CHAPTER
ONE
S
T
IN
G
The lights dimmed.
The Floor Manager managed some last floor that he'd obviously missed an entire minute earlier, and the live TV Studio audience - because any other type would really drag the whole thing right down - quietened, knowing full well that any minute now nobody would be holding back an enthusiastic cheer when the "On Air" sign lit up red, the familiar intro music started, and the last episode in this series of their beloved Motoring Programme went out to the World.
There was hushed silence waiting for the music, and the studio was still.
And the audience waited.
And the studio was still still.
And then it was still-still still. The crew was still, the Presenters were still, the pigeon nobody had seen fly in earlier through the loading bay doors and perch on the big lighting rig was still.
And the studio audience was ... puzzled. Some had been holding their breath but had to let it out with a gasp which led others to shush them, while the rest just kept getting ever deeper purple faces because they didn't want the embarassment of being shushed and had hoped to disguise it in the cheer that would be happening any second now.
Except that it didn't happen.
And then That Voice happened instead, echoing and deliberate, commanding and somehow other-worldly which was hardly surprising really because it came from another world.
"Attention people of planet Earth .. attention people of planet Earth ..."
It belonged to somebody that was standing right next to everybody, though as they all looked around they found nobody there speaking to them.
And then the helmeted figure on the studio floor became un-still and turned to address them openly.
"You know me as The Sting. But Sting is not my name it is my species, just as you are Human not .. Malcolm!"
The Alien continued, "We the Sting occupy all corners of the universe. I am the Grand Territorial Invigilator of Xpansion Locations Resourcing, and our colonisation programme is almost complete."
"Your little Planet is all that remains, and I have been living among you preparing for your absorption in to the Sting Universal Collective!" The last three words were spoken so forcefully that each one came as a shove in the chest. Some of the audience coughed.
"With the colonisation of Earth the Sting will at last completely SUC" he continued, " and that time is now upon us and we have already .. Begun-n-n-n-n!"
"To assess your suitability I have observed your advancement from the ape-stage, the development of intelligence, and the emergence of civilisation and standards across social, cultural and technological boundaries. And what better way to measure how high are those standards, how sophisticated your race, how advanced your civilisation, than by your supreme cultural barometer, your Tele-visi-one!"
Some of the Purples had really needed to give in by now, had caved, and had also wondered about the pigeon when the resulting collective exhaleblast didn't startle it in to flying away.
"Thus have I deliberated, finding you to be ideal candidates with the perfect combination of gullibility and a willing acceptance of even the most ludicrous figures of authority" and he gestured to where the programme's three presenters Jerome E. Larksong, Richard Hampton and James Gray stood frozen in position looking at a car wheel with a flat tyre lying on the floor at their feet. Larksong was holding a message card and a housebrick, Gray an aerosol can and a footpump, Hampton a paintbrush with green bristles.
"Some say they are complete chancers" the Alien continued, "others say they can't possibly be for real, must be planted in your minds by superior beings testing your .. gullibility." That was when everyne learned what an evil Alien chuckle smells like.
"But all I know is .. You're Ready!" and at a press on his wrist-controller the on-air sign glowed like it was blood-filled, and steady-cam guy moved in to position as Larksong read from the card.
"It says "Your task is to repair the puncture and get the wheel back on the car inside 5 minutes". Easy, leave it to me I'll just keep hitting it with this!" and held up the brick.
"Being a complete oaf as usual I see!" responded James, "But really it is very simple .. just find the nail, take it out, inject this sealant and pump it back up. A proper repair!"
"Er," joined in Hampton, "why bother? There's still three perfectly good ones on it. Maybe if we just paint it nobody will notice! Green's a nice colour ..."
Another wrist-controller press, and everyone was standing motionless again and the red light had apparently clotted.
Not bothering to try and hide his gloating chuckle the Alien leader picked up where he left off ...
"... so you never really stood a chance!"
"Your colonisation has been under way some tme already. You haven't known it however because we have been broadcasting mind-control signals hidden within this global tele-visi-one programme."
"And tonight's episode contains the final element securing your total control! After that you will be unable to resist us and Earth will be mine .. er, will be ours!"
Half way through these words the studio door had opened to admit the Alien leader's lieutenant, J3551CA.
This wasn't J3551CA's first assignment however, oh no. She had been on many Tours before this one.
She had known that her future lay in that direction right from when as a Trooper-brat she had been hauled around from one outposting to another.
And she was good at what she did, very good.
She was a pretty good Trooper too, though sometimes a bit too good and had had to be huriedly moved along before someone decided that the end didn't always justify the means, and that some of her means came out of a completely different playbook from everybody else's!
Yep there was no doubt about it she'd be a General one day, a cutesy-blonde, smartass, 11-star General with a kinda-sexy uniform, a kinda lethal way with inadequate subordinates, and kinda-unmissable looooong pure white hair that they could see coming a galaxy away and if they had any sense at all make arrangements to be somewhwere else entirely by the time she arrived where they weren't.
He'd turned his head briefly in her direction as she entered, then back to continue as she went about checking settings and stuff between a couple of pieces of studio equipment.
"So this ..."
... and he gestured the studio back in to motion, the presenters talking across each other as they sat in seats that squeaked even though the carbon-based lifeform from the genus Bovine from which the seats' coverings were made, did not squeak but instead mooed, which the covering did not, which the carbon-based ... etc.
"So, chaps listen, " said Gray, "have you ever wanted a Mexican sports car?"
"Yes I have!" Larksong said, not meaning a word of it.
"Well it's good news because there is one and here it is, it's called the Tortilla" offered Gray, triumphantly.
"It is not! It is not called the Tortilla. What is it called?"
"I can't remember, it's something a bit ..." Gray started to reply, but got interrupted again by Larksong.
"So you just made up the name."
"Yes" he said, "I've forgotten ..." and was yet again interrupted, this time by Hampton.
"Why would you want a Mexican car? 'Cos ... cars reflect national characteristics don't they? So, German cars are very well built and ruthlessly efficient, and Italian cars are a bit flamboyant and quick."
"Mexican cars" he continued, "are just gonna be a lazy, feckless, flatulent oaf with a moustache, leaning against a fence asleep, looking at a cactus, with a blanket with a hole in the middle as a coat!"
At which point the Alien leader whassisname suspended things again and continued to the audience ...
".. this ... this never happened, was planted in your minds ... was completely imaginary. You surely didn't think it could possibly be for real?!"
"This, on the other hand ..." he said, turning his head to J3551CA now at his side with his cloak and lightsabre, "this is completely real!" and he paused loudly, breathed noticeably deeply a couple of times, paused more and then let out a long exhale and finally snapped back to looking forward again.
J3551CA however turned toward the audience altogether more casually and with a giggle of total control and ownership. She was more than familiar with that reaction, though had been seeing it more and more often lately.
And with that she put his cloak on him, and he swirled it majestically to strike a regal pose for a serious announcement. He thought so anyway.
"So! If you are seeing this you have been selected to be an Envoy of The Sting. It is a great honour. You were instructed to be present for this your induction, so welcome and congratulations .. for now!"
"And you don't remember any of that happening of course, which therefore also proves all I have said."
And he went on "After your induction those of you still actually alive will go forth and multiply .. " which brought forth a very unladylike but entirely J3551CA-like little snort-giggle, and from him a look that was not at all the withering glance that he believed it to be as he continued.
".. go forth and multiply this knowledge, spread it to all people in all Nations and prepare your World for the inevitable, prepare for the rule .."
And he paused, took the lightsabre from her and posed with it in both hands ready in front of him, "... the rule of Sting!"
To underline his pronouncement he fired-up the lightsabre and posed melodramatically with it as it buzzed and flashed and pulsed and hummed, a tune that those hearing approaching in combat never get to hear the second verse of.
He hollow-breathed for effect because that seemed expected of him for some reason. Then again for a different reason as the perfume of J3551CA's hair penetrated in to his helmet, followed by a silent pause and then a slow exhale as the lightsabre dimmed, flickered and went out.
J3551CA looked at it, then at him.
"Every time. Every sodding time!" she thought, then noticed that he had turned his head to look at her in response. She remembered that she needed to guard her thoughts if she didn't want him to hear them.
"Oooops! Forgot, sorry." she thought to him, taking the dead lightsabre by just the tips of her finger and thumb and holding it dangling at arm's length."
Thinking to reproach her he began "Then in future be careful to guard ..."
"No not that ..." she interrupted annoyingly again, " I mean I'm sorry it didn't last so long ... just fizzled out ... again ... you should get it checked over ... I can get you scheduled if you wish ... with the armourer? ... Sir?" she half-smiled.
He dismissed the question with a harrumphy bluster and a wave-off, and continued to address the audience.
"Resistance would be futile, we are evolved far beyond your imaginings. What you are hearing for example is not my voice but my projected thoughts, and is just your mind's poor attempt at imagining what my voice might actually sound like. Though at the same time we can easily guard our innermost private and personal thoughts ..."
"Oooooohh isn't he wonderful .. so forceful and sexxxxy and .. oh, ooops again!" thought J3551CA unguardedly, intentionally, teasingly, somewhat insubordinately but for some reason perfectly safelyly.
Slightly annoyed nevertheless he carried on ".. guard our innermost private and personal thoughts .. from those we do not wish to share them!"
He hollowbreathed again to regain composure, and continued.
"We completely control your environment. Take now for example. You believe that you are in a state-of-the-art Tele-visi-one studio with a select few others receiving priority consideration in the atmospheric glow of the old electric light."
Building his superiority further he announced "But in fact all is just an illusion, is planted in your minds. In reality you were summoned to a large, draughty, echoing hangar-studio, and are standing there packed shoulder to shoulder with the other 10,999 of your intake."
"And if I briefly suspend part of the illusion ..." he briefly suspended part of the illusion, "you are momentarily feeling the chill air. And if you still doubt that, why then did you just shiver?" "And then!"
"And it will be just the same all around your planet watching this final broadcast in imagined living rooms!"
"So! ..." he ultimo-decreed, "no comfy sofa, cosy fire, cup of cat. Nothing. All .. An .. Illusion!"
"Well, not exactly all ..." unguardedly-thought J3551CA adding an unnecessary growl and an unspoken promise.