Tires squealing and crunching against the gravel road, we put the pedal to the metal as we drove to the Kaufmann family farm. Lucas decided the speed limit be damned—the only thing we would be prone to hitting on the single lane murrum was a cow that wandered into the road. I can't say I was fond of his flippant attitude, one near death was enough for one summer.

Needless to say, though it was late evening we did not run over any cows wandering back to their pens after a day in the pastures. While Lucas drove I was surfing the interwebs to see what the fuss was all about.

Someone had put up my pictures all over the net and I'd become an overnight celebrity sensation in the worst way—I was being touted as a victim of an alien abduction. They found it funny that someone had photoshopped my mug onto a red's uniform but I couldn't bring myself to find it amusing.

The only reason I wasn't dreading my inbox bursting with unsolicited message requests was because my profile at the birdhouse had been dormant for a while. Maybe I could lurk amongst threads and start putting out fires, change the narrative so to speak.

Or I could let it run its course—there was always a cycle to these things and I knew I would soon fade to the background of people's memories they’d had their dopamine fix. Also, I'd left my phone back at my apartment, it could ring itself to battery depletion for all I cared.

But that was not central to why Lucas' Ma had called us home. The actual scoop was live and on site as we pulled up to the driveway. I just happened to stumble into a live coverage as I took the first step onto the porch. Lucas' Ma was there, wiping her hands on a hand towel, and dusting off bits of flour as she walked into the porch.

Even though my attention was devoted wholly to the running commentary about what was happening, I could feel her eyes on me—another perk of whatever the hell the aliens did to me. I bet they wiped my memory too because I don't remember the extent of their meddling. When they found me, I had everything on me, from an almost depleted air tank to the wetsuit. Despite that, I had no incisions on my head and my brain scans came out clean.

“... the incident began at around CEST 1600hrs. Authorities say that the feature, herein referred to as the Baltic Sea anomaly, had shown signs of activity which were described as strange.”

The reporter was online and narrating events in real time. She was sheltering from a summer drizzle in the background using a station branded umbrella. Short auburn hair tousled as a breeze whipped by, but not strong enough that it could blow rain into her face. There were speed boats carving wakes as they circled around the area and divers were in the water en masse.

Tourists were goggling at the scene with excitement and camera flashes shuttered away and what they thought to be one in a lifetime occurrence. Humans would let curiosity precede caution if they could help it. I saw the Navy and its partners trying their level best to rein in the more daring of them to no avail.

“What exactly did they say was strange about this activity Olivia?” Said the news anchor from a minimized feed on the broadcast.

“ Ah—behind me, the location where the anomaly sits is currently frothing with waves. I could attempt to get a closer look,” the camera panned view. “ but as you can see, there are too many people and watercraft in the way. The first eyewitnesses were divers on-site and they mentioned that whirlpools were occurring under unexplained circumstances. Visibility of the feature, which has—for a long time been described as a chunk of glacier has now been obscured for a while—”

“Thank you Olivia,” the news anchor said as his feed maximized, subsuming the reporter's. “ More on that in a few minutes as the story eh—develops,” he said, peering at his papers before he again met the viewer's eyes.“ In other related news, a young man found in—”

I didn't need to listen to the rest of it to see that my encounter had been tossed back into the limelight. A month ago, it barely made a splash as a filler in the regional news. I don't know which other events had been in the public domain at the time. When I caught up, apparently something else had happened in the Arctic, something about a meteor or an excavation. I was still playing catch up with events that had passed me by while I was out of sorts.

“Come inside dearies,” Mrs. Kaufmann said, offering not an unkind smile. “Must be dreadful that—but it'll die down soon enough,” she added, giving a wobbly wave.

Her voice was tenuous, giving her the demeanor of someone who was about to coax a stray and jumpy puppy. She thought I was distraught because of my impassive face. I didn't know how to correct the misunderstanding of acting as I did so sighed and let her usher me into the house.

Passing by the foyer, I heard the Tv change channels from the news broadcast to some obscure nature documentary. Lucas mimed zipping up his lips and yeeting the key as he went to talk to his Ma. I gave him a nod of acknowledgement over his back. Surely― they did not need to step on egg-shells around me.

I made my way upstairs to wash and change before dinner. I didn't work up a sweat, not as much as Lucas but it was a ritual I'd missed from my days in the hospital. I needed to do some introspection in the shower

It was a given that some of my complexion had been lost while I was recuperating but the man in the mirror was far from that. Staring back at me was a face so strange so much that I had to pinch my face to ascertain I was not wearing someone's face—it hurt. My cheeks had filled out, my jawline no longer came out too strongly but it was still sharp and accentuated a chiseled chin.

Ordinarily, even subtle, I expected to feel the dithers and dysphoria from the cosmetic changes. The only rational explanation was that whatever had been responsible for my transformation had incorporated some drug cocktails to inure me to it. Drugs or hormones were my best bet; I’d been riding the high of dopamine the whole day to recognize it for what it was.

I was not used to hunching even a little, to see my entire face in the sink. I guess even an inch or two makes a giraffe of a difference, I should have said whale but there was another elephant in the room. Sigh, since when did my sense of humour go from sarcastic to corny?

I kid you not, I had nothing on Lucas' devilishly good looks but the face staring at me looked like it might have been a product of Cassandra's antics with editing apps. She used to give me flak for spoiling her pictures with my downcast gaze— dead fish Hachiman she called me.

I had never stopped overlong to stare at my irises, but I could vividly remember them being a honey brown, not the color of sunlight shining through a porcelain cup of weak tea. The brown on the fringes of my 4B hair was more vivid bordering on ombre and I couldn't help but think my barber was going to flip—I needed to tame the mess and I couldn't trust Lucas with a scissor.

At the risk of turning into a narcissist, I checked my healthy flab. It was gone. Or maybe the mirror was showing me what I wanted to see; it was a proven fact that mirrors made us think we were more attractive than we really were. Damn, I didn't know I was this vain—

“Ryan! You okay in there dearie?” Mrs. Kaufmann voice echoed from beyond the door. The sound of knocking brought me crashing to earth from clouds of cotton candy.

“I—ah, ” I was embarrassed to have taken so much time in the washroom,” I'll be right there.” I swear my voice almost rose an octave. I heard her chuckle with mirth as her footsteps receded down the hallway. Jovian moons! I wanted to find a storage silo and toss myself in.

Quicky, I got the freshest clothes I could find at the bottom of the duffel bag. However, as I went back to give my hair a once over I felt my attention nudged ever so subtly to the top right corner of my vision. There were new changes—

V̸̢̹͈̙͙̣̥̘̖̈́̆̍͂̐͆͝͠ ////////// (+̸͈̱̼͔̞̲̓̕3̷̧̨̦̬̱͔̥͕̘̈́̋̌͆́͘͠͝ )

Æ̴̡̝̙͙͗ //////////

I thought it was bugged, till I saw the letters, operator and brackets. Why the squiggles after being so perfectly capable of conveying things in English and Arabic numerals? Had someone done something to the alien craft or was it trying to translate concepts I had no context for? It sure hurt my brain to look at it. Maybe it was still populating some details?

As I watched, the text faded into nothingness. I shook my head, making a note to review this with Lucas later.

The sound of small talk and clinking of utensils pervaded the dinner table. The second eldest of the Kaufmann sons and father were engaged in some kind of talk about the farm. On the other hand, Lucas and his Ma seemed to be in a conversation that had argumentative undertones. They might have tried to appear furtive since I was at the furthest end of the table but my ears were way too good. I could not help hearing even when I was tending to the frolics of little Heidi.

Between playing with her peas and her stories of how her day had been she kept staring at me as if I had something on my face. Thanks to my bartending job, I had perfected method acting to a point when I put on my business face. I maintained the amiable expression throughout with a couple of teases sent her way to let her know I was still me. Children were unnaturally perceptive and you had to have them in your corner at all costs.

Mrs. Kaufmann cleared her throat to get my attention. I noticed that somewhere along the line, I’d been eating on autopilot and consequently cleared my plate. Even Mr. Kaufmann and the second eldest, I think his name was Jakob, paused to see what it was that the Mistress wanted to say,

“ Ryan dear, “ she said, sharing a knowing glance with a resigned looking Lucas, “ Lu and I talked it over and I think you need to stay here till whatever this is blows over.” My hand unconsciously went to the back of my neck as I tried to come up with a counter.

As much as I would have loved to wait it out at the Kaufmann’s farm, in the grand scheme of things that was playing right into how people wanted me to behave. There was no shortage of people who were obsessed with furthering the notion that I was something I was not for clickbait. My absence from the apartment would be just what people required to spin anything.

“ Er, as much as it pains me to say this―”I felt a twinge of something sharp in my chest as her face fell. Her aquamarine eyes had been so earnest. The same was mirrored in little Heidi’s eyes as she looked between me and her mother. I deflated, almost slouching but buoyed by something unknown, I managed to get it out of my system.

“ I need to show my face at my place else my neighbors will think something’s up,” I said with an uneasy smile.

“ If you say so,” she said, sharing a look with her husband who gave an awkward smile that seemed to say ‘but what can I do?’ The matron huffed and seemed to contemplate something, before she bustled away to the kitchen.

That was unlike her to be less pushy—the little princess of the house got that from after all. And oh, little Heidi could hold a grudge and she must have intuited what had transpired because her cheeks puffed up with indignation. Lucas, Jakob and Mr. Kaufmann pretended the dishes suddenly needed to be done as they fetched out of the dinner room leaving me to face—a feral child ready to go ballistic.

I made to follow with my own plate in hand, but someone had the hem of my shirt by the fistful. I flinched and glowered at their retreating backs,' Traitors!'

“ Ryan you meanie!”