The Alien's Guide to Conquering Earth

Rule 2: Listen to the Humans

But for now, I shall focus on Earth. We have no way of talking to those on Home until we set up camp and establish a connection. I am extremely excited. Finally, my chance to make a difference in the universe has arrived.

Log Date: 20-1-68341

It did not go well.

Let me elaborate. We touched down near the original site of New York City. The humans definitely were not pleased. The short one crouched down, put his head between his knees and made a shrill keening noise while the tall one just sort of stood there. I didn't understand, and I still don't. I've walked around New York City, and found it just alright. How anyone could form a sentimental attachment to such a place is honestly beyond me. Finally the short one stood, and stared at me right in all four of my eyes. In a low, seething voice that reeks of rage, he said, "Did you do this?"

I answered, "Of course not, you silly human. I authorized the orders and fired the cannons myself, but it was the blast that caused this, not--" And then he attacked me. I am not even remotely joking.

After we pulled the human off of me and got them both back on the ship, admonished them, ("August, I am very disappointed in you,") reset their oxygen levels and the like, we got to work. But the human incident would prove to be only the start of our problems. One of the compactors broke down, and Caius predicted it would take a few days to fix it. On top of that, our communication hub just deCIDED it wasn't going to work today. So now we're stuck here, with humans that are trying quite hard to kill us (although, honestly? It's kind of cute how they try), and two broken pieces of machinery that our entire species needs to survive. Real fun.

Log Date: 20-2-68341

We woke up this morning with the worst banging echoing in our ears. "I got it," I mumbled, and pulled back the thermocurtain and threw on a tunic. The humans were kicking the walls.

When I pushed aside the crates that led to the acrylic floor, the tall one saw me and gave a soft but unrevealing smile, with an added "Oh, there she is." I descended the steps to the holding cells, and punched in the code. When I finally opened the door, both humans were sitting peacefully on the floor.

The short one began. "We have a proposal. Please sit."

Knowing they could not hurt me in any way, shape, or form, I sat.

"We will make a deal. We will tell you everything you need to know about the human race. We will not hurt you, or make any attempts to do so in the future. But! You need to tell us about your species. The scene at New York told us all we need to know about the future of us humans-- I mean, it's bleak. So, you know, might do us some good to hear about you."

"We pretty much just want to know why you're intent on destroying us," interjected the tall one.

The Global Bureau of Safety would like to remind you that conversing freely with sentient beings such as humans is a terribly bad idea and should never be done.

"...Yeah, okay," I said.

But then I thought about it. And this bargain kept making less sense as I kept thinking about it.

"Wait, hang on," I said, "that seems like a ridiculously high profit on my part. What's the catch? Why would you want to help me?"

The tall one scoffed. "Oh, trust me. I don't want to do anything for you, not after you wrecked our home. But anything to ruin the government? Count me in."

I blinked. "Government? What's wrong about your government?"

At this, the short one (I refuse to use their meaningless names) stood, turned his back, and leaned back, raking his fingers through his yellow... hair? all the while making a guttural animal scream. "Where do I even begin?"

To this, I answered, "The beginning, please."

He spun around, flailing his arms much more dramatically than necessary. "The beginning? Well! Let me just tell you, it's been a really long time since 1776. And I mean like a bajillion lifetimes."

"He means about 750 years," the other one added.

"...Earth years?"

"Yes! Of course. And nearly ninety presidents have taken their toll on our country." The short one sat back down, content to be peaceful for once. "All they do is embezzle the money nowadays. Gone are the political mishaps like scandals and too much money for tea. Now we're lucky if the income taxes go down half a percent from, like, nearly seventy percent year to year. Oh boy, and more than half of that money goes to special interest groups, not actual causes for actual people. If we go to vote to lower the rate, we get scorned. Nothing ever changes--" he uncrossed his legs and kicked the wall-- "and I'm sick of it. And now you've come along and, like, killed everyone on the planet. Yeah, some of them we liked or cared about, but it had evolved into a bloodbath, to be honest. People died. Lots. You can't care about anyone for too long, or they'll get taken away from you, and you'll be broken."

A small glance went through the two of them, both of them flushed and seemingly unwilling to talk more. Finally, the tall one said quietly, "So yeah. We'll help you. You're still kind of horrible for bombing the planet, though."

And, unbelievably touched, I said, "Yeah, I know. Thanks."