by Rachel Ford
Again, the taxman was uncertain of the compliment paid. But he accepted it with a show of gratefulness.
“But come. The Louvre awaits.”
The week passed before Alfred knew it. When Friday rolled around, Sand Plains was hosting another UFO festival. The crowds were pouring in, and the town was overrun in conspiracy theorists and extraterrestrial enthusiasts.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” the taxman wondered. “Won’t people see the ship coming in?”
“You ever hear the adage about hiding things on the mantle?” Cassidy asked. They certainly weren’t on friendly terms now, but the agent, in the intervening days since he’d arrived, had grown to hate Alfred less than he had initially.
“Yes.”
“Well…” He shrugged. “If we have UFOs flying in here without cover, people are going to see them, and there’s going to be trouble. But when we have a festival, and pretend it’s part of the show…”
“Oh.” Alfred nodded. “That’s ingenious.”
“It’s always worked. Until you showed up, anyway.”
“Sorry about that.”
“And even if someone does see something strange…with that many kooks around, who is going to take them seriously?”
Alfred considered this, and thought to his own early days in Sand Plains. He thought of the people he’d met, the Trent Warwicks and Phil Fletchers. “No one,” he decided.
“Exactly.”
“But why hide at all? The Geejayans are obviously a friendly people. Why keep them a secret?”
“That’s above my pay grade. But the consensus from on high is that we’re not ready. People, I mean; we’re not ready to accept that we aren’t alone out there.” He shrugged. “And, knowing what I know of humanity, I can’t say I disagree.”
Alfred thought about that, and found himself agreeing again. He remembered Josh’s reaction, and his talk of national security. He remembered Phil’s fantasies about alien seeding. He remembered the museum’s chronicles of imagined abductions, and all the fanciful stories people had told – told, and eagerly consumed. “No,” he said at last, “I guess we’re not ready.”
As evening approached, Li made ready to leave. “I will miss you, my dear friend.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Alfred said, and he sincerely meant it.
“Perhaps someday I will return.”
“I hope you’ll look me up, if you do.”
The alien smiled until their eyes vanished. “I will.”
“Well,” Cassidy said, “we should probably get going. The cart’s waiting.”
Li nodded. “I reflect with great fondness on our time together, Alfred Favero. In my time with you, I have eaten your foods, I have lived in your homes, I have traveled your streets. I have even been sexually harassed by one of your males.”
Cassidy gaped, and he turned accusatory eyes at the taxman. “Not me!” Alfred flushed.
“Oh, no,” the alien hastened to explain. “Alfred behaved in only the most gallant fashion. But do not fear for my safety, Commander Cassidy. I flattened the offender’s nose.”
“Oh.” Mike seemed at a loss as for how to respond to that. “That’s…uh…good.”
Li smiled. “Yes. But I have had all of these experiences because of you, Alfred. Before, my knowledge of your species was gleaned only from television programs and news broadcasts and literature. But now I have lived the experiences of your people. I have walked and eaten among them. I am forever in your debt.”
Now, the Geejayan turned to Mike. “And to you, Mike Cassidy, I am also indebted. The media trove you have gifted my people, of your new human shows and movies, will be invaluable in our further interactions.”
“Of course,” the agent nodded. “And let me say, I am honored to have met you, too, Ambassador.”
“Well then,” Li said, “there’s nothing that remains to be said, except, catch you later, alligator.”
And with that, the alien departed.
Chapter Thirty
Alfred was debriefed the next morning. At least, in name it was called a debriefing. In reality, it was more a series of threats and warnings – a rundown of all the ways Uncle Sam would find and destroy him if he ever opened his mouth about his experiences with Li’Muldan.
“I already told you,” he protested after three or four hours of this, “I won’t say anything. But that still doesn’t clear up the tax fraud issue.”
Cassidy glared at him. “You realize Landing Zone Earth is just a front, right, for Area Fifty-One?”
“Of course I do. Now. But that doesn’t mean you can be sloppy in your tax filings.” Cassidy’s jaw clenched, and he hastened to add, “Look, if I could figure out something was wrong, somebody else is going to stumble onto it sooner or later, and you’re going to wind up in the same mess.”
“I told you I’d have my lawyers look into it. Well, I did. Turns out Department of Defense has this place under their budget. So the filings you saw were accurate, for the finances we touched.” Alfred was about to protest that this was only looking for trouble when he held up a hand. “I’ve got them looking into how we can fix that, just in case we run into another nosy bastard with too much time on his hands, who thinks he’s found a discrepancy.”
The taxman frowned, but didn’t argue. Eventually, the debriefing wrapped up. “There’ll be a plane for you tomorrow. Needless to say, Mr. Favero, I hope I never see you again.”
“You won’t,” Alfred promised.
“Good. Oh, and one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“That girl of yours, Nancy? She’s been calling every day, multiple times a day, trying to find out where you are and see if you’re okay.” Cassidy shook his head, as if he was annoyed. But the expression didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “You better make sure you let her know you’re alright, so I don’t have to head down there and arrest her for harassing a government office.”
The taxman’s suspension ended Monday morning, and he marched into Caspersen’s office ready to plead drunkenness and beg for mercy. But she cut him off before he’d even had a chance to begin. “I had a very interesting conversation with some men from Department of Defense, Alfred.”
He gulped. “You…did?”
“Yes. They told me to expect you back today.”
“Did they say anything else?”
She smiled evasively. “Anything concrete? Oh, no. They were far too good at their jobs for that. But I was given to understand that there was some manner of ‘misunderstanding’, and that you were not drunk.”
“Oh.”
“So I’m going to rescind the suspension, and issue you backpay.”
“Oh.” Alfred’s tone was a little brighter. After everything he’d spent on Li, backpay would come in handy. “Then…I’m free to resume my duties?”
She nodded, and he rose to leave. “Alfred?”
“Yes?”
“That story you told me, about seeing an alien?”
“Yes?”
“That was made up, right?”
Alfred smiled. “I’m not at liberty to say, Director.”
“Ah. Of course.”
He walked to the door, and turned before exiting. “But Caspersen?”
“Yes?”
“I never lie to you.”
Leaving her to ponder that in all its implications, he headed to his own office.
Like a spider waiting for the kill, Justin was waiting for him to pass. “Freddie,” he called, “good to see your smiling face again. Caspersen let you back into the building, then?”
“Busy, Justin,” he declared, shutting his office door after him. He logged into his computer, and stared at his inbox. Three-hundred and forty-three unread emails. His eyes hurt just thinking about that.
He got up, and marched out of the office again.
“I wasn’t sure we were going to see you again,” Justin called as he passed. “There were some scary looking dudes asking questions about you while you were off, you know.�
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He ignored this, and turned his steps to the nerd bunker. In his time in Area 51, he’d had time to think. And when he wasn’t thinking about what an imbecile he’d been, he spent it thinking about Nancy Abbot. And he’d come to the conclusion that he wasn’t done fighting for her. He’d never explicitly told her that he cared for her. He’d done a lot of stupid, and a few courageous, things these past few weeks. But he hadn’t faced the single most important, and terrifying, challenge of his life. He was going to do it. He was going to tell her how he felt, and what a fool he’d been. And if she still chose Josh afterwards, well, at least he would know he tried. He’d still lose, but at least he wouldn’t lose because of cowardice.
Jeff Filmore spotted him first as he entered. “Well they didn’t fire you, I guess,” he said, and seemed rather disappointed by the revelation. “We were taking bets.”
Alfred went on. Nancy’s door was open, and he could see her inside. He walked to the doorway, and then knocked.
She glanced up, and her eyes sparkled. “Alfred.”
“Nancy. Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
“Great. I…uh…wanted to tell you about…well, what happened.”
She nodded eagerly. “Get the door.” He did, and then stood, fidgeting nervously. He saw the teddy bear, the one Li had won, on a shelf by her video game figurines. “Well?”
“Actually, Nance, that wasn’t the only reason I’m here.”
“Oh?”
“The thing is…well…that is…” He cleared his throat. “Are you free this weekend?”
“All of it?”
“Well, some of it, at least. I know you and Josh probably have plans…”
She shook her head. “No, actually, Alfred.”
“You’re not free?”
“Josh and I don’t have plans.” She smiled, a bittersweet smile. “We broke up, Alfred. That is, I broke up with him.”
The taxman felt his heart soar. “You did?”
She nodded. “The thing is…I think he’s not my type.”
“Of course not, Nance,” he said emphatically. “You’re way too smart for that jarhead.”
She frowned at him now. “That’s not what I meant, Alfred. Josh is plenty smart. It’s just…he’s not my type.” She shrugged. “I like older guys.”
“Well,” he said, “there’s something to be said for maturity.”
“Grumpier,” she continued. “More self-absorbed. Less thoughtful. Sometimes, a little denser.”
He was frowning now, his hope that she’d go out with him quickly fading. “That sounds awful, Nance.”
She nodded. “I know.” There was a twinkle in her eye that he didn’t quite comprehend. “What can I say? I have terrible taste in men. Speaking of…would you like to get dinner some time, Alfred?”
He blinked. “You mean…a date?” She nodded again, and then he frowned, comprehending, at last, what she’d been saying. “Me? You mean, I’m your type?”
“Apparently. So, is it a yes?”
He wasn’t even annoyed by her description of him. He’d earned that, fair and square. “Of course.”
“Good.” She smiled. “How about tonight?”
“Tonight?” He hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ve got that report for…” He trailed off as her eyebrows rose. “Actually,” he decided, “that’ll wait. Tonight sounds perfect.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Alfred returned to his desk all smiles. He’d just sat down when his phone buzzed with an application alert. “You’ve been tagged in a post by Nancy Abbot,” it said.
Unlocking the phone to see what she’d tagged him in, the taxman felt his heart skip a beat. “Nancy Abbot is in a relationship with Alfred Favero.”
He liked the post. Then, he changed his like to a love. Then, he updated his own relationship status, so that it read “Alfred Favero is in a relationship with Nancy Abbot.” And, just for good measure, he loved his own status update, too.
A moment later, a text from Nancy flashed across his screen. “There we go. Now it’s official.”
He grinned, and the grin only broadened when her message was followed by a gif of a dancing lady, captioned with, “It’s internet official.”
He hesitated, wondering if he dared send back a heart emoji. They’d only, officially, been boyfriend and girlfriend for three-quarters of an hour. They hadn’t even gone out on a date yet. Was that too soon? In the end, he settled on a cat with hearts in lieu of eyes. That, he decided, was a little safer. You can’t go wrong with a cartoon cat.
He’d just hit the send button when a message from an unknown number popped up. It read, “Groovy, Alfred. I knew you could do it. This will be a happy conclusion to my report on my observations of human mating rituals. A happy ending for my report, but a happy beginning for you. Long life and many happy returns to you and Nancy. Catch you later, alligator.”
When the taxman tried to reply, he received an error that said the message could not go through. He was not surprised. But he smiled all the same. He didn’t need to respond to know where the text had come from. No one but Nancy and a handful of government spooks would believe him, of course.
But Alfred knew: it had come from an alien who had walked among humans, an extraterrestrial en route from Earth to his home world. It had come from his friend, Li’Muldan.
“Catch you later, alligator,” he said, to no one in particular.
About the Author
Rachel Ford is a software engineer by day, and a writer most of the rest of the time. She is a Trekkie, a video-gamer, and a dog parent, owned by a Great Pyrenees named Elim Garak and a mutt of many kinds named Fox (for the inspired reason that he looks like a fox).
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She is also on Twitter @RachelFordWI and Instagram @RFord191
More from the Author
Tribari Freedom Chronicles series:
Book 1: Catalyst, novelette. Ebook and audiobook
Book 2: Uprising, novel. Ebook and paperback. Audiobook expected by end of March 2019.
Book 3: Liberation, novel. Ebook and paperback, available May 30th. Audiobook to follow
Time Travelling Taxman novels:
Book 1: T-Rexes & Tax Law – ebook, paperback and audiobook.
Book 3: MarvelousCon & Tax Cons – ebook and paperback, available April 19th. Audiobook to follow
Also releasing soon:
Mission to Mitrak (military sci-fi novella) – ebook and paperback, available for preorder. Releases April 5th. Audiobook to follow
Black Flag: Safe Passage (space opera novel) – ebook and paperback, available May 3rd. Audiobook to follow.
Other works available now:
Prison Break (sci-fi novelette) – ebook and audiobook