story

It was a testament to Tracey Wolfson's unflappable nature that she didn't blink an eye at the 4-foot tall rainbow-scaled alien on her doorstep. Of course, partial credit should go to the splash or two of Vodka she added to her V8 juice a moment earlier, but it was still a remarkably subdued reaction, certainly one of the calmest Jorsynx Yyl had ever seen. He made a quick mental note on his bio-recorder and launched into his standard spiel.

"Groha-hi simxi egahh?"

Tracey winced at the strange high-pitched noises emerging from the fish man's mouth and gill slits. Jorsynx realized his error immediately and, embarrassed at the interplanetary faux paus, activated his translator.

"Mrs. Wolfson? I'm with GERI...the Gaia Experimental Research Institute. Could I have a few minutes of your time?"

Tracey's eyes flicked left and right, checking for any potential eyewitnesses to her diminutive visitor then waived him inside. Jorsynx made another quick mental appraisal, subtly scanning her for any narcotics that might explain her easygoing nature. The alcohol level was well below the legal limit, even for a 125-pound female, and the mild antidepressants were understandable considering her... situation.

Jorsynx decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He cut through some of the standard industry jargon and got right to the point, suspecting she was already a step ahead of him.

"Mrs. Wolfson, do you know why I'm here?"

"It's about the money, right?" she said as she switched off the television and took another sip of her spiked V8. "How much do I get?"

Jorsynx tried not to show any reaction, but his gill slits fluttered all the same. It was considered an unforgivable "tell" in his line of work, but Tracey merely cinched her robe tighter tried to decide which of Jorsynx three eyes to focus on.

"I see your husband obviously discussed the policy with you," Jorsynx said. "I'm here to investigate the claim."