Toy Planets Page 4

  Chapter 4

  After studying the mechanics of interplanetary warfare, Latome prepared specific tactics to allow his planet to find a not-so-distant planet; a grotesque, wretched one. Latome did contemplate the effect this would have on the creatures within the two planets, but the advancement of the universe, rather than one planet, was primary.

  With research complete, Latome grabbed the drawings and writings he had created that morning and left for the creation store. He walked at a slow pace and thought mostly of his little, blue planet, working and struggling. When Latome reached the store he wasn’t sure of his plan anymore. Just as he turned back toward home, the door to Elite Crafts opened and Artune peered out.

  "How are you doing, Latome? Have you come for more supplies?"

  Latome thought for a few seconds, then stood up straight.

  "Yes, I need some new things."

  "Right this way, young man."

  Just inside the door frame, Latome stopped. Artune, with his arms folded behind him, stood inches from Latome. He didn’t shower often, and it seemed he was eager to let this be known. Latome took a step backward; Artune, a step forward.

  "And what would you be looking for?"

  Latome looked around the shop. "I need a planet," he said, still looking to the walls, "and some aliens similar to humans."

  "Ah, very nice. What type of planet young man?"

  Latome looked down to his notes and pulled them from his folder. He shuffled through the first few pages and stopped at one, reading from the list aloud. Artune copied the information down and began a program that the store had only recently acquired. There were a lot more buttons than there used to be.

  "Ok, here. Uh huh. . . should just be one more there, and. . . let me see here. . . ok. I hate this new way. It makes no sense."

  After much struggle, Artune supplied sufficient information to begin the planet creation and turned back to Latome. "I’m assuming you want this planet inhabitable?"

  "Yes. I need an extremely fertile planet with minimal disruption or change. Perfectly suitable for the aliens I wish to place there."

  "Not a problem, not a problem. If you like, you may start the search for an alien," said Artune, pointing toward a door to Latome’s left, "Should be just a minute."

  Latome shook his head and entered the Species Room. Thousands of aliens surrounded him perched on shelves along the walls. The aliens were animate but heavy latches held them tight to their position. Above each creature a small card listed that particular species’ name, history, traits, and flaws. Although much of this could be altered, these were their base attributes.

  Nasilaous Rosalia. First breeding occurred within the third cycle. Red or dark orange in color, strong olfactory senses, high maneuverability and mobility. Strong family. Low to medium intelligence. Docile.

  "Hmm, docile."

  Another creature caught Latome’s attention. It was twice the size of humans and had a large shell which covered all sides of the alien.

  Terrapenaplastronas Opotamus. First breeding occurred before the first cycle, exact date unknown. Variation of green or brown in color, territorial, low maneuverability. Low intelligence.

  The door opened behind Latome.

  "Alright, I’ve sent it through." The old man hobbled into the room. "Have you chosen a form yet, young man?"

  "I don’t know, I liked this one," pointing to Nasilaous Rosalia. "They seem to match humans—they even look like them—but they’re docile. And this one is not smart enough."

  "So it is Nasilaous Rosalia you want? The docile trait can be replaced easily enough. Much easier than infusing intelligence."

  Latome looked back at the brown alien and shook his head.

  "Yes, I’ll take that one."

  The new planet and its life were packaged for Latome in small containers. Ten million male aliens and forty million female aliens littered the gel-filled container Latome held in his hand. The male aliens were indeed brave.

  All this time Latome had waited. Years of ridicule, in the hopes of a miracle. That somehow his universe differed from all others. That somehow he would not have to be the orchestrator.

  As he stood before his universe, his newly populated planet in hand, he knew his time had come.

  With most of the aliens secured, there was a mishap or two, Latome lifted the small flap in the corner of his cubed universe. With a long, metal grappling tool he released the planet into the universe.

  Latome watched the orbit less planet hover for a moment, he then reached back inside the cube and repositioned a nearby star to provide energy and balance. A deep, red beam of light shot through the black abyss and stopped at Latome’s insignificant blue planet. As fast as the beam had travelled, so too did the new planet and its star. Upon reaching the blue planet’s sun, the massive bodies slowed and began a cycle. The new planet found safety and structure in an elongated elliptical rotation around the new, larger sun. The small, blue planet and the now lost star became locked in a struggle with one another. In the end, the small, weak star shot away from the system with tremendous speed. The old planet and the new one nestled to share their sun.

  For Latome it happened in moments, for the aliens on both planets ten thousand years had passed since the first human realized the enormous mass heading directly for their planet was itself a planet, accompanied by a star, such as their sun.

  Technology increased on both planets and a desperate war began.

  The implanted aliens far exceeded the capabilities of their rivals. Essentially, the small, blue planet was at war, but with no means to participate.

  Latome was pleased with the initiative of his new planet and relished in their early progression. Frecarei even acknowledged his slight improvement. "Finally you’ve done something," he said. "Maybe this universe isn’t a complete waste."

  Latome’s new aliens were abundant and charged; they flourished in battle with the weak planet. It seemed they had always been at war with this desperate mass. Their technology expanded, and their evolution grew tighter.

  Latome lowered his head and focused on his weak planet. Large craters, visible without tool, stared him in the face. It looked more brown than blue, as Latome focused a tool to examine the inhabitants. Scared, timid creatures sprinkled across the land without direction—they wept and threw themselves to the ground. Prolonged war had not been infused in this species. All had been lost. Millions of years of evolution threatening its disappearance.

  Latome’s attention was broken by a flash of metal to his right: a small squadron of ships were headed towards the blue planet. Latome decided to watch the attack. He followed some missiles to their destination and watched them explode on the surface with tremendous impact. Chunks of meat and dirt coalesced violently in clouds, then fell to the ground as burnt, gritty planks. Some aliens clawed at the ground with their hands, as they knew there was no escape, others huddled in dark recesses with their eyes shut tight.

  Latome closed his eyes, yet the small aliens remained. They fluttered in the black void of his mind.