Silent Horizons

BEGINNING

They came in the night.

Silent as shadows, landing with practiced finesse. Their ships like insects, locking their legs into Earth's defenseless soil. Not a sound to be heard but an eerily similar buzzing noise like that of a swarm of bees. Once their claws were in the ground, the buzzing stopped, leaving silence. Like a switch had been flicked off, the noise stopped in an instant. Silence so profound, one could be unaware that the Earth had just been captured. Yet, the glaringly obvious ships made the silence impossible to ignore. Enormous vessels, their carapace glinting in the sun. Hundreds of ships, appearing out of seemingly thin air, landing around the entire globe.

It wasn't like in the movies. They did not land in the big cities. They landed in the national parks and in farmer's fields. In rural wide-open land, they stood there like some livestock peacefully grazing in a field. The vessel doors did not explode out with hundreds of trained alien soldiers, armed to the teeth and ready to wreak havoc upon the poor defenseless humans. No. They took their time.

Seven days to be exact.

At first, humanity did not know what to do. How does one prepare for an extraterrestrial invasion? If one were to expect an invasion, one is supposed to be prepared for a war. Or at the very least some sort of interaction with the Other. Humankind was not prepared for this. Few could say that they expected Earth's invasion to involve complete silence and lack of interaction.

So, they did what you would expect. On the first day, they sent drones to take photos and assess these behemoth vessels. The photos and videos did not add much more to what could already be seen by the naked eye. They were gigantic round silver objects with eight claw like legs. They looked like spiders or beetles. Or ticks if you really want to be properly accurate. Like giant silver parasitic ticks, latched on to the earth like a host body, refusing to leave. This said, if one were to look at it objectively, these ships were truly magnificent. Smooth silver orbs, resting peacefully in the open expanse of Earth's plains.

Honestly, they weren't really that threatening. Aside from the fact that they did not come from Earth, they were a marvel of engineering. Once the drones shot at them and it was deemed that no response was forthcoming, they decided to interact with the uninvited guests. Government officials, scientists, and the general hubbub of humans deemed important in society tried their chance at interacting with these strange visitors. They went to what was thought to be the front exit (the one thing they were right about) and tried various tactics. Some commanded the visitors showed themselves, some offered gifts, some threatened nuclear strikes, and others cowered in fear. Nothing worked, nothing changed. For all it was known these vessels were empty.

But they were not.

On the fourth day, the buzzing resumed. At a low volume, barely perceptible at first. But as the days progressed, the noise increased. Every day it got louder, and louder, and louder, and louder. Till one had to yell to speak above the noise if they were within a thirty-kilometer radius. News reporters milled around the ships, keeping the masses informed. "Nothing new today" they'd say, "nothing more to report", and "we are doing all that we can". The most common line was "stay home till officials say it is safe to leave, trust in the government. They will keep you safe". They all watched the news, steeped in anticipatory terror. Looking back on it now, it is surprising there wasn't more action from the people. Instead, they listened like sheep and waited in silence while the buzzing grew louder.

Then, on the seventh day, the buzzing stopped. Suddenly. Like someone unplugged the microphone mid-speech. Then the doors opened, and they came.

Nothing could've prepared humanity for what came forth.