An empire lurking on the dark side of the Moon sounds scary, to say the least. But Malthusians are really quite peaceable. They left Earth ten thousand years ago with no intention of returning. Unfortunately, those who refused to leave were not so peaceable.
These were the Troublemakers, who couldn’t get along with anyone. Not even themselves. They refused to live in the clean, super-modern cities… ate animals, and drank alcohol, quite a bit. They loved contact sports. They also loved a fight, for any reason. Or no reason at all
“We will kill you,” they told their departing neighbors. For leaving Earth, we will kill you. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But that’s a Troublemaker for you.
Malthusians tried to get them to clean up, stand up straight, and come with. They used persuasion. “Listen, friends. We’ve built some very nice cities. The Moon is a splendid place. Give it a chance.”
“We will kill you.”
And logic. “If you stay here things will go bad. An ice age has arrived. How long can you stand the weather?”
“We will kill you.”
And bribery. “We’ll give you a stipend. On the moon you can work any job you like. Or no job at all.”
“We will kill you.”
“Could you quit using the word kill?”
“We will kill…”
Earthlings, of course, are descendants of the original Troublemakers. It sort of makes sense.
So the sophisticated, handsome Malthusians left us behind. And sure enough, we were soon wearing animal skins and knocking each other off with stone axes. Fast forward to the present. With the help of Jeff Bezos, the moon will soon be swarmed by joyriding tourists, and our long-forgotten relatives discovered. If this makes them a little nervous, they can be forgiven. “We will kill you.” That’s a hard one to forget.
“We ought to simply roast them,” Lt. Cmdr. Kenneth Kern said at a routine meeting aboard Spaceship One. Such meetings made him impatient. “Strip the atmosphere and bake them like Chips Ahoy cookies.”
“Mr. Kern!” Jennifer Tate exclaimed. “How could you say such a thing?”
“Why not? Mars won’t change them.”
“Well, it might,” Tate said.
Earthlings would be deported to graphite mines on Mars. It was thought a little hard work and a few generations of enforced coexistence would pacify them.
Captain Rollhagen spoke up. “Commander, let me remind you the Malthusian Constitution forbids harming others. Now let’s get back to business.”
Kern spoke under his breath. “That’s one constitution that needs amending.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
In truth, Mr. Kern didn’t really want to roast Earth. Sending the entire population to Mars would be far more fun. They might scatter, or attempt to blend in with the invaders. But there would be no hiding, not from Kern’s beady black eyes. If there was one thing he was good at, it was spotting a troublemaker.
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