[ TT ] An alien spacecraft has landed somewhere on Earth . When the door finally opens , a single alien emerges and is not at all what anyone expected .

To be chosen for this, to be selected for this, this *duty* to the human race, had seemed a signal honour. The first contact, the first to speak to another species, the first to see, to touch, to greet! There would only ever be one first time, and I had been chosen. I would speak for seven billion people, I would stand as ambassador for my very species. In those moments, I would be above kings, above gods. I would be humanity's outstretched hand. Nothing could be more prestigious a task. 
 
 Sand blasted my skin as we drove across the Sahara, stinging like a thousand hell-flies, and I made the mistake of yawning widely, receiving a mouthful of grit for my troubles. Nobody had thought to mention this part in the gloriously patriotic briefing. I was n't exactly surprised. 
 
 I spat a small dune over the side of the jeep as it bounced through the desert, grimacing into the wind through my purloined sunglasses and still getting blinded by the early-morning sun. Whose bright idea had it been to drive in from the west? I cracked my neck, yawning, and tried to concentrate on my memories of yesterday's briefing, vainly calling up the image of the air-conditioned government office thirty miles back west, remembering the caress of cool air and the words of the nervous scientists. 
 
 *'' As you know, of course, the ship landed a week ago. Well, fell, really. `` * I'd known indeed. Everybody in the Western Hemisphere had seen the fire in the sky, the slice of light that had carved its path across the heavens, flaring brighter than the sun. Then it had gone. The reports had started coming in minutes later, every amateur telescope and satellite operator in the world all shouting in a dozen languages, shouting the same thing: Spaceship! It had seemed like a joke for all of five minutes. Then all the governments had started releasing statements. 
 
 *'' The ship was found two days ago, after a concerted effort by world satellite owners to cover the entirety of the African continent. It was surprisingly hard to spot, being golden as it is, but then gold is effective at radiation deflection so it's a plausible hull material for an interstellar craft. `` * 
 
 One of the generals present, an Egyptian, had hurried the scientist along brusquely. The thin woman had swallowed nervously. 
 
 *'' Yes. Well, we found it. And now we're here to go and have a look. With our representative here. `` * She had gestured to me, and once again I squirmed uncomfortably under the eyes of the most powerful people in the world. Prime Ministers, Generals, Presidents, even the leaders of a few revolutionary cadres - everyone who was anyone was here, in this little office, rubbing shoulders with their worst enemies, and looking squarely at me. Me! A twenty-three year old Physics student from Droitwich, undernourished and limping from a sprained ankle! Quite why I'd been chosen, out of the global lottery that had taken place in hurried fashion ( with the aid of a half-dozen AI to do the calculations ) was beyond me. But the UN had agreed that, as it was impossible to choose from all the world leaders without snubbing somebody, and using a celebrity would just look like the pinnacle of consumerism, that it was best to simply choose an ordinary person at random. Therefore, me. A skinny Englishman in a borrowed army shirt, cooking gently under the fierce desert sun, on his way to shake hands with an alien. 
 
 The ship loomed suddenly, as I felt these things really ought to. From the golden dunes suddenly sprouted golden lines, sleek and smooth and *sharp*, like the pure, fundamental idea of aerodynamics given physical form, painted gold, and stood up on some stubby, industrial-looking landing legs. The last feature was a little out of place, but nobody else seemed to notice. I did my best to look suitably awed - which I was, in truth, somewhere in my mind. I was meant to be a physicist, was n't I? This would turn physics upside-down! But all I could think about was those terrible, construction-site hydraulics that poked out of the bottom of the ship. It was reassuring. Earth had n't exactly sent its finest champion. The aliens, whoever or whatever they were, clearly were n't perfect either. 
 
 Soldiers took up a carefully casual perimeter around the landed craft, bristling suddenly from the dunes like pointy, camouflaged ants. They did their best to loiter nervously beside their battered jeeps and tanks, naughty schoolchildren trying not to be caught smoking. This was the best compromise the armies of the world had managed to strike with the diplomats and scientists - an armed presence, but a... relaxed one. That was the word the NATO chiefs had used when they had firmly stated their final decision, ignoring a few dozen protests with that particular, calculated ignorance common only to policemen and soldiers. It was n't quite reassuring to me, as I stepped down from my battered steed, stretching sleep-cramped muscles, but it would have to do. 
 
 The lead scientist from earlier scurried over to me, looking even more out of place in the middle of the desert than I did, which was nice in a vindictive sort of way. She smiled apprehensively. 
 
 `` You remember what you're supposed to do?'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 A political suit crawled up on my other side, an odious little man who'd refused to leave me alone for the last week. 
 
 `` You remember the greeting protocols?'' 
 
 `` Yes, I remember the sodding greeting protocols. Anyone got a bottle of water?'' One was produced by the scientist. I sipped gratefully, then cleared my throat. I saluted up at the gaggle of world leaders who were occupying a blastproof ( and probably air-conditioned, the bastards ) sort of off-road bus thing atop a nearby dune. 
 
 `` Are the cameras rolling, or whatever?'' 
 
 `` Yes, but we still need to run the opening slates for the networks.'' This from a media man, even greasier than the politician. 
 
 `` Will it take long?'' The golden ship called to me, a siren song, scant yards away. I could reach out and touch it. 
 
 `` Five minutes.'' 
 
 I waited, unsettled, as a legion of men and machines dug in around me. Cameras began to film, their operators soaked with sweat already, with their attendant newsreaders introducing affairs in a dozen tongues. Soldiers idly scanned horizons, their guns carefully angled just slightly towards the ship. I needed a coffee. The sun was scalding me even through the thick cotton of the military shirt. Time passed. 
 
 `` Are they ready yet?'' 
 
 `` Give them time. A few connection issues.'' 
 
 I looked from the cameras, to the golden ship, to the soldiers, to the ship. Always to the ship. 
 
 `` Sod it, I'm going.'' What were they going to do, shoot me? 
 
 As I strode towards the gilded vessel, I heard shouts of alarm from behind me, but nobody tried to chase me, to stop me. I was the chosen one, after all. I recalled every ounce of formality I'd ever been taught in school or at home, straightening my back, squaring my jaw, removing my sunglasses, rolling up my sleeves. 
 
 This was it. 
 
 Inside that ship was the first intelligent non-human life we'd ever encountered. Inside that ship was an honest-to-God *alien! * And I, a ( very ) mortal man, had been handed the duty of saying hello. I might just be the doorman, the receptionist of humanity, but I was damned if I was n't going to do this properly. This was everything I'd never dreamed of, but always wanted. 
 
 Finding myself at the door of the ship, I looked up at its smooth golden surface, the same as the rest of the hull, but recessed. It was clearly a door. *Be embarrassing if they're some kind of phase-shifting light beings who do n't actually use doors, would n't it? * 
 
 Knowing nothing else to do, I knocked, thrice. 
 
 The door opened, sliding silently into the hull. Beyond it stood a slim figure, a silhouette against the interior lights, an enigma, a mystery. It was humanoid, at least, but all other features were obscured. I could feel the hush behind me, the silence of anticipation louder than bombs. 
 
 `` Um, hello.'' The words were out before I could stop them, before the drilled-in, over-formal greeting could manifest itself. *Screw it. * `` I'm Will. Nice to, um, meet you?'' I raised a hand, old instinct saving me. 
 
 The shadowy figure stepped forwards, features resolving as the desert light flared, its eyes screwing to a squint against the sun. Pale skin, dark hair, two ears, a nose once-broken, a mouth narrow, but smiling. A familiar face. My face. 
 
 `` Nice to meet you too,'' said the skinny physicist from Alpha Centauri to the skinny physicist from Droitwich. `` I'm, ah, also Will. Hi.'' 
 
 We shook hands, a mirror melding. 
 

