Kilroy was Here

by Jeff South

  “For your protection,” Dad adds.

  “Same reason I couldn’t tell you about Corporate.” I look at my parents unsure of what to say next. “I guess you guys wanna hear what I’ve been up to for the last couple of years.”

  “I filled them in while you were gone,” Randi says.

  “You were missing and we were beside ourselves,” Mom says. Dad puts his arm around her and pulls her to him. “We had no idea.”

  “We kind of fell apart one night here,” Dad tells me. “We said our son Jeff is missing and Randi put two and two together.”

  “Wait,” I say to Randi. “Didn’t you tell Corporate about this? I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been unhappy with how things have been handled under Max.” She steps to the picture of Max and stares at it. “Things are not good. Max knew about the nanotech research and he wanted to download it into a human subject and test it. He had a dream of creating a team of super agents that would guard the portal and protect the planet while doing whatever he asked without question. I’m not about that life.”

  “But you allowed Jeff to have one put in him,” I say.

  “About that.” Randi looks at the floor. “Jeff only thinks he has a nano in him. I didn’t have the heart to inject him. It was wrong.”

  “He thinks he’s got a nanotech in him that is making him a superagent.” I don’t know whether to be angry or relieved. Part of me wants to laugh.

  “All I gave him was a flu shot.” Randi walks to the spread of snacks and gobbles a piece of cheese.

  “So why not quit Corporate?” I decide I need a snack, too, so, I walk over and assemble a plate of cheese and crackers. Grandor has gathered a plate of snacks for himself and sits in the corner munching. “Work here instead.”

  “Corporate is a paying gig,” she says. “No funds in this.”

  “It’s a calling.” Kevin walks to the map of Poplar Bluff with all the push pins and gestures to it. “We’re here to protect the planet.”

  “Yeah,” says Randi, “but this calling doesn’t pay the bills. I’ve got material needs.”

  “I didn’t mean for all this to happen.” My stomach knots up and I want to time travel to before ever answering that stupid Craigslist ad about the job at Corporate. “I just needed a part-time job.”

  I look at my parents and a strange sense of calm envelops me. The anger over their secret life fades and my personal shame at my own secrets kept from them dissipates. Something about their faces tells me our relationship is somehow stronger than all of this.

  Mom gives me The Look. “We know this has been difficult. We really do understand.”

  Dad gives me The Reassurance. “We’ll get through this together.”

  “What do you guys call yourselves?” I ask. “What’s the name of this organization?”

  “No name,” Mom says. “We’re just a book club.”

  “How long have you guys been doing this?”

  Dad leads me to the row of laptops. “We’ve been tracking Herpezoid activity for years. Since before you were born. We monitor the frequency of their visits. We’ve committed ourselves to the single cause of stopping them from ever coming here. I first encountered one when I started work at the plant. I thought maybe they were behind the recent thefts.”

  “That was Jeff,” I inform him. “He trades it for cigarettes. Another long story.”

  “We learned about the Herpezoids through Kevin,” Mom adds. “We thought he was a crackpot like your Uncle Irwin. You know, the one who thinks Elvis Presley is still alive and living in a cave with Bigfoot? Then, one night, we watched him take one down.”

  Kevin steps over to join us. His voice deepens an octave and is tinged with anger. “Herpezoids are like the frat boys who show up to your party uninvited, drink all your booze, eat all your food, trash your house, and then run off with your girlfriend. I know firsthand. My first encounter with those bastards was while I was in college.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “I told you. They took on the form of a fraternity and showed up at one of my parties. They drank all my booze, ate all my food, and ran off with my girlfriend and all the girlfriends of my friends. They left my apartment an absolute mess.” He looks off at some unseen point, reliving the obviously still hurtful memory. “I got my phone bill the next month and discovered those assholes called several numbers in Luxembourg and Denmark. Two-thousand-dollar phone bill.”

  “I don’t understand.” I survey the row of laptops, each with photos of red dots flashing on maps of Poplar Bluff. Each dot representing possible Herpezoid activity. “How are they able to take human form?”

  “DNA morphers,” says a voice behind us. We turn to Grandor, who is shoveling snacks into his mouth. “Very expensive and illegal in most parts of the galaxy. Herpezoids procure them and take them so they can assume human form.”

  “Do you procure those for them?” Randi asks.

  “Not me,” he replies. “I do not know where they get them. I want nothing to do with those cretins.”

  The flat screen monitor on the wall sounds an alert and flashes the words “Incoming Message.” Dad runs to the keyboard and answers the call. The image of Jeff Harper appears onscreen, appearing to video call.

  “Dude!” His voice is breathless. “My mom and I kicked some Herpezoid ass! Who can say that? Me! I’m the only one! We’ve been bonding” He moves the camera over to his mother Sandra. She uses a handkerchief to wipe green Herpezoid blood from her face.

  “Damn straight, sweetie! But, we didn’t get all of them. They got away in an RV.”

  Sandra’s reference of the RV sparks my memory much in the way looking at weapons and star maps stirs the nanotech in my brain. I walk to him. “Did the RV have flames painted on it?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “How’d you know?”

  “Pretty sure I’ve seen it before. I think it belongs to the carnival company.”

  “Mirror Ball Entertainment?” Mom facepalms herself. “I hired Herpezoids to run the River Luau.”

  “Carnies,” I mutter. “Herpezoids. Of course.”

  “No sign of Miss America, though,” Jeff pouts. “I tried using the tracking device, but I’m sure it’s been disabled.”

  “That RV. It belongs to some carnies.” I pace around the room. “If those Herpezoids are disguised as carnies, then maybe Jackleigh is there with Jeff’s car and Jeff told us earlier that his car is the quintonium drive.”

  “We need to hit the River Luau.” Randi grabs a weapon from the wall and inspects it.

  “Not right now,” Mom says. “It’s only 10:00. It’s still really crowded. We need to wait till after midnight when it shuts down.”

  “Herpezoids posing as carnies in a darkened carnival.” I shudder at the thought. “Now all I need is someone dressed as a mascot to chase me with an ax and my life is complete.”

  “We’re on our way to you guys,” Jeff says. “Kilroy out.”

  “Kilroy?” Dad asks.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Excuse me.” Grandor hold out an empty platter. “Do you have any more of these so-called ‘Rice Krispies Treats?’ They are delectable.”

  “Why is he here again?” Randi asks.

  *

  “I have told you repeatedly,” an exasperated Grandor huffs. His eyes are swollen from a round of recent crying. “I wanted to turn the Earth into a resort. Humanity would be the servants.”

  “Why should we trust anything you say?” asks Dad.

  “You should not.” Grandor stands and walks around the room, gesturing like a washed up stage actor giving one final performance before calling it a career. It is the rant of a frustrated teenager tired of being told about all the things they do wrong. “I am unbalanced, unstable, and unreliable, oooookaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy?! My heart has been shattered by a heartless, perfidious she-demon and I cannot think clearly as a result.

  “You should free me.” He drops to his knees and holds his arms out for no apparent
reason than to heighten the dramatic effect. “Rid yourselves of the burden of my existence. I shall find Jackie on my own. This is personal.”

  “He’s a deal,” Mom whispers to me, to which I can only nod in agreement.

  “Tell us about the quintonium drive.” Randi jerks Grandor to his feet. “What does it do? Do you have the plans?”

  “Must I repeat myself? I know nothing of the quintonium drive. I never had it. I never possessed the plans. Ask Simon Tybalt. The drive is his baby, as they say.”

  “This is going nowhere,” Kevin says. He pulls the JazzHands Phaser from the wall and sticks it to Grandor’s head. “Tell us about the drive or I’ll pump enough of this in you to make you perform all of West Side Story without an intermission.”

  “You do realize at any moment I could use my powers and end you.” Grandor reaches up and squeezes Kevin’s gun into a wad. “Besides, how do you know I have not performed all of West Side Story without an intermission on numerous occasions already?”

  *

  Midnight comes quickly and we exit Someone Else’s Books. Kevin stays behind to monitor any further activity from other book club members. Jeff, Sandra, and Randi board the VW Cosmic Bus we took from Simon Tybalt’s moon lair, while my parents, Grandor, and I get in the minivan. Grandor wears an odd look of serenity on his face. His lips curled slightly in a kind of satisfied grin. He is the eight-foot purple alien that ate the canary. Something about this is not right.

  Jeff leans out of the driver’s side window of the bus and looks back at us. He motions for Dad to pull the van up next to him. Mom rolls down her window and I roll down the van window so I can hear the conversation better.

  “Tony,” he calls out. “How are you feeling? Do you need a smoke?”

  “No,” I call back. “I think I’m good. It’s not bothering me.” My friend lights up a Mongalisonian cigarette of his own and draws a deep drag. “You probably don’t need that now, either,” I tell him.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “Later,” I tell him because I can see Randi waving her hand in front of her throat to give me the cut signal from her seat on the bus.

  “What is he saying, need a smoke?” Mom asks. “Why would you need a smoke?”

  “Yeah,” Dad adds. “What’s not bothering you?”

  Before I can be busted for failing to tell my parents a small electronic bug is attached to my brain downloading the entirety of the Corporate knowledge bank into my brain, a figure whisks by on a motor scooter and skids to a sudden stop in front of us. The figure drops the kickstand and dismounts the scooter. The rider removes their helmet and I recognize Marlene’s familiar freckled face glistening with sweat and smudged with small streaks of green goo. Her sandy blond hair is pulled into a very familiar ponytail. She wears jogging shorts and a goo-smeared t-shirt advertising a 5k run. Her breathing is labored and she clutches her stomach. She grimaces and drops to the pavement.

  “Marlene!” I run and kneel next to her. I clutch her hand and try to scan the nanotech in my brain for ways to help, but I don’t really know what’s wrong.

  “I took out two Herpezoids a little bit ago,” she announces. “Close to the River Luau. Still don’t know where the Araneae are being kept.”

  “There’s more and more of them, it seems,” Dad says.

  Marlene makes eye contact with me. She doesn’t say anything. My stomach knots and twists and my legs feel heavy. I now see she also wears what appears to be two katana swords strapped to her back because of course the sexiest girl I know would also sport katana swords and use them to kill aliens.

  “Did you see my car?” Jeff gets out of the VW and marches to her. “Did you see Miss America?”

  “No.” She grits her teeth and fights off what appears to be some spasm of pain. “No car.”

  “Where were they?” Mom asks.

  “I watched two guys slip behind one of the game tents and try to attack a girl. I took them on and they ran off.”

  “The attacks have grown more and more frequent. They must be breaching the portal,” Randi says.

  Dad starts pacing and nods at Grandor. “And getting their hands on those DNA Morphers Lurch over there was talking about.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “Corporate says they can track when a portal threat is coming. They have sensors or something. If the Herpezoids are getting through the portal, wouldn’t they know it?”

  “Humans. Such an inferior intellect.”

  Once again, the sound of Grandor the Malevolent speaking pulls our focus. He stands outside the minivan with a look of boredom. He clearly can’t be bothered anymore with this nonsense.

  “Someone is helping them from this side,” he coaches. “Someone uses the portal from this side to get them through. I have done it many times on other planets. It is how I infiltrate.”

  Jeff pulls a Gulliball from his pocket, presses the button and rolls it over to Grandor.

  “Dude,” he says to Grandor. “I need help understanding what you’re trying –”

  Grandor interrupts him. “Your behavioral weapons will not work on me. I have so completely taken over this physical body that the brain is essentially an extension of me. Merely another machine. That was the plan with the Araneae. Take complete control of the host mind to do my bidding. GrandEarth simply would not operate without the compliant, easily manipulated workforce possessed by artificial intelligence.”

  “God, you’re an asshole,” Jeff says.

  “You say someone on this side is helping the Herpezoids come through?” Randi asks. “Is this someone helping them adopt human form, too?”

  “That would make sense. I know it is what I would do. Of course, I am not, but, it is totally what I would do if it were me. Which it is not.” His eyes dart back and forth.

  “But only Corporate has access to the portal, right?” I ask. I look at Jeff, setting off a chain reaction of glances back and forth between all the members of our band.

  “Only Corporate,” Jeff says. Then, in unison, we state the obvious once more.

  “Only Corporate.”

  “Sounds like we need to go into the office in the morning,” Randi says.

  Marlene cries out in pain again, clutching her stomach and grabbing my arm.

  “What did those bastards do to you?” I am already plotting my revenge on the Herpezoid swine who hurt my Marlene.

  “Who?”

  “The Herpezoids. Did they hurt you?”

  “They barely got a hand on me,” Marlene huffs, insulted by my question. “I think I got some bad food at the River Luau.”

  “What did you eat?”

  “Not much. Three turkey legs, four funnel cakes, and a deep fried mashed potato covered Twinkie.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The night passed into the morning. We decided we needed at least some rest before tackling this mess. Randi texted Max to let him know we needed to meet. We arrived at 8 a.m. because Max said this required us to “synergistically expedite dynamic mindsharing.”

  Max Gentry now sits across from us and scans his tablet as if reading some important report. He works a lollipop in his mouth. I sit between Randi and Jeff, fidgeting while Randi exudes poise. Her hands are clasped and resting on the table and she watches Max and his tablet. Jeff is to my left, leaned back in his chair and feet propped up on the table. His top hat is cocked to one side. We are once again in the Rings of Saturn room. The same flat screen television hangs on the wall at one end and the same white board hangs at the other end. There is no amazing fruit tray, no THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME! gift bag. I glance at the motivational lithograph I saw the last time I was here. The tiny sailboat being tossed on stormy waves as ominous clouds loom overhead. I lock on the word COURAGE in bold, strong font and read again the caption underneath.

  We can no longer wait for the storm to pass; we must be courageous enough to sail through it.

  It speaks to me. I can relate. I am the tiny sailboat traversing the giant waves a
nd looming clouds of my life. I’m still not motivated, though. This is some scary shit I’d rather not deal with.

  “Listen, copper,” Jeff blares in some kind of weird old gangster movie voice. “You can’t keep us here, see? You got nothin’ on us.”

  “I’ll deal with you in a minute. Feet off the table, please.” Max puts the tablet down, places the sucker in its wrapper. “Randi, help me understand. Your data points suggest an internal employee, a mole if you will, is allowing not only Herpezoids to access our world through the portal, but also aiding them in taking human form? Am I understanding your report correctly?”

  “Yes.” Randi leans forward and talks with her hands. “We also believe the alien form known as Jackie –”

  “Jackleigh,” I interrupt. Randi places a calming hand on my forearm to shush me.

  “The alien form known as Jackie is partnering with the Herpezoids. She has kidnapped Simon Tybalt and demands the plans for the quintonium drive in return.”

  “So, if I’m hearing you correctly, our founder, Simon Tybalt, a man thought dead, is alive?” Max Gentry taps and swipes on the tablet. He furrows his brow the way one does when they’re trying to figure out something. “That is a compelling development.”

  Max returns to his lollipop.

  “We gotta get my car back, man,” Jeff says. “Like, now.”

  Max points his lollipop at Jeff and eyes him through it like a sight on a pistol. “You stole proprietary information and willingly turned that information over to an unauthorized alien being. That is unacceptable.”

  “What are you gonna do?” Jeff mocks. “Put me on a performance improvement plan?”

  Max Gentry huffs and stands. He paces the room on his side of the table as he speaks. “The criticality of this imperative has reached uniquely hyper scale levels. You have all in some way orchestrated mission critical deliverables which threaten to synergistically undermine our ROI.”

  “Agreed,” I say. “Absolutely.”

  “Max,” Randi says. “We need to know who the mole is and we need the plans to the quintonium drive.”