And The Winner Is…

Author : J. S. Kachelries

The host of the very popular holovision show slithered to the center of the stage. The thunderous ovation of 1500 tails pounding on the floor died away as the host’s three antennae motioned them to quiet down. The holocameras panned slowly from the audience to the host. “Thank you…thank you…welcome to Alien Encounters. Tonight is our final show focusing on the sentient life form on Sol-3, in the Sirius Sector. As our regular viewers will attest, these earthlings are a very entertaining species. They have to be the easiest species in the galaxy to mess with.

“For those of you unfamiliar with the show, we sent three teams of college students to Earth with instructions to convince as many earthlings as possible that ‘extraterrestrials’ exist using as little evidence as possible. The team producing the highest gullibility quotient will win an all-expense vacation for five at the Holiday Spa on Orion-3.

“Our first team, from Dorfox University, matted down a circular pattern in a vegetation field on one of the planet’s island countries. Despite the fact that no spaceship would leave such a simplistic impression, the earthlings became obsessed with wild speculations about alien visitors. The Dorfox team followed up with some really bizarre geometric patterns that had no practical significance whatever. Despite the 80/20 rule, very few earthlings accepted the simplest solution. They think we’re sending them complicated, encrypted messages. Hellllloooo. It’s not a complicated message guys, it’s ‘Get a life!’

“Our second team, from Darrvah University, shredded a weather balloon and scattered its remains across an arid silica wasteland. Not only did their news media go overboard, but they are still obsessed with the ‘alien crash site’ decades later. The really funny part is they think their government is involved in a conspiracy to cover up the incident. The more the government denies a cover-up, the more convinced the fools are that there are flying saucers and alien bodies hidden in a secure warehouse. It makes you wonder if these beings ever heard of Occam’s Razor. To this day, local souvenir shops still sell millions of little green humanoid dolls that are supposed to be us. Do you believe their arrogance? They think all intelligent races must be bilateral beings that look like them. Unbelievable!

“Finally, our third team, from Gihhel University, mind melded with an aspiring actor and had him broadcast an audio only “breaking news story” about aliens invading their planet. It was hilarious. Thousands of people were convinced we were going to turn them into slaves and sex toys. They grabbed projectile weapons to fight us off. Do you believe that? They thought they could chase away a superior, technologically advanced race with pop guns. And slaves? Why would we want intellectually challenged earthmen as slaves? That’s what robots are for. And sex toys? Hey, I’ve seen their women. I’d rather mate with a Cassiopeian swamp lizard.

Anyway, these are the three finalists. Will it be…Crop Circles, Roswell, or War of the Worlds? Which set of contestants made the most number of earthlings look like the south end of a north bound usagiuma?” The host reached into his pouch and pulled out a datapadd. He paused for dramatic effect. The audience began chanting for their favorite. He flipped open the padd and read “And the winner is…”

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The 2X Project

Author : Duncan Shields, Staff Writer

It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I knew what had happened.

Lisa Sagan and Andrea Hawking were helping Petra Turing make sure my vitals were stabilizing. It was Henrietta Einstein that was chairing the ‘wake. I could see my dear Shelagh Newton looking down from the observation booth with tears of joy in her eyes.

I’d been caught and killed. They’d had to wake up another copy of me.

I needed to know how much memory I was missing and if the Two-X project was still functioning.

We’d wrested control from the governments. We were the smartest minds on the planet. We’d taken over from the war-mongering males and turned the entire continent into a matriarchy that was feared and respected.

It wasn’t enough.

We need the world to be with us if we were to conquer space.

“Don’t try to move” said Carla Marconi. I bristled at the sound of her petulant voice but remained still. Soon, I would leave this hospital bed and be debriefed and rebriefed. The project was safe. I could see that much from here.

The black ceramic hummed above us in the nuclear cooling tower. Miles long, it crackled with barely restrained power. It wouldn’t be long before the world would fear us and have no choice but to obey. It was regrettable but the quickest solution.

The weapon is of my design.

My name is Tamara Tesla. A glorious future awaits.

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Celestial Mechanic

Author : hraesvelgr

“Solar Systems are easy to program. Way easier than I thought.”

“Told ya so,” I could hear the Director’s voice crisp and clear. “Did you enjoy the challenge?”

I smiled down at the still water of the lake before me, reflected in it a perfect image of Earth and its moon as viewed through the dome of my Surveyor Station. The sight was pristine, perfect; not just the beauty of reality as a canvas, but now that I knew every detail of the situation’s physics, now after I had run millions upon millions of equations, sorted through mathematics that had previously been beyond my imagining, I could appreciate the movement of the planets and satellites in a way no other human being would ever be able to.

“Yes,” I answered plainly, after a long pause, having almost forgotten the phone at my ear. “I mean. I love what I do.”

“Someone will be there in the morning to check on your productivity, but from the sound of things, I’m guessing all those recommendations were right about you.” The Director’s voice had a certain allure to it; one that told of a promotion, maybe even a bonus or an upgraded  Surveyor Station. “Once I get the report, kid, there’s a chance we can talk about getting you to work on Letser 920. It’s a sixteen-planet job.”

More work! I stifled a small laugh of sheer joy, still eyeing the reflection, watching as the moon drifted gracefully so near earth that it looked for a moment that the two might touch. “I’m up for anything you can throw at me, boss. Now that I have a handle on it, I could probably even build a solar system from scratch.” There was a flash of light in my little lake, reflected from above where the sun was peeking out from between the two celestial bodies. My distracted mind thrummed over the math of the event for a moment, and there was a little tick in my subconscious telling me that the sun was still three hours from that sort of dawn. The Perturbation Theory could account for that, maybe. But, really…

My thoughts paused to reprocess what was going on, taking their time, going over the calculations I’d run and trying to figure what had…

Happened. I snapped my head away from the reflection. Looking up, I saw with my own eyes, the flash of light hadn’t been from the sun; Earth had just suffered a head-on collision with its own moon. “Son of a bitch!” Goodbye, Africa.

For several seconds I just stared upward, speechless, only partly hearing the director’s inquisitions about my sudden explication. I could see it all now: the perturbations that had gone wrong, the prophetic calculations of what was to come, the Earth breaking apart, the orbits of the other planets all skewed into catastrophic spirals. It was to be a dead solar system. And what’s worse, it was going to be hell for me to score even a two-planet job after the Director heard about this one.

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Reflections

Author : =arkhein

Deeg snuck out of his parent’s cabin late on the last night.  He had noticed the elevators had cameras in them, so he took the stairwell instead.  There would be consequences for his actions, but if he could avoid some of them, that would be nice.

The stairwell turned out to be a narrow tube, thirty stories high, with a flimsy ladder welded to the inside.  The sight of it made his eyes bug, but he climbed in anyway.  She would be there.  She probably was there already.

“Are you going to be at the homecoming party at the Core tonight?  Veena had asked.  Deeg distinctly remembered the rainbow sparkles in her long blonde hair and the overwhelming scent of strawberries.

Rather than asking what the ‘Core’ was, Deeg just nodded and said “of course!”

Halfway up the tube, Deeg was exhausted and sweaty.  His hand slipped, and he fell.  Deeg almost screamed, but realized he was falling much more slowly than he should, and grabbed the ladder quickly.  Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up hard and sailed upwards several feet before slowing down.  The rest of the way up, he took superman leaps.

“Oh, I’m going to be there too,” Veena had said, looking down at the ping-pong table intently and twisting the hair near her ear round her finger over and over again.  Deeg opened his mouth to ask her if she wanted to play another game, but she set the paddle on the table.

“Well, I gotta go.  Bye,” she said, making eye contact with him for a second, then rushing over to a gaggle of giggling girls who were playing a dancing game in the corner.

As he approached the hatch, a thumping sound came to his awareness.  Deeg opened the hatch and dance music blared.  He pulled himself inside.

The Core was a huge circular compartment, over a hundred feet across.  Thin poles ran at all angles across the cavernous room, bearing multicolored, spining lights. People moved up and down the struts via handholds, and then swung themselves out into the air, dancing and flailing and spinning.

Deeg’s eyes were on the huge, circular windows on the walls throughout the Core.  Most showed some part of the huge white ship they were on, the cisluar ferry Atluntos.  Its bulk was the huge habitable ring that could be seen in all directions.  The Core was at the very center of the ship, attached to the ring with huge struts.

Then he saw Veena.  She was at the nearest window, peering out.  She was dressed in a rainbow colored body suit covered in lights that pulsed with the beat of the music.  Her golden hair formed a floating, shining corona about her head, and Deeg gasped.  

Veena looked up, saw him, and grabbed his arm.  She said something, but Deeg couldn’t hear.  She said it again, then pointed at the window.  He looked out.  There was Earth.  It wasn’t full, but still glowed brightly against the blackness of space.

She moved forward and he could feel her breath on his face.  It made him dizzy.  She bit her lower lip slightly and looked into his eyes.  Then she kissed him.  It was sloppy and rough and the taste of strawberries filled his mouth.  His hands moved to her back and behind her head, and he returned the sloppy, wonderful first kiss.

* * *

Years later, the only thing he could remember about his teenage vacation to the moon was a strawberry smell, and the reflection of the crescent Earth glowing brightly in Veena’s eyes.

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Tin Foil Hat

Author : Todd Keisling

“People of Earth, hear me!”

The transient stood in the center of the station and held a large placard that read “THEY’RE WATCHING.” The few commuters who paid him any attention allowed a large distance between themselves and this poor, confused soul.

“The Shadow Government that controls this planet does not want me to tell you what I know. They know I know, and I must make haste before they triangulate on my position.”

His voice was studious and eloquent. It came as a shock to the few who noticed. This dump-dweller, with his drab army fatigues, plump winter parka (despite the Summer temperatures) and vacant look in his eye, was the speaker of such intelligent diction?

Those who managed to hold his stare did not do so for long. Their eyes were distracted by the carefully sculpted hat of tin foil on his head.

“We are the last remaining few! When Atlantis sank, it was only part of their master plan to enslave humanity. They keep us in bondage by partitioning out the airwaves in small, digestible chunks, easy for our tiny minds to swallow while they withhold that which they do not want us to know.”

One of the few commuters actually paying attention spoke up and said, “I thought Atlantis was a myth?”

“That’s what they want you to think,” the vagrant countered, pointing in the young lad’s direction. “They want you to believe that. Area 51 isn’t really a secret lab for testing alien spacecraft. There are no aliens. There never was a moon landing. We are alone, but they want us to fear the possibility of extraterrestrial existence. They pump our minds full of Hollywood glamour and lies. Fear is their bargaining chip. It’s their foothold over civilization—so it has been, and so it always will.

“But I know. I know too well. They couldn’t keep me contained at Groom Lake, and they won’t keep me contained here. They think they can steal my brainwaves and turn me into one of their sheep—”

He pointed to the tin foil hat. He didn’t notice the approach of two security guards.
“—but I know how to beat them. The men who run this Shadow Government want us to remain asleep in our beds of fear, and their—hey, let me go!”

The vagrant offered little resistance. While one guard handcuffed him, the other took his sign. As they ushered him out, some commuters heard him say, “They can’t keep me! They’ll never get my brainwaves!”

And then they were gone. The station returned to its normal hustle and bustle, the low drone of human voices and shuffling feet. Across the lobby, two men in black, three-piece suits and fedoras put out their cigarettes, stared at one another for a brief moment and then erupted into laughter.

“And all this hoopla about Area 51! Everyone knows it’s one of our subterranean retirement centers,” one said.
“‘The men who run this Shadow Government,'” said the other.

“I know! It’s absurd!”

“As if there ever was such a thing! Men and their self-absorbed fantasies. The human mind still astounds me. Do you think it’s safe, letting the last few run free like this?”

“Oh, I’m sure the Collective knows best. As long as they don’t know the truth, Plan X will continue.”

“I suppose you’re right, Krelyx. ‘No moon landing,’ indeed.”

They cackled as they vanished into a passing crowd of commuters.

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