The UFO Bible 1

"The voice of one calling in the wilderness. Prepare the way for the coming. Make a straight path for it."

The council had built a new housing project several miles along the coast from Cleethorpes. This was where councils usually built their shared ownership projects, in places where the land was cheap, usually on the outskirts of a town or a city. Here you understood the meaning of the English expression that you were in the middle of nowhere. Five miles from the nearest railway station, on the Lincolnshire coast, is nowhere. But I've always wanted to live by the sea. The apartments were also very modern and very attractive inside. The salesman showed me around. I took my mobile phone out to take plenty of pictures I would show my mother. I never looked for any other apartments, I just wanted that one. That was also the way I felt about the young woman who pulled into the car park one day in a Range Rover. I walked up to her as she got out of the car.
"Nice car," I said.
"Is it a bad area?"
"No, it's a very nice area. It's just that years ago, people on council estates didn't have expensive cars. I suppose house prices are going up. You can afford a new Range Rover but you can't afford a mortgage."
"The car is five years old. It's my personalised registration number."
"AL1N UAP? Yes, of course."
"And actually, I can afford a mortgage, although only here."
"I'm your neighbour, Matthew from number 10."
"Pleased to meet you. Crystal," she said. We shook hands.
"Perhaps we should exchange telephone numbers. In case of emergencies." I wanted to see if I could get a little bit closer to this woman. I wanted her phone number. That was a good excuse. We exchanged telephone numbers.

A few days later I phoned Crystal and asked if she needed any help. I spent ages carrying boxes out of her car.
"Fancy a cup of tea?" she asked.
"Yes." Crystal struggled to reach the box of tea bags I had placed on the top shelf. Something strange happened. She levitated. A glowing light came from her body and she hovered in the air making a strange vibration. She retrieved the box of tea bags. I was amazed.
"How did you do that?"
"I can levitate. Sorry, did I frighten you?"
"No. I just wonder how you can levitate."
"If I told you would you believe me?"
"I don't know. Try me."
"I'm an alien. At least, I'm an alien hybrid."
"What's a hybrid?"
"Half human, half alien."
"Oh, like a tree. I thought, if you were an alien, you weren't allowed to tell anyone."
"Why?"
"Public alarm."
"Are you frightened of me?"
"No."
"Well, there you are. I've always been quite honest and open about it." I drank a sip of tea.
"Nice tea."
"Flowers from the mountains of Zeta Reticuli 7."
"If people knew the planet had made interstellar contact, wouldn't there be panic?"
"Matthew, you go and tell your friends that your next door neighbour is an alien and that they levitate when they can't reach something on the top shelf and that they make tea with flowers from Zeta Reticuli. I rather think they would be afraid of you, not afraid of me."
"Are you from another planet or are you from another dimension?"
"That question doesn't make sense."
"Why not? Some people say aliens are from another planet, some people say they're from another dimension."
"Matthew, it's not as simple as that. We're from lots of different planets and we're from lots of different dimensions. We go all over the place. We are the angels and demons of Christianity. We are the al jinn of the muslim world. We are the Virgin Mary of the Catholics."
"How are you the Virgin Mary?"
"You don't think those apparitions really have anything to do with Christ's mother, do you? The actual mother of Christ has got better things to do. My grandmother's spent forty years visiting a little village in Slovakia talking to the local children on a Sunday afternoon."
"Isn't that dishonest? Pretending to be something that you're not."
"No. She never told anyone she was Mary. She never told anyone she was Mary at Fatima, in the 1900s. It's just what people assume. I'm not sure why she does it. And yes, in answer to your question, some of us are from other planets."

"Were you conceived on a flying saucer?"
"No one is conceived on a flying saucer. They study the female reproductive system on a flying saucer. My mother picked up an asteroid and a robosperm went into her body and fertilised an egg. So I was born."
"I've seen things like that in 1950s sci-fi movies."
"Yes, that's how they got the idea. From asteroid spacecraft. Think of them like a budget airline. We wanted a spacecraft that could accelerate to 99 per cent of the speed of light without killing the occupants, so we engineered robot sperm and sent them off to far away planets on asteroids."
"Why? Why do it at all? Why do it anyway? Zeta Reticuli 7 must be really fantastic. Why do you want to leave it and come to a horrible little place like Earth?"
"If you had that kind of technology, wouldn't you want to explore the universe? I'm here to learn your language so that we can understand your television programmes. Your language is very difficult to learn. Your species is not naturally telepathic. They needed people to be born on Earth who could learn the local languages."
"How do you teach English to the aliens? Do you speak their language?"
"I know only a few hundred words of Reticulan. Basic conversation but hardly fluent. It's not difficult for them to learn English from me. We are very telepathic."
"I studied Electronics at university. The signal from a television transmitter isn't strong enough to travel light years out into space."
"The flying saucers hide in the clouds above television transmitters. That's why we're so interested in Britain. Lots of cloudy days here. The flying saucers relay the signals and send them to a hugely powerful transmitter on the dark side of the moon. It's got a dish 600 feet across and it's so powerful it's got it's own nuclear power station."
"So you are here to spy on us."
"Spying is the wrong word. Spying suggests evil intentions. We are watching over you. Why are you so suspicious of aliens? Your films show aliens who would kill you just as soon as look at you. Why do you think aliens are like that?"

"That's the way our explorers treated the aborigines and the native people on the islands in the South Pacific."
"Is it?"
"It is the way some people treated them. You wouldn't believe the cruelty in some of the old books. We just thought, if we made interstellar contact, the aliens would treat us the way that we treated them. So we never really wanted to make interstellar contact."
"Very interesting. That would explain a great deal. But Matthew, your planet made inter stellar contact a long time ago."
"How long ago? 1947?"
"What happened in 1947?"
"Roswell. The flying saucer crashed."
"Flying saucers crash all the time. No. How long have the BBC had radio transmitters?"
"1922."
"We were certainly listening to them. I'm not sure there was really much interest in you before that. We could have photographed books or newspapers before that but it's actually rather tedious. I think Moonbase Sigma is about a hundred years old."

UFO sightings, or UAPs, as they are called now, were rare in Britain. But suddenly, very large numbers of strange craft began to appear in the skies over Cleethorpes and Grimsby. They looked like huge boomerangs and hundreds of them daily hovered in the air above the Lincolnshire coast. A radio call was made from the control tower at Doncaster Airport.
"Hello. Is that RAF Flying Dales?"
"RAF Flying Dales, go ahead."
"Why don't you send up your aircraft to take a closer look at the flying boomerangs?"
"It's a waste of time sending up our aircraft. As soon as we get there, the objects disappear."
"Yes but I've got a 737 approaching Doncaster Airport which can't land because hundreds of those things are in the way. If you send up your aircraft now, all the UAPs will disappear, and the 737 will be able to land safely."
"Okay, will do."

I sat reading a book on my kindle one summer evening. I had fallen asleep. I woke up with a jump. The crisp, piercing sound of the tiny loudspeaker in the kindle had spoken. 
"Matthew, Matthew," said a high pitched voice that was like a whisper, "go down to the sea." I looked out of the window. It was a lovely sunny evening. The weather was good for a leisurely walk along the beach. I could see some boats in a harbour a few miles away. I tried to cross the wet sand. My feet sank. I moved my feet up and down, trying to retrieve my shoes, which the sand was sucking off my feet.
"Help me, help me!" I shouted at the top of my voice. Something that felt like a big poker was shoved up my bottom. It lifted me out of the sinking sand and my shoes were left behind. In front of me, a small group of silver skinned creatures with big almond eyes were standing on the sand laughing. Crystal appeared, flying through the air. She lifted me off the big poker and took me back to her flat. She got me some clean trousers and some old shoes that just happened to be my size.
"Thank you Crystal. How did you know I was stuck in the sand?"
"They're not particularly nice aliens. We call them greys. They're very telepathic. You can hear greys laughing a mile away."
"Is that how they spoke to me though the kindle? Very telepathic?"
"Yes. I heard that. 'Matthew, Matthew, go down to the sea.' That was deafeningly loud. Well, the tide's coming in. They were just playing a trick on you. Greys. Not actually from another planet, more like mischievous spirits. Goblins, fairies, nymphs, all old names for greys."
"Crystal, tell me, if another civilization wanted to make inter stellar contact with us, why would they come to Grimsby and Cleethorpes? Two tiny little towns in the middle of nowhere? Why not have hundreds of spacecraft hovering over London or even New York?"
"That would cause total panic. No one takes any notice of what happens in a tiny little town in Lincolnshire. It got 5 minutes on Look North. Radio Hull made a series of programmes about it but who has listened to those? London would make the six o' clock news and be on Panorama. Too much fear of an alien invasion. New York would be terrible. Americans believe in flying saucers. Get abducted by an alien over there and you're followed by journalists for the rest of your life. They would all flee New York and the roads would be blocked. But come to the Lincolnshire coast and people will gradually become aware of you."

I was on a flying saucer, surrounded by beautiful women. One of them looked like Crystal and the others seemed to be even more beautiful than Crystal, had that been possible. One of them said,
"The men on our planet are dying. We need your sperm." I put my arm around her shoulders gently. "Will you come with us to our world?" I said, "Yes, yes." Then the radio alarm turned on and some farmer was talking about how to cope with an outbreak of blue tongue. Damn that radio alarm. Damn having to get up at six o' clock in the morning. It always wakes me up in the middle of a lovely dream.

Crystal was shopping. She suddenly disappeared from her position in the queue and reappeared in front of a self service checkout.
"Did you just teleport yourself from here to over there?" shouted a woman in the queue.
"I'm an alien."
"Of course you're an alien. I've seen plenty flying saucers in Grimsby. On our planet, we queue."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to jump the queue. I just thought about paying for my things and landed over here." Crystal teleported herself back to where she had been in the queue. On the way back to the car, a street corner preacher, wearing a suit and carrying a big leather Bible approached Crystal.
"Do you believe that Jesus died for the sins of this world?" he asked.
"Yes, and for a few other worlds I could mention that are located along the axis of evil. Not all civilizations fell into sin, you know."
"That's rather difficult to fit in theologically."
"The universe is only 6000 years old. Don't you ever watch any of those American preachers on Youtube? My grandmother knows. She was there at the time. You've got 2000 years to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth and then, when Jesus comes back, you're going to preach the gospel to other planets.:"

Crystal invited me to her house for dinner.
"Fantastic vegetables," I said. They were all sorts of glowing colours.
"From the mountain farms of Zeta Reticuli."
"This meat is nice. Is that alien too?"
"No. It's tinned stewing steak from Aldi." Afterwards we sat down to watch television. It was an old black and white film. Crystal's grandmother was sitting on the settee and was glowing with light.
"I can't see the television."
"I'll just disappear."
"No. You don't have to leave on account of me."
"Grandmother has to return to her own dimension," said Crystal. "She can only materialise for half an hour at a time."
"Hence the need for an alien hybrid granddaughter."
"But Crystal's from Zeta Reticuli and she was conceived through robot sperm from an artificial asteroid. Are you really her grandmother?"
"We're not even the same species," said Crystal.
"I am what you would call a guardian angel. I watch over my little poppet." Grandmother disappeared.