Alien
Copyright© 2025 by Harry Carton
Chapter 3
April 4. Alister 5 reporting.
The house was buzzing with activity by the time 08:00 rolled around. Suzi had whipped up a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, and country sausage for everyone, despite her initial skepticism about cooking for a shape-shifting alien. She quickly realized that since the Commander couldn’t breath our air that she wouldn’t be able to ingest our food. Being the proverbial good host though, she would make the offer, just in case. As they sat around the table, discussing the events of the past few hours, the distant rumble of a plane grew louder, signaling Dave Washington’s arrival.
The STOL plane touched down precisely where I had predicted, Washington skillfully navigating the mountainous terrain. The group rushed outside to greet the newcomer, as the door slid open to reveal a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and piercing gaze. He wore a black t-shirt that read “I Saw It” in bold, glowing letters, and his handshake was firm and decisive. “Sorry I’m a little late. There was a storm over Denver,” he said. Elliot exited the STOL behind him. Elliot was a short man, a few inches over five feet tall, and had wire-frame glasses. His hair was cut short and he walked with a slight limp, favoring his left leg.
Dave glanced at the patch of melted snow near the driveway, and he stopped and stared as the sun glinted off Nightwing in a kaleidoscope of colors. “It IS real. I didn’t think I’d ever see one like that.” He clapped his arm around Elliot’s shoulder. “There it is, man. A real spaceship.” Elliot looked at the craft, and just nodded. Dave turned to Harkness. “You didn’t tell me that you ... I mean. Holy jumpin’ catfish...”
Suddenly a hatch opened in the side of the ship, about ten feet off the ground. A being stepped out – right into the air above the driveway – and slowly drifted to the ground. “I hope you rested well,” C’Droit said. He’d changed quite a bit since last night. Now he appeared as a large bipedal person with four arms, about seven and a half feet tall. The skin on his head was a deep forest green. Gone was the teenaged girl that looked like an influencer on the Inter Web. He still wore a brass-colored chain suit with a clear globe over his head, and he spoke in a deep baritone that came from the circle of jewels that rode the right side of his chest. He had a backpack on his shoulders.
“I came early, as our sensors indicated you obviously are awake. There are new members of your group; greetings to you. This is my natural shape. I hope that this form will meet with the suggestions you made last night, about impressing your political leaders,” he said.
The group looked at each other, astonished by the transformation. Suzi stepped forward and offered her hand. “Welcome again, Commander. We are all here to help in any way we can. I realize that we didn’t introduce ourselves last night. This is Steven Harkness of the Jet Propulsion Lab in California; Freida Helberg of the CERN Institute in Switzerland; Raoul Santiago from São Paulo, Brazil; and...” she paused, and looked questioningly at Washington.
Dave picked up the cue: “And I’m David Washington, from ISI, in Western Texas. This young man is Elliot Thornberry, also from ISI. Elliot doesn’t talk much.”
The creature walked away from his ship, took Suzi’s hand and squeezed gently. It felt like a human hand, but cooler and of course, gloved. It was strange that she could feel the warmth of his hand through the glove – she just wrote it off as ‘alien technology.’ “Thank you for your hospitality, Dr. Craynet. I am Commander C’Droit of the Confederation. This is my ship, Nightwing. We are ready to begin our discussion on how we might communicate with this approaching ship from outside our galaxy. The ‘we’ in this case includes Selvin, which is the name he has chosen. He is the intelligence that is Nightwing.”
“Yes, well, let’s all go inside. I made a typical breakfast, but I have no idea what your ... um race, would, or even could, eat,” Suzi said gesturing to the door to the house.
“I have already taken nourishment before leaving Nightwing. Your food will probably not consort well with my metabolic needs. I am of the Tholarian people. But I will wait while you take your nourishment,” C’Droit said.
The group waited while C’Droit took a few steps toward the house. Suzi hurried to open the door for him, as he ducked his helmeted head and entered. “Perhaps we’d be more comfortable in the main area, like last night.” There was some confusion as the humans gathered some of the eggs and sausages and brought them to the living area.
C’Droit stood silently with his back to the windows with Nightwing shimmering beyond, as the group reformed around the large, waist-high circular table. Suzi took the opportunity to re-establish what the Commander’s mission was, and to acquaint David Washington and Elliot Thornberry with what the group had said in its discussion the previous night.
The breakfast was simple but hearty, the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and country sausage filling the room. Despite the unusual circumstances, the humans felt a comforting familiarity with the morning ritual. However, the tension was palpable as they all knew the gravity of the situation.
The Commander spoke as the humans ate. “Last night, Selvin downloaded much of the data we received from the visiting ship. It has been studied by our scientists for many years, yet we have not deciphered its meaning. In the brief time you’ve had access to it, have you come to any conclusions?”
Santiago looked up from his plate, his expression thoughtful. “We have not had a breakthrough, but we have noted that the data seems to follow a pattern similar to certain types of cosmic background radiation. It could be a form of quantum entanglement, or something entirely new to us. But without knowing the sender’s intent, it’s difficult to say for sure what the message is.”
As they began to discuss the mysterious stream of messages, I displayed them on the blank walls on the sides of the room opposite the windows. The whole group turned to look once again at the messages; their eyes scanned across the seemingly meaningless garble of symbols. Elliot started waving his hands and fingers as he looked at the first panel; apparently only C’Droit and I noticed. The text scrolled off, but Elliot said the first words he’d uttered since the plane landed. “No! NO!” he shouted. “Go back. Go back.”