Author : Ilan Herman
Koy, the sky-blue alien, explained to Jeff that life on earth was really an experiment conducted by him and his associates, an anthropological study of how life evolves from the molecular to the bird, or fish, or tiger, or man. “We planted the seeds of life on earth. We did the same with other planets with various environments and used different seeds. On H12, we have an intelligent race of birds. They have language and governance much better than yours, perhaps because they use their wings instead of cars, though they have those too. We have not done well with creating life on Earth.”
Jeff listened to Koy’s explanation and then said, “No worries. We’re like germs in a Petri dish. We’re genetically engineered. I can dig that. How many other humans beside me know about your experiment?”
“Only four others, a woman in China, and one in Russia, a man in Peru, and another in Scotland. The rest of humanity is not ready.” Then Koy’s voice choked with cosmic tears. “We tried so hard to make a good world for you. Our best minds labored tirelessly to help humanity succeed. We failed and we are sorry. Man turned out to be toxic to the planet.”
Jeff scratched his balding scalp. The alien sounded like a frustrated five year old whose tree house had collapsed. “Why are you so upset? We’re all still an extension of God, with you as a facilitator. It’s all good.”
“I am happy to hear you say that,” Koy said, “for what you say is true. We are all one.”
“Besides,” said Jeff. “You could be someone else’s experiment.”
The alien’s sky-blue skin dimmed slightly. “I am not sure what you mean.”
Jeff held out his palms. “Duh. Like us humans are your experiment, though only five of us know that, maybe your race is also a Petri dish set up by another race.”
“But I have revealed myself to you,” Koy said, a cheer in his voice. “If what you say is true, why have I not met the race that created me?”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Because you’re not one of the five of your race to know. Like your secret is safe with me, so is the secret safe in the hearts of a few of your people, or race, or blue blobs.”
Koy’s shimmering ripples turned pinkish-green. He shrunk to about half the size of when he’d first appeared. He hovered only two inches off the carpet.
“That is a silly theory,” he finally said.
Jeff raised his arms in surrender. “If you say so. You’re probably right. After all, you made me, so you know better.”
Koy said nothing. Then he vanished.
“Nothing new under the sun,” Jeff said and hoisted himself off the couch and walked to the fridge for a glass of milk. Pouring the milk into the glass, he chuckled and said, “And that’s not a bad thing.”