The sky over southern England was uncharacteristically blanketed with low-hanging cumulonimbus clouds. “Uncharacteristically” in that they were typically cumulus, and accompanied by a thick dampness in the air that’s more frequently associated with total submersion in a peat bog. The drab evening grayness of January vanished, however, as the overcast sky blazed with a cerulean fire, which framed a massive triangle of nothingness hovering just below the cloud deck. Through this nothingness Frank, the Daves, and the mass of humanity surrounding them could see the moon peeping through a small fissure in the clouds.
Razorback swallowed in a dry throat as his brain battled with his optic nerves to interpret what was unfolding above him.
It was happening, really happening.
For a few moments after leaving the Visitor’s Center, he pushed his way down a crowded path which, in non-Alien contact times, led tourists to ancient Stonehenge, but was now choked with Daves, government dignitaries, security agents, and select news agencies and podcasters from around the world. But as the heavens roiled with unnatural lights, Razorback’s body rebelled and refused to step off the path and toward the monoliths.
Razorback realized over the past few days he had experienced a wide gamut of emotions: fear, anger, a lot more fear, then anger again. Okay, it was a narrow gamut. But the fear and anger were personal. His fear was of being murdered by the Black Sams, and his anger was at his unfaithful wife, then the Federal agents who sucker-punched and drugged him. As his own indiscretions were unknown to his wife, in his mind, they were inadmissible as evidence condemning his anger at her. Which made him all the more mad. Her actions weren’t even revenge.
But what was this he felt now? Awe? Kind of. Terror? That’s the right direction, but no. Horror?
That’s it. That’s the one. For the first time in his life, Razorback experienced a primitive fear so deep that it felt his bones wanted to piss. A response so primal his brain overrode autonomous functions like trembling just in case said trembles would cause enough noise to make the massive Apocalypse Triangle in the sky notice him. His body was as immobile as the ancient rocks barely thirty feet before him.
To his left, another Dave (Razorback never learned his last name, who was some sort of “mystical astronomer,” but he’d known only him as “that D&D Toesucker”) stood with his khakis now as much a puddle as a “lack of fashion” statement. “So. It really does make sense to have to roll a savings throw against fear when you see a dragon.
* * *
Frank, on the other hand, was standing more or less in the center of Stonehenge’s prehistoric circle. Like Razorback and nearly all of the thousands of humans gazing skyward, he too was transfixed by the breathtaking emergence of the alien craft. But years of practiced mental discipline jolted him from the paralysis.
“Everyone, step back! Clear the inner circle!”
Slowly, without taking their eyes from the spectacle overhead, the Daves in the center of Stonehenge stepped back. Frank winced as one, Dr. David Poppins from Harvard University, tripped and fell backwards, only to be caught by Razorback’s left hand, with as much give as falling on a meat hook. The shadowy shape of Dave Jr spat and almost sank his claws into Poppins’ calf. Poppins muttered “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Dave Jr.” Razorback replied.
The empty, light-wreathed triangle began to scintillate. Barely visible waves ran throughout the nothingness, and suddenly instead of emptiness there was a great silver-skinned spaceship which perfectly filled the invisible isosceles triangle. Deep blue circular lights were embedded in the three points of the shape, and smaller blue lights ran up and down the edges.
Frank felt giddy, in a manic, panicky sort of way. This ship looked as though it were violating the laws of physics, but he knew that was only because humanity’s understanding of physical laws was probably infantile compared to this advanced race of beings. The ship’s blue lights had to be how it hovered effortlessly, with no apparent downward thrust or powerful engine noise.
The alien vessel sank closer to the ground, looming larger over the site. A soundless energy emanated from it, and Frank felt a slight change in pressure sweep over him, over Stonehenge, and then across the awe-struck crowds. It took a moment for him to realize that his terror had evaporated. He looked around, and the Daves no longer appeared to be on the verge of hysterics but instead were simply marveling at the hovering vessel.
“They don’t want us to be afraid!” said Frank. He motioned to one of the DLC agents standing nearby and was handed a microphone. He signaled the agent again, who pressed a button on his iPad. Large speakers set up around the site hummed to life. Frank slowly raised the microphone to his mouth. True, he wasn’t afraid now, but he was nervous. Extremely so. He knew his next words could go down in history as the first ever spoken to an alien race, and he really didn’t want to screw up the moment.
Frank cleared his throat, licked his lips, and stepped forward to the exact center of Stonehenge. Then he yelped because two things happened at the exact same time. First, he tripped over Dave Jr, who had materialized in front of him the way all cats do when they feel like it. Secondly, a blast of sound trumpeted from the alien vessel. It was loud, almost but not quite deafening.
Frank rolled over onto his back and watched the vessel sink a little lower still. As it did so, the sounds shifted to lower notes, then higher. It was all so very loud, but enchanting as well.
It’s music, realized Frank. He sat up, casting a brief, angry glance at Dave Jr, who was busy cleaning himself. But the sounds from the ship called his attention back to the sky. The song was both familiar and completely, well, alien. The notes within the music were possibly wind, possibly percussion, maybe electronic. It was masterful and, somehow, slightly tedious.
Frank stood, and the music faded away. He tried licking his lips again, but his mouth was dry.
A bright blue light cut across the foremost point of the triangle. It expanded into a square, opening a portal into the bottom of the spacecraft. A translucent, square-shaped beam sprang out and illuminated the ground right in front of Frank.
Two black silhouettes appeared within the glowing beam. They were descending! This was it! Contact was imminent! Frank’s stomach and heart leapt within him as adrenaline flooded his system. The dark figures, tall and thin, drew closer. And what was that? More music! It was again loud, and…very different. A much faster tempo than the previous music. And far more familiar.
Frank frowned. His thoughts didn’t seem to be working right. Or his ears. He looked over toward the Daves. Expressions of befuddlement spread across them like ripples across a pond. Something was off. A figure stepped up beside him.
“This music. It’s familiar,” said Frank. “Isn’t it?”
“It’s I’m Too Sexy, by Right Said Fred,” said Razorback. “The aliens are playing I’m Too Sexy. Why are they playing I'm Too Sexy?”
Frank looked at Razorback, hoping to see some sign that he was joking. He certainly wasn’t. Razorback was staring at the spaceship and the approaching alien envoy. The figures in the square energy beam were more distinct now. They were close enough that he could see features on their faces. This was it, this was the moment.
The music faded as the aliens stepped out of the light and onto the ground. A faint refrain of “I’m too sexy for my cat…too sexy for my cat…” tapered off into the winter night, and the aliens stood before Frank, before the Daves, and before Earth.
* * *
“Humanity, we bring you greetings from across the cosmos,” said one of the beings in a soft, pleasant voice. He was tall, easily seven foot, and lean. His head was bulbous, with large black avocado sized (and shaped) eyes. His skin was pale and taut, his mouth small in comparison to the size of his head. “I am Kh’rall, Regalian Expedition Vice-Leader. I and my fellow Vice-Leader, Ehl’vash, have matters of great importance to speak to you about concerning your planet. Which is very…nice.”
The one who spoke wore a tight-fitting blue uniform, calling to mind both a military general and an early-20th century bus driver at the same time. The other wore a white uniform, similarly form fitting but adorned with glittering medals of some sort.
“Gratings Comestibles. Where is Sovereign Dave?” asked Kh’rall. “We are anxious to meet our friend once again by setting him on fire.”
Gasps percolated amongst the Daves. Frank, unsure how to respond, just opened and closed his mouth. The one called Ehl’vash suddenly stepped forward.
“My esteemed co-leader meant Greetings Emissaries, and that we wish to rekindle our friendship with your Sovereign Dave,” he said, rather hurriedly.
Frank blinked, sure he had just witnessed the one called Kh’rall elbow Ehl’vash. He cleared his throat once more. Just as he started to speak, he thought he heard a low yet growling sort of sound somewhere in the distance.
“It is with immense joy and humility that we welcome you to our planet,” said Frank, as the sound grew louder and became extremely familiar to anyone who lived near Washington D.C. Frank hurried his next words “You have come to us in peace, and we welcome you in peace.”
It was at that moment the sound of military aircraft screamed across the sky, to the east of Stonehenge. Frank winced as four F-35 Lightning American fighters rocketed from the north and disappeared to the south. Of course, it made sense that the military would be monitoring such an event. The Contact Message did include the words “annihilation of your planet.” after all. But the timing was simply awful.
Ehl’vash glanced at the aircraft, and wrinkled his ears at the sound. “Are those…peaceful craft? They are quite acoustic.”
Frank looked over at the eastern section of the site, which was where the government dignitaries were sitting. Because there was no assurance that Stonehenge was going to be the correct contact location (and because, well, in case of lasers and chest-bursting horrors), actual world leaders were not in attendance. And at the moment, their duly appointed dignitaries were busy trying to contact their bosses.
“They are,” said Frank carefully, “capable of peace.”
Kh’rall and Ehl’vash looked at one another. Frank thought he heard a faint humming sound coming from them.
“Where is Sovereign Dave?” said Kh’rall at last. “We have potentially wonderful news, but we must speak with him.”
The F-35s made another pass, closer this time. The Daves shifted uneasily, and the crowds outside the fences were murmuring.
“I am sorry, but we’re not entirely sure who this “Sovereign Dave” is,” said Frank. “But we brought with us some of the greatest of our citizens with that name, hoping that…”
“Kh’rall, the Celestial Navigation Wheel is still incomplete!” said Ehl’vash.
The F-35s were approaching again, and the sounds of voices were growing louder from the onlooking masses. Above the quiet but growing chatter, Frank thought he heard a voice yelling. “Caaaaarllllll!”
The two aliens stepped out from their shimmering beam and approached one of the ancient monoliths. This one had a large, perhaps 8-foot section seemingly cut out of it, and looked rather like a space where a large door could have stood. Kh’rall and Ehl’vash looked at one another, and that distinct humming could be heard again.
“Where is Sovereign Dave?” asked Kh’rall, this time a bit more urgently. He peered at the Daves standing just outside of the center of the site. “I know that humans age rather quickly, but most of the beings in front of us could only be him if he had melted and then bloated.”
“Ellllllllvviiiiissss!” called a voice from beyond the fence. “Caaaaarrrlllllll.”
“Yes, um, of course.” Frank was beginning to feel panic gnaw at his brain. There really wasn’t a Plan B if the aliens wouldn’t talk with their Daves. The sound of the military fighters in the distance added to his sense of growing dread. “The thing is, you see, we don’t know of anyone called “Sovereign Dave.” A little more information about who this person is would help us locate him and bring him here.”
Ehl’vash placed his hands on his hips, his long, skinny arms bending in sharp angles. There was a momentary hum, which appeared to annoy Kh’rall. “You mean to say you do not know of the Earth Sovereign Dave? We met him here not thirty solar obits ago, in this very place.”
Frank looked around for help. All of the Daves were quietly retreating into the shadows. There was nobody. Well, almost nobody. Razorback was still standing quietly beside him, but that was pretty much the same as nobody. Then to his horror, the auto mechanic/mob boss target spoke.
“You the guys who own that jacked-up clock that keeps messing with my head?” he asked.
Frank nearly fainted. Humanity was less than five minutes into its first conversation with extraterrestrials, and a man who called himself Razorback was asking them about clocks.
“Human,” said Ehl’vash. “What did you say? Clock?”
In the distance, a slightly louder yell: “CAAAARRRRRLLLLLL!”
“Yeah, that weird clock that goes “CLONK” at odd times, like when I might die,” said Razorback. “Or when crazy things happen. Sal’s kinda miffed, you should know.”
“You mean the Timepiece!” The two aliens looked at one another, the notable hum rising between them.
“DAMMIT ELVIS!” called a voice. “It’s me!”
All eyes turned to the south. Against the fence line there was still a mass of humanity watching the historic events unfold. But pressed up against the fence was a man, by the looks of him in his mid-50s. Above him was a cardboard sign which read “THERE IS BOOZE UNDER THE STONES.”
The avocado eyes of the aliens lit up. “Sovereign Dave!” said Kh’rall. “Now we can begin our dissection!”
Frank nearly turned and fled.
“You mean ‘discussion,” said Ehl’vash, and Frank stopped his flight. Kh’rall sighed, then pointed at the man with the sign.
“We have much to discuss.” His eyes half-closed for a moment, then opened wide again. “Wonderful! Sovereign Dave, you’ve acquired an admirable amount of meat around your waist, and your face sags more. Perhaps a result of ruling a planet. Let us reconvene on our vessel.”
Lights from the ship burst forth. The Daves, like a herd of buffalo being introduced to fireworks, spooked and bolted. Frank and Razorback turned to flee as well, but with a quick sense of weightlessness and bright flash of light, the world vanished around them. For a brief moment, there was silence, except for the faintest refrain:
“Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk yeah…I do my little turn on the catwalk…”