[ WP ] Arthur C. Clarke said that `` Two possibilities exist : either we are alone in the universe or we are not . Both are equally terrifying . '' What he did n't know is that there is a third possibility ...

`` Sir, we need you to come with us.'' The man in the Homburg hat had said. 
 
 Rain pattered down continually in the darkness of my lawn just behind him, and my sleep addled brain struggled to comprehend his request. I had always prided myself on my relative intelligence, but at two in the morning my brain felt like a car trying to ascend a hill from a dead stop and it was just reaching second gear. 
 
 The man on my porch had said `` Agent Jones'' by way of greeting, and his accomplice standing there beside him on my unlit porch had n't even bothered with an introduction. This was the entirety of our conversation before his immediate demand that I go with him. 
 
 `` Why? Who are you?'' I asked groggily, although I could feel my brain churning through yet another gear, and I was already feeling more awake. A couple of unexpected visitors in the dead of night can have that effect I suppose. 
 
 `` I am Agent Jones sir. This is Agent Johnson.'' the man replied, with a flourish of a badge in a small leather case and a nod to his cohort. Even in the dim light I could make out the initials'DHS' embossed on the inside of that case. 
 
 `` We would like you to come with us immediately, please, Professor.'' Agent Jones stated. While his words were cordial it was clear from his tone that there would be no argument, no dissuasion possible. It concerned me a great deal. 
 
 `` What do you want?'' I asked obstinately, already guessing the answer. I had time to reflect that the question was most likely rhetorical as my brain slid another gear and I began to feel more like myself. The rain was now coming down in sheets and I could feel the cold November wind pulling at my robe as I stood in the door. I clutched it a little tighter around myself. 
 
 `` We want you to come with us'' Agent Jones responded, predictably. 
 
 `` Am I under arrest? I will need to contact my lawyer if I am under arrest.'' I warned the agents. I tried to keep my unease out of my voice, but even I could tell that I had failed. 
 
 `` No, you are not under arrest, Professor Erikson, but if you do not come with us immediately we will be forced to compel you.'' 
 
 He did n't even have a chance to finish his sentence before I had a well framed rebuttal prepared, mostly revolving around the paradox of'compelling' compliance in lieu of an arrest. By the time I had opened my lips, I realized that my arguments would fall on deaf ears. The way these men were leaning forward, the way they spoke hurriedly but very politely, and nearly everything else about their demeanor made it clear that even if I had answered my door with a gun and a battle cry, I would most definitely be leaving with them. I decided to change pace. 
 
 `` Alright, let me get dressed.'' was all I could muster in the end. 
 
 `` That wo n't be necessary Professor, there will be clothing for you where we are going.'' 
 
 The men helpfully stepped forward to help'escort' me to their waiting sedan. 
 
 The ride was mostly quiet, only interrupted by my occasional and unanswered demands to know what was going on. As a Distinguished Fellow, and a senior professor at a prestigious research university, I was not entirely unfamiliar with odd requests from the US government with regards to Psychology, some of them even urgent, but I had most certainly never been abducted before. 
 
 Our ride stopped abruptly under an underpass, judging from the lack of rain, and my escorts'escorted' me gruffly from the vehicle, where I found a second vehicle waiting for me. A limousine. 
 
 With minimal'assistance', and feeling distinctly rankled, I stepped into the newly opened door of the limousine and flopped my sixty-two year old disheveled frame onto one of the plush leather seats. 
 
 I was greeted by Ben Edgars, reigning Director of the Central Intelligence Agency. I wryly mentally added this moment to the growing list of surreal surprises this night had already delivered. 
 
 `` Professor Erikson, so nice to finally meet you.'' Edgars delivered with a smile and an outstretched hand. More out of reflex than overt politeness, I shook it. 
 
 `` Sorry to have you here under such interesting circumstances. I will do my best to explain.'' 
 
 Being drug out of bed in the dead of night by DHS to speak with the director of the CIA while in my bathrobe transcended'interesting circumstances' in my book, but I chose to let the comment pass. Regardless of how petty I knew it was, I was envious that he was clearly permitted the time to put on a suit for this meeting. 
 
 `` I think you had best explain quickly.'' I demanded. `` I was picked up by DHS, but I do n't think the CIA can act domestically. I am not a lawyer, Mr. Edgars, but I think that a couple of laws may have been bent this evening.'' 
 
 The Director's face split in a grin that stretched from ear to ear. 
 
 `` My, my professor, if you only knew how right you are! Very well, let me tell you, since for the next couple months... well maybe years if we are being honest, we will need your full cooperation.'' 
 
 My heart sunk. This talk had taken an abrupt turn for the even more ominous, and I had n't even liked where it had started. 
 
 `` You wrote a paper in'84, Professor, you may not even remember it. The paper had to do with the predicted human psychological response to a foreign'xenotype'. Does this sound familiar?'' 
 
 Of course it sounded familiar. I had researched for months, quizzing anthropologists and fellow psychologists alike, gathering information on isolated human subgroups, and their psychological constitutions once introduced to'modernization'. In typical'80's fashion I had tuned the research to feature the potential for a'Third Kind' type encounter, because even then I knew if you want to get published you have to throw in something eye catching. Even in research journals. I went with the'space' theme common for the time. 
 
 `` Yes, I remember that paper. Why, do you need me to research some aliens on your behalf?'' I asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. `` I am eager to hear how you found yourself in need of my involuntary extended services.'' 
 
 The shock of the entire scene was only just beginning to set in. My mind went a hundred different directions trying to extrapolate a response that would have necessitated all of the proceedings that accompanied it, but every conclusion my mind was jumping to seemed to just not fit. 
 
 Edgars leaned forward in his leather seat facing my own and set his elbows to his knees, dropping the grin and adopting a very somber expression. 
 
 `` Professor, the following conversation will never leave this vehicle. Are you familiar with the author Arthur C. Clarke?'' 
 
 `` Yes, of course, I was a kid once too remember?'' I answered nonplussed. Surely an old science fiction author had nothing to do with whatever warranted this level of secrecy. 
 
 `` Well, he once said that'two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the universe, or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.' How does that strike you?'' Edgars asked solemnly, maintaining his newly adopted dour expression. 
 
 `` Sounds about right.'' I answered slightly defensively. I thought I knew where this might be going, and I did n't like the comical idea of a CIA Director attacking a 30 year old research paper in the dead of the night following the'forced compliance' of its author. 
 
 `` What if I told you it's not right. What if I told you that there is a third possibility. What if I told you that in your paper you hit the nail on the head. What would you think about that?'' 
 
 My mind raced again. I had spent a lifetime solving problems and engineering new ways to incorporate old ideas. Shifting paradigms. Breaking barriers. Getting published. I mentally set to work as intensely as I could, voluntarily or not, trying to answer his question, but I did n't have to wait long for the next interruption. 
 
 `` We have a priority 1 lockdown at the Hat Creek Radio Observatory. You might know it as SETI.'' Edgars explained. `` This evening we received a signal that confirmed we are not alone in this Universe. This signal could not have been faked, engineered, or created by any means we now possess. We now know proof positive that we are not alone.'' 
 
 His words hit me like they had been delivered to my brain in morse with a hammer. 
 
 `` You ca n't be serious...'' I gasped, but I already knew he was. This was one of the defining moments for all mankind, I was sure of it. Despite the enormity of the moment, a detail nagged at me. `` But you said there was a third possibility... then you say we are n't alone...'' 
 
 Edgars grin returned to his face, but this time I noticed the dark gleam in his eyes that belied any true mirth. It was a grim grin. Humorless. 
 
 `` We were contacted, and we are not alone, yet we are. You see, that is why we need you. That is why we need your research on cross-culture contact. We have been contacted by extra-terrestrials in every sense of the word, but they are not alien. I need... we need to know that we can survive the contact as a culture when it comes to the masses. We need to know that this will not be another Chapter in the next iteration of'Guns, Germs & Steel'.'' 
 
 Gears turned frantically in my head and the solution hit me only moments before it was revealed. Edgars plowed forward, but at this point the hammering in my brain had stopped, and an icy chill was traversing my spine. 
 
 `` We have been contacted by extra-terrestrial humans entering our solar system at extremely high velocity. An *impossible* velocity. In fact, they are moving so quickly, and from so far away, we are not even sure any current understanding of physics explains how they communicated with us. There are only two things I am sure of here: we will shortly be making contact with humans that come from a point somewhere in the distant future of our universe, and that I need you to help make sure we can survive the rendezvous. You see, Professor, we are not alone, because we are out there.''
