Meanwhile, the members of AUER Club were at the Seekers of Nephiliham’s ranch, waiting at their vehicle.

What happened next is in this excerpt from Memoirs of a UFO Hunter:

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After a few hours waiting at our van to be called in for our input, it was becoming much more obvious that the cult wanted to be the ones in charge of our partnership.

“They can’t do this to us.” Calvin angrily stated as he stood up, before turning towards the ranch’s manor and yelling, “You bastards can’t do this to us!”

“Calm down, or they’re going to kick us out!” I warned him.

“Don’t you see what they’re doing?” he asked looking at me and pointing towards the manor. “They're already basically kicking us out of something we laid claim to first. They don’t need to come out and tell us to get off their property. There’s certainly no reservation in some queue for us if we leave and wait for a callback. The gates aren’t guaranteed to let us reenter.”

Calvin turns to call up to Mike, who’s laying on the roof under the beach umbrella, still trying to catch up on some overdue rest. “Mike! Mike! Hey, Mike!”

“What is it?” Mike responded wearily.

“I know you’re technically not part of the cult anymore, but is there some way to get us in on the council meeting?”

“Not unless you want your ass kicked out by security. Just respect procedure.”

“Respect?” asked Calvin in a spurning manner. “They’re not respecting us, so why the fuck should we show them any? Dude, they branded your hand!”

Mike turned over, ripped off the hat covering his eyes and looked at Calvin. “Yes, because I lied to them about who I was for years.”

“No, they were just going to take away your membership, but you agreed to get your hand branded and be humiliated so you could continue to keep much of the perks. Plus, they wouldn’t have given you that option if you weren’t connected to people who contacted real aliens. Oh, I’m sorry, I mean ‘angels’.”

“Doesn’t matter. The aliens needed help, we got them people who can handle this far better than we ever could. They can buy the old factory to gain better access. They certainly have the brainpower, finances, and buses of ready applicants to get things going. We’re lucky they even listened to us.”

“And where does this leave the rest of humanity? How do we know these guys will share whatever rewards they receive with the world? They’re going to take what we had and do whatever the fuck they want, while we wait here with both thumbs up our asses! And don’t give me that ‘they’ve got the brainpower’ bullshit!”

At which point, Darla opens the van door, and pulls out her earbuds. “Can’t a girl listen to music in peace? What’s the matter?” she inquired clearly annoyed.

“This motherfucker’s saying the Seekers don’t need us because they’ve got the brainpower.” said Calvin kind of hurt. “They’ve got the science, but they sure don’t have the ideas. We found the way in. We came up with the idea to help the aliens. We let this cult in on what we knew. What ideas can these weirdos come up with? A new flavor for their luncheon’s next batch of placenta soup?”

“Alright Mr. Marketing Genius,” said Mike perturbed, “You want us to have a chair at their table? What doorbuster of an idea can grant us council, long enough for them to consider the idea of not kicking us out?”

It was quiet before Darla said, “You know, I’ve been thinking about their beliefs lately and to be completely honest, it’s not all that batshit crazy.”

The three of us all looked at Darla like she grew a third eye. “What are you talking about woman?” asked Calvin. “They eat the placenta of their newborns.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Obviously not that. Or the clothing. Or the aliens-are-really-angels thing. Stuff like that but… leaving Earth for a different planet can be pretty attractive.”

“What?” asked Calvin still confused.

“Look at from the perspective of someone like me for example. I worked a job I hated for several years, only to be laid off along with my whole team for undisclosed reasons by some guy I’ve never known. Now, I must compete in a cutthroat and stagnant job market filled with yet more jobs that I will almost certainly hate just as much as the last one I had. They’re crap jobs with crap benefits, if any. I need it however, because without it, I won’t be able to survive in a system that seemingly tries anything in its power to take more from me. Due to being part of my specific demographic, my quality of health care is disproportionately poorer, I try doubly harder to fight biases in the workplace, and I haven’t forgotten that almost half of this country’s population are willing to sell out my black keester if given the chance for the marginal possibility of becoming wealthier. Can’t move to a foreign country. If the US doesn’t kill me for any reason, or the locals don’t murder me for something the US did, climate change would get to me wherever I go on Earth for sure. When there’s nothing left here, the next best thing could be somewhere else. Billionaires shouldn’t be the only ones that get the chance to leave this planet.”

If my parents heard a woman like Darla say what she said, they’d say that such thoughts were “white people shit.” If I was younger, I would’ve likely agreed. Different people had varied meanings for it. Taking risks people usually wouldn’t do, like skydiving, bungie jumping, spelunking, what Randy did, would all be filed perfectly under “white people shit” for my family. My parents grew up during a different time, where keeping your nose clean and to the grindstone helped them eventually form a well-off family, which could afford to shield itself from the worst of average hardships. I was taught by them from an early age that this was the way to live. Since leaving for Florida to strike out on my own, I slowly came to understand that many other people’s experiences were quite different from ours. There were people who didn’t take unnecessary risks and worked just as hard, yet they didn’t achieve the success or security my family and I did. I even got accused of “white people shit” by others at times for enjoying or believing in something that wasn’t considered Hispanic, Latino, or Latinx enough, but were perfectly fine among my own family. Sometimes the justification made sense, and sometimes it didn’t. Less obnoxious than the “affirmative action” accusations I got from being accepted into college. I came to realize if I had a life like Darla’s, I wouldn’t be too far from the very ideas she harbored either. I could tell on Mike and Calvin’s faces that they were thinking the same thing that I was, so I said what we were thinking, “She’s got a point.”

“Okay,” said Mike, “but it doesn’t answer how this is going to help us keep our skin in the game.”

“I think I know how it does.” Calvin responded out of an epiphany.

“How?”

“First, I need you to tell me as much as you can about what you know of the ranch’s layout. You’ve been here over the course of a few years. You must know of some ways to enter the manor that are less secured or something.”

Mike placed his finger on his lips thinking hard. “When I ate my lunch here,” he said, “if I finished it early, I would walk around the manor, and I’d notice some of the cultists on kitchen duties taking their break outside by the kitchen’s backdoor.”

Mike perked up and continued, “They would leave to door open until their break time was over.”

“If we entered the manor through there, would you be able to take us to where the council meets?”

“I believe I can.”

“What time do they end their break?”

“Around- Wait a minute…” Mike quickly checked his watch and his eyes widened. “Minutes! We’ve got less than minutes left!”

“Shit! Quick, get off the roof and drive us to the backdoor!”

Mike climbed off the roof, and Calvin began his dash to the passenger side telling me and Darla, “Hurry, get in the van! I’ve got a plan!”

Darla and I were the first in the vehicle. Randy was still asleep in the passenger seat when his side of the door opened, and Calvin shook him awake. “Randy! Randy, wake up! Randy!”

Randy woke in a stupor, “Wha? Who da, what going on?”

“Wake up, it’s all hands on deck! We’ve got to go!”

Mike got in the driver seat and Calvin jumped in the back. We closed the doors, Mike started up the van and began to drive, while Randy looked to us in the back still trying to piece together what was going on.

“Okay everyone,” Calvin began. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Randy, I know you have an aversion to physical confrontations, but we need you to do something for us.”

“What? What’re w-”

“Listen! We need you to take point and stop others from stopping us. We need you with us on this, Randy! Can you do it?”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

Randy began to take deep quick breaths and talked to himself trying to pump himself up. Calvin then turned his attention to the rest of us. “Darla, Bruno, watch our backs and keep up. Mike!”

“What? We’re almost there!” Mike said hurriedly.

“You stick close to me and tell us all where to go. We’ve got one chance, and one chance only. We need to get the council’s full attention and we’re not leaving until they do.”

“Calvin,” Darla said, “I just want to warn you if guns come out, I’m gone. Okay?”

The van promptly stops.

“We’re here! Let’s go!” Mike declared as he got out.

“You heard him! Come on let’s go!” Calvin said as we all followed Mike out of the van.