What a lot of humans do not know is that Solitaritans move in small packs, and have vegetarian diets. Most Solitaritans didn’t make it past the age of forty solar cycles before their body broke down in a process called “The final cycle”. As a result of this, when most children reached the age of around fourteen, their parents would be considered to be of senior age.
Left Behind
“This planet is stupid. Look at this,” Johnny pointed at the map that had been included in the complimentary ‘Welcome to E-Arth’ gift bag that they had been given as part of the inaugural safari trip. “This makes no sense at all. These stupid Terrans; how could it possibly be 8:00 a.m. here and also midnight somewhere else? AT THE SAME TIME?! How have they not driven themselves into extinction yet?”
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Carl interjected in an attempt to keep him from getting too wound up. “They have these primitive vehicles that allow them to travel between them temporally. I watched a series of documentaries on it, ‘To From the Present F, FF, and FFF,’ or some other ridiculous name.”
“Time zones. Yes,” piped in Pat over the monotonous droning of the safari guide, Guidatron M8203.01B. “Different areas are locked into specific times, so even though it’s 8:00 a.m. here in Lon Don, it’s yesterday in Lost Angles; time travel, duh!”
“Los. Angeles,” hissed Freddy.
“Don’t be ridiculous, there is absolutely no way that a place would be given such an absurd name as Los Angeles. Neither of those are real words, and even primitive cultures like the Terrans aren’t backwards enough to use nonsense words as place names,” Pat smirked at the obvious ignorance of her youngest child.
“It is too a word, from a language called ‘Span-gah-lease.’ E-Arth used to have multiple languages that were used in different places,” Freddy glared at her mother, frustrated at her mother’s insipid and shallow understanding of alien culture, like most of the other Solaritian passengers on the ‘Safari.’
“Oh, dear, that’s probably the dumbest thing that I’ve ever heard. We really should have gotten you a tutor,” came the flippant reply from her mother.
“Disembark, Disembark, Disembark. The ship has landed at Galactic Landing Pad 4 Alpha 3, E-Arth code Lon Don, UK,” blared through the speakers attached to the top of Guidatron M8203.01B as the Solaritian tourists collected their luggage and headed towards the hatch. “The current local time is 8:05 a.m., June 6. A kind reminder that the return journey to Solaris will begin at midnight, June 20. Please make sure to not leave any personal items on board. Passengers with scheduled guided tours, please exit via Airlock hatch two. Passengers on self-guided tours, please use Airlock hatch one. Enjoy your stay, thank you for joining our inaugural E-Arth safari.”
“I heard Jason, the teen mayor, lives here,” said Pat as she walked towards Airlock Hatch one.
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“That’s why we’ve come here?” asked Freddy, her eleven year-old daughter.
The aliens, Pat and Carl, along with their children, Freddy and Johnny, were on a once in a lifetime trip to E-Arth, what the planet Solaris were calling the E-Arth safari. They hadn’t told their offspring yet, but this was probably going to be the last trip that they all took together. They were nearing their fortieth anniversary of their births, Pat in two Terran months and Carl in almost three, and her mortality loomed over her like a cloud of Terran broccoli flatulence, thick, rank, and oppressive.
“Your poor uncle Brandon, still living in his parents’ basement. I heard he never got over his ex. How embarrassing,” Pat whispered to Johnny.
The ultimate shame among their people was returning to one’s ancestral home as an adult.
“I heard that the Terrans on Earth are trying to repopulate their planet.”
“What?!”
“Yeah,” continued Carl, “The Terrans are about to go extinct.”
“Yeah, quipped Pat. “That guy Elon Musk had completely destroyed the ecology in the year 2025, when he became ‘first buddy’ of a country called Amer-Ica, where we’re landing today.”
“Ugh,” harrumphed Freddy. “No. We’re landing in the UK. Did you even bother to look at the map? Also, what?”
“Well, to be fair, they were never very smart when it came to procreation,” Carl droned on sanctimoniously. “Apparently, when our science team first came across their digital information database, there were billions of instructional videos to teach them how to do it. How dumb can they be, even animals know how to reproduce. One video might make sense, but billions?! No… maybe they deserve to go extinct if they’re that stupid.”
As they made their way towards the hatch that led to the exit, Pat pondered at the absurdity that had become her life ever since she had “won” the safari tickets. “Won” being a bit of a subjective term; the Supreme Ruling Body of Solaris had awarded it’s senior research team members closest to ‘the final cycle’ an all-expense-inclusive trip to E-Arth for themselves an their families as a reward for discovering extraterrestrial life. Never a very social being in the first place, the near constant barrage of interviews, secret photographs taken of her and the family, celebrity status, and overall ‘royal treatment’ pushed her so far down the hole towards the introvert end of the social spectrum that she almost didn’t even want to go on the trip. In the end though, she, and Carl, decided that it would be better for the kids if they spent time together before their ‘Final Cycle.’ What better way to do that than a safari; it was set up like a luxury cruise, and seemed to be playing some sort of sweet treacly tune that made people nod their heads, “Hit me baby, one more time…”
“This music,” whined Freddy, Johnny’s younger sister, “It’s making my tooth ache.” Her parents did not say anything, rolling their eyes at her ungratefulness
It wasn’t everywhere that the tunes from all genres had been melded to create a super computer of music that everyone was able to enjoy, that was accessible at one touch of a button from anywhere, walking, talking, running, going to school.
“Art,” mumbled Johnny and pointed. They looked up to see what in the golden age of the Earth days would have been its best painter, David Hockney, and the painting that they saw was the swimming pool series.
Banners were hung across the hallway as they entered into the building.
“What an amazing thing to greet a friend from afar. Welcome to Earth, alien visitors,” Pam read out loud to her children as they walked under them. “Wow… they must truly be dumb; we’re not the aliens, they are. And they don’t even know how to spell their planet name correctly.”