FIRST CONTACT- A Short Story By Kieran Egan

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Is Zeke Ready For First Contact?

Submitted: October 20, 2012

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Submitted: October 20, 2012

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Zeke looked across the ocean of stars through the large window on the starboard deck. The opposing star reflected on the golden badge on the left of his chest, the shape of a supernova just seconds before explosion. The badge rested on a leather jacket that covered a beige shirt.

In the ninth minute of his galactic admiration, the radio communications device at the back of his belt, adjacent to his revolver, rang.

“To all crew members: this is V.I.A. informing you that we are but an hour away from Earth, V.I.A. out” V.I.A, Virtual Intelligence Administrator, must have contacted every working man and woman on the ship about this amazing news.

They had been travelling on the Starship Armstrong for the past eight months, to and from the Andromeda galaxy where Starfall, a human colony, was in dire need of supplies. Armstrong supplied the starving moon with more than a years supplies for it’s two million residents.

Zeke left starboard and made his way to his small quarters. There were one thousand crew members, including the captain, on the Armstrong. The ship however was much bigger than needed, probably because it’s a colonising ship. The Armstrong was the first ship on many moons and planets. It gets its namesake from the first human ever on another world, Neil Armstrong, Luna 1969. That’s how they identify astronauts now. Zeke’s ID was Zeke Hawkeye, Neptune 2067. It had been five years since Zeke first trod on a foreign world, out of all nine planets he chose Neptune because it reminds him of his daughter’s eyes.

His quarters were the size of an average apartment in Manhattan. A bed that could barely cover his length, an oak coffee table his wife, Clea gave him from their home for a reminder. The only other things in his room were his ProjecTV and a dresser that had a picture of him, his wife and his daughter Willow. He took out the revolver from the back of his belt and placed it on the dresser, next to the picture. He pressed a button on the edge of the coffee table and out of the centre of the table came a polystyrene cup with white coffee nearly to the rim. I need to restock the cups, he thought to himself while looking at the coffee table.  

He lied down on his bed and almost immediately fell asleep. Just ten to twenty minutes later, he was awoken by a loud alarm and flashing red light in the corner of the room. The shock made him jump up quickly, he seen his leather jacket on the floor, he couldn’t recall taking it off before slumber. He put it on quickly and ran out into the corridor. V.I.A’s voice was heard loudly in the alarm.

“All crew members report to assembly deck. Captain Smith is down, repeat Captain Smith is down” Zeke ran to the assembly deck, narrowly catching up with his friend and colleague Derrick Torn, Mars 2070.

“Zeke hurry, the assembly decks closing. Aliens have attacked the Armstrong” Derrick ran even faster to the door across the corridor.

“ALIENS!” Zeke shouted in shock. “I think you need to check again Torn”

“I don’t think there’s many 11 foot tall pirates with scaly skin, ZEKE” The doors were seconds from closing. Zeke and Derrick narrowly slid underneath the closing doors. 

The windows in the assembly deck were near closing point. Zeke quickly grabbed two gas masks, he put one on. “Torn, catch!” he threw the other mask at Derrick, who easily caught it. “Hold on to something” they both found poles opposing each other and grabbed on. Everyone else in the assembly deck was too panicked to find cover. The windows smashed open, taking almost everyone with them except for the few who had taken the same precautions as Zeke and Derrick. They could see the amazing red planet of Mars, the planets gravity field pulled everyone in. Falling at well past the speed of sound, only one person had managed to get a parachute, he didn’t get a gas mask and his head had exploded. Derrick pushed himself towards the falling man and grabbed his chute.

But celebrations were not in order. One of the suspected aliens had been falling behind them firing green lasers through a wrist mounted gun. The ship exploded, taking many crew members and the rest of the aliens with it. This one alien must want revenge, for it’s own doing.

They finally got into the Martian atmosphere and fell even faster.

“Derrick!” Zeke shouted, looking across at him and the alien. Zeke had kept his revolver and shot the alien in the shoulder, disabling the wrist gun. The alien swirled uncontrollably, its grey armour reflecting on the red deserts.  Derrick pulled himself closer the Zeke, grabbed him and pulled the parachute.

They reached the ground safely. As did the alien whose armour must be made for falling. It ran up to Zeke and grabbed him by the throat.

“Let him go!” shouted Derrick as he shot his gun at the aliens head. But the alien’s fist squeezed Zeke’s throat and diminished it of blood in the same second that it died. “ZEKE” he ran up to him, his throat now as thin a stick. He was dead and couldn’t be revived.

An hour later a drop-ship had made its way to the red desert and picked up the survivor.

He told his story and was never believed. But I could see in his eyes he was telling the truth.

This is Willow Hawkeye, Neptune 2080 of the Armstrong MKII signing out.


© Copyright 2019 Kieran Egan. All rights reserved.

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