Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Easy as PIE

(Some fiction for a slow blogging day. Till later...)

Easy as PIE


I am sweating heavily. I can't stand much more of this humiliation. This has become a very one-sided game. She has beaten me again!

She is just too good at tennis for me.

When I asked Allison if she wanted to meet me at the club, I expected her to refuse, as I know lately she had spent her Saturdays with a greasy venture capitalist who had made a bundle during the IPO scams. Had I known she would really accept my invitation, I would've asked her to meet me someplace where I wouldn't look like a damn fool. Tennis? What was I thinking of?

Whew! Thank god it's over.

"You let me win didn't you?" Allison says with a wheeze, "You just played good enough to keep me one point ahead!"

I smile at her while shaking my head in mock disagreement. Only my tired arms and sore legs will know how valiantly they tried this day. I walk with her to the showers and tell her I would meet her out front by the car. I watch her walk away in graceful strides that reminded me again of how much I really have missed her.

I can't stand these showers. There always seems to be a bunch of perverts hanging around. I make my way past the showers, throw on some deodorant and quickly put on my fresh clothes.

beeep.
beeep.

I wonder who would be calling my cell-phone on a Saturday.

"Hello, Tech1 here."

The voice on the other end is static ridden and hardly audible, "Tech1 the CEO needs you. It is a Blueboy takeover."

"Okay, I am on my way ASAP."

Only I know that the corporate lingo is jargon the National Security Agency had dreamed up to disguise our conversation from cellular eavesdroppers. It ticks me off. The first date I have with Allison in over a month and suddenly the President needs me to deal with another alien intrusion. "Blueboys." A not-so-clever name given to the aliens with a bluish cast to their skin. Dangerous beings though - very dangerous.

In 01' I was assigned to President Bush's special task force, P.I.E., to deal with alien intrusions within the sovereign air space of earth. They picked me because I had been aware of aliens since I was just a kid. The researchers call my abilities, "supra-sensory developments" but I feel perfectly normal. P.I.E. stands for Planetary Intrusion Experiment. I don't know why such a stupid acronym was given to it, but then again that's not my department.

"Allison..I really have had a great time, but there's a corporate takeover brewing and my boss called and needs my help."

It is not a lie, more of a half-truth.

"I really would like to do this again soon though!"

I bend over and kiss her on the lips before she knows what is happening. Her eyes light up and her unmistakable smile emerges upon her face, making her look like an angel. What a time to have to leave!

I jump out of her new red Chrysler 300 and into my baby blue 69' Cadillac convertible and wave good-bye. I hit the streets and I push down hard on the pedal and pull out the ashtray. Of course no longer is there an ashtray, but instead a special satellite relay and holograph generator.

The hologram of the director's face next to the steering wheel is somewhat distracting so I slow down and readjust my speed.

"Tech1? Director here. The Blueboy craft entered your sector at 8400 hours. We lost track of the descent but it's somewhere between the South Fashion Mall and route 141. We're counting on you Tech1 - Don't blow it!" The hologram disappears and the Director is out of my face.

All these malls always give me a headache. I remember when there used to be outdoor shopping malls. Now everything is covered and recycling dehumidified air that smells funny. I wish these Blueboys would learn to quit trying to control the minds of humans. At least soon the MFC grid will be on-line.

Mind Frequency Circuit technology will eventually save earth' interfering with the Blueboy thought control devices. It is still hard to believe that for over a thousand years all humans have had thoughts projected into their minds from an alien race intent upon keeping people contentedly ignorant of what life is all about. In trials with the MFC grid it seems like folks start thinking freely and think for many hours about what life is and how our consciousness works. In most trials people actually didn't watch television more than ten minutes a day, and then just for news-briefs.

I know some kids and adults watch TV for up to 8 hours a day - talk about Blueboy success stories!

I guess that's why they wanted me to be team leader of PIE. My mind has always been immune to external thought projection. I barely watched TV as a kid. I read and studied and thought. Free thoughts. Not escapist thoughts. I could ask what happened after one's body died and think about it freely. Supposedly, Blueboys would always force people to think about something else. According to the "Glowboys" we are immortal and reincarnate eternally into more advanced evolutionary bodies. Humans are near the bottom of this evolutionary scale. "Glowboys" now that is another great description used by PIE. You see there are these beings from somewhere out in the Pleiades star cluster who actually glow. Their atomic configuration supposedly has about 278 periodical elements instead of our 115. That's why they glow.

I actually met a Glowgirl once. Prettiest and most impressive woman I ever laid eyes upon. She was over six feet and three inches tall, actually an inch taller than me. She was in an underground research facility in San Diego. She was my first experience with telepathy. She spoke directly into my mind and it was warm and kind like someone giving you a mental caress.

It still unnerves me a little to know she heard my every thought, yet she was so non-judgmental it didn't matter. She briefed me about life after death, past lives and some of the negative alien races which exist within our galaxy. I had been chosen because of my familiarity with telepathy and those supra-sensory developments.

HONK!

"Get that pile of sh-t off the road!"

I watch as three kids in a late model Mustang convertible barrel beside me. Three arms with fingers extending heavenwards confront me. I see they are pointing out their IQ numbers.

I press a button upon the dashboard and the EMF field generator in the trunk became active. All I have to do is push another button and the Cadillac's whitewall tires lose contact with the highway. I am riding upon an electromagnetic field which is propelling the car away and into the air.

The kids scream start veering and slam their brakes. I hope they are all okay. I normally am not allowed to use this Glowboy technology unless it's night time and it won't shock people. But, hey, they wanted this car off the road, right?

Glowboys and glowgirls in their crafts can go faster than the speed of light. Some tech-stuff about 4th dimensional frequencies being beyond 3rd dimensional time and space. That's why they always lost our fastest planes. I remember in 94' I was flying an SR-71 Blackbird. Fastest mother we had back then, 3000+ mph! I was following two Glowboy craft and they just pulled away from me like I was parked. If it weren't for my sensory abilities I probably would have been scared to death. But I never sensed negativity from those Glowboy ships.

Anyway, this Caddy with an EMF generator has been limited to speeds of around 450 mph when it's off the ground. It would not have been able to do that without the structural reinforcements and the sheet metal panels having been replaced with titanium panels. A small force-field surrounds the interior here protecting me from the vacuum and heat 450mph, top down cruising creates. Best thing about these field generators is the instantaneous manner they can change direction. Our tech guys softened the steering for me since I am still buffeted and subjected to 3rd dimensional G-forces.

"Jesus Christ!"

A woman falls to her knees in shock. I probably should've landed further from the mall's parking lot, but I really don't have time to screw around with niceties. My scanner indicates the Blueboy is inside the mall...somewhere.

Judging from what I see, the Blueboy has been busy. Three brawls were going on inside the mall that I could spot. An old man was using the wall as a urinal. All the children are crying. A few young couples are fornicating on the floor. Freaky. What's creepier is that no one else seems to notice anything wrong. Damn Blueboys, their thought projection devices have more strength when they are broadcast from close range. Even I can feel the thoughts entering my head.

"I must get out now. Run! Leave. It will be my death if I remain!" I hear as if I am thinking it myself. The messages are sent upon my personal synaptic base rate frequency. The Blueboys hate it that I can recognize their little projected thoughts. Very few humans can. Glowfolks can distinguish externally generated thoughts quite easily. My recognition abilities lie somewhere between the two.

CLICK.

It is Glow time.

I have a MFC frequency jammer which will temporarily free anyone within fifty feet of me of Blueboy mind control. I never get used to the look of horror upon their ashen faces when they recognize what they are doing.

"Everybody leave the mall - NOW!"

"We know who you are Tech1! You can't save yourself, much less these puppets!" This time it came from over the central intercom system. Blueboy must be at the mall security office. Fortunately, I have been here with Allison before, when a purse snatcher had ripped off her purse we went to mall security to report it.

I start running.


I am sweating heavily - still. My games with Allison have left me more exhausted than I thought. Maybe I should lose several pounds, cause this running really tires me out.

"What the.."

An explosion rocks the security office only 50 yards from my position. I hope nobody was in there. As I run, something the Glowgirl said to me reverberated through my mind, "They are not truly evil, because they are not intelligent enough to recognize the negativity of their actions. To judge them is like condemning a small child for his ignorance. Be kind and warm to them, for they need love most of all. Their world is almost sterile of love and compassion."

It was hard to look at the rampant insanity which had taken place here and feel much except contempt for Blueboy. Yet, I know Glowgirl spoke truth and so I cleared my mind of any lower thought expressions such as hate or vengeance and instead oscillated my thoughts on pure love and warmth and kindness. The same kindness I had felt when the Glowgirl, Miasha, had spoken telepathically to me.

"Please come out my friend, I wont harm you. These things you have done are destructive in nature and are not intelligent. Hate is self-destructive. You only succeed in harming yourself" I try to project telepathically into the mind of the nearby Blueboy.

I wait. Tense moments pass.

I see the alien appear. About five feet four, the Blueboys are much shorter than Glowboys, yet were still two feet taller than the Greys. I can see emotion upon his face as though my thoughts had touched a part of him few had before. He drops the thought projection device to the floor and I walk over to him.

"Feel free to return to your ship and leave. I won't stop you."

The alien looks at me with an expression that seems like remorse. His hairless oblong shaped head was unusual in appearance and yet I knew it was normal for his race. His mind projected weaker telepathic thoughts into my head.

"You do not wish to dissect me or interrogate me?" he asks mentally.

"No. That is unintelligent. Harming or imprisoning beings is not the way we do things anymore, and certainly not the way I do things. You and your people have nothing to fear from the people of Earth."

Looking into his eyes was very strange. One doesn't realize that all humans have a certain look until one looks into the eyes of an alien. They also all share a certain look, most likely forged by the shared environment and experiences of their home world. I can feel his sadness and remorse for his actions as though by my telepathic communiqué he finally understood his actions were wrong. In many ways he appears to be a child, yet in other ways very old.

I knew I had better get him out of here before these people became more traumatized than they already were. I picked up the alien thought projecting device from the floor and opened a hidden pouch, lining my blazer. Placing the device in my pocket I ask where his spacecraft is and if he is alone.

"Am all alone yes. No others. Craft on surface of structure." He transmits into my mind. It's weird. It's in an alien language but my mind also converts it into words I comprehend. I try to adjust my conscious attunement more upon the mental frequency he is broadcasting upon, so as to ensure I am understanding correctly. I understand he means the mall's roof. We walk up the escalator and past throngs of people who are aghast at the sight of him. Some girls and women scream. People stared entranced by the alien that was before them. My superiors will be angry that I didn't 'tranq' the mall before going in. However, I know that garbage leaves respiratory ailments in it's wake, and so I don't use it.

I smile broadly at the children and adults nearby, hoping a broad smile can diffuse the shock of any situation. The children smile back, thinking perhaps it is somebody dressed in an alien costume. The adults know better. No costume could be that good. Some guy, who vaguely reminds me of Allison's venture capitalist friend, poorly cut suit and all, starts shouting.

"ALIEN!" he screams, "KILL IT!"

Fearing things will get nasty, I decide to pull out my badge.

"Please everyone stay calm. Everything is under control. I will use tranq-gas on anyone who interferes."

Using my best authoritarian stride, I walk between folks who stare while parting like the red sea did for Moses. I walk along until I finally see the roof access which had been left open. The screams of some people running in all directions was not the desired effect I had intended. Perhaps my superiors were right in their reasons for always using tranq-gas in public areas. I hope no one gets hurt. I really don't need more to burden my conscience. I know any alien reports will be discounted as a costumed prank and mass hysteria. Everyone knows real aliens don't exist, and they certainly don't appear in upscale shopping malls.

We climb out upon the roof and I fuse the grates lock from above with a small high potency laser. Another technical bit of wizardry learned from glowboy technology.

From the roof I can witness the pandemonium going on outside as people were rushing outside the mall shouting and yelling. Other folks are jumping into cars and driving recklessly away. Small mobs of folks are gathering in search of myself and this alien. I know this little episode is not going to look good on my resume'.

The alien ship is nearby. I can feel it's presence although I can not see it. It is oscillating at a frequency beyond that of our visual cortex's ability to discern. The alien stops and looks at me.

"You are not like the others, you do not fear and your thoughts are motivated by kindness. The others here are more primitive and seek my destruction. From you we have nothing to fear - from most of your kind we have very much to fear. Ten thousand years ago your world achieved great technocracy. Your race had mastered space travel and had attacked my home world bringing death to my people. After your civilization sunk beneath the waters, we have made efforts to slow down your technological progress. Your thoughts have shown me how we too have acted very wrongly. However, my world will not agree. It is a matter of global security."

"Well our world is learning. They have been indoctrinated and programmed by their surroundings to fear the unknown and unusual. They also destroy that which they do not understand. Your world's actions have not helped matters much. Many here still cling to the ignorant ranting of their ancestors. As you know - they could quite possibly be their own ancestors reincarnated."

The alien walks a few steps and disappears instantaneously. I know he has entered his craft. In another moment I know he and his craft are both gone and so I climb down a fire escape and run back to my Caddy. Like those around me I am in a hurry too.

I have to report on all that had occurred and explain how my tranq-gas canisters had malfunctioned... and most importantly, I have to set up a re-match with Allison.

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