Mothology: The Invasion
BLOGROLL: The Scourge
24 May 2030 posted by Admin/Alison
I celebrated my fifty-third birthday yesterday. Nine years have gone by. Nine years since I buried Erica. Nine years since Jon and God knows how many other “seniors”, including my parents, have bit the proverbial dust. And they continue to die by scores and multitudes. At least Erica and Jon hadn’t died in vain. They died as valiant heroes of a grassroots movement bent on exposing the most insidious mass treachery in history.
We’d hunkered down that fateful day nine years ago. Thanks to the groundwork already laid by the Jons, Ericas and Dr. Markenhoffs of the world, we had a strong base of willing and concerned people who helped us get the message out. Oh, we were attacked left and right in the beginning. We were under constant attack by controlled media dupes, by Internet servers that bounced our emails and blocked our websites.
But perseverance and sheer numbers worked in our favor. The government was finally forced to acknowledge the presence of the nano-mites. The powerful beam at the Luxor was permanently disabled five years ago. It was much too late by then, but at least it gave humanity a false sense of hope. What had started as an invisible invasion in the continental United States had spread worldwide. It has been universally accepted that the nano-mites are here. And they are here to stay. To date, there is no antibiotic, no antidote, no vaccine, no known way to destroy the little parasites.
The other landmark victory we’d achieved was forcing the government to admit that they had been covertly spraying aerial chemical compounds across the land. Their spin was that it was a pesticide to kill the nano-carriers: the moths. Oddly, the moths didn’t die off. The spray had no effect whatsoever on them and the alien lifeforms. Coincidentally, that was the same year the honey bees began to disappear. Imagine that: Another government ploy gone totally FUBAR. I, however, believed that the pesticide or vaccine being sprayed in our air to combat the nano-mite infestation actually worked. And I equally and as firmly believed that for some unfathomable reason the government stopped spraying it.
I’d extrapolated further on the day I had my epiphany while in the company of Erica and Jon. The day I spied the article in the newspaper on the Social Security deficit. “What if some brain trust in Washington saw this invasion as a ways-and-means to get rid of the baby boomers? If people die before they can collect on Medicare, social security, pensions, and government aid programs, can you imagine the money the Federal government would save? Hell, by the time most people are in their sixties even their kids are too old to collect their parent’s social security benefits!”
Jon shook his head. “The federal government isn’t that stupid—or suicidal for that matter.”
I slapped my hand on the kitchen counter. “Don’t you get it? There IS an antidote or vaccine of some sort or a pesticide that kills the nano-mites! The government has stopped the spraying because they’re keeping the cure for themselves and a select echelon!”
My paranoia-induced hypothesis sounded good that day in my kitchen. And it kept us busy for a year trying to prove it. But as time went by, it became evident that senators, White House leaders, dictators and royalty were dying as well. No one class, it seemed, was immune to the nano-mites. Once it became public knowledge that humanity as a whole had suddenly been given an irrevocable timestamp as to when they would die, absolute hell broke loose. There were frenzied protests and riots. People demanded their governments do something. There was ridiculous talk of blasting off into space and destroying the collective mind behind the invasion.
There was a global increase in psychotic breakdowns and suicides: people couldn’t bear the thought of microscopic, serial-killer entities living uninvited and unwelcome inside their bodies: while holding a personalized self-destruct button to boot. The United States government quickly established free mental health clinics to help ease people into what the marketing geniuses call “Acceptance and Appreciation.” Acceptance of the fact that you are going to die within a prescribed timeline and tips on how to effectively make use of that precious allotted time.
In keeping with the spirit of Erica and Jon, however, I’m not of a mind to accept and appreciate any of this happy crap. Nor am I of a mind to abandon my sons and my future grandchildren. And, if I feel as good at sixty-three as I do now at fifty-three, there ain’t no way in hell I’m going to meekly look forward to having my life arbitrarily taken away from me sometime after my sixty-fourth birthday. There has to be a way to destroy the nano-mites. Some brainiac somewhere, somehow, has got to figure out how to eliminate this scourge from the face of the Earth!
…to be continued…
This short story is a work of fiction. People, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.© “Mothology” 2004 Christine L. McKellar aka C.L. McKellar. All rights reserved. No part of this work of fiction may be translated, reproduced, transmitted or used in any form or format or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright owner.