“The Others” / Memorable Fancies #2655

We fled our dying planet to one we’d just discovered; not perfect, but we didn’t have time to search for a better one.

So here we are and we’re all OK now, pretty much, but the gravity is three times what it was at home, and the surface is populated by a species, we call them the Others, who’d run out of their own resources. Like we had.

So we’re underground, here, hiding from the Others. Mostly, we creep along in tunnels and have trouble breathing.

We cultivate mushrooms with heat from volcanic steam vents – we’re OK if we don’t venture above ground where the Others are waiting for us. And if our seismometers detect nearby digging, we dig the other way. Fast.

Some day, if we’re careful and don’t show ourselves again, they’ll think we’re just legends, not real, not real enough, anyway, to dig for and eat, no matter how hungry they get because they’re ruining their planet so fast. Already, there are many fewer of them than before.

Soon there may be none. And then we will have peace, in this place the Others call

‘Earth.’

>> “books terence kuch” on Amazon or Google will lead you to more writing from a naturally curly mind <<

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