Negotiations
First Contact • Clean Sci-Fi • 1947 Roswell
“It wasn’t a balloon.”
Rated PG-13 for social and moral themes.
The Zalmen have arrived on Earth eager to share their wisdom — and form an alliance that could advance humanity by centuries. But when these peace-loving vegetarians discover how humans treat other living creatures, their trust begins to crumble.
In 1947, master diplomat Ryan Wilcox faces the impossible: convince an alien civilization that humanity deserves a chance. One wrong word could destroy the fragile hopes of interplanetary friendship — and spark a conflict Earth can’t possibly win.
Can Ryan find common ground before fear turns allies into enemies?
Or will humanity’s flaws cost them the greatest opportunity in history?
Earth’s Secret Alliance is a collection of clean, family-friendly, uplifting, and thought-provoking first contact stories. Each tale explores moral courage, cooperation, and compassion in a time of global uncertainty — soft science fiction perfect for fans of Star Trek and The Twilight Zone.
(Part 2 of From Roswell to Area 51 — each story also stands alone in the Earth’s Secret Alliance universe.)
Clean-read promise: no profanity • no on-page sex • non-graphic violence • uplifting tone.
Genres & tags
First Contact • Alternate History • Historical Sci-Fi • Clean Sci-Fi • Hopepunk • Military-adjacent (non-grim)
Ideal for
13+ readers who enjoy smart, hopeful sci-fi; teachers & librarians seeking high-interest, low-barrier entry points.
Reading Paths
Start with the Novel
From Roswell to Area 51 revises & expands the early episodes (including this one) and threads Charlie’s retrospective narration.
Or read by Episode
- Roswell: First Contact — Malcolm Dow: Ep. 1
- Negotiations — Ryan Wilcox: Ep. 1
- The Good, The Bad, and the Undecided — Greg Newman: Ep. 1
- Defying Gravity — Mary Goss: Ep. 1
- Charlie’s Big Chance — Charlotte “Charlie” Baker
- The Woundless War — General Frank Jones
Each stands alone; reading order adds depth.
Length: 19k words
Formats: eBook • Paperback • Audiobook (planned)
ISBNs: 978-1-7781914-0-4 • 978-1-0698372-0-2
Reviews & Reader Notes
★★★★★ “Amazing! A very imaginative first contact with an alien race. Great detail and fascinating descriptions.” – Amazon Reviewer
★★★★★ “I really liked this book for a bit of light reading. Humorous in places and not too taxing on the brain! ” – Goodreads Reviewer
★★★★★ “It kept me interested and involved. I’d Like to know more about the main characters. Now I want to see what happens next.” – Amazon Reviewer
Look Inside
Chapter One – An Unexpected Call
July 14, 1947
New York, New York
“You want me to make an alliance with aliens? Did I hear that right?” Ryan couldn’t have been more shocked.
Two days earlier…
Ryan Wilcox tilted his head from side to side, dabbing thick foam across his cheeks, his usual morning ritual. Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of his one-bedroom apartment, the usual hustle and bustle of New York carried on outside his window. He set down the brush and flipped open his razor, slid the blade with practiced ease through the shaving lather.
The day wasn’t unusual. Overcast, thick clouds painted the city in gray tones. It probably would rain later into the afternoon, but for now, the streets were dry.
He patted his cheeks and applied aftershave, then set out into the kitchen, expecting the kettle to be whistling for his morning coffee. A shrill ring filled the living room instead. With a sigh and a longing glance at his comic book and empty mug, he took the handset off the wall.
“Hello?”
A deep voice crackled over the line. “Mr. Wilcox?”
Ryan’s heart raced, and he nearly dropped the phone. “Mr. President?” he asked.
“Yes,” the president replied in a serious, professional tone. “I have an important ambassador position for you and your assistant.”
The president has a position for me! Wait…. “What?” His voice cracked, his throat suddenly dry. Swallowing, he hurried to answer. “I mean, thank you. But I thought you said I’m too young for anything big.”
The president cleared his throat, which sent a wave of static over the line, like someone crumpling paper into the mouthpiece. “Yes…. Well…. This is a unique situation. Top secret. You won’t be able to tell your friends or family where you are going. Are you OK with that?”
“Um…. Yes sir, but where am I going?” Ryan asked.
“There’s not much I can disclose over the phone, but know that should you accept, you’ll be negotiating with a foreign government. They are currently under siege, and they need our help to defend themselves. I’ll have a car pick up you and your assistant on Monday morning to take you to the airport.”
Ryan nodded, then realized the president couldn’t see him. “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”
Without even a reply from the president, the line went dead. Ryan stared at it a moment as the raspy dial tone buzzed from the receiver, much like the buzzing in his own head.
What could be so important that the president would call on a Saturday? He couldn’t help but picture himself being escorted through the unmarked hallways of a secret military base, or perhaps being driven to an obscure location by men in suits. “And where am I going?” he asked aloud to the room. No one answered, obviously, as he lived alone.
Just then, the kettle shrieked, and almost tripped over the twenty-five-foot coiled phone cord as he dashed to the kitchen and turned the burner off. Grabbing the steamy wooden handle of the kettle, almost burning himself, he moved it on to a cool burner. The whistling stopped.
The phone in his hand still buzzed with the raspy dial tone[1] . The president is sending a plane for me and my assistant on Monday. I should probably let Donna know. Sticking his fingers into the dial, he spun it in the familiar pattern of her number.
Chapter Two – On A Hot Desert Highway
New Mexico
“You want me to make an alliance with aliens? Did I hear that right?” Ryan couldn’t have been more shocked if General Jones had dressed up like a rubber chicken drenched head to toe in iced lemonade.
Not that the general seemed like the type to do that. Ryan recognized him, but only in passing. A friend of his father’s, most likely.
The man was high-ranking, too. Four stars gleamed upon his suit. His hair was graying, so Ryan guessed he was in his later years, sixties maybe, but his shoulders kept the broad strength of a soldier in his prime. And the strength Jones carried was of one completely in his element. Ryan couldn’t help but envy him.
Ryan’s assistant, Donna Warren, sat next to him, her legs crossed daintily and her hands in her lap over his traveling briefcase. A black man in sleek glasses drove, a young soldier by the looks of his buzz cut and faded green uniform.
They were sitting in the back of a black stretched limo, not one of those ugly green army ones a general usually rode in. The two rear bench seats faced each other. This must really be important.
They were driving through what Ryan could only describe as the middle of nowhere. Realistically, he knew they were somewhere between the Albuquerque Municipal Airport and their unknown destination, but when he looked out the window, he only saw dirt, sand, and a few green shrubs.
Jones leaned forward, gaze steady. “Yes.”
The word snapped Ryan’s attention back to the man across from him.
“You must be joking!” But the seriousness in Gen. Jones’s tone and the firm set of his face told Ryan that he wasn’t. “How do I form an alliance with an alien race?”
“How did you negotiate the peace treaties?”
The familiar weight of self-doubt settled in Ryan’s chest as he cringed. “…I didn’t. I gave my suggestions to the older and more competent men. They are the ones who negotiated the treaty!” How could anyone think that I’d done all that? I’m only twenty-six!
“I disagree. Yes, they did the negotiations, but they used your work. I’d say none are more competent than you, Wilcox. You are the son of one of the best ambassadors we have, but this requires a younger perspective.” The general smiled.
Ryan caught a twinkle in the general’s eyes. Oh no, what did my dad say?
“Your father tells me you’ve been negotiating since you learned how to talk. He says your mother could never say no to you about anything.”
“I can vouch for that,” Donna said, jumping in with a matching twinkle. She grinned with the same smugness of a cat eyeing a vat of cream. “Well…since middle school, anyway. I helped him practice for the debate team. There wasn’t an argument he couldn’t win.”
Flashes of endless afternoons spent together played behind his eyelids like a film at the cinema. “Yes, but—”
Jones interrupted him. “You learned several foreign languages and cultures from your father’s placements. You have a master’s degree in politics.” He paused. “Yes, you were a junior negotiator when you started, but you worked your way up, and the only things keeping you from being called senior negotiator are your babyface and your age.”
A pinch of annoyance raced down Ryan’s spine at the mention of the familiar nickname. How’d I get stuck with Babyface, anyway? He shook himself.
“The president himself has noticed how hard you’ve worked, and the senior members of your team recommended you for an ambassador position when you’re older.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “They did? They didn’t tell me that. —But that doesn’t change anything! In Paris, I was one of many. Who do I have now?” I can hardly negotiate an alliance with an alien race without a team. Are there more negotiators already at their base, or am I going in alone?
Donna gave an exaggerated gasp. “Um!”
Ryan barely glanced at her. He looked back at Jones, hoping to find all the answers in the man’s lined face.
“In Paris, you were negotiating with multiple countries. Obviously, we can’t bring in a lot of people on this. You’ve mentioned several times that you want an ambassadorship. This is the only way you are going to get one at your age. Your multicultural experience and love of space and science fiction makes you uniquely qualified for the job. The president and I thought you would jump at the chance.” Jones sighed.
Ryan suddenly felt sick. What if I fail? What would that say about me—about my father? He couldn’t blow his first big chance. “I need more time to think it over. Is it possible for me and Donna to speak in private?”
“Sure,” the general said. He glanced over his shoulder through the divider window. “Corporal Dow, stop the car, please.”
The black man, now known to Ryan as Cpl. Dow, eased the limo to the side of the road. The moment it stopped, Ryan threw open the door and stepped out.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said, holding the door for Donna. Beyond seeing one of her feet leave the car, he didn’t wait, walking away at a quick pace, hands sweaty and shaking. Only subconsciously did he register Donna’s hurried footsteps behind him, and her grunts and grumbles about the desert.
He didn’t even speak for the first ten minutes, lost in his own head. Then, he turned to her and felt a spark of guilt at seeing her ruffled form, but brushed it aside and asked, “So, what do you think?”
Donna threw her hair back. Ryan could tell she hadn’t been expecting to walk anywhere. She wore a yellow dress and cream-colored heels—he winced at the thought of her keeping up with him in those. She would wear an outfit like that to the office, not trekking across the desert. At least she’d left his briefcase in the car. No need for her toting that around on top of everything.
“I was as shocked as you were at first,” she admitted, “but it does sound interesting, and I think you’re well suited to it.”
“Well suited to negotiate with aliens?” He gaped at her.
“You know what I mean.”
Yes, he did. They’d been friends for over twelve years now, and she knew him better than anyone else. Ryan sighed and kept walking, a little slower this time. “How am I supposed to negotiate with aliens? It’s never been done before.”
“If anyone can do it, you can,” Donna assured him.
It wasn’t until she grabbed his hand that he realized it was still shaking. Her nails were painted a shade of red to match her lipstick.
“Maybe….” He thought about it, turned the assignment over in his head a few times. A fresh wave of worry washed over him, filling his gut with dread.
Nope! he told himself. Too many things could go wrong. The senior negotiators are right. This is too much for me right now. “No. I’m sure there’s someone else better suited to the job. I’m far too young to be the only one on this assignment!”
Donna frowned at him, annoyed, but then her face turned into a reassuring smile. “You won’t be alone; you have me, and we’ve been an unstoppable team since our first year together, remember?” She locked elbows with him.
“I guess we do make a great team.” He hummed softly.
“Of course we do,” Donna said. “Remember our junior year when we practiced every afternoon, so you’d be prepared to face Theo Turner in the school’s debate tournament finals?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“So…will you take the position?”
“This is a big step. I don’t think they’ll accept me.” He pulled away from her and stalked forward again, hands gesturing wildly in the air. “No one ever takes me seriously! You know what it’s like. In school, we were all the same age, but in the real world, no matter how good you are, they’ll always take it better from an older man!”
“Listen to yourself. All I’m hearing is you flapping your lips, and you know what’s coming out? Bupkis. If you’re trying to argue your way out of this, know that I know all your tricks!” Her hands were in the air, too—in exasperation. “Maybe you should grow a beard, so they don’t call you Babyface.”
Ryan stared at her for a moment, mouth agape. He rubbed his chin. Is that why they call me that?“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m not a rebel.”
Donna nodded sharply, then groaned. “I can’t go any further with these shoes.” She lifted one of her feet to rest it, shifting her hips.
Ryan winced in sympathy as he looked at her shoes again. A quick glance at his wristwatch told him they’d been walking for half an hour. Half of that, he wasn’t even talking! He felt the need to apologize, but it wouldn’t do much about her foot pain. “So, you think I should do it?” he asked her again, just to make extra sure.
Donna stared at him incredulously. She tipped her chin down in another affirmative nod. Ryan took that as a ‘yes’.
“OK, you convinced me,” he said, ignoring Donna’s sigh. He laughed. “Maybe you should be the ambassador.”
“Very funny, wise guy.” Donna shifted her weight to the other foot, nearly stumbling over. She caught herself on his shoulder. “Do you think they can bring the car? I don’t think I can walk that far back.”
Ryan twisted back around to face the limo, which happened to be considerably harder with Donna hanging off him. “We need a ride!” he shouted across the desert.
He saw Cpl. Dow raise two hands to cup his mouth. The man must’ve been yelling, but Ryan couldn’t hear. “They are not getting into the car. They must not want to drive on the desert sand. I guess I wasn’t thinking when I bolted out of the car. We should have gone along the road.” Ryan sighed. “It looks like we are going to have to walk back. Here, take my shoes; it’s the least I can do for making you walk all this way.” He knelt down on the ground to unlace his shoes, feeling the hot sand burning through the fabric of his pants.
“Your shoes won’t fit me, but thanks.”
Ryan tied his shoe back up, and they were walking back when the landscape shimmered, and he swayed, a little dizzy. The desert around them continued to blur—like a mirage. For a moment, Ryan wondered if they’d been out in the sun too long, and if he got heatstroke. He’d had it before—once, as a kid. He didn’t remember much from the experience, only that it wasn’t like this. For one, neither he nor Donna had been slurring their words through that entire conversation, nor did he feel confused.
Another step forward, and suddenly they were somewhere else. His head throbbed, blood rushed through his ears, and his stomach felt like it had decided to take a vacation down to his left ankle. But that wasn’t the weirdest thing. Not at all.
A bald man, mauve in color, stood right in front of him, wearing a funny foil robe. Another man, this one bright blue, sat at a floating desk, staring out at the desert through a window. Donna gasped, so at least Ryan knew he wasn’t the only one going crazy. Oh, he thought, these must be the aliens.
To be fair, when Gen. Jones said alien, Ryan hadn’t been expecting them to look like this. As much as they didn’t look like they belonged on Earth, the men in front of him could’ve just been bald, short humans covered head to toe in body paint, but Ryan knew that wasn’t the case. The way he held himself so confidently told Ryan exactly what he needed to know: This man wasn’t from Earth, and they were on a—spaceship?
The mauve alien stepped forward. Ryan thought he must’ve been about Gen. Jones’s age, but the only indicator of such were the deep lines in his face. He had no hair, and everything about him was mauve—his skin, his lips, his eyes. “You asked for a ride?”
Ryan noticed that the alien’s teeth, which were exposed when he spoke, were familiar and white. He felt himself nodding, and glanced at Donna, whose mouth had dropped open, so he snapped his own shut.
The mauve alien nodded and turned to the other alien. Through the window, Ryan could see the desert landscape fly by in a blur, and suddenly they were at the limo. Jones and Dow were back in the vehicle, and it drove forward, but the spaceship they were in passed them and lowered to the ground.
A few seconds later, the blue alien tapped his desk a few times and said something in a foreign language. “They are on board,” the computer translated. Then he rose and turned to them, bending forward at the waist in a formal bow.
“I welcome you to the bridge of the Ymit. Ymit, in your language, means Hope. I am Captain Agugua. It is an honor to have you with us.” Unlike the purple one, he had a deep and thick accent that Ryan couldn’t decipher. His words were stilted, like some foreigners he’d heard speaking English in the past.
Ryan bowed. “Thank you. We’re glad to be here.”
Agugua returned to his seat. The ship began moving again, startling Ryan once more with how fast and smoothly they moved.
The purple alien spoke in a light tone. “Mr. Wilcox, Miss Warren, I am Ambassador Geogram. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed to them.
Not knowing what else to do, Ryan and Donna returned the bow.
“You might feel a little dizzy after walking through the very strong electromagnetic field that makes us invisible.” Geogram paused for a moment.
Ryan felt like he couldn’t breathe. His pulse quickened in fear.
Geogram raised his forehead and quickly added. “No need to worry; short-term exposure does not harm you in any way.”
Ryan sighed. That’s a relief, he thought and glanced around the ship. The captain said they were on the bridge, but Ryan couldn’t figure out how he flew the ship by tapping his desk. It didn’t look like the bridge of any ship he’d been on before. More like a classroom, though the desks and chairs were magically floating.
Ryan turned to Geogram. “Pardon me for saying so, but you speak English better than I expected. I’ve been to many foreign countries, and I have to say, I can’t even hear an accent.” He couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the captain as he said this. If the ambassador could speak fluent English, that certainly put some of his worries at ease.
“Thank you. I have been listening to your radio transmissions and watching your television for many years. The rest of the crew learned to speak it on our journey here.” Geogram extended a hand toward Agugua. “Except for our dear captain, who said he is too old to learn a new language.”
Agugua turned briefly with a smirk. The desert blur in the windshield became an army basecamp with several tents and army vehicles spread out before them.
Ryan saw a line of army vehicles on one side next to a large barracks tent and a training field. Some soldiers were out doing drills, and Ryan’s heart went out to them for exercising in this heat.
“Welcome to Area Two.” Geogram smiled as he held his hand toward the ship’s pocket door, which opened on its own. Ryan and Donna stepped out onto the ground.
The temporary nausea wasn’t that bad the second time, and it sure beat walking. However, when Ryan turned back to the ship, his jaw dropped. There was no ship. So he reached out, then jumped back in surprise when his hand vanished right off the end of his arm. Holy—!
Donna tapped his shoulder and pointed to the nose of the general’s limo appearing out of nowhere. The rest appeared as it drove off the ship. Ryan heard something pathetic, a few gasping syllables, and it took a few seconds before he realized the sounds were coming from him.
The limo parked, and Jones stepped out, the corners of his lips upturned in amusement. “Mr. Wilcox.”
Ryan snapped his mouth shut again and composed himself. He looked at Donna, who looked back at him, her lips pursed in thought. He knew this expression well. She always did it when unsure about something. Unsure, but excited. Ryan smiled at her.
“This ought to be fun. Are you ready?” he asked.
Donna nodded, and they took the first step toward the general.
For Educators & Parents
High-interest, classroom-friendly. Discussion prompts available in the Classroom Guide. Themes: courage, conscience, bystander intervention, diplomacy vs. fear, bias & first impressions.