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Prologue

In the murky shadows of cosmic intrigue, a clandestine operation was unfolding well beyond the reach of common understanding.

The commander of the ship indicated “Go” to the pilot who was standing by with the coordinates of their waypoints and destination preprepared in his mind. The 40m disc shaped vessel they operated released its tether to their mothership, a mile long craft presently in orbit around the Earth and part of the Collective that was conducting long standing operations in the solar system.

This mission was considered to be standard ops for the team on board. The tight knit group was well used to executing these tasks and were bound by a strong esprit de corps, considering their work a satisfying and productive way of life. They were all very proud of their contribution to the overall mission of the Collective.

The human team had been in situ on the planet surface for a week and were now ready for another cargo transfer. Remarkably, these humans were a necessary factor in the overall scheme of operations. As they were indigenous, clearly, they were adapted to the conditions of the environment, atmosphere, gravity, bacteria and verbal communication, and were able to deal with the populace very effectively. Even though they were primitive, disgusting apes, with their scattered thoughts and irritating mannerisms, they were critical to the smooth running of the operation.

The craft came screaming down from space and reached sea level in seconds. The pilot was deeply focused on his objective, both of his four fingered hands placed calmly on the smooth control surface to his front to enable a neural connection with the sentient craft. This was an advanced ship, designed and built specifically for this crew and for this purpose. The smooth panels spoke of the advanced tech within as the pilot connected to the consciousness that controlled the craft. His seat moved, wrapping around him and conforming to his body shape and posture, providing a perfect custom fit. No words were exchanged here. All communication was telepathic.

By way of deconfliction, they had already registered their course and intentions to the relevant subdivision of human government, with whom long standing signed agreements were in place.

When just above the water at surface level, they altered course and headed at hypersonic speed to the preconfigured rendezvous point in the jungle. To minimise exposure time, the surface team was ready for their arrival at the RV point, and the cargo was in place, already prepared for transfer. This was a well-oiled machine, as the humans referred to it, and one that had been in operation for many hundreds of years.

The disc easily homed in on the beacon set by the surface team and came noiselessly to a sudden stop at the RV, at the precise local terrestrial GPS time, 30m above the surface. This was thick tropical jungle, and the craft was only just above tree level at a large clearing. The commander, Zylor, could sense the 10-man team in position below with their primitive but effective projectile weapons that, admittedly, were well suited to the Earth environment. Even if they were far too heavy and loud, and dirty. But why should he care at all about that?

The loading platform lowered immediately to the surface while the craft remained aloft. The ground team was already moving the large, enclosed container onto the platform. A low hum emitted from the HVAC system attached to one end of the container, which kept the contents within the desired temperature bracket to remain alive in the humid environment. The platform then raised smoothly and locked into position within the craft’s interior. After a few minutes the craft was ready and without warning it sped noiselessly to a different predesignated position over the water and after another brief pause, accelerated back into space.

It was rare that the craft was even detected by human sensor systems due to cloaking and sheer speed. The humans’ archaic technology was vastly inferior but was improving rapidly. They were nothing if not persistent and resourceful, and this was certainly the case regarding their technological development. Their bias towards continual improvement was, admittedly, one of their stronger points. But also, a flaw, as their thirst for technology could be leveraged to gain the required signatures needed on contracts that allow access to almost anything. It was like giving beads to the natives, he mused, in the human idiom. Which brought Zylor’s piercing mind sharply back to current operations.

The human ground team watched briefly as the UFO departed, always fascinated by the silent instantaneous acceleration. “How the hell does that work?” thought Butch the squad leader, every time. It just didn’t make sense. The G-forces must be off the charts. He had been doing this for years, but he still found it weird. Actually, incomprehensible was more accurate. All he could do was accept that it happened.

The human ground team was a team of experienced military special forces personnel who had privatised their talents and formed a small to medium enterprise that delivered services to an undisclosed government entity. The funding for this operation, or project, came under a legitimate military program and was disguised as search and rescue training development and advanced techniques that incorporate with future defence capabilities and battlefield integration. That’s not what they did, but their activities and expenditure were justifiable, disguised as part of this official government project.

What the team actually did was a lot more shady and officially deniable. They had all signed non-disclosure agreements ensuring the secrecy of this project. They could go anywhere they needed, to any country around the world. And they didn’t ask for permission.

Relieved that the UFO was gone, Butch said, “Let’s go,” and his team, clad in black tactical clothing, went to work automatically. They had done this many times. They quickly packed up the site while slinging their XM7 suppressed rifles over their shoulders in the stifling tropical heat.

Their gear and clothing bore no identifying insignia of country, unit or rank. They all wore the same uniform, with the same webbing and accoutrements, dark glasses, long hair and beards. They were well used to living in the tropical environment and were constantly drinking from hydration bladders in their backpacks. All the same, they were looking forward to getting back to accommodation to dump their kit, change out of their sweaty clothing and grab a beer. Because very soon they would do it all again.

Wiping sweat off his forehead, Butch wondered what destination this bunch was headed to now. Probably Ceres, he thought. Apparently, there’s a massive base there in the Asteroid Belt and most likely they’ll be used in mining operations. But really, they could end up anywhere. He felt sorry for them, but it didn’t affect him so why should he care? He was safe. His top cover made him pretty much untouchable. Butch and his team could go anywhere and do anything. Nobody could stop them.

The abductees would be tested for innate telepathic ability, of course, and funnelled off from there to wherever. Their brains had been wiped already, so these twenty adult men were just commodities now, simple pliable beings without emotions to get in the way. Just ‘containers’ was how it had been put to him once by some annoying jerk in a suit from ‘Head Office’ who he badly wanted to punch in the face. But that didn’t matter. As long as he and his team keep getting paid. Because this contract made him plenty of money.

This was how he justified to himself the ongoing human trafficking operation he had been involved in for many years. They were hoovering up these poor bastards, he thought. Plus, it had been going on for decades, so who was he to worry about ethical considerations when it had all been formally ratified by the Government?

Shadow Government, he corrected himself, whoever they were.

Human slavery certainly wasn’t a thing of the past. Far from it, Butch thought with a sigh, as he and his team finally climbed into their large black SUVs and single cab medium rigid 4wd truck, and then headed off down the winding track into the oppressive jungle heat.

And as far as he was concerned, the farther he was from those disgusting Tall Grey aliens in that damned stinking UFO, the better. Their creepy, wrinkled little faces and rotten odour made him shiver.

Chapter 1 - Radiant Disc

The cool evening breeze rolled over the mountains then gathered impetus as it poured down into the forested valley below, as if to wash away the stress and tension of a long hot week. The approaching weekend was heralded by a large waxing gibbous moon, gleaming down on the woods below with promise and expectation. The coming full moon was as certain as the natural cycles of the woodland and the tides that it controlled since the dawn of time, beheld in its reflected brilliance. The certainty of its orbit dictated the rhythms of life itself, its persistent progress through the heavens unchanging over millennia. The breeze whispered its way through the pine trees and up a low rise, greeting a small wooden dwelling nestled in their midst. It cared not of the mild obstruction and continued on, heedless of the profound thoughts expressed within.

“Hang on… what did you say, Spock? What was that?” Mike reached for the remote and had to rewind the old VHS tape and listen again.

“Loss of life is to be mourned, but only if the life was wasted,” Mr Spock pontificated.

Mike was at home by himself on a Friday night on the couch, eating some chilli chips and watching some old, animated Star Trek episodes on the tv. This was his comfort zone, his alone time, his chance to switch off after a long week. He paused the video and thought about what Spock had just said, shaking his head in wonder. He knew that Kirk, the impulsive human genius and Captain of the Enterprise, would have glanced at his Vulcan friend with a puzzled expression filled with wonder and irony. So calm, wise and logical and thank God he’s here. But what on Earth is going on inside his brain?

Fortunately, thought Mike, Spock’s calm and logical brain balanced out Kirk’s impulsivity and brash risk taking. They fitted together like pieces of a puzzle.

Mike’s mum, Peggy, was currently away interstate having some valuable time out and visiting some old buddies. Occasionally she would do this to treat herself and catch up with her mates and she always came back invigorated. Mike knew it was good for her to get away and encouraged her to take the opportunity when it presented itself, but he still worried about her being away by herself. After all, she wasn’t all that big and was getting on a bit now. And she was always asking him to open jars for her. It could be a bit dangerous travelling by herself. Maybe he’d speak to her about it when he saw her next.

In the meantime, this weekend was just the holiday he needed too, to do his own thing, chill out and properly relax. Maybe he’d get a chance to climb the mountain behind his house. He thought about the gear he’d need to take and was pretty sure he had everything he needed. He ticked off a mental list of what he should take.

Mike was coming to the end of High School, and the stress of schoolwork was building. Now the fridge was stocked, his time was his own, his plan for the next couple of days was mostly sorted. This was going to be a good weekend.

He settled back into the couch and grabbed another handful of chips, watching as Spock did what he did best, create order from chaos. When everything went to poo, he’s the one you want around, Mike thought. Sure, Kirk could punch on with a Gorn, he mused… His thought unfinished, Mike’s attention snapped back to the onscreen action.

Mike’s Dad was long gone, and he hadn’t seen or heard from him in a number of years. Over a decade now. And he didn’t really know why. His mum just said it was something he had to do, and he probably wouldn’t be back for a good while. What did that mean? Did that mean never? He had no idea but was used to it now, with a deep sense of loss pushed aside into a corner of his brain where it remained mainly untouched. His memories were fading, and he really didn’t go there at all anyway. That was the past.

These melancholy thoughts were interrupted by the familiar raucous sound of a dirt bike out the front, signalling the welcome arrival of his friend Rick, who he’d known for most of his life. Rick was a funny, smart, active sort of guy who was the voice of common sense when the two of them got up to adventures. When Mike wanted to shoot rocks onto the neighbour’s roof with the slingshot, Rick would argue that they probably better not. If they went off camping for a week, Rick would point out that the forecast was rainy and his boots needed more waterproofing. Rick was bigger, stronger and undoubtedly had more common sense. He was way less impulsive than Mike and always thought things through.

Mike met him out on the front porch. “Howdy!” Rick yelled out once he switched off the bike and removed his helmet. He took his gloves off and the two wandered inside.

This evening Rick seemed a bit distracted and distant. Mike offered him some chips as they strolled over to the couch.

“Oh yeah, the animated series! Classic!” Rick said, looking at the tv. “Spock!” he exclaimed with a wry chuckle and shaking his head without explaining himself. Mike thought he pretty much knew what he meant anyway.

“Everything going alright?” asked Mike. Mike figured he was just coping with school stuff or else sick of getting up super early for rowing practice. How could anyone ever enjoy doing that?

“Oh yeah, yeah…” he replied in a reserved sort of way with a deep, expressive sigh. Mike knew his good mate very well. He was experienced in the ways his friend thought and acted, and he knew something obviously wasn’t quite right. Oh well, he’ll probably sort it out his own way.

He looked at his companion who was chewing his nails distractedly and tapping his fingers on the couch, and said decisively, “Let’s go get some pizza.” Rick nodded.

Mike switched off the tv as they got up and headed for the door. He didn’t know what was going on but pepperoni pizza with olives was a good way to get to the bottom of it. He threw on his dad’s old boots that he’d acquired ages ago and had repaired a few times over the years, and they headed out into the fading light of the pleasantly warm evening.

“How’s your mum going?” asked Rick, as he looked around at the woods and then up at the evening sky. It was nice out here on the verandah of the old cottage looking out on the nature that surrounded them. The mountains loomed beckoning over the pine trees that were slightly swaying in the breeze. The moon cast ominous shadows in the forest that allowed the nighttime creatures to go about their nocturnal business.

“She’s going ok,” replied Mike. “She’s off to see her mates for a while so she can have a break from me!”

Rick chuckled, knowing this was not exactly the case. “You’ve got the place to yourself then?”

“Oh yes!” said Mike joyously. “This is going to be a good weekend!”

“Shame,” said Rick. “I was looking forward to some of her Spaghetti Bolognese!”

“Oh yeah, that’s good. She’s got that down to a fine art!” agreed Mike. “I think there might be some sauce in the freezer,” he said. “I’ll get it out later on for tomorrow night.”

The old battle-scarred Jeep wagon Mike owned groaned slightly as they hopped in, and they headed off through the woods. The suspension had seen better days and there was an overheating issue sometimes in the summer that you had to watch out for, but the old Jeep was cruisy and comfortable and was a veteran of many adventures.

Mike occasionally just took it out up a track into the mountains by himself and slept in the back with the back seats laid flat. He enjoyed getting up and watching the sunrise with a coffee from his little camp stove. That time was the most relaxing and peaceful time he ever knew. That was when he felt totally at peace and at one with the world. Just sitting on the tailgate of the Jeep and absorbing the quiet early dawn vibes while watching the sunrise, a steaming mug of coffee warming his hands.

In the surrounding woods it was very isolated and peaceful, and the smell of pine needles filled the air. Rick looked up at the stars that blinked as they passed through the trees and headed down the track. Mike looked around and his thoughts inevitably turned to previous adventures they’d had in these woods and where they would go next.

This was something that he actually wanted to do rather than something he just did on automatic, like schoolwork or sport. He was good at sport but strangely he didn’t really look forward to it, and schoolwork was just something you had to do and then forgot about as soon as you exited the school gates. Homework was a totally foreign concept to Mike and as far as he was concerned, if he didn’t pick it up during class, then it probably wasn’t worth picking up. Like maths. It featured well and truly at the bottom of Mike’s priority list. And his grades currently reflected this lack of focus.

Occasionally the wind howled as it gusted through the pines, but the conditions were still quite balmy. The windows were down, letting in some of the welcome organic smells of the forest. The old cassette player was playing an old mixed tape Mike had put together long ago. It was clearly very outdated tech, but Rick knew Mike enjoyed the clunky, lo-fi ambience and the old cassette that he’d fixed a few times with sticky tape when it broke. Back in the day, it was cutting edge technology and still worked now, just. Much like his old crusty Jeep.

Then, without warning, the tape deck stopped playing. It just switched off. And then something very strange happened. The engine cut out and Mike pulled over and parked the Jeep. Rick looked at him with a curious but alert expression.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning forward, looking at Mike very closely. Mike’s expression was vacant, and he was unresponsive. Then Rick quickly looked out the window and up at the sky.

“Oh…” he sighed, followed by a deep breath, suddenly understanding the situation. He started tapping his thigh with his fingers a bit more vigorously than before. He knew it was going to be soon, but not how or when. They had told him he was coming too.

Here we go, he thought.

Mike didn’t reply, looked straight ahead, then opened the door and stepped out of the Jeep onto the track. He was clearly acting on automatic, as though he was being controlled by someone else. Someone else was inside his brain, telling him what to do.

The stars had gone. They got out of the Jeep and stood there on the track looking up. Were there lights up there? Yes, there were lights, but it was dark, and it was very quiet, and Rick could tell that Mike was still unresponsive. Whatever was above them was blocking out the stars. It was big. It wasn’t moving and it was totally silent, just sitting there.

Rick was saying something. “Mike, Mike…” but it got lost as Mike’s attention was focused on something in front of them. Thirty feet away. Two beings, grey, four foot tall, just standing there looking at them with big unblinking eyes. And Rick and Mike were looking back, now strangely calm, before everything went blank.