Invaders: 22 Tales From the Outer Limits of Literature by W. P. Kinsella & Jim Shepard & Steven Millhauser & Max Apple & Amiri Baraka & Jacob Weisman

Author:W. P. Kinsella & Jim Shepard & Steven Millhauser & Max Apple & Amiri Baraka & Jacob Weisman
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781616962104
Publisher: Tachyon Publications
Published: 2016-07-12T07:00:00+00:00

“Mike Street, the man inside the Seattle Albatross costume for the past five years, has announced his retirement,” she is saying.

“Albatross flies the coop” was how the headline of the Post-Intelligencer sports section read.

The camera cuts to the smiling but vacuous face of Buzz Hinkman, the Seattle Mariners’ coordinator of public relations.

“The only reason we’re making a statement at all is because of the bizarre rumors that have been circulating,” says Buzz. “Mike joked that it was time for him to seek visible employment. He’s left Seattle and is taking a long holiday while he mulls over a number of employment offers.”

In that way of news broadcasters, Buzz goes on talking, mouthing his pompous platitudes while the voice of Jean Enersen lists a few highlights of my career and wishes me well. The final word, however, belongs to Buzz: “I want to assure the press, our own Seattle Mariners fans, and the baseball world at large that reports concerning the death of the Seattle Albatross are somewhat exaggerated.” Here Buzz smiles his empty but winning smile for at least the tenth time, and Channel Five moves on to a story about a baby orangutan.

Buzz probably believes what he has just said. And if he doesn’t believe it he’s not a bad actor. I’m sure the word has been passed down to him from the general manager, perhaps even the owners, who in turn have been briefed by higher powers as to what to say.

The first thing I have to admit is that our people did not understand the civilization of Earth very well. I’m afraid the bureaucrats on our planet aren’t very bright, which shouldn’t come as any surprise, except that everyone here on Earth accepts as fact that other civilizations are far more intelligent. About the only advantage I have over people on Earth is a built-in ability to engage, with considerable help, in teleportative space travel. If our politicians and military bureaucrats had been smarter, they would have investigated conditions much more thoroughly before packing me off to Earth.

One of the first things we saw when we began intercepting television signals from Earth was the San Diego Chicken.

“Look! Look!” our prime minister chortled. “They have an integrated society. It appears that fifty thousand people on Earth are gathered together to worship one of our own.” I have to admit that that is what it looked like.

As the TV signals became clearer, the prime minister and the joint chiefs of staff spent a great deal of time watching baseball, not that they understood the game. I’ve been here for five years and I barely understand it. But what they did understand was popularity, and mascots were popular. The San Diego Chicken was most like one of our own, but B. J. Birdy from Toronto, Fredbird the Redbird from St. Louis, and even the Phillie Phanatic could walk down the street in any of our major cities without being stared at.

“They even have economically disadvantaged segments of the population,” enthused the prime minister, after viewing the bedraggled set of mascots fielded by the Chicago White Sox.

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