Chapter 5

For Spencer, it was a wild ride already and he wasn't past the portal to where Josiah had found himself as he looked into it, its swirling energies and the faint image of a city skyline, blurred as if he were looking through a dirty windshield.

A white spherical pod with its doors open spreading like a pair of wings beckoned him as he looked to the one-way mirror that shone in the light of the gray concrete room. His employer could see him but he didn't see him as he gave a thumbs up before seating himself into the pod.

He fastened a five-point harness onto himself as he sat down. The seat was surprisingly comfortable as the doors closed, and two monitors, one on his left and another on his right flashed to life.

"Welcome Agent Spencer Christensen," A soft, electronic voice said to him. "I am Eva, your AI assistant on your mission to recover Technician Jovanni," She said. "I see your harness is on and is secure. I will run diagnostics before informing command to launch us into the unknown."

"Right, Eva." Spencer said, nodding.

A few moments passed as Spencer looked on both monitors. At lightning speed, both screens lit up with details of each process going on. Power storage, generation, coolant, fuel, oxygen, life support, the hermetic seal, supplies, and even the ambient temperature of the cockpit were checked and each had a green check mark.

"All systems ready," Eva said. "I assume you are prepared, Agent?"

"If I wasn't sitting down," Spencer gave Eva a flat look. "I would I be?"

"I will consider that a yes, Agent," On both monitors, a countdown.

Ten.

Spencer's hands grabbed at the arms of his seat.

Nine.

Sweat formed on his brow.

Eight.

He hoped they at provided plenty of water for him and a fancy way to recycle it.

Seven.

"Are you okay, Agent?" Eva asked.

Six.

"Is this how Apollo 11 felt before they went to the moon?" Spencer asked.

Five.

"Do not worry, Agent, you are in safe hands," Eva said.

Four.

"Besides, you can't get cold feet now, the dice have been cast."

Three.

"The things I do to stay out of prison." Spencer shook his head, letting out a sigh.

Two.

"Quit your blubbering." The Director said from an intercom above his head.

One.

It all suddenly to Spencer. The pod went forward as he felt glued to his seat, the feeling of a force pulling him back, not unlike being in a plane as it ascended but it didn't go up, it went forward.

A feeling of pins and needles radiated through his body as he blacked out for a moment, the last thing he saw for a brief moment was a flash of bright light.


"JANELLE!" Pat said, his finger pointed to a large white sphere that landed not far from his campsite. His two sons stared at it, his oldest approaching. "Lucky, don't get near that!"

Worst of all, he laid on the ground on his back as once again, his hamstring ached with pain, his mug on the ground, his afternoon tea in a puddle.

Janelle approached, as she looked at it. "Lucky!" She ran up and put her hands on her eldest as he looked back, seeing her shake her head with a frown. Pat's youngest looked to his father.

"Dad, are you okay?" Chucky said, his tone meek and eyes darting around.

"I done my hammy," Pat said, putting his hand on his thigh as he winced. "Can you get me some ice, Chucky?" His tone was calm, and he didn't take his eyes off the strange object as he looked at it.

"Okay, Dad!" Chucky said, giving a nervous smile as he went back to the campsite.

Pat hoisted himself up. The pain receded as he looked at Janelle.

"Janelle, bring Lucky back to camp," Pat winced as he looked at the pod. "I'll call this one in."

Janelle opened her mouth to speak before she looked back and pushed Lucky back to his camp, Pat looked at the object in front of him, as he pulled out his satellite phone that he always kept handy in the wilderness.


"JANELLE!" was the first thing Spencer heard after blacking out.

"Affirming life signs," Eva said. "Confirming Agent Spencer."

Spencer wore a gray jumpsuit not unlike what Josiah wore when he last saw him. It felt looser than it should be as he struggled to get it off. The harness itself even felt loose as he cast the suit aside.

"Agent Spencer," Eva asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine-" Spencer said, though he paused for a moment upon hearing his voice. It sounded younger and not unlike his usual gravelly tone.

"Agent Spencer, I detect your heart rate increasing, may I suggest you take a breath before you-"

Spencer looked at his hands, now smaller and with gray fur growing on them.

"You were warned of a metamorphic anomaly before you came to this universe to seek Technic-"

Spencer felt his face and it became a snout, feeling a soft nose as he pinched it.

Pat heard a scream that tensed every hair on his body up, as he froze for a moment. He was on the phone and the other end definitely heard that. His eyes widened as he stood there.

"We're sending someone your way immediately." The other end said. "Please stay on the line."

Chucky came by, with an ice pack in hand as he walked and he grabbed it from Chucky.

Chucky looked at him on the phone and he paused, he wanted to say something but withheld it and returned back to camp.

Pat put the pack on his leg, staring at the pod.

He could hear voices inside, they were muffled and he swore he could pick out a few words.

'Did the aliens use Duolingo or something?' He thought to himself.


Spencer put his hand on his chest as he breathed in and out.

"Agent, if you didn't panic about your sudden metamorphosis," Eva said. If she had a head, she would be shaking it as if she were his mother seeing her child act up. "I was going to inform you four lifeforms are outside and they're checking this thing out."

Spencer sighed.

'Why did they have to saddle me with the most smart-ass AI they could get their hands on?' He thought to himself.

"I will open the doors on your command, but I recommend patience. We have MREs that could last you a week in here should you take the recommended two meals-a-day route." Eva said.

"Do you have some water?" Spencer asked.

From his left, a mechanical arm handed him a bottle of water as he took it and unscrewed the cap, guzzling it down as he crushed the bottle in his hands.

He sighed.

"How long have they been there?" Spencer looked up to the ceiling.

"Three have departed. All four appear to speak English, of the Australian dialect." The left monitor with a golden retriever came up on a phone. "He appears to be contacting emergency services."

"I can see that." Spencer frowned.

"Direct your attention to the right monitor," Eva said. "You may want to look at yourself."

He looked to the right monitor. It was the camera inside the pod as he saw himself.

He had gray, short fur with large, floppy ears. His eyes were an icy blue and he had a whip-like tail. He squinted, putting a hand on his cheek as he shook his head, the panic draining from him.

He looked like his old childhood dog but on two legs, he racked his brain for a moment.

It was then, he saw the retriever outside turn his back to the craft on the monitor, Spencer cracking a large grin on his face.

"Eva, open the doors." Spencer undid his harness.

A hiss accompanied the doors opening, mist covering the pod as the shape of the retriever outside was obscured.

"Huh?" He heard a voice outside say.

"Eva, I'm hoofing it!"

Spencer bolted out of the pod, his legs scrambling onto the ground as dead foliage crunched underneath his new paws.

"Sorry, gotta call back." He heard behind him, as he looked back.

The retriever sped towards him as Spencer let out a yelp.

"Full steam ahead!" Spencer dashed down a well-trodden trail as he heard his pursuer behind get closer.

"I just want to talk-"

Spencer jumped over a tree root as he heard his pursuer eat dirt.

"Ah, I did me hammy again!"

Spencer laughed like a maniac, disappearing into the woods.

Then suddenly as his joy at running away peaked, he slammed into someone as he backed away, glass shattering nearby.

A black Labrador retriever looked back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Que diable?" He asked.

"Oh, dammit." Spencer saw a bottle with a maple leaf shattered on the ground, as two other pairs of eyes looked at him, two more Labrador retrievers looking at him, both wearing frowns on their faces.


Later that evening, Duke was called in to investigate yet another crashed craft from elsewhere, only this time, apparently its sole occupant was conscious and decided to run away into the woods.

There were the blues from the closest police department looking for them in the surrounding environment under the guise of a lost child, as he looked up to where the pod used to be after a crew broke it down and carried it away.

Pat stood there, as Duke asked his name when he arrived, looking at it.

"You said you understood what the passenger said, correct?" Duke asked, holding a voice recorder.

"Yeah, he sounded a bit like a seppo, believe it or not," Pat said, sitting on a camping chair with a can of beer in his hand. "He said it was going to 'hoof it or something and I was about to catch up to him and then he jumped over a tree root and I done my hamstring," His wife stood there, shaking her hand. "Again."

"Sorry to hear, Pat," Duke said, as he looked to his wife. "And Miss..."

"Just call me Janelle," Janelle held up her hand. "You got any questions for me, sir?"

"So tell me your side of the story," Duke said as he looked at her. "Try to remember everything."

"Well," She said, holding out her hands. "I came running when Pat called my name, as I had Lucky watch Chucky inside our tent to check it out," She glanced at Pat, her eyes narrowing. "As he was shouting how he did his leg again and apparently," She pointed crater where the pod used to be. "Someone came out of that!"

"Did you see anything in the pod?" Duke asked, holding out the recorder closer to Janelle.

"I saw a jumpsuit in it but I didn't touch it," Janelle nodded. "It smelt horrible anyways."

"Like?" Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Someone didn't make it to the bathroom." Janelle stuck her tongue out, recoiling at the mere thought of it.

Duke shuttered himself, as he nodded. "What did the passenger look like?"

"My husband said he looked like a Weimaraner, so gray fur, blue eyes, big floppy ears, and short gray fur." Janelle said.

"Also he sounded like a yank," Pat held out a finger, as he sipped his beer. "Don't forget that."

"Alright, so," Duke put his hand on his chin. "We're looking for a Weimaraner with an American accent, correct?"

Both nodded.

He thought about Josiah, as he spoke with an American accent, thick and heavy. He remembered seeing a tourist somewhere in Brisbane with a similar one.

She was yelling at a waiter in a restaurant on an ill-fated date, her ramblings near indecipherable to him, though Josiah was more meek and low-key compared to her.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Duke looked up and turned off the recorder. "You have a good rest of your trip and stay safe out here, just don't overdo your hamstring again, Pat."

"I'll make sure of that." Janelle said, with a chuckle.

Duke began to walk back down to his car and as he got closer to the car, his phone began ringing. From his pouch, he picked it up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hey Agent Duke," Nala said on the other end. "How was questioning?" She asked.

"It went alright," Duke shrugged. "Another strange craft landed, and we got it out of the area ASAP."

"Excellent, and making the blues from the department do our dirty work is always nice since we've been short-staffed for a while," She chuckled. "Though, from the photos I'm seeing, this seems to be related to our previous case with the unconscious passenger."

"If there's a third one, I need a beer or better yet, several." Duke shook his head. "Or better so, a couple highballers."

"At this point, you need to be asking for a raise," Nala typed on her keyboard. "Anyways, you going back to the apartment?"

"Yeah, I am, though, Nala, can you pass something along for me?" Duke asked.

"Sure." Nala's fingers stopped clacking on her keyboard.

"I need to talk with the oil rig," Duke said, before approaching his car. "Immediately."