Alien and the Wedding Planner

Ice snorted. This wasn’t his first either. He’d been to Crimea’s moon several times, but this was his first to a foreign planet and a foreign solar system.

The cruiser shook as they approached the Earth’s surface. Ice observed through the cockpit shield as the landscape of the blue planet welcomed them in her wide-swallowing cerulean embrace. The blue turned green and before long, they found themselves surrounded by thick vegetation as the cr

uiser deployed the anti-gravity field to absorb the landing shock. The cloaking system operated on one hundred percent capability, shielding them from any radar that might pick up the signal of their arrival. The hiss and soft whirr of machines painted the background. Five minutes later, Ice and Commander Storm stepped on Earth’s soil for the first time.

Dried twigs and leaves crunched softly beneath their boots. The breeze was surprisingly pleasant, more so than he originally anticipated. Ice had arranged the landing zone in a place called the Wolf Lake Park Reserve. It offered ample space to hide the now-invisible cruiser, but close enough to the heart of human population.

With his mental tap, Ice opened the BCI—Brain Computer Interface—through his neural implant to find out the local time. Within his peripheral field, a toggle flipped down and revealed twenty minutes to dawn. He then activated the record function to capture everything he saw from his retinas.

Following a local map, they walked into a nearby town called Whiting, Indiana. According to his calculation, this place was strategic to launch their first-contact mission.

They encountered their first human about ten minutes into the walk. It was a young male with a scrawny body and narrow face. His hair was the color of murky water and his garb hung loose on his thin frame. The human watched them with its mouth hung open.

“That alien is staring at us,” Commander Storm whispered at Ice.

“We are the aliens, Commander,” Ice reminded him. “This is their planet.” Ice waved at the human, attempting a human-style greeting he learned from the broadcast.

The young male didn’t return Ice’s gesture. Instead, he pulled out a thin rectangular device and aimed it in their direction.

Storm tensed. His hand automatically groped where he kept his weapon. Ice stopped him. It appeared Storm’s combat conditioning made him sensitive for any sign of hostility.

“What is he doing?” Storm growled.

“Probably recording us. He must deem us as oddities and want to share what he sees with his friends. Humans are very social creatures.”

“Shall I shoot him?”

“Don’t you dare.” Ice shoved Commander Storm to move forward. “Don’t. You. Dare! Just ignore him and continue our walk.”

“I don’t like the idea of our presence being recorded. Are you sure I can’t shoot him? There are seven billion humans on this planet. They won’t miss one.”

“Commander!” Ice hissed through his teeth. “This is why I insisted to be on this first-contact mission. Had you sent your recon unit, you’d massacre half the planet.” Ice insisted that the military followed his instruction in this expedition. Common protocol required Crimea commanders and high-ranking crew stay on the ship when they landed on a foreign planet. Initiating first contact was the scouts’ job. When Storm found out Ice planned to descend by himself, he demanded that he accompany Ice. Protocol also dictated military presence in government-funded missions.

“Well.” Commander Storm huffed indignantly. “It just so happens I prefer a straightforward approach. It’s easier to conquer this planet and force them to spill their secrets. Hang a few dozen corpses in the rafters and they’ll be eager to talk.”

“Absolutely not. Emperor Chaos entrusted this mission to me and we’ll do this my way. That includes you, Commander.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t ask for my help when the humans truss you up like a swine and carry you on a bamboo pole to your unlucky demise. I don’t see how anyone can still be alive after being stewed in a giant cauldron.”

Ice felt his temple with his fingertips as a headache closed in. “Modern humans do not practice that barbaric ritual anymore. Besides, the broadcast you watched yesterday was a movie; not an educational documentary.”

“Fictitious film?”

“Yes.”

Commander Storm grumbled. “I don’t understand humans.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Well.” Storm glanced around. “We’d better go do something about our appearance if we want to blend in. More and more humans are looking at us suspiciously.”

He was right. As they got closer to the residence area, their presence attracted unsuspecting onlookers. Ice spotted a store that seemed to be selling men’s clothing. He pounced at the chance to make his first purchase. He signaled Commander Storm to follow his lead.

The shop was called “Thrift Store” and they stocked used goods from clothing to furniture and items that looked strange to him. The shop hadn’t opened yet, but Ice caught the sight of its shopkeeper. The human seemed surprised to see them. He unlocked the door and let them in.

“Good morning, sire. We’d like to purchase some men’s clothes. The regular men’s clothes. Do you have them?” asked Ice. “We’re in town for a convention.”

The shopkeeper scrutinized them from head to toe. “No shit. Are you guys larping or something?” he asked with curiosity.