Ultra: Moray Firth: Double Cross

© 2016 Amy Johnson. All rights reserved.

Acknowledgement of painting Magneta by Captain MG MacFarland

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/05/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4333-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4318-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-9132-2 (e)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Part One: Ultra and Magellan

Part Two: Conrad and Ultra

Epilogue

About the Book

About the Author

Grace, Benjamin, Leon, Emma, Jacqueline, Earl, Guri, Sean, John, Alan, Peter, Robert, Loren, Victor, David, Liz, Richard, Graham, Harpal, Dave, Nigel, Wendy, Bob, Bill, Roshi, Major, Sukh, Atminder, Harry, Richard, James, David, Keira, Omar, Joseph, Yash, Momtaz, Sepi, Kubra, Morag, Dawne, Neil, Tony, Gabor, Hazel, Rock, Gurdeep, Raj, Andy, Sam, Owen, Ken, Rattan, Ranjit, Christopher, Lynne, Fraser, Caroline, Heather, Ruby, Ruth, Roly, Mathew, Adam, Kevin, Denis, Karen, Chris, Andrew, Douglas, Dawn, Michael, Wayne, Amanda, Sukhmani, Gurbani, Karan, Tully, Amrita, Simran, Satbir, Denys, Birrel, Payne, Lessells, Harman, Matt, Dawne, Kubra, Aman, Shavi, Bobby, Bessie, Bharat Pal, Gill, Loughran, Brain, Petros, Nancy, Wallace, Brandon, Adrian, Frost, Taylor, Pickford, McIntyre, Jimmy-r, Tory, and Rory.

Acknowledgement of painting Magneta by Captain M G MacFarland

This book is

dedicated to Ultra.

Prologue

Ultra watched Earth below. One guardsman would not strike another guardsman, for it would be deemed an offence. The relation of master and man was a strange one. In Arabia or the Middle East, servants were afraid of the master’s whip and equally of the sword of justice. There should be no abasement. Yielding to another should never be mandatory. All spirits were made equal by the Creator, and the contract between man and man was simply voluntary. Some ruled with savagery, and others were no longer resigned to their fate. This was true globally, not simply in the Middle East. Exploitation took on many sinister forms. Everyone was pressed against a wall and waiting for better times. The enemy circled vainly above crimson rocks, while bursts of dense smoke flew like amber-green puffs, writhing in the mindless air. Below, Arab women gathered, nestling their babies against their tender breasts. There was a menace in the air that screamed, howling in a sharp, growling cry, and subsided. The terrors were everywhere: Rome, Paris, Sweden, Scotland, and the vast lands of the desert - Arabia. Magellan and Conrad, the two men in her life, were truly two sides of the same coin, and seeking the same utter doctrine: peace, justice, and balance.

PART ONE

Ultra and Magellan

The Hangar

Even before the ending of great days, some of her kind had guessed the truth. It was not mere tentative speculation about life on other planets; Earth had a configuration much like their own. Mastering the bigger ships needed at first psychological training. What would Earth’s reaction be when they first witnessed these enormous fleets? Perhaps, when the curve of surprise wore from its peak, they would act in a normal way.

On the sixth day of her training, Magellan, her supreme flight commander, discussed with her how they would make themselves known to Earth in a broadcast that blanketed every radio frequency. They had tested how they would choose a language converter and announce their arrival. The content of the speech was well rehearsed, recorded, documented, and stored. Whether they would make themselves known had never been decided, but in theory it was never ruled out. Still, it would be staggering, whatever the mode of delivery.

When Ultra studied the full manuscript, by any standard it was a work of superlative genius, shining complete. It revealed absolute mastery of the affairs of beings that lived on Earth. The data had been collected for a century. The scholarship and virtuosity gave a tantalizing glimpse of knowledge which was designed to convince Earth beings that when they heard it, they would know they were in the presence of overwhelming intellectual power.

When she heard it spoken in the language of Earth, it expressed a precarious sovereignty. The plan was that local governments would retain their control, but decision about international relations and affairs would be taken out of human hands. Ultra thought this plan was designed to kill two birds with one stone: first to ask the nations to agree to such an incursion on their powers and freedoms, and second to prevent active resistance while handling the protests of mankind. That active resistance could produce difficulties was entered into the equation. How would they react when the images of alien craft appeared on their many networks? What emotions would they feel? What was the plan of the back-up ship? What if they were destroyed? Was there an option to use frightful force if they were attacked? They had weapons far superior than theirs. If they encountered their missiles, could they be destroyed by their technology? She had seen how, in a fraction of a second, the missiles could hit their earthly targets. Their weapons could be fended off. Survival was always important. Mutual agreements would follow. Cooperation was of the essence. In their lands too, governments had collapsed completely in mutual recriminations.

Ultra drove to the launching field. She exchanged a few words with her assistant, collected her briefcase, and set off to the craft. Magellan never kept her waiting for long. She walked slowly towards the seamless metallic hull and stepped into its single softly lit room. The entrance shut automatically. There was no sensation of movement or sound. There was a little conference room at the end of the corridor, and a seating spot.

Magellan had a strange power and wisdom, an immense, tolerant wisdom for mankind, and a humorous affection for Earth’s beings. He was tall and honest and evaded points of conversations in an annoying way. The details of the mission had been out for a month now. He had signed it. Somehow it lacked conviction at that stage. ‘That is your feeling too?’ he asked Ultra.

The question was rhetorical. Ultra simply laughed.

‘I am only a civil servant, trying to devise a journey as well as putting a policy together when we get there,’ said Ultra.

‘Sure,’ said Ultra. ‘Why the concealment?’

Magellan gave a rich, deep laugh just too resonant to be altogether like her father’s.

‘My dear Ultra,’ Magellan retorted, ‘it is only by not taking them seriously that I retain my sense of humour.’

Fountains

This was not the first mission to Earth. A space station had already been on Saturn for years, observing the planet from a safe distance. In the first year of their arriving on Saturn, Magellan told her their arrival would make little difference to the patterns of life on Earth. To the Earth beings, they was a shadow that was watching them, but an unobtrusive shadow. The great cities on Earth, glittering, were observed miles away. Some of their spaceships had been seen and explained away by the authorities. Most humans were not aware that their rising standards had a prime cause. The silent spacecraft had maintained peace after their major wars. If they had known, they would have been grateful. The watchers remained aloof and distant, keeping themselves hidden. Some commanders watched over the UN Headquarters and its secretary-general, Ban Ki-moon. There were no direct contacts.

Maiden Flight

Ultra was sleeping badly most nights, which was strange, since soon she would be putting aside the cares of daily training forever. She had worked hard and earned her wings. Few women could look back upon a life that had seen so many of its ambitions achieved. She thought of her dad. He had often said, ‘Achieve as much as you can when you are young and vital, for when the years of retirement beckon, however many they may be, there will be no great goals to add that sharp zest to life.’ Since he died and her siblings established their families, her ties with this world had weakened.

It was time to detach from present circumstances. She had been chosen for a very special mission. No distractions could be allowed. She just had to arrive safely at the space station and then prepare to announce themselves to the earthlings. She would be the pioneer who manned the first flight, and that was quite a staggering thought. No wonder the restless nights, continued, when her brain would go on turning like a film reel, without ceasing. But she was intent on resting her mind. Reluctantly, sleep came, and she fell into a deep oblivion.

The Perfect Storm

High above, she saw a meteor zooming like a shining spear. Through the dark night sky, the luminous tail flickered like a sparkler, then burst into a million starlets. The thought was brutal; in a few years, she would be leading humans towards an end that only she had been trained to teach. She had constant reports on the UN secretary-general. That in itself she had taken time to read and understand – but equally it meant there was scant time left to grasp the picture of what lay beneath those darkened clouds and multiple screens.

Only in the last few days she had dared to admit that the secretiveness of Earth’s institutions obsessed her. Until recently, her faith in Magellan had kept her free from all doubts. But now, as the time loomed near, she thought little wryly that the protests of the various groups, leagues, and nations on Earth had begun to have an effect on her. It was true that man’s enslavement was no propaganda – but it was a slavery of a novel kind. Mankind had gradually grown accustomed to their governments’ imperceptible rule. Now some nations in the Middle East were becoming impatient with their rulers. And could they be blamed?

In Egypt and Syria, freedom fighters were organising to oppose their rulers. Consequently, more civilised nations with the rule of law were cooperating with opposition groups to ring in changes. The objections and policies of these militant groups varied considerably. Some were radically religious, while others fought with a sense of injustice and a sense of inferiority.

They felt with good reason that the intentions of the American and British forces were far from noble. These forces had brought peace only after much chaos, and the cost had been very high. History was not reassuring either; even the most peaceful contract between races had often been met with suspicion, and proposed only after the obliteration of a backward society. Nations as well as individuals in the Middle East could use their support and culture when confronted by a challenge which they were not prepared to meet.

To date, the civilization of Western countries seemed veiled in mystery. It was the greatest challenge they had ever faced. There was a faint flick from her reading machine, which ejected hourly Earth status reports to Saturn, an observatory station of extreme sophistication.

Ultra wandered indoors and sifted half-heartedly through some notes. The report stated that on the other side of the Middle East, the freedom fighters had inspired a headline, ‘The Middle East is being ruled by US Monsters’. A meeting report made by Gopal Krishnamurthy, president of a UN subcommittee, had stated that ‘the explanation of the opposition’s features and behaviour is quite simple; they find the form of government alien and repulsive, and they no longer show themselves as bearing any humanity. The challenges to their authority continue unabated.’

Ultra threw down the notes in disgust. Even if all these charges were true, did it really matter?

The idea of revolt was an old one, and it worried her. She did not believe that any biological form, however strange, could with intelligence convert the grotesque to the beautiful. The mindset of society mattered. If only they could convince the earthlings of this, and make them change their policies! It was certain that they could not be half as hideous as reports stated. Something had gone wrong, both with society and the systems.

Yet it was not simple. Ultra knew considerations for the succession of despotic regimes had made Earth anxious to see the end of an appalling state of affairs. Many were honest to admit that, in the final analysis, mankind’s motive was to turn things right. Ultra had grown to know Earth on a political, professional, and personal level, and she would still never be satisfied until she had