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Wall Nash: Towards Destiny
Wall Nash: Towards Destiny
Wall Nash: Towards Destiny
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Wall Nash: Towards Destiny

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From the very first lines of this account, it seems fair to note, with all due respect to our Emegean race, that earthlings are really quite amusing creatures by nature. Oddly enough, but it often happens with them, their view of the genuineness of what is taking place is unexpectedly jumbled up with imaginary prejudice. I have witnessed this by the caprice of chance, having found myself on their planet through the decree of fate. Their planet has the local name Earth. I should note that it appears on the Emegean astronomical maps as the planet Goteo, located somewhere on the outskirts of the galaxy in the system Yellow Helion at a distance of forty-four light-years from Emegea. I do not know exactly when the planet was first inscribed on Emegean astronomical maps, but I can definitely declare that this system is inhabited by humanoids of a human type, and they are even quite similar to our race with only a slight exception in their mentality and their conception of modern exact sciences. Believe me, we know that our intelligence spacecrafts have already circumnavigated a sufficient tract of the universe numbering millions of light-years of vast space, the study of which has been continuing for several hundred thousand years, and that our battle fleet is the most powerful in the present time, having conquered hundreds or maybe thousands of other worlds in our entire native galaxy. But none of these worlds had the remotest concept of the lifestyle that I encountered here on Goteo. Before my arrival there, I hadnt expected that in this sector of the universe there would be a certain planet that is inhabited by human beings. But malevolent fate has already relieved me of this delusion.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 8, 2013
ISBN9781481786232
Wall Nash: Towards Destiny

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    Wall Nash - Vlad Fedoseev

    WALL

    NASH

    SKU-000623526_TEXT.pdf

    Towards Destiny

    VLAD FEDOSEEV

    ah_log.jpg

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2013 by Vlad Fedoseev. All rights reserved.

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

    Published by AuthorHouse 03/04/2013

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-8622-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-8623-2 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

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

    CONTENTS

    PREFACE

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    CHAPTER 12

    CHAPTER 13

    CHAPTER 14

    CHAPTER 15

    CHAPTER 16

    CHAPTER 17

    CHAPTER 18

    CHAPTER 19

    CHAPTER 20

    CHAPTER 21

    CHAPTER 22

    CHAPTER 23

    CHAPTER 24

    CHAPTER 25

    CHAPTER 26

    CHAPTER 27

    CHAPTER 28

    CHAPTER 29

    CHAPTER 30

    PREFACE

    F rom the very first lines of this account it seems fair to note, with all due respect to our Emegean race, that earthlings are really quite amusing creatures by nature. Oddly enough, but it often happens with them, their view of the genuineness of what is taking place is unexpectedly jumbled up with imaginary prejudice. I have witnessed this by the caprice of chance, having found myself on their planet through the decree of fate. Their planet has the local name Earth. I should note that it appears on the Emegean astronomical maps as the planet Goteo located somewhere on the outskirts of the galaxy in the system Yellow Helion at a distance of forty-four light years from Emegea. I do not know exactly when the planet was first inscribed on Emegean astronomical maps but I can definitely declare that this system is inhabited by humanoids of a human type and they are even quite similar to our race with only a slight exception in their mentality and their conception of modern exact sciences. Believe me, we know that our intelligence spacecrafts have already circumnavigated a sufficient tract of the universe numbering millions of light years of vast space, the study of which has been continuing for several hundred thousand years, and that our battle fleet is the most powerful in the present time, having conquered hundreds or maybe thousands of other worlds in our entire native galaxy. But none of these worlds had the remotest concept of the life style that I encountered here on Goteo. Before my arrival there I hadn’t expected that in this sector of the universe there would be a certain planet that is inhabited by human beings. But malevolent fate has already relieved me of this delusion.

    I must confess that I will have to use all my skills in the literary art for writing this text and one way or another I will be somewhat limited in its creation. Because there are no terms and concepts in Earth languages by which I could describe some details and phenomena that occur on the territory of Emegea or, say, or describe what happens when a space shuttle travels through space with superluminal velocity. So please accept my job as a work created in the language of the local residents and use it generally for entertaining reading rather than to find out the naked facts about my life or any other technical data. As I have just set up as a man of letters, I, however, betake myself to the old traditions of the profession and using the traditional method of writing I let you know in advance that any events or characters that you will encounter while reading this work were created by me idling away my time. They are just a stretch of uncontrollable imagination of a citizen of extraterrestrial origin and therefore any matches (particularly those relating to events on Earth) and the resemblance to any real people or circumstances are absolutely accidental.

    As I said above, earthlings are in fact funny and able to observe and see objective reality as it is, their sciences have gained them valuable experience but the reason why I am really amazed is their diligence and thoroughness in denial of what is actually a dry fact. Their scientists try to bite off more than they can chew and they are in a strong bewilderment why they can’t succeed. And the people themselves, so-called native citizens of Earth, for some reason, are crazed about the consumption of certain chemicals that affect their minds in a useful way as they think. Their beliefs in the properties of so-called high-proof spirits or drugs clearly contradict objective scientific concepts. For no primitive population of any backward planet, known in Emegea scientific circles, would condemn itself so wildly to such oppression and slavery.

    I still take into account the fact that at this moment in my life and activity on so-called Earth I still have some lingering hope that some of the astrоnauts from the Military Academy of the Emegea space fleet will wander here randomly when performing training flights and drop into my place for a cup of tea, having deciphered my rescue beacon signal, which I fixed in the mountain system with the local name Ural Mountain Range. In addition, if this book (and I am convinced that space pioneers move in a mysterious way) finds its way onto Emegean tables, I want to warn you that this work is meant only for Earthlings and cannot be used as a report on my final mission which ended in fate’s joke of bringing me to this planet.

    If here on Earth I am lucky and this story is published, it would be likely done only in order to shame the beggar-alien and point him to his failure in the area of Earth’s art, allowing the reader to contemplate more appropriate and vital issues in the field of popular terrestrial creative endeavour. Although, to be a bit conservative, it is possible to add that Earth is a pretty lovely and beautiful planet and that the creatures living here are pretty amusing, but I just have fallen under the impression that people do not appreciate this and do everything possible to contaminate and destroy it in the quickest way, as my reports on samples of water, air and soil in separately chosen plots evidence. Now I can only stay here and enjoy the quiet life that is so alien to the military intelligence officer of special forces of external defense of the Emegean Empire, although life on this planet cannot be called quiet, on the contrary sometimes it’s very dangerous even for an old salted officer of the Emegean special forces who has already observed death at close quarters. You certainly wouldn’t believe me and perhaps would roar with laughter at the following but if we tell someone here that you came from distant stars and want to help Earthlings to implement some techniques which could improve the state of their planet, then you will be sent for examination and given a diagnosis directing psychiatric treatment, and this, as you may have guessed, is very dangerous for your health.

    For this reason and to avoid any possible troubles during my stay here and also to distance myself from any of the wild guesses of Earthlings about alien civilizations, I want to note that the story about my arrival here is the phantom of my imagination and does not constitute an authorized-formal statement that the planet Emegea exists. This fact cannot and should not be subjected to any doubt on the reader’s part. For this concept is the only reasonable and consistent point of view of any self-respecting Earthling. Do not ask me about any further meaning in the story. I think reading will be more helpful for you now than my idle chatter.

    CHAPTER 1

    M y name is Wall Nash. Not so long ago I served in the army in the position of commanding officer of a special unit of the foreign intelligence of His Majesty’s Emegean space fleet. My life did not differ from the ordinary life of a special forces officer and I was rarely in a quiet inactive mode, since our empire, with the consistent intention of expansion, conducted continuous military actions with any enemy who interfered with our plans and the plans of His Majesty. The progressive expansion of the spheres of influence of our empire, consisting of 27 planets, occasionally requires the power of pinpoint impact on the planets of our enemies and, take my word for it, there has been no lack of work for special forces soldiers in our empire since the beginning of the reign of His Majesty Gottary the Great—God bless his Majesty with everlasting health! I served until I got the rank of captain of a special operations detachment, consisting of 32 soldiers—they were all like brothers to me, even though our work doesn’t suppose us to have brothers and friends and especially any family, since the degree of risk for a special operations detachment soldier is approximately 50 times greater than the degree of risk of an average citizen of Emegea. Friendship is a debatable concept here, because one constantly faces a friend’s loss and this bereavement weakens the cold and calculating qualities of mind necessary for a combat officer of His Majesty. In general there is a clear rule in military life—if you choose the fate of a soldier, you’d better be one up to the end, otherwise you are not worth a button, especially during battle where sometimes you have to shoot your critically wounded friend to save him and his body, already tortured by enemy bullets, from a slow and agonizing death.

    I could have easily predicted that I would die in yet another brawl between the empires as each special forces soldier is ready to sacrifice his life, especially in war time. Or for that matter I could have foreseen myself retiring with honors, medals and wounds in the proper manner for a veteran of the Third Army of His Majesty. But I would never have believed it if some sage had foretold me that I would while away my mad fate on some God-forsaken planet, having no opportunity to go back into formation and to breathe fresh air of my native Emegea. But sometimes fate plays a game and this time my humble person is at stake. Now I can only attest to the fact that I was chained to a kind of planetary system with one sun named Helion. It consists of several planets which have not been conquered. I am on one of inhabited planets the local name of which is Earth. While living here I occasionally find myself ruminating on the fact that I am no longer a citizen of the Emegean Empire but a rightful resident of Goteo, that is Earth—as it is called by local residents. My fate has changed by 180 degrees, and I probably did not appear here by chance, driven by a staff of gods-explorers of space, as now to survive I do not have to shoot and blow up or do what I’m used to doing but on quite the reverse! Now I have to save these humanoids—earthlings, and believe me, I am not driven by any power of altruism and salvation I’m not used to this way of thinking, but the level of necessity compels me to act this way because my skin will perish with theirs if I continue to stand still. But in order not to confuse you with the wrong grade of incorrectly laid out priorities I think I’ll try to tell you everything from the very beginning, although I do not know how this all started and who is the cause of my imprisonment on this planet. But some data has not eluded my professional instinct, which has never let me down. I guess everything started the following way…

    CHAPTER 2

    T he mighty planet of Emegea is majestic and rules with its royal power rooted in the ancestry of remote ages, peacefully contemplating its daily living in the rays of the double sun. The governmental town that has spread out on mountain ranges was breathing in its every day routine in the purple and red crowns of the royal parks. Robotic patrol probes of government security police hovered in a smooth and whirling motion above the yellow and green horizon. The cars of the Royal External Communications Department were prowling along a wide road leading to the governmental city. On the vast space, which was the airfield, aeromobiles took off and landed every minute. The aeromobiles had government emblems in pyramid form on the boarding sides symbolizing the pyramidal outline of the city of the Emegean Empire and all twenty-seven planets of the Dominion.

    The administrative buildings spread out around the vast space at the foot of the hills, near to which, next to an express shuttle, there was a man in the purple-gray suit of the government postal service. Well, what other planet can be compared with the power of Emegea? It is unlikely that such a planet exists in the universe,—the man near the shuttle was thinking. He was enjoying the sights and remained lost in thoughts waiting for another post car. Who wants to fight the Empire, which ruthlessly sweeps out of its path any race which appeared to be in hostile territory because of sinister fate? Emegea doesn’t forgive enemies its losses.

    The rising humming of flying machine led him out of his thoughts and made him look in the direction where a courier vessel resembling a dome was slowly approaching The landing noise of engines turned to a whistling howl, and soon the plane awkwardly hurled itself down on the blue area of the landing field.

    The door stitched with armor slowly snapped open with a fixing lock and the strange figure of the pilot in the green suit of the department of the Army of His Majesty appeared from the hatch. His face hidden under a flight helmet, radiated the cold conservative urgency of his arrival.

    Wow! the courier waved to him. In my entire career this is the first time I have seen the Royal Mail being delivered by a military pilot.

    We have no time for discussion, the pilot said dryly. This message is beyond all urgency and importance. Stamp with a gold seal undelayable, too high priority.

    Having changed his ironic satisfied face, the courier turned to the right side of his shuttle, and pulled out a container from the hands of the pilot in silence, stretching out the metal plate to him. Sign your signature, he told briefly the pilot.

    Automatically the pilot put his initials in the appropriate column and gave the board back to the courier.

    This is from the system Telot, the pilot said.

    And what about us, are we conducting military operations in this sector? Who sent this?

    The head of foreign intelligence. These data are unique. In order to comply with full secrecy we did not send the information by governmental channels. This must be delivered immediately.

    Don’t worry, I was warned about it, the courier said, already closing the door of his shuttle. "I’ve seen such a label only once in my life when the Bolfly race attacked Emegea.

    His shuttle took off, immediately gathering speed and proper altitude, heading to the governmental city. The aircraft flew with such speed that the pilot who brought the special envelope was watching it from the start with conviction that it was about to crash.

    The pilot of the courier car approached the governmental apartments almost immediately. The white city of domes and pyramids, looming up right in front of his eyes, was shining lazily on all sides bathing in the rays of the double sun. Pyramid-shaped staircases, vast semi-circular areas near the buildings drew the eye with huge statues painted in pale colors. These mega-people were surrounded on all sides with pyramidal fountains and flower gardens. A sparkling round plot of land displayed a red X sign to indicate the direction of space for landing. The inscription on it ran: The Residence of His Majesty.

    The maroon landing site was free. Aeromobiles and Royal Department limousines had been dragged aside, making it possible for the courier shuttle to land easily. It seemed that all the nearby area was covered by an internal police division and the royal palace security guard. Sitting in his flight deck the courier initially took this with some kind of indifference but the steady gazes were like the barrels of a 500 kilovolt raygun. These heavily armed men forced the royal postal service representative to return to the present time.

    Space demons! exclaimed the guard. Where have you been? You have been already sent by the escort vehicle! In the name of all the devils get a move on! The Supreme Ruler raves and storms while waiting for you!

    Indicating like a pointer with his gleaming electro-dagger the transparent dome of the administration building, he shouted again almost in the face of the courier: Hurry up on that ladder! Security guard, convey him, and fast!

    Two severe officers in the uniform of internal police appeared next to the courier.

    Run behind us, one of them muttered as he ran.

    Thank you, the courier said while showing a clean pair of heels. The smell of ozone from

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