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TO ALL ALIEN HUNTERS…TO ALL EARTH PEOPLE EVERYWHERE…A dangerous group of aliens is planning an Earth invasion sometime in the next week. REMEMBER: NOT ALL ALIENS ARE THE SAME. This group is warlike and has no regard for human life. Their most likely plan of attack: to take over human bodies. When the aliens come to your area, you will see clues. WATCH FOR THE FOLLOWING SIGNS:
People you know behaving strangely
Unusual lights in the sky
Spontaneous amphibian replication
The sudden growth of non-native plants (example: palm trees in Alaska)
Flashes of blue light
Swarms of insects out of season
I REPEAT: ALIENS WILL BE INVADING THE EARTH SOMETIME IN THE COMING WEEK. WE DON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHERE THEY WILL LAND. WATCH FOR THE SIGNS. IF YOU SEE THEM, CONTACT SOMEONE AT THE WORLD ALIEN ALLIANCE IMMEDIATELY.
Signed, Zandor
“Ben! Breakfast is ready!”
Mom’s voice broke through my trance. I was sitting at my computer before school, reading a notice that had just appeared in one of my favorite chat rooms.
“Hurry up, honey!” Mom called. “You’ll be late for school!”
I glanced at the message on the screen one last time. Zandor. What a wacko, I thought, switching off the computer.
My name is Ben Shipley. Why was I checking out this weird chat room? Well, you might say I’m a little obsessed. As long as I could remember, I wanted to meet an alien.
I don’t think that is so weird, really, considering where my family lives—Bitter Lake, New Mexico. It’s a small town near Roswell. There’s a big military base in Roswell. Some of the kids at school haveparents who work there.
A lot of people say that aliens once landed in Roswell. I believe it.
Still, some people give us alien hunters a bad name. Like Zandor, the wacko in the chat room. “Spontaneous amphibian replication”? Like, all of a sudden there will be salamanders everywhere? Puhleeze.
I grabbed my backpack and went downstairs for breakfast. Mom passed me on the stairs. She planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Good morning, sweetie,” she cooed.
“Morning, Mom,” I said, wiping her kiss off my forehead. She trotted upstairs to her room.
I love my mom, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood for her lovey-dovey stuff. She was always hugging me and my brother, Will, and telling us how much she loved us. Ecch.
In the kitchen, Dad and Will were sitting at the table, eating cereal. Biscuit, our dog, was gnawing on something under Will’s chair.
“Good morning, Ben,” Dad said, glancing up from his coffee. Dad is stocky, bald, and wears gold-rimmed glasses. “Sleep well?”
I nodded.
“Look, Ben!” Will yanked something out of Biscuit’s mouth.
It was an old troll doll with a goofy face and longblue hair, covered with dirt and dog drool. Biscuit had dug it up in the backyard.
Will waved the doll in my face. “Look!” he cried again. “This must be one of their babies. It’s proof! Living proof, I tell you!”
Will cackled and waved the doll in the air. Biscuit, a shaggy little mutt with white and gray fur, whined, refusing to take her eyes off it.
“Biscuit wants her doll back,” I told him. “Give it back to her.”
Will made a weird face, flaring his nostrils and popping his blue eyes wide open. “They’re in our skies!” he shouted. “They’re everywhere! The aliens are coming! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
He ran out of the kitchen, laughing like a maniac. Biscuit scampered after him, still watching the doll.
“Dad, tell him to stop making fun of me,” I said.
Dad frowned at me. “Ben, you know how I feel about that UFO silliness.”
I sighed and shoved a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. I knew very well how Mom and Dad felt about my interest in aliens.
They didn’t like it. They thought it was unhealthy and a waste of time.
But I didn’t care. I knew I wasn’t crazy.
I had proof that aliens had been here. Real proof. I’d found it just the day before.
But I didn’t want to tell Will about it. Or my
TO ALL ALIEN HUNTERS…TO ALL EARTH PEOPLE EVERYWHERE…A dangerous group of aliens is planning an Earth invasion sometime in the next week. REMEMBER: NOT ALL ALIENS ARE THE SAME. This group is warlike and has no regard for human life. Their most likely plan of attack: to take over human bodies. When the aliens come to your area, you will see clues. WATCH FOR THE FOLLOWING SIGNS:
People you know behaving strangely
Unusual lights in the sky
Spontaneous amphibian replication
The sudden growth of non-native plants (example: palm trees in Alaska)
Flashes of blue light
Swarms of insects out of season
I REPEAT: ALIENS WILL BE INVADING THE EARTH SOMETIME IN THE COMING WEEK. WE DON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHERE THEY WILL LAND. WATCH FOR THE SIGNS. IF YOU SEE THEM, CONTACT SOMEONE AT THE WORLD ALIEN ALLIANCE IMMEDIATELY.
Signed, Zandor
“Ben! Breakfast is ready!”
Mom’s voice broke through my trance. I was sitting at my computer before school, reading a notice that had just appeared in one of my favorite chat rooms.
“Hurry up, honey!” Mom called. “You’ll be late for school!”
I glanced at the message on the screen one last time. Zandor. What a wacko, I thought, switching off the computer.
My name is Ben Shipley. Why was I checking out this weird chat room? Well, you might say I’m a little obsessed. As long as I could remember, I wanted to meet an alien.
I don’t think that is so weird, really, considering where my family lives—Bitter Lake, New Mexico. It’s a small town near Roswell. There’s a big military base in Roswell. Some of the kids at school haveparents who work there.
A lot of people say that aliens once landed in Roswell. I believe it.
Still, some people give us alien hunters a bad name. Like Zandor, the wacko in the chat room. “Spontaneous amphibian replication”? Like, all of a sudden there will be salamanders everywhere? Puhleeze.
I grabbed my backpack and went downstairs for breakfast. Mom passed me on the stairs. She planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Good morning, sweetie,” she cooed.
“Morning, Mom,” I said, wiping her kiss off my forehead. She trotted upstairs to her room.
I love my mom, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood for her lovey-dovey stuff. She was always hugging me and my brother, Will, and telling us how much she loved us. Ecch.
In the kitchen, Dad and Will were sitting at the table, eating cereal. Biscuit, our dog, was gnawing on something under Will’s chair.
“Good morning, Ben,” Dad said, glancing up from his coffee. Dad is stocky, bald, and wears gold-rimmed glasses. “Sleep well?”
I nodded.
“Look, Ben!” Will yanked something out of Biscuit’s mouth.
It was an old troll doll with a goofy face and longblue hair, covered with dirt and dog drool. Biscuit had dug it up in the backyard.
Will waved the doll in my face. “Look!” he cried again. “This must be one of their babies. It’s proof! Living proof, I tell you!”
Will cackled and waved the doll in the air. Biscuit, a shaggy little mutt with white and gray fur, whined, refusing to take her eyes off it.
“Biscuit wants her doll back,” I told him. “Give it back to her.”
Will made a weird face, flaring his nostrils and popping his blue eyes wide open. “They’re in our skies!” he shouted. “They’re everywhere! The aliens are coming! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
He ran out of the kitchen, laughing like a maniac. Biscuit scampered after him, still watching the doll.
“Dad, tell him to stop making fun of me,” I said.
Dad frowned at me. “Ben, you know how I feel about that UFO silliness.”
I sighed and shoved a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. I knew very well how Mom and Dad felt about my interest in aliens.
They didn’t like it. They thought it was unhealthy and a waste of time.
But I didn’t care. I knew I wasn’t crazy.
I had proof that aliens had been here. Real proof. I’d found it just the day before.
But I didn’t want to tell Will about it. Or my
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