Contact.



Start 9901162233
Working Title: Contact (unfinished)

The sentient had carefully chosen the time to reveal itself to him. It's designers had closely, discretely watched this unremarkable man, the most promising of the many unaware candidates, for some time. They had made their choice, this was to be the instigator.

The small craft that was the sentient's body hovered 8 metres above the level of the dwelling. Silent, and invisible but for the stars it blocked in the royal blue of the midnight sky, it let the cool breeze pass over it's wings, spared a moment to relish the sensation. So long since it had swam in a planetary atmosphere.

Satisfied that the time had come at last, and with the gentle, benevolent, encouraging empathy from it's designers, the sentient made a slight adjustment to it's wings and allowed itself to be carried by the breeze to the ground vehicle lane in front of the dwelling. There, after a furtive glance through a multitude of shipboard and orbital sensors, it deemed the location safe for a short time, extended feet and lightly touched down.

---

Inside the dwelling, the unremarkable man was completely unaware of the life-changing events about to unfold. The vidnews told the same stories of escalating conflict between fanatical countries, injustices, indecencies, diplomatic protests, sincere acts of mercy then made in the face of horrific, anonymous, politically motivated manoeuvres. All available for instant replay.

He turned it off, then walked out to the balcony to stretch and look up at the stars. Almost as if seeking an answer to his turmoil. He had long since been forgotten by this race called human, yet he yearned to make a difference. To strengthen the race's faltering optimism & benevolence rather than sliding down the steep, slippery, seductive slope of apathy, cynicism, indifference.

There it was again! That sensation of something just beyond the visual, just beyond the aural. Almost like a ghost you can never see when looking directly at it. He had felt this for some months now, like a moth carefully staying on the fringes of peripheral vision; movement noticed and yet not to be seen.

And then there were the dreams. Visions of experiences long past, almost as if someone were replaying and judging his life, his decisions.

"I did the best I could."

The unremarkable man sighed to himself, surprised at his involuntary spoken plea, and thought the thought of many a visionary of his time as well as of those in times past:

I'm going mad.

Chuckling quietly, he returned to the dwelling's main living area, dismissing the thoughts as spurious.

---

The sentient watched the human as he moved towards the balcony of the dwelling. It felt apprehension, even fear, that it's very presence had preempted what must be handled so carefully. With all the intelligence, subterfuge, and formidable countermeasures available to it, it could do nothing but wait silently motionless in the hope that this man did not notice the craft directly in front of his dwelling. To it's relief, the man eventually returned to the dwelling. Phase two.

The sentient deployed a drone that was to be it's mouthpiece for first contact. The subsentient drone, no larger than a groundvehicle hubcap, silently and singlemindedly flew towards the dwelling, then after a short scan, inside. The sentient would have held it's breath if it knew of such a mechanism.

---

The man was busy perusing the third shelf of the fridge in search of something, anything, edible. He settled on two day old pizza. Picking up the plate to put in the microwave, he paused, then dropped the plate as a flicker of movement manifested itself in the form of a... a... thing! It floated at eye level seemingly oblivious of the laws of gravity.

The drone regarded the man silently. Obviously the man could see it. It opened it's audio repeaters for the sentient.

"Good evening Mr. Matthews, please do not be alarmed."

The human fainted. The drone hovered above the body, unsure of what to do next. A short time later the man's eyelids fluttered and consciousness returned. The man's eyes opened, then widened. He scrabbled backwards eventually - and abruptly - meeting with the kitchen cupboards behind him.

"Mr. Matthews, I/we mean you no harm, if you will grant me/us a few..." the sentient searched for the proper term, "minutes of your time, I/we will explain."

The man blinked rapidly as the 'thing' hovered 1 metre in front of him.