(No "action" in this one, FYI)
TD sat as far back as he could. Everything about the Sneaks totally creeped him out, but he couldn't afford to finish his abnormal psych class with a "C," so the instructor had relented and said if he did an extra paper on something current and it was a decent paper...
Maybe he could pull some shifts in a treatment facility, the prof had said. He had a secret phobia about those locked-in places, and mumbled some excuse about needing something closer to campus. And then, dammit, the Sneak lectures came to mind.
He'd stammered out the suggestion. Hating it. But he needed to up his grade.
Sitting there - coming to where a Sneak was going to be - felt spooky. It didn't matter if a couple hundred other people were there. He had a wild thought about the doors magically locking, and a cocky voice somewhere above him kicking out a triumphant growl.
His pen slipped out of his hand. Dammit. Almost like it was bumped from between his fingers. TD reached down -
And a hand slid up his ribs. Right side.
Like... a greeting. Over and gone, before he even started to react.
He grunted, tensing up. Damn, but it took all he had not to spring up and run.
No one else was within reach.
He looked around, trying not to panic. This was a bad idea, real bad, and any second now guys would start squalling, rising into the air, maybe pinned back against their seat as their t-shirts lifted up to expose all that skittish real estate -
A prof started walking to the podium.
Screw this, TD thought.
But having a "C" on his transcript would screw up any chance of getting a decent internship...
"Good evening," the instructor said, waiting for silence.
The hand on his side - naw, that had to have been his imagination. TD took a couple deep breaths and settled down. He could catch enough of the lecture to bullshit his way through, and get his ass out of here.
"I'm Doctor Jimenez," the prof continued. "Sociology chair. No one's expecting you to believe everything you're about to hear. I'd advise against being too disrespectful, though. Cocky. You don't want to invite the consequences, yes? And now, I'll turn to mic over to Higger."
He walked off.
The gooseneck mic holder moved - which couldn't have been necessary, really, but it sure did grab everybody's attention.
"Hey there," a voice said. Male, low, sorta gravelly. "Some of you may have heard already, but for those who didn't - I have one condition for doing this lecture-thing. Smoking is permitted in this hall until the event is over."
Murmurs, laughter, and a couple of people started to clap.
"I'm not kidding. Pass 'em around. I like the smoke. Without going into complete detail, it's pleasing to me. And naturally I have other reasons. If that's a problem for you, take off now. One of my associates will do a nonsmoking lecture on Monday night. I trust you're smart enough to figure out some makeshift ashtrays, and not leave a bunch of litter on the floor. Do that, and there won't be any consequences for any of you. Got it?"
More lazy applause.
"When there's enough of you breaking that rule, we'll get started."
TD looked around nervously. A lot of other people were just as confused. Here and there people started lighting up. One scruffy hispter had a cigar going, and a group of women a few rows in front of him started passing a bowl...
He realized he wanted a cigarette.
No, make that he needed one. His hand dug out his pack...
Twenty or thirty seconds went by.
"C'mon, Brooks. You too. No one will dare to rat you out, or they'll have me to deal with. And Ty - I know you're fiending for one. Plus, it really pisses off the deans." Most of the audience laughed at that. "They can write up a letter. Or a citation. Good luck delivering that."
TD saw that most of the crowd was relaxing. Some other people in the back rows looked pretty vigilant, whether they were smoking or not. They weren't letting their guard down either.
"Alright. Good going, Ty. Better, huh? So... My name is Higger, as you heard. I'm what you animals call a 'Sneak.' I'm not a ghost, or a mass hallucination. Since we decided to go public about ten months ago, most of you have accepted that we exist without too much trauma. For simplicity, say that we created a wormhole between our alternate-Earth and yours. We've been messing with you humans for decades - Hiroshima got our attention, you could say - but it's good to preserve some of the mystery, right? Always leave 'em wanting more..."
A few people chuckled.
"This is not a recruiting drive. So just relax, Jessica. Yeah, you, with the Spongebob panties. I hardly need to say that we grab anyone we want to, whenever we want. Some of you are already in the crosshairs. That's the breaks."
A few people groaned.
"Here's why I'm up here tonight. Straight up, the main goal for me is to prepare some of you unlucky slobs for what's coming. A little time to accept the inevitable makes all the difference, sometimes. I also want to convince a few others that we're real. This isn't some elaborate hoax your profs are pulling. So I'm willing to part with a little intel in order to achieve those goals. There's a lot of CJ majors here, and some hard science geeks, but... Shit, let's just see how this goes."
Taking another hard drag, TD settled a little lower in his chair. Good news was they didn't come the the U to hunt - supposedly - but the bad news seemed to be that they had free run everywhere, and snatched whoever they wanted. So that wasn't exactly reassuring.
It could be that they had already picked their targets, after sifting through the student body. Some of the people in his classes wouldn't graduate - because they'd be kidnapped. That had been going on all year, but he avoided thinking about it as much as he could.
TD shivered.
They could just grab anybody, anytime. Keep 'em crazed. It was worse to hear 'em admit it - gloat about it! - since before they were just sick rumors...
"Tribal loyalty. Yeah, that can be a tough one," the voice was saying. "It depends on the time pressure. Now don't forget that very few situations really need an immediate answer. A big show of force - I mean, an overwhelming personal threat - is the way to go, there. But usually you can work toward getting more information, and know that it's truthful. Even things no tough guy in his right mind would admit. That takes time. Serious pain is a terrible tool, since you can do just as well with delirium."
TD's attention was grabbed by that last word, and he realized he'd been daydreaming. He took a drag and then wondered when he'd lit another cigarette.
The audience was fairly riveted, staring at the unmanned podium. A couple of people were leaving, and a few others were conversing among themselves. They looked skeptical.
"Doing it our way, the subject's motive isn't to make the pain stop. There isn't pain, and they've already been persuaded that the stimulation isn't going to end when they spill their guts. Pleasurable exhaustion," the Sneak said, "and repeating the same questions a dozen, two dozen times... that's really more reliable than any truth serum you have available."
"Meaning, Sneaks have other options," a guy said.
"You know that. Oh - you mean, beyond reading your thoughts. Yeah. I can turn off that ability and obtain information through, um, various methods of persuasion. It's easy. You're all a bunch of pushovers. Professor Llewellyn is finishing up a paper on our interrogation techniques. Now there's a valued colleague."
That last word was heavy with extra meaning. Shit, TD thought - as others murmured and snickered - a prof is in their clutches? And it just admits that, straight out.
Who's gonna be able to do anything about it?
"Next question." It chuckled. "Sluggo. The amateur boxer. Born March 25."
A guy got to his feet, looking cowed.
"Creepy, man."
"You're thinking about something - very deliberately - and yet you don't want me to say it. That has nothing to do with your question, but it's relevant to just about everybody here -"
"Alright," the guy groaned dramatically. "You got me. Like I can deny it now, huh? It's... spanking. That just does me in. Bad girls..."
"And there's bad boys who need it too," Higger said. The crowd liked that. "Oh, baby. But that took guts to say, Sluggo. I respect that. And nearly everyone here has solid... kinks. So stupid, isn't it? To consider 'em aberrations? Shameful? There's more spanking enthusiasts in this room than you think. And every other kind of game, for sexy-time. The electrical energy that rolls off your forebrains when you're thinking about 'em is just compelling."
"Uh-oh," Sluggo said.
The crowd laughed along.
"Every one of you. Fantasies don't have to proceed into action, obviously, much less sexual assault. You can't decide to accept or fight what's in there until you admit you've got... inclinations. Preferences. It's long past the point where your species is better off pretending that deviant behavior is somehow dangerous."
A few people applauded.
"Be careful what you wish for, though. As if you can stop yourself... But Sluggo's question has to do with mass hallucination. Wish fulfillment. I'm making extraordinary claims, about what I am - where I come from - and qualitative proof is a reasonable demand. We've brought humans to our Earth. And back again. We're willing to do just about any experiment you like to prove that we're discrete, and... willful. Seems only fair."
"To get our guard down," someone joked.
"Well, sometimes. But it's hardly necessary," the Sneak said. "We take what we want. You've reached a point where a better understanding about us is a net gain. All the way around."
TD doubted that. He couldn't see what was really in it for the Sneaks -
"I'm getting a lot of skepticism, suddenly," Higger said. "from different quarters. You can't defeat us, and yet there must be some other goal for being this candid. But never forget that your approval isn't needed. And of course I'm not going to tell you everything we're up to. What you get to do tonight is consider what I've revealed and investigate it, or disregard it, as you see fit."
A woman with glasses seemed thoroughly irritated. "Are you getting enough volunteers, this way?"
The Sneak chuckled. "Yes. That was insightful. Some people just need a nudge - not you in particular, Prijatelj, I never said you signed up for this shit. It's a much bigger plan. And everyone else, please take note I'm not revealing who -"
"What the hell," a guy said. "Okay."
"My man. Chuff, here, is one of our best buds. Our prijatelj. He's been in our clutches for awhile. Three years and change. Hell of a guy. We made him consult on a special project of ours. We're testing the theory that if enough of you are Sneak-buddies, there won't be any serious effort to stop us. One way we're slipping past your collective ideas of what's fair and unfair is to set up some guys like Chuff here as... passive recruiters. We want to make it easy for those of you who are receptive to what we have to offer. Interested. Is it altruistic, on our part? Of course not." Sinister chuckles. "Then again, the fringe benefits for our buddies are extraordinary."
The haze was thick. TD had somehow burned through five or six cigarettes...
"Alright, I'm done answering questions. Publicly. But - hey, number 54, of the Fighting Huskies, I already fielded that one, so you need to ask your frat brother there since I guess you weren't paying attention. Three of you really want a quick conversation in private, and... Aw, hell. Any of you who care to, just come sit in the front row after this ends and I'll stick around for a while. Hey - miss 'second chair flutist', you hang around for a word with me or I'll hunt you down later. Those are very interesting ideas. And for the skydiving videographer - he didn't want to leave you. That was us. We like Jesse a lot. A reunion is in order, huh? A long one. Big fun. Oh, yeah."
Way over to TD's left, a guy gasped. He looked like he'd been slapped.
"Confidential message to, uh, Barkovich's former owner. Challenge accepted. You stuck your foot in it this time! One of my associates will start... pursuing... at ten o'clock sharp. You'll be getting what you deserve by eleven. No backing out of it now. Cancel your appointments for the rest of the week."
The crowd stirred, and a couple of people clapped.
"And you - the one considering the tattoo - with the word 'Tempus' in it - since you already decided to take next semester off, a personalized work-study program is... a very good fit."
TD felt particularly sorry for that guy. Maybe it was better not to know what was coming.
Such massive relief to hustle out of the building. Free!
But vigilance. Suspicion. He felt hunted. Reached for his smokes -
The pack was full. Damn - it hadn't even been opened! Last thing he knew, in the hall there, he only had two or three cigarettes left.
He stared at 'em. Brand new pack.
"Hey," a guy said behind him.
TD finally looked up from the cigarettes, turned - and saw a big guy, to his right, getting ready to light a smoke of his own.
"Anything weird just happen?"
Confused at first, TD just let his mouth hang open. He held up the new pack.
"Sneaky sons of bitches, huh? It's gonna be okay," the guy told him. He lit up, studying TD lazily as he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here. Talk later."
And he was gone.
Feeling really doomed now... and yet almost too calm, TD opened the note.
To TD, who has some wild stories about why he's done with tequila (you really locked yourself in your own trunk? Amusing, "Cheetah." No wonder you never told a soul!) -
Chuff is the big ape who handed you this note. He's your new adviser. Mentor, if you will.
You get to move off-campus. Take a lighter class load. I've arranged a special scholarship. Congrats. The specialized work assignment is gonna be intense.
Obviously this has been in the works. It's all set now. I let you hear from Higger so you could have more information before the fun begins.
Absolutely no harm will come to you.
There is zero chance you'll get away from me.
Expert tickling. Brace yourself, dude.
- Nazz
22dec12