“Bagel, cream cheese, onion, and lox.”

“I’ve had bagels before. This smells like dead fish.”

“It is dead fish.”

“You eat it all together like that?”

“How else?” Demonstrating, she popped it in her mouth and chewed. Several minutes later she was still chewing.

Looking over his shoulder, he considered the ocean. “I wonder if you can find a good chicken-fry around here?”

“This is Los Angeles. I bet you can find anything.”

He pointed excitedly at the screen. “Hey, look. Must be one of the Star Wars films.”

Though he boosted the volume on the enormous set, the horde of battling spaceships made no sound. Bursts of energy beyond human ken flashed on screen, not unlike the conversation which had just concluded. Only when the view cut to the interior of one of the warring vessels did the noise and confusion of combat become audible.

He fiddled with the remote. “Damn sound keeps going in and out.”

“Maybe it’s in the broadcast.” She tried to calm him. “Can’t do anything about that. Neat special effects, though.” 5he blinked at the screen. “I don’t remember any of the ships in the Star Wars films looking like that.”

“Now there’s a good alien,” he declared as something lethargic and legless lumbered into view. “Much better than Jed.”

Numerous tentacles emerged from the lump of gray protoplasm, which was clad in swirling bands of bright red and yellow. Silvery cilia propelled it across the deck. In the background a knot of identical creatures clustered over a table or bench. They were soon joined by a hunched-over giraffelike being equipped with two sets of prehensile lips in lieu of hands. More neat special effects hung from its long, muscular neck, within easy reach of the double lips.

A series of eyespots ran around the upper quarter of the gray domers, as Ross Ed named them. It spoke through a device attached to its upper body by an encircling band of metal, bellowing and barking at others of its kind.

“Doesn’t look like any of the aliens from Star Wars, either.”

“Sure they do,” Ross Ed insisted. “Don’t you remember the cantina scene from the first movie? That was full of aliens, some of whom you only saw for a few seconds.”

“I don’t know …”

As the perspective shifted it became possible to view the ferocious altercation through wide circular ports. Other aliens walked, slidded, or scuttled in and out of view. Wholly into the film, Ross Ed decided to try one of the bagel-and-Iox combinations. Unlike anything he’d ever eaten before, the combination of flavors exploded in his mouth. He swallowed and helped himself to another.

Just as he was coming to the realization that bagels with cream cheese and lox require a longer period to digest than, say, aluminum foil, the gray domer which had dominated the foreground view turned toward them. Contracting its full compliment of cilia, it nearly leaped off the floor. Responding to this outcry, the giraffe creature ambled over and filled the screen with its head, blocking out nearly everything else. Its two eyes were bright red, the pupils tiny and black.

Withdrawing, it conversed with the gray domer. Other domers began to edge near, peering between the disputants in the direction of the screen. Several equally curious and uniquely distinctive aliens joined the growing assemblage. All variously pointed, gestured, or gesticulated in the direction of the screen. Several argued vociferously enough to come to blows and had to be separated by others of their own kind.

“I don’t remember any of this, but it’s great!” Ross Ed leaned forward. ‘key make it look like that domer in the middle is staring straight at you.”

As he finished, the alien in question pointed something that looked like an empty peanut-butter jar filled with scraps from a machine shop directly at the screen. One tentacle nudged a transparent switch.

Caroline screamed as the big-screen TV exploded, sending shards of faux wood and electronic components frying. Ross Ed threw up his hands to protect his face.

When he dropped them there was nothing left of the set but a smoking base from which occasional sparks fizzed and spurtered. Waving away the smoke, he made sure Jed and Caroline were all right before stumbling over to the wall to pull what remained of the plug from its socket. The house, at least, seemed undamaged.

Meanwhile Caroline had opened a window to let the sharply acrid smoke out. She turned back to him, coughing.

“Well, that was interesting.”

“Pretty strong film. Set must’ve had a bad short inside. Maybe I turned the volume up tm much.”

“I don’t think it was a short. Ross Ed.” She was staring, not at the ruins of the TV, but at where an alien corpse lay motionless on the couch. The suit wasn’t glowing, and that certainly wasn’t a smile on the keeled, inhuman face, but she suspected what had happened nonetheless.

“Jed did it,” she declared firmly. “I don’t know how, or why, but he’s responsible.” She turned back to the demolished big-screen. ‘fat wasn’t a movie, Ross Ed. We were looking at real aliens, engaged in a real battle, and they finally started to look back at us. I don’t think they liked being spied on.”

“So what you’re saying,” he replied slowly as he considered her words, “is that Jed pulled in a channel that’s not on local cable.”

“You could put it that way.”

A voice from the hall reached them, followed by its flabbergasted owner. “Hey, what have you two been up to?”

Without thinking, Ross Ed pointed at his smaller companion. “Wasn’t us. It was Jed.”

“Oh right, sure.” Tealeaf shrugged and smiled, irrepressible as ever. “No matter. It’s probably still under warranty. I get one every year when the new models come out.” She waved at a puff of smoke. “What were you watching?”

“Interstellar war.” Caroline didn’t smile. In the course of their unexpected insight she’d seen too many “special effects” blown to smithereens.

“Well, I hope your alien takes it easier on Maxy’s gear. The equipment professional musicians use these days costs a fortune.” Walking over, she put a friendly arm around his waist. “You’ve got a huge career ahead of you, Ross. You, and your clever dummy, and your friend, too, if she wants to be a part of this.”

“Sorry.” Caroline shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just watch.”

“Whatever you want, sweetie.” Tealeaf was clearly relieved that Caroline did not insist on participating. It would simplify contractual matters.

“Now then,” she continued, letting go of Ross Ed’s belt line, “everything’s set for Saturday at the Nosh Pit.”

His expression twisted. “Nosh Pit?”

“It’s a combo restaurant-club. Real popular, up on Sunset. Just down from Tower and the Whiskey. I know it seems that things are moving fast, but you’ll do fine. All you have to do is step out on stage, move around, speak or sing through your dummy, and have a good time. Maybe play a little harmonica. Your backup will be so loud nobody’ll notice any discomfort or problems anyway. Don’t worry about clothes. We’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

“You really think this will work?” he asked uneasily.

“Do I know what I’m doing or do I know what I’m doing?”

“I don’t know, Tealeaf. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Always, bubalah. Remember, what matters is who your backup is, how you look, how much PR you’ve got fronting you, where you can get a gig, and what the reviews are like.” She winked. “Just remember that the people who are after you aren’t likely to look in the Nosh Pit. They’re probably all bouncing off themselves somewhere in the middle of Arizona. So you owe me one performance, anyway.”

“Shouldn’t I rehearse seriously with these musicians first?” he wondered.

“Why? They’re professionals. Just improvise and they’ll follow you. That’s their job. That’s what they get paid for.”

He made a face. “Somehow that doesn’t seem very honest.”

“Sweetie, we’re talking the music business here. Don’t worry about it. Let me do the worrying.” She smiled cheerily. “That’s what I get paid for.” Her attention shifted to the motionless body on the couch. “Now just for Auntie Tealeaf, make him say something. Go on, anything at all. I’m going to be too busy setting things up to watch you work.”

Ross Ed retreated until he was standing alongside his dead companion. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, immediately following which he heard himself declaiming through Jed, in his best alien voice, “You’re a scheming, conniving, ruthless, amoral example of your poor, benighted species who does absolutely nothing for anyone around you without the prospect of personal gain. You have no real, true friends, including the three recently departed so-called business associates.