Lillian Francken
WE COME IN PEACE
Dedicated to Mr. Pitt,
wherever you are.
CHAPTER 1
The universe, with its infinite mass of solar systems consisting of galaxies filled with stars, clusters, and bright and dark nebulosities in its enormity, is in reality only a lonely, dark abyss. As you scan the far reaches of its vastness, the Milky Way comes into view. With its speckled sphere of planets, moons, asteroids, and stars rotating around a bright G2V star against a hazy dark-blue background, it is a remarkable sight to behold for any space traveler. In the distance, a meteor streak across the far-off distant edge of this solar system like lines in the darkness and then quickly disappears as fast as they once appeared.
Along the edge of one of these nebulas lurked a black hole in clouds of obscure gassy masses, as a spiral disk appearing only as a speck in the distance, flies closer to the dark black hole that lurks still undetected. Suddenly, without warning, the spiral disk gets sucked into the black hole’s enormous vortex. A spiral disk kicks into mach speed as it fights the gravitational pull and finally, like a slingshot, it got thrust out uncontrollably toward the Milky Way.
The spiral disk spins out of control as it shoots past Pluto and narrowly missed the stormy blue planet of Neptune. It almost gained control when the gravitational pull of the greenish-blue planet Uranus grabbed the spiral disk into its orbit. But once again, the spacecraft kicked into overdrive, spun out of control to Saturn, and thrust itself through one of Saturn’s seven rings like a ball being slung around in an arcade pinball machine. Luckily, the ring was less dense, with ice particles. However, not enough for it to leave unscarred. The icy particles coated over the navigational rigging, which caused the spacecraft to fly further out of control.
Luck was with the occupants of the spacecraft. Jupiter and its moons were nowhere in sight. The ice particles slowly dissipated, allowing maneuverability away from Mars, which quickly came into view. Like a pinball machine, the craft quickly maneuvered out of its orbit but not before being hit by a meteor shower, which further damaged the navigational rigging.
Upon closer view of the spacecraft, a silver-foiled box “Fat Sal’s Intergalactic Eatery” was seen stuck under a piece of metal equipment. Off in the distance, the planet Earth speedily came into view. Suddenly the craft veered off towards Earth’s moon. As it approached, the foil box flew off the ship and disappeared into space. The ship slowly descended. Three outriggers extended slowly out of the craft as it approached the moon’s dusty surface.
The plaque left by the visiting Earth astronaut’s years earlier slowly came into view, and as the spacecraft hovered for an instant and then dropped suddenly, it crushed the plaque under one of its outriggers. Another outrigger buried the US flag. Footprints left by the Earth’s astronauts were wiped away for eternity by moon dust from the spacecraft’s outriggers.
Inside the craft two occupants, both in metallic-looking space suits sat behind the controls. Zolar, the female, was at the main controls. She was blonde, with deep-blue intense eyes. Her suit fit her like a glove, showing off a voluptuous body. As the craft came to a jerky halt, Zolar turned and looked at the two-headed space creature suctioned to the inside of the windshield in front of Zolar. Zolar then turned to her companion, Jupel, who worked feverishly on the navigational panel. Jupel, her male junior officer, breathed a sigh of relief. Although they looked like they could be siblings, there were no common genetic codes in their DNA. One had to guess their race all had similar features: the blonde hair, blue eyes, and with a build that was perfect in every aspect. (Unlike the creatures who live on Earth, with different colored eyes and a physique that expanded with what they ate.)
Zolar, in a stern authoritarian voice, snapped, “I told you, you should have let him out back at Samar.”
Jupel turned from the navigational table with a look of relief. His forehead perspired, but he was not intimidated by his senior partner, just looked to the door where Z-42, a solid black canine, scratched urgently.
“He didn’t have to go then,” Jupel said with a little sarcasm.
“Well, get his suit on before he relieves himself. It’s your turn to let him out.”
Jupel reluctantly got up. He walked over to a panel and opened the door. Jupel grabbed two space suits, one for himself and one for Z-42.
Once outside on the Moon’s surface Jupel saw the remnants of footprints left by the astronauts in 1969 as Z-42 ran through them, leaving a dusty trail behind and no record of the Moon’s previous visitors. A voice came sternly across the telecommunicator inside Jupel’s helmet.
“We don’t have all zion,” Zolar snapped.
Jupel mimicked a jabbering old woman, and then his eyes rolled back, and he quickly responded, “He’s trying to find a good spot.”
Just then, Z-42 bounced over a rock near where Jupel was standing. He lifted his leg, and a little trap door opened, and Z-42 relieved himself. Beads of urine floated upward slowly. Jupel was leaning against the craft and could not get out of the way fast enough before the urine splashed him in the visor.
“Oh, no,” Jupel yelled.
“What’s wrong?” Zolar quickly asked.
“Stupid animal took a leak on me.”
“Get back in here. We have a schedule to keep.”
Jupel swung his foot at Z-42, but the dog was already bouncing to the entrance to the craft. Clouds of dust particles floated into space and disappeared slowly.
Once inside the spacecraft, Jupel quickly tossed his space suit into the cleaning closet. Z-42 walked over to Zolar for protection from Jupel, who was still angry. Zolar quickly got up and took out the medical box from the control panel above the console. She prepared a metal cylinder, attaching it to a syringe-like apparatus. Zolar tapped it with her finger, taking out any air bubbles.
“Is it that time already?” Jupel asked.
“We’re past due.” Zolar looked at him with anxiety in her eyes.
Jupel rolled up his sleeve slowly and readied himself for the injection.
“We didn’t die, did we?” Jupel argued.
“Do you want to chance to wait longer?”
“Why doesn’t Z-42 need the stuff?”
“His molecular makeup is different. Now hold steady.”
Zolar injected Jupel with the contents of the cylinder. She quickly injected herself and then closed the medical box, and set it back on the shelf above the control panel. She motioned Jupel to get back into his seat, and she quickly strapped herself into her seat, with her hands and fingers working the virtual board in front of her. The spacecraft slowly came alive.
Outside on the Moon’s surface, the outriggers lifted off. The plaque left by the astronaut’s years earlier was now smashed into little pieces. Also, all that could be seen of the flag was a protruding stick. As the spacecraft slowly rose, the outriggers quickly disappeared into the craft. The spacecraft hovered a moment and then sped off out of the Moon’s atmosphere.
Zolar was at the controls. Through the dash window, Earth speedily came closer into view. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the side panel as she watched Jupel struggling with the folded map.
“I thought they taught you navigational skills at the academy,” Zolar snapped.
“They did.”
“Then get us under control.”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder!”
Zolar maneuvered her hands quickly, working the control panel. Postcards tacked to a metal note board just above her head started to flutter, and a few let loose. The card ‘Wish you were here,’ that was only held in place by a magnet, drifted onto Zolar’s lap. There were also photographs of strange-looking aliens and a 20 percent off voucher from Astral World. One by one, they all started floating around the spacecraft and made it difficult for the two to keep control of the craft.