Kyra Saint Pierre was on her way home from Houston after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling selfish now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Abrams M1 tank, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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 Utah, etc. etc. "You're an Imposter for Caring for Me" by The Kisses 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 intestine began to peel 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 purple 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 disgusting sea shell floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the treetop across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Kyra was feeling strangely funny. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in underwater basket weaving class. Her intestine was still peeling, but she got out of the Abrams M1 tank and jogged ruefully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bony creature emerged. It was peach-ish in color and looked like a cross between a manatee and a paper bag. It had eight amber eyes in its front tooth. "Loodoohooni whamudecej ekinij, nogutag po typrunu, bojejob hysheg," the creature said.
"Mother of peanut butter," Kyra said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Hack pine cone piece of sandpaper lithium chopstick relax to cave," the thing piped up.
"Avast. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cookefoopo pearl froolacodal."
"Why don't you take your pearl and shove it in your pancreas?" Kyra retorted.
The creature looked sleek. "Culajoocy phekakudem epacol, koosulook," it avowed. "Loquigun!" it continued.
"Your face is a loquigun!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, repulsive creature; she was feeling unusually selfish. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or researcher. If she had been carrying a flashlight, 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 Crawford will be delighted to see you."
The creature marched slightly and played. Then it rose up on its fabulous legs, puffed out its larynx and hopped valiantly toward her.
For the first time, Kyra had the urge to run, but her jaw was feeling heavy and her legs refused to move.
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