Aliens Abroad

by Gini Koch

  Wondered what Mom and Dad would make of this. Potentially more than I was. Worried about my parents, having to cover things while we were gone. Worried about Mom and Dad having to lie to Alfred and Lucinda. Worried about all the pets left on Earth. Then chose to worry closer to home, so to speak, and worried about Jamie, Charlie, and Lizzie, then all the other kids.

  Could have kept on worrying about everyone and everything, but Bruno squawked quietly and I stopped. Shoved the worry away hard because Bruno had made a good point—we didn’t want Jamie picking the worry up, because we really didn’t want any of the kids to try to come down here. In no small part because, despite the lack of apparent danger, I was sure that we were in trouble of some kind, because I didn’t believe SuperBun had actually had Butler taken away out of concern for Butler’s robotic health.

  As we got closer to our destination, could confirm those were indeed squirrels driving cars and doing assembly line work, and they were all normally squirrel sized, just like SuperBun and his rabbits were normal bunny sized. There was something wrong about that, but I didn’t have time to think about it because we finally reached the ground. Tried not to breathe a sigh of relief but felt all of us relax, animals included. SuperBun as well, which was interesting.

  He hopped off and we followed. The area we were in looked like all the others we’d seen from above, only now that we were down here on this version of ground level, it was just about the same as when we’d been above it. Smells were the same, noise level wasn’t too much more than we’d heard while on the platform, and while everything around us was huge, we weren’t as dwarfed as I’d expected us to be. Frankly, things had looked larger when we’d been about halfway down than they did now.

  “Something’s off,” Chuckie said quietly. “Be on guard.”

  Algar was clearly in agreement. My music changed to “Something’s Missing” by John Mayer, and I counted song time in my head—it had taken us about fifteen minutes to lower from when I’d put my headphones in, so if I guessed our time in the dark correctly, we’d been on the platform for a good twenty minutes.

  On Earth, that would mean we were far underground, even on the slowest elevator. Looked up. I could still see the top, as patches of light appeared and vanished, depending on what was going up or coming down.

  Had no idea what this meant in reality, but it was clear that what we were seeing wasn’t necessarily what actually was. Wanted to ask Ginger and Bruno what they were seeing, but had a feeling that would broadcast to SuperBun. Wasn’t sure that all I’d been thinking hadn’t broadcast to him, but hope liked to spring eternal.

  SuperBun hopped along and we followed. Realized I hadn’t asked his name. “What should we be calling you?” I asked as I caught up to him.

  He replied that he quite fancied SuperBun and I could keep on using that for him.

  “I’m glad you like your superhero nickname, but do you have a real one, one that people other than me use for you? We all have real names and nicknames. Not sure if that’s just us, though.”

  He replied that, so far, we were the only people he’d met.

  “Oh, sorry, semantics. I think of everyone sentient as a person. You’re a fluffy, adorable person, I’ve met big, scary, Cthulhu-type people, people who look like us but are different inside, and so on. It’s just easier to think of everyone as equal in their personhood than not.”

  SuperBun stopped hopping, sat up on his haunches, and stared at me. He found this mindset of mine shocking.

  “Why?” I asked as the others gathered ’round. “You’re sentient, you’re in charge of your planet, or at least part of it, you guys clearly have a system of some kind going, what’s wrong with thinking of you as people? I mean, I’m not gonna change that mindset, but I’m curious as to why you find it so odd.”

  SuperBun did a fast shake of his head, like a lot of animals will. It was beyond adorable when he did it, ears flapping fast. He blinked at me when he was done with his shake. He wasn’t a people, he was an animal.

  “Yes, but you’re a sentient animal,” I replied. “I mean, I’m best friends with a lizard-woman, a cat-person, and a giant dog-girl. They go by the official race titles of Reptilian, Feliniad, and Canus Majorian, but they’re still people and still my friends. Sure, they’re somewhat humanoid, too, because they walk on their hind legs just like we humans, or Naked Apes, do, and they’re a lot closer to our size. But still, they count as people. You guys, do, too. You have a sense of humor, you have the ability to be snide, you have the ability to be thoughtful, and so on. I don’t see why me thinking of you as people versus just as adorable things to cuddle is a problem.”

  SuperBun did a full body shake. We could talk about this later. Then he hopped off again.

  We all looked at each other. Noted that Christopher was carrying Bruno and Jeff had Ginger. Decided not to ask why.

  As we followed SuperBun again my phone rang. Was able to answer it without alerting SuperBun since my headphones were in. Didn’t want to say hello, but it turned out I didn’t have to.

  “Kitty, it’s Tim.” He sounded out of breath, like he was running. “Took a chance that you were listening to music. I figure you are, since you’re not speaking. Keep it that way, don’t let that rabbit you’re with know I’ve called you. So, you don’t talk, just listen. Don’t ask me how, but Mother can actually keep our cell phones working out here. For which we’re really grateful to her and Drax, because we’re under attack.”

  CHAPTER 33

  DID MY BEST TO focus on thinking about flowers and grass and that the squirrels working on the machines were super cute but not as cute as the bunnies. SuperBun kept on hopping with purpose, so hoped I was keeping this conversation from him.

  “There are like a million rabbits and they’re all after us,” Tim went on, proving that my worry about attack was spot on. “I’m not sure if they plan to kill us, eat us, or capture us, but we’re cut off from the shuttle. The only reason we’re still alive is that we have A-Cs, Wruck, and the princesses with us, and I don’t think the rabbits have hyperspeed, for which we should all be thankful.”

  Really wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Which was frustrating and added to the worry I was experiencing. This clearly reached Jeff, because he took my hand again.

  We were following a path that led us past a variety of construction areas. Wasn’t positive, but felt sure that the squirrels were making nuclear weapons. Chuckie might know for sure, but now wasn’t the time to ask him.

  Tim continued. “Our weapons aren’t working. Not sure if it was the ‘water’ those elephants sprayed on us or not, but the only weapons we have that are functional are Rahmi and Rhee’s battle staffs, and Tito, James, and I don’t think we want to kill these things. Yet. We have help coming, but we told them to hover, not land, just in case.”

  Saw a squirrel talking into what looked like a walkie-talkie. This was getting past surreal and into Alice in Wonderland territory. Wondered if the rabbits used walkies or if they were all getting their instructions from SuperBun. Or someone else. Based on the fact that we were heading somewhere, and that SuperBun had divided our team, I was starting to lean toward the “someone else” idea. So, presumably, we were heading for Dr. Moreau’s personal lair. Goody.

  “The second shuttle cruised the planetary space area. Per Cameron, there’s a small planet or a moon close by that is orbiting this planet. Or else the planet is orbiting the moon—we can’t tell for sure yet. But it looks like it once had life on it. It looks normal, more normal than the planet we’re on. Drax thinks that it only recently became uninhabited, based on worlds he’s seen.”

  This world had seemed like a little paradise for a while, but now I wasn’t so sure. There was a lot going on, more than Sandy had told us, which was so totally par for our course that I didn’t even complain about it in my mind.

  But now I wanted to hear Pat Benatar sing “Little Pa
radise” and all her other kick-butt songs. And this reminded me of a way to get information across, particularly to Tim. “Jeff, when we get back, I really want to listen to the Beatle’s “Help!” album. On the shuttle, so everyone can hear it.”

  “Uh, why?” he asked.

  “And then maybe “Top of the World” by the Carpenters.”

  “Again, why?”

  “I just like the songs.”

  “Then why not listen to them right now?”

  “Because right now I’m listening to “Trouble in Paradise” and don’t want to change the song.”

  “By Huey Lewis and the News?”

  “Yes.” Wondered if he was catching on or not.

  Chuckie had. “I’d like to suggest “Guarded” by Disturbed, myself.” He was on my other side, and definitely had projected his voice toward the microphone portion of my headset. But subtly. We were good. If it mattered, because I still wasn’t sure that SuperBun wasn’t mentally eavesdropping. Though if he was, he gave no indication.

  Looked around, sure enough, could see a lot of squirrels who weren’t working but were on catwalks, watching us. Couldn’t tell if they were holding weapons, but if our weapons weren’t working, too, then there were a lot of them and they had nasty teeth and claws, just like the rabbits did.

  “I heard that,” Tim said. “So you guys are surrounded, too. But it sounds like you’re not in trouble yet. I mean, no more than we normally are at this juncture, which means that you haven’t hit the really bad part yet.” He stopped panting. “We’re resting for a minute. We think we’ve outdistanced the rabbits, but we’re keeping watch. So far, nothing but grass as far as we’ve run through or seen. And no life other than the rabbits after us, and more of those stupid watering elephants doing their thing.”

  “That’s a good one. How about Miss Li’s “Gotta Leave My Troubles Behind”?”

  “I like that one,” White said. Figured he’d caught on at least when Chuckie had, if not before. He was used to working with me, after all, and he’d been there with me when I’d deciphered Tim’s musical clues correctly during the latter half of Operation Confusion.

  “We’re not leaving you guys in there, so, nice try, but hells to the no,” Tim said. “The ship can see us and they’re tracking us. We can get extracted if necessary. But we have no idea where you guys are and we’re not leaving you here on this freak world.”

  “What about “Matter Made” by the Acid Girls?” I asked. It was hard to come up with song titles that would get my point across—that I was by now pretty sure we were on a manmade or, rather, superconsciousness-made or adapted world.

  “You’re desperate if you’re going for straight instrumentals,” Tim said. “I’m thinking, hang on. If you can.”

  “Not one of my favorites,” Jeff said, joining the party. “But I don’t have anything to suggest.”

  “How about “Ghost in the Machine” by B.o.B.? You like that one.”

  “Got it,” Tim said. “Thanks. You think this world was made by one of Sandy’s friends.”

  “That’s a good one,” Jeff said.

  “Glad you think so.” It was always nice when I could say one sentence that answered who I was talking to in person and on the phone at the same time.

  SuperBun stopped hopping. We were in front of a large set of double doors, easily three times taller than Jeff and wider than all of us standing abreast. Saw no handles or knockers or anything. This boded. Not that boding hadn’t been happening since we’d landed.

  “I guess we’re here?” Hey, had to tell Tim something.

  “Gotcha,” Tim said. “You want me to stay on the line or hang up?”

  Thought fast. It would be good to have Tim hear what he could, but I couldn’t have an entire conversation with whatever stranger was on the other side of those doors using musical clues. Also, Algar might have more for me if I got back onto my playlist. “Two last song suggestion before we go in,” I said. “How about “Leave Me Alone (I’m Lonely)” by Pink and “Invisible Man” by Joshua Kadison?”

  The guys with me all said those were good songs, so I knew they’d all caught on, because Christopher detested Kadison and usually whined if I played anything by him and Oliver would only be chiming in about my musical choices if he understood what I was doing.

  “Got it,” Tim said. “I’ll hang up and we’ll get Siler down here. Good plan. We’ll get down to you somehow.”

  “Oh,” I said quickly, “and we can’t forget my fave song for Jeff, “Elevator” by Flo Rida. ’Cause there’s only one Flo and only one Rida.”

  “Check,” Tim said. “Just Siler and Wruck to search for you and we’ll see if we can find any of those platform things that don’t have elephants or rabbits on them—we passed lots, all were occupied. The rest of us will run away from rabbits just to keep in shape. Good luck, Kitty.” Then he hung up.

  My music started up again, “I’ve Got a Theory/Bunnies/If We’re Together” by the Buffy the Vampire Slayer cast from their stellar musical episode. Nice to see Algar was keeping it light.

  It was a short song, and only lasted as long as it took for the big doors to open noiselessly. My music changed to “Be Prepared” from the Lion King soundtrack. Algar was all about the interesting choices.

  “I was expecting creaking,” Oliver admitted.

  “Or noise of any kind,” White agreed.

  “Light would have been nice,” was my contribution. Because it was murky as hell inside.

  SuperBun hopped in, however, so we followed, doors closing noiselessly behind us. Wasn’t sure if a loud, final-sounding bang would have been better or just more appropriate.

  But once the doors closed, lights came on.

  We all stared and we all gaped. Who SuperBun hopped over to was not, despite my musical warning, what I and, I was pretty sure, the others had been expecting. At all.

  We all stood there, speechless. Realized one of us had to break the silence. So I did. Managing the only words I could come up with.

  “Um . . . Santa?”

  CHAPTER 34

  WELL, HE LOOKED LIKE SANTA CLAUS. Muscular but fat, white hair, moustache, and beard, rosy cheeks, jolly expression, dressed in bright red with white trim.

  The room was huge, which was to be expected from the doors. But something still felt wrong with what I was seeing. Well, lots was wrong with it, really.

  We were in what looked like Santa’s toy factory. There were assembly lines, all with squirrels working at them, creating things. Things that looked like animals, but only a few kinds. There were bins filled with pygmy elephants, squirrels, and tiny horses—none of which looked quite alive or dead—but no rabbits. It reminded me a lot of the various cloning and bot factories we’d discovered. Less horrifying and disgusting than Gaultier’s Hot Zombies Factory, more alive than the bot factory under the NSA black site. Still plenty creepy.

  Probably Not Really Santa was sitting on a big chair that looked like a combination of a throne and the kinds of chairs the Santas at the malls sat on for pictures with the little ones. Only this one was on rollers. An executive Santa chair.

  About a hundred feet behind him was another set of doors. These were even bigger and more imposing than the ones we’d entered Santa’s Workshop through. They looked more firmly closed, and were sealed by something, at least as near as I could make out.

  Probably Not Really Santa smiled at me. “Have you been a good girl this year, Kitty?”

  “What the literal hell?” Chuckie muttered, as Jeff and Christopher put Bruno and Ginger down.

  “Um . . . yes?”

  “What would you like for your present?” Probably Not Really Santa asked.

  “Careful,” Chuckie said quietly. “Trust me, this is a trap.”

  “I feel nothing,” Jeff added softly. “At all. From anyone, person or animal.”


  Cleared my throat and considered my possible responses here. My music changed—to “Universe & U” by KT Tunstall. “I’d like to save the universe.”

  Probably Not Really Santa’s eyes narrowed. “Now, why would you say that?”

  Decided to go for it. “Grumpy?”

  He sat up straight. “I am not that person, nor am I that emotion. I am Lord Dupay.”

  Ran through name possibilities from this. It was pretty easy to guess. “Dopey, I presume?”

  Definitely Not Really Santa glared at me. Not up to Christopher’s standards, but not bad, either. “That’s not my name.”

  “Sure it is. I gave it to you a few years ago. Though, to be honest, I really was expecting Grumpy to be here.”

  Dopey sniffed. “She’s off doing whatever it is she does. You will call me by the name I’ve chosen.”

  She. Interesting.

  “Humor him,” White said softly.

  Heaved an internal sigh. “Fine. Lord Dupay, what’s going on?”

  “Many things, Kitty. But you haven’t answered my question. What would you like for your present?”

  “I did answer. I’d like to save the galaxy. Potentially the universe, too.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I see you’ve chatted with Grumpy, then.”

  “No, actually. We haven’t seen anyone we know here. Well, I mean, we know SuperBun now, and you, but prior to that, no one.” On this planet, I added for honesty’s sake. Chose not to mention Peter for whatever reason and, as far as I could tell, SuperBun didn’t mention him either. Interestinger.

  “Humph.” Dopey looked at SuperBun. “You like that name, Number One Bun?” Which was also a cute name, and far cuter than I’d have ever given Dopey, or any of the other superconsciousnesses we’d met, credit for coming up with.

  SuperBun indicated that he did. But in a very careful, subservient way. A way I hadn’t seen him exhibit until right now. My music changed to “Save My Life” by Pink. So, if I was interpreting this clue right, SuperBun was in as much danger as we were. Maybe all the animals we’d seen were. The ones in the bins certainly weren’t having a party.