For decades we had been searching for signs of alien life, scanning the farthest corners of the cosmos. 

Many urban legends had been woven about sightings of invading spacecraft and even contact with space creatures, with countless alleged witnesses, but they had never been confirmed. This could be the first time.

A week earlier, the announcement of the “imminent arrival of an interstellar spacecraft” had appeared in the news. Dozens of independent scientists had detected this alien ship on its way to our planet. 

After an anxious wait, it was the day of the big event. 

The day of arrival.

I went, like many other curious people, to the landing zone. As expected, it was fenced off by the Armed Forces; outside, a crowd was gathering. We all wanted to see the first visitor from the stars.

The atmosphere was festive. Giant screens were showing the details of the encounter. Celebratory music played over the loudspeakers. Political, art and entertainment personalities from all over the world expressed their welcome greetings, each in their own language. 

I connected the universal simultaneous translator to my headphones so I could understand all the messages. I was not surprised that they said practically the same thing: “a great day for our species”, “History is rewriting itself”, “the hope of interstellar confraternity”, “united for peace and love”, although some spoke of being cautious and taking safety precautions. A few even proclaimed the need to prepare for warlike actions.

Inside the enclosure, there was a circular concrete platform surrounded by flashing beacons with a huge, red-painted cross in its center, where the visiting ship was supposed to land. Evidently, they had communicated with the aliens in preparation for their arrival.

Eager to witness the historic event live with my own eyes and not just through the screens, I climbed onto the roof of a news channel trailer. Soon I was surrounded by more spectators eager to have a privileged vantage point. I had to juggle to keep from falling off.

In the crowd, the din was growing. A group of religious fanatics from the Stellar Worshippers sect danced and recited mantras. Others shouted in anger that the end of time was coming, as prophesied in the holy books.

After a couple of hours of waiting, a ship resembling a three-story tall white refrigerator began to descend on the red cross, its flaming rockets cushioning the fall, amidst a thundering roar and toxic smoke. 

As the alien craft came to a stop and the cloud of gases and dust dissipated, we all held our breath. A thousand cameras focused on it.

Moments later, a hatch opened, and a ladder unfolded. The anticipation was at its peak.

Then, our first visitor began to descend, clad in a thermal suit that made it difficult for him to move, followed by a small entourage of his fellows. I assumed he was the expedition’s commander. 

Walking on two legs and waving his upper appendages, the alien leader touched the ground as triumphant music played over the loudspeakers.

Immediately, he made his way to a nearby box that had been set up for the event and settled into it, facing the crowd.

I was overcome with a sense of wonder, of awe mixed with jubilation. I began to clap with my eight front hands, while waving my upper antennae like whirlwinds. 

I let out oscillating shrieks of supreme exhilaration. So did everyone else, causing our shells to vibrate at a blissful frequency. My system was flooded with mediators of pleasure.

I began to jump convulsively. Clumsily, I wobbled my heavy tail and knocked down a pair of stupid polypods that had perched on a multi-headed zorbian.

I apologized to them and tried to focus on the box with three of my eyes through my trinoculars and the other three on the giant screens. 

The eyes of the entire world upon him, the alien commander grabbed the microphone with one of his hands and proclaimed in a strange voice of vibrating sphincters, “We are visitors from the third planet in the system of a star we call Sun. We come in peace.”

Luckily, I had my translator plugged in.