Beginners Guide to Collecting Marc Singer's Movies by Tamie Kwist

We all know the man so well. He plays the leading man in our beloved V.
Perhaps some even find this great talent attractive for physical reasons, while others are attracted to his great acting style, or both. And from viewing Beastmaster (1982, 1991, 1995), V (1983), and Lancelot: Guardian of Time (1997) it is clear to see what Marc does best. All three of them feature Marc in the lead role as a hero. And not surprisingly, we get to see Dar, Donovan and Lancelot on a white horse. A mere coincidence? I think not! And how romantic it was to see Marc as Lancelot, one of the greatest romance legends of all time! Though Donovan and Dar are Marc's signature roles, these characters have many differences. Dar was born a prince with supernatural powers, capable of communicating with animals and rescuing busty damsels in distress. Okay, so Donovan rescues Damsal's in distress too. But Dar seems to be a much gentler kind of hero, whereas Michael Donovan's got that cocky attitude where he seems to take his sweet time in loosening up enough to let people get to know him. And even ifhe falls in love, he never completely gives his heart to his leading lady. He and his son are the center of his universe. Family is what matters most to him. While Dar, on the other hand, is the more vulnerable sort who wears his heart on his sleeve.

So now that I have pinned Marc Singer as a heroic type actor, I will move onto his finest performance of all time. Of course I am talking about William Ball's production of William Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew" (1976). No Marc Singer fan should be without this award winning play. Marc gives us his best. And it is not very often we get to see him in a comedic role. Marc's Petruchio is said to be one of the best of all time. Petruchio's prime objective is to tame his wife, the meanest woman in all Christiandom. At first it seems impossible, and even poor Petruchio seems to be in denial. No one believes it can be done, but in the end she pays him great honor and he knows that it was worth the wait. When I got this play from The Broadway Theater Archive, I had never witnessed Shakespeare before. At first I found the dialogue hard to follow, but caught on quickly, and then I thought I would die from laughing so hard. I have never laughed at a movie the way I laughed at this great comedy. If there are any of Marc's performances. worth having it is this one. It blows V and Beastmaster out of the water by far! And it is one of the earliest Marc Singer performances recorded on video.

Another favorite performance is Marc Singers portrayal of blind musician/singer, Tom Sullivan in his college years in 1981's, "If You Could See What I Hear." This is one of the few other of Marc's comic roles. He's a playboy who struggles to find meaning in life until he finds that special someone to make his life complete. He's totally obnoxious, a real attention getter, and best of all, he sings and plays the piano in this. We see a side of Marc in "If You Could See What I Hear," I do not think has been shown in any of his other projects. Marc Singer comes from a family of musicians. His father, Jacques, was a great symphony conductor. His mother is a pianist, his sister Lori (Footloose, VR-5) is a Cellist, and his brother, Greggory is a violinist. In spite of one critic's harsh review of Marc's performance in this movie, the man CAN sing, and has a beautiful voice at that!

For those of you who have been tracking Marc's movies over on Ebay, it is not hard to see which of them goes for the highest price, up in the $50 range. I'm not sure what it is with "Something For Joey," (1976) but Marc gives us an emotionally charged performance as Heisman Trophy Winner, John Capeletti. John is as committed to the care of his baby brother, Joey, who is dying of leukemia as he is his own football career. Whatever Joey wishes for, no matter how challenging, John is willing to take the risk. And the wishes he grants his brother leads him to win the most coveted trophy in college football. As we reach the end of the film, when John accepts the award, he gives it to his little brother who he insists, his face awash with tears, is a hero due to his determination to fight leukemia. And you thought Little House On The Prairie made you cry? Marc Singer will bring tears to your eyes as he delivers one of his best performances ever!

Returning to his action-adventure roots, Marc gave us some pretty riveting, bang em up flicks in the 1990's. Some of his best heroic performances included the roles of Paul in Watchers II (1990), Mike Justice in Street Corner Justice (1996) and returning as Dar in Beastmaster II: The Portal of Time (1991). In Watchers II, Marc's character befriends a super-intelligent dog. One scene in particular will leave you in stitches as Marc engages in a rather interesting conversation with the dog who outsmarts him. This is one of four films Marc did for Roger Corman Studios between 1989-1990. And it is also the third one in which his co-star is Tracy Scoggins (Babylon 5). In 1996's Street Comer Justice we see Marc as an aggressive cop who is willing to do just about anything to take down some local gang members. Mike Justice's sidekicks are rather interesting. He's got a former prostitute and an ex-con turned Christian on his side. Of course, there's also the red headed lady who plays his love interest and beautifully sings the soundtrack for the movie. Mike Justice has all those romantic qualities we've come to expect from a Marc Singer role. In Beastmaster II: Marc's leading lady is none other than MTV veejay, Kari Wuhrer. Set in modern day L.A., Dar must stop his brother, Arklon, from destroying the earth. The dialogue provides a lot of laughs in this one as does Juliet Parrish style hairdo that Marc is sporting. And even better, the film reunited Marc with V: The Final Battle vixen, Sarah Douglas. Sarah makes a great witch in this movie!

And there you have the beginnings of what would make a great Marc Singer film collection. Of course this is just a minute overview of his works. As you start your collection, you may find that some ofthese are out of print. Do not fear. Just keep your eyes peeled on Ebay and bid away! For a more complete look at Marc's film career, be sure to visit the Internet Movie Data Base at www.IMDB.com

Cult TV Festival 2001 by Carol Duggan

Last October I went to the Festival for the first time. Held in Liverpool, England, it was a three hour train journey from London. I confess that I was a little anxious given the reputation Sci-Fi Conventions have with the "general public". As it turned out very few people were "in costume', but it was a little un¬nerving to find myself standing next to a life-size Captain Scarlet. The Festival was based in a hotel that was the subject of a "fly-on-the-wall" documentary! Luckily it turned out to be the swankiest place I'd ever stayed. I had threatened not to retain to work afterwards as
I was going to run off with a "Trekker". For some reason, they didn't believe me.

GREAT NEWS GANG-WE ARE NOT ALONE

At the opening ceremony they showed a number clips including an episode of Diagnosis: Murder. This video was about a murder at a Sci-Fi Convention. Afterwards the compere commented that the costumes look like cast off from "V". I was astonished at the number of people in the audience who nodded in agree¬ment.

PREVIOUS FESTIVALS

The first one was held in a Holiday Village in Norfolk 1994. The videos on show that weekend ranged from The A-Team to The X-Files. Those with a lot of stamina were able to stay up until 2 A.M. to Watch V: The Return.
The following year ''V'' was again included in the Video Rooms. This time around "The Wildcats" was shown at a more civilized time of 8 a.m., after the final episode of Twin Peaks.

No mention of V in the 1997 program. However the Highlights video for 1998 included Eric Pierpoint (Alien Nation) who made several references to Ken Johnson.
All was quiet again until Sarah Douglas attended in 2000. Her interview was included on the Highlights Video. Also the Brochure included a full page article with her photo and a list of the V movies and T.V. series episodes. Oh yes, Beastmaster 2 got a mention as well.

SO WHAT DID I GET UP TO?

Well, the first thing I did was cause a bit of chaos in the Dealers Room. I innocently admitted that I'd never seen Babylon 5 and asked one of the Dealers to show me the pictures Lady Ladira. Some of us knew her better as Fredi Olster, Marc Singer's costar in Taming of the Shrew. Eventually all of the available B5 fans were consulted and NONE OF THEM HAD THE SLIGHTEST IDEA!

There were several Video Rooms and I got to see lots of old TV programs like Target and The Sweeney (two English "Cops" shows), Robin of Sherwood and one I've never heard of before, Space: Above and Beyond. There was an episode of Buffy and the pilot for Smallville. 1 was rather disappointed with the latter but I hear it has had rave reviews. So I guess it was just me that didn't like it.

The Dealer Room had a variety of merchandise with a huge amount of Xena "stuff'. I spent a long time lurking by a stall crammed with folders of photos, stickers, key chains, etc. Plenty of pictures from "V" so you can guess which Dealer got most of my money!

Of course there were Celebrity interviews and autographed signings too. The ones I queue for were Sarah Sutton (Nyssa from Dr. Who), Sally Knyvette (Jenna from Blakes Seven), Nickolas Grace (Sheriff of Nottingdam from Robin of Sherwood).

Saturday was Awards Night, with prizes for the Best of...and The Worst of ... in all sorts of categories. The Lifetime Achievement Award went to Sylvia Anderson. I was amazed at the reception she got, as I hadn't realized that she is the equivalent of royalty!

Sunday was Cabaret Night. The first part was the Delegates Competition. This was won by two women as characters from The Simpsons. Complete with yellow faces and blue hair they had a comedy conver¬sation about McGuyver! Finally came the Celebrity party Pieces. Now although I'm a Hercules fan as well as an all time V Fan , I had always thought of Michael Hurst as the " irritating one". This meant that I didn't go to his interview or his signing, a fact that I now regret. His cabaret act was aimed well and truly at his English audience. Starting with a Victorian Music Hall Melodrama and including a song from Jesus Christ SuperStar and a sketch of an Irish Priest giving a sermon. His Finale was a British Pan¬tomime favorite -Nobody Loves a Fairy When She's Forty. He later signed the Fairy Wings and donated to the auction. If you ever get the chance to see him perform "Live" on stage, don't hesitate. This man is a GENIUS!
It was especially nice that the celebrities felt comfortable enough to mingle with the fans, who in turn didn't pester the stars. Michael Hurst was able to enjoy his breakfast in peace in the same restaurant as the rest of us.

Do you get the impression that I enjoyed myself? You bet I did, in fact I was one of the first 50 to sign up for next year, even before they had announced any guests!
The Cult T.V. Festival 2002 is in October, as it is every year. This time it is in Southport a Sea Town and famed for the beach where the Racehorse, Red Rum, was trained during his record breaking run

Of being 1st or 2nd in 5 consecutive Grand National Steeplechases. The guest announced to date don't in¬clude anyone with V connections I'm afraid. However, 2003 is their 10th Anniversary and to celebrate they plan on inviting back guests from previous years. As you will guess, I will be doing my besUo get Sarah Douglas included on that list. After all, 20 years of V and 10 years of The Cult T.V. Festival, what a perfect way to celebrate.

Go to http://festival.culttv.net.

Maruva's V Drinking Game by Mary Radus

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Around Sullom Voe (Quiz) by Carol Duggan

There used to be a longing running Radio Quiz show in U.K, called The Round Britain Quiz. It comprised in terms of 2 Radio Announcers from different regions solving a group of extremely obscure clues to find common links between them. They were award points for finding the links, and bonus points if they analyzed and solved the clue.
I've devised a version of the quiz, loosely based on the cast and characters in V. So start thinking "latteraly" and see if you can solve these...

1) Who is the link between these clues- The theory of relativity, Melanie Wilkes, Rock and Roll and Miss Ellie's second husband?
2) Who is the link between Mrs. Bennet's youngest daughter, the film Best In Show, and Agatha Christie?
3)What is the link between these c1ues- The head of decoration and The theory of evolution?
4) What is the link between these clues ... a Royal Wedding, An Australian Dolphin and Mrs. Peacock in the library?
5) Who is the link between these clues- Three Witches (but not Macbeth), "No Sweet Dreams Here, "Son of a chameleon," and "Confused, you soon will be?"
6) Who is the link between these clues- William Shatner, "A Whole in The Head," "The Man In The Wheelchair," and "I'll be back?"

Still Crazy About V search a word by Jaime Boler

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Last Roundup (fanfic) by Shadow

The Visitors had been clearing out the towns surrounding Los Angeles and if the resistance didn’t stop it, there wouldn’t be enough people to recruit to fight. With Ham Tyler's and his associate Chris Faber's help, the L. A. Branch had begun trying to arm, train, and organize the local people to try to fight off the round ups, but there were so many towns and they weren't always able to get to them in time.

Through Mike Donovan's contact in the Visitor Fifth Column, Martin, they1d received intelligence of another sweep & this time they intended to spring a bear trap on the Visitors that would make an impression on them. They were also going to have to move camp again, having learned early on the danger of staying in one place too long and they chose one of the recently deserted towns. Tyler and Chris walked slowly down the deserted street, peering between the empty houses which stood like mausoleums in a cemetery, firearms slung over their shoulders with the safety's off in case they needed to cover a retreat. It was as dead as an old west ghost town. Chris stopped and looked at his partner, "Well, what do you think?" Tyler, his face as expressionless as stone, nodded "It'll do. Let's check out the cemetery just to make sure." Chris nodded and they continued their way silently.

At the cemetery entrance, Tyler signaled a split and Chris headed to the left while he took the fight path. He was heading up the incline of a hill when he picked up the unmistakable smelt of decaying flesh and stopped, frowning. That wasn't right, these people were six feet down and even if someone had been recently buried, there shouldn't be any smell. He grimaced and exhaled sharply, then continued to follow the scent until it got stronger and then he froze, his face becoming granite. Two bodies lay side by side, barely covered by clumps of earth, as if someone hadn't been able to do more than break the ground up or just didn't take the time to real1y dig. What got to Ham was the child, a girl judging by the long, matted, raven colored hair, lying between them uncovered, as though she didn't matter. His jaw clenched and a vein in his neck began to throb, the only sign that the sight even affected him at all. He pulled his radio from his belt and barked into it, "Chris! Get over here." "I'm on my way" the voice crackled back. Before too long Chris was making his way at a run toward Tyler with his shotgun ready, but stopped dead, any words he might have been about to utter died in his throat when he caught sight of the tableau. "Oh, hell" and he looked down shaking his head. "Town's been empty for weeks and lizards don't bury the humans they kill." Tyler stated flatly, looking warily around. "No, but we do." Chris said and with that walked over to pick up a shovel laying next to the graves. He reached down to pick up the body, but as soon as his finger touched it the body jerked and snapped into a sitting position. Tyler did likewise and one hand went instinctively for the Uzi he carried as his heart seized up for a beat. Chris, who'd just picked up the shovel, dropped it again in that second and unslung his shotgun, but didn't bring it up. His mouth dropped open in astonishment, then quickly snapped shut again. "Welt, I guess that answers the question of who buried them." Ham had begun to breathe again as he looked down into the wide, terrified, brown eyes which darted from one man to the other and back again. Ham squatted down on his haunches and ducked his
head to look her in the eyes as he asked, uWhat's your name?" She simply stared at him, breathing hard. Then he reached out to her, but she shrank back. "How about we bury your folks for you?" he asked. She looked at the outstretched hand, then down at the poorly done graves and swallowed hard, then looked at his face. She reached for the hand and he helped her up, then led her aside. Draping his leather jacket over her shoulders he took off to find another shovel. She wrapped it tighter to herself and inhaled feeting safer than she had since the attack on the town.

***

It was early evening when they returned to camp and went in search of Donovan or Julie to report the location. Ham found them in the "war room" pouring over a map. Two pairs of blue eyes looked up expectantly at his approach and Mike snapped irritably, "You're late. We're doing this job tomorrow night and we need to relocate tonight." Julie laid a hand on his arm, "Mike." Then she turned and looked up at Tyler and asked hopefully, "Is this place going to work for us?" Tyler nodded to her,"Yeah. It's far enough from the other towns that the Visitors shouldn't pick up on the fact too soon that we're there, but not so far that we can't make a quick getaway." Turning to Donovan he shot back, "We were on burial detail" "What'd you do? Bury that old jacket?" Mike couldn't resist a swipe, even if it did sound childish. Tyler gave him a smile that would've frozen a lake, "I was thinking of getting a new one anyway, maybe something in 'gator Your friend Martin looked about my size." Donovan lurched at him, but was stopped. Julie was getting tired of the boys-on-the-playground routine "Enough!" she snapped, "We've got a lot to do and we don't have time for this!" and she led them out of the room.

***

Part of the group, led by Elias Taylor and Chris under Julie's direction, passed out arms and the Teflon ammunition to the residents and took up positions inside the homes while others hid themselves in the shadows between the houses. Julie, Donovan, and Tyler set up with the other half outside the town where the Visitors would be landing. “Elias? Chris? Is everyone in place?" Julie called over her radio. "Ready to rock an' roll doc." Elias's voice came back from one end of town. Chris came back to her from the other end, "We're all set here. The lizards are in for one hell of a surprise." "Good. Remember, wait 'tit all troops are completely in and they begin storming the buildings. Julie out." Tyler called to the fighters around them, “Any make it back to the ships, we hit em when they close the doors and not a moment before." "I just hope we don't loose too many people, theirs or ours, in this." Julie couldn't help feeling a little sick at the thought.

As they had been doing, the ships came in the middle of the night and the moment they landed, shock troops quietly poured out of them and headed into the town like a flood. As they surged into the darkened houses to drag the people out and load them into the transports, they were met with gunfire that ripped them apart and those that ducked between the houses to fire back from cover were likewise met. The survivors retreated to the vehicles and as the hatches began to close and the engines screamed to life, they became bonfires as rocket launchers fired rockets into them. One lone transport made it away. People poured out of the hoses cheering and townspeople and resistance fighters alike gathered the few injured to be taken to the new camp to be treated. The fighters gathered themselves and made to head toward the new camp.

Check Your Prophets (fanfic) by Jonathan Scott-Farley

*this fanfic was scanned and there may be some errors in text translation. If you find any, please leave a comment and the webmaster will correct it.

Far away from the capital city of Sullom Voe, in the middle of
a dry sea is the island of Woz. Now that the sea is dry,
'island' is a bit of a misnomer. Mountain would be a more
accurate description. As the tides receded, the people of
Wozport cut steps in the rock ever downwards to the waters.
Building their jetties of Wozma wood lower and lower until the
tides no longer came and the boats were burned. Today, to
reach the precipitous heights of Wozport, you have to climb
four hundred feet up narrow steps hewn out of the mountain's
rock. Wozport, once famous for its elegant cuisine such as its
renowned delicacy mammelplatz, until recently was a largely
forgotten place in the middle of nowhere.
Once men would prove their bravery to their prospective
mates by diving off Wozport pier, and swimming to one of the numerous jetties before they were attacked by the legendary
Murla fish. The famous Wozport dive became more hazardous the
lower the waters sank, but ardent males were sticklers for
tradition, and wouldn't give up the custom lightly. The
population declined.
Today the four hundred foot Wozport dive is into a
waterless sea, there are no Murla fish any more, but that
hasn't improved the survival rate. The dive is now generally
considered to be the most heroic way of committing suicide if
your prospective mate has turned you down. Others think it is
just plain vulgar exhibitionism.
There is no housing shortage in Wozport, and there is no bus service either. Old men sit on the veranda of Grakharl's Wine Bar and take refuge in talk of the good old days before these young'uns were in their eggs.
The young'uns were so bored that they'd hang around on the corner, throwing bottles at Grakharl's window to see if the old dragon would come out and rile them. When he didn't, they got so riled anyway, they would throw more bottles or find a corner on their own and practise swearing. The girls would sit on the walls kicking their heels just to see what would happen, or form into bitching circles and pick on the outcasts. This was a good game, you had to get enough like minded bitchers around you to be safe. One of the best at this game was Drognar, who was voted by all her classmates as being "the one most likely to be had by the leader." Unfortunately, at that point, the scribe ran out of room in the yearbook, and Drognar left for the bright lights of capital city with this thought in mind. What her classmates really meant was "for lunch". Still, Drognor is not part of this story, and whether he ate her in the end isn't important, but our glorious leader does like his meat well travelled.
Anyway, you'd wonder how this dusty streeted town halfway up a mountain could survive with no commerce. The answer to that came from the town council. The honourable treasurer Glik had been skulking in his home for two weeks before the council meeting, attempting to couch some simple words in accounting persiflage. His statement to the council was to be something along the lines of:
"Revered members of the council, honoured Elders and Matrons, For a time not below fifty planetary rotations, the town expenditure has exceeded its revenue, and we now find ourselves in a negative finance situation." Of course, what this really meant was: "Voted members, members who have a seat on the council because they did something heroic in the past that no one can remember, and egg layers. We're bankrupt." But to say it that plainly was a sure-fire way of having your head separated from your body. What Treasurer Glik needed was a nice governmental piece of techtalk, so for two weeks, he poured through government legislation for a method of saying that the town was bankrupt without saying that the town was bankrupt. He didn't come up with a word, but he did come up with a cure. "Revered members of the council, honoured elders and matrons. For fifty planetary cycles, Wozport has been in a financial wilderness, but no longer. I have found a solution to our problems, a new industry to replace the Wozport fisheries." Every member of the council remained quiet, not one apathetic mouth was raised in enquiry. After all, having work to do would spoil their routine of sitting outside of Grakharls and reminiscing. Grik continued.
"Best of all, this new industry will not affect our lifestyle at all." Now that was better, the matrons looked up from their knitting.
"All right said Chairman Phting, what is this new industry." "Religion "
"What?"
"Religion, all we have to do is institute a position of town luminary, and watch the money roll in."
"Ughh, that means nasty unwashed traveller's with geckos on bits of string wandering around our nice clean streets," said one xenophobic matron.
"Homeless invaders sleeping in doorways," said another.
"No, No, No!" Shouted Glik, trying to regain attention, "not
at all. We don't have to advertise our luminary, and we won't
lay on anything like transport for people seeking
enlightenment, and they damn sure won't walk across the dry
sea to find us."
"So no one will come," said the chairman, "no tourists, no
pilgrims, no one?"
"exactly," said Glik
"Doesn't sound like much of an earner to me," said the
chairman.
"but a Lamasery that's income drops below the cost of
existence qualifies for government subsidy. All we have to do
is prove that every business in the town is dependant on
income from the pilgrim trade, and the government will give us
all lovely handouts without our having to do anything."
"1 must say, I rather like the sound of that," said the
chairman. The plan was put to the vote, and passed
unanimously.
The next task was to find a luminary for the town. This
wasn't as difficult as you would think. Auditions for the
post were held in the town hall the following week. Many
prospective candidates were turned away as the auditions were
so over subscribed. The winning contender was Mrl Tilnok of
South side buildings. He had once been a Garla vet of the
third circle, but since the sea had dried up there were no
Garlas left. He walked into the audition room swathed in his ceremonial third circle veterinary robes which he had died black and painted the symbol of the eternal egg on.
"Hmm, " muttered the chairman, "comes with his own robes. What is your name?"
"The answer to that my son, you must find within yourself," said Tilnok.
"ho ho!" Exclaimed the chairman, and where do you come from" "My son," said Tilnok, "These answers you must find within yourself."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, han Went the council.
"All he has to do is repeat that if we ever get a visitor, and that's sure to keep seekers after truth away," said Glik. Tilnok was awarded the post on the spot.
Above the town on the pteranodon cliffs, a cave was hollowed out as the official audience chamber of the Sage of Wozport. A hidden elevator was also constructed so that Tilnok and his retinue would be able to get up there quicker than the seekers, who would have to clamber up the steep cliffs in true seeker fashion, (should any actually come). Every shop visage in Wozport was converted to an establishment that sought its profits from the passing seeker trade. Pilgrim trinkets shops, painted souvenirs of the cliffs of the sage. Authorized eating establishments purveying refreshments nfor Seekers only". No trade came, no money was taken over any counter, and the government slipped them a big bung of cash to keep the religious establishment going, after all, we have to preserve our traditions, don't we?
The council continued to sit in front of the wine bar reminiscing about the old days, and the kids practised swearing on the street corners just as they had always done. For two years, the town continued in a government subsidised lethargy, until one day the chairman came shouting at the council. He was so annoyed, he didn't even wait for the sunthly meeting, he came right out in the street and shouted. A despicable display to be seen, especially coming from a council member.
"What's got into you?" said Glik.
"I'll tell you, shall I. You're stupid plan has got us a visit from the government's crack squadron of revenue inspectors. They have a habit of shooting people whose book keeping isn't up to date."
"What are you talking about?"
"The government inspector of prophets will be doing a snap inspection, sometime in the next two months."
"So what? All we have to do is look like we're running the town for tourists that aren't coming any more, and show empty account books. We just have to show we are expecting an upturn in the industry at any moment."
"If we don't get shot, it'll be a bloody miracle," screamed the chairman storming off. Glik clasped his hands together in true meditation manner;
"for miracles, you must look within yourself," he said, making a passable impression of Tilnok. "Hey Kids," he shouted at the Young'uns who were trying out a new game called 'Kick the Curb'. "You all have to pretend you are impoverished urchins preying on the tourists and seekers, or you'll end up decidedly dead. If you don't play along, I'll make sure you are prematurely dead! Now get to the town hall and we'll give you some roles to play." The kids showed how much they had been practising swearing and making gestures, Glik walked over to the ring leader who flashed his face in defiance. Glik picked him up and threw him over the pier rail.
"Who's going to miss a chameleon?" He said, "You can never tell where the little sods are any way! Now get to the town hall, all of you!" The children ran.
For three weeks, the town got into their parts. Tilnok adjourned to his cave and practised giving sage advice. The children ran around trying to sell pilgrimage badges to each other and the owner of 'The Seeker's Rest' had to learn how to cook again, very quickly ..
At the end of the third week, a cruiser fell out of the sky and parked in the town square. For two minutes it remained quiet while the townsfolk looked on wondering if they would end up seriously dead, or just marginally decapitated. The cruiser had emblazoned on it's side 'Sullom Voe Government, Prophet Returns Department." The hatch opened and Glik stepped up to make the ritual obesence that it is well to perform to any government official, just in case.
"Salutations," said the officer that got out, "I am Inspector General Garlik, and I am here to look at your books." One of the youths ran up to the inspector and took his photograph. "Honoured Pilgrim," said the child, "it is a shame to have to
.ask you for ten Krivs for this souvenir photograph of your visit to Wozport, but if I don't, my dad will beat me!" Garlik smiled at the child, reached into his pocket, then shot him.
"Now, if we could get on, my time is precious,"
"Certainly," said Glik, "I have assembled all of the business account books in the town hall, if you•11 follow me."
"No," said Garlik, "I'm not from the accounts department, I'm from Prophet Returns, I'm here to inspect your prophecy
accounts."
"My what?"
"I'm here to examine your sage's prophecies. I hope you have been keeping a record."
"Of course," said Glik, "we will have to go up and see the town luminary though. Would you like to climb the ritual cliff face, or shall we go up the newly installed steps for the disabled?"
"Cut the crap, we'll go in the elevator you've built yourselves." Glik swallowed hard and waved the inspector to follow him.
Journeying in the elevator with Garlik could not be described as being a relaxing journey for Glik, who felt that at any moment he might be embarking on a more metaphysical journey upwards.
"Why do you want to inspect the prophecy returns anyway?" he asked, trying to make small talk.
"To make sure your sage is not saying anything immoral or
illegal of course."
"But prophecy is prophecy I thought," said Glik naively.
"Yes, and prophecy that predicts the downfall of our glorious leader is treason. It is punishable with some interesting methods of Death we've developed." Glik swallowed, being an accountant, he knew nothing about religious book keeping procedure, he just knew about money. His only hope was that Tilnok would get blamed and shot for the absence of accounting instead of him.
The elevator doors opened and they passed from behind a curtain into a cave that had been soothingly decorated in the most livid purple that its decorator, Loxen, had been able to find. Glik wanted to throw up, the colour was so sickening, but the inspector seemed to approve. Tilnok sat at the end of the cave chamber on his luminary's throne, hands clasped in meditation.
"Greetings my son," he said, "you have travelled far, I am prepared to prophesy for you now."
"Drop it," said Garlik, "where are the books?"
"The answer to that my son, lies in yourself." Garlik drew a gun and aimed it at Tilnok.
"I said drop it! Where are the books?" Tilnok shrugged,
"over there in the drawer," he said indicating a Wozma wood bureau to his left. The only piece of furniture in the cave other than his throne. Garlik walked over to it and pulled the drawer open. Inside were two ledgers, Garlik took out. the first and examined it:
"First prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Second
prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Third Prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Is that the only prophecy you hand out?"
"The answer to that my son ... " Garlik pointed the gun.
"No the long prophecies are in the other ledger." Garlik took the book out and examined it.
"But its empty," he shouted.
"Well, there's been no one worth prophesying for, yet."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Garlik.
"Come over here," replied Tilnok, "make the ritual devotion
and I will tell your fortune."
"Ho, ho," laughed Garlik, moving over and flipping his dorsal
in respect.
"You have come to Woz looking for evidence of Zonists, and
will go away angry because Zonism isn't followed here. But do
not be upset, when you get back to the capital city, you will
find you have been promoted, the leader has a new job for
you."
"Ho, ho, that's rich," said Garlik. Tilnok continued.
"Many years ago, the leader's scientists discovered a planet,
far away, and today, they return from their survey mission.
There is enough water on this planet to re-float Woz, and the
leader has decided that he wants the water. He has decided
that you should command his invasion fleet."
"What me? A prophet return's inspector?"
"Yes, you. Even now your promotion awaits you. This planet is
populated by a grotesque race of mammals who talk in a curt,
disgusting language and give themselves horrible sounding
names. Yet, the next craze to overtake Sullom Voe will be that
everyone will take upon themselves one of these names."
"That's right," interrupted Loxon, " he was telling me about
this just before you came in. I think I'll call myself
Oswald." Garlik pointed his gun and Loxon shut up.
"Always knew you were a fairy," said Glik.
"Is there any more," asked Garlik.
"Yes, you will call yourself John."

"John?" queried Garlik, "What a boring name! Make sure you
copy that prediction down in your returns," he said laughing,
"and 1111 see you in a few sunths when I return with the
device we reserve for false prophets."
Garlik left the cave, laughing all the way to his cruiser.
"How did you know about the returns books?" asked Glik.
"You didn't think I'd accept the job without doing a bit of
studying for it first, did you?"
"You realise that he'll corne back and kill you when he proves
that prophesy false, don't you?"
"It isn't false, I tell you, I've been studying. But I didn't
tell him all of it."
"What else is there then?"
"Well, the leader has only given him the post so he has
someone to blame if it goes wrong."
"Yes, and?"
"And he'll be shot by someone who used to live in this town.
You know, the girl who used to head that bitching circle. You
know, Drogna, but of course she'll have re-named herself by
then. Diana, I think it is."
"You're mad," said Glik turning to leave.
Well as you know, Garlik was promoted, and he did set out
in command of the leader's fleet. So he never did go back to
Woz. In fact, he never did get the time to tell anyone about
this amazingly accurate prediction before he left for foreign
planets. Except that is for his empathic advisor, Bragakah.
Bragakah was a very sensitive man, but easy to rile,
especially when he thought he was being duped, which isn't an especially good trait for an empathic advisor. One day, a sunth or so after the fleet had left, he decided that his life lacked fulfilment. He needed advice and direction, and who better to get it from than the sage that Garlik had raved about. Putting a sign on his door saying 'Gone for Consultation' he purchased the ritual accoutrements of a seeker. Cloak, thumb stick and satchel and set off across the dry sea basin towards Woz.
It had been seven sunths since Woz had been visited by the Department of Prophet Returns, and everything had reverted to its lethargic, apathetic norm. The kids had found a new game, it was called 'Whip the Wocket', when one of them noticed a tiny dot on the horizon. He pointed it out to the others, and over the next two days they watched it until it resolved itself into a traveller, coming their way. The Young'uns leader ran off to tell Glik. Day by day, the council stood on the pier and watched the figure approach.
"What do we do?" asked the chairman.
"The same as last time," replied Glik
"But he might be from the good sage guide" said the chairman, "if he is, we'll never get any peace."
"Then again, he might be a government spy, checking up on us. We'll just have to play it by tongue," said Glik.
Two days later Bragakah started to ascend the steps of Woz. In his journey across the dry sea, he had broken three fingers, and had set them himself. He had even wandered into a crivit patch, losing a few bites from his dorsal. When he reached the town centre, he was assaulted by urchins trying to sell him pilgrimage badges, and restaurateurs trying to force Mammalplatz on him. Bragakah ignored them all, walked to the rock face of pteranadon cliffs and began to climb. Up he journeyed, all day, pausing only on a rocky outcrop for some Grola Grass sandwiches before continuing to the cave. At twenty past dinner, he arrived, and panting heavily, entered.
Tilnok, sat in meditation on his throne, in calm reverie.
Glik stood behind, (they had used the elevator).
"You have journeyed far my son, I am ready to prophesy." Bragakah flipped what was left of his dorsal in the religious sign of respect and said;
"Oh wise one, my life lacks fulfilment. I need direction. Please tell me why I am here? What is the meaning of life?" "The answer to that, my son, lies in yourself," replied Tilnok.
"I don't believe it," cried Bragakah, his temper rising, "What did you say?"
"I said, the answer, my son, lies in yourself." Bragakah was not amused.
"I have journeyed for eight sunths across the dry sea, lost part of my dorsal to a Crivit, broken three of my fingers, and you give me that piece of Rex Shit! Tell me the meaning of life now, or I break this thumb stick over your revered ass!" "OK, OK!" said Tilnok, "You are forcing this out of me. The truth is that the meaning of life can not be found here." Bragakah stood up menacing his stick. Tilnok raised a hand in pacification. "But I can tell you where the meaning may be found."
Bragakah fell to his knees,
"Tell me oh wise one where I may find this truth."
"I hesitated in telling you because it is such an arduous
journey."
"No matter, I need to know."
"Very well. On the planet our leader has sent the fleet to,
there is a wretched land of ice and snow, and there on one
mountain top there is a tree which blooms once every hundred
years, when the snows melt. If you taste of this flower, you
will know the meaning of life. But to taste this bloom, you
have to avoid the giant creatures with vicious claws that roam
the land, and defeat the tribe who protect the tree. If you do
this, you will know the meaning of life."
"Revered sage," said Bragakah, "I will set out on this journey
today, I will find the meaning of life, or death will overtake
me in the trying."
Bragakah crawled back down the slope and set out over the dry sea back to capital city.
"What did you say that rubbish for?" asked Glik.
"He threatened me, didn't you see? Anyway, prophecy under
duress isn't lawful."
"You're getting good at this sage stuff, arenlt you."
"I try my best. Its just a pity that sometimes it is easier
for people to swallow a load of raptor dung than it is to
swallow the truth. The 'in yourself' is the only answer to
that question." Tilnok sighed and got in the elevator to go
home.
Now as it happens, it doesn't matter whether the quest he gave Bragakah was true or false, (it was false actually, but Bragakah never found out. The red dust got him first). The prophecy still did the damage that Wozport feared. Bragakah returned to capital city and before embarking on his quest to Earth, he told everyone about Garlik's true prediction and the perilous quest he was going on by the direction of this most revered of sages. The listeners told other listeners, until the whole of capital city was talking about the sage of Wozport. Seekers began to journey for advice, and when Tilnok gave one of his long predictions, it was generally accurate (he'd been practising). These seekers told other seekers until every seeker of truth was setting out to hear the wise words of the sage, which only goes to show that from a very small investment, you can get enormous prophets.
The citizens of Wozport never managed to regain their lethargic parochial life, Wozport became too busy with pilgrims and tourists, but it didn't really matter because most of them made a killing selling sucker bait to the gullible. No one noticed when the government withdrew their subsidy either, or even when they started taxing them, heavily. And that is how the little town of Wozport became the religious capital of Sullom Voe. If you stand on Wozport pier at night, the whole of the dry sea is illuminated by pilgrim campfires, and if the wind is in your direction, you might catch a sniff of the Wozma wood burning and the odour of roasting Grola Grass. On the other hand, if the wind is still, you can hear the faint strains of camp fire singsongs that the seekers of truth indulge in when they bed down for the night. Those classic pilgrimage songs that every child now learns in class such as "The Wozport sage has news for me." or "We're off to see the Lizard, the wonderful Lizard of Woz."

Rebel Without a Clue (fanfic) by Jonathan Scott-Farley

"this fanfic was scanned and there may be some glitches in text translation... if you find any leave a comment and the webmaster will fix it"


Diana was pissed off! Her mothership was parked again behind Earth's moon while she tried to dream up some kind of a cure for the red dust. She sure as Algul wasn't going to go back to the homeworld in disgrace, that would only lead to execution. She would have to stay here until she managed to solve the problem, then the leader would be pleased with her again. Diana poured through the scientific journals that had recently arrived from the homeworld, Especially the latest piece from the professor of chronology. Reading between the lines, she realized that he had been holding out on the leader. His latest piece on attenuation field technology was more revealing of his achievements to date than perhaps he had intended. Diana quickly tapped out a message to the leader. "Send Professor Ensenstrom to me immediately, very important.
Elikashions and mice, Drogna." Diana returned to her reading.

Professor Ensenstrom was dozing happily in his campus office, while school life continued its hectic processes around him. One of the good things about being professor of Chronology was that should anyone catch .him napping while he was supposed to be working, he could always say that he was deep into applying the mathematics of time travel to the physical world (in his mind of course). Everyone knew that time travel was possible mathematically, but applying the knowledge in the physical world was the difficult bit, so wandering around looking as though you were half asleep came with the teritory. Ensenstrom had published several works on the subject, had instantly become the most renowned chronologist on the horne world and consequently could spend a great deal of time asleep at his desk. If the truth must be told, Ensenstrom had gone a lot further. He had actually built a time machine, just in case the leader challenged him to produce something, but he wasn't going to show it unless he was in mortal danger. The consequences might not even justify that risk. Most people on the home world believed that a time machine would be some bulky box like structure that you sat in, to be whisked into the past, future, or alternative present, thanks to all the spoof adventures on Sullomvision. Actually, the machine was small, crystal like and was disguised at the moment as a fancy clock paperweight on his desk. All you needed to do to make it work was connect it to the vehicle you wanted to push through time and allow it to generate the attenuation field that temporarily displaced it from real spacetime. The professor dozed on in a feeling of security that was soon to be shattered, and it wasn't because he was a secret Zonist. His communicator beeped for attention disturbing his fitful slumber, it was incredible how comfortable the sayings of the prophet Algul was as a pillow.

"Professor," said the voice, "you will report immediately to
the shuttle bound for Earth. Your lectures have been cancelled
until you return. "

When Ensenstrom arrived on the sentry mothership, he was
escorted to his compartment by a guard. Rather than bother
with washing, he sloughed a layer of skin and threw it down
the disposal chute. Placing the time machine by his bed, he
went off in search of Drogna.

"Why did you have me brought here?" he demanded.

"Because I have a job for you." retorted Diana.

"What could I possibly do for you?"

"I want you to build me a time machine, of course."

"Assuming that I can actually build one, what would you do
with it?"

"We are at a bit of an impasse with Earth. We can't go there
because of the red dust, which according to my information was
developed from a hybrid bacteria in the Maxwell child."

"So what do you want with a time machine then?"

"I want to go back and stop Brian from making love to Robin
Maxwell. Then the red dust will never be developed."

"Time may not allow such rewrites," said Ensenstrom, "besides,
I may not be able to make one."

"I think," said Diana, "you are nearer to producing one than
you would like the leader to know. I wonder why?" Ensenstrom
swallowed hard, thinking of the completed unit in his room.

"I will certainly try, but it is mostly theory, it may not
work."

"It had better, for your sake."

"I will of course have requirements."

"No doubt. Draw up a list, and I will see to them." Ensenstrom returned to his quarters. How could he possibly give his masterpiece to this woman? he would have to work out a plan, but that shouldn't be difficult. After all, he was a theoretical mathematician of the inner circle, with qualifications in physics, psychology, and a few other subjects he had forgotten over the years. He needed to reduce the number of potential opponents for a start. It was bad enough having to deal with that social climbing woman Drogna. Ensenstrom sat down on his bed, pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and began to scribble.

The following day,' he went to seek out Drogna. The woman sat back in her chair with feigned resignation.

"I suppose you have an exorbitant list of demands" she said. " Not a very long one, " he replied, "first, 1 need complete access to the mothership's master control in order to install the attenuation circuit should I complete it, that is."

"Not granted," replied Drogna, "but I'll give you level two
access."

"I need complete access"

"Level two is all you get, what's next?"

"I want everyone except those directly involved with the project evacuated from the mothership."

"Impossible," said Drogna.

"Without this, I am afraid we can't continue with the project. I'm concerned with security. suppose we have fifth columnists on the ship, they might try to sabotage my work."

"I do have an alternative solution to these problems, but continue for the moment."

"I need a laboratory, not too far from the mothership bridge."

"Why?"

"Because if I succeed, I intend to shunt the whole ship backwards through time."

"That I will grant you, everything else is denied. Was there anything else you wanted?"

"No, that should do."

"Fine, I'll see what I can do."

The following day, Ensenstrom was installed in a new laboratory next to the bridge. He spent his first morning using the lab's mini-m~nufactory to build coil sets, and began to assemble part two of his plan, a little black hole generator that would in a nanosecond vaporise the bridge of the sentry ship, just in case things didn't work out his way. About lunchtime, he needed to get something from his cabin and walked out into the corridor to find a guard blocking his way. "Out of my way," demanded Ensenstrom.

"Not until the end of your shift, go back to work" Ensenstrom went back to work, and spent the afternoon seeing how many different materials he could make field retention coils out of. A totally useless occupation, but it kept him amused for hours. He was particularly satisfied with those that used Wozma wood as their drums.

At about quarter past dinner, Drogna walked in to examine his progress, and stared at the immense number of coils stacked up against the wall.

"Enjoying yourself?" she said caustically,

"Can't think when I have been happier," he replied.

"I have been thinking abut your request to evacuate the ship of all personnel. I have decided for the security of the project, to reduce the crew to a minimum of the bridge crew and James's regiment of fighters. I have ordered another mothership to come and remove all of the nonessential personnel. I will of course supervise the project from there too. "

"Of course," replied Ensenstrom sarcastically.

"When you have completed the project, you will take James and his regiment back in time to before the fleet arrival, and he will ensure that Brian and Robin do not create the starchild."

"And if I don't?"

"You have a finite amount of time to complete your task, if you don't, then my other plan will at least ensure the humans won't win. I have set the ship's Domesday device to explode the day after tomorrow when the moon is perfectly between the earth and the sun. The explosion will vaporise half of the moon's surface, and the sun's rays will push the dust into Earth's atmosphere, causing a new ice age. If you don't complete the project, then you will be part of that explosion."

"And if I do manage to complete it?"

"Then I will transmit the disarming code to James." Drogna turned to leave, "You have thirty hours." she said, closing the door

This was a blow. Thirty hours before yet another planet fell prey to this social climber, and with only level two access, he would not be able to disarm the device. What to do?

Ensenstrom started running control cabling from the bridge to the laboratory when the mothership had been evacuated, and got the bridge crew and James's soldiers running around the ship installing the field retention coils . He had to save this planet from the leader and that woman. He couldn't disarm the device, but his security access did allow him to move the ship. If he tried to move it to a place where it wouldn't do any harm however, Drogna would detonate the device before he had gone an inch. On the other hand, if he moved it to another time, Drogna wouldn't be able to transmit the code to the ship. It would blow up, there was no doubt of that, but if Ensenstrom could move it to somewhere safe, in space and time, at least he would have been able to protect one planet. There was nothing for it, he would have to use the time machine. Ensenstrom walked back to his cabin to get a book, trailed discreetly by James and four of his soldiers.

Ensenstrom entered his cabin and laid down on his rock. He couldn't move the ship forward in time, because Drogna would just catch up by coming the long way round, so he had to go where she couldn't follow, The past.

After a refreshing nap, Ensenstrom dressed himself and prepared for the task ahead. He slipped the time machine into his pocket, and left for his laboratory. Outside the door, James was slouching in the corridor, the other soldiers had gone to find something more interesting to do. James's pseudoskin always looked baggy on him, like an ill-fitting suit, and it's fair complexion didn't react well to his love of sun
lamps.

"You have another twenty hours," said James, "I will of course leave the ship at least an hour before detonation, so I need to know if you have done it before then." Ensenstrom shrugged and walked off down the corridor to his lab.

"Don't think you're going anywhere," he muttered under his breath. James followed him at a discrete distance, as usual.

Entering the lab, Ensenstrom locked the door to ensure against interruption, pulled the time machine from his pocket, and began to connect it to the control unit he had rigged up.

In no time, the device was ready, The only place he could go was the past, then he needed to find some open space so that the explosion didn't harm anything. About a hundred million years back should do it. Ensenstrom fed the time into his machine, and hit the activate button. The whole ship shuddered as it lurched itself into attenuated space. Ensenstrom looked approvingly at the machine's dial which indicated a speed of one hundred and twenty years per hour and accelerating. There was a bang, and the door collapsed from its runners under the force of the infinite-death cannon James held in his hands. "What's going on?" he shouted.

"You're too late," laughed Ensenstrom, "we're going back at over three years a minute. If we stop now, you'll have to wait ten years for the fleet to arrive!".

"Algul!" shouted James, pointing his cannon at the time machine and pulling the trigger. The crystal clock disappeared in a plume of glasslike dust. Ensenstrom laughed. The controller may have been broken, but the ship was still travelling backwards at an ever increasing speed.

"No one is going to abuse my invention," he shouted. James turned round and started running to the bridge. This time it was Ensenstrom's turn to follow. James sat down at the flight controls and started the sequence to break orbit. The ship lurched again in its attenuation field and James brought it out from behind the moon, he lifted it clear of the satellite and began to set course for the home world.


"It won't work," said Ensenstrom, "our race won't even have started to evolve by the time you get there." James pulled his gun out of its holster and pointed it at Ensenstrom.

"Stop this thing now!" he shouted.

"No," replied Ensenstrom, calmly.

"I will kill you!"

"Zon appoints each man his time of death, who am I to argue."

James pulled the trigger and Ensenstrom collapsed to the floor dead. The phase pulse of the blaster hit the magnetic field of a retention coil and ricochet back towards James who leaped out of his seat in time to see the beam destroy the flight control console. The ship shuddered again, and all power to the drive unit died. Free to float, the ship began to drift, slowly, at first but increasingly faster towards Earth.

"Algul!" exclaimed James again, running out of the bridge and
off towards the nearest fighter bay.

One of the first rules of existing in attenuated space, is not to move out of the attenuation field until it has synchronised again with real space. This is what James tried to do. He lifted his fighter off and flew out of the landing bay, straight at the field wall, as his fighter hit the wall, there was a bang and the control console began to smoke. parts of the hull surface disintegrated as its atoms fought for
existence over the microscopic dust particles that were floating around in real space. Most people think this kind of thing creates a new big bang, it doesn't. The losing particle sheds all its mass and becomes a pure quantum packet of energy. Light! James screamed and tried to cover his eyes, but the intensity of light being given off was too much, he was instantly blinded, and his skin started smoking from radiation burns. The fighter's power system died, leaving a blind and screaming James in utter darkness after the light as the fighter was suddenly thrown back into real spacetime and hurtling uncontrollably towards Earth. The Body-wing design of the fighter, like a cat, instantly righted itself when it hit the planet's atmosphere and began an uncontrolled descent across the top of the world, slowing under the friction burn up of its outer hull. James, barely conscious, crashed to Earth, near a little known town called Roswell in 1947. He survived for about half an hour after the crash, and his body, (though you would never recognise it), has been pickled ever since at area 51.

The mothership continued to drift towards Earth at an ever increasing speed, and an ever increasing pace backwards in time. It eventually hit Earth, detonating the Domesday device about 65 million years ago near a place in South America that would eventually come to be called Chiexulub. Which is a pity, because if it hadn't, the human race would never have evolved, and the Earth would have been ruled by a lizard species that the leader might have liked.

Final Hope (fanfic) by Gregory Dean

“From around the world sightings of mother ships not seen in two decades are being reported. From New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., London, Paris, Rome, the list is endless…”

“La Guardia, Kennedy… all reporting sudden grounding of all flights…”

“The President and Vice President are now en route to private bunkers at undisclosed locations…”

“The Department of Defense is reporting dark approach…”

“At this hour, ships are simply hovering all over the world…”

“At last count, over two hundred sightings reported…”

“The world appears to be on hold as we wait…”

“Stay tuned to this station for further updates as they become available…”


Julie ran towards the Suburban with Will close by her side. They jumped inside, locked the doors and fastened their seatbelts.

“Will, grab my cell phone and call your Dad at the station. Tell him, we’re on our way home.”

Will pressed the talk button.

“Nothing. They must be jammed.”

“Dammit,” she said, flipping on the radio.

“All members of the listening area. If you are on the road, please get home now as soon as possible. All major roads, highways and interstates are being shut down effective immediately. I repeat…”

“We’ve got to get home Will. We’ve got to get home…” Julie sped down the street and hit a bump. The vehicle swerved toward a tree but Julie missed hitting it.

She hit a traffic jam as she neared the bridge. The traffic was bumper to bumper and she watched and waited.

“Let me have that phone. I’ve gotta call Mike. Let him know we’re okay.”

She grabbed the phone and punched the talk button. Nothing happened.

“See. I told you,” Will said.

Julie grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and leaned her head against it. Tears were streaming down her face as Will placed his hand on her back.

Not again, she thought. This can’t be happening again.

“Mom. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Looking up he saw a large lightning flash come from the mother ship hovering over the city. He wasn’t convinced that he had seen anything until he saw the bridge in front of them begin to break away and collapse.

Julie looked up ever so slowly and took in a deep breath. Her eyes widened as she watched in horror the bridge falling into the water below, the bumper to bumper traffic falling into the void of her vantage point.

“Will, grab your stuff. We’re not going to be able to get home. We’re gonna have to leave on foot.”

They scrambled for the essentials and Julie grabbed her flare gun and the cell phone.

She could hear the screaming as they left the vehicle behind in the traffic of blaring horns.

Mike looked into the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen what you’re seeing is an attack by what we believe to be the return of the Visitors.”

He gulped, trying to maintain composure. “Dan Jamison is on the scene. Dan, can you tell us what’s going on there?”

“Mike…Mike…it’s mass chaos here right now. We were on our way back to the studio when we got stuck in this traffic jam. My God. Look at the size of those things. They appear to be much larger than before…”

People were running in the background. Screaming overpowered Dan’s words.

“People are fleeing their vehicles and running for their lives…”

The studio lost signal with Dan as the crowd overtook the scene.

The director held up a handwritten sign.

“We now return you to network coverage of these events.”

“We assume the ‘first wave’ of attacks is focused on major thoroughfares of transportation. San Francisco is reporting a massive attack on the Bay Bridge. New York is reporting a similar attack on the Manhattan Bridge…”

Mike watched in horror as live shots from around America filled the screen.

“It appears these attacks are, for the time, focused on the United States. At this hour, reports from other countries detail peaceful hovering of their mother ships.”

“Danielle, have you been able to reach my wife?” He asked, eyes not moving from the screen.

“Sorry, Mike. All the lines are jammed.”

He knew Julie must be as terrified as he was. He hoped Will had made it home safely. And Meg. Poor Meg. He felt powerless. Julie had been right. Letting her go so far away…. And Sean….he was a survivor. Sean would know what to do. Yes, Sean would be okay.

“We’ve got to get to shore, Patty,” Sean stammered as he steered the boat on course.

Storm clouds began to move in around them.

“Where we going?” She asked frantically.

“I know a place not far from here. We’ll be safe there.”

The mother ship had passed over them and he looked back to see it going towards land.

Patty was sobbing.

“We’ll be alright. Trust me…”

Robin watched the mother ship moving above them. Her hands nervously grasped the crucifix on the chain around her neck.

“Look at the size of those S.O.B.’s,” Conroy said excitedly, as his camera focused on the underbelly of the mother ship.

The panicked crowd was now running away from Elizabeth who was still standing in the water. She felt the whispers of the others around, speaking in their voices to her. Slowly her eyes closed, as she gave into their words and moved in the water.

“Oh my God! What is she doing?” Robin asked in fearful awe.

Conroy turned his camera to Elizabeth.

“She’s walkin’ on the goddamn water. Sweet Jesus…I don’t know which one to look at,” Conroy said, focusing his aim on Elizabeth as she walked trancelike towards the shore.

“ELIZABETH!!!” Robin shouted.

The words shook Elizabeth. Her arms extended from her sides while her eyes opened with a glow about them. She lost her footing on the water. Her arms outstretched, she fell back as the water engulfed her.

The doors of the security facility swooshed open as a group of uniformed armed guards rushed down the hallway. One after another, the bars unlocked and lifted.

The man leading the team had a look on his face of purpose and disdain. He was dressed in black and commanded attention as he approached Charlie and the other guard.

“Commander!” Charlie exclaimed. “You never come down here…”

“Take me to her,” Ham Tyler ordered. “Now!”

From the alley Julie poked her head out to see the mass of people invading the street as they ran from what moved above the buildings.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she told Will, pulling him by the arm down the alleyway.

“We are we going?” he asked.

“To the clinic.”

They ran through a maze of abandoned alleyways, avoiding the main streets. She saw a band of rats scurrying away into a sewage drain.

“Will, you’ve got to move faster!”

“I’m running as fast…as I can.”

The sky above was turning darker as the mother ship loomed above, blocking the light.

If we can just get to the clinic….Julie thought. We’ll be safe there.

“Damn these phones,” Mike said, slamming the receiver. He looked at the monitor.

The mother ship loomed slowly over the city like a dark cloud. The official report was the attacks had ceased for the moment. All major roadways were affected. Vehicles were lined up in traffic but no one was in them. Everyone had abandoned them.

He had to get a hold of Julie. He had to know that she and Will were okay.

“Mike, we need you back on the set,” the director said.

“On my way.”

He hustled to the set and took his place behind the desk where Lisa applied powder to his face.

“A l’il shiny. That’s all,” Lisa tried consoling him.

“And we’re on in three, two, onc,” the director announced. Lisa stepped out of the way.

“This is Mike Donovan with a local update. We have just received confirmation that a special live feed from the New York mother ship is expected anytime. Stay tuned for our special coverage of this development as it unfolds.”

Sean reached the beach first.

His arms and legs were sore as he lifted himself up and trudged heavily on the sandy shore. He ran back to Patty and placed his arm around her.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeh. Fine, Sean.” She wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked up the beach in the rain.

Patty pointed up at the cliff above. For a moment her mind escape the panic.

“Look at that. It’s beautiful…”

A lighthouse stood in dire need of repair.

“Is that where we’re goin’?” she asked.

“We’ll be safe there. I promise.” He grabbed her hand as they ran through the rain toward the lighthouse.

Julie pulled Will by the arm into another alleyway. They were less than a block from the clinic. She spotted Dan Jamison and his cameraman running with the crowd.

“Dan!!” she yelled, waving her arms.

Dan barely heard her over the chorus of chaos and struggled against the crowd to the alley where she was.

“Julie? Will?” He asked but the mob was too forceful. “Bob get that camera on her.”

Bob jerked around and focused the camera on her.

With quick thinking Julie opted for another means of communicating.

She raised her hands and began to sign as quickly as she could.

She finished with a gesture of her two fingers in the shape of the letter V. Tears ran down her face as Dan and the cameraman disappeared into the throng.

Charlie and the other guard did as told. No further questions. They led Commander Tyler and his team to the barred glass cell. Ham stood for a moment and peered into the darkness.

“Turn up the lights. I wanna see her.”

The fluorescent ceiling panel slowly lit up and at first Ham didn’t see her. Slowly, in the corner, he saw her come into focus. The light was blinding at first to the reptilian eyes but quickly adjusted.

For a moment they stared at each other. Their eyes locked, calculating the other’s move.

“Commander Tyler. How nice of you… to drop by.” The slits of the eyes narrowed while the arms and a regenerated length of tail curled around the reptilian nudity as she stood to her feet.

“Modesty in your old age?” Ham commented, eyes never leaving hers.

The mouth forced a smile of jagged teeth and the face changed to a matter of seriousness.

“I’m fully aware of my people’s return to your planet. I… could be…of great resource to you.” The mouth curled with a smile as she approached the glass.

“My, my, Diana…Always one for self preservation.” He paused. “However, I come bearing different news.”

A look of interest and curiosity showed in her eyes. She stood face to face with him, only barred glass separating them.

“You’re being relocated.” His nostrils flared.

Her eyes narrowed. Interest and curiosity faded into controlled panic.

“Not quite the homecoming you expected?” Ham asked in a mocking tone.

With a laugh, he turned away and back to the guards.

“Sedate the bitch. Get her ready for transport. Use extreme force if needed.”

Julie unlocked the basement door of the clinic as she rushed Will inside. She locked it behind them and together they struggled with two heavy file cabinets barring the door.

“We’ll be safe for the time being here.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“I have to think. I have to have time to think, Will. There’s an old TV set around here somewhere. See if you can find it.”

She mulled over her options. She had to come up with a plan. Her mind raced.

Mike watched as the network covered the events. Los Angeles was full of people running aimlessly in the streets, some beginning to loot businesses. He hoped Meg was all right and he felt tremendous guilt, as a man, as a father that he was unable to do anything...but wait. It was as if everyone was suddenly paralyzed by the second coming of….them.

“Everybody quiet,” the director commanded as the network interrupted their coverage.

The monitor went black. A great silence filled the studio as they took a collective breath.

A face filled the screen. His eyes seemed to peer eerily back at Mike. The eyebrows arched and the lips slowly covered with a Cheshire Cat smile.

Televisions around the world filled with the extreme close-up of his face. People stopped running in Time Square and peered up at the large mounted screen. Viewers were glued to the face, waiting, as seconds became an eternity.

Slowly his mouth began to open and the words reverberated from his lips.
“People of Earth. My name… is Adam. On behalf of my people, I bring you greetings.

As you are quite aware, intel indicates your planet is now free from a previously… toxic virus. So, now, we have found it safe for our return.

Twenty years ago, my people arrived from the constellation Canis Majoris to your planet with a mission of peace, offering an abundance of wealth and knowledge. In exchange, we requested your help in saving our dying planet by sharing your common elements and resources.

Our mission today remains the same… with minor adjustments. We still hope to co-exist, working with you, in this… new Millennium as a more… united standing ways heavily in the hearts of my people.

With sensitive consideration we return to you with an acceptable manner and physicality. Our renewed goal is to promote a safe assimilation into your society and present that we, too, can be viewed as similar creatures.

To the people of the United States I have this say:

Today’s attacks on your transportation systems are a small, but necessary means of gaining your full attention and utmost cooperation with matters at hand.

I, as appointed leader, must first request the safe return of all prisoners of war you may possess. In particular, one whom you call “Diana” is of… great importance. Our media research indicates she was sentenced to life imprisonment at an undisclosed facility in your United States.

As well, I request the presence of one known as The Great Light. My people are very interested in her spiritual gifts and knowledge that link us together. It is our sincere hope she will graciously accept this invitation and possibly assist us in bridging the gap between our worlds, bringing peace and unity to our races.

In turn, we shall receive the actions of your United States as speaking for the rest of the world as you stand most representative of your… United Nations.

For now, I wish all of you… peace. Thank you.

“End transmission…”

Julie watched the red insignia fill the screen of the small TV set. Her heart raced. The insignia turned in her mind like a swastika.

“He looks human,” Will said, eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t know them like I do,” Julie commented, placing her arm around her naïve son. “Don’t be fooled. They’re not our friends. They only want to disarm us with their talk of peace and unity while they take everything away we hold so dear.”

“Why do they want this Diana person back so bad? And ‘The Great Light’. What are they talking back?”

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth Maxwell. You’ve watched her show a million times. They want them both back…”

“Yeh, but why?”

“Power. It’s all about power and who has it. If they have them, they hold the power to controlling the rest of us.”

“What’ll happen now?”

“We wait, we listen, question and then…” Julie grew quiet.

“And then…What?”

We act, she thought to herself. We act as if we never have before…


“Is she out?” Ham asked, looking at the restrained form.

“Yes, Commander. It took a heavy dose, but she’s out like a light now.”

“Good.” He gripped the restraints and tested them. “I don’t want that face restraint coming loose. All I need is for her to wake up and eat someone.”

“Perfectly safe, sir. We’re ready for transport.”

Diana’s unconscious form was carted on a two-wheeler restraint board to the elevator by two armed guards and their commander. The doors swooshed open after he inserted his access card.

“Commander,” Charlie said, grabbing the door as it was beginning to close. “There was a transmission for you from head of security.”

“And?”

“Sir, they want us to keep her here. Their leader is requesting her safe return.”

“No can do. There’s no way…”

“Security is sending an escorted helicopter for transport to New York City. We’re under orders to take her to the roof in the next half hour.”

Ham looked back at him, his jaw clenched tight. Slowly, his face relaxed and he took a deep breath.

“Tell them we’re… on our way to the roof now.”

The doors swooshed between them and Ham looked at the two guards on each side of Diana.

Not a chance in hell, he thought to himself.

“Somebody call the paramedics!” Robin shouted as she helped drag Elizabeth from the water.

“She’s not breathing,” Conroy said as they laid her on the beach.

Robin placed her ear to Elizabeth’s mouth but couldn’t hear breathing.

She tilted the head back as some water escaped the mouth.

“C’mon…don’t do this to me. Don’t do this…” She began to cry.

She pinched her daughter’s nostrils and placed her mouth to hers. Giving two quick breaths she waited for a response. Nothing. She began quick, steady compressions to Elizabeth’s chest.

“Where’s the paramedics?”

“They’re on their way Ms. Maxwell…they’re on their way.”

Ham pushed the elevator’s button.

“Sir, what are you doing?” Asked one of the guards.

Pulling his hand up, Ham produced his sidearm. “There’s been a slight change of plans gentlemen.”

“But sir, you heard the order. We’re expected on the roof.”

“I’m quite aware of the order.”

One of the guards started to move his rifle.

“Don’t think about it,” Ham warned, his finger on the trigger. “Hand over your weapons, boys. I don’t want unnecessary wet works.”

The doors of the elevator swooshed open as Ham flung their weapons over his shoulder.

“From here on out, I’ll be giving the orders. Understand?” He motioned the guards with his sidearm to move Diana’s restrained form.

“Hustle boys. Get a move on.”

He covered them as they rushed down the ramp to a small moving van as this part of the original plan.

He flung the doors open and they lifted the body inside.

“Okay fellas. Inside.”

“But sir, we’re disobeying a direct command.”

“Do you have a death wish, Bryant?”

The guard went silent. Ham pulled the doors shut and locked them tight. He ran to the front of the vehicle and jumped in the driver’s seat.

Revving the engine, he yanked the stick shift and floor boarded the gas pedal.

“On to Plan B,” he said, racing toward the open gates.

“Thank God you’re here,” Robin said, tears streaming down her face.

“We’ll take it from here, ma’am,” the paramedic said, moving towards the body.

“Is this Elizabeth Maxwell?” The other asked.

“Yes, yes. Please…help her. You’ve got to help her.”

The paramedics checked her vitals then proceeded with mouth to mouth and CPR.

“She’s not responding. How long has she been like this?”

“A couple of minutes, I’m not sure. Please…do something.”

“Ma’am, we’ll do everything we can. I promise.”

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Julie told Will as she handed him a blanket.

“What about Dad?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s at the station and I’m sure he’s just as scared as we are.”

“Dad scared? That’ll be the day.” Will smiled at her as she ran her hands through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“You try and get some sleep, okay sweetie.”

“Okay.” Will lie down on the cot in the storage room. “Mom?”

“Yeh,” Julie said, as she stood in the doorway, an empty juice bottle in her hand.

“Everything will be alright.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

In the hallway, she stopped and leaned back against the wall. She worried about Meg and Sean and hoped they would be all right. Maybe in the morning, the phone lines would be clear and she could hear their voices on the other end of the line.

Tossing the juice bottle in the waste can she ran her hand down the back of her neck. Her mind was tired and her shoulders were sore from being so tense. Walking to an over chair she flopped down and leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Just a quick nap. A quick power nap and I’ll be able to come up with something…


“What is it?” Mike asked, looking at Dan Jamison.

“I got Bob to film this as we were on our way back to the studio. I knew you’d want to see it.

Mike watched as he crammed the videotape in the editing room’s console. The monitor showed Dan running with the crowd. He pressed the fast forward button until Mike saw Julie’s face come onto the screen.

Mike watched intently as Julie’s face looked quiet. He focused on her moving hands.

“I know she must be trying to let you know that she’s okay.”

“She’s got Will with her. They’re okay and…she loves me.” Mike’s heart pounded nervously as she formed the peace sign in the shape of the letter V.

Mike touched the screen, his hand touching Julie’s as the screen lit up his face.

Conroy stood with his arms wrapped around Robin.

“Everything will be fine. Elizabeth will be fine.”

Robin watched over his shoulder at the crowd of spectators encircling her daughter.

Tears streamed down her face as she saw the crowd begin to disband and she saw the paramedic moving from the crowd as he came toward her.

He moved slowly, an air of despair covering his features.

Robin pulled away from Conroy and as if life were moving in slow motion she began to run toward him, toward Elizabeth. As the crowd moved away she noticed the other paramedic leaning over the body.

“NNNNNOOOOOO!!!!” She stopped in her tracks her mouth moving with the word as she saw the sheet being pulled over Elizabeth’s face.

Poetry by Petra Boujung and Sabine Krueger

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