Dangerous Evolution

After that, he made a trip to the all you can eat seafood buffet where perhaps he overdid it a bit, he reached down to loosen his belt and unsnap his pants to make himself more comfortable. He was looking forward to getting back home to his new wife, Kristen. Actually they had been married nearly a year now, but things were going so well that they still felt like newlyweds. Recently, they had been kicking around the idea of starting a family, but there was no hurry for that. He was just barely thirty-two and she would turn twenty-eight in just a few short weeks. For now, they were content to enjoy each other's company without the added responsibility of children. That would come in its own good time.

Further up the road, Richards tossed the remains of his cigarette out the window. It exploded into a flurry of sparkling embers as it hit the ground and tumbled off into the dusty ditch at the shoulder of the pin-straight road. Suddenly, the menthol smooth stylings of Willie Nelson were replaced by annoying static. Richards frowned, rolled his eyes, and let out an exasperated groan as he reached down to tune the radio for the third time in as many minutes. "Damn radio! What the hell's the matter with you now!" he grumbled to himself. The radio suddenly went dead and a frigid chill gripped Bill Richards as his breath became visible without the aid of his ever-present cigarette, and the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end. Far above, a hazy black, featureless form obscured the stars from the sky nearly half a square mile in area. A low-pitched rumble filled the air, and then the 350 rocket engine went silent as the "check engine" and oil lights flickered to life and the car started to slow. Still oblivious of the ominous form hanging like a ghost in the still night air directly over him, Bill Richards began cursing and beating his fists against the dashboard of his car as it slowly rolled to a halt on the side of the lonely road.

Without warning, an intense spear of sparkling, ice-blue light shot from the center of the menacing craft as every bit of its surface erupted to life with thousands of flashing lights covering every color of the spectrum. As the dagger of radiance impaled Bill Richards' car and engulfed him in blinding brilliance, he could feel an invisible force gripping him tightly. Snowflakes formed in the air around him as the temperature inside this cone of light dropped precipitously. He tried to cry out, but this unseen power held him too tightly to even breathe, let alone scream. His eyes bulged wide and his heart was seized in terror as his paralyzed body trembled uncontrollably in the freezing air.

Ron Clarke slammed on his brakes and skidded diagonally to a halt in the dead center of the dark highway as he beheld the unbelievable spectacle unfolding before him. Given the vast number of stars which must have planets about them, he had always held that intelligent life must exist elsewhere in the universe simply as a mathematical certainty, but that the stories of alien visitations were little more than urban legends. Yet, here was something that shook his concepts of life and reality to their very foundations. He was terrified beyond words, yet his desire for the truth would not let him flee. He gazed up at the craft, which was now suspended motionless in the Nevada sky perhaps five hundred feet or so above the desert floor.