by Dane Bagley
Mark Jenners’ room was a disaster area. After shuffling his junk around for about fifteen minutes, he found the object of his search, the latest issue of the ‘Space Patrol’ comic book, under a pile of dirty clothes. The thirteen-year-old boy then hopped onto his bed, grabbed a handful of Doritos from a half-filled bag on the floor, and began to scan the pages.
Space Patrol comic books came out soon after the announcement of the Space Force. Essentially, the Space Patrol was the comic book version of the Space Force. Their mission was to protect the earth from all of the evil aliens. Each issue featured a grotesque alien race that the Space Patrol had to annihilate, and of course each time they did just that. The Space Patrol consisted of young, powerful, energetic men and women in tight-fitting black uniforms. The men were good-looking, muscular, and fearless. The women were beautiful, full-figured, and aggressive, wearing uniforms that covered little more than a bikini would. All were equipped with powerful laser guns. Their ships, too, were loaded with laser guns, missiles, and nuclear weapons. The use of nuclear weapons was, of course, acceptable when destroying aliens and their worlds. This issue was about the Zoracks, a hideous group of aliens that came to the earth’s moon and stole the remnant of ‘the ball,’ from the experiment several years earlier. The shattered pieces of the ball were practically sacred relics, at least according to this comic, and therefore those aliens needed to be obliterated. These particular creatures were so revolting that they looked like they had it coming, whether they stole anything or not. This was entertainment at its finest, at least according to Mark and his generation.
Mark closed the book over his thumb, holding his place, grabbed another handful of chips, and sat up a little. I can’t believe school starts already tomorrow. This summer was so boring, I didn’t get to do anything fun, Mark thought as he munched on his Doritos. MTV, now actually music television, was blaring from the living room; an upbeat song that Mark enjoyed had just begun. He tried to settle back into his story as he tapped his feet to the beat. Soon the comic book was sitting on his chest, and Mark was jamming to the beat with both hands, and nodding his head as much as he could with it lying on the pillow.
As the song ended and the commercials began Mark felt a wave of boredom coming over him. He chucked the comic book across the room, having already reread it twice this week, and got up and went to the window. Several boys were riding bikes around the apartment complex parking lot. It did look fun riding bikes around, but the boys were younger, and Mark thought, I feel like I’d get a headache out there in that bright sun.
Mark had slept in until after 10:30 AM, and now that it was nearly 1:00 PM, he had still not had anything decent to eat. After kicking around the junk in his room for a few moments, he headed into the kitchen and filled himself a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He moseyed into the living room and plopped on the couch.
“Ah, I hate that song!” he squawked out loud as soon as the next video came on, and he fumbled for the remote. He settled on a talk show while flipping around the channels. Some dude was describing his being abducted by aliens. They tortured him, experimented on him, and then explained to him that they were going to destroy the earth. It was not clear whether he learned to speak their alien tongue, or whether they just told him this in English. Then they let him go so that he could warn everyone. As fascinated as Mark was in aliens, somehow this story just wasn’t jiving. Besides, Steve, Marks older brother who happened to be a Captain in the Space Force, had told him that the Space Force was watching earth so closely that there was no chance any alien ships had come to earth. Gramps says these people are a bunch of idiots, Mark thought as he began flipping the channels again.
“Is it true that credible evidence has been found that there is intelligent life out there?” asked a reporter to some government official on a news channel Mark had paused on. The channel had been showing a video clip of Stardust 20, the space station where Steve Jenners, Mark’s older brother, was awaiting his next voyage.
“No, there has not been any evidence of intelligent life discovered.”
“But isn’t it true that the ZX-120’s, the Space Force’s newest vessels, are equipped with full laboratories that could make a detailed analysis of any life forms?”
“Like most of our missions, the new ZX-120’s will be headed into completely unknown areas. Some of these areas we believe have planetary systems; we want to be prepared for anything. These ships are by far the most impressive ships in the Space Force.”
Back to the anchor: “The new ZX-120’s are all stationed on Stardust 20 awaiting their maiden voyages. Many are questioning the cost of these new ships, when the government claims that there has been no evidence of life…”
I hate the news! They spend half their time reporting rumors about aliens, and the other half of the time saying what a waste of money the Space Force is. Mark picked up the remote again and switched the channel, although this time more deliberately back to MTV. The video on was much more palatable to him, so he took a couple more bites of his ice cream, and settled himself comfortably for an afternoon in front of the tube.
Chapter 8
