First Contact at McDuncan's by Lily Lachance
The Korlqar Empire's invasion of planet Earth does not go as planned when they make first contact with the world-weary manager of a fast food joint.
The arrival of the Korlqar Empire's armed emissary went utterly unnoticed at McDuncan's, partly because it was three in the morning, partly because the staff were all quite used to weirdos, eccentrics, performance artists, influencers, aspiring comedians, and other dregs of society. Truth be told, the tall, bald, gray-skinned, male-presenting individual wearing a cloak and making a scene in the lobby didn't even stand out.
"Take me to your leader!" he roared in an odd but not unusual accent, waving what looked to be a Dollar Store toy blaster - all streamlined and bright-red.
"Yeah, sure, sir, whatever," sighed Latitia, the intrepid cashier and survivor of seven armed robberies. She spared one glance to the visitor's strange - not car, exactly, but some sort of flat vehicle - that inconsiderately took up four parking spots. She shook her head in disapproval before walking to the back office.
"Pete? There's somebody here to see you," she said as she leaned into the dark and cluttered tiny office.
An inarticulate groan was the only response. She nodded, smirking.
"Right this way, sir," she waved at the irate visitor, showing him the way to her shift manager's abode. Whatever happened next was not her problem.
The stranger marched forth with his chin held high. His bald scalp shone in the reflected phosphorescent light. His pompous, ceremonious walk was cut unexpectedly short when he reached the manager's office a mere five steps later. He scowled at the lack of decorum. The sharp teeth he revealed didn't look like anything that had evolved on Earth: rows upon rows of tiny bone daggers lined his mouth. Having thus expressed his displeasure, he stepped into the office.
"Cower before me, Earthling!" he shouted, and the walls themselves trembled. "I am here on behalf of the mighty -"
"Welcome to McDuncan's, home of Duncan McDuncan," said the soulless, monotone, listless voice from the darkness, interrupting his much-rehearsed ceremonial announcement. "How can I make your experience better today?"
The invader stopped, frowned, tried to keep from gasping. He'd spent years honing his command shout. Every vertebrate on this pathetic planet should have soiled itself and surrendered after the first three syllables. Who was his strange opponent? What matter of creature was he? Was this indeed the mightiest of humans, the overlord of this blue planet?
The cluttered little office was filled with boxes of supplies, with reams of paper, with assorted garbage and detritus of many previous managers who'd come and gone like overgrown fruit flies. In the furthest depths, in front of a giant derelict computer monitor set on a wobbly tower of plastic crates, there, on a fraying secondhand office chair, sat an indifferent young human. His skin looked like it hadn't seen the sun in weeks. There were large dark circles under his eyes and premature gray streaks in his uncombed brown hair.
The visitor stared. The young human - or "Pete," as the cashier had called him - stared back. The silence stretched on.
Finally, Pete the human sighed.
"Is this about the ice cream machine again? If so, please call the corporate number, sir."
The stranger frowned. What diabolical misdirection was this? It didn't match any of the rhetorical counterattacks from the 209 civilizations the Korlqar Empire had conquered.
"I... I, um..." he stuttered before composing himself and straightening up. He pointed his blaster at the leader of this planet. "I am here to demand your unilateral and unconditional surrender, in the name of the Empress!"
The echo of his shout dislodged several square pieces of paper glued to the walls. And even so, the human was unharmed, unimpressed, undefeated. What manner of creature was he?
"Ahh," Pete the Human Emperor said, nodding slowly and eyeing the blaster. "Look, sir, we went cashless a while back now. There's nothing here worth stealing, even if you had a real gun." He shrugged and turned back to his monitor, presenting his back to the visitor in a gesture of utter and blatant disregard. "But if you want, Latitia can give you the address of the nearest homeless shelter. They accept folks all night."
The alien emissary took a step back. Stared at his blaster. Waved it at the human's back. His opponent resumed typing on his primitive data entry device, refusing to resume the conversation.
"What matter of creature are you?" the invader said at long last, unable to believe this was actually happening. His voice shook. "Why are you... Why are you like this?"
The typing stopped. Pete the Earth Overlord lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose for several long moments before replying.
"Because I happened to major in Philosophy and graduated at the very beginning of this recession and because there was nothing else. Because there was only this. Because here I am, and this is what I've become, and nothing really matters aside from the next batch of orders and the interest on my student loans. Because sometimes even the absence of growth may pass for warm comfort. Because the veritable infinity of possibilities can get compressed into one tiny black hole, one which you may never escape. Simply because."
The alien's hand quivered, then shook. He lowered his blaster, for he no longer wanted to kill Pete the Ruler of Humanity. No, he wanted to learn from him, wanted to strike an alliance on behalf of the Empire, wanted to understand more of this strange and dark school of thought that didn't match anything in the known universe, not even the sentient singing rocks of Perseus Beta.
And, he had to admit to himself, he was scared. He was scared of this vastly indifferent creature that ignored the time-tested command shouts, that disregarded the most powerful weapon within a dozen light-years, that sat through this whole interaction without so much as an increased heartbeat. The alien tried again.
"What... What material rewards does your position entail? My people can match them. More than match them! What's the cost of the human soul?"
Pete the Leader of Humans glanced at him sideways through the tangle of unruly hair. "Seven dollars and twenty-five cents an hour. Twelve dollars an hour and unlimited overtime for the likes of me." He grinned without much humor. "But if you're with the Burger Emperor people, thanks but no thanks. I've got healthcare here and I'm not going to leave my crew behind."
The alien frowned. He didn't know who this Burr-Gher Emperor was, but if there was another star empire at work, and one that had apparently reached Earth a while ago, then the Empress must know at once! His conquest mission, one he'd been so proud of just an hour earlier, no longer mattered - no, the very survival of his empire could be at stake. He turned without saying a word and ran full speed back to the lobby, past the bored cashier (an undercover spymaster, no doubt), into the empty lot beneath the pale stars, to his -
He froze where he stood. His starship. His beautiful, pristine, immaculate, interstellar starship. It was gone. Gone without a trace. A masterpiece of his people's engineering, made of exotic alloys harvested from the cores of extinguished stars, equipped with cryptographic defenses that no lesser species could hope to crack in a million years - and it was gone. Utterly, completely gone.
He fell to his knees and sobbed. What was wrong with this planet? Why had the Empire's intelligence service failed so badly? What the hell was he dealing with here? How would he ever get home?
His blaster fell by his side. It wouldn't be good for much longer, in any case. It had to be charged up every four hours or the antimatter cartridge would dry up. The charging dock was in the spaceship. Everything was in the spaceship. He had nothing left - nothing but the ceremonial cloak on his back. He was an utter, irredeemable failure. He wept.
Footsteps approached from behind. A cloud of toxic smoke floated by his face, setting off a coughing fit. This must have been Latitia the Spymaster, here to execute him via chemical attack. He deserved nothing less.
"Your ride got stolen, huh?" she said, and there may have been the tiniest hint of sympathy in her tired voice. "Yeah, this is a bad neighborhood, man. Shouldn't have left something so shiny out here at 3am."
"How? How could they do that?" he asked in between the sobs.
"Oh, they've got their own fake tow trucks and everything. Straight to the chop shop." Yet another cloud of toxic smoke floated toward him, lowering his life expectancy even more. "What they can't take apart, they melt down. What they can't melt down, they dump in their crib to show off, know what I mean?"
He did not, in fact, know what she meant. Those strange words meant nothing to him. All he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that he was outmaneuvered, outsmarted, defeated, and humiliated. He could never show his face back home. The Empress would have to deal with that strange new Burr-Gher Empire all on her own. He cried even harder as he thought of his people's future.
"Hey now. Calm down. It's not so bad, you know?" Latitia the Silver-Tongued said as she put her hand on his shoulder. Her rings glittered in the faint light. "It was just a ride, not the end of the world. Here, why don't you come inside and we'll get you cleaned up? You got a job? Because we've got an opening if you wanna join us."
The failed conqueror looked up at the confidante of the human who had managed to outwit and outmaneuver him. Perhaps, if he were to work alongside them and learn their ways, he could eventually earn enough of their trust to get valuable intelligence on the Burr-Gher Empire. Maybe there was still hope for him, for the Empress, for his people.
The alien stood up and gave a deep ceremonial bow, trying not to cough as more of the smoke reached his face.
His interlocutor giggled. "You're so weird. I like it, though. Come on, my break is almost over. And hey..." She turned to regard him, her face suddenly serious.
He looked back, awaiting her orders, her decision, or maybe even some secondhand wisdom from Pete the Overlord of Humanity.
"Yes?" he finally asked, his shaky voice breaking the silence.
Latitia the Truth-Bender smiled. "Welcome to McDuncan's."
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"Take me to your leader!" he roared in an odd but not unusual accent, waving what looked to be a Dollar Store toy blaster - all streamlined and bright-red.
"Yeah, sure, sir, whatever," sighed Latitia, the intrepid cashier and survivor of seven armed robberies. She spared one glance to the visitor's strange - not car, exactly, but some sort of flat vehicle - that inconsiderately took up four parking spots. She shook her head in disapproval before walking to the back office.
"Pete? There's somebody here to see you," she said as she leaned into the dark and cluttered tiny office.
An inarticulate groan was the only response. She nodded, smirking.
"Right this way, sir," she waved at the irate visitor, showing him the way to her shift manager's abode. Whatever happened next was not her problem.
The stranger marched forth with his chin held high. His bald scalp shone in the reflected phosphorescent light. His pompous, ceremonious walk was cut unexpectedly short when he reached the manager's office a mere five steps later. He scowled at the lack of decorum. The sharp teeth he revealed didn't look like anything that had evolved on Earth: rows upon rows of tiny bone daggers lined his mouth. Having thus expressed his displeasure, he stepped into the office.
"Cower before me, Earthling!" he shouted, and the walls themselves trembled. "I am here on behalf of the mighty -"
"Welcome to McDuncan's, home of Duncan McDuncan," said the soulless, monotone, listless voice from the darkness, interrupting his much-rehearsed ceremonial announcement. "How can I make your experience better today?"
The invader stopped, frowned, tried to keep from gasping. He'd spent years honing his command shout. Every vertebrate on this pathetic planet should have soiled itself and surrendered after the first three syllables. Who was his strange opponent? What matter of creature was he? Was this indeed the mightiest of humans, the overlord of this blue planet?
The cluttered little office was filled with boxes of supplies, with reams of paper, with assorted garbage and detritus of many previous managers who'd come and gone like overgrown fruit flies. In the furthest depths, in front of a giant derelict computer monitor set on a wobbly tower of plastic crates, there, on a fraying secondhand office chair, sat an indifferent young human. His skin looked like it hadn't seen the sun in weeks. There were large dark circles under his eyes and premature gray streaks in his uncombed brown hair.
The visitor stared. The young human - or "Pete," as the cashier had called him - stared back. The silence stretched on.
Finally, Pete the human sighed.
"Is this about the ice cream machine again? If so, please call the corporate number, sir."
The stranger frowned. What diabolical misdirection was this? It didn't match any of the rhetorical counterattacks from the 209 civilizations the Korlqar Empire had conquered.
"I... I, um..." he stuttered before composing himself and straightening up. He pointed his blaster at the leader of this planet. "I am here to demand your unilateral and unconditional surrender, in the name of the Empress!"
The echo of his shout dislodged several square pieces of paper glued to the walls. And even so, the human was unharmed, unimpressed, undefeated. What manner of creature was he?
"Ahh," Pete the Human Emperor said, nodding slowly and eyeing the blaster. "Look, sir, we went cashless a while back now. There's nothing here worth stealing, even if you had a real gun." He shrugged and turned back to his monitor, presenting his back to the visitor in a gesture of utter and blatant disregard. "But if you want, Latitia can give you the address of the nearest homeless shelter. They accept folks all night."
The alien emissary took a step back. Stared at his blaster. Waved it at the human's back. His opponent resumed typing on his primitive data entry device, refusing to resume the conversation.
"What matter of creature are you?" the invader said at long last, unable to believe this was actually happening. His voice shook. "Why are you... Why are you like this?"
The typing stopped. Pete the Earth Overlord lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose for several long moments before replying.
"Because I happened to major in Philosophy and graduated at the very beginning of this recession and because there was nothing else. Because there was only this. Because here I am, and this is what I've become, and nothing really matters aside from the next batch of orders and the interest on my student loans. Because sometimes even the absence of growth may pass for warm comfort. Because the veritable infinity of possibilities can get compressed into one tiny black hole, one which you may never escape. Simply because."
The alien's hand quivered, then shook. He lowered his blaster, for he no longer wanted to kill Pete the Ruler of Humanity. No, he wanted to learn from him, wanted to strike an alliance on behalf of the Empire, wanted to understand more of this strange and dark school of thought that didn't match anything in the known universe, not even the sentient singing rocks of Perseus Beta.
And, he had to admit to himself, he was scared. He was scared of this vastly indifferent creature that ignored the time-tested command shouts, that disregarded the most powerful weapon within a dozen light-years, that sat through this whole interaction without so much as an increased heartbeat. The alien tried again.
"What... What material rewards does your position entail? My people can match them. More than match them! What's the cost of the human soul?"
Pete the Leader of Humans glanced at him sideways through the tangle of unruly hair. "Seven dollars and twenty-five cents an hour. Twelve dollars an hour and unlimited overtime for the likes of me." He grinned without much humor. "But if you're with the Burger Emperor people, thanks but no thanks. I've got healthcare here and I'm not going to leave my crew behind."
The alien frowned. He didn't know who this Burr-Gher Emperor was, but if there was another star empire at work, and one that had apparently reached Earth a while ago, then the Empress must know at once! His conquest mission, one he'd been so proud of just an hour earlier, no longer mattered - no, the very survival of his empire could be at stake. He turned without saying a word and ran full speed back to the lobby, past the bored cashier (an undercover spymaster, no doubt), into the empty lot beneath the pale stars, to his -
He froze where he stood. His starship. His beautiful, pristine, immaculate, interstellar starship. It was gone. Gone without a trace. A masterpiece of his people's engineering, made of exotic alloys harvested from the cores of extinguished stars, equipped with cryptographic defenses that no lesser species could hope to crack in a million years - and it was gone. Utterly, completely gone.
He fell to his knees and sobbed. What was wrong with this planet? Why had the Empire's intelligence service failed so badly? What the hell was he dealing with here? How would he ever get home?
His blaster fell by his side. It wouldn't be good for much longer, in any case. It had to be charged up every four hours or the antimatter cartridge would dry up. The charging dock was in the spaceship. Everything was in the spaceship. He had nothing left - nothing but the ceremonial cloak on his back. He was an utter, irredeemable failure. He wept.
Footsteps approached from behind. A cloud of toxic smoke floated by his face, setting off a coughing fit. This must have been Latitia the Spymaster, here to execute him via chemical attack. He deserved nothing less.
"Your ride got stolen, huh?" she said, and there may have been the tiniest hint of sympathy in her tired voice. "Yeah, this is a bad neighborhood, man. Shouldn't have left something so shiny out here at 3am."
"How? How could they do that?" he asked in between the sobs.
"Oh, they've got their own fake tow trucks and everything. Straight to the chop shop." Yet another cloud of toxic smoke floated toward him, lowering his life expectancy even more. "What they can't take apart, they melt down. What they can't melt down, they dump in their crib to show off, know what I mean?"
He did not, in fact, know what she meant. Those strange words meant nothing to him. All he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that he was outmaneuvered, outsmarted, defeated, and humiliated. He could never show his face back home. The Empress would have to deal with that strange new Burr-Gher Empire all on her own. He cried even harder as he thought of his people's future.
"Hey now. Calm down. It's not so bad, you know?" Latitia the Silver-Tongued said as she put her hand on his shoulder. Her rings glittered in the faint light. "It was just a ride, not the end of the world. Here, why don't you come inside and we'll get you cleaned up? You got a job? Because we've got an opening if you wanna join us."
The failed conqueror looked up at the confidante of the human who had managed to outwit and outmaneuver him. Perhaps, if he were to work alongside them and learn their ways, he could eventually earn enough of their trust to get valuable intelligence on the Burr-Gher Empire. Maybe there was still hope for him, for the Empress, for his people.
The alien stood up and gave a deep ceremonial bow, trying not to cough as more of the smoke reached his face.
His interlocutor giggled. "You're so weird. I like it, though. Come on, my break is almost over. And hey..." She turned to regard him, her face suddenly serious.
He looked back, awaiting her orders, her decision, or maybe even some secondhand wisdom from Pete the Overlord of Humanity.
"Yes?" he finally asked, his shaky voice breaking the silence.
Latitia the Truth-Bender smiled. "Welcome to McDuncan's."
from FICTION on the WEB short stories https://ift.tt/SmfbyHA
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