bhaskar saikia

The invasion began on a bright winter morning, just as the first light swept across the snow-dusted peaks of the Himalayas.

No sirens, no breaking news — just the quiet hum of life going about its business. After all, the war was a secret. Only a few knew. Presidents, prime ministers, scientists buried deep beneath bunkers, and a handful of soldiers armed with weapons the public wasn’t supposed to know existed.

The enemy? Aliens.

They came from a planet whose name we couldn’t pronounce, circling a star so distant its light hadn’t even reached Earth yet. Their species had perfected space travel, leaping across the void using ships that sliced through space like stones skipping over a still pond.

But there was one flaw in their master plan. Time.

For the invaders, the journey from their world to Earth took just under three weeks, ship-time. That’s the beauty — or the curse — of traveling close to the speed of light. While their crew stayed young and fresh-faced, back on their home planet decades passed. Their commanders aged, their families grew old, and the very mission they were sent to complete became a ghost story for a new generation.

When the first wave reached Earth, humans — still armed with primitive missiles and aging fighter jets — fought tooth and nail. Miraculously, we won. Maybe it was sheer luck. Maybe it was the so-called “home advantage” — the way a species, defending its soil, finds strength no calculation can predict.

The aliens retreated, bruised and bitter, swearing vengeance. They turned their ships around and began the long trip home. For them, just another three weeks. For Earth, nearly 80 years passed.

When the same squad of invaders finally returned — battle-ready, expecting human resistance at the same level as last time — they found a planet transformed. The old cities were gone, replaced by glass towers and floating vehicles. Humans, ever impatient, had outgrown their old world, learned new science, and mastered weapons the aliens hadn’t even dreamed of.

The second battle didn’t last long.

From orbit, a single pulse beam shredded the first alien ship before its captain could finish his opening attack broadcast. The rest turned and fled, confused, defeated, and, for the first time, afraid.

Their species could conquer space, but time? Time had already beaten them.

Back home, the new generation of their leaders puzzled over the war reports, wondering how the humans had outpaced them. The answer was simple. On Earth, time moved faster — and so did human innovation.

And so the universe whispered the quiet truth: In the end, it wasn’t firepower, strategy, or numbers that saved Earth.
It was patience.

(A fiction story inspired from yesterday’s blog post)