Alternate Perceptions Magazine, October 2021
Terra Exodus [Fictional Story]
by: Daniel Erickson
What if you were offered a ride on a spaceship?
I really enjoy getting together with friends and discussing “what if'' scenarios. I often find that the most typical SciFi stories are really a disguised social issue. The offer for a ride on a spaceship is a fascinating example. Let's pretend a saucer ship lands in your backyard, that you're as comfortable with this event as seeing a greyhound bus stop on the street. The driver, who looks normal, makes you an offer. “Come aboard and I'll take you sightseeing. Meet the crew, share a meal and we can have a good time.” Now, you are a suspicious person, you don't get offers like this and while these folks are strange, and have a strange craft, there always seems to be a catch of some kind. So you ask, “How long will I be gone?” The driver says, “Well that is the hard part. We are touring the system and will return here again in 400 years. Besides, you may see a place you like and want to stay there instead of returning here.” With this information you realize you cannot go with them because you have friends and family, responsibilities, debts, a job and people who will miss you if you leave. The driver, being telepathic, then says to you, “I understand you have attachments and cannot just up and leave on short notice, I'll contact the next craft which will be here in seven years to stop here and look for you. Consider the offer and you are welcome to take as many guests as you want.” With that then the door closes and they are gone.
This encounter starts you thinking. Wow, what an offer! I'll get my life in order so I can go on this trip. Over the next several years you pay off your debts, sell off and reduce all things you don't need. Then most importantly you share the best part of yourself with the people you love. You forgive all the petty differences. You unburden yourself from things that separate you from having free and meaningful relationships. In doing these things you find a freedom that you must share with others so you can teach. You travel the world seeing the sites so you can have these experiences before you leave. You see how beautiful this garden called Earth is. In this process, you share with your closest friends the knowledge that a ship is coming and if they want they can come along. Those who believe you start doing the same things you are doing. They lighten their load, they forgive and give love. But the secret of your offer does not stay a secret for long. Soon those who are not ready want to come along. People who want to escape their debts, who aren’t able to forgive, those who are broken, hateful and desperate demand a place on the ship. “Why?” They say “should you leave us behind?” Then a person with terminal cancer hears about your offer and comes to you saying, “I want you to take me so I can be healed. How can you take your friends and not take me.” Then a person you knew from High School comes to you and says, “I want to go.” But you know this person is addicted to drugs. So you say, “You have got to get yourself clean to go.” They say, “You didn't make the offer. They did. Who are you to judge me!”
At this point you see this is out of control. You have suddenly been cast in the role of Moses or Noah! What you thought was a simple trip on a tour bus has turned into an exodus of the planet. Do you resign the role by denying the initial experience? In this case no, but you proceed more quietly. Anyone who asks you about going you say yes. If they want to go there are no conditions. It is their responsibility to be prepared for the possibility to leave.
Finally, the day arrives and you gather in the field. Those who have determination, curiosity and desperation have all shown up to see the event. The ship arrives and you see the driver at the door. You and a few others walk toward the entrance. You see several people go onboard but you notice most people are looking puzzled. “Why are you walking over there?” someone asks. “Well obviously,” you say, “because that is where the door is located. Come along if you're going!” You then see a few more folks follow you but they stop. Some are on their knees sobbing. Some are very mad. You turn and approach them asking “why did you stop? Why are you crying?” One lady says, “I can't go on. I feel unworthy. The feelings of love are too intense. If I get any closer I'll burst.” The other person says, “How dare you play recordings of these voices pointing out my faults and my regrets.” Perplexed, I say “There is no one here judging you. No one is saying anything. We are in a field. It is just us, the craft, the wind and the grass.” Indignant she storms off yelling that you are a liar and she never wants to see you again.
I look over my shoulder and the craft door is still open. I walk to the door and enter into a brilliant light. I ask the driver why he is stopping these people from entering the ship. He says he is not stopping them; they are stopping themselves. They are judging themselves. “They can't see the ship because they cannot even comprehend the possibility of it existing. There is no fault on their part; they are just not ready. When they are ready, a ship will be here for them.” The next moment, I am standing in the field looking at the sky seeing a little dot of light fade into the darkness. One of the folks near me says. “I guess your saucer isn't going to show up, like you said.” Then another voice says, “Yeah we've been here for hours and there is nothing happening!” I say, “Well you've had a good night of stargazing.” Just vaguely remembering a ship like a fading dream it is now at the edge of consciousness. “I'm getting cold and hungry. You're welcomed to stay but I'm heading home to get some sleep. See you at the next meeting.”
My takeaway from this story was that neither I, nor should anyone else, try to stop people from joining these adventures. If someone finds out about a gathering then they can attend. It is my experience that if you are meant to be there you will be prepared. If you are ready to go then you will go. For the rest of us still here on Earth; we are left to marvel at the mystery.
