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    The Strangers
    The Strangers
    The Strangers
    Ebook152 pages1 hour

    The Strangers

    By E. M. Haeger

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    About this ebook

    They came in the night, appearing in Earth's atmosphere out of the blackness of the void.

    They're eager to begin peaceful negotiations, but what do we really know about this alien race?

    Members of the second envoy are about to find out.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherE. M. Haeger
    Release dateOct 10, 2017
    ISBN9781370577064
    The Strangers
    Author

    E. M. Haeger

    Since she couldn't train to be a Jedi Knight in real life, Eily writes stories about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, friendly aliens, evil overlords, and everything in between. When she's not hard at work on her next project, you can find her searching for more great reads or binging on the best new Sci-Fi shows. Check out more of her work here: writervice.wordpress.com

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      Book preview

      The Strangers - E. M. Haeger

      Copyright © 2017 E.M. Haeger

      The Strangers

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      For you, for giving this story a chance.

      Let every eye negotiate for itself and trust no agent.

      -William Shakespeare

      MARS

      When the Etrallia came to Earth, they didn't come one by one. They came all at once and waving a white flag. Or at least, that's how we interpreted it.

      In reality, it was a radio signal that scrambled our broadcasts, interrupting all communication with the orbiting space stations. It might have been threatening except that the intent was clear:

      We come in peace. So, don't shoot us out of the sky.

      It took us a while to crack that one. And you can bet the U.S. military was ready to do exactly that. For all intents and purposes, we were at war, half a dozen governments prepared to defend against these strangers who dared invade our airspace. It was the most remarkable global initiative I'd seen in years.

      Thankfully, we had intelligence on our side, the world's top cryptography experts and linguistic pros working round the clock. Turns out the signal was some form of military cipher, not unlike our Morse code. Eventually, our guys worked out a pattern to the madness, not that I could tell you how.

      When they arrived, I was busy testing soil samples, Lena Cordell was tending to patients in the ICU, and Charles Rhine was firing on combatants in the East Indian War. 

      She was a doctor, but no ordinary civilian. I was a scientist, but no diplomat. And Rhine, well, he was a military man and the furthest thing from a savior. 

      Still, we ended up on that shuttle. Some call it fate, but I only believe in chance. Probabilities. That's all it really came down to. 

      My whole life people joked that with a name like mine, I was destined to be an astronaut. Ironic, then, that I had never been to space the day they put me on that damn ship.

      Lena was the least prepared of all. Her eagerness to make contact made up for it, though. Even the Major was on edge during the ride, but the doctor was as calm as a rock in a gale. Years of practice, I suppose.

      So that's how Lena Cordell ended up in the second envoy. And thank God she did. 

      Because now she was the only thing standing between us and total annihilation.

      The Etrallian had his hand on the big red button.

      Yes, that button.

      Granted, it wasn't red, it was gray, but you get the picture. If he pushed it, we'd all be dead. Asphyxiated in the cold darkness of space.

      I forced in a lungful of air and held tight. Half the military we'd come aboard with were sitting pretty in the airlock beside us. A lot of good they'd done.

      Lena was still pleading with the Etrallian. She begged him not to do it, to reconsider, to think of the future. The other Etrallians watched mutely.

      We were already dead and Lena was the only one who didn't seem to know it yet.

      He opened his mouth. I'm sorry.

      Or at least I imagined that's what he said. I reached for my ear and realized my comm device was missing. The cadence of the alien words washed over me in a throaty purr.

      His claw settled over the button.

      My heart hammered madly against my ribcage.

      Lena made a sound, muttered something unintelligible. I hoped it was enough to make him understand. I hoped there was still some semblance of humanity left in this person--this Etrallian. He may have been our friend once, but I knew what I was asking.

      I was asking for a goddamn miracle.

      1

      Invitation

      LENA

      I eased Mr. Reynolds gently back into the wheelchair and turned to look for my partner. Someone screamed in the distance. I could only hope Chuck was already headed in that direction. To block out the sound, I concentrated on moving the wheels along the dusty road, on the sun beating down upon my back.

      Never thought I'd start to miss those IVs. Reynolds chuckled. I'd carry one of those poles around with me any day.

      Grunting, I navigated the chair around a pothole. And you'd get mugged for your trouble. The image came all too readily. A body in an alley, skull cracked open like an egg.

      Reynolds laughed, deep and gravelly. Suppose you're right. No water for the weary. We'll be the first to go, you know. The old folk and the children. He coughed, clearing his lungs of dust. Just look at history. In times of plague and famine, the weak and the frail always die first.

      I could think of at least one instance where that wasn't true. The Dust Bowl of the 1930's had taken the lives of thousands of men, women, and children alike.

      I forced a smile. Not if I can help it.

      I wasn't sure what I had expected from an old man forced to leave his home. A shred of gratitude would have been nice, but these were rough people. Tough. They lived off the land as surely as their ancestors had, making do with what they had.

      If you don't mind my asking, why'd you wait so long? The desert's no place for a rancher, even an experienced one.

      Reynolds leaned to spit onto the dry, cracked earth. Wasn't always a desert, girl. When the lake dried up, we thought it was a drought. The worst we'd had in years, but a drought all the same.

      You thought you'd wait it out?

      The man squinted, his weather-lined face assessing me. You live here, you get used to seasons with little water.

      The wheelchair bumped over a rock in our path.

      But when we couldn't drink no more—when there was no water to be found—that's when we realized. It weren't going to get better anytime soon.

      I see.

      Nah. Reynolds grinned at the sky as he shook his head. You don't see, girl. You don't know what it used to be like, this land. It was my mama's and before that my granddaddy owned the place. The Reynolds' been here at least a century. It's home.

      He'd expected to die on this land, same as his mother. It made sense in a desperate sort of way. That was why he and so many others had ignored the warnings and refused to evacuate. He was lucky we'd come for him. At the same time, he was unlucky. With no home and no strength to start over, he'd likely live out his days in the medical center.

      How much further? Reynolds grumbled. Do you intend to bake me alive?

      We're nearly there, I assured him.

      The medical center was a bustle of activity in the middle of an otherwise silent desert.

      But Reynolds was right.

      Southern California used to be quite pleasant, home to lemon groves and orange trees, cafes and warm sea breezes. Now it was as barren as New Mexico, half its cities burnt to ash, or worse, full of struggling natives who refused to live elsewhere.

      The automatic doors slid open with a hiss, ushering us into an air-conditioned oasis. The clean tile floor and straight angle of the hallway contrasted with the dusty, rutted road outside. The doors slid shut and I inhaled deeply, grateful for the cool, clean air. The wheelchair rolled forward with minimal effort and I steered it toward the nearest elevator.

      We passed the emergency care facility where the shouts of doctors rang out above the commotion. The urgent beeping of machines faded with a whoosh and Reynolds was silent as I jabbed the button for the fourth floor.

      The elevator groaned and jolted upward.

      I ain't dying, he mumbled.

      No, I conceded. Not yet anyway. But you're dehydrated.

      Upstairs, a group of nurses stood clustered under the TV, gawking like a bunch of school children as a reporter gestured to an object in the sky. I tightened my grip on the wheelchair and steered my newest patient toward the west wing.

      What're they watching? Reynolds eyed them suspiciously. Don't they know there's people dying out there?

      I continued to stride purposefully down the hall. It's nothing, I told him placidly. Probably just a hoax. Besides, they say the government's dealing with it.

      Reynolds craned his neck. What?

      Alien spacecraft apparently. Been there for weeks.

      Huh. He looked as if he was trying to decide whether I was playing with him or not. Satisfied with what he saw, he threw one last glance toward the nurses. He shook his head and shrugged, as if in defeat. This planet's going to hell. Don't matter much if some alien buggers want it.

      Quickly, I rounded the corner. The others could stand around gaping all day as long as no patient lives were at risk, but I would do what I had come here to do.

      "Here we are, Mr.

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