Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

We are all going to die.

So, imagine you are me, Ernest Chesterwitz III, recently retired screenwriter who has reached brilliant success, if I do say so myself.

 After working in the show business for the past 6 decades, ever since I was a young lad at 14 who just picked up a camera and dreamed and willed things to being, I have finally decided to spend my remaining years with my wife Jocelyn and my three children and seven grandchildren in our fine house in LA (Secret: buy properties while they're cheap, and spruce 'em up a bit on rebate while living on crackers and jam alone--what do you mean even that's expensive? Do you know how dirt cheap it is to make jam with your own bare hands?).

Anyway, I was laying in my pool while listening to my trans son complain about how there is one couple owning about 60% of California's water and how it is contributing to the wildfire crisis as of late (and as I have been caught under their orange skies and the sickly sweet smell of their smoke many times before, I can't say it is a problem I am immune from).

So, there I was, listening intently, trying to hide a smile of glee as Andy (his chosen name, which is a little ordinary if you ask me, but whatever gives him joy) plans and schemes nefariously brilliant ways to make our mayor and governor listen to our shared concerns for our public water, when I heard this odd, whirring noise from the sky.

I looked up, and saw, and this is honest-to-God the truth, this giant, hovering aircraft with blue flames spitting out of its engines as it descended towards my property. It reminded me of these dystopia movies my granddaughter Elsa loved watching so much. The one where the kids killed each other for bread and sport.

I could hear Andy screaming for me in the background, but I felt absolutely frozen in my spot, on some floatie my twin daughters Susannah and Eleanora bought for me just two weeks before. I was like a mouse in those horrible glue traps, unable to get away.

Then, some bright light enveloped me, and all went quiet.

I thought it was the end. I honest-to-God did. I felt myself floating up. I was shouting for Andy, for my twin girls, for Jocelyn, for God, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, and all the saints and apostles I could think of to stop this. To bring me back to earth. To give me more time. An hour or two. Just enough to tell my family I love them. That they were the stars that filled my blackest skies. They were the heroes and epicenters of every story I crafted. That out of all the films and TV shows I could watch for the rest of my life, it would be to simply watch them grow up, fall and rise up again, and live onwards in change and in love, a thousand times over. That nothing brought me more drama, more tears, and more belly laughs and great stories than they did.

I was saying--well, shouting--all of this as I entered this white expanse of the unknown, ready to meet God himself and all his freakish angels of many eyes and wings to fight like hell for another day.

What I actually met, was even weirder than that.

Chapter Text

"Hello, sir. Are you alright?"

I awoke to some girl with green eyes looking over me, her black hair dangling from her shoulders. She reminded me of Eleanora when she was in high school. The way she would dye her golden curly hair black back then would drive Jocelyn crazy, wondering why on earth anyone would volunteer to look like a phantom straight from a horror movie (a bit harsh for a teenager experimenting with cheap off some hole-in-the-wall store, which was my bigger concern). But unlike my daughter's hair, this girl's raven locks seemed to be "au-naturale".

But never mind her, my mind screamed. Where is my family?

I looked around, hoping that what I went through was a nightmare. Only for my eyes to see unfamiliar faces of people wandering about a sterile white room that showed one huge window of the perpetually twilight expanse of space outside. Everyone here varied widely in every element you could think of: height, skin color, eye color, hair type and hairstyle, makeup or no makeup, gender, fashion, etc. No one seemed to wear anything much in common. We must have looked like either the world's most confused and uncoordinated costume party.

And no one's having any fun at all.

"What's going on?" I asked the girl.

"Not sure," she replied, and I could hear a subtle Portuguese lilt in her voice. "I was hungry for some pateis de nata on my way to my apartment in Porto where I have been staying with my friend for the past six months. The city was full of steep hills, and I was just about to reach the summit to the nearby bakery, when people noticed this huge glowing spaceship emerge from the night. Before I knew it, a flash of white had enveloped me, and now I'm here."

"Yeah, wicked innit?!" Some British voice called out, and I saw this hulking mass of a rugby player, covered almost completely head to toe in mud that figuring out what team he played for was impossible. "I was out of town, car sharing with my uni mates practically hollering along to some Ed Sheeran song when that spaceship appeared. I went out to have a look, and it just went towards me, and I ran as fast I could, even covering mesself in mud to hide from them UFOs. But they caught me, swallowed me in up in blinding light, like a Keane song, and I ended up here."

Oh Jesus fuck--, I had realized. None of that damned shit was a dream.

Soon, I heard someone speaking rapidly in Spanish, and I turned around to see some wheat-haired guy in his thirties wearing a dust-covered shirt and slacks and Oxfords, talking to a nun, who was listening attentively, and replying softly in the same language.

Nearby, a really tall bearded olive-skinned guy in a dark teal thobe kept pacing near the window, panic growing in his features as he watched the Earth getting smaller and smaller. He kept muttering to himself in Arabic, steadily growing louder and louder. I could almost, and this might be slight delusion on my part, translate his words to, "This can't be happening! This can't be happening!"

Quite frankly, I didn't blame him.

On the other side of the room, a mother and daughter with dark skin and curly hair speak quietly and anxiously to one another in Creole French. The daughter wore a purple gauzy skirt over a black leotard, a purple scrunchie on her wrist, and some dark brown ribboned shoes that almost blended entirely into her calves. It took me too long for me to realize that she's a ballet dancer.

And a very anxious one as well.

"I was trying to protect you, Mama!" The daughter suddenly burst in that New Orleans accented English. "You were being swallowed up by that bright light--"

"You should have stayed behind, Auralie!" The mother scolded her. "Now, we're stuck in this godforsaken spaceship, and you're going to miss your Giselle performance! Is that what you wanted?"

Auralie huffed, and the two went back to arguing in French.

And throughout the space, a Filipino dad sporting a goatee is chasing after his two racing small children in their school uniform: a little girl with a messy ponytail and a white shirt with a Peter Pan collar under a navy blue pinafore and a new pair of Mary Janes, and a boy wearing a white polo shirt, a gray woolen vest with the school crest on it, and navy blue slacks and dress shoes.

I blocked the kids' path to stop the ruckus and made scary faces to make them run the other way--just like I used to when my kids were small, and when they had kids as well. It worked like a charm, and I chuckled as they ran to their father for comfort. The guy looked absolutely relieved when he finally caught up to them, and wasted no time telling them off in Tagalog not to run around like that, or else they'll run into someone scary. After the kids were disciplined, he turned to me.

"Thank you so much, sir," he said in a quite decent New Zealander accent. "I was getting so tired chasing Jennie and Billy around. I don't think they truly know what's going on. "

"I don't think anyone here does." I assured him.

"We're in a spaceship!" Jennie exclaimed gleefully, jumping as high as she could, and again, I'm reminded of my own kids when they were her age. Susannah especially was vivacious and energetic, convinced she was the fastest girl in the world. She outran almost every boy in the neighborhood to prove it.

I have to get back to them. I thought.

"Dad," Billy asked. "If we're in a spaceship, do you think there's aliens in it?"

"That's might be possible." A voice answered, and I jolted out of my skin when I saw the green-eyed girl standing behind me, her face scrunched up in thought, her hand sitting just below her chin. "Based on the design and technology of this spacecraft, whoever's piloting the ship has ingenuity and intelligence, on par with a human's. The space alone suggests there must be more than one flying this whole spacecraft. They must have at least some awareness of existence of other life forms, otherwise it would not have gone to Earth and kidnapped all of us. But the fact they went after us specifically, does imply that they know about us in particular. But whoever they are, they must have picked us for a reason, even though the selection appears random--"

"Well, whoever they are," the mother interrupted. "They seem to have no respect nor regard for other people's time or agendas. None of us want to be here!"

The man in the thobe nodded vigorously. "That's true! I was supposed to have my evening tea at my house with my wife!"

"Ballet performance at my daughter's school!"

"A piano recital at my son's school." The Filipino dad put in.

"Withdrawing money for a pilgrimage." The nun said.

"Readying my students for an excavation in an ancient temple." The wheat-haired guy added, in English this time, with a Texan accent.

Is that even safe? I almost said. But it was my turn, and I said, "Spending my retirement with my family."

"Drinks with my mates." The rugby player said. "I was finally going to ask the sexy enby of my dreams out for their number."

"I was going to do something similar," the green-eyed girl said. "Write a love letter to a boy I really like, after having some pateis de nata in my system. He was the one who introduced me to them."

"Damn," Auralie commented, hand over her heart. "I feel so sorry for you..." She trailed off, and then asked. "What are your names?"

"Casey," the green-eyed girl responded.

"Tommy," the rugby player answered.

"Auralie," the ballerina said.

"Isabel," her mother said. "We're from New Orleans."

"Mohamed, mathematician from the city of Istanbul." the guy in the thobe added.

"Professor Henry from Dallas, Texas, Doctor of Archaeology," the wheat-haired guy said.

"Sister Ana of the Order of Saint Clare, originally from Mexico." Said the nun.

"Jennie! We're from the Philippines!"

"Billy! We live in Wellington, New Zealand now!"

"Kids!" The dad shushed them, and then added, "Uh, Alberto, software engineer, dad of two."

"And Ernest Chesterwitz III, retired movie director and screenwriter from New York, then LA." I said, wanting to save the best for the last. "You probably have heard of me."

"I think I have..." Isabel murmured.

But Sister Ana, Professor Henry, Mohamed, and Alberto were all shaking their heads. "Sorry," Alberto said. "I haven't."

Suddenly, the white wall opposite of the window opened and you wouldn't believe it what I saw: an actual duo of small, green aliens with antennas for eyes, and huge crooked mouths. One of them held a device up and when it spoke, despite it speaking a strange language, everyone understood its every word:

"We are the wandering space people of Izi'meel'ziordum from the star cluster at the eastern side of what you call Alpha Centauri. And we are here to eat you all."

Chapter Text

What?

I'd swear that was the thought running through everybody's head. As we all processed what those small green aliens just told us.

They're going to eat us all. That's why we're here.

I looked at these alien life forms. Their weird yellow eyes. Their slimy green bodies. Their open, drooling mouths with their tongues lolling out, like they couldn't wait until they had a slice of each of us.

Jennie and Billy hid their faces and burrowed themselves in Alberto's arms. His eyes burned with a kind of rage and protectiveness only parents could truly understand. I saw Isabel doing the same with Auralie, who started crying the minute she found out that instead of death via fatal heartbreak, this version of Giselle was sentenced to death via alien consumption.

Sister Ana started praying. So did Mohamed, whose prayers sound like songs.

But Professor Henry, Alberto, Isabel, Tommy, Casey, and I shared a look on our faces. Now, I don't know what religions these people may or may not follow (there's a non-zero chance that at least two of us are Catholic at the very least), but we seemed to understand that at this moment, no one's coming to save us. No calvary screaming for death from a fantasy kingdom; no Jedi Knight from Tatooine or Australia as far as anyone's concerned; no army or police force, real or imagined, was getting on a similar spaceship to bring us home.

It's just us random humans in this messed up costume party, eleven in total (well, 8 if you leave the kiddos out of this intergalactic skirmish on the rise), against two green aliens from some backwater star cluster in Alpha Centauri who think they can steal us from our lives for their pleasure.

Well, I thought as I cracked my knuckles--arthritis be respectfully damned--and readied my stance for a good fight. It's been a while since I fought someone (Fun fact: I played Macbeth in college, and my favorite lines were "Ring the alarum bells!" and "They have tied me to a stake, I cannot fly,/But bearlike I must fight the course"). 

And bearlike we shall. I smirked as I finally realized why Andy, my Internet aficionado, liked to call humans "space orcs" from time to time.

Suddenly, a third alien burst in, in a state of distress, waving its wimpy arms towards their comrades. It started screaming at them in their alien language, but due to them being near their translator, everyone picked up on what they are saying.

"We can't consume this tall-legged species!" the alien wailed. "We just can't!"

"Why not?" One of first two aliens asked. "They have the fats and proteins and vitamins we might need to make the trip to Jupiter. I've always wanted to visit the Red Storm and practice the dark arts within its piercing, neverending gales of pure, flying diamonds!"

At least that's what I heard from that guy. The translation device must have been a bit buggy today. Or my normally sharp and shrewd ears have finally stopped working in this vacuum of space. Mohamed, Tommy, and Casey looked just as bewildered as I felt.

"You delusional bag of moondust!" The other one of the alien pair responded. "You would be ripped to shreds by those same accursed diamonds before you would even utter one word of your so-called magic! The only reason I'm going to Jupiter after feasting on these tasty humans is to piss off the edge of the spaceship into its atmosphere!"

"Why?" The first alien asked. "That planet is off-limits and considered sacred by several interplanetary civilizations!"

The second alien shrugged. "Hence why I follow no star or give heed to fanciful musings of collective sand-huggers! I have a habit of experimenting in the big, wide universe, just to see what happens! And you better have a visual-audio recording of me doing it too! This one's going to the memory-records, all for my countless concubines and their maggot-children to read!"

Oh...I definitely, and unfortunately, heard all of that. And judging by Alberto covering his children's ears as best he could with two hands, his face as red as a tomato, so did he. Auralie and Mohamed looked ready to throw up. Isabel and Sister Ana, however, looked ready to kill the second alien if God or the universe compelled them to.

"Please hear me out, you two!" The third alien interrupted, probably the only sane one driving this spaceship. "I've been getting readings for the past hour on their cognitive activities! Especially their capacities for collective alignments and rational calculations! And based on this random sample alone, despite its too miniscule size to reach Izi'meel'ziordum's basic standards of academic rigor towards Universal Enlightenment to truly say anything about the species who call themselves 'homo sapiens' or 'humans' or more puzzlingly, whatever 'space orcs' means, and the fact that their intergalactic technology for space travel is infantile and rudimentary at best, and ones for intergalactic communication practically non-existent as their reliance on the Universal translator has revealed, just as I hypothesized--"

"Just get to the bloody point, you rambling comet!" The first alien protested. "You're worse than my advisor's simpering bastard son trying to curry favor from the frosty daughter of my royal financier's seventeenth wife!"

"What the fuck?" I heard Tommy and Auralie murmur from behind. I couldn't blame them. My brain also felt like it just crashed from overprocessing weird shit from this alien alone.

But Professor Henry looked oddly amused and wistful. "Reminds me of the old days back when I was defending my thesis and sucking up to professors at Cambridge. God, I was a jerk with an overinflated ego."

"Come on," the second alien demanded, still eying us all like a wolf would to a flock of sheep. "What are you saying?! I can't eat these tasty humans?"

At that moment, I, and ten other people, leaned in closer to hear the answer. To be honest, during half the time of their entire conversation, I was worried that I lost my marbles for good this time, and my poor Jocelyn would have to carry my cracked self to a padded cell.

Finally, after 5 seconds of anticipatory silence, the third alien answered with the cadence of the noble academe recognized everywhere: "There is a probability to be considered that this species may have more than adequate levels of emotional-social-logical intelligence, equal to any alien. Basically, they might be too intelligent and communicative for them to be our food! And if they are, the moral laws of Izi'meel'ziordum state that we are forbidden from consuming anything that is capable of being highly logical and cooperative!"

"Basically," Professor Henry translated. "We might be far too smart and cooperative with each other to be considered edible by these aliens."

Oh...I thought to myself. What a relief!

The others must have felt this too, based on our collective exhales that echoed throughout the spaceship.

Maybe except Isabel, who put her hands on her hips, eyelid twitching, as she asked. "So, are we going to be sent back to Earth then? My daughter's performance begins in three hours! And I am not wasting another second begging for our lives in front of such vulgar and hedonistic company!"

"My sentiments exactly!" Mohamed said, his face warped in anger. "I have heard enough from all of you. I want to go home to my wife!"

"My love!" Tommy and Casey protested.

"My retirement!" I screamed.

"And stay away from me and my children, you deranged lunatics!" Alberto yelled, raising his fist.

The third alien cowered and hid behind the doorway it came in through. But the two aliens in front of us seemed completely unaffected to the onslaught of protests and rightfully belligerent verbiage we have cast towards them. Instead, the second alien took out what looked like an alarm bell attached to a pistol and aimed the bead at us.

"Look out!" Tommy cried out. Casey flung her arms over her head.

Lasers shot out in all directions, encasing us all in a huge ball of pure electricity. Then, we found ourselves lifted from the floor to the ceiling, shrieking all the while. I think Jennie peed herself during all this, poor little dear.

Eleanora used to do the same thing when she was scared at her age. I thought.

"SILENCE!!" the first alien commanded.

"Why?!" Casey called out. "It makes sense that we're terrified! You basically plan to eat us! What is it with authority figures and their deliberate inability to understand the actions of the people they rule over?!"

"Basically it's a form of gaining legitimacy for their rule in the first place," Professor Henry explained, his voice calm despite everything going on, still passing knowledge to his students. "Authoritarian figures tend to cast their rebels as insane rabble-rousers and insurgents in order to make themselves the heroes of their state-sanctioned puppet shows."

"Damn right they do!" I concurred. "Human and alien ones alike, it seems!"

Sister Ana, Mohamed, Auralie, and Alberto also nodded in terse agreement.

"We are going to give you all a test." the second alien explained to us. "It is to see if you qualify as logical and cooperative according to the laws and standards of Izi'meel'ziordum."

"Once we set you down," the first alien went on. "You will be lined up in single file, from largest to smallest, so you can see everyone in front of you. We are then going to put hats on each of you. The hats' colors will be black or white, and they will be placed in no particular order. We won't ever tell you how many of each we have on the plane."

"Each of you, from the back to the front, must guess which one your hat is, saying either 'black' or 'white'." the third alien continued. "You can't say anything other than these terms, or use any kind of coding for your fellow humans, or you will all be eaten right after you do. Even intonation and volume changes are not allowed as a form of coding. You will all be eaten immediately if you try. And if you step out of line, look behind you, or take off your hat to check for sure, you will also be eaten immediately."

"You are only allowed one wrong guess as a collective whole." the first alien added. "But if at least ten of you guess correctly, you will be sent back to your home planet and left alone."

All of us stared back at these aliens, unable to speak. We were taking in each translated word from them, and in the course of twenty seconds, we begin to fully register and understand what we are being asked to do, and all the stakes at risk if we did not comply.

I, personally, have my doubts on whether or not we can pass whatever test they are making us do. I've met more than my fair share of idiots in my long lifetime, especially ones who bullied Andy for his identity.

But I can't say that out loud. Not in front of the mostly young crowd, with full lives ahead of them to pursue. And not in front of Mohamed, who only wanted to spend time with his family almost exactly like I do.

We have to pass. We have to succeed the aliens' test, or none of us were ever going to see our homes or families again.

The second alien grinned, finding this all satisfactory, and then said, "You have five minutes to discuss and come up with a plan. Then I'll line you up, assign your hats, and then we'll begin."

They dropped us unceremoniously on the floor, and left, cackling in glee as the doors shut behind them.

We all seemed to take one shaky inhale of silence, then explode into pure emotional chaos.

Everyone started screaming and crying. People started banging at the windows and walls for some kind of escape. Eventually, some arguing and fighting ensued, which dashed my hopes of success almost beyond saving.

That's it. I thought. We are all going to die.

I'm never going to see my wife and children ever again.

Suddenly, in the midst of all this pandemonium, one bright clarion voice surfaced barely above the worsening din and uproar, howling, "I HAVE A PLAN!!! LISTEN TO ME, I KNOW HOW TO SAVE OUR LIVES!!!!"

I turned behind me and saw Casey shouting at us from the top of her lungs.

I seem to be the only one who heard her.

She looked at me, her green eyes wide and desperate. Help me please, she mouthed.

Now, I don't have any idea what the girl has in mind, but I knew at that moment that I can't dismiss or ignore her. But honestly, I was ready to take any idea anyone could have at this point that isn't rage-fueled mass suicide.

So, I channeled all my years as a Hollywood film director and screenwriter who has faced decades of situations that seemed FUBAR, and in the lowest, angriest voice I can summon from within me, bellowed "QUIET ON SET!!!!!"

Just as I had hoped, the entire uncoordinated costume party became silent and still, facing me in varying degrees of fear and frustration and agony.

I jerked my thumb towards Casey. "This girl here knows how we can get out! Either listen to her or we all die! Take your pick!"

And naturally, none of us wanted to die.

So, we listened to her plan.

Chapter Text

Too soon, five minutes were up, and the aliens returned.

"We have the hats," the second alien announced. "Let's begin!"

"I hope this works," Tommy murmured to himself.

"Me too," said Auralie, retying her bun with her scrunchie. Her mother, Isabel, hurried her daughter over to the spot of the line in front of her. There, Auralie stood with her head high, her game face masking any stress she must be feeling, her back straight, one foot in front of the other, and her arms lifted just so, as if she was wearing a typical wide pink tutu, trying not to crush the imaginary, delicate fabric. 

"It's all gonna be okay," I heard Alberto whisper to Jennie and Billy, who seemed so confident about the plan a few minutes ago before the aliens came back. Now, Jennie's shaking with anxiety, and Billy seems unable to let go of their father.

"I don't wanna leave you," Billy said, burying his face in Alberto's leg.

"I'll keep an eye on you," Alberto reassured. "I promise, nothing will happen to you as long as you remember what to do. Okay?"

Billy still looked absolutely scared, no better than his sister. But he took Jennie's hand and nodded. Together, the little siblings looked braver than any of them did alone.

I looked away before crying. They reminded me too much of my own kids. The way Susannah and Eleanora looked after Andy while they walked to and from school like security guards so that they would all go home safely. And the way Andy returned the favor by driving them home from dive bars that were too seedy and scummy for them to be in alone. The way Susannah would hold Eleanora's hand before her trials as an attorney. And how Eleanora and Andy would always attend Susannah's track meets in high school, surrounded by college scouts; one of whom would become her alma mater, Stanford.

I need to get home to them. I thought. I need to get home to them.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Mohamed, looking at me with an understanding gaze.

No words were spoken, but I heard them anyway.

"Yeah," I said, shaking myself as I prepared for the upcoming test of my life (God, I sound like my kids when they were in high school). "Let's do this."

Professor Henry and Sister Ana were also having what seemed to be a similar conversation. Then, I saw Sister Ana give him a rosary with wooden beads.

"Rely on God on what happens." she said. "The rest is up to you."

"Gracias," Professor Henry said, his eyes expressing more gratitude than he could ever express.

The both of them went together to the line, with Professor Henry standing just behind Sister Ana.

Finally, I turned my gaze to Casey, taking deep breaths before the showdown. She saw me standing there and looked away.

"I still get scared of flashlights." she said to me. "And of people. I'm always afraid of what the worst of them would do to me. Of what I couldn't fully understand from their actions sometimes with pure logic alone and--"

"Hey, hey, hey." I said, this time being the source of reassurance. "Your plan was elegantly simple, like all the best of plans. And people are capable. More capable than you realize. I know we tend to screw up--out of lack of knowledge or stupidity--but that's just what being human is. And when it counts," I neared towards her face before delivering this, "we know how to come together and make a difference. Sometimes, just to prove to the world--and ourselves--that we can."

Casey looked at me with her wide, green eyes. "Do you truly believe we can do this?"

I shrugged. "I don't think we have a choice." I told her.

Casey then took one last deep breath, eyes closed, before putting on a brave, determined face. "Alright," she said, nodding to herself. "As my love would say to anything frightening, 'Vamos morrer no fim! Vamos!' Meaning, 'We'll all die in the bitter end. Let's go anyway!'"

I laughed. Andy would definitely like Casey--as a friend, mind you.

We all got in line, from tallest to shortest, staring only at the people in front of us, in front of the window, gazing at our home planet. The one place we wanted so desperately to come back to. Not where things are going alright, but where things were familiar, and in our control.

The second alien used the airhorn-pistol thing to levitate the first alien so high that none of us could see the color of the hats they are placing on us, which were very tall and pointy, like dunce caps. The one placed on me felt like those birthday caps I used to wear with the children, but way more secure and snug without string. 

Unfortunately, we were lined up in a certain way that you couldn't look up without lancing someone in the neck with it. This I experienced when Isabel, standing in front of me, tried to find out the color of her hat, before poking me below my Adam's apple twice. 

"Sorry," she said, without looking back. 

I knew she couldn't. Her life, and her daughter's life, are at stake.

Finally, all of us were wearing black or white hats. The second alien set the first alien down on the ground. The third alien then arrived with a--and you won't believe this--an actual pen and yellow pad to write in.

"I believe this is what people in your planet use to write down the results." he explained to us. "This is just to give a feeling of familiarity."

"This gives me the feeling like I'm in an evil science lab." Tommy responded. "And we're the rats."

Auralie and Professor Henry guffawed. I would, too, if I wasn't scared for my life.

"That's enough," the second alien commanded. "I'm starving!"

"Me too," the first alien said.

The third alien went to the back of the line, presumably towards Mohamed. I heard the sound of the airhorn pistol being used to levitate the third alien at eye level, like some creepy cartoon space fae creature that wouldn't be out of place in early 2000s animations (ask me how I know). 

"Mohamed of Türkiye," he asked. "What color is your hat?"

"Black." he said.

Our ears pricked up immediately. We knew exactly what it meant, even if we couldn't express as such to the aliens. Or each other out loud.

It was all part of Casey's plan, who revealed herself to be one of the green-eyed logicians who got out of their dictator's island.

"Black and white will be used as code words that can tell us whether or not there are an even or odd number of hats." Casey had explained to us as we gathered in a circle, American football style. "Mohamed, you are at the starting point. You say 'white' if the number's even. 'Black' if the number is odd. Tommy can take your answer and figure out whether his hat is black or white. And then Professor Henry will figure his out. Then Sister Ana, and then so forth. Just based on the input they're given by the people behind them."

"And that works?" Isabel asked. "Like would that actually work to outsmart those aliens and bring us home."

Professor Henry turned to Mohamed. "Well, you're the mathematician. Do you think we can best those odds?"

"It could be possible," Mohamed said. "Theoretically. Something similar to this has been discussed in academic circles. But it's not something we truly experimented on."

"I have," Casey affirmed. "My friends and I have done it, and it works 90% of the time. Trust me, we can get out of this, alive and uneaten."

So, we had to accept it and trust her plan.

It was the only way out.

The third alien shook his head. "It's not. Your cap is white."

We sighed in relief. Okay, an odd number of hats. I thought to myself. Let's go.

"Now, Tommy of England." the third alien said. "What color is your--?"

"--Black!" the rugby player shouted immediately.

"hhhhat." The third alien finished saying, clearly unamused. "You are correct, though. Now stop jogging in place and punching the air! That better not be a code!"

"Is it?" the first alien said, his mouth drooling.

The third alien was silent. We all prayed that we didn't die right then and there. It agonized me not to look back and tell him that he did alright. That we were going to be alright.

Then, after 10 seconds, the third alien said nonchalantly, "I guess not," And continued down the line.

We would sigh a breath of relief, except that might be communicated as a secret code as well. I've read one book Eleanora loved in which sighs were a form of communication between two kids in a cancer group therapy session. The girl's name was...Lancaster, I think?

I didn't hear Professor Henry's answer, but the third alien told him he was correct, and then went to Sister Ana, who said her hat is white. Again, she is correct.

Then, it was Alberto's turn, who was standing behind me.

"Alberto of the Philippine Islands." the third alien said, "What is the color of your hat?"

Alberto hesitated a bit, which almost made me lose it, until he said, "Black."

"Correct." the third alien said.

So his hat is one of the black hats. I thought to myself. I took that and looked at the other black hats I could see in front of me. And I heard two behind me. That would make four. But Mohamed saw an odd number of--

Oh, I thought to myself, figuring out in an instant.

"Ernest of the United States of America--what a mouthful that one!" the third alien said. "What is the color of your hat?"

The answer was obvious, wasn't it?

"Black," I told the alien, letting the metaphorical dice roll in this intergalactic gamble.

"Correct," the third alien said. "And you are allowed to breathe. I've realized that in humans, it is a sign of relief."

So, I did.

The third alien went to Isabel, who was counting to herself. The alien asked her the same question, and Isabel correctly answered, "White." She made a silent cheer when the alien left to focus on Casey, whose hat is black.

It took her three seconds, but she was able to answer, "Black," to the third alien, who wrote something on their yellow pad. I was able to take a look, and found a short of counting system under a column. So far, one swirling mark on the left, and seven on the right.

Okay, I thought to myself. Three more to go. And then, home.

I then risked my nausea and snuck a peek towards the first and second aliens. They looked terrible and desperate, like guys at poker realizing their luck has shifted, with them losing more money than they won in the earlier rounds.

"Come on," the second alien said. "I need just one more mistake. Just one more."

"Jupiter's diamonds on high," the first alien said. "Heed my wish. Let me eat just one measly human. Just one morsel."

I can feel Alberto's and Isabel's panic and fear from all around me, feeling like walls of anxiety pressing against me, nearly suffocating in their grips of terror. If only I could tell them--and myself--that their kids are going to be fine. That children are a whole lot smarter than anyone gives them credit for. Including their own.

Auralie answered black.

Jennie answered white.

They were both correct.

And finally, it was Billy's turn.

The boy was quiet and took the longest pause out of all of us, the kind that felt like the floor had vanished, leaving us utterly weightless. With all our fates hanging in suspension between two options: Death, or home.

With slobbering, hungry aliens chomping at the bit to devour us all at one end.

And home at planet Earth, and the lives that are waiting for us all there, at the other end. 

This brutal and tortuous test led down to one kid being correct, to finish this ongoing streak that we were all carrying on our shoulders and spare all of our lives. All that mounting pressure towards Billy. I can't imagine how scared he must be, especially with no hats in front of him as guidance, nor the human ability to look back to check. To receive reassurance and comfort. To quiet his fears. To see his family again.

Please, Billy, please, I begged silently, thinking of my wife Jocelyn panicking in the wonderful house we were going to retire in together, and my children left staring at the skies for my return. We're almost there. Send me home. Send us all home.

Finally, in a voice so soft we could barely hear him, he gave a small answer. The alien had to bend closer to hear him better. "What's that, Billy of New Zealand?"

The boy repeated his answer again, his voice quieter this time, so none of us could hear him right.

The other two aliens went closer towards us, their revolting mouths open for a feast.

"Come on, Billy!" I heard Alberto whisper so softly so only I could hear. "Come on! Speak up! Speak up!"

The third alien communicated this in a harsher and not-kid-friendly way: "I say, Billy of New Zealand, if you do not speak clearly your answer this instant, I'm afraid my companions and I will eat you and your species alive anyway."

"Starting with you, Billy!" the second alien howled, their eyes lit with hunger-fueled madness.

The boy then started to cry wordlessly, falling on the floor and bashing his fists and heels against the floor, before screaming, "WHITE!! MY HAT IS WHITE!! JUST TAKE US BACK TO EARTH, MISTER ALIEN!! I DON'T WANT TO BE EATEN! I WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT--!!" before dissolving into intelligible sobs, turning on his stomach to continue bashing the spaceship floor, throwing an absolute tantrum.

The line dissolved immediately, with everyone crowding around and comforting the small boy. Alberto burst through all of us with reckless abandon, and scooped up Billy and Jennie, who was also crying at this point, saying how much she wants to go home too, and change out of her soiled dress and stockings. This made Auralie cry, which made Tommy, who was already crying, cry harder. Which made Isabel and Sister Ana and the rest of us lose it right then and there, taking off these stupid hats and joining the choir of sobs.

Out of the corner of our eye, I saw the three aliens group together, talking in their alien language. I wondered if they would uphold their end of the bargain. Technically, Billy did break the rule of not saying anything other than "black" or "white", but he still answered correctly when it mattered, even when the pressure we were forced to unfairly load on his tiny self was more than he could handle.

Finally, after we've quieted and got the stress and the tears out of our system, we gathered in front of the aliens, tired but willing to rip these aliens apart if they decided to eat us anyway. Auralie in particular looked ready to kick them with her ballet shoes. And Professor Henry kept looking between the rosary that Sister Ana had just given him, and at the second alien in particular, as if considering their use as a religious garrote wire to choke them with.

The third alien split from their group, with the first and second aliens looking more mopeyer and more frustrated than victorious. 

A wild hope rose within me. That's it? We're going home?

"The test has ended." the third alien. "All of you passed. You all will be sent back to where we found you, each in one piece. Starting now."

Chapter Text

And so at last, we are headed home.

"We are going to release you all in chronological order." the third alien stated. "So, you all will be released in the order that we brought you here."

"That's reasonable," Casey agreed.

"As long as we're out of here forever," Isabel prayed. "And we're still on time for the performance."

Auralie nodded, before approaching Tommy shyly, trying not to get her outfit dirty from the mud. "Thank you," she said, her face wet with tears. "I wish you luck on you and your enby crush. They sound delightful to be with."

"They are," Tommy replied. "If you do come to visit, I'll ask the pub to save a table for you."

"That will be after the performance." Isabel said, though not unkindly. She then turned to me and said, "And thank you. I'll probably watch some of the movies and shows you've made on our flight to England if I get bored."

"Will you?" I asked, my heart leaping like a little boy in front of a present-filled Christmas tree.

"No," Isabel responded, before cracking a laugh and said, "Just kidding."

I laughed, though honestly, she got me there for a second. I have so much to offer her in terms of show recommendations. "There's one small indie film I directed about a murder mystery in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, starring Viola Davis and Leah Sava Jeffries together as a grandmother and granddaughter detective duo. I think you'd love it."

"Oh yeah, I watched that!" Professor Henry exclaimed. "Not usually a fan of mystery films, but it was really good!"

"Are murder mystery films good for first dates?" Casey asked.

"Not for first dates," Tommy responded. "But once you two hit it off, then any scary film is good."

Isabel gave me a stern, assessing look that reminded me of way too many producers I've had to deal with over the years. "My relatives have been recommending me that film for months. I better like it," she said. And with that, she and her daughter left talking to each other in excited French.

"Wow," Tommy said. "I salute any person that tries to date Auralie."

I shushed him while seeing Casey fail to hold back her own laughter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alberto, Jennie, and Billy approach what looked like a glowing white circle on the floor where the three aliens awaited them on the other side. I kept an eye on them, ensuring that they don't go back on their end of the bargain and eat us anyway.

"Wellington, New Zealand." the second alien said.

Alberto hugged his kids, and went to Casey, hugging her. "Thank you for saving us." He said. "I don't know how to repay you."

"We can be pen pals." Jennie said. "You can tell me all about what you find in Porto, and I'll write about my music!"

"That would be great!" Casey said. "I'd love to tell you and Billy all about it!"

"Hooray!" Jennie exclaimed.

"It's time to go," Alberto said gently, before waving goodbye to Casey, herding the children along.

"See ya later!" Billy waved to everyone. We waved back.

I heard him count in Tagalog to the kids: "Isang, dalawa, tatlo" before all three of them jumped into the circle and disappeared from view.

The three aliens waited a bit and after 30 seconds, the first alien said, "They're home now. Next, Istanbul, Türkiye."

Mohamed breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally, back home to my wife."

"Wish you both well," Casey said to him.

Mohamed laughed. "Wish me well first. My beloved Nour will never believe a word about what happened here."

"How could anyone?" I asked him.

"How could anyone." he repeated. 

"Well, either way," Sister Ana said. "Peace be with both you and your wife."

Mohamed nodded, eyes watering. "Thank you."

He went into the portal, and after some time, it was Tommy's turn. 

"Somewhere in England..." the first alien.

"Such a tiny country," the second alien whined. "Not large like the others."

"Oh, I could help," Tommy said. "I live near Buckinghamshire. Just drop me off where you got me and I'll be good."

"Wait," Auralie asked. "Buckinghamshire? I have an aunt who lives in London. Maybe we can visit!"

"So can I!" Casey said. "I have a couple of friends who are also staying in London for a few days! Morgan's pretty excited about going to the London Eye, and Anastasia's been trying to make something called 'Turkish Delight' for a while. They might bring some to your place!"

"But it's far!" Tommy protested. "It's an hour and a half away from the city!"

Isabel chuckled. "That's nothing to us Americans."

"Hmm, I suppose..." the first alien muttered.

"Ah," the third alien said. "We're here over Buckinghamshire. But first..."

Oh, Jesus Christ. I thought. Casey and Auralie must have had the same thought, because both girls went in front of Tommy.

"...can we have a sample of the Earth mud you have?" the third alien finished, bringing out a test tube and a tiny brush.

For a moment, we all just stood there before our brains fully understood what they were asking. Even the other two aliens were confused.

"Why do you want Earth dirt?" the second alien asked.

"Just for research purposes." the third alien said. "It's been ages since we've got a sample. Maybe it's changed since the last time."

"When was the last time?" Professor Henry asked.

"Oh..." the third alien paused. "That's classified."

"Of course," Professor Henry responded, clearly bummed out.

"Nice try, though." I told him.

"Um..." Tommy said, still considering whether or not to give mud to the aliens. Then, he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Great," the third alien said. "I'll just take a small bit. Won't be too long."

Yeah, I thought, still skeptical of these green little shits. Don't bite his whole leg off while we're at it.

Isabel and I watched arms crossed as that third alien approached Tommy. The alien then brushed a part of his leg, trying to collect the sample.

Then Tommy burst out this huge, loud belly laugh that was uncontrollably infectious. Soon enough, everyone else left was laughing too, except the aliens. The third alien looked quite upset, given that Tommy was shaking so much from laughing so hard.

On the other hand, bits of the mud started sloughing off him, which the third alien noticed. They ended up using his tiny brush to sweep the sample inside the test tube.

Finally, Tommy stopped laughing, and began wiping the tears from his eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I'm so ticklish there. And I'm so excited to see my mates again. And Avery Liu--"

He stopped, and I would have guessed that the boy was blushing.

I smiled, and so did the girls. "Is that the name of the sexy enby of your dreams?" Casey asked him.

He nodded, shyly, reminding me of myself when I was in my high school dance, afraid of asking the one girl in my Biology class out, with her gum in her mouth and that wonderful aquamarine dress she had on that complimented her dark brown curly hair and her tortoiseshell glasses.

"H-hi, Jocelyn." I said, hand rubbing my neck out of shyness in my white rented tux. "Wanna dance with me?"

She smiled, and I was convinced that nothing else would be as incandescent and special to me that night, or any night since. "My pleasure," she said, sticking her hand out to me. The same that remained steady all our lives: through high school, college, marriage, children, PhD programs, adjunct positions, bad movies, everything.

My eyes still watered from remembering all those years. All that devotion. All that work. All the struggles and joys.

I still wake up wondering if I truly deserve such a gal. But I'm so lucky and grateful that I got her heart anyway.

I have to tell her this when I get back to Earth.

I smiled at Tommy, and put a hand on his muddy shoulder, which is a bit of a stretch since he was quite tall. "If you really like this person," I said, "Ask them out. You'll never know what you might find."

"They might say yes," Professor Henry added. "But back out gracefully when they don't."

"I will," Tommy said to all the advice, and then he hugged me. And in doing so, covered my clothes in mud and nearly crushed my spine.

It didn't help that everyone else went into this giant group hug. Auralie included, but only in the outer regions, just behind Casey.

But I didn't mind any of that. I simply patted his back and said, "You got this, Tommy."

Professor Henry whooped and clapped. "Go Tommy!" he yelled.

"We're waiting," the first alien said impatiently, totally unresponsive to the moment we're having here.

Tommy let go, still crying. He used the neckline of his jersey to blow his nose. After that, he nodded, tear streaks on his face, and then walked bravely into the portal.

"My turn," Casey said.

Auralie hugged her. "I hope you and your crush get together as well. And that I get to try a pasteis de nata one day."

"Trust me," Casey said. "You'll love it." She then turned to me and hugged me as well. "Thank you for everything."

"No, I ought to thank you." I said to her. "It was your plan that saved us. You're very smart and capable, Casey."

Everyone else said their thanks and goodbyes to the green-eyed logician. When the spaceship arrived over Porto, she waved goodbye to everyone and walked into the portal with a skip to her step.

Now, Auralie's and Isabel's turns.

As the alien spaceship flew over the Atlantic, I saw Auralie warming up, practicing some of her dance moves, her eyes brimming with emotion as she got into character. I could tell just from that alone that she was going to make a devastatingly beautiful Giselle to watch.

Isabel noticed me noticing, and grinned with pride.

"That's my girl." she said. "She was so stubborn about getting ballet classes, at six years old. She already knew what she wanted. I was worried about whether or not we'd be able to afford it all, especially after Katrina made living so much harder."

I nodded, knowing more than anyone else how expensive performing arts classes can be. "How'd you manage to afford it?" I asked.

"Donations from her community and strangers from the Internet," she said. "Making Youtube videos of her dancing and playing the piano and cello on the streets to raise funds. Even her aunt sends us money annually to support her. Even then," she shakes her head. "It's hard. But every time I see her practice and push herself and perform, I know deep down...it's worth it. It's all worth it."

Auralie makes a perfect arabesque, and looks at her mother, smiling. I can tell she heard every single word.

I clapped, and the dancer bowed so gracefully, it wasn't hard to imagine her onstage at the Metropolitan Opera, listening to the applause of millions.

I hope that dream does come true for her.

When the spaceship hovered over New Orleans, Auralie took one deep breath.

"Break a leg," I told her, out of habit.

Isabel hushed me. "No, you don't say that! You say 'merde'."

I blinked. "Merde?"

Auralie nodded. "Shit. It's good luck for ballet dancers."

I don't particularly understand, but I nod anyway. "Okay then," I said.

Then, both mother and daughter linked arms and walked through the portal together.

Soon, only three adults were left in the spaceship.

Professor Henry turned to Sister Ana. "So, do you live far? If not, I could escort you to the convent to keep you safe."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you flirting with a nun?"

"What? No!" Professor Henry put a hand over his heart. "I'm not. I'm just trying to be gentlemanly."

Sister Ana grinned, giggling. "No thank you, that would go against my vows of poverty and chastity. But don't worry about me. I'll be fine. It's your excavations into cursed temples I'm more worried about."

"Hey, don't worry too much about me." Henry said, showing her the rosary, "I've got what I need."

"Dallas, Texas." the first alien said.

"Time for me to go." Professor Henry. He turned to Sister Ana, eyes soft and sincere. "Buena suerte en tu peregrinación." he told her.

"Que Dios te siga bendiciendo." She responded, her eyes sweet and solemn.

I stood there, wondering how I got into this moment, watching such a tender and restrained moment, with two people with more chemistry than some actors do onscreen. It almost made me want to turn away, to give them privacy.

Both Professor Henry and Sister Ana stared at each other, sharing a look that seemed to communicate everything they wanted to say to each other, but couldn't. Then, Professor Henry smiled and dipped his head, tipping his imaginary hat before stepping away from Sister Ana and entering the portal.

Sister Ana went towards the portal as it vanished, as if to attempt to follow Professor Henry. I went after her.

We both ended up staring at the window of the American landscape underneath us.

"You're gonna be okay?" I asked her.

"It'll pass." Sister Ana replied. I wondered if that was for herself, as well as for me.

Before I knew it, they were at Corpus Christi. Sister Ana blessed me before leaving through the portal.

And soon, I was the only one left.

"Was I truly last?" I asked the aliens.

"Trust me," the second alien said. "An old Earthling like you would not be my first choice of meat. Nor my second."

The first alien nodded in agreement.

I sighed. "Let me know when I get back to LA."

"One question," the first alien asked.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Are there actual angels in your city?" the first alien asked. "Are they familiar with Alpha Centaurian witchcraft?"

"No," I answered, for both these questions.

"Oh," the first alien replied.

And at last, the portal lit up, and I knew that home was on the other side.

"Any recommendations for meat?" the second alien asked. "I'm still hungry, and we're still planning to go to Jupiter at some point."

"Try a cow," I said, before quickly entering the portal.

I didn't want to take any risks.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Dad?! Dad!"

"Dad? It's me Susannah, where are you?"

"Dad? Where did you go? Where did the aliens take you?"

"Ernest?!"

I opened my eyes, and I found myself on a familiar looking rooftop.

Oh, I realized. It's my own.

Below me, my wife and my children are racing inside the house. It doesn't look like time has shifted for more than 1 hour.

I try to control my footing while trying to find a balcony where I can slip inside. I know my house has at least one.

But when I found it, I realized that it was on a lower roof level, which would require the agility of someone decades younger.

God, I'm old. I think to myself for the millionth time.

Jocelyn rushes out of the balcony, dressed in a white poncho over an orange silk jumpsuit and sandals. She looks over, still looking for me.

"Jocelyn!" I cried out. "I'm up here!"

She turns, and I see tears in her eyes. My heart immediately broke, and I wished I could leap over there and comfort her. Preferably in something better than a tacky Hawaiian shirt and shorts. 

"Where have you been?" she cried out. "I have been worried sick! Andy's losing his mind, saying that you were abducted by aliens! I didn't believe him until I saw that damn spaceship! How did you get on that roof? Do you know how to get down?"

I laughed, not at my wife, but at the weird story I was about to tell her, Andy, and our daughters.

If I were a younger man, I would already be thinking about how to turn this into a film. 

But those days are behind me now.

Right now, the only audience that matters is my family. The one looking for me right now.

Andy and Susannah rush to the balcony. Andy nearly sobs from relief. "Dad! You're alive! Nora, he's on the roof!"

"How did you get up there?" Susannah asked. "Do you need someone to get you down?"

Eleanora walks in last, already on the phone. "Yes. Okay. Thank you. Come as fast as you can." She ended the call and said, "I called the firefighters. They'll get a ladder to get you down to the ground. Just hang in there, okay?"

"While we wait," Andy said. "Can you tell us what happened? Why did the aliens take you?"

I dared a few steps and when I didn't fall to my death, I sat at the edge of it so that I am somewhere comfortable when the firefighters do show up. Plus, my family could see me better.

"Well," I began, the same way I always do when I begin a story. "I genuinely thought I was going to die. It all started when I was at the pool, listening to Andy's ideas when..."

The End