A Diamond in the Ruff

Byzanium, a mineral mined on Rigel for
centuries, no longer available, the ore
now depleted from ubiquitous veins
on plateaus, in mountains vast, unable
to power the planet’s defensive RUFF,
(Radiation Ultraviolet Force Field),
leaving said planet vulnerable to
attack from Antares, where war
is way of life, where conquest
of space is a need like light
and heat is for life.

General Baird, long cigar lipped and black
moustache extant, arms folded standing like
a wall, fronting the war room with aides and
subordinates seated and awed, entertaining
all suggestions, ploys, strategies no matter
how far fetched, no matter how outré,
no matter how desperate and long
flung, for the defense of Rigel, for
the protection of its population,
its civilization, its peaceful way
of life, felt his heart flutter and
his moustache twitch and his
cigar straighten as a ballistic
missile when Mason, gray-
haired physicist, face
wrinkled with time,
said diamonds, cut
properly, would
work as well.


30 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
3-27-16