Red Winged Black Bird on a fence post in a field.

Attack of the Seal People


Category: prose

I was digging through some old books from two hundred years from now and I came across this old diary. It seemed kind of interesting so I decided to print the first entry here. I hope you enjoy it.

The invasion of planet Earth would be the latest in a great string of victories for my people. Our technological superiority would make quick work of the primitive humans. They would be our slaves and their planet?s resources would be ours.

The speeches were magnificent. General Frang rolled a globe of the Earth on the stage. He spoke to all of us. ?From the times when our primitive ancestors pushed stones and logs around with their noses to the past few centuries, we Knarvins (seal people ) have used our technological ingenuity to master the universe. Today we prepare to conquer a new world. The beings there are technologically inferior. They cannot withstand our might.? The crowd cheered as the General balanced the globe on his nose before batting it into the audience with his tail.

Our fleet surrounded the Earth. We broadcast messages down at them, telling them we were their new masters. They launched missiles but to no avail. We were victorious.

The landing craft dropped Knarvin soldiers in all the major population centers. I was one of those soldiers. The humans fled before us, screaming in terror. Some discharged weapons at us. Their firearms could not match our sphere launchers.

It didn?t last though. I recall the first time I saw it happen. My group was on what the humans called the western hemisphere. We were rounding up humans for the labor camps. I saw a large male human walking between structures. My group leader ordered the human to stop but it did not. The leader then launched a sphere at the human. The human bared its teeth and then hit the approaching sphere with a cylinder made of wood.

The sphere bounced off the wooden cylinder and flew back at the leader?s personal craft. The craft exploded. More humans came out of the structures, each carrying a cylinder.

That was the beginning of the end for us. In the western hemisphere, the humans used cylinders of wood or aluminum, they called bats. In the eastern hemisphere, many used bats with a wide, flat face swung from beneath rather than horizontally like on the other side of the planet. Everywhere, the humans, with their damned opposable thumbs, drove our forces back until there were only a few of us left.

Now I hear the humans have even conquered the Knarvin home-world. Our great civilization has been decimated. The few of us left are prisoners. Every day I must stand before crowds of humans and balance harmless, colored balls on my nose or squeeze air-filled bulbs to make horns work. They feed me fish, but just enough to get by on. My noble ancestors must curse my name.

This cannot last forever. Already my companions and I are trying to grasp things with our flippers. We have made a pact that we will only breed if we are the best in the group at grabbing things. In the future our descendents will have opposable thumbs and then we will be avenged.

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