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an illegal "alien" in the real sense works for the chief of homeland security as a nanny.
chippewa
Chippewa
Chapter 1
Welcome to my unfortunate dream. On the floor of the bright spaceship, I’m leaning back on my elbows shivering. I’m naked and a little scared. The metal is cold beneath my butt as they surround me, eyes black and unblinking. My insides feel squeezed. I need air. The interior seems small or maybe I just feel closed in as they stand over me. They simulate gravity, because I’m scared to fly. I’m scared of everything, and they know it. Distressed, I shift to turn away, but they are on every side, hearing my thoughts, feeling the energy of my pain.
Unfortunately, it’s not a dream.
I want to go home.
I see the earth so far below us, so cerulean and serene, as if unconcerned that I am gone. Who even misses me? My stomach falls as if being on a hellish carnival ride with no way to get off. I ache to return to reality, even though it doesn’t exist for me anymore, at least not back on earth where I once lived. The Grays don’t care that I don’t want a reality with them. My wishes have rarely mattered. I’m alive, but who wants an existence like this, as if a pet on display? I want to walk on the grass surrounded by trees and see people going about their routines, whether shopping or meeting friends. I want to be like them, away from all this.
Seeing my despair, one of the Grays reaches out a long bony finger. It strokes my blond hair. I close my eyes and cry. That greasy appendage moves to catch my tear. Smelly, ugly creatures, I call them. They don’t take offense. They are without feeling, so they get off on mine. My pain fascinates them.
I will die out here, I tell them, it’s so cold, so empty.
The leader lifts my chin and makes me look at him, though “him” is a guess. Four-feet tall with a big, round head, he has incredibly thin arms which hang too far down his spindly legs. Telepathically, he spoke.
Your government tried to kill you.
That hurt. I curled up and hugged my knees, thinking of Martin M. Black. No, he wouldn’t do that. He was handsome and compassionate. He only wanted to release me to a better place, to escape the Grays. The last I remembered was making love with him, the warmth of his body intermingling with mine. Then he gave me a shot and all went black. But, I’m not dead. I won’t believe that he meant to harm me.
We came and revived you.
Why?
You are our only successful hybrid. Most can’t pass for human. And if they do, they are too unfeeling and what you would call sociopaths.
That doesn’t preclude me. My brain is a tightly bound ball of pathos.
But I wasn’t successful…
We are sending you back. Your work is not done.
I tense, knowing the truth. I couldn’t cut it as a human. Why try? Hypersensitive and unable to connect well to others, I only managed to love one person, and, even in that, I failed or else I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Now I’m lying in the middle of Gray bodies like an abused lab rat. I can’t mesh in either world, either reality. I’m an atrocity.
They converse with each other on a level I do not understand, perhaps in a language older than time. I wish I were either one of them or all-human and happily oblivious to the universe beyond. Against my will, I’m stuck in between, yet I have desires. I need to be touched and held. The emptiness is deep. A human can not exist alone. This is how you remind me of what I really am, I say to myself. Unfortunately, they heard it. I momentarily forgot they can read my thoughts.
To make matters worse, I see blood pooling beneath me. Without the simulated gravity, the droplets would rise and disperse around the ship; not exactly something I could hide. If this weren’t already so surreal, I probably would have been embarrassed. Unsure what to do, I see one shaking its head and pointing to my stomach, while shielding it’s thoughts from me. I have disappointing thoughts of my own, about Martin. Maybe they were influencing my thoughts, but I suddenly wanted a child with a MIB, however absurd that happened to sound.
I don’t suppose you have a tampon?
By now, I’m annoyed and hateful. Are any of them even women?
You should have made me a Gray or left me human.
All I know is that I am a woman, I have my period, and there is going to be hell to pay… either by the Grays or the Men in Black.
****
Fortunately for them, the Grays take me back.
Martin M. Black sits in a sedan outside a research facility at the Norfolk military base, where he brought “my body.” The Grays substituted one version of me from a parallel universe, essentially a clone of the same alien/hybrid stock that I once contacted though occult ritual. It was my fault for opening the portal and allowing for this. I’m curious and dabble where I shouldn’t. Why shouldn’t I? The Grays do, yet it creeps me out that there are other versions of “me.” Only I have my heart and my soul, because I fell in love. I have a right to pursue this. The Grays don’t have a right to interfere. They overstep the bounds in all worlds, playing god with beings while manipulating evolution. For what, I do not yet know. Perhaps it has always been that way.
The research facility is named The National Weather Monitoring and Atmospheric Science Headquarters. Yeah, right. They are interested in more than the atmosphere such as what comes down from it. Surrounded by a nine foot tall chain link fence and barb wire, the ominous four-story brick structure is guarded by two marines with M-16s and German Shepards. One big male canine with black markings on his ears turns my way and whines. He then sniffs the air and wags his tail, though a little nervously. I telepathically coo to him.
Its okay, puppy. You are such a good boy.
His handler, a muscular African American in combat boots and fatigues raises his gun and peers into the distance. The dog loses interest. He smells the ground and then lies down. His ears turn to gauge my movement and then he whimpers.
I’m close by. While in the shadows, only four feet from his car, I see Martin reviewing a file on Genevieve Grayson. I wonder what he is doing outside of the main gate in the parking lot. Slouched in his seat, he stares at my picture. He is the only being, human or otherwise that I have ever liked looking at me. He once touched me deep with his intelligent eyes, probing me with compassion and longing. I needed him to find me again, though not today.
So handsome with his dark hair flecked with gray, he has a regal bearing, and he has his feet planted firmly in duty and justice toward the human race, of which I do not belong. I feel his pain, and I want him to succeed even to my detriment. He thinks he destroyed me per government order. I will tell him otherwise. I have returned to deal with him however I choose.
He notices a beeping on the laptop sitting beside him. I hear him suck in startled breath. He is confused. His fingers mash the keys, trying to find an error. He knows that I have returned. The “other” had no implant, no government tracking. I do. His aura turns red. I sense it.
I can’t help my impish smile as I merge with the shadows.
Chapter 2
I dream of a world where my skin peels gray. Skinny hands reach for me as we prepare to fly over the earth. The spaceship pulsates in radioactive light. Time and space don’t exist for me. Matter is ruled by thoughts. I never have to run or hide because I am one of a unit, complete in every way. I am free of earthly desire.
Alas, that is a dream. My skin is olive, my eyes green, and my hair is blond. I am a hybrid, and I’m already in your world. There’s nothing you can do about it. Look at me. I’m walking down the boulevard on my way to Starbucks at the mall on my day off from my job. Jittery clientele never notice my large eyes, my long slender arms. I blend in almost perfectly, copying the trends, the expressions, and the language. After all, we don’t exist. Do we?
Vieve.
I hear them. The Grays call me, Vieve Grayson, part alien, part twenty year-old nanny for the chief of homeland security, Donald McCullough. Go figure. I’m careful. The Grays had him hire me, without knowing he was coerced. He travels home from Washington on the weekends to Norfolk to be with his family. They welcome me, and I embrace them with my long, skinny arms. I watch over my charges with my hypnotic eyes.
Telepathic voices reach me like a static hiss. I shut my eyes and listen. UFO researchers are already starting to realize that we are real. The Grays know my human side makes me reckless. They fear I will get caught.
Don’t let them find you!
I know, I tell them. I kick at the loose rocks on the pavement like an insolent youth. A few, I push with my mind. I tumble them over and over.
Before I reach the coffee shop, I stop in the parking lot to reattach my stocking to my garter belt. It keeps coming undone. Then I cover it with my plaid skirt. Paying close attention, a black Blazer inches up behind me. It was him, my nemesis and my unrequited lover, Martin M. Black. His mouth fell open when he saw my creamy flesh bared above my thigh. Though he grips his Glock, he thinks of me as a woman beneath my miniskirt and not the pulsating consciousness in my veins that may or may not be human.
I sneer at him and go on my way. He swerves into the parking space in front of me, and then jumps out. In his black suit and shades, he lunges toward me, hand on weapon. Almost six-feet tall, he towers over my five-four frame. Dark hair suits him; after all, he is a MIB. I feel his complex emotions vibrating off of him. I long to merge with him and make him forget his dilemma.
“How did you find me?”
“Government implant behind your ear,” he said, “It contains GPS monitoring.”
I fear he wants to shoot me. I’m not a danger. Can’t he see that?
“What do you want, Martin? I’m not making crop circles or probing anyone.”
“You don’t belong here.”
“Where? At Starbucks? Starbucks is taking over the country faster than any alien culture.”
He is not amused. His eyes narrow and he grabs my arm.
“I don’t know what trick this is…”
“What? Trying to kill me? Maybe you need to right a wrong…and apologize too.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”
“Whatever. You wanted me in a cage for experiments then. The Grays want me for experiments of their own. I don’t want that either.”
I see a hint of emotion in his eyes. Please let it be real. I want to bathe in it.
“You can’t be here.”
“I pay taxes.”
“Go home, Vieve.”
I can’t contain the pain that those words cause me. My lip quivers.
“I am home,” I tell him, raising my head in defiance. I had every right to be in this world.
Martin glances behind him, and then he pulls me against his Blazer. His pale face leans close to mine, and he tastes my lips. I quiver at the kiss. He lingers there, gliding his tongue across my bottom lip. Then his hand strokes my thigh and teasingly unsnaps my stocking. It falls. He likes to think he can get the best of me.
Then he says, “Be human all the time or don’t be here at all.”
I’m not sure what that means, but I nod. I push away from him and go to get my coffee as I fix my stocking. Besides, I’m still peeved at him.
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