Space Hippies: From Beyond the Kuiper Belt

By Ken Mittelbuscher

In the year 2056, the Earth is completely destroyed by a hoard of giant planet-eating squid from parts unknown.

Have you ever thought what could happen if you took LSD, and by coincidence, you were abducted by extraterrestrials? Once specimens, such as humans, are collected for scientific research, subjects are thoroughly processed prior to being placed into storage for the return to the alien planet. As part of the process, a mind link is established between the specimen and alien processors. All memories of the subject is processed from the specimen's brain, where visualizations are watched and recorded by aliens for future study. Due to two of the five hippie specimens being under the influence of LSD, two alien processors also become under the influence. One of which destroys all his comrades upon the research spacecraft. One of the humans wakes to find he and the others have been abducted. Once awakened and with the assistance of an imprisoned giant aquatic creature, the humans help the last alien. The six come together, traveling forward in time to rescue the Earth from total destruction, ultimately, saving two planets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889822844

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1: The Hoard

Chapter 2: The Trip North

Chapter 3: The Search

Chapter 4: The Extraction

Chapter 5: Processing

Chapter 6: The Slaughter

Chapter 7: The Lion

Chapter 8: The Calling

Chapter 9: The Danger

Chapter 10: Waking the Alien

Chapter 11: Visions

Chapter 12: Jimi

Chapter 13: Jimi Likes Marijuana

Chapter 14: The Meeting

Chapter 15: The First Return to Earth

Chapter 16: The Void

Chapter 17: The Plan

Chapter 18: The Visit

Chapter 19: The Lure

Chapter 20: Kara's System

Chapter 21: The Way Home

Chapter 22: The Red Fern

Chapter 23: Last Stop

Chapter 24: Jimi's Plan

Chapter 25: Captain Leary

Chapter 26: Goodbye, Jimi, Hello, Herbie

Chapter 27: Herbie Gets a Job

Chapter 28: 1968 Alderville

About the Author

Space Hippies: From Beyond the Kuiper Belt

Ken Mittelbuscher

Copyright © 2023 Ken Mittelbuscher

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88982-283-7 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-284-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my three daughters Angela, Shannon, and Michele and their families

There is a distinct difference between alien abductions and alien extractions. When abducted, you could be returned.

Chapter 1

The Hoard

The year was 2056. What was once Earth was now a burned-out shell of crumbling rubble. Only a small glow flickered, the remnants of the planet's core. The last of the giant squid hoard continued to fight among each other for remaining scraps of nourishment, any form of ore, and energy. Gulping down the last remnants of rock, Earth as we knew it disappeared down deep-black ravenous throats. The remaining squid joined the seemingly endless hoard of blackness, traveling away from the sun. These fearless creatures spanned nearly a mile in length, from their heads to the tips of their tentacles. Hundreds of thousands of these cold-blooded, deadly giant creatures chewed their way through planets, devouring all resources. With their stomachs full, the last of the squid joined up with the hoard in search of prey in a different solar system.

Once the squid's tentacles locate any energy source, such as planets, where life exists, there is no hope of stopping their destructive attack. Working like giant excavators, their ravenous beaks begin to chew at the planet's surface, breaking up all physical landscape, creating massive fissures, volcanic eruptions, and massive quakes.

Each creature fights for the best position and portions of ore and energy, with the larger females getting the best shares. An object, such as a satellite or space station, is quickly attacked and strangled by probing tentacles. The sound of metal shrieking and hulls collapsing disrupt the silence of space, as destructive beaks chew indiscriminately until little remains. Generally, all is consumed, leaving only rubble and ruin, floating and scattering throughout space. Once the scouts of the nomadic hoard locate energy or ore, months or years may pass before their prey is fully consumed. Although the squid are attracted to energy and sources of light, the hoard cannot withstand the extreme heat of a planet's core or the intense heat from lava. All else is eaten away, leaving only rubble and burned cinder, no longer a planet teeming with life and energy. The planet's core remains, dimly lighting the skeletal remains of what was once a planet.

The Earth, no longer a beautiful planet of life and energy, was eaten away. After 2056, there were only seven planets in our solar system.

Chapter 2

The Trip North

It was May 17, 1968. Some argue that 1967 was the Summer of Love, others will say 1968. San Francisco was the heart of the counterculture movement. Young people flocked to California to be part of the hippie lifestyle. These people wore flowers in their hair and danced to the music of the new psychedelic scene gathered in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. The five o'clock news focused on protestors assembled at Fourteenth and Clay Streets in Oakland, blocking the doorways to the military induction center. Young men wearing green Army coats, displaying peace signs and other signs of the times, were filmed being beaten and arrested by Oakland police in the streets. Amazingly, the Hell's Angels bikers, many being World War II and Korean veterans, used cue sticks to assist the police, as tear gas provided a grayish-white background on our black-and-white television sets at home. People's Park in Berkeley was popular with the counterculture people as well and was subject to occasional police raids. Jimi Hendrix, Janice Joplin, The Beatles, and The Rolling Stones rocked away on record players and hi-fis as smiling, long-haired, draft-card-burning, LSD-taking, marijuana-smoking, shoeless people with beads around their necks flashed peace signs to visitors at Haight and Ashbury Streets. This was truly the San Francisco–Berkeley scene and hippie central.

Cruising north on Highway 101, Johnny Fitzpatrick drove his 1959 Volkswagen bus past Petaluma—destination, Mendocino County. Known as Fitz and at age twenty-four, he was a typical hippie. His dirty-blond hair hung down just past his shoulders, flowing over his denim vest, displaying a large circular peace sign embroidered on the back.

Several protest buttons were notably pinned on the front of his vest with an American flag sewn over his heart. Three Miles High blasted from the 8-track tape as he fastened a roach clip to the remainder of a joint he started sometime last night. Directly across was Fitz's longtime girlfriend, Molly Reynolds, who always wore white daisies in her long light-brown hair. Molly had just turned twenty-one and was a controlling Scorpio. Possessive, Molly never liked the way he looked at her best friend, Sadie, also known as Sexy Sadie. She was smoking her own joint and blowing the smoke into Fitz's dog, Bucky's, ear. Bucky didn't mind much. He'd been getting smoke in his ear since he was a six-week-old pup. He loved the buzz. In the back seat sat KJ, whose real name was Kenny Johnson, a.k.a. Killer Joe. He had known Fitz for many years and decided at the last minute to join the others on a trip up north. Fitz and KJ would sometimes jam together late at night in L.A. Fitz invited KJ for the trip, hoping to raise his spirits due to a recent breakup KJ had with his longtime girlfriend. A bota bag swung from a hook on the van's wall. Lifting the bota bag, Sadie took a big gulp, then passed it to Molly. Bucky, the black lab, was sure to lick up any dribble on the floor as a result of unsteady lips in a VW van that bumped along at sixty miles per hour.

Fitz, Molly, KJ, and Sadie had left Big Sur earlier that morning. The three partied late into the night, drinking wine and smoking selected California homegrown. The four had slight hangovers, but it was nothing a joint couldn't cure. They had left L.A. two days earlier and were driving to an old friend's commune near the coast. His friend's name was Clarence Budd, but everyone called him Doctor Budd because he knew anything and everything about marijuana growth and cultivation. Doc Budd also likes psychedelics, always having the best of everything, especially acid and mescaline. Doc Budd, or Doc as he liked to be called, had invited Fitz and company to the commune for the big annual Springtime Festival held every May. Located within what is now known as The Emerald Triangle due to the many marijuana crops grown there, Doc called his commune of sixty acres Alderville. There were far more redwoods on the property than alders, but he didn't like the name Redwoodville. There were a few scrub oaks too. A recluse, Budd, a Korean War veteran, had purchased the old logging camp from the state ten years earlier. Nestled in the forest, near the town of Comptche in Mendocino County, the village had a population of 145. With the additional people living at the Alderville commune, the population rose unofficially to 163.

The VW bus pulled off the Highway 101 onto a gravel road, which led northwest, up into the coastal hills. Sunlight streaked between giant redwood trees under skies of blue. Huge ferns decorated the forest, while babbling streams cascaded down from hills. Coming to a fork in the road, a weathered red wooden sign indicated which direction to proceed. A hastily drawn sign with the name Alderville and an arrow pointed the way up a primitive road. A short distance later, Fitz discovered several cars parked near a big red barn. Fitz pulled his VW alongside a pale-blue Corvair, then let Bucky out. A Bob Dylan song echoed from inside the barn behind a crooked row of blue porta potties. Happy people with flowers in their hair danced to Dylan's harmonica. Barefoot women wearing long, flowing granny dresses danced near the opened doors of the barn. Skinny long-haired men wearing green Army surplus jackets and wearing protest buttons danced with the women as chickens scurried in all directions. Psychedelic artwork and designs decorated the inner walls of the barn. Some hippies wore bell-bottom pants, but most wore faded Levi's with many worn patches. Naked toddlers danced happily in circles, while goats jumped and frolicked to the music of Dylan. The ducks and chickens pecked in the nearby grass as Bucky romped with other dogs, wearing red bandanas around their necks. There were tables offering preserves, herbs, alfalfa sprouts, jams, and dried banana peels. Tie-dye shirts and face painting were very popular, as people stood and waited in the beautiful California sunshine. Molly and Sadie made their way to one of many portable outhouses as children, some clad, some not, darted and played tag, running from behind one porta potty to another. The heavy odor of marijuana prevalently hung in this area, combined with the smell of chemical toilets and freshly baked organic muffins.

Fitz and KJ walked through the crowd of about thirty people outside the barn toward the small log cabin a short distance uphill. The front porch was crowded with people surrounded by thick marijuana smoke. There were people seated, standing, or lounging around, both in the cabin and out on the deck. Hippies with smiling faces shared blasts of wine from one of many bota bags circulating on the porch. Sometimes someone wouldn't secure the plug in the bota bag correctly, causing the next in line to receive a face load of wine jetted from the bag. Joints, pipes, and roaches were passed from one happy face to the next, accompanied by laughter and smoke.

Fitz peered through the opened door, giving his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark. Scanning from left to right, Fitz located the good doctor seated on a couch. Doc Budd was intimidating. He stood at 6'2, weighed 270, was hairy (he had been mistaken for a creature called big foot" on many occasions), sported a long bushy hair with a hint of red, had a full beard—which was never trimmed—and wore amber-tinted, metal-framed glasses, hiding his piercing green eyes. He was known to be a philosopher, botanist, and naturalist, but his favorite subject was American history. He wore a paisley shirt covered by a leather vest, and his hair was smashed down by his genuine Australian hat made of crocodile. Sometimes when the wind blew heavily from the west, Doc would find it necessary to fasten his chin strap to keep from losing his precious hat. Fitz watched as Doc sucked up a huge hit from a big bamboo bong.

Looking up, Doc's bloodshot eyes focused on a familiar face. Doc yelled, Fitz! as he exhaled an incredible amount of smoke. As Doc coughed hoarsely, he approached Fitz and greeted him with a firm bear hug. KJ was introduced by Fitz, and the three of them walked out to a vacant picnic table under the shadow of a towering redwood. The girls made their way over, and once again, the joints were lit and the bota bag passed. They were joined by a nice couple from San Francisco, who introduced themselves as Herbie and Vicki. Herbie had very long hair ending near his waist, wasn't handsome, and spoke very little. Vicki seemed to be only half of Herbie's age, but they seemed to get along well together. Herbie carried a ukulele case covered with many decals of places in the Bay Area. The annual festival included short plays, dance, and music—all performed on a plywood stage constructed near the barn. Doc asked Herbie if he would be willing to perform with his ukulele after dark. Herbie smiled an unusual smile, replying he'd be happy to perform later in the evening, but right now, he just wanted to party with his new friends in new surroundings.

Hours later, after the evening entertainment activities, Doc escorted Fitz, Molly, Sadie, and KJ past the Balling Tree and onto a trail leading over a small hill, where beautiful ferns grew in abundance. At the top of the hill, a small meadow appeared below, surrounded by forests of redwood and alder trees. As they walked closer, the sounds of cascading water from a nearby stream broke the quietness of the forest along with an occasional whoo from a nearby spotted owl. There was a picnic table and firepit under a tree overlooking the clear cascading stream. The five had carried their bota bags, drug paraphernalia, and blankets to this lovely spot. Bucky performed a security check, making sure no wild animals were going to bother the party and marking his spot every few feet.

A fire snapped and crackled, burning under a beautiful starry night. Everyone was feeling mellow, peaceful, and happy when Doc spoke up. Well now, are you ready for this?

With curiosity, the