Invasion of the Cute Squad

[AlienGirl]

Invasion of the Cute Squad


Convention? No, I’m just new in town, moving here. Work, yeah, sort of, I guess you could call it that. I’m the advance scout for an alien invasion. I can see you don’t believe me, so just play along with me, and pretend I am making up a good story.

Yeah, it’s what you think: we are invading. Quietly, in twos and threes, we’re invading.

Are you surprised to hear me admit this so readily? You expected Independence Day, something like that? It’s not that way. Our invasion is slow and silent. You’re not going to see explosions or giant spaceships hovering ominously in the sky. The revolution will not be televised.

We’re subtler than you can imagine. You see, we’re invading...by being delightful. By the time the first generation of hybrid babies grows up, you won’t want us to leave, ever. Like us? Heck, you’ll adore us.

You still with me? Remember, it’s just a really, really good story I wrote, okay, and I’m trying it out on you before I send it to a magazine. But let’s look at the pattern I’m describing, see how it occurs in nature.

There’s this bird in North America, the cowbird. Cowbirds are small blackbirds with brown heads. Their call is a distinctive “kek...kek” and, though they live among flocks of “host” birds of several species, cowbirds have ways of recognizing each other. This is important, because cowbirds lay their eggs in the host birds’ nests. The egg is speckled (like many birds’ are) and very big. Large egg size is what’s called a “releaser” for the host birds, see. Host birds just can’t help loving their biggest egg best—normally, this serves their genes well, since the largest egg produces the most vigorous young. So, when this big, big egg appears, the host birds think they’ve made the best egg they’ve ever seen. That egg gets the best care, is warmed most lovingly, and when it hatches into a big, lively baby with the biggest mouth in the nest (another releaser) the cowbird’s baby is the one who gets the most food.

The parents can’t help it; to them it must seem that they’ve hatched the most lovable baby ever, and of course the cowbird’s baby becomes the favorite.

While the host birds are busy searching for food for their enormous adoptee, the mother cowbird flies to the nest and teaches the baby how to be a cowbird. The lucky baby grows up knowing two different sets of calls and body language: that of the host birds, and that of the cowbirds. If the mother cowbird fails to show up (if, say, she’s been shot, or a cat got her) and no other cowbird takes her place, the baby cowbird grows up confused, knowing only how to act like one of the host birds. A cowbird in that situation won’t bow to another cowbird in recognition, and might even simulate the mating rituals of the host bird.

Now here’s the important part: Host birds never recognize cowbirds as different. You get where I’m going? Good.

You might call us kind of cowbirds on a grand scale. Hominids have releasers too, things that are just irresistible. The “baby face,” for instance. Big eyes, small chin, high forehead...the soft-small-clumsy-weak body...rounded shoulders and everything that makes babies cute. These traits trigger an involuntary desire to cuddle with, provide for, protect, well, to mother whatever has them. It works basically the same way for all mammals. Look at my face, carefully. Don’t you just sort of feel that I am harmless and defenseless?

Did you realize you’re touching my arm that way? You have been doing that for the last half hour, petting me like a cat. Soft skin, that’s a releaser too. No, you don’t have to stop, I enjoy being touched, and you enjoy touching me. Don’t you?

Parasitic...I’d say it’s more like symbiotic. We get taken care of, get a planet to live on and get to interbreed with the local people. We choose planets where the natives are going to develop real spaceflight soon, and we use their outward exploring to get us to the next susceptible planet. In the process, of course, we leave some of our DNA in your gene pool. Very effective of our genes to come up with this strategy. While we get to be hosted by you, you are also benefiting. How? You’ve gotten some pleasure already, just talking to me and touching me a little. You find me nice to look at. You like touching me, I can tell. I’m going to run my hand down your back, like this...Imagine having that every night, that sort of tingly-shivery energy feeling you just got. Imagine having someone like me waiting for you at the end of each day, all in exchange for so little, a place to stay and some food and protection. And if you think I’m cute, you should see what my babies will look like, just perfect. The most perfect, lovely babies in the universe.

Oh, no, you really don’t have to pay for my drink, it’s just tomato juice anyway...Well, if you insist, it’s so kind of you, really, to help someone you just met like this. ‘Specially someone with as wild a story as I just told you.

No, of course I don’t expect you to believe it! I’m just a sci-fi writer, walked over here from the Con. I wanted to see how realistic it would be. I almost had you going, didn’t I?

I really did just move here, though. I thought it would be a nice, active place to live after the bitty little town I grew up in. But so far, I’m living in the Motel 6 and reading the want ads. And the locals here really can be as rude as everyone says, I am so not used to being yelled at when I drive!

Your apartment? Really? Well, yeah, I’m new in town and I sure could use a place to stay until I get back on my feet. You are so nice, you’re about the kindest man I ever met! Thank you so, so much for the hospitality. Everywhere you go, there are always such nice people!