Help can come in many forms. But, do you expect it from outer space?
|299 words in the story
"Yeah, It's been nine years since the aliens have arrived," said Peter
"I still don't trust them," said Sarge.
"Well," argued Peter, "They haven't eaten anyone that I am aware of!"
"Yeah," Chuck inserted, "and they haven't tried to take over the world."
"Then why did they hide on the moon when they first got here?" said the Sargeant.
"Cause they didn't know how we were going to react to them, remember?" said Peter, continuing with his argument.
"Yeah," Chuck inserted again, "and when we finally met them they didn't come out guns blazing, right?"
"I still don't know," said Sarge, "I don't know what good they are for us anyway."
"They've shared a lot of technology with us already, Sarge," said Peter, "especially in the area of medical progress."
"They haven't done anything for me," sneered Sarge, "Come on, quit gabbing and get back out on your beat. Police work isn't going to do itself."
Peter rushed into the hospital and over to the emergency are, where he found Chuck.
"Is he okay?" said Peter between breaths.
"Dunno," said Chuck, "He's pretty bad. He took three shots, and one of them got past the vest."
Many other police officers were in the waiting area as well. One of their own had been gunned down in the line of duty while attempting to apprehend a suspect.
"It was touch and go," said the doctor, when he finally came out, "but we were fortunate. Many hospitals have made upgrades due to the alien technology. Today was our turn and we had just installed the equipment when the Sargeant was brought in."
"You need something, Sarge?" said Peter, standing next to the hospital bed.
"Nah," said Sarge, "but I guess those aliens were good for something after all."