Eyes over Earth: Book One

By J. A. Egan

EYES OVER EARTH is a view of what would happen if a benevolent creature
takes pity of a doomed world, and interacts with an insignificant individual.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Feb 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781984503459

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 by J. A. Egan.

ISBN:               Softcover             978-1-9845-0346-6

                         eBook                  978-1-9845-0345-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 02/04/2019

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

750740

This book is dedicated to my soul-mate, Rhonda.

Without whom this novel wouldn’t see the light of day.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Enter the Alien

Chapter 2     Blended

Chapter 3     Second Flight

Chapter 4     Going Public

Chapter 5     Refit Revolution

Chapter 6     Impostor

Chapter 7     Possible Threat

Chapter 8     Welcome Home

Chapter 9     Earthling to the Rescue

Chapter 10   A New Recruit

Chapter 11   Getting Involved

Chapter 12   Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

Chapter 13   Protecting the Masses

Chapter 14   Love Makes You Crazy

1

ENTER THE ALIEN

S ince 1999, Jim hadn’t given a moment’s thought to his first UFO sighting, until Thursday, 18 th September 2008. He was out the front taking Christopher for a quick squat-n-drop as Timothy calls it. Christopher is their eight-year-old Boxer dog; they adopted him from the local animal shelter. Anyway, while he cocked his leg against Stella’s prize fuchsias, Jim noticed a descending fog that night and gazing up through the fog, spotted a plane’s running lights; one yellow out front, blue on its left and green on the right.

Those aren’t normal running lights, he noticed. It was heading straight towards him. Jim was familiar with light aircraft overhead as the local airport is only 20 minutes from Mareeba.

Bloody hell, he said aloud. Where’s the noise? No sound came from the plane at all. His engine must have failed. He checked the aircraft’s lessening altitude so it didn’t bear down on any houses. When, without warning, it changed direction in a sharp 90-degree turn. No airplane could have matched its maneuverability. As fast as it came into sight it was lost in the fog. What kept springing to mind was how spooky the whole event felt.

There was no sound, Jim realized. It seemed strange how deadly quiet Mareeba was. No traffic and no one walking the streets. It appeared as if the whole event was perfectly timed because usually this time of night a steady flow of cars and people pass their home. Jim called Christopher to come back inside. He came running over wagging his stumpy tail, satisfied having taken care of business. Walking towards the back door Jim contemplated telling Stella what he’d just witnessed, but by the time he reached the back door, decided this one he’d keep to himself.

Once again, the events of that evening became less important as the hustle and bustle of their busy lives took over. Jim’s memory is affected by his illness, Fibromyalgia, and not able to concentrate on the simplest of tasks, made the event slip further from his mind.

Another year drifted by without a single sighting, and it was time to do his evening chore with the dog. That duty is taking their beautiful new dog, a year and a half old Harlequin Great Dane and Arab Mastiff cross, called Jess, out for a quick squat-n-drop. They’d lost poor Christopher to illness a month earlier. Jess started her usual route around the front yard, and while she was busy, Jim gazed at the stars.

Hm, this has always been a good way to relax. Helps me put all my problems into perspective, he said to Jess, while thinking, It’s another beautiful night. Jess tried to catch a cane toad.

"Leave those damn things alone. They’ll make you sick you crazy dog." Gazing up again, Jim tried to see the planet Mars but gave up in disgust. He didn’t know which planet is which or where the known constellations where. Yet, viewing them has and always will be therapeutic to his soul. Peering down at Jess, Jim realized she hadn’t finished, so gazed up and wondered. What if that thing’s still up there after all these years? Concentrating, Jim worked out its relevant position to where he stood years ago in Tasmania.

Reminiscing, he faced south, south-west, and recalled the night.

It was close to the end of July 1999. On a clear and chilly night, while star gazing on the balcony of his home, which faced the beautiful Tamar River. The home offered generous views of the Batman Bridge and surrounding river frontage. It was around 9 o’clock in the evening with a moonless sky, giving the stars a sharper contrast against the blackness of space. Another advantage of the countryside is the benefit of no street lights distorting your view above. Also on the odd occasion when Jim was lucky enough he’d catch a glimpse of an asteroid’s last moments, and watch it fall towards Earth in a white-hot death roll. Jim gave his glasses a clean on the corner of his flannelette shirt, making it easier to see.

There’s nothing worse than gazing through dirty spectacles, he thought. It never ceased to amaze Jim just how much junk floated around up there, including pieces of multistage rockets and old satellites no longer in use. Suddenly his eyes spotted a bright object, a satellite moving east to west.

Wow! Isn’t that amazing! Jim could even spot its anti-clockwise rotation. Once again thinking, How clear the air is. When what he saw defied everything you ever hear from governmental authorities regarding UFOs. ‘Officially they don’t exist’. Jim followed the path of the satellite when a strange object swerved out of its way. In doing so, the sun reflected on what he considered to be the underside and exposed its textured details. It was enormous. Guessing by how small the satellite appeared, it was the size of a house. That’s the side he could see. Heaven knows how tall it was. The pitted side facing Jim had a rough texture like an orange skin. In a strange way, it looked organic. Only when the vessel changed course it came into view, which made him suspect it had stealth ability, because once it dodged the oncoming satellite it vanished from sight. Jim found south in relation to where the Sun rises in Mareeba and turned his gaze upward to the south, south-west and searched in that area of space. It wasn’t long before he found it.

There, in stationary orbit, right where it’d been nine years ago. What the bloody hell could it be doing up there all this time? Was there someone in it? Or is it an automated probe? Strange how its color is darker than the night sky, if it’s got a cloaking device then it’s not working too well, he continued to think.

I can see it, said Jim to Jess, who stood next to him waiting for an invitation back inside. Jim speculated why more people haven’t spotted it. Or maybe someone else has, but they’re keeping it a secret too in fear of incarceration as a nutcase. Jim knew he hadn’t bragged or confessed to any alien conspiracies. He guessed people can sit on secrets for ages these days and laughed at himself because he has one.

Come on Jess, we’ve been out here long enough, Stella will think we’ve been abducted, Jim laughed as she twisted her head in response. Like a bolt of lightning, Jim’s body doubled-up with the shock of transport, and his human-form left our earthly plane in an instant. Opening one eye, Jim took a moment to recall what happened. With both eyes open he surveyed the surroundings. Cold and shivering he stood up from what looked like a large dinner-plate meters wide. His eyes now adjusted to the low light, Jim stepped off the platform and fell unceremoniously on his face. Unbeknown to him, on the floor of this strange environment lay gelatinous ooze. Wiping it from his face, Jim caught a whiff and dried reached from its stench. After a great effort, he managed to stand and look around.

Have I shrunk somehow and Jess licked me up, he considered. No, don’t be stupid, he whispered, gagging again on the foul smell in his nostrils. Remembering he still had a mobile-phone in his top pocket, Jim wiped his hands clean as best he could and took it out to dial his wife, Stella. Waking the phone from slumber he noticed there were three bars of reception and promptly tapped her contact details.

Stella, it’s me, Jim.

What the devil are you calling me for? Has Jess finished her business?

I don’t know. In fact, I don’t know where I am.

Brow furrowed, Stella made for the back door. What’s that fool gone and done now, she thought, standing on the bottom step. Jess came trotting over wagging her tail.

Where’s Jim, Jess? Hearing his name she dropped her head and followed his scent. Heading out front to where the trail ended on a damp lawn; fresh dew from a clear night covering unprotected areas. Looking about for her husband, Stella put the phone to her ear and said, Where the devil are you?

I don’t know. Jim walked on carefully, his shoes slipping on the floor. Close to one of the walls he noticed it resembled raw meat; a myriad of veins carrying multi-colored fluids heaven knows where.

I’m scared, Stella. Jim held the phone tightly against his ear; a life-line he daren’t let go.

Look, I’ve just about had it with your crap. Now, where are you? She said, not seeing the funny side of his prank she lost patience.

While walking further through what resembled ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’ Jim came across a transparent membrane stretched between thick exposed bones, in shock, he stared down at the blue marble.

Holy shit! he said, coming to a rapid conclusion, I know exactly where I am.

Where are you then? Stella asked in frustration.

Remember when I told you about that ship I saw in Tasmania all those years ago.

Yeah, sort of, she said in answer.

Well, that’s where I am. Looking down he could make out the coast of East Africa passing by under light cloud cover.

Oh pull the other one. Now, where are you? Stella asked abruptly.

Really, I’m telling you the truth.

Look, when you’ve finished playing your little joke, come inside. I’ll be going to work soon. Stella tapped the mobile and called Jess to follow, making her way inside.

Stella, are you still there? Jim held the phone out and could see she’d hung-up. That’s just marvelous, he groaned. Shaking his head in disbelief at the sight below, Jim turned and whispered to himself, Fortune favors the brave. Deciding to continue he walked on, sensing the gentle incline he strode on and marveled at the size of this sickening assault on the senses. Knowing he’d suffer many a sleepless night if ever he made it home, he put one foot in front of the other and ventured on. Rounding a corner he entered what was clearly a control room. Several gadgets mounted on walls popped and whistled when he came close. Filled with overwhelming desire, he reached up and touched a lever begging to be tweaked.

Do not touch that. Jim nearly jumped out of his skin at the demand.

Who’s there? He asked looking around.

It is I, the Master of this vessel. Again Jim cringed at the strength of its reply. Looking about, he considered the inhabitant might be invisible, but dismissed this conclusion immediately when the wall not far from him shivered like Jell-O on a platter. An opening appeared and what stepped forth caused him to scream like a little girl.

I’ve got to show more courage than this, he decided, backing against a wall, hands out behind him. Jim stopped when he felt something similar to fresh meat.

Yes, gather yourself, Jim. Time is against us and we must act now. The strange looking beast moved over toward a control panel, and with ease made an outline of a man appear on the floor. Thinking his days were numbered, Jim panicked and tried to escape. Slipping and skidding as a cat would on a linoleum floor. After exhausting himself he gave up and surrendered to fate.

Okay, I give up.

You cannot, we are just getting started. Now lay on the highlighted area. The beast demanded. It was then Jim noticed its mouth didn’t move when communicating.

What are you? He asked in a high pitched voice.

Forgive my crass entry. My name is Rogand, and I am from the planet Stommarli. We use telepathy to relay our thoughts. Jim couldn’t help but look over the dark blue creature. The more he scrutinized the beast, the more he believed it resembled a dragon. Yet, its head had more of a dog-like quality to it.

I never thought of myself as having K9 qualities, Jim. Rogand flipped another lever and the wall above the control panel stretched to reveal a reflection. Moving his stumpy legs, Rogand gazed at himself and huffed indignantly.

Dog-like indeed. Now, lay down. Jim started bending when Rogand shot forcedly into his mind.

Oh for goodness sake, take your coverings off. Jim stood still for a moment, embarrassed about removing his clothes in front of a total stranger.

Never have I seen such an odd species. I have no covering and you do not see me blushing, do you? Looking at Rogand and seeing he wore nothing, Jim decided to throw caution to the wind and undressed. He was cold the moment he arrived, but now froze as the last piece of clothing fell onto the bile below. Obeying Rogand’s command he lay in the chilly ooze and gagged again at the foul smell.

Curious as to the beast’s objective he said, Just what are you going to do?

I want to blend you with a species I saved. They lay these past thousand years in stasis.

What!

Do not worry, you and they are compatible. The poor humanoid I removed them from was near death when I found him.

Oh thanks, that makes me feel so much better, he said mockingly. "So, what are these things supposed to do?

Do you remember when I dodged that satellite and revealed myself?

Yes, how could I forget? Stella said I was losing my marbles.

Well, I scanned your body extensively and my conclusion was you suffer from a common abnormality in your world.

Yeah, so what, you got a cure or something?

As a matter of fact, I have. The symbiotic life-forms will restore every cell in your body, once my process is complete. At the prospect of a pain-free-life, Jim lifted his head off the floor and said, What the devil are you waiting for, let’s get started.

Without further ado, Rogand pulled on the largest lever and immediately Jim felt pain the like he’d never felt before. It was so intense; he broke a back tooth during blending as Symbiotes flooded his body through the ships organic hull. He didn’t remember much during the process as he passed out.

When Jim woke he lay flat on his back in the middle of his driveway fully dressed with Jess standing over him wagging her tail.

Must have been a bad dream, he said to Jess, ruffling her ears.

It was no dream, the voice said inside his head. The sun is rising on your position, rest while the blending continues. Rogand’s advice rattled around inside Jim’s head. One thing he did know, it’ll take him a long time to get used to telepathy.

How will I know when the little critters are finished?

Symbiotes, Rogand corrected. They will communicate when the time is right, came his last directive.

How will they? Jim asked again, but Rogand was silent, he could no longer hear him. Jim struggled to his feet and headed toward the back door.

Oh well, tonight was a night of firsts for me. I was the first human to travel via sub-matter transport. I met Rogand, my first alien, blended with symbiotes, not too sure about that one. Rogand said they’d make me feel better, he thought.

They don’t seem to be working at the moment, he said to Jess, I still feel terrible. He fed Jess and then went straight to bed. When his head hit the pillow, he fell straight to sleep.

The sound of Stella opening the front gates woke him. Gazing at the clock next to his bed it read 07:32 in the morning. Stretching and throwing off the bed covers, Jim was surprised at how good he felt after one and a half hours sleep.

Getting dressed Jim noticed how easily he moved. He used his tongue to feel for the damaged tooth but gave up when he couldn’t find it. Putting on his watch, he reached for his spectacles. Sliding them on, he was met with a pleasant surprise this morning. He got a very different response to the norm. Instead of clearing his vision, the glasses made everything blurry. So he lowered them from his eyes, the vision was perfect and clear again, raised them to his eyes, blurry, lowered them, clear. Jim did the blurry, clear, blurry, clear routine for a minute or two, then gave up and left them on the dresser.

Lessening pain, perfect vision and no broken tooth, he realized. Well, blow me down! Rogand wasn’t lying after all, Jim whispered to himself walking out the bedroom.

Greeting Stella at the back door, he watched her remove the prison-issued footwear, or head kicking boots as Timothy calls them.

Did everything go well at work last night? Jim asked, curious to know what happened on the graveyard shift.

Not too bad, thanks, Jim. Night shift is just babysitting, they’re all locked down. We spend most of our time counting heads, making sure we don’t lose one over the fence. How was your night? She asked in return.

Once again, Jim had to put his mind into gear before opening his mouth. If he told her everything, he’s sure Stella would call Dr. Benjamin Wright and arrange for another visit. Stella and Jim are very much in love in spite of everything that’s happened since Tasmania. Yet, he chose to err on the side of caution.

Fantastic thanks, Jess and I had a ball. Would you like an omelet? Jim asked, knowing she had a much better time of it than he did.

Sounds great, she replied, placing her boots on the rack. While Stella showered, Jim made her favorite chicken and cheese omelet. Whilst cooking on the stove waiting to flip the omelet, he heard what sounded like a distant crowd approaching, hundreds, if not thousands of voices, then silence. Next, there was a single voice inside his head, shouting.

WE ARE HERE, WE ARE HERE, WE ARE HERE, it bellowed in Jim’s mind.

Who’s here, he shouted back. Only, it was Stella who replied.

What’s that Jim? She yelled through the sound of running water.

Oh, nothing, I just burnt my finger on the frying pan. Jim tried to cover-up his slip of the tongue. He heard the shower turn off.

We are here, we are here, we are here, came the voice inside his head again. Thankfully, this time they weren’t shouting, it was a gentle whisper, so Jim whispered back.

Who’s there? He said, nerves balancing on a razor’s edge.

We are now you, for you, we care, so don’t despair, we and you are now the same, so please choose a name and then we can refrain from shouting again, the unknown individual stated. But Jim didn’t have time to reply. Stella walked out from the bathroom in her nightie and dressing gown.

Sit down Kiddo, breakfast is ready, he slid the omelet from the frying pan onto the plate and placed it in front of her. Stella remarked on how good it looked.

Would you like a cup of tea with that? Jim asked, dreading the voice in his head may return.

Yes, thanks, Jim.

He turned to walk back into the kitchen, when… WE ARE HERE, WE ARE HERE, WE ARE HERE, it yelled in his mind. Jim clutched his head and stumbled for a moment at their sheer volume and power.

Are you all right Jim? Stella asked through a mouth full of food.

Yeah, I’m just getting a terrible headache. I’ll get you that tea first, then head to the lounge and kick back in the recliner for a while.

Okay, do what’s best and take care of yourself. Once I’ve finished breakfast, I’m off to bed, so I’ll be fresh for tonight, Stella said, taking the cup and saucer.

Struggling, Jim made it to the lounge room with a little more effort than he would’ve liked. Sitting in the recliner and asking the voice inside his head the same question.

Who’s there? He said again hoping to get an answer.

We are here, we are h…,

All right, said Jim, That’s enough, I heard you the first time.

Yes, yes, yes, a name, a name, so we can refrain,

Yes, I know, from shouting again,

Please choose. Please choose so you can snooze,

What name would you like?

You must choose. You must choose, to follow and help, is what we are, you must choose, the odd-sounding creatures asked.

Okay, I get the picture, Jim whispered through gritted teeth. I’d better come up with a name before you shout into my head again. Think, damn it, think, as if by video replay the events of meeting Rogand unfolded in Jim’s mind.

The first human to receive symbiotes, Hm, he sounded out names. Mannie, Buddy, Rowan, no those don’t sound good at all. How about Heman? No, that sounds stupid. I know I used to have a budgerigar named Simon when I was 12 years old. I loved that bird. How does Simon sound? No, wait! Sy-man, that’s it… Syman, in honor of the first symbiote and human blending, said Jim.

We like, we like, our name we like, Syman’s reply echoed within his mind.

Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you Syman, call me Jim,

Jim, it is, Syman we are, for together we’ll be, from here to far, Syman sang inside Jim’s head.

What do you mean, from here to far? Wanting to know if in any way it related to distance.

We repair cells, from now till then, so live-forever, we both together.

Holy cow, just what other wonders are you capable of? Jim asked eager to know the answer.

We have in us the knowledge of all, until Traibill’s fall, history, science, enhancements for speed, strength and more, just ask and we can help get answers to all. Just for fun, because Jim was feeling rather stupid and elated with his new pain-free body, like a giddy schoolboy. He had nothing to lose so threw caution to the wind and asked.

Can you make my car fly, expecting their answer would be No.

We can, we can, the knowledge is here, with gravity in play the choice is clear, ten cells we make with guidance for flight, our car will lift in the air and take flight, up into the night, they sang again in Jim’s mind.

Okay Syman, show me how, said Jim. What have I got