A note from the author – Dear readers: I write my tales without a plan; No plan of length, word-count, characters, events nor sanity. I start with an incident, a thought or a character and fill in the spaces around the initial words that have grabbed me and dis-allowed me to forget such. I fill in and around such word-images with a suitable environment, any character’s thoughts and actions that might occur in such situations. This type of writing allows a freedom of imagination of movement and actions that alas, my body can no longer give as it ages.
Thus, in my tales, I’m always thinking: “what if?” and, “what would he/she/they see?” and, “how would that make them feel?” and the tale actually writes itself as I and it ‘fly’ along. Sometimes, I think I’m an ‘awake-dreamer’, so powerfully does the urge to create a story come over me, while doing all the menial tasks that are done daily. I am not chasing fame, fortune or an easy life. My fondest hope is that my ancAu [ancient-Australian] people, both young and old, will see that the English language can be used well; for telling ‘faction’ tales; A mix of fact and fiction, which most successful tales use anyway, so that the reader’s mind can grasp and identify with the tale.
Some tales, like the one you are about to read, come out of the blue; In this case, I wasn’t thinking deeply about Aliens, nor such incredible goings-on as you’ll find within; However, in the back of my mind always, is ‘Our’ poor historical treatment of our home planet, its environment, and its many amazing, unique creatures – including humans.
Thus, I give you 16-year old, Jessi Ahn Lightstar, and her tale from the future. I do hope you enjoy it in the spirit intended.
Excerpts from the Diary of Jessi Ahn Lightstar (JAL)
JAL: Dear DD. 26-6-57 [FYI – I call my Dairy, ‘DDD’, coz I read about an incredible woman from many, many, many years ago, who made a fortune from giving advice to people. Her name was Dorothy Dix and the phrase, ‘Dear Dorothy Dix’, became a household phrase. So, I write entries to (DDD), and for me when I’m old and grey. And get-this! She did all this in a Paperback magazine! As if! They musta been quite ignorant back in her day! Anyway, she was famous worldwide and obviously pretty dam smart!]
DDD; this fragment of my ‘posts’ was bigger than a mere diary-entry, tbh; More of a V-unique worldwide Newsflash!
In fact, DDD, later, it reminded me of that ancient movie, “Blazing Saddles”, where an old cowpoke-fellow that spoke with speech-impediment, attempted to tell the early-American, Cowboy-type towns-folk – from his lofty position from a rooftop – that the new Sherriff; Was a ‘G’!
He was yelling at the top of his dry, cracked old voice! “The Sherriff’s a Ni….! But hilariously, every time he called out the final word, the town bell rang and they thought he said; ”The Sherriff’s near!” and thus, the good mostly-white welcome crowd had no idea who was coming to bring Law to their town, until they saw him ride in. On a Palomino horse, with same colour hat, clothes and one very ‘sunburned-Ethiopian’ coloured face…
So DDD, on June 26, 2057, my 16th birthday, ‘We’, [Earthlings] woke, yet wondering if we were all alone in the Space, in which our planet dangles and spins so magically and majestically. Space, that we’d designated various names willy-nilly. Perhaps, to hide the fact that we yet-still, have no valid notion of what Space – or humanity, for that matter – Is! [for mine, anyway DDD!]
The next day, June 27, the previously mentioned speculation perished in the aftershock of a unique, worldwide communiqué. Doubt was crushed by a global memo which if true, instantly cleared up any question of our being alone in the universe. It was said, that a great number of beliefs, superstitions and minds were duly undone at that initial ‘reading’; Broadcast to every nation – in each nation’s language! It was not what was expected of any first-contact encounter! In fact, apart from a veiled threat – it was downright homely! It began thus:
Dear people of Planet Blue (PB), that time has come. Yes! The old I-G (Inter-Galactic), rent-collector is passing by, and guess what! Yes! Bingo! (As you gambling-maniacs say). The ‘rent’ on your planet be due, peeps. A self-contained Star-vac-ship will be visiting PB, to harvest the various materials planted millennia ago: those unique mineral, matter and liquids left to terra-form under PB’s specific gravity and equally rare, environment.
JAL: those of us online at the time supposed it a scam. A great big hacker-joke, courtesy of some Dark-web Pirate, wanna-be famous idjut. But it was quickly discovered to be neither hoax nor scam. For starters, the broadcast overrode every communication format worldwide. Apparently, our best and brightest tried to find the source and stop it; Fruitlessly. The slaps up the head to our anxious communal ego continued:
We – the Nylaxian Alliance – can only believe you have honored the agreement and left said substances mature untouched. Indeed, for your own health as they are toxic to your race’s DNA, if activated… Right! Moving right along! As was predicted by our FUTSCI hive-mind AI, our own humble planet and moon system’s populations, will soon need just these elements to survive.
In any case, BP peeps, it will be simply quite marvelous to see you again. We are of course, especially looking forward to seeing the ‘squillions’ of those beautiful, terra-forming creatures left under your care. As you’d know by now, these diverse creatures, from micro to monster size are each vital for your mutually-beneficial evolution; Including, BP Herself (*Best-Practice, Terraforming: 109e-4hl).
Personally, I would imagine your quick-witted, passive, imaginative race would have created a holistically natural landscape by now. Tbh; we cannot wait to see what you have done with the place!
We should reach PB in a (Galactic) day or two (places to go – planets to see, etc). Please! Do not put on ‘fanfare-stuff’ for our arrival; That you’ve maintained this unique living planet to such a high standard of environmental integrity over the bygone rental period, is quite enough welcome, in and of itself.
As per our MOU, your recompense is the infinite power source that we utilize and, which will drive your technological knowledge into new and exciting futures among the stars; With like-minded beings.
NB!! We have an honoured ‘guest’ aboard ‘SS129-NA-Landlord’. The infinitely infamous Warlord: whose name we cannot say (or pronounce, tbh!), travels with us. ‘It’, would like to ensure each of our treasures are being looked after in line with the terms of the afore-mentioned MOU (such a stickler for the rules. Grumpy old thing – grumpy old race-annihilator as well, unfortunately.
NB: although we have heard rumors of industrial mining, we have faith that our standard – and, incredibly generous terra-forming MOU, has been adhered to and thus, we see no need for you to worry about you-know-who [whom is not a Nylaxian, btw].
Again, so looking forward to a meet with such a forward-thinking, clever race of bipeds that you will have become by now (I mean, y’all got my message after all…
Yours in the Intergalactic Order of all sorts of things, etc., etc.,
Sedirious Rattlebone Snr.,
4474th Scribe/translator/messenger to the Nylaxian- Andromeda Alliance.
JAL: WT-Heck! For the first time since man existed – it seemed to me – we arrogant language-creatures were shocked into global silence, for a good minute or two; Followed by a planet-wide explosion of fight or flight responses. My own skinny legs wanted to pelt off into the distance, while my youthful mind wanted to shut down for an hour or two; or three (days! Tbh)! Several frenetic head-shakes and a slap or two upside my own head later – and like most rational humans – I realized that there was nowhere to run or hide! And, that fighting [As if! Fool!] was probably out of the question, with such technologically-advanced? People? Aliens? Gods? Things?
Oddly, there was no immediate panic in the streets. No drug-fuelled rioting. Supermarkets and stores were left alone. No groups of louts turned cars over and gleefully recorded their fire and fury [at being alive and not knowing why]. It seemed as if our world held a bated breath. Unsurprisingly really! I thought: utter astonished-surprise had taken the breath from any reaction momentarily.
Then our world revolved; Again. On my side from day into night and, although it didn’t seem quite right somehow, time and then we, moved right along with it. Of course, the incredible, mind-blowing message was constantly replayed, deconstructed and re-worked in public, in private, at work, at play, even when the instinctive need to procreate took over: minds were ‘not on the job’, as it were – it was reported.
While various alien ‘experts’ struggled to make sense of the message, the most listened to voice, was that of Australian historian-philosopher and Senator: Blaine Aire-Stuttar. The infamous Sir Wally Keaton’s great-grandson.
Aire-Stuttar rose to fame for suggesting we should take, ‘The Message’ with a ‘pinch of salt’.
“In fact,” he said calmly, believably, “although we have little choice but to believe this ‘out of the blue’ message – we can hardly be blamed for something we didn’t even know of; to enable us to honour some weird ancient contract? However,” he said from behind a 1000-watt grin, “I’m absolutely sure that we can and will, prepare for any eventuality… appropriately,” he said, making it sound like a hint of retaliatory threat. [As-if! Fool!] I thought again.
“Yes,” he concurred, “there are things that we don’t understand: as yet!” he emphasized. “However, the ‘author’ seems to have a fair knowledge of our race and has employed our sense of humour – if a little darkly,” he said, putting on a serious expression. “But in truth, much of the information is a byzantine explanation of our archeological history; That can’t be proved,” he said quietly and calmly, gaining more credit with anxious listeners…
JAL: To our east, across the Pacific in the ‘reformed’ USA – the trillionaire centenarian – POTUS: [that would not leave the Oval Office for love nor money,] was apoplectically, happy. He finally had an enemy that he could hurl all his hi-tech, “beyuteifly-finished!” (his-spelling), very-expensive WoMDs, at:
“Aliyens!” he Tweeted. “Surely to Covfefe I can order their destrukshun without the cry-baby, Greenie, free-Willie mob, screaming blue-murder! The nukes will explode in space! There NOT HUMON! Their not even from Earth!” he miss-spelt. His long-suffering political peers however, along with the rest of the POTUS-weary-world, were ready to see his own, ‘destrukshun’. Preferably, before, he got us all wiped out. The dread ‘Briefcase’, with its big-red-button was subtly removed from his personal space while he was at his private Golf Course. POTUS was told it was being serviced. [*the latter was leaked via Homeland Security-FB]
Over the following weeks, questions our world needed answering raised the young Senator-Prof. Aire-Stuttar to worldwide Star-status. ‘Blaine’ had risen to the challenge, while world leaders changed their pants and caught their respective breath. Before their professional speechwriters could put pen to paper, Blaine was laying it out simply and clearly, in front of an international media, hungry for more of the ‘brave, viral, Senator-Prof.,’ celebrity.
The Senator faced the cameras and microphones with the calm dignity and quiet confidence he was becoming known and respected for, inside The House and out. They say: cometh the time – cometh the man, Blaine thought pleasantly, as his make-up was applied. In his khaki work shorts and shirt, he looked like the quintessential bronzed Aussie, but also a man of science, politics, and of the people: one that was willing to get down and dirty when the need arose. On Inter-vis and ww-fresh-stream, ‘The Message’ was displayed on the big screen behind him. Blaine was on top of the world:
“First, let me say, although this is a surreal situation, I believe the message to be real. Our top scientists, intellectuals, Intelligence people, our Army, Navy and Air Forces, all believe it to be real. And believe me when I say you are not alone in your dumbfound shock and fear. Having said that, I also said that preparation can help us with this threat, and I still believe that,” he said, and then leant toward the camera. “But preparation without skeptical examination is not our way,” he said boldly. “Let’s begin with a subject in the message we can do little about,” he said as ‘the message’ filled the screen.
“What the hell is a Galactic day? For all we know, the ‘galactic’ day spoken of could be a hundred, or a thousand years from now,” he said and paused. “And, though it’s highly unlikely, it could be tomorrow: That’s dependent on when it was sent,” he said openly, regarding the fear in many viewer’s minds.
Blaine looked earnestly into the camera, speaking directly to his audience.
“Look friends, if we’re lucky and it’s not tomorrow, we should probably be halting use of anything we’ve been mining, which we know to be harmful to our DNA. It’s well known that fossil fuels are a long-term carcinogenic danger to us in the forms we need them to power our society; not just uranium,” he stated, and then grinned sheepishly: his entire non-verbal demeanor shouting; Aw shucks folk – I don’t wanna do this, but we hafta, see?
He said, “Look! I do not see we have much choice here. I think we are going to have to, ah? Um? Fib? And pretend the coal, oil, gas and uranium we have available, is only out and ready because we knew all along this was going to happen,” he suggested.
JAL: I sensed our planet was all ears. Here was a possible way out of what seemed like an impossible situation: lie! Onscreen, Blaine unconsciously ‘washed’ his hands’ (I really hoped that wasn’t a Freudian – Pontius Pilate – thing!).
“Next!” he continued, as if giving a lecture to students. “This infamous Warlord! “It”? – A bully-boy with an unmentionable, unpronounceable name? Maybe ‘It’, is Aboriginal,” he joked and grinned stupidly, before continuing.
“This is no doubt a threat, but quite possibly, it’s also a great big bluff!” the Senator challenged. “It’s uh, true, that just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean that someone’s not out to get you,” he said in the same tone. “But as scientists, we know that just because someone says something is true, it doesn’t actually follow that it is prove-ably true,” he said, as a familiar analogy from his grand-father came to mind.
“As we saw with the so-called, ‘Frontier Wars’ here in Australia, which were proven to be a concocted elevation of minor spats along the creeping settlement boundary lines of early Australia,” he said with the bland confidence of cultured ignorance…
JAL: It was at this stage that I began to think that young Mr. Aire-Stuttar, was not as stable as previously thought. I also imagined I heard a long sad sigh escape from listeners worldwide, joining my frustration: the world knew the bare truth since the 2030 national riots. Blaine carried on; blissfully unaware of the effect of his hubris.
“And what of the Earth’s creatures?” he said with a barely hidden sneer. “These ‘squillions’, which we were supposed to care for? Our Bible tells us that we are created above the animals in the scheme of things; that they are indeed there for us!” He had a bible with him and opened it to read what ‘God’ said: “And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it [we certainly did that part quite well!] and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” He read, as if it were an infinitely-wise, ‘Galactic’ commandment of violent death to all creatures, not man.
JAL: Well! Stone the friggin Crows and call me Bobby pinhead Chinaman Harold! Even at my age, I, and most others these days, thought those particular words were written by ‘lazy’ men; To keep them in ‘power’, and in Hunter mode, and being able to show their manliness by physically fighting anyone and everyone – anywhere and anytime. And for women to do the hard work of getting enough decent foods daily to keep everyone healthy. Meanwhile, the men kept hunting and killing the almost-friendly, naïve animals as if they were more able; When in fact, women have always been able to do exactly what men can do – and, most times better, because they work together without gigantic male egos getting in the way! But that’s just me, an half-a-trillion other women come and gone…
But back to Blaire! “Honestly!” he said, sighing mightily for the cameras. “This type of thinking is strangely archaic for a space-going race! Surely? It harks back to the various heathen indigenous races and their ‘blending in with nature’, type existence; Which as we know, never advanced any of the native peoples in the least. It’s a large part of how and why we won their lands. And then showed them how to utilize the untouched riches they were walking on, to build and expand this great country,” he expounded and took a deep, ecstatic breath at his pet passion released live, before continuing.
“As a Scientist, I’m downright frustrated. I find it dammed difficult to believe that such a technologically superior race would ever think the continuing evolution of all creatures, including man, is dependent on every other creature: from microscopic bugs, to mammals! That just cannot be true; Because we have already lost thousands of species that couldn’t keep up with the changing world,” he argued blithely…
JAL: That’s quite enough of his BS blah-blah anyway! Fade to black, Blaine-Witch, bee-atch! [We were told the below info, later; after the unfortunate ‘accidents’]…
“It”; becomes impatient
1.5 million kilometres away from Earth, currently closer to the Earth’s sun than Earth, or ‘PB’, as it was also known apparently – at ‘Lagrange Point #1’: a gravitationally stable space used to flip to and from the local planets in the spiral galaxy of the Milky Way – a voice shouted in panic, as a miniature light-wave vessel tore away from the bulk of the ‘SS129-NA-Landlord’, and sped directly toward PB.
“Oh dear! I was afraid of this!” Sedirious Rattlebone Snr., 474th Scribe, translator and messenger cried, wringing his six large hands together in real angst. “Well, fuck my brown Athort-terious!” he cursed. “Ahr! You stupid ignorant sons of… Ahhr! Now you’ve done it! Oh, fuck It! Oh well! Be It on your own heads then…” SRS murmured stoically, as he watched the tiny green dot on his vis-display eat up the distance between his ship and BP. “we should never have let him watch Earth TV!” he said wistfully, knowing he’d be too late to stop “It” from doing anything It wished. “I should’ve taken that trip to that new Neutron Star; at least I wouldn’t have to control It!” he mumbled and called his 2-IC to the bridge…
JAL: Apparently – we now know – as It arrived at our moon’s orbit, It, was perilously furious! More than furious. The long-term MOU had been made with the indigenous peoples of PB. No-one – including It, had expected the pugnacious, pale-skinned tribes to survive: so casually violent were they; even to their own. Thus, to find that they had not only survived, but had taken over the entire planet, was…
Its thoughts were interrupted by a soft ping sound, that then told It, that a certain ‘someone’ from PB’s surface had fired a lot of missiles at his craft. It grinned, grunted with blunt pleasure and then gave the L-W-intelli-craft’s AI, complete ‘defensive’ control. This should be fun, It mused, as the AI responded to the threat.
Lightning-fast blips of light left the craft, intersecting with the missiles a mere moment later. The missiles slowed, veered into a one-eighty-degree turn and sped off back from whence: disarmed. ‘Its’ craft began to follow, then vanished from our most sophisticated sonar, radar and tracking satellites:
JAL: we were obviously literally, light-years behind this mob…
High above the Pacific Ocean, two further blips of light shot out from the invisible craft. It – swore, the second firing was an accident: that the ship’s AI had misguidedly ascertained two major threats to the MOU and PB’s health and future, and acted accordingly. This time, the quicksilver light blips did cause small but lethal explosions.
JAL: Newsflash! Diary! It seems crabby old ancient POTUS, finally met someone even crankier: someone also indisposed to forgive and forget. POTUS and Blaine Aire-Stuttar, whom assumed re-writing history was all in a day’s fun and, that highly advanced space-faring races would need to bluff, were the recipients of the blips. Both men basically melted, head-first, on live inter-vis.
It strenuously denied involvement. It, stuck to the story that it had handed the Intelli-craft’s AI, complete control – to defend as needed.
JAL: but nobody on Earth, or from his own star-vessel believed it, then, or now…
Thus, DDD, we found we were not alone: that our Earth really was a ‘living’ entity, and us (all), merely Caretakers: That is humanity’s new purpose; our raison d’être (as the French say). We had no choice but to change. We kept many of the comforts the industrial society provided, but they’re all powered with “vac-power” now. Which is, as I understand it: moving photons in an electromagnetic field within a vacuum, from which we can gather the energy created? I’m no scientist or scholar, but holistically, Earth and its entire population has changed, and for the better I reckon.
Without coal, oil, natural gas, lead, uranium and some other rather lethal compounds, our world is beginning to shelve old squabbles. Better yet, we’ve begun to treat all humans, animals and our planet, with real dignified respect. Suicide, mental health issues, family breakdown, drug abuse, civil wars – all have dropped significantly, or in many countries, stopped altogether.
We – well not me, but many of our leaders – met with Sedirious Rattlebone Snr., and his many arms. [FYI – several Politicians whom had railed publicly against the ongoing Race and Gender equity debate, apparently fell down dead at the sight of S.R. Snr., and his many arms]. We all saw the extraordinary ‘SS129-NA-Landlord’, via its own cameras as it ‘parked’ in space. It was majestic, and so large it could only park in space.
It had earned its reputation for being ‘pretty grumpy’, we were told. ‘Though It, seemed to have a soft spot for BP’, Sedirious Rattlebone explained in an aside to Earth’s leaders…
It turned out to be an aged, dark-skinned being with a human-like form that looked pretty much like me – your basic ancAu – Aboriginal Aussie – but of an incredible age. It met only with indigenous elders. It’s longevity, had something to do with the way they travelled the stars, apparently. The final message after their departure, again revealed these space-faring being’s knowledge of our planet and customs; And, that It had quite the old SoH…
“People of Planet Blue. So long, and thanks for all the fishes,” it said with a big smiley face :), with the postscript: “We’ll be ‘black’, lol!”