The Ex-Space Tyrant’s Guide to Earthly Problems

Chapter 4: Eddy Current and the President’s Shenanigans

Hi, it’s me again, Sierra Fox—your favorite ex-space tyrant who allegedly just returned from a makeover in Thailand. Don’t believe me? Check the government database, courtesy of Grams, my ship's ex-AI overlord and queen of the digital playgrounds.

Anyway, as we walked back to our Earth home, the early morning sun had already risen over the tree line, casting long, dappled shadows across the street. The golden light filtered through the thick branches of the oaks, painting the sidewalk in a soft, warm hue. I could smell the faint aroma of damp grass and freshly watered lawns, the kind of smell that immediately took me back to summer mornings spent riding my bike up and down this block.

The houses here, while mostly the same, had aged with time. Paint chipped on a few fences, and some of the lawns had grown wild with untrimmed hedges. A few homes looked newly renovated, their pristine siding gleaming like they’d been freshly polished. There were cars parked in the driveways—some old, some sleek and new—further emphasizing the passage of time since I had left.

What really struck me, though, was the empty lot. The one where I used to race my friends and pretend we were astronauts exploring faraway planets. It was gone now, replaced by a neat row of townhouses that looked identical, with their uniform brick facades and cookie-cutter windows. It felt… foreign, as if someone had scrubbed away a piece of my childhood and replaced it with something cold and unfamiliar.

A few neighbors were up already, sipping coffee on their porches or taking their dogs for a morning walk. One elderly woman I vaguely remembered from my childhood eyed us curiously from behind her curtains, her face half-hidden in shadow. She was probably wondering who the silver-haired stranger walking with Jim and Karen was.

“So, Dad,” I asked, trying to make sense of everything, “why did you believe I was James so fast? I mean, it’s not every day your long-lost son calls you out of the blue and says, ‘Hey, I’m a girl now.’”

Dad just shrugs. “Well, you remember Uncle Eddy, right?”

I blink. Uncle Eddy? “The funny guy who used to play with me?”

“Right, him. Well, he was in a lot of debt,” Dad continued, casually looking away like he was pondering some deep philosophical question. “To avoid his creditors, he fled to Thailand and got a full-body makeover. Came back with a new face, a new name—Electra. And, well, let’s just say, he, I mean she, didn’t exactly come back looking like himself at all.”

Mom chimes in from behind. “Well, he’s still fat and bald.”

Dad chuckles, shaking his head. “That was five years ago. Maybe they’ve got better technology nowadays.”

I stop mid-step, blinking at him. “Wait, you’re telling me you believed I was James because of Uncle Eddy’s... plastic surgery getaway? That’s your frame of reference here?”

“Well… yes. But it turned out well in the end, didn't it?” Dad smirks.

Oh. Wow. So this is my life now? I get sucked into a wormhole, turned into a silver-haired teenage girl, and Dad’s just like, ‘Oh yeah, remember Uncle Eddy and his shady Thailand makeover?’ Seriously? This is the bar we’re setting? Fantastic.

Still in shock that my life-altering, galaxy-spanning adventure is now being compared to Uncle Eddy’s budget Thailand trip, we arrived at the house. The dented on the garage since the time dad may or may not have crashed into it fourteen years ago is still there.

The house looks a little different than I remember—though, to be fair, I’m about a foot and a half shorter than I used to be. Everything looks bigger when you’re no longer six feet tall.

As we reached the front door, the old wooden steps creaked underfoot. Standing there, surrounded by the familiar smell of Mom’s lavender air freshener and the sound of Lily’s footsteps echoing through the house, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d stepped into a time capsule. Only now, I’m the alien. Ten years away from Earth, and somehow, this moment—this absurdity—felt more surreal than anything I’d faced in the far reaches of space.

Then, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, followed by the sleepy voice of my little sister.

“Mom? Dad?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes in her pajamas. “Where did you two go this early? And, by the way, some weird scammer called in the middle of the night pretending to be James.”

I freeze. Oh, this is going to be good.

“She claimed she was James,” Lily yawns, clearly not fully awake. “Scammers these days. At least make your story believable, right? I mean, the voice was way too pretty to be that idiot brother of mine.”

Dad tries to jump in, probably to spare Lily the whiplash she’s about to experience, but I step out from behind him before he can get a word in.

“Hi, Lily,” I say, flashing her a nervous grin. “It’s me. James.”

Lily’s eyes go wide, her jaw dropping slightly as she takes in my appearance. Silver hair, blue eyes, and definitely not the lanky, awkward teenage brother she last saw ten years ago. The wheels were visibly turning in her brain. Clearly, she was struggling to connect the dots and failing miserably.

But with Dad smiling and nodding confidently—like he was guaranteeing the authenticity of a fake Rolex—she finally does a double take.

“James?” she repeats, blinking. “James James? As in... my brother James?”

“Yep,” I say, popping the ‘p.’ “Surprise?”

Lily stares at me, her brain clearly short-circuiting. “So, not only are you back, but you’re telling me the person standing in front of me—who looks like they just walked out of a JRPG—is my brother?”

I grin, leaning in slightly. “Depends on which JRPG you’re talking about.”

Her glare tells me to stop talking.

Her face contorts into a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “You expect me to believe that the same guy who used to eat Cheetos in bed and lose at Mario Kart turned into... a cute girl with silver hair?”

“Hey!” I protest. “First of all, I didn’t always lose at Mario Kart. And second, it wasn’t exactly by choice. There was a wormhole involved. And, you know... nanomachines.”

Lily pinches the bridge of her nose, looking like she’s trying to prevent a headache from forming. “Nanomachines? Wormholes? Really, James? This sounds like something out of your stupid video games.”

“I mean, it does sound crazy, but...” I trail off, glancing at Mom and Dad for backup.

Dad chuckles. “It’s true. And hey, at least now you’ve got a sister instead of a brother. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

However, Mom just shrugs. “Don’t ask me, I’m still waiting to see. For all we know, she could still be one of Dad’s mistresses.”

Dad winces and adds, “Do you think I’m that brave?!”

Lily glares at him. “I’m still processing the fact that my brother is now standing in front of me looking like a character out of an anime. Don’t make things more complicated!”

“Well, if it helps, I can also remotely strangle people with my mind and have a spaceship the size of the moon,” I add, thinking it’d be a good idea to tell her everything. You know, transparency is the best policy.

However, Lily just looks at me like I’d told her I won the lottery, but first, I needed her credit card number to claim my $10 million inheritance from a long-lost royal uncle in Zimbabwe.

Then Lily crosses her arms, staring me down like I’m a scammer about to steal the family’s nonexistent fortune. “Prove it.”

I blink. “Prove what? The strangling thing?”

Surprised that, in my absence, she’d developed a taste for these kinds of games, I start to wonder if she’s serious.

“No, silly, the spaceship! Your moon-sized spaceship!” Lily practically explodes.

Ah, there it is. The ol’ “show me your spaceship” trick. I scratch the back of my head, feeling like I’ve been caught sneaking cookies from the jar. “Well… there’s one small problem with that.”

Lily narrows her eyes. “What problem?”

I hesitate. I don’t really want to bring this up. I mean, it’s not like it’s my fault the U.S. President decided to get grabby. “You see... I kinda abducted—er, beamed up Ronald Dumbf for a chat last night, but... things got weird.”

Lily’s face goes blank. “You did what?”

Before I can respond, Mom’s in full meltdown mode, classic Karen fashion. “You abducted the President of the United States?!”

I hold up my hands defensively. “It wasn’t exactly an abduction. More like... an interstellar chat. And, okay, in my defense, he did threaten me and demanded to touch my chest. So, uh, I beamed him back to bed. With that kind of IQ, he probably thinks it was all a dream.”

“HE DEMANDED TO TOUCH YOUR CHEST?!” Mom explodes.

I blink, a bit confused by the intensity of her reaction. I mean, didn’t she just accuse me of possibly being Dad’s mistress a few moments ago?

Anyway, I interject before she goes too far. “That’s not the point, Mom. The point is, the beaming-up process may cause humans to turn dumb.”

“HOW IS THAT NOT THE POINT, YOUNG LADY?!” Mom rages on, but Lily holds up her hand.

“STOP! Mom! Let me think!” Lily says, pacing around the room like a soap opera detective. “You see, that Ronald Dumbf guy is already stupid. That means it’s not the transporter’s fault. So, I dare you to beam me up.”

It looks like Lily is ready to go where no sister has gone before. I glance at her, shrugging. “Alright, just don’t come crying to me when the transporter gives you a mild headache and you bomb your midterms.”

Lily narrows her eyes. “Hey, that’s not even fair! Don’t jinx it!”

“Grams, four to beam up,” I say with a sigh.

In an instant, the room shifts, and with a familiar hum, we’re no longer standing in my childhood living room. Instead, we’re in the pristine observation deck of my moon-sized spaceship that’s chilling at the outer edge of the solar system. The air smells faintly of metal and ozone, the soft hum of the ship’s systems buzzing in the background.

Mom, clutching Dad’s arm, looks around in shock. "Oh... my... goodness."

Lily’s jaw drops, her detective act crumbling as fast as a cheap soap opera plot twist. Her eyes go wide, darting from one massive window to the next, taking in the sprawling view of space—the stars, the planets, and Earth itself hanging in the background like a tiny marble. It’s as if her brain can’t quite decide if this is real or one of my elaborate pranks.

She presses her hands against the glass, as if trying to make sure it’s not some hologram. “Holy... crap. Is this... real? I’m in space?”

“Yeah,” I say, smirking. “Welcome aboard the S.S. 'I-Told-You-So.'”