More short fiction. I catch a lot of flak for my futurist views. While I can easily defend my views challenge by challenge, I sometimes prefer to do it through storytelling. Bring your toy back to the carpet.
“You will, of course, be required to act as our labor pool for at least two hundred generations,” the representative of the Galathran race reminded. “At such time as the planet is no longer viable for extraction of resources, we will find your people suitable replacement positions as labor on one of our other venture planets.”
Gruffly, as was his irreversible setting when dealing with any alien species, Director Tonnes pushed his stony chin outwards and upwards to glare over the forest of errant hairs erupting from his face. “And what about our culture? Our forefather’s tilled this land with their own hands. Our species built our future on this planet – our planet. We grew from the depths and have stormed the heavens, all by our own initiative, and by our own ingenuity.”
One of the Galathrans chuckled an aside to its neighbor. After withering under the glare of the lead representative of their race, they sat silently again while Dircetor Tonnes continued.
“This planet is a monument to our achievements, a standing and everlasting reminder of our triumphs,” Tonnes continued, reaching the pinnacle of his oratory. “The planet Earth is the human race. You strip her, and you strip us.”
The representative nodded his head, sympathizing with the plight of these simple newcomers to the major leagues of galactic society. “You and I, as males of our respective races are not very alike. Our males are the thinkers – we build, we expand, we invent, and we explore.”
“We are alike in that regard,” Tonnes corrected.
“Ah,” the representative continued. “But is it not true that your females also perform these tasks?”
“What does that have to do with anything? There have been as many female leaders of our society – just as many inventors, builders, and thinkers as males and with just as important a contribution to the history of our race.”
“Our females have only one purpose, and one need. They procreate, and to do so, they need males.”
The gathered earthlings all turned and looked at each other nervously. To their own surprise, not a female was among them. Each of them had let their own minds complete what the Galathran had been going to say. Everyone knew the distinct legacy of the Galathran female, some with personal experience. No other heavenly beauty could compare, no sexual experience could begin to match the soul-shattering ecstasy that was the Galathran females instinctive ability to evoke.
“They don’t even need a particular species to do what they do so well,” the representative continued. “In fact, your species is so close to our own that you won’t know the difference.”
“How many -” Tonnes began, his face blushing rose-colored.
“Billions upon billions,” the representative continued. He had these slugs by the talons now. “You would be surprised how much we are forced to cull them to balance our populations. This would give us an opportunity to put them to good use.”
“Should we -” one of the Earth delegates spoke hesitantly. “Shouldn’t we bring in one of our females, to … you know.”
Tonnes was already smiling. “I don’t think that’s necessary. We are elected representatives of the people. We can make this decision alone.”
“So, we have a deal?” the Galathran queried, grinning a remarkably disconcerting mouth full of fangs.
“Deal,” Tonnes stated with finality. Quickly, as if the pen was about to run out of ink, he signed away the rights of the fledgling Global Federation of Earth.
“Excellent,” the Galathran representative intoned. Turning to his companions, he shared in their growing mirth. “Remove their brains first, then start on the rest. No point in using obsolete models.”