Alien
Copyright© 2025 by Harry Carton
Chapter 4
April 4, 11:56. Alister 5 reporting.
The group reluctantly turned their attention back to the topic of the G12 summit, the atmosphere charged with the anticipation of what Elliot might discover. They discussed the potential impact of revealing Commander C’Droit’s existence and the approaching intergalactic ship to the world leaders, considering the implications for global unity and the risks of panic.
Frau Helberg spoke up, her German accent crisp in the morning air. “Introducing this to the G12 could be ... problematic. They are not known for their swift or unified decision-making. With the current geopolitical tensions ... the Chinese especially will balk at the idea of a unified world government.”
“If we don’t,” interjected Santiago, “how can we ensure a coordinated response to this ... this ... intergalactic greeting?”
Harkness nodded. “It’s a gamble either way. If we go public, we risk chaos and fear. If we don’t, we might miss our only opportunity to prepare.”
Suzi leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed. “What if they don’t believe us? What if they think we’re just a bunch of crackpots with an impressive holographic projection?”
Washington chuckled. “They’re going to believe when they see him.” He nodded towards C’Droit, who was watching Elliot intently.
“How do we ensure they listen and understand?” Harkness asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“We’ll need proof,” Suzi said, turning to C’Droit. “Something tangible that they can’t dismiss as a trick or a hoax.”
The alien nodded. “I understand the importance of credibility. The ship’s technology is far beyond yours. I can provide you with artifacts that will demonstrate our authenticity.” He opened his backpack and removed several small, metallic objects that glinted in the light. “And of course, my presence cannot be dismissed as a figment of anyone’s imagination. We will need to keep Nightwing out of sight. These are standard issue devices from the Confederation. They use a form of quantum entanglement to transmit data across vast distances. Here is a small, hand-held device that will make something float at the push of a button. We could point it at the dining table. We use it to move heavy objects.”
The group leaned in, examining the communication devices with a mix of awe and skepticism. Raoul Santiago took one and turned it over in his hands. “Incredible,” he murmured. “But will this be enough for the G12? Perhaps you are correct about Nightwing’s appearance would be too much publicity.”
C’Droit’s deep voice was filled with a hint of uncertainty. “It has been for other civilizations. But Earth is ... unique.”
“Indeed,” said C’Droit, “ ... unique.” He repeated himself as he paused, considering. “Your planet has a rich tapestry of cultures, languages, and histories that can either unite or divide you in the face of a common purpose.”
Suzi frowned, “We’ve seen that play out before. The United Nations, the Organization for the Safeguarding of Space ... even those with the best intentions struggle to get everyone on the same page.”
Dave nodded, his eyes still on Elliot. “We can’t rely on them to get it right without a solid plan. We need need to come up with a starting point.”
The room grew quiet again as Elliot’s hands began to move rapidly in front of the second panel, tracing invisible lines in the air. His eyes darted back and forth, and his lips moved as if he was whispering to himself. Suddenly, he slammed his hand down on the table, startling everyone.
“Got it!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement and triumph. The group gathered around him, eager to understand the breakthrough.
Elliot took a deep breath and pointed at a specific sequence of symbols. “This ... this is the key. It’s a pattern, a sequence that repeats. It’s like a code within the code. It has eight branches. I can’t...”
“It’s almost like a dictionary. Here...” Elliot point to some characters on the wall. “Can you display the characters in something else ... like cuneiform ... or hieroglyphics?” He waited for the characters to change.
I didn’t have cuneiform in my dictionary. “Selvin, can you translate?” A few seconds passed. I watched as Selvin overlaid the panel that I displayed with something different.
Selvin said, “I can only display the Sumerian cuneiform, and that with inexactitude. The records I can access don’t go back any further.” Then the same panel was displayed again and again, in a different set of symbols. “Here are some other ancient symbolic languages. Note that I cannot even guess with the translations, since no translations into modern English are available. I dislike guessing. Perhaps something will help Elliot.”
“Yes, the Sumerian has some meaning,” Elliot said after a pause.
Washington mumbled something to himself. I could pick up some of his words. “He can’t know Sumerian cuneiforms ... Must be the Britannica I kept in his room ... Jesus, what doesn’t he know?”
Elliot’s eyes remained fixed on the symbols. “It’s a greeting ... or a warning,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “They’re looking for something ... or someone ... Maybe that’s: ‘Reply in 2 or 8.’” Elliot said.
Elliot frowned in concentration, his hand hovering over the symbols. “No, not yet,” he said, his eyes still tracing the patterns. “I have to get the other parts. But it’s important. It feels ... significant.”
The group exchanged worried glances. “We need to know more,” said Suzi, her voice tight. “We can’t just walk into the G12 with ‘trust us, we’ve got alien gadgets.’ We need to understand what this message is really about.”
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