Touched by an Alien

by Koch, Gini

  “Yates, yes. Mephistopheles, we don’t know.” Martini wasn’t looking at me now.

  “Let’s assume the talents have bled over. So he’s coming here to make sure the two of you never procreate, and the only way to do that is to kill you.”

  “So does he want to kill you so we don’t procreate with you?” Martini asked, still looking anywhere but at me. “And if so, why?”

  “Probably and evolution. Paul’s normal. You haven’t said that he’s the only normal hybrid. What if he’s stronger or if the potential is there? What if your entire generation marries humans, spreads out, mixes in as the rest of our races have? You’ll make humans stronger, not weaker, because the A-C internal organs are dominant.”

  “That would make us more appealing for Mephistopheles,” Christopher countered.

  “Maybe. Maybe it would mean we could fight him on a more even playing field. We don’t know what would happen if a parasite attached to, say, Paul. Maybe he’d become stronger, or better, or both. Evolution’s tricky, but this is what it’s about—Yates and Mephistopheles both want to stop your evolution.”

  “I think she’s right.” Reader’s voice came from behind me. “Sensors are showing that we have company coming.” His voice sounded odd. I turned to look at him. He was pale. “Jeff, Christopher . . . there’s a lot more than one heading for us.”

  CHAPTER 40

  AT LEAST THEY KNEW HOW TO SWING into action when it mattered. “Get everyone armed,” Martini snapped. “Aerosols may work on Mephistopheles, but we don’t know about the others, so everyone should also take guns. You, too,” he said as he moved past me toward the back of the SUV. Christopher and Reader both went to the other car.

  I followed Martini to the back and grabbed a couple of spray cans. I could just barely get them into my purse. With everything in it, it weighed a ton. “Make sure none of this gets inhaled by any of you.”

  “I think we can manage to figure that out.” Martini picked up what looked like a machine gun and handed it to me. “Here.”

  “I can’t carry that.”

  “Take it.”

  “I can’t even lift it, and I’m not going to try to lift it.”

  “Take it.” He shoved it at me.

  I shoved it right back. “Look, it happened, okay? We stopped it. Because of you. Get over it before we’re all dead.”

  “Sorry to get in the way.” He slammed the gun back into the car. “Hope you two will be very happy together.”

  “Why are you just assuming that I’m in love with Christopher?” Before he could answer the ground shook. “What was that?”

  We both turned and saw what was coming toward us.

  Mephistopheles was flying, horrible bat wings flapping lazily. Beneath him were five other monsters, all bigger than he was. It was clear he was herding them. The only aspects these things had in common were they were all awful to look at and their eyes were that horrible glowing red so popular with the superbeing set.

  One had huge ears that draped down the side of its head and touched the ground. It was green and scaly and looked like a really bad cross between a dinosaur and a caveman. It had clawed hands and carried what looked like small trees in each one.

  “Is that Earwig?” I pointed at this thing.

  “Yes.” Martini’s voice was an angry growl.

  “Then he killed Lissa under Mephistopheles’ orders.” Which made sense and confirmed my theory. How I hoped we’d live long enough for me to explain it to someone back at the Science Center.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I have my sources.” The next monster to capture my attention looked like that blind men with the elephant parable—as if someone who couldn’t see and had never seen an animal had tried to create one. It lumbered on huge feet, six of them, and it was the reason the ground was shaking. Its body was pinkish purple and grotesquely rotund while its head was like an elephant’s but with no trunk or tusks. Instead, it had fangs, and yet, somehow, a humanish face. “What’s that one called?”

  “The Pachyderm.”

  “Fitting. Sort of.” I was trying not to be scared and failing utterly, no matter how many times I tried singing “Pink Elephants on Parade” to myself.

  “You want to go be near Christopher?”

  I spun around and looked up at him. “Stop it. You want to be mad at me? That’s fine. Please give it a rest right now. I had a great plan. It’s worked well. Mephistopheles is here, thanks for getting really angry. But I didn’t know these others were going to show up, and I’ve got no guess as to what to do. Plus, before you go all righteous wrath on me, let’s just discuss all those ‘marry me’s’ you’ve been passing the last two days when you’re actually forbidden to marry me. You’re not exactly Mr. Clean here.”

  I spun back around to examine another superbeing and tried to stop caring about whether or not Martini was going to be nice to me, let alone kiss me, ever again. The giant black snake that moved out from behind the Pachyderm was certainly a good distraction. I was afraid of snakes, but this one was so big fear didn’t begin to cover my reaction. And seeing a caricature of a human face shoved into the snake head was promising to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. If I got to have a rest.

  “And that snake thing is?”

  “The Serpent.” He didn’t say “duh,” but I could feel him thinking it.

  Our next contestant was almost normal, at least by comparison. It looked like a giant stick bug, with extra sticks. “What does that thing do?”

  “It shoots poison from the end of every limb. We call it the Killer. Because no one’s ever survived getting hit by it.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  “I wish.”

  Last but not least was something that truly looked like a giant slug. “That called the Slug?”

  “Yep.”

  A thought occurred. I was amazed I was able to form any. “You ever tried salting that thing?”

  “What?”

  I dug into my purse and managed to find the walkie-talkie. I hoped I was using it right. “Mr. White, please.”

  “Yes, Miss Katt?”

  “I’d like a ton of salt, and I do mean a ton, to be airlifted to wherever the hell it is we actually are. Pronto would be the best. Please tell the human pilots that they’ll be getting rid of a giant slug, only. I don’t think they can help with the others.” You only had to tell me twice that the existing in-control superbeings could withstand artillery.

  Silence.

  “Are you nuts?” Martini asked.

  “Probably.”

  The walkie crackled. “Does the salt have to be dry or can it be, say, ocean water?”

  I thought about it. “Ask my father. Tell him we need to get rid of a huge slug infestation.”

  More silence.

  “You know, I meant it,” Martini said.

  “What? That I’m nuts?”

  “That I wanted to marry you.” Past tense. Why did that make my chest constrict? I’d known him about two days.

  “Great. I want to have someone shower me with millions of dollars without any downside attached. I don’t go around mentioning that to everyone I come across.”

  The walkie crackled again. “Mr. Katt says, in the case of this slug, ocean water will probably be fine, however, we’re adding in dry salt as well.”

  “Great. How fast can that happen? Because these things seem to move slowly, but they can’t move that slowly.”

  “They’re on their way, should be there within fifteen minutes. We’re calling in jets based out of San Diego and aircraft from Luke in support of those from Home Base.”

  Fifteen minutes might be too long. “Tell them that it’s Top Gun time, okay?”

  “Will do. Anything else?”

  “I’m sure there will be. Please stay tuned.” I dropped the walkie back into my purse. “Any giant mongoose around? ‘Cause I’d love to see a humongous Riki-Tiki-Tavi right about now.”

  “We’re fresh out.”


  “Do the cars protect from the Killer’s poison?”

  “They have shields, so they might.”

  I turned and trotted over to the others. “Jeff’s really pissed,” I mentioned to Christopher as I got to them.

  “No, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “James, you up for something scary?”

  “Uh, girlfriend? This hasn’t stopped being scary yet. Are you suggesting we’re moving up to total terror?”

  “Yes. Can you take one of the super-SUVs and use it to ram that stick bug thing? With shields on full.”

  He stared at me. “You want me to try to take out a superbeing with a car.”

  “It’s a big SUV. Very sturdy.”

  “Not sturdy enough.”

  “You sure or just chicken?”

  “Both.”

  I grabbed his walkie. “Mr. White?”

  “Yes, Miss Katt. It’s been so long.”

  “Truly. We need a really big, nasty Humvee, preferably military issue, and it needs all the A-C bells and whistles on it. Do we have such a beast?”

  He sighed. “We do. It’s on its way. May Tim drive it to you?”

  “Only if he’s keen on dying.”

  Silence.

  “You’re really good under pressure,” Lorraine said.

  “I’m really good at panicking with style.”

  White’s voice came back through the walkie. “Tim shares that he’s ecstatic about the opportunity to make it back to the majors. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I suspect you do.”

  “Baseball’s the national sport. Perhaps you should watch it sometime.”

  “I prefer football.”

  “Good to know. Tell Tim to put the pedal to the metal and get his butt out here.”

  “I await your next orders with great joy.”

  I looked over at Christopher. “I see where your snarkiness comes from.”

  “I’m flattered by the comparison.”

  I turned around to see how far away the really big fuglies were. “Not that I’m complaining, but why do they move so slowly?”

  “No idea,” Christopher replied. “No one’s ever complained about it. We have a hard enough time surviving them at this rate of speed.”

  “Girls? Any thoughts?”

  “The atmosphere’s too dense for them.”

  “Good one, Claudia. Lorraine?”

  “They’re in control, but they don’t manifest often, so they aren’t used to making these bodies function.”

  “I think we have two potential winners.” I looked back at Christopher. “Perhaps a few more female agents would be a good idea for the future.”

  “I’ll be happy to discuss integration if we survive. Though Jeff controls all active Field, including decisions like that one.”

  “Guess I’ll just charm him into it.”

  “I’ll watch from the next county.”

  “I see your dormant sense of humor comes out when facing death. Good to know.” I already had a good guess as to what was going to stop Mephistopheles. But the Serpent, the Pachyderm, and Earwig were presenting problems. Martini was still by the other car, and Earwig appeared to be in the lead for the monsters. I didn’t have to ask who his target was. After all, he’d missed killing Martini when he took out Lissa; I was sure he wanted to rectify that situation.

  “I’ll be back. I hope.” I trotted back to Martini. He didn’t take his eyes off Earwig. “Jeff, you need to get back with the rest of us.”

  “No, I’m planning to stay right here.”

  “She was going to choose Christopher.”

  “I know.” He looked at me now. “She didn’t have to tell me. Empath, remember?”

  “Then why did you take her out to ask her?”

  He shrugged. “Just in case she changed her mind.” He looked back at the lumbering monsters. “I thought it would be worth the risk.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe not. I couldn’t save her. Earwig ripped her in half in front of me. Like she was a paper doll. I was glad Christopher never saw that.”

  What a great way to ensure someone wouldn’t mate—rip apart the person they love in front of them. Mephistopheles had definitely gotten ideas from Yates and vice versa.

  Earwig was a lot closer to us. “Jeff, we have to fall back.”

  “Why? Bullets don’t work on that thing. They don’t really work on any of these. The guns make you feel safer, but it’s an illusion.”

  He really had his fatalism on. “Then why are we trying?”

  “Nothing better to do.”

  “I can think of a few things.”

  “Can you? Any of them involve an elevator?”

  I probably shouldn’t have, but I kicked the back of his leg, between the calf and the knee. This was the nice way—I’d been trained to just take out the knee completely. Martini fell to his knees, and I hit him in the head with my purse. He went down and out. Oh, well, he hated me anyway.

  Reader and Christopher raced over. “What the hell did you do to him?” Christopher shouted. Ah, that old thick blood thing.

  “Get Mr. Custer’s Last Stand into the car and keep him from just standing around being a target.”

  “What will you be doing?” Reader asked me as he and Christopher lifted Martini up.

  I looked around and caught my reflection in one of the aerosol cans. I walked to the side of the car and looked at my chest in the side-view mirror. “Improvising.”

  CHAPTER 41

  I WENT TO THE DRIVER’S SEAT and dug through my purse. iPod was still there, and, happy day, so was my car radio adapter. I plugged it in, turned the volume up to eleven, and hit play. Aerosmith’s “Back in the Saddle” blared out, and I went around and opened all the car’s doors, so the sound could travel. Then I turned around and watched.

  They call him Screamin’ Steven Tyler for a reason. And my hard rock music mix had a lot of Steven screaming, as well as many others. My parents had complained about my musical tastes for most of my life—I liked something in every genre, and I liked to play it all loud.

  Reader was back with me. “We have a sound track?” he shouted. It was as if we were first row at a concert, only without my wanting to climb on stage and have my way with the singer and lead guitarist.

  I pointed toward Earwig. “One that works.”

  The monster was writhing, and not to the beat. The ears weren’t just lobes—the entire length of his body was ear canal. And he was being assaulted by the best rockers in the business.

  The Humvee barreled up next to us, and Tim popped his head out. “Nice to be here,” he yelled. “What’s the plan, besides us all going deaf?”

  I looked at Reader. “Who’s the better driver?”

  “None better than me, girlfriend. I know, I get to go ram that thing. You want Tim with me?”

  “Is he better off with you or running the stereo?” The song changed to “Last Child.” I noticed the beat was affecting both Earwig and the Serpent.

  “If you don’t want this car trampled, someone needs to drive it.”

  Reader had a point. The Pachyderm seemed unaffected, and it was heading for us. “Do the switch.”

  Reader pulled Tim out of the Humvee, rolled up the window, and then the car-tank shimmered. I took this to mean shields were engaged. Reader peeled out, heading for the Killer.

  I flung Tim into the driver’s seat. “Keep the music going, keep it loud, and keep from being trampled. Oh, and you have a ton of equipment in the back, try not to let it fall out.”

  Mephistopheles was hanging back. This didn’t surprise me so much as piss me off. Typical evil overlord, sending his minions to do his dirty work. No worries, I’d just work my way through to him. Somehow.

  Something very fast ran past me. Make that two some-things. I looked behind me, but Martini was still out and Christopher was with him. That meant the girls had gotten involved. I didn’t have time to contemplate this because Tim drove off, seeing a
s Earwig was pretty much right on us.

  On me, since I was now alone.

  The good news was it had dropped the trees to hold its ears. The bad news was it was lurching and contorting right toward me. So I had to figure out where the parasite was on this thing and destroy it, without it killing me first. Good practice for the main event.

  The sound track was getting louder. I wasn’t sure how, but I decided not to argue. It was helping me and hurting at least one—and probably two—of the enemy, and that was good enough for right now.

  It was possibly the grossest thing I’d ever done, but as I dodged Earwig’s feet I managed to grab an earlobe and start climbing up. He was as disgusting as he looked, but not slimy, so not slippery. The scales actually helped me to climb, but I really wished I had no sense of smell, because it was like hanging onto a garbage scow.

  Earwig felt me through his pain, and he grabbed me. This was not my preferred plan. The thought that Christopher for sure and Martini very possibly were going to get to see me ripped apart wasn’t at all comforting.

  The music switched. We left Aerosmith and went right to Motorhead. I knew my mix, and this wasn’t where the songs changed. Which meant Tim had used initiative and turned on the loudest rock and roll band in the world. Maybe he was going to end up a good pinch hitter after all.

  As “Ace of Spades” and Lemmy’s shrieking Cockney ripped through the airwaves, Earwig screamed and dropped me. I managed to grab ear again, or at least ear hairs. That a superbeing could have ear hair was ignorance I hadn’t even known I cherished until this moment. But my track coach hadn’t tortured us with rope drills for nothing—I could climb this.

  I moved upward, so to speak, if you could count contortions that flung me around like a tetherball. As always, I was glad I’d hooked my purse over my neck, not that I could hope to get anything out of it right now.

  During one exciting rope swing I ended up inside the ear canal. Repulsive in terms of location and odor, but enlightening in terms of what we were here to do. Because I caught a glimpse of a pulsing, shimmering blob. The parasite was in the ear.