Extraterrestrial Refugees

“I need not remind you all how earthlings have reacted to previous attempts to make contact with them,” Clarence said. He stood at the end of a long, narrow oval table. Behind him was the control station of the vessel and a group of operators sitting and standing in front of monitors. Gemma was seated to Clarence’s right. Clarence tapped a small screen he wore on his wrist. The entire table illuminated with hundreds of news articles—videos, headlines, images, old newspapers and magazines—all documenting what were referred to as UFO sightings and extraterrestrial phenomena that could not be explained. Gemma, arms folded and elbows planted on the table, did not bother to look down at the screen. She, like the others, had seen it all dozens of times.

Some earthlings were crazy fanatics. They wanted to be abducted like Elvis supposedly was. Although the Tetranese had no affiliation with that particular incident, the artist’s music had become quite popular back on Tetra. Other people longed to fly among the stars, but failed the NASA Astronaut Corps. Some considered the “aliens” to be gods and believed they possessed mystical powers and abilities.

The Tetranese did not worry about any of those people—it was the hostile ones who concerned them. The paranoid ones. The fearful ones. They were the ones who often overreacted and responded with violence. They spoke with weapons instead of words. They had managed to shoot down a few mission ships, claiming they had been a threat to their national security. When it was not the bodies of green, giant-headed Martians they found among the wreckages, but rather, humans who looked just like them, great lengths were taken to cover it all up. The scientists working at the infamous classified military base called Area 51 were stumped when the DNA results could not be linked to any ethnicity records in their database. All the secrecy spawned an onslaught of conspiracy theories. In the end, any suspicious activity tended to be blamed on the Russians.

“As you know, we will be landing in a remote desert in the state of New Mexico,” Clarence continued. A picture of an aerial view of a barren landscape appeared on the table. Where to land on Earth had been a decades-long debate. The two main factors that were taken into consideration were: Who would be most likely to accept them? And, where would there be ample space?

Historic events aided in the decision made. Most agreed the country of Germany was likely to best receive them, as they had welcomed refugees with open arms in the recent past. However, the country was already densely populated and too close to particular neighboring countries who seemed less likely to welcome them.

The GPS coordinates of their landing site appeared on the tabletop. “Gemma, you will provide them with these exact coordinates. There are to be no surprises. We will be completely open with them.”

“They’ll know exactly where to send the welcome party,” Commander Barkley, a gruff man with big hands grunted. He was the only military personnel onboard Fortuna, brought onto the team as the defense specialist, though Gemma sometimes wondered if he wouldn’t prefer being the offense specialist; such a position did not exist. Barkley shook his head. “I still think it’s a terrible idea. What if they attack? They likely will. History has proven that. We are unarmed.”

“A fact that we will also be apparent about,” Clarence said. “The last thing we want to do is have them thinking we are a threat. Are you not confident in the defense mechanisms your team has developed and installed on this and the other vessels?”

“I am,” Barkley answered. “Nonetheless—”

“Commander Barkley, you have studied the earthlings’ weaponry just as extensively, if not more extensively, than I have, true?”

“True.”

“Then you know as well as I that they have only one weapon that would potentially be strong enough to penetrate our shields.”

Barkley opened his mouth to speak, but Clarence continued.

“You also know they would be very hesitant to use such a weapon as it would likely also be devastating to the surrounding area and greatly frowned upon by much of the world.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent, then we shall move on from the subject.”

Barkley folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. Clarence stared at him for a few intense seconds.

“Perhaps all of us need a reminder that we are not here to colonize, but to cohabitate. Yes, our weapons are far superior to any that they have here. Taking over the entire planet with violence has always been a viable option. But, it is not the right one.”

When they first discovered Earth over two-hundred years ago, taking over the entire planet would have been a breeze. The Earthlings would not have stood even the slightest chance. The Tetranese people could have fled their planet long before it was destroyed, but they did not want to. They had hoped against all hope until the very last minute that their predictions were somehow wrong and that their own home would be miraculously spared. To them, Earth was not some treasure to be won, but rather a last resort; a place of refuge in their desperateness.

****

US secretary of defense Charles Sampson slammed the phone down into its receiver. “Oscar!” he hollered. He cleared his throat and called the name again. The office door cracked open a few seconds later.

“You called me?” a young man asked, poking his head through the door. His skin was a pale brown and his hair, cut short, was thick and black. His eyes were a warm brown; they were framed with a pair of bronze-rimmed glasses. He stroked the thin, black tie he wore around his neck.

“Yes. Come in, Oscar.” Charles raised his hand and gestured for the man to enter. Oscar did so, closing the door behind him. He took a few timid steps toward Charles’ desk, stroking the crimson tie that hung from his neck. Charles pointed at the phone. “I tried using the intercom, but it didn’t work.”

“Oh, all communications are down, sir,” Oscar explained. “I was actually just about to come tell you that.” His heart raced. He was fairly new to his position working in the Pentagon—just a few months in—and already he was facing a massive threat to the country’s security.

“All communications are down? Good grief, my good man, that is a serious threat to our Nation’s security. Why wasn’t I informed sooner?” Charles pushed himself up from his seat.

“It only happened three minutes ago. I was talking to the tech team—”

“Do they know the cause?” Charles interrupted. He was a burly and intimidating man. His solemn eyes and battle-scarred face demanded respect.

“They hadn’t figured it out yet, as of two minutes ago,” Oscar said. He pointed at the door behind him with his thumb. “Should I go see if there are any updates?”

The door flew open and a middle-aged man marched in. “We’ve been hacked!” he exclaimed, exasperated. Charles’ face remained stiff and emotionless, whereas Oscar’s brows shot up, causing his forehead to transform into a sea of wrinkles.

“Has the White House been informed?” Charles asked.

“Kind of impossible to do when… Is your computer on?” The man strode behind Charles’ desk. “Oh, good—they haven’t gotten to yours yet. Turn it off immediately!” Just as he was reaching out to press the power button, the monitor turned blue. Bold, white letters appeared on the screen: Broadcast beginning in 5…4…

“Wait!” Charles snapped, sweeping the man’s hand away from the computer.

“Sir, every second they’re in the system risks even more data being breeched. I insist we—”

“We might as well find out who our hackers are at this point, right?”

“Sir, this could just be a distraction.”

The face of a fair woman appeared on the screen. Oscar walked slowly around the desk and joined Charles and the IT man in staring at the monitor; he adjusted his glasses, pushing them further up his nose. The woman’s blue eyes were piercing and intelligent. She stood with poise, dressed in an elegant navy gown that flowed to the floor. Behind her was a wall of windows, and outside the windows Earth could be seen, glowing brightly against a black backdrop dotted with stars.

Oscar never imagined a hacker could be someone so beautiful. Looking at her unwavering face on the computer screen, he felt as if she were in the room, looking at him face-to-face. He studied the perfectness of her facial features. Her beauty was unworldly.

Gemma took a deep breath. Though she was trembling, she was skilled at maintaining her composure. She stood completely still with her hands at her sides. She was tempted to brush a strand of hair away from her face and fiddle with her fingers—she wished the dress she wore had pockets where she could tuck them away—but she kept them pasted to her sides, as if they were tied there. She ignored the way the makeup that had been painted onto her face made her skin prickle. Makeup was not a thing that the people of Tetra wore; the large majority of them had no blemishes they felt the need to cover and their good health and longevity gave them a youthful glow that no amount of makeup could imitate. Gemma wore it now only to appear earthlier and more appealing to the general public. They had studied Earth’s celebrities and used images from popular magazines as their inspiration.

Gemma stared steadily at the camera in front of her. Behind that was a team of computer scientists seated in front of a row of monitors. Each of them wore a communication device in their ear. “Connection to the Pentagon established,” one of them announced.

“Connection to the White House established,” a young woman said. They continued one by one, naming off a list of the most important offices on planet Earth, including the International Space Center.

A number appeared above the camera—a countdown. It ten seconds, Gemma would address the entire world, a moment she had spent the past five years preparing for. It felt like a lifetime. The room fell silent as the countdown struck zero. Gemma looked on in silence for a few seconds just as she had rehearsed.

“Greetings to all people of Earth,” she began. Her elegant voice was steady and calm. She repeated the greeting in several languages then briefly explained that her message would be relayed in its entirety in each of the languages. “My name is Gemma and I come from a planet called Tetra. A planet which, unfortunately, is no longer inhabitable.” A videoclip of Tetra being incinerated from its sun was broadcast. Fissures on the planet’s surface glowed a violent orange. The seas were all but evaporated and created a thick mist that covered the sphere.

Gemma continued, “Not all of our people were able to escape, but those of us who have are now refugees in search of a new home. Our scientists have known for some time now that this solar storm was imminent. We’ve spent the past few hundred years exploring the universe in search of a suitable home. Your beautiful planet qualifies as such. We have been researching it extensively in preparation. Most of our missions to your planet have gone completely unnoticed, but some have not. We recognize that it would be entirely impossible to land a vessel of this size on your planet without it being noticed. That is why I am speaking to you now—to let you know, first and foremost, that we come in peace, and also to provide you the precise coordinates of where we will be landing.”

Charles nudged Oscar in the side with his elbow. “Quick! Grab a pen and write down these coordinates. And I want the entire country on the highest alert. I want everyone to have one eye on the sky and the other on the ground.”

Oscar’s fumbling fingers grabbed the nearest pen and paper he could find—an envelope—and hastily wrote down the longitude and latitude as Gemma said them. The coordinates also appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Where is that?” Charles gruffly asked.

“Uh…” Oscar hesitated. Fortunately, Gemma provided the answer as a satellite image of the location appeared on the screen—a barren, brown landscape.

“This remote desert in the state you call New Mexico is the place we have chosen to make our initial landing,” Gemma said. “This decision has been made after much research and careful consideration. I would now like to inform you that we are completely unarmed. Our ship has been fortified with an impenetrable shield. Any attacks made against us would be futile.” She stepped aside and stretched her arm out toward the window behind her where the Earth hung in space. “We are in Earth’s orbit now. If you don’t believe us, in seconds, the International Space Station will come into view and they can confirm our location.”

The camera’s focus shifted to a glistening object that crested Earth’s horizon. Gemma looked back at the camera and smiled. “We know it’s likely you’re going to threaten us with missiles. Know that we are very familiar with Earth’s technologies and know such space missiles are still in the experimental stages. Therefore, your threats will mean little to us. It is, however, our sincerest hope that no weapons will be deployed as there are thousands of young children, including infants who have been born during our voyage, aboard this vessel.

“We invite you to meet us in New Mexico so we can further discuss the logistics of cohabitating your lovely home and plan the arrival of the rest of the survivors. We look forward to meeting you soon.” She continued to smile until the broadcast ended. Her entire body relaxed when it did. She rubbed her cheeks, sore from smiling.

She immediately looked to Justine and walked toward her. Justine held out her arms and hugged her. Gemma let out a long sigh. “How did I do?” she asked.

“You did awesome. If the people of Earth don’t love you, then they’re crazier than we though.” Justine turned around when she heard some alarms blaring.

“We’re approaching Earth’s atmosphere. Everyone, please be seated,” Clarence announced over the intercom. Justine looked back at Gemma.

“I’m going down to my family for landing. I’ll see you earthside, okay?” Justine said.

“See you.” Gemma meandered over to the window which was now filled almost entirely with Earth’s mass. Seven seas and seven continents—far different from Tetra with its four, but also almost identical. She watched how the sun glistened on Earth’s dark seas. Her eyes trailed along the coastlines of the eastern United States. Her thoughts wandered to Tetra again; she was still not quite able to believe that all the beautiful places she had grown up loving were truly obliterated. She dropped down into a seat and strapped herself in as turbulence began jostling the ship.

“Shields activated,” a computer announced.

The trembling did not last long as they penetrated Earth’s atmosphere. Then the ship glided gently down toward the landmass that was North America. Gemma and her team liked to think they knew what to expect, but the reality was, they were heading into the unknown.

* * *

Jeff Killian Jr. grumbled as he slammed the phone down onto the table. “Why isn’t this darn phone working?” He dragged his hands over his face. His chin was covered in gray stubble and there were dark circles under his eyes.

’What are you trying to do?” his wife, Cora, asked from the kitchen. She was pouring herself a cup of chamomile tea while some bacon sizzled in a pan on the stove.

“I just wanted to check on dad,” he replied. “You know how lonely he gets, cooped up in that hospital. I was thinking about going to see him later today.”

“Hmm, my cell phone doesn’t appear to be working either.” His wife walked over to her husband. “No signal. See?”

Jeff swished his hand at the phone. “You know I don’t know what any of that means. Finnicky things.”

The China in the hutch started clinking together as the entire house began to tremble. Jeff stood up from his seat. “Is that an earthquake?” he wondered. His wife wrapped her arm around his.

“What do we do?” she asked in a panicked voice. She had never experienced an earthquake before. The cows out in the barn and paddock could be heard bellowing. Their distressed cries filled the air. The dogs started howling from the front porch.

“Get outside?” Jeff questioned. A large, porcelain cookie jar—belonging to Cora’s grandmother—was launched from the top of the refrigerator and shattered on the kitchen floor. “Get outside!” Jeff pulled Cora by the arm to the door. The dogs whined nervously and pawed at their owners’ legs as Jeff and Cora walked out of the door and onto the porch. The lights flickered as Jeff assisted his wife down the three, creaking porch steps.

“Jeff, look!” Cora shrieked, pointing to the morning sky. A massive ship glided over, casting a dark shadow over the farmyard. It rumbled like thunder and produced a gust of wind that tossed Cora’s graying hair and made the leaves in the tree planted in front of the house rustle.

“Not again,” Jeff mumbled. It was not the first time he had seen a UFO; he had grown up in New Mexico, after all. He and his dad had stories—multiple stories—that would’ve normally made them seem like crazy people, but not there. Not in the hub of the most UFO sightings in the world. They typically came when it was dark, but that was not the case this time. The silver ship glistened in the morning sunlight.

Cora rubbed her eyes as they were pelted with dust. “That’s not an earthquake!” she hollered over the whirring bluster. “Do you think it’s the military?”

The Department of Homeland Security and other government agencies had shown up on their ranch several times before to investigate suspicious activity. If all those peculiar experiences had taught Jeff one thing, it was to not get involved. His father had nearly been arrested once, accused of possessing some illegal missiles that must have been the cause of the mysterious bright flash several witnesses had seen streaking across the sky. Jeff would do everything he could to avoid another situation like that. “Keep your head down,” his father had told him. They became much more selective about whom they told their stories to after that.

The dogs cowered and hid beneath the porch. A startled coyote darted across the paddock. The cows kicked up dust as they stampeded in a frenzy. The chickens scattered, clucking hysterically, feathers twirled about by the gust. Cora clung tightly to Jeff’s arm. The ship seemed to go on forever. It slid across the sky only about one hundred feet above the top of the barn roof.

“It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Jeff commented. They watched it cross the desert until it disappeared from view.

“That definitely wasn’t a military ship,” Cora huffed. She glanced over at her husband. “Was that…an alien ship?” She was familiar with all of Jeff’s and her father-in-law’s stories. Having never had such an experience herself, she wasn’t entirely sure she believed them. Aliens were like the sasquatch and yeti—just inexplicable encounters people could not comprehend and therefore blamed on some mythological creatures.

“Get inside. Get the gun.”

Cora tugged on his arm. “Come with me,” she pleaded. “And really? We’re going to defend ourselves against an alien invasion with a single rifle? I’m calling the police.”

“Phones are down, remember?”

Cora’s eyebrows shot up and her face went white. “You’re right.” She pulled out her cell phone and looked down at the screen. “Let’s get in the car and get as far from here as possible then.”

Jeff nodded slowly, still staring into the direction the ship had flown. “Let’s go get Junior and dad first though.”