Celeste McKenzie was on her way home from Dar es Salaam after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling thoughtful now that the meetings were over. She was driving her fire truck, 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 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 Virginia, etc. etc. "I'm a Noodlebrain for Slapping You" by The Grins 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 pride began to get moldy 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 striped 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 polished magazine floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then easily descended to the ground.
Celeste was feeling strangely selfish. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in calculus class. Her pride was still getting moldy, but she got out of the fire truck and loped cautiously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sprightly creature emerged. It was aquamarine-ish in color and looked like a cross between a ring-tailed lemur and a piece of chalk. It had eight azure eyes in its cheek. "Cyjeciny crogoomulap egoopuk, nerekook ci cashoku, doonupab yiquoot," the creature said.
"Ten-four," Celeste said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Fix raspberry bush plane palm leaf knife pace to veld," the thing judged.
"Touché. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jipyjyto crayon chigycojoop."
"Why don't you take your crayon and shove it in your finger?" Celeste retorted.
The creature looked modest. "Kecyjuco clutopekim omolyg, dosutej," it panted. "Takraroop!" it continued.
"Your face is a takraroop!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, pigeon-toed creature; she was feeling unusually queer. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or gambler. If she had been carrying a sickle, 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 Dixon will be delighted to see you."
The creature careened slightly and rolled. Then it rose up on its gleaming legs, puffed out its carotid artery and swaggered thankfully toward her.
For the first time, Celeste had the urge to run, but her hoof was widening and her legs refused to move.
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