Alien Deception (7 page)

Copolla rose quickly to the position of delegate's aide on the Council. He moved through the ranks quickly by keeping his eyes and ears open to what was going on in the Council, as well as outside of it. He stuck to his philosophy and made it his business to know everything about anyone he dealt with. All, interestingly enough, usually had some type of skeleton in their closet, if they didn't, he would masterfully put one there for them. He had used this method throughout his career, and still continued it. That was how he had become the Leader of the Council. Now that he had the power to control and manipulate through fear and intimidation, he planned to keep it.

He swiveled his chair to face the window, and reclined into a position where he could look out into the night sky as the Zirean atmosphere glowed in its strange colors. The stars couldn't be seen through the mixture of gases that remained in the poisoned atmosphere. He missed the stars and the travel to other worlds, he thought in a rare burst of nostalgia.

But that's going to change,
he said to himself as he slammed his fist down on the desk.
I have some plans for this Council and for this galaxy. It's time for me to become innovative and creative.
He then laughed evilly at his own humor.

He returned his concentration to the matter at hand, his plan to take down Leumas and tie up some loose ends at the same time. These loose ends could hurt his position as Leader if anyone ever found out about them. But no one was going to find out because he would take care of all of them at once.

"Damn historians," he snorted derisively. "They have to record every little thing. I'm surprised they missed my nosebleed back in ninety-four."

When Copolla had discovered that records existed of his supposed secretive dealings in the previous contact with the planet Earth, he had had the majority of the incriminating documentation removed. He ensured that he left just enough data to carry out his plan, or enough to be perfect bait for someone, more specifically someone like Leumas.

"Happy fishing, Leumas," he chuckled. He felt quite proud of himself in the way he had maneuvered the Council into the selection of the two subjects from Earth
.

It had almost been too simple,
he thought, smirking.
Plant a member here, a member there, promise them a little something they want or something they don't want to get out. How gullible some of these Council members were,
he thought cynically.

Earth's computer records were so primitive that the normal Council criteria could not be used in selecting the two new subjects. Of course, he had known this; so he formed a committee to presumably search archival records in order to locate two subjects who did meet the criteria.

The subjects had to represent a viable cross section of Earth's sociological and cultural beliefs and had to have the potential to adjust to the assignment as directed by the Council. He had handpicked the committee, so when he suggested two individuals, the selection was already made. It had required some minor substantiating and adjusting of files before presenting the information to the Council. He had expended quite a few resources and used up plenty of favors in locating the two Earth subjects he wanted.

He rose from his chair and walked around the desk to his liquor cabinet. He poured himself a stiff drink of Antarian whiskey, and watched the yellow liquid steaming briefly as it left the protective safety of the insulated bottle. He raised the glass in a toast to himself and then downed the drink in one quick gulp, closing his eyes in pleasure as the liquid warmed his massive body. He placed the glass down on a table and moved to the center of the room.

He spoke aloud to no one, an evil smile playing about his lips. "Once my plan comes to fruition, all the loose ends will be tied up, and I can move on to the next phase. I, and I alone, will redefine the UCDW's role in the cosmic scheme of things." Nodding his head in agreement with himself, he continued, "And yes, Leumas, I have some initiatives that I also want to pursue. But, unlike you, I have the power to do something. And that, my good friend, is the key to success."

Copolla checked the time; he was waiting for the arrival of one of his agents. His agents were essentially personnel not found on anyone's payroll or employment records who completed certain tasks for him when necessary. They could move unnoticed within certain circles, ones not commonly frequented by those of prominent stature. They were paid extremely well, but only if they conformed to the rule of employment: the insertion of a tiny loyalty device into the cerebral area. It was an item designed and perfected by Copolla. If the agent performed his job as directed and remained emphatically loyal, all was well. If not, their services were no longer required, and he would then press a certain key on his computer, and poof, no more loyalty problem.

He walked around his immense, ornate office humming a disjointed tune, contemplating his next move. He chuckled ironically when he realized the song was from a Zirean funeral procession. His plan to rid himself of Leumas was still in its early stages, but he wanted to make sure things were going as scheduled. Copolla had sent for the agent he'd directed to oversee this little operation, and he was now impatiently anticipating his arrival, wanting the progress report.

Besides his personal reason for his selection of these particular Earth subjects, Copolla knew that they would be very difficult to indoctrinate. Their temperament and dispositions alone would slow down Leumas’ progress. Also, he had some other little stumbling blocks of his own that were going to creep up in the process, compliments of another one of his agents. He would then use these presumed faults in Leumas’ abilities to indoctrinate the subjects to prove Leumas’ ineptness. This would show the members of the Council that their dear Leumas possessed shortcomings that would not be worthy of a higher position.

"You have a visitor," his computer notified him in a cold metallic tone. "Identity, visiting emissary from Celtic 3."

He chuckled at the term emissary as he released the lock mechanism on the door. Agent Journo entered his chambers cloaked in a dark robe that was certainly befitting of an emissary paying a courtesy call to the Leader of the United Council for Developing Worlds. It always amazed him how Journo came up with these false identifications that could fool even his most advanced computer.

Well, that's what I'm paying him for,
he thought as he observed Journo’s approach.

His large humanoid frame was not as impressive as Copolla's but it still advised caution, being six feet in height and two hundred pounds. Journo removed the cloak that hid his head from view, revealing the bleached white skin of his face, his veins clearly visible as they crisscrossed over his skin. His eyes were completely black, and no pupils could be seen within them.

Copolla liked Journo because he behaved more like a robot than a living being. Tell it what to do and it was done, and that was exactly how he wanted it. Copolla moved to his enormous chair, and sat leaning back, staring at Journo.

"Report, Journo," he said curtly.

"I have an inquiry," Journo stated in a monotone voice.

Copolla, who was in no mood for questions, spoke vehemently. "The report Journo! Do not waste my time! I'll ask the questions around here."

Journo's face showed no outward sign of fear at the outburst. Instead, he proceeded in the same unemotional voice he always used.

"Leumas has succeeded in retrieving the two subjects from Earth. I laid some minor obstacles to increase his difficulty, but he was able to maneuver around them. I took no further actions as I did not want to give myself away, or make it obvious that someone was trying to hinder his progress."

"As were your orders," Copolla said. "You were to do just enough to get him thinking, just enough to make him a little paranoid about all of this. I want to keep him on the edge," he said with a menacing smile, as he envisioned Leumas stumbling over himself around Earth.

Journo continued his report. "His ship left Earth's orbit about two standard hours ago. He has the bodies of the two humans stored in cold stasis."

"So you made him squirm. That's good. Very good. Is there anything else?"

"You might be interested in knowing that Leumas used influence on an Earthling, a woman. From what I understand, it was a nurse in the hospital who was not going to release one of the bodies as quickly as he would have liked."

Copolla began to smile as if someone had just given him a gift. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he said, "Yes, that is very good news, Journo. Using influence without prior approval from the Council, tsk—tsk—tsk. Oh yes, that little fact may surface again. But not just yet. We'll save that for later."

He went on, speaking more to himself than to Journo. "His next move should be to begin the indoctrination process of the two subjects. I would like to know how he will proceed, especially on such primitive aliens. He certainly will have his hands full, won't he?"

Not waiting for any answer, Copolla said, "Earlier you asked something? What was your question?"

"Nothing of any noteworthy importance for a life form with stature such as you," Journo said, with an unusual hint of sarcasm.

Copolla reddened a bit and almost challenged the tone of the comment, but he had other things to concern him at the moment. He did, however, make a mental note of the impertinence. He waved his hand, dismissing Journo. Journo, understanding that he was done, turned on his heels, replaced the black hood over his face, and left the chambers.

Copolla turned toward his computer and began furiously to enter data. He was smiling smugly as the screen's illumination added eerie shadows about his face.

Chapter Seven

NEXT STOP: THE PLANET ZIRE

Greg opened his eyes with the strangest feeling.

What the hell is a U-C-D-W?
He thought as he remembered a strange voice he heard in the dream. He licked his lips and rolled his tongue across his teeth, noting that his mouth had a really bad taste in it, more than just the usual morning breath. It had a metallic type taste.

UCDW, never heard of that one before,
he thought as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

As his eyes focused on his surroundings, he realized he was not in the bedroom of his apartment, the one with the massive laundry pile in the corner. This room was plain and white and possessed a cold and sterile feeling to it. He felt a lump of fear settle in the pit of his stomach.

"What the hell is going on?" he said, in a loud voice meant to attract someone's attention. "What did I do last night?"

He struggled to recall the events that might have led to his waking up in this strange place. He didn't think it was one of those too many beers from the night before mystery, but right now he wasn't sure of anything as the adrenaline sped up his heart rate. Suddenly his mind conjured up the image of the large refuse truck in the parking lot at work.

"The truck!" he screamed, his voice echoing in the sterile room that was completely empty except for the bed he occupied. He took a survey of his body, moving his eyes up and down the various body parts, looking for any signs of missing or mangled limbs. But he saw none, no bloody bandages or steely stitches oozing all over his body. His body was fine, and it was enclosed within some sort of blue jumpsuit made of a material that reminded him of silk, or something close to it.

"I must be in the hospital," he said, trying to convince himself. "It all looks so clean and sanitary. That must be it. Nurse? Nurse?" he questioned the little room, hoping someone would hear, but there was only silence.

He tried to sit up and, in sudden panic, realized that he could not. He tried to force himself up, but he couldn't budge. There was no sign of any straps or rope of any sort. It was as if hundreds of tiny invisible fingers held him from the neck down. "What the hell is going on? What kind of place is this? Hey!" he continued, the bile rising in his throat, a mixture of both fear and anger. "Is there anyone here? Hey!"

Silence.

He craned his head as far as he could, looking for something, anything that was holding him to the bed. Still, he saw nothing, but he could still feel those non-existent hands holding him, keeping him immobile. The more he tried to get up, the more pressure was exerted to keep him in place. He resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going anywhere, at least for the moment, anyway. As he ceased his struggles, the pressure became minimal, but was still evident.

He forced his mind and body to return to some kind of calmness. His heart had been beating so quickly with panic that he could still feel his heartbeat throbbing in his head.

"Okay," he began, trying to rationalize. "I need to reason out what is going on here. I need to talk to someone. Someone has to be here. Someone put me in this place to begin with."

Once again, he craned his neck as far as he could and shouted, "Is there anyone here? Hello? I'm in here! Can anyone hear me?" His voice seemed to die in the room. There were no sounds and no one was coming. He laid his head back in despair as the silence engulfed him. Then, suddenly, he heard it, a small sound. His head snapped back up.

"I knew it. There is someone here. Hello?" His voice lifted in hope.

He looked around the room for the source of the noise and didn't see anything. He did it again, this time more slowly, and noticed that a panel in the wall was opening up. He turned his head as far as he could and looked closely. There weren't any seams in the wall or any natural opening, but regardless of this fact, it was opening up just the same. A strange apparatus began coming out of the opening. Coming out might not be the best way to describe it; rather, it was unfolding itself from the wall. He stared at the opening intently as the device revealed itself to his widening eyes.

"What the hell is that?" he asked the empty room.