It was a normal day until the tank flew through his window.
Sterling had only just gotten home from the library when it happened. He walked into his tiny two-room apartment – if bathrooms count as a second room – and was looking for something to appear in his refrigerator when an obnoxious buzzing drilled its way into his eardrum. He walked to the window and saw the miniature tank plummeting towards him. He dove out of the way just before the tank smashed the glass and crash-landed on his bed, spewing smoke and ash.
This, of course, did not improve Sterling’s already sour mood. Four years studying history at a ridiculously expensive university had landed him a dead-end job in the children’s section of the city library. Why did the library bother maintaining a children’s section, anyway? All kids cared about these days were their video games and third-grade boyfriends. Sterling loved books, but the job was pointless and boring. He desperately hoped that another opportunity would pop up. A broken window and ruined sheets were the exact opposite of what he needed.
Sterling watched the tank warily. It was about a foot and a half long, and its treads were coating in black muck. A hatch opened above the turret, and a four-inch tall man crawled out, cursing under his breath. His skin and hair were dark, and he wore grimy overalls over a soot-covered orange t-shirt. He opened a hatch at the front of the tank, letting loose a fresh cloud of smoke, and started doing something that involved a wrench and a lot of banging.
Sterling had no idea who – or even what – the man was or why he’d crash-landed on his bed, but Sterling wasn’t going to stand for it. “Who are you and what do you want?”
The man noticed him for the first time and squinted at him from inside the tank. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” he demanded, his voice deep.
“Ruining my sheets.”
The man shook his head and returned to his work. Sterling crossed the room and grabbed the man by his overalls. “Hey! Lemme go!” the man shouted, striking Sterling’s fingers with his tiny wrench.
“Not ‘till you tell me who you are and why you crashed a tank on my bed,” Sterling answered.
“What’s going on?” A female voice emerged from the tank, followed by a five-inch female body. She caught sight of her companion in Sterling’s grasp and said, “Oh my.”
“I think I’mma need a little help here, Petra,” the man said.
“Listen, sir,” the female said slowly. “We apologize for the intrusion. We had some mechanical problems, but if you’ll release my mechanic, we’ll be on our way in a moment.”
Sterling looked back and forth between the two tiny people. “Seriously, what are you?”
“Man, this guy’s a scratched CD,” the man mumbled.
“We’re representatives of the United Federation of Spirits and Sprites on our way to negotiate a peace treaty between the nymphs and the gremlins,” the woman explained. “Please, our mission is urgent, and we cannot afford delays.”
“So you’re fairies?”
“Hey, you gone too far now!” the man shouted, swinging his wrench at Sterling’s fingers.
“Tanks, please!” the woman said. Apparently the man was named after his vehicle. To Sterling, she added, “Please, sir. We’ll only be a moment.”
Sterling put Tanks on the bed and stepped back. “Fine. Just make it quick. I don’t need a bunch of fairies or pixies or whatever in my apartment.”
Tanks grumbled something Sterling couldn’t hear and returned to his repairs. “My name is Petra,” the woman said. “If you don’t mind, sir, might I ask your name?”
“Sterling,” he answered. Petra was clearly the diplomat of the outfit, and not just because of her even temper. She was wearing white robes lined with blue at the seams, and she had a silver tiara on her head. Sterling supposed she was attractive, but he didn’t usually go after women who were barely five inches tall.
Wait a minute. Sterling shook his head. Now that the shock had worn off, he had to be hallucinating. “Okay, deep breaths,” he muttered. “Just calm down, and they’ll go away.”
“Man, what you talkin’ ‘bout?”
Much to his annoyance, the two tiny people and miniature tank were still on his bed. “Alright, this is crazy,” Sterling said. “Fairies don’t exist. This has to be a nervous breakdown or something.”
“Hey man, you lookin’ to get beat or somethin’?” Tanks demanded.
“You shut up. I don’t believe in fairies.”
Petra looked stricken. “Sterling, please! Every time someone says that-”
“A fairy somewhere drops dead, I know,” Sterling interrupted.
“No, Tanks tries to blow his face off.”
Sterling looked down at Tanks, who stood expectantly with his beefy arms crossed. “I’ll do it. Don’t you doubt it.”
Sterling gave up. This was at least more interesting than alphabetizing picture books all day, even if it was all in his head. “So, you’re off to negotiate a peace treaty?”
“Oh, yes,” Petra said emphatically while Tanks returned to his work. “It’s quite dreadful. The nymphs and gremlins are always quarreling, even at the best of times, but now they’ve become practically impossible. The nymphs raided one of the gremlin outposts yesterday, and unless we can-”
“Yeah, not to be rude, but isn’t taking a tank to a peace treaty kind of a bad idea?”
“You’ve obviously never dealt with nymphs before,” Tanks called from the tank’s innards. “Besides, this baby’s the fastest thing we got.”
“Don’t fairies have wings?”
Tanks extracted himself from his work. “Man, I told you to stop calling us fairies!”
“It’s a sensitive topic,” Petra explained. “The fairies broke away from the Federation several years ago.”
“So the fairies are like rebels?”
“They’re worse,” Tanks said from somewhere inside the tank. “They’ve been attackin’ and raidin’ the Federation ever since, wipin’ out whoever they want.”
“So why don’t you send your tank in after them?” Sterling asked.
“You think we’re the only ones with tanks?” Tanks said as he slammed the lid shut. “They’re the reason we had to land. This ol’ girl’s tough, but not indestructible.”
“Al…righty then.”
“Well, she’s as good as she’s gonna get for now,” Tanks told Petra. “We’d better be off before they track us here.”
“Right.” Petra turned to Sterling with a smile. “Sterling, we thank you for your hospitality and take our leave.”
Sterling wanted to point out that he hadn’t offered them anything, but decided he didn’t care enough to fight about it. The two climbed into the tank and took off, flying through the window and out of sight. Sterling dug a board out of the dumpster outside and put it over the window. Hopefully he’d be able to get it fixed before the landlord noticed.
