One Eye Open

Copyright © 2017 by Charles Martin.

Library of Congress Control Number:     2017914744

ISBN:                    Hardcover              978-1-5434-5333-1

                              Softcover               978-1-5434-5334-8

                              eBook                    978-1-5434-5335-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/29/2017

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Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Foreword

Just about anything can happen when you use your imagination. I wrote this first book not of my own free will. It just happened up there, and before I knew it, I had to get it out of my brain because it was all I could think of. It left no room for any other thoughts, and this was back in 2000–2001. I managed to put it on different mediums and drag it around with me until this year (2017), when other people, I believe, would like to read it also. Back when I finally got it all out, I thought I still had to carry a pencil and paper for the intermittent thoughts and ideas that would percolate up that I had to add to the story. I knew there should be a sequel to it, but I had no clue as to what or how or when until about six months ago, when two words showed up in my imagination. Almost instantly, about thirty pages followed, and I drove home and started putting in my laptop everything that came out of my brain associated with this sequel. I’m still in the throes of writing it, but I’m coming to the end and about to wrap it up, except now I have so many loose ends that I foresee more sequels. So if you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing them, it’s a win-win situation.

I must thank our Creator for endowing me with the gift of a vivid imagination. He gave us all gifts; we just have to recognize them and thank Him for His benevolence.

This first book is a tongue-in-cheek look at what really happens when you are abducted by aliens, not the aliens that are the usual garden variety that stopped at our planet for a smorgasbord humans-as-the-main-course eat-’em-ups, but as aliens with faults such as we have, only a little more technologically advanced. A simple abduction turns into the worst nightmare for these beings who think they’re at the top of the brain chain and treat all other life-forms as inferior. Lots of stuff happen, and I try to make it believable with our limited abilities. There are abductions and kidnappings and outer-space chases with all kinds of flora and fauna. The navy gets involved, and PETI, with the CIA, throws their weight around.

If you enjoyed this one, the sequel will be along the same plane without missing a beat. I try and write with the idea that it could happen, and yeah, you probably could fly a bus into space with all the right homemade components, such as light compressors and air magnetizers. The sequel is even more advanced with kinetic energy as a power source. Who knew you could do all that with pieces and parts from scrap and recycling yards? There’s no limit to our imaginations, and I’ll be more than happy to share the knowledge with you. I’ll have you haunting these places, looking to build your own flying contraption out of all the throw-away parts that litter our Earth.

Enjoy the read, let your imagination soar by flying with these guys, and relish in the space adventure.

Charles Martin

Chapter One

Five years ago, aliens from the Byvalve Constellation on a planet called Bagloania were sent on a mission. This one was organized because of various and diversified public and private reasons.

A planet that harbored life was discovered. This greatly intrigued the scientists to find out how advanced this world might be. The radio waves they received showed a great promise that there might be some lower life-forms they could bring back to put in their public display areas. This was a justified reason.

Always fortunate for the politicians to show how the aliens’ hard-earned tax money is spent. Not such a justified reason, as the driving force behind the idea of forming an exploratory mission is none other than Atrom Molinhiemom, who likes to feed at the public trough, and his wife Dentalena. These two-wheeler dealers have their elongated fingers on the pulse of whatever serves them best.

He jumps at opportunities to enhance his knowledge of where the easy public money is hidden and finds ways to draw it out and use it. Being a political insider and a gambler with a lavish lifestyle, he needs lots of it. She has a real cushy job at the university that complements her husband after he twisted a few arms in administration by promising them an increase in public donations. A nice pay with benefits was just not good enough for her. Eavesdropping for any tidbits of information that she might be able to twist into an advantage for a promotion or money is always foremost in her mind. So when she overheard two scientists discussing this amazing discovery, she immediately told her husband. He, of course, jumped right on it. He was thinking he could now rightfully explain to the voting public this was the reason he used public funding: to rehab the oldest star cruiser in the fleet … for this grand mission. Of course, nobody realized the time between the rehab of the cruiser and the discovery of this planet is three years.

Where these beings live is about three hundred thousand light-years from our world. Their planet is about twice as big as ours, with the same percentage of water and dry land. They also have the same atmosphere and mineral makeup on their planet as we do, except they are extremely more advanced in technology. They developed spacecraft that can fly 150,000 light-years from their world and back again in our time frame of two months. Using magnetism as the primary force and compressed sunlight as the booster, they travel to distant points like we drive to the supermarket.

A team was assembled, money was allotted, and off they went to what we call Earth, not to simplify that a lot went into picking and choosing who would go. They went through three deep-space pilots who all refused because of the logistics involved.

There weren’t any problems with the spaceship, just the aliens who were promoting the mission. It seemed you can’t mix politics and science.

Auxiliary Captain Orgo was chosen, or rather begged, to oversee the mission and was well-versed in the operation of this craft.

He wasn’t always in their air fleet. He originally started his career in water fleet operations, what we call our navy. He went to military officer’s school and came out with honors. He went up through the ranks rather quickly.

He was the youngest officer to command Humongous One, the largest warship they had in the fleet. Under his command, he sailed her around the waters of his planet, making ports-o-call to his many waiting alien ladies, of course, with that kind of good looks, blue eyes, short blond hair, a fine proboscis nose a full eight inches long, six foot two inches tall an extraordinary brilliant being.

Unfortunately, it seemed trouble followed him everywhere. He loved to gamble and drink and carouse around in all the seedy parts of the towns. Naturally, this generated a plethora of reprimands and rebukes from his superior officers who were in unison about sending Commander Orgo to the air fleet to prevent any more embarrassment to their branch of service.

So now Auxiliary Captain Orgo, being knocked down a few pay grades, was assigned to the air fleet. Their ships on the water and in the air have almost the same control systems, so it was a short learning curve for him.

He was still a magnet for bad luck, though, and continued with his wild and rambunctious ways. That was until he was caught with Admiral Leonan’s young wife who blamed him for all her wicked ways.

Orgo was placed in shackles and hustled off to the nearest brig to await sentencing.

Sitting on the hard bench in his cell, he was sweating out the facts that they will bust him down to less than a private, take away all his rights and privileges that he so enjoyed, and spend the rest of his life in jail, maybe getting out in twenty years with good behavior. The future was looking very dim indeed.

Did you sign up for the next deep-space project? one guard at the jail said to the other.

No. No, I didn’t. You heard who was running that show, didn’t you? the second guard asked.

Yes, it’s that sleazy politician and his wife. He’s trying to get reelected, and she’s pushing to get a really advantageous position at the university. I know. My wife works there, in accounting, and she hears a lot, said the first guard. Three deep-space pilots refused to do the mission because of them, and they’re still looking to find a pilot.

Hey! Orgo’s mind was frantic.