It was 9:00 on a Thursday evening. Nothing was on T.V., it looked like rain in the morning, and a glowing green cube had just crash landed four meters away from Alice Carter’s driveway.
She’d been grading a stack of spelling tests when it happened. Taking a look outside, Alice calmly sipped her tea and took stock of the situation. It was about the size of an industrial strength freezer, smoking, and had left a small crater around itself. And, again: glowing and green.
This was not her problem. Not remotely. There were people who dealt with things that came from the sky into tiny English villages, and she did not want any contact with those people. She drew her curtains shut, and waited for someone to call the police.
Half an hour later, and nothing. Forty five minutes later, and nothing. Looking more put-off than anything else, Alice got up and put on her housecoat. She grabbed a flashlight and a tazer from her closet and went outside. Leaving about a meter between herself and the cube, she looked from side to side, sighing.
“No one’s impressed by this, you know.”
She was talking to a space cube. Sure.