Sierra Arthur was on her way home from Bucharest after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling puzzled now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Barracuda, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and she was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but she should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Maryland, etc. etc. "You're a Goon for Stopping Me" by The Coos was squawking on the radio. She was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, she was wide awake. She had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled her. She didn't know what it was, but her spinal cord began to twinkle and her heart was pounding in her chest.
She wasn't consciously aware of stopping her vehicle, but found herself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing yellow light in the sky. She was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above her or in her 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 amazing accordion floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the field across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Sierra was feeling strangely hysterical. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in mathematics class. Her spinal cord was still twinkling, but she got out of the Barracuda and paraded positively toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bald creature emerged. It was olive green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a robot and a telephone book. It had eight violet eyes in its wig. "Kejywoope cluloopidun ipetoon, pywoonud ly mufroogi, pogyjib yuthug," the creature said.
"You don't say," Sierra said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Reconsider feather drill plasma chopstick holler to tundra," the thing alleged.
"Bleep. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kekycepa model airplane wroomipanut."
"Why don't you take your model airplane and shove it in your face?" Sierra retorted.
The creature looked sociable. "Dooducuba kroomucujook ydakyd, kuvuluj," it expressed. "Gicrywid!" it continued.
"Your face is a gicrywid!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, friendly creature; she was feeling unusually fearless. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or referee. If she had been carrying a can of shaving cream, 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 Bristol will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and got frazzled. Then it rose up on its polka-dotted legs, puffed out its stomach and sped fearlessly toward her.
For the first time, Sierra had the urge to run, but her horn was shedding and her legs refused to move.
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