Part One: Silent Arrival
Its official, we are not alone.
The ships arrived, of all days, April 1st. But this was no April Fool’s Day joke. The conspiracy websites have been screaming with activity ever
False Flag, The End of the World, Return of Jesus, the last I’mam, the final battle, you name it, there is a thread about it.
Teotwawki, The End of the World as We Know It, has come. We will never be the same.
During the first days after their appearance, it seemed as if the aliens were observing us, but at the same time keeping us at arms distance. The
government had sent up all types of planes and helicopters but the visitors seemed to be able to control how close they got. Eventually the
militaries noticed that any type of vehicle that could be perceived as a threat would not be allowed to get within the range to cause harm. There were
reports that any pilot attempting to breach an unseen barrier would lose control of navigation and steering systems until the vehicle reached a
seemingly preset distance. Only then, would control be returned to the pilot. However, scientific and observation vehicles were allowed much closer.
We were allowed to observe them, as it was clear that they were observing us. None of our communication systems seemed to have been affected, and the
official word from our government was that communication with our visitors had yet to be established. The conspiracy forums are full of threads
accusing the world leaders of knowing much more than they let on.
Most television channels are covering the events as they unfold, and there is no “entertainment” of any kind, unless you count the channels
broadcasting the people spouting the usual doom and gloom rhetoric.
I look out my windows and I can see them. Massive golden discs, silently hovering there, suspended in the sky. News cameras are everywhere. Each
reporter is hoping to be the first one to get a glimpse of our visitors.
There are port holes on the ships, and we assume that they might be windows. Occasionally, when the sun glints through the clouds, you can almost see
what appears to be a humanoid figure. Brief glimpses, and only possibilities. On the bottom section of the ships there is an iris looking portal. We
assume that it can open, as has been portrayed in various science fiction movies, but we have yet to see any evidence of this.
Images taken of the ships seem blurred and out of focus. There is much speculation that this is just a “psy-op” operation by the world
governments, and if I couldn’t see the ships myself, couldn’t hear their low mechanical hum, I might believe it.
Have they done something? Well, that remains to be seen. My best guess is that they have. The world is literally at a standstill. No newer vehicles
will run. Some planes cease working as soon as they are on the ground. Nuclear plants have completely, but safely, shut down. The only way to travel
is either by foot or by animal; the government has seized all working vehicles in the name of “Public Safety”. Power is limited in some areas.
People without power are massing in the places that do. Schools and businesses have closed and people have gathered with their family and friends.
Is this the calm before the storm?
I live less than two miles from a military base. We are on the base grid, so we still have power. I have seen the return of old roommates, friends,
acquaintances, and nearby relatives. My house is full and getting fuller still.
I used to discuss a gloom and doom scenario, and always told my friends to come here, that everyone was welcome, bring blankets and food and celebrate
the end of the world! We used to laugh, but now that we are faced with the uncertainty of what will happen next, they are gathering here. I always
touted my home as a safe haven, and now I have to live up to that. I feel satisfied I have been deemed worthy and yet I am overwhelmed with the
responsibility I used to joke about.
I’ve received calls from friends and distant family; I’ve made calls reaching out as well. Some ask to come to me; some ask me to come to them. No
matter what the outcome, we promise to stay in touch.
As each day passes, curiosity, and a fair amount of apprehension grows, but people have remained calm.
For the most the adults have sat around watching the television, listening to the radio, or surfing the internet for scraps of information. The
children have been playing in the back yard as if there was not a care in the world. It is oddly comforting.
I know that we are all in some way scared, and I spend a lot of my time discussing what to do next, what to do when something eventually happens.
My sister is in charge of the meals and organizing the staples that any newcomer brings. My oldest son was activated, as all the military seemed to
have been, and he has been at the base since the day our visitors arrived. He calls every so often just to check in, and give us any news that he
We’ve reached out to our neighbors, and tonight we are planning to have a small bonfire. It feels like a celebration of sorts. The children seem
happy, and play with reverent amounts of glee. Hearing their laughter fills us all with a sense of normalcy. But, we all know that we are gathering to
discuss what we are going to do when “it” happens.
My boyfriend arrived earlier today, and it is a relief, if it is the end of the world, the one place I want to be is in his arms, by his side. He is
my strength, my balance, my courage in the face of uncertainty. I need him now more than ever.
As evening starts rolling in, and the little ones get tuckered out and tucked in, the adults of the house start gathering outside and the neighbors
migrate towards the backyard. The teenagers choose to play Xbox or Wii games, keeping a close eye on the smaller children.
The adults collect; some bring beer, wine and other bottles of various kinds of alcohol and mixers. More and more it begins to feel like a party. I
guess that is what it is, a party, some of us joke that it will be the party to end the world.
It isn’t long before drums, bongos, guitars and other musical instruments join into the fun and it really does turn into a celebration. Someone
brought marshmallows. Drink, song, dancing and laughter around a campfire soothing us all in this uncertain time. The hours pass quickly and before we
know it dawn is rupturing the darkness of the night the sky.
As the sun is breaks the horizon the show begins to start. That low hum has intensified and someone notices that the ships have begun to slowly
rotate. We just stand there watching the ships, waiting.
The children start waking up, breaking us from our trance. Each of them happy, excited, and wanting to get outside, some of them nearly fighting to do
so. My sister’s dog whines and barks, pawing at the door. Some of the adults seemed to remain transfixed, just staring and watching the ships,
mesmerized by the hum. The children and the animals vault outside.
My sister’s boxer stops just outside the door and lets out a banal wolf like howl. He’s’ never made those types of ancestral wails, but it was
if he was beckoning others. Other dogs echo his cry, seeming to respond, and he bounded after the children.
As soon as the children were outside they started singing and stomping their feet in a rhythmic marching beat. They lined up, every single one of them
marching in place. Another row of children started massing in the street creating a formation of sorts. Even my two year old granddaughter was
marching. She was looking around, seemingly communicating with the other children with facial expressions and hand gestures.
Our street only had about twenty children under the age of eight and it took about fifteen minutes for them to form their ranks. The youngest formed
the front, leading the way with the eldest in back. They were chanting something that none of us recognized, but it seemed to me to be a counting
cadence, reminiscent of my boot camp days. Not a single child was out of beat, and if you tried to take them out of formation, they would scream and
fight until they were free and then run back singing their tempo, marching their beat.
Without warning they started clapping their beat, and the hum of the ships changed to match it, echoing a human heartbeat. As this happened, the
animals started to join. All the neighborhood dogs filed in front and on the sides in the first few rows of the children’s ranks, seemingly guarding
the youngsters, keeping the adults at bay by barking and snarling at any adult that ventured near.
I was the first adult to join the ranks beside the dogs. I mimicked the children, while making my approach, and the animals let me stay. Others filed
suit, and it wasn’t long before our little dead end street had ranks of adults, children and animals marching in place to a magical beat.
Suddenly there was a low whistle from what seemed to be a nearby ship, and the ranks of children started moving forward.
edit on 3/13/2012 by ThreeSistersofLoveandLigh because: to add