Manipulate (Book 1, Alien Cadets)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Shara paused in the mall food court to watch the cadets on the news. She couldn’t see her target until Greg moved away from the microphone. For a moment he stood center screen, but then the camera started panning the length of the stage, and he was gone again. She could rank all the cadets by age, importance, and vulnerability, but she was a little curious how they would act on TV.

The cadets wore new uniforms, Shara noted, but they were terrible. Like prison jumpsuits in baby pastels, and they looked awful on TV.

Shara stroked her emerald green sweater. She’d only been human for a few weeks, and she loved their sense of texture. The Crosspoint and the Merith both had more sensitive eyes than humans, for seeing heat gradients in darkness – but she was willing to bet that nobody saw or felt better colors. And she never had to give it up. Her species could only transfer bodies once, and she’d done it. Her new body was cute and small and she got to keep it.

When Sam and Greg wrapped up the press conference, Shara went to the next store on her list. She needed a wine bottle to make a bomb. Or no, not a bomb, a Molotov cocktail the humans called it. She just needed it to splash and burn, should be fairly simple.

She’d only been looking for two and half minutes when a store clerk approached her.

“Can I help you find something in particular?” he said.

He was hot, Shara liked his curly brown hair and squinty, little eyes. Maybe she could… Focus! Shara told herself. The hormones in her body kept distracting her.

“Can you help me find a bottle that’ll break easily, with good alcohol inside?”

“Um. For a wedding or something? Is that why you need it to break?” he asked.

Shara smiled. “I want to fill it with gasoline and throw it at someone.”

His cute little eyes shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t think…”

“Just kidding!” Shara said. “It’s for a celebration. It’d be great if it tasted good, and if it burns well that’d be even better. It’s a Vegan holiday thing.” Shara’s superior had drilled her in convenient cultural knowledge.

The guy laughed. “Uh, okay. That’s weird, but I can probably help you. Some of the champagnes come in thin bottles, and they should have enough alcohol content to do what you need.”

He steered her down another aisle, and even took her back to the front for a few free samples when she couldn’t make up her mind. Eventually she left with a Blanc de Noir and a pleasant buzz. She stopped at a gas station on the way back to her apartment and filled up a gas can.

Now all she had to do was pick a shirt to sacrifice as a wick. Her buzz started to slip away as she faced her closet. Maybe the tan v-neck… if it wasn’t so knubby and wonderful. Shara ran her delicate fingers over her clothes slowly. Someday when her assignment was done, after humanity lost their trial and her people lived here, she would treat herself to a new wardrobe.