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The Rocknauts Part II
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
July 8, 2010

The Rocknauts Part II

The four visitors fell into a soft lullaby-like song. The apparent ‘leader’ repeated his message several times as all four ‘flying stages’ drifted around the towns’ central square.

“Who will welcome us to this world?”

He seemed to be listing into melancholy as the tone of his voice softened along with the background accompaniment.

“Who will welcome is to this world?”

Soft echoes trailed off on a gentle sonic slope.

No one in the still somewhat terrified crowd replied. Jaws were just beginning to lift off the sidewalks and crosswalks. Some were still just emerging from the safety of the surrounding buildings. A few vehicles skidded to a halt as people sped from who knows where to see the spectacle. Such unprecedented news travels fast in this town.

The ‘background’ music was serene and very soothing. Vibrato bass-lines and soft tom rolls melded with tapped cymbals and a soft kick drum beat. Clean arpeggios rolled of the guitar with long and distant echoes. A soft “hiss” behind everything may have been the wind, or just maybe the power of these machines held in check by their attendants.

The band was resplendent in bulky boots with faces just below the knees. Tight alabaster pants and bilious three-quarter-sleeve shirts with half exposed chests. Long flowing hair spilled from beneath shining helmets and all of their eyes were covered in rainbow reflective glass.

As the leader rounded monument corner again, a teenage couple stepped of the far corner sidewalk and slowly moved into the middle of the intersection. All four ‘stages’ slowly stopped and the ‘singer’ rotated his about to face them, tilting forward in the process. From thirty-feet away he heard a soft voice. The young girl was addressing him, or all of them.

“Welcome to Earth.”

A smile appeared from behind what could only have been a microphone of some type and the singer replied, “You are the first.” His words echoed between the buildings and away. He went on, “One, is always a good place to start.” At that he looked left and right to nod silently at his companions who had floated into view.

The couple stood in silence, she with her black sneakers, tight denim pants, and loose fitting tank-top, he in black boots, faded jeans and a concert “T-shirt”. Both had a handful of body decorations, some of which sparkled in the morning light. They seemed a bit out of place on this early morning but nonetheless, there they were, originally headed for the courthouse. They slowly broke into smiles. The sun glinted off their sparse jewelry.

The young man spoke next. “Play something else?”

A round of nods and smiles were traded and one of the platforms began a high pitched warble. All the discs settled down to a few inches off the street and launched into another performance. The volume was not as damaging as the first number, but it was much louder than the recent ‘soft-spell’. After a few bars people began to rush forward to join the couple in the experience. Lights and colored smoke from the stages danced thru the crowd as it grew, silhouetting everything.

The visitors finished off several more songs and left the crowd crying for more. They headed quickly to the next city and repeated their performance there. They added a couple of cities more to their ‘belts’ before the government caught wind enough of their escapades to make their move.

The first stand-off occurred in a small west Texas town. It’s still on the map but, the small expeditionary force was reduced to, “basic components”.

The visitors are making many friends everywhere they go but showing very little tolerance for anything that threatens them. They use sound as weapons.

An “X” fighter, a product of technology unknown to the masses of earth, tricked one of the discs up into the vacuum of orbit and fired a missile or two. The visitor was able to destroy it easily with ‘sound’. Defense advisors speculate that some type of gas or particulate matter might have been employed along with sound to actually form a ‘projectile’. Satellite films showed the visitor poking at the derelict cockpit debris with what looked like a sword, all the while shaking his head slowly from side to side.