WE HAVE COME FOR YOUR WOMEN

“We have come for your women,” said the alien emissary.

It was tall and lanky with limbs disturbingly spindly. Humanoid but hairless with large solid black eyes and skin a sickly pale green riddled with deep blue veins that appeared to slowly shift configuration. Its mouth was lipless and ran vertically from just below the eyes to almost the tip of the chin. It wore long robes of crimson.

The gathered leaders of the world (or what remained) gasped. This was the first time they had met the aliens face to face. Only nine days earlier, they had arrived in orbit in their massive crafts, hundreds of ships. Earth had reached out, trying in anyway to communicate. But after twenty-four hours the aliens had attacked without any warning.

Large of rocks, that the aliens had cut from the moon, were shot from kinetic accelerators, striking all across the globe. The choice of target confounded military leaders. Some made sense, symbolically at least. The White House. The Kremlin. Buckingham Palace. Others were more confusing. Sears Tower. The Taj Mahal. Mount Rusher. The Eiffel Tower. Burj Dubai. Disneyworld and Disneyland. Millions died in the first night, not just from the attacks but the panic that followed.

Missiles were launched and within seconds were cut from the sky by beams of blue light that sliced through the clouds. The same blue beams began to dicethe wings any airplanes in the sky. And then ship at sea. And then vehicles on the roads. For one two hour period on the third day, the blue lights began to hit every red and blue vehicle, be it military or civilian, from baby blue U.N. APVs to racing red Honda Accords. The lights danced upon the globe avoiding anything that was not red or blue.

The military bases of the world seemed to be left relatively untouched at first. Then there was an almost subsonic hum at Camp Pendleton and with in minutes the marines there began to attack each other using what ever weapon was closest to them. This spread across the world for half a day and then ended as suddenly as it began.

On the fourth day, the aliens began to land. They descended on spiky black ships, spiny spiders of obsidian. Each the size of a ten story building, they strode through the streets on five taloned legs that cratered the ground with every step. Rag tag groups of humans all over the world attempted to fight them off, but their weapons were useless. The black walkers seemed to toy with them, remaining unmoving, absorbing a dozen hits by shoulder launched rockets and tank cannon shells, before suddenly into movement, chasing down every single person who had hit them.

On the sixth day, the attacks all stopped and the aliens had broadcast a message. “We wish to meet with your leaders. You may travel freely for three days.” Coordinates were given in the Gobi Desert. The people of Earth, what remained of their governments, knew they had no choice. The aliens weren't specific so anyone who thought of themselves as a “leader” and couple arrange travel went.

The aliens had built a giant amphitheater in the desert, plain and utilitarian. A fifty thousand humans sat to hear their fate.

“We have come from your women,” the alien said.

Gasps and screams and murmurs and howls and shouts and crying followed. The alien, aloe in the center of the amphitheater waited unmoving. Eventually he touched his long fingers to the podium and a sub-hum cascaded through the humans forcing them to clutch their heads in pain. The hum passed and the alien pointed to one man near the front. “Ask your questions.”

The man stood, nervous to be the speaker for Earth. But he pulled himself together.

“Our women? Why? To experiment? As slaves? Or to breed with them? Is that it? Or as slaves? Or food?”

The alien pulled back in what was clearly shock.

“What? Experiment? Do we look like scientists? Have you not seen our behavior since we got here? And do you really think we'd have sex with you guys? That is just gross. And eat? That's sick.”

The alien leaned forward, his hand on the sides of the podium. “No. See, we're all guys. Do you know what it is like when it is all guys for an extended period of time. Things get out of hand. I mean, look at the last week! We just start breaking stuff. Everything becomes a... I believe the human phrase is 'pissing contest.' We're sorry about all that. We had been on a bender and things got out of hand. Sorry about being such, who do you say, douche bags Seriously, without some female influence we're just going to get in more trouble. Look, we don't wanna force anyone to come with us. We just don't want to be jerks.”