The Alien History of Earth: Novaterra

By Thomas F. Clardy

Some people believe aliens exist.
History knows they do -
and you'll never believe who they are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312707962

Book preview

The Alien History of Earth: Novaterra

The Alien History of Earth: Novaterra

Thomas F. Clardy

Copyright  Thomas Clardy, 2014

All Rights Reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

ISBN: 978-1-312-70796-2

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously; any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For my Ty and Sam,

May their generation explore other worlds.

Introduction

This is a story that has taken thirty years to finally make it on paper.  All that time it has only existed as thoughts in my head and ideas scribbled in notebooks.  The main concepts for this story developed when I was a child.  While walking down the road to the barn to feed the farm animals, I would make up stories to entertain myself (I still do that).  I was stuck deep in the country and never really had close friends, except Doctor Who and his companions and the various crewmembers of the Starship Enterprise. 

My stories were my real friends.  My stories kept me company.  My stories entertained me. My stories helped me through rough times.  My stories saved me.  My stories gave me hope.

Later when I was older, I began to make notes and add details to the stories.  Separate stories eventually merged and added something new. Yet as the notebook filled, this story as a whole was never actually written down.

As I grew older, I started to concentrate more on my writing.  I would always work on writing something, but Novaterra had never made it to the page.  Childish adventures in space weren’t sophisticated enough for me.  Even when I was working on what I thought would be my first novel, it just didn’t occur to me that Novaterra was anything more than something that entertained me during times of boredom.  It was comfort food for my brain.

When I finally moved back to the country, I started to get more serious about writing.  My novel was reawakened and other stories got dusted off.  I published my first book of stories about the South, and then started to think about what my next project would be.  There was an almost finished novel that I had in front of me, but it just didn’t excite me at the time.  I started to dwell on the story from my childhood.  I decided to start actually writing it down for my nephews, Ty and Sam.  I would write a chapter and they would read it.  My mother would read it too.  It was great to have cheerleaders urging me forward –wanting the next chapter, the next line.  And so here we are after thirty years and I hope you enjoy it

Oh, any of you who read it and want to complain about the scientific accuracy or lack thereof, I must admit that I don’t really care.  I have to side with my hero, Samuel Clemens aka Mark Twain:

Never let facts get in the way of a good story.

--T.F. Clardy

Prologue

Hans Heidegger sat cozy in his little Alpine chateau.  He had just made himself a warm cup of fortified hot chocolate and a small pot of cheese fondue.  He clapped his hands together in anticipation of his little feast, and then grabbed a hunk of bread.  He settled his little meal on a small table near a window.  His fondue still bubbled from the heat.  He pulled up his chair to the small table and grabbed his binoculars.  He trained them on the curvy mountain road that stretched out below him, as he stirred his still piping hot chocolate.

The old highway had not been used much since the nearby ski lodge had closed, but out-of-date brochures still touted it as the fastest shortcut between Yoder and Saint-Maarten.  There had been talk about shutting the road down due to the extreme curves, but there was no other usable route to the many rental chateaux in the area.  Hans never traveled it himself – he had seen a multitude of wrecks over the years and didn’t trust others using the old road.  He was happy to just sit here and drink his hot chocolate while he watched others drive it.

This afternoon, he had not seen a single car.  He’d just have to eat his fondue simply to the sounds of the old phonograph playing in the background.

But he was wrong.  He heard something and searched for the source through his binoculars.  He saw a small, fast car racing down the curvy road.  It was taking the curves faster than it should – he couldn’t believe people would dare to drive that fast on this dangerous road. He zoomed in with his binoculars and could barely make out two people in the car.  He thought maybe it was a man and a woman. He waited for the car to rush down the Black Pass.  But the car never did.  He knew the car was traveling too fast to make that last extreme curve. He figured the car missed the curve and had plunged over the edge.  Yet, there wasn’t the usual billow of black smoke or an explosion, which on past occasions caused little ripples across the top of his hot chocolate.  He reached for his phone to call the police anyway.

While on the phone, he picked up his binoculars.  He explained the situation to the police and they put him on hold.  Hans adjusted his binoculars.  He searched again for signs of a wreck, but then he saw something.  He noticed the car was just hidden from view.  He also noticed two people standing at the roadside.    He zoomed in and they didn’t appear to be hurt or injured.  They walked down the road and were joined by two other figures.  Hans couldn’t see another vehicle of any kind; maybe it too was just out of view.   The four figures paused as if in conversation.  Hans thought they were fighting from the gestures they were making.  Hans also thought for a second he had even seen the fourth figure vanish into thin air.  Wait, he thought.  Had there been four figures in the first place?  No, there had to have been three.  His mind was playing tricks on him; people didn’t vanish into nothingness.  The three figures wandered down the roadside toward the car.  They walked out of sight.  The car slowly rolled off the side of the cliff down toward the lake below.  This time there was an explosion and lots of flames and black smoke.  Did they just go off the cliff in the car?  The police came back onto the line and asked him a couple questions then put him back on hold.  It was a few minutes before he saw the figures again.  He spotted them climbing up the side of the rocky roadway and they disappeared again.

Finally the police came onto the line stating they were sending someone out.  He hung up and looked back through his binoculars.  He saw a figure on the mountain, a woman, looking back at him through another pair of binoculars.  Hans dropped his binoculars onto his lap.  He picked them up, took a deep breath, and looked through them again very cautiously.  This time there was a vehicle of some sort sitting on an outcropping.  It was about as large as a van.  The figure holding the binoculars was helped by one of the others into a door on the side, then that person looked around and vanished inside the vehicle also.  The vehicle started to lift itself off from the outcropping.  After rising about three meters, lights flashed and it flew away quickly.

Hans sat there with his mouth gaping and eyes wide.  It must have been a helicopter rescuing some hikers or maybe the police had rescued someone.  He ran across various scenarios in his mind.  But yes, it had to be a helicopter.  Spaceships didn’t exist, right?

Chapter 1

The stars flashed in and out of view as Ty watched from the control deck of the spaceship.  He could feel the steady drone of the engine under his feet.  He smiled as he saw nebula and planets rush past the ship.  He was master of all he could survey beyond the viewscreen.  Then suddenly ---

Asteroid! he yelled, pushing against the seatbelt.  He sleepily looked around to orientate himself.  He wiped away a bit of saliva that had run down the corner of his mouth to his chin.  His gaze rested on the person sitting next to him in the backseat of the car, his twin sister, Ashley.

You are such a nerd, she said, punctuated with a soft laugh and the shaking of her head.  She opened her book and started back reading.

Are you okay? asked Miss Smith, looking back at him in her rearview mirror.

Yes, ma’am.  I just had a little nightmare, said Ty as he squirmed against the tight uncomfortable seatbelt.  He pulled it away from his chest and it snapped back.  He pushed his head into the seat and let out a soft sigh. He couldn’t stand having to be around Miss Smith.

Well, that’s understandable.  You and your sister have been through quite a lot over the last few months.  We’ll soon be at your uncle’s house.  You’ll be able to crawl into a big bed and really get a good rest.  Mr. Ingram says that this uncle has got a beautiful big house out here in the country.  I’m glad we could finally find him.  It will just be a great place for you two to have a nice rest and get yourselves together.  I know you two are completely worn out and tired.

Yes, ma’am, replied Ty out of habit, as he stared out the window as road signs flashed past him in the gray evening light.  He was just so tired of her.  She treated them like delicate little children, not the almost adults they were.  She fawned over them as if they were cute little rescue puppies.

Miss Smith smiled and reminded Ash to turn on her book light if she was going to keep reading.  Ty turned back to his sister as she clicked on the small light; she looked back at him and rolled her eyes.  They had spent quite a lot of time with her.  Well, at least, she wasn’t still asking them to express their feelings on their parent’s accident or asking them to play some word association game so she could gauge their emotional state.  Miss Smith was the new counselor at their boarding school and she had not been out of college long.  Everything she did was still done by the textbook and she didn’t really know anything about teenagers.  Ty and his sister had already read all the