Unacknowledged and Ignored
The vivisection is complete when all of the human’s innards are placed into jars and stored away in the freezer unit in the ship’s underbelly. The beings saved a small section of the human’s skin for cataloging purposes and consumed the rest by slathering it in their digestive slime to liquify it so it could be absorbed through their dermis like all the spilled blood, as it’s rich in nutrients their cyberbiological spacefaring bodies require to function. With the job done – well, done well enough for government work, anyway – they leave the operating room.
Inside the transit room, much smaller than the operating room which takes up the majority of the ship’s interior, one of the beings primes the ship’s self-cleaning mechanism by pressing a sole red button sticking out of the wall, then joins the other in its stasis chamber, a deep coffin-like device standing from floor to ceiling with a thick convex glass lid. As they fall into a deep hibernation, the spacecraft autonomously rises up through the clouds and exits Earth’s atmosphere, leaving only a thin streak of distorted space behind it.
Back in a laboratory on their home planet, two blue-skinned humanoid beings wake up simultaneously. They climb out of their link beds and stand, keeping still for a moment as their minds get used to inhabiting their real bodies again.
“So… humans,” one says groggily to the other as he wipes the crust out of his eyes. Linking up always makes his eyes crusty. It only happens to him, too; never to his partner, and never when he sleeps. Only when he links. So aggravating.
“Yeap. Oh well. I guess not every planet in the Universe can be a winner. Did you catch that one bit about that was a private thought, you had no business reading it?”
“Yeah, that was…” He shakes his head. “That was just sad.”
“Forreal. I will never understand why the serprolisks like the place so much. Sure, the majority of the planet is covered in water, but it’s also inhabited by the single most unlikable lifeform to ever evolve, if that one is any indication of the rest of them. Total deal breaker, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I feel you. Thank goodness we have the cybos, imagine if we had to go there ourselves?” He imagines it himself, then shudders at the thought. “They couldn’t pay me enough.”
“As if they pay us enough for this.” The beings share a laugh. “All right, well, at least it’s over. You wanna do the writeup? I did the last one.”
One being approaches the starmap as the other breaks out the logbook and writes the following into the inch’s worth of blank space at the bottom of the current page:
Dominant Lifeform: Hairless ape – “Human”
Observations: Further research unnecessary for now. Planet best left ignored, not worth contacting at the present time.
The being turns over a new page and slides the pen into the spiral binding, then sets the logbook back down on the little table between the link beds. “So, where are we headed next?”
The being browsing the starmap smiles to herself. She pinches the screen, zooming out until the Milky Way Galaxy is nothing but a pale white dot, a speck of dust lost among the greater cosmos of the infinite Universe.
“Anywhere but there.”
Hello Commons, this has been the last subchapter of the first story from Convenient Incidents, an anthology of fifteen interconnected short stories which revolve around a man by the name of Hilter Odolf Williamson.
Convenient Incidents is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.
Convenient Incidents is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
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Be well Commons~