But this was a migration and if the communities were to succeed, they would have to take in everyone. At some point an agreement was made; a worker class would be needed, and they couldn’t wait for a generation of children to come of age. The compromise was to accept women, mothers, with the reasoning that they would sacrifice for their offspring and willingly join the community.
“To Earth, you mean?” Laura asked.
Francis nodded; he would try. “Yes. Laura, I know this all sounds strange to you, unbelievable even, but they have been here long before any of us. Your indigenous people probably felt the same when they saw the first white man. But, you shouldn’t fear them; they don’t consider themselves guests or invaders. In their eyes, this is not our planet. It is theirs. They have invested in it, and we are the guests.”
“Guests?” Laura asked, moving to the table with the kettle and two small cups.
Francis thought for a moment. “Guest is the wrong word. Children, maybe … or extended family left to occupy a residence. But they’re back now, and they aren’t happy with the way we’ve taken care of their home, the path we have taken. This was their planet and meant to be their home.”
She poured the hot water over a tea bag, filling the mug, and slid it across the table. Francis lifted it and teased the string, dunking the bag into the steaming liquid. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a cautious sip before setting it back in front of him. “They’ve been here many times—many, many times over the ages. They planted the seeds, passively guided us, kick-started our development, and tracked our progress. All the signs of their visits were there if people had bothered to look. They are much older than us, you know. Their written history dates back to before the dinosaurs.
“When they first visited, they found a place that is only a shell of what it is today. Over a thousand years ago they started the exodus plan with hopes that when their planet died, ours would be ready for their arrival; that our people and technology would be ready for them.”
“A thousand years ago?” Laura asked.
“That was what they call ‘the beginning’. The first time a Messenger stepped foot on our planet and chose to intervene in our development, they formed their first outpost in the depths of a cave and used it to explore and examine our ways. The Messengers found us to be violent and disgusting creatures. Earth was rejected by the council, and it was determined the planet was not ready for their arrival.
“This is why they first came to live among us. It was a small presence then; only a Messenger and a few guides to show us the way. A small human tribe was chosen and their leader given the truth. The first time they shared their message, they started a following that grew and spread quickly. That should have put us on the correct path to paradise; instead, our species resisted and failed to come together. Most of the populous rejected the message, and it led to wars with the tribes that failed to follow us.
“Don’t you understand? The Messengers guided us in the hope we would build a great society that they could one day join. They did not want to destroy us. However, we failed to evolve in time; we are still living as hundreds, even thousands, of tribes under many banners. The Creators have run out of time. Their planet is dying, and they can no longer wait for us to grow into a harmonious society. Now they have come to correct the wrongs of our way, and they will not stop until it is complete. Those that have taken witness have ensured this.”
“Witness? Why do you call them that?”
“They have been given the truth; it shows them the way and has made them genetically superior—”
“It kills them. I’ve seen what it does, it took away my friends and neighbors,” she blurted out.
“The truth saves them, improves everything about them, and brings them into the communal in a way we could never comprehend.”
Laura looked away, clenching a fist and watching the shadows pass by the kitchen windows. “Then why were we spared from it?”
“Every civilization must make sacrifices to advance; the witnesses made that sacrifice for us. They have been granted the true potential of our race. You think of them as dead, but they aren’t… they now live in full connection with the Creator,” Francis said, looking up at the ceiling. “One day, they will be far greater than any of us.”
Laura scowled. “Is this just religious indoctrination, an interstellar cult? All of this is sounding more and more like a galactic holy war.”
Maybe she wasn’t ready, he thought. “You mustn’t speak that way. It’s blasphemy.”
“Blasphemy? You know we won’t stop, that we won’t stop fighting—wait, of course, you do know, don’t you? That’s why you’ve separated us from our men.”
“The soldiers have declared your men dangerous. Your men attacked us,” Francis said with sincerity.
“Attacked? Who are you, Francis? How did they get you?”
Thunder cracked in the distance and rain began to tap against the roof. Francis grinned and leaned back in his chair. Maybe she understands more than she lets on. “I am not important. You shouldn’t think in the ways of individuals. It will only prevent you from seeing the truth. We are a community; we must do what’s good for the community.”
Laura bit her lower lip, ignoring his statement. “Where the hell are you from? They’ve been here less than a week, yet you talk like you’ve known them your entire life.”
Francis grinned, thinking to his first days in the community as a child; a day when he was extracted from the burning rubble of a bombed city, tanks rumbling in the distance. How the Messengers took him in and showed him the
