Let's clarify the situation.
Selena
eyed the craft floating down from the darkened sky towards them, descending
with silence. “That’s a flying saucer.”
“Yes
ma’am.” Thompson was more interested in the stars overhead.
“Technically,
it’s a collection pod. The Monsuda used it to collect lab subjects among your
people. Anneliese was one of those.”
Arga’s
words drifted past Selena, mattering little as she watched the circular object
send down the central portion of its flat bottom to nestle in the sawgrass. She
watched the spacecraft, but strangely enough, her attention riveted on the
warmth his body radiated. Warm, self-armoring flesh, capable of fending off the
bites of toothy reptiles. He stood next to her, his woodsy scent clean and fresh
compared to the briny vegetation aroma exuded by the marsh.
Realizing
she was far too aware of the alien man, of not only his scent but all those
delectable swells of muscle within grabbing range, Selena focused on the things
that should have been uppermost on her mind. “I’m not crazy? Not hallucinating?”
“Afraid
not. This is as real as it gets,” Thompson assured her.
“And
you expect me to get in that, go with you to Rushmore—”
“Risnar.”
Arga’s tenor rumbled pleasantly in her ear.
“Risnar,”
Thompson echoed.
“Risnar.
And help you stop a hostile alien invasion of Earth.”
“Affirmative.”
“By
exploding shit.”
“Bingo.”
“Uh-huh.
You know, I have the chance to go to Vegas. I’ve been invited to explode shit
there.”
No release date set.
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