Chapter 2

After the Great Debate of 1920, astronomers on Earth slowly began to accept that Edwin Hubble, a former star high school athlete, University of Chicago law student, and Rhodes scholar, was probably right when he claimed that there was more to the universe than the Milky Way Galaxy. Based on observations he made using the Hooker Telescope at the Mount Wilson Observatory in California during 1922 and 1923, Hubble challenged the established understanding of astronomy when he published his findings in the New York Times in 1924. Initially, the leading astronomers of the day were reluctant to accept Hubble’s conclusions that certain nebulae were not, in fact, within the Milky Way.

A few years after Hubble proved that other galaxies existed, he used observations of the redshift phenomenon to argue that some galaxies were moving away from Earth, demonstrating in the process that the universe was expanding. In 2014, Earth’s astronomers predicted that there are approximately 100 billion galaxies in the observable universe, which is that portion of the universe that can be observed from our vantage point in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way. In 2017, based on observations made by the Hubble Space Telescope since it was launched in 1990, the estimate of the total number of galaxies in the observable universe climbed to over 2 trillion.

With a diameter somewhere between 100,00 and 200,000 light-years, the Milky Way Galaxy is a barred-spiral type galaxy with somewhere between 100 billion and a half trillion stars, and well over 100 billion planets. The Earth and its Solar System are located in the Orion Arm, about 26,000 light-years from the supermassive black hole at the Galactic Center, which astronomers named Sagittarius A. The oldest stars in the Milky Way are thought to be almost as old as the universe itself, somewhere between 12 and 16 billion years. The age of Earth’s Sun is estimated to be approximately 4.6 billion years. Earth’s age is somewhere around 4.5 billion years.

Single cell life forms first appeared on Earth approximately 2.1 billion years ago. Animal life forms appeared approximately 1.5 billion years after that, or 590 million years ago. Mammals first appeared about 220 million years ago. Primates appeared about 140 million years after the first mammals, or 80 million years ago. Hominids first appeared approximately 28 million years ago, and the first proto-humans appeared 5.8 million years ago. Anatomically modern humans appeared 200,000 years ago. Humans have continued to evolve since.

By 30,000 B.C.E., Cro-Magnon man had spread out of Africa to the Near East and Europe, hunting, gathering, and painting cave walls. By 10,000 B.C.E., humans had reached the southern tip of South America. Clay pottery appeared around 18,000 B.C.E. The Neolithic Revolution and an agricultural mode of living appeared in the Middle East’s Fertile Crescent near 8,000 B.C.E. Beer was first brewed around 6,000 B.C.E., and the first settled societies appeared about 500 years later. The wheel was invented in approximately 4,000 B.C.E., and proto-writing first appeared around 3,400 B.C.E. The first legal code was developed around 900 years later, in 2,500 B.C.E. Empires were built and empires collapsed.

{Begin transmission 004}

Ok, let me start with an apology. I was upset, and I was probably a bit harsh during my last message. I do that sometimes. Sorry. I’ll try to behave myself.

I had my first visit from one of The Old Ones, a dude referred to around here as The Counselor. I don’t actually know if The Counselor is a he or a she or something in between, or if it even matters. The Counselor shattered my understanding of just about everything, and I flew a few miles past freaked out. It’s still a lot to process, but I’m trying.

First things first, though. The Counselor didn’t use one of those translator devices I mentioned before. The Counselor is a telepath. I heard he/she/it inside my head. It’s practically impossible to describe what’s that like, but I’ll make an attempt. As soon as I thought of something to say, a voice reverberated in my head with a reply. The Counselor could somehow tell what I was thinking as I was thinking it. Nothing I had ever encountered prepared me for that. I couldn’t believe it at first. I thought I must have been hallucinating. I figured I was probably right when I woke up that first day and thought somebody dosed me with LSD. I must have been having the longest, most intense acid trip ever. That had to be it, right? People don’t really wake up on alien planets, talk with gorilla-pigs, see walking palm trees, or hear the voices of tall blue humanoids in their heads. The thing is, though, this trip wasn’t wearing off. After a couple weeks, this hallucination was getting stronger and stranger.

The Counselor told me I was not hallucinating. Well, told isn’t the right verb, but I don’t know what the right verb is. The Counselor somehow convinced me there was a voice speaking to me, and I could hear that voice, but The Counselor’s mouth never moved. It’s kind of like a ventriloquist act, and I’m the puppet, I guess, but not really. Does any of this make sense? Probably not. Still, I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining it. If I am making it up, then I managed to convince myself that I wasn’t. Anyway, that’s just the first thing that freaked me out.

The second thing that tripped me out is that I had to get used to the idea that I couldn’t hide anything. I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t think one thing and say another. The Counselor knew everything already. Lying or acting brave when all I truly wanted to do was run – that was all a complete waste of time. The Counselor was very patient with me, though. The Counselor had done this sort of thing before and knew the ropes. I’d seen enough sci-fi movies and read enough comic books that I thought I knew how telepathy would work if it was a real thing. Well, I was wrong. It was a lot more intense and personal. I felt violated, actually. Somebody, or some thing, was crawling around inside my head without my permission, and I didn’t know how it worked, or how to make it stop. The Counselor knew that, too. I’ve had conversations with myself in my head before, and this wasn’t really like that, either. This telepathy thing was just about the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced. In a way, it was even more intimate than sex. There was no escape, no pretending, no censoring, and no lying. It’s taking me a while to adjust. Everything seems different now. The Counselor knew it would.

I gradually came to the conclusion that I should be grateful The Counselor was so patient with me. If The Counselor had been impatient or forced me to adjust faster than I was prepared to, I’m not sure how well I could have handled it. It probably would not have gone well. I’m pretty sure The Counselor knew that, but I can’t read The Counselor’s thoughts. Telepathy seems to be a one-way street, at least for me. He/she/it can read me like an open book, but I don’t even know how to spell, if you catch my drift.

My curiosity eventually got the better of me. I had so many questions at the same time I could barely form them in my head, much less try to ask them coherently. The Counselor told me it would be best if we took it slowly, so we did. Even though The Counselor could hear my thoughts, he/she/it suggested that I speak my questions out loud before he/she/it answered. I asked why. The Counselor told me it was wise to use the form of dialog that I was most comfortable with until I became accustomed to this new mode of communication, and that this adjustment took time. I asked if I would learn to read The Counselor’s thoughts like it could read mine. I’m not sure why I asked that question. Bravado, maybe. A stubborn competitive streak, probably. The Counselor told me it was highly unlikely, but that strange new things happened all the time. I had to laugh at that one. I couldn’t tell if it was a joke, though, or whether The Counselor intended to make me laugh. The Counselor seemed quite serious, but also completely tranquil. How do you figure out an alien’s sense of humor anyway? This was all very strange and new.

I asked why they chose me. The Counselor told me that his species had not chosen me, another one had. Who grabbed me, then? The Counselor told me that I would not be able to pronounce or decipher the name of this species, so he/she/it would have to translate their name by describing them in terms I would understand. That made sense to me. What’s the use of using a language I would never be able to write, pronounce, or translate? “Is that why the gorilla-pigs call you The Old Ones?” I asked. The Counselor told me that was an accurate description. The Counselor’s species was the oldest remaining advanced intelligence in our galaxy, he/she/it “said.” What does that mean? Were there older ones at some point? Who were they? What happened? I had a whole battery of new questions to ask. I was told there would be time to discuss everything later. The history of the Milky Way was vast, but yes, there had been others who were as old as The Old Ones, some had been even older, but they were now extinct. A chill went down my spine. I couldn’t help it. I wondered if The Old Ones had exterminated them. I didn’t mean to think that out loud, but I did. I was told it was complicated and best addressed at another time.

Ok, if The Old Ones didn’t grab me, then who did? Why? I was told I might know them as gods. I might know them as devils. They were another species from another part of the galaxy, younger than The Old Ones, but more intimately involved with life on Earth. What should I call them? The most accurate terms were either gods or tricksters or pranksters. It took a while to sink in. You mean to tell me they’re gods? Which gods? Gods plural? If they’re gods, what are The Old Ones? What does this mean? The Counselor explained that this species had appeared to various human civilizations in various guises at various times. Throughout history, this species had been most frequently described by humans as gods. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the Norse, the Mayans, the Aztecs, the Japanese, the Chinese, the Indians, the Native Americans, and all the rest. They had all encountered the same alien species. Mind blown again. Those gods were actually real? Yes. Was this a joke? No. It seemed like it had to be a prank. For a second or two, I imagined that I must be on one of those hidden camera shows. I was being pranked, right? No, I wasn’t. I decided this species could only be described in one way that made any sense to me. They’re The Pranksters. The Counselor agreed that this would be an appropriate descriptor.

Why me? I was told The Pranksters have their own motives. They were hedonists. They loved games and jokes and music and stories. The Counselor said The Pranksters had been monitoring Earth for several millennia, and had taken a particularly intense interest in humans lately. The Pranksters had been analyzing the development of our communications and entertainment systems over the last century. The Pranksters had also been collecting their favorite entertainers from Earth. It made no sense. What could that possibly have to do with me? I couldn’t sing, and I was no performer. The Counselor suggested that The Pranksters were fond of some of the shows I had edited. These alien jokers kidnapped me because I had worked on one of the most popular alien invasion films of all time, “The Invaders.” What the fuck?

I’ve run out of time again. I’ll continue as soon as I get another chance. I’ve barely scratched the surface, people.

{End transmission 004}

Next Chapter: What Just Happened And How Was It Possible?