The Sleeper

On his twenty-seventh birthday, Cole Fender was triggered to remember something. What he remembered was that he was unlike anyone else on Earth. More to the point, what he remembered was that he was not a human being at all, but an alien.

“The planet Saedar,” said Cole to himself, as if testing the sound of it upon his lips. Funny, it did not sound the same in the human/English tongue. From what he recalled – a process taking all of a second, wherein all knowledge of his true-self came hurtling back to him as dust mites to a vacuum hose – the sound of his home world sounded less hokey, less trite, certainly less Mork-and-Mindy, in his native language [Saedarian?]. But he felt the need to practice and he did so for nearly an hour seated in front of a mirror. Practiced the name of his home world [funny, too, how he suddenly longed to return to it], practiced a few other alien names for things and alien concepts that he felt sure would come up in the long process of explaining to his friends and family who he really was. Who he had always truly been. There would be many questions, and he felt it important and only right to prepare himself for the task. There was a lot to explain and very little time and not everyone would believe him.

The need to explain everything to the homo sapiens he had come into contact with while on Earth was a very human compulsion, but it was a trait also shared with his own, Saedarian, kind. Fairness, morality, and love were more universal than most humans realized. Cole would probably not have to get into all that though, the humans would just assume that he was but displaying what he had learned here on earth, that he was being humane [what a selfish word-grab that was, he thought, possessing a universal ideal by giving it one's own name].

One thing he did pick up while on Earth was the impulse to apologize – a singularly human characteristic – Cole caught himself as he practiced what he would say in the mirror, caught himself softening the truth in the telling. Softening the cold reality. Feeling somewhat responsible for it all. For what was soon to come.

He practiced the only way he could now – his human-way now dissipating quickly from memory – in the Saedarian way, a fact-telling way told coldly in third-person monotone: “Cole Fender was from the planet Saedar. Cole Fender was much older than twenty-seven Earth years. Cole Fender appreciated all the human bonds that were formed and the friendships made in those many years. He thought himself human for so long and Cole Fender will continue to hold them all close within his heart.”

And he paused to perfect the tone of the litany; anything too sentimental would only negatively affect the telling of it. Sentimentality, like the impulse to apologize, belonged solely to humankind. It was getting easier for him now though; the Saedarian in him was pleased. He took up where he left off, telling the rest of it in a pleasing emotionless way: “Cole Fender was sent to live among you, to soak it all in – humanity – to learn your ways, from birth to death, from cradle to grave. Along with many others on your planet, Cole Fender has awakened and must now return to his own people to tell your story, the human story. His mission is complete. Your existence will be remembered forever, recorded directly from Cole Fender’s memory. The good, the bad, everything. The universe will remember you always.” He paused in order to get the last part right; he must not mince words: “The invasion has already begun. Even after the invasion is complete and humanity is wiped out of all existence, Cole Fender will remember you always. Good day to you all. And good luck.”

That last sentiment was Cole Fender’s last human tendency, lending hope where none could possibly come to fruition. But even now, Cole Fender was no longer human. He was looking forward to seeing his home world once again. “The planet Saedar,” said Cole to himself, as if testing the sound of it upon his lips. Only this time he said it in his native tongue. It sounded much better that way. What a strange birthday this has been, Cole Fender thought. He stood and headed out the door to tell everyone the news.