Page 17 of The Alien Who Saved Christmas

Oh little town of Corono,

Why do you exist at all?

“Nuke the sight from orbit,”

Would be my Aliens call.

From “Oh Little Town of Corono”

A Christmas Carol for Non-Earthlings by Sadie Malone

So, it turned out Elf wasn’t an actual elf.

Elf was a person named “Elf.” If you considered aliens “persons,” anyway.

Which they clearly were . They could obviously feel and think and --God knew-- they could talk.

Presently, Sadie was standing in the middle of a marketplace, which seemed to specialize in pottery.

Colorful tents were overflowing with vases, jugs, and bowls.

Chattering aliens walked up and down the open-air aisles, just as person-y as any window-shopping humans.

It was just… The word “elf” brought to mind someone harmless and lovable. Right? Someone who liked syrup on spaghetti, and making toys, and wore adorable green shoes. No one could blame her for being a teeny bit shocked, when she was confronted with the totally wrong kind of elf!

No. Not “wrong.” That was insensitive.

Her initial assumption had simply been biased.

Alien dialects couldn’t seamlessly translate into English, after all.

There were bound to be some linguistic hiccups, and she needed to account for that.

While “elf” meant one of Santa’s holiday helpers to a girl from Toledo, “Elf” in alien-ese meant a huge snake-monster with three heads.

That was totally valid. Anyone on a foreign planet had to keep an open mind and not be so culturally myopic.

It was just… She had a right to be upset, didn’t she? Now, she needed to deal with a three-headed snake-monster named “Elf.” Anyone would be upset about that.

Elf was huge and mean-looking. In addition to his three heads and wavy necks, he had a robot-ish kind of body.

Presumably because it was easier to get through social situations with arms and legs.

Again, though, that could be Sadie’s own intrinsic biases at work.

There were surely planets full of very successful slithering creatures out there.

Sadie hoped never to visit them, but they no doubt existed.

Here on Planet Horrible, however, most of the aliens were bipedal, so the infrastructure wasn’t built to accommodate the snake population.

Enjoying the amenities would be difficult for Elf, without donning a vaguely human-shaped body.

It was logical that he had a robot suit and not at all something she should be gaping at.

It was just… Crap.

This whole thing was insanely weird.

Sadie watched Elf, from beneath the heavy hood of her alien-kidnappers-disguise. Xane was super-paranoid about people realizing she was a woman. Pretending to be a Lythion was an easy enough way to keep him calm, even if the red-and-white robes were hot in the desert.

The two of them were standing in one of the many thin alleyways that connected to the central bazaar.

Dozens of small booths were scattered in the plaza, with long tables set up and sparkly decorations everywhere.

It looked like a European Holiday market.

Or at least how Sadie imagined they looked, since she’d never been out of the Midwest. Unless you counted space travel.

“Does that robot body make Elf extra-strong?” She asked Xane, without much hope for good news. Why was there never any good news in space?

“Yes, but that hardly matters, in a fight. His venomous bite will kill an enemy much faster than his unbreakable metal grip.”

Xane was pretending to be her slave again, with the chains loosely attached to his wrists.

That was his idea, as well. He thought it would help them blend in better, because apparently, “Only a fool would think a Lythion and a Rtaharion are walking around town together, without one of them being forced.”

Whatever.

Sadie sighed in aggravation. “Remind me why we need to deal with this Elf guy, again.”

“He is overseer of the blue salt mines.”

“I thought that octopus-man was overseer of the mines.”

Xane flashed her a slight frown. “Who?”

“The guy who wanted to buy you from me, back at the auction. With the tentacles.”

“Vice-Corporal Siganthum-Rycen Lonel Lonel?”

Sadie blinked at that moniker. “Sure. Him.”

“No, The Vice-Corporal owns the mine, so he does not work in the pits. Elf is the overseer down there. He has control of the slaves. He is the one who locks them in chains and ensures they work.” Xane paused. “He is the one with the key. You see it hanging from his middle neck.”

“Right.” Sadie wrinkled her nose, spotting the glint of a silver chain around the middle snake-throat. “To stage a jailbreak, we need those chains unlocked. Which means, we need to steal that key from Elf.” She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “How are we going to do that?”

“I’m going to kill him.” Xane nodded, like that highly detailed plan was the height of strategic brilliance.

Sadie’s eyebrows compressed. “In like… a fight?”

“Yes.”

“What about his unbreakable grip and all the venom?”

“I will try to avoid those.”

“That’s a terrible idea!”

“Avoiding them is a very wise idea, since…”

She cut him off. “ Fighting him is a terrible idea. He’s a frigging robot snake! He’ll slaughter you.”

Xane looked insulted. “I am a Rtaharion. We are all excellent fighters.”

“You’re also my husband and I don’t feature being an intergalactic widow!”

He blinked, his head tilting.

Sadie cleared her throat. “Maybe-husband.” She muttered, correcting herself.

“ Definitely -husband.” Xane said, but he stopped advocating for his kamikaze mission.

“Okay, let’s take a step back.” Sadie urged, eager to change the subject. “Elf isn’t expecting anyone to be plotting a prison break, here at the holiday market thingy.”

“It’s a casino, not a market. That’s why it has all those gaudy banmars everywhere.” He gestured to the sparkly garlands, which were the first part of alien décor that Sadie liked. They were very festive.

She looked around the festooned booths. They were all open on one side and filled with shoppers. “If this is a casino, why are so many people selling pots?”

“Because it’s a casino .” He repeated. “Everyone is playing pots-and-jars. Do they not have games-of-chance in the Milky Way?”

“We do, but they’re more like roulette and less like a garage sale.” Sadie waved it aside. “So, fine. Sure. This is a casino. Doesn’t matter. The point is: Elf has his guard down. That’s good for us. We can get close to him.”

Xane grunted. He wasn’t doing much to appear subservient or slave-like. His blue eyes were restlessly scanning everyone who went past their alley. He remained convinced that someone would spring from the shadows and try to steal her away.

“Are you listening to me?” She demanded.

“Unfortunately.” He spared her a sideways look. “You are not going to get close to Elf. I will get close to Elf and kill him.”

“No killing anyone, unless we have to.”

“We have to.” He said with utter certainty.

She flashed him an exasperated look. “You know, you’re really big and scary looking.”

He seemed pleased with that analysis. “Yes. Gratitude for noticing.”

“I mean, how exactly do you think you’re going to get close enough to kill him? He’s going to be on guard the minute you show up, Xane. You’re not a stealthy guy. If I were the one to go over there, he wouldn’t be threatened.”

“Because he would have nothing to fear. You are physically incapable of harming him.”

“And you are physically incapable of getting close to him!”

He scowled at her.

She scowled back. “We’re going to need some teamwork here.”

“Rtaharions do not work on teams.”

“Learn.”

His huge chest expanded, like he was taking a deep, calming breath. “How exactly would you recommend our ‘team’ function? You wish me to provide some strategic dancing, while you battle Elf with another singing display?”

She rose above the sarcasm. “I recommend we do something a little bit nefarious.”

Xane considered that idea with more interest. “How ‘little bit’ would this nefarious be? Because more nefarious is better.”

“Did you ever shoplift as a kid?”

“The word ‘shoplift’ does not translate for me.”

“Steal merchandise from stores, for thrills and free stuff?”

“As boys, my brother and I used to take blood bladders from the local vendor.”

“I’m not going to ask what you wanted ‘blood bladders’ for, because I’m afraid of the answer.

” Sadie chewed on her lower lip, plotting.

“When my friend Cam and I used to… uh… liberate smutty paperbacks from Target, back in eighth grade, one of us would create a distraction and then the other would grab the goods. So, I’m thinking you and I could try something similar. ”

“And I would be the distraction in this scenario?”

“I was the distraction last time. It’s your turn. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be a natural at it. Just be louder and more obnoxious than usual.” She gave a playful pause. “…If that’s even possible.”

He slanted a menacing look in her direction.

Sadie snickered.

If she didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn his lips curved in response to her teasing. “Ripping one or two of Elf’s heads off sounds far easier.”

“We’re going to try my plan first. Actually, it’s George Clooney’s plan.”

Another big alien scowl was sent her way. “Is that a human male?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t like him.” Xane declared with firm and inexplicable resolve. “I don’t like his plan.”

“Everyone likes George Clooney. He’s a silver fox! Plus, he made like three films about casino robberies.” She knew these things. She’d taken Intro to Cinema as an elective.

Xane wasn’t appeased by her expertise. “The man is a fox? This is translating to a small animal in my language. I thought you said he was a human.”

“He’s that too.”

“Well, shape-shifter or not, I will kill any human male who challenges me for you.”