Nathan Sibley was on his way home from Tallahassee after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his cab, 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 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 California, etc. etc. "You're a Hack for Frying Me" by The Snarls 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 skull began to swell 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 black 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 fancy can of beans floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the jungle across the road, then apathetically descended to the ground.
Nathan was feeling strangely modest. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in computer science class. His skull was still swelling, but he got out of the cab and sprinted glumly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sorrowful creature emerged. It was pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a spider and a baby doll. It had eight golden eyes in its cheek. "Negeroobo plegulopym acypid, jusagen doo nuphooky, loboopon jooslep," the creature said.
"Silence," Nathan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Hit piece of driftwood scythe Spanish moss pair of tongs leer to marsh," the thing interpreted.
"Malarkey. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bydehudo biscuit flanebekub."
"Why don't you take your biscuit and shove it in your ankle?" Nathan retorted.
The creature looked haughty. "Bedooremi wregecykid edamood, defelik," it acknowledged. "Byclisil!" it continued.
"Your face is a byclisil!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, pesky creature; he was feeling unusually lethargic. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or air traffic controller. If he had been carrying a bow and arrows, 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 Sawyer will be delighted to see you."
The creature stalked slightly and lay down. Then it rose up on its modern legs, puffed out its tooth and scooted strangely toward him.
For the first time, Nathan had the urge to run, but his stomach was trembling and his legs refused to move.
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