I, Effing Feline, am not like Mr V’s nutty characters. I’ve never had any trouble “searching for God” or anything silly purrsuit like that. What can I say? Certainty is part of being a feline.
This week I have two messages from sponsors. Commercial #1: If you’re ‘socially distancing’ (which we cats invented) and bored out of your skull, Ed wants me to point out that one of his favorite sci fi roms, The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station, is currently available for free. You’ve got nothing to lose!
Commercial #2: Last week in The Solid Gold Aliens, we met met Major Rullitch, a man who hears voices in his head. In case you don’t realize it, that is not a good sign, especially for someone who has guns and is in charge of security.
Rullitch is an offworlder who doesn’t care for planet Jones, as we learn in this snippet. But he does like — even adore — the solid gold sloths that were recently discovered there.
Other human worlds glittered with electric lights, but aside from the pathetic hamlet of Offie Town at the foot of this mesa, Jones slumbered in a candlelit stupor. The uncivilized heathens in the Rift were beneath the notice of a gentleman and an officer; rumor said they slept wherever they happened to be when darkness fell, be it road, pigsty, or outhouse. He believed it, too, although he’d never ventured off Heaven’s Table, which housed the planet’s lone spaceport.
Rullitch ran both hands over the stubble on his shaved head and turned to the huge golden statue for strength and salvation. It sat upright, with its stubby tail acting as the third leg of a stool. In the open palm of its top-left hand it held a four-winged bird in an attitude of . . . something Hunger . . . supplication . . . love for a pet?
One side of the statue had been peeled to reveal golden muscles and golden bones and a golden stomach filled with half-digested, golden food. This was no work of art, but a once-live creature.
Transformation into gold, the old alchemists’ dream, was impossible, yet it had happened.
How? Scientists speculated, but Rullitch knew how — it was a miracle, proof that God existed.
Effing Feline here again. A sloth proves the existence of God? Ridiculous. This picture, not some dorky creature Ed made up, proves the existence of God!
The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?