Text: Odilius Vlak / Artwork: Eddaviel
Case of the Martian Invasion in 1492
A Guazabara Against the Martians
Here the Second Part of our Creative Nonfiction article covering the inauguration of the Extremophile Caribbean Congress. The first of its nature celebrated in Dominican Republic. To read the first part visit: Cacibaquel's Prophecy
Heat rays and poisoning black smoke blight the yucayeque. It belongs to the Maguana Chiefdom. Our heroes emerge out of the poster's dimensional portal right into the air raid.
"Yoss, WATCHOUT!!!"
His sword blocks the ray just in time. The impact sends him back to a yucca's conuco. He stands up dazed. Holds an object.
"Look what I stumbled upon to, chico."
The quartz glass cemí gives out a psychedelic orange —the cohoba's everlasting radiance. The idol speaks:
"I'm Yucahuguamá, the one who prophesied Cacibaquel the coming of these invaders. But I misinterpreted my vision: they aren't earthly beings —thanks for defending our cause with your sword Conan the Cimmerian. The Caribbean welcomes your Hiborian Age. The gods Yúcahu and Crom in a Mythic alliance against the extraterrestrial demons from the bastard brother of Itiba Cahubaba: the red planet."
"CONAN!?" Yoss fakes incredulity. "Well, OK," and jump in jubilee. His tight outfit showcases a barbaric energy Super Extra Large.
"Did you see that? Yoss became the avatar when Yucahu…, whatever his name is, named it. I can bet he's a Sword & Sorcery fanatic,“ remark in amazement Joel Morales tuning himself into another character.
"Welcome too, Cocubaní: warrior of the Blue People. Again your moon copulates with ours."
The idol goes on invoking avatars for each one of THE LEAGUE OF TIME GENTLEMEN. The far cry of Nan Chevalier reminds them the Martians. A Taino woman stumbles upon the orisha Ogun, now second life of Erick Mota. The Yoruba Mythology coming to aid its brethren. The woman flees; falls down; looks up with frighten eyes.
The Tainos disappear into a huge cave. They pray: "Mother Atabey, shelters us inside your womb."
"And now that we are talking about tailor made characters, I don't see Eggoviel…," Odilius Vlak pauses looking around.
"Nevermind fray Ramón Pané —just have faith in your cross and leaves the rest to your God," assured Yucahuguamá.
And indeed he grasps an otherworldly crucifix. But he wasn't the historical Hieronymite monk, but his version in Journey to the Center of the Myths. Viaje al centro de los mitos.
WAOOOO!!!," exclaims Manuel Antonio, "a crucifix with super powers. I don't need to see myself on a mirror to know that I'm Magnusseven —my do it self made superheroe.»
"Great!" added Markus E. Goth. "All type of magic and technology will be useful."
"What kind of character is exoeskeleting you?" Leorian, through the eyes of Cosmos, look at him suspiciously.
"I'm Namirrha, seer and necromancer; a fearsome name in the distant future of ZOTHIQUE, last continent on earth. Gods like Thasaidon and Thamogorgos wish Terrestrial worshipers in that end of times, not Martians. So, if they conquer this past that future won't exist."
"I think is a good moment to put down this promotional toy of the Taino fantasy," interrupt Yoss jokingly and place it among the fragments of a burén.
"It's not a wise advice to take necromancy as an ally. Grandfather Bayamanaco fell into its abyss and Yayael followed him. That said, you're welcome. The same goes for you Cosmo."
"WOOF!!!," barks an Aon dog. The panic cures its natural dumbness. It stares the sky cuddled behind the cemí.
Mars Attacks!
"TIME GENTLEMEN, let's kick some ass from outer space!"
THE MARTIAN ARIJUNA'S REPORT
Our Plan A was to rob the bodies of the earthly being named Christopher Columbus, and those of his Spaniard crew sailing the Atlantic Ocean heading to the West. His goal was to reach the far east of the planet going around its circumference. The advantage was to start our conquering camouflaged of the most powerful members of the specie. Not of the native of the continent we knew he was about to discover, because we had already mapped the whole sphere.
It was a brilliant idea: parasite their bodies, take over a region totally unknown by the rest of the planet inhabitants and establish a huge operational base…
We intercepted them just at midway. But their Catholic fanaticism and the energy of the words "God rebukes the devil!" Blocked the body snatching transforming their nervous system —vessel of our replicating virus— in an inexpugnable fortress. We had been left with no other option than to sink the three ships.
We ruled out the body robbery and put in motion the Plan B —total EXTERMINATION of the aboriginal population. The simplest logistic was to wipe out the region were Columbus was going to arrive first: The Antillean islands. For the main land empires —Aztecs, Mayans and Incans— would take a longer time and we only have three scouting space ships. The Tainos, Caribs, Siboneyes, Ciguayos, Guanahatabeyes, have a much more primitive weaponry. Another thing: their minerals, necessary as a resource of energy, are spread out over a smaller geographic area. So we proceed.
We began in the north coast of Quisqueya. The first to bite the dust was a chieftain named Guacanagarix. The Ciguayos of the Samaná Penisula were next. They fought us with arrows that we turned out into ashes while flying. Guarionex, chieftain of the beautiful and rich Chiefdom of Magua, shared the same doom. Then we went to the South and arrived in the domains of the queen Ozema. Not a single body left without being burned or poisoned.
Finally, it was the turn of the Chiefdom of Maguana, kingdom the sorcerer Anacaona and his formidable husband, the warrior Caonabó. They couldn't stand a chance. We were about to finish the holocaust when —seemingly from a dimensional portal opened all of a sudden— jumped out into the battle field a group of humans endowed with powers beyond our comprehension.
The final analysis is that they traveled from the future with the aim to defend the natives and repel our invasion. We are still fighting them. Heat rays and poisoning gas hurt or chase them away, but not annihilate them. We found out that their freaky fanaticism enables them to make real cosplay of fictional characters —superheroes, gods, wizards, warriors…—; dwellers of the dimensions of myths, books, comics, videogames, TV series and movies of fantasy, science fiction, horror… That's the secret of their power.
We can access those dimensions. Destroy their stories. But in the future to which belong the imaginations that created them, not from this past. That would imply postpone our conquest now and start another war forward in time —against better armed terrestrials. Option discarded.
We'll try our last attack. In case it fails, we ask the Martian High Command permission to blown up the planet. Its existence is a threat to ours..
FINAL BATTLE: ALTERNATIVE HOLY HILL
"Good idea to retract ourselves to the Royal Vega," approves Magnuseven, "I'll be born here in the future."
"Better take your post," advice Conan "if we lost this fight you won't be born."
They proceed to implement the defense strategy worked out after chase off the three Martian space ships from the Chiefdom of Jaragua's cost. By the time they arrive to Maguana, Caonabó was already a formless mess of burned flesh. At least they rescued Nan Chevalier. Anacaona went along Yucahuguamá into the safety of Iguanaboina cave.
Ramón Pané nails his crucifix on the hill's top; Ogun coordinates the finishing attack with the Taino troops under the leadership of Maniocatex; Conan places himself like a bait at the edge of the valley; Cosmos, Magnuseven and the Cocubaní warrior, watch from the high of three gigantic ceiba trees; Namirrha poses a still and hieratic bearing in the background.
Three ships spot the horizon of the Taino turey, blocking ominously the nascent light of the Güey in the daybreak of the definitive confrontation. By noon the vaina it's not suitable for the heart failing ones.
The sword edge cut through the metal tentacle. The piece falls before Conan just at the moment in which his powerful arm catches the weapon in its final circular flight. He intents a second blow… "Ahrrgggg…" Extreme pain. The full degree of the heating ray impacts his body. One second later his legs looks like the ones of a roasted chicken. Then a flashing shadow and his body disappears. Cosmos makes several evasion movements. Try to secure the unconscious and scorched Barbarian in the ceiba tree. A chilling snapping sound. The tree falls down. Magnuseven and Cocubaní utter a doomsday cry. Their ceibas also collapse. A forced retreat. The Martians own the valley. Now for the hill.
"Conan's out of combat; Eddaviel seemingly went on backward in time…," comment Pané fanning with his brown scapular the poisoning black smoke. "Namirrha, you already know what to do," he concludes; then make the sign of the cross, kneel down and pray:
"I call the present of the Holy Ghost Angel. That his power wounds with their own weapons the flesh of the Martians that wield them against us."
A golden fire burns out from the rosette symbol on the left point of the cross' horizontal arm. The flames shape the angel's figure. He takes the front post with his blazing sword pressed against his chest. His halo forms a sphere around the hill. The sword wheels. The disk of light returns the whipping tentacles, heat rays and jets of lethal black smoke, bomb down merciless by the Martian ships. The invaders protect themselves from the rebound of their own attacks with a magnetic field. Pushing forward, stepping backward and counter offensive, take turn in a ceaseless repetition —it's a pandemonium of heavy artillery. Neither angel nor Martians give respite to each other. Pané keeps on praying. The Tainos become panic stricken in the opposite side of the hill. Start running away in disarray. Ogun threats them with his own version of Joseph Stalin's "Not a step back" order.
The orisha's body grows to a gigantic divine size. Nobody moves. Instead they decide to watch Namirrha's fifteen minutes of fame.
He's invoking the Macrocosmic Caracaracoles of Yúcahu. The four creatures form out of the stones from the whole Cibao. At once they set to battle; trying, time after time, to smash the enemy ships. But the Martians attack worsen. The poisoning black smoke confuses them; the heat rays turn their blood into lava; the tentacles coil around their feet; topple them down.
"It seems there's no other option Namirrha —I'll shot the angel against the ships. Their weapons' energy is inexhau…"
"Look!!!"
"God rebukes the…," Pané holts the reprehension. EGGOVIEL!!!
He lands on the sphere.
«SorryI was fulfilling a mission for Guabonito." Emoticon with a roguish smile. "But anyway, order the angel to remove the sphere. His sword will serve as a springboard."
He dives down and bounces on the sword's tip. It slingshots him like a projectile. The ships retreat. Up and up they go without ceasing fire. Eggoviel lost velocity. Three pair of hands push him up: those of Cosmos, Magnuseven and Cocubaní. He unsheathes Eggosword. Another acceleration: Ogun hits him with his machete. The huge hand of an invisible thing pitches his body to strikeout the invaders. Credit to Namirrha. Martians recognize that now is for real. So they try to flee beyond the exosphere… Too late!
Eggosword flashes a cut through the three ships reducing them to cogs, nuts, bolts, and red hot pieces of metals. The thunder resonates in Mars. Gravity extradites to earth the scattered crew. Eddaviel manages to brake himself halfway between both planets, and raising his middle finger: "Fuck you, invaders full of shit!".Mission accomplished. Back in Quisqueya, the Martians crawl helpless all over the valley.
"Finish them!" cries Ogun.
The Tainos obey and lurch the first machete charging in the Caribbean history.
High in heaven, Mother Atabey watches with prideful eyes the splatter punk and entertain herself counting the chunks of Alien flesh. She doesn't pay attention to the GENTLEMEN who are looking at each other sharing the same concern —back in the future, they'll find the original space time continuum, or the one created by the alternative past of the poster?
Well, let's touch wood and light candles to whoever Catholic saints, in order they can find themselves again in the celebration of the Extremophile Caribbean Congress, and not facing a Martian revenge.
The end
And meanwhile, in a parallel Caribbean this war is being planned:
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