Martin DeSantos peered down at the massing crowd from the audio booth, his hands clenched into fists on the mixing board. “What’s the minute count?”

“Three”, the boy manning the board muttered in a monotone, “and we’re still counting.”

“Three minutes”, Martin echoed under his breath. With glittering eyes, he watched the capacity crowd sway to and fro below him like a restless body of water. The last commercial break was always the longest, and their anticipation had grown from a buzz into an almost deafening roar during the seven-minute lapse. Martin simply couldn’t fight the grin off his face, but then again, he didn’t really want to. “What did I tell you, Aerin? What did I tell you?”

Aerin, who had been sitting in silence near the back of the booth, eyed him reproachfully. “You got what you wanted, Martin”, she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “So why don’t you just enjoy it and be quiet?”

The sound guy hunched over, stifling a laugh. “T-Two minutes, and counting.”

“No, I don’t think that was it, sweetheart”, Martin swooned. “I believe it went something like ‘This is going to be the most phenomenal production in the entire history of mass media’. Ring a bell?” He sucked in a long breath, his chest swelling like a proud rooster, and turned his self-gratifying grin in her direction. “Did I mention that the President is here? The Prime Minister?”

Aerin let her arms drop to her sides. She suddenly realized she was mad enough to fight him, to wrap her hands around his puny pencil neck and watch the life drain from his eyes, but all she could do was stare at him. The man she married, the ambitious talent scout who had seen her potential when no one else would give her the time of day, was now nowhere to be found. That man had been missing-in-action since Martin had stepped aboard Sagittarius 3 and rocketed off into blue three years ago. “You’re not getting away with this. There’s no way. Someone is going to find out about….”

“I don’t care!!” Martin bellowed, taking another step toward his wife. “I don’t give a rat’s ass!”

“One minute. Cue lights.”

With a flick of the switch, the massive stage hundred of feet below them was ablaze with white light. The roar of the crowd was enough to shake the booth like a Cracker Jack box. The sound guy screamed and yanked the headphones from his ears as if they were on fire. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with these people?!”

“Oh nothing’s wrong at all, Jimmy”, Martin tweeted, once again peering down like a kid at a picture show. “Soon…..all questions will be answered”. Jimmy perked an eyebrow up at him, shook his head, and gingerly slid the earphones back on.

“30 seconds. Cue music, cue presenters.”

The lone presenter was a man, tall in stature and wide in build, dressed in an immaculate grey military uniform. Aerin had to refer to the monitor to tell who it was, and her face dropped even lower when she saw Commander George K. Cutshaw’s beady eyes staring back at her.

“What in the hell is he doing here?” she demanded.

Martin glanced at her. “Why shouldn’t he be here? He was the commanding….”

“I know he was your commanding officer, Martin. That still doesn’t explain why he should be presenting them! He’s the one that….” She fell silent as the dome’s track lighting dimmed and the spotlights found their way upon the solemn-faced Cutshaw. Aerin’s eyes darted to the monitor and locked there, beads of nervous sweat forming on her brow.

He stood at-ease, feet shoulder-length apart, until the he had captured the attention of every set of eyes in the dome. Only then did he step up to the microphone and begin to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please”, the commander’s voiced boomed. “Tonight, I have the distinguished honor to introducing to you a very special, very rare group of individuals. As you all know, my colleagues and I had quite a voyage aboard the Sagittarius 3”. Applause swept through the crowd, then died down as the commander lifted his hand. “Our mission had stated that were to reach the furthest end of our solar system that mankind could possibly reach, to bring back any specimens we discovered as an offering of proof….”

“Wait ‘til you hear them, Jimmy”, Martin said, smiling wildly, his voice choked with emotion. “It’s so beautiful…”

Aerin’s teeth bore. “That was in a laboratory! A laboratory! How do you think they’ll react to 200,000 people?!”

Below, the commander smiled conservatively.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present to you – specimens 110, 111, 112, and 113 from sector 44240.9, otherwise known as…..Lagginos, Juyinos, Waerinos, and Hutipos!!”

The curtain behind Cutshaw rose slowly, slowly enough that the blinding rays of light emanating from behind it fell upon each row of seats, one by one. Aerin watched in panic as audience members flung their hands up to shield their eyes.

“Why…why are they so bright now?” Martin muttered to himself, but then shrugged and donned his Ray Bans as if it were an afterthought. For a long while, there was nothing but the light. The audience fanned themselves with programs in the burning heat. Uneasy silence filled the hall until finally the beings, the four flickering orbs of light could be seen floating above the stage like Chinese lanterns. The front rows seemed to see them first, and began to applaud.

“No….NO!!” Aerin screamed. “Everyone cover your ears!!!”

When the sound began, the crowd stood in ovation. Every pair of hands in the house clapped their approval, their acceptance, their welcome to these new forms of life.

And with every clap, the beautiful song of the specimens increased its volume, until the clapping hands were reduced to ash, and the hall once again fell silent.