Bad Manners

by Randolph Stuart

Part 3

I saw Smith the next day in the same office Van Horneer was shot in. Fortunately they had cleaned the room. This doesn't look good, I think.

"I'll get right to the point. Van Horneer died last night from his injuries," Smith says.

I pause for a moment to let this sink in before speaking. "Then my work is done. I was hired to investigate the death of Dumphrey. I've discovered the most probable reason he was killed, and showed you the evidence to back it up. Now, if you will, Sally and I will leave you. We won't mention anything that has happened to us here. You can be certain of that."

Smith looks at me for a few seconds before replying. "I had a feeling you were going to say that. Are you just going to go back to your private investigation service, chasing wayward husbands and insurance scams? You know your office and place are being watched. Do you think they are going to leave you and your girlfriend alone?"

"I figured we could go to another city, start over."

"Hmmpf," he snorts. "Possible, and you can start a new investigation service. Nice," Smith says.

"We'll manage," I reply calmly.

"Have you talked this over with her?"

"I'm sure she'll agree."

"I have a job for you. I don't like what is going on. I don't like what you showed me. Find this Cigarette Man. He is the key to everything." He then takes two envelopes from the desk and puts them before me. He points to one.

"This represents your payment for your work to date. You can check it and I'm sure you will find it a fair amount." He then points to the other envelope, much fatter. "This represents what you will be paid if you accept this job, in addition to the amount in the first envelope. With this you can go far away and live a whole new life," Smith says, looking at me.

I look inside the fatter envelope and I'm stunned by the amount I see. Horneer was paying me peanuts by comparison "Okay, it's a deal. But only if Sally stays here and is protected. Now I need to know everything you know about this guy."

"Done. Unfortunately, I don't know much about this Cigarette Man. Only Humphrey and Horneer dealt with him, apparently, and now they're gone."

"Do you think he will make contact with you?" I ask.

"Possible, now that I'm in charge. We could grab him if he shows up, but I need to know more about him first, what his connections are with the government and what this space stuff is. I'm going to put my own people into warehouses like the one we saw. They'll stay quiet, observe, and report back to me."

"I have some people that could help me. This may take a while."

"Get on it," Smith says, staring intently at me.

Needless to say, Sally wasn't thrilled when I told her about my new assignment, but she calmed down when I told her she would stay here and they would protect her. Plus, I think she was starting to like the fancy surroundings.

Later, I drive away in one of Smith's cars, wondering what my next move will be. I had to get in contact with the Muffin Man, but he had gone undercover to protect himself. The only lead I had was the last place I met him.

I go back to the lounge and the same maitre'd is there. He also gives me the same look as I approach him. That quickly changes when I slip him a c-note.

"I need to meet the Muffin Man," I say quietly. "I know he's gone undercover, but this is important. Get me in touch with him and another c-note is yours." I hand him a card with a number at the estate.

"I'll see what I can do," he says, and turns away to greet a couple walking in.

Afterwards, I drove past my office. It is still being watched. Same as at my place. These guys aren't taking any chances. I return to the estate and wait.

Smith gave me a list of addresses to check out, places they were using. I spend the next several nights checking them out. Some were real bootlegging operations, others were like the ones that had the hidden areas and chambers in them. I reported what I found, and Smith made a list. All I could do was wait for these strange beings to make their next move. I didn't have long to wait.

A week later Smith has a visit from a mysterious visitor. After the meeting, I watch him leave from the window and I immediately recognize him; it's the Cigarette Man. Smith then calls me into his office.

"Did you recognize that guy?"

"Yes, it was him. What did he want?"

"He said he was sorry to hear about Van Horneer and offered to continue to do business with me. He also said that complications had arisen at some shipping locations, but assured me they would be quickly fixed and we would be back up to full production soon. I didn't let him know what I had discovered, and I accepted his offer."

"Did you get a name?"

"Mr. Jones. Obviously not his real name. Now what?"

"I'm still waiting to hear from a source of mine."

"Okay, keep up the surveillance."

Two weeks later I got a call from the Muffin Man.

"You're a very difficult person to get a hold of," I say.

"I like it that way. Things have gotten very interesting since we last talked."

"When can I see you?"

"Tomorrow night at eight at the restaurant. And bring your girlfriend. We'll be less obvious."

"What! How did you know about Sally?"

"I make it my business to know," he replies coolly.

We arrive at the restaurant and I give the maitre'd the c-note as I promised. Sally's eyes were all agog as she looked around the restaurant while we were guided to a table where the Muffin Man sat.

"It's good to see you again," I say. "A lot has happened."

"Indeed," he says, smiling at Sally.

"You wouldn't believe the things we've seen. Glowing ships coming out of the sky!" she exclaims.

"Indeed, my dear. But we didn't come here to reminisce."

"Yes, I need to know more about the Cigarette Man. My new boss has seen the warehouses and he knows what's going on. He's also met this man and he wants to know more about him."

"I've been discreetly following leads based on the information you gave me. He seems to be several different people, based on who he is with. But I have noticed that he seems to frequent this address often." He slides a piece of paper across the table towards me. I glance at it and put it in my pocket. The address is in another city.

"If my information is correct, this could be a headquarters for these aliens in this part of the country. This man goes between there and various other cities, including Washington. Presumably to contact those false agencies and the people they have placed."

He pauses briefly while the waiter takes our orders, and doesn't begin again until we are alone.

"Also, you may like to know that the farm where you and Miss Sally had your adventure had a major fire a week ago. Everything was destroyed. And one of my people, the chemist who analyzed the container you gave me, has disappeared. He evidently ignored my warnings to keep his results secret."

Sally looks nervously at me after hearing this, and I squeeze her hand to reassure her.

"These space people seem to be very paranoid. As soon as they suspect a location has been spotted they shut it down," I add.

"Quite true," the Muffin Man says quietly. "Which is why I have to be very discreet in my inquiries. I too have been subject to some observation in the last few weeks. I'm afraid that's all I have for you now. Go to that address and find out all you can about this man."

The rest of the dinner was ordinary enough and afterwards we returned to the estate. I could tell Sally was apprehensive about the whole deal, and I shared her feelings. I talked with Smith and he agreed for me to travel to the address the Muffin Man had given me the next day and to send him regular reports.

The next day I'm at the station waiting for my train. Sally was there with two of Smith's guys. I hugged her and promised I would call her every day. The trip was long and uneventful. It gave me time to go over what I had found out so far. For the twelfth time I checked my pistol in its holster.

After arriving I check in at a hotel, nothing too fancy, nice and obscure. Later I got a cab to take me to the address I'd been given. I get out and walk around the outside of it. Nothing about it stood out. People go in and come out in the front. Trucks came and went in the back. This area was fenced off with a gate and guard. I look for areas in the fence where I could crawl under. I watch the back to see if any crews come in like the other places. Finally I leave after discovering nothing that I could use to get in. I head back to my hotel and phone Smith with my report. He wasn't enthused, but I told him that I will try to sneak in that night. I ask him to say hello to Sally for me and then hang up. I try to get some rest before I head out again, figuring this is going to be a long night.

Going back to the building that night, I can see this isn't going to be easy. The guard was still at the gate and I could see lights on inside. Evidently this is a 24 hour operation. My one chance is a spot in the back. Using a pair of bolt cutters, I manage to get under the fence and carefully make my way along some large pipes running above ground that go into the building, hoping they will give me cover.

My plan works and I make it to the building. Once there I look for a way to get in or make my way onto the roof. I find a set of stairs and quietly climb them. On the roof I go to the skylights and look into each one. Through some I find a room similar to the others with the canisters and chambers, only bigger. I settle down to watch the operation below me. It's a long night but I get to see two chambers loaded and one unloaded. What goes into the chambers isn't human.

Whatever it is is human-like, tall and thin, but grayish with large eyes. They arrive in a small chamber like a coffin. The lid is opened and the creature is helped into the larger chamber. Speed seems to be of the essence since the being is only exposed for a few seconds before being encased. When the chamber opens again a naked, normal human emerges. The others help him to his feet and take him away.

I sit back, unable to believe my eyes. This is big, and I've got to get this information back to Smith. It's late, but I want to get some more looks inside. I check out more skylights and look around the outside of the building from the roof. Nothing unusual, I note. I see a door on the roof and slowly open it. No alarms sound. Walking carefully down the dark staircase, I come to a door that I slowly open. It opens onto a dark hallway. I watch it for several minutes and no one passes by. I could go out and examine the place, but I decide what I have discovered is more important. I close the door and go back to the roof. I then take the stairs on the side of the building and make my way back to the fence. I walk along the street while looking behind me to see if I am being followed. Finally a few blocks away I relax a bit and try to hail a cab.

Back at my hotel I lie down and try to get some much-needed sleep. That afternoon I called Smith and told him what I saw. Even though he saw the chambers himself, he finds it hard to believe. I tell him about my plans to infiltrate the building and he says be careful. Like I hadn't thought of that myself.

I do the same thing that night as the night before. I make my way to the roof and down the staircase to check out the hallway. It is still dark and deserted like before. I carefully step out in the hall and walk down it. On each side are doors with words on them. I choose one and turn the knob. It opens and I step inside.

Inside, I find what looks like an ordinary office with desks and filing cabinets. In the back is another office, probably the boss's. I go in there and find the same things. Opening a file cabinet, I rummage through the files. Muffin Man would have a field day here, but I don't know what I'm looking for, and it brings me no closer to finding more information.

I check two more doors and they are the same inside. Another door has a lab of sorts. More canisters are on the shelves. I walk down to the end of the hall and it opens to another one. Looking around the corner I see it is dark, but one end is lit, with light coming from some double doors. Just then the doors open and two men come out. I dash back down the hall and quickly open a door, closing it just as they walk by. I stand inside the room by the door, trying to calm my panicked breathing, wondering if they saw me. I wait several minutes and nothing happens. I then slowly open the door and look around. The hallway is empty and the men are gone.

Deciding I have pressed my luck enough, I make my way back outside and to the fence. Later, in my hotel room, I ponder my next move. That morning I got up early and went to the building, watching it from across the street while pretending to read a newspaper. I see many people go in and out, but no Cigarette Man. This is going to take some time, I realize. I look at a 'space to let' sign on a building and inquire about it. An office space on the upper floor is available with a perfect view of the building. Just what I need. That night I tell Mr. Smith my plan and he wires me the money. A few days later I moved in and set up store with a pair of powerful binoculars. After two weeks of watching, I finally saw him.

He gets out of a cab and walks in with some other men. Several hours later he gets back into the same cab and they drive away. The next day I went to the cab company to try and get some information. Once there I ask for the man in charge of assigning cabs. They point out some fat guy sitting in an office. I went in and asked him about a cab that went to a certain address at a certain time.

"I'm sorry, but that's confidential," he says while smoking a big cigar, leaning back in his chair and smiling at me.

I knew this type. "I certainly wouldn't want you to do anything illegal," I say coolly, while sliding two twenties across his desk.

The manager's eyes almost bulge out of his head at the sight of the bills. He quickly jams them in his pocket. "Well, of course if it was kept strictly confidential …"

"Of course, strictly confidential," I say, sliding another pair across the desk.

He grabs them and calls out, "Hey, Mary, bring me yesterday's list."

A woman walks in and tosses a book on the manager's desk, who then opens it up to a certain page. He looks down the lists and finds the one I'm looking for.

"Hmmpf," he snorts. "That's one of our regulars. Always travels from the same hotel when he's in town."

"How often is that?" I ask innocently.

"Oh, once or twice a month. Stays for a week or so each time."

"Thank you," I say, closing the book and leaving another note on it that quickly disappears.

Outside, I get a cab and go to the hotel listed in the book. I set up a spot across from the hotel and observe it while reading a paper. My patience pays off a few hours later when I see him dropped off by a cab in front of the hotel. I quickly cross the road and go inside, keeping him in sight. I see him go to the desk to check his messages. I then follow him to the elevator with some others and we get in together. When he reaches his floor I get off with him. He goes one way as I go the other way down the hall, all the time carefully watching him to see what room he goes into. After he goes in I walk over to the door and note the room number.

I leave the hotel and return to my own, making my plans for the next day. I call Smith and tell him what I've found, and my plans.

The next day I'm up before dawn and go to the hotel. I watch it from the other side of the road, waiting for him to appear. Finally he does, and after he gets into his taxi I go into the hotel and up to his room. After a few minutes of working the lock I get the door open and start to look around his room. Nothing surprising. Some letters are on the table. This could be what I'm looking for!

One letter lists arrival dates and times for what I can only guess as the same type of craft Sally and I saw. Another detailed progress done by a person recently placed in a government position. It was all here, name dates and places!

I grab a notepad and quickly start scribbling down what's in the letters. God! What I wouldn't give for a secretary that knows shorthand right now. Finally, after an hour I get most of it down. I stuff the notes in my jacket and exit the room. The hallway is empty and I go to the elevator. After leaving the hotel I head back to my hotel and carefully re-write my notes. I called Mr. Smith to tell him my latest news. He tells me to come back to discuss our next move. I tell him I'd like to keep Cigarette Man under surveillance for a little longer to see if I can find out anything more about him.

For the next few days I watched him leave in the morning. I got a room in the hotel and hired a stenographer that would stay quiet for what I was paying her. For three days she copies letters and papers in his room while he is gone and then types them up for me. On the fourth day I saw him get into his cab with luggage. When I check the room it's empty. I pay the woman and return to Mr. Smith on the next train. I show him the copies of the letters and tell him that I need to get with my contact as soon as possible. I took Sally to the restaurant where she met the Muffin Man and I slipped the maitre'd a c-note, saying I needed to meet him.

A few days later I got the call from him.

"I understand you want to see me."

"I have some very interesting information for you." I then related what had happened to me the last few weeks and the letters I had found.

"That's very interesting. I look forward to meeting with you. May I suggest a secure location. Things have gotten hot, as you say it.

My mind raced. If he said things were getting hot, then it must really be serious. I thought, here at the estate, wondering if Smith would allow it. "I could ask Mr. Smith if you could come here. I can't think of anyplace more secure. Let me clear this with him, tell him how important it is. Call me tomorrow."

"Indeed," he replies coolly.

Needless to say, Smith wasn't thrilled with my idea for meeting here, but agreed to it. I told the Muffin Man and we set up a date and time. When he arrives at the estate in his limo, Smith has several of his men outside waiting for him. They escort him and me to a room while they stand guard outside.

"So, you're the mysterious Muffin Man," Smith says smugly. "My gumshoe's mysterious contact. We meet at last."

"And you are Mr. Smith, my friend's client," he replies coolly.

The two men stare at each other for a minute and then sit down at the table. I handed the Muffin Man the papers I had copied from Cigarette Man's hotel room. He spends the next several minutes reading them, his eyebrows going up several times while he does.

"This is very interesting, my friend. You've done well."

"Is he one of them?" I ask nervously.

"Yes, I am fairly certain of that."

"Okay, okay," Smith interjects. "We have spacemen, aliens, here on Earth. They are using my network of trucks and warehouses to move their stuff around. I don't like these characters and I don't like them using me like that. The government is involved, for whatever reason, which means it's big."

"I believe the government is also in the dark about these aliens. At least the ones not replaced by them. They get a few inventions that have military uses and they're happy," the Muffin Man states quietly.

"Look, guys," I interjected. "I'm just a private detective. I get evidence on cheating husbands and insurance scams. Mr. Smith, I've given you information about this Mr. Jones as you requested. This spacemen from outer space stuff is way beyond me, and I think it's time for me to leave."

Smith looks at me for a moment and then speaks. "True. But I have one further assignment for you. I want you to bring this Mr. Jones to me so I can question him."

The Muffin Man just looks at me and nods his head.

Once again I wonder what I've gotten myself into.

A week later I'm back on a train heading back to the city where I saw Cigarette Man, only this time two of Smith's goons are with me. Together he wants us to get this guy and bring him back to him. I told him I thought the idea was crazy but he wouldn't listen to me. So here I am now, on a train to go and kidnap some guy from outer space and bring him back.

Smith's men weren't much as traveling companions go. He told me I was in charge and they would follow my orders. But exactly how far, I wondered.

Once in the city we set up a base of sorts in the same space I had rented earlier. Together we took turns observing the building, watching everyone who came and went. Finally, after two weeks he appears again. We follow him back to the same hotel he used before, and make plans to capture him.

Just to be sure, I find out which room he is in and case it. Everything is the same as before. We return back to my room and we go over the operation once more. Smith has sent a limo here to carry him back to the estate. The plan is to get him when he is in his hotel room and take him to the car parked in back. From there we would drive back to the estate. Simple, it seems, yeah, if you're dealing with an ordinary guy and not some guy from space.

We were waiting outside the hotel for him to arrive. When he does, we go in after him. I check to make sure he is in his room, and then go back to the lobby to tell the others. They follow me upstairs to his room and knock on his door. Cigarette Man opens the door and immediately has a gun pointed in his face. We move inside quickly and silently before he has any time to react.

"What's going on here! Who are you?" he cries out.

"Quiet!" one man says, brandishing his gun.

I look outside and see the hallway is clear. Now, just to get him out the back way and into the limo. I motion the other two men and they grab him, pushing him out the door into the hall. Just then a door opens and a woman comes out. She sees us and screams at the sight of us.

Smith's guards are momentarily startled and Cigarette Man takes advantage of it to break free and run down the hallway. The woman screams again as the two men rush past her, both with guns drawn. Our quarry throws the door open and runs down the stairs, his pursuers close behind him. One man fires and misses.

"Don't let him get away!" I shout.

Cigarette Man jumps down a flight of stairs and stumbles, apparently hurting his leg. He stumbles down the next set and lands at the bottom. He starts to get up, but a warning shot from me above him makes him stop. The two men go down and lift him to his feet while I keep my gun pointed at him.

"Fools!" he cries out. "Release me and you may still live. You have no idea what you are doing!"

"Wait here!" I say to the two of them. I go down to the bottom of the stairs and look out into the hallway. It's clear, and I motion them to follow me. I see a door that says 'Laundry' and we go inside. Fortunately it is empty and we go to a door that leads to the loading dock in back. In the distance I could see the limo parked behind the hotel. My two men put our prisoner in the back and I sit in the front. I signal the driver and we leave the hotel behind us.

The trip back is long and uneventful. Cigarette Man says nothing the whole way back, and neither do his guards. Arriving back at the estate, they take him to a room and guard the door. I go to Smith to tell him that we have our man, and then go see Sally.

She throws her arms around me and kisses me, saying how much she missed me and how worried she had been. Just then Smith comes into the room.

"I checked in on our guest. He is doing okay right now. I need you to contact your friend and tell him what we have. I think he will be very interested."

I go back to the lounge to see the maitre'd, telling him that I need to meet the Muffin Man right away. I walk out after slipping him two c-notes.

Two days later I got a call from him. I tell him what happened and that he needs to come to the estate.

He shows up at the next day. Together the three of us go to a small room where Cigarette Man is waiting. He just sits impassively in a chair and stares at us.

"Who are you?" Smith asks.

"You have no idea what you are involved in. I'll give you one chance, release me or face certain death."

"You killed Humphrey Dumphrey, didn't you?" I said. "Because he learned about your true operation, who you really were. He wanted to expose you."

"True," he replies. "I warned him, but he refused and had to be eliminated."

"Did he threaten to turn you over to the Feds?" Smith says.

"Yes, it would have been messy. We aren't ready yet. Our people aren't all in place yet. In a few years it wouldn't have mattered."

"Ready for what?" I ask. "We know that you have been placing people in positions of the government."

"Why, the takeover of course, you have the planet and resources that we need for our … conflict," he says, smiling.

"Conflict? Do you mean war?" I say nervously.

"None of your concern. Let's just say we are fighting a relentless foe and have been fighting them for hundreds of your years. It was a stalemate until we discovered this planet. Its takeover will shift the balance of power to us."

The Muffin Man listens impassively, but I could tell the last statement affected him.

"What are the chambers, and what's inside them?" I ask.

"Chambers? Oh, you must mean the, how do I say it in your language, the Transformers. This is where we are adapted, although temporarily, to your world. We must return at regular intervals to renew ourselves, or else we die."

"Why me; why did you choose us?" Smith asks.

"We saw that you have a system, a network of warehouses and trucks that deliver your illegal alcohol throughout the country. We saw that you have people that do their jobs and don't ask questions. It was perfect for our needs. We made sure that your product, and ours was delivered safely. Free of police or government interference. Money was paid and no one said anything."

We just stare at him while he smiles smugly at us.

"I'll give you one last chance to release me and I'll let you live. Already my absence has been noted, and actions will be taken. Actions I have no control over."

"When do you have to go back to the chamber to transform?" I ask.

"Soon. If I don't, I will die and become useless to you."

After hearing this, Smith motions us all to follow him and we leave the room. We went to his office where he closes the door behind us and pours three glasses of whiskey. He then sits behind his desk, while Muffin Man and I sit too, slowly drinking the whiskey while pondering what the alien had just said.

Smith is the first one to speak up. "Looks like we have a fine kettle of fish here. Any ideas?"

"We don't know how deeply they have infiltrated the government, so for the time being we must keep this to ourselves," the Muffin Man says.

Smith looks at me, and I shrug. "Hey, I said this before. I'm just a small-time private eye. This is way beyond what I'm used to handling."

"Still, you have performed exceptionally well under the circumstances." He then looks back at the Muffin Man.

"I gather information. I stay in the shadows. I can give you a list of some people and the government agencies they have been placed in. That may help us. We do have some advantages. One, they don't know that we have him here. If he gets loose then we are lost. Secondly, we have a secret army at our disposal."

"What secret army? What are you talking about?" Smith says.

"I'm talking about the men that work for you, your hit-men, as you say, yours and the ones of other crime bosses here in this city and others."

"Are you saying I should go to the other bosses with this hair-brained story and tell them we need to join forces to fight these spacemen? They'll think I'm crazy!"

"That is exactly what I am saying, since we cannot depend on the government right now," the Muffin Man replies quietly.

Smith just sits back in his chair and takes a large swig of his drink before speaking. "I can just imagine what they will say. We need some sort of proof to show them." He then looks at me.

"What? What do you want me to do?" I ask incredulously.

"We need physical evidence. Something out of this world, so to speak. Can you get me some?" Smith says.

I look at the Muffin Man."Do you still have the canister I gave you?"

"I do, but I'm afraid we will need more than just that."

"Can you show them an operation like you showed me?" Smith asks.

Jeeez, I think. "Look, I managed to sneak us in once without being discovered. To do it again several times to show each boss what's happening won't work."

Smith is silent for several minutes before speaking. "Then we will have to take over an operation so we can show it to them all together."

"You mean go in with some of your men and take over one of these alien operations?" I exclaim.

"Exactly," he replies.

"We have no idea what these aliens have for weapons!" I cry out.

"True, but I'm counting on them being totally unprepared and defenseless. At least the first time. We take over an operation and show the bosses the chambers and stuff. Hopefully that will get them over to our side."

I look over at the Muffin Man for support.

"Possible, but very risky, and our time is short," he says, then looks at Smith, "You will need to get with the other bosses, get them all together. Timing will be critical. We will have only one shot."

Smith then looks at me again. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say. "I'm going to meet with the other bosses. This will take some time. I want you to case one of the operations. Get work routines, find doors, exits, everything! So when the time comes we hit them fast before they can react. Now I gotta make some calls."

The Muffin Man and I get up and leave. Once again I wonder what I had gotten myself into.

I spent the next few weeks observing the warehouse with the chambers in it. I noted the times of shift changes, the movement of trucks as well as all the exits and doors. Each night I risked my life to get this information to Smith. He had the unenviable task of talking to the other bosses. Getting them together and agreeing on what we had planned was like herding chickens. Finally a plan was formulated: we would take over the warehouse at midnight during a shift change. The other bosses would then be brought to the warehouse if we were successful.

The night of the attack, we approached the warehouse in the darkness. Smith had some of his men covering the exits. The rest would swarm over the loading bay, quickly moving inside. It seemed like a good plan on paper.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived, and Smith's men charged the loading bay in several trucks. Men jumped out of the back and started to fire their guns in the air as men ran everywhere in panic. I was there in front and I pointed out the closed area with the chambers in it. We threw open the doors and ran inside. Our men fired shots in the air and yelled at the people inside, telling everyone to get on the ground. In less than five minutes it was over. Smith's men kept guns trained on men lying on the warehouse floor while he walked around the area, looking at the large chambers on the wall, white vapor coming out of vents.

"Jeeesus," he mutters under his breath. "This whole goddamn place looks like one of those mad scientist movies!"

Turning to me he says, "Go get our guest, I want him to explain all this to me."

I went back to the car and brought Cigarette Man, his hands tightly bound, to Smith.

"What is all this?" he says, pointing at the equipment in the room.

Cigarette Man just stands there silently.

Smith then takes his gun and whips it hard across the man's face, knocking him down to the floor. Two of Smith's men get him back to his feet, making him face Smith. A thin trickle of fluid came from his lip. It wasn't blood.

Smith looks closely at his captive, examining the trickle of alien blood. "Interesting," he says. "I want answers and I want them now!" He holds his gun against the man's face to emphasize his words.

"Those are the Transformer chambers. This is where we are changed, so we can live in your world," Cigarette Man replies.

"What are these," I say, pointing at the canisters hooked up to the chambers.

"These contain the chemicals needed for the transformation. I advise caution, in this form they are quite deadly."

"Yeah, I know," I say coolly.

"Are they being used now?" Smith asks, pointing at the chambers.

"These four are; those are empty."

"What would happen if we opened the chambers now?"

"They would die."

"When can they come out?"

Cigarette Man looks intently at the panels above each one. "About four hours."

"You said that you needed to use a Transformation chamber soon or you would die," Smith says. "Is it one like these?"

"Yes, but you can't operate one. You don't have the knowledge."

Smith looks over the men lying on the floor. "Do they?"

Cigarette Man is silent. Smith hits him again with his pistol and he falls to the floor. Smith points his gun at him. "I asked you a question."

"Yes," he says in a low voice.

Smith then motions his men to get the aliens on the floor up and bring them before him. "You," he says looking at one grimly, "get him in a chamber and get him Transformed." The men look at Cigarette Man, who then utters some words in an alien language.

Smith then turns back to Cigarette Man and stares him in the eye. "In case you have any ideas about having 'something go wrong', we have more subjects to work with. I assume you like living, just like the rest of us."

Cigarette Man then utters some more words and gets into the chamber. The lid is closed and they adjust things on the panel above it.

Smith then walks outside the room where the rest of the workforce is still lying on the floor with guns trained on them. "Now what?" he says, looking at me. "Who's who?"

I look at the men on the ground. "The shabbily dressed men are probably human. The better dressed ones are aliens. Of course, one way to be sure is to make them bleed. If they bleed regular blood then they are human. A prick of their finger should be enough."

Smith looks at one of his men who grins and promptly produces a switchblade.

"Just prick their thumbs, no more. If they resist, I'll assume they're aliens and deal with them later."

A few minutes later the man with the switchblade had gone through all of the men and moved them to the side of the room where they stood, shaking with fear.

"These men haven't done anything, they're just ordinary workers," I say to Smith. "Let them go."

He looks at me and then at the huddled men. He then motions to one of his men who brings a briefcase from the car. Opening it up he takes out a wad of cash and hands a bill to each man. "You never saw me, you never heard of this place or know what happened. Disappear and we're fine. If, on the other hand …" and his voice just trails off. The men take the bills and run out of the warehouse into the night.

"Satisfied?" Smith says, looking at me. He then turns toward the rest standing against the wall. "What do we do with them?"

"I don't know. Get the other bosses here and show them the operation. Then you can decide."

Smith looks at his men. "Keep a close eye on them. Watch the road for trucks coming in. If any do, take care of them. We gotta keep this secret for as long as we can."

"You," he says looking at me, "come with me. We're going to bring the rest of the bosses here."

Several hours later several fancy cars pull up to the warehouse. A man gets out of each one, surrounded by guards. They all look at Smith grimly.

"This had better be worth it, dragging me out here this early," one man says.

"Yeah," another adds.

"Just follow me," Smith says, walking into the warehouse.

"One of your booze operations, big deal," one says sarcastically.

"Looks penny-ante to me," another says, chuckling to himself.

"Where's the little green men you told us about?" another says, and they all start laughing.

"Just look in here," Smith says, opening the door to the room full of chambers.

The men walk into the room and stare at the chambers and equipment, all of them dumbfounded.

"Jeesus! What is this?" one cries out.

"This is a room where aliens from outer space are transformed to look just like us. They have been using my operation to transport their stuff along with my booze, all over the country. Dumphrey learned about them and they killed him. There are warehouses with stuff like this all over the country. My private eye here," he points at me, "has told me this. In addition, my sources tell me they are replacing people in government positions as a prelude to a takeover. One of the aliens told me this."

Smith walks over to the chamber where Cigarette Man was placed. "Is this guy ready yet?" he says to the aliens tending the chambers. The man stares at him. Smith smashes him with his pistol and he falls to the ground, liquid coming from his cut lip.

He grabs the alien and jerks him to his feet, showing his cut face to the other bosses. "Look, no blood!"

The bosses gasp in amazement seeing this.

Smith then points his pistol at the alien's face and cocks it. "What, no habla?" he says, menace in his voice. He is about to fire when one of the aliens speaks up.

"Wait! He doesn't understand you. Only a few of us speak your language. This chamber is ready." He then utters some words and nods. Smith releases his grip and the alien goes over to the chamber and after adjusting some controls opens it up. The bosses stare at the man lying there.

Cigarette Man blinks a few times at the light and then stares at the men around him.

"Nice to have you back. Feeling better?" Smith turned to address the other bosses. "This is one of them that goes around the country, works with the other operations, talks with the people he placed in the government. He was there when Dumphrey was killed."

"I … I recognize him!" one boss blurts out. "He wanted to work with me, increase my operation!"

"I see you've been busy," Smith says coolly.

Cigarette Man just stares at the group for several seconds and then speaks up. "You have no idea what you are getting involved with. Leave now and live."

"Well, there you have it. Are you with me or not? Together we can beat this menace," Smith says, looking at the group.

I just look at them and the chambers and wonder once again what I've gotten into.

Bio: I have submitted other stories for Aphelion as well as Schlock! webzine. I have stories published in the anthologies: Of Poets, Spies and Unearthliness, A Dickensian Steamfantasy—A very different 1800's, and, Exomoons—Natural and Unnatural Astronomical Bodies Orbiting Strange Planets, by Rogue Planet Press. I am now fully retired and I can now write in my new home.

E-mail: Randolph Stuart

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