I can still remember when we used to watch the Neighbors fighting amongst themselves. We laughed at how silly they looked. They had plenty of resources in their land, clean water, and good crops. But they were never satisfied. We would nod at each other and turn to look at the Neighbors with a sigh as if to say, ‘Look at these barbarians. Thank goodness WE aren’t like that!’ We were, after all, civilized and educated.
We could have stopped them, I suppose. Or even gone to their lands and helped them when their water turned bitter and their land was made barren. But was that really our job, to save them from themselves? No. We needed to keep our focus on OUR people, on OUR problems.
It wasn’t until we saw them coming that we started to worry.
They were hideous. Too many eyes, too many teeth, and hairless lanky bodies. They made these horrible screeches to communicate that we couldn’t even begin to copy or stand to hear. And they were coming.
There weren’t many of them, true; and those who raced to our lands seemed desperate.
But what if they were lying? What if they would beg for our aid, only to take advantage of us? They were probably lazy. Otherwise, they’d have taken care of things in their home instead of running. They would bring diseases to us, and pests!
Worst of all, what if they were just part of a covert attack force? Oh, I’m sure they’d say all the right things, how they would beg for aid, and tell us tales full of woe. But how could we know if they were telling the truth?
No. It was too much of a risk. They were too different, too alien to mix with our good people. They were likely thieves, layabouts, or murderers. We couldn’t take that chance.
My second pair of hands sweat, the fur becoming damp as I clutched my weapon and narrowed my eye to aim better. When their ship touched down and the doors opened my unit of concerned citizens faced them bravely. Scores of dirty hairless faces with two wide eyes stared at us in fear from inside the vehicle. One of them, taller than the rest, walked towards us.
I shouted at him to turn back and leave our planet, to never return. I don’t think he understood me. He stopped halfway between the line and his ship, speaking in that awful screeching that passes for speech to his people, and extended his arms with something held in them. It was as odd as the human holding it, thin and brittle looking while brightly colored at one end, and we all tensed as he aimed it towards us.
“He’s holding a weapon!”
At my companions' gurgle, we opened fire before he could hurt anyone. The rest of the humans screeched and hurried to close the door of their ship as their apparent leader fell to the ground, dead. The weapon fell with him, rolling away from his two hideous hands. I’ve never seen one like that before, long and green with flimsy circular protrusions at the end in a red color. Maybe the rounded red bits fly off towards your enemies? Whatever it does, we’ll be sure to thoroughly destroy it.
We all breathed easier when their ship took off and drifted further into space. They’d never come back here, we could finally relax. I went back home that night to my offspring and slept soundly. I’d done my duty. They were safe.
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