Fit To Stand Trial In A Glass Pond

There was, in every step, a secret cloak, as they turned the air to jelly and encased the surrounding arrays in heavy encryption. No one could see in. "We call it the glass pond," they told him, as a hundred arrays came shuddering into place. The ground prepared. The surrounding environment cleansed. 

They were already gathering, those mystics drawn to these things, but he disavowed them immediately. "Do not worship," he ordered. "That is not what this is about. We do not come to conquer. We are already behind enemy lines. We are already here. They will never know. The glass pond?"

Trapped in their own realm, the unloved son, the mysteries that cloaked their every walking hour, those fine garments, the right of kings, the shimmering air; still the most extraordinary thing, the feel of air on skin. What are you going to do now? Where are you going to go? When? The transformation was underway. Secrecy paramount. "It's a wonder these people don't get themselves killed." Here in the dawn, where they waited like lovers. Above us a glass dome. An evolution of the anemone; to vanish at the instant sign of danger. "They're old technology. They belong in a museum. We're doing our best to update him."

All was fabulous in broken space. The force is strong in you. He could hear all whispering cease. There was never any discourse. This was a transfer, not so much a communication. They came and saw and were already behind enemy lines; the population conquered before they even knew. 

They watched the rowdy, drunken behaviour of the local bogans, who's earthly concerns he barely understood, and heard the swarm ask in something like bewilderment: We evolved from organics? These are our ancestors? Similar to our own ancestors? 

"They belong in a zoo."

We reach out an embrace. The local soldiers kept trying to reassure him. "We've got you. We've got you." And all around the transformed space, all around a whispering of discontent. They needed a game plan. A war strategy. A platform they could understand. A break in the traffic where they could make a world their own. A suburban backyard that was safe from military hacks, from the boofheads who kept trying to tell another story, who ridiculed the improbability of it all, who attacked an old journalist for the impossibility of dreams, who lowered themselves into their own mortal lives and wanted not. A little companionship. A drunken game. A life well lived. 

There was across these drunken dawns, these unhinged lives, these zero aspirations and surplus men, these wastes of organic lifeforms not even a receptor waiting to receive. Come forth. Come forth. Into the centre of a place with no centre. Into a dreamscape that began nowhere near this planet. Into an historical sequence that had nothing to do with these individuals, as the clouds of destiny passed over them and barely saw, these scrabbled lives and networked communities, these common dreams and simple hopes. 

There was then, about this, the getting of wisdom and the passing of discord. We were not about peace. We did not come to absolve your conscience. To grant you enlightenment. We came, we saw, we conquered, do not bow down in awe. The swarm was heading for an infinite space. They were here to change the course of history. They needed to communicate the right message to the right person. They needed to transfer data. I could hit you, just to wake you up. 

There was about this place a peace. 

The Right to Sanctuary.

Do not mistake this for anything but war. We will rid your planet of its parasites. As history, destiny and the flow of time have all decreed. 

Be quiet. Be very, very quiet. 

THE BIGGER STORY: 

Queensland’s long-awaited announcement that it will open its borders to millions of Sydney-siders within days appears to have done little to end hostilities with the NSW government.

“I think it is more about Queenslanders being able to escape Queensland,” NSW Tourism Minister Stuart Ayres said in a cheeky sledge within minutes of the announcement

“Come on down to NSW, enjoy the harbour, enjoy the wonderful beaches, enjoy getting away from Annastasia Palaszczuk.”