November 1984 had arrived unseasonably cold and wild.
For the first time in years there had been over a foot of snow fall across Kent and the rest of southern England.
It had arrived just in time for Bonfire Night, and there had already been several news reports over the past week that all the local firework displays had either been cancelled or were close to being so if they weren't already.
But as darkness drew in on the night of November 5th, there was not a single cloud in the sky to prevent the full moon from shining brightly amongst a sea of twinkling stars.
Despite being no more than twenty miles from Maidstone, the village of Milstead barely registered any noticeability except by those who called the tiny settlement their home.
Located right in the heart of three merging woodlands, a walk after sundown could sometimes prove to be a daunting prospect. This was especially so on such a bitterly cold night as this one was proving to be.
David Johnson had no such fears.
Though he had been born in the large town of Canterbury, he had spent every school holiday at his grandmother's cottage located in the Kent Downs.
So many happy years spent playing out in this stunning place of natural beauty had left a lasting impression on David and instilled upon him the desire to live out in the countryside too.
Still, even he had to admit that it did have some disadvantages.
No roads this far out were ever gritted, and there was never enough traffic to aid in clearing the tarmac of the snow and ice whenever it arrived.
As the state of the weather had steadily declined over the past few days, David had been faced with an increasingly treacherous journey to and from work.
With his car struggling to even make it off the driveway, it had become safer and quicker for him to walk the mile and a half into the village and catch the local bus into Maidstone.
Working for the County Council in the Premises Management Department, he couldn't say that it was the most exciting of jobs.
Large amounts of paperwork had to be sorted through each day in order to make sure that local public buildings were properly maintained and kept in a suitable condition for their intended uses.
His office had no windows and a temperamental heating system which made it stuffy in the summer and freezing in the winter. The routine never changed, and more often than not he would have to settle for sandwiches at his desk as he worked though his papers.
But David put up with it. At the end of the day, he was paid well enough and this made it possible for himself and his wife to own their dream home tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
Elizabeth Johnson was a nurse, and worked less than two miles away from her husband at Maidstone Hospital.
That day she had been on the early shift, and had already been home several hours by the time David stepped though the front door, stomping his feet several times in order to get the clinging snow off of his boots.
Still dressed in her blue uniform and thick woollen tights, she was now wearing fluffy pink slippers on her feet rather than her sensible black brogues.
Sat curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea as she watched the television, Elizabeth looked up and smiled at her husband as he walked into the lounge.
"Good day?" She asked.
"The usual." He replied gruffly, coming over and giving her a peck on the lips. "Lot of broken heaters, including ours. Phones off the hook with complaints."
"They say we've had the worst of it now. But it's still so cold that it isn't going anywhere yet."
Turning to face the television, David could see that the local weather reports were indeed predicting an end to the snow. But the temperatures that night were still going to be far below freezing.
But despite the subzero night outside, it wasn't too long before distant bangs and booms were ringing out from the few firework displays that had avoided being called off.
But they were almost entirely ignored as David and Elizabeth sat down to enjoy Round Britain Whizz and its speeded up flight around the British coastline.
Tonight, Terry Wogan was explaining all about the attractions of Northumberland's famously rugged and sea-battered landmarks.
"Perhaps one of the most impressive sights is Bamburgh Castle." Said the familiar, soothing Irish voice. "Build sometime in the late fifth century, it is..."
"Can you hear that?" Elizabeth suddenly questioned, lifting her head up off her husband's shoulder. "David?"
"I can't hear anything."
They had been cuddled up on the sofa together, and he had been too enthralled in Bamburgh Castle and the ancient coastline it was built upon.
Shifting slightly as Elizabeth stood up, he didn't turn away from the television even as she shuffled over in her slippers to the window at the back of the lounge.
It looked out over their back garden and the woods which stretched out far beyond it. But at this time of night it was like staring into a black mirror.
"David, can you turn that down for a second?"
With a tut of annoyance, David obliged.
Clearly she was not going to drop the subject, and she would only persist in asking him about it. So he got up off the sofa and went over to the television to mute it and Wogan's commentary.
Joining his wife at the window once he'd done so, he peered out through the glass over her much shorter figure.
"What is it, Liz?" He asked her. "You can't see anything out there at this time of night."
"I know that." She told him. "But listen, can't you hear it?"
David paused to listen for a few seconds.
"No," he said. "But whatever it is, I'm sure..."
But now he could hear exactly what she could.
At first he thought that it might be thunder, the warnings of an incoming storm. But nothing had been predicted for that night, and the sky above them was cloudless and calm.
Regardless of predictions, however, there was something much lighter about the sound. Less booming and more crackling, like when static electricity struck with a nasty and unexpected jolt.
"Where is it coming from?" Elizabeth asked. "It's getting louder, don't you think?"
"Maybe, it's hard to tell."
But just as David became tempted to open up the window to investigate further, he jumped and turned on the spot as the lights in the lounge suddenly flickered and dipped several times.
After a moment, however, they stopped and were once again shining brightly.
"I guess it was just an electrical storm." Elizabeth theorised. "Strange though, wasn't it?"
"Yes," David replied, breathing out. "But I wonder what caused it?"
Elizabeth shrugged and was already content with returning to the sofa and their guided tour of Northumberland.
"Sorry, I made such a fuss." She apologised. "Made you miss the bit on Bamburgh Castle."
"That's okay, love. I'd rather…"
The strange electrical noise had stopped now, but with the television still muted David suddenly heard something else peculiar coming from outside.
He suddenly recalled his father telling about the bombing raids during the war, how they would hear a long high-pitched whistling noise as the planes overhead released their deadly cargo.
The few seconds of silence before they made impact were said to have lasted forever for those waiting to see if the next one was destined for them.
But this was not the blitz in 1940's London, and yet it was exactly what David had just heard, right now in Kent in 1984. That same whistling sound and ensuing deadly silence was plaguing him and Elizabeth as they waited with baited breaths to see what might happen next.
CRASH!
"What the hell was that?" Elizabeth gasped. "What the bloody hell was that!?"
The entire house had shook as something had slammed down from high above and crashed landed somewhere very close by in the middle of the woods.
This time the lights went out completely, plunging David and Elizabeth into darkness.
"It's disrupted the mains." David observed. "Goodness, it must have just missed hitting the house!"
"But what was it!?"
David saw a shadow move as Elizabeth found her way over to him. Feeling her cling onto his arm, he began to guide her over towards where he knew the sofa was.
"Liz, just sit down for a second." He reassured her. "Wait here, I'll get the torches."
Managing to navigate his way over to the kitchen, it did not take David long to find the drawer where he kept two large torches on standby in case there was a power cut.
Or, as it was in this case, a unidentified crashed object.
The two beams of light illuminated the darkened lounge and Elizabeth as he returned to her and passed over one of the torches.
"Good, now at least we can see." She breathed. "Okay, wrap up. It's cold out there."
David frowned at her.
"What do you mean?" He asked. "Where are we going?"
Elizabeth did not answer him, and he was left to follow his wife as she went into the kitchen and retrieved her sturdy waterproof coat and walking boots that were kept next to the back door.
David continued to watch as she proceeded to put both on. Suddenly the idea of where she was intending on going crossed his mind. "Liz, you're not going out there, are you?" He asked. "Because if you are, then -"
"I'll bet it landed somewhere near where Kingsdown and Mintching woods merge." Elizabeth interrupted, confirming his suspicions. "That's on our land and not too far away at all."
"But it could be anything!" David hissed. "It might even be dangerous."
"Well we can't call the police, even if we wanted to. Not with the phone line down." She pointed out. "Besides, as the owners of the property it landed on, we have a duty to find out if it is dangerous or not."
"Do we?"
"Yes, we do." She argued back. "Come on, no sense dawdling."
David could see it in her expression that she was going to venture out there to find it regardless of whether he went with her or not.
"Fine," he huffed, grabbing his coat from the hook. "But the second I think it's too risky, we walk over to the village and telephone the police. If they're not already on their way, that is."
"We'd better hurry then." Elizabeth said with a grin. "We don't want the authorities to have all the fun, do we?"
The forest floor was as heavily blanketed with snow as everywhere else was.
As they walked, David could hear it crunching underfoot as his boots sank down a good few inches with every step he took. All around him, the bright white surface was pristine and untouched, sparkling and twinkling in the silvery glow of the moonlight.
"We're turning back, Liz." He told his wife. "If there's nothing down by Kingsdown and Mintching."
"Oh, where's your sense of adventure, David?" She playfully called over her shoulder. "Come on, it can't be that far now."
Both of them knew their way through these trees like the backs of their hands, and it was little more than a ten minute walk to where the two woods met one another.
Nothing existed but a small hill and brief break in the trees to tell them that they had arrived, and this was difficult to spot even during the middle of the day.
But tonight, there was no need to be quite so observant.
Over twenty trees had been uprooted and lay in broken, shattered pieces, some of which had been set ablaze.
Like an ugly scar cutting through the otherwise unblemished landscape, a trail of upturned snow and scorched earth guided them though the destruction.
It ended with a crater several feet deep where more fires were burning, creating a flickering orange glow against the inky black night.
Running the last few steps over towards the gaping hole, Elizabeth peered down into it, excited to see what could possibly be down below.
Recoiling at the very impossibility of what she had just discovered, she backed away from the edge of the crater and bumped straight into David as he caught up with her.
"Liz?" He asked. "What is it?"
"I…" She tried to say. "It's…. It can't be…"
It was a spaceship.
Despite the destruction caused, it was very small. But it was a spaceship nevertheless, because what else could it have been?
The metal hull was white and completely round in shape. In-between a single round window made of red glass, two long grooves ran down and indicated the presence of a door.
"What the hell?" David whispered. "Oh, my… No way!"
He could see that it was no taller than he was, and only twice his width. Whatever might be inside had to be no bigger than a single person in order to fit into such a small craft.
Stood right on the edge of the crater, his torch beam shining down on the ball-shaped ship, he suddenly decided that he could no longer merely stand there and stare at it.
With great care, he lowered himself down onto the bank of upturned ground and slid down towards the spaceship.
"David!" Elizabeth hissed. "What are you doing?"
Reaching the bottom of the crater, David ignored her as he ventured a little closer towards it.
Steam was pouring out from the exposed vents, making the window fog up and prevent him from seeing what might be inside.
Working up the courage to reach out and wipe the glass with his sleeve, David saw that it was translucent, meaning that he still could not entirely see inside properly. But now he was certain that the ship was indeed occupied.
"There's something moving in there." He told Elizabeth. "I don't know what it is though."
"Be careful." She called back, shinning her torch in his direction. "Take it slowly."
Nodding reassuringly, David looked back at the ship and its curved door. He could see the ridges of its boundary on either side of the window, but there was no handle which he might use to open it up with.
"Now then," he muttered to himself. "How do I do this?"
As he put his torch down on the ground, he hardly dared to breath as he reached out towards the ship with both of his hands.
The metal surface was still warm, but it was rapidly cooling down now against the cold night air. Still, David could feel the heat radiating off of it even before his fingertips made contact.
Nearly having a heart attack as a large metal handle shot out of a hidden compartment, he stumbled back over his own feet and landed on his bottom with a thud.
"What happened!?" Elizabeth called out. "David?"
"It's okay," he quickly reassured. "Just found the door handle, that's all."
"Oh, alright. Just be careful."
Taking in a deep breath as he got back up onto his feet, he cautiously approached the ship once again as it hissed out more air and steam.
It must be decompressing itself, he thought.
Tentatively, David took hold of the door handle and then found himself gripping it tightly, the cooling metal biting against the flesh of his palm.
That was when he hesitated, and suddenly he felt unable to go any further.
Was he really going to open it up?
Perhaps thirty seconds passed by in complete silence, broken only by the crackling of the nearby fires and his own increasingly heavy breathing.
Then his grip on the handle tightened even more.
"Oh, sod it!"
Much like the lid of a car boot, the spaceship's door swung up instead of outwards, and David felt it click into place on hinges as he lifted it up above him.
Daring to lean in, he could at last see what was inside.
"David, what is it?" Elizabeth questioned, seeing her husband's head and upper body disappear into the ship. "Tell me, what's in there?"
Before he had a chance to reply, however, or even fully reemerge, the sound of crying gave away the ship's secret cargo as David stepped away from the ship with a small, wriggling bundle tucked securely in his arms.
"It's a baby!" He gasped, looking as though he was about to start laughing. "A baby, Liz!"
"An alien baby?" She whispered, her eyes wide with shock as she stood rooted to the spot. "What, you mean like Superman?"
"Well… Yeah, I guess so." David chuckled, practically beaming down at the infant he was carrying. "Still, he looks normal enough."
"H-he, it's a boy?"
The wailing infant was wrapped up in a dark blue blanket made of a very fine silky material. But it wasn't very thick and it was beginning to slip off of him now as he squirmed and kicked out with his tiny limbs.
Tucking it back around him more securely, David immediately tried to sooth the baby by gently rocking him back and forth.
But it was to no avail as the child continued to scream his lungs out.
"Liz, can you come down here?" He asked, looking up at his wife. "You'll probably be much better with him than I will."
"Yeah, but he's not..." Elizabeth began. "I mean, surely he won't be anything like us?"
"Like what, Liz? Human?" David suddenly snapped, frowning. "He's just a baby. One who won't survive out here on his own, tonight of all nights. You're a nurse for goodness sake!"
"But..."
But Elizabeth could no longer ignore the crying and obvious distress of the infant.
Before she entirely knew what she was doing, she found herself sliding down the side of the crater and walking over to join her husband.
Inside the blanket, she could now see a tiny baby boy with a tuft of jet black hair, crying badly enough to make his face flush red.
"Hey hey hey, it's alright. Shush now." David told him gently. "Hey now, little man. It's alright."
"Oh my god," Elizabeth whispered, gently examining him. "He can't be any older than three months. He must starving, and cold too no doubt."
"He's also probably been in that thing for goodness knows how long." David said, nodding in the direction of the ship. "Here, take him for a second."
"Wait, no. What..."
But the baby was already in her arms, swapped in exchange for her torch as David took it and returned to the spaceship, disappearing inside once again.
"I saw something in here." He said, reemerging after a moment. "Yes, look. It might be a clue to where he's come from?"
In his hand was a scroll of paper, rolled up and fastened with a dark blue ribbon the same colour as the baby's blanket.
"Well, don't just stand there. Open it up then." Elizabeth insisted. "What? What are you staring at me like that for?"
The scroll remained rolled up in David's hand as he stood smiling triumphantly at her.
"Look," he said, pointing. "He's stopped crying."
Looking down at the infant, Elizabeth saw that he had indeed stopped sobbing and was now looking up at her with a somewhat curious expression.
For the first time, she was able to see his eyes.
They were the brightest shade of grey that she had ever seen. A pair of sterling silver orbs which almost seemed to reflect against the light of the moon that was shinning high above them.
Something about such a steadfast gaze was definitely not human.
"Well," she said evenly, looking back up at David. "Now that he's out of that contraption, I'm sure he is happier."
She had waved her free hand casually in the direction of the ship in order to further her point, but the baby reached out for it and had managed to catch hold of her thumb.
His hands were tiny and not nearly big enough to grab her whole hand yet, but he looked happy enough as he pulled the digit down towards him and began to quietly suckle on it.
"Yes, I'm sure that's the reason." David replied, smirking. "That, or I think someone here likes you, Liz."
"Or perhaps he's waiting for you to open up that scroll of his?"
As David obliged and unwrapped the piece of paper, he caught a glimpse of something falling free from within it, and he spend a minute shining his torch all around him until he found it again.
"It's a ring." He said, holding it up so Elizabeth could see it. "Silver, I think. With some kind of blue stone attached to it."
"There's a definite colour theme, isn't there? But why give him that?" She asked. "What good is a ring to a baby?"
"I guess it must have been intended to be worn when he's older."
"Well, whoever these people are. It was very irresponsible of them to put him into a spaceship on his own and nearly let him starve and freeze to death."
"You're getting very protective over him all of a sudden?" David enquired, raising an eyebrow. "Also, maybe they didn't have a choice?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Superman's planet was destroyed, wasn't it?" He reminded her. "They sent him to Earth for his own safety."
Feeling slightly guilty now, Elizabeth decided to swiftly change the subject as she cleared her throat loudly.
"Is there anything written on that thing or not?"
David's gaze immediately shifted down towards the piece of paper he was holding onto.
It was a heavy sort of parchment paper and right at the top was a symbol, printed in a silver ink which shone brightly against the torchlight.
Looking at it more closely, he could see that it was a strong wolf-like creature sitting up proudly, a dark blue sash adorning its puffed out chest.
Despite the quality of the stationary, however, and the very formal looking letterhead, there were only three words written down upon it, and they had been messily scribbled across the paper as though done so in a great hurry.
"Could that be…" He wondered aloud. "Yes, I think it is."
"What?" Elizabeth asked, leaning in. "What is it?"
"His name. I think that this is what this little guy must be called."
"It's in English." She noted, reading it. "How strange?"
"Well, maybe they just use the same letters that we do?" David guessed. "But I'm telling you, this must be his name."
Elizabeth had to agree, because she could not think of anything else which the three words could otherwise be.
Whatever world this baby had come from, not only did it share the same letters as the English alphabet, but also the same apparent arrangement of them too.
"Peter Alexander Argent." Elizabeth read aloud with ease, before looking back down at the infant in her arms. "Well, at least we now know what to call you now, Peter."
BANG!
Peter started to cry again as a large emerald green firework exploded overhead.
"We should get back to the house." David suddenly declared, scooping up the other torch which he'd left besides the spaceship. "We'll take Peter back with us and then -"
"Then what, David!?" Elizabeth asked, aghast. "How do we explain that we have now have an alien baby and a spaceship on our land?"
David considered this for a moment as he thought about their options.
"Okay, here's what we do." He decided. "We'll go back to the house, and you look after Peter whilst I cover this thing with a sheet. In the morning I'll dismantle it with my tools and put it all away in my shed."
"Dismantle it? It's an alien spaceship, David."
"Yes, one made of metal panels and rivets. It's not so different, really."
"What about the damage to the woods?" She challenged. "Are we going to say that a wayward firework did this?"
People sometimes walked through here, ramblers and locals alike out enjoying the tranquil peace of the forest.
"Yes, yes that's good." David agreed enthusiastically. "Why not say that?"
Elizabeth groaned loudly.
"David, just think about this for a moment." She pleaded. "Even if no one ever questions all of this, or finds the ship. We can't just take a baby in without attracting attention."
"Good attention, Liz." He reasoned. "Your mother would be thrilled to have a little -"
"Just stop!"
David's smile faltered under his wife's sudden outburst.
"Why? What's the problem?"
"My problem is that you're all but ready to take him in as though he was left on our doorstep!"
"Well, wasn't he?"
He had a point. Elizabeth knew that he was right on some strange and deluded level as she looked back down at Peter.
"Well, I guess…" She started to say. "But, David. He's not human."
"That isn't going to change whether we take him in or leave him at an orphanage." He countered, frowning at her. "Besides, it's not something that he can help, now can he?"
"I know that, but -"
David had finally had enough of the point she was trying to make.
"Look, you're the one holding him, Liz. You make the decision." He told her sharply. "Now, I can get an adoption order from work and start all the paperwork and proceedings straight away. Or we could take him over Maidstone tonight and say that we found on our doorstep, leave him with the authorities and be done with it all."
Elizabeth could already see which option her husband wanted to take.
"You want to adopt him, don't you?" She asked. "David, sparing him from being found in a spaceship is one thing. But we can't just decide to take him in."
"Liz," he said softly. "We can't have children of our own."
"You mean I can't." Elizabeth muttered bitterly. "I'm the one that can't."
"No, we can't." David corrected her. "Because I'm not having them with anyone else. Liz, this could be a sign. Maybe we were always meant to find Peter?"
But even as she held the perfectly normal looking child in her arms, Elizabeth could not help but think about what he might one day grow up to become.
"Even if we adopted him, no one could ever know about where it was he came from. You know that, right? We'd be on our own in raising him." She said. "He may look human now, but that could all change at any time."
"I know." Her husband replied seriously. "But do me a favour before you make up your mind. Look at him. Go on, look. Do you really want him to go to anyone else? Would it be the best thing for him to be given to anyone else?"
Elizabeth looked down again at the baby in her arms.
Peter had fallen asleep, sucking his own thumb now but keeping a tight grip on her's. He'd quickly forgotten all about his spectacular and fairly destructive arrival and seemed content with his situation, and with them.
In doing so, he had made Elizabeth's decision for her.
"Well, I don't know what you are or where you come from, Peter." She gently whispered to him. "But it looks like you're going to be stuck with us for a while at least."
Another firework went off overhead, bathing them all in a purple hue of sparkling light.
"Liz, we should go." David urged as he quickly slammed shut the spaceship's door. "Before anyone does turn up."
Quickly, he clambered out of the crater and turned back, holding his hand down towards his wife.
Ensuring first that Peter was secure in the crook of her arm, Elizabeth used her free hand to reach up and grab hold of David's and together they were both pulled out of the large hole.
Taking a moment to catch their breaths, both husband and wife lingered momentarily as they stared down at the spaceship that they might very well now have to hide for the rest of their lives.
Then, with the alien baby they had just decided to adopt as their own nestled safely in Elizabeth's arms, they turned back for home.