I had never seen it so dark before; it was as if the clouds were absorbing all available light. I was watching my longtime friend and cameraman, Horus, as he was trying to adjust the brightness setting on his camera so that I would at least be visible. He was having a hard time seeing the buttons. I laughed. “You should have a handle on that thing by now, huh?”
Horus ignored my jest and continued fiddling with buttons. “It’s never been this dark at this hour before,” he mumbled. It should have been dawn but still was no lighter than it was all night. “There, I got it.” He pointed the camera in my direction. “Ready when you are.” I nodded. “We’re rolling.”
“Good morning, early risers! This is Stoops coming to you from Town Center Square.” I gave my standard introduction like I did every morning on the local channel that Horus and I owned privately. We had very few viewers and the money was not great, but we enjoyed broadcasting whatever we felt like and not having to answer to anyone. It also made us somewhat of celebrities, which had its perks. I continued, “Don’t adjust your brightness; it is actually this dark outside.” We did not know if the public realized we had already adjusted the brightness, or if they were scared of the dark sky or not, but ironically the sky was about to show them something much scarier. “Now, I’ve never seen it this dark in my lifetime, so I can only venture a guess that the rainclouds have become extremely thick due to some rule of science that I am unaware of. We are taking callers so if anyone wants to chime in to our main number, currently on your screen, we’d like to hear if anyone has seen darker days or has a theory on the reason behind this phenomenon.”
I had not even finished the sentence when the clouds were pierced by giant vessels from an unknown origin. The spotlights created by the newly formed holes illuminated them as they hung motionless in the air. No later than when they dropped into visibility, they each released multitudes of smoke-trailed projectiles that struck the ground below and around them causing massive explosions that we could see from miles away.
It happened so quickly that I did not have time to say anything else before running toward some nearby buildings for cover. The explosions were getting closer by the second. Horus kept filming; his lens trained on the giant floating ships. The fire rolled in like a burning tidal wave. I called to Horus, “Move it, soldier!” I remember in the service he was so focused on the mission and the company’s survival that he would never have frozen in shock or terror. He probably turned that focus to his current camera work.
Hearing the word soldier must have dredged up memories of our time as partners in the service, because Horus instantly became more aware of his current situation. He turned my direction and ran full speed, but it was too late for him. A long shard of some metal object from out of sight fell spinning through the air and impaled him from behind. It stuck in the ground and held him fast, half fallen forward, a warning for any fool who dared stay in the open.
The fire was so close behind him that I had to dive behind the building or else share a similar fate. I landed with my back against the outer wall of the opposite side of the building, hoping it would keep me safe from the explosions quickly approaching this way. For the split second before the sky was blocked by flame, I witnessed more ships in that direction, also firing missiles. My heart sank. These, though, were farther away, so I hoped their missiles would not reach me, or I would be no safer here than standing right next to Horus.
The sky was erased with fire. The bricks from the top of the building I was using for cover were falling horizontally, as if someone had turned gravity sideways. It took less than a second for the building’s height to get dangerously close to ground level. All I could do was pray to the gods.
I awoke to darkness. I was not sure at first if I had actually awoken, or if I was dead. Once I let my eyes adjust, and came to realize that I was still alive, I could see tiny beams of faint light reaching down to me from cracks in the rubble I had apparently been buried in. Somehow, my body was not crushed, and I was able to move everything down to my fingers and toes. I did not have much room to move, so trying to dig out of this debris was going to be difficult. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually I gained leverage and moved chunks of building and bricks out of the way without bringing the whole pile down on myself. Once out of what would have been a lesser man’s grave, bloody and exhausted, I collapsed, fighting a losing battle against sleep. I did not wake up again for close to another day.
Now rested but dehydrated, I sat up and surveyed my surroundings. The clouds had thinned out enough to see that the destruction was not absolute. Some buildings were toppled, others hollow shells, but nothing was vaporized. Where houses and shops once stood, only piles of brick and rubble remained. I wondered if that was the desired effect: not to kill but to cripple. Obviously, there would be some casualties, but this was not an efficient way to eradicate, though it could easily break a people. There was no one in sight, only faint screaming, which may be what finally woke me.
I decided to pay my respects to Horus before finding the source of the screaming. There wasn’t much left of him for me to honor, though. His charred remains were unrecognizable, save the still intact tags around his neck. I pulled them off, shoved them in my pocket and bowed my head for a moment. When I was done praying for my best friend’s soul, I opened my eyes to see my camera. It was still in one piece. It was melted in a few places, but what remained of it still looked like it would function. I hoped for enough battery to turn it on. When the power light blinked, I felt relief, then sorrow; this camera was probably all I had left in the world.
I rewound the video and played it back until it cut off. I viewed the otherworldly craft fairly well. They were massive, like cities ripped from the ground and turned upside down, their skyscrapers reaching downward. They were gray in color and domed on top. The only other discernible feature was the letters “FOE” on the sides of them; foe, indeed. I wondered if it was through some cosmic coincidence that these off-planet beings had similar characters to ours in their own alphabet, or if it were some secret kept by our government that these ships were being conceived and constructed. It seemed unlikely that a secret that big could be kept from the public, especially since there were so many of them, so I ruled that scenario out. But how many were there, and did they destroy all civilization or only select locations? What was “FOE”?
I turned the camera on myself, “To those still with us: I have survived.” After that most obvious declaration, I sighed. “Unfortunately, my good friend and partner, Horus, did not.” I had to pause for a moment. I grasped his tags in my pocket, then steeled myself, took a deep breath and carried on. “I only hope that my broadcast is still reaching someone; that there are survivors tuned in out there that can contact me. There is strength in numbers, so I suggest we band together.” I looked at the clouds that still partly darkened the sky, “I don’t see the ships anymore, and I don’t know why this happened or what their plans are for us, but I promise you that I will find out.” A wave of determination came over me. I had given myself a mission, “For Horus.” My sole purpose now was to uncover the mystery of “FOE.” “I will sign off now to save power, and report in if I find anything. This is Stoops, signing out.”
I checked my pocket for my mobile communication device and pulled it out to ensure it was still operational. It seemed no one had tried to contact me since my first broadcast yesterday morning, or that all communication was down due to damaged towers. Hopefully it was not the latter, or I could forget joining with anyone anytime soon. With the camera tucked under my arm, I headed in the direction I believed the screams were coming from. Not the wisest idea in retrospect, since screaming usually denotes happenings that are generally bad, but I had to find someone. We had to unite for safety. I moved close to the demolished buildings, in order to stay out of the open, toward what looked like a hill. Upon reaching it though, I remembered that it used to be a larger building at one point, only recently made a hill. Next to it was a sturdier structure, one that had a bottom level that withstood the devastation. I darted into it for better concealment and looked out the window to a horrific sight.
Below me, down the hill, what could be hundreds of survivors were being loaded into some sort of large structure that was not from this world. I assumed it was some sort of transportation pod or ship, but if so, it was different and much smaller than the vessels that initially attacked us. A large bay door opened in front to become a ramp. Its overall shape was bulbous in front and tapered down to a smaller end, akin to that of a large aquatic animal, and teeth were painted on the top of the bay opening. As if it were not already enough that what might be the last of humanity was being forced into strange crafts, the ship was making a mockery of the whole thing by eating them alive. I also saw the assailants for the first time. They were shaped like us with two legs, two arms, and so on, though they had more fingers on each hand. They were clad in flat gray armor that covered every part of them, and carrying large slender weapons, similar to our own rifles, that were adorned with all manner of gadgets. There were about thirty of them that I could see.
The survivors were being ushered up the ramp in two single file lines. The red beams emanating from the ends of the weapons scanned back and forth over the lines of people. While that should have been enough to deter any heroic acts, some still attempted escape. The ones that resisted were beaten. The ones that still resisted were beaten to death. They would serve as examples for the rest. It seemed foolish to attempt escape against these odds, but I can also see the desire to flee from impending servitude, or whatever they had in store for us.
This is definitely where the screaming was coming from. I stopped watching. I slumped down with my back against the wall and cried. Those people were probably my only chance of forming any type of resistance, and they were gone. I turned my camera back on. “If anyone is still watching, I hope you stay hidden. What I have just witnessed is disheartening to say the least. I found survivors but they are being herded like cattle onto, what I assume, is one of their ships. I hope I am wrong, but I do not feel we can win this fight. We were blind-sided. We are out-gunned, and out-numbered. We are doomed.” I peered back out the window, this time with my camera. I stayed on the scene for a few seconds without word, letting whoever could be watching witness the futility of resisting alone. “This is what we’re up against. I don’t know how many of them there are, but an unorganized militia won’t be enough. We will need the might of our military to handle this. Stay together if you can and stay hidden. You may stand a chance against one or two of them if you gather forces, but don’t try anything brash. Please contact me if you can.”
I stopped broadcasting but used the zoom to view some of the details on their armor. I probably would have no idea about the actual function of anything, but perhaps I could make guesses based on my own military experience. The armor looked as though it could be airtight, although there were vents on either side of the face portion of the helmet. It appeared to allow for good mobility with plates covering large areas and a flexible looking material underneath covering joints. I focused on the rifle, trying to discern what all the extraneous pieces were for.
Before I could make headway on the rifle, though, my communication device made a tone indicating that I was receiving a call. I would have been ecstatic to contact someone else, except that the invader’s body whipped around to face me, its head angled in my direction. He was looking right at me! It started up the hill in my direction, rather quickly. It must have heard my tone. My position was compromised, and I had to run.
I sprinted as fast as I could past debris and other blurs, but I realized I could not outrun bullets, or whatever their guns fired. I looked back and saw that it had not come into sight yet, so I scanned for a viable hiding space. I noticed the perfect nook: an opening in a brick mound about two feet high that I could not see the back of. I ran back to it and rolled into the shadow. It was the longest few seconds of my life. I actually felt more in danger and helpless now than I did when the explosions went off. I held my breath.
I heard its quick footsteps getting louder, until it eventually passed me, and I could see it. It stopped on the same spot I had previously and looked at the ground. It must have seen that my tracks stopped there. Then a second one came. They spoke something unintelligible to each other, then split off and headed in two different directions away from my location. I finally exhaled a sigh of relief. I thought it already knew where I was hiding and would turn at me any second.
I waited a few more seconds and crawled out of the small cave. I could still see one of them in the distance, so I stayed low and followed as quickly and quietly as I could. Surprisingly, I was closing the distance between us. I noticed his head darting from side to side, so I ducked down whenever I thought there was a chance he could see me. Eventually he stopped short, turned to the right, held his rifle up and disappeared behind a half-standing building. I raced ahead to the building, went inside and found a window that overlooked the courtyard he had entered. The solitary invader had his weapon trained on an elderly man whose leg was stuck under a large portion of concrete.
I finally saw their training in action and took a second to study the creature’s stance and movements. It kept a low center of gravity, which is quite similar to the way I was trained. The way it held its weapon on target optimized stability and minimized fatigue. I was impressed, but not so much surprised to see this kind of behavior from a militaristic organization. I was surprised though, to see what happened next.
It fired its rifle, not at the helpless old man, but at the large chunk of concrete holding him down. Interestingly, I did not hear the sound of the rifle firing, but the bullet exploded on contact. It shattered the slab into pieces and freed the man from a slow death. The gunner made a motion, shooing the old man away. I hardly believed it; a sign of mercy from our assailants. Maybe it did not see him as useful, or maybe it knew he was just going to die out here in this wasteland anyway, but either way, I had to try and get answers. This was probably my only chance to see them close up, and either interrogate or take one out.
I placed the camera in the windowsill and pointed it at the incident. My reporter instinct would have told me to stay behind it, but my warrior instinct overcame all cowardice, perhaps sense as well, and I leapt out the window. I had to give those still watching either some hope, or a martyr to fight for. Either I would be a hero to rally behind, or this would be my last stand.
I stealthily ran around behind it while it turned back toward the ship of captives. It saw me and whipped around to fire at me a few times. I jumped and rolled behind a standing piece of concrete for cover. I heard it running at me and decided to meet him head on. I jumped out from behind my hiding spot when I felt it was close enough and grabbed its rifle from the side.
Using my body weight, I swung myself around behind it and freed the weapon from its grip. It turned back around aggressively, and once it saw I already had the rifle pointed in its direction, it put its arms in the air and stopped moving. I was startled by the movement. I was not sure if it was taking an aggressive stance or a submissive one, but I took a step back just in case.
I wanted to give it orders but I assumed it would not understand. I tried to use hand signals, thinking pointing at the ground would be enough for it to understand what I wanted it to do. Sure enough, it bent its legs and took a lower position, keeping its hands up. I was amazed at how similar its body structure was to ours. I wanted to see our attacker’s face. I wanted to know our enemy.
Not wanting to get close, and not seeing a way to remove the helmet myself, I imitated taking it off, again hoping it would understand. It did nothing. I looked down at the rifle. It had a similar setup to our own weapons, though my finger was almost too large to fit inside the trigger guard. I pointed it to the side and pulled the trigger, then motioned again for it to remove its helmet while debris was falling from the small explosion I had just created. This time it slowly brought its hands up to the sides of the headpiece and pressed a button that allowed air to rush out of the vents with a loud whoosh sound. The helmet came off and I nearly fell to the ground in shock.
I was not prepared to see the face that looked back at me. It looked exactly like us. For all I knew, it could have been one of us. “What is this!?” All thoughts of him not being able to understand me were discarded once I saw his face. “What kind of twisted joke is this!?” Were they imitating us somehow, or did they actually look like us? I realized he was holding his breath, probably worried about the air in our atmosphere. “The air is fine!” I kicked him in the chest. Either he would suffocate or not, I had no care for that at this point.
After he fell backward and exhaled, he took a deep breath and coughed a couple of times, then breathed normally. “Your oxygen levels are higher on this planet than our own. This will be beneficial to our continued survival,” he replied. I was floored again. “I was hoping not to breathe your air, since your bacteria will probably kill me, but you probably will too.” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask whether or not I would. I planned on it.
“How do you speak our language?”
“We learned it from you,” he said. “Your planet emits enough radio waves; it was actually quite simple. We knew your language before we arrived.”
“Why bother learning it if you were just going to kill us?”
“Not all of you. We just killed enough so you would not resist us. We will use the rest of you for labor. It would be hard to direct you if you did not understand us.”
“How do you look like us?” I was just asking whatever came to me.
“I imagine the same way you look like us.” He explained further, “Your form works on your planet, why do you think that other beings from similar planets that sustain life would not evolve the same way?”
“What are you doing here? Why did you attack us?”
“Well, we eventually used nearly all the natural resources on our home planet, and in doing so polluted it past the point of habitability. Now we go from world to world utilizing resources and inhabiting new worlds to keep our race alive and functioning.”
I had yet to ask the question I had set out to from the beginning: the quest I had given myself. “What is FOE?”
He paused before saying: “That is our designation. We used your characters so you could read it, and you would know what to call your new masters. It is an acronym for our government, for where we come from.” He paused again. “FOE stands for Federation of Earth.”
-Eric C Ross