Colliding Skies

by Debbie Zaken

  “You’re going to prom?” Chase’s eyebrows jumped almost to his hairline.

  “Yeah, prom. Why is that so hard to believe?” I snapped at him.

  “Prom, huh? So you really like this Taylor.” Humor coated Dad’s voice.

  I let out a loud sigh. “Mom, please make him stop.”

  She laughed under her breath. “Okay, that’s enough torturing her.” Then she glanced at me, a too happy smile on her face. “But I’m glad you’re going to prom.”

  I gave her an unabashed eye roll, and we continued watching the news in much-welcomed silence. The story was breaking news on every channel. Television anchors interviewed meteorologists and experts on climate change offering all kinds of theories, but no one could explain the bizarre natural phenomenon. Supercell thunderstorms were common in the Great Plains, not the Northeast.

  When the news became repetitive, I went to bed, but the relentless thunder and strong winds that shook my window made it hard to sleep. I was lying under the blanket reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for the hundredth time when I heard voices filtering in under the crack in my bedroom door. I put the book down and listened to my parents’ low, frustrated voices. Tiptoeing on the hardwood floors to my parent’s room, I flattened my back against the wall. I could hear them; their bedroom door wasn’t fully closed.

  “You can’t go out in this kind of weather,” Mom argued with Dad.

  “I have to. I can’t just ignore orders from the head of the CIA and the Director of National Intelligence.” Dad sounded calm, but an edge carried in his voice.

  Something was wrong. Dad may have worked for the CIA, but he was hardly Jason Bourne. He was a scientist.

  “This is crazy. Where are you going?” Mom asked.

  He let out a deep sigh before responding. “I can’t tell you. I’ve been instructed not to.”

  I couldn’t see Mom’s face, but I felt the sudden fear take over. It mirrored the one rising inside of me.

  “I really don’t like this, Jonathan. Putting yourself in danger. What could they possibly need you for that can’t wait until it’s safe to travel?” Her voice bordered on pleading.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but this is important. Honey, everything will be fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She sighed in defeat. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  I tiptoed back to my room and sat on the edge of my bed, dread anchoring me in place. What kind of research was urgent enough to bring Dad in during a raging storm? I was about to grab my phone from the nightstand to message Taylor when the screen lit up with his incoming call.

  “Have you seen anything unusual?” he asked before I could get a word out.

  “Aside from the supersized storm clobbering the city? Yes. My dad was just called into some urgent meeting with the Director of National Intelligence.”

  A long pause came through the line.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” I asked.

  “My father just left to meet with the National Security Council. What does your father do again?”

  “He’s an aerospace engineer. He like, breaks apart enemy weapon aircraft systems and puts them back together to see how much of a threat they are.”

  “Enemy aircraft? Like planes?”

  I remembered the light I’d thought I’d seen in the cloud. But no plane could survive a bombardment of lightning and grapefruit-sized hail. “Do you think it’s the same meeting your father is in?”

  “It’s definitely the same. The NSC is the President, the Secretary of Defense, and the Director of National Intelligence.” He paused, tension building up on both sides of the line. “I’m telling you, there was something in the cloud. Maybe not a plane, but… What if this is some kind of attack?”

  “Like terrorists?” My throat went dry.

  “Your father is a weapons expert, the President was evacuated, and top levels of the military and intelligence are being mobilized. What else could it be?”

  “But storms aren’t man-made.” This had to be some sort of freak natural phenomenon.

  “Skye, does that look like a natural storm to you? My father said something about red lights.”

  “Red lights?” I wandered to the window and peeled the curtain back. The lightning in the distance lit up the night sky while Taylor’s words twisted my stomach into an uneasy knot.

  “Turn on the television.” Taylor’s shaking voice broke the tense silence echoing in my ear. “What do you see?” The words stumbled out.

  I turned to the small flat screen on my wall, flicked it on, and stared at the image: the onyx cloud with its voluminous rings draping the city, its unnerving blue glow the only light in the sky.

  “The same storm.”

  “Look for it. Do you see the flashes of red light?”

  The kink tightened around my stomach while my eyes searched the screen hard for the pulse of red I’d seen on our picnic. And then I saw it, a short flicker. So fast, I couldn’t be sure I’d seen anything at all. But a second later, it flashed again. This time I gasped.

  “Oh, my God, Taylor, you were right. There was something there all along. What if it’s some kind of chemical warfare? And why isn’t there anything on the news about this? We can’t be the only ones who see it.”

  “I don’t know,” he responded. “But whatever this is, I think we’re about to find out. The storm’s weakening. You see the clouds dissipating at the bottom?”

  The bottom ring did appear to be getting thinner. The stone pillar base of the Washington Monument was now visible under the blue flashes of lightning, which were also weakening. Just then, a row of red lights flashed illuminating two large, circular vents at the bottom of what looked like a concave metal shape.

  Taylor cursed. “No way. No effing way.”

  “What is that?” A cold shiver ran down my arms, making my voice tremble.

  “I know this sounds crazy. I know how impossible it is, but the lights, that metal thing...The storm is a smokescreen.”

  “A smokescreen?”

  He took a sharp breath. “Skye, this isn’t a terror attack. It’s an invasion.”

  NO SOONER HAD Taylor uttered those words that my phone went dead. I tried rebooting it several times, but all I got was a blank screen. No calls, no texts, no Wifi. Nothing. And it wasn’t the only electronic device not working. The power was on, but the TV had gone black, just like my phone. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be a rational explanation.

  I went downstairs and found Mom in the kitchen. Fabric swatches and design magazines spread out all over the beige granite counter top. She was trying to occupy herself with work, but her fingers twitched while she flipped through a catalogue.

  Her eyes jerked to me. “What are you doing up?” The rain and winds still rattled the windows.

  I didn’t respond. Under her curious gaze, I went around the house trying her cell phone, the TV in the family room, every laptop and tablet I could find, even the land line, but nothing worked. I couldn't even get the small, portable radio in the kitchen to transmit anything but static.

  “This is impossible. Mom, everything is down.”

  “I know, sweetie. It’s a bad storm.”

  But this sudden media blackout seemed too extensive and more than a little convenient to be the result of weather conditions. Someone or something had done this on purpose.

  “Don’t you think it’s strange that nothing works but the lights?”

  “Honey, go back to bed. I know you’re worried, but it’s almost over now.”

  The dread churning my stomach told me how wrong she was. This was just the beginning and Dad was out there facing who knew what. “Have you talked to Dad since he left?”

  “How—how did you know Dad was gone?”

  “Have you talked to him?” I asked again, my voice cracking slightly at the end.

  “Honey, he’s only been gone a little while. I’m sure everything is fine.”

  “How do we know
that? There are no phones, no email, nothing!” I turned and grabbed my car keys from the counter, determined to find him.

  Taylor’s theory may be crazy, but whatever is hiding beneath that cloud can’t be good.

  “Skye.” She followed me to the door. “Have you lost your mind? Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Dad’s in danger. We need to find him.”

  “Stop. You can’t go out now.” She put her hands on my shoulder, but I shrugged them off.

  “You don’t understand. This storm… it’s not really a storm, it’s a…a…”

  A terrorist attack? A UFO? I had no idea what it was, but one thing was for sure, it wasn’t going to end well.

  “Guys, can you come in here?” Chase called from the living room, a nervous edge to his voice.

  “Chase, why are you up, too?”

  “Mom, just come here.” Chase’s voice was sharp, utter panic laced in his words. “The TV is back. You—you’ve gotta see this. Look!”

  The fear in his voice made me run to him. It was the same dread that had a choke hold on my throat. Chase’s trembling finger pointed at the screen. My brain couldn’t process the image on the television screen. It was too uncanny, too surreal to be true. On the lawns of the Washington Monument laid a large disk-shaped object, its surface so sleek and sheen, it looked like a giant drop of liquid mercury had fallen from the sky. Nothing could have prepared me for the silver ship. The military had wasted no time. Battle tanks and armored vehicles encircled the spacecraft, their cannons and heavy machine guns aimed, ready to attack. Dozens of black helicopters swarmed above. Police units and SWAT teams formed a perimeter around the large vessel. Behind them, a brigade of fire fighters, ambulances and HAZMAT trucks waited to respond to the impending mayhem.

  We stared dumbfounded at the standoff between the military forces and the spacecraft. The captions on the screen read: Unidentified Spacecraft Landing—Foreign Threat or Alien Invasion?

  “Chase, turn up the volume,” I barked.

  An unseen female news anchor spoke. “This just in. You are looking at a very unnerving live shot of the Washington Monument. Less than an hour after being hit by the worst storm D.C. has seen in a number of years, we have reports of an unidentified spacecraft landing on the grounds of the National Mall. At this time, we’re not sure what this is. Rumors range from a foreign military weapons system to a spacecraft, possibly belonging to some form of non-human intelligence.”

  A male voice joined the scene, though the picture of the tanks didn’t change. “Marcy, are we really looking at an extraterrestrial spacecraft? Couldn’t this be a potential terror attack or an act of war? Is there any word on other such appearances around the world?”

  “No, Charles, there are no reports of anything like this landing or being sighted elsewhere. Officials, however, have yet to confirm or deny anything. All I can tell you is that one moment the storm was winding down and then, out of nowhere, this silver, flying saucer appeared. Within seconds, it was pandemonium! Special Forces, SWAT teams, choppers, all in the heart of D.C. As you can see by the military response on the ground, this is being perceived as a clear and present threat to homeland security.”

  The camera panned out to show more of the silver vessel surrounded by military forces under the still-stormy sky.

  “This is a hoax,” Mom uttered, her head pivoting from side to side in disbelief. “A very elaborate hoax.”

  “No, Mom. Taylor was right. The storm was a front—a smokescreen to conceal something bigger. But the military, the CIA, they knew. That’s why Taylor’s dad got called in. That’s why Dad is there now. They’ve known for a while. How else could they have deployed all those tanks and helicopters so quickly? Maybe it was the government or whatever is inside that spacecraft that caused the blackout…but they didn’t want us to see what was happening.”

  Overhead, a thunderous noise ending in a sonic boom rattled the windows.

  “Did you hear that?” Chase looked at us with eyes as round as the giant alien saucer on the TV screen. “Those were jet fighters that just flew over our house. That’s a lot of tanks, soldiers and aircraft to be a hoax.”

  Mom’s eyes widened and her face paled. “Jonathan.”

  She staggered as though she was about to fall, and Chase and I each grabbed one of her arms. But we were shaking, too. We didn’t know if Dad was safe—if any of us were. We watched the troops standing their ground, waiting. The tension poured from the television into our living room. No one moved. No one breathed. The tanks, the soldiers all stood as still as stones. Even the helicopters appeared to have frozen in the air. The female journalist spoke in a hushed whisper.

  “This is unlike anything we’ve seen before. F-18s just zoomed by. It’s like we’re on the brink of war. With whom or what? God only knows. But I’m afraid we’re about to find out.”

  We stood there watching, waiting, for what seemed like forever. Yet, the resplendent vessel gave no sign of life. I was beginning to think maybe it was a hoax after all, when suddenly, a red beam of light flashed all around the spacecraft, reflecting off the armor of the tanks. I gasped, along with Mom, Chase and the news anchor.

  “There’s a red light glowing around the spacecraft. This must be a sign. I don’t know what it means, folks, but I believe what we’re about to see will forever change the course of history,” the female journalist marveled.

  And then, so quick you would’ve missed it if you blinked, the screen went blank and reappeared with a much closer view of the spaceship. Something told me this wasn’t the news channel’s transmission anymore.

  Terror expanded in my chest as two wide metal doors surfaced from under the depths of the liquid metal ship. A walkway extended, connecting both entryways in a wide semicircle. My heart hammered.

  The figure that stepped out was no reptilian-like creature or green figure with a large head and protruding eyes, like the ones I’d seen in so many movies. This was a girl, only a few years older than me. Not just a girl, an angel. The most breathtaking creature I’d ever seen.

  Her bright, blue eyes and golden hair gave her an ethereal beauty. The incarnation of Boticelli’s Venus. And like a Roman goddess, she glided to the middle of the platform, her flowing ivory gown showing off her glistening porcelain skin. Her face was serene. She looked unconcerned with the presence of the armed soldiers, tanks and helicopters surrounding her, ready to kill. Or try to kill, because I couldn’t imagine that such a heavenly creature could possibly be mortal.

  There she stood, like the queen of some mythical kingdom looking down at her subjects. Her gown seemed to billow in the wind caused by the helicopters. A placid smile stung her full lips. When she spoke, her voice filled the air with an alluring echo.

  “Greetings, Earthling friends. You need not fear us. We are neighbors and come with a message of peace and goodwill, with the promise of a new era of hope for all humankind.”

  Her voice, her words, her very presence… Everything about this divine creature radiated peace and serenity. As she spoke, a subtle shaft of light surrounded her. The vessel glowed too, like a giant prism casting a luminous rainbow of colors all around. Everything around me disappeared, except for the colorful glare in front of my eyes. Panic and tension melted into inner peace and love. Pure euphoria spread through me.

  I’d never considered myself a religious person, never really thought about God or had anything that could resemble a religious experience. But just then, staring at the glowing lights, I knew I was in the grace of God. My soul was alight, filled with an elation the likes of which I never knew possible. The feeling was so great, I became weary. My eyelids grew heavy and my body limp.

  I knew if I closed my eyes, I’d never wake up. Yet, I couldn’t resist the incandescence calling me. My soul was rising to go to this luminous heaven.

  This is it. I’m dying. I’m ready.

  The light went completely black.

  THERE WAS NO attack. No shots were fire
d, no battles fought. Everyone within a fifteen mile radius of the alien craft was simply lulled into peaceful unconsciousness. No one knew exactly how long it lasted, but when Chase, my mom, and I woke up the next morning on the living room rug, the President was holding a press conference on the lawn of the White House. Standing next to him was the radiant blond extraterrestrial who had hypnotized the entire city: Abigail, their spokesperson. Her voice was sweet and melodic as she spoke in perfect English.

  “It is an honor and a privilege to serve humankind. On behalf of the Commonwealth of Celeia, I present you with a gift,” she said, her blue eyes piercing through the TV screen like lasers. She extended a slender arm. In the palm of her hand shone a light, like a tiny star. The particle of light grew brighter and in a blinding flash a crystal appeared.

  “The Pillar of Knowledge,” she declared, a smile on her angelic face. “Crescat Tacres Oscelave Tiascien. Let knowledge grow, let peace prevail.”

  The glowing crystal floated out of her hand and into the air, casting a light all around. Like magic, it flew, growing brighter and taller until it became a sparkling blue tower. When it stood erect on the South Lawn of the White House, it was about as high as the Washington Monument.

  According to the news reports, the ship that had landed in D.C. was the only one sent by the Celeians, commissioned to the heart of the nation’s capital, the ideal place for an intergalactic diplomatic mission. Within twenty four hours of its landing, the damage left behind by the massive thunderstorm —a result of the electrical energy generated by the alien ship—was repaired. The city looked pretty much the way it had before, except that D.C. was now a fortress.

  No one was allowed in or out. The armored vehicles and helicopters enforcing martial law made sure everyone stayed in their homes. Even the media was limited. I was going up the wall not being able to see my friends. Emily, my now alien-obsessed best friend, texted me non-stop about the Celeians. She’d ask me questions, like did I think Abigail, their drop-dead gorgeous spokesperson, was naturally beautiful or did the aliens have some cosmic beauty cream that could make anyone super-model material. Taylor was even worse than Emily. But instead of fan-girling over the Celeians, he was all about preparing for the alien apocalypse, talking about stock-piling weapons and canned goods.