Radio Free 
Albemuth
He stood 
rubbing
the graying 
stubble
of his weather 
beaten
face with the 
stumps
of his fat, dirty fingers 
wrapped in 
torn,
filthy rags, 
peeling
small black 
scabs
from the crags of 
his
face ,as he slides 
small exact change 
across the wood 
for
draft beer 
said,
"My handle 
is
Radio Free 
Albemuth.
Bet you don't 
know
anything about 
the
book or the 
place
that inspired 
it.
I've been receiving 
transmissions 
from
outer space 
long
before any one 
of
you ever 
arrived
on this planet, 
and
will be, long 
after
you're 
gone."
I thought, 
maybe,
this guy was 
doing
some kind of 
Martian
two step through the tulips, 
it was  better to refer him to
a higher authority outside, 
closer to the landing site 
of
the next divine invasion. 
I'd even give him change 
for the public phone, 
on
the corner of 
Quail,
if needed to 
call
home collect for 
a 
pickup.
He looked as 
if
he'd lost a 
solar
lottery, been 
drafted,
shipped somewhere 
overseas
and fought the good fight 
he never had a chance to 
win,
and all he had to show for it 
was a nine inch scar 
through
his blind right eye, and 
discolored 
skin from all the 
back
blasting napalm 
he
had caught dead 
on,
in some 
jerkwater
jungle town on 
the
edge of 
nowhere.
He was drinking 
over
time now, all day and 
all
night, to get back in his 
mind 
to the place where he’d 
left
the dead and the maimed, 
back to where he 
belonged.    
They were 
like
unstrung cosmic 
puppets
walking around in 
some
kind of 
comprehensive,
self-induced, 
comas.
The leader of the 
group
spoke in a dialect of slur, 
projected through 
cracked,
pale lips by an off-stage 
ventriloquist, with an evil 
sense 
of humor, making 
requests
for unattainable, alcoholic 
concoctions that could only 
be made in an off-world bar 
in
a cafe like the one Han Solo 
did time in 
between
flights, waiting for the 
next
Star Wars 
episode,
or, at least, that was the 
way
I tried to explain his lack 
of 
communication 
skills
in terms he might 
understand.
"We're not getting 
through
to you," he said, and I 
replied,
"At least, we agree on 
something."
and found something else 
more
important to attend to 
while
he awaited new messages 
from
home base.
 
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