On the inside of the lid I read a warning label. All the conduits had been purged of Hg-209 with high-pressure steam.

The red mercury in the drums had come from the UFO, which the federal government had no doubt dismantled to learn the aliens’ technology. By now I was convinced that exposure to the radiation from these aliens and their spaceship was what had caused the nymphomania.

I was about to close the lid when I noticed an object of a darker color buried in the tangle of aluminum-hued metal. Risking more exposure to the yellow glow, I reached back into the container and pushed aside the other pieces.

The object had what looked like two handles jutting from opposite sides of an open-ended square box, its width about the size of my two fists held together.

I grasped one of the handles and lifted. The object was also made of metal but of a heavier density and cool to the touch. The dark color was like the blued steel of a gun. The glow around the object was faint and didn’t affect me as had the other piece.

I held the object by both handles and looked through the box. Inside were layers of clear glass or crystal in assorted shapes, stacked together to form a display of some kind. The object didn’t look like a weapon. Perhaps it was a gun sight or a camera. I turned the object over and saw a round notch on the bottom, the logical place for an attachment point. The object had no buttons or switches, so I couldn’t guess how it worked.

I put the object back in the container and closed the lid.

Turning my attention back to the interior of the trailer vault, I inventoried the containers. They contained enough volume to hold the wreckage of a small airplane. How large was the original ship? Was there more debris somewhere else?

What a tragedy. The government had proof of intergalactic visitors and was going to dispose of the evidence as if it were yesterday’s trash. It was like a chimp finding a telescope and, not knowing what to do with it, burying the telescope in the dirt.

Could this secret go even deeper? Were there more alien bodies? Perhaps a survivor kept prisoner, much as a vampire like myself would be if captured by the humans. And had there been more alien contacts after this crash?

A helicopter roared overhead. A searchlight scanned around the back end of the trailer. I retreated behind the boxes and waited to see what happened. The helicopter sounded as if it was landing nearby. Rotor-wash blasted snow into the trailer, then settled, then blasted again as if the helicopter had landed and taken off right away.

Someone approached. A yellow glow illuminated the open end of the trailer.

My kundalini noir buzzed with energy. A second yellow glow? From whom? From what? I glanced to the boxes around me. I was aware of the three nymphomaniacs initially contaminated and the material in this vault. Who else would glow?

“Felix,” called the intruder. The voice I instantly recognized as that of my friend Gilbert Odin. “You’re safe for now. It’s just you and me.”

Gilbert? What was he doing here?

His tall frame came into view behind the trailer. Large eyeglasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

Incredibly, a brilliant yellow aura surrounded him.

I had to repeat the astonishing discovery to myself.

A brilliant yellow aura surrounded him.

I realized this was the first time I’d ever seen him without my contacts.

I waited for him, confused and stunned by his yellow aura. My own aura grew more intense, and the hairs on my neck and arms stood up in alarm.

Swaddled in a puffy down parka, Gilbert strode in his over-boots across the muddy tracks the semi had plowed through the snow. The cackle of radio traffic came from a receiver strapped to his shoulder. “Come out,” he reassured me. “It’s over.”

“What’s over?” I shouted. Anger displaced my confusion. Did he mean I was caught? If so, he was mistaken. I pressed against the steel wall of the trailer vault. Gilbert’s yellow aura wouldn’t make a difference-like any cornered beast I’d kill anyone or anything blocking my escape.

“I’m supposed to negotiate your surrender,” he said.

Gilbert had better have another plan if that was the case.

“Come out,” he repeated.

“Like hell,” I yelled back. I wasn’t about to get into the open and let a sniper measure my skull with the crosshairs of a rifle telescope. “You want to talk, you come in here.”

“All right,” Gilbert said. He climbed over the back end of the trailer. His aura looked like a boiling froth, signaling anxiety and fear. Good, he had much to fear from me.

I searched beyond him and looked for the telltale auras of any companions lurking in the darkness. He was alone. Easy prey for vampire hypnosis.

Gilbert stood and his large body filled most of the doorway. The thick, almost overpowering, odor of cabbage seeped from him. As he straightened up, he turned down the volume of the radio he carried. His right arm suddenly extended and in his hand he held a device that looked like a pistol-bronze-colored, open sights, and a pointed muzzle with rings around the barrel. The way he aimed it at me was proof enough that it was a weapon, something futuristic. Buck Rogers meets Dirty Harry.

His aura tightened close around his form. An occasional spike of heated emotion lashed out, like a flame shooting from a bed of coals. By reading his aura I could tell that he was trying to remain calm and keep panic from overwhelming him. Gilbert may have had this strange yellow aura but he still reacted emotionally like a human.

But not a human. Every nerve of mine pulsed and readied me for the attack. Not yet comprehending what I suspected, I waited for a moment before daring to say, “You’re one of them. An alien.”

FELIX, WHY WOULD YOU say that?” Gilbert tilted his weapon. “It’s the blaster, isn’t it? Well, I knew better than to use bullets against you.” He leveled the gun. “Step out here where I can get a good look at you.”

“Nothing doing,” I replied. “You want a look, you come back here.” When he came close, I would hypnotize him.

A wave of brash determination pulsed through his aura. He stepped into the trailer vault. His finger started to compress the trigger.

With vampire quickness, I jumped to the right.

A bolt of blue light shot from the muzzle of the blaster. The bolt struck the armored wall behind me and splattered white droplets of molten steel.

I had Gilbert by the throat while his blaster still pointed uselessly at where I had been. His eyeglasses clattered to the floor.

“What-? How?” he stammered as he sank to his knees. His aura blazed with fear and emitted spikes of terror that writhed like tentacles. The cabbage odor spewed from him. “Okay. Stay calm.” He lowered the blaster and pulled his finger from the trigger. “Let’s talk.”

I motioned to the glowing spot on the wall where his blaster had struck. “You call that talking? Drop the gun.”

The blaster fell from his hand. “I don’t mean to cause trouble.”

“A little late for that. Is that weapon proof of peaceful intentions?” I tightened my claws around his windpipe.

“Self-protection. Every species has that right.”

I kicked the blaster and sent it skidding into the far end of the vault.

“Careful.” He spoke in a rasped whisper. “That thing’s expensive, and I’m signed for it.”

“The only reason I won’t kill you is that I need questions answered.” I stared into his eyes. No effect. He was definitely not human.

This imposter had said nothing about his yellow aura. Or my orange one. He couldn’t see them. He didn’t know. I kept this advantage to myself. I knelt over him and cradled his neck in my talons as I read his aura. I loosened my grip slightly, but he knew that I could decapitate him in an instant.