The news on his feed was coming in faster and more frequently. Einstein Was Right; Einstein Was Wrong; Parallel Universes Exist; Past, Present and Future Occur Simultaneously: Wormhole Discovered; Black Holes Collide; Gravity and Light Travel at the Same Speed; Black Hole Ejects Matter. But most worrying, Scientists Can’t Explain Enormous Object Approaching Our Galaxy.

The Green Man hadn’t experienced such dread since he first arrived on Earth. A sense of being discovered, found out, exposed. He calmed himself. It was unlikely that in all the galaxies in the universe, they had found him on this small blue planet, but it wasn’t impossible. He had to leave. They were too close.

There were many more galaxies where he could hide. Many solar systems with blue-green planets where he could commune with the flora and be safe. When he thought about it, it surprised him he had hid here for so long.

The humans had his ship. It took them millennia to find it. First, they worshiped it. He didn’t care; he didn’t need it. Then they began to study the ship, but still he didn’t care. He didn’t need it and they couldn’t understand it. But now he needed it back.

Bored with being worshipped, bored with human antics and savagery, he disappeared. Only a few remembered him. It was time to go back to his old ways and have them do his bidding. He started on the outskirts of the city. The burnt-out buildings between the suburbs and the rich people’s homes were where he could get what he needed.

First, he found an old man. Toothless, bald, and smelly, but easy to fix. He needed a male to play the lead role in getting his ship back. Then a woman stumbled past his lair. She would be perfect, playing the role of a distraction. He had a pang of human consciousness as he collected five children. Dirty, sinewy, slow mentally and physically from the lack of resources in the bombed-out void, but spry enough for his needs.

So, the work began. The terrarium he constructed in the basement of a partially collapsed building cleaned and nourished them, rejuvenated and prepared them for the roles they’d play. He brought them clothes and had them rehearse the different scenarios for the infiltration and subjugation of the laboratory where the government imprisoned his ship.

His puppets were cooperative, the possibility of a better existence and having a purpose stimulated the pleasure and drive centers in their primitive minds. He let them out of the terrarium and they stayed close, now reliant on him; worshiping him like the humans used to.

On the day of the mission, the woman fell ill. “I can’t. I can’t. My knees. My elbows.”

He put her back with the terrarium’s flora to give her a boost of cortisol. The swelling stopped. She pledged her devotion. The others became more faithful, more in awe of his powers. “Heal us”, “protect us”, “don’t go,” they begged. “Take us with you.”

It made him want to leave more. He remembered why he’d forsaken the humans, why he’d hidden for so long that most had forgotten him. He ordered them out of the terrarium, out of the bombed-out building and toward the facility where the military studied his ship. They followed his instructions, eager to please.

The laboratory guards eyed the old man suspiciously as they checked his credential in their database. His uniform was correct. The terrarium had fixed his teeth. His hair, what was left of it, buzzed tight around his ears in the planet’s military fashion, was correct for the role. It all seemed correct, yet they hesitated.

Once the man passed the gate, the woman appeared for her scene. She fell, just as practiced. Her screams and threats of litigation exceeded what she’d done in rehearsals, and she was good in rehearsal. Maybe the cortisol inspired her. The guards agreed to let her sit in the sentry station while they called the base’s medical team.

The children kicked a can across the gate. Suddenly, he realized he’d miscalculated. The decade of striped shirts, flat sneakers, and kick the can was too far in the past. He should have opted for lipstick, green and purple hair and those god-awful mobile devices that this decade’s humans couldn’t look away from.

The guards puzzled at first, but caught on quickly and pressed the emergency button.

Vibrations reached his hiding place. His ears rang. They’d learned more from his ship than he expected. Human technology had advanced more than he realized. His camouflage vegetation melted. Before he could step away and abort the mission, the vibrations tuned to his frequencies, freezing him in place. Soldiers surrounded him. The scientists emerged from the laboratory.

“They’re coming,” he protested, straining against the frequencies paralyzing his muscles. “I can help you. I can save you,” he lied.

The soldiers didn’t listen, or maybe they couldn’t hear over the vibrations. The old man and woman knelt and groveled. “Don’t take our master,” they wailed. The children laughed and pointed, like they’d never really been under his spell.

Switching frequency to vibrate his way free didn’t work; the humans had perfected their harmonics and he couldn’t move. A containment vessel appeared above the Green Man. He reached tendrils into the planet, searching for his roots, but the asphalt blocked him.

As the vessel covered him, he watched the woman slump over in pain. The man lost his military bearing, his teeth yellowed, splayed, and fell out. The children returned to their lethargy, breathing again through their slack mouths.

Clanging on the asphalt, the vessel sealed him inside. He hoped the humans had perfected their technology enough to stop the giant object racing through the galaxy to find him, but he doubted it. Maybe it was time they all got what they deserved.