REFLECTIONS

by K. Jeffery Petersen


Pull back hard on the stick. Vectored thrusters slam down 
the rear of my fighter, whipping me over and back. I attempt 
to draw a bead on the guy chasing me, but his shots get off 
before I complete the turn. Explosive round rip into the top 
of my fighter, bite through the delicate internal 
components, and continue on.

There’s a clunk, and everything dies. I hear hissing behind 
me. I’m dead already, and the other pilot knows it. He 
continues on to find more challenging foe.

I feel around with my gloves, trying to find the atmosphere 
leak. How long do I have? Two hours? Thirty minutes? Ten? I 
lean my head back and stare through the cracked canopy at 
Earth rotating slowly below. Wispy clouds trail from brown 
mountain peaks across its green and blue surface.

I can’t see the destruction wrought by man. Sprawling cities 
spewing poison into the air, full of the pessimistic 
humanity which can’t be bothered to care. Forests 
slaughtered wholesale to support a population of ten 
billion. Cattle, killed each year by the billions, to feed 
this population. The animal biomass of the planet using up 
so much oxygen each day that asphyxiation is one of the 
leading causes of death in urban centers.

Interplanetary eco-terrorists come one day to take it all 
away, and for once in history, the planet comes together to 
fight off this threat. That’s why I’m up here, leaking 
atmosphere, sitting in a $50 billion lump of dead metal and 
plastic with no chance of rescue.

Why do I bother? Why fight for a population that doesn’t 
care, doesn’t feel, doesn’t even understand. They don’t want 
this war, don’t feel the urge to support a cause like our 
enemies. All they know is the urge to yell at their kids, 
ignore their wives, and fuck their secretaries. What’s that 
compared to the feeling of fighting for the livelihood of a 
planet.

The pay was lousy, hours even worse, yet still I came. I 
felt something back then, but I don’t know what it is 
anymore. National pride? No, even back then I didn’t feel 
any love for my country, just a clear contempt for everyone 
else.

Not love of my family, either. They have done nothing to 
earn my love or my respect. A bunch of squabbling idiots. 

Those who came here to destroy us I can respect. They have a 
vision and the focus to see it through. Humanity is a 
disease to planet earth for them, and they are the 
antibodies. I suppose the Gaia effect applies even up here, 
30 miles above the surface.

I wonder how I can help them, in my last few minutes alive.