The following scene is set in a Parisian themed bistro on The Moon called “Xylophone Zoo” located in a small city, in the Sea of Tranquility, known as Sky Den. By a window, there is a wonderful view of Earth as prominent as a full moon would be in Paris. Outside the window is a dog wearing a doggy space suit, tethered to a pole outside of the café within sight of it. His owner is on the other side of the window drinking a cup of Venusian Latte when he is approached by someone wearing a white sweater and a pair of jeans. His appointment. “Where’s Fido?” he asks.
“Outside, tethered to a very hospitable pole. He’s got his helmet and his canine space suit and a few hours of oxygen to help sustain the time. He’ll be fine.”
“Why wouldn’t they let him inside? There’s plenty of oxygen to go around.”
“Well The Xylophone Zoo is the only zoo I know of that doesn’t allow animals inside of it. The only animal in their zoo is of the homosapien variety. Canine's craving coffee must inquire elsewhere for their fix for the Xylophone will not have them. How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m consumed by a kind of werewolf from Titan.”
“Saturn’s finest son”. Though their wolves are much to handle.”
“Their women are even more of a handful.”
“What did you want to talk about? Keep in mind you only get only fifteen minutes. I’m not supposed to be talking to the family member of a reject applicant. So what is on your mind?”
“Earth.”
“My most, and least, favorite topic simultaneously. What do you need from it and what do you need from me?”
“I need to get a transit visa for someone.”
“For who?”
“A relative.”
“Yours or your wife’s?”
“My wife’s cousin," he said, "She’s a hard-worker.”
“With her mind or with her hands?”
“The second category.”
“The cost of a visa, and the cost of transportation, and the cost of living while she properly absorbs herself into Luna is more than her hands could ever produce in a lifetime. If we want strong backs and dexterous hands we have machines for that. For what the machines can’t handle we have plenty of cheap workers to choose from that we got back when the world’s nations were interested in establishing a kind of franchise here on Luna. America 2. Japan 2.0. France deuxième. Back when Earthian’s were subsidizing the costs of bringing their refugees here because they wanted to, at least, maintain some continuity in the universe if diplomacy on Earth show failed and hindsight will soon reveal that to be inevitable. Now they’re just desperate to find a diplomatic solution that doesn’t end in Armageddon. Luna, in general, was willing to absorb such refugees because the governments of Earth were paying us to do so. And they were paying us kindly. However, if the burden of the expense is placed on us to do, what were only a short while ago we were being paid to do, we don’t particularly care to oblige. Humanitarian concerns aside at the end of the day its credits we care about. Extraneous debits we do not.”
“One exception is all I ask. Reconsider her application. I have a quarter million credits I could give you.”
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“250,000 credits wouldn’t even be enough to get her half way here.”
“I was thinking you could have the means to retire at Lake Sister Largo. 250,000 credits could easily buy you a unit there. A friend of mine could ensure that you get accepted to their finest country club. Name a club you want to be a member of and it’s done. Just do this favor for my family.”
“No,” he says, with a prominent view of Earth in the skyline, “Luna has enough people already. Maybe too many. Yes, we have the room and yes we do have the oxygen and lunar soil is surprisingly accommodating of agriculture. So it’s not that we’re worried about an extra mouth to feed or an extra pair of lungs to take our ‘precious air’. We are very good at thawing ice and extracting oxygen from it. We have surpluses of clean air and food and if it were not for the transportation costs we probably could export it to Earth. It certainly could use some. Also, golf’s not really my sport. Especially on The Moon. Golf isn’t as much fun with one-eighth the gravity.”
“So what’s the problem if you have all the basics and plenty of them? Just one human being from Tokyo is all I ask.”
“You ask too much. Now are you going to order a latte or call it a day? The choice is up to you.”
“Outside, tethered to a very hospitable pole. He’s got his helmet and his canine space suit and a few hours of oxygen to help sustain the time. He’ll be fine.”
“Why wouldn’t they let him inside? There’s plenty of oxygen to go around.”
“Well The Xylophone Zoo is the only zoo I know of that doesn’t allow animals inside of it. The only animal in their zoo is of the homosapien variety. Canine's craving coffee must inquire elsewhere for their fix for the Xylophone will not have them. How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m consumed by a kind of werewolf from Titan.”
“Saturn’s finest son”. Though their wolves are much to handle.”
“Their women are even more of a handful.”
“What did you want to talk about? Keep in mind you only get only fifteen minutes. I’m not supposed to be talking to the family member of a reject applicant. So what is on your mind?”
“Earth.”
“My most, and least, favorite topic simultaneously. What do you need from it and what do you need from me?”
“I need to get a transit visa for someone.”
“For who?”
“A relative.”
“Yours or your wife’s?”
“My wife’s cousin," he said, "She’s a hard-worker.”
“With her mind or with her hands?”
“The second category.”
“The cost of a visa, and the cost of transportation, and the cost of living while she properly absorbs herself into Luna is more than her hands could ever produce in a lifetime. If we want strong backs and dexterous hands we have machines for that. For what the machines can’t handle we have plenty of cheap workers to choose from that we got back when the world’s nations were interested in establishing a kind of franchise here on Luna. America 2. Japan 2.0. France deuxième. Back when Earthian’s were subsidizing the costs of bringing their refugees here because they wanted to, at least, maintain some continuity in the universe if diplomacy on Earth show failed and hindsight will soon reveal that to be inevitable. Now they’re just desperate to find a diplomatic solution that doesn’t end in Armageddon. Luna, in general, was willing to absorb such refugees because the governments of Earth were paying us to do so. And they were paying us kindly. However, if the burden of the expense is placed on us to do, what were only a short while ago we were being paid to do, we don’t particularly care to oblige. Humanitarian concerns aside at the end of the day its credits we care about. Extraneous debits we do not.”
“One exception is all I ask. Reconsider her application. I have a quarter million credits I could give you.”
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“250,000 credits wouldn’t even be enough to get her half way here.”
“I was thinking you could have the means to retire at Lake Sister Largo. 250,000 credits could easily buy you a unit there. A friend of mine could ensure that you get accepted to their finest country club. Name a club you want to be a member of and it’s done. Just do this favor for my family.”
“No,” he says, with a prominent view of Earth in the skyline, “Luna has enough people already. Maybe too many. Yes, we have the room and yes we do have the oxygen and lunar soil is surprisingly accommodating of agriculture. So it’s not that we’re worried about an extra mouth to feed or an extra pair of lungs to take our ‘precious air’. We are very good at thawing ice and extracting oxygen from it. We have surpluses of clean air and food and if it were not for the transportation costs we probably could export it to Earth. It certainly could use some. Also, golf’s not really my sport. Especially on The Moon. Golf isn’t as much fun with one-eighth the gravity.”
“So what’s the problem if you have all the basics and plenty of them? Just one human being from Tokyo is all I ask.”
“You ask too much. Now are you going to order a latte or call it a day? The choice is up to you.”
Suddenly something happens on Earth and we can see it from the window of Xylophone Zoo. However neither the man in the white sweater or the government official he is talking to notice or acknowledge the weird thing happening on Earth. “I hope Fido outside runs out of oxygen, The Man in the White Sweater says to The Government Official while every nuclear arsenal on Earth detonates simultaneously creating huge fireballs that light up the Earth like reddish-orange spots that quickly flicker away. “You should order the zoo’s Astro chai, and a Jupiterian biscotti while you're at it,” the government official on Luna says as everything on Earth is terribly inconvenienced by the end of the world. “ It’s the best two credits you could ever spend.”
Instead of replying verbally The Man in the White Sweater gives him the finger and walks out of the Parisan-themed café on The Moon. The government official finishes his Venusians latte while all life on Earth comes to an end.
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