E.G.A.D

Earth Guard Alien Defense

David Marshall

Big Whirl Books/First Edition/May 2021

Copyright © 2021 by David Marshall

www.davidmarshallbooks.com

All Rights Reserved by the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the works of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, is coincidental, except for certain historical characters.

ISBN 9798506149972

This book is dedicated to my beautiful wife, Tiffani, and our son Carter. Thank you for putting up with me and loving me. You give me the strength to do what I do, which is… well, mainly putter around on the computer, make up my little stories, and write and record music. I love you both dearly.

I want to also acknowledge my parents, who brought me into this world kicking and screaming. If I’m half the parent the two of you were, then I can one day rest knowing I’ve poured every ounce of myself into the love of my life.  And of course, my huge extended family; my brothers, my sister, nieces, nephews, greats, cousins, in-laws, and outlaws. There are a lot of us, but we love well.

And lastly, I’d like to thank my teachers at the former Coeburn High School, in my little hometown of Coeburn, Virginia, for their dedication to generations of children like me. From Margaret Bright, who fostered my love of reading at a very early age, to Karen Peters, Linda Jessee, and Joy Rudder, a trio who challenged me to think and question (and put up with the laziest student in the history of education), to Ben Spradlin and Lockwood Hall, who taught me so much about this big world we live in. Every one of you holds a special place in my heart forever.

As they say, “An eye for an eye….”

    Prologue

T he silent black triangle drifted across the full moon’s buttery glow and cast a menacing silhouette against the brilliant disk. The craft slowed to a standstill above the churning Atlantic high tide and hovered like a ghost over its grave.

The stealthy craft still clung to the horizon when it was first spotted by star-gazing lovers and night fishers enjoying the simple pleasures of the Flagler Beach pier.

Diners inside the Funky Pelican were the next to spot the oddity. Those fortunate enough to sit by the windows pressed their faces to the glass for a better look. Others abandoned their late dinners and filed out the door to join the curious spectators gathered on the pier.

Townspeople and vacationing tourists alike braked their cars in the middle of the two-lane road that knifed through the heart of one of Florida’s last hidden gems. Some abandoned their vehicles and craned their necks skyward. It seemed every finger in town pointed to the astonishing display offshore.

Startled onlookers questioned the mysterious craft’s origins. Was it Earthly or alien? Perhaps it was one of ours? Or maybe those damned Russians?

The excitement was interrupted by the glissando bursts of a police siren. The mournful wail rose to a haunting crescendo before its rising pitch plummeted like a diver sinking beneath the dark waves. As soon as the final gasps of sound expired in the siren’s throat, it launched its Doppler aria anew. The repeated warning blasts did little to curb the gathering crowd’s curiosity.

At first, the officers seemed less concerned with the excitement in the air than they were with the traffic cork in the middle of town. But soon, they too were hypnotized by the eerie sight and stole more than one uneasy glance over their shoulders, even as they urged rubberneckers to move along. 

No one seemed to notice the mysterious craft creeping ever nearer to the shore until three F-35 fighter jets scrambled onto the scene from the south. They huddled in a tight flying wing formation.

The lead jet unleashed twin AIM-9X Sidewinder missiles from its wingtip pylons. Nearly two hundred pounds of heavy-duty ordnance raced along at Mach-2 toward the mysterious intruder. The missiles exploded against what seemed to be an invisible shield protecting the unknown object.

The explosions jerked the onlookers from their mesmerized gazes and sent them scurrying from the suddenly tangible danger.

The planes in the rear broke formation and buzzed the intruder. One jet darted toward the shoreline while the other sped toward the horizon. Both planes banked steeply and turned for a run at the ominous craft.

A beam of light shot from the triangle’s underbelly and blew the jet on the horizon out of the sky. A spectacular fireball accompanied the explosion. The craft plunged to a dark reward in the cold, Atlantic deep.

The jet nearest the shore unleashed a single missile, but the triangle shrugged it off like a pesky insect. It returned fire and blasted the fighter jet.

The explosion rocked the shore so hard the pier teetered and pitched. A lucky few escaped the buckling structure before it collapsed like a house of cards and plummeted into the angry surf below. The blast also blew out the restaurant windows and showered those cowering inside with shards of glass and debris.

The pilot fought the wounded plane hard, but the crippled jet crashed onto the beach and tumbled tail-over-nose toward Ocean Shore Boulevard before it broke apart. The nose section and part of the fuselage exploded on a sand dune and scattered burning jet fuel in every direction. The tail section skidded across the road and crashed into a realtor’s office.

The indiscriminate inferno engulfed the downtown area and ravaged the heart of the tourist district. Firetrucks, blocked by the heavy traffic, raced up the sidewalks and got as close as the flames would allow.

The lead plane banked a hard turn and scampered back toward its home at Patrick Air Force Base, south of Cocoa Beach. The triangle blasted it from the sky as well. Nearly a hundred million dollars of taxpayer money came to a violent rest in front of an elementary school about four miles inland.  The fiery fuselage exploded in a spectacular flash and set the school aflame.

Frantic sirens pierced the once-lazy summer air, their cries foreshadowing a battle in the coming days for Earth’s very survival.

The black triangle settled above the leafy tendrils of the summer treetops and headed northwest. For the few that heard it, the craft emitted only a barely-perceptible soft hum. 

Chapter One

W ho actually reads this garbage?” laughed the girl in the checkout lane behind Eddie. She gawked at the magazine rack by the bubble gum display. Though obviously thrown together for a midnight munchies run at the big-box, twenty-four-hour retailer, she was still a knockout.

An unkempt tangle of chestnut locks framed a soft, feminine face with ocean blue eyes and thin lips. The lack of makeup exposed a patch of sun-kissed sienna freckles that painted the bridge of her button nose and spilled onto her high cheekbones.

Her pink pajamas were salted with tiny white hearts and poured over the tops of her feet, revealing the chipped polish of her once-red toes. A “Purple Rain” tour shirt brushed the knees of her pajamas. She completed her ensemble with neon green flip-flops. She smelled of chlorine and tanning lotion, a sure sign she spent the day in and around her hotel’s pool.

Eddie removed a cantaloupe from his shopping basket. He placed it on the conveyor belt with his eclectic spattering of groceries. “Excuse me?”

The girl removed the current issue of the EGAD! tabloid from the impulse rack near the front of the checkout lane. Her nose wrinkled. “What kind of idiot takes this shit seriously? Black triangle spotted at alien lunar base! Putin is from Alpha Centauri! A race of reptile cave-dwellers found near the center of the earth!”

Eddie pointed to the smaller print beneath one of the stories. “You know that one has to be true. They even tell you where the lunar base is located.”

The girl flipped the tabloid around to read the print under the headline. “Gardner Crater? Is that even a real place on the moon?”

Eddie chuckled. “Hell, if I know. Everybody needs to believe in something, I guess.”

The girl’s full-throated snort caught him off-guard. She was too pretty to be a snorter. “But have you ever seen anyone actually buy a copy?”

“Would you want people to know you read it?” the cashier asked as she whisked Eddie’s groceries across the scanner. “I’ve worked this register for twelve years and can’t remember the last time somebody bought one. We keep a copy in the lounge, though. Manager enjoys the crossword.”

Eddie snatched the rag from the wire rack and plopped it onto the conveyor belt. “Sold! I can’t live without the truth!” he said, echoing the hyperbole of the tabloid’s melodramatic tagline.

The pretty girl covered her mouth. “Oh no, you didn’t! You’ve got to be shitting me!”

Eddie snickered. “Why not? I could use a good laugh after the week I’ve had.”

“Rough one, huh?” the girl asked.

Eddie nodded. “Something like that.” It wasn’t as terrible as he made it sound, but any night he left work without a tourist on his arm qualified as a personal tragedy.

“Forty-one sixty,” the cashier announced with a coarse, grinding-metal tone. She pulled a bag loose from a spinning carousel that held hundreds of plastic sacks and stashed his goods into it.

“You can’t be serious?” Eddie asked. “It’s not even ten items!”

The cashier lifted the tabloid from a plastic bag and held it high enough to display the logo. “You get what you pay for, sir.”

Eddie removed his wallet from his back pocket and took out his debit card. “Can I get cash back?”

“Sorry, sir, the card reader is down,” the cashier replied.

The card reader’s tiny gray screen flashed, “Network Unavailable. Try Again Later.”  

Eddie combed through his wallet for something green. The only thing more embarrassing than discovering he was short on cash was doing so in front of a pretty girl waiting in the checkout line behind him. “I’m sorry. I never carry cash. Maybe if I took my stuff to another register?”

The cashier shook her head. “It’s the network sugar, the marvels of modern technology and all that.”

Eddie sighed and pushed his empty wallet into the left hip pocket of his jeans. “Sorry to waste your time.” He hoped to slink away quietly.

“Put it with mine,” the pretty girl offered.

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

The girl placed a box of corn-puff cereal on the belt. “You didn’t ask. I offered and won’t take no for an answer.” She pointed to the tabloid in his bag. “Besides, who am I to deny you intellectual stimulation?” 

The cashier rolled her eyes and reached Eddie’s bags to him. “Have a good night, sir.”

Her forced pleasantry, peppered with a generous dash of judgment, was as convincing as one might expect from a night cashier working for minimum wage. She dragged the girl’s cereal over the scanner. It beeped, and the display removed thirty cents because the brand was on sale.

Eddie chatted with the girl while the cashier scanned her groceries. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I didn’t get your name.”

The girl held out her hand. “Priscilla.”

“Well, Priscilla, you should wear a cape on your back,” Eddie laughed as he shook her fingertips. “You’re my hero.”

Priscilla raised a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Keep it quiet, okay? Alter egos are a pain in the ass once they’re blown.”

The cashier scanned the last of Priscilla’s items. “Seventy-one sixty-two.”

“I’m sorry,” said Eddie. “Most of that total is mine. Let me put my stuff back.”

Priscilla shook her head. “Absolutely not! A hero needs someone to rescue.”

Eddie motioned for her to continue.

“Thank you,” said Priscilla.  She paid with a one-hundred-dollar bill.

The cashier didn’t look pleased to receive such a large bill at the late hour but completed the transaction anyway. She returned Priscilla’s change to her.  

Priscilla dumped the money into her purse. 

“I feel like such a deadbeat,” said Eddie. “I have money. I do work.”

Priscilla slapped Eddie’s arm. “It’s no big deal. It was worth it to see somebody buy that rag! Maybe that could be their next headline! “Man buys a copy of EGAD!”

Eddie blushed. “I should have put it back. I only bought it to be a smart-ass, and it made my groceries more expensive. Well, technically, you bought it.”

Stop beating yourself up,” Priscilla laughed. “I wanted you to have it.”

“Why?” Eddie asked.

A broad, toothy smile spread across Priscilla’s face. “How else would I pick you up?”

“Pick me up?” Eddie asked. Perhaps his night would turn out better than he imagined. “Then you have to let me take you to dinner tomorrow night. I insist.”

Priscilla laughed. “With what, Moneybags? I just bought your groceries.”

Eddie ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair, a nervous habit he hated. He still wasn’t sure what Priscilla meant by “picking him up.” Was she looking for a one-night stand or an all-week sucker to spend money on her while she enjoyed the Smokies? Dinner was one thing, but he wasn’t about to break the bank for some nookie even if she was prettier than the girls he usually bedded. “So, what now?”

“You tell me,” Priscilla replied.

Sober girls were harder to read, and Priscilla was sharp-witted.

“Well?” Priscilla asked.

Eddie may not have known what she had in mind, but he knew what he wanted. “We can stop by my place and throw your cold stuff in the fridge.”

Priscilla shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t go home with strangers.”

As usual, Eddie’s good fortune stumbled headfirst into a brick wall. “Oh. I didn’t mean to….”

“I meant tell me your name,” Priscilla giggled, nudging Eddie’s shoulder. “Unless you prefer me to call you Moneybags.”

“I’m Eddie. Am I bad at this or what?” His cheeks burned. “It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t a total lie. It had been a while since he last flirted with a sober girl. 

“Rule number one,” said Priscilla, snaking her right index finger through the handles of her plastic bag and holding it up, “Never tell a girl it’s been a while.”

“Should I leave a mint on your pillows?” the cashier asked. She eyed the automatic doors at the front of the store.

Eddie thumbed over his shoulder at the annoyed cashier. “I think she wants us to leave.”

“Your place far from here?” Priscilla asked.

Eddie shook his head. “It’s at the end of the Parkway. Are you a local or visiting?”

Priscilla snatched a small, stuffed black bear from the circular wire bin by the door. It wore a blue shirt with “I Heart Great Smoky Mountains” emblazoned in red letters across the front. She made it dance along the top of the wire bin and tossed it back into the pile of stuffed animals. “Tourist. Can’t you tell?”

“Cool,” Eddie replied. “Where do you hang your hat when you’re not rescuing penniless bums from the scourge of starvation?”

Priscilla admired the cheap sunglasses by the front door. She tried on a pair but returned them to the spinner rack after checking her reflection in the attached mirror. “Our nation’s capital.”

“Then you know a little something about tourists too, huh?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla nodded. “Enough to know they should avoid locals prowling for a one-night stand.”

“Hey! You picked me up!” Eddie exclaimed. “Remember?”

Priscilla grinned as they walked through the foyer to the parking lot. She gestured in the general direction of the spattering of cars parked near the front of the store. “That I did. So, which of these fine chariots is yours, or did you walk?”

Eddie pointed to a beat-up Chevy Caprice parked in the accessible parking space. Swatches of bare metal peeked through peeling copper paint on the hood and right quarter-panel. The mismatched driver-side front door was burgundy. “I drove.”

“And parked in the accessible space?” Priscilla asked, her eyebrows raised.

Eddie shrugged. “Come on; it’s after midnight! The entire parking lot is one big handicapped space!”

Priscilla followed Eddie to his car and tossed her bags into the back seat. “Is this piece of shit safe?”

“Define safe,” Eddie answered.

“Safe as in road-worthy,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie opened Priscilla’s door, and she slid into the ripped, split-bench seat. Bits of yellow, crusty foam poked through the torn vinyl. “Allow me to point out the difference between roadworthy and safe. Marge here…”

“You named your car Marge?” Priscilla asked. She kicked a discarded nacho tray from underneath her feet. Old, moldy cheese smeared into the carpet. What was one more stain?

Eddie nodded and shut Priscilla’s door. He crossed in front of the car and slid into the driver’s side. His door slammed shut with a satisfying, solid thud. “Short for Margaret, but she hates it when I’m formal. As I was saying, Marge is roadworthy as they come. However, I can’t guarantee you won’t become hopelessly lost in her clutter. She’s a messy girl with a lot of baggage under her tires, if you know what I mean. Safe? She’s a travel-at-your-own-risk kind of girl.”

Priscilla nodded along as if digesting every word. “Right… And you had nothing to do with creating this pigsty? Good deflection, though. Do you have commitment phobia too?”

Eddie plunged the key into Marge’s ignition and turned the switch. The engine coughed to life. “I regret the flavors I don’t choose when I buy ice cream if that’s what you’re asking.”

Priscilla rolled her eyes.

The car creaked from its space and chugged across the parking lot with a loud sputter and a pronounced knock. Marge’s lament was her way of telling Eddie the motor mount boot was bad. He wished he bought some duct tape before he left the store. Marge sputtered to the light, and Eddie turned right on red without stopping.

Priscilla pointed to the light behind them. “That light was….”

Eddie shrugged. “A suggestion at this time of night.” 

“All this charm and commitment phobia too?” Priscilla added. She lifted her right flip-flop onto the dash and wiped nacho cheese from her big toe. “What do you do for a living, Eddie? If you don’t mind me asking.”

And there it was, the reason Eddie stuck to one-night stands with drunken tourists. Over the years, he came to call it the “moment of flight.” He took a deep breath. “I’m an Elvis tribute artist.”

Priscilla snorted. “An Elvis impersonator? Really?”

“Elvis tribute artist,” Eddie corrected. “Or ETA for short. I suppose you want to run now?”

Priscilla shook her head. “I can’t. The car’s moving.”

“Never had it put that bluntly before,” Eddie answered. “Where are you staying? I’ll drop you off.”

“I thought we were going to your place?” Priscilla asked.

Eddie cast a suspicious glance her way. “Seriously? You still want to go back to my place?”

Priscilla shrugged. “Sure! Why not? I’m not looking for a lifetime commitment. We’ll have some fun and go our separate ways. Get it? Separate ways?” She flashed her best Elvis lip-curl when she said it the second time. 

Eddie laughed. “At least you have a sense of humor about it. Which reminds me, did I mention I live at a campground?”

“You did not,” Priscilla replied, obviously delighted by the new revelation. “Oh my god, are you trying not to get laid? Because that’s what I keep hearing! I do not want to get laid! Please don’t make me take off my clothes and have sex with the pretty lady!”

Eddie wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew. Priscilla was a handful. “You are most definitely not hearing that!”

“Good,” Priscilla replied. “I really need to unwind.”

The Parkway was a ghost town at one-thirty in the morning. Its cornucopia of attractions and shops shuttered earlier in the night. Families fled Dollywood and the Putt-Putt golf courses for the air-conditioned refuge of their hotel rooms and campers. As usual, the stoplight at Teaster Lane caught Eddie. The town was so peaceful he heard the light buzzing while he waited. It finally changed, and he drove through Pigeon Forge. He hit his blinker and whipped into the left-hand turn lane when he reached the Pancake House. He crossed the road and guided Marge into the campground he called home. “So, Priscilla, what do you do for a living since you analyzed the tragedy that is my life?”

“I can’t say,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie pulled into his parking space and killed Marge’s engine. “Oh no, you don’t get to do that! You gave up that right when you gave me hell about my job!”

“I just…” Priscilla shook her head.

“Are you a stripper or something?” Eddie asked. “Because that’s not a deal-breaker!”

Priscilla rolled her eyes. “Lovely, but no! I’m not a stripper.”

“Come on,” Eddie pleaded. “I showed you mine; you show me yours.”

Priscilla sighed. “I wish I could say, but I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“Sworn to secrecy?” Eddie asked. He exited the car and circled behind Marge to open Priscilla’s door. “Oh, I get it!  Are you a spy or something?”

“Nothing like that,” Priscilla squeaked. “Just a lowly secretary, but it’s sensitive stuff. Can we go in?”

Eddie shrugged and pulled the car door open. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

Priscilla exited the vehicle, and Eddie shut the door behind her. He didn’t need her life story to have sex with a girl he’d never see again. Eddie grabbed her groceries from the back seat along with his own and escorted her to his front door. He reached for the keys in his front pocket, but the bags were in the way. “A little help? Key’s in my right pocket.”

Priscilla dug in Eddie’s pocket. “I hope this isn’t your idea of foreplay.” She retrieved the keys and admired the keychain. The letters “TCB” were emblazoned on its face in cubic zirconium. “Cute. What does this mean?”

“Taking care of business,” Eddie answered. “Elvis’ personal motto. I adopted it.”

“How original,” Priscilla replied. She placed the key into the lock and pulled the door latch toward her, but it didn’t budge. 

“Give it a good yank,” Eddie instructed. “It gets stuck sometimes.”

“This just keeps getting better,” Priscilla replied. She jerked the door open. The aluminum screen door separated from its magnetic latch and banged against the front door. A dog barked somewhere in the campground.                

“Keep it down out there!” someone yelled.  “People are trying to sleep! Jesus!”

Eddie leaned against the door to hold it open, which was a terrible idea since the camper steps were too small for them both.

“I’ll hold the door for you this time,” said Priscilla, descending the steps. “But you get chivalry points for trying.”

“What can I say, ma’am?” Eddie asked, falling into his best Elvis voice as he entered his home. “A king knows how to treat a lady.”

“Rule number two,” Priscilla replied as she stepped into the tiny camper and pulled the door shut. “The creepy Elvis voice guarantees you will not get laid! So much so that this important rule bears repeating. The creepy Elvis voice will get you the opposite of laid even if you were the spitting image of him!”

Eddie laid their groceries on the counter and fumbled for the light switch. The lights flickered on. “It’s not much, but it’s home. What do you think?”

“Not exactly Graceland,” Priscilla replied with a wry smile. “But I can live without peacocks in stained glass. So tell me, Eddie, are you going to put those groceries away and get me naked, or are you going to….”

Eddie pulled Priscilla into his arms and kissed her hard. Her lips parted to make way for his tongue. The groceries would wait until after round one; ice cream be damned! As he pushed Priscilla onto the small bed that served double duty as his kitchen table, the opening lyrics of an old Elvis song ran through his head.

“It was a night….”

Chapter Two

T he rattle of dishes jerked Eddie awake. Priscilla moved about his camper’s tiny kitchen in a lavender bra and boy-shorts panties. She poured a bowl of the cereal she bought the night before and helped herself to the last of the milk in the refrigerator. With the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, she fed her face and browsed the Knoxville News Sentinel.

Eddie didn’t subscribe to the paper, so he had no idea whose copy she commandeered or when she went outside to get it. A tattoo peeked over the waistband of her underwear.

“Nice ink,” said Eddie.

Priscilla turned to him. She was gorgeous even with her cheeks stuffed full of Corn Puffio’s and a major case of bedhead. “That’s all you have to say after a night of wild sex? You make fun of my tattoo?”

“Who said I was making fun of it?” Eddie replied. “I can’t even really see it.”

Priscilla nudged down her waistband and unveiled the mysterious ink in all its glory.

“An alien?” Eddie asked. The creature’s large, gray head tapered toward a sharp, narrow chin. Black, almond-shaped eyes glared from deep, hollow sockets while two tiny slits above its taut mouth passed for a nose. “I would have guessed Tinkerbell or something, but that works too.”

“I was nineteen and drunk at the beach,” Priscilla replied. “I’m lucky it’s even presentable.”

“Damn right you are,” Eddie laughed. “Alcohol and tattoos are a bad combination.” He leaned back into his pillow and folded his hands behind his head. “Big plans for the day?”

“I’ll probably just head back to my hotel and hit the pool,” Priscilla replied. “Work on the tan a little. You?”

“Just going to hang around here a bit, then run a few errands,” Eddie replied. “I have a soundcheck at three.”

Priscilla finished the last of her cereal and placed the bowl in the sink. “Want me to wash it?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ll get it later. Need a lift back to your hotel?”

Priscilla scooped her t-shirt from the floor and slid it on.  “You’re cute until you open your mouth. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“I’m sure as hell not doing a three-mile walk of shame,” Priscilla replied. She retrieved an elastic binder from her purse and corralled her hair in a hasty ponytail. “You bet your ass you’re driving me!”

Eddie moved to his small closet and found a change of clothes. He also grabbed a clean towel and threw it across his shoulder. “Then I need to grab a quick shower myself. You’ll be okay here?”

Priscilla’s lips tightened into a pout.

“What’s that for?” Eddie asked.

“What’s wrong with the shower at my hotel?” Priscilla asked. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer a cinder block bathhouse where you can’t remove your flip-flops?”

Eddie played along. “One of those fancy hotel showers with the massaging heads?”

Priscilla’s right eyebrow raised.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I could change my routine just this once,” Eddie replied. What was wrong with him? He didn’t drive girls back to their hotels. That’s what ride-share services were for, and he was happy to pay. Playing taxi opened the door for trouble. The last time, he found a very angry and rightfully jealous mountain of a man waiting on the other side of the door. He did his next show absent a front tooth. He was fortunate he was the cash cow at the Time Machine because Hank paid for the dental work. 

Priscilla threw her arms around Eddie’s neck. She stood on her tippy-toes and gave him a good morning kiss.

Your breath smells like milk,” Eddie chuckled.

“And yours smells like pussy,” Priscilla shot back. “A very happy one at that! And by the way, rule number three….”

Eddie cut her off with another kiss. “Enough with the rules already.” He pulled away and threw his shirt on. “Let’s finish this at your hotel room.”

They dressed, and Eddie snatched Priscilla’s groceries from his refrigerator. “Can’t forget these!”

“Leave the butter here,” Priscilla replied.

“How come?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla smiled. “So I’ll have a reason to come back.”

“Why do you buy butter when you stay in a hotel?” Eddie asked.

“I like butter,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie shrugged. “Who doesn’t like a little butter on their biscuits or pancakes but….”

Priscilla shook her head. “Not just “on” things. I eat it by itself.”

“That’s…weird,” Eddie answered, pruning his face at the thought of it. “And disgusting!”

Priscilla stepped out of the camper and made her way to the car. “We all have quirks. Some people eat butter; others dress up and play Elvis.”

“And some have sex with people who get paid to dress up and play Elvis,” Eddie added

“Nice comeback,” Priscilla replied. “You made yourself sound like a fetish escort.”

Eddie sighed.

Priscilla seemed pleased she got under his skin so easily.

Eddie opened the passenger door and tossed Priscilla’s groceries in the floorboard behind her seat. She unraveled the twisted seatbelt and fastened it.

The summer sun was already hot, and a morning shower left the air sticky. Pigeon Forge was sometimes miserable for a town in the foothills of the mountains. Eddie wiped the sweat from his brow and circled the car. He opened his door and climbed behind the wheel. “Which hotel?”

“Mountain Rest Lodge and Resort,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie knew the Parkway well. The Mountain Rest was one of the newer places with all the modern amenities. “Look at Ms. Big Shot!”

“It’s nice-ish,” Priscilla answered. “Clean rooms, no bed bugs, air conditioning, and hot water. The bed’s comfortable too. That’s about all you can ask for.”

“That and a mini-fridge to keep your butter in,” Eddie teased.

“You know it,” said Priscilla. “But I left mine at your place. Damn! Now I’ll have to go back and get it!”

The Parkway was bumper-to-bumper, with most of the cars headed to Dollywood. Eddie wasn’t in a rush for once, so the traffic didn’t trigger his road rage. “Traffic will clear after the Dollywood exit.”

Priscilla laughed. “You call this traffic? Try 66 into D.C. during rush hour, and then get back to me.”

They soon pulled into the Mountain Rest parking lot, and Eddie nudged Marge into a parking space by a side entrance. Priscilla fumbled through her purse and grabbed her plastic room key. An advertisement for a local pizza joint graced the front of the card. “This place looks yummy.”

“Oldest trick in the book around these parts,” Eddie answered. “You can make anything look appealing with a great photographer. Their pizza is an inedible, greasy mess.”

“Greasy pizza is the best,” Priscilla countered. She pointed to the side entrance near the car. “We’ll use this entrance. My room is three doors down.”

Eddie exited the car and circled it to open Priscilla’s door. It stuck, so he pulled a little harder than usual. It finally relented with a metal-on-metal “pop” he never heard before. “After you, my lady.”

Priscilla rolled her eyes. “One night of sex, and I’m your lady? High hopes there, Moneybags.”

“It’s an expression,” said Eddie.

Priscilla dropped the room key into the card reader by the door. It clicked loudly, and the light on the lock mechanism changed from red to green. Eddie pushed the door latch with his free hand and held the door open. Priscilla entered the hotel hallway, and he followed close behind. The trek to her room was indeed a short one. She paused for a moment and swiped her key. The door clicked, and she pushed it open. “Home sweet home!”

Eddie followed Priscilla into the room, and the door closed behind them with an ominous thud. The room was darker than he expected. The vinyl blackout shade kept the morning sun at bay. Only a thin sliver of Smokey Mountain morning illuminated the floor beneath the windowsill. He fumbled for a light switch. “It’s darker than a bat’s cave in here!”

“I like it dark,” Priscilla replied. “I can sleep later.”

“And cold too obviously,” Eddie added, referencing the icy air. “Jesus! I could see my breath if the lights were on. Did the A.C. run at full blast all night?

“Probably,” Priscilla replied. “Unless it turns off automatically.”

Eddie looked forward to hopping beneath the blankets with Priscilla and warming up with another round of raunchy sex. “Where are the lights?”

Priscilla pushed past him. “Let me get them!”

Something about Priscilla’s terse reply knotted Eddie’s stomach.

The lights flickered on, and Priscilla stood at the door with two large men wearing matching black suits. Their tank-turret arms folded across their chests. The message was clear; Eddie was going nowhere. “Priscilla? What the hell?”

Did Priscilla use sex to lure him to her room to rob him? Stories circulated of hotel sirens that used their feminine wiles on unsuspecting men and robbed them blind. He hoped Priscilla and her cronies would dump his body somewhere nice, maybe off a well-worn trail where some unsuspecting hiker would chance upon him. At least then, he would receive a proper burial. But deep down, he doubted it. There were too many good places in the Smokies to dump a body.

A third gentleman sat at a small writing desk at the back of the room. More salt than pepper dotted his well-groomed hair. He cleared his throat and flipped open a laptop.

Priscilla moved to the older gentleman’s side. “The assignment is complete.”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time,” said Eddie. “What the hell?”  He dropped Priscilla’s grocery bags to the floor and retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He tossed it onto the bed. “No one has to get hurt here. Take it and let me go. You can even keep the groceries.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you considering they’re mine, and I paid for them,” Priscilla chuckled. “Relax, Moneybags. No one wants your raggedy-ass empty wallet. All the leather shops in this town, and you still tote that sad thing around?”

The wallet was a gift, the only Christmas present Eddie received while growing up that was given to him personally. The rest were generic gifts from Angel Trees. “You’re not robbing me?”              

Priscilla sat on the bed and tossed the wallet to Eddie. “If I were a robber, do you think I’d target a broke-ass, two-bit Elvis impersonator?”

Eddie wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or relieved. He caught the wallet and stuffed it into his hip pocket. “Tribute artist,” he corrected. “What is this?”

The gentleman at the desk finally looked up. “I’ll be frank, Mr. King. We need you.”

“You need me?” Eddie asked, looking to Priscilla. “I thought she needed me.”

The man cracked his knuckles. “Agent Day needs whomever I say she needs. Her methods are efficient, and you obviously found them captivating, no?”

Eddie moved toward the door. “You people are nuts! I want no part of whatever this is!”

The two large men at the door puffed up and made themselves impossibly larger and more imposing.  

“Gentlemen, I’m going to ask you just once to move out of my way!” Eddie warned. “I won’t be responsible for what happens after that.”

“That’s a terrible idea, Eddie!” said Priscilla. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Eddie balled up his fists. “I’ve been in a scrap or two in my day! I can take care of myself!”

The man seated at the desk pecked away at his keyboard, undaunted by the events unfolding around him. “Let’s do this the quick and easy way, shall we, Mr. King? Agent four-one-zero-three, please step forward and fold your hands behind your back.”

The large man on the left did as instructed.

“Mr. King, please punch my agent in the abdomen as hard as you wish,” said the smug man.

Eddie arched an eyebrow. “You… want me to punch him?”

Salt-and-Pepper typed away and didn’t glance up. “Yes, and don’t hold back. As hard as you can, I insist!”

“And you’re okay with this?” Eddie asked the goon.

The man said nothing. 

“He doesn’t have permission to speak,” said Priscilla. “But it’s fine. He won’t strike back unless instructed to do so.”

Eddie clenched his right hand into a fist and visualized it as a wrecking ball and not a paltry lump of flesh and bone. It was likely the only blow he’d strike, so he unloaded a haymaker to the man’s breadbasket with all his might. His fingers crunched against the man’s stomach. “Son of a….”

The man stepped back and folded his arms across his chest once more. 

“Agent four-one-zero-three is an elite specialist, Mr. King. Outside of force with a deadly weapon, it would be impossible for you to harm him,” Salt-and-Pepper explained. “On the other hand, he is intimately acquainted with at least thirty-seven different methods to kill you with nothing more than a sheet of paper. As you can see, if we intended to harm you, you would be dead already.”

Priscilla retrieved her groceries from the floor and flung them onto the counter. She rummaged through them and retrieved a box of sandwich bags. She took one from the package and filled it with ice from the tray in the mini-fridge’s tiny freezer. “This will feel good on your hand.”

Eddie abandoned his pride and buried his knuckles into the welcome chill. “For the love of God, will someone please tell me why I’m here?”

The man behind the desk stopped typing and finally looked up. “You are here, Mr. King, because I suspect you desired another sexual tryst with Agent Day.”

Eddie’s frustration continued. “Is it a crime to think with my junk? Why all this trouble to bring me here?”

The man smiled. “I am Director Colton Rogers. You already know Agent Day. And since she didn’t return last night, I assume you’re acquainted in the Biblical sense.”

“Agents? So, you’re like the F.B.I.?” Eddie asked.

Rogers and Priscilla shared a tense gaze before he relented with a nod. 

Priscilla sat on the bed and directed Eddie to sit next to her. “The F.B.I. has no idea our organization exists, Eddie.”

Eddie sat and hoped one of the “agents” would start making sense. “Let me get this straight. The F.B.I. doesn’t know about your exclusive little club, but you’re telling me? Secret handshakes, decoder rings, and all? You obviously have the wrong guy. I should go.”

Priscilla grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him back down to the bed.

Rogers flashed the same smug grin he wore since the lights first turned on. “You aren’t going anywhere, Mr. King, until you’ve heard me out. Coffee?”

The door behind the two hulking brutes may as well have been a million miles away. “Since I have no choice in the matter….”

“Coffee?” Rogers asked again. He was persistent, like a child picking at a scab.

Eddie shook his head. “No coffee, just answers. I thought Priscilla and I were coming back here for, you know, sex. And now you guys are holding me against my will, which is illegal. So, for the love of God….”

Priscilla brought Rogers his coffee. He nursed the cup like a proper man, sipping the hot liquid. “The world needs you, Mr. King.”

“Me?” Eddie asked. “That’s some sense of humor you have there, Mr. Rogers.”

“Director Rogers,” the man replied. “Mister” Rogers hosted a children’s television show. He was a terrific human being. I met him once.”

Eddie stared at the popcorn ceiling and searched for answers. “Who the hell are you people, the Men in Black?” 

Priscilla returned to the edge of the bed. “The Men in Black? Jesus, Eddie.”

“If someone doesn’t level with me, I’m going to leave this room on my own, or your goon squad can beat the life out of me, and you can carry me out in a body bag. I don’t care which at this point. Either way, I’m free of you guys!” Eddie said.

Rogers exchanged another nervous glance with Priscilla.

“We are EGAD,” Priscilla began.

“EGAD?” Eddie asked. “That stupid tabloid? So that shit you said about the tabloid last night…. And you gave me hell about my job?”

“We are far more than a supermarket tabloid, Mr. King,” Rogers explained. “EGAD is an acronym for Earth Guard Alien Defense. We are a top-secret, extra-governmental organization dedicated to defending the planet from alien threats. Our organization and its mission are known to but a handful around the world. Need to know only.”

“Why tell me your secret then?” Eddie asked. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Rogers tucked his laptop into a leather bag on the floor. “Do you hear me laughing, Mr. King?”

“Trust me, he doesn’t laugh,” Priscilla added. “Ever.”

Rogers looked hurt. “Then you haven’t watched the Three Stooges with me.”

“Okay, rarely laughs,” Priscilla conceded. “Whatever.”

“But why a dumb tabloid?” Eddie asked. “With today’s technology?”

“Digital technology is easy prey for advanced civilizations that are light years ahead of us,” Rogers explained. “Our greatest technological advances are children’s toys to them. However, the printed word is beneath their notice. Thus, we communicate via 16th-century technology. We even use old-fashioned typewriters and presses. It’s the perfect front for a clandestine organization, no?”

Eddie’s face wrinkled. “Let me get this straight. You’re a top-secret agency, and you communicate through the grocery store check-out lanes?”

Rogers nodded. “That’s the gist of it. Hide in plain sight. Effective, no?”

“So, all those crazy stories you print in the tabloid are true?” Eddie asked.

“Not everything,” Priscilla replied. “We make up the celebrity gossip to mess with them. Jennifer Aniston is on her seventy-third pregnancy since Friends went off the air. Even some of the more fantastic stories are nonsense. We train our agents to know which stories are real.”

“Putin isn’t from Alpha Centauri?” Eddie laughed.

“That one is true,” said Rogers. “He hails from a race of beings that hates wearing shirts when they pose for selfies.”

Eddie looked to Priscilla. “Is he joking?”

Priscilla nodded. “He never jokes about Putin. Ever.”

Eddie dug his fingers into the blankets and bunched them around his knuckles. “Assuming you’re telling the truth, it still begs the question; what do you want with me?”

“Are you familiar with the term “Starseed,” Mr. King?” Rogers asked.

Eddie was familiar with both stars and seeds but hadn’t heard the terms used together “I can’t say I am, no.”

“Not surprising,” Rogers answered. “Civilians in the know are typically on the fringes of paranormal activity and New Age ideology.”

Priscilla took Eddie’s hand. “Starseeds are alien beings that bond with a human host to advance social change or introduce revolutionary ideology into the human saga. Their goal is to drive humanity forward to one day take our place among the galactic community. Starseeds grant the host amazing powers to accomplish their goals.”

Eddie jumped up and formed the letter “T’ with his hands. “Time! Freaking! Out! Are you guys batshit crazy?”

Rogers took a sip of coffee. “Are we moving too fast for you, Mr. King?”

“Mister, I’m still pissing my pants from when Priscilla turned on the lights, and I found we weren’t alone! What do these Starseeds have to do with me?”

Rogers removed his glasses. He pointed to the ring on Eddie’s finger. “That ring…”

Eddie made a fist and admired his favorite piece of jewelry. “What about it?”

“Tell me about it,” Rogers asked. “What does it mean?”

Eddie was tired of the games. “T.C.B., it stands for Taking Care of Business.”

“It’s an Elvis thing,” Priscilla added. “He has a keychain with it too.”

“And you have an alien on your ass,” Eddie replied. “Who are you to judge?”

Priscilla looked away from Rogers’s burrowing glare.

Eddie showed off his ring. The King used the letters as a logo on many of his personal items and designed the ring himself. The letter “C” was nestled between the “T” and “B” and rested atop a lightning bolt. Elvis’s ring featured the symbol encrusted in diamonds. Eddie’s was cubic zirconium, a replica Hank found in a gift shop in Gatlinburg. Eddie couldn’t have been more thrilled with the gift if the jewels were real. He received compliments on it all the time from fans. 

Rogers rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And just what is this business interest of which you are the caretaker, Mr. King? Libertine dalliances with drunken tourists?”

Eddie gestured over his shoulder to Rogers. “An arrogant prick when he wants to be.”

Priscilla chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Rogers looked away in wistful introspection. “I can see how it comes off that way, but I prefer to think of myself as witty and charming.”

“Skip the semantics and tell me what the hell is going on,” Eddie demanded.

Rogers settled into his chair. “You know what just occurred to me about this business of yours, Mr. King?”

Eddie shook his head. “Enlighten me.”

“It seems your business of promiscuity pays poorly. You eke out a meager day-to-day existence pretending to be someone you’re not. The question is why you do it. Is it because it strokes your ego’s overwhelming desire for attention? Or is it because it feeds your appetite for drunken tourists willing to overlook your sad occupation and go to bed with you? And where does one obtain a business license to launch such a venture?” Rogers asked.

Eddie flashed his middle finger. “Screw you!”

Rogers removed his bifocal glasses. “Did I offend? I thought we were trading barbs. You called me arrogant; I called you a loser. Now we’re supposed to bond over a big laugh.”

Eddie balled up his fists and stood.

 “Eddie, don’t,” Priscilla pleaded.

“So his goons tear me to shreds? At least I get a few good swings at this arrogant S.O.B before they take me down,” Eddie replied.

Priscilla grabbed Eddie by the arm and yanked him to the bed once more. She pointed to the agents by the door. “You’d do better fighting those two at the same time. Add a few more just like them for good measure.”

The rage drained from Eddie’s fists as he weighed the consequences of trying to wipe the smug grin from the older man’s face. Priscilla’s warning didn’t mesh with Rogers’ bean-counter appearance. “You can’t be serious! This guy?”

“Trust me,” Priscilla assured. “Rogers is one of the deadliest human beings on the planet.”

Rogers beamed the same pompous grin Eddie learned quickly to despise. “She flatters an old man. I’m a lightweight compared to Agent Day, but we’ll give it a go if you like. I’ll make it a fair fight and employ only the boxing techniques I taught Holyfield when he defeated Tyson.”  

Eddie entertained the idea of testing Rogers but decided his limbs belonged where God placed them. “I don’t know what to believe at this point. If you say he’s part Bruce Lee and part Batman, who am I to argue? Am I in some kind of trouble?”

Rogers shook his head. “You’re not in trouble, Mr. King.”

“Then why am I here and be straight with me for once,” Eddie pleaded.

Rogers leaned forward in his chair. “Do you ever wonder about your past, Mr. King? Ever since you came into this world kicking and screaming, an underweight child of a single, heroin-addicted mother, you’ve done nothing but….”

“Don’t talk about my mother,” Eddie warned. “I don’t care what kind of bad-ass you are! I will find some way to kill you!”

Priscilla looked mortified. “Eddie, please don’t.”

Rogers crossed his arms and smiled. “Those may be the first honorable words I’ve heard you utter, Mr. King! Perhaps there is more to you than the unimpressive dossier I’ve collected on you over the years!”

“You have a dossier… on me?” Eddie gulped.

Rogers nodded. “Oh yes! Quite the blogger you are too! I’m honestly surprised someone so well-versed in Elvis conspiracy theories has never heard of the Starseed.”

“If someone doesn’t tell me something right now, I’m gone,” said Eddie.

“Elvis was a Starseed,” Priscilla blurted.

Rogers rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on! I was working up to it.” 

“I was afraid the next geological age would pass before you did,” Priscilla replied. “Time is a luxury we can’t afford.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he heard Priscilla correctly. “Did you just say Elvis was an alien?”

Rogers shook his head. “No, she commented on the speed at which the revelation was shared. I prefer the big setup. Far more drama than….”

“No, before that,” Eddie interrupted. “She said Elvis was an alien.”

Priscilla shook her head. “No, I said he hosted a Starseed.”

Eddie weighed the revelation. He heard many conspiracies over the years, but the story spun by Rogers was as far out as any he encountered. One detail still bothered him. “For the last time, what does all this have to do with me? I’m just a tribute artist hoping to one day make it to Vegas.”

“It’s simple, Mr. King,” Rogers replied. “You host the same Starseed that Elvis Presley once hosted, and we need you to save the world!”

Chapter Three

E ddie wasn’t sure he heard Rogers correctly. “Come again? Did you say there’s an alien living inside me, and you need me to save the world?”

Rogers nodded. “Good, you’re up to speed.”

The thought of sharing his body with the common cold gave Eddie the willies. Subletting it to an alien entity was both unacceptable and preposterous. He was the master of his destiny, the paver of his life’s path, the North Star of his grand journey. And sure, he made an utter mess of his fate most of the time. Still, he wasn’t about to relinquish the responsibilities to a two-bit, other-worldly spirit guide. Perhaps it was all a gag. There was no other reasonable explanation.

Eddie sprang from the thick mattress and made a beeline to the closet doors, a set of full-length mirrored bi-fold slabs, and pulled the faux-crystal handles toward him. The doors whisked open quietly along their track. Eddie brushed aside Priscilla’s belongings and knocked on the wall behind them.

“Hey! Get out of my closet! There is nothing in there but my things!” Priscilla shouted. She shot from the bed and pulled Eddie back from his windmill jousting. “What the hell, dude?”

Eddie still wasn’t convinced. He returned to the closet and dropped to his knees. Surely there was a concealed recording device somewhere. “This is one of those elaborate hidden camera pranks, isn’t it? You’re going to put this on WeTube or something!”

Priscilla sat on the floor next to Eddie while he rummaged through the closet. “It’s not a prank, Eddie. We need you to pull yourself together and channel your inner Elvis.”

“Do you know how insane that sounds?” Eddie asked, poking his head out of the closet.

Priscilla grabbed Eddie’s hand and guided him back to the bed. She pulled him down next to her with far more strength than a woman her size should possess. “Yes, I know how it sounds to someone on the outside. I started with the organization when I was nineteen. Even now, there are times when it floors me. It’s overwhelming to learn we’re not alone in the universe. But things will be much clearer once you’ve experienced your awakening.”

“My awakening?” Eddie shrieked. “Because that doesn’t sound terrifying at all! Is this thing going to take over my body? That’s just… no! I’m not an alien!”

Priscilla placed an arm around Eddie and squeezed. “We know you’re not an alien, Eddie, but an extraordinary human. You host a Starseed, specifically the same one Elvis Presley hosted when he was alive. It’s one of the most powerful entities in the known universe.”

“Oh good,” Eddie replied. “I’m not an alien, just possessed.”

Priscilla stroked Eddie’s right hand. “Not possessed, chosen.”

“Cursed is more like it.” Eddie pulled away from Priscilla’s embrace and turned to the goon squad. They stared straight ahead with unnerving gazes and showed no interest in his plight. Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected from them, but at least they weren’t Priscilla or Rogers. Priscilla reached for him again, but he brushed aside her attempt to comfort him. What if she and Rogers were right?  What if he did host an alien entity that once shared a body with Elvis? Was it responsible for his profound connection with the King? Did the passion that drove him to become a tribute artist come from within, or were other forces responsible? More importantly, where did that leave him? Who was Eddie King, if not a tribute artist? “So why did this thing choose me?”

Priscilla cupped his face and coaxed his attention back to her. “I don’t know.”

“The Starseed do not select their hosts by random chance, Mr. King,” Rogers added. “It is a great honor to be chosen.”

“Chosen for what exactly?” Eddie asked. He was so put off by the thought of sharing his body with the alien that he never thought to question its expectations.

Rogers tapped his pen against the desk. The rhythmic pounding evoked the thunder of war drums and foreshadowed the Director’s chilling reply. “A war is coming, Mr. King.”

“A war?” Eddie asked. 

“With the Gray,” Rogers replied. “Their activities have escalated tenfold in the past eighteen months. We’ve spotted their ships in the skies from the desert southwest in the United States to the Amazon jungle in South America. They’ve even been so bold as to fly their craft over several European cities in broad daylight. They’re scouting us, Mr. King. An invasion force is imminent in the near future.”

Eddie was skeptical, particularly about his role in the affair, but didn’t want the world overran with little gray men, green men, or otherwise inhumanly colored beings. “Surely our governments will band together and stop them!”

“Our governments can’t solve hunger in the poorest regions of the world,” Priscilla replied. “How are they supposed to unite against an extra-terrestrial foe?”

“Good point,” Eddie conceded. “But I’m not a soldier, and I’m terrible at following orders!”

Rogers propped his elbows on his writing desk. “You haven’t been chosen to follow orders, Mr. King. You’re to lead us in the coming war.”

Eddie waived off the suggestion. “Oh no! You definitely have the wrong guy, mister! You need to warn the Army or something! I’m no military genius!”

“I don’t assume you’re a genius at all, military or otherwise, Mr. King,” Rogers chuckled. “To be honest, I have no idea why the Starseed chose you. And yet it did, so here we are.”

Eddie bowed his head. “Then it chose poorly.”

Rogers retrieved a file from the briefcase beside him on the floor. “On the surface, I’m inclined to agree, Mr. King. You’re a boorish womanizer. You drink excessively. And you suffer from gross immaturity and a self-loathing that would make even the best shrinks cringe. Any of those shortcomings alone should unequivocally disqualify you from the role of humanity’s savior.”

The smug Director shuffled through the papers in Eddie’s file. “In my hand are your underachieving academic records, your employment history - such that it is, and at least three copies of every legal document you’ve ever signed. Six arrests on minor offenses, and you spent a night in jail on three of those charges. You never pay your bills on time, if at all. And I wasn’t aware a credit score could dangle so low. There is nothing in your record that inspires my confidence in the Starseed’s choice.” 

“Maybe we can convince it to move on to someone else?” Eddie asked.

“I doubt it,” Priscilla replied. “There was a specific reason the Starseed chose you.”

“But I’m not good at anything that doesn’t involve a rhinestone jumpsuit,” Eddie replied.

Priscilla’s puckish smile evoked memories of their previous night together. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

Eddie’s chest swelled like a barnyard rooster.

Rogers cleared his throat and returned the file to his briefcase. “Agent Day’s disturbing admission of carnal guilt touches on a peculiar paradox. It seems you do possess a prodigious talent for promiscuity, Mr. King. How does one with so little to offer entice so many women into his bed?”

Finally, a question Eddie was qualified to answer. “The magic combination of alcohol and low self-esteem.”

“Neither of which was true in my case,” Priscilla was quick to add. “Just for the record.”

Rogers glowered at Priscilla. “Agent Day’s reputation notwithstanding, do you speak of the women you bed or yourself, Mr. King?”

Priscilla averted her eyes.

Eddie shrugged. “A little bit of both, I suppose. I never claimed to be a saint.”

“Indeed,” Rogers replied. He dug a long, metallic, two-pronged Y-shaped device from his briefcase. “This Aura Detector was designed by one of our top scientists to detect the unique energy signature emitted by a Starseed. May I?”

“Will it hurt?” Eddie asked. The grisly device was the stuff of science-fiction nightmares.

Rogers held up the device and grinned. He pointed its devil’s horns at Eddie. “It won’t hurt me.”

Eddie poked his right thumb into his chest. “What about me?”

Rogers pointed to a light on the device’s handle. “The device is equipped with an overload sensor which glows green to warn of imminent danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Eddie stammered.

Rogers pinched together the index finger and thumb of his right hand to indicate a small unit of measurement. “There’s a very slight chance your brain’s electromagnetic activity will trigger a feedback loop if you don’t host the Starseed.”

“And if that happens?” Eddie asked.

Rogers dropped the device to his side. “Your head will explode, but the probability of that happening is infinitesimally small.”

“What?” Eddie shrieked. He pointed to his noggin. “No way! It may not be much, but this is the only noodle I have! If you think for one minute that I’ll let you blow it up like a watermelon….”

Rogers looked past Eddie to the goons at the door. “They always go with the watermelon analogy.”

The nameless hulks held their tongues like statues.

“Shall we begin?” Rogers asked, raising the device again.

Eddie pulled back. “No, we most certainly will not!”

“Relax, Mr. King,” said Rogers. “I’ve performed this scan hundreds of times, and not once has the overload sensor engaged. It’s merely a redundant safety feature.”

Running wasn’t an option. But if the scan proved Eddie didn’t host the Starseed, perhaps the EGAD nutjobs would release him. Assuming he lived through the procedure. Eddie inched forward and prayed he wouldn’t blow up. “I’m only doing this to prove I don’t have this thing inside me.”

“And if it is present?” Rogers asked. “What then?”

Eddie shrugged. “We find an exorcist or something.”

“Come on,” Rogers implored. “Don’t lose your head.”

“Very funny,” Eddie replied. He lifted his arms and held them out at his sides.

“You can relax your arms, Mr. King,” said Rogers. “We’re not here to arrest you, and this isn’t airport security.”

Eddie dropped his arms. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.”

Rogers nodded. “I understand, but you want to be sure, correct?”

Eddie sighed. “Let’s just get this over with! Assuming my head doesn’t splatter, what will that thing do if it detects the Starseed?”

Rogers pointed to a small screen on the device’s face. “If the Starseed is present, the device will indicate two distinct lines of consciousness. If you are merely human, it will show only one. Pretty simple, actually. Ready?”

Eddie nodded for Rogers to proceed. The Aura Detector inched toward his face. The scan began at the crown of Eddie’s head. Rogers lowered the device slowly. It made no noise. The procedure was as painless as Rogers promised. Small favors. Once the device passed eye level, Eddie’s focus narrowed on the overload sensor. All went well until it flashed bright green.

“Mr. King, duck!” Rogers yelled.

Eddie dropped to the floor and covered his head. He was thankful it was still there. “I’m alive?”

Rogers dropped the device to his side and enjoyed a hearty laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked as he stood to his feet.

Priscilla sighed. “The so-called “overload protector” is nothing more than the power indicator light. Remember when I said he doesn’t laugh? The Aura Detector gag is another exception. He loves to scare people with that tired bit.”

“The fucking power button?” Eddie asked. “You scared the hell out of me, you sick, sadistic bastard!”

Rogers composed himself. “I’m sorry, but you should have seen your face!”

“We know who to put in charge of Earth’s psychological warfare unit!” said Eddie. “Are we going to do this or not? Assuming the device is what you say it is.”

Rogers composed himself and scanned Eddie for real. The device hummed for a few seconds then beeped loudly. Rogers checked the screen and turned it to show Eddie the results. “Two lines, Mr. King! No doubt about it, you’re a host, and the scan confirms it is definitely the Elvis Starseed.”

Eddie wasn’t thrilled about sharing his body with an alien entity, but at least it was the same one Elvis hosted. He fancied himself a kindred spirit to the King; the girls, the parties, the entourage, the rock and roll lifestyle, and more importantly, the thrill of the stage. But where did Eddie end and the alien begin?

Priscilla squeezed Eddie gently. “Are you okay?”

Eddie shrugged. “I’m a little numb right now.”

“I understand,” said Priscilla. “It’s a lot to process. Take all the time you need.”

“You have five minutes,” said Rogers.

Eddie must have wasted the first four minutes of his allotted time staring in disbelief at the Director. “Five minutes? She said I could take all the time I need!”

“We can’t stay in the open like this for too long,” Rogers explained. “They’ll find us.”

“Who will find us?” Eddie asked.

“The Gray,” Priscilla replied. “They’re the invaders we spoke of a few minutes ago. Remember my tattoo? That’s a Gray.”

Eddie buried his face in his hands. “Those creepy little bastards with the big heads are real?”

Rogers nodded. “They hail from the Zeta Reticulum system and are as vicious as they are real. We need to go now.”

Eddie waved his arms in protest. “Okay, you guys have had your fun! I’m done with your insanity! Screw your Gray, your Starseed, and your damned tabloid too! I’ll see you at the next sci-fi convention! I have to get back to the real world.”

Rogers shook his head. “You would run off and play Elvis rather than save mankind?”

“I have things to do and a job,” Eddie replied. “I’m already running late, considering I have to make it up the Parkway for half my stops. So, if you’ll excuse me….”

The goons blocked Eddie’s escape. He turned to Rogers. “Call off Heckle and Jeckle?”

Rogers dismissed the imposing muscle-men with a gesture. They parted like the Red Sea, and Eddie finally reached the door.

“Eddie!” Priscilla shouted. “Let me come with you! I’m sure if you let me explain….”

“Hell, no! I’m doing my best to get as far away from you people as possible! That includes you! Last night was great, but no piece of ass is worth all this! Sorry darlin’, but I’m over it!”

Eddie flung open the door and made a show of slamming it shut, but the pressurized hinges spoiled his dramatic departure. He raced down the hallway and shot through the exit door to the parking lot. Once outside, he ran to Marge and plopped into the seat behind her steering wheel. His shaky hands slid the key into the ignition and turned it.

Marge found it in her heart to coax all 390 horsepower of her Turbo-Jet 454 to life with a welcome roar despite him water-boarding the carburetor. Her tires barked when she screeched out of the parking space. Eddie’s beat-up heap barely missed the front of a brand-new Corvette someone backed into the parking space behind him. The brake job Marge received two weeks prior spared the shiny, red sports car any damage. Eddie jerked the steering wheel hard and raced from the parking lot toward the Parkway. Marge shot into the heavy traffic in front of a Toyota minivan and settled behind a black El Camino.

Chapter Four

E ddie cleared two lights before traffic backed up and trapped him off the rear bumper of a young couple in a beat-up Chevy Silverado with expired Missouri tags. The back glass announced that Tina and Ray-Ray were newlyweds.

Tina was a bleached blonde with shoulder-length hair, pretty-ish but not really Eddie’s type. A mint-green tank top clung tightly to her sweat-glistened body. Her thick, bare feet rested on the dash and showed off an ankle tattoo, a hot-air balloon featuring the gold and black of the Missouri Tigers.

Her husband Ray-Ray was a snub-nosed farm boy with stocky, muscular arms, the kind hard-earned in the soybean and cornfields and not in a weight room. A light-brown mullet cascaded from beneath his ball cap and spilled onto his naked back like a greasy, polluted waterfall. Cheap sunglasses kept his eyes hidden.

The light turned green, and Eddie inched beside the Silverado. The couple remained oblivious to his occasional peeks. Ordinarily, his wandering eye meant he was checking out some girl in traffic but not this time. He focused on the graffiti scribbled all over the couple’s truck in white shoe polish. Marriage was a human institution to which he was usually averse, but for once, he welcomed it. 

Tina caught Eddie looking. A short, stubby finger alerted her new husband to his interest. The jealous country boy assumed Eddie was ogling his wife and shot him the bird.

Eddie readied his own middle finger, but his eyes shot past the angry man-child and zeroed in on his wife’s tattoo. The hot-air balloon was gone, replaced by the cold, empty face of a Gray alien, like the one on Priscilla’s butt. Eddie gasped and rubbed his eyes while the throwback from the left side of the evolutionary scale shouted obscenities at him.

Ray-Ray honked his horn and hung out the window. He beat the door of his truck to make sure he had Eddie’s attention. “Hey, asshole!”

Eddie finally had enough. He lowered the front passenger window and leaned across the car.

Ray-Ray insulted Eddie’s lineage, his manhood, and even Marge, which was truly a step too far. 

“Give it a rest, dude! I’m just trying to get to the arcade!” Eddie lied. The left turn lane two lights ahead was his actual destination, but he hit his right blinker. If a white lie would diffuse the situation, then it was worth it. He was in no hurry despite what he told Rogers. The last thing he wanted was to fight, particularly a sturdy farm boy ten or fifteen years his junior. He didn’t want to give the couple the satisfaction of one day telling their grandkids how Grandpa Ray-Ray kicked some guy’s ass on their honeymoon.

“Bullshit!!” Ray-Ray yelled. “I saw you checking out my wife!”

Whether she grew tired of the game or didn’t want her honeymoon interrupted by a trip to jail, Tina pulled her angry puer aeternus back into the truck cabin. She leaned across the vehicle and shouted for Eddie’s benefit. “Just let the perv over, Ray! At least he won’t be staring at me anymore!”

The light changed, and Ray-Ray waited while Eddie squeezed Marge in front of the black Silverado. Those snagged in the bumper-to-bumper traffic behind them honked in protest. Eddie threw his hand up to “thank” Ray-Ray for letting him into traffic and hoped the drama was behind him.

Eddie whipped Marge into the parking lot of one of the Parkway’s many arcade and go-kart tracks to sell his fib. He had no intention of actually going inside but pulled into a parking space. He hoped traffic would move along, and he could rejoin it once the newlyweds were out of sight.

It was a good plan, but the Parkway’s infamous gridlock ruined it. The procession of impatient vehicles didn’t budge when the light changed. The newlyweds eyed Eddie intently. Knowing there would be trouble if he didn’t go inside, he left Marge behind to fend for herself in the hot sun and ventured to the entrance door.

“Hey, asshole!” Tina yelled.

Eddie paused at the arcade’s colorful entrance, and she flipped him the bird. He resisted the urge to exchange pleasantries. The encounter with EGAD left him too shaken to worry about such mundane nonsense anyway. He slipped into the arcade to avoid the drama altogether. It had been a while since he visited one.

The room burst with bells, whistles, and explosions. Vacationing families emptied fat wallets to purchase tokens for the loud, colorful games inside and the go-karts and bumper boats outside. Video games thrilled the kids, and games of skill enticed the older generation.

A cascade of sad, descending notes announced the end of a young girl’s video game adventure. A middle-aged man pumped two tokens into an arm-wrestling game. He locked hands with a masked, mechanical foe whose fiberglass torso was built into the upright console. The man readied his elbow on the stained, white foam pad and waited. A bell sounded, and the mechanical wonder forced the man’s arm down with ease. The masked cur laughed at the soft, inadequate vacationer and questioned his manhood. A young couple took turns at Skee-ball, alternately bowling the ball and gathering the tickets they won.

The smell of buttered popcorn filled the air as a freckle-faced mountain girl behind the sales counter emptied a fresh batch of buttered goodness from the popper into white paper bags.  The freshly-popped, fluffy kernels made Eddie’s stomach growl.

Two young boys cut in front of him and jostled and shoved one another to feed the dollar bill changer.

“Excuse me,” chimed a woman’s harried voice. She squeezed past Eddie and chased her raucous offspring.  “Boys, right?” 

Eddie didn’t mind, especially since she was pretty.

The woman dug a twenty-dollar bill from her purse and smiled at Eddie. “I’m sorry, they’re just excited! I swear I raised them better.”

Eddie returned the smile. “No problem. I was a kid once too.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look a little like Elvis?” the woman asked, brushing her hand through her shoulder-length, sandy-blonde hair.

Ordinarily, Eddie enjoyed a comparison to the King. He wasn’t quite a ringer, so it was nice whenever someone noticed a resemblance. But that was before he learned he shared his body with the same alien Elvis once hosted. “Thank you, but I don’t think so.”

“Well, I do,” the lady replied. “And that’s definitely not a bad thing.” She was a tad too tall for Eddie’s taste, skinny in most of the right places, and a few rolls in the wrong ones. The kids were probably to blame for the latter shortcoming. Eddie particularly liked her turned-up button nose and pink, pouty lips.

“Thanks,” said Eddie. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The mom’s cheeks flushed. “It was intended as one. What are you doing later? Maybe we could…” She rolled her eyes at the sound of her boys fighting behind her. “Damn it! What are they into now? I’m sorry.  It was nice meeting you….”

“Eddie.”

“Nice meeting you, Eddie!” the woman called as she chased her kids. She was the kind of woman Eddie usually bedded down after a show. They shamelessly flirted with him from their seats in the audience. A sufficient amount of booze stirred their post-performance courage. It wasn’t the souvenir t-shirt they were after; they prized a good vacation story. At that point, the hookup was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Wedding bands were easy to overlook, but kids in tow were an immediate deal-breaker. But for some reason, Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off the pretty mom. Her interactions with her boys comforted him. Their concern was the number of tokens in their possession and how many were required to play the flashiest games. She looked after their safety and well-being. Eddie admired that she put her children before a possible fling with him. She was a good mom.

Eddie lapped the arcade and observed the tourists in their element. Many of them saved all year for the opportunity to spend a week making memories among the Smoky Mountains hot spots. Their delighted squeals and shared laughs reminded him why he loved his job so much. It would never make him rich but made him a part of something bigger, and sometimes that was enough.

Eddie caught up to the flirty mom and her children again on his second lap. The boys huddled around a Star Wars video console shaped like an X-Wing fighter and took turns bragging about which of them was better at it.

Eddie leaned against one of the rustic six-by-six beams that supported the roof and watched.

The older boy went first and lasted all of five minutes but wanted to go again. The younger brother wasn’t having it and tried to push him out of the seat. The pretty mom intervened and made her eldest relinquish the cockpit. The younger brother took his place at the controls; his ship was obliterated almost immediately. The scolded older son stood behind the console with his arms folded defiantly.

Another of his brother’s ships met its demise in the cold, cruel vacuum of digital space.

“See? That’s why I’m the one that should be doing this!” the older son shouted. “I’m the best pilot!”

The mom grabbed him by the shoulders. “We take turns in this family! Do you understand?”

The boy said nothing.

“I asked you a question, young man,” said the mom. “Do you understand?”

Steam boiled off the older brother’s ham-colored face, but his mother’s ire deflated his rebellious attitude. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

“Good,” the mom replied. “You could always help your brother.”

The older boy wasn’t thrilled to play co-pilot. But before long, boredom outpaced his anger, and he shouted advice to his brother about the pitfalls ahead.

The woman blew her hair out of her face and relished the small victory. She turned and noticed Eddie watching her. Her brown eyes begged rescue, but the brush of her hand through her hair and her coy smile divulged her true desire. 

Eddie enjoyed their game. He flirted back with a shrug and a smile, declaring at once his willingness to play Prince Charming and acknowledging the adult responsibilities that prevented that from happening. It still felt good. Life wasn’t about aliens and intergalactic wars. It was about getting laid and living the dream.

His dream.

Vegas.

The mother turned away and encouraged the older son’s assault on the Empire. He was elated to be back in the cockpit. She glanced over her shoulder to assure Eddie’s continued interest. He admired her ample backside and thanked God for spandex. Her tight, pink yoga shorts displayed a museum-quality, apple-shaped bottom. A few shaving scars did nothing to blemish her lean, muscular legs. It was easy to imagine the smooth gams wrapped around him. His loins stirred at the thought.

The woman seemed especially pleased with Eddie’s keen interest in her ass. She definitely knew her best feature! Her right knee slithered to rest on the game’s fiberglass seat next to her son. She leaned toward the colorful screen to warn him of an approaching enemy ship.

The spandex tightened on her firm bottom, leaving little to the imagination. The mom stole another glance over her shoulder to confirm the effectiveness of her not-so-subtle move. There was no doubt she knew what she was doing. Eddie’s eyes inched up her body, and spotted a shirt tag slinking out the back of her collar. Rather than a fashion company’s corporate logo, an alien’s face stared back at him. 

Eddie recoiled from the sight, knocking over a small wastebasket in his haste to escape the arcade. He stumbled through the building and rushed through the glass doors at the front.

Once outside, Eddie doubled over and rested his hands on his knees. Deep, staccato breaths exploded from his lungs. A blast of mountain air flooded his olfactory nerve with gas fumes from the nearby go-kart track. The high-pitched whine of their small engines snapped him from the stupor of his hallucination.

Eddie wobbled back to Marge like a drunken man and lurched himself behind the wheel. His hands found ten and two, and he rested his head between them. What the hell was wrong with him? He inserted the key and was thrilled when the engine roared to life without drama. He patted Marge’s steering wheel. “Good girl.”

Marge was soon on the Parkway again, and Eddie hoped the pretty mom’s feelings weren’t hurt. It was more likely she thought him some weirdo freak and was thankful she dodged a bullet. If so, she was right; he was a freak! One with an alien “thing” inside him! Eddie slammed his hands against the dash. “Get the hell out of my body!”

The outburst netted little more than a few odd stares from strangers in traffic.

Eddie inched through gridlock to the second stoplight and crossed to the opposite side of the road. Traffic was uncharacteristically light going toward Gatlinburg, so it didn’t take him long before reaching Valley Drive. He turned between Taco Bell and the First Baptist Church.

The world looked much different than it did the day before. Knowing hostile aliens were not only real but that they wanted to kill him marred the canvas of Eddie’s rock and roll ambitions with sinister brush strokes.

Eddie flipped on the radio and found the classic rock station from Knoxville. His fingers drummed along on the steering wheel to Blackfoot’s “Train, Train.” Music was his refuge, corn liquor for his soul. He whipped into a parking space at the post office and listened until the song faded. Even an impending alien invasion was no excuse to turn off a good tune before its time.

The commercial that followed featured some loud-mouthed car salesman droning on about the weekend’s big sales event. Eddie killed Marge’s engine to quell the racket. The sudden silence portended dread, like his mortal soul bit into a persimmon. “Damn it, why me?”

The walk to the post office was short, but each step felt more plodding than the last. It was like Eddie was waiting for… he wasn’t sure. He grew keenly aware of the rubber soles of his tennis shoes scraping against the veined, pitted concrete. When the rhythmic clatter got to be too much, he moved to the grass. Pedestrians weren’t supposed to walk there, but the soft sod didn’t poke at the alien lurking within.

For once, the post office wasn’t packed with tourists shipping gaudy purchases back home or waiting on a money transfer. Some of the locals waved or nodded. They didn’t really know him but recognized Eddie from the tourism brochures or billboards scattered around the county.

As the Time Capsule’s resident “Elvis,” Eddie was front and center on just about every advertisement released to the public. The dinner theater even ran video clips from one of his performances on a loop on their marquee, an oversized marvel of a high-definition monitor. It fulfilled his childhood dream of seeing his name in lights. Of course, Elvis’s name featured more prominently than his own, but “Eddie King is Elvis” was quite an accomplishment for one who worked in the tribute entertainment business.

The mail was all bills. Eddie tore open an urgent notice and chuckled to find a scathing letter from his credit card company’s legal team. In vainglorious, blabbering legalese, they threatened to sue him if he didn’t pay off his balance, the interest, and additional money for legal fees by the end of the month. Eddie clutched the letter to his chest and relished the all-too-human cruelty of greed. They wouldn’t threaten to sue him if he weren’t human, right? He vowed to frame the letter. 

Eddie returned to his car and tossed the mail onto the passenger side of the split-bench seat. A pretty young redhead caught his eye as she followed the sidewalk to the door. Probably college age, but what the hell? She was good-looking, and it wasn’t like he was going to proposition her. He just enjoyed the view. Her hips swung back and forth like a pendulum on a grandfather clock and gave way to long, milky-white freckled legs that probably wouldn’t tan if she laid in the sun for a week. Her long red locks swung against an emerald green tank top.

The pretty girl dropped a letter and bent down to pick it up. She caught Eddie staring and locked eyes with him while still bent over. Her lovely, freckled face gave way to that of a Gray alien!

“Shit!” said Eddie. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Chapter Five

E ddie peeled out of the post office parking lot. He needed a plan before he went mad. A move to Las Vegas might lose both EGAD and the aliens. Sin City was the dream anyway. Perhaps the day’s bizarre events were signs, the universe telling him it was time to spread his wings and fly.

Of course, that still left the Starseed rattling around inside him, and he wasn’t sure what to do about his uninvited guest. The same alien entity once inhabited the body of his idol, Elvis Presley. According to the EGAD agents, it was extremely powerful. Still, Eddie wasn’t keen on the idea of sharing his body with it.

What spooked him the most was Priscilla’s offhand comment about Eddie undergoing an awakening. Would the mysterious entity take over his body at some point? The thought scared the hell out of him. What if EGAD were the only ones who could help him? Such an organization might offer some expertise in dealing with the alien entity. Was it wise to lose them?

Could he lose them?

Questions sired more questions.

Eddie headed straight for his soundcheck at the Time Capsule. He arrived forty-five minutes earlier than usual and eased Marge into his assigned space behind the building. Personal parking was one of the few perks of his position beyond his modest salary. He exited the car and followed the sidewalk to the entrance. The establishment claimed the white limousine parked there was his personal ride.

In his three seasons at the Time Capsule, Eddie rode in it twice, once for the current advertising brochure’s photoshoot and the second time during an interview to impress the Knoxville News Sentinel. Other than the occasional car show or marketing event, it remained by the door.

Tourists paid five dollars to have their pictures taken, climbing out of it onto a red carpet that led beneath a matching canopy and into the club. It was a tacky business practice, but Eddie understood that it helped pay the bills and, more importantly, his salary.

The Time Capsule was no Dollywood main stage, but it filled a niche the putt-putt golf courses, the water slides, go-kart tracks, and hillbilly-themed attractions on the Parkway couldn’t; it freed tired adults from their screaming, bratty children and their demands for overpriced trinkets and attractions. There were no black bears or faux-Cherokee headdresses in sight.

The club was known for good music, a little nostalgia, and the coldest brews in town, all in the company of other adults. Though smoking was banned years before, the main room still reeked of nicotine trapped in smoke-and-beer-soiled carpets. It was dim and dingy, but the kitchen passed inspection, the electrical system was surprisingly up-to-date, and the sound system was as good as any in town.

The audience appreciated the proximity of the round dining tables to the stage because they felt like a part of the show. And in many ways, they were, as the performers fed off their energy. What the club lacked in flashiness, it atoned for with atmosphere and charming quirks.

With so many tribute artists contributing to the dinner show, it was sometimes difficult to secure a spot for soundcheck. Eddie hoped his early arrival would allow him to avoid the nervous energy of the less-seasoned performers. Their anxiousness manifested in complaints about every minute detail they imagined wrong; the room temperature, the sound system, the monitor mix. Their lack of professionalism left Eddie frustrated, and it was difficult to perform when he went onstage aggravated.

Old Hank was the glue that held the show together. He was an older man of color with short, white kinky hair that retained a defiant patch of his natural dark locks down the middle. Age left him stooped a bit when he stood but did nothing to narrow his broad shoulders or barrel chest. He worked sound and managed tourist traps from Sevierville to Gatlinburg for over thirty years.

Before moving to the area, Hank worked in various venues in Las Vegas and Reno. He even ran sound for the King himself once at the International Hotel when the regular sound man was ill. His was a seasoned wisdom in matters of life and stage. He never treated the tribute artists like anything but real people with real families to feed and understood the delicate dreams and fragile egos that were easily crushed with a single misspoken word.

“Well, hellfire and brimstone! Look who showed up early!” Hank beamed with a smile and open arms. “My boy! My boy!”

Eddie fell into Hank’s bear hug. “How’s it hanging, Old Man?”

Hank broke their embrace and pointed to one of the house speakers suspended from the ceiling on the left side of the room. “We blew a horn in number six last night. Paul is in Knoxville shopping for a replacement now.”

“How’s that going to affect the show?” Eddie asked.

Hank shrugged off the question. “I have the old Peavey mounted up there now in case he can’t find one. It can’t handle the peak wattage of the new ones, but it sounds fine. Can’t have the show ruined by shitty sound, now can we?”

“You could make a cow fart sound like an Italian opera,” Eddie shot back.

Ignoring the “No Smoking” placards displayed prominently on every table, Hank retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. A cheap, off-brand smoke went between his full lips, and he returned the pack to his shirt pocket. He flicked open the top of an old-fashioned Zippo lighter and cranked the metal ignition wheel. A small, controlled flame flickered to life and flooded the air with the unmistakable smell of lighter fluid.

Hank lowered the tobacco into the lighter’s glow and inhaled. The cigarette’s tip flashed bright red and quickly burned to a thin ashen ring. Satisfied with his effort, he removed his bad habit from his mouth and spat the loose tobacco from his lips. “Not much difference between a cow’s fart and opera if you ask me. The band’s been here for a while. Do you want me to get them on stage?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah… I guess we should.”

“What’s wrong, son? You looked troubled,” said Hank, putting away the lighter. “Let me guess; there’s a woman involved!”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, but the last thing Eddie wanted was to recount his encounter with Priscilla. “Oh hell no! A woman’s the last thing I need right now!”

Hank sat at one of the tables, pulled the metal lid from a tin candle holder toward him, and flipped it upside down to use the inside of the top as an ashtray. He rested his cigarette on its edge. “A man needs love, Eddie, even a free spirit like you. A good woman would do wonders for you.”

“Just thinking about my life,” Eddie replied. “That’s all.”

Hank flicked ashes into the lid. “Be careful. A little self-reflection can be a good thing, but too much can lead you down some mighty dark roads.”

“Yeah, it sure can,” Eddie replied.

“So, what’s eating your ass, kid?” Hank asked.

Eddie retrieved his guitar from its case by the stage and slung it over his neck. He struck an “E” chord and realized the first string was out of tune again. The club was always a little chilly and wreaked havoc on his tuning every night. “Do you ever feel like you don’t belong? Like you don’t know who you are?”

“There’s greatness in us all, Eddie, even you,” Hank chuckled. He hacked on cigarette smoke but finally caught his breath. “We just have to find it. Trust me; you’ll figure it out. You’ll feel better when the band starts playing.” 

If only his problems were so simple.

Hank slapped his hands together a few times. The thunderous claps scrambled the musicians to the stage. They grabbed their instruments and took their places.

Eddie climbed the steps at the edge of the stage and settled in behind the microphone. He nodded to the bandleader, a skinny, balding man named Kenny. His long, graying mullet slid further back on his head with each passing season. In his sixth year at the club, Kenny was one of the few performers with more tenure than Eddie. He tuned his guitar, then turned to the rest of the band, “Burning Love” in the key of G.”

The drummer counted the band in, and the stage exploded with sound. Kenny waived off the crisp start. “Sorry, this chill does a number on Wynonna.” Wynonna was his main guitar, a 1963 Fender Telecaster given to him by country legend Wynonna Judd years before when he was with her band. He tuned the vintage instrument again and nodded to everyone that he was ready.  The drummer counted them in again, and they tore into the song.

The intro was electric, and Eddie appreciated the band’s consistent talent and professionalism. They obviously loved their jobs, and Kenny did a great job making sure they gelled as a unit. Eddie sometimes wished he was invited to their “band only” events that Kenny organized, but he understood team-building and respected the boundary.

When it came time for Eddie to sing, he channeled his best inner-Elvis and grabbed the microphone with a swagger befitting the King. The lyrics poured from him in a way they never did before. The harder he pushed, the better the band played and vice-versa, taking one another to wondrous and unexplored musical heights.

Eddie let go of trying to be Elvis and poured his heart into the song. The tribute artist business was rewarding, but the boundaries between art and impersonation were well-defined. The audience required more than a convincing costume. The persona truly sold the illusion. It was easy to lose oneself in the process and become a tribute robot, with every word of banter, every movement on stage, and every “spontaneous” moment scripted, down to the inflection of the voice.

A light went on for Eddie during the song. It was okay to love the music for its own sake and let himself shine through. Wasn’t music about communication after all?

Kenny attacked a guitar solo patterned after James Burton’s playing but uniquely his own. Burton was the famed sideman who accompanied Elvis during his Vegas years. Eddie found himself playing air guitar next to Kenny as the bandleader ripped through the twangy solo. The bassist, an always-jolly mountain of a man named Big Mike, joined in on the fun, as did the four backup singers. The band was digging the vibe; even the brass section swayed their horns back and forth. The only one who seemed unsure of himself was a young rhythm guitarist named Matt. He didn’t miss a note, but the spontaneous artistic expression left him uncertain about how far he could push the envelope in the tightly controlled environment.

Onlookers began to gather; Hank, the wait staff, the ticket takers, other tribute performers arriving early, and their entourages.

Eddie stepped up to the mic when the solo ended and belted out the final refrain with more conviction and authority than he could remember. The band brought the song to a crescendo. They ended it with the brass section blasting away to the heavens along with the backup singers. The song became much more than a soundcheck. It was a moment of bliss, a declaration of the power of music!

Once the final refrain faded in the air, everyone gave them an enthusiastic ovation. Kenny placed Wynonna on a guitar stand and ran to Eddie. He lifted him into the air with a bear hug. “You keep that up, and you’ll have your own show soon, brother!”

Kenny called everyone brother.

Eddie pulled away from the hug, and Big Mike patted him on the back. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

When Eddie came off the stage, Hank greeted him with open arms and a million-dollar grin. “My boy! Long live the King! Where did that come from?”

Eddie was afraid to answer. Was he responsible for the performance, or was it the work of the Starseed?

“You look preoccupied,” said Hank. “You should be walking on air after that performance! What’s wrong, son? Want to finish that conversation?”

Hank was a wise man and a valued mentor. There were few people Eddie felt were squarely in his corner. Few knew about his past, the drunken lout of a father who left when he was three, or his mother, who passed from an overdose when he was six. Stability was tenuous after that. Eddie bounced in and out of foster homes until he was eighteen. He was an oddball and loner in school. Hank knew it all and embraced him like family.

Eddie wasn’t a sentimental sort, but Hank was the closest thing to a father he knew. He trusted Hank with his darkest secrets and fears, as well as his hopes and dreams. But EGAD and aliens?

“I…” Eddie sputtered. What was he supposed to say?  He had sex with a beautiful woman who works for a top-secret agency that tracks alien activity worldwide? Would Hank have him committed if he added the part about her kidnapping him and her boss holding him hostage most of the morning? What about the part where they told him he hosted an alien entity - the same one that possessed Elvis when he was alive? Or that they expected him to save the world?  “Just a rough night and morning. I’ll be fine.”

Hank nodded but looked unconvinced. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

Eddie nodded. “I know you are. Hey, Hank?”

“Yes, son?” Hank replied.

“Thanks, man,” said Eddie.

Hank nodded and made his way over to Larry Long, a wiry young guy whose clothes always seemed a size too big for him no matter how small he bought them. He also sported the thickest glasses Eddie had seen in his entire life! He was a perfect Buddy Holly and had the voice and energy to match.

After the show, Eddie changed into his regular clothes and signed a few autographs. More than one middle-aged woman offered to keep him company for the night. He politely declined their overtures with the one line that got him out of most potentially unpleasant trysts, “Sorry, I’m engaged.” One swore she wouldn’t tell his fiancée. To that, he added, “… to a man.”

Finally, the club cleared except for the wait staff, the cooks, the performers, and their entourages. As glamorous as the profession appeared to the audience, they never witnessed the after-show. Everyone had a job to do in tearing down the various sets and putting equipment away. Hank was anal about keeping the stage clean and ready for the next show. One thing he wouldn’t tolerate was a lazy performer who wouldn’t do his part in breaking down afterward.

In the three years Eddie had known him, Hank fired at least two Garth Brooks impersonators who preferred to slip out after their set to carouse with the ladies. The place was clean by ten-thirty, and the workers filed out one by one. Hank and the kitchen staff usually closed the club and locked it up.

Eddie found a stray microphone cable and coiled it around his left shoulder. He hummed along with the fading strains of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” over the house speakers. “I like that one, Hank. Did I ever tell you that?”             

“Great show tonight, Eddie,” Hank replied as he shut down the sound. “I don’t know what got into you between last night’s show and tonight’s, but I sure hope it sticks around.”

Eddie appreciated Hank taking the time to compliment his performance but the thought of repeating the previous twenty-four hours made him shiver. “Thank you very much,” Eddie replied, his voice slipping into character as the King of Rock and Roll.

Hank shook his head and smiled. “Boy, you don’t let it go, do you?”

Eddie laid the coiled cable on a table and flashed his TCB lightning bolt ring. “Not when I’m here, man. Not when I’m here.”

While Eddie and Hank made small talk, Larry Long shuffled toward the front door with his guitar case. His curly pompadour hairstyle was combed out in favor of a more modern style. “Hey, Eddie! Some of us are going to Gatlinburg for drinks. Want to join us?”

By drinks, the young Buddy Holly impersonator meant prowl for drunken women ready to hop in the sack with whatever horny bastard would keep her glass full. It was usually Eddie’s kind of fun, but not with Larry and his crew. Larry wasn’t a big guy, but he loved to fight and purposefully went after girlfriends and wives to start trouble. If bedding women was Eddie’s game, starting fights was Larry’s.  

“Not tonight, Big Dog!” Eddie replied. “I have a lot going on this weekend.”

“Your loss, dude,” Larry shot back as he pushed open the plush, red double doors at the club’s foyer.  “It’s a full moon tonight, and you know how the crazy bitches love to howl when the moon is full! Even an old bastard like you might get lucky if you bring your Viagra!”

“Have fun, asshole!” Eddie called.

The door closed behind Larry and his entourage.

“Hey, kid!” Eddie called after him.

Larry poked his head back into the Time Capsule. “Yeah?”

“Poke a tourist or two for me while you’re at it!” Eddie yelled. 

Larry’s ridiculously toothy grin spread across his long, horse face, and he disappeared into the night.

“It’s not every day you get asked to a night on the town by Buddy Holly,” Hank laughed. His ebony skin glistened with sweat beneath the house lights.

“Nor is it every day he gets turned down by Elvis,” Eddie replied.

Hank patted Eddie on the back and chuckled. “You got me there!” He sat at one of the tables. “What’s eating at you, Eddie? Most nights, you’re straining at the bit to get out of here and find a hookup. Remember last summer when you bedded down, what was it, sixty-four different ladies?”

Eddie smiled with pride. “Sixty-nine, just like Bryan Adams sang, “The Summer of ‘69”.

“And I’m sure there was some of that going on too,” Hank laughed, nudging Eddie with his elbow. His teeth were stained yellow from years of smoking but still his own. “What’s got you so low?”

“You’re not letting this go, huh?” Eddie sighed. He shrugged his shoulders. “Have you ever reached a fork in the road of life, Hank?”

Hank nodded. “Too many times to count. You stare down two roads wondering which will lead you to happiness and which will break your heart.”

“I’m thinking of heading out to Vegas,” said Eddie. He said nothing of EGAD or aliens.

Hank stroked the patch of cotton-white hair on his chin. “I see. I’d think carefully about it if I were you, son. Man to man, you’re a big fish in a small pond here. As good as you were tonight, you have to do it like that, or better, every night in Vegas. You can’t have off nights. Tonight was a huge step for you, but you need to do that consistently to have a shot out there.”

“You’re saying I’m not ready?” Eddie asked. He intended to lie to Hank about his reasons for leaving town but being told he wasn’t good enough to make it in Vegas stung. 

Hank extinguished his cigarette in the candle holder and shook his head. “You’re amazing when you’re on, Eddie. But you still have a flat night every now and then. And you’re not….”

“I’m not what?” Eddie asked. “A ringer?”

Ringers were the tribute artists who looked so much like the performers they emulated that one couldn’t tell the difference.

Hank nodded. “Yeah, and Vegas is full of them. Many clubs out there will take a ringer over a showman every time, especially with social media so big these days. The ringers look good in the selfies tourists post online. It’s not like here. We get parents who need a break from chasing the kids all day at Splash Country. They’re happy to suspend their disbelief as long as the brews are cold. They expect world-class entertainment every time you step on stage in the desert.”

“You really don’t think I’m good enough!” Eddie shot back. Aliens be damned! Hank was insulting his craft, the one thing that made him feel human. “Go ahead, Hank! Say it! I thought you were my friend!”

Hank sighed. “I didn’t say that, and I am your friend, you damned fool! I’m trying to do you a solid if you’ll have the good sense to listen! I said you lack the consistency at this point in your career to knock them dead every night, but it will come! A few more seasons and….”

“I don’t believe this!” said Eddie. “After all I’ve done for this shit hole, and you have the nerve to treat me like a second-rate talent? Who the hell do you think paid for the new stage curtain in this dilapidated joint? Or for that new speaker today? It sure as hell wasn’t Larry-fucking Long! They came to see me, Elvis! That’s what you’re worried about losing! I’m the cash cow!”

Hank’s face softened. “Look, Eddie. I’ll level with you. If you leave me flat-footed like this in the middle of the season, it’ll take all summer to find an acceptable replacement. We’ll lay out money for new brochures, and the new asshole may or may not be here for the Christmas season. But this isn’t about me. It’s about you. Every watering hole in Vegas has twenty tribute artists lined up, begging to do their act. You spend a few years washing dishes just to move up in the pecking order. I’ve seen many good ones not work their way out of the kitchen! Stay here, build your brand and let them come looking for you.”

“Screw that, Old Man!” said Eddie with more venom than he intended. “You just said it yourself! You don’t give a damn about me! You just want to keep me around to pad your pockets!” 

“That’s not what I …” said Hank.

“And now you want to walk it back? Give me some credit!” said Eddie. “You’re full of it!”

“You know what you’re full of, son?” Hank asked.

Eddie turned away. “I know what you’re going to say, but enlighten me!”

“Yourself!” Hank replied with palpable hurt and disappointment in his baritone. “Do you remember your audition, Eddie? It was all I could do to not laugh in your face. I thought there was no way you could ever do a decent Elvis, let alone be a great one. But I gave you a shot because we needed an Elvis, and you showed up at the right time asking to do it. It was a long season of awkward performances, more Meat Loaf than Elvis most of the time. And I still brought you back the next year! You saved the club! Now look at you! You’re great at this! You’re absolutely right, you bought those curtains! But I gave you a chance when no one else would. We’re a team, my man! And this is how you repay me? By dropping this bomb on me in the middle of the season?  And son, you don’t fool me! I don’t know what’s eating your ass, but you’re not going to Vegas to work. You’re running from something!”

“You don’t know shit about me!” Eddie replied.

“Bullshit! You’re a runner,” Hank snapped. “It’s what you do! Hell, you were running when you came through that front door!” He pointed toward the double doors at the front of the club for emphasis. “You’re a coward!”

Eddie drew back his fist.

Hank’s lips tightened, and he stood. His stooped back straightened even if it took a roll of his hips to get it there. “You don’t want to do that, boy! I may be old, but I can still stomp a mudhole in your ass so wide Dollywood will make a new ride of it!”

Eddie dropped his fist. He didn’t want to fight Hank, but their conversation went south early, and a U-turn hadn’t presented itself over the course of the conversation. 

Hank slammed his hands into Eddie’s chest. The unexpected blow hurt and sent Eddie tumbling over the table behind him. He nearly caught himself, but the table flipped and sprawled him to the concrete floor. “What the hell? I dropped my fist!”

“Come on!” Hank goaded. “You want to hit me? Do it, punk! Or am I right about you? You’re nothing but a coward? You can’t even tell me what’s eating you. How did I ever think I saw greatness in you?”

“I’m no coward!” Eddie shot back as he looked up at his mentor. The old man was freakishly strong! If Eddie tangled with him, there was definitely an ass-whipping in his immediate future. Besides, why take out his frustration on Hank? Eddie was the one running, but not for the reasons Hank believed. How could he explain the aliens and EGAD? It was better to part on bad terms than to let Hank think he was nuts. “I’ll let you have that one, Old Man! But I’m no coward!”

Hank laughed. “Let me have it?”

Eddie grabbed the back of a chair and pulled himself up. “I don’t need this. I’m out of here!”

“That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it?” Hank asked. “Let the chips fall where they may and run!”

Eddie nodded. “Pretty much.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Hank asked. “You said it yourself! This place is a shit hole! You live in a shit hole! You treat the women in your life like shit on your shoe and discard each one for the next. Maybe instead of everything else being shit, you’re the only real shit in your life!”

Eddie grabbed his guitar case and stormed off. “Damned old fool!”

“I may be an old fool, but I know a coward when I see one!” Hank shot back. “Go on then, coward! Keep running! But you run through those doors, don’t you ever come back! You hear?”

It wasn’t Eddie’s intention to return. He shot the middle finger over his shoulder and crashed through the double doors for what he hoped was the last time. “Yeah? Well, you can kiss my ass, old man, because this coward’s Vegas bound! Good luck finding your next sucker!”

Chapter Six

E ddie tossed his guitar case into the trunk of his car and closed the compartment lid. Leaving the Time Capsule was more difficult than he anticipated. The club held so many cherished memories and was vital in his growth as a tribute artist. He opened the driver’s door and paused for one last look at the building.

The vinyl seat creaked when he settled behind the wheel. He shut the door and slid the key into Marge’s ignition. She sputtered but didn’t start. “Oh, this is great, just fucking great!” Eddie hissed, pounding the steering wheel with both fists. “Come on, old girl! You’ve been good all day! Don’t quit on me now! We have a big trip ahead of us tomorrow!”

Eddie turned the key again, but the starter coughed and jerked to a grinding halt. He hoped his meager savings and the sale of his camper would sustain him financially when he hit Vegas. If Marge needed repairs to get there, it would limit his job choices. He didn’t want to wait tables while waiting for an E.T.A position to open. 

Hank was right about the dynamic in the desert; Elvis impersonators were a dime a dozen, and there were few openings for long-term gigs. If he wanted to work as a tribute artist, he might have to find work on the outskirts, in one of the casinos frequented by elderly gamblers seeking to avoid the crowds in the city. It wasn’t quite his dream, but a paid gig as a tribute artist was preferable to washing dishes at a posh resort in the city while some lesser talent struggled to entertain the crowds.

Eddie retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and opened his glove compartment. He kept one of the local “Numbers You Should Know” Directories there that he swiped from a cheap motel room on the Parkway when he first moved to Pigeon Forge. It came in handy more times than he could count over the years. He located a towing service and dialed.

A gruff-voiced woman answered on the fourth ring. “Yeah?” she barked into the phone.

Eddie pulled the phone away from his ear. “I need a tow. My car won’t start.”

“Alvin!” the woman yelled. “Alvin! Wake up! Some damned fool needs a tow!” There was muffled silence as the woman prodded a groggy “Alvin” awake. She finally uncovered the phone and nearly split Eddie’s eardrum. “He wants to know where you’re at!”

“I’m at the Time Capsule over on…”

“I know where the hell it is,” the woman interrupted. “Give Alvin time to get his pants on and fire up the truck. About twenty minutes!”

Spoken like an old-timer. Alvin’s “twenty minutes” would likely be forty-five or more. It wasn’t yet eleven o’clock, so the Parkway was still hopping. At one time, nightlife in the Smokies meant heading to Gatlinburg. Things changed considerably once the Island entertainment complex opened in the middle of Pigeon Forge. Crowds stayed out much later, which meant the Parkway traffic was heavier after-hours than back in the day.

Eddie tried the key once more, and Marge fired up right away. “You know what? She started! Sorry to bother you!”

The towing service must have had an old-fashioned rotary phone because a receiver slammed in Eddie's ear for the first time in years. He considered calling back to give the rude woman a piece of his mind but counted it a win that Marge started, and he didn’t have to deal with the towing company at all. He made a mental note to stop by a service station on his way out of town the following day.

Eddie backed Marge out of her parking space and turned onto Teaster Lane. A push of the power button and the radio blared to life. KISS’s “Come on and Love Me” erupted from his speakers. It wasn’t often he heard a deep cut from the band on commercial radio. Eddie always liked the song, so he cranked it even louder. The light cycled three times before Marge finally made it onto the Parkway.

Traffic was stop-and-go, but that was normal for a weekend night. Eddie passed the familiar landmarks, Flapjack’s Pancake Cabin, Lazerport, and the Outlet Mall. Traffic came to a stop again by Lost Treasure Golf, one of the Parkway’s more impressive putt-putt golf courses. They kept a gutted replica of a pirate’s ship anchored in a cement-bottom lagoon stocked with various carp species.  The fish swam around the skeletal remains of a dinosaur, a twin-engine airplane mounted to appear as if it were flying, an Incan pyramid, a towering volcanic mountain, and an impressive waterfall. A small-gauge train took players to the top of the hill, and they worked their way down as they conquered the twin courses.

The site was once home to Magic World, a rival attraction to Silver Dollar City, itself the forerunner to Dollywood. Magic World was long gone before Eddie arrived in town. Locals and tourists alike spoke of the theme park in reverent, almost-mythical tones. Some insisted it was legendary, that it didn’t actually exist. Others swore it was a travesty of a park desperately searching for a theme, a poor man’s Disney World.

The old-timers remembered the life-sized flying saucer that showed live-motion film flyovers of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park every fifteen minutes or so. This was long before the Motion-Master attractions altered reality for vacationers.

Some tourists admitted to waiting in the parking lot for hours for the saucer to rise off the ground because the park announced its departure schedule over the loudspeaker throughout the day. They quickly pointed out it was their first visit to the area. Eddie figured such stories couldn’t possibly be true and chuckled at the thought of carloads of bumpkins and rubes fooled by the announcement.

There was probably more magic in people’s memories of the park than it possessed while it was open. But as long as the memories were sweet, the nostalgia fueled the myth of a grand theme park, and that’s what mattered most in people’s minds. It wasn’t the tourist attractions that drew people back to the Smoky Mountains year after year; it was the memories. And Eddie felt that tug too. He would miss Pigeon Forge. It was his home for three years, and there would always be a soft spot for it in his heart.

Traffic slowed to a crawl near Flyaway Indoor Skydiving. Eddie always wanted to try it, but it was expensive. When he had the money, other responsibilities claimed his cash flow, like lot rent, food, and electricity.

A group of girls filed past him on the sidewalk. He enjoyed their tan legs and bare bellies. The only brunette of the bunch caught him looking, but she didn’t seem to mind. The dishwater blonde beside her wasn’t as agreeable. She shook her head in disgust and pointed him out to the rest of their friends. Confident she properly shamed Eddie; the high horse blonde continued up the sidewalk with her friends. Her brunette friend, who first caught him looking, peered over her shoulder and ran her fingers through her hair. Her class ring glimmered under the glare of the street lamps. Eddie looked away quickly and prayed for the light to change. He was a player but drew the line at jailbait.  

Eddie squeezed Marge into an unexpected opening in the left lane. The light changed to green, but traffic didn’t budge. An angry blast on Marge’s horn did little to clear the jam, but it felt good. The driver in the car in front of him hung out his window but seemed unconcerned with Eddie’s horn. Something entranced him in the night sky. The girls on the sidewalk were transfixed on the heavens too. They aimed their phones skyward. 

A car rammed into Marge’s rear bumper and flung Eddie into the steering wheel. His lip took the brunt of the unexpected blow, thanks to Marge’s lap seat belts. He wiped a crimson trickle from his mouth and craned his neck out his window to curse the driver who hit him.

The woman was already out of her car. Eddie turned off the radio and searched the glove compartment for his registration and proof of insurance. They were in the mess of papers somewhere. Not finding them right away, he hopped out of the car to assure the lady he had them.

The woman paid him no mind. 

Eddie followed her wide-eyed gaze to the dark canopy above the small mountain tourist trap.

A large black triangle drifted over the town at a low rate of speed. It passed silently over the Parkway. At least it didn’t make a noise anyone could hear over the bedlam on the congested roadway. Strange symbols marked the craft’s underbelly. Large, white searchlights dotted each of its three points and illuminated the town below. Red and blue lights nestled between the searchlights on each side of the triangle and alternated their lighting pattern. The craft was probably thirty feet from nose to tail. A single, green light chased around its body like the ticker in Times Square.

Distant police sirens drew near and drowned out the murmurs and hushed whispers.

Onlookers and pedestrians left shops and sidewalks and joined drivers who abandoned their cars for a better look.

The lady who rammed Marge swiped her phone from her car and raised it skyward. She lowered it a moment later and seemed puzzled. “My phone’s not working!” Others, including the jailbait girls, stared at their devices with confused looks on their faces. The anomaly somehow drained everyone’s phone batteries. 

“What in God’s name is it?” asked a middle-aged man, finally giving up and lowering his phone to his side. His wife clung to his free arm.  

“Far out!” said the young girl who teased Eddie with her jailbait smile moments before. 

One of her friends shrugged her shoulders. “It’s probably a publicity stunt! That’s how these tourist traps work!”

A blonde in their group had a better idea. “Oh my god! Maybe it’s a reality show!”

Eddie lived in the area long enough to know the strange craft wasn’t a stunt or promotion. He laughed at those who reported U.F.O.s, flying saucers, and little green men, but watching that black triangle float across the sky like an intergalactic predator reminded him of Priscilla and Rogers and that damned tabloid!

“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered as the implication struck him. Had the invasion started?

The Parkway ground to a standstill in both directions as motorists stopped in the road to get a closer look. Employees filed out of the gift shops and gawked alongside customers. 

The craft veered east.

“It’s headed to Dollywood!” someone shouted.

“Bet they’ve never had an out-of-state license plate like that before!” another guffawed. 

A police car rolled past traffic on the road’s left shoulder, urging motorists to return to their vehicles. The officer seemed as enthralled as everyone else, and no one listened anyway.

The craft adjusted its course and flew directly over Teaster Lane. A sinking feeling churned Eddie’s stomach. The foreboding triangle came to rest over the general area above the Time Capsule. A hellish red glow erupted from the nose of the ship and streaked to the ground. The explosion rocked the Parkway. A spectacular fireball lit up the night sky.

“No!” Eddie shouted. “Hank!”

The loud blast broke the vessel’s hypnotic spell over the onlookers. Fascination gave way to terror. People scrambled to their cars, but no one could move. Horns blared to life up and down the Parkway. Shoppers and employees ran for cover inside whatever structure was available. Some drivers abandoned their cars and sought refuge inside the shops, which didn’t help the already bottlenecked traffic. 

The craft rose into the air and shot off at an impossible rate of speed. It was gone in the space between Eddie’s panting, shallow breaths.

While others rushed to hide, Eddie hopped back in his car. His thoughts were on his friend and mentor. Maybe the kitchen staff got the place cleaned up early, and no one was inside! Eddie grabbed his cell and tried to dial the Time Capsule, but there was no service. He beat the phone against the steering wheel. It didn’t help, but it made him feel like he was at least doing something. He held the phone to his ear again and heard only static.

The police car shot across the grassy median and headed north on the Parkway toward the scene. Unable to move south to the nearest light to make a U-turn, Eddie followed the cop across the median and slipped in behind him on the shoulder.

Eddie flipped the radio on again.

“… reports still pouring in of the strange craft seen in the skies over Knoxville moments ago. Reports are now trickling in from Pigeon Forge, where the craft apparently attacked and destroyed a dinner theater. Police urge everyone to stay indoors and allow authorities to handle the situation!”

“Damn you, aliens!” Eddie yelled. “Damn you to hell! If you’ve hurt Hank….”

The police car cut through a strip mall parking lot to a back street, and Eddie pushed Marge to stay behind the cruiser. They exited onto Teaster, and both vehicles punched their engines to a full-throated roar.

Moments later, Eddie got his first look at the carnage. The blast hit a gas main, and the fire spread to a cabin rental place nearby. Plumes of flame shot hundreds of feet into the air.

Three fire trucks roared onto the scene. The skilled crews quickly attached a fire hose to the nearest hydrant and opened it. Water erupted from the nozzle, and the firemen turned their attention to protecting the nearby buildings, and why not? The Time Capsule was a total loss.

Marge rolled to a stop behind the police car, and Eddie hopped out.

The square-jawed officer shot from his car with fire in his eyes and made a beeline for Eddie. He was a young man, African-American, probably in his late twenties, a handsome guy with a small mustache and wiry lips. “What the hell is your problem, sir? You can’t follow me across a median like that! If it weren’t for securing the scene, I’d haul your ass to jail right now for that stunt!”

Eddie held up his hands. “I’m sorry, officer. I…”

The young officer gestured wildly toward the rapidly devolving chaos. “You see those flames? You don’t need to be here! Get somewhere safe!”

Eddie shook his head. “No, I have to be here.”

The officer grabbed Eddie by the arm and yanked him back toward Marge. “There’s nothing you can do to help. For your safety, please vacate the premises!”

Eddie jerked his arm away. “My friends and co-workers were inside! I work here, or I did until I quit earlier tonight.”

The officer’s countenance changed quickly. “Do you know how many were inside?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not exactly.  I wasn’t in the kitchen tonight, but being that it was a weekend, I’d say at least ten or twelve counting …Hank.”

“Hank?” the officer asked.

Eddie fought back his tears. “The closest thing to a father I’ve ever known.”

The officer lowered his head and seemed more sympathetic. “I understand, but you need to vacate the premises so emergency crews can do their jobs.”

Eddie pointed to a grassy bank on the other side of the road. “I’ll watch from there.”

The officer pointed to Marge. “I can’t let you do that. You have to get this vehicle out of here, sir. If I have to ask again, you’ll leave me no choice but to arrest you, and I don’t want to do that given your loss.”

Eddie nodded and moved toward Marge.

A second explosion gutted the southernmost stores in the strip mall and belched another round of flames into the air. The inferno spread its wings like a great phoenix and blew several firefighters off their feet. Debris from the burning building slammed into a firefighter and injured him.

By the time everyone recovered their senses, more emergency crews were on the scene, and Marge was blocked. Eddie couldn’t leave if he wanted to. Someone screamed. Eddie quickly realized the panicked howl belonged to the young officer who threatened to arrest him moments before. He was on fire.

Eddie rushed to Marge and grabbed an old Army coat he purchased at a surplus store near Jefferson City. He threw the heavy garment over the officer and tackled him to the ground. The burning officer’s screams attracted the attention of one of the firefighters, who grabbed a fire-retardant blanket from the truck and yelled for Eddie to move.

Eddie complied, and the fireman covered the officer with the blanket. The heavy blanket snuffed the flames, and the officer was removed from the scene by E.M.T.s.

“Excuse me,” said a voice Eddie didn’t recognize. “What are you doing here, son?”

Eddie turned and found himself face-to-face with the Chief of Police. “I worked here.”

The Chief eyed him suspiciously. “I’m Chief Miller. Your identification, please.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Eddie replied. He pointed to his car. “My car is blocked, and I just saved an officer’s life.”

Chief Miller glanced at Eddie’s car but turned to him again. “I asked to see your identification, sir. Your driver’s license is sufficient.”

A second officer joined the Chief of Police. “Is there a problem, Chief?”

“I’m good, Brasswell,” Miller answered. “Our friend here was about to produce his driver’s license.”

Eddie reached for his left hip pocket, where he kept his wallet.

Brasswell drew his gun. “Keep the hands where I can see them! Where were you when the building exploded?”

The sight of the cold, unsympathetic steel nearly made Eddie’s heart stop.  “Whoa! Easy! I’m not looking for trouble! I can’t get my wallet if my hands are in the air!”

“Leave your hands in the air and turn around!” Chief Miller demanded.

Eddie’s hands shot into the air.

Brasswell removed Eddie’s wallet from his left pocket and tossed it to Miller.

Miller grunted a few times as he scanned Eddie’s license.                              “Gentlemen, I assure you I had nothing to do with this,” Eddie pleaded. “It was the U.F.O., that black triangle! Thousands saw it, so why give me the third degree?”

Eddie’s argument felt as flimsy as it was empty. The U.F.O. was long gone. If not for the fire spreading out of control, he’d have a hard time believing it himself. But he saw it, didn’t he? It was real, wasn’t it?

“Put your gun away, Brasswell!” the Chief ordered. “And son, you can put your hands down. Here, take your wallet back. You have to understand, we found you at a crime scene.”

Eddie turned around. “I rushed here when I saw the explosion. I worked here, sir. Or I did before I walked out tonight. God, the things I said to Hank….”

“Care to explain why the place blew up after you were fired?” Brasswell asked.

Eddie shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “I didn’t get fired. I’m moving to Vegas. Hank and I argued about it. I stormed off. I was on the Parkway when that thing blew the place sky-high. The injured officer can confirm my whereabouts. I followed him here. Hank was like a father to me.”              

“Then you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions for us then?” Chief Miller asked.

“What kind of questions?” Eddie asked. He wondered if he needed to contact an attorney.

Brasswell moved in behind Eddie and pulled his hands behind him. The handcuffs were cold and tight on Eddie’s wrists. “What the hell? I’m not….”

“Save it for questioning,” said Miller.

The handcuffs hurt. “Am I under arrest?” Eddie asked.

“We’ll deal with you later,” Miller replied.

Brasswell led Eddie to a police car and opened the back door. Eddie ducked his head and tried to enter the backseat carefully. It was hard to keep his balance with his hands bound behind his back. Brasswell “escorted” Eddie into the car with a boot heel to his rear-end.

Eddie’s shoulder slammed into the door frame, and he ricocheted into the floor. Somehow. he scooted onto the seat without the use of his hands. “You’re making a mistake, officer. This is all a misunderstanding.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” said Brasswell. He grabbed the car door to slam it shut but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“That will be enough, gentlemen! Release this man now!”

Eddie’s head popped up to look out the back glass. It was Rogers. Priscilla followed close behind. She replaced her casual vacation wear with a black pants suit, a white blouse, and flat black shoes.

“By what authority do you demand me to release this suspect?” Miller yelled over the chaos.

Acting almost as one, both EGAD agents flashed badges to the Police Chief.

“This scene is now under the jurisdiction of the United States Government,” said Rogers. “Firefighters and other emergency personnel may remain, but I want a detailed report of every person on the scene. They will require debriefing. Establish a perimeter. No one gets within a half-a-mile of the place in any direction, and that includes media and rubberneckers. Radio chatter to a minimum.”

Miller’s face tightened. “That’s impossible! It would take my entire force and help from all over the county to….”

“Then get them on it,” Rogers ordered. “Now!”

“I can’t do that,” Miller argued. “We’ll have looters or….”

“Get that perimeter secured, or you can explain to the Attorney General why you refused orders,” Rogers commanded. “Do I make myself clear?”

Chief Miller rushed to his car. An announcement blared from the radio on Brasswell’s shoulder. “All units establish a perimeter of one half-mile in all directions from the scene of … the incident. No one in or out without approval, and nobody talks to the media or anyone else.”

Rogers spoke into his wristwatch. His voice followed on the radio immediately after Miller’s. “The use of force is authorized to maintain the perimeter. No questions asked.”

A tap of fingernails on the back glass let Eddie know Priscilla arrived. She leaned into the door frame with a shit-eating grin spread across her lips. “Rule number one… don’t get yourself idiot self arrested.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I thought rule number one was never tell a girl it’s been a while?”

Priscilla smiled. “Good job! You’re learning!”

Eddie leaned forward to show her the handcuffs. “A little help with these?”

Priscilla helped Eddie crawl out of the police cruiser. “Handcuffs, huh? You should have told me you’re into the kinky stuff.”

“You’re a barrel of laughs,” said Eddie.

Priscilla tapped Brasswell on the shoulder. “I need the key to these cuffs.”

“I don’t like this,” Brasswell replied, fumbling for his keys. He found the right one and held it up. 

Priscilla snatched the key from the officer and freed Eddie. “I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

Eddie rubbed his aching wrists.

“You okay?” Priscilla asked.

Eddie nodded. “I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”

Priscilla smiled. “Poor baby. Want me to kiss your boo-boo?”

“I’m going to file a complaint,” said Brasswell, poking his head into their conversation.

Priscilla returned the key to Brasswell and waved her finger under his nose. “You will do no such thing! This scene is now classified. As far as anyone will ever know, a gas main exploded for reasons that will remain under investigation indefinitely. You didn’t see anything! You didn’t hear anything! You don’t know anything! Got it?”

The officer eyed Priscilla’s wagging finger. “A word of advice, girlie. I would get that finger out of my face.”

“We’re swapping advice now? In that case, you’d do well to remember my name isn’t “girlie,” Priscilla replied. “Unless, of course, you’d like this “girlie” to hand your ass to you in front of your fellow officers.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. Did Priscilla threaten a police officer? 

Brasswell slapped at Priscilla’s hand, but she moved with cat-like speed and caught the officer’s hand in mid-slap. She latched onto his wrist and pulled it back toward his elbow. A sweep of his leg and Brasswell was on the ground with his arm pinned behind him and Priscilla’s knee in his back. Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what she did to him next, but her hand moved to his neck, and his face froze in horror.

“I can’t move!” the stunned officer shrieked. “What the hell did you do to me? I can’t move!”

“Shall we discuss your willingness to cooperate fully, officer?” Priscilla asked. “Or should I demonstrate how to make the effects of this nerve hold permanent?”

Brasswell grimaced, looking pained that he was bested so effortlessly by a woman. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just let me up! I can’t feel my body!”

Priscilla released the frantic officer. “Now, enforce that perimeter or so help me God, your next badge will read, “Do You Want Fries with That?” Do I make myself clear?”

Brasswell scrambled to his feet and snapped to attention. “Yes, Ma’am!” He raced to his car and disappeared from the scene. 

“My hero two nights in a row,” said Eddie.

Priscilla crossed her arms. “So, for once in your life, you don’t regret that we met?”

Eddie held up two fingers. “This is the second time. The first time we had sex. I never regret great sex.”

Priscilla smiled. “Great sex, was it?”

Another explosion riveted Eddie’s attention to the burning club. “Why did they do this?”

“Who?” Priscilla asked, her voice breaking. She looked around nervously. 

Eddie was tired of the games. “You know damn well who I’m talking about! The Gray! Those creepy alien bastards you have tattooed on your ass!”

Priscilla covered Eddie’s mouth with her hand. She placed her lips inches from his ear. “Not in public! Not ever in public! Do you understand?”

The hushed whisper chilled Eddie’s spine. He nodded as eagerly as Brasswell did moments before.

Priscilla uncovered his mouth slowly.

“I just don’t understand why they did this,” Eddie added.

“Honestly?” Priscilla asked. “You want the truth?”

Eddie nodded. “Please, I lost friends in that building. At the very least, I deserve to know why.”

“They didn’t give a damn about this place,” Priscilla answered. “They were after you.”

“Me?” Eddie asked. “I told you I want no part of this.”

Priscilla put her arm around Eddie and escorted him toward a long, black sedan. “Sorry to disappoint you, Moneybags. What you want is irrelevant at this point. You’re the star attraction in this drama, and there’s no understudy.”

Chapter Seven

R ogers picked his way through the chaos and joined Eddie and Priscilla by the black sedan. “Stay with Mr. King until I return. I’ll prevent the locals from contaminating the scene until a proper cleanup crew arrives.”

Priscilla herded Eddie to the ominous sedan and opened the rear passenger door. “Come on, Eddie, let’s get you out of here. There’s still much you don’t know.”

Eddie grabbed the door frame and held his ground. “What don’t I know?”

The raging flames reflected in the sedan’s dark, glossy paint.

Priscilla peered over her shoulder at Rogers, who barked orders to the emergency crews. “We can discuss it in the car. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

A storage shed next to the cabin rental place exploded and belched a fresh plume of flames into the night sky. Emergency workers retreated from the new threat and regrouped. Even from a distance, the inferno’s intense heat warmed Eddie’s face. His shadow stretched across the pavement when he turned away. “You and I… We have two very different definitions of safe.”

Priscilla funneled Eddie into the sedan’s red, leather backseat. She slid in next to him and scooted him aside with her hip. The car door barely made a sound when she slammed it shut behind them.

Eddie buried his face in his hands. “Lord, the terrible things I said to Hank earlier… What am I supposed to do now?”

“You’ll go with us,” Priscilla replied. “Or the Gray will hunt you down and kill you. And as you can see, collateral damage means nothing to them.”

Eddie tinkered with a video screen built into the back of the driver’s headrest. “And sticking with you people is my best option? I’ve had nothing but trouble since you showed up!” 

“True, but you endanger everyone else as long as the Gray pursues you,” Priscilla replied. “Our people are trained to respond to such threats. Weird is our specialty.”

Eddie wanted nothing to do with aliens, secret organizations, or intergalactic wars. “This is about that Starseed nonsense.”

Priscilla nodded. “Yes, it’s about the Starseed, and it isn’t nonsense where the Gray are concerned. They’re desperate to kill humanity’s only hope.”

Eddie raked his fingers across the buttons below the video screen. “Why is everyone clued in on that bit of news but me?”

Priscilla retrieved a briefcase from the front seat and searched its contents. She dug out a folder marked “Classified” and handed it to Eddie. “See this intelligence report?”

Eddie had never seen an intelligence report before. A grocery list marked “Classified” would have impressed him just as much. He thumbed through the information, unsure what he was supposed to find. 

“Our allies in the Nordic Resistance intercepted a Gray scout fleet at the edge of our solar system a few days ago,” Priscilla explained. She took the report from Eddie and flipped to the next page. She pointed out a paragraph describing the encounter of which she spoke.

Another term Eddie didn’t recognize. “The Nordic Resistance?”

Priscilla snatched the report from Eddie and returned it to the briefcase. “The Nordics hail from the Pleiades star cluster and are generally considered allies. Nordic is the name the UFO community gave them. They’re actually called Pleiadeans. We have a few working in our organization.” 

“Aliens? Working here on Earth?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla latched the briefcase. “There are several alien species on Earth. Some are allies, others not so much. You already know about our little Gray friends.”

Eddie nodded. “But I haven’t seen one.”

Priscilla arched her eyebrows. “Yet.”

Something about the way Priscilla emphasized that single word unnerved him. “So, these Pleiadians believe the Gray will attack soon?”

Priscilla returned the leather briefcase to the front seat. “If the invasion hasn’t begun already. The scout fleet numbered eleven ships, including a Royal Viper, a warship rarely seen outside the Zeta Reticulum galaxy. Lone vessels slip through the Resistance line and make it to Earth from time to time, but this was an entire fleet. It’s only a matter of time before such numbers break through somewhere.”

“A matter of time before the invasion begins,” Eddie repeated. “That sounds insane.”

A fleet of long, black sedans rolled up and skidded to a halt near them. Four agents poured out of each car. They wore suits like Rogers and the goons who held Eddie against his will in Priscilla’s room.

“The Reptilian channels we monitor are experiencing an upswing in chatter as well,” said Priscilla.

Reptilians. The name made Eddie’s skin crawl. “Friends of ours? Please say yes.”

“Allies of the Gray,” Priscilla explained. “They hail from the Draco system and first colonized Earth’s subterranean regions at the dawn of mankind.”

“Hostile?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla nodded. “Extremely.”

Eddie weighed the revelation that humans shared the Earth with a hostile alien species. “But we have allies, right? These Pleiadians…”

Priscilla winced at the mention of an alliance between Earth and the Pleiadeans. “Not officially allies. Eisenhower met with them back in the 1950s. They believed humanity was on the cusp of a great breakthrough, that we were close to realizing our potential as a species. They hoped to usher humankind into the intergalactic community. Talks fell apart when Cold War America refused nuclear disarmament.”

“President Eisenhower met with aliens?” Eddie asked.

An astounding revelation followed every time Priscilla opened her mouth. 

Priscilla nodded. “Intergalactic policy was a great failure of his administration.”

“So, we pissed them off?” Eddie prodded.

Priscilla shrugged. “Pissed off is a strong phrase when describing Pleiadians. They aren’t typically an overly emotional species. Disappointed is more accurate. Officially, they remain a friendly race but not allies. Some help us despite their government’s pledge not to interfere in our affairs. They’re the Resistance I mentioned earlier.”

“That was over sixty years ago,” Eddie replied. “We’ve come a long way since then. Surely they see that.”

Priscilla’s face wrinkled. “That’s where our little tale goes off the rails.”

“Oh good, we’ve reached the crazy part,” said Eddie.

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” Priscilla asked.

Of course, Eddie wanted to hear it. He hoped that if he swished his pan in the stream long enough, he’d find some nugget of information that made sense. “Sure, continue.”

“Shortly after the United States rebuffed the Nordics, the Gray made contact,” Priscilla continued. “Eisenhower was already panicked from the realization that there were alien civilizations far more advanced than our own; dangers out there potentially far worse than communism. He questioned the Gray’s motives but felt our country needed an alliance with one of the advanced alien races before they approached the Soviets. The Gray made Ike an offer that didn’t require disarmament.”

“We allied ourselves with the Gray?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla nodded solemnly. “And struck a deal with the devil. They spooned out minor technological advances over the years, just enough to keep the United States a step ahead of the Soviets. They claimed mankind needed to learn to walk before we could run. In exchange for their table scraps, they were allowed to harvest biological resources.”

“Abductions, you mean,” said Eddie.

Priscilla looked away and sighed.

“Eisenhower agreed to that bargain?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla shook her head. “Not exactly. The Gray presented themselves as a peaceful race of scientists at first, gathering research from various worlds. They initially experimented with animals but soon pivoted to humans. When Ike objected, the Gray assured they would limit abductions to a minimum. They swore to return the subjects unharmed with no memories of the incidents. By the 1970s, people went missing without explanation regularly.”

“Human guinea pigs,” said Eddie.

Priscilla eyed the events outside. She didn’t speak again until she accounted for Rogers. “The tests grew increasingly invasive. Kennedy built underground facilities off-the-books, so military scientists could observe and monitor the Gray’s activities. The Gray agreed, but once the facilities were operational, they denied Air Force inspectors the agreed-upon access. The relationship soured over the decades and remains contentious.”

“Why are they so interested in what makes us tick?” Eddie asked.

“Because they’re terrified of us,” Priscilla replied.

“What?” Eddie asked. “Why? With their technology….”

Priscilla snapped back into her seat. Rogers headed toward the car. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much already. We’ll talk more later.”

“Oh no!” Eddie shot back. “You can’t just drag me into your Flash Gordon melodrama and then clam up!” He grabbed the door handle. “You’re about to watch a Starseed walk away.”

A jolt of electricity raced up Eddie’s arm. He drew his hand back. “Son of a….”

“That was a low voltage tickle,” Priscilla warned. “You don’t want to feel the high voltage one.”

“I’m a prisoner?” Eddie asked.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe,” Priscilla replied. “Excuse me.” She opened her car door and left Eddie nursing his still-tingling hand.

Priscilla and Rogers shared a heated exchange that ended with her stomping back to the car. The driver’s door flew open, and she slid behind the wheel. The door slammed so hard it shook the car but made little sound.

“What was that all about?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla eyed Eddie in the rear-view mirror. Her compassionate eyes told him all he needed to know.

“Yeah, I get it,” Eddie huffed. “Let me guess, ‘Classified.’”

The front passenger door opened. Rogers plopped into the seat.

“What are you doing?” Priscilla asked. “Didn’t you just insist we stay until the cleanup crew established control?”

Rogers watched the chaos unfolding outside the car. “I did indeed but realized you were right. The Starseed’s safety is our top priority. Let’s move.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what their argument was about.

Priscilla composed herself and fired up the vehicle’s engine. “Where to then, Chief?”

“Brown Mountain,” Rogers replied. “And step on it. Push the Worm to her limits.”

“The Worm?” Eddie laughed from the backseat.

Priscilla rolled her eyes in the mirror. “It’s what the Chief calls the car. It’s short for “wormhole,” which is a….”

“No need to explain,” Eddie interrupted. “I’ve watched Star Trek.”

Rogers tapped his fingers against the window and watched the skies. “I suspect Agent Day has filled you in, Mr. King?”

Eddie met Priscilla’s gaze in the mirror. Her nod assured him it was okay to share their conversation.

“Somewhat,” Eddie replied. “I’m still trying to catch up.”

“Get used to it,” Rogers answered. “It only gets weirder from here.” He glanced at the skies once more. “We’ll endanger fewer lives if we stick to the back roads.”

The black sedan raced out of Pigeon Forge and followed the bypass to avoid Gatlinburg. They encountered very few cars in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park so late at night. The Worm whipped around the winding mountain curves at highway speeds but never slid an inch. The laws of physics were no match for the sleek driving machine, even in the hairpin turns. They crossed the serpentine mountain into North Carolina without so much as squealing a tire.

The Cherokee Indian reservation blurred by the windows. They were soon surrounded by dark forests once more. Tree silhouettes merged into a continuous black canvas as the car gained speed. Half an hour outside Cherokee, Priscilla steered the car off-road into the woods. How was it possible they made the two-hour trip to Brown Mountain in thirty minutes? They passed between two large boulders and crossed a shallow creek.

The Worm began the improbable climb up the side of the rugged mountain. A four-wheel drive couldn’t have performed better. A dry, rocky creek bed loomed ahead in the car’s headlights. Years of gushing rainwater gashed a deep gully into the mountainside. Fallen trees and boulders lay in an impenetrable thicket of rhododendron and laurel. The thick vegetation choked the dry trench. 

“There’s no way this car will get through that!” said Eddie.

Rogers looked over the back of the seat. “Never count out the Worm.”             

The Worm’s front-end lifted into the air, and all went still.

Eddie peeked out the window. “We’re flying! It’s like the Jetsons!”

“You’ve never flown, Mr. King?” Rogers asked. He retrieved his briefcase from the floor and opened it.

Eddie gawked at the terrain below. “Not in a car!”

Did Rogers crack a smile? 

They reached the mountaintop and emerged into a grassy field. The naked sky above presented a jarring view of the stars after relying so long on the tree canopy’s natural stealth. Eddie had no idea where they were, but Priscilla showed no signs of distress. She obviously knew the destination well. The Worm raced above the long, wild meadow grass and stirred the vegetation in its wake. The car lurched toward a line of trees in the distance.

Priscilla ignored a metal sign posted on a barbed-wire fence that warned away trespassers. She navigated up and over the barrier and plunged into the dark forest once more.

A couple of minutes later, they arrived at a logging road. Twin steel gates blocked access with long, A-shaped arms. A thick chain fastened them together with a padlock. The metal sign that swung beneath the chain warned drivers and hikers to turn back. The road ahead was washed out.

Priscilla made no move to raise the car in the air and sped toward the steel gates.

“Please tell me you’re not going to crash the gate?” Eddie begged.

Rogers shuffled through the papers in his briefcase. He displayed no concern at the impending collision.

Priscilla plunged the Worm headlong into the steel gate. The car passed through the barrier as if the padlocked arms weren’t there. A well-maintained, paved access road wound beyond the shimmering illusion. The Worm remained in aerial mode, soaring just above the smooth pavement.  

“What the hell?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla smiled. “It’s a hard-light simulation, indistinguishable from reality. The projection blends into the forest and masks what lies beyond it. For example, if someone hopped the gate, a stray hiker perhaps, the programming would compensate for their intrusion. New scenery, indistinguishable from reality, would generate every nanosecond and direct the hiker back down the mountain to a recognized hiking trail. Our hypothetical intruder would never know it wasn’t real. But I can turn off the sim altogether or render it intangible and pass through.”

“So it’s solid?” Eddie asked.

Rogers nodded. “Very much so, and you can interact with it. I believe the word you’re searching for is “wow.”

Wow indeed!

The Worm raced along a ridge and soon reached a guard shack and gate. Two armed guards blocked the road but seemed unimpressed by the flying car as if it were mundane. The sedan hovered to a stop long enough for Rogers to flash his identification. The guards stepped aside, and the Worm hurtled toward the smooth cliff face ahead.

“You guys do realize there’s a mountain there, right?” Eddie asked. “Please tell me it’s another hard-light simulation!”

Rogers turned to Priscilla and furrowed his brow. “So there is. Was there a mountain here before Agent Day?”

“A mountain, sir?” Priscilla asked. “That would be hard to miss.”

The Worm picked up speed. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” said Eddie. “But I’m in no hurry to become an omelet!”

The flying sedan made a final death leap toward its impending doom. Eddie closed his eyes and braced for impact. A moment later, the mountain sucked the vehicle inside. For a brief moment, the Worm floated on a cushion of air. Eddie opened his eyes and turned to see giant, rocky doors closing behind them.

The Worm raced through a massive tunnel with bright concrete walls. LED lighting illuminated the manmade cavern. Eddie was familiar with the network of tunnels that cut through the Great Smoky Mountains National Park but a hidden passage inside a mountain?

“Are we inside the…” Eddie asked.

Priscilla nodded. “Sit back and try to relax.”

Eddie watched the concrete slabs zip by as the Worm sped past them. “So, how far does this go?”

“All the way to the Pacific and all points between,” Rogers answered. “There’s a world down here you didn’t know existed, Mr. King.”

A tunnel from the eastern United States to the Pacific?

“How could anyone build a tunnel like this without anyone knowing?” Eddie asked, intrigued by the sheer scale of the project.

“This particular section from Brown Mountain to Gatlinburg was constructed during the ’60s and ‘70s when the tunnels on 441 were reinforced throughout the National Park,” Rogers replied.

“So, the government used the repair work as an excuse to build this… whatever it is?” Eddie asked.

Rogers didn’t crack a smile. “Off the books and in the name of public safety, of course.”

“But isn’t Brown Mountain hours from the Smokies?” Eddie asked.

“All the better to assure tourists don’t stumble across the entrance,” Priscilla answered. “And the Brown Mountain Lights provide ready-made cover for anything unusual the public may see by accident. Besides, the distance isn’t a big deal when you travel it in the Worm.”

The subterranean artery’s gradual slope suddenly gave way to a gaping maw in the tunnel floor. The Worm dropped into the hole and plunged into the planet’s bowels. It felt more like they were falling than flying. The bottom was nowhere in sight.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asked. It felt like the g-forces were peeling his face off.

“Somewhere safe,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie was tired of everyone claiming they were keeping him safe and rushing him headlong into danger. “Again, I question your definition of safe!”

The Worm pulled out of its free fall and leveled near the bottom of the pit. Eddie peeked over the seat at the speedometer. The car cruised along at two-hundred and sixty miles per hour! They swooshed into an intersecting passage and flew alongside a subway track until they reached a terminal. The Worm touched down and skidded to a stop on a concrete landing pad. 

A guard approached. He opened the door for Rogers and saluted. “The train is ready, sir.”

Neither Rogers nor Priscilla acknowledged the baby-faced young man as they rushed toward a waiting monorail train. Its sparkling pearl-flake white paint gleamed beneath the bright LED lighting. Rogers boarded the rear subway car through the back.

Eddie lifted his hand to his forehead and fumbled to return a proper salute.

Priscilla doubled back and took Eddie’s arm. She ushered Eddie toward the train. “Come on, Eddie! We can’t leave without you!”

“Can’t or won’t?” Eddie asked. Boarding the train scared the hell out of him. It was an admission that he needed help, that he required EGAD’s protection. To dive into their world was to surrender his own, but it wasn’t like he could walk away. He had no idea how far underground the Worm plunged or if it was possible to even return to the surface on foot. Even if he somehow escaped the tunnel, he could wander in the wilderness for days before anyone found him. Or maybe he wouldn’t be found at all.   

Priscilla released his arm and waved her index finger beneath his nose. “Fine! If you want to leave, then go! But don’t expect us to rescue you again when those black triangles come gunning for you!”

“You call this a rescue?” Eddie shot back. “Were you guys in charge of saving Bambi’s mom too?”

Priscilla walked away. “Screw you, Eddie. Good luck finding your way to the surface.”

“Wait,” Eddie sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just… this is a lot. Humor is my go-to when I’m stressed and don’t have alcohol.”

Priscilla stopped and turned. “This is no time for humor, bad or otherwise. We’re trying to protect you.” 

“But it’s okay for you guys to joke about flying me into the side of a mountain?” Eddie asked. “I might feel safer if you stopped dicking me around for laughs one minute and then try to convince me you’re trying to protect me the next!”

Priscilla looked away. “Agreed, and I apologize for the double-standard. Our levity comes from the same place as yours.”

“You’re scared too?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla nodded. “Hell yeah, I’m scared! Even more so than you! I know what we’re up against, which is why every agent in our organization will defend you with their dying breath. Myself included.”

Eddie liked the thought of an army protecting him. “Lead the way then.”

The subway’s rear doors whooshed open. Eddie followed Priscilla through the car and into the next train. Long bench seats ran the length of the subway along both sides. Handles dangled from the ceiling for riders who chose to stand. Priscilla took a seat next to Rogers and buckled in. Eddie followed their lead and strapped in beside her.

Rogers spoke into his wristwatch. “The American Eagle has landed! Repeat! We have the American Eagle! Get us out of here now!”

“Aye, sir!” a voice replied.

Eddie was pleased with his code name. The American Eagle was his second favorite Elvis jumpsuit after the Black Phoenix.

The train rocked back and forth on the magnetic track as if it struggled to find the will to move. The sleek, futuristic subway inched along slowly for a hundred feet or so. “So, this safe place you’re taking me, is there someone there who can help me get in touch with this Starseed?”

“Interested in helping us now?” Rogers grinned.

Eddie shook his head. “Not even a little bit, but if I can communicate with this thing, then maybe I can convince it to leave me the hell alone. Is that possible?”

Rogers nodded along slowly, taking in Eddie’s words. His face lit up when Eddie finished speaking. “Why, of course, Mr. King! We keep Starseed life coaches on speed dial at all times! You know, in case some schmuck happens to pop up during an alien invasion and has no idea how to access his powers.”

Eddie looked into Priscilla’s eyes. “He’s joking, right? I can’t ever tell with this guy.”

The train shot forward like it was fired from a gun. It made the launch coaster at Dollywood seem like a kiddie ride. 

“How fast is this thing?” Eddie asked as the train picked up speed. His stomach was back at the terminal somewhere.

“We would have to slow down for the Japanese Maglev trains to catch us,” Priscilla replied.

“Of course, we would,” said Eddie. “Why bother to ask?”

The train picked up agents at terminals along the way. Their growing numbers and the firepower holstered to their hips boosted Eddie’s confidence in his safety. They had his back. Would life ever return to normal, though?

Since he met Priscilla, he was either fleeing aliens or being dragged along against his will by the organization that claimed it wanted to protect him from them. He wanted nothing to do with either of them. He just wanted to get to Vegas and put it all behind him.

Another stop and more agents boarded.

Priscilla patted Eddie’s nervous, bouncing knee while they waited. “Feeling better?”

“I’ve calmed down a little,” Eddie replied.

Priscilla rubbed the back of his hand. Her lingering touch was the most human thing Eddie felt since she turned on the lights in her hotel room. “It’s okay. We’ve dealt with the Gray for decades.”

The train whirred to life, and they were off once more. Priscilla removed her hand.

Eddie finally worked up the nerve to ask the question that gnawed at him since he first met Rogers and his goons. “Did you sleep with me just to get me involved in all this?”

The heavy sigh that escaped Priscilla’s pink lips cut like a dagger. “I followed you into the grocery store because you were my target.”

“So what happened between us meant nothing to you?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla brushed her long, brown hair from her eyes. “I made contact because it was my job. Sleeping with you was my decision and not work-related.” She nudged Eddie’s shoulder with her own. “Besides, since when are you so worried about the touchy-feely stuff?”

“Nobody likes to feel used,” Eddie replied. “Even an asshole like me.”

“It was sex, Eddie,” Priscilla replied. “It was good. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t do relationships. The job gets in the way. And honestly, I’ve never met anyone I can’t live without. No offense.”

“None taken,” Eddie replied. The terse, candid rejection stung, but at least she was honest with him. That was more than he gave most of the women he used. “So that’s it then? When this is over….”

“Can we just let this whole “saving the world” thing run its course and see what happens?” Priscilla asked. She framed the more audacious aspect of her question in finger quotes.

Eddie boldly slid his right hand over Priscilla’s. “Sure.”

Rogers took notice. 

Priscilla seemed to accept the gesture for a brief moment but then jerked her hand away as if she accidentally dangled it in a pit of vipers. Her arms folded defiantly across her chest. “Don’t.”

Eddie kicked the metal plating beneath the seat with his heels. Why the hell did her reaction bother him? They already had sex, and she said it was good. What more did he need?

The concrete pillars that supported the heavy roof flitted by in the window across from him. Their hypnotic uniformity forced him to look elsewhere lest motion sickness got the best of him.

Rogers busied himself with paperwork, like the world wasn’t falling apart around them, the picture of calm. If Eddie’s lingering fascination bothered the Director, he didn’t let it show. He looked up. Eddie returned his attention to the pillars and slabs outside the window.

A muffled explosion reverberated through the tunnel and broke the spell weaved by the concrete titans that held the earth aloft on their backs. The train pitched to the left and jumped the single rail that ran down the middle of the track.

One of the agents who opted to stand was thrown into Eddie’s lap and tumbled to the floor. A second agent gripped the handhold with both her hands.

The wrenching groan of twisted metal filled Eddie’s ears. The train slammed into a tunnel wall. The cabin ignited with sparks.

“Hold on!” Rogers shouted over the fray.

Eddie didn’t have to be told twice. He gripped the shoulder belt that held him fast to the back of the seat. It tightened in response to the pitching train and slammed the back of his head into the window behind him.

The train teetered back and forth and flipped onto its side. The seats opposite Eddie became the train’s floor, leaving him, in effect, dangling from the ceiling. The train skidded for what felt like forever. Its long line of cars whipped along like an angry serpent, and they were the rattle at the end of its tail.

The screams and cries of terrified agents echoed throughout the steel and fiberglass death trap. Broken glass and mangled metal showered the cabin with jagged shards. Eddie ducked his face into his arms to shield it from damage.

What was once the train’s opposite wall peeled away beneath them, filleted open by the impact of the crash and the friction of sliding along the raised electrical rail.  Those seated on that side of the train were likely dead, their fragile, fleshly bodies reduced to crimson smears and indiscriminate organs littering the track. 

“Smoke!” yelled the female agent who opted to stand earlier. She hung from her handhold, her feet dangling perilously close to the electrified track below her. One of her shoes was missing. Eddie hoped she could hold on and avoid the fate of her fallen comrades-in-arms. He locked eyes with the terror-stricken woman. She was no longer a hardened agent but a frightened human being fighting for her life amid the tragedy unfolding around her.

The smoke was a particularly unwelcome sight. The roiling, gray swell was the last thing Eddie saw before the tunnel went dark. The next few merciless seconds were a terrifying cacophony of unbearable blackness, agonized screams, and billowing, choking smoke.

An occasional stray spark lit the cabin for a brief second here and there, but the light was too random and fleeting for Eddie to gain his bearings. If anything, the chaotic, ill-timed strobe effect made the disorientation worse. Time moved like food coloring suspended in a vial of liquid, swirling and coalescing into a seemingly non-linear, abstract maelstrom.

The race to his final, inevitable death felt agonizingly slow and cruel. Eddie always wondered how he would die, but a train wreck, miles beneath the Earth, while fleeing alien hordes was never in his top ten guesses.

At last, the steel and fiberglass behemoth moaned to rest against the concrete wall with a spine-snapping heave. The eerie quiet was broken only by the sizzle of the pulsing electric rail.

Eddie was alive but unsure what to do next. He tried to release his seatbelt, but it wouldn’t budge. The release was powered by either the train’s electrical current or the mechanism was damaged and wouldn’t open. Either way, he was stuck.

“Priscilla?” Eddie called into the darkness. “Hello? Priscilla, Rogers, anyone there?” The smell of burnt flesh hung in the air. The muffled groans of a male voice gave him hope it was Rogers.

“Hello?” Eddie called again. “Rogers, is that you?”

“Who’s there?” the voice replied.

It definitely wasn’t Rogers. Eddie was reluctant to reply but finally conceded. “Eddie… Eddie King.”

“The Starseed? Why don’t you do something then?” the voice replied.

Eddie shook his head and realized no one could see the futile gesture. “I have no idea how it works. I’m new to this whole Starseed thing.”

The voice fell silent.

Once again, Eddie jerked at the seat belt, but it refused to budge. “Hello? Are you still there?”

A movement in the seat beside him riveted his attention from both the seatbelt and the voice in the dark.

“Eddie?” Priscilla moaned. Her groggy voice was a little above a whisper.

“Priscilla?” Eddie whispered. Her voice gave him reason to hope. “Are you hurt?”

Priscilla groaned and coughed. “I’ll manage. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Are we going to die?”

Priscilla’s hand found Eddie’s arm. “Not on my watch. The seat belts kept us alive. Leave the rest to me.”

Eddie thought back to his jokes about Priscilla being a superhero. Saving him was becoming a habit for her. “Speaking of seat belts, any idea how to get free of these damned things?”

“Give me a second to gather myself,” Priscilla replied. “Lights.”

A holographic projection of a searchlight leaped off the face of Priscilla’s wristwatch. The beam panned the cabin from left to right. The carnage was breathtaking. The agent who hung from the handhold didn’t make it. One of her bloody, mangled arms held tight to the swaying nylon handle. The rest of her was swallowed up somewhere in the gnarled metal skeleton that was once a train.

Human flesh fused with fiberglass, steel, gravel, and earth and created an indiscriminate debris field. A few agents were in one piece, but like Rogers, they were either unconscious or dead. Eddie wasn’t sure which.

A faint, blue glow arced and illuminated the track when it sparked. The car itself was sliced open and twisted. The wreckage blocked the rear compartment.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispered.

Priscilla jerked at her seat belt, but the gesture was as futile as Eddie’s own. “There’s an emergency kit in each overhead compartment. Listen carefully. I’m going to open my compartment. The kit will fall out the second I open it. Do you think you can catch it?”

“I’ll try,” Eddie replied. “What’s in it?”

“Basic first-aid mostly, but I added a laser lipstick tube to every kit,” Priscilla replied. “Never know when they’ll come in handy.”

Eddie was as impressed with her resourcefulness as he was with the technological implication of a laser lipstick. “Of course, you did.”

“You’re one gullible rube,” Priscilla chuckled. Another coughing fit rattled her lungs. “Each emergency kit is equipped with miniature tools.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Really? More jokes, even now?” 

Priscilla fingered a latch overhead. “If you want to get out of this alive, I need to be sharp mentally. Okay, get ready. Unlatching and…”

The emergency kit tumbled to the ground below them before Eddie had a chance to nab it.

“Shit!” said Priscilla. “Rule number one, you’re supposed to catch it!”

“I wasn’t ready!” Eddie replied.

Priscilla slammed her palms against the back of the fiberglass seat. “I told you I was opening the compartment!”

“I didn’t realize it would fall so fast,” Eddie shot back.

Priscilla huffed. “Let me explain then. You see, there’s this rudimentary universal force called gravity, and it causes things to….”

“Thank you for the science lesson, Sir Isaac Newton,” said Eddie.  “I know what gravity is!”

Priscilla pointed to the compartment over Eddie’s head. “Let’s try yours. You open it, and I will catch it.”

Eddie dug into his pocket and removed a pocketknife he kept there to repair guitar and microphone cables, and other musical equipment. He didn’t think of it until Priscilla mentioned the miniature tools in the emergency kits. “Or I could cut us loose with this.”

Priscilla glared at him. “You could have mentioned that sooner.”

“And miss the look on your face right now?” Eddie asked. He cut himself loose and dropped to the ground, careful to avoid the electrified track. He freed Priscilla and helped her to the ground.

Priscilla turned her attention to Rogers. “We need to free the Chief.”

Eddie sliced into the harness that held the unconscious EGAD Director. He almost cut through the tough polyester webbing when a dazzling blue light ripped through the cabin and electrified the air above them with an afterglow like the vapor trail of a jet airplane.

“What the hell was that?” Eddie asked.

“Blaster fire,” Priscilla gulped. “They’ve found us.”

Chapter Eight

W ho found us?” Eddie asked. “Please tell me you mean help.”

Priscilla examined the white-hot gash the beam opened in the subway car’s mangled hull. “It looks like Reptilian blaster fire. We need to get Rogers free.”

The Director remained strapped to his seat like an insect pinned to a collector’s staging board.

Laser fire tore into the subway car once more, slicing indiscriminately into the twisted mess that was once a train.

“I suggest we hurry,” said Eddie. 

Gunshots echoed in the distance and mixed with the ping of laser fire.  

“Sounds like some of our agents survived the crash and joined the fight,” said Priscilla. “I hope they buy us the time we need.”

Eddie cut Rogers loose. He and Priscilla lowered him to the ground.

Priscilla placed her fingers on the Director’s carotid artery. “He’s alive but out cold. We need to get him to a safe place.”

 “It gets worse every time you say that,” Eddie replied. “If we get any safer, we’ll be dead.”

 “Okay, some other place then. Grab his legs,” said Priscilla. “We’ll have to carry him.”

The groggy EGAD Director groaned.

Eddie lifted Rogers by the legs while Priscilla grabbed beneath his armpits.

“Your concern for my safety is touching, Agent Day,” said Rogers. His eyes opened slowly. “Brings a real lump to my throat.”

They laid Rogers on the ground. It took a moment, but he sat up.

“Thank the heavens you’re alive, sir,” said Priscilla. “Can you stand?”

The Director sat up. “I think so.”

Eddie and Priscilla helped Rogers to his feet.

“What kind of hostile is behind the attack?” Rogers asked.

“Unconfirmed at this time, sir,” Priscilla replied. “I suspect Reptilians based on blast damage analysis and the fact we’re this far underground. Working on that theory, it would be safe to assume they compromised our tunnels at some unknown coordinate ahead.”

Fallen agents stirred.

“We should help them,” said Eddie. He checked on a man lying face-down near the front of the car.

Priscilla pulled him back. “No, your safety takes priority over everything else.”

“That’s not cool,” said Eddie. “These people need help. We can’t ignore them.”

An agent near the back of the crushed compartment pushed himself off the ground. He looked like someone raked him over the business end of a cheese grater.

Even Rogers seemed put off by Priscilla’s coldness. He knelt next to the fallen agent that Eddie tried to help and searched for signs of life. He felt for a pulse and checked to see if the man was breathing. “He’s alive, but his breathing is shallow. Mr. King is right. We can’t abandon them here.”

Priscilla held firm. “Sir, I activated the Fallen Star protocol. Help should arrive soon for the wounded. I know it goes against your nature to leave an agent behind, but there’s nothing we can do for the worst among them anyway. Some of those who fared better have regained consciousness.”

She was right. A few agents somehow found a haven in the careening train car and rode it out. Those lucky few were on their feet and assisting others.

“Besides, we don’t know the extent of their injuries,” Priscilla explained. “We may do more harm than good by moving them. It looks bleak, but this scrap heap may be the safest refuge for the wounded right now. Do we want to drag them out into the open if this is a Reptilian attack?”

Rogers sighed. “I know you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”

“And respectfully, sir, all of us have jobs to do,” Priscilla continued. “Back at the Time Capsule, you charged me with protecting the Starseed at all costs! That is my mission unless you override it with another more pressing one.”

Rogers shook his head. “No, stay on mission.”

“Then we can get Eddie out of here, or we can stand around here arguing about it until….”

The groaning of metal interrupted Priscilla’s thought. A scaly hand reached into the hole opened by blaster fire earlier. It peeled back the damaged fiberglass-and-steel cabin like an onion skin. 

The addled agents fell into their training. Those who were able to fight trained their weapons on the creature tearing into the gutted train car.

Priscilla and Rogers drew their arms as well.

“Get behind me, Eddie,” Priscilla demanded.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. The previous night, Priscilla was just another sexual conquest. He never dreamed she would hold his life in her hands less than twenty-four hours later. He peered over her shoulder and watched that terrible hand rip away the fiberglass shell with ease. Powerful, scaly arms flayed the cabin like a sardine can.

A bad taste flooded Eddie’s mouth. He realized it was his heart pounding in his throat. Until that moment, he didn’t believe it possible to taste fear. It wasn’t the fearsome display of strength and raw power that terrified him, but the scaly hand itself. The trepidation was primal, like that of a field mouse dreading the swooping claws of the Red-tailed Hawk, a deep biological impulse that paralyzed him.

Piece-by-piece and panel-by-panel, the creature ripped through the hull until the hole was wide enough for it to burst through. The blood froze in Eddie’s veins at the sight of it.

The name “Reptilian” was an apt description. Large, dark eyes blinked with yellow elliptical pupils like those of a nocturnal serpent. The creature walked upright on two legs. Scaly plates that reminded Eddie of an armadillo’s shell covered its body. It wore a red tunic that hung to its upper thighs. The Creature from the Black Lagoon had nothing on the monstrosity. 

“Hand over the Starseed, and the rest of you shall live!” hissed the thing.

Eddie’s lips trembled. “Reptilian, I assume?”

“How did you guess?” Priscilla asked.

“Definitely a Reptilian,” said Rogers. “You called it correctly, Agent Day.”

They discussed the looming creature as if it were no more threatening than a Norman Rockwell painting.

“Kill the damn thing already!” Eddie shrieked.

“It’s just a run-of-the-mill Reptilian,” Priscilla replied. “I told you about them earlier; allied with the Gray and really nasty sons of bitches.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

The Reptilian’s neck flared like a frilled lizard. “Hand over the Starseed, humans! I will not ask again!”

Its pronunciation of the word “humans” sounded more like “you mans,” but the disgust in his voice was palpable.

Eddie recoiled from the lizard-like creature. “I am not going anywhere with that thing!”

Rogers trained his gun on the creature with one hand and assured Eddie remained safely behind him with the other. “No, Mr. King, you’re not. Stay behind us!”

Eddie wished he had a gun too. They were probably plentiful among the wreckage, but he felt safer behind the wall of drawn weapons than rummaging through the debris for one.

“Let’s give ol’ snake-eyes our answer,” Rogers announced. “Fire!”

Agents unloaded their clips into the creature at point-blank range, but his charge barely faltered. The advancing Reptilian shrugged off the deafening gunfire as easily as he did the bullets.

The creature removed a blaster rifle from his back and returned fire in the cramped quarters. The EGAD agents proved more vulnerable to his blaster fire than he was to their bullets. The hellish blue beam tore through two agents and dropped them before someone’s bullet finally struck the creature between the eyes. It stumbled to a knee and fell but was far from finished. It crawled forward with its final, dying gasps, still determined to nab Eddie.

Neither Rogers nor Priscilla flinched. They fired as long as it kept coming. The Reptilian made a final, desperate lunge. Just when it appeared the creature would reach them, a throwing star sunk into the base of its skull. It finally collapsed.

The shuriken was thrown by an agent who followed it into the cabin. The daring agent placed a sawed-off shotgun at the base of the Reptilian’s skull and finished the job. He gestured for everyone to follow him. Eddie wasn’t crazy about venturing into the tunnels but hanging around in the overturned subway car until the creature’s friends returned seemed even less appealing.

It wasn’t until Eddie exited the train that he appreciated how fortunate they were to be alive. The crumpled wreckage reminded him of a washcloth twisted to wring out the excess water. It was unfathomable they survived.

A dozen agents waited for them in the dim tunnels while others rushed inside the cabin to assist the wounded. Like the agent who rescued them, their suits were sharp, not hanging in tatters or marked with the blood of fallen comrades mingled with their own. The newly arrived, fresh troops surrounded Rogers, Priscilla, and Eddie.

“Let’s get the Starseed out of here,” said Rogers.

“Stay between Rogers and me at all times,” Priscilla instructed. “It’s the protocol for protecting a live target. And whatever you do, don’t touch the center rail. It will fry you.”

Eddie tried to ignore Priscilla’s description of him as a “target” and concentrated instead on the word “live.” He wanted to keep it that way. They escorted him toward the entrance. For the first time since learning of its existence, Eddie wished the Starseed would kick in and do its thing.

Whatever that meant.

Blaster fire mowed into their group. An agent at the rear of the formation clutched at a sudden hole in his chest. He fell to the ground. The blast tore into a second agent’s neck. A third whirled to return fire, but the deadly beam hollowed him out before he got off a shot. Eddie wondered if it was safer on the train with the dead Reptilian.

“Agent Day, get the Starseed to cover!” Rogers ordered. “Everyone else, fall back to a defensible position and hold it!”

Rogers led his agents behind concrete pillars and whatever cover the train wreckage provided. Priscilla escorted Eddie behind a twisted hunk of the undercarriage that connected the train to the magnetic rail.

Bullets ripped through the air and met with the high-pitched whine of blaster fire. Agents shouted instructions to one another over the battle din. The Reptilians made screeching noises that sent chills up Eddie’s spine. Death cries filled the dimly lit tunnels. It was difficult to judge distance or direction with the cacophony of battle echoing off the concrete walls.

Unable to trust his ears, curiosity finally got the best of him, and Eddie peeked over the wreckage. The Reptilians’ scaly hides rendered them virtually impervious to gunfire even as the bullets shredded their multicolored tunics. It worked as both an advantage and a disadvantage for them. While the eerie creatures advanced through the flying lead with little regard for their safety, their attack was uncoordinated. They lumbered forward until they absorbed too many direct hits and succumbed to the accumulated damage. Their lack of coordination allowed the EGAD agents to even the odds with teamwork and strategy. The two sides were locked in a stalemate, but it seemed two more Reptilians took the place of each one that fell. Even Eddie’s untrained eye realized they weren’t dropping quickly enough to turn the tide.

Priscilla jerked Eddie by the arm and yanked him to the ground. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stay low and follow me!”

It sounded like a great plan. Eddie wanted as far away from the Reptilians as possible. Antarctica sounded about right. He crawled behind Priscilla into the tight space between the train’s HVAC casing and the concrete wall. He professed to Rogers in Priscilla’s hotel room that he wasn’t a military genius, but even he knew what Priscilla was doing. The battle was going poorly, and she was leading him away from danger. The terminal where they boarded the train was days away on foot. Still, Eddie preferred moving toward it rather than facing an army of Reptilians.

They found Rogers and another agent huddled behind a slab of metal that was once a part of the train. 

“Any idea where we are, sir?” Priscilla asked over the chaos.

Rogers leaned against the metal slab and fingered the tiny screen on his watch. A three-dimensional holographic model of the tunnel system floated inches above the instrument’s face. “The last data beacon we passed marked our coordinates beneath the Boston Mountains in northwest Arkansas.”

“Did you guys see those things?” Eddie asked, his breath chopping in bursts of disbelief. “That one on the train, it….”

“Pull yourself together, man,” yelled Rogers. “You’ve seen one Reptilian; you’ve seen them all.”

“I didn’t want to see my first!” Eddie shrieked.

“Let it go, Eddie,” Priscilla cautioned. “You can’t shit your pants every time you encounter an unfamiliar species.”

“I didn’t shit my pants,” Eddie replied. “This may be old hat to you guys, but they scare the hell out of me! How long has our government known about those damned things?”

“Since the 1870s,” Rogers replied. “They were discovered long before the Gray.”

“They’ve known about them for over a century?” Eddie howled. “And they haven’t warned the public?”

Priscilla rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder why?”

Rogers craned his neck toward the tunnel behind them. “Go on Agent Day, get him out of here!”

Eddie and Priscilla slithered on their bellies through the mangled wreckage, careful to stick to any cover they found. The debris trail grew smaller the further they moved away from the train until it no longer hid their escape. They emerged into the open tunnel system.

“No cover left to hide behind,” said Priscilla.

Eddie froze. “I can’t.”

“We can’t stop here, Eddie,” said Priscilla. “We’ve been moving ten minutes, tops.”

“But we’ll be in the open,” Eddie argued.

Priscilla tapped the face of her watch a couple of times. A hologram of the tunnel system appeared once more. “We’re a little over a mile from the emergency beacon. There’s an exit near there.”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to ruin my macho image, but I’m freaking out.”

Priscilla smiled. “Macho image? You named your car Marge.” Priscilla dismissed the holograph with a wave of her hand and spoke into the watch. “Rogers, Eddie is freaking out on me. He’s not moving.”

A hologram of Rogers’ head hovered above her watch. The sounds of battle raged in the background behind him. “Get Mr. King to safety! I don’t care what you have to do to get him moving! That’s an order, Agent Day! You can’t afford another reprimand.”

Priscilla nodded. “You can count on me, sir.”

A reprimand? Eddie was intrigued. What did the Good Little Agent do to receive a reprimand?

“I know I can,” Rogers replied. “Mr. King, listen to me! You must go with Agent Day! Do everything she tells you, and she will keep you alive! Do you understand?”

Eddie nodded. “What about you, sir?”

Rogers turned toward the firefight. His face twisted into a grim, worried scowl. “I’ll join you soon.”

Priscilla shook her head. “Sir, are you sure that’s a wise….”

“It’s not open for discussion, Agent Day! These people are my responsibility! Right now, the Starseed is yours,” Rogers replied sternly. “Go!”

Priscilla nodded and turned to Eddie. “You heard him, Eddie! You’re going if I have to knock you out cold and carry you! And I guarantee the Reptilians will catch up to us if I have to do that. Now, move!”

“Me, go first?” Eddie asked. “I hate this plan.” He was no coward but imagined all types of creepy-crawlies lurking ahead in their subterranean nightmare.

Priscilla holstered her gun. “There is another option.”

“I’m all ears,” Eddie replied.

“You can stay there and die,” Rogers answered emphatically. 

The second option sucked worse than the first. “What happened to “none of the above?” Eddie asked. “You people suck hard at multiple choice!”

Rogers and Priscilla shared a brief, lingering glance.

“Be careful,” said Priscilla.

Rogers smiled. “Hey, you know I always am.”

His holographic image flickered and disappeared.

Priscilla prodded Eddie into the darkness. “Go as quickly as you can and keep running no matter what! Whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t turn around!”

Eddie rushed into the dimly lit tunnel and prayed he wouldn’t run into a Reptilian. He ran hard. His only comfort was the sound of Priscilla’s footsteps on his heels. “So that lingering look the two of you shared back there….”

“Eww… no,” Priscilla replied. “It’s not like that! You pretty much know the extent of my romantic history the last three years, okay? Now, no more talk of my love life! Got it?”

“I was just making casual conversation,” Eddie huffed over his shoulder.

Priscilla’s footsteps drew nearer. She was fast. “Asking if I’m sleeping with my boss is not casual conversation!”

One reason Eddie didn’t date was his habit of sabotaging relationships with dumb comments and questions. “I’m sorry.”

Priscilla fell back after his apology.

Laser fire zipped past Eddie’s head and fried the void with its vapor trail. Despite Priscilla’s ominous warning, Eddie stopped running and turned around. Three Reptilians pursued them. Priscilla returned fire. One of the creepy aliens stopped and raised his blaster. He was vaporized before he fired. Someone in the EGAD group obtained a Reptilian blaster rifle. The other Reptilians stopped and exchanged fire with whoever fired on them from behind. 

Eddie rushed to Priscilla’s side and prodded her away from the fight. “Come on! We’ve got to get out of here!”

Priscilla lowered her gun and stopped firing. “What are you doing here? I told you to run!”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” said Eddie.

“I told you it was just sex, Eddie,” said Priscilla. “My safety is not your concern. Don’t let your feelings get you killed!”

Eddie shook his head. “It isn’t about that! You have the gun!”

The fiery anger in Priscilla’s eyes was unexpected. “Fine then! Come on, asshole!”

As usual, Eddie said the wrong thing. He wasn’t sure how long they ran in silence. With each new peek over his shoulder, he imagined the Reptilians closer than the time before, even if he didn’t actually see them. A side-stitch scorched his abdomen, but he guessed Reptilian blaster fire would burn far worse. He willed his tired legs to pump faster, but they grew heavier by the moment. “I have to stop!”

“Just a little farther!” Priscilla shouted. “We’re almost there!”

That bit of news put a spring into Eddie’s step even though he wasn’t sure where “there” was. Just knowing they were close to “there” gave him a small glimmer of hope they would escape their pursuers. Eddie had to believe that or his legs would surrender to the cramps gripping them.

“It should be just past this next bend,” Priscilla called as she got off a shot into the face of one of their Reptilian pursuers. The bullet dropped the creature, but it plodded forward, willed on by an indomitable spirit and ravenous desire to slay the Starseed.

Eddie’s heart stopped when they rounded the bend. A mountain of earth plunged through the shattered concrete roof and cut off their retreat. The cave-in was at least twenty-five feet high and spanned the width of the tunnel.

“Son of a bitch!” said Priscilla, slowing to a stop. “This can’t be happening!” She pressed the face of her watch. The device’s holographic searchlight appeared. She panned the rubble carefully.

“What are you looking for?” Eddie asked.

“An opening we may crawl through,” Priscilla replied.

“Won’t more Reptilians be waiting on the other side?” Eddie asked. 

Priscilla shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, but we know they’re on this side of it and closing fast.”

An exchange of blaster fire erupted in the distance. 

“You don’t have a space-age jet pack or something up your sleeve?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla shook her head. “Left it in the Worm. How are you at climbing?

“Better than I am at dying,” Eddie replied. “Or at least I hope so.”

“I can work with that skill set,” said Priscilla. She waved him onto the rubble with her gun. “Climb.”

Eddie recoiled from the gun. “Jesus! Watch you point that thing!”

Priscilla lowered the gun. “Sorry, but you need to climb. And be careful! There’s a lot of exposed rebar and loose concrete. One wrong move and….”

Eddie picked through the debris for the surest footing. “What’s the point of this? I’m sure they can climb too.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” said Priscilla. “Ever play King of the Mountain when you were a kid?”

Eddie hated the game growing up. He was always the kid sprawled at the bottom of a hill crying over scraped elbows and knees. But he trusted Priscilla to keep him safe. “Yeah, so?”

“It’s easier to defend the high ground,” Priscilla explained. “Sun Tzu says, “All armies prefer high ground to low and sunny places to dark.”

“Who?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla shook her head. “Philistine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not exactly sunny down here either,” Eddie replied. He climbed onto a flat stone and ascended the mound of rubble carefully. They were near the top when Priscilla pointed out a large, loose boulder about thirty feet to her left. “Do you think you can get that thing rolling on my signal?”

Eddie sized up the stone. It was huge, big enough to hide them both, but it wasn’t like she asked him to push it uphill.  “I’ll try my best.”

Priscilla shook her head. “You’ll have to do better than that. On my word, get low and push with all your might.”

Eddie nodded and crouched into position behind the boulder. The large rock obstructed his vision, which made him nervous. He was reliant on Priscilla again. She crouched behind a fallen support beam about fifteen feet away. The barricade didn’t hide her completely, but concealment didn’t seem to be her objective.

Moments later, a bright blue beam ripped through the air and tore into the remainder of the roof, clinging overhead. The indiscriminate display of blaster fire meant the Reptilians hadn’t spotted them. More detritus fell onto the already impressive mound of rock, earth, and construction material. The largest fragment landed with a thud to Eddie’s right and slid down the hill.

Eddie remained entrenched behind the boulder. He wished he could see the Reptilians. Not knowing where they were made him crazy, but perhaps it was for the best that he couldn’t. They paralyzed him with fear. Instead, he eyed Priscilla and waited for her signal. It hit him that they didn’t discuss the signal. What if she gave it and he missed it?

Priscilla shot from her hiding place and drew the Reptilian fire. Where did he get such courage and confidence? She turned away from Eddie and exposed her backside to him. She called loud enough for the Reptilians to hear and gestured as if she were talking to him. “Stay down, Eddie! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

The Reptilians turned their fire away from Priscilla and unloaded in the general area indicated by her clever ploy. Not only was she strong, courageous, and confident but wicked smart as well. She glanced over her shoulder and gave Eddie a sly nod.

Eddie pushed the boulder with all his might but found his footing precarious with the rubble sliding beneath his feet. He turned around and put his back into it. At last, his right foot caught traction against a smooth section of dirt-covered ceiling that once held the mountain in place. It gave him something to push against, and the boulder budged. It inched forward reluctantly at first, but once its center of gravity shifted, it gave way and tumbled down the mound of fallen earth.

With the boulder out of the way, Eddie was finally able to see. One of the Reptilians broke rank and tried to flank Priscilla. He saw the boulder hurling at him and tried to flee but slipped on the loose rock. The boulder squashed him like a bug. 

“You got one!” Priscilla cried.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie cried, leaping up to celebrate his victory. A barrage of blaster fire reminded him to stay low and forced him to dive for cover. “I would feel better if I had a gun!”

“Maybe next time Moneybags!” Priscilla yelled. “Hold tight! I’ll come to you!”

That sounded like a good plan. Eddie certainly felt safer when Priscilla was near. The remaining Reptilians scaled the massive mound of rubble and closed quickly on their position. Priscilla moved from her cover and shot a Reptilian between the eyes. He lost his footing on the treacherous slope and tumbled to the bottom. The pesky hell-spawn regained its composure and advanced on them once more.

“It’s like shooting a damned Weeble Wobble!” Eddie shouted. “They just pop back up!”

The Reptilians laid down a line of fire that forced both Eddie and Priscilla to hunker in place. She couldn’t reach him.

“Be careful!” Priscilla yelled. “They’ve zeroed in on our positions!”

The Reptilians seemed content to ignore Eddie and focused their attention on Priscilla instead. Their blaster fire intensified and forced her farther away from him. The words “divide and conquer” came to mind. Every time she moved a step in Eddie’s direction, the Reptilians pushed her back two. The farther away she moved, the more naked and exposed Eddie felt. A lone Reptilian climbed toward him.

Eddie panicked and grabbed a rock. Sure, a bullet was little more than a mosquito bite to the Reptilians’ armored hides, but a rock would teach the seemingly indestructible alien a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget!  Eddie realized the gesture was futile, but the crude weapon comforted him. Even false hope that he had a fighting chance steeled his shaky nerves.

The Reptilian closed the distance between them quickly.

“Now, Starseed, you will die!” he hissed. He reached for Eddie, but a bullet struck his neck. Priscilla’s shot didn’t kill him, but he stumbled backward on the unstable terrain and struggled to maintain his balance.

Eddie took advantage and kicked him in the chest. It was like kicking a tank, but the blow sent the Reptilian careening down the mound.  He flipped end over end until he reached the bottom. Perhaps King of the Mountain wasn’t a bad strategy after all.

Eddie was hopeful for a moment, but the Reptilian stood and charged up the hill again. They were a relentless horde. Eddie retreated but ran out of room where the rubble’s slope met the ceiling.

The Reptilian was soon on him again. He reached for his blaster, but a familiar blue beam blew a hole through his scaly chest. The creature clawed at his smoking, gaping anatomy and fell face-first onto a large boulder. He twitched his final death throes, and at last, life drained from his eyes.

Rogers emerged from the tunnel with a Reptilian blaster he confiscated from a fallen Reptilian. Leave it up to the Director to make a dramatic entrance.

“Hell, yeah!” shouted Priscilla. “We have a fighting chance now!”

The Reptilians found themselves pinned between Priscilla and Rogers.

Their efforts concentrated on Rogers first, probably because Priscilla’s weapon was of little consequence to them. Rogers darted behind a damaged pillar and popped out to answer the deadly blasts with his own. With both Priscilla and Rogers armed and the Reptilians caught in their crossfire, it appeared Eddie’s protectors were making progress. 

Eddie still held the baseball-sized rock in his hand. He hurled the stone at one of the Reptilians engaged with Rogers and struck it in the back of the head. He was proud there was still something left of his pitching arm from his Little League days. “Courtesy of the Lay Bank Pirates, asshole!”

The stricken Reptilian whipped around and fired. The blast tore into Eddie’s left shoulder. The explosion of heat and searing pain reeled him backward into a broken concrete slab that jutted from the ceiling. The back of his head slammed into it so hard he swore his skull cracked like an eggshell. Was it his brain that oozed out of his ears or blood? He fought the urge to vomit and reached for his smoldering shoulder. It burned so badly he imagined sinew, bone, and nerve fused into one useless mass deep inside the socket. He cursed under his breath.

“Eddie!” Priscilla screamed. Her voice reverberated off the concrete walls like it came from everywhere at once or perhaps like an underwater scream.

Eddie tried to shake the cobwebs loose. The emergency lighting dimmed. No, it wasn’t the lighting. It was his brain that flickered. The last thing he saw was the Reptilian that shot him. Eddie was so groggy that his adrenaline refused to kick in at the sight of the approaching menace. He willed his eyes to remain open, but the darkness was too heavy. His eyelids closed. He hoped it wasn’t for the final time. He spoke before he lost consciousness and regretted it immediately. “Shit” was hardly a profound last word.

And then everything went dark.

Chapter Nine

A swell of light yawned overhead. The flowering glow appeared to swing from a chain like a single incandescent bulb in a dank basement beneath the home of a serial killer. Back and forth, it swayed, scattering luster and shadow in alternating swaths as it rocked closer and then lurched farther away. Shadows ballooned one moment and shrank the next while flashbulbs popped in the distance.

The tenor clang of a distant bell jerked Eddie to his senses and drew a boisterous clamor from the crowd. He recognized the venue from countless nights on his couch watching the greats pound one another’s brains out. It was also the site of one of the King’s most significant musical triumphs. Eddie was seated in the corner of a boxing ring at Madison Square Garden. Heavy gloves and utter weariness weighed down his spent arms. His lungs labored like an overworked plow horse. It hurt to breathe.

Come on, Eddie! This is your round! Go get him!” shouted a voice from his corner. “You can take him!”

Eddie stared across the ring into the eyes of Viper Sobek, his fourth-grade bully. His real name was Jameson Benson Sobek III, but none of the kids dared to call him by anything but his preferred sobriquet. The haughty Roman numerals behind his name seemed little more than an adventitious error and did nothing to lend the lanky delinquent a shred of decency or class.

Viper stalked the ring with the calculated grace of a caged tiger. He pointed a boxing glove at Eddie and taunted him with a guffaw that jiggled the bully’s prominent Adam’s apple. He garroted the laughter with a long suck of snot through his flat, pancake-iron of a nose and spat the mucus over his shoulder into his corner.

That laugh!

Eddie last heard it on the final day of school when he was nine years old. Viper moved away after that but twisted Eddie’s arm one final time and left him with a black-and-purple shiner, a split lip, and a bloodied nose to remember him by, all courtesy of man-sized Converse tennis shoes that stomped Eddie’s face for little more than sport.

Eddie’s tears weren’t coaxed to his cheeks by pain or the bloodthirsty crowd that relished his domination. It wasn’t even the labels his classmates assigned him that day; words young boys could never quite escape – wimp, loser, pansy, sissy, pussy. As terrible as all that was, it was the loss of self-respect that lassoed his tears and wrangled them from his swollen eyes.

At that moment, he knew his back would never fully straighten. His eyes would forever shrink from confrontation. He was fated to the shadows never to shine, no matter how badly his soul yearned to glow. He would never become a real man, regardless of how deep his voice dropped or how much facial hair he sprouted. He was doomed to forever be that scared little boy who buried his self-respect in a shallow grave on an elementary school playground. His lot in life was to rise only so high, lest someone notice him.

During the pummeling, he first thought of Superman and then Bruce Lee and wished one of them would rush in to save him. His thoughts then turned to his mother, who died when he was six. Even as Viper’s thundering foot stamped the Converse logo into the side of his face, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if she would have saved him. He decided it was unlikely since she rejected him for the drugs that took her life long before Viper marked him for less than mediocrity.

“Pathetic coward!” Viper shouted from across the ring, reeling Eddie across the years into the present. “You going to curl up and cry for me again, wuss?”

The crowd roared their approval.

Eddie tried to stand, but his knees were too weak. He couldn’t remember climbing into the ring or hearing an opening bell. All he knew was that he hurt all over. Viper must have used him for a punching bag.

Was it exhaustion or fear glued him to his corner seat? He finally decided it was fear and forced it down. He got into plenty of fights over the years and usually did well. So why did Viper still ice his blood?

Eddie banged his boxing gloves together to fool himself into thinking he had a chance and wobbled to the center of the ring. He tried to remember the few fighting tips he picked up from watching the legends on television.

“Keep your blocking hand close to your face to protect it!” one voice admonished. “But not too close! You don’t want to close yourself off completely!”

“Make sure you’re balanced evenly on your feet and steer your opponent into your punching hand. Dictate, man! Dictate!” cried another.

As good as the advice was, it didn’t help. Viper snaked a hard left hand through Eddie’s defenses and planted one on his chin. The blow snapped his head back and sent him into the corner. His shoulder slammed into the turnbuckle and burned like fire. He tried to gather himself, but Viper closed in for the kill. The first blow caught Eddie in the gut and doubled him over.

Viper reveled in his supremacy. He waited for Eddie to recover and landed a series of body blows, again to the solar plexus.

No breath was left in Eddie’s shriveled lungs. He willed oxygen into the saggy organs but the precious element, so vital to life, eluded him. He struggled to his feet and held up a glove to request a moment’s respite, but Viper would have none of it.

A vicious haymaker slugged Eddie across the jaw and sent him into the ropes once more. He bounced back into another right hook that sent him through the ropes and onto the concrete floor below.

Eddie curled in the fetal position. The bloodthirsty crowd jeered a chorus of the same derisive labels that haunted him as a child. Disoriented, he crawled toward what he hoped was his corner but found himself at the feet of an elegant woman in the front row. Her lips snarled in disgust. A swift kick from her black, jewel-encrusted Louis Vuitton pumps caught him in the ribcage beneath his left armpit.

Eddie clawed at his ribs. It felt like the woman stabbed him. He rolled onto his back and nursed the tender area. “What have I done to you?”

The woman spat on him. Her feloniously overpriced pumps were attached to a shapely pair of legs that disappeared beneath a red A-line dress that flared at the bottom. The back seam of her black, opaque hosiery drew the eye over her shapely calves and vanished under the dress. A matching fabric belt hugged her svelte waistline and accentuated her bounteous bosom. Her hat was tilted to one side and featured a small patch of midnight lace that hung from the brim and obscured her left eye. Most striking were her bright red lips and porcelain complexion that highlighted a face that belonged on a 1940’s pinup model. Blonde hair tickled her shoulders with each uninterested wave of her Japanese fan.

Eddie recognized her. It was Sheila. She left him for a former professional football player three weeks after she accepted his proposal. The jock wasn’t even the famous, pretty-boy, all-everything, quarterback type, but a slovenly elephant of a backup guard who didn’t start a game in his nine years in the league. He retired after an uneventful career of waiver wire transfers and started a construction company in Oklahoma, in the town where he played college ball. His obnoxious billboards dotted I-35 South out of Norman, all the way to the Texas border.

Sheila swore it wasn’t Eddie’s passion for music or the lack of money that caused her to leave, but she married a well-to-do former athlete who called himself the “King of Okla-Homes!”.

Eddie still hated that guy.  

“You pathetic little man!” Sheila sneered. “All these years, and you’re still a lowly worm!”

Eddie couldn’t speak to defend himself. Was he addled from his fall from the ring, or was it because her words rang true?

“Always playing in another man’s pajamas,” Sheila taunted.

The arena howled in delight.

“It’s a jumpsuit,” Eddie coughed in staccato bursts.

“And look at the “Graceland” you bought for yourself!” Sheila added, making a point to emphasize the word “Graceland” in a sardonic tone. “How long did it take you to pay off that piece-of-shit used camper? Or have you? Don’t you want a real home? Or, for God’s sake, a real job?”

The audience roared.

“Eleven…twelve!” Eddie forgot about the boxing match while Sheila denigrated him. The referee’s count climbed higher. The count couldn’t reach twenty, or he would lose. He would probably lose anyway, but it wouldn’t be because he was too afraid to pick himself up. He swore that would never happen again. So what if Viper beat the living hell out of him? Could anyone take more from him?

Eddie crawled to the ring apron and willed himself off the concrete floor. Taking hold of the bottom rope, he slipped underneath, though it was more of a “flop under” than a slide.

Once Eddie was back in the ring, the referee’s protection count started at one since he was still on the mat. Eddie crawled to the empty corner on his side of the ring and used the ropes to pull himself up. It was more like climbing a ladder, but he felt a sense of accomplishment when he stood just as the referee’s count reached seven.

The referee gave the signal to resume the match. Viper moved in for the kill. A stiff jab slithered through Eddie’s defenses and struck him above the left eye. Eddie’s only chance was if his sausage grinder of a face found some way to tire Viper’s pneumatic fists of steel.

Eddie hit the mat and wasn’t even sure how it happened. Did he slip, or did his battered brain convince his woozy knees to finally buckle? The light swung overhead once more, and Eddie crawled to the edge of the ring. He reached for the rope but was too spent to pull himself up. Instead, he flopped onto his back and welcomed the merciful but disgraceful end.

Eddie was underneath the ropes with his head lying off the edge of the ring. He searched the upside-down crowd for Sheila’s smug, satisfied smirk but was delighted to find himself on the opposite side of the ring from her front-row seat. He thanked heaven for small favors. 

Eddie resigned himself to fate. All he had to do was let the ref complete his count. Then he spotted her in the crowd, not Sheila but Priscilla. She chewed her bottom lip and mouthed the words, “Get up, Eddie!” over and over again. She tried to rush the ring, but security stopped her.

“Eddie! Eddie!” she screamed. She whacked at the strong arms of the burly security force but was no match for them. “Get up!”

“Six… seven…”

Mustering every ounce of resolve in his body and still not sure it mattered, Eddie clambered to his feet once more and took a deep breath. Viper pounced, and Eddie swung.

The unexpected blow slipped through Viper’s block and crunched his crooked nose. The crowd gasped as blood gushed from the bully’s hawkish snout.

Viper nursed his bloody proboscis and wiped away a crimson flow of Eddie’s childhood revenge. He slung it from his boxing glove. The blood landed in his corner. “You broke my nose!” Viper whined through swollen nasal passages.              

Eddie felt no remorse, nor did he wait to attack. He leaped forward and pounded his addled foe’s face again and again. It was a flurry of punches unlike any witnessed in the history of the squared circle. Viper begged for mercy, but Eddie quartered none. The bell rang, and Eddie kept swinging wildly, a lifetime of frustration exploding with each blow.

The referee tried to separate the men, but Eddie pushed him away. He stalked his wounded prey around the squared jungle, unleashing rage with each blow. Finally, Viper fell to the mat. He tried to stand, but Eddie kicked him back to the ground and stomped him.

Eddie wished he could trade his ring boots for red Converse tennis shoes. With each crushing tramp of his foot, a sliver of dignity crawled from the gutter of his boyhood. He searched the crowd. Sheila’s seat was empty, but Priscilla leaped up and down with each blow he struck! 

“Somewhere along the way, Jameson Benson Sobek III morphed into a Reptilian. It didn’t matter. Viper, or an invader from beneath the Earth’s surface, Eddie was tired of life taking a dump on him. 

The referee waved off the match, but Eddie was undeterred. The timekeeper’s bell clanged endlessly to no avail. Eddie stalked the Reptilian to his corner and pounced upon his battered opponent, unleashing blow after blow and not caring where they landed. He draped the exhausted creature’s scaly arms over the top ropes on either side of the corner and rested its head on the turnbuckle.

Eddie climbed on the second rope and leaned the Reptilian’s head back. He punched its face again and again. Its scaly armored skin shredded Eddie’s knuckles until there was nothing left on them but bone. The violent onslaught continued unabated. Human bone met alien scales, and both were worse for the wear, but Eddie refused to stop. It was better than sex, better than drugs, better than booze. It went beyond a simple high to unbridled euphoria. He vowed to beat the creature to death.

A determined Eddie swung his right hand once more, but someone caught it in midair and pulled him off the alien. They tackled him to the ground and drove his shoulder into the unforgiving mat. He wasn’t sure who wrestled him down, but exhaustion finally kicked in.

Once again, Eddie stared at the Madison Square ceiling. The light morphed into a single light bulb swinging high overhead. At that moment, with unconsciousness already claiming him, all he could do was throw his head back and laugh. Eddie’s eyes closed, and everything went dark. But as he lost consciousness, the crowd chanted his name. It felt good.

“Eddie! Eddie!”

A series of light slaps stung Eddie’s face. 

“Mr. King, can you hear me, son?” Rogers asked. He continued the brisk smacks until Eddie’s eyes opened.

When Eddie’s vision cleared, Rogers was the first thing he saw. He held Eddie’s head off the ground with one hand and rapped him across the face to awaken him with the other.

“Welcome back!” said Rogers with that damned self-assured grin of his. “Quite the dream you were having.”

Eddie clenched his burning shoulder and sat up. They were still in the train tunnel. The emergency lighting flickered overhead. “Priscilla!”

“They took her,” Rogers replied.

Chapter Ten

R ogers helped Eddie sit up.

Eddie wasn’t sure which was worse, the vertigo that tied his stomach in knots or the relentless waves of nausea from the concussion he likely sustained. His head ached like a railroad spike was driven through it. Sprawled at the foot of the mountain of debris deposited by the collapsed tunnel, it was unclear how he got there. He was near the top of the slope when Reptilian blaster fire struck his shoulder. Did Rogers move him while he was out? Or did he tumble to the bottom after he was shot?

Eddie’s tender, singed shoulder recoiled from the frayed tatters of shirt fabric that scraped over the wound like sandpaper. He dared not peek at the swollen, blistered flesh, or he would freak out. “I feel like I fought the train.”

“It won,” Rogers replied. He kept a hand on Eddie’s back to steady him. “You’re fortunate the blaster only grazed you. Can you stand?”

Eddie shook his head. “Probably not, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try. We have to get Pricilla back!”

Rogers draped Eddie’s good arm and shoulder over his own. “Not going to happen. Your safety takes priority.”

“But she was captured trying to protect me! We have to go after her!” Eddie demanded.

“She did her job,” Rogers countered. “And she did it well. You’re in one piece, more or less.”

The Director’s callous attitude left Eddie stupified. “That’s bullshit!”  

A faraway gleam twinkled in Rogers’ eye. “You have moxie kid. I’ll give you that. You remind me of a fresh-faced, young agent I knew many years ago. He came into the Earth Guard straight out of college, bright-eyed, and ready to take on the world.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Eddie shot back. “The kid was you. Blah, blah, blah.”

A devilish grin splashed across Rogers’ face. “Me? I’m afraid not, Mr. King. That poor, stupid bastard got himself killed on his first mission, but God, did he have moxie!”

“You really know how to give a pep talk,” said Eddie.

Rogers lifted Eddie from the ground. “It’s a gift. Let’s get you to your feet.”

Eddie leaned into Rogers and stood slowly. The sounds of battle echoed off the tunnel walls. “Sounds like they’re getting closer.”

Rogers released Eddie and kept a hand close in case he stumbled. “I agree. They’ll be here soon.”

“Oh good, because we haven’t seen enough of their scaly, green asses already,” Eddie replied.

Rogers eyed Eddie carefully. “You’re good on your feet?”

Eddie nodded. “I can stand.”

Rogers tapped his watch. The searchlight hovered above its face. He directed it to a tight opening between a broken concrete slab that hung precariously from the rebar grid in the exposed ceiling and the slope of the fallen debris. It wasn’t there when Priscilla searched the rubble earlier. A dead Reptilian lay near the opening. “The Reptilians cleared that passage and made it through even with Priscilla fighting them and me shooting at them. I’m sure we can squeeze through.”

“What will they do to her?” Eddie asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted an honest answer.

Rogers bowed his head. “They likely recognized her since they took her captive. My guess is they torture her for information until she… you know.”

“I didn’t realize she was such a big deal,” said Eddie.

Rogers climbed onto a boulder. “She’s a very big deal, our organization’s second-in-command. Losing her will strike a major blow to Earth’s defense.”

Eddie pulled himself up and stood next to Rogers. “That explains why she said her work takes so much of her time.”

Rogers patted Eddie’s back. “You couldn’t have known, kid. It’s not like we distribute organizational flow charts at the Christmas parties.”

“But you blab your secrets to the entire world in a tabloid newspaper,” Eddie replied.

Rogers shrugged. “There are no secrets better kept than the secrets everybody guesses.”

“Did you just make that up?” Eddie asked.

“George Bernard Shaw,” Rogers replied. 
Eddie searched the rubble for the path of least resistance. “Fine, but Priscilla…”

Rogers’ hand shot up. “Listen! Do you hear that?”

Eddie strained his ears. “I don’t hear anything.”

Rogers lowered his hand to his side. “Exactly! They’ve stopped fighting. Let’s not stick around to congratulate the winner.”

“But what about Priscilla?” Eddie asked. “She may be somewhere in these tunnels still. We have to rescue her!”

“Weren’t you listening a moment ago?” Rogers snapped. “She’s a highly trained agent and will escape if the opportunity presents itself. The last thing she’d want is to endanger you by mounting a foolhardy rescue attempt. Besides, one re-purposed blaster and three healthy shoulders between us will do her no favors.”

They passed by a dead Reptilian draped over a concrete slab. Half of his head was gone, and his body was impaled on rebar when he fell. Eddie pried the creature’s blaster loose from his cold, dead hands and held it aloft for Rogers to see. “Make that two blasters.”

Rogers opened his coat and revealed his holstered pistol. “Technically, two blasters and a pop gun, but have you ever pissed on a forest fire, Mr. King?”

Eddie hated that Rogers was right. They lacked the resources to mount a proper rescue. Eddie slung the blaster over his back and swore he would rescue Priscilla somehow. At least they were headed in the same direction in which the Reptilians took her. “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

They climbed until a large concrete slab blocked their path near the opening. Rogers cupped his hands together to assist Eddie up and over since his shoulder was injured. “For the record, there was never any doubt. I’m the Director. We always do it my way.”

Eddie placed a foot in the makeshift stirrup Rogers created with his hands. The Director hoisted him onto the large chunk of concrete. Once Eddie was secure, Rogers jumped and caught the edge with his fingertips. He pulled himself up as if it were child’s play. The climb was smooth after that, particularly without an army of lizard-beasts spraying laser fire at their every movement. The footing was more treacherous near the very top because it was primarily loose soil on concrete. They ignored the dead Reptilian there and slipped through the tight squeeze.  Steel mesh peeked through the rubble on the other side. It made for a much easier descent than their climb. 

As soon as their feet were on solid ground, Rogers turned to Eddie. “Run. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t stop until I say so.”

Eddie had enough running and fighting. He wasn’t sure how much of either he had left in him. “How far this time?”

“The access beacon is only half a mile from here,” said Rogers. “In case I don’t make it, you’ll find a column on the right side of the tunnel with a red ring painted beneath the capstone. An elevator is hidden behind the column. It leads to an access tunnel.  You’ll have to climb from there. Two doors block the tunnel. The first door slides to the right, the second one from the middle. I’ve called for a helicopter. Go with them.”

Eddie shook his head. “No, you’re going to make it! I’m going to make it! We’re both going to make it! And then we’ll find Priscilla!”

Rogers placed a hand on Eddie’s good shoulder. “Agent Day’s a survivor and extremely resourceful, so don’t count her out. She took care of her business and expects us to do the same, okay?”

Priscilla “took care” of her business. Eddie traced the letters encrusted on the face of his ring. Was the not-so-subtle reminder of his adopted mantra a psychological jab?

It felt wrong not to go after Priscilla, but Eddie liked the part about getting out of harm’s way.  He steeled his shredded nerves and ran. His legs churned for what seemed like forever. He hoped Rogers was still behind him. He didn’t slow down even when his lower abdomen burned like a pot-bellied stove glowed red within his gut. Each stride reverberated through his body, their impacts going straight to his wounded shoulder.

Rogers sprinted past Eddie without breaking a sweat. How was it possible for a man his age to be in such great shape? He stopped, checked his watch, and read the hologram projection of the tunnel system. “Not much farther! The escape hatch should be nearby!”

Eddie sure hoped so, or he would die from exhaustion or heart failure. Either was preferable to death at the hands of a Reptilian.              

“Just a little farther, Mr. King,” Rogers promised.

They ran for another few minutes before Rogers slowed and tapped his watch. He compared the holographic tunnel system floating at his eye level with the bleak, shadowy tunnel ahead. Rogers pointed to a column nearby with the red paint at the top. “It’s that one. We made it.”

Tucked out of sight behind the column was a recess in the wall. The elevator located there didn’t light up when Rogers pushed the button. “The power’s out. We’ll have to climb.”

Steel handholds jutted from the wall like the pulls on a drawer and reminded Eddie of the cross beams on playground monkey bars. He grabbed a rung at eye level and stared up into the darkness. About twenty such handholds were visible before they disappeared into the gloomy darkness above.

Rogers motioned for Eddie to climb.  

“Seriously?” Eddie gulped. “Up there?”

Blaster fire lit up the wall to their left. Rogers pointed over his shoulder at a lone Reptilian. “Or you can stay here with Mr. Personality!”

“Climbing’s good,” Eddie replied. The climb was challenging with one arm, but he made progress. 

Rogers fired his blaster at the Reptilian. The bluish glow cut clean through the Reptilian’s scaly torso. It slumped to the ground. 

“Hurry!” Rogers shouted to Eddie. “His friends will be along any minute, and they’ll not be pleased to find him dead!”

Eddie was twelve feet or so above the cavern floor and looked down. Rogers was right behind him on the ladder. “You’re fast.”

Rogers nodded. “Doesn’t matter. Guess which one of us is more likely to get a new asshole blasted into his backside first? Here’s a hint; it won’t be the guy at the top of the ladder.”

A large metal plate blocked Eddie from climbing any higher. He called down to Rogers. “Now what?”

“We went over this,” Rogers replied. “Find the handle and pull it to the right! It should slide!”

Eddie located the handle and yanked it. The metal plate was heavy, but it screeched into the Earth with the sound of metal scraping over rock. Eddie stared up into a dimly lit, metal cylinder that reminded him of a drain pipe turned on its end. 

“This just keeps getting better by the minute,” Eddie sighed.

“Claustrophobia?” Rogers asked.

Eddie suffered from many ailments; allergies, migraines, arachnophobia, and the occasional struggle with irritable bowel syndrome. He was thankful claustrophobia wasn’t among his laundry list of maladies because the rabbit hole above him left little room for anything but climbing. “I’m more worried about spiders and snakes.”

Rogers pointed below. “I would move heavily-armed, pissed-off Reptilians to the top of that list.”

The man made a good point.

Eddie swallowed hard and ascended into the dark, metallic maw that cut through the heart of the Earth. He climbed another twenty feet or so and reached a room at the top of the tunnel. Rogers climbed out after him.

The small room was empty except for the elevator. Next to it on the wall was a fire extinguisher and an ax in a glass encasement. The case was marked, “In Case of Emergency Break Glass.” Avoiding angry Reptilians with mad hard-ons to vaporize them certainly qualified as an emergency. 

Rogers straddled the opening with a foot on either side and pulled the heavy door shut behind him. Rushing toward the elevator, he removed his jacket and wrapped it around his fist. A swift punch sent jagged shards of the glass encasement flying in every direction. The quick-thinking Director retrieved the ax from the case and used the handle to jam the latch. “That should keep them busy long enough to cover our escape.”

Eddie climbed another twenty feet or so and encountered another door. He fumbled for the handle but couldn’t find it.

“The center!” Rogers called. “Look in the center! Did you listen to nothing I said?”

Eddie wasn’t sure why the door was different from the previous one but found the handle and pulled it. Two heavy doors slid apart from the center on a single sliding mechanism. He opened them wide enough to crawl into the next level above. He was pleasantly surprised to find a small, furnished room illuminated by the soft glow of emergency lighting. It was perhaps eight feet by ten feet and allowed him to stand comfortably. The sparsely furnished room had a desk, a lamp, a bed, a toilet, and a sink. Eddie couldn’t help but notice the lack of a ladder. Had they reached the top?

Rogers entered behind him and shook out his jacket in the shaft below. “Mi casa, su casa.”

Eddie searched for a way out, but there were no doors. “Please tell me your master plan doesn’t include us holing up here.”

Rogers spread his arms. “You disapprove of the accommodations? Before you reply, keep in mind the amenities list. Chief among them, the obvious lack of Reptilians!”

Eddie pointed to the twin-sized mattress. “I’d rather face the Reptilians.”

“It’s small, but we can spoon,” Rogers replied. “Everybody loves a good spoon.”

The thought of hiding out in a literal hole in the ground and cuddled up to Rogers was more than Eddie could bear. “I can’t do this.”

“Relax,” Rogers replied. He opened a fuse box in the corner of the room and slammed on the circuit breaker. The high-pitched snap of the switch echoed like thunder in Eddie’s ears. The lights flickered to life and the door sealed behind them, leaving a floor where the opening was moments before. 

Blaster fire slammed into the floor from the other side.

“They’re right behind us!” Eddie shouted. “How in the hell did they get through the first door so fast?”

The floor glowed pink then scowled into an angry orange shimmer.

Rogers ran his fingers over the metal trap-door. He jerked his hand back and blew on his fingertips to cool them off. “The metal’s thick but won’t hold forever. I do believe we must have taken that proverbial wrong turn at Albuquerque.” 

Eddie’s heart raced as the floor glowed brighter. He wasn’t sure how much longer the metal would hold.  “How can you joke at a time like this?”

Blaster fire sliced through the floor and opened a hole large enough for a man’s finger to pass through. The Reptilians were using their blasters like cutting torches. They concentrated their efforts on the tiny hole they opened. It widened rapidly.

“Calm down, Mr. King,” Rogers replied calmly. “I’m not without party favors of my own.” He punched a sequence into his watch. The ceiling above them separated like an observatory dome, revealing the night sky high overhead. The vivid, polychromatic hues of the Milky Way stretched like a ribbon across the heavens in either direction. The floor shook beneath Eddie’s feet as they ascended slowly to the surface. “One, this safe room is far from a dead end.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. He was happy to move away from the Reptilians even as their blaster fire ate away at the hole in the center of the floor.

“And two?” Eddie asked.

Rogers moved to the small desk and slid open a drawer. He retrieved a stick of dynamite. “I really hate these bastards.” He lit the fuse and watched it burn away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie shouted. “Don’t just stand there holding it with that goofy grin on your face! Have I told you how much I hate that damned goofy grin?”

“My mother always said my smile was my best feature,” Rogers replied. “But then again, she was my mother. I suppose she had to say….”

“Just drop the dynamite!” Eddie demanded.

Rogers shrugged and discarded the explosive into the hole. It exploded seconds later. The entire shaft collapsed beneath them just as the elevator reached the surface. Rogers tackled Eddie and knocked him clear of the lift, which fell into the pit behind them in the explosion’s wake.

Chapter Eleven

E ddie savored the fresh night air even with his shoulder burning from blaster fire. With deep, deliberate breaths, he sucked Mother Nature’s life-whisper into his lungs and held her sweet oxygen there. When his lungs filled, he released the essence back to the lush, green forest that surrounded them. The heavens above never looked so good.

“Sweet Jesus! I thought I’d never see the sky again! Isn’t she beautiful, Rogers?” He and the Director were in a clearing in the middle of a thick wood, somewhere in the mountains of northwest Arkansas. They survived the tunnels but were far from safe.

“I hate to be a buzzkill, but we need to keep moving,” Rogers replied. “Reptilians are swarming these woods by now.”  

Eddie offered Rogers the lead. “Then, by all means, after you. I hope that fancy watch of yours has a built-in compass.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, Mr. King,” Rogers replied. “I can override a nuclear launch from this watch. Here, heads up!”

Eddie caught the small flashlight Rogers tossed him.

“It’s not quite as high-tech as my watch, but keep the beam low and focused on the path, and perhaps we won’t attract unwanted attention,” Rogers instructed.

Eddie shined the light ahead of them. Nothing but trees and thickets in every direction.  “There’s a path?”

Rogers’ fingers danced over his watch face. A holographic map of the area floated above it with a compass at the bottom. “I didn’t say it’s an easy path, but between your flashlight and my watch, we should find civilization soon.”

Eddie fell in behind Rogers and followed him into the woods. They ascended a hunter’s trail and tracked it into the mountains. He was thankful for the warm summer air that carried the exuberant courting songs of crickets and bullfrogs. Their ever-present melodies soothed his shattered nerves and kept his mind off the dangers they faced.

“We should find a river or a road,” said Eddie. “They always lead somewhere.”

Rogers shook his head. “True, but they also increase our risk of exposure. This environment is challenging but offers us some cover.”

They hiked for about an hour but the ridges and hills made for a slow journey through the dense wilderness.

“I need a break,” Eddie gasped.  

Rogers checked the map. “The sooner we get out of these woods, the better.”

Eddie sat on a fallen tree and heaved for breath. “Five minutes. The rough terrain is jarring my shoulder. Please, just a short break?”

Rogers looked pained but conceded. “Five minutes, but no more. I’d like to stay as far ahead of the Reptilians as possible.”

The mention of pursuing Reptilians spoiled Eddie’s respite. “I’m with you on that. Say, now that we have a hot minute, can you answer a few….”

Rogers held up an index finger to his wiry lips. “Shh…”

Eddie froze.

“Be still and don’t make a sound,” said Rogers. “Do you hear that soft hum?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, I … Wait! Yes, I do hear it! What is it?”

“It’s a Black Triangle,” Rogers replied. “Like the one that blew up your club.”

Dry-heaves tickled the back of Eddie’s throat.

Rogers sprinted to a promontory rock formation and ducked beneath an overhang. He waved for Eddie to follow and join him. No sooner than Eddie darted beneath the rock, an ominous triangle floated across the sky.

“They’re looking for us,” Rogers whispered. “We need to stay out of the open.”

The craft floated just above the leafy canopy until it disappeared out of sight.

“You’d think they’d have thermal imaging or something on those things,” said Eddie.

Rogers nodded. “They do, but my watch emits a cloaking signal that scrambles everything within ten feet of me and renders it invisible to their technology.”

“So why did we hide?” Eddie asked.

Rogers pointed to his eyes. “They know we have the cloaking technology. They’re relying on visual acuity to spot us. They can see better at night than we can in broad daylight. The good news is they passed over us fairly quickly, which means they weren’t really searching this area. They probably think we made for the highway rather than brave the harsh wilderness terrain.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” said Eddie.

“While we’re taking a breather, how is your shoulder?” Rogers asked. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive of your injury a moment ago.”

Eddie touched the tender flesh near his wound. Direct contact was impossible to bear. “Hurts like a son of a bitch.”

Rogers reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a flask. “This should help.”              

Eddie took the flask from the Director and twisted the top off. He drank a quick shot of the whiskey within. “Jim Beam?”

Rogers nodded. “Great palette, but I meant for you to clean your shoulder with it.”

“Oh,” Eddie replied.

“You good to keep going?” Rogers asked. He crawled from beneath the overhang.

Eddie joined him. “No, but it’s better than waiting around here for them to finish the job.”

“If there’s an upside to being shot with a Reptilian blaster, it’s that there’s no blood,” Rogers replied. “Instantly cauterized.”

“Doesn’t make it hurt less, though,” Eddie replied.

They spotted more black triangles over the next couple of hours. The Gray grew wise to their plan of using the wilderness for cover and increased their flyover patrols. The game of predator and prey intensified throughout the night. The fugitives followed a deer trail along a ridge and faced a tough choice. The meadow valley below stretched toward a small town’s distant glow. The trail continued around the steep, rocky mountainside.

“We stick to the ridge,” said Rogers.

Eddie was tired of walking and running and fleeing and being a target. “We can reach the town in half the time if we take the valley.”

“The Gray can spot us easily in that open meadow,” Rogers replied. He continued along the ridge and disappeared into the darkness, the light from his watch his sole source of illumination. The Director was either extremely brave or nuts, maybe both.

Eddie followed because he didn’t want to be alone. He peeked over his shoulder for a final glimpse of the town’s inviting glow as it faded behind the ridge. He caught up with Rogers and lit the path with the flashlight.

The deer trail cut across the ridge and through the woods. Rogers nudged Eddie to follow it.

“So, how long have you been doing this EGAD thing?” Eddie asked.

Rogers shot him a stern look. “Sorry, my friend, but that information is classified.”

“Just making conversation,” Eddie replied.

“Conversation our lizard-faced friends are likely to hear miles away,” Rogers added. “Speak only when necessary.”

They walked a little farther, and curiosity got the best of Eddie again. “Do you have a family, Rogers? A wife and maybe some kids you go home to at night?”

Rogers sighed. 

“Classified or too much talking?” Eddie asked.

“Both,” Rogers replied.

Eddie trudged along. “Aren’t you the open book?”

“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I do not exist,” Rogers explained. 

Eddie shuddered at the thought of such a lonely life. “Don’t you want more?”

“Don’t you?” Rogers asked. “This is what I was born to do, Mr. King. What about you? Did you always want to be a tribute artist?”

It made Eddie happy that Rogers used the term “tribute artist” instead of “impersonator.” “I’ve always been a fan, but I write my own stuff too.”

“You don’t perform it in your shows,” Rogers countered.

Eddie was taken aback by the unexpected comment. “And how would you know?”

“Please,” Rogers replied. “I’ve seen your show at least a dozen times and have never heard an original song.”

“That’s not what the audience wants,” Eddie answered. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised or pleased that Rogers came to his shows. “They pay to see Elvis, not Eddie.”

“That’s too bad,” Rogers replied. “You have a good voice, son.”

“Thank you,” Eddie beamed. It was nice for someone to compliment his voice without a comparison to the King’s. It also surprised him that Rogers neglected his own rule about talking. It was likely he simply didn’t wish to talk about himself, but the conversation passed the time and calmed Eddie’s nerves.

“So, what’s Priscilla’s story?” Eddie asked, hoping he wasn’t too obvious.

“That’s her story to tell or not,” Rogers shot back.

Eddie nodded. “Fair enough. Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Rogers stepped on a stick. It cracked like a gunshot. “If I know Priscilla, the Reptilians will be ready to give her back soon. Taken a liking to her, huh?”

Eddie’s face flushed. “We had a good time before you guys dropped this bombshell on me and blew my life all to hell.”

“You two are quite the pair,” Rogers replied. “You avoid love with promiscuity, and she uses work as an excuse.”

The conversation reminded Eddie too much of his last one with Hank. “I don’t do love.”

“Everybody needs love,” Rogers replied.

An owl flew across the path and startled them.

“Jesus!” said Eddie. He dropped the flashlight, and the path went dark.

“Careful,” Rogers admonished. “Not so loud.”

Eddie retrieved the flashlight from beneath a raspberry bush and composed himself. “Isn’t it hypocritical of you to say everyone needs love? You said you don’t have anyone.”

Rogers shook his head. “I said nothing of the sort.”

“So you do have someone to go home to at night!” Eddie was proud of himself for dragging information out of Rogers. He was a tough nut to crack.

“Not exactly,” Rogers replied. “We see one another when we can. She comes here; I go there.”

“So where’s “there”? Eddie asked.

Rogers smiled. “The third planet orbiting the Vega system.”

Eddie’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve visited another planet?”

“Twenty-three of them so far,” Rogers replied with not a hint of his usual pompous banter. “There are still a few on my bucket list.”

“You’re bullshitting me again,” said Eddie.

Rogers shook his head. “Not this time, Mr. King. Her name is Paleyia. She’s a sweet, gentle soul who is intrigued by humanity’s destiny. Her interest was purely scientific at first, but then we hit it off. She gives me a hard time about the age gap.”

“You robbing the cradle, Rogers?” Eddie teased.

Rogers shook his head. “She has about twenty-four hundred earth years on me.”

“Your girlfriend was four-hundred years old when Christ walked the earth?” Eddie asked.

“A fact I don’t let her forget,” Rogers replied. “But we were discussing you. Everybody needs love, my young friend. Familial love, brotherly love, romantic love, it gives us the courage to discover ourselves.”

“I love my music,” Eddie replied.

Rogers nodded. “And that’s why you share it with the world?”

“I don’t share it with anybody,” Eddie snapped.

“Exactly!” Rogers replied. “Love gives us the confidence to be our best, to succeed or fail without fear of judgment. You never realize your capacity for greatness until you see yourself reflected in the eyes of someone who loves you.”

Eddie weighed the advice against his own experiences. He observed such love in his audiences. Every show attracted at least one couple that seemed so in love it hurt to look at them. “Can I ask a question? It’s unrelated.”

“You can ask,” Rogers replied. “I’m not sure if I can answer.”

Eddie nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Why was Priscilla reprimanded?” Eddie asked.

Rogers adjusted the orientation on his holographic map. “Picked up on that, did you? Sorry but that’s….”

“Classified,” Eddie replied. “I get it.”

The deer trail led them to a shallow creek that blocked their path. It was too wide to jump. Eddie swept the creek bank for an easy crossing, but the bank was also steep and muddy. Something glimmered in the flashlight’s beam off to his left. A pair of glowing eyes gazed back at him from the ledge on the other side. “Holy…”

“Relax,” said Rogers. “It’s just a deer. Judging by its antlers, I’d say it’s at least three or four years old.”

“You’re a hunter?” Eddie asked.  

Rogers checked the map. “I like to get out into the woods when I can. But I’ll admit, the hunt is certainly more enjoyable on the other side of the gun.”

“Reminds me of that old story, “The Most Dangerous Game,” said Eddie. “Ever read it?”

Rogers nodded. “Of course, I have, Richard Connell! It’s a favorite of mine.”

“And here we are, forced to play Rainsford in this sorry melodrama,” Eddie replied.

“Given your spotty academic background, I wouldn’t take you for an avid reader, Mr. King.”

Eddie was pleased to turn the tables on Rogers for a change. “There’s a lot about me that would surprise you.”

“I doubt it,” Rogers replied. “Remember that thick file you and Priscilla peeked at inside my briefcase?”

Eddie laughed nervously. “We didn’t….”

Rogers raised his hand and cut Eddie off. “Please, Mr. King. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know that you dug through my briefcase?”

Eddie shrugged. “Okay, we may have browsed a page or two.”

“It’s okay,” said Rogers. “Every document in it was related to you anyway. Had you continued to dig through it, you would have found schoolwork as far back as kindergarten. Your high school transcripts were in there, along with your college entry scores, medical records, and even innocuous documents like your application for student parking at the community college you attended. Also, an engagement announcement. Sheila, wasn’t it?”             

That last one was forever a sore spot. “We don’t talk about that,” Eddie replied.

“Still carrying a torch for the ex?” Rogers asked. “It’s common.”

“Only if I can light the bitch on fire with it!” Eddie replied, his arms gesticulated wildly and flooded the woods with light.

The sudden explosion of volume in Eddie’s voice spooked the buck. The deer ran into the brush.

“Great!” Rogers said. “If the Reptilians and Gray didn’t know we were here before, they certainly do now.”

Eddie flipped the flashlight to the off position.

“It’s too late for that now,” said Rogers. “Besides, we need the light to cross the creek safely.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie replied. He turned the flashlight on again. “You poked the bear.”

Rogers nodded. “Obviously. I didn’t mean to….”

Blaster fire seared the head off Eddie’s flashlight. He and Rogers stared wide-eyed at one another.

“Run!” Rogers shouted.

Chapter Twelve

S purred on by the destruction of the flashlight in his hand, Eddie waded headlong into the cold mountain stream. The water was shin-deep and soaked his tennis shoes, but he knew firsthand that frozen feet were preferable to blaster fire. Had he known moments before that the stream was so frigid, he would have splashed his shoulder with it. But the opportunity for self-care was lost, ceded to the frantic scramble for self-preservation. All that mattered was staying alive.

Eddie discarded the flashlight casing in the cold water and scrambled to the other side. The bank there was steep and covered in slippery, wet grass tamped down by a perpetual procession of deer hooves. He latched onto an exposed root protruding from the muddy ground, but his injury made it difficult to pull himself up. Blaster fire exploded just feet away to his left and splattered mud on his face. Better mud than blood, particularly his own. He frantically searched the muddy bank again for a more accessible crossing but found none.

A hand descended from the ledge above him. It was Rogers.

Eddie wasn’t sure how the Director wriggled to the top so quickly but was grateful for the assist. With the Director’s help, he conquered the slippery creek bank just as blaster fire peppered the spot he vacated.

They rushed to cover behind nearby trees and searched the woods on the opposite side of the creek. Darkness made it difficult to pinpoint their Reptilian foe.

Eddie raised his blaster rifle and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He stared at the gun. Did he grab a damaged one?

Rogers lowered the barrel of Eddie’s gun. “The safety’s on but don’t fire. It’ll make it easy for them to pinpoint us,” he whispered.

Eddie was grateful for his ignorance of the Reptilian technology. He returned the rifle to his back.

Blaster fire obliterated a nearby tree and set it ablaze. More importantly, it helped them locate the Reptilian.

Confident of his foe’s location, Rogers returned fire. “Run, I’ll be right behind you.”

For once, Eddie complied with the order exactly as Rogers gave it. Every so often, the Director stopped behind him and peppered the woods with blaster fire. Whether the blasts felled their foes or not, the volley slowed their relentless pursuit. Then the blasters fell silent.

Eddie peered over his shoulder and searched for Rogers, but the moonlit darkness and thick foliage limited his visibility. Had the Reptilians killed the Director? Eddie never dreamed he’d want to see that smug grin so badly, but the thought of being alone in a harsh wilderness teeming with Reptilians hellbent on his demise was far worse.

If Rogers was dead, then it was up to Eddie to protect himself. He removed the blaster from his back and nursed it with both hands as he scrambled through the trees. He still had no idea how to use it but holding it felt safe. If nothing else, it was a great club!

Eddie picked his way through the woods, spurred on by heavy footfalls approaching rapidly. It had to be Reptilians! He peered over his shoulder for a split second and slammed headlong into a tree. He hit the ground hard and dropped the blaster. He likely sustained a concussion from being knocked out earlier; his brain could ill-afford a second rattling.

The violent collisions with both the tree and the ground left him gasping for breath. But it was his wounded shoulder that took the brunt of the fall. The pain was unbearable, but he bit his tongue, lest his screams attract the Reptilians. He tried to stand, but his shaky knees buckled. He looked up with blurry eyes and fell to his backside.

It was no oak, birch, or maple that blocked his path. 

A giant, hairy beast loomed over him and regarded him with great curiosity. The creature stood at least eight feet tall. Coarse brown fur covered the beast from its head to its massive feet. The matted blanket of hair glistened in the moonlight and smelled worse than skunk poop. The ape-like creature stood upright on two legs like a man and snarled.

Eddie was too frightened to breathe. The thoughts of Reptilians retreated to the back of his mind.

The beast’s heavy panting drowned out the timpani thundering within Eddie’s chest. The low, guttural growl that percolated in its throat sounded like the gates of hell itself creaking open. It threw back its head and howled to the heavens. The blood-curdling scream reverberated off every ridge for miles and forced Eddie to cover his ears. He imagined the coroner trying to solve the mystery of why he died with his hands over his ears.

Frightened shoe-heels dug into the loose dirt with a life of their own and pawed furiously to escape the creature. Clumps of wild grass tore loose in his hands. The futile, Herculean effort to scramble to safety netted roughly two feet of ground between him and the monster but left him farther away from his blaster.

Eddie backed into a White Oak and accepted his fate. He reached the end of the line and just hoped for a swift death. 

Just when the beast seemed primed to attack, it reached into its thick carpet of damp, smelly fur and retrieved a patch of leather suspended between three long cords. He swung the contraption over his head. It was an old-fashioned sling.

Except there was nothing old-fashioned about it.

The monster whirled the sling faster and faster until tracking the spiraling cords was like singling out a lone helicopter blade in mid-flight. A thick, blue spark leaped from the circumference to the center and swelled into a ball of super-charged energy. It crackled above the beast’s head, and he unleashed his weapon’s fury. The electrified ball of lightning slammed into the chest of an incoming Reptilian.

A gunshot cracked the mountain air. It had to be Rogers. Something must have happened to his blaster. With one eye on the hulking creature, Eddie shouted into the woods, “Rogers? Is that you? I could use a little help here!”

A second deadly bolt zipped from the beast’s sling. Another Reptilian gasped its final breath and slumped to the forest floor with a sickening thud. Was the creature rescuing him from the Reptilians or preserving him for breakfast the next morning?

Rogers walked into the clearing and holstered his gun. “Thanks for the assist, Frank.”

Eddie was wrong earlier. He didn’t miss the Director’s smug grin one bit.

The sling fell limp at the creature’s side. Its lips twisted into a gruesome aberration of a smile. “Anytime, Rogers. I heard chatter about the train wreck and was visiting the family, so I was nearby. You would have done the same for me.”

Rogers nodded. “But I wouldn’t have scared our young friend here shitless!”

A hearty laugh erupted from the creature’s throat.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and ducked behind Rogers. He pointed to the being Rogers so casually referred to as “Frank.” “He’s… a Bigfoot!”

Rogers winced. “Careful with the b-word. It’s offensive.”

“I’ll let that one go, kid, but for future reference, we prefer the term, “Sasquatch American,” the creature shot back. “Name’s Frank.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped open. “And you can talk!”

Frank’s furry paw covered his mouth and drew attention to his impossibly wide-open eyes that feigned surprise. “So can you! Oh, the horror!”

Eddie shook Rogers’ shoulder. “He can talk, and he’s a Big….”

“You didn’t tell me he was a racist,” Frank said to Rogers.

Rogers brushed the comment aside. “He’s just ignorant and in shock. You’re probably the first Sasquatch the kid’s ever seen.”

Eddie’s lips trembled.  “Sorry, I don’t mean to offend. Yes, you’re the first Sasquatch I’ve met. I’m Eddie.”

“I’ve read your file,” Frank answered. He peered past Eddie to Rogers. “He doesn’t look like much. Are you sure you got the right guy?”

“Give him time,” Rogers replied. “The Starseed hasn’t manifested yet.”

Frank sighed and walked away into the woods. “Unimpressive even by human standards. No offense.”

“None taken,” both Eddie and Rogers replied.

“I was talking to Rogers,” Frank grumbled. He sniffed the air. “Reptilians on the wind, approaching from the southwest. We’d better make ourselves scarce before they find their dead friends. Follow me.”

It wasn’t a request. Though the idea of rambling into a dark forest after an opinionated Bigf… Sasquatch terrified him, Eddie complied. Besides, the home team could use a big, scary creature of its own.  

“The chopper you requested is in the air now,” said Frank. “It should arrive soon.”

Eddie strained to hear the familiar staccato burst of helicopter blades, but the night air remained still. Frank’s hearing was obviously far superior to that of a human.

“How far to the chopper?” Rogers replied. His watch beeped. “Never mind, I just received a message from the pilot. You okay back there, Eddie?”

A million thoughts bombarded Eddie’s brain. No, he was most certainly not “okay.” He likely had a concussion, or ten, and was a good candidate for a burn unit. He grieved for his fallen mentor, but there was no time to deal with his loss. And he worried about Priscilla. The real question was whether or not he would be “okay” ever again.

Eddie could have said any of that or just replied with a simple, “I’m fine.” Unfortunately, he failed to choke the impetuous reply that dripped from his brain and spilled onto his tongue. “I have to pee.”

“You’re kidding?” Frank asked. “We’re running for our lives, and you need to take a piss? Can’t you hold it?”

“I…” Eddie spat awkwardly. “I’ve held it since the train. When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

“Fine!” Frank shot back. “But you do it here so we can keep an eye on you!”

Eddie pointed to a tree. “I don’t think so, big guy! That tree! Right over there! I’m going to step behind it for a little privacy if you don’t mind!”

Frank shook his head. “I’ve never understood the human desire for solitude when nature calls! When the urge strikes my people, we go wherever we are.”

“And it smells like it too,” Eddie replied.

Frank growled.

“Did I mention how unwise it is to upset a Sasquatch?” Rogers interjected. “They can tear a man’s arms from his body as easily as you peel a banana.”

“Legs too,” Frank laughed. “Bananas as well if they happen to dangle.”

Eddie gulped and ducked behind the tree. He unzipped and anointed a nearby bush with a blissful stream of urine. There was no reason to pee on the bush, but it made him feel good. The entire universe delighted in pissing on him since he found himself on EGAD’s radar. It was exhilarating to be the pisser for a change. He didn’t realize he had to go so badly. Sometimes a good pee was even better than sex if forced to hold it long enough. He closed his eyes and treasured the prosaic moment. For a precious couple of minutes, he was just a guy peeing in the woods.

A snicker erupted from the laurels a few yards away. He hastily finished his business and tucked his manhood back into his pants. Unfortunately, he also caught his foreskin in his zipper and unleashed a blood-curdling scream that put Frank to shame. He unzipped and tried again. 

Frank and Rogers rushed to his side as he put away his wounded Johnson.

“Are you okay?” Rogers shouted. “Were you shot?’

Eddie was still doubled over and pointed to the laurel thicket. “Someone’s in there, and no, they didn’t shoot me. I snagged my foreskin in my zipper when I heard them...” His ego cut the thought short in mid-sentence. The last thing he wanted to admit to his allies was that the unknown entity laughed at his penis.

Rogers pointed his gun into the thicket. “Come out with your hands above your head!”

The laurels didn’t move.

“Now, or I pull the trigger and fire blind,” Rogers added. “I don’t care who I hit!”

A second Sasquatch stepped out from the laurels with its hands in the air. Its hair was lighter than Frank’s. It looked scared. A much smaller and obviously younger creature sidled up to it and wrapped its arms around the larger creature’s waist.  

“Don’t shoot, Rogers,” the bigger Sasquatch stammered as it stepped into the moonlight. “It’s just me.”

Rogers dropped his gun and sighed. “For God’s sake, Ethel! You scared the hell out of us! We thought you were a Reptilian.”

Ethel put her hands on her hips emphatically. “Well, I never! And I thought we were friends, Rogers! To think you’ve been in our home! We even danced together at the Christmas party last year!”

“Forgive our old friend, my dear,” said Frank. “He’s a little on edge, protecting the Starseed and all.”

Rogers pleaded for forgiveness with a dumb shrug.

Ethel looked Eddie up and down. “We’re pinning Earth’s hopes on this guy?”

“Never mind that,” said Frank. “What are you doing here? And you brought Tricia along too?”

The younger Sasquatch stepped forward. Eddie had zero experience with Sasquatch, but body language was universal, like that of a kid who knew she was in trouble. “Don’t blame Momma. It’s not her fault. I wanted to see the Starseed.”

“And we saw a little more of him than we bargained for,” Ethel added. “And I do mean a “little.” It’s a wonder you humans can reproduce at all!”

Eddie’s face burned hotter than his shoulder. Could death at the hands of the Reptilians be any crueler a fate? 

Rogers choked off a snicker and regained his composure. “This area is no place for civilians, ladies. These woods are crawling with Reptilians gunning for Mr. King here.”

Tricia’s face wrinkled. “But he’s the Starseed! Can’t he just zap them all?”

Frank looked away. It wasn’t until he replied to his daughter that Eddie realized the Sasquatch wasn’t embarrassed for himself.

“He hasn’t manifested yet,” Frank explained in a whisper so loud every Reptilian in a three-mile radius probably heard it too.

Ethel looked Eddie over. “So Earth’s fate rests upon the shoulders of an out-of-shape, middle-aged human with barely enough reproductive organs to propagate his species?”

“And no Starseed,” said a deflated Tricia.

Frank shook his head. “At least not yet.”

The undergrowth rattled, and Rogers drew his gun once more. Ethel and Tricia took cover behind Frank.

“There are more of us than there are of you,” Rogers shouted into the darkness while staring down his gun.

Frank drew his sling, which reminded Eddie of the blaster strapped to his back. He pointed it into the woods and realized he still didn’t know how to disarm the safety. He hoped the sight of the additional firepower was intimidating enough.

The foliage ruffled. A single Reptilian stepped from the thicket with its hands raised. It tossed a blaster to the ground. “I doubt that, human! Surrender the Starseed, and the rest of you may live!”

“That’s not going to happen, my Reptilian friend. You’ll kill us anyway,” Rogers replied.

A slithering hiss emanated from the Reptilian’s tongue. Was it laughter? “You are right, but I hoped to enjoy that desperate, confused look on your faces when you processed the betrayal.”

“Daddy, I’m scared,” said Tricia.

“Stay behind me, sweetheart,” Frank replied. “This abomination won’t touch you if he knows what’s good for him.”

Frank’s family huddled behind him.

The Reptilian laughed again. “Strong words from an overgrown monkey about to die.”

“In case you didn’t notice, friend,” said Rogers. “We’re the ones holding the guns, and you’re the one with his hands in the air.”

The Reptilian nodded his scaly head. Did it ever blink? “Agreed, but I’m not alone, and my friends are most definitely armed.” He bared a set of terrible fangs that angled back into his mouth like a serpent’s. “To the teeth, so to speak.”

Nine Reptilians stepped from the cover of the night with their weapons trained on Eddie and his allies. They surrounded the ragtag band of humans and Sasquatch. Eddie took note of how they held their blasters and counted it a victory he wielded his correctly.

“It appears the advantage is now ours,” the Reptilian hissed. “It is your turn to drop your weapons, human.”

Rogers smiled. “It does appear that way, but looks are often deceiving. Have you considered the possibility that we have even more allies surrounding you?”

“We are familiar with the concept you humans call “bluffing,” the Reptilian replied. “Such tactics will not work to your advantage!”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Rogers asked. “I thought I was stalling, you know, for just a little more time until I could think of a plan. A bluff is more of a deception. The difference is subtle, but the error is common. I can see why you would think ….”

The Reptilian shook with rage. “Do not jest with me, human, or we’ll test the value of the precious few seconds you bought! Tell me, what is the exchange rate between chicanery and death?”

Rogers and the Reptilian stared one another down.

“Allow the females to leave,” Rogers demanded.

The Reptilian cocked his head and laughed. “And why would I do that? I’ve never savored the dying screams of a young female Sasquatch. I bet they are blissful!”

Frank’s heavy brow furrowed. “Touch one hair on her body, and I will tear your still-beating, cold-blooded hearts out of your chests with my bare hands!”

The Reptilians relished Frank’s anger, Eddie not so much. 

“Guys, is it wise to piss off the scary lizard people?” Eddie asked. “There are more of them than there are of us.”

“Perhaps there is a Starseed in this one after all,” the inner-earth dweller laughed. “He demonstrates far more wisdom than the rest of you combined, even if the stench of humanity defiles him as well.” The Reptilian pressed his face in close to Rogers’. “Now, drop your weapons.”

A familiar smug smile erupted across Rogers’ lips and flowered impossibly wide.

“Don’t be stupid,” Eddie begged. “Let’s just drop our guns and negotiate.”               

Frank gripped his sling. “You do realize you will be the first one they kill, right? After all, you’re the reason we’re out here in the first place.”

“Drop our weapons?” Rogers added. “Come now, Mr. King! And miss all this fun?”              

Eddie groaned. “You call this fun? These guys mean business! Stop taunting them, and maybe we get out of this mess….”

He was about to add “alive” to the sentence when a horde of howling Sasquatch rushed from the woods and stormed the Reptilians. They carried no fancy weapons, but their surprise attack was no less lethal. A Reptilian closest to the tree line was the first to fall. A Sasquatch clubbed him to death with a tree branch before he knew what hit him. A melee erupted. Frank sent his family into the woods. 

Reptilian faced off against human and Sasquatch. Bones cracked. Laser sliced through sinew and nerve with indiscriminate yet surgical precision. Combatants on both sides shrieked in anguish at the wanton violence inflicted upon them. Blood flowed freely. Both Reptilian and Sasquatch were many times stronger than the average human. Their errant blows shattered trees. Haymakers ended lives when they landed true. 

Eddie froze like a statue and searched for Rogers. He engaged with a Reptilian, and Eddie saw firsthand why Priscilla warned him against raising a hand against the Director. He tossed the hapless Reptilian around using judo throws and karate. His attacks netted little more than self-defense but kept the Reptilian at bay and inflamed his already rosy disposition.

Finally, the angry creature latched onto Rogers and crushed him in a bear hug. Rogers’ human strength was no match for the Reptilian. Rather than struggling to break the creature’s grip, Rogers somehow slipped his pistol beneath its chin and pulled the trigger. The Reptilian staggered and released him. Rogers fell to the forest floor. The Reptilian stumbled to one knee but still scrambled to its feet faster than the Director. 

Blaster fire ripped through a wounded Sasquatch’s midsection. The dying creature let out a blood-curdling scream before he fell. Another Sasquatch crushed a Reptilian’s skull with a large rock. The creature’s head exploded like a water balloon. Frank took down two Reptilians at once with his sling. 

Eddie turned his attention back to Rogers, the only other human in the melee. The Reptilian pinned him to the ground. Eddie slid his useless blaster off his back and ran toward them. He jumped onto the creature’s back and locked the gun underneath the Reptilian’s chin.

Ignoring the smoldering fire in his shoulder, Eddie choked the stunned creature with all his might. His scaly adversary butted the back of its head into Eddie’s nose and bloodied it. The Reptilian’s armor-plated skin hurt even worse in real life than it did in Eddie’s concussed dream, but he held on. If he ever made it to a safe place, he would need a bottle of aspirin. 

“It is our understanding the Starseed grants the host great wisdom,” the Reptilian hissed as he struggled to breathe with the gun cutting off his oxygen supply. “That is clearly an exaggeration.” He staggered to his feet and focused on dislodging the pest from his back.

Eddie locked his feet behind the creature’s thighs and did his best to crush the Reptilian’s windpipe. The Reptilian stopped trying to sling Eddie off his back and turned his attention to extricating the gun from beneath his scaly neck. He was powerful, but the leverage belonged to Eddie. 

The Reptilian realized his human foe inexplicably held the advantage over him and reverted to the previous strategy. He twirled and whirled, but Eddie clung desperately to a creature that paralyzed him with fear at the sight of it. The Scrambler ride at Dollywood was nowhere near as terrifying as the flailing adventure on the Reptilian’s back.

Through it all, Eddie wondered if the Starseed drove him to attack or if it was blatant stupidity. He finally decided stupidity was more his style.              

The angry Reptilian tried to ram Eddie into a hickory tree and sandwich him between its scaly body and the unforgiving hardwood.

Eddie used their combined momentum and reversed their positions at the last moment. The creature’s head slammed into the tree instead. The blow staggered the inner-earth dweller but also jarred the blaster loose from beneath its throat. Eddie quickly applied a sleeper hold he learned watching Smoky Mountain Wrestling. It was nowhere near as effective as choking the monster with the blaster, but he held on.

The thrashing Reptilian clawed and punched at him, but Eddie was in the one spot that made it difficult for the Reptilian to land a solid blow. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie saw Rogers climb to a knee. Color rushed back into the Director’s face as he gulped air into his lungs. His eyes grew wide at the sight of Eddie wrestling with the Reptilian. “Mr. King! We’re supposed to be protecting you! What the hell are you doing?”

Eddie wondered the same thing himself. He initially fancied himself a rodeo cowboy perched on the back of a bucking Mustang. He realized he probably looked more like a rodeo clown in desperate need of a barrel. “Saving you a dance! Feel free to cut in anytime!”

Rogers steadied himself and drew his pistol but spotted the blaster rifle Eddie dropped moments before and holstered his gun. He retrieved the high-powered laser weapon and trained it on the Reptilian. “I’d say your eight-second ride is over, Mr. King!”

Eddie understood. He released his hold and dropped to the ground. 

The angry Reptilian whipped around and loomed over Eddie. He hissed, and Eddie’s blood ran cold. “Releasing me will prove to be your last mistake, Starseed!”

“Hey, horny-toad!” Rogers shouted.

The Reptilian whipped his head around just in time for Rogers to vaporize it clean off his shoulders. Its decapitated body dropped to the ground next to Eddie.

Rogers mouthed the word, “Wow!” and admired the blaster with awe. “I have to get myself another one of these! I dropped mine back there while you introduced yourself to Frank.”

Sasquatch joined the fight from what seemed like everywhere. Their numbers overwhelmed the remaining Reptilians until a lone combatant remained, the one who threatened Frank’s daughter.

Rogers trained Eddie’s blaster on the Reptilian. “On your knees, nice and slow!”

Frank grabbed another of the fallen Reptilians’ blasters and tossed it to Eddie.

“Shouldn’t we keep one of them alive?” Eddie asked. “You know, to interrogate them?” It seemed a reasonable course of action. “That’s what they do in every action movie I’ve ever seen.”

Rogers shook his head. “Three things you need to know; One, a prisoner will only slow us down. Two, Reptilians are notorious for not talking anyway, and three….”

Frank grabbed the Reptilian’s head in his hands and snapped its neck. The broken bones cracked the cool night air.

“Three, this one’s dead,” Frank added. He slung the Reptilian’s lifeless body to the ground. “Threaten my daughter again, you scaly son of a bitch!”

Rogers shrugged nonchalantly, undaunted by the death and destruction. “Excellent third point, old friend!” The Director scavenged another Reptilian blaster for himself and snagged a spare. “For our scientists to reverse engineer.”

“So now what?” Eddie asked.

Frank pointed to the woods. “The chopper’s nearby. We’ll escort you the rest of the way.”             

Chapter Thirteen

P riscilla opened her eyes to a dull ache at the base of her skull. Her first instinct was to massage away the throbbing pain, but she couldn’t move her arms or legs. She was strapped to a metal slab and prepped for medical examination. The gruesome tortures that occurred on such tables were legendary in Earth Guard circles for all the wrong reasons. She embraced her training and tamped down the urge to panic. The best way to quash her fears was to ascertain her situation; knowledge was power. The more she knew, the more likely she was to survive.

A dim light illuminated the small room. A single earthen wall loomed behind Priscilla, a sure sign she was underground. The remaining walls were mold-infested concrete slabs blackened with neglect. Steel beams crisscrossed the ceiling and lent credence to her theory she was beneath the Earth’s surface. Rows of monitors flickered when they updated with new data. Each shift in their light pattern scattered increasingly ominous shadows around the room. 

Priscilla wore only underwear and goosebumps, neither of which did much to protect her from the cold, damp air. She was in no significant pain beyond the headache and bruises she sustained in her failed attempt to fight off the Reptilians. An overpowering sterile odor, almost antiseptic, choked the dank, clammy room.

The hard plastic that bound her wrists was known as Malicium. It was a lightweight composite the Gray used in the construction of their spacecraft. EGAD scientists couldn’t replicate it because its manufacture relied so heavily upon unstable elements whose mysteries remained unsolved by man. Denser samples of the material could withstand the impact of space debris and were impervious to atmospheric heat. Priscilla’s chances of breaking her bonds were nil.

A medical monitoring device made from the same material bound her ankles. A canopy shell snapped into a lower half that locked together like old-fashioned stocks in a public square. A built-in monitor logged her every movement and was the source of the loud, steady beep that announced her vitals with every heartbeat.

< “Agent Day, you awaken!” > said a voice inside her head.

Moments later, a pair of dark, almond-shaped eyes hovered over her. The proximity of the large, protruding oculi exaggerated the Gray’s cranium, making it appear abnormally large even by its species’ standards. Its face tapered toward a long, narrow chin. The creature had no discernible lips and only a tiny slit for a mouth.

“I should have known the Reptilians couldn’t pull this off without their puppet-masters yanking their strings behind the scenes,” Priscilla spat. 

< “Come now, Agent Day! Such hyperbole is unbecoming, even to a primitive species such as yours,” > the alien replied. His dark eyes glowed white when speaking telepathically.

“What do you want with me?” Priscilla asked. “Why am I still alive?”

< “A situation that we can swiftly remedy, I assure you,” > the alien answered.

“Get out of my head!” Priscilla shouted. The unwelcome nudge of telepathic activity pummeled her foggy brain like a jackhammer.

The alien disappeared but returned with another of his kind that was taller. The Tall Gray’s deference to his companion made it clear who was in charge. 

The Gray locked eyes and occasionally nodded back and forth to one another.

Priscilla hated telepathy.

“You wish to converse verbally?” the Short Gray asked.

Priscilla must have been projecting her thoughts. She had to be more careful. “Please.”

“Very well. It seems the bumbling Reptilians failed to eliminate the Starseed,” the Short Gray replied. “You will tell us where to find him.”

“Eddie’s alive?” Priscilla asked. That was great news! When she saw him last, the Reptilians blasted him. His limp body careened down the mound of fallen debris, where they made their final stand in the train tunnel. She assumed he was dead when the Reptilians took her. 

“His health is not your concern,” the Short Gray replied. “But let’s discuss yours.” An electrical blast leaped from his fingertips and struck her body.

The jolt arched Priscilla’s back and slammed her head into the table beneath her. There was nothing to do but ride out the onslaught and wait for it to end. It was bad enough the Gray enjoyed technological superiority over humans, but for them to also possess bioelectrogenic capabilities was evolutionary inequality at its worst. 

At last, the aggression subsided. Even the fine, blonde hairs on Priscilla’s arms hurt.

“I will ask again,” said the Gray. “Where did Rogers take the Starseed?”

“What makes you think I know?” Priscilla panted.

The alien’s second assault was substantially more draconian than the previous one. Priscilla’s electrified body thrashed involuntarily against her restraints. Her left shoulder slipped out of its socket and back into place.

The assault finally ended, and the patient alien waited for Priscilla to catch her breath and gather her senses before he spoke again. 

“We are well aware of your position within EGAD. I have no tolerance for gamesmanship or coy deception,” the Short Gray replied. “Answer our questions, and we may yet allow you to live.”

Priscilla jabbed her fingernails into the palms of her hands so the pain would keep her awake. “And why would you do that?”

The Tall Gray adjusted the monitor at her feet. “To offer you in exchange for the Starseed.”

At least Priscilla knew why she was alive. They hoped to leverage her value as Second Commander, which meant they were reluctant to kill her in the short term. It was an errant strategy. The Starseed was far more valuable than any single agent, even Director Rogers. But if their misconception kept her alive, she would play along. “You’ll get nothing from me.”

“Of course we will,” the Short Gray assured her. He moved away from the table. “Humans are easily broken. Your species possesses an exceptionally low threshold for torture compared to inhabitants from worlds with similar physiology. So yes, you will break. The unknown variable in the equation is the amount of pain required to accomplish the task. Your species’ lack of fortitude is appalling yet quite useful.”

“And your arrogance is every bit as appalling,” Priscilla countered. “Unfortunately, we’ve found little value for your talents.”

The aliens ignored the insult and busied themselves with preparations. The Tall Gray flipped a switch by the door. A device on the ceiling glided along a track and settled directly overhead. It reminded Priscilla of a fluoroscope imaging apparatus in a radiology clinic. The Gray lowered the device into place a couple of feet above Priscilla’s face.

Another flip of the switch and bright light flooded her eyes. Regardless of planet or species, some conventions varied little. Torture was among those institutions. Disorienting a prisoner with a powerful light source was one of the oldest tricks in the book. Priscilla resolved not to aid in her own interrogation. Instead, she scanned the room before she lost the ability to focus her gaze beyond the brilliant glow.

The crude, dirt-and-rock wall behind her meant Priscilla was still on Earth. The Gray wouldn’t operate underground in such a crude facility if they were on a planet under their dominion.              

Surgical instruments were meticulously placed on a metal tray near the examination table for subliminal motivation. The purpose of most was to slice flesh or saw through bone, but the tooth extractor unnerved Priscilla the most. She was a dentophobe from her childhood days.

The aliens were unarmed, likely due to their arrogant reliance on bioelectrogenic abilities. Priscilla pocketed the tidbits of information in case she somehow freed herself.

A large, digital map of North America sprawled across the wall next to the door. Colored pinpricks of light marked some of the geographical locations. Based on known intelligence, Priscilla surmised the red lights represented U.S. military bases, the blue ones were for EGAD installations, white lights marked the Gray strongholds, and green ones represented the Reptilian conclaves. She spied an unknown Reptilian fortification near the Black Hills of South Dakota.

It was also a surprise to learn the aliens didn’t know the location of EGAD’s main headquarters. Priscilla would pass the information along if she made it out alive.

The Tall Gray readied a large needle. He held it inches from Priscilla’s face and made a show of filling the syringe with an unknown drug. Each movement was meticulous and exaggerated for her benefit. The intention was to provoke fear.

“Does the sight of such an imposing needle discomfort you, human?” the Short Gray asked. “Typical human psychological reaction, to focus on the delivery system when it is the drug that should concern you. I believe you refer to this particular concoction as a psychoactive drug, a truth serum.”

“You know where you can stick your needle,” Priscilla replied. 

It wasn’t the cleverest of insults and went over the Gray’s head anyway, as did most human colloquialisms. Such colorful language was absent from their vernacular, likely due to their preference for communicating via telepathic imagery. The Tall Gray lowered the needle to Priscilla’s abdomen. She gritted her teeth and steeled herself for the pain to follow.

“You realize there is an easier way to do this?” asked the Tall Gray. He raked the tip of the needle across Priscilla’s exposed belly button. “Where will they take the Starseed?”

Priscilla’s stomach recoiled from the needle until she could suck it in no further. She worried about the drug. Their foes didn’t know the location of EGAD headquarters. She needed to keep it that way. 

“You still refuse to be forthcoming?” the Short Gray asked. He nodded to his companion, and the taller alien plunged the needle into Priscilla’s navel. She stifled her screams and refused to reward the Gray’s sadism with any outward display of her agony.  The plunger lowered into the syringe and forced the liquid from the needle’s tip. Fire spread through her abdomen. No amount of special training could prepare a human being for the inferno that coursed through her veins. The alien finally, mercifully, withdrew the needle and left her insides to burn. 

The drug’s calming effect was almost immediate. Priscilla welcomed the numbing wave that rushed through her veins in its wake. She wasn’t sure what cocktail the Gray administered but injecting the psychotropic directly into her abdomen was almost an act of mercy. She doubted compassion was the Gray’s intention, though. They wanted the drug to work quickly.

Priscilla conjured an image of her childhood pet, a mastiff named Petra, sitting by the white picket fence waiting for her at the gate when she stepped off the school bus. He sat on his hind legs and lifted his huge front paws onto her frail, young shoulders. It smelled like death itself lurked beneath the dog’s massive tongue, but the welcome-home kisses made her feel safe.

“Let us begin,” said the Short Gray. “What is your name?”

Three licks from Petra’s wide, flat tongue washed the left side of Priscilla’s face in smelly dog slobber. She clamped onto the memory and savored the scent of that doggy drool to keep her focused on something besides the alien’s voice.

“Marilyn Monroe,” Priscilla grunted.

The alien snatched a handful of her long brown locks and yanked her chin to her chest. “Frivolity will not be tolerated, Agent Day!”

“Go to hell,” Priscilla shot back.

The alien slammed her head into the steel slab. “Insults steeped in your world’s religious imagery mean nothing to me!”

“Maybe not, but they make me feel pretty damn good,” Priscilla spat through tight, clenched teeth. The Gray didn’t often succumb to strong emotion, so she was happy she found her way under her captors’ skin. 

“What is your name, human?” the alien asked again.

Priscilla reverted to the harbor of her childhood. Petra buried his nose in an ever-widening hole. He was determined to root a pesky mole from the ground. Big dogs weren’t usually obsessed with rodents, but Petra detested them. Priscilla’s father hated when he dug up the yard, moles or not. Priscilla tugged at his dirty mane, but the hefty canine was much too strong for a little girl to pull away if he didn’t wish to move.

Petra wasn’t inclined to budge.

“Come on, boy! Pop will kill you if he finds another hole in this yard,” Priscilla warned, but Petra’s all-consuming lust for the nettlesome rodent spurred him to root his nose deeper into the ground. 

“You distract yourself to counter the drug’s effect?” the Short Gray asked. “Unfortunately for you, the drug also renders its victim susceptible to suggestion, particularly when administered via a telepathic nudge.”

A rabbit darted across the yard, and Petra tore out after it. The dog hated rabbits even worse than moles.

“Tell me your name!” the Short Gray demanded.

“No, Petra, come back! Heel boy!” Priscilla shouted. She wasn’t sure if she voiced the command aloud or in her head. She ran after her fleeing pet but stopped long enough to reply, “Priscilla Marie Day.”

“Good,” the alien answered. “Listen to my voice. Forget what’s happening in your head. All that matters is the sound of my voice.”

The alien’s smooth cadence tugged at her drug-addled consciousness. It beckoned Priscilla from the fragile ether of her childhood memories. Petra chased the rabbit through the open gate and tore after it with the grace of a Sherman tank.

Priscilla was left alone in the yard. It became harder to latch onto the once-vivid details of her childhood. Was the house painted white, or was it taupe? Scale and size shifted. The suburban lawn was small, but the steps looked impossibly far away.

Laundry flapped in the breeze on her mother’s clothesline and impeded her view of the front porch. That was impossible because the clothesline was in the backyard. Wasn’t it? The freshly-washed linens danced like ghosts on the placid breeze. The gentle gusts seasoned the sheets with the scent of clean no fabric softener could match.

The wind picked up, and the ghosts grew angry. They flailed even harder when Priscilla tried to peer around them. She needed to keep the house in sight as an anchor lest she divulge the Starseed’s location. Priscilla ran toward the possessed linens and ripped them from the line. Clothespins snapped loose and fell around her feet.

Vertigo claimed her and Priscilla’s world reeled. Where was the old chestnut tree with the tire swing? Gone also was her mother’s birdbath. The holly bushes in the flower bed swarmed with red wasps. But that was wrong too. Were such bushes ever planted in the flowerbed? Did her mother have a flowerbed at all?

Priscilla stumbled headlong into her grandma’s quilt, still hanging on the line. Though many years passed since she put it into storage, Priscilla searched the treasured patchwork for the familiarity stitched into its memories.

A snippet of the baby blanket used to bring her home from the hospital when she was born represented her first birthday. There too, was her Brontosaurus. Her grandma traced her kindergarten drawing of the dinosaur onto a square of cloth and lovingly stitched every detail of her granddaughter’s handiwork onto it.

And of course, she found the addition her own mother sewed to the blanket when grandma passed the summer Priscilla graduated. It contained a square of her grandma’s favorite sweater, the one that smelled like old-lady perfume and butterscotch candies. Priscilla clung to the memories to gird her mind against the alien’s suggestions. 

“And you are an agent of which top-secret organization?” the Short Gray continued.

“I work for the United States Central Bureau of Investigation,” Priscilla replied.

“You are lying,” the alien replied. “No such organization exists within your government! But I must admit I am impressed, Agent Day. Your resistance to the drug is quite remarkable. You are a credit to your species. We shall allow it more time to erode your resolve and continue this conversation then.”

The aliens left the room, or at least Priscilla thought they did. It was hard to be sure of anything while fighting the drug’s influence. One fact remained cemented in her mind; she needed to maintain her wits and escape.              

Chapter Fourteen

T he unmarked Black Ops helicopter cleared a low mountain range and hovered over a military installation somewhere in the southwest's arid flats. Searchlights crisscrossed the obsidian canopy and directed the chopper to a lonely helipad nestled in a cove between the rocky hills. The full moon shrank away as the aircraft descended to the desert floor.

Despite the many helicopter ride attractions in the Smokies, Eddie had never flown in one. It was only natural that he craned his neck to peer over Frank's bulk to see the sprawling base below. Long, sunbaked runways cut across the landscape. Columns of white guide lights framed their lengths. A horizontal row of steady green lights marked each runway on one end while red ones warned pilots of the threshold on the opposite boundary. A control tower jutted up from the desert sands to observe and direct air traffic like a lonely, defiant sentry.

Heavily armed soldiers guarded massive hangars of the nation’s most sensitive secrets. Lights were visible in the barracks at the far end of the complex. Eddie imagined homesick soldiers writing letters home to their families. The truth of how they spent their time was likely as diverse as the men and women who served, but his experience with military life was limited to Gomer Pyle reruns and old war flicks.

Offices dotted the landscape as well. Emergency lighting illuminated their corridors to support the cleaning crews and make intruders think twice about entering them, lest they be spotted.

An unmarked water tower stood at each end of the installation. The headlights of military vehicles crisscrossed the network of dusty roads and four-wheeler trails that lined the complex. 

"So, this is Area 51?" Eddie asked.

Rogers shook his head. "The less you know, the better it is for everyone involved. Yourself included."

"Come on, Rogers! At this point, he's in for a penny, in for a pound, as you humans say," Frank argued. "He may not look like much, but he deserves the truth before he dies."

Eddie was thrilled someone sided with him for a change, even if Frank's gloomy assessment of his chance of survival was less than inspirational. "Thanks, Frank."

"I didn't offer the suggestion solely for your benefit, Starseed," Frank replied. "Our job is to keep you alive so the Seed can manifest. That's easier to do if you know what you're facing."

Frank was probably right. And Eddie's full-on freak-out mode was likely an impediment to his Awakening as well. The constant focus on survival left no time to wrestle with the Starseed. Life couldn't return to normal until the mysterious entity did its thing, whatever that was. He was knee-deep in alien drama until then, and Vegas was little more than a pipe dream. 

The helicopter's landing skid touched down on the helipad. Eddie reached for his seatbelt, but Rogers stayed his hand. His smug grin meant more surprises were in order. "The trip is just getting started, Mr. King."

Eddie sighed. "You can't be serious. There's nothing out here but a desert!"

"For once, human, would you please shut up and trust us?" Frank growled. His disposition could change in less time than it took rabbits to mate.

Eddie jabbed his finger under the Sasquatch's nose. "Look, pal! I didn't ask to have my life upended by aliens with a hard-on to kill me! Or for my friends to die! And you can bet your furry ass, I had no desire to fly across the country sandwiched in the back of a helicopter between a James Bond wannabe and a talking bearskin rug! So if you don't mind, I…."

Frank straightened his spine and towered over Eddie. "I suggest you get that finger out of my face and mind your tone."

"Or what?" Eddie asked. The words tasted brave when they spewed from his mouth like a surprise bout of diarrhea but lost their vigor when he realized an eight-foot Sasquatch was capable of more "or whats" than he could imagine. None of which were particularly pleasant.  

"That will be enough!" Rogers shouted. "Frank, I expect better from you! And Mr. King, I suppose you do make a valid point. We’ve turned your life upside down and given you precious little reason to trust us any more than you trust the aliens who slaughtered your friends. Please accept my apology. There are many things I am not at liberty to discuss with you. From now on, I will be one-hundred percent forthright with you when it's permissible. EGAD has kept you alive this long. I hope that earns us at least a small measure of your trust."

The unexpected apology let the air out of Eddie's righteous indignation. "It does. And, I'm sorry to you both. I'm just frustrated."

Frank looked away.

"Understandable," Rogers replied. "But things should become clearer now that we're here."

Eddie sighed. "Just level with me. Is this Area 51?"

Rogers shot a nervous glance at Frank. "No, this is Area 52, about 80 miles or so southwest of Salt Lake City in the Utah desert."

"Never heard of it," Eddie replied.

"Good," Rogers answered. "That means we've done our jobs well. Area 51 served its purpose well for decades but became a liability once it gained prominence as an urban legend. We still stage some test flights there and leak the occasional photo to keep the general public looking in the wrong direction, but we do the heavy lifting here."

"Sleight of hand," Frank grunted.

"That's right," Rogers continued. "This is where the cool kids play with the fun toys." He signaled to the pilot, and she pressed a button on the helicopter's dash.

The floor buzzed beneath Eddie's feet. It took a moment before he realized the helipad was sinking into the Earth. Going underground again made him uneasy. What new horrors awaited him there?

The helicopter was swallowed whole by a gaping, earthen maw.  An aperture spiraled shut above as the aircraft sank into a deep concrete shaft. Columns of bright, white lights illuminated the passage.

The elevator ride into the Earth was smooth and, for an experience with EGAD, surprisingly low-key. The helipad rotated to a gentle rest on a rubber buffer when the elevator reached the bottom. 

"We’ve arrived,” Rogers said. He unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and exited onto the rotating platform. Frank stepped out on the opposite side, but Eddie dismounted after Rogers, given the Sasquatch’s disdain for him. A small, mobile staircase descended to a smooth, polished-gray concrete floor.

The room was bare and large enough for the helicopter to rotate into place on the platform but left little clearance for anything else. Rogers pushed open a plain door in the corner and waved for Eddie and Frank to follow.

Unlike the claustrophobic helicopter staging area, a different world awaited them on the other side of the door. An enormous hangar stretched as far as the eye could see. Workers rushed to and fro and busied their laser-like focus on tasks far too complex for Eddie to understand.

“Eddie King, welcome to EGAD! We call this area the Garage,” Rogers beamed proudly.

The trio moved into the aptly named Garage, where hundreds of scientists, engineers, and mechanics toiled away on projects. The place was equal parts sci-fi spaceport and shade-tree mechanic’s backyard shed. Spare parts littered the area like components of ready-to-assemble furniture.

It was difficult to discern the junk from the high-tech wonders. New or old, the parts were tagged, and no doubt cataloged somewhere. The hangar was compartmentalized, with various tasks and experiments blocked off like booths at a craft fair.

Walls demarcated each work zone. Some areas stored items for community use. Spools of plastic tubing and rubber hoses of various colors, sizes, and compositions filled one such space. Another housed wiring and conduit of every kind imaginable. Panels, engines, computer components, and electronics were scattered everywhere.

Steel doors lined one side of the complex; their single-pane windows blacked out. Eddie guessed that whatever took place behind them was either dangerous or classified. A sign above one door warned of high radiation levels.  Eddie wanted nothing to do with such secrets. Perhaps Rogers was right when he said the less he knew, the better.

The entire Garage was like a science fair at the school for aspiring mad scientists but on steroids. Lots of steroids. Really, really good steroids!

“A lot of people here at this ungodly hour,” said Eddie.

Frank snarled. “Earth’s defense can’t afford to sleep.”

“No, but shift changes are in the budget,” Rogers replied. “However, Frank’s right. EGAD is a twenty-four-hour operation.”

“What’s going on over there?” Eddie asked, pointing to some people in shiny, metallic fire proximity suits. One of them aimed a flamethrower at a section of smooth plastic-looking material and baptized it in hellfire. After about ten seconds of intense exposure, the person holding the weapon snuffed the flame and lowered the still-glowing flamethrower. The target remained unscathed. Another person stepped forward to inspect the defiant sample while colleagues input data into tablets.

“They’re testing the limits of hull material salvaged from a downed Cygnian vessel,” Rogers explained.

A group of scientists in white lab coats engaged in a loud, heated discussion about a wind tunnel test for a model plane. One woman held a plastic mock-up of a traditional nose cone in her left hand while a male colleague screwed a sleeker, rocket-shaped nose into the clay model. The debate was fierce, with one side insisting on the merits of the more traditional blunt nose to increase stability. The other group argued that a dual-tailfin empennage would provide the necessary stability at higher speeds.

Rogers dropped off the Reptilian blaster rifles and checked them at a weapons station before he resumed the guided tour. “Check these and forward to the other location,” he said to a man behind the desk. The technology grew increasingly wondrous as they moved through the Garage.

Scientists on hover discs skittered over the hull of an alien spacecraft. A real live U.F.O.! It wasn’t as large or imposing as the sinister black triangle that destroyed the Time Capsule but was an impressive sight for someone unaccustomed to such marvels. Its metallic, saucer-shaped hull was dimmed with age and hearkened back to a simpler time in intergalactic travel.

A row of lifeless, colored lights dotted a metallic center ring that joined the top and bottom saucer halves. A few lights were broken, and others were missing altogether. The ship’s landing gear jutted from its hull like a space-faring arachnid. The drab-brown scorch marks on its lower hull were undoubtedly inflicted by the intense heat of repeated atmospheric entry. Was it Earth’s atmosphere or another planet’s vaporous shield that branded it with the sear marks?

“I don’t believe this! A real-life U.F.O,” Eddie whistled.  “How awesome is this?”

Rogers detoured from the narrow path marked on the concrete floor and proudly patted one of the craft’s landing gear assemblies. The leg was absent a landing boot, but a cinder block and two wooden spacers kept the ship mostly balanced and prevented it from toppling over.

“Not even close, my friend. The abbreviation “U.F.O” implies the craft is unidentified, but this baby is well-known to us, a gift from the Pleiadians. It’s a Maitre vessel recovered following an ill-advised attack on a second-generation Pleiadian Juggernaut. As you can see from the burn marks on its lower hull, it didn’t fare well in the altercation.”

So much for Eddie’s theory about the scorch marks being the result of entering the atmosphere of some exotic world. He blamed the flamethrower test for implanting the suggestion in his mind.

“It was presented to us back during the 1980’s so we could reverse-engineer the wreckage,” Rogers explained. “The Pleiadians were going to trash it but thought it might provide an excellent learning opportunity for our scientists. These many years later, and we’re still unlocking her secrets. But we’ve gleaned a goldmine of information from the old gal.”

“So it was a fighter ship?” Eddie asked.

Rogers shook his head. “Hardly. More like an exploration vessel, like those reported over the skies of America back in the 1940s and 1950s. Today, our Men in White are studying the shields to determine why they failed during the encounter with the Pleiadians. Boring, routine stuff mostly.”

The opportunity to work on an alien spaceship was anything but boring or routine to an outsider like Eddie. Did those who examined the saucer realize how awesome their jobs were? While the world at large debated the existence of spaceships, they took one apart to see what made it tick.

“Say what you want. I still think it’s pretty damn cool,” Eddie shrugged.

Rogers gave the craft a once-over and turned back to Eddie. His pursed lips melted into a satisfied grin. “To be honest, I do too, Mr. King! Pretty damn cool indeed! It’s easy to take these wonders for granted when you see them every day. Thanks for reminding me how awesome it truly is. All of this…” He spread his arms wide. “It should never get old! Come on. There’s more to see.” He led the group through a set of glass doors at the far end of the Garage. They passed into a breezeway.

The steel-framed glass breezeway cut through the layers of rock and reminded Eddie they were still deep underground.  He peeked over his shoulder for a final look at the Garage. He was sad to leave the spectacle behind. “I always knew they were real.”              

“Flying saucers?” Rogers asked. He paused at the breezeway’s exit door.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, all of this; aliens, flying saucers, Sasquatch, secret bases. Deep down, I knew there was something to it.”

“And what about Starseeds?” Frank huffed.

Eddie shook his head. “Not so much. Like I told Rogers and Priscilla earlier, I’m not even sure I heard the term before you guys entered the picture.”

“I’m still flabbergasted you never encountered it,” Rogers replied. “Some of the Elvis conspiracies talked about the Starseed specifically.”

“I shied away from the alien-connection theories for the most part,” Eddie answered. “I’m more of a simple “faked his death and working at Burger King” kind of guy.”

“I don’t know,” Rogers replied. “You’ve done a fair amount of web-surfing on alien topics as well.”

Eddie froze. What exactly did Rogers know about his browsing habits? “That’s kind of private, you know.”

Frank snorted. “What’s wrong? Afraid he knows what a pervert you are?”

Rogers scanned his retina in a device by the door. “Relax, Mr. King. Your porn preferences are hardly the weirdest I’ve seen. You should see the freaky shit Frank’s into!”

“Not even funny!” the Sasquatch fumed. His arms crossed over his broad chest. “I told you that was my cousin Harry, not me!”

Despite the threat of making an eight-foot Sasquatch the butt of the joke, Eddie couldn’t help but snicker.

“Shall we continue with the tour?” Rogers asked, opening the door for his companions.

If the Garage represented chaos and clutter, the abstract, futuristic lines in the second building relied heavily on order and detail. The interior designer loved gray; various shades dominated the architecture. An occasional spattering of black or white broke the monotony.

A white grid marked the dark-gray floors and segmented the layout into dedicated work modules. A large, prominent EGAD logo marked the top of a glass façade at the front of the building. It featured the organization’s acronym superimposed against the Earth’s globe. Beneath the globe, a mission statement, absent from the tabloid’s front covers, proclaimed, “Earth Guard Alien Defense!”

Cross-hatched metallic catwalks lined the second floor on either side of the complex. They were accessible by wraparound stairwells at the far ends of the massive space or via an antigrav lift in the center. The catwalks matched the dark-gray floors and handrails. The black banister sections beneath the rails were about three feet each in length and four feet high. They formed a reverse saw-tooth pattern when viewed end-on-end.

The office doors announced the names of the various departments hidden within; “Office of Abduction Investigation,” “Office of Public Misdirection,” “Opposition Research,” and “Office of Propaganda.” The organization dedicated the most significant space for discrediting witnesses to the alien phenomena. The appellations were written in multiple Earth languages, and a few tongues Eddie guessed were alien since he didn’t recognize their characters and symbols. The offices were recessed inside wave-shaped porticoes and featured frosted glass fronts, opaque enough to obscure the spaces within from prying eyes.

The opposite wall housed a cafeteria on both levels and a spattering of additional offices and storage spaces.

The ceiling featured a series of offset concentric circles. They ranged from a few feet in diameter on the outer edges to the three innermost fixtures that must have measured about thirty feet each. The rings recessed into the ceiling at various depths.

Other than the homogeneity of the larger fixtures, there was no discernible pattern to the size of the circles. More prominent recesses swallowed smaller ones. The design diminished toward the center until they reached the warm, white glow of the flush L.E.D.s within.              

Rows of white, egg-shaped desks and chairs pocked the first floor like zits on a teen’s face. Workers in dark-gray uniforms manned the stations. Plastic badges hung around their necks from lanyards.

Some areas were dedicated to distinct specialties, such as those for code-breakers, alien language specialists, and galactic political advisers. Each desk was uniform, the symmetry perfect, from the computers down to the pencil holders. Rows of super-computers and a server farm lined the back wall of the downstairs area.

Most stunning of all was the large glass facade sporting the EGAD logo. They were deep underground in the dead of night, yet the sun shined brightly through the wall of windows that stretched from ceiling to floor.

The scenery outside was as breathtaking as it was curious. EGAD headquarters sat on the side of a steep rocky mountain overlooking a raging river far below. Seven spectacular waterfalls emptied into the river from a kidney-bean-shaped cliff on the opposite side of a vast chasm. The cascading water produced an ever-present, soothing thunder in the distance.

Of course, none of that tracked. There were no alpine cliffs or waterfalls in the middle of a desert. Eddie certainly didn’t see them when the helicopter descended. Even more bizarre were the crowds of tourists who wandered around outside on the elaborate viewing deck that jutted out from the headquarters.

“What stops them from wandering inside?” Eddie asked.              

A wrinkle plowed through Rogers’ forehead. “Mr. King?”

Eddie pointed outside. “The sightseers.”

Frank guffawed loudly. “You big dummy! Those people aren’t real! It’s all a hard-light sim!”

Eddie didn’t like being called a dummy but let it go. The illusion was too breathtaking to argue. No amount of scrutiny produced even the hint of a “tell.” “It looks so real!”

“The entire wall is a hard-light simulation like you encountered back on Brown Mountain,” Rogers explained. “None of it is real; the people, the scenery, the water, the sky; even the glass facade itself.  It’s nothing but a blank wall. The scene changes from time to time to keep it interesting. You work underground, and you want to see a little sun. It’s good for morale.”

The uncanny illusion certainly deceived Eddie’s senses.

Families staked out the best spots to make memories and posed for pictures. Some sightseers viewed the scenery through coin-operated binoculars.

Vendors hawked t-shirts, souvenirs, and snow cones.

A young boy tossed a Styrofoam cup into a trash can and ran from the angry bees that gave chase. He rushed behind his parents, and they swatted the pesky bees away.

A little girl accidentally released a balloon and cried as it ascended into the cloudless sky. Her mother consoled her with a hug and directed her attention to the majestic waterfalls. The natural beauty was insufficient to dry her tears.

A teen couple held hands and pressed so close to one another a sheet of paper wouldn’t fit between them.

The level of detail was remarkable. The sweaty tourists were disheveled and glistened, as one would expect from a day in the hot summer sun.

An older man in a wheelchair spilled his soft drink down his shirt. The aggravation on his face was unmistakable.

A group of tourists climbed on the safety wall to take pictures. A park ranger chased them down. One of the girls in the group waited until he turned his back and hopped on the small rock wall again. She snapped selfies with her phone, her preening duck-face oblivious to the danger.

Even the birds were random, with a few circling to land on the plaza to claim fallen crumbs of food.

Eddie didn’t once spot a scene repeating as it would on a loop. “Amazing.”

Rogers greeted a receptionist with a friendly wave and charged past her desk. His target was an unremarkable door tucked away in the facility’s far-right corner beneath the wraparound stairs. If not for the words “authorized personnel only” posted on the slab, it would have passed for a broom closet.

A quick retinal scan turned the noisy tumblers inside the lock. The Director jerked the door open. They entered a hallway with unpainted gypsum wall panels and a concrete floor. Exposed incandescent light bulbs illuminated the corridor. The short passageway led to a dead-end wall. 

“I don’t get it,” said Eddie. “End of the line?”

Rogers tinkered with his watch. The wall faded away. The shimmering portal that replaced it looked like a small pond turned on its end with its reflective surface facing them. 

“Watch your step,” Rogers warned. “Don’t trip on the visual projector jutting up from the floor.” He pointed to Frank. “The big guy will never let you live it down if you fall flat on your face.”

Frank laughed anyway at the thought of it. The hulking Sasquatch ducked his head and stepped into the shimmering energy curtain. He was still chuckling under his breath when the mysterious void claimed him. Rogers gestured for Eddie to step through next.

Eddie backed away. “I don’t know….”

“It’s okay,” Rogers assured him. “I’ve done it thousands of times. It’s safe and painless.”

Eddie reluctantly stepped past the invisible projector and became one with the shimmer. A bright light popped like a flashbulb, and he stood next to Frank in a different hallway. Rogers stepped through after them.

“See?” Rogers shrugged. “No big deal.”

The new hallway was much nicer than the previous one. Red carpet accented dark cherry wainscoting that ran the corridor’s length. Abstract art prints provided a splash of color to the beige walls. A side table sat beneath a mirror hanging at the center of the hallway. It featured a bronze war elephant centerpiece with a small lamp and a business phone occupying one end.

Rogers tapped his watch again, and the portal behind them morphed into elevator doors. A sign posted on the doors read, “Danger - Elevator Out of Order.”

Rogers nodded. “And that, Mr. King, is the secret to hard-light simulation technology. Congratulations, you’ve peered behind the curtain. I hope it wasn’t a letdown.”

They followed the hallway to an actual elevator. Rogers scanned his retina once more. The doors slid open, and they stepped inside. Rogers punched a code into a keypad above the directional buttons. There was no button for the basement level where they were. The elevator jerked to a start and ascended. A building Directory on the wall to Eddie’s right showed they were in an eight-story office building in Denver, Colorado!

The floor plan featured a children’s dental center, an optometrist, a local historical society, a healthcare company, a physical therapy office, and an insurance firm. EGAD occupied the top two floors.

“Denver?” Eddie screeched. “Another simulation?”

Rogers shook his head. “Not this time, Mr. King. Tight lips. We’re in public now even if no one is stirring at this hour but the custodial crews.” 

“But how did we….”

“He said not now,” Frank warned.

Eddie clammed up, but his mind raced with questions. How did they get from the Utah desert to Denver in just a few short steps? Why were they worried about him asking questions in public when they were about to enter an office building with an eight-foot Sasquatch in tow? Would that not set off alarm bells the world over? And how in God’s name would they hide Frank’s pungent odor?

The elevator climbed past the dental center and the optometry office.

“Aren’t you guys afraid someone will discover your secret basement?” Eddie asked.

Rogers pointed to a keypad above the regular elevator buttons. “They can’t unless they enter the correct code for the basement. And as far as anyone else knows, this building doesn’t have a basement.”

“And let me guess,” said Eddie. “They need also need code to reach the EGAD offices?” 

Rogers shook his head. “Only for the basement. The EGAD lobby is open to the public.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t get you people at all.”

The elevator doors opened onto a stunning marble fountain that welcomed visitors to the lobby. A lazy stream of water bubbled over meticulously placed rocks and gurgled like a babbling brook as it flowed down the abstract centerpiece.

A young man and woman sat on the fountain’s edge and were locked in a disagreement about Lemurians. Eddie guessed it was another alien race, but he wasn’t sure.

A night food-delivery girl rushed past them with an order. She slammed a bag onto the dark, marble countertop at the receptionist’s desk. The writing beneath the logo on the bag stated, “Delivered Fresh in 20 Minutes or it's Free!”

Eddie guessed the frumpy girl was dangerously close to her deadline and that her pay would be docked if she failed to deliver it on time. Poor, dumb kid. He’d been in her position a time or a hundred. She handed the late-night munchies to a pretty brunette receptionist who picked up her phone and checked the Directory. 

The trio waited for the delivery driver to leave and approached the reception desk. Rogers leaned on the counter. It was the perfect leaning height, a little below chest high, so Eddie joined him and rested his weight on his right elbow.

A second receptionist, an attractive young woman with short, blonde hair, glanced up from her work and seemed delighted to see them. “Good afternoon, Director! Frank!” Her face warbled when she saw Eddie. “I don’t recognize your friend.”

Rogers tugged Eddie to the front of the group and displayed him like a 4-H kid showing a prize pony. “Zelena, this is Eddie King! He is the current host of the Elvis Presley Starseed!”

The young lady’s face lit up. She stood and extended her hand. “Oh my, I didn’t realize! Please accept my apology, Mr. King!”

Eddie took her hand and was amazed by its softness. “Please call me Eddie, and no need to apologize, Ms….” He peered at the nameplate on the woman’s desk. It read Zelena Tomas. “Mrs…Tomas.”

“Zelena,” the woman replied with a blush. “And it’s Miss Tomas. There is no Mister.”

Rogers rolled his eyes.

“Zelena it is then,” Eddie continued. He released her hand.

Frank pushed Eddie toward a set of double doors. “Will you please allow us to pass, Zelena? We have work to do!”

Zelena composed herself and turned to Rogers. “Frank’s in an unusually chipper mood today.”

Rogers shrugged. “You know how it is with him when there’s bad news in the world.”

Zelena giggled. “Yeah, and there’s always bad news somewhere, right?”

Rogers laughed.

“I’m standing right here,” Frank huffed.

The double doors opened slowly. Eddie followed Rogers and Frank inside. After the wonders he’d seen, he was disappointed to find a busy corporate office staffed with workers in business-casual attire. Polos and khakis made Eddie almost as nervous as Reptilians and Gray. Even worse, some of the men wore button-up shirts and ties!

Reporters ran back and forth with stacks of newspaper stock and obsessed over “the headline” and some problem with the number-two printing press. Coffee and hours-old pastries flowed freely.  A few workers nodded greetings but most ignored them. 

A tiny, dowdy woman emerged from a corner office. She pulled her graying hair back into a tight bun and screamed in a nasally northeastern drone to whoever would listen. “Feh! Where is my cover story? We can’t go to print without a damned cover! Come on, you ongepotchket lot! What do I pay you slackers for anyway, huh?”

The woman noticed their group and approached with a manufactured smile plastered just below her owlish beak. “Frank! How’s the family? I haven’t seen you since the Holiday party!”

“Don’t remind me,” Frank grumbled.

Did Eddie detect a hint of cologne emanating from the grumpy Sasquatch?

And who do we have here?” the woman asked.

“Fruma Feigenbaum, meet Eddie King,” said Rogers.

The woman extended her hand, and Eddie shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. King! You must be very important for Rogers to bring you here! Unannounced.”

Feigenbaum turned to Rogers as she hit the passive-aggressive accent on the final word of her welcome. Her log-splitting evil eye was just as penetrating. The unexpected company obviously displeased her, but everyone seemed impressed with the Starseed angle, so Eddie led with it to melt the ice. “I’m nobody really, but I host the….”

Rogers elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to take Eddie’s breath away. “Don’t let his modesty fool you! Mr. King is the host for the upcoming publishing and marketing conference at his venue in East Tennessee,” Rogers interrupted. “Does the entertainment himself, this one! You should see this guy do Elvis! He’s a dead ringer for the King on stage!”

Fruma eyed Eddie up and down and studied his face carefully. “The hair color is right, but he looks nothing like Elvis, this one! But then, who am I to say? I was never much of a fan. I’m more of a Neil Diamond gal!” She leaned into Eddie’s face. “But do you know who I really love?”

Eddie gulped and backed away from the invasion into his personal space. “Uh… no, who?”

“Barbara!” Fruma shrieked. “Oy vey! I love that woman!” 

“Different strokes,” Rogers replied.

Fruma turned away. “Philistine,” she mumbled.

“Miss Feigenbaum!” yelled a young man running up to her. “Which of these pictures would you run with for the Loch Ness Monster story?”

Fruma rolled her eyes. “An editor’s work is never done! If you nishgutniks will excuse me, I have an assistant art Director to shoot! If you see me in the funny papers, I’m counting on you for my alibi!”

“See you around Fruma,” said Rogers.

Feigenbaum walked away.

Eddie followed Frank and Rogers to a break room. They waited for a woman to make coffee and leave before Frank gave the okay that the coast was clear. Rogers unlocked a broom closet and whisked the others inside. He shut the door behind him, and lights blared to life. They were in yet another elevator.

Between changing buildings and tunnels and offices and elevators, Eddie was lost. All he could do was trust Rogers. But it wasn’t just the mystery of their current location that bothered him. The encounter with Fruma was puzzling. Rogers obviously wanted to keep his status a secret from her but introduced him as the Starseed to a receptionist. What were the rules when it came to discussing it? He waited until the elevator door shut behind them before he broached the subject with an eloquent, “What the hell?”

Rogers scanned his retina into the security apparatus above the numbered buttons. “We have to print the tabloid somewhere, right?’

“No, I mean when you elbowed me back there to shut me up,” Eddie said. “Everyone here is on the same team, right?”

The elevator plunged like an amusement park ride. Eddie scrambled to the rail and wished his poor stomach had something to latch onto as well.

“Absolutely,” Rogers replied, unencumbered by the elevator’s sudden drop. “Agent Feigenbaum is in the know, but everyone else at the tabloid believes they work for a sensationalist supermarket rag.”

“Next door to a top-secret military installation filled with alien technology?” Eddie asked incredulously. “Maybe someone should print a story about how a roomful of supposed journalists hasn’t caught on to that one yet.”

“They have no idea,” Frank replied, reaching for his stomach. The elevator ride was no picnic for him either.

Rogers lurched forward. Did the ride get to him a little as well? “It’s amazing what you can hide with Pleiadian teleportation hubs and a little hard-light technology.”

“But Feigenbaum knows all about the aliens and everything else?” Eddie asked.

Rogers nodded. “Yes, but she’s also a tabloid editor who doesn’t always stick to script.”

“Rarely sticks to script,” Frank growled. “Total wildcard. She’s been known to print stories we’d rather her not share.”

“She would stop the presses right now if she knew you hosted the Elvis Starseed,” Rogers explained. “Once a journalist, right? You’ll learn who you can trust but for now, follow our lead.”

Eddie nodded. “Say, what about the big guy here? Why did everyone not freak out about a Sasquatch in their midst?”

Frank dug through a patch of fur on his arm and pointed to a device strapped there. “Run of the mill image distorter. As far as anyone but Fruma knows, I’m a near-sighted balding field reporter named Frank Goldstein. They tease me about how little I am!”

“How tall do they think you are?” Eddie asked.

Frank laughed. “Five-three.”

“Any chance I could borrow one of these image distorters the next time I go clubbing?” Eddie joked.

Frank patted him on the back. “Going to use it to extend that sad, reproductive organ?”

“There is nothing wrong with the size of my… forget it!” Eddie replied. The elevator halted its descent, and the doors whooshed open.

“Clam it, you two,” Rogers warned. “We’re here.”

Chapter Fifteen

T he elevator opened into a bustling, vibrant workplace. The facility was large but nowhere near the massive scale of the Area 52 headquarters. It was every bit as busy, though.

Workers labored away in cubicle farms. There wasn’t an empty desk to be found. Their uniforms were identical to those worn at EGAD headquarters. Some scampered about the floor like beavers in a dam, while others served humanity’s cause at their desks.

A sizeable holographic globe hovered in the center of the room and spun on its axis. Random pinpricks of red light dotted its face.

Eight computer stations circled the projection. Digital representations of various countries were cut away from the globe and hovered before workers wearing headphones. One man dismissed a holographic map of Germany with a wave of his hand. It floated back into place on the globe, and he plucked Denmark from the map next. The woman beside him worked with Argentina.

“What the heck are they doing?” Eddie asked.

Rogers watched the workers intently as he led Eddie and Frank past the globe and into the walkway at the front of the cubicles. “Monitoring chatter from around the world. When they pick up something they believe merits further inspection, they mark it, and the anomaly gets assigned to an investigator for follow-up.”  

A brown-haired woman lugging an armload of papers darted from the copy room and nearly crashed into them. She snapped to attention with the heavy load still in her arms when she saw Rogers. “Director on the floor!”

Backs stiffened. The busy office grew quiet. 

“At ease, Rodriguez,” said Rogers. “Everyone at ease!”

People fell back into their work routines.  

Rodriguez nodded and sidestepped the trio. “Thank you, sir. Good to see you, Frank.”

“Rodriguez,” Frank replied.

Rodriguez continued on her way.

A woman at the back of one of the rows poked her head around the wall of her cubicle. She ducked back into her workspace and briefly disappeared. She towered above the partition wall when she stood. She moved into the aisle and approached with a graceful gait that was more of a purposeful glide as if she floated on air. She was one of the most stunning women Eddie had ever seen.

It was readily evident that she was taller than either Eddie or Rogers. Her shoulder-length locks were cotton-white but black at the tip ends except for long bangs that framed her soft, delicate features. Eddie wondered if perhaps she was the apex of evolution itself.

It wasn’t until she stood before him that he noticed her purple eyes and cascading earlobes that hung like batwings. Her pale complexion was ashen with just a hint of a pink blush to warm her face.

“Director Rogers, thank the stars you have returned safely.” Though absent strong inflection, her gentle lilt and buttery cadence sweetened her words like sugar cubes in coffee. “I’m sorry your vacation was cut short, Frank. I know your family looked forward to it. Any word from Agent Day?”

No one mentioned the ruined vacation plans to Eddie. No wonder he was on the Sasquatch’s shit list from the start.

“We hoped she reached out to someone here,” Frank replied.

The woman’s gaze fell to the ground. “We have received no communication from her either.”

Rogers squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. “Damn! I could use some good news right about now.”

The woman extended a hand to Eddie. “Mr. King, my name is Lilith. It is a pleasure to finally meet the Starseed.”

Eddie shook Lilith’s hand. Her porcelain skin was unusually cool. “You know me?”

“It’s okay, Mr. King. You can relax. Everyone at this office knows you’re the Starseed,” said Rogers. “Welcome to Central Base.”

Frank nudged Eddie’s good shoulder with an elbow. “We call it the Zoo.”

Rogers craned his neck toward Frank. “No, you call it that, and I wish you would stop! It’s disrespectful to your teammates.”

“You guys need to print me a scorecard,” Eddie replied as he released Lilith’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Agent Lilith.”

Though strikingly pretty, Lilith’s face expressed little emotion. “Thank you, Mr. King, but I am not an agent. However, I celebrate the Starseed’s safe arrival with tremendous relief. I see you are injured. I would be happy to administer medical attention.”

Adrenaline tamped down Eddie’s pain throughout their adventure, but his shoulder needed a proper medical evaluation and dressing. It no longer burned like the business end of a branding iron, but the wound remained tender. Besides, who could say no to Lilith? “That would be great. Thank you.”

“He was fortunate the Reptilian blaster only grazed his shoulder,” Rogers added. “Check him for a concussion as well, Lilith.”

Lilith nodded and turned away. “This way to the medical bay, Mr. King.”

“Lilith, wait,” said Rogers. “Would it endanger Mr. King to delay his treatment long enough to meet everyone?”

“I see no harm in that as long as we get him into treatment immediately afterward,” Lilith replied. “Infection is my biggest concern, but a few minutes shouldn’t pose a detriment to his health.” 

Rogers nodded. “Can you contact the team?”

“I asked them to meet us in the Director Emmett T. Fields Conference Room when you arrived,” Lilith replied. “If Mr. King can withstand the pain a little longer, he should be okay for a quick meet and greet.”

Rogers acknowledged Lilith’s reply and shot Eddie an inquisitive glance. “Mr. King?” 

Nothing sounded better than a pain killer, but Eddie had an opportunity to look tough in front of Lilith and pounced. “Sure, what are a few more minutes? At least no one is shooting at me.”

Lilith walked past them. “Follow me then, gentlemen.”

Throughout his lifetime, Eddie did many difficult things. Following behind Lilith wasn’t one of them. Her backside swayed like a hypnotist’s watch. Even Rogers seemed different around her, more subdued and less smug.

“Lilith is Pleiadian,” Rogers explained. “Her world is located in the Pleiades star cluster, 444 light-years from Earth. It was her people that gifted us the flying saucer you enjoyed back at the Garage.”

A high-school crush once pointed out the Pleiades to Eddie. She was into astronomy, and he was into her, so he took her to the local observatory on a date. Afterward, they laid on a blanket in a nearby park. She outlined the constellations for him. There was no hot, steamy sex. Even kissing was kept to a minimum. They mainly discussed their fears of impending adulthood and laughed at one another’s corny jokes.

Eddie felt like a king holding her hand. She moved away the next semester, and he never heard from her again. It was one of the few real dates he remembered before Sheila messed him up.

The stars weaved their magic on them both that night, but Eddie never dreamed that he’d meet a denizen from that distant bejeweled cluster years later. He understood why Eisenhower panicked when he met the Pleiadians. Their presence was overwhelming even when they demonstrated peaceful intentions. “Wow! I’ve never met a real live alien!”

Rogers chuckled. “It seems you’ve met quite a few now, Mr. King. Your wounded shoulder is testament to that fact, no?”

“My origins are from beyond your world, Mr. King. If that is what you mean,” Lilith stated. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all,” Eddie blurted. “It’s just that I’ve never met someone from another world or at least someone who wasn’t trying to kill me, as Rogers pointed out.”

A hearty laugh erupted from Frank’s throat. “Or so you believe.”

What did Frank mean by that?

Lilith led the trio to a conference room. Eddie was taken aback by the motley crew assembled around the glossy, walnut executive table at the room’s center.

A bat-human hybrid hung upside down from the water pipes and fluttered his wings. No one seemed to care that he was naked. “Well, look who finally made it to a meeting! What’s wrong, Frank? The old ball and chain keeping you domesticated these days?”

“I will tear your wings from your stupid body, Bruce!” Frank replied. “I’ve told you my family is off-limits to your jokes!”

The Bat-Boy released his hold on the water pipes and fluttered in mid-air. “Yipes! What’s eating you, Captain Caveman?”

“Had you been in the field with us, instead of here playing video games, you would know,” Frank replied. “Agent Day was captured by Reptilians.”

A hush fell over the room.

An imp sat cross-legged on the table surface, leaving an opulent leather chair empty.

A teen girl to the imp’s right blew bubbles with her gum. She was the kind of freak Eddie usually avoided. Her long sleeve, black t-shirt read, “The End Is Near! Good!” Thick eyeliner and black lipstick popped from the sea of white makeup smeared on her face. She painted a black teardrop below her right eye. At least Eddie hoped it was painted and not a tattoo. She seemed eager to be anywhere else.

A transparent, middle-aged African-American man with large muscular arms and a thick barrel chest sat next to her. He wore a loose-fitting shirt made of a burlap-like fabric. Only the top of his pants was visible, but they were gray wool and fastened by a rope rather than a belt.

An older couple sat together and appeared to be in their late 60s or so. The man’s gray hair was thinning. Hers matched his in color but as thick as a young girl’s. Large, black wings jutted from both their backs through their tracksuits.

Eddie thought he saw a shadow streak across the room out of the corner of his eye, but it vanished before he fixed his sight on it. Perhaps he imagined it. 

The final ingredient of the strange brew was a short Gray alien.

“Eddie, I’d like to introduce you to the field team. Everyone, this is Eddie King,” said Rogers. “Host of the Elvis Presley Starseed.”

“He certainly doesn’t look like much,” the Bat Boy shrieked.

Eddie turned to Rogers and sighed. “That’s getting old.”

Rogers nodded. “Noted, but you could stand to work out a little if you don’t mind a little unsolicited advice. That’s Bruce, by the way. Frank’s got nothing on him for being a pain in the ass.”

The last thing Eddie needed was another nemesis. “Oh, good. It just keeps getting better.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said the girl in goth makeup. “He’ll be dead soon anyway. All of you will.”

“Some of us already are,” said the see-through man.

“No one is going to die if I can help it, Lexi,” Rogers replied. “And Atticus, please don’t encourage her self-loathing.”

Atticus nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Bruce glided to the table. He looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. His bald head was much too large for his body. Over-sized, pointed ears extended well above his hairless pate. His undersized body was probably less than three feet in height but otherwise appropriately proportioned. His wings scraped the tabletop as he walked across it and joined the imp. 

“I would shake your hand but going solid takes a lot out of me,” said Atticus.

“Going solid?” Eddie asked. “So I’m not crazy. I do see through you!”

“I’m what you would call a ghost,” Atticus replied. “I passed from the land of the living in the Year of Our Lord, 1823.”

“How did you die?” Eddie asked. He wasn’t sure what to say to a ghost. He hoped he didn’t breach some sort of otherworldly, politically incorrect etiquette inquiring about the ghost’s death.

Atticus flashed a winsome smile. “A tale of love, betrayal, and voodoo in the old French Quarter!”

Lexi popped her bubble gum and rolled her eyes. “What a crock! He fell from the docks and got caught in the paddlewheel of a steamer. Poor sap never had a chance.”

Atticus pointed an accusing finger at Lexi. “At least I’m a real ghost and have an actual story which is more than I can say for you, brat!”

Lexi stuck out her tongue at Atticus then granted Eddie a speck of her attention. “I’m Lexi, and I’m a vampire.”

The only ones who didn’t enjoy an amused grin at Lexi’s expense were Lilith and Rogers. Lilith took a seat next to the winged couple.

“Ha!” Atticus laughed. “And I’m President Monroe!”

The crew broke into laughter.

Lexi folded her arms across her chest and threw her black boots onto the table. She paired black short-shorts with matching, torn fishnet stockings. “I am a vampire! And my true love Leopold will rescue me from this miserable existence one day!”

“Lexi!” Rogers shouted. “Give it a rest. In addition to being a, we’ll say, “vampire” for the sake of argument, Lexi is the world’s best hacker.”

Eddie was impressed. He certainly wasn’t the world’s best at anything when he was her age. Or at any age, for that matter. “Wow! You’re like what, sixteen?”

“Cool your jets, old dude,” Lexi replied. “You’re not getting in my pants.”

Eddie recoiled from the suggestion. “No, I would never….”

Frank laughed. “From what I hear, he’s not….”

“Frank!” Rogers scolded. “Enough about that! No more. Understood?”

Frank shrank from the reprimand and plopped into the seat next to Lilith. “Yes, sir.”

The older, winged gentleman cleared his throat and spoke. “I’m afraid my wife and I have no colorful, entertaining tale to spin. We are the Amsels, Hans and Hilda. I am what’s known as an incubus, and my wife, a succubus. We’re semi-retired but always told Rogers we’d be ready whenever the Elvis Starseed manifests again.”

“You’re demons?” Eddie asked.

The elderly couple shared a hearty laugh. Hilda covered her mouth when she chuckled. 

“Such a charged term,” Hans replied. “Technically, I suppose it’s true. We escaped from Hell during an uprising in the Dark Ages. But we’ve lived in a little cabin in southern Jersey since retirement.”

“Wait a minute!” Eddie cried. “You’re responsible for the Jersey Devil sightings, aren’t you?”

Hans shook his head. “Oh no, that’s Lou! He’s not such a bad guy when you get to know him. A little shy, but he’s aided the team on occasion over the years.”

“You’re retired?” Eddie asked. “That’s a thing for demons?”

Hilda shook her head. “Oh no, we’re retired from EGAD. As long as there’s hell to raise, we’ll always be demons, my dear boy.  Just as you’ll always be human.”

Eddie appreciated the affirmation of his humanity.

“Yep, been doing this since the early ’70s,” said Hans. “Got out a few years back.”

Hilda interjected. “But we didn’t join together. I enlisted during the Summer of Love. I didn’t meet my Hans until he came aboard in ‘71.”

“We worked with Mr. Presley back in the day, too,” Hans continued. “Nice young man, delightful chap. You do remind me of him.”

Eddie kept the lid on the can of worms that was his career choice. If anyone knew, they said nothing.

“And they call me Shamus,” said the ruddy-faced imp with the bright red hair and beard. He spoke with a heavy Irish accent. His banded jacket and flared breeches were brown, but his knee-high jodhpur boots were black and shiny. His jacket was embroidered with a red-and-green coat of arms displaying a yellow griffin with its wings spread wide, ever-poised to attack. A stovepipe hat drooped to one side of his head, a green sideband wrapped around its crown. A working clock face adorned the hat and ticked away the seconds in a counterclockwise direction. A long peacock feather protruded from the hatband. “If you haven’t guessed by now, mate, I’m a leprechaun.”

Eddie turned to the one being in the room that paid him the least attention, the Gray alien. “You’re one of them,” Eddie said. “A Gray alien.” 

The alien surveyed Eddie with his large, unblinking eyes. “I’m Bob.”

“Really?” Eddie asked. “You chose the name, Bob?”

The alien’s head nodded on his long, narrow neck. “Yes, just Bob. It’s a functional name that humans don’t stumble over. “Eddie” doesn’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of beings across the galaxy either. The worst “Eddie” that comes to mind is the icky kid from “Leave it to Beaver.” 

“Fair enough,” Eddie replied. The “Leave It to Beaver” reference amused him.

“Does my presence offend you?” Bob asked.

Eddie smiled. “As long as you’re not trying to kill me, I’ll assume you’re one of the good guys.”

“One of the best,” Rogers replied. He patted Bob on the back and rested an arm on one of the alien’s narrow shoulders. “Bob started with us back in the 1950s. We owe the glut of our understanding of most alien species to him, Lilith, and a handful of others. He’s our resident expert on the Gray.”

The black streak darted across the room again.

“And you’re not crazy,” said Rogers. “The shadowy streak you see now and again is Luther. He’s a shadow wraith and moves at super-speed.”

“I’ve seen that before,” said Eddie. “When you enter a room and think you see something move out of the corner of your eye.”

Rogers took a seat. “Luther’s people are peaceful explorers who inhabit a dimension adjacent to our own.  We believe they use Earth’s ley lines and vortices to bridge the gap between our worlds. Most people have seen them at one time or another.”

“Ley lines? Vortices?” Eddie asked.

Rogers motioned for Eddie to sit in an empty chair between Atticus and Hans. “Some other time, Mr. King. Now that you’re familiar with the team let’s get to work.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what kind of contribution anyone expected from him. He just hoped their expectations were reasonable and that they included rescuing Priscilla. 

“So, ladies and gentlemen, now that the Starseed is present, how do we stop a full-scale invasion of Earth?” Rogers asked dryly.

So much for reasonable expectations.

Chapter Sixteen

T he Malicium wouldn't budge, no matter how hard Priscilla tugged against her restraints. Her futile escape attempts were cut short by the sound of the door whooshing open. "Hello?"

A Reptilian guard approached the table and stared at her. The patches of orange around his ears meant he was young and wet behind the ears, the Reptilian equivalent of a cadet fresh out of the academy. Probably a flunky left behind to watch over her until the drug overpowered her resistance. "Be silent, human, or I will cut out your tongue!"

He meant it too. Regardless of age, Reptilians weren't known for hyperbole.

"I would reconsider that course of action," Priscilla warned. "The Gray didn't pump me full of truth serum to keep me quiet."

The Reptilian said nothing.

"So, you are to guard me then?" Priscilla asked. With her tongue, her life, and the possible future of humanity at stake, every detail gleaned was a vital one. It was imperative to use the guard's inexperience and keep him talking while her wits were still keen.

The alien nodded. "That is my assignment."

"Why do you hate humans?" Priscilla asked.

The Reptilian's pupils narrowed to thin slits. "Why do you hate Reptilians?"

The young Reptilian was no fool. His was a fair reversal but with the psychotropic coursing through her veins and threatening to spill EGAD's most sensitive secrets, time wasn't on Priscilla's side. It grew harder to fight the drug with every moment that passed. "Why are you doing this?"

The Reptilian guard stared straight ahead. "I have my orders."

"Then it's true," Priscilla replied.

"What is true, human?" the guard asked.

Priscilla replied with the most dismissive tone possible. "I’ve always heard the Reptilians are the lapdogs of the Gray.”

The Reptilian’s pupils exploded open. “We are no one’s lapdogs!”

There it was! Priscilla exposed a raw nerve. Old Battle Axe Barnes would be proud. He was her survival instructor at EGAD Academy. He taught cadets to find an adversary’s sore spot and exploit it. An angry opponent was a distracted one, and Reptilians were notoriously easy to antagonize. Their inferiority complex manifested as unwarranted hubris. They fancied themselves a noble race of great warriors and highly-feared among the star-faring civilizations. No one outside Earth’s upper mantle believed such nonsense. The chip on their shoulders about their less-than-stellar reputation left them easy marks.

Priscilla pressed her advantage. “No, of course not! But once they subjugate humanity, who will be left on Earth for them to conquer? Do you suppose they’ll be content to rule only those who live on the surface?”

“They know better than to cross us,” the Reptilian shot back.

Taunting the Reptilian was a calculated risk. Priscilla hoped the tactic wouldn’t prove fatal, but she pressed on. “Perhaps you’re correct, Reptilian. Does the elephant trouble himself with the affairs of the ant?”

“You are fortunate my orders prevent me from slaying you, human,” the guard snapped. “Or I would wrench your grossly misshapen head from your fragile neck!”

“I’m sorry,” Priscilla feigned. “Did I push too far? It wasn’t my intention to offend.”

The fuming creature turned away. Steam practically rolled off its scaly back, but Priscilla mined a crucial nugget of knowledge; he was under orders not to kill her. That information changed the calculus of their interaction. The Reptilians’ cultural proclivity to obey orders guaranteed her safety. She was at liberty to push the guard as hard as she desired. “You have to understand. I’m simply curious. I’ve long been fascinated with the Reptilian deference to the star-faring races.”

The Reptilian rushed to the exam table and lowered his face to Priscilla’s. He bared his fangs and snarled. Contempt boiled in his eyes, but he stayed his hand. His vexation with Priscilla drew him close enough for her to swipe his blaster pistol with her left hand. She learned the skill from an old pickpocket boyfriend back in her troubled teen years. The EGAD field team long marveled at her ability to liberate objects from their owners.

Priscilla fired the weapon into the Reptilian’s midsection. He stumbled backward with the recognition of his impending demise frozen on his face. The stunned creature fumbled for the blaster rifle strapped across his back, but the specter of death was already dimming his eyes. There was no doubt he would die. The only mystery was whether or not he could reach the blaster before Priscilla freed herself. She carefully turned the stolen blaster pistol until the laser head rested against the Malicium gauntlet that bound her hand. The shot required perfection, or she would slice through her forearm.

The dying Reptilian reached his blaster but struggled to slide it off his back.

With no time to waste, Priscilla tapped the trigger with her thumb. The white-hot laser leaped from the gun and sliced through the Malicium cuff. She wriggled her hand free and turned the gun toward the stumbling Reptilian. She fired as he raised his blaster.

The blue beam cut through the alien’s scaly neck and removed his head. The creature’s detached noggin bounced off his chest and plopped to the floor. His headless trunk collapsed next to it as the head rolled beneath the exam table. The blaster rifle fell away to his side.

“Just as old Battle Axe warned,” said Priscilla. “Lose your temper, lose your head.”

The fallen Reptilian missed the joke.

Priscilla blasted her other hand free. An alarm blared to life the moment she blew apart the stockade-like device that bound her feet. She kicked free of the electronic scrap and dismounted from the table.

The concrete floor was cold on her bare feet, but she had little choice but to endure it. Backup would arrive at any moment and discover the slain guard. She slammed the thick, metal table over and ducked behind the slab. The fallen Reptilian’s blaster rifle was within reach, so she stretched over his body and confiscated it. One could never have too much firepower once the battle began.

No sooner than Priscilla crouched behind the table, the first Reptilian burst into the room. She popped up from her hiding spot and blasted him in the chest with the hand blaster. He dropped to the floor.

A second Reptilian rushed in after him. Priscilla picked him off as well.

The third Reptilian took cover at the entrance and fired into the room at random. The stray blasts zipped above the table and destroyed the monitors and other equipment behind her. 

The heavy fire gave cover for another Reptilian to enter. “I know you’re behind the table, human!”

Priscilla tracked his heavy footsteps as he neared. She traded out the pistol for the dead guard’s blaster rifle. Rather than cower in place and wait to see who could pull their trigger first, she launched from her hiding spot and landed at his scaly feet. “Looking for someone?”

The aggressive move surprised the Reptilian, as did the blue beam that nearly vaporized him. Priscilla stared at the weapon in admiration. It responded in kind to her adrenaline level, but she had little time to ponder the marvelous technology. Her new position offered her a clear shot at the Reptilian in the corridor. He peeked into the room, and Priscilla blasted him to whatever served as the Reptilian version of the afterlife.

Priscilla raced to the door and sneaked a peek into the long, concrete corridor. It was empty, but she doubted it would stay that way for long. She needed to find a communications console and contact her team.

Pricilla was unsure where she was, let alone where to locate such equipment. She wasn’t even sure she’d recognize it as such if she stumbled across it, but staying put wasn’t an option. Though Reptilians weren’t known to mourn their dead, a roomful of slain brethren could very well incite a thirst for vengeance. She darted into the hallway and ran to the left.

Noisy reinforcements approached from an intersecting corridor, so Priscilla reversed direction and fled to the right. She hoped she was headed toward an exit and not deeper into the facility. Her legs pumped hard as she weaved through the honeycomb structure. Exiting a long corridor, she stumbled across two Reptilians escorting a human female.

The girl appeared to be about ten years old. Her needle-pocked arms draped over her captors’ shoulders. Her lack of height forced them to stoop to carry her in such a manner. A white sheet covered her from the waist down. She likely endured an invasive medical procedure or some other inhumane torture, given her pitiful condition.

The Reptilians were so preoccupied with their prisoner they didn’t see Priscilla sprint into the corridor. She froze, lest she attracted unwanted attention. 

The young girl lifted her head and spotted Priscilla. She screamed as if she saw a monster.

Priscilla had no choice but to fire. Faced with two opponents, she couldn’t lose the element of surprise. Her blaster dropped the escort on the girl’s right before his colleague even looked up.

The second Reptilian shoved the girl to the concrete floor and drew his hip blaster. He returned fire, but the errant beam struck the wall behind Priscilla. She returned fire. Her blast tore through her opponent’s arm just above his wrist. His severed hand fell to the floor with his finger still on the blaster’s trigger.

The gun fired wildly as the Reptilian’s emancipated appendage flopped on the floor. He tried to retrieve the weapon strapped across his back, but it proved too difficult with one arm. He gave up and reached for the one flailing in his hand on the ground. He was felled by his own hand as he tried to extract the blaster from it. The traitorous limb finally twitched the last of its muscle memory and stilled.

The girl cowered beneath the sheet. Priscilla rushed to her aid and knelt next to her. She gently peeled back the sheet from around the girl’s head. The terrified child curled up in the fetal position and turned her face away.

Children weren’t Priscilla’s forte. To say she was awkward around them was an understatement. But the poor thing needed comfort and to know she was safe. Priscilla stroked the girl’s long, blonde hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re safe now.”

“No guns. Guns bad,” the girl begged, her voice quivering with sobs.

Priscilla scooted her blaster away and hoped the Reptilian cavalry stayed away long enough for her to earn the girl’s trust. The blaster skidded out of reach. Any Reptilian that appeared would have the drop on her. “Look, no gun! Okay?

The girl turned to Priscilla’s gentle voice. 

Priscilla recoiled in horror. “Oh my god!”

The girl’s bright yellow eyes narrowed to vertical Reptilian slits. Her mouth opened wide and bared a set of two-and-a-half-inch fangs. When her jaw was unable to open wider, she unhinged it and lunged.

Priscilla jerked away, but the fangs scraped her left arm. The strike didn’t puncture her flesh completely but pumped enough of the girl’s poison into her to burn like hellfire. Priscilla scrambled for her blaster, but it looked farther away than before. Or was the psychotropic drug affecting her ability to judge distance accurately? 

“Guns bad,” the girl taunted with an evil hiss. She slithered toward Priscilla and flicked her bifurcated tongue. The sheet fell away and revealed not legs and feet hidden beneath but a serpentine tail. The girl coiled and struck again. She latched onto Priscilla’s right foot.

Priscilla tried to jerk her foot from the girl’s grasp, but the young hybrid was surprisingly strong. Unable to free herself, Priscilla lunged for the blaster. Her fingertips brushed against the stock but knocked it even further away. 

The snake girl slithered her tail around Priscilla’s right foot and coiled around her leg. Hunger seethed in her serpentine eyes. “Feed!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Priscilla warned.

The girl lifted her tail and shook the tip violently. It clattered like a baby’s rattle as she inched up Priscilla’s exposed leg. Her claw-like nails sliced into the naked, exposed flesh of Priscilla’s calf.

Priscilla yelped in pain. “You don’t have to do this,” she begged as she struggled to extricate the girl from her leg. “I saved you from those Reptilians. The way I see it, you owe me a solid, Little Miss Medusa!”

The snake girl's only reply was to unhinge her jaw again. She was a victim, but Priscilla wasn’t eager to become one herself. She saw an opening and kicked. Her left heel struck beneath the girl’s chin. Priscilla kicked free of the child’s grip.

The hybrid scrambled after her, but Priscilla lunged and grabbed the butt end of the blaster.

The snake girl coiled around Priscilla’s ankle to pull her away from the gun, but it was too late. Priscilla yanked the blaster into her hand. It was impossible to miss at such close range, and with her adrenaline pumping so hard, she knew the blast would be lethal.

The laser tore through the snake girl's chest. The hybrid’s serpentine coils released her and flopped to the ground. Her jaw unhinged one final time, and she lashed out blindly before she expired.

Even as Priscilla pulled away, with her eyes agape and lips quivering in horror, remorse seized her very soul. No, it was more than mere remorse but deep, grievous shame. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever slay a child of any species – human, alien, hybrid, or otherwise, for any reason.

Priscilla gingerly wiped her bloody legs with her left hand. The girl’s talons shredded her calf muscle. Fresh crimson ran down her legs and puddled at her feet. She tore the girl’s blanket and fashioned a makeshift tourniquet. She wrapped her lower leg and crawled to the wall.

Her back pressed firmly against the wall’s smooth surface for support, Priscilla inched up slowly and stood. The last thing she wanted was to release from the wall, but she needed to test the tender leg.

With most of her weight still on her left leg, Priscilla removed her hand and shared the load with her injured limb. She stumbled but steadied herself with the wall’s help. The wounds hurt but she dared not touch them.

Priscilla flung the blood from her hands and stared in disbelief at the life-giving crimson flow that covered her palms.  “She left me no choice. It was her or me, her or me. It was her or….”

Salty tears trickled over Priscilla’s face and onto the concrete floor. She didn’t cry often, but the hybrid was still a child. Vomit spewed from her mouth. With a puddle of puke gathered at her feet, she wiped the drool from her lips. Her lungs heaved for breath, and she threw up again.

At last, years of training jerked Priscilla back to the reality of her situation. She had to move, or she would die. Surely the ruckus attracted someone’s attention, and without a doubt, the Gray monitored the halls with advanced surveillance equipment.

Priscilla hobbled through the corridor and navigated a series of random turns. Bloody footprints trailed behind her. She cursed the breadcrumbs she left in her wake, but there was no time to dress her wounds properly.

Priscilla’s bloody feet slapped against the concrete floor. The muffled sound of her footfalls was likely a combination of the psychotropic drug and the serpent girl’s bite. The loss of blood probably contributed to her general wooziness as well. 

An idea popped into Priscilla’s head, but she hated it. God, how she hated it, but she’d bleed out otherwise. The intense heat from the blaster could cauterize her wounds if she got the beam close enough to her skin without touching it. Priscilla slid down a wall and sat on the floor once again. She extended her legs in front of her.

With blurry eyes, she aimed the blaster at the floor, inches from her shredded flesh. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind. Confident her hand was steady and aware that she needed to get moving, Priscilla unwrapped her bandages. She rolled the bloody remnant of the torn sheet into a knot and bit into it. A careful squeeze of the trigger coaxed the blue beam to life.

The laser etched into the concrete floor between her legs. Priscilla slowly inched the beam close to her calf. The blinding flash of pain forced her to bite into the bloody gag to muffle her cries. The wounds closed, but the pain was unbearable.

Time was a luxury Priscilla didn’t possess. It was move or die. She scooted up the wall and wondered if it was easier just to die. Driven by fear and adrenaline, she hobbled through the labyrinthine compound and turned right at the next intersection.

Halfway down the corridor, a door whooshed open. A Gray stepped into the hallway.

As far as Priscilla could tell, the alien wasn’t armed. Still, she opened fire before he could unleash a bioelectrogenic attack. The blast killed him instantly.

Boots approached from the intersecting corridor. No doubt they discovered her victims or her bloody footprints and were closing in. Outrunning them in her condition was impossible. She was trapped. Left with but one choice, she ducked into the still-open room previously occupied by the Gray that lay dead in the hallway. She shot the control panel by the door. The heavy reinforced slab dropped from a recess in the door frame and slammed shut behind her.

It would take her pursuers a good while to cut through the disabled door, but Priscilla was trapped. She looked around the room for anything she could use to her advantage. Maybe even communication gear.

A faint blue glow emanated from behind a massive computer console that stretched the length of the back wall. Its luminescence wasn’t bright enough to cast shadows but provided enough light to see.

The computer was earthly and obviously from the 1960s, an outdated paperweight from a bygone era. It was dead. A smaller console, a hulking brute in its own right from the 1970s, sat in the middle of the room. It was marked “Property of U.S. Army.” Priscilla looked it over and found the power cord was missing. It, too, was little more than a scrapped decoration. 

The Gray possessed technology light-years beyond human civilization. So what was the Gray that she killed doing behind closed doors? He certainly wasn’t running calculations on either of the dinosaur computers.

Blaster fire erupted against the thick door. Priscilla wasn’t sure how long the slab would hold. The commotion seemed to last forever before it finally subsided. When it finally ceased, the door lifted as easily as if it were fully functional.

Priscilla ducked behind the smaller computer console and waited for the Reptilians to rush into the room after her. Hearing no one, she peeked from her hiding spot behind the bulky antique.

A lone Short Gray entered the room with one hand raised. He held the heavy door aloft with telekinesis which meant he was insanely powerful. A small army of Reptilians waited outside. She locked eyes with the creature. She knew all too well how deadly they were. Though not the galaxy’s most intimidating species, their ability to generate electrical attacks and their innate telekinesis easily numbered them among its most deadly.

Priscilla killed the Gray in the hallway with the element of surprise on her side. She doubted it was possible to survive a battle against one prepared to fight. The Army lost sixty highly-trained soldiers to a handful of Gray in 1979 at Dulce, New Mexico, the most notorious of all known Gray bases. What was she supposed to do against one?

“You have lost human,” the Gray stated matter-of-factly. “Your ability to fight the psychotropic is admirable, but surely madness fogs your brain by now, no? Surrender, and we will administer a counter-agent to the drug and tend your wounds. You require medical treatment.”

If the alien intended to lure Priscilla out of hiding by the power of suggestion, his words had the opposite effect. She realized her mind was clear, as if she already received an antidote. Was it possible the venom in the hybrid’s bite neutralized the drug? “Do you think I’m an idiot? You’ll kill me either way.”

The Gray’s reply wasn’t immediate, as if weighing the logic of her words. Priscilla braced herself for a sneak attack, but it didn’t come. Instead, she felt the creature’s telepathic tug inside her head. It took all the resilience she could muster to fight the overpowering suggestion to kill herself with the stolen blaster.

“Get out of my mind, monster!” Priscilla spat.

“Very well,” the Gray replied. “I offered the opportunity for a quick, painless solution to our impasse, but you opt instead for a slow and agonizing demise.”

The telepathic nudge subsided.

“No one else has to die,” Priscilla replied. She kept her finger on the blaster’s trigger as she spoke.

“You are wrong, Agent Day,” the Gray replied. “My brethren were quite willing to overlook the deaths of a few lowly Reptilians, but you murdered a superior species when you took one of our own. The penalty for such a heinous life-force imbalance is death.”             

“Go to hell, alien!” Priscilla replied.

“Such venom in your words,” the Gray replied. “You do realize that even if I don’t kill you now, you shall perish from the base needs of your frail biological engine?”

It wasn’t like the Gray to taunt, but he was right. Hunger and thirst gnawed at her. Priscilla doubted the bunker had a McDonald’s tucked away in a corner somewhere, but she was trained to go without food for days. Water, however, was essential to all species. She needed to find a supply, or dehydration would set in soon.

Or would it? Priscilla felt great. Strength surged through her body. Even her wounds felt better. They only hurt like hell warmed over twice. Was the serpent girl’s bite a miracle drug? “Screw you!” Priscilla replied.

“Then I’m afraid you leave me no….”

Priscilla shot to her feet and fired before the Gray finished his sentence. The blast struck him in the chest, and he fell. So too did the heavy door under the influence of his telekinesis.

The Reptilians opened fire in the hallway outside, but the door was designed to withstand bunker-busting bombs. Even a weapon as powerful as a Reptilian blaster would take hours to cut through it. A good shot from Frank’s sling would do it, but the blasters? No way.

Priscilla searched the room and discovered a walk-space behind the large computer. The passage was wide enough that she slipped comfortably behind the hulking console. A double door frame was located halfway down the wall. She passed through it and exited onto a stairwell that descended into the eerie, blue abyss below.

Priscilla steeled her nerves and descended into the void. She was likely to die anyway. What difference did it make if it was at the hands of Reptilians, the Gray, or whatever fate awaited her in the darkness below? And there was always the slim chance she’d find an escape. She traced the handrail with her fingertips. It jutted out from the wall at about a child’s height, an indication the stairs were intended for Gray hands only. She reached a landing where the stairs twisted in the opposite direction and followed them to a lower level.

The overhead lighting there was responsible for the eerie blue glow that first attracted her attention. A strange, pungent odor hung in the cool air. She thought about turning back, but no one was shooting at her, so she moved forward.

The lower level abandoned the honeycomb floor plan that confounded her escape efforts upstairs. It was open and considerably larger than the Garage back at EGAD headquarters.

A massive wall loomed in the distance. A salvage yard occupied the cavernous space between it and the stairs. Unlike the Garage at EGAD headquarters, it didn’t bustle with curious minds poring over technological miracles. It was truly a sad dump for discarded debris, a concrete burial ground for the corpses of once-wondrous scientific achievements.

Priscilla wished she had time to inspect the scrap or at least a way to broadcast video back to headquarters for their engineers and scientists to study. She recognized a few antiquated warp casings no longer used by any known galactic vessels. The cores were absent in all but one, but even it was brown and spent.

Entire crafts were abandoned and scavenged to their empty hulls. Priscilla was most surprised to spot a Korean War-era American P-51 Mustang among the wreckage. Only shards remained of the obliterated tail section, a stern reminder of the Gray's technological superiority over Earth’s most advanced aircraft, regardless of the era.

A trench lay about ten yards to Priscilla’s right. It ran the length of the complex and looked to be perhaps five feet across. The thick, amber flow within inched toward the cinder block wall ahead and was undoubtedly the source of the horrid stench.

Maintenance stations dotted the trench’s path, each straddling the river of goo. The cinder block oases were only about four feet in height, again clearly intended for the Gray. A sign posted at each station warned against swimming in the murky slime. Priscilla inspected the first station. It contained only a few hazard suits, goggles, nets to pluck debris from the trough, and what she assumed was a first-aid kit. There was also a mop and bucket.

Priscilla pried open the first-aid kid and was happy to find hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. Snake-girl’s bite or not, she felt better cleaning her wounds properly, lest she succumb to infection. The hydrogen peroxide burned but eased her mind as it seeped into her wounds. She held up one of the hazard suits, hoping to protect her body from any potential radiation associated with the sludge. The lead-lined garment was much too small for a human adult and far too cumbersome for someone on the move. “They could at least shop in the young adult section,” Priscilla said under her breath. She dropped the suit to the floor and moved on.

An opening in the cinder block wall allowed the viscous mixture to flow unimpeded to the other side. Priscilla neared an expanse to its left wide enough to drive a fleet of tractor-trailers through several times over. A loud banging noise stopped her in her tracks. It was only the pipes pinging overhead but reminded her how dangerous it was to creep around behind enemy lines. The pipes were old but had to lead somewhere. A way out, perhaps?

The equipment that lined the cinder block wall looked outdated even by Earth standards. Valves and a large hydraulic pressure wheel served as controls and snaked up to the noisy pipes. She traced the pipes to a winding network of vats mounted high overhead. Suspended from the bottom of each vat was what appeared to be a large, clear plastic bag. The amber goo from the trench filled each bag.

A symbol painted on the cinder block wall by the entrance grabbed Priscilla’s attention. Inscribed within a stylized parallelogram with a rightward tilt was a single English word painted in blue letters.

“Polaris.”

Priscilla’s heart nearly stopped. She knew exactly where she was, and she was in deep trouble.

“Dulce,” she whispered.

Pursuit stomped down the stairs in the distance. The harried ruckus that accompanied their descent made it clear the search party was large. Priscilla searched for a hiding place and decided one of the stripped-down flying saucers fit the bill nicely. She darted back to the salvage yard and chose a cargo craft that had no door in place. It wasn’t ideal, but it made entry into the vessel easy without attracting attention. She hoped her pursuers would think she continued on ahead.

Inside the ship, Priscilla found a smuggler’s hold in the floor and crouched inside. The door was warped and wouldn’t pull shut. She removed her blaster from her back and slid the barrel through the lock eyelet. She pushed on the butt end of the blaster and used leverage to pull the door into place. It figured to be a long night.

Chapter Seventeen

A nd here are your temporary quarters,” said Rogers.

The room was about three-hundred square feet, and nicer than Eddie’s camper, or at least the interior designer was decidedly more adult. It wasn’t lavish, but the fact he considered the accommodation even remotely elegant said more about his usual living arrangement than it did about the room’s luxury.

Cream-colored Berber carpet covered the floors, the kind that showed no dirt even when it needed a pass with a vacuum. Not that it did. The room was immaculately clean, particularly in comparison to Eddie’s camper.

A bathroom sat to the right upon entering. A small closet was next in line and completed the entrance. A small nightstand separated the bed from the outside wall of the closet. Eddie guessed the bed was probably a Queen, but he was never good at guessing bed sizes. Everything looked huge compared to his own, which doubled as a kitchen table during the day. A gray comforter covered the mattress. Three fluffy pillows leaned against the headboard, a touch of class decidedly absent from his usual digs as well.

A second nightstand occupied the space on the other side of the bed. Lamps topped both nightstands. A few feet of empty wall separated the second nightstand from a plush, gray-and-white striped loveseat in the corner. A coffee table offered a place to rest one’s feet while watching television.

A round dining table and four chairs in the center of the lounge area complimented the rest of the furniture. The designer placed a desk and a rolling office chair in the corner opposite the loveseat. A smaller lamp with a pull-chain decorated the desktop. The dresser beside the desk served as a stand for the flat-panel television. Its remote lay next to it.

Beyond the dresser, the kitchen area included a coffee pot, sink, and microwave. A mini-fridge nestled beneath the sink, and a cabinet hung on the wall above it.

“It’s not much,” Rogers apologized, “But you should find it comfy and safe in the short term.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s more than I expected. Thank you, this is nice.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Rogers replied. “Most guests find our quarters cramped like a hotel room.”

Eddie jabbed a thumb in his chest. “I live in a camper, remember?”

Rogers pointed out the obvious. “Bathroom to the right. Be careful with the shower. The water gets extremely hot, so turn it on before you step inside to make sure it doesn’t scald you. You do not want to expose that shoulder to the hot water in this place.”

“Check,” Eddie replied. “But it’s feeling a lot better.”

Rogers nodded. “Pleiadian medicine can work miracles.” He continued the tour, pointing as he went. “Bed, couch, table, you can put your clothes away there. Sorry we didn’t give you time to pack any, but we do have sweatsuits and t-shirts available, as well as standard-issue underwear. Toiletries are in the bathroom. There’s the television – yes, we have cable but no porn, before you ask. The sink, the microwave, and you should find glasses, condiments, and plates in the cabinet. Questions?”

Eddie shook his head. “I think that covers it.”

“Good,” Rogers replied. “I have a meeting but assigned a couple of guards to stand watch by your door.”

“Is that really necessary?” Eddie asked. “It’s not like the halls here are teeming with hostile aliens.”

Rogers nodded. “Noted, but it’s more about keeping you out of trouble, to be honest.”

“So I’m a prisoner then?” Eddie asked.

Rogers waived off the suggestion. “Not at all, Mr. King! But there are things in this facility that a human being shouldn’t stumble upon unprepared.”

Eddie knew a prison when he saw one. Rogers asked earlier for his trust based on the capital of their shared adventure but seemed unwilling to reciprocate the favor. “You say I’m save the planet, but I can’t get a day pass to your intergalactic zoo?”

The last phrase he added to irk the Director. He remembered Rogers blasting Frank for referring to the place as a zoo.

Rogers sighed. “You’re looking at me like I have two heads, Mr. King. And I would know because I’ve seen how people react the first time they meet a being with two heads.”

Eddie threw up his arms. “Fine, I get it. You don’t want an outsider creeping around your top-secret facility. Can I at least get a deck of cards?”

Rogers pulled open the middle of the three drawers to the left of the sink basin. He retrieved an unopened deck of cards and tossed them to Eddie. “Silverware is in the top drawer, just in case. I’ll return for you later, and we’ll continue the three-dollar tour.”

Rogers left Eddie alone, his first moment of privacy since EGAD arrived on the scene at the Time Capsule. His surroundings were much more agreeable before he was made to feel like a captive. Over the course of a short conversation, the room shrank from a mansion to a jail cell.

Eddie opened the cards and removed them from the box. They were coated and shuffled easily, but he lost interest and laid them aside. He was hungry and checked the fridge. It was empty except for a shiny, metallic carousel in the center. “What the hell? Not even a Coke?”

“Coca-Cola,” said a chipper, computerized female voice. The air shimmered inside the small refrigerator, and a twelve-ounce can of the soft drink materialized on the carousel. “Pre-New Coke formula per the Director’s orders,” the voice announced. “Temperature, a perfect 34 degrees Fahrenheit, 1.11 degrees Celsius. Enjoy!”

Eddie reached into the refrigerator and removed the can. “Whoa!”

He hooked a finger into the old-fashioned pull tab and peeled it open. It had been many years since he last saw a removable tab on an aluminum can. He gulped down a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find the soft drink smoother than the formula he usually drank. Why would anyone ever mess with such perfection?  He tossed the pull tab into the recycling bin. “I could get used to this.”

“It’s mighty handy, Mr. Eddie, sir,” a deep baritone announced from the hallway. Atticus filled the doorway with his brawn. He was the ghostly apparition Eddie met in the conference room.

Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted company, but he left the door open, so it was hard to blame Atticus for misinterpreting it as an invitation. Besides, would it matter to a ghost if it was closed or not? “Atticus, come in.”

“I use the replicator in my room to whip up foods from my own time that I can’t get in the commissary,” Atticus explained as he floated into the room. “And yes, I can eat. I have to go solid, but it’s worth it for a good meal.”

Bruce the Bat-Boy and Bob, the Gray alien, trailed Atticus into the room. Bruce’s wings kept him afloat just over Bob’s left shoulder.

“Is it safe?” Eddie asked as he took his seat once more. “The replicated food, I mean.”

Bob nodded. “Extremely. The technology is commonplace in intergalactic travel. It rearranges the molecules of recycled items to produce desired goods. The technology replicates many things, but food items are the most commonly requested. An added bonus is that it can replicate taste and texture without adding carbs, sugar, sodium, and other harmful ingredients.”

As great as the last part sounded, Eddie held up the soft drink can and creased his nose. “I’m drinking garbage?”

Bruce flitted to the ceiling and hovered over the table. “I thought humans always ate garbage. At least since the middle of the last century.”

“No,” Eddie laughed. “Of course not! Where did you get an idea like that?”

Bob took a seat at the table. “He means the processed foods so prevalent in your society.”

Eddie thought about it for a moment and chuckled. “Well, I guess you have a good point there, Bat-Boy!”

Bruce shrieked and dived for the table. Eddie ducked, but Bruce’s talons latched onto his shoulders. He straddled Eddie’s head and sat on it. Despite the wonders of Pleiadian medicine, Eddie’s injured shoulder was far too tender to support the added weight or endure Bruce’s sharp claws. The fuming Bat-Boy leaned over his unwitting human perch and met Eddie’s gaze upside-down.

“Let this serve as your only warning, Starseed,” Bruce spat through gritted teeth. “My name is Bruce, not Bat-Boy! Not ever Bat-Boy! Are we clear?”

Eddie tried to pry himself loose but couldn’t break Bruce’s grip. “Are you insane? Get off me, asshole!”

Bob and Atticus tried to help, but when Bruce’s talons latched onto something, it was difficult to pry him loose if he didn’t wish to cooperate. The four wrestled around the room like rugby players locked in a scrum.

Bruce’s naked rump slid off Eddie’s head. He got turned around somehow, and Eddie found himself face-to-face with Bruce’s junk. Atticus grabbed the creature’s wings and tried to yank him loose, but Bruce’s tiny hands clung to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s head became the pivot point in their tug of war.

Bob reminded everyone that fighting was against the rules, but no one listened. Bruce extricated his wings from Atticus’s grip. The apparition sprawled to the floor and phased through it.

Eddie and Bruce careened in the opposite direction. Bruce flapped his wings wildly to regain their balance, but he and Eddie together were too top-heavy. Their momentum slammed them into the wall behind them. The frantic wing-flapping also knocked over the floor lamp but allowed Bruce to scramble back onto Eddie’s head. Eddie caught their reflection in the wall mirror just before they crashed into it. He wore Bruce’s ass as a hat. A literal ass-hat! 

The mirror shattered, and shards of broken glass littered the floor. Eddie and Bruce lurched off the mirror frame and knocked poor Bob to the ground. Atticus phased from the floor and rejoined the free-for-all. There were screams and shouts and more than a few choice curse words exchanged as they thrashed about the room.

Eddie yelled when Bruce bit his left index finger. He accidentally punched Atticus in the jaw when he tried to retaliate.

“Mr. Eddie! You hit me!” Atticus yelled over the fray.

“Sorry, Atticus, but the nasty little booger is chewing on my hand!” Eddie replied. “I didn’t realize you had turned solid.”

Why would a ghost go solid in a fight?

“How else am I supposed to grab him?” Atticus asked.

The answer made more sense than the fight itself.

“Sorry,” said Eddie.

Bob yanked Bruce’s long bifurcated tail, and the Bat-Boy shrieked. Eddie was happy to free his finger from his assailant’s mouth. It also did Eddie the favor of removing Bruce’s junk from his face, but he slid onto Eddie’s back again. For his part, Bob didn’t take part in the actual fight. He was trying to break up the free-for-all. Unfortunately, he lacked the physical prowess to make a difference. No one heeded his continued insistence they end the brawl either. Instead, he became an unwitting tumbleweed tossed about in the macabre melee.

The round dining table toppled over and wiped out one of the chairs with it. The vase of fake flowers that sat on the table broke when it slammed into the concrete floor beneath the Berber.

Eddie stumbled back and stepped on the delicate spindle construction that decorated the chair back. The spindles snapped beneath his weight. The jostling carried them into the dresser. The television tumbled to the floor and shattered.

Atticus nearly plucked Bruce from Eddie’s shoulders, but the creature held on with white knuckles. Eddie saw an opening and popped him between the eyes with the television remote. The nasty, close-range attack only escalated the Bat-Boy’s boiling anger.

“Well, what do we have here?” asked Shamus, the Leprechaun. He leaned against the door frame and watched the proceedings with great amusement. Atticus’s left jab materialized and busted Eddie’s lip.

“Sorry, Mr. Eddie,” Atticus apologized. “I was trying to hit Bruce. He moved, and you weren’t paying attention. It was an ….”

Shamus snapped his fingers.

Eddie found his nose planted in the corner by the desk.

“To think I wasted all that money on the pay-per-view last night,” said Shamus as he entered the room. “I’m not sure there are enough steroids in the whole blasted federation to top what I just witnessed!”

“Put me down, leprechaun!” Bruce demanded. It sounded like he was in the opposite corner and suspended high above the bed.

The leprechaun entered the room and hopped onto the bed. “Look at this mess! What a disgrace! Gentlemen, we’re on the same team, or we are supposed to be! Do you want Rogers to find the room in this condition?”

“He called me a Bat-Boy!” Bruce replied.

“So you attacked him?” Shamus asked. “He’s new.”

Bruce shrieked his reply. “No one calls me Bat-Boy! You know that!”

“That’s what the tabloid calls you!” Eddie shot back. “You know, the tabloid that bears the name of the organization you work for?”

“I don’t have to like it!” Bruce replied.

“Geez, dude!” said Eddie. “I didn’t mean to offend you! How am I supposed to know?” He floated about an inch off the ground. The leprechaun’s magic turned him around to face the center of the room.  

Bruce was indeed pressed high into the opposite corner as Eddie supposed. He, too, was held in thrall by the diminutive being seated cross-legged on the bed. Neither Bob nor Atticus were deposed.

“So, new guy, you meant no offense?” Shamus asked Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. “Not at all. This stuff is new to me! How am I supposed to know what offends him and what doesn’t?” 

Shamus turned Bruce around to face the room as well. “See there, old chap? An honest mistake. No ill will intended, my good man.”

“I still didn’t hear an apology,” said Bruce.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie emphasized. “Okay? I had no idea you didn’t like being called….”

“Don’t say it,” Bob warned. “Unless you want to go through the whole pathetic squabble again.”

Atticus stepped between Eddie and Bruce and craned his neck back and forth from one corner to the other. “Everything is square between you two?”

Both Eddie and Bruce nodded.

“Apology accepted,” said Bruce.

Shamus released his magical grip on the antagonists. “There! Now isn’t that better?”

Eddie surveyed his room. It was a disaster. “Rogers is going to kill me!”

“Kill us all, you mean,” Bruce added. “He’ll take this out of our paychecks for sure.”

“What about me? I don’t even have a paycheck,” Eddie screeched.

Atticus whistled at the comment. “I don’t know, Mr. Eddie, but it won’t be good. I may not be the only ghost on the team after he sees this!”

“Gentlemen, if I may?” Shamus asked. He snapped his fingers, and the room was visitor-ready. The only detail the leprechaun missed was the comforter on the bed.  

Eddie straightened the crumpled comforter. “That’s amazing!”

Shamus nodded. “It was nothing, little more than a parlor trick.”

Eddie ran his finger over the repaired television screen. “Incredible! Not even a scratch!”

“Again, child’s play,” Shamus added.

Eddie sat on his bed. It was firmer than he preferred, but who was he to complain? His kitchen table doubled as box springs. “Rogers sent all of you to guard me?”

Atticus shook his head. “Not all of us. Just Bruce and me.”

“I tagged along to assist the Starseed with your performance issues,” Bob admitted.

The others snickered at the small alien’s proclamation. 

Eddie shook his head. “Nope. Let’s find a better way to phrase that, shall we?”

“You freeze up when it is time to perform,” Bob restated.

Eddie plopped onto his bed and threw his hands in the air. “Bob, you’re killing me!”

Bruce shot Eddie a sidelong grin. “They make a little purple pill for that, you know.”

“Not the same thing!” Eddie shot back.

No sign of malice was evident in Bob’s expressionless face.

“I can’t manifest the Starseed,” Eddie replied while sitting up. “It has nothing to do with performance anxiety, and I don’t need a little purple pill.”

“Why can’t you manifest the Starseed?” Atticus asked. “I wanted to ask during the meeting but didn’t want to seem rude.”

Bruce hopped on the bed. “I wondered about that myself. I hoped Lexi would ask since she’s the mouthy one, but she wasn’t paying attention, and Rogers got on a roll.”

Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t even know it was a part of me until Rogers and Priscilla dropped the bomb on me.”

“So, is the other rumor true?” Shamus asked.

Eddie was afraid to ask about the scuttlebutt on the grapevine. “No idea.”

“You and Agent Day,” Bruce explained. “Did the two of you….”

Eddie formed a T-shape with his hands. “Timeout! We’re not here to talk about my sex life!”

“Sex life?” Bruce asked. “So you did! What was that like?’

Sex talk never bothered Eddie. He often bragged about his prowess with the ladies to his friends at the Time Capsule. Why did it bother him to lay it out with Priscilla’s co-workers about her?

“Ah,” said Shamus. “I think ye found a nerve, Brucie Boy!”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Eddie asked. “Let’s go back to my performance anxiety.”

Shamus removed his hat. “Well, I tip my hat to you then, lad. Agent Day is quite the looker! Bet there were no performance issues with her in the sack, eh Mate?”

Atticus flipped on the television. “The Yankees are up by three on the Red Sox in the bottom of the sixth. We could watch the last three innings.”

Everyone scrambled to a seat. Eddie wasn’t much interested in the game. Baseball was too slow for him. The sport was a passion as a kid, but he became more of a football guy as he got older. He grabbed the cards off the table and reshuffled them. He laid them out in a Solitaire grid. The hand he dealt was terrible. There were no Aces to play, and most of the face-up cards were low numbers except for the ten of clubs. All but that lone ten were red as well.

Bob peeked over his shoulder. “That’s a terrible draw. Your odds of winning are….”

“I don’t need the odds,” Eddie replied. “I’ve beaten worse draws than this.”

Eddie was a purist when it came to Solitaire. He drew three cards at a time, and once he played a card, that’s where it lay. He didn’t win as often as some people, but nothing could match the feeling of triumph whenever he beat the game.

“You play a lot of cards, Eddie?” Atticus asked.

Eddie shrugged. “Not really, Solitaire mainly. I’ve dabbled with poker but usually lose my shirt when I play.”

Atticus stabbed his index finger into the air. “Ah, then Poker it is, gentlemen!”

Before Eddie could argue, Atticus swiped the Solitaire game from the table and shuffled the cards. He was an expert dealer. The cards performed in his hands like a smoky-throated lounge singer rolling around on the lid of a grand piano. The others plopped into the seats around the table.

Bruce raised the rolling office chair to maximum height and pushed it to the table. “Yeah, yeah! We get it! You worked on a riverboat. Just deal the damn cards already!”

A gleeful grin spread across Atticus’s face as he doled out the cards.

“I’m not sure I should play,” Shamus said. “Luck o’ the Irish an’ all. It wouldn’t be fair to ye gents.”

“Nonsense,” Atticus replied. “Poker is a game of skill, my friend, not luck. Besides, we’re just buddies sitting around a table enjoying ourselves. It’s not like we’re playing for high stakes.”

Shamus floated cross-legged to the table and hovered there, eschewing a chair altogether. “Then what are ye waiting fer, lad? Deal me in!”

“I must point out that if he floats too high, he can see our cards,” Bob protested.

“Ye’ll jest have to trust me,” Shamus replied. “What are the stakes then?”

Atticus returned the deck to the center of the table. “Penny poker, nothing elaborate. Rogers would kill us.”              

Eddie hoped the lack of a sizeable monetary payoff would discourage the game, and everyone would leave him alone. He was tired and wanted a good night’s sleep.

“Penny Poker?” Bruce asked. “I guess it’s better than nothing.” He fluttered to the desk and returned to his chair with a pen and a pad of paper. “I’ll be the house and keep track of everyone’s money.”

The players eyed one another uncomfortably.

“What about Bob?” Atticus asked. “He’s strait-laced as they come.”

Everyone turned to the Gray alien.

Bob nodded. “Your confidence makes me proud.”

“Hey!” Bruce added. “Are you guys saying you don’t trust me?” When no one answered, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and passed the pad and pen to Bob.

“Deuces and One-Eyed Jacks are wild,” Atticus called. “Bidding opens at a penny.”

Everyone agreed to ante up. Eddie grabbed his cards from the table. The hand wasn’t bad, but nothing to brag about either, the King and Jack of Diamonds, two eights, and a three.

Bob was to the right of the dealer, so he asked first. “Give me two.”

“Three,” said Bruce.

Shamus stayed, which made Eddie nervous. He was a leprechaun, after all. Perhaps his luck was unbeatable.

Eddie decided to toss the eights and the three. “Three as well.”

Atticus dealt him three cards face-down.

Eddie added them to his hand. They were a seven of hearts, a two of spades, and a nine of clubs.

“And the dealer takes one,” said Atticus, removing the top card from the deck and tossing one into the discard pile.

Eddie tossed his cards onto the table. “Fold.”

“Fold,” Bob replied.

Bruce nodded. “I’m out too. I ain’t got shit!”

The hand was to be won or lost between Shamus and Atticus.

“Read them and weep,” said Atticus. “A flush, all diamonds!”

Shamus studied the cards and sighed. “Very impressive, my friend! All I have is this measly full house.” He laid the cards onto the table with a wolfish smile.

An hour passed. Either Atticus or Shamus won most hands, but Bruce took a few as well. Eddie’s cards were mostly garbage, but he enjoyed the impromptu gathering despite his earlier hermit desires.

“You know what we need?” Bob asked. He tossed a discarded hand to Atticus.  “What is Poker without beer?”

“And some chips,” Bruce added.

Atticus retrieved a cigar from his shirt pocket. “I’ve been saving this baby for a special occasion, and I can’t think of a better time to light up!”

Bruce and Bob disappeared into the hallway.

Atticus leaned back and took a drag from his cigar. “So, you have no idea how to manifest the Starseed?”

Eddie wasn’t a big fan of cigars, but the high-dollar Cuban’s smoke smelled sweet and not at all repugnant like its cheap American cousins. He shook his head. “None whatsoever. You’d think with the situation so dire, this thing wouldn’t make it so hard. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to do.”

“No one does, lad,” Shamus replied. “It’s the nature of the Starseed. Everyone manifests differently, but ye can bet ye were chosen for a reason.”

Bob and Bruce returned with bread, sandwich meat, chips, and beer. Everyone’s faces brightened.

“Thank you, guys, for this,” said Eddie.

“Think nothing of it,” Bob replied. “The kitchen is so well-stocked they’ll not miss any of it.”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just the food, but the company. I didn’t know I needed it. You seem like a good bunch of fellas.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, Eddie, sir,” Atticus answered. “Especially for someone twenty-three dollars in the hole already.”

“What?” Eddie shrieked. “How the hell did that happen?”

The group burst into laughter at Eddie’s expense.

Eddie grabbed the ledger from Bob’s hands and studied it. The numbers were not in his favor. “Fair enough, but remember I wasn’t the one who called for Poker in the first place.”

Bob twisted the lid off a bottle of Bud Light using telekinesis. The cap unscrewed itself, lifted into the air, and deposited itself on the table next to Atticus’s ashtray.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Eddie.

Shamus flipped his cards over in a pile face-down and creased his brow. “What the bloody hell? I literally teleported ye sorry bum from the center of the room to the corner and put your room back together after ye destroyed it! Now you say the little gombeen twisting a cap off a bottle is the coolest thing ye’ve ever seen?”

Bob floated a beer to Eddie and popped the cap in appreciation.

Eddie lifted the bottle to toast Bob and pivoted back to Shamus. “It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate your magic, but it’s harder to enjoy the showmanship if you’re on the ass end of the trick.”

Shamus nodded with a devilish smile and snapped his fingers. The caps popped off every bottle in the case and appeared on the table next to the players. A round of applause filled the room.

Eddie spent the next couple of hours enjoying good company. He got a feel for the team dynamic. Bruce was the loud-mouthed one, always ready to fight and a little dense. Bob was much more analytical and eschewed violence, even-tempered, and dropped pop culture references with the best of them. Shamus was the peacemaker and Atticus the level-headed one, a trait that drew him to the apparition.

“So, does Rogers have any ideas on where to find the Starseed’s ignition switch?” Bruce asked.

“He hasn’t shared much with me about it, to be honest,” Eddie replied. “I’m not sure if I’m here to learn to use the power or to keep me safe from the little Gray boogeymen.”

Bob folded and laid his cards on the table. “Not offensive at all.”

“Sorry,” said Eddie. “I didn’t even think.”

Bob shrugged. “It’s okay. My people are mostly assholes anyway.”

It was Shamus’s turn to deal. He distributed the cards, and Eddie studied his hand. It was the worst one he received in a night of poor hands.

“Any word from Priscilla?” Bruce blurted out.

The other players glared at him.

“What?” Bruce asked. “I just thought maybe someone heard something.”

Shamus tossed three cards to Atticus. “Last time I checked, there was no word from the lass.” He looked across the table at Eddie. “But Agent Day’s one of the best. I’m sure she’s doing just fine.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie lied. “She’s a tough one.”

Atticus nodded. “The toughest.”

“But the Gray are the best torturers in the galaxy,” Bruce added.

Atticus raised an eyebrow. “Would you kindly… how is it this generation puts it? Ah yes, shut the fuck up?”

“So we’re just going to pretend everything is hunky-dory for Puppy Love’s sake here?” Bruce asked. “Priscilla’s my friend too, and I’m worried sick about her.”

Bob tossed a couple of cards to Shamus and held up two fingers.

Shamus dealt him the top two cards.

“I’m afraid I’ve had a little too much alcohol,” said Bob. “I wanted three cards.”

Shamus shook his head. “Ye asked for two, mate.”

“Fold,” Bob replied. He flipped the cards in his hand face-down.

“Dealer’s got nothing,” said Shamus. He tossed his cards onto the table. “Bruce?”

The bat-creature fluttered his wings behind him while he studied his cards. “I’ll raise a dollar.”

“A dollar?” Atticus asked. He studied his cards and shrugged. “Alright, I’m in. Eddie?”

Eddie knew he should fold, but something told him to meet their challenge. “I’ll see you the dollar and raise you two.”

“What happened to penny bets?” Bob mumbled.

“Sometimes a man just gets a good hand,” Atticus replied. “Okay, Starseed, I’ll bite. Bruce?”

Bruce smiled. “I’ll see your bet and raise ten dollars.”

A hush fell over the room.

Atticus tossed his cards on the table. “I’m done.”

All eyes looked to Eddie. “Done, and I raise you one-hundred dollars.”

The air went out of the room. Bruce gulped. A hundred bucks was a fortune when playing for pennies. Bruce shook his head. “I’m out. Starseed finally has a decent hand!”

Eddie revealed his miserable hand. “Read ‘em and weep, boys.”

“Son of a bitch!” Bruce exclaimed. He threw his cards onto the table. He held a straight.

The room howled in revelry. The camaraderie was intoxicating.

“Look at the Starseed selling a bluff!” said Atticus. “I did not see that coming!”

“So where does that put his balance, Bob?” Shamus asked.

Bob grabbed his pen and paper and made some calculations. “That hand brings his balance to a negative twelve dollars.”

Eddie’s misfortune drew a round of taunts and jeers. He joined in, even if it was at his own expense. It felt good to laugh again.

Rogers poked his head in the door. “And what’s going on in here that has the troops so ably entertained?”

Atticus held up the deck of cards. “Starseed here is hustling us all!”

Rogers smiled. “Oh, is that right? Taking advantage of my troops, Mr. King?”

Eddie shook his head vehemently. “I’m so far in the hole I’ll never climb out.”

“What he means is he’s just getting warmed up,” Atticus added. “A real card shark, this one!”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” said Eddie. “Want to play, sir?”

Rogers shook his head. “I’d love to empty all your pockets, but word is a Gray vessel just de-cloaked near Ceres. I’m not sure what they’re planning, but it’s big.”

Bob stood. “I’ll come with you, Director.”

Rogers gestured for him to return to his seat. “No need for that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown and all. You guys go back to your card game. I’ll call if I need you.”

Everyone seemed fine with the rebuttal and returned to their cards, except Eddie. He looked up, and Rogers smiled at him with a slight nod of approval before he exited. 

Atticus tossed out a fresh round of cards and grabbed another beer. “Alright, Starseed, you won that round. Let’s see if you can climb out of that deep hole.”

Eddie retrieved his cards. He had a full house. “A penny at a time!”

Maybe things were looking up for a change.

Chapter Eighteen

L exi, Bob, and Rogers sat across from Eddie at the walnut conference table where Rogers introduced him to the team. Rogers occupied the middle seat with Lexi to his left and Bob to the right. Discarded playing cards gathered at the center of the table like clouds before a storm. Rogers held up yet another card and kept its face hidden from Eddie. “Well, Mr. King?”

Cards.

Again.

Eddie stared at the elaborate design that decorated the back of the deck and tried hard to “read” the front as Bob instructed. “Three of diamonds.”

Rogers tossed the card to the growing pile of missed guesses. “Seven of clubs.”

“Damn!” Eddie sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Rogers shuffled the remainder of the cards he held in his hand. “No need to apologize, Mr. King. You’re doing your best.”

Since being introduced to the team the night before, Eddie spent most of his time in the medical wing or engaged in familiar vices such as gambling and fighting. However, the Starseed remained quiet as the sleep of death. Rogers suggested an exercise designed to measure extra-sensory perception. He hoped it would jumpstart Eddie’s connection with the mysterious entity. The discard pile was a testament to its ineffectiveness.

Lexi entered the errant result into her laptop and popped her gum. Her eyes never left the screen.

“Let’s try again,” said Rogers. He raided another card from the shrinking deck.

“Concentrate,” Bob instructed. “Don’t guess.”

Eddie dropped his head and sighed. “I don’t see anything. Guessing is all I’ve got.”

Rogers eyed Eddie intensely. “You can do this, Mr. King. What card am I holding?”

Eddie had no idea. “Nine of hearts.”

“I thought you had it there for a second,” said Rogers. He flipped the card to the table. It slid face-up across the heap of jumbled rejects. It was the nine of spades.

“This is getting us nowhere,” said Eddie. “Are you sure I’m the host?”

Lexi popped another bubble. The explosion was louder than the previous one. “He’s got a point, Boss. He kind of sucks at this!”

“Please, girl! Must you do that with your gum? It sounds like gunfire in my ears,” said Bob. “It’s bad enough that you chew like a cow.”

Lexi recorded the miss with the nine of spades. “And you look like a cow’s butt. We have something in common, huh?”

“I don’t wish to argue with you,” Bob replied. “I’m asking nicely. Please refrain from popping your gum. It’s annoying.”

“Nicely?” Lexi asked. “I have a name, you know. It’s not “girl,” and I don’t appreciate being compared to a cow!”

Rogers rapped his knuckles against the table. “Can it, you two! Our focus should be on helping Mr. King access his powers, not your childish arguments.”

Lexi rolled her eyes.

“Are we sure his powers are extra-sensory in nature?” Bob asked.

“It pains me to admit it but short, gray, and hairless has a point,” Lexi added. “We could be barking up the wrong tree altogether. Dude’s got it right on three of 109 attempts.”

Rogers drummed his fingers on the desk. “Let’s not lose sight of what we’re doing here. Accuracy isn’t the goal. I hope to trigger the part of Mr. King’s brain that may jumpstart his powers.”

It sounded reasonable. Or at least as reasonable as anything else to do with EGAD. “Kind of like priming the pump?” Eddie asked.              

Rogers nodded. “Exactly like that.”

“Then why record the results?” Lexi asked.

Rogers tapped Lexi’s screen to drive home the matter.  “To gather data points to track trends.”

Lexi blew another bubble and eyed Bob. She deflated it softly. “The only trend I see is how badly he sucks at this.”

Eddie sighed. “She’s not wrong.”

“I have an idea,” said Bob. “Let’s try again.”

Eddie buried his face in his hands. “I appreciate the support, but it’s hopeless, Bob.”

Rogers drew a card from the deck and held it up.

Eddie stared at it, but nothing came to mind. “Uno.”

Rogers sighed and tossed the card to the table. It froze in midair and floated back into his hand.

“Stop,” said Bob.

“Whoa!” said Eddie. “Did you just…”

Bob waved a long, bony finger. “That isn’t important. Close your eyes, Eddie.”

Surrendering to Bob’s request was easier than arguing. Eddie shut his eyes and fought the urge to yawn. Poker lasted into the wee hours of the morning. Bob seemed unencumbered by the lack of sleep, but Eddie was running on fumes.

“Clear your mind,” Bob instructed. “Make it a blank slate. Now imagine a chalkboard with your name written on it. Do you see it?”

Chalkboards were boring. Eddie envisioned the marquee outside the Time Machine instead. His name was displayed in lights. “Yes, I see it.”

Bob’s smooth voice continued. “Now wipe the board clean.”

One by one, the lights snuffed from Eddie’s name. The Queen of Hearts materialized in their place.

“Queen of Hearts?” Eddie asked.

Rogers flipped the card over with a smile and held it by the corner. It was indeed the Queen of Hearts.

“Holy crap!” Lexi shouted. She sat up, showing genuine interest for the first time since the exercise began. “That’s his first one in forever!”

Eddie forced a grin, still unable to accept the result. “I didn’t even guess! It’s like I could see it at the front of my mind!”

“You’re welcome,” Bob explained with a hint of smugness in his smooth, metallic voice. “I showed you the correct card telepathically so you would understand the proper part of the brain you should employ for the exercise.”

“Let’s try it again,” said Rogers. He took a card from the top of the deck and studied it. 

Eddie cleared his mind and viewed the marquee again. His name appeared there and gave way to an unmistakable face. “It’s the Joker.”

Rogers tossed the Joker onto the table and smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“This time, try it on your own,” said Bob. “You know where to visualize it now.”

Eddie nodded and waited. Perhaps there was a Starseed in him after all.

Rogers drew another card. A wry smile crossed his lips.

Eddie cleared his mind and searched for the marquee but saw nothing.

“Find that space in the front of your brain,” Bob cooed. “You’ve touched it before, so you should be able to locate it on your own.”

Eddie searched hard for the marquee, but Priscilla’s face popped into his mind instead. He hoped she was alive and well. Of course, she was! She had to be! Priscilla was a resourceful and capable woman, well-trained in things Eddie barely understood. She spent half her time since they met protecting him. Other than sex, the only role he played in their non-relationship was to give her something to worry about besides her own safety. That’s what got her taken in the first place. He wanted to return the favor. If an imaginary electronic billboard would help, he was all for it. The marquee returned, and the lights blared his name. They flickered out again, but no image appeared in their place. They were just dead.

“Yo, Edward!” Lexi shouted. “Earth to Eddie!”

Eddie snapped out of his trance and stared into expectant faces. Everyone waited for him to announce the card.

Rogers waved it in his hand. “We haven’t got all day, Mr. King. Well, actually, we do, but I digress.”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Eddie apologized. “Four of diamonds?”

Rogers flipped the card onto the table. It was the King of Spades. “And you were on a roll too.”

The palpable excitement felt moments before died like the lights on the marquee.

Eddie ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this.”

Rogers gathered the cards and stuffed them back into the shiny, waxed box from which they came. “It doesn’t seem to help you with your gift.”

“I’m not sure I have a gift,” Eddie replied.

Rogers tossed the boxed deck to the center of the table. “The Starseed picked you for a reason, Mr. King. We’re not giving up.”

“Elvis was a singer, and so am I,” said Eddie. “That has to be the connection.”

“That certainly is a possibility,” Bob interjected. “But the Starseed chose Elvis for his ability to affect social change. The musical form he popularized evolved into the peace movement of the 1960s, when humanity was in danger of destroying the world many times over. It is admirable that you choose to honor his achievements with your career choice. However, I doubt you were chosen for your profession. There have been many impersonators since Mr. Presley’s untimely death. And many of them are far better at the trade than you.”

Like Eddie’s ego needed another kick in the groin. “Gee, thanks. I wasn’t sure everyone knew I was a tribute artist.”

“Everybody knows about your loser job,” Lexi replied. “It’s kind of your thing.”

“Ignore her,” said Rogers. “What Bob is trying to say is that the social movement that evolved from rock and roll and the changes that followed have already taken place. Starseeds rarely do things the same way twice. Before Elvis, American author and suffragist Ida Husted Harper hosted the entity, Swiss chemist Germain Henri Hess before her, and before him Chinese poet Yuan Mei. Along with Mr. Presley, these men and women advanced and influenced society in very different ways.”

Eddie wasn’t sure who all those other people were, but they sounded important. “So why me? What do I have to offer that could measure up to their contributions?”

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” said Lexi. She laid her head on the table and rested it on her arms.

Rogers shot the teenager a scowl. She sat up straight until his attention drifted to his watch. He tapped its face, and a holographic keyboard appeared before him. The message he typed was short and quick. He swiped the holograph away with a wave of his hand, and it disappeared. “That’s what we must find out. If an invasion force is imminent, we need humanity’s best chance to repel it.”

The conference room door opened. Frank stuck his head in the room.

“You messaged me?” Frank asked.

Rogers gestured toward Eddie. “I did. Our attempts at psychic manipulation failed to jumpstart the Awakening. Perhaps it’s time to try something more physical.”

Frank’s lips twisted into a dastardly smile. “Physical, you say? It would be my pleasure.”

Eddie gulped.

Chapter Nineteen

P riscilla crawled from her hiding place within the abandoned flying saucer. She stood on numb, tingly legs and strapped her hard-won blaster-rifle over her shoulder. Her back hurt from spending the night cooped up in the cargo hold, but she was alive. She counted that as a win even as her angry stomach grumbled its dissatisfaction. She tiptoed across the spaceship’s smooth, metal floor to the empty door frame and dismounted from the antique vessel’s gutted hull. It creaked as she bounded to the ground, a reminder of its advanced age and dilapidated condition.

It was vital to resume her exploration of the cavernous space. Before pursuers forced into hiding the night before, Priscilla reached a wall that separated the salvage yard from the mysterious void beyond the demarcation.

A trench filled with a mysterious amber liquid knifed through the facility and flowed through an opening in the wall. Thoughts of the wall and trench troubled Priscilla’s mind throughout the night until she fell into a merciful, albeit fitful, sleep in the hold. She guessed the thick goo drained somewhere and hoped that following it would lead to a means of escape.

Shoes were a pressing need. The concrete floor was not only cold on Priscilla’s bare feet, but the debris and poor lighting proved a precarious combination. A single, careless misstep could badly injure an exposed foot and hobble her escape efforts. But at least the discarded junk provided stealth as she picked her way through it.

The slow, deliberate journey finally ended at the wall.  A single, spine-chilling word posted by the entrance meant Priscilla was in Dulce, the most notorious Gray stronghold of them all.

“Polaris.”

What horrors awaited her in the unknown? Priscilla steeled her nerves to leave behind the relative safety of the scrap yard’s muted shadows and darted past the wall to explore the base’s infamous secrets.  

The yawning expanse beyond the boundary was littered with technology, but it was no salvage yard. The equipment looked new and was highly advanced, even for the Gray. Another wall loomed ahead.

A glint of the eerie blue lighting above reflected in the chrome handle of a wrench on a nearby workbench. The playful twinkle seemed out of place among the dreaded facility’s oppressive ambiance and demanded Priscilla’s attention.

An unknown device rested by the workbench and warranted a closer look as well. The assembly was roughly the size of a tractor-trailer engine. Sealed crates of various sizes littered the space and suggested the project was incomplete. A long, opaque glass tube lay in an open crate next to the device, still nestled in white packing foam. Its lid was tossed aside, which was bad news. Work in progress meant Priscilla likely wasn’t alone. She studied the components, but their purpose remained a mystery.

A hangar door loomed in the distance along the back wall. It could be a way out. She made a start for it, but the unmistakable clicks and pops of approaching Gray conversing in their native tongue forced her to shelter behind the unopened crates.

Four Gray approached, three of the taller variety and one of the shorter. The taller aliens listened intently to their shorter counterpart. It was unusual to hear the species speak aloud to one another, given their preference for telepathy. Bob taught the basics of their language at the Academy, but the clanging pipes overhead made it difficult to decipher their conversation. Even without the additional racket, Priscilla was a novice at the tongue and doubted she could translate. 

The Gray resumed work on the device. Telekinesis wrangled the heavy glass tube into proper alignment with the already assembled portion but only after several attempts. One of the taller Gray assisted with some good, old-fashioned elbow grease. Once it was in place, they secured the connection with a coupling mechanism.

They checked the seal with a small, handheld scanner and imaged the connection from multiple angles. The scanner reassembled the images into a whole and projected them onto a hologram display monitor that hovered above the workbench. They manipulated the hologram with their hands, turning it every which way to examine it. They ran simulations to test the connection.

Satisfied with the quality of their work, one of the Tall Gray powered on the device. A murky emerald glow filled the opaque tube with a burst of verdant light. They ran some more simulations, powered it down, and rechecked the connection.

Whatever its purpose, Priscilla assumed the device was most likely bad news. Unknown technology and the Gray were never a good combination. She considered destroying the device with her blaster, but such a move would be foolhardy and likely guaranteed certain death.

Without knowing the device’s purpose, it was impossible to weigh the value of its destruction and her subsequent death against that of the intelligence she gathered about Dulce. The device’s destruction would likely yield a short-term benefit, but the intelligence had the potential to pay dividends for generations. So little was known about the base. If she survived, she could fill in a lot of gaps in EGAD’s intel. The knowledge was useless if it perished with her. 

Priscilla wanted to move on, but it was too risky with the Gray so close. So she waited, knowing the longer she hid, the greater her risk of being discovered. A stray cough or sneeze would alert the Gray to her presence. Meditation proved its value in calming her breathing and her frayed nerves. She hoped the noisy pipes hid any incidental noises she made when she shifted position to avoid cramping.

Minutes passed like hours and hours like days, but finally, the Gray stopped working and left the project for another time. Once they disappeared beyond the wall, Priscilla scampered from her hiding spot and raced toward the hangar doors. A lock secured the pulley door chain. She was disappointed but didn’t expect the Gray to make escape easy. She passed the opening in the wall ahead and ventured deeper into the compound.

Priscilla followed the trench until she reached the facility’s rear wall. She could go no further. Small pipes pumped the goo to the ceiling and into the larger ones she followed since she fled to the lower level. In the far-left corner, opposite the trench, the overhead pipes disappeared into a brick building.

The unexpected structure was significant in its own right but dwarfed by the massive scale of the space in which it sat. It looked out of place among the concrete construction and advanced technology. The anomaly warranted closer inspection.

The brick was in a state of disrepair, eroded by dampness and time. The building was much older than the concrete military base that surrounded it. It was as if it were swallowed whole during the latter’s construction, Jonah to Dulce’s whale.

There was no door to prevent her from entering, so Priscilla ventured inside. The blue lighting motif continued within, but bulbs produced the eerie glow instead of track lighting. The light’s brightness proved erratic, pulsing one moment and dimming the next.

Hydroponic tanks filled nearly every square inch of the interior. Each tank was replete with an amber-colored liquid diluted with water. Suddenly, the goo in the trench made sense. It was pumped through the pipes, mixed with water, and into the tanks. So much for finding a way out.

Within each tank floated a creature in various stages of gestation. Some contained mere embryos, and others mature, nearly adult beings ready to survive outside the womb.  Regardless of their gestational state, each individual dangled from a single umbilical cord that sprouted tiny microfiber branches to feed them.

The beings were a genetic hybrid of human and Gray DNA. Their skin was ashen gray and their heads much less pronounced than those of the Gray, but each possessed only three fingers and two large “toes” on each foot. Their chest cavities seemed unusually shallow, relevant to the size of their bodies. Organs were visible in the nearly transparent chests of the younger beings.

Priscilla’s knees went weak staring at the hair-raising creatures floating ominously within the semi-gelatinous goo.

Each pod sat on a base. Built into each base was a dedicated monitor that tracked the vital signs of the being within. Speakers built into the bases projected audible heartbeats into the room as if the sight of the creatures suspended in the viscous fluid wasn’t creepy enough without the horror-film sound effects. The efficient grid of tanks, divided into quadrants, reminded Priscilla of the Paris arrondissements.

Priscilla was thrilled when she discovered an industrial sink along the back wall. A dried-out, dirty mop rested in an empty bucket in one of the basins and filled the air with a filthy, stale odor. But any port in a storm was a welcome one. If the sink worked, it meant water, and she needed it badly.

A slow turn of the handle slowly released a pencil-thin stream of liquid. Priscilla cupped her hands and filled them with lukewarm water. It was clear and didn’t smell. She drank several handfuls but was vigilant not to overdo it. She couldn’t afford to become waterlogged. Her thirst quenched, she moved on.

Along the back wall, Priscilla discovered another door. She grabbed the knob and twisted.

It turned. The Gray didn’t expect company in the lower levels of their underground fortress.

Priscilla hoped their hubris improved her odds of survival. The area within was much smaller than the gestation chamber and not part of the brick building. It resided in a hollowed-out space cut into the rock itself.

The pale blue light shining over Priscilla’s shoulder failed to pierce the shadows completely. Animal cages lined the room, wild ones, no doubt, based on the stench of urine and feces that assaulted her nose. Guttural grunts and defensive hisses pierced the darkness.

“Help me,” begged a weak, soft voice that froze Priscilla’s blood.

Priscilla searched the dark, creepy room for the source of the plea. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Help me,” replied the voice. It was hard to distinguish it over the barnyard of grunts and moans, but it was most definitely human and female. “Please,” the voice begged desperately.

“Where are you?” Priscilla asked.

At first, there was no reply. Priscilla wondered if her imagination played a trick on her, but then she heard the voice again.

“Here,” the voice replied.

Remembering her terrifying encounter with the serpent-girl, Priscilla tracked the voice cautiously. Her search led her to steel cages along the back wall. “Hello?”

Something within one of the cages clamped onto Priscilla’s hair and slammed her head into the steel bars. She struggled against her attacker’s grip but was unable to free herself. She wasn’t even sure what grabbed her. A primate of some sort? Her first instinct was to retrieve the blaster from her back and shoot her foe in the face, but she didn’t want to kill again unless necessary. 

“Leave her alone!” the small voice demanded, but whatever held the healthy handful of her chestnut locks didn’t listen.

The jubilant primate grunted excitedly, stirred to an even more excitable state by Priscilla’s struggle. Her attacker yanked her toward the cage again, but her forearms shielded her from the impact.

Panic set in, and Priscilla latched onto the being’s hand. She pried at the fingers that locked her in their grip. She counted four digits and then found a thumb. Whatever held her in its clutches wasn’t one of the three-fingered hybrids she saw in the hydroponic pods. But surely it wasn’t human!

Another hand grabbed her left ankle, but Priscilla stomped free of its grip. The wounded creature wailed and recoiled its crushed hand. A cacophony of steel cages rattled to life with wild, inhuman shrieks and jeers.

Priscilla’s adventure through the facility up to that point was deliberate; each step carefully orchestrated to remain hidden. It was unacceptable for the journey to end because she drew attention by unwittingly kicking a hornet’s nest. Priscilla sank her teeth into the soft flesh on the creature’s arm. She didn’t stop until she tasted blood. The beast cried out and released her.

Priscilla stumbled to the ground as she pulled away. Her lungs heaved for air. Wild, confused thoughts danced around her head as she tried to make sense of it all. Primitive shrieks erupted from the cages and filled the room with their excited cries.

Running was an option, a good one, in fact, but the pleading voice would haunt Priscilla if she fled. There was at least one human in the cages, if not more.

Still, she needed to be careful. The experience with the serpent girl taught Priscilla that things in Dulce were not always what they seemed. But the fear in the prisoner’s voice was decidedly human. Ignoring it wasn’t an option. She tried to shush the noisy prisoners, but the effort was futile. They didn’t understand.

White light flooded the room, and light-deprived eyes recoiled from the sudden wash of brightness. The bedlam quietened to a hush. Even Priscilla shied away from the intrusive glare. When her pupils adjusted, she caught her first glimpse of the captives.

Most were indeed human beings, but the caged represented a diverse sampling of lifeforms. Some were small children but wild, as if raised in isolation. Others were old and feeble, likely confined for years. Hybrids were among the imprisoned and represented a wide variety of designer species. All looked haggard and unkempt, dressed in only cloth diapers that clung to frail, malnourished bodies. The human females were bare-chested but made no effort to cover themselves, the tender sensibilities of Western civilization lost in captivity.  None of the prisoners wore shoes.

“I’m sorry,” said the weak voice Priscilla heard earlier. It came from a cage on the floor, three to the right of the man who grabbed her ankle. The girl looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. She wasn’t as skinny as the others, but Priscilla knew from the hair peeking out from beneath her armpits and her bushy legs that she wasn’t a fresh detainee. The girl’s nails also displayed the classic “spoon nails” associated with anemia. A baby bump showed when she turned around in her cage.

There was precious little time before Priscilla’s pursuers rushed into the room. She swore to use it to brighten the pregnant captive’s hellish existence. Perhaps a measure of compassion would sustain the young woman through the coming days. “No need to be sorry. What’s your name?’

The girl’s face wrinkled. “My name?”

Priscilla knelt by the girl’s cage. “Yes, your name. I’m Priscilla, and you are….”

“I think I’m called Julia,” the girl replied.

“How long have you been here, Julia?” Priscilla asked. She hoped repeating the girl’s name would help her hold onto her humanity.

“I don’t know,” Julia answered.

Perhaps she was a prisoner longer than Priscilla first believed.

“Have you always been here?” Priscilla asked.

“I don’t know. I think I had a family and went to school in a city with a big arch over the river,” Julia replied.

“St. Louis?” Priscilla pried.

Julia scowled as if in deep thought. “No, but Saint-something. Saint Louis, maybe?”

“Don’t worry, Julia,” Priscilla assured. “I’ll find a way out of here for all of us.”

Julia fell to the floor of her cage and giggled. “You are going to save me?”

“It’s going to be okay, Julia,” Priscilla replied.

Julia sat up and smiled sweetly. “My name is Molly. Maybe you recognize me from one of my movies? The Breakfast Club?”

Priscilla replied with a resigned nod. “I’m a big fan.” She wondered if the girl, whatever her actual name, comprehended her grim situation. Or were coping fantasies all that remained of her cognizance?

A big grin spread across Julia’s dirty face.

If being recognized as a famous movie star brought the girl some relief from her trauma, Priscilla was content to play along.

“What is going on in here?” demanded a clanking alto.

Priscilla knew right away the voice belonged to a Gray. She whipped around and recognized the three Tall Gray she watched earlier. 

“Sound the alarm! We have an intruder!” one of them cried.

The tallest among the aliens turned to run.

Priscilla retrieved her blaster and shot him in the back before he made it out of the room. The eruption of blaster fire frightened the caged prisoners. They retreated to the corners of their cramped cells.

The two remaining Gray scampered from the room and slammed the door shut behind them. They were unaccustomed to battle and panicked at the sight of their fallen comrade. Seasoned combatants would have pressed their numerical and tactical advantages. They had Priscilla trapped and outnumbered. But rather than frying her with their electrical abilities, they fled. She tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. They locked her inside.

Priscilla blasted the flimsy slab off its hinges and pursued them. The slowest one was an easy target. He barely made it out of the brick structure and into the larger concrete expanse. His demise reminded Priscilla of the adage about eluding dangerous animals; “I don’t need to be fast, just faster than you.”

The lone remaining Gray took cover inside one of the maintenance stations straddling the trench. He stood and hurled an electrical blast before he ducked behind it again.

Fortunately for Priscilla, the blast missed but was much too close for comfort. She ducked behind a concrete column as thick as a Redwood and waited for the alien to show himself again. They exchanged fire several times before the battle fell silent.

The haunting lull hung heavy in the dank, stale air. Gray poured through the wall in the distance. Her outmatched opponent wisely used the respite to call for backup. The reinforcements arrived and quickly surrounded her with lightning dancing on their eager fingertips. There were too many Gray to fight. 

Priscilla dropped her blaster and raised her hands in the air. “Well, it was fun while it lasted, and I dropped my fair share of you sons-of-bitches!”              

Chapter Twenty

F rank’s hulking frame dominated the shrinking gymnasium. Even the farthest corners of the basketball court seemed within reach of his tree-limb arms.

Eddie circled the Sasquatch and feigned an attack. At the last moment, he backed away and reversed direction. The wrestling mat beneath his feet felt thin as a butterfly’s wing, utterly inadequate to protect his fragile, human bones from the hard surface below.

There was no doubt it would hurt when Frank slammed him down. There was even less ambiguity that he was doomed to hit the mat hard. It was a matter of when, and not if, the Sasquatch would humiliate him in front of his new acquaintances.

And speaking of the modern-day Romans, they gathered at the mat’s edge to enjoy the slaughter, like bloodthirsty pagans at the Colosseum. At least the ladies chose to skip the carnage.

Eddie wasn’t sure how to fight an eight-foot Sasquatch. The creature possessed more muscle on a single pinky finger than he did in his entire body. “Isn’t there someone more…”

“Too good to spar with a Sasquatch?” Frank snarled.

Eddie backed off the mat and removed his mouthpiece. “I was going to say more my size.”  

Frank rested his hands on his hips and turned to Rogers. “Are you sure about this? I’ll kill him.”

Eddie was inclined to agree.

Rogers was the only one brave enough to stand on the mat with them. “Leave alive enough for the Starseed to work with.”

Eddie glared around his opponent. “Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Continue,” Rogers ordered, ignoring Eddie’s plea.

Eddie inserted his mouthpiece and resumed his tenuous trek around the mat. 

“A real opponent won’t dance with you like this,” Frank grumbled. “You can weave and dodge for only so long.”

“I’m looking for my opening,” Eddie replied.

“Funny,” Atticus chuckled. The ghostly apparition arose from the gym floor and took his place among the onlookers. “Looks more like you’re eying the exit! I haven’t seen a body so desperate for an out since the British attacked New Orleans!”

“Har-dee-har,” Eddie replied. “I’ve been in a scrap or two with a bigger opponent in my day. I know what I’m doing!”

Rogers scribbled on a notepad and didn’t glance up. “Have you ever fought a Sasquatch, Mr. King?”

Eddie kept his eyes glued on Frank, lest he miss the precious opening he sought. “No, but I’ve been in bar fights with some big dudes in my day. The worst I got was sore knuckles. It’s all about leverage and technique.”

“You don’t get it,” Rogers replied. “But you will.”

“Who has time to worry about their knuckles when their head is on backward, eh Rogers?” Shamus added.

“Don’t count me out before we begin,” Eddie shot back. “I know what I’m doing.”

Like Atticus, Hans arrived late. He tapped Rogers on the shoulder. “How exactly will this trigger the Starseed?”

“It’s my hope…” said Rogers.

“Whatever you hope, it won’t work if he keeps up the Dance Dance Revolution bit,” Frank interrupted. The Sasquatch lunged but came away empty-handed. “For the love of God….”

Frank’s frustration left him open.

Eddie charged at his foe’s tree trunk of a leg. He played football in school and knew how to tackle. He drove his good shoulder into Frank’s thigh with all his might. His arms wrapped around the back of the Sasquatch’s knees, and he pulled them toward his chest. Even with momentum and leverage on his side, the massive limb didn’t budge. Eddie slumped to the floor at Frank’s feet. His shoulder felt like he drove it into a telephone pole. “Damn! That was my good one too!”

A catcher’s mitt of a hand plucked Eddie from the floor and hoisted him into the air. Eddie swung, but Frank’s arms were much too long for his punches to connect. He kicked but, to everyone’s amusement, landed only a few glancing blows. Frank slammed him to the mat and scattered the spectators like rolled dice.

The impact forced every atom of oxygen from Eddie’s lungs. They felt as useful at that moment as gills on dry land. He tried to stand but oozed back to the floor like sludge. Surely after everything EGAD went through to protect him from the Gray and the Reptilians, Rogers wouldn’t allow him to die in a controlled exercise. They needed him, right?

The only upside to his pain was the thought of another visit with Lilith. He was a big fan of Pleiadian Medicine and an even bigger fan of the Pleiadian that administered it.

“Consider that your first lesson in the folly of trying to tackle a nine-hundred-pound Sasquatch,” said Rogers, smug as always. “Studies have demonstrated a direct link between such foolishness and a pronounced detriment to one’s physical health.”

“Noted,” Eddie groaned as his lungs finally inflated. He struggled to his feet and pondered the viability of shoulder transplants. Despite the pain, he launched an unexpected blitzkrieg and shot toward Frank. He landed a perfectly-placed uppercut beneath the Sasquatch’s massive, furry chin. It was like punching steel. His knuckles exploded and sent a torrent of pain racing up his arm. “Son of a….” Eddie clenched his hand. There was no doubt that bones were broken. “Time out! I’m hurt. I need to….”

Frank flicked Eddie beneath the jaw like a kid expelling a rolled-up booger from his finger. Mules wished they could kick as hard. 

“What the hell, dude?” Eddie asked, looking up from the floor. “Do they not have “time outs” in Wookie-land?”

“What did you say?” Frank asked with newly-kindled fire in his eyes.

Rogers rushed to the center of the mat and tried to brush Frank back. “Ease up, Frank.”

Eddie was too groggy to flee. His only hope was for Rogers to calm the Sasquatch.

Frank swatted Rogers away like an insect. “Nobody calls me a Wookie!”

“Come on, Frank,” Rogers pleaded. He raced back to the mat. “He didn’t know! Give the guy a break!”

“Oh, I’m going to break him, alright!” Frank replied. He launched himself into the air like a professional wrestler flying from the top rope.

Eddie always heard one’s life flashed before their eyes in that fleeting moment before death. Oddly enough, the sight of a 900-pound Sasquatch soaring at him made him think instead about his court date for the unpaid credit card bill. He beat the bastards! It was perhaps the dumbest last thought to ever pass through anyone’s mind. Eddie braced himself for the inevitable pancake, but the region of his brain responsible for fight or flight took over and rolled him out of the way.

Frank crashed to the mat with the sound of a thousand basketballs slammed to the floor at once.

“Enough!” Rogers barked.

Frank stood to his feet, angrier than ever.

Rogers jammed a finger beneath the Sasquatch’s wide, flat nose. “What the hell was that?”

“He called me a Wookie!” Frank shouted back.

Rogers pointed at Eddie. “That is a human being! You are a Sasquatch! You remind us every day how “fragile” we are, and you pull that shit? You’re better than this, Frank!”

“My orders were to rough him up a little to see if it would trigger the Starseed,” Frank replied

“What if you landed on him?” Rogers shot back. “You would have flattened him like a bug! We need the Starseed more than ever with an invasion ramping up!”

Frank pointed a dismissive finger at Eddie. “Yeah, we need the Starseed, Rogers! Not that worthless loser!”

Eddie thought better of defending his honor.

“I’m done!” Frank shouted. He walked off toward the dressing rooms. 

Rogers followed on his heels. “Get back here now!”

Frank stopped and turned slowly. “What do you want me to do? Finish him?”

Oxygen rushed into Eddie’s lungs. “Who says I’m done?” He crawled to the center of the mat and stood on wobbly legs. 

“Mr. Eddie, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said Atticus.

Bruce flitted in Eddie’s face. “Yeah, dude. You need to stay down. There’s a fine line between brave and stupid.”

Eddie swatted the Bat-boy away. “Never tell stupid what it can’t do.”

Frank growled and returned to the mat. “If you want more, I’m happy to dish it out!”

Rogers put an arm across the Sasquatch’s barrel chest. “If you can’t train the Starseed with a clear head, then we’re done.”

“Fine,” Frank replied.

Rogers turned the microscope on Eddie. “And you! Are you insane? Unless you’re telling me the Starseed manifested and gifted you with the ability to absorb ungodly punishment, I’d advise against antagonizing him! The Sasquatch are driven by emotion. Bad things happen when that emotion is rage. Do you understand?”

Eddie checked himself and nodded. It wasn’t the Starseed driving him but rather his pride. Frank was another opportunity for Eddie to prove he was no longer that humiliated little boy beneath Viper Sobek’s Converse. But Frank was no playground bully. He wasn’t even human. Bruce was right. Perhaps he was a little stupid.

Or even a lot. 

“Can you continue and not be a dumb-ass?” Rogers asked.

Eddie nodded again. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Bob, can you help Mr. King?” Rogers asked.

The small Gray alien stepped onto the mat and reached for Eddie’s hand. Eddie winced in pain as he examined it. “I can heal it.”

“Really?” Eddie asked. “Will it hurt?”

Bob shook his head. “No.”

Warmth rushed into Eddie’s hand and radiated to his shoulder. A brilliant glow enveloped the right side of his body. The sensation was intense but not unpleasant. It continued for about a minute until Bob released his hand. The glow dissipated immediately. 

“It’s done,” said Bob.

Eddie opened and closed his hand without pain. He rolled his shoulder 360 degrees. “What the hell? They feel better than new.”

“My people can manipulate organic tissue at the molecular level,” Bob explained.

“What about my other shoulder where the Reptilians shot me?” Eddie asked.

Bob shook his head. “Think of the power like a corticosteroid. Your wounds are still present, but the cellular manipulation masks your pain while they heal. It’s sufficient for simple injuries. But serious trauma, such as a wound inflicted by blaster fire, requires more substantial medical care which Lilith administered.”

“Still feels great,” said Eddie.

Rogers patted Eddie on the back. “You good to go again?”

A million smart-ass replies ran through Eddie’s head, but he silenced the muse that got him into so much trouble over the years. “I think so.”

“And you’re ready to listen?” Rogers asked. “We need you, son. Somewhere inside of you is humanity’s only hope. We have to unlock it before those sons of bitches invade the planet!”

“Maybe that’s it,” Hans suggested. “If I may, sir?”

Rogers ceded the floor to the team’s resident semi-retired incubus.

“Perhaps we’re applying too much pressure on Mr. King,” Hans observed. “It’s difficult for any uninitiated human to reconcile our world with their previous ignorance of its existence. But to then thrust the weight of the planet’s survival upon his shoulders? It’s a heavy burden to shoulder.”

“The ol’ bloke may be right,” Shamus added. “He usually is, ye know.”

Rogers smiled at the leprechaun. “He is indeed. I agree with you, Hans, wholeheartedly even. But what other choice do we have?”

“I want to trigger this thing as much as the next person,” said Eddie. “I was freaked out by it before, but things I’ve seen since then… And if it manifests, maybe there’s still time to save….”

The pregnant pause hung in the air for what seemed like forever. Everyone knew Eddie meant Priscilla.

“Do you have any suggestions, Mr. King?” Rogers asked. He was obviously at the end of his rope to turn to Eddie for answers.

Eddie probably knew less about the Starseed than anyone in the room. “I have no idea, but I’m a liability without it.”

“See?” Frank shouted. “Even he knows it!”

Rogers grabbed Eddie’s newly-healed arm. “You sure you’re up for this, Eddie? You don’t have to do it.”

It was the first time Eddie remembered Rogers calling him by name. “I’m okay, thanks to Bob.”

“Welcome,” Bob replied.

“Then let’s try again, shall we?” Rogers asked. “And Frank, try not to kill him this time.”

Eddie overlooked the comment about his demise. He moved to the center of the mat while Frank grabbed a bottle of water. The Sasquatch unscrewed the lid but squeezed too hard and squirted himself in the face. Water ran off his chin and onto his chest. A second attempt yielded similar results. Finally, he bit off the top and spat the plastic onto the basketball court. He poured the water into his open maw. Whether the Sasquatch intended to intimidate Eddie or not, it worked like a charm. Frank stepped onto the mat, and the sparring session resumed.                              Eddie circled Frank again.

“Maybe we should sign him up for next season’s “Dancing with The Stars,” said Bruce as he fluttered about overhead.

Eddie sighed. “I’m not dancing! I’m just….”

The room exploded in unison. “We know! We know! You’re looking for your opening!”

“Well, then get on with it already, lad!” said Shamus. “We ‘aven’t got all bloody day!”

Eddie tried a different tactic than before. Rather than a meticulous search for an opening, he rushed Frank and acted as if he wished to lock up. At the last moment, he pulled up short and stomped the Sasquatch’s left big toe.              

The howl that burst forth from Frank’s throat filled the gym like a bullhorn. The Sasquatch yanked his injured foot into his hand and nursed it as he hopped in a small circle on the other. The obscenities he uttered were so vile even Eddie blushed. And he thought he heard them all.               

“Now tell me I don’t know what I’m doing,” Eddie bragged. He turned to the spectators. “Didn’t see that coming. Did you?”

Everyone backed away from the mat.

Frank’s hot breath steamed Eddie’s neck. He turned slowly and gulped. The Sasquatch towered over him with flared nostrils and wild eyes consumed with rage.

“Oh crap!” said Eddie. He ran, but Frank was surprisingly nimble for such a large creature, especially one with a hurt toe. He chased Eddie around the gymnasium.

Hans pushed Rogers into the fray. “Do something before he kills him this time for real!”

Rogers waved his hands in the Sasquatch’s face. “Frank! Come in, big guy! Earth to Frank! He didn’t mean it!”

Frank dodged Rogers and continued the chase around the gym.

“I didn’t mean it!” Eddie shrieked as he skirted the Sasquatch’s fury. “Didn’t you hear the man? I didn’t mean it!”

Frank was undeterred. He trapped Eddie along the back wall behind the backboard. The Sasquatch snatched him up and shook him violently.

Eddie thought perhaps he would perish from Shaken-baby syndrome.

“Calm down, Frank!” said Rogers. “It’s a toe! Look at what you did to him! He didn’t act like this when he was hurt!”

The shaking stopped.

“But he stomped my foot!” Frank complained.

“Exactly!” Rogers reasoned. “He exploited a weakness.”

“I’m a Sasquatch!” Frank shot back. “I have no weaknesses!”

Eddie thought better about adding his two cents about Frank’s toe. 

Frank grabbed Eddie by the throat and held him aloft.

“Think carefully, Frank,” Rogers warned. “You don’t want Charlie taking your spot on the team, do you?”

Eddie wasn’t sure who Charlie was, but the mention of his name gave Frank pause. He relaxed his grip and slung Eddie toward the padded wall behind the goal.

< “What if I die before Eddie knows how I feel?” >

It was Priscilla’s voice, but Eddie heard it in his head. He braced for impact, but time yawned to a standstill and slammed the brakes on his impromptu flight toward the wall.

The cool gusts driven from the air-conditioning vents became playthings for his enjoyment. He tumbled on the light breeze like a gymnast and marveled at the wonder of it all with great curiosity.

A warming sensation tickled his toes and raced up his body.

Frenzied photons danced around a bonfire on the fingertips of his left hand. They whooped and hollered, their chants bellowing into the night. The photons in his right hand were far more dignified. Of course, they set the standard for what constituted acceptable civilization, and they felt justified in branding their left-hand brethren savages. The snobby right-hand photons bowed to one another and waltzed around the grand hall in Eddie’s palm. They wore Victorian-era costumes and white powdered wigs. Renaissance frescoes adorned the palace’s elaborate ceiling. Marble statues bowed on their pedestals when the dancers neared.

The scent of fresh-baked Parisian baguettes drew him to Paris. A young woman in a plaid pencil skirt and red sweater waited for her breakfast at a small, wrought-iron table outside a cafe. It was December 1965, and the latest Beatles tune, “Michelle,” played on the radio in a shiny, new Renault Dauphine as it passed. She was happy the boys from Liverpool released a song with French lyrics.

The young woman read a dog-eared copy of Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s “Le Petit Prince” while she waited. In light of her upcoming nuptials, she questioned if she was ready for adulthood. Convinced the answer lay buried somewhere in the beloved children’s book, she consumed its childhood wisdom intently.

Eddie knew all this because he was the letter “X” at the end of the famous quote, “Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.”. He grew bored propping up that one word for so long. Yes, adults saw hats and not boa constrictors digesting elephants, but “X” knew the passage by heart. Eddie ventured through the text and fell into a heated debate with the businessman about the folly of owning the stars.

Eddie flew high on eagle’s wings and surveyed the mountains far below. He glided into a dark, gray cloud and soaked up the condensation on his face. White, puffy clouds chased away the gray interloper and took the shape of a procession of trumpets. They heralded his manifestation with great jubilation.

All knowledge settled on the front of Eddie’s brain at once. It wasn’t just the awareness of the events that transpired around him. He knew everything about everything.

Ever!

The mechanics of the Big Bang were mundane as simple addition.

The diversity of life in the universe humbled even his near-omniscience. Planets teemed with it, even on the chunks of rock in Earth’s own solar system that its scientists deemed barren. Their definition of life was so short-sighted.

Colors unknown to the human eye swirled and danced in celebration of finally being appreciated.

The deluge of knowledge overwhelmed his cerebrum and triggered new synapses to contain the torrent. He knew every detail about everyone who ever lived. Facts of insurmountable importance and those of trivial oddity were his for the perusing.

Eddie enjoyed a conversation with a microbe near an underwater vent on an ocean world thirty thousand light-years from Earth. Her name translated to Mildred, and she was a real looker back in the day. He celebrated a brave sarcopterygian that limped from the water on its lobe fins and set in motion its world’s evolution from water to land.

Space and time and dimensions unimaginable to human comprehension were as clear to him as if he picked up an atlas at a gas station. Why were there no restrooms on Venus? Eddie knew! Eddie knew everything!

The euphoria was swallowed whole by crushing pain and sorrow. They were as unbearable as the flood of knowledge was glorious.

Eddie recognized this part of his destiny as a winnowing process. He surrendered to his cosmic education and met it head-on. He was the orphaned Yrgian child whose parents died exploring the forest of a long-dead world. The child’s heartbreak was as palpable as Eddie’s own when he lost his grandmother. No, that pain wasn’t his, and neither was the grandmother.

The sorrow belonged to a beast on a planet orbiting a red dwarf star near Orion. The flightless creature resembled a kangaroo with stubby wings protruding from its back. The poor girl bleated her heartbreak to the stars above. A two-headed behemoth the size of an elephant but with a feline body ate her grandmother. The young creature was ashamed she ran when their herd was attacked, but her grandmother urged her to do so and not to look back.

Eddie felt the pain of the grandmother’s sacrifice too. She was at peace with death, but the feline creature’s teeth and claws caused great agony as they tore through her aged, callous hide and sunk into the tender flesh beneath. The cavalcade of loss and pain continued unabated as Eddie careened through the universe like an out-of-control pinball.

And then he felt her at the very center of the universe.

The very center of his universe.

Priscilla.

She was on a table in an underground base in New Mexico. Three Gray hovered over her with large, listless eyes. One checked the Malicium bonds that bound her feet and said something about her not escaping again. Tendrils of lightning surged from his hands, inches from her face. She was terrified but too proud to let them see. The miseries of her captivity overwhelmed him. How could one human being endure such torment? Her strength astonished him.

The Gray offered her one final chance to reveal the location of the EGAD base, but Priscilla refused. The alien unleashed a hellish barrage of electricity that raced all over her body.

Priscilla screamed. “Eddie!”

Gathering warmth radiated from the center of Eddie’s chest. Bright, white light seeped from every pore on his body. He feared he would blind the mortal beings suspended in the amber of his transformation. He spun like a top before the power rushed out of him and exploded like a hundred bombs. Or a thousand. Or a million. It didn’t matter. 

The shockwave rippled through the gym. The ripples hurled Frank’s massive form through the glass backboard of the basketball goal on the other end of the court. Oddly enough, its name was Frank too!

Even the intangible Atticus didn’t escape the onslaught. The eruption flung the phantom through the wall and deposited him in the hallway outside.

And then, as if nothing unusual happened, Eddie floated gently to the floor and surveyed the damage. Rogers’ nose bled from falling into Hans, and something hit Bruce in the forehead and opened a nasty gash. No, it was more than just something. Eddie knew exactly what hit him. It was the fountain pen Rogers held earlier. It flew out of his hand and struck Bruce above the right eye.

The cut wasn’t serious, but Eddie also knew the pen was a 1998 Cross Townsend in Cardinal Red Lacquer and manufactured by the A.T. Cross Company in Providence, Rhode Island, before their production moved to China. It was a gift from the previous EGAD Director when he retired. His name was Emmett Fields. Eddie knew everything about him too.

Frank took the worst of the attack, but his bulk spared him extensive damage. He sat up and rubbed his forehead. “Well, hello, Starseed! My work here is done!”

Of course, he took credit. But did a wry smile stretch across the Sasquatch’s face?

“Is everyone okay?” Rogers asked. He tried to stand, but his wobbly legs were less than trustworthy. He gave up and sat on the floor.

Eddie wasn’t sure if he should answer or not but couldn’t help himself. “Frank suffered a tarsal navicular stress fracture on his right foot and a hairline fracture of the cuneiform bone. Bruce sustained a grade one concussion when your pen struck him on the suborbital process on the frontal plate of his skull. He’s experiencing mild nausea but will be fine in eighteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds based upon physical clues.”

Rogers grinned like a fox in a hen house. “So, Frank roughing you up did the trick, huh?”

Eddie shook his head. “No sir, it was Priscilla. I know where she is and how to rescue her.”

“Oh? Then where is she, Mr. King?” Rogers asked. He hobbled to one knee.

Eddie surveyed the expectant faces. “Dulce.”

Chapter Twenty-One

R ogers wobbled to his feet like one leg was longer than the other. “What did you say, Mr. King?”

Eddie scanned the wrecked gymnasium in horror. “The gym…I’m so sorry!”

Rogers waved off the apology. “Never mind that. It can be repaired. What did you say about Priscilla?”

“She’s in big trouble, sir. She’s at Dulce,” Eddie replied.

The crow’s feet at the corner of Rogers’ icy blue eyes crinkled into deep crevasses.

Eddie thought maybe he said something wrong. “Dulce, it’s in New Mex….”

“I know where it is, Mr. King,” Rogers replied. “But how in the hell do you know that name?”

Everyone but Frank gathered their wits and crowded around. The Sasquatch remained on the floor at the other end of the gym.

Eddie dragged the toe of his left shoe across the wrestling mat as if the nervous habit would somehow help him escape scrutiny. How do you tell people you’re omniscient? Whether by his own wisdom or that of the Starseed, he thought it best to rip the bandage off quickly if he wanted to save Priscilla. “Omniscience, sir.”

Eyebrows crested from one worried glance to another. The wave crashed to a trough when it reached Bruce, but only because he had no eyebrows to raise.

“Omniscience, Mr. King? As in, you know everything?” Rogers asked.

“That’s not a thing. Is it?” Frank yelled across the gym.

If he hadn’t experienced it himself, Eddie would have agreed wholeheartedly with the Sasquatch’s candid assertion. “Well, I don’t know the future.”

“But everything else…” Rogers asked.

Eddie nodded.  “Everything, sir. All of time and space. It’s a lot to handle.”

“And you say Priscilla’s at Dulce?” Rogers asked. “You’re absolutely sure?”

Eddie rubbed his aching head. “One-hundred percent, you’ll find the base located beneath the Archuleta Mesa.”

For a change, the grin that crossed Rogers’ face was one of amusement, not arrogance. “I’m familiar with the base’s location, Mr. King. But if you’re omniscient, shouldn’t you know that already?”

The man had a point. Perhaps omniscience wasn’t the right word, but the English language lacked an apt description for the power that permeated Eddie’s being. Perhaps his inability to provide an accurate description of his newfound power was proof he wasn’t truly omniscient at all. “Touché!”

“Dulce, though?” Atticus whistled. “Oh man, that can’t be good for Ms. Priscilla. That place is the worst!”

“I thought we were walking on eggshells around Eddie-boy about Priscilla?” Bruce asked.

“Didn’t you hear the man, lad?” Shamus asked. “What’s the bloody point if he knows everything anyway?”

A cascade of musical notes descended a sing-song scale and alerted Rogers that his watch died. He inspected the grayed-out display and tapped it as if it would somehow breathe life into the timepiece. “This is most unfortunate. I’ve had this thing for years. It was a promotion gift from Director Fields when he retired.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asked. “I tell you Priscilla is in danger, and you’re concerned about your watch?”

Rogers removed the timepiece from his wrist and held it to his ear. “Special watch.”

“What about Priscilla?” Eddie asked. “Don’t you care about her?”

Rogers shrugged. “You’re omniscient. You tell me.”

Eddie recognized the challenge as a test. He closed his eyes and saw Priscilla as a young girl at Walt Disney World. She was in line for Space Mountain and held a man’s hand. The line inched along, but the entertaining displays piqued her interest in outer space and kept her occupied. They proved a little too interesting. She dropped her cotton candy when the line finally moved.  A quick tug on the man’s hand got his attention. “Uncle Colton, I dropped it! I dropped my cotton candy! We’ve got to go back and get it.”

The man looked down at her and smiled. The face was much younger, but there was no mistaking the smug, roguish grin. “It’s okay, Prissy. We’ll get you another one.”

Priscilla threw her arms around Rogers’ waist. “Thanks, Uncle Colton! You’re the best!”

Eddie opened his eyes. “You’re Priscilla’s uncle?”

Rogers smiled. “I brought her into the organization when I saw her going the wrong way.”

It was Eddie’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Prissy?”

“Don’t ever call her that,” Rogers warned. “You’d fare better attending Frank’s family reunion in a Chewbacca t-shirt.”

Frank looked up from where he sat. “He’s not lying.”

“Noted,” Eddie replied.

Rogers unlatched his watch and swung it like a pendulum. “I take it this rescue plan you mentioned earlier involves a social call on Dulce? If so, I need my equipment in working order. It seems an unforeseen side-effect of your manifestation was a powerful electromagnetic pulse.”

Eddie hated that he destroyed the watch. He closed his eyes and explored the timepiece’s inner workings. Rogers was right. The electromagnetic pulse was indeed responsible. Wayward energy still danced on the delicate processor that regulated its digital heartbeat, disrupting its ability to function. Eddie concentrated and drew the pulse from his trigger event back into himself.  “Now try it.”

Rogers pressed a button, and the watch powered to life. He seemed pleased. “Takes a licking and needs only a reset of the reality button to keep on ticking.” He wrapped it around his wrist and fastened the latch into place. “So let’s hear this plan.”

“First, I must tend to Frank,” Eddie replied. “He’s hurt more than he cares to admit.”

“Omniscience my ass, I’m fine!” Frank grumbled. The cantankerous Sasquatch nursed his injured foot. 

Eddie crossed the gym to where Frank sat with the basketball goal still wrapped around his rear-end. He bent down and passed his hand over the Sasquatch’s gigantic extremity. Warm, healing energy flowed into the fracture. The muscular system heeded Eddie’s command almost immediately, but the skeletal system was slower to respond to his prodding. But respond, it did.

Eddie willed the bones into place like a sculptor working clay. They joined together at the point of impact as if no injury occurred. The fracture above Frank’s eye socket was more stubborn than his foot due to the thick cranial plates that protected his brain, but it too finally succumbed to the mending.

Frank hopped to his feet and raised his left leg off the ground, leaving his full nine-hundred-pound heft on the injured foot.

“Careful big guy,” Rogers warned. “That’s still fresh. Bob has done that for us many times. As he told Mr. King moments ago, it’s like a steroid shot. It masks the pain, but...”

Eddie shook his head. “No, it’s truly healed, better than before even. It last felt this good forty-six years, eight months, and thirteen days ago. He stepped in a hunter’s trap that day.”

Frank’s face twisted into a bewildered smile. He bent over and touched his toes. His hands walked out in front of him, which thrust his ample backside into the air. “He’s right!  It’s as good as new! I can do my yoga without pain! Check out my Adho Mukha Svanasana, or what you English-only speakers call the Downward-Facing Dog.”

Bruce wrinkled his face. “Dude, nobody wants to see your big, hairy ass!”

Bob looked away from the spectacle but was still intrigued. “You do yoga?”

“Want to make something of it?” Frank growled. “The point is, there’s no way my foot could endure the stretch if it weren’t good as new.”

“You’re actually better than new,” Eddie added. “Now, can we get to my plan?”

Rogers shrugged. “We’re all ears, Mr. King.”

Frank tucked the demolished basketball goal underneath his arm and rejoined the team. He leaned in to hear.

Everyone stared at the Sasquatch.

“Is that necessary?” Rogers asked, pointing to the busted goal.

Frank smiled. “A trophy for the Starseed.”

Rogers shot him a look, and Frank tossed the goal aside. It landed near the door.

Eddie searched the hopeful eyes staring back at him and realized someone was missing. He waved for Luther to join them. “Luther, you too! Your abilities are key to the plan’s success.”

Heads swiveled and searched the damaged gymnasium. Eyes strained to glimpse the elusive shadow-that-was-almost-there-but-never-quite-was and exchanged dumbfounded glances. 

“Luther is here?” Hans asked.

“He’s been here the entire time, but I didn’t see him until the Starseed triggered,” Eddie explained.

“You physically see him?” Rogers asked in flabbergasted disbelief. “You can see Luther?”

“Sure,” Eddie replied. “He’s right there.” He enjoyed having the upper hand on Rogers for a change.  Catching more than a fleeting glance of the team’s resident wraith was difficult for even the non-human eyes on the team. “Can’t you?”

A bewildered Luther gawked at Eddie himself. “You can see me?”

Eddie nodded. “And I can hear you too.”

“This is seriously freaky,” Bruce added. “Is he… talking to Luther? I wasn’t even sure he was real.”

Shamus threw his right arm over Bruce’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen him me-self, but it could be argued most people would have a hard time believing in any of us, my friend.”

Bruce shrugged. “You’re right, but still….”

“Okay, so he can see Luther,” said Rogers. “In our line of work, we’ve seen far stranger things. Your plan, Mr. King?”

For the first time in his life, a group waited with bated breath to hear Eddie speak. Sure, some hardcore Elvis fans hung on his every word during performances. But it was the illusion that enchanted them with its captive spell. They didn’t care what “Eddie” had to say.

“Luther is the key,” Eddie explained. “It isn’t super-speed that makes him appear to move so quickly but the ability to create and navigate inter-dimensional wormholes at will. He doesn’t physically travel in our plane of existence at all.”

Luther rolled his eyes. “There goes my party trick.”

“We’re going to use Luther’s ability to shift us to Dulce,” said Eddie.

Luther shook his head. “I have to see my end destination first, or I could shift everyone into the middle of the ocean or inside a rock. We could end up anywhere. It’s like pissing into a hurricane and trying to stay dry. It’s impossible.”

“That’s where I come in,” said Eddie. “I know exactly where Priscilla is. I can be your seeing-eye dog.”

Luther looked thoughtful. “I’ve never attempted to move someone from this dimension through my own before. If I lose contact with them, they’ll be lost forever.”

“Are you having a conversation with Luther?” Rogers asked.

Eddie nodded.

Rogers looked impressed. “I just talk and hope he gets it.”

“Explains a lot,” said Luther.

Eddie placed his arm across the wraith’s shoulder. “You can do this. We can do this.”

Luther threw his hands in the air. “I’ll give it a try.”

“What about the rest of us?” Frank asked. “I don’t like going in blind.”

“We have the element of surprise on our side,” Rogers replied. “That’s no small thing. If you prefer not to take part, I’ll understand. That goes for any of you.”

Frank’s eyes glowed like an oven. “I never back down from a fight!”

Eddie looked around the room. “Everyone’s in?”

Frank nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Rogers tapped his watch and spoke. “This is Director Rogers. I need Lexi, Hilda, and Lilith to the gym now. We’re going on a field trip.”

His words echoed through the facility like a high school principal making announcements. Hilda entered the gym first, followed by Lilith, and finally Lexi.

Lexi stepped over the busted-up backboard and looked around the gym. “What the hell happened in here?”

“Boys and their toys,” Rogers replied. “Not important now.”

“You wanted to see us, Director?” Lilith asked.

Rogers nodded. “We’re going to rescue Priscilla.”

Hilda’s face lit up. “You found her?”

Rogers smiled. “Actually… the Starseed did.”

Hilda clasped her hands together and beamed like a proud Grandma. “Oh, I just knew you would find your little friend, Mr. King!”

“Thanks,” Eddie blushed.

Lilith said nothing, but Eddie spotted the faintest trace of a smile in the corners of her mouth. She was hard to read even with omniscience on his side.

On the other hand, Lexi seemed about as impressed as if he misidentified another card in their earlier experiment with extra-sensory perception. “Can we make this quick? I promised Leopold I’d call him back.”

Rogers huffed. “Your imaginary boyfriend isn’t as important as an agent’s life, young lady!”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Leopold is not imaginary! He’s my soulmate!”

“What is our destination, sir?” Lilith asked, directing the conversation back to the task at hand.

Rogers sighed. “You’re not going to like it… Dulce.”

The ladies exchanged uncomfortable glances. Even Lexi’s eyes grew wide. Rogers finally had her attention.

“As I told the gentlemen, due to the personal nature of this mission, this is not an order,” Rogers explained. “I will think no less of anyone should they decide to….”

“Out of the question, sir. We’re going,” Hilda replied sharply. “Ms. Priscilla puts her life on the line for others every day. We can do no less for her.”

Rogers looked to Lexi and Lilith. “You two in as well?”

“Without reservation, Director,” Lilith replied.

Lexi rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Fine, why not?”

“So, how do we get there?” Hilda asked. “We can’t exactly knock on the front door.”

Eddie explained Luther’s abilities and his own role in the transport.

Hans raised a hand to speak. No one called on him, but the room hushed out of quiet respect. “Not to be a dastardly chap, but we can’t transport there one by one. We’ll lose the element of surprise.”

“That is a problem,” said Luther. “I could take small a group if we hold onto one another. But that would leave the first group exposed to danger for several minutes, maybe longer if I can’t make a second jump right away.”

“What’s he saying?” Rogers asked.

“Luther needs to maintain physical contact during the transport,” Eddie explained. “Or we could become lost forever.”

Lexi leaned over to Bob and whispered, “Is he carrying on a conversation with Dark and Spooky?”

Bob nodded.

Lexi popped her gum. “Shit! I’ve seen everything now!”

Rogers snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Why not get Shamus to do it?”

Shamus looked surprised. “Me? I don’t follow, mate.”

“Your magic could….”

Shamus shook his head. “Even me magic has limitations, old boy. I draw me powers from the Earth. I doubt they’d work in this other dimension.”

Atticus sighed. “Too bad we couldn’t just take the bus.”

“The bus?” Bob asked. “The bus! Yes, that’s it! I can create a telekinetic platform for us all. Luther could transport it, and we’d be along for the ride. Would that suffice?”

Eddie turned to Luther. He nodded his affirmation.

Eddie shot an imaginary basketball at the nearby rim that still hung to the support that once held the backboard in place. A real basketball materialized halfway through the imaginary shot’s arc and swished through the net. “Bob shoots, and he scores!”

“Whoa!” said Lexi.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “I had no idea I could do that.”

Bob extended his right hand. “Quiet! I need to concentrate.” 

The atoms beneath Eddie’s boots coalesced into a membrane-thin sheet that emerged from the floor. Air molecules merged and gathered substance. Eddie was keenly aware of the sensation, though everyone else seemed ignorant of the miracle taking place beneath their feet. It wasn’t until Lexi mentioned it that the others were aware they stood on what felt like a cushion of solid air.

“Please everyone, remain as still as possible,” Bob warned. “And Eddie, whatever you have in mind, you must do it now. The strain of so many people is incredible!”

“What about the plan?” Hans asked. “I’m all for a good scrap, but….”

Eddie nodded. “I’ll fill you in on the way.”

“Well then, I suppose we’re committed now,” Hans replied.

Rogers smiled at the elderly Incubus. “You were committed before there was a plan.”

Hans nodded. “So I was. It’s been too long since I’ve fried some alien ass!”

“Take us out of here, Luther!” said Eddie.

Chapter Twenty-Two

C olors swirled like stained glass as the gym shimmered from view. All went dark, and Eddie fell for what seemed like an eternity. His vision returned in time to witness the full moon peeking from behind a dark cloud.

A moment later, he dropped through a canopy of trees covered in Spanish moss and plunged into the dirty, black waters of a woodland swamp. A desperate hand clawed for a nearby cypress knee, but it was too slimy to hold. He slipped and sliced his palm on the tree bark. Sprinkles of duckweed parted as he submerged beneath the murky grime.

Eddie’s back settled into the soft, greedy muck at the bottom of the shallow and the thick mud eagerly devoured its thrashing prize. He fought the heavy sludge but recognized the rapacious sediment for what it was, a lifetime of personal failure. There was no escaping his past. The ooze sucked him deeper into its hungry quagmire. The sulfuric stench of defeat choked his lungs.                                          

Awful as it was, the Stygian darkness dissipated when Luther pierced the veil between dimensions.  Eddie wasn’t in a swamp at all but rather a maelstrom in another reality. Did the others suffer a similar illusion when they crossed the threshold, or was he the only one?

Their motley crew was on their way to Dulce, New Mexico, to rescue Priscilla. A tempest raged in the boiling, otherworldly soup between the dimensions.  Angry tendrils of lightning flashed across crimson skies. The discharge was far fiercer than any witnessed in the course of human history. 

Remnants of a long-dead galaxy ripped to shreds by the storm’s irascible fury littered the volatile void. Everything from tiny grains of space dust to debris the size of small moons hurled at them too quickly for the eye to follow. Their only bulwark against the simmering insanity was Bob’s telekinetic platform that allowed Luther to transport them as a group.

“Where the hell are we?” Frank whispered. The quiver in the big guy’s voice was unsettling.

Everyone understood his question was largely rhetorical because it mirrored their own concerns.

“I’ve erected a shield around us,” said Eddie.

“Oh good,” said Bruce. “We can die with our eyes open now!”

Lexi held her stomach and groaned. “I can’t take much more of this.”

Whether human or vampire, she was right. The ride was no picnic. The storm tossed them about like confetti on the wind.

“Try to focus on a large object in the distance,” Eddie instructed. “It’s less disorienting than if you try to take it all in at once.”

“Disorienting or maddening?” Rogers shouted over the cosmic winds.

“Choose your poison,” Eddie replied.  His mark was set before they entered the maelstrom. It was an examination table in the Gray base beneath the Archuleta Mesa in Dulce, New Mexico.

The void shifted like a kaleidoscope. Raw matter tumbled over colorful gaseous nebulae in clothes-dryer fashion, and the cycle began anew. Bursts of brilliant honey-gold displaced the crimson skies. Soon the crimson gave way to a searing orange expanse that was like being one with the sunrise.

“Are you guiding Luther through this, Mr. King?” Rogers asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Nope, this is all him.”

“Inform Rogers that this is what I encounter each time I move between our dimensions,” said Luther.

Eddie relayed Luther’s message.

“Son of a bitch,” Rogers replied. “I had no idea.”

“To me, it’s as if everything else is sitting still, and I’m the only matter in motion. What looks like chaos to you is as ordered to me as a sock drawer in your dresser,” Luther explained. 

The analogy was lost on Eddie. “You haven’t seen my sock drawer.”

Luther shrugged. “It’s a familiar path. Our team is in no danger.”

“So you don’t view all these near-misses as….”

Luther looked over his shoulder and smiled. “What near-misses?”

“We’re going to be okay,” Eddie assured everyone. “Luther has it under control.”

Lexi’s face was green even through her white makeup. “Aces for him, but I think I’m going to hurl!”

“Don’t you dare,” said Rogers. “This platform is too intimate a space for that.”

Lilith put an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. “Never mind him. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth.”

Lexi rested her hands on her knees while Lilith stroked her back. She lurched forward and vomited all over Rogers’ polished, black loafers.

The Director’s face twisted in horror. “For the love of God, why my shoes, Lexi?”

Lexi gasped some deep breaths and spat the last of her vomit onto the platform. “That’s for being a pompous, arrogant prick all the time.”

Frank’s hearty guffaw echoed through the expanse. “I was going to give her hell about never seeing a vampire puke, but this is even better! She got you good!”

Rogers lifted his feet, but there was nowhere else to put them. His expensive Italian shoes remained in the vomit. 

Eddie thought it best to diffuse the situation before Rogers tested the teenager’s claims of immortality. “I told you to focus on one thing.”

“Yeah, about that,” Lexi replied. “Listening isn’t my strong suit.”

“Amen to that,” Rogers seconded.  “I’m taking this out of your pay.”

Lexi swiped the puke from her lips and straightened her back. “Worth every penny.”

Eddie lost Dulce in the commotion.

“The path is gone,” said Luther.

Eddie turned his attention back to New Mexico. “It’s my fault. I got distracted. Give me a moment.”

Rogers shot Lexi a nasty look. “You’re being a distraction.”

The maelstrom parted, and Eddie spotted Priscilla again.  < “Bob, can you take over and relay the location to Luther telepathically?” >

< “Sorry, Eddie. It takes everything I have to maintain this platform,” > Bob replied. < “Even this conversation taxes me.” >

< “Perhaps, I can be of service then,” > said Lilith < “Bob is not the only telepath on the team.” >

Eddie made the image of Dulce as clear in his mind as possible. < “Okay, Lilith. Do you see the target?” >

< “I’m relaying it to Luther as we speak,” > Lilith replied. < “Do you see it, Luther?” >

Luther nodded, but the pain on his face made it clear he wasn’t a fan of telepathic communication.

The storm churned up a palette of blues and violets. Midnight purples dissolved into a frenzied eddy of navy and royal tones. The masterpiece was reminiscent of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night.”

The unstable canvas was madness and beauty at once. The colors undulated and rolled, swelled and heaved, and rushed back to a shore that never was. Waves exploded like thunder, or perhaps they were thunder, or maybe they were one and the same. It was impossible to tell. Whitecaps danced on the stirring tide, tiptoeing from crest to crest with the grace of a ballerina until they succumbed to a dizzy vortex. Amid the raging cyclone, he saw her. 

Priscilla.

A Gray flickered into view and bathed her in electricity. Her agony tore at Eddie’s soul. She couldn’t endure much more suffering.

A second Gray slid into the picture and held aloft a bony, three-fingered hand. The bombardment ceased. “You are strong, Agent Day! A pity you must die. You would make excellent breeding stock.”

Eddie waited for Priscilla’s smart-ass reply, but the bravado died in her throat. Her storied truculence was tamed. Rather than bellicose defiance, only labored, staccato breaths exploded from her trembling lips. Her fighting spirit was broken. Eddie’s own heart nearly stopped when her heavy eyelids narrowed and shut. He urged them to show a sign of life. Long moments passed before they opened, and she spat at the Gray closest to her. Truth be told, she was so weak that more spittle landed on her own face than on the alien, but her point was clear.

“Is that all you’ve got, butcher?” Priscilla taunted.

The furious Gray ordered more punishment. Hellish sparks shot from his colleague’s fingers and bowed Priscilla’s back. Even her teeth glowed blue. 

Eddie dared not look away lest he lose sight of Priscilla and abandon her to a fate far worse than death. Maintaining the shields and focusing on the target destination amid the otherworldly madness took its toll.

Rogers laid a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

Eddie shook his head. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be okay again.”

“Difficult to watch?” Rogers asked.

Eddie straightened himself. “I don’t know how she bears so much. She’s the toughest person I’ve ever known.”

Rogers patted Eddie’s shoulder. “You should spar with her sometime. When will we arrive?”

“Twenty-two seconds,” Eddie replied. 

“Then you’d better share the plan with us,” said Rogers.

Eddie kept his eyes glued on Priscilla as he spoke to the team. “Priscilla is bound to an examination table in the center of a small room. Two Gray are torturing her in retaliation for an earlier escape attempt. A couple of Reptilian lackeys guard the door outside. I’ll...”

Another deadly arc leaped from the alien’s sinewy hands and scattered the ionized particles over Priscilla’s body. She writhed like a tangled-up marionette.

Eddie watched her for signs of life. 

“Stay with us, King!” Frank shouted. The Sasquatch’s booming voice jolted Eddie back to explaining his plan. 

“When we arrive, the sick bastard ordering the abuse is mine,” Eddie said.

No one argued. 

“I’ll take the other one,” said Frank. “It’s been a while since I’ve ripped an arm off a Gray.”

Eddie shook his head. “No, Frank. Your job is to clear a path for Lexi and Shamus. They’ll free Priscilla.”

“But if I encounter a short, Gray being while clearing the path, it’s acceptable if I sever a limb or two?” Frank asked.

Eddie shrugged. “Sure, have fun. Go nuts, pal.”

Frank smiled. “I can work with that.”

“The Amsels will take the door,” Eddie continued. “The Gray will undoubtedly sound the alarm when we appear. Fricassee anyone who enters the room.”

“We can do that,” said Hilda. “We weren’t nicknamed the Flamethrowers of Hell for nothing.”

Eddie continued. “Shamus and Lexi, as I said, you’ll free Priscilla from her bonds. Lexi will take her feet and Shamus her hands.”

Lexi dry heaved. “Why do I have to get her feet? I hate feet!”

“Because you’re the only one of us capable of cracking the code and freeing her,” Eddie explained.

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Fine! I’ll deal with it, but I can’t promise I won’t hurl again!”

“And I take it her hands are similarly restrained as well?” Shamus asked.

Eddie nodded. “Malicium but no digital locks.”

“Child’s play,” Shamus replied.

Eddie acknowledged his reply with a nod. “The rest of you, float wherever you’re needed.”

“Are you sure you can handle the Gray in charge?” Rogers asked.

Eddie nodded. “I can but change of plans. I need Bruce to take him.”

Bruce folded his wings behind him. “I wondered if you would at least toss me a breadcrumb.”

“Priscilla needs medical attention right away. The Starseed is her best chance to recover,” Eddie replied. He wanted to hurt the alien responsible for her pain, but her health was more important than his petty rage. 

“And what of me, Mr. Eddie?” Atticus asked. “Luther and I will float as you said?”

Eddie nodded. “Things don’t always work out as planned. I need the two of you to assess the situation on the ground and decide where you’re needed most. I trust your judgment.”

“Yes, sir,” Atticus replied.

“That leaves Lilith and Bob to do a seek and destroy on Dulce’s computer systems while everyone else does their thing,” Rogers added. “I’ll float as well. We are there to rescue Agent Day as quickly as possible, a simple in and out operation. Is everyone clear on their orders? No heroics, and under no circumstances does anyone leave the room! Got it?”

The team nodded in unison and waited for Luther to arrive in Dulce. They were the longest seconds of Eddie’s life. And what a life it was shaping up to be! He stood between dimensions alongside a cadre of Earth’s cryptozoological wonders, ready to invade an alien stronghold in the New Mexico desert. It was a long way from a rundown dinner theater in Pigeon Forge.

The image in the examination room tightened into ever-clearer focus as the rescue party drew near. They finally arrived.

“Okay, everybody, now!” Eddie ordered.

Luther deposited the team in the examination room. Their sudden attack caught the unsuspecting Gray by surprise.

Frank was all too happy to find a Gray blocking his path to the table. He wrapped his left hand around the creature’s long, fragile-looking neck. The Gray panicked but wasn’t without means to defend himself. Electrical energy zapped the Sasquatch and forced him to release his smaller foe. The Gray unleashed a second torrent of electricity. It surged through Frank’s body, but he continued toward the alien creature. 

The second Gray sounded the alarm. The grating racket wailed like a cross between a dying goose and a car horn.

The door whooshed into an empty recess overhead. Reptilian guards rushed into the room. The Amsels met them with hellfire. The guards thrashed in agony as their scaly, armored hides melted from their bones and turned to ash. The Amsels took position by the door.

They didn’t wait long.

The six Reptilians who rushed into the room were eager to quash the EGAD invasion force, but they too fell prey to the Amsels’ fiery attack. They devolved from menacing nightmares to powdery ash in seconds. 

Shamus and Lexi rushed to Priscilla’s aid.

“I knew the cavalry would arrive,” Priscilla croaked. “Rogers always finds a way.”

Lexi put aside her loathing of feet and went to work on the console controls. 

“Looks like y’er in quite a jam, Miss!” said Shamus as he hopped onto the table near Priscilla’s head.

“And you get to play Dudley Do-Right?” asked Priscilla.

Shamus shook his head. “Oh, heavens no! It is the luck of the Irish that will free ye today, miss.”

The leprechaun snapped his fingers, and the metal restraints that bound Priscilla’s wrists converted to water and puddled on the floor. “Easy as earth to water!” Shamus explained.

Lilith and Bob penetrated Dulce’s digital infrastructure. Memory sticks were inserted into ports and gathered intelligence. As soon as one drive filled, it was yanked from a port and replaced by another. Lilith copied the information, and Bob went behind her and destroyed the original files.  Their telepathic chatter surprised Eddie.

< “I find no evidence of an impending invasion,” > Lilith said to Bob.  

Bob nodded. < “I concur, but there is a tremendous amount of data on genetic engineering. Could our agents in the field be wrong?” >

“Keep searching!” Eddie shouted.

The pair shot him a bewildered look. The presence of a terrestrial being privileged to their telepathic pipeline spooked them. < “Sorry, but you may as well be shouting!” > said Eddie.

They went back to their work, and Eddie surveyed the battlefield.  

Frank was locked in a stalemate with his target. The alien’s bioelectrogenesis offset the Sasquatch’s physical advantage. Neither of them was sure how many blasts a Sasquatch heart could endure before it stopped, but the Gray was eager to find out.

“You need help Frank?” Rogers asked.

The Sasquatch waved him off. “Just having a little fun with him before I kill him!”

Eddie rushed to Priscilla’s side and took her hand. “Hey, you.”

Priscilla managed a sly smile. “I thought I risked my life to keep you safe?”

“You hang tight. Lexi will have you out of here shortly,” Eddie replied. “She’s the best.”

A cough broke Priscilla's smile. “Haven’t you turned into quite the know-it-all?”

Eddie grinned. “Something like that.”

Bruce’s hawkish talons tore at the tender flesh of the Gray that orchestrated Priscilla’s torture. The alien fired electrical bolts at the Bat-boy, but the screeching imp masterfully dodged the lethal blasts. Echolocation proved a formidable defensive mechanism against the alien’s increasingly erratic attacks. Bruce climbed to the ceiling and dive-bombed his confounded target.

The scattershot Gray attack found its mark and scorched Bruce’s right wing-tip.

Bruce plummeted to the ground and flopped like a one-legged frog as the charge cycled through his body.

The triumphant alien turned his attention to Lexi. He grabbed her right wrist and jerked her away from the restraint console that bound Priscilla’s feet. “What excellent breeding stock! You will serve the inventory well for years to come!”

Lexi smacked and slapped at him with her free arm. “Ew! What are you doing, you sick, little freak? Let go of me!”

The Gray yanked her toward him.

“I’m warning you,” said Lexi. “Don’t make me use my vampire strength on you!”

Eddie grabbed Lexi’s other arm and tried to pry her from the Gray’s grip. 

Lexi turned to him. “Dude, what the hell? I’m not a Thanksgiving wishbone!”

Eddie released Lexi’s arm. Both she and the alien tumbled to the floor. She kicked the creature’s oversized head and scrambled free. She rushed back to her assignment. 

The Gray hobbled to his feet slowly. 

Eddie slammed into the wobbly-legged alien and knocked it to the ground again. He stood over the fallen Gray with a forest fire blazing in his eyes. “You like torture, pal? Then you’re going to love this!”  Fiery rings engulfed his hand and glowed like a miniature sun.  The alien recoiled from the sight. Eddie drew back a hand to hurl a flare, but the inferno fizzled on his fingertips. Weak wisps of white-hot vapor dissipated to the ceiling with a whimper.

The Starseed fell silent.

“Overconfident, glorified ape!” the alien hissed in English. He kicked Eddie in the crotch.

Eddie doubled over to nurse his wounded manhood. “I’m guessing every race in the galaxy has those, huh?”

The alien lumbered to its feet. Its long, bony fingers glowed like a neon sign and produced a zigzag bolt of silver lightning. The arcing blast struck Eddie’s chest. His heart felt like it exploded in his ribcage. He tried to raise a shield, but the Starseed wouldn’t cooperate. He cursed the entity’s fickleness. 

It delighted the Gray to suspend Eddie on his tiptoes in the thrall of his lightning. Eddie’s hair stood at attention like toy soldiers. His body undulated at the Gray’s cruelest whims, but his forced gambol was no playful frolic. He was dying. The others were too busy with troubles of their own to liberate him from the deadly dance. The voltage crippled even his most basic motor functions. He imagined a simple, six-word epitaph scribbled across his pauper’s tombstone, “Son of a bitch! That hurt!”.

The odious sparks dissipated, and Eddie collapsed to the concrete floor. His attacker left him to die, but either the Gray miscalculated what it would take to kill him, or some vestige of Starseed power kept him alive. Regardless of the reason, his heart still beat, and that was enough. It had to be.

Eddie’s would-be slayer targeted Bob.

Lilith warned Bob, and he whirled to defend himself from the electrical barrage. EGAD’s resident Gray stalemated the sadistic butcher’s attack with a lightning bolt of his own.

At first, neither Gray gained much traction, but the alien torturer was accustomed to such violence. Bob was better suited for a night of Dungeons and Dragons with one hand buried in a bag of Doritos and the other clutching a Dr. Pepper. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t a twenty-sided die in sight, and the battle was far more deadly than any role-playing game.

The contest went as well as Eddie expected. Bob yielded first an inch. The initial inch gave way to six more and then a foot and another. The trend continued until the infernal discharge glowed inches from Bob’s face. The poor little guy looked terrified.

Eddie wanted to help, but his motor skills remained scrambled.

Bob was millimeters from being fried when Atticus phased through the torturer. A violent scream curdled in the alien’s throat, and he thrashed wildly. His electrical attack ceased immediately. Atticus reappeared with a heart beating in each hand. The mortified alien stared in disbelief as Atticus tossed the spurting organs to the ground. Bob bathed the torturer in electricity for good measure.

“Better than forty dead men in a box,” Atticus beamed.

“Another antiquated reference?” Bob asked.

Lilith packed the last of the thumb drives into a pouch on her belt. “I’ve studied the colloquialisms of Atticus’s era to understand them better. I believe he refers to the number of bullets sold in a cartridge box in his day.”

Atticus smiled. “Excellent, Ms. Lilith!”

Movement returned to Eddie’s limbs, but even his taste buds hurt. Life was much easier as a two-bit loser paying homage to the King.

“Mr. King!” Rogers shouted.

At last, someone noticed him in the commotion.

Rogers rushed to Eddie’s side. “Are you hurt? What am I saying? Look at you! Of course, you are!”

“Feeling peachy,” Eddie stammered. With the return of his motor skills, he was more concerned with the Starseed’s sudden disappearance than his physical health. What caused the power failure when he needed it the most?

Frank lumbered toward his Gray opponent. The alien still possessed both his arms, but the Sasquatch was a mess. Repeated electrical attacks dropped him to one knee. The Gray pressed his advantage and poured on the electricity. But to the alien’s chagrin, the more electricity that gushed into Frank’s body, the angrier he became. Rage powered him to his feet and drove him toward his smaller foe. He was hell-bent on the Gray’s destruction even if it meant his own demise.

“Frank, back off!” Rogers ordered. He pulled his gun and aimed at the Gray.

The Gray turned away from Frank and zapped the weapon from Rogers’ hand. It was all the distraction Frank needed for a final lunge. Nine hundred pounds of Sasquatch crashed down on the creature.

The alien unleashed a desperate discharge, but Frank grabbed the Gray’s left arm and ripped the limb from its body. Green blood spurted all over Frank and onto the concrete floor. The Gray wailed in horror, and the current weakened until it ceased entirely. Having finally vanquished his foe, Frank panted like a wild animal and stood triumphant.  “Little bastards are tougher than they look.”

Lexi finally cracked the code on the Malicium monitoring device. She and Hilda helped Priscilla down from the examination table. Priscilla’s legs wobbled, but she brushed aside their assistance and found her footing.

Frank joined Rogers and helped Eddie toward the table. “Easy does it, kid. You took quite a beating and lived to tell about it. Maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye!”

“What the hell happened to my powers?” Eddie asked.

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know, but you need to get that Starseed working before the welcome wagon arrives.”

Eddie twitched a crooked grin into place. “Surely you’re not suggesting a retreat?”

Frank’s mighty right hand buckled the metal examination table. “Sasquatch do not run!”

“Oh, come on, Frank,” said Rogers. “That’s just posturing.”

The Sasquatch kicked the mangled table into a corner. 

“I don’t think the yoga is working,” said Eddie. His knees buckled, and Rogers helped him to the ground.

Frank watched the door. “No pressure, but you need to Starseed us the hell out of here now!”

“Back off, Frank,” said Rogers. “He’s still addled.”

Priscilla made her way to Eddie. She and Rogers knelt at his side. Her long fingers weaved through Eddie’s dark locks. “How did you find me, Moneybags?”

Eddie’s Elvis lip twitched involuntarily. “My Starseed manifested.”

“Yeah?” Priscilla asked. Her smile glowed like a birthday candle. 

It felt good to play Priscilla’s hero for once, even if Eddie nearly got himself killed in the process. He couldn’t but wonder if there was a chance for the two of them if he stayed with EGAD. 

Angry wrinkles raked across Priscilla’s brow and chased away her angelic smile. “Then why the hell are you here? What were you thinking? We have protocols for situations like this! They don’t include charging into the Death Star because you got a little taste of the Force! Use your brain! You could have gotten yourself killed and everyone else too!”

Rogers smirked. “Stick around! There’s still plenty of time for that!”

Atticus phased into the hallway and returned with wide eyes. “We have to go now! Company’s on the way, and they don’t look happy!”

Priscilla helped Eddie to his feet. “We can’t leave now.”

“We have to Priscilla,” Rogers explained. “This was a simple extraction, in and out.”

Priscilla shook her head in protest. “Then consider the mission changed! I escaped yesterday and found my way into Nightmare Hall. There are human prisoners down there. The experiments they’re conducting on them are beyond comprehension.”

Eddie rubbed the knot on the back of his head. “And I’m the one not using my brain?”

“We can’t stay, Agent Day,” said Rogers. “It’s a death trap.”

Priscilla crossed her arms defiantly.

“There are five levels of the United States military above this facility, and they don’t venture down here for a very good reason,” said Rogers. “What chance do we have?”

“That’s hypocritical bullshit, and you know it,” Priscilla replied. “That’s why this organization exists, to protect and serve the planet!”

Eddie was willing to go along with whatever consensus Priscilla and her uncle agreed upon, but they had bigger problems. “Uh… guys, I don’t think we have a choice.”

“Mr. King?” Rogers asked.

Eddie shrugged. “It’s not just my offensive capabilities that fizzled. It’s everything. The Starseed is giving me the cold shoulder again.” 

Chapter Twenty-Three

A klaxon alarm bleated away in the background.

“What now?” Frank asked.

Expectant eyes looked to Eddie for an answer, but the enigmatic Starseed fell silent as a haunted wood.

“Eddie?” Rogers asked. “Please tell me the Starseed is whispering a brilliant plan in your ear!”

Eddie’s fingers fumbled through his raven mop but found no answer buried in his dark locks.

“Somebody say something!” Bruce yelled.

Priscilla was in no shape to fight but refused to flee Dulce with her tail between her legs. “We rescue the victims trapped below.”

Tight wrinkles formed around Rogers’ narrowing eyes. “With all due respect, you want to fight our way deeper into the base?”

“Sir, the horrors I saw down there ...” Priscilla replied.

“I understand, and I’m sympathetic,” said Rogers. “But we lack the resources to facilitate a full-scale prison break. We’ll be lucky to get ourselves out of here!”

“But if I made it as far as I did alone….” Priscilla volleyed back.

Atticus piped in. “You took them by surprise last time, Ms. Priscilla.”

Hans shook out his large, black wings. “I agree with Director Rogers and Atticus. Your proposal is more of a suicide gauntlet than a rescue, Agent Day.”

“The subject isn’t open for debate,” said Rogers. “I’m sorry, Priscilla, but the answer is no.”

Priscilla slammed her fist into the mangled examination table Frank wrecked moments before. “Fine, but I don’t like it!”

Rogers eyed the door nervously. “Your objection is noted. I’m not crazy about leaving them behind either, but our best shot at a successful rescue is to return when we’re better prepared.” 

Bob dialed in a live security feed on a monitor on the back wall. A dozen armed Reptilians rushed through the corridors in double file. One didn’t need a Starseed to guess where they were headed.

“Looks like the company Atticus warned us about is almost here,” said Frank.

Rogers nudged Bob aside and cycled through the security feeds himself. “We can’t let them trap us here! Priscilla, how well do you know the layout?”

Priscilla rubbed her aching hand. “I was drugged and running for my life when I was free, but maybe I’ll spot something familiar while we’re on the move.”

“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” Rogers interjected. “Everyone follow Priscilla’s lead!”

Frank blocked the door with his massive frame. “No, it should be me. She can barely stand.”

“Thanks, but I’m good to lead the way,” Priscilla replied.

Frank braced himself in the doorway. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Step aside, Frank!” Priscilla demanded. She glared up at the hulking Sasquatch. “That’s a direct order!”

The two stared one another down. Frank relented.

Luther waved his arms frantically.

“Wait,” Eddie shouted. “Luther has something to say!”

It wasn’t often Rogers looked surprised. “If you can see him, does that mean the Starseed is back?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know what it means. He’s more of a blur now but still visible. Luther?”

“I can make another jump,” Luther replied, his voice muffled.  “Unfortunately, I can’t take everyone, and I’ll need time to recharge before I return for a second group.”

It wasn’t the news Eddie wanted to hear, but it was a step in the right direction. “You won’t get lost without me?”

“I scattered breadcrumbs along the way on the trip here,” Luther replied.

“And you’re sure you can do it safely?” Eddie asked.

Luther nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s he saying?” Rogers asked.

“The good news is that he can make another jump. He marked the path on our way here,” Eddie explained. “He won’t need me to guide him.”

Rogers sighed. “And the bad news?”

“He can’t take us all,” Eddie replied. “He’ll also need to recharge before he returns for a second group.”

Rogers rubbed his chin. “I have a plan. How many can he take?”

Luther held up five fingers.

“Five,” Eddie relayed.

Rogers picked five agents. “Hilda, Hans, Lilith, Priscilla, and Shamus, you’re with Luther.”

“Like hell I am!” Priscilla protested.

Rogers sighed. “You need medical attention.”

“And I will get it, but I know what we’re facing out there,” Priscilla replied. “That experience may come in handy! Besides, didn’t you just tell me to lead the way?”

“That was when I didn’t have a choice,” Rogers replied.

Priscilla crossed her arms.

Rogers took stock of the remaining agents. “Bruce, you’re with Luther.”

“What?” Bruce shrieked. “Are you serious? Agent Day is wounded!”

“And more stubborn than both of us combined,” Rogers replied. “She let me have the win with the prisoners. Do you think she’ll give me two in a row?”

Bruce threw up his hands. “Dammit!” 

“The rest of us will be along when Luther can make a second jump,” Rogers replied.

“With all due respect, sir,” Shamus argued in his Highland drawl. “Ye may yet require the luck of the Irish if ye find yourself in a jam.”

“And the Mrs. and I can more than hold our own,” Hans added.

Rogers nodded. “Agreed, but my plan requires specific skills and isn’t a reflection on anyone’s competence. There’s no time to argue. Those Reptilians will be here any minute.” 

“What about the telekinetic platform and your shields?” Lilith asked. “Can we survive the dimensional zone without them?”

Luther nodded. “I can manage this small group if they hold hands.”

“Luther says yes,” Eddie replied. “He needs you to lock hands.”

The dismissed agents locked hands and formed more of an inkblot than a circle. They disappeared the moment Luther grabbed Hilda’s leathery hand and closed the formation.  

Six agents were left with Eddie to hear the annoying clang of the tattletale alarm; Priscilla, Rogers, Frank, Bob, Lexi, and Atticus.

“So, what’s the plan, Chief?” Eddie asked.

 “There is no plan,” Rogers replied. “The fewer agents I have to worry about while wandering these corridors, the better. But if I told them that, they would argue to stay with their dying breaths.” 

Priscilla eyed the remaining agents. “You had to have something in mind for this particular group.”

“You’re here because you’re so damn stubborn,” Rogers replied. “Frank for his brawn and experience. Bob knows the Gray better than anyone, Atticus can’t be harmed, and we may need Lexi’s expertise with computer systems.”

“And me?” Eddie asked. “Wouldn’t Shamus be better-suited for this mission since my powers are kaput again?”

“He makes a good point,” Frank added.

Rogers' icy blue eyes met Eddie’s gaze. “I’m banking on the Starseed’s return. Let’s move!”

“Shouldn’t we wait?” Lexi asked. “For Luther to come back, I mean?”

Rogers shook his head. “We can’t allow the Reptilians to pin us in here. They’ll flood the room with more firepower than we can handle.”

“Rogers is right,” said Priscilla. She placed an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. “We have to move, but don’t worry, we’ve been in worse spots, kid.”

“You’re all going to die,” Lexi droned. “And I’ll be left alone in this dump as breeding stock.”

Priscilla released Lexi and gathered blasters from the fallen Reptilians. She kept one for herself and tossed one each to Eddie and Lexi.

Lexi’s face contorted at the sight of the weapon. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Eddie pointed to the trigger. “Pull that to fire.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Duh, you think? I just meant guns aren’t my thing.”

“Keep it to intimidate them then,” Priscilla replied. “We need to move now.”

“With all due respect to both Frank and Agent Day, let me take a peek to assure the coast is clear,” said Atticus. “Blaster fire will pass through me.”

Rogers nodded. “Good call, Atticus.”

The ghost phased through the door and half-returned with his head and torso leaning into the room. “The coast is clear in either direction.”

“Good enough,” Rogers replied. “We can figure it out as we go. Maybe Priscilla will spot something familiar.”

Priscilla stepped into the motion sensor’s range. The door whooshed open. “I wouldn’t count on it. Daedalus himself would be proud of this maze.” She darted into the hallway and ran to the right.

The others followed her into the baleful drab-gray passage while the alarm crowed unabated. 

“Maintain a single file and stick close to the walls,” Rogers instructed. “Make yourselves as small as possible.”

Bob filed in behind Priscilla. Atticus followed Rogers. Eddie, and Lexi. Frank brought up the rear.

“Take a right at the corridor ahead,” Rogers called.

Unfortunately, a pair of Reptilians emerged into the corridor at the opposite end and spotted them. The Reptilians opened fire and torched Eddie’s left sideburn. He hated the smell of burning hair, especially his own.

Rogers and Priscilla returned fire.

The firefight attracted attention, and the corridor quickly filled with Reptilians eager to slay them. 

Priscilla pointed to the thick steel support braces that framed the walls and ceilings. “Take cover behind the braces!”

“You heard the lady! Move!” Rogers shouted over the din. He returned fire and shuffled Eddie, Bob, and Lexi to safety behind him.

Eddie took cover with Bob and Lexi. Priscilla was across from them. He assumed Rogers, Frank, and Atticus took cover ahead of them.

The firefight grew more intense. The EGAD team was badly outnumbered with four blasters between them, and Lexi wasn’t firing hers. She flinched every time a blaster pinged the steel in front of her. Her ghoulish makeup did nothing to hide the fear in her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked the scared teen. What was Rogers thinking, bringing a kid into battle?

Lexi wiped away tears with shaky hands. “Immortals can’t die! Immortals can’t die!”

“No one is going to die today!” Eddie assured her. “Rogers will get us out here!”

“Oh sure,” Bob complained. “Show concern for the human female! I suppose it doesn’t matter what happens to me?”

Eddie peeked around the brace and added to the laser fire that engulfed the halls. He returned to his position. “Come, on, Bob! She’s a kid.” 

For once, Lexi didn’t argue.

“My concern for her isn’t indicative of a lack of concern for your safety,” Eddie explained. “But look at her. She’s scared to death. You’re not.”

“Our law doesn’t allow them to slay another Gray,” Bob replied. “Ergo, I have no reason to fear.”

Eddie ticked off three points with his fingers. “One, those are Reptilians, not your fellow Gray. Two, you betrayed the Gray decades ago. And three, that sadistic son of a bitch who attacked you was perfectly content to kill you.”

“But our law….” Bob argued.

“Are you willing to stake your life on your people following the law when they’ve broken every treaty they’ve ever signed?” Eddie asked.

Lexi finally composed herself. “Yeah, dude. You’re like, totally screwed.”

“Tell me about Leopold,” Eddie said. He hoped to get Lexi’s mind on something else. “That is his name?”

Lexi nodded. “He’s amazing and so handsome it almost hurts to look at him.”

“Sounds like you’re a lucky girl,” Eddie replied. He wasn’t sure what drew Lexi to vampire lore. But if talking about it distracted her from their present circumstances, then he was happy to indulge her.

“Very much so,” said Lexi. “One of these days, he will whisk me away to his castle in Slovenia.”

“Must you encourage her fantasies?” Bob whined.

Eddie shot Bob the evil eye and hoped he took the hint to shut up. “Go on, Lexi.”

“It will be so romantic,” Lexi purred.

“Does this romance come before or after his candlesticks and clocks sing and dance?” Bob asked.

Eddie wished Bob would shut up but suppressed an amused grin. “It does sound romantic, and I’m sure Leopold is a great guy! I can’t wait to meet him one day!”  

“Yeah, a great guy,” Bob added. “For an imaginary boyfriend!”

Eddie’s plan worked too well. Lexi wandered away from the wall to argue with Bob. She rested her hands on her hips, oblivious to the danger and eager to prove her point. “Nobody asked you, ass-face!”

Laser fire barely missed her.

Eddie pulled Lexi to safety and pressed her against the wall with his arm.

“Dude! Watch your hands!” Lexi shouted. “You just grabbed my boob!”

Mortified, Eddie withdrew his hand. “No, I grabbed your shoulder!”

“But your hand brushed against my boob!” Lexi replied.

Touching Lexi’s breast was an accident. Eddie pointed down the corridor to the Reptilians. “I was trying to save you!  A “thank you” would be great!”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Thank you for grabbing my boob, perv! Is that better?”

Eddie’s thoughts drifted to the jailbait girl he ogled on the sidewalk in Pigeon Forge. He guessed she was about Lexi’s age. It was no wonder the mud was so thick in the swamp when Luther penetrated the dimensions.

Priscilla’s attention diverted from the Reptilians to the boob talk across the corridor from her. “Eddie! What the hell? She’s a kid!”

“I was trying to push her back!” Eddie stammered. “I wasn’t….”

The condemnation in Priscilla’s eyes stung. “Save it for another time!”

Eddie felt even swampier. Did Priscilla really think he would take advantage of a kid?

“What’s going on out there?” Priscilla asked, jerking her head toward the action in the corridor. The grimace on her face indicated she was in more pain than she let on. 

“I don’t know!” Eddie yelled across the way. “They’re firing at us!”

A volley of blaster fire kept Priscilla pinned behind the steel brace. “Gee, you think? Take a look and see!”

Eddie peeked around the brace and ducked quickly back into place. “They’re still shooting at us!”

“Nothing gets past that Starseed of yours, does it?” Priscilla shot back. “How many and what are their positions?”

Eddie wasn’t about to conduct a census. “Too many, and they’re everywhere!”

“Look again!” Priscilla demanded. “You have to be my eyes and ears, Eddie! I can’t move quickly enough to protect myself!”

Eddie wasn’t keen on the idea of poking his head into the firefight. He was less enthused about Priscilla putting herself in danger.

Bob tugged Eddie’s left arm.  “Go on then. We don’t have all day.”

Eddie felt like a skeet waiting in the trap but poked his head into the teeth of the battle. Blaster fire lit up the brace in front of Frank like a welder’s torch. Rogers peppered the corridor with his blaster, but the Reptilians advanced slowly against the onslaught. Eddie added his fire to the fight, but it wasn’t enough. Reinforcements rushed onto the scene to strengthen the Reptilian advance.

Eddie returned to safety behind the brace. “We’re screwed,” he shouted to Priscilla. “There are at least a couple dozen or so counting the reinforcements that just arrived!”

“What now?” Frank shouted above the metallic ping of blaster fire against metal. “They’ll overtake us soon!”

“We shoot back until one of us thinks of a better plan!” Rogers replied.

Frank retrieved his sling and whipped the limp cords into a whirling dervish before him. The centrifuge activated with a furious roar. The Sasquatch stepped into the corridor and released the sling’s pent-up energy. It struck a charging Reptilian in the chest and evaporated him instantly. His comrades-in-arms scurried for shelter. Frank seized upon their retreat and advanced to the brace ahead of him.

If Eddie was ever going to be Priscilla’s eyes and ears, it was time to move. He turned to Bob. “Keep Lexi out of trouble!”

Atticus half-phased from the wall behind them, so only his torso was visible. “What are you going to do, Mr. Eddie?”

Lexi screamed. “Shit! Don’t sneak up on us like that!”

“Sorry, Ms. Lexi,” said Atticus. “Do you have a plan, Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes shot toward the laser-filled corridor. “I have to help.”

“Oh no, Mr. Eddie!” Atticus replied. “You can’t do that! It’s certain death!”

“And the team’s ghostly member doesn’t see the irony in that statement?” Eddie asked. 

After three deep breaths, Eddie shot around the protective brace that shielded him from the blaster fire. He skipped the empty metal support that Frank vacated moments before and flattened himself against the wall behind the Sasquatch.

“Mr. King! What are you doing?” Rogers called.

Frank was surprised to see he had company. “What the hell are you doing, Starseed? You’re the one I’m risking my neck to protect!”

“I want to help!” Eddie replied.

“Help? We need to get you somewhere safe!” Rogers shouted.

“I’m learning that “safe” is a relative term in the EGAD dictionary!” Eddie replied. 

“We have rules, Mr. King!” Rogers replied. “Rule number one – don’t get yourself killed! Rule number two – don’t get yourself killed!”

“Rule number three,” Frank yelled. “Don’t…”

“I get it! I get it!” said Eddie. 

Eddie peeked again. “They’re moving closer.”

“Enough of this then,” said Frank. He whipped to life the vortex within his sling and stepped into the corridor again. He unleashed its blast, but this time the Reptilians weren’t his target but rather the support beam that topped one of the wall braces. The direct hit weakened the brace and caved in the concrete ceiling between them and the Reptilians. “Consider that payback for our train tunnel!”  

“That should buy us a little time,” said Rogers. “But we need to keep moving and stay alive until Luther returns!”

“You heard the man! Let’s move!” said Frank.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He caught up with a limping, hobbled Priscilla. “You okay?”

“Do I look okay?” Priscilla snapped.

It was a simple question. Why did Priscilla make everything so complicated? “You know what? Screw this! I’m done!” Eddie raced past her and didn’t look back.

Rogers and Frank caught up to Priscilla. Eddie strained to hear their conversation.

“Was that necessary?” Rogers asked Priscilla. “He’s genuinely concerned about you.”

The vindication was sweet to Eddie’s ears.

“Noted,” Priscilla replied with the charm of an old-fashioned mace and chain to the side of the head.  

“He was just checking on you,” Rogers replied.

“With the inference that I’m weak and needed his help,” Priscilla shot back.

Priscilla’s acerbic comment reminded Eddie why he preferred one-night stands. Women were difficult to understand on their best days. At their worst, he’d rather share a sleeping bag with an angry Reptilian.

The group rounded a turn and stumbled upon two Reptilians pushing a gurney that carried the Gray that Frank dismembered.

Rogers shot both Reptilians dead before they drew their hand blasters.

“Which way, Director Rogers, sir?” Atticus asked as the group raced through the labyrinth.

The distant thunder of boots shuffling against concrete put a spring in everyone’s step.

The group arrived at a long, wide corridor that dissected the massive facility.

“Looks like the main artery,” said Rogers.

The corridor was long and broader than those they encountered already. It offered a straight shot across the underground bunker.

“Should we take it or stay on the current route?” Priscilla asked.

“Your call, Rogers,” said Frank. “There may be a way out on the other side.”

Rogers nodded. “Or there may be more of the same. Being that it cuts across the entire facility, we’d be exposed for a longer time, and there’s nowhere to take cover.”

“And every corridor feeds directly into it,” Priscilla replied. “I learned that much when I was on the run.”

Rogers eyed the temptation carefully. “Increases the likelihood of unwanted company cutting us off.”

“But how long can we stay on this path and remain alive?” Bob asked. “We keep running into trouble here too.”              

The choice was made for them. A couple of Gray entered the artery from the intersecting corridor at the far end with Reptilian shock troops in tow. They spotted the EGAD team and opened fire.

The fleeing agents scampered behind the corners formed where the main artery intersected the corridor. Eddie, Frank, and Rogers huddled on one side of the intersection. The remainder of the team was on the other. No more than twelve feet separated them, but it may as well have been a mile with the heavy fire slicing through the passage.

“I know where we are!” Priscilla yelled across to Rogers. “I was on the opposite end of the corridor before, but the layout makes sense now! The lower level should be just ahead!” She pointed to the angled wall of the honeycomb layout ahead of her.

“Then you guys go!” Rogers yelled. “We’ll catch up when and if we can!”

Priscilla popped out of hiding and unleashed a round of blaster fire that scrambled their foes at the other end of the corridor. “Like hell, you will! My mission is to protect the Starseed!”

Eddie popped his head out so he could see Priscilla. “Maybe I don’t want your help!”

Priscilla leaned to meet his gaze. “I didn’t ask! My mission is to….”

“Consider your mission canceled!” Eddie replied.

“Like hell it is!” Priscilla answered. “You don’t have the authority to….”

“Will you two shut up?” Rogers yelled. “This is no time for a lover’s quarrel!”

“We’re not lovers!” Eddie and Priscilla bellowed in unison.

Rogers waved for Priscilla’s group to continue without them. “Go!’

“We all make it, or we all die here!” Priscilla replied.

Eddie saddled up to Rogers. “What’s the plan, Chief?”

Rogers grinned. “I thought “run like hell” was our plan.”

 “Something more specific,” Eddie replied. 

Frank rolled his eyes. “Like the brilliant strategy you pulled out of your ass that brought us here in the first place?”

Eddie shrugged. “I’ll fall on that grenade, but this isn’t the time to argue. We need to get to the other side.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Frank replied. 

“Sometimes, fellas, you just have to take a chance and hope it turns out okay,” said Rogers. He yelled across the divide to Priscilla. “Cover me! I’m coming to you!”

Priscilla peered into the teeth of the oncoming laser blasts and lit up the corridor. The steady fire kept the aliens at bay long enough for Rogers to sprint across the opening. The Reptilian onslaught singed his jacket tail, but he made it unscathed.

Frank patted Eddie’s shoulder and waved him toward the corridor. “You go next!”

“And leave you here alone?” Eddie asked.

Frank peeked around the corner. “Look, kid. Somewhere inside of you is this planet’s only hope. We need to get you back to headquarters in one piece.”

Eddie realized Frank wouldn’t take no for an answer and resigned himself to a lost argument. He backed down the intersecting hallway for a running start.  

Frank waved him across the corridor. “That’s the wrong direction! What are you doing?”

“You never attended public school, did you, Frank?” Eddie asked.

Frank shook his head. “Of course not. What the hell are you babbling about?”

“Watch and learn,” said Eddie. He darted toward the opening. 

Frank’s eyes popped out of his head like turtle shells. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

Just as Frank’s last couple of words escaped his mouth, Eddie dived to the floor. He slid across the slick concrete on his belly. He had crossed the corridor by the time the Reptilians adjusted their fire. 

Priscilla scooted her gun across the floor to Frank. “Here you go, Big Guy! We don’t have time for your sling to warm up!”

Frank retrieved the blaster.

Rogers ducked around the corner and laid down cover.

Frank rushed into the corridor and stopped to spray the enemy with blaster fire. 

“Do you have a death wish?” Eddie shouted to the Sasquatch. “Get over here, you big idiot, before you get yourself killed!”

 “He’s right, Frank! That’s enough!” Rogers ordered. “Get over here now!” 

Frank got off a few more shots and joined his team. He returned the blaster to Priscilla. Their group was at full strength once more.             

“What now?” Bob asked.

“Looks like we’re headed to the basement after all,” Rogers replied. “Lead the way, Priscilla.”

Priscilla hobbled to the lead, and everyone fell in behind her.

“What if the circus freaks reach the basement before we do?” Lexi asked.

“Not acceptable. It’s that simple. Frank, get your sling ready to go!” Priscilla ordered.

Frank retrieved his sling. “You want me to cave in the ceiling again?”

Priscilla shook her head. “No, but if the door is closed, we’ll need your firepower to take it out. Blasters won’t cut it.”

“Or Lexi can crack the code,” said Rogers. “It won’t attract as much attention.”

Priscilla shook her head. “I shot out the control panel.”

“Frank, get your sling ready,” said Rogers.

Eddie rushed to Priscilla’s side. “Hey, what you said earlier to Rogers….”

“Yeah?” Priscilla asked.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Eddie snapped.

Priscilla nodded. “I know, I’m just….”

“It wasn’t an apology,” said Eddie.

Priscilla’s brow wrinkled. “Okay then, whatever.”

Eddie skidded to a halt.

The sudden stop caused a pileup behind him.

He whipped around. “Priscilla, I was doing fine before I met you, any of you! This life may be normal to all of you, but it scares the hell out of me! You treat me like a joke because I can’t control the Starseed! Well, I’m done! You can all kiss my ass, including the Starseed!”

“I hope I haven’t treated you that way, Mr. Eddie,” said Atticus. “I’m sorry if I….”

The apparition’s decency cooled Eddie’s righteous indignation. “Not you, Atticus. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman. But the rest of you? If you’re not ordering me around like a cabin boy, you’re doing your damnedest to humiliate me!” He turned again to Priscilla. “And you! The sex was great, amazing even! So there’s everyone’s answer! Yes, we had sex! And it was fan-fucking-tastic! The best I’ve ever had! And I thought maybe we had something, but that’s just another joke to you, right? I’m nothing but some loser living in a campground! Your interest in me is limited to this damn alien inside of me!”

Eddie’s outburst put the group in their place, Starseed or not; he was a human being and not a yo-yo. He was done with being a god one minute and a pariah the next, depending on the whims of some fickle alien squatter. Having spoken his mind, he resumed his trek through the base. Everyone filed in behind him in palpable silence. 

Priscilla rushed to Eddie’s side. “Hey, I’m a jerk.”

It would take more than self-deprecation to appease Eddie’s anger. “Whatever, it’s cool. When this is over, we’ll… what was it you said about our one-night stand? We’ll go our “Separate Ways.”

Priscilla grabbed his arm as they rounded the corner. “No, it’s not cool. I was way out of line. You were just trying….”

“Look, I said I’m fine. Just drop it,” Eddie replied. He jerked away from her grasp.

“Fine!” Priscilla shot back. “I can’t wait until this is over and you’re out of my life for good!”

“Likewise,” said Eddie.

Priscilla didn’t see them when they turned the corner, but Eddie did. A repair crew worked feverishly to replace the control panel Priscilla damaged earlier. Four guards watched over the maintenance workers. Eddie reached for his blaster, but it was too late. The guards had the drop on them, and one of them pulled the trigger. 

“Look out!” Eddie cried.

The events unfolded in slow motion, like when the Starseed first manifested. The blast shot toward Priscilla, but Eddie leaped in front of it. The blue beam tore through his chest, and darkness claimed him. The last thing he heard was Priscilla screaming his name.

Chapter Twenty-Four

T he last thing Eddie remembered was the blinding light of Reptilian blaster fire. It ripped through his chest, but the abruptness of his death liberated him from the sharpness of its pain. The sudden, excessive violence of the whole affair failed to register on his brain at all.

One moment he enjoyed the glow of life, and it was snuffed by transcendent darkness the next. Whether divine intervention or simply a trick his brain played to spare him the trauma, he was thankful for the mercy.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Eddie called to the empty void. The blighted expanse’s overwhelming gravity crushed the words as they rolled off his tongue. “Can someone please tell me where I am?”  

Eddie pushed himself off the floor. It was warm, but the foreboding heat generated no glow to pierce the ravenous dark. Nor did the warmth provide any measure of comfort. It was just there. Eddie lumbered to his feet. “Hello? Come on; you’ve had your fun!”

The silence roared back like a hungry predator.  

Eddie inched one foot in front of the other and braved the lonely, unblinking gloom. The irrational fear of falling into a pit haunted each careful, deliberate step. Or perhaps he was in a hole already, or worse - a grave. He pushed such morbid deliberations from his mind and resumed his exploration.

Hours passed, but Eddie encountered no walls or objects while mapping his surroundings. He was alone in the dark with the seemingly infinite floor his only companion.

His knees buckled at the prospect of a bleak, infinite nothingness. Madness knocked on the back door of his brain. He needed one of Hank’s pep talks. His mentor once convinced him to return to the stage after he ripped a jumpsuit and exposed himself to the audience while singing, of all songs, “You Gave Me A Mountain.” He wondered why the ladies in the audience started whooping and hollering like they were in a strip club. Old Hank always knew the right thing to say. But Hank wasn’t around, so Eddie had to calm his jitters himself.

The afterlife wasn’t all bad. For the first time in days, there was no imminent danger from aliens or monsters. That alone was a win, and wins were in scarce supply for the dead. Sure, it was glass-half-full thinking, but it was enough to drown the despair for someone whose glass was ever-empty.

The fragrance of honeysuckle wafted into his nose. He often smelled the sweet flower while hiking to the Chimney Tops in the Smoky Mountains with girls he met. The hikers were the worst; too much work to get them naked, and the long, strenuous hikes left him too exhausted to perform well in bed. 

The honeysuckle drifted away as suddenly as it appeared. The floor grew noticeably hotter. Eddie longed for the tiny flower’s comforting scent to return, but the fetid stench of an old man’s pipe tobacco fouled the air instead. He recognized the blend, the same one that “Uncle Harold” used.

Harold wasn’t his real uncle, of course. He was one half of a couple that kept Eddie for about six months when he was twelve years old. It was the only time the Great State of Tennessee intervened on his behalf and removed him from a foster home.

Eddie hadn’t thought of Harold and Suzette Norman in years. It was a shame Uncle Harold was so touchy with young boys because Eddie genuinely liked Aunt Sue. She was good to him and baked chocolate chip cookies every Sunday after church. The last Eddie heard, she divorced Harold after learning of his fondness for young boys.

The smell of Aunt Sue’s chocolate chip cookies drifted into Eddie’s nostrils from across the years. The welcome-home aroma didn’t invoke hunger but gave him the strength to stand once more.

A door groaned open and slammed in the distance. 

“Hello?” Eddie called, but no one answered. “If someone is there, please say something.”

The darkness’s taciturn reply pocked his skin with goosebumps. Anything could lurk in the mysterious void. The preceding days taught him there were a lot more “anythings” in the universe than he previously dreamed possible. He sheltered in place.  

The creaking of stairs set his heart racing.

“Whoever you are, this isn’t funny!” Eddie shouted. The sinister darkness amplified his throbbing heartbeat.

A pinprick of light floated before him like a playful fairy scattering pixie dust in her wake. The lambent glow was minuscule but swelled in intensity and bloomed to a blinding radiance.

The presence of light, any light, was welcome but terrified him at the same time. The ominous darkness concealed Eddie from its horrors. But the light exposed him to whatever lurked in the void. His preference for darkness over light was an ironic contradiction best left to philosophers and spiritual gurus. The radiance exploded like a firework. His dilated pupils cowered from its effulgence.

“What the hell?” Eddie mumbled to no one in particular as his vision cleared.

The floor heated up again. 

“Uh… not quite, son,” an oddly familiar voice replied.

“Who’s there?” Eddie asked.

The supernatural glow dissipated, and Eddie stood face-to-face with him.

Elvis Presley.

The King wore the Aztec Sundial jumpsuit from his last performances. It wasn’t as well-known as the famous American Eagle or even Eddie’s personal favorite, the Black Phoenix, but he appreciated its elegance and craftsmanship just the same. Someone tried to sell him a replica once, but he declined. It seemed like bad juju.

“Elvis?” Eddie asked.

Elvis’s lip curled into one of the world’s most famous smiles. “Well, it’s not Jack Benny.”

Eddie’s senses reeled. Was the King real or an illusion? Did it matter? “Excuse me? What’s going on? Is this…”

Elvis opened his arms to show off their surroundings, a recording studio. “Where it all began.”

Eddie’s unspoken guess was correct; he was in the tracking room at the world-famous Sun Studios in Memphis, Tennessee. The Birthplace of Rock and Roll. Eddie visited Sun once, but it was different. Gone were the drums the rock band U2 left behind after their “Rattle and Hum” session. Also conspicuously absent was the large framed photograph of the so-called “Million Dollar Quartet.” It was taken on a historic day in which Elvis, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins visited the studio simultaneously and enjoyed an impromptu jam session.

The upright piano that Jerry Lee once pounded sat against the wall to his right. A doghouse bass leaned into the corner formed between the piano and the wall. Its gut strings turned inward like a child hiding her eyes to count for a game of hide-and-seek. An old-style condenser microphone hung from a boom stand like an upside-down Coke bottle on the other side of the room. Eddie recognized it as a Shure 55, the “Elvis” mic, as it was known, and the one used in the “That’s Alright” session.

“What am I doing here?” Eddie asked, enchanted by his surroundings.

“You’re dead, Eddie,” Elvis replied.

The comment caught Eddie off-guard. “You know me?”

Elvis chuckled. “That’s your takeaway? I just told you that you’re dead!”

“Then why do I see you and not the Pearly Gates?” Eddie asked.

Elvis pointed up. “The Big Guy’s orders. He sent me.”

“You mean God?” Eddie asked.

Elvis shrugged. “Or George Burns. I forget which.”

Eddie was tired of games. “No disrespect, but I’ve stayed a step behind lately. Everybody seems wise to some big, cosmic joke but me. I can’t get straight answers, and now I’m dead and still getting the runaround!”

Elvis grabbed a stool and sat. “It’s simple. You’re dead.”

Eddie heard him the first time, but the confirmation chilled his spine.

“Look around,” said Elvis. “Is Sun Records the last place you remember?”

It wasn’t, but the famous studio was a welcome change from an underground facility teeming with hostile aliens hellbent on his destruction.

“So Heaven’s a recording studio?” Eddie asked.

Elvis shrugged. “If that’s what you want it to be. I chose it because it reminds me of simpler times when it was just me, Scotty, Bill, and DJ - the Blue Moon Boys. It was all about the music in those days.”

“And the girls,” Eddie laughed.

A sheepish grin spread across Elvis’s face. “That goes without saying, right?”

Eddie laughed. “So I can change the scenery?”

Elvis shrugged. “Sure, give it a try!”

The scenery shifted to a stage in the middle of a large arena.

“So, this is your dream, Madison Square Garden?” Elvis asked. “A lot of great memories here too!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want it like this,” Eddie replied. “Not by dying at the hands of aliens.”

Elvis ran his fingers through his dark locks. Not a hair slipped out of place. “Do you think I would have chosen my inglorious exit? If it were up to me, I would have recorded an album of new stuff, think Moody Blue but more modern. More than anything else, I would have said goodbye to my baby girl, let her know Daddy loves her forever. But life’s not that way, Eddie. I died; you died.”

“So that blast from the Reptilian….” Eddie asked without finishing his sentence.

Elvis mimed pulling the trigger of a gun. “Yeah, man. But what a way to go.”

“I guess we all go some way,” Eddie answered. “I’m kind of disappointed, though.”

“That you went out like that?” Elvis asked. “How many can say aliens offed them?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, that was fine, but I’m disappointed to see you here.”

Elvis pointed to the floor. “You thought I would end up… down there instead? I had my faults, but I wasn’t that bad of a guy!”

Eddie dismissed the King’s errant suggestion. “That’s not what I meant at all! I held out hope you were still alive and kicking. I’ve studied the conspiracy theories for years. Some of them are pretty convincing.”

Elvis shook his head. “Nope, I was taking care of business, if you know what I mean. I felt a twinge of pain in my chest, and the next thing I knew, I saw Momma and my twin brother, Jesse. I ran to her, and all the hurt and pain and loneliness just disappeared in her arms.”

Eddie patted Elvis on the back. “Yeah, I get that, but why don’t I see anyone else? You saw your family immediately. I sat in the dark for hours until you scared the daylights out of me. Are you sure this is Heaven?”

“It sure ain’t Burger King, Jack!” Elvis laughed, wiping a sentimental tear from his eye. He pointed to the floor. “I’d rather have ended up down there than working a fast-food job, though. Those food workers have my respect for what they endure.”

“I mean, this is Heaven?” Eddie asked. “The real deal?” 

Elvis shook his head. “Not exactly. This is a processing point.”

“So, my immortal soul is in a holding pattern right now?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, man,” Elvis shot back. “You can think of it that way.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to the question that burned in his mind. “Why?”

“Big Guy’s orders,” Elvis replied. “I don’t make the rules, man.”

An awkward silence followed before Eddie finally spoke again. “My friends told me you also hosted the same Starseed.”

“I wondered when you’d get around to talking about the ‘Seed,” Elvis replied.

“Was it responsible for your talent?” Eddie asked.

Elvis slapped his knee. “Whoa now, Wildcat! Let’s not get carried away! The talent was all yours truly! My trigger event didn’t happen until I was in the Army.”

“So, what did the Starseed do for you?” Eddie asked.

“It gave me the confidence I needed to be the best version of myself,” Elvis replied. “But I had powers too, just like you. Hard to fight aliens without them, you know?”

So, Elvis’s role wasn’t merely affecting social change. It was time to address the other elephant in the room. “And EGAD? What was your role?”

“I was a full-time agent,” Elvis explained. “The tales you’ve read about my erratic behavior over the years? Cover stories. It was easier to get away from the entourage after shooting out a television set.”

“That makes sense; I guess,” Eddie replied.

Elvis traded out the wooden stool for a padded chair. “So many times, the boys in the Memphis Mafia thought I was brooding in my room upstairs at Graceland, and I’d be hundreds of miles away defending Earth from some hostile alien race. Worlds away sometimes! Director Fields had the Men in White install a Pleiadian teleportation hub in my bedroom closet. That’s why tourists aren’t allowed upstairs even now. Can’t have one of them stumble into it and end up on Mars!”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to reply to the comment. “No, of course not.” 

“And the movies,” Elvis continued. “The Colonel got roasted because my movie career interrupted my touring after the Army. The movie travel was the best cover I ever had. Having a place of my own while I served in Germany? People thought it was star treatment. But again, it was EGAD so I could get away when needed.”

“You embraced it fully then?” Eddie asked.

“Absolutely,” Elvis replied. “Funny story. That famous photo of Nixon and me? The president called me to the White House one day to discuss time travel technology the Sirians offered the United States.”

Eddie knew about Elvis and Nixon, but the official story was far more mundane. “Syria developed time travel in the 1970s?”

Elvis smiled. “Not Syria, the country. These cats were from the Sirius B star system. Dudes with blue faces! Some reporter got wind that I was meeting with Tricky Dick, so we invented the whole “Elvis meets Nixon photo-op” as a cover-up. Director Fields was a master at disinformation campaigns.”

“So, you didn’t write to Nixon asking to be deputized?” Eddie asked.

“Which is more believable, “Rock star deputized as a special agent in vanity photo-op!” or “Rock star possessed by alien entity discusses implications of time-travel with Nixon?”

Eddie weighed the implications of the spin for each headline. “I see what you mean. So how did you learn to control it? The Starseed, I mean.”

“The ‘Seed?” Elvis asked. “Man, you can’t control the Starseed! What was that movie that came out right before I died?”

“Smokey and the Bandit?” Eddie prodded.

Elvis shook his head. “No, that was the one with the sweet Firebird! I meant to get one of those for myself but never got around to it. I think I bought a ’76 model but gave it away.”

The man gave away so many cars he couldn’t remember.

“No, the one with all the spaceships and the guy with that creepy helmet and long black cape, lines wrapped around the block at the theaters all summer?” Elvis added.

“Star Wars,” said Eddie.

Elvis nodded with a smile. “Yeah, that’s the one! I wanted to see it after that last tour ended but I… well, you know, died. Anyway, back to the Starseed. It’s not like the…” Elvis snapped his fingers like he wanted to make a word appear by magic. He pointed at Eddie when it popped into his head. “The Force! It’s not like the Force in that movie.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“The Starseed affects everyone differently,” Elvis explained. “There have been great military leaders, poets, writers, gunfighters, soldiers, nurses, scientists, and others that have hosted the ‘Seed.”

“I gained a form of omniscience,” Eddie said.

“And the ability faded suddenly?” Elvis asked.

Eddie nodded.

 “That’s normal the first time,” Elvis replied. “The hosts before me referred to it as the Trigger Event. It’s meant to prepare you for your life’s mission. So what triggered it for you?”

Eddie thought about it for a moment. “I thought Frank was going to kill me.”

“Frank’s a teddy bear,” Elvis replied. “Why would he do that?”

“I stomped on his big toe during a sparring session,” Eddie admitted. He thought it best to leave out the whole Wookie nonsense since the King hadn’t seen Star Wars.

Elvis grimaced. “Bad form, man. He’s sensitive about those big feet. But fear can’t trigger the Starseed. It had to be a positive emotion.”

“Wait, it was….”

“A girl,” Elvis said with a smile.

Eddie nodded. “Not just a girl, Priscilla. The Gray were torturing her. I was five-hundred miles away and saw it all.”

“You love her,” said Elvis.

“Love?” Eddie brushed the comment aside sheepishly. “That’s not my thing, too complicated. She’s too complicated and drives me insane.” 

Elvis laughed. “Nothing complicated about it, Jack. Your love for her triggered the Starseed because she was in trouble.”

The love talk made Eddie anxious. “Love’s too strong a word.”

“A good word,” Elvis replied. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, man. I learned a lot in that crazy world down there, and there are one constant guys like us can always count on.”

“What’s that?” Eddie asked.

Elvis’s lip curled into a winsome smile. “There’s always a Priscilla, the one you can’t pry loose from your heart even if you tried. I had mine, and you have yours. The Starseed wouldn’t have triggered for her if you didn’t love her.”

There was that word again.

Eddie changed the subject. “So, what does the Starseed want with me? I’m just a loser doing an Elvis tribute show.”

Elvis smiled. “And you’re terrific, sometimes.”

Eddie appreciated the compliment until the backhand slap at the end. “What do you mean sometimes?”

“Look, man, no one can impersonate another person and be spot-on all the time,” Elvis replied. “I’m the best me that has ever lived. Even on my worst night, I was a better Elvis than anyone who has ever put on a jumpsuit to honor me. And do you know why? Because I’m the real deal! And you’re the best Eddie King this world has ever had! You do a great job with your show. I respect the passion you put into it but don’t you get tired of pretending to be me all the time?”

Eddie sighed. “I do get tired of it, no offense. But no one wants to hear Eddie sing.”

“Says who, man?” Elvis asked. “They called it caterwauling back when I started, but I had to sing because I couldn’t not sing.”

“I know that feeling,” Eddie replied.

“You’ve got to believe in yourself, man,” said Elvis. “It’s like I sang, “I did it, “My Way.”

The irony wasn’t lost on Eddie that Elvis used someone else’s song to encourage him to be himself. He was too polite to point it out, but Priscilla wouldn’t let it go. With her dry sense of humor, she’d…

 “My friends!” Eddie shouted. They were in trouble, and he was swapping stories in the Great Beyond with his idol. “I need to know what’s happening back on Earth!”

Elvis stretched his legs and locked the heel of his white, rhinestone-studded, right boot into the instep of the left. “Can’t do that. It’s against the rules.”

“What rules?” Eddie asked.

Elvis shook his head and smiled. “Hey Cat, dead is dead! You’re free from the Earthly coils that bound you.”

“I don’t want to be free of my coils, earthly or otherwise!” Eddie argued. “At least until I know my friends are okay.”

“If I can show you that they’re okay, you’ll go willingly into the afterlife?” Elvis asked.

Eddie paced the studio and considered the offer carefully. Was it a trap? After all, he didn’t know the rules of the afterlife. He always assumed death brought either immediate fire and brimstone or golden streets and pearly gates. If that dynamic was no longer in play, he was flying blind. “If they’re safe, I’ll go along quietly into my eternal reward.”

Projector screens flickered to life on either side of the stage. The reception scrambled at first. Weird colors and smoke swirled around a distorted, rolling image, but the picture steadied and cleared. Eddie saw his friends in Dulce’s infamous Level Seven. The Gray had them pinned down under heavy bombardment. 

“They’re in trouble!” Eddie yelled.

Elvis nodded. “A world of it.”

“I have to go back,” Eddie pleaded.

The action intensified as the “camera” shifted to a stairwell where even more Gray approached the one-sided battle.

Upsetting as it was to see his friends overwhelmed, something else bothered him about the scene.

Rogers darted out from behind a concrete column and fired. His blast killed a Gray, but the Director had no time to celebrate. He dived behind a fallen hydroponic tank to avoid the inevitable reciprocating attack.  

“Yes!” Eddie exclaimed with a pump of his fist. “Attaboy! Give ‘em hell, Rogers!”

Elvis cleared his throat and gestured with his eyes to the Big Guy above. “Dude! Heaven! You want the floor to heat up again?”

Eddie cowered sheepishly. “Oh yeah, sorry about the language.”

Frank unleashed his sling’s formidable energy. It destroyed a cinder block structure that straddled a trench filled with liquid. Two Gray plummeted into the liquid and cried out as the acidic goo burned them.

“Something is off,” said Eddie. “It doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Keep watching,” Elvis instructed.

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” Eddie replied.

“Give it a minute,” Elvis answered. “You’ll see it.”

Eddie spotted it. “Where are the Reptilians?”

“That keen observation was all Eddie King. No Starseed required,” said Elvis. 

Eddie turned to the King. “What are you saying?”

“The Reptilians aren’t allowed on Level Seven,” Elvis explained. “That’s why you don’t see them.”

“Why?” Eddie replied. “They’re allies of the Gray, aren’t they?”

“You tell me,” Elvis answered. “This time, look through the Starseed’s eyes.”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t have the Starseed power anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” Elvis replied. “You never lost it. You experienced what is known as the Quiet. Now give it a go.”

Eddie focused on Nightmare Hall but saw nothing beyond the obvious. “Couldn’t you just tell me what I’m looking for? This cryptic bit got old a few days ago.”

“You’re saddling the Starseed with your human limitations,” Elvis replied. “Put away the microscope and look through the telescope.”

His limited understanding was all Eddie had. “What do you mean?”

“Were you looking for Priscilla when you found her?” Elvis asked.

Eddie shook his head. “No, the Starseed opened my eyes to the universe. I saw everything.”

Elvis crossed his arms and nodded. “Exactly! The universe is a tapestry, my friend. Fixate on a single thread, and you miss the big picture. Pull back and see it all.”

Eddie retreated from the underground base and let the Starseed take him far beyond Earth’s orbit. He ventured past the solar system and the Milky Way itself to the center of the universe. It smelled like raspberries, or was it chocolate?

Earth’s sun, Sol, formed the top of a feather in a quiver of arrows strapped across the back of “Biglad the Kraven,” a constellation best viewed from the surface of Tarexa III. It was the third world of a life-giving star within the Andromeda galaxy. 

A young Gray just received word that Frank tore his brother’s arm off and that he bled to death. He swore vengeance against all Earth creatures.

The wife of a man Eddie once worked for was taking money from her husband’s warehouse employees in exchange for sex. She didn’t need the money, but her tawdry role made her feel like she was getting one over on her abusive husband. Little did she know her husband had a lover on the side, too, a prominent businessman and local politician from Gatlinburg. 

And then Eddie saw it; the secret the Gray wished to remain hidden from the Reptilians. The Gray used Reptilians in their experiments as well.

“There it is, but that’s only part of it,” Elvis smiled. “Go on. There’s more.”

Eddie’s ragtag band of EGAD associates fell back from the Gray offensive. The Gray’s numerical advantage was too much. Even Frank took cover behind a concrete column.

Eddie swept the facility level-by-level. Every single Gray was engaged in battle on Level Seven while the Reptilians patrolled the empty corridors above. Or at least every Gray but four engaged in the conflict. The four non-combatants labored to load a large device into the cargo hold of a black, triangular craft docked outside Nightmare Hall. 

Eddie focused on the mysterious device and did it have secrets to share! It was smuggled to Earth a piece at a time over the previous two decades and assembled beneath the desert sands. The scout fleet Priscilla mentioned back in her hotel room was a diversion. The Gray wanted the Pleiadian Resistance to intercept them so a single triangle could slip past elsewhere and deliver the final components to Earth.

The elements inside the device celebrated what they called “Reprogramming Day” with a grand carnival. Eddie inquired and was told the festivities honored the day the Gray learned to reprogram the quarks inside an element’s subatomic particles. The procedure allowed them to stabilize elements yet undiscovered by humankind and prevent spontaneous fission. In essence, the Gray rewrote the “DNA” of subatomic particles to use unstable elements in their experiments. It was how they developed materials like Malicium.

Eddie set up a booth at the quark carnival. The tiny particles were amazed when he guessed their atomic weights and masses. A few yokels tried to stretch the truth, but the scales didn’t lie.

Frenetic quarks that once misbehaved like unruly children at recess proved themselves good boys and girls. Their play was well-structured. Some skipped rope, reciting their hidden mysteries in iambic pentameter. An old-fashioned shuffle band sang the wonders of what humans referred to as the Higgs-Boson, the “God Particle,” on a gut bass, banjo, guitar, and a washboard.

Eddie approached an elderly “up quark” music lover who smelled of cognac and cigarettes. “Whatever will you do with all this order? To what end has your society organized in such a manner?”

The perplexed quark was so taken aback by Eddie’s question that he erupted in a coughing fit. “Don’t you know, Old Bean? We’re a genetic bomb! When we explode, all life on earth will revert to its origins as single-celled, primordial goo.”

Eddie withdrew from the celebration within the device and turned to Elvis. “I can’t let that happen! Let me save Earth!”

On the screens above, Frank unleashed a shot from his sling. He targeted a Gray who sought refuge in the hull of a discarded saucer-shaped UFO. The blast slammed into the craft’s scrapped hull but did little damage. His foe emerged and unleashed an electrical attack that dropped Frank to the ground.

“Frank!” Eddie yelled. He turned to Elvis. “They’re losing!”

Elvis looked worried himself. “They are indeed.”

“I’ve got to get back there and help them!” Eddie pleaded.

Elvis put his arm on Eddie’s shoulder. “Can’t let you do that.”

“Why?” Eddie pleaded. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be there fighting with them.”

Elvis sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re dead before it sinks in? Eddie, you’re dead.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Eddie replied. “There’s too much at stake, and….”

Elvis held up his right index finger to his lips and cocked his head as if listening to someone. Finally, he relaxed and nodded. “Will do.”

“Who was that?” Eddie asked.

“The Big Guy!” Elvis replied.

Eddie pointed straight up. “You mean…?”

Elvis nodded.  “He said there is one acceptable reason to send you back. Be true to yourself, and you may return. Lie, and you abandon Earth to its fate.”

Eddie gulped. How do you bullshit God?

“You can’t,” Elvis replied.

“You can read my mind?” Eddie asked.

Elvis pointed to the higher heavens. “I can’t, but He can. And again, watch the language.”

Frank staggered to his feet but absorbed another Gray electrical discharge and slumped to the floor a second time.

“Time’s running out, Cat!” said Elvis. “I’d skip over everything else and jump straight to the truth if I were you.”

Eddie stole one more glance at the monitor and saw Priscilla crouched behind a support column. “I love her,” he whispered.

Elvis put his hand to his ear. “What’s that? A little louder, please?”

Eddie raised his voice and repeated the three words he swore he’d never utter about any woman. “I love her, okay? I’d die a hundred times over if I can save her!”

The stage flickered away to be replaced by the Family Feud set.

Elvis pointed to the board overhead. A single, lonely black tile flipped over in the top left-hand corner. A loud “ding” accompanied it. The tile read, “He loves her!”

“Number one answer on the board! It looks like you’re a winner, champ!” said Elvis. “And great job reaching out with the Starseed to discover the bomb.”

“Was this whole setup to get me to admit my feelings?” Eddie asked.

Elvis lowered his head and gave him an “aww shucks” grin that curled into an all-too-familiar smile. “What do I know, man? I’m just an old rock and roll singer.”

The ceiling above gave way to open skies. Eddie glimpsed the blinding radiance of the other side. The accompanying hallelujah chorus nearly deafened him. Elvis floated into the ether of a grand city of gold while Eddie sank into the same cold darkness that enveloped him before the King joined him.

Down Eddie plummeted, his arms and legs flailing but unable to slow his plunge. A deep gasp of air caught in his lungs and nearly choked him. He opened his eyes and sat up on a table much like the one they rescued Priscilla from earlier. “Don’t worry! I’m alive!”

The Reptilian guards on either side of the table weren’t thrilled with his news.

Chapter Twenty-Five

T he Starseed is alive!” shouted the Reptilian closest to the door. He wore a red tunic and stood a full head shorter than his companion.

The taller Reptilian’s tunic was also red but trimmed in gold. He drew a bead on Eddie’s chest with his blaster rifle.

Eddie lifted his hands above his head. “Whoa! Easy with that thing, big fella! You could hurt someone. Namely me!”

The Reptilian poked Eddie in the chest with the barrel of his gun. “How is it possible you are alive, human?”

Having cheated death once already, Eddie felt uncharacteristically bold with a blaster pressed into his sternum.  “Human….” He rolled the word over his tongue with sanguine delight. Its sweetness tickled his palate like a warm donut. After days of questioning his humanity, he finally understood. The Starseed made him no less human. Theirs was a partnership, an alliance of two entities dedicated to the cause of peace in the universe. He pushed the blaster aside with his left hand. “Human, yeah. I suppose I am. Thanks for reminding me!”

The Reptilian guards exchanged astonished glances at Eddie’s brashness.

“Are you a fool, human?” asked the taller Reptilian. “I could slay you and be sure the job is done right this time!”

Eddie leaned on the blaster’s barrel. “I don’t think so. Apparently, I have more lives than a litter of kittens.”

The Reptilian hissed. “I’m happy to test that theory.”

“Captain, perhaps we should alert the Gray that the Starseed is reborn,” hissed the shorter Reptilian.

The Reptilian in the gold-trimmed tunic was a Captain? That was interesting news. Eddie wasn’t well-versed on military rank, but that meant one of the guards was no lackey. Did they really send a Captain to guard his lifeless body?

“You do not have permission to speak, underling!” the Captain snapped. “And when you do speak out of turn, you spout drivel! Are we not Warriors of the Below? Can we not manage a single, frail human on our own?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know, Cap. I think Kermit may be onto something. You’re in pretty deep to the Gray. Speaking of the old almond-eyes, where are they? You’d be hard-pressed to find a single one of them here on Level Six.”

The Captain lowered his weapon and turned away. “Silence, both of you.”

“Afraid of your little Gray buddies?” Eddie asked.

“Kermit” met Eddie’s gaze; the Reptilian’s eyes narrowed to now-familiar serpentine slits. He backhanded Eddie across the mouth. “We fear no one!”

“Son of a … Was that necessary?” Eddie asked. The iron-rich taste of blood filled his mouth.               

“You accused our people of cowardice,” Kermit replied.

The Captain brushed his subordinate away with a dismissive gesture like wiping breadcrumbs from a dirty table. Kermit acquiesced and snapped to attention by the door, blocking Eddie’s only escape route. 

Eddie sat up. He had to convince the Reptilians of the Gray’s duplicity. According to the Starseed, the Reptilians suffered a crippling inferiority complex. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage. “No one said you were cowards. I just meant there is much to learn from such an advanced race as the Gray.”

The Captain nibbled Eddie’s bait. “Reptilian science is every bit as advanced as that of the Gray.”

“And yet, here we are surrounded by Gray technology,” said Eddie. He made a show of looking around the room filled with Gray scientific know-how. “Face it. They’re the brains. You fellas are muscle and lackeys.”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed. He loomed so close that his hot breath blistered Eddie’s face. “We are no such thing!”

“Then why do the Gray battle my friends on Level Seven all by themselves?” Eddie asked. “Surely if the Gray respected you as warriors, they’d want you to join the battle? Does it not strike you as odd that the dirty work belonged to your people until the Level Seven breach? It’s like they’re hiding something from you down there.”

“They wouldn’t dare!” the Captain snapped. “We have a deal. This planet is ours when it is conquered.”

“Some deal,” Eddie goaded. “You govern on their behalf? You’ll still be under their thumb.”

“Our arrangement is none of your concern,” the Captain replied, whipping away from the conversation and more irritated than ever.

The alarm droned on, driving home Eddie’s point that EGAD violated Level Seven and the Reptilians were forbidden to defend it.

“Don’t you ever wonder what’s down there?” Eddie asked. “What it is they don’t want you to see? And why?”

The Captain watched a monitor on the wall behind him. “I am a soldier. I defend and protect our people and enforce our laws. I do not govern.”

Eddie arched an eyebrow and paused for effect. “I know what they’re hiding.”

The Captain whipped around and searched Eddie’s face for deceit. The bait was too tasty to ignore.

“What is down there?” Kermit asked, stepping toward Eddie.

“You are not permitted to speak!” the Captain shouted to his subordinate. “Another outburst, and I will slay you and the human too! Mate of my offspring be damned!”

Kermit stepped back. So, he was the Captain’s son-in-law? The Starseed made it all clear. The Captain volunteered to guard Eddie to keep his son-in-law out of battle at his daughter’s request. She was pregnant with their first child, but Kermit didn’t know.

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, Kermit, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Permission to question the prisoner about the name he calls me,” Kermit asked his father-in-law.

The Captain nodded.

“What is a Kermit?” asked the younger Reptilian.

“It’s the name of a fictional character on the surface world,” Eddie explained. “He’s a frog, and he is often the lone voice of reason in the world of madness that surrounds him. I thought it an apt comparison because….”

The Captain held up his hand. “That is enough, human. You have answered the question satisfactorily.”

Eddie ceded the floor.

“And what do you allege we would find on the lower level of this base, human?” the Captain asked.

The hook was in the Captain’s jaw.

Eddie drooped his legs over the table’s edge. “A collection of races, mine, yours, and hybrid creatures straight out of our most vivid nightmares, kept in cages and tortured.”

“Then that is what they deserve if they allowed themselves to be captured and debased in such a manner,” the Captain replied. “But I do not believe you. Human DNA is unfit for breeding with the universe’s superior races. Why introduce weakness into the genome of the hybrid species?”

“Perhaps a new species isn’t their end goal,” Eddie replied. “Did I mention the bomb?”

“Why should we care if they destroy your backward civilization?” the Captain shot back. “Why should a bomb worry those of us in the Below?”

“It’s a genetic bomb,” Eddie explained. “One capable of reversing eons of evolution on this planet and reverting all life to its primordial state; human, animal…Reptilian.”

The Captain laughed. “Foolish human, I told you we have a deal with the Gray!”

“So does my government,” Eddie replied, remembering the scant details Priscilla shared with him about the Eisenhower Accords. “And they’ve broken that deal many times over! What makes you think they will honor their pact with you? Join me, and we can save both our people.”

“Join you?” The Captain laughed. “Based on an elaborate fairy tale?”

Eddie felt the tides shifting. “Our people don’t have to be friendly, but we share the same vested interest in this mudball.”

“You lie, human!” the Captain replied.

“But what if I’m not lying?” Eddie asked. “If you’re correct, the Gray leaves you a world to govern on their behalf. If I’m right, they destroy all life on this planet. Are you willing to take that chance?”

The Captain froze, and the line went taut in his mouth. Eddie jerked back on the fishing pole. 

“Sir, if I may…,” said Kermit.

“No, you may not!” the Captain shouted, baring his fangs at his subordinate. He pointed his blaster rifle at Eddie again. “The Gray left us a dead Starseed to guard! We lose nothing if that Starseed is still very much dead when they return!”

Despite his earlier bravado staring down the blaster, Eddie didn’t want to be shot again. He was confident in his return to the land of the living, but blaster fire hurt like hell. He prayed it would be quick, like his previous death.

The unmistakable whine of a blaster whirred to life. Eddie closed his eyes and braced for the inevitable. Blaster fire split the air. A body crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud. The stench of burnt flesh filled the room.

Eddie opened his eyes and expected to see Elvis again. “Kermit?”

Kermit’s trembling hand still gripped his glowing weapon. Its bright orange tip faded to warm pink.

The Captain lay dead on the floor.

“You killed him,” said Eddie, astonished at the turn of events. Eddie appreciated Kermit’s sudden, unexpected support of his breathing habit, but he needed the Captain’s blessing, not that of an underling. The subordinate Reptilian’s rash action cut the line just as Eddie was reeling in the bigger fish.

Kermit strapped his blaster to his back. “I did what was necessary to protect my people.”

Eddie was thankful for the reprieve from execution but was confused. “He was your father-in-law.”

Kermit moved to the door and motioned for Eddie to follow. Eddie hopped down from the exam table and fell in behind his Reptilian rescuer.

“It is the way of our people,” Kermit explained. “Humans are predisposed to assure the survival of self; fight or flight, your scientists call it. Our biological impulses compel us to defend the species at all costs. For too long, certain of my people have felt that the Gray treat us as inferiors and stand poised to betray us. Your words aligned with those suspicions.” 

“Thank you for trusting me,” said Eddie. He reached for the fallen Captain’s blaster rifle.

Kermit trained his blaster on Eddie. “I didn’t say I trust you. No blaster.”

Eddie backed away from the weapon. “Okay, easy. If anyone understands trust issues, it’s me. But you believe me about the Gray?”

Kermit looked back at the examination table. “Do humans make a habit of returning from the dead?”

“No,” Eddie replied.

“The Starseed saw fit to revive you,” Kermit replied. “There must be a reason for it. That is a sufficient sign for me that the time has come.”

“The time has come for what?” Eddie asked.

Kermit poked his head out the door and scanned the corridor carefully. “My people’s political divisions are not your concern, human.”

Political discord within the Reptilian community over their relationship with the Gray? Eddie vowed to learn more. “We can’t do this alone.”

Kermit stepped into the hallway.

Eddie followed.

“We won’t have to,” Kermit replied. “Let’s move!”

Eddie found it hard to keep up with the Reptilian as they raced through the empty Sixth Level. They encountered a couple of Kermit’s brethren patrolling an assigned corridor. They were shocked to see one of their own escorting the Starseed through the base. They drew their blasters, but Kermit waved for them to lower their weapons.

“What are you doing with the dead human host?” one guard hissed. “We have our orders! This is treason!”

Eddie waved over Kermit’s shoulder. “For the record, not dead!”

Kermit ignored the accusation of treason levied against him and turned to the second guard. “The Gray betray us! It is time!”

The second guard nodded and shot his fellow sentry. 

“Follow me,” said Kermit. He raced through the maze of corridors with Eddie and the other guard on his heels.

“I’m Eddie,” he said to their new ally. 

“My name is unpronounceable in your tongue-locked language,” the Reptilian replied. “And I don’t like you.”

“Then I’ll just call you Smiley,” Eddie answered. “Hey, Kermit! Where are we headed in such a hurry?”

“Into the mountain,” Kermit replied over his shoulder.

Eddie wasn’t sure what Kermit was up to, but he wasn’t firing a blaster at his head, which was already a vast improvement over his previous run-ins with Reptilians. “The mountain” sounded ominous, but what choice did he have but to follow?

The trio picked up a small contingent of allies along the way. With each encounter, the Reptilian body count increased as quickly as the growing number of confederates joining the rebellion. It was the old way versus the new, and the latter possessed the element of surprise.

Vive la révolution!

Kermit led the team to the installation’s northern corner and made a sharp left turn behind an opening in the concrete wall where two massive slabs of cement failed to meet at a seam. A cavern opened behind the gash, and they ventured beneath the Archuleta Mesa itself.

To call the underworld passage a cavern was to embellish the truth. It was little more than a dimly lit maze of Reptilian-made incisions hollowed into solid rock. The path was barely large enough for the Reptilians to squeeze through, but they ignored the sharp sandstone protrusions that scraped their armored hides and scurried through the claustrophobic network without slowing their pace. The porous projections were broken-off and worn smooth from repeated violent collisions with fast-moving denizens of the Below.

Possessing a smaller frame, Eddie navigated the tunnels with ease but was in no shape to match the Reptilian’s frantic pace. He found himself swept along in a tsunami of their physical superiority.

When Eddie feared he’d drop from exhaustion, torchlight flickered ahead. His burning lungs welcomed the shimmering glow. The narrow tunnel blossomed into a massive cavern that concealed an underground village.

Buildings were carved into the sandstone like the ruins of a lost civilization. The dwellings were small, a few hundred square feet each. They surrounded a larger building at the center of a public square.

The square was partitioned from the village by two bowed, stone walls separated by a waist-high gate. Megalith-like stones, about twelve feet tall, stood on either side of the gate. They were joined together by a lintel slab that stretched across the top between them.

A cistern marked the middle of the square. There, a group of Reptilian leaders engaged in heated debate. A crowd of spectators stood behind the stone walls and observed.

Eddie counted twenty-one Reptilians seated seven wide and three-deep around the cistern. The Starseed revealed that they were members of the local Sacred Council. The councilors wore different color tunics with white hoods.

Red, vertical stripes of varying thickness ran from front to back down the middle of their hoods. Those seated on the front row wore the hoods marked with the thickest designation. The stripes thinned in rank behind them.

One councilor stood at the center and faced his colleagues. His hood and tunic were solid red. The councilors possessed darker green scales than Kermit and his allies and appeared much older.

The assembly gasped when Eddie stormed in behind Kermit.

The Reptilian in solid red whipped his head around to understand why his assembly was suddenly aghast. He shook his cane at Kermit. “What is the meaning of this outrage? This human filth defiles the sanctity of our Holy Conclave! Not even the Gray are allowed in the Below!”

“Where is your Captain, underling?” demanded another councilor in a green tunic. 

Kermit held up his hands to quieten the crowd’s indignation, but the effort was futile. They were too incensed by the presence of a human in their midst to be quelled by simple gestures.

The Reptilian soldiers with Kermit huddled around Eddie to protect him. Their action at least begged an explanation.

“Where is your Captain?” asked the elderly Reptilian adorned in red.

Kermit dropped to one knee and placed his right fist on his chest. “It grieves me to report that the Captain is dead, Lord Councilor.”

An audible gasp electrified the room.

A councilor in a yellow tunic stood and shook his fist. “Did this vile, lowly human slay him?”

Kermit stood. “No, Lord Councilor. I killed him.”

An even louder gasp circulated throughout the chamber. Reptilians in the galley behind the rock wall pressed through the gate.

The Lord Councilor raised his worn cane into the air. It was a simple walking stick but commanded uncanny authority. “Mind the gate, brethren! Strange though these events may be, we must not abandon our traditions!”

According to the Starseed, only the Counsel was allowed beyond the stone walls during Conclave. Eddie was just thankful the Lord Councilor called off the mob.  

The Lord Councilor turned again to Kermit. “Perhaps you should explain. And for the sake of your life, it had better be good.”

Kermit stepped forward. He didn’t seem rattled, but Eddie was no expert on Reptilian body language. “Thank you, Lord Councilor. This human hosts the Starseed and has news so compelling, so disturbing, our Conclave must weigh the gravity of it. The Captain would see the human dead rather than allow us that opportunity.”

“I thought the Starseed was dead?” the Lord Councilor pried.

Eddie shook his head. “I got over it.”

“You returned from the Glorious Darkness?” the Lord Councilor asked.

Eddie nodded. “I did.”

The pronouncement rattled the gathering. Astonished murmurs swept through the crowd.

The Lord Councilor raised his cane again. “Let order be restored!”

Eddie was amazed at how quickly the assembly complied.

“Speak, human,” the Lord Councilor demanded.

Eddie cleared his throat and eyed the skeptical audience. Definitely a tougher crowd than the Time Capsule. Scant hours before, the very sight of a single Reptilian terrified him. But he stood in the heart of their dominion, surrounded on every side by their warriors, and felt no fear.  “My name is Eddie King. I am the current host of the Elvis Presley Starseed. I bring disturbing news about what the Gray keeps from you on Level Seven.”

“You’ve been to Level Seven?” someone shouted from the crowd.

The crowd mostly jeered, but some listened with bated breath.

The Starseed revealed to Eddie that Level Seven was the source of the political divide in the Reptilian population that Kermit alluded to earlier. Rumors circulated for years that the Gray hid dark secrets in the forbidden stronghold.

A majority of the population deeply distrusted the Gray and encouraged the Council to break from them. Few among the ruling elite agreed, as their relationship with the Gray benefited them directly. They dismissed the very notion of impropriety on the part of the Gray as a baseless conspiracy theory. They ridiculed the “weak-willed” among them who believed such nonsense. Both sides accused the other of using the legend to divide their people.

The Lord Councilor waived off the chinwags and chatterboxes but appeared eager for an answer to the galley’s question. “Answer human, but proceed with caution! The price of a lie will be your life! Have you visited Level Seven?”

“Yes and no,” Eddie answered. “One of my EGAD colleagues sought cover there by accident while trying to escape from the Gray. The atrocities she witnessed shook her to the core, but  I didn’t see them for myself until I died.”

The Lord Councilor’s eyes widened with interest. “And the Starseed returned you to life?”

Eddie nodded. “The Starseed and I are one.” He wasn’t sure why he said it that way, but it sounded more resolute than a simple “yes.”

“Go on,” the Lord Councilor replied.

“I explored the level in an out-of-body state,” Eddie continued. “There are Reptilians enslaved below as well as human and hybrid creatures.”

A buzz among the crowd rose to a furious crescendo.  

The Lord Councilor tapped his cane against the rock wall before him. “Order! I demand order!”

The assembly was too consumed with weighing the Gray’s possible betrayal to heed the pattering of the aged Lord Councilor’s cane against the rock.

Kermit removed his weapon from his back and fired it into the air. The crowd quickly shushed.

Eddie looked to his new ally and nodded his gratefulness. Kermit didn’t reply.

“Your enslaved brethren are exploited for genetic engineering,” Eddie continued. “The Gray mingle Reptilian blood with that of other species… including human.”

The idea of tainting Reptilian blood with human fluid was more than the assembly could bear. They erupted with contempt and outright anger. Their shocked bigotry was the reaction Eddie hoped to exploit.

The Lord Councilor was more measured than his constituents, a wise politician. “We’re aware of the genetic engineering that takes place on Level Seven, but our people are exempt. We have a treaty.”             

Eddie nodded. “As do we.”

“Even if you speak the truth, the possibility exists that the explanation is benign,” said a councilor in a violet tunic. “For example, perhaps the Gray perfect their bodies to withstand the sickness and disease native to our planet before they entrust it to us.”

The Council was entrenched to defend their Gray allies. 

“The Gray has broken one tenet of your treaty already,” Eddie replied. “They have taken your people and experimented on them. What makes you believe they will honor any part of it?”

The Lord Councilor pointed an accusatory finger. “Mind your tongue, human, or I will cut it out myself!”

Kermit nudged Eddie toward the seated councilors. “Now would be a good time to mention the bomb.”

Eddie peeked over his shoulder at Kermit. “It does seem I’m losing them.”

“Your human penchant for building drama evokes boredom,” said Kermit. “Be quick with the facts when addressing my people.”

Eddie turned back to the Lord Councilor. “Then allow me to fast forward to the good part.”

“I do wish you would,” the Lord Councilor replied.

Eddie flashed back to public debate class in community college. He locked eyes with the crowd and then the Lord Councilor. “There’s a bomb.”

“No doubt to wipe out all human life on Earth?” the Lord Councilor asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Not just human life. All intelligent life on the planet will devolve to a primordial state.”

“Genetic bombs are illegal throughout the cosmos,” the Lord Councilor replied.

“But if you employ such a device against your enemies, who is left to argue the legalities?” Eddie replied.

The Lord Councilor pondered Eddie’s argument while his companions discussed the matter amongst themselves. 

Kermit stepped forward. “I will lead a company into Level Seven and investigate the Starseed’s claims.”

“And break our treaty with the Gray?” asked a councilor in a blue tunic.

“With all due respect Lord Councilor, the threat is such that we cannot ignore,” said Kermit. “We must know the truth. If the Starseed lies, I will slay him myself. If he speaks the truth, then we finally have an answer to questions that have lingered among us for generations.”

The Lord Councilor held up his cane. “Yours isn’t to propose or debate policy, underling.”

Kermit dropped to a knee, as did his companions, leaving Eddie standing alone in their midst. He knelt out of deference once he realized he stood alone.

A heated debate ensued among the Council. Though the Starseed enabled fluency in the Reptilian native tongue, it was hard to follow the cacophony with so many speaking at once. 

“It was wise of you to kneel,” Kermit half-whispered.

“How long do we have to stay like this?” Eddie asked. “My knee is resting on a rock.”

“Until they reach consensus,” Kermit replied.

Eddie wasn’t sure his knee could take much more. “Hey, Kermit.”

“Yes, human?” Kermit replied.

“Whatever they decide, thanks,” said Eddie.

Kermit didn’t reply, but Eddie wanted to imagine the creature took some pleasure in his heartfelt acknowledgment of gratitude.

The Lord Councilor raised his cane. A tense hush fell over the room. “We have reached a consensus! We shall make no move against our allies, the Gray! Furthermore, the human will face execution for violating the sanctity of our Conclave! Those who delivered him into the Below will suffer death beside him! It is decreed!”

“And so shall it be!” his cohorts behind him replied in chorus.

“The Sacred Guard will dispose of the intruders!” the Lord Councilor stated as casually as one would order fast food at a drive-through window.

Eddie jumped to his feet. “What? Are you out of your freakin’ minds? You’ve doomed your people and mine!”

Kermit stood and grabbed Eddie’s shoulder. “It is not permissible to speak to the Lord Councilor in such a manner. I may die as a result of my actions here today, but I will defend the Council with my last breath.”               “At the cost of everyone you love?” Eddie shouted back.

Kermit’s eye sockets arched like brows. “We Reptilians do not “love” as humans understand it. Our passion is primarily for the ways and traditions of our people. The Lord Councilor has spoken. Accept your fate and embrace an honorable death.”

A Sergeant-at-Arms stepped forward with his court and arrested Eddie, Kermit, and their cohorts. They twisted Eddie’s arms behind his back and strapped them together with cuffs that emitted a low-level laser around their circumference. The harder Eddie struggled, the more intensely the cuffs burned his wrists. 

“Kermit, we can’t let them get away with this!” Eddie pleaded as he dodged and weaved to catch a glimpse of his Reptilian cohort.  “You were on my side before!”

“And that decision cost me… cost us all, our lives,” Kermit replied. He craned his stubby neck toward his condemned brethren. “You will die among us with honors, Starseed Eddie King.”

“Like hell, I will!” said Eddie. “You curl up and die if you want to, but I’m going to fight my way out!”

“And I will stop you,” Kermit replied as the Sacred Guard handcuffed his wrists. “Or you can kill me, but one of us will die. It is the way of my people that the Conclave’s proclamation is final.”

Two guardsmen grabbed Eddie. He struggled, but they were exceptionally powerful. He kicked and thrashed, but his human efforts proved ineffective. He spotted Kermit through the sea of bodies between them. “Did anyone ever tell you that your people’s way sucks ass?”

The Sacred Guard half-pushed and half-dragged Eddie from the hall. They led him back through the narrow tunnel toward Dulce Base.

“Where is your pride?” Eddie asked anyone and everyone within earshot. “You will roll over like dogs and let the Gray turn your brains into soup? I hope I come back as a virus and destroy every single one of your single-celled asses!”

“Keep moving!” barked the Guardsman shoving him along the path.

“Why not just kill me here?” Eddie asked.

No one replied at first, but Kermit finally spoke up. “The Below is sacred ground. None are slain here. The Sacred Guard will escort us to the execution chamber in the Gray facility and kill us there.”

“You know I’m just going to come back again, right?” Eddie asked.

The Guard pushed him again. “How fortuitous for our entertainment, Starseed. We will hunt you down and kill you again!”

“Then I’ll return again and….” Eddie argued.

Kermit growled or hissed; it was difficult to determine which, but the low guttural curdle in his throat was a stern warning. “Starseed, please cease your prattle! One’s death is a matter of pride in our culture.”

Eddie saw the glow of the Dulce installation beyond the cement wall in the distance. He slowed his gait as if a grand scheme would pop into his head in the twenty or so steps until they reached the base. His soon-to-be executioner shoved him in the back. Eddie pinballed off the cement wall and into the imposing base.

The Sacred Guard joined the condemned in the empty corridor.

Kermit and his Reptilian cohorts lined up in the hallway in a single file to await their inglorious ends.

“Here in the hallway?” Eddie asked. “What about the Execution Chamber?”

A Sacred Guardsman whipped Eddie around roughly and lined him up with the others. “Do all humans talk this much?”

“The Starseed is the only specimen of the species I’ve encountered in a non-combative setting. Perhaps the Starseed is but a poor sample of humanity?” Kermit replied.

“Why would you say that?” Eddie shrieked. “I’m a fine… well, I’m an okay specimen of humanity!”

Kermit nodded to the inquisitive Guardsman. “Be quick and resolute in what you must do!”

The Guardsman nodded and removed Kermit’s cuffs.

“Wait… you’re not going to kill us?” Eddie asked.

The Guardsman stepped down the line and removed the cuffs from each of the condemned. He poked a blaster pistol into Eddie’s chest. “Are you sure the human is necessary to the plan? I would much rather just shoot him.”

Kermit lowered the Guardsman’s blaster. “The Starseed may yet prove useful.”

The disappointed Guardsman removed Eddie’s cuffs. “So, what now?”

“We save the world,” Eddie replied.

Chapter Twenty-Six

E ddie trailed Kermit through the honeycomb corridors of Dulce’s Sixth Level. The intrepid Reptilian knew the labyrinth well from his service to the Gray. He and some of the younger Reptilians were determined to change that power dynamic. Their fledgling Resistance gathered numbers and strength along the way. They executed those who refused to join their disparate band.

Kermit led the revolutionaries to the door where Eddie was slain. The massive slab was blown open, most likely by Frank’s sling.

The ardent Reptilians stormed into the gaping maw, but Eddie pulled up short.

Kermit paused in the doorway while his zealous compatriots filed past him. “Your blood runs cold at the site of your demise, Starseed?”

Eddie gulped an icy breath. “It does.”

“Yet it races through your veins once more, no?” Kermit asked.

Eddie nodded. “I’m alive again if that’s what you mean.”

“Then this place should fill you with great courage,” Kermit replied. “Come.”

Eddie found the Reptilian ways cold and impersonal, but Kermit’s plain-spoken, spartan philosophy wasn’t without merit. “Lead the way, my friend.”

Kermit didn’t correct Eddie’s usage of the term “friend.” It was hardly a wholesale endorsement of such a relationship, but even baby steps were coveted mile-markers on the road to peace.

The Reptilian rushed into the room with Eddie on his heels. A hefty, old-fashioned computer console lay overturned along the back wall. Definitely Frank’s handiwork.

A doorway behind the toppled behemoth opened onto a stairwell. Two Reptilians battled a Gray there while their cohorts stormed the pale, blue glow emanating from below.

The Gray’s telekinesis proved a powerful defense. He latched onto a computer console in the outer room and slammed it into one of his foes. Though not as large as its overturned counterpart, the bulky machine was sufficient to stagger the unsuspecting Reptilian. The Gray followed up the sneaky attack with a blast of his deadly current. His addled opponent dropped to the ground and flailed until white foam gurgled from his mouth. A final dying gasp erupted from his lungs, and he expired.  

The second Reptilian blasted the Gray with his weapon. The deadly beam sliced through the diminutive alien’s oversize skull, and he too fell.

The victorious Reptilian knelt by his deceased ally and bowed his head. The somber warrior’s left arm crossed over his chest. He struck his heart three times with his fist. “And thus, I honor your journey. Depart in peace, Great Warrior.” He stood slowly and lowered his blaster. A bright flash from his weapon vaporized the fallen.

“What the hell?” Eddie asked.

“It is the way of our people,” Kermit explained. “The essence cannot complete its final journey until set free from the lifeless shell. The Final Passage that you witnessed releases the life force to pass from this world to the next. In this way, no defender of the Below returns to their clan broken in battle. Instead, we laud them as heroes and celebrate their exploits at the Passing Ceremony. The Final Passage takes place at a battle’s conclusion after the gathering of the bodies. However, these two were Life Mates. He couldn’t bear for another to see his esteemed in such a state.”

Eddie witnessed several Reptilian deaths since he learned of their existence. Given their aggressive behavior and seeming disregard for their own, he assumed them incapable of grief. Truth be told, he was often too busy trying to stay alive to contemplate the finer details of their burial customs. But the act he witnessed convinced him there was more to the species than their scaly, armored hides and bellicose demeanor. Kermit explained to him previously that Reptilians didn’t experience love in the same way as humans. However, the pain on the grieving warrior’s face said otherwise.  

Eddie descended into the bowels of Dulce’s infamous Seventh Level, known as Nightmare Hall. Blaster fire echoed in the distance. The heavy fighting meant that at least some of his friends remained alive to resist the Gray. At the bottom of the stairs, he huddled the Reptilian cavalry around him. “The Gray remains ignorant of our presence here. When we get to the….”

Even in Nightmare Hall’s soft, blue glimmer, Eddie recognized the shadowy being that appeared from seemingly nowhere and interrupted his powwow. “Luther! You’re back!”

“I can make another jump now,” said Luther. “We should be able to… Are those Reptilians?” Dark energy erupted from the wraith’s hands and swirled around him. He shaped the angry billows like a potter working soft clay. The dark blob took on the form of a shadowy lion, poised to attack. 

Eddie begged off the attack with an outstretched hand. “It’s a long story, my friend. But they’re on our side.”

“Stand down, shadowy one!” Kermit hissed. He lowered his weapon to show he meant no harm. “We fight a mutual enemy as allies!”

Eddie placed a hand on Luther’s shoulder. “I know it’s confusing, but they really are on our side.” 

The feline shadow-construct dissipated into black vapor. “If you say so, but I don’t like it.”

“Nor do we,” Kermit replied. “But this is our planet too, and we will fight for it.”

Convinced the drama had passed, Eddie gestured for everyone to follow him. “Let’s move out!”

“You were about to share a plan with us?” Kermit asked.

Eddie was tired of waiting around. “Shoot anything that’s gray and has a head shaped like a guitar pick.”

“I could teleport some of you ahead.” Luther volunteered. “Who knows what lies between here and the battle lines?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, we need you at full strength to evacuate the wounded. Jump ahead. If everyone is okay, then help them fight.”

Luther disappeared into the other dimension like he was never there. Eddie and the Reptilians weaved through gutted ship hulls and discarded engine casings. They passed a wall that divided the salvage yard from the remainder of the facility. Just beyond the structure, they stumbled across four Gray loading the bomb into the hold of a triangular craft waiting by the hangar doors. They were fortunate the Gray had their backs to them and that the distant battle drowned out their approach.

Eddie hunkered behind a cinder block wall spanning a trench of foul-smelling liquid. A Reptilian crouched next to him. They watched the Gray intently.

The bomb was roughly the size of a small automobile and wide as the loading ramp, which made it awkward for the Gray to maneuver, even with the aid of an anti-gravity lift. Eddie and his new allies could not allow the device onto the spaceship.

Violence was inevitable, but it was also imperative to avoid hitting the bomb with errant blaster fire, or nothing else they did would matter. They needed a shot that would scramble the Gray but not strike the device.

At last, the opportunity presented itself when one of the Gray moved toward a workbench. Eddie nodded to Kermit, who sheltered behind a concrete column. His Reptilian cohort blasted a hole through the unsuspecting Gray. The alien fell dead. His companions scrambled for cover.

The Gray blanketed the hangar with electricity, dispelling any notion of a quick surrender. The Reptilian next to Eddie stood and fired back. His stray blast struck the spacecraft but did no damage to its Malicium-infused hull. The Reptilian wasn’t so fortunate. An electrical surge struck him in the chest. He fell dead at Eddie’s feet. Eddie commandeered his blaster rifle.

Two Gray huddled behind shipping crates and continued their assault with bioelectrogenic flares. The third braved the blaster fire and steered the bomb to safety beneath the black triangle’s boarding ramp. The Gray, too, recognized the importance of protecting the bomb from stray laser fire.

A blast exploded against the ship’s hull in front of the Gray that guided the anti-grav lift. The close call unnerved combatants on both sides of the altercation. The conflict ground to a brief halt while the lone Gray secured the bomb beneath the ship’s belly. He emerged and raced toward his companions.

Nature blessed the Gray with many biological advantages over most species. Running wasn’t one of them. He was struck by blaster fire almost immediately. 

Eddie spotted one of the remaining Gray sneaking up on Kermit’s position behind the column. Kermit was unaware of the approaching danger. Current danced on the creature’s long, spindly fingertips as he raised his hands to attack.

Eddie blasted the alien, and the creature’s lightning fizzled before he hit the ground. From his cover behind the column, Kermit nodded his appreciation. Whatever trepidation he harbored about Eddie having a blaster was long gone. 

One Gray remained. Silence fell upon the hangar as the hunt for him got underway. He was somewhere among the shipping crates, but his small stature made it easy for him to hide.

Kermit directed some of his warriors to flank the lone Gray’s last known position. Five of their number broke ranks and circled toward the front of the triangular craft. It was a fatal miscalculation.

The crafty Gray spotted them. He abandoned his bioelectrogenic attack strategy and weaponized the debris from the nearby salvage yard via telekinesis. Everything from loose nuts and bolts to discarded landing gear shot through the opening in the wall with such force that even the Reptilians’ armored hides were no match for the onslaught.

The projectiles tore through the three Reptilians that lead the charge. A fourth ducked behind a large crate but was decapitated by a gear from an engine casing when he emerged to fire his blaster. The fifth Reptilian in the doomed flank was the only one to survive the failed maneuver. 

Eddie heard a noise behind him and whipped around. An old, muddy mop levitated from a bucket of filthy water. It broke clean near the sloppy, stringy yarns, and they splashed back into the liquid muck. The mop handle split into two pieces and swung like nunchaku in the hands of an invisible ninja.

The spirited escrima whirled in a figure-eight pattern. One hurled toward Eddie, but he dodged the attack. The wooden baton buried itself in the wall behind him then pulled free from a shattered cinder block. It rejoined its mate for another strike. They rotated like helicopter blades and launched high into the air.

The Gray brought the weapon down in a vertical swipe at Eddie’s head, but the Starseed’s force field splintered the wooden batons into shards in mid-arc. Eddie hated the Gray’s telekinesis as badly as he did their bioelectrogenic attacks. 

The Gray holdout slipped out of hiding and raced for cover behind the black triangle’s boarding ramp. Kermit blasted him in the back. The Gray’s face froze in a death stare, but his final act was his deadliest; he activated the bomb’s firing sequence via telekinesis.

Humanity’s doom whirred to life.

“They’ve activated the bomb!” Eddie shouted.

Kermit recoiled in horror. “Then we have failed!”

Eddie pointed to the device. “Not yet, we haven’t! Try to defuse it! I’ll lead your troops ahead if they will follow me!”

Kermit looked unsure, but the bomb provided the urgency he needed to nod his approval. “They will surrender their lives if necessary. But I’ll keep a few members of the Science Guild here with me to deal with the bomb.”

Eddie led the unlikely charge from the hangar into the chaotic battle chamber. Small fires filled the air with heavy, undulating smoke that made it difficult to breathe and obscured large swaths of the battlefield.

A brick building that once stood in the back corner was a total loss. It looked as if it were bombed out in an air raid. The back walls remained fully intact because they were anchored into the base’s concrete structure. The free-standing front and side walls were crumpled. Sporadic sections of aged brick remained intact.

Shattered gestation pods were strewn everywhere. A few remained, standing defiantly like the weathered hoodoo of the southwest slot canyons. Some of those that littered the floor were surprisingly intact due to their thick glass containers and steel frames, but most were as broken as the inhabitants they once nursed.

Twisted metal, chunks of concrete, and crumbled brick littered the cavernous hall. Stray blaster fire and the Gray’s bio-lightning flashed through the shifting ripples in the fetid, black smoke. It was like standing in an angry storm cloud.

The Reptilian warriors proved their mettle immediately. They charged into the teeth of the battle and opened fire on the unsuspecting Gray, who suddenly found themselves sandwiched between entrenched EGAD forces and fresh, incoming Reptilian revolutionaries. The Reptilian incursion quickly turned the battle, their savagery far easier to admire with the Gray on the receiving end.

“Brace yourselves!” Rogers shouted over the fray to his EGAD agents. It was impossible to pinpoint his location among the chaos. “The Reptilians have joined the battle! If we go down, we go down fighting!”

“The Reptilians are with me!” a frantic Eddie yelled as he ran to the front of the Reptilian line. A stray blast forced him to squat behind one of the massive concrete footings supporting the ceiling columns. He poked his head around the thick column to survey the battlefield. His Reptilian charges fanned out across the cavernous facility. They were well-trained.

Priscilla’s head shot up from behind an overturned gestation chamber. “Eddie? You’re alive!”

Blaster fire forced her to duck.

“Stay down!” Eddie shouted. “Yes, but don’t shoot the Reptilians! They’re on our side now!”

Rogers popped up from behind the same gestation chamber and shot a Gray. “How in the hell did you convince them to do that?”                            A Gray jumped on Eddie’s back and wrestled him to the floor before he could reply. The alien’s hands glowed white-hot. The Starseed immediately erected a shield around him to protect him from the imminent electrical attack.  

“I didn’t think you cockroaches were supposed to be so violent,” Eddie grunted.

Not only was it violent but surprisingly strong for such a small creature. Its low center of gravity made it difficult to pry loose. “You cannot prevail, human! Your world is lost!”

And there, in the heat of battle, the Starseed requested Eddie’s unconditional trust. The voice wasn’t audible, but its delicate whisper tickled the same space at the front of his brain that it enlightened when it triggered the first time.

Eddie wasn’t sure what the entity had in mind, but it never communicated to him in such a manner previously. The Trigger Event laid bare the cosmos, but it was overwhelming; traumatic even, like standing in a ship’s foghorn and listening for a single, gentle raindrop falling on its bow. This request was far more personal, hauntingly intimate.

And what choice did Eddie have but to listen? His thrashing about did nothing to extricate the Gray from his back. If the Starseed was able to liberate him of the pest, he was game.

The moment he surrendered to the Starseed, his body ignited in flames. He became a human inferno, a literal burning man. The creature on his back shrieked in agony and was reduced to ash almost instantly. Its powdery cinders scattered on the drafty exhaust that circulated fresh air through Nightmare Hall.

A sizable chunk of concrete floor exploded about twenty-five feet to Eddie’s left. The Gray were hurled through the air like they stepped on a landmine. It was Frank’s sling. “Frank! You’re alive!”

“I’m not the one who died!” Frank replied. After watching the Sasquatch fall earlier, it was good to see his grouchy ass back in the fight. He readied his sling for another blast from the vortex. “Are you on fire?”

Eddie snuffed the flames and was relieved the Starseed’s protective aura prevented his clothes from burning away. He darted across the battlefield toward the fallen gestation chamber where Priscilla and Rogers were ensconced, racing bursts of lightning with each frantic stride. He assumed the Starseed’s force field would protect him but wasn’t keen to test the theory.

At the last moment, he dived behind the chamber’s metal frame and nearly kicked Rogers in the head as he slid down the glass on the other side. He found himself face-to-face with a hybrid embryo floating in the amber liquid inside the metal and glass drum.

“Eddie!” Priscilla cried. She laid aside her blaster and leaped into his arms. “I thought I lost you!”

The kiss that followed wasn’t the lustful lip-lock of raunchy sex with a stranger but sweet and tender; the kind felt to the depths of one’s soul. Dehydration left Priscilla’s lips badly chapped, and she reeked of day-old vomit, but the kiss was sweeter than the finest wine.

The intoxicating moment left Eddie’s head spinning. He pulled Priscilla close and traced the small of her back, not driven by wanton sensuality but his burning desire to commit to memory her every gentle curve. For one brief moment, the universe personified in his arms.  

She was more than his world; she was the essence of his all.

Priscilla broke their kiss and slapped him. “I thought you were dead!”

“I got over it,” Eddie replied. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.  

Priscilla pulled away and slapped him a second time. “That makes no sense! What do you mean you “got over it?”

Eddie cradled her face in his hands and planted a third kiss on her lips. “It was you, Priscilla! You brought me back!”

Priscilla’s face contorted. “How? Dead is dead.”

The phrase stirred memories of Eddie’s conversation with Elvis. He thought about spilling it all; the Between, Sun Records, the King, God. But he wanted to avoid a padded cell if they survived. “Just hear me out, okay? I love you!  That’s what brought me back. You can act indifferent and pretend love is beneath you if you want, but I learned the true meaning of heaven and hell when I died. My heaven is wherever you are, and hell is any place without you.”

“You two realize we’re fighting for our lives, right?” Rogers asked. “I mean, far be it for me to deny true love its grand gestures, but any help you might add to the cause of keeping us alive would be greatly appreciated. You know, a stray shot here, some Starseed voodoo there. Anything to demonstrate even mild investment in saving the planet.”

Priscilla lifted her hand to strike again, but Eddie caught it. She grabbed Eddie by the collar with her free hand and pulled him in for their first kiss as one. Whatever her emotional hangups, the kiss spoke her heart.

When their lips parted, they leaned into one another with their foreheads touching. They locked eyes, and Priscilla smiled. “Hey, you.”

“Hey back,” Eddie replied. His hand stroked Priscilla’s cheek.

“Or you can make a baby right here,” Rogers added. “Just pretend I’m over there somewhere fighting for my life. Go ahead and make like a couple of rabbits or whatever it is you’re going to do.”

Priscilla grabbed her blaster again. “What now?”

“Happily ever after?” Eddie asked.

“About the battle, I mean. We’re kind of up the proverbial Shit Creek,” Priscilla replied. She cast a thumb over the gestation chamber toward the intense fighting. “This may be the shortest courtship ever.”

“So we’re courting now?” Eddie asked.

Priscilla retreated into her shell. “I mean, only if you want to....”

Eddie leaned in for another kiss, but Rogers threw his hand between their lips. The lovers planted healthy smooches on either side of the Director’s fleshy appendage; Priscilla smooched the sweaty palm and Eddie, the hairy back. They pulled away and wiped their lips. Eddie regretted that he used tongue.

“Well, that was disgusting!” Priscilla spat.

Rogers wiped his hand. “It was no picnic for me either. I think I’d prefer blaster fire.”

Eddie shook his head. “Trust me when I say you wouldn’t. And really? You can’t give us this?”

Rogers whirled a finger in the air like a lasso. “Hurray for love, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Shit, I forgot about the bomb!” Eddie yelped. “It’ll detonate soon!”

Rogers stood to fire at the Gray but lowered his weapon and took a seat at the mention of the explosive device. “Bomb? What bomb?”

Eddie pointed toward the hangar. “One capable of rewriting the genetic code of all life on earth! They’re going to turn us to goo!”

“A genetic bomb,” Rogers replied. “Galactic law means nothing to those arrogant bastards! You should have led with that instead of, you know, sucking face.”

Eddie took Priscilla’s hand. “I got distracted.”

“Unbelievable,” Rogers replied.

Priscilla fired her weapon then ducked back to safety. “And the invasion?”

Eddie tossed his blaster aside. Rings of fire erupted around his hands. He stood and hurled the fiery blasts at the Gray before returning to safety behind the overturned pod. “The invasion was a ruse. The bomb was their play all along, to capture the planet without a prolonged war. The recent increase in Gray activity was them smuggling the bomb components to Earth piece-by-piece to assemble them here.”

“But the fleet the Nordic Resistance encountered…” said Priscilla.

Eddie shook his head. “A distraction, nothing more.”

Kermit unexpectedly dived behind the gestation chamber and plopped next to Eddie. “Were you mating with this female during battle?”

Priscilla scrambled for her weapon. “Shit, a Reptilian!”

Rogers leaned out past Priscilla so he could see Kermit. “For the record, I found the PDA in bad taste as well.”

Eddie held Priscilla’s weapon in check. “Guys, this is Kermit. He’s my friend. Kermit, this is….”

“Director Colton Rogers and agent Priscilla Day of the Earth Guard,” Kermit replied, finishing Eddie’s introduction. “Your reputations precede you.”

“The bomb?” Eddie asked.

Kermit lowered his head. “We were unable to disarm it.”

Eddie placed a hand on the Reptilian’s shoulder. “We’re not beaten yet.”

“So, how did Eddie talk your people into joining him?” Priscilla asked.

The Reptilian’s pupils narrowed. “He confirmed a long-held suspicion that the Gray intended to betray us. And, of course, it isn’t every day humans return from the dead.”

“Your joining us is an unexpected, pleasant development,” Priscilla replied.

Kermit’s somber expression never changed. “We are allies for the duration of this battle, Agent Day. I can’t promise more once the smoke clears. Our Sacred Council remains spineless in the face of Gray duplicity. They will likely execute those of us who take a stand here today.”

Priscilla relaxed her posture. “Our fledgling cooperation is a start. I’m sure we can coexist peacefully.”

“We’ll see,” Kermit replied. “First, we must survive this Hall of Horrors and stop that bomb, or no amount of goodwill shall matter.”

“Agreed,” Priscilla answered.

A blood-curdling scream pierced the smoke from the ruins of the razed building. It was Lexi. A Gray took advantage of the thick smoke to sneak up on her position behind one of the toppled gestation pod bases. The surprise attack caused her to drop her blaster.

The Gray wrapped its leathery arms around Lexi’s waist and dragged her toward a door in the corner. Lexi fought with all she had, but Eddie knew firsthand she wasn’t strong enough to break its grip. The only thing that likely saved her from immediate electrocution was the Gray’s strong desire not to waste breeding stock. They mentioned once before that she would make an excellent addition to their human inventory.

Frank raced to aid the team’s resident computer whiz but was struck by a bioelectrogenic blast and fell to his knees. He still possessed the clarity of mind to crawl toward the teen and her captor, but he was in no shape to rescue her.

“Lexi!” Priscilla shouted. She tried to reach the girl, but the Gray’s lightning kept her pinned behind the fallen gestation chamber as well.

Eddie’s force field gave him the best chance to withstand the onslaught. His hands ignited, but a familiar shadow-blur raced toward Lexi and her captor before he got to his feet.

The Gray unleashed an electrical attack, but Luther ducked into the Void. The current missed him entirely. The wraith reappeared a few feet away from his target with shadows already billowing between his hands. The same dark energy he used earlier to create the lion construct poured from every fiber of his being.

The gathering clouds piled nearly high as the ceiling. The dark storm took no form at first, but the shapeless mist quickly morphed into a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Like Luther’s previous construct, the echo from eons past was recognizable only by its shadowy outline.

The prehistoric beast opened its jaws and lunged at both Lexi and the Gray. Her shriek would have done a Hollywood scream queen proud. The dinosaur swallowed them whole.

Lexi passed harmlessly through the shadowy billows and stood alone once the creature lumbered past her position. Her former captor found himself impaled on the T-Rex’s massive, shadowy teeth.

“Mother of God!” Rogers gulped. “I had no idea Luther could do that!”

The T-Rex shook the building when it stomped over the gestation chamber that Eddie shared with his allies. It slung the Gray’s broken body across the Hall. The bloodied alien crashed into a concrete column and slumped to the floor.

The shadowy, Cretaceous terror stalked the chamber for his next victim. A foolish, over-confident Gray rushed to meet the lumbering beast, but the alien’s electrical onslaught proved futile against a foe with no form and not truly alive.

For a brief moment, a gleam of swirling nebulae dust from the Void twinkled like a star where the thundering beast’s eye should have been, and it roared. The terrified Gray realized his error. He fled, but his stubby legs were no match for the shadowy beast’s towering stride.

Eddie wasn’t sure what happened to the Gray when he disappeared into the creature’s powerful jaws. He simply ceased to exist.  

Even a being as battle-hardened as Kermit was awed by the impressive display. “By the dark! Such terrifying power!”

Luther’s shadow creature morphed into a small biplane and buzzed a group of Gray that formed a line of defense against the Reptilian onslaught that pressed them from behind.

The plane dusted them with shadows like squid’s ink. Their writhing forms thrashed beneath the obsidian blanket. The gelatinous plasma puddled to the floor and melted the Gray like salt on a garden slug.

Bob came out of hiding and ushered Lexi to safety behind the gestation pod with the others.

Priscilla jerked the teen to the ground behind the overturned pod. “Lexi, are you okay?” 

Lexi threw her arms around Priscilla’s neck and clutched her tightly.

Priscilla’s awkward embrace was slow to follow, but Lexi latched on firmly enough for them both. Priscilla finally gave in and wrapped her arms around the teen’s waist, but her wide, unsure eyes pleaded for Eddie’s help. 

Lexi broke free of the embrace when she realized what she had done. Her forced smile fooled no one. “Don’t think I was scared! I’m a creature of darkness myself, you know. If anything, it made me stronger! But if Spooky ever does that again, I’ll kill him myself!”

Priscilla’s face wrinkled at the sudden turn, but she seemed relieved their angst-riddled, teen-vampire-wannabe was safe.

A Gray rushed to finish Frank. Atticus met his charge. The Gray unleashed his charged attack, but the sizzling torrent passed harmlessly through the apparition. Utilizing a poltergeist-like power Eddie hadn’t seen before, Atticus hurled a twisted, metal support rod from a shredded gestation pod into the Gray’s back.

The rod protruded from the impaled creature’s chest. Atticus granted the stunned Gray-kebab the mercy of a swift death. He phased through it and emerged with organs in each hand. It dropped dead.  

The Gray struggled on two fronts. They had the EGAD team entrenched before them and the Reptilians advancing on them from behind. Their foes’ combined forces wrangled the dwindling Gray numbers to the center of the cavernous facility.

The embattled aliens locked arms and formed a circle. Like plugging into a great battery, they combined their current and amplified the voltage in a final, desperate onslaught. Their lightning sizzled the air. The crackle built to a crescendo and exploded like fireworks. Tendrils of current lashed out indiscriminately and electrified the chamber. Every cubic inch of the place was filled with the onslaught.

Only Eddie was spared the torrent due to the Starseed’s force field. Bodies writhed around him and danced on the hellish current; cryptid, Reptilian, and human. If he didn’t do something quickly, the Gray would kill them all.

Eddie bolted toward the Gray’s desperate final stand and lit up like a human fireball. Their locked arms reminded him of playing “Red Rover” when he was a child. He usually ended up on his ass with the other kids laughing at him when he couldn’t break through their puny, youthful barrier. He hoped the intense heat he radiated would sever the Gray’s chain.

“Mr. King! What are you doing?” Rogers cried.

“We’ve wasted too much time on these clowns already!” Eddie replied. “They’re distracting us from the bomb!”

The weakest link in the Gray’s chain was a wounded, staggering creature of the Tall variety who stood only with the aid of those on either side of him. Eddie slammed into his rubbery arms and shattered his bond with his colleagues. The Gray’s heightened power output diminished immediately. He moved to the center of their circle and expelled raw solar power like a supernova.

The Gray fell as one. They never had a chance. 

The Great Hall fell silent, but there was no time to celebrate the victory. Eddie raced toward the bomb and arrived to find a pleasant surprise waiting; a handful of the mid-level Reptilian Council members worked feverishly to halt the device’s Doomsday countdown.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A stone-faced Reptilian in a green tunic hailed Eddie’s approach. The thin, crimson stripes that decorated his hood identified him as one of the Council’s junior members that sat in the back row during the Conclave. He stepped away from the bomb, his grim, serpentine eyes relaying his concern. “Starseed, the lockout code is unbreakable. I fear the world is lost!”

Eddie wasn’t sure what swayed the younger Councilors to defy their elders, but they were a welcome addition to the planet’s defense. Assuming life on Earth survived, perhaps the surface world and the Below could coexist peacefully.

The others followed close behind.

“Like hell it is!” said Lexi. “It’s only unbreakable if I can’t break it.”

The Reptilian dismissed her with a hiss. “I am third in rank in the Science Guild, female! What chance does a human child have where I failed?”

“Good thing I’m not human then,” Lexi replied. “Or a child.”

Rogers ushered the teen toward the bomb. “Just get in there and give me some good news, Lexi. This is no time for melodrama.”

Lexi took a knee and lifted a small door on the side of the device, just beneath a long, gas-filled verdant tube. She took a quick peek inside and snaked a shaky hand into the narrow opening.

The Councilor knelt beside her. “You’ll find the interface in the back by the….”

Lexi shot him a stink eye. “Well ahead of you, Green and Scaly. I work better alone.”

“But my expertise and my team….”

Lexi’s hand explored the device’s guts. “Alone, as in without your help. You’re distracting me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rogers apologized. “She’s better with machines and code than she is with people.”

The Reptilian stood and searched the crowd. “Surely there is someone better suited for the task than this petulant child?”

Rogers shook his head. “Not on this world.”

The stunned Councilor stepped back and gave Lexi room to work.

Rogers knelt beside the high-maintenance teen. “What do you think?”

“I think I liked the Reptilian better,” Lexi replied. “He didn’t crowd me.”

Rogers sighed. “The bomb, Lexi! I need a status now!”

“I can shut it down, Director,” Lexi replied.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“But it’s going to take some time,” Lexi added.

The Councilor pointed to a countdown clock on the mechanism’s display. “That is a luxury we can ill afford, human!”

Lexi blew a bubble and popped it. “Again, not human.”

The Reptilian sniffed the air. “I disagree. You carry the stench of the dominant surface species all over you.”

“If I weren’t busy trying to save the world right now, I’d so kick you in the balls,” Lexi replied. “Assuming, of course, Reptilians have balls.”

Rogers locked eyes with the bewildered Councilor. “I assure you her expertise exceeds her limited social skills.” 

“Whatever your origins, young female, time is not an ally,” said the green-robed Reptilian. “But your comment about these… what did you call them, balls? I’m not sure what you mean.”  

Lexi worked feverishly inside the device. “Sounds like you need to grow a pair then.”

“Lexi!” Rogers admonished. “How long will it take to shut it down? I need an estimate.”

“Give me three minutes,” Lexi replied. 

“Impossible! It would take me hours to even decode the sequence, let alone shut it down!” gasped the astonished Councilor. “If you can do so in minutes, then perhaps you aren’t human after all, youngling! However, as impressive as your skills may be, life on Earth has but one minute and twenty-seven seconds remaining.”

Rogers looked grim. “Eighty-seven seconds remain in the Age of Man.” 

“A presumptuous title for a geochronological period,” Kermit replied.

“No one will be around in a minute-and-a-half to argue the point,” Priscilla countered.

Rogers addressed the anxious faces crowded around the device. “While Lexi works to save us, does anyone else have an idea? It never hurts to have a backup plan.”

Worried glances were plentiful, but no one volunteered a suggestion. Seconds dripped away like raindrops from the eaves of a sad, crumbling house.

“I can contain the explosion in a force field,” Eddie blurted over the worried whispers. He hoped his proclamation was true. If not, then at least it granted the others a measure of hope in their waning seconds.

Rogers shook his head. “This isn’t erecting a shield around Bob’s telekinetic platform, Mr. King. Containing such a blast might kill you.”

“Maybe,” Eddie nodded.  “But we’re as good as dead anyway if I don’t try.”

Priscilla took Eddie’s hand and jerked him back. “Unacceptable! There has to be another way!”

“Do you have a better idea, Agent Day?” Rogers asked.

Priscilla released Eddie’s hand and bowed her head. “No, sir.”

“You underestimate the force of such a blast,” the Councilor argued.

Eddie stiffened his spine. “And you underestimate me.”

“Spoken like a true warrior,” said Frank. He slapped Eddie on the back. “I’m not sure we have another choice, Rogers.”

“And if it works, then what? Mr. King contains it forever?” Rogers asked.

No one replied.

Kermit made his way to Eddie’s side. “Is such a thing possible? To contain the blast?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know, but time is slipping away.”

“If you can contain it, then perhaps it will buy us some time to devise a more permanent solution,” said the Councilor. 

Everyone looked to Rogers.

“Well, Mr. King,” said Rogers. “It appears Earth’s fate lies in your hands after all. Lexi, give him room.”

Lexi removed her hand from the device’s guts and fell in beside Priscilla.

Eddie closed his eyes and slipped inside the device. Deep within its temperamental core, eager quarks buzzed like restless bargain hunters on Black Friday. The impatient subatomic particles were keen to unleash chaos on an orderly world.

Eddie politely asked them to stand down, but the unruly mob was incited to action and eager to carry out their marching orders. The impeccable manners and pleasant demeanor they demonstrated during Eddie’s previous encounter with them were long forgotten.

Moody little bastards.

Eddie’s attention returned to the world outside the microcosmic plane. Seconds ticked away while distraught hearts thumped in anxious chests.  The fears and worries of his friends and allies pressed on him like a beach day in Jupiter’s gravity. He willed a force field to appear between his hands, but it fizzled. A plethora of outside distractions made it difficult to communicate with the Starseed. Anxious throats cleared. Feet shuffled against the concrete floor. A tsunami of blood rushed through miles of collective veins and crashed like waves against his eardrums. Terror-stricken thoughts poked at his brain like pine needles. His own self-loathing whispers were the worst, reminding him of his lifetime of grand failures. Earth was doomed if Eddie heeded their nagging murmurs of doubt, but the apprehension was impossible to escape.

Or was it?

Eddie meditated on the Between, and its darkness swallowed him. There was no Elvis, Sun Records, or Madison Square Garden to greet him in the bleak, all-consuming void. Perhaps it was all a dream, but he appreciated the silence of the place. Once a place of great trepidation, he embraced the infinite blackness as a safe harbor.

Separated from the empathic projections of living organisms, Eddie coaxed to life a tiny sphere of pure Starseed energy. The orb lit the expanse and floated between his outstretched hands. He widened the gap between his palms, and the force field bubble expanded. Once it was large enough to contain the device, it popped like Lexi’s gum.

Eddie’s heart sank. He grew careless and enlarged it too quickly. Undaunted, he created another sphere and stabilized it before increasing its circumference. Satisfied with his handiwork, he whispered the bomb’s dirty little secrets in the sphere’s eager ears. And he knew them all.

A universe away, the others groaned at the fleeting clock. Each passing second hastened their demise.

Sweat beaded on Eddie’s forehead when the count reached thirty-two. Failing the planet was not an option because it meant failing Priscilla. He would succeed or die again trying to save her. Latching onto the sphere, he listened for the fearful voices a world away that enumerated Earth’s doom. They were his lodestar, his beacon to Dulce’s cavern.

His target in sight, Eddie moved toward America’s arid southwest, but the sphere lost form when he exited the Between. He panicked and turned away from the anxious voices counting down the seconds. The orb reformed but flickered again when he focused on Dulce. He was caught in a deadly Catch-22.

Maintaining the sphere’s integrity in one plane of existence while focusing his attention on his friends’ voices in another proved too much even for the Starseed. If Eddie was to find his way back, he needed to locate the path himself, or he’d never return in time. He searched for a familiar benchmark, the Milky Way. After all, how hard was it to locate a galaxy one hundred thousand light-years across?

Eddie quickly discovered it was more problematic than he imagined. From his vantage point, the galaxies scattered like a billion marbles on a school playground. His job was to stand atop the Matterhorn’s rugged Alpine peak and choose the correct one. Each tiny orb represented billions of stars and a near-infinite number of planets. One of them was the Milky Way, but which one?

A glimmer of light caught Eddie’s eye. Upon closer inspection, it proved to be a star nursery in the giant Hercules galaxy, a behemoth that measured over a million and a half light-years across and bloated with hundreds of billions of stars. Locating a galaxy shouldn’t have been like searching for a needle in the cosmic haystack, but it proved every bit as daunting.

The countdown at Dulce reached nineteen. It reminded Eddie of the time in fifth grade when the student body played the faculty in their annual basketball game at the end of the school year. The faculty enjoyed the physical advantage with their height and strength. But the pesky kids had youth on their side and kept it close throughout the contest.

With the faculty leading 45-44 and five seconds left to play, the school’s assistant principal fouled Mark Trigg on an inbound possession. Eddie knew another loss in the rivalry was imminent and walked away toward the bench while Bobby Thompson searched frantically for someone to inbound the ball to and put it into play. Eddie didn’t realize how much space he put between himself and everyone else, but Bobby did. He heaved the ball down the court.

Eddie caught it just past mid-court with no one around him. He dribbled twice and let the ball fly. The buzzer sounded, and the ball wobbled around the metal hoop in a tantalizing orbit. One moment it appeared the ball would drop into the net and elate the student cheering section. In the next breath, it clawed away from the bright-orange rim and tormented the onlookers with its wavering indecision.

The ball twisted his young stomach into knots teetering between victory and defeat. If the ball fell the right way, it could redeem his tarnished reputation. It would forever remove the imprint of Viper Sobek’s Converse shoes from his face. Would his classmates hail as the hero or scorn him as the goat? Why did he have to be the one to take the shot?

The student cheering section jumped to its feet, and the ball contacted the backboard. It plummeted to the gym floor. The sickening thud secured the faculty’s sixteenth consecutive victory in the showdown and demoralized the student body.

It was an expected defeat, but coming so close and losing in such a dramatic fashion was gut-wrenching. No one talked about how close the kids came to scoring a major upset of their elders that day. The scuttlebutt in the hallways was how “that loser foster kid, Eddie,” choked with it all on the line.

He refused to choke again.

“Seven,” everyone groaned in unison with a few straggling behind the pack in announcing the number. Eddie had to take his shot. He released the sphere for a fleeting moment and searched the ball pit of galaxies below him.

When Eddie spotted the Milky Way, he realized it tried to get his attention all along. Its spiral arms waved him home as he rushed toward it. Confident of his destination, he reformed the sphere, whispered to it the device’s secrets, and tucked it beneath his arm like a football.

Eddie dived into the frantic galaxy and from there located Earth’s solar system. He swam past dark worlds awaiting discovery far beyond Pluto’s elliptical orbit and broke toward the sun. The tapestry of the solar system whirred past him – Saturn’s majestic rings, Jupiter’s gaseous mass and its own solar system of moons, past the asteroid belt, and finally peering over the circumference of Mars was the aquamarine jewel he sought.

Earth.

The countdown drew perilously close to zero. Eddie wasn’t a great student in school but recognized the United States thanks to Florida’s distinct landmass jutting into the Atlantic. He searched the desert southwest on the opposite side of the continent but needed something to draw him to Dulce and found it; Priscilla swore her final thoughts on Earth would be about Eddie. Guided by her love, both the Archuleta Mesa and the Dulce base were easy marks.

“Three… two… one…”

Eddie enveloped the pernicious device within his force field. It detonated inside the sphere. The explosion knocked him to the floor, but his force field held. He staggered to his feet and grappled with the raw, destructive energy buffeting his will.

For an instant, the Great Hall seemed frozen like a prehistoric insect in amber. Then, perhaps for the first time ever, Dulce erupted in joy. Frank hugged Rogers. Priscilla hugged Bob. Lexi hugged the Reptilian Councilor then wiped her hands on her shirt with a disgusted look. But it didn’t matter. They were alive and not evolutionary sludge!

The elation passed when the gnawing question Rogers stated earlier became all too tangible on everyone’s lips, “What now?”

A swarm of deadly, super-charged gases churned within the undulating orb and sought any tiny imperfection by which to escape.

“Now would be a great time to share any great ideas that come to mind,” Eddie begged. He poured every ounce of his willpower into maintaining the orb’s integrity. Though soaked in sweat, his every pore felt like it was on fire. He double-checked the back of his hands to be sure he didn’t inadvertently activate his new human fireball party trick. “I don’t know how long I can hold this thing!”

Lexi was the first to spot it. “No way! Dude, you’re sweating blood! And to be honest, it’s making me a little hungry!”

“Please don’t distract the Starseed, young one,” the Councilor warned.

“You have to hold on!” Rogers shouted. “Ideas, anyone?”

The remainder of the Sacred Council made their way to Nightmare Hall.

The Lord Councilor limped in on his cane. He surveyed the destruction and stretched the walking stick toward Kermit. “This is an outrage! First, you brought a human into our Conclave, and now you have slain our allies?”

Kermit, Frank, and Atticus formed a line to protect Eddie and his delicate work.

“The Starseed’s words proved truthful. He saved his people and ours!” Kermit replied.

“Yet, those who followed him disobeyed a direct order from the Council and must perish,” the Lord Councilor replied. “Including the disobedient Junior Councilors!”

Kermit nodded to his battle-weary Reptilian forces. They surrounded the Senior Council and held them at blaster point. “No one else dies today unless the Starseed fails. If the world survives, our people must find a new way. Consider this a revolution.”

The Lord Councilor and his cohorts expressed indignation at being relieved of their duties, but their rage was the only thing they could control.

“Eddie can’t contain the explosion forever,” said Rogers. “Let’s put the scientific know-how in this room to good use!”

Eddie fell to a knee. “Please, hurry!”

“Sorry, Mr. King,” Rogers replied. “There isn’t a chapter in the Junior Woodchuck handbook on playing Atlas.”

“Now is not the time for jokes,” Eddie replied.

Rogers’ face wrinkled with worry. “Who’s joking?”

“What is an “Atlas”?” the green-robed Councilor asked.

“Atlas is a mythological figure from Earth’s ancient past who was responsible for holding up the sky on his shoulders,” Rogers explained.

The Councilor nodded. “A crude analogy but apt.”

A Councilor in a gold tunic scanned Eddie’s force field. “The orb holds remarkably steady, but the limitations of the human host will inevitably lead to failure.”

“I’m happy to pass on the burden to any Reptilian who thinks he could do a better job,” Eddie strained to reply.

“Calm down, Mr. King,” Rogers replied. “I think what the Councilor is saying, in a nutshell, is that Greek gods never had to pee.”

Eddie really wished Rogers hadn’t mentioned the need to pee. “Fair enough.”

“Kind of like holding in the biggest fart ever, huh?” Frank snickered.

“Seriously, dude? Fart jokes at a time like this?” Lexi asked. “Even I’m not that immature!”

Frank shrugged. “We all die sometime, Kiddo, and we usually have no say in how we go or when we make the final voyage. If this is my last day on Earth, then I choose to keep my sense of humor intact.”

Lexi tilted her head to one side. “You think that’s a sense of humor? How sad.”

The Reptilian in the gold tunic put away his scanner. “We have merely prolonged the inevitable then. Even the Starseed can’t hold back the energy forever, and there is nowhere on Earth he can safely expel the bomb.”

A germ of an idea formed in Eddie’s head. “That’s it! Bob, get over here quickly!”

Rogers smiled. “This had better be good.”

The small, Gray alien waddled to Eddie’s side but was reluctant to stand so close to the menacing orb containing the swirling alien energies.              

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” Eddie assured him. His eyes darted around the room. “Luther? Where are you?”

The elusive shadow-being zipped to within inches of Eddie’s face. “I’m here.”

“Bob, can you link me telepathically with Luther?” Eddie asked. “Show him what I have in mind?”

Bob nodded. “I can.” His large, almond-shaped eyes glowed white within their sockets.

Eddie felt Bob’s familiar telepathic nudge.

“Are you sure?” Bob shrieked, aghast at Eddie’s plan. “We will die if you miscalculate!”

Eddie nodded. “And everyone on this planet will be swamp sludge if we don’t try. Don’t worry, Luther will get us in there.”

“And me?” Bob asked. “Why must I tag along for this suicide mission?”

Eddie felt the alien’s palpable fear. “I can’t maintain the force field and handle the telepathic stuff too. I need you to guide Luther.”

Bob nodded. “Very well. If this is to be my end, then at least I can rest knowing I saved the world.”

“Whatever happens… I love you too,” Priscilla blurted, finally echoing Eddie’s earlier declaration from when they were entrenched behind the gestation pod.

“Old people are so gross,” said Lexi.

Priscilla gestured toward the wing where the Gray held the subjects of their cruel genetic experiments. “While you’re off saving the planet, I have a promise to keep to some prisoners.”

“I’ll accompany you, Miss Priscilla,” said Atticus. “My phasing abilities may come in handy.”

Luther laid a hand on Eddie’s right shoulder, and Bob placed a reluctant hand on his left. The tingle of teleportation tucked them into the Void. They arrived between two mountain-sized asteroids on a collision course with one another. Luther steered them clear of the debris and seemed unaffected by the close call. Eddie remembered that what appeared to be near-misses to everyone else was a leisurely stroll for the wraith.

“Can you maintain the construct in this chaos?” Bob fretted.

“It’s not easy,” Eddie admitted. “But I trust Luther to guide us safely. Besides, I learned a lot about the sphere while creating it. Hopefully, that knowledge will help me hold it together long enough for this to work. The pressure is building within it at an astonishing rate.”

“We’ve arrived,” Luther announced.

The trio emerged from the Void inside a cafeteria within the Gray lunar base in Gardner Crater. Eddie remembered the EGAD! tabloid Priscilla bought him as a joke the night they first met. The headline on the cover was still vivid in his mind’s eye, “BLACK TRIANGLE SPOTTED AT ALIEN LUNAR BASE!” it blared in two-inch block letters.

Even more memorable was the conversation they shared about Gardner Crater. Eddie’s life as a womanizer finally paid dividends. He possessed a near-Eidetic memory for conversations with pretty girls. It helped him keep track of the bullshit he fed them.

Thankfully, those days were behind him. 

The startled Gray were mesmerized by the intruders in their midst and ill-prepared to defend themselves.

Eddie dropped the payload in the middle of a long dining table. It buckled beneath the bomb’s weight. “Shake, Rattle, and Roll, you murdering bastards! This one’s for Hank!”

Luther ducked the trio back into the Void the second Eddie released the force field that contained the blast’s roiling energies.

Eddie watched the detonation from the safety of the Void. The explosion obliterated the massive base. A mushroom cloud enveloped the crater. “Total annihilation,” he whispered. He turned his attention to Dulce. The unlikely assembly gathered there waited anxiously for the team’s return from their mysterious mission. Some among them doubted they would ever return.

Priscilla and Atticus freed the prisoners from their cages, but her thoughts were with Eddie the entire time. The captives liberated, she led a parade of tortured souls to the cavernous hall and gave everyone something else to think about as they raced to help those in need. A mixture of hybrid and human was well-represented in the macabre menagerie. A pregnant blonde seemed especially attached to her emancipator. The girl’s fevered mind needed years to heal. Atticus assisted a slithering Human-Reptilian hybrid.

“We’re phasing back to Dulce now,” Luther warned.

A second later, Earth’s defenders materialized at the wrecked base. Nightmare Hall erupted with raucous cheers once more.

Eddie collapsed the moment his feet touched the ground. His astral form ejected from his body. Friends and allies rushed to render first aid while he hovered above the scene.

Rogers implored everyone to stay back, but a mixture of curiosity and concern got the best of them. 

Priscilla shoved her way through the bodies and knelt at Eddie’s side. She cradled his head on her lap and ran her fingers through his dark locks. “Come on, stay with me! I can’t lose you twice in one day!”

“I’m okay,” Eddie’s astral form assured her.

Priscilla didn’t acknowledge him.

“I’m up here! Hello!” Eddie called.

Rogers felt Eddie’s wrist. “His pulse is weak, but he’s alive! Bob, where did Mr. King drop the payload?”

“He delivered it to the Gray Lunar Base in Gardner Crater,” Bob replied.

Rogers grinned. “The result?”

“Eddie confirmed it was total annihilation,” Bob replied.

Rogers grilled Bob for information. “Was Mr. King caught in the explosion?”

Bob shook his head. “No, sir. His condition is likely the result of containing the blast for so long while crossing the dimensional barrier. I felt the unbearable weight of his burden through our telepathic bond. It’s scary how powerful he will become if he survives.”

Kermit was even more eager to affirm Eddie’s stature. “Or how powerful he already is.”

“He’s going to survive!” Priscilla snapped. She planted a hopeful kiss on Eddie’s lips, but he was no Sleeping Beauty, and her kiss wasn’t the enchanted, life-giving magic of fairy tales.  “Please come back to me! This isn’t fair.”  Tears welled up in her eyes. She shook her man’s limp body, but he didn’t respond. “Eddie? Do you hear me? Wake up, dammit! Wake up!” 

“What are you doing up there, son?” asked a familiar voice. Eddie was the only one capable of seeing the King. “You should be down here enjoying the little lady’s attention.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how he became separated from his body. “I hit the floor, and the next thing I knew, I was floating up here.”

Elvis pointed to Eddie’s body. “Come down here and stop hovering! You could lose your mortal soul if you’re not careful!”

“Are you real or a manifestation of my imagination?” Eddie asked.

Elvis smiled. “As real as you want me to be.”

Eddie hated cryptic answers. He rejoined his nearly lifeless shell.

The King looked Priscilla over. “This is her?”

Eddie nodded. He heard himself groan in Priscilla’s arms. “Priscilla.”

“Eddie?” Priscilla shrieked with hope in her hoarse, shaky voice. She kissed his face. “Oh, thank god!” 

Eddie tried to speak again but managed only an inarticulate moan. 

“Keep talking to me,” Priscilla pleaded as she lightly tapped Eddie’s cheeks. “I’m here.”

Elvis smiled. “You’re going to be fine.”

“How do you know?” Eddie asked.

“Are you kidding?” Elvis asked. “You have a Priscilla that loves you. What more does a man need?”

Eddie admired the woman he loved. “That I do.” 

Priscilla turned to Rogers. “Any idea what he’s babbling about?”

Rogers shrugged. “An addled man talks out of his head sometimes, but anyone who sweats blood to prevent a planet-wide catastrophe is due a little befuddled stupor.”

Priscilla stroked Eddie’s hair. “I’m so proud of him.”

“She’s right. That was some great work, Daddy-o!” said Elvis.

Eddie nodded. “Thanks.”

“I have to go, but don’t run from this one,” said Elvis. “She’s a keeper.”

Eddie gasped and opened his eyes. “Am I alive?”

Priscilla kissed him. “You bet your ass you are, Moneybags.”

“Help me stand,” said Eddie. He raised to a seated position.

Jubilation swept the room.

Frank took Eddie’s hand in his massive mitt and jerked him to his feet. He crushed the Starseed host in a bear hug. “I knew you had it in you, kid!”

“I call bullshit,” Eddie replied. “You’ve called me a loser since the moment we met.”

Frank shrugged. “Still are, but now you’re a loser who saved the world!”

Rogers patted Eddie on the back.  “Welcome back to the land of the living for the second time today, Mr. King!”

“I wasn’t dead that time,” Eddie replied. “I was… never mind.”

Some things were best kept to oneself.

Kermit placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “My people are in your debt, Starseed.”

Eddie shook his head. “Any debt you think you owed was paid when you helped save my friends.”

Kermit nodded. “And you are a friend to my people… and me.”

“Likewise,” Eddie replied. He extended his hand to shake, but the gesture perplexed the Reptilian.

“Forgive my ignorance, but what do I do with your mammalian appendage?” Kermit asked.

Rogers nudged Kermit. “You shake it.”

Kermit tilted his head. “That is a ridiculous custom! Is it not sufficient to acknowledge my people’s gratitude?”

Eddie patted the Reptilian on the back. “That it is, my friend.”

Kermit seemed pleased and joined in the jubilation.  

“You saved the world, Mr. King. What now?” Rogers asked.

Eddie grabbed Priscilla and kissed her. When their lips finally parted, he took her by the hand and removed his TCB ring. “I have some ideas.”

Epilogue

E ddie knelt in the freshly mowed, damp grass and placed a bouquet of mixed flowers into the planter on the right side of Hank’s headstone. It matched the bouquet Priscilla put on the left moments before, a mixture of zinnias, gladiolas, and white carnations. Each bouquet featured one long-stemmed daylily the florist called a Red Magic. Eddie stood and took a step back to admire his handiwork. 

Priscilla snuggled beneath Eddie’s arm and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I wish I could have met him.”

Eddie nodded. “You would have liked him. He was a good man, kind and decent; the closest thing to a real father I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sure he was special to have made that kind of impression on you,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie fought back his tears. “Very special indeed. I just wish I wasn’t such an ass to him the last time I saw him.”

“It sounds like he knew you well enough to know you’re always an ass,” Priscilla answered.

“Hey!” Eddie shot back.

“I just meant that he knew you and loved you anyway,” Priscilla replied.

Eddie bent down and traced the letters of Hank’s name engraved in the cream-colored marble slab. A small photo of a young Hank in uniform was fixed to the stone and sealed in glass to keep out the elements. The youthful face wasn’t the one Eddie knew, but the handsome features were unmistakable. “I didn’t know Hank was a Vietnam veteran. He never talked about it.”

“There’s a lot we don’t know about those we love,” Priscilla replied.

“He gave me my TCB ring. It was a birthday present,” said Eddie, sniffing back a tear. “He always told me to follow the ring’s advice, and I’d do something great one day. Did I tell you that?”

“No, you didn’t,” Priscilla answered. “I wonder what he would have thought had he known your business was saving the world?”

Eddie wiped away a tear and laughed. “He would have laughed and said, “Bullshit.”

Priscilla playfully slapped her man’s chest. “Can’t blame him. That was my first thought too.”

“Aren’t you a barrel of laughs?” Eddie replied.

Priscilla squeezed Eddie’s hand. “You want more time?”

Eddie shook his head but remained transfixed on his mentor’s final resting place. Much needed to be said before he closed the door on such a defining chapter in his life. “Hey old-timer, it’s me, Eddie. You’re not going to believe this, but I saved the world. Yeah, it still sounds weird for me to say it, but I did! I think you’d be proud of me. I made some right decisions for a change. I didn’t run for once.”

Priscilla squeezed Eddie’s hand. “Go on. Speak your heart.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Eddie sighed. He broke down, the apology pouring from his eyes as well as his mouth. “You know, all those nasty things I said to you that night. You know me, the mouth works faster than the brain. That’s what you always said, right? You knew Vegas would eat me alive and spit me out, and you cared enough to tell me the truth. Deep down, I knew you were right but my pride… Elvis was all I had. If I wasn’t good enough for that, then what good was I? Anyway, I wanted to thank you for everything you taught me and for taking a chance on me. And to say I’m sorry for, you know… being an asshole.”

“He knows,” said Priscilla. She stepped away, still holding Eddie’s hand. “Are you ready?”

Eddie nodded but pulled Priscilla back in his arms. “Oh, and one more thing… I’m finally going to Vegas but not to play Elvis. I’ve found a new gig. I’m a secret agent now! Can you believe that? And I met the woman of my dreams.” He held up his left hand and proudly displayed a wedding ring where he once wore his TCB. “I retired the TCB when I got this. You’re probably thinking, “About damn time!” Right?”

Priscilla nestled her head on Eddie’s shoulder. “Let’s revisit that part where I’m the woman of your dreams.”

Eddie loved the smell of Priscilla’s hair. The light tea tree fragrance reminded him how sweet life was for a change. “You’re the only one for me. God knows old Hank watched me leave the Time Machine with a parade of one-night stands who were wrong for me in every way. I just wish he could have met you.”

“Two things,” Priscilla replied. Her sharp, bony elbow buried itself in Eddie’s unsuspecting ribcage and knocked the breath from him. “One, I can be a wee bit jealous, so let’s bury that torrid past of yours right here where it belongs and never speak of it again. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” Eddie gulped as he struggled to regain his composure. He made a mental note to remind himself he married one of the world’s premier bad-ass martial artists and to strain all future stupid comments through that filter. “Does the second thing involve hitting me too?”

Priscilla whirled into Eddie’s arms, threw her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. “No, it’s this. You’re the man of my dreams too, and don’t you ever forget it.”

Eddie returned the kiss and pulled his head back to admire Priscilla’s playful smile. He loved how she displayed a tiny hint of her tongue behind her teeth. It was seductive and innocent all at once. His arms remained around her waist and her arms around his neck. He didn’t want to release the hug. Even at the foot of his mentor’s grave and surrounded by reminders of imminent mortality, he was truly happy for the first time in his life. “Yeah, I like the second thing a lot better than the first.”

Priscilla pulled away and intertwined her fingers with his. She nudged him toward the cemetery gate at the far end of the pristine field. “I don’t know. That first point felt pretty good too. You really need to work on your core, by the way, especially if you’re going to be an agent. Space travel requires a strong core.”

Eddie allowed himself to be pulled along for a brief second before the gravity of Priscilla’s words hit him. “Space travel? Wait, what?”

About the Author

David Marshall grew up in the small coal mining community of Coeburn, Virginia. He moved to the Nashville, TN area in 1996 to pursue music and still calls the Nashville area home. He is the husband to Tiffani, a pretty redhead from Minnesota and the father of Carter, boy genius and drummer extraordinaire.

Upcoming Books from David:

Beautiful Hope- Coming Late Summer/Early Fall 2021

Kringle: The North Pole Chronicles

Coming Late Fall 2021

Also available in paperback exclusively at Amazon.com and coming soon on audiobook. Click here to learn more.

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