by Steven Oaks
In my excitement I threw everything I owned in boxes and loaded my car. I sold off as much as I could of my meager worldly possessions to get the funds for a journey. What I could not sell, I put into storage.
I had been let go from my job just after their arrival, though it was not much of a loss as I had not been making much anyway. I had to live in the smallest place I could find, which was not horrible for me. I only needed enough room for a bed and a place to use my computer. I did not even need a separate large monitor. I was able to afford a large screen HD television with my meager earnings. I made sure at the time of purchase I could connect my little laptop to it. I entertained myself with what I could stream from the Internet. That was good enough for me.
The small town I lived in really only had warehouse work. While soul-suckingly horrible, it did leave me plenty of time to think. The job was so loud I did not have to talk to anyone all day, save for those uncomfortable moments during breaks. I usually tried to take my breaks outside and was able to keep to myself. This allowed me to have limited contact with anyone. I do not hate people, I just prefer my own company. That is likely the reason I felt so thrilled by the idea of flying solo in my own spaceship.
I packed my old car with enough clothes and necessities to last me a month. In my crazed state of anticipation I drove to Plato, Missouri where the aliens had built their first hangar. I found out much later that it was the center most part of North America by population density. I think they may have gotten that wrong though. On my trip I did not see much of anything save the leaves that recently began falling to scatter across the many roads I traversed.
There were several other hangars built centrally to each continent. This one located in the United States would be responsible for the North American Region. I was glad they had done this as I did not feel like being responsible for a whole world’s dead populace. That amount would drive a person insane, and in my mind you would have to work all day just to keep up.
Leaving from my hometown it only took me about eight hours to get there. I would have arrived sooner, but I had to eat, and take the usual rest breaks. To be honest it was a fun trip for me. It was a beautiful drive as it was the beginning of fall. I kept my windows down for most of the trip. The air was sweet, cool, and fragrant with the tree’s just beginning to change. I have always loved fall weather, cool without being cold. The land, while dying, always looked wonderful when the leaves transformed into their various shades, giving the world more than the green summer showed.
I had my favorite music playing in the background. A strange mix shuffling from Classic Rock, to Electronic, and to Industrial which vibrated my little car as it flew down the road. I had always enjoyed a good long drive, and this was among my favorites at the time.
Having driven across country in my youth with my family, never alone, this trip stands out vividly in my mind. I hardly recall much of anything from my youthful excursions. This trip and the events following transformed my life from a regular blue collar worker to someone who could affect the lives of all people.
When I arrived in Fort Wood, Missouri I checked my phone to see when I would reach the hangar in Plato. Since there were no hotels near the hangar, I booked a room at the Fort Wood Inn and Suites. If I got the job, or not, I still needed a place to sleep, so I made this inn my base of operations. I checked in, dropped some bags off, and got ready to present myself for an interview.
I had put on my best suit with a plain black tie after I had a brief shower. I did not know how one would dress for this interview as they always tell you to dress one step up from what you would wear day to day on the job. Since I had limited data on that I decided the best course of action would be the standard suit.
My suit was one I had picked up at a thrift store. Luckily it was near enough my size that I felt I did not look too unprofessional. It was simply black. There were some stains on the inside but as long as I kept it buttoned up they did not show. The only suitable shoes I had were a pair of black boots. I felt I could hide the military style well enough under the pant legs. I polished them many times over the years, so they shone in the meager light from the one window that I opened up to air out the room.
I had pulled back my long, brown, wavy hair into a ponytail to look more competent, but it only made me look more like a hippie. My hair had always given me trouble, but it was too late to get it professionally done. I took one last look at myself in the mirror, locked the room, and continued on to Plato.
There was nothing in Plato, not even a gas station, if my phone was to be believed. I passed a few abandoned houses and farms but there did not seem to be any real life. Perhaps that was another deciding factor in putting the hangar there.
As I drove closer to my final destination, I was surprised to see a large hill in the distance. I call it a hill, but it shone like a metallic ball half buried in the ground leaving only a portion exposed to the elements. I checked online through my phone to find out what it was. Satellite photos did not show any man made structures in the area. These pictures had been taken only two weeks ago. It seemed I had finally reached the visitor’s hangar.
Everything looked brand new. There was no sign of construction or any further work to be done. The hangar itself seemed to go on for miles. It stood as tall as any building I had ever seen, and spanned off into the distance in such a way that I was never able to take it all in even from miles away. It was a metallic structure that shone as if it had been never been exposed to outside elements. I could not even see any rivet points and it all looked as though it was made of one huge sheet of metal bent into its current shape. I still had the feeling of a half submerged ball looking upon it. Growing closer I could see where wide doors extended for great distances around its foundation. They must be used to open and release whatever was housed inside. From seeing this enormous building I theorized these Outsiders had construction technology beyond ours and the ships that needed to be housed there must be enormous.
There was a grassy lawn surrounding a brick office building that stood next to the gleaming dome of metal. Everything else seemed either paved or left as it had been before the intrusion on the landscape. There was a small grove of trees to one side near a field of something freshly harvested, but nothing to show that any work had been recently done.
The road I was following lead into a massive black top paved parking area like you would find at an amusement park. I made my way into it finding a place to park amongst the crowded cars. I sat in my car taking a few deep breaths to gather myself. I was nervous but this is something I had driven hundreds of miles to do. After a few minutes passed I had built up enough courage to step outside with my resume in hand.
I could see a line growing from the office building. I made my way quickly toward its entrance. The building itself was a regular four story brick structure butted up against the hangar. I must have waited too long to show up because I had to walk a fair distance to even find the end of the line. Upon joining the queue I realized that many elderly people had arrived before me and were crowding up to be first.
I had thought there might be several people waiting, but I was amazed by the line that looped back and forth in front of the building several times. Some of the throng looked as if they were about to die and had a their family member to help them make the trip. There were a variety of canes, walkers, and even wheel chairs in that line. Instead of an interview line it felt more like a waiting room in a doctor’s office, save we were outside. Sure there were a few young people like myself scattered throughout, but the majority seemed to be in the late stages of their lives.
Luckily for all of us it was a pleasant autumn day and the sun did not shine brightly enough to cause anyone distress. I worried when I first saw this line that I might sweat through my suit but that seemed to be a worry for a hotter day. While the sun did cause the air to warm, it was a pleasant warmth, and the autumn breeze would cool me off before I felt hot enough to remove my suit jacket.
One fellow in line was so hunched over his cane that when he began coughing I felt sure he would fall and break a hip. Had that happened I was sure he would insist on staying. He had the most determined look on anyoneâs face I had ever seen. He made it through by holding on to the wall as he was approaching the door that lead inside. Many others had similar expressions, though there were a few who looked as if this was their last hope. Those with that look seemed ready to give up, and if they did not make the cut would just wither away and drift off in the breeze.
Everyone was dressed in their finest attire. Most wore suits and ties, like myself, and had their hair made up to impress better than I managed. Some spent the wait shining their shoes. A few women chose to wear dresses or business skirts, but it made them look out of place. A majority of people those days wore suits to interviews regardless of gender or age due to biases they had dealt with since birth.
I stuck out as well. I with the idea that I might not ever have to age, was lined up with these people who were well into their autumn and winter years. All looked at me as though I did not belong. Though there were younger people there I was definitely the youngest. I am sure they saw me as a threat to their chances. I knew what I wanted, I wanted to learn. I wanted to live long enough to fill my mind with more ideas than anyone else ever had. That is one reason I am still here to tell you this tale.
After waiting for several hours I was tired. We all got into a rhythm of slow shuffling and scooting down the line, closer and closer to the door. Fortunately as you reached the head of the line entering the office building seats were available. As one person left to be interviewed another chair was free for the next person.
Anticipating boredom I made sure to keep music on my phone. I just popped my headphones in for an extended period of music and podcasts. There was even Wi-Fi so when I got bored with my own music I was able to stream one of my favorite Internet radio stations until it was my turn. I did not think of even starting a conversation with anyone. I already felt out of place, and my awkwardness with strangers would have just made me more nervous.
The three Outsiders, as they came to be known, did not interview me themselves. They had contracted a firm to handle the hiring process. They had been given a list of requirements and traits to follow. We did not known how long they had watched us before their first communication, but it must have been enough to give them the ability to assess us accurately, at least by their standards.
When it was finally my turn I was lead into a small office at the end of the hall. Everyone had been shuffled off into their own private room by an interviewer. I had been diligent enough to take out my headphones for fear I might miss my turn. I had tried to eavesdrop on my predecessors but the doors were either soundproof or the babble surrounding me drowned out anything audible.
When I was called forth to start my interview I was greeted by a tall man with not a single strand of hair on his head. He was dressed in a dark suit similar to mine save it was cut to make his shoulders appear wider, and his waist to look slim. Beneath the suit jacket he wore a blue silk tie with a gold tie clip bearing a single sparkling green gem. Through his slim black glasses I could see his green eyes shining.
I stood in the door holding my resume. He reached to shake my hand as another person took my resume. âHello, my name is Adam, and this is John. Please have a seat and we shall begin,â he said in a deep voice gesturing to the other man who had taken my resume.
The man named John was also wearing a black suit paired with a plain red tie. He had dark black hair that he had slicked back. You could see his hair was thinning as the sunlight trickled in from the blinds causing the exposed parts of his scalp to shine brightly. He probably started slicking it back to cover a bald spot, but it had not been completely successful. Since this was the only time I saw him that is all I recall.
I took a seat and Adam sat down beside John behind a wide, dark wood desk. I took this opportunity to look more closely at Adam. He had a kind, fatherly expression, and a look in his eye as if he wanted to teach you an important lesson. Somehow I could sense an underlying emotion of disappointment that I did not understand. He was tall and very well toned. He seemed both older and younger and I could not place his age. I could not tell if his baldness was by choice or due to shaving, but the rest of his cheeks were as devoid of hair and looked very well groomed. I thought he must have shaved right before he started interviewing as I could not even see a follicle of hair growing.
Adam picked up my resume and read through it quickly. I watched his face but it betrayed neither pleasure nor disappointment. Finally he set it on the desk before him and took off his glasses to place them on the desk beside it. His green eyes were far more intense bare, and they shone in the daylight that crept into the room.
âAlright Micheal, we will now be asking you a series of questions. I need you to be as honest as you can be. Any falsehoods we detect will cause an immediate disqualification for this position. We need to be able to trust you. Also it is for you own benefit that you tell us the truth as this positions can be hard on those not well suited to it,â Adam said in a tone of voice that hinted at anger, and his face grew grim.
âOf course I will answer honestly. Lies only lead to confusion after all,â I said in a more timid voice than I had planned.
âVery good. Let us get started shall we?â he said.
The interview process was similar to many others I had been through. The questions ranged from what I enjoyed most in school, to what I hoped to achieve working with the Outsiders. As the interviewers asked me questions and I responded, the two kept looking at each other. I did not know what was expected of me or what answers they wanted to hear. So as instructed I answered honestly. I had said something along the lines of just wanting to live long enough to know what living was. That had provoked the longest stare between the two.
They also asked about my personal life. They had my address down, but they wanted to know what my living arrangements were. They also wanted to know where and how I spent my free time. I advised them I lived alone and usually I just read during any off time. They wanted to know who I knew, if I had close relatives, and how often I would see my friends. I said the only interaction I had with people was when I went to work or when I needed to go shopping. I always preferred my own company to that of my fellow person and being alone really did not seem to bother me. I did not even keep any pets. I had ways of keeping myself entertained and if I should feel the urge to talk to someone I could wait until the next work day. In essence, I was an anti-social shut-in with no friends or family that only leaves the house because I am forced to work to get money for surviving and to finance my entertainment. At this another significant glance was exchanged.
Once finished with their questions, I still had a written exam to complete. They observed me with judgmental eyes that made me even more nervous. They must have wanted to watch my reactions to decide if I was writing my genuine feelings or trying to give them what I felt they wanted. I scribbled away, taking only a few moments to collect my thoughts for the exam as they sat there watching me. I ran through everything quickly once more before turning my answers over to my overseers.
What followed was a short âyes and noâ quiz. The first question had said something about flipping a tortoise on its back in a desert and how that would make me feel. I was to answer yes or no to a list of emotions. I checked no to happy, and yes to sad. The other emotions they listed seemed out of place so I put no to those. To be honest, at the time, all the questions seemed rather esoteric.
After it was all over, they shook my hand and said they would let me know within the week if I were to be one of the candidates. I took this to mean that I should look elsewhere, not that there was anything offered like this anywhere else. I tried to look on the bright side, at least I had put forth the effort. Even if I failed I gave it my best, but I did not lose hope. I drove myself back to my hotel room, and waited to see if they would cal
l me. I felt making the trip back to Indiana would be pointless as I had already sold most of my possessions. So I just lived off my meager savings for the rest of the week in my dismal little room.
Surprisingly it seems I had what they were looking for. By the end of the week they called me and wanted me to go through a physical. I agreed without hesitation. This was my reason for being here anyway.
If I passed, I would be given use of one of the first crafts engineered for human pilots. They wanted to make sure I could handle any external anomalies that might occur during flight. They were confident they could train me but wanted to make sure my body could handle any stresses.
They asked me to dress comfortably. I looked through the clothing I brought and pulled out my least ratty looking jeans. I chose a black three-quarter tee-shirt I used when the weather was just getting cool, and wore a hoodie over it. I was not sure at what temperature I would be tested, but felt I could pull on or off the hoodie if it merited.
When I arrived at the hangar the parking lot was empty save a few cars near the office building. I walked in and was guided to an elevator that brought me and a guide far underground. I was so thrilled by the prospect of being a space pilot I only dimly remember white halls that lead into expansive rooms full of contraptions that I would be tested on.
They started with an endurance run, all the while checking my blood oxygen levels and how my blood pressure reacted. I was quite exhausted when they decided to put me in their centrifuge machine, much like astronaut training. Then they had me remain underwater in a deep pool to see how long I could hold my breath while swimming. After which I got to wear an alien-crafted space suit for the first time. It was white like our own astronauts suits but more of a thin fabric I could easily slip over my clothes. It had just a clear bubble for a helmet and no visible controls or oxygen supply. I was kept in that pool for at least an hour to test the suit and to make sure I was not claustrophobic. In the end, I passed. So far my body could handle anything they threw at me.