posted on May, 3 2012 @ 12:57 PM
“Sir! Sir!” shouted Zorg, sliding forward quickly. “We have decoded the message. They are waiting for you in the conference room.”
Borak nodded gravely and squared his leathery shoulders. He walked calmly down the corridor, ignoring the incredible views of the Milky Way framed in
each window. Outside the conference room he paused, took a deep breath, then pushed open the door and entered.
Inside, several of his comrades waited, perched on lilac stools that swayed ever so slightly. Upon his entrance, they leaped to their feet and stood
at attention. Behind him, he heard Zorg slip into the room.
Borak slowly took his seat at the head of the table. He coolly nodded at everyone, and then turned his attention to Spurk. “Your report,
Spurk took a deep breath and spoke. “At 0800 yesterday we received the same transmission as before, this time from sixteen different satellites.
We contacted our sources on the ground and they all agree, the message is being repeated in every major country.”
Borak studied his tentacles. “And the message?” he asked.
“We’re mad as hell, and we’re not going to take it anymore.”
Borak glanced up, surprised. “Do we know what it means?”
“I can answer that, sir,” announced Zorg eagerly. “We’ve translated it, and there’s no doubt about our results. Apparently the Earthlings
are angry and do not want our help anymore.”
Borak was astounded. “Are you sure?” he asked those gathered. They all nodded gravely.
“There are signs everywhere,” Spurk explained. “The ongoing protests in several major countries, the Occupy movement, the wars, even our source
ATS is buzzing with the phrase. It’s practically universal. Apparently the Earthlings understand December is the time for transition, and they
don’t want to change. Hence the message.”
Borak frowned, lost in thought. After several minutes he sighed and pushed back from the table. “If that is their choice, then we must honor it.
They are sentient, after all, and entitled to make their own destiny.” He ignored the grumbles of dissent and turned to Zorg. “Tell the engine
room we’re going back home,” he said.
“But the asteroid, and the planetary axis tilt, and the changing weather patterns, and…”
Borak interrupted him harshly. “It’s what they want,” he said. “Never fear, Zorg,” he said, more gently. Those that survive will be in
As the great ship turned, Borak solemnly saluted the tiny blue planet in the window. “Good luck,” he whispered, and then the speck was gone.