Intergalactic Harmony:

Thought For Food

(Author’s introductory note: Intergalactic Harmony is a series of short, humorous sci-fi stories which champion the bizarre and the extraordinary. The series follows the various expeditions and exploits of a certain “Mr Friend”, an envoy sent from Earth on many missions of peace and unification in regard to the members of the discovered intergalactic races…

His assistant, the young and inexperienced “Mr Peter”, accompanies the former as he travels the universe in aid of peace and unity…)

Mr Peter was just settling down in his chair and beginning his day’s work when Mr Friend rushed in through the office door and thrust a pile of fresh papers on Mr Peter’s desk.

“Quickly”, he exclaimed, “Get those in order and then report to the space dock. We’ve had a new job come in and it’s quite urgent…”

Mr Peter opened his mouth to form a question, but his employer cut it short with a look which suggested sudden and violent retributions in response to any questioning…

The young man began the work with a sigh- whilst Friend began rummaging in his own desk, and then, having found and pocketed some object or other which he evidently required, he made for the office door to leave.

“Get your things together. We’re going on a journey which might require a couple of days or more…”

Friend then left his assistant to finish the paperwork alone.

The large entrance door to the transport space vessel opened, and a small, blue-eyed man with white hair entered, carrying with him a large suitcase and a bundle of papers in his other hand.

After these latter had been dropped, cursed at and then hastily re-arranged, the man sat down wearily and looked at his time device.

“Come on, Peters…”, he mumbled to himself, “Don’t keep me waiting…”

The time, Mr Friend had noted upon his embarkation, was 10.13 M EH (Morning, Earth Hours).

At precisely 11.49 M EH, a tall, rather poetic and dreamy-looking young man entered the vessel.

Handing his boss a sheaf of papers, with a hasty (and somewhat fearful) apology, he then placed his own travelling case in the luggage section and sat down opposite Mr Friend.

“What the hell kept you!? You’ve had nearly two hours to arrange those papers!”

“I’m sorry, Mr Friend…”

“What were you doing!? I wanted you to just fill in the necessary information in those documents- not subject them to in-depth analysis like some ancient Masorete!”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t tell me you spilt something again…”

“No, no…It’s just…on the way here… I saw this friend and…”

“Ah! So that’s it! One of your female friends from the ever-exotic “Star Bar”, no doubt…”

“Well, sort of… I mean…”

“Well you won’t be meeting tonight, that’s for sure… We’ve important work ahead of us.”

(The “Star Bar” was a local nightclub just a few yards away from the office where Friend and Peters conducted their work of contributing to the general peace and harmony of the known universe and its many races… Known as a haunt of many space-faring individuals- some of whom were of a seedy and rather frightening disposition- this dubious club also attracted a rich variety of female visitors from around the galaxy, whose purposes and designs often revolved around the acquisition of money, fun, male companionship- and quite often all three, by whatever means or methods possible… Mr Friend had time and again warned his young assistant of the inherent dangers of frequently presenting one’s person in such an environment- but, like so many young men, Peters had rebuffed the counsel with the air of one who has somehow reversed the laws of time and the knowledge and wisdom that one can acquire after a great deal of it has passed by…)

After Mr Friend had concluded his ardent berating of the young assistant, he sat back in his chair and, after recovering his breath (which took some time…), began to inform Peters of the unusual mission upon which they were now engaged…

“Our mission”, (here Mr Friend assumed an air of great importance and dignity) “just given to me in person by a member of the Bureau, is to communicate with and conduct a new alien life form during its intended passage to Earth… This life form, so I am informed, is a very curious creature indeed… It is reportedly large, highly intelligent (as Mr Friend pronounced these last two words, he looked at Mr Peters in a way that suggested there was a great deal of disparity between their meaning and the object upon which his attention was currently fixed…) and has a very curious manner of feeding… Reports made to the Bureau from an expert in alien languages, and also a member of the exploratory party which first discovered this entity, on a planet right at the edge of our galaxy, tell us that this being is from a galaxy much distant from our own, and from a race that is, for some currently unknown reason, dying out… This alien creature has travelled the universe in search of a suitable planet that will provide it with the right nutrition and diet so crucial to its kind…”

“So what does it eat, then?” Mr Peters butted in.

“In a word: Thoughts!”

“Thoughts!?”

“That’s right. Thoughts…”

“So… what…how…”

“I’ll explain. Apparently, from what we know up to this point, this race feeds off of the energy and force generated by the thoughts of living beings. The energy is transmitted to them in a fashion which is not currently understood by our scientists, and also ingested and used within themselves in a way beyond our knowledge of biology. Its current location, the planet Mindfal, was until recently home to the race known as the Mindfallians (their home and race so expertly named, as is his custom, by the distinguished official intergalactic geographer Marcus Norman) whose thoughts, being so abundant and powerful in their intensity and quality, provided ample nourishment to the entity we are shortly to meet…

Most regrettably, their race has been essentially wiped out by the growing threat of the “Heinalken-Virus”, thought to have first originated on the planet “Nusun…””

“Quite a worry that,” Peters interjected seriously (partly to prove to his employer the much-debated fact that he could be serious, and partly to prove that he had been listening- a proof Mr Peters was in frequent need of providing, owing to the highly excitable nature of his intellectual powers which, though lacking in quality of thought, abounded in quantity…)  

“Yes, it is. So, with the downfall of the Mindfallians, this alien has been left without its usual sustenance and is in need of locating a new and suitable source of food. Also, it seems this being is of a greatly advanced age, and has grown weak and limited in its powers of travel. Thus, it will be transported on a large emptied cargo freighter on its journey to Earth…”

“Its journey to Earth! We’re taking it to Earth?” Peters exclaimed.

“Yes. Our leaders on Earth have agreed, after swift discussion amongst themselves- for the life left to the alien is short, and it has also been harmed somewhat by the lack of necessary food since the downfall of the Mindfallians- that the being is safe to bring to Earth. We will accompany the alien aboard the freighter, and assure it of its rights and security upon its new home. A large building is being prepared upon Earth for its housing.”

“Wow. How exciting! And unusual… I suppose the alien is quite friendly?”

“So it would seem…” Mr Friend said gravely, “But I have been in this job too long to accept that as fact this early… Many an alien being has assumed such an appearance of friendliness and peace, only to later relapse into the most furious and violent aggression towards the citizens of Earth… Therefore, it will, be a part of our job, as well as that of the military and other approved personnel aboard the freighter and surrounding vessels, to discern and remain cautious of the overall temperament and behaviours of this newly discovered life form… We shall interact with and monitor this creature, and doubtless learn much about it on our journey homeward, both by way of direct communication and other means of observation…”

“I see…” Mr Peters seemed lost in thought for a moment…

Mr Friend gave a knowing smile, and waited for the inevitable stream of likely trivial and petty questions that would often pour forth from his assistant during occasions of note such as this…

In a way, he was glad, for this occasion could be used to give instruction and direction to his young employee, and would doubtless serve as a useful source of experience for the young man’s future career…

Mr Peters had been thinking deeply and perhaps a little anxiously for a couple of minutes, Friend had noted, and, pleased at this abundance of thought before speech, inquired encouragingly: “Is there something you’d like to know?”

“Yes!” agreed Peters suddenly and with some anxiety, “Will we be home by Saturday evening? It’s just I’ve already arranged to meet a “friend” at the “Star Bar” then and…”

As the transport vessel approached the planet Mindfal, Friend and Peters prepared to disembark and meet the alien being.

Mr Friend was not at all satisfied with his young companion, and it was a firmness that approached violence that he urged his assistant through the vessel’s open door with a hand upon his back.

Stumbling onto the ground of the alien world, Mr Peters blinked cautiously a few times and gazed about him.

The vessel had landed inside a huge cave system, by way of a narrow entranceway on the planet’s surface,

The roof and walls of the cave they were currently inside were high and wide, and an impressive sense of space, height, width and depth was evident all about them. Also, a slight echo was present, rendering a curious element to any audible sentence or sound.

“Mr Friend! And Peters! Hullo there!”

A man in a military-style uniform came over to greet the two men from Earth.

“My name is Captain Adams. You are from the Bureau Of Intergalactic Relations, right?” he inquired.

“Yes, that’s us.” Friend replied, “Where do we go from here? Time is of the essence.”

“Of course. This way, gentlemen.”

Captain Adams led the way carefully but swiftly across the rocky cave floor.

The transport vessel was in the centre of the cave- Adams led them away from it towards a very small opening at one side of the cave.

Passing through it, they emerged in another adjoining cave, even bigger in proportion to the previous chamber.

“Amazing!” Peters said, and Mr Friend seemed a little awed as well by the impressive dimensions of the area.

“We’ve reduced the echo a bit using echo-reducers,” explained the Captain, “But some still remains. Bit of a nuisance, really…” he added.

As well as the largeness of the cave, another object, even more impressive in structure and strangeness, greeted the two diplomatists.

In the centre of the larger cave, which was some distance from the entrance they had used, “sat”, it could be said, a truly remarkable being.

A huge, blue, flabby entity resided there, with a huge, round dome of a forehead, a single, enormous eye which blinked incredibly slowly every half a minute or so, a tremendous, fleshy middle or waist, and long, notably thin and slender, legs.

It seemed crouched there, almost ready to spring forward as it were like a toad, though doubtless it reclined in a fashion comfortable to those of its kind…

Its middle, seemingly fat and oversized, had a curious habit of slowly rising and falling, from its “chin” down almost to the ground, then slowly up towards the head, its uppermost parts coming into slight contact with its head…

The newly arrived pair stood stunned at its appearance for some time, and then, suddenly, a tremendous laugh erupted from Mr Peters, extended painfully by the echo, and he said: “It looks like my Uncle Grayson”!

Annoyed, Friend began to attack his assistant’s sense of humour, but he was cut short by a magnificent, almost deafening voice which resounded within the cave…

Its tone was one of wisdom, understanding, grave seriousness and great experience- like the spirit and essence of a thousand Aristotles all rolled into one- and it said: “Who is this “Uncle Grayson?””  

The three men stopped sharply at the sound of the voice, and they gazed in wonder at the wise old sage of unearthly origin.

Mr Peters’ laughter had abruptly ended, and a mix of fear and astonishment had entered the features of his face.

After a pause, the voice came again, saying: “Do not fear me, humans! I am your friend, and you are my deliverers! Come, and we must speak!”

Cautiously, they approached the alien, with a degree of reverence and respect which all present must surely feel…

When they drew near to the centre of the cave (the alien was more than half of the height of the chamber, and its width more than half of its height, so that its presence demanded the attention of all those nearby) the entity began to speak again: “Your linguistics have discerned my language and it has been rendered to your English by a device which translates all languages known to your kind. I must congratulate you on its creation… It is impressive!”

“Er…Thank you!” said Friend, “We…We are most glad of its services. And now, as I understand it, your time is limited and we must make all haste towards our planet.”

“Alas! Yes, it is so… My strength is failing me… I am old- unfathomably old, in your Earth years… and I have grown weak from a lack of the nourishment your people call “thoughts”. I am told you will transport me in one of your “Cargo-Freighters” to the land you call Earth, and there I may feast upon your mental energies.”

“Yes…Yes, quite so,” Friend replied, “There you will be welcomed and received most hospitably by our kind, and you may of course feast as you desire upon our “mental energies”, provided your doing so does no harm or damage to our people.”

“Of course, I will not harm your people or their world,” insisted the Alien, “And I am most grateful for your deliverance!”

“I wonder… can you… eat our…thoughts…now?” Friend inquired, wondering if this was perhaps a polite question.

“No, I am not currently exercising my powers of feeding,” the alien responded, “to justify my doing so, I would need a far greater quantity of “thoughts” from a larger portion of your race in order to do so. In fact, I have not touched a single one of your minds in order to feed, and I look forward to doing so. Feeding is a special event and a great source of pleasure to my race, although, alas, finding suitable and willing races to provide our sustenance has never been easy!”  

“Have no fear!” Friend insisted in a kindly tone, “The good people of Earth are willing!”

The alien thanked Friend most gratefully, and then Captain Adams informed them that the empty cargo freighter was approaching the cave.

The roof of this particular cave lay open to the outside, and it was doubtless here that the alien had first landed- its method of space travel was as yet unexplained to the humans.

The alien explained that it was now approaching the time when it must rest, as its hours of repose commonly occurred between the Earth times of 6 A EH and 5 M EH, and that it would likely remain in sleep throughout the journey.

“That’s fine,” assured Friend, when you wake you will be able to feed and gather your strength.”

Again thanking them, the alien then slowly shut its single eye, which rested in the midst of a “face” which was otherwise featureless- its “mouth” seemed to reside in a location elsewhere on its body, or perhaps its method of generating “speech” did not require any physical orifice…

A mighty roar rose outside as the giant cargo freighter, equipped with upgraded engines and staff, came into position; and, opening the doors to its hold, it lifted the alien on board by way of a device common to lifters of heavy, living cargo in these modern times of great scientific and mechanical progress…

Friend marvelled at how calm and composed the alien remained, as it sank into and continued in sleep as the lifting process was carried out.

Finally, the weighty cargo doors closed and the freighter began a slow ascent from the planet’s surface, as it awaited the other vessels assigned to escort it on the journey to Earth.

Friend and Peters, after bidding Captain Adams farewell, re-boarded the transport vessel they had arrived in, having been informed their presence on the cargo freighter was not needed- though an audio-visual link with the alien’s compartment could be established with them should the need arise.

The journey was uneventful, and the creature seemed to sleep peacefully all the way; upon arrival at Earth, it was deposited from the freighter into its new home- a huge, metal complex, situated in an out-of-the-way location.

The creature did not require aesthetical beauty in its immediate surroundings, it had explained, as much of its time was spent in the lands of its mind, and all corporeal or material bodies were of secondary importance in its existence- save for the fact that it was often the thoughts emanating from intelligent corporeal beings that provided its sustenance…

After having been landed in its new home, Friend and Peters departed to their homes in order to sleep themselves, and they would visit the entity the next morning and welcome it formally to the planet Earth.

As the alien being could “feed” upon the thoughts of other beings from a great distance, it would begin its first “meal” upon its awakening in the early hours of the morning…

Mr Friend awoke- it was about 5.35 M EH, and, as he came too, he became conscious of a slight tingling in his head…

At first, he put it down to the long work of the previous days- then, as he grew more and more conscious, he began to wonder if this was perhaps the alien “feeding” upon his thoughts…

The thought of it alarmed him at first, and he began to fear that some harm might come of it; but, as time passed, he grew used to the feeling, hardly noticing it, and, just before 7.30 M EH, when he usually rose, he slipped back into a light slumber.

When he awoke minutes later he was somewhat annoyed at having to rise; however, duty called and he exited his bed with a sense of purpose and determination.

Mr Friend walked into his office at 9.30 M EH. His face was grim and, in his hand, he carried a letter which he was re-reading as he entered.

“Mr Friend!” Peters said as he rose from his chair behind his desk, “It’s most peculiar! For some time, I had this weird tingling in my head, but now…”

“It’s gone…” said Mr Friend, most gravely.

“Yes…” his assistant replied.

“I know. There is an explanation for this. I’m afraid there’s been… well, a tragedy…” (here Friend seemed saddened, but also curiously embarrassed and almost ashamed…) “Here, read this official statement from the Bureau… It came to me just half an hour ago…”

Mr Peters anxiously took the letter from his employers hand; he also handed him a cup of tea which, usually, would have upset Mr Friend as he preferred coffee, but today he accepted the erroneous beverage with a mere word of thanks…

Mr Peters read the letter…

From: The Bureau Of Intergalactic Relations

To: Friend, Mr, and those under his oversight

“Today, at precisely 8.44 M EH, the alien being recently brought from the planet Mindfal, tragically died… The cause, though not fully discernible to Earth’s medical science, was a lethal combination of malnutrition and stress/anxiety. Top medical professionals and scientists from around the world have been called upon to analyse the deceased creature’s body, in the hopes of understanding more fully its complex biology, function, and cause of death.

At precisely 6.07 M EH, the alien being “awoke” from a deep sleep, and, for a time, all seemed well. It communicated that it was preparing itself for “feeding”, and that this may take some time. At precisely 6.58 M EH, the creature suddenly began to groan and sway its head wildly from side to side, and it became apparent that something was wrong. Though questioned desperately, it was not until the time of 8.27 M EH, just minutes before its death, that the alien began to speak. Before then, it had continued its groaning and swaying in a most alarming manner, and with increasing intensity, until at 8.19 M EH, it seemed to be growing weaker, and a weird, yellow colour began to spread rapidly across its large, usually blue “skin”. Its head had sank wearily to the floor, though it still moaned in a disturbing fashion, and then, suddenly it spoke… The words it spoke are reported to us by Doctor Morgan, chief of the medical staff then present, and his words are quoted here exactly as they were spoken: “At about eight-thirty, the creature seemed to speak. At first, it was inaudible, but, as I drew closer, using one the observation “arms” surrounding the subject and enable us to travel about its person rapidly, I began to understand some its words. It was saying, over and over again, in a voice so different from that we had heard previously, a voice now weak, terrified, appalled, and also somehow pitying: “The pain! The pain! Greed! Lust! Hatred! The stupidity!” It said this, over and over… After a while, at nearly a quarter to nine, it abruptly desisted from speaking, and then, with an almighty sigh, collapsed limply on the floor. Its complex biological make-up being mostly beyond our medical grasp, we tried what little could be done to aid the creature, but, after some efforts, we pronounced it dead…”

This report and its contents are to be considered classified, and a report of the death of the creature has been prepared to be distributed to the press and media establishments. Needless to say, many of the details shown in this report have been omitted… It is regretful that this should have happened, but, as we see it, we are in no way to blame for this tragic death…”

Sincerely,

The Bureau Of Intergalactic Relations

The end

(Copyright Daniel Macintyre 12/06/2024)

(Copyright Daniel Macintyre protectmywork.com 12/06/2024)