Damian is up and has Vulcan's phone in his hand before I even register that he's moved. I tend to forget that he is probably old enough to be an elder himself, and then he moves like this: fast enough to steal a phone out of an elder's hand before they can register and fight back. He looks at the phone as if debating something, then he looks Vulcan in the eye.

"It is not that we don't have a plan. We have a plan without a visible path to execution."

Vulcan looks intrigued, "Go on," he drawls while sweeping his hand in an inviting gesture, "enlighten me."

"Alyssa thinks we can manipulate the humans into making first contact by having them respond to an extraterrestrial distress call."

"Interesting," Vulcan turns his attention to me, "We could teach them about the balance in the distress call, and it may prompt them to make changes to preserve it."

I nod, "That too, and if we send the message in such a way that every nation gets a part of it, and the people get the message, then they are more likely to act on it."

"Hmmm…" Vulcan hums, stepping over the papers littering the floor before sitting primly on the couch. He reaches out, idly picking up papers Damian has strewn around and quickly reading them. Damian and I remain frozen in place. Damian may have Vulcan's phone, but Vulcan is still a predator among kittens. He could kill us with a thought if he wanted, and we wouldn't even have time to process it. Our lives hang on whether or not Vulcan likes our idea.

After a few minutes of tense silence that Vulcan doesn't seem to notice, he says "And what are the problems you have identified with this plan that make it untenable?"

We both jump from the sudden sound of his voice, but Damian immediately relaxes after hearing the question. He carefully navigates his way to the chair across from Vulcan and sits. "We don't have the technology to faxe a signal the humans would trace as being from another planet. They do not have the technology to respond, or to travel the distance to another planet."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Vulcan nods along with each detractor of the plan. "How long would it take the humans to have the technology to respond?"

Damian closes his eyes, leans back in the chair, and thinks. There are more sounds in the library. People coming to work, shelving books. Someone is eating a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich at their desk. Eventually, Damian opens his eyes, "I've spent the last decade or so building New Eden, and I my attention in the human science world has waned, but I would estimate ten to twenty years before they can send interstellar messages if there is a concerted effort. Maybe more."

I startle, "We don't have that kind of time!" I interject, maybe too loudly. Both of them turn to look at me. I open a new tab to the r/supernatural sub on reddit, then turn the screen to face them. "The humans already have authentic footage of wendigos, sirens, and werewolves. There is even grainy footage and suspected sonar of a mermaid."

Damian laughs, "Yeah, on reddit. No one is going to believe that!"

I look at him, dumbfounded, "Not just on reddit, in one of the largest fandoms. A fandom that is fascinated by the thought of the supernatural. There are scientists in this fandom. Media people, and politicians too. In this thread," I click on the one with the footage of the werewolf transforming, "they are already having the footage professionally analyzed. If it is real, and it probably is, they are going to act. We still have a moment to help persuade them to act peacefully, but by the end of the year, that moment will probably be gone."

"There is no way to sabotage their efforts?" Vulcan asks.

I shake my head, "No. The internet is too distributed. This video has been downloaded and shared millions of times. Even if I could make the original look like it had been faked, there is no way I could change all of the videos. And I would still need to find the source material and delete it from the phone that originally took the video, and then it is probably saved to their dropbox and in their email account. And if they shared it through an encrypted program…?"

"Pandora's box is open," Vulcan says, "and it cannot be closed."

"Our only chance is to make sure there is hope in the bottom," Damian finishes. "How much time do we have before we need to have this handled?"

"Six months if we are lucky."

"Are we lucky?" Vulcan asks.

"No." I respond, "No we're not."