Polar bears sat in a circle inside Herman’s igloo and warned him of the coming storm. He listened while they talked, smoked his pipe, and said very little. When they left he stood alone and sipped beer from a can. If they were right his igloo would be demolished by the storm winds by daybreak. There wasn’t enough time to get to the snowcat, drive it back, load his things, and make it to safety. He heard the wind’s hoarse moans getting more and more urgent outside as a soft snowfall danced at the end of the entry tunnel.

Part of him suspected the polar bears were conspiring to scare him off the mountain. Then they would be the only ones here when the mother-ship landed. But he also knew they needed a human present when the aliens arrived in case there was trouble.

The beer wasn’t really doing its job. He began to feel cold and sweaty at the same time. Sitting down in front of the radio he pondered the loose wires and transistors. He pulled at some green and red ones but some small pieces came loose and scattered onto the rug. Before he could pick them up a strange yellow light shone in through the entry tunnel. He heard some polar bear voices. He didn’t leave yet, one said. No. He ain’t never leavin’. Then there was some scuffling and one of the big ones squeezed down the hall into the main room. Aliens are here, the big polar bear, Marty, said. So soon? Herman said, still holding the wires.

Yeah. They’re early.
Do they want me?
No. They couldn’t give two shits about you.
Oh.
It’s the girl they want.
Girl’s gone.
Oh really? Well you’re gonna have to tell them that yourself. And the big guy squeezed back out the tunnel into the yellow light. Herman finished his beer. Took a shotgun from beside his bed. And then went out to meet his fate.

But there weren’t any aliens out there. Just a fierce wind and snow. And there didn’t seem to be any bears around either. Just a lone puffin, barely able to stand up in the weather. They tricked you, Herman, the puffin said. Wha–? Herman started towards the puffin but just then he felt his flesh phasing. Hold on a second! Then he swung around. He dropped the gun before he completely dematerialized and was gone from this Earth.

The puffin shuddered. And then, dragging the rifle in his beak, he waddled slowly down into Herman’s igloo.

You don’t know anything about me. None of this is real. Inside my real head is a tiny head and the tiny head is being controlled by a pygmy terrier. But let me start at the beginning. When we first met and I said you reminded me of Schwagrovsky the classical pianist I wasn’t talking about the real Schwagrovsky and I wasn’t talking to you- I was talking to the girl seated directly behind you. So that was the start of our relationship and it’s gone around the bend ever since. What I’m telling you is, judging the book by the cover of the book is a terrible mistake. You open the book and it’s not a book at all, it’s a piece of pastry shaped just like a book.

But let me begin at the beginning. There was a tremendous void and then life happened and, before long, there were the two of us entwined in a slippery, drippy, love embrace. You were you but I was being remote-controlled by a little boy with a red hat topped with a blue spinning propeller. Eventually he lost interest and that’s where the pygmy terrier came in.

This may sound strange the first time you hear it. But believe me, on your second read-through it all starts sounding achingly familiar.

I was once a boy, you were once a girl, but beyond that it’s all invention and a precarious muddle of the mechanical and the biological. How did I get bionic eyes? It’s a long story. But that’s how I spotted you walking down the gangplank to dry land. You and your little dog Greenie with the mysterious toothy grin.

I’ve said this before but I’ve never seen anyone quite as enchanting as you and if just once all my parts and pieces could come to attention and form an actual, non-mechanical man I would make love to you and you wouldn’t soon forget it.

When the seagulls started getting big we took to riding them, fashioning saddles so as many as nine of us could ride at a time. We’d fly over the icy ocean or up the snowy cliffs, looking for more survivors to airlift back to the encampments.

Today I found six survivors, all women, who were just north of the Cape, trekking single file along the ridge. We swooped down and landed some yards ahead of them. I dismounted and waited, smiling to show that I meant no harm.

The first one came straight up to me and swung some kind of an ax, cutting clear through the front of my suit. I collapsed to my knees and fell forward as the six mounted the seagull and took off without me.

I lay there bloody until the sun spun to the horizon. I had no intention of letting the night radiation transform me, so I decided to end it all.

I took out my blade and went to cut my suit’s life support tube but just then I saw a miniature blue fairy hovering inches above the ground. Don’t, she said. She motioned toward a hundred other blue fairies hovering nearby. We need you alive.

I stared at them, the little naked hovering pixies, looking so innocent and harmless. But I knew the minute I fell asleep they would divide up my consciousness and consume it like candy.

I cut the tube and the exiting suit air hissed and whistled. The blue fairy shook her little fairy braids. Minutes later five of her fairy friends had sewn the tubes back together. The loss of air made me drowsy and just as I was dropping off I heard one say, This one has enough layers of consciousness for all of us. No one get greedy. Take only what you need…