WANTED

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a flash, science fiction inspired by hullabaloo22's story- Sighting. Has authorized by her for posting.

Submitted: May 18, 2019

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Submitted: May 18, 2019

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Wanted
 
One hour before dawn, all the alarm clocks, clocks or watches stop, digital or analog. Time is still. Held in the prison of space. Motions have no comparison against ticking needles or running figures. Still equals instantaneous. Zero equals infinity. One hr is no hr. As no time will be registered in any form or shape on any device. All you know is something has occurred from nothing. 
 
Just like this Saturday morning one hour before dawn, as soon as all my clocks were stopped, a spaceship mysteriously landed in a cornfield next to my house. No sounds, no shadow, no pre-warning. As if it went through a wormhole or a portal or a cave somewhere in the air. It had happened several times this year on Saturday early mornings when and where I started my weekly marathon run.  
 
It scared shit out of me when I first saw the ship just appeared in the middle of my runway through the cornfield. It wasn't the sighting of it but the suddenness that caught me unguarded. I was looking back at a deer that jumped across the bushes while I was running forward. It was not a wise thing to do at all as I could be killed by my impact onto the ship's solid outer shell, luckily that I hit a soft invisible cushion surrounded it instead. It was an electromagnetic field that was compatible to human body's. The body wouldn't just fall through it but would land softly onto the field when hit with speed. Like lying in a airy water bed with a very interesting sensation. 
 
I bounced and floated in the bed a while before I could stand up. I looked up and found a spaceship in front of and above me. It was about three-storey tall and was oval shape when landed. It had convertible wings stored in both sides of the ship. It gave an impression of a Mini Copper that was parked on a street, kind of compact and neat. I was not startled by this sighting as I believed in everything a Sci-Fi writer wrote. We are living in a created world anyway. The appearance rather set my curiosity off to a big degree. I waited for the visitors or intruders to come. Either I got caught as a hostage or simply got killed by their evaporators, I would be part of the history anyway. I thought. 
 
But I did not have a such luck, they were not intruders but visitors. They were in human form, about two inches taller in average, it gave them a hint of elfy looking. The way Asians looked at Anglos, nothing special. But what was different was the way they walked! So light, so graceful. Their feet seem equipped with anti-gravity device or something. They walked like ballerina! No, not exactly, as they did not walk with tiptoes. They walked with paws. Yes, they walked like cats! Quietly, gracefully, agilely. It was a pleasure to look at how they walked. They told me they came from a planet where felines were their distant ancestors. Oh, that made sense. And they surly could fight and hunt well too. 
 
I asked them if they would like to join the run then had breakfast together, they said 'Sure.' We then had a good run, but it only took them ten minutes to run five kilometers when it took me an hour. That time, one of the victors took me on the shoulder and finished the rest of run. At breakfast, they only took the black tea I offered, but not the rest. I asked them what could I did for them, they said they only wanted to know what I had been reading recently on the internet, and if I heard of a female who called herself "hallelujah22''. I said I had been reading Chinese novels and poems on the Internet, never heard of anyone called themselves “hallelujah" let alone "too-too" after that. I asked them what did she do and why they wanted to find out about her. (I thought she might be some space religion zealot and now was getting hunted.) They looked at each other and said nothing. I was curious but they seemed want to keep this secret so I did not try to be snoopy about it. I read them stories instead, mostly something funny or earthly stuff, like politics, terrorists, drugs, taxation, gays, bullying, or human trafficking etc, which I thought might be something new or creative to them. Which I was right, as they always listened to me with stunned faces and said 'How was that possible? Are you kidding me?' I shrugged and chuckled. 'We are on planet Earth, you can't expect anything better than that.'  Rather cynical. 
 
They came to visit my neighborhood quite often on Saturday mornings this year. Sometimes they did not come to see me, I guessed they went to try different breakfast or try to fish "something22'' out from others. In March, I got onto a website and found someone named himself "hullabaloo22" who posted poems, stories and books on a daily basis. I did not think of this 22 might be that 22 they were looking for. As I could not remember what was before 22, honolulu or hullununu or hallaluya, their accent was hard on my ears. But I still read 22's postings everyday. And I found his (for a week)/her works were unique in a very unearth way. Rather dreamy, rather fantasy, but rather creative too. And she got lots of fans and followers too. And I was and still one of them. But I never realized she was the one my visitors have been looking for! 
 
Two days ago, "hullabaloo22" posted her story of waiting her mother ship to pick her home. And she did admitted in her reply that she feels she does not belong to here. I started to have some idea how they were connected. 
 
This Saturday morning, my visitors came one hour before dawn again. They ran with me and asked me if I've heard of  “hulubalu22" by now, as they got some infrared-ray message from Earth that she is somewhere in North hemisphere close to England and she has been posting stories and poems daily on the Internet. My heart beat very fast as they had caught me that I have been withholding from them. I was wondering what do they want with this secret “hullabaloo22”. Do they want to fetch her back for a crime, does she want to go home so badly herself, does she need a protection, how about her readers, her cats, her sons, her friends, her house, her everything, what about Booksie, what about this poor planet??? My poor little head was jammed with all sort of questions that my zero-detective-trained mind could not solve. I simply braved myself and asked, ‘What do you want with her if I do know her?’ 
 
’We sent her to Earth about 200 years ago to study all sorts of elements of this planet so she could report back on what she found, so we could do some business or negotiation with Earth people. As our planet is dying, all our felines are getting extinct too. We need her passion and knowledge to save our planet. As she is a pro on feline. But she has apparently dwelled on this planet too long and has been writing away and revealing too much of her knowledge about our planet and the other around us too in her own Sci-Fi stories. I think she misses home too. So I think it is about time we locate her and get her back. For a while our ship has been cruising around the planet to locate her and we seemed to see her recently near a forest…'
 
’No, I have not seen her nor heard of her.’ I lied, my biggest lie ever in my life!! I hope God forgive me!!! I am not going to lose ‘hullabaloo22’ for the sake of Earth. You have to be selfish sometimes, I tried to calm myself down without betraying my knowledge of her to them. 
 
‘Ok, but we will not give up. We will keep coming back to find her. She is ours not yours!’ The leader touched his catlike whisker while looking deep into my eyes. His amber eyes shined. But I  kept myself collected and stood straight. After they took my tea, they left. The clocks started  again at one hour before dawn. I had done my run, so I went home and sleep more till noon.  
 
I have been thinking maybe I should report what I ran into to hullabaloo22 and let her make her own decision. I think she will find a way to solve this deliema and find a solution for the best benefit of all. 


© Copyright 2019 Derina Penn. All rights reserved.

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