Page 7 of Tis the Season for Tentacles
He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but it appeared he and Lord Vardox had somehow switched bodies.
FELIX
It’s stupidly cold out in the Nevada desert tonight.
Despite being only the first week of December, there’s a sharp chill in the air, and I’m already lamenting the fact that I didn’t pack warmer gear for this reconnaissance mission.
One might wonder what I’m doing out here all by my lonesome, far from the rest of human civilization.
And no, I’m not a serial killer.
I just happen to be a sci-fi-loving, alien-believing, unexplained-phenomena-hunting enthusiast, and I’m out here to prove that aliens are among us.
Trust me, I am indeed mentally sound. For the most part. I have reason to believe aliens are hiding here on Earth, and in the Nevada desert in particular. You see, a few years ago, anauthor I admire, and who publishes my favorite long-running online space opera serial released an unsettling post on his blog. It detailed his real-life encounter with bona fide aliens hiding in the middle of the desert less than an hour outside of Vegas.
To most, it might have seemed like utterly made-up conspiracy theory nonsense. But what instantly set my internal sensors off was that the post was taken down only a few scant hours after it went live. It wasn’t until a day later that the author issued a hasty retraction, but that follow-up post seemed forced and oddly unbelievable in comparison to what he had written about so passionately the first time.
Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued.
Of course, KirklovesSpock4eva—as he is known—may have removed the original post, but as any Internet nerd knows, screenshots are forever. And you better believe I took screenshots!
I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to pinpoint the exact location in the desert where the author claimed to have found a secret alien base, but to no avail. Granted, I can’t explore quite as often as I would like. But when I have free time, I come out here and continue to search for extraterrestrial life.
Right now, I have more free time than usual.
My phone rings, and I smile when my sister’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hi, Gemma.”
“Hey, big bro. How’s it going out there in the desert?”
“Good. Thanks for looking after Wanda for me.”
She snorts with amusement. “Looking after a fish isn’t exactly hard work.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds, “Maybe with the changes going on in your life right now, you might actually be able to adopt some other pets like you’ve wanted to.”
I wince. For the last five years, I’ve been working at a veterinary practice in Vegas as their exotic animal specialist. Things had been going great, and I’d just finished paying off my grad school student loans, but the two owners of the clinic—a husband-and-wife duo—have decided they’re ready to retire. Now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next. I don’t have enough capital to buy the business from them, and I’m loath to go into debt again after finally paying off my degrees. Basically, I have to look at starting all over at a new clinic or going into business for myself.
For whatever reason, neither option has struck a chord with me.
Could I be experiencing a midlife crisis already? Thirty-five seems rather young for that, but what do I know?
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that too,” I admit to Gemma. “I feel like the last fifteen years have been nothing but working my ass off and ignoring everything else but my career.”
Gemma sighs. “Tell me about it. Becoming a doctor was always my dream, but now that I’m here, I’m exhausted. Healthcare in this country is in crisis and the fucking insurance companies make me want to pull my hair out on a daily basis. And there’s so much more bureaucratic bullshit and paperwork to deal with than I ever imagined.”
“How did we end up such miserable overachievers?”
She laughs. “Fuck if I know.”
“Nana and Gramps raised us right.”
“Damn but I miss them,” she whispers.
Our mother was a free spirit who had a tendency to dump her responsibilities on her loving and far too generous parents. When she got pregnant with me in her early twenties, she entrusted me to my grandparents’ care less than a year after I was born and disappeared to parts unknown. Almost six years later, she reappeared with my infant sister in tow. She stayedwith us for two days before doing her vanishing act again, this time leaving Gemma behind.
Both of us were lucky that our Nana and Gramps loved us more than enough to make up for our shitty mom. Neither of us had an idea who our fathers were, although it’s clear we had different ones based on our lack of similarity in appearance.
“I still love being a vet,” I admit, “but the stress and the downsides of the profession are making me question a lot of things right now.”
