Chapter 1: Discovery
1a) Introduction to Alex and Setting
Wed 3rd April 2024
Morning mists lingered like final whispers of the night as the sun crested the eastern hills of the Yorkshire Moors. Its rays filtered through the cloud, casting a soft glow and softening the rugged landscape. Alex Harper’s police car, a dark blue SUV marked only by the gleaming emblem of the North Yorkshire constabulary, navigated the serpentine roads that ribboned across the expansive moors. Its rugged design was well-suited for the unpredictable terrain, with reinforced suspension and all-terrain tyres whispering against the gravel and mud. The car’s powerful headlights pierced the mist, beacons of authority in the remote, windswept terrain.
The Yorkshire Moors, a vast plateau of rolling heather and peat bogs, stretched out in a patchwork of gorse-clad hills and shadow-filled valleys. This morning, like many others, the moors seemed to exist outside of time, relics of an ancient wilderness preserved in the heart of modern Britain. Narrow and infrequently travelled roads wound through quaint villages and past stone cottages dotting the view like relics of a bygone era.
Alex, a man of forty-five with a keen sense of duty etched into his sharp features, drove with practiced ease from years of patrolling this region. His piercing blue eyes mirrored the vast openness of the moors, reflecting a depth often attributed to those who spent their lives in solitude among nature. His morning stubble and slightly unkempt hair suggested a man who prioritised practicality over appearance, a trait that served him well in the rural expanses of North Yorkshire.
That morning, Alex had started his shift with a routine check of the outlying areas of Helmworth, a small market town famed for its medieval church and weekly livestock auctions. He had driven past Lower Helmworth’s ancient stone buildings, noting the early risers setting up stalls for the day’s market. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of moist earth and faint traces of wood smoke from nearby homes.
As he left the village behind, the countryside opened up, revealing the true expanse of the moors. Alex’s route took him past Derwent’s Cross, a lonely intersection named after a centuries-old boundary stone marking the meeting point of four ancient sheep trails. From there, he drove through Brackendale, where the hills rose steeply, their slopes covered in dense bracken beginning to turn golden with the approach of autumn.
The moorland was far more than a mere backdrop to Alex’s daily routine; it was a steadfast companion. Among these hills, Alex found a sense of home, his life deeply anchored to the rhythmic ebb and flow of the seasons and the enduring dance of the natural world. His bond with the land was shaped not by romantic ideals but by profound respect and understanding cultivated over years of serving its communities and safeguarding its rich heritage. The moors were the one constant in his life, a horizon remaining unchanged as the years and seasons passed.
As Alex rounded a bend, the full panorama of the North Yorkshire Moors opened before him. Here, the land was untamed, dominated by heather stretching to the horizon, interspersed with jagged rocks and the occasional stand of weather-beaten trees. The sky above was a vast dome, now clearing as the last morning mist burned away under a strengthening sun.
This part of his morning patrol was always his favourite, a moment of solitude amidst the moors’ vast beauty before the day unfolded with its unpredictable duties. He little suspected that today, something extraordinary would challenge his deep-rooted connection to this land.
1b) The Call
The sharp crackle of the radio pierced the morning’s tranquillity. "Control to Sergeant Harper." Shirley's voice carried its normal clarity and composure. "We've received a report from Mr Thompson of Bingley farm. Over."
Alex snatched up the radio handset. "Harper here, go ahead," he responded.
"He reports something unusual on his property. Details are scarce, but he appears quite disturbed. Could you investigate? Over."
"Roger that, on my way. Harper out."
“Tommy” Thompson was known in the community for his level-headedness, which made his current unease all the more alarming. Alex redirected his vehicle towards the farm. The Bingley farm nestled on the eastern edge of the moors, a scenic route Alex knew well, having patrolled it countless times before. As he drove, the vista transitioned from wild moorland to a more structured farmland environment, where stone walls partitioned off the rolling fields from the untamed heather.
His mind raced with possibilities. Tommy was not one to make a fuss over nothing. The nature of rural police work often involved dealing with unusual situations—from livestock thefts to the occasional lost tourist wandering too far from the hiking trails. Yet, something suggested this was no ordinary call. Alex felt a stir of anticipation; it was not often that something truly out of the ordinary came his way.
As he approached the farm, the imposing silhouette of the Thompson farmhouse came into view, its ancient stones bearing witness to centuries of rural history. The vehicle crunched along the gravel path leading up to the farmyard, disturbing a flock of birds pecking idly at the ground. They flew in a flurry of wings, adding to the sense of something impending.
Tommy stood waiting for him by the gate, his ruddy face unusually pale, his eyes wide and alert. "Alex, thank goodness," he called on Alex’s approach. His voice carried a tone bordering on reverence. "After I called about the strange thing in the field, I went back out to take another look — that's when I spotted him lying there beside it. I haven't touched anything, mind you. It’s like nothing I've ever seen before, and him, just out cold on the ground like that."
Together, they hastened through the farm, passing the quiet barns and the livestock, now seeming to sense the tension in the air. The usual rural scents of fresh hay and animal musk were there but tinged with a sharper edge, a crispness charged with urgency. An unmistakable sense of the unknown now overshadowed the familiarity of the farm as each step brought them closer to the unsettling discovery awaiting in the field.
As they neared the field in question, Alex’s pulse quickened. The description Tommy had been unable to provide over the phone awaited him, promising to be as bizarre as the morning’s earlier calm was peaceful. What lay ahead could very well be a routine part of his job, or it might just be the beginning of something far beyond his usual rural police duties.
1c) Initial Discovery
The journey through the familiar farm setting had done little to prepare Alex for what awaited. They arrived at a part of the property that Tommy rarely used—a remote pasture bordered by dense thickets of bramble and ancient stone walls overgrown with moss. As they traversed the uneven ground, the reason for Tommy’s unease became quickly apparent.
In the middle of the field, a spherical object lay, unlike anything Alex had ever encountered in his years of policing the moors. It was metallic, perfectly smooth, and emitted a faint hum that resonated with the quiet of the surrounding moorland. The sphere was about three metres in diameter, its surface reflecting the overcast sky with almost mirror-like perfection. It looked surreal, as though a piece of a futuristic spacecraft had inexplicably found its way to this forgotten corner of North Yorkshire.
Beside the sphere, a man lay sprawled on the ground, face down, unconscious. His attire caught Alex's attention—it was sleek and form-fitting, made of a fabric shimmering subtly in the morning light, suggesting a high-tech origin. On his shoulder, a name badge adorned with characters was visible. The writing style appeared oriental, though Alex could not determine its exact origin; it was neither Cyrillic nor Latin but something different and enigmatic.
"After I called you about the sphere, I took another look around the field, and that's when I found him here, like this," Tommy whispered, his voice barely audible as if reluctant to disturb the profound silence enveloping the field. "I haven't touched him or it. Been waiting for you to arrive."
Alex’s mind raced as he took in the scene. Protocol dictated caution. He quickly pulled out his radio to call for medical assistance, his voice steady, projecting the situation's urgency. "Harper to control. Request immediate ambulance support at Bingley farm. Inform the chief we have an incident involving an unidentified object and a casualty. Urgent assistance required."
While waiting for the emergency services, Alex began a preliminary inspection, careful not to touch the sphere or the unknown man. He circled the object, noting its lack of seams or openings. It was as if the sphere had been crafted from a single, unbroken mould — and materialised whole, right here among the bracken and wildflowers of the Yorkshire scenery.
The unconscious man showed no apparent signs of injury, but his condition was clearly serious. Alex checked for a pulse, relieved to find it strong and steady beneath his fingers. Whatever had happened here, the man was alive but in dire need of medical attention.
As Alex stood up, his gaze returned to the mysterious sphere. It was an enigma, a silent challenge to the normalcy of his daily routine. The sphere was perfectly round, with no visible joins or fastenings hinting at its assembly. An impeccably smooth surface, polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflected the grey sky and the undulating green of the surrounding expanse. The metal, if it indeed was metal, was unlike any Alex had seen, possessing a lustrous quality that seemed to absorb and radiate light all at once.
The sphere's positioning was an enigma, set in an otherwise undisturbed field. Curiously, a line of two indentations led up to where it rested; the first was about ten metres away and shallow, while the second, about 20 metres away, was noticeably deeper. This peculiar pattern suggested the sphere might have bounced to its current location, yet, perplexingly, there were no trails indicating it had rolled across the grass. The lack of any disturbances around it only deepened the mystery of its arrival in Tommy’s field.
The quiet hum it emitted was almost calming, yet it underscored the utter strangeness of the circumstances. Alex pulled out his notebook, jotting observations and noting every detail that could help to understand what exactly had landed so quietly yet disruptively in the field. As he wrote, he circled the sphere at a respectful distance, trying to spot any markings or features that were out of view on his first inspection. Every angle provided new reflections but no new answers. It remained inscrutable and immaculate, an alien presence silently making the Yorkshire moors its temporary home.
The ambulance sounded in the distance, its siren contrasting the surreal calm of the scene before him. Alex took a deep breath, steadying himself. He was the first responder, the first to face this mystery, and perhaps the key to unravelling it. As the medical team arrived, bustling into action, Alex's role shifted subtly from caretaker of the public order to guardian of a potential cosmic enigma.
The field, once just a backdrop to the pastoral serenity of rural Yorkshire, was now a stage for a drama seeming to reach far beyond. As he coordinated with the paramedics, Alex focused on the broader implications of his find. What was this sphere? Who was this man? And most importantly, what did their appearance here mean for the safety and security of his community?
1d) Assessing the Situation
As the paramedics tended to the unconscious man, Alex's attention returned to the object. Despite its otherworldly appearance, his training kicked in, grounding him in procedure and caution. Photographing the object from various angles ensured the images captured its sheen, the surrounding area, and the lack of any marks of impact—a fact that deepened the mystery of its arrival.
"I need to secure this area," Alex announced, his voice carrying an edge of authority. He instructed Tommy to remain behind the police tape he was setting up. "No one goes near this until we understand what it is. That includes the press, locals, and everyone. We don’t need rumours starting up."
Tommy assented, his usual jovial demeanour subdued by the morning’s events. "Of course, Alex. You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do?"
"Absolutely," Alex responded, appreciative of the farmer's cooperation. Then, with the perimeter securely established, he followed protocol by informing his superior about the peculiar occurrence. He pulled out his mobile phone and dialled the chief inspector’s office number. The secretary answered the phone promptly.
"Chief inspector's office, how may I help you?"
"Hi, this is Sergeant Harper. I’m currently at Bingley farm where I’ve encountered an unusual situation. There’s an unidentified object and a man unconscious beside it. The man is wearing some kind of uniform, possibly oriental, with writing on it. I’ve secured the area, and the incident is contained. But I thought it necessary to inform the chief inspector," Alex explained, calmly relaying all relevant details.
"Thank you, Sergeant Harper. The chief inspector is in a meeting at the moment, but I’ll make sure your message is relayed as soon as she is available," the secretary assured him.
"Thank you," Alex replied, ending the call. Returning the phone to his pocket, he surveyed the scene again, the sphere and the unconscious man extraordinarily standing out from an otherwise ordinary field. Despite the strange circumstances, Alex felt grounded in his duty, reminded that following procedure was crucial even in the face of the unknown.
The paramedics, well-trained in handling delicate situations, were preparing to transport the unconscious man to the hospital with practiced precision and quiet efficiency. One carefully supported the man's neck to ensure his spine remained aligned, while the other gently lifted his legs.
As they placed the man on the stretcher, they did so with great care, securing him with straps to stabilise his position. A thermal blanket was then unfolded and draped over him to preserve body heat, a critical measure to prevent shock given his unknown condition and the cool breeze sweeping across the moor.
Once securely positioned, the medics wheeled the stretcher towards the waiting ambulance, choosing a path clear of the mysterious sphere. The team’s avoidance was not merely procedural but instinctive, reflecting a natural caution given the unexplained circumstances of the man's discovery.
They communicated in low, concise tones, each phrase a testament to their focus and the seriousness of the moment. Reaching the ambulance, they lifted the stretcher with synchronised effort into the vehicle, where various medical equipment awaited. Quickly, they began to assess the man’s vital signs, attaching sensors and preparing IV lines with swift, assured motions.
Unanswered questions thickened the air, each medic moving with the weight of the unknown pressing down upon them. As the ambulance doors closed, Alex felt relief and a heavy realisation that the mystery was far from over. The ambulance’s engine hummed to life, and with a wave from a medic, the vehicle pulled away, its lights flashing as it disappeared down the winding road.
1e) Securing the Area and Reflection
With the ambulance gone, Alex returned his attention to the sphere. The field was now quiet; the earlier commotion subdued into a thoughtful silence. He trod the perimeter he had set up, his boots crunching softly on the underbrush, ensuring the tape was secure and visible. A routine task, maybe, yet his mind was anything but still. Each step introduced a new angle and perspective on the gleaming object sitting so incongruously in the middle of the North Yorkshire countryside.
Tommy stood at a respectful distance, his earlier anxiety replaced with a quiet curiosity. "Never seen anything like it, Harper," he said, his voice low, almost reverent. Alex agreed, scanning the sphere’s smooth, metallic surface. It offered no answers, only reflecting the cloud-streaked sky above and the green earth around.
"Neither have I, Tommy," Alex replied, his voice carrying awe and caution. "Keep this under wraps for now, yeah? Until we know what we’re dealing with."
"Of course," Tommy affirmed, his gaze lingering on the sphere before he turned back towards his farmhouse, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts.
The midday quiet was now fully upon him, the sun in the sky casting short shadows lightly around his feet. Alex took out his notebook again, flipping it open to a new page. He began to jot down his thoughts, not just the observations and facts meticulously noted, but his feelings about the morning’s events. Not his usual procedure in the least, but then, nothing about this day was normal.
As he wrote, he contemplated the implications of what the sphere could be. Was it a satellite, a drone, or perhaps something military? Yet none of these possibilities seemed to fit the complete lack of markings, the absence of any visible seams or openings, or the strange, humming vibration permeating the air around it. The more he thought, the more he felt that something truly extraordinary had happened, something that might not just be beyond his experience but perhaps beyond his understanding.
Alex paused, his pen hovering over the paper. He looked around at the sprawling moors and felt the vastness of the sky above and the deep, ancient ground beneath. This sphere, whatever it was, had chosen to appear here in a place timeless and remote. The responsibility of what to do next weighed heavily on him, a testament to the role he played not just as a police officer but as a guardian of these lands.
Alex sighed and closed his notebook. He decided to take a final walk around the perimeter, needing to reassure himself that everything was as secure as possible. As he went, he felt the eyes of the moors on him, the silent, watchful gaze of nature bearing witness to human curiosity and its endless quest for answers.
The day was far from over, and Alex knew the unfolding situation would soon catch his superiors' attention, prompting directives that could change the course of his enquiry. But for now, in this brief lull, he allowed himself a moment just to be—to stand amidst the unfolding mystery and wonder of it all. His mind teemed with questions as he gazed at the silent sphere under the vast Yorkshire sky: What was this object? Where did it come from? And most importantly, what did its presence mean for them all? Prepared for whatever might come next, Alex felt the hand of fate pushing him towards revelations that might alter everything he knew.
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