Carol laughed nervously. “Nick’s not the only one feeling frustrated, Troy. I was with you down there and I must admit that I’m having a hard time tracking your story. Maybe we should stop interrupting and let you talk. I’ve told Nick what happened in that solar system room up until you ran out and the thing or warden followed. Start from there, if you would, and tell the story in logical sequence.”
“I’m not sure there is such a thing as a logical sequence, angel,” Troy replied, echoing Carol’s laugh. “The whole episode defies logic altogether. The warden thing eventually trapped me in a blind alley and sort of anesthetized me with one of its rods. It was like I was dreaming, but the dreams were real. I remember a similar feeling, after a fistfight when I was a teenager. I had a small concussion then. I knew that I was alive, but I was very very slow to react. Reality seemed toned down, out there in the distance somewhere.
“Anyway, another warden character showed up, same kind of body but different fixtures sticking in the jelly, and carried me to what I think was an examination room. I don’t know exactly how long I was there. I was stretched out on the floor and touched by all kinds of instruments. My brain felt as if it were in superfast motion, but I don’t recall any specific thoughts. Some images I do remember. I relived my brother, Jamie, breaking through the line on a trap play and going forty-five yards for a touchdown in the Florida state championship. Then the bracelet was put on my wrist and I had the distinct impression that someone was talking to me. Very quietly, perhaps even in a foreign language, but every now and then I understood what was being said.
“What they told me,” Troy continued with an intense and distant expression on his face, “was that what we call the laboratory is really a space vehicle from another world. And that it has crash-landed, in a sense, on the Earth to allow time for some difficult repairs. They, that is, whoever built the ship, need help from us, from me and you, to obtain some of the specific items necessary for the repairs. Then they can continue on their journey.”
Nick was now sitting on the floor just opposite Troy. Both Carol and he were hanging on every word. They sat in silence for almost thirty seconds after Troy had finished. “If this story is true,” Nick finally spoke, “then we are—”
There was a loud knock at the door. All three of them jumped. Several seconds later the knock repeated. Troy went to the door and partially opened it.
“There you are, you little shit,” Carol and Nick heard a gruff, angry voice say. Captain Homer Ashford pushed through the door. He didn’t see Nick and Carol at first. “We had a deal and you’ve welshed on it. You have been back two hours already…”
Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Homer saw that there were other people in the room. He turned around to talk to Greta, who had not yet entered the house. “Guess what?” he said. “Nick Williams and Miss Dawson are also here. No wonder we couldn’t find her at the hotel.”
Greta followed Homer into the living room. Her clear, expressionless eyes spent no more than one second staring at each of the trio. Carol thought she saw just a trace of disdain in Greta’s look, but she wasn’t certain. Homer turned to Carol, the tone in his voice markedly more civil. “We saw you two return from your excursion around two o’clock,” he said with a fake smile. “But somehow we missed Troy.” He winked at Carol and turned to Nick. “Find any more exciting trinkets today, Williams?”
Nick had never made any attempt to hide the fact that he did not like Captain Homer. “Why of course, Captain,” he answered, sneering the epithet, “would you believe we found a veritable mountain of gold and silver bars? Looked like that Santa Rosa stack we had on the boat one afternoon, must be about eight years ago. Remember? That was before Jake and I let you and Greta unload it.”
Homer’s voice had a nasty edge to it. “I should have sued you for slander, Williams. That would have shut your loud mouth once and for all. You had your day in court. Now knock off the crap, or one day you’ll have more trouble than you can handle.”
While Nick and Homer were trading insults and threats, Greta was strutting around the living room as if she were in her own house. She seemed to be oblivious to the conversation and even to the presence of the other people in the room. She was wearing a tight white muscle shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts. When Greta walked, she carried her arms high, her back straight, and her breasts erect. Carol was intrigued by her behavior. She watched Greta stop and sort through Troy’s compact discs. Greta pulled out the disc with the cover picture of Angie Leatherwood and licked her lips. This pair belongs in a kinky novel, Carol thought, as she overheard Troy tell Captain Homer that he was busy this afternoon but would get back to him later. What’s their story? wondered Carol. And where does fat Ellen fit in? Carol remembered that she was scheduled to interview the three of them later in the evening. But I’m not sure that I really want to find out.
“We were calling to tell you to bring your swimming suit tonight,” Captain Homer was addressing Carol. She had missed the first part of his statement while she was watching Greta parade around the room.
“Pardon me,” she said politely. “Could you repeat what you just said? I’m afraid I had drifted away for a few seconds.”
“I said that you should come early, about eight o’clock.” Homer replied. “And bring your suit. We have a most interesting and unusual pool.”
During this exchange, Greta walked up behind Nick and quickly reached both arms around him. With everyone else in the room watching, she lightly twisted his nipples through his polo shirt and laughed when he jumped. “You always did like that, ya, Nikki,” she said, releasing him after an instant. Carol saw anger flash in Homer’s eyes. Nick started to say something but Greta had already walked out the front door before he could register a protest.
“Be sure to call me when you’re through here, Homer said to Troy after an embarrassing silence. “We need to straighten out a few things.” The older man turned around, awkwardly, and without additional comment followed Greta toward his Mercedes parked in front of Troy’s house.
“Now where were we?” said Troy abstractedly, as he closed the door behind Homer and Greta.
“You,” said Nick with emphasis, “were telling us an amazing story and had almost reached the punch line, where you were going to tell us what we could do to help some aliens who landed here on Earth to repair their space vehicle. But first I, for one, would like some explanations. I don’t know if I believe any of this wild fairy tale you’re telling us, but I will admit that it is extremely creative. What concerns me at this minute, however, is not the issue of creatures from another world. It’s those two real-life sleazebag human beings who just left. What did they want? And are they somehow involved in our current adventure?”
“Just a minute, Nick,” Carol intervened. “Before we become sidetracked, I would like to know what kind of help these ETs of Troy’s want from us. A telephone? A new spaceship? Let’s find this out now and talk about Homer and your girlfriend Greta later.” Her reference to Greta was light and playful. Nick accepted it with good humor and feigned a wound. Then he nodded his assent to Carol’s suggestion. Troy pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and took a deep breath.
“Now you guys must understand that I’m not yet absolutely certain that I am properly receiving all their messages. But this particular transmission, where they list the things they need from us, is repeated every half hour. My interpretation of it hasn’t changed for the last ninety minutes, so I’m fairly certain that I have it right. It’s a long list and of course I don’t pretend to comprehend why they want all this stuff. But I am certain you will both find it very interesting.”