PROMPT: I not only use my Story Engine deck for story ideas, I also regularly turn to daily writing.com contests. The Writer’s Cramp prompt due July 20, 2026 was: In honor of the July 20, 1969 Moon landing—for your prompt today, imagine that for one minute during the Moon landing, all communication between Earth and the astronauts was lost. What happened during those sixty seconds? This story came to me in a flash as soon as I read the prompt.

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Brilliant light filled the capsule the instant the spacecraft lost contact with Mission Control, and time stood still.

“What the…” Armstrong started.

“WE ARE THE…” a digitized voice blared over the speakers as the crew doubled over in pain, hands pressed uselessly against the sides of their helmets.

“… Arusians,” the volume decreased to tolerable levels. “We are guardians of the Seeds of Humanity and come with a warning for your planet.”

Armstrong activated the craft’s recorder.

“You drive your planet to a premature death. Should your leaders continue on this path of ecocide, you narrow your options to save your home world. We have sought to show you the way, but you ignored our repeated warnings. Now is the time for change, you are on the cusp of tipping over the point of no return. We will intervene to save your planet should you continue on your current path.”

Collins looked around at the rest of the crew, locking eyes with Armstrong. He gave a thin smile.

“How do we convince them to put away their grievances? The greed?” he asked, half to himself.

“Your leaders say you are the best and brightest of your fellow humans, you will find a way.”

Aldrin rolled his eyes at that. Collins saw him chew the inside of his lip. Armstrong wore a pensive look, but said nothing aloud.

“What does ‘intervention’ mean?” Collins finally asked, voice soft.

“We will cleanse the worst of the parasites from the planet’s surface.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked, looking around at the rest of the crew.

“We must see significant change before our redemption flotilla crosses the heliopause into your solar system. Once they enter the heliosphere, it is too late.”

“How long will that be?” asked Armstrong.

“Seventy-five of your Earth years.”

“Seventy-five years,” whispered Aldrin.

“What happens if our leaders refuse to listen?” asked Collins.

“The parasite will be removed and the planet will be re-seeded.”

“Re-seeded?” asked Aldrin. “What does that even mean?”

“Sentient life will be eradicated. When the damage to your planet has healed, we will return with additional human genetics and begin again. Observe.”

A vision appeared to them. War. Pestilence. Famine. Disease. Drought. Floods. Civilizations collapsing. Every disaster the world had ever known played in their minds. Until finally sentient life vanished, and all that remained were plants and animals, creatures of the land, sea, and air. Cities fell into dust, reclaimed by rivers and forests. As the scene played, they had the sense of hundreds and thousands, maybe millions of years passing before the first humanoid creature poked its head from the underbrush.

“How long will that take?” Armstrong asked.

“Your leaders will decide. You have seen the scenario that will occur if your leaders maintain their present course of action. The more damage sustained in the next fifty revolutions, the longer Earth will remain uninhabited by sentient species.”

“Oh man,” Collins slumped in his seat.

“Even now, we monitor your world. Greed and lust for power controls all. We stood by as two other planets in your system took the same direction. Both are now inhabitable, and never again support life. We will not allow Earth to follow the same trajectory. The choice is yours. You are warned.”

The bright light vanished, and a moment later static filled the speaker.

“… this is Mission Control, come in, Commander Armstrong. Come in, Apollo.”

“Mission Control, Armstrong here, good to hear your voice, Deke. Communications are restored, we have cleared the dark side of the moon.”

Cheers erupted through the speakers, drowning out anything else Mission Control had to say.

Armstrong looked down at the control panel. The recording light blinked. He turned the recorder off, backing it up to listen to the alien warning.

Instead of the machine voice he expected, static followed. He increased the listening speed of the machine. Fifteen minutes of white noise filled the cabin before they finally heard the message from Mission Control. No one said a word.

“They aren’t gonna to believe us, you know,” Aldrin said.

“I know,” replied Armstrong, “but we still have to try.”