The year is twenty-two twenty-two in our Earth time.
Two good friends and neighbors, John and Oortiid374
are discussing world events. “Oort, do you believe all will be fine?
You Trakiclons have taken so much wood and always demand more.
Your race has lived in America peacefully for sixty years,
ever since Arrival Day, and we have looked the other way
while your kind harvested all South America’s forests. Our fears
are that all our national forests will be next, even though we may
consider North America sacred land as guaranteed by signed treaty.”
Oortiid flared his gills and filled his four lungs with sweet Earth air.
“John, I admit that bad times are coming. My planet is so needy.
For thousands of years my race has plundered distant worlds with fair
regard for that world’s history. The unbreakable Prime Directive of the
Galactic Federation is no harm must be visited on any planet’s race
that lives in peace and harmony. Violence and plundering can be
condoned only in worlds where such behaviors have been commonplace.
We Trakiclons came to Earth with an approved Hundred-Year Plan
to harvest all the wood from first South America, then from North.
Wood is among the rarest commodities in the universe. Understand
to us it is more precious than gold is on Earth. Yours is only the fourth
world discovered with a supply of wood. We adorn our bodies and domiciles
with wooden objects. Your nation was wise enough to preserve, to conserve
all its remaining forests as national treasures 100 years ago. I have to smile.
Conserving these forests has doomed your civilization, while it will serve
our world well. John, I fear that once the enslaved earthlings left alive in
South America have the wood plantations there well-tended, then
we Trakiclons will migrate north. Your race will get angry, but cannot win
the war to come. With our technological superiority it will seem to be a sin
the way our laser rifles and photon cannons easily slaughter all your
brave soldiers. We will have no remorse. There is a saying “The only good
earthling is a vaporized earthling.” My race considers Mankind little more
than apes -- dirty, primitive. However, out of friendship I really should
confide that I myself see many worthwhile and noble qualities in Man.
But, this war is inevitable, and you must lose. All of the survivors will
be moved to a reservation in the desert southwest, where, if you can
make a life there, you may survive as a race. It’s truly tragic! Still
Mankind has only himself to blame. From the time of Alexander, Caesar,
Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, to the Middle East War, each scar
on history, every act of genocide, enslavement, and torture brought nearer
your fate. My friend, it’s poetic justice…delivered to Man from the stars.”