The sky opened, and the moons came down with the orphans of another world.

Urban Park Ranger Minji Lin Yun was leading a Natural Classroom with 30 students and two teachers. She was going over the ecosystem highlights, discussing how the plants, animals, and humans are connected.

“Just like neighbors,” Minji said.

A little girl watched as a bird put a straw wrapper in its nest. “I don’t think we’re very good neighbors…” she said as she held her toy cat plush.

Minji’s smile didn’t change but she sighed internally. Nature mixing with litter was not on the lesson plan today but it was an example of interaction between species after all.

This was the high point of the job. Usually she was giving the same violators the same citations that they would ignore just like her.

Minji loved watching the look of kids raised in the City experiencing the closest thing to a wilderness. Kids still treated her like she mattered.

She felt it before she saw them. A staccato of booms from way above their heads that vibrated her bones. Everything seemed to go silent as she and everyone else in New York City looked up to see dozens of matte white spheres descending like they were going down a set of invisible stairs. They weren’t just falling like cannon balls but intelligently controlling their descent from high in the atmosphere. They were right on top of her and the kids, their view completely inhibited.

As the craft grew closer, they looked like moons the size of brownstones. They were pockmarked, dented, and cratered. The objects stopped descending and the park erupted into screams.

She wanted to scream too, “I need an adult,” she thought “Crap! I am an adult! I need a more adult, adult!”

Two of the objects broke formation and descended. Minji’s pulse pounded in her ears as she watched.

Her radio came to life, “Everyone clear the area! Get as far away from those things as you can! Evacuate! Now! Get outta there! Move ya butts!”

The accent was as thick as the air.

Minji felt resolve flowing through her as she reached and turned down the volume. Taking a deep breath, she counted, “Hana, dul, set… net…” and put on her blue aviator sunglasses to give herself some greater sense of authority.

“Hey! Eyes on me! Eyes on me! Move to the tree line CALMLY ok?!”

The kids and teachers believed even if she didn’t believe herself.

“You guys are doing great! Proud of you!”

Everything flashed in her mind “are we under an attack? No, they would have already done something. These ‘moons’ look like they were fired on and these things looked like giant stone balls with no way to fire back.”

It reminded her of pictures her grandmother had that were passed down from Korea, from the war. It reminded her of images on TV, of concrete pelted with craters from bullets, of far flung corners of the world that she would never see. Other people scrambled but whether because she was brave or foolish, Minji stood firm. If these weren’t battleships, were they lifeboats?

The grass rippled as the two ships came down. There were helicopters flying around now, people were recording the moment. As the ‘moons’ shaded her from the sun, then Minji took off her sunglasses and hung them from her shirt pocket.

CLICK-CLUNK

The two craft touched down and heard two mechanical notes like the door chime of an old bodega she went to with her grandmother. As a breeze wafted in her direction, Minji could smell fire and ozone. Doors were opening on one craft. There was light inside and figures.

Children screamed.

A tall figure began to exit the moon. Minji tried not to shake. The figure was tall and broad. They were obviously a warrior to anyone who could see; dented and stained body armor on top of a dirty suit. One hand rested on the pommel of a sword on their waist, a long curved blade like a scimitar. Their other hand was on their chest, cradling a bundle of fabric. They wore a helmet that looked like a lynx or a puma’s head. She marveled how the armor looked ancient and modern all at once and how intricate the design of the golden helmet was, like it was actually covered in fur. Then the ears of the ‘helmet’ twitched. The eyes blinked. Not a helmet.

“That’s a face, oh my god that’s its face…”

she put on a smile to keep from panicking. The bundle in the other arm twitched and the big hand on the sword left the weapon and began to caress the tiny furry face of another creature, a baby.

“Aww…” the sound left Minji’s mouth and the eyes of the warrior shot in her direction, then slowly blinked. It was the same look an exhausted parent would give on the subway. It was an acknowledgement of being acknowledged. The feline nodded exhaled slowly and turned their attention back to the infant in their arms.

CLICK-CLUNK

The doors to the other craft opened. Minji looked over her shoulder at the children and then put on her most convincing grin. To her left she watched as a robed figure emerge from the ‘moon.’ She could see little figures behind them. This one looked like an emaciated jaguar. Their tan and khaki robes looked dirty and worn. She looked into their greenish yellow eyes and watched them blink slowly like a house cat asking for trust. Their lips were curled into the same fake grin as hers.

She instinctively raised a hand in a greeting as they walked towards each other and the thin feline did the same.

“Hey there!” Minji said then came the shrieks from inside the ‘moon.’ Something squeezed at her heart but it wasn’t fear. She had heard the same sounds coming from the 30 young souls behind her.

Then came shushing sounds, just like she made to calm the children.

“There’s kids in there…” she said aloud, “scared kids…” she could feel her legs moving as she approached and then she heard something else, something that sounded like purring and chittering.

Other furry faces, little ones, peered out the door. Their tattered tunics were dirty but the children themselves were not. She understood immediately that this was a fellow teacher or caretaker. Someone who was looking after children. She looked to her right at the massive warrior with the baby.

“If we’re being invaded,” she thought, “they’re doing a really bad job if they’re sending kids first.”