Earth Fathers Are Weird (Earth Fathers #1) - Lyn Gala Page 0,3
that it was more disturbing than tentacle monsters.
“Yes. I’m human.” Max studied the triangular underside of the alien’s chin, but then the neck sort of folded like a snake bending into an s-shape, and two oversized eyes gazed right into Max’s. Max’s stomach nearly revolted. The shape of the neck looked too much like it had been broken.
“Designation Heetayu,” it said. Given that the translator didn’t alter the sound, Max assumed that was either a name or a title, but he was grateful that at least some of the aliens could communicate without screeching.
Max smiled. “Nice to meet you Heetayu. I am...” Giving his full name and rank would probably confuse the alien since Max couldn’t explain what the different parts meant. “I’m Max,” he offered.
“Mass.” The head raised back up. “Come.” He strode off.
Max hesitated, but in the end, he didn’t have any other resources, so followed Heetayu. They threaded through the crowd. Max tried hard to avoid touching any of the aliens. The occasional alien was terrifyingly large, and a few had bright colors that, on Earth, would suggest the species was poisonous.
None of them paid attention to Max. Either they had seen humans before, or the variety of life forms was so great that no one cared about one more. Max assumed it was the second. It was that or the government had been keeping one hell of a secret. While Max didn’t put it past the military to do exactly that in the name of national security, he had to assume that the alien dogfight over middle-America would have caused far less panic if anyone in the chain of command had had a clue.
The alien stepped over a low rail and headed for a mint-colored wall. The wall had a whole series of alcoves, some narrow and others wide, and set into each niche was a computer panel. Heetayu chose a wide alcove and stepped into the shade before turning toward Max.
“This looks interesting,” Max said.
Heetayu touched a trident symbol at the side of the panel. Then he said, “Designation interface.” It lit up with hundreds of lines and individual displays and alien text. In the upper center, it had a red light that reminded Max uncomfortably of Hal 9000. Hopefully, that was coincidence and not evidence that Stanley Kubrick was trying to warn the human race about the unreliable nature of alien computer systems.
“Yeah, I’m not impressed with the translation matrix.” Max stepped up to the interface. It made the cockpit of his F-35 look like a child’s toy. “What do I touch?”
Heetayu then touched dozens of buttons all at once, his eight fingers dancing over the controls. Max had no hope of following the commands he used, but a long tone sounded and then Heetayu reached into a recessed niche and pulled out a translator cuff like the aliens on the ship had worn. He held it out.
“Thanks.” Max took the thin metal and looked at it. Before he could do anything, Heetayu took it back and pressed it to Max’s wrist. The metal adapted to Max’s arm and Heetayu trilled.
“Touch,” he said, tapping a two inch glass square.
Max tugged at the translator cuff a second before he laid his fingers on the glass. A new set of lights flashed, and then Heetayu did his finger dance over the controls again. If this was supposed to be some sort of explanation, this guy sucked at his job. But after a second, Heetayu pulled Max’s hand away from the glass and then repeated his request.
“Touch.”
Max touched it, and this time, the computer made a humming sound. It then squealed. Max flinched, and the second he broke contact, the interface went silent and dark.
Heetayu twitched and the single line of hairs down the back of his head and neck shimmied. “Touch,” he said again.
Max felt a need to defend himself. “I was startled.” He stepped up and touched the glass again. Once again the computer interface hummed and then squealed. This time Max noticed that the flaps on the front of Heetayu’s neck closed. “You don’t like the sound either,” he guessed. Most animals had some sort of flap or protection over their ears, so it made sense that Heetayu was closing his ears, especially since his own language used the same lower tones as humans. “Does this thing even know English?”
The panel projected a stilted but understandable voice. “Interface updated. Query: Current language. Designation English confirm.”