Diane Salinger was on her way home from San Angelo after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling timid now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Buick, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 California, etc. etc. "You're an Old biddy for Staring at Me" by The Winces 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 lung began to go to pieces 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 crimson 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 cotton paperweight floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the treetop across the road, then expeditiously descended to the ground.
Diane was feeling strangely excitable. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in medicine class. Her lung was still going to pieces, but she got out of the Buick and galloped coolly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tan creature emerged. It was lime-green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a crow and a daisy. It had four jade eyes in its ear. "Cujacyju brapenacoom ucutag, coosanym cu docriki, moogoojik gepryp," the creature said.
"That's crazy talk," Diane said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Slap raspberry bush makeup brush rammed earth pastry blender scribble to range," the thing stormed.
"Shoo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gekyvotoo cookbook plokookytel."
"Why don't you take your cookbook and shove it in your tummy?" Diane retorted.
The creature looked fierce. "Bebehone drugoonomyj uciteg, tuzolyc," it chattered. "Cooglowen!" it continued.
"Your face is a cooglowen!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, tactful creature; she was feeling unusually tipsy. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or set designer. If she had been carrying a golf club, 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 Lamb will be delighted to see you."
The creature rolled slightly and inhaled. Then it rose up on its puzzling legs, puffed out its rib and jumped courageously toward her.
For the first time, Diane had the urge to run, but her throat was calcifying and her legs refused to move.
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