"Ma'am, you're not supposed to remove grocery carts from store property."
Sydney stood silently. She was still recovering from the nerve shattering chirp of the siren that had sounded as the police car pulled up next to her. The siren was now off, but the red and blue lights still strobed hypnotically.
"You realize that it's basically theft, right?" The cop glared at her like she had just been busted robbing a jewelry store.
"I was going to bring it back," she finally squeaked.
"You say that now, but that store has had a number of carts go missing lately."
Sydney tried to imagine what the officer must be thinking. That she was hoarding shopping carts in her bedroom? Selling them for scrap? Maybe there was some shopping cart black market she didn't know about. Gangs of cart thieves would whisk them away to chop shops where they could be broken down and sold for parts. "I... I only live a couple blocks from here. I don't have a car. I'll bring it right back."
The officer sighed. It lacked the fluency of someone more versed in the language. "Technically, I should haul you down to the station."
"Please don't. Please... I..." This was a disaster. She might be hours at the police station. The aliens would move on to a new candidate, and she would be left here, on Earth, dying of cancer. She looked at the cart through blurring vision, absorbing the enormity of her mistake. Would thirty years of hot pockets and soup really have been that bad?
"Ma'am, are you OK?"
"I'm sorry... it's just... since the chemotherapy I can't really..." Words evaporated. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.
"It's OK, ma'am. You just need to take the cart back to the store. Here, load your bags into the back seat of my cruiser. I'll drop you home."
Sydney lifted bags from the cart as the police officer opened the back door of his car. They moved all the bags, and she began pushing the cart back as he drove ahead. Briefly, she considered ditching the cart to run back to her apartment but quickly discarded the idea. She hurried and was out of breath by the time she arrived at the cart return.
"Where do you live?" the officer asked as she climbed into the back seat next to her groceries.
"Just up the road. The big red brick apartment on Clifford."
"I know the one." They drove on in silence.
A block from her apartment, he cleared his throat, then said, "I was just thinking, that hardware store on Meyer Avenue... they sell these nice little two wheel carts with a long handle. Sort like one of those wheeled suitcases, but with a metal cage. That would work pretty well for hauling groceries around."
"Um, thanks. I'll look into that."
More silence. They pulled up to her apartment building.
"This is it," she confirmed. She began dragging her bags from the police cruiser.
"Let me help with that."
"It's OK, really. There's an elevator. I'll be fine."
"It's no trouble. I want to make sure you get to your door OK."
Sydney felt a sliver of panic stabbing at her. She took a calming breath and forced a smile. "Sure. Thanks."
They rode the elevator in silence, her with the backpack and two grocery bags, him with four bags, cloth handles doubled up in each hand. She led the way to her apartment, hoping he would put down the bags and leave as soon as they reached the door. He didn't. She took her time unlocking the door. He lingered. Finally, she swung the door open.
She had forgotten there were aliens waiting in her apartment.
Business Suit Alien looked up from the sofa where he was sitting with Zoe in his lap. "You are seven minutes beyond your designated return time," he announced.
"Ha," was the only thing she managed to say. She feared it might be a preamble to hysterical laughter.
"You have also brought a human companion," Casual Alien observed. "That is not compatible with current project parameters."
It felt like her stomach was doing somersaults. "Oh... you guys. You're such jokers. I thought you would have left for the party already."
"I am unaware of any celebration." Casual looked at Business Suit as if his companion had been holding out on him.
Sydney turned toward the police officer. "These are my old college friends... Jim and, um, Bill," she explained. "They were about to leave for a costume party at MIT."
The officer stepped into the room and set down the bags, he leaned close to Business Suite Alien, peering at his face from only inches away. "That's really good. Do you go to Comic-Con? I might have seen you there."
The aliens looked at each other but said nothing.
"If I could suggest something, though, I would go more traditional. You know, gray skin, big black eyes." He turned to Sydney. "You agree with me, right?"
Sydney started to answer, but noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Casual Alien was starting to transform. Gray patches were growing across his skin, and black dots were forming in his previously vacant eye depressions. "No!" she shouted. "No no no they should definitely stay the way they are. Definitely." She stole a glance at Casual and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his original pale mannequin form.
The officer looked bemused. "It was just a suggestion."
"Yes, well... it... wouldn't be canon. They can't wear the outfits from that episode without matching all the details perfectly." She wasn't sure where she was finding the words, but they seemed to satisfy him.
"I get it. My nephew is a stickler for authenticity." He turned to the aliens. "Have fun at your party, gentlemen. Stay out of trouble." He gave a friendly nod, turned, and headed out the door. Sydney quickly shut and locked the door behind him.
"There is no time for celebration," Business Suit declared. "We are already well past our original launch window. We can not afford additional delay."
She turned back toward the sofa and leaned against the door. "Yes, I know, no time for partying. But I had to tell him something to explain why you look... like that."
They looked at each other, gaze sweeping from head to food. Casual turned back to her. "We made great effort to emulate human physical characteristics. We find it reduces emotional stress during interactions such as these."
"Well, points for effort, but you're really lacking in the attention to detail department. You don't even have eyes for goodness sake."
"Our earlier attempts were more detailed, but they evidently retained subtle flaws that humans find unsettling. These approximations have received fewer complaints."
"Ah yes, the Uncanny Valley. That makes total sense."
Business Suite tilted his head. "We are unfamiliar with this term."
"It's an issue in video game development and computer animation and such. Basically, people get wigged out by things that look almost but not quite human. Something more abstract or cartoonish is the better way to go. Of course you do look a bit like low budget Doctor Who aliens, so you've got that working for you."
"Fascinating," Casual replied. "This phenomenon could have its roots in evolved social bonding behaviors. It would be a useful topic for further study."
"Research of that type is not part of the current project parameters," Business Suit interrupted. "We need to begin low level targeting scans in preparation for matter translation and transfer to the spacecraft."
"Matter translation. Is that like a Star Trek transporter?"
"The comparison is not fully inaccurate."
Sydney thought about how transporter technology was described in Star Trek. All the molecules of the body being torn apart, converted to energy, beamed across space, and then reassembled into a new copy of the same person. The characters in the show took it in stride, but she found the idea terrifying. "So, you guys don't have a shuttle craft or something like that we could use instead?"
"That would not be feasible in this situation," Business Suit assured her.
"Well, OK... if that's the way it has to be. Go ahead and start your scans."
The aliens looked at each other for several seconds, then turned back to her. They sat silently, looking at her.
"You can start your scans any time," she told them.
"We have already begun low level scans," Business Suit assured her.
"Oh. OK then."
They sat silently for several minutes until Casual Alien finally spoke. "You can call me Bill if you like."
"Say what?"
"You called us Jim and Bill when the other human was here."
"Yeah, that was just... don't you have real names of your own?"
"Our names cannot be translated into your language."
She chuckled. "That is so like something an alien would say. In fact, It's basically a cliché. Anyway, you're Jim, not Bill."
Casual tilted his head. "You are certain of that?"
"Definitely. You're Jimmy Buffett. He's Bill Gates."
Casual managed to give her a curious look with his blank, mannequin face.
"It's the clothes. Jimmy Buffett is a musician that... oh never mind, it's not important. How long do these scans take?"
"We are almost ready to begin matter translation," Business Suit replied. "Your feline companions should be close to you during the translation process as well as any items you wish to bring with you."
"How close is close?"
"The high resolution translation field will be slightly larger than one meter in diameter. Anything requiring full translation accuracy should be within that radius."
"OK then, I'll keep my feet tucked in. I don't want to end up being... inaccurate."
Sydney scurried about the apartment, first putting away the groceries, then collecting up the few personal items she couldn't part with. A small photo album, her father's old slide-rule, a can of pebbles and shells she had collected as a child, the cats' favorite toys. She put these in her backpack, then added her laptop, her Android tablet, and a stack of USB external hard drives containing over twelve terabytes of data she had downloaded over the last week. Finally, she got the cat carrier from her closet, plucked Pixel from the laundry pile where he had been sleeping, and stuffed him securely into the carrier.
"And that just leaves you, Zoe" she said as she walked over to the sofa. Business Suit lifted the cat from his lap and handed her over. Zoe complained but began purring as soon as Sydney clutched her to her chest. "You are a total snuggle monster, aren't you."
"It is time to prepare for matter translation," Business Suit informed her.
Sydney put on the backpack, set the cat carrier in the middle of the living area, then sat on top of it. She pulled her feet in close and clutched Zoe tightly. "I'm ready. Let's get this over with."
The aliens looked at each other. They looked at her. Nothing happened for several long seconds. Then something... a flicker in her peripheral vision. She turned and saw faint blue lightning crawling along one of the walls. It snaked its way across her bookcase. It reached the TV, and suddenly sparks shot from the screen up to the ceiling. More blue lightning was appearing around the room. The overhead lights began to pulse and flicker, then sparks rained down from the light fixture.
"Guys, is this supposed to be happening? I think something is very wro..."
Everything went black.