Almost every nation on Earth understood the aliens were real, except North Korea. North Korea was the most isolated and paranoid country on Earth. Though American military activity in the Korean War ended in 1953, officially, the war never ended. There was only an armistice. The 160-mile border between North and South Korea was a heavily guarded no-man’s-land of listening posts and land mines.
North Korean intelligence believed the alien invasion was an American ploy to overthrow their government. After all, why would aliens put a sky banner over Asia telling them to learn English? And, of course, North Korea, like everyone else, blamed the lunar advertisement on America—in their mind, the second sky banner was just a more imposing variant of the lunar ad. Additionally, North Korean leadership must’ve seen the queen’s first broadcast, and were likely suspicious of her humanoid shape—why should an alien look human? So when the Kardashian ships entered the lower atmosphere, North Korea was preparing for war. The lunar ad, the second sky banner, and all those flying white phallic-shaped aircraft were all interpreted as invasive American propaganda meant to turn the will of the people against the North Korean government.
For hours, the Kardashian ships cruised over the surface of Earth, coming closer and closer to the ground as time passed. But, the pervasive procession of ships did not create worldwide panic. While survivalists prepared for the end of the world, most people were too shocked to panic.
Parents kept their kids home from school and most stayed home from work. Stock markets around the world curbed trading to quell volatility. The business of life slowed as governments around the world warned their citizens to keep calm and stay indoors, but everyone wanted to go outside and gawk at the invasion.
Their ships moved nothing like human aircraft, and their maneuverability was impossible by our understanding. They flew slow and low over populated areas, sometimes stopping completely in midair. In St. Louis, Missouri, a ten-mile-long ship crept under the Gateway Arch. In Paris, a ship coasted through the huge square hole in the middle of La Grande Arche De La Défense.
Throughout the world, ships of various sizes would creep under tall bridges, next to skyscrapers, and near national monuments. Their flight paths seemed more playful than intrusive, and it eased the shock. There was no trouble . . . until a squadron of alien ships flew low into North Korean airspace.
It was never entirely clear what happened. Chinese intelligence would later confirm what many immediately suspected: North Korea attacked first. Though the Kardashian ships were entirely unscathed, their retaliatory strike was insanely disproportionate.
North Korea launched ground-to-air missiles from Kaesong, a city close to the South Korean border, about thirty miles from Seoul, the capital of South Korea. For the Kardashians, it was guilt by proximity, and they used strategic overkill to send a message
“Why attack Seoul? South Korea wouldn’t attack them. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe they don’t know the difference between North and South Korea. I’m sorry, Markus, I don’t understand either,” Ralph said.
Rumors of the melting of Seoul swarmed for hours before confirmation. For the first time in a long time, there was no live footage of such a devastating event—because no one was alive to transmit it.
Being in a closed society, we could only assume Kaesong met the same fate as Seoul. There were no bombs, no lasers. Initially, it was unknown what weapons they used, but the answer was straight out of H. G. Wells. The buildings of Seoul were reduced to liquefied puddles of concrete and metal—millions of people exploded into flames and melted. Countless others would be lost in the following 8.5 magnitude earthquakes.
“How do you melt an entire city? How is that possible?” I asked.
“They used heat-rays,” Ralph said plainly.
“Heat-rays? You mean lasers?”
“No,” Ralph said softly, trying to be polite. “Lasers waste too much energy to be economical. They used something far more . . . efficient.”
“What?”
“Your scientists call it a ‘Fresnel lens.’ But humans don’t have ones this powerful.”
“You mean a goddamn magnifying glass?”
“A weaponized magnifying glass, yes, but not made of glass.”
Using concentric circles to focus light, the Fresnel lens is thinner, more lightweight, and much more powerful than a normal magnifying glass. And the Kardashian version was dreadfully more powerful than the human variety. “Heat from a Kardashian lens can reach up to 90,000 degrees Fahrenheit,” Ralph said.
“. . . It’s a death ray.”
“Yes, but it’s environmentally friendly.”
Ralph never revealed the intricacies of interstellar travel, but any such voyage must be energy efficient—so any weapons must also be efficient. A weaponized Fresnel lens was an optimal choice, because it only needs the power of a sun. Each Kardashian ship was equipped with multiple, oversized Fresnel lenses. So, as long as ships were within range of the sun, no city was safe. And there were always ships in range—there were still hundreds of ships outside Earth’s atmosphere—ready and able to focus the purest sunbeams into murderous rays of light. With enough ships in range, it was painfully clear how they could melt a full city.
The first sky banner hadn’t been up for more than 24 hours, and already the second sky banner had appeared over Asia, the Kardashian fleet had taken over the skies, and two cities had been eviscerated. Without losing pace, the third sky banner manifested over Europe. This was less than half an hour after the melting of Seoul. It wasn’t even night yet in DC.
The third sky banner appeared as an ancient scroll rolled up at both ends in the European night sky. It slowly unfurled to reveal the name and number of verses from the New Testament.
‘1 TIMOTHY 2:11–2:15’
Young Europeans rushed to the Internet as older Europeans rushed to their bookshelves to find the verses from Paul’s first letter to Timothy:
“Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet woman will be saved through bearing children, if she continues in faith and love and holiness, with modesty.”
Egalitarian Europe was deflated, while conservative Europeans applauded the sexist alien message. Both sides should have read the beginning of Timothy’s letter, which warns against bad teachers.
By the next day, thousands of conservative female teachers, police officers, soldiers, and doctors quit their jobs. They’d spend the next day rummaging their wardrobe for any clothing they considered immodest—to burn or destroy it. Symmetrically, ultraconservative men refused to deal with any woman in a position of authority—whether she was a doctor or a tollbooth worker. Attendance in churches, mosques, and synagogues increased dramatically right after.
This was just the beginning.
An hour after the European sky banner appeared, the Kardashians once again took over all television and radio broadcasts, replacing them with their own. Just like before, they blanked out the top 1,000 most popular websites to eliminate distraction. People started to call this KEBS—an acronym for the Kardashian Emergency Broadcast System. There was no countdown, just a minute or so of blank screen.
The time of the queen’s broadcast was 5:00 p.m., EST—twilight in DC.
“I’m sorry. I can’t watch this,” Ralph said as he picked up his puppy and ran out of the room. The other dog followed while Alice and Lieutenant Barber remained.
I stepped back when I saw her.
“Hello.”
The queen appeared in the same overly lit room, alone. Standing and not floating, she was clearly affected by gravity, which meant she was in one of the thousands of ships within Earth’s atmosphere.
“My people have enjoyed touring your beautiful world and seeing the sights. We have taken many photographs. We hope we did not disturb you.”
By not acknowledging the attacks on Seoul and Kaesong, she made me question them. There was a false but plausible rumor that North Korea had attacked Seoul in a confused act of retaliation. At this time little was certain.
“Over the next few hours, we will be landing our ships in major cities throughout your world. We want you to visit. Do not be shy.”
She scratched her lower belly erotically with her soft fingers. I looked at Alice and Lieutenant Barber. All I saw was mesmerization.
“I will be landing in a ship near your Washington, DC. I hope to talk to your American leaders and journalists. There will be a press conference tomorrow at noon,” she said as she looked away. After a grunting noise offscreen, she swiftly turned back to the camera.
“There will be refreshments,” she added.
She was done speaking, but there was one last message.
She looked off camera, cooed like a dove, and raised her arm out straight. This was a cue for something unexpected.
A large bald eagle flew onto her arm and faced the camera.
“What the hell?” Lieutenant Barber shouted, looking to me for explanation.
They must have caught this wild eagle, in midflight, while the queen’s ship flew low over North America. She pet the eagle’s neck firmly as the bird stared at the camera, while gripping her arm tight in its talons. When the eagle spread and flapped its wings for balance, she playfully did the same with her own wings and smirked.
The screen faded back to white, and normal broadcasting returned.
Up to then, the White House had been embarrassingly quiet. The only official response had been a short press release from the night before, an hour after the manifestation of the first sky banner. President McAllister had been scheduled to hold a press conference at 2:00 p.m., EST.
But the press conference didn’t happen at 2:00 p.m. Every time the president was ready, another unexpected event would happen. First, there was the Asian sky banner, then the invasion of the alien fleet, then the attacks on North and South Korea, then the European sky banner, and finally the queen’s broadcast—each event delaying the new president once again. But he could not delay any longer.
It was 5:40 p.m. in DC.
We had been watching Anderson Cooper interview an astrobiologist from SETI on CNN. Cooper had asked what SETI might learn from a species of sexist and homophobic aliens, when a breaking news announcement interrupted. Coverage switched to the White House Press Briefing Room in the West Wing.
President McAllister was introduced quickly by the press secretary and stepped to the podium. This was his first public appearance as the new president, and many applauded. I shuddered when I glimpsed Francis standing off to his left.
The former general spoke as if his audience was an organized regiment of soldiers.
“At approximately 3:45 p.m., Eastern Standard Time, the capital city of South Korea, one of our closest allies, was attacked and destroyed by an unknown force. The attack was completely unprovoked. And now, as I speak, we are undergoing an invasion from that same hostile force.”
He omitted that the enemy was alien—to him it didn’t matter who they were. I looked over at Lieutenant Barber and saw him standing at attention.
“The United States Congress, under Title 10 of the United States Code, has authorized all reserves in all divisions of the military to contact their commanding officers and report for duty.”
Of course, Congress was not in DC at the time. Following the Continuity of Operations Plan, all congressional officials had been relocated to a single, secret location. The secretaries of state, treasury, and others, as well as members of the Supreme Court, had also been relocated.
President McAllister insisted on addressing the American public from the White House. This was not arrogance: if people believed the president was safe in his house, they would believe they were safe in theirs.
“Let me be clear: America has been invaded. And make no mistake, these are enemy forces, and we are bound by duty to repel any invasion of the sovereign territory of the United States of America. Earlier, we had dismissed the enemy aircraft in our airspace as cultural naïveté, but when they attacked South Korea, they were no longer ignorant travelers. They became the enemy in our midst.”
American airspace had been violated all day. Though no shots were fired, we were already at war. I sensed no fear in McAllister. After all, the American military was the strongest human fighting force in the world.
“All enemy aircraft must permanently exit American airspace. They must begin their departure within the next half hour. Otherwise, they will be attacked with the full might of America’s military arsenal. God help us all if they do not heed this warning.”
The president glanced over briefly at Francis and continued.
“America will not surrender its tolerance to enemy propaganda. We will not return to the barbaric thinking of the past. We will not counterfeit the courage of our ancestors who fostered the greatest nation on Earth. We will not sacrifice our civility to anyone, no matter where they’re from. We will not surrender America’s soul without a fight, and we will defend our way of life with our lives.”
He gripped the edges of the podium and leaned in.
“And we will never surrender.”
Planes buzzed overhead as he spoke his last words. I rushed to the window to see the black triangles of stealth bombers in finger-four formation. Dwarfing the bombers from above were at least ten Kardashian ships cruising toward DC. Ralph’s house in Grasonville was just across the Chesapeake Bay, only fifty miles from DC.
Reporters shouted questions as the president ignored them and stepped away. The camera panned to the left, and I noticed the first person the president talked to was Francis.
I turned down the volume on the TV.
“Do you need to leave?” I asked Lieutenant Barber.
“The secretary of defense ordered me to protect all of you. I’m staying,” he said and then looked over at Ralph by the door. “Are we safe here?”
“No,” Ralph said. “Nowhere is safe.”
“You think they’ll attack?” I asked. “Why would they? You said—”
“I am not a fucking Kardashian,” Ralph said as his glow shifted red. “Under these circumstances, I don’t know what they’ll do. Your president just declared war on them, and they won’t let anyone interfere with their plans. They want to convert people—that’s why they won’t attack first, but if you prevent them—”
“Listen,” Alice said, turning up the volume on the TV.
An excited CNN correspondent was reporting from downtown DC. On the other half of the split-screen was a live shot of at least twenty Kardashian ships—all floating upward rapidly.
“As I hope you can tell,” the correspondent began, “the aliens are agreeing with the president’s demands and are flying up to exit American airspace.”
“Everyone get out of the house,” Ralph shouted.
All of us turned to him.
“Now,” Ralph yelled and grabbed my hand.
We rushed to the front door and dashed out. In the west, we could see the massive Kardashian ships, tiny from this distance, gliding straight up at a rate not possible for human aircraft.
“Where do we go?” Alice said.
“Over there,” Ralph said, pointing. “You see the cylinder on the lawn?”
Under the light of the sky banner, I saw it. I picked up Ralph and sprinted across the lawn. Halfway to the cylinder I looked back above DC, but the ships were already far above the clouds.
“Looks like they left,” Alice said before coughing.
“No. They just need a better angle,” Ralph said.
“What’s this cylinder?”
“It will protect us from the earthquakes.”
When we reached the five-foot tall cylinder, I paused to catch my breath.
Lieutenant Barber inspected the cylinder, but he knew what it was. With both hands, he pushed it over and it landed with a dull thu
mp on the grass. Then he jumped up and stomped the flat of his foot on its round shell, rolling it a few feet toward me. In the glow of Ralph’s body I read the upside-down words, ‘United States Navy,’ stenciled on the casing.
I looked at Ralph, and he touched my hand. His words from the Oval Office ran through my mind: I’d be embarrassed if you knew how much thought I’d put into this.
“What is this thing?” Alice asked.
“This is for over 100 people,” Lieutenant Barber said.
“I couldn’t know how many people might be with me,” Ralph said.
“How’d you get it?”
“Military surplus, the property manager bought it. Can you open it?”
The ground trembled as I looked westward to DC again and froze. Hundreds of beams of light shot down from the sky onto the capital over the horizon. Even from fifty miles away, we could see the rippling flash of explosions bursting through blooming mushrooms of smoke, miles above DC. I wondered if Samantha had vanished in that burning loss of human history.
The Kardashian ships never intended to leave. They only needed to get up higher, above the darkness of the night, to harness the sun’s destructive force and redirect it onto DC. My shock tumbled me to the ground, and I felt the Earth’s hectic vibrations.
“Open it,” Ralph barked at Lieutenant Barber. “Alice, help him.”
Lieutenant Barber and Alice got on their knees and unfastened the buckles on the cylinder. Inside was a 300-pound load of tightly rolled up plastic, and Lieutenant Barber dumped it all out.
“You are a very strange being, Ralph,” Lieutenant Barber said as he searched through the plastic.
“I didn’t know this would happen. It’s just one possibility I prepared for,” he said.
“This will protect us?” Alice asked.
“If the state of Maryland sinks into the Atlantic Ocean—Yes. Do you know how many fault lines there are around DC? Activate it already.”
“Activate what?” Alice said.
Lieutenant Barber found what he was looking for and said, “You’ll see once I press this button.”
The Book of Ralph Page 19
