Spaghetti Invasion

The Interim

Phoenix strained at the bonds that held him prisoner inside the 'Pasta Bowl'. He was held suspended inside a transparent, spherical structure that had the power to contort his body into pretzel-type shapes if he displeased his elongated captors. Though nothing physical held him in place, there was a golden glow of light inside the sphere where Phoenix floated, seeming to be held in place by some form of gravitational manipulation.

The spaghetti-men studied his reactions to various stimuli intently, learning his strengths and weaknesses. They conversed amongst themselves in low tones, often shaking their heads or nodding in agreement. Phoenix wondered what they were discussing, especially when they seemed very well pleased.

His answers to any questions were the stock answers of a Eurasian Union prisoner-of-war: name, rank and serial number. When the shapes they twisted him into were impossible or the stimulus with which they poked and prodded at him proved unbearable, he shouted his stock answer at them as if the mantra of his information could somehow ease his pain, could overcome the mania that threatened to take over his mind.

More often than not, the spaghetti-men were accompanied by one or more dog-like creatures that featured feathers instead of fur, a long, powerful alligator-like tail and forked tongue. They had large, kind eyes, however; eyes that often seemed to regard the prisoner with pity and some concern. Phoenix came to regard them as allies, for they occasionally nudged the long, fragile fingers of the spaghetti-men away from the controls when Phoenix felt he would be ripped in two or driven insane by their studies in human physiology.

Whenever it happened that the bird/dog things would nose a hand away from the controls of Phoenix' sphere, the spaghetti-man would pat the head and return to his work, until the beast became so insistent that it was removed from the room. By the time the annoyed alien could return to his work at the controls, Phoenix had been given enough time to compose himself.

"Declan Miller, Lieutenant . . ." Phoenix was in the midst of one of his mantras when he heard it, or thought he had.

Yes, yes, we know, 'United European Air Force, serial number 6198719'. It won't do you any good, you know, they don't care what you say. It wasn't a voice but rather a thought sent directly into his brain.

The bird/dog creature was standing beside the spaghetti-man in its usual spot, ready to nose at the controls, but it was staring directly at Phoenix, head cocked to one side as if trying to figure him out too. The spaghetti-man noticed the attentive creature and laughed, patting its feathered head before returning his attention to the controls.

How do you know that? Phoenix thought with determination, trying to beam the thought back at the creature. It didn't respond so he voiced the question, panting for breath as he did so.

Oh good, you did hear me. I've been trying to speak with you for days. The spaghetti-men, as you call them, are not interested in communicating with you. If you survive, it will be as a pet or a slave. The creature seemed to smile, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth housed inside its muzzle.

"How do you do that?" Phoenix asked the creature. "Who, what are you?"

Later; the important thing is that you can hear us. My function to the masters today is to warn them when you are no longer able to bear their stimulus. They know we understand them. My function to my people today is to speak with you. Green will be pleased.

Phoenix' question was squelched by his scream of pain. The feathered creature stopped the spaghetti-man.

Rest for now. We will return as soon as we can, warned the blue bird/dog on his way out of the room.