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FROM ANDROMEDA AND BACK RADIO: SKIES THAT DO NOT FADE

I remember being in Chicago back in the day, listening to an FM rock station. After a bevy of alternative rock, the DJ suddenly put on the Waltz from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. At the art store where I worked, one of the young hipsters immediately yelled, "Tchaikovsky!" and began conducting with her hands. I'll never forget that moment. We had gone from, say, Throwing Muses to Tchaikovsky, and I remember thinking: How cool was that? Here was music making its own case. It didn't plead. It didn't demand. In its own way, it rocked. And then, after that glorious interlude, it was back to alternative rock. The funny thing was that the classical piece had not seemed out of place. It held its own. It brought to the table its own heft, its own weight. It wasn't preachy. It wasn't better than. It was simply another fiber in the fabric of the day. And maybe that's the way great music should be heard. Not fenced off by genre. Not placed behind glass. Not approa...
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TERRA FIRMA ALIEN ENHANCEMENTS: A PRISON? A CURSE? A REFUGE?



It's a passageway.

There are more than one.

All are just as grim.

Just as unforgiving.

They are many things to many beings.

Alien-created and yet...

Imagine being trapped in one for thousands of years.

Not alone. That might almost be merciful.

Imagine being trapped there with millions of others. Beings of every shape and size. Faces of terror, awful to behold, alongside human-seeming faces—all making that terrible, endless march of drudgery and despair.

Walking.

Walking.

Existing.

Sighing.

Moving through passageways that seem to have no beginning and no end, where time itself may have ceased to mean what it once meant.

A prison?

Perhaps.

A curse?

Perhaps that too.

But imagine something stranger.

Imagine these passageways also as a refuge—an escape hatch from agony. A place entered willingly because those who entered were assured that one day they would be released.

It was the perfect escape.

Until the hoped-for release...

does not come.

Thousands of years pass.

And still the walking.

The walking.

The groaning.

It never ceases.

Millions of beings moving through passageways that seem to have no beginning and no end, waiting for doors that were supposed to open thousands of years ago.

What happens to hope in a place like this?

What happens to the beings who carried that hope inside?

Their future does not depend upon them.

They are dependent upon those outside.

Helpless.

Waiting.

Hoping.

But don't mistake helplessness for innocence.

These beings did not enter the passageways as innocents.

They entered as an army.

The passageways didn't make them monsters.

They gave the monsters somewhere to wait.

Millions escaped into them to survive a catastrophe that threatened to destroy them. They entered willingly, believing their confinement would be temporary.

Instead...

Thousands of years.

Walking.

Groaning.

Waiting.

Remembering.

These passageways have their own stories to tell in Terra Firma.

And perhaps the most frightening question isn't what is inside them.

It is—

what happens when the code is finally solved and the passageways are unlocked from the outside?

What happens when doors that have remained sealed for thousands of years begin to swing open?

Because whatever is waiting inside isn't being freed from its evil.

It is being unleashed to wield that evil without restraint.

Millions went in.

Millions have been waiting.

And now, after thousands of years...

All humanity is their target.

And Earth is their plaything. 

More Terra Firma: Alien Enhancements:

More Terra Firma: Alien Enhancements: You're Being Watched

More Terra Firma: Alien Enhancements: The Book, The Key, The Dare…

More Terra Firma: Watching Masters: Casablanca

I'd love to hear your thoughts, so speak your mind. Leave me a comment or feel free to hit me up at: fromandromedaandback@gmail.com. And thank you!

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