"Of course," said Lyle. "It's their insidious plan. The Boomers run everything, they own everything. The whole world is run just to fulfill every felt need of the Boomers. If you destroy the Boomers, you can take over the world."
"My master didn't want to take over your world! He loved your world," said the computer. "He studied your world for the InterGalactic Archives." The satellite computer started to cry: "My master cared more about you than you ever cared for yourselves… ah whahaha." The satellite's emotional outburst sounded like deeply-felt, grief-stricken sobbing. It was pitiful.
"Hey, it's okay," said Lyle. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"Humph," sniffled the satellite. "You people are so ungrateful. He even brought you a gift!"
"A gift?" said Portia.
"Yes," said the satellite. " A very special garment made from neural-active netting. It's a communication device, among other things. It will allow one of you to be in contact with my master's people. It was meant for the one named Lyle Green."
"Th.. that's meh," stuttered Lyle. "How could you know I would be…"
"Here it is," said the satellite computer.
A cloak made of wire mesh that looked like golden chain mail appeared on the floor beside Donny and Ayame who, startled, suddenly found a way to extricate themselves and back away from the garment -- fast.
"Wait," said Donny. "We don't know what it is."
"That doesn't matter, Don," said Mickey. "I think we're pretty much at the mercy of this visitor from another galaxy. If it wants to hurt us, there are easier ways than to add a tacky golden kimono to Lyle's wardrobe."
"Should I put it on?" asked Lyle, looking from Jules to Verna to Mickey.
"Yes, of course," said Mickey. "What harm can it do?"
Lyle pulled the robe over his head. It radiated pure golden light from every link. It was stunning to behold. Sparkles flitted around the room.
Lyle and the satellite began to speak in unison. "'You must take this robe and the messenger, Lyle Green, and return to your planet and destroy the Boomers. They will not change and your planet must begin an immediate ecological turnaround in the next few months or your species is doomed.'"
"But murder is wrong," said Portia to Lyle, as if he was in control of his words. "We can't kill our grandparents."
"'You must or you and your children will die too.'" Lyle looked down at the robe, surprised that he had spoken simultaneously with the Alien signal. "Well, it's pretty good reception from this part of the galaxy." Then he flinched with surprise and started speaking again, looking to Mickey with confusion in his eyes. "'We send a message of good will but we must warn you now. Your glaciers are about to fall. They have been melting from within for a quarter of a century. It will be a catastrophic event, but your planet has seen many of those before and will again. I'm sorry to say that all of your coastal cities will be destroyed. There is nothing we can do to help you, we are simply too far away.'"
The Aliens continued to talk through Lyle. "'I want you to know that all the advanced sentient species in your sister galaxies welcome you into the family of intelligent life forms. But we cannot tolerate any further destruction of the planet for which your galaxy was formed. All humans who have passed the age of 60 will be executed upon your return to Earth. Do not worry, for many of them this will be a very pleasant outcome. I'm sorry to say, for others, not so pleasant.'"
Lyle looked distressed but unable to stop talking for the Aliens. "'If humans do not stop the use of all fossil fuels within one Earth year, we are giving the messenger the power to extinguish the lives of all adult humans. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but you leave us no choice. For those of you who now remain, it's time to get to work. If you live near a coastal area - you have 90 days to move.'" Lyle and the satellite stopped talking.
"Is that the whole message," asked Portia.
"I'm not getting anything," said Lyle. "I don't see a button on the suit, so I assume it's only got one channel."
"What are we going to do?" asked Ayame. "We can't kill our parents. It is a terrible thing to even contemplate."
"How would we do it anyway?" asked Donny. "It's not like we have a weapon."
That's when everyone looked at the robe.
"Oh, Lyle," said Mickey. "You're not just the harbinger of death. You’re a weapon of mass destruction."
"Get it off me," said Lyle, pulling the robe over his head and throwing it on the floor.
"Chuck it outside," said Verna. "Get rid of the thing!"
"I wouldn't do that," said the satellite over the speaker system.
"Jules?" scolded Portia.
"I didn't open a comlink," said Jules. "It's eavesdropping."
"The robe is made of the finest material in creation," said the satellite. "It's worth a great fortune. The molecules have properties that can not be synthesized in your galaxy."
"I don't care. I don't want it," said Lyle.
Nobody wanted it. They probably wouldn't have wanted it under any circumstances, but it sure didn't hurt that they'd just been through the fuzzynavel and were feeling really well-adjusted and content and the robe was having a terribly harsh effect on their buzz.
No comments:
Post a Comment