the war that destroyed the world and stuff (sorta sci-fi)
by foolish_Paeter
Posted to Stories on 2003-07-09 00:25:00
The war had escalated to a boiling temperature. The conflict had simplified by this time to two sides and one leader each. Every day each leader would deliver a speech pointing out the evils of the other side. The nations of each side saw only the hologram broadcasts sponsored by their own government. The armies were slaughtering eachother equally, their massive technology with all its lasers and plasma launchers and photon grenades had resulted in nothing but a bloody stalemate. The water was boiling — it was only a matter of time before the kettle began whistling.
Cabinet meeting in the Capitol Building of the Allied Southern Nations/
“Mr. President,” War Counselor Brote shouted, “We Must Take Further Action! Our soldiers are dying and nothing is coming of it!” He pounded his fist on the table with each italicised word. The vibration made his sabres rattle.
“But there is only one step left! You know that turning this into a nuclear war would ultimately result in the destruction of all civilisation!” spouted Domestic Minister Allin angrily. He was sick of arguing this same argument at every meeting. And he was Really sick of Brote’s sabre-rattling.
“Not If We Hit Them First!” Six more pounds, six more rattles on each of Brote’s twin sabres. Allin’s brain winced.
“There is no way to be certain that we can! The destruction is mutually assured!”
“Damn you, Allin! You’re nothing but a fuckin’ Pussy!” One rattle. One last rattle. The rattle that broke the camel’s back. Allin leapt from his seat, drew his laser pistol, and shot Brote in the head.
“DAMN YOU AND YOUR FUCKING SABRE RATTLING! GO TO HELL!!” He fired again, but missed as his arm was pulled away by the Treasurer seated next to him. Brote slid out of his chair and under the table, his eyes wide open in shock. There was a silence throughout the room. Suddenly Allin felt a pull on his leg. Next thing he knew he was under the table. Everyone heard him scream. Brote emerged and stabbed his sabre into the tabletop. Allin was impaled upon it. Brote, ignoring the laser wound at the side of his head, crossed his arms and hmphed rancorously.
There was silence. Then President Torl spoke. “Shit. I guess we’ll have to replace him with a robot like all the others so no one gets suspicious.”
“Heh heh, yes. A robot. Heh. So no one gets… suspicious. Haha. Hahahahahah! Hahahahahahahaha…”
Torl, unnerved, began laughing along.
/Cut to the exterior of the meeting room door. The laughter continues for a while. Torl’s scream rings out. The security robots, reprogrammed by Brote’s cronies, remain motionless.
* * *
Presidential Office of the United Nations of the North/
“President Gromeir! President Gromeir!” the aide panted, running into the office, “we just received an emergency report from our mole in Brote’s organisation. Torl has been replaced by a robot, which Brote will be using to launch a nuclear assault as soon as possible!”
Gromeir grinned. “Hot damn! I’ve been waiting for an excuse to nuke those bastards!”
“What?!”
“I hate those fuckin’ Southies! They’re racially inferior! Just look at their hands and faces and skin, if you can do it without vomiting! Now you get the hell out of here while I call the oribital nukes in on them! Muahahahaha…”
/Cut to the orbital view of the planet. Skies are a bit gray from pollution, but everything looks pretty much fine. Then red circles begin to appear. All over the place. In a few minutes, nine tenths of the planet’s surface was covered by atomic blast.
Civilisation lay in ruins, destroyed at last by barbarism.
The few survivors were forced to live by scavenging the barren, ashy wasteland. They watched as the animal species began dying off. And they realised that it was their technology that even allowed the possibility of such destruction.
After several years, it was realised that they were capable of living through the radiation, but their offspring kept getting smaller and smaller through the generations.
They couldn’t rebuild. They wouldn’t rebuild. Not to see it all destroyed again. Surely their simple existence as lowly scavengers was better in the end.
In time, new species arose out of the ashes and overtook the once-proud now-scavenger race. These once-grand beings were nothing now..
And that is the story of how the cockroaches went from Lords of the Earth to the pests in your kitchen cabinet.