Ch 1. Red Moon.

CHAPTER 1



Martha had been foolish and had made many mistakes, but now they could cost her life.

         She gave birth in a hotel room in Salt Lake City, but the young man in her life left town at the first sound of the baby crying.  Martha knew she would have trouble bringing up the child on her own and she decided to go to see her parents at a mission they had set-up in California, hoping to receive their help and forgiveness.  She genuinely loved her child, but he was too vulnerable to take on the journey and her friends agreed to look after him until she could return for him. 

         She set off into the desert with a horse and wagon, but on the first day, she hit a rock causing a barrel of water to fall off the wagon and smash apart on the ground.  The horse soon consumed the water from the remaining barrel and the doomed creature eventually collapsed from thirst and exhaustion.  She continued the journey on foot, but didn't last long in the sweltering heat and was soon lying on the stony ground with buzzards gathering above her.  One of the birds dropped down and landed nearby.  The bird kept easing towards her, looking at her like a diner scanning a menu.  Every time she moved, the scavenger hobbled and hopped away.

         Martha was weak and could hardly move, but she was certain someone would come to her aid.  She was concerned for her child, worrying about his fate as she drifted towards unconsciousness.  Darkness began to close around her and a high-pitched whining filled her head as the hungry buzzard moved closer, and then she was gone.

* * * * *

Bithot, like all of his species, was hairless, slender, and had long gangly limbs.  The material of his clothing, though cloth-like, was made from a tough plastic.  He walked barefoot; his toes were extra long, like fingers and were capable of the same functions, making control of their craft difficult for beings not of his planet.  He was one of the planet's most successful selectors.  He had always chosen well and was the only selector not to have any of his selections returned under option twelve.  The life forms he selected were always in great danger, and he would save them from death at the last moment.

         Bithot was sitting in his quarters looking at his observer-scope screen and watching the joint funeral of an elderly couple on one of the many islands on the nearby satellite planet.  The islands were similar in size to the Isle of Man back in Great Britain.  Some were inhabited by humans and some by species from other planets who were also considered to be at risk.  The main planet, where Bithot and his kind lived, gave out a red glow in the night and the humans on the satellite incorrectly referred to it as The Red Moon.

         It was a sad time for Bithot.  The elderly woman was Bithot's favourite, his pet, and the very first human that he had selected and rescued.  When the service was over Bithot wiped the moisture from his face with a reusable wipe.  He suddenly began to shout obscenities towards the screen and then in frustration threw the tear-drenched wipe across the room.  It was nearly time for the meeting with his superior, Jarlut, and he composed himself before setting off to make his thoughts known to him.

         Bithot stood waiting at the entrance to Jarlut's office looking at his reflection from the black glass door and knowing that Jarlut was sitting at his desk on the other side watching through the one-way glass and deliberately making him wait.  The door slid open and Bithot stormed across to confront his superior.

         "She was only a hundred and three; you could have saved her."  The sounds came from projections at the side of Bithot's jaw.  His tiny mouth was almost redundant, only capable of taking in liquid for social purposes or for emergency intakes when away from the planet.

         "You know the rules," Jarlut said.  "Her husband died so it was her time."

         "It was her time eighty five years ago when I took her."

         "She was fit then."

         "She was alone in an Earth desert, almost dead, and about to be consumed by a flock of scavenging vultures."

         "Minor details.  Anyway, humans cannot cope very much past one hundred.  They are not like us and they become weak and feeble.  Her husband died so she died with him, that is their will, and that is the procedure."

         "Procedure!  Procedure written thousands of years ago."

         "Do not be disrespectful.  This is our task.  This is our purpose in the universe given to us by the great creator."  Jarlut stared at Bithot.  "We did not make the rules."  His stare lightened and his cat-like eyes smiled.  One of his eyes remaining focused on Bithot while the other looked down and scanned his desk-screen for information.  "You still have to go to Earth for those replacements.  Perhaps you will find another favourite with whom you can take a sparkle to.  We know you have been taking an interest in one from the bloodline of Martha: her great, great, grandson Marvin.  He is a soldier, is he not?  And he may soon be a candidate for you as your new favourite."

         "There will be no more favourites."

         Jarlut laughed.  "You are still young.  One hundred and fifty years and only halfway through your life.  Your sorrow at the loss of your pet will soon pass and you will find another."

         "Never, not even if I live to be four hundred.  I want a change.  I want to work with another species."

         "Do not be so hasty, Bithot.  You have reached a prestigious position.  Do not lose your status because of misplaced emotion."

         "I am not being hasty and I have no emotions that are misplaced.  I want a change.  If you do not allow it then I will apply though The Screeners."

         Jarlut nodded and shook his head a few times while giving out faint sighs.  "Temporary then, to allow you to see some logic.  We certainly do not want any involvement from The Screeners.  Buffer wants a change so you can exchange with him and take control of the Anolaid people for a while, if you wish."

         "Fine, I will go and inform Buffer right now."

         "Not so fast.  Buffer is away and you need to make the journey to Earth.  That cannot wait for Buffer to return."

         "We will leave today then.  The sooner we get this done the better."

         "If you wish.  I have no objections to that as long as the service engineers agree to such short notice."

         Bithot bowed, turned and hurried back out.

         Jarlut called out after him.  "Bithot, believe me you will find another."

         Despite his desire for a change, Bithot was fond of the humans.  At home, he would often select the Anglo-American island on his observer-scope and zoom in onto some of his favourite human households, although now his pet Martha and her husband had gone, his interest had waned.  He also knew of the possibility that one day they might have to lose all the humans.  It was 1940 on Earth and the planet seemed to be in peril blundering from one conflict to another.  There was also the added worry that the human race would soon have the ability to destroy all life on the planet.  Cleansing of the planet after such a disaster would be a gigantic task, but it would not be beyond their capabilities and would soon be completed.  They would then lose the humans from the islands for the repopulating.  Perhaps though the humans would realise the folly of their ways and maybe they would see sense before it was too late.

         Bithot would need plenty of food for the task ahead and he stopped at a public impulse booth on his way to meet Ekurb.  He sealed himself in the booth and waited while the charged impulses filled his body with enough food molecules to sustain him on his journey to Earth and back.  At the same time, sparks were flying out from his body as all the waste products were being ejected and vaporised.  When he arrived at Ekurb's quarters, he found his friend in a poor condition and he knew the reason why.  "So, you have been visiting one of the pleasure centres without me again, have you?"

         "Afraid so," Ekurb said.  "And I went off to the birth-breeder complex with Arnia."

         "You are a fool, Ekurb."

         "True, but I am a happy fool."

         "You already have two offspring in the learning and growth farm.  Is that not enough?  You will never get promoted if you are continually in debt."

         "I could not care less about debt.  Anyway, we are not due out for a while.  It would do you no harm to make more of a commitment to Axonia while we have the free time.  She continually waits and pines for you."

         Bithot paused in his thoughts for a moment, but he had no wish to discuss his feelings for Axonia.  "We are setting off for Earth today."

         "Today!"  Ekurb raised his voice because he had not been informed about any urgency of their latest quest.  Why the rush?  What has happened?  Are The Screeners sending us under option twelve?"

         "It is nothing to do with The Screeners or option twelve.  It is the booked rescue, male and female, so you had better get into your booth, get that pleasure centre rubbish removed from your system and get prepared for the task."

         "But I thought the trip was not for some days yet."

         "You thought wrong.  This is our last Earth trip and we are swapping with Buffer."

         "No!  Not the Anolaids, they stink, they stink like rotting flesh."

         "You used to say that the humans stink."

         "Yes, but I got used to them."

         "Well you will get used to the Anolaid people."

         "I do not think I will."  Ekurb picked up a chair with his foot and tossed it across the room.  "Why, why have they done this to us, we have made no mistakes?"

         Bithot looked at his friend's waste of energy and decided to tell him later that he had volunteered them both for the change.

         Ekurb set off to his personal impulse booth while Bithot went to the space centre to check over the large bullet shaped craft that was to be their home until they returned with their rescued humans.  Births made up for most of the human deaths, but if some of the islanders chose not to have children, or even to have just one child, then they would have to perform a rescue to make up the numbers.

         It was a long journey and Bithot and Ekurb spent most of it in a deep sleep, but they were fully awake by the time they were a hundred thousand miles from Earth.  Their craft soon came to rest high above Southeast England.  It was September and there was an enemy air raid over London.  Many people were dying, but Bithot couldn't be hasty.  Most people were not suitable for the purpose and he had to be very careful about the specimens he selected.  Not only must he avoid bad or untruthful people, but also unstable or weak-willed people who may not be able to cope with the revelations that would be thrust upon them.  Then there were their brain pulses.  Male and female must have compatible brain pulses to ensure contentment and happiness between them.  Bithot was drawn to a confrontation that seemed about to commence over the fields of Kent and he sat watching and waiting for an opportunity.

* * * * *

The RAF Spitfires had been up for some time and on their way back to the air base they had brief contact with a group of returning 109s.  The German fighters didn't seem to have the fuel to prolong the fight and after the loss of one of their aircraft, they decided to cut and run for home.  The Spitfire pilots were frustrated because they also could not continue the fight and pursue the enemy.  They were running short of fuel and ammunition themselves and had to return to base, land, refuel, and rearm as soon as possible before taking off to intercept the next wave of incoming bombers already approaching the east coast.  Roger thought that he would be unlikely to see his girl this evening.  He wouldn't be able to apologise to her for ignoring her concerns, and for failing to acknowledge her fears.

         He was a young, but experienced pilot and he sat at the controls of his Spitfire thinking how different it was to the old biplanes he had flown before the war.  He loved flying and was pleased his exciting pastime had become his career.  He knew he had an important job to do and he attacked his adversaries vigorously whether they were hunters like him or the less formidable heavy bombers. 

         It was by sheer chance that his section leader managed to spot a stray group of enemy bombers in the gloom below them, heading for the glare of destruction from London.  "I can't see any escorts," he called over the radio.  "Anyone with enough fuel and ammo can join me, but stay alert.  Help yourself chaps."  There was no shortage of targets for the Spitfires as they broke formation and fell upon the seemingly unprotected German bombers.

         Roger picked his target and bringing the cumbersome aircraft into his sights, he moved his thumb onto the button and commenced firing at the selected Heinkel.  Without warning, there was a series of loud thuds and he felt a searing pain in his back as his aeroplane began veering to the right.  The cold air was screeching into the cockpit through a large hole in the canopy.  The radio crackled.  "Roger, Roger, bale out, for Christ's sake turn over and drop out of there."  The huge Rolls Royce engine spluttered and popped as the aeroplane began to fall from the sky.

         Roger felt weak, he could hardly move his arms, his legs were paralysed and he could feel the warmth of his blood filling his uniform.

         "Red leader, red leader, I'm not going to make it.  I can't move my bloody legs.  Can you tell Alice that...  Hello, red leader, can you hear me?"  But his radio remained silent.

         He could see the Kent fields getting closer as the aeroplane spiralled down.  They had seemed so small and far away before, like the little knitted squares on the bed quilts that his mother made.  He could see a tractor and some trailers parked across the middle of a field as if they had been abandoned.  There was a girl walking along a lane beside the field.  He noticed her stop as if she were looking up at him.  He thought of his girlfriend Alice, wishing he had given her more attention before he left her that afternoon. 

         He lost sight of the girl as the aeroplane revolved.  The thick black smoke began to enter the cockpit and swirled around from the draught caused by the hole in the canopy.  It was choking him and he began to cough violently.  The flames were running up his legs, burning and scorching both material and flesh.  Paralysed and having no feeling below his waist delayed the searing pain, but in seconds the flames became fierce and engulfed the cockpit as the Spitfire hurtled towards the ground.  He felt as if he were being fried alive.  He tried to scream out in agony, but no sounds left his mouth, and then he was gone.

* * * * *

Earlier that day, Eve, a bus conductress, was returning from the last journey of her shift and her bus pulled up at the alighting point just before the bus garage doors.

         "That's it, folks, I can go home now."  Eve gave her usual friendly smile to an old lady who was making her way to the back of the bus.  She was a regular traveller and Eve took hold of her arm and carefully helped her off the bus platform.

         "I'll see you tomorrow, Evey," the old lady said.

         "You certainly will, Mabel."

         "You're a good girl.  I wish they were all like you."

         Eve gave a laugh.  "Flattery will get you everywhere.  Come on get yourself off home now and get those apple pies made."

         "I wasn't joking, you know.  You'll see, I'll treat you to one of my pies like I promised.  It'll be here waiting for you in the morning."

         As Eve turned back to the platform, she was confronted by a young boy standing grinning at her.  She lifted the boy from the platform and put him onto the pavement.  "He's got a cheeky smile your son."

         His mother stepped off carrying the boy's younger brother.  "Thanks, Eve, I'm really sorry.  I thought I had enough with me.  I'll bring over the three-ha'pence in the morning."

         "Don't worry about it."  Eve stepped back onto the bus.  "See me another time."

         "No, I'll fetch it across.  Need to clear my debts before the Germans get here."

         "Tsk, my word, don't say such things.  Our navy won't let the sods across the channel."

         "Mark my words."

         "Shh now, or you'll scare the boys."  Eve pulled a bar of chocolate from her jacket pocket and gave it to the eldest boy.  "It's not just for you, you have to share it."

         "Oh, Eve, are you sure?" the woman said.

         "It's all right, some soldier gave it to me, but I don't eat chocolate anyway."

         "You're a right smasher, Eve, you really are."

         "Look at those two smiling faces.  That's worth a lot more than a bar of chocolate."  She rang the bell.  "Come on, Charlie, let's get finished."  No sooner had she cleared the words from her mouth than the air raid sirens began whining for the second time that day.  All her passengers began hurrying to the public air-raid shelter.  Eve looked toward the sky.  "London again," she muttered to herself.  "They probably won't bomb us out here again."  She looked over at the old shoe factory that had received a string of enemy bombs just as she was setting off home two days before.  "Nah, probably not."

         After cashing in the day's takings, Eve set off on her bicycle to the small Kent village where she lived.  She spent the early evening with Johnny, her boyfriend, in The Fox Inn before heading out of the village and down the lane for some supper at the farmhouse where Johnny lived with his parents.  They climbed over a gate and set off on the short cut across the corner of a field to the farmyard.  The noise of the aircraft way above them was evident though neither of them mentioned it until they could hear the rumble of distant explosions away in the capital.

         "They keep hitting London," Eve said, looking over at the glare that was beginning to form in the distance.  "When will it ever end?" 

         "When the German troops are marching up The Mall." 

         "Oh no, not you an' all.  I’ve heard enough of that rubbish today."

         Johnny looked up to the dark silhouettes of the raiders.  "Where's the bloody RAF when you need them?"

         "Oy, don't talk down our RAF boys.  They're doing a bleedin' good job, and Churchill says…"

         "Churchill says a lot.  So if they are shooting down so many of the buggers, how come they are not running out of planes then?  Look, I can see the planes, so why can't they?"

         "It's not that easy when it gets too dark.  They're doing good, they're heroes they are."

         "Oh, well excuse me for not being a fighter pilot.  Heroes huh!  Bloody university Brylcreem boys."

         "They're not all from university, at all, but they're all brave young men.  If you met one then…"

         "Oh yeah, well I suppose you're the expert after flirting with that RAF sergeant at the dance last week, but all the girls were after him and you didn't stand a chance so you had to come home with me.  Weren't you the disappointed one!"

         "Rubbish."  Eve thought of the dance she had with the airman, with him asking her to spend the evening with him, but she had declined his offer because she thought of herself as Johnny's girl.  She cleared the event from her mind and glanced across to a tractor and some trailers sitting conspicuously in the field.

         "That's your Dad's tractor, ain't it?  What's it doing stuck over there?  Broke down, has it?"

         "No!"  He gave a short laugh.  "That's his war effort.  It's supposed to hamper the Jerry planes if they try to land in his field."  He shook his head and laughed again.

         Eve smiled and then reached over and kissed him briefly before turning to walk off.

         "Wait a minute," he said and pulled on her hand.  "I want to spend a little more time with you on our own.  The time seems to have flown this week.  Come on let's sit down for a while."

         "What here on the bleedin' ground?"  She gave a chuckle.

         "Yeah, the grass is dry, it's all right."

         "I don't know about that."

         "Please love, now that they've cancelled my leave, I'll be off tomorrow night, and who knows if I'll be home again.  The next soldiers you see might be Germans."

         "Will you stop being so defeatist?"

         "It's serious.  You should prepare yourself."

         "Don't talk so bleedin' daft.  Churchill says…"  She noticed the strain on his face, as if he were genuinely worried.  She sometimes had the same fear and dread that the invasion might actually happen, but she usually managed to dismiss the thoughts from her mind.  "All right," she said, "we can sit for a while, but keep control of those blinking wandering hands.  I really don't know what's got into you lately.  I don't know who the hell you think you are, or who you think I am for that matter?  Anyway," she said, pointing to the sky.  "The Germans might be watching us."

         Johnny laughed at her comment as he laid his coat on the grass.

         They squeezed together on his makeshift blanket and Eve looked up at the barely visible shapes of the heavy bombers passing high above them.  Johnny reached over and began kissing her with a passion that startled her.  She was genuinely fond of him and although she found the experience pleasant, his passion began to intensify and it seemed to her that he was beginning to lose control of himself and as she had expected, he was trying to put his hands where she wouldn't allow.  She pushed him away.  "I'm warning you, if you don't keep your hands to yourself, you'll feel my handbag over your head."

         "Come on, Eve, all my mates are doing it and they all reckon we are as well."

         "Oh do they really?  Well you had better put them right on that little point.  Anyway, the last thing I need is a real born baby."

         "That won't happen.  I'll pull out on time."

         "What do you think you are a bleedin' train?"

         "Oh come on, Eve, please," he pleaded.  He began kissing her again, but grabbed at one of her breasts. 

         Eve pushed him away.  "You'd better bloody well turn that in," she yelled, and slapped him hard across his face. 

         "Well sod you," he said.  "If you're not interested then I'll find a girl that is."

         Eve laughed.  "Yeah, I suppose there's a big queue of them over at your house just waiting to do you a favour."

         "It's not bloody funny."  He stood up and began walking off towards the farmyard.

         "Hang on, ain't you gonna see me home?"

         "See your bloody self home."

         Eve stood up and shouted after him.  "Go on then, go and sulk.  I don't care."  She walked back across the field and climbed back over the gate, only it was not so easy this time without Johnny to assist her.  She leaned on the gate looking back across at Johnny as he climbed over the fence into the farmyard.  She thought she would go to his house after she finished work the following afternoon and talk to him before he caught the night train.  She felt disappointed because he didn't turn to look for her and she continued looking in case he should reappear and give a wave, but she soon gave up and set off back towards the village.

         The droning of the enemy engines was still going on high above her and she looked up to the darkening sky and could still pick out the shapes of some German bombers.  The rumble of the explosions was almost continuous in the distance and she thought what a pasting London must be taking.  She was about to look away when she saw a flame in the sky.  A small aircraft was spiralling down, a smoke trail following behind.

         "Looks like one of ours, poor blighter."  She stood watching and trying to spot the parachute as the aircraft disappeared behind some trees.  There was a blaze of light as it hit the ground and exploded.  She kept looking for the parachute for a while, but all she could see was the glare from behind the trees and the black smoke rising into the night sky and she thought the pilot must have perished.  She thought about him.  Maybe he was married and maybe he had a child, or was he single with a girl waiting for him back at the airfield.

         The Heinkel that Roger had damaged had turned for home and hastily dumped his bomb-load over the fields.  The bombs were descending towards the lane where Eve was walking and the air was filled with the shrill screaming sound.  She knew the sound, the sound of bombs falling like when they destroyed the shoe factory, and she froze in terror thinking of the enemy aircraft directly above her.  The sound was growing louder and reaching an unbearable level.  She dropped her handbag as she covered her ears with her hands.  Her eyes were straining in a wide stare of panic.  She had a feeling of doom and started to run along the lane, but she stumbled and fell onto the road.  She remained where she fell and curled herself into a ball, sobbing and trembling.  The screaming sound stopped, replaced by a high-pitched whining that seemed to vibrate through her body.  "Oh no, please God, no," she screamed, and then she was gone. 



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