Chapter Five: Preparations for Takeover

The Changer and the Living Strength make it to D.C. Teddy, Eddie, and the group successfully rescue Patty, but soon have to face the Deceiver. The Saturanians make a detour on Io after being sighted by Plutonians.

 

5: Preparations for Takeover

          Four buses had been traveling down an interstate for an hour and a half, the nearly 200 men contained within them by this point becoming rather impatient, irritated, and even belligerent. The two Earthling drivers were becoming tempted to pull into the nearest exit, but the possibility that they might not remember the way back and the promise of a photo with the Deceiver kept them going. 

          However, the Changer wanted to keep morale as high as he could for as long as he could, and, observing the passengers of his bus getting impatient and inferring that those on the other three buses probably were, too, he made an announcement to the passengers of his bus (and over the two-way radio to the Living Strength’s bus to be passed on to the other two). “I know you’re probably all wondering where we’re going and what’s taking so darn long.”

          From his bus, he heard affirmative noises.   

          “Well, that’s my fault. I forgot to tell you where the infomercial was being filmed, and with all the chaos that ensued after you learned of the photo shoot you’ll get with the lovely young lady who will be there, all of you forgot to wonder. However, now that the thought has crossed my mind, I will not neglect to inform you: we are going to the District of Columbia, commonly abbreviated as D.C. Though these buses do travel a bit slower than cars do, we should arrive there within the hour, if not the half-hour. Please try to wait out the remainder of the trip as amiably as possible. I can tell you right now, if you were not persuaded by the picture you saw, that it will be worth your while.”

          While most of the men didn’t know what the word amiably meant, nearly all of them seemed to get the point of the picture, and the majority acquiesced to the Changer’s requests. His plan worked out rather nicely, as they really were traveling to D.C. and did arrive there within the hour. It was after their arrival in D.C. that things began to transform into much more of a gamble, since there wouldn’t actually be an infomercial or a photo shoot with the Deceiver. The Changer and the Living Strength would have to use the extent of their powers to intimidate the men who had come with them into helping them storm the White House, not be filmed showing off their muscles next to beautiful women on public television.         

          At any rate, there was nothing for it--once the Changer had brought them into Washington D.C. and stopped in a large parking lot about ten minutes from the White House. There, the men piled out, eager to be displayed on public television with the Deceiver, as they had been told they would. However, after looking about and seeing no equipment, no Deceiver, and not much of anything else, many men began to look dejected, but more began to look mad, to the point of ire.

          The Changer faced the crowd, still outwardly as calm as could be, and spoke in a loud booming voice. The Living Strength stood at the other side of the men, monitoring them as a group to make sure no one ran off.

          “Men, I’m sure you’re all disappointed that there is no camera crew or beautiful model here. Quite frankly, I don’t care. You will not be involved with any infomercial or photo shoot here. Instead, you will help us storm the White House, or you and your family will die, guaranteed.”

          One of the men cackled with laughter. “Ha! How can you really be serious with such a threat? You’re two on two hundred, even if your friend is the biggest guy I’ve ever seen.”

          The Changer smiled, silent laughter echoing in his mind. In an instant, he grew to a colossal forty feet in stature, keeping his width proportional (about seven feet with his arms down at his sides). Every last man gathered there (minus the Living Strength) held his mouth wide open, utterly incredulous. No one fled nor tried to mount an attack, now. The men knew what they were up against.   

          People in the surrounding area who had seen this astonishing transformation occur started panicking, screaming for their lives, screaming about aliens, screaming about the end of the world, all running at top speed. The aliens’ power was no longer a secret.

          But so be it, thought the Changer. We have been inconspicuous long enough. 

          Aloud, the now forty-foot alien announced, “All right, good. I’m glad to see there is no resistance. Remember that the consequence of any from this point on will be the death of your entire family, down to the last cousin and the youngest child. Now, let us enter the building this parking lot was made for so that we may have more privacy while going over the storming and takeover.” The Changer shrank back to about six feet and led the pack of men through the threshold of the building, a medium-sized theater. Upon entering, he led the group down the middle aisle, bade the Living Strength guard the exit and the men sit anywhere that pleased them, and walked onto the stage so that the acoustics would be good enough for him to be easily heard by all.

          Without hesitation, he went into an informative monologue on White House takeover. “All right. The storm shall be rather simple, yet quite good, if I may say so myself. Anyway, here is how it shall happen. You Earthlings shall head to the White House’s front entrance, make as much noise as you can, and try to bring down the gates with a battering ram. Yes, a battering ram. I am aware that they have been out of use in your planet’s military strategies for the last several centuries, but a battering ram it shall be. Those personnel who are employed at the White House for security purposes will either think you completely mad or completely intoxicated, or perhaps both. At any rate, that shall be your main job. Meanwhile, the Living Strength here shall feign an attempt at breaking in from the rear of the building, serving as the second diversion. Someone will probably investigate that, as you men will be the conspicuous diversion. However, while the men employed to protect your president’s grounds are busy with you all, I shall be stealthily entering, without force or destruction, from the side, most likely through a crack in the wall. I will then cause complete chaos within and without the building itself, let open the gates, and all of you shall enter to help me ensure domination of the place. The president will die, and all of his men, and the Living Strength and I shall rule from the White House from that point on. Now, is there any need for clarification on any one of the points?”

          There was total silence throughout the room.

          It was broken by a voice unknown to, though not entirely unanticipated by the Changer.

          “That was a good monologue, but first of all it’s dangerous to say something like that even without true meaning this close to the White House, second, the theater isn’t open for auditions right now, third, we never accepted monologues as audition pieces in the first place, and fourth, you should shed that ridiculous costume you’re wearing.”

          The Changer turned to face the woman who had spoken, a rather young lady with long, wavy, white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She wore a denim jacket over a tight, light blue t-shirt. He smiled--a signification that, from the Changer, was almost never good. “Oh, don’t worry. I had no intention of auditioning. The speech was quite genuine. So how did such a young lass as you come to own so fine and large a building as this?”

          The woman stared at him disdainfully. “Young lass? Where’d you learn that line? 19th century Scotland? Get out of my theater, you creep, and bring your friends with you, or I’m calling the cops.”

          The Changer smiled again. The woman took a few steps back.

          Suddenly, the alien grabbed her, preventing her from making an escape. “Call the cops? I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. However, I will leave your theater, and I rather fancy I shall bring you with me. You would do well to come--I have been searching for a worthy mistress as of late.”

          The woman stared at him with a look of horror and indignation.        

          “I jest, of course,” the Changer reassured her, “but you would still do well to come with us. Don’t worry--I am quite capable of protecting you.” And the Changer grew to about fifteen feet, close to the height from the theater‘s stage to its ceiling. “Now.” He addressed the Living Strength and the human men. “Let us cut down some of these pillars to form ourselves a battering ram.”

          The woman in the Changer’s arms protested wildly. “What? That would destroy my theater! You can’t do that.”

          “What is your name, my dear?” the Changer asked in a rather polite tone.  

          The woman shrugged. “I suppose you might as well know. I’m Lavender Evlor. Now, since you’ve been so polite, do you think you might be so just a bit longer and give me your own name?”

          The Changer smiled and shrank down to his usual six-foot height. “I like you, Lavender. You’re bold, for a human. I’m called the Changer, for reasons that should be rather plain, but you can call me whatever you wish as long as it does nothing to hinder my plans. Now, Lavender, since we’ve been acquainted, do you have any better suggestions of how to make a battering ram than with a few solid stone pillars?”

          Miss Evlor nodded. “Yes, in fact, I do. There’s a wood not far from here. I’m sure you could find a couple of good, stout tree trunks there which would serve you much better as a battering ram than the rather fragile, unstable material, marble, which comprises these pillars. On top of that, it would be much safer--if you break these pillars down, you run the risk of the entire building caving in on you while you’re inside. With trees, there’s no ceiling that may or may not fall--just the vast blue sky, supported by nothing but the great expanse that is Mother Nature.”

           The Changer smiled genuinely this time, if only for a moment, using both his mouth and his eyes. “You surprise me, Miss Evlor. Beautiful, prestigious, intelligent, refined, and a natural actress. I have made a good choice as to my traveling companion, I’m sure. And as for your suggestion, it is rather a good one. I believe we shall go with it. And on that note, I have a suggestion for you--you should audition for the next play that is enacted in your theater. I’m confident you could attain the lead role with ease.” Without waiting for Lavender to respond, the Changer turned to his men. “Change of plans, men! This lovely lady here is going to lead us to a wood not far off. We shall make our battering ram there, from the trunks of trees, and not put ourselves in danger of being caved inside this theater for the remainder of our lives. I think we should all be grateful to Miss Lavender Evlor for her brilliant idea. Now, let us depart!”

          The Changer marched down the middle aisle of the room, Lavender’s hand clasped in his. Almost every man cheered for them, the majority of them stupid enough to accept whatever he had to say, whether or not it contained the slightest hint of sincerity. The Living Strength held one of the doors open, and he motioned for one of the men to hold the other. The man was more than eager to comply. Anything for the Changer, the one who--wait. Surely it wasn’t the one who had lied to him, captured him, and threatened his family? No, of course not. The Changer was a just, valiant commander. He would never do a thing like that.

          The seemingly omnipotent pink Pisquihtian smiled at everyone he passed, the most amiable smile in the world. Yes, the Changer was certainly a good leader.

          And a most manipulative one.

          Everyone cheered as they marched double speed to the wood. There was no leader in the universe that could be better than the Changer.

 

          “We’re landing on Io soon, I guess,” said Yipfnikh.

          Ubu nodded. “I think it’ll be about a half hour.”

          Yipfnikh rubbed his chin. “Io. Never actually been there myself, but the stories about this place--”

          Ubu groaned. “Yipfnikh, would it be too much to ask you to refrain from giving me another one of your stories? I’ve been here two or three times before, and I’m not sure I’d be too...enlightened by any of the...shall we say...slight alterations of reality like those you’ve told me during the forty or so hours since we’ve met. Please, Yipfnikh.”       

          Yipfnikh glared indignantly at the ambassador. “Slight alterations? How could you call my legitimate facts--”  

          “Yipfnikh, you can’t believe everything you hear. You may be a ‘refined scholar‘, whatever that means, who thinks he knows everything, but you have more naivety than any farmer I’ve ever met, and unless you plan on changing that, you need to cut out the petulance and start being a little more open-minded when it comes to things you‘ve already heard. Despite what you think, one can learn more from an uneducated peasant than from a studied scholar, most of the time. You should start asking questions more often--questions about how things work and about the world around you, not about why someone has the nerve to treat you the way they do. Try it out, Yipfnikh. I think you’ll find that people will like you a lot more if you do. I should know--I get people to like me for a living. Contemplate my advice. You can try talking to me once you have.” With that, Ubu walked into his chamber and closed the door behind him.

          That left an uncomfortable silence between the two vital members of the team on the Fair Pendulum. On the Jumble Hero, things weren’t much better between Grashal and Wweliopaszukk. In fact, the classic uncomfortable silence reigned there, too. Even among the soldiers there was a silent unrest, a feeling of anxiety but fear of announcing it. Most of the soldiers had never been to or heard an awful lot about Io before; in fact, Ubu and Grashal probably knew the most about it of anyone aboard the fleet. Therefore, most didn’t know what to expect--hence, the permeation of uncomfortable silence.

          However, Ubu was almost right on target with his estimate of arrival time, so the uncomfortable silence only had another thirty minutes to ensue. When the ships came within viewing distance of the moon’s surface, Grashal announced to all the pilots via radio that they would be landing in the midst of a large green field. Such a landing wouldn’t be very beneficial to the grass, but there weren’t a lot of other options; the field was bordered to the south and west by forest, to the east by a lake, and to the north by dunes. The terrain certainly was diverse, if nothing else out of the ordinary.

          Anyway, the entire fleet did land in the field, the size of which was acknowledged by the fact that all fifteen massive ships were able to land on it simultaneously. Subsequently, a mass exodus of Saturanians from the fleet of ships occurred, and what vacancies the field formerly contained were now packed with the multitudes upon multitudes of Saturanian soldiers.

          In the center of the field, Ubu, Yipfnikh, Wweliopaszukk, and the three commanders serving directly under him (Jorkaliterun, Fxqulgankorjj, and Qualayariavasch) held a meeting on what should be done in the immediate thereafter.

          “All right,” said Wweliopaszukk. “Now that we’ve landed, we need to make camp. Of course we should proceed with some caution. Ubu, Yipfnikh, what do you two know about the geography and the inhabitants of this place?”

          Ubu answered almost immediately, intentionally obstructing Yipfnikh from saying anything first. “Well, not a huge amount of information has been released to the public, at least on Saturn, about this moon. Most of what I know about it, I learned on Jupiter or on the celestial body itself, the scarce few times I’ve paid it a visit prior to now. It’s sparsely populated with inhabitants that look starkly different from Jupiterians, probably because those who now inhabit the planet originally immigrated from another galaxy. The inhabitants of this planet are extremely hairy, so much so that many of their features are almost indistinguishable. I think the population count at last census was around three hundred thousand for the entire moon. No one really knows why the terrain is like it is, though some of the inhabitants claim to possess some knowledge of it. Other than vague rumors that certain areas of this planet are cursed with catastrophic natural disasters and even worse things, that’s all the information I know, and most likely that anyone else knows, save the inhabitants and maybe an ambassador from Jupiter or a neighboring moon.”

          Wweliopaszukk nodded. “All right. I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, if we’re going to be here for awhile, we should probably get acquainted with the residents so there aren’t any midnight ambushes or anything of that sort. It would also be good to know where we could find some provisions around here, if we stay long enough to run out of what we brought. I suggest we divide ourselves into groups.”

          Ubu nodded. “Good idea. I’ll travel with you, general.”

          “Good thinking,” Wweliopaszukk replied. “Splitting up those with information so it can be spread throughout both scouting teams. Fxqulgankorjj, you go with Yipfnikh. You two” (he looked at the remaining two commanders) “stay here and watch our craft and soldiers. Ubu and I will check out the forest, so you two” (this time he looked at Yipfnikh and Fxqulgankorjj) “can explore the dunes.” Without another word, the general marched briskly toward the forest, Ubu following his example as best he could. Within minutes, the field was out of sight.

          “So, General,” said Ubu, “while going scouting was a good idea, if being alert on available supplies and protecting your troops from ‘midnight ambushes’ was all you wanted to do, you wouldn’t have come yourself. So what was your true motive? You’ve intrigued me.”

          Wweliopaszukk smiled. “I guess I can’t count on all of my counselors to be naive. All right, Ubu. I trust you to some degree, though your sudden ability to recognize ulterior motives makes me cautious. I, in fact, came out here to do part of what I said I would--to become acquainted with this moon’s inhabitants. If we meet any, you just follow my lead. Now that everything’s straightened out, let’s try to explore thoroughly.”

          “Thanks for the information, General, but that doesn’t seem like the best plan. I follow your lead? Remind me again who becomes acquainted with people for a living and who leads troops to war?”

          The general turned to face the ambassador, looking ready to bite Ubu’s head off at any moment. “If there’s a problem, Milord, then why don’t we just settle it right here, right now, eh?” He unsheathed his longsword.

          Ubu threw up his hands. “All right, fine. Have it your way. Let’s get searching, then.” Ubu was getting exceedingly tired of ignorant men who thought they knew everything, but he was no match for a war leader in hand-to-hand combat.

          The duo trudged on, each man muttering to himself about the other’s faults. They continued in this same manner for about two hours, when the first event of the day occurred. They were cutting away at the foliage, Wweliopaszukk with his sword and Ubu with his pocketknife, when a creature jumped out from a largish bush that they had been poking at.

          It was of a similar size to the Saturanians, if a tad smaller, its skin a bright yellow pigment and garbed in a long, green trench coat. It was a kind of creature not found on any planet in the Milky Way galaxy, nor was it the species that was commonly known as the dominant one on the moon Io. Wweliopaszukk was almost entirely unfazed by the creature’s actions, and Ubu, while slightly startled, was more intrigued by it than anything else.

          “You’d better be careful, there, fellows,” the creature said to them in Saturanian, with an accent that sounded perfectly accustomed to speaking the language. “You never know what you might find within the depths of Io. Two Saturanians should be careful around these parts. This is one of the forests they say is cursed.”

          Wweliopaszukk snorted, but Ubu was more intrigued by his words than ever. “And how would you know? Is this moon your home?”

          The man--evidently it was a male--smiled and shrugged. “It was not my place of birth, but I suppose I would call it my home more than I would anywhere else.” He continued quietly, as if speaking to himself. “I’ve been here for so long now...”

          “Do you know where we can find some of this moon’s inhabitants?” Wweliopaszukk cut in.

          The man’s laugh was warm and melodious. “Not if they don’t wish to be found. I know where I’ve seen them, but they come and go as they please. If they want to be out of your sight, they will be. And if you are out here searching for them, I can guarantee you’ll never see a glimpse of them.”

          The general was outraged. “What? Just tell me where they are, little man! Now!” He pointed his longsword at the man’s throat.  

          The yellow fellow’s laugh was now so melodious that Ubu found himself smiling. “I am sorry, Lord Saturanian, but your metal swords, however elegant and well-made, ceased to faze me moments after they were brought into existence. If you mean to strike me with it, then by all means do so, but if not I will rid you of something with which you might harm yourself. So I suggest you make your decision quickly, or I will assume you have chosen the latter.”

          Wweliopaszukk narrowed his eyes and brought his sword back to its sheath.

          “So,” said Ubu, trying to cut through the enmity Wweliopaszukk seemed to have toward the mysterious hominid, “What is your story, my good fellow?” he asked, looking straight at the yellow man.

          “The rings of smoke...left behind traces of their scent...” the increasingly enigmatic creature suddenly gasped out. “The wraiths were gone, but...they would be back...they...would...be...back...”

          Ubu put a hand on his shoulder. “Wha--” Before the word was even out of his mouth, the strange being had turned to mist, the only remnant a ring of lavender smoke rising through the air. By this point, both Saturanians were genuinely scared, or at the very least freaked out.

          “What was that?” Wweliopaszukk managed to get out breathlessly.

          “You tell me,” was Ubu’s almost-as-breathless reply. “Let’s get out of these woods.”

          Wweliopaszukk, who had already begun breathing normally, snorted in disdain at such a suggestion. “Get out? We’ve barely explored! If you think I’m going to be driven off by the inhabitants’ attempt at something to cause that very thing, then think again. I’ll not be dissuaded so easily.”

          “General--” 

          “Ambassador--it’s either a personal duel or follow the leader.”

          Ubu sighed wearily as he followed Wweliopaszukk farther through the forest. Why couldn’t someone just shoot him now?

          They began searching for signs of an intelligent species once again. Not five minutes into this part of their walk, a giant bellow came from behind them. Both turned themselves around to see a hulking creature, larger than a bear and more ferocious-looking than a hyena.

          Only pure terror stopped Ubu from saying ‘I told you so‘.

 

          Eric’s guess was, in fact, about four and a half miles off, not far at all. The eyes he looked into were not hers, though, as one generally finds it difficult to look into the eyes of someone about four and a half miles away. The eyes he looked into belonged to a woman who lived three doors down from Kroozi’s house, a woman who also happened to be a high school friend of Eric’s. 

          “Alicia?” he asked in surprise. Then he shook his head and bared his teeth. “Guys, I’m sure this was a good joke, but I am not in the mood. I’ve just been through a...ah, what’s the point. I’m too tired to argue. It’s good to see you, Alicia, however interesting the circumstances, but I need to go get forty winks.”  Grunting, the man rose from his seat and began trudging slowly from the room.

          “Eric, Alicia wants to help us solve this alien-related crisis.”

          Eric smiled to himself, no one else able to see. “That’s great, but it doesn’t change the fact that I need sleep. Good-bye, everyone.” Without further delay, Eric went to his bed and fell asleep.

          “Same old Eric,” Alicia said with a smile. “He never did care what anyone thought. If he needs to do something, he’s going to do it, and if he needs sleep, he’s going to sleep, whether it’s half-past noon or half-past midnight.”

          “Yep,” Lily agreed. “That’s Eric. Say, why haven’t you come to visit him before? I had no idea you two were old high school friends.”

          Alicia shrugged. “He’s only been here a week, you told me. I rarely visit you, so it’s not like I should have noticed he was here before now. But now that I know, I’ll be sure to visit more often, especially considering the critical circumstances. Anyway, about that. What help do you think I could be? I mean, Professor Kroozi, if you have any inventions that need testing, I’d gladly be a guinea pig if it’ll help save the world, but other than that, about all I’ve got in my arsenal is a brown belt in karate and the merest hint of beauty.”

          “Well,” said Kroozi, “there are a few inventions that you might could help with.”

          “And I’d say you’ve got more than the merest hint of beauty,” Lily said, somehow making his statement sound completely without flirtation.

          Alicia smiled a genuine, toothy smile. “Well thanks, Mr. Lily. Professor Kroozi, if you want my help, I’d be happy to oblige here and now.”

          Kroozi nodded. “Okay, let me run home really quick and see what I can find in my lab. And by the way, drop the professor. Kroozi is fine.”

          “Okay, Kroozi,” she said amiably. “See you soon!”

          As Kroozi walked out the door, Eddie, Patty still in his arms, sat down on the opposite side of the couch from Alicia, and Teddy slumped down in between them.

          Alicia turned to look at Teddy. “Hi!” she said cordially, extending her hand. Once Teddy noticed she was addressing him, he took it and shook it.

          “I’m Alicia,” the lady said.

          “Teddy,” said Teddy in a deep, strained voice.

          “Hi, Teddy! It’s good to see you. Who are your friends there?”

          “The guy’s Eddie, and the chick’s Patty,” Teddy replied in the same voice he had used previously.

          Alicia nodded and extended her arm across Teddy to reach Eddie. “Hi, Eddie!”

          Eddie failed to acknowledge the hand or the voice in any way, shape, or form, completely ignoring them, all of his senses (except perhaps taste) focused on Patty.

          “Oh, sorry about him,” Teddy said to Alicia. “When he’s around Patty, especially when she’s in any kind of danger, Eddie tends not to notice anything else around him. It’s nothing personal.”

          “All right!” Lily boomed. “Enough small talk. I’m not trying to be mean, but time is of the essence. We need to reason out a plan. By this point, I think all of us know about as much as anyone on this planet how much of a threat these aliens pose. The question is, do we go back to their apartment and try to rid the world of them ourselves? Do we attempt to gather an army? Do we arm ourselves to the teeth? Do we wait for them to gain attention, or to come to us? I’d like everyone’s opinion--everyone conscious, any--”

          Lily stopped in midsentence as he heard the screech of a car pulling up to his yard. Teddy jumped up and looked out the window. Almost instantaneously he yelled, “That’s Alan’s car! The last people to have it were the Deceiver and her associate. They’re here!” There was anger in his voice, mixed with terror and...and joy. Joy that things would finally get taken care of, one way or the other.

          Lily’s voice was more flustered than anything else. “All right. Teddy, you and Alicia go get the vegetable knives from the kitchen. I’m going to get Eric and some guns.”

          Without a word, Teddy and Alicia obeyed, running to the kitchen and looking for the knives with a frantic fervor. In less than a minute, Teddy found them and grabbed four as fast as he could. “I’ve got some. Come on,” he said to Alicia. 

          Both of them ran back to the living room, where they could hear the ring of the doorbell. Lily hadn’t made it back yet, though Eric was trotting down the hall towards them, his revolver in hand. “Lily’ll be here soon,” he said.

          “OPEN UP!!!” a deep male voice yelled from outside. “We know you’ve got Patty Harrte and Teddy McTralf in there! Bring ‘em out peacefully and nothing else happens.”

          “Who is that?” Alicia whispered sharply. “The Deceiver’s partner?”

          Teddy shook his head. “Not unless he’s disguising his voice, or she has another accomplice.”

          “BRING THEM OUT, NOW!!!” the same voice screamed. “Or we’re breaking in and killing everyone in the way!”

          “Where the heck is Lily?” Teddy hissed.

          “Here,” he said, sprinting down the hallway, a pistol in each hand. He gave one to Alicia. “Take it. You always were a good shot, if I remember those laser tag tournaments correctly.”

          “Lily, go answer the door, before they knock it down,” Teddy practically spat into the man’s ear.

          Cautiously, his gun pointed towards whatever would be beyond the door, Lily opened it to find two massive men with shotguns, prodding his neck with the barrels.

          “Put the gun down, and bring the children out!” shouted the one on the left, the one who had given all of the previous orders.

          Lily’s mind was racing, struggling for some way out of the situation, when he was abruptly knocked to the ground from behind and two shots were fired from above him. The two large men fell dead, bullets to their hearts (fired through the armpit), and Eric crumpled on the ground, a pistol in one hand and a revolver in the other.

          Standing a few feet behind where the men had stood was the Deceiver, looking surprised and frightened. Filled with rage, Lily threw Eric off of him and shot the Deceiver eight times to be sure she would die, if she could. As the first bullet reached her, she dissipated into mere mist. 

          Lily was baffled. “What the--”

          Before he could utter another word, the Deceiver jumped at him from his right side. “Holograms are wonderful things,” she said, and then abruptly fell prostrate as a gunshot pierced the air. Kroozi stood behind her, a smoking pistol in his hand.

          Lily smiled in relief as he walked to greet the inventor. “Good timing, Kroozi,” he said, “and a good thing you had a gun on you. I’m not sure what the Deceiver would have done, but I’m sure glad you got here when you did. I know I had a gun, too, but that being my first encounter with the Deceiver...well, I’m just glad you came.”

          Kroozi nodded curtly and walked toward Teddy and Alicia with a purposeful stride, dropping his gun on Eric’s unconscious form. Alicia looked at him expectantly, Teddy uncertainly, with just a touch of fear, probably for the most part the effect of the recent crises. Suddenly, Kroozi pulled a second gun out of his coat and shoved the barrel at Teddy’s head.

          At about the same time, Lily, who had been stooped over the Deceiver said, “There’s no bullet or wound on her body! What’d you do, Kroozi, use a blank? Why the heck would you do something like that?” When he looked up to gaze at Kroozi questioningly, he saw the scientist put the gun to Teddy’s head and demand that no one move a muscle or the lad would die. Kroozi had his back turned to Lily, though, focusing all his attention on Alicia and the boy. His heart racing, Lily brought his pistol up to aim at Kroozi’s neck. A clean shot. It would have to be a clean shot, or events would take a definite catastrophic turn. His hand shaking, he readied his finger to pull the trigger...only to have the gun knocked from his hand by the Deceiver.   Startled, he was caught unawares when she pushed her body close to his, began smothering his lips with hers.

          “I love you,” she breathed in a perfect melodious tone. “I love you...”

          Grunting, the man pushed the Deceiver away. “No, this isn’t right...” Sweat was rolling down his face, the exertion of resisting the captivating woman’s spell immense.

          The Deceiver gave him an absolutely stunning smile and then jumped into his arms, beginning to caress his back and kissing him passionately once again. Lily gritted his teeth, using all of his force in resisting the Deceiver’s enchantment. Panting like a dog, he somehow found the strength to drop his love, his sole possession of worth in this life, onto the concrete sidewalk. As soon as he did, he bent over and scrambled to regain his pistol before the Deceiver had a chance to intervene once again. The attempt, however, was futile. His gorgeous enemy recovered with astonishing speed, kicking his gun away before his hand could reach it, then pouncing on him almost instantly, latching onto him with an intensity great enough to be a death grip but a grab that felt so fervently affectionate that it could be nothing but the passionate embrace he desired.

          No! That wasn’t what he wanted. At least, he didn’t think it was. But he hadn’t had time to close his eyes, and now the striking features of her elegant face filled his vision, and she was gently, lovingly stroking his chest. She had already unbuttoned his shirt, he managed to remember in some distant, almost departed section of his mind. He let go of the memory. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was this woman, so fair, so lovely, and his. She spoke softly into his ear, an amazingly exquisite love song, evoking thoughts of a distant world, one where passion as had never been expressed before on this world was daily routine, the only earthly example that was even relatively comparable being what he and his love were doing now. Love was such a pitiful, paltry, contemptible word for her. It fell utterly short of what she was, what she did, her essence. All of the supermodels around the globe combined into one, all of Mother Nature’s wonders packed into a single sight, would have been a pathetic substitute. She was the Deceiver.

          Something about that name made him uneasy, something about the word...but words were all garbage, nothing but mud compared to her. He shifted his focus back to her, his woman, his voluptuous, drop-dead-gorgeous, naturally perfect soul mate. Nothing else mattered. She was life, so he let all else in his mind and soul flee from her presence. There was no point in trying to preserve what hindered life. He could remember nothing but that sweet, completely satisfying life, he and the Deceiver. He and the Deceiver. That defined existence. That was existence. He was glad.

 

          “Let’s march! Come on, men, just another hundred yards, and we’ll make it to the White House! Come on! I thought real men didn’t have a problem with carrying a little log a couple of feet. Either I completely missed my guess, or I’m yelling at a bunch of girls here! Come on! MOVE!!!”

          The Changer sounded like a slave driver, but, as always, he knew exactly what it was he was doing. A group of men that big had to be kept perfectly in check or the consequences could grow out of hand in an uncannily brief amount of time.

          He smiled as his glance passed to the Living Strength, carrying the largest tree trunk, which each easily weighed upwards of a thousand pounds. The other men, ripped though they were, struggled to manage a trunk between seven or eight of them at the rate they were walking. It was in fact the Living Strength who set the pace, his ridiculously massive calves not even beginning to strain as he maintained his brisk march, only those far inferior, severely limited human men having a hard time keeping the pace.

          “Do you seriously plan on taking over the White House and ruling the United States?”

          The Changer turned to face the only woman among this group, the one who had asked the question of him. “Yes,” he said, with a rather condescending smile, “I do. And I surely don’t plan to stop there. By the end of my lifetime, I fully intend to be ruler of the universe. And, with what I possess, that seems a reasonable goal to endeavor at attaining.”

          Lavender nodded, though from her expression it was obvious she didn’t believe anything, at least past the taking over the White House part.

          The Changer smiled, probably the thing he did second most frequently in life, after breathing. “I know you don’t believe me, my dear Lavender, but you shall be witnessing it firsthand, step by step. The first step, which I believe you have already accepted somewhere within the reaches of your mind, shall be the storm and takeover of the White House, which, in all likelihood, will transpire presently. In fact, that’s the White House we’re approaching now, there in the distance, isn’t it?”

          Lavender barely suppressed a groan. It was the White House. She hoped this lunatic really did have everything under control, else she would have fun explaining herself to the police.

          The Changer focused his everlasting beam of a smile on her yet again. “I see you’ve taken up the art of discretion, my dear Lavender. I am glad; you will have the need to be discreet within the next few minutes with the information I give you. I won’t burden you with too much now, only that, contrary to what I told everyone else, I won’t be the primary part of the real intrusion--you will. I will be in the right pocket of your lovely jacket, and you will get into the White House from the side.”

          Lavender’s eyes bugged out. “What? How am I--”

          The Changer interrupted her with a loud command, standing still. “Let’s stop here for a minute, troops! Strength, if you would be so kind as to lift this rock for us, I have a little something for you all, to...ah...shall we say, motivate you to do your part in this conquest.”

          The Living Strength complied as he lifted and gently displaced to a patch of ground several feet away a boulder weighing probably between 800 and 900 pounds. Underneath was a sheet of lead.

          “Grab it by the sides, Strength,” said the Changer. “And do be careful.”

          The powerful alien did as he was told, boring his hands into the ground on either side of the sheet, grabbing something on either side, and lifting. He came up with a lead box about four feet deep, something he only could have known about through being given information on it previously. With a slight grunt he ripped the top from the box, exposing several wine glasses.

          “We shall make a toast to storming the White House!” the Changer boomed.

          A cheer arose from the men. The Changer doled out the glasses while the Living Strength pulled the sheet of lead from the box whenever they ran out, exposing another set every time. Finally, once every man was content with a glass, the Living Strength pulled off the final barrier between layers of the lead box, exposing six bottles of fine French wine. He, the Changer, and Lavender all poured it into the glasses until everyone had at least a swig’s worth. Then everyone drank, and the Strength smashed all the wine bottles against a tree.

          “All right, men!” the Changer shouted. “Are we ready to go?”

          With a deafening roar that could be heard for miles, the men hefted their tree trunks and trotted to the White House, some even outdistancing the Living Strength, though he could have gone faster if he had wished. Either way, the men were substantially more vigorous than they had been just a few minutes earlier.

          Lavender noticed it almost immediately. “What did you put in the wine, Changer? Steroids?”

          The man she addressed simply smiled and shook his head. “Let’s just say I let a friend into it, a friend with the initials PCP, if you catch my drift.”

          The woman’s eyes bugged out, looking just about as shocked as it was possible to look, certainly feeling like it. “You put PCP in their drinks? The most powerful drug on planet Earth? You must want to dominate the White House quite desperately.”

          The Changer shrugged. “Not the word choice I would have used, but yes, I do want to take over the White House, and I will do anything I have to in order to accomplish the task, adding PCP to men’s wine being no exception. Now, let’s go on with the plan. The men are already beginning to fulfill their role.” Without waiting for a reply, the Changer grabbed onto Lavender’s right jacket pocket with both hands and disappeared from view, shrinking to microscopic proportions.

          She groaned loudly, the only human sound comparable to it that a woman gives during labor. She didn’t know the half of what she was getting herself into, but it seemed to her there was no way around it; the Changer would be an extremely formidable enemy. With utter resignation and a racing heart, thoughts speeding through her mind, she began trudging towards the left side of the White House, as scared as she had ever been in her life. This would prove to be a most memorable day not only for Miss Lavender Evlor, but for the entire population of the United States of America, if not of Earth.

Author's Note

No specific notes for this chapter.