Intergalactic Terrorist (New Dimension Book 1) Page 4

  The moustached man was back.

  “It is called an Image-Rendering Mask,” the Human looking moustached Greebol explained, “I bought it in Baggus’Regious obviously. Was created by a one-eyed prostitute called Lousina. She was a failed scientist – hence the prostitution. To be honest she was a terrible scientist… but great at her secondary profession.” And he winked. “Now, when not pleasuring men with her fish-netted tentacles, she sells illegal inventions. And they are pricey too. But well worth it. This Image-Rendering Mask changes to look like whatever species you are currently thinking about. Clever stuff!”

  Charlie was impressed. He was sure that there were many things this alien had that would be far more advanced than anything on Earth. Except for maybe in Japan.

  “So this erm… prostitute… Lousina… she is a one-eyed alien is she?” Charlie asked curiously.

  “She is now,” Greebol chuckled, “after her pimp cut her other two out!” He walked over to the door and opened the lock once again. “I will not be long. Make yourself at home. I recommend you pour yourself a hot cup of enlog. Squirms as it goes down the throat!” With that he stepped out of the spaceship and closed the door behind him.

  Charlie ran to the already closed door, banging on it as hard as he could. “Don’t you leave me in here!” he shouted. “Let me leave! I want to go home! Don’t you leave me in here! Don’t you leave me in here!”

  He slumped down onto the floor and sighed. He did not belong here yet for some reason he was beginning to feel at home.

  Chapter 6

  Frank Barber and Stanley Firm stood by the lakeside watching the waters surface. For the last thirty years they had come to this lake. It was their time away from their lives, away from their wives and families. They had known one another for years. Now, in their sixties, they might not be able to do as much as they could when they were younger but they hadn’t lost that lust for life.

  Frank’s fishing rod began to bend and his float dipped under the water, teasing the surface. He grabbed hold of the reel and began to turn. This one felt like a whopper! Stanley adjusted his fishing hat and rushed back to the tent, grabbing the keep net. He unfolded until it stretched out wide, looking like one of his wife’s stockings.

  “This one’s a keeper,” he said to Frank who was gritting his teeth, trying his best to keep the fish. Slowly it was pulled closer and closer to the lakeside. This had to be a prize carp for sure!

  “Here it comes!” Frank shouted as he pulled upwards for one final tug at the rod. The surface of the water splashed upwards as the fish that the fisherman had hooked flung up out of the water.

  Frank and Stanley stared at the ‘fish’ in disappointment, confusion and slight amusement. Hooked on the end of the line was an old Wellington boot covered in weed.

  There was a sudden rustle from the bushes nearby. Frank and Stanley panicked. There were rumours of savage, wild animals in the forest. They had never witnessed one in all their time coming here but still it was enough of a scare to force them into each other’s arms as they huddled together in a frightened embrace.

  Closer the unseen rustler of the bushes came. Twigs broke beneath it as it moved. Whatever it was, it moved erratically, almost as though it twitched as it slunk through the undergrowth. Frank and Stanley held their breath as it finally emerged.

  It was a metal sphere, about the size of a basketball, with six metallic robotic legs sprouting from beneath, moving it along like a bug. It stopped a few feet away from the two huddling men, the legs retracting inside the spherical body. There it sat, still once again, as if it had never moved at all.

  Slowly, Frank stepped over to the sphere. He prodded it with his stick, cowering back expecting it to explode. Nothing happened. He began to chuckle.

  “It’s just a glorified coffee machine,” Frank chortled, “fancy a latte?”

  “I’ll have a cappuccino if one’s going?” Stanley responded reaching into his backpack and bringing out a fine china cup and saucer set.

  Suddenly a flap opened at the top the sphere and a long thin metal stick emerged, unfolding outwards until it reached the height of Frank’s face. Without warning a second sphere the size of a tennis ball popped up from the top of it. The second sphere had an eye in it. It blinked. Frank stepped backwards.

  “You might want to put away that china Stanley,” he whispered, “I’m not sure this is a coffee machine after all.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Stanley, “I was looking forward to a late night cuppa.”

  The eye on the end of the metal stick scanned the area. It looked up and down the two men, who were once again embracing in each other for protection, wearing their fishing hats and large boots. It looked at the small two-man tent and the single double sleeping bag inside. It looked across to the bag of pampering products and baby oil on the floor. It looked to the pink car they had driven in with the love heart bumper stickers.

  With one sudden move the sphere opened up, metal grinding against metal as thick robotic arms and legs stretched outwards, followed by a small rounded head with glowing red eyes. Straightening up to its full height it stood at least three foot higher than the two fishermen. It turned its head towards them and spoke through a grill where the mouth should be in sporadic, tinny bursts of speech.

  “YOU… ARE… NOT… THE… UNWELCOME!”

  “This is true,” said Stanley, “we have always been welcomed in this forest. Back in our small country town however it is a different story. I’m a married man. Frank here has three children! People just wouldn’t understand our love for one another.”

  The robot tilted its head to one side, clearly confused as to what the men were talking about.

  “I won’t forget that time we worked up in the mountains,” Frank said, staring longingly into the other’s eyes, “looking after those sheep. I remember the drinking… the play fighting… dressing up as Little Bo Peep…”

  “I dressed up as a wolf,” put in Stanley, “and chased you around the mountain tops growling!”

  “You were an animal!”

  “But that night… you were the animal!”

  “Simpler times Stanley. Simpler times.”

  “ENOUGH!”snapped the robot, its head spinning in confusion of these two strange looking beings,“YOU… ARE… NOT… THE… ONE… I… AM… LOOKING… FOR!”

  It raised one of its arms, pointing it towards the two fishermen. A strange orange glow emitted from a large weapon fixed to the end of its arm. The two men held each other tightly, ready for the end. The weapon fired a blast of orange laser light towards the men who squealed with fright!

  When the bright light from the laser dimmed, the robot curled itself back into the sphere, metal grinding against metal. The six legs extended once again and the sphere scurried off into the forest.

  All was quiet by the lakeside. Where the two men had stood, only a pile of their clothes remained - two fish with slightly Human faces flapping wildly amongst them.

  Chapter 7

  Charlie decided he had looked at as much as he could look at in the circular room. He had examined every switch, every button, every small monitor and every light and he had decided he didn’t have a clue what any of them meant.

  He had managed to open a small compartment and found it full of water, a strange aquatic creature swimming about inside that had an antennae very similar to Greebol’s on top of its head.

  A number of times he had found his fingers creeping towards one of the buttons, ready to press. At the last second he had pulled away, worried that that could have been the button that launched the nuclear warhead or some sort of alien weapon that swapped men and women’s genitalia.

  Greebol was taking a long time and Charlie was bored. He had tried numerous times to open the strange lock on the main door but, every time he tried to touch it, a rubber hand had emerged from it and slapped him in the face. An interesting security system but Charlie couldn’t help thinking that Greebol was talking the mickey out of him.
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  Instead he decided to turn his attention to the other door at the opposite side. He examined it closely, looking for some sort of handle. After some time he discovered a tiny button shaped like a nipple on the frame. Cautiously, hiding his face expecting an oncoming bitch slap, he pressed the button. The door opened, which actually surprised Charlie greatly. He had expected it to be harder than that. He passed through the door and into the dark room beyond, the door sliding shut behind him.

  For a few moments he found himself standing in complete darkness and instantly regretted his curiosity. Then, as if someone had switched on a light, the room lit up, although Charlie could see no source for the light. He examined the room.

  There were no other doors in the room, or windows. In fact the room was very simple and free of clutter – except for three large canisters on the three walls opposite him. They were chunky, metallic containers with glass lids. Thick tubes stuck out of the sides and rose upwards, connecting to a circular panel on the ceiling. He stepped closer to the canisters to peer in through the glass but found them clouded in condensation making it impossible to see within. The curious side of Charlie took over once again. He knew that he would probably instantly regret wiping the condensation to reveal what was inside. He wiped the first glass lid with the cuff of his shirt and he instantly regretted it!

  Lying inside, seemingly dead, was one of the ugliest things he had ever seen. It was some sort of alien, that much he was certain of, but not at all like Greebol. Although Charlie could not say that Greebol was attractive by any means, compared to this alien, Greebol would win second place in a beauty contest. This alien had bright orange skin, a large snout, big thick pointed ears that stuck outwards and a huge down turned mouth with large teeth sticking out from the bottom lip. It reminded Charlie of a mutated pig that had fallen into a vat of tomato soup. He doubted it smelt like tomato soup. He doubted if the alien even knew what a tomato was. This creature looked like it only ever ate meat. And lots of it for the alien's body was one of the largest, strongest looking bodies he had ever seen. The alien had no top on so Charlie could see every bulbous muscle, every strained bicep, each of his enormous pecks. This alien didn’t have a six pack… it had a sixteen pack. Charlie believed that this thing could probably beat five Arnold Schwarzeneggers with his eyes closed. Currently the alien’s eyes were closed. Charlie didn’t want to see them open. He could imagine this beast could kill you with a single stare.

  A bit like his great Auntie Barbara.

  Charlie decided to ignore that he ever looked into this canister and approached the second one. As he wiped the condensation from the glass an interesting thought occurred to him. He could be the first Human ever to see aliens…real aliens! Or at least the first sane person ever to see one. Or sober person. And he had seen two different types! He hoped that Greebol and this pig alien were different species. Unless one was male and one was female? Charlie shook his head deciding to remove that disturbing image from his mind.

  Slowly he peered inside the second canister. This alien looked very old. It appeared male once again, had very pale blue skin and a tiny slit for a mouth. It had straggly grey hair on top of its head and, like the pig alien, his two eyes were closed. It had very few features and would have looked very plain if it hadn’t been for the ten million wrinkles that covered the entire face. He was very thin and bony. With his wrinkled skin and bony frame he appeared very, very old indeed.

  Much like great Auntie Barbara.

  Onto canister number three. To Charlie it seemed like he was on some sort of alien game show. He half expected an alien game show host to enter the room in a sparkling gold suit, brighter than white teeth and a terribly fake tan shouting, “Charlie Pinwright come on down! Nice to see you to see you nice!” He wondered if he chose the correct canister he would win some sort of space speedboat, presented to him by a scantily clad three-breasted woman.

  Somewhat disappointed he realised he was not on an alien game show and that in fact he had just been abducted by one and was unsure if he would ever see the sunlight again.

  He wiped the condensation from the third canister's glass and peered inside. Charlie was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. Lying just like the others was what at least appeared to be a female alien. She had green skin with strange exotic markings etched here and there upon it. Her facial features were small and well proportioned. Her eyes, although closed appeared large and her lips were full and plump. Her hair was jet black and braided into long plaits that seemed to stretch down to her waist. She was curvaceous in all the right places under her tight fitting leather cat suit. Charlie was somewhat disappointed that she only seemed to have two breasts. How very normal.

  She reminded Charlie of his ex-girlfriend. Obviously not the green skin. Charlie’s ex never had green skin, apart from that incident at the Indian restaurant with the chicken curry and the revelation of the whereabouts of the schoolgirl's missing cat. There was just something about this alien that reminded him of her. It wasn’t the way she looked as this alien was far better looking than his ex. He hoped that her personality wasn’t the same. Not that Charlie ever thought he would get to know this alien's personality as she appeared to be as dead as a doornail.

  Still, in Charlie’s mind, she was the most beautiful dead alien he had ever seen.

  Nothing at all like great Auntie Barbara.

  Above the third canister he noticed a small shelf. On that shelf was a book made out of thin metal sheets. Everything on this spaceship appeared to be made out of metal. And all of the metal was soft and warm to the touch. It must be the metal of the future. Much better than Earth’s boring hard cold metals. Move aside iron and steel and tin. There was a new metal in town!

  Even though the writing was in some strange extra-terrestrial scrawling, Charlie devised from the picture on the front cover that this was an instruction manual for the large canisters. The picture showed an alien looking at one of the canisters with confusion on his face.

  Charlie attempted to make some sort of sense from the words, but it looked like someone had just dribbled spaghetti all over the pages and decided to give up. A good job really as he felt how thick and heavy the book was. It amused him to think that even on other worlds, instruction manuals had so many pages it would take a lifetime just to read the damn thing.

  Still with the book in hand, Charlie pondered over the buttons on the side of canister number three. There were little drawn symbols above each one. The blue button’s symbol resembled an icicle. Freeze perhaps? The red button’s resembled a flame. Heat maybe? There were other buttons, which also had their own symbols. Charlie devised fast, slow, spin, wash, dry… he was probably wrong about them all. Still he once again found his curious finger twitching over one of the buttons. It was the big red one. He knew that if he pressed it something disastrous was bound to happen. Still, this time he could no longer help himself.

  He pressed it.

  It beeped.

  The inside of the canister began to glow red. Charlie looked inside and saw what looked like the rings of an electric hob glowing underneath the female alien. He began to panic. What if the red button wasn’t heat at all but was in fact cook? What if, by his curious finger, he was about to create a new speciality for the dinner table – crispy fried beautiful alien!

  He staggered backwards, about to retreat from the room and pretend he was never in there in the first place. But as he staggered his bum, which was by no means a large bum, just not a small bum, touched the side of canister number one. The canister with the scary pig-like alien inside!

  There was another beep.

  Charlie slowly turned around and gasped. His stupid plump but not fat bottom had only gone and hit the red cook button on this canister as well! Now there would be two helpings of crispy fried alien! He decided there and then to go absolutely nowhere near the other canister. He also decided there and then that he was a clumsy oaf. Just one more disappointing trait to add to his disappointing life.

&nb
sp; Before he managed to reach the door and head through it there was another noise.

  Ping!

  It reminded him of his microwave back in his flat. That noise meant the food was cooked. Nervously he headed back over to the female aliens canister whose lid was slowly opening. The smell of fake cheese and melted plastic reached his nostrils and he shuddered. He looked down at the female alien and was relieved to see that she in no way resembled a very well done steak. In fact she looked normal (normal for a green skinned alien anyway) … healthier than she had before. There was a glow to her green cheeks that seemed to add to her beauty.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  Charlie found himself staring into two of the largest, loveliest, silver eyes he had ever seen. Not a cold silver, but warm and loving.

  She sat suddenly, bashing foreheads with Charlie’s. They both rubbed their wounds with general shouts of “OW!” all round.

  “Sorry,” apologised Charlie, “that was my bad!”

  “Who the heck are you?” the alien female said in a short snappy voice that still to Charlie seemed to roll off her tongue like honey. “And what the heck are you?” she continued after taking in his appearance.

  “My name is Human,” Charlie stuttered nervously, “and I’m a Charlie.” He paused. “Actually… switch that!”

  “Where am I?” she continued. She seemed seriously pissed off. “What happened to my quarters?”

  “I… erm… well..” Charlie stammered.

  Behind him there was another Ping! followed by a loud grunting noise. Charlie froze.

  “What Is The Meaning Of This?” boomed a loud, rib cage rattling voice. “I Demand To Know What’s Going On Here!”