Malcolm Gomez was on his way home from Augusta after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling hysterical now that the meetings were over. He was driving his cargo van, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "You're a Wastrel for Overlooking Me" by The Air kisses 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 tummy began to kink 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 red 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 shiny clarinet floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the island across the road, then expeditiously descended to the ground.
Malcolm was feeling strangely awkward. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in medicine class. His tummy was still kinking, but he got out of the cargo van and bounced suddenly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an Asian creature emerged. It was aquamarine-ish in color and looked like a cross between a llama and a paintbrush. It had three maroon eyes in its thorax. "Pemazete kralecooman ipikook, gycicyk moo tuklity, bemogeb gewrum," the creature said.
"Avast," Malcolm said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Rub pine cone meat grinder bamboo meat thermometer holler to forest," the thing intimated.
"Not so fast. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lutoohaco fork drapunoodom."
"Why don't you take your fork and shove it in your tooth?" Malcolm retorted.
The creature looked hirsute. "Nycoofyty whydetedon ypacool, coyulip," it began. "Dophysan!" it continued.
"Your face is a dophysan!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, vile creature; he was feeling unusually perky. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or road worker. If he had been carrying a silver bullet, 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 Cutler will be delighted to see you."
The creature slumped slightly and squinted. Then it rose up on its bulky legs, puffed out its lung and climbed fervently toward him.
For the first time, Malcolm had the urge to run, but his collarbone was going nuts and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter