They came to us from the stars. Little pretty things about eighteen inches high, five pounds at their heaviest, and for all intents and purposes, entirely female humanoid.
"Sir?" A voice emerged. Martin Patrick blinked. The cloud ascended.
"Yes?" Martin asked.
"Would you care for some water or an amphet before you address the assembly?"
"No. No, thank you. That's not necessary."
"Very good, sir. We have your coms link set up. Whenever you are ready." The door shut quietly behind him and immediately, the silence descended.
Not long after, what we came to call the "Inkies", appeared, almost everyone we knew had one. The nubile little sprites would dance on your shoulder, sing haunting melodies, play with your food, swim in your bath water, and if you were lucky, make pretty faces at you while you tried to meet a deadline.
The only downside was that they had to choose you. You couldn't go and buy one. One day the little creature would show up and from that moment on, never leave your side. After a year, it began to adversely effect society. People spent more time playing with their Inkies than they did pushing buttons, pulling levers, calculating figures, processing requests and collecting harvests. I was only able to get where I am today because, when it comes to the Inkies, I was never selected.
"Sir?" Another voice.
"What is it? Martin asked again, getting annoyed.
"News from Washington. Radio dark."
Martin heard the deafening silence. His head felt as though is would tumble off his shoulders. He felt his fingers rubbing his cheek.
"We are proceeding, sir?"
There was no going back now, he thought.
"Yes," Martin replied "We are."
The door shut.
My wife and I had only been married six months when her Inkie came along. "Alexa" chose her, of course. She loved to feed it popcorn. The smacking sound it made with its little mouth brought her unending delight. The Inkie would never take popcorn, or any other treat, from me. It would scramble to hide behind my wife and peek out and watch me. My wife began to avoid me simply to keep her Inkie in high spirits. Soon, I found I was married to a laugh that would carry down the hall several times a day. Banishment from my wife's bed allowed me to spend more time with the other Lords, though they themselves soon became disembodied laughter echoing down the halls of Parliament. I, and a small handful of others, would have to make some drastic decisions if mankind was to survive.
"Sir?"
"What, damn you?" Martin slammed his fist on the desk.
"Apologies, sir. The last of the transports has landed. We are closing the doors."
"That's fine. We have the feed ready?"
"We do, sir. Delegates are standing by."
"I'll be there presently."
The door closed, a little too loud this time. Martin was almost startled and definitely annoyed.
My wife left me in the summer of 2065. I wasn't aware she had left until six months later. I found a note in her room when I went to tell her about the Exodus. I wasn't going to giver her a certificate of admittance, I was going to tell her I was leaving her. Her and her stupid goddamn alien doll and everyone else and their stupid goddamn dolls were on their own now. The Inkies hadn't chosen us, so we had chosen not to save them. They would die along with the rest.
Martin Patrick walked down the sterile halls of the brutalist complex located on the Moon. The air smelled of electricity. Martin entered a vast hall, spotlit and prepared for his address to the people of Earth that made the three day journey. He sat down before a small glass eye affixed on a segmented tentacle snaking out of the floor. A small red light comes to life.
"My friends, we are here at the start of a new era. Before us, a future of infinite possibilities. Behind us, the Earth and all of our families, friends, everything we know and love. We are going to have to relearn these things, to reknow love, to remake man, in our own image. We will be better, stronger, colder, and without fear. Join me as we become tomorrow and shed man's adolescence to become what we were meant to be. My Lunarians, the stars are our home now."
The red light dies.
Martin Patrick stepped out of the vast hall and into a small room with a great window. He stood before the pane, arms folded behind his back, and contemplated the future. A grey suited attendant carrying a hand crate stepped in.
"Sir?"
"It is amazing how defined the Earth looks from here. Set it on the table and leave me."
"Yessir." The attendant gingerly placed the crate on the table and left the room.
Martin Patrick took a deep breath and watched as the blue orb slowly turned red. Within moments, the light from Earth is no more. Alone in the universe, which was at that moment the small room he stood in, Martin took a seat before the small crate and stared at the latched door on its side. He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a handful of popcorn.
