One Giant Leap

By Kayla E. Green

“Once upon a time” is how the inhabitants of Earth begin their tales. But we are not Earthlings, and this is not a story of fiction. Gather ‘round as I recount how Moonfolk first encountered these aliens and how cunning and wit kept our world safe.

It was an ordinary day. Children were at school in the lunar craters. Adults were busy working in the mines or churning moon cheese. But everything halted with one broadcast.

An unidentified flying object had made contact with Moonfolk Intergalactic Communications. Some, mostly children, were curious about the visitors. Yet, the adults were either apprehensive of an unplanned guest or irritated about the halt of productivity. Citizens were instructed to remain underground until the situation was resolved.

“This is Major Jylnar of the Moonfolk Command. Identify yourself and your business.” The leader of the Peacekeepers stood resolutely at the communications center. Major Jylnar was a brave, towering native—seven-and-a-half inches tall—with skin as rough and gray as our beloved soil, like all Moonfolk. His bloodline had served the Board of Elites for generations to prevent Moon involvement in active battle.

“Greetings, Major. This is Major General Michael Collins, Command Module Pilot of Apollo 11, flying on behalf of the United States of America.”

“Stand by.”

After a few minutes, Major Jylnar explained, “The Board of Elites have cleared you for landing.”

A primitive vessel touched down, lacking even the most basic particle transfer beams and intergalactic translators. The ship, which resembled a deformed lunar spider, expelled two creatures, who appeared large and swollen in their protective suits.

“Major Collins?” called Major Jylnar.

The two Earthlings moved with slow, stiff steps. “Major Jylnar?”

“We are down here.”

The visitors shifted to look around but said nothing.

“Down here! Look at the surface,” directed the Major.

“Oh!” He jolted but recovered with a salute. “Collins is aboard. I am Commander Neil Armstrong, here to negotiate on behalf of the United States government. “This is our pilot, Colonel Buzz Aldrin.”

Marked by the beige robes of the Board of Elites, the five government leaders closed ranks with the Major and his Peacekeeper troops.

“We received your transmission some time ago,” stated Elite Xandara. “It seems your people are in danger. Though the Moon is not known to engage in intergalactic relations outside of trade, we will allow you to explain your plight.”

“On our planet, tensions are high. Small, remote battles litter the world. And there is a great threat to our way of life, freedom, and democracy,” said the Earthling commander.

Xandara’s face remained passive—not that the giants would have seen it clearly. “The Moonfolk are a people of peace. We do not engage in war or assist others in violent endeavors. Nor do we offer any technological or financial assistance in the name of war. What do you request of us?”

The Earthing paused for a moment. “It’s my country’s hope to sign an agreement with the Moonfolk for acceptance of American refugees, if or when our world’s Cold War turns nuclear.”

The Board of Elites pulled their heads together. Elite Qilzar whispered, “If they destroy their own world, they will inevitably destroy our world, too. Moonfolk have known peace because peace is what we preach and practice.”

“I concur,” said Elite Draxan. “Our founding Board warned of embroiling ourselves in intergalactic affairs. Just look at what happened to the Plutonians when they tried to aid the rebels of the Andromeda Galaxy!”

“We want to keep the communist threat at bay by preventing its influence in space,” Armstrong continued. “We do not want the innocent to suffer, ours or yours.”

“One moment,” called Qilzar. He conferred in hushed tones with his fellow board members, “Earthling ideologies have no influence here. If we get involved with any foreign entity now, our millennia of tranquility will surely suffer. But perhaps there is a way to use our moon cheese to our advantage and keep these Earthlings, and their propensity for war, away from our home.”

The others grinned knowingly.

To the commander, Xandara called, “We have conditions of our own before moving forward. First, knowledge of our existence is to remain guarded. We also desire protection from your communist enemies.

“Second, we will allow you to leave behind a mark of your home on our soil as a generational reminder of today.

“Lastly, you will take samples of our galaxy-renowned moon cheese to share with your leadership. This will be a good faith measure before we finalize a treaty.”

“Thank you, representative of the Moonfolk. From this day forward, you will be remembered as Earth’s champions of freedom,” declared Armstrong.

Qilzar chuckled, and I’m sure my face revealed something was afoot. But those giants couldn’t see us plainly from so far away.

Moon cheese and oxygen do not mix. In fact, our delicacy turns into a memory-wiping agent when exposed to the gas, ensuring the Earthlings would forget we ever existed.

Oblivious in their naivete, Armstrong and his pilot set up a primitive device to record their planting of the American flag with their citizens. “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

And that’s how the great Moonfolk kept peace after the Earthlings arrived. Their flag still stands, reminding us of the importance of neutrality. May they never again have to leap here on behalf of their kind.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kayla E. Green is an author, poet, and queso aficionado. When she isn’t writing, reading, or spending time with her family, she loves singing loudly and off-key to K-LOVE Radio and pretending she’s a unicorn. She has written an award-winning YA fantasy novella, Aivan: The One Truth, and an inspirational poetry collection, Metamorphosis. Kayla also has stories and poems featured in various anthologies and contest-winning stories published with Clean Fiction Magazine and online with WOW! Women on Writing.

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