Making the Galaxy Great

“You know, when you’re a reporter, people are always telling you they have the scoop of a lifetime,” said Brian Furrow as Jason handed him a bottle of Buster’s beer. “But you actually did. I mean, shit, a real alien. That’s way better than another member of city council grabbing his intern’s ass. You know, the station’s website got 170 million hits in the first two hours after we posted that footage? Cheers.”

They were in the living room of Jason’s house, watching professional football on a Sunday afternoon, just as they might have done on any Sunday in October before the world found out about aliens. Jason handed a third bottle to Evie, who took it and then gave Jason a full-on mouth kiss that had Brian gaping jealously.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she said. “For lying to me. First, it was a drug gang. Then it was government corruption. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? I mean, how cool is that? Fucking aliens.”

Jason shrugged. “And you would have believed me? Besides, they told me if I said anything to anybody they’d either make me disappear or erase part of my mind. And it really did involve government corruption, in a way. Several governments. And McCauley’s mother was probably the most corrupt of all.”

“I don’t want to talk about McCauley,” said Evie. Jason sat on the couch and she put her bare feet on his lap. “I know she turned out not to be a bad guy, but I still don’t like her. And I think she had a thing for you.”

Brian’s eyes gleamed. “Whatever became of the lovely Agent McCauley, anyway?”

Jason frowned inwardly. Why did Brian feel compelled to call her the lovely Agent McCauley, when just her name would have sufficed?

“I haven’t heard from her since Kuh-Re made his announcement,” he admitted. “She disappeared in all the chaos. I hope she’s okay.”

“Dude, she can kick anybody’s ass,” said Evie. “Why are you worried about her?”

The front door started to open. “That’ll be Shelby,” said Jason. After a pause, he added: “And Candice.”

“Hey, sweetie, you’re just in time,” called Evie. “Your dad’s commercial should be coming up during the next break. The first quarter’s about to end.”

Shelby dropped her weekend bag on the floor and jumped onto the sofa next to Evie. Candice walked into the room and stood behind the sofa with her legs slightly apart and hands crossed, as if trying to cast a shadow over the rest of the group.

“I guess I’ll stay and watch, too,” she announced, though nobody had asked.

“Have a seat, Candy,” said Brian, who got up from the chair he’d been occupying.

Candice quickly took the chair and smiled broadly at Brian. “Thank you, Brian. At least one of Jason’s friends is a gentleman.”

Jason shot a glance at Evie, whose eyes bulged out as she blew air into her cheeks. “I’m definitely not a gentleman,” she whispered.

“Amen,” he responded.

The quarter ended, music played as the score appeared onscreen and everyone turned their attention to the TV. They had to wait through an underwear ad and another for a heartburn drug. Then an image of a jelly-bean shaped spacecraft appeared onscreen, landing in a parking lot in front of a convenience store. A door opened in the craft, and an Yrrean stepped out and walked toward the store, past a couple of human customers who whispered excitedly to each other as they stood by their car. The scene switched to the inside of the store, where the Yrrean frantically searched the refrigerated cabinets until finally spying a single six-pack of Buster’s beer.

“This is the fourth store I’ve been to, trying to find this,” the alien told the diffident clerk at the counter while handing him a Galaxy Express card.

“You’re the fourth alien who’s come in here looking for it tonight,” said the clerk.

The Yrrean walked back to the spacecraft carrying the six-pack, then turned and winked at the camera. A voiceover announced: “Buster’s Beer. Worth the trip.”

Jason and Evie high-fived each other.

“I’m so glad we fired that shitty agency and just let you write the commercial,” said Evie. “Oh, sorry Shelby.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t heard it from mom and dad about a million times.”

“That alien actress is a natural,” said Brian. “Who is she?”

“Name’s D’roya,” said Jason. “But D’roya’s not a her, or even a them. Remember, they only have one gender. And by the way, D’roya was actually at the Oasis Mission the day you were there. Now D’roya’s got an agent and a movie contract. I think Marvel wants D’roya to be their newest superhero.”

“Yeah, D’roya decided not to get surgery to look human because she — it, they, whatever — can make a shit ton playing aliens,” added Evie.

Brian stood and put on his jacket. “I guess I’m not the only one whose career took off because of you and your alien adventure, Jason. Speaking of which, I’ve got to go. I’m flying to DC to cover some committee hearings about alien patents, or something like that. Then I’m going to Chicago because there’s some sort of anti-alien march there on Wednesday. I don’t know — if it has anything to do with aliens, the network sends me. But it was great being back in town and seeing you guys. Shelby, take care of your dad.”

“I will,” said Shelby.

“We both will,” said Evie.

“I’ll bet,” grumbled Candice.

A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Jason sighed and stood up. “Look around and see if Brian left his phone.”

But when Jason opened the door, it wasn’t Brian. Instead, a middle aged man in a dark blue suit with graying hair brushed straight backward strode confidently into the house, followed by two men in black suits with earpieces.

“Dad, it’s the President,” Jason heard Shelby say.

“Yes, we can see that, honey,” said Candice. She reached out a hand to pull Shelby back, as if Shelby might be mistaken for a terrorist and taken down by the President’s bodyguards. But the President grinned and clasped his hands together.

“That’s right, young lady. I’m glad to see our young people keep up with current events.” He walked into the living room, spun around slowly and stared at Jason. “Are you Fleming?”

“Yes, Mr., umm, President. Welcome,” Jason said slowly. There was no point in inviting the President into the house since he’d already entered. “This is a great . . . surprise — I mean, honor.”

Jason was almost as nervous as when he’d faced Mr. Brown. The President hesitated for a moment. His lower lip protruded dramatically and his eyes narrowed as he appeared to contemplate his next move. He always seemed so large and imposing on TV, but in person he was no taller than Jason, his complexion was splotchy, and the only thing even slightly imposing about him was his own conspicuous self-regard.

“Would you like to sit down?” asked Evie.

Jason gritted his teeth as he saw a huge and not altogether innocent smile on the President’s square face as he turned to Evie. He held out his hand to her. “Ah, you must be another one of Fleming’s daughters? Delighted to meet you.”

Realizing that his complete failure of manners had led to an awkward moment, Jason jumped in. “Actually, this is my—”

“I’m the former Ms. Fleming,” said Candice, intercepting the President’s hand. “Candice Prater.”

The President shook her hand, then once again reached toward Evie, with a confused look on his face. “So you are . . .?”

“Evie Sheldrake. I’m Jason’s — Mr. Fleming’s — girlfriend.”

Jason could feel the split-second, sidelong glance from the President, as if someone had just flashed a laser pointer at him. “Ah, a pleasure. And thank you, but I can’t stay. I just came here today . . . I wanted to talk with you, Fleming. To convey . . . I mean, to tell you that your country needs you. Actually, our new galactic federation needs you.”