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Aliens Part 1

A Lecture from The Institute for Scientific Fictions.

“Back in the 50s, 60s, and 70s Science Fiction authors and screenwriters (and here I am generalising for brevity) were worried about bases and leaders. Where did this concern come from? The obvious answer is the Cold War, and the use of Aliens as an analogue for the Soviets; however, I feel it was a result of an over-active paranoia, linked to a subconscious petrified of the unknown, hidden behind the gulf of space (aka the Iron Curtain). Aliens capable of travelling between stars in a reasonable time frame would presumably have their own leader, and there is a maximum number of leaders any invasion needs per group of beings—even if they were socialist. Nor are bases likely to be required. These Aliens can travel through space, between stars. I suspect that our bases would cause very little trouble to these aliens: between teleporters, interplanetary nuclear weapons and lasers of a cataclysmic scale, I foresee very little use to these technically advanced invaders for our bases. Furthermore, their Materials Science would be far in advance of our own, allowing for, at least pseudo-theoretically, the mass production of incredibly complex and programmable pocket-sized folding bases, usable in any condition and fully furnished and supplied for years of fully supported warfare.

King Ethelred IV Part 13

The king grudgingly sent Albert to fetch the artefact’s carriage. It had been placed at the end of the train because it looked jarring next to the beautifully crafted court carriages.

When it arrived, the king told those in the keep, through horn signals, to stand in the designated space. All sharp angles and steel, the artefact had a door on one side and a button that glowed red when a switch was thrown. Depressing the button caused a terrible racket to emit from the room inside it, before a bang was heard and the item in question would be transported to a location entered according to a tome that the merchants had supplied. Out of the door stumbled the first group of twenty-five from the keep. “We shall have to renegotiate payment after this,” the chancellor said, “there is naught of the mountain left to mine to pay for this ‘shipping’ as they call it.”

“We shall do so when next we see them,” replied the king.

“I suspect that it shan’t be long.”

As the sun rose the next morning, the chancellor was woken by exclamations of shock outside his carriage. As he was dressing, there came a knock on his door. “Yes?” he asked.

“Lord, the merchants are here to speak with you, and there is a large... cloud is not the right word, perhaps fortress is better. It appears to be made of iron. In any case it fills the sky and dwarfs the keep!”

“I shall be out in but a moment, bring them refreshments, and thank you for waking me.” He changed his mind on what he would wear, and put on his nicest robes—those reserved for dignitaries.

A quarter of an hour later, the chancellor exited his carriage and was struck by the chaos that he saw around him. Many lords, ladies, and servants stood about, their tasks abandoned, staring at the sky. Or rather where the sky ought to have been; instead there was a huge and pendulous steel coloured blob that filled the all the space above the valley. From mountain tops to mountain tops on both sides, and it stretched down the valley to where it turned. It appeared to the chancellor like a metal facsimile of his own barrel-chested and overweight frame: bulbous and prickled with hair. Though he could not guess at what the hairs on this beast could be. Emblazoned on its side, in the language of the merchants he had been learning in secret, was written: Hypotenuse Shipping: Moving Monads Through Space, Not Time.

Meanwhile, in the eternal shade at the bottom of the pit, King Ethelred IV—last of his line—died alone and unnoticed in the commotion, a knife in his heart. A name was etched in the pommel: Otto.

King Ethelred IV Part 12

“Are you well rested, Lord?” the chancellor asked.

“Indeed, I am not, sir, for I have been in communiqué with the fortress through the night, and we still do not have a solution.”

“Perhaps I might make a suggestion?”

Ethelred looked sceptical, “perhaps you might.”

“Your highness could ask all the court if they’ve any ideas.”

“That is... an excellent idea,” he said as his shoulders slumped, and he gazed up at the fortress as it flew overhead.

The chancellor smiled, “shall I send messengers to call the lords forth for a parliament? Is here a reasonable place, on the edge of the pit?”

“Yes, send messengers, and here will indeed be fine,” Ethelred said in a quiet voice.

A few hours later, the forty or so lords and ladies of the court were gathered for the parliament; there were only a few on the king’s right hand side. “I have called you here to attempt to our current dilemma: how shall we transport those in the fortress to the ground. Have you, my lords and ladies, any ideas?”

“I suppose it is too far for a ladder or a rope?” Asked Lord Harold, who was responsible for the Summer Keep.

“Indeed,” King Ethelred IV responded. At that one word answer the assembly began to talk all at once amongst themselves and within their factions.

“Lord King,” one voice rose above the others. One the king thought he should recognize, but couldn’t place until Albert’s lord, drunk as usual, forced his way to the front of the assembly and said, “Lord King, perhaps we should use the artefact? It would solve this issue in no time whatsoever.” There followed a cacophony of voices as all the other nobles as every one of them hurried to be the first to approve and or disapprove of the idea; everyone except the chancellor who smiled and the king who did not.

King Ethelred IV Part 11

Isabella nearly screamed, her heart was in her throat, beating loud in her ears and she was frozen in place. The hand was not hard, nor unkind; it just prevented her from moving any closer. She tentatively glanced over her shoulder, and saw Albert. He put a finger to his lips, and drew her back from the carriages, before walking a ways with her back towards the servant’s train where he said, “It’s best not to be caught knowing too much about court politics, and even better to know nothing of my son’s and lord’s affiliations.”

“But,” she faltered, still reeling from the shock, “should we not tell the king?”

“Neither you nor I have the influence to meet with the king in private, and certainly, not enough to reveal this plot openly.”

“But, shall we do nothing?”

“We are caught, lass, between an obligation to the king and a need to stay alive: which imperative do we follow, particularly since there may be something more concrete that may be done in the future with less risk or to stave off greater danger to the king.”

Isabella thought for a moment, “I shall endeavour to learn more in that case, to be ready.”

“Isabella, I truly think this unwise.”