A few years ago I came across this image for Amazing Stories, October 1992, by Douglas Chaffee:
For a joke posted it onto my Fb page with the title “Give Me My Pants, You Rat Alien Bastard!”
And even though at the time I said that I was “dreaming of stories that will never be,” I read a prompt from The Lunar Awards and was cajoled by friend Jonah at the Wittering Widdershins to write something. So I reached back to my silly idea and wrote this short story. I hope you enjoy.
Give Me My Pants, You Alien Rat Bastard
by H. W. Taylor
“Specimen Bronson, are you living?”
I lifted myself up from the floor. It was dark. I was wet and cold and naked. My ears were ringing, or I thought they were. I think now that there was a sound that was meant to pierce my ears, to unsettle me.
My last bright memory was being sucked up out of the river so fast my swimming suit stayed behind. One moment I was swimming in the river, the next, my arm chopped air, and my kick missed water. Swept headlong skyward and swallowed by a rubbery black tube. I rattled around and was spat out into this dark room. I felt my ears collapse and my stomach seize and twist.
A day's worth of fresh fish, cooked over a campfire, was ejected from my mouth. A snap and hiss somewhere above startled me, until I realized it was merely a spray of warm water. Cold as I was, I was grateful for it. I stood carefully and surveyed the dark room. I was alone, it seemed. Perhaps I imagined the voice.
The metallic voice spoke again. “Specimen Bronson, do not fear. You are safe." The voice sounded like it was spoken through a metal pipe. It was a fake American accent, too hard on the long syllables.
"I'm not a specimen," I said. "I'm a man. Show yourself and I'll prove it." I spoke more bravely than I felt and scraped the water from my arms and chest. "And give me my pants."
There was no response. A door slid open, letting in a dim light. I assumed I was being watched, and despite my helplessness, I decided to move assuredly. The other room was damp as well, but it was warmer, and that was enough to get me to enter.
That's where I found Ju-Min. She was also naked. I could tell she was a bit younger than me. She was shy and covered herself, angling her body away. She was scared and I wanted to put her at ease.
"What's going on?" I asked. I searched the walls, focused on getting out of whatever prison we were in.
"It's hopeless," she said. She told me she'd searched for hours and the only door, aside from the entry room, was above me.
I looked to the ceiling and saw a circular fixture that looked like it could open. I leaned against the wall, projecting confidence among other things. "What the hell is going on?"
—
I was in bed before eight as I often was on Friday nights. I'd been good all week. Gym on the previous four days, light lunches. Chicken and fish for dinner a couple of nights, Savignon Blanc and carrot sticks on the other two. That night, I had a pint of Vanilla Bean and five hours of Netflix ahead of me, languid and naked in bed.
Of course, I didn't tell Bronson that. Goodness, no. I told him I'd just stepped out of the shower. What happened as far as I can tell is that I fell asleep. I dreamed the window shattered and a black tornado sucked me up. By the time the rubbery tube spat me out into the cell, I was wide awake.
After an hour in the dark, I had stopped my screaming and crying. At least until the cold voice spoke. “Specimen Ju-Min," it said. "Do not fear. You are safe."
It was awful. That led to more screaming, but by the time I heard Bronson fall out of the rubber chute, I was too tired to care.
It was quite a shock that he was naked too. I don't think I noticed how handsome he was until later. Of course, I was embarrassed. I was even more embarrassed that he was in better shape despite being older. It was an awkward few hours until "Dodger" introduced himself to us.
When that pink faced, googly eyed freak came in we screamed. Bronson screamed once, stood up, and got ready to take a swing at it. I could tell his first impulse was to defend me, he even made a step in my direction. It was really quite romantic considering we'd just met.
Of course, I wasn't thinking about that when some unknown alien plopped down between us. At that moment, I just screamed and screamed.
—
Ju-Min freaked out the first time we saw Dodger. It came down from the hole in the ceiling, three dark appendages, a bulbous head and this bulge of two long pink arms with large black beads at the end. Those were its eyes. It didn't have a mouth that I could see. Its voice seemed to come out of a sack beneath its eye stalks. Looked like a bag of cantaloupes.
Ju-Min was pressed up against the far wall and I was on the other. I moved my way slowly toward her. Two are better than one, I thought. The alien was silent and let us adjust to his presence before speaking.
"Call me Dodger," was the first thing he said. His voice was strange, like a morning radio DJ with heavy affectation of reality TV. When he spoke, the bag of cantaloupes jostled.
It explained that he was a scientist for his people, sent to study us. I was given the impression that we'd been watched for a long time, I mean all of us, humanity, not just Ju-Min and I. We were only the most recent specimens.
But it was clear that I'd been observed closely for the last year and a half. It mentioned several of my old girlfriends. It knew my moves, knew how long I was with each of them, and why I moved on. There could be others out there, watching us in the same way.
—
That was embarrassing too. When it started listing all of Bronson's sexual escapades, like eight different girls, and how each one left because he didn't want to settle down. I knew it had to be something like that just looking at him. And he was so sweet, even in the little time we'd talked.
But when the creature gets to me, all it says is: "Sexual frustration is painful too."
Thankfully by then Bronson had slid next to me so I didn't have to see his reaction. That's when Dodger started talking about the Nethering. I didn't quite understand it, because that voice was super annoying and I was grossed out by the quivering sack beneath the spindly binoculars of its eyes.
As far as I can tell, the Nethering is some kind of super pheromone that would make us irresistible and also make us infertile. Dodger didn't put it that way, but the way it was talking to Bronson, I knew that must be why he didn't want to settle down.
Dodger didn't know as much about me, since I haven't dated in a while, but it watched the same shows I was watching. Most shows have a bunch of women looking for men, but not wanting motherhood. I can see why it thought I was the same, but see, I want kids. I want it all. Life, love, and children to share it with.
But that gross voice bag, yuck. And the tendrils of its eyes. I couldn't stand how it looked and I couldn't stand how it talked, but the worst by far is what it was saying. And I thought Bronson was buying it.
—
"Without the inconveniences of offspring," is what was said.
I have to admit that I was tempted. I mean, there was more to it. The creature explained the experiment. The effect of pleasure in the minds of humans. I was concerned about the procedure, but he explained that it's just a boost to what I naturally had. In fact, it was already done. All the wet and humidity of that room was already transforming me. Potency, vigor, I could feel it, confidence and virility seeping into my skin. It felt like pride.
I turned to Ju-Min thinking she was feeling it too, but I was surprised to see that she was kneeling toward Dodger. Face down and legs tucked up underneath her body. Her skin was glistening and she was breathing like she was out of breath. At first I thought she was worshipping, but then I realized she was fighting.
Ju-Min purred or growled. It was like an animal sound. She stretched her spine, writhing, but not in pain, but like she was avoiding something. I was shocked, because I liked how I felt. I didn't care that I wasn't supposed to feel that way. My heart rate was up, the blood in my body was electric and singing the same tune that was whistled by the ship.
I watched Ju-Min take control of herself and heard her say, "Miss the grave." I'm not sure what she meant, but that's when I realized that we're like rats to them.
—
I don't know what came over me up there. My body felt so elastic and wild. I felt this surge of blood all over. It nearly knocked me flat. I was on the floor and this sticky warm mist was clinging to me. It was sweet on my lips and I felt beautiful and powerful. I knew it was wrong.
It was so easy. I felt just like I've always wanted to feel, but recently, I've been working so hard on, like, myself. It's hard and I haven't really enjoyed it, but then in this alien ship, I was handed what I wanted, but it didn't feel real. I knew it was some deceitful drug.
And whatever that creature was pumping into the room was affecting Bronson too. He was snorting like a bull and he was… well, he was, um… firm. He was looking at me like I was on fire. Fearful, but drawn to me.
I wasn't afraid of him. In fact, I realized, despite my heart pounding and mind swirling in illusions and thirst, that we had to do something. Together as humans. I said, "Misbehave" and stood up.
I took Bronson's hand and led him to the pulsating brain of a monster, our captor, our tempter, and kicked him right in the quivering sack as hard as I could. I don't know what Bronson had expected me to do, but he seemed surprised.
Dodger was definitely surprised. Its eyes flailed about like those inflatable tube dancers. That's when Bronson yelled out, "You alien rat bastard!"
—
It was like waking from a dream. Ju-Min kicked it right in the saggy vocalizer. Dodger screamed. Its three legs started curling and his head tottered. I stepped up and caught the ocular tendrils and, with one might pull, ripped them off.
The whole protrusion came free and the black orbs and nerves slid out of the muscular casing. I held the bloody tendrils and stood there stunned. Dodger was howling and the ship had burst into alarms. Ju-Min managed to pull me back to the wall as the creature scrambled back up the exit.
The heavy mist that had been spraying stopped and the door on the other side opened. We could see the black tube that had pulled us both in so we made a break for it. At that moment, the ship tipped over and we both fell right into that gaping maw.
—
Fortunately, the ship was right over the water, near Bronson's camping site. We fell right into the river and by the time we surfaced, Dodger's ship was just a little speck in the sky. We were both naked as Adam and Eve, but Bronson graciously got me some of his clothes while I stayed in the water.
We probably sat on the beach for an hour before you all showed up. I guess you registered his ship as he fled. Must have had some kind of cloaking device. Did you find more of them?
Okay, fine, keep your secrets.
There's not much else to my story aside from the fact that Bronson kept looking at the fleshy tendrils that housed its eyes. Right before the helicopter showed up, he decided to tuck his legs in them and wear them as pants. And to be honest, he looked good in them.
He said he wanted to be clothed in something beyond this world. It felt right. He also said that I inspired him. I don't understand how. I'm a silly woman that's lonely and shy. But he said it. Will I be able to see him again?
—
That's it? You're not going to tell us what you know? Did you capture it or at least blast the big bastard out of the sky?
There could be more of them, you know. They could be out there right now making the same deal to other poor saps who don't understand they're offering slavery and infertility. Plenty of guys would take up that offer. I nearly did. They could be sterilizing the whole nation. Hell, the whole world! And if you think it was an innocent science experiment, you're fools. They were here to conquer us.
I think it was Ju-Min. In that dank cave, with the drugs and the weird sounds, the offer of easy pleasure, I just don't think I respond the way I do unless she was there. Miss the grave, I forgot to ask her what that meant.
I tell you what I think. I means, there's more to life than how I was living. I was a live in the moment guy, but moments are small and if they don't amount to something beyond, then there's no point to live in the moment. I want to live beyond the moment. I want a life that is bigger than the moments. Not death, not die, but to miss the grave. Ju-Min knows more. I have to talk with Ju-Min.
But that's it. I can't help you any more than that, so I guess we're done here.
One last thing. Give me my alien pants, you NASA rat bastards.
The End
“Space City” by Steinar Lund plucked from Adam Rowe’s awesome newsletter 70s Sci-fi Art.
No promises, but I might be coming out of my hibernation. I have a couple of other stories in the works and I’m working hard to get back into writing fiction regularly.
It seems a few of you have found the Unique Miranda Trilogy and my short story collections Progeny and Rupture on Kindle Unlimited. It’s always fun to see someone find a book and blitz through it. I’d love it if you’d leave a review. Just a rating and a quick sentence or two does wonders for us indie writers. Thanks for reading. I hope to write again soon. Cheers!
This is fine timing for Easter. I enjoyed the humor and the biblical imagery in the context of space aliens. "Ju-Min kicked it right in the saggy vocalizer." Ha!