Touched by an Alien

building was quite large and had a big gate at the end opposite from where Martini and I were. The last SUV was arriving as we walked in. I could see the other cars and the limo parked in a formation that made it seem they were ready to race off at any moment. There was a huge sliding door in front of the cars, which I assumed was how our little motor pool would exit the building gracefully.
    “Dammit,” Martini said under his breath.
    White had spotted us and was striding toward us, looking furious. “Where the hell have you two been?” he snarled as he got within earshot.
    “I almost broke an ankle in that dome thing,” I said before Martini could answer. “Plus I didn’t want my mother to see me looking like I’d been hit by a bus. I blackmailed Martini into taking me home first.”
    “Blackmailed? What, you offered to let him kiss you?” White asked, not seeming convinced or appeased.
    “No, but that’s a good one I’ll save for later. I told him I’d have my father send the Marines over to the real crash site.”
    “You have no idea of the risks you just took,” White sputtered.
    “I think I do. There are a few superbeings in control of the human to superbeing and back again merry-go-round, and they want to take over. I’m identified as able to stop them, so they want to kill me. However, unless being an in-control superbeing means you become an utter moron, which I doubt, they know damn well I’m with you all now. Which means they have less than no interest in my apartment, since it’s hard to hold a couple of guppies and a Siamese fighting fish hostage. Besides,” I added as White seemed to be calming down, “I think I can run and fight a lot better dressed like this. I might be less cranky this way, too.”
    “I doubt it,” White muttered.
    “Where’s my mother?” I looked around but didn’t see her. Didn’t see any women other than me, actually. White didn’t answer. This crew had a real issue with lying effectively or even believably. Good to know. They might be fast, but humanity still had the edge in con artistry. “Well?”
    “They aren’t back yet,” White admitted.
    I managed to remind myself that his son was, presumably, the other part of the “they” who weren’t back along with my mother. I wasn’t reassured. “Where are they?”
    “We believe they’re still in New York.” White looked uncomfortable.
    “What do you mean, you believe ?” I tried, but I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice.
    “It means they got into trouble,” Martini said softly. “We’re going, right now,” he said to White. “Her, me, James, and Paul. You stay here in case the others get back before we do.”
    White didn’t argue. Martini grabbed my hand, and we started to run to the limo, but at human speed. “Who’s actually in charge around here?” I gasped out.
    “We have a situation, so that would be me,” Martini said in a clipped tone. “Moving out, Alpha Team, now!” he shouted at Gower and Reader, both of whom were standing by the limo.
    Reader and Gower ran toward a smaller gate I could now see was near the carport area. “Not taking the limo?” I asked as we followed them. I could see Gower making calibrations.
    “No time. We’ll get a car when we’re there.” Martini, still running, swung me up into his arms. Reader went through the gate, then the two of us. As I was flinging my face into Martini’s neck, I saw Gower moving behind us.
    Then the horrible whooshing feeling followed by the jolt of arrival. Martini opened the stall door and put me down. We were indeed in the men’s room at what I assumed was JFK, and it was full.
    Reader was there, looking as though he was trying not to laugh. Gower stepped out of the stall we’d just vacated. “Great,” I heard him mutter behind me.
    The men’s room occupants who weren’t part of our little team were, to a man, staring at us with a mixture of horror, embarrassment, and fear on their faces. I reminded myself that Martini and Gower couldn’t lie, and Reader was too busy trying not to crack up. It was up to me. Again.
    “Gentlemen, thank you so much!” I started to applaud. “You’ve helped us get a great scene for the new reality series, Life With A Former Male Model,” I pointed to Reader. “Our production assistants will be here in a couple of minutes with release forms. If all goes well, you’ll see yourselves on television in a few months! And, we will allow you to review footage to make