A satire of dysfunctional government and economic inequality.
Chapter II: Day/Page 11 CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. . . . She is startled by the clatter of running footsteps on the stone floor.
“There you are, Sofia. I thought I might find you down here,” calls out her roommate Lyra, running excitedly towards her. Lyra is a Falcon too, though taller and heavier than Sofia, with softer curves and gentler features, compared to Sofia’s more angular build. “The LSP meeting just finished,” Lyra says.
Sofia rises to greet her. “Well, what did they decide? What’s the plan?”
“We’re definitely going to send someone there. Maybe several people. We’ll go in first to do research, and then they’ll send in the military Hawks after that to pluck the plumes off the pigeons.”
“What? Don’t say that!” snaps Sofia. “We don’t even know what kind of life is on my—on the planet—and everybody’s talking about wiping them out.”
“It was one of the military Hawks who said it, not me. I’m just repeating what I heard. Why are you getting so testy?”
“I don’t understand how people can talk so lightly about resetting an entire class-1 species. Like there’s nothing more to it than flipping off a light switch. What if somebody did that to us?”
“Oh, come on, Sofia, now you’re being silly. Nobody would do that to us. Nobody could! We’re the most advanced of the—”
“I’m not talking about whether someone would or could. I’m talking about what right one species has to extinguish another. What makes one life more important, when it is all anyone has? If you take that away, then you take away everything! Every dream, every thought, every wish, everything they ever could or might become! So I don’t see why we have the right to simply…”
Lyra had heard Sofia’s spiels about cosmic injustice countless times before. Over glasses of wine at the pub, she knew all about Sofia’s ardent desire to iron out the wrinkles in the universe. To fix what idiots wrought. Today, though, without the congenial lubrication of wine, she sounded to Lyra like a scratchy record.
Sofia stops, noticing the weary cloud darkening her roommate’s face. “I’m sorry, Lyra. Don’t listen to me. Like you said, I’m just being silly. Please… go on… tell me what else you heard.”
Lyra brightens instantly. “Ok, so we don’t know exactly when yet, they haven’t decided, but people from the Academy are going to go to the planet first, to monitor and study things, so we can learn as much as possible about them before they pluck—Sorry, you know what I mean.”
Sofia nods, indicating for her friend to continue.
“Anyway, I heard that . . . . TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Gregory James
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