Becoming the Story by L. E. Henderson Page B

resources.
    Though cautious, the White House chose to
publicly view the event in a positive light. In a speech the
president reached unprecedented levels of grandiloquence in which
he took all the credit for the discovery. “I am deeply humbled to
report that this momentous event has occurred under my watch. You
see? I promised change and here it is.”
    The speeches were overflowing with wonderful
sound bites that people would repeat for many days to come. “A new
chapter of our history is being written,” he said, “and every day
is going to be a new page.”
    During these speeches protesters gathered on
the White House Lawn holding illegible signs. What they were
protesting and chanting unclear. Each person seemed to have their
own idea of what needed protesting.
    A few were conspiracy theorists who doubted
the aliens existed and thought the government had invented the
story to protect itself, as a diversion from sex scandals that had
swept the White House in recent months.
    On the opposite end, cults sprung up that
worshiped the aliens as gods. Naturally, a few of the cults drank
poison and died. One cult believed that Planet Zod was their
ancestral home, which they equated with Eden in the book of
Genesis. They believed that their spirits would be received by the
Zodonians.
    Despite those tragedies, the discovery of
extraterrestrial life was the most magnificent and beautiful and
horrible thing to ever happen to humankind. In every culture, new
art flourished. New literary forms were created. And there was a
pervasive feeling that all humanity was witnessing a spectacular
revolution.
    Everyone seemed to exist in a constant state
of amazement. Everyone was desperate to see what the aliens would
say next. What did they look like? What were their bodies made of?
What were their customs?
    But gradually humankind began to notice
something unsettling. Despite copious radio messages being fired
through space, the aliens were not “answering the phone” anymore.
Where were they? Why were they so silent? Weeks passed, then
months. Finally, a year passed.
    In response to hundreds of desperate
inquiries about themselves, the Zodonions at last replied. Decoded,
the message said: “You wanted to know if you were alone in the
universe. We have generously answered your question. But frankly we
have no interest in your planet. If you continue to clutter our air
space with unwelcome inquiries, we will be forced to issue an Arg
Arg. Please do not contact us again.” No one knew exactly what an
Arg Arg was, but many suspected it was a kind of cosmic restraining
order.
    If the aliens had announced that they were
going to invade and colonize earth, humanity could not have been
more devastated. Humans had always assumed that if they did make
contact with intelligent extra-terrestrial life, the aliens – bad
or good – would be just as thrilled to discover humans as the
humans were to discover them.
    Despite the discouragement, astronomers
continued to blast off more inquiring messages, to which they
received no response. It was unbearable: the expectation, the
curiosity, all the preparation; and then, silence.
    The collective sanity of earth-beings
buckled. New scandals erupted. An official at the U.S. Defense
Department colluded with an astronomer in sending a message of his
own: “Our planet is full of delightful resources such as water,
air, salt, and precious minerals ripe for exploitation. Surely
there must be something here that you would like to mine or
harvest. I am sending you some helpful coordinates. Please invade
our world at once and promise to take me to your planet with you.
Other than our highly colonizable resources, my planet sucks.”
    The world held its collective breath in
preparation for the coming cataclysm. The Defense Department
pointed nuclear weapons toward the skies. Doomsday enthusiasts
prowled the streets with signs and looked creepy on purpose.
Americans set flags in their windows and candle flames