Illegal Aliens Read Online Free PDF

people are a First Contact Team similar to ourselves?”
    “Zero,” General Bronson interrupted hotly. “Because if they are, then they’re doing a damn poor job!”
    Behind his glass wall, Nicholi nodded in heartfelt agreement. It was true, the aliens must be either insane or fools. The status lights were crimson again, and his American CBW unit had just volunteered to do a suicide attack on the invaders.
    Irritably, the Russian general stretched out his cramped legs. Damn consoles were designed for midgets, he decided. Probably built that way to literally keep him on his toes. Ha!
    Mentally switching tracks, Nicholi wondered what the man in the street was doing. He knew there would be no trouble with his NATO troops. They were good soldiers, tried and true, the best. But what was the population of Earth doing right now? Laughing? Screaming? Running around in circles? Only Sir John knew the up-to-the-minute details, and he relayed his findings through Sigerson. Good or bad, Rajavur alone got the whole picture. With a loud buzz, the NATO hotline broke into his chain of thought and Nicholi resumed his more pressing work, deciding for the moment to forsake his attempt to out-guess Man, a thing that God himself had trouble doing. Not that he believed in such superstitious prattle, of course.
    Concurrently, Prof. Rajavur bowed his head in thought. If Courtney's preliminary report was correct, then the Earth was in terrible shape. What with most of humanity laughing, screaming, and running around in circles. Things could go from bad to worse when the aliens commenced broadcasting again in 47 minutes. But until then he must retain control.
    The diplomat suddenly noticed how quiet the bunker had become and clapped his hands together. “To work, people!” he cried, and the room bustled with activity.

THREE
    While the FCT prepared to investigate, study and defend, the population of the world reacted as it always has in times of trouble: inconsistently.
    TV reporters dashed out of their air conditioned buildings to buy a newspaper. Newspaper reporters hid in the bathroom and turned on the dreaded television. Survival groups, who had been patiently waiting for nuclear war, decided that this was good enough and went to their secret mountain shelters, taking their family, neighbors, pets and TV sets with them. Alcoholics swore off the sauce forever. Junkies ordered more of whatever it was they were taking. In California, Unitarians built, and then burned, a giant question mark. In New York, landlords with buildings overlooking Central Park put them up for sale, then changed their minds and instead, doubled the rent.
    The real-life landing of an alien spacecraft on Earth caused UFO clubs to disband, six science-fiction movies to be cancelled, and twelve more initiated. Video tapes battled it out with aspirins for record sales. History-making traffic jams clogged the arteries of the world's highways, as drivers: (A) parked their cars and ran for the hills, (B) drove for the hills, (C) fainted in their cars, bringing the unknown word gridlock to such places as Tasmania, Nova Scotia and Outer Mongolia.
    In the United States of America, the FAA ordered the nation's airways cleared of all traffic immediately. Every non-military plane in flight was given fifteen minutes of grace in which to find someplace, anyplace, in which to land. Helicopters dropped like stones straight to the ground. Small planes landed on any flat, open land: farms, parking lots, or football fields. One unfortunate 747, with time running low, was forced to make an emergency landing on an interstate highway. Gunning his engines to warn motorists of the approach, the jetliner swooped low over the roadway, neatly hopping over underpasses and a rest stop. With smoking tires the giant plane touched down and throttled to a squealing, roaring halt only meters away from a hastily evacuated toll booth. As a ragged cheer arose from the onlookers and passengers, some damn fool