By Ittelor Sucan
A Novel of Earth
Translated from Luxurian to English
Ittelor Sucan was giddy with excitement. His day job consisted of monitoring the deep-space radar unit for The Luxurian Army. At night, he slaved away writing The Great Luxurian novel, based on radio broadcasts they had intercepted, from a planet called Earth. They had planned an invasion, but that had to be cancelled after someone sabotaged their invasion rockets. They’d had to be content with monitoring the radio signals from Earth. It was a good thing they had, otherwise Ittelor wouldn’t have learned enough about life on Earth to write this novel. Because of his job translating (at least as close as he could) Earth transmissions, he’d managed to turn his knowledge of Earth into this novel; a novel who’s beginning he was re-reading now:
by Ittelor Sucan
A Novel of Earth
The scientist, but also the captain, Jim Fallopian, gazed at the surface of Planet 27, in the Crinkilon nebula. Fallopian had travelled inside a Sasparza rocket, along with fellow Earthmen J.C. Rendo, Montgomery Sprock, and Callie Bendeen, to investigate this newly-discovered planet. Fallopian was in charge, and he took his leadership seriously, which caused resentment among the other three. Each of them thought that they should be in charge, but Fallopian thought, good luck with that! J.C. Rendo had the good looks that women, and a few men (Ittellor didn’t quite understand this, but from the intercepted radio transmissions, it had been the source of much hostility and division among the people of Earth!) liked, but the brain of a small rodent; Sprock had an ego the size of Mt. Olympus, but was a total dumb dick; and Callie Bendeen had breasts that he’d love to play anti-gravity volleyball with, but she would have had trouble finding her way out of an open airlock.
Captain Ben Halluciner, of the 76th Mounted Cavaliers, shaded his eyes, looking out over a wasteland of mud, rock, and scorpions. He was responsible for a wide area of the desert southwest, and he wasn’t happy. He had been banished here after drinking a little to much at the west point Christmas party, and hitting on 4-star General Harold P. Demerit’s wife, Pricilla. He had been an aide to the general, but after the hitting on his wife incident General Demerit had, instead of demoting him, transferred him out here, here where he shared space with nothing but crawling bugs, other desert insects, and snakes. That had been 20 years ago, and Halluciner had risen in the ranks until now, he was himself a 4-star general, in charge of this entire sector. Just then, his aide, Lawrence Termini, rode up on a horse with no name, and said,
“We’ve just received a report of strange glowing lights landing somewhere south of our position; what are your orders sir?”
“Well, I suppose we should check them out, although I expect it just some local, who drank too much tequila, letting his impaired imagination run away from him. But, we’ll have a look. Prepare to move out!” The last was shouted towards the waiting troops.
Cowboy Lash Henderson grimaced in pain as he pulled the flaming arrow out of his arm. He and his cowboy friends had been driving a herd of docile cows to market in El Paso (Itterlor was proud of his deciphering skills!), when they had been attacked by a roving band of Scar Face Indians, apparently for no other reason than The Scar Faces had been bored, and thought attacking and scalping a group of defenseless, totally-innocent, just-minding-their-own-business cowboys would be a lark (Ittelor failed to see what a species of bird had to do with anything, but he still had much to learn!), and because Lash didn’t agree with the notion of laying down his life, so some painted warriors could get their kicks, here he was, having just pulled a flaming shaft of fire from his arm. How was there a way out of this mess?
“Captain, we’re picking up an alien ship still beyond the horizon,” came the booming voice of Lieutenant Montgomery Sprock.
“S**t, Sprock, you scared the life out of me! Why must you scream everything?”
“Sorry Captain, but I’m just surprised to see them.”
Maybe, if we leave now, they won’t notice us! he thought. “Evasive maneuvers; prepare for impact!”
The others shared disbelieving glances, then Rendo answered, “I’m assuming command; the captain has lost it. I--”
“Wait just a minute; I haven’t lost anything; I suppose we should check it out.”
“Sir, I don’t think we’ll have any choice; the alien craft has spotted us, and is heading this way!” yelled Sprock.
S**t “Now, evasive maneuvers; prepare for impact!”
The crew exchange more disbelieving stares, and Rendo said, “Sir, they haven’t fired on us yet.”
“Oh, well evasive maneuvers then!”
“You mean, turn tail and run?”
Yes, that’s exactly what I mean! "No, of course not; defensive positions!”
Everyone donned protective space suits, and buckled their safety straps, and prepared for the arrival of the alien ship.
As the crew of Battlestar Comanche cast desperate eyes out the viewport, the alien vessel came into view. Puffs of acrid smoke came from a gigantic cannon mounted on the gleaming surface of the alien ship, just below the nameplate that said 'Drack'; and Captain Fallopian shouted,
“Now? Evasive maneuvers; prepare for impact!"
Battlestar Comanche lurched suddenly to the right, and the fired cannon ball narrowly missed them, and sailed out into the nothingness.
Their own cannons belched smoke and flame, and...”
Ittelor returned from the imaginary battle in space, and thought, wow, that is some tasty reading, sure to make the Luxurian best-seller list! As much as he wanted to keep reading, he needed to hit the individual sleeping pod. After all, he had to work tomorrow!
© Copyright 2016 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.
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