Starstruck

by S E Anderson

  “Your words will still come out as English,” he said, removing his hand, “since you haven’t had it in long. But it’ll do the trick.”

  “And what do these Killians want?” I asked, taking out the wig and tugging it into place.

  “Oh, you know, incinerate the planet's atmosphere,” he replied, completely casual.

  “But you attacked the man who wanted to kill their prime minister?”

  “It's a little confusing, I know. And it's been a helluva night,” Zander said, “but we can't let them burn down the planet.”

  “No, we most certainly cannot.”

  A second later, I looked like an entirely different person. I teetered awkwardly on the heels, but a look in the mirror was enough to tell me exactly whom I was supposed to look like.

  I was the girl from the park. The one who appeared beside the other Zander and the other me and then disappeared without a trace. So, that had been Blayde. But if she had been on Earth with the other Zander, could it be she didn't know he was missing?

  No. That would not explain the other Sally. The healthier, prettier Sally.

  I realized then that I should have brought the encounter up with Zander, but what was I to do? We had other problems to deal with. And then a wall exploded. which made things a little trickier.

  The cement burst in every direction, with dust spewing to fill up the entire bathroom. I winced, turning from the blast. Zander stood tall, as unperturbed as if he were watching an ant crawl on the pavement.

  Two men—if you could call them men—appeared through the dust and the rubble wearing bulky, navy blue uniforms and clutching thick, gun-like weapons. If I didn't know what was at stake, I would have been tempted to take off then and there.

  The men were aliens.

  Fully alien in every sense of the word. They were large-headed, green skinned, bulbous-eyed aliens. Their three-fingered hands drummed on their weapons. It was obvious they did not want to stand around waiting.

  Honestly, it was weird. They looked exactly how I expected aliens to look. It was only then I realized my phone was at the bottom of my purse, and there was no chance I’d ever get a picture of this. Zander let out a loud, high-pitched ululation. The soldiers replied in kind, snapping and shouting in such a way that it was almost impossible to hear my own thoughts. And yet, there was a layer above the ululating. I heard the sound, and yet, at the same time, I knew what they were trying to say, as if there were a poorly dubbed version of the noise in my head. My translator, I took it, was working now.

  “I’ve made them aware of the fact that your translator’s broken,” Zander whispered. “Their own devices will allow them to understand English, so I’ll speak in English to keep everyone on the same page.”

  But my translator’s working, I wanted to tell him, but he must have known. He probably had a larger plan, so I just nodded.

  One of the men made a sound that could have been interpreted as agreement. Then they bowed to us, which was just weird. Zander replied in kind and I followed suit, taking his lead and adopting an expression of both calm acceptance and power. Not an easy feat. It took all my energy just to hide the shock.

  Aliens.

  In the restroom of an Italian restaurant.

  Maybe something had hit my head when the window shattered. Maybe I was out cold, and this was a messed-up dream, making me believe I was doing something important.

  Nothing else made any sense.

  Well, if this was a dream, I was going to play the part to the end. The aliens indicated for us to step forward, and I swung the fake hair over my shoulder with a flick of my wrist, keeping my neck poised and stiff. I took a hesitant step on those impossible shoes and found that if I kept my legs tense, I could move without flopping over. I marched over the rubble without a second thought, following the aliens outside.

  The aliens. I would never get over that. At least with Zander, you could forget he wasn't human. Same with Miko and Taylor, minus the one reptilian hand. But seeing actual alien aliens—this was unreal.

  Once outside, the soldiers led us to the service parking lot where the rain just sort of stopped. It made no sense because I could see it falling in the distance, hear its roar surrounding us.

  The aliens stopped in the middle of the near-empty parking lot and looked up. I did the same. Seconds later, we were basked in a warm white glow, and I felt gravity release its grip on me. I floated upward, toward the source of the light.

  “Zander?” I hissed, reaching out for his hand. My fingers slid along the sleeve of his suit. The material was cheap and thin, and could not have been comfortable.

  “Don't panic,” he whispered, giving my fingers a tight, discrete squeeze. “They have a tractor beam. It shouldn't mess with your internal organs very much. I just hope you haven't eaten recently.”

  “We're at a restaurant,” I hissed.

  “Then hold it in until this is over. Clench your teeth. It helps.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Also, breathe,” Zander added as the light became blinding, “Just because the situation looks dire doesn't mean you shouldn't remember to breathe.”

  “This is dire?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Fantastic.”

  The light was brighter than anything I could have imagined, making my eyes sting. I didn't notice we’d entered the ship until it finally shut off and I dropped to the floor, landing face first on the cold metal.

  Stars flashed before my eyes as they readjusted to the dimmer lighting. Everything rang like the world had replaced birds with church bells. Soon my body adjusted, and the sound reduced to an electric hum.

  Truth was, I wanted to let my jaw do its thing and just drop. I was on a spaceship, an actual spaceship, and it was oddly disappointing—again. I was in what looked like a dull gray garage, complete with wires hanging from the ceiling and what could have been a car in one corner, half covered by dark shadows.

  Though it probably wasn't a car.

  I had expected the grandeur of the Enterprise, or the Heart of Gold, not an imperial trash chute. The place looked dismal for a prime minister’s ship.

  But it hit me that this was still a life and death situation. This ship had tractor beams and who knew what else. If they wanted to take Earth, I wasn't going to stand for it. If it meant pretending to be a woman I had never met, pretending I wasn't screaming internally, I could do that.

  They all want to kill me, I told myself, recalling Zander's words, but I have a secret weapon that will destroy them and everything they’ve ever loved.

  Oddly enough, the thought helped. I glowered at the aliens, and they took a step back, remaining silent as I rose to my feet and somehow managed to balance on the stilettos.

  A man—an alien man, or at least it appeared to be male, but what would I know—entered through one of the doors, saying a few words in that impossible language of theirs. Words that were somehow making sense to me with that translator sitting on my skull. I was impressed by his stature. While he appeared shorter than I was, he had an imposing stance, doubling his impact by the way he stood, like he was surveying us from the top of a hill. I tried to mimic his effect, moving my arms behind my back and sucking in my gut. I felt a foot taller. Was my posture really that bad?

  “All right, asshats,” he said, “let's get this show on the road.”

  “I shall be conversing in a common tongue,” Zander said. “My associate has a broken translation device. As such, I shall translate for her.”

  He turned to me, and I met his gaze. I was taking a bit of creative freedom with Blayde’s character, and, for the moment, it was working. Even Zander gave me a curt nod of approval.

  “The general offers his greetings to you, Blayde. He has heard much about you and wishes to extend an invitation for you to follow him to the bridge.”

  “I accept,” I said coolly, my words coming out in plain English. Drats, it really wasn’t working. Even so, I didn't wait for Zander this time
. I followed the man with my chin held high. The alien didn’t seem surprised by my reaction—I must have been doing something right—and escorted me down the hallway.

  Again, I was disappointed. I thought I would be impressed by the fact I was walking down the length of a spaceship, but it looked like a service tunnel I could have seen anywhere. Were we even moving? I had no way of knowing since there weren’t any freaking windows.

  I wanted to look back at Zander and find some comfort in his eyes, but knew very well I couldn't. It would have been out of character, that much was clear, so I kept my eyes fixed ahead and told myself I didn't need him.

  Doors opened, and I entered a large room full of more of the aliens, the Killians. They froze as they watched us enter. It was obvious Zander was well known to them, and Blayde's reputation preceded me. They did not look happy. I could have been wrong. Maybe frowning was a sign of good-natured cheer on their home world. In which case, this was the happiest place on earth.

  We were on the bridge, the command deck. A taller, older Killian, with skin grayer than the vivid green of the rest, and his uniform beautifully adorned with silver medals, sat in the center. He looked either angry or impressed by Zander's entrance; I couldn't tell. He leaned forward from his higher position, looking down at us with his large, black eyes.

  The general who had led us there spoke a few words, relaying the news about my translator. Zander didn’t speak up for me, which meant I had a lot of guesswork to do. The man on the pedestal said something in the loud screeching language, which did not register, and his general left quickly after that.

  “Blayde,” Zander said in a calm, almost musical tone as he leaned closer to me. “Allow me to introduce to you Prime Minister Harbin of the Killi nation.”

  “It is an honor,” I replied, bowing low at the waist as Zander translated. “I assume we need no introduction.”

  Harbin nodded. Zander continued, his eyes riveted on the prime minister. “I have done my duty as peacekeeper by taking down an assassin intent on ending your life. Do not make a mistake of ignoring our request.”

  Harbin spoke, staring at me the whole time; he obviously wanted to hear more from Blayde.

  “I can't ignore what we're not talking about,” the prime minister snapped. “What do you want with me?”

  “He says he cannot ignore what is not being discussed,” Zander relayed, “and wishes to hear your plea.”

  Okay, so I had no idea what the plea was. Things I knew? Zander had said they wanted to attack us. Well, not exactly. He said they were going to incinerate us. Not cool. I also knew that Zander was bad at filling in other people on his plans, leaving me to improvise.

  Luckily, I was already mad. Call it the good posture that had my blood flowing right or the stilettos that made me feel like a superwoman, but I felt a fire burning inside me that I had never felt before.

  “First, I want him to tell me what the hell he thinks he's doing,” I snapped, taking a firm step forward. The energy pulsing through me rolled the words off my tongue. “Listen to me, Prime Minister Harbin, and listen well because I know you can understand. I don't know if anyone's told you this before, but you cannot threaten the lives of an entire planet without attempting diplomatic communication with those who care for its well-being. We—they—are a developed race, capable of space flight and communication, choosing to resolve their issues at home before delving into the universe. They can do much more than you assume. So, let me speak for Earth, and say, quite clearly, that we want you out of our airspace—now.”

  The look on Zander's beaming face said it all. He looked at me like he had recognized a long-lost love, practically falling toward me like a needle to a magnet. The entire room was quiet, the weight of my words heavy on their minds.

  Well, I could only assume. Maybe I had said something wrong and they were thinking how much I needed to burn. But I felt good. I hadn't even broken a sweat.

  “Shiiiiiit.” The prime minister let out a low whistle. “All right, we’re listening. Tell your sister she’s got our attention.”

  “We will …” Zander translated, somehow keeping a straight face. “We will speak with you.”

  “Then speak,” I said, my voice echoing through the silent chamber.

  “We are here for our sons and daughters,” Harbin said. “The ones who never returned.”

  “Did they die here? Were they taken by our people?”

  “They crashed but still live,” Zander relayed. “We do not know where they are, but assume they are held hostage by the Earth government for knowledge and information.”

  “They are not,” I said sternly, though I hadn't the slightest idea. “When did they crash?”

  “Three thousand Earth rotations around the star ago,” Zander said, mimicking the stern, all-knowing voice of the prime minister.

  “Just say year, Zander,” I said to him. “Look. Earth humans do not have a long lifespan. Three thousand years is over 10,000 generations ago. Your crashed ship has not been heard of. Are you certain it crashed on this planet?”

  “We followed the distress call. It has only recently been shut off, so we know we are in the correct hemisphere.”

  “Then it is yet to be found,” I asserted.

  “Then find it.”

  “We are not your lapdogs,” I said. “Send some men down to search. Better yet, convince some humans to do it for you, but don't hold the entire planet to ransom for a reason it is unaware of.”

  I was on a roll here, and I felt good. Better than I had in ages, in fact. The fear of dying and being surrounded by Roswellian aliens stoked a fire in my gut.

  Zander added a few words that made the prime minister angry. He growled while glaring at Zander.

  “What's he saying now?” I asked, confused.

  “He said if we don't find his people this grishning instant, he's going to boil everything on the planet's surface.”

  “Can we stop them?”

  “We do not take threats idly,” Zander spat at Harbin. “Leave this planet or face our wrath.”

  “No.”

  The voice resonated through the room. This man wanted his people, and he wanted them now. And, although I wasn’t this Blayde woman they seemed to fear, I wouldn’t stand for my planet being threatened. I took a step toward Harbin, feeling his eyes riveted on me and me alone.

  My name is Sally Webber. I’m a human from Earth, a college dropout with no career ambition. I’m wearing a wig, and I really need to sit down; these heels are killing me. And I’m going to save my planet and everyone on it from complete annihilation.

  “Give us time, and we will find your people,” I asserted. “You know of my power. Trust us.”

  Zander sighed. “He says he doesn't.”

  “Either trust us to find your people, or leave and never come back. Either way, you leave this planet now.”

  “And now he wants you dead.”

  It was, quite literally, a do-or-die moment.

  “Fat chance,” I snapped.

  Then I caught myself—I had nothing to bargain with. I fell from being Blayde and became Sally in a split second, like waking from a dream, or a deep spell. I almost squeaked with the realization of where I was and what I was doing.

  Holy shit. Why for goodness sake? You could see the entire East Coast from the window. We were on a spaceship, hovering high above the planet's surface, and I was trying to parley with a creature I had never even heard of before.

  Luckily, Zander kept his promise of keeping me safe. In an instant, he subdued a guard, got himself one of the large guns, and had it trained on one of the control panels on the deck.

  During the next few seconds—seconds that felt like years—the two aliens argued, speaking too low for me to hear anything. I kept scowling, hoping I hadn't destroyed whatever impression I had made earlier.

  And, then, Zander blew up the control panel.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It’s a Long Way Down from Outer Space,

  B
ut We're Only at Lower Earth Orbit

  People scrambled everywhere, screaming, shouting, pressing buttons, but it was too late. The ship hurtled toward Earth at an increasing rate, and it was going down. While everyone on board jumped out of their seats and toward what must have been escape pods, Zander tossed the weapon to the ground and wiped his palms.

  Okay, not quite the way I had wanted this to go.

  “What the hell did you just do?” I screamed, dropping all pretense of ever having been Blayde. Zander shrugged as a light burst above his head and sent sparks through the room.

  I tossed the wig to the ground as it caught fire, my face hot with fury.

  “Never fear, sister dear.” He winked, sliding to a control panel and typing in an apparently random assortment of numbers. “Ship's going down in the Atlantic. They're taking an escape pod far away from here. Their weapons are useless, and we're free to go. Great performance, by the way. Totally sold the Blayde-itude. I couldn't have done it better myself. Well, I probably could, but I wasn't feeling the dress today. Too bloated. Anyway, shall we?”

  He held out his hand, expecting me to take it, but I drew back.

  “To go where?” I screamed. “We’re crashing, Zander. And guess who has the pods?”

  He grinned in response, picking the large weapon up again. “So, we jump.”

  “Out of the ship?” I sputtered. “Zander, I don't do well with heights.”

  “Trust me?”

  “Not enough to jump out of a spaceship, no.”

  “You trusted me enough to get on it. I promised to keep you safe, and you are going to be safe.”

  “By jumping out of a spaceship?” I looked out of the window, and my stomach fell. At least we had artificial gravity. The thought of tumbling around the gigantic room did not sound very pleasant, and by the way the earth spun outside the window, it gave me enough of an impression to last a lifetime.