Random Story :
Routine Traffic Stop
Author : Dan Hope “Shut it down! SHUT IT DOWN!” …
Spadehammer
Author: R. J. Erbacher
“I… am… the summoner… of Spadehammer!”
The herd of oafs began ‘hoolering.’ They could not clap and a ‘hool’ was their equivalent of a cheer.
The inhabitants of this planet were basically bipedal, semi-intelligent cattle with thick arms that had curled appendages on the end resembling an elephant’s trunk. Not much taller than me but with squat bodies and pillar-like legs and the fleshy head of a fish. Not attractive by any standards but easily manipulated.
I was dispatched into the far reaches of the cosmos with the notion of determining if specific celestial bodies had mineral deposits. As earth continued to deplete its resources we were now forced to venture further and further into space to search for our needs; carbon, lithium, cobalt, silica. Our ships were equipped with satellite mining probes that would orbit a potential planet or moon, fire a projectile at a possible source which would impact destructively into the surface, create a small crater, and examine what lies beneath down to an impressive depth. When the data was collected it would be sent back home for analyzation. It was my job to pick and choose what were considered the areas with the most potential for finding these chemical cocktails. Having a masters in astrogeology from USC coupled with a pilot’s license landed me this lucrative job.
Discovering a life form at one of these locations was not part of the plan.
When the sampling from the atmosphere distinguished that it was sustainable for humans I landed for a closer inspection. Not necessarily a violation of policy but frowned upon. Even though I could pinpoint sites from the ship and laser target a spot, they did supply me with small trackers that could be planted on the surface and remotely fired upon by a series of commands from my communicator. After several hours of exploring, I had placed a couple trackers and was just situating the third when I saw the creatures milling around the mouth of a nearby cave. Probably frightened into hiding by the landing of my vessel. Although imposing with their stocky build and weird anatomy they appeared harmless.
Eventually a symbiotic relationship formed between us over several weeks. I didn’t scare them off and they brought gifts of food, most of which was inedible and disgusting. However, they included one violet plant that wasn’t entirely unpleasant smelling. I ventured a nibble on a leaf and the hallucinogenic properties were mind-blowing.
I picked up their primitive language quickly and was soon conversing easily with them. I informed them to keep supplying me with the ‘purples’ and we would be fine.
About two months in, happy as a clam and getting high every day, I was challenged by the leader of the tribe who wanted me to participate in some wrestling contest. I think he was fed-up with me being pampered. Well, I had no hope of defeating him so I explained that my influences were far beyond their understanding. As bold a statement that it was, it held no weight with the crowd. I managed to direct their attention in the vicinity of the last tracker I had placed and told them I would show my power. Using the built-in mic, I called down a strike form the probe. When the ground erupted from the blast they scurried into their caves and there were no more challenges.
I discovered, through mutterings, they came to believe I was a holy man who could call down the wrath of the spirits, which they now referred to as Spadehammer, an amalgamation of two of their tool names; a flat primitive shovel for digging dirt and a club used for pounding spikes.
As long as I verbally reinforced my abilities to the masses every couple of weeks, they continued to revere me and bring me my stash. I was living the good life.
Then a transmission crackled in my earpiece. A message from Earth. The analyzation from the probe blast had shown an abundance of material wealth. They would be sending a mining company to begin construction.
My naïve tribe of friends were going to come to despise Spadehammer. I’d better be gone by then.