Alien Deception (21 page)

“Then the people would ask, ‘Why were we not told of this plan? We are the people who elect you into office, yet you felt that we could not be told? It is a matter of public information!’" he said, loudly and with authority.

There would be denials by the government. However, doubt would exist in the people's minds, and this doubt might be just enough to get a foot into the stronghold of the human's political hearts. Then the third party would arise. “A true party of the people and for the people, a true servant of human rights, a true representative of the…" he paused and said slowly, "United Council for Developing Worlds."

Leumas was quite pleased with his plan as he smiled. "It just might work." He began to carefully prepare and draft the statements that he would leak through the media. He knew he would also have to perform a little influence
on some of the politicians to make these rumors even more believable. It would be the result of some fumbling at a press conference or some little remark dropped at a cocktail party, all heard by the right people.

As he composed his statements, his thoughts drifted off in a different direction. In his mind, he kept a little file cabinet filled with what he considered unanswerable events. He would often take a folder out of this mental drawer and mull it over in his mind; it was a game he liked to play with himself. Everything was explainable, and he knew that with all his heart. After he had eliminated all the possible things that could have caused an event, whatever remained had to include the answer, regardless of how absurd or ridiculous it might be.

One of the things that continued to plague his mind was the incident with the memory wipe process of Greg and Sarah. His brow creased in thought. Why had they not been killed? There had been enough mental energy to destroy a brain ten times over. But these two had survived. Why? The answer eluded him. He added another mental note for his filing area. When he got the chance, he would follow up on them and see how they were readjusting to life back on Earth. He smiled and mentally replaced the file in the drawer. Perhaps the answer lay within their minds and just needed a little coaxing, or maybe just a tad bit of influencing, to bring it to the surface.

Chapter Fifteen

REVELATION

Copolla felt especially pleased with himself. Everything was going perfectly according to his plan. "Life is good," he said, thinking how he had carefully and precisely set Leumas up to fail. "I didn't even have to kill him," he said, and then smirked. "Well, not yet anyway. Now that he is on Earth, any kind of accident could happen. These humans are such an unpredictable group, an unstable life form."

He decided he would wait a while before moving on to the next phase of his plan; let the dust settle, so to speak, as Leumas became something of the past. His next step was to move the galaxy into a new era, a new beginning. He was tired of being the watchdog of all the little insignificant and backward worlds such as Earth, he thought with disgust.

"Let these Earthlings be. I can deal with them later," he said out loud as he stood from behind his desk and walked over to where he kept his liquor. There were other galaxies full of hundreds of little planets like Earth, all still groveling in the mud of their development. Exploration and expansion was the direction he saw. The Council had been at a standstill far too long, and they were becoming stagnant and complacent.

He poured himself a large glass of Alberian whiskey and downed it, quickly savoring its warmth. He had reviewed the reports from his exploration department months ago. This was another little group that worked explicitly for him and not for the Council. Long-range probes had revealed a multitude of planets in the neighboring galaxies, planets rich with resources beyond his wildest imagination. Just rest stops on their way to wherever their… no,
his
destiny would take them.

He would make it appear as if the Council was just expanding its mission. Reaching out and helping more and more young worlds stand on their feet and offer protection and aid. Underneath, though, they would be utilizing these planets as bases along their new path, keeping the Council tied up with the multitude of new planets that needed help while his forces kept moving on. The Council would reach a point of saturation and realize they couldn't help everyone. That would trigger a harsh and bitter round of policy making, trying to develop a fair method to decide which planets were more in need of help than others. It would become an ethical and moral issue, factions would be torn as to which side to plant their allegiance, and then the bickering and feuding would begin.

He smiled evilly as he thought how he would then step forward as savior of the "new" UCDW. He would lead the defunct Council into disbanding and form a new government, one that took a more moderate view—his view—and one that would be filled with his own handpicked delegates. He, of course, would become the all-powerful leader of the galaxy.

The plan would take years to carry out, but Copolla was not in any hurry. Many tiny steps had to be taken, slowly and carefully. "But that's okay," he said, taking a second gulp of his drink. "The first phase has been accomplished very smoothly. It was only the beginning—only the beginning."

Copolla's thoughts were interrupted by the announcement that he had a visitor. He checked his monitor. It was Journo, dressed in his ambassadorial guise as he had been on his previous visit. Copolla felt his temper notch up. He didn't like it when Journo came here, especially when not summoned. He slapped the button to open the door to his chambers with the same annoyance as he would to kill an insect or pest. It was best to get Journo out of the passageway as soon as possible so that he would not draw attention. It was a risk that he did not want to take, nor did he have to. His temper continued to rise a little higher in intensity.

Journo strode into the chambers, his ambassadorial robes dark and billowing around him as he approached. Copolla spoke before Journo had a chance to reach his desk. "Why are you here? I have not summoned you!" His tone reeked of distaste and annoyance.

"I have come here to ask a question," Journo said calmly, noticing Copolla's annoyance. Journo began to think maybe he had a made a mistake coming here after all. Inside the robe's large pocket, his hand glided over the old computer core that he had initially brought here to give to Copolla. Having reviewed portions of what was contained on it, he surmised that there was some sort of valuable information about the two humans and past dealings with the planet Earth.

Copolla boomed, finally allowing his temper to dominate him, "A question? You came here risking detection to ask a question! Do you not have a communication device?"

"Yes, I have a communication device," Journo responded nervously. "But I thought—”

Copolla's fist slammed on the desk as he shouted, "I don't pay you to think! I pay you to do things, the dirty filthy things that you are so good at. Things that others will not do." His rage was reaching its peak, and his voice became patronizing. "You are an insignificant thing in the great scheme of things, Journo, a thing that can be squashed and stepped on. Do you want to be stepped on and squashed, Journo? This can be arranged quite easily."

Journo heard these biting words resound in his head.
The D-I-R-T-Y things that I have done. The things that nobody else would do.
He had always known this and accepted it as his new way of life, but hearing Copolla say the words made him sick to his stomach.

Journo opened his dry mouth to answer, hanging his head in humiliation. "No, Copolla, of course not."

Copolla looked down at his desk, dismissing Journo. "Good, then we have an understanding. Do not come here again, unless you wish me to deem your services are no longer required. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Journo whispered, fighting to keep the bile down his throat. "May I leave?"

"Yes," Copolla said simply and, as he saw the humiliation in Journo's face, a smile began to replace his angry sneer.

Journo reached the door and was about to exit when Copolla called to him distractedly. "Journo, what was the question you came here to ask?"

Journo turned to face the Leader of the Council, his face sickened with the vomit residing in the base of his throat. "It wasn't anything of any significance, Copolla," he said in a dejected voice. His right hand gently caressed the computer core and he whispered under his breath, "Maybe there is another place for this."

* * * *

Journo sat in the pilot's chair of his ship, wishing that his body could float and drift in space like his ship, going nowhere in particular, and having no control over what was going to happen next. He needed some time and a place to think where there would be no distractions.

His ship was coming dangerously close to an asteroid belt that resided on the edge of perimeter space of the star system that the planet Zire occupied. He had disengaged the computer safeguards, which by now would have altered his course out of harm's way.

"I could end it right now," he said to himself dejectedly. "Just be done with it."

His gaze rested upon the multitude of asteroids as they came closer and closer, any one of them a potential disaster for the ship.

"A decision. When was the last time I actually made a conscious decision on my own, and not one that was made for me?" he asked himself.

He couldn't remember, and found this disturbed him greatly. It was as if he had awakened from a deep sleep, and a portion of his life had been cut away. He rubbed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

Since the disturbing conversation with Copolla, Journo had begun an insightful and critical look at himself, and he didn't like what he saw. He had compared the life he had been living to the time before the accident that took the lives of his wife and child and his soul. He saw them in his memories, giving way to moisture around his dark, tired eyes.

The asteroids were getting closer, but he still ignored their precarious approach.

"What have I done? How could I have?"

Copolla's view of him as a mere "thing" that would do unthinkable tasks had triggered something within him. "I was a good life form," he said, his voice cracking, "Once I was good, not the evil thing I have become."

The black background and stars filled the portside view port. He ignored the decreasing view on the starboard side where the asteroid filled that view port with its immensity.

He had entered a period of rage and self-hate, and remained there in this fog of an existence he called life. Doing things without thinking or without conscience as his own hate and rage consumed him. Now his conscience was back with a vengeance. The onboard computer reminded him, "Collision impending in thirty seconds."

Copolla had not given him any assignments that were too demanding in the past couple of hours. Just screening and selecting members as Copolla began placing his life forms in key positions that would begin the process of reshaping the UCDW. Journo saw clearly what he had in mind, even though Copolla was not openly sharing that information. His plan would dismantle the UCDW and start a new era of conquest and expansion of the entire galaxy. Those that got in Copolla's way would be removed, regardless of cost. This plan worried him and just that fact alone was cause for reflection. The feeling of concern for other life forms was an emotion that he had not possessed for a long time. The Journo of these past years would not care, for he was just waiting for the inevitable end to all the madness that had consumed him.

Now, since he had begun having these attacks of conscience, he was worried because, if he understood the plan, he might outwardly show signs of concern. Copolla might realize this, and possibly terminate him and his services before he could do anything. Terminated had been a word that he looked forward to before. However, now it meant something else to him. He didn't want to die knowing that he had helped Copolla to succeed in his slaughter of possibly millions of life forms. He had enough blood on his hands already.

Suddenly, his hands jerked towards the console with amazing quickness, re-engaging the autopilot, which immediately moved the ship out of the asteroid's deadly path. The sudden lurch of the craft caused him to be thrown out of the pilot's chair. He picked himself up off the floor slowly, as if he was being resurrected from some dark depth to step forward and begin a new life. He sat back down, his heartbeat resounding loudly in his ears with new life and renewed purpose. One final chance to do something good again, as the old Journo might have done.

He didn't know exactly how much time he had, but whatever he was going to do, it had to be soon. Copolla didn't take chances, and once he realized that he had left, terminating his services was only the push of a button away. He had seen many others just disappear from sight after displeasing Copolla one way or another. He knew ultimately that this would be his fate also, but now he wanted to do something to stop Copolla before that inevitable end happened.

His plan would center on the incriminating events that Copolla had brought about on the planet Earth and then tried to cover up. Journo had been instrumental in the removal of the information from the archives the first time and he knew exactly why it was so important to Copolla. If any of that leaked out, Copolla would be done, finished. He would be removed from his precious position on the Council and shoved off into some insignificant corner on a faraway planet. Journo had been given a second chance now and he would do the right thing this time, the right thing for himself and for the inhabitants of the galaxy.

"That's it then," he said aloud, his plan decided, as his hands moved along the console tapping various keys. He input his destination into the computer and executed the program. The ship responded immediately and headed toward Earth. He found it curious that making the decision made him feel so different.
Almost good,
he thought, a rare smile appearing on his face. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. This would be his last chance to try to atone for the things he had done. His past was strewn with the bodies of innocent victims. Suddenly, it seemed he could remember all their faces, one by one.