The crew of High-Orbit Weather Station X12 had received no communication for three days. And from this vantage point; it’s crew – Dave and his Yorkshire terrier also named Dave – could see why.
Typhoons had leveled Tokyo. Anchorage was now a tornado corridor. Europe was overrun with locusts. An immense, growing thunderstorm covered half the Earth, transforming it into a black, electric marble.
They’d been forgotten. With no food left… Dave sat with Dave on his lap, and thought a final space-walk would be poetic.
A shadow crossed between their satellite and the sun… and through the viewport the Daves saw an immense ship with strange alien markings, pointing all manner of antennae, dishes and transmission towers at the earth.
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But Dog Dave heard it. Whimpering, he hid under the console.
“Bad boy!” said the message. “Did you do this?”