Page 49 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

"Los Lobos kick your ass!"

The mint on her breath mingles with the burnt shapeshifter smell still lingering in the air. Her stance screams challenge, but there's something else in her eyes. A message.

"Los Lobos kick your face!"

She leans even closer, practically touching noses. Behind her, the gang continues their synchronized cleanup operation.

"Los Lobos kick your balls into outer space!"

Those fierce green eyes. I know them anywhere, even framed by electric purple hair. My Aileen. Relief floods through me as I sweep her into my arms, claiming her mouth with mine. Her lips taste of mint and victory.

"Aww." Selene's voice cuts through the moment. "Isn't that sweet."

"Sweet?" Sam's pitch rises. "Can't you see what our daughter has done to her hair? What will the neighbors think?" He waves his hands at Aileen's purple locks. "Are you watching the Japanimation with the street gangs and the tentacles and the schoolgirls?"

Jefe Rios pauses mid-sweep, dustpan hovering above the floor. His eyes narrow at Sam. "You know a lot about tentacle porn, essay."

"So, uh, about all these aliens trying to get my restaurant..." Sam's voice trails off as he glances between me and the still-smoking pizza oven.

"It's time I showed you why." I lead them toward the basement door. The familiar creak of wooden stairs echoes as we descend into musty darkness.

"Watch your step," I say, activating my wrist computer's light source. The blue glow illuminates decades of dust and cobwebs.

Sam coughs. "Nothing down here but the boiler and my collection of—I mean, just the boiler."

I press my palm against the metal surface of the ancient heating unit. A soft hum emanates from within as hidden scanners read my biological signature. The boiler slides sideways with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a gleaming corridor beyond.

Selene gasps. "That's been here the whole time?"

"Since 1947." I key in the access code. "Your building sits on top of something far more important than a pizza restaurant."

The corridor stretches before us, its polished metal walls reflecting our faces like fun house mirrors. Blue light pulses along recessed tracks in the floor, leading deeper underground.

"This is just like that movie with the—" Sam starts.

"Follow me." I cut him off before he can start another science fiction tangent. "Stay close, and don't touch anything."

My compad chirps as we descend deeper into the facility. The readings make no sense - energy levels barely register above background radiation.

"This can't be right." I tap the screen, but the numbers remain stubbornly low. "There should be enough power here to level Chicago."

"Maybe your alien detector needs new batteries," Sam says.

The corridor opens into a vast chamber. Dust covers ancient control panels and dead monitors. At the center stands a massive cylinder, frost coating its surface.

"Is that..." Aileen's purple hair glows in the emergency lighting. "A cryo pod?"

"Yes." I approach the cylinder, wiping away decades of ice. "But something's wrong. The power readings are too low. The stasis field should be?—"

Red warning lights flash across my compad's screen. The cylinder hums to life, its surface beginning to warm.

"No." I frantically key commands into the nearest console. "No no no."

"What's happening?" Selene grabs Sam's arm.

"We triggered the wake-up sequence." My claws scratch against the metal as I try to abort the procedure. "The pod's emergency protocols detected our presence."

Steam hisses from vents around the base. The frost melts away, revealing the figure inside. Seven feet of black scales with crimson highlights. Muscle mass beyond even Vakutan norms.

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