We first saw them through robotic eyes: the barrel bodies, surrounded a decapod starburst of limbs the size of a moderate paperclip, were alien but unmistakable. Scientists slavered, ecstatic at the proof of life beyond our own racked planet. By the time a subsequent scout arrived on the Jovian satellite, though, we were rudely shocked. Their civilization had flourished, tidy miniature megalopolises covering the surface of Titan. Their capability to launch off of the weak surface gravity was proven a week after discovery.
A month later, invasion. Though we could handle them individually, no human could withstand the order of their magnitude. Billions of billions of tiny craft set down hour after hour, a tide from beyond the stars come to devour us all.
Christopher Gintner was born and raised in southeastern Wisconsin with a deep yearning for the written word. As an adult, he marched westward across the land in search of adventure, inspiration and gainful employment. Upon reaching the Pacific Northwest in 2015, he elected to settle in Portland. He currently supports the booksellers of Powell’s with his refined transportation abilities and pens strange words in his own time.