James Rumpel
Darren Gaskow patted the top of his servo-bot. “Well, Bertha, I think that’s all the ultranium that will fit. The hold is filled to the brim.”
The sturdy machine, as always, gave no reply.
“Seal the hold,” ordered Darren, “and then go close up the mine. We’ve got nothing to do now but wait.”
Darren strolled back to the front of the ship, his home for the last fifteen years. It’s been a long time, he thought, but it’s going to be worth it.
Inside the cabin, he turned the radio on. He listened, hoping to hear something other than static.
Nothing.
Darren sighed and opened the refrigeration unit. He reached for a slice of apple pie but changed his mind, grabbing an apple sandwich on unleavened bread and a cup of apple juice.
“I hate apples.”
He had planned for this venture. When he arrived at the planet, the ship’s hold had contained a variety of seeds, saplings, and mining equipment. Darren had known he would need sustainable food for an undetermined amount of time. Unfortunately, only the apple trees and one type of wheat had survived. The other plants never adapted to the differences in soil. And so, the sole staple of his diet for the last decade-plus had been apples. Apple pancakes. Apple jelly. Apple soup. Apple burgers. Luckily, he had also brought a stockpile of vitamins.
Darren glared out the ship’s front view screen, at the rows upon rows of apple trees.
“I swear to God, once I’m off this planet I will never eat another apple.”
Darren sat in the cabin, choking down some applesauce. It had been a month since he’d completely filled the hold. A month spent preparing the ship, waiting for the storm to abate, and eating apples.
A brief but noticeable silence interrupted the radio’s never-ending static. Darren jumped to his feet, spilling the sauce. He ran to the receiver, globs of pureed apple running down his pant legs. Could it be? Was the cosmic storm that had stranded him here finally starting to abate?
Before he’d set out for this remote planet, the experts had predicted that the storm would last somewhere between ten and twenty years. They’d banned all travel in and around this system.
Another gap, longer this time, split the stream of static.
Darren grinned. His gamble was paying off. He’d ignored the warnings and outraced the storm. As he had hoped, the planet’s atmosphere provided a shield from the solar flares, dangerous electrical impulses, and heavy radiation that raged above. Because of his bravery and forethought, he was the only miner to make it to the ultranium rich planet. In the years that followed, he’d collected thousands of tons of the rare and valuable mineral.
“Hey, Bertha!” He leaped out of the cabin. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. I want the ship ready for take-off as soon as the storm stops. We’re finally getting out of here!”
It took less than a week for the static to dissipate completely, but the ship was ready when the storm abated. He would have his bounty sold before other miners could even reach this planet!
Darren looked over the camp that had been his home for the last fifteen years. He was ready to leave, but he had promised himself one last act of vengeance.
He grabbed a bottle of rocket fuel and headed out to the apple orchard. Hundreds of trees stretched toward the horizon.
He emptied the fuel into the wheat plants that grew between the trees. From a safe distance, he lit a torch and threw it. The dried wheat burst into flame and the fire spread to the trees. It grew quickly, and by the time Darren returned to the ship, the entire orchard was ablaze. A cloud of black smoke climbed skyward.
Before his ship rose above the atmosphere, Darren made one final pass over the blazing orchard. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the flames engulf the trees. “Stupid apples!”
Darren stared at the commodities broker, his mouth open.
“Yeah, it was about six or seven years ago that they came up with an artificial way to produce ultranium. It’s cheap, easy, and effective. There isn’t much of a market for the stuff anymore. I’m sorry, but what you have in your ship is almost worthless.”
“That can’t be,” Darren whined. “It was selling for nearly a million credits a ton when I went to the planet. I spent fifteen years there. I worked like a madman. I was all alone. I had to live on apples for most of that time. It’s got to be worth something!”
The broker perked up. “Apples? Did you say apples? The kind that grow on trees?”
“Obviously,” replied Darren. “What about apples?”
“About three years ago, Earth was hit by a terrible blight. Almost every tree on the planet died. Sure, we have ways to produce imitation lumber and machines to convert carbon dioxide to oxygen, but the market for actual trees is through the roof. Seriously, one single tree, of any kind, is worth up to a quarter-million credits. Did you bring any of them back with you? Can you get back to the planet and get some?”
Darren buried his head in his hands. “I hate apples.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I find this to be the case more often than not. People don’t take advantage of what they already possess yet continue to want more. Great story, Jim!
I had a feeling that burning the trees was a mistake. Great story!
Serves him right. Who doesn’t like apples? Funny story. Thanks for writing this.
John Randolph- Thanks. The story didn’t out to be an analogy, but it kind of turned out to be one.
Arlan Gerig- Thanks. I agree, it’s never a good idea to burn things (trees, bridges, toast, etc.)
Jeff Gard- Thanks for reading and commenting.
Karma! Satisfaction is a life lesson. You never disappoint.
This is so painful to read–the poor trees! Though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone strategizing based on greed would have an ending like this.
Thanks for the comment. I agree the main character is definitely a villain and gets his comeuppance.