Robert Emmertson lay back in his seat as the typical smell of Manhattan traffic choked his lungs. Big cars shivered all around him, big boots to fill with little feet. His eyes drifted to his car's ceiling. Pocketed with hundreds of pin-sized holes. A part of him wondered why it was made that way. Most of him was still trying to figure out what was wrong with everyone else.|
Four weeks ago, a ship showed up over Ireland. Twenty miles long, hadn't he heard? The grays that those giggling alien-lovers had talked about for years had come. An ambassador of the "Menuhim" as they called themselves took over every TV and Radio station around the world and announced that they were ascending the Irish to a new spiritual plane. Then the fuss began.
Most of the G7 countries got pissed off that they weren't chosen first. The US and China got in a squabble about who would be next. The US claimed priority as they had the highest number of citizens of Irish descent, and their usual "seat of democracy" nonsense. The Chinese claimed to be the most civilized people on the planet; which the US countered by bringing up the Tianemen square incident. The Chinese ambassador to the US then commented on the social decline of the states.
Only the British stayed out of this. Their concerns about the no-access order given to the world by the grays were ignored. They had treatened war with the Menuhim if they were not allowed to verify the safety of their neighbours, before being talked out of it by good old president Berkley. The UN was silent, which was curious...
And now, just four weeks after the human race found out it was not alone in the universe; four weeks after seven million people were locked away from the rest of the world; four weeks after a twenty mile ship began to hover over Dublin EVERYTHING WAS BACK TO NORMAL. What the hell was going on?
The sudden blaring of a horn brought Robert back to the ground. He put his foot back on the accelerator and began to move again.
Someone fell onto his bonnet, and rolled of leaving a crater in the metal.
Robert slammed on the brakes and leaped out of his car. The car behind him screamed again. He ran to the scruffy man on the ground. At least he wasn't bleeding. There was a sudden movement from the man. MY GOD, thought Robert, HE'S STILL MOVING?
He kneeled down beside him. "You okay?", he asked then screamed out "Someone call an ambulance!". While the crowd that had gathered tried to figure out who was to go, he asked "Help is on it's way.. Hey, what's the name?"
"Nathan Bright...", said the man, and he lunged forward to grab Roberts shoulder, "I need to speak to President Berkley NOW..."
He collapsed back onto the ground