Saints & Scalawags
Ch: 20 Freaks, Mutants, and Nerds, Oh My!
Elvis parks the hovercar in a parking garage near the Vegas strip. Everyone gets out for some air and to regroup. Lizzie runs around the car and nearly tackles San with a hug. Elvis walks over to Brian. They both lean against the car and sigh in relief simultaneously.
“I don’t know how much danger I’m actually in, but my dignity sure has taken a beating since I started hanging around you,” Elvis says.
Brian nods knowingly, “It seems to come with the job. I was normal when we first met. Now, everywhere I go, things get weird,” Brian replies.
“Tell me about it. I’ve only been around you for a couple of days and I’ve already been peed on by a Martian, accepted into a cult, and manhandled by an Amazon.”
Diego joins in, “I’ve been attacked by Morlocks, slimed by a giant slug, and beaten up by pirates. I thought my life was weird before I started working for the commander. I had no idea what I was in for when I signed up for this.”
Hana and Lena walk up next to Elvis.
“You don’t even want to know what I’ve been through,” Hana says. “So, did you know those guys back there?”
Elvis laughs, “Are you kidding? I’ve always loved the King. I had no idea there was a church dedicated to him. I think that’s going a little too far.”
“Oh, I don’t know. When you think about it, the only real difference between a fan and a worshipper is that the worshipper expects something in return for their devotion. You’re just a fan of Presley because you don’t think he owes you anything for admiring him,” Brian replies.
“That and I accept the fact that he’s been dead for over a hundred and sixty years. And I think it’s very unlikely that he’s coming back anytime soon,” Elvis adds.
“Even if he did, how would anyone know? There are so many impersonators out there, how could you tell which one was the real Elvis? Imagine if other religions impersonated their leaders,” Elvis comments.
Lizzie and San walk over holding hands.
Lizzie jumps into the conversation, “There was a Muslim cult where everyone tried to make themselves look like Mohammad. Supposedly, at their first meeting, all of them were struck by lightning and died.”
“There’s a group of Christians who all dress in robes and beards. They go around to hospitals and pretend to heal everyone. I was at a hospital with my husband one time. These three Jesus impersonators got into a fight. For some reason, they got into an argument about whether the son of a being who was around before humans even existed was white, Jewish, or black,” Lena says.
“What happened?” Brian asks.
“A Korean Jesus showed up and kicked all their butts,” she answers.
“Did you see the Generics when we went through the airport?” Lizzie asks. “That cult definitely impersonates their leader.”
“You see those guys everywhere, especially around here. At first, I thought I kept seeing the same guy everywhere I went. Who are they?” Hana asks.
“It was started by a narcissist named Morrison Welk. I did a paper on him when I was in high school. He believes that the more the world’s cultures become homogenized, the more people will lose their sense of self. He claims he started the religion to allow people to develop a true sense of individuality,” Lizzie explains.
“That’s ridiculous. They all look the same,” Diego comments.
“One of the things that always fascinated me about people is how so-called ‘non-conformists’ always seem to look alike. Anyway, you’re not wrong. His followers undergo extensive body modification to make themselves look exactly like him. Then they get a grid of colored squares tattooed all over their bodies. The squares are always exactly three centimeters in size and colored in groups of three to represent the id, ego, and superego. The tattoos have very subtle differences. Where one has three dark blue squares above their right eye, someone else might have a slightly lighter shade of blue,” she says.
“Oh, I get it. That way, they are identical to us but unique to each other. That’s kind of clever, but incredibly impractical,” Brian replies.
“It has its practical applications. You never see a Generic go to prison because it’s impossible to positively identify any particular one. That’s why no one trusts them,” San explains.
“So, now that we got Ling back, what’s next?” Lizzie asks.
“Commander, they kidnapped me because one of them is an alien, apparently the partner of the one you said was taken from your ship. They thought that with my connections, I could get Vigilant Sky to locate him,” San says.
“Ironic. I brought you here to use them to find him. So, what do you think their next move will be?” Brian asks.
“Barrow will try it without me. I don’t think the alien is all that concerned about his partner, he just needs to know where their ship is. He said he needs to get back to his people,” answers San.
“So, where will they find Vigilant Sky?” he asks.
“Area 51, where else? They’ve been there ever since they got kicked out of New Mexico,” she answers.
***
Groom Lake is a nexus. All types of weird seem to converge here. A lost tourist wandering into this valley might think they’ve stumbled upon an interdimensional landfill. A popular travel blogger once referred to it as a “landlocked Bermuda Triangle”. This is a place where the usual expectations of society seem to break down. There are no taboos at Area 51. Everything is acceptable. Well, perhaps not acceptable, just not regulated. There is no judgment here. In fact, the county sheriff’s office still officially denies that it even exists. When asked by journalists if law and order will ever be brought to the Groom Lake area, the Department of Homeland Security merely pretends it didn’t hear the question.
You can find everything at Area 51, artists, poets, spiritual pilgrims, perverts, arms dealers, and even the occasional mutant wandering in from the wasteland between here and the Yucca Flat nuclear waste repository. When the federal government pulled out of the area in 2048, they didn’t just close the airbase, they abandoned everything suddenly and never looked back. Many believe that this uncharacteristic retreat was prompted by an accident at the repository. A few signs were posted warning people of the danger, but those were quickly torn down and added to the giant wall of garbage erected between the base and the repository. Some misguided squatters believed that the wall would act as a barrier protecting them from the radioactive dust blowing down from the mountains.
There have been at least twelve people over the years who have declared themselves Mayor of Groom Lake. Every one of them has been killed and their bodies allowed to rot in the sun on full display. Area 51 is an exceptionally liberal place, but the one thing that will never be tolerated there is government.
Elvis stops the car in the middle of the dirt road. He turns to look at Brian.
“You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asks.
“All we have to do is find the alien and get out. Simple, right?” Brian answers.
“Seems to me, figuring out which one of those freaks is the alien will be the hard part,” Diego says.
Diego is squeezed between Brian and Elvis in the front seat. Lena, Hana, Lizzie, and San aren’t any more comfortable in the back.
“If we do find him, where are we going to put him?” Hana asks.
“I guess we’ll have to throw him in the trunk,” Brian replies. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead.
“Either that or tie him to the bumper like a deer. Imagine that photo hanging in your den,” Elvis says.
“San, you’ve been here before. Any advice before we go in?” asks Brian.
She thinks for a moment.
“Avoid eye contact. Don’t let anyone talk you into buying anything. And especially don’t let any mutants get near you,” she answers.
“Why, are they dangerous? Are they like cannibals or something?” Hana asks nervously.
“I don’t know about that, but they live up in the mountains, and they’re really lonely. They see a pretty young thing like you and they’ll try to snatch you. Take you up to their cave, or hovel, whatever mutants live in. I saw a guy with two faces kiss a girl almost to death. They’re extremely needy and socially unskilled, so keep your distance,” she answers.
Hana grimaces, “Thanks. I could have done without that image though. Slobbered to death by a virgin freakazoid!. Echh!”
Elvis reluctantly starts driving again. The makeshift city lies ahead. In this desert, only life that is adapted to a bleak existence can survive. And only life suited for a harsh and cruel living can thrive. This makes Area 51 the perfect city for this environment. Just like the scarce brush and rocky outcrops of the landscape, the crumbling buildings, tattered tents, and burned out vehicles scattered haphazardly across the deteriorated asphalt make Area 51 a dried up tumbleweed of a town. A wall of old cars, mining equipment, airplane fuselages, and various detritus stands two stories high and a kilometer long on the western side of town. The sun glares fiercely off of Groom Lake, the salt flat to the north, like a warning signaling visitors to turn back.
As they get close to the old base, they spot a familiar car sitting in the desert along the road. Elvis stops beside it. There doesn’t appear to be anyone inside. Brian and Diego get out and investigate. They look inside and all around, but don’t see any reason why it was just left there. Brian runs his hand along the newly created V-shaped dent in the hood.
“What do you think? Did it break down?” he asks.
Diego opens the door and gets in. He takes a device out of his shirt pocket and clicks around on the screen for a moment. The car’s engine starts. He receives diagnostic readings from the car’s computer. He gets out of the car and shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t buy this car if it was for sale, but it runs,” he answers. “It’s registered to a guy named Darren Kowalski from Twin Falls, Idaho if that helps.”
“Don’t think that helps me at the moment, thanks,” Brian scratches his head.
He takes a step back when he notices a scorpion skitter across the hood of the abandoned car.
“Why would Barrow leave his car a hundred meters from the base?” he asks.
Lena pokes her head out the window.
“Mr. Hastings, I might have an idea,” she offers. “When Harold and I first got married, he bought a new car. Oh boy, was he proud of it too! He was so afraid of it getting even the tiniest blemish, that whenever we went anywhere, he would park way down at the end of the parking lot away from everyone else.”
Brian stares at her and nods, but he has no idea what point she is trying to make.
“What I’m saying is, men are weird about their cars. Maybe this Barrow guy is just like my husband,” she smiles and rolls the window back up.
Brian looks over at Diego, more confused than before.
“She might be onto something,” Diego says. “If we bring our car, which is a lot nicer than this heap, into that town, it might not be ours for very long.”
Brian nods, “You’re right! That makes perfect sense. We definitely don’t want to be stranded out here.”
He walks over to the hovercar and gestures for Elvis to roll the front passenger window down. He pokes his head in. The cold airconditioned air shocks him when it hits his face.
“Try to find a clear, relatively scorpion-free spot to park. We’re walking into town,” he tells him.
***
Six sweaty, miserable space explorers trip and stumble down the rough desert road. They are joined by a flying dwarf who appears to be comfortable and relaxed.
“My ankles are killing me. I’m never wearing heels again!” San complains. “I can’t believe Barrow thought I’d be able to seduce anyone after this walk.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find a place for you to get cleaned up,” Elvis tries to cheer her up. He sticks out his hand and offers her a stick of gum. “It’s mint. It says right on the package that it’s cooling and refreshing.”
“You’re wearing a suit and tie! How are you not soaking wet?! Don’t tell me that you aren’t sweating because of gum!” she looks ready to swat him out of the air.
“Of course not. My suit is cooled.” He undoes a couple of buttons and opens his shirt to reveal an undershirt with tubing running through it. “It keeps me cool or warm depending on what I want. Mr. Conrad bought it for me for my birthday a few years ago. I wear it everywhere!”
Not surprisingly, this does nothing for her mood. As they pass a boulder along the road, a man springs out from behind it. He casually joins their group as if he were invited. He walks beside Lena and tries to strike up a conversation.
“Hi, guys! Are you new here? I can show you around if you want,” he offers.
His voice is deep but a little muted. Lena notices that he looks very strange. The skin on his face is darker than his arms and appears leathery. He doesn’t blink. His mouth is gaping open and doesn’t move when he speaks. Creeped out, she tries to sidle away from him. He reaches over and puts his arm around her waist.
“Where are you going, mama? We can be good friends,” he somehow makes kissing noises without moving his lips.
She screams and smacks him in the back of the head. To everyone’s horror, his head falls to the ground, at least what they thought was his head. Standing before them is a man with a cranium the size of a grapefruit. He was wearing someone else’s hollowed out head as a disguise. He shrugs and grimaces as if to say OOPS!
“Mutant!” San yells.
The three women huddle together. Diego grabs the mutant by his diminutive noggin and squeezes.
“Leave us alone or I’ll pop your skull like a pimple!” he barks.
He squeezes a little harder and one of the mutant’s eyeballs pops out of its socket. He squeals like a frightened pig. Diego lets go and the freak runs off into the desert.
Lena shakes and rubs her arms as if she’s trying to knock invisible ants off. “I can’t believe he touched me!”
“I saw that!” yells a girl leaning against an overturned tank. A pile of jeeps across from her and the tank serve as the entrance to the town. At one point, a sort of postapocalyptic Arc de Triomphe stood there but has long since collapsed. She is young and slender with a large pink spiky mohawk style hairdo.
“What did you see little girl?” Diego asks.
“The barbaric way you treated him. You can’t abuse people like that just because they’re evolutionarily divergent,” she explains.
“Evolutionarily divergent?” Brian asks.
“You know, ‘differently configured’,” she says as she makes air quotes. “Mutants are people too! Well, not exactly people, but they have as much right to this world as everyone else!”
“We’re really sorry,” Brian says. “We’re new here, and my friend doesn’t have a great history with mutants.”
“So why did you come here? Are you with the government? Just so you know, someone ate the last census taker who came here,” she replies.
“Hmm. Well, that’s disturbing. No, we don’t work for the government. We’re actually looking for someone who can help us. We need to find a group who call themselves Vigilant Sky,” Brian explains.
“Why would you want to talk to those freaks?”
“Can you point me in their direction?”
She points her thumb over her shoulder, “They’re over in Nerdtown, under the big satellite dish.”
Brian nods a Thank You to her. The team walks into the wasteland of a city. One-by-one they pass the girl. She makes sure to give each of them a disapproving sneer. Hana stops in front of the girl.
“You know, nerds are people too. Some of them are pretty wonderful,” she says. The girl glares at her and grumbles, “Huh! That’s debatable!”
