Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 10…

(Author’s note)… We are going to be meeting a lot of new alien races in this chapter, as well as some new members of races you would already know about… you know… if you have read the first three novels in my action/humor science fiction series: The Otherwhere Chronicles… available over there—> in my sidebar—>

One challenge of writing science fiction is coming up with new ideas for aliens. There is so  much science fiction out there now that this presents a real challenge. I had to invent dozens of races and hundreds of characters for these books. I think I did okay. Occasionally, I resorted to some silliness, such as with my alien race called the Morlans, which I describe as; ‘your basic original Star Trek series aliens, short, blue, with little brow ridges’. This is the race of tech wizards to which our friend Gup belongs, and we are meeting a few more of them now… which brings us to another challenge of science fiction writing… making up cool alien names.

I might get around to posting the list of alien races. They give a little description of each race, their main physical features, and some details on their temperament and outlook and so on. Or I might not, since very few people are reading this. I will, however, post some more of the pictures I made of some of the aliens.


Chapter Ten

 

As Arthur sat in the ward room drinking a cup of coffee, he took stock of his Captains as they entered the slightly-too-small room. He was struck by an interesting fact; no one, as they went about their daily lives, looked remotely like they did when they were going to war. Take the average nineteen-year-old kid you have known. Now picture him in a helmet, with camouflage paint smeared on his face, and a haunted, feral look in his eyes. He is dressed in combat gear complete with body armor, festooned with grenades and rifle clips and a large knife. He is carrying a weapon designed to kill in his hands, and looks more than prepared to use it as he surveys the battlefield around him. Would you even recognize him?

Well, the same holds true for most races, it turns out. Aliens that Arthur had always thought of as peaceful and friendly he now came to see in a whole new light. The first to arrive were two pairs of Helper-Friends. There were two Brain-Friends and two Scout-Friends. The Brain-Friends looked very similar to Mr. Toad, being one and a half-feet-tall, and bright blue. And the Scout-Friends definitely reminded Arthur of his friend Gollum, being three-feet-tall, pale green, and very thin. But the four little beings were certainly not dressed as his friends were prone to dressing.

To begin with, they were all carrying side arms, energy pistols of some sort, in flapped holsters hung on belts covered with full-looking pouches. They all wore armored shirts that covered their arms and torsos. These shirts had a camouflage function that mimicked the background colors, as did the sturdy helmets they all wore.

The two Brain-Friends hopped over and saluted Arthur. “Our Masters have sent us as their emissaries. We hope you do not mind,” said one of the little blue warriors. Did I mention that all four of the Helper-Friends were wearing long, thin swords at their sides? If so, I apologize. Arthur knew it was difficult for the Slugs to move quickly without the ignominy of being loaded onto sleds. He told the Brain Friends that he appreciated the efficiency of this plan.

“May we speak to you quickly on a personal matter, Admiral?” asked the other Brain-Friend. Arthur told him to go ahead. “We would not bother you with something so trivial at such a time, but since we are waiting for the others…” The Brain-Friend gestured around the almost empty room and Arthur nodded for him to proceed. “We wish to thank you for the honor you have done the Helper-Friends. You have given us the chance to have our own names, our own identities, and there is no gift greater.”

Arthur was touched, and determined not to make a big deal out of it, but then one of the Scout-Friends blurted out, “We know you have befriended our kind. Please, is it too much to ask, would you give us our own names now?” The two Brain-Friends cast scathing glances at the Scout-Friend for his rudeness, but then they turned back to Arthur, looking pathetically hopeful and bobbing their heads up and down.

Arthur felt tremendously honored and just a little cheesy, but he meant it seriously when he said, “Noble Brain-Friends, I name you Merry,” he said to one, “and Pippin,” he said to the other. Then he dubbed the pair of Scout-Friends as Sam and Bilbo. And he told them to give the names Legolas and Gimli to the two Hand-Friends he knew would be back on the ships with the Muccasim Captains.

“You honor us greatly to choose names from the same great work of human fiction as you chose for your friends,” intoned Merry. All four nodded solemnly and Arthur joined in.

At that point, they were joined by two Vaccurians. Truth to tell, Arthur had always found the eight-foot-tall silver insectoids rather intimidating, and he certainly would never have wanted to make one angry. His friend Skip, the cargo chief on the Hub, was a pleasant and polite being, but Arthur had seen him lift a crate the size of a storage shed and weighing 8,000 pounds, in his four frontal arms, and it hadn’t seemed at all difficult. These two Vaccurians were downright frightening.

Since Vaccurians already went through life wearing natural armor, the armor these Captains wore seemed almost excessively redundant. But Arthur did think the extra spikes were a nice touch. The helmets they wore over their shiny, multi-eyed heads looked both modern and ancient, as if someone had crossbred a knight’s helmet with a fighter pilot’s. There were also armored boxes over both Captains’ forward shoulder joints that looked to contain missiles and energy weapons. If the Vaccurian ship captains were this well armed, Arthur could only speculate on what their assault soldiers must be packing. The Captains introduced themselves as Wallaparmondiosus and Fallagamisstorypop, respectively.

Following close behind the formidable Vaccurians were four figures that almost caused Arthur to leap to his feet and yell for the Marine security detail. In marched a quartet of fearsome Gomai, to come to attention before Arthur and give him a salute which consisted of shoving their tightly-clenched right fists straight up into the air. Arthur realized that he didn’t even know the makeup of his allied fleet, though he recalled being told that there were eleven races and thirty ships. I didn’t even know the Gomai existed in our reality, he paused to consider. He forced himself to calmly meet the disconcerting gaze of their crystal-clear eyes as he returned the salute in the human manner.

These Gomai wore armored coats of fine chain mail like the assassins did, but they wore armor leggings, boots, and helmets as well. They did not carry weapons as far as Arthur could see. The four Captains went to sit at the table without saying a word.

The next to arrive were a Tinnjjee and a Tarry. The Tinnjjee also wore armor over his already-armored crustacean body, and a helmet as well. He also wore an energy gun on a clip at the side of his armored vest. His repulsive mouthparts moved like power tools as he said, “Herro, Admirar, I am ship reader Rorrander. Now we fight the Keerar, eh?”

With the crab-like Tinnjjee was a Tarry. Arthur’s friend Mof, the head cook at the saloon, had always maintained that he had been horribly burned to the point that his people considered him to be hideous. But the Tarry Captain, who also looked like a five-foot-tall, hairless, fat and orange melted Buddha, had nothing about him to suggest that he hadn’t also been the victim of some tragic conflagration. This was Arthur’s opinion, not mine, and it was more a matter of human taste than anything else. This Tarry, however, instead of an apron, wore a complete protective suite of the same bright orange color as his skin.

Four Bats followed these Captains. You are familiar enough with the Trexes that I will not bother to describe nor introduce them by name. Though I suppose I could go far enough to say that they were wearing very medieval chain mail and breastplates decorated with gold scrollwork and precious stones that matched their helmets and shields. They also carried long fencing-style swords and guns at their belts. The little group consisted, not surprisingly, of two Princes, an Earl and a Duke, and they were all sure that Arthur was thrilled and honored to have them fighting at his side.

Next in the parade of captains came a Morlan, short and blue like Arthur’s friend Gup. He wore a body suite of color-shifting material that reminded Arthur of a light show, but did make the fellow very hard to focus on. He also had a belt and crossed bandoliers loaded with gadgets and weapons, and there were strange goggles perched on his forehead. He introduced himself as War Officer Gorap.

Gorap was followed by two Wasp Whips. These tall, thin individuals wore no armor, but they carried energy rifles strapped across their backs and belts holding large cleaver-like knives and what looked like grenades. They introduced themselves as Captains Corallor and Bayol, and launched immediately into an apology for the antics of the teen-delinquent pirates. Arthur politely told them to forget about it.

Into the room trooped six beings of a type Arthur had never seen before. They looked at first and even second glance, like four-foot-tall fish that walked upright, balancing on two rear fins and a finny tail. They had scales of iridescent bluish-purple and huge, round eyes below and to either side of a round, puckery mouth that rested near the top of their heads. They wore chest plates of black scale armor and carried bizarre boomerang-like weapons on their belts. Their short forearms had thin, webbed hands that had once obviously been fins as well.

“We are the Skalarin,” informed one of the Captains in passable English. “We come to fight with six of our hunter ships.”

“An honor,” returned Arthur, not bothering to listen too carefully to the six names because he knew he wouldn’t remember them anyway. He was, as he liked to say, good with faces and bad with names.

The Skalarin were followed by three Reavers, one of whom was female. Arthur exchanged the war hand signs with them because it was useful for transmitting information quickly and efficiently. The three patrol ship leaders were named Toovo, Rudis, and the female was Rovan. He greeted them in their own language. The Reavers wore no armor. They didn’t believe in armor. They believed in weapons and training, and they were well equipped with those.

Captain Browne alerted Arthur that the Xxo fleet had arrived and were sending their representative.

Four new aliens entered the room, aliens with which Arthur was completely unfamiliar. They were all close to seven-feet-tall, with short legs, two of them each, and very long torsos. They all had four arms, the bottom pair being short and strong, and the upper pair being long and thin. Their two blue eyes were set very close together on their round heads above very tiny noses and mouths. They wore no armor or indeed any clothes at all. But what really set these beings apart was the fact that their bones were on the outside of their skin with the pink and white flesh and muscle visible between them as if they had been turned inside out. Small strands of pink and white crept over their bones, and the whole effect was rather disturbing, like watching skinned hogs walking about in a butcher shop. Their only adornments were purse-like bags slung over their shoulders.

The newcomers introduced themselves as the Forthisa and gave their names, which Arthur proceeded to forget even more rapidly than he otherwise would have, because of the four new figures that entered the room to stand, one behind each of the beings who had preceded them. These beings, only half the size of those they stood behind, were fur covered, friendly-looking fellows, with heads that reminded Arthur of English Bulldogs. They wore only loincloths, and were all burdened with parcels and bags strapped about themselves.

Arthur waited politely for an introduction, but none was forthcoming, so he finally asked the Forthisa Captains who their companions were. One of the Captains admitted, reluctantly, that the Chasa, the newly arrived individuals, were their slaves.

“I thought slavery was universally frowned upon by all civilized races,” Arthur said in some surprise.

“Well, yes,” explained the walking anatomy lesson, “we have been trying to free them for centuries, but they simply will not have it. They say they don’t want the responsibility.”

Arthur leaned to one side to establish eye contact with one of the slaves, who nodded enthusiastically and gave a snaggletoothed grin with a mouth that, though large, didn’t seem quite big enough to hold all its teeth. “Very true, my Lord,” said the fellow, who was so cute Arthur wanted to go scratch him behind his droopy ears. Arthur was trying to decide if he should make some sort of comment when the Xxo Battle Commander arrived and the moment just passed.

Since Arthur already knew the Xxo, whose name was Ooo, from his meeting with the Council, their greeting was brief. So now was the time to go into a strategy and tactics briefing combined with a unifying pep talk. Arthur walked to the head of the conference table, thought about what to say, and realized it was time to admit the truth, at least to himself. He had nothing.

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Making Art’s art even more arty… part 8…

a 1

I know, you have no idea what that is… except that it is awesome!

a 2

There is a reason that you can’t tell what it is.

a 3

I mean, yeah, obviously it is more of those special, digital effects I like to use…

a 4

But you can’t tell what the original image was.

a 5

Okay, here is what I did…

a 6

I took this photo… yes, it is the paper weight that was the very first thing I made in my glass blowing class…

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And then I used the ‘kaleidoscope’ effect on the photo…

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Now, I could have used the same effect in the moving version, that gives you a little GIF…  but I haven’t figured out how to add the other filter effects to a moving image… because that would be way cool…

a 9

But even so…

a 10

I like the way these turned out.

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The real reason Roy Moore likes to dress like a cowboy…

a 1

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Getting in the mood for Christmas… Old, recycled posts of the holiday season… part 6…

A poem… yeah, I know, many of you see the word ‘poem’ and you run screaming… but this one is funny… and it is about Christmas… and why I might be way too obsessed with this blogging thing…

Family gathered for Christmas, a brightly burning log

I try to get in the spirit of things but I’m thinking about my blog

The kid’s have opened their presents, there’s booze in my eggnog

I sit and smile and nod a lot, but I’m thinking about my blog

When I go to workout at the gym, and on the treadmill take a jog

My mind is running to new ideas to post upon my blog

When I am in the backyard, and tossing the ball for my dog

I am also tossing ideas around to entertain you on the blog

When I’m in a drunken stupor from too much rum or pirate grog

I clear away the cobwebs by pondering my blog

When the road of life is muddied and I am mired in the bog

I find the path made easier by thinking about my blog

When my body is wracked by fever, my mind is in a fog

The only clarity I can find is thinking about my blog

As through the turmoil and confusion of everyday life I slog

My brain is trudging ceaselessly through ideas for my blog

In the vastness of this universe, I am just one tiny cog

And the place where I fit in the best is right here on my blog…

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Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 9…

(Author’s note)… Things are not looking too good for our hero. Yes, he managed to avoid getting blown up by one of his best friends… who turned out to be another copy of his friend, sent over from the other dimension. And he did get the first fleet of enemy ships that came through the gate to switch sides without any loss of life. But he also learned that the fleet now gathering on the other side of the gate is ten times the size of the first one, and there is another fleet forming that is ten times bigger than that one. And don’t forget, most of the warships of the allied fleets have been sabotaged.

If it was anybody else but me… I mean, not this me, the me from the other dimension, now aided by yet another me from yet another reality… I would be really worried right now.


Chapter Nine

 

As they waited for the fleets to assemble Arthur asked every question he could think to ask that might be useful. First, he wanted to know more about Fahh’s plans. The other Arthur was not overly helpful in that regard.

What he said was, “It’s not like the Emperor takes me into his confidence. They only found me after you messed up that Glassaway guy’s plans. I was in boot camp to be a sailor in the Black Fleet. That is what they do with conquered people. You fight or build for them, or you die. But as you caused more and more trouble they began to train me as an officer. Then, just a week or so ago, they began to take even more of an interest in my career, so to speak.”

“Right around the time I was foiling their assassins,” Arthur told himself.

“I don’t know anything about that,” said the grand admiral once removed. “But it was like they were studying me. Seeing if there was anything special about me or something. To be honest, it was only a few days ago that they put me in charge of the fleet.”

“But you must have seen some of Fahh’s preparations,” insisted our Arthur.

“I know the second wave is gathering at the gate. And I know it was ten times bigger than the first wave,” the grand admiral who wasn’t sure if he was still a grand admiral said unhappily.

“30,000 ships,” Arthur spat out, “are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah, and they are manned, or crewed I guess I should say, by the best of Fahh’s conquered races. And there are lots of Keelar aboard those ships to keep an eye on things.”

The Keelar, Arthur thought desperately, they don’t like electricity. He had a sudden crazy idea.

“The third wave,” continued the turncoat Arthur, not realizing the other Arthur was distracted, “will be ten times bigger again. 300,000 ships, all full of Keelar.”

Arthur was so excited he didn’t even panic at this information. “Hold that thought,” he said, and then to Gup he added, “Get me the Orion on screen, and make it as secure as possible.” When Captain Hull’s face appeared on the screen he asked where she was.

“If you had a window, you could see me waving at you,” said the Captain with a smile.

“I need you to run a little errand for me,” said Arthur, returning the smile. “You need to zip over to Zitara and pick up a cargo. Hopefully a large cargo. I will have Mr. Toad call them and set it up, and get you a priority run through the Nexus Points.”

“Very well, Sir,” Captain Hulls replied, and her image vanished from the screen.

Arthur made a quick call to Mr. Toad to set things in motion, and then he returned to his questioning of the other admiral. He was interrupted by Rubar before he had a chance to speak. “Sir,” said the battle-hardened mercenary, “the Keelar are beginning to stir.”

“Admiral,” said Arthur to the other admiral, hoping that using his rank would show that he trusted his other self, “would you have some of your crew place the prisoners in your brig?”

The other Arthur turned to his first officer, who proceeded to carry out the orders. The crew members assigned to this task were not overly gentle, Arthur couldn’t help but notice.

Arthur had Gup put the two sub-commanders back on screen. “I am bringing my robots back,” he told them. “Please have the Keelar prisoners confined to your brigs and kept under guard.” They also seemed more than happy to obey theses orders. Arthur transported Number Two and Number Three back to the little spy ship. You have probably figured out by now that to transport machinery or other inanimate objects was a rather simple procedure, as long as you knew exactly where you were sending them, and their exact location when bringing them back. However, live beings needed to be in contact either with a remote unit or someone holding a remote unit.

At last Arthur had the opportunity to continue talking to himself, if you see what I mean. “Can you tell me about the gate? How does it work? Can we go through it in the other direction?”

“All I know is,” replied his slightly distorted reflection, “it has something to do with those transport machines. And ships have to go through one at a time. Oh, and big ships won’t fit through the tube thing.”

The ‘tube thing’ must be the husk of the dead Pickle, Arthur figured. Then he figured something else. “Then Fahh made yet another mistake. He concentrated his sabotage on our big ships, figuring there would be a space battle here. He never figured we would be crazy enough to try to attack him on his home turf.”

“Well there you go,” said the admiral in slimming black, which was also one of our Arthur’s favorite expressions.

“You have certainly been a font of useful information,” said the Arthur we have come to know.

“As you so cleverly pointed out,” retorted the other, “I am here mostly for comic relief. And my first gig apparently didn’t go nearly as well as yours.”

Arthur felt bad for the guy and decided to cut him some slack. “I am expecting great things from you in our little revolution. Now I am going to take my guys and get out of your hair.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Oh, I miss the hair. We look good with long hair. Get your fleet turned around, Admiral, and prepare to take the fight to the enemy.”

And in one of the more unusual sights ever seen, two Arthurs came to attention and saluted each other.

“The Obama has arrived with its fleet units,” said Number One in the Warlord’s voice. “The Xxo fleet will be arriving in twenty minutes.” Arthur and his friends, along with Number One and all the gear they had brought across, transported back to the spy ship.

Arthur told the Warlord to draw up close to the Obama, but to take care as the spy ship would not appear on their screens. Once again using as secure a line as possible, he contacted Captain Browne and asked her to have all the captains come at once to the Obama for a council of war, and told her he would be joining her shortly. Then he simply transported directly to the bridge of the warship.

As he flickered into existence in a new place, he was impressed by his reception. By the time the transport was done, Lt. Sarota and four heavily-armed Marines had him surrounded. He gave a chuckle and turned to Captain Browne. “I really do like monkeys,” he told her. The Captain ordered the Marines to stand down. Then she crossed the bridge to shake Arthur’s hand.

“Now that is how visitors arriving in an unexpected manner should be greeted on a warship’s bridge,” Arthur said proudly.

“I am glad you approve, Admiral,” said the Captain seriously.

Arthur also shook hands with the Marine Lieutenant, and congratulated him as well. The young officer looked pleased at the praise. “It is always interesting when you are around, Sir,” he said with a straight face.

“I do like to keep you on your toes,” said Arthur equally deadpan. “I know how you Marines love a challenge.” This got a smile from the younger man.

“The Captains are flying over via more conventional modes of transport,” Captain Browne informed Arthur. “They will be gathering in the ward room momentarily.”

“Then lead on, my good Captain,” said Arthur graciously. If the good Captain was harboring any doubts or resentments over his rapid, even unprecedented promotion, she had the good grace to conceal it. If Arthur could have read her mind, he would have been vastly surprised and a little amused to find that Captain Browne was actually thrilled that Arthur had been put in command. She wasn’t sure how, but Arthur Blacke had a weird way of overcoming obstacles and opposition. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. There was just something about the guy.

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Making Art’s art even more arty… part 7…

a 1

What is that? Some microscopic, radiated organism? A protozoa on LSD? No… not even close.

a 2

I am, once again, using some digital magic on a photo of one of the vases… the very first vase, to be specific… that I made in my glass blowing class.

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Yes, it is true that most vase have only one opening for the flowers and the water…

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A two-ended vase would be awkward to use, what with the water and the flowers not wanting to stay inside it.

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Fear not! The vase in question does indeed have only one opening, located, conventionally, and conveniently, at the top.

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But I put the photo into Photoshop, and messed around with it a little.

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And then I cast my digital spells upon that new image.

a 8

Because I have crack squirrels living inside my head.

 

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Getting in the mood for Christmas… Old, recycled posts of the holiday season… part 5…

Some thoughts on Christmas and Jesus by a guy who isn’t religious…

I guess one thing that always bothers me about the new, more militant religious conservative Christians, is their complete failure to grasp the message that the person they claim to follow was really trying to teach his followers. Not once, as far as I can remember, did Jesus ever stop and ask somebody what religion they followed before he offered to help them. And considering the fact that he started off with only 12 guys who could even be considered his followers, that pretty much means that everybody he helped was a non-Christian. I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but the way he got new followers was to show them compassion and love regardless of what they believed. Maybe that was the whole idea of his teachings. To show so much compassion and love to other people that they became intrigued by him and ended up wanting to be more like him. And then there is the whole ‘turn the other cheek’ message which seems to get overlooked in the rush to find more judgmental biblical quotes to use to tell everybody else how evil they are.
And when you get right down to it, the only people Jesus ever got so mad at that he threw a hissy fit and ended up flipping over tables was a bunch of rich money lenders… or what we today would call bankers… something else to think about… if you are into that whole ‘thinking’ thing.

*****

I was raised Episcopalian, and, although I am now pretty much completely nonreligious, I have read the bible… which is more than a lot of too-religious people can say.

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Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 8…

(Author’s note)… I don’t really mind that no one is reading this, or leaving any comments. I am mostly doing it so that I can finish the editing process on this, the fourth book in the action/humor science fiction series: The Otherwhere Chronicles.

That being said, a little feedback would be nice. I mean, Arthur… not me, the one… (Yes, I  know there are now two me’s from those other two dimensions, but I mean the one who is the hero in all the books)… has managed to not only stop the leading fleet of the enemy invasion from the other dimension, but he even got them to change sides. All without anyone being killed. And he just makes it all up as he goes along. Not bad for a lazy, sarcastic, old guy, who shirks responsibility and never asked to be put in charge of the defense of an entire universe. No, he isn’t like any of the classic heroes of literature. He isn’t Frodo or Conan, Iron Man or Superman. I suppose you might say that he is a little like Winston Churchill… in the sense that he is over 50, not in the best shape, and never gives up. I don’t think the world needs another King Arthur. I think they need this Arthur.


Chapter Eight

 

After a few moments of silence, the collage of little faces began speaking, but to each other, not to Arthur. The conversation seemed to be split evenly, with half the captains asking hopeful questions like, “do you think we could do it?” and “do we even stand a chance?” The other comments were more along the lines of; “they will slaughter the human race if we try it,” or “we don’t stand a chance against the Black Fleet.”

One of the captured crewmen turned uncomfortably to Arthur and told him, “You have to understand, Sir, that we have been occupied by the Keelar since 2011. That’s fourteen years of having our spirits crushed. We got pounded pretty hard when they took Earth. They dropped small asteroids and bombs on us from orbit. We didn’t even have a single ship to fight back with. And since then, any sign of rebellion has been crushed without mercy.”

Arthur smiled sympathetically at the man. He decided there was only one way to swing support in his favor. He shouted at the camera until the captains ceased their chatter. “I am not asking you to abandon your families,” he told them. “I am giving you a chance to set them all free. We are going to combine our fleets and take the fight to your dimension. We will protect your Earth and take it back from the Black Empire. Everyone hates Fahh. They will all join us once they see he can be beaten.”

The little heads continued their arguments. Arthur threw in one last plea. “Come on, people, did the Americans believe they could beat the English in our revolution? Did the British think they could really hold out against Hitler? Good can triumph over evil if all the good people rise up.” He realized that he might be going out on a rather slender limb here. Maybe there was no revolution or Adolf Hitler in their reality. But somehow, he began to reach them. He had broken through the fear to the anger they held inside. And the hope, let us not forget the hope.

‘Can we do it?’ became ‘what if we really could do it?’ which morphed into ‘maybe we should give it a try.’ Arthur watched the little faces on the screen in rapt fascination. It was like some bizarre game show. Hollywood Squares of the stars – literally. Public opinion was swinging his way as the captains psyched each other up. Sometimes one of the little faces in the little squares would swell as one captain or another leaned in closer to his screen to see who he was talking to.

But at last there were voices yelling, “we are with you!” and “death to Fahh!” Arthur even could have sworn he heard a “Long live Arthur Blacke.” He felt an unexpected flood of pride shoot through him, but it was tinged with dread. He was taking on an awesome burden. He didn’t want to let these people or their families down.

“Gup,” Arthur said quietly, “get me a secure channel to Captain Browne on the Obama.” Gup didn’t bother to answer, but the screen flicked from many little heads to one large one. “Hello, Captain, are you glad to see me?” Arthur asked innocently.

Captain Browne’s face lit up in a very nice smile. “I was very relieved to learn that you were still amongst the living,” the Captain admitted.

“Well, you are amongst the minority in that opinion, it sometimes seems to me,” Arthur replied with a laugh. “Captain, the first wave of the invasion force has decided to join the good guys. The fleet is crewed by humans, and was led by another me. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes, Sir, Admiral, I had a long talk with Captain Hulls,” said the Captain.

“Very well, Captain,” said Arthur primly, please contact the Xxo fleet and have them rendezvous with our new allies at our present location. Then head this way yourself with all the speed you have. I want to put all our ships together. We are taking the fight to the enemy.” Arthur was about to sign off when he remembered something. “By the way, Captain, did I ever mention that I like monkeys?”

“I am very relieved to hear it, Admiral,” replied the Captain happily. “We are on our way. Signing off.” The screen switched back to the tiny talking heads.

“All right, people, are you with me?” Arthur shouted, to be met with a chorus of ferocious yells and heart-swelling cheers. “Let me talk to my sub-commanders. You will get your new orders just as soon as we are joined by our two other fleets. Then we are heading back to the gate. Fahh is going to be sorry he ever messed with us.” The little heads began to disappear while two squares got progressively bigger as the screen had room to increase the display. And then there were just two big heads.

Arthur glanced over at his tentacle-enshrined near twin. “What do you say, dude? Are you with us or not?”

“Uh huh,” said the grand admiral through the tentacle tip. Arthur waved for Ooox to release the man, who walked over to join him.

“I hope like hell you know what you’re doing,” said the admiral who had just lost his entire fleet without firing a single shot.

“How could you, of all people, ever doubt me?” Arthur asked with an annoying amount of innocent sincerity. He turned back to the two faces on the screen. One face was that of an intense dark haired man, forty or so years of age. The other was an attractive blond haired woman with a surfer’s tan. Her age was impossible to determine.

“And you are?” Arthur prompted.

“Sub-commander Judy Shafter,” said the woman.

“Joey Scarfone,” said the man, pronouncing his last name as ‘scarphoney’. “I sure hope you know what you are doing,” the sub-commander went on to say.

“Right, I get it, it’s risky,” Arthur retorted. “But if you think you are ever going to get a better shot at getting rid of the Black Empire, you are sadly mistaken.” The captain lapsed into grim silence.

“I have grandchildren back on our Earth,” said Captain Shafter. That took Arthur by surprise. She sure didn’t look old enough for that.

But he had an answer ready. “That’s why we are going back through the gate as soon as our other units link up with us.”

“Yes,” Captain Shafter replied in a very dry voice. “The ‘strong forces’ you were going to beat us with. We have them on our screens now. There seems to be only about three hundred ships all told. We outnumbered you ten to one.”

“Right,” said Arthur with a smile. “And now you are on our side and nobody got hurt. So you ought to see how good I really am.”

It was hard for either sub-commander to argue with those facts. They signed off to await his orders.

Damn, Arthur thought fervently to himself, I hope I really do know what I’m doing.

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Getting in the mood for Christmas… Old, recycled posts of the holiday season… part 4…

Some silly homemade Christmas ornaments and a Santa tiki… yeah, I said a Santa tiki…

What, you don’t have a hand-carved Santa tiki???

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Yeah, I have a Santa tiki… well, my wife does, because I gave it to her for Christmas last year… no… that isn’t the only thing I gave her. And I did carve it myself… so…

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And on my Christmas tree, I have little bears made out of cookie dough. My kids baked them when they were little… but I added the tie dye outfits…

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I also have a Cat in the Hat ornament that I made. I drew it, cut it out, inked and colored it, and mounted it on wood…

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And I made this cute little mouse in a present picture that is inside a clear plastic ornament. I should have taken a picture of the back, because it is the same picture but from the rear…

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Homemade ornaments feel more like the spirit of Christmas to me.

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I know, I really went overboard with the tie dye theme during that cookie dough project. The glass one is a fun project that families can do together. You just buy the clear glass ornaments and then pour paint inside them and swirl it around.

a 1 a 4Anyway, thanks for sharing a little Christmas art… and love… with me.

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Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 7…

(Author’s note)… I really do think that if you give this, the fourth novel in my action/humor science fictions series: ‘The Otherwhere Chronicles’ a chance, you might find yourself wanting to know what happened in the first three books… available over there—> in my sidebar—> just to learn how that other me got himself into this predicament involving hundreds of alien species, an invasion from another dimension, huge fleets of space ships, yet another me from that other dimension, and all the rest of what is going on right now.

But I am totally okay with it if you want to just follow along, wondering who all these people are, and how they got there, and why they are doing what they are doing.


Chapter Seven

 

Arthur turned back to the other Arthur. Then he changed his mind and spun back to face the corner where he knew the bug was hovering. “Gup, I need you and the Qualm over here.” He had already shown his team how to use the captured remote units.

As the two new figures were transporting and the Reavers were gathering up the Keelar’s weapons, Arthur turned back once again to his alter ego. “You are going to help me whether you want to or not,” he declared to the longer-haired version of himself. “Because I have a tech expert and a Qualm that can read minds, so if you lie to me, I will know it.”

Now, flanked by his crack interrogation team, Arthur began snapping questions at the other Arthur. “How many Keelar are on this ship?”

The other Arthur had never even heard of a Qualm. He decided to test the waters. “There are five hundred of them.”

“He lies,” moaned the gauzy Qualm, seemingly offended that the human would do so.

The Arthur in the snappy black uniform looked put out. He tried again anyway. “There are…”

“He lies,” wailed the Qualm, not waiting for the answer.

At that moment, Number One the robot began to speak. Strangely, he spoke in the voice of the Warlord, and Arthur realized that the Warlord was using the spy craft’s communication system to send directly through the robot, making a very secure communications channel. “Arthur,” said the robot, “we will be entering Earth’s solar system in ten minutes.”

And just like that, in a panic over running out of time, Arthur came up with a more direct solution to his problem. “I said you were going to help us whether you wanted to or not,” he told his other self. To the robot he said, “Warlord, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir,” came the reply.

“I need the projector I showed you. The small one. Give it to one of the Reavers, along with another of the transport remotes. And send Ooox with him.” Arthur was excited by his new plan and immediately began to put it in motion. As soon as the Reaver delivered the small device that Izalie had used to befuddle him when they first met, Arthur put it to use. He followed Tarlek Da’s instructions, pointing one end at the duplicate Arthur. A green web of bright lines of light shot out of the mechanism and scanned up and down over the grand admiral. Arthur circled the other Arthur just to be sure he scanned him from all angles. Then he clipped the device to his belt and pushed a button.

There were gasps of astonishment from around the bridge. There were now two grand admirals, facing each other, as if some one had placed a mirror in front of the original. The fake grand admiral smirked at his counterpart.

“Gup,” said the counterfeit grand admiral, “can you patch me through to the whole fleet? I want them to be able to see me.”

Gup glanced around at the different consoles, and then walked over to stand in front of one of them. He studied it for a moment then said, “No problem, Sir.”

“Ooox,” Arthur said to the mammoth Xxo, “I want you to make sure the real grand admiral doesn’t try to interrupt my little speech.”

The big Xxo gave a growling sound and propelled himself closer to the human in question. He moved behind him and wrapped multiple lower and upper tentacles around the other Arthur until he looked like a puffy green mummy. Arthur watched as one tentacle tip slithered over the familiar mouth, but Oox left the eyes uncovered. Arthur grinned facetiously into them. “Last chance, dude,” he said, “Once I go on the air, you are going to become very unpopular.”

The other Arthur mumbled something into the tough, fibrous tentacle. Arthur signaled the Xxo to release his mouth. “There are twenty Keelar on this ship,” the second Arthur said. “You got all of them. Two other ships have twenty-Keelar contingents.”

“Ah, the two sub-command vessels on the outer flanks, I presume?” Arthur asked.

The not-quite-an-imposter looked startled, and then tried to nod.

“Have one of your people show Gup how to access the blueprints or diagrams or whatever of those two ships,” Arthur commanded. Two minutes later Arthur knew where all the Keelar were. He beamed robots Number Two and Number Three onto the enemy ships that contained Keelars, placing the robots in corridors outside of the cabins occupied by the Keelar soldiers. Then Arthur simply ordered the robots to enter the Keelar’s quarters and deploy electro-nets until the Keelar were ready to surrender.

“Coming up on the edge of the system, Arthur,” said Number One using the Warlord’s voice.

Arthur turned back to his other self. “What is the name of this ship?” he asked reasonably.

“The Keelar don’t name their ships,” came the reply. “We just call it the command ship. The sub-command ships are called one and two.”

“Are there any transport machines on any of these ships?” Arthur wanted to know.

“No way,” responded the tentacle-wrapped Arthur.

The Qualm believed him.

“Wrap him up, Ooox,” said Arthur, then he turned back to Gup. “Okay, let me talk to the fleet. But make it a low-power broadcast or a secure comm. I don’t want anyone else to hear this.”

Gup consulted briefly with the enemy crewman, then gave Arthur the ‘thumbs up’ and pushed a button.

Arthur looked up to where Gup had shown him the camera was mounted and began to speak. “Grand Admiral Blacke to all first wave units. We are breaking off this attack. All units are to hold formation and begin slowing in concert with the command ship. The three Keelar contingents have been taken into custody. All units respond immediately.”

While Arthur tried to get his revolution underway, Gup studied the makeup of the fleet; vessel types, weaponry, personnel, and anything else he could locate in the computer memories. He was not at all impressed by what he saw, other than the sheer number of ships. There were three thousand of them just in this wave of the attack. Gup turned to another panel and began reducing the ship’s speed.

A very large screen below the camera Arthur was using flickered to life. The picture on it was broken into a mosaic of tiny squares each containing a human face. Each face was talking, yelling and shouting angry questions. The question Arthur heard repeated most was; “What about our families?” Arthur suddenly realized that tricking these people into fighting was unfair. He had to convince them. He stepped out of the camera’s view and hit the button on the holographic projector, reverting to his true form.

Gup took the opportunity to tell Arthur that the fleet was following his orders and dropping their speed. He also took time to mention that the fleet had now entered Earth’s solar system.

Arthur took a deep breath and stepped back in front of the camera. There were shocked gasps of consternation and quite a bit more yelling. Once again there was a predominant theme running through this chatter. “No, I’m not dead,” Arthur snapped, “sorry to disappoint you. Now shut up and listen to me. The Doraimee has used you all as fools. He knows we have strong forces converging on you right at this very moment.” A little exaggeration, but Arthur felt comfortable with it.

“But the main thing is,” Arthur went on, “that win or lose, live or die, you and your families will still be slaves of a vicious psychopath. The only way to free them, to free everybody, is to kick Fahh’s ass. And we are going to kick that freaky little football right out of our lives.”

Now, for a change, the myriad little faces were absolutely silent. So much, Arthur thought, for my career as a rabble rouser.

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