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Harvest

Harvest 1

by Tray Caladan

On March 15th, 2014, we woke to find that on our televisions; already in our newspapers; on radio and over every media service worldwide…Earthlings were bombarded with the Big News!  At 3AM London time, first reports flooded the United Press of a battle between alien spaceships in the upper ionosphere!  What appeared visually and on radar screens was a ‘dogfight’ between ships shooting rays of some kind from Siberia to Moscow to Rome and now over London.

Portions of Russia, Eastern Europe and Western Europe have been devastated.  Large, curved swaths or lines of destruction were photographed and sent over news agencies; hundreds have been killed!  Recent events, which have rocked our small world, were not of a ‘false flag’ nature.  Alien ships were REAL and two were fighting in our skies!

In what has been described as ‘the End of Times’ and ‘Armageddon’ and ‘the ultimate battle between good Angels and bad Demons,’ only two crafts have materialized so far.  Each report from numerous countries shows upper atmosphere and low ‘space’ attacks from both vehicles.  Ground casualties have steadily grown in the hours since the battle.

We have received clear pictures which confirmed initial descriptions of two very different ships.  Each has remarkable maneuvering capabilities of making right turns at hundreds of miles a second.  Each can increase velocity instantly to attain ‘impossible speeds’ and disappear from every form of view…then suddenly reappear and glide to slower speeds on our material plane.

One was a shiny, silver saucer with a diameter of nearly a mile.  It was highly reflective and a radiant sight in morning sunlight.  When its weapon was discharged, a red (laser) ray emerged from one point on the silver saucer.  The beam was aimed at its flying adversary and would occasionally strike the ground.

The other craft was smaller, very black, only one quarter mile in diameter and appeared as a ‘porcupine fish.’  Brilliant, yellow, electrical discharges exited from numerous ‘spikes of death.’  The black, ominous craft that spat electricity at its silver foe did less damage to Earth’s surface…but, who knew what lurked within?

The next stage of events that soon occurred on the Ides of March was the announcement (and a very SURPRISE announcement) that Governments were contacted by the warring spacecrafts!  It was decided by the Powers That Be to immediately disclose this fact because another unprecedented happening truly happened:  Not only were leaders of lesser countries contacted, but every leader was contacted.  The Big Boys understood that nothing could be contained if every despicable warlord was in on the secret.  So, all news media were informed about the Palmars and the Ikxions.

Apparently, it was the Palmars in the beautiful and shiny saucer.  What was called the Ikxions controlled the black, spiny armada that resembled a floating porcupine.

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The fight continued over the Atlantic Ocean and was covered by many networks like they report a police chase through city streets.  Government helicopters and ‘Eyes in the Skies’ kept a close watch on the drama.

Great plumes of ocean water gushed miles into the air when red beams or yellow discharges were unleashed.

No one seemed to be winning.  Force-fields protected each ship from the powerful blasts of the other.  The stalemate, now in the lower atmosphere, appeared to be heading toward the United States.

U.S. news agencies expressed exactly what showed on everyone’s computers.  Aliens were trying to communicate with us; somehow involve us or warn us of today’s deadly events.  The only way for transmissions to be received by satellites, dishes and other means on Earth was when the crafts’ force-fields were dropped.  That was extremely rare.  Only a short, alien speech IN ENGLISH was received and instantly uploaded over the Internet for the entire public.  Black-out problems were furthered increased because of the magnetism around each ship.  It was assumed that the dark Ikxion craft was electrical and these aliens attempted to block the communications from the Palmars.

The following was precisely what was on global news media and every child’s computer in almost real-time…

     ‘We are Palmars; a race of Women…and have accepted the challenge to save your world or society at present.  Other life above you in Earth and around your Earth; that circles your Earth…has declared your planet…a battlefield.  The Harvest that was seeded here long ago will either be realized, which means Earth will be culled.  Or…we will defeat our sworn enemy; stop their Plan…and save the human race…’

The lovely, female voice was heard by billions of scared people.  No pictures could be received.  Human life and our very future seemed to depend on who won the air-war.  Would the attacks slowly break through the enemy’s force-fields?  Will there be a victor?  The world watched.

Minutes later, one more transmission was received by Earth’s facilities and everyone saw it on only a very short delay.  We finally had a PICTURE or just a few pictures of something happening onboard one of the ships.  Now, we can SEE…but, what was it we were seeing?

It was a two-second clip of what almost appeared out of a ‘Predator film.’  A hideous monster had a beautiful, blonde woman impaled on a harpoon-like javelin-weapon.  There was only a moment captured in the visual which showed a victorious Beast; seemingly laughing in a conquest and hovering over the suffering of a dying creature of true beauty.  Then, the film ended.  Of course, it was played ceaselessly over the media along with the words of the Palmars.

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Dennis Delayne was an unemployed 21-year old who stayed at home; smoked weed and played video games while his workaholic mother remained absent.  His father was dead.  This particular Saturday was unlike any other Saturday.  Yet, ‘Den’ knew his mom would choose work over her only son.  She was not on her way home during Armageddon or whatever the emergency was from above.  He could stay glued to the mammoth computer monitor that showed live news far superior to what television offered.  He could interact on multiple levels; get immediate feedback; info or have specific questions answered.  ‘Wow.’

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Den took another hit of legal weed and marveled at how ‘excellent’ this website was with access to various views from other countries.  He could download HD pictures that seemed like old, Japanese films in its subject matter but not in the high quality.  The latest info on the ‘sky-war’ was coming in along with what was reported as ‘secret transmissions from the Palmars’ NOT available to Governments!

‘How could that be?’ Den asked aloud to himself.  The young lad gathered that global sources withheld the fact that a new ‘voice and picture transmission’ will be sent and get through.  Because of its sensitive nature, Earthlings were not told that…‘only one, two or maybe no computers will receive the following information.’

The screen went blank.  A minute later, Den’s big screen remained a solid emptiness.  Den tried to figure what was happening from the pieces earlier on the screen.  He whispered to himself with his eyes more on the ceiling, ‘wait a minute.  It’s blank…it’s blank because everyone’s blank.  Except…’

Then, the screen reflected a very large scene.  Dennis believed it was a return to the cool website with exclusive access, but he was wrong.  His screen displayed what was interpreted as a direct, real-time view of the Palmars!  He was one of the lucky ones; he thought.  In truth, only the young Dennis Delayne was in communication with lady-aliens known as Palmars.  He made sure to record what was coming.  His screen alone showed a massive bridge or inner guts to the circular, silver ship.  Thousands of beautiful women with every hair color and hardly dressed could be seen.  Den heard a collective, desperate voice say: 

‘We are losing the war against the Ikxions.  We are running out of energy to attack and defend ourselves and your planet…from what will happen; from the culling your world faces if we fail.  We can only afford the precious cost of this single transmission…in the hopes of reaching one of you wonderful humans down there…’

     Den did not know if his efforts would do anything or have any effect.  He punched the right keys and was able to instantly ask:  I hear & C U  – what can I do?

A commotion was stirred among the crowd of goddesses.  The collective, female voice continued with ‘hope’ in its tone.  ‘You heard our plea!?’ 

     Den screamed at the screen and microphone, ‘YES!  Repeat!  What can I do?!’  He needed only speak and not punch-in the communication.

It appeared as if the excited Palmars were about to transmit the ‘keys to victory’ that was only in the small hands of Den Delayne.  ‘You must record the following data and send the file to [email protected] .’  A graphic of the routing email was viewed so spelling was not in question.

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‘Send the data before you lose the power to do so,’ he urged them.

The lady-voice replied, ‘we will!  THERE…it’s sent.  Did you receive the data, dear one?’

Delayne reacted to the email after growing percentages reached 100%.  ‘Got it, ah.’

‘You must forward file to the address…’ the collective voice said.

‘Yes, yes…glow dot org…DONE!’  Dennis’ heart raced with adrenaline.  He did it.  Did he save the world?  The boy did not quite understand and had a few more questions.

The young man saw the women react with joyous glee and moved in a type of Palmar celebration, he thought.  He had to ask, ‘may I ask a few more…’

The collective voice anticipated the boy’s response and interrupted him.  ‘Please, ask ANYTHING, dear one.  We only have a moment before our shields entirely fail.’

‘Why couldn’t you have sent the message?’

‘We had to be…invited; our policy…rules.  You had to perform the task.’

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‘And…what was the task?  What was the info and how did it help…us?’

     ‘Humans are the third factor on the Battlefield; used to break the impasse.  Unknown to the general public, for decades…you’ve had particle beam weapons and have been showing off poking holes in Jupiter’s moons…’ 

     ‘What?’

‘You could have picked us off like flies…if you wanted to.’

‘No.’ 

     ‘The data you sent the feds’ ‘Big Gun’ was the exact point through the Palmar’s force-field where our weapons were useless, but yours will be extremely effective.  Your governments couldn’t shoot down BOTH ships with everyone watching.  They had to choose the…ah…they had to choose who the Bad Guys were…’ 

     ‘Wait.  You said…Palmar’s force-field?  You mean, Ikxion’s force-field.  So, we could…get…through…’

The large crowd of fantastic looking ladies with hair of every color and hardly clothed…began to laugh.  Then, they began to CHANGE.  Dennis Delayne viewed the Palmar women of the ‘secret transmission’ for what they really were.  He heard the collective voice not speak in the lovely, high-pitched tone of wonderfulness.  It was deep, low, raspy, monstrous and said, ‘WE’RE the Ikxions!’  Each form continued its laugh, only in the rightful reality of hungry brutes ready to clean our bones.

The monsters were the ones in the shiny, silver saucer.  Palmars were the ones in the black, ominous-looking, spiny spacecraft.  Media and almost full-disclosure governments wrongly ‘judged a book by its cover.’  Nearly the whole population cheered for the sleek, shiny ship over the black Porcupine of Doom.  The Palmar ship was now in the crosshairs of Earth’s Big Gun.

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A red, particle beam blast from an unknown Earth station (Volcano Ulyet) smashed through the perfect point as to destroy the Palmar spaceship in an incredible light show.  Den was informed by the collective voice of monsters that (1) he was responsible for the destruction of human life on his planet, (2) his ‘forward’ placed an alien virus into the Big Gun system rendering it useless after its one last shot and (3) the culling Harvest will begin…immediately. 

Computer screens in every country displayed that the battle was over; the war had been won and to the victor, goes the spoils.  Thousands of silvery saucers were shown to be on a direct path toward Earth.

Suddenly, Dennis Delayne awoke.  ‘Thank God,’ it was only a dream.  Those were his first thoughts, anyway.  But, was it only a dream?  He had to check a few things.

The young man sprang from his bed and sprinted through the house.  Mom was not there, naturally.  He quickly made his way to the backroom and the amazing computer with a big screen.

After a few clicks, quicker than turning on television, he received his favorite World News Channel.  When the picture popped into view, a frightening sight stood in front of Delayne.  The picture was MUTED.  There was a newsman in the foreground and the first ‘picture transmission’ of the aliens looped again and again in the background.

‘Oh, no!’

It was the famous, two-second clip described as coming from a ‘Predator movie.’  The beautiful, blonde Palmar remained dead as she remained impaled by the vicious IkxionIt wasn’t a dream and we are still in the middle of a sky-battle for our lives!  Den UNMUTED the broadcast.  The news pundit stated:

‘An hour ago, we received the only visual transmission from the warships now over American airspace.  Experts view the gruesome sight onboard the Palmar ship as a leaked broadcast…from which, we can conclude the warlike Palmars want to destroy life on Earth for their own conquests as we’ve seen in numerous films…while the one group of Space Brothers, the Ikxions, are fabulous/female creatures battling to keep us free…’

‘Hey…that’s not it.  That wasn’t it at all!’ Den shouted at the large screen.  ‘It was Ikxions that were the killing monsters wanting to EAT us!  The Palmars were the beautiful women!’  Den hit ‘HISTORY’ and then clicked the special site where he gained access to the aliens.  ‘Wait a minute!  That was the dream!’

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Maybe this was the reality and he had it wrong in the dream?  Were the nasty aliens cannibals from space?

The screen on the international site was that same BLANK screen, which suggested to Den that the secret transmission may have already been received.  Could he ‘hook up’ like it was in the dream?  Will he be chosen?  Whatever was to occur, he would NEVER TRANSMIT THE DATA!!

Too much time passed.  It had not taken this long when the Ikxions in the guise of Palmars contacted him; used him to destroy Earth life.  Maybe someone else was chosen to deliver the deathblow?  What to do now?  ‘Wait…didn’t the first audible message say CULL and Harvest?’

At least Dennis Delayne could look up the exact sound transmission on the Internet that should have previously happened; if there was one in the real world?  In three seconds, Den found the YouTube and played it…

     ‘We are Ikxions; a race of Women…and have accepted the challenge to save your world or society at present.  Other life above you in Earth and around your Earth; that circles your Earth…has declared your planet…a battlefield.  The Palmaran Harvest seeded here long ago, will either be realized…or…we will defeat our sworn enemy; stop their plan of domination…and save the human race…’

The nerd loner was very comfortable in talking to himself.  ‘OK…in this reality, it was the Ikxion blonde impaled in famous clip by a Palmaran blade, right, right?  Alright…it comes down to…who’s the Big Gun gonna shoot?!’

Dennis turned on news networks and they all showed the very same scene.  Something was sure to happen in a ‘spaceship stand-off’ directly over the U.S. Pentagon.  Both crafts stopped their barrage of electrical and photonic discharges at each other.  A distant hum was heard in real-time, not coming from either ship.

D.D. knew what was going to occur.  He had seen it in a dream not long ago.  A particle beam will blast the Palmar saucer in this universe.  It was how the nasty aliens thought they could conquer our world; with a virus attached to forever silence the Big Gun.  With the Ikxion women-adversaries blown to bits, the War was won.  Vast numbers of Palmaran troops could freely come here and destroy…or, Harvest everything!

‘It…IS gonna happen.’  Den’s eyes held onto the big screen.  The silver Palmar ship hovered on the left side and the ladies’ craft that resembled a black Puffer Fish was on the right.  The boy turned to the shiny saucer while he prayed for a red blast.  Exactly on schedule, as if an answer to a prayer, an extremely potent/wide red ray forced through barriers and vaporized the silver saucer!  The mile-long disk was obliterated out of existence. 

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     ‘Yes!  Finally!  Somebody got it right.  DON’T judge a book by its appearance…or any life form.’

After the lightshow was over and the dust settled, cameras panned to movement on the spiny ship.  It was landing over the inner courtyard of the Pentagon.  Dennis believed the wonderful, women saviors were going to greet the throngs of people they fought so valiantly to protect; possibly impart knowledge, information or useful technology to world leaders.

Black doors opened on the black ship as it rested on a few of the thorny spikes.  More cameras closed in and focused on the opening as…

…Monsters emerged!  The same dark Predators with awesome blade-weapons of destructive energy…exited the craft and leveled the Pentagon in seconds!

‘My God, the Palmars were in the black ship…and the women were in the…’

It was this revelation that shook Dennis’ body awake.  One more time, the lad found himself within his soft bed without a care in the world.  It was like the Bill Murray film only things were different in every incarnation.  Den came to and exploded.  He nearly flew through the house he thought was empty.  This time around, his mother was in her home office and did not notice the boy’s scamper to the backroom.  His ‘eyes to the world’ were activated in no time.

When the large screen popped on, it was the same newsman in the foreground who had finished speaking.  To Delayne’s terror, the famous film of an impaled beauty continued to loop in the background.  He was still in the dream…or was he?  D.D. did not know if the reality he woke up to was the real world.  Was the girl in the transmission Palmar or the Ikxion?  Did it matter?  Were his dreams giving him insights to what was really happening?

Dennis was not confident in his universe, yet wanted to learn.  How was it going to be different on this new day; which was the same day, the Ides of March?  He searched for the YouTube of the prior audio transmission in this reality.  Again, it was located quickly.  The sweet, alien words were…

     ‘We are Ikxions; a race of Women…and have accepted the challenge to save your world or society at present.  Other life above you in Earth and around your Earth; that circles your Earth…has declared your planet…a battlefield.  The Palmaran Harvest seeded here long ago, will either be realized…or…we will defeat our sworn enemy; stop their plan of domination…and save the human race…’

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Dennis Delayne had one of those memories where if the experience happened to him, the memories were almost impossible to forget.  His recorder-of-a-brain told him:  The audio was the same as last time, yet different than the first (dream) audio.  There was no way to check in this reality.  At least, he was confident of his memory.

But, why was this happening to him?  Was he special and will the young Mr. Delayne play a part in the outcome of his universe?  The next sequence of events was turning on network news.  He did so and there were the two ships once more perched high over the Pentagon.

‘Wait…ah, wait…one of them will be blasted to smithereens like before; like what I saw.  Ha, ha…einee, meanie…ha.’  The same roaring hum in the background increased its volume.  The red, wide beam was coming.  And when it came, the deadly force disintegrated the black/spiny spacecraft!  Once again, the sight was a spectacular vision in the sky.

‘NOW, what’s gonna fuck up this time?’ Den asked the air around him.  ‘That…WAS the Palmarians or whatever they are called, right?  Did the fucking feds finally get it right?!’

     ‘No, I’m afraid not.’  A lovely female voice sang from horrible lips of one of the most gruesome and God-ugly, hideous Beasties that you ever want to see.  She was a she, but no one with eyes could tell.  The monster-creature stood on two dark, greenish legs right behind the boy.

His JUMP went half the distance to the ceiling.  Den slowly realized that he was standing in front of one of the race of Women from space; one of the kind Ikxions in this reality.  You know how when the Predator took his face-helmet off and it was disgusting?  The Ikxion woman-thing was far worse.

     God, she smelled bad, Dennis thought.  Then, he asked a normal question.  ‘What d’you mean, they still didn’t get it right?’

‘Your remote-viewers observed interiors of both ships.  Ship’s data could be false; inner agendas were unknown…therefore, a decision was made based entirely…on…’ 

     ‘Looks,’ Den attempted to complete the smelly her-Beast’s thought.

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     ‘…appearance…’

‘Yes, appearance.  What happened?’

     ‘You saw; our combating vehicle was destroyed and all the women onboard.  They were my crew…my friends…and your champions,’ the monster said with heavy sadness in her compassionate heart.  ‘There was only enough energy for one survivor, which is…myself.’ 

     ‘I’m probably dreaming again, but there’s one thing I sure don’t understand.  And, that is the two-second film which was received even in this reality…and YOU’RE the good guys?!  How can that be?  We saw one of your kind skewer a gorgeous female and kinda gloat over his trophy…explain, please.’

     ‘You saw one of our women interrogate a cannibal spy.’

‘Cannibal?’ Den asked in initial disbelief.  Wait, what did that mean? 

     ‘Look at your viewer,’ the monster calmly suggested.  She knew that the culling would soon begin.  The Palmars were very hungry and many more were coming.

     Mrs. Delayne’s 21-year old boy shrieked like a little girl.  His big screen revealed boxed sections of the latest disaster unfolding now.  Various rectangles of horrendous scenes were blacked out entirely.  The few remaining boxes displayed the Palmars exiting the shiny saucer…after their virus took effect on the ‘Big Gun.’

Beautiful, humanoid women with every hair color and hardly wearing clothes were able to unlock their lower jaws like some snakes.  They began to gorge themselves on the closest people to them; seemingly hypnotizing victims with unbelievable beauty.  Sharp teeth ripped into flesh and then every screen went dark.

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The very concept within recent dreams shivered Den Delayne awake.

MORAL:  Don’t judge a spaceship by its exterior…or life forms by their exteriors.

 

END

Copyright 2014 by Tray Caladan

[email protected]

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