It all started in what I like to call the broiler, a.k.a. southern Iraq, in an area once known as Mesopotamia. It was in that barren landscape that I and a group of archaeologists came upon a rather suspiciously lonely looking hill, more of a large mound I would say. We had started excavating as soon as the Iraqi government lifted their ban on archeological excavations. After years of careful digging, we dug down where we found an entrance to an upper chamber that led down to the heart of what we presume will be a ziggurat. In the lowest portion of the structure, we found what we named the Library of the Anunnaki, the collective name for the Sumerian gods. The library consisted of hundreds of stone tablets, most of them broken, some shattered, even to the point of dust. I found one large piece, rough in my hands, chipped, not without its damage. I blew it off and noticed it was written in cuneiform. The translation goes:

Origin………. Primitive species DNA spliced………. producing male child………. male children produced and raised to farm and………. production cumbersome………… remove Y………. first female child for reproduction presented to first male……… uprising………. Usurpers cast out of gardens and mines………. debauchery throughout………. murder………. war………. Meteor causing mass………. Fleeing planet, will return.

Obviously defaced, what I concluded from the text was that the text was not written by human hands. Rather, it was a document left for us by who early humans considered gods. It tells us that we originated from a primitive species (apes, or Cro-Magnon Man perhaps, maybe even some early form of homo sapiens) having their DNA spliced with that of an alien race, producing a child that we now call a human being. Given the success of the experiment, they created more, until they figured natural reproduction to be a viable process. These children grew up working on farms and in mines for the alien race. It goes on to say there was an uprising. Some were cast out where they lived wildly without law or rule. A lot of text is missing, but it goes on to explain the flood was caused by a meteor, probably crashing in the sea nearby. At that time, the aliens left, promising to return. My biggest question is, return to do what?

This tablet destroys god-centric religions, proving that we were created through the advanced science of an alien race, putting an end to ancient beliefs. It would also take away power from institutions such as the Catholic Papacy. Old traditions will die hard, but the word of God will no longer hold credence in the minds of the majority again. This is a world altering find. That is why I had it carbon dated for its legitimacy, taking it to an old friend.

Dr. Phillip Baker at Oxford University did some carbon dating. The tablet predates the Sumerian use of cuneiform for literary purposes by a thousand years. We realized then that it was truly an extraordinary find. While Phillip and I celebrated with the champagne he had been saving for such an occasion, men in black suits paid us a visit trying to seize the tablets. With a distraction made by Dr. Baker, I escaped out the back. From the hallway I heard shots fired. I knew my dear friend’s fate and feared it would be my own if I did not run. I assumed knowing what was on the tablet put my life in jeopardy. I was pursued by them and what looked like a private security detailed, armed, muscular men dressed in black. They chased me through the streets at high speed. I was scared out of my mind, even taking to the sidewalk to avoid stoplights. I made it to the airport where I evaded capture and caught a plane back to the states. The tablet is now hidden safely where no one will ever find it.

I still wanted answers. Why are they returning? When will they return? Why were they here in the first place? I knew of one place that had the answer. I put to use all my military training to sneak into the most heavily guarded military base in the US. I broke into Area 51. I’ll save you the details. It’s a process of inching through the desert dressed like a bush for three days, monitoring security patterns, cutting chain-link, and choking people out for their security badges and weapons, turning up loose ends, until finally I found what I was looking for – the Area 51 Library.

The library is a massive collection of written statements, voice recordings, pictures, videos, blueprints, documents on everyone who has claimed abduction or sighting, documentation of people who have been abducted or visited and have no recollection of it, and archeological evidence. The most disturbing artifact I found was a 1950’s recording of an alien being questioned under duress giving the same account on the tablet, filling in the gaps.

Apparently, there is another planet in our solar system that passes the sun every six thousand years. They survive in biodomes but require extra fuel and food that they get from earth when their planet gets within flying distance. The air on earth is toxic to them, so they wear suits, some wear armor over their suits resembling animals known to humans to strike fear in them. They have a spy station on the dark side of the moon where they operate out of one of their biodomes, watching us, occasionally experimenting on us, or coming down to replenish food.

The Alien went on to explain that they tried to quell the violence within humans, who murdered each other and started wars for territory, before the flood. As they watched on over the centuries, war and hate spread like wildfire across the land as humans flourished. They decided since humans still believed in gods, they would send them a representative from God.

He explained the insemination of Mary and the resurrection of the man we call Jesus – he was revived from a coma using advanced medical procedures and lifted up in a small spy shuttle under the cover of smoke. He is at the station now and will return with the others when the other planet draws near. His purpose was to teach people how to live peacefully, choosing people to carry on his work after he was gone, to spread it around the world. The alien said things didn’t go as planned, calling us wicked and violent. His final statement was that when the planet returns, those who fight will be destroyed and those who don’t will be enslaved.

Area 51 is only guarded by the US. They are not running it. I was discovered by a man with a heavy European accent and, of course, dressed in a black suit. I grabbed the recording and fought my way past him, then through three levels of private security before getting past the military detail on the outside. I’m sure these men know where I live. I’m taking a big risk contacting you, but the public deserves to know the truth. They need to prepare to fight the coming onslaught. So far, governments have kept everything a secret, selling off technologies like cellular communications and nuclear power. I have the recording safely hidden away with the tablet. I have the evidence if you want to proceed with the story.

To: J. Emmit Hardy

drdigit@gmail.com

Reply: anthropological finds linking past to the future

Dr. Hardy, I’ll be honest with you, if it weren’t for your credentials and the background check I ran on you, I would be telling you to take this to the tabloids. Since you are an esteemed professor of sound mind with a military background, I suppose your story warrants some attention. Meet me at Malone’s at noon on Thursday for lunch. They are usually busy so there should not be any scenes made in there if you are followed. Try not to be followed. Bring the evidence. Depending on it, we will see where we go from there.

———————————————————————————

When I saw Dr. Hardy walk into Malone’s that day, he was not what I was expecting. I was looking for an unshaved old man with wild hair acting a little erratically. No, this was your Indiana Jones type professor, middle aged, lean and sun kissed. Far from erratic, his eyes scanned the restaurant before approaching me with a duffle bag.

“Mr. Delaney?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Emmit Hardy. Glad you took the time to see me.”

His eyes missed no detail of what was going on around him. He was even checking reflections in the smallest objects to see behind him.

“Did you bring the evidence?”

The first thing he pulls out is an old reel-to-reel and lays it on the table as he goes for the next item in his bag.

“What am I going to do with that?”

“Listen to it.”

“I thought you would have recorded it on your cell phone.”

“I wasn’t about to take a cell phone into Area 51. You’re the news. Don’t you have a reel-to-reel player?”

“Well, yeah, back at the newsroom.”

“Here, check this out. Carefully.”

He displays a bundle of rags gentler than if it were a baby. He unwraps it to reveal the stone tablet, chipped and cracked with a series of markings on it that meant nothing to me.

“I’ll have to take your professional word on what that is. What I’m interested in is on that reel. But first, we eat.”

“I don’t think we have time for that, Frank. Be casual, but two guys in black suits and sunglasses just walked in.”

“Relax, guys in suits eat here all the time.”

“Not with security details. Let’s head out the back. Slowly, they haven’t made us yet.”

I thought Emmit might be schizophrenic, but when we got out to the alley, two guys were waiting with guns. Now, I would love to give you a play-by-play of what happened next, but it happened too fast. Somehow, Emmit managed to disarm and knock unconscious two men in a matter of seconds. He took their guns, putting one in his waistband.

“Can I have a gun?”

“No,” he chuckled.

We ran to the news building. When we got there, we were spotted by more guys in black suits and their security details. We took off in the other direction with them on our heels. I pulled out my cell and made a phone call.

“Susan, I need you to get those old duffle bags out of storage and five other people. Here is what I need you to do.”

Emmit and I took the long way to The Lincoln Memorial. There, we ran into six people with bags similar to the one Emmit was carrying. We all bumped and shoved, switching bags several times. When we were done mixing up the bags, some took cabs, some ran, some strolled. They grabbed Marcus and checked his bag, only to find gym clothes and a phone book. Later that night, Emmit and I met with Susan to retrieve the real bag. She asked what was going on, but all I could tell her was to read the morning’s paper.

Emmit was able to sneak me pass some of the men in black suits and their muscle so I could write up the story. I wrote frantically, the words flowing from my mind straight to the screen. I barely got it through pre-press in time to make the front page. I rushed it out to the printers myself. They were in the middle of putting on the plates that were supposed to run and were not thrilled about the last-minute change, but now people know where they came from and can prepare for the future.