On the Wings of Hope : Prose

Based on the above-stated fragment from the report of a research democratic flotilla of space bombers of strategic tasks K52, I order to perform technological militaristic ownership in conformity with Makristan’s strategy by the following means:

1.        Soft orbital bombardments of strategic communication objects of the enemy by using of thermonuclear arms and zero-particles generators.

2.        Capture of the detected central settlement by assault groups of space infantrymen of K52 flotilla.

3.        Deployment of the system of diplomatic and medical aid to the natives, who have suffered from "act of nature". Perform parallel ownership and control over leading Liberium mines along with deployment of military bases in their vicinities.

4.        Maintenance of military-diplomatic control during the three-year period of Liberium’s mining.

The order is to carry out immediately at reception. The report on the done work is expected in 5 planetary days.

P.S.

It’s a question of strategic importance, G., any regret and uncertainty will become a potential hindrance, which contradicts with the high mission of our great Empire.

And may the Maker be with us !

28.09.2010

Plant louse

The Plant Louse gradually and unstoppably crept downhill a mountain.

The wind was blowing into her face, howling and as if begging to stop, the sun was mercilessly scorching her back, which has already become covered in scabs, here and there all of a sudden some holes-hollows of unknown origin were popping up. But she confidently continued her journey downwards – for there on the lowland, as it seemed, a paradise of eternal and lazy pleasure has been awaiting her. Her impetuous mind drove and pushed her forward – there, to the undiscovered downhill distances – and, methodically moving her legs, she obeyed her master and lord remorselessly.

Recently the Louse has dined with her own relative – dead, of course, - which she has found in a pool of blood, already warmed up by the scorching sun. Her comrade-in-arms by the absence of reason has been probably dying in agony, - some of his legs have been dead-burnt by a star and their ashes have already been swept by a wind, and some green viscous poisonous substance of inconceivable for the Louse nature has been flowing from his stomach. That’s why the Louse has disdained a substance – for only goodness knows, what lurks there, inside them, Louses, right ? – but semi blind eyes and some poor excuses of ears have appeared to be rather appetizing, as well as the remnants of brain, still not totally decayed. The Louse, probably, would not even touch the remains of her colleague, if not for that painful hunger, which has been torturing her during last days of a journey There. The Louse had not a slightest idea of why this unstoppable blood lust has suddenly arisen in her, but it has been growing and strengthening with each passing day. Truly hard is the burden of the chosen ones, trying to reach the true paradise, indeed.

It seemed, that very little efforts were required for now. Certainly, the Louse couldn’t view all the horizon of her path – only a small piece of it, still visible for her eternally bent head and weak-sighted eyes – but, nevertheless, it appeared to her that the paradise is almost there, just few more steps and then, finally …

From time to time the Louse dreamt of wings. Of those true wings, possessed by flying heavenly giants, whose shades she sometimes saw on the ground. Plant louses called those ones as Angels – Messengers of Heavens. Indeed, they had the possibility to behold their shades, their pity reflection only – but even this sight sometimes bewitched their poor excuses of souls … The Louse did never gazed into the Heavens – was simply incapable to do so soul-genetically, so to speak. Initially her relatives were terrified of these heavenly ambassadors, believing that they feed on them, Plant Louses, and can devour them, - but, as multi-thousand-year practice has shown, plant louses did not interest them, - were too tiny, probably… The Louse thirsted to fly – just simply stand up and soar to heavenly heights, to see all her way, to say so, from bird’s flight perspective. Once upon a time the Louse overheard with the edge of her semi-bitten off ear, that their ancient ancestors have had some semblance of tiny wings – and they even could fly up low from time to time, - as though in semi-jumps – but after that something has changed in their organisms, was broken – and since that times only rudiments of those former wings were left. And thus entire race of plant louses have forgotten how’s that – to fly …