Answer the door

You throw back the covers and go to the door in your boxers, grabbing your shotgun on the way. Unlocking the door but not the chain, you keep your weapon out of sight as you peer out at the invader.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you ask.

“My apologies, Mr. Phillips, but I was wondering if you’d mind answering a few questions.” Suddenly, your head and eyes clear. You see this man for what he truly is.

“No, I don’t think I’ll be answering your questions this morning, Colonel Stone, and you can drop the F.B.I. bullshit because I know who you are, so beat it before I turn your face into hamburger and let the dog out!” Frightened not only of the implicit threat to his person but also that his cover was blown, he departs, jumping the fence rather than waste time opening the gate. “I need a taller fence.” you mutter.

Breaker one-nine, this is Dak, ya got yer ears on, good buddy? a voice in your head asks.

“What the fuck?” you shrill, glancing about the room. “Dak?”

ten-four. the voice continued.

“I don’t own a C.B.” you realize. “You’re contacting me telepathically.” you say.

And failing in my attempts at Earth humor as well, it seems. Dak replies with a psychic sigh.

“Where are you?” you ask.

Millions of miles from where you are, but psychic transmission transcends distance.

“So what’s up? If you were planning on warning me of Colonel Stone’s visit, you’re a little late, though I’m blanking on how I knew his name.”

As is he. Dak replies merrily.

“Can you transmit visually?” you ask.

If you wish. Dak’s image winked into existence in your recliner. “Better?”

“At least I don’t feel like I’m talking to myself.” you say.

“This would be a problem?” Dak asks.

“Talking to one’sself makes other humans think you’re crazy.” You laugh.

“You realize you needn’t speak to me aloud.” Dak remarks. “Merely thinking will suffice.”