I am a Fugitive from Another Galaxy–1

INTRODUCTION I am a fugitive from another galaxy. I ran to save my life and to prevent the conquerors of my planet from exploiting my abilities. I have fled to the other side of the universe—I only hope it is far enough as I hide among a race of warlike giants. This is my story. There are other characters, most notably Donald Dugan and Gina Provano, but I will introduce them to you when appropriate. I was a scientist—an applied physicist– in my prior life, a leader of our planet where my job was to develop weapons for our defense and safety. I often wondered why I bothered. I tried and tried to convince the Planetary Council that we needed to prepare for invasion, that we needed many more of the high-energy electron ray cannons I had developed for our defense. They were the ultimate weapon, one which could be used with horrible consequences if not handled and managed responsibly. “From whom?” they asked, “We are at peace with the entire galaxy. Why should we worry? Why should we spend all that money?” “The Gorkons,” I replied. “They have an arid planet and an exploding population. They are always in search of water while we have plenty. Our planet is almost covered with water. It is our life.” “The Gorkons are more than a hundred light years away. We have nothing to fear from them. That is our final decision. Goodbye, Scientist.” I knew then that I would have to make my preparations to evacuate. It was just a matter of time, in my opinion. That time came sooner than even I had thought. The Gorkons are a very warlike people. They live to conquer; their warrior robots are merciless. They take a planet’s riches and enslave the inhabitants. The trillions of tons of water on our planet were too much a temptation. They came less than two years after my warning. We had the technology to defeat them, but we needed many more high-energy ray cannons than we had. There were huge gaps in our defenses thanks to the shortsighted Council. That’s what I had tried to tell them. The Gorkons would easily identify those areas and overwhelm our forces. Many of their armies would die, but those who reached our surface could wreak havoc on our population. We would be forced to surrender and that would mean execution of our government and military leaders, and the enslavement of our leading scientists, including me. That was their history and that’s why I was prepared. Our people were once land dwellers, but we evolved to be amphibious after a series of powerful earthquakes and volcanic eruptions submerged most of our land areas more than one hundred thousand years ago. Personally, I preferred living in the water to being on land although my work took me onto the land daily to develop new and more powerful weapons. Our technology was far superior to theirs, but our short-sighted governing council had made us vulnerable. With our weapons the Gorkons would be unbeatable. I disassembled the control units of the high-energy ray cannons and set them to short out within six months to keep them out of the Gorkons’ control. There was no way I would allow the Gorkons to gain control of me. Without me they would be useless pieces of ceramic and melted wires. My ship had the latest and most advanced technology I could build, equipped with hyper-drive that could propel me at speeds well in excess of the speed of light. However, there was a price to pay. I’d have to be in suspended animation—unconscious in a tank of water and barely alive—to survive the ordeal of this travel. I blasted off into space heading away from the massive Gorkon fleet. I programmed the computer and placed myself into the chamber. It would feed and water me as well as filter my wastes throughout the years I’d be in it. I knew that I could be followed in spite of the high speed. All rockets leave a trail of ions that can be followed anywhere so I took several precautions, entering the atmosphere of several planets and bouncing out on the other side, or even back in the direction I had come before changing direction. My ultimate goal was a small planet on the far side of what they called the Milky Way—the third planet of a yellow sun. The inhabitants called it Earth. Once there I would need to find a host, someone in which I could hide, living in the warm liquid environment of their blood. It would be the perfect hiding place. Even the Gorkons wouldn’t find me. The best part—these inhabitants were even more warlike than the Gorkons. They’d be able to defeat them for sure. Furthermore, this planet was less than one-twentieth the size of mine and one-thirtieth the size of Gorkonia. The huge size of our planets meant our gravity was extremely strong. As a result we were small–tiny compared to the size of those on my new planet. I had planned this escape for the entire time, ever since the Council had rejected my plans. I’d sent drones in all directions except toward the Gorkons, obviously. I had found four possibilities, but this one was the farthest and the most warlike…and the safest. I set the controls and entered the chamber. For the first time in my life I was running away. I was glad I had no family; I’d hate to have them fall into the hands of those butchers. I’d seen what they had done on other planets. Once in the chamber I pushed the final control—the master—and laid to rest. According to my calculations the trip would take fourteen and a half years; I would age fourteen and a half days. I floated down to the bottom of the tank and closed my eyes. I could feel the acceleration and then nothing. I was gone. CHAPTER 1 I abandoned my ship, allowing it to fly into the yellow star. That would lead any followers away. My escape pod was tiny–roughly the same shape and size of what the earthlings called a cigar butt–and designed to elude detection by even the most sensitive radar as it floated slowly down. I entered the atmosphere in search of a suitable host. I knew what I wanted—a young male, not more than twelve of their years in age. Such a specimen would likely protect me for years and years. I am not a parasite that would ultimately destroy the host. Mine would be a true symbiotic relationship in which we would both prosper. I landed in what we called a park back home where I could see a group of males playing some kind of game in which they tried to throw a spheroid through a metal circle up on a long pole. I heard one of them call it a “basket.” One player was clearly terrible. Even I could see that. He dropped the spheroid repeatedly and was unable to throw it through the “basket” unless he was very close. Even then it appeared to be a challenge for him. I thought he might be suitable, a challenge worthy of an intellectual like me. I had my chance when the spheroid rolled into the plants where I was hiding. Compared to these beings I was tiny. I needed a protective casing to shield me from the dry air; it was designed to simulate a biting animal that could provide my entry to his body. I climbed onto his footwear and up to his skin where I bit him. “Oh, damn, a tick.” I heard him exclaim as he picked it off and stomped it into the pavement. Too late–by then I was in his blood. I enjoyed being in my warm watery environment once again as I passed through the tubes in his body to his brain. I hooked on and prepared for my future life. From here I could read his mind and determine his future, hopefully for the better. The game broke up and he propelled a strange device with two wheels down the street. I used this time to siphon off all of his knowledge. I learned I had chosen a real loser. That would change now that I was in control. Reading his thoughts I learned he was surly and disrespectful to his parents, that his progress in school was dreadful and that he had experimented with harmful substances. All of those problems would be my first priority. Then I’d handle the sports and girls he wanted so badly. By the time he walked into his abode I knew that he treated his mother with ultimate disrespect. He greeted her kindly when he saw her in the kitchen, “Hello, Mother I’ll be glad to take care of the lawn as soon as I’ve finished my homework.” He walked up to her and kissed her cheek as she looked at him in dismay. “Thank you, Donald. That’s very kind of you,” she replied, thinking she’d believe it when she saw it. Donald went immediately to his room and found his books. I could understand why he did poorly—his class notes were almost nonexistent. Fortunately, I was a genius with an IQ, as they defined it on this planet, well in excess of 800. I made Donald sit at his desk while he opened his Science textbook. I was amazed at how rudimentary it was. This level of science was taught in our primary schools. I whipped through the work in only a few of their minutes. Next was Mathematics, also too simple to even describe. English was more of a challenge. It was a foreign language to me, but with my auto-translation module I managed to find a way through it. Donald changed his clothes into jeans and a T-shirt, walked down the stairs and out to the garage. It was separated from the house at the back of the property. Donald filled what I assumed was a “mower” with propellant and pulled the cord—how primitive! He pushed the machine back and forth in the yard, cutting the grass evenly. When he was done he used a trimmer around the tight areas and then a blower to clean the paved surfaces. It wasn’t much, but Donald was off to a good start. I learned a lot about Donald and his life over the next few weeks. I also learned a lot about society here on Earth. Donald loved sports, but was small for his age, fairly frail, and lacked hand-eye coordination. I’d take care of all three problems, but gradually so as not to draw undue attention. I forced him to grow a quarter inch a month and an additional inch over his winter school vacation. I had him ask his mother for a weight set for Christmas. The look she gave him was priceless. Once he began lifting I could justify muscular growth to match his increased height. He also squeezed a tennis ball for hours daily to strengthen his hands. Donald was a model citizen by the time Christmas arrived. He was polite and helpful and his grades had improved dramatically, well on his way to straight A’s. He had begun seventh grade at 5 feet, 4 inches and 110 pounds. By the end of school he’d be 5 feet, 8 inches and 140. By the time school began next year he’d be 5 feet, 10 inches and 165 pounds. Growth would continue until he was 6 feet, 4 inches and 200 pounds in tenth grade. Eighth grade was a huge success for Donald. He maintained an academic average of 98.4 percent and received an award for most improved student. His physical strength improved tremendously; he was more than competitive at all sports. He was increasingly polite and well-mannered. I felt I had been successful in three of my four goals, but the last—girls and sex—would be a problem. I had no experience in the social mores of this planet. They were nothing like what we did back in Aquaria. In the end the problem solved itself once Donald went to ninth grade in the high school where he would meet students from two other middle schools. He surprised his parents by asking if he could try out for the football team when he began ninth grade. By now he was almost six feet two inches and weighed 185 pounds. His regular weightlifting ritual had developed his muscles and made him strong. I also had him run to improve his stamina. Donald rarely watched TV and never played computer games; he was much too busy between school, homework, and chores in addition to working out. He wanted to be an end where he could score on offense and still block an opponent. On defense he’d love to tackle runners and attack the quarterback. School began on a Wednesday, giving the students a few days to acclimate themselves before the actual rigors of learning began. Fate intervened when he walked into the school on the following Monday. Two bullies were harassing a smaller boy at the lockers, dumping his books and pushing him into the wall. “Knock it off,” Donald shouted, “What’s wrong with you idiots? What a couple of real heroes–picking on someone half your size.” “Listen, buddy, mind your own business unless you’d like some of this.” “I’m not fighting you…not in school, anyway. I’m out for football and I’m not getting into trouble over a bunch of jerk bullies like you. After school…that’s another matter.” They invited him to the park after school and left, eagerly looking forward to what they thought would be easy pickings. Donald helped the boy pick up his books and made sure he was okay before walking down the hallway to his class. Later in the day Donald stepped off the lunch line looking for an empty table. He found one near the far corner. He was just about to eat when three girls he had never met asked if they could join him. He looked up to see three extremely attractive and sexy young women, two with brown hair and one with the most lustrous straight black hair he had ever seen. All three were tall and slender with budding breasts and tight slacks that emphasized their flat abdomens and firm round asses. “We saw you this morning with that asshole Jordan. He pulled that same stuff at Warner—that’s the middle school we attended.” It was the black haired girl, the cutest and sexiest in Donald’s opinion, who spoke. “Oh, I went to Rock Hill.” “I’m Gina,” the tall slender raven-haired beauty said, “and this is Jessica and Arianna.