Attack of the Rockoids Read online

  “The father-son writing team of Gene and Grayson Steinberg have written a marvelous, fast paced story of interstellar warfare and

  star-crossed love. The battle scenes are so descriptive, you can see the space ships explode and be consumed by gigantic balls of flame…Fans of Star Wars and Star Trek will enjoy this story and look forward to many more adventures of Ray and Zanther.”

  Brenda Gill, Sime~Gen, Inc.

  (science fiction Web site)

  “Though filled with scenes of action, heroism, intergalactic political intrigue and high drama, the soul of Attack of the Rockoids lies in its heart and passion for building a convincing tale of a love that spans the galaxy. A thrilling story!”

  Robert Simpson, former Star Wars

  and Indiana Jones fiction editor

  “If you like Golden Age Science Fiction then you need to grab a copy of this book!”

  Teresa Roebuck, Just Can’t Resist

  (book review Web site)

  He Sees Her in His Dreams!

  What inspires us?

  Where do we get the ideas for a new invention, a novel, or a hot-selling computer game?

  Ray Perkins, military drop-out, lives a reclusive life in a Northern California cottage. He writes computer games that have been praised worldwide, and have become best-sellers. But he has never told anyone but his very few closest friends the source of his inspiration for those stories: his dreams.

  Almost every night since he was a victim of a strange accident during a secret military mission in the Middle East, he has had those dreams. Horrible dreams. Of spaceships and bloody battles in outer space above a far-off planet.

  And then there is she!

  Her sad-eyed, beautiful face and figure dominates those dreams. She seems to call him, beckoning him. Two lost souls searching desperately for each other.

  One day a chance glance at a small newspaper story about rumors of alien landings in Nevada strikes a nerve, that maybe there’s a kernel of truth behind those frightening dreams. So Perkins sets

  off on a foolhardy mission to find the truth. And it is a terri-

  ble truth indeed, a truth that spans time and space. In our

  future, over 200 years from now, the alien woman of his dreams really exists.

  And she, too, has dreams, dreams about him.

  But it’s not just a story of two would-be lovers trying desperately to find each other. It is a story of imminent danger and a threat to our way of life, for this woman is also the commander of a huge armada of spaceships that are coming here to destroy the Earth!

  Will Ray Perkins’ impossible journey in search of his one true love and the terrifying truth behind the dreams that obsess him come to a sad, tragic fate?

  Attack of the Rockoids is not just the story of one man’s incredible search for the meaning of his own life. It is an exciting, spell-binding story of high adventure in the grand science fiction tradition.

  The Memoirs of

  Emperor Velzanar

  Volume One:

  Attack of the Rockoids

  By Gene Steinberg and Grayson Steinberg

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  ATTACK OF THE ROCKOIDS

  Copyright © 2002, 2012 by Gene Steinberg & Grayson Steinberg

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Edited by Karen L. MacLeod

  Cover art by Michael Cox (www.michaelcox.com)

  Published by

  Making The Impossible, Inc.

  14747 North Northsight Boulevard

  Suite 111-168

  Scottsdale, AZ 85260

  (877) 405-3185

  Fax: (480) 661-8009

  and

  Toad Hall Press

  Laceyville, PA

  Email: [email protected]

  ISBN: 1-893407-07-1

  Seventh printing: June 2012

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedications

  I’d like to pay special thanks to my “muse”

  (she knows who she is) for always helping me find

  the right things to say and the means to say it.

  —Gene Steinberg

  To my mom, who taught me that miracles are possible.

  —Grayson Steinberg

  About this Book:

  It all started as a game played by father and son.

  And then it became an idea for a story.

  And a novel.

  And then a full-blown series of magical, mystical adventures.

  The book you hold in your hands is just the beginning of a great journey. There is much more to come.

  Please let us know what you think about this first episode of the Rockoids saga.

  Send your e-mail to [email protected].

  Or visit us on the World Wide Web at www.rockoids.com.

  Gene Steinberg

  Grayson Steinberg

  June 2012

  Chapter 1

  There are moments in history when destiny and chance intertwine to alter the face of the universe forever. These are times when an action, a word, a movement, is the very catalyst for an entire series of events difficult to stop once set into motion.

  No one can ever tell when such moments are about to occur. They simply happen, where the right circumstances are in place at the right time. Only then does the unstoppable avalanche begin. Whether the fall of the Roman Empire or the outbreak of the Second World War on Earth, a rush of events converged as one significant incident transformed all that subsequently came to pass.

  In the recent past, the unfathomable hand of fate struck yet again, this time altering history on a galactic level in a way no one would ever realize for years to come and completely changing the lives of every intelligent being, including two completely unrelated individuals, separated by a wide gulf of space and time, who quickly found themselves at the very center of the crisis.

  And that was only the beginning of the story…

  Volume One, The Memoirs of Emperor Velzanar

  * * *

  In the blackness of space, thousands of light years from Earth, the eternal calm was rudely disturbed as two opposing fleets of spaceships approached each other thousands of kilometers above a planet of huge cities and gorgeous landscapes.

  Beneath the armadas, millions of beings went through their daily routines, oblivious to the threat from space that would change their lives forever. Royal guests were present on that scenic world, on a well-deserved vacation, engrossed in planning a royal pageant—so much work, so little time.

  On one of the ships, the situation was especially tense.

  “We can’t do this, sir!” protested one of the senior officers. “By firing on the alien ships, we violate one of our most sacred edicts. It could be considered grounds for a court martial!”

  The expansive flagship’s bridge exhibited an ocean of modern technology and industrialized architecture, rectangular shaped, with a vaulted ceiling, and a huge flat-paneled video display in front. Brightly lit control panels lined each side. The huge craft’s navigators were seated in a single row at the center.

  The onlookers were stunned at the severity of the argument.

  The commander’s steel blue eyes narrowed. Though their leader’s face remained couched in shadow, the crew could sense its dark, ominous look. The voice was husky, battle-worn. “If we do not fire, they will destroy us. Would you risk genocide? How dare you even suggest…”

  “Sir, you’re not listening…”

  “That’s enough! If you cont
inue with this insubordination, I will remove you from the bridge and throw you into the brig. Is that clear?”

  Sweat poured down the officer’s face. His eyes widened, and his face twitched nervously. After tense seconds ticked by, he responded with almost no expression at all, “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent, I’m glad you see it my way,” the commander said with the hint of a sneer.

  The immense vessel moved slowly, deliberately, to the head of

  the fleet, and closed in on what appeared to be the enemy flagship. Without a sideways glance, the command was given in a loud, imperious voice, “Weapons officer, target the primary enemy ship and fire!”

  The officer, nervous for a second, nodded and complied with the order, tears streaming down her face. She could barely contain her fears about the consequences of her actions.

  In seconds, lasers of bright green and yellow shot forth, hitting their targets relentlessly. Explosions began to dot the space between the great warships, illuminating evidence of mounting casualties.

  Fighter craft tried desperately to destroy the weapons batteries on massive, oval shaped vessels, but their impotent, ineffective firepower only made their enemies pause momentarily. The blasts simply rebounded off the large craft’s powerful shields and struck the fighters instead.

  In this battle, it was difficult to separate the enemy from the defenders. One moment images would be vivid and intense, becoming vague, shimmering, as if viewed from a pool of water.

  Suddenly the oval craft resumed fire with even greater intensity. The individual beams from the laser guns of the ship coalesced into a single, immense blast aimed straight at an enemy cruiser. The crew of the warship struggled desperately to prepare their escape pods for evacuation, but it was too late. Within seconds, a huge explosion engulfed the cruiser, and thousands of metal fragments spun wildly off into space.

  The crew of a nearby cruiser, witnessing the destruction of their comrades, felt angered and frustrated at the same time. The tide of this battle had to be turned quickly. Fighters were immediately deployed to stage another attack on the impregnable laser guns, in the vain hope they would inflict some damage before any more of their ships were destroyed.

  As the enemy fighters approached the deadly oval fortress, hundreds of fighters emerged from several openings within the craft. Enemy ships were outnumbered and within minutes, most of them erupted in dazzling fireworks of fire and smoke, the death cries silent in the infinite depths of space.

  On the surface of the planet below, huge balls of smoke and fire filled the night sky as the battle continued, bearing mute testimony to the -conflict.

  Millions of frightened inhabitants fled to protective shelters; panic-stricken females, witnessing the destruction that rained down upon them from space, sought to protect their whimpering offspring—to no avail. The planet’s death toll mounted as a result of the destructive power wrought by the horrible rain of death, the terrible bombs and intense, burning lasers. Debris from the battle above poured down without passion or prejudice. Hundreds…thousands…millions of beings perished in the wake of the onslaught. For endless moments, their death cries seemed frozen in time, as if the universe itself was about to explode.

  Rather than accept the succor offered by the planetary governor’s palace guards, the Emperor and Empress chose to stand beside their fellow beings so they could all confront their fates as one; silently, bravely.

  As the piercing wail of their death cries sounded across the small planet where the great battle raged overhead, on a world thousands of light-years away, a female with haunting violet eyes, delicate face—one seemingly crafted by the galaxy’s greatest sculptor—and an exquisite athletic figure, slept soundly in her bedroom.

  Her bedclothes consisted of a dark blue, shimmering tunic bearing an insignia on the shoulder: a bird-like creature with wings outstretched, surrounded by a large circle.

  At first, her slumber was not the least bit disturbed by the unfolding tragedy in that far-off star system. Yet, as wave after wave of sadness and pain swept over her, images of fire, destruction, and death entered her mind. She sensed the agony of all those who died at the hands of the ruthless alien murderers. She could barely contain herself; the agony was so intense her whole body shook. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

  Just as she thought the awesome, terrible pain was about to subside, the agony grew even worse as she sensed the death of those closest to her, the final cries uttered by the royal family of her people…her parents. Her heart felt as if it was bursting and melting away into nothingness. Her entire body seemed to be on the verge of collapse.

  Suddenly, she opened her eyes, awakening from the terrible nightmare, screaming words of longing and pain in a language no human had ever uttered. Yet one human did hear the screams of agony, a man separated from the woman by a vast gulf of time and space.

  Though the words were incomprehensible to him, the man could clearly decipher their meaning and could sense her agony. For a moment, time and space ceased to exist. She called out to him, pleading with him to save her from the terrible ordeal. Her anguish and longing enveloped him until he, too, cried out loud, screaming at the top of his lungs, “No, no, no!”

  * * *

  The alarm went off and the tall young man awakened in a cold sweat. Ray Perkins threw off the bed covers and slowly, painfully, rose to a seated position. He remained thus for a moment, and put his hands to his head and slowly brushed away the hair from his eyes. His throat felt dry, his voice hoarse, as if he had been screaming aloud for a long time. Though he was desperately drawn to the beautiful, violet-eyed woman, Ray Perkins was weary of the toll these dreams always took. While he’d managed to turn these dreams into moneymaking computer games, he didn’t know how much more he could tolerate.

  After a few minutes he tried to stand, but fell, nearly knocking over his end table and clock in the process. He got up and assessed his condition, grumbling quietly to himself over his carelessness. Seeing he was uninjured, he staggered into the bathroom.

  The bedroom was large, comfortably furnished with thick gray shag carpeting, two polished wooden end tables, and a long dresser. Atop the dresser stood a single small lamp, as well as several picture frames, displaying events from the past now only distant memories in Ray’s mind.

  Once in the bathroom, he took a deep breath, coughed again a few times, and walked over to the mirror, staring at his unshaven face. His piercing blue eyes were bloodshot. His slightly long, curly brown hair was unkempt. The brown stubble under his chin had slowly become almost beard-like, evidence of not having shaved in a week or so. There was just the suggestion of gray about the sideburns, though otherwise Ray’s face remained clean, smooth, barely marked by lines and creases of age; quite handsome in conveying an inner sense of character, though Ray never really considered himself to be particularly attractive. His physique was thin but muscular, the product of a regular and strenuous workout regimen.

  Oh, great, now I’m starting to look like my father.

  He tapped some cold water onto his face, but wasn’t satisfied. In frustration, he just splashed it on in torrents. He still wore the old, faded jeans and baggy T-shirt he put on the day before.

  Ray slowly walked out of the bathroom and made his way to the front door. He undid a couple of security locks and opened it with a slight squeak. He bent down, picked up the newspaper, and closed the door.

  He remained extremely groggy, and he shook his head a few times to clear the cobwebs.

  Ray finally began to feel awake, but figured it would take a strong cup of coffee to make him fully alert. He entered the small kitchenette area located adjacent to the living room and sat down on a dark enameled metal chair. He reached across to a long shelf and turned on the coffee maker. As the morning beverage brewed, he opened the newspaper and glanced at the headlines.

  Ray passed up the spicy details of the latest lurid political scandals and haphazardly turned pages until a single small headline
atop page six caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment. Long-dormant memories poured into his mind.

  “This is damned unbelievable,” Ray murmured to himself, half in disbelief, half in near shock, as he began to read the article.

  * * *

  Government Denies Existence

  of Alien Bodies at Area 51:

  The U.S. government has again denied a growing number of claims that it is harboring aliens from a spaceship that crashed on Earth more than sixty years ago.

  On this subject, U.S. Air Force spokesman James W. Moseley argued, “Those tabloid papers and cult magazines have been raving about this stuff for years, and it’s just not true!”

  Mr. Moseley emphasized the point by pounding his fist on a nearby table. “There is absolutely not the slightest chance that the Air Force is hiding alien bodies. The very idea is absurd. There are no gray aliens!”

  Mr. Moseley, a public information officer for the Air Force intelligence group in Washington, was responding to the growing clamor for Congressional hearings into the activities of the military research establishment that has become known as Area 51.

  Ignoring most reporters’ questions, Mr. Moseley concluded, “There is just no reason to hold hearings on this stuff. There’s nothing to it and enough government money has already been wasted on fantasies.”

  Some so-called UFO scholars have long contended that the government captured beings from another planet many years ago and has kept them at the Area 51 facility for scientific research.

  Kenneth J. Alpert of Atlanta, author of several well-known books on UFOs, claims to have evidence that extraterrestrials exist. He alleges that their bodies have been kept in a state of suspended animation at a top-secret laboratory inside Area 51, deep below the surface, in a chamber known as “Level S4.”

  Responding to Mr. Moseley’s statement, Mr. Alpert said, “Of course they’ll deny it. They’ve been doing that for sixty years. It’s time Congress began to investigate to find out what they’ve been hiding from the people!”