“…it.”

                Conrad didn’t remember the stasis field activating. The last thing he remembered was giving the go-ahead with a thumb up and thinking, “This is…” It was clear to him that his brain was finishing the thought as he woke up. It was definitely something to note in the report for the engineers on Earth. He brought his arm up and examined the wrist-mounted digital assistant. The device was suspended but it was definitely working. Conrad chuckled. He always had an affinity for these older models that didn’t have the flashy features of the newer ones like neural links and holographic projection capability but could survive practically anything. This was not the time for petty nostalgia. This was Conrad’s moment of destiny!

                For the sake of practicality there were no separate rooms. Awakening from the stasis pod Conrad found himself looking at the main control panel. The heads-up display read, “Entering orbit…” Everything was going according to the simulation’s rendering of the trip from back in training. Unfortunately, as things of a nature as complex as Conrad’s mission tend to experience, something went wrong.

                Alarms blared a few minutes into the attempt to enter a stable orbit. Conrad checked the computer’s report and learned of missiles headed toward him. There wasn’t much time to think let alone make contact with the surface, analyze the language, and signal the intention for peace. He needed to lose the missiles. It would have been easy enough to lose them by going back out into space, but that would use up the precious reserve fuel he had left for maneuvering at a suitable planet. No, Conrad needed to lose the missiles but not the planet. There was only one option.

                “Oh well. Here goes nothing!”

                Commandeering control from the computer, Conrad sent his small ship into a dive straight through the atmosphere.

                “Projectiles approaching. ETA 20 seconds.”

                The ship shook like a happy puppy’s tail in the atmosphere.

                “Projectiles approaching. ETA 10 seconds.”

                Conrad realized a slight oversight in the design of his craft. There was no real way to use the air in the atmosphere to maneuver. If he survived, he was going to put that in his report as well. With the missiles getting closer all he had left between him and the premature demise of his mission was the strength of the ship’s hull. Conrad took the last few seconds to strap in to the stabilizing restraints on the wall. The Spartan design of the ship didn’t call for a chair.

                With the telltale signs of explosion calming, Conrad assessed the damage. He wasn’t dead. That was good. The ship was whole. Also good. There was still no way to control the ship and he had no idea where he was going to land. That was bad. Conrad searched his mind for what he could do in this situation. All the simulations he ran dealt more with the interactions and standard operation rather than emergencies. And of course, what human would have considered that an alien species might consider them a threat. Heavens no, not the peaceful, loving human race. But this was no time for social commentary. Conrad remembered the very last day of his training and the suddenly important footnote came to mind: the big red button.

                “It’s always a big red button, eh?”

                What else was there to do? Conrad pushed the button.

                “Analyzing situation,” the computer synthesized.

                “Recommend precautionary ship vaporization with teleportation to land for contact and cohabitation. Please press the red button again for confirmation.”

                Conrad didn’t know if he should be thankful for the red button or if he should be dumbstruck at the unwieldiness of the whole system. Without much time to think he pressed the button and found himself falling forward onto a grey surface. Conrad got his arms out in time and found himself on all fours on what seemed an awful lot like the sidewalks he remembered playing on as a kid.

                People were walking around him.

                “Wait, what? People? Where am I?”

                The figures on the sidewalk were just like the people in Conrad’s memories. He looked around. The fashion was different. The architecture was different. And these people – were they people? – definitely didn’t know how colors went together. At least, not like back on Earth. A man came over and knelt down.

                “Ooouuaaeee luuueeeoo?”

                Conrad’s head tilted sideways. This was no earthly language. The alien… no, the man repeated himself again. Conrad thought he understood the tone of the man.

                “Yeah, I’m just fine.”

                Now it was the otherworldly man’s turn to look confused. Some more people around him. Looking to his arm, Conrad attempted to use the language analyzer on his digital assistant but found it missing along with the part of his uniform that was under it.

                “Damn! It must have been vaporized with everything else. Damn security! Damn it all!”

                The man trying to help was obviously startled. He called out to one of the fellows walking by. Conrad didn’t understand it. The new guy looked to his wrist and that’s where Conrad noticed it: a digital assistant! Summoning up all his strength he leapt up and grabbed the man’s wrist and turned it to where he could see it, forgetting in the heat of the moment that if he couldn’t understand their spoken language he probably couldn’t understand anything written either. Of course now the people around him were agitated. The man who showed concern for him previously ran up and locked up Conrad’s arms behind the back and spoke out again. Conrad couldn’t see what was going on as he was slammed up against the wall of the building closest to him. He heard sirens. Sirens! Not like back home on earth, but those shrill, repetitive noises had to be sirens! And there was also a low hum that got louder. It was getting closer.

                Conrad didn’t like being pinned. He struggled. He wanted to see what was going on. But it didn’t last for long. With the low hum at its loudest he heard a hissing noise and new, louder footsteps. Before long Conrad felt a sharp pinch and passed out.

                Waking up, Conrad found himself staring through a semi-opaque barrier. It was most likely some sort of energy barrier. These people were so much like the people on Earth! The technology is similar and the anatomy looks similar. There must be so much that’s alike! Which means they can learn so much from each other! Which means there wouldn’t have to be any xenophobia or discrimination based on extra limbs or an extra eye or texture of an alien’s skin or anything like that. Conrad had stumbled upon the one alien species that humanity would be able to interact with easily. He knew this, and he smiled. He laughed! A guard passed by and peered at Conrad through the barrier. And that’s when the realization hit. These aliens were so similar that Conrad wouldn’t be any different.

                Conrad was on an alien planet full of aliens. No, it was a planet full of people. Yet Conrad was unequivocally and inescapably alone.

                “Boy. What a destiny,” Conrad said, pulling his knees up and resting his head on them.