Alien Blues by Lynn Hightower Page A

“It’s just procedure. Machete Man isn’t exactly a thing you leave behind to clear up after vacation. I know that. I have no problem that you didn’t take the time. In fact, I appreciate it. You want to catch this boy and so do I. I’m just letting you know, I fielded all the bureaucratic horsecrap for you. That way, if anybody approaches you, you’ll know what’s going on. You tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”
    Halliday rocked back and forth in his chair. “You know how they watch cops. Seems like the whole system is set up to hassle the ones who do a good job. And listen, after this is over, you can have a week of compensatory. Whenever you want.”
    â€œNot necessary. Look, I can see it’s a sin not to be totally broken up here, but frankly, my mother and I were just not that close.”
    â€œFine. Whatever. But think twice about that time off. You might take those girls of yours fishing.”

NINE
    They were heading for the third Elaki restaurant and David’s feet were hurting. Mr. String did not seem tired. And he was still talking. His voice was muffled because he was folded into the back seat.
    â€œSo the whole family and many friends were to go there.”
    Mel yawned. “To this river?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWith the beautiful waters,” Mel said. “Like red eye gravy.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat you do there, get drunk?”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    â€œEat?”
    â€œVery much.”
    â€œTake a dip in the lake?”
    â€œA dip?”
    â€œSwim,” Mel said.
    â€œCertainly not .”
    â€œDon’t swim? I mean, it’s hot, the water looks good. Thought that was the big thing at Elaki gatherings.”
    â€œ Fringe wetting only. Elaki do not swim. I suppose, if there was much drink, it could happen in private corners with lower types, but my family—”
    â€œSorry, hey.”
    â€œMay I finish the story?”
    â€œThere’s more?”
    â€œI am getting to the amusing section. When my pouch-sib is swearing by the blue maker.”
    â€œWho is the blue maker?”
    â€œMust you be interruptious?”
    Mel shrugged. “Trying to make sense out of this.”
    â€œThe blue maker is an idiomatic term for the one God who does not exist. It is used as term of great and vicious vulgarity. Illegal reference, in strict communities. And here is my pouch-sib, sitting on back of the lika—”
    â€œThe what?”
    â€œ Lika . It is similar to a … a … car-wagon. And it is blue maker this, and blue maker that.” String stopped talking and his belly rippled. “And the Mother extrudes and knocks him off the lika, into the red dirt.”
    â€œYou’re right, that’s funny.”
    â€œ Not yet. So, my pouch-sib gets up slowly, hurting, and gets back up in the lika, and we start up again, and he says—‘What, honored Mother, by the blue maker did I say?’”
    David and Mel exchanged looks.
    â€œQuit encouraging him,” David said.
    String peered over the back of the seat at their bellies.
    â€œYou do not find this amusing?”
    David parked by the curb. He opened the back door of the car. The Elaki looked at him sideways.
    â€œCan I … give you a hand?”
    â€œIt would be best, I think, for the back to turn.”
    â€œThe back of what?” Mel asked.
    â€œOf us,” David said.
    â€œOh, like, for the dignity to be preserved. We’re going on in, Gumby. Meet us inside.”
    David heard a thud.
    â€œNo. Please, wait … there. I am with you now.”
    The Elaki owner was friendly, but not helpful. He eyed String curiously.
    â€œBut you do have people— humans —come in here for dinner?” Mel asked.
    â€œNot very often, no. They don’t care for our menu.”
    â€œReally?” David said. “Somebody’s cooking something back there, smells pretty good.”
    String