In Re: Crew of Spaceship ZPX47
by Mark Reasoner
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 |
conclusion
“I think the best way to do this is to just let Herb tell his story,” the lawyer said. “Would you do that, please?”
Herb nodded. “We are fighting to be free. My people are oppressed on Ulnaria and wish only to have freedom and our liberties. My friends wanted to find a new world so we took a ship and escaped.”
“You stole a ship and killed three members of the UDLE,” Is-h’meh El interrupted.
“You would have killed us or sent us to prison,” Herb replied.
Hawthorne banged his gavel. “Settle down, Ish-tar, you’ll get your chance.”
“We fight for the ship, but only to save ourselves and escape,” Herb continued. “We fly across the stars, but they keep after us. Finally we find your world and try to land. They shoot us down.”
“Didn’t you fight back?” the lawyer asked.
“We try, but they are more powerful. We get away in small shuttles.”
“And when you landed here, did you ask for asylum?”
“Yeh.”
“I’ve got nothing further, Your Honor,” Herb’s lawyer said. “My client was in fear of his life when he asked for asylum.”
“Mr. Prosecutor?” Hawthorne asked, “any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“How about you, Major?” the judge continued. “Anything to add?”
“Only my request that the gentleman be turned over to the Air Force. We have a lot of questions and concerns.”
“Alright then,” Hawthorne said, “Herb, you can go back to your seat and I’ll rule on the request.”
Is-h’meh El stood and hollered, “I DEMAND to be heard!”
“Oh, right,” Hawthorne said. “I did promise you a turn. Come on up.”
The Ulnarian stalked to the witness stand. He waved the bailiff away. “I speak only the truth at all times.”
“Let’s hear what you got,” Hawthorne said.
Is-h’meh El cleared his throat. “That creature and his cohorts are insurgents and rebels, fighting against the established Ulnarian authority. By their very existence, they commit the crime of treason. Their actions in escaping our home world resulted in the crimes of murder and theft. We know your world does not tolerate these crimes, so we demand his return to face punishment. You would ask the same.”
“Now how would you know what we would ask?” Hawthorne asked. “In fact, I’d like to know how you are so clued in on what goes on here?”
“We have listened to your transmissions and signals for over a century of your time,” Is-h’meh El answered. “We’ve tracked your primitive probes and even tried to respond to your questions.”
“You mean you’ve been paying attention to us?” Hawthorne asked.
“No, but your signals and such are pervasive across the sector. And now you’ve joined the Anklorran network so we cannot avoid your gibberish.”
“Watch it there,” Hawthorne interrupted. “We’ve been listening, too. Last we heard, y’all had blown yourselves up. Yet here you are.”
“An exaggeration,” Is-h’meh El replied. “It was one of our moons.”
“Sure looked and sounded like the whole planet went up,” Major Hemmings muttered.
“Now let’s get back to business,” the judge said. “Seems like you both agree that Herb and others were fleeing your world. Why?”
“Ulnaria is fighting itself,” Is-h’meh El said. “Two groups vie for supremacy.”
“So you’re saying you’re at war?” Hawthorne asked.
“It’s nothing but a minor insurgency,” Is-h’meh El answered.
“It is a fight for freedom from oppression,” Herb said.
“BE SILENT!” Is-h’meh El hollered.
Hawthorne banged his gavel. “Enough, both of you! I’m getting tired of the outbursts. Anyway, I’ve heard enough. I’m ready to rule on the asylum issue.
“It seems Mr. Herb landed here while fleeing a conflict and while in fear for his life,” the judge intoned. “Since neither the State of Kansas, the United States of America, nor the planet Earth have extradition agreements with the Ulnarian authorities, and are all neutral parties in the conflict, I have no reason not to grant his request. Therefore, Herb is granted asylum and is free to remain.”
Is-h’meh El stood up and pointed at the judge. “You shall not do this to us!” he hollered. “I am a superior officer of the Ulnarian Defense and Legal Establishment and I ORDER you to submit and release this criminal to my custody!”
Judge Hawthorne sat calmly, resting his chin in one hand, as the Ulnarian continued. “You have brought the power of Ulnaria down upon your heads and you will pay! With one communication, I can render you to dust!
“If I order my cruiser to drop its defensive status and change to offense, your pathetic community will be atomized and all of you will be returned to the single-celled creation from which you sprang!
“What say you to this?” Is-h’meh El concluded.
“If...” Judge Hawthorne said quietly, without raising his head from his hand. Silence ruled the court for several seconds.
“Look here, Ish-Ka-Bibble,” the judge said, breaking the silence, “Consider a couple of things. First, you probably would have done what you’re ranting about if you were serious, so I’m not too concerned. And second, while you might be able to take a few shots at us, we can still shoot back.”
“Am I right, Major Hemmings?” he said.
“I can call Space Command,” the major replied. “We can probably bounce them back to somewhere around Mars or maybe the Asteroid Belt.”
“See what I mean?” Hawthorne concluded, “I suggest you blunder on out of here and head back to orbit.”
Is-h’meh El turned and stalked out. At the door, he brushed by a tall weather-worn man with gray hair and wrinkled skin.
“Am I too late?” the man asked as the Ulnarian exited the courtroom.
“Yes, Fred, you’re late,” the judge answered. “But it’s nice you could join us.”
“Sorry about that, Your Honor,” Fred McKenna said. “The Air Force guys held me up. They finished loading those space ships and had to finish the paperwork before letting me loose. Got here as soon as I could.”
“No worries, Fred,” Hawthorne replied, “And since you’re here, we’ve got a question. How bad is the damage to your land and crop?”
“Hell, Judge, it’s nothing. I only lost a little over an acre, and I can plow all the damage under and replant next week. I might be down about five hundred bucks.”
“Send a bill,” Hawthorne said. “Now, if there’s nothing else, we can adjourn.”
“What about sentencing?” the prosecutor asked.
“Suspended,” Hawthorne answered.
“Your honor,” Gra’an-Fa Lun’s attorney said from the defense table. “What about my client? You’ve granted asylum to the other defendant and sent the other Ulnarian packing, but haven’t ruled on what happens to my client.”
Hawthorne thought for a couple of seconds. “I guess she’s free to go. Got nothing to hold her on.” Judge Hawthorne banged his gavel, and the matter of Space Ship ZPX47 concluded.
Everyone except Gra’an-Fa Lun left the courtroom. She remained seated where Hawthorne found her on his way to lunch.
“What’s the problem?” the judge asked.
“They left me,” Gra’an-Fa Lun answered. “Now I’m stranded on this backwater piece of Krapolian fecundity. I have no communicator, no transport, and nowhere to go.”
“You know, y’all might have a better chance of getting along with us if you didn’t insult our planet so much,” Hawthorne said. “It’s the only one we’ve got, and we kind of like it.”
“I’m more worried about what happens to me,” Gra’an-Fa Lun said. “Even if I could make it back to my ship, I will face demotion and severe punishment. I’ve got nothing and nowhere.”
“Well,” Hawthorne replied, “I see two options. First, the county’s homeless shelter is about a half mile west of here, over on Fifth Street in an old church. You could go there and they will feed you and give you a place to sleep until you figure something out.”
“Or second,” he continued, “you could catch up with that major and your cohort, and head out west.”
“But then I would have to face those monsters outside,” Gra’an-Fa Lun said.
“Those aren’t monsters,” Hawthorne said. “They’re just repor... On second thought, you’re right.”
Gra’an-Fa Lun thought it over for several seconds. “Could you call the Major for me?”
Hawthorne did, and Major Hemmings arrived at Area 51 with two guests rather than one.
In the Nevada Desert
Area 51 hummed with excitement and activity. The two Ulnarian spacecraft were analyzed and dissected in detail as the scientists looked for new technologies to adapt and exploit.
Herb and Gra’an-Fa Lun settled into spacious quarters, where they would live while being questioned and requestioned about their home world and other planets and systems. They rarely spoke to each other during these first weeks.
About a month after arriving, two more Ulnarians joined them. They let the first two know what happened to the other escape vehicles.
Alpha One and Bravo One made it across the Pacific and over Russia before the pursuing ship forced the other to crash land approximately two hundred kilometers northwest of the Mongolian border. The pilots set their wreckage to self-destruct and then engaged in a running firefight for a few more kilometers until running into a Spetznaz unit dispatched to find them. Both aliens and one Russian were killed.
Alpha Four disappeared over the Sahara Desert. It hasn’t been seen since.
Alpha Two and Bravo Two, whose occupants joined Herb and Gra’an-Fa Lun, battled all the way to Australia where they crashed in the outback. Deciding to work together, the two wandered into Alice Springs two weeks later where they stumbled into a bar before they could be apprehended. The locals provided copious amounts of food and beer, and when the authorities finally arrived, the two were passed out on the floor stuffed full and dead drunk. Not wanting to deal with the situation, the Aussies packed both aliens and their spacecraft debris off to Area 51.
Sitting together over dinner with Major Hemmings one night, the four asked if they would ever be allowed out of the secure area to experience regular life on Earth.
“I don’t think you’d like it,” Hemmings told them, “the desert is harsh, and there’s nothing around for miles.”
“What about the city we’ve heard people talk about?” Herb asked. “Las Vegas?”
Hemmings thought about this. “Well, it’s a crazy joint by itself, so the four of you would easily fit in. I think my bosses would worry about you getting lost or taken advantage of.”
“How much trouble could we really get into?” Herb asked.
“Have you ever played blackjack or Texas Hold-em?” Hemmings asked.
“What’s a Texas?” one of the others asked. “And how do you hold ’em?”
Copyright © 2022 by Mark Reasoner
