Uppity Aliens

By Mary Ellen Wall

While Elise and LeeLaa are are experimenting on gardening methods, they uncover and ancient spaceship. It calls for it's makers and soon they arrive, scooping Elise, LeeLaa and a friend up into who knows where. Eventually, Elise and LeeLaa make peace with the new, superior aliens as they are only LeeLaa's people with AI modifications. Meanwhile

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flint Springs Publishing
• Release date: Jan 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781945937163

Mary Ellen Wall

Roaming from Egypt to the Philippines to Holland to the Hebrides to Tasmania to a tiny Indian Ocean atoll and to points between opened my eyes to others. Being a US Navy Machinist working on nuclear submarines widened my technical knowhow. A few degrees grew my understanding of form and substance. Building my log cabin in the Kentucky woods gave me a refuge from the world's turmoil. Brewing my own ale, bitter, porter, stout, wine, cider, kyser and mead (and drinking it) made me ready to spin some stories.

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6 Uppity Aliens Ready

UPPITY ALIENS

AN ELISE T'HOOT GALACTIC ADVENTURE BOOK SIX

MARY ELLEN WALL

Flint Springs PublishinG

Horse Branch, Kentucky

Copyright © 2019 by Mary Ellen Wall.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

Mary Ellen Wall/Flint Springs Publishing

www.mayellenwalll.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book Layout ©2017BookDesignTemplates.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019911904

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the Special Sales Department at the address above.

Uppity Aliens/ Mary Ellen Wall. -- 1st ed.

ISBN 978-1-9459371-0-1

For the Good Stewards of this planet who combine creativity, strength and dogged perseverance to make our world sustainable, and perhaps survivable.

We must take our friends as they are.

―James Boswell 1740-1795

ONE

INCOMING!

General Hotchkiss, priority alert, vessel detected nearing the Bus Stop. Sir, first visuals show it is not an interstellar wheel.

Frikke, I'm on the way to Op Central. What do you see? How big is it?

Can't say, sir, the edges aren't visible yet. The scanners show nada, visual from the dock cameras is all I have.

Any comm? Any signal?

We have an undecipherable code on a high frequency; AI says it's intelligent but can't make sense of it. Frikke paused, then reported, They seem to be sending to someone here.

Hotchkiss ran through the scenarios again and this could be the one he dreaded most: The Patriots had better and faster technology now, tech he wasn't prepared for, with hope of finding confederates hidden among his troops. Did someone here intercept that comm? Someone who wanted to deny Tembo's hard fought independence from the tyrants of Earth?

He arrived at Op Central and stood gawking at what had stopped between Topside and the established interstellar dock, the Bus Stop. Alert all units to duty stations.

Operation Duck and Cover, sir?

No, not yet. I don't know how that could be them, but if it is, they won't immediately know we took independence, so we may be able to bluff ourselves into a good position if they don't see too much activity out of the norm. Prep it, though. The damned thing dwarfed any craft he'd ever seen before.

TWO

BABAR

Sweat dripping from his pockmarked face, the big man stumped over and thumped the two makeshift hods of handmade adobe bricks next to the plot he'd set aside for three end-to-end two meter by three meter raised beds, real desert gardening, conserve that water. He stared at them a minute.

Leon, you dope, you forgot the doors!

Guess I better go get 'em', he answered himself.

He came back with three doors, each a pair of silicasteel frames two meters long and about a third as high. The hinged spine of each included piston anchors designed to hold a translucent door at an angle. He stared at the set-up, advertised as the 'Copperhead Sure-Gro Moisture Maid and Temp Defender'.

Leon, make sure you put the frame in before you butter the bricks so you make sure it fits.

He laid a frame in the first one easily enough, but it lapped an edge of one end of stacked bricks or another.

I thought you measured that, you dope.

Shut up! I did measure it. The bricks must've shifted.

Over an hour later, after disassembling and reassembling the bricks, he finally had all three of the frames seated and had tested all the glass-like tinted doors and hooked in the solar panels; they operated as promoted, covering the beds all the way across. He considered all three beds carefully, walking around them several times in concentration, squatting multiple times to verify the line-up.

Butter 'em up Leon!

He grabbed the handles of the shiny light-steel wheelbarrow and pushed it around the side of his house where he thought he might one day bury his cistern; Copperhead said the water would be cool and refreshing if stored underground and that notion appealed to him a good deal.

Spread the mortar with your hands, Leon.

Shut up. He went back for the trowel.

A thin man half the size of the gardener, silky black hair sprouting out all over, stood by the beds with a critical air. What are building here, Babar?

Leon pulled the battered canteen off his belt and wondered if the salty water did him any good at all. What's it look like? You want something Chang, or you just drawn by the sight of somebody working?

Tut! All neighbors wonder what brings the indoor gardener and chemist outside on a hot day as this?

This is the end of the road with you next to me, Vic across from me and nobody else to the next block. All days are hot. A buck a gram.

Fifty gram discount? Forty dollars? Chang's attempted smile cracked the scabs on his face.

Fifty grams is fifty bucks. Go over to Pinochle Pete's if you want a better deal. Leon didn't have time for this wasted scrap of humanity, somebody who was never able to make the transition from a prominent and promising Earth position, some international bank; he aimed to finish his garden boxes in good time.

Chang's shoulders were hunched up nearly to his ears now. Yours makes better dreams. I did not see your lights on last night; you still have some, don't you?

Leon lifted his hat by the brim and fanned his face as he saw another wastrel wending his way over.

Hallo chums! Fabulous day, isn't it? What do you say, Chang, Babar?

The big man replaced his hat and stretched to full height in hope of intimidating them enough to cut the whining and wheedling. I got nothing for you Vic, go see Pete.

The new chap looked nervously from one man to the other; Chang's misery didn’t boost his confidence. Babar, good chum that you are, surely you spared some for your dearest companion?

Companions, the thin man interjected with surprising strength.

Quite. Vic winced as he tried to limber up and create a difference between him and Chang, an obvious struggle anyone could see he wouldn't win. You said you had a new batch coming along and we would like to give it the seal of approval, you know.

With a defeated grunt, Leon relented. I sold it all in town last night except for 50 grams. Thumb it if you want it or don't. They filed into his house away from non-existent prying eyes and made the transaction, 25 grams each, tucking their scores away carefully.

Outside, Leon pointed up the road. Go on, now; I want to get this finished before Blackie comes out.

Vic's chest rattled with his distress Babar! Is this all of it? Pete's a rascal and a cheat; I count on you! He strove to maintain himself as a popular and professional political analyst on sabbatical, but the effect was ruined by the way he continually dabbed at the blood that oozed from his nose.

We count on you! Chang fidgeted, more like a ferret than a man and glanced from man to man nervously, his hands curled into fists with his thumbs rubbing his forefingers vigorously. His black moustache had a ruddy crust.

Leon turned back to his work. Where had he put the water for the mortar?

Come on, Chang, the ruined pundit sniffed, I know a little lady on Daggit that'll help us round this paltry 25 grams out to an even 50 or 60. Babar, you don't know how grievously you have disappointed me, no, chum, you don't.

Leon glanced back to make sure they were really going away, the last of the bunch of about a dozen that had squatted in the abandoned houses across the road. A few months ago, 25 grams would have lasted either of them a week.

He shook the nagging angel off his shoulder; they chose to poison themselves, they weren't force-fed. Leon, Blackie rises in a couple hours and these bricks didn't fly into place while you wasn't lookin'! He blinked and shook his head. Yes, his work still sat around making little sand dunes in the gusting wind. He pulled his dust mask up.

Soon he sweated at mortaring each brick in place with the cement-like regolith mixed with precious water, careful to affix the frame straight, disassembling a side and building it back strong and tight. After the last brick, he leaned back on his haunches and stretched expansively. With a groan, he rose and fetched the selectively permeable liners that cost him a chunk of cash, mindful of the low sun in his eyes. He unfolded a liner and stared, fuddled at the color code of blue on one side and brown on the other.

Blue for sky and brown for dirt? The brown on the inside? He laid it atop a bed and frowned at it. A gust lofted the light liner, making it tumble a few times before it alit somewhere a few meters away; he found it by looking for a strange lump since the whole place had a fresh dusting. See Leon? Brown sky and blue water! Water blue inside.

Leon reviewed his plan as he weighted the liner, blue to the inside, down inside his bricked box with rocks; tomorrow was good dirt and seeds day. He squinted into the horizon and spotted mean old Blackie crawling into the darkening sky and thought 'cantaloupes', tasting the sweet flesh of cantaloupes wet and delicious against his parched tongue. He closed his eyes and pictured rampant cantaloupe vines laden with large, round, netted fruits. He said nothing for the ill-omened moonlet to overhear.

THREE

IN THE FAR BACK YARD

Stop it! I don't want to hear it any more, not one more damned time! Leave off!

Elise, what is wrong? LeeLaa rushed over to the tent where her friend went to get water. Who talk to? Her sensory antennae swayed with concern.

Sorry, LeeLaa, I was remembering Alain, me arguing with him in my weary head. Alain wanted me to stay with Ag and contribute to the great cause, and I would if Darcy wasn't such a supercilious and condescending prick. Dr. Cartier, you went to the great prairie in the sky too soon! A moistened wipe felt good on her face and neck and as soon as she'd slathered on more sun block, they went out to survey the work done so far.

Ag planned to use the bacteria and mold mixes, most that she'd collected for them, in incubation arrays to convert the regolith into soil in ponderous steps. Naturally, Ag's official plan got the lion's share of the government resources. Darcy had smirked when she'd asked for a suite of compost inoculant as if she were a beggar off the street, the sycophant Sarjani next to him. The only one positive about her break with Ag happened to be Commander Penny Wing, the officer in charge of redundancy and diversity. She was the one who'd freed up some essential equipment for Elise's home lab and pegged Lieutenant Hansen to retrieve fresh bounty from the formerly self-sufficient prison camp of Alcatraz before more 'official' raids took place; the prison camp Commandant's private greenhouse held the most diverse flora and fauna on the desolate planet.

The Lieutenant trudged up from the big six wheeled rover Elise had tricked out as a lab with cargo area and sleeping quarters. He had a balloon-tire cart in tow, a cart piled with poles and various pieces of other equipment. You two plan on getting any more work done before we bake out here? That sun is going up, up, up. Knuckles on hips, his smile was hidden in his dust mask but evident in his voice.

Hansen, LeeLaa admonished, we work good. Hansen not mark worked plots yet.

Elise took a moment to cache some message responses to upload when she got back to the house, but felt cheered hearing them more relaxed with each other. She put her tablet on standby and added, "Ha! Hansen, she got you! We have already done the mineral distribution for all nine plots. Well before noon, I dare add."

He peered up at the tall, tree-like alien, LeeLaa had her glowing sensor-stalks waving from the top of her 'trunk' toward him. He responded with a tight smile and nodded, then looked over to Elise. Are you two sure you want them so far from each other? They could share shells if they were closer.

Elise glanced at LeeLaa companionably before replying, Buddy, don't you second guess me, too, I beg thee. I want each in a separate shell to monitor the off-gassing for each trial; remember that idea is to get fertile ground and better air at the same time, with the utmost speed and efficiency, in situ. I'm betting this last plot series with the sea alga mix will be the ticket and I don't want an ambiguous result. The domed Ag farms used hydroponics and greenhouse techniques, okay for domes but not for a planetary surface where one wanted a forest, not just a few trees. Why not aim for soil that helps maintain the whole environment?

Hansen hefted the beacon-equipped marker poles and took the hard packed path along plot sides, muttering about going to California where it rained every once in a while.

Elise wanted to accomplish this short jaunt in two days, three on the outside. Just yesterday morning they'd unloaded the awning-type tent for general shade and respite as the red dawn retired the starry darkness. Because of her experience in the school of hard knocks, establishing the rock-sheltered spot and pitching the simple tent took no time at all. Of course, filling it with equipment from their rover including monitors, data acquisition modules, some water and everything else they needed sucked up a couple of hours. LeeLaa had easily hoisted and toted most of the plunder as Hansen worked on erecting a tent with roll-up sides out to the west of camp for the alien.

As the sun lifted from the horizon on this second day, they'd worked on the specific mineral composition for each plot and got most of the irrigation pinned in place. Elise could tell by the heat burning through the back of her shirt that they wouldn't get the last ones before noon if they didn't hustle.

At the data pier erected in the center of the plot array, she telescoped the strong solar stalk up and quickly tested the data acquisition system by polling for the sensors already in place on the irrigation lines; the marker poles had sensors too, but were still in a jumble. More sensors would have been nice! Also nice would have been sensors or a relay with enough power for her to access from the comfort of home, but this wasn't Earth. Her face stretched into a rare grin as she mentally added, 'I wouldn't completely in charge of my own jobs on Earth, either, so this is good enough!'

She closed the protective cover and trotted over to check what the delay with the markers could be. Her assigned bodyguard had dropped his supplies to the side of the first prepared plot and retrieved his first pole. Why did the guy diddle around?

He checked his compass-locator and called back to her, Here is your first corner, ladies. I'll be right back. He marched further back with the other ten poles and the laser hole-punch to erect one at a time at the planned distances at the edge of the path and along the main drip irrigation lines. He checked the line-up and reached to light off each solar beacon on the way back.

As soon as he started on the next series, Elise stepped over and bent to make sure the poles wouldn’t interfere with the water supply. The reservoir they'd pulled water into was