Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. A story about alien contact that doesn’t happen as expected begins after the photo.
Genre: Science Fiction/Humor
The Last Day
Master Sergeant Boone stood beside the humvee and enjoyed a smoke and a beautiful sunset. The last, he expected, he would experience of either. The whole world knew about the aliens. After days of hovering in orbit, the world watched as this one small craft exited one of 80 ships. Most on Earth expected the end was near.
No one knew where it would land. Boone’s team was hastily assembled when F-15s chased the craft to this small military airbase. It slowed and landed beside the main terminal. Boone’s team hopped into their vehicles and raced out to meet the 50-foot long craft. It was very flat, with a cross-section like an airfoil. From above it appeared spade-shaped. Clearly designed for atmospheric maneuvering. As Boone’s team arrived, weapons leveled, a hatch opened in the top. A humanoid figure stepped out casually as though climbing out a common Cessna commuter plane.
Long, dark hair tumbled down as it removed it’s helmet. The “it” was most clearly a She, with delicate human-like features. She was obviously not human, yet with improbable human beauty. Boone approached her, M-16 at the ready.
“Oh you guys,” she grinned. “You’re so fun.” She pointed back at the F-15s buzzing angrily overhead. “I enjoyed the escort, by the way.” With confident strides she brushed through the stunned security team and headed for the terminal.
Boone rushed to catch up. This wasn’t how he expected first contact with aliens to go. “Uh ma’am. Halt…please.”
She spun on Boone. “Oh are you the welcoming party? Fine, I’ll need a fill up too. And then, I’ve heard so much about these Hamburgers. I’ll need an order of two hundred.”
“Uh, okay.” Boone gathered himself. She must do this a lot. “Welcome to Earth, first of all and…how do you understand English?”
“Silly! That’s…oh hang on.” Her brow creased. “Didn’t you know?”
Boone paled. Here it comes. “Know what? That you’re invading?”
“Well, perhaps some think hordes of salesmen are invaders. Didn’t you get our transmission?”
“Oh how embarrassing! Still, I should think it’s no surprise we’re here. You’ve been broadcasting constantly about alien contact. Now we’re interested and you’ve been accepted into the LAST (League of Amalgamated Species and Traders). It’s time for trade to begin. I expect your human hamburgers and frozen pizzas will be a hit on the open market. This is the last day of humans existing alone!”
Each week, Alastair Forbes offers one of his own photos as a writing prompt for flash fiction. Join the fun! http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2014/02/09/sunday-photo-fiction-february-9th-2014/