Alien (part I)

"Aliens".

Or ETs. Extraterrestrials. Beings from another planet. After all, do they exist? Is there life outside space? Life outside Earth? Are we alone in an infinite universe or is there more intelligent life out there?

These are questions that bother many scientists and pseudoscientists since technology made the study of celestial bodies possible. Several films or stories even fantastically portray the conception of the existence of alien beings, sometimes inhuman and lethal, sometimes more human than Earthlings, sometimes intelligent, sometimes just animals. However most of the time they are portrayed from the same frame: a humanoid form, as if differing from us in only a limited set of properties

Those who have been selected to work for SAD know: All of these features depicted in the movies are correct. Aliens do exist, yes. And they have even come down to Earth. Several times. Moreover, they are humanoid beings differing only a few points in our race. Some are clever, some are just animals, some are lethal predators, some are merciful. There is as much diversity in them as there is diversity in the typical human being.

But because they are beings whose existence is not yet ready to be revealed to the media, they end up being added to one of the ten races on the SAD list of objects of interest of our line of work.

Last time I told you about zombies. It was the first race I talked aboutu. Now I'm revealing the existence of aliens. I intend to reveal the ten races and gradually expose their characteristics so that the whole thing does not end up being too tedious.

Aliens, as the name implies, are beings who came from other planets. Most often from the neighboring planets, Mars and Arena. While Mars is known to be one of the two closest planets to Earth, the existence of the even closer Arena is unknown to general public. The reason for this is that it is easy to make people believe that there is no life on Mars, since every intelligent life there has underground habits, but it is not so easy to hide life in Arena.

Arena is the closest planet to Earth, even closer than Venus. It is a tiny planet with a radius of about six hundred miles, which is smaller than the moon itself. However, this is where the greatest diversity of species lives, coming from the nearest and distant planets. All beings that are considered dangerous end up being transferred there as a form of punishment, while escapees also move there as a way to avoid punishment on their home planet. A land of no law where everyone fights against each other to ensure their survival, making the name of Arena appropriate.

There are several types of aliens of interest to SAD (read: intelligent), but we Terrans, for lack of knowledge, ended up historically putting them all under the same umbrella term: aliens.

So far all types who dared come down to Earth in order to disturb SAD are either human-looking or may change their physical appearance to human-looking in some way. Which for us is awesome, because the last thing we want to do is chase down green monsters and then try to convince journalists that it was some kind of alligator that fled the zoo.

The essential difference between an alien and a zombie is that the alien is not inherently dangerous to society, since it does not necessarily feed on human flesh. It is an omnivorous being like us and can survive perfectly based on animal meat and vegetables. In this case, an alien is not seen as a murderer but as an illegal 'alien'.

For this reason SAD does not go out investigating every single cases of aliens that appear, instead stick only to those that really cause a problem of a heavier criminal nature.

Similar to the zombie, aliens have some features that stand out compared to humans: most types can move unnaturally. To cite examples imagine a man climbing the wall like a gecko, or folding his arms both up and down, or being able to easily catch mosquitoes with his fingers as they hover in the air... In general various movements that are commonplace in domesticated and wild animals thought cannot be imitated by humans; these feats can be found in the alien race.

As I said before: not all aliens are equal. Not everyone will be able to do all of these things, but surely they will all be able to do something that a human being can't.

This way, physical peculiarities would be a first way of detecting an alien among us. The second way to do this is to look at its inside: The internal composition of every kind of alien seen so far never resembles the human. Some even differ in color from flesh or blood. One can easily spot the difference with an x-ray, for example. Unfortunately, we don't walk around with x-ray apparatuses to detect, nor do we deeply injure our suspects so we can take a quick look inside, so when necessary, we usually use the first way.

In order to kill an alien one needs to separate its main body part (something containing the chest and head if looked from externally) and leave that part separated for about eighteen hours. Any other injury can be restored to some extent and will not result on its death.

To all intents and purposes, aliens can be thought of as a mixture of human and animal. If a human had in addition physical traits of an animal, he would be a typical inhabitant of Arena or Mars. Needless to say, this implies that an alien is naturally much stronger and more agile than a normal human being

Than a normal human being.

But if an alien wanted to fight with me, who can take a blow to the face of a fishing box carried by a zombie who smashed a two-inch solid glass with a single punch... That's another story.

Speaking of such, I think I owe you an explanation of that incident: the thing is: when dealing with paranormal beings like zombies we need specialized personnel, otherwise it would happen as it did with George and Carl on that day. This is why most of the time either SAD agents themselves are also paranormal beings themselves or are intensely trained to deal with these abominable races.

I too am much physically stronger than an ordinary human being, so I resisted the blow Sprohic dealt to me with that fishing box, but don't go out telling that to anyone.

It was a day after the capture of Jeffrey Sprohic. Although I let Crane loose the day before, today she had to show to work since morning once again. Lieutenant Dotson gives no rest to his subordinates.

"Murdered between sixteen and half past sixteen on Tuesday, Name: Gerald McMiller, age 35, Caucasian, native of Silverbay. Cause of Death: Running Over." Crane read the information from the report we received at dawn between yesterday and today, with her usual impassive and formal stance.

"Run over!? Of all possibilities they had they come up with this? He had a big bite on his back!"

"I believe they modified the wound later as to make it look like a run over."

"I don't know why these legislative cretins insist on hiding the truth... It would be so much better if everyone knew when they had a zombie on the loose. People would be more careful." I exhaled smoke from my cigarette once more. "The poor bloke will roll in the grave, for sure. He may even become a zombie himself! If he won't turn via virus spread he'll turn to take revenge on who came up with this idiot death."

I made a short pause. I noticed Crane was quietly putting up with the smoke coming out of my mouth. It was going toward her. I decided to smash the cigarrette on the ashtray on my desk.

"So...? You said you had another report? From that old couple?"

"Yes:"

"Citizen Gelson Hernandez reported at 2:00 on Thursday: He spotted a long-haired young man who jumped from his neighbors' residence to his own. Hernandez lost sight of him shortly thereafter. Concerned, he went out and looked from the neighboring window and found the two bodies, then called the police. The police arrived about forty minutes later, where they performed the autopsy and found that the cause of their death was a heart attack. Preliminary analysis revealed natural death. There is no evidence of burglary or visit at the residence. One of the victims is Margareth Johnson, and the other, an estimated sixty-five-year-old man, remains unidentified. It's the report."

"What do you mean, unidentified? Didn't he live with the old woman? Must have been the husband."

"It appears Margareth Johnson is a widow since 1993, lieutenant."

I scratched my chop.

"What about the suspect, the young long-haired man...?"

"Nothing." Crane answered.

"Simultaneous natural death. They decided to have a heart attack on the very same day. What an unfortunate coincidence for them both, no...?"

I drummed my fingers on the table as I pondered. Crane stood in front of me, staring at me steadily. She could pass as weird for that, but I was used to it. There was a knock on the door. Then it opened, from where a woman joined the room

She was a young woman with a long red hair, straightened and lovingly tied. Her fair skin enhanced the freckles scattered throughout her body giving her a childish aura. However, this aura contrasted with her elegant and mature way of dressing, wearing a short social piece of beautiful dark red, but without being flashy. Her voice came soft and sweet as she asked that banal question

"Excuse me, lieutenant Henry Dotson?"

"That'd be me."

"I'm Ewalyn Lowe, you know... The transfer from North Kingston Hill's department."

"Oh, that's right. You're taking Cuco's place."

Cuco was a great detective, but he eventually retired due to age. He was not old, but since he is not human and has shorter life expectancy they make different labor right laws. We were without Cuco for over three months. So currently I was only with Joey and the wretched Chapman as detectives.

I had forgotten, but Thursday was the day the detective to replace his office would arrive. She was working in the North K Hill department, but since they had a few detectives to spare (and plus, compared to Sproustown also had less cases) the government finally decided to redistribute.

I was glad to finally have one more detective to count on, and even more pleased that she was a young redhead with shimmering personality.

She reminded me of my wife Jane back when she wasn't grumpy.

"So..? How are you liking... Sproustown?"

"Ah... I enjoy it..." she replied while looking discreetly around my room, "just the air can be a little polluted..."

I pushed the ashtray away from the table to the far side of the wall.

"Excuse me, sir." Crane bowed briefly and left.

I got up and approached to greet Lowe properly.

"Come. I'll show you the department." She followed me.

The SAD department had a large reception room with a central desk where Joey Meyers and the secretary Emma Crane worked. The table was too big for both of them, occupying sixteen by six and a half feet. Also the room itself had at least four times the table area. Ironically, beyond the table there was not much in the room: the chairs, the fountain, another corner coffee table, and a little cabinet where there were some files and other materials. The case files were all stored in my office. The rest of the room was just empty space.

In addition to the elevator door, the reception room had two more doors: One to my office, from which Lowe and I had just left, and one that was always open, that lead to a corridor.

Extending my hand toward the table, I introduced:

"This is Crane. The Secretary. You may have already met," Lowe nodded as Crane just glanced over. "When he isn't anywhere else Joey is here as well."

"And here's the boss' room," I said after entering the hallway to the right of Crane's office. I tried the door and went inside. It was a room exactly like mine, except there was nothing messy on the table. No one was inside there.

"Is the boss... Lieutenant Sarah Harmon?" she asked, glancing at the name plate on the glass of the door.

"It's captain now."

"I certainly remember her. We worked together on the governor's son's case in Kingston Hill. She is one of the best I've ever seen."

"Did you work on the case of Pearson's son?"

"Yep. It took a long time to get the guy, what with all that political involvement with the police and all, but... The memory I have is that she did everything herself." She let out a short laugh.

"Then you already know each other. It won't be hard to adapt here. In comparison to that intricate, politically involved affair; catching a zombie or two won't be a problem for you here in Sproustown."

"Yep. I hope not." Lowe looked around moving her body left and right rhythmically.

"Oh! I'll show you the training room."

We left Sarah's office and continued down the hallway. It turned into a ramp that led down to a huge corridor with glass windows. Through the windows you could see the courtyard where the cars stood, and beyond that the support staff adjoining building. The windows were huge occupying the width of the entire corridor, only a meter below them and a little more between the top of the glass and the ceiling were made of cement. We proceeded on to the end of the corridor and started to hear gunshots.

"It's Joey," I explained in advance.

We entered the training room and Joey was equipped with a 12-gauge and was wearing a huge pair of headphones. He fired at the targets, holding the gun single handedly. He noticed our presence and as soon as he saw Lowe he began to show off. As he stared at us, he continued firing shots at the targets tied on the running machine which were moving at fixed speed. He always hit the targets.

Lowe must've kept thinking on something to say but she didn't.

"Ah, you guys are here. Here it's like this. No cakewalk. Everyone has to hit the middle of the damned ones," Joey said as he took off the phones and came towards us to greet. Amazingly, he was actually hitting the targets in the center, therefore his phrase was no exaggeration.

Lowe frowned lightly at me, as if wondering if I really demanded that from the employees. But she didn't even ask verbally

I explained:

"It's Joey's finesse."

'Finesse' is a term used among paranormal beings. Remember I said a zombie has a more developed mind than a human being: as soon as he is born he can match a mentally mature adult in just a few days of adaptation. So one might imagine that something in his brain occurs so that he learns differently

Some humans also learn differently. While some can speak a new language in just a few months, others spend more than six years studying it without getting anywhere. It's just an example. In humans, apart from the difference in the method of learning, there is the matter of persistence. Someone who wants to learn to draw, even if they don't use a very good learning system, can eventually reach professional level with enough persistence. Someone else could have the ability to learn it in a lower timespan, but instead of persisting, they give up when they see they don't achieve an expected result with little effort.

World champions in the most varied tasks, as well as the most talented professionals most often owe their skill to a combination of these two things: effort and method.

What would happen then if a zombie decided to take the time to learn a basic task proficiently? As they naturally have greater learning capacity than humans, they would have to worry only about the aspect of persistence.

The same goes for the aliens. Most of them, resembling essentially a mixture of insects and humans, already have enough physical fitness to take no effort on learning any activity that requires a good physique. An alien could easily be one of the greatest contortionists or dancers if he spent some time on it, for instance.

Paranormal beings, because of their characteristics, always find a hobby they can get good on easily or quickly compared to a normal human being. When they really decide to seize this advantage and acquire a new skill through learning, this new skill in which they become proficient is called their finesse.

In our business, since we work with violence, that is, we have to use violence to capture other paranormal beings who also use violence in their actions; it is only natural we seek finesses that have to do with violence

Joey spent a lot of time practicing target shooting. He never leaves that room. That day was no exception. Adding his obsession with the accelerated learning method, after enough training he has the precision to hit exactly the middle of constantly moving targets, holding the gun with one hand and without looking.

If he is concentrating and holding the pistol with both hands in the correct position he can hit targets exactly in the middle when in random motion. This is certainly a useful finesse for a police officer.

Another example of finesse is Cole Chapman's, my other employee. He handles nylon threads with mastery. Why did he choose that? Someone who has unusual physical strength will want to employ such property in his finesse, making it possible to learn an impossible skill for a normal human. A nylon cord might not do much if one simply flings it roughly at someone nearby. However if a motorcycle goes through a stretched wire at high speed there can be a severe wound. Why does this happen? Because of the speed with which the wire was hurled against the rider's body.

Taking this into consideration, Chapman realized that if he could learn to hold a taut wire and use his extraordinary strength at its ends, it could be thrown against someone at close range with similar speed. So as a hobby, he sought to perfect the characteristics needed to use this technique in combat, from the angles with which he must throw a wire, to the correct force to apply, attaching the wires to things hanging on the wall making the slightest movement necessary with the rest of the body so that the wire has enough tension, and so on. Although there is no world champion of nylon thread cutting because humans do not have enough strength in their fingers for that, since Chapman is not a normal human, he can learn this finesse.

So be careful if you make Chapman mad when carrying a spool in his pockets and are in a narrow aisle with several places for him to attach some wires.

Naturally Lowe knew what finesse means, so she relaxed her shoulders as soon as I said that workout was Joey's speciality. I didn't demand that impeccable precision from my employees.

"What's up? Have you already gotten used to the lieutenant's smoky smell?" Joey asked Lowe, who just looked at me and smiled uncomfortably

It would be so good if Joey stood silent.

Addressing myself to Lowe, I changed the subject:

"So... That's basically what we have around here. Whenever you want coffee there is the kitchen..."

"You guys going back there already? I'll stay training some more..." Joey said.

"To be honest... We need you up back there as well. Another case has appeared."

"Other case?" Joey placed the gun in the designated holder.

"Murder. An elderly couple. One of them has no identity. Both died of natural death."

"Hey? But if it was natural death it is not of SAD's concern."

"The deaths occurred at the same time."

"..."

"Simultaneous natural death? But does that mean that ..?" Lowe started, "it's 'ductu'?"

I nodded slightly.

"That's what it looks like... If it really is 'ductu' we might have a big problem… Additionally... They caught a glimpse of an alien."

"An alien? How? What did he do?"

"So far we know it has just overdone a bit of parkour. It was seen near the crime scene at a coincidental time, jumping over rooftops or something. Hard to believe it has nothing to do with the deaths. I was going to check the place now. You're usually my partner Joey, but I was thinking of taking Lowe along, since it's her first day. What do you think, Lowe?"

"Fine by me." Her words were milder compared to the expression her face pictured. Her eyes seemed more like: 'I really really want to check the place'.

We left the training room and headed to the entrance. Since she wasn't doing much I also invited Crane, who was sitting in her chair with a bored countenance.

We agreed that the support staff would answer the calls in our absence and all four of us set off to the spot.