The Event

HM Cuello

Prologue

In 2010, Stephen Hawking made a chilling observation. He cautioned that superior extraterrestrial civilizations could arrive on Earth—not as friends-but as conquerors to exploit our resources and enslave our citizens. As an example, he pointed to how Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the Americas did not end well for the Indigenous people.

2051: The Result

My name is Chris Harris, a cop who didn’t drink the Kool-Aid. I’m writing this from a jail cell because I refused to lob tear gas and fire upon my neighbors.

I haven’t seen the sun or tasted meat since they dragged me into this dark, dingy dungeon. I haven’t smelled fresh air in years. When I wake, I breathe in a lungful of sweat, urine, and human waste. I imagine that’s what human misery smells like.

I’ve been arrested on vague charges under our Overlords’ laws, which I don’t even understand. I fear I may be here for the rest of my life; if I’m not shipped to a labor colony on their home planet. Worst case, I’ll be recycled and my heat value recovered for their factories. There is no habeas corpus or lawyers now. No rule of law as we knew it before the Event. We’re living in the most extreme dystopian nightmare.

I hear their hypnotic call-to-order sirens, so I must kneel and recite the compulsory incantations they forced on us; or face a beating by the guards. Some fellow prisoners feel it’s better to self-flagellate; that hurts less.

I often wonder how we got to the point of giving up all our rights to those we sought to help. We extended a helping hand, and they literally cut it off.

2049: The Event

It started with a message from outer space.

The message, in an alien language, took a month for our advanced Noam Chomsky-derived AI system to translate. It was passed on to the US President, who called an emergency meeting at the UN.

As he stood before the assembled representatives, a wave of anxiety washed over him. Should he reveal the message? What would be the consequences?

Finally, he began:

“Welcome, my fellow members. I know you’re anxious to hear the important information I will now share. As your intelligence services have alerted you, we received a message a month ago at the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico. It was a response to a message Carl Sagan and his colleagues sent in 1974 to the globular cluster Messier 13. They didn’t expect a reply—but it came 75 years later.”

Rumors swirled that the message was a call for surrender. “I’m here to tell you it is not,” the president said. “It is a call for help.”

The assembly stirred; some shouted for details. He shushed them and read the message:

“This message is from a planet whose name we couldn’t translate.” He paused and continued: “We received your signal and must respond. Our planet is dying, and we need to regenerate it. We request asylum for approximately 20 million of our citizens on your planet. We have studied your world and find it suitable for our survival. Our first transfer ship, carrying 500,000, is 60 Earth days from your location. We will contact you soon to arrange the transfer.”

It took 30 days to translate, so they would arrive in 30 days. We had no choice. We couldn't stop it.

The assembly erupted in chaos.

Worldwide panic, triggered by news leaks, spread as people grew scared and wary. Many welcoming countries offered to resettle the asylum-seekers, now called the “Newcomers.”

Budgets swelled and taxes rose to accommodate them. Dissenters were silenced, often imprisoned, for opposing new rules and levies.

Riots broke out, swiftly crushed by militarized UN forces when local police refused to fire on their own citizens. I was among those refusing. 

Thirty days later, a gleaming spaceship appeared, its silver hull blazing in full sunlight.

UN Meeting: 5 Days After Arrival

Once all the welcome celebrations ended and the initial batch of Newcomers had disembarked, they were given membership in the UN and a seat on the Security Council. All the news stations around the world prepared to televise the first address by their newly recognized ambassador.

He approached the dais to thundering applause.

“Thank you for opening your arms to us. But let me be clear. We are an advanced race. Our technology is light-years ahead of yours. As such, we feel the best course of action is not for us to assimilate, but for you to join us—not as equals-but as subjects.”

The assembled ambassadors began to object loudly and complain.

He held up a hand. A curtain opened, and everyone saw the US President in a cage. All went silent. The message was clear: nothing more needed to be said.

“We have discussed this with the Secretary-General, and he agrees that this is the best case for you; it will avoid a large amount of bloodshed and destruction.”

Some members fled the assembly in fear. Others just sunk in their seats. 

“He has given control of all UN peacekeepers and other personnel to us. All the other UN members can join us or face the consequences. We have preemptively disabled all your nuclear weapons, and your AI systems are now controlled by us.”

“You will follow our laws, and we will allow you to exist. If you choose not to, you will be dealt with swiftly.”

Compliance with the new Overlords spread across the globe like wildfire. Even religious leaders reluctantly agreed.

I could not see the broadcast from my cell, but I heard it as the guards watched it at their station.

A month later, news broadcasts reported a 120% spike in suicides, a 150% surge in crime, and a 225% rise in inflation as food shortages fueled hoarding. Faith crumbled too—church attendance plummeted 95%.

You Say You Want a Revolution

It's now 2051, after two years, I still refuse to yield. My personal conditions have not improved. It’s as if they are using me to see how much misery a human can tolerate.

I have heard things through the prison grapevine: the world as we knew it no longer exists. There are no more governments. There are no religions—only the new Overlords.. Those who didn’t comply have been wiped clean. The Philippines, which was the last holdout, has finally fallen-overrun by UN forces.

We should’ve heeded Hawking’s warning.

A month later, the grapevine was active again.
There was some news.
From a cell down from mine, a note was passed on the crinkled remnants of a brown paper bag.

The anonymous note writer stated that there had been uprisings reported in Europe, China, Russia, and Iran. The fire has been lit. Here, our plan is to overpower the guards, raid the armory and start our own fire. Details to follow.

After reading and scarfing down the note, I thought back to an old Beatles lyric, “You say you want a Revolution. Well, you know...”
You can count me in.