ORBITERS: Earthlings!

Watching and waiting, visitors from the Moon orbit the planet. Their mission: Conquer Earth. Of course, that’s the easy part…

Captain Rollhagen was not — like some people, or many people, or possibly all people — what he seemed. Outwardly decisive, he had many inward qualms. Earth must be destroyed. Or rather subdued. Earthlings would be hauled to Mars, kicking and screaming if necessary.

“It can’t come soon enough,” Army Commander Laurence Washburn said. He and Rollhagen had just finished coordinating reports. Outside the viewing bubble, Earth turned placidly. Washburn pointed. He brought back his thumb and took aim. “Pow.”

Rollhagen puffed his cheeks. “Conquering Earth doesn’t worry me. It’s the trip to Mars.”

“To Mars? Why?”

“Seven billion people, spending night and day aboard space zeppelins? They can’t get along on Earth, and they have an entire planet.”

“Well, they’ll have to get along.”

“That’s what has me concerned.”

Washburn wore his steel-gray hair in a severe crewcut. Lean as a rake handle, he couldn’t wait for action. He wasn’t afraid of dying. The real fear was missing the chance.

“Relax,” he said. “Transport is the easy part. The zeps are stocked with T-bones and Johnny Walker Red. There’s casinos and shopping malls. The usual hot air elections while en route. We’ve got it all planned, They’ll blame it on Trump. Wait until they get to Mars. Mining for the rest of their lives will wise them up.”

Or not. The captain shook his head. “I feel sorry for them, Larry.”

“Sorry?” Washburn displayed a scorn he did not really feel. “What’s gotten into you, Rollhagen? Going soft?”

“Not me, Commander. I know my duty.”

“That’s better. And I don’t want to hear anyone whining about all these ‘poor Earthlings’. In a hundred years they would have blown themselves to Kingdom come anyway. We’re doing them a favor. And don’t you forget it.”

Captain Rollhagen supposed so. Earthlings! Would they ever learn?

Richard Donnelly

Richard Donnelly

Richard Donnelly lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Classic flyover land. Which makes us feel just a little… superior. He publishes a weekly column of essays on the writing life at richarddonnelly.substack.com