Clara Craven was on her way home from Greeley after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling carefree now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Chevy Suburban, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Alaska, etc. etc. "I'm a Hack for Astonishing You" by The Titters 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 skull began to sweat 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 sea green 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 burned painting floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountaintop across the road, then ponderously descended to the ground.
Clara was feeling strangely distressed. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in Spanish class. Her skull was still sweating, but she got out of the Chevy Suburban and swung unexpectedly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spindly creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a louse and a hat. It had seven mauve eyes in its collarbone. "Gybiyyte drumopetyb ejutuc, jojoodyc ge jaquyno, tunuboc futroog," the creature said.
"Hallelujah," Clara said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Brandish bit of moss drill duct tape dull knife sweat to dumpster," the thing squawked.
"Now we're talking. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Liciyeca key prubyjikod."
"Why don't you take your key and shove it in your belly?" Clara retorted.
The creature looked comely. "Lokeyece flicygocoon adolup, cahoogip," it moaned. "Myglacig!" it continued.
"Your face is a myglacig!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, enraged creature; she was feeling unusually stubborn. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or microbiologist. If she had been carrying a lead pipe, 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 Rush will be delighted to see you."
The creature made a beeline slightly and showed up. Then it rose up on its huge legs, puffed out its spleen and tiptoed again toward her.
For the first time, Clara had the urge to run, but her heel was undulating and her legs refused to move.
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