The Daily Sendings

Written by Yao Wang from Union County Magnet High School, New Jersey, USA

“Everyone, log on to your-”

A hollow thud echoed off the walls, followed by a muffled expression of pain heard before the voice machine’s announcement: “Life form detected. Door opening.” 

An adolescent boy stepped into the room, his shirt stained with sweat and shame. 

“Sorry about that. I forgot they installed the new doors. Old habits die hard, right?” He stared into his teacher's unamused face. 

“Classroom Assistant, pull up ‘Sean Keaton’ attendance record.” The instructor’s tone was sharp – Sean knew all too well where this conversation headed. 

“Mrs. Hayfield, I’m really sorry, and I can totally explain-” The speaker system cut him off. 

“Keaton, Sean. Student number: 11431, enrolled in Alex J. Warren High School. Current class: Principles of the Fourth Dimension instructed by Lizzy Hayfield. Projecting ‘attendance record’.”

The room lit up with the holo-board's brightness, displaying Sean's calendar to the class. Each school day bore a glaring, red ‘T’ for tardy, and each Saturday carried the equally inevitable ‘D’... detention. Some students giggled, others snickered. Sean trudged to his seat, shoulders slumped, feet dragging. He knew a speech was coming; Mrs. Hayfield was too courteous to let him off without a second humiliation. 

“Mr. Keaton, AJW is the most exemplary secondary school in all of Freestate! Our test scores are the highest, we send the most kids to space pioneer programs, and most importantly, we have always had pristine student attendance records! That is, until last year when we were unfortunate enough to be graced by your arrival. Keep it up, and you’ll soon find yourself off this campus!” 

Her words would’ve brought most children to tears, but Sean had heard some variation of them from every teacher he’d ever had. He simply nodded and feigned sadness, hoping to avoid another detention. This was perhaps the longest he’d ever lasted with a free weekend. 

Mrs. Hayfield straightened her dress and continued on with the lesson. “As I was saying, please log on to your computers for the daily sendings.” 

Instinctively, each student flipped the switch beside their desk, opening the wooden veneer to reveal a shiny tablet underneath. 

Standing in the middle of the classroom, Mrs. Hayfield prepared to read from a piece of paper that had been wrinkled and stained countless times. 

“Mrs. Hayfield, why do we have to listen to the directions and watch the video every time we have the sendings? I mean, nothing’s ever gonna happen. Look at the other pages in the packet; none of ‘em has ever been touched before! They did this when my dad was a kid, so can’t we all just get this over with quicker?” Everyone turned to see who had spoken, only to find a bold, freckle-faced girl. 

“Well, Evie, what you’re saying is true. The schools have been doing the sendings for quite some time, and yes, we haven’t found anything yet. And yes, the other pages have never been touched before, but one lucky day, they will be.” 

“Mrs. Hayfield, what do the other pages even say?” This time, a boy from the back of the classroom asked. 

“I don’t know. We were instructed not to touch or look at them until we established first contact. Alright, let’s get to it! Classroom, play ‘Sendings Video’.”

As the film played, Sean leaned over to his friend Artie and whispered, “Sure, extraterrestrials. That’s never gonna happen, not in a million years! If I were an alien, I wouldn’t come to Earth if I knew Mrs. Hayfield was welcoming me.”

“Over there, no talking!” 

Sean leaned back into his seat, Mrs. Hayfield’s reprimands only reinforcing his beliefs. 

The screen now displayed the impeccable face of the Freestate president, his soothing smile showing off two rows of surgically implanted pearly whites. 

“Hello, students of our glorious nation. This is President Lamont speaking. I would just like to remind you that your actions play a direct and vital role in your future, our future, and Freestate’s future. If Freestate were able to contact extraterrestrial life first, we would have an ally with technology so advanced that we could use it to conquer the rest of the nations and establish ourselves as rulers of the human race. It is now time for your teachers to read out the instructions, and I wish you all luck in your sendings.” 

Mrs. Hayfield began reading the familiar words. 

“Students, please activate the tablets in your desk by stating the phrase, ‘Sendings time is now’.” 

A chorus of voices followed her command. 

“Now, select the ‘portal opener.’ This should take you to the main chat room. Every word you type there will be transmitted as a light photon at a precise speed and direction, so no corner of the solar system will be left uncontacted. Classroom Assistant, are all students in the chat room?” 

The reply came after a moment of processing. “Yes, Instructor Hayfield.”

Mrs. Hayfield continued: “Type in the chat box: ‘Hello, I am a species from another planet. Do you copy?’” 

The room was filled with the chatter of digital keyboard keys. Mrs. Hayfield placed the paper back on her desk, her palms now clammy and moist. Although she knew nothing would be discovered that day, the preparation behind it all made her nervous, yet strangely hopeful. 

“When the clock strikes the imminent minute, you are all to press the enter key. If there is a response, it will show up in the next minute or so. Good luck.” She sat back down on her chair, shifting through the day’s lesson plans. It would only be a matter of time before the sendings ended and the slightly disappointed students resumed normal class instruction. 

The clock’s second hand struck twelve, and the transmissions were sent. 

The room fell silent as the clock ticked the seconds away, one by one. Sean smirked at his classmates, glued to their screens. He decided to sneak a piece of nano-gum while the teacher wasn’t looking. 

When two minutes had passed, everyone closed their desks and retrieved their school materials. Sean sat contentedly in his chair, chewing away at the everlasting pineapple flavor. When he sat up to deactivate the tablet, he froze, gum perched on the tip of his tongue. 

Mrs. Hayfield sighed, tired of his antics. “Sean, close your tablet, please. I’m not going to ask again.” 

“Holy shit. Jesus fricking Christ! I…I got a response!” 

“Sure you did.” Artie leaned over and rolled his eyes at Sean. “Mrs. Hayfield, I’ll close his tablet so we can get on with the lesson.” But before he could flip the switch, he saw the second line of text on the screen. 

“What the hell? Mrs. Hayfield, Sean actually got a response!” Artie’s eyes widened, his fingers now shaking as he let go of the switch. 

“You two, it’s really not funny, okay? We still have to get through the entire Ostonian coordinate system before class ends.”

Some of the other children noticed, and soon the room was abuzz with exclamations of surprise and excitement. Kids who had stolen Sean’s backpack in grade school, beaten him up and stuffed him into lockers were now clapping him on the back and hugging him. 

“Mrs. Hayfield, read out the rest of the pages!” Evie called out. The teacher scurried over and yanked the packet out of their polished folder.

“Quiet! QUIET!” The room fell silent again. “‘If the hic-oh, pardon me. I’m just very flustered. Sorry. If the initial message is met with a response, please lock all doors and windows. No one is to leave the room, and no one is to enter.’ Well, we’ve done that already; now what? ‘Once the area is secured, please have the student read out the message.’ Mrs. Hayfield looked up at Sean. 

He cleared his throat. “‘Hello, I am a species from another planet. Do you copy?’ A bit strange, no? Same thing I said.” 

The teacher kept reading. “If the message is in English, have the student type in: ‘I am a human from the nation of Freestate on the planet of Earth. It is very nice to meet you. I will talk to you soon.’ Once the message is entered, deactivate the tablet immediately. Everyone who witnessed the event may not speak about it to anyone, including family. Those who break this law will be tried and put to death. You are to continue living your life as if nothing has happened. Destroy the first two pages of this packet. You will be allowed to read the final pages after a full 24 hours have passed.” 

Not a single student was late the following day, not even Sean. 

Mrs. Hayfield waited until all the students were in their seats, then locked the door and windows. Prancing towards her desk with glee, she picked up the remaining page and read its contents out loud.

“Have the student open up his/her tablet and check if there are any further messages. If there are, have them read it out.” Everyone looked at Sean impatiently. 

“It responded with: ‘It is very nice to meet you. I will talk to you soon.’ Weird, huh? Almost like it’s repeating after me.” The sea of anxious eyes now darted back to Mrs. Hayfield, who continued reading. 

“By touching the third page today, you activated its surface tension mechanism, which, through Classroom, sent a direct message to the President of Freestate. To hear the response, ask Classroom Assistant.” 

“Is that it? Where’s the rest?” Artie asked. 

“Nope, nothing.” She looked up from the paper: “Classroom Assistant, look for recorded messages with the terms ‘President’ or ‘Sendings’.” 

The system responded in its standard, mechanical voice. “Checking for recorded messages with identified terms. One message meeting requirements. Would you like me to read it aloud?”

“Yes, please.” 

“The message reads: ‘Hello, lucky students and teacher. I, President Lamont, have received word of the extraterrestrial response received in your classroom yesterday, and I would like to personally congratulate each and every one of you on such a grand achievement. I am currently traveling towards you all, but the journey is long and will take me seven days. I ask that you keep this a secret until I arrive, at which point it will become a national sensation, and you will all be rewarded with fame and fortune. Until then, you must resume regular teaching so as not to arouse suspicion. The child who sent the fortuitous message, however, is allowed to communicate further with the unknown in order to further pique their interest in our nation. Goodbye.” 

The next few days flew by for Sean. At first, the alien’s responses were short and terse, often repeating Sean’s words with little variation. After the first hundred messages or so, the creature began writing complete sentences and even giving somewhat ‘human’ responses to the questions. 

Four days before the president’s arrival, the alien asked its first question. Upon seeing the very simple ‘What are your hobbies?’ Sean jumped with elation, nearly breaking the tablet as he pounded out his response. 

You asked your first question! Good for you! I like to play 4-D games using my Nicron 3 headset. I’m learning about 4-D stuff at school, and it sucks! But when I’m playing in 4-D, it rocks! Can I ask you a difficult question? What's technology like for your species? Do you guys have cool blasters and stuff? 

The response came after a brief period of silence.

What is technology? What are blasters?

Sean hurriedly replied.

Technology is stuff that you use in life. I’m sure you guys have spaceships and stuff like that, right? Blasters are technology too; they shoot plasma. 

Another pause.

How do you make spaceships? How do you make blasters?

It was a strange question, but aliens probably weren’t accustomed to human conversation habits.

I don’t know, because we don’t have either of those things. I once read a comic book about aliens. It said they used this very rare substance called luminite as the foundation for everything. They built bases with it, engineered bulletproof spaceships. Best of all, they made this blaster that could destroy buildings with a single hit. Then, of course, they used the technology on humans and conquered the galaxy. When I was little, I used to think I could find luminite. I dug deep underground and tore up my backyard. But it’s not real, and I just made my parents really mad. Also, I forgot to tell you about one of my biggest hobbies. Eating food! I don’t know if you guys eat or anything, but Earth has a lot of good food. Pizza’s really great, and if you ever come here, you have to try a root beer float. Best thing ever. Hell, I’ll buy you one if you do come here.

The creature didn’t reply, not instantly at least. Sean gave it a while to think, but was surprised to find no response the next day. Or the one after that. The alien had simply stopped chatting. 

He decided to confess his situation to Artie, who likely wouldn’t judge him or reprimand him like Mrs. Hayfield or the other students. 

After hearing the news, Artie eased his fears. “It’s probably just busy with alien stuff. Plus, the president comes tomorrow, so don’t work yourself up.” 

The next morning, President Lamont donned a fake moustache and sunglasses and swapped his regular business attire for sweatpants and a hoodie. He then secretly slipped into Mrs. Hayfield’s classroom while no one was looking and greeted a very enthusiastic audience.

After the commotion had died down, he made an announcement. “I will release this story to all of Freestate in just a few moments. First, I need to check the chat room and ask the special child some questions. Where is he or she?” All fingers pointed at Sean, and he felt a lump form in his throat. 

The president walked over and began scrolling through Sean’s chat room. “Oh, this is all terrific stuff. You shared your interests with the creature and kept it talking. My, look at all this correspondence!” He finally turned to Sean: “Son, what’s your name?” 

“My name’s Sean. And, sir, that’s just the thing. It stopped talking to me four days ago. I’m sorry, Mr. President, I don’t know what I did wrong.” 

The president grasped Sean’s shoulder firmly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just preoccupied-” His words were cut off by a distant rumbling, akin to that of an engine. The noise grew gradually, and so did the vibration, until the ground shook with earthquake-like force. 

The president was quick to move. “Mrs. Hayfield, put the school on lockdown. I knew those damn bastards would do this! Sean, follow me.” 

Sean obeyed the orders, but with confusion. “Sir, what’s going on? Why can’t I stay in the school?” 

“Only a nuclear strike would explain all this; the damn Neocommies must have launched one! We need to get you in a safe bunker. You’re the first human ever to have contact with aliens!” As they pushed open the door, they were greeted by the source of the disturbance. 

“Hi, Sean. Hi, President Lamont. I promise I won’t take up much of your time. This is just for formalities.” The voice came from within the cargo department of a gargantuan spacecraft, outfitted with weapons and armor that neither of the humans had ever seen before. 

“Who…who are you?” Sean managed to stammer out. But then he realized he already knew the answer.  

Out walked a humanoid of sorts, tall and purple-complexioned. His hair was a silver-grey, and his ears were pointed and sharp. He opened his mouth to speak, revealing black fangs on either side of his jaw. 

“Well, who else could I be? Oh, and I must thank you for all the advice you’ve given me and my people. See, I learned from you, Sean. I didn’t know English until you taught me. You gave me hundreds of inputs, hundreds of opportunities to learn. You answered my questions with such detail. I was just a lowly transmission clerk, but you told me of wonders that I could never imagine, of weapons that could wreak havoc on societies. I rose to the top; I became king. I ruled over an empire that was once just a primitive village. All with the help of this.” He pulled out a green crystal, glowing at the tip. 

“Luminite.” Sean couldn’t believe it. How was this possible? “But luminite’s not real! And even if it was, you would need tons of it!” 

“Oh, perhaps it isn’t in your world, but in mine, it’s abundant. As for the pesky issue of time, one of our days equals ten of your years, so I found plenty of time to source luminite and build with it. Once I had assembled an invasion fleet equipped with luminite weapons, I set off for Earth, longing to see its wonders for myself.”

Sean tried to speak, but no words came out. President Lamont lay on the ground, immobile with fear. 

The alien grinned, its eyes glinting. “So, Sean, shall we get to that root beer float I was promised?”