The Consortium

 The Consortium

This morning I hoped everything would be back to normal, but they were still here.

Those unspeakably huge metal spheres still lit the sky, like miniature suns, spreading evenly to the distant horizon. They ‘said’ they came in peace, they ‘said’ they were here to help, but I didn’t call it help when they conscripted my brother to work at the grain farm.

Sure, they had ended starvation, they fed the hungry, but at what cost? Now there were millions more brains that needed to be engaged now that their mouths no longer needed to be fed. Do they plan to feed the whole solar system, now that we know it isn’t as empty as we always thought? Maybe so, maybe so…

I guess it is strange that earthly grains are all the rage- just like any cycle of commerce, it’s all about supply and demand. The other planets demand our wheat, barley and rice, and our overlords promise to supply it, whatever the cost to our freedom. 

The last time I talked to Roger, he said the aliens treated them real nice- all the spirits they can drink, as long as they meet their quotas. What kind of life would that be, slaving in the hot sun, drinking yourself to oblivion? I hoped I would never have to find out.  I wonder what happens if you don’t meet your quota? Even here we hear of workers disappearing on occasion- could that be why?

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss his stupid face. Sure, he used to pick on me, but what are big brothers for? That’s how they toughen you up. Sure, he was kind of a bully, but at least he doesn’t use his fists like dad used to- now there is a man I don’t miss. Always drunk, difficult to understand at the best of times- not too far off from the farm workers, I suppose.

I heard a noise from the sky, and looked to see the nearest ship, almost directly overhead, begin to glow and hum, as a green beam of light shot from the heavens to the empty ground outside my home. Something began to materialize- my brother!

‘Roger!’ I shouted, as he stood staggering before me, shielding the sun with his hand.’

‘Where… wha… shish, ish that you?’

Tears formed in my eyes. ‘Oh brother, I have missed you!’

He shrugged, walking towards me on uneven legs. ‘They said I wash a good worker *hick* and they shent me home for a resht.’

I smile as he approaches the door, which I hold open as he stumbles inside. ‘How long are you home?’

He shrugged. ‘A day? Few days? I dunno.’

‘Well, I’m just happy to see you.’

‘Got anything to drink?’

I nodded emphatically. ‘Coffee? Tea?’

He frowned. ‘I meant a ‘real’ drink- got any whiskey? Tequila?’

My face went cold. ‘You know I don’t keep alcohol here anymore. Since dad died I…’

‘You what, decided to be a huge wimp like mom was?’

‘Don’t you ever talk about mom that way,’ I replied coldly.

‘He scowled. ‘Or what? You gon’ tell on me, like you did when we were kids?’

Well,’ I replied, ‘I see some things never change. Good day.’

Pushing Roger outside, I slammed the door in his face as he fell on his ass, and locked the door with a click. I heard a jingle from my phone as he began to hammer on the door. One new notification- a voice message. Press one to listen. 

Beep.

‘Hello, this is Quidzix Primos, overseer of this quadrant. I wanted to let you know personally, how unimpressed we are with the performance of your brother, Roger Windfield III. 

‘Let me in, you son of a…’

‘Because your family have been such friends to The Consortium, we wish to offer you a choice. Roger always meets his quotas, but he has a seemingly insatiable appetite for liquor, enough so negatively impact our bottom line.’

Bang Bang Bang. ‘What, you shink you can lock me ou’ of my own house?’

I look out the window to see Roger’s face curled with rage and malice, just like dad used to…

‘If you wish to return him to the work farm, please press one, and your family will be charged for his extra expenses. If you wish to proceed with processing, please press two.’

Beep.

‘Thank you for pressing two, the Consortium values your choice as a member of the highest-yield planet in our network. Please bid Roger farewell, and wish him the best of luck. Ten, nine, eight…’

I look out the window, where Roger has ceased banging on the door, and is seated on the dirty ground, sobbing in to his hands. I open the door, Roger looks up.

‘Six, five, four…’

‘Sis I’m…’

‘You’re a bastard Roger, just like dad was. I thought I missed you, but I was better off when you were at the farm.’

Roger frowned. ‘I’m doing my…’

‘Two, one, zero. Please maintain a safe distance of at least two meters.’

The ship overhead began to glow, dark red this time instead of green. A beam emerged, descending to the ground where Roger stood, a fearful grimace on his face.

‘Processing initiated.’

I look out at Roger, his face frozen in the look I always remember from dad, before he told me I’m not good enough, or how lucky I was I never met ‘his’ father.

The ship once again began to hum, louder and sharper. Roger looked fearfully up at the ship, and tried to leap from the red beam, bouncing from its now-solid sides. As the humming intensified, Roger’s face began to grow redder and redder.

‘Good riddance,’ I mutter as Roger’s skin began to bulge, then with a loud POP, his body burst like an over-ripe melon. The blood and gore swirled in a mini tornado through the glowing red beam, and then was sucked back in to the ship like some kind of gruesome vacuum. The beam disappeared, leaving no sign of the ‘processing’.

I nodded in satisfaction, turning from the window. 

‘Thank you for participating in today’s assignment! This is Quidzix Primos, wishing you a prosperous day on behalf of The Consortium!’