133 lines
4.3 KiB
Plaintext
133 lines
4.3 KiB
Plaintext
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BUGGY
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Copyright 1991, Andrew P. Varga
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My car door closed with a soft ca-thunk. Another
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happy day at the happy office was over, complete,
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finished, and somehow survived. Customer complaints,
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parts out of tolerance, a project that would take six
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weeks to complete if I hurried tossed on my desk by the
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boss on his way out to the golf course at noon, and a
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meeting with an unbearably verbose salesman bent on
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selling me unnecessary equipment at exorbitant prices.
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I was glad to be home.
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I was following the walk to the steps leading to my
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back door, my book-laden briefcase pulling at my fingers.
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I took stock of the evening as I trudged toward the
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house. It was too late to replace the broken window in
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the garage. This morning's overflowing trashcan is still
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overflowing, let it go until tomorrow. Changing the oil
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in the car tonight was too much to even think about. Even
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the dust on my shoes could wait another day.
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Sunshine dodged a cloud for a moment. This section of
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sidewalk needs replaced someday too, I thought. Something
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flashed, making me half-step and stumble to avoid it.
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Obviously metal, it gleamed rainbow colors, like a
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small piece of well-polished stainless steel dipped in
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oil. Maybe it was something that had fallen from my
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daughter's bike.
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"Oh goody," I said, "something else needs fixed."
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Bending, I reached for it, to put it in my pocket so
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it wouldn't get lost before I reattached it, wherever it
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went.
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It moved!
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"Honey!" I shouted, taking the back steps two at a
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time, my briefcase released somewhere in between. "Quick!
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I need an iron box! With a lid! And a lock! Do the kids
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have any miniature electronic toys?"
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"Why no," she said, reaching into a cupboard. "Why?"
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"Then we've been invaded!" I panted. "Probably
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extraterrestrials traveling on reduced fuel through
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self-miniaturization! I read about it once! Assimov or
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Vonnegut or somebody. Where's that iron box? Do we maybe
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have one lined with lead?" I remembered the words `death
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ray'. Orson Wells, maybe.
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"Will this do?" She calmly handed me a quart canning
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jar and a lid.
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"We don't have a very small lead-lined iron box with a
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heavy locking lid?"
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"No, we don't."
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"This will have to do," I bravely took the future
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prison of the interstellar invader.
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"Let me see it," she said as I turned for the door.
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"Stay inside!" I called over my shoulder. "I'll tell
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you when its safe."
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Crouching low, I hunted it down the back steps, a
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not-too-easy feat.
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It had traveled a few inches from where I had first
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seen it. Its iridescence orange, blue, green, and gold
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shone so, I swear that it glowed. Probably some new
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special super metal alloy, discolored by the heat of entry
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into Earth's atmosphere.
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I moved to one side, carefully tilting the jar into
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its path. No little space ship's gonna lazer-zap me!
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It stopped at the lip of the jar! I quickly gave it a
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nudge with the lid.
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:Caughtcha!" I announced to my prisoner. It gleamed
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and glowed its little rainbow colors. Maybe its rays
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can't penetrate glass I thought.
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"I've got it!" I shouted, proudly showing my wife.
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"Quick, call the papers! Call NASA! Call Mom!"
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Looking up from the jar, she gave me one of those
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kind, understanding smiles like she does.
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"And tell them what? That you've managed to bravely
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hunt down and safely capture a Japanese beetle?"
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