The Alien Chronicles

by Hugh Howey

  Live feed from game destination planet opens. Bipeds appear.

  “Isn’t that amazing? They’re a funny-looking group of aliens, am I right? Hard to imagine we could get Glendorp here to fit in with this hairy two-legged crowd, but we will! We spare no expense on The Zeldar Show to bring you the best in intergalactic adventures. Now, let’s send our contestant out of the studio so he can get ready.”

  Glendorp exits.

  “Okay, folks, here comes the best part. What our friend Glendorp doesn’t know is that he won’t be the only Zeldarian down on what they call ‘Earth.’ We’re sending our special guest star Kalacha Swanssa to join him… and she’s going to be his target ‘Earthling.’ Here’s Kalacha now.”

  Kalacha appears, and she is smoking. Literally.

  “So, Kalacha darling, what do you plan to do while you’re down there?”

  “Trazil, I’m going to do whatever the audience tells me to do. And that may include creating some problems for today’s contestant.”

  [Laughter]

  “Sounds like fun, Kalacha! All right, let’s send you back out of the studio so he doesn’t see you… There you go darling… Isn’t she something, folks? She’ll come back to us in Earthling form in just a minute, but first let’s say hello and goodbye to Glendorp as he takes off for the alien planet where he’ll spend this episode. Come right down here beside me, Glendorp. There you go.”

  [Laughter]

  “Okay, let’s see you up close. Wow. What a transformation! So that’s what their heads look like. With all that stuff on top—what is it? Some kind of vegetable matter? And only two eyes. A wonder they can see anything, am I right? So Glendorp, can you move comfortably in this get-up?”

  “Sxmcntoatuhharipeipamia.”

  “Oh, sorry, folks—we’ve already equipped him with the translator. He’s speaking the language of Earth. We won’t be able to understand him until we have the language filter on. But he looks great, in a bizarre sort of way. And you can see he’s got the transporter on his arm—is that an arm? I don’t know! Funny color he is, too. Well, that’s the way they look on this planet. What can you do?”

  [Laughter]

  “Off you go, Glendorp.”

  Glendorp disappears. Kalacha walks back on.

  “Whoa, Kalacha! Even as an Earthling you look great. Or as great as an Earthling can look, am I right? So, I know you can’t talk to us now, but you’re clear on this mission: Glendorp is getting the chance to experience a typical Earthling rite of passage—going to a high school prom. And you’re going to make sure you’re the girl he asks. Then the fun begins! Are you all set?”

  “Xmowerhhoipnbm.”

  “Whatever she said must be right, folks! So here you go, Kalacha. Have a great time, and may The Zeldar Show begin!”

  * * *

  Glendorp Freundzap found himself standing in a narrow room. It was dominated by metal boxes attached to the walls, and was otherwise empty apart from a bare wooden bench in front of him. He was compressed into an Earthling body and wearing a strap that ran around his middle and between his two lower appendages.

  According to the brief orientation course he had been given, this was a place of education for young people here, and the item he was wearing was designed to cover the male Earthling’s primary reproductive organ. The organ seemed extraordinarily vulnerable, hanging out the way it did.

  He appeared to be alone in the room, but loud voices could be heard close by. To his relief, the automatic translator was working. Their words made sense, and he hoped that he, in turn, would be able to communicate with the denizens of this planet.

  Six of them came around the corner, in much the same state of undress as him. One of them had on no clothing at all.

  “Hey, it’s the new guy,” the unclothed one said.

  “What’s your name?” said another. “I’m Jake Bradshaw, and numbnuts here is Rich.”

  The Earthling reached out a hand in what Glendorp knew to be a gesture of greeting and welcome. He did his best to respond appropriately, stretching out his unfamiliar limb and working the digits.

  “Glen… dorp.” His name sounded funny in this language.

  “Glen Dorp?” One of the guys slapped another one on the back. “Did you hear that, Krakowitsky? His name is even goofier than yours.”

  “Yeah, Krak, you’re going to love this guy. Finally, someone else to slam in the name department.” The fellow put his arm around Glendorp’s shoulders. “Where you from, Dorp?”

  The others laughed, and four of them turned to open the metal boxes behind them.

  “I am from… Zeldar.”

  “Where the hell is Zeldar? Is that in Indiana? I think I knew a girl from there once.”

  “No, you idiot. It’s in Illinois. You don’t know any girls from Indiana. Girls run when they see you coming.”

  These creatures spoke very quickly. And moved quickly too. One of them took off the cloth wrapped around his loins and flung it toward another Earthling. There was some snapping of the strap that Glendorp was wearing around his middle, which hurt. He found himself shoved against one of the metal boxes on the wall, and he slid down to the chilly floor.

  It was all very puzzling.

  “Lay off him, you guys.” Jake reached out a hand and helped raise Glendorp from the ground. “Stick with me, Dorp, and I’ll protect you from these douchebags. We’re about to go to lunch. Want to join us?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Glendorp started to follow the two Earthlings who were ambulating toward the exit, but Jake stopped him.

  “Hey, bro, don’t forget your pants. I don’t know how it is in Zeldar, but here in Iowa we wear pants to lunch.”

  * * *

  Glendorp sat at the table with the group of males. He was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation while also ingesting nutrients. When he got back to Zeldar, he was going to mention to the game show people that a longer orientation period would be advisable. It was quite confusing to be in a new body, wearing unfamiliar vestments, dealing with an alien language, and also trying to accomplish the task of finding a “prom date.”

  Well, that’s probably why they called it a game. No doubt it was more entertaining for the observers at home if the contestant was insufficiently prepared. Glendorp had never seen the show himself; it was his mother who had persuaded him to become a contestant. She watched The Zeldar Show every day, and had insisted he apply. Glendorp now realized that he may have made a mistake in avoiding the broadcast.

  As he scooped up a desiccated potato slice and placed it in his mouth to masticate, he heard a strange sound coming from “Rich,” the Earthling on his right. The noise was apparently made by forming the mouth into a tight round shape and pushing air through it with force.

  “Don’t whistle, you jerk. Chicks don’t like that. They want somebody with class.” Jake said. “Like me.”

  Jake stood up and spoke to the approaching female. “You’re new, right? You must be, because I couldn’t have missed a girl who looks as hot as you.”

  Glendorp noticed that Jake displayed his teeth after speaking to the female. This, he knew, was a traditional Earthling means of indicating warmth, humor, or affection. Glendorp practiced displaying his teeth. The female looked at him.

  Rich shoved his sharp arm bone into Glendorp’s ribcage. “Introduce yourself,” he mumbled, keeping his own teeth displayed. Glendorp wasn’t sure how to do that, so he experimented with making the same sound that Rich had. He was pleased to successfully reproduce it on the first try.

  The girl looked at him directly. He noted that she had some kind of shiny, colored substance on her talons. Perhaps this was a secondary sex characteristic of this species. None of the males at the table had colored talons. Glendorp wondered what evolutionary advantage it might provide.

  Rich shook his head at Glendorp, then stood and extended his hand to the female. “I’m Rich, and this is Dorp. He’s brand new too.” The female merely stared back, saying nothing. “So… um�
�� want to sit at our table? What’s your name?”

  The female placed her tray on the table and sat down between Glendorp and Rich. “I’m Kalacha. I am transfer student.”

  Glendorp noticed a peculiar difference in the behavior of the male Earthlings now that the female had come close. They seemed less inclined to talk to each other, their focus now entirely on this member of the female gender. He decided to take advantage of the gap in conversation to advance his task in the game.

  “Kalacha. I am seeking a female to accompany me to the prom. Would you do so? I am prepared to supply you with sufficient nutrients beforehand and will be able to secure a vehicle for transportation to the event.”

  Kalacha turned to him. “Yes. I will go with you.” She lifted her tray and displayed her teeth, then walked away from the table.

  Rich opened his mouth. “You dog. And I thought you were slow.”

  Jake laughed. “Gotta hand it to you, Dorp, I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Darn it! I was going to ask her to the prom,” Rich said. “But I was going to use a little bit more finesse than that. Like, get to know her for an hour or so before springing it on her.”

  Jake punched Glendorp on the shoulder. “Well done, man. I would have asked her myself if I wasn’t dating Samantha. Who would kill me, of course, if I didn’t take her to the prom.”

  Rich was still shaking his head. “Dorp, you are unbelievable. Just cool as a cucumber, snatching the hot new girl out from under my nose on your first day.”

  Glendorp felt relieved. The first step had been taken. He had a date to the prom.

  Jake leaned across Rich and spoke to Glendorp. “Listen, man, if you manage to bone her after the dance, I wanna hear all about it.”

  Glendorp did not respond, because he did not know what Jake meant. He would have to peruse the Brief Guide to Earthlings that had been given to him on Zeldar. Once he learned the meaning of the word “bone,” perhaps he could attempt to achieve it.

  * * *

  “Ladies, gentlemen, and qualtrids, welcome back to our studio! You can see that Glendorp is having a fine time down on Earth, and has managed to ask a girl to the prom. Of course, we know it’s the gorgeous Kalacha, a regular guest star on The Zeldar Show, but Glendorp doesn’t know that! His mother persuaded him to audition for us, and he’s never watched our show, can you believe it? Mom thinks it’s time for him to mate, and you can’t blame a mother for wanting little grandchildren… not to mention the awards and prize money! But I don’t know if our friend Glendorp is quite ready for the finality of mating.”

  [Laughter]

  “But before you mate, be sure to stock up on Femmelmeng’s Interplanetary Chews! They fill you up and make you glow. Can’t beat that. One of our favorite sponsors. Available in grass, pumpernickel, and diesel flavors. Get some today! On sale at your local galactic convenience shop.

  [Applause]

  Host pauses, cups hand around ear.

  “Oh, pardon me folks, I’ve just heard from the engineers handling the feed from the far-flung planet we’ve chosen for this week’s show. They’re telling me that Glendorp has gotten himself into a bit of a dilemma down there. Let’s zoom back in to see what’s going on.”

  * * *

  Glendorp was still getting used to the way this peculiar body walked. He was trying to move along at a typical Earthling gait when he heard people running up behind him.

  It was three males he hadn’t yet met. Or maybe he had. It was very difficult to tell them apart. One of these was quite a large specimen.

  “Hey, Dorp,” he said, stopping very close to Glendorp. “Where do you come off asking that new girl out? I saw her first.”

  Glendorp recognized the aggressive posturing as a threatening stance. He was, however, mystified as to where this attitude had originated.

  “Pardon me?” he said. He was proud that he had learned this short phrase while looking at his language translation documentation during the afternoon class on calculus. It was apparently high on the politeness scale.

  “Pardon me,” the other boy said, in an apparent attempt to mock him. “Yeah, I’ll pardon you, all right.”

  Glendorp put his hand out in the familiar welcoming gesture. “I am Glendorp.”

  “I’m Dwayne, you dorp.” The large Earthling came at him and slapped his hand away. He raised both fists and began to pummel Glendorp rapidly. It hurt. This body was too soft.

  Glendorp pondered his options. He didn’t want to do what a Zeldarian would do in this situation. At least not yet. He wanted to follow the rules and win the game fair and square, by going to the prom with a girl he had asked. His mother would be so pleased if he won the prize. She would be able to move into a bigger place with all his younger siblings.

  But being struck by Earthling limbs was very uncomfortable for the tender body he was temporarily housed in. Glendorp was still thinking hard about what to do when his new friends Jake and Rich came around the corner. They barreled right into the fight. Jake surprised Dwayne with a powerful punch to the jaw, while Rich grabbed Dwayne’s arms from behind. The rest of the group backed off quickly. Soon Dwayne and his fellow Earthlings left, and Jake and Rich displayed their teeth to Glendorp.

  Jake put an arm around Glendorp’s shoulders. “We got your back, buddy,” he said, which Glen understood to mean that they would help him. This was good to know, if he wanted to get Kalacha to the prom.

  * * *

  “Whoa, ladies, qualtrids, and gentlemen, did you see that? Our boy Glendorp was getting a plaff-kicking down on that planet, and he was rescued by some good Earthling buddies. Don’t you think he’s doing well?”

  [Applause]

  “So now we come to the audience interaction segment of the show—your favorite part, I know! You all remember how this works. Reach under your plaff holders and you’ll find a razmagoo with three buttons. You can select number one, number grazlo, or number berg. Each time we take a vote, your decision will determine what happens next. Now, let’s bring up our first set of options.”

  Host gestures to the screen behind him.

  “Button number one: Glendorp’s earthly transportation device breaks down on the way to the prom, and he never gets there. Mission definitely not accomplished.”

  [Laughter]

  “Button number grazlo: he gets there, but he finds Kalacha at the prom with another guy! Oh, no! What will he do then?”

  [Laughter]

  “Finally, button number berg—and this one is a doozy. Glendorp and Kalacha make it to the prom, but then a small interstellar vehicle obliterates the entire planet. Wow!”

  [Applause]

  “All right… now’s the time to vote. Take out your razmagoo and push one of the buttons. I can’t wait to see what you’ll decide for the fate of our boy down on Earth.”

  [Musical interlude]

  Trazil points to the screen as the graph is unveiled.

  “And… we have our answer! The vote goes to number grazlo. Glendorp reaches the prom and sees Kalacha there with another male. Uh oh! Watch out, Earthlings!”

  * * *

  Glendorp entered the school gym, dressed in stiff clothing. He was covered with many layers; it was apparently the traditional garb for such an occasion. He adjusted the piece of fabric that went around his imitation Earthling neck. It made it difficult to get oxygen into this odd body.

  Across the room he spotted Kalacha. Somehow she had avoided wearing so many clothes. This was a peculiar differentiation between genders: the more formal the situation, the more the males wore, but the less the females wore. Glendorp could only speculate about how Earth’s qualtrids must dress.

  He wasn’t certain if he should mention how he had attempted to pick up Kalacha at her place of residence, only to find that she had already left for the prom with someone else. Should he raise this point? He had no information to tell him what an appropriate Earthling reaction would be.

  As Glendorp approached Kalacha, he noticed the crowd of Ea
rthlings around her whispering. He was getting better at comprehending the language quickly, and could hear a few snatches of conversation.

  “Is that the new guy?”

  “I heard she said yes to two different boys! No class. People say she’s from Indiana.”

  “Poor guy. Do you think there’s gonna be a fight?”

  “Yes! Fight. Fight. Fight!”

  As the rhythmic chant was picked up by the small crowd, more and more individuals came over, attracted by the noise and the spectacle.

  A circle formed around Glendorp, Kalacha, and her date. Glendorp realized that Kalacha’s date was the same large Earthling who had assaulted him earlier. Dwayne, he had called himself.

  “Hello, Dwayne,” Glendorp said. “I thought that I was going to pick up Kalacha—”

  A fist came flying at him, and a sharp pain exploded in his jaw. As he fell backward and onto the wooden gym floor amid gasps and screams from the girls, he mused to himself that the creatures on this planet were very quick to punch.

  To his surprise, Kalacha immediately jumped on her date’s back and began clawing at his face. She was incredibly strong for an Earthling, and soon she had used her colorful talons to pull off strings of flesh. Dwayne was howling, and then keening, and then blood was dripping from his head. He fell to the ground, his hands red from the carnage, and clutched what was left of his face.

  The crowd that had surrounded the group with an air of eager anticipation reacted with horror. They backed away, both males and females screaming now, stampeding toward the exits.

  Kalacha reached into Dwayne’s chest and pulled out his heart, then tossed it, still thumping, onto the gym floor.

  Glendorp was impressed. Here was an Earthling he could admire.

  “Kalacha,” he said, picking up the hot wet heart and giving it a lick, “I find you very appealing. I would like to bone you.”