The Planetary Roundtable had become part of the community's daily routine.
Each morning Buck Rogers stopped beneath the suspended crystal Earth before beginning his rounds. Most mornings the glowing globe showed little more than the familiar stars surrounding the Glove.
This morning was different.
One tiny point of light appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
Buck narrowed his eyes.
By the time Samuel, Galileo, Elias, Rebecca, and Mike gathered around the orb, six tiny lights hung motionless beyond Earth's atmosphere.
No alarms sounded.
No warnings flashed.
They simply remained there.
Watching.
Galileo folded his arms.
"They've been there all night."
Elias looked thoughtfully at the display.
"They're keeping their distance."
Rebecca tilted her head.
"They haven't tried to contact us."
"No," Galileo answered. "Only observe."
Mike stared at the glowing points for a long moment before breaking into a grin.
"That happens at carnivals all the time."
Everyone looked toward him.
"Early arrivals," he explained. "They always think they deserve special treatment."
Buck laughed.
"I never thought I'd hear alien spacecraft compared to carnival customers."
Mike shrugged.
"People are people."
Even if they come from another world.
The little group stood quietly beneath the floating crystal Earth.
Above them, unseen beyond the Glove, several spacecraft continued their silent vigil.
Samuel finally settled his hat firmly on his head.
"Watching us might be their work," he said.
He glanced toward the tomato fields where wagons were already moving between neat green rows.
The sawmill whistle echoed across the valley.
Milkmaids crossed the pasture carrying bright steel pails.
From Rebecca's kitchen drifted the smell of fresh bread.
Hammers rang from the new pantry.
Children laughed somewhere near the schoolhouse.
Samuel smiled.
"But we've got work of our own."
Without another word he started walking toward the fields.
Rebecca returned to her kitchen.
Buck picked up his clipboard.
Galileo and Elias headed toward the Roundtable to continue refining the crystal Earth.
Mike tipped his hat toward the silent lights overhead.
"Don't worry," he said softly.
"We'll open the gates when it's time."
High above the planet, the observers watched the settlement return to its ordinary rhythm.
No soldiers assembled.
No defenses were raised.
No speeches were made.
The people simply continued planting, building, baking, teaching, milking, sawing, and helping one another.
One of the silent observers recorded a final note.
Civilization appears stable.
Recommend continued observation.
Below, no one knew the report had been written.
The Good Earth had become exactly what its people had hoped.
Not a fortress.
Not an empire.
Simply a home.
And somewhere beyond the stars, others had begun to wonder what kind of people could build such a place.
