The Alien's Reward

By Jim Ricca

Do you think UFOs and ETs only make their presence known to that class of beer swilling, pick-up truck driving people of questionable intelligence and veracity that mainly reside below the Mason-Dixon Line?
A highly educated engineer, who believed only in what he could hold, measure and quantify, thought just that until one fateful morning when he decided to aide a few strangers who came knocking at his door.

If you’ve been searching for a truly engaging science fiction story written for non-nerds, that foregoes the weird religions, strange, unpronounceable languages and endless lines of meaningless techno-babble, then hop aboard for a down to earth, but highly exciting, exceptionally humorous and fast moving adventure with The Aliens Reward. This is one story where the visitors from space are just as crazy as any humans, and aren’t portrayed as invincible, all-knowing demi-gods, grotesque monsters or beings with supernatural powers. And, you’ll discover that they don’t have all the answers, although they do have plenty of questions, and present some unique problems, along with incredible acts of heroism, loyalty and courage.

Discover how one non-believing man’s decision changes not only his world, but the fate of our entire planet, forever...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Ricca
• Release date: Dec 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301963621

Jim Ricca

Jim was born and raised in Philadelphia, and lived there until drafted into the Army in 1971. He served a total of 18 years between the active Army and reserves as a Military Policeman, Artillery forward observer and in the Mechanized Infantry. He attended college on the GI bill and earned a B.A. in Political Science, International Relations from LaSalle University. He held middle and senior level management positions in the transportation, printing/publishing industries and plastics manufacturing field. Jim also served several years as a Special Agent/Special Investigator for a Federal agency. Jim is the author of the four book, Circle of Wounded Souls series, in addition to, Legacies; an American Journey, Hunting and Hunted in Alaska, The four book Alien's Reward series with Journey to Another Earth. In addition to, Der Schatten Teufel, The Shadow Devil, and Running Down Terror has been released along with: The Replacement Priest, and Escape from the Asylum. Jim resides in Maryland's Eastern Shore where he divides his time between writing and fishing the Chesapeake Bay and surf fishing along the shore..

Book preview

The Alien's

Reward

Discovery

By

Jim Ricca

Copyright 2013 Jim Ricca

Revised 2020

This book and e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book and e-book may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Discover other titles by Jim Ricca

The Alien's Reward II The Alliance

The Alien’s Reward III: Insurrection

Journey to Another Earth

The Circle of Wounded Souls: The Beginning, Book One

The Circle of Wounded Souls: Vietnam, Book Two

The Circle of Wounded Souls, The Circle of Survivors, Book Three

The Circle of Wounded Souls, The Broken Circle Book Four

Legacies: an American Journey

Der Schatten Teufel: The Shadow Devil

Kathryn’s Summer

The Replacement Priests

Alaskan Paybacks: Hunter and Hunted

Running Down Terror

Escape from the Asylum

Preface

I must admit; I seriously doubted the existence of UFOs and the E.T.s piloting them. But one fateful morning, my smug self-assurance of their non-existence was shattered and the world as I knew it was changed forever.

As the old saying goes; no good deed goes unpunished, and my willingness to help a couple of strangers led to an incredible chain of events with unbelievable consequences, not only for myself, but also for our entire planet.

Hollywood has it all wrong! Aliens; at least the ones I first met, are not multi-clawed, man eating and world destroying beasts; nor are they super intelligent, God-like beings sent here to warn us of our imminent destruction. Most look just like us and are actually as wild and crazy as anyone you’d find in a college dorm or Infantry company. Others who came later, were as evil and cruel as any Nazi SS concentration camp commandant, and worse.

I discovered that many, like the biblical Jews who followed Moses for forty long years, are on a generations-long quest to find a new home after theirs was destroyed by celestial events beyond their control. Some find planets where they are welcome and settle in with the inhabitants, while others seek only to slaughter, conquer and destroy.

Sit back, put your beliefs on hold and take a journey with me through a series of fantastic events in the following pages.

CHAPTER ONE

Just to set the record straight; I do not use a pick-up truck as my primary means of transportation, chew tobacco, dip snuff, do drugs, listen to country western music, drink beer daily, or live in a trailer. In addition, I think George W. Bush and Donald trump are the worst presidents we’ve ever had. I never listen to those bigoted, right-wing idiots on talk radio.

I’ve earned several college degrees from a prestigious Eastern university, drive an imported luxury-sports car, hold an executive management position with a nationwide company, and don’t wear baseball caps unless I’m actually playing ball or working at something and need to keep my hair clean.

Up until a week ago, I firmly believed UFOs and extra-terrestrials were no more than vivid, alcohol or drug induced hallucinations. These pathetic delusions: born in weakened minds of the unfortunate few, are probably suffering the aftereffects of brain damage from an earlier head trauma. And sadly, their brain injuries have recently begun manifesting in their adult years.

So much for my history, lifestyle, beliefs, and theories.

At the current moment, I’m surrounded by twenty or more, very angry and heavily armed Mexican drug cartel members. They are all extremely concerned with how I was able to gain access to their drug warehouse, where I was recently discovered after dousing their merchandise with gasoline, and about to set their huge cache on fire with a flare.

My Spanish is a little rusty, but the obvious leader of the banditos was making it very clear he wanted me to hand him the flare before it ignited a conflagration which would produce enough smoke to get the entire city of Tijuana high for a month.

I turned the flare around to hand it to him by the unlit end then waved him closer to me. As I said before, I was completely surrounded, but after a quick glance around at my executioners, it was obvious the narco-trafficantes had set up a perfect, Polish circular firing squad.

The head honcho slowly approached me, his eyes burning with hatred and fear as he held his hand out for the flare. With my free hand, I felt for the buttons on the right sleeve of my jacket.

The men were screaming to put my hands up, but I needed to press the third blinking button up from the end of the sleeve, once, twice, and then for a third time.

Adios mother-fuckers!

The Mexicans were temporarily blinded by a flash of light, very similar to the flashbulb of a camera as I disappeared from view. The brilliant flash was enough to startle the men into squeezing the triggers on their automatic rifles.

Not only did they shoot each other and their honcho, but their muzzle flashes were enough to ignite the tons of gasoline-soaked cocaine and wacky weed. By the time the first few pieces of their expended brass hit the floor of the warehouse, I was about a mile away, enjoying the spectacle of the tremendous explosion which blew the corrugated metal roof at least 200 feet into the air.

One more depression of the return button and I was back in the pilot’s seat of my new aircraft and on my way home; safe and sound but stinking of gasoline.

I carefully removed the jacket given me by my new friends from another planet only a week ago and hung it out on the deck to air out. I immediately went to the bathroom for a hot shower and then to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Three weeks prior to my meeting with the Mexican drug smugglers, I was on my way home after a long day at work. The sun was just touching the western horizon as I turned down my driveway, and as I got out of the car to pick up my mail, I heard a loud chugging sound pass quickly overhead. It sounded like a very cold diesel starting, and when I looked up, I just caught sight of a strange aircraft flashing by, not more than 50 feet above me.

I first thought the military was about to lose one of their new, exotic unmanned surveillance aircraft, or someone was testing a homebuilt aircraft and had lost control of it. I just hoped they wouldn’t crash into my house or barn. I climbed back in the car, and slowly drove down my half-mile long driveway, keeping an eye open for smoke, fire or wreckage in the woods to either side of the drive. After parking the car in front of the house, I climbed the steps to the front porch, scanned the immediate area for signs of the aircraft and since none were evident, went inside, locked the door and began preparing a light dinner.

I considered myself lucky to still be single at 45 years of age, holding down a good paying job as an electrochemical engineer, and V.P. of research and development for a hi-tech fuel cell manufacturer. It paid well enough for me to live on 150 secluded, wooded acres in the Allegheny Mountains of central Pennsylvania. I bought the land at a sheriff’s sale, and had a pre-fab, 3-bedroom, raised rancher built on one cleared acre, dead center in the middle of my property.

On the opposite side of the driveway, my pride and joy, an 80 by 60-foot pole barn sat on a six-inch-thick concrete slab. The barn had hot and cold running water, a full bath, heat, and every imaginable woodworking and automotive tool a single man could use. Of course, it was all powered by my company’s fuel cells, in addition to solar cells on the roof, a couple small windmills and a water turbine I installed in the creek that ran near the house.

Self-sufficient, except for food, but even there, I kept myself supplied with antlered meat from the woods, and grew some of the veggies I ate, but there were some things I still needed to buy.

Once finished eating, I tossed the paper plates in the wood burner, and then went to check on my e-mail. Spam, spam and more spam, so I shut the puter down and turned on the TV. Since it was Friday night, there wasn’t much on the tube, despite having access to over 200 channels. Before turning off the TV and heading for bed, I flipped on the news and was horrified to learn Mexican drug lords had murdered 70-plus, poor Central Americans, who were trying to sneak into the United States, and half-buried them in a mass grave. The announcer then went into an extended account of the all-out war that erupted in northern Mexico. The drug cartels were not only killing each other, but now they were also slaughtering thousands of innocent men, women and children, journalists, and policemen. Sickened by the thought those murdering bastards were being funded by American stoners, I turned off the tube, took a hot shower then hit the rack. It was almost 10 pm and I wanted to get up early Saturday morning to finish the second floor of my workshop.

Saturday morning broke clear, crisp, and slightly windy. Perfect weather for spraying insulation in the ceiling and walls of the barn’s second floor, where I’d built an office, a second full bathroom and an ammo reloading area.

While disposing the breakfast dishes, there was a soft knock at the kitchen door. I was more than a bit surprised to have anyone knock on this door, since I rarely receive visitors. And the few I did receive went directly to the front door, where I had a doorbell, and a big brass knocker.

A quick glance at the closed-circuit TV monitor revealed three men, approximately five feet six-inches tall, on the skinny side and all wearing what looked like identical winter vests, sweatshirts, pants and running shoes. I didn’t see any weapons on them, and their hands were empty, so they must have gone trekking through the state game lands surrounding my property and gotten lost.

Can I help you? I asked as they looked up at me, seeming somewhat frightened by my six-foot, one-inch height and 220 pounds.

My visitors appeared to be relatively young Asians, with typical Asian facial features, except their noses were quite small, even for Asians. They also had smaller than normal ears, and most strangely, they all had thin white hair. But what really struck me as odd, were their very pale complexions, and almost translucent skin.

We just stared at each other for the longest time, before I asked again, Can I help you?

The man closest to me held out his trembling hand. As I shook it, he replied in a warbling, high-pitched voice. Thank you for your offer of help. My friends and I have experienced difficulties with our vehicle and seek assistance in completing repairs so we may continue our journey.

Please come in and have a seat. I waved them into the kitchen and watched as they each carefully looked around the room then sat, placed their hands on the table, glanced back and forth at each other as I poured myself another cup of coffee then asked if they’d like one too.

They politely refused the coffee but asked if I could spare some water. After pouring each man a tall glass of cold well water, I sat and asked where their vehicle was and what kind of difficulties, they had with it. Before they could answer, I apologized for my poor manners and introduced myself. I’m Ralph Butler; I own this house and the woods around it.

The same stranger, who thanked me, took my hand again and replied, I am Kazo Mazippi, and these are my friends Myan Orgo and Deemy Tsatsa. Our vehicle experienced an almost total loss of power, but we were able to bring it to a safe stop without damaging it. It is currently on the edge of the field east of your location, and we request the use of some tools to conduct repairs.

I hadn’t noticed any tire tracks running through my field last night, or this morning as I was getting dressed in front of my bedroom window. There was no way they could have come through the woods on anything other than a dirt bike. I never heard the aggravating buzz of a two-stroke dirt bike or the sound of any other off-road vehicle since I arrived home last night.

When did your vehicle break down, I asked, concerned someone may have been cutting a road through my property during the day while I was at work.

He stared at me for a long time before I noticed his eyes weren’t brown as I originally thought; they were a dark gold color as were his friends. I began to grow a little nervous and did a quick estimate of how long it would take me to reach my 12-gauge and blast these strange people if they started trouble.

We lost power last night as we were passing by your structures.

Let’s go out and take a look at your vehicle and see if we can determine what tools you’ll need to fix it. I have a strong mechanical background, and my shop is equipped to fix almost anything that can go wrong with almost any car.

There is no need for you to interrupt your daily routine, Ralph, the man said quickly, If you would be kind enough to show us your tool inventory, we can select what we need to complete our repairs and then resume our journey.

I glanced out the window and saw clouds gathering on the horizon, confirming the weatherman’s prediction of a significant snowstorm this afternoon.

I think you’d be better off if you allow me to tow your vehicle into my barn, so we can work on it where it will be warm and comfortable. We’re due for a good snowstorm this afternoon and it’s predicted to last well into Monday.

Kazo’s eyes widened as he whispered, Snow?

Yes, snow, I responded. You know that frozen white stuff that falls from the sky and coats everything until it’s a foot deep? I was joking with him, but he really seemed shocked at the prospect of snow falling on him and his vehicle.

He quickly turned to his friends, rapidly exchanged words in a language I’d never heard, before they excitedly ran to the window, stared at the gathering clouds then turned back to me and asked in unison, Do you have a means to move our vehicle into your other structure?

Thirty minutes later, I was driving my four-wheel drive tow truck across the field, following the pointing finger of Kazo, while his friends inspected the beat-up interior of my old junkyard dog.

Kazo had me stop short of the edge of the woods then advised me to turn the truck around but remain in the cab while he and his friends ran the tow line to his vehicle.

I had to get out to release the tow cable, then after watching all three men struggle to pull it off the reel, I grabbed the hook, and walked it back into the woods about 150 feet, where Kazo stopped me. He said I should go back to the truck. He’d call me when it was time for me to operate the winch. After glancing around, I was unable to see anything that looked like a vehicle, so I shrugged my shoulders and went back to the winch lever on the rear of the dog.

There was quite a bit of chattering coming from the woods. They sounded like a group of very loud chickadees as they shouted to each other, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I thought for just a moment, these guys might be three hapless ETs who required my help to fix their broken-down UFO.

Myan was suddenly by my side and indicated I should take the slack out of the tow line.

I bent down to switch the lever to take-up, but when I turned to Myan to ask how tight I should make the line, he was already gone. Using just the slightest pressure on the operating lever, I was slowly taking up the slack when Kazo suddenly tapped me on the back and said to stop for a moment.

I pulled the lever into neutral then asked, Where exactly is your vehicle? I don’t see any tire tracks leading into woods.

But Kazo too had suddenly split, leaving me to talk to myself. Just as I was about to walk back to see what they were doing, Myan appeared again, asked me to start reeling in the towline, but slowly.

The heavy-duty winch mounted on the dog was rated to pull 25,000 pounds from a dead stop. I’d used it to yank stumps out of the ground, move boulders and of course, remove abandoned cars from my property. But whatever it was pulling on the other end required almost no effort. As a matter of fact, I had to pull resistance on the line to keep it coiling properly around the take-up drum. It felt like it wasn’t pulling anything, and just to check, I grabbed the line and gave it a pull, only to have the line freely move toward me.

Myan instantly placed his hand on my arm and remarked, Please do not pull the line at this time. Stop the winch! We need to discuss an important matter with you before we proceed.

Kazo was suddenly standing next to me as I placed the winch control in stop. The son of a bitch had an aggravating way of sneaking up on me and I swore the next time he did it, I was going to grab him and tie a bell around his neck. A bit perturbed at the way they were able to move around so quietly, I remarked, You guys are running around here like a one-legged man at an ass kicking contest.

Our friend, please be attentive to our needs at this time, Kazo stated as he stared into my eyes. We are allowing you to observe and possibly assist us in performing repairs to our craft. We must require you to maintain absolute secrecy and discretion concerning all you are about to observe. May I have your assurance you will strictly adhere to our request?

This is a strange way for someone to ask me to keep my mouth shut. So far, they hadn’t done or shown me anything I’d care to comment on later. I won’t tell a soul, my friend. Your secret is safe with me.

Myan suddenly touched the side of my head with a short metallic wand attached to a box about the size of a cell phone. He then turned to Kazo and squeaked something.

We can trust you to keep your word, Kazo stated, You are an honorable man, and we shall reward you accordingly.

What the hell was so damn secretive about their damn Vehicle was beyond me, but I was true to my word. I think we’d better get your car into the garage as quickly as possible, because it’s going to start snowing any minute now.

When I looked to where the tow line disappeared into the woods, I saw Myan and Deemy standing at the edge of the field, and each was holding a rope tied to something…about…ten feet in the air. The rope appeared to be tied to…nothing and was just hanging in mid-air.

I looked down at Kazo and tried to ask the two most obvious questions.

What the…? Where the…?

He replied to my incomplete questions, Once we are inside your repair structure, all shall be revealed to you.

I stared at the spot where the ropes were suspended in mid-air and noticed the trees between the ropes appeared somewhat strange. It seemed as if I was looking at them through very old, depression-era panes of glass, which made everything look distorted and irregular. As the tow line drew their vehicle closer, objects beyond it undulated, twisted, and warped somewhat, but once the two tag lines were about 20 feet from the truck, Kazo had me shut off the winch before he and his friends pulled their lines down, and then clambered onto something I couldn’t see.

Being an infantry and military police veteran, possessing a full understanding of the concept that discretion was the better part of valor, my legs began to paw the earth like a bull ready to charge a toreador, intent on running in the opposite direction as fast as I could.

Deemy and Kazo knelt, fiddled with something, climbed into whatever it was they were standing on, and disappeared. Myan held up his hand for me to remain in place for a moment then he waved and pointed toward the barn.

My brain was screaming at full volume, but it couldn’t decide if what I was observing was a result of last nights left-over pizza, too many hours at work, or if my car or wood stove had an exhaust leak.

My eyes had never lied to me before and I was positive I had crawled out of bed this morning, taken a hot shower, and had breakfast with two cups of coffee. Sure, I wasn’t experiencing a vivid dream, and besides, my dreams never concerned things that didn’t exist, such as UFOs and aliens or invisible spacecraft and white-haired Asians. My mind sought escape in dreams concerning the kind of equipment our new receptionist had under her baggy sweaters or retiring to the coast of Chile where there were still enough big game fish to keep me happy until I died.

Myan was again beside me, tugging on my arm as he requested, Move your vehicle to your repair structure, open the doors and we will immediately move our vehicle inside.

He gently pushed me toward the cab of the truck, opened the door for me then stood back as I put it in gear and slowly eased out the clutch. I had the dog in first gear and four-wheel drive, but it didn’t feel like it was pulling anything, and after glancing at the rear-view mirror, I saw the loose ends of tag lines were dangling about three feet off the ground.

It must be hooked to a clear plastic balloon or something, I mumbled to myself and fought back the urge to nail the gas pedal to the floor and speed-shift myself out of the area.

Stop here, and open the structure doors, please, Kazo requested a split second after he suddenly appeared alongside my door.

My legs were so unsteady, I had to lean against the barn door to keep from falling as I unlocked the big deadbolt, slid the left side door open as far as it would go, then slid the opposite door fully open.

The three men took one look at the opening and asked if I could make the opening higher.

The door is 30 feet wide and 14 feet high, I replied. How much more room do you need to fit your vehicle inside?

Kazo pointed to a spot just above the second-floor window, a good eighteen feet high, and four feet above the opening.

The barn was constructed of corrugated steel panels and held together with nuts and bolts. It was erected and could be taken down using only an air or electric powered impact wrench equipped with a 5/8-inch socket. Before I could figure out how to start removing the panels and underlying supports, Deemy walked up to the front of the barn carrying what looked like an elaborate insecticide fogger.

He sat his machine on a tripod, sighted it through a scope and after making several sweeping motions with it across the barn, he stood upright, hit a red button on the side of the control panel, and the entire front of the barn separated from the main structure, exposing both the ground and second floors. He turned the machine slowly, and as he did so, the entire front end of the barn slowly floated to the left, until there was enough room for Kazo and Myan to guide their invisible vehicle into the barn.

It took a few minutes for the men to relocate my tools and projects out of their way as I stood in the middle of my driveway, unable to do more than tremble like a leaf on a breeze. Once they were satisfied all was in position, Kazo signaled to Deemy, who immediately swung the front of the barn back into place, punched several buttons and then walked to the barn, pushed, and pulled on it several times to assure himself it was solidly in place. He then picked up his machine, walked inside and waved for me to follow.

While completely unable to do more than drool on my jacket, Deemy came out, grabbed me by the arm and gently led me inside the barn. The building was dark, so I staggered over to the light switches, flipped them all to the on position then stared at the big optical illusion floating just above the floor.

Kazo stood next to me while Deemy and Myan climbed into invisibility.

Ralph, this is our vehicle and if we are able to discover the problem with the power source, we will depart your structure in a very short period of time. Just as he finished his statement, there was a loud SNAP, followed immediately by three distinct crunches, which sounded like something heavy hitting the cement floor. A second later, the illusion shimmered into a very solid looking black aircraft that strained my very sanity.

It was solid black and appeared to be a version of the SR-71 Blackbird; except the fuselage forward of the wings was much shorter and about three times thicker. The wings, from about halfway out from the fuselage were folded up like a carrier plane’s and at the point where they folded, there were two long, thick sponsons, very similar to a speed boats. It had no vertical tail, exhaust ports or air intakes.

I then noticed the distinct acrid aromas of burnt electrical insulation and ozone. I felt an almost overwhelming sense of power emanating from the craft as I reached out and touched the edge of its wing.

Turning to Kazo, I placed my hand on his shoulder and asked, OK, now why don’t you tell me who you are, where you’re from, how you got here and what do you intend to do?

My friend, we are from a solar system more than 500 light years from your planet. We called our planet, Blue World in your language, and much like your planet, it was covered in water and appeared blue from space. We are a scout ship, sent to re-investigate your planet by our mothership to determine if this planet will support us.

Myan stepped up and continued for his partner. Our home world was destroyed almost 600 years ago in your time, when our solar system collided with another solar system. We had sufficient warning of this event to evacuate everyone from our planet and begin a search for a new home.

We built hundreds of mother ships, and many thousands more scout ships like this one, Kazo stated. Each mother ship was assigned to travel in a different direction to discover its own home world. Ours was directed toward your solar system and beyond. We found many planets with similar characteristics as our own, but like yours, they many had one or more serious negative factors which caused us to bypass them. Others would not support the entire population of the mother ship, so we deposited only a portion of our people on each to colonize.

I had to hold my hand up for them to stop for a second. How many people are on your mother ship?

Kazo gave me what appeared to be a smile and replied, We have approximately 500,000 remaining of the five million who boarded the ship.

What happened to the others?

Some were dropped off in small groups at planets that could support them, others died, new people were born, and they in turn died, too. I estimate we resettled at least 3.5 million of our people on various planets, and the rest we lost through normal life cycles and low birth rates.

Are you going to resettle your people here?

No, my friend; your planet is overpopulated, much too polluted with your wastes, and the populace extremely violent. Myan replied, as he held his hand out for me to watch as his ship opened numerous panels to expose its machinery.

When a panel opened on the very rear of the ship, I noticed a small, but faint wisp of smoke curling up to the ceiling of the shop.

It looks like the problem may be right there, I said and pointed to the small tendril of smoke wafted upwards.

They saw what I was pointing at, and the three men immediately appeared on the wing.

How in the hell did you do that? I shouted, grabbed a ladder, and placed it on the trailing edge of the ship.

Myan pointed to his vest and held it out for me for a closer look. These activators or buttons as you call them, allow us to travel from one point to another without hesitation or expended effort. It is extremely efficient and allows us to complete much more than if we had to travel on foot.

How are they powered?

You sun provides sufficient ultraviolet energy, along with ample neutrinos and other elements your scientists have yet to discover and learn to harness.

Kazo called me down from the ladder and asked how to operate my computer. His on-board intelligence system, as he called it, would not operate with the ship’s power turned off and he needed to learn our names for certain materials needed to repair his ship.

I turned it on, logged in and asked what he was looking for. Kazo merely blinked at me for a few moments then pulled a length of thin, flat cord from his vest, fed it into a USB port and watched as the screen began flipping through thousands of pages of data so quickly, I couldn’t begin to figure out what he was looking for.

Once on the wing with Myan again, he pointed to several brilliant red tubes running inside the length of the wings and terminated at large blue boxes at the front and rear of the fuselage. He then pointed to smaller blue boxes just inside the wingtips, explaining the red tubes contained magnets that sensed the polarity of the planet, matched or opposed it and then used the planets own magnetic field to levitate the ship. The blue boxes contained thrusting and drawing magnets, used to propel the ship.

Deemy called out in his chickadee voice to Deemy. After a brief exchange, Myan crawled inside the wing to examine whatever Deemy discovered.

While they were busy chattering away, I wandered along the length of the ship and saw the center of the fuselage was packed full of what must be their power supply. They looked somewhat similar to my own fuel cells, except they were much larger and encased in a clear material that felt like steel but was as clear as glass.

There was an open hatch just forward of the wing roots and after a moment’s hesitation, I climbed down into a small room containing four bunkbeds, numerous wall mounted cabinets and a toilet. I had to laugh at the thought that ETs, those mystical beings of science fiction, would occasionally have to stop to take a shit and a leak. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember a single science fiction movie where you saw an alien squatting to pinch off a loaf of yesterday’s lunch.

Eat shit and die, George Lucas, I laughed and continued through the crew quarters, into the mess area and then to the cockpit.

The cockpit/command center was simple enough. There were four seats, each mounted to the floor behind four consoles, with one forward, which I assumed to be the pilot’s seat. There were two seats slightly behind and to either side of the pilot’s seat and the fourth slightly behind and centered between the second row.

The windscreen gave a good view outside the ship, but only to the direct front and ninety degrees to either side. I was tempted to check out the seats, but it was obvious I’d never fit, and who the hell knew what would happen if I did sit on one. I only met three people, not four and wondered if they have someone stashed out in the woods or they were working as a three-man crew.

Do you like our ship, Ralph? Kazo asked as he walked up to the commander’s seat, sat, and pointed for me to sit in the one to his right. He hit a switch on the console and my seat slid back to give ample room to stretch my legs.

I notice you have four positions but only three men here.

Our weapons officer was left behind on the mother ship to conserve food. I didn’t think your military could detect us, let alone engage us with their weapons. If they did, I’d just use our speed to outrun them before they could do any damage.

Did Deemy and Myan find the problem with your ship?

They think we were struck by debris from an old satellite your planet launched, and it hit at just the very spot where we are weakest. It penetrated our hull through a heat vent and impacted a power supply line to our directional drive motors. Then our flight control systems detected a problem and shut down the entire power supply to prevent an explosion.

That’s a real bummer, Kazo. Is there anything I can do to help repair it?

I am trying to reach our mother ship to request another scout ship with a replacement part. If I can reach them and they have the part, it should be here by the time your sun rises again and we’ll continue our journey a short time later.

You know, I really hate to see you go so soon. I remarked and watched him work his communications console. You guys are very impressive, and I think you can teach me a lot about power generation and how I can help save this planet’s resources, plus reduce our pollution.

Kazo turned back to me after chirping away on his radio and said, I cannot communicate with our mother ship. We will have to fabricate the part we need and hope it will hold together until we get back to our mother ship. And in reply to your statement, we can only teach you so much, as our mission is to investigate planets for habitability, not educate their populations, especially one as violent as yours.

I understand, Kazo and I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. But I did notice your fuel cells are very similar to the ones my company manufactures.

Kazo spun around and gasped, I need to inspect one of your fuel cells to see if it is compatible with our system. We have several near failure, and with no way to quickly manufacture more on the mother ship, you may be of great service to us.

As we were walking out to the shed where the fuel cells were maintained, Myan handed Kazo a burnt and partially melted wire harness. This is what we need, Kazo.

Myan asked if I thought we could make one here.

Do you have an undamaged one for me to use as a model? And I need to know what the components are constructed of so I’ll use the right metals, in addition to handling the amount of voltage it will carry.

Myan pulled an identical part from the opposite side of the craft, as Kazo and I walked through the falling snow to the utility shed.

He was impressed with the quality and construction of the cells, but sadly stated they were totally inadequate for his needs. His cells, even the damaged ones, put out at least 1,000 times the power of our largest and most advanced models. His were made with a substance that might be a rare-earth element. This meant manufacturing them using the rare-earth metals would be prohibitively expensive. However, if I just added a small amount to our membrane alloy, it would be enough to boost output significantly. Kazo confided he’d have more than enough power to get back to his mother ship if we could repair or replace the wiring harness.

On our way back to the barn, a huge buck and several of his does wandered out into the remains of my veggie garden. Kazo saw the deer and immediately walked over to them, chirping away as if he was communicating with them. The buck watched him as he approached but didn’t raise the alarm for his harem. Kazo walked to within a few feet of the deer and continued his one-sided discussion with the venison until the buck got bored and walked back into the woods.

What was that all about, Kazo?

Deemy spoke with him last night, asking if he could render some assistance, but he was unsure of his answer. So, I wanted to let him know we no longer needed his assistance.

Kazo, have you ever been to this planet before?

No, this is my first and last visit, but others have come here before.

I can understand how a stranger would attempt to communicate with as many species as possible before determining which one is the most intelligent, but you and Deemy were trying to communicate with a food source. Didn’t you notice the animal never replied to your questions?

Kazo was somewhat startled by my statement. He pointed at the remaining doe and gasped, You eat those creatures?

Yes, of course we eat them, my friend. We’re carnivores and most humans eat meat in one form or another. However, a few make a conscious decision to eat only flora and forgo consuming the planet’s fauna. I hesitated a moment and asked, What do you eat?

Kazo took a while to form his answer. He needed to explain how his people had stored food aboard their ships, in addition to installing equipment to manufacture more so they’d have a variety in their diets. He went on to describe how they genetically modified bacteria to produce certain foods on a continuous basis.

Back in the barn, Deemy and Myan had pulled a second, undamaged harness from the ship. After a careful inspection, I determined the wiring was an aluminum alloy, which is not an efficient conductor. The harness connectors and housings were ceramic. I could replace the wiring with copper, but the housings and connectors would be impossible to duplicate, as my plant had no equipment to fabricate ceramics.

Kazo, I need to know how much heat the connectors and housings must withstand and how much voltage. Plus, I need to see where and how they fit into the power supply.

He led me into the space inside the wings and pointed out where the harness was fitted onto couplings in the gravity tubes. The tubes contained huge coils of aluminum-ceramic wires, and were essentially electro-magnets with reversible polarity, along with frequency, density, and amplitude modulation, as he explained, to match or oppose a planet’s magnetic field. I was unaware there was a frequency or amplitude associated with magnetic fields, and when I mentioned it, he replied, for want of better terminology, they were the best words he could find in our language to describe how their system worked.

Obviously, I had a lot to learn from these guys and sincerely hoped they’d teach me the basics of their technology.

As far as heat went, Deemy claimed it was not a problem unless they experienced a short circuit, such as the one caused by the impact with our space debris.

The harness housing and connectors were not damaged, but the debris had severed most of the wiring just outside the housing, which caused the wiring to overload and melt the surrounding insulation and couplings. The couplings appeared to be simple bayonet connectors, and I could make them back at my plant in a few hours. The wiring I could replace and braze to the undamaged sections easily enough with copper or silver if needed.

It was noon and I was getting hungry.

Do you guys want to have lunch before we head over to my plant to fabricate your harness?

Kazo agreed but stated, We would like to sample your foodstuffs, but need to test it for toxins before we consume it. What your body finds nourishing may not be beneficial for our internal systems.

Thirty minutes later, Myan was grinding samples of venison, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, and radishes then feeding them into his machine for analysis. A few minutes later, he declared everything to be safe for consumption before we sat for a meal of venison steaks, salad and home fries.

After a few tentative bites, my new friends dug into their meals like a pack of hungry wolves despite my warning to eat slowly, since their systems were not used to such strange foods. We all paid the price for their voracious consumption on the way to the plant as their digestive systems revolted and produced tremendous quantities of extremely acrid natural gas.

They were fascinated with my Kia Sorento, and especially with the music and sound system. But we had to drive through the snowstorm with all the windows down and the heater running full blast to keep the atmosphere in the cabin breathable.

Once inside the plant, they ran around inspecting our production equipment then advised our technology was far behind theirs, and kindly offered a few suggestions to improve the performance of the fuel cells. I made notes as they went from station to station, pointing out what we were doing wrong and then demonstrating how they produced their own, high-performance cells.

We were just walking into the warehouse when they saw the large reels of copper wire used in our production process. Kazo and Deemy went completely ape-shit, while Myan picked a piece of wire off the floor, held it up to me and asked how we can afford to leave such valuable metals laying on the ground.

It’s just a piece of scrap copper wiring, Myan. I’m going to use the same stuff to repair your wiring harness.

This was an extremely rare and valuable element on our home planet and others. Kazo said as he placed the short section of wire in a small, portable computer he had clipped to his belt. A moment later, he and the others began chirping excitedly as they read the inscription on the screen of his machine.

Ralph, my friend, this is what we call Gallaznium, and it was one of the rarest elements on our home planet. It is treasured for its conductivity, beauty, and rarity. We use Clarendine for our electrical transmission systems and wouldn’t dream of using Gallaznium, due to its extreme expense and rarity.

We call it copper, and on our planet, we have plenty of it. What you guys call Clarendine, we call aluminum, and again, its plentiful here, but we rarely use it for electrical transmission because it produces too much resistance and heat. We prefer to use copper because of its low resistance and flexibility.

I let them play with the copper while I went to work on their harness. Several hours later, I tested the continuity of the repaired harness against the undamaged sample and found the resistance to be much less with the copper wiring. After consulting with Deemy and Kazo, they agreed it might be best if I rebuilt the sample with copper also, which would equalize the performance of their drive magnets.

Myan was working alongside me and commenting on how their race was technically so much more advanced than ours but lacked the resources ours possessed. On the other hand, our race is so wasteful, violent, and shortsighted, he doubted we would ever reach our full potential.

I had to agree with him and suggested we were well down the path to self-destruction and doubted if anything could deter us from our eventual extinction.

I described the recent slaughter of those innocent migrants in Mexico along with the drug problem in my country, the rampant political corruption in most nations, and how big business was intent on destroying the very ecosystem that kept us all alive.

Our home planet’s history was very similar to your planets current situation, Myan remarked, But a secret society of people wanted to stop the madness before they destroyed our society. They rose from the masses and went about secretly eliminating the evil ones. It required many years, but eventually they removed enough of the bad people, so the good people of our planet could take power and correct all the evil perpetrated on our people and planet.

How did they eliminate them? I was surprised at his story and very interested in how it all worked.

They killed them. He remarked nonchalantly, It was the only way to eliminate them from their powerful positions. They could not be put into confinement because they employed everyone on the justice tribunals. So, the secret society went about killing them until their movement spread over the entire planet.

I thought you guys were peaceful space travelers, Myan. And now you’re telling me your ancestors ran around, killing all the bad guys on your planet, wholesale!

We prefer to avoid conflict if we can, but as you know, we have weapons on our ship in the event we meet a species who are hostile. And we do not hesitate to use our weapons in self-defense, but your planet’s defensive systems are easily defeated, so we did not bring our weapons officer. Our passive defensive devices, such as our invisibility system and electronic detection avoidance systems made us undetectable to your planet’s visual and electronic systems.

Except last night, when I saw you fly overhead, sputtering like a dying diesel engine.

On the way back to the barn, Kazo asked if I’d mind driving around the area so they could see more people and their structures. They were shocked and surprised with the shopping centers, traffic, roads, Christmas lights and the stench of auto exhaust.

We were eating dinner, or at least I was eating my dinner while my guests were sucking down their own rations, when I had an idea. Kazo, how heavy are the coils on your ship?

They each weigh approximately 500 pounds in your measure.

Can they be removed easily?

Yes, my friend! They are designed to be quickly removed, repaired, and replaced. Plus, they are completely interchangeable with any scout ship. Kazo stared at me for a long moment, and then asked, Why do you need to know this?

Would your ship’s performance improve noticeably if we coated the coils with copper?

His eyes went wide with astonishment as the implications of my question hit home. He put his sippy cup on the table and replied, By a factor of ten!

As soon as we finish eating, I’d like to be taken for a short ride in your ship. Afterwards, we’ll bring your ship into our shop where I can electroplate copper to your coils and replace as much of your wiring as possible with pure copper.

The three men chirped at each other continuously for at least fifteen minutes, until Deemy held up his hand. How long would it require for you to complete this process?

Depending upon the time it takes to pull the coils, and how intricate the wiring is inside the coils, we could have the process completed by tomorrow night or Monday morning at the latest.

All we would need to have treated with your copper metal are the coils and the power transmission lines, Deemy replied and then chirped a while with his shipmates.

We went back to the shop to install the harnesses and while Deemy and Myan were working inside the ship, I showed Kazo other metals I had around the barn and asked about their availability. He tested each sample and after we ran through most of the metals I had, he advised steel and most of the alloys added to it for hardness, durability and ductility were not all that scarce, but scarce enough not to waste. Gold was an unknown to them, and silver was even more rare than copper.

What they did have was plenty of aluminum, tin, and lots of what we considered to be rare earth minerals in addition to silica, which explained why they made so many parts with ceramics. He pointed out the ship’s hull was a ceramic-tin composite with beryllium and titanium. They had no idea what plastics were, as they had no experience with petroleum and very little with coal.

I was still scratching my head over their ingenuity and technology when Deemy advised the ship was ready to go. Kazo led me into the control room, had me sit at the weapons station and helped me strap in. He carefully advised I shouldn’t touch anything on the panel in front of me. He told Myan to open the garage again, but just reattach it temporarily as we would be back shortly.

While we were waiting for Myan, Deemy said they were not permitted to allow strangers inside their ship under pain of death, and if the mother ship discovered I was inside, they’d immediately dispatch destroyers to blast us all to atoms. I was to keep my mouth shut, remain in my seat until it was safe to move and speak.

What if your little device told you I wasn’t trustworthy, Kazo?

Then we would have made sure you would never have an opportunity to speak of us to anyone!

How would you do that, I persisted, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

That same device would erase your memory by disrupting your brain’s electrical impulses, he responded with a dead serious face. But we’re not sure how effective it would be on your species. It may just wipe out the previous 24 hours of events or completely destroy all brain function.

I faintly heard electric motors spinning up and then a high-pitched whining noise, followed by the sound of hatches closing and sealing themselves with the hissing of compressed air being exhausted somewhere behind us.

The ship gave a slight lurch upward then Deemy turned to me, reported he had full power, and the ship was in neutral buoyancy. There was just the slightest sensation of movement to the rear as Myan hustled into the cabin, strapped himself in, checked his monitor and then excitedly reported the ship was using 10% less than normal power to maintain buoyancy.

Looking forward through the windscreen, I not only saw the front of my garage turning to the left as the ship shifted its nose to point toward the woods, but a series of symbols and images scrolling up, down and across the windscreen.

The men continued chirping to each other in clipped sentences. Kazo was asking for status reports. All three were flipping switches, changing the screens on their workstations then replying to Kazo very swiftly.

Myan turned to me, whispered softly, We will be calling our mother ship now, so please refrain from noise or movement.

A moment later, Kazo began chirping and whistling as he held up his hand. He was immediately answered by someone through a speaker mounted in the overhead. He had a long exchange with whoever replied to him then grew quiet as Myan and then Deemy each made their reports, answered questions, and then listened quietly as the chirps, squeals and whistles from the speaker continued uninterrupted for at least another five minutes. The speaker eventually gave a few short chirps, a long whistle, to which the men all replied in unison with a couple sharp chirps and a brief whistle.

Kazo turned to me and stated, We told our mother ship what happened last night and advised we may need another rotation or possibly two of your planet before we can complete our repairs. We also advised your planet is not suitable for our purposes due to the violent nature of your people, the overpopulation of its surface, and the extensive contamination of your planet’s atmosphere.

Myan picked up their report, We reported we were able to secure a supply of your copper and have enlisted your help in making our repairs without revealing our origin or purpose. The mother ship ordered us to be careful to secure as much copper as we could carry back to the ship and ensure you are suitably rewarded for your assistance in the event we need more.

That was nice of them to make an offer for the copper, rather than tell you to take all you can carry then blast me to smithereens.

They also ordered us to take as much time as we needed to make our repairs, as they are busy mining materials from one of the other planets in your solar system.

Kazo added, We are ready for our test flight. I have to wait for several aircraft to clear the skies above us before we can take flight.

Myan chirped to Kazo, then turned to me, We have turned on our invisibility system so no one will detect us.

Kazo held up one closed hand, popped out his index finger and pointed forward.

I was immediately slammed back into my seat with so much force I couldn’t turn my head or even move my fingers, let alone my arms. My attempt to inhale was extremely difficult, but once I filled my lungs with air, the pressure of the g-force just forced the air out of them again. I could see Myan, was also plastered back into his seat, but he was making no attempt to move. As a matter of fact, the sucker had his eyes closed and his arms were on his lap. With a tremendous effort, I turned my head forward and saw the back of Kazo’s head. When I looked past Kazo to the windscreen, all I saw was the black night sky as we shot through the clouds at a 45-degree angle, and once clear of the clouds we went completely vertical.

The g-forces were almost unbearable, and when I saw Deemy out of the corner of my eye, it was obvious he wasn’t moving either. I decided they knew what they were doing, so I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but I was having serious trouble breathing. Just as I was about to black out, the g-forces slowly abated to a point where I was finally able to breathe.

There was no noise! No thundering rockets, screaming jet engines or howling motors. There was almost no noise at all, except for a barely perceptible thrumming noise coming from just behind the cockpit.

Kazo called, Ralph, would you like to see your Space Station?

I opened my eyes and almost shit myself when I saw the International Space station about a mile ahead. The damn thing was huge and looked like a giant tinker-toy. The shuttle was docked to it, and I could just see two men working off its extendable arm as we flew past, completely unnoticed.

Kazo conducted more systems tests with his men, and after a few minutes, remarked, Your repairs to the harnesses are working perfectly!

Deemy turned to me and apologized for the extremely rapid take-off, but they had a limited amount of time to take their ship into space and return due to the extreme amount of debris and expended rocket parts floating around our planet.

I should have warned you to close your eyes, hold your head steady and take a deep breath before we launched, he stated as he reached over and hit a button on my console.

A small joystick popped out of the console, and he explained I would be allowed to blow a large, dangerous piece of debris back into our atmosphere where it would burn up during its re-entry.

Kazo unstrapped himself from his seat, floated over and explained how the targeting system worked. It was simple enough; all I had to do was to place a red dot in the center of the object that would appear on my screen, press the trigger and it would be hit with a strong particle beam. The beam would either blast it apart if it was set on maximum power, or it would blow my target directly away from us with tremendous force if we used the current setting.

The screen soon displayed what looked like a very large hot water heater, but a short observation revealed it was a third stage of an old Russian rocket, with a big, red CCCP emblazoned on its side.

Kazo jockeyed the ship around until it was pointing directly at the discarded stage, with the earth on its other side. Press the trigger and hold it until you see it moving away, Deemy said softly.

I held the red dot on the center of the rocket as I pressed the trigger. There was a quick thumping noise from under the floor of the cockpit and in a few seconds, the rocket stage began to quickly spin away from us. I let up on the trigger immediately and watched as the white shell tumbled toward the earth.

Nice work, my friend, Deemy remarked. He chirped to Kazo, returned to his seat, strapped in then told me to take a deep breath, keep my eyes closed, and place my hands in my lap.

I did as tell, and a few moments later, I was slammed back into my seat, but not as hard as the take off. The g-forces shifted me forward in my seat for a few seconds and then eased off entirely. I opened my eyes to find we were flying downward at a 45-degree angle, but what shocked me was not only being able to see the curvature of the earth, but we were over the Indian Subcontinent and in broad daylight.

Holy shit, I exclaimed, I can’t believe we traveled that far so fast! And we must be at least 200,000 feet up!

"This ship will travel at twice light speed in space, but once we are in an atmosphere such as yours, we are limited to 17,000 of your miles per hour