The Chosen Few

You may be asking why we were selected. It was a lottery. We submitted our names, higher ups spoke with each of us, thought we were intelligent enough to take on the task, and our household won the “the family division” honor.

Aliens from outer space finally got around to contacting we humans, but they did not want to expose themselves to all mankind at one time. They sought to meet a few different nationalities, races, and genders. And they wanted to meet families, scientists, teachers, performers, and others.

That opened-up a huge sack of questions but it was up to us, we chosen, to talk with these aliens and figure them out. Only a hand-full of us would initially meet them. All involved were assured they were peaceful, or the lottery would never have been opened to the masses.

Maybe we should have thought a little deeper about what we were getting ourselves into, but it was the opportunity of a lifetime! It was like being asked to be the first family to visit another galaxy. How could we say no?

My husband and I took our kids, Max and Billie, out of school and promised their teachers and the principal that we would talk to the student body about our adventures when we returned – free of charge. It was only going to be for a couple of weeks. One week for the visit and another to face the press and mass media.

On the weekend before we were to meet the aliens, our group were taken to a fancy hotel, a truly lovely place, and we were told to order room service, enjoy the pool, and all amenities. All on the house, of course. We were given questions to ask the aliens but we were also encouraged to be politely casual with them. Basically, we were to take it all in, learn, and enjoy ourselves.

“You are celebrities.” we were told.

It seemed too good to be true.

Sunday was our last day of normalcy. We had lunch with some of the other chosen people and they all appeared as excited as ourselves. They were a good group. One was a Grandmother of six and she told us the youngest of her daughter’s boys was very sincere when asking for an alien autograph! Another was an actor, Grant Eichler, that we had recently seen in a successful big budget movie. He was as into this project as the rest of us and did not put on airs.

We all laughed, bonded, then went our separate ways, walking the grounds of the hotel and basking in our good fortune. Then night came and we were restless but, oddly, we all fell deeply asleep in our beds.

The following morning, drifting awake, it was discovered we were no longer in our hotel rooms. During the night, we were placed in sleeping bags and were moved into tents. We all emerged confused and feeling a little deceived. We were in a clearing, in a wooded area, and each of our tents dotted a hillside.

“I don’t understand.” My husband said as we all gathered around what looked like a fire pit. “Why did they bring us here in secret?”

Mrs. Hughes, the Grandmother I told you about earlier, pulled nervously at the red scarf around her neck. “Because they did not want to reveal where our alien friends are located?” she speculated.

“They could have blind folded us.” Dr. Michael, a physicist, remarked. “They must have drugged us. How else could all of us get here without waking up?”

I looked back at Max and Billie, my young son and daughter, indifferent to our unexplained situation. They played near our tent, looking up into the trees, and hopping over flowers. As far as they were concerned it was a camp-out and nothing more. The innocence of youth, I thought.

“Look!” Grant, the movie star, pointed toward the heavens. “I saw a flicker, like a bolt of energy, sizzle through the sky.”

“What do you think it was?” I asked, nervous. “Lightening?”

“I don’t know … but it reminded me of a reflection of light off of glass.” He shrugged, “Maybe I’m just seeing things.

We suddenly heard an odd noise. A reverberation of sorts, coming from above. It was an eerie sound and it made our children stop and take notice, their play at an abrupt end. Billie’s hand slipped into mine.

Then the ground moved, our bodies seeming to lift then fall to the forest floor, and Mrs. Hughes - unable to help herself - screamed. It was a short but loud cry and reflected all our fears in a span of about ten seconds.

The odd sound, the reverberation, was heard once again but at a different timber.

“Voices.” I said but did not know why I thought it.

“Are the aliens coming?” Max asked his Dad in a whisper and my husband patted him gently on the back, to assure him, even though my beloved looked less secure than I had ever seen him.

“Mom! Dad!” Billie directed all of our attentions upward again and we saw it. A giant blue eyeball was staring down at us from the sky. We were being scrutinize by the very large aliens we were to meet, talk with, and observe.

“Oh, dear Lord!” Mrs. Hughes sank to her knees and wept into her hands.

The rest of us could only stare and feel helpless.

We were like organisms underneath the lens of a microscope!

*

They were more like specimens, living in a fishbowl or terrarium.

That was where the scientists from Earth placed their new alien lifeforms, given to them by others on their home world, to observe, experiment with, or sacrifice if necessary. They seemed a gentle species, these nearly human-like creatures, but the Earthlings needed to know more before they opened their world to the unfamiliar extraterrestrials.

They were tiny, almost visually insignificant to the casual eye, but also fascinating and striking. The scientists, the leaders, and the informed in Area 51, thanked the alien leaders of this old and pragmatic world for their contributions and test subjects.

The Earthlings promised to treat them well – until their dying days.

THE END.