'A Vacation on Earth' by
Matthew T. Summers
Time Stamp : 42hours, 32days, 2 years since departure
Cryosleep leaves a lot to be desired. Through ice-encrusted eyes I saw my first glimpse of the world named “E-Arth.” Such an odd name, though I suppose that can’t be helped, as it was named by its inhabitants. Galactic names are *SO* much easier to understand, but since the creatures of this ball of rock haven’t joined the galactic community, it is highly doubtful they know much about proper names and such.
Had my nutrients this morning, flavored with just a hint of a spice taken from the surface of the planet I’m visiting. The travel guide said that it would help prepare me for some of the unique tastes to be found on this rustic travel.
Rustic, he said. Looking at the brochure, it looks more backward than a prison colony. But, as my life partner had insisted, I had decided to visit this “E-Arth” and see what the simple life was about.
Time Stamp : 1hour, 33days, 2 years since departure
The residents appear to fear me. This is strange, as I was under the impression from the brochure that they *LIKED* large, shiny, metallic objects, since so many of them reside inside similar structures. True, those structures are square or rectangular in shape, and rarely fly like my own does, but I digress.
After a few hours of what appeared to be a mass panic, some of the inhabitants arrived and began to use some form of low-yield impact weaponry. My silvery skin apparently was designed of stronger stuff, because the most that happened was that I felt some slight impacts and a bit of a tickling sensation.
Then, some larger form of mobile weaponry appeared, and I decided that, perhaps, it would be better if I visited in some part of the planet that had decidedly less of this metallic housing. Perhaps there, the residents wouldn’t be as amassed as here, and hopefully less prone to panic.
Time Stamp : 14hours, 33days, 2 years since departure
Much, much, much better. Have arrived at what appears to be a growing facility for various plants of indeterminate function. Vast fields of growths surround my ship, and I have only seen one of the bipedal inhabitants around. The resident fled at the sight of me, so perhaps their fear is more of what they are not familiar with.
No matter. I have found other creatures here, of a less intelligent sort than the residents, who do not seem to mind my presence at all. One of them even allowed me to capture an image of my visit, for which I am very grateful. The creature did not respond, however, to my offer of a visit to the stars; perhaps she could not understand me.
Within a few hours, however, metallic aviation-based machinery began to fly overhead, and I felt that it might be time for me to visit another location on this “E-Arth.”
Time Stamp : 3hours, 35days, 2 years since departure
I have had enough. This vacation has proven to me quite a few things, the first and foremost of which is such:
The inhabitants of “E-Arth” should *NEVER* be allowed access into the galactic community. Under any circumstance at all. Never. I will fight any request with all of my being.
I have been pursued for days on end, and have had no time at all to rest. Every time my ship comes down for a landing, the inhabitants run away in fear, and soon their mechanical weaponry approaches, and I am forced to leave once again.
“Rustic” indeed. I shall have to have words with my travel agent when I return home. If this is his definition of “rustic”, I would absolutely love to see his definition of “primitive.”
The only good thing I can say is that the four-legged creatures at the growing facility were the only ones that accepted me. If they were to approach the community for access, I would gladly allow them in with nary a second thought. *THEY* at least could see beyond the silvery visage to the true heart beneath.
Some vacation this turned out to be.