A pair of escaped criminals help a new generation in their rush to remake their planet |
Planet Perfect Old President Winkford was in a grumpy mood. "I don't like it!" he grouched, "Not one bit." He rubbed his sandpaper chin while looking on with a sour expression. He had gathered his entire cabinet to let off steam. "They only mean to say they've arrived at utopia, sir." Claudio, his chief advisor chimed in, "We should be suppor..." "Horse manure!" shouted Winkford. "I know what this is! It's a gesture of disrespect, that's what! Disrespect for us and their parents, too. Why, this new generation growing up on Planet Mars..." "Planet Perfect, sir." said Claudio. "I say Mars!" From the beginning living on Mars was for only the toughest, bravest, smartest, and frankly, the craziest members of the human race. These exceptional ones worked themselves to death, generation after generation, turning a corpse of a planet into a small, nearly pristine version of earth. It was, by far, the toughest public works project ever sustained. After a thousand years both planets celebrated the birth of a new living planet. Because of the sheer struggle of it, this was the most heroic age that humans ever had. But now, after all these years, the first generation of humans on Mars to thrive without much struggle was all grown up. They cared nothing for the stories of the past which told of the great doings and hardships that made life possible on Mars. They wanted freedom! The new generation was the product of a boom in births unlike any seen before on Mars. To them, the future was all that mattered and they, themselves were the future, or so they believed. This generation changed the name from Planet Mars to Planet Perfect. They saw themselves bringing a new era of perfection without sacrifices and hard work. Winkford's fit over this latest news continued; "That new generation! They think they're smarter and better than those of us who worked so hard to give them the luxury to be such fools! Changing the planet's name, for crying out loud! I ought to change their butts into tomatoes! It's the parents. Their parents are to blame for this. They raised this generation with new techniques, always giving way, never saying, 'NO!' like a parent ought." Winkford changed his voice to a mocking tone; "I want my little boy and girl to know no limits! " He returned to a normal voice; "You heard the nonsense coming from these folks, Claudio. Where'd they get these stupid ideas?" "I'm sure it's not as bad as all that, Mr. President, though I know how silly they sounded with their talk, sometimes. The people over there are experimenting with new ways and assumptions. Give them a chance to try out their new values, whatever they figure out. They're making a new society and are bound to make errors. It will be their errors, anyway." Just then the door to the private conference room burst open and a panting messenger popped his head in. The messenger caught breath and said; "Crisis at the launch center. Several killed. Attackers took over the control center and boarded the rocket. They have been identified as Roguess Rumgun and Jesse Preen. Accomplices took control and launched the ship. Rumgun and Preen have been launched to Mars!" With that done, the messenger withdrew and shut the door. "Oh NO!" cried out Claudio. The messenger opened the door again and stuck his head in one more time. He added; "I mean, Perfect." and with that withdrew his head and slammed the door. Claudio continued; "They're the worst of the worst! We have to go after them." "We can't." answered another cabinet member. "All other ships are either being decommissioned or are in maintenance. And they probably killed our best of the best, so who is to go after them?" Claudio shot up out of his chair and leaned forward, pressing his knuckles upon the table. He ranted; "This is the notorious Rumgun and Preen pair! Mr. President, we have to stop them before they reach Perfect!" President Winkford now was smiling, twiddling his thumbs and looking far off. "Take it easy there, Claudio." the president responded. " What, are you afraid of? That they can't handle a pair like that over in...Perfect?" "Sir, Roguess Rumgun has thrived as a slave trader and as a hired killer. He just chains people up and makes corpses. Jesse Preen is the genius con-artist who nearly caused the world currency collapse." "I know who they are." "You must authorize an emergency ship and the top law-enforcement crew to get them." "I will authorize nothing." answered Winkford, still smiling. Claudio and the others were aghast. "Claudio," said the president, "you are very afraid for this little experiment called Planet Perfect, I can see. You want to protect it, yes. But I say, Perfect has a little trial coming. Let's find out what the name of the planet really is." The people of Planet Perfect had always shared everything. Everyone had always been cared for and caring. No one was lonely or bored. Until recently, everyone had always been hard at work on the planet, so no one had time to be suspicious, spiteful, envious, or haughty. No one was too poor or too rich. The stories from ancient times back on Earth say there was such a golden time once there long, long ago. That might have been a myth. For life up to this moment on Planet Perfect, it had been no myth. Into this realm of virtue and harmony came Jesse Preen and Roguess Rumgun. This notorious pair had hijacked the last supply ship in their daring and bloody escape from Earth. For now it was still, outwardly, harmonious on Perfect. Rumgun and Preen were brushing and shaking ants off of themselves. They landed near a road several miles from Redstock, the planet's biggest city. "What a miserable six months with you and your ants!" whined Preen. "My ants?" returned Rumgun. "Whadd'ya mean?" "Who had to bring their ant-infested lunch bag along? You did! Once we were launched into space we were stuck with them, multiplying the whole way here!" "You know what life on the run is like, boss. You always gotta bring your lunch along." "Idiot! We had food for a six-month journey! Well, that's over with. We're here on Mars and we got to find out what they know about us and what they intend to do with us. Let me do the talking. These folks have no idea about our kind of business. If I can't con them into making us a comfortable home here then I'll shoot myself." "How do you suppose they make money here?" asked Rungum. "Good question. We'll find out." answered Preen. "Right." returned Rumgun. "I'll go grab one, muzzle him and bring him to you. Think up a bunch of questions." "Just hold on a second! We're starting out nice with these folk. Got that?" On the road coming from Redstock they heard voices and the roar of a vehicle. It was a bus load of Martian teenagers whooping and yelling in high, youthful spirits. The bus was being driven way too fast. It careened around the pair walking on the road, tried to do a circle around them, but tipped over and crashed upon its side. There was crying and screaming from inside. "What do you think?" asked Preen. "Shall we help out or shall we ignore it and keep walking?" "Uhhh...let's help 'em out, boss. I'd like to find out what all their craziness was about. Besides, if we get the bus back on its wheels and it runs, we can take over." "Good idea." All of the youngsters crawled out of the windows. Some had cuts and bruises, others had fingers out of joint. Rumgun fixed the fingers and Preen patched the wounds. "So, what are you kids up to?" inquired Preen. "We're getting away from our parents." came the answer. "Is that so?" "Yeah. We stole the bus and took off. We're starting our own city." "Well, you took a little bad turn, I'd say. But I know how to get you what you really want. You don't want to run away. No, no, No! All you need to do is take over from your parents." The teenagers forgot their bruises as they suddenly fixated upon what they were hearing. "I can teach you how to take charge and make your own rules. Don't you want to be in charge and not your parents?" They all gave a shout of assent. "Hey," sneered one of the teenagers, "you look and talk like a couple of guys from Earth." "Is that right?" returned Preen. "Well, we are from there. Let me tell you why we left." They all leaned forward. "To get the same kind of freedom you stole this bus for! We want our independence. How about all of you?" "Yeah!" They shouted. "Alright then, let's get this bus on its wheels. I'll teach you how it is done." Thirty-three days later a political rally was being held in the public square of Redstock. Never had anything like this gone on before. Up on the stage, in front of a great crowd was Jesse Preen, putting the climax on a rousing speech; "THE PAST IS FINALLY PAST! TODAY YOU TAKE CHARGE! TODAY IS FREEDOM! INDEPENDENCE!" The crowd either cheered or hissed. Supporters took to the stage and danced with Preen, then carried him off like a hero. There were many who remained, feeling greatly dismayed. Then, Roguess Rumgun took to the stage and shouted; "I AM SERGEANT RUMGUN FROM EARTH. I CAME TO GATHER YOU WHO ARE DISGUSTED WITH THIS NEW GENERATION. WE MUST FIGHT TO PRESERVE OUR PAST AND SAFEGUARD OUR FUTURE. JOIN ME." The remaining ones gathered around the stage. "DO YOU HATE THE NAME 'PERFECT' AND LOVE THE NAME 'MARS'?" "YES!" They shouted. "ARE YOU SICK AND TIRED OF THE NEW GENERATIONS' DISRESPECT AND DISOBEDIENCE?" "YES!" They shouted, even louder. One-hundred and sixty two days later President Winkford was smelling the flowers in his garden. Claudio was so far off that his shouts for the president's attention were faint squeaks. He was running as fast as he could up to the garden. "Urgent...Mr. Pres..." While Claudio stood in the garden catching his breath Winkford kept smelling the flowers. "Have we heard anything from Planet Perfect, Claudio?" "Yes we have, finally! Jesse Preen sends this." Claudio gave him a messaging device. "And what about Roguess Rumgun? Anything from him?" "No, Mr. President, just Jesse Preen." Winkford watched the complete message and remarked; "Well, well. I wonder if he killed Rumgun. I doubt it. Preen isn't much of a killer. He's no more than a good con man. Rumgun is a soldier and expert at martial arts. Still, he could've tricked him into a death trap somehow." He noticed Claudio giving him an inquisitive look. "Oh, so here's what Jesse Preen sends us: A declaration of independence for Planet Perfect and a demand for 100 barrels of ant poison. He doesn't mention his partner, Roguess Rumgun. Claudio, we need to know more." Another cabinet member ran up to the garden. "Message from Roguess Rumgun on Planet Perfect." "This message says he, Rumgun is now head of his Armed Forces of Planet Mars." relayed Winkford. "He declares his loyalty to us and the maintenance of ties to Planet Earth. He and his recruits are for keeping the name, 'Mars' and against changing it to 'Perfect'. Oh, and he asks us politely for 100 barrels of ant poison. I call a meeting of all cabinet." As soon as his entire cabinet was gathered a messenger popped his head in and said; "Jesse Preen has just declared himself President of the Northern Hemisphere of Planet Perfect." and he shut the door. Claudio jumped up and exclaimed with knuckles pressed upon the table; "This is terrible! We can't send and army to Perfect! We cannot let Perfect go independent, either! What are we to do?" Winkford responded; "We don't have the complete picture quite, yet, Claudio. Just hang on." The messenger returned with another message; "Rumgun has declared himself Generalissimo Rumgun of the Southern Hemisphere and is preparing a declaration of war against the Republic of Northern Hemisphere." "Okay, now we have enough of the picture." said Winkford. "These clowns brought an ant infestation with them and forgot the shut the door of the spaceship when they landed. In the North, Jesse Preen has set up a cult of personality centered on himself, and in the South we have Rumgun and a military junta ready to slaughter all but his select few. Meanwhile, the ants are taking over both North and South." "I want all of you to write a response to this as a committee. Tomorrow morning is the deadline. I adjourn this meeting." The next day President Winkford broadcast this message to Preen; "From one president to another I give you greetings. I know a true leader when I see one, and it is obvious that you are the one Planet Perfect deserves. I give our full support for independence, upon one condition which follows, and am overjoyed at the prospects for a brighter future for your people than humanity has ever known. I congratulate you and salute all the people." "The divisions of the planet into Northern and Southern halves is of concern. Therefore, I have set out this one condition: For the sake of unity Generalissimo Rumgun and you are to have one inauguration ceremony for the two of you. It should be in the street running between each of your headquarters for all the planet to see. All the people of Earth will be watching, too. Let's make it a good ceremony! Oh! I almost forgot to mention that I'm sending Earth's finest wine for the ceremony and 100 gallons of ant poison to each of you, as you each requested. Oh, boy! I am truly excited to see the start of two administrations on your planet. Good night." Then he sent this to Rumgum: "From me to you, greetings. I know a true leader when I see one. I give my full support to you upon one condition: I require that you first meet with Preen in a ceremony of peace. Allow Preen to become President of the Northern Hemisphere, then when his rule fails you shall have many allies in the north to help you take over. For now, there shall be one inauguration ceremony for both of you..." From here the two messages went word for word. On inauguration day, months later, Winkford went playing golf, his favorite game, after politics. Everyone else on both planets was watching the duel inauguration of Preen and Rumgun being broadcast live from the street in central Redstock. After the parades there were numerous, very long speeches about peace and unity. President Preen and Generalissimo Rumgun were each sworn in, and then each drank a toast to the other. More speeches followed on peace and unity, going on into the evening. Then there was a firework display, during which Preen and Rumgun began to twitch. The twitching turned to bodily jerking. The jerking turned to spasms which finally ended with both of them dead on the ground. "Hmm. This looks like symptoms of nerve poison!" exclaimed Claudio. Winkford returned from his golf game. He had a command for Claudio: "Prepare a message device. I have two things to say to our junior planet." An hour later President Winkford's first message arrived; "My message is for the Army of the Southern Hemisphere and it is a simple one: You have lost your leader. I am the only leader among all people of both planets. Therefore, take again that oath you swore to the Generalissimo, only this time swear allegiance to me. Every morning you will see my daily message giving you orders to carry out. Together, with your obedience and loyalty we will restore your planet." Early the next morning Winkford saw the whole army take the oath, swearing their allegiance. Then he sent a message to the planet: "Good evening. In the interest of peace and unity after last night's tragedy, I have taken up the burden of becoming your leader. I have decided that there shall be no more division of your planet, therefore I shall grant each side, North and South a victory. I have decided that the South's plan to go to war with the North will go on ahead as scheduled. This way we can clean up the chaos left by the previous administration in the North, and give the new generation a truly new perspective; that of living under military defeat and martial law. You, in the North who won't study history will learn so much from this." "To the new generation in the North I grant a victory as well. After thinking long and hard upon this I have decided that you are right about changing the name. 'Perfect' should be the name for your planet for three reasons: The name Mars is outdated; the name, Perfect, gives you all an ideal to work for once again; and finally, after seeing the way it all turned out, the name makes me smile." "So, congratulations, Planet Perfect! You have become a real, regular planet like Earth. Oh, I must not forget to mention this: I made a grave mistake in granting the request of each of your former leaders for 100 gallons of ant poison. Do not, I repeat, Do NOT spread any of that around anywhere in your environment. It will only kill the ants for a short time, then they'll come back resistant to the poison, and all of you will end up like Preen and Rumgun. Planet Perfect now has toxic waste that you cannot get rid of. You must contain it forever-if you can. To really take care of the ants we will have to send you a rocket ship full of anteaters and frogs, mosquitoes and many, many other insects that go along with them. The list of pests and their predators that you will need, along with the insects and diseases they carry will keep our respective planets bound together forever." "I pledge to make this war as brief and painless as I can. You will truly find your faith and thank God when it is over with. So, may our mutual love and respect for each other keep us united. Good-bye for now." So, the people of Planet Perfect marched on to war with each other, some in high spirits to be fighting the good fight to restore decency and order, others in pure dread of the whole thing. On they went into battle, a sadder and a wiser folk. |