Bad dog

“So, to sum up this meeting. We’re a mistake.” President Chapman frowned. He adjusted his tie, which felt like a leash around his neck, as though it was trying to strangle him.

“I’m afraid so. You might say we left the barn door open. A few million years later and, well … here you are.”

President Chapman found it hard to take the alien diplomat seriously. It was pitch black and made of mist. It drifted around one end of the conference room table where a red porcelain bowl of dandelions sat. The aliens had requested dandelions be provided at meetings being held simultaneously with leaders across the world, while their ship remained in high Earth orbit. Now and then, a pseudopod of mist would flow over the bowl and another dandelion would dissolve, followed by a soft sigh of pleasure.

“And Earth is a rest stop for your people?”

Dissolve

 … sigh

 …
“In a seed shell, yes. Life-bearing planets tend to have similar natural processes, and this world is hardly unique. We planted it with

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as a food source for long, interstellar journeys. It makes a fine place to stop off and replenish our food reserves, get out and stretch our pseudopods, so to speak. Starships can be cramped, especially if we’re travelling with our offspring. They do tend to get annoying after a few light years. Anyway, the plant evolved of course, as things do, but these descendants of it are quite delicious. Saltier. Bit of a crunch in the centre.”

“Dandelions?”

“I’ve been told that’s what you call them.”

Dissolve

 … sigh

 …
“They make a wonderful food source. They grow in every temperate climate and are rich in nutrients. I’m surprised more creatures on this planet do not eat them.”

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“Our conversation is getting sidetracked. We’re here to discuss the preposterous notion that humanity will be removed from Earth. You cannot simply wipe out an entire race of beings.”

“You were never intended to inhabit this world. Your presence, and the mess you’ve made of it, has stifled the development of its own native intelligence. Honestly, we should have intervened sooner. They’re pretty upset, and rightly so, I think.”

The president smacked the table. “For the last time, dolphins are not intelligent enough to rule this planet.”

The mist sighed, this time less in pleasure. “Look, I’m sorry. I know this must be hard for you. But you’re a mistake. A … random accident. A … a …”

“An escaped pet, you said.”

A sound like the snapping of fingers, despite having none. “Precisely. Think of yourselves as like those furry creatures you keep in your homes. The ones with four legs. The ones that crap —”

“— Yes, dogs, I get it.”

“Right, dogs. You wouldn’t let a dog run a planet, would you? When it chews up your furnishings, how do you correct it?”

“Smack it on the nose and say ‘bad dog’.”

“Well, there you go. We’re simply correcting a wayward pet as you would.”

“It’s not the same thing,” the president said through clenched teeth. “Dogs haven’t evolved to create art, or built sewer systems. They haven’t colonized their own solar system.”

“Colonized? Hardly. You’ve visited your local planetoid, and you left trash on it. You’ve got no farther. I know bacteria that have gone farther than your species has and we wouldn’t call them intelligent.”

Dissolve

 … sigh

 …
“Look, if it’s any consolation, you won’t feel a thing. The process is absolutely painless.”

The door behind the mist opened silently. Two men in dark suits entered, carrying a large silver box between them.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to decline your request,” the President said, rising. “We will resist you. Do not underestimate humanity’s capacity to defend its right to exist.”

Dissolve

 … sigh

 …
“It’s so cute you’ve named yourselves after —”

The men turned on the industrial vacuum unit and aimed the nozzle at the mist creature. A roaring whine filled the room as it pulled greedily at the air. With a tattered screech, the misty alien was sucked into the device, along with the remaining dandelions.

When they had it trapped, they closed the vacuum chamber valve and turned it off. “Are you all right, Mr President?” one of them asked.

“I’m fine. And well done.” He opened the briefcase on the table to his right and turned a key. The electronic panel of the nuclear football lit up with a baleful red light. “With any luck, the Russian president got our message and will launch his attack on their ship simultaneously. If not, then the United States will be the one who saves the human race from destruction. May God look down upon us with mercy.”

The mist reconstituted itself next to the empty bowl of dandelions. “I really wanted to do this the kind way and give you time to say goodbye to the planet. Maybe even wish the dolphins luck in their coming great leap. But your behaviour is simply inexcusable.”

“Wait, let’s stop and talk —”

Dissolve

 … sigh

 …

“Bad dog,” the ambassador said to the empty room.