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“Wow, is it five o’clock already? I feel like I’m just getting started. The medication the doctor gave me has really given me a whole new lease on work. Mind if I stay an extra couple hours? I’m just so far behind on these accounts.”
“Alright, but don’t overdo it,” Mr. Rogers says with a wink which I used to find kind of charming, but now seems like the twitch of a psychotic murderer, because it is.
He has left me here many times before. There were some nights I used to work past midnight, so this isn’t out of character for me. The old me. The me he wasn’t trying to murder. Unlike the first day I tried to stay behind, he seems to have lost his fear of me trying to get into his office. Sucker.
“See you tomorrow, boss!” I manage what I consider to be a reasonably human smile, and I think I’ve managed it.
The second after the first hour of him being gone, I go and break into his office. It’s locked, but with one of those locks you can swipe open with a credit card, or a debit card if that’s all you have. I have a credit card. It’s paid off in full every month, but that’s not important right now. It makes his office door pop open like a high school locker.
I’ve been in here before, of course. Somewhere in here, he is hiding the means of communicating with the aliens. I bet its hidden somewhere. It won’t be a book with ALIEN ADDRESSES on it, or anything that simple.
I start going through his desk. There’s a locked drawer in it, which won’t open with a credit card, but does open with a bobby pin. Because the idea of actual security is beyond Mr. Rogers, apparently. He’s just so arrogant it doesn’t occur to him to bother. There are six post-it notes on his computer, and all of them have passwords on them. I could hack his bank account and steal his streaming services if I wanted to.
ALIENS
There’s actually a notebook with that word on it, at the very bottom of the locked drawer. When I open it, I find detailed instructions as to how to contact various alien species via a landline telephone. So that’s why there’s still one in his office.
There’s over a dozen alien details, but I don’t care about any of them. I am looking for one name: Tyrant.
KING TYRANT OF THE CONQUERORS
There it is!
Just seeing his name makes me feel warm and fuzzy, like things might somehow all work out after all. There’s just a number next to his name. According to the instructions at the beginning of the book, I just lift the phone on his desk, the one that is right out of the 1980s, and dial the number.
The call is answered almost immediately.
“What is it, Rogers?”
I never thought I would be so happy to hear Terrible’s voice. He speaks to what he thinks is Mr. Rogers with the same derision he uses to speak to me.
“It’s not Rogers. It’s me. Tania McMillan.”
“Human,” he growls. “You are not authorized to communicate with us.”
“Actually, I am. Because you’re being audited.”
Now I’m lying. Lying for my life. So that makes it okay.
There’s an audible sigh on the other end of the line. Terrible is not happy.
“I’m going to need to come aboard again. Sorry. The DICK are initiating an audit under section six, of the…”
“Human, your life will be at severe risk. I hope you understand that. We are not aimlessly drifting through the universe. We are on a war footing. We have been involved in multiple skirmishes. Lives have been lost.”
It sounds like things are not going any better for Tyrant than they are for me. I hope nobody on his ship is trying to poison him, at least.
“Why have you fallen silent, human?”
“I understand. I also have a professional obligation to ensure that you do not find yourselves audited out of existence.”
It’s not difficult to take a hard, professional tone with Terrible. I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me, which puts us on even footing. It also makes me sound believable.
“I will send a shuttle. Be on the roof of your building in the next hour.”
I can’t stop smiling, even though I know what I’m doing is crazy. I’m going to lose my job, for sure. But that’s okay, because my boss is trying to kill me with cyanide pills, so my employment is hardly stable anyway.
I’m sure King Tyrant will understand once I explain myself to him. I’ll throw myself on his mercy, I’ll tell him the truth, and hope that he takes pity on me. Because that’s how solid, long lasting relationships are formed, right? Out of lies, desperation, and poison?
11 The Return
“Bye, sucky apartment!”
