"The Emissary"

[AnnieBloom]

"The Emissary"

If you read this first post and find it interesting,
PM me to join.
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This RP already has 2 writers,
but we have decided
to make this a small group RP.
If that suits you, PM me.
​

In early 2035, the question as to whether or not Human Beings were alone in the universe was answered.

On Friday the 23rd of April, an otherwise unremarkable day in much of the world, an alien spacecraft was suddenly in orbit of Planet Earth. There had been no warning by the government or scientists. No amateur astronomer or deep space telescope had detected it. It was simply there, so large that even those parts of the planet in daylight could see the sun's rays reflecting off its hull.

Some people panicked. Others were simply in awe. Across the globe, governments reacted pretty much in the same way. They activated their arms services. Some declared martial law. There would be debate about whether this helped or not. Panic buying and looting occurred across the globe in cities large and small. All of this happened without anyone anywhere having any idea as to what the Alien arrival actually meant for the Human Race.

The first interaction between Aliens and Humans occurred in space. The International Space Station was circling Earth at 17,700 mph at an altitude of 250 miles. The Alien craft's altitude was decreasing, as was its speed. Space if a mighty big place, and one might have believed that the two objects could occupy their little corner of it without bothering the other. Turns out, this wasn't as true as flight controllers on the ground would have wished.

On the space station's third orbit of Earth following the detection of the Alien ship, a collision was found to be imminent. The crew immediately began preparations to use the "lifeboat" to get the hell out of Dodge. The six occupants got to the capsule, disengaged from the ISS, and fired their rockets for a deorbit to Earth. Unfortunately, their course wasn't any safer than that of the station they'd just left.

Ground control lost the capsule signal in the massive radar reflection of the Alien vessel. Around the world, the presumed deaths of the ISS crew were announced.

(Part 1 of 3)

 

[AnnieBloom]

The announcement that Sally Keen was going to serve as Commander of one of the last missions to the soon-to-be decommissioned International Space Station had been a life changer for her. It had also been a life changer for Winifred Vance, and not in a good way.

Sally and "Win" had been a couple for almost a decade. While they were not "in the closet" lesbians, they'd kept their personal relationship personal. The only people who'd known thus far that the pair had quietly married three years earlier had been their families and Sally's HR department at NASA, to which Sally had reported the union as part of her health insurance and death benefits update.

They weren't ashamed of being gay. Not at all. They were simply private people. Of course, once Sally had been announced as Expedition 99's Commander, and the Press began researching deeper into the crew's background, their private relationship was no longer private. Every story about Expedition 99 seemed to include the words "lesbian", "gay", or "same sex union".

Neither Sally, Win, nor NASA as an organization could understand why, in 2026, the sexual orientation of a member of its latest expedition was still headline news. There were so many other stories to be covered.

Operations at the ISS were winding down. Preparations were being made to force the station to fall harmlessly into the Pacific Ocean in late 2027. (The original date of 2031 had been moved up after an onboard fire ceased almost all scientific research.)

Even today, as the television, print, and internet Press was memorializing Sally and her crew in articles about their presumed deaths, the women's same sex relationship was mentioned.

Win had isolated herself away at her family's country home when the news of the ISS came. She was comforted by her mother and sister as she watched the 24/7 live coverage. Her father, meanwhile, sat on the porch with a loaded shotgun to keep the Press at bay. That, too, made the news.

(Part 3 of 3 coming next.)

 

[AnnieBloom]

Win had drifted off in an old armchair, covered by a quilt made almost a century earlier by her great-grandmother. She was jostled gently awake. Her mother, father, sister, and a stranger in uniform were all standing over her. "Honey," her mother said, "this man's here to speak to you."

The man identified himself as being from the NASA's Media Relations department. "I have a video you need to see, Miss Vance, when you are ready."

Win took a moment to splash water on her face. The man had set up a laptop on the kitchen table. He tapped the screen. Win saw 5 of the 6 members of Expedition 99. Sally was not one of them. "What is this? When was this recorded? Where's Sally?"

"Three hours ago, Miss Vance," the man told her. "Please, listen. It will explain everything. I promise."

The crew members were milling about. They eventually formed a line with all of them facing the camera that presumably was providing the recording. The second-in-command of the current Expedition was standing in the center. He first explained that all six of the crew members were alive and well.

"Our hosts have been very good to us. They have treated us well. There should be no concern for our safety by NASA, Roscosmos, ESA, CSA or our friends, family, and others back home."

He didn't mention JAXA, the Japanese space agency. There had been no Japanese astronauts on the station at the time of the alien ship's arrival. "We're fine. I assure you of that. We have been told that we will be returned to Earth at the earliest opportunity, and I believe this to be true. I have no reason not to believe this."

"I don't understand," Win asked. "Where are they? What hosts? Where the fuck is Sally?"

The NASA man only pointed back to the screen, where the astronaut continued. "Expedition 99 Commander Sally Keen is, well..." The man went silent. He looked left and right for help. A second crew member said, "Commander Keen has, how do I say this. Sally has volunteered to act as a liaison of sorts between the Matluk--"

She pronounced it MAT-look. "--and Earth. She, um. Commander Keen has--"

She stopped, glancing "stage right" as the sixth ISS crew member stepped into view. She began, "The people of Earth will recognize me as Commander Sally Keen, from the Earth nation of the United States of America and its space program, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration."

In truth, there probably weren't more than a few thousand space exploration enthusiasts across the world who'd even known the name Sally Keen before the presumed destruction of the ISS and deaths of its crew. More people by far could have told you the outcome of last night's Guardians-Padres game than could have told you that the ISS even had a female commander, even with all the irrelevant coverage of who she was married to.

"It is not Commander Keen who speaks to you at this moment, however," the explanation continued, "Commander Keen has graciously offered her physical being, her body and her mind, to facilitate communication between my people, the Matluk, and your people, the Humans."

Win was stunned by what she was hearing and could only mumble, "What the fuck?"

"My name is not easily translated into any of Earth many languages, so we have chosen what I am told is called a nickname: Emelia. I speak for the Matluk people. I am an Emissary."

"Emelia" looked to the astronauts and cosmonauts behind her, then forward again. "Our guests will be returned to the planet within three of your days. At the same time, I wish to meet with the leaders of your planet, your United Nations. At that time, I will explain the reason for the Matluk's presence in your solar system."

Emelia stepped aside and invited the crew to speak. One by one, the remaining five members of Sally' Keen's Expedition stepped forward and took their turn to speak. They spoke in their native tongues to their friends, families, and space agencies, again reassuring one and all that they were safe and being cared for. One of them spoke of how the food was surprisingly delicious. Another talked about how odd it was to feel gravity on a vessel in space. One was simply overwhelmed and repeated three times, "You gotta see this place. My god!"

When they finished, Emelia stressed, "We come in peace. I am told that that is the common greeting seen in your motion pictures about races arriving from distant planets." She got confirmation from one of the astronauts behind her. She smiled and repeated, "We come in peace."

There was a pause. Emelia adopted a more solemn expression. She said, "Commander Keen has shown great courage and bravery and dedication to her crew, her nation, and her race by permitting me to use her in this way. I want to reassure her friends and family that she has not suffered and will not suffer any harm, and that she will return to you safe and sound as soon as possible."

The man from NASA tapped the screen, freezing the image of a smiling Sally Keen. Or Emelia. Or both! He said, "I can't leave this with you, Miss Vance. It hasn't been released to the Press yet and is still classified. I'm sure it's been leaked and will be all over the news any time, but for now I have to take this with me. But you are welcome to watch it again if you wish."

Win just sat there, staring at the image of her wife, lover, and best friend. She reached out to touch her but didn't, afraid that touching the laptop's screen might make the image vanish. Eventually, she said, "I'm good." She stood and left the room. The NASA man spoke with her parents for several minutes before departing.

Win went out into the fenced backyard, hoping for privacy. She looked up into the sky. It was a beautiful, clear, sunny day. She'd heard that the alien craft could be seen during daylight if it passed overhead within 120 miles of a person's earthly location. All Win saw when she looked up were three Press drones overhead. She returned to the house's interior, casually mentioning the hovering camera platforms. Her father hurried outside with his shotgun and took two of them out before the third hurriedly vanished beyond the trees.

Inside, again in her comfortable chair, beneath her comfortable quilt, all Win could think to say was, "What the fuck?"

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: To better understand Billy's "issues", search for "Moses Lake" in Google Maps. You'll see.)

Moses Lake, Washington, USA:

An alarm on William "Billy" Grant's cell phone sounded at 5:20am. He'd already been awake for 20 minutes at that point. 365 days a year, he was up at 5am to begin his day. The life of a farmer/rancher began with the crowing roosters and first reddening of the eastern sky. He was up this early to eat breakfast, brew coffee, and contemplate the day's chores.

The purpose of the alarm was to alert him to something new in his life. He grabbed his travel mug and headed out to a chair on the porch. He was just in time to look up and see the night sky's newest marvel. At exactly 5:23am, the alien spacecraft appeared on the southwestern horizon. Billy used to look for the International Space Station when it was in the skies over Central Washington State. The ISS was gone now, replaced by the very much larger and very much more impressive alien spacecraft.

He sipped from his mug as he watched the ship coming nearer. The ISS had been in the skies for up to six minutes when it passed directly overhead. The alien ship had initially passed overhead in less time than that. But its time in the sky was increasing each day, caused by it increasing its altitude above Earth. Billy understood the relationship between altitude and satellite speed but didn't know the math. He only knew that the higher the object, the slower the object.

He stood and moved out into the yard as the porch threatened to block the view. Tonight, the ship looked huge, relative to the ISS. Rather than just a bright dot like the ISS, the ship was a bright disc. Billy had heard various numbers regarding its size. Honestly, he didn't think anyone really knew yet. All he knew was that it was big!

The ship disappeared beyond the northeastern horizon. Billy went in to refill his mug before getting started on the chores. Once done with those, he hopped into his old beater Ford and headed to town. Along the way, he passed dozens of pivot irrigation systems. He cringed.

He hated the way the big commercial farmers were sucking the Odessa Aquifer dry with their huge and numerous "circles". Each year, the Odessa's underground water level dropped almost 10 feet. When the "white man" arrived in this area and began farming, he could dig a well down 30 feet and have year-round water. That was true during even the driest summers. Today, Billy knew some farmers whose wells were over 2,000 feet deep. And some of these were dry at the growing season's end.

This region of Central Washington had never been intended to be farmed this way. It was an arid region better suited to ranching small herds. Billy irrigated only 2 of his property's 22 acres. The rest was grassland that supported a dozen herd animals. The water came from a stream that ran most of the year and a pond that supplemented his needs. It was filled by the stream as well.

He was eager to do his part for the planet. He'd eliminated or cutback crops and the number and type of animals that had taxed his water resources. He'd also changed his diet, eliminating pork, the most energy-wasting of the meat animals. Driving past the irrigation pivots and cattle feedlots simply rankled him.

Billy belonged to several conservation organizations. Some of them had made significant achievements. Some of them hadn't. What was important was being involved. He believed in the maxim that to make a difference, you first had to show up. As he parked in front of the feed and seed store to purchase supplies, his alarm went off again. He looked up to find the alien ship again passing overhead, visible in the daylight.

As he watched it, he could never have known that he would be joining a new conservation organization, an alien one, that would make all the difference in the world.

 

[AnnieBloom]

(OOC: We changed the year of the story to 2032 to enable us to use political characters who weren't already in place in 2024.)

The White House, Washington DC:

President Angela Paulson watched the video of Emelia, aka Sally Keen, for a tenth or eleventh time, she didn't really know. She shook her head in a combination of disbelief and amazement as she continued to try to wrap her head around the message and its meaning to the people of the United States and of the world.

She was in the White House's Situation Room for this latest viewing, surrounded by dozens of her advisors. Present were members of the National Security Council and the Joint Chiefs; the Directors of Homeland Security, CIA, FBI, and NSA; key members of Congress who were Chairpersons of various committees responsible for the country's security; and others. Angela had spoken to a few of these people already over the 72 hours since the arrival of the alien aircraft, but this was the first time that her entire advisory entourage had been assembled like this.

She looked around the room at the dozens of faces looking back at her and said, "I know that this is a mistake, but I'm going to do it. Opinions?"

As expected, that opened up a can of worms. From every direction, politicians, military personnel, and others jumped in to put in their two cents. Angela sat there and listened as best as she could as men and women spoke over each other, argued with each other, agreed with or ridiculed the opinions of others, and such forth.

Finally, she held a hand up for silence, getting it only after the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs slammed his balled fist on the table. Angela almost laughed at the man's assistance, particularly because of their past. General Robert Thompson, despite being a military man who was supposed to keep his politics to himself, had publicly expressed his desire that Angela not win the 2032 election. He'd respected her 8 years as an Air Force fighter jet pilot, obviously, but he'd disagreed with her policies regarding disengaging militarily in many of the world's hot spots.

And yet, after she did win, he agreed to remain as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs at her request. "We need you," she'd told him simply. "It doesn't matter if you don't like me. The only thing that matters if that you can advise me from your heart, and then, even if you disagree with my decisions, that you can follow the orders I give you."

Thompson had told her he would and could, and he'd remained in his position. Not only that but he'd been a vocal supporter of the President even as she'd begun withdrawing American forces from some of the world's most dangerous regions. She'd always believed that the reason so many people across the globe hated America was because America had been forcing its own beliefs and values down their throats for far too long.

The only way to bring about world peace, she'd long believed, was to allow the peoples of the world to govern themselves without outside influence from cultures much different from their own, notably that of the United States. Oh, she still despised the way some Muslim nations treated their female populations or how some governments treated their racial and religious minorities, of course.

But was it truly America's responsibility to tell these people how to govern? Or was it better to let these leaders seriously fuck up all on their own and eventually be displaced by better successors? It was a risk, and Angela could be seriously wrong. But she was going to give it a try because what the US had been doing since the end of World War II and then even more intensely since the fall of the Soviet Union simply wasn't working.

The conversation in the Situation Room continued for nearly two hours after the last playing of what was already becoming known as the "Alien Introduction video". At the end of it all, Angela kept her decision of next steps simple. "I want stock trading suspended. I want military reserves called up, ready to go into action protecting the people as necessary. There's going to be panic amongst the citizenry as soon as we broadcast this--"

"Are we broadcasting this?" an advisor asked surprised.

"Of course, we are," Angela said. "This isn't something you keep from the people. Besides, look around you." She let her gaze sweep across the dozens of people in the room. "If you don't think that someone in this room hasn't already tweeted it or will within two minutes of this meeting's end, you're an idiot."

She continued her instructions, "I want a freeze put on wages and prices. Remember that scene from 'Armageddon', when Morgan Freeman's POTUS said what a loaf of bread cost you yesterday, it will cost you tomorrow--"

"Bottle of water," someone corrected. When Angela stared questioningly, the Aide repeated, "Bottle of water. Not a loaf of bread. And it wasn't 'Armageddon', it was 'Deep Impact'."

The Aide realized her mistake almost before she finished speaking. "Sorry, Madam President."

Angela found the correction humorous actually. She'd never been a motion picture or television enthusiast. She only smiled and continued. "I want it made clear to the people that we are taking this seriously but that we are not overly concerned. We will learn what this all means when this Emelia explains herself to the United Nations--"

"Are we really allowing her to come to New York City?" an aid asked. "We're going to let an alien spacecraft or shuttle or whatever it is--"

"Maybe she's going to transport," one of the military officers offered. "Like Star Trek. 'Scotty, beam me up'."

"Yes, we are," Angela cut through the combination of laughs and quiet chastising of the officer by the Chairman. "We are going to let whatever Emelia is flying or transporting in land in or near New York City or New Jersey or wherever, and we are going to ensure that she gets safely to the United Nations building to explain herself. Listen, people: nothing else matters right now other than learning what these people, these aliens, want. From us, the people, and from our planet. They didn't come here for a weekend getaway. They have a reason."

"Are you declaring martial law, Madam President?" an advisor asked.

Angela's response was immediate, firm, and short. "No!"

"Are you speaking to the American people?" another Aide asked.

"Well, that was rather a formal way of asking it, but yes," she answered. "We've already arranged to break into everyone's favorite Saturday night network shows in--" She looked to the many clocks on the walls and found the one labeled 'East Coast'. She finished, "--forty-four minutes."

"No one watches network television on Saturday night," someone said from farther down the table. When Angela stared silently at the man, he explained, "There's nothing on the networks Saturday night. It's all shit. Pardon, Madam President."

Angela had no idea what the man was talking about and truly didn't care. The conversation about the aliens, the American response, and more continued for another thirty minutes before she brought it to an end. She told her advisors to keep her updated and then went to the residence to change into a blouse and undergarments that weren't soaked with sweat. A shower became necessary as well. Exiting it, she caught sight of her husband's razor sitting on the far side of his bathroom sink. She suddenly realized how badly she missed his advice, and she began crying.

Gregory had died six months ago of an undiagnosed brain aneurism. Angela had insisted on personally clearing his things out of the Residence. She hadn't been able to discard certain things, though. The razor for one. His favorite pajamas were still in the top drawer of their shared dresser. The last suit jacket he'd worn was hanging in his closet, which was otherwise nearly empty. She'd kept his slippers, too. They'd been a gift from her their last Christmas together.

Once she'd dressed and primmed, she went to the Oval Office where preparations were being made for her address. She'd asked for the Vice President to be there, and she found him awaiting her in her Chief of Staff's adjacent office. After clearing everyone else out of the Oval, the two of them sat down on the couches facing one another. Angela pointed out, "You've been noticeably silent since all of this began. Anything you want to share?"

 

[HumanBean]

The White House, Washington DC:

Vice President. Vice President! The silver medal of presidential politics, Clark Griffin could still remember thinking. The best loser.

Clark could also remember the moment Angela had offered the sidekick role to him. She'd won enough delegates to make her the winner of the primary process weeks earlier. The Convention, where she would be officially selected as the Democratic Party's nominee for President, had been just days off. Clark had suspended his own campaign the night of Super Tuesday. He'd won the second highest number of delegates. Still, Angela Paulson had won almost three times as many delegates as he had.

He'd lent his name and experience to the ticket, obviously. Clark was no idiot. He'd suffer through his eight years as VP and, obviously, be the heir apparent to replace her. He'd get his eight years in the Oval Office. Angela simply needed to not fuck up her own eight years. She'd done a pretty good job so far. International affairs hadn't been this good since the mid-2020s. The economy was rebounding. The stock market was at a historic high. And for the first time since 2021, the Democrats had control of the White House, the House, and the Senate.

Things had been looking good. There had only been one place to go: downhill. And now, they were. That was Clark's opinion anyway. President Paulson was dealing with the aliens all wrong. She wasn't seeing them as the threat they were. He'd considered saying something to her in the Situation Room. He would have been politely dismissed. When he was called to the Oval Office, Clark was determined to speak his mind.

They met in the Chief of Staff's office. Angela gestured him to sit, joined him, and said, "You've been noticeably silent since all of this began. Anything you want to share?"

Clark was about to share his thoughts. Then, he remembered his thoughts about Angela fucking up her presidency. If she was going to do that, it would be now. Instead of waiting two four-year terms to replace her, he might only have to wait one. He smiled pleasantly to her. "I think you're handling this just as you should, Madam President."

They talked a few minutes, but Angela had an address to give. They parted ways. Clark hurried to his office and began making calls. One after another, he spoke to men and women in the government, the military, the intelligence apparatus, and the commercial sector. He wanted to know how much support he would have in challenging the President in next year's primaries.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

The White House, Washington DC:

Secret Service Agent M'chel 'Lupo' Starr

It was still weird walking these halls yeah, she’d been brought on a while back, but it was still... THE WHITE HOUSE. She’d been on duty when the First husband had passed, and that had been a kick in the gut. He’d been a nice guy, and everyone had liked him. Getting the call that he’d dropped had set the whole place off like a kicked hornets' nest.

She’d rushed POTUS to safe zone Delta, the VP’s people had rushed him to another spot just in case it was an attack, and fuck if the Secret Service hadn’t had a hell of a time evac’ing other VIPs to safe points.

The ride to the Hospital had been hell. She didn’t know if she was supposed to console the POTUS, or what. There hadn’t been protocols for such an event. There still weren’t but by the next POTUS there would be. So, she’d rode without saying a damned thing, listening to the comm chatter over her earpiece.

Now she was watching a room full of assholes that wanted to whine, bitch, and point fingers. God damn if there was ever a zombie apocalypse, she’d have a tough choice... who would she shoot first? Zombies, politicians, or reporters?

But it was just a fantasy as usual. Standing there watching the room, cold as dry ice. Some of the other Secret Service called her Ice Queen. Or Elsa. Not to her face, not anymore. But she’d overheard the chatter.

 

[AnnieBloom]

Several days later in New York City:

The Presidential motorcade always caused mayhem in New York City. Today, though, the city was already in upheaval because of the very special visitor to it: Emelia of the Matluk. The mayor of NYC had actually ordered all businesses located in Manhattan closed for the day to alleviate traffic congestion. The order would keep over a million workers from flooding the island from the other boroughs, New Jersey, and beyond. The order didn't apply to coffee shops, corner bodegas, restaurants, and the like. The mayor wasn't about to tell 1.6 million Manhattan residents that they couldn't have their espressos or pizza.

The Presidential limo pulled off of United Nations Plaza Drive onto the UN's circular driveway, heading for the underground garage's entrance. Angela asked her Chief of Staff, sitting in the rear facing seat across from her, "How long until Emelia's shuttle arrives?"

Told that the Matluk Emissary was due in just minutes, the President called to the Secret Service agent in the front passenger seat, "Agent Starr, don't take us into the garage. Stop out front. I want to walk in through the front doors."

This was highly against protocol but not at all unusual for Angela. She did such things as this often, and the Secret Service knew better than to contradict her. (The reason M'Chel "Lupo" Starr was now Lead on POTUS's protection detail was because Angela had had the previous lead reassigned after a disagreement regarding Angela walking the rope line at an event to shake hands and kiss babies.) It wasn't as if Angela was a bitch or anything like that. She just liked to have her way.

The motorcade came to a stop out front of the UN building, and after the Secret Service agents had flooded out of this and other vehicles to secure the area, only then was Angela allowed out of the building to head for the front entrance. The square out front of the building was eerily devoid of life, with the exception of a flock of pigeons. The Secret Service had had the forethought of securing the grounds just in case their boss did something like this.

Inside the building, though, Angela took a moment to greet some staff and shake hands. Then after a couple of minutes, her Chief of Staff told her, "The Matluk shuttle is landing in the north lawn in two minutes."

"I want to see this," Angela said, looking about to determine which direction north was. To her Chief of Staff, she whispered, "I want to be the first Human representative Emelia meets. Not gonna let that damn Secretary General get all the glory."

She headed that way, surrounded by her detail. Again, they weren't happy with the spontaneity, and again, there wasn't much that they could do about it. They exited the Secretariat building, entered and passed through the Visitors Services Building (again shaking hands and greeting people with smiles), then exited it to continue northward until they could see the north lawn.

The UN Complex's north lawn was not a helicopter landing area, as was the White House's south lawn. But when the Matluk had explained how Emelia would be landing, the UN Secretary General ordered Security to secure and make available the area. Angela and her entourage had barely gotten into place when the alien shuttle curled into view, coming from the northeast over Roosevelt Island.

Angela hadn't known what to expect in the approaching craft. Did it operate with rotors horizontally arranged like a helicopter? Or was it a vertical takeoff vehicle like the F-35 stealth fighter? There were no visible rotors as the craft approached, leading Angela to settle on the second option. And yet, when the shuttle slowed its forward movement over the north lawn and began to descend, there was no incredibly loud and incredibly disruptive jet wash beating down on the grass and spreading out into the surrounding trees and other features as would be present with a vertical takeoff craft.

There was, however, a very strange feeling in the air that Angela attributed to the shrinking distance between the alien shuttle and her. A chill ran up her spine, goose bumps exploded over her appendages, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She would find out later, too, that all of the cell phones, tablets, watches, and even the Secret Service's communications devices any closer than 200 feet of the landing location would power down for entirely unknown reasons.

The craft settled on the lawn, and a minute or so later, a door opened, and a staircase emerged. A minute after that, the crew of the ISS's Expedition 99 descended to the lawn. Angela counted heads and immediately realized that they were one astronaut short: Sally Keen, aka Emelia, was not amongst the returning heroes. The five saw Angela and her people and headed that direction.

"Madam President," the uniformed Pilot said as he stopped short and threw up a stiff salute. Smiling, he said as he took Angela's offered hand, "It's good to be home."

POTUS greeted each of the Expedition members with a handshake, then asked, "Where is Captain Keen? Or, Emelia?"

Behind them, the shuttle began rising into the sky. The Pilot explained, "She's coming in on the next flight. She wanted us to have some time to talk to you and our families. They're here, right?"

Angela looked to her Chief of Staff, who listed the family members who'd been able to get here from wherever they'd been in the world. There was at least one person present for each of the heroes.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

As soon as The Boss spoke M’chel called it over the radio, “She’s going in the front. Report. Not the basement. Front doors. Clear the path.”

First one out of the vehicle, she expected shots as soon as the back door opened and the President stepped out. But that was her job after all. Expect the shots. Take the bullet.

Unfortunately they weren’t just the local crazies anymore. Now they had crazies from other planets, and it was time to shake hands and kiss alien babies.

Walking along she was constantly darting her eyes, watching for gunman, or a suicide bomber, to step out. There were times when this was a cake walk, and then there were times like this when it was hell.

When the pilot and the crew came from the alien shuttle half the detail was ready to mow them down if they blinked wrong. Hell they'd already considered situations where everyone had been replaced, or brainwashed, and was going to assassinate the POTUS.

As it was she’d been told NOT to SHAKE HANDS. No physical contact until they’d been medically cleared by Human doctors. Hell as it was the families would be quarantined after this, just to make sure some alien space virus didn’t wipe them out. The Spanish flue had done wonders for the native Americans, who knew what the Matluk had in their bodies.

And the fact that Captain Keen had ‘allowed’ herself to be possessed/replaced by an alien had raised a lot of eyebrows.

“Madam President, I’m going to ask, again. That you stop shaking hands, especially with the alien until the Medical staff can make sure they don’t have anything that can kill us. And we don’t know how this ‘body swap’ happens. If she takes over your body... they’d have control of all our nuclear arsenal.”

 

[AnnieBloom]

At the same time in the alien spacecraft:

"The shuttle has landed, Emissary," a technician at a monitoring station reported. "The Humans have disembarked and are meeting with their own people."

"Very well," Emelia responded. To the pilot of her own shuttle, she said, "Disengage. Take us down."

This shuttle, like the dozens of others the "mother ship" had, was incorporated into the vessel's outer hull. There were no "Star Trek"-like shuttle bays with sliding doors and invisible force fields keeping the air in and the vacuum of space out. The passengers entered it via a small airlock which closed behind them, and with the disengaging of clamps, the shuttle fell away toward the planet below.

Over the past few days, the mother ship had adjusted its speed and height until finally it was in a relatively stationary position over New York's Long Island. Emelia had wanted to be near to what she believed was the governmental heart of Planet Earth, New York City, the home of the United Nations.

On the ground at the United Nations:

Angela's newest Secret Service Agent politely and yet still firmly warned about making contact with aliens or with those who'd likely made contact with aliens, namely the returning astronauts. She smiled to the woman the other agents sometimes called "Lupo" and said, "If they do get hold of the nuclear launch codes, please ask them to nuke my hometown first. There're some people back there I'd like to see gone, namely the guy to whom I gave my virginity, wow, what a waste of time that was, and to the City Council, which wouldn't endorse me for State Representative when I chose to enter politics."

She could see by Lupo's reaction that the Agent wasn't entertained by her jokes. Angela promised, "I'll do better. I promise." She wouldn't, of course. She asked one of the United Nations people, "Where are their families? The astronauts'?"

Angela was told, and she led the Expedition members that direction. A few minutes later, a heartwarming homecoming was underway. Captain Sally Keen's family was obviously concerned. Angela had already met with them, of course, and now she went to them again to reassure them that they'd see Sally soon, hopefully today.

Angela politely pulled aside the pilot, Richard Holsten, who was a civilian aviation pioneer and thus not addressed by a military title. "Mister Holsten, what can you tell me about the aliens and, more specifically, about this Emelia. We only have a few minutes, so, brevity is our friend."

Holsten explained that the aliens were humanoid, very similar in size and shape. "They wear a gray and black suit and helmet at all times, so honestly, Madam President, none of us has actually seen one of them." He chuckled. "To be honest, they kind of reminded me of the stormtroopers in that Mel Brooks movie, Spaceballs. Only, more serious and a bit scary in the way they watched us closely."

"How did you get from the International Space Station to the alien spaceship?" Angela asked.

The man shrugged. "We were on the escape ship one minute, deorbiting. The next, the five of us were coming to in a room on the ship. None of us has any memory of the transfer. We just woke up, lying on beds in a room that was otherwise empty. A few minutes later, Sally entered, telling us that she was now Emelia, that she had volunteered to be a liaison between alien, I mean Matluk and Human."

"So, you don't actually know that Captain Keen volunteered to do this then," Angela stated. "This Emelia is the one who told you that Captain Keen volunteered, after she'd already taken the captain's form or body or whatever."

"Yes, Madam President."

An aide entered the room. "Madam President, the second shuttle is landing now."

Angela was annoyed. She'd wanted to be at the landing site, of course. But the aide explained, "The shuttles don't show up on radar, Madam President. We didn't know it was arriving until it was."

Before Angela and her people could get back outside, Emelia and her own entourage were already inside. The alien was engaged in conversation with the UN Secretary in the middle of the Secretariat's first floor lobby. Angela was conflicted about what she saw. She'd never imagined that she would meet an alien, of course. She'd never imagined that if she did, the alien would look like a normal, everyday, Human Being. It was simply surreal. Where was the green skin, the bulbous head, the googly jet balck eyes, the antennae?

"It's good to meet you, Emelia," Angela said as she reached the alien. Ignoring what Lupo had warned, she offered out her hand Emelia took it. Angela continued, "We met once before. Captain Keen and I, I mean. At a reception for NASA astronauts, last year at the White House, in Washington DC."

Emelia said, "She remembers. Captain Keen's memories are intact and preserved, right here." She tapped a fingertip to her temple. "I am sure that if she could tell you so, Captain Sally Keen would tell you this is an honor, just as it is for me."

Emelia looked about herself. "I was told that I would be speaking to the General Assembly."

"Yes, absolutely," Angela said. She gestured Emelia to walk with her. "I was hoping, though, that perhaps the two of us could sit and talk for a bit first. I'd like to know more about--"

"I'm sorry, Madam President," Emelia interrupted politely. "I understand the importance of your particular nation, the United States of America, and of the importance and power of your leadership position. But what I have to say is for the entirety of your world."

Angela was a bit taken aback by Emelia's statements, but she understood. She reluctantly responded to Emelia, "Of course."

She turned Emelia over to the UN Secretary, who escorted the alien leader one direction as Angela and her people headed another. The Secretary entered the General Assembly Hall from an entrance behind the speaking stage and introduced their guest speaker. Emelia stepped out of the shadows and looked over the room as she approached the podium.

(Part 2 coming)

 

[AnnieBloom]

(Part 2)

Over 2,000 people crowded the hall: 1,000+ delegates and their aides on the floor; more than 300 journalists in booths and balconies along the walls; and 500 invited members of the public from around the globe. Almost immediately, applause filled the space and Humans rose to their feet. Such a greeting was more often than not reserved to those who'd made a step forward in fostering world peace. Emelia wasn't from this world, and some were still concerned that she and her people were actually here to destroy it.

After relative quiet reigned, Emelia reintroduced herself and her people, then once again reassured the friends, family, and coworkers of Captain Sally Keen that the astronaut was still alive and well within her body and would be home to her friends and family soon. Then, she got down to business.

"For hundreds of millennia, the Matluk people have visited planets across this quadrant of the galaxy, planets that contain intelligent, advanced life. There have been dozens of such planets. Dozens. You, the Human race, are not nearly as alone in the universe as you might have thought yourself."

In a balcony reserved for the United States, Angela was surprised to see and hear a second round of applause. Scenes from alien invasion movies had been dancing about in her head ever since the arrival of the Matluks. Emelia continued, "Some of these races are more advanced than your own, while some of them are not. Some have achieved space flight, even faster than light travel, as have the Matluk. Some are still firmly spending their days with their feet firmly on the ground without even the thought of flying through their own atmospheres, let alone through the stars."

Emelia's polite smile faded, and her tone became more serious. "Some, like yourselves, allowed their advances in civilization to endanger the future of their planets. Pollution. Population growth. Resource depletion. Environmental degradation. War, strife, and disease. These and other factors endemic of societies that advance too quickly without putting as much thought into their actions as they should..."

Emelia paused as a murmur rose through the Assembly. Many of the delegates were no longer enjoying the alien's speech. Some of them were becoming outright angry. She continued, "Your race is destroying your planet. And the Matluk are here to help you turn things around."

The unhappy murmure was becoming an angry uproar. Some delegates hollered harsh comments Emelia's direction. Others rose and departed the hall. Ironically, others stood and applauded her. Angela murmured to her Chief of Staff, "Brave little bitch." She looked over her shoulder to Lupo, teasingly asking, "You remember the way out, right, in case we need to make a run for it?"

Down at the podium, Emelia continued over the growing uproar, "The Matluk are here to offer our Human hosts access to sciences and technologies, to innovations and new ways of thinking, that will save your planet from the imminent danger it is facing due to centuries of exploitation and lack of forward thinking."

The rumble dictated Emelia immediate departure. She turned and left the stage, retracing the route, accompanied by the UN Secretary and members of her security force. The passageway was secure, so there was no danger to Emelia. Just before they reached the building's exit, a security member informed the Secretary General, "Sir, the President of the United States is on her way. She's asking Emelia to wait."

Emelia slowed to a stop, contemplated, and said, "I will give the President one minute."

Angela arrived, indicated she wanted a private moment, and politely gestured Emelia away from the others. Angela apologized for the Assembly, conceded that Emelia probably should have expected that, then invited the alien leader to Washington DC. "I can guarantee you a better reception."

"I accept, Madam President," she said simply. Then, Emelia asked, "Is the family of Captain Sally Keen here?" She was told they were. "I would like to meet them as well."

"I'll have them at the White House when you--"

"I would like to meet them now, please," Emelia cut in. "I will wait for them in my shuttle."

Emelia departed with haste, leaving Angela standing all alone. She met with Sally Keen's parents and siblings, explained the situation, and after the Keens said they wanted to see their daughter, escorted them to the landing zone. An alien there politely told Angela, "The Emissary wishes for only the family of Captain Sally Keen to come aboard."

"I want one of my security people to accompany them," Angela stressed. Told that was okay, Angela looked to Lupo and said, "Stick with them, please. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not protocol. You're supposed to stick tight to me. Just, do this for me. I've got thirty other armed agents surrounding me and the building. I'm sure I'll be fine."

The family and Lupo headed into the shuttle. Inside, only the family was asked to join Emelia in a compartment beyond a door, the Secret Service agent asked to remain outside. A total of six grayish-black uniformed 'stormtroopers' stood about in various positions in pairs, all of them watching Lupo. Ironically, none of them seemed to be armed. Probably even more strange, they hadn't asked the Agent to disarm before coming aboard.

After five minutes, Sally Keen's father emerged to tell Agent Starr, "We're going up to the ship with our daughter. Emelia has given you permission to accompany us, if you'd like."

(Sorry if that was too long. They get shorter over time. Promise.)

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

In for a penny, in for a pound. For a moment M'Chel wondered if she could get transferred to Alaska. Maybe Zambia or Antarctica. Hell, Iraq would be safer than this shit. The Congo? The POTUS wanted her with the family, so she went with the family. If the aliens decided to blow the building apart she wasn’t gonna be able to get The President to safety fast enough. Not with what she had on her.

Fuck the aliens could probably turn the planet to glass from orbit, probably would if they got annoyed. When she did walk onto the shuttle the family got separated from her. Why? What was the point of her coming aboard just to have a wall between them? Mind control shit?

While the family was getting their brains melted Lupo walked up to a pair of guards and had a stare down with them. She didn’t reach for her weapon, not that she needed that for more than range. Weapons jammed, misfired, and ran out of ammo. So she was a weapon. To much military training, and older brothers.

After a few minutes she stepped back and moved to the door of the shuttle, just in case shit hit the fan and she had to escape. But then the father came out and told her she’d been given permission to go up north with the family.

Fuck. Pigs to the slaughter. I wonder if they find humans tasty? She thought for a moment. Did she get be the sexy companion to a cute alien in a blue box? NO!!!! She got to be the snack for alien invaders.

Standing in the shuttle doorway she pointed at herself and then up to the sky, before she looked over at the father. “So are we the main course or just an appetizer? Did you get your brain melted or are you even the Captain’s father anymore?”

 

[AnnieBloom]

On Emelia's shuttle:

The guards stood their ground unquestioningly as the Human performed her stare down of them. They stood rigid and unflinching, and one might have thought that inside those gray-black uniforms and helmets were androids. But their chests expanded and contracted with calm breaths, and slight movements in their hands and heads tended to speak of living beings.

The only thing that the Humans might have found strange about the guards was their similarity. It wasn't just the uniforms, which were identical with the exception of the rank insignia on the epaulettes. Each of the guards seemed to be identical in physical size. They were all 6'4" tall, with broad shoulders, slim waists, and seemingly powerful legs. Strip away the helmet and uniforms, and it was likely you were going to find a very well built, athletic alien beneath.

When Sally Keen's father appeared again, M'Chel asked if the lot of them was going to be a meal for the Matluk. "Did you get your brain melted or are you even the Captain’s father anymore?”

Larry Keen laughed. "No, I'm fine. We had a good talk with Sally. Emelia, I mean. We just, we just want to stay close to her a bit longer."

Sally's siblings emerged from the room to say that they would be staying on Earth. They wanted to be able to provide an anchor planetside for whatever was ahead.

Heading for the exit, the eldest sibling asked, "You coming, Agent? They're getting ready to leave."

Emelia appeared once more, and having heard the question, asked with a smile, "Would you like to see your planet in a way few people ever do, Agent?"

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Turning to face the Alien host. thing. M’Chel lifted an eyebrow. “You do realize we humans have been in space since 1961. And since then, we’ve put a lot of people in space, so it’s not exactly rare.” Agent Starr replied.

“But sure, I’ll go upstairs with you. So, will you be forcing more humans to get 'implanted' or whatever it is you did? What did you do anyway? What’s the process? When I get back, I’m going to be debriefed. And fumigated, probably bleached and probed too.”

“Even this little interaction will cause that, so I might as well go with you and make the treatment worth it.” M’Chel finished. “Just don’t do to me whatever you did to the Captain. And can you leave here? Or is it permanent?”

 

[HumanBean]

Moses Lake, Washington State:

Billy Grant's phone, tablet, laptop, and desktop were all sitting on his desk when they chimed almost simultaneously with the notification of an email. He had been hanging a picture at the time. The sounds scared the crap out of him, and now the frame lay on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass. He shook his head, thinking, "Fuck."

He opened the message, finding it was from a previously unknown conservation organization. It invited him to a conservation conference in New York City. He was going to delete the message, thinking it spam or fraud. Click bait, he thought to himself. He'd open it and his computer would be frozen. His virus protection was the best. He checked the message for dangers. Nothing.

What the heck. Give it a try. He opened the email and began reading. The deeper into it he got, the more interesting it became. The organization was promoting new policies, techniques, and partnerships. It was all very revolutionary. The problem was that it was very revolutionary. Revolutionary ideas in conservation rarely got anywhere these days. People just didn't care. Okay, so, some did. Like Billy. But he was an outlier.

The last paragraph made him laugh. It was an offer of a free four-day weekend trip to Washington. Not Washington State, where he already was. The other one. The District. Scam, he told himself. But the ideas presented were overwhelming. Billy began a deep dive into the organization, the concepts it presented, the administrators and directors, and more. Four hours later, he clicked on the Join me up! link. Within seconds, he had confirmations for a round-trip flight between the two Washingtons, a room reservation in a 4-star hotel, and a voucher to pick up a $600 debit card at a local DC bank for expenses he might incur.

He cleaned up the shattered glass and returned to his work. But he couldn't stop thinking about what he'd read. It was a spectacular opportunity. An out of this world opportunity to work with incredible people. If only Billy had understood how out of the world these people actually were.

 

[AnnieBloom]

United Nations, New York City
Aboard the Matluk shuttle:

“You do realize we humans have been in space since 1961," Agent Starr said. "And since then, we’ve put a lot of people in space, so it’s not exactly rare.”

With an apologetic tone, Emelia responded, "I mean no disrespect to your planet's advancements in space travel. It is a matter of duration. Your race has been sending ships into space for less than a century. The Matluk have been doing the same and more for hundreds of thousands of years."

"Just how far have your people traveled," Larry Keen asked.

"Oh, that is a complicated question, Mister Keen," Emelia told him. "What if we left that until later in the day, and I will have one of my technicians explain it to you in the Cosmosphere."

"The what?"

She chuckled. "The Cosmosphere. It is a, well, it will be easier to explain if you are standing in it."

M'Chel agreed to remain on the shuttle as it returned to its mother ship, but questioned what had happened to Sally Keen and whether it would be done to anyone else. Emelia laughed at his references to being implanted, fumigated, bleached, and probed.

“Just don’t do to me whatever you did to the Captain," he demanded.

"I will not. I promise."

He asked if the Captain's transformation was permanent. Emelia had already explained this to the Keens, but now told M'Chel, "Not at all. When it is time for me to leave Captain Keen's body, I will do so, and she will be reset back to the point at which this all began. She will have all of her previous memories. She will suffer no mental or physical degradation. She will be Captain Sally Keen all over again."

"Does she know what's happening now? See and hear what we're doing and talking about," Rosemary Keen asked. "I mean, is she, what's the word, aware? Conscious?"

"In a manner of speaking," Emelia said. "She sees and hears, as you asked. But she won't remember. However, at any moment, if she wants her life back, if she wants to cease my use of her as the Emissary, it is totally within her power to simply make it happen."

"She just says 'let me out' and she's out?" Rosemary asked.

Emelia smiled. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

A guard with epaulettes that seemed to indicate some rank gestured to Emelia. She looked to the three Humans. "We are ready to leave the planet and return to the Matluk mother ship." She chuckled. "I hear it's being called that. Mother ship. I like that."

Emelia asked them to follow her. She led them forward, up a deck, forward farther, then up another deck. They came to a room that seemed to be the nose of the ship. A domed ceiling met the floor beneath them. The front of the room was pointy. Emelia spoke to no one in particular, "Full view."

Suddenly, the domed ceiling/walls seemed to vanish. The City of New York appeared as if they were standing outside on a raised balcony or deck near the Secretariat building. Emelia again spoke. "Chairs, three. Center."

Three stools with comfortable backs rose out of the floor at the center of the compartment. She told them, "The chairs are for you comfort, not your safety. Because of our advanced technology, you will not feel even the slightly movement of the shuttle as it lifts and--"

Suddenly, the city began falling away beneath them. There had been no warning that they were about to take off: no sound, no vibration, no roaring or whirring motor. They simply rose.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“Interesting,” Agent Starr replied looking round as the craft moved. “Saying she can quit at anytime is rather… questionable.”

“After all she could be inside screaming to be let out, and you just say no. The Captain could be gone and you just absorbed her memories. You could just be waiting until you’ve absorbed all her memories and then you claim you’ve left her and she’s back. But it’s not her back it’s just you with her memories.”

“And no, I’m not cynical, I’m paid to question everyone and everything’s motives and actions. To consider what, why, and what are you getting out of it. It keeps me and my protectorate alive.”

Unlike others the crafts smoothness didn’t give her the heebie jeebies or vertigo. She had older brothers and grew up with a boat on lake Erie’s and the Saint Lawrence River. She water skies, jet skies, sail boated, wind and water surfed before she was fifteen. She’d been dared to stand on the bow of the boat so often she had better sea legs than most. She’d hang glided, free fallen and HALO jumped as part of her military training. She’d been in a submarine and on an Aircraft carrier. Space was the final frontier on because the training took so long, and once it was done it was done. The thrill was gone once you did it.

“So you’re the benevolent alien race come to save us from ourselves? What if the Humans on the planet say no??”

 

[HumanBean]

The White House, Washington DC:

Vice President Clark Griffin watched the live broadcast of Emelia's United Nation's speech from his office. He couldn't help but feel delight in how the Matluk leader was received by the delegates. Tell us how to run out planet, will you? Why don't you go back to your own? Do you even have a planet still? Probably destroyed it, and now you're here to do the same to ours.

There was a soft knock on his door. His executive assistant entered, saying, "They're here, sir."

"Send them in, Lois," Clark responded. "And bring us some espressos. I know they're both fans of your Ethiopian blend."

A moment later, the Director of the CIA and the Deputy Director of the FBI entered. Each were old friends of the Veep and had received their positions after the election due to Clark's influence. "Sit down gentlemen."

They chatted idly until the secretary had returned, then departed. Then they got down to business. For almost three hours, they spoke of the current situation regarding the aliens and the President's acceptance of them. By the time the two men rose to leave, the three of them had hatched a plan. They were sure that the relationship between Emelia and POTUS would sour once the true reason for the alien's presence was discovered. And when that happened, they'd pounce. Clark would become the party's choice to run for President next year. The CIA Director would become Secretary of State. The FBI Deputy Director would become the Secretary of Homeland Security. And all would be right in the world.

 

[AnnieBloom]

Agent Starr again questioned Emelia's vow that Sally Keen had voluntarily given herself to this venture of playing liaison between the Matluk and Human races.

"Yes, Captain Keen may quit anytime," Emelia said. "I wish there was some way that I could prove that to you. To disconnect, if I can use that word, enabling the Captain to reassure you herself, would mean an end to her service. There is no going back, as one might say."

Emelia looked away from the agent to the Keens, who had moved closer to the now transparent walls of the shuttle to see the city beyond. The craft rose slowly at first, then accelerated from miles per hour in the single digits to double digits and then triple digits. The view was spectacular, unbelievable, and seemingly impossible. The floor and walls had seemingly disappeared, leaving the four human and one Matluk floating in place. It wasn't magic, of course, but was science. Dozens of sensors placed about the shuttle's exterior recreated the view of its 360-degree surroundings and reproduced them on the walls and floor surrounding the Emissary and her guests.

Rosemary Keen latched onto her husband initially, thinking she was being lifted into the air and might suddenly drop to the ground. But after relaxing, tapping her foot on the floor to ensure that it was still there, she moved about with growing confidence, then turned her full attention to the world beyond the vessel.

The view continued to expand with each passing second. Initially, they could see only the grass and surrounding trees of the landing zone and the Secretariat building. Then there was the river to the east and more buildings in other directions. Then, block by block, neighborhood by neighborhood, and finally borough by borough the entirety of New York City revealed itself.

"I need a chair," Rosemary said. "I'm feeling light-headed."

Emelia stepped up as hostess. She moved to the nearest of the backed stools, took hold of it, and moved it toward the other woman as if it was on wheels. It wasn't but was instead attracted to the deck through a feature that was neither magnetic or adhesive but something far harder to explain. She positioned it near to where Missus Keen was and helped her onto it, smiling and saying, "It can be overwhelming the first time you experience it."

Looking back, Emelia found Larry Keen very near the wall of the compartment reaching out to touch a fingertip to it. Each time, the point of contact rippled, like a small stone hitting the otherwise perfect smooth surface of a pond. He was seemingly more thrilled at the science than he was the expanding view around him. But then he turned his attention to the world beyond, and his face lit up.

New York City gave way to the central eastern seaboard as the speed continued to increase from hundreds of miles per hour to thousands. They had long since broken through the light cloud cover and began to experience the curvature of the world. The blue sky above gave way to the darkness of the void.

"Are we in outer space?" Rosemary asked her husband, who had crossed the floor to stand with her.

"Close," he said. "Very close."

They hadn't been traveling straight up as if on a rocket but had been traveling in an arc that took them from above the State of New York down along the eastern seaboard, a bit further inland until they had broken through the atmosphere over the South and then passed over the Gulf of Mexico.

Emelia explained, "While I was down on the planet, the mother ship, as I have been told it is referred to by many Humans, continued to orbit the planet. We are moving to put it in stationary orbit over New York City, to be close to the United Nations, but we have not achieved that position yet."

She looked downward, then around, then asked her host's father, "Can you tell me what's below us at this moment in time?"

Larry searched the planet below them and began pointing as he answered, "That's the Gulf Coast of Florida. And over there is Cuba. And that--" He paused. "That's gotta be Yucatan. That's part of the country of Mexico. So, we're over the Gulf of Mexico."

Looking to a huge weather system out in the western reaches of the Gulf of Mexico, he said with a cautious tone, "That's Maxine."

"Maxine?" Emelia asked as if confused. She knew what he was speaking of but wanted to hear it from him.

"It's a hurricane," he continued. "Last I heard, it was aiming directly at Corpus Christie. It's gonna be bad. Category 5 the news said."

"How high are we?" Rosemary asked with awe.

Emelia again smiled to her guest. "I do not know precisely. Three thousand kilometers perhaps. Less than two thousands miles but increasing. Because of its mass and speed, the mothership must maintain a very high orbit to achieve a stationary orbit. We are still working on achieving such."

"Look!" Rosemary suddenly called out, pointing not down toward a planetary feature but out toward space just over the horizon of the planet. "Is that it?"

The mothership had been in view for several minutes by now, but Emelia had not said anything. She'd wanted her guests to spot it first. From this distance, it still looked small, just a bright dot of reflected sunlight in the blackness of space. But as the distance between it and shuttle decreased, it began to take form. Eventually, the full wonder of it became present.

The mother ship was, like its shuttle, shaped almost like a dirigible from Earth's early 20th century only much longer at almost 2,000 meters in length, not the 245 of such famous, or infamous, craft as Germany's Hindenburg. The surface was not smooth like a dirigible but had hundreds of features that had one thing or another to do with systems operating within it, as well as with navigation in the front of the vessel, communications in the middle, and propulsion in the back.

When the shuttle passed directly under the mother ship, it turned 180 degrees and accelerated forward to match its parent's speed and direction. It rose, closing the distance as it neared a 'divot' in the hull that was its berth. The guests would be able to see twenty other shuttles currently in their berths. Would they notice the six or seven or so berths that were currently empty and wonder where those shuttles were? Emelia hoped not, because she wasn't about to explain the absences at this point in time.

Suddenly, the 360-degree view vanished, replaced by the unimpressive appearance of the once-again solid floor and curving overhead. Emelia explained, "I am sorry, but the transparent mode does not function during docking. Please, take your seats."

Along the bulkhead that contained the door through which they'd all passed, more conventional flight seats with belt, buckles, and arm rests rose from beneath. Emelia herself sat in one and buckled in, explaining, "The shift in power sources and navigation types can sometimes be a bit bumpy, let us call it."

They couldn't see what was happening outside anymore, of course. After a minute or so, there was a jolt that felt like rough turbulence, and then nothing but some distant mechanical sounds. Emelia unbuckled, stood, and said, "Please, come with me."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Thousands of miles from the earths surface to achieve a geosynchronous orbit sounded like bullshit to M’Chel, but she wasn’t a scientists so she’d report it when she got back. If she got back. Sitting down as requested she frowned when it wasn’t as ‘bumpy’ as she figured it would be.

Stepping out onto the deck of the mothership she looked around. And then as their guide showed them to their rooms she was measuring the place. She knew her stride length, including short walking with group and long solo stride.

Te deck and walls were metal like a naval carrier, but the space was wider and taller than she’d have expected. Did they have to move large equipment through the halls? Was it for massive troop movements?

She took note of everything she could. Height and width of halls, distance between doors, everything she could. The ship had to be as big as Vew York City. Especially when you factored in how tall the place was.

Of course she asked a billion questions, not that she expected any answers. If anything M’Chel figured she’d be the first on the dinner menu. “So is you natural species vegetarian, omnivore, herbivore, carnivore, or have you moved past the idea of eating and instead o you subsist on rainbows, air, and moonbeams? How many are on board this ship? How does it move? Gravitational propulsion or something else? Are the guards biological or other? How many different species serve aboard this ship? Do you have slaves? Is this a military based ship or civilian? Do you have a government with elected officials or is it something else?”

“I apologize for the questions, but everyone on Earth will want to know these things and more. Do you believe in God, or gods, or something else?”

When she was finally led into her quarters on the ship she was fairly certain the guide was happy to be away from the constant questions. Moving through the rooms she checked for anything that might be a listening device, though the aliens probably had it built into the lighting system.

At least in the residential area’s the floors were carpeted. And amazingly they didn’t use 1970’s shag rug carpets with 2 inch thick piles. Great for sex, shitty for vacuums.

 

[HumanBean]

The Australian Outback:

The Matluk had been using the Human name James Sullivan since his arrival on Earth. Emelia had arrived in orbit of the planet eight days ago. James had been here for eight years. His cloaked vessel had orbited the globe undetected for another two years before that. And for a full three decades before that, his ship had wandered about this system from planet to planet, moon to moon, asteroid to asteroid, seeking their treasure.

They'd hoped to find what they were after without coming to Earth. Earth had a problem. Earth had Humans. Humans in general weren't the problem. It was their insatiable curiosity. Their needs to know everything. To understand everything. And for many of them, to get their grubby hands on everything. Capitalism. It would be the death of this planet. Or it might have been. If the Matluk hadn't finally arrived.

Those were bigger issues than those that had brought James to Earth. He had only one concern: Geovik. It was a very unique and very rare element found deep in Earth's crust. It was so deeply located that even Matluk technology had had a difficult time finding it. It had taken James's team six years to find a vein worthy of mining. Fortunately, it was in Australia's outback. They could mine here without detection. And if they were discovered, they'd likely be mistaken for your average prospectors.

They hadn't mined yet, though. They hadn't had the equipment for what needed to be done. Not until now. Not until the Emissary's arrival. James emerged from the shack in which he'd lived for the last two years. He looked down at his pad, then up at the sky. Seconds later, the shuttle he'd seen indicated on the radar exited stealth mode.

James smiled. It was good to see others of his kind arriving. He was the last of a team of six who'd come down to the planet to prepare for mining. He was lonely for his culture. Ironically, he wasn't as lonely as he should have been. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught sight of Camille. His wife. His human wife.

She stood naked in a big metal tub, washing her body with an oversized, soapy sponge. She was beautiful. Shapely, Sexy beyond belief. James hadn't understood how incredible she was when he first met her, of course. Human physical attributes weren't something he'd been raised to judge, obviously. But over time, as he learned about the species, he came to understand them. He'd come to understand that Cami was a 10. An 11 or 12 even. Off the scale.

If she had had the inkling, she could have been a supermodel. A centerfold. But she'd wanted more. It was her search for that more that had resulted in the two of them meeting. James had needed companionship at the time. He'd been the last Matluk left. He was lonely. He'd been a human, physically, physiologically. So, it had made perfect sense to him to find that companionship with other humans. He'd found her. And he had never been lonely again.

She turned to look at James, then looked up into the sky, seeing the shuttle as it descended toward Earth. They met eyes again. James had told her what he was and why he was on Earth the night he'd told her he loved her. He hadn't wanted any secrets between them. And being from outer space could have been quite a secret to keep. She'd laughed at first. Then she'd just stared in disbelief. But she'd come to believe James and accept him for what he was. They'd been in love. They still were in love. His being a Matluk in a human's body wasn't going to diminish that love.

James waited for the shuttle to settle. He crossed to it, arriving as the doors opened. As with the Emissary's shuttle, the Guards who stepped out were dressed in gray-black uniforms and helmets. He spoke with them several minutes. He walked to Cami, telling her, "The equipment will arrive tomorrow."

 

[AnnieBloom]

Emelia directed a guard to escort Mister and Missus Keen to their room and a second one to do the same for M'Chel. The guard told M'Chel in perfect English, "I am to answer any questions you may have, so long as they do not violate the vessel's security measures. You may call me Carl."

Just as Emelia's name wasn't really Emelia, Carl's wasn't Carl. But there was no way this or any other Human would be able to pronounce his Matluk name.

M'Chel asked, “So, is your natural species vegetarian, omnivore, herbivore, carnivore, or have you moved past the idea of eating and instead you subsist on rainbows, air, and moonbeams?"

"I am in the form of my natural species," the Matluk said, responding to the Human's assumption that he, too, had occupied a Human. To the actual question asked, he answered simply, " We are vegetarians."

"How many are on board this ship?" M'Chel asked.

"I am not permitted to answer that question. Sorry."

"How does it move? Gravitational propulsion or something else?"

"I am not part of the engineering department," the guard said. "I can make a request of the Chief Engineer to explain this to you at a future time. What I do know is that we use a fusion power source to initiate time/space displacement."

M'Chel continued, "Are the guards biological or other?"

"We are biological." Again, the answer was short and sweet. But then he added, "The helmets and suits are worn to prevent biological contamination between our species. There is no need for you to worry while onboard. Detectors and emitters throughout the mother ship and at the doors of the shuttles scan for and eliminate potential biological dangers."

They arrived at and entered M'Chel's quarters. They were basic but comfortable, with undecorated walls, sparse but comfortable furniture, and an obvious lack of a kitchenette. The Matluk pointed the Human to a panel on the wall. "If you are hungry, touch here." He demonstrated by touching an icon, bringing up a picture menu of courses of food. "Tap a course, and you will be offered options. An attendant will have it to you within five minutes. If you wish to sample Matluk cuisine, there is an option for that, too. It is all safe for you to eat. We know this because we tested it on the crew of you space station, and only three of them went to the infirmary with food poisoning."

There was a short pause, a laugh from behind the mask, and an apology. "Sorry. That was supposed to be funny."
T
The guard touched another icon, and the far wall vanished, as had the walls and floor of the shuttle. "I am sorry that only this one bulkhead features the transparency mode."

He tapped again, returning the wall as M'Chel looked around, then continued her questions. "How many different species serve aboard this ship?"

"Just one. We do not transport species from their home planet to other planets."

Regarding the question about slaves, the guard returned to a simple and direct answer. "No."

"Is this a military-based ship or civilian?" the Human asked. "Do you have a government with elected officials or is it something else?”

The guard hesitated. "I am not certain whether or not I am allowed to speak on this. I think this question should be put to the Emissary. Sorry."

“I apologize for the questions," M'Chel said, "but everyone on Earth will want to know these things and more."

"I am sure they will," the Matluk agreed. "You are welcome to share what I have told you. We have no secrets."

That was an ironic statement for the guard to make as he'd already not answered some of M'Chel's questions. But everyone had secrets. The Matluk were no different.

"Do you believe in God, or gods, or something else?”

"I am not certain whether or not I am allowed to speak on this," the guard again said. "Sorry." The guard turned, saying, "I will leave you to make yourself at home. If you need anything at all, use the communication panel. There will be an attendant outside your door if you wish to see any more of the ship. You can tell the attendants from the guards by their white uniforms."

M'Chel may have noticed one of the attendants earlier in the passageway. She may have also noticed that, like the guards, they all seemed to have the same height, weight, shape, and style of walking, as if the attendants were all selected to fit a tight physical description.

"I have not been told how long Captain Keen's parents wish to remain on board," the guard said, pressing the button that caused the door to the quarters to slide open. "I am certain, though, that if they decide to remain onboard longer than you wish to, that the Emissary will assign a shuttle to return you to the surface."

 

[AnnieBloom]

The Australian Outback:

Camille Barker had been an American tourist exploring the Australian Outback when she'd met James Sullivan. She'd fallen in love with him almost immediately. He'd treated her with more respect than anyone ever had before. To most men, she was just a sexy piece of meat they wanted to eat up. James hadn't even seemed to understand how incredibly beautiful she was in the beginning.

He'd invited her and her tour group to abandon their itinerary and come see the real Outback. Camille had been the only one to take him up on the offer. And she'd been with him since, going on two years now. They'd built a home that was little more than a one room shack on a piece of ground more than 100 miles from the nearest neighbor. They had a spring fed pond, tree cover for shade, nearby hills and cliffs for adventures, and each other.

Twice a year, whether they really needed to or not, they charged the electric truck's batteries and drove to town to spend a week restocking on perishables and other needs. James would also spend some time with a man who he'd introduced Camille to once but never had her meet again. She'd been suspicious of this man initially. She'd wondered if maybe James was on the run from the law and this man was his contact with his previous, abandoned life. But she'd never questioned James about it. She loved who he was now and wasn't concerned at all with who he might have been once upon a time.

She'd always known that there was something special about her love, something different. It wasn't until he sat her down under their favorite tree on a beautiful, cool morning and told her that he was an alien that everything began to click into place. She still found it incredible that she hadn't even questioned his wild tale. It, just, clicked!

Camille had, of course, asked James why he was here on Earth. "Are you studying us? Are others coming to invade us or destroy our planet or enslave us?"

He'd said no to each of those, of course. James told her about Geovik and about his people's need for it. The Matluk, they were called, would come to Earth one day and trade their advanced technologies for the Geovik, which the Humans wouldn't miss because they didn't even know it existed. She'd believed him, of course. James Sullivan had never lied to Camille Barker, as far as she knew.

She'd believed and trusted him so much that she'd proposed to him. James hadn't understood the concept of marriage, but as soon as she'd explained it, he'd powered up the truck and said, "Let's go find one of these Peace Justices."

"Justice of the Peace," she'd corrected with a laugh, "but close enough." They'd hurried over the arid landscape to town, waited 11 days for the Circuit Judge to come through, got married, and returned home to fuck almost constantly for the next two days.

Standing now in a tub near the water pump, running a soapy sponge heavy with sun warmed water over her body, she looked to her husband with a smile. She caught him looking up into the sky and witnessed the shuttle simply appearing out of the air like something out of Star Trek or The Orville. She laughed, embarrassed, calling, "You didn't tell me they'd be here so early!"

Running barefoot into the shack, Camille dried, dressed, and pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Outside again, she stood in the shade of the shack's porch roof, watching her husband as he crossed their property to once again be with people from his own planet. She knew what it meant for James to have this again. She'd lost her last close family member just months before her trip to Australia, and she hadn't had a great many close friends back home either. She wondered sometimes if the reason she'd fallen so hard in love with James was that neither of them had anyone. It had been destiny that they meet.

Two of his people emerged from the shuttle, dressed in gray and black uniforms and helmets. Camille's first thought, of course, was they have to be baking in those things! James spoke with the pair several minutes, then returned to her, saying, "The equipment will arrive tomorrow."

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, which was easy as she was two inches taller than him, even in her bare feet. "That's wonderful! I know how long you've been waiting for this."

She kissed him softly, then passionately. Looking to the shuttle and seeing the two Matluk just standing there looking their way, she chanced, "Can I meet them? I've never met an alien before." She laughed, knowing full well that she hadn't only met an alien but had been fucking one for almost two years.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Into the wild blue yonder....

After her guard left Agent Starr walked around her ‘residence’ looking at everything. They certainly were proud of the transparent wall trick. Probably just a giant ass tv monitor anyway. A trick to prevent you from getting claustrophobic. They did that in Resident Evil for the underground workers... and look how that turned out.

She’d starve before she ate microbes from another planet. Kazakhstan had been bad enough; Martian food would be worse. Looking through the meal options she was curious if they had soylent green on the menu.

After poking, prodding, and stroking every surface she could in her efforts to find anything she wasn’t supposed to, she stepped into the hall and started her own tour. The lighting system was recessed into the ceiling and walls generating a perpetual whiteness with no shadows, so no ducking into corners or anything. No raised edges on the floor for her to trip on, and even the edges had a weird smoothness to them.

Putting her hand on the wall/bulkhead she didn’t feel any vibration, if anything the wall felt weirdly smooth. Which was weird in and of itself, since M’Chel could always feel vibration. Even on a wall on Earth. There was always something making motion. Wind in the trees, generators, power lines, cars on the interstates, tanks, guns going off, people walking, there was always motion. Not feeling it was weirder than shit.

When an ‘attendant’ approached her she ignored him. She didn’t want a tour guide. If he/it followed her that was fine. But she expected the same nonanswers she’d gotten from the guard. There were no doors which was weird, except she knew there had to be doors, because no one built a ship without doors. Bio locked so only an authorized person made them appear? Certainly, one way to make sure you didn’t walk in the wrong door.

“So where is everybody? Where’s the medical bay? Who do you possess a person? What do you look like under the helmet? Are you clones? How many biological genders do you have? How far did you travel?? How long did it take? Is there a bridge for this ship? Is it mind control or physical operational? Manual? Automatic? If you eat meat, do you explode? Gastrointestinal issues? Do you have entertainment? Music, TV, Movies? Bands? Are you male or female? Do you eat Humans? Are you omnivores as a species? What's the bases for your weapons? Chemical, Electrical, Light, Neurological? Stun or lethal? Is your species psychic? How many Gods do you have if you have any? What are the floors made of? Are the residential carpets plant based or synthetic? What the propulsion system of your ships? Why are all of you the same height and build. Are you reptilian under those helmets, or are you ugly, or so attractive we couldn’t handle it?”

Agent Starr figured if she asked enough questions they’d answer just to get her to shut up.

 

[HumanBean]

The Australian Outback:

"Can I meet them?" Camille asked. "I've never met an alien before."

James joined his wife in her laugh. "I can do better than that. Go put your shoes on."

She did, then returned. He took her hand and led her to the shuttle. The two uniformed Matluk were sitting at the control panels at the front. This was a much smaller shuttle than the one the Emissary had used to reach New York City this very same day, half a world away. Inside, Camille could see all of the interior except the portion in the engineering space, beyond an aft bulkhead.

"Sit here," he told her. He gestured to a seat near one side of the vessel. He took the one next to her. The doors closed. A moment later, the shuttle began rising. "Don't be afraid."

Just as had happened outside the UN building, this shuttle's walls seemed to disappear. James reassured Camille, "We are perfectly safe."

The craft rose slowly at about 45 degrees. It banked, keeping the little shack on Camille's left. Increasingly, the home got smaller and smaller. The land fell away as the craft's altitude increased. It increased the size of the circular course it was flying. Ultimately, the shuttle reached the absolute extreme reaches of the atmosphere. Below them was the continent of Australia. Above them was the void of space. In one circuit, Camille would see the coastlines to the north, west, south, and east.

"What do you think?" James asked. "Beats that balloon ride we took all to hell, doesn't it?

James barely looked at the continent below. His attention was fully on his wife and her wonder at what she was seeing. He imagined that the look on her face was similar to the one that had been on his the first time they'd made love. His orientation had included a general overview of the Human custom of sexual bonding, of course. But nothing other than cumming inside of her that first time could have prepared James.

He couldn't believe that Camille had stayed with him after discovering what he was.