Pollen-8
01/08/2001 . Source: Marion Kelt 

Short fiction from the pen of Marion Kelt.

Grand Vizier Xarg snorted and rubbed a scaly forward appendage across the lumpy plane that would pass for a forehead on a human. He turned and glared at his chief scientist Zorgl.

‘How in the universe can we come up with a cost-effective way of subduing this planet? I mean, just look at it, part solid, part liquid – even the cursed crust can’t make up its mind! Universal HQ has given us a very short timescale and low budget for this planetary conquest, and it is giving me a pain in the gnargles. These humans should be easy to conquer, their skin is so damn thin and revolting that I’m surprised that they don’t just go pop when you look at them!’

The chief scientist nodded sympathetically and grunted his agreement. He knew better than to say much when the Vizier was in this sort of a mood. Last ScalyFest Under engineer Zog had been roasted where he stood for cracking an unfortunate joke when the big chief had a hangover. Zorgl may have been unprepossessing but he learned fast.

‘Well, don’t just stand there twitching you miserable little scientist! You must have some ideas in your little hornless head! Spit them out man!’

Nervously the smaller of the dragon-like beings began to outline his idea. As he spoke, his voice stopped trembling and his confidence grew as he saw he had caught the imagination of his leader. Soon he was pacing animatedly around the chamber and flashing projections up onto the giant display screen. Hours later, he finished triumphantly and leaned back on his rear appendages giving his tail a little flick for emphasis.

‘Excellent work, Zorgl! Mutated allergic rhinitis! Cost-effective, lethal and, above all, sneaky. I like the way your mind works, son. Come and have a drink, the Deuchars are on me’

The Grand Vizier gave his Chief Scientist what he fondly imagined was a friendly little pat on the back and chortled. As Zorgl pulled himself free from where he was embedded in the far bulkhead, he began to worry. He chewed distractedly on his lower lip as he followed his leader along the wide corridor towards the Space Tavern.

After all, it was a masterly plan and could well be the making of his career. However, becoming too obvious was never a good idea, especially if it took away from the greater glory of the leader. People had nasty accidents in the airlocks that way. He put it firmly from his mind, and started to plan the launch of the attack in the morning.

* * *

Annie grabbed another tissue from the box and sneezed violently into it. She just couldn’t understand it, her hayfever had never been this bad before. Most summers only brought the odd sneeze and runny nose but this year had just been a nightmare. She mostly stayed indoors now, as going outside was just asking for trouble. Reaching for the remote control, she decided to distract herself by watching some TV.

Annie peered at the screen through watery eyes. On "News at Ten", Trevor McDonald was reporting a global epidemic of hayfever. Even countries with precious little vegetation were suffering. The screen flashed up pictures of sneezing, wheezing people of every hue and showed harassed staff in chemist’s shops selling out of antihistamines before they could restock their shelves. Well, at least I’m not alone, she thought grimly to herself as she filled yet another tissue.

Then she saw something that brought her up short. This report came from the north of England and showed a young girl sitting in a public park. The girl began to sniffle, then to sneeze violently. Soon she was gasping for breath and dribbling from her eyes and nose. Annie didn’t believe it was possible for anyone’s sneezing to get any worse, but it did. Horrified, she watched as the streaming mucus coming from the girl’s eyes and nose began to thicken and change colour.

That’s not snot, she thought to herself, that’s blood!

No sooner had Annie completed that thought than with one last mighty sneeze, the girl’s head exploded completely. Blood, brains and snot flew in all directions and Annie threw up into her wastebasket. The fact that the report came from close to home made the contents even more sinister.

When she could focus again, Trevor the newscaster was looking very serious indeed. He went on to report on the global hayfever emergency and the rush to find a cure. He followed this up with a report on the huge rise in stock prices in the biomedical sector. Annie groaned and reached for the tissue box yet again.

* * *

Grand Vizier Xarg grunted happily and scratched his ribs contentedly. ‘Brilliant work Zorgl! This is all going swimmingly. Galactic HQ is very impressed with our strategy and cost-efficient operation. Keep this up and you could be promoted to Under Vizier first class! Right, to the bar, more Deuchars and I’m paying!’

Zorgl trotted obediently behind his leader. The scales on his brow were so deeply furrowed that his forehead looked like a small landslide. What was all this about our strategy all of a sudden? As far as he was aware, it had all been his idea. Oh well, he was not going to quibble at this stage, time enough for that if they pulled off a coup. Also, if it all went gorgl-shaped, then there were more to share the blame.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on Earth things were not looking so bright. Health services were collapsing under the strain of the global epidemic. Chemists shops were being looted everywhere and the surviving population was on the verge of revolution. Annie had given up all attempts to leave her flat and was sitting in a darkened room staring blearily at the TV.

She frowned as her favourite soap was interrupted by an urgent news flash. Trevor appeared again, looking very serious as he announced that the following message would be globally broadcast on all channels. The screen dissolved into static, then refocused into a painfully bright image. Annie blinked rapidly, then rubbed her aching eyes.

That can’t be right, she thought, it looks like a cartoon dinosaur from a kiddie programme.

‘Greetings humans!’ boomed a deep voice. ‘My name is Grand Vizier Xarg and I am leader of the invasion force from your neighbouring galaxy. I am speaking to you from our orbiting flagship, which we keep concealed using our highly advanced cloaking device for obvious reasons. You humans have recently been afflicted with a virulent plague of hayfever, which we have genetically engineered and released into your atmosphere. Only we have the antidote and unless the governments of your planet surrender control to our invasion force, we will allow our disease to take its course on your puny human bodies! You have only a short time to decide, I urge you to take the only sensible course of action. Don’t call us, we’ll call you – perhaps sooner than you think!’

The screen flicked back to the soap.

* * *

‘Well’ barked the Grand Vizier ‘I think that went very well, don’t you?’

‘Hmmm’ murmured Zorgl, who knew a rhetorical question when he heard it. He was not at all convinced that the broadcast had gone as well as planned. He had a sneaking suspicion that his leader had failed to strike the required terror into the earthlings. These cursed humans were unpredictable at best and plain pig-headed at worst.

‘All we can do now is play a waiting game, Sir. We should give it a day or two, then broadcast again’.

* * *

Annie spluttered in disbelief! How could that nice Trevor take part in such an obvious hoax? That creature was the worst special effects creation that she had ever seen. It talked with the voice of a forty a day smoker and told lousy jokes! Really, these media types were just getting out of hand!

All over the world, the Grand Vizier’s unfortunate appearance was having the same effect on national leaders. The UN was rocked with laughter and the Prime Minister was unable to issue a statement because he was convulsed with mirth. Annie called her one surviving relative to see what she thought about the comedy aliens.

‘Hi, Auntie Jean. How are you? Did you see the silly aliens on the telly?’

‘Yes dear, they were very good. I nearly laughed till I cried. Do you think it’s those funny men from "Spitting Image"?’

‘I don’t know but it certainly cheered me up. I’ve been feeling right miserable with this bad hayfever, though I don’t believe that aliens are responsible. How are you?’

‘I’m fine dear. Whenever I feel an attack of the sniffles coming on, I just use the remedy that my Granny taught me.’

‘Right enough, you sound fine, not a sniffle or sneeze out of you! How do you cope?’

‘It’s an old wives cure, you just use salt water for an eyewash and drop a little bit up your nose!’

‘Away! Is it that simple? I’ll give it a go. It will certainly be easier than buying all this expensive junk! See you soon, take care and watch out for the aliens!’

Sneezing, Annie rushed through to her small kitchen and made up a batch of salt water. She really didn’t hold out much hope of a cure but at this stage of the game she was willing to try anything. Over the next few hours, she diligently dropped the salt water into her eyes and nose, and to her great surprise, began to feel some improvement.

* * *

‘Oh dear’ fretted Chief Scientist Zorgl. He stared glumly into his ViewScope and monitored the media broadcasts from Earth. He swished his pointy tail in agitation. How was he going to break this to his leader and survive? The humans were laughing at him. Xarg, the most fearsome warrior in the Galaxy. This would never do.

How could they confuse him with a cartoon character? mused Zorgl. He was altogether uglier.

Luckily, he was not the only one who has been watching the ViewScope. Xarg was just vain enough to wonder how his new audience had reacted.

He was not a happy alien. The door to the science lab few open with a mighty crash and embedded itself in the bulkhead. Really, thought Zorgl, these exhibitions of bad temper were going to cost a fortune in new bulkheads. Galactic command would not be at all pleased. However, that was the least of his troubles. He nervously looked up into the irate face of his leader.

‘Right!’ thundered Xarg ‘Let’s teach these damned humans what a scary alien looks like! No more soft-soap for them! Crank up the focus to maximum, I want them to see every pore and battle scar on my fearsome visage! Adjust the Universal Translator down an octave and add maximum echo. And as for my endearing way with words, well, that will be a thing of the past!’ He snorted and stamped off towards the projection suite.

* * *

By the next day, Annie was able to focus clearly on her TV screen and felt confident enough to walk about without her usual wad of soggy tissues clutched in her hand. This was just as well, as once again her favourite programmes were interrupted by another newsflash.

For the first time, she felt an inkling of doubt, especially as she was watching a different channel with a completely different news crew. Quickly, she grabbed the remote and flipped across four channels. With a sinking feeling, she realised that not all the newscasters in the world could be in on the hoax. This had to be real.

The screen darkened, then brightened to reveal that alien again. This time he looked different, his skin was all pockmarked and had little bristles sticking out of it. It looked altogether too leathery and sweaty to be a fake. He glared into the camera and spoke.

‘Humans! It has come to my attention that you are not taking the threat of global domination seriously. I am not a plastic construct, or a character from your accursed entertainmentvision! I am an extremely angry emissary from another galaxy! To prove this to you, my flagship will now release another batch of our hayfever virus into your atmosphere! Suffer earthlings! Feel my wrath!’

On this note the screen went blank. Annie felt really worried. The creature now looked every inch a scary alien, not only scary but extremely miffed. She stifled another sneeze and felt surprise. This was the first hayfever symptom she had felt since adopting Auntie Jean’s remedy. She reached for her trusty jar of salt water and stated paying attention to the six o’clock news. The alien was as good as his word. The TV showed even more extreme cases of hayfever with people exploding all over the planet.

This was getting a bit serious. The report went on to say that government scientists had found no cure, but that anyone who could help should phone the number below. Annie grabbed a pen and scribbled the number down on a handy paper hanky. She really couldn’t believe that the government scientists had not heard of Auntie Jean’s hayfever remedy, but decided that it would do no harm to remind them. After all, it is surprising what highly educated people can be trained to forget.

* * *

Back in orbit, the Grand Vizier leaned back in his command chair and mentally started planning his victory celebrations. There was nothing dearer to an old galactic warrior’s heart than a damned good blowout to celebrate the domination of another planet. He happily scratched his pointy horns as he composed the wording of his communication to galactic HQ, even recommending Zorgl for a command of his own. His grin grew broad as he stared at the ViewScope and waited for the deadline for surrender.

* * *

The inhabitants of Earth were close to a global panic, unaware that the headquarters of the United Nations was a hive of feverish activity. The word’s finest scientists had been mobilised to come up with a remedy for the mutant hayfever virus and were locked away with the strict orders not to emerge till every possible cure had been thoroughly investigated.

A sorry collection of hollow-eyed, exhausted beings stared balefully at eachother as they reached the last potential cure on their list. Their already strained nerves finally cracked as they listened to the delegate from Aberdeen present his country’s suggestion.

Strong men wept with frustration and geniuses of every hue cried into their keyboards. However after their collective tantrum, they duly began to research Auntie Jean’s salt-water cure. With the combined intellect of the world’s best scientists, it took very little time to confirm that they had found a cheap and simple remedy.

* * *

Xarg just couldn’t believe it. He was poised to accept the surrender and step into his role as benevolent despot and this had to happen. Some grinning human from one of their most insignificant landmasses was informing him that his mutant space virus had been rendered harmless and there would be no surrender. However, he was interested in a trade agreement and would they be interested in establishing an electronics plant in Scotland?

Never before had Zorgl seen his leader look so fearsome. He eyes were mere slits in his scaly skin and had turned the red colour that signalled certain death for anyone who crossed him. He leapt into action when the chief thundered out the command to jettison the bulk tanks of the virus into the earth’s atmosphere.

They both stared at the ViewScope waiting for the destruction that would surely follow. They had a long wait. All they could see were smiling happy earthlings and their grinning leader who was determined to get them to establish some type of manufacturing facility on his planet.

Xarg hung his head in defeat. The most fearsome galactic warship in the universe stood poised for destruction and all these humans could do was grin and continue life as normal. How could they possibly have stumbled on the one weakness of the formula? How could they know that the mineral known as salt was unknown in their home galaxy?

‘Humans’ he boomed into the broadcast unit ‘I bow to your superior skills in the art of warfare. Our empire is bound by our rules of war, and so we will leave your planet well alone. Our one request is that you show us the mighty warrior who has vanquished us.’

The being known as Blair stood to one side to reveal Earth’s mighty champion. Auntie Jean smiled nicely into the camera for the aliens. Deep in space a fearsome warrior cried hot acid tears onto his command unit and headed for home.

* * *

Somewhere, far, far away, beyond our wildest imaginings, stands the grand universal war museum. Displayed as full-size holostatues are the fiercest and most dangerous beings in the galaxy. In pride of place stands a small unprepossessing figure, dressed in a tweedy overcoat and sensible shoes. The plaque reads:

Auntie Jean.

This is the most dangerous being in the known universe.

Never approach its home planet, Earth.

End