For many years, since even before the idea of rockets and interplanetary travel had blossomed in the human mind, humans had expected that aliens would come from the sky. Perhaps they would simply crash into the Earth, as if part of a carelessly aimed meteorite shower, only to emerge unscathed, and ready to conquer. Maybe they would descend angel like from the heavens, or maybe they would arrive in saucer shaped ships, accompanied by indestructible, metal robots. It might even be that they would place the enormous, silent hull of the interstellar spaceship between the Earth and Sun, blocking out the life force of sunlight from the Earth below, demonstrating their awesome power and demanding subjugation of humanity. In the end though, they arrived without fanfare, indeed without any disturbance at all, at number 33, Acacia Avenue, Penge, London SE20 43D.

    Bill and Edie had lived in Penge for more than 50 years. They had met when Bill, a broadcast engineer for the BBC and a keen radio amateur had visited the annual Radio Society of Great Britain MegaJumble at Crystal Palace. Edie had been serving teas in the canteen. Immediately smitten, Bill asked her what she was doing after work, and they were inseparable after they danced the night away, at the Streatham Ballroom. They rarely ventured outside South London, happy to explore the vast country of their own relationship, rather than take holidays in Marbella or Disneyworld. Somehow although Bill had a nagging feeling that perhaps Penge was not truly at the centre of the Universe, that they should be on the move, seeking out new and exotic places, he never felt the need to actually physically go very far at all. They both saw themselves as Londoners through and through. As Edie often said, and Bill nodded in agreement: Why travel the world, when the all the world can be found on the streets of London?

    But now, in their retirement, Bill sat in the shed at the end of their garden in Acacia Avenue, amazing himself with the exotic places he could travel to on the internet. Then, maybe after an early supper of fish fingers and peas, or perhaps later, after their regular dose of Eastenders, he would describe to Edie the wonders of where he had been. In this way they visited many strange and exotic places such as Nagarro, a now empty village in a remote valley in Japan where the population had largely died out, only to be replaced by more than three hundred life sized cloth dolls, carefully staged in lifelike poses in the school, houses, at the bus stop and even working the fields; a village in Giethoorn in Holland but entirely on small peat islands and connected over canals and footpaths by nearly two hundred rustic wooden bridges; the Minangkabau in Western Sumatra, where four million people form the largest matriarchal society in the world, and ancestral land, houses and property is owned by the women and passed exclusively from mothers to daughters. Although Edie had never caught the bus to anywhere further away than Croydon, and Bill had rarely had to go further than Television Centre in west London, they knew more about the cultures, ethnic variations, religions, morals, politics and economics of the world than anyone else in Acacia Avenue, and no doubt, the rest of Penge. It was perhaps not a surprise then, that when the aliens came, they chose to make contact with Bill and Edie rather than any of the other people on the planet.

    At first, Bill did not believe it. And he said so to, Edie:

    “You know, Edie, I don’t believe it.”

    They were in the shed at the bottom of their garden, where Bill spent much of his evenings, tinkering with various electronic gadgets, and where he kept his amateur radio kit. Edie had strict ideas about keeping a neat and tidy house, so the possibility of a dropped soldering iron on a Wilton carpet was something that must be avoided. They never had children, so there was none of the usual family clutter either. Edie did have a lifelong love of exotic cats. It was her way of travelling the world - first a Persian, then a blue-grey Russian, a Siamese and a Japanese bob tail, a shaggy Maine Coone and even a Norwegian Forest cat. But these never seemed to cause any household disorder - their habits being particularly refined. Edie often said, Cats were so particular, so clean, so dignified compared to the slobbering, dumb love of a dog that they just another member of the family and Bill agreed with her, not just because she was his Edie and he almost invariably agreed with her, but because liked the idea that a cat had an almost inexhaustible supply of lives - well nine at least.

    So, it was in only Bill’s shed that any mild household anarchy was allowed. Naturally, he had a couple of computers there, one of which was currently in pieces, awaiting a replacement part, another thing that apparently could be reborn multiple times. In the corner was a half completed electronic console that was not so lucky. Started back in 1987, when Bill had been keen on Kraftwerk, it had then gradually been abandoned after he became seduced by the commercialism of The Human League, Eurythmics and even Pet Shop Boys. Edie had not approved of any of these musical diversions and eventually they returned to their fascination with the disco music of the 70s and the console was never completed.

    Edie was sitting at Bill’s desk, with the computer directly in front of her. Bill stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder, running his finger quite unnecessarily across the words on the screen, while she good-humouredly tolerated his careful enunciation of the message:

Greetings. We journey from the planet Zog, a place very much like Earth, in the habitable zone of Wolf 1069, a red dwarf star only 31 light hears from Earth. You can see this star in the constellation that humans call Cygnus. We represent the Interstellar Union and seek a bonded union to trade with our brethren across the Galaxy.

    Bill looked at Edie. And Edie looked at Bill.

    ‘How can that be?’ asked Edie. ‘How can aliens possibly get into the internet?’

    Bill, who knew quite a bit about internet protocols, and even knew what TCPIP stood for, just looked blank.

    ‘No way. That’s not possible at all. Every internet packet has a destination address and a source address. And the source is always a computer somewhere on Earth. No way the internet highway routers would allow anything in from anywhere else….’ His voice gradually faded away though, as a new message appeared on the screen…

    

UIufoajufaq890q5u-hafio&*&-7-iafiufpihfeaph

    Bill looked at Edie. And Edie looked at Bill.

    ‘It’s the code word’, they both said together.

    Together, they unzipped their skins and emerged in their true cat bodies. In the dead of night, they quietly left their house, their stay-at-home existence now irrevocably over. Gleefully, but quietly, they made the short trip to Crystal Palace, to climb the giant TV mast, and where they would send their welcome signal to the incoming ships.

(1204 words)

Previous version:

For many years, since even before the idea of rockets, and interplanetary travel had blossomed in the human mind, it had been expected that aliens would come from the sky. Maybe they would descend angel like from the heavens, or maybe they would arrive in saucer shaped ships, accompanied by indestructible, metal robots. Maybe they would simply crash into the Earth, as if part of a carelessly aimed meteorite shower. Maybe they would place the enormous, silent hull of the interstellar spaceship between the Earth and Sun, blocking out the life force of sunlight from the Earth below, simply to demonstrate their awesome power. In the end though, they arrived without fanfare, indeed without any disturbance at all, at number 33, Acacia Avenue, Penge, London SE20 43D.

   Bill and Edie had lived in Penge for more than 50 years. Then had met when Bill, a broadcast engineer for the BBC and a keen radio amateur visited the annual Radio Society of Great Britain MegaJumble at Crystal Palace. Edie had been serving teas in the canteen. Immediately smitten, Bill asked her what she was doing after work, and they were inseparable after they danced the night away, at the Streatham Ballroom. They never ventured outside South London, happy to explore the vast country of their own relationship, rather than take holidays in Marbella or Disneyworld. But now, in their retirement, Bill sat in the shed at the end of their garden in Acacia Avenue, amazing himself with the exotic places he could travel to on the internet. Then, maybe after an early supper of fishfingers and peas, or perhaps later, after their regular dose of Eastenders, he would describe to Edie the wonders of where he had been. In this way they visited many strange and exotic places such as Nagarro, a now empty village in a remote valley in Japan where the population Nagara largely died out, only to be replaced by more than three hundred life sized cloth dolls, placed in lifelike poses in the school, houses, at the bus stop and even working the fields; a village in Giethoorn in Holland but entirely on small peat islands and connected over canals and footpaths by nearly two hundred rustic wooden bridges; the Minangkabau in Western Sumatra, where four million people form the largest matriarchal society in the world, and ancestral land, houses and property is owned by the women and passed exclusively from mothers to daughters. Although Edie had never caught the bus to anywhere further away than Croydon, and Bill had rarely had to go further than Television Centre in west London, they knew more about the cultures, ethnic variations, religions, morals, politics and economics of the world than anyone else in Acacia Avenue, and no doubt, the rest of Penge. It was perhaps not a surprise then that, when the aliens came, they chose to make contact with Bill and Edie rather than any of the other people on the planet.

   At first, Bill did not believe it. And he said so to, Edie:

   “You know, Edie, I don’t believe it.”

They were in the shed at the bottom of their garden. Edie likeed to keep the house neat and tidy, so Bill had built a shed, where he could tinker with various electronic gadgets, and keep his amateur radio kit. Naturally, he had a couple of computers as well, and in the corner was a half completed electronic console, started back in 1987, when Bill had been keen on Kraftwerk and then gradually became seduced by the commercialism of The Human League and even Eurythmics. Edie had not approved and eventually they returned to their fascination with the disco music of the 70s and the console was never completed. Edie sat at Bill’s desk, with the computer directly in front of her. Bill stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder, running his finger quite unnecessarily across the words on the screen:

    Greetings. We are an alien race, just 31 years from Earth. Our planet os very much like Earth, and is in the habitable zone of Wolf 1069, a red dwarf star only 31 light hears from Earth. You can see our star in the constellation you call Cygnus.

    Bill looked at Edie. And Edie looked at Bill.

    ‘How can that be?’ asked Edie. ‘How can aliens possibly get into the internet?’

    Bill, who knew quite a bit about internet protocols, and even knew what TCPIP stood for, just looked blank.

    ‘No way. That’s not possible at all. Every internet packet has a destination address and a source address. And the source is always computer somewhere on Earth. No way the internet highway routers would allow anything in from anywhere else….’ His voice gradually faded away though, as a new message appeared on the screen…

     UIufoajufaq890q5u-hafio&*&-7-iafiufpihfeaph

Bill looked at Edie. And Edie looked at Bill.

   ‘It’s the code word’, they both said together.

    Together, they unzipped their skins and emerged in their true reptilian bodies. In the dead of night, they quietly left their house, their stay-at-home existence now irrevocably over. Gleefully, but quietly, they made the short trip to Crystal Palace, to climb the giant TV mast there, and where they would send their welcome signal to the incoming armada.