Our Mission Field Is Earth

 

            I was born into the Minnow clan. Think of Samurai family structure. I didn’t choose my path. It was there waiting before my birth, or even the births of my family members for multitudes of generations.
            The Minnow clan operates on planet Earth as it is known, in the system of Sol, also as it is known on Earth. I speak as natives of Earth do, as my training has prepared me to do. The reason that Minnows deal with Earth is because our originating home is physically compatible with Earth, so we can operate there with a minimum of adjustments. No surgeries required, thank the One! We Minnows appear very nearly human.
            We are called Minnows, a word from English, because we are slippery, light and obscure. Our goal is to be subversive and unknown. Unseen. Nothing to pay attention to, on this riotous planet.
            Our mission field is Earth, exclusively.

***

            It was midnight and very dark.  The big harvesting machine with headlights burning into the mist drove at a steady 25 mph down the country road. Coming at last upon the coordinates of a low plain unmarked building, it slowed to a crawl and then paused. There was almost no other traffic at this time of night in this remote location, but one sedan passed the big machine, going in the opposite direction at an even 50 mph.
            Once the sedan’s lights were no long visible there was activity, if anyone had been there to see it. The harvesting machine went dark as it stood there on the narrow roadway. Two dim figures descended from the cab. They carried no lights. One walked twenty feet behind the first, constantly looking behind and around. Monitoring. The first figure approached the dark installation. He paused, consulting some mechanism he brought up near his face.
            Seeming satisfied, he proceeded.
            Behind the building, on the side facing flat fields of wheat, there was a door made of metal with no window or opening of any kind, not even for a doorknob, nor any signage, not even a “private-keep out” sign. The first figure touched the door’s locking mechanism, it released, and the door slowly opened. The first figure slipped inside, followed in a moment by his spotter.
            Inside the facility it was dark also, except for an open doorway about thirty feet down the hall. A bluish light filled that opening. Looking like shadows the two figures approached the blue lit doorway. Standing back, reading the mechanism again, the first figure learned that there were two persons in the room. One was their objective, the other was some sort of medical staff person, but not a physician. Maybe a nurse on night shift. She wasn’t wide awake, but she wasn’t fully asleep either. A book had slipped from her hand, laying in her lap. Her brunette hair fell down in front of her face. When she woke she would be very distressed.
            No.1 put her into a temporary deep sleep, by means of certain wavelengths. They had maybe ten minutes before she began to be aware.
            The subject of this operation was lying naked on a metal gurney of some sort. He had some sensors stuck on his body in various places, and an IV installed. His clothing and shoes were under the gurney. His name was Brian Campbell. He was 42 years old. Sandy with freckles and built like a soldier possibly. He was unconscious.
            No. 2 removed the IV quickly and neatly. He sealed the small wound with a touch of his finger. He removed the electrical sensors, pulling out some hair in the process. Once Brian was unencumbered by this equipment, No.1 piled his clothing onto his stomach, forgetting his shoes in the rush.
            No.1 put a hand on Brian’s forehead, and he floated quietly up off of the gurney, just enough to clear the surface. Both figures left the room with Brian floating between them, while the nurse slept on. Silently, they left by means of the same back door, then relocking it. Then they retreated down the short driveway to the street, Brian between them, still sleeping. No. 2 doing his spotting routine the whole time.
            Out on old route 11 their ship waited; disguise gone. Dark and low, it appeared vague, insubstantial. It was about the size of a city bus, but lower, and shaped as if worn by water or wind. It was not symmetrical, but not too far off of that either.  It looked organic.
            A long port on the side facing the building slipped open. No. 1 stepped inside. He turned to watch Brian float in behind him. No.2, after a quick scanning of the area, hopped inside the ship and the port slid shut.
            The ship, showing no lights or any identifying markings, lifted silently up a couple hundred feet, and then it just wasn’t there.
            Brian must have lived right. He was lucky. When he awoke he was near home on the slope of a rural hillside. He looked like he had hastily dressed in the dark and he was barefoot. He was sore, but not injured. He had some odd partial memories of swimming, or maybe floating in the dark.
            He didn’t know what had happened to him, but he could see his house from the spot where he woke. He homed right on to that familiar destination, walking in a slightly dazed state to his own front door. It was locked but he had his keys in his pocket right where they normally were.
            “Brian?” his wife said, coming into the front room. “Where have you been?  Why are you barefoot? I was terrified, Brian!” She stood, with tears running down her face, imploring him.
            “I don’t know,” he said.