He—she—kind of resembled an alien caricature with an upside-down teardrop-shaped face and huge eyes, only he wasn’t the typical green or silver, but dark brown. He or she had a slender, stick-straight body with long, willowy limbs, particularly its tentacle-like arms.
“Greetings! I amUrlyn Buquof the governing board of the Federation of Alien Beings, a galacticcoalition committed to the welfare, aid, and defense of allied worlds. We have been monitoring the situation on Earth.”
That’s why the name sounded familiar!Now she remembered! Shortly before everything went to hell, the president had announced she’d received a two-word message, “Progg coming” from a “Federation of Alien Beings.” Nobody had understood what it meant, or if it was real or a hoax.
Buqu continued, “Federation policy with respect to non-member planets is one of noninterference and neutrality. We do not take sides, nor do we impose our will or values on other civilizations, especially those that are still developing and evolving.” The alien had huge eyes, two tiny nostrils, but no mouth, and she realized Buqu’s voice came from inside her head.It’s telepathic!
But how could that be? This was a recorded message, wasn’t it? She broke out in goose bumps. If these aliens could project a prerecorded voice into their heads, they were dealing with a very advanced life-form—possibly more advanced than the Progg.Were humans going to leap from the frying pan into the fire?
“Moreover, federation resources are finite. There are fifty member planets in our alliance, but there are thousands more with intelligent life at various stages of development. We could not possibly address all the needs.
“We have been following your plight and the devastation inflicted by Progg-Res. A bio scan of your planet counted 2,000,015 humans, dispersed across your continents.”
That many?
At first, two million sounded like a lot, until she did the math in her head. What had Earth’s population been before the invasion? Eight billion? Nine billion? Two million out of say, nine billion, was a fraction of a percent. The data verified what she’d observed with her own eyes—the Progg had come close to rendering humans extinct.
“The Progg-Res empire has collapsed, its population ravaged by a plague with a near 100 percent fatality rate. The members of its General Ministry are dead. There are only a few thousand Progg left alive among the conquered worlds of the former empire. Nor has the plague run its course; more may still die.”
Rok jerked. Grav—who’d obviously previewed the message—sat stone-faced. They’d always suspected the situation on their home world was grave, but this confirmed their suspicions that their family and comrades were likely dead. He’d indicated Progg didn’t form strong attachment bonds, but it still had to come as a blow. Chloe squeezed his hand in sympathy for his loss, but she didn’t rue the destruction of the Progg-Res empire. They had brought this on themselves.
“Serves the fuckers right!” somebody shouted. A second later, the same voice: “No offense, Grav—and, Rok.” That people judged Grav and Rok on their character and not by what others of their species had done, testified to their open-mindedness.
“None taken,” Grav said.
“It’s all right,” Rok spoke out.
Buqu’s arms waved like the inflatables at car dealerships. “Surviving humans are scattered in your rural and wilderness areas.
“You not only sustained a significant reduction in population, but you suffered an irreversible loss of knowledge and expertise.”
Irreversible?They all recognized their situation as challenging, but irreversible?
“New Springfield is the largest and most organized congregation of survivors, showing the most potential for recovery, which is why we are contacting you.”
We’re the largest? Fifty-two people?How can we be the most organized? Surely other people are doing what we’re doing?She hadn’t thought she could be shocked anymore. Of course, there was no way to verify what this alien said, but she had no reason to doubt the information, either.
“After much discussion and debate, we have decided to make an exception to the policy of noninterference and nonintervention and assist you in reestablishing yourselves. We can provide an energy source for living, communication, transportation, and we can send consultants to advise you and help you manage it. This is more than an opportunity to regain what you lost; you can advance. We also will locate and contact the eighty-four Progg still on Earth to inform them of the change in circumstances and arrange for their repatriation.”
Sending them back to a plague-infested world amounted to a death sentence. Harsh justice but fitting.
But what about Rok and Grav? Not them! She glanced at the man beside her. Rok looked alarmed.
“You currently have two Progg assisting you. It will be your decision whether we remove them. But all others will be repatriated.”
She let out a sigh of relief and felt Rok relax.
“Since the threat to the galaxy posed by Progg-Res has been eradicated, we have the resources to help you. Consider it an act of gratitude on our part. Decide if you wish to accept our assistance. If you do, an envoy will initiate the process and serve as your point of contact. We await your response.”
The hologram faded away.
Dead silence fell over the theater.
This is the vote. No wonder the council avoided making the decision—we’re not deciding for us—we’re deciding for all of Earth.The enormity of the decision facing them made her nauseous.
The room burst into a cacophony of shouted questions.
Rap! Rap! Rap!“People, please, I know you all have a lot to say—as well you should,” Laurel said. “I promise everyone will get a chance to speak. Let’s be orderly. One at a time. Raise your hands.”
