A/N: An extremely serious story of a soul lifted from his homeland by the evil aliens. I present to you "Beyond the Ceiling of the World." While I own not the content of the song "Alien Invasion" by Archie Roach, I nevertheless expand upon the thoughts of a captive held against his will in a foreign land... with footnotes. Ahem.*removes tongue from cheek*
Beyond the Ceiling of the World
Round and Round. Day after day, in the same cell, never a difference. I am surrounded by others like myself, trapped and isolated away from the world in which we lived for so many years. I was warned, but did I pay any attention. Did any of us? No.
Once, what seems like many years ago I was free to roam the world, a world of refracting light which streamed down through the surface of the world, stretched away for miles on end. Now, however, I find myself trapped in a globe of glass, with no hope for the future other than to spend my days travelling in circles, like a minnow trapped in a rock pool.
The Aliens, that's what I was warned about. The Aliens. My parents had told warned me about them for many years, while my grandparents complained of their comings and goings. "Back in the good old days the Aliens weren't like this" they'd say. "They would come in smaller vessels taking only a few, only every now and then."
Ahh, those were the good old days, with my family and friends. Before I was taken…
Today, on the other hand, more often and often they hovered above us in their great ships of steel rumbling like the surf upon rocks, setting traps and waiting, while the unwary are caught. According to the Elders, these ships were much larger than those of the old days, and the very oldest among us could remember a day when their ancestors told them of how the ships never came to our lands at all.
Sometimes the Aliens would not return for months on end, particularly when the ceiling of the world heaved and darkened. However, on calm days they would arrive, travelling with great speed across the heavens and catching us unaware, great nets lifting many of us up and pulling them away. Few ever escaped to tell their tale, but when they did they told of the giant beings that awaited and the hostile atmosphere of their ships.
I always lacked caution and my friends and family often told me that as fit as I was, while I could escape the slow, lumbering predators of my world, hiding in crevices and holes, even I could not escape from the great nets from above if they caught me unawares.
I do miss them, you know, I have since the day I was first captured. My family, I mean. I wish I could have said goodbye before being swept up by the nets… But lots of my mates got captured along with me, so I'm not to upset. Although, one by one they're vanishing.
As I've already said, not so long ago I found myself chasing down dinner for the day when suddenly I was swept up by the Aliens. As the tales told, I was lifted up onto their great vessel. I couldn't breath, and there were the Aliens, apparently sorting us to their own desire. I was thrown carelessly, into some sort of holding vessel, where I found myself able to breath, however crushed in amongst many others of my own race.
And basically, that's how I arrived here, in my prison and holding cell of glass. I've been thinking about its purpose for some time now, and logically, I can't think of any, other than my being some sort of test subject. Although what the test could be I don't know. But my theory has a major flaw. Aside from food being dropped through the ceiling and an Alien watching us occasionally, it's head distorted by our container, there is no interaction between us and our captors. Perhaps it is because their atmosphere is poisonous to us, and most likely ours to them and they aim to study us before a great invasion…
I have watched as many of my friends have been taken, never to return again. They disappear and something happens to them… We never see what happens to them, but with each one of us that vanishes a white parcel appears on a platform near our holding cells. There are always symbols upon it. F-i-s-h-'-n-'-c-h-i-p-s. Perhaps they mean something? I wish I knew. But never has one of the Aliens ever even tried to communicate with us. Perhaps they are not intelligent enough… Perhaps I can be the ambassador that makes a breakthrough. My first question would be "why are you killing so many of us all of a sudden"[1]
I prefer to see myself as an adventurer, not a captive. A fish of the skies… Beyond the Ceiling of the World! Perhaps I will live a long and coralful[2] life. The food here is good, as if they were trying to fatten you up for something. My only regret is to have not swum the oceans wide and seen the wonders of the ocean – the massive ship with the symbols T-I-T-A-N-I-C on the side, Atlantis – all the things any modern day fish should have seen.
Hang on, looks like they are coming for me. For ME! My time of glory has come! I can be the ambassador between the Alien and Fish empires. I can crush them beneath my dorsal fins! I shall… ahhhhhhh![3]
The decorative (but thankfully, not edible) starfish he'd been talking to would have rolled its eyes, had it any. That's how they all went in the end. And this one was bonkers to boot.[4]
Very Informative Footnotes
1 The fish would be surprised to note that the Alien's answer would be something along the lines of: "I dannow. Ask the fishermen or the government or somethin'. I'm just an honest person who pays for illegal cut-throat priced fish to make a decent profit. 'Parently there's a lota extra fish no-one eats. But you ain't one of those nasty little devils. You're premium produce, I pay 5$ a kilo to get a holda you lot! Don't talk to me about unnecessary de-populisation of the ocean and gill nets and long line fishing." Around here he would pause, check himself and say "Hang-on-a-moment… is I explaining meself to dinner???"
2 Rather than "fruitful" fish say "coralful", as most of them have never seen fruit. The saying is particularly popular among modern fish and was brought out by the Parrotfish.
3 Under some very rare and stressful circumstances, fish can, indeed manage this sound.
4 The remarkable thing here was that the starfish was thinking at all. There have been a number of different theories on how starfish are actually the most intelligent species on the planet. They all had to do with compressed brain atoms and physics. All of them were, of course, incorrect. Everyone knows it is mice.