Rocket Dunn was on his way home from Cape Town after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling queer now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Pontiac Firebird, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and he was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but he should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Kansas, etc. etc. "You're a Hipster for Smacking Me" by The Belches was squawking on the radio. He was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, he was wide awake. He had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled him. He didn't know what it was, but his cheek began to get hot and his heart was pounding in his chest.
He wasn't consciously aware of stopping his vehicle, but found himself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing olive green light in the sky. He was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above him or in his own head. The radio for some reason was silent. The light grew larger as it approached, and it began to take on a shape, sort of like a huge bronze pair of dice floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the battlefield across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Rocket was feeling strangely fiendish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in oceanography class. His cheek was still getting hot, but he got out of the Pontiac Firebird and clambered unexpectedly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elegant creature emerged. It was amber-ish in color and looked like a cross between a bandicoot and a hair brush. It had five aqua eyes in its kidney. "Tapyribi chycegedoot ujyjaj, beroocook ka motruno, copootet cotrib," the creature said.
"Meh," Rocket said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Dye bit of moss saw ivory piece of cheesecloth pant to treetop," the thing responded.
"Holy moley. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tegofita flyswatter trugalugat."
"Why don't you take your flyswatter and shove it in your eyebrow?" Rocket retorted.
The creature looked silly. "Pukugepo phobepolyk amoodut, puvimup," it asked. "Notrecyp!" it continued.
"Your face is a notrecyp!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, gargantuan creature; he was feeling unusually cuddly. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or aeronautical engineer. If he had been carrying a bullwhip, the conversation might have taken a very different turn.
"So, what are you here for? I suppose you want me to take you to my leader. I'm sure President Quill will be delighted to see you."
The creature bounced slightly and stared. Then it rose up on its coarse legs, puffed out its skull and bounded deftly toward him.
For the first time, Rocket had the urge to run, but his pituitary gland was getting sticky and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter