In Re: Crew of Spaceship ZPX47
by Mark Reasoner
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
Morton County, Kansas
Deputy Sheriff Dave Crandall cruised easily down County Road 311 as dawn broke in the east to his right when two fireballs lit up the sky and two sonic booms rattled his Chevy Suburban.
“What the...?!” he exclaimed and watched the two bright objects descend to his left. He saw smoke and flame erupt from the fields just over his visible horizon. Crandall grabbed his radio. “Dispatch, this is unit three. I have two impacts west of CR 311 on the McKenna land. I’m headed into the field to investigate. Send backup, call the state boys, and send the fire department, too. We may have a grass fire.”
“Roger, copy all,” the dispatcher replied.
Crandall turned down a gravel access road. About two miles later, he was even with the impact area and could see two distinct fires burning in the center of an expanding area of smoldering tall grass. He turned off the road toward the area, passing over burning grass, entering a charred area around two burning hulks. He saw two creatures, one on its knees with arms reaching upward and the other pointing a weapon at the first.
Crandall parked his vehicle, grabbed his pump-action shotgun, and making sure his sidearm was ready, walked toward the creatures.
As he approached, the kneeling creature called out. “Help, please!”
The standing creature turned to Crandall. “Stand away, hu-man, this is Ulnarian business. It is not your concern.” The alien wore a silver one-piece coverall with pouches on its upper legs. Two straps crossed the creature’s chest, one connecting to its weapon. The skin on its head was caramel-colored with short black hair on top. Its eyes were bright green.
The kneeling creature had darker skin and wore gray trousers and a dark brown tunic.
“This is Morton County, brother,” Crandall said, “so it is my business.”
Crandall’s radio crackled. “We got you covered at three and nine,” his colleague said. “Locked and loaded.”
“Put the weapon down,” Crandall said to the standing creature. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
“Help,” the kneeling creature said. “I seek refuge. I seek asylum.”
“That’s cool,” Crandall said. “But it’s not my call. So let’s put down the weapon and figure things out.”
The standing creature raised its weapon slightly, and all three deputies racked their shotguns and brought them up to firing position.
“Let’s not do that,” Crandall said.
“Your weapon is puny,” the standing creature said. “It will not stop me.”
“Maybe not,” Crandall replied, “but if you move another inch, you’re going to get three volleys of steel shot moving at close to five hundred miles per hour. I guarantee it will probably ruin your whole morning.”
“Your choice, my brother,” the deputy continued.
The creature lowered its weapon. Crandall moved in and took it away.
“For the record, hu-man,” the creature said, “I am not your brother.”
“Okay, sister. Whatever.”
The other deputies joined the group.
“Did he call himself Ulnarian?” one deputy asked. “Do they still exist?”
“I suppose,” the other deputy said. “At least these guys are standing here.”
“You two need to pay more attention,” Crandall said. “Don’t you remember? Those other aliens dropped by the International Space Station and left a satellite so we could hear about what’s going on in other systems.”
“That’s what I mean, Dave,” the first deputy said. “According to NASA, Ulnaria blew itself up.”
“Krapolia!” the standing alien exclaimed. “Ulnaria still lives!”
“That’s great,” Crandall said, “but right now we’re going to take it down a notch and head back to town. Let’s go.”
“Walton, stay here and secure the scene. Fire department is on the way. State guys should be coming too.”
Deputy Walton said something Crandall didn’t hear as two F-15E Strike Eagles roared overhead at less than three hundred feet.
“What did you say?” Crandall asked.
“I wanted to know if we needed to call the Feds,” Walton replied, “but I think they know.”
The third deputy loaded the weapon-wielding Ulnarian into his unit. Crandall took the other one with him and both deputies headed across the field to the main road and back to Elkhart. They passed the inbound firetrucks on the access road. Two black SUVs followed and a TV mobile unit trailed the caravan.
Trying to make the time pass and to ease the situation, the deputy hauling the bigger alien made small talk while they cruised down CR 311. “Got to say, we haven’t had this much excitement around here in a while.”
“I do not care, HU-man.”
“My name is Ty Dunbar.”
The alien grunted. “I also do not care.”
“You know,” Dunbar continued, “I’m really impressed at how well you speak our lingo. Lots of folks actually from this planet don’t.”
“I do not speak your language,” the Ulnarian said. It pointed to black spots on its cheeks. “These are translators.”
“Hey, cool,” Dunbar said. “My boy’s phone has an app like that. Works really well.”
In the other vehicle, the smaller alien didn’t shut up all the way back to the station, chattering on about all the injustice and how Earth was its last hope for safety and freedom. Crandall wished he’d switched the assignments.
Elkhart, Kansas
Judge Hawthorne had quietly watched developments over the next two days. First, the Ulnarians were put in separate cells and made comfortable. The smaller one kept saying he wanted refuge and asylum, while the taller one demanded to talk with his or her commander. Hawthorne appointed counsel for each and set the hearing.
Even while whining about other things, the two visitors showed no signs of harm or injury. They ate heartily and the smaller one took a quick liking to fried chicken and potato salad. No one would accuse Morton County of mistreatment.
Taking command of the wreckage, the Air Force cordoned off McKenna’s farm and instituted a press blackout. It didn’t stop several cable outlets from sending teams to Elkhart, but it did keep some control over images of the spaceships getting out.
So the press descended on Judge Hawthorne’s court. He could at least keep them out of the courtroom proper, and out of the building, but not from clogging up the sidewalks and street outside.
Hawthorne also took time to catch up on things reported from other parts of the universe. Ever since the Anklorran explorer ship visited the ISS a few years back, the national news had been full of information released by NASA on happenings on other planets and in other star systems. NASA was even planning a new cable channel devoted to things in space and outside the solar system.
Oh yes, Hawthorne thought when the bailiff intoned the traditional opening to the court’s session, this is going to be REALLY interesting.
“Be seated,” the judge said after ascending the bench. “Thanks, everyone, for being here. What are we calling this case?”
The prosecutor rose. “About all we’ve got are some markings from one of the two ships. They look like ‘ZPX47’ or something.”
“Well, that will work for now,” Hawthorne said. “We’ll call it the matter of Space Ship ZPX Forty-Seven.”
A woman in sharp US Air Force blues stood behind the rail. “Your Honor, I am Major Laura Hemmings, USAF. I request the immediate transfer of these detainees to my custody.”
“On what grounds, Major?” Judge Hawthorne asked.
“These creatures invaded our air space,” Major Hemmings replied. “The matter falls under military jurisdiction.”
“Do you have written orders or something?” Hawthorne asked. Hemmings shook her head.
“Then I’m not seeing it,” Hawthorne said. “You don’t have any paperwork, and even if you did, there are other questions to answer before we deal with who gets custody. So sit down and wait your turn.”
“Now,” he continued, “what’s next?”
The rear door of the courtroom exploded inward, scattering spectators and raising a large dust cloud. An even taller Ulnarian strode through the opening and marched up to the rail. This one wore a black over-suit with a billowing cape. Its eyes glowed red. “By order of the Ulnarian Defense Council, release these people immediately!” It bellowed, raising its weapon. “You do not have authority!”
Judge Hawthorne stood. “PUT THAT THING DOWN!” he hollered. “You’re gonna hurt someone!”
“You puny creatures do not frighten me,” the Ulnarian replied. “I can return you to sub-atomic existence in an instant!”
“Not in my courtroom, son,” Hawthorne said. He reached under the bench and took out a pump-action shotgun. He racked a shell into the chamber and pointed it at the alien intruder.
“Look here, stupid,” the judge continued. “This is my courtroom and you will lower your weapon and calm yourself. Whatever you’re packing is probably powerful. But it’s not powerful enough to take all of us unless you plan on wiping out this whole room, yourself and your friends included. So put it away and chill out. Otherwise, I will blast you back through that door you already destroyed.”
The Ulnarian lowered its weapon.
“Bailiff, disarm our latest visitor,” Hawthorne ordered. The bailiff did as instructed, taking the Ulnarian’s weapon and leaning it against the back wall.
“Alright,” Hawthorne said, “you can take a seat, and wait your turn. Before you do, though, what’s your name for the record?”
“You can call me Is-h’meh El,” the Ulnarian said.
No one spoke for five seconds.
“Yeah, right,” Hawthorne replied, breaking the silence. “And I suppose your friend there is Captain Ahab? And who’s the other one, Pequod? I like literary references as much as anyone, boy, but let’s try this again.”
The Ulnarian stood tall. “It is my name! I am Superior Officer Class 7 Is-h’meh El of the Ulnarian Defense and Legal Establishment.”
“Okay, who is your colleague?”
“She is Inferior Officer Class 4 Gra’an-pha Lun.”
“And the other?”
“Not important.”
The third Ulnarian stood up.
“I am... Herb,” it said.
Is-h’meh El moved to the front row, motioning Major Hemmings to move aside.
“Okay, folks,” Hawthorne said. “Let’s finally get started. Mr. Prosecutor, what charges are you pursuing?”
“Well, Your Honor,” the prosecutor replied, “we’ve got arson in the second degree, destruction of property, disturbing the peace, and in the case of the one defendant, attempted battery.”
“Is that it?” the judge asked.
“We’ve also got the question of asylum for the one Ulnarian.”
“Which is beyond the scope of your jurisdiction,” Major Hemmings said from her seat. “With all due respect, sir.”
“You’re out of order, Major,” Hawthorne said, banging his gavel. “You’re close to contempt, too, so don’t do it again.”
“But, Your Honor—”
“But nothing. I’ll rule on that question in a moment. Right now, though, we need pleas from the defendants.”
The defense lawyers and the Ulnarians stood.
“Your Honor,” Gra’an-Fa Lun’s attorney said, “my colleague and I have both advised our clients to plead guilty to all the charges except arson.”
“Do they understand what this means?” Hawthorne asked.
“They do, sir,” the lawyer said. “And further, we ask the arson charges be dismissed.”
“On what grounds?” the prosecutor demanded.
“On grounds that the fire was completely incidental and inadvertent, the result of normal circumstance given its cause, the landing of two spacecraft.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“I’m inclined to agree with defense counsel,” Hawthorne said. “Arson’s a bit of a stretch. Besides, they’re going to plead guilty to destruction of property. Don’t you think that’s sufficient?”
“I suppose so, sir, but I’d prefer asking Fred McKenna. It’s his land and wheat.”
“Alright, then,” Hawthorne continued. “Arson charges are dropped and pleas of guilty are entered for all other charges. I’m going to have to think a little on sentencing, so we’ll put that off for now.”
He banged his gavel. “Next up is the question of asylum for Herb. Major Hemmings, this is now your turn, so why don’t you join the prosecutor?”
Hemmings stood to move up. Is-h’meh El stood also, and preceded the major through the rail.
“Hold on there, Ish-my-man,” the judge said. “Where do you think you are going?”
“You are considering the question of that creature and his request for asylum,” Is-h’meh El replied, “It is my issue as well.”
The prosecutor shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got no problem.” The two took seats at the prosecution table.
“Now then,” Hawthorne said, “let’s have Mr. Herb take the stand.”
“With his lawyer’s guidance, the small Ulnarian walked to the witness chair. The bailiff approached and held out a bible.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“Huh?” Herb replied.
“Are you going to tell us the truth?” Herb’s lawyer asked.
“Yeh.”
Herb sat down.
Copyright © 2022 by Mark Reasoner
