Accidental Contact

It landed in the mountains with all the grace of a fart joke in the midst of a love sonnet. In other words, it crashed … hard. The creature that emerged from the rubble was the stuff of nightmares.

Of monstrous size, it moved in unnatural ways, as if animated by some magical force that ignored the rules of physics. It lifted enormous boulders from the area of the crash and piled them around the damaged craft to hide it from prying eyes.

It was like one of the old, rubber-suit monster movies come to life. When my team, tasked with monitoring the wildlife outside the city, saw the ship crash, we turned all our attention to it. The government and military were already aware by the time we called them and were watching our feeds as well.

We hoped — at least, I did — it would fix its craft and return to whichever star it came from or — at least — wouldn’t leave the mountains. When it began to make its way down the mountain, telescopic cameras on the highest buildings followed its movements as I controlled them from a remote monitoring station. Still, we all agreed that the recent reintroduction of the apex predator of the foothills would handle the problem for us.

I watched as the pack surrounded it. The creature’s immense size was most obvious then, as even the largest of the pack barely came to its knee, if that was the correct analogue.

With no way to hear what was happening, and much of the pack hidden by the trees the creature towered over, we could do nothing but hope. When the creature crouched down and disappeared behind the trees, we thought perhaps the pack had laid the creature to rest.

No sooner had we begun to breathe a sigh of relief than the creature stood again. In its arms it held one of the pack, walking out to the open hills. The pack followed, jumping around the creature’s legs.

The creature crouched and set the poor, frightened animal down. With their tails wagging like mad, the pack surrounded the creature. Where the pack was fearsome and dangerous, this creature had won them over in a matter of moments. No doubt it was as dangerous as the pack, if not more so.

When it stopped and looked toward the city, we felt its predatory eyes on us, marking each of us as a target. It began in a loping stride toward the city. It moved faster than anything that size should’ve been able.

All we could do was watch as it approached the city. It reached the ring road and folded its long legs under itself. It scanned the city with its predatory gaze, seeming to measure and take stock of us.

What I at first thought was the creature’s carapace turned out to be some sort of armor. It removed the armor from its hands, revealing long, misshapen fingers covered in something that left it looking slimy. Either that or the creature was, indeed, shedding its carapace.

Either way, the sight triggered some deep, instinctive part of the brain that put most of us on high alert while turning our stomachs in disgust. From our vantage point in the monitoring room, we could see the military vehicles rushing around the walls of the city on the ring road.

Those same walls that kept the wild things outside the city, hid the approach of the military as they approached. Once they cleared the corners though, the creature stood and raised its hands above its shoulders. It looked like it was getting ready to strike.

Having seen the creature’s speed, I feared for the troops that were rushing into harm’s way. Most of the vehicles stopped far short of the giant, while two tanks continued on, one on each side. Still, their presence provided us with audio as well.

The turrets on the tanks began to zero in on the creature, who jumped completely over one of them and kicked it so hard the entire tank spun to face the wilds as it fired. The second tank fired at nearly the same instant, at a target that was no longer there.

The creature grabbed the cannon of the tank it had just kicked and ripped it off the tank along with the turret. It jumped to the other tank and did the same before taking one giant stride away from the city and folding its legs beneath itself again.

The creature opened its maw and shouted out in a rumbling voice. “Stop it!”

“It speaks?” I asked, amazed.

The tank crews were as shocked as I. They stood around the broken tanks, staring at the creature.

One of the military commanders began shouting through a megaphone. I always thought they just had those in the movies, but here it was, in real life. “Do not attempt to approach the city! Any violent action will result in your destruction.”

“No shoot,” the creature bellowed.

The commander gave one of the sort of non-apologies we’ve all gotten used to on the news. It seemed to be enough for the creature, though, who asked for water after downing a wading-pool sized container it had carried at its waist.

What had started with an unexpected crash, followed by a tense moment when tank gunners fired prematurely, turned, at last, into a long, boring, parlay between representatives of the military and government, scientists, and the creature.

As the day wore into evening, the slimy look of the creature’s hands faded, seeming to dry out. It still looked disgusting in the camera’s view. I can’t imagine how horrifying it must’ve been for the people that were right there talking to it.

After hours of talking, a military truck pulling a water trailer stopped near the creature who dwarfed it. When the creature couldn’t get the opening of its water container low enough to fill from the trailer, it picked up the entire trailer and drained it into its container before setting it back down.

I was falling asleep at the controls when I was relieved for the night by someone from another branch. At my last look, the military maintained a corridor around the creature that had sprawled out on the ground, using the coverings it had taken from its hands as a sort of headrest. Meanwhile, it tapped on some sort of device the size of a large screen display, which it held comfortably in one of its grotesque hands.

As I made my way out of the control room, my supervisor told me, “Word is, this isn’t going to over any time soon. Be prepared for more long shifts.”

######

MSG RCVD 21:32 LOCAL:

FROM: Emergency Comm ID SP-4372

TO: Contact Corps Headquarters

AUTO-FWD FROM: Lyra 4 Observation Command Moon Base

SUBJ: Accidental First Contact - suboptimal outcome - also, I’m stranded

Orbital shuttle malfunction, emergency landing on Lyra 4. FTL comms down, I’m relying on the local messaging system with the moon base. Here’s hoping the auto-forwarding is on. Last team rotated out 6 days ago, new team not expected for 9 more days. Stranded on Lyra 4, need extraction and an official Contact team.

Landed high in the mountains, air was too thin to stay there without using oxygen from the survival suit. Have the three survival ration pouches from the suit but no other food. I should’ve eaten breakfast this morning.

Hid the shuttle in the rocks, but I’m pretty sure they saw me come down. Met a pack of six-legged creatures that act like dogs and enjoy attention. They’re the size of miniature poodles and have about the same temperament. I startled one so bad I thought it was going to have a stroke. Picked it up and soothed it and it was good as new.

In the lower elevations I came to a walled city. It looked a miniature movie set. Of course, the residents are no taller than my knees, but still weird.

Got shot at by two tanks, but they both missed. I kicked one so it wasn’t pointing at me and tore the toe of my survival suit. I got a little carried away and pulled the turrets off the tanks. One of the little three-legged guys was banged up a little when I kicked the tank, but no real casualties.

Hot as hell, I’ve been sweating like a pig. I’ve been breathing the air since I was low enough in elevation, so I went ahead and stowed the helmet. I’ve since removed the gloves and turned on the fresh air circulation. I was on the verge of dehydration, but the tripods were good enough to bring me some water. I know - full quarantine when you pick me up. Better that than a casket.

Spent a couple hours talking with the equivalent of a General and a President, along with a couple scientists - they brought images of the Caspian, just before it jumped out of system last week. Apparently, they knew we were here. The General offered what I’m pretty sure was a political nonpology for shooting at me, but most of the words flew right by me. It’s a little slow going as all I know of their language is what I picked up hanging around the research teams.

I have a full protective detail of tripod guys keeping the curious tripods and the “dangerous” predators away from me while I try to get some sleep out in the open. Will update as more details arise.

Sylvia Carter

Orbital Systems Technician, First Class

Lyra Observation Team

P.S. Did I mention I’m stranded?

P.P.S. The survival rations suck. The faster you pick me up, the more rounds I buy the rescue team.