Marco glanced absently at the empty
space outside the tram window. The well known roads, the Rome that he knew
suddenly seemed alien to him.
All has changed in less than a
month.
Yeah. Just a few days before on Mars
water was discovered. And the ruins of an unknown civilization emerged from
the red sands of the planet.
The Martians existed!
The world was scrambled from
talkshows, on the web a lot of chatrooms and forums were flooded by posts,
articles and pictures of the new discover. Everybody wanted to known,
everybody wanted to understand. Who were the Martians and, in particular,
where did they fly?
Marco got out near San Giovanni and
his glance caressed the Roman wall, with a lump in his throat stepped over
the basilica towards the Colosseum. When he reached the obelisk he looked to
the sky, wondering.
Slowly the mass media had succeded
in making the truth emerge, the news was too large to continue to hide.
The evidence of the Martian races
was lurking under the ground of Mars. Almost without atmosphere the red
planet had covered everything with its red sand. In a few days settlements
and cities were discovered.
The photos revealed that the
buildings were astonishing identical to our own: the south American
pyramids, were the same as those of Mars.
Marco stepped in front of a travel
agency with windows full of pictures of the great human cities such as New
York, Paris and London, and shook his head.
And all this until now seemed human.
Only human, he though. He walked down the street toward the Colosseum which
seemed waiting huge and famous with its 2000 years of history, there, in the
middle of Rome. But everything that once seemed familiar to him, now seemed
strange and unknown.
The news was spreading only on the
web at the beginning.
The picture of the bas relief which
showed the profile of a man in a starship was made on Mars, and had too many
elements in common with some well-known South American relics. Since then
somebody had begun to understand. After the TV shows the news became of
public domain: Martian had landed in South America. Maybe they were the
Atzecs. Maybe the Atzecs have seen the aliens, maybe they descended from the
Martians.
There were too many possibilities.
The only sure thing was that the Martians have the same shape as us. There
those was who talked of a big hoax, but the world had still changed its way.
The culture and the history had taken a clear turn and now were going in
another direction.
Marco realized that something was wrong.
He knew that something important was still unrevealed.
Secret meetings of world leaders and great scientists take place every day.
But politics, football and wars weren’t on the agenda. On television there
was only one topic: Mars.
His eyes stareed at the big columns
of the Forum Romanum, Marco wondered: the culture, the civilization of which
he felt a son was a civilization partly impoverished of its own identity.
Now it was an unknown civilization.
The truth had come suddenly,
unwanted, undreamed, as a punch in the stomach. It had emptied the bellows
and had made his head spin.
We are the Martians!
This was the headline of all the
newspapers.
We, a millennia ago, landed on the
Earth after having destroyed Mars and having emptied it of every type of
resource. Humanity doesn’t exist, has never existed, or better the
Terrestrians and the Martians are the same thing: the same race. Only bugs
and dinosaurs existed on Earth, the Martians landed in Mexico and from there
they had colonized the planet.
Marco was waiting at the bus stop
looking at the Colosseum with different eyes, perplexed and confused.
Now the history should be rewritten.
this short tale is translated by me, so sorry for the mistakes.
The Author
