“Yep, he’s an Alien all right!”
I approached Picket’s house and surveyed it with the flashlight.
I noticed that none of his house windows had blown out. Some of the glass
was cracked but it was still intact. Maybe he had that strong film on the inside of
all his windows? I noted smugly that the window I had repaired with plywood several
years before was holding up just fine. Nearing the front door, a light appeared
above the latch and the door opened. Hmm, Picket must have a smart house wit
h some sort
of backup power I thought. I snorted. Of course, he would have a ‘smart’ house, I realized. I saw
that inside the doorway was a small vestibule area which was lit by a glowing panel on a second
door. This door looked much heavier than the first and did not have a knob or latch. The walls and
ceiling were an unadorned smooth white material, smoother then painted drywall, and the floor
looked like some form of gray sheet vinyl. I entered the vestibule and the first door closed
on
ce I had moved past. I stood there in the dim glow of the second door’s light and wondered
how to open it. One of the walls suddenly lit up fairly bright. Pocketing my flashlight, I
squinted into the bright light, and said “Hello? Picket? House? Or anyone ... Anyone home?”
“Hello,” the wall announced in a synthesized, feminine sounding voice. “I identify you as John
Abrams, the resident of the dwelling approximately 0.16 kilometers to the east. Welcome John.”
“Um ... yes? Picket said I was to
come here and take shelter. Who or what are you?” I asked.
“You may refer to me as Agent, John,” said the feminine voice before continuing. “I am
an augment of the one you call Picket” “What’s an augment ... um ... Agent?”
“I am what humans would refer to as an A.I. or artificial intelligence, though I
am somewhat limited without the presence of Picket. I currently control this dwelling and
the facility below. I have been instructed to remain active and watchful in case you chose
to enter a
nd seek shelter,” the voice said. “Well, I am not sure about
the ‘seek shelter’ part yet, but I did come over to snoop around a bit before
the big finale. Am I still allowed to enter?” “You may enter John. Please be aware that the
tectonic disruptions and quakes are increasing in both frequency and magnitude. The flooring
may become unstable and the upper parts of the dwelling may collapse at any time. I advise you
to proceed to the lower sublevel as rapidly as possible,” the synthetic voic
e stated before
continuing, “also, a massive flame front is expected to reach this area from the northwest in
approximately seven minutes, thus rendering the exterior areas around the dwelling uninhabitable.”
After a short pause, Agent continued, “The upper floor of this dwelling, if it remains intact at
that time, can only withstand the fire front for only an additional few minutes before temperature
differentials cause failure. Again, please proceed to the lower sublevel quickly. I will al
ight a
path to the main sublevel descent shaft area now”. The heavy inner door opened, and lights came
on in the room beyond. I left the vestibule and entered Picket’s main dwelling. I’d like to
say that Picket’s house was full of alien stuff, crazy stuff, unimaginable furniture, gizmos
or other high-tech gadgets, but sadly, it was completely empty. The rooms beyond were
bare, with walls and ceilings the same sterile white as the vestibule. The same gray sheet
vinyl looking material covere
d the floors. I noticed that on the walls there were a few power
outlets and data connections although they didn’t seem to be of the normal types. The lighting
came from glowing sections in the ceiling, flush and smooth, blending with the unlit
portions. I quickly inspected the main room and even investigated a few of the dark rooms
beyond and found not only no alien garbage, but no anything. I mentioned this to Agent.
“The upper floor of this dwelling was emptied over the past month and all
items, furnishing,
instruments and devices. They were taken to the sublevel below and either reduced
to base elements or placed in storage. Please proceed to the sublevel quickly John.”
A hallway to the side lit up. If I correctly remembered from the outside appearance Picket’s
home, this direction would lead towards his attached garage. At the end of the hall was a
door which opened as I approached. Sure enough, beyond was his garage. The garage was empty
except for one item, Picket’s whi
te Sprinter cargo van. I glanced inside the van’s side window
and it appeared to be a normal Benz Sprinter van both inside and out. The other side of the
garage beyond the van lit up at my approach, while at the same time, the lights
behind me in the house were extinguished. I sensed I was being herded and debated upon
continuing or trying to exit the dwelling and meet the end on my own terms outside. Just then a
heavy tremor hit, causing the floor to shudder. I staggered past the rocking v
an, almost dropping
the shotgun on the way. Unbalanced and feeling nauseous for a moment, I leaned against the back
of the van until the quaking subsided. I felt a pressure change in the air and the garage
door creaked loudly indicating that another shockwave had passed. This helped me make up
my mind about going outside and I decided to continue the tour. I approached the far side of
the garage where a patch of flooring was lit up. “Please stand on the lit
section of flooring, John.” I di
d as the feminine voice asked and stood
in the center of the lit area. Once there, a railing arose from the floor on all sides and
the floor started to sink. It was very smooth, but I still grabbed the railing with one
hand. Quickly I was carried below the level of the garage floor and sank deeper. The
descent continued past normal basement level without slowing. After what I imagined was
three basement depths ... or around 30 feet, I spoke up, “Agent? How deep are you taking me?”
The synth
etic voice replied loudly from the top of the shaft, “Almost there,
John, just a few moments longer!” I continued to watch the walls sliding past all
around me. I noticed that the walls appeared to not be concrete, but instead had the look of
compacted gravel or clay. I reached out to touch the wall as it slid upward and it felt not rough
or crumbly, but smooth and cool like glass. The descending platform finally slowed and stopped;
apparently, I was at the bottom. Over my head, near the to
p of the shaft I saw a lid or panel
slide closed with a loud click. I turned around and noticed a large metallic door behind me.
The railing at this side began to drop back into the floor of the platform and with a
loud clank, the door began to swing open. It was at least four inches thick and seemed
incredibly strong and heavy. The opening was large ... maybe six feet wide and eight feet tall.
Beyond the open door there was a brightly lit tunnel leading to another door, about
thirty feet a
way. The tunnel was circular, with curving walls and ceiling, and looked to
be made of the same hardened smooth clay or gravel as the shaft. The apex of the ceiling
was over five feet above the top of the door, and it was lit by a continuous glowing strip
running the entire length of the tunnel. The floor was a flat and smooth metal walkway of some sort
and stopped short of the walls on either side. I looked over the edge and saw the curved tunnel
walls continuing down and under the walkway
. I investigated the tunnel wall where I could reach
it by the entry door and ran my hand across the surface. It felt hard, cool and was very smooth.
Up close, it looked to me like the soil was bound together in a clear resin or filler of some sort.
Picket must have a method of hardening the earth into a seamless granite like solid material. Cool!
That would sure beat forming and pouring concrete. This tunnel sure was different, in fact, it
almost seemed alien! I thought with a snort. No ma
tter how strong the tunnel looked however,
I could still feel the quaking and tremors in the metallic walkway, so it appeared that it was
not complete proof against the chaos above. I approached the far door which was another
heavy metallic door the same size as the first. Agent spoke with the synthesized voice coming from
above this new door, “John, beyond this door is the main sublevel chamber. It is very strongly
constructed and should withstand even the most severe quakes. Please enter
quickly.”
The door clanked and swung open. I looked back the way I’d came and
noticed the first door was now closed! “Agent! What the hell? Are
you trapping me down here?” “John, please remain calm. I am not trapping
you in; I am trapping the danger out. Please enter the sublevel and I will then explain.”
I stood there for a long while, my heart thumping, wondering what to do. I caught myself glancing
down at my shotgun. Finally, I calmed a bit and decided to follow Agent’s instructions and
entered the next room. When I did, the heavy door began to close. I stood there and watched with
my teeth clenched, anxious and uncomfortable, as the door shut with a clank. Even worse, I
could now hear metallic scrapes and whines as what sounded like strong latches or bolts were
being dogged down tight. My ears even popped as the air pressure noticeably increased.
Lights activated on the ceiling and I heard Agent’s voice from deeper in the room.
“John, thank you for trusting me. You are now
much safer than you were while in the tunnel.”
I looked around the room. It was big! Larger than I expected at about forty feet or so
wide and probably a hundred feet long. The ceiling was curved and at its peak was about
twenty feet or so high or about the height of a two-story lobby. This space was much bigger
than my whole house! Unlike the entry tunnel, this room’s walls and ceiling were metallic like
the massive door. Even the floor was metallic. The portion of the room nearest the doo
r was
mostly empty though I noticed some sort of grating beside the door which appeared to lead
down into a large intake hopper below the floor. There were also various hose and cable attachments
in the wall next to the door. I noticed there were a few wheeled objects, small trolleys, carts,
and other movable devices in the vicinity of the door. Robots or Droids of some kind? Opposite
the floor grate was an area filled with large rugged looking crates and drums.
Walking deeper into the room
, I noted that the far half was filled with
machinery, appliances, strange gadgets, tanks and even what appeared to be a large coffin
or chest freezer. Thick cables or hoses led from this coffin to a row of large metallic boxes,
each the size of a commercial refrigerator. They were all covered with active lights and
displays projecting information of some sort. Beyond all this, against the high back wall of the
room, were a half dozen large cylindrical objects, each about six feet in diamet
er and extended
almost to the ceiling. Were they fuel or water tanks of some sort? Thick, heavy cabling
and conduits ran from these cylinders to various other devices around the room
and even up and through the metal roof, probably going up to the dwelling above. Each
cylinder also had a large colored glowing band near the top. The glowing bands on the five
cylinders to the left were a steady, glowing cool blue while the band on the cylinder at the right
end was pulsating slowly and glowed
a bright red. Agent spoke. “John. This room is constructed of
very strong and durable materials. You should remain safe from the firestorm above which is due
to pass by any minute. The room is also isolated somewhat and decoupled from the surrounding soil
and bedrock below and so should prove resistant to the continuing tectonic disturbances, quakes,
aftershocks, and tremors. Though resistant, I would advise you to take a seat on the padded
chair at the console I am now activating.” A cons
ole lit up in the middle of the room among
the devices and a large padded chair rose from the floor. I moved to the station and sat in the
chair. I cradled my shotgun in my lap, refusing to set it on the console or lay it on the floor.
“Thank you, John. The chair you sit upon has an active base mechanism which will
allow me to dampen any large shocks or quakes to a much more tolerable level.”
Looking around the room for a moment, I said, “Are we finally to the point in the tour
where you tel
l me what the hell is going on?” “Yes John. I have been instructed to provide
responses to many possible queries. Some subjects I am not allowed to discuss. Also,
be aware that I hope to allow you to directly communicate with the one you refer to
as Picket shortly. He has informed me that he would be available to contact you in
approximately two hours and twelve minutes.” “Picket? He’s still here? Last I saw
he was shooting off into space or something in his pod or whatever,” I exclaimed.
“
The one you refer to as Picket did indeed leave this location in a small, fast, personal escape
craft referred to as a Pod a short while ago. It was not ‘into space’ as you put it, but instead,
it is headed to another area on your continent. That area is what you would call the ‘main
base’, for this continent. Once he arrived there, the one you refer to as Picket was busy
coordinating the evacuation of that base, along with other similar bases across the planet.”
The voice paused a bit befor
e continuing, “The evacuation will involve the launching of larger
pods containing all accumulated data archives, including certain samples obtained on your planet,
to a safe location in high orbit. The one you refer to as Picket, as well as others like him,
will also be launching to this safe orbit. There, they will rendezvous and monitor the devastation
happening to your planet while completing other necessary tasks. Once safely in orbit,
the one you refer to as Picket hopes to communicat
e briefly with you.”
“Agent, you keep saying, ‘the one you refer to as Picket’. I assume
that means Picket is not his real name?” “Correct, John.”
“Well ... what is his real name?” I asked, a bit exasperated.
“The one you refer to as Picket’s species does not communicate names verbally. His
name is a mix of pheromones and visual skin patterns. I cannot represent either
to you in a way you would understand or be able to express. I am sorry, John.”
“Hmmm. I guess we’ll stick with Picket. Can yo
u just call him Picket then instead of
the ‘the one you refer to as Picket?” I asked. “Yes, John. I shall simply refer
to him as ‘Picket’ from now on.” “I wonder why he chose the name
‘Picket’ anyway?” I mused out loud. “That I can surmise, John. ‘Picket’ is an
adequate description of his duty here. He and his companions were tasked as sentinels of
your planet, along with supplementary duties of monitoring, collecting and cataloging
life forms. These duties were assigned from the time the
first attacks began and have
continued to the present. With the inevitable destruction of life on Earth, he is carrying out
the final protocols of his mission, evacuation.” That woke me up! “Wait a moment Agent, did you
say attacks? Are you saying that the current devastation happening to the Earth is an attack?”
There was a long pause followed before Agent finally replied. “Yes. The devastation above is
no natural disaster. It was planned and carried out by other entities from another star.
”
Oh my God! “Agent, who is responsible?” “I do not believe your current mental unrest
would be improved by continuing this conversation, and I am concerned that—”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit, Agent!” I interrupted, “My planet is
being destroyed. Don’t you think I have the right to know what is going on?”
Again, Agent paused. “In-depth information on the beings attacking your planet was not
considered critical to the continuation of my mission. That data was removed and sent with
the rest o
f Picket’s research when he evacuated. I will attempt to explain, but further details
will have to come from Picket, if he is willing to provide more information when you are able
to communicate with him directly. Your planet was targeted, John, and from that moment more
than seventy Earth-years ago the extinction of your species and civilization was inevitable.
Picket and his team began their mission of observation after your planet was selected, in
order to preserve as much data as possib
le.” “Observe! Why not try to stop them? Why
not warn anyone?” I asked, getting angry. “A warning would have just caused increased
panic and a longer period of suffering. There truly was no option for survival. I am sorry.”
I paused to consider her words. What a mess! I guess blame did not matter much now with billions
already dead and billions soon to die. Did I need to know the details when I soon planned to join
them? I sagged in the chair and rubbed my tired forehead. I was coming down f
rom a bit of an
adrenaline rush caused by the past hour and the effects of the alcohol I had consumed earlier.
I remember something Agent had said. “His team ... companions ... that means there
are others like him on Earth. How many?” “There were seventeen other beings similar to
Picket active on your planet. Five, including Picket, are currently at the main base in north
central Mexico on this continent attempting to launch into orbit now. Two were the main base in
the southern Amazonian p
lateau in South America, but their escape pod was destroyed as they lifted
off by an unexpected impact event approximately eleven hours ago. Three of his associates
were based in Africa and were successfully evacuated yesterday. The remaining eight
operated out of a central base in Asia which had field bases ranging across the continent
and hemisphere from Europe to Australia. They were also evacuated yesterday, mainly because
that hemisphere of your planet was the first to receive multiple
impacts.” Agent reported.
I was quiet for a moment digesting that. Picket had not been alone! There were other aliens
on earth and they apparently ranged across the entire planet. So many questions came to
mind. I could hardly decide what to ask first. “Where did they come from?” I blurted.
“The eighteen beings were made up of three species, each from star systems
originating far outside of this local system, although two of those species existed
on many planets surrounding many stars.” “Th
ere are humans on other star
systems?” I exclaimed excitedly. “Those beings are not human, John.
None of those species were human” “Picket sure looked human enough to me.”
“Picket was altered. All beings who were stationed on this world were altered
to appear humanlike,” Agent replied. I digested that for a bit before asking, “Can
you show me what Picket looked like before?” Agent hesitated for a moment. “I would rather
not at this time. I calculate that Picket would prefer to keep his orig
inal appearance
from you to spare you further anxiety.” I sat and thought, looking around the
room at all the gadgetry and machinery. “What did Picket do down here in this
bunker then ... if you can tell me that?” “Picket used this location as a field station
to support his mission to observe humanity, collect information and obtain specimens of
plant and animal life. He traveled the continent extensively by air and chose this location
because it was central to the area he studied.” “Ha, I
bet he hated waiting for flights!” I
snorted, remembering the hassle of traveling to and from Sioux Falls because of its
smaller airport with fewer daily flights then the larger cities had. It seemed like
it would make a poor hub for continental travel and I said as much to Agent.
“Picket had access to his own jet aircraft which had continental range.
He could travel freely at any time.” That again gave me pause. I remembered Picket
trying to pay me with fresh hundred-dollar bills and myse
lf speculating that he
was a reclusive Billionaire. Of course, high technology aliens would have the ability
to create wealth. I guess the location made sense if you had money. It probably allowed him a
great deal of privacy and anonymity as there were for sure fewer people living around here.
“How long did he live here and how did he manage to build this base in
secret?” I asked, remembering my grandparents had lived here for decades.
“Picket arranged the purchase of this dwelling over a de
cade ago. Once here, he cleared the
contents of the existing dwelling, garage and barn and released assemblers to reinforce those
structures from the inside. Below the garage he used burrowing assemblers to dig down and release
binding chemicals into the surrounding soil and strata to a depth of over thirty meters. Once
the area was stabilized, he excavated the shaft, connecting tunnel and sublevel chamber with
a large automated reduction tool. The tool was capable of precise excavation and
removal
of material. After excavations was complete, large deliveries of power units and other devices
and equipment, including Pickets escape pod, were delivered by automated transports in the middle of
night over the next few months,” Agent explained. Hmm ... I recalled Picket coming and going
with his cargo van. He had been a very busy beaver ever since he got here apparently.
“What about this room? Did he do his dissections or samplings or whatever down here?”
“No dissections. No killin
g at all. Picket would sample other life forms with his scanner
without touching those forms at all. His scanning devices are very, very sensitive,
even scanning down to the molecular level.” “So, he actually lived here, ate and slept? Did
he need sleep? Upstairs was bare and I don’t see much in the way of furniture, food
or even a bathroom down here,” I asked. “Those functions and uses can be provided
here in this room, John. He did need sleep, though less often than humans, and he did liv
e
here. Picket has the ability to create items, including food and furnishings, or to remove
debris such as waste or surplus equipment. I noticed you studying the intake hopper by
the entry. Waste or surplus items go into that hopper where it is reduced to molecules
in the machinery below. There, it is separated into base elements for storage, also below.”
“Another device here can then create new items or materials of most forms or functions on demand
using those stored base elements. Food,
tools, furnishings, almost anything can be created using
this device. Think of these devices as a very, very advanced form of incinerator and 3D printer.”
This gave me pause. It explained many things I had noticed over the past few years. It explained
Picket’s comment to Colby about not producing garbage. Hell, it even explained what Picket
did with that tree that had fallen after the big storm, which he had removed and carried
into his garage! What exciting possibilities those machines rep
resented! I could barely
imagine the complexity of that technology. I suddenly remembered another mystery. “Shit!
That explains the backwards lettering on the tire he provided when I first met him!” I blurted.
“Yes, Picket was concerned when he noticed that you spotted that mistake. He had scanned the
vehicles opposite tire and rim and produced a duplicate, but mirror image replacement down here.
He was distracted by your presence and did not realize that a mirror image wheel and tire were
not needed. He had overlooked the tire lettering until he saw you noticed it. He remained on alert
for weeks after that incident,” Agent admitted. “On alert, what does that mean? Was he
prepared to ‘take me out’ or something if I raised a stink about it?” I asked,
imagining being shoved into the hopper by the door and disintegrated or something. I shuddered.
“No, nothing like that. He began to disassemble certain items of equipment and had his companions
standing by to help quickly relocate
the field base to another location if you had expressed
concern over the matter,” Agent explained. “Over time, he relaxed the alert as
you demonstrated the ability to keep the matter to yourself and not raise questions
while continuing to keep his actions private. Those and other reasons are part of why he
extended the offer of refuge and survival to you and why we are speaking at this moment.”
Just then, the floor heaved and rolled for a long while. The room swayed and some of
the drums an
d crates shook and shuddered a bit. The chair I was in moved back and forth,
countering the room’s movement. I was uneasy, but not to the extent where I felt nauseous,
which was greatly appreciated. It seemed Agent was correct when she said that the room
and especially the chair were isolated somewhat. After a bit, the movement calmed.
“John, the quake which just passed would have measured in the low 8’s on your world’s Richter
scale. I am sorry to report that your home has completely collap
sed as did a large portion
of Picket’s dwelling above,” Agent informed me. On the console screen, a video image appeared
which showed my home, burning now, toppling over in the quake. After a few seconds more, the video
itself froze which I guessed was from the camera or recording device itself being destroyed.
The video sobered me. It was all gone now. I never thought I would miss that old house and
its memories until I saw it reduced to a pile of rubble. My sad life and my home of the past
six years was over and gone. My beautiful yard! My poor mower! I guess living there alone,
depressed, I had never noticed that I had grown attached to the house and property. I now
realized that they were about the only things to bring a bit of joy to my life in recent
years. I had been living as a minimalist, so my possessions were few and probably would
not be missed, except for maybe my mower. I sat up quickly when I remembered that the few photos
I had kept of Abby and Mary were now g
one. I wept.
Comments
Not sure what I am more curious about.. Pickett's history or John's