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The Day The Other Humans Came: Chapter 4.

Updated on September 9, 2014

Chapter 4.

... Several reports have flooded in globally, detailing all similar instances of blacker than black tears in the sky, tears proceeding to deposit people. Some individuals once appeared, vanished amid the local populace, accompanied by some curious individuals and were led off. Governments worldwide are trying to pinpoint the location of such individuals. Other people departing these 'rips in reality,' (as they are swiftly being dubbed on social media) were apprehended by security forces and, this is where concern has grown, any aggression shown towards these bizarre humans have been shrugged off when the humans coming from the blackness retaliated. What we witnessed was nothing short of devastation levied by one human against fairly large and often armed police and military forces. Eye witness accounts tell of melted guns, soldiers and police freezing in spasms and dropping to the floor, fired bullets hitting only air. People worldwide are frightened... we know these people look like us, but it is becoming quickly apparent that all of these people are not terrorists. All reports and accounts indicate these people are not from earth, I chafe at using the term, but at this moment we have no better, and reliance on popular movies and stories would have us believe they would arrive looking as different to us as night looks to day. But make no mistake, populations and governments alike, readily admit this an alien invasion we are dealing with. However, once faced with aggression, the individuals repelled the assault and then fled, currently there is no more news of sustained or initiated hostility from the 'other humans' as they are swiftly being dubbed ...

The telly news was doing it's utmost again to fan flames, simmering little candles of fear, eager to turn it into an inferno... why do they do that? I wondered. "Control," my companion interjected. A gout of lava like anger spiked in my stomach, "can I have a thought to myself please?" I snapped, he raised a large, admonishing hand, "apologies, I forgot your kind has no knowledge of concealing mind waves." The magma cooled and expanded into it's usual slag of apathy as I sank back into the cool leather cushions of the sofa, "you've got a point though," I replied. "Control is the umbrella or parasol those in control employ, to shade the greatness of your species. Fear, anger and the plethora of emotions is the weather they want you to huddle from, today that happens to be my colleagues and I." His philosophising was bound in his concentration upon the intricacy of the helix he'd fashioned from the rubbish that earlier was languishing in my kitchen. As tall as the 'alien,' it rotated anti-clockwise and pulsed every several seconds. "What form of government do you lot have then?" I asked him. "We don't, there is only The Mainframe," he replied, "far too complicated to go into now."

I barely heard his request for me to stand, accomplishing our common trait of evolutionary prowess - the luxury of bipedal movement - all on my own and it propelled me to his home made spiral. The motion of it was hypnotising, the sheer waltz of it, how it lacerated reality, proved intoxicating. "Notice any anomaly in it?" My 'alien' inquired, I shook my head mutely. "There's extra strands to this DNA helix and it throbs in accord with Cosmic Microwave Background radiation... an exact replica of your own."

My stupefied reverie was a shattered by a hammer on glass of one of those alarms, shock screeching in my ears, "what does that mean?" I muttered, sand replacing spit, not liking the fact that all signs were pointing to me being upended from my rut. "A number of things. Essentially, it means that your conception and birth coincided with your body absorbing a freakishly high number of cosmic ray particles, meaning that you have been accidentally attuned to the very frequency of the universe. So your alignment with existence gives you far more ability and insight... you are at one with the fabric of reality itself."

My whole muscles went to sand. "Me?" I wailed. "I'm a tosser! I can barely piss properly down my toilet! How the fuck can I be so important?" "Random, coincidental chaos, it's what led me to you," his mechanised casualness exacerbated my disquiet, replacing my skull with African killer bees! "Well, I don't wanna be special... " the 'alien' interrupted by grabbing my hand and snapping it round the strand of rubbish...

... Existence unfolded as an ocean of time, ever creasing in on itself, reams and tundra of potential. Immense pressure ghosted in on tendrils, knotting and tightening, force mounting in insatiably ravenous spirals, tugging, twisting... creating. Infinity itched in the fastness of the vacuum, dancing over skin I had no idea I possessed amid this nothingness. Bubbles of what may be ghosted to my awareness, dashing into the blank... a firmament of the future. Nothing had never been so beautiful, so devastating, a spectrum of joy, misery and all the splats in between on an ever swelling blank canvas... a universe ...

... I wrenched away, covered in sweat, muscles electrically weakened, but full of vitality, the energy of perpetual, cyclical nature trapped within the shell of life, washed on the shores of death and calcified in eternal inflation. Wonderful, I thought. I turned to the 'alien,' his wide, dark eyes a searchlight for meaning, boring into the dark seas of my ignorance, brow furrowed. "I know what you want," I gasped, reaching out my free palm, "come with me," he clasped my hand, the universal gesture of brotherhood... we streaked away in unity.

© Brad James, 2014.


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