Read Alien Deception Online

Authors: Tony Ruggiero

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Visionary & Metaphysical, #Fiction

Alien Deception (20 page)

He stood in front of the Council members, slowly making eye contact with each one of them. He wanted to say so many things to them, but he chose to bide his time for a more appropriate setting and under better circumstances. Above all else, he swore that he would not lose his dignity, no matter what this was about.

"Good day, Leader of the Council and Council members," Leumas began with a sarcastic gleam in his eyes. "I apologize for my delay, but there was a slight problem in the Cerebral Alteration Facility."

"Oh, a problem?" Copolla asked, arching his brows and putting his fingers underneath his chin in steeple fashion. "What kind of problem?"

Leumas cleared his throat, and stared directly into Copolla's evil eyes. "Equipment. There was an unexplained surge in the neural input of the memory wipe on the two Earth subjects. It was extremely high."

"What is the status of the subjects?" Copolla asked, with a glimmer in his eyes.

"The subjects from Earth are…" Leumas hesitated as he suddenly realized an opportunity had presented itself. Perhaps he could use Copolla's own presumption to his advantage to buy enough time to allow them to get away.

"Yes, Leumas?" Copolla asked anxiously, wanting to hear Leumas announce his latest catastrophe to the Council, and to him.

Leumas continued in a grave voice, "The two subjects from the planet Earth are alive, but their brains have ceased to function any further. They have no neural activity whatsoever."
Why should Greg and Sarah have to suffer because of Copolla's evil plans?
he thought.
I gave them a vow that I would return both of them unharmed to their homes, and that's what I'm going to do.

Leumas continued, still staring at Copolla, "The overload caused a massive shutdown of all of their neural activity. The overload was caused by a program deviation, which removed all safeguards from the procedure. The program then erased itself."

"That is very unfortunate," Copolla said slowly, secretly applauding himself for his cleverness. He then looked at the Council members, making eye contact for a few seconds until those he looked at turned away from his gaze. His facial expression was saying,
See, I told you so. Leumas is becoming more irresponsible by the moment. Now he is blaming his mistakes on the equipment, of all things.

Copolla stared at Leumas, not outwardly gloating.
I have you, Leumas,
he thought.
I outwitted you with every move. Every step. Now I am going to finish it once and for all.

Copolla offered to the Council, "I personally will look into the equipment malfunction after we have concluded our business here today." He chuckled inwardly, knowing he damn well wouldn't. Then, smiling ruefully, he looked into Leumas’ eyes and said, "I assume, Leumas, that you will see that these Earthlings are treated in accordance with the customs of their home world in these matters."

"I will see to it personally," Leumas responded affirmatively, with compassion.
You bastard,
he said to himself.
You're gloating over the deaths of two innocent humans. Have you no shame?

"The Council and I thank you," Copolla said without feeling, then addressed Leumas in an authoritative voice. "Now, returning to the business for which we have summoned you, Leumas. The Council has decided to give you a chance to redeem yourself, even considering the present circumstances. Through their gracious request, which I endorsed, of course, they have decided to send you to Earth to take control of the situation on the North American continent."

There it is,
Leumas thought.
The final slap in the face.
He was being sent away from the Council so Copolla would be free to do whatever he wanted. Leumas’ anger grew inside but outwardly, he stood straight and tall.

Copolla's voice continued on, wanting so badly to see a reaction from Leumas. "You will use whatever measures necessary to take control of the current political situation and ensure that our interests are represented on Earth."

"I will have to remain on Earth indefinitely?" Leumas asked in a tight-lipped voice.

Copolla smiled, sighing. "I'm afraid so, Leumas. Hopefully, you will be back sometime in the near future, after you have completed your mission. We have confidence in you, Leumas. That, of course, is the main thing. After you return the two humans, you will assume your new duties on Earth."

"But if I stay on Earth permanently, there are only a handful of initial contact agents with any experience available. How will you handle the situations that may occur involving other worlds?" Leumas asked heatedly then cursed himself silently for falling so easily into Copolla's trap. He tried to quell his anger, for he had known this all along. It was the perfect ending to Copolla's plan.

Copolla waved his hand dismissively. "We do not have any current need. When the situation arises, we will resolve it, somehow. We have many initial contact agents in training. Do not worry about that, Leumas. Your new assignment is to take full precedence. Nothing else. Is that c-l-e-a-r?"

"Yes. It is perfectly clear," Leumas said, his fists clenched tightly. "When shall I depart for Earth?"

"Immediately," Copolla said with finality.

 

* * * *

 

"Back to Earth again," Leumas grumbled as he entered orbit around the planet. He had Greg and Sarah in cold stasis as when he had picked them up the first time. He directed the computer to begin the awakening process so that, when he placed them back, they would become coherent at the appropriate time.

He thought about his fate, being condemned to this planet. His frustration had finally simmered down to a boil, instead of the eruptive outbursts during the trip. He vowed to get back to Zire somehow in the very near future and, to that end, had run numerous scenarios through his computer, searching for the one with the best probability of success.

"First things first," he said aloud, trying to clear his head. "I need to get these two returned to the living, as I promised."

Records had to be fixed regarding Greg and Sarah's sudden rejuvenation. It would appear as an unexplained medical occurrence, which he would adeptly document with proper paperwork and a touch of influence on a doctor or nurse here and there to support their sudden reappearance in the world of the living. As luck would have it, they both came from highly populated areas where errors such as this occurred, not on a regular basis, but just often enough to lend credibility. Shifts of personnel who were overworked and underpaid also helped in this explanation of the error. Greg and Sarah would have to remain in their respective hospitals for a while.

"How did they say it?" Leumas asked aloud. "Oh yes, they would be 'under observation.' Another of the oddities these Earth people have in their strange ways of doing medical things."

After the ordeal was over, they would simply return to their Earthly routines and their friends and get on with their lives. Of course, there would be an initial flurry of media attention. "Back among the living" the headline would read, or something like that. But it would all die down in time.

If only I could have convinced them to cooperate,
Leumas thought, shaking his head.
How different their lives would have been, not to mention my own life. I would not be stuck here on Earth, conveniently hidden away while Copolla has free rein on Zire.
He sighed heavily; there was no sense in dwelling on it.
What's done is done, but what happens from here on in, is another story.

 

* * * *

 

Greg sat up in his hospital bed in New Orleans, staring at the food tray that held a gray substance that he supposed was some sort of mystery hospital meat. He felt his stomach roll with disgust. Lying back in bed, he ran his hands through his tousled hair. "I need to get out of here soon. Get some real food. A good burger and a beer." He drooled at the mere thought.

He looked toward the window as thoughts returned of that horrible moment that had put him in the hospital. He remembered the truck and knew it had hit him, but after that he couldn't recall anything except waking up in the hospital. Miraculously enough, all he had were a couple of bruises, and now he was relaxing peacefully in the hospital.

"One hell of a lucky guy I am, I guess," he said aloud, pleased with his fate and all the attention he was getting, especially from all those nice nurses. To think that he had been declared dead for almost an entire day and then found to be alive in the morgue, lying amongst all the corpses. He shivered at the thought and remembered how cold he'd felt when he woke up. Then he had to chuckle at the poor orderly who'd been there when he sat up. It had scared the poor guy so badly that he looked like one of the corpses.

"Now, if I can just fall back to sleep and dream about that babe from the bar, it will round the day off quite nicely," he said. No sooner had the words left his mouth when he felt a strange tingling sensation all over his body, kind of nice, but he also felt…well…almost ashamed for using the word "babe."

"Weird stuff,” he said as he laid back, fluffed the pillows and closed his eyes as he went off in search of the woman of his dreams.

 

* * * *

 

Sarah awoke in a community hospital not far from her office in New York. The nurse told her the story about the mix-up while she took her vital signs.

"Yes, it sure is a strange case," the nurse said, pumping the blood pressure cuff. "I can't imagine anyone being pronounced dead by mistake. They say the equipment was faulty. I guess they're right, but it's still weird stuff."

The nurse suddenly looked at Sarah, appearing embarrassed. "You don't mind me talking about it, do you, sweetie? If you do, I can shut my trap."

Sarah looked up from a daydream she had been having, and said distractedly, "Sorry? Mind? Oh, no, of course not. It was a mistake. That's all. It turned out okay. That's what counts," she said, lying back against her pillow. Her thoughts returned to her work. She wondered if anyone had remembered to turn her report in. She hoped it hadn't been lying on the floor of her office since the accident. It would be late.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Her last thought was an order she gave to her mind.
Okay, this is sleep time, no dreams about hanging out in bars, talking to strangers. Got it? Last time you did that you ended up trying to fry yourself.

Then the strangest thought entered her mind, and a tingling sensation warmed her body. The warmth felt so good, almost too good and she blushed with the association it immediately brought to her. Still, she smiled at the feeling, and her voice spoke in her mind as she closed her eyes to sleep.

He's not a stranger anymore—remember?

 

* * * *

 

"The political climate in this country is shaky at best," Leumas said aloud as he scanned through the reports his onboard computer had prepared for his review. His main point of interest: the United States of America.

"The possibility of a third party will not be taken seriously while the domination of the two major parties continues to exist," he said as he continued to read the reports.

He determined that his plan would have to begin with an event that would affect the standing of both the United States, the leading Earth power, and its current established political parties. Something that would discredit or hurt their images and thereby allowing the smooth entry of a third party.

He read articles that dealt with the constant party squabbling over who was doing what to whom and how. It seemed the parties had only their own interests at heart, and not that of the people they supposedly represented. Both parties were distinctly different, and represented a variety of opposing views on many social and economic issues. Perhaps these differences were the dividing factor. The parties survived based upon their ability to disagree on the major issues.

"What if the parties joined together?" he asked. "If their existence depended upon their separate and very distinct preambles, would the humans who supported them turn away if it appeared that the two parties had joined forces? Would the people feel betrayed? Would they look elsewhere? Hmm…this may possess some good possibilities," he said, inputting his hypothesis into the computer.

He tapped his fingers on the shiny display console, angling his head to catch a look at his hair in the reflection as the computer silently digested and dissected the raw data. He continued to tap his fingers, impatient for the computer's mathematical response. The computer voice announced its answer and flashed it in green neon words on the screen, "Chances of success are sixty-five percent."

"Not bad odds," he said. "Still seven months to go before the big election. There may be just enough time."

He had already determined from his reading that the best way to communicate something to the masses of this planet was through their medium of journalism. He knew instantly that they existed—no
, thrived
on sensationalism. Only the bizarre, horrific or stories reeking of intrigue grabbed their interests. Truth or falsehood was not the key, but just who actually printed it or announced it to the world first and, if they distorted the facts to make things more interesting, all the better. Moreover, if they were wrong, they could simply retract the information later quietly. However, that would be done only after the monetary or rating points system they used for their visual stimulation was gained.

He voiced the headlines he imagined: "Parties Unite! Common Goals?" Or "The End of Differences, Have We Come This Far?" Or even better, "Parties In Bed Together. What Strange Bedfellows!"

It would begin the stir, the unsettling rumble in the bellies of the humans and their politics. They would wonder where and when it had happened. Two parties who historically were divided since their conception and whose differences kept the United States divided, finally unite.

The press would conveniently supply the answers to these questions for all of this powerful country to see and hear. There would be disclosures of secret meetings, and strange retreats to the mountains, all done secretly. They would all occur behind closed doors, in dark, smoke-filled rooms.

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