FFM13: Help from the Stars

Her crater was no bigger than one of the stores just off the square. The girl who fell from the sky was even smaller than we were. She could have rode comfortably on the back of my cat, Mr. Death Machine, if he didn't possess an intense hatred of having his back touched. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. The fever was starting to get to me.

She was humanoid, but only just, and her body glowed like an ember. Her skin looked like melted copper. To be honest, I wasn't sure if she was a she. Her body seemed to curve in vaguely feminine ways, but what did I know about aliens? I felt my gut twist. Tom would have known what to think, but he was in bed and getting worse. It wouldn't be long now.

It took her two minutes to climb out of the crater. When she neared the top, she stopped to stare---as though she couldn't decide what to make of me. She had three eyes, blacker than anything else I'd seen. No eyelashes or eyebrows though, but it didn't make sense for anything made of rock to grow hair. It was weird enough she had eyes. It was weird enough she was here and that I wasn't running away. Wasn't that how you were supposed to react to meeting an alien? You were supposed to run or try to shoot it.

Maybe the fever was making me brave. I was still in the early stages. Soon I'd be bedridden like Tom. Soon there wouldn't be anyone left to bring water and what remained of the medicine. Maybe I was already dead. I was glad I'd spent the extra for the cat door. At least that way, he wouldn't be trapped inside with nothing to eat but me.

"Hell," I said, "Are you real?"

She tilted her head to the side, waiting. Her eyes flickered. Words raced across the surface. My words, I realized. I could barely make them out, they were so small.

"If you are real," I said, "hello. You picked a bad time for a visit, but you're welcome anyway."

"I am real," she said after a long pause. Her voice was halting, stilted, and tinny like air passing through a flute. She climbed the rest of the way to the top, seemingly satisfied. Whatever she'd been looking for she must have found. She stopped, her hand raised at me as though to block out the sun.

I didn't move. I decided to pretend it was because I didn't want to startle her. I didn't want to think about the headache starting at the back of my eyes. There was no one left to feed my cat. He was so particular about the placement of his bowls and when he wanted his wet food versus his dry food.

"You are infected," she said. She lowered her hand.

"We're all infected," I said, "I said you picked a bad day."

The light inside her intensified. I felt a flash of heat and my headache faded. The fever faded, leaving me cool for the first time in days.

"Did you just---" I stopped. There was no point in asking. I felt better. I felt healthy. Somehow, for whatever reason, she had cured me.

"The day improves," she said, "But there is still much to be done. Now, take me to your leader."