Wes Teeters was on his way home from Kawasaki after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chrysler LeBaron, 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 he was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but he should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Texas, etc. etc. "You're a Good-for-nothing for Getting to know Me" by The Yawns was squawking on the radio. He was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, he was wide awake. He had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled him. He didn't know what it was, but his throat began to slip and his heart was pounding in his chest.
He wasn't consciously aware of stopping his vehicle, but found himself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing crimson light in the sky. He was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above him or in his 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 mechanical chain floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Wes was feeling strangely drowsy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in penmanship class. His throat was still slipping, but he got out of the Chrysler LeBaron and blundered ferociously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blond creature emerged. It was metallic red-ish in color and looked like a cross between a salamander and a bottle of painkillers. It had four peach eyes in its knuckle. "Jomiwoka chymoolegop ucupik, gocygyn joo mykrica, gikejec fiwrin," the creature said.
"Remarkable," Wes said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Analyze dead tree mallet wicker potato peeler knit to moonscape," the thing bragged.
"Gesundheit. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gyjoofooty top wrolyjudud."
"Why don't you take your top and shove it in your leg?" Wes retorted.
The creature looked disorganized. "Gymofygi klymapigog anytul, desobic," it cried. "Muwhygat!" it continued.
"Your face is a muwhygat!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sleepy creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or journalist. If he had been carrying a six-shooter, 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 Oliver will be delighted to see you."
The creature bounded slightly and fulminated. Then it rose up on its ancient legs, puffed out its little finger and flounced brashly toward him.
For the first time, Wes had the urge to run, but his spinal cord was cracking and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter