"We'd worked together for nearly three decades," Number 5 told me, scowling at me like I was an unwanted bug. "He was my right hand. And you destroyed that."

As if to echo the point, he raised his left tentacle straight in the air. A dozen stadium-style floodlights lit up the farm, and we could see that hundreds of aliens, each holding an alien weapon, had formed an enormous circle around us.

Their ranks were tight and unbroken, except for a few rain-soaked, muddy humans pushing through here and there, staggering, zombie-like, back in the general direction of town. I guessed that with Number 5 off the air during the thunderstorm, they had been returning to their homes.

"Oh, no, you don't!" yelled Number 5 in their general direction. "Back to work!"

Their cell phones and other handhelds began to ring and vibrate, and they predictably answered the devices and turned back to the fields from which they had come.

"I'm not done with any of you yet!" ranted Number 5. "And when I am, you'll know it! I'm not the universe's premiere producer of end endertainment for letting my actors just fade away!"

Chapter 80.

"PRETTY IMPRESSIVE, NUMBER 5," I admitted, "but check this out."

I proceeded to make a cell phone ringtone all my own, consisting of the first few bars of Blondie's "Hanging on the Telephone."

"Wow, I'm so so impressed," scoffed Number 5. "You have imaginary friends impressed," scoffed Number 5. "You have imaginary friends and and you're a mimic. I should take you to a party sometime." you're a mimic. I should take you to a party sometime."

But then the humans' cell phones began ringing all over the farm with the same tone.

And guess who was on the line?

"People of Holliswood," I announced. "You have fallen victim to an alien invader who has been controlling your thoughts and actions through electronic devices. This is why some of you are at a farm digging ponds in the middle of a rainstorm.

"This is why the fire department is missing. This is why your children have been rehearsing a ma.s.sive, alien-inspired version of High School Musical High School Musical. And this is why you periodically find yourself doing very silly dances and musical routines for no apparent reason."

I glanced over at Number 5. He looked like he was about to explode with rage-which, I reminded myself, was just what I wanted.

Chapter 81.

"I AM NOW going to ask you all to return to your homes and your normal lives," I told the citizens of Holliswood authoritatively. "But, first, I'd like you to do one last dance to show our appreciation for our alien VIP. I call it 'The Number 5,' and it goes like this -"

And then, to the jangly beats of Sissy Bar's "s.p.a.ce Klown," everybody in broadcast range began puffing out their cheeks, wiggling their fingers at the sides of their mouths like catfish whiskers, and swishing their b.u.t.ts back and forth, just like Number 5 did when he hovered around.

My gang all thought it was hilarious, and I even saw a couple aliens snickering.

Number 5, meantime, was gathering so much anger-filled energy that every hair on my body was standing on end.

"You see," I said to him in as confident a tone as I could muster, "although I never had any doubt you'd come into this universe as an electronically gifted fish, I was totally stumped about how it was you were able to so easily broadcast yourself into electronic devices.

"I mean, I knew you'd taken over the television studio, and the broadcast substation, and the cell phone towers... but that didn't explain it. It was clear you were actually living inside the network, but how you were able to do that, well, that was the real mystery. At least until I noticed that you never blinked.

"Which led to me notice your impressive eye implants and all that crazy wiring that you must have had surgically placed inside you. I mean, that's some high-tech stuff!"

The scowl on Number 5's face was getting even uglier, if that's possible.

"And then I remembered seeing all those junior-sized neural nets in your transport containers, and I already knew you were reproducing yourself at an alarming rate-with your 'caviar' project and the ponds and all-and that must have been so you could run this program on a truly ma.s.sive, planetwide scale. I mean, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who'd be into fatherhood for the pure joy of parenting."

"Well, that's all very clever," he said, smiling suddenly. "But you're still only seeing a small part of the puzzle. And the bigger piece contains the part that's about to fry your skinny little b.u.t.t."

Chapter 82.

TIME WAS DRAWING short, so I did another minibroadcast to the townspeople to stop their "Number 5" dance: "Thank you for that fine performance! Now, people of Holliswood, please return to your homes. A brand-new episode of The Simpsons The Simpsons is on tonight!" is on tonight!"

"Shoot to kill any human attempting to leave the premises!" yelled Number 5 to his troops.

The humans within earshot all turned and looked at me apprehensively as hundreds of alien rifles aimed at their heads and chests.

"And bring me the McGillicutties!" their evil director commanded. "Now!"

I couldn't help but gasp. How could he have known about Judy? I'd taken every precaution...

The circle of aliens parted on one side, and Judy and her parents were ushered through as Soul Hooligan's "Stoop Kid" began playing on speakers all over the farm.

"Do the dance!" he yelled at them, and, sure enough, Judy and her parents began doing a Soul Trainstyle showcase. My stomach, heart, and every other organ in my body dropped like they'd just fallen off a bridge.

"Not only will they dance dance at a word from me," said Number 5, laughing, "but they will at a word from me," said Number 5, laughing, "but they will die, die, too. So just give me a single reason, you little punk, and the next time you two want to go out for ice cream, this young woman will be numbered among your other too. So just give me a single reason, you little punk, and the next time you two want to go out for ice cream, this young woman will be numbered among your other imaginary friends. imaginary friends."

Chapter 83.

IT PROBABLY WASN'T my brightest move ever, but what choice did I have?

"Let them go, Number 5," I said, aiming my hand like a gun at Number 5's flabby, slime-covered belly, just as I had with Number 21. "And I mean right now, right now, or my friends and I will spend the next ten minutes wiping you and your minions off the face of the Earth." or my friends and I will spend the next ten minutes wiping you and your minions off the face of the Earth."

"Oh, sure," he said, snorting even harder. "Are you guys getting all this?" he asked the circling film crews, rhetorically. "I just knew knew you were going to rise to the occasion, Alien Hunter. You've got a lot of substandard qualities I'm not going to miss, but n.o.body can fault your comic timing. I mean, here I am completely in control of the situation and you-what, are you going to shoot your fingernail at me?" you were going to rise to the occasion, Alien Hunter. You've got a lot of substandard qualities I'm not going to miss, but n.o.body can fault your comic timing. I mean, here I am completely in control of the situation and you-what, are you going to shoot your fingernail at me?"

"Drop your cell phones, go home, and wait for us," I said to the McGillicutties.

"Ah-ah-ah," snickered Number 5, so amused that he didn't even try to stop Judy and her parents as they nervously threaded their way through the alien hordes toward town. He dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief and turned to regard me, my friends, and my family.

"Right," he said. "So shall we do the climactic battle scene now, or do you want to go see Hair and Makeup first?"

"Very funny," I said, signaling to my friends to attack-and simultaneously unleashing a thunderous blast from my hand of the exact sort that killed Number 21.

Number 5 deflected the blast with a lightning bolt of his own, but at least I'd temporarily wiped the smile off his face. He even looked a little apprehensive as he glanced at my friends, who were now charging into his alien hordes like a bunch of berserk ninjas. Everybody but Emma, that is, who still hadn't returned.

But I couldn't worry about her now.

The battle was on.

Chapter 84.

AT FIRST WE held our own. The others were laying down every martial arts trick in the book and pushing the alien sc.u.m back away from the crumpled van while I managed to keep Number 5 on the defensive-forcing him to concentrate his attention on me.

But the tide quickly began to turn. Three thousand to seven aren't good odds, no matter how you look at it.

Especially when one of the three thousand is number five on The List of Alien Outlaws on Terra Firma, and you've quickly come to discover that you have once again underestimated his powers.

Like not realizing he has the ability to adjust the electromagnetic properties of the zipper on your motorcycle jacket so that he can zip it up over your head and you can't see until you forcibly rip the thing off-just in time to see him shoot a couple thousand volts of electricity at you...

Good thing I know how to duck. Fast.

"Had enough, Alien Hunter?" he asked, smiling once again. "Want to stretch out your last seconds on Earth? I tell you what-if you do a little dance for us, maybe I'll grant you a brief respite to put on some new shoes. I can't say I've ever sensed much rhythm in you, but I bet our alien audience would love to see you do some clog dancing."

Just then a random blaster shot caught Joe in the shoulder and spun him around like a rag doll. Dana quickly dragged him to cover and got to work bandaging him up while Pork Chop and Mom gave me looks of pleading desperation.

I knew we couldn't last much longer-there were just too many of them, and I was having too much trouble with Number 5 to be able to help the others.

"You win," I said, lowering my arm.

"Surrender?" he said.

"We surrender," I said, lowering my head in shame and signaling to my friends and family to step back.

Maybe I'll still figure something out, I thought, trying to console myself. I thought, trying to console myself.

"Ah-ah-ah!" he laughed and signaled to his troops to let up.

"Don't worry," he said, as the noise of the battle abated. "Under the circ.u.mstances, you've made the best decision you possibly could have, and I promise that your final minutes will be appreciated by trillions and trillions of aliens around the universe.

"Really," he went on, "when you think about it, what's a little humiliation and pain on your part when you'll be bringing laughter to at least half the known universe? Surely you know that old expression: 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'... or..."

His voice trailed off. Now that the melee had stopped, he and the rest of us could hear something very strange-a sort of howling, baying noise, like an enormous fox hunt, and then an unearthly roar.

We both looked over, and there to our west, cresting the hill, was an enormous, barking, snarling pack of mutts-big ones, small ones, brown ones, black ones, white ones, gray ones-racing toward the farm.

And that ant-lion that I'd rebrainwashed to hate aliens was at the head of the pack!

I also spotted, bringing up the rear-and running pretty hard to keep up-two human figures: Emma and a slightly taller one with gray hair whom I quickly recognized as the woman from the pound, the one who reminded me of my grandmother.

And then, like something out of a movie, there was a huge thunderclap and a rush of wind and rain.

The storm was picking up again.

Chapter 85.

I QUICKLY DETERMINED that I wasn't going to get a better chance than this, so I secretly signaled to my friends to be ready to rejoin the battle and cleared my throat.

"Um, Number 5?" I asked as he waved at his troops to go meet the intruders and then turned his mildly perplexed fish face back to me.

"Before that dance you want me to do," I said, "can I just see that necklace of my dad's? It means a lot to me, and I just want to touch it."

Number 5 rolled his eyes. "You do have some sense for good drama, you bad-haired little twerp," he said. "Sure, that sounds cinematic enough. The orphan communes with his dead father's keepsake. Come on over and have a look. Maybe we can even have a little good-bye hug, you and I," he said, stretching his tentacles wide.

I walked up to him, knowing full well that if I tried any tricks, he was summoning enough electricity to crisp me up worse than a chicken nugget left in a microwave for twenty-five minutes. At full power.

He offered me the necklace, and I took off the one I was wearing-my mother's, he'd have us believe-and twined them together as the camera crews circled for close-up shots of the bittersweet symbolism.

And then, as the tears started to course down my cheeks, I accepted Number 5's embrace.

I realized it was entirely possible he was going to fry me right then and there, but I suspected his love of drama was going to give me at least a few more moments.

There was a growing electrical charge in the clouds overhead, and when I sensed it had reached the critical level, I freed my arm from his smothering hug and hoisted the necklaces high up into the air.

Alien Hunter science-geek fact number 45: silver is one of the best conductors of electricity in the known universe. And there's almost nothing lightning loves better.

The bolt that coursed down into my arm and met Number 5's own electrical reserves must have been more than a gigavolt, and it did just what I'd been hoping it would-it overloaded and totally fried fried his circuits. his circuits.

You see, while his alien wiring had been designed to handle vast quant.i.ties of electricity, it was meant to handle it coming from the inside, inside, not the not the outside. outside.

The scream he let out almost made me feel bad for him, and the smell made me feel bad, period. All that raw electricity lit up his internal circuits like toaster wire and basically cooked him up like a three-hundred-pound platter of Cajun-style catfish.