Sci-Fi Short Story
Eviction III
It’s Just Us
Bolon read the report. Those stupid humans!
His face turned red. His knuckles turned white as his fists clenched in tight balls. He was so angry — he just wanted to KILL something. Fortunately, this interminable war gave him ample opportunities.
He pushed the button.
His swarm of hunter-killer drones was unleashed and descended upon the enemy world below. He took joy in switching the first-person view from drone to drone — watching his adversaries get blown up, dismembered, disintegrated, and maimed. It never got old. The drones were ruthless, just like him.
The carnage distracted him from the latest progress report he’d just received from Earth. The humans had around fifty years remaining to complete their evacuation of the planet — Bolon had given them the eviction notice in 2023. Initially, they seemed to make good progress, but now after three hundred and fifty years, Bolon could see there was no way the entire population would be gone. The elites had created paradises for themselves off-world while squeezing every last bit of value from the masses they would leave behind.
It wasn’t the elites’ behaviour that angered him so much. It was the damage they continued to wreak on his beautiful Earth. Plus, making the stranded human population his problem meant he’d need to get a professional pest exterminator — man, those guys are not cheap!
Safe in his silver battle cruiser, orbiting the enemy’s planet, his attention turned back to the bloody progress of his killer drones. They had reached an impasse at the planetary capital. Bolon sighed as he clicked another button — this was his favourite weapon of mass destruction. A small object descended from his ship, making a beeline for the capital where the last hundred million of the enemy population had sought refuge. The flash was brilliant, like a thousand supernovas going off simultaneously. But the best part was watching the shockwave propagate and disrupt the planetary atmosphere. Everyone down there was doomed, but it would take them hours to realise.
Bolon loved his work.
“Target eliminated,” he reported to HQ, adding, “I’m heading back to base — I need to restock my ammunition.”
A voice from the communication link replied, “Good shooting — God of War. Ha ha ha.” Everyone continued to rib him about his fabled paradise planet and how he acquired it. He wouldn’t need to endure that much longer. He was coming up for an honourable discharge and planned to spend his retirement swimming, hunting and enjoying his beautiful blue world. Those humans! The memory of the report came flooding back, souring his mood. But just as suddenly, he broke into a big smile as an idea occurred to him.
“Is that the local council for sector D-19-X56–004? Oh, good. I own a planet in your sector. I leased it to some humans while I was away at the front. Unfortunately, I had to evict them as they breached the agreement. Yes, the agreement is lodged with your office.” He waited as the council staff looked up the details. Then Bolon continued, “Look, I need some help. I’m stuck at the front, and my tenants are not leaving. Is that something the council can assist me with — as a local ratepayer and a war veteran?” He listened to the answer and added, “Oh, that’s wonderful, and is that a free service?” After hearing the answer, he replied, “Fantastic!”
And with that, Bolon thought the Galactic government bureaucracy would take care of everything. Unfortunately, he had unleashed forces far more significant than any red button he could ever push inside his cockpit. But he would only find out about that much later.
The silver craft descended from the sky — Lord Bolon — arriving one year ahead of schedule.
There was immediate panic as the entire population knew he intended to wipe out everyone on Earth. They had squandered the time he had given them to leave, and now people were resigned to their fate.
A large crowd had gathered in the field where the silver ship was preparing to land. It was a few hundred metres from the bronze statue of Lord Bolon that commemorated his last visit almost four hundred years earlier. All present knew that they would likely be dead within a few minutes, but each had a morbid interest in looking their murderer in the eye before the end.
The low hum of the spaceship eventually subsided to nothing as the landing legs dug more deeply into the ground under its weight. The crowd drew into a tight ring surrounding the vehicle in expectation of its deadly passenger’s disembarkation. The staircase lowered forebodingly from the belly of the craft, and a shadowy figure soon reached the bottom. The crowd held their breath and braced for imminent death at the hands of Lord Bolon. He stepped off and emerged into the sunlight.
A gasp erupted from the crowd.
There, before them, stood a beautiful blond lady. She wore a two-piece pinstripe suit and shiny black stilettos and carried a black leather briefcase in her right hand. She blinked as she scanned the crowd — her eyes adjusting to the bright morning sunshine. A murmur ran through the gathered multitude, finally building to a crescendo — “Are you another god?”
The lady spoke loudly to the crowd for the first time, “No! I am no god. I’m something FAR more fearsome…”
“I AM A GALACTIC LAWYER!”
Jess X’ur stood behind the speaker’s rostrum in the UN General Assembly. Some of the seats in the enormous auditorium were vacant. Many countries’ political leadership and ruling elites fled the Earth last year. Only those who sincerely cared about their people remained. Many still hoped for a miracle and that the people of Earth could somehow be spared. This speech by an unknown alien was big news, and the global services were broadcasting it live.
Jess cleared her throat and began her speech, “People of Earth. Greetings! I am Jess X’ur, your court-appointed Galactic lawyer. I have been working with your planet’s assigned caseworker for forty years to get your unjust tenancy contract rescinded. Your species has lived under an illegal agreement for the last five and a half thousand years. But now I am pleased to announce that the Galactic courts have ruled in your favour. Your unjust contract with Bolon Yokte K’u, a.k.a. the god of creation and war, is officially null and void! I have here,” she said, waiving a document, “the deed to planet Earth. A true representative of the entire population needs to sign it to end humanity’s nightmare!”
There was thunderous applause within the UN General Assembly. There were parties in the streets around the world, as the entire human race could breathe a collective sigh of relief.
The UN Secretary-General approached the rostrum where Jess stood, shook her hand, and embraced her warmly. With a great flourish, he signed the document.
The Earth was FREE!
Jess whispered to the UN Secretary-General, “I have a few other documents you need to sign, too — the deeds for Mars and all other satellites in your solar system you applied for in 2023.”
The World leader looked at Jess and asked, “How did this happen? Why did you save us?” as he completed the signing formalities.
Jess laughed, “Well, it’s all rather embarrassing. You see, the way Bolon had lodged the documents seemed all perfectly legal. The council accepts video signatory ceremonies temporarily but needs personal agreements for transactions of planetary proportions. We only realised that all the formalities were not completed when Bolon applied for council assistance with your eviction. So, a council caseworker was assigned to chase up these loose ends. After no representative from Earth responded to any of the Galactic Court summons, we realised that the Earth was a pre-contactee status world. Why else wouldn’t you attend the court in Alpha Centauri — especially since it’s so close — just a few light years away from you? I was appointed by the court to look after your interests.” The Secretary-General was nodding and looking intently at Jess.
“Well, after digging out your contract documents and the council space survey records of this sector, it was clear that the tenancy agreement was very unfair. My major problem, ultimately, was getting your case in front of the court in time — you think the law moves slowly down here — well, it’s positively glacial up there! Luckily, the judge’s secretary is a girlfriend of mine from school. She pulled a few strings, and here we are — happily ever after! By the way, Bolon is facing legal action from the council for forgery and making false declarations. I also got the judge to issue a protective order against Bolon — so you won’t see him anywhere near here ever again.”
The Secretary-General was nodding and looking at the deeds for Mars and the moons on the table in front of him. “Did you say the council can assist with evictions?” He asked. Jess nodded. Then he inquired, “What about squatters?”
Jess nodded vigorously, “The local council is especially harsh on anyone who stays illegally without the owner’s permission. As your lawyer, I can get the ball rolling on that process immediately.”
He smiled as he thought of all the leaders and elites who had stolen, cheated, and abandoned everyone to a deadly fate here on Earth while they cavorted — safe and sound — on the many Earth bases established across the solar system. “Would you be so kind?” He smiled at Jess, “I understand we have criminal squatters out there who desperately need some Galactic justice!”
Jess closed her briefcase and prepared to leave, “Certainly, Sir. I will get on to your squatter problem right away! I’ll be in touch shortly.”
The Secretary-General smiled and thought, “Who said the meek couldn’t inherit the Earth?”
This is Part 3 of a 3-Part story. You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
Copyright ©2023 by Andrew Dart. All Rights Reserved.
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