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“Get an open human channel,” Volt orders his comms officer.
His officer attempts to do just that, but our channels are not easy to break into in terms of being able to speak through them. The best that can be done in short order is radio chatter from planetary surveillance becoming audible on the bridge.
“Hey, Sid, can you check what’s in orbit?”
“There’s a lot in orbit. You got anything specific?”
“The big thing.”
“Okay. Uh. Hang on. Wow. That is big.”
“Huge.”
“Uh huh. Yep. One second.”
“Hm.”
Several seconds elapse before voice two, aka Sid, makes a determination. “Appears to be a Vulpari destroyer, class two.”
“What’s that doing here?”
“Says they’d like to lodge some paperwork.”
“In a Vulpari destroyer, class two? Unlikely. Are we sure it’s actually a Vulpari destroyer, class two?”
“Check with Denise.”
“Denise is on maternity leave. It’s Deborah now.”
“Oh, Deborah. She said there was a scythkin invasion vessel last week and it turned out to be a bit of her lunch on the screen. I wouldn’t worry about it. Let’s face it, if the day comes that a Vulpari destroyer, class two, appears in orbit, that’s probably the end of the bloody world anyway, isn’t it.”
“They’re not going to worry about us because we’re too scary to countenance?” Volt directs a questioning glare at me.
“That’s how we humans deal with a lot of things,” I say. I am feeling a sense of growing hopelessness. If Volt hates anything, it is not being taken seriously. These bureaucrats will never take him seriously because they do not expect the end of the world to come at 2.45 p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon.
“I am going to dominate this planet,” Volt snarls. “Begin the invasion.”
Deborah could have stopped this. Now I have to try to assuage the wrath of Volt.
“Please! No! Gods! Spare the planet!” It does not take much for me to sound panicked. I can see that Volt’s patience is at an end. His rage is endless, his appetite for revenge utterly insatiable.
“You could have allowed me to take vengeance on those who defiled the wild planet. Instead you brought me here. Now you will watch and understand what it is to lose that which can never be replaced.”
I stare at him, tears running down my face. Could he truly be this cruel? He is obsessed with preserving history and other such outdated things, and yet he wants to wipe humanity out because Deborah is a less than reliable analyst.
“Captain, sir.” One of the bridge officers interrupts.
“Yes?”
“There are twelve nuclear missiles headed toward us.”
I was afraid of this response. Volt has picked on a planet more than capable of defending itself. That is bad news for us, as we are about to be evaporated into our composite parts. We’ve come all this way just to be absolutely atomized. I barely have enough time to let out a wail of despair before the first impact hits the ship, creating what I can only describe as a slight shudder. It is followed by another eleven similar impacts, all of which combine to make two tenths of fuck all difference.
Volt laughs. “Foolish humans.”
I cover my face with my hands. Nuclear weapons are pretty much our most dangerous and offensive weapon. To have deployed twelve nuclear warheads and not made so much as a dent in Volt’s ship is going to be terribly demoralizing for all humanity.
“Nuclear weapons, such as those which hold such horror for your species, have no effect on a fully shielded ship. Shall I demonstrate what our weapons are capable of?”
“Volt! Enough! We get it. You’re the most dangerous creature in the universe and none may stand against you. Spare the planet.” It is so hard to beg for mercy when I am also very annoyed, but I hope I am managing to walk that finest of lines.
“I will spare the planet,” he says. “But I will not allow this madness to continue. Brains!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Set up the spatial net.”
I watch as many thousands of drones are emitted from the belly of the ship. I watch as they fan out high above the Earth’s atmosphere, forming an offset pattern of flashing flying points of light. I have no idea what the spatial net is, or what it will do to the world. I have a horrible feeling that I am watching the end of the world as we know it. This has happened several times before in the past, like when toasters were invented, or the time everybody thought x-rays were fun toys, but there is a cold momentousness to this occasion that I feel a deep sense of guilt for.
“Initiate the net!”
There is a sound so satisfying I can barely describe it. Like a thousand knives sliding through a thousand blocks of kinetic sand. Accompanying the sound is the appearance of thin lines of light, or perhaps space spider webs appear between all the drone nodes.
