TERRAFORMING: AN UNEARTHLY EARTH
By Alicia Hilton
When a beam of light brighter than any light you’ve ever seen vaporizes that building, do not scream. Shut your eyes, close your mouth, hold very still. Do not panic. I know that’s asking an awful lot when you’re terrified that you’re about to be fried like a donut, but you’ll have to trust us.
Which building? The blight that’s blocking the sun, that steel and glass monstrosity. That’s the first building of millions the beam will obliterate.
Listen, dear. There’s no time for questions. Do not open your eyes. Do not move until we tell you it is safe. We apologize for the dust you’ll inhale. We apologize for the hair loss and the blisters that will blossom all over your skin. The air is going to get very hot.
There’s no need to become hysterical. Hair grows back. The hair on your head and the cilia in your lungs will regenerate. And you’ll grow a new skin that’s more durable, impervious to heat damage. How is that possible? Our scientific advances make anything possible.
No, I’m not a parrot or a winged cat. Earth’s birds share the same speaking genes as the avian beings from my galaxy, but I don’t believe any of your parrots or cats are capable of terraforming.
I apologize for laughing. You look like you’re about to faint. Do you need to sit down?
Yes, terraforming is absolutely necessary. Earth’s atmosphere, the surface topography, even the planet’s core, are too ladened with toxins for my species to thrive.
How do I know that the beam won’t kill you? Practice. Of course, we’ve done this before. Thousands of times.
Trust me. Our terraforming technology is carefully calibrated. You’ll survive—if you obey. Shut your eyes, close your mouth, hold very still.
Think of yourself as a phoenix who has the chance to rise from the flames.
***
A yellow elastic band. The truce trussing two twin sisters’ legs who haven’t spoken since they survived the terraforming.
Flying saucers. The younger twin wishes her sister never became an astronaut,
never led the aliens to Earth.
Intergalactic Day starting gun. Human contestants surge across Central Park,
hobble, sprint, pummel opponents, scream, racing for extra food rations.
Squid. The younger twin crashes into her fate. She sees her ex-wife sitting in the bleachers with her male alien spouse and their tentacled toddler.
Blue bottle flies. Alien Insectomorphs buzz beside the finish line, munching on fried cinnamon churros with chocolate dipping sauce. Gossip about subjugated Earthlings tastes sweet.
Alicia Hilton is an author, editor, attorney, professor, actor, and former FBI Special Agent. Her work has appeared in Breakwater Review, Daily Science Fiction, Eastern Iowa Review, Gamut, Litro, Mslexia, Stoneboat Literary Journal, Strange Horizons, The Quarter(ly), Vastarien, Year’s Best Hardcore Horror Volumes 4, 5 & 6, and elsewhere. She is a member of the Horror Writers Association, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association, and the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association. Her website is https://aliciahilton.com. Follow her on Twitter @aliciahilton01 and Bluesky @aliciahilton.bsky.social.
Sarah Burrier is a student Illustrator and artist residing in Frederick County, Maryland, studying Illustration at Towson University. She specializes in Pen & Ink illustration while being well-versed in other mediums (with a healthy dose of Surrealist humor thrown in). The genres of Science Fiction and Fantasy are a huge inspiration for Sarah’s work and encompass a great amount of her life. When she’s not drawing her own worlds, she’s usually immersed in other Creative’s worlds through reading. More of her work can be found at arahburrier.com