Star s*x-2
584 Words
That night, Team Earth brainstormed in the cramped galley of their little spaceship, the Diogenes. They had only one day left of the Worlds' Fair, one day in which to make a deal to save humanity.
"Let's go over it again." Strayhorn tipped his chair back and propped the side of his leg against the edge of the round table. "What have we offered so far?"
Mahalia swallowed some coffee and lowered her mug. "Mineral wealth. Natural resources."
"Plant and animal specimens," said Dinah.
"A catalogue of genomes for life on Earth," said Blakey.
"What else?" said Strayhorn.
Dinah nibbled a chocolate chip cookie, then waved it at Strayhorn. "Food stocks. Pharmaceuticals."
Strayhorn nodded. "A database of all human knowledge."
"Strategic military rights," said Mahalia.
"Nuclear and biological weapons," said Blakey.
"Slaves." Dinah was exaggerating, but only a little; in desperation, they'd come up with an indentured servant scheme, offering a human workforce for offworld projects in return for Earth's salvation.
Even that extreme proposal hadn't drawn any interest from the oblivious aliens.
Strayhorn checked a list on a pad of paper in his lap. "That's everything, all right." He chucked the pad on the table and sighed. "So what else do we have to offer?"
Blakey laughed and slapped the table. "Absolutely nothing!"
"Heavy says otherwise," said Strayhorn.
"Right!" Blakey leaped to his feet. "And that asshole would never steer us wrong!"
"One more day." Strayhorn's quiet, steady voice locked in everyone's attention with high intensity. "That's all the time we have to make a deal. So let's think, people."
"We're like amoebas to them." Blakey's face was flushed. "Like dust mites. We've got nothing they want!"
"All right, all right." Mahalia scrubbed her fingers through her short, curly hair. "What haven't we offered so far?"
"Souls!" said Blakey. "We haven't offered them our souls yet!"
Mahalia grinned. "Careful. They might actually want those."
"Then I say let's sell them," said Blakey.
"But we can't prove they exist," said Dinah.
"All the better!" Blakey clapped his hands. "I say let's do whatever it takes to save Earth!"
Dinah looked across the table and caught Strayhorn's gaze. In the long trip out from Earth, she'd become addicted to that gaze. At moments like this, she felt like she would do anything to hold it, to keep it, to please him.
Strayhorn was a strong man, a good man, a leader. He wore a sense of mystery like a dark cloak, binding all his secrets in shadows deep inside. How could she ever hope to get at them?
"Wait." Dinah felt all eyes slide to meet her, but she didn't break Strayhorn's gaze. "Maybe you're onto something, Ben."
"Great!" Blakey rubbed his hands together. "Tell me about it!"
"What about imagination?" said Dinah.
Mahalia frowned. "How can we sell imagination?"
"Not imagination itself," said Dinah. "I mean we offer to sell something imaginary."
"Ah." Strayhorn nodded. "You mean lie."
Dinah shrugged. "More like exaggerate."
Blakey smacked her on the back. "You are such a con artist!"
"Could be dangerous," said Strayhorn. "All these aliens are more technologically advanced than we are. If we piss them off, they could wipe out humanity instead of saving it."
"We'll have to play it just right," said Dinah. "Keep them happy. Make them think they're getting what we promised."
"If we can even get them interested," said Mahalia.
"Right." Dinah searched Strayhorn's eyes for some sign of approval. At first, they were just as flat, gray, and inscrutable as always.
Then, she saw the light.
"Okay," said Strayhorn. "Let's see if we can make this work."
And Dinah's heart danced like a child in her chest.
- Writer
