“Looks like rain,” Ricky said as he handed Janice the ice cream. She followed his eyes to the dark mass of cloud forming. She shrugged and didn’t connect in her mind the angry, billowing clouds with the mist she’d momentarily seen. From the corner of the square groups of young men and women moved out of the darkness cast by the shadows of the building. People at first thought they were part of the Farmer’s market, some sort of entertainment, as they were dressed in what appeared to be uniforms, all white and simple one-piece garments.

Rapidly the interest turned to fear, as the hundreds of smiling, clone like youngsters, circled the square, moving in, herding the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Janice asked Ricky but it was more an exclamation of suppressed surprised. Ricky bit his lip, noticing that the strange, but very beautiful young men and women, were letting the fleeing mothers, children, and old folk out of the circle. He looked at Janice and in his alarm held her hand. The two of them were held motionless in the square along with hundreds of other college students out for the day. Ricky observed that the company of soldiers, all young men and a few women, had also been trapped in the human shield formed by these people.

The outlandish group started chanting. The sound took control of mind and body, hypnotizing the youngsters, easing their fear, soothing anxiety. The intruders held their victims with the power of sensual feelings, invading thoughts, joining everyone together so that the square became a place of mass erotic gentle hysteria, the youngsters soon mingling with the outsiders.

Then the dancing started, bodies intertwining arms as they wove in and out across the square. As the young men and women became absorbed in the ritual, the outsiders started to separate them away from the main band and strip them. To the alarm of some onlookers and fascination of others, soon both college kids and strangers were naked, cavorting in lascivious ways.

From the City Hall opposite, the officials had witnessed the scene and soon phones were sounding around the town. Within fifteen minutes truck loads of police and army units had arrived, and the square was surrounded. Many of the police were engaged in controlling the crowds and media that had gathered.

Mayor Flanagan stood with the Chief of Police and a colonel. The army man shifted uneasily. Dealing with civil disturbances was not in his rule book. Fornicating kids were beyond his military remit. He didn’t quite see what pointing guns at them was going to achieve.

“This is disgusting,” the mayor growled, pointing to a group of two men and women engaging in what he had just described as a, “…sordid orgy.” The police chief at his side was also confused. It was difficult to tell the humans from these alien things. Naked skin and young bodies all looked the same to him.

“We’ve got to stop this,” Flanagan spat the word. “Look, that woman is being forced…this is public rape.” The Police Chief looked at Colonel Grimaldi. “I think your men are better marksmen than my cops.”

“Well, get on with it. What the hell have we called the army out for? Shoot these alien things, Colonel,” the Mayor ordered.

Colonel Grimaldi reluctantly signaled to his captain, hesitantly gave him an order and stood back from the Mayor, almost as if to disassociate himself from what might follow. Orders were barked around the square, lines of soldiers coming forward and taking up firing positions.

The crowds on the edge of the square, and the many looking down from the office windows, went silent. All anyone could hear were the musical chants and faint calls from those taking part in this strange sexual dance and performance. Flanagan looked impatiently at the Colonel. The military man nodded to his Captain. Somewhere along the line a lone voice called a stifled, “Fire.”

The volley was almost simultaneous, its echo worse than the original noise.

There was moment of quiet, then a collective scream. Colonel Grimaldi closed his eyes and muttered, “What the hell have we done?”