Invasion of the Dognappers by Patrick Jennings

it’s ultrasonic. She’s helping me.”
    “Hello,” the alien said. “Pleased to meet you.”
    Aggy stared. Her expressive eyebrows were unusually slack, and her mouth fell open.
    “It’s okay, Aggy,” Logan said. “She’s a good alien. She’s helping us.”
    Aggy shook her head in tiny, rapid movements, as if trying to wake herself from the shock of what she was seeing.
    “Aggy!” Logan snapped.
    She jumped. Then scowled at him.
    “What?”
    “Here,” Logan said, holding out the rusty nail. “Take this transmitter to the animal shelter. When you get there, find a secluded place for us to transport to.”
    Aggy took the nail and scrutinized it skeptically. “This is the transmitter?”
    “Yes. It transmits a sound that the alien homes in on, so she can transport us.”
    “Logan, this is a nail .”
    “It’s a transmitter,” the alien in the corner said, her throat light illuminating the shed briefly.
    Aggy’s cloud of confusion broke enough to let in a frightening thought.
    “So you really are …” she said haltingly. “You’re from a … ?”
    “Yes,” the alien said. “I am from another planet. Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you.”
    Aggy began to lean forward for a better look at this creature, then, as if thinking better of it, straightened up.
    “I’ll bring you up to date later,” Logan said. “Right now we must get to the shelter. It’s our only way of rescuing Festus and the other stolen dogs.”
    “Where are they?” Aggy asked. “Who has them?”
    Logan stepped past her and tucked the rest of the clothes he’d taken from his house, including his rubber boots, into her bike’s basket.
    “Ride to the shelter,” he told her. “Don’t stop for any reason. Don’t talk to anyone. Try to stay out of sight.”
    “What are the clothes for?”
    “It’s not important. You must get moving. Every second we wait increases our chances of failure.”
    Aggy didn’t move. She seemed stuck, stupefied, paralyzed.
    “He’s right,” the alien said. “You should go now.”
    “Okay,” Aggy said, faking a strong voice and edging away. “She talks like a phone robot,” she said to Logan out of the corner of her mouth as she climbed on her bike.
    “Go,” Logan said.
    “Okay, I’m going, I’m going.” She peddled unsteadily away.
    “What did she have on her head?” the alien asked Logan.
    “A helmet,” Logan said. “To protect her if she has an accident on her bike. That was a bike she was riding.”
    “I see. Is she your friend as well as your co-operative?”
    “Yes. And she’s the rightful owner of one of the dogs on your ship.”
    “Oh,” the alien said. “We’ll have to get it back to her then.”
    “Yes,” Logan said. “We will.”
    The alien peered out the slats of the shed.
    “I can’t see much of it from here, or at night, but your planet seems quite beautiful.”
    “How is it different from yours?” Logan asked.
    “The air is so thin. And clear. I feel so much heavier.”
    “I felt lighter on the ship, in your air,” Logan said.
    “Your view of the stars is different, of course.”
    “Does your planet have moons?”
    “It does. Only one, though. How many does yours have?”
    “One. We call it the moon.”
    “So do we,” said the alien, smiling.
    “I suppose we should be quiet, huh?” Logan said. “We don’t want anyone to hear us. Or see your throat light.”
    “Yes, you’re right.”
    “Can your boss really bring me back anytime he wants?”
    “I would have to help him. I would have to send you.”
    “Would you, ma’am?”
    “I am obliged to by my contract. I agreed to do what I am told.”
    “So you would?”
    The alien looked away. “We should be quiet now.”
    They sat in silence as the sky turned darker.
    They admired the waxing gibbous moon when it rose up out the trees.
    “She should be at the shelter soon, ma’am,” Logan whispered.
    “Then we should be going. Ready?”
    “Ready,” Logan said, and he blacked