Autumn 2020

Part 3: Birds

Kevin Doole, staff

Previously in Autumn 2020:

Beutra, a mild-mannered young man, receives an assignment to go to the planet Earth where he will liaison with officials in an attempt to better integrate the planet into the galactic community. But on his way there, the Earth is destroyed!!

“A monarch butterfly!” Matthew was holding up a jar containing a butterfly perched upon a twig. After a moment of awkward anticlimax he added: “It’s female.”

“Yes. Well, really. I mean, that’s nothing too special, is it?” asked Vlad.

“It’s . . . it’s a start, I thought. It’s a good building block. It’s a block.”

“Listen to me, you jackass. I want birds. I wanted birds before and I still want them now. Never did I ever even start to consider butterflies.”

“Yes, sir.” Matthew was disappointed at the reaction, though not surprised.

“And none of that holographic, animatronics, second-rate crap. The real thing. Do you understand the importance of this task? Oh please, tell me you do.”

“I think I do.” Matthew realized he was being scolded and tried his best to not play along.

“Listen. I had already amassed unimagined power before the world ended, and it wasn’t by screwing around with puny insects. You need symbols to be powerful. Symbols of power, I mean.” He paused to light a cigarette and noticed a Science Bites magazine on the table in front of him. “Look at this,” he said. “Here, this magazine quotes me saying that ‘art is the new science.’ I don’t even think that really means anything, but they quote me. Another quote of mine,” he paused to drag on the cigarette, “I am ‘spokesperson for the art world.’ It was quoted and because I said it, because I’m the most influential art critic,” he turned to his assistant “in the galaxy,” now back to Matthew, “People take it as fact. It sounds official, so people think I am literally the spokesperson for the art world. And you know what?”

Matthew was waiting for the dramatic rhetorical pause to deflate when he realized that Vlad was waiting for a response. “What?”

“They might as well call me the minister of self-fulfilling prophecies. Whatever I say becomes truth. If I say argyle is in, argyle is in. If I say Madonna is hot again, she’s hot again. If I say monarch butterflies are amazing, then they are. But I need to choose a more powerful symbol, because people equate the symbol with me. You see, dear Matthew, this is our chance to take control. Rather than continue having power over culture, we will have real power over manpower and resources. Complete power to do anything we feel. Now, do you get me?”

“I suppose,” replied Matthew, blasé. He paused to see if he had managed to chisel a notch from Vlad’s self-satisfied smirk. A slight twitch was enough to fuel a continued fury of passive aggression. “But wouldn’t you think that whether people agree with you or not, that they will require more than the promise of birds to bestow upon you the royal jewels, or whatever it is you’re after?”

“There are no royal jewels, Matthew. They will in me realize a leader that can grant hope. They will look to me for direction in life. It will result in the fulfillment of any dreams any of us could ever have.”

“Yes, well. So if you were to wish for royal jewels, they would,” he paused to clear his throat, “bestow them upon you?”

“If I so wished, they would.”

“And how will birds alert them to your, er, natural leadership skills?”

“Helloooo!” Vlad sang. “Ever see the colonial flag? Ever seen an eagle on the colonial flag? Hmm?” In a strange way, Vlad’s argument was beginning to make sense to Matthew. As he looked down at the butterfly and eventually placed it on a nearby ledge, an idea slowly took shape.

“So, when you say birds you’re, like, saying you want an eagle, right?’

“Matthew, my dear, if you can get an eagle I will love you forever, but just do your best.”

“I’ll get you your eagle,” said Matthew shrewdly, adding “By next year, on that colonial flag, there will still be an eagle, but it will be in a cage marked by your crest.”

Not far away Beutra was receiving a text-flash from his pal Steve:

“Beutra, didn’t I tell you not to go to Earth? It’s not like you to listen to a word I say, but nonetheless, I told you. Though, my notebooks of research on the subject seem to be trying to tell me something and, so long as the marks I have over the years scrawled in them remain steady and pregnant, there is in this catastrophe a wonderful opportunity. I gather we are meant to take advantage of the waiting riches on behalf of the entire galaxy. Wait for me on moonbase 2, Beutra. I will be there in two days.

-Steve

p.s. I heard they’ve tethered down the moon so it doesn’t go floating off into the beyond. Harnessed it is, tighter far than a harpooned whale; this does not bode well for the humans.”