Elephant Killer (Fever of Revenge in Chad))A short Story))

Elephant Killer
(Fever of Revenge in Chad)

By Dennis L. Siluk



Advance (Cairo to Chad): “It’s all about tusks,” he said to me, but what it was really about was risk taking, for a high, money, or dollars, and he was good at it, and he was not quite forty yet, in good health; myself, more like fifty-two, I was not young at all, of course, about to be married (again), and just got back from Java, and was sitting in a bar in Cairo, and he was sitting by me, and he smiled, and I smiled, and you know how that goes: where you from, where you going, stuff like that, and he pulls out a card, it reads “Gun for Hire,” I almost laughed, thinking it was a joke, you know like back when I was young and I watched TV show “Have Gun Will Travel.” (A show about a hired gun.) Well, just about when I was going to say: is this a joke, he said, “No joke, but I’m costly.” Well that is how it all began, AD 2000, in Cairo, Egypt, I’m Lee, and I suppose I can leave it at that, and I like traveling, kind of a Tourist Archeologist part time, and at times I suppose, I like adventurism to a small degree. I had just visited the pyramids, was about to go back home to St. Paul, Minnesota, in the good ole USA.
What I would find out is this (and then I shall get into the last days of my adventure, for there is where the premise of this story lays).
“Come with me,” he said, “to Chad (Central Africa)” towards the end of the night in the hotel, after meeting the Mayor of Cairo, and a lot of talk about Chad of course proceeded this invitation, he was headed to a campsite outside a national park that resides within its boundaries. He had shown me pictures of what he does, awful, horrifying pictures of cutout faces of elephants, he killed them he said, next, he cut them off their faces, before the rangers would appear (how ugly I thought, but then I had heard and seen a lot of ugliness in this world). “Usually…” he said, “some strays came out of the refuge, and when they didn’t,…” he’d go in after them; if indeed the rangers were not following the herd, which often times had certain routes, and he knew them all of course—by heart.
I am not sure why I would want to go and see this, I told myself at the time, until he said: “I’ll pay for the whole trip, you write down what you see, everything,” and I did, but I never published it until now, I suppose the reason being, it was too horrifying to me to publish. He simply wanted a witness, and he was willing to pay for it. A dangerous trip of course, but I had been in Vietnam, and Cambodia during the early ‘70s, and war and such things were not new to me, just dangerous, and as I was about to say, a wife to be, waiting in South America, to meet me in a few months in Guatemala. Nonetheless, I agreed, and although I leave out names and direct places, it is for the better I think. Now I shall explain in a more direct narration.




The Story
(Flesh Death)



[In Chad, outside base Camp. vicinity, by Sahara area:] I knew this area where I was, or so it seemed, elephants would be dangerously vulnerable for attack, I saw a few days ago a few Armed guards in the far distance, with Ralph’s binoculars, I asked Ralf Zimmerman, “The Matriarch…” [He referred to these elephants as the woman leaders, if not grandmothers’, whom the families, portions of the herd, or larger herds can turn to for leadership, a position of dominance in the herd, if not head of the family] I asked him, “The Matriarch searches for food, the wise elephants, or older females, whom are usually the leaders, do they have certain routes they know by heart?” (Thinking was the elephant really that smart.)

(This was the mongo rain season, a light shower here and there, especially night, but not the rainy season as it comes in June, I noticed scattered here and there on our journey dead elephants, some eaten by lions, Ralph told me, and Baboons perched in trees over our campsite at night, and giraffes in the distance, it was, if anything, a spectacular, adventure, except for the death, the flesh death, I came to calling it. I said nothing to him of my disgust, being a retired psychologist, I understood one thing, the only reason I was on this trip with him was because he trusted in me not to portraying him as evil (my past integrity would overcome this ugly sight of an existence) that is, the evil man incarnate, and he already knew he was. He wanted me to do what I was doing, witnessing, almost like a death wish, and without a bias. Perhaps he had a premonition, I didn’t know. But like in my practice, people tell you many things you want to scream at them for, but you can’t, you got to keep a flat face, no smile, empathy they call it: and hope you can bring them back to a whole person.
Base camp was several miles from the boarder of the refuge. This was my sixth day here, and basically the terrain I came over with the jeep, was riverbeds dotted with occasional pools, heat was all around us, and terminalia trees about. The closer we got to the boarder, the more trees I witnessed, and elephants were crowed under the shade by them. If they didn’t get the shade from the trees, they got wind from flipping their ears about (sometimes turning over), cooling their bodies. I came to love these animals, and here I was witnessing Flesh Death! I cried the sixth night, I couldn’t hold it back anymore, what was next, I asked myself, and it would be a surprise.
Ralph said on the seventh day, following a herd, turning towards me in his jeep, ‘…beyond the boundary line,’ as he called it, “…they will avoid trouble spots Lee, trails you could say, wise old females they are …they know where the danger lies and they know me, and they know were the food is and where it will be next month, and in-between seasons, and they know I know all this.”
“But if they are wise, how come they are not wise to you, I mean, how come they can’t out hide you, or kill you.” After he answered it, I thought, why did I asked such a dumb question, but my subconscious knew why.
“It’s a rhetorical question,” he said, “not really worthy of you Lee, but what you really wanted to ask, is how come I can out maneuver them, when you already know, because I already told you, but I will add this, they are running for their lives when they see me, I am running for my dinner when I see them, and a few other things. I can think straight, and have had lots of time to think about what I want to do; they are only protected by an imaginary fence, called a refuge, and are limited in reason. Does that answer your question?” (I thought then, but didn’t say: pride comes before destruction) then I nodded my head yes, because he gave me more information than I needed, but sometimes you got to play dumb to get the innermost secrets in the man’s soul, the core of his soul. I think he wanted, was waiting for the elephants to out smart him. It all turned into a game for him it seemed.

Fever of Revenge


(We were now outside of the Southern boarder of the National Park, it was the month of May, we had waited there all day for the herd to come, and it did, just like Ralph predicted it would, the head elephant a giant bull was spotted, with 3500-elephants behind him, I wanted to skedaddle, get out of there, I told myself, I was standing with him, he had a rifle in hand, and two guns in his belt, a knife around his ankle. “Now what?” I said, in an almost panic voice. “This may be the day,” he said to me, I didn’t know then what he meant, but of course I do now.
He shot the leading elephant, the huge one, dead, and it dropped and shook the ground around us (I think the elephant wanted to give the herd time to move away from his guns, thus, giving up his life), “Quick, get under the jeep,” he commanded with an almost evil eye, but now that I think back, it was more out of desperation for me, so I wouldn’t freeze (which I never do), but not knowing what to do, I might have jumped behind him, expecting the elephants coming to drop like fly’s or detour into another direction, but they simply slowed down to a walking pace, yet I did as he said.
He was now looking over him, the bull, and the large herd had stopped, completely stopped, while some of the females approached, looking, as the carcass of the bull lay by Ralph’s feet (I think Ralph was surprised the elephants did not turn, but almost surrounded him), I could smell the death of the beast, urine of the beast, he was now cutting out the tusks, cutting the face off the elephant. Several large elephants stepped ahead of the large herd, almost creeping, as Ralph was cutting fast, and faster, and the Elephants were approaching closer, slowly, but closer, with ever cut of the knife.
Everything now happened very quickly, the leading elephants bolted towards him, and the 3500-followed behind, dust filled the air, faster and faster they ran, little ones behind their parents’ tails, flapping in their faces, hitting their trunks, it was a stampede. Ralph stood firm behind the bull and started shooting pummeled the bodies of the nearing female elephants, bullets sinking into thick skin. Lodged into their muscles, bones and they fell; he looked at me, smiled, and then 14000-elephant feet stomped all over him, as he was wedged in (and now crushed between the hung elephant—smashed like mashed potatoes) in a favor of revenge.

3-14-2006

Project: Space Tomb (a four part story)) Reedited 3/2007)

Project: Space Tomb
[A four part story]



Project: Space Tomb I
[Launch pad: Cibara-#17]




The Milky Way Galaxy



[2125 AD] It looked like a traveling prison, a space tomb to the observers; a heavy bulky projectile for the most part, as if it was shot out of a cannon, a hundred-thousand years ago; rustic and ancient with a technology unknown to scientists on earth. It was in the shape of a pellet, or bullet, a projectile, charcoal black, with a porthole on each side of it to look out. It was under observation for one-hundred years. The first year there were lights on, inside it, so the documents read on earth’s daily log. In the projectile were two bodies. Evidently, they had died in there and that was that; and thus, earth left it flow within its nestled orbit around earth’s moon, as it had fallen into it, one-hundred years until this time; this was kind of a gift to the ancient astronauts within the tomb one might say. As I mentioned before, it had been orbiting for one hundred-years, and the telescope that was tracking it was on top of a mountain in Peru, some 20,700 feet high. And after such a time, interest, of over a billion earthlings had considered this bullet shaped tomb, like their stray cat, now found and being taken care of.
This projectile was being watched from earth by a gigantic telescope; the project was called, “Project Space Tomb.” And there were three scientist involved. One from America, Tom Macare, one from Peru, Toño Guedes (head of the Observatory, although Tom, whom got the financing from American businessmen, thought he was the boss most of the time, and hence, fought with the Peruvian), and Milam Thomas, from England, whom was partly Welsh, so he claimed, was the person who seemed to be putting out the spats between the three, especially Tom and Toño. It was an ongoing research project, data collecting of its motions and chemical makeup, as well as metal contents. One of the goals was to try and figure out where it came from without disturbing the sanctity of the tomb itself—lest you get a uproar from interest groups on earth. Every group on earth, tried to claim the Tomb as belonging to their ancestors: from the Maya of Mexico and Central America, to the pre-Inca cultures of Peru, and all the way to the North American Indians; and from across the Atlantic Ocean all the way to Egypt, the Egyptians claimed it; and even the Jews claiming it might be part of the Lost Tribes of Israel—to mention a few.
The best scenario they could come up with was that the projectile ship was from, perchance, Mars; but then it would be older than dust. A hundred years now seemed little to no time at all; even 100,000-years did not seem long in such a development. It didn’t seem to fancy them to look beyond their solar system for some odd reason, perhaps they could have pinpointed it, for there was some markings on it that read, Launch Pad: Cibara #17; although it was only lightly visible through the rusty debris attached to the Tomb, and in some other kind of language other than English or even Spanish. A form of hieroglyphics [symbols of an unknown origin]. That is why the Maya archeologists and anthropologists of Egypt figured it could be of their ancestry. Yet, only half of it was visible, and it was more of a hoax, than reality for the people of earth.
In any case, it did fall perfectly into the Moon’s orbit, like a navigated asteroid, making its home for a hundred years thereof. It was now the year, 2125 AD, the Tomb as the scientist referred to it, was having its birthday today, July 1; it was now one-hundred years old according to earth’s paperwork. The American scientist, Tom, along with the Englishman, Milan, and Toño, the Peruvian, were spellbound to see the Tomb resurrect itself.
The Tomb’s windows in the projectile were no longer frozen, heat had returned to the projectile. It was 99-years since man had seen light within The Tomb. How could this be, Tom deliberated, looking heavily into the face of the telescope; perhaps an alien ship, or NASA had decided to invade it without notifying them—were his first thoughts.
For the most part, He was obsessed with the event taking place, and his mind shifted from one thought to the next like a child with a new toy. The next thing that took place was the bottom of the projectile had opened up. This was even more amazing for they saw no other space crafts about, so, what took place in the tomb? Or better yet, what was taking place. Evidently the beings within the container were obviously in some kind of hibernation state. But how did the two beings survive a hundred years or longer, was the next question that was going on in all three minds of the scientists; if indeed they did survive, and what they were seeing was not a group-illusion. For after years of looking at the Tomb, they all feared they could end up having some form of mass illusions.

—The first year of the 100-year span of them monitoring the Tomb, light was in the Tomb, and each of the two bodies inside the tomb were accounted for; each of the two bodies lay comfortable in two beds within the circumference of the projectile. For 99-years, it was dark inside the tomb, deadly dark, so the whole earth thought.
All said, the American scientist Tom Macare, of the observatory, seen that there now had returned light to the tomb:
“It has light,” he said in a calm and leveled voice—escalating, saying it several times, as the other two scientists looked strangely at him. Now each of the scientists took their turns watching the events unfold. Many thoughts filled their minds; all guesses of course, but that is when the imagination runs wild, when we don’t know, and no one tells us; as a result, they all stood thoughtless for a long while just staring into the telescope watching the turn of events, saying nothing to one another, as they took their five minute intervals.

Humanly speaking, the scientists were tongue-tied, watching these two begins coming out of the butt-end of the projectile. —There were many questions the three scientists had, plus, some kind of investigation surely had to be started, if not by NASA, by the world’s intelligence groups, perhaps the Pentagon, for surely they were awoken to the lights. There was a chance they did not see the two beings moving out of its escape hole underneath the projectile, with their low-grade telescope on earth, for the Observatory’s could amplify the item 60,000-times, and was the only one with that strength in use at the moment in the United States (yet Tom and Toño could not forget the Hubble Space Telescope III, was in place a distance away from the Moon, and it could take wonderful pictures, its intensity was extraordinary, and of course was much closer to the area than the 243,000-miles, as was earth’s telescope at the Observatory. Toño had known it was turned in the opposite direction last time he looked, which was yesterday, yet, no one check it in the past twenty-four hours. The second thought was, that they were the only ones on earth with direct responsibility of monitoring the Tomb so closely; in consequence, if the Military was, they were only in a smaller capacity; and whatever was on their minds, they were not telling anyone, especially the secret site of the Observatory, although everyone knew there was one someplace in the Andes. Again they were saying nothing publicly, perhaps because they felt, the world would wake up and panic if they disclosed the lights being on in the Tomb; if indeed they were aware of the two astronauts coming out of the projectile, would be another matter. It was without question, they saw the lights though, and were perplexed at best.

[Fifteen minutes later] In the mean time, earth scientists at NASA sent out a military space-probe (craft)for investigating the situation, which was normal, thought Tom, but why one with nuclear warheads on it? It was a Comet-probe; called that because of its speed. Approximately 900-miles per minute, thus it would reach its target in about 4.5 hours (or 270-minutes), the Moon and the Tomb; the speed of light being 186,300-miles a second; as one would measure distance in space. Earth’s Space Program at NASA had mastered the ‘State of Repose,’ meaning, to have the body rest during the duration of a voyage disregarding the harsh elements of its environment on the body; Tom had figured out the Tomb most likely had conquered the speed of light—in travel, while putting the beings in a state of hypertension ((or state of repose)), during its trillion-mile voyage was smart.
As I was about to say, broadly speaking, sending out the military-probe seemed somewhat ordinary to Tom, not being of military insight, he left the thought linger under defensive security risks. What was really on the three scientist minds, was: what was next with the two beings of the Tomb; and they put all other issues in the back of their minds; that being, notifying anyone, and only with quick jerks, shifted to monitor the probe as she burst through the stratosphere, into interstellar space.



Earth and Moon



During this time, the two beings from the Tomb incased now into ball like metal coffins, landed on the surface of the moon. The ball like cylinders opened up like a broken egg, yet they were not broken, rather almost like a fetus with a protective thin metal form around them—thus, they left them as one might leave his underwater gear on a beach to return to in a few hours. Then they walked throughout the airless planet as if it was an archeological site; mystified. They had landed on the North West side of the Moon, in an area between Mare Imbrium and Sirus Aestuum; the area to the east was where Apollo 15 had landed years ago, now in the history books. Nearby was the huge crater Copernicus, and Ghost Crater, Stadius. Beyond this was the huge Crater Plolemaeus. The two beings were astounded to see Stadius was completely over run by lava, and within its lower structure were huge crevices like tunnels or caves. They could see the orb of the earth from where they stood, it was a treasure to the two beings to see such color on a planet: a gift, or plus, one might say, especially in the gigantic galaxy called the Milky Way, with its horde of planets and stars, Earth being one of a kind, with its one and only sun, and huge moon to protect it. For they had seen many things, to include the center of the Milky Way, where there was a Black Hole; yet Earth was more a treasured sight to them.
—Tom noticed a strange happenings, both the individuals were picking up small rocks, holding them tight for a moment (as if squeezing them), then putting them back down on the surface, and repeating this experience over and over, about once every two or three minutes. As if they were sucking out some kind of life, or energy form from them; for their existence I would think. Puzzled as he was, he discounted the probe, for the moment, and watched the operation, still glancing back at the shells the two beings left on the moon, trying to put the puzzle together, or was it simple a riddle, not to be unwound?
After a while, this gave Doctor Tom Macare, an idea, and he mentioned it to his fellow scientists.
In the mean time, the probe was nearing its next phase within its flight, as it headed right for the Space Tomb.
—The two beings, now walked among the moons dust, by and by, they found rocks, sucking out life’s existence from them. Broadly speaking, like a bee sucking out the sweetness from a flower. The scientist never faltering in amazement, as they watched the two beings like adolescents watching girls at a dance.
Toño started to take some calculations, then shifted quickly to adjust them, and compared them with those for the past 100-years. Said he to the other two:
“Look here, the weight of the Tomb was at one time: 18,000-pounds; diameter 110-inches, and wall thickness, some 18-inches, the height about twelve feet. Now comparing that data with the first data we took in the year 2025, there is a big noticeable difference. The Tomb now weights 14,882-pounds, diameter 88-inches, and wall thickness, 15-inches; the height seems to have departed with three feet of its length, to nine feet now.”
The other two scientists twitched here and there, said the Englishman, “How can this be?”
All three looking at one another, “Ah, yes, yes, it must be,” said the Englishman, as the other two nodded their heads in agreement.
Now the three scientists saw the military-probe in a direct line going towards the Tomb, with almost frightful faces.
“Should we call NASA, or Military Intelligence, or perhaps, the White House, the FBI, or CIA, anyone?” asked Toño.
Said Tom, looking back into the telescope—with Milan next to him trying to get a glance, “Do whatever you must, we’ll keep you updated.”
But Toño could not bear to leave these comrades with all the new information being extracted minute by minute, and for them to get the glory of the new discovery when the science magazines come out was too much to bear, and to be quite frank, was out of the question. Therefore, he remained with the other two trying to get his 1/3 of the telescope’s time, watching the events unfold, moment by moment. Tom glanced at Toño, realizing he was not going to be the one losing the moment of excitement, and hence, handed the telescope over to him for his five-minute interval, at which time the military-probe had reached its destination.
The lights of the Tomb went off again, as the bodies of the beings were on the moon, they had unplugged their bodies with a connecting devise—before they had left, which went into the main body structure of the Tomb; as if it was an incubator. The probe circled the Tomb several times, but the scientist, Toño had given the telescope back to Tom (saying nothing about its maneuvers), who gave it to Milan, who shifted immediately to the Moons surface and the two beings, Toño not saying anything about the probe, not thinking about it for the most part, for he had only seen it circle once, and that was only halfway around the Tomb, and times slips by quickly by when such things take place.
The military man in the probe now could be seen (by you and me, if this was a movie) talking on a handset-devise, for still the scientist was busy with the beings on the Moon.
“Hom…!” said Toño, “the two shells surely are life supporting items, like turtle shells you might say, how interesting; they must have to plug themselves into them as they do inside the Tomb.”
Tom now could see the life supporting energy the two beings were receiving from the items: rocks in particular, along with some strata formed substances, they were also picking up, “…hom…unbelievable,” was all he could say for the moment; then added: “…these beings could be eons old, whom is to say [?]” and he said no more.
“Calm everybody,” said the Englishman, trying to restore some equilibrium, as they now switched back to the Tomb, watching the military-probe, like a snake circle the obstacle for the eighth time.
“I think…” was all Milan, could say, when all of a sudden the probe disappeared, and a small nuclear blast followed thereafter; Milan’s mouth gaped, he then looked at Tom, as Tom looked at Toño, all stone-still, and silent.
Toño now took command of the telescope, the two small beings, one a little taller than the other, about four feet tall, held the hand of the other, as they walked into the darkness of the moon, seemingly, an endless shadow. Toño knew the smaller one of the two was hurt, hemorrhaging from the fall she took from the blast, she had hit her head on a surface rock. They could have gone to their shells, thought Toño, but they simply looked up and saw their home was gone—blasted into molecular space-dust. As Toño later would demise: ‘…what for [?], why would they even consider going to their shells…for what purpose?” The Moon was cold looking, dark and exhausted. The three scientists could no longer look into the telescope.

[Conclusion: Part One] When one action is put into place, it often times produces ripples; I am referring to the word given on earth to destroy the module, or Space Tomb, that was orbiting the Moon; thus, all forms of ripples, or even waves are ordained thereafter; yes, the Ministers of Doom are released and it is a free-for-all, one might say, and these currents could be many and various—for we deal perhaps with the ages, and beings from the furthermost ends of a galaxy—and know not their capabilities.



Los Andes Space Observatory
[Part II/Project: Space Tomb]


Los Andes Space Observatory



[July 16, 2126 AD] The engineering of the Space Tomb was simple, it was like a comet, it drew its energy from the sun, and the Tomb gave energy to its occupants. It had a cooling system, and when farthest away from a star or sun it—when it got coldest—as space can be 250 Fahrenheit, below zero—(and so their Thermometer read), there was always enough energy locked into its system to carry on until it needed to gather up more of a supply at its next destination; and hibernation for the crew members was always a way of conserving energy, thus the two astronauts would go into such a state. And unless disturbed by some kind of turbulence, the inertia, or state of the capsule, and the condition of the astronauts inside it, remained in a reposed arrangement, until woken up at its next destination; woken up only if disturbed because of a disturbance. But most often they never knew they where traveling in space, for there was no obstacles blocking their vessel’s path, it was just a dark, cold endless, tireless, ongoing ocean of nothingness (space), until they looked out a window and saw they were getting closer to something, an object, a planet, light, a passing comet, or asteroid field.
The scientists from earth had deciphered the lettering on the spacecraft, they once called the Space Tomb, before they destroyed it; it was called Cibara—#7, they were not sure what that was, but their best guess was their right guess, it was another planet, in another solar system; or at least Tom Macare, came to that conclusion, and his boss Toño, who worked at the Los Andes Space Observatory [Peruvian]. A few months after the United States Military Comet-Probe destroyed the Space Tomb with a small nuclear blast, this discovery was brought out in the scientific journals by Tom and Toño (their assistant, Milan Thomas ((English)) had quite because of the destructive way the military had acted with the Space Tomb).







Northwest Side of the Moon



International-NASA (now owned by the United Nations), had allowed another space exhibition, journey that is, from the University of Minnesota, for the purpose of younger students to study the physical structure [geological studies] of the moon; wherein, they would provide all information to them upon their return, before releasing it to the University for others to study. It would be a four hour flight to the moon, and the astronauts would have to be put into a state of relaxation, called the ‘repose state’ where the body functions normally, according to the body needs and not according to the elements of the environment.
At present, the International Space Station was but 100,000-miles from the earth with scientists from Russia, England and France along with Americans; and the Hobble Space Telescope III, was 43,000-miles from that. The moon, being about 110,000-miles from the Telescope; all was in place when their space craft left the Florida coast, and the space telescope from the Los Andes Observatory along with the Hobble III, followed their movements. It was routine for the most part; yet no expeditions were allowed for a year because of the nuclear blast being so close to the moon, they wanted to test the molecular debris around the Moon, and within a 2000-mile radius from the moon to space. Thus, the clear sign was given.
—At this time, Tom Macare and Toño positioned their telescope back onto the moon, knowing where they were going to land they scanned the area. They did not know the two surviving Cibaralites were alive and well on the opposite side of the moon, the northwest side. They had survived the blast, and the ongoing elements of the moon, with its freezing temperatures and so forth. They had journeyed to what was known as Mare Imbrium (a Mare being like a dried up sea for the most part), not far from them was where Apollo 15 had landed years prior to this, now ancient history of course. Consequently, they crossed over to Stadius, otherwise known as the Ghost Crater. Here, they found, in-between fissures towards the bottom of the crater, a home like cave, wherein they made their home for a year. They had plugged their bodies into their shell like apparatuses that they used to descend to the moon from their spacecraft; this cave allowed them to have these devises grounded into the walls of the crater, where the machine could extract the vital oils and resources their bodies needed to survive, and transform them into matter their body could use for nourishment. To the southwest of them was Mare Humorum, and to the north, Copernicus.
By some kind of second insight, they knew the spacecraft from Earth, to the moon had taken off with Doctor Peter Leaky, and his two students, Hans Bosbash, from Frankfurt, Germany, and Luiz Colitt, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The doctor, fifty-seven years old, was married, with no children, and the two students, both 26-years old, were not married. By the time the expedition had landed with their space unit, and spacesuits on the moon, on the eastside of the moon, nearby where Apollo 11, now a historical landing site, the two stranded astronauts from the Space Tomb, were watching the three earthlings gathering rocks and testing them, some three hundred-yards from their craft.
As the two closed in on the space unit, they were not noticed at all, therefore, they crept into the unit unseen. The two worked as a team, the female seemingly quicker with figuring out how the mechanics of the space unit worked, and how to operate it manually. The husband, or male astronaut, looked about, and then caught the eyes of Hans. Hans wiped his eyes quickly, to see if what he was seeing was really what he was seeing; and the two ducked down, but again, it seemed the two Cibaralites did not panic, as if they knew by instinct the three was not coming. Matter-of-fact, Hans mentioned it to the Doctor, in a passing sort of way, and all three looked at the unit gracefully, but came to the no conclusion, and accepted it as a mirage; for they all went back to working; which they would regret in a moments time, for no longer had they turned their heads back to the scientific investigations they were doing, when the space unit started ascending.

(Let me leap back to the Ghost Crater a moment, before all this took place.)—During this time period, Tom had seen the Cibaralites crossing over like deer, leaping from one spot to the next, in, or on should I say, the northwestern part of the Moon, by Stadius, to the eastern part, but he said nothing, not a word, nothing at all, not even to Toño who was sleeping. He had made a mistake a year ago, and he was not going to make another. It was—he felt—the fate of the earthlings, or astronauts, as it was the fate of the Cibaralites a year ago. Thus, where does one step into preserving the other? But the second thought on his mind was, ‘…where was their next destination?’ As the two leaped from spot to spot, they both carried their shell like devises with them, the ones that kept them alive for over a year on the Moon, and the ones that they had descended to the Moon in, from their spacecraft, so dubbed the Tomb by Earth’s scientists.

It is a sad tale, but I must finish it. Once they reached the International Space Vessel, again it was not long for the female to figure out the operational expertise of the spacecraft, and relay it to her mate. And within minutes they were space bound. And the three astronauts were left on the moon with an hour’s air; and the two inside the space vessel, turned off all communications with Florida and Huston—(whom had blueprinted this expedition); and this also automatically turned off all communications with the stranded astronauts.
Sedna/by Pluto and Beyond
Destination Sedna


Doctor Macare looked at his monitoring screen pertaining to the international vessel, and across its computer read: “Sedna, Sedna, Sedna…and then, Cibara, Cibara…” as if the Cibaralites new what he wanted to know, which was his pay for silence I suppose. Then the screen went blank. Tom and Toño, already knew where Sedna was, it ranged between 450 to 1000-million miles from earth during its orbit; it was a brown asteroid looking orb, two thirds the size of Planet Pluto, which was in the direction they were headed. He was then wondering: perhaps Pluto, Sedna and Cibara were all by one another, and Sedna crossed over into another solar system, where Cibara was. Anything was possible at this point. Then as the computer had went black, at that moment Toño woke up looked towards Tom and the blank computer, asked, “Amigo, what has happened?”


Sedna to Cibara
[Part III to Project Space Tomb]



Sedna/by Pluto and Beyond

Sedna’s composition is ice and soil, mixed for the most part with (H20) water; (CH4) methane and frozen CO2 (carbon dioxide). The soil is carbon rich—brown from the components. Temperatures on Sedan get 300-below zero (at 450-plus, all heat is of course nonexistent, it seldom gets to that point though). It is two thirds the size of the Planet Pluto, and travels a 1000-million mile orbit in one direction, and is ten times the distance from Earth’s sun, to Earth’s stable 93,000-million mile distance.
This is what the Cibaralites astronauts were chasing as it was bound to cross over into Cibara’s orbit, in the outer limits of Earth’s solar system, it would go past Pluto and beyond, and they could hitch a ride. This large mass of frozen rock would remain in Cibara’s orbit but a few days, only to have a window of opportunity, a few hours in length, hence, this being their chance to break loose with its gravitational orbit, to descend to the planet Cibara, their home; as a result, this would have to take place, or else be pulled along with Sedan’s magnetic hold, equal to that of the Earth’s vs. Earth’s Moon’s.

International Space Probe [Explorer]



The travelers, their body makeup was capable of withstanding extreme limits of cold, thus, the space-probe [explorer], was now chasing Sedna like a bee, and even if the heading system did not work well, just the motion of the probe at such a high velocity would keep the outer part of the craft hot, thus, they’d not freeze to death.

—At the Space Observatory, Los Andes, Space Center, Tom had explained all to Toño who was now monitoring the space vessel, chasing Sedna into an unfamiliar orbit, and beyond the Oort Cloud (or Kuiper Belt), where a trillion comets dwelled (balls of frozen gas, dust, and water). Here they whoosh, flew by like a bullet freely, and the two Cibaralites knew it was dangerous, and difficult to transcend, but if they could get into the gravity of Sedna, they’d be pulled along and perhaps protected: if not bombarded by an oncoming comet; and accordingly being pulled themselves out of the gravity belt, in time to catch Cibara’s. For, inasmuch as they could tell, the space craft could pull its self out of the no atmosphere asteroid, and into that of Cibara’s with ease, for it had done so with Earth’s a dozen times over; the craft was not like they were a hundred years ago, which was quite primitive, but strong enough now to withstand what was needed for advance space travel.
The two scientists knew Sedna would enter into the dusty and complicated comet scattered belt ahead—and soon, and into the outer realm of the solar system, but they could follow with the help of Hobble IV, a space telescope some thirty million miles past the moon, monitoring dead space, and galaxies for the International Community, and Military Scientists; yet at the moment, it was freed for their use, at Toño’s request, as he had said he needed to get some data on the comets in the Oort Cloud, knowing, had he said more on the two astronauts, they’d be hunted down by several military Comet-Space Probes, which acted like assassins.


Interlude

[Narrator] This is a good place to take a rest from the story and explain the following. Toño followed the explorer probe carefully with the two telescopes working together, to send back the reflections of the giant asteroid, called Sedna, and its warm spacecraft, which showed its heat level as all things in motion have, onto their sensory screen, thus catching a dotted glimpse of their whereabouts as they followed the asteroid, into the density of the Oort Cloud. Again both so self consumed with the moments happenings, they did not look at priorities, if they had them, or even consequences; thus not reporting nothing to the authorities. In the past 100-years or so, they had chartered over 10,000-new planets in other galaxies, but not Cibara, or Moiromma, beyond the Oort Cloud, in another solar system—; you might add, the reason being, planets unlike stars do not generate their own light, but reflect the planets star’s light. And Cibara and Moiromma, where too far between earths’s sun; and their own sun, which was 200-million miles beyond them, going in the opposite direction of Earth. Both Cibara and Moiromma had moons, thus, a protection at times from the elements coming in from space, likened to Earth’s Moon. But at best, only a small wobble in Cibara could be detected with a dim shadowy orb along with it, and that was very faint to the searchers, which Tom noticed searching beyond Sedna; but no sooner had Toño taken the telescope— he followed Sedna again—noticing beyond Sedna, there was something else, “But why would the two Cibaralites pinpoint their planet to us…?” Toño mumbled out loud? ‘…and only to us…?’

[Sedna] The travelers had caught Sedna’s orbit just before they passed Pluto—now looking back at Neptune behind them, the space travelers smiled at one another, as did Toño to Tom, as they kept watch on the progress as they neared and entered the Kuiper Belt, bodies of comets and asteroids all about, here and there, objects everywhere. (Sedna having a 1000-plus mile diameter, the travelers hoped it would be a good shield for them until they reached their home planet; inasmuch as, Sedna looped around Cibara in its long and enduring orbit. They were like hitchhikers.)

—Toño looked about through the telescope, he could see a 900-mile diameter asteroid, called 2004-DW, kind of a giant object for the Kuiper Belt one might say, reddish-brown, orbiting close to Pluto, and nearing Sedna, as it had passed, so close, the probe was almost sucked into its thrust; somehow, both huge bodies neutralizing one another, as the spacecraft wobbled about between them two great bodies for a short moment; thereafter, settling closer to Sedna.
The female Cibaralite looked at the chronometer, it was 4:00 PM, earth time, terrestrial time, who knows, it was morning on Sedna, for the reflection of the sun could be seen on its convexity (outer curve, which reflected the mountains, and a few craters, shadows mixed with light; an orange kind of light.) They could see the Northern hemisphere; it looked like the probe was capable of pulling away from Sedna’s gravity.
As the travelers neared Cibara they shifted into Cibara’s orbit quickly and whirled about, they fell fast and deep into its atmosphere, red hot speeding through it, burning up as if the brakes of a train were being pushed on too quickly, way too quickly. They needed to slow down, and should they crash, they’d be nothing but vapor. But they were on the Northern Hemisphere, and as the cold of the winter hit the body of the probe, it cooled, and the travelers went into a frozen crater lake, this also, sizzled the outer frame of the spacecraft, allowing it to cool instantly, and as it sank, warmed the waters and unthawed the frozen ice, some 18-inches thick; but safe they were.

They would remain on Cibara for a short while; but they had a job to do back on the Moon, which would affect the Earth, and both travelers, gave an oath, to do it or die trying. The Cibaralites were a revengeful type of people you might say.

[Part four, on a napkin yet.]




Ministers of Doom
[Part IV to “Project: Space Tomb]





The Planet Cibara, looking up at Moiromma

[2127 AD—Spring] Have you ever put your brakes on? Or if you’ve been on a train, have you ever noticed what happens to the steel wheels of a train when the brakes are put on? I have, as a boy watched this experiment many times. It is motion turned into heat, atoms busting wild into the environment. The earth rotates around the sun faster than we can count, the trip takes 356-days, the moon’s attraction to the earth saves us from being burnt up as does the atmosphere; should we lose that, we’d lose our oceans into space. The earth, if it suddenly stopped what would happen? Woops…! Red lights would go on long before that, I hope. But Doctor Milam Skares, and his wife Mrs. Anita Skares, were about to do just that. They created a devise that could stop the earth like a train, just for a moment in time. It is possible, so they told their Court of Request a group of several elites on Cibara; yes, they wanted revenge from the earthlings for stranding them on the moon. They had claimed they created a devise that could stop the earth; faint smiles came on the several faces at the Court of Requests. Diabolical faces to say the least.
“This is how it would work,” said the two scientists. It had been a year since they had arrived back home from their voyage to Earth’s moon, and still quiet hot festering some sort of revenge, revenge due earth, and its inhabitants, it was festering in their veins; likened to the ‘Merchant of Venice’; but they wanted more than a pound of flesh, they wanted all of Earth’s flesh, roasted into vapor.

Written in July, 2005/ parts 2 thru 4, reedited 3-2007

"Elephants in the Sky" (A Terrifying Story based on actual events ((Timbuktu)) Reedited 3/2007

Addendum (to: “Elephants in the Sky):



Dear Dennis (Siluk),

I "went" on your website and read a part of the article "Elephants in the Sky (a story about Timbuktu…." The article [story] is very interesting and I am very impressed by your bibliography and by the way you narrated this locust drama. Unfortunately it is not fiction but reality and I thank you to have reminded [us]… human beings.
I hope you will not be unlucky like your hero Lee, the former G.I., who in spite of his experience could not resist… these "small insects" or "big elephants" in Timbuktu.

Thank you,
Your friend Deo Kpadenou
Bamako, MALI

(Letter, dated: 3-12-2007)

Note: The Story “Elephants in the Sky,” was written: © 3/26/2005 Dennis L. Siluk (Revised, reedited, 3/2007)

(Story written after the plague that took place in West Africa)



A brief Summery of (Timbuktu): Timbuktu, also spelled TOMBOUCTOU, is a city in the West African nation of Mali. It is historically important as a post on the trans-Saharan caravan route. It is located on the southern edge of the Sahara, north of the Niger River, a centre for the expansion of Islam, an intellectual and spiritual capital at the end of the Mandingo Askia dynasty (1493-1591) and home to a esteemed Koranic university. Three great mosques built at that time, using traditional techniques, still remain.
Timbuktu was founded about AD 1100 as a seasonal camp by Tuareg nomads. After it was incorporated within the Mali Empire, around the late 13th century, the Mali sultan, Mansa Musam, built a tower for the Great Mosque (Djingereyber) and a royal residence, the Madugu.
In the 14th century Timbuktu became important because of its gold-salt trade; with this came the arrival of the North African merchants, and their settlements with Muslim scholars.
The city's scholars attracted many students from far and near, perhaps one reason being, many scholars had studied in Mecca or Egypt.
Small salt caravans from Taoudenni still arrive in Timbuktu in winter, but there is no gold of course to offer in exchange. The city can be reached by air, camel or boat usually from Bamako, the Capitol city of Mali.


—The Story

“Elephants in the Sky”


[1980s, Lee Evens in Mali, Timbuktu/West Africa]




Advance: Lee was discharged from the Army in 1980, whereupon, he traveled the world, one of those locations happened to be in Mali, by the legendary city of Timbuktu; whereupon he found himself in the middle of a plague, a plague of locust.

[Diary-review]


There were swarms of locust over the top of my car, in front of me, in front of the car—swarms I say, swarms: a dark shadow covering the sky, descending, downward descending onto the road—in front of me, behind me, it was locusts, locusts, locusts—locusts everywhere, everyplace: so thick, deep with layers that it made my car skid—slipping and sliding as if on ice. They seemed like they walked, creakingly walked, walked among the sky, and cluttered so close together they looked like big oaks; akin to a druid dark sky, coeval with the leering depressed cerulean atmosphere. They looked like pools of ghouls embracing, taking up the hooded faded sky that looked like early evening, but wasn’t. ‘Good God, good God, good God,’ I cried!
My radiator was being blocked, plugged by these finger-sized carcasses. I had to pull over to the side of the road. It was but a moment thereafter when I saw some adolescents down the road a bit, not too far, just a little ways, three of them trying to beat them off, beat the locusts with their belts, pants belts. Then one resorted to a stick, a stick I say, not thick not thin, just an ordinary stick: would you use a stick? To be honest, I’d run I think, run like hell, yes oh yes, like hell, as if demons were after me, that is what I’d do; anyhow, one took this ordinary stick to beating them off, while the others used their hats, hands, ordinary things; they were dropping down like hail onto them from all sides; ragged looking shadows of them, full-fledged shadows, throbbing against their bodies, yes they were throbbing against their bodies, these locusts: down and sideways: bombarding them like creatures from outer space: like in the bible, where it mentions such things happening back in those far off days, the days of Moses: the plagues God bequeath upon the pharaoh.
I think these kids would have loved to have found a window anyplace to climb through, and nail it shut about now; I kept looking out of my car window, and these creatures, these biological insects from some heated abyss, chasm, or deep hole, stained my windows grimly, with their restless, dentate pointed mania heads and scribbled bodies.
This was bad, very bad; the large insects were in their hair, noses, ears, climbing up their pants legs, flying straight for their mouths. They tried to spit them out—cough them up, but more would just jump from ear to nose to mouth: endlessly.
The whole area was becoming infested with them [them: being, those locust critters; huge grasshoppers]. They were becoming as thick, wide as the walls of Troy—twenty feet deep. I turned the engine of my rented car off; it spit and sputtered a bit, then it came to a dead stop, a burping stop. I could not see the boys anymore, only a cocoon of these creatures several inches thick around them—like mummies; they now rolled about on the ground like dying lions, screaming: it simply shivered me; it was as if hate and love coiled within my stomach.
For a hundred miles around I had heard they were eating up the crops before anyone had time to harvest them; catastrophic damage to all the crops, as the new generation of larvae appeared—thus, widening the dimensions of the one-hundred mile radius to possibly two-hundred miles (sooner than later). But now they were on top of my car: yes, yes, yes, on top of my car; under it, all over it, and in the fields beside me, on the road. I was but twenty-five miles outside of Timbuktu. Ah! What would you do?
As far as I knew, there was no means of spraying available to kill these creepy-crawlers, nor any other treatment, why that occurred to me, is beyond me, I mean who gives a shit, I’m in the middle of it; yes, yes, no equipment as supplies were of a minimum and vehicles were scarce—I was lucky, I mean really lucky to have secured a deal getting my hands on this jeep.
I was now witnessing farmers beating the locust into trenches (these: Acididae, a family of devouring insects, as I had learned to call them in my biology class, back so far in my college days, I forgot exactly when); what more could they do? I mean besides what they did I suppose, swatting them, whacking them, from all sides, and running: I mean running, terrifyingly running! Like the boys could have done, didn’t do, but should have thought of doing, but who has a clear mind in such a petrifying moment, event, they simply could not do anymore than what they did I expect, otherwise they would have. Alas!

(This was the moment I’d put forward to later, when telling others they looked like elephants in the sky. But that was to be a little bit in the future yet; now they just kept coming and coming and coming, these locust-insects.)

Now I’m breathing in the hot air in the jeep, it seems to me I’m recycling my own air. In the five-mile area they covered most everything; there were at least, must have been at least, couldn’t be less than 250-million locust I figured (insects); hoppers, yellow winged hoppers—crazy and manic hoppers, as if they were on a sugar high. That would be a weight volume of 5000-elephants dropping from the sky. I had a lot of time to figure that out, for the most part, let’s say hours watching these hoppers fly and jump, and descend, trying to eat my tires—trying to get into the jeep and eat me.
‘Try, try, try,’ I said, ‘…fuck you all,’ I said.

[Entry] “I was in Timbuktu a few days ago, and I’m on my way back to Timbuktu now, I had been in the countryside—where theses devouring insets (hoppers) were breeding, I am not sure where it was in particular, but it was in Mali where they had breed I do believe—first, someplace in Mali. I was doing what I love to do, checking out some old writings that were found in one of the old mud houses in Timbuktu; realizing at one time Timbuktu was a Mecca for learning for the Muslims, or better put, Islamic cultured; on the old Silk Road you could say. I was eager, the phenomenon would move east, away from me, to Sudan or Chad, or all the way to Egypt; move away to anyplace, but out of Mali and for sure, away from Timbuktu in particular. I was surprised there was not a humanitarian crisis alert, or if there was it didn’t look like it from where I was; I mean, where were the United Nations vehicles? A good question I figured, and never to be answered.
The trick is to kill them before new generations developed, consequently, stopping them in their tracks from breaking into other places—countries, and a new cycle starting. The crops I knew would be gone soon in the south and now in this area as well, if they were not yet, and should they go east—well, let them worry about that.”

They leaped like little elephants on the hood now, hood of, of my car; they looked, looked into my windows, deep into my windows, nose against the glass (smutches all over the glass like a disease; voracious little dispositions all over their faces, like fairies stuck together) as if I was eatable, somehow I got the sense (they had the scent, my scent I expect) they knew I was trapped in the car, and I was for sure. But I remembered what Solomon told me in Egypt, Cairo a few months back: should something like this occur—so it was somewhat forecasted almost—and it was now developing: anyhow he said,
“(‘…should this occur…’) Try to make it till morning, when everything cools down.”

I figured the wingless ‘hoppers’ the new breed, were developing now in the fields around me as the adult yellow ones could be seen flying about eating, and killed by whomever (the farmers and gosh, that was about it for now).

[The Big Hopper: diary entry]

One big hopper gazed through my window, must be the size of a sparrow—(I’m writing this down as he’s looking at me). At its sight I saw its milky eyes, they followed me eerily followed me, then I realized it was somewhat blind, I mean, its eyes gave out a yellowness to it—somewhat piercingly, as if it had cataracts—perhaps trying to see clearer, its lips trembled from old age—feverishly so, it mumbled something, as if talking to itself, then it stood aside to let the younger ones peer in on me. Was I their trapped animal, in their zoo?
“Come…súh!” (Note: the author translates for the bug) the big one said (smiling an amiable grin).
Thus, with apprehensiveness my eyebrows were quivering with my nervous system, which was wacky. Panting like a dog I was, and so bewildered…! I ended up looking out the window for the longest time…or so it seemed, blankly looking, as if in a trance; then turning my head demurely to see if any of those hoppers where in back of me—sneaking up on me; or getting inside the jeep. My eyes could not relax from this insidious invading force, if anything was quite disarming…this was, but then what would you expect, harmony in the middle of an earthquake? What would you expect? I found myself drifting at times, but I knew I couldn’t go to sleep. I mean who could?
There I sat behind the wheel, crouched forward to peer through the blinding storm of locust; these hoppers were like rain sheets hitting the windshield, hitting quicker than the wipers could fan it clean. My palm and forehead had a glossy mist to it—sweat and pain, and unknown chemicals coming out of my pours.


—It was now mid-afternoon, and they were hot, it was hot, I was hot, everything, even the car was hot, and hence, morning would be my best time to make my move, when they’d be cooled down, down in the crops around me—quiet. Therefore, I had turned my car off, completely off, and I’d leave my car off until morning, the suspense would come at daybreak when I’d have to turn it back on, start it up again.

—[2:00 AM] I must had fallen to sleep, and an automatic clock in my head woke me up, it was inky dark out there, outside my windows, and so, I started my car up, it choked a bit, but it started, and I noticed my water gage going up, as if a water hose was plugged or ripped. I turned the car off. I didn’t want to make too much noise, just get out of here and get back to Timbuktu: I figured they’d follow the crops, and bypass the city; oh possibly a few million might divert themselves to the city, but that is not bad; I mean, what is a million when you got 249-million more. I knew they were all on the cool ground and in a few hours they’d be in the air again—over me again; and should they decide to stick around I’d die of a heat stroke I figured, sooner than later that is, sooner than they’d get a chance to eat me anyhow.
I opened my car door slowly, pacifying the moment; shinned a flashlight on the road beside me, there were many about—sleeping, quiet, almost stone-still—could I have hummed them to oblivion, I would have; but I could walk around them for the most part I figured, and I did, did just that, then I opened the hood of the jeep, slowly, quietly, with more gentleness then I ever knew I had, as if it was a woman, looked at the hose, and several hoppers flew in my face, I had glasses on, they poked at my eyes nonetheless, I said nothing, nothing at all, just swatted them away with the rag I had in my hand—and I didn’t use much force in doing that either. One hose had a small crack in it. I knew I’d lose water, all the water I had in the car in about five miles should I not fix it, or repair it that is, with twenty miles left to go beyond that five miles, should I not fix it—I’d be worse off than now, I’d be stranded right in their pathway—God forbid!
The engine was covered with the winged hoppers, I wanted to say to these hoppers a few gruesome swear words (actually curse them to hell), but I can’t, I told myself, I’d wake the others up for sure; I had waked them up—a few of them up already, and they started to fly out and about clearing a passage to my hose for me, I didn’t want to wake anymore than necessary.
They were not massively jumping on me yet, just a few, trying to crawl up my pants legs—tickling me here and there: slightly attacking my glasses; I think they like glass—but just a few attacked me, as if half in a fog, out of some kind of instinct, or automatic reflex I would guess (almost like sleepwalking): nothing to get alarmed about I told myself. I tried not to open my mouth, a few seemed to spot it when I took in a deep breathe of air—as if they had radar, consequently, they zoomed right at it, I had to spit them out as when they hit my face their legs seemed to have found their way into the crevice of my mouth—sticky psychotic insects. Then I got an idea, I opened the trunk of the jeep up, took out a five gallon can of gasoline, in this country you always carry extra gas, water and food, always—lest you find yourself in some deserted location, as I have at this very moment (with no resources); I poured it on the side of the road, up about two-hundred-feet leading into the fields, then on my way back I took my First Aid kit, put the white tape—normally used for bandaging wounds—put it around the hole in the hose (not making a deliberate sound, but not soundless), and started my car up, at the same time I lit the gasoline by throwing a match out of the window onto the road, and I hit the accelerator to fifty-miles an hour (it’s as fast as my jeep would go ((it was an old US Army jeep they must had purchased it from some Army surplus garage)) and I watched the road and fields explode with lightening-like fire behind me.
Yes, yes, yes, behind me was a windless fire breeding into the fields, eating hoppers while sleeping, roasted grasshoppers, like hotdogs (it was indeed a magical moment): yes, yes, yes they woke up, this horde of hoppers woke up in a French-fired position I’m sure; to them I expect it was their ‘Pompeii,’ and shall talk about it for a thousand years to come in this region of the world; to me it was salvation; oh yes, yes, yes, it is what legends are made out of in the hopper-world, I’m sure—; I got a mouth full of toxic fumes which was the only curse of the predicament for me, and a bonfire galore as I raced onto Timbuktu.

—When I got to the city, it was locked up tight, everyone afraid to come out of their mud huts, and beautiful mosques. I knew I couldn’t tell them I had lit the fire—for my sake; they’d make me pay for the corps I suppose (after the crisis was over I’m sure; for humanity has a short memory when it comes to thank-you’s and money). But I think they were happy to see it was all over, and a few heard my jeep motor, for slowly one by one they appeared, a few came out of their shops until the whole main street was out looking about with their doors open, ready to run back in a moments notice. I had expected them to invade the city somewhat—somewhat expected this to happen, as did the residents, but none did; and they did go east. That's why, had I told them about me lighting the fire, they’d have roasted me in it, so my silence, or intuition was right on.

Written 3/26/2005© by Dennis L. Siluk, while at the BN, Café in Roseville,
Minnesota 55113, USA (Revised: 276-words added, and reedited, 2007)