I have worked for NASA for 12 years, and I'm finally ready to tell someone. No. I have to tell someone. Before it's too late for everyone.

It all began a few years ago. We were working on a project called the "AIE program." The goal of the AIE Program was publicly to test a device that would monitor the chemical makeup of cosmic dust in our solar system, but nothing could be further from the truth. I was placed on the team that was responsible for experimentation. The instructions we received were unreasonably vague, especially for a project so heavily funded. All that we were told was that the device was intended to foster interstellar communication. Our project supervisor was a man named Doctor Adrian Melrose. He was tall and skinny, with long black hair that was so dark it seemed to reflect his surroundings. His face was gaunt, and he had deep wrinkles around his mouth. He spoke with a dignified voice, and even though I felt intimidated by his appearance, I couldn't help but be impressed by his eloquence.

After a short brief we were presented with the device and were told to begin experimentation. It turned out this involved using electromagnetic frequencies to transmit signals across the observable universe. I won't go into too much detail about the science behind it, but we would essentially use the device to send radio waves out into to space. Basically, it was the cosmic equivalent of throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping something would pick up the signal. God I wish it hadn't.

The thing about the device, is that it was not only the most powerful EM wave transmitter we had ever developed, but also the most powerful receiver. This double function was what would hopefully allow us to establish a line of communication. I think this was the point I began to wonder. A line of communication to who? Who were we hoping to reach? The brief had only mentioned establishing communication, but in reality we had no idea if that would ever happen and the chances were exceedingly slim. Or so I thought.

I can't explain how strange it feels to sit here and write this down. To admit the truth as I know it. But there are people whose lives depend on me telling them. Even now I don't want to believe my own words, because they sound so insane. I was the second last person to leave the lab every night. Always making sure that all the equipment was off and secured, before saying goodbye to Dr Melrose. I don't think I ever saw him leave that lab. On one particular evening, I was going through my regular routine of securing equipment while Dr Melrose watched carefully. I said goodbye and turned to leave when I felt a bony hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see him staring at me, with the most panicked eyes I've ever seen. I'll never forget what he said to me.

"Don't answer the call." Dr Melrose uttered, in a low foreboding tone.

I instinctively pulled myself away from his grasp and stared in disbelief. Not sure what to say to this, I muttered some sort of goodbye and rushed out as he stood silently and stared at me with a piercing gaze.

Traffic interrupted my strict morning routine and I arrived at work late, much to the disapproval of my senior researchers. However the frustration was lost ammit the celebration. We had received a response. I should have been excited. I should have been proud. But all I could feel was dread.

"W-what does it say??" I asked anxiously.

"We don't know yet. It's some kind of weird frequency that we can't understand." One of the researchers replied.

Dr Melrose stayed silent and in the corner, the same intimidating aura as always. I couldn't help but glance at him, to see how he was taking the news, but he just avoided my gaze and looked away.

The next few months we all worked towards decoding the transmission. Everyone was in pretty high spirits following the discovery, with the exception of Melrose and I, who looked on with trepidation. With every day that we came closer to decoding the message, my dread grew and grew in the pit of my stomach. And then the day came.

If there's one thing I'd take back in my life it would be coming into work that day. Every instinct told me not to, every nerve burned with the desire to stay as far away from that damned lab as possible. But I went. And I regret it every, single, day. It was Marcus Beckett that made the discovery. He was a young guy, the youngest and least experienced on the team. He had messy brown hair and freckles, and a shaky voice. Despite how he seemed though, he was brilliant. And when he called all of us in to share what he'd found, he had the biggest grin I'd seen from him in 2 years of work. The group crowded around the computer to listen.

I watched in horror as the bright smiles of my fellow researchers dropped into grimaces teeming with regret. The translated message played as follows:

"Evacuate. They are among you. Evacuate. They are among you. Evacuate. They are among you."

The robotic voice's message played over and over until Dr Melrose calmy stepped over to the laptop closed the lid as we all stood around in shock.

"This didn't happen." He declared.

Dr Melrose walked away clutching the laptop. After that the AIE program was cancelled. The official story was that the transmission came from a burst of cosmic energy, and the project was no longer worth funding. All researchers involved were given NDA contracts and let go from their positions. Nobody complained about the termination. I think we all realized that ignorance is bliss, and we wanted nothing more to do with whatever had replied. I still don't know what Dr Melrose meant when he told me not to answer, and I doubt I ever will. For 12 years I've kept quiet. But I realized world needs to know that something is among us. After writing this, I don't think I'll be around long enough to make an update. But it's worth it if means the world knows the truth.