The beautiful blue and cloudy face of Earth while rising above it can be an inspiring and uplifting experience, and in this dream some are lucky enough to live in that layer that lies within the protective embrace of the earth's magnetic bubble, and above the clouds. Real estate is limited more by what flies by than by space alone. Certain corridors are left open for traffic. Ships land on the platforms that dot various locations with differing altitudes and orbit.
I was rising up in a defense vessel large enough to hold three men. We rendezvoused with other vessels perhaps a quarter of the distance between the earth and the moon; also valuable real estate.
When we reached our parking position somewhat close to the rear of our fleet we could see ships in the distance that didn’t look like ours. These other ships were arrayed before us aligned in a Cartesian pattern holding their position. It reminded me of two ancient phalanxes of hoplites facing each other on a plain.
The opposing ships reminded me of the round shields the hoplites used. They were a perfect flattened sphere shape with no sharp edges except for the edge of the shield. There were no bumps or lines any kind on their perfect skin. You could make out constellations reflected in their mirrored surface.
We waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time; there seemed to be too many ships for them to have a peaceful purpose.
The defense forces of the world were hastily gathered and in position in front of the intruders. We held our collective breath, and below us the world waited to discover our collective fate.
A grid made of light beams was emitted from beneath those perfectly mirrored hulls and formed a floor under every ship present. It resembled netting, or chain link fence. You could imagine someone walking on it.
Orange figures emerged through the hulls of the ships; in the distance they looked human, but as they worked their way through the fleet you could see how strange they looked. They seemed to glow a dull orange. They resembled humans like some cartoon drawing, capturing the overall size and shape but getting the detail wrong. No fingers, the head more a bullet shaped protuberance with vertical lines placed on the head and torso for esthetic appeal; a caricature of us.
They worked their way from ship to ship in our line, and we could see them enter the ships in the rank before us; simply walking through the hull of each of our craft in an unhurried and businesslike manner.
Although we were seeing what was going on around our ship on the outside, we were frozen when one emerged through the wall into our little craft. It methodically began murdering us with a hatchet shaped weapon.
My thought was that this was awfully primitive way to be attacked by such a sophisticated enemy. When it was my turn he hit me in the chest and I went down; but just before I lost consciousness, I looked to see what his face looked like and was surprised to see that he didn’t have one.
