The Fellowship For Alien Detection - Plot & Excerpts
Dodger couldn’t close his mouth. His teeth were vibrating like his mouth had been invaded by an army of tiny dentist drills. He tore his hands from the radio. The broadcast ceased. Dodger toppled back on the dirt, banging his head on the stone square. He gasped for breath, his eyes watering. “Dude . . .” Without turning his head, Sid reached out and punched R2 in the shoulder. “Ow! What?” “What do you think, you Spice Mine reject?” Sid pointed at Dodger. “He’s one of them.” “O-one of who?” R2 stammered. “What do you think? He’s an . . . he’s an alien. Or a hybrid, or something.” Dodger fought to get to his elbows. “Sorry, I—” he stammered because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Sid was peering at him. R2 looked like he might run away screaming. “What are you?” Sid asked. Dodger just stared back at him. “I’m not anything. I just . . .” Dodger thought he might as well admit it. “I get this radio station in my head sometimes.”
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