Grumpy Alien King by Celeste King
Aeron
“I’m telling you, this is a bad idea,” I said to Walker as he banked ourflying car to land on a parking garage roof in downtown Nashville.
“You always say that, Aeron,” he replied without turning around. Wilkinson busied himself with eating an Area 51 chicken sandwich. Every time I saw the guy, it seemed like he was eating one.
“How’d you even get that?” I asked, watching him wolf it down. We hadn’t stopped anywhere remotely close to one of their restaurants.
“I get them specially delivered to a drop-off location, but I have a stash at the station,” he mumbled between bites.
“You’ve got a problem,Those things can’t be good for you.”
He shrugged and stuffed the last itty bit into his mouth. Then proceeded to lick his fingers like he was desperate for more, which wouldn’t surprise me. The guy was always hungry.
As we drew closer, Walker slowed down a little, then expertly landed our vehicle on the roof. I reached over him and pressed a few buttons,converting it for road driving.
“Wilkinson has a bunch of problems,” Walker said in a snarky tone, his reponse a little delayed.
“You being the biggest,” Wilkinson retorted
“Fair.”
Ignoring them, I settled back into my seat in the rear of the car, shaking my head. I didn’t like this and thought the whole thing was trouble.
Ever since I left the military, I’d been working public relations, and had been feeling good about that decision especially since I landed the job on the highest-rated talk show in the galaxy, What the Cluck with Samantha.
If you had been living under a rock for the past ear—or just on Earth—), you might not know who Samantha was.
To begin with, she was a genius and I meant that sincerely. She had found a way to bridge the gaps between species like no other being ever had. It was remarkable, and it was thrilling to be a part of.
Samantha booked Intergalactic warlords on her show as guests and by the time she was finished working her magic, they would weep. No kidding. Seriously. Just fall apart, talking about their mothers, the pets they had loved growing up.
A few cultural critics suggested Samantha may be more responsible for our current state of peace than any other being in the galaxy and I couldn’t agree more.
One more thing, I suppose, it was important to remember: Samantha was a chicken. An Earth chicken. Not that there are many chickens living it up outside the green and blue planet.
Long story short — Samantha had gotten involved in a plot by a reality tv host to take down the Kaleth and our allies once and for all. She turned out to be so telegenic, she was given her own talk show.
No one expected it to be the hit it was, but people couldn’t get enough of her. The ratings were through the roof. No matter the species, or race, or eating habits, beings across the universe just loved her.I was on her staff, and damned proud to be. I had always been a fan of show business, but my life had revolved around being a pilot for the armed services. Changing careers was something that crossed my mind at the time, but eventually the post grew stagnant. That’s when I saw an opening for Samantha’s show, and right then I knew it was a sign for me to move on.
Leaving my old life behind was a risk that I had been willing to take, and turns out it was the best decision I had ever made. I took some PR classes, and within a lunar cycle I got a job interning on What the Cluck.
The hours were rough, but no one was more glad to be there than me. In the short solar I’ve worked here, I learned so much about the business: How to properly put a show together, what Samantha expected of her team (she preferred ‘team’ to ‘crew.’ She thought ‘crew’ sounded demeaning, so smart), and how to book and prep guests for the show.
In time, I worked my way up the ranks, going from an unpaid intern to an employee on the payroll. Samantha was kind, everyone thought so, but she was also tough, and she expected results. This made staff turnover fairly high. Probably the highest in the business, but I wanted to learn everything I could and stuck it out What’s more, it didn’t take long for Samantha to take a real shine to me. She absolutely dug my work ethic, and what my attitude brought to the place. And as it turned out, I also had a talent for sniffing out the best guests for Samantha to interview. Adding that to my repertoire advanced my career a good chunk too.
Having the fame that Samantha had gave her a lot of leeway. She had a particular style and it wasn’t suited for just anyone. As one of her top employees, it was vital that I was picky about our guests.
So when her personal assistance asked me to go to Earth with Walker and Wilkinson, of course I said yes. Though admittedly, at the time, I was rather stumped. Who on Earth was worth being on Samantha’s show? Was it another clucky chicken? As it turned out, some human security officer saved her boss’s life in a random attack at an Area 51 chicken joint. It sounded talk show worthy, but I didn’t know how this was going to work. Generally, humans had no knowledge of the world beyond their own, and the folks at Gamma base did everything they could to make sure it stayed that way. Not that I blamed them. Humans were oddballs.
“Don’t sweat it,” Walker had said to me when he first picked me up. “We’ll bring her out, explain what’s what, do the interview, and then we can flash her memory so she doesn’t remember a thing.”
Sounds easy, but flashing alien brains was never a simple thing. Sure the tech was reliable, but each species reacted differently. There was no guarantee that this particular human would even forget. Though for our sake, I hope it would.
“I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as that,” I said, only to have Walker wave his hand at me.
“You worry an awful lot for an ex-pilot.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m an ex-pilot.”
“Could be,” he said, chuckling.I mulled his words over in my head, hoping he was right. After a smooth landing, our car zipped out the parking garage, my holo-suit keeping my Kaleth heritage from human eyes.
“I already called her offices,” Wilkinson said. “She’s expecting us.”
“What was her name again?” Walker asked.
“Juliette Pryor,” I reminded him and pulled up her profile on my datapad and showed it to him. “Former special forces soldier, currently works as private security. Only one client at present, Adrienne Mitchell, heiress to the Area 51 chain.”
“Maybe she could hook us up with more of that chicken,” Wilkinson said eagerly, smacking his lips and I rolled my eyes. Didn’t he just finish eating?
“Maybe. If you don’t creep her out.” I said.
“Me? You’re the horned, blue and silver alien masquerading as human. You’re worried about me creeping her out?”
“Good point,” I conceded. Then again, nothing will matter once we flash her memory.
The car whipped through the busy streets like any other human vehicle on the road, except ours was a shuttle that was also capable of space flight. Lights blinked in every direction, people mulling about. I had never been here before and was disappointed we wouldn’t be staying long enough for me to explore.. It looked like a fun place to unwind, and it had been a while since I had any.
Eventually, after driving through the colorful city for a while, we arrived at Ms. Pryor’s office and parked our vehicle. Entering, it was a simple, but clean space — a desk, a couple of chairs, one filing cabinet and posters all over the walls.
Juliette was sitting at her desk when we walked in, and stood on our entrance, her brown hair flowing around her shoulders from the movement.
“Hi there,” she said, extending a hand after making her way over. “I’m Juliette Pryor. Are you the crew from the talk show?”
I reached out to take her hand in return. Wilkinson told me of the off Earth custom on the way over.
“That’s right, Ms. Pryor. We’re from What the Cluck with Samantha. You may not be familiar with it.”
She started saying something in response, but I stopped listening when our hands made contact. A jolt of energy shot through me and a strange warmth spread through my chest.
Oh my...She can’t be... can she?
“Are you all right, Mister...?” I heard her say and Walker nudged me, snapping me back to reality.
“Pardon me. Yes, sorry. Aeron. Feel free to call me Aeron,” I managed to get out. I caught Walker and Wilkinson sharing a glance over my shoulder.
“Aeron. Ok. Call me Juliette.”
“You bet,” I said with a squeak.
“As I was saying, I don’t think I’m familiar with your show,” she said.
“Makes sense,” Walker said. “And there’re gonna be some other you won’t be too familiar with either.”
Juliette gave us all a quizzical glance.“Like what?”
“Ms. Pryor,” Wilkinson began, “from what we understand, you were in special forces. As such, you must have seen some strange things in your time.”
Juliette cocked her head slightly, and moved to her seat behind the desk. She motioned for the tree of us to sit. I glanced at the chairs speculatively, unsure whether they could handle our weight, but ultimately decided it was rude to just stand around.
“Well, sure.Some odd things, but soldiers see a lot of weird stuff when they’re overseas out on a mission. Everyone knows that.”
“I’m sure you have,” he replied, shifting in his seat “Let me ask you this — did you happen to see anything weird yesterday? During that attack you foiled? There’s footage all over the internet. Some of it... well, people are saying some strange things.”
Juliette nodded, biting her lip. There was an odd look in her eyes, and I immediately knew that she had seen more than what she was probably wanted to share.
“You could say that. I saw... well... I know this must sound insane, but I think I saw a human turn into a... a...”
“An alien?” Walker asked calmly.
“How did you know that?” she asked, shock lining her face as her brows drew up in surprise.
“What would you say, Ms. Pryor —”
“Juliette.”
“Juliette. What would you say if I told you it was an alien? That multiple extraterrestrial species exist and that...” Walker trailed off, looking over at me and I frowned at him. Why he looked in my direction was beyond me. It’s not like I was well versed in breaking the news to humans.“...and that What the Cluck with Samantha is the highest rated talk show... in the galaxy. And the host, Samantha herself —”
“—imagine Oprah, but a billion times bigger,” Wilkinson interrupted. “But not human.”
“Not like ‘bigger’ bigger, more like popular. I think Oprah looks great. Gayle, on the other hand —” Walker added. “And yes, not human.”
“I think she got it,” Wilkinson retorted,
“I’m just clarifying. You can be vague.”
“Samantha herself has requested you to be on her show,” I finished, giving the two of them a bit of side-eye that I hoped would shut them up. This was going to be tricky enough as it was. Even more so now that...I shook my head slightly and ignored that line of thinking.
Juliette looked at all of us with a blank, even expression. And I couldn’t help thinking how damned beautiful she was. Honestly... maybe the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.
“You want me to be a guest on an alien talk show. Hosted by Samantha who also isn’t a human…” her voice trailed off as she became lost in thought. Then she perked up and demanded “What kind of species is she?”
“She’s a chicken,” I replied, trying not to stare at her.
I expected her to laugh us out of the room and call the local police. Instead, she nodded slowly.
“Sure. I’ll come play Star Fleet with you.”
“You sound a little skeptical,” I said, unconvinced by her statement. We need a willing guest for the show, not one who thinks we all belong in some galactic asylum.
“Well.” Standing up from the desk, she pulled a holstered gun from a drawer and strapped it on.“Adrienne gave me a couple days off after what happened yesterday, and I don’t like time off. I don’t really believe any of this is to be true, but I’m willing to see what’s what. Besides, it could make a good story, if nothing else.”
Walker turned to Wilkinson and me with a grin, but I still wasn’t sure.
“I like this one. Don’t you... Aeron?” he said a little too knowingly. I narrowed my gaze at him.
‘This one’ has a name and if you call her ‘this one’ again, you’ll find out why I’ve won the sharpshooter competition in my training class three years running.” Her voice was cool, calm and collected, but deadly as the weapon she had on her hip, even in its primitive form.
Walker gulped, nodding agreeably..“Sounds goodWe’ll, ah... go wait by the car.” He and Wilkinson backed out of the room.
As soon as they left, a smirk pulled at Juliette's lips, grabbing my attention.
“I’m sorry about them. They mean well, but can be a little...”
“Strange, offensive?” Juliette offered.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“It’s all good. I’m used to men like that. Well, not one’s claiming to be aliens, but I’m sure you get my meaning.”
We looked at each other for a moment, and something passed between us. A crackle of attraction. The very air around us thickened with tension.
“Well,” she said, cocking out a curvaceous hip and giving me a crooked smile, “take me to your leader.”
