[Illustration: “Braydahs Ship” © 2006 by Romeo Esparrago.]
“Look, if you’ll just inspect the implant in the back molar on the left side of my mouth, you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.”
Dr. Karrow looked at the disheveled man in ragged clothing who was sitting in the dental chair. They were now behind the partitions and the door, and the hearing of others. Dr. Karrow let out a sigh. He gazed at the little tin-foil hat that the dark-skinned man had fashioned and capped his thinning strands of black hair with. The hat was torn on one side. Karrow silently wondered at the impulse he felt to listen to this disoriented and babbling man, instead of simply calling the authorities to deal with him. But there was something… a quality of sheer earnestness in the man’s eyes and in his voice that compelled Karrow to listen. Dr. Nathan Karrow had rarely witnessed such earnest conviction, however delusional it might prove to be.
He smiled, patiently. “Now, please tell me your name.”
The homeless man held out a stress-thinned hand with gnarled fingers. His watery dark eyes went wide — searching for some sign of understanding.
“Eno. Eno Ecnahc.” He flashed a brief and nervous smile.
“Well. That’s an unusual name, isn’t it? Is it perhaps South American?”
Eno frowned and shook his head. “No. It isn’t.”
“And is this molar the only reason you’re here?”
“Yes. Dr. Karrow. Yes. The molar is the key. For you see, they are coming. The Qual. The Qualdrads. The Mother-Ship. They are coming, to steal your sun!”
Posted by planetmagazine 