“The spacers have been talking to me for over sixty years. That’s why I know what they’re planning.”
“You told me before that you’re fifty-three, Kelven.”
“Maybe it’s forty years the spacers been signaling me. The important thing is that they’re planning a takeover. A peaceful takeover.”
“Last time you said it was an invasion.”
“So, it is. A peaceful one.”
“How would that work?”
“Same way I told you before. Mass delusion. Just like what happened in ‘39.”
“1939?”
“No. I told you. 2039.”
“It’s 2024, Kelven.”
“Now you’re seeing it clear. Just like then.”
“The mass delusion?”
“The surrender. The spacers surrendered like they told me they’d do. Fooled us all. Except me. They wanted me to know.”
“Why do these spacers want you to know? Why not keep us all in the dark?”
“Because they’re honest. They got to be. It’s in their chemistry. A pheromone thing they said. Telling me keeps their essence pure.”
“Kelven, have you considered that thinking you know what’s going to happen is part of their plan? Believing you are the only one who really gets the truth?”
“Frogs don’t lie.”
“Come again? Frogs?”
“That’s the spacers’ way. The frogs. They signal me at night. I’m sure you hear them.”
“This time of year, Kelven, everyone hears the frogs.”
“Hearing ain’t listening, and listening ain’t sussing.”
“The critters croak like they’ve done forever around here. What are you sussing?
“The truth. The spacers telling me what’s to happen.”
“In 2039?”
“That’s when the rest of you suss it. The surrender is happening now. You’re being persuaded. You’re being prepared.”
“To be assimilated?”
“To be certain.”
“Of what?”
“Of yourselves.”
“Hard to believe, Kelven. Hard to believe.”
“Exactly. I don’t always tell the truth, you know. That’s what makes me credible. That’s the way the spacers figured it. That’s what they’ve had the frogs reminding me all these years: Don’t always tell the truth you know.”
