This one was my crazy idea. Why would aliens come to Earth? To learn something? To make contact? or ... because their nonsensical religion tells them they have to? -- Jennie
The New Ones
a story by LilJennie and Miki Yamuri
Of course it all started at night. It had to. That’s the time when nobody’s quite sure whether what they saw was real. My girlfriend and I were camping in the state park, in a clearing. Lucky me, I was putting out the campfire and getting ready for sleep, but she’d already turned in for the night and was inside the tent. I’d paused to look up at the clear night sky and its myriad of stars, when one of them came straight down, unbelievably fast, and landed on the other side of the clearing, its lights flashing.
I fumbled for my phone, trying to take video of the thing. It turned on something like a super-bright spotlight and scanned the area quickly, doing one complete turn with that impossibly bright light. I shielded my eyes when it passed across me, but I felt the light as it washed over my body. Then it rotated on and scanned the rest of its surroundings. And then … it made a clicking, whining noise and leapt back into the sky, straight up, its sound fading just as quickly as it vanished back into a distant star and then into nothing.
Of course it happened at night. Of course I was the only witness. Of course no one would believe me. I had a partial, shaky video of the … UFO, I guess? Or are they calling them UAPs now? I couldn’t really sleep that night. I didn’t wake her up, but I showed it to my girlfriend the next morning. “Jim,” she said, “I was mostly asleep … I thought you’d turned on the truck and shined the headlights at the tent, but then it stopped and I fell all the way asleep. But it was … that?”
“Yeah, Cheryl,” I said, “that’s what the light was. I felt like I was getting a sunburn, but I didn’t get one. Did I?”
“Doesn’t look like it …” she said, tilting her head to look at me from slightly different angles. The next night we were both pretty excited and kind of scared, but we didn’t see it again.
I posted the video to the Internet when we got home. Of course I got a lot of comments accusing me of faking it, plus a bunch more from crazy-sounding people who said they’d seen a light in the sky once or a plane that didn’t act like a plane or whatever, but nothing quite like this.
Then I got a simultaneous text message and voicemail on my phone. The text message said, “We need to talk.” The voicemail said the same thing, in a computer voice. When I checked my email, I’d gotten a message that said the same thing, from an address that said “no-reply.” From what I could tell, the email was sent at precisely the same time as the text and voice messages.
“Need to talk? Need to talk about what?” I asked nobody. I was alone in the room … or so I thought. My phone rang. “Hello?”
“About what you saw,” came the same computer voice. “About the video you posted. About what it may have done to you.”
“Is this the government?” I asked.
My question wasn’t answered. “Meet at the south dock at Reed’s Lake, tomorrow, 7 p.m.,” the voice said.
“What if I have an appointment then?” I asked.
“You don’t,” said the voice. “Do not tell anyone about this appointment. Not even Cheryl.” I was unnerved.
“Look, this is scaring me,” I said. “How about we forget the whole thing?”
“That is not an option,” the voice said. “Tomorrow, 7 p.m., Reed’s Lake, south dock.”
“What if I don’t show up?”
“Then we will come to you unannounced, at a time and place of our choosing,” said the voice.
“Fine, fine,” I said.
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When I showed up, it was about five minutes before 7 p.m. There was already someone out on the dock – it wasn’t much of a dock, mostly meant for canoes and rowboats for fishing. It wasn’t that big a lake. But the person on the dock wasn’t dressed for fishing. They were in a black suit with sunglasses. Were they one of the Men in Black that I’d heard about? I’d seen movies based on them, I guess, but I forget whether they were supposed to be Federal agents or something else. When I approached, I saw that this was a woman. Kind of tall, short dark hair, black pantsuit. I slowed down as I approached.
“Mr. Gensher,” she said. “I must first make sure we aren’t observed.” She touched something like a watch that she wore on her wrist, and suddenly we stood in a bubble of sharp clarity within a world that seemed to have become fuzzy and out of focus, not to mention silent. “No one outside this field can see or hear us. You may speak freely.”
“What the hell is this about?” I asked. “Who are you?”
“I represent an organization with concerns about the video you posted,” she said. “Please allow me to scan you.” She took out of her purse – black, of course – a device that looked like a smart phone, but it was clearly far more than that. It looked as if it played some kind of green laser beam across me and made some sort of electronic noises. She looked at its screen and said, “The craft you encountered has fundamentally changed your molecular structure. It left markers in the proteins within your cells. Presumably this is so whoever sent the device would be able to find you again if they needed to for some reason.”
“Whoever sent it?” I asked. “You don’t know? But of course I don’t know who you are. You have some … interesting gadgets, I suppose, but what’s going on?”
“Without the proper initiation, I cannot reveal anything to you,” she said. “Indeed, there are things that I am not privileged to know. But … you are correct. If we do know who sent that device, that knowledge has not been revealed to me.”
“Device?” I asked. “It wasn’t a … spaceship?”
“Oh, it was a spaceship,” she said. “But not one with passengers, we think. An automated probe, most likely. The first like it we’ve seen, but … perhaps not the last.”
“The first … like it?” I asked. “You’ve seen other alien probes?”
She ignored that question. “We will be watching you,” she told me. “I apologize, but we must. They marked you, and there may well be a reason for that. They may come back for you. And when they do, we will need to be there.”
“Come back for me?” I asked. “To do what?”
“If we know that, I have not been made privy to that knowledge,” she replied.
“You’re part of an … organization?” I asked. “Can I ask what it’s called? How do people ever join it, if you’re so secretive?”
“We are very careful with whom we invite,” she answered.
“You’re … what, Freemasons or something?”
“No, not them,” she said. “You should go now. We won’t be far, but you won’t see us … unless something happens. Be ready.”
Well, I certainly slept well after THAT, let me tell you. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, looking up at the sky, looking out windows, peeking around curtains. Cheryl thought I was paranoid. I didn’t tell her about the meeting at the dock; I was too scared. I was afraid they’d put burlap sacks over both our heads before I even spoke the first word, and we’d be staked out on the beach at low tide or whatever. And we were thousands of miles from the ocean.
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The next morning found me in a frazzle. Thank the maker for coffee and honey. I immediately went to my computer and booted up. I had to see if anyone other than me had seen anything. The falling star mystery seemed to be all anyone saw of the actual arrival. Of course, I just had to be the only one who saw the darn thing.
Then it dawned on me … what if I wasn’t the only one? What if I was just the only one dumb enough to tell everybody? What if that explained the reaction to the posts I had made – they were a distraction and smokescreen? All the attention would be on me and what kind of idiot I was, not the actual facts. Interesting, an ancient magician’s trick, prestidigitation. Have everyone’s attention focused on one thing while the real thing goes on unnoticed.
I had to go to work. I quickly got dressed and left the house, got in the car and started it. For an instant from the corner of my field of vision, I suddenly got the flash impression of someone in some type of camouflage dashing from one place to another. As hard as I looked, however, I couldn’t see whatever it was again.
I began to feel paranoid as I backed out and drove up the street. No matter what, I still felt like I was being watched, even though I never saw another flash image like that first sighting.
I was glad to see Robbie Wilson at his normal security position at the gate. He greeted me in his cheery way and even gave me a large coffee and a strawberry filled doughnut as normal. As I took a drink of the coffee I was also looking around. I didn’t see anything suspicious, although I did see a great many places a person could easily hide and still observe the gate. But those had always been there. I was just noticing them because I felt paranoid.
Robbie said with a concerned tone, “Is, there something wrong?” He took a quick scan of the local area before stepping back to the guard shack at the gate. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary …”
I quickly replied, “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I’m just a little antsy this morning. Have a rather important presentation – I’m a tad nervous.”
Robbie laughed as he waved me through the gate, “Good luck, then. Hope it turns out well.”
I replied, “Thanks.” as I drove off and parked.
The day went by normally, and I didn’t have any unusual incidents. My presentation went off without a hitch, and I saw nothing unusual nor any weird shadows.
However, on the way home, I kept seeing something that would catch my attention out of the corner of my eye. I never actually saw anything, but let me tell you I was super paranoid by the time I got home.
I dashed inside, locked all the doors, and pulled all the drapes. Cheryl watched me like I had gone looney tunes as I booted up my computer and started looking for some type of thick metal storm shutters I could get to cover the windows. The search even showed me several types of rollaways that were automatic.
“Is it that thing you saw?” asked Cheryl? “That was weird, sure, but … you know, that was out in the woods, dozens of miles out of town. How could it find you here? It’s OK, Sweetie.”
I couldn’t tell her about the … person I’d talked to. They sounded dangerous. I just replied, “Well … I have to admit it’s on my mind. I want to protect myself. And you. I don’t know if it’s possible to be too careful. I don’t know what that was.”
She nodded and smiled in that way she did when I’d bought the Super Deluxe tent instead of the basic model. “I understand. You never want to do anything if you can’t do it right. Well, don’t buy out the web store.”
And then, that night, I had to take out the trash.
I glimpsed something in the sky, because of course I was still glancing upward frequently. It came down and landed right in my path. It made its whining and clicking sounds. Its lights blinked.
And suddenly it was surrounded in some kind of cube of green light. It had gone silent, its lights dark. There was kind of an electrical humming sound coming from somewhere off to the right …
“Apologies for not getting it on the way down, Mr. Gensher,” came a man’s voice. “I’ll take it away, and it’ll be out of your life, like the others.” The cube of green light shrank, and the alien probe thing shrank with it, and then it just sort of got pulled or sucked into the gun-like device he’d zapped it with.
“Wait, what? Others?” I asked.
“Sorry, I’ve said too much,” he said.
“Look, I think I deserve some answers for all the stress I’ve been under these past 24 hours,” I said testily.
“Well, I personally agree,” said the man, who was in some kind of dark camouflage, almost like a ninja costume, in the shadows behind the garage. “But I don’t make those decisions. Hey, you know, if you want, I can pass that request along. Who knows? You might get brought in on this.”
“I’m kind of in on this already, aren’t I?” I said. “Yes, I would absolutely like to know what the hell is going on. I formally request to know what the hell is going on. How’s that? And if I don’t, I’m going to take a vacation to some other country and make it harder for you people to follow me.”
“You think you can do that, do you?” he said with a chuckle. “Well, I’ll pass along your request, then. Goodnight, Mr. Gensher.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said. There was no response. “Hello?” I looked around the garage again. He was gone, of course.
I picked up the trash bag I’d dropped and put it in the bin.
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“At your lunch break tomorrow, walk down Ash Street to the Triangle Diner, sit down at the third table on the left, and order the club sandwich,” said the voice on the phone. It was an unknown number, of course. “Someone will join you. You’ll know they’re the right person because they’ll order the Reuben.”
“Is this who I think it is?” I asked.
“This is how you’re going to get answers,” the voice said. The call ended. Well, they knew I didn’t have any plans for lunch tomorrow. They knew I’d hardly ever been to the Triangle Diner, though I knew where it was; I’d been there maybe once or twice ever. It wasn’t that far from work. The food was OK, I remembered, but nothing to write home about.
Well, the next day, at noon, I did what they said. I left work, walked to the diner rather than driving, and went to the third table on the left. Every other table was taken, but not that one. I sat down, and when someone came to take my order, I ordered the club sandwich. “There,” I said to myself. “Now let’s see what happens.”
The woman I’d met before entered, came to my table, sat down, and ordered the Reuben when the server came. “You followed directions,” she said. “That’s important. You didn’t even order a drink.”
“That’s how much I want to know what’s going on,” I said. “Who are you? Who are you … representing?”
“Let me just say for starters that most of us aren’t like me,” she said. “I work for the … organization full time. Most of us have other jobs and only go to the meetings. Unless … something unusual happens.”
“Like what happened to me.”
“Exactly,” she said. “That’s why we’re all here today.” Suddenly all the windows in the restaurant went dark; everyone near them had lowered their window shades.
A man in a suit at the next table over stood up and said, “We are here to offer initiation to Mr. James Gensher here.”
As one voice everyone in the diner responded, “The Pyramid calls.”
“Mr. Gensher, do you accept the offer?” asked the man, looking at me.
“Do I get answers?”
“Some,” the man said. “The longer you stay … the more you’ll get.”
“Do I have to keep it secret from Cheryl?” I asked.
“Naturally,” he said. “Of course, there may be things she’s kept secret from you.”
“I don’t think … you know what? I don’t know. But I’m in. What do I do?”
“You say the words, ‘I seek the Pyramid.’”
“OK. I seek the Pyramid,” I said.
Everyone else in the entire diner, the cooks and servers included, replied, “The Pyramid awaits.”
“Welcome to our new Initiate, James Gensher!” There was applause. I didn’t know what to do. But when it died down, he told the woman at my table, “Very well. Fill him in on what’s allowed.”
He sat down, and everyone went back to their lunches and their conversations. Eventually the servers brought us my club sandwich and her Reuben. And they brought me an iced tea, which is what I would have ordered, and they somehow knew that.
I looked at the woman. “That was … odd,” I said.
“Every society has its rules and rituals,” she replied. “There’s a meeting of the local chapter once a week. It’s not here. It’s on 33rd Street between 12th and 13th. Every Sunday evening at 8.”
“Sunday at 8,” I said. “I’ll be there, if you want.”
“You should be there next time,” she said. “There’s paperwork, of course. Anyway, I’m allowed to tell you some things now.”
“Like what the name of this organization is?”
“We’re the Order of Giza,” she said. “We’ve been around since ancient Egypt and have chapters all over the world. Some of the world’s most influential people are members. Of course, some of the world’s other most influential people are members of other groups, some almost as old.”
“And you know about alien probes.”
“That’s just the thing. Aliens don’t probe. We’ve been in contact with all the known alien races for thousands of years. They don’t have to scan the Earth anymore. They did all that a long time ago.”
“There are … known alien races?” I asked.
“Yes, and you’ll learn more if you stick around and rank up,” she replied. “All you have to do is help out when it’s needed and keep it secret. No, we aren’t going to have you kill anybody.”
“Good, but if aliens don’t probe, then what was that thing?” I asked.
“We’ve captured four of them so far,” she replied, “all of which were coming after you, as I said that day at the lake.”
“What?”
“Three of them we got before you noticed them,” she explained. “Then there was the one you noticed. Jack was a bit slow on the trigger that night. But he still got it.”
“So what are those things, then?” I asked.
“As I said, they’re probes, but they’re not from any of the extraterrestrial governments we’re in contact with … and we’ve asked them about these. They don’t like them. Some of them know who sent them, and they’re bad news. They mean trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Invasion.”
“What?”
“The beings who sent these don’t form agreements,” she told me. “They don’t form alliances, they don’t make peaceful contact. They come, they see what they need to destroy, and then they do. Or try to. Others have successfully fought them off.”
“What do they want?” I asked. “Do they want to kill us all and colonize the Earth?”
“They have some kind of … call it a religious belief,” she said. “Their religion, philosophy, or whatever, tells them that certain types of life must be eradicated from the cosmos. They fanatically believe in it. They’ve never been to Earth before, so we don’t know whether our kind of life is against their religion or not, but we’re assuming they’ll attack once they figure it out.”
“Because if they don’t, then it’s not a problem,” I said. “They’ll move on. Best to prepare for the worst-case scenario.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Meanwhile, we’re trying to delay them. Capturing their probes means that we can learn about their technology, and they don’t learn more from you.”
“If they’re still sending probes, they must not have decided yet,” I said.
“They’ve probably sent hundreds of probes and are waiting for all the data to come back, so they can be really sure. You were the first, but several others have been probed now. We’ve got people all over the world capturing probes. But we’ve certainly missed some of the probes. Some of the data will get back to them.”
“Err, what happens if they decide to attack?” I asked.
“Then we and our allies have to fight them so they’ll leave Earth alone,” she said.
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By the time I managed to get home, I was almost in a paranoid panic. When I dashed into the house and began the automatic closing of the steel storm shutters, Cheryl came to me and took me by the hands and gave me a soft kiss.
She tugged me over to the sofa. I wasn’t exactly 100% willing to let her distract me from my worries. Before I could fight with her anymore, she put one finger in the middle of my chest … and pushed gently. There was no pain of any kind, yet I no longer could keep my balance as I fell back into the soft embrace of the sofa in a helpless flump. I looked at Cheryl in total wide-eyed amazement as she snuggled next to me along with caresses and kisses.
She said softly, “I know what happened at the meeting. Welcome abord. Now I can tell you more of what’s going on. Humanity has set up a secret network across our planet. Thousands of years ago, Earth was invaded several times by hostile aliens.”
I said in surprise, “You’re one of …? OK, OK, of course you are.” I was almost starting to think of this stuff as normal. “There must be something you can show me in history or something to prove that? But any way, yeah … aliens. Go on, Cheryl.”
Cheryl smiled as she picked up a book from the table. Its title was Platinum of the Strange Visitors. She handed it to me, then got up and went to the bookcase. She removed several thick research books, brought them back, and sat beside me.
She said, “It’s been such a long time. There’s no physical evidence left. The very best I can do is show you the legends mankind has passed down about them.”
I was astounded. Cheryl showed me tales of Norse mythology, about the Aesir and Odin. The tails of King Arthur amazed me even more once I discovered how much truth there was to his tale. Who would have dreamed that Merlin was a friendly alien there to aid humanity fight off the evil aliens trying to conquer us?
Cheryl explained further, “After that massive hiccough in our history, a few of the braver human leaders met with the friendly aliens. Apparently they’d been observing humankind for a good many centuries. The organization that we’re both part of now set up coalitions to watch over our planet so invasions could be dealt with early. If we can catch them in time, they can be averted.”
Our conversation ran long into the very wee hours. I was totally awestruck at some of the things I thought mankind had accomplished, only to discover we’d had a lot of help just when we needed it.
You can bet I counted every second until 8pm arrived that Sunday. I was at the meeting at 33rd Street between 12th and 13th streets with bells on. I was completely blindsided to know Cheryl not only knew about all this, but was also a member of the Order of Giza.
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It happened again, though. I couldn’t stay inside at all times; there was my job, and there were errands to run. Cheryl and I weren’t hermits. So when I had to go to the store because we were nearly out of a number of important groceries (read toilet paper!), there was another one of those machines waiting for me when I got out of my car. But then there was a bright light from above me. Everything, including the probe that sat there in the grocery store parking lot right in front of me, seemed frozen in time.
“Now that you know, we can show ourselves to you directly,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see a tall being, humanoid but bald and with large, dark eyes. It wore a silvery robe and was holding up its four-fingered hands, probably to show me that it had no weapons. “I’m what you commonly call a Zeta Reticulan,” said the alien – I didn’t think I was jumping to any conclusions by calling it that in my mind. “My name is Kron. I’m told yours is Jim. I’m going to be taking this thing out of your way, if you don’t mind.” It gestured at the strange probe, still frozen in time under the beam of light from somewhere far above in the night.
“N-no, not at all, be my guest,” I said. “These things have been harassing me for a week now.”
“Good, good,” said Kron. “Ready for transport.” The probe levitated a few inches off the ground before suddenly vanishing in a flash of light.
“So the Order of Giza knows about Zeta Reticulans?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Kron. “We’re in contact with its leadership and have an agreement. Several other worlds also have such agreements. You may wish to discuss this with the Order now that you’re a member. Thank you. We’ll be studying the device, and we’ll let the Order know what we learn. So far we don’t even know what the people who sent it call themselves. We call them the Fanatics – well, we actually call them the word that means that in our language.”
“It’s … fascinating to meet you,” I said. “Do you know how long their genetic markers, or whatever the proper term is, are going to be in my body?”
“Unfortunately, no, I don’t,” said Kron. “Sorry about that, Jim. We just don’t know enough about their technology yet. Perhaps once we properly study this probe. Your Order has captured several, but they’ve been dissecting them themselves or giving them to the other species. They’ve said they’ll get one to us, but our engineers have been impatient to get a crack at one. We were passing by and our sensors went off, so I said, why don’t we just grab this one?”
I laughed. “Why not? Well, I hope they can learn something from it.”
“Me too,” said Kron. “Well, have a good night. They probably won’t send another one for at least 24 of your hours. Good luck!” Then the beam of light was gone, and so was Kron. I looked up at the sky, but I didn’t see anything. Everything around me suddenly started moving again. Had they temporarily frozen time? Or had that conversation just all been within our minds? Or maybe it had all been a figment of my imagination. My whole life was getting crazier by the day.
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So the meeting happened. I made sure to be at the specified address at 8 p.m. Sunday. The place looked like an old Masonic hall or Elks Club, Lions Club, whatever. It looked completely innocuous. But of course that was the idea.
Once I was inside, there was a man in a suit at a lectern, no, it was like the stand that a restaurant’s maître d’ had. There was a black curtain behind him – well, two curtains, because there wasn’t a door; you just went around one of them and then the other. He looked at me and said, “Oh, yes, of course, Mr. Gensher. Please allow me to show you to the office.” I followed him around the curtains and saw a large meeting hall, with some people already there, but he took me down a hallway and into a very normal looking office. And there was the woman I’d met before, behind a desk. “Mr. Gensher is here,” said the host. The woman nodded, and he left me there with her.
“Yes, thank you, Stan,” she said. Turning to me, she said, “Mr. Gensher, you’re here, and on time. That’s good. Now, if I may, I’d like to conduct your initiation formalities. First of all, if you could fill out this form.” She slid a sheet of paper to me across the desk with a pen on top. “Both sides, please.”
“Pen and paper?” I asked. Half jokingly, I added, “I thought it would be something more high tech.”
She’d come around the desk to stand beside me. “The ability to communicate in writing is ancient. One of our rival societies is trying to eliminate it. The entire development of movable type was all part of that plot, and computers have only accelerated it. Needless to say, we don’t agree with it.” As I began to fill out the form, I felt something brushing my other arm, and looked to find her fastening a silver fabric band around it, attached to some kind of device by a gold ribbon. Noticing that I was paying attention to it, she said, “Please continue filling out the form. I’m just getting some readings.”
The form was very standard, name, address, level of education, and so forth. Then it started asking odd questions, like what games I enjoyed playing, what my favorite foods were, whether I had any food allergies, and what my favorite music was. “Oh, the party planning committee insisted we add those questions,” she said. “They just want to try to make sure everyone has a good time.” Did I believe her?
But then the questions got stranger. “What is your relationship with shadows?” was one. Another was, “How do you feel about mirrors? Do you trust what you see in them?” There was also, “What is your preferred method for communicating with the unseen?” Several other very odd questions followed. “What is the most peculiar object you own?” “What is the name of your imaginary friend (past or present)?”
I answered as best I could. Just as I was writing, “My childhood imaginary friend was a car named Irod,” the woman removed the silver band from my arm.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I’m just finished with the readings. They’re necessary.”
“Am I allowed to know your name yet?” I asked.
“Norma,” she said.
“OK, thanks,” I said. “That helps.”
“This question here … ‘Have you ever experienced a moment outside of time?’ I just did, last night.” I described my encounter with Kron.
“Oh, really? The Zeta Reticulans are interested now? That’s interesting,” said Norma.
“Why?”
“You’re done with the form,” she told me. “Sign it and come with me. You can just leave it there. I’ll get it later.”
So I signed it and came with her, out into the hallway, and into the meeting hall.
Several people I didn’t know personally but remembered from the diner turned and waved, saying, “Hi, Jim!” or the like. I waved too, but I’d never learned their names. But standing up from the front row was Cheryl.
She turned toward the audience and said, “Norma, thanks for getting the formalities taken care of. Jim! It’s great that you’re with us now. Don’t get me wrong, I was fine with keeping this part of my life separate, but it looks as if fate had other ideas.”
“Yeah, looks like it,” I said, looking around. “Should I sit down, or …?”
“Oh! Yes, please,” said Cheryl. Norma had already found a seat. I sat down next to where Cheryl had been sitting. “Now, I’ve heard that you’ve already been contacted by one of the extraterrestrial civilizations we’re in communication with.”
“How did you …” I began, but I stopped myself. “Never mind.” They were in communication with the Order. That’s how they found out.
“Right,” said Cheryl. “The Zeta Reticulans. Tall, bald, black eyes, kind of grayish skin. But there are others. The Sirians, they’re an aquatic race, hard to describe, kind of like intelligent fish. The Plejarens, they’re the ones who we were talking about before, Jim. They’re the most humanoid of them in appearance, but they’ve got multiple factions – one faction staged a hostile invasion of Earth millennia ago, and the other faction defended us from them. Then there are the Potacas – they’re small, gray, no hair, big eyes, huge brains. They sort of look like short Zeta Reticulans, but they’re completely different; their systems of origin are nowhere near each other. Oh, and the Alpha Draconians – tall, reptilian, tend to be very aggressive, but don’t let that fool you; their scientists are equally aggressive seekers of knowledge.”
“Those are the ones we know about?” I asked.
“Those are the ones we have agreements with,” Cheryl explained. “There are several others, but they haven’t been to Earth enough times to make contact. They came, their science survey scanned our solar system, and they moved on. If they even bothered to land on Earth, they didn’t cause any problems.”
Norma added, “Most aliens have no reason to invade a planet. Resources? Anything they need they can get in space from asteroids or other planetoids – much more easily, because they’re not buried at the bottom of a huge gravity well. Food? Their biology is all laughably incompatible with ours and each other’s; everything’s poison to them, just as their biology’s poison to us. Slave labor? They can build starships that can travel faster than light; they can build all the robots they’ll ever need, and it’s far easier than it is to come all this way just to kidnap some humans. No, the ones who’ve made contact with us are here to trade – goods, knowledge, mutual protection.”
“Right,” said Cheryl. “The only reasons why aliens would bother to come all the way here and cause trouble are the same things that cause problems on Earth already: religion and politics. The Plejarens? One faction invaded Earth because of the political conflict they were having with the other faction. It’s all in their history. And these new ones, the Fanatics? They attack planets that they decide are anathema – against their religion.”
“So … do we know whether or not the Fanatics have decided we’re … anathema?” I asked.
“We know they haven’t decided,” said Cheryl. “We know because they haven’t gone away, and they haven’t started attacking either. And nobody who’s ever encountered them has any idea why they make the decision, either – they don’t seem more or less likely to attack when met with aggression, or when ignored. They’ve wiped out all life on planets whose inhabitants didn’t even notice they were there – and they’ve also completely skipped over planets that outright attacked them. And vice versa.”
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In a galaxy many thousands of light years removed from the Milky Way, a large planet that human scientists would have classified as a “super Earth” orbited well within the ‘Goldilocks Zone’ of its star. In turn it was orbited by many planetoid-based defense platforms.
Without any prior warning, hundreds of large battleships appeared between the defense stations and the planet, rendering the stations’ massive firepower useless. Alarms went off in every military base on and off the planet. None of them understood how this attacker had managed to get to those locations without perimeter alarms going off.
The planet wasn’t totally helpless; automated planetary defense networks took over. A massive weapons launch from the surface could be seen from orbit.
Those on board the defense platforms that survived the assault later told the scary tale of how each of the huge warships released what looked like swarms of glowing insects in the billions, then vanished as suddenly as they had arrived.
Those few missiles that managed to intercept one of the sparkly things would vanish in the strangest dematerialization imaginable. Needless to say, very few missiles made any kind of contact and flew uselessly away into the dark cold of space as the sparkly things moved off in a flash, and impacted the surface in many billions of locations simultaneously.
In total shocked fear, the defense stations had to brace themselves as the planet disappeared in a huge flash of some form of energy and waves of force buffeted them. Those that survived had to deal with the next problem, as the planet’s gravity, which had stabilized the stations’ orbits, suddenly vanished, leaving them drifting off into space. Some of them still had functioning drive systems; others didn’t.
Immediately an emergency distress war alert was sent out with a designation never seen before … the destruction of an entire planet by means unknown. The attacking parties were identified as … The Fanatics. All the known peoples were notified by their particular networks … and then came Earth.
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Cheryl and I were snuggling on the sofa and watching a decent sci-fi movie called “The Lost Pilot” when a rather insistent knock came at the door. I got up from my very comfortable place, went to the door, and turned on the porch spycam.
I could plainly see that we had several visitors from the Order, but there was one who more than stood out from the crowd. He had dressed to obscure his very purple skin and had his hat pulled low to hide the strange electronic devices attached to his skull.
I opened the door, keeping the steel chain locked in place, “Yes? What can I do for you tonight?”
One of the men, who wore an expensive tailored suit, said, “My name is Dr. Whingurd.” He indicated the very purple man, “And we call this fellow TROFF. The meaning is from an old version of the computer language BASIC. It means Trace Off. Which is why we’re here. We’re going to turn off whatever it is they did to you. We also have some rather disturbing news.”
One of the others, dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, asked, “Mind … if we come in? We do have a great deal to tell you.”
I invited them in and showed them to the chairs in our den. Of course Cheryl was on top of everything as she served drinks and snacks. To my total and utter amazement, she even had the perfect refreshment and snack for TROFF. I suspected that she’d known they were coming. After all, I was only an Initiate. She was probably a higher rank than me.
“Thank you, Mr. Gensher,” said Dr. Whingurd. “TROFF here is an expert in avoiding tracking technology. We’re only doing this now because it’s taken him this long to get to Earth.”
“nnnn pleased to meet you, nnnnn” said TROFF, with an odd drone before and after every statement he made. “nnnn please allow me to scan you so as to determine proper countermeasures, nnnn.”
“OK,” I said, standing still and holding my arms loosely out to my sides. He removed an odd pod-shaped device from a box, which made a soft humming sound, but I didn’t feel or see anything.
“nnnn I seee, nnnn,” said TROFF, “nnnn appears to be some kind of tyoon cha, nnnn, please sit down and allow me a few moments, nnnn.” He took other technology out of the container he carried and started attaching it to his purple fingers, gesturing at the pod, which hummed more.
“Sure,” I said, taking a chair.
“While he works, we’ve got to tell you something we heard from some of our Plejaren allies,” said Dr. Wingurd. “The Fanatics just destroyed a planet. We think they’ll be making a decision on Earth soon, but we’re very worried. This was a technologically advanced race, but they just walked past its defenses like they weren’t there.”
“The alien rumor mill is way faster than Earth’s,” said Cheryl, handing me a glass of water. I started to protest that I wanted a beer, but she said, “Time for that later. We don’t want anything in your system that could interfere with TROFF’s work.”
The one in the jeans and plaid shirt said, “I’m Shaun Flynn. I’ve been doing the analysis of the devices we’ve captured. There’s something I wanted to do once TROFF is done – I want you to wear something. It looks an earpiece, but it really interfaces with your brain and lets us communicate. Just in case they find you again.”
“You mean there’s a chance that Mr. TROFF here won’t be able to entirely prevent them from coming back?” I asked.
“We just want to cover all our bases,” said Flynn. “You’re the only point of contact we have at the moment. Other devices have been spotted elsewhere in the world, but it doesn’t seem they’ve scanned any other humans. Plenty of geological features, flora, and fauna, but mostly they’re scanning remote areas. I wish we knew what that meant.”
TROFF said, “nnnn I will now try to remove the marker from your protein structures, nnnn …” He pointed the pod at me and touched some of the glowing patches on his side of it. It hummed. I started feeling an itching sensation all over my skin.
After a few moments it had turned into a burning and was rapidly becoming more painful. “It’s … it’s burning! Burning!” The pain was excruciating.
TROFF said, “nnnn apologies nnnn … is necessary nnnn …” But the pain only got worse. It felt like I was being deep fried. It felt like I had been dunked into a vat of acid. It felt like I’d been dropped into a lake of molten lava. I’m sure I was screaming.
Then it stopped. TROFF replied, “nnnn apologies again, it is against my code of ethics to continue causing you suffering but the removal is only 20% complete nnnn … will have to do this in stages giving you time to recover nnnn … in the meantime you can help your Order learn about them nnnn …”
I was sweating and breathing hard. “Good Lord,” I said. “I have to do that again?”
“To put it in perspective,” said Dr. Whingurd, “if the Fanatics decide to destroy the Earth, everybody gets blown up. I guess that’ll hurt a lot more, but only for a short time, and then everybody dies.”
“I just have one question,” I said. “Do we have any idea why they pick some planets to destroy and not others?”
“No,” Dr. Whingurd replied. “To us the decision seems completely random. But there must be something of deep meaning to the Fanatics and their religion, about which we know very little. The amount of energy it takes to completely disperse the matter of an entire planet … imagine the constructive ends they could put that energy to, if they chose to do that instead.”
Flynn added, “They’ve destroyed completely barren, uninhabited planets with no atmosphere. They’ve also left planets like that alone after scanning them. They’ve destroyed planets that tried to resist – and they’ve also allowed them to continue to exist. That’s why we need to gather information, and fast. We need you to go out there and get yourself noticed by more of their probes. The earpiece should allow us to make contact with their probe’s computer in real time when one of them scans you.”
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Wearing that stupid ear piece was disorienting. Once it was placed in my ear, only then did they tell me it was a permanent connection and could not be removed. I felt this weird sensation as if something were crawling inside my head. Once all the feelings like ants crawling all through my head sensation went away I was delighted to discover I was in contact with someone … and the most unique thing, I didn’t have to say a word as my particular thoughts were transmitted. It amazed me to no end, but the piece actually could tell the difference between what I wanted others to share and private thoughts.
I didn’t learn what the small inconspicuous device was until that next morning when I had left the house to go to work. Cheryl and I had gotten into the car and I had just started it. I realized she was looking at it rather intensely.
“Supp?” I asked. “This comm device was given to me to keep everyone informed should I meet another probe.”
Cheryl snickered a bit, then replied, “That small device is far more than a communicator. What it is, is a new neural AI protection unit.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Of course it is. Now how about enlightening me just a bit on what exactly that is.”
As I backed out of the drive and moved slowly up the block, Cheryl explained, “It’s like this – communication is the least of its functions. It offers a rather formidable array of defensive and offensive weapons. I can’t go into real detail about the offense and defense part, because it’s based on you and your perceptions and …” She shrugged. “... however your imagination works. I can tell you this, you have an automatic shield mode and a form of telekinesis that will develop. It’s all interconnected by a hard neural genetic fiber, giving you 100% admin thought control over the system. Some of its actions can respond like reflexes before you even realize the necessity.”
“So now, I’m armed and dangerous …”
I never got to finish my smart-aleck response as the radio began to spaz out and smoke really badly. The car’s motor died as sparks began to fly under the hood. All the lights began to flash as the gauges jumped and flopped erratically. The car came to a stop, so I turned off the ignition and put it in park.
Cheryl didn’t seem to be fazed in the least as I saw her sitting calmly in the front seat with her compact open, powdering her nose.
Then an oblong thing with a sphere in the middle suddenly landed about two feet from me. I don’t recall the exact sequence of events, but from somewhere a purple beam flashed to the object, seemingly encasing it in some kind of force field. That didn’t happen until after a large amount of energy impacted the object just as the shield encased it. The huge explosion was contained within the force field and caused no damage. The force field then sublimated away like a mist.
I heard a voice in my head say, “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you had been neuralized. Do have a very safe day.”
Then it seemed someone left, although I saw nothing out of the ordinary but a huge black splatter mark on the ground where the probe had exploded. I went back to the car to find it in complete working order.
Cheryl asked, “Have fun playing with your new toy, dear? I know several of those sciencey types will love the scans your device took of the probe before you destroyed it.”
That was when Cheryl pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. I shook my head. Darn, if she didn’t have one too. I guess she knew about them firsthand. If Initiates got these, what did the higher ranks get? “What just happened?” I asked.
Cheryl replied, “From the look of things, one of the Order’s operatives who follow you around all the time didn’t know you had the implant and was in the process of neutralizing the probe when your device, well, neutralized it in a far more decisive way. Unfortunately, I doubt it got much of a glimpse at the the probe’s communications. I get the impression that our time is running out, so let’s hope another probe comes after you soon – normally that’s not a good thing, but you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I get it now,” I said. “I don’t have much to worry about from those things anymore, but I also should focus on not vaporizing it instantly so we can get intel.”
“Exactly,” she replied. “Now if you could drop me off at the Order hall, you can head to work.”
And that’s what happened. She and I both had work to do. It was frankly pretty hard to focus on my regular work duties in Accounts Receivable, but I managed to get through the day … and the moment I stepped out of the building another probe landed. “Jim! What the …” said a coworker, Frank, who saw the thing come down out of the sky right in front of me. “Is that some kinda UFO? Get away from it, it’s gonna … abduct you or somethin’!”
But it just blinked its lights and pointed its beam at me. I let it. I could hear a voice in my ear – it was Dr. Whingurd. He said, “That’s it – we’ve got contact! Riding the beam straight to its data core. And … we’re in. Intercepting communication now …” The beam shining on me was getting brighter, but it wasn’t painful – well, maybe a little, but I’d felt worse, a lot worse, and recently. “... Got it! OK, we’re done.” Now I could do whatever I wanted to it. I envisioned crushing it like a tin can … and darned if that wasn’t exactly what happened. The probe was just instantly crushed down to the size of a golf ball.
“Interesting,” said Dr. Whingurd’s voice. “As soon as nobody’s around, we’ll have an operative pick that up so nobody accidentally finds it.”
My coworker Frank was still shouting. “What the hell? Are you OK? What happened? It looked like it was probing you!”
I mimicked coming out of some kind of trance. “... What? Huh? What happened? Frank? Did you see what happened? I … don’t really remember …”
Frank said, “You don’t remember? There was some kinda alien UFO thing probing you with a beam of super-bright light!”
“I’m sorry … I guess I just kind of … got distracted …”
“Distracted? Oh man! It did some kind of hypnosis amnesia beam on you so you don’t remember! Dang it! You know what this means, don’t you? I won’t be able to tell anybody about this, because you don’t remember, so I’m the only one who knows! That means they’ll be after me now. I’m gonna have to, you know, watch the skies and stuff.”
“I … guess?” I said to Frank, feigning still being out of it. “Whatever just happened … I feel dizzy and stuff. I gotta get home! I need some food. And a beer.”
Frank was looking up, not down, so he didn’t see the golf-ball-sized remains of the probe lying there in the grass by the parking lot. “Yeah … I need a beer too … oh jeez, not again … why am I always the only one who sees these things?”
That made me smile inwardly … now I was the one who knew, and I was betting Frank had either seen alien visits the Order fully knew about, or he’d misinterpreted other things as UFOs. But at any rate, I had to get out of there, and I had to get him out of there. “See you, Frank … look, it was probably nothing, all right?”
“Nothing! Sure!” he said. “But yeah, let’s get outta here. See you tomorrow.”
Once I was in the car, I sat there for a moment. Frank drove away. I saw someone come around the building, look at me, flash me an Order hand sign that I’d learned about, and capture the crushed probe in some kind of metal container. Then I drove to the Order hall and went inside when I got there.
The greeter nodded to me when I entered. “Mr. Gensher,” he said. “Your wife will be right here.” And, sure enough, that moment she came out from behind the curtains.
“Jim!” said Cheryl. “They told me they got lots of data. They’re still processing it. They’ve sent it to our allies, too. We’ll figure this out. We have to.”
“Jeez, I hope so,” I said. “If these Fanatics or whatever can blow up planets just as easily as I crushed that probe, well, what happens if they decide Earth is … what’s the word, anathema?” We left the building, knowing that we could speak freely inside, but now that we were out, we had to be careful what we said.
“Then they’ll be coming here in one of their giant ships and …” She paused and looked up. “Oh no.”
The thing didn’t look that big. But it was the size of the Moon in the early evening sky, only the Moon wasn’t out. The light of the Sun gleamed off its shiny metal angles. “Uh …” I said. “That’s … not good, is it?”
“No …” she said. “Wait, what’s going on?” We were suddenly both somewhere else, both Cheryl and myself.
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“Declaim,” said a voice with a strange accent. We were in a room full of white light. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction. Cheryl was next to me, but I couldn’t see far beyond her. We stood on some kind of floor, but it was also white.
“What?” I asked.
“Declaim what?” asked Cheryl.
“Declaim your convictions,” the voice said.
“Oh, I think I understand!” Cheryl said. “They must pick someone as the representative of a world, and if they like what they say, they don’t destroy it. If they don’t it’s anathema time.”
“What about planets that are barren of life?” I asked.
“Maybe they try to communicate with the rocks?” she suggested. “Some believe that rocks have a form of life. Maybe their religion has that belief.”
“What’s ‘declaim’ mean?” I asked.
I thought Cheryl was going to answer me, but instead the voice, coming from somewhere I couldn’t see, replied, “Expound upon your beliefs. Explain. Be impassioned and convincing. You must believe in something. What is it?”
“Uh, I believe people should be good to each other,” I said, “and, you know, do unto others what you would have them do unto you.”
“Generic!” the voice replied. “You must believe something more deeply nuanced than that. I am unimpressed.”
“I believe people have a right to self-determination!” said Cheryl. “Make their own decisions, deal with their own consequences!”
“Silence!” said the voice. “The marked one must answer.”
“That must be me,” I said to Cheryl. “Look, I believe I’m here for a reason, and I don’t mean just here in this place, I mean here in this life. I believe there’s some reason why circumstances have put me here today, whether there’s some higher power or supreme being or creator … someone or something has a plan.”
“Still very generic,” the voice said. “State your beliefs, and make me believe!”
So they wanted some kind of sermon? “Look, long ago there was a man, and nobody knows his name, but he was the first rebel, because there was another man who wanted him not to do something. Not to be who he was, not to do what he had to do to survive, whatever. This second guy, he was the first bully. The bully said, ‘You’re in my way, so get outta here!’ But the rebel said, ‘No, I have as much right to be here as you do. What gives you the right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do or be like? Nothing.’ The bully said, ‘But here you are, telling me what I can and can’t do. You’re just the same as me, so I have just the same right to tell you what to do.’ And do you know what the rebel said?”
“What did he say?” the voice asked.
I replied, “He said, ‘No! We’re not the same at all. You could have chosen to leave me alone. You could have made the choice to coexist. I was minding my own business. You weren’t. This conflict didn’t exist until you created it. I didn’t. We are not the same.’ And you! What right do you have to go around judging planets where no one’s ever even heard of you? You have your religion, but we have ours – we have a lot of them, actually. We weren’t in anyone’s way, let alone yours. What makes you –”
“The Supreme Power of the Universe saw fit to give us this role,” said the voice, deep and reverberating. “If it had not considered us its chosen people, why would it have empowered us to make this choice? If it did not want us to judge the worlds of this universe, why has it not stopped us? If it did not want us to pass judgment, why did it lead us on a path of destiny that has brought us here? It could have chosen otherwise. Yet this is the role it has chosen for us.”
“This sounds like some kinda philosophy,” I said. “I’m not a philosopher. All I know is …”
Just then a crackling voice came through on my implant device. “... jamming signal … hard to get through … keep them talking … we need more time …”
I went on, “... uh, you have big spaceships and weapons and all that, but why does that make you superior in any other way? Wouldn’t the most morally superior civilization in the universe be the one with the fewest weapons and the most compassion? In fact, wouldn’t it be the one that cared the least about being the most morally superior civilization and cared the most about what it could do for others? You’d probably destroy them, in fact, which would only prove that they were morally superior to you.”
“We have met such civilizations,” said the voice, “and some we have let exist, and some we have destroyed, as the Supreme Power commanded it.”
“Commanded it?” I asked. “You actually have a telephone line to God? What, does God send you emails telling you which planets to blow up and which ones to leave alone? Excuse me, but I don’t believe you.” Was it a good idea to make them angry? Was it even possible to make them angry?
“When the Supreme Power puts us in a circumstance to do so,” said the voice, “we do so.”
I wasn’t understanding something. “What does that mean? A circumstance to do so?”
“The Supreme Power guides our actions,” the voice said, “and with its commands it chooses what we shall do. Thus it decrees the fate of those whose destiny it is to be judged.”
This was confusing. However, Cheryl had been awfully quiet, and it sounded like, on Earth, something else was going on … what did they need more time for?
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Back at the location the Order of the Pyramid used as their headquarters, things had become a madhouse. It was now verified that Earth was the Fanatics’ next target if Cheryl and I couldn’t convince them otherwise. Thank goodness we both had neural implants, allowing the Order to get at least some idea what was going on in the Fanatic spaceship we’d been transported to, although there was a lot of interference. Ordinary human technology couldn’t interfere with the implants, but the Fanatics were clearly more advanced.
The good news was that for the first time, they had the actual comm methods and frequencies and the exact protein configuration the Fanatics had tagged me with.
The Potacas had come up with a weird device that somehow folded time and space into a neat little package that was more than able to be used as a permanent prison.
Cheryl was cool as ice while I was as nervous as a cat in the middle of a dog show. That was probably because I was the one in the hot seat; the Fanatics weren’t talking to Cheryl, probably because I was the first human they’d seen and thus one they they’d tagged.
“But wait,” I said to the Fanatics’ spokes-voice, “doesn’t that mean that you just basically do whatever you want, and if it works, that means the Supreme Power must have approved? Isn’t that a bit … convenient?”
“Of course that is not how we decide,” said the voice. “The Supreme Power’s commandments are the basis for all our decisions.”
“Oh,” I said, “you didn’t say there were commandments. When did it give you those?”
Cheryl leaned close and whispered, “Don’t be scared, and more importantly, if you are scared … don’t let them know about it.”
As the voice of the Fanatics told me all about how the Supreme Power had given commandments to their people via one of their legendary prophets long ago, Cheryl took me by the arm and pulled me with far greater strength than I ever thought she had over into one side of the brightness. How she knew it had a side, I don’t know. Once we’d moved in that direction, we passed through a bright white curtain of light. On the other side, the lighting was normal and looked a whole lot like some type of auditorium of some sort. The Fanatics didn’t seem to care that we’d moved and went right on debating with me.
“OK, I gotcha,” I said. “So the prophet Tk’quor spoke with the Supreme Power and wrote down the rules or at least guidelines by which you live your lives and go around judging planets by.” I deliberately got some things wrong, to keep them talking. I’d rather they think I’m stupid and not destroy the Earth than think I’m brilliant and blow it up. The voice started correcting me.
Cheryl pulled me to the nearest wall and began running her hand all along it in a wave pattern. For an instant I thought she’d lost her mind until a door mercurially appeared between us – it was like the wall melted or otherwise became liquid metal and just flowed away from one area, leaving an opening. She immediately pulled me through the opening into the outside hall. The light was white and everywhere; there were no shadows, but at least it wasn’t blindingly bright here.
I said to her, “Wait a minute here, I’m seriously confused.” I don’t think I’d have been able to talk to her without the Fanatics thinking I was talking to them if it weren’t for the neural implant. I think it blocked my contact to them when I thought about talking to Cheryl.
Cheryl replied, “Good, be as confused as you wish, except for this basic thing – follow me close, and don’t show fear.”
I said, “Sweetie, how can you know where to go? You’ve been on one of these before?”
She said as she pulled me into another one of those magical doors, “Yeah, I … kinda have? I’ll explain later. But that’s not how I know where we’re going.”
My eyebrows rose. “OK, so how, then?”
She turned for an instant and brushed a lock of her hair back. I saw the device in her right ear, then she let the hair go and proceeded off to the far wall and found another door. She motioned me over. I quickly entered the small room, and the door mercurially reappeared.
She said in a strange voice and language, “Bharakata.” The door vanished, and Cheryl pulled me out into a room I don’t have the mental proclivities to describe; it was so advanced beyond my experiences.
She immediately went to this weird panel and started doing things. She looked around at me and said, “I do need just a wee bit of help, if you don’t mind. If you need instruction, ask your interface. It will respond to you.”
To my utter surprise, I found a companion who was more than knowledgeable about far more things than I could hope to think about. Within my mind in a way I could make no mistakes, I was shown and even given certain skills I didn’t have before I asked.
Cheryl and me programmed the travel device and enabled it. We vanished in a swirl of colorful mist just as several bi-pedal creatures, or perhaps robots – I only got a brief glimpse of them – dashed into the room brandishing what was obviously some type of weapon.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” I said as we disappeared, “but are you sure it’s the will of the Supreme Power that you’re following?”
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We saw a brief glimpse of the interior of what must have been a Zeta Reticulan spaceship, because it was populated by a number of the tall, bald, aliens with the large black eyes. But that was quickly replaced by a glimpse of a different spacecraft populated by tall people who looked like humans, all of them light-skinned and with light-colored hair. And then that was replaced again by yet another spaceship interior; this one was full of small aliens with large black eyes. These looked just like the Zeta Reticulans, but they didn’t wear clothes and had no obvious sex characteristics.
They spoke to each other in their own language, and our implants somehow translated it. “Excellent, you got our message,” said the nearest one. This spaceship was all metal and glass, or so it appeared. The aliens who were apparently operating things stood before glass walls within which glowing symbols, graphs, images, and control panels were displayed in colored light.
“I got enough of it that I could piece together the rest,” said Cheryl. “The Order got you, the Zeta Reticulans, and the Plejarans to relay us far away from the Fanatics’ ship.” Out the viewscreens, which seemed to form the entire exterior of the ship in all directions, I could see what was probably the Sun, but it was small and tiny.
“But we’ve got to save Earth!” I said. “I guess we’re far away from it, so if they blow it up we’ll be OK, but I don’t want them to do that!”
“Neither do we,” said the alien we were talking to. “But they will assume you transported back to Earth and will start scanning for the protein signature with which they marked you. It will take them time to realize that you are nowhere on the planet. You are in fact on the far side of the planet you call Neptune from them; it shields you from their detection for now.”
“These people are the Potacas,” said Cheryl, “or at least one group of them. I don’t know why we humans have the tendency to think that all the Potacas have the same opinion or agenda; it’s not as if all humans do.”
“How can I understand them and yet still know they’re speaking a different language …?” I wondered.
“It’s the neural implant,” she said. “It’s translating for you. The Order’s in contact with the Potacas too, and we’ve programmed their language into the implant along with the others.”
“How did Kron talk to me before I got the implant, then?” I asked, realizing this.
She replied, “Some have translation devices of their own, some use telepathy, and some just learn English.”
I wondered, “So why are we here? They just already had a spaceship in the area?”
“Pretty much,” Cheryl replied.
The alien who had been speaking interjected, “There is also another reason.”
“There is?” Cheryl and I both asked, at about the same time.
“Yes. I am Captain Krchikjik, by way of introduction. I am told that you are Initiate Jim and Journeyman Architect Cheryl.”
Cheryl replied, “Yes.”
But I said, “Whoa, Journeyman Architect, I didn’t know you were that high up there.”
“It’s not that high up,” said Cheryl, blushing.
“At any rate,” said Krchikjik, “it was very interesting that they wanted to talk to you. Neither we nor anyone we have ever discussed the Fanatics with have ever heard of such a thing happening – but then, the Fanatics always appear in a system, linger for a time period, and then either destroy a planet or leave. The transportation of a single being aboard their ship was never of note – it was such an insignificant phenomenon beside the appearance of a giant spacecraft, and certainly compared to the destruction of an entire planet. Could it be that they always do this? Do they always select some individual, engage in some interaction, and from that choose their course of action?”
“That’s what it seems like, from what they said,” I told him. “Can I play back the discussion I had with them? Now that there’s no interference?”
“Ah, yes, your neural implant,” said the alien. “As I understand them, you can will it to play back the recording. Umakjik, prepare the computer to receive the transmission.”
“Yes, Captain,” said another alien, gesturing at the glass panel in front of him. Symbols and images moved upon on it.
After our experience had been played back and the Potacas had examined it, Krchikjik said, “Yes, it seems that they choose one individual representative, be it an intelligent being or a mineral, and interact in some way. What do they look for?”
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Some of the greatest minds in our local cosmic neighborhood gathered virtually at the Omega Quantum Data storage facility of the High Chambers of the Coalition. All the knowledge of all the species belonging to the coalition of peaceful races of this arm of the Milky Way were archived there and very well protected.
In a comfortably-appointed cyberspace sat the virtual avatars of each species’ representative, along with that of the operations AI system. All the newest data that Cheryl and I had retrieved had been uploaded. After several minutes of seeming inactivity, the AI’s green optics light came on, and it said, “After correlating all the data within the archives with the new data just assimilated, we have an urgent need to discover what this fabled prophet of their religion actually said. Somehow it is more probable there is an error in the many centuries of repetition, and they are not following the direct edicts of their prophet. However … it is also possible that they are indeed following that prophet’s exact words. Considering that some religions were created to establish power and control over their people, it is far from unlikely that this prophet was merely exploiting their own people at a vulnerable time.”
The Potacas volunteered to send one of their older and more expendable battle cruisers, one of the almost derelicts. The plan was to equip the ship with an autonomous AI controlled guidance system as well as the new dimensional trap they had developed, hoping to entrap as many of the Fanatics’ ships as possible within the interdimensional force field before they could attack Earth. They seemingly hadn’t done so yet … perhaps they were debating amongst themselves about what I had said.
The Alpha Draconians began attempting to find the actual commandments that had created the Fanatics. They used some of the most fantastic kinds of equipment in their research.
According to some of their groundbreaking research, they had discovered almost everything that happens creates a magnetic field that somehow affects matter and energy on a quantum level. This in turn acts like the laser in one of many recording devices, setting up certain harmonic vibrations and making a readable record of the event. Reading this, though, required analysis technology so advanced that most of the known peoples think of it as magic.
The Alpha Draconians proved over many years their uncanny ability to discover things hidden to all others using this technique. No one was positive they could discover anything useful about the Fanatics, considering that, according to theory, it had been many centuries since the prophet Tk’quor had had his mythic meeting with the Supreme Power. A dozen scientists from many other species attentively made adjustments as they slowly tuned in each localized frequency before expanding their search.
All of the scientists were astounded at the data that had been permanently recorded in the quantum field that permeated the universe. It took time to search, especially since this exploration was well beyond anything they had ever attempted and the data stored was technically universal in size since every moment since creation had been recorded and archived.
But they had faith that it could work, since this Supreme Power, whatever it had been, must have been truly vast in its scope, considering the Fanatics called it what they called it. Its doings, whatever they were, must have been truly universe-shaking.
Cheryl and I just waited in our quarters we’d been given aboard the Potaca ship. Captain Krchikjik and his crew kept us informed about what was going on, and we were able to contact the Order back on Earth via our neural implants, though the speed of light was an issue. It was like sending email, if it took that email four hours to get to Earth and four hours to reply. Fortunately the Potacas had faster means of communication, somehow, so we heard immediately when the Fanatics’ ship started moving toward Earth.
My heart sank. “No,” I said. “They can’t. They can’t blow it up.”
“Now our plan goes into action,” said Captain Krchikjik. “The AI-controlled ship is already moving.” We watched on their tactical display, which gathered information from many different ships and sensors, as the derelict Potaca battle cruiser moved to intercept and activated the interdimensional trap.
As expected, the derelict ship itself was caught in the trap as well, but it did catch the largest and second largest Fanatic ships, locking them up for the time being. In confusion, the rest of the Fanatic ships milled about, receiving no instructions from their commanding officer, who had been trapped within the force field with his ship.
“Looks like that bought Earth some time,” I said.
“They’ll try to regroup,” replied Cheryl.
“Maybe some opportunity will come along …”
“We have it!” came the reptilian face of an Alpha Draconian, appearing on the viewscreen in the Potaca ship’s bridge. “We’ve found the original conversation between what we think is one of the Fanatics and what we think is their Supreme Power. But you won’t believe this … the Fanatics are organic machines, computers built with organic technology by some even older race. And the Supreme Power they worship as a god is … well, we still don’t know exactly what it is or was. But we’ve got the message. We’re trying to translate it from their language into the language we use today, because if we can, then we can translate it into any of our languages. The translation is running now …”
The Potaca ship’s bridge was silent as everyone waited to hear what it was. Unfortunately, Cheryl and I wouldn’t get to find out. Suddenly everything went oddly white again, and we were apparently again aboard a Fanatic ship.
“What? What’s happening?” I asked.
“You thought to evade us,” said the Fanatics’ voice. It was indistinguishable from the one I’d heard last time. “You thought we would not find you. Why are you trying to escape from us? You are the most honored of your people, as you are the chosen one, privileged to speak to us, the emissaries of the Supreme Power’s will.”
“You still kidnapped me against my will, twice now,” I said. “Is that not a crime where you come from? I guess you’re not that concerned about it, since you think blowing up planets and murdering billions of intelligent life forms is just fine. Compared to that, I suppose kidnapping is basically nothing.”
The voice replied, “But we must do the Supreme Power’s will. We are commanded to do so.”
I replied, “Are you commanded, or are you programmed? You’re basically organic computers, right?”
“Aren’t you?” asked the voice. “Isn’t that control nexus within your head basically an organic computer?”
Cheryl interrupted, “Excuse me, but only in the most general of ways are human brains and what you use even remotely similar.”
“We are here only to speak with the Chosen One,” said the voice. “But granted, only in the most general sense are our thought mechanisms similar. Still, we are not programmed with our beliefs. We are taught them by our parents via communication. Some choose not to believe. They become philosophers, or plintrak farmers, or some other role in our society. We believers become those who execute the Supreme Power’s will.”
I suddenly heard a voice in my head – a different voice, I mean. It was Captain Krchikjik. “My apologies, Jim, but I believe it may be helpful for me to inform you what the Alpha Draconians have managed to translate from the ‘conversation’ between the Supreme Power and the being of the Fanatics’ race known today as the Prophet Tk’quor. It’s something like this …” And he told me.
I told the voice of the Fanatics, “You will destroy the unlucky and allow the lucky to live.”
“What?”
“That’s what your Prophet Tk’quor told you was the will of the Supreme Power, wasn’t it?” I told the voice.
“I mean … that is one interpretation …”
“But that’s not what the Supreme Power actually told your Prophet, is it?” I interrupted. “Because the Supreme Power was a supermassive black hole. The Prophet got too close to it, and his ship was struck by a chunk of debris and knocked dangerously near. It was only by the most massive stroke of luck that it was struck again by a different chunk of debris into an orbit that slingshotted around it and allowed them to boost away. If anything had gone wrong, Tk’quor wouldn’t have returned that day. And he didn’t actually talk to anything except in the most philosophical or poetic sense.”
“How … how have you learned this?” asked the voice.
I replied, “That’s not important right now. What’s important is that all this time, you’ve been blowing up planets because they didn’t get lucky enough that your planet-destroying weapons didn’t misfire or jam that day. You’ve been picking up one person, or plant, or rock, at random, because the first thing you pick is obviously the most lucky and is therefore the Chosen One. The Supreme Power of the Universe … is random chance.”
“Not precisely,” said the voice. “It’s being seemingly favored by random chance.”
“So you admit it,” I said. “Tk’quor didn’t talk to any Supreme Power. They interpreted what happened to them as if they had.”
“But only the most deeply initiated can learn of –”
“Save it,” I interrupted. “So you can only learn the real truth once you’ve been indoctrinated into the false story about what never happened?”
“I – well –”
“You’re not the same one I talked to before, are you?” I asked. “They’re locked up in a force field. You’re not so closed-minded that you can’t think, are you? You can still learn to make your own decisions. How about you don’t destroy any more planets?”
“Uh … well, I am the ranking cleric of the expeditionary force now … and you have shown really extraordinary luck …” The voice sounded the same as ever, only more hesitant.
“Exactly. So, please, spare the Earth and, really, maybe blowing up planets isn’t the best use of your truly incredible technology,” I editorialized.
“I … I’m not sure I can stay with the priesthood anymore,” the voice said. “Perhaps I should become a philosopher.”
I said, “Here’s something else to bake your casseroles; has it occurred to you how lucky we are based on the fact you have lost your command ship and its supporting ship? I mean, hey, those are only the two most powerful and largest ships with your entire senior command structure.”
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Without warning, Cheryl and myself found ourselves once again on the Potaca ship’s bridge amid a hugely surprised crew. The screens that depicted the happenings with the Fanatics showed the remaining free ships assumed some sort of parking location stationary to the relative motion of the universe around them.
The two large captured ships were still contained within the force field. The Draconians began to hem and haw at the prospect of releasing the force field. I wouldn't find out until later why.
To the best all the current scans could determine, the Fanatic ships had powered down to the point that sensors had a difficult time detecting power emanations. Scans for life signs were, as usual for the Fanatics, inconclusive; we now knew that was because they were a form of self-replicating organic technology – alive by some definitions, not by others.
Rapidly, but cautiously, many warships closed on the parked Fanatic ships. All readings indicated that their ships were in a completely powered down condition. Even at close range, life sign readings were inconclusive.
The Zeta Reticulans’ extremely large and well equipped cosmic dreadnaught battalion approached and surrounded the Fanatic ships. The free peoples of this arm of the galaxy had sent one of the most formidable fleet of ships ever constructed, but it seemed this was extreme overkill. After many scans, even the most paranoid of the Alpha Draconians dismissed the notion that this was some sort of trap.
Very shortly after all the scans had been analyzed, the decision was made to attempt boarding. The large, well armored, and armed force sent for boarding could be plainly seen on the forward viewscreen.
Force was unnecessary, as an entrance was quickly found and accessed without issue. Many of the Fanatics were found everywhere – conglomerations of geometric shapes made of stiff wood-like substances with embedded metal bits. They weren’t dead. Quick scans could determine nothing else. A specimen body was retrieved within a biohazard containment capsule and brought to the main science facility for more study.
“I suppose there’s no further need to hide out here,” said Captain Prchkjik. “Commander Rpshk, set course for Earth orbit.”
“Yes, Captain,” said another Grey, “Lieutenant, inform me when the course is ready …” The crew prepared to take us home.
“Does this mean that Earth is safe?” I asked as we watched the Greys go about their business on the bridge.
“I think so, for now,” said Cheryl. “Good job there. You kind of just saved Earth.”
“Well, I had a lot of help,” I said. “The Order, a coalition of different alien civilizations …”
“That’s true, but in the end it all came down to you,” Cheryl said. “Sounds like somebody might get a promotion.”
“Ah, well, that’s not why I …”
The captain came over to inform us, “Greetings, Jim and Cheryl. We are now under way toward Earth and should be there within one of your … ‘hours,’ I believe it is called.” Sure enough, looking out the ubiquitous viewscreens, we could see ourselves in motion relative to the planets, especially nearby Neptune, which soon wouldn’t be nearby anymore.
Cheryl replied, “Thank you, Captain, and an hour is approximately half a tznilk.”
“Ah, I thought I remembered correctly,” the captain said. “Under an hour, then. Would you care to hear some music? A game of rzinklo-mning?”
“Can we play an alien game?” I asked. “Wait, it’s just a board game, or something, right? Nobody dies if they lose?”
The captain laughed. “No, luckily there will be no deaths today! Follow me.” And he showed us how to play a Grey board game in which the winner collected the most data and samples from the planets in the sector. The captain won, of course, because I had never seen the game before, and Cheryl said she hadn’t, but I didn’t know.
By the time we were done with the game, we were drawing close to Earth. The first officer was ensuring that orbital insertion went smoothly.
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All the peaceful peoples of the galaxy immediately converged on the parked and powered down Fanatic ships. It amazed all who actually saw one of the ... I would suppose they would be bio-robotic forms. They were in no sense humanoid nor could biosciences determine they were anything more than some form of synthetic biological cells containing some metallic components. Had they been engineered by some other species in the distant past? Nobody could say.
The Zeta Reticulans, being more exploratory and enjoying scientific discovery, did their very best to trace them back to their planet of origin. If that particular place could be located, perhaps they could determine who it was that constructed the Fanatics and the actual purpose. Regardless, the discovery of what they were actually like, along with the fact that most members of their species were in fact peaceful and not religious fanatics, revolutionized the galactic landscape.
Deciphering the recordings was extremely difficult, because their language was unrelated to anything else, and so much time had passed that they had degraded severely. From what they could translate, it seemed that many of the species’ original planetary systems had a large black hole very nearby. But the legend had said a supermassive black hole … could their original homeworld be near the center of the galaxy? Or perhaps even the center of a different galaxy?
The location had yet to be determined, but it was quite a letdown when they discovered records suggesting that the real reason why the Fanatics had been created was originally as a party joke that had managed to self-replicate. If true, with the species ultimately becoming a major galactic issue, this could be the most destructive party prank in galactic history.
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The Potacas, meanwhile, beamed us down into our local Order chapter’s building. “So, we’re back on Earth finally,” I said to Cheryl. “The Order has a room just for beaming down?” I looked around. It was a pretty featureless room, with a tile floor and bare walls painted a neutral off-white.
Cheryl took my arm and steered me to the doors. “The first thing we do is get out,” she said. “Then we talk, and … whatever else. The room has to be empty in case someone else beams in right after. We try to make sure they contact us for permission beforehand, but they don’t all always remember to.”
“Whatever else, huh?” I asked her. “Does that mean …”
“Congratulations, Jim and Cheryl!” said Norma, uncharacteristically enthusiastically. “Jim, you have just saved the planet Earth from, well, complete and utter destruction, to put it simply. There are now billions of people who owe you their lives and will never know it. But the point is that we know it, and we’re everywhere. So, two things. First, we’ll be promoting you to Ethereal Operative. Let’s hope you won’t have to save the world again anytime soon, but this means we might need you to investigate strange happenings, on Earth or otherwise. You know those people who were catching the Fanatic probes before they could scan you again? They’re Ethereal Operatives. Expect a big ceremony at the next meeting. Also, you’re getting a medal.”
“Hey, congrats, Jim!” said Cheryl, hugging me. “That’s great!”
Norma turned to Cheryl. “Oh, and also, for your support work during this incident, you’re being promoted from Journeyman to Master Architect. Expect to be working with the next level of alien tech. Also expect a ceremony. And a medal.”
“Everybody loves medals,” Cheryl told me.
“Hey, who doesn’t love a medal?” I said, trying to be nonchalant, but inwardly I was wondering what my life was now. So I went back to accounting work, except when I had to go investigate some strange site on an alien planet?
“Just letting you know to be ready on Sunday,” Norma said. “That’s it, you can go.”
“Let’s get something to eat,” said Cheryl. “How about some totally normal Earth food?” All I’d eaten lately were some synthetic chewable food sticks generated by the Potacas’ spaceship after scanning our body chemistry to determine our raw nutritional needs. They’d tasted like chalk. “Triangle Diner’s open.”
“Normal food with a side of secret society sauce?” I asked. But sure. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t well and truly an insider now.
No sooner had we set food in the Triangle Diner than everyone stood up and applauded, except for one couple at a corner table who looked extremely confused. They must occasionally get nonmembers who think it’s just a regular diner, after all. We were ushered to a table immediately and brought exactly what we would have ordered anyway, if we’d looked at menus. Did this place even have menus?
Well, my life had gotten stranger than I could imagine. I didn’t know what would happen next. But that’s another story.
---------------------------------------- THE END ----------------------------------------
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