by Rachel Ford
“Wow. So, all those stories of alien abductions after that – they’re all made up?”
“Oh, goodness yes. We don’t abduct people.” Li shuddered. “Why would we do something so dreadful?”
“Well,” Alfred admitted, “I have no idea.”
“Your culture always fascinated me. But, I must admit, I was not entirely sure our mission would find any remnant of your species left.”
“Why?”
“Well, after you developed the a-bomb, we feared your destructive nature would truly be unleashed, and you would destroy yourselves.” Li smiled. “But I am delighted that this is not the case.”
“I’m kind of glad myself,” the taxman said dryly.
“Your culture has progressed greatly. And your television programs are more dynamic. But…I do miss some of your classic programs: your I Love Lucy’s and The Three Stooges.”
Alfred didn’t have much to say on that score. He remembered his grandparents watching reruns of some of those shows, but he’d never paid them much attention. “Oh.” Then, he frowned. “You mean, your idea of human culture is based on twenty years of watching old Earth TV shows?”
Li nodded proudly. “I am an expert on human cinema and television. At the academy, I outranked every other graduate in the program with my knowledge of your culture, by an entire letter grade.”
“What program?”
“Earth Studies.”
“You mean, there’s an Earth Studies program on your planet?”
“Oh, yes. It is one of our most popular fields of academia. Your people are fascinating to us, Alfred.”
The taxman shuddered to think what this particular mission would do to the apparently stellar reputation of humanity on GJ 273b. It wouldn’t be so stellar anymore – not after one of their scientists was kidnapped and interrogated by an Earth government.
“And,” Li was continuing, “you may have noticed, I do try to mirror my speech patterns to human speech patterns. I may be a stranger, but I hope your people will recognize that I’m a real gone cat.”
If that had ever meant anything on Earth, it had been many decades before Alfred’s birth. Still, he didn’t want to hurt their feelings. The words themselves had no apparent meaning to him, but the context indicated that it was a positive aspiration. So he said, “Oh, I don’t think anyone would doubt it. The gonest cat around.”
The alien smiled, and his face seemed to recede into the expression. “Thank you. But you’re pretty radioactive yourself, Alfred.”
Chapter Twenty
They reached Josh’s house shortly after midnight. Alfred had stashed his rental in public parking about an hour away, and transferred to Nancy’s car. If the feds were looking for his vehicle, they wouldn’t find him in it.
“These,” Li had noted, “are close quarters.”
“Yes,” Josh said, somewhat sullenly. “We’ll have to get used to close quarters for the next week and a half, I guess.”
When they pulled in, the marine cautioned, “Don’t mind the mess. I just moved in. Half my stuff – what I had left, anyway – is still in boxes.”
It wasn’t so much a mess as bare. There was minimal furniture, and entire rooms sat empty. A great bean bag had been set up in front of a giant television in the living room, and Alfred rolled his eyes at the sight. Somehow, he could imagine Josh playing video games all day instead of unpacking.
Li, though, was fascinated. “What manner of seating is this?”
“It’s like a chair,” the marine answered. “But…different.”
The alien plunked into it, and their eyes widened. “How unusual.”
“I don’t really have a bed for either of you,” he told them. “But Nance had lent me her camping cot before my bed shipped. One of you can use that.”
“You take it, Alfred,” Li said.
The taxman felt rather ungallant at his own eagerness to take up the offer. “I shouldn’t,” he said. “You’re the guest.”
“Oh, I’ll sleep here,” the Geejayan declared, patting the bean bag. “In this device.”
Josh shrugged, as if it wasn’t of particular interest to him one way or the other. “Alright. Well, I’ll show you your room.”
“I should get home,” Nancy said. “I’ve got to get to work tomorrow morning.”
The marine seemed disappointed. “Alright. Hold on the room, taxman. I’ll walk you to your car, Nance.”
They disappeared, and Alfred wandered from the living room into the dining room where, coincidentally, the windows faced the driveway – and Nancy’s car. But as he saw them embrace, and saw the marine wrap her in his arms and pull her in for a kiss, he moved back to the living room. Whatever Li had seen, he thought, couldn’t compete with the evidence of his own eyes.
Josh returned in a better mood, only to find Alfred in a worse one. He didn’t seem to mind, though. “Alright,” he said briskly, “let’s get you set up for the night. And Li, do you need anything? Blankets? Pillow?”
“Oh, no. My body is perfectly capable of regulating to almost any temperature.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to your bean bag, then. Alfred, you’ll be upstairs.”
Alfred slept a long, dreamless sleep, and when he woke, he was not much more refreshed than he’d been on laying down. Still, he dragged himself out of bed, groaning all the while as the cot was not particularly comfortable, and headed for the door.
As soon as he stepped out of his room, though, he was assailed by noise. At first, his heart skipped a beat. He distinctly heard gunshots, and…was that galloping hooves?
He frowned, the pace of his heart relaxing. A sudden bombastic blast of music confirmed that it was only the television. No need to wonder if Li’s awake, he thought with a sigh.
Sure enough, the alien was seated on the beanbag chair, his long legs draped out before him, and a pile of empty boxes and wrappers to either side. There were, Alfred noticed with confusion, beer bottles too. He first suspected Josh of being the culprit for that particular contribution, but the marine was not in sight.
“Li?” he called. They were focused on the television. He tried again. “Li?”
“Oh! Alfred, I didn’t hear you.” The Geejayan grabbed for the remote, and turned the volume down a few notches. “What’s buzzin’, cousin?”
“Uh…what are you doing?”
“Watching a western.”
“Okay. With Josh?”
Li seemed confused. “No. I haven’t seen him since he went to bed last night.”
Alfred frowned. “Then…the beer bottles? And the wrappers? That was all you?”
“Beer?” The alien glanced around at the mess, then grabbed one of the empty glass bottles. “Oh, you mean this curious beverage?”
“Yeah. That’s beer.”
“Beer,” they repeated, nodding. “I rather like it. It tastes awful, but it feels…” They moved their fingers through the air. “Like bubbles. In your stomach.”
“Okay. But, uh, should you be drinking?”
“How else would I stay hydrated, Alfred? My species is not capable of osmosis.”
“I mean drinking alcohol. Can you get drunk? It looks like you went through quite a few bottles there.” He was trying to keep the notes of alarm out of his tone, but the idea of attempting to keep a drunk alien under control and out of sight darn near terrified him. Who could say what antics a drunk Geejayan might attempt?
“Oh, no. My metabolism is many times more active than the human metabolism. I have only had eighteen of these. I would need four or five times that number to be in any danger.”
“Eighteen beers?” The taxman was flabbergasted. “Wow.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there are no more. Otherwise I would offer you one, Alfred.”
“Thanks, but it’s a little early for me.” Li nodded, accepting this. “What else have you been eating?”
The alien glanced again at the piles of spent food containers. “Many things.”
“I can see that
. Is there anything left?” Alfred laughed.
But Li shook his head. “No.”
The taxman laughed again, but then frowned at his companion’s serious expression. “Wait…you mean…there really isn’t anything left?”
“No.” Then, Li frowned, the painted eyebrows raising with the motion. “I hope I have not caused a problem, Alfred? Only, I have missed so many feedings lately, I was quite famished.”
Alfred would have sat down, had there been a seat upon which to sit. “Missed feedings?” As far as he could recall, Li hadn’t done much more than eat these last days. “How many times do you eat in a normal day?”
“We have eight primary meals, and four intermediate snacking periods.”
“Sugar cookies. That’s a lot of food.”
“Yes. Our metabolisms require much more fuel than yours do.”
“Apparently,” the taxman said dryly.
“Are you mad at me, Alfred? Have I done something I should not have?”
“No, no. I just didn’t realize you needed to eat so much in a day. I hadn’t…planned for that.”
“Oh. I do apologize for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not a big deal. We’ll just have to get Josh to go shopping if we want breakfast.”
The marine, though, was far less agreeable. He rose a few minutes after Alfred, threw a mortified glance into the living room, and then headed for the kitchen. The taxman followed, judging it best to conduct the conversation that would, inevitably, ensue out of Li’s hearing. Here was another mess. An empty egg carton, a drained jug of milk, and a slew of wrappers were piled on the countertop.
“What in the hell is this?” Josh fumed. He turned to the refrigerator before Alfred could stop him, and opened the door. His jaw positively dropped at the sight of the empty shelves therein.
“Apparently Li needs to eat more than we thought. He, uh, went through everything in your fridge.” The taxman shrugged apologetically. “You need to do some shopping.”
Josh stared at him. “He ate everything in my fridge,” he said, as if the idea was almost beyond comprehension.
“I know. That’s what I just said. And he got your beer, too.”
“My beer?” Now the marine seemed really annoyed. “That’s right. Where the hell is it? I had three six-packs in there.”
“Yeah. It’s gone.”
“You brought an alcoholic extraterrestrial into my house?”
Alfred tried to explain what Li had told him, about the difference in metabolisms between humans and Geejays. Josh was not very interested. “I’m going to get a protein shake,” he said, heading to a cupboard. “A warm one, since all the ones in the fridge are gone. And then-” He drew off suddenly. “Where in the hell are my protein shakes? And the rest of my food?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Alfred wasn’t particularly surprised when the solution to this mystery turned out to be Li. When the alien mentioned eating everything edible in the house, they hadn’t been referring to what was stashed in the fridge. They’d meant, literally, everything edible – in the fridge, in the cupboards, and on the countertops. The only thing that had survived consumption had been a box of pasta – and that only because Li had thought there was something wrong with the chewy but crunchy texture, and thrown it in the trash.
“How did you eat all of that, though?” he had wondered. “Like the eggs? Did you clean the kitchen after you were done?” Based on the state of things – with wrappers and empty containers strewn every which way – he had a hard time imagining the Geejayan fastidiously scrubbing used pots and pans.
“No.”
“Well, how did you eat them, then?”
Li seemed confused. “I chewed them, of course. How else should I eat them, Alfred?”
“But…surely you cooked them? Somehow?”
“Cooked? Oh. I enjoyed the crunchiness of the shell, and the juiciness beyond.”
Alfred felt his insides roil. “You mean…you ate them raw, shell and all?”
“Of course.”
Josh stared daggers at the taxman. “I’m heading to the gym,” he said. “Without a protein shake, apparently. I expect this mess to be gone by time I get back.”
“What about food?” Alfred wondered. He was hungry.
“Good point. You can pick some up too.”
“Me? I don’t have a car.”
“Use mine. Keys are on the counter. I’ll walk. And Alfred?”
“What?”
“It better come back without a scratch.” The taxman glared at him, but he turned to go, shouting over his shoulder, “And replace my beer.”
Scowling to himself, Alfred set to work clearing the counters. Li watched him work, and then began to imitate him. They finished in the kitchen, then moved to the living room. When they’d wrapped up, he asked, “Well, I guess I’m heading to town. Do you need anything in particular?”
“Oh, you’re going? I will go with you!”
The taxman blinked. “You will? Are you sure? What if someone sees you?”
Li shrugged. “What if they do? I look completely human, thanks to Miss Nancy.”
Alfred considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Alright,” he said. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of leaving the alien alone while he shopped anyway, and the disguise was very good. The makeup had held overnight without any visible skin tone seeping through.
“Excellent.” They clapped their hands. “Let me just spritz my face with the finishing spray Nancy gave me. She said it would help the disguise last.”
Li disappeared for half a minute, and returned smiling. “Alright. I’m ready.”
“Great, let’s go.”
They headed to the garage, and even Alfred had to let out a whistle at the car he found inside. It was a slick Mustang convertible, black with silver trim. The taxman was not much of a gearhead, and so he had no idea what year it was. But it was newish, and in pristine condition. And despite being exactly the type of car he’d imagine Josh would buy, he had to admit a grudging respect for the vehicle.
Li was rapturous though, and raced for the passenger seat. As Alfred sidled into the driver’s, the alien said, “Alright! Let’s fire up this souped up flip-top!”
“You know,” the taxman said as they reached town, “we should probably buy you some new clothes before we do anything else.”
“But I have clothes, Alfred.”
“Yes, but no one wears jumpsuits.”
“I wear jumpsuits.”
“Yes, but no one human wears them. Not outside of specific occupations, anyway.”
“Oh. Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind new threads.”
This detour took them to a women’s clothing store on the south end of town. A peppy young woman greeted them, and though her manner was friendly, it did not escape Alfred’s attention that she cast a very curious glance over the alien’s attire and pink hair. “Are you looking for anything in particular?” she wondered.
“Yes,” Li said matter-of-factly. “I need new duds.”
“Oh. Well, we have plenty of clothes here.”
“Excellent.”
“We’re also running a sale, buy one pair of pants get one half off.”
“Oh. What a charming idea.”
The saleswoman regarded the pair of them for a moment, then smiled. “Well, if you need any help, let me know. Fitting rooms are in the back.”
She, mercifully, returned to the front of the store, and Alfred sighed in relief. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s find you a few shirts and pants, and then get out of here.”
“I believe we should pay first, Alfred.”
“What?”
“I believe we must pay after we acquire our merchandise. Before we go.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Of course. I just mean, we shouldn’t waste time.”
“Oh, I see.”
They wandered the store, and it seemed Li was drawn to any and everything that sparkled. Sequins were a particular downfall for th
e alien, and they spent many minutes ogling displays of shimmering tops. “That’s not very practical,” Alfred would urge. Or, “Where would you wear that?”
Finally, he managed to steer their steps toward the turtlenecks, already set out for winter, and the last t-shirts of the season. “This is on clearance,” he’d point out, and “What about this one? It’s half off.” It wasn’t that he meant to be cheap, or that he couldn’t afford the clothes. But he had invested rather a lot of money in the alien so far, and if his appetite the night before was anything to go by, he’d be spending a lot more before the mothership returned.
In the end, Li chose a turtleneck and a discounted t-shirt. But then, like a moth to flame, they returned to the shimmering blouses. They stood in front of a draping top with bell sleeves, its floral print speckled in silver gems. “I really like this one, Alfred.”
“Fine,” the taxman sighed. “Let’s get that one too.”
Pants presented a similar dilemma. The alien could be prevailed upon to grab a practical set of jeans, but not to forget the embellished pockets and extravagant prints. Four pairs of pants ended up in the pile: a paisley print that nearly made Alfred’s eyes bleed, two pairs of jeans heavy on embellishments, and a solid, practical pair of blue jeans – picked by the taxman.
The clerk smiled as they neared the counter. “Do you need any lingerie, ma’am? Our bras are forty-percent off this week.”
“No,” Alfred said quickly. The sales associate grimaced, ever so slightly, and he added, “We’re good.”
The bill came to just over four hundred dollars. The taxman was appalled. For the same amount of money, he could have got three or four times as many clothes, had he been shopping for himself. Not for the last time, he found himself wishing Nancy could have fixed Li up to look like a man. The cost of being a woman was too rich for his blood.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shopping for groceries should have been less of a challenge, but the taxman found that it was not. Li was hungry by time they reached the store, and the alien quickly proved the adage about not shopping on an empty stomach.