writing-prompt-s:
The war has ended, and all governments have collapsed. Now the world is so devastated that recovery is but a pipe dream. Now, in a cruel twist of fate, a massive alien fleet arrives, demanding to speak to the leaders. You are chosen at random to address them.
You stare at the scrap of paper in your hand, a little black x marked in the center. The others stare at you expectantly. Tammy sets the hat down and gives you a hug. “You got this, Lou. You’ll be okay.”
You approach the bunker door, unsealing the bulkhead and stepping into the decontamination chamber. You close the door behind you and climb the stairs. For the first time in months, you see the sun. God, after so long underground, it almost feels normal up here.
Then you notice the source of the disturbance. A large… it’s a cluster of tubes? You’re not exactly sure. Whatever it is, it’s a ways off to the south. Maybe two miles of walking. You pull up your binoculars. You can hardly believe what you see - Strange, insect-like creatures are crawling out of a hatch in the bottom. They begin to set up equipment around the ship.
A smaller craft ejects from the side of one of the tubes. It looks almost like a boat, but with a hull on top and bottom. You realize a little too late that it’s headed in your direction, very quickly. You hit the dirt and pray to God, but a few seconds later the double-boat pulls up right over the treeline above you. It springs a couple of feet out of its side and lands next to you. Two of the insect things pop out of a door on the bottom. They approach.
You hear them chittering between one another. One pulls out a device and punches a couple buttons. It makes a strange hissing sound. They look at you, then at one another again. A few more keys pressed. Again the device makes a noise, low and loud this time, almost like…
Wait. You know that sound. From the zoo. The marine life exhibit, the sound whales make, singing to one another. You get up, slowly.
“Do you… have English on that thing? English.”
More chittering. A couple more presses. This time it emits a strange voice, almost human, but clearly synthesized.
“Greeting, denizen of planet. We none harm. Do you understand?”
You nod. “Yes, I understand.”
The insect creatures nod back to you in an exaggerated fashion. The movement seems a little strange on their bodies. The one holds a button and speaks into the device.
“We have detect large energy on planet surface, there are harmful radiation. We come to speak planet leaders, join galactic alliance, offer assistance to you impact by disaster.”
You look around. “Ah, jeez. Well, a couple months ago that probably would have been President Carson, but I think D.C. was one of the first to get nuked. If he survived the fallout, we haven’t heard from the Capitol yet. We… I don’t know how many more are left out there.”
They read the screen on the device. More chitters and chirps.
“Explain what is ‘nuked’?”
“Nuclear Bombs. There was a war, I… I don’t know who launched the first one, but the advisory went out over the TV, the radio. We’d had a shelter prepared since our great-grandparents built it in the 50s, we got in and just… waited.”
“You bomb you planet?”
“I guess you could put it that way. Not me, personally, but… the leaders.”
A long silence. After a few minutes, the two insects begin to chirp back and forth. Another question, directed into the device.
“Leaders bad?”
In spite of it all, you can’t help but crack a smile. “You wouldn’t be the first to say it.”
The two exchange words with one another. The other insect-creature brings out a device, topped with what appears to be a large solar panel. It plugs the speech synthesizer into the device, and text panels light up around a series of buttons.
“This thing make. Energy from sun, make into things. Food. Medicine. Give things to who need.”
It hands the device to you, gingerly. “Thank you.”
“Welcome. We return, one planet-cycle. Talk to you, leader. Be better of leader ‘President Carson.’ None harm planet.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The two nod vigorously at you, and climb back into the craft, presumably to look for other survivors. You walk back to the shelter, gizmo in hand. You know it’s not what they intended, but you hope to hell and back this thing can synthesize a cold one.
ALT
