Sparks and the BEM (fiction)

“You’re a dead human, Sparks.”

The alien weapon was pointed menacingly at me. I knew I had only seconds to react; the Sslan were a warrior species hellbent on destroying humans in general and me in particular. Accidentally step on ONE royal larvae and they get all bent out of shape. You’d think they’d have a sense of humor about these things. After all, their larvae looked a lot like slugs. Who wouldn’t squish one with bare feet given the chance?

“I can revive the slug…err…larvae,” I said quickly. “I can clone an exact copy from the residual DNA stuck between my toes.”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in the alien visipods. The weapon wavered as bubbly and sickeningly wet noises burped from a hole somewhere from within the folds of mucus. My translat-vice spoke, “You can do this, human? You can clone a new baby Xchrtyc?”

“Sure,” I smile disingenuously, “Humans perfected cloning technology decades ago.”

“You do this and Sslaan Empire will dig a sludge pool in your honor on homeworld.” He pointed the weapon at me again, “You clone baby. Now.”

I nodded, “Sure thing, my snot-nosed friend. Here,” I pointed to a control panel across the cargo bay of my ship, “You can even help.”

Warily, the alien made its way to the control panel. “What do I do now?”

I removed my boot and started scraping muck from between my toes. “When I tell you, press the red button three times fast. Ignore the warning bells – those are just warning that the genetic material isn’t human. Okay?”

The alien nodded slimy visipods in understanding as I grabbed hold of the rail next to me.


The alien never knew what happened. In an instant, the cargo bay opened to empty space, sucked him out, and turned him into a frozen booger. I was whipped about for a few seconds, but the safety measures quickly shut the door and atmosphere was restored to normal levels.

Still giggling, I set the auto-pilot for a new star system. A desert planet this time. Wet worlds were no fun anymore.

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