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The Rocknauts Part III

They sat on the ground in the center of the Sea Of Tranquility, facing one another. The four of them sat cross-legged, meditating on recent events. Air-shells were swollen into one amoebic mass and they shared subdued conversation.

“Most seem to enjoy our presence.” Guitar spoke with a relaxed tone.

“Yes.” Drum added.

Bass took a deep breath, contemplating before exhaling with, “Their ‘leaders’ give in to fear and attack.”

“Their best defense is on the way here.” Singer began. “But even that is still nothing of consequence.” A cascade of wise nods gave silent reply.

“Maybe our next parry will open their eyes to the futility of their strength, and the benevolence of our intentions.” He stood up slowly and stretched the stupor from his muscles.

A large cluster of lights was growing in intensity and accelerating in an arc towards them. One took the lead and left the others far behind in haste.

“Dried star blood, I’m sure.” Guitar was up now, along with the others.

“Good fuel for our hyper-core reactors.” Drum added.

“One, two, one, two, three, four!” Singer gave the count.

Drum rolled all the way across his toms and they all launched into a chugging rhythm that seemed to say, “Bring it on, and on!” over and over. Regolith in the vacuum blasted outward from beneath each stage and raced away for the horizon. They lifted a few feet into the sharp sunlight.

Singer finally fell in with a proverbial chant. “Bring it on, and on! Ahh, bring it on, and on!” His breath between each sentence became a part of the mantra.

The lone warhead separated from its booster and accelerated quickly. From ten miles out, it was upon them in a few seconds. A cabal of telescopes on Earth and in orbit watched intently as a yellow-red flower of fire flared into a white, blinding flash. The tribal rumble from the visitors permeated the blast and the volume went infinite. Exotic matter degenerated into exotic energies that crisscrossed the lunar sea near the speed of light. House sized boulders lifted off the surface around the perimeter of the blast. Some gained orbit while others reached escape velocity. Jagged red rifts raced across a full third of the face of the moon and an easily visible pool of molten ‘moon’ glowed bright yellow once the flare of fusions’ ignition died away.

Every communications device around the earth crackled with an ominous portent. “Bring it on, and on, ahh!” The request repeated itself over and over. It was drenched in angry bravado and in an unchanging, monotonous key.

The rest of the missiles, thirty or so, separated their packages and sent them onto target. The second detonation flared up just as the first, but this time it was outshined by twenty nine more white hot outbursts. The yellow glow grew larger and brighter, bordering almost on white. More regolith and moon crust peeled away into space. Still, the chant sounded out from every listening device the human race had on surface, and in orbit.

With their best ‘fist’ expended, all the warmongers of earth could do was watch in horror. The glow began to fade to a dull red. It shrunk slowly, imperceptibly. Still the airwaves resounded with the visitors’ message. Governments could hardly agree on how to deal with one another, much less these aliens from the stars. How they came to an agreement on the use of hydrogen bombs will forever be a mystery.

Many people took the streets to peer up into the sky at the distorted face of the moon in anger, or fear. Even in broad daylight many fragments could be seen drifting away. Where they might be headed was anybody’s guess. As the molten bottom of the mare cooled to a dull red, four painfully bright lights shot away from the pummeled disc. They were coming back down to earth. The chant was getting louder.