martedì, gennaio 16, 2018

Chitin Republic

The stones are killing it. Flashing lights cut your eyes, squeezing tears out. You move your body ritmically, joyful since he's pleased to meet you. The stones go up and land down surrounded by screaming cheers.

Schools will be closed tomorrow: it's always like that after a lapidation. They let you stay home with the family to think about it, talk about it, freeze it in your mind.
You're a locust, Harry! Behave like one and stop whining. I am your older brother: I will teach you. You're a locust, and a damn good one if you ask me about it: third of your name, promising quarterback and phenomenal latin lover.
See, I made you laugh.
Now rise your antennas 'cause I'll say it only once: mirrors should be shattered. I know it sounds crazy to destroy the core symbols of the locust-human pact, can I explain; I should start from the beginning. I've found books, depicting our people in a distant era: we used to be small and we used to be billions. Billions and billions and billions. How small, you ask? Not enough to throw a stone: must 've been a cruel world, but it was a world without stones.

Locusts were putting mankind in a corner. Flaying earth itself with insopportable noise, they dried every green inch of blessed, carefully engineered, robot-enhanced crops. Poison was now useless. Desperately trying to find a genetic flaw in thier countless enemies, human scientists made contact with a breed of exceptionally intelligent locusts. It turned out these unexpected, domestic aliens were well upset with the current situation.
Politicians of the two species met and made harsh deals. Caeliferis and human scientists worked together on parallel programs: in two years, four-fifths of the locust population had been genetically purged, while a restricted part of them was gigantized to the size of humans.

Refusing to build their own nation, the megalocusts demanded gold and rare metals. A new caste was born: less rich than the richest men but way wealthier than the rest. Season after season, the locusts merged with mankind, slowly forgetting their roots.

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