By Shawn Snow
A barrage of questions followed. “Where are they from?” asked one reporter.
“What do they look like?” asked another.
The president raised his hand and the clamor stopped. “We don’t know where they are from,” he replied’ “but we do know what they look like.” At that point the giant screen, which had so far been showing battles with the aliens, changed to a video of an indescribably hideous creature, apparently in captivity. The crowd gasped, most had to turn away for a moment, and a few even threw up.
“We captured this one after it crash landed,” explained the president. “So far attempts at communication have failed, but these creatures are definitely hostile, and we still have no effective defense against them.”
Another barrage of questions followed and the press conference proceeded predictably after that.
“Good job Mr. President,” said Agent Shannigan. “You handled the press perfectly.”
“Thanks,” replied the president, “but I wish I could have told them everything.”
“It’s not your fault sir,” Shannigan responded. “If they knew we could translate the aliens language they’d want to know everything, and what we got from that alien transmission we intercepted would have caused a panic.”
“I suppose you’re right.” The president touched a button and the alien appeared on a screen. “Look at it Shannigan, it’s so diffirent from us. Thicker skin, differently jointed arms and legs, even an extra eye. It really makes you wonder what their planet is like. What must life be like on this planet . . . What do they call their planet again?”
Shannigan checked a document. “Earth, Sir,” he replied. “They call their planet Earth.”
