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  He scrapes his oversized utensil along the edges of the container and places the last spoonful into his mouth. Unfortunately for Papa Nutmare, Shattered Blanket then moves on to eating the six hardboiled eggs sitting in front of him.

  “Can’t you just eat bacon and scrambled eggs?” Papa Nutmare asks.

  “Bacon? Hell no. That shit’s terrible for the body.”

  “But it’s delicious.”

  “Says you.”

  “Oh no, you don’t get to rip on bacon. Bacon is literally the greatest food in the world. Everybody loves it.”

  “I literally just said that I don’t eat it.”

  “You may not eat it, but you do like it. There are plenty of people who foolishly don’t eat bacon for religious or vegetarian reasons, but all people like the taste. Sure, there are morons on team fatty and the geniuses like me on team crispy, but nobody dislikes the taste. It’s the only food I can say that about.”

  “You finished with your bacon commercial?”

  “I am, but now I need to go get some bacon.”

  “Okay, but first let’s talk about the shows for this week.”

  “What about them?” Papa Nutmare asks.

  “We can’t keep pushing all of Mother’s buttons,” Shattered Blanket says.

  “The hell we can’t. That bitch looks down on us as an entire species. That doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “You look down on everyone. On this show I’ve literally heard you refer to people as colored, beaners, dot people, feather people, auggies, poofters, fatties, uglies, and pretty much every other disparaging term I can think of.”

  “Yeah, and you know I don’t mean any of it. I just say it to get the shock value, hence our profession. It’s all in good fun, and I let the haters call me out on it.”

  “Just so you can make fun of them.”

  “My point is that I’m just harmless fun. That bitch truly believes we’re sub-human, so I have to dedicate everything to her until she leaves.”

  “What makes you think she won’t hear your comments and decide to attack the planet?”

  “I doubt she’s a listener.”

  “Don’t joke about this. I’m scared of these aliens,” Shattered Blanket asserts.

  “Jason, if I had that much sway over her, we’d already be dead. I’m trying to be a little slice of normal for any listeners who are having problems with the Malignant. That bitch showed up on television once and everyone acts like she’s Mother Nature and not just some bitch with a common title. She isn’t going to do anything. I think these Malignant just like to tease us and fly away. Then they laugh as they watch us like a reality show.”

  “Really? Do you really believe that? Even after seeing Gallery kill a bunch at her concert or the reports on the Malignant kidnapping people?”

  “It doesn’t matter either way. If she plans on killing us, I doubt even the Templars can stop her. If she doesn’t, I’ll be able to have a bunch of ‘I told you so’ shows when they leave again. I’m not gonna change, and I hope I can count on you to be there with me.”

  “Of course, you can. Just don’t push her buttons too much. If you really want to keep the show as a normal escape for people, we need to target the celebrities, politicians, and Templars whom we usually go after.”

  “Fair enough. Now did somebody say something about getting some bacon?”

  “You know that was you.”

  “True enough, and since I’m the boss around here, I guess we need to find a diner that’s actually open.”

  “You just got into work.”

  “Yeah, and there aren’t enough people here to scream at us if we leave for a second breakfast. The show may be normal, but the business rules around here have changed for the better.”

  “Alright, go get your precious bacon.”

  “You’re driving me.”

  “I already ate.”

  “Just come on.”

  Shattered Blanket crams his last two eggs into his mouth and speaks as he chews. Bits of yolk and egg white spill from his lips onto his keyboard.

  “Fine, lead the way.”

  “That’s disgusting, man.”

  Keith and Jenny hold hands as they walk through the park on Fort Chamberlain near her home. The air is warm, and Keith gladly takes advantage of her spaghetti strap top to shift his arm to drape around her shoulder and caress her exposed skin. Keith can feel Jenny’s excitement from the physical contact.

  “You’re so bad,” she says.

  “You can’t hate me for trying,” he says.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t go out for dinner, but I don’t feel like waiting for two hours to get food.”

  “I hear ya. My parents and I waited forever at Captain Crawdaddy’s last week. Barely any places have enough workers to manage the crowds.”

  “It seems like more people are trying to go out more, too. More people and less workers.”

  “I guess everyone is trying to live life to the fullest in our final hours.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jenny scolds. “I want to stay positive.”

  “I do, too. It was just a bad joke. Is there anything that we can do? We’ve lapped this park at least a dozen times at this point. We can still find a dark corner, and I can show you this thing I can do with my tongue.”

  Jenny’s phone chimes before she can answer. She quickly glances at the screen despite Keith’s annoyance with the action, and her face lights up.

  “Speak and you shall receive,” she says as she shows the phone to Keith.

  He reads the text, Party at my house starting now! Keith looks at the name of the sender, Percy.

  “Percy’s having a party?” Keith asks.

  “Apparently.”

  “Does he normally announce them last minute like this?”

  “Sometimes. It’s the new thing around here. Plan a party, commit to it, then announce it to everyone else.”

  “What if someone else has a party?” Keith asks.

  “That’s the whole point. It establishes the cool hierarchy. If people come to your party, you win the night.”

  “Does Percy at least bring it?”

  “Always. C’mon, let’s go and see it.”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like it could be a bust.”

  “You won’t know until you go.”

  Keith hesitates.

  “His parents have a sex swing,” Jenny suggestively says.

  “Why do you know that?”

  “I don’t, but it got you intrigued. What do you say we confirm if the rumor is true or not?”

  Keith finds himself listening to a less intelligent part of his body and nods.

  “Why not?” he says. “What else is there for us to do?”

  “Good.”

  “Unless,” Keith says as he slides his hands underneath her shirt toward her bra.

  Jenny bats his hands down.

  “Stop. Kids play out here.”

  She leads Keith by the hand to the car her parents loaned her. Keith, with slumped shoulders, allows her to pull him along.

  Benji endures a lonely Monday night patrol in a police cruiser. He watches as the sun slowly goes down. With every turn of his car he sees more and more of the signs that tonight will once again require riot gear. Benji sighs as he considers how few police officers are available for that. His people are constantly exhausted, and he knows that he pushes them too hard. He has no other solution. Captain Hallsey pushes him, and he sends the pressure down the ranks.

  Benji looks at protestors who hold signs indicating their outrage with the Malignant. He smiles to himself at how pathetic poster board is compared to an alien fleet. He isn’t sure if the protestors are brave or imbeciles, but he suspects the latter.

  Benji turns his car down a street with copious boarded up build
ings. Their presence indicates the high degree of people giving up. A flicker of a light inside one of the abandoned pawn shops catches Benji’s eye. His intuition urges him to park his car along the sidewalk in front of the small, aging building.

  Benji grabs his hand microphone. “Control, this is Adam Twelve. I’m checking out Otis’ Pawn Shop on Chandler Boulevard.”

  “Roger.”

  The single word response brings a new wave of melancholy to Benji. Even the support staff are worked beyond their limits, and most radio procedures have relaxed as an adverse effect. Benji replaces the microphone and exits his car.

  He pulls out his flashlight and baton as he looks through the window. He notices a light shining from the inside before quickly vanishing.

  Here we go, Benji thinks.

  He wiggles the handle of the door and finds that it’s not only unlocked, but damaged. The door easily pushes open. Benji steadies his nerves and walks inside the dark room lined with shelves of abandoned goods. He slowly works his way over to the front counter and instantly realizes what he doesn’t see. These counters usually have the jewelry and handguns. The smashed in glass and scattered trays are clear indications to what burglars took first.

  Benji gets the sudden sensation that someone else is in the room. He feels the cold metal of a .38 pistol pressed against the back of his head.

  “Don’t move, pig,” a man whispers.

  Benji realizes the situation he’s in and briefly lambasts himself for not paying sufficient attention to his surroundings. This takes less than a moment. Benji also comprehends that if a pistol is pressed against his head, it’s most likely a scared person without experience. A professional wouldn’t stand so close. Benji soon proves why this is a fact.

  Benji whips his right hand in a wide arc as he turns his head. His arm wraps around his attacker’s arm, and his flashlight in his left hand connects with the man’s face. The attacker fires belatedly into the glass container, but misses Benji completely.

  The two men wrestle as three more shots erupt from the diminutive pistol. Benji slams the hand against the broken glass of the container, and a rather large shard stabs into the attacker’s knuckles. He yelps and releases the pistol. Benji pushes the man away and pulls his own pistol free of its holster. Benji levels it on the wounded attacker.

  “Drop it!” another sinister voice says.

  Benji looks over his shoulder and sees three more individuals, all with pistols aimed at Benji. Benji looks back at the original attacker and sees the man debating with whether to reach for the dropped pistol.

  “I said ‘drop it’ and I meant it,” the man repeats.

  Benji briefly considers shooting his way out, but knows that Claire would never forgive him. Before he can lower his weapon, he hears automatic shots. The unexpectedness of the shots frightens him, and he instinctively fires, too. His bullet strikes the wounded attacker in the knee, and the man rolls on the floor as he screams his pain and frustration.

  Benji turns to focus on the three robbers behind them and sees they’re all dead. This is when he realizes that the shooters were outside of the store, but they’ve now entered it.

  “Keep that weapon in a safe direction,” the leader of the unexpected reinforcements says.

  Benji is aware that the six men have fully automatic weapons aimed at him, but he doesn’t sense hostility. The wounded attacker screams as he rolls around, but a bullet from one of the rescuers ends his life.

  “Shit!” Benji screams.

  “Calm down, we’re done here. We can all leave or we can shoot it out, but I’m sure we both have other places to be right now.”

  “You’re all under arrest,” Benji says, but not even he believes it.

  “Listen, we’re with The Enterprise. The powers that be say we must keep the peace, so that means we don’t kill cops today. Please don’t make me break that rule. We’ve got your back, and the only reason we fired was because we knew it was them or you.”

  “Well, I appreciate that, I guess, but you still murdered them.”

  “We’re gonna leave now. You could probably get one or two of us when our backs are turned, but then you’ll die, too. Why don’t you go back to the office and take a break? We’ve got it under control right now, and that includes any riots that may break out again. Give your people a rest.”

  The leader turns his back on Benji. The others see that Benji levels his pistol on the man’s back, but they lower their weapons and follow him out. Once they leave the building and are out of sight from the window, Benji allows himself the moment to control his shaking hands and raging adrenaline. The Enterprise just saved him; the only feeling he has is gratitude.

  Keith and Jenny enter Percy’s home. The boy lives off post in the nearby town, and the square footage of the home indicates his parents’ wealth. Apparently, Percy is the night’s winner for attracting partiers. There’s standing room only in the entryway to the home. The kitchen and living room are likewise densely packed.

  Keith spots Mason and Sherry in the corner of the living room. He leads Jenny through the throng of teenagers to speak with his friends.

  “Mason, what up?” Keith says as he holds out his hands.

  Mason turns and grabs Keith in a pound hug.

  “Damn, Percy got it on point if he can drag your sorry ass out here,” Mason jokes.

  “Hey, Sherry,” Keith says as he hugs Mason’s date.

  “Hey, Keith, good to see you again,” Sherry answers.

  “What?” Keith yells over the music.

  Sherry speaks up. “I said good to see you.”

  “Oh,” Keith says, “you, too.”

  Mason moves closer to Keith as Sherry and Jenny begin their own conversation.

  “Your parents are really letting you stay here all alone?” Mason asks.

  “I’m not technically alone. My dad goes back and forth between Colberton and here. I see him at least once a week.”

  “Yeah, but mostly you have an empty house. Last time you had that, I heard things got awkward.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Keith admits.

  “Well, at least you finally got some.”

  “Yeah, but the past few days have led to a lot more. I think I may have unleashed the freak in Jenny. I’m working her up to naughty time in the park.”

  “Be careful what you wish for, man. You do have to go home eventually.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asks.

  “Nothing, man, forget I said anything. You want a beer?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Your loss.”

  “You ready for your senior year?” Keith asks.

  Mason shrugs. “I guess. Honestly, I wonder if there’ll be enough teachers there to help me get my learn on.”

  “I hear that. It seems like most people have just given up. They seem to forget that this isn’t the first time we’ve seen a spaceship.”

  “True.”

  “Plus, the Templars must have kicked the last guy’s ass because we’re still here.”

  “Maybe, but no Templars have been seen since they left last week for outer space. Mother, on the other hand, is around. That can’t be good.”

  “Yeah, well, that one ship eclipses the moon. I don’t think we have enough on our side to take the whole thing out. Just have faith in the Templars,” Keith says.

  He turns to face Jenny as he feels a tug on his shirt.

  “What?” Keith asks.

  “I want to introduce you to our host,” Jenny says.

  She indicates a frail teenager in a motorized wheelchair. The young man holds out his hand for Keith to shake.

  “So, this is the guy you’ve told me all about? You’re a lucky man to have this kitten purring over you.”

  “Thanks,” Keith says as he shakes Percy’s hand, unsure
of the pet name. “I’m Keith.”

  “I know, just as I’m sure you know I’m Percy.”

  “Jenny may have mentioned that,” Keith admits as he pushes his discomfort aside.

  “She does like to talk, doesn’t she?” Percy says as he grabs Jenny by the hips and pulls her in for a hug.

  “Damn it, Percy, stop doing that,” Jenny complains, and Keith is glad she does until he hears the rest of her statement. “I lose my balance and look stupid every time.”

  “Don’t worry, kittens always land on their feet,” Percy jokes.

  Keith searches Mason and Sherry’s faces to confirm this is normal behavior, and he’s allowing his paranoia to get the better of him. Sherry ignores his glance and laughs along with Jenny. Mason’s facial features suggest a future conversation is needed with either him or Jenny.

  “You got something to say?” Keith whispers to Mason.

  “Nah, man, no comment. She’s just a fun person. You know how she gets.”

  Keith pushes the thoughts out of his head.

  “Football be damned, maybe I will take that beer.”

  “My man,” Mason says. “You got a preference?”

  “Nope.”

  “Something red it is.”

  Mason and Keith make their way to the keg located in the kitchen. Keith allows himself a glance at Jenny and sees her infectiously laughing along with everything that Percy has to say.

  Claire looks sympathetically as Larry attempts to run the studio equipment with a skeleton crew of university students. Her once amazing job seems destined to fall apart around her, but she cements her opinion to report until asked to leave this world and perhaps even beyond. She thinks of Benji having Gordon summon her from beyond the grave to give reports to her still living audience. The thought forces her to smile.

  “Perfect,” Larry says, “we’re rolling.”

  Claire is caught somewhat unaware, but she quickly regains her composure and begins to report for the evening’s airing of The Intrepid Reporter.

  “Good evening, I’m Claire Kennedy, and I’m still here. I want to open with that because it’s important. I’m still here, and so are you. I also know in my heart that the Templars are still watching over us, too. There are a lot of people out there giving in to their fear of the unknown. Probably a lot of the same people who dismayed last year when the sky turned green. I point to that example because if it was such a bad omen, we wouldn’t be here to share in each other’s company this evening. I had my team of interns go over some interesting facts about the last few weeks. I think it’ll be therapeutic for us to review the data together and turn it into useful information.”