Chapter 16

Edinburgh, England.

"This is BBC News correspondent Lawrence Henderson reporting with today's top stories." Said a man in his early thirties. He straightened out the papers sitting in front of him and turned towards camera two, slightly to his right.

"Meteorologists around the world are puzzled by the sudden change in our moon. Astronomers noticed the change last night when the moon was supposed to be full. But it was instead dark gunmetal gray. Those with telescopes had called into the station with wild stories about metallic structure covering the entire surface of the moon. We now go to reporter Jane Spencer, who is reporting live with Professor of Astronomy for Edinburgh College, Jack Sinclair. Jane?" Lawrence said.

"Thank you Lawrence. I'm here at Edinburgh College with Doctor Sinclair. Doctor, what can you tells us about this situation with the moon?" asked the reporter.

They were standing inside the Edinburgh observatory, located in the English countryside, in front of a large telescope, while interns ran here and there. One was sitting in a chair staring through the scope of the telescope. Another was standing by taking notes from various readings.

"Yes, I've been studying the phenomenon for the last day, day and a half, since a colleague from the Stellar Mapping Institute or the SMI as it is usually called contacted me. He called around three thirty in the morning saying there was something on the moon. At first I didn't believe him until he told me to go into work early and look through the telescope at the college. What I saw was simply amazing. I hooked up a recording device to the telescope so I could take video and still picture of what I was observing. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. There was metallic structures on the moon that wasn't there a few days ago. I called a sister site in Savannah, Georgia to confirm my finding. They to couldn't believe what they wee seeing. They intern called an observatory in Phoenix, Arizona. They all saw the same thing. We had a conference call around seven this morning and tried to figure out exactly what this structure is and what its purpose is. So far we haven't been able to speculate what it is."

"Doctor, are you saying we been invaded by an Alien race?" asked the reporter. Doctor Sinclair smiled slightly at that question and shook his head bemusedly.

"As of now I have no idea as to whether or not that may be true. What I do know is that no one on this planet built whatever that is up there." Said the professor.

"Professor!!! You got to come see this!" exclaimed the young intern sitting in the chair. Both the reporter and the professor ran over to the student and waited for him to explain what was going on. The intern kept gesturing with his hands, but was unable to describe what exactly he was seeing.

"It's okay Bill, we'll put up on the big screen." Doctor Sinclair said.

He walked over to a computer station and typed in a few commands then directed the recording device to start recording and switch the feed over to the TV so they could watch at the same time.

"Jim, could you be a good lad and turn on the Tele?" asked the Doctor.

"Right." Responded the intern.

"Jane, what's happening?" said a voice in the reporter earpiece.

"It appears there is a development in the story." Jane said into the camera.

"Bobby focus in on the Tele." Ordered the voice, directing the camera operator.

The TV flickered to life. One of the students grabbed the remote and switched it over to video feed. For a few moments the screen was snowy then became clear. Everyone was silent, watching, looking for what the excited student had seen. A distant image of the moon was shown on the screen, its surface honeycombed with artificial canyons. Sinclair asked the student to enhance the image so they could get a closer look. It took little than five seconds to enhance the image; the moon now appeared to be closer and more detailed. Now they could see large installations of what appeared to be cannons and yet they couldn't fathom how massive they were considering there was nothing to measure them against. These cannons littered the vast majority of the surface structure. Everyone was so engrossed in the view that when something moved into the picture they were visibly startled. Whatever it was slowly moved into view but the image was blurry.

"Bill, focus out a little bit. We can't make out anything like this." Sinclair said.

The student zoomed out a bit and refocused the image. They could see the image clearly now and it was an impressive sight. It was, for lack of a better word, a ship. A heavy damaged ship. Everyone in the room was shocked into silence, as was everyone else watching the news broadcast. The ship seemed to be marred by huge blast burns and looked as if huge portions of the hull were missing. About then Sinclair notice something on the hull of the craft.

"Bill, zoom in on the hull, a hundred and fifty percent magnification, upper right quadrant." Sinclair said his voice shaky with excitement.

Bill did his best for the Professor and zoom in on the indicated area. Once the image was focused every gasped at what they saw. They saw large robots going here and there, patching up small holes in the hull of the ship. They were shocked even more when they saw what appeared to be a being walking towards one to the robots. Whatever it was looked to be wearing a suit of some kind, but no one could guess at what the suit was made up. A few in the room would have given up their right arm to have one like; other noticed that it looked similar to the suit in the 'Halo' video game. Though, it did seem to be a different color.

"Bloody hell, aliens!!" exclaimed one of the students.

"Shut up, Richard. Dumbarse." Said a very snooty redhead.

"Enough of that." Said Professor Sinclair.

"Un-bloody-believable." The reporter stated. Her earpiece had been buzzing for more than three minutes but she could not hear what was being said. She was in a state of shock.

"Well, I believe that answers your question, Miss Spencer." Everyone in the room slowly nodded in agreement.

On the screen, something that looked like a flying discus came towards the figure in the suit and stop right in front of it. The alien looked at the strange device and it shimmered for a moment until an image appeared to floating on top of the disc. It was hard to tell, but it was a schematic of the ship and it showed all of the damage that needed to be repaired. The being then retrieved what looked like a handheld PDA with a stylus, which it began to scribble something onto it. After a few minutes the being shook its head and walked off towards a destination on the other side of the ship.

"Well, I think that's all that we're going to see for now. Now would someone be so kind as to make me a cup of tea or a large shot brandy, whichever you find first." Said Sinclair.

"Yes, well this is Jane Spencer, reporting live from Edinburgh College, back to you Lawrence." The reporter said.

Washington, D.C. USA

It was ten in the morning the day after the BBC news broadcast. The president, though scatterbrained at times, was very upset for obvious reasons. He had to address the country this morning, reassuring them that everything was fine and there is nothing to worry about. After the announcement a few riots broke out in a few cities; such as Seattle, Miami, Dallas, and Cleveland. Order was restored shortly, once the police from each city were out in force to subdue the rioters. Now the president had bigger fish to fry.

"Gentlemen, what in the hell is going on? How is it I'm the last to know what appears to be enemy propaganda being broadcasted to half the world?" The very angry president asked.

Five generals, two admirals, and three representatives from the CIA, the NSA, and the Homeland Security sat starring at the president, like he just gave birth to a small Hippo in the oval office. You just don't go straight out and talk about it, no matter how hard you try to avoid the uncomfortable topic.

"Sir, we don't believe they could fake this, in fact we have verified reports from across the entire country. From various civilian and military observatories alike." Said the one from Homeland Security.

"Lies, all lies! God created us in his own image, no one else. Whatever this broadcast was it is a blatant lie to deceive us from their true goal." Said a red-faced president as he slammed his fist on the desk.

A few of the men in the room jumped at the sound of a meaty fist hitting the oak desk. They all knew he'd been on a religious kick for the last eighteen months, since his heart attack. Ever since than its been Jesus this, Jesus that, and he's been carrying around a bible everywhere he goes.

"God, in his infinite wisdom, shall show us the way, like a shepherd tending his flock." Recited the president. "You may go now."

Once they left the oval office, the group of men let out a sigh of relief. They all knew he was a few apples short of an apple pie. What was worse was that the man was a complete fucking idiot which didn't help matters at all. Behind the closed door of the oval office the president picked up his private line and dialed a very long complex phone number. After two rings the other end was picked up and a very husky voice answered.

"Hello, who may I ask is calling?" Said the husky voice.

"Yes, it's me. I need to talk with his holiness." The president said.

"One moment." Replied the voice.

"Cross." Said a southern accented baritone voice.

"My liege something bothersome was come to my attention and frankly I'm uncertain on what to do about it. It involves the BBC news broadcast the other day. Is it a sign of the end of days? A divine test for those who are worthy to join him in all his glory?" Asked the president.

"You sniveling little pissant I'll tell you when and where god plans to tests his chosen people. I'll get back to you in a day or two on my opinion but if you hold another public address like you did this morning you'll end up in a fresh slab of concrete somewhere in Chicago. I didn't spend all that money to get you into office just so you could fuck up my plans. For the time being, keep your mouth shut and pay attention to those around you. You need to present a calm, strong face to everyone. Or else everything I've worked for would be for not." Cross said.

"Yes, sir. Don't worry about it. You can... hello? Sir?" The dial tone was his only answer.

Starkweather Veteran's Hospital

Richmond, Virginia.

Shawn Marshall lay in bed, starring at the pinpricks in the ceiling. There wasn't much else he could do but look straight up. Left or right weren't much better either. Private first-class Shawn Marshall, the latest graduate of the Marine Corps, had been walking his third guard patrol when it happened. He was struck in the back of the neck, a glancing blow at best, by sniper activity in downtown Baghdad. His squad rushed him to an Aid station, where they stabilized him for transport to a M.A.S.H. unit. From there they operated on the private, trying to repair the damage caused by the bullet. Unfortunately the bullet severed his spinal cord from the base of the neck down. There was no hope for him to regain use of his body; he'd be a damn cripple for the rest of his life. Pissing into a catheter, shitting into a colostomy bag, only to breathe with help from a respirator, and having someone else take care of him. Feeling utterly helpless all the while. He even tried to commit suicide by biting his tongue, hoping he would either bleed out or drown in his own blood. That was two weeks ago, suicide watch ended a few days ago and now he was depressed again. When his family came to see him he asked the nurse to tell them to go away and not come back. Shawn didn't want his father or mother to see him like this, less than what he was. So here he was, all alone in his hospital room, the respirator his only company. Or so he thought. He looked to his right and saw some person just sitting there with his fingers steeple.

He looked kinda plain with glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing jeans, a strange looking watch, a screen T-shirt saying: 'Your Brain Is Like the Death Star... It's Not Yet Completely Operational.' and wearing a pair of black with red trim Van sneakers. He just sat there watching Shawn, not saying a word.