Post by lee on Dec 1, 2019 18:50:18 GMT
Strange Adventures
Home
By Drivtaan
The Second World War was over, red-blooded American soldiers were coming home to the wives, fiancées, and girlfriends whom they had desperately missed, and in 1946, I was the result of one such homecoming. I was one of the original baby boomers, our generation’s moniker, and the new age into which I was born became the atomic age; we would grow together.
As I went from a crawler to a toddler to a walker to a teenage rebel, it was my fortune to see numerous miracles of science take place--things like television dinners, heart transplants, and the birth of the space program. The TV dinners were for convenience, the transplants were for necessity, and the space program was a response to incursions (or visitations, depending on who you asked) from beyond the stars.
At first, we didn’t realize the strange creatures were from outer space. Most folks thought the monsters that were starting to appear were a result of our abuse of the atoms God designed for use in a specific way…and some of them were. Giant ants appeared in the southwest and threatened to overrun small towns. Rumors spread of giant brain-eating crabs overrunning a Pacific island. See the pattern? Normal creature mutated to monstrous size that overrun the closest occupied strip of land they can find. Like I said, these were our fault, humanity’s, but we dealt with it. We didn’t change our ways, but we dealt with it. When a dinosaur that had been in hibernation beneath the North Atlantic awoke and made it’s way to New York City, we realized that something needed to be done, but the realization still never produced action. Still, our monsters weren’t so bad, not when you began to hear stories of what our former enemy, Japan, was starting to deal with. Giant lizards, moths, turtles, dinosaurs, robots, anything you could imagine, and all imbued with atomic energy. Tokyo rebuilt itself a dozen times. Eventually, some of the first monsters to appear there began to protect the island nation--probably a territorial instinct.
Then, other creatures began to appear, not all of which were giant. Saucers breached Earth’s sovereign skies, some coming in peace (those were rare) while others came seeking to conquer. In most instances, there was conflict. The peaceful aliens pitied us for our warlike ways, while the would-be conquerors were defeated because of our warlike ways. As is the way of war, there were always casualties, whether it was death, physical injury, or emotional trauma. And then there were the abducted.
These were the poor unfortunates who were snatched out of their daily routines by the curious, or vindictive, aliens and taken away never to be seen again. Every Average Joe or Suzie Homemaker had an opinion as to what had happened to them. The generally accepted belief was that the abducted were taken to be studied so that the aliens (and, yes, we tended to think of them as a collective despite their differing appearances) would know our weaknesses the next time they attacked. A minority believed they were taken as a food source for their captors--disgusting, but always a possibility. There were even a few, of which I am one, who believed they were taken to be put on display, living out the rest of their days on exhibition in the equivalent of some alien zoo.
I am an old man, now, older than I have a right to be, and I will probably live to be a great deal older. It’s been so long, I figure that my family and friends are long gone. Of course I miss them, I miss everyone that’s been a part of my home, both here and there. Machines hidden from public view keep my body healthy and mobile, despite the fact that I spend my days on my front porch in a nice, comfortable rocking chair. My only duty, because of my age, is to watch the folks go by and wave. Many of the faces I see I recognize; they return to my block week after week just to check in on me. They have come to understand that I can no longer do the things I once did and rather than discard me, they do their best to make me comfortable.
That’s why you are here, to do the things I can’t. Don’t worry about it too much; life here isn’t that hard. All you’ll be expected to do is cut the grass and take care of the upkeep of our house. The food is good, probably better than what you’re used, and it comes prepared…just don’t ask what it is, because you don’t really want to know. There are a couple rules you need to remember. The first is to never do anything that could be perceived as a threat, not that you could do much anyway. The second is to never leave the shade of the porch when the twin suns are at their zenith; we’re safe here, but you wouldn’t survive if you were in the yard. It really confused them the few times I had to take a broom and sweep up the ashes of some of those who came before you. I dug little holes under the tree and laid their ashes to rest, forever in the shade.
I know you don’t really feel like it today, and they aren’t going to expect a lot out of you, this being your first day here, but you might want to consider doing something. The first batch will be coming through here soon, and if they don’t feel like they are seeing a glimpse of what life is like on Earth, they can get a bit loud.
I know this all seems so strange to you, being nothing more than an attraction in an alien zoo light years from Earth, but you’ll get used to it. Perhaps, in time, if you survive, you’ll realize the same way I had to, for good or bad, this is now your home.
The End
Home
By Drivtaan
The Second World War was over, red-blooded American soldiers were coming home to the wives, fiancées, and girlfriends whom they had desperately missed, and in 1946, I was the result of one such homecoming. I was one of the original baby boomers, our generation’s moniker, and the new age into which I was born became the atomic age; we would grow together.
As I went from a crawler to a toddler to a walker to a teenage rebel, it was my fortune to see numerous miracles of science take place--things like television dinners, heart transplants, and the birth of the space program. The TV dinners were for convenience, the transplants were for necessity, and the space program was a response to incursions (or visitations, depending on who you asked) from beyond the stars.
At first, we didn’t realize the strange creatures were from outer space. Most folks thought the monsters that were starting to appear were a result of our abuse of the atoms God designed for use in a specific way…and some of them were. Giant ants appeared in the southwest and threatened to overrun small towns. Rumors spread of giant brain-eating crabs overrunning a Pacific island. See the pattern? Normal creature mutated to monstrous size that overrun the closest occupied strip of land they can find. Like I said, these were our fault, humanity’s, but we dealt with it. We didn’t change our ways, but we dealt with it. When a dinosaur that had been in hibernation beneath the North Atlantic awoke and made it’s way to New York City, we realized that something needed to be done, but the realization still never produced action. Still, our monsters weren’t so bad, not when you began to hear stories of what our former enemy, Japan, was starting to deal with. Giant lizards, moths, turtles, dinosaurs, robots, anything you could imagine, and all imbued with atomic energy. Tokyo rebuilt itself a dozen times. Eventually, some of the first monsters to appear there began to protect the island nation--probably a territorial instinct.
Then, other creatures began to appear, not all of which were giant. Saucers breached Earth’s sovereign skies, some coming in peace (those were rare) while others came seeking to conquer. In most instances, there was conflict. The peaceful aliens pitied us for our warlike ways, while the would-be conquerors were defeated because of our warlike ways. As is the way of war, there were always casualties, whether it was death, physical injury, or emotional trauma. And then there were the abducted.
These were the poor unfortunates who were snatched out of their daily routines by the curious, or vindictive, aliens and taken away never to be seen again. Every Average Joe or Suzie Homemaker had an opinion as to what had happened to them. The generally accepted belief was that the abducted were taken to be studied so that the aliens (and, yes, we tended to think of them as a collective despite their differing appearances) would know our weaknesses the next time they attacked. A minority believed they were taken as a food source for their captors--disgusting, but always a possibility. There were even a few, of which I am one, who believed they were taken to be put on display, living out the rest of their days on exhibition in the equivalent of some alien zoo.
I am an old man, now, older than I have a right to be, and I will probably live to be a great deal older. It’s been so long, I figure that my family and friends are long gone. Of course I miss them, I miss everyone that’s been a part of my home, both here and there. Machines hidden from public view keep my body healthy and mobile, despite the fact that I spend my days on my front porch in a nice, comfortable rocking chair. My only duty, because of my age, is to watch the folks go by and wave. Many of the faces I see I recognize; they return to my block week after week just to check in on me. They have come to understand that I can no longer do the things I once did and rather than discard me, they do their best to make me comfortable.
That’s why you are here, to do the things I can’t. Don’t worry about it too much; life here isn’t that hard. All you’ll be expected to do is cut the grass and take care of the upkeep of our house. The food is good, probably better than what you’re used, and it comes prepared…just don’t ask what it is, because you don’t really want to know. There are a couple rules you need to remember. The first is to never do anything that could be perceived as a threat, not that you could do much anyway. The second is to never leave the shade of the porch when the twin suns are at their zenith; we’re safe here, but you wouldn’t survive if you were in the yard. It really confused them the few times I had to take a broom and sweep up the ashes of some of those who came before you. I dug little holes under the tree and laid their ashes to rest, forever in the shade.
I know you don’t really feel like it today, and they aren’t going to expect a lot out of you, this being your first day here, but you might want to consider doing something. The first batch will be coming through here soon, and if they don’t feel like they are seeing a glimpse of what life is like on Earth, they can get a bit loud.
I know this all seems so strange to you, being nothing more than an attraction in an alien zoo light years from Earth, but you’ll get used to it. Perhaps, in time, if you survive, you’ll realize the same way I had to, for good or bad, this is now your home.
The End