Read Cooter (The Extraterrestrial Anthology, Volume III: Reír) Page 2


  “Not true, my friend.” Hitler remained where he stood, not trusting the alien gravity or his body’s reaction to it. “What about the Bygarions, the Wrrrrgth, the !san!, the fffrrel? ”

  Feeling more confident since nothing yet had tried to eat him, Bon Jovi tried hopping from foot to foot, just for the fun of it. “The Bygarions are more careful than we are. They don’t leave their ships, they just send scouts. The Wrrrrgth stay primarily under water. Human’s don’t have the ability to sense the !san!, and the fffrrel look just like them.”

  “So then we’re the only ones the humans have noticed.”

  “Yes. Humans still believe they are the only sentient beings on Earth. Humans are bipedal. Therefore they assume that non-bipedals are non-sentient. There is a certain simple, elementary logic to it.”

  “Simple is right,” Hitler said. He activated his anti-grav system, and rose high into the air. “Whoooa!” he exclaimed, and turned it down until he hovered just off the ground. At last, he was ready to explore. And collect. Hitler picked up a stone and turned it over a few times in his hand. He opened his invisibag to drop in the specimen.

  “No way, Jose,” Bon Jovi said sharply. “You heard the rules. No souvenirs.” He turned his attention to a nearby pine tree.

  “It’s a simple mineral aggregate,” argued Hitler.

  “You don’t know that. We don’t know this planet. We don’t know what humans hold sacred or valuable.”

  “It wouldn’t just be lying all around if it was valuable,” Hitler argued. “You saw the films. You know how humans are with gold and oil…”

  “You can’t believe everything you see in the media,” Bon Jovi said. “And another thing— we don’t know what might be sentient. That ‘mineral aggregate’ might be self-aware.”

  “Self aware? You must be joking.”

  Bon Jovi extended a long finger and touched the rough bark of the tree. “So all of a sudden you’re an expert on all life forms on Earth?”

  “No,” said Hitler, “but I’m also not the one thinking that a mineral aggregate is self-aware.”

  “This planet hasn’t been fully catalogued and categorized.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t get too close to that life form. I think I saw it move.”

  “It didn’t move.” Bon Jovi stepped back, watching the tree.

  “I saw it move,” Hitler lied.

  Bon Jovi walked around the tree, checking for signs of movement. “I’m pretty sure it’s what is called a tree. Harmless vegetation.”

  Hitler floated in sync with Bon Jovi. “You could be right,” he conceded. “Or maybe it’s waiting for you to get in range of its tentacles so it can drag you kicking and screaming into its feeding orifice.”

  ***

  “Classic textbook Grays,” noted Bedford from behind a palmetto. The aliens were about four feet tall, with slightly wrinkled grey skin, long limbs and fingers. Their large hairless heads had faces dominated by huge black eyes, below which were two nostrils and a slit of a mouth. “What are they doing to that tree?” whispered Wallace, crouched behind him.

  “I don’t know,” said Bedford.

  “And why is that one floating and the other one isn’t?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bedford.

  “And why…”

  “I don’t know,” said Bedford. His mind was racing. This time he actually got to see the aliens, not just the damage they did. This time he was recording everything on video—including infra-red and thermal imaging, from several angles, complete with audio. And this time he was accompanied by what passed in Skunkwater County as a credible witness. Still, Bedford needed physical evidence. “We’re going to have to get closer,” he said.

  “Like hell,” Wallace protested. Whatever these creatures were they were not kids from town. He wanted nothing to do with them.

  “The Taser only has a range of fifty feet…”

  Wallace was incredulous. “You can’t Taser one of those things. They’ll kill you. They’ll take you up to their ship and use their anal probes. They’ll turn you into a zombie….”

  “Not if I get them first,” said Bedford.

  “There are two of them. You got two Tasers?”

  “Nope,” said Bedford. “One Taser and one net. You get the net,” he added.

  “A net? A net against critters that can rip my face and my nads off just for the fun of it? They’ll use their ray guns and melt us into a puddle as soon as they see us.”

  Bedford checked the settings on his Taser, wondering how high he needed to set it. “I’m sure they already know we’re here. If they were going to melt us with a ray gun or rip off our nads, they would have done it by now.”

  “How do you know shooting it with that thing won’t make it more powerful? It could grow to ten times its original size. What good is a net going to do then?

  “You gotta stop watching those horror movies,” Bedford told him. In all of the years he had been planning for this moment, he had considered all of the things his brother was worried about, and more. Finally getting proof was worth the risk.

  ***

  Humans.

  “Don’t just project, Hitler. Speak out loud,” said Bon Jovi, still watching the tree.

  HUMANS, projected Hitler again, along with a mind-picture and their coordinates. Bon Jovi started to turn his head. Don’t look at them! Hitler warned.

  It’s what we came here to do, Bon Jovi projected back. He turned and faced the humans, raising his hand in the greeting he’d seen in the instructional units. “Hello,” he said out loud.

  “Oh shit,” Wallace whimpered. “They’re talking to us.”

  Bedford had imagined this moment playing out in a myriad of ways. This was not one of them. He carefully considered his next move, then began to stand up. Wallace desperately tried to drag him back down behind the palmetto. “Hello,” Bedford replied.

  Bon Jovi hesitated, his brain/transmitter interface running quickly through the files of human phrases he had downloaded during the trip. Too quickly. Maybe version 23.6 didn’t have all of its bugs worked out.

  Say something to them, Hitler urged Bon Jovi telepathically. Humans get uncomfortable when there is a lag of more than seven seconds in conversation.

  Bon Jovi blurted out the first phase that he could freeze. “It’s a marvelous night for a moon dance.”

  Maybe not that… Hitler projected.

  “Did he just quote Van Morrison?” whispered Wallace.

  Bedford ignored him. He addressed the alien in a loud, clear voice. “Why have you come here?”

  Answer him, answer him – seven seconds! urged Hitler.

  My phrase download is spinning, Bon Jovi told him telepathically. I think it’s malfunctioning! You do the talking.

  No way, said Hitler. They’re freaking me out!

  Then tell me what to say, said Bon Jovi. My phrases don’t make any sense.

  Hitler told him, Say, “To seek out new life and new civilizations.”

  “To seek out new life and new civilizations.”

  “That was Captain Kirk,” said Wallace. “This time he quoted Captain Kirk!”

  “Nonsense,” said Bedford. “How else would any galactic explorer answer that question?”

  “Then why did you ask it?”

  “Shut up! You know, this is my moment,” Bedford snapped at him. “Why don’t you just shut up and let me handle it?”

  “Then handle it, asshole! You’re supposed to be the expert on this shit! Ask it something smart!”

  Bedford turned and addressed the alien again. “Where did you come from?”

  Tell him “From a galaxy far, far away…” Hitler projected.

  “From a galaxy far, far away,” replied Bon Jovi.

  “Well, duh,” said Wallace.

  Holding the Taser behind his back, Bedford stepped out from behind the palmetto. “Welcome back to planet Earth.”

  “Perfect,” moaned Wallace. “Now offer him our wom
en and our gold.”

  Say, “Thank you,” Hitler prompted.

  “Thank you,” said Bon Jovi. He stepped toward Bedford, while Hitler remained behind him, trying to stay out of the human’s line of sight.

  Bedford leaned slightly to the right, trying to get a look at the alien behind the alien, but Hitler drifted, making it difficult. Tell him to pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, Hitler said telepathically. Bon Jovi repeated the phrase out loud.

  “You’re annoying them,” warned Wallace. “Don’t annoy them."

  “Screw this chit-chat,” Bedford said. “I’m taking one down. Get ready with the net….”

  “No!” cried Wallace, too late. Bedford pulled his Taser from behind his back and shot the lead alien in the chest. Wallace cringed, waiting for what was sure to be a horrific reaction.

  Bon Jovi did not scream, drop, convulse, or inflate. He simply stood still. Hitler floated around him to look at the darts and wires hanging from his companion’s chest. What is that? he asked.

  I don’t know, Bon Jovi said, calmly examining the wires.

  “What’s happening?” Wallace whispered from behind the palmetto, afraid to look.

  “Nothing,” answered a disappointed Bedford, keeping his eyes on the aliens. “Where the hell are you with the net?”

  Bon Jovi did not remove the darts. Do you think it’s trying to mate with me? he asked Hitler.

  They do say that humans are very sexually oriented beings, Hitler mused. Tell it that you are already in a committed relationship.

  “Come on,” Bedford urged his brother. “The net!”

  Wallace shook his head vehemently. “I am not going after that thing with a net!”

  “Then give it to me!” hissed Bedford.

  “No!” said Wallace. He tightened his grip on the net and hunkered further into the palmetto.

  “I am in a committed relationship,” Bon Jovi announced loudly but politely.

  Bedford didn’t hear him. He was struggling to take the net from Wallace who had curled around it like a shrimp and refused to let go.

  I think they’re trying to mate with each other now, said Bon Jovi. He walked toward the humans and watched them curiously.

  Hitler floated next to him. I think you’re right.

  Well, they are probably going to need these, Bon Jovi said. He pulled the Taser darts from his chest and tentatively approached the wrestling men. Where do I stick them? he wondered to Hitler.

  I have absolutely no idea, said Hitler. Try and get their attention and ask.

  Bon Jovi hesitated. I don’t want to interrupt them. That would be rude.

  Obviously they don’t care, or they wouldn’t be going at it right in front of us, Hitler reasoned.

  Bon Jovi turned to face Hitler. That is odd, isn’t it? I’m sure I read that humans mainly do that sort of thing in pri-

  Look out! Hitler warned. Bedford had managed to get the net away from Wallace and he tackled Bon Jovi with it. They both went down. Bedford, having the advantage of not being in a net, got back on his feet.

  Well, this is awkward, said Bon Jovi.

  Hitler for once, was speechless.

  Triumphant at last, Bedford snatched up the ends of the net. He tied them closed with the attached length of rope and began dragging his captive through the woods.

  ***

  Hitler and Wallace were left alone.

  Crap, thought Hitler. I’m going to have to actually communicate out loud with a human.

  “Crap,” said Wallace. He pointed a finger at Hitler. “I’m watching you, alien,” he warned.

  “I am watching you too,” Hitler replied using his transmitter.

  “You stay right where you are,” Wallace ordered.

  Hitler floated in place and tried to think of some way to defuse the situation. “I am sorry that we have interrupted your sexual encounter with your partner,” he said hopefully.

  “My what? That was my BROTHER!” said Wallace, outraged.

  Hitler stared unblinkingly at him.

  “Dudes don’t have sex with dudes…”

  Hitler continued to stare.

  “OK, well some of them do. More than I like to think about, but not with their BROTHERS.”

  “It is considered unwise among bisexual races throughout the universe to procreate with beings that share more than twenty-five percent of the same genetic material,” Hitler agreed.

  “Yeah,” said Wallace. “Wait… what did you call us?

  “Such caution is, of course, irrelevant among mono-sexual and some multi-sexual races,” Hitler concluded.

  Wallace squinted at the alien. “Multi-sexual? You mean people that have sex with men, women and what? Animals? Vegetables? Sofa Cushions?”

  “There are races that have more sexes than just male and female,” Hitler told him. “You don’t have words for them in your language.”

  “Oh, we got words for them alright. There’s…”

  Hitler interrupted him. “Is your companion planning to kill and eat my companion?”

  “What? No. He just wants to…” Wallace trailed off, not entirely sure what his brother wanted to do with the alien. “He wants to show him to some people I guess.”

  “Are these other humans close?”

  “No,” Wallace said. “He’s going to have to drag him home and put him in the pickup and drive him into town.”

  Hitler considered. “Is that going to take long? We only have 6.34 time units left.”

  “It’ll take a couple of hours. Most people are in bed already, and he’ll have to call ‘em and wake ‘em up.” Reality finally began to dawn on Wallace. “I’m really out here really talking to an alien,” he muttered to himself. “And all along I thought that Cooter was full of shit!”

  “Shit,” repeated Hitler. “That is what something called a bear does in the woods?”

  Wallace moved closer. “What did you people want with cow parts, anyway?”

  ***

  “Take me to your leader,” Bon Jovi said, as he was being dragged through Bedford’s cow pasture. The dairy cows parted to allow them passage, blinking their long-lashed eyes with complete disinterest. Bon Jovi was enjoying his first interaction with a human. He hoped his translator malfunction would clear up so the interaction would be more meaningful.

  Bedford had long ago come up with a plan to distribute photographs and evidence should he ever encounter an alien again. ET theorists abound on the Internet and he had a circle of interested friends. Dragging the alien with one hand, Bedford hit speed-dial number 7 on his phone. His friend at SETI did not pick up.

  “Dave,” said Bedford. “I got one. Check your text messages – I’ll send you a photo.” Bedford aimed the phone at the alien, snapped a photo, and clicked SEND.

  Bon Jovi’s pupils contracted at the sudden flash of light, rendering him temporarily blind. He said, “Ask not what your country can do for you….”

  Bedford tried speed-dial number 8—his NASA friend, Andrew. Voicemail again. Why don’t people answer their goddam phones? “Andrew. Got one. Check your texts. Call me.” He clicked send again.

  “I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV….” Bon Jovi offered.

  ***

  Hitler floated slightly backward. “I do not understand your question.”

  “When you came here before and took those cow parts. Cooter saw you,” Wallace said. “That’s why he was out here waiting. He said you’d be back. What is it with you people and anal probes?”

  “Anal probes,” Hitler said knowingly. “That’s not us. That’s the Direllians. Cow parts? Maybe Lorgeesh? They’re vegetarians looking for exotic produce.”

  “Cows aren’t vegetables. They’re animals. Moooooo” Wallace demonstrated helpfully holding his fingers upright from his head as horns. “Sometimes aliens come and take their sex-parts—that’s what Cooter says.”

  Why aren’t you following us? Bon Jovi interrupted telepathically.

  I??
?m conversing with the human, Hitler told him. I’m actually enjoying it. Do you need me to follow? Are you in any danger?

  Bon Jovi was in a net being dragged across a field, bouncing over rocks and animal excrement. I don’t think so, he replied.

  Then leave me alone. Hitler returned his attention to the human. “Coo-ter,” he repeated. “Is that what your companion is called?”

  “Most of the time,” said Wallace.

  “What are you called?”

  Wallace laughed. “Depends on who’s calling me.”

  “Nice to meet you, DependsOnWho’sCallingMe.”

  This alien is too stupid to get a joke, Wallace thought. “No. I’m called Wallace, or Ace.”

  “Nice to meet you WallaceOrAce. My name is Hitler.”

  “Damn,” said Wallace. “We had a guy called that here…”

  “My companion is named Bon Jovi.”

  “We got a guy called that too!”

  “We know,” said Hitler. “Humans can’t pronounce our names with your limited vocal abilities, so we borrow names from your culture.”

  “Well, you might want to return yours,” Wallace told him.

  “I will return it when I leave,” Hitler promised solemnly. “Humans eat animals… how do you know which animals are not sentient?”

  “Are not what?” asked Wallace.

  “Which is the correct human religion?”

  “That’s easy. It’s—”

  “Why do humans make value judgments based on the color of each other’s skin when you are all the same when you are cut open?”

  “What?” said Wallace.

  “Forget I asked,” Hitler said. “Is it true that all you need is love?”

  Hitler. Please come. Now.

  Bedford and Bon Jovi had reached the barn.

  ***

  Using his tracking sensor and anti-grav system, Hitler was able to move directly toward Bon Jovi. Wallace was impaired by ground level interference from bushes, fencing, cow excrement, an owl-burrow, and a general poor sense of direction. Hitler arrived in time to see Bedford sling the net containing Bon Jovi into a large sub-zero freezer. Wallace arrived in time to see the aftermath.

  By the time he got to the barn, Bedford had gone through speed-dials 2 through 12 trying to find someone to brag to about his conquest. Not one had answered. He had sent each of them the photo.