The ship displayed itself on all of the Jumbotrons and all of the network screens within a thirty-meter radius or so. The disruption was noticed, and most activity in the city square was suddenly halted, replaced with chatter and people pointing at the various screens adorning all the buildings and other objects around the area.

The view on the screen zoomed in on the flag, its jolly roger transforming into the logo of a local oxygen bar. It hovered on the screen for a few seconds before fading out and abruptly cutting into the regularly-scheduled programming, or whatever else was supposed to have been on the screens.

“Let us be off,” Acrylic suggested, discarding the pizza wrapper into the roadside recycling bin.

“So we’re going to the oxygen bar, huh?” I requested.

We passed into a heavily defaced alley with a marked paucity of neon lights. “Affirmative,” he responded. “We are to meet with an associate of mine.”

“Who is it?” I asked. The answer shocked me.

“My associate’s handle is Fetus,” he replied.