3
Aug
A science fiction piece for you today, involving a rather interesting little critter, one that makes me chuckle.
I stepped down from the shuttle ramp, and looked about me. All the eye could see was swamp. Foetid, hideous, swamp. Vines curled about one another, making mazes of impenetrable layers. The murk bubbled with released gasses, and the smell was exquisite in a way that rotting corpses can never achieve. I had been sent to this godforsaken sore of a planet because it might, might, contain precious minerals. Yeah, and I might be the virgin goddess herself. One look around told me that unless this planet had a core of molten beryllium and uranium, trying to land, build a base, and dig through the layers of swamp mess was not cost effective. The company knew it too, but had to go through the motions, so they send me, a junior prospector with cheap tools in a broken down shuttle on my own in the ass end of the galaxy. Sometimes, I hate my life.
And how the hell was I supposed to prospect when there wasn’t even enough space for me to land the shuttle properly? It’s sitting on a tilt, one wingtip dragging in the water because there isn’t enough solid ground. So where does the equipment go again? I’m tempted to just through a few samples from around here into the machine, call it good, and bugger off. There’s nothing here.
Oh bloody hell, what is that? This planet bred the world’s largest mosquito! Bugger this place, I’m going home. I climbed back into the shuttle and shut the door, my heart pounding. The mozzie that had tried to stab me with it’s feeder was over two feet in wingspan. Damn thing would have killed me, but veered away at the last minute. Guess I didn’t smell right. Ugh. Sod this planet. I’m taking a nap then piloting out of here.
You know, something occurred to me while napping. That damn insect was glowing. That sickly green glow that was used in old 2D entertainment to show radiation. I wonder… Ok, I’ll check it out. Might give me something to talk about. I grabbed a Personal Defence Kit™ (yes, even in my own brain it’s got that little trademark), turned it on, and walked outside. Now all I had to do was wait. Zap, zap. Two glowing mosquitoes came too close to me for the PDK™ to be happy. Now to bundle them upstairs and into the analyser.
These creatures are heavy, I’m struggling to lift them, and they aren’t that big. And they’re glowing, even when dead. I wonder how they fly. Short, stubby wings, big feeding tube, and holes over a lot of their lower bodies. Hmm. Strange is what they are, very strange. Oh well. I’ve tossed one in the analyser, the other’s locked up in a storage bin. I’ll find out what they are after a night’s sleep.
All right, that wasn’t a night’s sleep. And something is banging away in the lab. What the hell is going on? I’m getting my PDK™ before going in there. Oookay, the storage bin is on the floor and bouncing around. How in the goddess’s name did that stupid mosquito survive the shock? It’s supposed to kill anything up to one tonne, and this stupid gnat is still alive. What a bloody mess of a planet. Well, at least the bug can’t dent the bin, so it can stay there. Now, the results on the dead one. Trace minerals, primary construction, yes, yes. Wait, WHAT?! The computer is telling me I just fed it a fusion plant. A small one, but a fusion plant. Umm… no. I fed you a mosquito that tried to stab me. It’s a bug, not a high tech device. Right, I’m turning on the PDK™ and feeding you in the bin into this stupid machine. Zap, zap. Idiot. In you go.
Waiting, waiting. I hate waiting. Well, I’ll go catch a few more of your friends and lock them into storage bins. Maybe this planet is more interesting than I thought. It’s still a smelly, foetid, goddess-forsaken hell of a planet, but a mildly interesting one. Zap, zap, zap. Three more insects, three storage bins filled up. And… yup, the machine still thinks you little guys are fusion plants. And I’m beginning to think it just might be right. Your wings can’t lift your weight, and you have venting holes on your torso. So, I’ve found the galaxy’s first nuclear-powered jet propelled mosquitoes. Oh boy am I going to be a laughingstock at base when I report this. And rich, once they believe me. My first prospecting alone, and it’s a perfect find!
My, my, what wonderful little insects you are. I could almost kiss you. Of course, then you’d try and eat me. So, you guys have a nice trip in those storage bins, and I’m going to file a report, because I want to see my colleagues faces when I step off the shuttle carrying you lot. This is going to be fun.
Comments
Leave a Reply