July 3, 2014

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION Chapter 18


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The Cold War between the Kiiote and the Yown’Hoo has become a shooting war.  On Earth, there are three Triads one each in Minneapolis, Estados United; Pune, India; and Harbin, China. Protected by the Triad Corporation, they intend to integrate not only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and slaughter Humans and devastate their world.; but to stop the war that consumes Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. The Yown’Hoo know about the extra-Universe Braider, aliens whose own “civil war” mirrors the Cold War. The Braiders accidentally created a resonance wave that will destroy the Milky Way and the only way to stop it is to physically construct a sort of membrane that will produce a canceling wave – generated from the rim of the Galaxy inward. The Braiders don’t DO physical stuff on that scale – the Yown’Hoo-Kiiote-Human Triads may be their only chance of creating a solution. The merger of Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society may produce a stability capable of launching incredible expansion, creativity, longevity and wealth – and building the Membrane to stop the wave.

The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest primate tribe of Humans –two; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote – six; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven. On nursery farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two warring people to reproduce and grow far from their home worlds. Grendl, Manitoba is one such place. No one but the Triad Company has ever heard of it and the physical plant goes by the unobtrusive name of Organic Prairie Dairy.

The city Triads never hear of anything they aren’t spoon fed in their luxury worlds and have heard only rumors of the farms and ranches. Surrounded by a Humanity that has degenerated into a “duck-and-cover” society as the Big Boys fight their war, the Triads don’t care about anything but their own lives. Oblivious, cocooned, manipulated, they have no idea that their privileges are about to be violently curtailed and all of their biology ransacked for the correct Membrane pattern. (update: 5/2/2014)

Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh (ret) burst out laughing and jumped out of the truck.

“What’s so funny?” I cried after him, then scrambled to follow.

A moment later something rolled out of the darkness. I had no idea what it was, but Commander Bakhsh ran up to it and pounded on the door. “The man is insane,” I said.

The rumbling dropped off a bit and I finally got a good look at the thing. At the back was a cylinder with a wide pipe sticking out of its top. Steam floated from it, hissing like it was water on a hot pan – I’m the group chef, so I’ve cooked since I was a little kid – and it rode on a flat bed, barely clearing the ceiling of the parking garage. It rode on six tires, rubber, but with spoked wheels. The forward part of the thing was split between a pilot’s seat that could be covered with some sort of top, and a box behind it that looked to be a little lower the one everyone was riding in. By ‘pilot seat’, I mean it was a contraption that looked like it could be bent and folded to accommodate a Human, Kiiote, or Yown’Hoo driver. From the box a ramp suddenly stuck out like a tongue and a Herd mother and a Kiiote with so much gray fur it looked white loped and clattered down.

Painted on the side, under the silhouette of a white barn on a dark green field, were the words, ORGANIC PRAIRIE FARMS.

Commander Bakhsh went from the Human pilot to the other two and greed them, sniffing the Kiiote’s backside and letting it do the same to him; and butting heads with the Herd mother. He looked back at me and said, “Let everyone out.”

“What?”

He laughed, the Kiiote yipped, and the Herd mother rolled her head back then spat on the floor. They all must have thought I was the Commander’s court jester. Blushing furiously, I ran to the back of the truck and opened the doors, grabbing the handle that would pull the ramp out. Instead, I found myself staring up at a mad Human girl, a couple of snarling Kiiote pack leaders, and an irritated Herd mother and a salivating, horny Herd father. I held up both hands, cleared my throat, and shook my booty to calm them down. I said, “I didn’t have anything to do with this!”

Kashayla jumped down and grabbed the ramp handle from me, glaring as she extended it and almost dropped it on my feet. “You’ve been stupid before, Oscar, but this time? I think you get a new prize.”

“What did I do?” I tried to say. I hate it when I whine.

Qap and Xurf had both rearranged their form to quadruped and said, “You are by far the stupidest Human we have ever met. We will never get that wretched stench out of our nostrils!” Xurf raised a leg to mark me, but I dodged. A moment later, they both stretched up into their bipedal forms. It’s creepy to watch, but I can never help myself as they crouched as one, shoulders down, tails in the air. Pushing up from the ground, they stood and I could see bones moving under fur and muscle. Each one straightened its neck with a snap, shrugging the shoulders back at the same time stretching the arms out straight at me, wriggling four skinny fingers. Two others unfolded from farther up the forearm. Long-clawed, they were opposable and matched with two fingers each. Chest muscles stretched tighter and the neck appeared more rigidly held than a Human one, tilting the head and neck forward where it swung side-to-side, nostrils on the muzzle twitching. The facial skin pulled tighter, stretching the lips back to reveal a carnivore’s teeth and more of the orbis of the eye.
In the rear legs, end toes splayed widely forward, ankle and lower leg straightened to lock into a tibia-fibula arrangement. The upper leg and pelvis flared, but the upper leg remained forward bent rather than Human vertical, giving both of them the impression of coiled springs.
There were no external genitalia I could see, but I knew that made babies like Humans do. But all of them suddenly started snorffling in excitement.

Dao-hi was dignified as usual, but I felt more snubbed by her than by any of the rest of them. Especially after she kicked Nah-hi in the face when he started pawing her – it’s what Herd males do when they get nervous. They want to have sex. The opposite of me, though I’m pretty sure I’ll have to be a Catholic celibate the rest of my natural life. At least the way things are going right now. Dao-hi though, abruptly lifted her head and instead of spitting, sniffed the air and let her eyes go terror-wide.
Me and Shay had to scramble out of the way while the Herd and Pack stampeded through us. By the time we reached them at the foot of the car-thing, Qap and Xurf’s Pack were laying on the floor, bellies up in front of the white-haired Kiiote. Dao-hi and her Herd were kneeling at the feet and leaning on the legs of the almost black Herd matron.

Shay looked at me then at Commander Bakhsh and said, “So, should we be bowing down to you, too?”

He snorted then said, “No need to bow, a simple nod of the head will do.” She opened her mouth to reply and he held up a finger, “And not questioning me ever again.”

Her eyes bugged and she said, “Never?”

He pursed his lips then said, “You can question me as long as you never question Admiral Mnar Ile-ijsin.” The truck driver pulled back her hood and bowed slightly.

I was speechless, but Shay fell to her knees. She had every right to, I guess, because we were talking with a ghost of a Human woman who had both commanded the All Earth Defense Fleet and died spectacularly and very publicly when the Kiiote and Yown’Hoo had blown a hole through the same Fleet as they’d invaded Earth.

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