Stonehenge

Humans. Animal, mammal, primate. They have collar bones and opposable thumbs for throwing and elaborate tool use. They have large brains, flat faces, and binocular-colored vision to quickly and reliably process visual information. They are bipedal, mostly hairless, and capable of producing sweat, making them tenacious endurance hunters. They were the definitive example of a high-investment, high-reward organism. They considered themselves the predominant intelligent species on planet Earth.

Until March 20th, 2199, thirty years ago, they considered themselves the only intelligent species in the entire galaxy.

The great monument of Stonehenge is one of the great cornerstones of early civilization. Sturdy and unbending, it bore itself like it had for thousands of years as chaos folded around it. Several dozen camera crews had arrived long before the Magister and his trusted allies arrived. The whole world was connected to his sudden announcement given thirty minutes before.

"We will have the landing zone here at Stonehenge," he said in the back of an old luxury car. "51.1789 degrees north, 1.8262 degrees west. I, Sir Oscar Reynolds, representative of Great Britain, will humbly make first contact."

The BBC crew on the other end of the webcam blinked. "Will this meeting take place once the fleet arrives?"

"No. That would be too late to discuss terms. There's no need to be shy with our new guests."

"Then when is first contact?"

The Magister grinned. "Immediately, without delay! This is non-negotiable, thank you."

History often moves at glacial speeds until it strikes like lightning. It was apparent to everyone that no one other than the Magister knew about this surprise plan, but there wasn't a chance to challenge his authority. The Kainian scout vessel waiting patiently in low orbit sprung to life. It heard him loud and clear, as it was always listening. Within minutes, just as the police were preparing to arrest the diplomat mid-transit, the ship charted a course for northern Europe with speed in its step. Anti-air defenses sprung to life and were prepared to destroy the new alien vessel, but a word somewhere down the chain prevented the strike. No reactionary fire was made. For the sake of Earth, the plan had to commence.

An hour passed before his lone car arrived on site. The whole world surrounded his vehicle, cameras flashing like an epileptic seizure. It was awfully amusing, but he was content to have made it this far. Undeterred, the old man and his four close friends disembarked and waded through the chaos, forming a diplomatic spearhead as the evening sky lit up.

"I know we're all very excited," he told the crowd. "But be polite. Do your duty for all of us."

Oscar approached the old site. His eyes watched the lone star in the sky. The Kainians had been waiting patiently. To see a kilometer-long behemoth floating above him like that was unnerving, like a mouse at the foot of a large elephant.

Suddenly, it dipped. Faster than anyone could imagine, the scout ship descended from above and towered over the landscape, shaking the Earth beneath them with the hum of its mighty engines, so strong several long-standing pillars toppled. The people shuddered, holding onto their earbuds to handle the ship's bellowing wail. It was enough to bring them to their knees. For a second, everyone thought this would be the end.

But the noise stopped. Peace came to the countryside, and a lone aircraft emerged from the elongated vessel's belly. It then hovered above the delegation and descended like a falling leaf, moving in a hypnotic, rhythmic pattern. Suddenly, a pair of hypersonic jets passed over the site. Oscar clenched his collar, fearing the worst would befall the delicate craft, but the moment passed. Death was avoided yet again.

Once it reached a hundred meters off the ground, it stabilized and made a slow and smooth descent, touching down with six landing claws opposite the monument. The engines cut off, and the craft was as still as a breeze.

The Magister caught the cue and walked into Stonehenge at a brisk pace. His colleagues followed in unison while the mob struggled to keep up due to their lack of coordination. A white light pierced between the rocks and mixed with the orange sunset. Through the blinding light, a silhouette of five beings emerged and strode forth, their bodies hidden behind stark white robes and ornate capes. They appeared humanoid.

A leader stood out amongst them, quite literally. They were a head over the well-statured Reynolds in height and had long, tense limbs peeking through the robes. Their eyes met. The two understood each other immediately and came to the center. From a symbolic standpoint, it felt right for both parties to do so, or at least Reynolds thought. Were they mimicking him, or was sentimental value universal between the two species? It was clear he was dealing with alien beings. They knew nothing of Earth's customs and human biology. Yet, this felt very typical, an old habit for the diplomat.

Once they got within two meters of each other, the Magister stopped. It was best to avoid contamination with the aliens, he thought. Their bacteria could be dangerous, and everyone's lives could be at risk should it spread by touch. Reynolds wasn't afraid to die, but the alien didn't seem to care either. It was inches from embracing the Magister before it read the situation and backed off, stumbling for a moment before it regained composure. The Magister's eyebrows raised. He had learned a dozen facts about this person in a handful of movements. 

The table was set, five on five, on equal footing. Cameras surrounded the scene, and security formed a perimeter inside and out. A hundred minds moved at once, clamoring for their own goals, but all focused on the two in the center. Humanity's survival hinged on this conversation. At that moment, the Magister's anxiety ceased. The following words would be the first true words between the two species. He knew what to ask.

"You're wearing platform heels," he said, glancing briefly at their shoes. "I assume it's not a fashion statement?"

There was a pause. "Our research said your people had a penchant for height," she said.

She? Oscar thought. What an adorable voice and a charming accent to boot. "Is that true on your home planet?"

"There are feelings, yes." The alien observed her surroundings. Lights flicked in all directions. "My apologies for damaging your monument. We know how important your history is."

"It's only a few scratches," he replied. Behind him, another heavy stone fell over. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Your English seems to have improved."

The Kainian reached underneath her hood, pointing at the left side of her cranium. "I have a translator. It changes the neural messages from my brain to my lips. We haven't had enough time to gather enough data for a fluent conversation, but I hope it suffices."

"Lips, you say?" Oscar Reynolds hit his groove. "You know, on our planet, we greet each other with a kiss."

"I thought so, that's why I-." The alien paused, shuffling around. The other spoke to her through clicks in their masks, and she straightened up quickly. "I apologize. Our ambassador died on the journey here. It took us four years to arrive. I am the ship's navigator."

Oscar smiled. Ten seconds in and he could read the Kainians like a book, from their ages to mannerisms to their hierarchy. His confidence soared, as well as his curiosity. He had to see what was beneath the mask. There were enough pulp sci-fi movies to fill his imagination for days, now offering truth in the present. He moved forward and took her hand. She even had five digits. "Well, I think you're doing a wonderful job. I was prepared for a silver-tongued devil, but you're much more pleasant." He kissed her hand. "Would you care to talk terms over some Earth cuisine?"

"Absolutely, we were expecting worse, too." She loosened some straps behind her neck. "Your first broadcasts were not flattering, but to think you figured us out so quickly." With finesse, she detached the suit's helmet with a sudden hiss. Oscar had to remove his spectacles to see clearly. Light beamed from the crack, a minty green, shimmering and verdant before the mask lifted and it settled into a warm, inviting glow. The alien was stunning, a human woman, thirty years his younger with fair skin and glowing green hair, its locks dancing in the orange sunset.

The surrounding Earthlings exploded in chatter. Oscar gulped.

"I suppose this is a…form we are comfortable with?" He asked.

She smiled. "Don't worry. There will be plenty of time to learn from each other, cousin."

The two spoke throughout the night, their conversations broadcast to billions as they sat on a bench opposite the site. The world simmered down for the first time in a long while. Despite the attention, Del, the navigator, answered Oscar's questions without rest, her grace and softness drawing humanity into a trance. "As shocking as this is," she laughed as if explaining an embarrassing situation. "We Kainians are also humans. We may have differences, but we are all entirely compatible as far as we know."

"Really? Define 'we' if you can."

"We are just the Kainians, but there are dozens of humanoid species out there in the galaxy connected by the natural Darc Sequence in our genetics. We Kainians have been searching for undiscovered human civilizations and bringing them under our combined banner."

Oscar grimaced. "Does this mean an invasion?"

"You'll receive full citizenship!" She flustered. "And our technology and protection from alien forces! I promise you'll be treated as equals!"

Oscar stretched, feeling a joke erupt out of him. "Sorry, but you're messing with the wrong homo sapiens. We'll have to pass."

"Please don't! We want to help! Every member of humanity is our family!"

Her counsel stepped in to aleve the "situation," as they knew they were speaking to a live audience, and the joke wasn't landing. The terms were simple, or rather, very complicated. They would take years to negotiate between all parties, but the sentiment was the simple part. Humanity sticks together, no matter what.

"I understand it's difficult to process," Del said. "But this is a story that has just begun." She took a knee and held Oscar's hand. "For the sake of both of our species, I offer peace to you."

There was no need to ingratiate herself, as Oscar had already been smitten. "Well, I am a firm believer in peace," he chuckled. "What do you have for us, sister?"