelligence implants, using them only when absolutely-necessary, and/or as educational tutor-implants to help people learn. Body-swapping Saurian individuals are most-typically female. Female body-races are more-desirable because females are more-intelligent than males. Males exist, but they have very-specialized roles, as I describe below. Individuals can choose to NOT be male. Some individuals normally wear female bodies, but they occasionally swap into a male body for a change. The median IQ of Body-Swapping Saurians is 180, two-and-a-half full standard deviations more-intelligent than us. That intelligence is measured WITHOUT knowledge-and-intelligence implants, and without chemical augmentation.
TRAVEL Body-swapping Saurians travel quite-a-lot. Most of their travel is within a “territory” that they are familiar with. They occasionally travel further-away, but they do not enjoy roaming outside of their “territory”. Body-swapping Saurians do NOT like spending-time in spaceplanes. They do NOT like living on space-stations. The do NOT like living in hotel rooms, particularly hotelrooms on planets “owned” by nations… Nations like passing laws that result in the
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November 12, 2011 high-tech gear of Body-swapping Saurians being impounded, and reverseengineered. They will-not tell me what their spaceplanes look like, or how they function.
THE HOUSE A wealthy Body-swapping Saurian individual (or closely-related individuals) will own several houses located throughout their “territory”. When not travelling, they try to divide their time equally between their homes. If travelling Body-swapping Saurians are unable to stay at one of their homes, they “book a room” at friend’s house. The term “booking a room” makes the invitationrequest sound like a hotel reservation, which it is not. It’s more of an, “I am driving through your state next week. Can I sleep-over at your cottage/weekender for a few nights?” followed by, “Sure, the key is underneath the yellow pot-plant.” A wealthy-person’s house is ten-thousand square-meters. Facilities buildings, as well as recreation buildings, such as horse stables, would also be part of the estate. Their estates are built on relatively-small pieces of property, with neighbors within walking-distance. Of course, such a household would have a staff of servants, some of them live-in. A wealthy person might own five estates.
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SLEEP-OVER GUESTS A Body-swapping Saurian woman might-only spend one contiguous-month a year at any one of her houses. She will frequently-and-unexpectedly stop-by for the night, unannounced, while travelling. Friends (and friends of friends) very-regularly spend a night or two at their friend’s houses, when they are travelling through the area. Guests who sleep-over are exclusively from the owner’s friends, perhaps friends of friends. A house is NOT a hotel. The houses are occupied by the owner, friends, and friends of friends, at least half of the nights out of the year. Guests are encouraged to socialize with other guests, often in conversation. Children play virtual-reality games with one-another. Outdoor activities include games (like croquet), horseback riding, and walks. Food is not a social-activity. Food is available as stand-and-eat small-meals throughout the day. Meals are eaten in a hallway next to the kitchen. The kitchen is mostly a refrigerator, with a cutting-counter, and cutting-knives.
MALES Saurians rib me about this one, just in-case I decide to become a Saurian. Only one-in-twenty to one-in-fifty Saurian individuals is a male. Most people do not wish to be males, because males are less-intelligent, and because only one-in-twenty to one-in-fifty Saurian individuals is a male. In Body-swapping-Saurian society, most households will house one or two of the owner’s “boyfriends”… The males not-quite like Hominid husbands, because the 3068 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 male-female relationships are-not monogamous, and they are not “clingy” relationships. The male-relationship to the females is closer-to Hominid boyfriends, but more long-lasting. A woman’s boyfriends (sometimes shared between sisters) are chosen for personality compatibility and loyalty. Men who do NOT interfere with the businessdealings of their wife/girlfriend are also desirable. The “boyfriend” relationship provides the woman someone who is a safe-and-comfortable friend, available for casual discussion, and sometimes for confidential discussion. And of course, for sex. Thanks to birth-control, the boyfriend-males are unlikely to impregnate their female wife/girlfriend (and other people). To ensure genetic stability, Saurian procreation is by computer-managed artificial-insemination. However, due to accidental fertilization by males, as well as some laws, women are occasionally impregnated by their boyfriends. Women are NOT allowed to abort fetuses, or adopt-out their children… kind-of. Because of this, Saurian women select boyfriends whose children they wouldn’t mind having, just in case they are accidentally impregnated by their boyfriend(s). Going way-back to evolution, males were-and-are used as social-hierarchy tools by females. Females share their males out to friends, just like guests at someone’s lake-front cottage can borrow the owner’s boat. This comes across as very-rude to Hominid readers. It is NOT rude to Saurians. Males can refuse to be shared, in which case the female-guest they are shared-to is potentially considered to be less-trustworthy. “Why did my boyfriend refuse her?” Because they are “neutral” (see below), males sometimes know confidential information that they don’t divulge to their wife/girlfriend. In matters of business dealings, males are considered to be “neutral”. A womanrival might be invited to her rival’s house. She will not consider her rival’s boyfriend to be a rival. House-servants of rival-woman are seen as rivals, though.
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November 12, 2011 Women-guests can refuse the offer of the household-owner’s boyfriend… but at a social cost. Conversely, if the woman-guest accepts, they might be accidentally impregnated by their host’s boyfriend, rather than one of their own boyfriends. Consequently, a feudal-like system exists. Very-wealthy woman (or sisters) house several boyfriends, whom they have chosen. Wealthier women own larger houses, and provide accommodation for more guests. The more guests that visit a wealthywoman, the more less-wealthy women that the wealthy-woman’s boyfriends accidentally impregnate. In Body-swapping Saurian society, the genes of verywealthy women do-not propagate quickly. The genes of their boyfriends do propagate quickly. Consequently, if a wealthy woman (or sisters) has a good-eye for quality malegenes, the less-wealthy women in her territory will have genetically-better children, both male and female. The group will flourish over generations, even though individual women may-not dominate society for more than a few decades. When a wealthy woman visits a less-wealthy woman, their roles are reversed. The wealthy woman can be accidentally impregnated by the male of the less-wealthy woman. Not all impregnations are accidental. Many women want to be impregnated by their friend’s boyfriend.
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BEHAVIOR-AND-LEGAL CODES APPLIED TO GUESTS OF THE HOUSE A Body-swapping Saurian’s land-territory is about one-hundred hectares… kind of. The land is used by the Body-swapping Saurian for her household.
Body-swapping Saurians rarely build their households on planets owned by nations, because nations typically impound the high-technology of the Body-swapping Saurians… for the purposes of the national interest, and reverse-engineering.
Body-swapping Saurians build their households on planets owned by lessrestrictive and less-nosy nations. In which case, the nation’s laws apply to people visiting the house… limited by agreements and treaties.
Many households are built on wilderness planets, with no planetary law. Since the household population is so small, Body-swapping Saurians on wilderness-planets practice a common-law in their land-territory.
In addition to living under the laws of the planet’s nation, and/or common law, Bodyswapping Saurians have codes-of-behavior that they expect their household guests to comply with, just as Hominids on Earth-Sol have codes of behavior that they expect from their houseguests.
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THE LARGER “HOUSE” Wealthy Body-Swapping Saurians have a territory. Wealthier individuals have larger territories, which overlap and enclose the territories of less-wealthy individuals. The codes of behavior that a wealthy Body-swapping Saurian expects from her household guests, are extended to ALL Body-swapping Saurians living-in and visiting her territory… with scalar modifications. The codes-of-behavior also extend to non-Saurians entering a house’s territory. If non-Saurians comply with the rules-and-laws of someone’s territory, then the nonSaurians are treated with more-respect. If people do not comply, they are regarded as separate.
SHEPHERDING As a group, Body-Swapping Saurians have no “nation”… as per the Earth-Sol definition of “nation”. They do have a nation, but for now, pretend that there is no “Body-swapping-Saurian Nation”. A Body-Swapping Saurian’s territory overlays the territories of other nations and races. The laws of those nations apply to the Body-Swapping Saurians… assuming that the Body-swapping Saurians land on the nations’ planets, or are in the nations’ planetary-space. Body-swapping Saurians view the nations in their territory as part of their territory. They seek to help and influence the nations. The nations, and people in the nations, may not like, appreciate, or even notice the aid and influence. Conversely, when other nations, metaorganisms, and individuals harm the nations and people in the Body-Swapping Saurian territories, the Body-Swapping Saurians react.
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November 12, 2011 MANY races have socio-political systems similar to the Body-swapping Saurians. They have no nations of their own. They shepherd nations though, often without the nations realizing that there are shepherded.
ANCESTRAL-PREDATORS Many intelligent people analyze race-metaorganism behaviors based on the behaviors of their animal-ancestors:
When large-predator animal-saurians need food, they hunt individuals from the herds of caribou, deer, ceratopsia, and cattle in their territories. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceratopsia) Predator-saurians do NOT manage the herds, though. They let the herds roam in, out, and through their territory. Unlike lions, most predatorsaurians DO NOT follow the herds as they migrate through their territory.
The “animal” ancestors of space-faring Hominids are group-herders. Hominoid ancestors (excluding those on Earth-Sol) maintain a heard of grazing animals. They single-out members of the heard whose genetics they dislike, and eat that individual. Disliked genetics include stroppy individuals who will fight the Hominid herders, as well as independent-thinkers who will stray-away from the herd. Independent-thinkers who are potential-leaders are especially dangerous to herd-predators, because they might lead the entire herd away from the Hominids. The “animal” ancestors of Hominids are also predator-killers. Any predators in their territory are hunted-down to extinction by a hunting-pack of weapon-wielding Hominids. Of course, killing a lion’s cubs is easier than killing the lion.
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November 12, 2011 Four-legged horse “animals” are herd-watchers and predator-cullers. (Earth-Sol horses are not intelligent-enough to act this way.) Horses watch the other herd-animals in the region, to ensure that they’re healthy AND that predators prefer non-Horse predation to Horse predation. Predators are encouraged to hunt the other herd-animals in the horses’ territory. Those predators that persist in attacking the animal-horses, are culled by the horses.
RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHER RACES Body-swapping Saurians mainly-interact with other Saurians, Goanna-evolved people, Elapidae (SSSk), Agamidae, and Permian races. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goanna, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agamidae, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Permian) Body-swapping Saurians have both negative and positive relationships with Fourlegged-Horse people. They sometimes interact on friendly terms, and vehementlyargue other times. Interactions with Mammaloids are, at best, at arm’s length. This is partially-due to Mammaloids having strong-nations that impound the technology of visiting Bodyswapping Saurians. The Alotians, Nor, Chimpanzee-evolved people, and Simians are rarely interactedwith. Aussies have actively warred against the Saurians. And so do the Hominids.
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BUSINESSES I am not allowed to discuss the businesses that the Body-swapping Saurians are involved in.
RECENT HOMINOID TREATY-VIOLATIONS Due to recent Hominoid treaty-violations, Body-swapping Saurians are nowallowed to migrate to our local region.
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WAR-SCENE SKETCHES (PART 1) HOMINOID CORE-SHIPS CREATING AN ESCORT-WORMHOLE FOR PLANET-WRAPPER SHIP – NEBULA BEHIND
This image shows a wormhole being opened by a flotilla of core-ships, four-hundred to eight-hundred kilometers in diameter each. Emerging from the wormhole, is the nose of a “planet-wrapper” wipe-fleet ship, designed to cover a planet with a fabric that kills all life on the planet, without damaging any industries.
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November 12, 2011
HOMINOID CUBES HAULING STAR-DESTRUCTOR NEAR SAURIAN TAUROSPHERE
This is a scene is of a star-destructor hauled by hundreds of five-hundred meter warcubes. The star-destructor is activated, and flung into a star by the cubes. The stardestructor detonates, and damages the red-dwarf inside the star, extinguishing or greatly-weakening the star. The star-destructor and cubes are resting on a halocline layer. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halocline)
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November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (21/9/2011)
tch
hh U ng uh “Loved one”
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY (23/9/ 2011) I added another story, Pantherized, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. Follow a Golden Panther as she is drafted into the military, trained as a crewmember aboard a battleship, and then ultimately partakes in a space-battle against a fourhundred-kilometer-diameter Hominid “core-ship”.
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November 12, 2011 I also uploaded a rough-draft of a short-story that I am working on, SuperWarehouse-MegaMansion. Imagine a mansion six-hundred meters by threehundred meters, by nine floors. One-thousand staff. One-thousand exotic Animalpeople slaves. And all the blue-water you can drink. (Mature content.)
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 28/9/2011) ABOUT PREVIOUS ATTACKS ON NEARBY HOMINID -PLANETS I previously described several attacks on nearby Hominid planets, based on telepathic news-distribution requests. The damage reported was sometimes severely-overstated.
The earthquake-attack by the Greys on one local Hominid-planet was only a 8-ish in magnitude. It killed only a few million people. (I wrote this on “1/2/2011”, mislabeled as “1/2/2010”.)
The attacks on Leera, the subject of a reality-television show, were not as severe as described. (I wrote this on “19/3/2011”, mislabeled as “19/3/2010”.)
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November 12, 2011 The planetoid-attack took-place in another galaxy. (I cannot find the “War update” date.)
The meteor-shower attack did take place, but on a smaller satellite-planet. (“30/6/2011”)
Consequently, read the following attack-news with doubts about the scale and veracity of the attacks.
RECENT ATTACKS ON NEARBY HOMINID PLANETS
A week ago, Leera, a planet with a population of 4-to-6 billion Hominids, was impaled by an iron meteor, 120-kilometers in diameter. 100-million Hominids are expected to die from the attack. 400 years ago, Leera was shared with a race of two-legged Deer-evolved people. The Hominids ghettoized them, and now retain token populations in reserves, or as enslaved-people. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_reservation)
A few days ago, a smaller Hominid-planet, with a population of 1-to-2 billion people, was hit by a 100-gigaton bomb, intended to crater an urban/military region of the planet containing very-deep tunnels. The crater would be approximately 10-kilometers deep, and perhaps 100-kilometers in diameter. Hidden “within” the planet, was a stolen Grey bomb. The bomb was a very-very-high-tech bomb that was stolen from the Angma/Anmu Greys,
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November 12, 2011 when their planet was pulverized by the Hominids half a year ago. (“8/4/2011”). 16-to-60 similar-bombs have been stolen, and hidden-away “in planets” by the local Hominids (The Milky-Way Galaxy, Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk) Galaxy, and the Andromeda Galaxy). The invisible bombs can rapidly move-themselves ANYWHERE “within” the planet. Ten-minutes before the nuclear-missile was launched, Hominoid militaryleadership INTENTIONALLY moved the bomb to the target-site of the 100gigaton nuke. The race that fired the 100-gigaton nuclear-missile did NOT know that the super-bomb had been moved. Nor did they know of its existence. Nor did they know the possible consequences of nuking the Grey-bomb. Other more-technological non-Hominoid militaries knew that the bomb had been moved… Similar “Human shield” threats had been used by the Hominids before... Which is why attacks on the local Hominid-planets have intentionally NOT been severe… Which is why the local Hominidgovernments have been-able to suppress news-coverage of the war, claiming that the visible war-damages are from “terrorist attacks”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_shield) The 100-gigaton nuke uncontrollably-detonated the
Grey-bomb. The
planet is approximately 9000-kilometers in diameter. The detonation produced a massive crater, 2500-kilometers in diameter, 400-kilometers deep. Due to detonation damage, realignments of the planet’s atmosphere and underground aquifers, and earthquakes, meteorite showers, and an expected pole-shift, one-quarter of the people on the planet are expected to die over the next few months. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pole_shift)
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REASONS FOR THE ATTACKS The local Milky-Way-Galaxy Hominid-planets partook in attacks in this taurosphere. Some of the recent attacks that the Hominids partook in are:
The attacks and sometimes-destruction of the local Grey planets. (“8/4/2011”)
Attacks on the Cat-evolved nations. (“15/7/2011”)
The destruction of the Hulu moon-sized space-station, populated by 2billion Hulu. (“5/9/2011”)
The just-beginning occupation and enslavement of “Faerie” and Abloom. These are multiracial Mammaloid zones.
NONE of the local-Hominid planetary-governments publicly-broadcast news about non-Hominoid attacks on their citizens… except for Lilac, which misattributed and propagandized the attacks.
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POSSIBLE CONSEQUENCE S OF THE ATTACKS
Due to participation by Milky-Way-Galaxy Hominids, non-Hominoid militaries are legally allowed to kill approximately 5-billion Hominids in the Milky-Way Galaxy. The attack on Leera counts as 180-million Hominid-deaths. The attack on the other cratered-planet, counts as the lethality of a 100-gigaton nuke, plus part of the Grey-bomb damage, 200-million to 500-million deaths, not-yet adjudicated.
Grey-bombs are hidden in other Hominid planets in the Milky-WayGalaxy. The bombs are EXTREMELY-EXTREMELY dangerous in Hominid hands. Their possession might result in imminent attacks on all space-faring Hominid-planets in the Milky-Way-Galaxy.
“The Whites” (people distantly-related to the GREYS) have similar bombs hidden in their planets. Now that Hominid militaries know that the bombs can be detonated by 100-gigaton nukes, “The Whites” now fear that Hominid militaries will intentionally detonate their hidden bombs, destroying the planets of “The Whites”. Consequently, “The Whites” are more-likely to use their bombs in the near future.
Despite the fact that the original 100-gigaton detonation was NOT intended to kill the a large-portion of planet’s population, the race that fired the 100-gigaton nuclear-missile is likely to be hunted-down and genocided by the Hominoid Empire, FOREVER. This has happened before.
The Hominoids in this taurosphere will most-likely carry-out bloody-anddevastating revenge-attacks over the next half-year to a year. NonHominoids will pre-emotively counter-attack Hominoids, to prevent the revenge-attacks.
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November 12, 2011 Hominoids from all-over, are likely to stream into our taurosphere, and partake in the bloody-and-devastating revenge-attacks. The war will quicken and broaden. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jihad)
“Now that you mention it…” – Hominoids have other equivalent-sized bombs hidden “within” other Hominoid-planets. Non-Hominoid militaries will now pay more-attention to them. The Six Kingdoms, Lots of Stars (K’ Tick Tuk) Galaxy, and a few-other Hominoid-settled galaxies are more-likely to be attacked now.
Non-Hominoid militaries, NOT non-Hominoid civilian-governments, may use “disclosure” of low-tech Hominids as a military device. In military terms, the deaths of a billion Hominids on a planet can be seen as the elimination of resources from the enemy’s war-effort. The military would rather halt the enemy’s war-effort than kill people. Non-disclosed planets are seen as resources-in-hiatus by the Hominoid militaries. Rather than killing a billion Hominoids on space-faring Hominidplanets, the non-Hominoid MILITARIES might “disclose” to a largepopulation low-tech Hominid-planet. They would ENFORCE peace – This means weapons. They would LIMIT the resources that the space-faring Hominids would have access to. They would use the planet as a tool to SOLVE CIVILIAN WAR-REFUGEE problems (people who do NOT wish to partake in the war). They would use the planet to HELP SOLVE the Hominoid image-problem, a legal euphemism. THEY ARE consulting-with their lawyers about this, now.
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November 12, 2011
WAR HISTORY (PART 3) (WRITTEN 6/10/2011) 1850-TO-NOW WAR, AND 1890-TO-1994 WAR For both the 1850-to-now war (-, 2-5), and the 1890-to-1994 war (-, 7-9):
22% (approximately) of Hominoids were killed by enemies.
5% of Hominoids were killed by internal pogroms.
13% of Hominoids fled-migrated.
Reconstruction of the post-war Hominoid-societies by non-Hominoids is being worked-on, but Jihadist-Hominoids are causing MAJOR impediments to non-Hominoid reconstruction efforts. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jihadism)
In World-War-II Germany: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Germany)
8%-to-10.5% of Germany’s population was killed by enemies, and/or internal pogroms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II_casualties)
30.4% of German military-personnel were killed.
5.7 million Jews were pogromed, not all in German-occupied territory. Germany’s population was 70-million, at the time. Poland, with the highestnumber of pogrom-victims, had a population of 35-million people. France, also occupied by Germany, had a population of 41-million people. Germanoccupied territory had a population of approximately 160-to-200-million people, resulting in a 2.9%-to-3.5% mortality from German pogroms. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Holocaust)
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November 12, 2011 12% - 14% of Germans and ethnic-Germans migrated across national borders after the war. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flight_and_expulsion_of_Germans_(1944%E2 %80%931950) )
After the war, an enormous post-war reconstruction effort was undertaken, some of which was directed towards Germany. German resistance-fighters only caused minor problems for post-war-reconstruction aid-workers. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marshall_Plan)
A randomly deep thought The “Noldor” (most-likely NOT their official racial-name) are another race of Hominoids. Tall and slender, Noldor have sandy-brown skin, and silver-blond hair. Some of them only have four toes.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Petrified forests are formed when carbon-free “silt” washes-over a living forest. The forest floor, by definition, MUST be carbon-rich. The silt’s chemicalcomposition must be such that when it seeps into the carbon-nitrogen-rich treetrunks, the chemicals eventually combine to form a hard rock. Following that, the landscape must turn arid. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrified_Forest_National_Park) If you understood more about petrified forests, you would understand more about petroleum-oil production.
MAMMALOID “REPLICANTS” As stated previously, Hominids have “produced” more soldiers and war-time factory-workers by increasing birth-rates, and employing “fast-grow” chemicals to speed-up childhood-growth by up-to a factor of two. Mammaloids have also used “fast-grow” chemicals to “produce” more children. As described in the “Furred-Saurian parthenogenesis” section, Mammaloids are also creating soldiers and war-time factory-workers using parthenogenesis. The word, “replicant”, from the movie “Blade Runner”, is insulting, but somewhat appropriate. Replicants begin consciousness with synthetic knowledge and a synthetic personality, but become full-fledged adult-people in a decade or two, just as infants turn into adults over two decades. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Replicant, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blade_Runner)
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November 12, 2011
A deeply random thought The eeoo, a time-travelling race, have recently expanded their prophecy-line to include wedding prophecies.
DINOSAUR FACTOIDS
Allosaurs do NOT roar. They make a burbling sound, somewhat like the sound of the mythical jabberwocky from the story, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Behind the Looking-glass. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allosaurus, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jabberwocky, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice%27s_Adventures_in_Wonderland, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Through_the_Looking-Glass) By the way, the “caterpillar” in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, may have been a Centipede-evolved person. The Cheshire-cat wore an encounter-suit. Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb were Alotians – maybe. There are Walrus-evolved people, but they are very rare. The Dodo-evolved people all went extinct millions of years ago. Lewis Carol may have mistaken an Archaeopteryx-evolved person for a Dodo, though. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheshire_Cat,
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November 12, 2011 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tweedle_Dee_%26_Tweedle_Dum, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dodo)
Tyrannosaurs do NOT roar. The giggle. They can vocalize when both exhaling and inhaling. Hominids can do this also, but rarely include inhaledvocalization as a language feature. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus)
Velociraptors do NOT screech, as portrayed in the movie, Jurassic Park. They grunt, and produce harsh low-frequency “coos”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jurassic_Park_(film) )
Brontosauruses are aquatic reef-fishers. They sit on-top of a reef, and dip their head into the water to catch parrot-fish. They are magenta-coloured on their backs, and yellow-cream coloured on their bellies. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brontosaurus)
Plesiosaurs are frigid-water feeders. They are dark blue-grey in colour on their backs, and a very-light-blue colour on their stomachs. Never-ever-ever go canoeing in plesiosaur waters. Nor should you go canoeing with a Plesiosaur-evolved person in your boat. The Loch-Ness monster could well have been a plesiosaur, left in the loch as a joke. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plesiosaur, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loch_Ness_Monster)
Trilobites are not dinosaurs. They are pesky aquatic rock-chewers that live in low-salt seas. A “mohair” is a lovable trilobite-ancestor, resembling a three-meter long tortoise, with a two-meter-high very-thick vertical-neck. Enthusiasts raise them as backyard pets, “guard dogs”, and for low-speed high-tension races. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilobite)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Creepy-basement feeling – The “creepy-basement feeling” often comes from electromagnetic-fields created by very-large fungal rhizomes that live underneath temperate-climate houses, particularly houses with half-basements. The rhizome thrives underneath the house because the warmth of the house prevents the damp ground below from freezing. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhizome)
COMPARING EARTH’S SOCIETY (PART 3)
Automobiles – Private automobiles are uncommon on other planets. If they exist, they are typically sub-compact cars WITHOUT heavy fancy-interiors. Low-speed motorcycles are VERY common.
Fast-food and takeaway-food – A person should be able to live entirelyand-completely off a selection of five substantially-different fast-food and takeaway restaurants. Deep-fried fast-food is actually healthy, but should be consumed no-more than once-or-twice a week. Pizza is healthy once-a-week IF high-quality ingredients are used, and if the person doesn’t-already consume largeamounts of bread.
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November 12, 2011 Some “healthy” fast-food and takeaway-shops are NOT healthy: Some subsandwich restaurants claim to be healthy, but they use low-quality ingredients, with insufficient nutrient-density. Manufactured/purified “lowfat” fast-food and takeaway is often too-low in nutrition density. Some “Asian” fast-food and takeaway is unhealthy because of the chemicalsauces, flavor-enhancers, and preservatives. A larger variety of meats, vegetables, fruits, and grains should be available from the menu. Fast-food/takeaway restaurants can meet this requirement by changing their menus seasonally, as well as by incorporating localproduce into their menus. Some fast-food/takeaway restaurants on other planets change their menus daily.
Marriage – Many Chimpanzee-evolved nations have time-limited marriagecontracts, of approximately 10-to-12 years. They are nearly unbreakable, until they expire. The marriage-contracts are designed to last through the childhood of the first child. If a second child is born, the marriage-contract can be extended a few years. They cannot be extended longer than that.
Supermarkets – Supermarkets on other planets offer healthier foods, on average. One-third of the food products on Earth-Sol supermarkets would be ILLEGAL on other planets. Their nutrition-to-preservatives/chemicals ratio is too-low, particularly easy-cook sauces. A second one-third of the products would be considered unhealthy (without sufficient nutrition per bulk fats, proteins, and carbohydrates), and only appropriate for occasional snacks. This category includes canned-foods, jarred-foods, potato chips, granola bars, and some cereals. The third one-third of Earth-Sol food-products IS healthy, ALTHOUGH the low-end of that one-third (such as low-end cheddar-cheese) would be illegal, because the low-end brands contain far-fewer nutrients than the slightly-more-expensive medium-range brands.
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November 12, 2011 “Diet” products are almost-always so-low in nutrition that they aren’t worth eating. Lamb and veal are considered immoral on most planets. Hunted meats are also immoral. Modern Earth-Sol chicken is nutrition-less. Other meats should be available in supermarkets, including mutton, goat, emu, and llama.
A deeply random thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Frisbees – Frisbees fly by creating a cyclone underneath the Frisbee shell. Lowpressure in the centre sucks-up air from below, pushing the Frisbee upwards. The sucked-up air spirals out at the edges of the Frisbee. Electrostatic charges also help. Frisbee-design can be greatly-improved by using more-electrostatic plastics, fine-tuning the Frisbee centre-dimple, and adding friction-ridges on the Frisbee’s underside. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frisbee) Aerobie – Aerobie’s work by creating a very-flat jet turbine. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aerobie)
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought Hominoid hostage-takers own-and-operate one-kilometre-long “soul-stone” ships, where they hold the souls of prisoners/hostages, attached to soul-stones. The bodies of the prisoners/hostages are unnecessary. One ship holds ten-tofifty-million prisoners/hostages.
WHAT FOUR-LEGGED ANIMAL-PEOPLE RACES LOOK LI KE
Four-legged horse/pony-evolved people look like horses, ranging in size from just-below riding-horse-size, to draft-horse-sized, and larger. Their haunches are lower than their shoulders. Their heads are shorter, taller, and wider than Earth-Sol horses. Their necks are often shorter. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draft_horse)
Four-legged wolf/dog-evolved people look like wolves/dogs. Their heads are larger than their Earth-Sol ancestors, with relatively-shorter muzzles. Their haunches are higher than those in animal wolves/dogs. Their forepaws can often be used as hands. They weigh 70-to-150 kilograms.
Four-legged cat-evolved people look like wild large-cats. Their heads are larger than their Earth-Sol ancestors, with relatively-shorter muzzles. Their fore-paws can often be used as hands. They weigh 70-to-200 kilograms.
On many space-faring Hominid-planets, ANTISLAVERY Hominids are REQUIRED to own slaves. Some of the wealthy off-planet Hominids living on Earth-Sol may also be REQUIRED to own slaves. As a legal-compromise, they may have imported four3094 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 legged Animal-people onto Earth-Sol, believing that the four-legged Animal-people were “intelligent pets”. “Intelligent pets” are purpose-bred pets, as intelligent as animal-dolphins. Four-legged animal-people often pretend to be “intelligent pets”, so that they are not mistreated as slaves or prisoners-of-war. Several-thousand fourlegged animal-people, some of them spaceplane pilots, might be masquerading as horses, dogs, and large cats in private zoos/stables on Earth-Sol. They might also be used as breeding stock, being bred-raped with Earth-Sol animals. Their children are more-intelligent than “intelligent pets”, but they can be very ornery.
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... “Sand planets” are planets without any topography or surface-water. Winds circle evenly along latitudinal lines. Over millions of years, the winds erode stone into sand. The winds then filter the sand particles by size-and-density, depositing similar sand-particles over latitudinal bands on the planet’s surface. Jupiter-like striations eventually form on the planet. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jupiter) Jupiter is NOT a sand-planet, but similar particle-and-wind interactions might explain Jupiter’s colour-bands.
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November 12, 2011 A randomly deep thought Who would be a better mentor-race, not necessarily wiser? An 82-million yearold race, or a 20-million year-old race with physical-traits, personalities, and a culture more similar to your own?
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN SKETCHES (PART 7) HADROSAUR-EVOLVED
Hadrosaur-evolved, distantly related to Pterosaurs. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadrosaurid, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pterosaur)
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November 12, 2011
A randomly deep thought One of the mysteries of the universe explained... Tails are important for chemical generation, because their muscle-tissue and fat-tissue are cooler than similar tissues in the animal’s body. Consequently, tailfat, tail-muscles, and tail-skin produces different-and-important chemicals.
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November 12, 2011 A deeply random thought “Skye” is a pen-and-paper role-playing game for isolated pre-teens and teenagers. In a traditional role-playing game, like Dungeons & Dragons, four-tosix players control characters in a virtual world created-and-simulated by another player, called a dungeon-master. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tabletop_role-playing_game, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_%26_Dragons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeon_Master) In Skye, there is a Skye-master, not a dungeon-master. Players who control characters are optional. The fun part about Sky is creating your own world. The Skye-master begins their world as an imaginary void, “filled with nothing but sky”. From there, the rule-book helps the Skye-master create a landscape, or space-scape, or virtual-scape. At page-number fifty, the rule-book helps the Skye-master create simplistic story-characters. At page one-hundred-and-fifty, the Skye-book helps the Skye-master create their own village. A Skye-master begins creating a unique culture by page three-hundred-and-eight. Then the Sky-book returns back to the Skye-master’s story-characters, telling the Skyemaster how to make deeper-and-richer personalities. By the time the Skymaster has finished reading the FIVE-THOUSAND page Skye-book, several decades later, they have created their own world. An Orangutan-vocalized one-hundred-hour audio-CD of Skye-creation background-music comes with the game-book.
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November 12, 2011
WARTIME DISCLOSURE POSSIBILITIES (PART 1 ) “We just thought a few Greys would show up, and give us a UFO.” – Anonymous
From one of the short-stories that I wrote:
Disclosure from the aliens’ point-of-view – Choice fiction This is a “Choose Your Own Adventure”-style book, where you participate in “disclosure” on Earth-Sol as an alien. You decide what your alien character does. See if you can help “disclosure” to happen smoothly. (http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf) Many of the possible outcomes-and-events of the story are already out-of-date.
From above, in “Possible consequences of the attacks”:
Non-Hominoid militaries, NOT non-Hominoid civilian-governments, may use “disclosure” of low-tech Hominids as a military device. In military terms, the deaths of a billion Hominids on a planet can be seen as the elimination of resources from the enemy’s wareffort. The military would rather halt the enemy’s war-effort than kill people. 3100 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Non-disclosed planets are seen as resources-in-hiatus by the Hominoid militaries. Rather than killing a billion Hominoids on space-faring Hominid-planets, the non-Hominoid MILITARIES might “disclose” to a large-population low-tech Hominid-planet. They would ENFORCE peace – This means weapons. They would LIMIT the resources that the space-faring Hominids would have access to. They would use the planet as a tool to SOLVE CIVILIAN WAR-REFUGEE problems (people who do NOT wish to partake in the war). They would use the planet to HELP SOLVE the Hominoid image-problem, a legal euphemism. THEY ARE consulting-with their lawyers about this, now.
Some more information:
The possibility of wartime-disclosure is VERY low, but it is a possibility worth WORRYING-about.
The current ephemeral-plan is that non-Hominoids who land would NOT have personal weapons – kind of. Armed spaceplanes and space-deployed jet-fighters would be used. Armed spaceplanes are already overflying EarthSol, and have been doing-so since before the stone-age.
One of the worst-possible disclosure outcomes is the “Iraq” scenario. If/when hundreds-of-thousands of non-Hominoids land, it would be VERY easy for Earth-Sol politicians, organizations, and militaries to turn EarthSol into a copy of 2003-to-current-day “Iraq”. When American peacekeepers first entered Iraq in 2003, Iraqis was jubilant, but wary. The American peacekeepers delivered some free UFOs Humvees, as promised. And then the Americans stayed to ensure that the Ba’athists didn’t retake control of Iraq. And then Iraqi society fell apart. And then the American
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November 12, 2011 soldiers had to stay-around to stabilize Iraqi society. And then Jihadist from all-over the world made their way to Iraq to fight the Americans. And then terrorism started-up. And then most of the wealthy/intelligent/skilled Iraqis migrated to Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, and Iran to get-away from the violence, corruption, incompetence, Jihadists, and Americans. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_of_America, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq_War, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baathist, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humvee, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jihadist, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jordan, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syria, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lebanon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iran)
Up to a BILLION war-refugees might immigrate to Earth-Sol. Despite their well-meaning intentions, the refugees, with a median IQ of 120-to-140, would inevitably marginalize indigenous Earth-Sol Hominids. Refugees might include Alotians, Hominids-and-Aussies, Simians, Chimpanzee-evolved, Gorilla-evolved, and Orangutan-evolved people. If enough war-refugees arrive, then citizenship-rights will become a MAJOR issue. Mass-citizenship of space-faring immigrants will lead to multiracial governments, multiracial police-forces, and fast-tracked societalreforms. Immigration would be controlled by non-Hominoids. They would mostlikely encourage a MULTIRACIAL planet, and only permit NON-WARRING individuals to land.
5%-to-20% of Earth-Sol Hominids would most-likely emigrate off of EarthSol over a few decades, even if the “Iraq” scenario were avoided. Though intelligence and skill perquisites are unlikely, the most-intelligent, skilled, and adventuresome indigenous Hominids are more-likely to emigrate. They may not be allowed to emigrate immediately. They might be required to
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November 12, 2011 “work here for a few years, to help-stabilize Earth-Sol’s society,” before emigrating.
Earth-Sol (as well as other “newly-disclosed” planets) could benefit from trade-exports, trade-imports, as a trade-hub, and as a multiracial “diplomatic” hub. Non-Hominoids would dictate trade limitations.
Several-thousand non-disclosed Hominid-planets might be disclosed-to ALLAT-ONCE. WE HAVE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. Mistakes will be made. In the unlikely event of “disclosure”, please work with your friendly aliens to make the transition as smooth as possible.
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November 12, 2011
ANOTHER STORY (17/10/2011) I added another short-story, Abduction Spam, to http://www.disclosuree.com/Stories.pdf. Do you know anyone on an abduction spam-list? This is a Dadaist short-story about what it’s like to abduct an Earthling… from an alien’s point-of-view.
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November 12, 2011 I also uploaded a rough-draft of a short-story that I am working on, Zookeeper. Have you ever wanted to be a zookeeper on a “wilderness planet”? Do you enjoy giving birth to endangered species after having their embryos artificially implanted in your womb? How about discarding your zookeeper body and “going bush” as a wild animal-Cheetah?
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November 12, 2011
MORE ALIEN SKETCHES (PART 8) SEPIIDA-EVOLVED
Sepiida-evolved, wearing a blue-cap. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sepiida) 3106 | P a g e
November 12, 2011
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 22/10/2011) Not this week.
NON-HOMINOID PERCEPTIONS ABOUT THE WAR HOW SOME NON-HOMINOIDS PERCEIVE T HE HOMINOID EMPIRE North Korea is a tiny backwards nation on Earth-Sol. It is run by an oppressive-andinefficient totalitarian-regime. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Korea)
North Korea’s proletariat is prevented from escaping the country.
Meanwhile, North Korea’s leadership goes on holidays in wealthy countries elsewhere on the planet.
Everyone-else on the planet thinks, “Gee, we’d like to help the North Koreans. Diplomacy hasn’t worked, though. We cannot help the people, unless we invade North-Korea, and we don’t really want to invade another country… especially since the North-Korean leadership threatens to nuke the invading country.” Consequently, North Koreans must escape through a walled border with neighboring China. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China)
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November 12, 2011 Regrettably for North-Korean citizens, other nations are prepared to leave North Korea alone, as long as North Korea isn’t belligerent towards its neighbors.
ZOOMING-OUT FURTHER (A NEW MAP)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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November 12, 2011
TELƏRÍN Telərín is the name of the region of space where the eeoo and other races live. (, 3-4) The region has markedly-different physics from our stars-and-planets. The people of Telərín can live there unaided. Races from our physics cannot comfortably exist in Telərín without physics-pressurized housing, and imported foods-and-water. The people of Telərín are somewhat insular. They do not interact with our races, other than for trade. They do not expand their nations into their neighbors’ territories. They expect that their neighbors won’t take-over their territory. Surrounding Telərín is a region that is habitable by our races, Hominoids, Simians, Mammaloids, Reptiloids, Greys, etcetera. Because of Telərín’s unique physics, the people there can produce different/better technology to ours, as well as resources for export. Exports are VERY profitable. Consequently, over the last hundred-million years, many racial metaorganisms have tried to take-over Telərín. Some have invaded and then withdrawn, with much devastation. The people of Telərín prefer to be surrounded by low-tech races so they do-not get invaded and harassed. Forty-million years ago, the people of Telərín secured an agreement so that only low-tech races (and trusted high-tech races) would be allowed to live-near and travel-near Telərín, an “exclusion” region covering (-, 1-7) Over the last twenty-million years, the region around Telərín has been inhabited by low-tech Nor, low-tech Alotians, low-tech Mammaloids, low-tech Simians, low-tech Chimpanzee-evolved people, low-tech Gorilla-evolved people, low-tech Orangutanevolved people, and low-tech Hominoids. The Lemur-evolved people (as well as others) are trusted by the Telərín nations, and they are legally-allowed better technology. Over the last few-hundred years, the technology-levels of the “low tech” races in the “exclusion” region (-, 1-7) have skyrocketed. The people of Telərín are VERY concerned about this. 3109 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 Because the Hominoid-Empire has been building a high-tech civilization in the “exclusion” region, Telərín militaries have been participating in attacks on the Hominoid-Empire. Telərín militaries are also concerned about “exclusion”-region non-Hominoid civilizations that have augmented their technology-levels. Telərín militaries have also-entered-into smaller conflicts with a few non-Hominoids nations.
RACE-REJUVENATION REGION Our taurosphere is located within the local “race-rejuvenation region”. (-, 69)The region houses races with critically-low genetic-diversity, and/or with other problems. The race-rejuvenation “corporation” rejuvenates these races over millions of years. The race-rejuvenation “corporation” is owned and operated by a consortium of Insectoids, some Reptiloids, and many genetically-distant races that are only vaguely-described by the author, HP Lovecraft, and the science-fiction televisionseries, Babylon 5. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._P._Lovecraft, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon_5) 85% of the population of the race-rejuvenation region is non-Reptiloid and nonMudskipper-evolved. Mammaloids, Hominoids, Simians, Lemurs, and Saurians are all mudskipper-evolved. Most of the Reptiloid-people and Mudskipper-people, 15% of the total-population of the region, are clients/subjects of the race-rejuvenation projects. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mudskipper) The Hominoid-Empire is currently invading and occupying the Reptiloid/Mudskipper planets in the race-rejuvenation region, as well as enslaving and genociding the Mammaloids, Lemurs, and Reptiloids.
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November 12, 2011 The race-rejuvenation “corporation” does NOT like being invaded by the HominoidEmpire, nor does it like the genocide that is occurring. Most races in the racerejuvenation “corporation” are currently neutral, and not partaking in the war.
EARTH-SOL HOMINID-POPULATION “VOTING RIGHTS”
Indigenous Hominids, 20% Local spacefaring Hominids, 10.00%
Other, 54.24%
Alotians, 9.09%
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More-distant space-faring Hominids, 6.67%
November 12, 2011
OTHER POSSIBLE ROUTE S TO DISCLOSURE
Preparation for migration (Emigration and immigration) – Zero or more of the following policies/programs might be used to prepare people of EarthSol for emigration off of the planet, as well as immigration onto the planet. Earth-Sol could be hauled to a different sun, for political-and-security reasons – To keep Earth-Sol away from the space-faring Hominids, Earth-Sol might be hauled to a different sun. Fauna imports – New varieties of pets might suddenly appear in pet shops, such as non-dangerous pet-Cougars. This happened on Earth-Sol in the past. Flora imports – Have you ever wondered where new varieties of fruits and grains come from? Perhaps they were brought to Earth-Sol sometime in the last one-hundred years? We do not think that this is currently happening. Intelligence degradation, causing society to fall-back to 1850’s technology, making Earth-Sol less-attractive to space-faring Hominids – Earth-Sol is currently a VERY-attractive holiday/retirement planet for space-faring Hominids due to its decent technology. If the planet’s technology were rolled-back to 1850’s industrial-revolution technology, then the space-faring Hominids would leave. Earth-Sol’s indigenous-population would most-likely be ignored by the Hominoid-Empire. And then, a policy of “meet the aliens” could be introduced. Reducing the median-IQ of people to 90, would return Earth-Sol to the industrial revolution. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Industrial_Revolution) More-people interact with “aliens” in their dreams – “Furries” are already having dreams that include Mammaloids. Science-fiction authors have dreams that include space-battles and alien-looking races. This program could be expanded. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom) Products from other planets begin appearing on Earth-Sol store-shelves – Do you know where your television was manufactured? How do you know that it wasn’t manufactured on another planet? Imported products on store-shelves could clue-in perceptive indigenous-Hominids that “aliens” exist. We do NOT think that this is currently happening.
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November 12, 2011 Reincarnation into Earth-Sol infants – Infants born onto Earth-Sol have new souls-and-awarenesses… except for infants of parents from some religions. Those few-people reincarnated onto Earth-Sol, have most of their memories erased soon after birth. Policy changes could permit them to maintain memories of previous lives. Policies could be also modified to allow more reincarnations. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reincarnation) Some people’s bodies could be transformed into Mammaloid, Simian, and Chimpanzee-evolved shapes – The genetics and bone-shapes of tens-ofmillions of consenting indigenous Earth-Sol Hominids could be modified over the course of decades, with individual body-conversions requiring a year. People’s DNA and bone-shapes can be converted to most Mammaloid, Simian, and Chimpanzee-evolved forms. (There is a 1950’s short-story about someone slowly transforming into a two-legged Unicorn, and attacking a mainframe computer with their magical horn. I cannot find the story-name. The story MAY have been written by Shirley Jackson, but I don’t remember. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Jackson) Some women could give birth to non-Hominid children – It is possible to implant Mammaloid embryos into the wombs of consenting Hominidwomen. This is NOT happening on Earth-Sol at the moment, but it is possible. Soul mergers – To mentally-inoculate indigenous-Hominids against the shock of meeting “aliens”, hundreds-of-millions of consenting-people on Earth-Sol could have the souls-and-awarenesses of bodily-deceased Mammaloid “aliens” merged-in with them. People with merged souls would have memories of life on other planets, as well as the wisdom (and skills and knowledge) from those lives. This is already occurring with some “furries”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom) Stories influenced by people from other planets – Science-fiction and fantasy stories written by Earth-Sol authors are already telepathicallyinfluenced by “aliens”.
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November 12, 2011 Telepathy is turned-on for more people – Telepathy could be activated for more people on Earth-Sol, letting more-people telepathically communicate with “aliens”. Videos from other planets begin appearing on the internet – Videos from other planets could be handed to abductees. The abductees could upload them onto the Internet. This is (kind-of) already happening, since off-planet Hominids who land, bring videos of “alien” sightings, which they upload to the YouTube internet-database. (http://www.youtube.com/)
Continue with the status-quo –Earth-Sol migration policy might continue to operate without any changes. This is only a partial list… – Other, more-creative policies-and-programs exist.
Alternative migration-initiation plans (Emigration and immigration) – These are different ways that the process of interplanetary migration could be initiated. Hominids land silently, over a hundred years – Their arrival is never announced. It merely becomes obvious, first to very-perceptive indigenousHominids, and then the realization slowly trickles-down to everyone. This appears to be the current plan. Hominids land openly and publicly – Space-faring Hominids land at airports, and get world-wide news-coverage. Mammaloids land, followed by Hominoid-Empire friendly/neutral migration – As I discussed in “Wartime disclosure possibilities (Part 1)”, above.
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November 12, 2011
Greys land, followed by Hominoid-Empire friendly/neutral migration – As I discussed in “Wartime disclosure possibilities (Part 1)”, above. Reptiloids land, followed by Hominoid-Empire friendly/neutral migration – As I discussed in “Wartime disclosure possibilities (Part 1)”, above. This approach is unlikely, since the “Iraq”-scenario becomes more-likely. Insectoids land, followed by Hominoid-Empire friendly/neutral migration – As I discussed in “Wartime disclosure possibilities (Part 1)”, above. This approach is unlikely, since the “Iraq”-scenario becomes more-likely. Other landing scenarios – Other landing scenarios are possible.
Mass-abductions – Most people on Earth-Sol seem happy with the statusquo, and don’t seem to desire a potentially-traumatic “landing” scenario. Perhaps only 5% to 10% of the population strongly-desires contact with “alien” civilizations. Over a few decades, the “alien”-friendly people might be secretly-and-silently abducted, and flown-off the planet. “Hidden city” with a spaceport, which keen-people can discover – Some non-space-faring societies have a “hidden city” located in the middle of an unpopulated desert. Spaceplanes land and take-off from there all of the time. The 5% to 10% of the population who strongly-desires contact with “aliens”, finds their way to the “hidden city”, and migrates away-from the planet without greatly-disturbing the planet’s culture. Earth-Sol does NOT have a “hidden city” at the moment, though space-faring Hominids are taking-off and landing in various secret-locations. Indigenous Hominids are allowed to invent spaceplane technology, and migrate-themselves off of Earth-Sol – Indigenous Hominids are currently working on spaceplane technology. In another fifty-ish years, our spaceplanes might be able to reach neighboring stars. Once our pilots travel the neighboring stars, it will become obvious that “aliens” exist. Indigenous Hominids could then migrate-off of Earth-Sol, using our own technology.
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November 12, 2011 Premature death (perhaps by disease) of Indigenous-Hominids who wish to migrate off-of Earth-Sol – Most people on Earth-Sol seem happy with the status-quo, and don’t seem to desire a potentially-traumatic “landing” scenario. Perhaps only 5% to 10% of the population strongly-desires contact with “alien” civilizations. Over a few decades, the “alien”-friendly people might be secretly-and-silently euthanized by mysterious diseases, their souls transported to live in “alien” civilizations. The souls of indigenous Hominids are transported off-of Earth-Sol when their bodies die of old age – This is the current policy, though some people seem to be trapped from lifetime-to-lifetime on Earth-Sol by the Hominoid bureaucracy. Unoccupied personal-spaceplanes automatically land in people’s garages – Spaceplanes are so simple to fly, that one-hundred thousand spaceplanes could automatically land in lottery-selected garages around the planet, with a greeting card titled, “Welcome to the Galaxy!”
Continue with the status-quo – Earth-Sol migration-policy might continue to operate without any changes. This is only a partial list… – Other, more-creative migration-initiation plans exist.
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November 12, 2011 COMPLETELY UNDESIRABLE Outcomes – These outcomes are possible, but completely undesirable. Incredibly-massive “natural disaster” – Earth-Sol could be an unintentional casualty of the war. Impact by a very-large meteor, or a planetoid, or a moon is possible, not to mention the other “natural disaster”-style warattacks. Mass infertility – Regrettably, a mass-infertility plan could be implemented if it is politically-or-technically impossible to introduce migration off of Earth-Sol. Society crumbles, and the indigenous-Hominid population declines to nopopulation – Regrettably, this plan could be implemented if it is politicallyor-technically impossible to introduce migration off of Earth-Sol.
WAR UPDATE (WRITTEN 12/11/2011) LILAC (OR LILIAC?) The local Hominid-nations have shipped-and-detonated very-large 600-gigaton bombs to attack the SSSk at (GG, 8). Lilac Hominids participated in these attacks. A few weeks ago, a SSSk battleship destroyed a partially-constructed 600-gigaton bomb on Lilac, as it was being assembled within a cargo-ship. The cargo-ship was expected to launch with the completed bomb in a few weeks-to-months. Undesirably, the partially-constructed bomb detonated, producing a thirty-gigaton detonation, which destroyed the military-base and nearby-city.
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November 12, 2011 Lilac’s planetary leadership ordered a counterattack on some Saurian nations in the Andromeda Galaxy, as well as on SSSk planets, and on some nearby non-Saurian nations. A few days after the Hominoid counterattack, in a retaliation-counterattack to the Hominoid-counterattack, various non-Hominoid nations detonated bunker-busting bombs on Lilac, intending to destroy many military-bunkers. Many of the bunkers were located underneath city-centers. Many city-centers received direct bomb damage, or toppled into the sinkholes created by the bombs. Approximately thirtymillion people were killed in the attacks. BEFORE the non-Hominoid militaries launched their bunker-busting bombs, a Grey SWAT (swift-action) team disabled two of their stolen petaton-bombs, that the Hominids were storing “inside” Lilac. (See the war update written on “28/9/2011”.) The Greys HAD-TO disable the bombs, or the bombs’ accidental detonations might utterly-destroy the planet of Lilac. One bomb was successfully disabled. The other partially detonated, producing earthquakes around the planet, up to magnitude-8 (0.9 meters sway). More people, fifty-million(?), were killed by the earthquake’s building-damage and aquifercracking. Lilac television reported the bombings. Only two-other Hominid-planets reported the bombings on their television-news, both in the Milky-Way Galaxy. The attacks were only reported as “non-committal one-liners” on those two planets. The gist of the news-reports was something-like, “A nearby Hominid-planet was [mildly] attacked by Reptiloids.”
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November 12, 2011
THE PULVERIZATION OF THE ANGMA/ANMU (“GREYS”) PLANET A petaton is 1000 teratons, 1,000,000 gigatons, or 1,000,000,000 megatons. The 16-to-60 bombs that were stolen from the Greys when their planet was pulverized, were up to four-petatons in power. (War update written on “28/9/2011”.) The Angma/Anmu planet that was pulverized (War update written on “8/4/2011”) was destroyed by one (or two?) of the Greys’ petaton-bombs, hidden in their planet. A very-very-very-high-tech Hominoid SWAT-team assaulted, and took-over the bomb’s control facilities (located within the bombs themselves), and then detonated the bombs. The Anmu/Angma planet was a “rubble planet”, constructed from the rubble of a previous rubble-planet, constructed from the rubble of a previous rubble-planet that had been combined with an asteroid or two. At some point a few hundred-million years before, the rubble-planet was originally a solidcore planet that had been broken-apart. When the petaton bomb detonated, the Anmu/Angma planet flew-apart, back into rubble. The planet-pieces will hopefully be restored to a rubble-planet in a few-hundred-thousand years.
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November 12, 2011
PETATON-BOMB DISABLING The Grey nation(s) decided that disabling their stolen bombs was critical. Hominoid militaries were intentionally relocating the bombs stolen from the Greys to protect military-bases, military-bunkers, and leadership-cities on Hominoidplanets. With stolen petaton bombs “in the way”, SSSk militaries were be unable to safely retaliate against the Hominoids. The Grey nation(s) was(were) legally responsible for disabling their stolen bombs, because their stolen-bombs were/are too-technological for the SSSk-versusHominoid war. As long as the Hominoids possessed the stolen bombs, there would be no way that the SSSk could “safely” proceed in the war. After successfully-and-unsuccessfully disabling the stolen bombs “inside” Lilac, Grey SWAT-teams were near-simultaneously sent to disable all of the petaton-bombs stolen from the
. Some of the bombs unintentionally-detonated at far-less
than full-tonnage, causing minor earthquake damage throughout the planets. These earthquakes were detected by the Hominoid governments, and interpreted as attacks. Additionally, the greatly-reduced detonations destroyed other weaponry “hidden” inside the Hominoid-planets. Very-very regrettably, one Hominoid planet was utterly-destroyed by a failed deactivation.
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November 12, 2011
TERATON-BOMB DISABLING Teraton bombs are often used as an inverted “Mutually assured destruction” by planet governments. Simply put, “If you attack my planet with that 30-gigaton nuke, it might accidentally set-off the teraton bomb located “inside” my planet. You would then be responsible for the destruction of the planet, and the death of a large-portion of its citizens. You don’t want to be responsible for that.” Many nations, including non-Hominoid nations, employ this defense-strategy. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutual_assured_destruction) The Hominoid planetary-governments were using the stolen petaton-bombs, mentioned above, for a similar purpose-and-agenda – just like they would use a teraton-bomb. As a cascading-consequence of Grey SWAT-teams disabling their petaton-bombs, other non-Hominoid races/governments decided that they should disable the teraton-bombs hidden “within” other Hominoid planets. These disablings produced more planet-wide earthquakes, as well as a few VERY-VERY-large craters in Hominoid plants. Grey SWAT-teams helped with the disabling of some of the teraton-bombs.
STORED-UP MILITARY-BASE, MILITARY-BUNKER, AND LEADERSHIPCITY ATTACKS The petaton and teraton bombs were preventing non-Hominoids from attacking Hominoid military-bases, military-bunkers, and leadership-cities. Now that the petaton/teraton bombs have-been (or are being) disabled, Hominoid military-bases, military-bunkers (often under city centers), and leadership-cities are being attacked. Very-regrettably, not all of the teraton bombs were successfully discovered-anddisabled. Some of the gigaton-sized attacks on Hominoid military-bases, military3121 | P a g e
November 12, 2011 bunkers, and leadership-cities caused the accidental detonation of more hidden teraton-bombs. More one-hundred-kilometer, to one-thousand-kilometer, to tenthousand-kilometer diameter craters were created in Hominoid planets. Many-many people died.
EXPECTED HOMINOID COUNTERATTACKS
The petaton/teraton bomb-disablings produced civilian and military deaths.
The bomb-disablings produced property-damaging earthquakes and craters.
Other military devices “inside” the Hominoid planets were destroyed by the detonations.
The bombs themselves were destroyed, resulting in financial losses.
The bomb-disablings devalued Hominoid military-strategies. The bombdisablings enable subsequent-and-currently-occurring military-base, military-bunker, and leadership-city bombings.
Hominoid militaries are expected to counterattack in retaliation, for the petaton/teraton bomb-detonations in their planets. They are expected to counterattack just about anyone/everyone. Hominoid militaries are expected to counterattack at four-times the original damage.
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November 12, 2011 Non-Hominoid militaries are expected to retaliate-counterattack the Hominoidcounterattacks, at approximately half of the Hominoid counterattack-damage. Four multiplied by one-half, equals two… resulting in potentially ad-infinitum retaliation-counterattacks. Theoretically, this value needs to be much-less than one before the war will end.
A randomly deep thought I wish to apologize for the use of the word “Nosferatu” to describe the veryhigh-tech and very-wealthy Hominoids who use body-swapping, and who control the death regimes on their planets.
CAT-EVOLVED NEWS-CHANNELS The “premier” cable-television package, distributed to the leadership of the Catevolved nations, has approximately twenty channels. Five of those channels are news. (Cat-evolved “leadership” includes members of the leadership-class, business executives, elected government-officials, decision-making government-employees, and military-leadership.)
Round-the-clock news (available to non-leadership) – This news-channel is like CNN (or MSNBC, or the BBC) combined with A&E (Arts & Entertainment – educated-people stuff). Local non-war news is covered, mostly politics.
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November 12, 2011 War-evacuation news-articles are now being shown. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CNN, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MSNBC, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC_News, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A%26E_Network)
The “Bubble” channel (available to non-leadership) – This is a narration-less “weather-channel”-like news-station, which shows the advance of Hominoid militaries into the Cat-evolved “Empire” that surrounds the HominoidConsortium (formerly called “The Six Kingdoms”). Regions of space where the Hominoids have landed colonies on the Cat-evolved planets are brightly colored. So are regions of space where Hominoid-militaries lurk. Planets that have been attacked, invaded, and/or destroyed are hidden using visual codes. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weather_Channel)
Children’s cartoons (available to non-leadership) – The two children’s television-channels in the “premier” cable-package, are now including heroic-combat and/or horror-film-like miniseries. Hominoids are NEVER shown as an enemy, due to legal restrictions. Regrettably, Reptiloids, Saurians, Insectoids, and G Grreeyyss are shown as substitute “scary” enemies. Sometimes, the enemies are never seen at all, only their fighter-spaceplanes are shown.
The War documentary-channel (leadership-only) – This channel shows documentaries about the war. It is only available to Cat-evolved leadership. See below.
The planet-destruction channel (leadership-only) – This channel loops-over scenes of non-Hominoid planets being destroyed, bombed, moved, and time-dunked. Only the highest-ranking leadership gets to the view this channel.
The infantry channel (leadership-only) – This round-the-clock channel shows videos of infantry combat. Since it is legally hazardous to show images of Hominoids, no Hominoids are shown, nor is their existence even hinted at.
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November 12, 2011 Since showing Cat-evolved people partaking in war would enrage privatecitizens into war, no Cat-evolved people are shown participating in infantry combat, nor is the possibility hinted at. For the most part, Lemur-evolved people are shown fighting Simian-evolved people. This channel is only available to the highest-ranking leadership.
“The War documentary-channel” shows an unending, and seldom-repeating, stream of independently-produced (and government-produced) documentaries:
“Hominoid corruption” – These documentaries investigate corruption in Hominoid nations, particularly corruption which enflames/enflamed the war. Many of the documentaries are created by Hominoids.
“One hour” – This show covers an attack a nearby Hominid planet, in the Milky-Way Galaxy, as I described in “Reality television and the first war”. (Written “19/3/2010”). Over the course of an hour’s broadcast, the documentary’s invisiblecameras show a one-hour time-slice of a nuclear-missile attack on a military underground-bunker. Invisible camera-bots film Hominid civilian-military personnel sipping coffee, attending meetings, working, and occasionally joking-around. The documentary cuts to exterior-scenes of city life (above the bunker), as well as exterior nature-scenes. Back in the undergroundbunker where the Hominids work, they are shown receiving warning pings, as well as intergalactic synthesized-speech transmissions from SSSk militarycommand, warning of an imminent attack. More outdoor scenes. Then back to stressed-out civilian-military personnel launching city defenses. Hominids in the underground bunker abort their meetings. A small bomb-detonation is hinted-at, but not shown. Then, scenes of the Hominid civilian-military personnel are shown, as they run-down emergency-stairs to go deeper
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November 12, 2011 underground. A much-larger nuclear detonation is hinted at, but not shown. The end.
“Rabbit-evolved dead-children” – These one-hour documentaries show only video-pans of war-killed Rabbit-evolved children (and other war-killed children). The audio is recording-montage of children crying, and occasionally speaking short phrases about the war.
“War migration” – These documentaries cover the plight of Mammaloid people fleeing the war.
“Wild-animal extinction” – These documentaries show wild-animals being hunted-down by Hominoid-allied races on garden/animal planets. Due to threats of lawsuits, Hominoids are NOT shown hunting. Other Hominoidallied races are shown.
“Yokels, and war-abuse” – These documentaries cover the aftermath of the “1850-to-now war” and the “1890-to-1994 war”. According to the documentaries, the intelligent and the wealthy Hominoids abandoned many/most of the Hominoid planets in the war zones. They left behind “yokels”; an equivalently-insulting term is used in the original Cat-evolved language. The yokels can barely farm. They cannot manufacture goods. They acquire manufactured items by looting derelict buildings in a postapocalyptic planet (not necessarily weapons-damaged – just abandoned). The documentaries also cover-and-film war-abuses against Mammaloids, similar to Nazi war-atrocities against the Jews. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazi_concentration_camps, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II)
“Enslaved-Mammaloid video-diaries and interviews” – (Formerly) Enslaved Mammaloids do NOT appear on any of the television news-shows because the Hominoid legal-system will go after them. Consequently, NO enslavedMammaloid video-diaries and interviews are broadcast.
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November 12, 2011 Some video e-book diaries produced by enslaved Mammaloids are available, though they are not broadcast. They are recorded by enslaved Mammaloids, WHILE they are enslaved, using miniature hidden-cameras smuggled to them.
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH ONE-HUNDRED SPARE-YEARS? A petaton bomb takes ten minutes (of our time) to disable. While inside the petatonbomb’s control-center, the SWAT-team spends ONE-HUNDRED YEARS of their time to disable the bomb. This is a time speed-up by a factor of about five-million… a number that might be very-inaccurate. The second-wave of Grey SWAT-team members took e-books with them. The ebooks were loaded with one-million pages of text, mostly in languages that the SWAT-team members didn’t know… just to add to the challenge of reading the onemillion pages of text. Subsequent SWAT-teams have repeated the tradition. One-hundred-and-fifty of the ten-thousand e-books were “disclosure”-documents like mine. Almost all of them were from other planets, most of them written by Hominids. This/my “disclosure”-document was included. (Live-video of my computer-screen is recorded as I type-up this document.)
My document was voted someplace between the thirteenth-best and thirty-second-best “disclosure”-document.
My document was voted as the twenty-fifth funniest “disclosure”document, mainly because it is trying to be funny.
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November 12, 2011 My “disclosure”-document portrays the Reptiloids and Saurians morefavorably than any other of the other one-hundred-and-fifty “disclosure”documents.
The overall-winner of the “disclosure”-documents contest was a twothousand-page graphic novel. It provides little information, but it sells a LOT of copies on its home-planet.
Over their hundred years of boredom, many SWAT-teams (which sometimes included Greys) have combined-and-rewritten all of the “disclosure”-documents, and other war-related documents, into a giant fifty-thousand page e-book, targeted at Hominoid and non-Hominoid leadership. Team-members also produced a shorter five-thousand page e-book, intended for non-leaders. Most-likely, only a few-hundred people on Earth-Sol have read skimmed-through my document. Very few actually believe it. Many-many-more people have read it off-of Earth-Sol. The Hominoid legal-system does NOT like my document, since just-about everything described in the document is “top secret”, and should not be known by any Hominoids, except the very highest-levels the of Hominoid leadership. AND, my document is not abashedly pro-Hominoid. I have become increasingly recalcitrant and unwilling to write-and-distribute this document. I have received stern words from representatives of various non-Hominoid races (including Hominoid races) saying, “This is very important. Seriously. Write it up, or we will think much-less of you if you do not write-up and distribute this information. This affects your future, when you eventually leave Earth-Sol.”
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November 12, 2011
TO BE CONTINUED …
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