Aliens, Tequila & Us: The complete series

by Michael Herman

  “Finally, she tried once more and had success. We needed to swim underwater to an adjacent cave and surface there, regroup and swim underwater to the next air pocket, and then make a long underwater swim to where the water saw the light of day. The problem was the swims were too long. We would all drown attempting to go from point A to point B. So Sonnet, bless her imaginative heart, came up with avatars that swam with us and supplied us with air while underwater. We practiced with the avatars underwater until we all managed to suck air without gagging and choking. As disgusting as it was to have to suck air from the mouths of those things she conjured up, it was a blessing. We would never have made it without those creatures. We did it as a group. And the avatars pulled us along, speeding our passage underwater. We would have all died if not for her avatars.

  “She was burned out by the time we got to the end. She was gagging and choking on inhaled water when she surfaced. We dragged her and ourselves out of the stream and rested there by the water for a full day. No one had the strength to move. We were glad to be out in the rain and fresh air.

  “A day later, we moved into the jungle and came across some friendly pygmies who gave us food. But Sonnet’s snake around her throat freaked them out. They didn’t know what to make of it. They were torn between killing or revering it and her; there were two camps of thought among them.

  “What brought them over to her side was when one of the pygmies was brought to her, wounded by a snake bite and doing badly. She laid hands on the wound and managed to draw the venom from his entire body. Witchy stuff. The guy recovered in a few hours and she became Saint Sonnet to them. That brought an unexpected problem. Now they refused to let her leave. They wanted her protection forever. They feared snakes and saw her as their protector.

  “We became their captive, which was not in Sonnet’s scheme of things. Over time she recharged enough to conjure avatars that scared off the pygmies while we made our exit. She had the avatars chase the pygmies far in the opposite direction of where we were going.

  “Once freedom was achieved, we tackled going home. She was able to make the psychic connection with the Bangala Elongó who traveled with the second team was looking for us, and eventually, we all hooked up. Now here we are, like returning from a day at Disneyland, worn out and ready to sleep for a long time.”

  “Wow.” I nod towards his pinky finger that’s being bandaged by Twizzle who is working on him. “And your finger?”

  He snorts a small laugh. “Monkey bite. Trying to make a meal out of an unwilling monkey. Can’t blame it. Survival and all that stuff. Price of a good meal.”

  “What about Sonnet? She said she was sick and needed Kitoko and Kinshasa. Twizzle watched for a bit while they did what she called ‘Voodoo stuff.’ Sonnet is sick with whatever disease is sweeping the north?”

  “No, thank God. She said we were all ‘selected’ and wouldn’t get sick. I don’t know how that works, but I do know I am damn glad we didn’t come down with whatever is out there. Those people, it affects their lungs. They bleed out through their nose and mouth, coughing and gurgling as they drown in their own blood. Their lips turn purple and black in death. Blood is everywhere and the smell is atrocious.”

  “Twizzle stank of sickness when you brought her to us.”

  “Yeah. She carries the odor but is unaffected by the disease. It did something to her, but not what it did to the villagers we came across.”

  “What of the snake she wore around her neck? What happened to it? It’s not there now.”

  “Aagh! That damn snake. It’s stowed away. We threw it in a bag and then put the bag in a metal tackle box in the helicopter. We brought it back with us. I’m guessing it’s been brought into the compound with the rest of the gear. I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. Let Sonnet do her thing with it. Has she said anything about it?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk with her, got kicked out of her room by Kitoko and our doctor, Bijanji.”

  Bull looks over to Twizzle and asks, “How about you? You holding up okay? Anything I can get you?” There is a twinkle in his eye and mirth in his voice.

  She gives him an acid look, blurts out laughing at the absurdity of the question, and then punches him in the arm. After a few expletives, she exclaims, “You bastard! You are to never leave my side again, ever! I was a wreck while you were gone. I cried myself to sleep too many nights worrying about you. The thought of not being with you ever again was killing me.”

  “So maybe the next time I propose marriage to you, you might take me up on it? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She blinks, stares at him for a moment then leans in to his ear and whispers just loud enough that I can hear, “You and I are going to follow the yellow brick helicopter road all the way back to Napa Valley where we will have the most spectacular wedding ceremony overlooking the vineyards and we will make babies and raise our children in the safety of Napa Valley and never leave the states again.”

  “I’m clicking my red ruby slippers right now,” he says, closes his eyes and murmurs, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”

  I lean back in my chair and think to myself that at least on this end, all is well. But what of Sonnet?

  One of the pilots comes up to Twizzle and lets her know they are leaving with the security man who needs hospitalization. She tells him to take the rest of the rescued team to the hospital so everyone, except Bull, can get a thorough going over. He leaves us to round up the men and depart to Kinshasa.

  “So you don’t think I need hospitalization?” Bull asks.

  She responds with, “You do, but if you can delay it, I’d rather have you by my side until we depart this place. You okay with that?”

  Before he answers, I interrupt and ask Twizzle, “The avatars the security men witnessed. Only Rafa knew of them before this. Now we have security guys who’ve witnessed Sonnet conjuring up beasts.”

  Bull answers for her. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Forbes. Who would believe them? Even if they all sat down and related their story to a reporter, who would buy into that kind of nonsense? Fairytale snakes? Strange beasts that saved them from drowning? There is no evidence. It’s only their word. And I spoke long and hard with them on the need for silence about what they’ve witnessed. I can’t guarantee they won’t say something to someone, but I seriously doubt anyone would take it as something other than fiction.”

  “So you’re not worried?”

  “Not in the slightest. Look, we just went through a hellacious time. Half of what we endured seems hallucinatory right now. I’m not saying they will doubt themselves, but I think the experience falls into the realm of ‘best forgotten.’ I mean, the death in the villages was enough to give anyone bad dreams for the rest of their life.” His body language changes and I can feel his distress. “Ghastly bloody disfigured carcasses everywhere. Oof, I’d rather not discuss it.” He takes a deep breath, exhales some expletives and then covers his face with his hands. I can tell he’s fighting back tears. Twizzle wraps her arms around him, her lower lip quivers and she gives me a pleading look.

  I’ve asked too much for the moment. It’s time for me to check out of this small group and take a breather out in the compound courtyard where the helicopter is parked. Maybe I can help out there. I stand and give an exit wave to Twizzle who nods back.

  Outside, it is a mix of security people and the Bangala Elongó all milling around. I watch the last of the rescued team being loaded into the helicopter. A security man closes the door behind them, walks to the edge of the landing area and signals for the pilots to depart. The wind whips around us, blowing leaves, grass, and dirt about as the rotors accelerate and the ship tilts up off the ground.

  Zed comes up beside me. “You know I never get tired of watching that thing land or take off. Must be a guy thing. How you doing? How is the Bull? I noticed all the rescued guys were placed in the helicopter except him. Doesn’t make sense. He looked as bad as the rest of them.”

&
nbsp; “Twizzle doesn’t want him to leave her side.”

  “She could have gone with him to the hospital. Nothing we can’t handle here on our own.”

  “I know you think she meddles a bit too much, but she’s only thinking of you and Sonnet. Give her some leeway here. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to leave until she’s sure about Sonnet’s welfare.”

  “Yeah, Sonnet. I get mixed feelings from her. She seems fine and not fine. She feels like a maelstrom of angst when I touch her.”

  “Kitoko says she is many and the many are at war with each other, whatever that means.”

  “You worried about her as much as I am?”

  “Very worried. I get vibes that I’ve never felt before from her. She...” Then I have an idea. “Zed, what do you think about some tequila right now?”

  He makes a chuffing laugh. “You gotta be kidding! The strain of it all getting to you and you need to hit the proverbial bottle?”

  “No, the orchid bottle. You see where I’m heading?”

  He smiles as the idea settles on him. “Should we include Twizzle?”

  “And Bull. He said that Sonnet says he and the rescued men are now ‘selected.’ You felt them at all?”

  “Nope. How about you?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. Could be ‘selected’ for Kinshasa’s people and not the Bangala Elongó.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Sonnet’s Legacy Chapter 13

  Bull, dressed in camouflage long pants and a black tank top, is limping and using Twizzle for assisted support as they walk towards the table. Zed is already seated at the table with an array of empty shot glasses in front of him. The bottle of Orchid Tequila Reserve sits unopened next to the glasses. I’m at the refrigerator pulling out bottles of juice and soda for chasers if anyone needs them. I need one as a prequel to the shot. I set them on the table, open one, take a long draw, and then set it down.

  “So what’s the plan?” Twizzle inquires as she lowers into the chair next to Zed. “We achieve nirvana and then what? We all go Carlos Castaneda? What are we doing here?”

  I clear my throat and then announce, “It’s Sonnet. Zed and I are worried about her. We both want...”

  “...divine enlightenment,” Zed interrupts. “Neither Uncle Forbes nor I feel comfortable about her condition. The new ‘we’ that is Sonnet seems wrong. Maybe we can help her. Whatever Kitoko and Kinshasa have been doing, it just feels...well...I’m getting strange sensations from Sonnet, like she’s changing into something that’s not good. Uncle Forbes says he’s getting the same read on her.”

  “You read her?” Twizzle questions in surprise.

  “No, no. Not that kind of read. Not since she’s been back. I haven’t been into her head,” I clarify.

  “But that’s what you intend?”

  “No. Not if I don’t have to. I was hoping our combined enlightenment might reveal something that will make us all feel better about her.”

  “You want Rafa in on this?” Twizzle asks.

  “Most definitely. Sonnet says he is ‘selected’ now. I want his perspective. Between the four of us, we ought to be able to define what it is about her that’s making Zed and me feel uncomfortable.”

  Rafa speaks up. “Since I’m new to this club and have little understanding of what we’re doing here, don’t mind me. I’ll just ride along and let things fall as they may.”

  “You never told him about the tequila?” Zed queries.

  “Oh, he knows. He just hasn’t sampled it as one of the ‘selected.’ Should be a different experience altogether.”

  Rafa’s eyebrows raise. “Timothy Leary-esque?”

  “Better.”

  “So we’re all in?” I ask. I get head-nods all around. I uncork the bottle, fill each shot glass to the brim, set the bottle down, pick up my glass and wait for everyone to join. “Bottoms up,” I declare and down mine in one swallow. When I look over to Zed, I see he is savoring his, taking it slow. Twizzle has slammed hers down and Rafa is just now finishing. I stand and announce, “Let’s visit Sonnet. ‘Women only’ be damned.”

  I lead the way out of the building and head over to Sonnet’s building where a group of the Bangala Elongó is gathered in chairs in a circle, rocking back and forth, holding hands and chanting slow, methodical verses. Their eyes are closed and I get strong emanations from them. When I near the door, Twizzle steps in front of me, stops me, and says, “Let me clear the way for you.”

  She opens the door and the chanting from inside the building comes louder. After a minute, she waves us in and walks to the group gathered around Sonnet’s bed. Sitting on the wooden floor holding hands, they are locked into the same chants as the group outside. Their presence is warm and familiar. Their chants are hypnotic and soothing. The urge to join them is strong, but we have other things to do here.

  Perched on the edge of Sonnet’s bed are Kitoko and Kinshasa. Their hands are splayed onto the side of Sonnet who is supine and grimacing. Sweat darkens her clothes at the neck and pits. Beads of perspiration trail down her face. A dark purple aura that pulses red and blue encompasses her. Kitoko generates a royal blue aura about her; Kinshasa exudes a deep red aura. Where they overlap, the color becomes the same as Sonnet’s purple. The Bangala Elongó all exude auras of golden yellow. I look at Rafa and see that his aura is red like Kinshasa’s. Zed and Twizzle and I wear golden yellow auras like the Bangala Elongó. There is a thigh-thick beam of white light filled with static that emanates from Sonnet’s chest and pulses with her aura. It shoots up through the ceiling. A sizzling sound, electric and cicada-like, emanates from it. I notice the sound of the jungle outside seems greater in here. Animal calls and bug symphonies are foreground noise in this space. It’s as if the building walls do not exist and we’re in the center of a densely inhabited jungle. Vibrant air presses in on us, alive and active.

  Zed approaches Sonnet, steps around the Bangala Elongó and stops beside Kitoko who ignores his presence. He reaches over her and slowly advances his hand into the beam emanating from Sonnet’s chest. Once his hand is fully inside of it, he pulls the beam towards himself, bending it like rubber. No one stops him. He reaches into the beam with his other hand and parts it to reveal firefly-like lights shooting up inside the beam. Pulling the curtain of lights to himself, he thrusts his face into their path. It splashes over him, like water in reverse gravity, shooting up and into the ceiling. The firefly-like lights bounce off of him and scatter upward just as the beam does.

  He rolls his head around in the shower of lights for a few moments then pulls back. He releases the light beam and it rebounds back to the straight beam it was before he interrupted it. Moving over between Kinshasa and Kitoko and, using both hands, he wafts some of their auras onto himself. Reacting to the splash of their colors, like a coke user who just took a huge snort of cocaine, he throws his head back and stands rigid for a moment, then relaxes and turns to us.

  “Follow me. We need to talk,” he announces, and walks out of the building. Twizzle looks at me. I shrug and nod towards the door. We follow him outside where he’s stopped about twenty yards from the Bangala Elongó who still chant outside Sonnet’s door.

  “So did you all see what I did in there?” he asks.

  We all describe basically the same thing and he nods affirmation. “Yeah, that’s what happened. What I saw, or more like felt, was surprising. The life force of mom and dad came to me and touched me. They surrounded me and embraced me in joy. It was an incredible reunion. They are currently speaking to Sonnet. They are sharing with her. I don’t know how she can absorb it all. There is a tremendous amount of information being exchanged between her and them. Sonnet is our river Gi AND the Gi of the snake. And she is something else, too. She’s in touch with things I have no feeling for—things alien. I have no idea what she’s going to be when she’s finished.

  “Kitoko and Kinshasa are acting as buffers for those moments when it becomes overwhelming for her. They protect her from collapsin
g under all that information. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. There are many players engaged right now with Sonnet. I had the sense that others were there from places very distant to our earth. I even got a glimpse of the EDEP that is everywhere in the universe. To you I may have been standing there next to Sonnet, but in reality I was in many places at once. Here, there...who knows where? Sonnet is in the middle of a convergence long in the making. What evolves out of it remains to be seen. Don’t expect the woman who emerges from this event to be the same woman we all knew. There is no way she cannot be changed. I feel changed just from my brief instant in the mix of everything.”

  Twizzle’s first response is, “Are you hurt?”

  Zed smiles. “No. Not hurt. Maybe singed a bit by the quantity and speed of information being fed, but I’m fine. It’s Sonnet. I felt the extreme stress her body is under—her heartbeat, her blood flushing through her veins, the air passing in and out of her lungs. I was in her body for the briefest moment and it was intense. She is strong, I felt that, but she’s also human, even with the addition of the two Gis inside of her. She’s still human born, unlike them. It’s strange how they have intertwined themselves within her. It’s hard to fathom how they can fit so much in such a small container. They are huge and she’s so small. This event involves physics that are alien to us. I could tell they’re using time as a means of placement within her.” He stops and then acts as if something just occurred to him. “Unusual,” he says and pauses in contemplation, “It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but they are placing themselves incrementally by time. Their time is not linear like ours, but they are accommodating our linear time. She is a vehicle that is running along a linear path. As she progresses forward in time they will avail different parts of themselves to her. Their timeline is looping—it crosses back and forth over her linear timeline.”