Illegal Aliens by Nick Pollotta

Author:Nick Pollotta
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-13T23:12:35+00:00

* * * *

This conversation, relayed to the Great Golden Ones Headquarters via the flying refrigerator, was judged to be fitting and proper. Avantor, the avantor and her 17, were to be congratulated on a job well done.

Much later, under harsher scrutiny, it was decided that this is where the two made their big mistake. But at the time, who could have known?

* * * *

Night had come to Central Park. Past the tall trees, the electric towers of New York City brightened the horizon, while powerful floodlights illuminated the area about the colossal white ship brighter than day. In relative peace, the FCT bid its guests adieu while thousands of unseen eyes kept close track of their every move. The noisy civilian crowds were hundreds of meters away behind the military cordon, the NATO troops just recently reinforced by a special crowd control unit from the NYPD. During a rock concert, this small a group was the lull the police relaxed in. Heck, nobody was even drunk!

The street gang's tribute had been long since removed from the starship, and the confiscated alien artifacts replaced inside the cargo bay. Near the base of the loading ramp, Avantor and The 17 checked over the inventory of items, making sure that nothing from the ship was missing. But The 17 quickly noted a major discrepancy, and bluntly asked the attending humans where was Trell-desamo-Trell-ika-Trell-forzua-Junior?

Resplendent in his red diplomat sash, light gray morning coat and black silk top hat, Prof. Rajavur pretended surprised. “Gosh, I thought the ambulance would have delivered him already."

Avantor chewed over the human word. “Ambulance,” she repeated. “A medical emergency vehicle?

Why would the Technician have need of such a transport? Was he damaged in the fighting?"

“Killed while trying to escape, actually,” General Bronson said, sounding embarrassed. “Our troops were understandably a bit trigger happy."

With an unreadable expression, the alien female turned her eerie black eyes on the Earth soldier. “And why wasn't I informed of his demise earlier?” she inquired, her voice the temperature of liquid methane.

Bronson shrugged, making his chest full of medals tinkle like distant wind chimes. “You didn't ask,” he replied truthfully.

“Where is Trell's body located?” interjected The 17 boldly stepping forward, his electrostatic clipboard and stylus floating rigidly in the air nearby.

General Nicholi, who was as equally decked out as his friends in full dress uniform, sash, ribbons and metals, none of them for good conduct, answered the golden male's question. “Across the street in a mobile UN lab undergoing total dissection. Why? Is there a problem with that?"

For a moment, Avantor and her 17 touched hands. “Produce his remains immediately,” the female alien ordered. The unspoken words ‘or else', clearly heard by everybody present.

The FCT exchanged a round of glances as Nicholi muttered something to the military aide standing beside him. The UN soldier nodded, saluted, and spoke briefly into his helmet microphone. In less than a minute later, the civilian crowd parted and through the NATO barricade rolled a military ambulance. The aliens strode over to the white car as armed UN guards opened the rear doors.

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