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It’s almost here!

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• darkness and light

• creation and destruction

• the past and the future

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“I’ll only be up there for two days,” Commander Jordan Watkins assured his wife, Alice.

The two stood by the window inside the mission command center, looking to the launch pad that waited outside.

“That’s what you said last time,” Alice smirked, crossing her arms.

“That was a fluke,” Watkins said. “A faulty thruster changed our re-entry window. This time I doubled checked everything myself. It won’t happen again.”

Alice squinted suspiciously.

“Come on, honey. You should be proud of me and Tim. We’re the first to fly the new US-7902 Orbiter,” Watkins said. “It’s the first manned Earth orbiter with it’s own lander. We’re landing right back on the pad where we’ll launch! It will be a momentous occasion.”

“Isn’t our wedding anniversary a momentous occasion?”

Watkins dropped his shoulders and took her hand. “I told you. I’ll be home in two days. I’ll be back in plenty of time for our anniversary and we’ll do something special.”

A slight smile emerged through Alice’s cynical look.

“I need to get going,” Watkins said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Tim is waiting.”

“See you in two weeks.” Alice rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Two days! I promise.”

[day one]

A few hours into Earth’s orbit, Watkins stared out the window at the Pacific Ocean below. “What about a cruise?” he asked his co-pilot, Captain Timothy Prescott.

“How long have you and Alice been married now? Ten years?” Prescott asked, looking up from his clipboard. “Aren’t you supposed to get her sterling silver or something like that?”

“That’s 25 years,” Watkins said.

“You’ve been married for 25 years?!”

“No, Tim. Sterling silver is the gift for 25 years. We’ve been married for ten.”

“Really?” Prescott said, floating back into the co-pilot’s seat. “Emily told me ten years was sterling silver. If I’d known that I never would have spent that much money. I think she just wanted me to get her—”

Something rocked the orbiter.

Darkness.

An alarm sounded.

“System failure!” Watkins shouted, gripping the sides of the captain’s seat as the orbiter shook.

“Rerouting to backup pow—” Prescott stopped short and raised his hands.

The alarm stopped.

The orbiter was still.

“It’s back. I didn’t do anything. The system just came back online.”

“What happened?” Watkins asked.

“I don’t know. All systems are working fine now. No indication of damage either.”

“All systems had better be fine,” Watkins said. “I promised Alice no delays.”

[day two]

“Mission Control, we have re-entered the atmosphere and we’re preparing to land,” Commander Watkins said into the radio. “There’s no response,” he said, turning to Prescott.

“I’ve checked and checked again, Commander,” Prescott said. “The radio’s working. They’re just not answering.”

Outside the window, Florida drew nearer as their craft continued its flight path toward the landing pad.

“Watkins, these coordinates are correct but look.” Prescott pointed out the window.

“What the—” was all Watkins could muster.

The remains of the landing pad peeked through years — decades even — of trees and foliage.

“Where did all this come from?” Prescott asked.

“Think you can put us down?”

Prescott nodded and slowly brought the craft down, right on top of the U.S. insignia where they took off from just the day before. But now it was now almost entirely covered with roots and vines.

The two opened the hatch and looked around.

“What happened here?” Watkins said, stepping out from the orbiter.

He squinted in the bright daylight. A fresh breeze and the sound of birds greeted him.

“Isn’t that the command center?” Prescott pointed to a building completely overgrown by vines blooming with purple flowers.

“Yes, but—”

Watkins stopped and put his hand to his brow to block the sunlight. A group of figures approached, carrying spears and dressed in animal furs.

“Tai gongo tat minfel etipah,” the figure in front said, pounding his spear into the ground. His head was bald and tattooed with three stripes that ran down the back of his neck and disappeared under the ragged skin he wore as a shirt.

“What?” Watkins asked, looking at Prescott to see if he understood.

Prescott shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Watkins replied. “We don’t understand.”

The man with the spear raised his hand and said something to one of his partners who immediately ran off, back in the direction of the command center.

A moment later, his partner returned with an old man, hunched and walking slowly with the aid of a bent staff.

“Liy fu mun minfel atta,” the man with the spear said, putting his hand on the old man’s shoulder.

Watkins looked at Prescott, confused.

“He says you speak the old tongue,” the old man said. “Is that so?”

“We speak English, yes” Watkins said tentatively.

“Perhaps the prophesy was misinterpreted,” the old man said.

“Prophesy?” Watkins said. “What’s going on here? What’s this about?”

“The ancient prophesy that two people will arrive at this spot, in a vessel like yours, bringing knowledge of the past.”

“Knowledge of the past?” Prescott said.

“But you look like two men." The old man extended his arm. “The prophesy said it would be two women.”

— to be continued —

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Lieutenant General Javier Cadiz Meade has served his country for decades, navigating war zones and shadowy corridors of power. But nothing has prepared him for the Sabia—an enigmatic extraterrestrial species whose arrival has upended Earth’s fragile balance of power. Their technological prowess defies comprehension, their intentions remain shrouded in mystery, and their presence has divided humanity.

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(Part one by )

“There goes another one,” I said, looking towards the sky. I wiped the dirt from my hands and stood, dropping my bag to the ground.

“Pay them no mind, Maria.” Mother didn’t bother to look up. She continued digging little holes in the garden for me to drop seeds into. “It’s just them drones again, taking food to the Feeders.”

“Those flying machines have food in them?” I asked. My stomach growled while I watched the drone fly over the hills and out of sight. “It just takes food to them while we have to work in the garden for ours?”

Mother turned to point at me with her gardening shovel. “Keep planting,” she said. “Them drones don’t carry real food anyway. Not like what we eat.”

I picked up my bag again and put my hand in. I rolled the small seeds between my fingers and then sprinkled a few into the hole Mother had dug.

“What are the Feeders like?” I asked.

“Now don’t you go thinkin’ the grass is greener,” Mother said. “You don’t want to be no Feeder. Much better to be like us. We produce. They only consume. We earn our place in this world. They waste theirs.”

I covered the seeds with dirt, pressed it firmly with my palm, and moved on to the next hole.

“Have you ever met a Feeder?” I asked.

Mother dropped her shovel and wiped her hands on her apron. “Why so many questions about the Feeders?”

“Just curious, I guess.”

“Many of my childhood friends grew up to be Feeders,” Mother said, her voice slow and sad. “Many in my family too.”

“So they’re real?” I asked. “The Feeders?”

“Well, of course they’re real.” Mother looked at me a little angry like I had just called her a liar. She took a deep breath and started digging another hole. “But I just couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what, Mother?”

“Couldn’t live that way,” she said without looking at me. “Just plugged in to some machine. All the time. All them wires an’ hoses hanging out of ‘em. Connected to the system but disconnected from reality. It ain’t no way to live.”

I stayed quiet while she spoke. This was the most she had ever spoken about the Feeders. Though I must admit, I wasn’t quite sure I believed everything she said.

Surely no one lived, all day, every day, plugged into a machine with wires and hoses. Right? At least not a whole population of people. Could they?

But what do I know? All I had ever known was my small village in the mountains. I had always felt so disconnected here from the rest of the world. Mother never let me go into town. She told me to stay far away from the Feeders or I might just become one.

The next day I woke up early. I lit a candle to do my chores before the sun came up.

That’s when I heard another drone fly over. I quickly peeked in Mother’s room and found her still sleeping soundly. I ran outside to see where the drone was headed.

I followed it over the hill and into the valley. From there I could see the town in the distance, just as the sun was coming up.

Running, I chased the drone until it came to the fence that marked the edge of our village. I stopped for a moment, my hands gripping the fence as I watched the drone fly further away.

I could still catch up to it if I jumped the fence now. But I’d never been outside the village before.

I looked back in the direction of my home, half expecting to see Mother standing at the top of the hill shaking a wooden spoon at me. But she wasn’t there.

Again, I looked at the drone floating further away.

Without another thought, I jumped the fence.

I ran to catch up with it. Out of an insatiable curiosity, I was now headed right to the town Mother had always warned me about.

The townsfolk were Feeders, she had always said. All of them. But what does Mother know? I’m 16 now. And I have every right to explore the world around me, don’t I?

The drone stopped at the roof of a house and I stared up at it, panting to catch my breath. I watched as it connected itself to a translucent pipe on top of the house. Then, with a suction sound, it delivered a mushy goo into the home and flew off to the next house. It didn’t look like food to me. Unless it was some kind of porridge.

I crept to the window to see if I could see where the mush had gone.

Inside, a person lay on a table, wearing a dirty gown and a set of goggles over his eyes. His skin was pale, shades of pink and gray, and sores covered his body. He convulsed sporadically, as if responding to some stimuli.

His mouth gaped open and, just like Mother had said, a hose ran down his throat. I cringed as the mushy goo ran down the pipe, through the hose and into his throat. For a moment the convulsions stopped as the goo entered his body.

I was utterly disgusted, yet thoroughly intrigued. I walked around to the front of the house and knocked on the door. No answer. No lock either. I walked right in.

“Hello?” I said. “Does this man need help?” Other than the man connected to the hose, there seemed to be no one there.

I slowly approached the man. He grunted and twitched. He couldn’t see me coming, his eyes still covered by the goggles.

As I got closer I noticed his ears were covered too — the goggles included some kind of headphones. I gently placed my hand on his arm and he jerked away violently, almost falling off the table.

He can’t see or hear me. Who did this to him?

Carefully, I leaned in closer and removed his goggles.

The man backed away in a panic and fell off the table. The hose slid out of his mouth.

“What did you do!? Put it back! I’ll starve! Put it back!” He said, his voice sounding raspy and weak like it hadn’t been used in years.

“Just breathe,” I said, my arms out to comfort him.

The man gripped his throat, his eyes completely bloodshot. He squinted as he tried to look at me.

“But there’s no air without the hose!” he yelled, hyperventilating.

“There’s plenty of air.” I gestured to my surroundings. “Just relax.”

His hyperventilating slowed to a pant. He stood slowly, steadying himself with the table.

“Where am I?” he wheezed.

“I assume this is your home.”

“No, my home is luxurious,” he said, half choking over his words. “I have a wife, two kids. A career. Many credits. What is this place?”

“Where are they?” I asked. “Your family.”

“They’re at home,” he said, beginning to breathe a bit normally now. “I was just there with them a moment ago. How did I get here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You were here when I got here. Just laying on that table looking half dead. What’s your name?”

“My name?” he said. “You mean my handle?”

“What do people call you?”

“Em Four Are Vee One En,” he rattled off.

“That’s your name? Em Four Are Vee One En?” I asked, squinting, picturing the characters in my mind. M4rv1n.

Marvin.

“M4rv1n! My name is M4rv1n! Now plug me back in before I die!”

[Read part two by here]

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But until then, tell me honestly, would you read this book? Read below and let me know in the comments.

Now you can read the first chapter of my upcoming novel, Second Chance, for free.

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Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, government cover-ups, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no AI ever and no smut ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. But you can be part of it from the start!

Preview my upcoming novel, Second Chance

I think you will love, Second Chance! Read the first chapter free and see what you think.

Click here to get the first chapter free

Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. You’re part of it from the start!

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— continued from part twelve — (or start with part one here)

“Wait!” Kaskahn pleaded.

King Vakniit raised his flowing arm and the orb behind him stilled.

“You said something when we visited you on Planet Scraarrel,” Kaskahn continued. “You taught us that knowledge is freedom.”

“Yes, Human Kaskahn,” King Vakniit said. “But, as I said, I am afraid Planet Earth is once again using knowledge for power, not for freedom.”

“And you also said freedom is our right.” Kaskahn added.

“Correct, Human Kaskahn,” the king said. “Freedom is the natural state of all living beings. Everyone has a right to freedom. But remember, freedom requires respect for the freedom of others. Just as people of Earth incarcerate criminals when they violate the freedoms of others, we cannot allow the Greater Knowledge to be used to violate freedom.”

“Understood. But I beg you, don’t extirpate the knowledge we humans have acquired on our own,” Kaskahn said. “Only remove the knowledge we’re not ready for. I revealed that knowledge to everyone with good intentions. Don’t punish all the people of Earth for my mistake. We may not be ready for the Greater Knowledge, but we have a right to the knowledge acquired through our own reason and experiences.”

There was a long pause as King Vakniit appeared to consider Kaskahn’s proposal.

“I know it may not always look like it,” Kaskahn continued. But humans are making progress. Not just for power. But real, true progress. I truly believe that.”

“He’s right.” Ayalana stepped forward. “Even General James Jenkins, a man in a position of great power, helped us in our search for the truth. He helped us for the greater good. Even when the Greater Knowledge had been revealed, he didn’t use it for his own gain. He sought to repair the damage it caused. He didn’t have to do that.” Ayalana looked over her shoulder at Jenkins who returned a nod and a stiff smile.

There was another long pause, then slowly, King Vakniit raised his flowing arm again. “Humans Kaskahn and Ayalana, you are a testament to your kind,” he said. “I find your faith in your people endearing.”

Kaskahn and Ayalana bowed in reply.

“For a long time have I watched the people of Earth,” the king continued. “You are a remarkable people, when you choose to be.”

The group seemed to hold their breath, waiting for King Vakniit to continue.

Finally he spoke again. “Out of respect for you and our friendship, I will grant your request.”

Kaskhan exhaled and smiled at Ayalana.

“We will only extirpate the Greater Knowledge revealed from your journey,” the king said. “However, there is still a problem. Your arrival back to Earth is evidence of a civilization that does not exist in Earth’s current recorded history. That means your presence here is evidence of the existence of Greater Knowledge.”

Ayalana looked concerned. “What are you saying? What does that mean for Kaskahn and me? Will we remember our trip after the extirpation? Will we remember you? Or the Scraarreli people? Or any of our 15-year journey?”

“Human Ayalana,” King Vakniit said. “Be at peace. After the extirpation, the citizens of Earth will have no memory of the Greater Knowledge. No memory of your arrival. No memory of your ancient civilization. And no memory of extraterrestrial beings. But fear not. I trust you and Human Kaskahn. I will keep your memories intact. However, you must agree to live out the rest of your lives as ordinary, modern citizens of Earth. You must not share what you know.”

Kaskahn and Ayalana exchanged glances.

“Agreed,” Kaskahn said.

“If I may offer some advice to the people of Earth,” King Vakniit said, “do not let your thirst for knowledge overshadow your true greatness.”

“Our true greatness?” General Jenkins asked. “What is our true greatness?”

“Your planet is large but your emotional capacity is small. As your advances in global communication bring news more quickly, humans struggle with the emotional burden of the knowledge of their entire planet. This is why our ambassador chose a full extirpation before.”

“What does all this have to do with human greatness?” Jenkins asked.

“Human greatness is found in what they do to help the people near them, not in how aware they are of what’s happening outside their span of control.” King Vakniit said. “Too often, I have watched your people become discouraged by what they see happening on the other side of the planet. It overwhelms them. They feel powerless to it. They decide there is nothing they can do to help. So they do nothing but watch and worry. But in truth, there is more greatness in one small deed for someone near you than there is in your helpless anguish for others far away.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Ayalana said. “You are right. That is very wise. But why do you give this advice right before you erase everyone’s memory? No one will remember what you said.”

“Human Ayalana,” the king said, “remember, I am not erasing your memories. I give this advice to you. It will be up to you and Human Kaskahn to model it for everyone.”

Ayalana nodded. “Understood.”

King Vakniit turned towards the orb. “Proceed as I have spoken,” he said to his people.

At his command, the orb began to pulse and undulate again. King Vakniit and his soldiers entered their craft as a bright light filled the sky. The entire planet illuminated with a light that blinded everyone.

Then suddenly, the light, and the ship, were gone.

Two weeks later

Kaskahn sat on his new couch, in the apartment he and Ayalana had recently moved into. He held the television remote in his hand, listening as a news anchor went on about a celebrity trial.

“Well, I guess the world is back to normal,” Kaskahn said to Ayalana who had just walked into the room. “Want to watch the news with me? That’s what ordinary, modern citizens of Earth do, right?”

“Thanks, but I can’t tonight,” Ayalana said, fastening an earring. “Officer Patrick Stephens has asked me to go to dinner with him.”

“Officer Patrick Stephens?” Kaskahn asked. “How does he remember you after the extirpation protocol?”

“Who said he does?” Ayalana said with a smile. “I can’t help it if I just happened to run into him at his favorite coffee shop last week.”

Kaskahn smiled. “Well, look at you,” he said. “You’re adjusting to modern life quite nicely.”

Ayalana put her heels on and grabbed her purse. “Maybe you should try it too,” she said as she opened the door to leave. “Get out, enjoy the good in the world. King Vankniit warned us not to worry too much about the people far away who we can’t help. That’s all the news talks about. Why don’t you get out and take care of the people near you?”

“I know, I know. I will, eventually,” he said. “Have fun tonight.”

The door closed and Kaskahn stood. “I guess I’ll have some dinner,” he said to himself as he walked into the kitchen. “If I can figure out this microwave.”

While he was in the kitchen, the television played in the living room for no one to hear:

— the end —

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— continued from part eleven — (or start with part one here)

“King Vakniit, Your Highness, I assure you, as soon as I discovered the misuse of the mind control I nullified its effects as quickly as possible. I was simply undoing the damage caused—” Kaskahn stopped short, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

“Humans Kaskahn and Ayalana, my friends, have no fear. You did well. Your intentions were pure. Your motivations noble,” King Vakniit said. “However, this being a repeat violation of the agreement, we are forced to take action once again.”

“Repeat violation?” Ayalana asked. “Your highness, I don’t understand.”

King Vakniit’s flowing arms reached out towards Kaskahn and Ayalana. “Human Monorocco chose you both wisely to represent Earth. Your purity of heart led the Scraarrelli Empire to believe your people were ready for the Greater Knowledge, and potentially a seat with the League of Systems. However, we were deceived.”

“Our intention was never to deceive you. We didn’t know of Doctor Monorocco’s plans,” Kaskahn said, his voice slowly returning. “Had we known, we would never have agreed to accept the Greater Knowledge.”

“Of course, Human Kaskahn. When you visited Planet Scraarrel, we were impressed by your genuine desire to use knowledge for the betterment of your people,” King Vakniit continued. “We found you both to be worthy of the Greater Knowledge. It was not until you left that we discovered you had been deceived by Human Monorocco. We immediately sent an ambassador to Earth but you and Human Ayalana had not yet returned from your travels. Our ambassador assessed the human race, and found the people of Earth had not yet matured to the point of the Greater Knowledge.”

“Not matured?” Ayalana asked.

“Correct,” the king said. “Unfortunately, by then the Greater Knowledge had already been used by Human Monorocco for his own gain. We were forced to initiate the extirpation protocol.”

“You used the extirpation protocol on Earth?” Kaskahn said. “While we were gone?”

“So that explains why no one followed the protocols, or even remembers our civilization at all,” Ayalana said.

General Jenkins stepped forward. “Extirpation protocol? What exactly did you do?”

“Human James Jenkins.” King Vakniit greeted the general. “Be at peace. I mean you no threat.”

“Well, forgive me if something called the extirpation protocol sounds threatening,” Jenkins huffed.

“Human James Jenkins,” the king continued, “you have a responsibility to protect the people of your nation just as we have a responsibility to protect the people of the galaxy. When a planet is exposed to the Greater Knowledge before they are ready, it can be dangerous. Our job is to eradicate the knowledge from that planet. Be assured, we do no harm to the people of the planet.”

“You wiped our memory? The whole planet’s memory? Is that it?” Jenkins asked.

“Correct, Human James Jenkins. I sense that you understand we mean no harm, yet there is still fear in you,” King Vakniit said. “There is nothing to fear. We eradicated knowledge from Planet Earth before it became a danger to your people or the galaxy. You do very similar things in your work, do you not?”

“How long ago was this extirpation?” Jenkins asked.

“Approximately 156,472 Earth years ago.”

“They erased all human knowledge and sent us back to the Stone Age?” Major Wilcox whispered to Officer Patrick. “150 thousand years ago?”

“The Paleolithic Age to be more precise,” Patrick whispered in reply. “And if I’m following, contrary to everything we think we know about history, we were an advanced civilization back then. But the extirpation protocol reduced everyone to hunter-gatherers.”

Wilcox’s shoulders dropped. He shook his head vigorously and he exhaled loudly. “And all evidence of the civilization has been long forgotten…” he trailed off.

“But you didn’t just remove what you call the Greater Knowledge, did you?” Jenkins asked, pointedly. “You removed everything. Even the knowledge we’d already accomplished on our own. The culture. The science. That was our own, legitimate progress! You had no right—”

“Progress is not strictly gained through knowledge, Human James Jenkins. The people of Earth had grown to conflate knowledge with power, and they had come to call the power progress,” King Vakniit replied. “A full reset of Earth’s knowledge was best.”

“So, Your Highness, I’m afraid to ask but what are you here to do this time?” Kaskahn asked.

“I am truly sorry Humans Kaskahn and Ayalana,” King Vakniit said, turning to them again. “But it appears human civilization once again conflates knowledge with power. And that power is once again corrupt. We cannot yet allow the Greater Knowledge to be revealed to the people of Earth. We have reached a decision.”

At the king’s word, all ten of the Scraarreli beings behind him turned and stood at attention. The orb behind them began to glow intensely and pulse rhythmically.

“Initiate the extirpation protocol.”

— to be continued —

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— continued from part ten — (or start with part one here)

“Yes, it’s exactly what I was afraid of,” Kaskahn said, looking up at the approaching ship.

Kaskahn, Ayalana, Jenkins, Wilcox and Patrick stood outside the military base and stared at the sky.

It almost didn’t look like a ship at all — definitely not the stereotypical, saucer-shaped UFO. The craft looked more like an orb, glowing, pulsing and undulating, almost liquid in its movements, like a bubble soaring through the clouds.

As the group watched, it began to take on a more aerodynamic form, as if adapting to Earth’s atmosphere mid-flight.

“It doesn’t look like your ship, that’s for sure,” Patrick said, his mouth agape. “I don’t even know what it looks like. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Even its color looked not of this world: somewhat silver, with hues of blue, purple, yellow, and gold. Not changing colors, it seemed somehow to be all those colors at once. Whatever color it was, it looked altogether majestic.

“It’s a Scraarreli ambassador ship,” Ayalana confirmed.

“Scraarreli?” General Jenkins asked, stepping forward yet unable to look away as the ship drew nearer. “Those are the people you mentioned before, right?”

“Yes,” Kaskahn said. “From the Scraarreli Empire. We learned the practice of mind control from them.”

“Empire? Like the Galactic Empire? Darth Vader’s not on that thing, is he?” Wilcox asked in a joking tone that sounded more like an attempt to cover for genuine concern.

“Jokes aside, you raise a valid question, Major,” General Jenkins said, reaching for his phone. “Are they here as friendlies? Or adversaries? Believe me, I won’t hesitate to order a preemptive strike if—”

“There is no strike you could order that would harm them,” Ayalana said. “You would only provoke them.”

Jenkins slowly dropped his phone back into his pocket.

The craft descended without a sound. No wind stirred. No impact when it landed. It was as if the craft weighed less than a feather, coming to a gentle stop just dozens of yards from them in a nearby field.

The team stood in silence as they watched the orb, still undulating rhythmically in front of them. After a moment, the undulating stopped and the orb seemed to open. No ramp. No door. It just opened like a portal from another world.

Slowly, several strange beings began to emerge.

Jenkins put his hand above his brow and squinted. There was something about them that was difficult to see, like a blur surrounding them. They clearly held a shape, but the finer details were difficult to make out.

Their bodies were round near the bottom with four short legs that carried them so gracefully it was as if they hovered several inches above the ground. Long appendages hung from their sides and seemed to flow behind them as they walked, like tapestries waving in the wind. Their long, thin necks swayed from side to side as they approached, with round heads that almost appeared to rotate.

Five of the beings lined up in a row. Another five formed a line across from them, creating a path from the orb down the middle. Then, like soldiers in unison, all ten beings turned to face each other.

“What are they doing?” Patrick leaned in and whispered to Ayalana.

“Making way for the ambassador,” Ayalana replied.

The ten beings bowed their long necks in the direction of the orb.

Kaskahn and Ayalana stepped forward.

A sound like an ethereal trumpet rang out and a being appeared from the opening of the orb, larger than the others and wearing bright, glowing attire. An aura of light, similar to the orb’s, surrounded the being.

Kaskahn and Ayalana dropped to a kneeling position.

“King Vakniit!” Kaskahn said. “What an honor to host Your Eminence on our planet. Welcome!”

King Vakniit stopped and extended his flowing arm towards the sky in what appeared to be a greeting. “Humans, Kaskahn and Ayalana,” he said in a loud, clear voice. “It is good to see you my friends. I wish I were here for leisure. However, unfortunately, we have once again detected misuse of the mind control we entrusted with you.”

— to be continued —

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— continued from part nine — (or start with part one here)

General Jenkins stood, turned the news broadcast off and tossed the remote into his chair. He paced his office in thought.

Two weeks had passed since Dr. Monorocco had been captured and the effects of the amulet’s mind control were nullified. But was that the right move?

Jenkins stopped abruptly when he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Major Wilcox entered with Kaskahn, Ayalana and Patrick.

“Sit down,” Jenkins told the group, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk. “I’ll get right to the point. I don’t know what you did, but ever since you turned off that amulet, things have gotten worse, not better.” Jenkins pointed directly at Kaskahn.

“What’s happening?” Kaskahn asked.

“What’s happening?” Jenkins scoffed. “Are you kidding? Have we been keeping you so isolated in this facility that you don’t even know what’s happening out there?”

Kaskahn and Ayalana exchanged glances.

“It looks like the end of the freakin’ world if you ask me.” Jenkins continued, speaking a bit louder now. “In just the past two weeks, most major governments have collapsed into tribal warfare. For now, a few countries like the UK and the United States still have some semblance of order through martial law. But the unrest is skyrocketing fast and it won’t be long until even the military can’t contain the madness. Food is scarce. Those who are typically law-abiding citizens have turned to pillaging in the streets. Riots are breaking out in every major city—”

“Where is the amulet now?” Kaskahn interrupted. “Has it fallen into the wrong hands?”

Jenkins stood and removed a picture from his wall, revealing a hidden safe. “It’s right here. No one has touched it since my team brought it back from Antarctica.”

“You haven’t used it, have you?” Ayalana asked, an accusatory tone in her voice.

“Definitely not,” Jenkins replied. “But I was going to ask if one of you would.”

“What?” Kaskahn said.

“You heard me,” Jenkins replied. “Can you use the amulet to put everything back the way it was?”

An eerie silence filled the room.

Kaskahn looked at Ayalana, then back at Jenkins. “But, people are finally free,” he said slowly. “Knowledge is free. You want me to undo that?”

Jenkins reached for the remote and turned the television back on. On the screen, a city burned while a reporter dodged projectiles. A box in the upper right corner of the picture showed soldiers trying to contain a riot in another city. And a scrolling message along the bottom told of dozens of other atrocities happening around the world.

“Maybe people can’t handle it,” Jenkins said, coldly.

“Are you suggesting they can’t handle the knowledge? Or the freedom?” Ayalana asked.

“You tell me,” Jenkins said flatly.

Kaskahn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Was Doctor Monorocco right?”

“We did not anticipate this,” Ayalana said, putting her hand on Kaskahn’s arm. “We thought access to knowledge would benefit society. We thought sharing all the knowledge of the galaxy would empower people.”

“They’re empowered alright,” Jenkins said as he turned the TV off. “They’re just not doing what you had hoped they’d do with the power.”

Kaskahn hung his head. Ayalana sighed.

“It’s like everyone’s trying to be the top now,” Patrick said gently.

“What can we do?” Kaskahn asked.

“Can’t you send another signal or something?” Major Wilcox asked. “Put everything back the way it was?”

“I can’t send another signal using the wayfinder,” Kaskahn said, slowly. “Like I said, it was a one-time deal. But Doctor Monorocco used the amulet to control the entire world, so there must be a way to at least—”

Kaskahn jolted at the sound of an alarm. Jenkins jumped from his seat and darted across the room to look out the door. Major Wilcox stood behind him as he put his head out.

“Status report,” Jenkins barked to an officer who was running by.

“Sir, NORAD has confirmed an unknown craft entering the upper atmosphere,” the officer said between breaths. He stopped and saluted, almost as an afterthought. “We’re scrambling the fighters, sir.”

“Unknown craft?” Jenkins turned to Kaskahn. “Another one of yours?”

Kaskahn shook his head. “Not ours. But I have a feeling I know whose it is.”

— to be continued —

Read part eleven.

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Click here to download chapter one

Since I joined Substack almost a year ago, I’ve been blabbering ad nauseam about my upcoming novel, Second Chance. Sorry about all that! But thank you for tolerating it! 🤣

I’m working hard to get the novel ready to publish later this year but, until then, I want to offer you the opportunity to read chapter one, called Darkness, now.

The first chapter lays out the bleak state of Earth’s future and introduces two of our main characters, Captain Brewer and Lieutenant Sullivan.

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Let me know what you think!

I value your feedback. If you decide to read chapter one, first, thank you! Then, feel free to come back here and leave a comment or send me a private message to let me know what you think — the good, the bad, and the ugly.

What’s Second Chance about anyway?

Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever.

Here’s a video of a brief discussion with about Second Chance. Then, read below for a description.

SECOND CHANCE

The only way to save humanity is to destroy everything and start over.

In the future, Earth lies in ruins after decades of war. Humanity is dying, and no one knows why people can’t reproduce.

The remnants of humanity evacuate to the moon, guarded by a sentient machine named Alexandria. To restore life, they launch Operation Second Chance – an experimental weapon designed to destroy their technological enemy and reseed life on Earth for humankind’s return.

Captain Brewer believes the fight is finally over, but as he waits for the world to heal, an alien attack cuts his peacetime short. In the battle, Brewer pursues an alien craft through a time portal and crashes onto pre-war Earth. There, he uncovers a hidden truth buried within one of history’s greatest coverups.

While Brewer escapes to a new, peaceful life in the past, he learns that the fate of both timelines depends on the choices he makes. Now he must decide what future he will create, whether to live the quiet life he’s always wanted or risk everything and return to his timeline to save humanity’s future.

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— continued from part eight — (or start with part one here)

“That was a clever trick,” Doctor Monorocco said through the bullet-proof glass at the maximum security prison. “That stunt you pulled with the language interpolator. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Speaking of the interpolator, let’s see if you still speak the old language,” Kaskahn said, turning off the language interpolator.

Doctor Monorocco laughed. “I do,” he said in the ancient tongue that Kaskahn and Ayalana were familiar with. “Looking for the truth are you? You want me to speak freely knowing the guards can’t understand, is that it?”

“Why did you do it?” Ayalana demanded, slamming her fist into the glass. “Why did you betray us?”

Doctor Monorocco shifted in his straight jacket and slowly leaned closer to the microphone. “Knowledge is power,” he said with a sinister smile.

“Power?” Kaskahn scoffed. “You sent us in search of knowledge. Why do you want power?”

Monorocco’s chest bounced slightly as he chuckled. “The world needed control. Order. The people needed a master. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

“We were perfectly fine without anyone controlling the world,” Ayalana said crossing her arms. “We lived in a great society. But now it’s clear your thirst for power has destroyed it.”

Doctor Monorocco broke out into full laughter. “I find your innocence amusing. You know so little of how the world really works, Ayalana.”

Ayalana raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

“You should be thanking me,” Monorocco said. “Our so called ‘great society’ you refer to was collapsing. The only reason there was any society at all for you to return to is because I took control.”

“I doubt that,” Kaskahn said.

“Do you? Just look what is happening to the people now.” Monorocco began. “I spent the past 200,000 years preventing what is happening right now.”

“What do you mean? What is happening now?” Kaskahn asked.

Doctor Monorocco laughed again. “Have you not been paying attention?” Monorocco asked. “Ever since you nullified the effects of the amulet, society is crumbling under the burdens of knowledge. It’s only been two weeks and their eminent demise is already evident.”

“The burdens of knowledge?” Ayalana asked.

“Exactly,” Monorocco said. “The only way planet Earth was ever going to be accepted into the League of Systems is with my guidance. Without it, humans would never have been capable of the mental load required for any of Earth’s greatest achievements.”

Ayalana and Kaskahn exchanged curious looks. “Your guidance?” Kaskahn said.

“You mean your mind control,” Ayalana said. “You used the powers of mind control on the entire planet for a seat with the League of Systems?”

"Why do you think I sent you on the mission in the first place?”

“To seek knowledge,” Kaskahn said.

“Ahh yes, there’s that pure-hearted ignorance that made you the perfect candidate for the mission,” Doctor Monorocco cackled. “Of course, the Scraarrel Empire would never share their secrets with someone with my ambition. But you two, Kaskahn and Ayalana, you are pure of heart and intentions. The Scraarreli people would never detect mal-intent with either of you.”

There was a pause while Kaskahn and Ayalana processed Monorocco’s words. Kaskahn’s brow tightened. Ayalana made a fist.

“But, you ended the mind control of the amulet,” Monorocco continued. “You gave the people free access to all the knowledge you collected on your journey. Without the powers of the amulet to regulate the mental load for them, the people are doing exactly what you’d expect them to do with all the knowledge of the galaxy.”

“Whatever it is they’re doing, it doesn’t give you the right to control their minds!” Ayalana said.

“These people need control,” Monorocco said with an evil snarl. “They crave it. They’re lost without it. Don’t you see, their minds’ belief systems are collapsing without my guidance. They need someone to obey. Someone to tell them what to believe. Our planet’s greatness depends on it!”

“I’ve heard enough,” Kaskahn said, waving to the guard.

Doctor Monorocco laughed. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand. After all, you were naive enough to gather all the knowledge of the galaxy for me.”

Two guards approached to escort Doctor Monorocco back to his cell. He stood, his arms still strapped in the straight jacket.

“Just know that what’s happening in the world right now is your doing. Not mine,” Monorocco said, turning back as the guards pushed him down the hall.

“What’s he talking about? What’s happening in the world?” Kaskahn asked Ayalana.

Ayalana shrugged and stood.

The two turned to leave the prison facility but were startled by a military officer standing in the door.

“Kaskahn and Ayalana,” Major Wilcox said. “General Jenkins wants to see you two.”

“Major Wilcox,” Kaskahn said. “You look concerned. What’s wrong?”

Major Wilcox cocked his head. “What?”

Kaskahn quickly turned the language interpolator back on and repeated himself.

“It’s the state of the world,” Wilcox said. “Ever since we sent the signal reversing the effects of the amulet, everything is falling apart.”

— to be continued —

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Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. You’re part of it from the start!

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— continued from part seven — (or start with part one here)

“What’s your plan?” Wilcox asked as Kaskahn piloted the ship.

“We may be able to negate the power of the amulet,” Kaskahn said, adjusting some controls on the ship’s panel. “At least long enough to get the amulet from Monorocco.”

Ayalana smiled. “I think I know what you have in mind.”

The ship raced across the planet, at speeds unheard of, from Antarctica to the ancient site of Stonehenge. Yet, for the occupants inside — General Jenkins, Major Wilcox, Officer Patrick, and of course, Kaskahn and Ayalana — it felt like they were hardly moving at all.

“Officer Patrick Stephens,” Kaskahn said, turning to the young officer. “Do you still have the ‘wow’ signal?”

“Do I still have it?” Patrick looked confused.

“Yes, do you still have it?” Kaskahn said, “a recording we can play back?”

The ship came to a stop, hovering in the sky a moment before it descended to a soft landing near Stonehenge.

“Oh, well, yeah,” Patrick replied, reaching for his phone. “I think so. I mean, it’s on the internet.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Kaskahn said, standing and motioning for everyone to follow him. “And bring the internet with you.”

The group made their way down the ramp past a group of tourists taking pictures and video of the ship’s landing.

Kaskahn and Ayalana approached one of Stonehenge’s large megaliths and, with their palms splayed, began feeling as if looking for something.

“What you call the ‘wow’ signal was intended to activate the wayfinder and broadcast our arrival protocol around the world until it found the amulet.”

“The problem is,” Ayalana added, “the wayfinder had not been properly maintained.”

“We know,” Jenkin’s said, rolling his eyes and waving his hand to move the conversation along. “You’ve mentioned that several times.”

Kaskahn stepped to the other side and knelt, still running his open hand along the giant stone.

“Only two of these stones make up the wayfinder that we built 200,000 years ago,” Kaskahn said. “The best I can figure is, the rest of the stones were added many years later by another civilization long after we left.”

Wilcox looked intrigued. “Why would they add extra stones?”

“You tell me,” Kaskahn said, continuing to search for something on the giant stone. “I wasn’t here. Is that information not recorded in your history books?”

Wilcox shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Not really.”

“If I can reactivate the wayfinder, I should be able to use the ‘wow’ signal to start the broadcast protocol and send a message to the amulet,” Kaskahn continued.

“Except this message won’t be our arrival protocol,” Ayalana said with a confident nod.

“Hold on a minute,” Jenkins said. “You said you’ve been sending signals from your ship to the amulet throughout your mission. Why can’t you just send a message to it again and skip all this wayfinder, wow signal business?”

Ayalana rolled her eyes as if that was a stupid question. “That might work if we only wanted to stop the amulet from doing more damage. But, with the wayfinder, we can broadcast a signal to undo the damage Monorocco has already done to everyone around the world.”

“Everyone?” Patrick whispered to himself. “The whole world?”

“Found it!” Kaskahn announced. Keeping his finger on the spot, he removed a cylindrical device from his pocket and held it to the giant stone.

“Ok, but why do you need Stephens to find a recording of the ‘wow’ signal?” Jenkins asked. “Why can’t you just broadcast the ‘wow’ signal again?”

Patrick quickly reached for his phone and began searching for a recording, as if the general’s words had just reminded him to look for it.

“It’s too late for that,” Ayalana said. “It’s an automated signal, only activated when we begin our return home.”

“It can never be easy, can it?” Wilcox commented, shaking his head.

A rumbling sound started quietly and began to grow louder as Kaskahn held the device to the stone.

“Since the wayfinder was out of commission when we began our return, it never received our signal.” Kaskahn said. “That means I can still use Officer Patrick Stephens’s recording to activate the wayfinder’s broadcast protocol and send a signal reversing the mind control effects of the amulet.”

“Right. Of course,” Wilcox said with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

The sound grew louder, like thunder that didn’t fade. Tourists ran for the safety of their vehicles, but Jenkins, Wilcox, and Patrick stood firm.

Wilcox yelled over the noise. “What is that you’re doing?”

Suddenly, the sound stopped.

“Activating the wayfinder,” Kaskahn said. “We’re all set.”

“Officer Patrick Stephens,” Ayalana said turning to him abruptly, “it’s ready. Play the ‘wow’ signal.”

Patrick fiddled with his phone a moment until a scratchy, high-pitched buzzing sound began to play.

“Is that as loud as it goes?” Ayalana asked.

Patrick turned the volume up all the way and held his phone out in front of him.

“Why is there so much cosmic interference?” Kaskahn said. “Your receiver must not have been properly calibrated.”

“Properly calibrated?” Jenkins said, his voice sounding annoyed. “It was 1977 when we received that signal. It’s a miracle we even heard it at all.”

“Give me that,” Ayalana said, taking the phone from Patrick. She held it close to the spot Kaskahn had just activated.

The stones of the ancient site began to vibrate, and the thunderous noise started again.

“It’s working,” Kaskahn said.

A few moments later, Wilcox’s phone buzzed. “Sir,” he said, looking at the screen. “He’s right. It is working.”

“What do you mean?” Jenkins asked, looking over Wilcox’s shoulder.

“The team,” he held his phone for Jenkins to see, “they’re checking in. They’ve captured the big head guy.”

“They’ve captured Doctor Monorocco?” Ayalana asked.

“Good,” Jenkins said. “Tell them to bring him in. The amulet too.”

— to be continued —

Read part nine.

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— continued from part six — (or start with part one here)

Kaskahn and Ayalana’s ship came to a sliding stop, its landing gears skidding in Antarctica’s snow.

“The amulet’s beacon leads here,” Kaskahn reported.

A short distance away, a bunker door protruded from the snow, just barely visible in the white landscape.

“There,” General Jenkins said pointing, wasting no time walking down the ship’s ramp and into the bitter cold.

Jenkins, Wilcox and Patrick led the way down a long flight of stairs, with Kaskahn and Ayalana following closely behind. Finally, the team came to large, round, underground room with concrete walls and dim halogen lights.

“There’s no one here,” Patrick said.

Just as the words escaped his lips, a sinister laugh echoed through the room.

“No one?” the voice said. “On the contrary, I am everyone.”

A small man in a flowing white robe stepped into view. His large, bald head wore a golden crown that matched the trim around his robe.

“Doctor Monorocco?” Ayalana blurted in a shocked outburst. “That’s impossible!”

“None other,” the man replied, clapping slowly with a disturbing smile.

“You know this man?” Jenkins asked, his hand over the holster of his sidearm. “Is this the successor you were looking for?”

Ayalana and Kaskahn froze in stunned silence.

“How I’ve missed you two, all these years,” Doctor Monorocco said. “Go ahead, Ayalana. You’ve never been at a loss for words. Tell everyone who I am.”

Doctor Monorocco stepped closer.

“You’re—” Ayalana began.

“… the one who holds the amulet,” Monorocco finished her sentence, nodding his head profusely.

“You’re—” Ayalana said again.

“… the master of knowledge itself? You’re on a roll! Yes, go on!” Monorocco said, taunting Ayalana as she tried to speak.

Patrick stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Ayalana’s shoulder. “What are you trying to say,” he said. “Who is he?”

“Doctor Monorocco was the scientist who sent us on our mission,” Ayalana said, the anger mounting in her voice. “He built our ship. He planned our mission. We trusted him.”

“And he betrayed us!” Kaskahn said, turning to Monorocco. “You were our friend!”

“Yes, and now I control the world,” Doctor Monorocco laughed again.

“But that’s impossible! How are you still alive?” Kaskahn asked.

“You were always the naive one, Kaskahn. You see, the one who holds the amulet controls knowledge itself,” Monorocco said. “Even the knowledge of immortality.”

“You sent us to discover knowledge,” Ayalana said, taking a step forward. “Just so you could use it for your own gain?”

Monorocco arched his back and uttered a strong belly laugh. “And you both fell right into my trap,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “You made it far too easy! And for that, I am truly grateful.”

Jenkins sighed. “I’ve heard enough,” he said, aiming his weapon at Monorocco. “This ends now. I want my team and I want that amulet.”

“Slow down, General Jenkins. You wouldn’t hurt an old friend now would you?” Doctor Monorocco asked, his arms extended in front of him.

“I’m not your friend,” Jenkins replied, his weapon still locked onto Monorocco. “Your history is with them, not me.” He nodded towards Kaskahn and Ayalana. “I can’t speak for them, but I won’t hesitate to hurt you. Now, where’s my team?”

In an instant, and seemingly out of nowhere, soldiers, their guns raised, circled the group. Jenkins, surrounded, looked side to side to assess the situation.

Doctor Monorocco laughed. “I’m offended that you don’t remember me, General. We go way back, you and I. Though, of course, you wouldn’t know me as Doctor Monorocco. To you, I’m simply known as “The Top.”

Major Wilcox shot a glance at Jenkins.

The anger grew within the general. He looked from side to side, surrounded by Monorocco’s soldiers.

But as Jenkins looked more closely at the soldiers, his anger grew even stronger. Their faces looked familiar. The insignias on their uniforms — American flags. Name tags displayed names he knew — Williams, McAllister, Thompson. These were not Monorocco’s soldiers. They were General Jenkins’s own special forces team aiming their weapons at him.

“You said you wanted your team,” Monorocco said with a sinister smile. “Here they are, General.”

Jenkins froze, defeated. His own team had turned against him with Monorocco’s mind control.

Kaskahn, however, didn’t freeze. He acted quickly, adjusting some of the controls on the apparatus attached to his suit. He shouted something — an unrecognizable word — then motioned for his friends as he darted towards the stairs.

Chaos ensued.

Ayalana, Jenkins, Wilcox, and Patrick all followed Kaskahn while the mind-controlled soldiers scrambled and shouted strange words at each other.

Monorocco uttered something loudly, his face clearly angry but his words nonsense. One of the soldiers blabbered something strange in return. Monorocco pointed at Kaskahn as if trying to tell the soldiers to stop him, but the words coming from his mouth were gibberish. Each soldier had a confused look, looking this way and that, while Kahkahn and his friends escaped back up the stairs and into their ship.

“What the blazes happened down there? How were we able to escape?” Jenkins asked, buckling himself in as Kaskahn fired up the engines.

“I used the linguistic interpolator to scramble their language,” Kazkahn said as the ship ascended and the others settled into their seats.

Jenkins smiled slightly, impressed. “Well done,” he said. “But now what? We may have escaped but my team’s still down there.”

“I have a plan,” Kaskahn said. “But we have to get back to the wayfinder.”

— to be continued —

Read part eight.

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, who manages Sci-Friday on Christian husband, grandfather, anti-gnostic, theonomist. I love writing Christian fiction, theology, and about politics. I post memes about Christian living. I love doing letter exchanges. Soli Deo Gloria.

Where life, the universe, and everything get my damn opinion! Subscribe to get daily video rants, posts, and podcasts on politics, art, culture, relationships, science, and more! Author of JONNIE FAZOOLIE & THE TRANSFINITE REALITY ENGINE.

“Daddy, let’s listen to your music this time,” I said as I watched my father select the Taylor Swift playlist as he did for me every morning. “Tell me about how music used to be better when you were a kid.”

“Very funny,” he said, as Opalite began to play.

My father hated Taylor Swift. I could tell. But he never let on. He always played it for me on the ride to school.

“I mean it, Dad,” I insisted. “Play some of your music and tell me about it.”

My father always got so passionate when he talked about his favorite music. His eyes lit up. His voice lifted. He seemed so alive. But I had always ignored him when he went on and on about how music used to be so much “better”.

“Seriously? What’s gotten into you?” He laughed. “My teenage daughter wants to listen to my music? You feeling ok?”

Regardless, his hands moved across the car’s stereo controls quickly, as if he didn’t want to give me a chance to change my mind.

“Ok, you asked for it,” he said, selecting the Pink Floyd playlist.

I noticed the way he settled into the seat and turned the steering wheel with one hand. It was like a long lost confidence had once again returned to his driving.

“Ahh this is a great song!” he announced, pointing to the screen. “You know, for so long I had always assumed these lyrics were about drug addiction,” he said. “I mean, that’s what it sounds like, anyway. It wasn’t until I was older that I started to hear it differently. And it took on a deeper meaning for me. Just listen to this part.”

He turned it up a bit louder.

When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse
out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look and it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown.
The dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.

His voice seemed to quiver now as he spoke. “I always thought it was the drugs that made him feel comfortably numb,” he said. “But now, as an adult, I hear it differently. It’s like when he was a child he had all these dreams of what his life could be. But he only caught a fleeting glimpse of them. Before he knew it, he got sucked into the demands of life and it forced him to give up on his dreams. Now the dream is gone and, to carry on, he just blocks it all out. Ignores it. Tries to forget he ever had those dreams. Over time, he’s allowed himself to become numb to that pain.”

I listened to the passion in his voice as he spoke. I heard his emotion. I could tell it felt real to him. He seemed to relate to it personally.

He and I remained silent for a moment as the music played on. The lyrics, and my father’s words, began to really sink in.

For the first time in my whole life I wondered if my father once had dreams of his own. I had never bothered to think of him as his own person before. He was always just Dad. Did he once have dreams? Had life forced him to give them up?

Was my dad comfortably numb?

It seemed like a question too deep for my 13-year-old mind to consider. But here I was, experiencing it somehow.

“And listen to that guitar solo!” he went on. “That’s David Gilmour. You won’t hear a guitar solo like that on any Taylor Swift song, I’ll tell you that much.”

I sat there, staring out the window as we drove, listening to my father’s music. The music I had always ignored before. It sounded more interesting now though, knowing how much it meant to him. And knowing how much he had always wanted to share it with me. I couldn’t explain it but now, somehow, it seemed like I was listening with different ears.

My dad continued to drum on the steering wheel as we pulled up to the school. We passed the line of parked school buses and turned into the circle in front of the door. He stopped and turned the music down.

“Here we are,” he said. “Thanks for listening to my music for a change. Have a good day at school.”

I paused before opening the car door. I watched my friends, their backpacks on their shoulders, gathering in front of the building as they did every morning before the bell rang.

“Will you walk me to the door?” I asked.

“Walk you to the door?” He sounded shocked. “Of your school? Now I’m really worried about you. Won’t your friends think you’re cringe or whatever the kids say these days?”

“I don’t care. You’re my dad. I love you.”

I saw my dad’s eyes misting up, like I had made his day.

“I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I’m not going to pass it up,” he said as he opened the car door and walked around to my side.

He walked me to the school’s entrance, holding my hand, with his head high like he was escorting a princess to a ball. I smiled while my friends watched me, even though I usually would have been embarrassed.

When we got to the door, he hugged me. I held on a bit longer than usual.

“Dad,” I said. “Did you have a dream that life forced you to give up?”

“Oh, you know,” he said with a smile that looked like he was reliving a fond memory. “The typical dream, I guess. I wanted to play music and tour the world with my band. I wanted to play for thousands of screaming fans every night.”

“What happened?”

“I guess you could say a fleeting glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye was enough for me.” He tapped me on the nose. “The band broke up. We went our separate ways. And that was that.”

“Why don’t you do it now? You’re never too old, right?”

He looked up for a moment as if in thought. “I guess it would be fun to get the band back together,” he said. “You know, maybe one last time.”

He looked back at me. “But honestly, that was a dream I once thought I wanted,” he said. “That was before I discovered what I really wanted. I have more important priorities now. Now, my dream is for all of your dreams to come true.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I smiled again, let go of his hand, and went to class.

But that’s when something weird happened. I felt a strange sensation come over me. My vision got blurry, like my eyes were fogging up. Was I passing out?

I was almost at my desk. Maybe I just needed to sit down.

But, just as I was about to sit, I heard a strange voice. “Time’s up.”

That’s when everything went dark. I was no longer in the classroom. I opened my eyes and found myself in a strange room. A lab maybe? Or a doctor’s office? I wasn’t sure.

My memory slowly came back to me. I was not a teenager. I was a grown woman, 43 years old.

Suddenly I remembered everything. The reality hit me like a ton of bricks and the memories of my childhood faded into the distance. I was back again in the present time: the year 2056.

I had been visiting the past.

“It’s over?” I asked. “So soon?”

A man in a lab coat greeted me. “Yes, that’s as long as it lasts. Any longer could be dangerous,” he said. “I hope it was a good experience.”

It had worked. I had been a bit skeptical, to be honest. The ad had said I could pick any day to go back to and revisit one last time. Time displacement it was called. Or something like that, anyway.

The funeral was last week, and there was so much I wanted to revisit. So much I wish I could have said to him. But I could only pick one day.

I picked a day from my teen years. It was a day I remembered he had tried to tell me about the music he loved. I had ignored him then. His music always sounded so old and boring to me. But now, as an adult, I hear it differently.

On my way home from the Time Displacement Lab, I turned the car stereo to the Pink Floyd station so I could remember that moment with my father one last time.

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— continued from part five — (or start with part one here)

“Could the amulet be used for mind control?” General Jenkins asked as he opened the door to the military complex that Patrick and the two beings had just escaped from hours earlier.

“Mind control?” Kaskahn repeated. “Well, yes, in fact. That knowledge was included in our transmissions to the amulet. King Vakniit of the Scraarrel Empire entrusted us with it.”

“King who of the what?” Major Wilcox asked with a furrowed brow.

Before Kaskahn could respond, General Jenkins ushered him, Ayalana, and Patrick into a small room with a large, two-way mirror on the wall similar to the one that had been used days earlier to interrogate the ancient beings.

“We don’t need to answer any more questions,” Ayalana said, putting her hand up to silence Kaskahn before he revealed any more. “And we’re definitely not sharing the secrets of mind control with you!” she added, turning to Jenkins.

“I don’t want to know the secrets of mind control,” Jenkins said. “But I do want to know how to stop it.”

Ayalana stood with her arms crossed. Kaskahn raised an eyebrow.

“Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot,” Jenkins said as gently as he could. “But I am trying to help now that—”

“Then why bring us back here?” Ayanala asked. “You said you would take us to our ship!”

Jenkins stood and walked to the two-way glass. With the flip of a switch that seemed to echo from the other room, bright lights illuminated the other side of the glass to reveal a large hangar. Inside was the two beings’ ship.

Kaskahn and Ayalana approached the glass for a closer look.

“Why the change of heart?” Ayalana turned and asked Jenkins. “Why help us now?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Jenkins said. “I’m done following orders from a man I’ve never seen.”

Wilcox stepped forward with a shocked look as if he had not expected to hear the general make such a remark. “Who is he?” he asked. “The one they call The Top?”

“I don’t know,” Jenkins said. “No one knows. That’s the problem. But, whoever he is, everyone bows to his wishes. No questions asked. The President. The UN. World leaders. Everyone. And I’ve had enough of it.”

Patrick, who had been quiet, hiding in the corner of the room, let out a relaxed breath. His shoulders dropped. He looked relieved at the general’s words, as if he might not be reprimanded for freeing the two beings after all.

“King Vakniit,” Kaskahn repeated, turning to Wilcox to answer his question from a few minutes earlier. “He leads one of the most powerful empires in our galaxy. The Scraarrel Empire. One of only four with veto power in the League of Systems.”

“The League of Systems?” Wilcox repeated.

“The Scraarrel have closely guarded the powers of mind control,” Ayalana added, sending Kaskahn a look of warning. “They only grant its secrets to civilizations they deem worthy. And only to those capable of protecting it’s power from misuse.”

“We earned their trust during our stay with them,” Kaskahn said. “We told them of our great and noble civilization on Earth. And of our mission to explore the galaxy in search of truth and knowledge. They used their mind control abilities to assess our trustworthiness before granting us the secrets.”

Wilcox took a deep breath and sat down slowly, steadying himself on the armrest. “Wow, that’s a lot to unpack.”

“And you sent that knowledge to the amulet?” Jenkins asked, seemingly undaunted by the information he’d just heard.

“Yes, of course,” Kaskahn said. We sent all the knowledge we discovered to the amulet. That was the whole purpose of our miss—”

“Understood.” Jenkins interrupted. “And tell me what would happen if the amulet fell into the wrong hands.” Jenkins asked.

Kaskahn and Ayalana fell silent, looking to one another as if waiting for the other to respond.

“The protocols were in place to ensure that wouldn’t happen,” Ayalana said quietly.

Jenkins let out a grunt — partially a laugh and partially a concerned sigh. “All signs point to: it did happen,” he said.

“How do you know?” Kaskahn asked.

“A member of my team came back from Antarctica with spaghetti for brains claiming the rest of his team is still there under mind control.”

Kazkahn and Ayalana traded concerned looks again.

“The Scraarreli people warned us about the dangers of misusing mind control,” Kazkahn said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They warned of what evil could happen if it fell into the wrong hands.”

Ayalana rolled her eyes. “Our civilization, the one that was on Earth when we left, never would have misused that knowledge. But this civilization, the one we came back to clearly isn’t—”

“Let us take our ship,” Kaskahn said, stepping forward. “We can retrieve the amulet and use it’s power to reverse whatever damage has occurred.”

Jenkins took a set of keys from his pocket and began to unlock the door to the hangar. “I’ll let you take your ship,” he said. “But we’re going with you.”

He looked at Patrick and Wilcox. “All of us.”

— to be continued —

Read part seven.

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Looking for psychological military science fiction? Read about the adventure of veteran Brendan Murphy as he tries to keep peace between Earth and a mysterious alien race known as the Sabia. Read the Fallen series today!

Weekly near-future horror drops here. Biotech disasters, optimized souls, stories that follow you home. Some are free. Go paid for all of them.

I’ve always said I wanted to retire from IT and become a writer. I keep getting older...and I haven’t started writing yet, so something’s gotta give. So this is a starting point.

I am just writing stuff. Mostly science fiction and horror, but a tonne more. I need more space!

A child of God, wife, and mother who writes poetry, essays, and reflections that wrestle and rejoice, seeking beauty, truth, and the nearness of God.

Poet, storyteller, and wood carver. Writes Poetry, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.

I’m a writer and poet. I am a novelist whose attempting to create my worlds and hope you’ll join me for the ride.

Technologist & sci-fi writer. Exploring humanity and AI in Dark Matter (www.darkmatterstory.com), an unsettling science fiction story.

BA in History, park ranger. Reader and writer of history, short fiction, poetry, and essays.

Author, Objectivist. https://accargillauthor.wordpress.com

IRD (Intergalactic Recovery Division) field researcher documenting Earth’s stranger habits. Weekly dispatches, cultural hazards, and incidents HQ told me not to publish.

— continued from part four — (or start with part one here)

“By the way, do you two have names?” a young officer asked, sneaking down the hall and stuffing his keys back into his pocket. The two ancient beings followed closely behind.

“Why are you helping us?” the female asked, following the officer down the dark hallway.

The young officer stopped and peered around a corner. All clear, he waved for them to follow. “The wow signal,” he replied with a sense of awe in his voice. “I studied the wow signal and I always wondered where it came from. Turns out it was you.”

The officer stopped in the middle of the dark hallway and turned to the ancient beings just under the dim, red glow of an exit sign. “And, if you have information, like you claim,” he whispered, “I think people have a right to know about it.”

The three crept around another corner, the patter of their footsteps echoing quietly through the empty building. It was third shift at the facility. The young officer was in charge of security for the night, so he knew how to slip past the guards and cameras.

“Why do you call our message the wow signal?” the male asked quietly, tip-toeing behind the officer.

“Well,” the officer began, still walking, “it was an amazing discovery when we received it. We had never heard anything like it. The astronomer who detected it wrote ‘wow’ on the printout. It’s been called the wow signal ever since.”

“I guess that explains why we got no response,” the male said.

The female placed her hand on the officer’s shoulder and he turned to look at her.

“Ayalana,” she said.

“What?” The officer stared at her blankly.

“You asked for our names. That’s my name,” she said. “Ayalana.”

“And I’m Kazkahn,” the male said. “Thank you freeing us. You appreciate the value of knowledge. You have earned our trust.”

“You’re welcome,” the officer said. “I’m probably going to lose my job, and be in a ton of trouble, but you’re welcome.” The officer extended his right hand. “I’m Officer Patrick Stephens.”

Ayalana and Kazkahn looked blankly at Patrick’s hand, then at each other.

“It’s a greeting,” Patrick said. “You’re supposed to put your hand in mine. It means …” he shook his head and retracted his hand. “Never mind. We need to hurry.”

Patrick led Kazkahn and Ayalana to a thick, metal door and turned the handle. They felt the chill of the late-night air rush into the hallway.

“This way,” Patrick said.

Patrick led them outside under a surveillance camera and along the side of the building until they came to a barbed-wire fence.

“Officer Patrick Stephens, where are you taking us?” Kazkahn asked.

Patrick fiddled with the keys in his pocket then unlocked the gate. He motioned for them to follow.

“I’m taking you to your ship, Kazkahn,” Patrick said. “Am I saying your name right? Kazkahn?”

“I don’t know,” Kazkahn replied. “The linguistic interpolator ensures I hear it properly, not matter how badly you pronounce it.”

“Oh,” Patrick said, looking a little embarrassed. “That’s probably a good thing.”

With Ayalana and Kazkahn close behind, Patrick ran to the parking lot, found his car and opened the back door for the two beings to get in.

“You’re putting yourself at great risk for us, Officer Patrick Stephens,” Ayalana said. “Thank you.”

“Well, you said information is for everyone,” Patrick said. “If the amulet holds information about our place in the galaxy, like you said, I think it’s worth the risk for people to hear it.”

Patrick put the car in gear and drove off. “And, just ‘Patrick’ is fine.”

The three drove in silence for a while until they approached Stonehenge. But as the ancient site came into view, something was noticeably missing.

“Where’s our ship?” Ayalana asked, leaning forward as Patrick brought the car to a stop.

“I don’t know,” Patrick said, frustrated. “I wasn’t informed that it was moving. It should still be—”

“Who is that?” Kazkahn interrupted, as two shadowy figures emerged from the darkness.

“We thought we might find you here,” General Jenkins said. He kept his hands in his pockets while standing ominously next to the car.

Patrick sunk in his seat. “I’m definitely losing my job,” he muttered to himself as he rolled the window down.

General Jenkins and Major Wilcox shined flashlights in the back windows.

“Where’s our ship?” Ayalana demanded, blocking the light with her hand.

“I’ll take you to your ship,” Jenkins said. “As long as you agree to answer some questions.”

— to be continued —

Read part six.

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Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. You’re part of it from the start!

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Looking for psychological military science fiction? Read about the adventure of veteran Brendan Murphy as he tries to keep peace between Earth and a mysterious alien race known as the Sabia. Read the Fallen series today!

Weekly near-future horror drops here. Biotech disasters, optimized souls, stories that follow you home. Some are free. Go paid for all of them.

I've always said I wanted to retire from IT and become a writer. I keep getting older...and I haven't started writing yet, so something's gotta give. So this is a starting point.

I am just writing stuff. Mostly science fiction and horror, but a tonne more. I need more space!

A child of God, wife, and mother who writes poetry, essays, and reflections that wrestle and rejoice, seeking beauty, truth, and the nearness of God.

Poet, storyteller, and wood carver. Writes Poetry, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.

I'm a writer and poet. I am a novelist whose attempting to create my worlds and hope you'll join me for the ride.

Technologist & sci-fi writer. Exploring humanity and AI in Dark Matter (www.darkmatterstory.com), an unsettling science fiction story.

BA in History, park ranger. Reader and writer of history, short fiction, poetry, and essays.

Author, Objectivist. https://accargillauthor.wordpress.com

IRD (Intergalactic Recovery Division) field researcher documenting Earth’s stranger habits. Weekly dispatches, cultural hazards, and incidents HQ told me not to publish.

— continued from part three — (or start with part one here)

“Major,” General Jenkins said, towering over Major Wilcox who he had ordered to find the amulet. “I want to speak with the team you sent to Antarctica.”

It had been a few days since Jenkins got the call explaining the orders from “the top.” The voice on the phone had advised him to move on, forget it ever happened. And that’s what the general public, even the media, had done.

It seemed they had stopped caring about the spacecraft that had landed at Stonehenge, and the two beings claiming to be, not aliens, but humans from the distant past. Everyone had stopped asking questions — more interested now in a celebrity divorce trial the news outlets were buzzing about.

But Jenkins couldn’t move on. He needed answers. That consumed him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Wilcox shook his head and pointed down one of the long hallways of the military complex. A lone, metal door stood closed at the end of the hall. “Sir, all that’s left of the team is in there.”

Jenkins narrowed his eyes and turned to the door. His footsteps echoed as he approached. Wilcox followed closely behind.

Inside, Jenkins found an empty bed and a man curled up in the corner of the room wearing a hospital gown. His bare feet inched closer to the wall at the sound of the opening door.

“What is this?” Jenkins turned to Wilcox, confused.

“This is Sgt. Andrew Patterson, sir. He’s the only one who returned.”

“I thought you said the team found the amulet, and the mission was a success.”

“The team found the amulet, sir, but I wouldn’t say the mission was a success.”

Jenkins closed the door, leaving the man in the hospital gown and stepping out into the hallway for a private word with Wilcox.

“Why wasn’t any of this in your report, Major?” Jenkins asked through a clenched jaw.

Wilcox straightened his posture. “Orders from the top, sir. I was told not to include it in my report, sir.”

“The top?” Jenkins confirmed. “The top told you to withhold information?” he asked, as his face reddened.

“Yes, sir.”

“At ease, Major.” General Jenkins began to pace up and down the hall. “What is the top hiding?” he asked rhetorically, stroking his chin.

Jenkins opened the door again and nodded at Wilcox. “Let see what we can find out that the top doesn’t want us to know.”

Jenkins and Wilcox entered the room and approached the man in the corner.

The man’s head leaned against the wall, wedged into the corner. His hair dripped with what Jenkins guessed was sweat.

“Sergeant Patterson. I’m General James Jenkins. This is Major Timothy Wilcox. What can you tell us about the mission in Antarctica?”

Patterson turned to face the sound of the general’s voice. His eyes distant. His face pale. Several days worth of facial hair covered his face. After a moment, a sound escaped his mouth like a whisper on top of a groan.

Jenkins could make out one word. “Ambushed? You were ambushed?” Jenkins asked. “Where is the rest of the team?”

Patterson turned back to Jenkins. His mouth opened but it was a moment or so before any sound emerged. “Mind … control …” he croaked slowly.

“Mind control?” Jenkins asked, then turned to see Wilcox’s shocked face.

“All of them?” Wilcox asked the man. “The whole team is under mind control?”

A ghostly whisper came from the sergeant. “Or dead,” he said, then turned his head away as if to say he was finished talking.

“What’s going on here?” Jenkins took a deep breath and began to pace again while he thought. He remembered the report had mentioned finding the successor. An old hermit, they had called him. Though, who knew if anything in the report could be trusted? “Major, take me to the two beings. The ancient ones. I want to talk to them.”

Major Wilcox turned on his heels and led General Jenkins out the door and down a corridor. After a moment, they arrived at another door, flanked by two guards, where the two ancient beings were held.

The guards saluted Jenkins and he returned the gesture. Then, Jenkins opened the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jenkins shouted at Major Wilcox.

“I don’t know,” the Major said, flushed and stammering. “They — they were right here, I swear.”

“Find them!”

— to be continued —

Read part five.

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When I started writing First Contact, I actually thought it wouldn’t be very popular. I didn’t even put it through my usual process of writing, editing, overthinking, editing again, crippling self doubt, reluctance to post, and then finally posting (with my eyes closed).

I just wrote it. Read it again. Said, “sure, why not?” And then posted it.

Now, First Contact is my most popular post

Although, I admit, I braced myself when I posted it. I thought people would hate it. I thought they would call it “trite” or “overdone” or “unoriginal”.

Instead, I heard the opposite. Many of you said it was a refreshing new take on an old trope.

I mean, just look at these screen grabs below!

You’ll see I redacted the names. I did this for two reasons:

1. Redacted files are all the rage right now.

2. I didn’t want any of you to be implicated if the rest of this story turns out to be terrible! 🤣

It was even featured in a FicStack Curation

FicStack

FicStack Curation #14

Well, we made it through January - arguably the longest month in human history - and February has arrived to remind us that at least some months have the decency to be shorter…

Read more

5 months ago · 50 likes · 9 comments · Gary Mucklow, Tina Crossgrove, Gh'd Company, Kelly Xan, Tonja K. Johnson, and Qibra

You told me you wanted even more

I had always planned for two parts. But the night before I posted part two, I had an idea for part three.

Then, the requests for me to expand the story even further started rolling in. Here are some of those screen grabs.

Part 4 is coming soon!

So, the moral of the story is, I heard you!

Thanks to all of you, First Contact part four is ready to post later this week. And I even have a start to part five.

Honestly, I don’t know yet how many parts there will be in total. I hope you enjoy!

But first, before the next chapter posts, I want to thank you all for your support and encouragement. This story would not exist without each of you cheering me on!

In the meantime, if you feel inclined, share First Contact with someone who might be interested.

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— continued from part two — (or start with part one here)

“Amulet?” Jenkins asked. “What amulet?”

The two beings stood and stepped towards the door.

“The successor carries an amulet, passed down from one successor to the next,” the male explained. “Throughout the mission, we’ve been sending regular updates to it. Like a failsafe. If anything were to happen to us, the knowledge of our discoveries wouldn’t be lost.”

The beings fastened their suits and picked up their flight helmets.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Jenkins said, standing between the beings and the door. “We’re not finished here.”

“We must find the successor,” the female said. “Now that he’s activated the amulet, we just need to follow its signal.”

The male fidgeted with the device until a map of Earth appeared on its screen. “It’s here.” A red dot marked the spot.

“Antarctica?” Jenkins looked bewildered.

The two beings stepped closer to the door, but six armed guards entered the room.

“I can’t let you leave,” Jenkins said.

“We need to get back to our ship!” the female argued. “We need to get to the successor!”

“You’re staying here until I can be sure you’re not a global threat.” General Jenkins pointed to the mirrored glass and barked an order to an unseen soldier. “Major, send a team to these coordinates. See if there’s anything there.”

“It would be faster if we took our ship,” the male said.

“It would be safer if I sent my team,” Jenkins said as he walked out of the room, securing the door behind him.

“You’ll be pleased to know we found the amulet,” Jenkins said as he walked into the room. “I just got word from my team.”

It had been a few days since Jenkins sent the team, and there had been no contact with the two beings since then, other than to bring food and water.

“And the successor?” the female asked, a bitter tone in her voice.

“I guess you could call him that,” Jenkins said. “If your successor is an old hermit, living in a hidden facility, deep in the snow of Antarctica. We’re still investigating who he is and how he got there.”

“Something’s not right,” the male said. “The successor shouldn’t be hidden. He should be sharing the findings with the world.”

“Has the successor been compromised?” the female asked.

“Bring us the amulet,” the male said. “If the successor has been compromised, we can share the findings.”

“Easy now.” Jenkins held his hands up. “No one is sharing anything until we study it and determine what’s fit to share.”

“What’s fit to share?” the male said. “What does that mean?”

“It means, if your amulet really does contain knowledge of the galaxy, we’ll need to determine whether or not the world is ready to hear it.”

“Why would the world not be ready to hear knowledge?” the female asked. “Everything the amulet carries is factual. It holds information we’ve learned about other civilizations in the galaxy and can inform the world about our place in the galactic neighborhood.”

“That’s the problem,” Jenkins said. “Facts, in the wrong hands, can be dangerous. We need to be careful who has access to certain knowledge.”

“But that’s a direct violation of The Code,” the male asked, his voice stern. “Information is for everyone. That was the whole purpose of our mission.”

“But he who has knowledge has power,” Jenkins said. “And if the amulet really contains what you claim—”

The general’s phone rang. His face dropped. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

“I have a feeling our civilization wasn’t forgotten,” the female whispered to the male. “I suspect the truth was hidden from the public.”

“Perhaps the successor wasn’t compromised at all,” the male said. “What if he was,” he hesitated, “corrupted?”

Jenkins retreated into a dark corner of the room to take the phone call.

“General,” a mysterious voice on the other end said.

“Sir, you’ll be pleased to know my team checked in. They found—.”

“Your team found nothing. Officially, there is no amulet.”

“Sir, my orders were to—”

“This order comes from the top.”

“The President?”

“No. The top.”

Jenkins took a deep breath. “Understood. What of the two beings?”

Jenkins turned to see 12 men dressed in black bursting through the door. Two of them threw black bags over the beings’ heads, cuffed them and dragged them out of the room.

Jenkins slowly put the phone back to his ear.

“There are no beings either,” the voice said.

“But everyone saw the craft, sir. It was on all the news networks,” Jenkins argued. “How will we hide that from the public?”

“Yesterday’s news, General. The public has moved on. I suggest you do too.”

— to be continued —

Read part four.

Preview Second Chance for free

Want to read the first chapter of my upcoming novel, Second Chance, for FREE?

Click here to get the first chapter free

Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. You’re part of it from the start!

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— continued from part one —

It had been about an hour since the aliens emerged from their ship, but reporters — and the world — were still talking about how human they looked.

Shapeshifters, some had assumed. The aliens must have taken human form before they landed. Others speculated it was a secret military operation gone wrong and the public wasn’t supposed to have seen it.

Amidst the media frenzy and crowds of onlookers, the two beings were escorted to a secure facility for interrogation. Thousands waited outside for updates. Only authorized personnel were allowed inside.

“Tell me again how you speak English.” General Jenkins, chairman of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff had taken over the interrogations after being frustrated with the slow pace of the international delegates.

“I already explained,” the male being said, a tone of frustration in his voice. “We’re not speaking English. We’re speaking our language. The linguistic interpolator is allowing you to hear us in your own language.” He tapped a device attached to his suit and squinted at the general. “You don’t use these anymore?”

“Interesting,” Jenkins said, dismissively. “And, now, tell me where you’re from again.”

The female rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over all of this.”

“Pretend I’m stupid,” Jenkins replied.

“We’re from Earth. Just like you,” the male being said, slowly and clearly. “And we’re human, just like you.”

“Except, clearly, we’re not as stupid as you,” the female said, leaning back her chair. “What have you done to our planet? Our people?”

“Your planet?” Jenkins’s face reddened. “Is that a threat?” He stood and pounded his fists into the table.

“We told you,” the male said. “This is our home too. We have been on a mission to explore the galaxy for the past 15 years. But due to time dilation, we knew when we returned more than two hundred thousand years would have passed on Earth.”

“Two hundred thousand years?!" Jenkins exclaimed, emphasizing each syllable as he spoke. “You expect me to believe that humans embarked on a space exploration mission in the stone age? How dumb do you think I am?”

“Dumb enough that we don’t have to pretend you’re stupid,” the female quipped.

“When we left, there were strict protocols that should have been passed down over the ages so you would be ready for our return,” the male said. “When did you stop passing down knowledge to future generations?”

“Protocols? Was it written on a stone tablet or something?” Jenkins huffed.

“We’re lucky we even made it back at all given the condition of the wayfinder,” the female interjected. “It looks completely neglected. Have you people no respect for what has come before you?”

“The wayfinder?” Jenkins asked suspiciously. “You’re talking about Stonehenge?”

“Correct,” the male said. “It was constructed to survive the ages. But it would have required some general upkeep and maintenance. That knowledge should have been handed down too.”

“When was Stonehenge even built?” Jenkins asked. “It wasn’t two hundred thousand years ago I can tell you—”

“And you still haven’t told us where the successor is!” the female added. “Were none of the protocols passed down?”

“We know nothing of any protocols,” General Jenkins insisted, sitting down again.

“It was all lost then,” the male whispered, rubbing his eyes.

“We knew that was a possibility.” The female looked at the male and gently put her hand on his arm. “Given how much time was going to pass on Earth, we knew it was possible all memory of our mission could be lost.”

“I know,” the male said, hanging his head. “But I didn’t think our entire civilization would be forgotten too. I had hoped—”

“Wait! That still doesn’t explain why you weren’t prepared for our return,” the female said, shaking a finger at General Jenkins. “We sent a message to indicate we were on our way. Even without the protocols you still should have received the message.”

“Message?” Jenkins asked. “What message?”

“That’s right,” the male said, revealing a device from his pocket. “You should have received it …” He paused while he entered some figures into his device. “Almost 50 Earth years ago.”

“You sent a message?” Jenkins said, clicking his pen. “50 years ago?”

“Correct,” the male said. “To let you know to prepare for our return. The successor would have known what to do. That is, if the protocols had been passed down.”

“We didn’t receive any message,” Jenkins said.

“Wait, sir.” A young science officer who had been observing the interrogation through the two-way glass stepped into the room. “Sir, we did receive a message.”

“What?” Jenkins looked unhappy. Embarrassed even. “What message?”

The young officer checked his tablet. “In 1977, at the Ohio State University, the Big Ear radio telescope picked up—”

“You mean the ‘wow’ signal?” Jenkins asked.

“Right, the ‘wow’ signal,” the young officer said.

“That was you two?” Jenkins asked, pointing to the two beings. “How were we supposed to know that was you?”

“The knowledge was supposed to have been passed down,” the male said. “But I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

The female sighed and rolled her eyes. “Since we’re here, should we share what we’ve learned about the galaxy?” she asked. “Or will that just be forgotten too?”

Jenkins’s face reddened and his jaw clenched in response to the insult. But before he could reply, an alert sounded from the male being’s suit.

“Hold on. I thought you said there was no successor,” the male said, taking another device from his pocket.

“I don’t know how else to tell you, there is no successor!” Jenkins yelled.

“Well, someone just activated the successor’s amulet.”

— to be continued —

Read part three.

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This wasn’t one of those blurry UFO pictures where you can almost see the string it’s hanging from. This was live-streaming, clear as day, on all the major news outlets. Everyone, all over the world, could look out their window and see the spacecraft as it orbited Earth and entered the atmosphere.

Governments of several nations — the US, the EU, China, Russia, Australia, Japan, even North Korea — put out statements denying it was one of theirs.

This was it. Finally, real, undeniable proof of life outside our own planet.

No one knew the alien craft’s intent. Every country with a military scrambled their fighters. The US Air Force followed it as it slowly drew closer to the surface. It clearly wasn’t crashing. It was landing.

Many panicked and hunkered into their homes, glued to their laptops, televisions, or radios for play-by-play updates from their news outlet of choice. Many brave and curious citizens followed the craft for a closer look as it neared its destination.

But where was it’s destination?

The bright metallic disk flew dangerously close to the rooftops of downtown London, reflecting the sun as the population guarded their eyes for a look. Hundreds, thousands even, took to their cars, following the craft as it slowly drifted westward over the English countryside.

The Royal Air Force joined the United States’ F-18s as the craft slowed, drawing even closer to the surface.

Finally it landed.

At Stonehenge.

Thousands gathered at the ancient site, including military, reporters, and citizens, to see the alien ship. Police created a perimeter and made a path for world diplomats to enter. Seven dignitaries representing major countries of the world stepped forward. Everyone waited, watching for any sign of activity from the craft.

Hours passed while the craft sat in silence on its three landing legs. Finally, a hiss emitted from the ship and a ramp slowly descended as if something was going to emerge.

The crowd hushed. Reporters paused mid sentence. Diplomats braced themselves. Soldiers aimed their weapons. Cameras zoomed in to capture humanity’s first glimpse of alien life.

The crowd gasped as a figure appeared. Then another behind it. The beings walked on two legs. Each had two arms that swung as they strode in a very human-like gate. Helmets covered their heads. As they descended the ramp, it became clear their yellow color was not their skin, but suits. Like astronauts would wear.

Looking around, the two beings stepped off the ramp and onto the ground. One lifted its hand — not quite a wave but clearly a greeting of some kind. It made a sound like a voice speaking a foreign language. Earth’s diplomats looked at each other, as if hoping one of them could understand. No one responded.

After a moment, one of the beings began to remove its helmet. Humans all over the world, not only the crowd but those watching on television, held their breath in anticipation. Our species was about to lay eyes on the face of an extra-terrestrial for the first time in history.

No one quite knew what to expect. But, what everyone saw was not what anyone would have guessed.

No big heads. No black eyes. No gray skin. No reptilian scales.

What was revealed under their helmets astonished everyone. Wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. As the two aliens stared at the crowd it became even clearer. One was male. One was female.

They looked as human as the people in the crowd.

One of the beings adjusted an instrument on it’s suit and spoke again. This time, everyone in the crowd understood clearly.

“What happened to the wayfinder?” it said in perfect English. “And where is the successor?”

— to be continued —

Read part two here.

Preview Second Chance for free

Want to read the first chapter of my upcoming novel, Second Chance, for FREE?

Click here to get the first chapter free

Second Chance is for fans of dystopian sci-fi, time travel, time loop paradoxes, unexpected twists, aliens, sentient machines, and more, all written with no smut or AI ever. Stay tuned. The full novel is coming soon. You’re part of it from the start!

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