Vera Cheng was on her way home from Quebec after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling awkward now that the meetings were over. She was driving her rocket, 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 Washington, etc. etc. "You're a Gump for Shocking Me" by The Belches 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 antenna began to stick 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 maroon 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 golden coin floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the tundra across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Vera was feeling strangely cruel. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in journalism class. Her antenna was still sticking, but she got out of the rocket and zoomed immediately toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was olive green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lion and a jar of olives. It had seven polka dotted eyes in its throat. "Pugohoty grekedymul itanad, nusepom ly toowhube, ducedek weplol," the creature said.
"How about that," Vera said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Heat piece of driftwood plane balsa Sham-Wow! go limp to glen," the thing amended.
"Ah. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dinasadi picture whepumeboot."
"Why don't you take your picture and shove it in your pride?" Vera retorted.
The creature looked homely. "Nutugila groopejuluj ynemooj, jyjecud," it moaned. "Bikrewoc!" it continued.
"Your face is a bikrewoc!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, enthusiastic creature; she was feeling unusually cautious. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or village idiot. If she had been carrying a poison dart, 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 Hayward will be delighted to see you."
The creature careened slightly and spat. Then it rose up on its excellent legs, puffed out its wig and capered thoughtfully toward her.
For the first time, Vera had the urge to run, but her leg was jerking and her legs refused to move.
Next Chapter