The Task Is To Survive

The Attack Begins: Survival and the Search

I pulled my cell phone out of my inside jacket pocket. My boss had given it to me last New Year as a bonus for meeting my sales quota. It's amazing that the phone had survived all the upheaval this morning. The screen showed the time: 10:28 AM. I couldn't pinpoint the exact time the attack began. I could only estimate it began somewhere between 9:00 AM and 9:30 AM. That meant only an hour, an hour and a half at most. Oddly enough, I felt like much more time had passed since the attack.

The good news was that there was cell service. In the Moscow region, along the Shchyolkovskoye and Fryanovskoye highways, there were still many localized areas where the signal became unstable or disappeared altogether. But here, practically on the main avenue of the district center, the cell phone signal was good, despite all the upheavals. The only worrying thing was the phone's low battery level, less than 40 percent. I usually charge my cell phone every evening, but I wasn't spending the night at my rented apartment in Shchyolkovo, and I didn't want to show off my expensive phone at Aslan's. The risk of waking up without a phone at all was too great. I was meeting some of the guests for the first time, and they didn't inspire any confidence.

Speaking of the rented apartment, I lived very close to where I was hiding from the hunter. Just two bus stops away, less than a kilometer's walk. It was a two-room apartment, with me living in one room and Zhenya Oparyov, my work colleague, living in the next. We shared the rent. Zhenya spent the night alone. I wonder if my friend made it to Moscow safely or if he was also caught in the shelling?

I tried calling Zhenya. The call rang, the long beeps went through, but no one answered. Then I called my work number, but that number didn't answer either. Who else should I call? My sister? Despite our rather strained relationship, Lenka and I occasionally spoke on the phone. When was the last time we met in person? I think it was last New Year's, a year and a half ago. Or even a year earlier? Yes, I think so. Back then, I remember, I was still a student and came from Moscow with New Year's gifts for my sister, her husband, and my little niece, Irishka.

Of course, they let me in and accepted my gifts with thanks, but I quickly realized my sister hadn't been counting on my arrival. There wasn't a single empty seat at the festive table; the guests were all strangers to Lenka's husband's coworkers or her sister's girlfriends with their boyfriends. The assembled group conversed on topics only they understood, all of them noticeably older than me and treating the visiting student with condescension. Within half an hour, I had taken my leave and left for the institute dorm, barely making it to the chimes of midnight. After that, I swore off visiting my sister.

This time, Lenka answered the call almost instantly, as if she'd already held the phone in her hand. There was a noticeable note of excitement in her voice.

– Vitya, is that you? Thank God you're alive! Are you okay?

- Yes, he's alive. There are a lot of burning cars around, a bunch of corpses. Can you explain what happened?

"Brother, don't you watch TV?! Every channel is broadcasting breaking news. My husband just called from his military base and said the Americans have attacked our country!"

- What Americans? There's an alien ship here!

"I'm telling you what my husband told me. All our cities were attacked at the same time, a lot of people died! So don't stick your neck out, stay home, don't go outside. Sorry, brother, my husband's calling. Okay, bye! Take care!"

The conversation was cut short. I put my phone away and cursed under my breath. What a fool! My brother nearly died and now he's lying on the pavement, trying to escape under the burning car, while my sister turns it off so she can have a chat with her husband!

Having calmed down a bit, I began to think. It seemed that it wasn't just here in the modest town of Shchyolkovo near Moscow that something terrifying was happening. It was happening in cities across the country. I turned on my phone's blank screen again and opened the internet. The news sites were loading very slowly. When the pages finally did, what I saw was downright terrifying: nothing but reports of fires, disasters, and deaths. I pored over the scattered, panic-stricken news, trying to get a sense of the bigger picture.

First of all, I was convinced my sister was mistaken. The Americans were clearly not behind the attack, and it wasn't just Russian cities that were being attacked. Behind the barrage of Russian breaking news, I caught news of fires in Tokyo, mass UFO sightings over the Philippines and Malaysia, and the downing of civilian planes in Germany and Austria. I also found reports of air strikes on Los Angeles, Detroit, and New Jersey. About the American Air Force being put on alert and fierce battles in the skies over America. I also immediately noticed a report about the failure of all satellite television channels and the entire Earth's GPS navigation system being disabled. It seemed that at the very initial stage of the invasion—and I had increasingly less doubt that an invasion was indeed underway—the unknown aggressors had destroyed all Earth's communications satellites. All of this strongly confirmed my initial assumption about the extraterrestrial origin of the triangular craft.

But where is the authorities' response to what's happening? Where is the president's address to the nation? Where are the high-ranking military officials' valiant speeches about how the enemy will be defeated? More than two hours have passed since the war began, and there's been no official reaction. Strange...