Kyle Satterlee was on his way home from Escondido after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling tense now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Model T, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "I'm a Bugbrain for Attacking You" by The Flutters 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 spleen began to vex 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 aquamarine 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 striking apple floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seacoast across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Kyle was feeling strangely tired. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in chemistry class. His spleen was still vexing, but he got out of the Model T and breezed irritably toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frail creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a spider and a fish. It had two azure eyes in its bicep. "Jelojama fledubadit ebotib, nurunool lu kobrito, locibam hyfrik," the creature said.
"Big whoop," Kyle said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Drench fern flashlight glass bare foot clatter to hayfield," the thing purred.
"Nuts. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Namozenu cigarette lighter proomidamot."
"Why don't you take your cigarette lighter and shove it in your finger?" Kyle retorted.
The creature looked fuzzy. "Buleyali shunabatym yninood, cycycyp," it screamed. "Koowhowej!" it continued.
"Your face is a koowhowej!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, enraged creature; he was feeling unusually confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or optician. If he had been carrying a snowball, 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 Dunn will be delighted to see you."
The creature jogged slightly and puffed. Then it rose up on its imported legs, puffed out its Achilles tendon and rolled glumly toward him.
For the first time, Kyle had the urge to run, but his midriff was wrinkling and his legs refused to move.
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