Chapter 1

Do aliens exist? With billions of galaxies, each containing billions of suns, there must be life somewhere. To think otherwise denies the very nature of the universe. What we need to know is if they have traveled millions of light years merely to visit our planet.

This whole mess started when Thomas Morgan was called into the captain’s office for a sit-down. He knew what it was about. A merchant sailor and the senior engineer on his ship, rumor was the ship was getting the chop. She was being sold to make razor blades, as they say.

They would not have a new position for Tom on another ship. If there were any new openings, a young guy would get it first. Youngsters are cheaper to pay. There were no new openings. It is a dying business in the United States.

The state of American shipping today is sad. The country loses American ships and shipyards every year. We have so few ships. Who can compete with foreign-flagged ships? They are subsidized by other countries. They’re built cheaply overseas. They are crewed by low-quality labor.

So, at age forty-two, I, Thomas Morgan, was getting shown the door.

The bright side was that I’m single and had put most of my pay in the company credit union throughout my career. I’d put away the max towards retirement every year. Unfortunately, some of that was untouchable until I reach social security age.

I have over six hundred and fifty thousand dollars stashed in different banks. It’s stashed in several banks because one bank’s FDIC insurance covers only $250,000.

I also own a single-wide trailer in the panhandle of Florida. It isn’t much, and it’s really an old goose-neck RV. I could milk that 2/3rd of a million living there for the rest of my life.

How boring would that be? What other choice did I have? I was tired of the merchant marine anyway. I had spent my entire adult life there. It’s more than time for a change.

No, I knew I had to find something else to do. Vegetating in a moth-eaten mobile home differed from what I considered a proper retirement. I got the place cheap and bought it mostly as a place to wind down between cruises.

I did the expected hand-shaking with the captain, who wished me well. Later, I met with the shipping division’s grand high poobah. The division boss only showed up because he liked to give you your last check the day you got the boot. My shipmates were in the same situation.

I took an Uber to a cheap motel near the airport. I checked in and lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling. ‘Well, what now, Thomas? You have no woman, no close friends, and nothing to do.’

I liked working on ships. I knew I was pretty much a social outcast. It wasn’t my looks. I had come to not like other people much. It was like I was Alternating Current when everyone else was Direct Current. Both are similar ideas, but you can only put the two together with much arcing and sparking.

After years I had learned to keep my mouth shut and do what the bosses told me. I was one of many odd guys in the merchant marine. It was a good collection place for many of society’s misfits.

In some ways, I’m the ideal employee. I’m not political. I do not try to get people to do things. I’m not involved in the union. I just paid my dues, always showed up on time, and worked hard. I want to exist with a minimum of personal hassle as a solid, reliable employee. It was something inside me. I had always tried my very best. Coworkers - bah!

I went next door and had a steak and baked potato. I got the Caesar Salad but had them substitute the Caesar dressing with blue cheese. Back in my room, I checked on my flight again.

I had a one-stop flight to Tallahassee. My trailer was almost two hours west of Tallahassee. I cleaned up again, removed my clothes, and turned in. I set my cell phone to wake up at 5:30.

God, I hated that sound. I fumbled with the phone and shut it off. I jumped in the shower again to wet my face to make shaving easier. I went acouple doors down to a choke and puke to get breakfast. I had the meat lovers omelet with hash browns. Coffee, lots of coffee.

After an hour, I returned to my room and got my stuff. I ordered an Uber, checked out, and waited as the Uber drove up. In 2027, few taxi companies still exist. Taxi companies had been fucking thieves. I had not missed their passing one bit. They had fucked over Americans for well over a century. You may need to find out how clean or old your Uber might be. However, paying $18 for the first 1/10th mile in a taxi is ludicrous.

I paid using my credit union MasterCard and gave the guy 20% for a tip. I went in and checked in at the Southwest desk. I paid extra for the luggage. I just kept my laptop. It had a little soft case.

I went through the Homeland bullshit inspection line, and since I was so early, I stopped for another coffee at one of the concessions.

When it got close to time, I strolled down to the gate. It’s so easy to be unseen at an airport. Thousands of people come and go every day. I keep my head and eyes down, and nobody bothers me. I am a big guy and don’t look friendly—the type of man most want to avoid.

Early afternoon, I found myself walking out of the Tallahassee airport. I grabbed another Uber and told him to take me to Tallahassee Ford. We chatted on the way, more like him talking, than me. I managed to get out of the car without telling him one personal thing about myself.

At the dealership, I walked in and told them I had a truck waiting. I saw it on the Internet and had put $5,000 down.

You might have thought it would have been a done deal, but nope. The dealership people wanted to talk me to death. They tried to finance it, their insurance, after-sale warranty, and all kinds of add-on shit. They even tried including a ceramic wax job costing $900. Every time they brought something up, I said no.

The longer we went, the louder my no’s got. My no’s become HELL NO’s. Finally, I stood up and looked down at the rotund and balding little sales manager.

I told him, “Look, asshole. I just spent most of my life in the merchant marine. Do I look like someone you want to fuck with? Finish the FUCKING PAPERWORK NOW! Or so help me...”

See, there as no Mrs. Morgan standing there telling me to behave. I had been patient up to a point. I had seen plenty of rough places and did not like unnecessary bullshit.

My rising voice should have convinced him I was not a big fish that was willing to swallow every bit of the expensive lies he presented. I was not biting on their B.S. Not surprisingly, the manager had come over, and he was pissed at the yelling.

DILLIGAS - Do I Look Like I Gave A Shit?

All of a sudden, fatso’s attitude became more agreeable. I gave them my card, and they hurried to finalize the deal. I had had enough of bartering and playing fuck-fuck in places overseas. Why should I put up with that shit here?

If everyone left the wives at home and dealt Mano a Mano, it would be a much better world. Simps need to do what the wifey wants or says. Unfortunately, women seem to have taken over America. When did that happen?

I got the truck. It looked great, washed by an 11-year-old, maybe. It was a 2019 F-150 with a 5-liter V-8 engine. I picked white, of course, because it gets sweltering in Florida. Just under 55K on the odometer.

I paid thirty-two K. A new truck started at over 95 for the same stripped down model. Only you can never get out the door for the sticker price. The 8-cylinder pickup is also getting very scarce. I wanted a real engine with a real transmission.

I feel like puking whenever a salesman asks, “How much can you afford to pay?” What the fuck planet are these idiots coming from? It’s like the price is NOT the price. It’s merely a negotiating point they start from.

I pulled into my driveway at dusk. If the bald manager had been any slower, finding my driveway in the dark would have been difficult.

Years ago, I bought a 5-acre lot along Bent Creek Road. After I got the well in, the cost was almost $46,000. So I bought an old, used 45-foot RV trailer and had it towed to my property. I was miles from anyone, and nobody could see my trailer.

I had a curved driveway and did not put up a mailbox or anything like that. With no water bills or electricity, it was well hidden. It’s off-grid, too.

I removed the door padlock and opened the hasp to the trailer door. Ya, RV door locks can be opened with one of those tiny Swiss penknives. It needed to be more secure; hence, I added the hasp.

I hit the light switch inside the door, and it came on, Yaa! I looked at the solar inverter and the state of the battery charge. It looked good.

I just wanted to relax. Coming through the podunk village of Ponce De Leon, I’d picked up a six-pack, a bag of chips, and a bag of ice. I put my earbuds on and started one of my tracks on my phone. I slipped the phone into my shirt pocket. I sipped beer and then remembered I had a well.

Uh-oh. I needed to run the water for a while. I went into the kitchen and started the water. If all goes well, the pump will come on automatically, and I can get the stagnant water out of the lines. I ran the water in the bathroom, too. I had replaced the RV toilet when I bought the RV., The rubber seals in the RV toilet were already dried out and leaky. That meant the water would drain out of the commode between uses.

I replaced the toilet with a natures head waterless kind. That way, I don’t have to pay for a septic tank on my little plot in the woods. The only thing coming out of the RV would be washing water from dishes or when I brush my teeth and shave.