---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Planets Apart” Down in the Dirt (v133) (the November/December 2015 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Sunlight in the Sanctuary (the 2015 poetry, flash fiction, prose & artwork anthology)		get this poem collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the Intersection the Down in the Dirt July - Dec. 2015 collection book		get the 318 page July - Dec. 2015 Down in the Dirt issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Service

Stephanie Hammerwold

    Alexander’s feet are propped up on the control panel as he stares out the front window. 45 minutes to go. Lights blink around his boots, and the planet is far enough away that it looks like he could send it off across the galaxy with a simple flick of his left foot.
    “It would be pointless. We really should reconsider this lame plan of yours.”
    “Lame? That’s rich. Did you pick that up from them?” Aurora says and gestures toward the window.
    “Yeah, I kind of like it. I think I’m going to take it back with us and use it.”
    “And if we have things your way, that’s all we’ll take back.”
    “Come on. You’ve watched them. You’ve seen what I’ve seen. We’ve talked about it plenty. They just don’t seem worth the effort of deploying the full force of what we have on board. There sure are lots of them.”
    “But they have those little things that play music and all those other useless gadgets those wrist fitness things. They’re primitive, but the kids back home would love them.”
    “Sure, they’ve mastered getting loads of music onto a small device, but I don’t see them mastering intergalactic travel.”
    They both laugh and stare at the target ahead of them. Their mission was always the same: launch the observation pods, wait for them to land, watch the footage from the planet, and make the decision about striking. If they destroyed life, they could go down and take what they wanted to sell or give away. Of course, anything that could be used to advance lives back on their planet would be handed over to the authorities. Others like them were all over the known universe, and a single aborted takeover would garner little notice from mission control.
    A sensor on the control panel gives out three, high-pitched beeps. Alexander puts his feet on the floor, reaches out, bounces his fingers on a numbered keypad and resumes his previous position. 40 minutes to go. They have to make a decision soon.
    “I just think it will be worth our time. We’d be doing them a favor really. Most of them are unhappy. They care little for the lives they’ve built for themselves, and so many of them work jobs that drain them and come home to families that are equally as draining. They just stare at those boxes and see pictures of people living the life they want. Ugh. Can you imagine?”
    “Uh, Aurora, what exactly was it that motivated you to sign up for this nine-year mission?”
    “Good point, but that’s exactly why I want to give it to them. It’s an easy out. It will be over for them in a flash, and then some other species can come along and make a better go at it.”
    “But don’t you get tired of all this invasion stuff? I mean, Invasion’s not even a good word for it. Things have been streamlined to the point where we just hit a few buttons, and it’s done. It’s a little too easy in my opinion. We don’t even give them a chance to fight back. That’s how it used to be. We’d let them fight. Now? Well, now there’s no contest—we just get what we want,” Alexander says.
    “What? You’d rather be down there with some kind of handheld weapon and bombs, picking them off one by one. That hardly seems effective when there are so many of them. It could take us months to finish up such a chore, and we could get hurt or killed in the process,” Aurora says.
    She gets up and walks over to a small screen hanging on the wall behind them. She pushes a button and a keyboard pops out of the wall as the screen comes to life. She taps the screen in a couple places and brings up a window. She types a quick message, hits send and pushes the keyboard back into the wall.
    “You told them we’re doing it, didn’t you?” Alexander asks.
    “I did no such thing. I told them we’re still undecided.”
    “Oh, Carlisle is going to love that!”
    “Only because he’ll know you’re the one holding things up,” Aurora says with a laugh.
    She looks around the ship. This place has been their home for three years already. It’s going to be a long six years if Alexander is already getting distracted by moral quandaries. It had been easy when they started. The observations sent back by the pods never gave them enough to get attached to whatever life they found crawling around. It was just enough to see if there was anything of use there—anything their planet could benefit from. If such things were not there, they flew away and left the planet’s beings to go about their tedious existence. Most of the places they saw were like that, which was the most disappointing part of it, at least in Aurora’s mind.
    She had taken this job to get away from her own such existence—the husband, the continued attempts and failures at having children, the job that did little more than pay the rent and keep her belly full. She had wanted a change, so when she struck up a conversation with Alexander while waiting for her morning latte and heard about his plans to join the Service, she decided to get his number and figure out how she could enlist as well. Her husband was not pleased, but what was nine years in the span of their lifetimes these days. Maybe a trip away would be what they needed to rejuvenate their marriage and give them the spark to have a kid or two. But so far she is not even sure she wants that kind of life anymore.
    “Let’s do it,” she says and looks at the clock. 35 more minutes. Almost time to commence the final protocol.
    “In the last few days, you have given me no more reason than ending their suffering. You know, euthanasia or something.”
    “Yes, it is a form of euthanasia.”
    “That’s not why this program was set up,” Alexander says. “See if there is anything worth taking. If so, destroy and take it. If not, leave them be and go away. It’s simple. We don’t get attached, and we certainly don’t get invested in curing their misery. I say we go. It will be a waste. We’ll save it for somewhere more useful—at least somewhere where total, instantaneous destruction is justified.”
    “Nice to see that you’re back. I was worried you were turning all soft on me. I was about to send you home with a protest sign in the escape pod. I’m glad it hasn’t really come to that.”
    “Me too. The thought of you spending the next six years up here by yourself would have done me in.” He reaches out an arm and pulls her toward him.
    “Stop it.”
    They look at each other for a moment before Alexander speaks. “OK, we’ll do it. We’ll take them out if you want.”
    “What made you change your mind?”
    “Your eyes, my dear. They do it every time.”
    Aurora laughs and gets up to prepare for the launch process. They still have time, but she likes to get things set early. It is just how she is. From this distance, the planet could be a painted rubber ball strung up with fishing line and suspended from a coat hanger in a child’s mobile for school. It is hard to believe that living beings swarm all over the patches of land that stand in sharp contrast to the bold blue that consumes much of the planet. Swirls of white coat the surface, and she is sure rain falls down there. She remembers the smell of wet pavement after a long awaited rainstorm—this is not the only place such things exist—and she longs to walk down there and take it in as the water evaporates in steam.
    She and Alexander say little as they move around the cabin and follow the protocol. She goes to the main control panel. Alexander reaches for her hand as he always does in this moment, and Aurora hovers her free hand over the keypad. It is just a matter of entering the final code.
    “You sure?” Alexander asks.
    The planet draws closer, and Aurora can almost feel the lives below as they go about their daily existence, not knowing how close it all could be to ending. Is she sure? No, but she reaches out with her fingers nonetheless.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...