Chapter 49: Message

“WHAT!?!”

There was panic in the room.

“Could it be the aliens?”

“It’d have to be!”

“What do we do? We’re not prepared to fight against them.”

“We can’t assume it’s even their spaceship! It could be a missile, for all we know.”

What would the aliens throw at them this time? Everyone was wondering this.

“Calm down, everyone,” the President demanded. He turned to the messenger. “How long until it reaches here?”

“By the current velocity and acceleration, we only have a few minutes left.”

“A few minutes!?” one Authority exclaimed. “What can we do in just a few minutes?!?”

“Shouldn’t we tell the People?”

“What’s the point?”

“Hahaha. So this is how we’ll go. Together, still yelling amongst ourselves.”

“Please quiet down, everyone,” the President said.

The clamor continued.

Drake looked at the President. He had his eyes closed and was quietly seated.

“Silence!!!”

The room quietened.

“Now’s not the time to panic.” Drake stated.

“As Drake says,” the President spoke again, “we must think rationally. If the aliens really wanted us dead, they would have killed us by now: they have advanced technology. But the virus they sent didn’t even mutate us. We must keep in mind that we still don’t know their motives.”

Drake realized the President was right; he wondered what the aliens’ objective was.

“Even if you believe they suddenly wanted us dead, the contrary may always be true. If this is meant to kill us, we’d all die anyway with no means to survive, however, I think this is worth taking a look at.”

The members regained their senses and agreed to go outside and observe. The group of twenty members went downstairs and onto the street, accompanied by guards who’d become pretty much useless in that situation.

In the sky, they could already see a burning object enlarge as it descended. Nearby people began to notice it. They pointed at the sky and murmured amongst themselves. People poured out of buildings, and soon, a crowd had enshrouded the streets; they were too curious to panic and flee. Drake had flashbacks to the Night of the Apocalypse. People don’t change, do they? Even after all of that…

As the small UFO approached Rencia, its descent slowed, eliciting awe and silence from the crowd. Everyone observed as it softly landed in the middle of the street where the Authorities were. Its engine powered off.

Before Drake and the others was a space pod about the size of a tall hut. It resembled an egg in more ways than one, from its elongated, round shape to its minimalistic, matte white design. On one area was what seemed to be some sort of logo and some foreign text, but apart from that and its 21st-century futuristic vibe, there was little to distinguish its origin.

This was a spaceship from humanity’s enemy.

Immediately, people surrounded it and started taking pictures.

How stupid can people get?

“It landed. Right in front of our government building!” an Authority was dumbfounded.

“It’s like they knew we’re here. Maybe they intentionally chose the time of the Smummr, too…”

“What do we do? It might hold another virus. Should we destroy it before it’s released?”

The pod suddenly hissed and a door opened outward. Everyone instinctively jumped back in fear.

“Could it be the aliens? Are they going to come out?”

They waited, and nothing happened.

“P-perhaps someone should go inside and inspect it.”

Everyone looked at one another expectantly.

Drake sighed. “Fine. I’ll go.” Shame on them as responsible adults and leaders.

As Drake approached the pod, a light shone on him from inside. A computerized voice spoke in some alien language. He thought he heard his name being mentioned. The computer then switched to English:

“This is a message from PVC:

“Please send two representatives in the pod.”

The light went out.

There was silence in the crowd.

“Two representatives? To their mother-ship?” An Authority spoke. “For what? To hold peace talks?”

“There’s no way they’d do that, is there? They could easily destroy us if they wanted.”

“You’re missing the point, Tim. As President Atkinson said, they would have killed us long ago if they’d wanted to.”

Drake returned to the group. He looked at his father. Bill appeared angry. Drake wondered why.

“Exactly,” President Atkinson said. “That being said, if they want representatives of Rencia… I’ll have to go.” It was only natural, as the President.

“Hold your horses, Mr. President,” Zachary Straggler spoke. “They asked for a representative. We should send the representative of the people,” he pointed, “Drake.”

“What?! What are you saying, Zachary?! He’s just a kid!”

“A kid with maturity and responsibility. He did try to sacrifice himself for the city, and he did provide many solutions to problems this Smummr, things that us adults weren’t able to accomplish for months.

“Besides, if any of the Authorities were to go, the aliens might try to torture us for information. We already only have very little left to bargain with.”

“From the Blucteryhem, we can see they have advanced technology. There are easier ways to extract information if that were the case,” Atkinson argued.

“But you're assuming the aliens that caused the Apocalypse are the same as the ones that sent this pod. They might be different, and thus, have different intent or technology.

“We can't take such risks. Rencia wouldn't function without us Authorities. If the ones that go up there were to die, then it best not be one of us.”

“You’re fine sending a kid to his death?”

“Only if he’s fine with taking the risk for the sake of Rencia; something I’m sure he’d be willing to do again. Right, Drake?”

“…uh, yeah. I don’t really mind.”

“Great. Now, how about we take a vote.”

A vote was taken. A majority of the members of the Smummr wanted Drake to go.

Drake couldn’t believe the Authorities were cowardly and stupid enough to send a kid up to space to negotiate with aliens, not that he thought was incompetent enough to start a war. It appeared Straggler was good at persuading people.

“Fine,” President Atkinson relented. “But as for the second representative, we'll need an expert linguist and negotiator to go with Drake to help with communication.”

“From the announcement from the pod, it would seem these aliens know our language. A linguist is unnecessary. More important is having someone Drake can rely on at his side to provide some sense of comfort and security in an unfamiliar environment. Like his father: Bill.”

Who the heck are you to decide such things? Drake thought. It almost felt like Straggler was purposely choosing bad candidates to sabotage the negotiations.

The President gave a serious look.

“Zachary, I hope you realize the seriousness of this situation. If it goes wrong, all of us, including you, may die.”

“Of course, I do. The lives are the people are at the core of every decision we make. And I hope you realize the importance of the situation for the stability of our government. If it goes wrong, people will start to lose trust in you.” Zachary smiled smugly. “By the way, when was the last time we had an election in this city?”

Woah, this is going into direct threats! Were all the meetings like this? Drake hadn’t paid much attention.

“Guys, guys. It's fine. My father and I will go,” Drake assured.

Do I not have a say in this? Bill thought.

President Atkinson had a worried look.

“Don’t worry; I know how important this is. We'll be careful.” Drake went to his father, who still looked angry. “Come on, Dad.”

“No, not now. We’ll go after you’re healed, Drake.”

“What??”

“They think they can do whatever they want?! That they can destroy the world and order us around?! We won't listen to them! We'll take our own time. You’re injured. They’ll wait until you feel better.” Bill sounded angry as well.

Ah, so Dad’s angry at the aliens for all the bad stuff they did. I guess that’s understandable… Drake was personally more curious than angry and wondered how his father wasn’t. To meet the aliens that caused all of this… it sounded like a fantasy—an opportunity one shouldn’t let go of.

“H-hold on, Bill,” the Authorities protested. “You mean you want to keep them waiting for days or even weeks?!”

“Yes.” It was to send a message.

“You can’t do that. What if they retrieve the pod or get mad? We’ll never get this opportunity again!”

“Do any of you want to take our place and go up there yourselves?”

“Urk.”

The Authorities shook their heads.

“Then, it’s settled. We’re waiting.”