Hero Complex
In which things that ought to not have been forgotten wake up
Mr. Brown looked blandly at his watch. He was late. If he had been human, he might have panicked. It was not everyday that you received an invitation from the great and illustrious Mr. White. THE Mr. White. The one who founded the great network of the Milky Way... allowing those curiously odd and somewhat simple beings that called themselves human to trek to the ends of what they perceived as their reality.
One could marvel over the accomplishments of Mr. White for decades, centuries, millennia possibly, but the fact still remained that Mr. Brown was late. With what could have been classified as haste, he opened his minds eye and instantly found himself in a room that seemed to have a bit of everything from every era of mankind's inhabitance of Earth and every other planet they'd managed to situate themselves on.
Mr. White sat on a handmade chair of black and red striped satin and ivory over by the eighteenth century fireplace. Mr. Brown decided almost instantly that he liked the room. Because he did so, he proceeded to inform Mr. White of his conclusion.
"Thank you," said the room's creator. "I quite like it myself. It is the room I have dedicated to humans and their history." If Mr. White noticed Mr. Brown cringe at the word 'humans' he didn't comment on the matter. "I took designs from the earlier centuries of human culture; everything was so much more imaginative then. Now it seems everything is so sleek and shiny. It's really quite distasteful."
While Mr. Brown did agree with this observation, he felt a little awkward standing in the middle of the room. Mr. White seemed to notice this and motioned his hand towards an empty, high-backed chair that had not been in the room a minute ago.
"How frightfully rude of me, Mr. Brown, DO have a seat. It is a genuine Mackintosh, you know."
Mr. Brown slipped into the seat quietly and more than a little gratefully. He looked up at Mr. White for any indication that the older man might wish to continue idle chatter but found none so he spoke. "About the matter we discussed last millennium, Mr. White."
Mr. White smiled - his teeth perfect, white and even - and for the first time in his long life, Mr Brown was truly terrified.
"The humans," said Mr White slowly, as if he had given the matter some serious thought as the smile slipped into a look of math-teacher seriousness, "Have reached the border of the area I designated for them in my playground. I think it's time that we put a stop to this silly tish-tosh that they call 'exploring', don't you, Mr Brown?"
Mr. White smiled - his teeth perfect, white and even - and for the first time in his long life, Mr Brown was truly terrified.
Mr. Brown nodded, agreeing while the humans were overstaying their welcome, which was entirely too rude, Mr. Whites plan may be a little drastic.
Slowly he formulated his answer in a way that would neither offend Mr. White nor intone his unyielding support. "Good sir... while I agree that the humans have pushed their luck entirely too far, you do realize that what your talking about is... well, genocide."
It wasn't a question but a statement. Of course the genius knew exactly what he was suggesting, but it never hurt to check. Then that terrifying smile returned to his face. "I think, Mr. Brown, it is time to bring back Bermuda."
Then Mr. Brown was back in his physical surroundings and, for the first time in his seemingly endless life, he said a very un-gentlemanly word.
"Oh... crap."
It seemed to be a day for firsts, because several billion miles away the Enterprise crashed into its first planet.
AN:
I've fixed up the chapter a bit due to some great suggestions by Lina-Baggins. I think this captures what I was trying to write much better than my original draft.
Cheers
R-U-E-P